#more vomiting in this one than you’d think

[homophyte]

Golden I, live from Webster Hall in NYC, from Our Pain Your Gain

[messrmoonyy]

- The Forbidden Fruit

Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

Request- I NEED ARTHUR TO STEAL DUTCHS GIRL AND SHOW HER A REAL MANS LOVING. FILTHY PASSIONATE LOVING. WORK YOUR MAGIC

A/N- I got incredibly carried away with this. Is basically prawn with no plot honestly. And far softer smut than I think you intended it to be but. Here we are. Enjoy.

Warnings- 18+ | implied toxic relationship ( reader is in love with Dutch van der Linde what can you expect here ), smut: affair, Arthur being desperate to please!!!, fingering, oral ( reader receiving ) , unprotected p in v and he accidentally finishes inside oops, like the tiniest amount of cockwarming ( WC-8.9k )

AO3 | Masterlist - requests are open :)

Arthur didn’t involve himself in Dutch’s relationships. He stayed polite to whatever young woman he had hanging off his arm at the time, but that was about it. He’d seen too many girls come and go- usually in floods of tears at being dismissed by the man that had seduced and charmed them into loving him. Just working his way through shiny new plaything to plaything, hiding his unending sorrow for Annabelle under the skirt of some new girl. 

Unfortunately you were no different. 

In your defence, he supposed, you had lasted far longer than the rest. The only real exception to that being the famed Annabelle herself. But as was almost inevitable, your time in the honeymoon phase was slowly crumbling down around you. 

Arthur did wonder if it was simply because of the current stress levels in camp. They had all been on the run for longer than he cared to try and count, but after the mess in Blackwater they had reached new heights of being hunted. It had never been this bad. Nothing had ever gone this wrong. Because before everything had gone to complete shit, he’d actually seemed quite taken with you. In truth Arthur actually had begun to consider the idea that Dutch really did love you. Had finally been able to move on from the weight on his heart of his dead lover. 

But no. 

Arthur was observing the same pattern as always, it had just taken far longer with you. And that just seemed to make it all the more cruel. 

He barely even looked at you most days now. Barely uttered a few words in return to any question you asked. 

And the arguing was growing ever more fierce. It was practically everyday. 

Arthur didn’t like it. Didn’t like the way Dutch treated you. Didn’t like the way Dutch was treating anyone lately. But you in particular had never been anything but nice to him, kind. Sweet. Incredibly naive but sweet. To Arthur too. Some of the girls Dutch had strung along had been vile, rude and entitled and stuck up. But you? You were a genuinely nice person it seemed. And maybe that was your greatest flaw, for someone like that did not belong with Dutch Van Der Linde. 

In fact Arthur had come to like you from a distance. The times he had spoken to you you had been interesting, intelligent. Far cleverer than him and he had always liked that in a woman if he was honest. 

But still you clung to Dutch. Though your patience with him of late seemed to finally be wearing thin. 

Dutch had never really been one to be ashamed or afraid of airing his dirty laundry within the gang. Whether that be packing on the PDA in camp in a way that often made Arthur want to vomit up his breakfast, or the even more puke inducing sounds of the two of you making up all night long. So arguing was no exception to that either. 

And today was no different. 

“ you barely even look at me! I’m right here! I always have been, I’ve always been such a good girl haven’t I? I do as you say. And look at how you repay me! “ Arthur sighed as he dropped a stack of bills into the box, successfully recovering yet another of Strauss’ debts for him. You were both screaming at each other again, the tent flaps pulled down as if that would over any form of soundproofing. It was the camp's regular ambience now it seemed. 

He did feel sorry for you, he really did. You’d left everything you had for Dutch. Some beautiful, intelligent, well spoken girl. Heiress to her daddy’s mining fortune up north, used to the finer things but seeking some adventure. And Dutch had offered you both. Drowned you in jewels and gifts- though unlike the ones you had once owned the ones he gave were not his to give- Shown you off like a shiny new toy on his arm. Expressly informed Miss Grimshaw that you were not to be lifting a finger, that you would not have to earn your keep with chores like the others. 

You earned your keep by looking beautiful beside him, by boosting his ego with your constant devotion to him, by letting Dutch use you for his own source of pleasure and by the sounds of things- that Arthur truly had no choice but to overhear- not getting very much back in return. 

“ You know I don’t think I’ve ever met a more selfish woman in my life! “ Arthur sighed and sat down on his cot, debating whether or not to make some attempt to get the sleep he had been planning the entire long journey back to Clemens Point. But his tent was but a stone's throw from Dutch’s. 

“ I have needs too Dutch Van Der Linde!” Everyone else in camp didn’t seem to mind it though, most of them preparing to settle in for the night. Whether that be passing out on their bedrolls or drinking by the fire. But Arthur wasn’t sure he could put up with another moment of the damn yelling. 

“ oh? You have needs? “ Dutch’s voice was condescending. Mocking “ I give you everything! You are acting like a spoiled child”

“ a child? A child!? “ Arthur stood back up again, deciding he’d fare better trying to sleep on the damn ground rather than next to the likes of you and Dutch. So he headed out towards the edge of camp, hiding himself in the woods by the water. He slumped down against a tree with a heavy sigh and wished he’d thought to pick up a bottle of beer on the way. 

But it was no matter. He was far enough away that he couldn’t hear the fighting anymore, but close enough that if he was needed anyone calling his name would be heard. 

He looked out across the water, enjoying his rare moment of peace. It was a clear night and a full moon, the reflection bouncing off the water in the most beautiful way. He pulled out his journal and started to sketch it, wishing he could capture its beauty better. 

‘ Dutch and the girl were arguing again. Got out of earshot for a bit to try catch some sleep. Thought the water and the moon looked mighty pretty ‘ 

He scrawled underneath when he was done, tucking it back into the satchel discarded at his side. Javier's guitar had silenced back in camp now and he figured everyone had gone off to bed. But he was quite content there by the water, so dropped his hat over his face and settled in to try and catch a few hours himself. 

He was just dozing off when he heard the sound of boots marching quickly through the undergrowth, snapping twigs as they went. And then the soft sound of someone mumbling to themselves. He silently hoped whoever it was would keep well away from him. But the boots grew nearer and came to a halt not so far away. The crackle of a match being lit and a heavy sigh. 

“ thinks he can talk to me like that? Bastard. Bastard he is. I’m a lady I deserve better than. Than that “ 

You. 

He cleared his throat lightly to inform you that he was there, but unfortunately still seemed to startle you. 

“ Christ! Gave me a damn heart attack Arthur “ he placed his hat down with his satchel with a sigh and looked up at you. In the light of the moon reflecting off the water he could see your cheeks were tear stained, the glow of the end of your cigarette illuminating your face further and showing your makeup in streaks. 

He couldn’t lie that it made his heart ache for you. He didn’t particularly have any solid feelings for you, but he did feel sorry for you. It was hard not to feel sorry for the woman seduced by Dutch. 

And you truly were a cut above the rest in his opinion. Beautiful as the early morning sun and, when you weren’t screaming at Dutch, as kind and warm as it too. But maybe that was fitting. Because much like the sun you could bask people in warmth, but burn them too. Beautiful and bright but scalding and he found he couldn’t look at you for too long, no matter how many times he wanted too. Simply blinding his eyes with your flaming beauty and having to turn away. 

But maybe he was just getting caught up in his metaphors. 

“ shouldn’t be out this far from camp “ you simply shrugged, taking another drag of your cigarette “ ain’t no one nice lingerin’ in woods at night miss” even if no Lemoyne raiders were sneaking around the trees, there were plenty of species of wildlife that would happily do a number on you. Chew off a leg or bite you with poison fangs. You didn’t know how to take care of yourself. You couldn’t handle a gun, didn’t have a single survival instinct in you. 

Dutch had quite made sure of that, he’d heard you ask once or twice. And had been denied. Charming you with some string of words about how you were far too delicate to be handling a gun. To leave it for the men. 

“ you’re lingering in the woods aren’t you Mr Morgan? “ he chuckled and shrugged. 

“ and I ain’t that nice. Point proven lady “ 

“ not like Dutch would care if someone took me anyway. He’d probably be thankful “ your voice was hoarse from the shouting and he couldn’t tell if you were going to cry again or not. You took a long drag of your cigarette before seeming to suddenly remember something, dipping your hand into the waistband of your skirt and pulling out a pack “ sorry my manners. Want one? “ he took one with a nod of thanks “ can I sit? “

You sat down carefully beside him then with a long sigh, tucking your legs beneath you, and leant forward so he could light the cigarette between his lips with the end of yours. 

“ thanks “ you both sat quietly for a short while. Smoking and watching the ripples in the water. He didn’t mind it actually, as much as he had been slightly annoyed at you disturbing his attempt to sleep. You were decent company. 

You rarely strayed from Dutch’s side, but on the odd occasion you had and Arthur had stumbled upon you having a moment to yourself at the edge of camp it had been quite nice. So he didn’t mind sitting there with you, company. For you both. 

“ I think you’re nice. By the way “ you said to break the silence, refrenching his previous comment of bad men lingering in the woods. 

“ No offense to you Miss, but you’re in love with old Dutch. I don’t think you’re particularly qualified to be sayin’ whether folk is nice or not “ he said it teasingly in some hopes of making you smile. And it did. A little. 

“ maybe not “ he watched you bring your cigarette to your lips again, glancing at your hands. Nails perfectly trimmed and not a single speck of dirt or sign of a scar. Hands that had never had to lift a finger. Ever. It was an interesting contrast to his own. Calloused and scarred and bruised “ but Dutch he… he…Can I ask you something? “ 

“ Sure “ he said and flicked his cigarette away. 

“ Do you think I’m beautiful Arthur? “ you asked meekly. Your face was sad. Lingering innocence yet to be wiped away by life somehow, the kind that only remained because you had lived a life so sheltered. Even with Dutch you were as sheltered as could be “ and don’t lie. Please “

“ I think you’re beautiful, sure “ you turned back to the water again, tossing your own cigarette before promptly lighting another. 

“ Dutch doesn’t. Not anymore. Barely even looks at me “ Arthur ran a hand over his face, not entirely sure what he was supposed to say to you in the situation. At all “ I know I know I don’t expect you to agree. You two you’re…you’re like two peas in a pod aren’t you? “ you said with a small laugh, but it held no humour. You took a long drag of your cigarette. 

“ me and Dutch it’s… we go back a long way. But… I will agree the way he’s been treatin’ you. Ain't nice. Not when you done nothin’ but be loyal to him for so long “ you turned back to him again and gave a small smile. It was like a wave of relief had washed right over you. 

Someone was finally listening. 

“ I think he’s got his eyes on Mary-Beth “ you mumbled, red stained lips wrapping around your cigarette again. Much like how he had found himself admiring your hands he now found himself admiring your lips. Soft and plump and stained red in the way they often were. 

He blamed it on his fatigue. 

“ he’d be a fool to give you up. You’re kind, loyal, hell you might jus’ be the most beautiful woman I know. He’s in a weird place right now. He’ll snap outta it, be back to readin’ you Evelyn Miller in no time. You’ll see “ maybe the last part wasn’t entirely true. But the first part was. And you seemed to bask in his compliments. He wondered when the last time Dutch had said something nice to you had actually been. 

“ Thank you “ you looked as though you might cry again. And he really hoped you wouldn’t. He didn’t like to see you cry. And he really wouldn’t know what to say to you then. Once again you turned your attention back to the water and gave a small sigh “ maybe I chose the wrong outlaw “ you said with a small laugh “ always have thought you were quite handsome “ 

He nearly choked on his own saliva, clearing his throat in hopes to pass it out smoothly. He didn’t know if it had worked. 

“ Really? “ 

“ Hmm “ you mused, tilting your head inquisitively to the side “ but you were oh so hung up on that Mary girl when I found Dutch”

“ Yeah well. Mary she’s- that’s all done with now “ maybe Mary was the reason he seemed to sympathise with you so. Because he too had had a broken heart. Though he was sure his was not as brutal as yours. 

“ Guess we both have bad taste don’t we Mr Morgan “ he chuckled and nodded. 

“ That we do miss. That we do “ he placed a gentle hand to your shoulder and squeezed in some form of comfort “ don’t worry bout Dutch though. Really. He’ll come to his senses and if…if he don’t then. Any man would be lucky to have ya “ you sniffled and he figured you’d started crying again “ I didn’t mean to upset- “

“ No. No I’m fine. It’s just…you mean it all don’t you? All these kind words? “ he shrugged and then nodded. 

“ Sure I do. You’re a beautiful woman. Inside an out “ something seemed to flash across your face, a million and one things whirring away behind your eyes. He’d never been that good at reading people, never one for knowing what people were thinking. And the look on your face was the most confusing he’d ever seen. 

The next part happened far too quickly for him to process it. Maybe because he was tired, maybe because he truly hadn’t even slightly suspected you to do it. You flicked away the butt of your cigarette and leaned forward, one hand to his leg and the other to his neck. And kissed him. 

He was taken aback and you pulled away before he could make any attempt to figure out what you’d just done. 

“ Sorry “ you sighed in slight annoyance, seemingly at yourself, sitting back beside him again. Like it was no big deal. Just something that had happened and had no real consequence “ shit- sorry “ Arthur scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and shrugged with a small laugh. Attempting to play it as cool as you clearly were. 

Maybe he’d finally cracked and entered some weird fatigue induced psychosis, hallucinations and hearing voices. And kissing Dutch’s woman. 

“ S’okay. No harm done “ he was bewildered. Trying to process the last 30 seconds and coming up completely blank. 

“ Just the way you talk about me I- Lord forgive me “ he was certain he must have looked half dense. Still completely confused at what on earth was happening with you. And maybe, just maybe, a tiny bit flustered at having a woman like you kiss him. Even if you were begging the Lord for forgiveness right after it “ no one’s spoken to me like that in a long time and…and I wish they had. I want to be told I’m beautiful again. I want to be kissed. I want I want…I want a lot of things “ 

Maybe Arthur was a stupid, idiotic fool. Maybe too many gunshot wounds and bumps to the head had finally caught up to him. Maybe he too wanted to act on his ever growing annoyance with how Dutch was behaving. But he found himself reaching out, fingers tucking under your chin to turn your face to look at him. Your eyes were so beautiful up close. Practically sparkling in the moonlight.

Oh he was such a fool. 

“ could’a jus’ asked “ a small smile tugged at your lips and you laughed a little. 

“ Yeah. Of course. Because you’d have said yes Arthur? “ he shrugged. He didn’t know if he would’ve actually. But now the thought was in his head “ alright “ you whispered and shuffled a little closer to him “ indulge me “ 

His thumb was absentmindedly brushing over your jaw, looking at you in the light of the moon and wondering how on earth Dutch wasn’t constantly begging for your attention. If he had a woman like you constantly hanging off his every word he wouldn’t know how to act. Would be like a mangy dog trailing around after you for food.  

“ I might’ve “ you gave a roll of your eyes but you were smiling still, a beautiful, tempting smile.

You were a temptress. A siren. Luring him in with your beauty to do something terrible. And you were vulnerable. Sad and seeking appreciation. And he was truly debating it. 

“ Well…“ you started quietly, looking up at him through your long lashes in a way that made his chest go tight “ there is… still time for you to say yes “ 

“ we ain’t gonna tell no one bout this y’hear? This it’s… it’s jus’ between me and you. Okay? “ your eyebrows furrowed for a second looking up at him intently, as if trying to figure out if he was joking or not. If he was serious. He wasn’t entirely sure himself, needed you to agree or disagree to put the thought to rest.  His thumb continued to brush along your jaw tenderly and your eyes fell closed for a moment. 

How long had it been since someone had touched you with such care? That something as simple as that seemed to mean so much to you. 

“ I understand “ you whispered, eyes flickering down to his lips again. He pulled you in close, barely an inch between your lips and then spoke again “ you’ll give me what I want? Don’t treat me like him “ 

“ Anythin’ ya want. You got it. I’ll give ya what you deserve “ you let a shuddering breath escape and gave a small nod before closing the gap between you both again. 

He hadn’t kissed anyone in a while, but he sure found his footing quickly. You kissed him like he was your source of air, climbing your way into his lap and slipping your hands into his hair. You tasted of cigarette smoke and something almost sweet. Whatever it was, it was an intoxicating mix. You were like a siren singing your call in his ear, drawing him in and taking him for your own. The weight of you in his lap was almost familiar, welcoming. Just… nice. 

He had almost forgotten just how fun it was to kiss a woman. How so many men seemed to shun it as boring, pointless- Dutch obviously included. But Arthur had always loved it. Had spent many a night as a youngster sneaking his way into Mary’s room just to kiss her. To spend hours kissing and talking and kissing some more. 

Kissing you was something else. Addictive. Intoxicating. 

Eventually he had to pull away, his lungs screaming at him for air. Your hands slipped out from his hair and down to grasp at the collar of his shirt, resting your forehead on his. 

“ Anything I want you say? “ you asked quietly, breathless. 

“ Anythin’ “ you smiled and lifted your head, a quiet determination settling over you. Your lipstick had smeared and he wondered how much of it was now on his own face. 

“ okay… undress me then “ you softly commanded, shifting slightly in his lap “ please. Dutch never- he makes me do it myself, barely even looks I- Please “ 

He almost laughed to himself about now he immediately thought getting you naked was entirely too risky. As if the entire situation alone wasn’t risky anyway. But he didn’t want to think too hard about that, instead simply channelled his recent annoyance towards Dutch into his actions. Tried to tell himself he was doing a good thing, taking care of you. 

You watched his face carefully as he gently untucked your shirt from where it was tucked into your skirt, some silky soft thing that probably cost more than everything he owned in his clothing trunk put together. He undid every pearl button slowly, eyes darting up to your face as he did. Your chest was heaving in long, heavy breaths. You were nervous. Or excited. He couldn’t tell which. 

You shivered lightly when he pushed it from your shoulders, now only the soft cotton of your chemise between his hands and your chest. Your nipples had hardened, from the slight night chill or lust he couldn’t say. But he found himself unable to resist the sight, leaning forward and capturing one between his lips through the cotton. You gasped softly, a sound so beautiful it made him groan. You sounded delicate. Innocent. You’d never made such sounds when he’d overheard you with Dutch. In fact a majority of the time you almost sounded in pain. 

But this sound wasn’t that. This sound was beautiful. And he wanted to hear more. One hand pushed at your back to bring you closer, the other palmed at your neglected breast in hopes you’d make the sound again. And you did. Gentle, soft gasps as his tongue dampened the material of your chemise, teeth tugging at you gently through the material. Your hand found his hair again, raking your fingers through it and arching your back into his touch. 

He couldn’t imagine why Dutch had never wanted to do such a thing. How could he not want to hear you make those pretty pretty sounds? How could he not want to feel you writhing in his lap and yearning to be touched. Maybe Dutch was more of a fool than he had originally thought. 

“ Need you to touch me- properly I- take this off “ your sentence was choppy, like you weren’t focussed enough to truly articulate the words you wanted to say. But he understood, pulling your chemise over your head and dropping it to land with your shirt. 

He took a moment just to look at you, not even entirely because he knew you’d want him to. Just because he wanted to. He’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t wondered what was hiding under your expensive clothes once or twice. How could he not when he had to try sleep through the sounds of you and Dutch of a night. 

“ God damn “ he said softly, hands soothing over your waist as you basked in his admiring stare, taking in the feeling of finally being looked at. Properly. 

“ like what you see Mr Morgan “ you asked, voice sultry and low in a way that made his cock twitch in his pants. 

“ Dutch is a damn fool “ is all he could say, leaning forward to kiss you again, his hands moving to grab at your chest. You moaned into the kiss as he squeezed and massaged your breasts with his large hands, seizing the opportunity to dip his tongue into the warmth of your mouth. Your fingers in his hair, twisting strands around your fingers and tugging lightly. He felt like he was on cloud nine. Certain he’d somehow taken a stumble through the veil and ended up at heaven's gates. 

He wasn’t a particularly religious man, but the way he was prepared to worship and praise you could truly be considered blasphemous. 

He couldn’t resist the temptation of getting his mouth on you again much longer, dragging his lips from yours and wrapping them around a pebbled nipple instead. You rolled your hips against him, those beautiful soft moans still falling past your lips. This was what you had wanted from him. To be worshipped. To be looked at as the beautiful temptress of a woman you were. And not merely glanced at and then used like some two dollar whore in a saloon. 

He wanted to nip at your skin, bite and soothe it with his tongue. But he knew he couldn’t. Couldn’t risk Dutch seeing it if he felt the need to stop ignoring you for a short while for his own needs. But oh how he wanted to. To mark up your smooth skin with reminders that you were desired. That you could look at as they faded and be reminded that you were wanted. 

“ I need more “ you whispered “ Arthur please. Give me more “ another roll of your hips followed by a small whimper told him enough. 

“ I know I got ya “ he murmured against your skin, pressing kisses up your sternum and your neck. Nose brushing at the underside of your jaw and working his way back to your lips again “ stand up. Lemme get you out of these damn clothes “ he caught the smile on your face as you stood up, he stayed seated and ran his hands over the fabric covering your hips. Something seemed to blaze in your eyes as you looked down on him. He realised it was most probably you that was usually being leered down on, but not now. 

Not with him. Not with Arthur. Arthur looked up at you like the goddess you were, looked up at you with what he knew was a silent pleading in his eyes. Dutch would never ask he knew it. Dutch took. Stole. Used. Arthur didn’t. Wouldn’t. 

“ I like how you look at me “ you said quietly, hand soothing over his hair “ you make me feel beautiful “

“ Cause y’are “ he murmured, hands reaching to the ties of your skirt. He wanted to see more. Wanted to see all of you. 

You helped him with the slightly tedious task of getting your skirts and undergarments off, but all so slowly. Taking his time. Making sure he appreciated every single layer of clothing you removed for him, right down to unlacing your boots and holding your leg gently to help you out of them. Until you stood there as naked as the day you were born, illuminated by the moonlight on the water. 

“ well ain’t you a sight “

Your skin was so smooth. Soft. Not a single scar that he could see. The skin of a woman who had never had to lift a finger. Had never known the hardships that he had. The only true blemish on your skin was the almost completely faded bruises on your hips. Fingertips. Dutch. 

He soothed his hands up your legs, pressing soft kisses to the pillowy flesh of your thighs as he went, and stopped as he reached them. 

“ He can be a little rough. It’s how he likes it “ you answered before he could even ask. Arthur too had been known to have his rougher moments. But he could never hurt you. Never mark you in anyway other than that of affection and care. 

“ I ain’t like that “ 

“ I know. That’s why I want you “ he pulled you back down into his lap, his large hands splaying over your hips as he took yet another moment just to look. To admire. To thank whatever stupid damn God may exist for placing such a heavenly body in his presence “ I feel a little like the odd one out here though “ you said with a small smile, tracing a finger down from the open top buttons of his shirt to his pants. 

He’d been far too occupied with you to even really notice the fact that he was ridiculously overdressed in comparison. 

“ Can’t have that now can we darlin’ “ your smile grew and you made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders with a gentle sigh. You ran your fingers through the hair on his chest, nails scratching lightly at his skin and peppering lipstick stained kisses as you went. Littering his collarbones, his sternum.

“ much better “ your hands kept roaming and your lips kept kissing. Hands seemingly wanting to touch him all, scratching lightly up his sides and over his waist, his stomach and his ribs. Slowly moving to slide over his shoulders and loop around his neck. You rolled your hips against him again and whined softly. He was so hard it was growing painful as he stayed restrained by his pants. But he wasn’t selfish. Not like Dutch. And he wasn’t about to seek out any form of pleasure himself until he had you seeing the stars you deserved. 

“ tell me what y’want “ he murmured, peppering soft kisses across your jaw. 

“ touch me “ you sighed blissfully “ please touch me “ 

His hand slipped down in between your bodies, brushing past the soft curls between your legs and couldn’t contain the groan of a sound that left him when he felt how warm and wet you were. 

“ Christ “ he muttered as your head dropped to his shoulder with a shuddering breath “ he ever touch you like this? “ he asked lowly, already knowing the answer. Why would he? He didn’t get anything out of it. 

But Arthur did. Oh Arthur did. 

“ no “ you whispered “ no never…please. More “ he tested the waters, pressing lightly against your clit and revelling in the squeak of a sound that it caused you to make. 

“ or like this? " You shook your head again, breathing shakily as he dragged his finger through the wetness and drew light circles around your entrance. 

“ Arthur “ you moaned his name in the most delicious way as he pushed his finger inside, burying it to the knuckle 

“ yeah and what about this darlin? “ he again knew the answer. Dutch didn’t care about your pleasure. Didn’t care about wasting time on something as simple as making you whimper and whine for more “ he touch you like this? “ 

“ no “ 

“ think ya can take one more for me? “ you nodded again and he withdrew his finger, gathering your slick on his other before pushing them both past the resistance of your entrance “ that’a girl “ he pumped his fingers in and out steadily, curling and probing at your velvety soft walls to test what you liked. 

“ This is so… oh god. This isn’t proper at all “ you laughed slightly, melting into a soft moan. Arthur chuckled, lifting your face up so you’d look at him. 

“ Ain’t proper at all? It’s damn right filthy darlin” your cheeks were aflame and you closed your eyes for a moment, grinding yourself against his hand “ look at ya. Drippin all over ma fingers like that. Ain’t proper. Not one bit “ you smiled, a cheeky, devious smile that made him lean forward and kiss you again. 

You were so wet it was obscene. He couldn’t tell where the sounds of you kissing stopped and the sopping sounds of his fingers began. You continued to grind down against his palm, practically riding his fingers, his whole hand wet and sticky with you. 

And he wanted to taste it. To taste you. To flood his mouth with the slick, liquid gold covering his fingers. It was an almost primal desire, like a desperation as strong as needing air. He needed to. He had to. 

“ Darlin’ “ he murmured, lifting your head from where it had fallen to his neck again “ gotta let me taste you. You gotta “ the look on your face only made him want it more. Your skin flushed and eyes blown out with nothing but pure lust and desire. He’d never needed anything more. Nothing else mattered, not the painful hardness in his pants, not the realisation that you were very much Dutch’s girl. He didn’t care about any of that. He just needed to be between your thighs. 

“ really? No one’s ever- oh god. Yes. Yes. Please Arthur “ he withdrew his fingers making you whimper and quickly grabbed his discarded shirt and lay it down on the ground. Then he kissed you again as he wrapped his arms around your waist, gently turning you to lay back on the shirt. It still couldn’t have been particularly comfortable. But you didn’t seem to mind, tugging at his hair and lifting your hips up against him as he hovered over you. 

He took his time moving down. Leaving a long and slow trail of hot, wet, kisses on your skin. You writhed underneath him, whining softly and twisting your hands in his shirt underneath you. He took extra time with your thighs. Kissing up from the inside of your knee and stopping before he could place his mouth where he really wanted to, then repeating with the other. 

“ Arthur “ you whined, still squirming around and desperate. 

“ I know. I got ya. Gonna make those pretty sounds for me again yeah? "You nodded, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him as his head sank lower, spreading your legs wider to give him full access to the centre of you “ that’s a good girl “ he spread you open with his fingers, in awe of the way you parted for him. Like petals on a flower, dripping with the morning dew. 

But you were far more delectable. A forbidden fruit begging to be tasted. 

And oh was it pretty. Even in the dark, in nothing but the light of the moon on the water, it was pretty. Begging to be tasted, touched. Admired. 

The sound you made as he dragged his tongue from your weeping hole to your clit was like music to his ears. He didn’t know how he managed to not come in his pants just at the sound of it. 

You still kept it quiet, but loud enough for him. 

His own, deep, guttural moan escaped from his chest as he licked again. Your taste flooding his mouth in a way so so much better than he could’ve imagined. 

He ate you like he was starved. Like a savage predator that hadn’t seen meat for days, like a man ready for the gallows enjoying his last meal. His arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping your legs apart for him as you bucked and squirmed against his face. It was visceral. Carnal. You made him feel like his grip on his own composure and control was weaker than ever, that he was holding on to it with nothing but his fingertips. 

“ Arthur “ he dipped his tongue into the welcoming warmth of your cunt, his eyes falling closed for a moment as he felt you clench around him, desperate for more. Desperate for him. And he would give you more, would give you anything you asked of him. But not until he made you come first. 

He let go of one of your legs and brought his fingers back to their previous position, wanting to feel you again. To be inside of you, as close as he could get. To make you see stars. 

The flat of his tongue found your clit again, certain he could feel you pulsing against him. Desperate and full of desire for him. He felt honoured, privileged. That you were so loyal to Dutch, glued to his side. Never even batting an eye at anyone else. And yet you had broken that for him. Had sought him out because you knew he would treat you well. 

Your back arched off the ground as he sunk them back into you, slipping in with a welcome ease. His thick fingers pumped into you at a steady pace, his tongue diverting all its attention to your clit. Lapping and sucking and letting you press his face harder against you as you tugged on his hair. 

“ don’t stop please dont- Arthur “ he had no intentions of stopping, none at all. In fact he simply honed in on his ministrations, working harder to push you closer and closer to the edge of the orgasm he knew you had been craving for weeks. 

“ Not gonna stop darlin. Ain’t stopping until you come for me. Taste so good, so good “ he murmured against you, curling his fingers and hitting a spot that made you gasp and your body shudder “ there we go, right there “ 

He flicked his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves, looking at you as best he could to gauge your reaction. You were pulling a little painfully at his hair, squirming and rolling your hips against his face. He let you do it. Let you be the one using a man for your pleasure, rather than being the one used for once. 

Your sounds were sinful. Melodic. He took it all in. Basked in the noises you made for him, the delicious taste of you on his tongue, drunk on you. On your taste. Your smell. 

“ Arthur- Arthur please I- “ you babbled, a slightly smug smile working its way onto his face as he watched your prim and proper facade melt away “ don’t stop “ 

He hummed an assurance that he wouldn’t, your hips bucking against his face as he did. You were so unbelievably wet, dripping out around his fingers and soaking the hair of his beard. He would never have thought it of you. The way you held yourself around camp, so poised and prim. The accent when you spoke that made everyone else around you sound so common. And yet there you were. On your back in the woods, chasing an orgasm being offered to you by an outlaw. Repeating his name like a mantra. 

And not even that of the outlaw you were in love with.

