#flannels are pretty fire

[idkwh0y0uare-haha]

gerard way be like "plaid shirt....... plaid shirt....... plaid shirt........ plaid shirt........ plaid shirt...... oh! a flannel! let's change it up a little!!"

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Neighbour - Noncon

With your electricity out and your devices dead, you have no choice but to turn to your neighbour for help. He's more than willing to welcome you into his home. Really, you're lucky he's such a nice guy.

Tags: male yandere x gender neutral reader, noncon, somno, just the tip anal, daddy kink but only if you squint, 3.3k words

Living in the middle of nowhere had its perks. Privacy. Untouched nature. Peace and quiet.

But after the third day with no electricity, those perks were starting to look pretty damn weak. Your fridge was sitting in an ever expanding puddle. Almost all your devices were dead. And if you had to take one more cold shower you were going to cry.

It was when you were digging through your drawer looking for desperately needed batteries that you found your neighbour's number. He'd offered it to you a little while after you moved in, and while you two were on friendly terms, you'd never actually spoken for longer than a few minutes. You sighed, looked at the 10% left on your phone and decided that desperate times called for desperate measures.

You: hey, it's me. I still haven't got any power. Do you mind if I come over to charge some stuff?

He replied almost instantly.

Unknown: aww that sucks

Unknown: come on over. I've got hot stew and a generator

Unknown: and you can take a hot shower too if you want

Score. And to think you found him intimidating at first. Just goes to show that you can't judge on appearances. You packed a change of clothes, your devices and the last tub of ice cream that wasn't totally melted. You'd find some way to properly pay him back but a tub of chocolate fudge double cream wasn't a bad way to start.

He was waiting on his porch when you pulled up. A bear of a man in a flannel and blue jeans, a five o' clock shadow darkening his jaw.

"Howdy neighbour," he drawled, opening your door for you while you grabbed your stuff. "Regretting leaving the city yet?"

You huffed a laugh. "You do NOT want to know the answer to that."

His cabin was much larger than yours, a two storey behemoth with wide windows and exposed beams. It had a rustic charm - like some natural park Air BnB where they charged a weeks pay for just one night. A little too big for just one man. Didn't he get lonely?

"I brought some ice cream and chocolate to say thank you. And also because it miiight have been melting."

He opened the door for you and ushered you through with a hand on your lower back.

"Hell, I'll never say no to something sweet."

There was a fire burning in the fireplace and a stack of logs in a crate next to it. He was so much better suited to this life than you were. He locked the door behind you and slipped the keys into his pocket.

"Old habit," he explained with an easy grin.

"Why don't you get settled? I'll plug your stuff in."

You handed over your tech with a relieved sigh.

"Thank you. Really. I'm so behind on work already and I haven't heard anything back from the power company."

"I wouldn't hold my breath," he said. "Once ended up going a week straight with not even a light bulb flickering."

You winced. "It gets that bad?"

"Yep. Especially in winter. Gets dangerous then too."

He tilted his head at you, concerned. "You need to get yourself better sorted before it starts snowing. I hate to think of you stuck out there when the blizzards start rolling in."

God, could you be any more of a city slicker? You rubbed your neck, embarrassed.

"Thanks. I've been here a few months now and I guess I just didn't realise how serious things can get."

"It's all good. But if I'm honest, I get worried thinking about you out there all alone. Plenty of drifters end up passing through. Not a good place to be alone, not for a little thing like yourself."

Little? You wanted to feel indignant, but looking at his bulk, you reckoned that most folk probably seemed little to him.

He lead you to the fireplace and poured you a mug of coffee from the pot that was waiting for you. He jerked his head at the hunting rifle on display above the mantle.

"I can teach you to shoot, if you've got some free time."

You took a sip of the coffee, internally debating with yourself. You could see the sense in your offer but you weren't a big fan of guns. Hell, just being around them was nerve wrecking enough. Maybe -

You looked down at your mug in surprise.

"This is some really good stuff."

The coffee was strong, bitter in the best sort of way. You could catch a hint of chocolate in it too. Just sweet enough to make your toes curl.

" 'Course. Only the best for my guest. Help yourself to another cup. I'll just put your stuff on charge and be right back."

You finished your drink in a few sips and happily poured a second serving. Hot coffee... man, you didn't think three days without it would be so tough. Usually, you were pretty sensitive to caffeine. But by the time your neighbour came back, your head was tilted back and you were half asleep.

You tried to shake yourself out of it but he just laughed and pushed you back down.

"You probably haven't had a good sleep since the power went out. Just rest. We can talk once you wake up."

"I'm sorry..."

"It's fine." His hand was still on your shoulder, thumb rubbing small circles into your neck. "It's just fine with me."

You drifted off after that. Into a deep sleep without any dreams. Waking up was like slogging through molasses.

"Finally up sleepy head?"

It was dark outside and your neighbour was on one knee in front of the fire place, coaxing fresh wood to catch.

You sat up slowly. Your muscles ached and there was a strange, salty taste on your tongue.

"My heads killing me..."

He stood, poker still in his hand. "You must be starving then. I've already got some food on the stove. You'll feel better after you eat."

You didn't feel hungry at all. If anything, you felt almost hangover.

"Thanks," you managed. "I'm sorry to be such a bother."

He waved you away. "I don't mind a bit."

He came back with a bowl of steaming hot chow and stood with his arms crossed on the back of your couch while you ate.

"It's real late. I reckon you should stay over. I don't want you driving on dirt when it's so dark."

"Oh, it's fine. I've already put you out so much."

"Don't be silly. I insist."

You shivered without meaning to. That almost growl, low and bordering on menacing. It was so familiar, so...

"Just like that. Look at you, half asleep and still desperate for my cock."

"You like the taste? Yeah, I bet you fucking do."

"Ain't just gonna use your mouth next time."

You squeezed your eyes shut. Where the hell was this coming from? Were you remembering some sick dream from this afternoon?

"You okay there neighbour?"

You nodded. "Just my head."

Maybe he was right. Driving when you were so disorientated was just asking for trouble.

"If you really don't mind... I'll be happy to sleep over."

He laughed, a deep, rumbling thing. "I'll make the guest room up special, just for you."

"Could I use your shower too?"

"I offered didn't I? Come on, I'll show you where it is."

He took you to the master bedroom and jerked his thumb at the en-suite.

"Hot water is the most reliable in there. Door doesn't close that well though, so don't mind it. I'll be downstairs when you're done."

You brushed your teeth carefully. You lips felt sore, bruised in a way you couldn't explain.

You waited until you heard his footsteps going down the stairs before you stripped off your clothes. You stood under the hot water for a good few minutes, luxuriating in the feeling. The bathroom was thick with steam when you finally got to scrubbing yourself. The door was open just a crack and the bedroom beyond was dark. You forgot all about it until you heard the creak of the hinges.

You whirled to face the door, your hands coming up to cover yourself. The steam was too thick to see through. You called his name.

Nothing.

You stepped out with suds still on your thighs and pushed the door open. The room beyond was empty.

You sighed. God, you were being paranoid. Your neighbour was a great guy. It was unfair of you to treat him like a peeping tom when he'd gone out of his way to make you comfortable. It must have been just an errant draught.

You stepped back into the shower and rinsed yourself off. But no matter what you told yourself, you still kept an eye on the door.

When you went to change into your fresh clothes, you spent at least five minutes hunting for your underwear. Did you drop it somewhere? Oh, please say your undies weren't just sitting in the middle of his hallway. That would be beyond embarrassing.

Eventually you gave up and just decided to go without them. Not comfortable at all but still better than walking around in a towel to look for them. And much better than calling your neighbour in to help. Wouldn't that be fun? 'Hey neighbour that I don't know that well, you haven't seen my intimates lying around, have you?' Yeah, you'd never again get invited over after something like that.