“ Arthur- “

Only seconds later it happened. You held a hand over your mouth as your orgasm hit you, muffling your choked moans, back arching off the ground and walls clamping down on his fingers as he worked you through it. Tongue still working diligently at your clit until you pushed your hand at his head, squirming away a little. 

He almost didn’t want to stop. Could’ve happily stayed there a while longer, but moved back, an obscene wet sound in the late night silence as he withdrew his fingers. 

He took his fingers to his mouth, sucking the remnants of your climax onto his tongue. Unable to control himself. You watched him do it, mouth slightly agape and eyes half open with some desperate undeniable look of utter desire. He could almost see the way it made you feel, could see you unable to contain the overwhelming feeling of realising you were desired. Wanted. 

“ God. You are unbelievable “ you whispered, pushing yourself up onto your elbows and grabbing at his arm. Your fingers looped around his wrist and tugged his hand towards your own mouth. He shook his head with a chuckle, slightly in awe as you took those same two fingers between your red lips. 

Your tongue swirled between his digits, plush lips wrapping around them and sucking. Your eyes locked on his as you did. It made his cock ache. He wanted your lips on him, wanted your tongue swirling around his length and milking him dry. He could imagine it if he thought hard enough. The way you hummed slightly in appreciation as you sucked his fingers clean, sent vibrations straight through his bones. Rattling him to the core. But he would never ask that of you. But the thought was one he would hold onto. It made him shift slightly. 

“ you ain’t so prim and proper lady “ he murmured as he withdrew his fingers, a string of saliva connecting his fingertips and your lips “ This ain’t very proper of you miss “ Arthur said with a small smile, teasing “ rollin’ around in the dirt with the likes of me “ 

“ Oh to hell with being proper if it means I get to feel like this “ you said with a small laugh and he kissed you again for what felt like the millionth time. He wondered if you could taste yourself on his lips, smell the heady delicious smell of you on his beard.

He would’ve been more than happy to leave it at that. No matter how badly he wanted to sheath himself inside you and stay there for eternity. His goal had been your pleasure and he had achieved it. 

But as he kissed you your hands began working at the buckle of his gun belt, opening it with a skilled ease that made him pull back. 

“ Darlin’ you ain’t gotta do that- “

“ shush “ you pushed at him lightly so you could sit up and went to work on the buttons on his pants next “ I want to. I- Arthur take them off “ he made far quicker work of his own clothes than he had of yours and you leant back on your elbows to watch him. 

You looked like a pinup girl. Like something he’d seen drawn come to life. Your eyes seemed hungry as you looked at him, dragging down his body and lingering on his rock hard cock. He was practically throbbing with want, the tip an angry shade of pink and leaking precum slightly embarrassingly “ come here. Please. Back down here “ 

He did as he was asked, crawling back over your body as you eyed him greedily. 

“ We really don’t…I mean, If y’don’t wanna- “ his words stuck in his throat as your fingers wrapped around the length of him with a small sigh. 

“ I want you to I just…can I ask one thing? “ he couldn’t get the word yes to escape his mouth, your fingers squeezing him softly in a way that made him see flashes of white in his vision. So he simply nodded “ don’t fuck me. Dutch fucks me, make love to me “ you seemed a little embarrassed at the request. But he didn’t think it was embarrassing. In fact he had had no plans to use you as brutally as Dutch. He was almost a little offended you thought he might. 

“ Told you, anythin’ you want. You got it “ you smiled softly and pressed another kiss to his lips before laying back down again. He positioned himself over you, caging your head in between his arms. And it truly was incredibly intimate. He wondered when the last time you had had such intimacy was. If you’d ever received such a thing from Dutch. 

He spat on his hand and grabbed a hold of his sensitive cock, stroking himself a couple of times to get himself slick. Not that he really needed to, you were already wetter than he’d ever known a woman to be. But the last thing he wanted was your discomfort. He lined himself up with you, eyes trained on your face as he dragged his weeping tip between your folds. You gasped as he caught your clit, still sensitive and alert from your first orgasm. 

“ Arthur please “ you whimpered rolling your hips up against him, so desperate to have him inside of you. 

“ So God damn wet for me “ he murmured “ such a good girl ain’t ya? “ you whined in answer, fingers wrapping around what you could of his bicep and digging your perfectly trimmed nails into his skin “ gonna make you feel so good I promise darlin’ jus’ like you deserve yeah? “ you whispered out a yes and brought your other hand to the back of his neck. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, still running his cock along the length of your slit. Teasing. 

“ Keep looking at me. Please look at me Arthur “ he continued to do as asked. Again. Though his eyes had barely strayed from your face anyway “ I need you so badly “ Eyes locked on yours, he finally pushed into you, he took it slow. Letting you take it inch by inch, watching the look of ecstasy wash over your face. Your eyes fell closed. 

He fought to retain his own composure, overwhelmed by the tight, wet, warmth of your walls enveloping him. He could feel every unique ridge and bump that made your cunt oh so perfect, feel every muscle stretch and contract as you adjusted to him. 

“ god- oh god “ 

“ shh shh easy there. I got ya “ he paused once he was seated inside of you, grabbing at your hip with one hand to angle your hips better. Allowing you to comfortably take all of him in. He waited, let you adjust to his size, not daring to move before he got the go ahead from you “ there you go, look at you, takin’ all of me like that. So good f’me “ you basked in his praise, a dopey kind of smile spreading across your face.

“ so much bigger than him “ you whispered with a small laugh and Arthur couldn’t help the smug smile on his face. Kissing you and touching you and making you come on his tongue had been one thing. But having you like this? Having his cock buried to the hilt inside of you, so unbelievably close together. And to then be told that? To know he was about to do you better than Dutch ever had. Ever could. It felt like the biggest fuck you to the man that had been not only mistreating him of late, but also the goddess of a woman beneath him “ I’m good. You can move. Please move “ 

He didn’t need telling twice. Pulling out almost completely and thrusting back in in one smooth motion. The pace he fell into was just as you’d asked. Loving. Tender. But hard and deep, making sure his hips were flush with yours with every stroke. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulled his face back down to kiss him again. 

If anyone had spotted you they’d have easily mistaken you both for a lovesick couple having a private moment to yourselves. The entire thing intimate and passionate. No one would assume it was an affair in motion, hidden away in the woods by the shoreline in fear of your lover finding the pair of you there. 

But it was what you wanted. What you had needed. And he felt privileged to provide. 

He pulled back from your lips to watch you again, enthralled by the way your face relaxed and twisted in the pleasure he was providing you. You continued to spill those angelic sounds from your throat, growing breathier and higher pitch as he continued to drag his cock against the sopping, sensitive heat of your cunt. He had to focus hard not to finish in seconds. So much build up paired with being practically celibate for months was truly doing him no favours, but he focussed. He wasn’t letting this end until you came once more. You deserved it. 

“ Keep those pretty eyes on me “ he murmured as they fell closed again “ that’s it darlin’, look at me there ya go “ everytime he spoke the slightest word of praise you practically beamed, so desperate to hear it. To be told you were good. Beautiful. So different to Dutch constantly yelling at you about how annoying you were, how much your mere presence bothered him these days. So he kept it up. 

“ Doin’ so well for me. This pussy it’s perfect, ain’t that right? C’mon tell me “ he urged, still fighting off his ever looming orgasm. The sounds alone was enough to make him want to burst. Sweat slicked skin on skin, the wet sounds of your cunt dripping around the swollen intrusion of him. And those sweet sweet moans of yours. 

“ yes “ you whimpered “ it’s perfect “ 

“ That’s a good girl “ he increased his pace ever so slightly and your hands slipped from his arms to his back, dragging your nails down him to try to pull him impossibly closer to you. 

He moved a hand down between your bodies, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, grunting and choking back his own moans as you squeezed him. Like your body never wanted him to leave, gripping his cock with your cunt and making it ever more harder to hold back. He couldn’t help but have a look, glancing down to see the way you stretched around him, mesmerised at the way you took him in so deep. 

“ tell me I- oh. Tell me I’m beautiful “ you whimpered, sounding almost like you might cry. From pleasure, from upset. He didn’t know. But he continued to do as asked. 

“ you’re beautiful “ he murmured picking up his pace a little more, his sweat slick skin slapping against yours. He was desperate to see you come again. Wanted to see your face up close this time, watch your eyes roll back and your kiss swollen lips part in ecstasy “ so beautiful darlin. Doin’ so well f’me, takin’ me so well “ 

“ don’t stop, don't stop “ he dropped his head to your neck whispering every word of praise he could think of into your ear, your body arching up against his and whimpering and whining with every word. 

“ ain’t ever looked prettier than this “ he whispered, his own voice becoming breathless with the effort “ shit- look at ya, takin’ my cock so well. So pretty darlin’ “ 

Your second orgasm seemed to shock you as much as him, clawing at his skin to hold him close as your body trembled beneath him, biting at his shoulder to muffle your moans. 

He didn’t mean to finish inside of you, had fully intended to pull out. But the way your cunt had squeezed him, the sounds you had made as he pushed you over the edge for the second time.

He muffled his own groan of pleasure in your neck, fingers digging into the dry earth beneath you, spilling load after load whilst fully sheathed inside of you. His entire body tensed, a pleasure he hadn’t felt in an incredibly long time. His heart was hammering in his chest, blood rushing loudly in his ears as it seemed to drag on forever. 

And then he came to his senses. 

“ m’sorry. Shit. Sorry “ he panted as he tried to compose himself and pushed himself up onto his hands to pull out. But you yanked him back down, arms wrapping around his back again and legs tightening around his waist. 

“ no. Please. Stay. Stay right there. Just a moment would you “ he had come to realise in the past.. how long had you two even been out there? However long it was, he’d come to realise he was terrible at saying no to you. Could never possibly even dream to deny you of anything you wanted from him. And so he slumped back down onto his forearms, dropping his head against your shoulder for a moment. Your chest heaved beneath him and you caught your breath, fingers tracing gentle strokes along his spine. He felt he could stay there for hours. 

“ You doin’ okay? “ he asked, pressing a light kiss to your jaw when he had composed himself a little more. 

“ marvellous Mr Morgan “ you whispered with a small smile “ truly. Marvellous “ he couldn’t help but kiss you again, the long lingering kind meant for two lovers. 

After a few minutes you both finally moved, re dressing in silence and then sitting back in your original position against the tree. He handed you a cigarette, lighting it and placing it between your lips. 

He wondered what he looked like. Wondered what evidence you had left on him. Had he sweated off the lipstick prints on his chest or were they still there? He knew you had scratched his back up good and proper and would have that reminder there for a few days at least. 

“ Thank you. Mr Morgan '' you said quietly after a few silent moments of smoking, blowing out a long stream of smoke “ I mean it I- i'm not sure what I’m supposed to say “ 

“ Don’t say anythin’ “ he said with a small wave of his hand, appearing as blaise as he possibly could but in reality knowing he wasn’t about to forget that night anytime soon “ its fine. Really. Anytime y’need me, for anythin’, you know where I’ll be “ you smiled and he watched your body relax a little more. 

“ you know, i might just take you up on that “ 

He sincerely hoped you would. 

[targaryenluvs]

— OPPOSITES ATTRACT

pairings: clarisse la rue x aphrodite!daughter!reader (romantic) percy jackson x reader (platonic)

summary: the one where percy jackson has to wrap his head around the fact that the nicest person he’s met at camp, is dating clarisse.

warnings: kinda crack ficy in my opinion, fluff, smooches, capture the flag, reader is percy’s saving grace, percy sees the reader as a sister

a/n: i just got inspired okay? ✊🏽

percy’s feet were booming, heard from afar as he ran to the creek’s shore. the ares trio hot on his tail as they chased him down. he knew he couldn’t run forever, he’d have to fight, but how on earth was he going to win against three trained teens?

as if clarisse wasn’t frightening enough already, her scream sent literal chills down percy’s back, guess she really likes spears? he thought to himself.

the sounds of cheers and celebration drew the pairs attention as luke planted the opposing teams flag into the floor. they’d lost. percy felt clarisse’s grip falter, only slightly, but not when she saw the flag, clarisse’s eyes were currently trained on something behind him. more bullies? “there you are! i was waiting for you, wanted to show you my new and improved skills.”

clarisse let go of him and he couldn’t believe it, the rage in her eyes seemed to dissipate the second you came around. you, the sweetest person he’d met here, were friends with that thing?

that thing was capable of feelings?

his jaw dropped at the sight of clarisse’s hands on your cheeks, listening to you ramble on about who you’d fought and defeated in the woods, the pretty butterfly you’d seen. percy’s eyes were so close to popping out of his skull as clarisse kissed you, deeply. then he wanted to vomit as hands traveled and tongues met.

at dinner that night you sat by luke and chris, happily eating away as your hand rested on a book infront of you. “hey perce! come sit down.” you patted the space next to you as he accepted. “what’re you reading?” percy stared at the cover you’d flipped over to display to him, well he wasn’t expecting that. “where’d you get it from?” you pointed towards your girlfriend proudly, “she said she knew i’d like it, isn’t that sweet?”

percy’s weird version of a smile caused you to frown, “your smile is scaring me.” he immediately dropped it as you laughed, causing him to nudge you. “don’t be rude, i’m just a baby.” percy hadn’t felt so comfortable with someone since his mother. you pinched his cheeks, “naw, yes you are.” he swatted your hands away as you giggled, percy stared at you, studying you.

shining eyes, a beaming smile and an enchanting personality, truly a daughter of aphrodite, yet you dated clarisse. it didn’t make sense in his head, but from what little scenes he’d seen between the two of you, if you were happy than he was too, “what do you see in clarisse? why are you with someone so—” you turned to look his way, percy was worried you’d be offended.

but of course you weren’t, “because i like her percy, and she likes me. she’s absolutely gorgeous, if she wasn’t already a daughter of ares or i didn’t know? for sure aphrodite. and, people are always misunderstood, just because someone seems like a bad person, doesn’t mean they are. when clarisse and i are together, i see the best parts of her, always. i love her regardless, but there’s obviously things that you don’t tell everybody you just meet, or if you aren’t super comfortable with a person then you won’t show all the parts of yourself. i think, when you love someone you accept all parts of them, the good, the bad, the worst. you love someone despite their flaws. clarisse is good to me, and i like her, that’s all that matters. you’ll understand when you find someone yourself perce.”

he sat still, raking over your words in his head, “if one person can feel that way about someone else, they’d explode.” you laughed at his words, he was still young of course, he’d understand soon, you had a feeling. “i’d happily explode because of how much i love her.” you glanced back at her, only she wasn’t there.

“well i don’t want you to explode, i do want to spend my night with you.” clarisse stood behind you with her arms crossed, you could see percy tense up at her presence. with your hand on his, and your eyes reassuring him, he smiled, “i’m happy for you, but if she try’s anything i’m more than happy to beat her ass for you even if i’m broken in half.”

clarisse couldn’t hear his whispers, thank god. your smile was small, placing a hand on his shoulder, you kissed percy’s forehead, “my protector, now no one can try anything with me huh? thank you perce, if you need anything here at camp, or if you just want to talk and eat those blue foods of yours—” his arms wrapped around your neck tightly as you recovered from the force.

“thank you.”

“any day perce, any time.”

and percy sat back, watching the two of you walk away hand in hand. a clear thought rung through his head.

opposites attract.

[peachesofteal]

Cool Girl

Ghoap x female reader / 18+ / previous

The sunrise stabs under your eyelids with malicious intent.

You don’t have much of a hangover, but your face is still puffy, under eyes swollen. You’ve been crying all night, and it’s painfully obvious.

Not to mention the lack of sleep. The vomit induced by your overwhelming anxiety, the bile still scorching your throat. You haven’t slept more than an hour. You look like the walking dead.

You tried to have a serious talk with yourself around two o’clock in the morning. You told- no you promised- yourself you’d leave well enough alone. You’d put them out of your mind. You’d move on.

They never wanted you. So why are you so insulted that they did exactly what they said they would? You weren’t theirs. You’d never be theirs.

Good enough to keep in bed. Good enough to keep out of sight. But not someone they’d consider theirs.

You’re no one’s. You’re just… yours.

Which is fine. It’s more than fine. You’re cool. You don’t need them, or anyone.

Your hand won’t stop shaking though. It shakes when you turn on the water for the shower, shakes as you try to shave. It shakes through your first cup of tea and then your second, shakes when you curl up the couch and huddle under your blankets, staring blankly at reruns of some laugh tracked sitcom. It’s because you haven’t slept or you’re hungover or something-

And it only stops when your doorbell rings.

You slam your eyes shut. You’re not expecting anyone, and that alone makes you feel like there’s probably someone on the other side of the door that you decidedly do not want to see.

The glance through your peephole confirms your suspicions.

It’s Johnny. He’s standing squarely in front of your door, bouquet of flowers in his hand.

Your head starts to pound, and he knocks on the door.

“I know ye’re home, bonnie. I saw yer car in the garage.” You’re frozen on the other side, separated by a piece of metal and wood that suddenly feels less substantial than it ever has before.

When the lock doesn’t click, he knocks again. “‘m not leavin’ until I see ye.” You groan.

“Stalking me now?” You spit when you open the door and he grins sheepishly.

“Naw...” He doesn’t elaborate and you stand in the frame of the door, trying to block him from peering over you- though it’s no use. You watch his critical gaze take inventory of what he can in your flat, and then he returns his attention to you, holding out the flowers.

They’re tulips. Maybe twenty, twenty five stems, all in a spectacle of color. They’re beautiful, and your favorite.

It surprises you. That they even know that about you. That they would remember a comment you must have made in passing.

It gives you pause. It’s confusing.

“Got these for ye.” He’s… such a boy. A grown man, a decorated military man, a strong man but still… such a boy. He’s never looked more like a boy than he does now, eyes wide and nervous, shifting his weight from leg to leg. He blinks, eyelashes feathery and dark, and you’re left to wonder if he gets it from his mom or his dad. Does he have sisters? Brothers? Nieces or nephews? You ached for those pieces of them, before.

Now, the lingering questions fill you with embarrassment.

He steps forward, and you shrink back. His gaze flickers, and then clears, holding the overflowing bundle of colors towards you.

“Thanks.” You say stiffly, careful to avoid his fingers when you pull it free.

“Can I come in?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He chews on his lip.

“Ye look tired, love. Did ye get any sleep?” You sniff, hand resting on your hip.

“I’m fine.”

“Ye dinnae look fine.”

“Why are you here?” You’re cracking with exasperation, legs going weak. You’re not strong enough to stand here and survive an onslaught.

“Need to talk with ye, like we said last night.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, like I said last night.” You parrot with a irritated exhale.

“Ye know that’s jus’ not true. We need to talk about what ye saw, what ye think ye saw-“

“What did I see? Since apparently you know what I’m thinking now.” You’re too tired for this. You don’t want to do this. You want to crawl back into bed and hide under your blankets.

“Ye think ye saw us with another woman, or on a date, but-“

“I saw your hands on another woman. I saw her smiling at you like-“ you shake your head. “It doesn’t matter what I saw,” he swallows, mouth pressing into an uncomfortable line, “I always knew this wasn’t real, that it didn’t mean anything but-“

“Ye agreed. Ye always said ye didnae want a relationship.” He reminds you sharply, and you nearly swallow your tongue.

“Yeah, I didn’t, so.” The lie is foul on your tongue, rancid and spoiled, but you give it life regardless. Fuck them. You’re fine.

“But yer mad ye saw us with another woman.” He raises an eyebrow, and you never wanted to punch someone so badly.

But instead of a rising tide of anger, you get an overwhelming wave of despair, and tears prick at the corner of your eyes.

“Ah, no, love. Please, please dinnae cry. ‘m sorry, this is such a mess. We never meant for any of this.” Your hand starts shaking again, trembling against the plastic wrapped around the stems, and Johnny’s expression changes from sad to worried. “What’s this?” He tries to reach, fingers grazing the back of your arm.

“N-nothing, I’m just tired.”

“Love-“

“Just… go away.” Your patience snaps, shatters, and his face falls. It almost makes your feel bad.

Almost.

[eymie]

PHOTOGRAPHER !

pairing: thomas webb x fem!reader

warnings: smut, nudes?? kinda, alcohol, dry humping, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), thats it i think

summary: you were a new york photoprapher and thomas lived in your apartment. and after one frustrating night you invite him into your room.

a/n: WHERE. IS. THE. MF. CALLUM. TURNER. FICS. i’ve been on this game since fantastic beasts. (ive found a few scrumptious callum fics and yk who u r @willyoubemycherryy) also i have not written in a hot minute and none of you expected this.

You lived on the story above Thomas. Not that you ever really noticed him at first, you were relatively new in the complex too. Sometimes you’d hear him having a conversation on the stairs with the old man from 2B. Mix of words you didn’t bother to put together.

Well, you didn’t care until you saw him for the first time. The old man from 2B liked to talk a lot, often chatting you up when you got home from work. Sometimes bringing up Thomas which you didn’t care for.

"He could use a nice girl like you.”

To which you would’ve scoffed. You heard someone running down the stairs, to which you met eye contact with Thomas. Wavy brown hair, pink cheeks, glasses that sort of turned you on.

The real New York type of guy, to be honest, your type of guy. His lips parted as he looked at you, a small nod and than sliding past you.

“Where you going Thomas,” He called out, to which Thomas turned around laughing.

“I gotta go, meeting up with Mimi.” Thomas turned on his heels to leave until he was stopped again by the man.

“I want you to meet me friend.” The man gestured to you, Thomas smiling at you in return.

“No, it’s alright. I have to get going.” You smiled back, walking to the door where Thomas stood. You brushed past him, your clothes brushing his own.

“Where?” Thomas asked, furrowing his brows.

“Around, I’m a photographer.”

That’s how it started. After that, coincidentally you ran into Thomas a lot more after that. Usually alone, and to that he’d usually greet you and say hi. After a specifically draining day, a frustrating one at that, he ran into you in the front door.

He rubbed his eyes, apologizing and then he started talking. Going off about something you honestly didn’t care much about. You liked hearing him talk. You didn’t mean to say it, but you did.

“Wanna talk about it? In my room.” It came out like word vomit, immediately embarrassed. You watched his eyes for a second, not even processing his nod.

You grabbed his hands pulling him up to your apartment, dragging him close behind you. His hand was big compared to yours, you weren’t surprised you had already noticed he was a lot taller than you.

Your anxiety kicked in when you struggled to unlock the door. Him peering over your neck, watching you struggle with your keys. You felt his lips brush your neck slightly, your panties dampening.

You flung your door open a little too excited, a small laugh leaving his lips. He followed you in, to which you immediately grabbed your alcohol off the shelf.

When you turned around, Thomas caught you off-guard, pressing his lips to yours. It was quick, aggressive a bit, which you assumed was probably from nerves. He was quick to shake his head and apologize.

"Shit, I'm sorry." He mumbles, looking down at his shoes. You examine his face, his expression. You hand him the full bottle of alcohol off your counter, to which he takes from you with ease. "Thanks--"

You pull him back down, pressing your lips harder to his than he had before. You threaded your fingers through his hair, slightly tugging on it making him groan into the kiss. He still held the bottle in his hand, but his free hand slid to your waist.

He had you pressed against your counter, nowhere to move. His tongue slid over your bottom lips, you parted your lips allowing him to slip it in. Pressing and sliding against your own making you moan softly into the kiss.

Thomas pulled away, taking a sip of the alcohol, furrowing his brows at the taste. He placed it back on the counter beside you, who was breathless and needy.

He tilted your chin back up, pulling you back into another heated kiss. Both hands now free, groping whatever he could. You could taste the alcohol on his tongue, his kiss was intoxicating.

His hand slid up your skirt, tracing the apex of your thighs. His fingers slowly slide up to the wet patch of your panties. “Fuck, you’re soaked.”

"Thomas," You gasp, pulling away from the kiss. He trails down your jawline and neck, leaving soft wet kisses. He hums into your skin, hands pulling your waist closer to his body. "Wait--"

"What?" He was barely audible, too busy tainting your skin with his marks which you would certainly cover up the next day.

"l don’t know," You gasp, his tongue running over the mark he had just left. You feel him smile into your skin, a small laugh leaving his lips. His fingers sliding over your panties, pressing onto your clothed clit.

"Do you want me to stop?" He pulls away looking at your flustered face. His hand pulling away from the apex of your thighs, sliding up your waist and under your shirt.

“No,” You were too quick to answer, a small laugh leaving his lips. The way Thomas kissed you felt urgent, like he needed you now and he could’ve wait. And if you knew any better you would’ve known why.

You walked backwards to your bedroom, never breaking the hungry kiss. His hands were large, pulling at your waist. Your hand pulled back to push the door open further, backing into your small room. He turned you, pushing you against the white door, shutting it with your body weight.

You let out a soft moan as his knee slotted between your thighs, pressing into your clothed his. His hands travelled down to your hip, pulling your cunt harder onto his rough pants.

“Look at you, getting off on my thigh.” You whined at his words, a wet patch forming on the fabric of his pants.

“Thomas, I want you—“

“I know,” He mumbles against your lips. Thomas was usually quick when it came to sex, at least with the foreplay but he wanted to take it slow so bad. Talk you through it. “Don’t worry, gonna fuck you.”

“Now,” You move your head to the side to give him more room to mark your neck. His hand slides up to cradle your jaw, lips attacking your skin.

“Not yet,” His hot breath against your skin, lips pressing to your neck.

Thomas’ hands slid under your thighs, you jump up wrapped your legs around his waist, His fingers press into your skin, holding you up against him. Your arms wrap around his neck as he tosses you down on the mattress.

“Take off your clothes, okay?” You nod in reply and quickly pull off your skirt and panted as he pulls off his shirt. You pull off your own shirt, tossing it onto the hardwood floor next to his discarded clothes.

You look up to see Thomas, pulling off his pants leaving him in his tented boxers. You suddenly feel yourself getting hotter than before.

It was in a flash, he was on top of you, hot skin against yours. His hands pried your thighs apart then slid up to your bra clad chest. He slid his fingers under your bra while he nipped at your jaw. His glasses were still on and pressed into your skin

Your fingers slid up to pull his glasses off his face, to which he tried to resist. “I can’t see without those.”

“Shut up,” You cut him off with a kiss, fingers tangling in his brown hair. His glasses were held in your free hand, falling against the pillow beside you.

He broke the kiss, still brushing his plump lips against yours before speaking. “Put them on.”

You knew what he meant but you ignored him, pushing him on his back instead. You climbed onto his lap, your hands pushing him down against the mattress.

You placed his glasses on your face, they made your vision blurrier and you wanted to see him. You went to pull them off but he gripped your wrist, pulling your hands away from your face.

His cock twitched through the fabric of his boxers, you slowly grinded your hips in return. A small whimper left his lips, his eyes shut. You slid you hand up his body to his lips, your pointer finger slowly parting his lips.

You watched as his eyebrows furrowed, parting his lips for you. You roll your hips again and you listen as another soft groan leaves his lip. You smiled, leaning down to press your lips to his. Deep in the kiss, your hands slide to slowly his boxers down allowing his cock to spring out.

Your lips parted at the sight of his hard cock, pre-cum drooling down the tip. His large hands slid up your waist and pulled you down onto his cock. Your wet folds sliding across his length .

“Want you inside,” You whined, nails gripping his chest. He bit back any noises, nodding at your request and let go of your hips. You bit your lip, positioning his tip at your entrance.

“What do you want?” He asked with a smirk, a little too amused for your own liking. You tried to sink down but he had a firm grip on yours hips stopping you.

“Please, need it.” You whine, trying against but his grip on your hips stopped you from it. You clenched your jaw in frustration at his lack of sympathy.

“Want me to fuck your pussy?” He asked with a small laugh, you scoffed in return.

“You’re too vulgar.”

“I’m about to be inside you, what type of vulgarity would you prefer?”

“Shut up—“ You didn’t get to finish before his hands were pulling your hips down, his tip pushing past your entrance. Your mouth fell agape and your eyes were shut closed. You whimpered at the slight sting, he was bigger than you expected.

“Yeah, take it like a slut.” He smirked, watching as he bottomed out, stretching your cunt wide open. God, he wished he had his glasses on to see how your cunt looked around him.

You didn’t noticed his hand fumbling onto the night table, grabbing your old camera you retired from taking photos. The flash made you squint through his glasses.

The small photo came up on the screen, your perfect body sitting on his cock, tits full and being held in his free hand. He was saving that for later. He put the camera back on the nightstand, hands trailing up to steal his glasses back but you grabbed his wrist.

“I don’t think so.” You swatted him away, adjusting his glasses on your face. Your vision still just as blurry as his own.

“I wanna see you.” He whined, leaning back on his elbows, squinting back at you.

“The photo for later wasn’t enough?” You tease.

“Come on, give me my glasses so I can fuck you.”

You pushed him back down on the bed, raising your hips before dropping them. A groan slipping from his lips as his head falls back on the pillow, bucking his hips up.

“Fuck me, Thomas.” You whined, grinding your clit into his pelvis. His nails dug into your hips leaving red crescent shaped marks. His lips were parted, head back as you rode him. "Please."

With that he flipped you onto your back, pressing your legs to your chest. The small room was filled with obscene noises and the slapping of skin. He thrusted his length into you harder, pulling you to meet his thrusts.

"Fucking begging for it," He grunted, his tip pressing into your sweet spot. Strained moans left your lips, despite your best effort to keep quiet. New York apartments had thin walls.

Your hand slapped against your mouth to muffle the loud moan that had just left your lips. His hand slid to your wrist, sloppily grabbing it and pinning it above your head.

"Don't hold back," He ordered, lips connecting to yours to swallow your moans and whines. His free hand travelled down from where he pinned your legs to your clit, pressing your sensitive bud.

"Fuck--" You moaned, the knot in your stomach tightening. His thumb rubbed your clit harshly, pressing his thumb hard against it. "So close."

"Come for me, baby." His lips brushed against yours, his saliva coating your kiss-swollen lips.

A gasp left your lips, then a strained whine. Your walls clenched around his cock, the knot coming undone. Your head thrown back against your pillow as he fucked you through your orgasm.

"Yeah baby, just like that. Come for me." His whispered into your skin, your hips bucking against his thrusts. He pressed soft kisses into your skin as you arched off the mattress. His hands travelled to the arch of your back, rubbing your spine. "So good for me."