When you were dressed, you found him already on his way up the hall. He was carrying a glass of water and some pills.

"Thought you might still have a headache, so I brought you some painkillers."

You paused, nervous but not sure why.

"Thanks." His hands dwarfed yours when he handed them over. You didn't recognise the name of on the pills, but they looked harmless. You tossed them back and gagged at the bitter aftertaste.

"They pack a punch, so tell me when you start to get drowsy."

"Aye aye captain."

You followed him to the guest room. It was at the very back on the second story, quieter than the rest of the house. A huge glass wall gave you a view of the forest disappearing into the darkness. You could see the ghost of your reflection in the glass, your neighbour a hulking, shapeless mass at your shoulder.

He took a seat in an armchair across form the bed and stretched out his legs. You perched on the edge of the mattress, still feeling a bit like an intruder.

"How long have you been staying out here?” you asked.

He smiled at you, teeth glinting almost wolf-like. "Got you curious?"

"A little. Folk in town say they hardly see you. I don't know... I'm just wondering if you ever get lonely."

He was quiet and you cursed yourself for being so nosy. You hurried to fill the silence.

"It's just that I get a bit lonely out here too. 'Specially when it's so quiet. And I guess I was wondering if it's the same for you."

He smiled at you, rueful. "At times. Used to be worse, but I've got a new interest to keep me occupied nowadays."

"Oh yeah? What?"

"Bird watching."

"Really? What do you look for?"

The way the room was lit up, you couldn't see his eyes. They fell into shadow and you only had his lips to read his emotions by. He smirked, slow and almost mocking.

"Just one bird I look out for. Flighty little thing. Tends to get caught by predators a lot. You’d probably recognise it."

The polite thing to do would be to ask what it was called. You didn't. Some part of whispered that you wouldn't like the answer.

You must have been quiet a little too long because he took it as his cue to leave. He stood, a mountain of muscle, his eyes not quite as nice as they seemed that afternoon. A trick of the light, surely. He wouldn't hurt a fly.

"You rest up. Got a busy day tomorrow."

"G'night."

He was gone before you thought to ask what he meant. And you were passed out on your pillows before you realised it. He was right. The pills sure did pack one hell of a punch.

You were aware of a shadow at the end of your bed. You weren't fully awake, and your limbs were slow and heavy with more than just sleep.

"Who..."

The shadow reached down and one warm paw circled your ankle.

"Just me little bird."

You knew that voice. It was the voice that brought you warm food and invited you in from the cold. You could trust it. Could go back to sleep and not worry about anything.

'No,' some part of you hissed, 'He's not as safe as you think.'

"Cold..."

The shadow laughed and it was the laugh of the fox finding the rabbit's den. Nasty. Hungry.

"Cold huh? Don't worry baby. I'll warm you right up."

He yanked your ankle towards him and your whole body slid down the bed. You were too drowsy to stop it.

"Knew you were gonna be mine the second I saw you," he cooed, hands running up your thighs.

His fingers slipped under your waistband, nails scraping your hip bones.

"Dumb little thing from the city. Doesn't even realise I've tripped all their breakers. That's why you don't have power baby. It's all me."

His fingers were as big as the rest of him. Thick, meaty. Skin rough from working outdoors. You whined when his fingertips scraped the edges of your hole.

"No underwear. You needy slut. That's practically a written and signed invitation to fuck you."

He pulled your pants down to your ankles and pushed your knees up to your stomach. And you were too out of it to stop him. Limp and pliable as a fuck doll.

Your tight ass was exposed to the cold air, entirely at the mercy of whatever he wanted to do.

"Cute." He circled his thumb around the rim, almost pushing in but not quite. "Wanted to be in this ass since you first showed up at my door all those months ago. Lookin' up at me all sweet. Fuck, it's enough to drive a man to desperation."