You fell back to the mattress, soft whimpers leaving you between your pants. His hand left your sensitive clit instead holding your hips as he neared his own orgasm. Pulling out, his hot seed coating your thighs and stomach.

"Give me back my glasses, I wanna see that photo."

[sun-kissy]

heaven | r.l.

i don’t know what this is… not a fic, more like a word vomit about remus loving you HAHA enjoy <3

Remus Lupin wasn’t religious in one way or another. But even he knew you were godsent. 

Passed out, lying with twisted limbs and a drool-filled mouth; you looked nothing short of an angel.

He touches you, you don’t stir. That’s good, he thinks. It means he has more time to love you without having to accept undeserved affection in return. 

He’d asked the question a thousand times, thought about it even more. Why me? And you’d smile at him like he wasn’t a monster, like he wasn’t born to kill. Who else? you’d say. And that’s when Remus realised that it doesn’t take kindness to love somebody; all it takes is that ache in your heart and burn in your fingertips. He wasn’t kind; yet he loved you.

The tips of his fingers dance across your cheek, feeling the soft skin on which his lips had made their home. He has unordinary courage tonight; he dares to bring his other hand to rest on the curve of your hip.

He brushes his thumb, featherlike, underneath your shirt. His shirt. You make a soft sound, and it’s all he needs to hear to know what heaven sounds like.

Remus had never felt like yours was more than a title until he met you. He was yours, yours to love, yours to break, yours to throw away. He belonged to you, and that was the greatest badge of honour any man could wear. He wanted you to touch him, make your mark upon him until it burnt, and he’d thank you for branding him with the etch of your thumbprint.

You were perfect; in every sense of the word. He’d learn every tongue till he was fluent in showing you how utterly divine you were. The dark lines on your thighs didn’t bother him nearly as much as they did you, and neither did the scars. He cursed himself reverently for his own; but never yours. Every mark on your being was a part of you, every inch of your skin a holy grail he’d read without complaint.

He’d worship you if you’d let him. Let his hands find their haven in every nook and crevice of your perfect body, whisper feverish words of cadence and cruelty till you screamed his name. You allowed him to touch you; and that was enough for now.

As he feels you now, mindlessly splaying his hands on your bare back, your eyes flutter open. Remus doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the jerk of his heart stopping when you look at him like that. You reach for him with a smile even in half-lidded consciousness; he goes without protest because it’s you.

He knew forever wasn’t a word meant for lovers. But for now, he can hold you in his arms and hear your heartbeat when you pull him in. You'll let him tell you he loves you till the grave, and that is compensation enough.

[miley1442111]

fix it-a.hotchner

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

please don't read if you have emetophobia!!!!

summary: aaron says some horrible things, can he fix it?

pairing: husband! aaron hotchner x wife! reader

warnings: mad angst, aaron is so mean, reader believes she is a bad mother, heartbreak, feelings of disappointment, jack is so sweet, reader is pregnant, talks of pregnancy, talks of vomiting and morning sickness, no happy ending :(

part 2- fix it together

It was all coming down to this. It was Jack’s birthday and as his step-mom, you had been party planning all week. He was having a dinosaur themed birthday with a bounce house and watching a movie in the backyard, like a little drive in movie. You were excited for him. Aaron hadn’t really been around much that week, he was busy dealing with some legal battle the FBI was up against, meaning the rest of the team, including yourself, had the week off. It was Friday night, Jack’s actual birthday and he was asleep in bed as you waited for Aaron to get home. You were reading a book Spencer had recommended you as you nursed a cup of tea, getting sleepier by the second. 

The front door opened and there Aaron stood, briefcase in hand, handsome as ever. You smiled and got up from your spot on the couch, ready to greet him. He smiled softly as you hugged him, running a hand through his hair. “How did it go?” you asked, your voice just above a whisper.

“Oh it was fine, nothing too jarring. How was the week?” He asked, walking further into the house. 

“Fine. Nothing to report. Jack’s asleep but-”

“Did you do something for his birthday?” He asked, cutting you off. 

“Yeah, of course. I picked him up from school early and we went for lunch and to a film. He really enjoyed himself,” you smiled and he sighed. “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, fine,” Passive aggressive. Aaron was being passive aggressive.

“Aaron,” You said, worry coating your words. “Is everything ok?”

“Yes! Everything is just fine,” He sighed again, sitting on the couch. “Just one thing though- you didn’t think to offer him to see his mom?” He asked, malice behind every word. The accusation cut you deeply. Of course you’d asked, but he’d said no. He said ‘I don’t want to go without dad’ because of course he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to go to his moms grave without his dad, and not on his birthday either. You stood there, stunned at his words. He continued. “Y’know, you promised me this wouldn’t be an issue, so tell me now, is this an issue Y/N? I need to know because we can still get an annulment.” 

You gasped at his words. “Aaron stop-”

“No, you stop. You are not his mother. She is. She still is, even if she’s gone. You’ll never be his mother. You’re doing a good job of parenting but nothing compares to Haley. Thank god you’re not his actual mother.”

That was venomous. He was going straight for every insecurity you had around your relationship with Jack and throwing it in your face. He was hurting you. 

The silence was heavy. Aaron finally looked at your face and saw the disgust written all over it. The worst part was the fact that he knew it wasn't disgust at his actions, it was disgust directed at yourself and your parenting. You loved and adored Jack, he knew that. He knew, though he’d never admit it, that Jack liked you more than him, or maybe it was just his insecurity speaking, he wasn’t sure. He knew you gave everything of yourself to the both of them. And he knew he’d just done irreversible damage. 

“I offered,” you muttered, your eyes trained on the floor as you wrapped your arms around your chest, pleading with yourself to not cry. You felt silly, standing there, in his hoodie, his home, and seeing his child as your own. “He said he wanted to wait for you. I said we’d go on Sunday.” 

Aaron’s stomach dropped at the tone of your voice and the words being spoken. He was making you cry. He was hurting you. And all you’d ever been to him was perfectly kind. You’d always been so supportive, so loving, and so caring. As he came in he saw a love note on the fridge, he’d seen one of his favourite chocolate bars on the counter with a note beside it, a little wrapped gift beside it too. There were multiple reminders on the fridge for yourself, ones telling you to pick up things for the party, pick up Jack’s big birthday gift (a new bike), and call Jessica. You cared so much about the both of them, and he’d just said some of the worst things he could’ve, just because he was stressed.

Imagine how stressed you were, planning an entire party on your own while simultaneously working through hours and hours of paperwork (courtesy of your job, you were still working from home even if you weren't technically working), and parenting all week, all alone. 

“There’s dinner in the fridge, I-I’m going to go to bed,” you mumbled, walking about and leaving him alone with his thoughts. He heard your footsteps retract, walking up the stairs and in the opposite direction of your shared bedroom. Shit. You were sleeping in the guest room. 

He got up, irritation and shame barely allowing him to get to the kitchen to eat the meal you’d made him. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he have just listened to you? 

He sat alone eating, his eyes drifting to the gift on the counter the entire time. I don’t deserve it. He thought, but caved once he finished his food and cleaned up. He pulled the small bow off and unwrapped the colourful paper to reveal a positive pregnancy test. His heart broke again. Inside beside it was a note, in your beautiful handwriting. 

To my dearest Aaron, 

I wanted to tell you the second I found out but I also didn’t want you to come home too early when you were still needed in Washington. We’re pregnant! I’m so excited and nervous and happy and scared all at the same time. I didn’t want to upstage Jack’s birthday but I obviously needed to tell you :) 

I love you so much and I can’t wait for this next chapter! No more guest bedroom I guess :) 

P.s I’m almost sure Jack knows, I’ve been having horrible morning sickness :( but at least this fulfils his christmas wish last year, remember ? 

Anyways, I love you so much and I’m so excited. 

Your love, Y/N

Xxxx 

He felt sick to his stomach. You were pregnant. He’d just been evilly cruel to you and you were pregnant. He’d said some of the most vile things on planet earth to you, he essentially called you a bad mother. And you were pregnant. He hadn’t even realised he was crying until he saw the splotches on the paper, ruining one of the cute doodles you’d done. He immediately put it down, not wanting to damage it further. 

He took a deep breath, then went into his study and allowed himself to cry. He’d been mean. He’d hurt you in the one way he promised he wouldn’t, all because he was overwhelmed. All because he was stressed. 

“Dad?” He heard Jack’s voice and straightened. He wiped his face. “Why are you upset?” Jack walked into his office, pyjamas and a teddy in hand. 

“I did something mean to mom,” he admitted. “And I hurt her by accident,” he wasn’t sure if it was by accident. He was sure some deep part of him just wanted to self-sabotage himself. “And I feel bad about it.”

“It’ll be ok. Mom’s been sick this week, maybe you have the same tummy ache and it’s making you mad?” He suggested and Aaron let out a pathetic chuckle. 

“Maybe bud, maybe,” he agreed. “How about we get you back to bed, huh?” 

“Can I say goodnight to mom again?” He asked and Aaron’s heart broke again. He lifted him up and nodded, walking them down the hall. “You go into her and I’ll get your bed ready, yeah?” 

“OK dad!” Jack exclaimed as he was let down to the ground, and went running off to your shared bedroom. Aaron shook his head. 

“She’s in the other bedroom,” he pushed down another wave of tears at Jack’s confused face. 

“Why?” He asked, confused. 

“I was really mean,” Aaron sniffled. “Say goodnight from me too?”

“Ok dad,” Jack said, walking into the guest room. 

Aaron heard your voice, wishing Jack good dreams. You’d been crying. 

He was the worst person in the world. 

Jack came into his bedroom a few minutes later. “Mom’s still sick, she said goodnight and to tell you that she loves you.”

Aaron almost started crying again. You were so caring. You always put him above yourself. “Thanks buddy.” 

Aaron tucked him in and closed his door over, wishing him a good night. The tears came shortly after. He tried to sleep in your shared bed, but it wasn’t right. You weren’t there. 

Sleep evaded him that night. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, the morning sickness hit you like a truck. You had your head in the toilet for an hour, at least. You didn’t come out of the guest room until about 9am. You could hear the usual sounds of Jack and Aaron playing outside, probably soccer. You walked downstairs and got yourself a glass of water, the only thing you could actually stomach at the minute. You looked out the window that led to your garden and smiled when you saw your boys playing, then the nagging voice that you thought you’d gotten rid of all but screamed in your ear You’re such a terrible parent. Aaron’s just been trying to conserve your feelings this entire time. Jack probably hates you. You shouldn’t be having another child. 

You looked away. Focus on the party. You told yourself. Get through today.

You had a long list of things that needed doing before the party at 3. You had to pick up balloons, pick up the cake, pick up Jessica and her kids, pick up Sean from the airport (as a surprise for Aaron and Jack), and set everything up. You left a small note on the table explaining where you were, and left. You ran all your errands, leaving picking up Jessica, the kids, and Sean till last. When you walked back in, the house was set up and Jack was immediately excitedly by Jessica, his cousins, and Sean which gave you a moment to slip away from Aaron.

Soon enough, the party started and you were bombarded with around forty children and a party to have. You felt Aaron's eyes on you constantly, checking in on you or just watching you. Once the outdoor film started, Penelope, Emily, Jj, and Spencer came over to ask what was wrong with you and Aaron, saying it was strange to not see you all over each other. You told them about the fight (not the pregnancy) and they were shocked at his behaviour. How could he be so mean? How could he treat you like that?

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aaron had been trying to talk to you for hours. Whenever he tried, a kid or one of the team would stop him with a dumb question, or needing help. You had Emily, Penelope, Jj, and Spencer crowding you the entire night, sending him the dirtiest of looks. That’s how he ended up at the end of the garden with David and Derek, who were both giving him a lecture about how what he’d done was wrong. 

“You can't say anyone is a bad parent!” Derek stressed. “That’s a very clear no-go!”

“I’m aware,” Aaron said, his lips tight in a frown. “I know what I did was wrong.”

“Then why aren’t you apologising?!” Derek exclaimed, loud enough that a few kids turned around to shush him. 

“Because,” Aaron sighed. “Those four haven’t left her side in hours.” 

As the movie came to a close and the children left, you were left with just the team and family. 

You all sat down to dinner, chinese takeout- Jack’s favourite. There was laughter and true joy, especially at David’s insistence that he could make the meal much better than Jack's favourite take-out, considering he was a ‘chef’. 

You all sat down to watch Jack open his gifts, individually thanking each person who gave him something. He was especially taken by the gift Spencer got him, a book on dinosaurs, and he adored the bike. You’d gotten one that you'd made look similar to Sean’s motorbike, Jack was always obsessed with Sean's motorbike. You’d even drawn on specific details that made it even more unique. Everyone eventually trailed out and it was just you, Jack, Sean, and Aaron. Jack asked Sean to read his bedtime story. That meant you and Aaron were left to clean up together. You got up to start picking up plates but Aaron stopped you. 

“Can I?” He offered and you nodded, sitting on the couch. You hadn’t eaten at dinner, all food just meant more vomiting in the morning and you were not up for that. “Can we talk?” He asked. 

“About what?” You sighed, looking over at him. “I think we’ve both said enough.”

“I’m so sorry about last night,” he sighed, coming over to you and sitting beside you. “I was awful. I was disgustingly mean just because I was overwhelmed. You’re an amazing mother to Jack, while you’re not his biological mother, you love him as such and he loves you. You’re a great parent. I was just being reactive and mean. I was so cruel and I'm sorry. I don’t want an annulment. I want to be with you forever. I know that it isn’t a problem. I know how much you love Jack and me,” he chuckled humorlessly. “I know how little I deserve it.”

You took his hand. “What you said… it was probably my worst nightmare,” you chuckled flatly. “And what you said was pretty damaging, Aaron. I just… it completely restarted the voice in my head that says I’m a terrible parent. It made me scared to think about what’s going to happen when we have our baby. I was already terrified about being pregnant, and this was just…” you trailed off as Aaron’s heart broke. Your voice was raw with emotion. You were so hurt. 

“I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that you are the best mother our children could ever have,” he promised and you smiled, but it lacked the regular spark your smiles usually contained. 

“The best mother Jack could have is Haley. We both know that.”

Fuck. Now you were comparing yourself to Haley again. Aaron had quite literally set you back about 4 years in your confidence as Jack’s mother. “Honey-”

“I know it sounds bad, but we both know it’s true. I’m good, but as you said, I’m nothing compared to Haley. Which is fine Aaron. I understand my place.”

His heart broke for what felt like the millionth time. He’d hurt you so badly. “Honey please, I was stressed and overwhelmed and I took it out on you. I meant nothing I said. You’re the best mother to Jack and our unborn child. You are the love of my life-”

“I’m the second love of your life,” you smiled sadly at him. “I’m going to bed, goodnight Aaron.” 

You walked up the stairs with a heavy heart. No matter what he said, you’ll always remember the look on his face when he told you that you weren’t enough, that you weren't Haley.

You fell asleep on your side of the bed, since you couldn’t exactly sleep in the guest room when Sean was in there. 

Aaron leaned against the counter as he washed dishes, thinking about how he could fix this. 

Could he even fix this?

——————————————————————————-------------------

criminal minds masterlist

[cheesecakethots]

“Whore.”

You could’ve sworn the teacup in your hands cracked a little from how hard you’re gripping it. If you were Illumi, it would’ve shattered into a fine powder by now. But you’re not, which makes you susceptible to being called such things.

They’re at it again. You’re unsure as to what you’ve done to upset some of the butlers and maids, but god do they not like you. No matter. You hate everyone in this stupid boring ugly manor anyway. Huh. Maybe that’s why they hate you, too.

It must’ve been a shock to see Illumi of all people one day bring home his future wife. One he never cared to mention to anyone else beforehand, and one that was still kicking and screaming over his shoulder.

You’re not really sure how long you’ve been here. Months? A year now? However long it’s been, it didn’t take anytime at all to realise that maybe you’re not as safe here as Illumi swears you to be. His mother most definitely hates you, but, oh well, she’s never really tried anything, as far as you know.

The help started muttering things when Illumi wasn’t around, things that hurt more than you wanted to admit. When you didn’t go running off to Illumi at the first few instances of it, it got worse, as though they knew you would never tell him about it.

First off, you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of being your saviour when someone says mean things to you. Secondly, you may hate these assholes, but you have a conscience.

Only last week Illumi came into your shared bedroom, absolutely drenched in blood, asking if you could shower together. You quickly found out that whoever he had been torturing wasn’t dead yet, and he still had more to do.

Thinking about what Illumi does to people he doesn’t care about, those he’s only hurting for a job, makes you shiver at the thought of him actually harming someone who did him, or you, wrong. But, despite your mercy on them, this time you’re considering just telling him. Only a little.

You’ve had a notably stressful day, being pranced around by his mother who’s insistent on ‘training’ you to be the perfect wife for her son. Her explaining to you that the family expects at least six children from you both had you rushing to the bathroom to vomit.

Then you ran into his father, on your way back to your room. He doesn’t seem to actively dislike you, but he scares the absolute shit out of you. The man seems to think you’re some house pet rather than an actual person with thoughts and feelings, but you suppose that’s a modicum better than wanting you dead.

You also bumped into Illumi’s grandfather. You’re not sure if you can bring yourself to hate him, but you do hate the look of pity in his eyes whenever he sees you. Sometimes he’ll save you from a lecture Illumi’s mother is giving you, so he’s nice in that regard. He’d never free you, though, so he’s just another kidnapper you can’t become friendly with.

You eventually got back to your room, expecting a nice nap before being forced to attend family dinner, only to find Illumi had gotten back earlier than expected. You cringed at how hungry he was, and not for food, but just allowed him to do as he wished. You were too tired to argue. After he was done, he seemed to take note of how quiet and exhausted you were. Too bad, dinner time. You hated dinner times more than anything else.

You ate the admittedly lovely food in pure silence, but quickly became sick to your stomach at hearing Illumi and his mother discuss the prospects of you becoming pregnant. You didn’t eat anymore after that. You’re pretty sure his brother, Milluki, made some comment about you that Illumi didn’t like, which explains why his wrist was snapped in half a few seconds later.

Illumi tried spoon feeding you when noticing how full your plate was, but you managed to convince him that you weren’t hungry. That got you another lecture from his mother about how you’ll soon be eating for two. You were tempted to tell her that if you ever got pregnant you’d throw yourself into Mike’s jaws, but managed to refrain.

After that, you finally got to go to bed. It wasn’t something you were looking forward to anymore; you struggled to sleep when Illumi was home because he’d spend the majority of the night just staring at you.

“Can I go outside?”

You don’t remember why you blurted it or where the thought came from, but you remember the confused blink Illumi gave in response.

“Um.. just for.. ten minutes? O-Or five..? I just want to sit in the garden by myself for a bit… If not, it’s alright..”

You hated how pathetic you sounded, unsure as to what Illumi was thinking when he stared at you with that expressionless face.

“Alright.”

“What?”

“Would you like me to ask a maid to bring you out a cup of tea?”

You didn’t really think about his words too much, just happy you got something your way for once, and nodded rather enthusiastically. You should’ve said no.

The first few minutes of being in the garden, sat on the bench and allowing the cool nights breeze to settle on your skin had you relaxing for the first time in a while.

“Your tea, mistress.”

Oh. It was one of the ones you were sure hated you, and behind him was another. Oh, well. You took the tea from his hands, thanking them nonetheless.

It was much more bitter than you liked it, but you didn’t complain. You didn’t really want tea in the first place. They didn’t leave, but you didn’t complain. Illumi probably asked them to watch over you, maybe to make sure you didn’t try to run. It’s alright, you still have a nice view to relax with.

“Whore.”

Your eyes widen a little, and your grip on the cup increases. They continue muttering amongst themselves, but you catch small, demeaning phrases that you’re certain are aimed at you.

Why are you a whore? You’d never even had sex before you met Illumi, and if you had, it wouldn’t be their business. You’re hardly allowed to interact with anyone other than who Illumi allows you to. Where would you have the chance to sleep around? The insult doesn’t make much sense.

That’s what you tell yourself, despite the fact that your shoulders and hands are shaking and you feel something cold and wet running down your cheeks.

Shit.

You put the cup on the floor, hands moving to cover your face and wipe away any evidence of tears. Illumi hated when you cried.

Why are you still crying? What they said doesn’t make any sense. Stop crying, enjoy the view. You don’t have long left before you have to go back inside.

You’re still crying. You don’t notice that it’s gone eerily silent aside from your own muffled sobs, too busy working on shutting yourself up.

“[Name].”

Shit. Shit!

He’s been sat next to you for god knows how long now, and you didn’t even realise. God, this sucks.

“Why are you crying?” Illumi asks, and you can feel him move closer to you on the bench.

“I-I’m not,” you say, a hand still covering your eyes. What excuse do you give? If you say hay fever will he never let you out in the garden again? If you say you have a cold, will he keep you inside your bedroom for a few weeks? Months?

He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel him staring at you.

“Would you like to stay outside for a bit longer?”

Oh.

“Ye-Yeah. Y-Yes please,” you eventually reply, gulping down another sob.

He doesn’t leave, but you’re less bothered by his presence than usual. Despite it being… him, it’s not horrible to have some company, even though you’d never admit it out loud.

You’re not sure how long you sit outside before he stands, prompting you to do the same. Neither of you say anything, not until you reach your bedroom and Illumi tells you in a tone softer than you’d usually hear from him that he has something he must do, so you’ll be sleeping alone tonight.

You turn to go to bed, but he grabs your wrist. He doesn’t look at you for a moment, seemingly considering something. Then, he stiffly leans forward, pressing his lips to your forehead rather robotically. Sometimes you wonder if he is a robot, it really would explain a lot.

The kiss ends soon after it begins.

“Get some rest. You look bad.”

You huff a little, but can’t bring yourself to actually be offended due to the thinly veiled concern in his tone.

The sleep you get is better than you expected. Maybe not having a mass murderer eyeing you up while you try and rest is a reason for that.

Illumi doesn’t show up for the entirety of the next day, which is a little strange. He likes seeing you off in the morning, giving you a kiss before he departs - you’re certain he copied it from a romance movie you used to enjoy watching from time to time. You don’t question his absence too much, you don’t exactly enjoy his company, after all.

The day you have is better than the last. Illumi’s mother seems to be a bit less of a bitch than usual. That’s a win in your book.

It doesn’t take long for you to be back in your warm bed, wrapped up in covers and drifting off to sleep.

You wake up to the feeling of something wet hitting the tip of your nose, and quiet breathing above you.

“Are you awake?”

You are now. It’s pitch black in the room, but you can make out Illumi looming over, his hair framing around you like some makeshift cage.

Still sleepy, you groan a little, “Illumi? What… time is it?”

Something wet hits the bed.

“2:57 AM.”

Huh. You breathe in through your nose. Illumi absolutely reeks. Metallic, is it? You’re not sure it’s the best idea to comment on it.

“Oh. Okay.”

Another drip of something onto the blanket. He doesn’t seem to be in the talking mood.

“Have I done something wrong?”

“… Yes.”

Another.

You gulp. “Are you mad at me?”

“I don’t think so.”

Another drip, this time it hits your arm.

“Are you going to hurt me?”

You could’ve sworn you saw his eyes narrow in the darkness.

“No.”

The silence is deafening. Your hands clutch onto the end of the blanket. He leans impossibly closer, and the stench of whatever is on him becomes all too familiar. He’s smelt like it before, but never this strong.

“How long were the help bothering you?”

“Since I got here.” There’s little point in trying to lie about it now.

“If you hide something from me again I’ll break three of your fingers.”

A little specific, but the threat certainly does the job.

“Okay. I’m… sorry.” You’re not.

Finally, he pulls away, eyes still trained on your face.

“Go to sleep.”

You don’t. You’re certain that you can’t, at least not for tonight. Especially not after hearing him turn the shower on, and after he’s done leave the room once more.

Instead, you sit and stare at the ceiling, and wonder if any of those in the basement will even have three fingers left of them, by the time he’s done.

[trevorsturnioloappreciator]

If You Want To

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

-matt and readers first date ends with her on top of him in his living room

cw: minors dni making out, dry humping, praise kink, pet names and use of “good girl”, a little dirty talk, no use of y/n, one mention of Matt knocking someone out and one mention of throw up and someone dying but its just a thought :D

a/n: continuation of Vigilante this one is very fluffy then it gets a lil smutty at the end, the blue text in the beginning are text messages, not many warnings this is pretty mild

also the title is from the beabadoobee song and the notes of cologne i described are versace’s dylan blue it’s one of my favs and gives Matt vibes

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚ ˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚ ˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

A day has passed since your unexpected meeting with Matt, the entire time since has consisted of you typing out a message, rereading it, deleting all of it then promptly throwing your phone away from you.

It was sort of silly how nervous you were to reach out when it had been his idea to give you his number, but you were worried maybe it was simply a courtesy, he could’ve thought you’d need someone to recount how you got home, or you may have choked on your vomit, died in your sleep and the police would need him to explain his connection.

Your spiraling thoughts make you take a deep breath, you knew you were a bit of an over-thinker but even you found this train of thought to be utterly ridiculous. That small realization might have been the reason you crossed your room to where your phone lay on the carpet.

The text was nothing special- hey, Matt, it’s me, from the club the other night :)

You’d rather start off boring as opposed to overbearing and maybe reveal too much of your personality, more than you already did asking the guy to carry you to bed like a baby. Shaking the thought from your head and tucking your red face into your hands, you think about how different you acted that night, not different like you were playing a character, different in the way that you weren’t playing a character.

Maybe it should’ve concerned you how easily he endeared himself to you, if it wasn’t for the context in which you two met and the way the rest of the night played out, you would think he was just some serial charmer, working you over before moving onto the next one.

Something about Matt made you feel comfortable enough to let go of the barriers you put up when you’re with anyone else. Just as you start to lose yourself in your thoughts about the brunette boy, you hear your phone chime. He replied, he replied and for some reason you’re entirely shocked that he would even text you back.

Hey there, it’s good to hear from you! How are you feeling?

Reading Matt’s text makes you smile. To think that he still cared enough to check up on you, his character showed even through the phone. You reply back to tell him you woke up feeling disoriented, but you did at least remember the events of the previous night.

You also can’t help but let him in on how sweet and thoughtful it was of him to leave his number, you don’t let him know this part but you had fallen asleep, hearing him lock your door behind him, with the lingering thought of how foolish it was that you hadn’t asked for a way to contact him. Matt’s reply is swift;

I have to admit, I left my number for my own selfish reasons. I would’ve been kicking myself for the rest of my life if that was the last time i saw you.

This message has your face burning, cheesy smile splitting your face, you can’t think of a reply fast enough as you fall heavily onto your bed and roll to your stomach. Kicking your feet behind you and staring at the words on your screen, you feel emboldened by his admission.

i was too nervous to tell you, but after you left i regretted not getting your number, was worried i wouldn’t see you again… would you maybe want to go on a date with me?

Now you’re really feeling nervous butterflies, your blush moving to your chest as you await his reply, tucking your face into your folded arms. When the beep of a notification goes off a couple of seconds later, you can’t get yourself to look.

The fear of rejection when you first texted him paled in comparison to how your palms sweat and heart raced thinking of his response. After a minute of stalling, you finally pick up your phone to read the response.

I’m relieved you didn’t take me leaving my number the wrong way, I thought you might take me for a creep. I would love to take you on a date :) When are you free next?

A soft giggle bubbles out of you, a giddy feeling rolling in your stomach as you bite the tip of your finger, thinking about Matt on the other end of the line. Flopping onto your back, phone laying on your chest, you wonder if he’s feeling the same way you are, maybe he’s out driving around or he could be sitting at a desk somewhere diverting his attention between work and you.

Checking the clock you see it’s nearing 8 PM, but it’s a Friday so you text back to tell Matt you’re free all day tomorrow, asking if that would work for him. When Matt texts you back all he says is;

I’ll pick you up at noon tomorrow?

˗ˋˏ𖤓ˎˊ˗

Waking up around 8:00 is pretty unfitting for you but you’re absolutely buzzing for your date. After Matt’s text setting the time of your meeting you both continued chatting for a bit, agreeing together to go out for lunch.

You were excited that you wouldn’t have to wait around until dinnertime like you usually would for a date, anyways you were infinitely more excited for this one than any date you’ve been on before.

Thoughts swirl of what you’ll wear and how Matt will look when he picks you up (address still logged in his Apple maps, so it was the obvious option) while you make a morning coffee. You wistfully move around your apartment, performing your morning routine as if you’re in a fairytale, head in the clouds.

As the time nears closer and the nerves once again set in, you take a long, hot shower, spending time on your skincare regime, way more time than you usually would. You even decide to crack open the expensive body oils and tinctures you keep for special occasions. Slipping on your silk robe and wringing the water from your hair, you move to your vanity, clicking on the lights around your mirror.

You apply a light smattering of makeup; curling your lashes, lining your eyes with a neutral shadow and finishing off with your favorite lipgloss, before drying and styling your hair. Slipping off your robe, you spread on a lightly scented lotion, rubbing your everyday fragrance oil from your wrist to the pulse points on your neck as well as your hips and shoulders.

Deciding to keep your outfit casual, but still elegant, you pull a mini, lace a-line dress off it’s hanger. Pairing it with a slightly cropped cardigan, buttoning it just once before slipping on some chunky socks with your favorite shoes. You top off the look with your everyday jewelry and a thin cream bow in your hair.

Checking your phone, you see a text from Matt letting you know he’s leaving now and will be arriving in the next twenty minutes, you open your purse throwing in your keys, wallet, and a small bag of makeup for touch ups, along with some other essentials you like to always have on hand. Straightening out your dress, taking a last look in the mirror and adding a light spray of perfume before gingerly walking to your apartment’s lobby to wait for your dates arrival.

As soon as Matt’s contact lights up your phone screen with a call all the nervous jitters return to you, being slightly forgotten with how busy you were to perfect your look and make sure you felt as confident as possible before leaving your front door, they’ve now come back with a vengeance.

You clear your throat before bringing the phone to your ear. “Hi, I’m in the lobby, are you outside?”, you’re pleased at how steady your voice comes out, trying not convey just how much you had been overthinking.

“Hello! I’m actually walking up to the door right now, I’ll see you soon, okay?”, his words bring a smile to your face, of course he’s not the kind of guy to make you search for his car in the parking lot. Before you can even reply you see Matt pulling open the door to your building, a blinding smile and a wave of his hand greeting you.

“Matt! Hi, it’s really good to see you… I can’t lie I was sort of nervous, seeing you I feel a lot better.” Pairing your words with a shy smile, you walk over to meet Matt as he walks over to you, he looks incredible wearing a thick black sweater, falling just above the waistline of his dark-wash jeans, paired with a black fiddler’s cap. The sleeves of his top are rolled slightly to show off his scatter of tattoos, the entire look leaves you blushing.

As you take one more timid step closer to him, he holds open his arms, confidently coming to stand right in front of you welcoming you into a hug. All the tension you felt melted away as you accept his invitation, moving to wrap your arms around his waist, his coming to lock around your shoulders.

“Hey there, ya look beautiful, no need to be nervous. ‘S really good seeing you too.”

Your smile never leaves your face as you keep your face nestled into his chest, surrounded by the scent of him. It was something you hadn’t remembered until it was presented to you again, his cologne, it was slightly oceanic. Notes of something airy, but deep, a subtle spice while still having a citrusy freshness to it.

Feeling the side of his face pressing down on top of your head and the way his right hand sits heavily in between your shoulder blades makes you forget that you’re supposed to move from this spot, that Matt didn’t come here just for a long hug and that you two were supposed to be heading on to continue your day.

Matt slightly steps back, keeping his hands on your shoulder as he smiles down to you, “Ready to go?” You nod up to him and reach up to take his hand off your shoulder and lacing your fingers through his, cheeks hurting from how hard you’re smiling. Matt’s own smile brightens at your gesture, taking one last long look over your figure before gesturing with his head for you to follow him out to the car.

You’re now both seated at a quaint diner you always walked by but never stopped at. The short drive from your apartment had been filled with Matt’s playlist (you noticed the title; Soft) humming quietly through the car, the both of you exchanging shy smiles and fleeting glances, and still your butterflies persisted; but they had calmed from the anxious variety to a subtle, exciting, murmur.

“So… what made you finally message me, I was sittin’ around all that time, waiting for ya.”, Matt’s words are said with an impish expression, jovial smile playing at his features. Once again you felt that pull, like you couldn’t lie to Matt if someone paid you, if it was anyone else this might have annoyed you but something about this boy, and the spell it seems he’s putting you under, does nothing to deter you.

“Honestly? I was kind of embarrassed about how we met, I mean you carried me to bed.” Your words are followed by a sheepish chuckle which Matt enthusiastically returns,

“C’mon you don’t have to be embarrassed about that, I actually happened to enjoy tucking you into bed.” his words are teasing but the smile he’s flashing you is warm and sincere.

Leaning onto his elbows on the table between you, getting a bit closer to your face, he looks down to your lips as he continues speaking, “Carrying you to your room might’ve been my favorite part, wouldn’t mind doing it again… Y’know, if you ever need me to.” As he says this, he reaches out to take your hand into his own, “I’m glad it was me that night, I- I just mean… I’m glad I know you now.”

Listening to his words, entranced by the way he speaks, with only one thought running through your mind. Like your mouth has a mind of its own, you blurt out; “Can I kiss you?”

The instant heat to your face and the change on his face, mouth dropping slightly, still with the same smug smile, makes you widen your eyes.

What is it about this guy that makes me want to embarrass myself?!?

“I-“, before you can get a word out, Matt’s eyes soften. Examining you for a second, he puts his free hand to your jaw, leaning just a bit closer to capture your lips in a deep kiss.

It was incredible. Slow and easy, it’s not the kind of kiss that leads to something else, he’s kissing you like it’s all he wanted, like he could just do this forever, his nose brushing against you as he moves with the way you do, tongue just barely brushing your lips as if he’s introducing you to the way he kisses, it’s making you melt.

The minute he pulls away, you feel yourself tilting forward to chase his lips. You, as well as Matt’s large hand on your cheek, stops your movement. The look in his eyes is heavy, his thumb strokes softly against the apple of your cheeks, never breaking eye contact with you while you feel your head get fuzzy, focusing on the way he licks his lips.

“Y-you’re really good at that…”, you giggle as you say it, no longer concerned with feeling stupid around him. Matt moves the hand on your cheek up to your hair, smoothing down where your locks had fallen into your face, beaming at your words.

“How’d you guess flattery works so well on me?”, he’s now moving to the other side of the booth to sit next to you. Matt doesn’t let go of your hand, just lets your locked fingers rest on his leg between you two. Smirking down at the way you’re blushing for him, he leans down to whisper closer to your ear, “Wanna get out of here?”

Turning your head to face him, your nose brushes his face he’s that close. “Yes, please…”, you nod and squeeze his hand lightly. Matt stands up and leads you out to his car, holding the door for you on your way out.

Matt asks if you’d like to go back to his place, saying it’s only fair since he got to see your bedroom already. Of course, you agree. Your lips are still tingling from his kiss, the hand he was previously holding yours with, is now squeezing your thigh as he drives. You thought the feelings you had for him before were intense, but now you almost feel like you’re gonna explode if you don’t get your lips back on his.

Pulling into Matt’s garage, he turns to meet your eyes, “We’re here, my brothers are home, you can meet ‘em if you’d like?”, you nod at his suggestion, “I would love to.” You can’t seem to wipe the smile from your face.

The second the door shuts behind you a voice calls out from the top of the stairs, “Matt? Is that you?”, to which Matt responds back affirmatively. “How’d the date go, bro?!”, the voice nears, then a head of shaggy hair and a backwards cap pops over the banister, looking down to you two.

“Oh-“, the boy says as he now takes notice of your presence as Matt leads you up the steps. “Sorry, hi, didn’t realize Matt had company.” the boys look changes from surprise to a cheeky smile, wiggling his eyebrows. Matt scoffs and turns to you shaking his head, before shooting a look up at his brother, “Jesus, Chris have a little decorum, dude.”, as you reach the living room and come face to face with who you now can identify as Chris, Matt moves his free hand between you two, “This is my brother, Chris, he wasn’t dropped or anything he’s just like that.”

This sentence spurs Chris into a raucous laughing fit, you can’t help but join as he breathlessly says; “God, you are funny, isn’t he funny?”, Matt is now rolling his eyes, but he can’t deny the smile stretching over his face as he gently tugs your hand, leading you to sit on the couch.

Chris is on one side of the sectional sitting heavily into the cushions, still trying to catch his breath. Matt stands in front of you where you’re perched politely on the edge of the seat, posture perfect, like you’re trying to make the best first impression.

“You can get comfortable, take your shoes off if you’d like, want anything to drink?”, his reassurance is helping ease your nerves, it’s not that you’re uncomfortable, you just always felt a little awkward when in a new place with new people. Shooting a thankful smile to Matt, you slide back in the sofa to slump further against the backrest. “Yes, please, uhm I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”

When Matt leaves your side to walk into the kitchen, you toe off your shoes, moving them to the side of the couch and out of the way. Chris sits up, resting his elbows on his knees and turns to look at you, as you tuck your leg under yourself, getting more comfy in your seat. “So how’d you guys meet? This kid doesn’t tell me anything.”

Laughing lightly you look over to Chris, “It’s sort of a crazy story, uh, he saw me outside that club downtown, uhm this guy was trying to get me to leave with him and your brother came up, knocked the guy out and ended up driving me home…”, you blush relaying the story.

Chris’ mouth drops open and he straightens up, looking behind you to where Matt is. “Okay so that’s why your knuckles were busted and you came home in the middle of the night, Batman! I’m telling you this guy is more tight-lipped than the secret service.”, he shakes his head in awe, “That’s insane, are you okay? Sounds pretty scary.”

You nod as you see Matt coming back to the couch, handing you a glass of water as he settles into the cushion right next to you, throwing his arm over the couch behind you. “Yes, yeah, everything’s fine now, just… probably shouldn’t go back to that club.”, you mumble out the last part and Matt moves his arm down to your shoulders pulling you closer into him.

“Nah, you should be able to go where you want to without freaks like that. Y’know our brother Nick really likes that place, if you ever need an escort. Plus he has the same face as Matt, but he’s way more vicious if you could believe it, that creep wouldn’t even look at you wrong.”

You smile at Chris’ words, finding out Matt’s brothers are just as kind and sweet as him warms your heart. “I guess you’re right, just, yeah it shook me up a lot. Maybe I’ll take you up on that,” you face your attention to Matt, who you noticed is already looking down at you, “Where is your older brother?”, the boy next to you shakes his head lightly, “‘M not quite sure, he’s always out, the total opposite of me.”, He finishes his sentence with a sheepish look.

Chris stands up while checking his phone, “Speaking of which, I’m actually about to bounce too, gonna get dinner with Sam.” Matt nods to Chris as he makes his way down the stairs, before refocusing his attention to you.

As soon as Chris is out of sight, you put your glass onto the table in front of you, with a new sense of confidence under Matt’s heady gaze, straightening up, you attach your lips to his, hand coming to rest on his knee thats bent on the couch between you. Your boldness must’ve caught Matt by surprise as he makes a soft gasping noise, instantly moving his hands to the sides of your neck and pulling you deeper into the kiss. This time it’s entirely more intense than your first kiss, which in comparison would be considered soft.

Matt’s kissing you like he’s hungry, like he has to kiss the air out of your lungs for himself. It’s messy and greedy, and you feel like you can’t keep up with his pace, but it’s turning you on in a way you’ve never been.

The feeling of being wanted so much feels so unfamiliar to you, the needy dominance he’s pouring into the kiss is making you feel lightheaded. Matt’s hands move from your neck down your back and to your thighs, he reaches under you and uses his grip to manhandle you into his lap.

Breaking from the kiss, you throw your head back, chest heaving as you try and suck in as much air as possible, before Matt is laying on his back, using one hand on the back of your neck and one on your waist to pull you on top of him and back to his mouth. A small whimper leaves you as you’re now sitting completely on top of him, chest pressed to his, and your panties are right on his belt buckle. You feel his hips rolling up into you, causing you to let out an embarrassingly loud moan, “Matt- Matt…”, he moves his lips to trail over your cheeks and jawline as you tuck your face into his neck, hiding the blazing blush over your face, “Fuck, so pretty…”, his voice is an octave deeper as his breath fans against your ear, his hands are all over you, rubbing up and down your waist, moving one hand to cup your jaw, pulling you back to look at him.

“So fuckin’ good, doll… Want you to grind on me, hm? Can you do that?”, your face is about two centimeters away from his, the way he’s looking up to you, his eyes pleading and your sparkly lipgloss shimmering on his lips and chin, you couldn’t possibly deny him.

Readjusting on his lap, moving to sit directly on his hard-on, causing Matt to let out the most delicious whine you’ve ever heard. “Mmm~ yes, yeah”, nodding frantically you sit up straight, hands on Matt’s chest as his lock tightly onto your hips, he doesn’t shift you, just holds on waiting for your move.

You start by circling your hips shyly, grinding down into him, feeling his jeans get tighter, it makes your whole body hot. Looking down, furrowing your brow and whimpering slightly at the sensation of him letting himself be used to get you off, “Fuck, Matt, so hot, feels so good, thank you~”, he groans deeply, squeezing your hips and bucking up into you. “Always so polite, huh? Good fucking girl, just how you need it, just take it from me, baby… Fuuuuck, got me so hard just from your lips….”

The way he talks to you makes your mind blank, hips stuttering as you feel yourself getting closer, “Can’t- Matt, ‘m gonna-“, your words cut off as you continue grinding down onto him, his hips still working under you, matching your rhythm even as it changes, Matt pulls you by the back of your head to kiss at your face, speaking in between each one, “‘S okay, baby, I want you to, want you to come undone, doing so good, f’me…~”

Your breathing picks up as you start to fist his shirt into your hands, hips speeding up as Matt grabs at you again, helping your movements by guiding you to grind deeper into him. “Uh huh, there ya go, sweetheart, are you gonna cum, baby? Just let go~ ‘s alright…”, his voice comes out right next to your ear as your face is tucked into his chest, muffling the strangled moans being pulled from you.

One last sharp thrust from Matt is what sends you over, letting out a loud whine, burying your head farther into him as you grip onto his sweater tighter. “Fuck yeah, good job, baby. Need ya to let it all out for me… thaat’s it… good girl~”, you feel one of Matt’s hands come to rest on the back of your head, soothing you.

Your noises don’t cease as Matt continues moving under you, your body going limp on top of him, “M-matt, too much, too good… please…”, the overstimulation on your sore clit makes you shake. “Okay okay, doll. You’re alright… Atta girl”, he smooths down your hair, patting your back as you come down from your orgasm.

You catch your breath while you cuddle into the side of his neck, your hands unfurl from his top as Matt keeps an arm wrapped around your back, sitting up with you still in his lap. “Y’okay, kid?”, he whispers into your ear, rubbing up and down the small of your back, using his left hand to push your hair off your face and tilting your chin up to look at him.

When you lock eyes with him, you give him a dazed look, smiling lazily. “M’okay, that… did- did you… finish?”, suddenly you start feeling shy again, which you know is stupid since you just rode this guy with all your clothes still on. Matt chuckles, his smile is sheepish as he speaks, “How could I not have, you’re a pro…” His teasing praise makes you laugh as you sit up a bit, playfully smacking his chest, “Stop.” you once again tuck into his chest, hiding your embarrassment.

“Okay, I’ll stop teasing. Seriously though you do not have to worry about me, ya looked so good, princess. I like seeing you all blissed out like that, you’re gorgeous.”, he leans into you, kissing from your cheek to your jaw, coming to kiss under your ear before whispering into it, “Can’t wait to see how pretty you look while I fuck you stupid.”, and you swear you can hear the smirk in his words.

[heartpiratedrabbles]

Overly Cautious

Prompt: Katakuri comes back from a mission to learn you're pregnant despite never wanting to be a father.

Requested by anonymous

Katakuri X Fem Reader

Katakuri had been sent on a mission to retrieve something, leaving you alone, having you stand in as the Minister of Flour while he was away. Everything was going well; you had done this plenty of times in the past. But some of the workers had noticed you not eating as much, you’d wave them off without a concern. The concern really came when a cake was being made and just the smell of it made you want to vomit.

         You couldn’t hide it from anyone, you were in the middle of a meeting about the upcoming tea party and what pastries would be served. Everyone forced you to see a doctor, no one wanting to deal with the wrath of your husband if he got back to find you sick.

         And that’s how you ended up in the ward, a doctor running tests and looking you over. Much to your dismay numerous curious eyes also making sure you wouldn’t leave this forced appointment. “And when was the last time you were sexually active?” The question threw you off guard, nearly spitting out the tea that you had been allowed to drink.

You’re face burning red as you whip your head around to look at those who had forced you here. None of them dared to make eye-contact with you, some whistling while looking off in a random direction. They tried to protest when you kicked them out, but you refused to discuss such things in front of so many people. Once the door was finally closed the doctor, who was not too amused asked the question again. “It’s been a little a while, 7 or 8 weeks I think,” Thinking back to the last intimate night you had with Katakuri, he’d been so busy lately that it’d had been longer than normal.

The doctor wrote some notes down and continued with other questions before doing some blood tests. You sat back, expecting this to be a simple flu. That would give you a headache, you’d be forced to bedrest as to not spread it and not slow down progress. The doctor padded his way back into the room, flipping through the papers reading the results of everything he had tested for. “Well, it seems as though you’re pregnant.”

         You took the rest of the day off to think about things. Katakuri had adamantly told you he didn’t want children. He didn’t want to pass down his genes in fear of what could happen, you understood his concerns and agreed to not try. And while you were sexually active, contraceptions were used at every avenue, Birth Control, Condoms, Spermicide, even a Plan B if there was a thought of something going wrong.

         Katakuri would be getting back from his mission in a couple days, so it’s best to just wait until then. Can’t be announcing things like this. As much as you’d prefer to sweep this under the rug, Big Mom was someone who didn’t partake in abortions, wanting a large family and everything, it’d be counter-productive in her mind. So as much as you wanted too, you’d have to go to a different island, and that included having Katakuri with you to avoid Big Mom’s gaze.

         But your plans changed quickly, despite clearly telling the Doctor to keep the news secret, the next day you arrived to the office with banners and some tastefully small cakes. Cards going around with small gifts as though it was common place to celebrate so early on. You tried to get them to calm down, but everyone was overjoyed that their leader finally had an heir on the way.

~~~

         Katakuri stared off into the distance, leaning against the wall as the ship got closer to their homeland. It had been a pointless mission, delivering a letter to a foreign country, demanding there be talks of a marriage. He hated being away from Komugi island for too long, from his normal job as the Minister of Flour. There he’d at least be able to relax a little bit more than normal, and when he was with you, he could let his guard down completely. Trusting you to cover for him or tell him if someone was coming. Being on a ship where he refused to lay down in fear of prying eyes had taken a toll on him, no matter how short the trip was.

         As the ship docked some of his administrators found him, happy as ever with large smiles. He wasn’t listening too much to their words of congratulations, assuming it was just words on finishing the mission, he just wanted to make it home so he could finally sleep on his back.

         As he was bidding farewell to those around him, one of them said something rather confusing, “Ah, tell Y/N that the mid-wife will be around to talk to her next week. I forgot to let her know earlier.” A mid-wife? For his Wife? Katakuri swallowed the lump in his throat, reasoning that it had to have been due to some unforeseen baby boom in the town.

         But as he passed through the halls of his home, he noticed servants scurrying about more than normal. All with excited faces, some with parcels in their hands. It wasn’t until he got to your room pushing the door open to see you sitting at your tea table, a hand rubbing your forehead, “If it’s another gift then send it back. How many times do I need to tell you all to keep this quiet.” Your tired voice brushing past him while you waved your hand, not even looking in the direction of the door.

         You heard the door close and let out a heavy sigh, looking to the already inconvenient pile of baby toys, clothes, and furniture that people of the island had pushed onto you. Nobody in this god forsaken town could keep quiet, which would make things so much harder, if Big Mom got word of this, you were more than certain you wouldn’t be able to pass off a random miscarriage without her knowing the truth.

         “What is all this?” You jumped a bit, hearing your husbands voice. You never even got word of his arrival to the island, much less that he had already come home.

         “We need to talk.” You voice was serious as you looked over at him, he was staring down at you unmoving. “Why not sit down?” He stayed still, crossing his arms for an explanation and you sighed again, this wasn’t normal for him, but you were already too tired to deal with it.

         Your sigh caused Katakuri to take another step further, “I get that you must be doing some fundraiser or gala. But you shouldn’t have these donations in here.” You spit out your drink, looking up at you’re normally smart husband.

         “Excuse me?” The silence as he stares at you hit you hard, “You think I’m doing a fundraiser? And you think all these stupid things are donations? Is that really what you think?!” Your annoyance peeking through clearly. First the news got, then the storm of gifts, and now even your husband seems to be getting on your nerves. “Katakuri I’m pregnant.” You shake your head, stating it out right was best in these types of situations, “So, might I suggest you sit down so we can talk abou-“

         “Your idea of a joke is awful Y/N,” He walks over to the neat stacks of gifts, all of which you were sending back when you got the chance, “I mean really? You think staging some baby items is enough to convince me? This prank is in bad taste.” His regal voice showed no sign of joking and it made you more frustrated than you already were.

         “This isn’t a joke,” You were getting another headache but the subtle glare he shot you made it clear he wasn’t going to listen, “You know what? You just got home, why don’t you rest? I’ll send these gifts back in the meantime.”

~~~

         The next day Katakuri came to his office looking a little more refreshed and prepared for the day. He sits down in the confines of the space and starts looking through the reports, “It seems you fell a little behind while I was away. Why?” His smooth tone showing you he was ignoring everything you said the day prior.

         You had expected something like this to happen so you put the paper with the test result in front of him. “You’re lovely administers made me go to the doctors after some sickness.” His eyes scanned the paper, reading every detail until you could tell he landed on the prognosis. “I’m about 2 months along.”

         Katakuri sucks in his breath, you can tell by the twist of his eyebrow that this isn’t going to be fun, deciding to sit on the couch while you wait for his response.

Honestly, you barely had time to process this all yourself, being pushed and pulled everywhere by workers. The only time you had time to think for yourself was late at night when people thought you’d be sleeping. The first night you had spent just staring into the darkness that was the room trying to figure out the situation. Truly, you could relate to what Katakuri was probably going through.

         You two never planned on being parents. You vehemently discussed avoiding parenthood the natural way, maybe adopting if you’re mother-in-law became pushy. The thing you wanted most right now was a glass of whiskey, but for clear reasons you couldn’t get one. Your body felt so tense since finding out, your muscles aching from the lack of relaxing.

You were hoping that your husband would be the one to make sense of it for you, but seeing how he’s reacted so far, he was in the same boat as you. It stung, your heart dropping slightly as you put on this front of neutrality. But it was the best you could do, if you didn’t maintain this semblance of control over yourself, you felt like you’d break down.

Finally, your husband spoke, although his words didn’t make you feel any better. If anything, it caused you to go further into the downward spiral that was your mind, “Well then whose is it?” His voice was dipped in venom but maintained a single tone, “If you wanted a kid so bad, we could have adopted.”

You bit your tongue, staring at the floor in front of you. He waited a couple second for a response but you couldn’t bring any words to come out before he continued, “You didn’t have to go behind my back like this.” His even tone made every muscle in your body tense more than they already were.

A knock at the door caught both of your attentions, yet your body was still tightly wound as you got up, opening the door to let whoever it was in. Someone with a bunch of papers and a wide smile looked back at you and you ushered them in while brushing your way out of the suffocating room.

Offering small smiles to those you passed as you hurried away from the situation. It was only after you had gotten to a small reading room and locked the door behind you that you slid down onto the floor. Your room was too far away and this was unused enough that no one would come looking here. A hand pressed against your stomach while the other tangled itself in your hair, gripping tightly to feel anything other than the heavy emotions that have flowed through you for days now.

You haven’t let anyone know of your own feelings on this matter, other than wanting to keep it on the down low, everyone assuming it was so you could Katakuri yourself, and yet somehow that one single voiced wish hadn’t come true. The entire island singing praise and you were the center of their attention.