He lowered his head and you could feel his warm breath washing over your thighs.

He dragged his tongue across your hole. Some part of you must have been more awake than the rest, because your whole body jerked away from him.

"None of that," he cooed, hands digging into your thighs and dragging you back. "I haven't even gotten started yet."

He licked you again, deeper this time. The flexed tip of his tongue pushing at your entrance, and to your dull horror, actually slipping in. He moaned and you could feel the vibrations all through your crotch.

He pulled out and spat, rubbed it in with his fingers. One of them pushed in until the second joint, curling into your walls so rough that you gasped.

"Please..."

"Please what?" he mocked. "Please fuck my tight little ass? Please cum inside me? Use your words little bird."

"Please...stop..."

That made him laugh again, made him shove his finger in all the way to the knuckle. Twisting so cruelly as he pulled out and jerked back in.

"Stop? Stop? After all the work it took to get you here? No way baby. I'm not slowing down and I'm sure as fuck not stopping."

You heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, followed by a sharp intake of breath when he nudged his leaking head against your hole.

"You’re not going to remember this. And I'm not going to leave any evidence."

He pushed your legs tighter against your chest.

"So as much as I want to fuck you rotten, you're gonna have to be happy with just the tip."

He'd done a good job loosening and lubing you, but it still burned like a hot poker when he forced his way in. He groaned, almost in pain.

"You're fucking choking me. God, do you want my cum so bad?"

You could feel when the tip was in. That tiny difference in thickness between his head and shaft was oh so noticeable when your ass was clenching and fluttering around it. It was the smallest mercy, but mercy nonetheless.

He was panting from the effort of getting it in, the effort of holding back. The size difference between you almost perverse. Like a draft stallion trying to mount a pony. In every way, he was just too fucking big.

He spat in his hand and brought it to his cock, ran his palm up and down his shaft with sickly wet strokes. The combination of his palm and your squeezing ass was fucking delicious.

He had great stamina but fuck if it didn't feel like you were milking him.

He let go long enough to smack your ass. It almost finished him. You clenched around him so hard it felt like his tip was getting fucking crushed.

"Shiiiit, you're the best hole I've ever had. Can't wait 'til I can go all the way."

You whined, pitiful as snared prey. There were words there, though they were too slurred to make out. Something about Daddy and please and stop. He ignored you.

He pushed in a little deeper and watched your face scrunching up. So helpless, so fucking caught. That was what did it. The knowledge that he could do this to you at any point and you'd be helpless to stop it.

He came inside you, snarling through clenched teeth, his fingers digging into your thigh hard enough to bruise. You'd notice the marks in the morning and chalk it up to just being clumsy. But he'd know. He'd see the bruises peeking out from the hem of your shorts and his cock would twitch just a little at the memory of leaving them.

His cock pulsed. Shot strings of spunk deep inside you. You could feel it. Hot, too hot. Gross. Make it stop. Get it out.

He pulled out with a wet pop. His cum drooled down and he took a minute to work it back into you with his finger. Your hole was gaping just a little and it made his balls pulse. If he had the time...

"A real fucking mess. And on my good sheets too. You're a terrible guest."

He mopped up whatever cum remained with a balled up piece of martial that he pulled from his pocket. Even in you stupor, you recognised it as your missing underwear.

"Terrible guest, but the perks of having you around are pretty fucking sweet."

He dropped your knees back to the mattress, pulled your pants back into place and roughly yanked the duvet over you. He grabbed your jaw and smiled at the lost, drowsy look in your half open eyes.

"Got a big day tomorrow. Gonna wake up and find your whole house was flooded. Ruined. Gonna have nowhere to stay but with me."

He sounded smug. It made your guts twist.

Outside, the night grew quiet. A predator was hunting and most prey knew better than to catch its attention.

"I made sure of it. All your family and friends in the city are away from home. There's no one around to help you out..."

He tightened his grip just enough to watch the fear start dancing in your eyes.