You began panting, your throat swelling up making it hard to grasp at air, feeling your body start to shake. Even Katakuri wasn’t willing to listen. This has to be a lot for him, but I thought he loved me. Your body curling in on itself, the hand in your hair running down to grip at the back of your neck while your nails dug into your stomach. He even suggested I had cheated on him, found another man. The thought itself made you sick to your stomach, your heart beat drowning out any noise around you, and eyes squeezing shut as the world got darker around you. Am I just an object to everyone? You tried, and failed at opening your mouth, attempting to get any air to fill your compressed lungs. The beating of your heart the only reminder of that you were in fact alive.

~~~        

         Katakuri was walking down the hallways. Every time he passed someone who worked with you, he’d ask the same questions. All of them similar stories that made his heart twist with worry, and yet when he went looking for you, you were nowhere to be found. It had been hours since you disappeared from his office without a second glance, the thought of how you left was now hurting him, now that he’s had time to calm down and truly think about everything.

         Since no one could find you, he was the person that people were bringing presents too, all of which he ushered to be sent wherever you had put them, some people asking if he had seen you so they could ask more questions. He hadn’t even been back a full day and yet he was overwhelmed with so much. Stalking back to your bedroom, assuming that could be his one quiet place, maybe even find you again to try and have a conversation about everything.

         His heart jumped into his throat thinking about it, you had been trying to talk to him this entire time and each attempt was met with malice. You were so patient, letting him voice his hate and distrust. Watching you sit on the couch silently, neither confirming nor denying allegations said to you, though your knuckles turned white in your lap. But what else could he think? With every safeguard the two of you had put into place, how else could you had ended up with a child growing inside of you? Walking into your shared room he looked around, the pile of gifts in the corner seemingly doubled in size from previously in the day.         

Yet still, there wasn’t a sign of you anywhere. Katakuri paced a bit, looking for any sign that you had been here after leaving him earlier. But there wasn’t a single thing out of place or used compared to this morning. The realization that no one has seen you for most of the day hitting him with a cold sweat as he calls for security

[moonstruckme]

hello mae! you said that you’re tentatively thinking about doing poly! jily? how about them x shy!reader who is used to spending holidays alone but now that she’s in a relationship, James and Lily wanna give her experiences of like carving pumpkins, baking cookies, or something like that.

just cute and domestic fall activities!! I hope that’s enough.

Thank you for requesting lovely!

poly!Jily x shy!reader ♡ 845 words

You smile, and James plants his lips on your cheek just before the flash. 

“Perfect,” Lily says while the camera whirs. She takes the photo it spits out, going to stow it in a shady corner of the porch. 

“Now one with you,” James urges. 

“No.” Lily waves him off as you second James’ request. “How would we get all of us and our pumpkins in it?” 

“James has long arms,” you say.

"Yeah, Evans." James grabs you roughly around the shoulders, making your face heat even as you smile. "I have long arms. Give it here."

After some debate Lily hands over the camera. James holds it out as far as he can, waiting until you’re all holding up your jack-o-lanterns before pressing the button. 

It goes beside the other photo, waiting for the film to develop. You know as soon as it does, both photos will be clustered in with the others on James and Lily’s fridge, held up by magnets beginning to lose their strength under the weight of so many. Lily has always liked to take pictures, and ever since you got together she’s been cramming ones of you into every empty space. This relationship is relatively new for you, and most days you’re still trying to figure out where you fit, but Lily and James do everything to make you feel welcome. In a million tiny ways, they show you all the time that they care just as much for you as they do for each other. 

James looks between your pumpkins pridefully. “Whose do we think turned out the best?” 

“Lily’s,” you say at the same time as Lily says, “Mine.” 

James’ mouth falls open. “Mine was good too!”

“Sorry, Jamie.” You give his shoulder a consoling pat. “Hers is just better.” 

The fact of the matter is, your girlfriend was simply patient where you and James were not. She outlined her jack-o-lantern’s face beforehand in marker, used a small knife to achieve the curvatures of one heart-shaped eye and one winking one, and took the time to make the edges of her cuts look nice and clean. James and you, however, tried to freehand things with much larger knives; it had not gone quite so well. 

“I think there should be points for creativity,” says James, frowning at his botched pumpkin. He’d tried to give it round eyes, and in the process accidentally cut more than he meant to. The result is jagged and vaguely upsetting, so eventually he decided it was an ill pumpkin and trailed its entrails out of its mouth so it looks like it’s vomiting pumpkin guts. 

“It was a very creative solution,” Lily tells James. And to you, “You did really well for your first time, too, sweetheart.” 

You snort. Yours is nearly as bad as James’. Both of your partners had to show you how to saw through the pumpkin flesh more than once to keep you from yanking the knife out and stabbing yourself. After many tutorials, you’d managed two triangle-shaped eyes, but the teeth you’d tried to put in your jack-o-lantern’s mouth had fallen out, so now it just looks like a rather simplistic, very upbeat face. 

“You did,” Lily insists, but she’s repressing a laugh too as she looks down at your pumpkin. “It’s cute.” 

“It looks like something a five-year-old could have done,” you acknowledge. 

“You and a five-year-old have about the same amount of experience carving pumpkins, so that’s not really so bad,” says James. He reaches for the polaroids Lily took. “Let’s see how these turned out.” 

“James Potter,” Lily’s voice goes sharp, “don’t you dare touch those with your slimy hands.” 

“Okay, alright.” James holds his hands up in the air. He stands instead, backing away slowly like Lily has him at gunpoint. “C’mon, lovie, let’s go fish the seeds out in the sink.” 

“What for?” you ask, following him as he carries your large bowl of pumpkin entrails inside. 

“If you separate the seeds and roast them, you can eat them.” James raises his eyebrows at you. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had pumpkin seeds before.” 

“Nope.” 

“Ugh. You poor, deprived girl.” James takes your face in his hands, and you smile despite the slick feeling of his pumpkin-y fingers on your cheeks. His eyebrows scrunch pityingly as he kisses above your nose. “We’ll right that wrong today, sweetheart, don’t you worry.” 

“You haven’t been missing out on much,” Lily says, slipping past the two of you with your photos. She wedges them underneath a magnet on the fridge. “It’s a lot of effort for a snack.” 

“She only says that because she can’t stand the guts,” James tells you conspiratorially. 

“Really?” You mash your hands into the stringy pumpkin bits. “I kind of like them.” 

Lily makes a face. “They’re all slimy and weird. And sticky.” 

“Wimp,” James teases. 

“You’ve just called them guts, James. In what world does that sound appealing?” 

“Angel,” James says in a quiet voice, “you’ll protect me, won’t you?” 

You frown at him. “Why?” 

He picks up a small mass of pumpkin guts and lobs it at your girlfriend. 

“James!”

[messrmoonyy]

-What they’re like as your bf/gf (Hcs) 18+

Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Sadie Adler, Molly O’Shea

Request- Hi if it’s okay could I ask for some hcs of some of the gang and what they’re like dating with you? NSFW ones toooo🙈🙊 could you include Arthur, John, Dutch, Sadie, Javier and maybe any of the other girls Mary-Beth or Molly or Karen? Thank you 🙏🏻

A/N- I didn’t include Javier cause I like barely speak with him in camp or anything idk I don’t vibe with Javier tbh. And I saw my chance to word vomit my Molly brain rot and ran with it so she’s the girl I picked. Hope this is okay! Enjoy :)

Masterlist - requests are open :)

Arthur Morgan

- We’ve all seen how he was with Mary. He’d be besotted with you

- His journal would be filled with sketches of you, entries talking about how much he adores you, little notes about how you looked that day or musings about his plans for your future together.

- Definitely doodles a little heart with your initials too <3

- He’s touch starved. So he loves physical contact. A hand to your knee, your back, arm around your shoulders or your waist. He likes keeping you close.

- Brings you stuff from his little travels. Picks flowers for you, finds little trinkets for you.

- Keeps a picture of you by his bed.

- Forehead kisses!!!!!

- Kisses your hand. And kisses to your wrist. He loves when you reach up to cup his face and he can turn to press his lips against your wrist.

- He’s so much more than a tough, burly cowboy. He’s quiet, caring, considerate. And he adores you

NSFW

- takes his time. Likes to work at you until not a single tense muscle is left in your body. Worships you.

- Loves any positions where he can see your face, needs to be close enough to constantly kiss you and tell you how good you are for him

- “ there’s my girl, doin so good for me darlin “ “ jus’ like that darlin, let me take good care of ya “

- Not incredibly vocal, but the noises he does make he ensures are right by your ear.

- Refuses to finish before you ever.

- Loves to finish inside tho. He knows it’s risky, but he loves the closeness. And if he’s feeling particularly risky he’ll definitely push his come back into you with his fingers “ don’t waste it now “

- Grips The headboard.

John Marston

- he’s stupid. He really is. He’ll be head over heels for you, with you clearly reciprocating those feelings and he’d still think you didn’t like him like that.

- Like. You could kiss him and he’d still be like ‘ what are we? ‘

- When he does finally put two and two together he’ll have no shame or cautions in showing you off.

- He’s handsy. Likes coming up behind you when you’re washing dishes for Pearson to rub at your shoulders.

- Or pull you down to sit on his lap before you can even think about taking the empty spot on the log next to him by the fire.

- Overprotective. One tiny snide comment from anyone and he’s ready to start swinging.

- Definitely knows how to push your buttons and wind you up, and will do it just for fun and to get a rise outta you.

- And then spend the rest of day grovelling and apologising.

NSFW

- Loves going down on you. Like. Loves it. The man could spend hours there if you’d let him and Lord has he tried.

- Not very serious most of the time.

- Pretty vocal. And doesn’t really care if anyone’s listening either.

- Like i said, he’s handsy. His hands are restless and will grab at whatever part of you they can.

- Loves when you ride him and has absolutely made a cowgirl joke more than once.

- Will grab at your hips and guide your movements as you do. Told you he’s handsy.

- But also isn’t opposed to you on your back, legs over his shoulders. Presses kisses to your ankles and makes jokes about how good the view is.

Dutch Van Der Linde

- he’s not the most attentive of people at times. He’s constantly in his head and constantly thinking about things that aren’t you.

- But when he does allow himself time alone with you he is disgustingly charming.

- He always knows what to say, always knows the right words to have you melting into a puddle at his feet. You could be in the worst mood with him but a few whispers in your ear and it’s all forgotten.

- Has a million terms of endearment for you. My angel, my dear , my darling. He rarely ever uses your actual name, only when he’s mad.

- Loves to give you gifts, the more expensive the better. And he likes you to show them off too. He likes to show you off.

- Reads to you a lot.

- PDA is afraid of him. He doesn’t care where he is or who’s watching him, he’ll loop an arm around your waist to kiss your neck, pull you onto his lap when he’s reading beside his tent and kiss you. No shame.

NSFW

- will take his time with you but in a far different way to, say, Arthur

- He’ll edge you and overstimulate you for hours, because be gets off on the fact that you simply let him. That you obey his every command.

- Degrading and humiliating 🤝🏻 Dutch Van Der Linde

- He’s never too mean. And his degrading comments are more often than not laced with something sweet.

- Dacryphilic. 100000%. He loves watching you cry because he’s worked you into such an overstimulated mess.

- He’ll swipe your tears away or kiss them from your cheeks “ well isn’t that just a pretty sight? “ “ those tears for me, my angel? “

- Definitely has some kind of authority kink. Likes you calling him sir for sure.

- Loves you giving him head. Just loves you on your knees. It’s a power thing. And he’s a cocky son of a bitch.

- Sat back in his chair and won’t lift a damn finger to help you out, won’t even unbuckle his belt. And don’t tell me he doesn’t smoke whilst he watches you.

Sadie Adler

- She is absolutely not shy about her feelings when she finally accepts she has them.

- Shes just so sweet to you.

- Around camp she’s stuck to you like glue. Her arm is permanently around your waist or your shoulders, or her hand laced with yours and is ready to snap at any intrusive questions from anyone else about it at the drop of a hat

- Love language is gift giving. Just taken in a bounty but found a shiny lil necklace in his pocket? Well. It’s hers now. Or should I say, yours.

- If your hairs long enough she’ll braid it like hers, any excuse to be able to sit close to you and whisper sweet things in your ear.

- Would teach you how to shoot better, she wants to make sure you know how to defend yourself. but also wants the excuse to stand behind you and show you how to hold her rifle properly.

- Big spoon.

NSFW

- Sadie’s gained control over literally everything else in life, and it doesn’t change in the bedroom

- She trusts you whole heartedly but she’s not about to give up any sort of control to you for a While

- Makes sure she can see your face at all times, loves watching your face contort and relax in pleasure that she’s giving you

- Full of praise “ ain’t you just the prettiest thing? “ “ oh look at you! D’ya know how pretty you look from here? “ “ always such a good girl for me “

- Has a thing for putting her fingers in your mouth. Especially after she’s just fucked you with them.

- Having you on your knees eating her out drives her crazy. Will pull at your hair a little too hard but will soothe the sting with a thousand words of praise about how good you make her feel.

- And now hear me out. Loves to watch you. Will book you a hotel room together just so she can sit across the room and watch you touch yourself for her, encouraging you the entire time

- It’s never long before she absolutely has to have her hands on you though in the end.

Molly O’Shea

- sheeeee has some trust issues. And abandonment issues. She’s just… she’s a lot at times.

- But she is fiercely loyal and will love you with every fibre of her being

- And she wants to be loved as fiercely in return. She’ll spiral without constant reassurance “ d’you even love me anymore? “ “did I do somethin wrong? Haven’t told me you love me today “

- She knows deep down you do love her. She’s just afraid.

- She is such a romantic. She loves holding your hand, sitting close to you, doing your makeup like hers and stealing kisses in between painting your lips red

- She’ll write you sappy romantic poetry and leave you lil notes

- You’ll often overhear her gushing to other people about how in love she is too. She just loves to talk about you and how deeply she adores you.

- Likes when you give her forehead kisses.

NSFW

- Pillow princess. End of story.

- She’s not completely submissive though. She’ll tell you what she wants and what she likes

- She just wants to be taken care of okay. She needs to be taken care of.

- Makes the softest, sweetest sounds and will tell you she loves you a million times over.

- Enjoys when things just… naturally happen. Cuddling with you at night, but pushing her hips lightly back against you. Which usually ends with your hand slipping past her waistband and making her come on your fingers.

- Likes to be on top of you sometimes, simply so she can show off whilst she strips. Not to really do anything. Shes really not that much of a giver. She likes being watched. She likes to know she’s desired. And usually it ends up with you dragging her to sit on your face.

- You have to shower her with praise. She wants to know she looks beautiful, that she’s doing well, worship her. Which is incredibly easy for you cause like fucking look at her she’s gorgeous.

- Wraps herself around you when you cuddle after, legs intertwined and arms around you, head buried in your chest or neck. Pls my sweet baby needs to be held.

[pedroscowgirl]

Our little secret

aaron hotchner x afab!reader

fluff/ bit angsty ?

don't read if you're uncomfy with pregnancies or if you don't like them!

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, throwing up, anxiety , secret relationship

summary: You and Aaron Hotchner are secretly dating while working a BAU case when you start feeling sick, blaming it on food poisoning. The truth, however, is that you're pregnant, a fact you’ve been hiding from the team and Hotch

wc: 2k

A/n: this is a short one srry

The day started like any other—early, cold, and demanding. You and the rest of the BAU team were called to the scene of a particularly brutal murder. The sight was horrific, even by your standards. As the team gathered around the body, discussing the unsub's potential profile, you felt a wave of nausea rise in your throat.

You've seen worse. You’ve been to enough crime scenes that the blood and gore should be something you’re used to by now. But this time, it felt different. You tried to focus on Hotch’s voice as he calmly led the discussion, but the queasy feeling in your stomach was only getting worse. Your vision blurred slightly, and you knew that if you didn’t leave now, you were going to embarrass yourself in front of everyone.

You quickly excused yourself, turning on your heel and walking away from the scene as fast as you could without drawing more attention. As soon as you were out of sight, you broke into a run, reaching the nearest alley and doubling over to vomit. The sickness was sudden, but the relief was almost instant. You leaned against the wall, catching your breath and trying to steady your heart.

“Hey,” a voice startled you. You looked up to see Emily standing a few feet away, concern etched across her face. “Everything okay?” she asked, her eyes scanning your face for answers.

You wiped the back of your hand across your mouth, embarrassed to have been caught. “Uh, yeah. I think I got food poisoning or something,” you said, trying to shrug it off.

Emily didn’t seem entirely convinced, but she nodded slowly. “Alright. Let’s head back.”

Together, you returned to the crime scene, hoping no one else would notice your sudden absence. But of course, as soon as you rejoined the group, Morgan was quick to ask. “You good?”

You could feel Hotch’s eyes on you, and for a split second, your gaze flicked to his before you answered. “Yeah, just food poisoning,” you repeated, your voice a little too casual. You hoped the explanation would suffice.

But Hotch raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. You’d been spending a lot of time with him lately, especially with the two of you sneaking around during the case. You’d shared several meals together over the past week, and if you were sick from something you ate, wouldn’t he be too? His mind was already working, but thankfully, he didn’t push the issue—not yet.

The nausea didn’t go away after that day. Every morning brought new waves of sickness, and every time you thought you were getting better, it hit again. You were careful to hide it from the team, but you couldn’t hide everything.

It didn’t take long for JJ to notice. She caught you sneaking off to the bathroom more than once, and after everything she went through with her own pregnancy, she didn’t need much to figure it out. She pulled Emily aside during a quieter moment, her voice low as she shared her suspicions.

“I think she’s pregnant,” JJ whispered, glancing over at you as you leaned against the wall, looking pale.

Emily’s eyes widened. “What? Is she even dating anyone?” she asked, surprised. “I mean, not that she has to be dating anyone to be pregnant, but you know…”

JJ shrugged. “I don’t know. But I recognize that look.”

Meanwhile, you were doing everything you could to keep yourself together. During another meeting later that afternoon, the team was deep in discussion about the unsub’s motives and next moves when you felt another wave of nausea. You excused yourself quickly, heading for the bathroom once again to throw up. When you returned, Hotch was waiting for you, his concern clear in the way he looked at you.

“Maybe you should stay in the hotel, rest up,” he said, his voice gentle but firm.

The suggestion hit a nerve, though. You were already feeling on edge, not just from the constant sickness, but from the stress of keeping your relationship with him a secret. Add to that the fact that you’d just confirmed your pregnancy with a couple of tests you bought in a small pharmacy that morning, and the last thing you wanted was to feel weak or out of control.

“I’m fine, Hotch,” you replied, your voice more stern than you intended.

His brow furrowed in confusion. He didn’t understand why you were suddenly so defensive. The two of you had always been careful about how you spoke to each other in front of the team, but this time, something was different. You could see the wheels turning in his mind, but for now, he let it go.

That evening, back at the hotel, you finally had a moment to yourself. The stress of the case, the secrecy of your relationship with Hotch, and now the realization that you were pregnant had all been weighing heavily on your mind. You paced around your room, trying to figure out how to handle it all. How would you tell Hotch? Would he be angry? Would he even want this?

A knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. You opened it to find Hotch standing there, his expression softer than usual.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. You hadn’t expected to see him this evening.

“I just wanted to check on you,” he said simply, stepping into the room when you gestured for him to come in.

“Thanks,” you muttered, unsure of what else to say. You were too tired to keep up the pretense, but you weren’t ready to have the conversation you knew was coming, either.

Hotch looked at you, his concern deepening. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked, his voice soft but cautious.

You didn’t have time to answer. The nausea hit you again, and you barely made it to the bathroom before you were throwing up once more. Hotch followed you, kneeling beside you as you sat on the floor, resting your head against the cool tile.

“How is it that you have food poisoning, and Jack and I don’t?” he asked quietly, his hand resting gently on your back.

You let out a soft, bitter laugh, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “You know, Hotchner, for a professional profiler, you really suck at this.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard by your words. “What do you mean?” he asked, still confused.

Taking a deep breath, you realized there was no point in hiding it anymore. You looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m pregnant, Aaron,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

The silence that followed was deafening. Hotch just stared at you, his expression unreadable. The longer he stayed quiet, the more your nerves began to fray. You weren’t sure how he would react, and the uncertainty was eating away at you.

“Aaron… please say something,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

He blinked again, still processing. “I… I don’t know what to say,” he admitted, his voice quiet and full of emotion.

Your heart sank at his hesitation. You had feared this might be too much for him, that maybe he didn’t want this as much as you were starting to. But just as you were about to apologize or say something to ease the tension, you saw the tears well up in his eyes.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Aaron?”

Before you could react, Hotch leaned forward and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. “I’m so happy,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. He held you tightly for a moment longer, his hand gently rubbing your back as he tried to process everything. You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, feeling a strange sense of calm despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling around you. The silence was comfortable, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to just exist in it, soaking in the relief that came from finally telling him.

Aaron pulled back slightly, his hand moving to cup your face. His thumb brushed your cheek, and he gazed at you with a soft, adoring expression you rarely saw from him in public. It made your heart swell, and you could see how much he meant those words.

“I love you,” he whispered again, his voice filled with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. You smiled, your hand resting lightly on his chest, feeling the warmth radiate from him.

He leaned in, his lips inching closer to yours, but before he could kiss you, you instinctively put your hand on his chest and gently pushed him back. "Aaron…" you began, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. "I literally just threw up. You really don’t want to kiss me right now."

Aaron blinked in surprise and then chuckled softly, a rare sound that made your heart skip. "I don’t care," he said, the corners of his lips turning up into a small smile. He leaned in again, but you kept your hand firm against his chest, shaking your head.

"I care," you insisted, giving him a playful glare. "Trust me, you’ll regret it."

He laughed again, the tension between you easing, and nodded. "Alright, alright," he conceded, his voice warm and full of affection. "I’ll wait. But only because you insist."

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a little lighter as you sat back, leaning against the bathroom wall. The reality of the situation was still sinking in. You were pregnant. With Aaron’s child. It was overwhelming, but having him by your side made it feel less terrifying.

He sat down beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours as he took your hand in his. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice now more serious. "With all of this?"

You looked down at your intertwined fingers, the weight of the question pressing on you. "I… I’m scared," you admitted quietly. "I don’t know what’s going to happen. With the team, with us…"

Aaron nodded, understanding the unspoken worries. "We’ll figure it out," he said gently. "One step at a time. You don’t have to do this alone."

You squeezed his hand, the reassurance soothing the storm in your mind. "What if the team finds out?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "We’ve been so careful. But now…"

Aaron sighed, his thumb absentmindedly tracing patterns on your hand. "We’ll cross that bridge when we get there," he said after a moment. "Right now, you need to focus on taking care of yourself. And… if it comes out, then we’ll deal with it together."

The weight of his words settled over you, and though the fear was still there, it was more manageable with him by your side. You rested your head on his shoulder, the exhaustion from the day catching up with you. "What if I’m not ready?" you asked, your voice so quiet you weren’t sure if he heard you.

Aaron gently lifted your chin so you were looking into his eyes. "You don’t have to be ready right now," he said softly. "We’ll figure it out as we go. I’m here for you, always."

Your heart swelled at his words, and despite everything—the nausea, the uncertainty, the secrecy, you felt a flicker of hope. Maybe things wouldn’t be perfect, and maybe you weren’t fully prepared, but you knew you weren’t doing this alone.

Leaning against him, you closed your eyes, finally allowing yourself to relax. He held you close, his presence steady and comforting.

But just as you were starting to drift into a peaceful moment, a knock came at the door.

"Y/N?" It was Emily’s voice, followed by a second knock. "You in there?"

Your eyes shot open, and you and Aaron exchanged a look. Panic quickly replaced the calm.

"I think we’ll need to discuss our cover story soon," you muttered with a smirk, earning a quiet laugh from Aaron as he helped you to your feet.

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added): @looking1016 @pear-1206 @doe-eyed-diva @ssa-aaronhotchner @sweetpinkchampagne @totallyjovialblaze @pastelpinkflowerlife @donttrustlove @actualdeemon @jencole214 @fandomawesomeness @devilslittlehelper @mrs-ssa-hotch

[hiraethwrote]

NEVER GOT YOUR NAME

✧ pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader ✧ summary: based of this drabble — you're ex is borderline harassing you. he just will not leave you alone, and in a desperate attempt to get him off your back, you tell a little white lie. in panic, you grab the first stranger to walk by and introduce him as your date ✧ cw: fluff, light profanity, one little comment about previous sexual relationship, arguing, word vomit ngl (i'm describing too much sorry) pining, reader is smaller than satoru, mild use of petnames, no use of y/n ✧ word count: 3.5k

He was a menace. A true and genuine menace, who seemed to have some sort of natural ability in finding you, no matter where you were.

Maybe getting a restraining order was the next step — there was no way he managed to just randomly run into at the rate that he was, whether that was in the grocery store, the gas station or just on the street. No, he had to be stalking you, right? The universe wouldn’t be so cruel to give this guy, your god awful ex, the privilege of fulfilling his desires of bumping into you.

Yet, here you stood in front of him again.

His eyebrows pinched together, an innocent little smirk tilting his mouth crooked, feeding you the same lines he always did.

“Great seeing you again,” like you hadn’t ran into him not even three days ago. “You look fantastic, as always. How’ve you been, sweets?” Urgh, one of the many nicknames he had named you — your stomach turning at the sound of it. You were scared you might actually hurl.

“Stop calling me that,” you demanded, keeping your voice low. He always managed to bring your anger right to the surface, to which you had to use all your energy not to blow up in his face. It had already happened once, about two months after you broke up with him. You had raised your voice at him and lashed out, causing some random bystander to interfere — who had then proceed to take his side. Unbelievable, as if he wasn’t the one who had taken you for granted for the entirety of your relationship.

“Sorry, old habits die hard, you know.” So full of shit. You’d been broken up for months, there shouldn’t have been any problem dropping the pet names. He only did it as a tactic to try and manipulate you into his arms again. And to think you willingly used to sleep with this guy. “Since we’re both here, why don’t we grab lunch together?”

“Oh, please,” you breathed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“It’ll be good for us, sweets-“ don’t punch him, don’t punch him, don’t punch him. “Maybe we can talk some things-“

“I’m actually here on a date!”

Finally he shut up, only for his face to twist into an expression of pure disgust. It was clear the idea had never even crossed his mind — and you would have been able to enjoy his agony had it not been for the fact that it was a complete and utter lie, thrown out in a moment of desperation.

What were you to do when your ex decided to wait around for your date to arrive, and he never showed? You could already picture his face — the patronising pity he would pay you, while you’d be able to read his satisfaction behind his eyes, as he would use it against you for months to come.

You had only bought yourself some time and you needed to think fast.

“Who? I mean, do I know them? Have you met them before?” He stuttered out questions of bewilderment as your limbs were growing ever more frantic at your side.

And then the bell above the entrance of the cafe chimed a sweet tune, eyes snapping towards the sound. “Ah, there he is!” Your arms acted on their own accord, hands grabbing onto the bicep of the person who had been so unfortunate to walk in right as you were spiralling.

Swallowing the worst of your anxiety, you dared turn your head towards the random person, hoping to god he wasn’t ugly (because that would just be yet another thing your ex would badger you about).

Due to his height, you had to angle your head more than expected to meet his piercing eyes that were ogling you with complete confusion — but you only had time to take in his appearance for a slit second before you shot him a pleading look, betting everything on the off chance that he would be able to read the situation — but also finding it in himself to play along to your little performance.

Your fingers squeezed lightly at his arm, bringing him back to reality. Then it only took him a second to make up his mind, the white haired stranger wiping off his confusion and confidently throwing his muscular arm across your shoulders. Once he turned to face your ex, he had painted his features with the smuggest grin one could imagine, revealing a charming dimple.

He tilted forward slightly, which only brought more attention to how much taller he was than your ex, and shot his hand out between them. “Satoru, pleasure to meet you.” His tone matched his expression, not a single speckle of insecurity to pick up on anywhere. Your ex stared at his hand with disdain before begrudgingly accepting the gesture and introducing himself in return. “Hm, don’t think she’s mentioned you.”

Your lips parted in surprise, not expecting this Satoru to take his role so seriously — and then put on an award winning show right off the bat, nonetheless. Was it finally your turn to be blessed by the universe with some good karma in the shape of the most perfect stranger to deal with the situation?

Turning to take a quick glance at your ex, you had to press your lips together to choke back the cackle that threatened to escape. His expression was priceless, Satoru’s innocent little comment rolling of his tongue so effortlessly, causing a slight twitch in your ex’s eye.

“Well, I’m her-“ then he cleared his throat, struggling to finish his sentence. You weren’t surprised his title died in his throat, having never really accepted the fact that the relationship with over.

“He’s my ex,” you said, finding some courage to casually place your hand on Satoru’s chest, hoping and begging you weren’t making him uncomfortable by crossing a line.

“Aaah, your ex,” this Satoru trialed off with an awkward raise of the eyebrows before he turned to look at you again. That’s when you finally got to take a proper look at his breathtaking eyes, the whole ocean trapped in his irises. But you couldn’t let yourself fall completely mesmerised — you shook off the affect his piercing eyes seemed to have. “Sorry I’m running a little late. I stopped by the bookstore down the street to see if they had that book you recommended on our first date.” Then he served you what seemed like a genuine smile.

Stop, not the time to admire the handsome stranger!

You bashfully tilted your head forward while the sweetest chuckle traveled past your lips, also having to sell the performance. “How sweet of you to remember.”

“Of course!” He smoothly removed his arm from your shoulder to slide it along your back, moving it in comforting circles — but he never let it travel too far.

Your ex had his glare glued to Satoru’s gesture, unable to look away no matter how badly he wanted to.

“Never got around to that one,” your ex said with an awkward, forced laugh in an attempt to shift the attention back to him. He probably thought he was being charming (he always thought he was), but his little comment only gave you another reminder to why you had broken up with him — he never cared about your interests, as he couldn’t be bothered to pick up your favourite book, no matter how many times you had asked him if he could at least give it a try.

“Huh, how unfortunate.” Again, your ex couldn’t conceal the little reaction Satoru caused in his face by his incredibly taunting tone.

He cleared his throat again, and you could see how he was grasping at straws trying to redeem himself. “So, what do you have planned?” It wasn’t too obvious, but you could tell — you could tell he asked as a challenge, certain your “date” wouldn’t be able to suffice an answer that would leave him satisfied.

You opened your mouth to answer, but only managed to take a breath before Satoru had already started his lengthy explanation. “Well, first I’m taking her out for lunch, obviously,” he mused, taking a quick glance around your surroundings. “And I didn’t want to ruin the surprise, but I got us entrance tickets for the botanical garden uptown. She told me she’s been wanting to go for months.” Then he turned to look at you.

He said it with such a genuine smile painting the corner of his lips, both of you letting the eye contact linger for a second. For once you were thankful for your ex, because if it wasn’t for him drawing Satoru’s alluring eyes away, you were scared you might just have found yourself swooning a little.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” your ex chuckled in response with a nonchalant eye roll, “she might have mentioned it once or twice.”

“Hm,” Satoru huffed, sucking in his cheeks and eyeing him up and down

Pathetic was really the only word that Satoru would use to best describe the individual in front of him. He just seemed so puny, reeking of insecurity, only amplified by how he had so easily went along with the lie of a botanical garden — something Satoru had just pulled from the top of his head.

A huge, nervous lump traveled down his throat as Satoru held his gaze hostage, his dominant behaviour easily smothering any sprinkle of confidence your ex might have possessed at one point — all by just being there. And it was just so satisfying that it was finally your turn to watch your no-good ex being the one who was tormented for once.

“Well-“ his voice cracked the slightest, Satoru pursing his lips in amusement at the little slip, “I have to get going now. I’ll see you around,” stumbling over his words as his face shyly grew redder. Then he just turned on his heel and left, leaving no time for you to even say goodbye.

Satoru instantly felt your body relax at his side with a deep exhale, the hand that had shyly rested on his chest with modesty falling the second the door was shut — and once you took a step in front of him, he became hyper aware of how close to him you had been the entire time. With the sudden absence of your body next to his, he realised how perfectly you had just seemed to fit next to him. Nearly as if you had been made simply to be by his side.

And stood in front of him, he finally got the chance to take a look at you. A proper look at you, and damn, you were beautiful. Your eyes were kind, which amazed him considering the unpleasant encounter that had just taken place.

The chuckle you’d faked along with his act was still resting on your lips, but now it definitely seemed more real — warm.

“Thank you so much!” You gushed, “I am so sorry I just dragged you into that! I was panicking.”

Satoru watched intently as you spoke, unable to peer his eyes off you. His attention held on to every syllable, entirely captivated by your person, eyes roaming your face to take in every little detail there was to observe.

“Shit,” you suddenly interrupted yourself, taking a glance at your watch.

“I never caught-“

“I really wish I could stay and treat you for lunch, as thanks,” you cut him off, seemingly not even acknowledging how he had tried to speak, rummaging through your bag frantically before pulling out your wallet, “but because of him I’m running late. So, here, take this,” you chuckled lightly while stuffing his hands full of cash. “I really appreciate what you did!” Satoru was barely able to decode what you were saying as it all came tumbling out in one breath.

Continuing to spew a string of thank you’s, you quickly backed out of the cafe, his eyes following you as you jogged lightly down the street and out of sight.

Satoru was left utterly baffled, simply ogling the vacated spot you had occupied seconds ago.

Of all the times Satoru would end up tongue tied, this was the worst possible moment — he was cursing himself relentlessly for not being quick enough to demand a name, and now you were just gone, some random person he’d been lucky enough to cross paths with for a moment.

He knew he should just get on with his day — use the money you had gifted him and buy himself that sweet treat he wanted and forget about you. But he couldn’t — he wouldn't.

Had you just decided to walk into a random cafe you had just so happened to walk past that particular day?

Satoru certainly thought so. Because when he couldn’t rid you from his mind, he had gone back to that very same cafe, childlike optimism filling his body while he lingered the area, waiting for your figure to show.

It never did.

His patience quickly ran out, growing more restless every day that passed where he didn’t see you stroll down the street to return to the cafe to grab the lunch you never got to have.

He couldn’t let it rest in the hands of the universe any longer. After days of casually stalking the area, he decided to strut through the entrance of the building to simply ask.

“And how can I help you today, sir?” The sweet girl behind the counter mused, the perfect customer service smile greeting him as he leaned his entire weight in the edge of the counter.

“Hi there, remember me?”

He saw her shoulders rise slightly as she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I don’t,” yet another polite smile.

“I was in here about three weeks ago. Was with this really pretty girl-“

“Sir,” she gently interrupted him, still the same smile on her face, “we see hundred of faces every day. We have no way of remembering them all.”

His head fell back dramatically, huffing in disappointment as his fingers flexed against the marble top. “Thanks, anyway,” he mumbled quietly, shuffling over to a secluded table in the corner, sulking in his lonesome while his eyes were locked on the door, still filled with a light glimmer of hope that you would show.

It became routine — sitting in the same corner in the back, ordering the same thing while he waited for three hours everyday before he eventually had to leave, with a heavy heart, to attend to his duties.

And if the nice barista didn’t recognise him before, she definitely did now, walking over to his table and serving him his plate with a sympathetic smile. “No show today either?” The most theatrical sigh would leave his lips every time she asked the question, sad puppy dog eyes on display as he shook his head. “Sorry, buddy.”

“It’s getting a little sad, don’t you think?” Her coworker would comment once she rejoined her behind the counter, both of them keeping an eye on him with pinched eyebrows.

“I don’t know,” she breathed, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s a little romantic.”

Then they would share a look, some judgement passing between their eyes before they burst into innocent laughter, wondering how long they would get to witness his yearning before he eventually gave up his dreams of finding you again.

For days, Satoru’s head would snap towards the door every time the tiny bell rang, witnessing all sorts of people come to enjoy a little treat but not a single one of them fit your description.

Maybe this was just too hopeless? Tokyo was the most populated city in the world — bumping into the same person twice was like finding a needle in a high stack. Scratch that, it was like finding a rice grain in the great Sahara desert. But he kept praying, hoping the universe would bless him with his desire.

It was a perfectly okay day.

The temperature was nice — higher than expected for a mid-fall day — but the weather wasn’t much to brag about. For the past week it had been raining. Not pouring, but a light, constant drizzle that tapped quietly against the cafe window as Satoru stared mindlessly out at the scenery of concrete buildings and trees changing colour.

There was only a single string of hope that kept him sitting in that chair day after day, but it was destined to break soon. His head didn’t even turn towards the door anymore when that little bell rang with the familiar chime. He simply rested his chin in the palm of his hand, giving all the responsibility back to the universe.

The familiar barista came to his table, picking up the plate littered with only crumps and not one, but two, empty coffee mugs (that had been more sugar than coffee).

“Same time tomorrow?” She asked sweetly, wiping the table clean while balancing the dishes in her other hand.

He instantly wiped away his disappointment, plastering on the most convincing smile he could muster as he turned to face her. “I don’t think so.” She stared wide eyed at him, mouth parted into a shy ‘o’, a little disappointed to see him finally give up, having started to root for him a long time ago. “You’ve had exceptional service,” he beamed from ear to ear as he got up from his chair, her eyes never leaving him as he stood to tower over her.

He gave her one last tight lipped smile as he passed her. “Goodbye,” she stuttered quietly, keeping her pitying gaze on him as he headed for the exit.

The bell rang one last time, and Satoru was a little relieved he wouldn’t have to hear the obnoxiously high-pitching ding again — his relief short lasted as he crashed into a figure smaller than himself the second he was about to exit.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching- well, if it isn’t my knight in shining armour!”

What were the chances?

After all those days — waiting, staring, stuffing his face with sweets — and to think he was just about to give up. Maybe the universe had finally decided to take pity on him, wanting to reward his patience.

You looked as breathtaking as the day you had desperately latched onto his arm — maybe even better. You seemed lighter almost, as if someone had lifted off pounds from your shoulders. Same kind eyes, but a sense of peace glossing over them instead of frustration.

“It’s you,” it fell from his lips involuntary.

“In the flesh,” you chuckled. The sweet, vibrating sound faded into a clear of the throat when Satoru only continued to ogle you without a word. “Oh, sorry, you were leaving-“ you stuttered, stepping aside to let him pass. You were left confused when he didn’t walk past you, but rather kept his glare on you.

“I never got your name.”

“Sorry?” You asked, his voice too quiet to pick up on.

The same smug grin you’d seen on his face so many weeks ago greeted you, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat. “I never got your name,” more assertive now that he had increased his volume.

“Oh,” you said shyly, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. Eyeing his attractive smile, you let your name roll off your tongue before mirroring his expression of happiness.

If it was even possible, his smile stretched even further across his face, the dimples you’d noticed last time appearing on each side of his face. “Nice to finally meet you. Properly this time.”

His natural charm just steamed off him in abundance, something you had only appreciated in glimpses in your stressed haze. “You too,” you smiled.

“I haven’t seen you here since that day.”

“Well, that’s because I haven’t been here since then,” you chucked nervously, glancing towards the register when you felt some interrogating eyes on you — both of the girls behind the counter wringing their heads away from you and Satoru. “My ex has had a tendency to linger in areas we ‘bump’ into each other,” you raise your fingers to gesture the quotation marks, “but I actually think meeting you might have scared him off for good. Haven’t seen him since, so thank you again.”

“Truly my pleasure,” he straightened his posture, his height growing even more impressive. He spoke your name, and despite not really knowing you, he said it with a tenderness your ex always lacked. “I was wondering,” he took a step closer, his eyes flittering between yours, “I owe you a trip to a botanical garden, don’t you think?”

Your breath instantly hitched in your throat, heat spreading modestly across your face.

Of course the handsome stranger who had come to your rescue in a moment of genuine despair had crossed your mind from time to time since then — you had just come to terms with the fact you would never be as lucky to cross paths with the polite stranger again. And the part of you that had been plagued with embarrassment was okay with that.

But the excitement in his eyes as he waited for you to answer slowly erased the uncomfortable feeling.

“Sure, I’d like that.”

tags (taglist form) @sad-darksoul ﾉ @05-simply-06-simping ﾉ @geniejunn ﾉ @alixris ﾉ @shadava

@gdamnackerman ﾉ @sunfl0werlevi ﾉ @gojonegs ﾉ @m0nsterzl0ve

@cupidxml ﾉ @lashaemorow ﾉ @cirquedelooney ﾉ @itsinherited

@elenor222 ﾉ @mima0127 ﾉ @lem-hhn ﾉ @mechanicalmari

a/n it's finally here and i think i'm happy with it... not entirely sure. think i've seen myself blind on this fic. however, thank you so much for the reception on the little drabble that took me literally ten minutes to write, hope this lives up to your expectations <3 likes, comments and reblogs is much appreciated

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[shellshocklove]

ridin' shotgun | joel miller

pairing/AU: joel miller x female!reader – post breakout & no ellie AU

summary: as the snow covers the land, joel starts to like his new life on the farm, but is it too good to be true?

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni!!! canon-typical violence, age gap (reader is mid to late twenties), swearing, guns, vomit, use of pet names, fluff, angst, fingering, oral (f receiving), some tags are left out to avoid spoilers, no use of y/n

a/n: this is the second part to this. so i'd recommend reading that before this one. i'm very sorry this took me so long! i'm hoping it was worth the wait! <3 also a big thank you to @dustydaddyyy who's always up for helping me when i'm stuck <3 happy reading!

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3 / playlist

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.

“Morning, Joel,” Arthur greeted him as Joel entered the kitchen.

Joel felt far from rested. His eyes burned with sleep behind his eyelids. He’d love another hour or two on his pillow, but Arthur’s heavy steps coming down the stairs had woken him.

Damn, these thin walls.

“Mornin’,” Joel said as he sat down at the dining table, looking past the curtain on the portrait of the day. The world was blue with dusk, contrasting the low candlelight inside. Alma stood at the stove, butter crackling in the frying pan as she cracked an egg, then another, two suns in a greasy night sky.

“I think we’ll bring the logging sled today,” Arthur spoke up and gestured out the window, “I think the snow is more than deep enough for the sled.”

“Yeah?” Joel looked out the window again. Assessing the snow, he guessed it was about two feet give or take.

“Yeah, I think it’s gonna be enough– If not we’ll test-drive the sled, make sure it can handle the weight.” Arthur continued, but Joel lost interest as soon as he heard the sound of a door shutting down the hall.

Joel hummed, leaning back in his chair, his eyes flickering to the door of the kitchen waiting to see you walk through. A moment later, you padded into the kitchen in your pajamas, feet clad in soft wool socks. You’d thrown a sweater over your sleep shirt, but Joel remembered how the thin fabric had clung to your skin last night. Remembered the shape of your nipples poking through, the sounds you’d made as you’d whimpered his name. Joel’s cock twitched in his pants at the memory; crashing against the wave of shame and guilt that washed over him when he recalled what he’d done after he’d stepped back into his room.

“Good morning, sweetie,” Arthur greeted you as you sat down, opposite Joel.

“Good morning,” you smiled, resting your chin in the palm of your hand, tiredness like a faraway look across your face.

“Did you sleep well?” Arthur asked.

Your eyes widened at the question, quickly flickering to Joel before they found the table. Your face dug deeper into your hand as you twisted slightly in your chair. A shy smile blossomed across your face.

Huh.

A forgotten tickling feeling of pride filled Joel’s chest as he watched you. The way you avoided his gaze, like your dreams would show through your eyes if you did. But Joel didn’t need to hold your gaze to understand. Something had shifted, both for him and for you. It was different now.

A chuckle escaped Arthur at your motions, “That good, huh?” Arthur teased, “All fairytales and rainbows?”

“Something like that,” you breathed out a chuckle.

Joel cringed. He was closer to a nightmare. Why did he even entertain his thoughts of you? You were the one who was a rainbow, while he’d paint you in a dull grayscale.

Joel let out an inaudible sight, and leaned back in the creaky kitchen chair, as his hands twisted in his lap. He didn’t miss the way his movement caught your eye as he felt the drumroll of your gaze break over him. Joel didn’t dare move, scared he’d scare the warmth of your attention away. But something pulled at his chest, and he couldn’t deny himself to look at you, to drink in your early morning shyness. You didn’t look away this time, instead you smiled. It was a small and polite smile, but it still felt like a kiss to his skin. The small moment between you only lasted a second, but to Joel it felt like an eternity – one he wouldn’t mind spending with you.

You dropped your gaze when Alma placed the breadbasket on the table, and like it had broken a spell, you immediately stood to your feet, “Let me help you, Alma.”

A moment later the table was set and ready, and Arthur was already helping himself to a fried egg. Safe for the sound of cutlery against porcelain plates, a silence fell over the kitchen.

“We uh,” Arthur started, looking over at you, “We were thinking of using the logging sled today,” he informed with a dig into his eggs. “'Could use your help saddling up the horse.”

“Okay,” you nodded, reaching across the table for the butter, “but I need to milk the cows first– you know how they get if I don’t do it first thing–”

“I can do that, sweetie,” Alma interrupted you with a smile, taking a bite of her bread.

“Oh, okay,” you turned your head to Alma as you said it, giving her a smile, but Joel could see the worry behind it. “But if it’s too much I’ll be right there–”

Alma cut you off again, “I can handle it– I did this all by myself before you came along, you know.” She said it with a wink to put you at ease, but Joel saw how your teeth dug into your bottom lip, and he wanted nothing more than to ease it away with a kiss.

No. No kiss.

Shit.

After last night, Joel couldn’t think straight. He wanted you now. He wanted what he knew he couldn’t have– what he shouldn’t have. With his eyes boring down into his plate, he tried to will his wants away. Tried his best to not build memories on things not yet said – to not feel the ache of never having touched you.

The air nipped harshly at Joel’s cheeks. The sun had finally risen over the mountain, shining its light over the crystals in the snow. A thousand diamonds blinked at him as he helped Arthur pull the log sled out of the barn. It was covered in dust and dirt, and the cobwebs stuck to Joel’s mittens like cling film. Clapping his hands, a cloud of dust evaporated from his hands – almost cartoon-like.

Joel picked at the yarn, trying to cover the hole that had become wider and wider every day. He felt bad about it; you’d made them for him out of the goodness of your heart, and now he’d ruined them– or the work had. Sharp branches had hooked themselves through the stiches, and the rough bark had worn the yarn down.

As Arthur checked the sled, and got it ready, Joel felt himself drawn to the open stable door. Leaning against the barn door he watched you quietly. You worked with practiced hands, saddling the old workhorse, Ingydar, as you talked to it in a low voice.

“You’re going to work in the woods today,” you said to the beloved nag, “Work in the woods with Arthur and Joel. Do you remember Joel? He’s a nice man, isn’t he?”

Joel felt his cheeks warm at your words, his eyes falling to the worn wood floor, as he continued to listen to your little conversation.

“Yes, he is! He’s very nice– fed you too many carrots last time he said hello, didn’t he? But you liked that, didn’t you?”

Joel looked up at that, his eyes locking with yours’ as you looked straight at him, a teasing smirk covering your face.

“That ain’t how I remember it,” Joel defended, stepping closer to the open stall door. You tightened the straps on the saddle while your smile grew larger at his words.

“No?” You teased, moving on to checking the straps on the bridle.

Joel stepped closer, his mitten clad hand coming up to pet the old horse. “No,” Joel shook his head, “you kept handin’ me all those carrots ‘s how I remember it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you laughed, stepping closer.

“Sure, you don’t,” Joel teased, a rare smile tugging at his lips, matching your own.

Locking eyes with you again, Joel felt something light bubble under the surface of his ribcage. You really were beautiful like this – eyes sparkling and smile wide. He couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at him the way you were right now – like he hadn’t lost everything, like he didn’t have blood all over his hands, like he was worthy of a smile.

Stepping even closer, you noticed the holes in them. “Joel, your mittens.”

“Sorry…” he started, trailing off when you grabbed his hands, “They get hooked in the branches ‘nd–”

“Don’t apologize,” you cut him off, with a shake of your head, “I can fix them– it’s no problem.”

The sun shone through a small window in the back wall of the stall. Bright white light lit up the back of your head, crowning you in the morning. You stood so close now, the warmth of your finger brushing over his rough skin through the hole, and his hands suddenly felt heavy in yours.

A burden you shouldn’t bear.

“Uh…” Joel cleared his throat as he stepped away, pulling his hands from yours, “Thank you.”

Finishing up saddling the horse you led it out the stall door, the iron shoes click-clacked against the worn wood floor before it fell silent against the snow when you led the horse outside. With a nod in the direction of the house you told him to wait inside for you.

“Would ya let Arthur know he can go right ahead with the sled?” he asked you, his body half-turned towards the barn house.

You let out a breathy laugh, a frosty cloud of smoke clouding your smile before you nodded.

Inside, he waited for you on the couch, watching you wave Arthur off on the horse through the window. Joel’s heart picked up its beat when he heard your hollow steps across the porch. He shifted slightly in his seat when you walked in, almost standing but then decided against it in the same moment, rubbing his hands over his thighs instead.

Stomping off the snow covering your shoes you smiled at him like always, and Joel didn’t know what to do. A feeling starting to bubble under the surface of his skin. Excitement? Nervousness? Dread? Joel couldn’t tell. Maybe he felt all three at once– if that was possible. Excitement at the prospect of being alone with you, but also nervousness at the prospect of being alone with you. They gathered around his heart, filled his chest, but the dread, it climbed up his spine, bit its cold teeth in the back of his neck.

“Just let me grab my things,” you hurried with a gesture towards your room.

Joel cleared his throat and nodded. It felt clumsy and awkward, and he cursed himself for it while he waited for you. He couldn’t be alone with you. Couldn’t entertain the growing feelings. It wasn’t right – to you – Joel needed to stay away, to keep a friendly distance.

Joel sighed and closed his eyes.

Nothin’s happenin’. 

Like a broken record, those two words spun in Joel’s head in the few seconds it took before you were back in the living room, dropping down next to him with your basket overflowing with yarn.

It felt like déjà vu.

You worked in a comfortable silence, and Joel didn’t know if he should say anything. He watched how you worked your needle with a practiced hand – you made it look so easy – but Joel knew it wasn’t. A lifetime ago he’d spent way too many nights with a needle in his hand trying to mend a hole over the knee of tiny pink pants, his stubby fingers gripping the needle tightly, guiding it clumsily through the fabric until he was red in the face from frustration.

He needed to thank you, but should he say it now or wait until you’d finished? The longer he watched you, the stronger that bubbling feeling felt, bubbling over, up his throat and over the bite of dread.

“There!” you smiled when you’d fastened off the last stich. You grabbed a hold of his hands before he’d had time to think and pulled the mittens over his knuckles.

“Thank you,” he said, voice scruff but tone still shyer than he’d expected.

You smiled at him again and leaned a little closer to readjust the mittens, tugging at the yarn where you’d mended them, pulling them into the right shape.

“You’re welcome, Joel.” You locked eyes with him and suddenly Joel noticed how close you sat. It made him hold his breath as his heart started hammering against his chest.

His gaze flickered towards your lips for half a second, wishing for something he couldn’t have– shouldn’t have. He caught himself quickly, finding your eyes again but they were fixated on something else, his lips. Who leaned in first, Joel would never know, the only thing he knew was the feel of your breath against his lips before they brushed over yours in a soft kiss.

Warm. Joel felt so warm.

His hands worked by their own volition; mitten clad, and soft against your cheek, pulling you closer to him, but not close enough. Your hand grabbed at his jacket in the crook of his elbow, tethering yourself to him, to the moment, like you’d float away if you didn’t. You hummed against his lips, a desperate sound as you shifted closer.

The sound messed with Joel’s head, he wanted to hear more of it, pull it from you again. His tongue teased at the seam of your lips, a distant thought at the back of his head questioning where his boldness suddenly came from, but he ignored it.

It didn’t matter.

The sound escaped you once more and you opened yourself up to him. Joel’s other hand, moving with desperate urgency, found your hip – pulling you even closer. He licked into your mouth, and he fell deeper into you, deeper into the grip you’d snaked around his heart.

A loud slam of the kitchen door pulled Joel away, and the reality of what he’d done trickled coldly down his spine. Out in the kitchen Alma rummaged around while you looked at him with bright eyes, pupils slightly dilated with a hazy smile across your lips.

Joel felt awful.

He shouldn’t have done that.

He’d taken advantage of you. He’s too old for you – none of this was right.

You noticed the change in him, you must’ve, because your eyebrows pulled together in the smallest of frowns as you regarded him.

“Joel,” you started, your voice low and soft, but he just shook his head.

“I’m sorry!” Joel quickly stood to his feet, wiping his hands on his jeans as though that would somehow erase what he’d done. “We– I shouldn’t have done that– I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” you tried to grab at his hand, but Joel only shook his head again.

“I’m sorry.”

Joel was out the door before he could regret it, lord knows he couldn’t take anymore regret. His life had been full of them, full of ‘I shouldn’t haves’. He dug his mitten-clad hands in the pockets of his jacket, his head hanging low as he headed down the road towards the forest.

A heavy blanket of clouds had shaded the morning sun, the world darkened in the beginnings of real winter. As a snowflake kissed his cheek, his thoughts wandered to the butterfly he’d seen all those weeks ago. How it had rested over his knee– made him think of Sarah.

You’re on the right path.

Joel had never felt this lost.

The kiss.

It took up most of Joel’s mind. When he worked himself hard with an axe in his hand, when he was counting sheep, but most of all, each time he saw you. Then his thoughts had a mind of its own, reminding him of how your lips had felt against his own, the feel of your body under his touch, and the sounds you’d made just for him. The kiss had been the first kiss who’d made him want another. The first kiss where he’d pulled away and not been satisfied. He needed to kiss you again, to feed this new hunger for you.

But it wasn’t right. An old man like him with someone like you. It wasn’t a good idea– would never be a good idea.

So, Joel tried his best to avoid you, but avoiding you was impossible – you lived in the same house, shared a bedroom wall. He saw you every day whether he liked it or not – and he did.

He liked you, and it scared the shit out of him.

He felt like he lived in a cruel state of limbo. He didn’t know what you were thinking. If you were mad (you had every right), if you were disappointed (he hoped you weren’t), or happy (maybe the most devastating thought of all).

The fire crackled loudly, sparks kicking, the sound making you look up from your book. Joel’s eyes found his own book, rereading the same paragraph he’d been trying to read for the last thirty minutes– ever since Arthur and Alma had retired to bed. This was the first time he’d been alone with you since the kiss, and he felt it all over his body. The aftermath of the kiss sticking to his body like the Austin heat had done in the peak of summer – he couldn’t shake it off, couldn’t ignore it.

“When was the last time you cut your hair?” you suddenly spoke across the silence.

Your question was unexpected, and it made him pull his brows together in a frown. “You sayin’ I look bad?” Joel asked, dogearing the page he was on before closing his book.

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head, “No-no, I mean it’s just a little long.”

Joel looked at you for a second before he ran a hand through his hair. Well, it wasn’t like you weren’t right. Lately his hair had started to get in his eyes, even when he pushed it back. Most days when he was working outside, he could tame it under the knitted beanie you’d made him, but it had started to have a life of its own.

“Boston. I think, Tes–” he cut himself off before he said her name, clearing his throat awkwardly to cover his slip up. He’d forgotten, forgotten for a second that she was dead. Forgotten she’d died for him and his stupid quest to find his brother. Died for nothing.

“I can trim it for you… if you want?” you asked with a bite of your lip.

He couldn’t say no to you.

“Uh… yeah,” he nodded, “Okay.”

As you led him up the stairs to the bathroom, Joel tried not to think too hard about what it would mean – you cutting his hair. He tried not to think about how the last person who’d done something like that for him was Tess, and what it meant that she was gone– that it now would be you.

Your fingers running through his wet hair felt good– what didn’t feel good was the way his back almost gave out from leaning his head in the bathroom sink. The basin was too small, and the tap hung too low for him to comfortably turn his head, instead the water spilled down his face.

Why the hell was he drowning himself for you?

“Done soon?” he grunted, his hands gripping the sides of the sink while he felt your fingers scrub at his roots.

Yes, Joel was uncomfortable, but the way you stood so close – practically leaning on him – it felt nice. So nice that Joel thought that if his eyes weren’t already shut, they’d flutter shut at your touch.

Soap suds ran down the sides of his face as you giggled, “Just a little longer.”

You maneuvered his head back under the tap, your right hand running through his hair under the water while the left covered his eyes in a useless attempt. Then you grabbed the towel resting next to him on the porcelain, the world suddenly silenced through fabric as you dried his now clean hair.

“You can stand now,” you told him with a small tap to his back as you stepped away. You’d laid the towel around his shoulders, ready to catch any excess water.

Joel groaned, “I don’t think I can.”

You giggled again and then your hands wrapped around him, helping him up. Joel groaned again, but this time for show. He liked the way you touched him, gentle – always gentle. He plopped down in the chair you’d brought in from the spare bedroom, while you got your comb and scissors ready. The wooden chair creaked as he shifted his legs, widening them while he rested his hands in his lap.

He’d never seen this chair before, but then again Joel hadn’t explored the house much – it didn’t feel right. He was a guest after all, only staying for a few months– or was he? His eyes found you in the mirror, and then that thought suddenly felt awfully wrong.

“Ready?” you turned around to him, a pair of kitchen scissors in one hand, and an old shaver plugged into the wall in the other.

You didn’t say much as you worked. It was uncharacteristic for a hairdresser, at least from what he could remember. Back before the outbreak he’d rarely gotten his hair cut by someone other than himself. With his clipper guard set to four he’d tidy up the sides when it was needed and called it a day.

Your quietness was also uncharacteristic to you. You never talked his ear off, but you were never this quiet – at least you weren’t before the–

Stop.

Joel tried not to think about that.

He’d gone and fucked everything up now. Instead, he stole a glance at you in the mirror, watched the way your lips pursed in concentration to the metal sound of scissors snipping, and the low buzz of the shaver.

He needed to apologize to you.

“I…” he started, watching your head snap curiously to watch him in the mirror.

No turning back now– just say it.

“I’m sorry ‘bout the other day– It wasn’t right to kiss you like that.”

Your curiosity pulled into confusion across your face, and your eyebrows tugged together in a frown.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Joel,” you told him, your voice gentle, “I didn’t exactly–... well I definitely wasn’t stopping you.” You said it with an awkward laugh. Your kind, always kind, eyes that’d watched him in the mirror, now glued to the back of his head as you gently combed his hair.

Joel felt something bloom in his chest at your words, and despite himself, he felt his cheeks warm slightly as thoughts invaded his mind. 

Maybe he should tell you why he did it. 

Shit, did Joel even know why he did it? 

“I thought you–” Joel felt the words stall in his throat for a second, before he cleared it decisively. 

No going back now, he thought to himself, just rip off the band aid you idiot.

Another part of Joel screamed at him to stop the words before they even left his lips, and his doubts gnawed at his insides with more intensity than ever.

“The other night, when you were asleep,” he paused to swallow, a lump growing in his throat, “I was getting to bed and I heard–... well, y’were sort of having a dream, sweetheart.”

With nervous eyes, Joel found your face in the mirror, and watched the way the smiling expression dropped off your face, quickly replaced by a wide-eyed look of pure mortification. 

“I–” you stuttered out, and Joel rushed to correct himself. 

“It’s nothin’ to be embarrassed about, I shouldn’t a been watchin’ you, I just–... thought maybe y’liked me, or something.” 

His words hung heavy in the air between you, and Joel’s heart picked up its beat as he watched how all your movements suddenly went quiet, along with the shaver, seemingly processing all this new information.

Your eyes found the back of his head again, and when he felt the comb run through his hair again, Joel suddenly felt very guilty for even bringing it up. 

Stupid. Why on earth would he do that? Was he trying to send you into an early grave? 

“I’m sorry you walked in on that,” you finally managed, your eyes fixated on your working hands as you refused to meet Joel’s eye – looking infinitely embarrassed.

You’re sorry? He didn’t want to hear those words leave your mouth ever again – the only person in this bathroom who was sorry, was him.

In the mirror you looked so small, and it was his own doing. Your teeth dug harshly into your bottom lip as your combed, and combed, and combed his hair in a shaky hand. Joel felt his heart break.

He’d dug himself too deep now, Joel thought, he had to tell you, to reassure you it was okay.

After a beat of silence, Joel spoke again.

“I’m not.” 

Your eyes widened at his words before they snapped to the mirror, staring at him as the shears trembled slightly in your hand. Still, you didn’t say anything.

Joel didn’t have the faintest idea where he was going with this, and with the way you looked at him now, his doubts seemed to overtake him as he got the sudden urge to swallow his words right back up. 

“Look, forget I even said anything angel, I didn’t mean anythin’ by it–” 

The word slipped from his lips like the most natural thing in the world. Something flashed in your eyes through the mirror, he could’ve sworn it, and Joel seemed to realize a beat too late what he’d called you. Feeling his cheeks heat up, his embarrassment forced his gaze to fall anywhere but at you, quicklyfinding his hands knotted in his lap.

“Joel,” you said softly, and despite himself, Joel felt the earlier warmth expanding like a balloon in his chest, “It’s okay.” 

He perked up at your words, his eyes snapping from his hands to you as you moved, coming to stand in front of him. Your hands deftly moved the comb through his curls as he looked up at you through the strands. You seemed focused on cutting the ends, before you let out a breath. 

“It would’ve been okay if you had been watching, you know,” you said, your voice simple and even.

Joel felt his entire body tense at your words as his eyes bored into your face. He watched the way your face grimaced slightly; your eyes focused on snipping the strands right.

“I just mean I–” There was a pause as you gave him a half-embarrassed smile, your lips pursed together as you seemed to search for your next words. 

You were standing so close, so close he could smell the sweetness off you. You made him dizzy. Dizzy with warmth. Dizzy with proximity. Dizzy with something heavy in the depths of his chest he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Joel didn’t know why he did it, didn’t know why the way his hands moved felt like second nature, but when the tips of his fingers grazed the back of your knee in an attempt to reassure you, it felt like something was calling to him.

“It’s okay,” he told you, “You can tell me, angel.” 

Finally, your eyes met Joel’s. Those kind sparkling eyes bored into his own as you, in an attempt to gather some courage, swallowed hard.

“I–I do like you,” you said.

The finality of your words lodged something loose in Joel, and something he hadn’t felt in a long time flicker to life in his chest.

“That so?” he asked, his voice a little lower.

Somehow, you were stood even closer, only slightly taller than Joel as he angled his head up towards you. Your chest started to rise and fall in a quicker rhythm at his question. Looking at him, your lips twitched in a nervous smile as you turned slightly away from his, placing the comb and scissors on the sink gently.

You nodded.

Still turned away from him, he watched how you gathered yourself, your hands resting on the porcelain as your head hung low between your shoulder blades.

“When you…” you trailed off, moving the comb and scissors in a perfect parallel line next to each other. “When you,” you repeated, “kissed me… I thought maybe… you liked me back.”

It was now or never.

Joel knew it.

Standing from his chair, Joel’s hand found your shoulder, turning you to face him. You didn’t look at him right away, your head tipped in a bow as you fiddled with your fingers.

“Hey,” his fingers brushed lightly under your chin, tilting your head up. Your eyes were wide, flickering like sunlight over wavy water as you studied his face. His eyes fell to your lips – he couldn’t help it, and the memories of how they’d felt against him resurfaced in his mind. If he just leaned a little closer, he’d feel them again.

“Joel… if you don’t want me– if you don’t like me, you can just tell me– I’m a big girl.” Your voice sounded almost breathless, like you’d run up a flight of stairs or walked miles in knee deep snow.

Joel shook his head before you’d even finished your sentence. Don’t want you? Don’t like you? It was absurd.

“It ain’t that.”

“Then what is it?” The way the words left your lips, broken, beaten, it had Joel’s heart tear apart in his chest.

“It ain’t right, angel. I’m too old f’you– I can’t take advantage of you like that.”

A frown pulled at your face then, “Take advantage?” you questioned with a shake of your head. “I’m a grown woman, Joel. Would it be taking advantage if it was what I wanted? If what I wanted was… you?”