"No one...except me."

He let you go and smiled that same warm, comforting smile from that afternoon.

"Dumb little thing. Got no clue how your water mains work, do you? Got no idea how easy they are to sabotage."

He tutted. "Got me so damn busy. I'm gonna have to run to your place, fuck shit up and be back here before you wake up for real."

He traced his index finger over your lips and left behind a sticky coating of spunk. You'd wake up tasting salt again, with no memory of why.

"But it's fine. I forgive you. After today we'll have plenty of time together. Rest of our lives in fact. So just sleep tight and forget what you think you've dreamed."

There are perks to living in the middle nowhere. Privacy. Untouched nature. Peace and quiet.

There are perks, but unfortunately for you, your neighbour isn't one of them.

[dilf-docs]

Let The Lights Bleed All Over Me

dark jackson!joel x younger!reader

summary: you're known for your kindness and sunshine personality, but they make it impossible for joel to have you for himself. and one thing you know about joel miller, is he isn't a patient man.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), DDDE 🕊, age gap, dark!joel, naive!reader, virgin!reader, dubcon, toxic relationships, corruption kink, humiliation kink, dacryphilia, stalking and kidnapping themes, oral (m. receiving), fingering, power imbalance, lowkey breeding and praise kink, use of multiple pet names, what am i even doing atp ijbol

word count: 4,354 words

side note: this request made me go against my morals. yes, this blog has morals. no matter what filth is going on, consent is sexy my dear fellow citizens, don't forget it! also please forgive my first ever lousy attempt at a dark!character IJBOL

If It Feels Good, Then It Can't Be Bad

In a world ravaged by death, violence and hopelessness, you came like a ray of sun into Joel's life: a bath of sunlight to shine upon his otherwise dark life; to cast light to fight the shadows ever-present on his eyes.

The first time you said his name, even if it was just to repeat it after he introduced himself, Joel knew he was done for.

Your sweet disposition and voice dripping in honey. The soft bat of your eyelashes, and the fact you weren't aware of it, making him squirm whenever you looked in his direction with those doe eyes and best girl smile.

Joel thinks you're a force of nature, yet soft, like the wind: you'd brush past things, just enough to be noticed, but the right amount to knock someone off their feet if you wanted. Still, you seemed to wield this power with benevolence, true to your kind character.

You'd sometimes come over by his house, with a tray of fresh baked cookies or homemade meal, to repay for favors that had started to sound like excuses to be close to him and his musky scent. The way you moved at ease around, like you'd carved a space in those four walls, his home, so easily fitting into his life, akin to falling dominoes. It was also the way you trusted him, staying so close to him in a house blocks away from Jackson's populated busy streets; you could scream for help and no one would hear you. That was you: too kindhearted and innocent, always seeing the best of people.

Maybe that's why you didn't catch the dark when he looks in your way. You don't see him standing outside your house, in that empty dark alley, gaze trained to your window facing the street. After weeks, he'd come to know you only sleep with a big worn t-shirt and your underwear. Joel imagined you wearing his own, the pattern of the flannels decorating your skin. Once, while you were on patrol, he snuck into your house and took the used panties laying in the bin, later pistoning his cock to the scent of you, nose buried in the fabric.

He was obssesed with you: with your scent on the mornings (floral), your hair that fell as waves (he prefered when you used ponytails, definitely not imagining a makeshift one he would do to you), with the inviting peak of your cleavage during the summer, or in your sweet innocence that wafted through the air in an intoxicating yet alluring thick coat of cinammon, smelling as the cookies you're always making. Joel wanted to have you. To taste you. To make you his. He wanted all: your shaky breathing in winter, skin devoid of scars and hurt, your sweet smiles and naive nature.