Joel had never thought about it like that before. The thought of you wanting him back had seemed like a fantasy – something that would never even be a possibility.

Your fingers moved a strand of hair out of his face, brushing it away, and Joel held his breath. Hesitating for just a second, you cupped his cheek gently and leaned closer. The softness of your lips over his own had Joel reeling – didn’t matter how quick or chaste the kiss had been – it only left him wanting more.

“I look stupid.”

“You don’t look stupid, Joel,” you laughed, full of joy.

You adjusted the bandana holder and fixed the crooked kerchief around his neck slightly. The red fabric picked up the warmth in his lined leather jacket, and the metal holder caught the shine of the sun.

Joel couldn’t believe he’d said yes.

This morning when he’d gotten up with the sun, Alma had stuck her head out of her and Arthur’s bedroom right as he was on his way out the bathroom. Arthur wasn’t feeling well, and Joel had prepared himself to work in the woods alone. It wasn’t the first time Arthur had gotten sick, and with the way he was looking lately, Joel figured it wouldn’t be the last.

He'd been washing his dishes from his breakfast when you’d padded into the kitchen. With a look over his shoulder, he’d caught the way you’d smiled at him before you padded over to him.

“Good morning,” you’d said and wrapped your arms around him from behind.

“Mornin’, angel,” he’d hummed back. He’d dried his plate and placed it on the counter before he’d turned around, still in your embrace.

Joel wasn’t used to it yet, your affection, he still had a hard time comprehending it was meant for him. That it wasn’t some joke you’d so cruelly played on him. A joke to see how long you could feed him this adoration until he’d get hooked on it, hooked on you, before pulling away.

Joel didn’t dare hold you too tightly. Everyone he’s ever held in his arms had been pulled away by death’s hands. Every day since you’d told him you liked him, wanted him, Joel had been afraid to lose you.

Maybe that’s why he’d said yes? You’d convinced him it’ll be safer for you if you knew how to shoot.

Joel didn’t know.

The only thing he knew was that he’d caved under your wide and blinking eyes. You’d looked too cute to say no, and he disliked seeing a frown upon your lips, unless he could kiss it away.

Which he did – but only when you were alone.

You’d both agreed to keep this thing, the fondness, the love, growing between you a secret. It was easier that way, at least until you both knew what it all meant. Right now, it was a thing, a fondness, but not yet a love, although Joel wasn’t far off if he were being honest with himself, especially when you looked at him with those moony eyes.

With a pat to his chest, you pushed off him with a smile. In a closet upstairs you’d found you both a cowboy hat and some bandanas you’d insisted on him wearing. The whole thing was silly, but the way you’d lit up with happiness when you’d placed the cowboy hat on his head, it didn’t matter to Joel.

“C'mon cowboy,” you laughed, and grabbed his hand.

He let you drag him with you before he caught up with you. He pulled at your arm so you crashed into his side, and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. It made you giggle, and the sound bubbled around Joel’s heart.

Ingydar stood waiting dutifully in his stall, where you’d gotten him ready. The saddle bags were packed with your lunches and a box of ammunition, and at the back of the saddle you’d rolled two sheep skins and tied them with leather ties. Everything was ready for your day out together.

Or your date, Joel thought as he trailed after you, closing the stable door behind him as you led the horse outside.

Joel insisted you get on the horse first with his help. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable and sat as safely as possible before he slid his foot into the stirrups. You wiggled around to mess with him, and Joel grabbed your knee to steady you. It made you giggle again, and he earned himself a ‘Relax, honey’. Then you leaned back and made space for him to get in front of you.

Joel liked the sound of ‘honey’.

“Y’alright back there?” Joel said over his shoulder after he’d gotten on the horse. Placing the shotgun over his lap, Joel made sure the safety was on before his hands came down to take yours where they rested over your thighs, and gently guided them to slot around his waist.

“Y’actually gotta hang on sweetheart, or you’ll slide right off the minute he starts trotting,” Joel said, fighting back a smile when he felt your arms tighten around him.

“I know how to ride a horse,” you retorted, and his chest shook with a slight chuckle. 

“Not saying you don’t, angel,” he replied easily, and kicked Ingydar lightly in the sides.

The old horse started walking, and Joel pulled on the reins, steering it down the road and then south towards the woods.

“’Just makin’ sure you ain’t gonna fall off ‘s all,” he said.

You hummed in return, leaning your body against his back. “It’ll have to be a really bumpy ride for me to fall off, Joel,” you spoke, the innuendo not lost on Joel.

He decided to pull at the thread a little, “And I s’pose you’ve had a lot of these bumpy rides, have you, angel?”

Your hands around his waist tightened slightly as he felt you lean over his shoulder, your hat dumping into his. A smile tugged at his lips, and in his side vision he could see you narrow your eyes playfully at him. 

“What are you insinuating, Joel Miller?” you asked him, your tone only half-sharp.

A chuckle rumbled in Joel’s chest, before he bit back a smirk. “I’m not insinuatin’ nothin’,” he replied, keeping his tone as normal as he could.

He felt your eyes study him for a moment before he heard you let out a dissatisfied hum. “You definitely are.” 

“Well, we got an entire horse ride to god knows where to debate it,” he shot back, which made you smile.

You leaned back again, and a second later he felt you rest your forehead against his back. Joel figured you must’ve flicked your hat off; letting it rest against your back tied by the string around your neck.

“An entire horse ride to god knows where?” you repeated half-mockingly, speaking into his back but Joel could hear your smile in your voice, “You really know how to make a girl wait for it.”  

“You have no idea, angel,” Joel replied, an otherwise joking tone overshadowed by something else, something more honest.

Behind him, Joel felt you shift, and a small spark of pride filled his chest. He had an effect on you, the same way you had an effect on him. Quickly, you changed the subject, and that spark of pride grew larger in Joel’s chest.

“Did you have a plan, by the way?” you asked him, your voice light and innocent, “Or are we just riding this horse off into the sunset?” 

“It’s the middle of the day,” Joel pointed out, “And you’re the one who put me in a bandana, so don’t even bother tellin’ me you ain’t the one with the plan.” 

You let out a giggle at this and pressed your face into his back once more. “Just keep going straight for now, you bore, I’ll tell you when.” 

Joel chuckled at you, and did as you said, guiding the horse south at the edge of the forest where the snow wasn’t as deep. He felt you tighten your hands slightly around his waist, before you fell into a comfortable silence.  

The horse held a steady pace, rocking you in a soothing rhythm in the saddle. The day was bright and sunny, almost blinding against the snow. Joel had never gone down this way before, never seen the stone face of the mountain up close, the way it cried glittery winter tears when the sun shone.

“There’s a river down here somewhere,” you suddenly spoke, breaking the silence that had built between you. “There’s a nice little spot down there where we can camp.”

Joel pulled at the reins, following in the direction you’d pointed. “You’ve been down this way before?” he asked.

“Maybe once or twice a year,” you started, “There’s this town, Jackson, maybe a week’s ride south. I’m not exactly supposed to talk about it– they run a pretty tight ship, coming off a little more threatening than they are, but they’re sort of like a commune. Arthur has this deal with one of the ladies, Maria, where we help each other out by trading.”

A frown pulled at Joel’s face, “I thought y’all were all alone out here?” 

“Well, we are, but not really. It’s because of them we still have running water and electricity– we’re connected to the same system they use. And then usually in the fall or in the spring Arthur will go trade with them for things we need like soap, or nails and stuff we can’t make on our own at the farm.”

Joel hummed, and the puzzle pieces of information you’d given him, started to fit into the bigger picture he’d painted of your life at the farm. He could understand why Alma and Arthur still resided at the farm. It was their home, the place where they’d lived their whole life, but for you, for you it was different.

“So… you know ‘em? You’ve gone with Arthur to meet this Maria?” he asked.

“A little, I guess. She’s uh…” you trailed off, resting your cheek against Joel’s back instead.

The river finally came into view, and Joel let you have the silence. He guided Ingydar down towards the riverbank. A wound cut the ice in two where the river poured backwards eternally. The water clucked under the ice as you rode along the edge; was it wishful thinking to think it sounded like the coming of spring?

“She?” Joel prodded gently.

Joel heard you sight before you sat up, no longer leaning your weight on him. “She invited me to come live with them… in Jackson.”

Joel frowned, “’nd you told her no?”

“Well… yes– I just, I can’t leave them alone.”

“Sweetheart–” Joel started, but you cut him off.

“Let’s stop here!”

You didn’t say anything as Joel watched you loosen the saddle bags and sheep skins, while he petted the old horse. He found himself wondering how you’d ended up on the farm, and if you could’ve been happier somewhere else– like Jackson.

He tied Ingydar to a tree, before he waded back to where you were trampling the snow flat. He helped you form a bench out of the snow, cutting through the layers until you found a hard enough crust to hold both your weights. The sheepskin warmed under him, as he sat down with a groan. It made you turn around from where you sat on your haunches in front of the fire you were building, a teasing smile pulling at the corner of your mouth.

“Tired already, old man?” you teased as you stood to your feet and walked closer.

Spreading his legs, Joel made room for you to stand between them, as he tipped his head back to study you above him. Your smile was dangerous, wild and wonderful.

“Old man, huh?” He raised an eyebrow at you, not able to resist the urge to wrap his hand around the back of your knee.

Your teeth caught on your bottom lip at his touch, and a pride swelled inside Joel. Pride at pulling a reaction from you. Before you could answer him, a boldness took a hold of him, and he wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you down into his lap.

You yelped out a giggle and your hands came down to brace yourself against his shoulder. Joel felt a feeling overcome him; one he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Happiness.

It tickled at his heart, teared at something inside, and it scared him.

“You okay?” you asked, your voice coated in concern, and Joel felt his cheeks heat up. He let out a dry chuckle, embarrassed by how easily you could read him.

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, “I just…” he trailed off, studying your face and watching how your eyebrows pulled together in the smallest of frowns.

He shook his head again, before he leaned forward, not thinking it through as he brushed his lips over yours in a kiss. You reciprocated the kiss immediately, although maybe a little caught off guard. Joel’s arm around your waist tightened, as his other hand brushed up your side. He needed to hold you close for just a second, just to know this was real, that this feeling was real, and that you were real.

You broke away first, breathless with a giggle before you dove down again for another peck. Joel let you kiss him; let you cup his cheek and bring him closer. You shifted in his lap, your core rubbing slightly over his crotch. It could’ve been an accident, but the small gasp you let out told him it wasn’t. His arm around your waist tightened, and he had to pull away.

Wide eyes looked back at him, and Joel couldn’t help but stare at your lips. He felt like a teenager, a teenager sneaking out the house to meet a girl. To finally be with you without the secrecy – to touch you and kiss you openly.

“You’re somethin’ else, aren’t you?” he whispered.

A smile teased at your lips before you leaned in closer, your breath brushing over his ear, “You have no idea.”

Blood coursed south, and Joel felt his cock come alive behind the confinements of his jeans. It was cold enough for a man to freeze his balls off, but desire’s warmth filled him anyway.

He pulled his head away, finding your eyes blown full of lust. A smile teased at the corner of his mouth as he spoke, “Let’me teach ya to shoot before you get too excited.”

“Before I get too excited?” you laughed, and sat up properly in his lap again, “I think that might be you, old man.”

Teaching you to shoot was less of a success than Joel had intended. He’d found a couple of old glass bottles in the barn to use as target practice, but your aim was terrible, missing each shot. To your credit, it wasn’t your fault. He’d taught you how to load the gun, how to stand safely, and with his hand snaking around your body, how to hold it properly.

He could swear his intentions were good at first, he actually wanted to teach you, to make sure you knew how to shoot, and safely, but when he saw how your body shivered from his voice in your ear – he decided to play with you a little.

Maybe he whispered a couple of innuendos in your ear while he dropped his voice an octave just to see your reaction. Or maybe he pressed himself a little closer to your body, showing you how it was done like in those cliché romcoms he’d been forced to watch with Sarah.

It didn’t take long before the empty bottles, or the shot gun was forgotten, as you pressed your lips against his in a desperate kiss, your cold nose rubbing against his own.

But Joel didn’t have it in him to complain.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound at the door jolted Joel from his sleep. He’d almost been dragged under, laying in that limbo state between awake and asleep– not yet in dreamland, but not still among the living.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Joel sat up, letting the duvet fall into his lap and exposing his chest as the streak of yellow light coming through the ajar door cut his bedroom in two. Joel had to squint to see you properly in the doorway as he shed the last grip of sleep.

“Angel?” he questioned, as a tight grip of fear ran through him. He sat up properly now, ready to jump out of bed, his hands already searching for his shotgun resting at the foot of the bed.

With his eyes now fully adjusted to the dark, he watched how you quietly stepped inside his bedroom, closing the door as gently as you could – and the panic seemed to seize just a little. You padded to the edge of his bed, still so quiet, with your hands clasped nervously over where the hem of your sleep shirt met the bare of your thighs.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you whispered.

Joel shifted over slightly and lifted the duvet for you to slip under. An open invitation– one you were quick to accept.

“D’you have a nightmare?” Joel whispered, the wolf hour keeping his voice down.  

You shifted closer to him, your head rested on his pillow, and Joel couldn’t help himself from touching your waist gently – his fingers dancing over the soft cotton of your shirt.

“No,” you whispered back, “just couldn’t sleep.”

Joel hummed and shifted over onto his back, extending his arm for you to shift closer. It felt natural now – touching you. You felt like his, and he felt like yours. He didn’t know where it was going, but he was starting to enjoy the road to you. To get to know you more, what made you laugh, your quirks, and the way your body felt under his hands.

The weight of your head on his chest, Joel welcomed; his other hand quick to intertwine with the one you’d slung over his middle. He just wanted you close now, every chance he got.

“’Just try ‘nd get some sleep, my angel.” Joel pressed a kiss to the top of your head before he pulled back and closed his eyes. With you in his arms now, he knew he’d have no trouble falling back asleep.

“I–” you whispered.

Joel hummed; his eyes still closed.

“I kept thinking about you.”

Curiously Joel opened his eyes to find yours. You had tilted your head to look at him, you mouth slightly parted as you studied him with moony eyes. The way you looked at him stirred something inside him, a warmth pooling in the depth of his core.

“Yeah?” he questioned with a slight cock of his eyebrow, “’bout what?”

Then you got shy all of a sudden, hiding your head in his chest. “Thought about how you touched me,” you whispered.

“Touched ya how?” he prodded, gliding his hand up your arm slowly.

He knew it was wrong to play with you like this. Everything was still new, each touch unexplored and seeking. He couldn’t fuck you, even if he wanted to, and he did, badly, but Joel couldn’t risk it. Not in this world, not at this farm, it wasn’t fair to you.

Over him you held your breath as he teased your skin, eyes fluttering shut as his hand moved down the side of your body, and under the duvet.

“Like… like how you touched me in my dream,” you exhaled in a breathless voice.

Now Joel sucked in a breath, holding it in his lungs as he tried to calm himself down. He had an idea on how he’d touched you in your dream, but he couldn’t hold himself back from asking anyway.

“’nd where did I touch ya in your dream, angel.”

You squirmed against his body when his hand reached your bare thigh under the duvet, and soon your fingers locked around his wrist to guide it up over the soft skin of the inside of your thigh.

“Here,” you whispered.

A small gasp escaped you when he brushed his thumb gently over your clothed clit. Joel felt the wet warmth of you against the pad of his finger, making his cock twitch to life in his pajama pants.

“Here?” Joel whispered back, as his thumb started rubbing small circles over your clit.

“Y-yes.”

The noise you made, the noise he pulled from you from his small touch, sounded like the sweetest melody in Joel’s ear, and he wanted to hear it again. He ran his fingers through your cloth covered folds, and felt the wetness already seeped through.

Fuck.

“My angel… You’re so wet already,” he tutted, “Were you touchin’ yourself thinkin’ ‘bout me in that bed of yours?” he hummed in your ear.

A shiver ran through your body when his fingers found your clit again. Slowly, he started circling his fingers again, and the quiet moan that escaped you filled his chest with desire.

“Yes,” you breathed out, almost a whimper.

His teeth caught on his bottom lip, biting down to stave off the groan he wanted to let out at your words. He needed more of you, to feel the softness of you, to pull more of those breathy whimpers from your breath.

“Tell me, angel.”

In a bold move, Joel dipped his fingers into your panties, gliding two thick fingers through the seam of your folds, dipping into your arousal soiling your panties. His touch made you suck in a quick breath, as your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. A proud grin spread across Joel’s face. It had been a while since he’d been with a woman, even longer since he’d been with a woman he felt something for.

He’d felt something for Tess, but that had been so complicated – it didn’t work right, they didn’t work right together as more than friends, like the puzzle pieces didn’t quite fit together. But the sex had been good, something to make them both forget for a little while.

Everything with you worked almost too easily, and Joel wanted to make you feel good, you deserved it, he thought.

“I-I,” you said breathlessly, as he worked his fingers slowly up and down from your hole to your clit, “I thought about your f-fingers.”

“Yeah, baby? Where?” He whispered in your ear before placing a kiss to the column of your neck. Joel was playing with you now, seeing how desperate he could get you before he tasted you.

“I-inside… I thought about your fingers inside me.”

Joel smiled into your neck. This felt as good a time as any to slip a finger inside you, so he did, slowly. You keened under his touch, and the sound of the small gasp you let out made Joel’s cock even harder.

“Like this baby?” he teased, pumping his finger slowly in and out of your wet warmth. He felt your hand wrap around his wrist, holding his arm, almost guiding him in his movements. He curled his finger inside you, trying to find that spongy spot inside that made you see stars.

“Y-yes, Joel–ah!”

There it was.

He liked the sound of his name falling from your lips like this, and he intended to hear it again. He couldn’t help but think about the way your cunt would squeeze around his cock, how tight you’d feel around him, as he continued to massage the spot with the pad of his finger.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” he cooed, and placed a kiss to your cheek.

“Uh-uh,” you nodded, your eyebrows pulling together in a frown of pleasure, “Uh-uh.”

He felt your walls flutter around him, and Joel knew he had you just where he wanted you. Quickly, he pulled out his finger before slipping in a second. Your wetness dripped down his hand, coating him in your arousal with every pump of his fingers inside you.

Your breathing picked up, and small moans escaped you in time with the thrusting of his fingers. Joel had to contain himself from rubbing his bulge against your thigh, chasing any kind of relief.

This wasn’t about him, he told himself, he only wanted to make you feel good.

He knew you were close now, with just a flick of his thumb over your clit he’d have you coming on his hand – but Joel didn’t want it to be over yet. He needed to taste you, he’d thought about it as he’d jerked himself of, fantasized about how you’d taste on his tongue.

Suddenly, Joel pulled his finger out of your cunt. A strangled noise of, what Joel could only describe as disappointment, escaped your lips. It made Joel chuckle.

“Joel,” you whined, and squeezed your fingers around his wrist.

He didn’t answer, instead he sat up, a teasing smile coating his face as he shifted down the bed and pulled the duvet with him.

“Calm down, angel, be good f’me, okay?”

His hand wrapped around your calf to spread you apart for him, and he slotted between your legs. He placed a gentle kiss to your knee and let his eyes find yours where they looked back at him wide with anticipation.

“Are you gonna be good f’me?” he asked as he gave you another soft kiss, but this time to the inside of your thigh.

A breath escaped you in staccato, and you nodded, “Y-yes, Joel.”

“Good girl,” he rumbled, placing fluttering kisses up your thigh until he reached your core.

Joel didn’t want to waste any more time.

He stripped you out of your panties, and threw them to the side to get lost in the bedding. Finally, he got a good look at you, and fuck you were beautiful. Your cunt glistened with your wetness in the low white light of the moon coming through the window. Your hole pulsed when his thumb found your clit, where he pulling the hood back slightly as he teased you.

“Please,” you pleaded, your hand wrapping around his shoulder; searching for something to hold on to.

“It’s okay, angel,” he comforted you, as his finger spread your lips apart, and put you on display for him before he pinched them together. Under him you let out the smallest of whimpers as he played with you.

“I’m gonna put my mouth on you now, baby,” he told you, his finger back to circling your clit. “Gonna taste you pussy.”

His eyes flicked from your cunt to your face, searching for any indication that this wasn’t what you wanted. But Joel didn’t find any, your mouth had dropped open in the smallest of o’s, and your eyes were glazed over in lust.

“Please, Joel,” you begged, spreading your legs wider for him.

A grin spread across Joel’s face, and at last he finally closed the distance between his lips and your cunt, placing a kiss to your clit to start.

A hand found his head, as your fingers dug into his hair, which only made him smile wider. He dipped lower, flattening his tongue to taste you properly. You tasted so good, a sweet-salty taste he instantly craved more of. He licked a stripe from your clit to your hole, gathering up the arousal leaking from you, and hummed in contentment.

The fingers in his hair tightened their grip as he teased at your hole, pushing his tongue inside you a couple of times and earning himself the sweetest moans. Joel made sure to remember every twist of pleasure, and whiny moan.

He continued with a lick up the seam of your folds, which made your hips buck, chasing the swipes and zigzags of his tongue.

“That feel good, angel?” he prodded before latching onto your clit.

“Y-yes!” you gasped as he sucked and flicked his tongue.

The noises he pulled from you went straight to his hard cock. He could feel the precum leak from the tip and staining the fabric of his pajama pants. Shamelessly, he started bucking his hips against the bed.

He had to calm down, this wasn’t about him.

With a sudden move he pulled away, making a breathy whine escape you at the loss of his mouth. Joel sat up on his knees, before his hands found the back of your knees.

“Hold your legs f’me, angel,” he commanded, and pushed your legs up towards your chest. You did as he told you, and hooked your arms under your knees to put your cunt on full display for him.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, “so pretty f’me… so messy– listen.”

He ran a finger down your cunt to prove his point, a slick wet sound filling the air.

“Please, Joel,” you begged again, your voice broken with a breathless whine.

“Please what, angel?” he mocked, a spark of pride filling his chest as he watched you bite down on your lip.

“Please… make me come,” you whispered, and Joel thought he’d never heard anything sound so hot in his life.

He dove down again, consumed your cunt. His tongue lapped at your core, his finger teased your hole, pushing the pad just inside your opening; in and out, in and out. His lips found your clit again, where he flattened his tongue before drawing precise circles. Around his finger your cunt pulsed – you were close.

Joel never slowed down his tempo, determined now to make you come. He continued to lick and suck, thrusting his fingers inside you fully now as he pushed up against the spot he’d found earlier. Your breath picked up the pace, small breathy moans and whines escaping you in an increasing tempo.

“R-right there,” you heaved, your face scrunched together in pleasure. “D-don’t stop– I’m gonna c-come.”

Joel hummed against you, continuing his rhythm with his fingers and his tongue, coaxing you closer and closer to your orgasm. You started to mumble something, but Joel couldn’t hear it clearly between your heaving breaths.

He was determined now.

Curling his fingers again, your eyes snapped open, “Joel!”

Your cunt spasms around his fingers, and then you came around his fingers. Your eyes screwed shut as you moaned, as your body squirmed under him.

You looked so beautiful– you sounded so beautiful.

He continued to massage his fingers inside you, thrusting them slowly as you rode out your high. Making sure to drink in every sound, every squirm and twist of your pleasure as he watched you calm down.

When your breath had started to come back to normal, Joel pulled his fingers from your cunt. His fingers were coated in you, coated in your slick arousal and your cum. With a cheeky smile he brought his fingers to his mouth as he locked eyes with you and sucked them clean. The wide-eyed look on your face was the sweetest thing he’d seen.

“Joel,” you begged, your hand pulling him down over you.

He held himself up with a hand digging into your pillow, and he couldn’t help but smile as he looked down at you. He never wanted to forget the look on your face in this moment, never wanted to forget what you looked like glowing in a post-orgasm bliss.

Your hands cupped his cheek and pulled him down to your lips. The kiss was desperate, wet and messy, and it made Joel’s heart soar inside his chest. His cock was so hard. He could slip it inside you just for a moment, only the tip.

“Please,” you said breathlessly between kisses, “you can fuck me, Joel.”

No, not yet.

With a shake of his head, he came to his senses, “No, angel, this was just f’you.”

Your eyes widened with confusion; a slight frown pulled at your eyebrows as he pulled away. Joel bought himself some time by pulling you closer and wrapping an arm around you, careful not to press his hard cock into your ass.

“There ain’t exactly any condoms out here,” he told you, “It’s just too risky.”

It was a sorry excuse, Joel knew it, and he could tell you did too. His boner rubbing into your ass told you as much. Joel wanted to, he wanted to fuck you, but he just couldn’t, not yet anyway. Not until he knew that it was what you wanted, that he was what you wanted.

A moment went by before he heard you whisper, “You can pull out?”

Joel couldn’t hold back the smile threatening to spill across his face, “I’ve heard that one before, didn’t exactly go to plan.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, turning around in his arms to find his face.

Shit.

“Nothin’,” he shook his head. He didn’t want to think about that right now, didn’t want to feel that grief that’s never gone away, didn’t want it to tear at the happiness he felt in this moment. “It’s just somethin’ from before.”

Your interest seemed to pique at that. You turned around fully in his arms and slung your arm around his broad chest. Your eyes glittered with curiosity, “How was it? Your life before?”

Memories flashed before Joel’s eyes; days of hard work under the Austin sun, drunk laughter at the bar with his brother, pink birthday parties, and singing along to girl groups in the truck.

He held his breath for a moment before he let out a quiet sigh, “Normal, I guess.”

When he looked down at you where you rested your head on his shoulder, it seemed his brief answer had disappointed you, so he decided to elaborate, “I worked too damn much– me ‘nd my lil’ brother we uh, had a business together–”

“Contractors,” you remembered.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “that’s right.”

“What’s his name?” you asked.

“Who’s name?” Joel frowned.

“Your brother,” you said, the ‘duh’ not spoken out loud, but your tone indicative of it either way.

“Uh, Tommy.”

“Joel and Tommy,” he could hear the smile in your voice. “What’s he like?”

Joel sucked in a breath, “A pain in my ass first of all.”

A playful slap landed on his chest and Joel couldn’t help but smile, “I’m serious.”

Interlocking his fingers with your hand on his chest, Joel opened up to you. “Tommy always wanted to be a hero. He enlisted in the army right outta high school, I was… well, it doesn’t matter– they shipped him off to Iraq a few months later and he…” Joel trailed off, his eyes fixating on a crack in the ceiling.

“What happened when he got back?” you gently asked with a squeeze of his hand.

“Turns out bein’ in the army doesn’t make you feel much like a hero,” Joel sighed, “I watched out for him, kept him outta trouble, made sure he had a steady job.”

“You’re a good brother,” you told him, but Joel felt the opposite.

“I don’t know,” Joel shook his head slightly, “Then the outbreak happens, and Tommy convinces me to join a group makin’ their way up to Boston, which I did, mostly to keep an eye on him, keep him alive. We meet Tess, join a crew ‘nd… did some things I ain’t proud of, but we were survinin’, right?”

You squeezed his hand again, urging him to continue. “Then Tommy meets Marlene. She talks him into joinin’ the Fireflies. Same mistake he made when he was eighteen– wants to save the world. ‘Course, last I heard he quit the Fireflies too. So, now he’s on his own out there.”

“And that’s how you ended up here, looking for him.” You said the words slowly, like you were contemplating each word, “and he’s still out there somewhere.”

A lump of guilt grew in Joel’s throat. Had he abandoned his brother for the safety of your arms? Let Tess die for nothing?

“Yeah,” he swallowed around his guilt, “Last contact I heard from him came from around the Cody tower– in Wyoming.”

“Cody?” you sat up, “That’s not too far from Jackson… maybe that’s where he is? I need to ask Arthur, but there’s no other settlements around here except in Jackson.”

A small glimmer of hope awakened in him, “You sure?”

“Yeah,” you nodded your head, “when spring comes you should go to Jackson with Arthur– maybe he’s there!”

Your enthusiasm was cute; the way you seemed to glow above him. “Maybe,” he hummed, noncommittedly, as he pulled you down to rest against his chest again.

A moment passed in silence before you whispered, “And this Tess… was she your wife?”

“No, she… she was my partner– but she was family.” The words strained in his throat, like they didn’t want to come out, “She’s dead… got bit.”

“I’m sorry, Joel,” you said, your voice gentle as you squeezed him tighter. “I understand… my family–” you cut yourself of, but Joel understood.

Dead.

“Arthur said I wasn’t the first person passin’ through. I’m guessing that was you?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “I uh, my family and I, we were travelling with a group. It wasn’t very large, but I guess it was big enough to draw attention. One night, uh,” your voice started to tremble, and it broke something in Joel.

“Angel,” he whispered, his hand wrapping tighter around you, “It’s okay, you can tell me.”

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled, “it’s just really hard to talk about.”

“Don’t apologize, I know baby, I know,” Joel soothed before pressing light kisses to the top of your head.

“One night,” you cleared your throat, “We’d camped, had dinner and I… I waited for my parents to fall asleep so I could sneak into the tent of this boy that I liked, Ben. He was the only person my age in our group. I had just turned eighteen and I was in love, I guess.”

You paused, and Joel pressed another kiss to the top of your head. “We were fooling around in his tent when I heard something outside,” you continued, “Ben said I was being paranoid, that I was just afraid to get caught by my parents, but then we heard a gunshot. It was chaos, e-everything, t-they’d killed my family, Ben, e-everyone. I managed to hide behind a tree, my feet were like frozen to the ground, I-I couldn’t run. I saw each and every face of the men who murdered my family. They raided the camp, took e-everything.”

“Angel,” Joel soothed when you started crying, “You’re safe… you’re safe now.”

“I don’t know how I did it, but I managed to get away– I just ran, ran as fast as I could for as long as I could. I’ve never been so cold, or tired or hungry as when I stumbled on this farm. I don’t remember the first days, I was so sick, but Alma and Arthur took care of me– I owe them everything, they saved my life.”

You were full on crying now, and Joel tried his best to calm you. He whispered soothing words in your ear, pressed soft kisses to your skin, and held you in his arm. He let you cry, as he cursed the people who’d done this to you – cursed the world who continued to take, and take, and take.

Joel couldn’t leave you, and maybe deep down he’d know it for a long time. He’d do as you’d suggested and go with Arthur to Jackson come spring, but he was coming back for you.

He wasn’t gonna leave you.

The days came and went and collected into a tranquil rhythm of the cogs in Joel’s routine. He’d wake to the bleeding blade of the sun over the lip of the mountain, or your kisses over his heavy eyelids. After that first night together, you slept in his bed more nights than not, as his bed transformed into a room for just the two of you. A place where Joel didn’t have to think or be anything other than completely himself. A place to laugh and smile, whisper under the bright moon, and hear his name fall from your lips in breathy moans.

Your chest rose and fell in a steady beat, your eyes closed so delicately you looked like a sleeping angel. And you were, his angel. Joel never made a habit of watching you sleep, but sometimes he’d indulge himself in the peacefulness of the hour between night and dusk. By the time the room started to turn blue with the morning light, that’s when Joel missed you too much; wrapping his arms around you with just enough movement to wake you without being blamed.

He’d let you dream for a few moments longer, though. Content to lay in the silence with you before the noise of the day would pull you apart. But the moment of peace could only last for so long, the soft thumps of Alma’s steps down the stairs told Joel it was time to wake up.

Under the crinkling of the sheets, Joel’s hand found the dip in your waist. He was about to kiss you good morning when he heard Alma’s steps come closer and closer. A surge of panic coursed to his chest.

“Joel?” she knocked on his door.

“I ain’t decent yet, Alma,” Joel yelled through the door. The loud bass of his voice made you blink your eyes open, looking up at him with a curious look.

“I’m sorry Joel– I was just letting you know that Arthur isn’t feeling well today.”

Joel sighed. This was the third time in as many weeks Arthur was sick, and now Joel was in for another day alone with the work and the trees.

“Thank you, ma’am. I’ll be out in a second.”

“I’m going to get started on breakfast for you, Joel,” she answered.

When Joel had thanked Alma, and her steps had faded away, Joel indulged himself in a morning kiss. The way your lips slotted against his felt like oxygen rebounding his lungs. 

“Again?” you sighed when you broke away from the kiss, your hand found his hair to brush a curl from his face.

“’s the cold I reckon– ‘nd the work… it ain’t exactly easy on the old man.”

You hummed and cupped his chin. “Maybe I should go with you today? Help you out?” you posed.

Joel heard himself chuckle and shook his head, “That ain’t happenin’, angel.”

A gasp left your lips in mock shock, “Why?”

“’Cause the animals would miss you, and I intend on stayin’ on their good side,” he said, a smile hanging off his face.

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully, intent on making him cave, “They’ll be fine.”

Joel only laughed, “You say that ‘nd the next thing I know I got Colonel Eggsworth on my ass.”

“I don’t believe that,” now you were giggling, “Colonel Eggsworth is the nicest rooster we’ve had!”

“I ain’t takin’ any chances, angel,” Joel pecked your lips.

“Coward,” he heard you mumble under your breath as he got out of bed. It made Joel smile, and a warmth gathered around his heart.

Back in the routine, after another quick kiss, you sneakily slipped back into your room to get dressed. While Joel pulled his sweater over his head, he thought about what it meant to wake up each morning with you and feel three words rive at his heart, never having it in him to say them, to let them spill out his mouth.

Maybe saying nothing was honesty’s default. Maybe it was how he could avoid telling you all the stupid things he wanted to say. So, for now he said nothing. Said nothing at the breakfast table. Nothing when you’d helped him saddle up Ingydar. And nothing as you waved him goodbye.

After months working in the woods, Joel did his work on autopilot. He always started with a reconnaissance round, looking for which trees to chop down. Then, with the weight of the axe in his hands, he’d start his work. Now, after they’d brought the horse out, the work was somewhat easier. He still had to chop down the tree, and clean off the branches, but he could move the trunks much easier now with the horse.

The wind howled like a hound, biting at Joel’s cheeks but the sun was out, and Joel didn’t mind. He’d gotten used to the cold by now, and Arthur had taught him quickly how to layer up. The increasing number of knitted pieces of clothing you’d made him also helped.

By the time the sun was at its highest peak, Joel debated going back for lunch. He’d done so every time he was alone out here, and especially after they’d started bringing the horse. The walk back had been cut in half on horseback, maybe even more than half now that he didn’t have to wade through the snow.

Looking back, Joel almost couldn’t see Ingydar where he’d tied him to a tree. He’d gone deeper into the woods than yesterday. Maybe it wasn’t worth it today? He could eat his packed lunch and finish up a little earlier instead.

The days had gotten shorter and shorter, and the hours of daylight had shrunk in the months he and Arthur had been working. But the sun had turned, Joel felt it. It wasn’t much, maybe a half hour or so, but he felt the difference.

He ate his lunch in the company of Ingydar, feeding him some carrots he’d snagged from the basement. He was a good horse, old and tired but hard working. Joel worked until the sun dropped behind the mountain, a shadow coating the world as it grew darker and darker. He needed to get back before it got properly dark. Joel quickly gathered his things, swinging his gun over his shoulders before he was back on horseback.

The horse knew the way back by itself at this point, even in the dark, but something wasn’t right. What was that smell? Small snowflakes started to fall from the sky the closer he got to the edge of the wood, but the smell only grew stronger.

Smoke.

Thoughts tumbled in Joel’s head, small fleets on a stormy sea. With a kick to the sides of Ingydar, they picked up their pace. The muted rhythm of horse hoofs against the packed snow trail, beat along to Joel’s heart.

A cloud of smoke rose up to the sky, dancing through bright yellow and orange flames. Joel couldn’t get there fast enough, pushing Ingydar to the limit as they galloped up the trail to the house. Joel’s heart was in his throat.

What the fuck was happening?

The flames licked at the sky, devouring the house, moaning and kicking like a beast. The heat was unbearable, the light almost blinding. Ingydar neighed loudly as Joel quickly jumped down, not bothering to tie him to something or calm him down. Joel watched the house burn in total disbelief. Frozen to the ground by shock, his heart beating loudly in his ears.

You.

Where were you? You had to been able to get out somehow, right? Why was everything so quiet?

Something caught his eye then, only a few steps from the porch stairs. His feet carried him without a second thought. Arthur was clad in only his pajamas and his robe. He must’ve been forced out of bed. The snow around him was stained crimson from where the life had spilled out of him.

Joel’s first thought was that he was dead, but then Arthur’s eyes flickered open to find Joel’s. The snow creaking under Joel’s shoes must’ve pulled him from his slowed death.

“Joel?” he croaked, blood spilling from his mouth.

“Don’t try ‘nd speak.” Joel’s voice came out colder than he’d expected. This couldn’t be real. Falling to his knees, Joel worked quickly, placing Arthur’s head gently in his lap as he found the source of the bleeding.

The blood oozed from a hole in his stomach. A bullet wound, most definitely. Joel put as much pressure on it as he could manage. His mittens drank the blood greedily, saturated by red. It just kept coming, the warmth coating his fingers.

What the fuck had happened?

Under him Arthur coughed, spilling more blood down his chin, coating his white beard in red. “Listen…”

Joel shook his head. This couldn’t be happening. This was just a bad dream. If he could just open his eyes, he’d be back in bed with you. He just needed to open his eyes.

“She’s alive,” Arthur managed to say, “They took her alive. Raiders–” another cough, “Broke in. Alma dead.”

The panic in Arthur’s face was almost too much for Joel to watch. His breath was heavy, breathing through this new information as his head spun with questions. Arthur’s eyes glazed over, and Joel knew there wasn’t enough time.

“Where is she?” he hurried, his hand lightly tapping Arthur on his cheek. He just needed to stay alive a little longer.

“Woods.” Was the only word Arthur could manage, as he used the last of his strength to point south.

An awful stench mixed with the smoke, and Joel knew Arthur was gonna die. His body couldn’t control itself anymore, ridding itself of the last of pieces of life. There was nothing beautiful about it. Nothing peaceful or dignified. Not how an old man like Arthur should leave this world.

Joel grabbed Arthur’s hand, it was clammy and cold, but it was the least he could do – Arthur wasn’t gonna die alone. He tried to think of something to say, anything at all, but the words died on his tongue.

“Alma…” Arthur whispered with his last breath, and Arthur’s hand went slack in his hand.

An eerie silence fell over the farm, safe from the fire crackling and moaning. Emotions raged inside Joel, fighting to bubble to the top. Anger, confusion, guilt, grief. A loud crack could be heard, like glass shattering, and it pulled Joel from his shock. He gently laid Arthur down on the ground, before he managed to rise on unsteady feet.

A loud noise started ringing in his ears, and Joel’s breath started coming out in an uneven pace. Shit. Joel tied a fist over his chest, his body tilting forward as he tried to catch his breath over the panic tying up his throat. He took a few shuffling steps before he hurled, gall burning his tastebuds as Joel vomited on the ground.

When he’d thrown up all there was in his stomach, Joel groaned. He ripped off the bloody mittens as quickly as he could, his hands digging into the white snow to wash his mouth of the bitter taste.

Joel burned inside and outside. Standing so close to the house, the heat was unbearable. Everything was unbearable. Sarah was dead, Tess was dead, Alma was dead, and Arthur was dead.

Could he take anymore grief? Joel wondered. How much grief was a man supposed to endure in a lifetime? None of this was fair.

Had he just gone back to the house for lunch, they’d all be alive. Had he not dragged her across the country to find his stupid brother, she’d still be alive. Had he not told that soldier she was hurt, she’d still be alive.

As he stared into the raging fire, Joel felt his own anger simmer to the surface. It pushed away all the grief, and the guilt, and sharpened his senses, made him laser focused. His arms and legs moved by their own accord, tugging the shotgun from his shoulder, before he started moving in the direction Arthur had pointed.

They were gonna pay for this. They’d made his world go up in flames and struck the match on their own life in return.

As Joel vanished into the night, he left a piece of himself behind. He was going to find you. He was going to hold you and kiss you again. Nothing or no one could come in the way of that.

Nothing could come in the way of Joel.

i hope someone liked this? i'm very curious about what your thoughts for the last part will be, so if you have them please leave a comment, reply or an ask. they are always super welcomed, and they make me super happy <3 other than that thank you for reading!!

next part -> here!

© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Keep Moving Forward

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You're determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he's just some guy that's taller than most people right? He's probably harmless! Well, he's a little scary, but you still like him anyway.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

AN: Just want to say a massive thank you for everyones lovely comments on the last part, I can't believe how many notes that has now 😱 I've got a taglist so if you want to be added or removed (I just stuck down everyone that commented or reblogged the last one with tags/comments) lemme know! Also I've got my own version of what König looks like and I've been including details so hopefully you like my thoughts on him 🥰

Part 2 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here

-☠️-

A forbidden crush, a whole unit of men watching out for any missteps and a job that required you to be on your A game - it all sounded a bit like a bonkers netflix plot, but no this was your life now. You were desperately trying to hide your little (massive) König crush, while trying to get through your days and it was going horribly. The universe was working against you. 

König kept appearing for one. Now that he knew you weren’t talking to him just to fuck with him, you’d been meeting more and more and talking for longer each time. In fact, you’d come to learn a lot about the man in the short amount of time you’d spent together and unfortunately for you, nothing about any of it turned you off.  In fact, you were only falling harder for him. 

Every touch, every grazed hand when you were reaching for mugs and brushed sides when you sat together on the couch - they were driving you crazy. Not to mention catching little details about him here and there, painting a mental picture that rivalled the mona lisa. 

You’d caught a glimpse of a scar that snaked up from his lip and a few that marred his hands and arms, you’d noted bruises that carried back from missions and most of all you couldn’t help but think of the little birthmark on his left hip that he’d exposed when he’d been reaching for tea. You thought about running your fingers along them often, kissing them all better. 

You’d learned that it was pretty much pointless to make movie references to König because he barely took time to watch them. He was much more of a doer, he didn’t like to sit still for long and most film runtimes were over an hour and a half, which was no good for him. And so you’d slowly gotten a peek into his more active hobbies. Hiking, rock climbing and skiing, only to name a few. The man was an athlete that rivalled most of the soldiers you knew.  

“And this was the view from top!” he’d proudly said after he showed you another picture from one of his hikes.

“Woah, no wonder your legs are like tree trunks,” you’d murmured, raking your eyes over his thick thighs.

“What was that?”

“Oh! Just- you must get a good workout climbing all those hills.”

Just one of the many times you’d let your appreciation for him slip. You could barely help it most of the time, he had your words fizzling out like some kind of mentos and coke explosion. The highly trained soldier in you died the minute you were in a room with him. 

It was when he grabbed you that you finally went stupid for him. König was - as Captain Price had described him - a mammoth in many regards. You’d already taken note of his verging on monstrous height, but you’d come to learn a lot more about his strength. He could lift you like you were little more than a lap dog.

How had you come to find this out? Well -

“Watch out!”

Your head had been completely in the clouds, busy catching up with messages from your family, when suddenly you were in the air. You gasped as you felt a pair of hulking arms pick you like an apple from a low hanging branch and squeaked when you looked down and came to notice the pile of vomit that lurked below your flailing feet. Gross. 

Then you’d come to the slow realisation of exactly whose arms were wrapped around you. Suddenly the rising feeling of nausea was replaced by hordes of stirred up butterflies.

“Are you ok?” 

You blinked, still shocked that König was holding you like you were nothing.

“Uh- ah- yeah! Yup! All good, big guy!”

You’d hurried out your reply, sputtering out your words like a leaky tap. You felt like an idiot. Then the feeling intensified when he put you down and turned you to face him. In fact, you felt like someone had placed a heat pad to your face after running a marathon.

If he could lift you that easy when you were limp, imagine how easy he could lift you up against the wall and-

“Are you sure you’re ok? You look…not so good?.”

You gulped and offered him what you hoped was a reassuring smile and then - to make matters worse - a double thumbs up (who did that???). You silently cursed in your mind, but covered up your embarrassment by staring back at the sick pile for a second and then facing König again.

“Ew…thanks for saving me from that! I would’ve been throwing up as well if I’d had to clean that outta my shoes.”

“Any time, friend!”

Friend.

It stung a little, but then you had to remind yourself you were both supposed to be acting professionally, this was a base afterall, and quickly righted yourself. Friend would do fine in a setting where Price would have your head for even looking at König a little flirtily. Especially when the resident gossips had continued to grass you in for any interactions they caught. 

-☠️-

“That was some amount of whitey those new recruits left all over the hallways yesterday,” Soap had remarked after finishing a set of pull ups. 

You hummed in agreement, remembering back to being lifted and growing quiet as you thought about Königs bulging arms. It had been a recurring thought for the whole twenty two hours since it had happened. Not that you were counting or anything, especially not being obsessive by any means. It was just that the electricity that had been sparked by that touch had been racing around your body and now you were stuck replaying the scene over and over in your head like an accursed rerun. 

“English, Soap,” Ghost grunted, from a nearby bench. 

“There was a lot of puke all over the place yesterday,” Soap sighed, rolling his eyes at the Lieutenant. 

“Oh yeah, I heard about that. Did you hear sneaky almost stepped in it?”

“Ooft, that’d be a shite shift cleaning that off.”

“I know. Luckily little sneak got airlifted to safety,” Ghost said slyly, giving you a pointed look. “Got snatched away by a certain giant before they stepped right in it.”

You froze in your spot, just about to curl a weight upwards before letting it crash out of your hands and onto the floor. That fucking, no good old dear prick! How had he heard about that? You hadn’t thought anyone else had been around when it had happened. 

“Careful, sneak. The German’s not here to stop that from stubbing your toe,” Ghost chuckled.

“He’s Austrian actually…And how did you know about that?”

“Oooh! Austrian,” Soap snickered.

“Well I do apologise. You should know by now that I hear about everything when it comes to our unit, sweetheart.”

You hated that. Whenever Ghost patronisingly called you sweetheart it made your blood boil and clouded your thoughts like a thick red mist. Though, there was nothing you could do about it. He wasn’t someone you could wage revenge on without being thoroughly outgunned in all respects. Plus, it would only make you look more guilty. 

“Well, you didn’t even know what nationality König was so you don’t know everything,” you muttered.

“Well, now that you’ve filled me in, I can go tell Price you were getting lifted up by the big Austrian cunt that he told you to stay away from,” he countered smugly. 

“What! I can’t help who snatches me out of the air from nowhere,” you hissed. “Have you seen the size of him? I can’t exactly stop him.”

He tisked. 

“Well then, soldier. Sounds like you need more training. C’mere, we’ll practise getting out of holds!”

You yelped as Ghost had come crashing toward you and dove out of the way just in time to miss his outstretched arms. Even if he was smaller than your new companion, Ghost was still built like a tank - and he would pin you down like a mouse under the wheel of a 4x4 if he caught you. 

“Stay away from me!” you’d squealed, running away from the gym. 

“Oh now you’re suddenly averse to getting grabbed!”

-☠️-

Essentially, you were discovering a new level of hell every day. Your entire unit had cottoned on to your little thing with König and now there was no escape from the jokes they made. Well that is until Price came along and no one was quite enough of an asshole to mention your activities to him. You all knew the consequences of getting his back up and it wasn’t worth the stress for anyone. 

Though, not everyone was aware of that - König himself for one. Unluckily for you, you’d found yourself in the kitchen with Price and Soap and just as the kettle was put to the boil, who should walk in but the Austrian giant himself. 

“Evening,” he murmured, barely loud enough to be heard over the kettle. 

Soap looked up from his phone as he noticed König and widened his eyes before searching you out and giving you a sly smile. Oh lord. You knew he was going to love watching you squirm. 

Suddenly your heart was thudding like a samba drum and your mind was racing to find your self restraint. Don’t let Price see you turn into a nervous fucking wreck! You repeated that over and over like a mantra, turning it over in the sands of your mind as if you might find some calm that way. 

“Evenin’” you smiled, feeling your voice lilt.

Oh god. 

You smiled at König as he approached the counter and promptly scampered away to the table, hoping that by keeping some distance you wouldn’t be so transparent. Fat chance considering the stupid smirk that was all over Soap’s face as he pretended to batter his eye lashes behind Price’s back. Asshole!

You knew you looked guilty as hell, even if you were walking away from König. However, any chance of not being caught ogling by Price was worth taking. So you figured you’d stare at your phone instead and prayed to all the gods you knew of that König was busy and he’d have to leave again after getting himself something to drink. 

Why didn’t he ever go out for food? There was a perfectly nice pub just over the road and he could easily go there instead of looking over you all the time - putting you in grievous danger of toilet duty. You’d have to tell him about it sometime, and hope that he’d ask to go with you. 

“Anyone else want a brew?” Price offered, in the midst of pouring his own cup. 

You looked up from your phone screen, darting your eyes over to the captain. Answer him! Speak normally!

“Oh! Yes, me please.”

Maybe that was a little more polite and nicey-nice than usual, but at least you were coherent. That was something, a small victory.

“Coffee for me, Price,” Soap grinned. 

You breathed out a small sigh now that Price was distracted by Soap and let your eyes wander over to König, resting your chin in your hand. He was so big, he towered over the two other men by a few heads at least. He could pin you down like a lion and there’d be nothing you could do about it, nothing you’d want to do about it. 

“That’s the wrong one.”

You jumped as König’s accented voice interrupted the thankful silence and widened your eyes as you watched him turn to Price. What was he doing? You sucked in a breath and watched as the two men became locked into an exchange and silently hoped a rogue sniper might take you out. 

“Sorry, what was that?” Price asked, frowning deeply as he stared at the masked man.

“That’s the wrong tea,” König supplied helpfully. “Sneaky likes this one.”

As if correcting Price on his choice of tea wasn’t enough, König went to the lengths of picking a bag of your herbal stuff out. He dropped it into the mug and stuck the other bag back in the back, tilting his head as Price stared at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“Well then…thanks for the advice,” he finally said, turning to stare you down. “It’s never nice when you expect one thing and get the other.”

You were in deep shit. 

He was giving you the ‘I’ve killed before and I’ll do it again’ look. You gulped and slumped in your chair, feeling like a tiny child that was about to get reprimanded. Price was going to learn all about your involvement with König soon, the game was up. 

“Oh yeah, no problem!” König said, sounding like he was smiling under his mask. 

That idiot! 

Though, in fairness to him he knew nothing about the toilet duty thing. He didn’t even have any idea that you weren’t supposed to be interacting with him, especially when you’d gone so out of your way to do it over the past month. It wasn’t his fault, but at the same time you could strangle his beautiful massive neck for what he’d done. 

“Sneak, would you mind coming with me for a moment? I think we should have a little chat,” Price smiled. “I’ll bring your tea.”

He was probably omitting that he was going to dump it over your stupid head, you thought worriedly. This wasn’t good at all. 

You gulped and nodded at him, slinking out of your chair like a dog about to take a beating. Though, you continued to follow behind him just as dutifully - Ignoring Soap as he gave you a little wave off and a snarky smile. You knew as soon as you’d left that he was messaging the group chat right then, and the whole 141 would know that you were getting pulled up for speaking to König. 

He lead you down the hall and into an empty meeting room, setting the two mugs down on the table, they hit the wood like death knells, and pointed to the chair in front of him. It all felt very formal, like this was going to be one of the worst telling offs of your life. 

“Don’t look so scared, kid.”

You bit your tongue and chanced a look in his eyes, seeing the glint that lingered within them. He didn’t look furious, but he didn’t look like he was going to offer you a cuddle and kind words either. It made you sweat a little less, but you weren’t dumb enough to completely untense your body yet. 

“Y-you’re not annoyed that I’ve been speaking to König?” You asked, chancing your luck.

“Oh, I’m annoyed, but I’m not going to kill you for it,” he laughed humorlessly, leaning back in his chair. “You look like you’re going to shit yourself.”

“I think I might,” you said, biting your lip and fastening your shaky hands around your warm tea cup. 

“See, that’s why I’m concerned about this…relationship you’re building with König. I worry about you.”

You frowned, thoroughly surprised by his reaction. He was being a damn sight more sympathetic than you were expecting. This wasn’t a bollocking, this was an intervention. 

“You don’t have to worry. We’re just friends - strictly platonic! We talk and have tea together, nothing more than that,” you explain breathily, hoping it’ll appease the captain.

He strokes a hand through his beard and eyes you warily. He’s clearly unconvinced. His jaw is set into a worried line. 

“Hmm.”

He doesn’t give much away. 

“Really, I’m not trying to take things f-further.”

You stutter like a liar. Really, that is what you’re doing if you’re honest with yourself. You might not be asking König out on dates and braiding flowers into his gear, but you have been shamelessly flirting with him and getting into close proximity with him at the slightest chance. Plus, Price practically knows you better than your own parents, he’d be able to tell when you were acting differently, like you were in terminal stages of puppy love. 

“Look, he’s not part of our unit, so really it’s none of my business, I can’t actually do anything about it - as much as I’d like to,” he says, glowering for a moment. “I just think that he’s dangerous and I don’t like the thought of you getting close to him. For all I know, he’s nice enough to you, but when he’s on the field that man’s an animal. There’s something wrong with him.” 

You gasp a little as he says it, shocked that he’d say something like that to you. What did he mean there was something wrong with König? Sure, you thought, he was quiet and intimidating but he was so polite and cheerful when you’d gotten to know him more. It’s not like most people were their best selves on a battlefield - it was in your training to leave all that behind. It was hypocritical to judge Königs actions given your experience with the 141 out on missions. 

“What do you mean there’s something wrong with him?” You finally asked, curious to know just what Price meant. 

“He takes too much pleasure in the work he does. He’s sick when he’s out there- like letting a rabid dog out of its cage. I worry about you getting involved with him and being at the mercy of a man like that. You wouldn’t have any chance against him, Sneak. I’ve seen him crush bones like they’re twigs, he’d snap you like a toothpick.”

You can feel your pulse in your ears, can hear it working away like a jackhammer. You don’t know how to respond. The fact that Price is this worried for you really does concern you, but on the other hand König has never given you any reason to be scared of him beyond that first encounter you’d had with him. Then again, you reasoned that that surely wasn’t the real him - that was guarded walled up version of him. Right? 

“I see,” you sighed, not able to come out with more. 

“I know you won’t want to take my word for it, and you’re going to keep doing whatever it is you're actually doing. I just want to know that you’ve been warned and you’re going to be careful.”

You took a breath and looked away, roving your eyes over the assortment of chairs on the other side of the room. Sure, you could take his warning on. Though, it didn’t feel like it was going to stick, not when you thought back to his arms wrapped around you and making you feel like a precious gem. 

“I’ll keep what you’ve said in mind,” you acquiesced. 

“Good soldier,” Price smiled, leaning over and patting your shoulder.

You swallowed thickly and stood up, feeling your breathing return back to normal. Well that was it then. You weren’t going to be killed on sight and you didn’t have to worry about staring down the bowl of a toilet for the rest of your miserable life. 

You both stepped out the doorway and into the light of the hall. You felt dizzy on your feet, but relieved that you were getting away without any punishment. Well, other than the fact that König might be someone to worry about rattling around in the back of your mind, that is. Then again, you had a sneaking suspicion that you’d forget all about it as soon as you were in his company again…

“Remember what I said, Sneaky! Otherwise I’ll let you think about it some more while you’re on your knees scrubbing toilets,” Price said over his shoulder, taking an indulgent sip of his coffee afterwards. 

You stopped in your tracks and shared a look with Soap, who’d poked his head out of the kitchen to check on you. Well, maybe you weren’t going to completely forget Price’s warning. His lingering threat would keep you on your toes. 

-☠️-

“It seems a little late for you to be out walking,” you noted.

You watched as König whirled around, and went wide eyed when he looked like he might hit you. His fist was drawn back and just when it looked like he was about to swing it - he stopped and let it fall flatly to his side. As soon as he’d scanned his eyes over your shrinking form he went limp immediately. 

“Scheiße! Where the hell did you come from?” he cursed.

You took a moment to recover but eventually found your heartbeat returning to its regular rhythm and swallowed, relaxing your shoulders soon after. That was close. You assumed he’d have known you were sitting there on the wall, he always seemed to have a hyper awareness of you as if he was some kind of bat. Though his echolocation must have failed for once, you’d been too obscured by the untrimmed tree branches that had surrounded you, most likely.  

“I-I come out and sit here sometimes, its nice to look at the stars.”

König regarded the wall you were sitting on, just a low down thing made of worn stone and his head followed where it stretched down the road. It cut off the pavement from the small scatty park inside. Then when he looked back at you with his twinkling azure eyes, those eyes that had you forgetting all about the near miss that just happened, you finally got to take him in properly. You watched him as he settled next to you on your makeshift seat. 

Two things struck you all at once. Firstly, König was wearing a neck warmer instead of his usual sniper hood, probably so he wouldn’t scare any civilians more than a hulking giant like himself normally would, it was drawn way up to the bridge of his nose, but nevertheless you knew it was him under there. And next - the mess of shaggy dirty-blonde hair on top of his head. You had to fight the urge not to ask if you could run your hands through it. It was like putting a moth in front of a thousand watt bulb. You ached to feel the fuzz of his faded sides and get to rearrange the chaotic locks above that sprawled in every direction.

“You’re staring.”

You bit your lip as he said it, and looked away guiltily. Oh fuck. It’s not like it could be helped though, this was the most you’d gotten to see of him. He was always so covered up and burdened by gear you could barely make out the man from the material - and now you were getting to see what was basically a visual buffet of König. It wasn’t fair. You could look at every inch of him that he’d let you see all day. 

“Sorry,” you finally breathed out. “I just- uh was surprised is all.”

“Why?” he smirked, eyes crinkling as he stared right back. 

“Didn’t think you’d be blonde,” you say, thinking blessedly quickly. 

“What is it they say? Blondes have more fun?” he chuckled, coming to sit on the wall next to you. 

You snorted and looked away from him again. Even though you’d been talking for a while now, his silly humour could still surprise you, especially when you recalled the way everyone acted around him, as if he’d bite them if they got too close. It was like getting to see a tiger roll onto his stomach when no one else was around. 

“How come you don’t wear that around the base?” you asked, tilting your head at him.

“Why would I? I can wear my hood there without getting questioned about it.”

“But isn’t it less stuffy with the neck warmer?” You ask, crinkling your nose at the thought of being trapped under that heavy material all day. 

“Yes, but it’s as though I can physically feel people's eyes cutting into me when I wear this - or nothing. The staring is too much.” 

You pause for a second and laugh at yourself, feeling a little more embarrassed.

“...Like I was just doing to you there.”

König laughs a little with you, but after a second he shakes his head and breaths out into the frigid night air. The skies had been dark for a little while by that point and the light of the moon was bright and shiny, reflecting in König’s eyes like a gleaming pearl. It was probably the first time you ever recalled admiring the moon that much. 

“I didn't feel like I was being dissected by you, no.”

You felt a little tingle run rogue down your arm. So he didn’t mind you looking at him? You smiled a little wider to yourself and tried to conceal it with a scratch of your cheek. 

“Really? Why’s that?” You asked, feeling a little brave. 

“You stare at me all the time, I’m used to it.”

Instantly it felt as if the air had caught fire and was charring you into oblivion. He’d caught you? Why hadn’t he said anything before? You opened your mouth ready to come up with some kind of silly excuse, too flustered to think of something good. Though he interrupts you before you can get a sound out. 

“I didn't mean to embarrass you, I find it endearing,” he soothed.

“What? Why?” you ask dumbly.

“The way you look - with your wide doe eyes…” he says trailing off. 

Now he cant look at you. His head turns away. You can't speak either, so you're both left frozen in place.

“The way you’re looking at me now,” he finally says.

“Maybe I just can’t stop staring at your messy hair,” you chuckle, trying to awkwardly change the subject. “Someone should fix that for you.”

“Does someone want to?” he asks, his brows setting as he tilts his chin. 

Oh no. You bite your lip feeling like your body’s going to astrally project onto another planet. Was this really happening? Did he actually just give you permission to touch him, no, run your hands through his hair? 

Part of you wants to laugh him off and prevent any embarrassment when he turns around and says he was kidding, says you’re a weirdo for wanting to touch him like that. Your mind starts going down avenues of all the awful things he could say about the little freak that looks at him too much, but then the sane part of your mind kicks and acts as a buffer stop, halting the run away anxiety train. König would never do that to you. 

You were far too used to dealing with Ghost and Soap, and all of their stupid teasing. But even then, not even they would do something so cruel. 

“I do,” you murmur. 

König nods and leans forward and closes his eyes, giving you what little advantage he can with the amount of height he has on you. At first, you’re incredulous that you’re in a real life scenario and not locked into a fantasy seven layers deep, but you quickly give up that idea and decide to tentatively reach out. You’re too excited not to take the opportunity. 

Your hand shakes a little at first as you make contact with his soft hair, and immediately you think of the devil dog your neighbour used to have when you were a kid. It was a huge old thing that barked like a foghorn, but once it got to know you, it would roll over and present its downy fur and you could spend hours at a time running your hands through it. Now, though, it’s not the scary shepherd you’re taming, it’s König. 

He sits perfectly still while you sort through all the strands, smoothing them back and fixing them into place. You swear you can hear soft groans coming from him, but they’re so quiet you could be mistaken. That, and you’re too mesmerised by the task at hand, forming his hood mussed hair into a style. 

When you’re done and his hair is mostly settled - apart from a small cow lick you can’t seem to fix - you can’t help but run your fingers over the fuzz on the side of his head. Immediately he shivers like a harsh breeze has rolled in, surprising you, but when he snaps his eyes open they don’t look annoyed like you worry he is, instead he looks ready to pin you down and take you right there against the wall.

“That felt very nice,” he said softly, blown out pupils shifting away from you as he straightened.

You’re not sure what to say, you just smile and bite your lip, keeping your eyes fixed on him. You know rightly that your pupils are just as wide as his, you can practically feel the explosion that’s going on. You want him. 

“König I… I uh-“ 

Footsteps sounding from nearby, crunching up the leaf littered pavement, interrupt all your thoughts and both of you turn your heads as someone walks up to you both. You hold in a breath, feeling like you’d scream otherwise and watch as a face comes into view from out of the shadows. 

Mercifully it’s not Ghost or Soap that marches up to you, it’s Gaz.He’d been the only one not to completely batter the dead ‘Sneaky and König up a tree’ horse. He stops when he sees you both and his eyes widen as he spots König, probably just as shocked as you were when he realised he can see his face. Though, he quickly averts his eyes and looks at you instead, awkwardly shifting his hands in his hoodie pocket. 

“Captain said to tell you we’ve got an early start tomorrow,” he says looking at you pointedly , “we’ve got a briefing at four. Said you best get all the sleep you can.” 

“Oh…do you know anything about it?” You ask, still feeling a bit breathless from before.

“From what I gather, the 141 and KorTac are heading out together, but I don’t know much beyond that,” he shrugs. 

You give a sideways glance to König and watch as he regards you the same way. That meant you’d be working together for the first time. You take a breath and look back at Gaz, finally nodding your head.

“Thanks for coming to let me know, I’ll head in in a minute,” you assure him. 

Gaz nods back curtly and turns on his heel, retreating to the base again and leaving you alone in the only silence. You finally look back at König, only once you’re sure there’s no one lurking around and looking to catch you with him, and smile softly. 

“Looks like we’ll be working together then,” you laugh awkwardly.

“Seems like it,” he replies, lowering his head. “Perhaps we should listen to the captain’s advice and head in.”

You feel a stab of disappointment tear through your heart immediately. You’d wanted to resume things from where you’d left off. You wanted to pull back the cloth from his face and kiss him under the stars as if they were watching and you were the only ones there. There were fireworks and sparklers going off in your mind, but now they were being snuffed out as you watched König stand up from your not so secret spot. 

“Come on, you need your rest,” he insists, holding out his hand. 

You raise your eyebrows, but put your hand in his and rise as he guides you up. Even with you standing, he towers above you. It’s especially noticeable as you stand so close to him, almost pressed to his big wide chest. There’s a snapping creature in your mind that distantly wishes to jump onto him and kiss him, but you beat the thought back and look away from König instead.

“Hey,” he says softly, tilting your head back with his rough gloved fingers. “I want to pick things back up too, but…not before a mission. We can do this again after all that. Yeah?” 

You gulp, feeling your spine light on fire with tingles. Did he just acknowledge that things were about to go further there? So he definitely felt the same as you…

“Makes sense,” you murmur, feeling your desperation roll off you in waves. 

He is speaking sense, but you don’t want him to be. 

“You can fix my hair for me again when we get back,” he teases, rubbing his finger against your jaw again. “I’m sure it will be very messy.”

“Am I your stylist now?” You smirk, feeling your mood lift. 

“Amongst other things,” he says, eyes showing the smile that was surely on his lips. 

You raise your eyebrows and just as you’re about to ask what things, he silences you with what he does next. He leans down and brings his lips to your cheek, and through his mask, kisses you. 

You freeze in place, your heart thudding like it’ll explode and close your eyes. You can’t believe what just happened. You laugh a little to yourself - letting loose a giggle and open your eyes, watching as he smiles back at you and gestures his hand back to base. 

“To be continued,” you whisper to yourself.

-☠-

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