So he persisted until you spent more time at his house than your own, until Ellie started seeing a mother in you despite your young age, until you gave him a soft kiss to his lips, and he lost himself to the fire, the flames burning until he managed to have you under him, squirming as he pumped his thick calloused fingers in and out, doing circles and then curling them, your pretty pussy gushing out liquids he'd obscenely lick afterwards. Good girl, praising. One day, I'm gon' give you the real thing. Then, Joel would remove damp strands from your face and press his soft and broader frame against your own, curves matching his edges, fitting in like pieces of a puzzle. He'd hold you and whisper I got ya', promising to protect you and never let you go, and while it made your chest flutter, it too felt a threat. Like when he'd bruise your arm for holding too tight, be it someone who talked or saw you longer than he liked. You said he was hurting you, but Joel chuckled, replying: "How can love hurt?"

It wasn't something you could stop, Joel would learn: everyone orbits around the sun, captivated by the light. You had all Jackson wrapped around your finger, him included.

You lived to love, giving and receiving that warmth you so easily carried despite the cruel and harsh word just outside the gates. Everyone wondered how broody older Miller got with young sweet you. It made no sense, but Joel made sure to rub it on their judging faces, parading you like a prize, by obliging Tommy to be your only patrol partner, since he didn't trust anyone else around you; he hated loosing sight of you. He too would suck on your skin, despite your cries of pain, so the whole town could see you were his: that he owned you and your tender fragile heart.

People didn't get that Joel's love was like a heavy blanket: warm, but suffocating.

And they too didn't get that meant Joel needed you like oxygen to breath. No, instead they went about their day making sure to bask in your warmth, relishing in your light while he was pushed to the shadows. All of Jackson was hellbent on making sure you spent time with everyone but him, whether it be helping with tasks that weren't yours because you couldn't say no, or just any excuse to spend time with you since that's how much everyone liked you.

And Joel Miller is not a patient man. He could only take so much after losing what he's lost.

So, today, when he shows up at your door, unannouced as you help take care of some neighbour's kid while their mother is out on patrol, his deep brown eyes carry a shade of dark you can't quite place.

"Joel?"

He doesn't greet you, instead, forcing his lips on yours, his tongue shoving its way inside your mouth.

"J-Joel!" you manage to squeak after he pulls out, "what are you doing? There are kids in the room!"

But he's too entraced by your swollen lips, rapid breaths and erratic heart. Your pupils are blown wide, and Joel just happens to love your big round pure eyes that stare back at him in disbelief.

"Don't care" he replies, voice gruff. Of course. "Came to remind ya' 'bout me"

You smile sweetly. "Why, Joel? How can someone forget about you?"

Your sugary tone and good heart; he can't get mad at you. But his blood boils in a feeling he knows all too well, creeping its way up his throat in a bitter taste that makes him clench his fists until they turn white. You're blissfully unaware, just as the kid that plays in your lap. His breath hitches and blood rushes to his cock.

(You. Full as he spurts his seed inside of you, dripping from your spent cunt. Big round belly carrying his child. Maybe that way, all prying eyes will learn. He'd have you all for himself, move you into his house, and you'd be too busy with your own baby to waste time with the rest of the town)

"Maybe if ya' weren't so goddamn busy with all of fucken Jackson you'd know what 'am talkin' 'bout"

Your face falls at his bitter tone. "Joel, I'm sorry-"

But he doesn't let you finish. He never does. Instead, he speaks until words wound your heart and then he'd say I'm sorry, I'm sorry until his voice drowned in your chest, where he'll hid his face. You forgave him every time.

(Knew he got mean when he was nervous, like a bad dog. That he'd bite, because he'd been too long bearing teeth to know how to be soft―but you let him try)

"Come today to my place" he says today instead.

What?

"What?" you repeat out loud.

The kid in your lap giggles, toothless grin in display, completely oblivious to the situation unraveling in front of them, the atmosphere charged.

"Later" he's turning his back, boots echoing on the floor as he reaches for the exit. "Don't forget it"

And then the door slams. You look down to the kid, who gives you a puzzled look.

"I know" you reply, stroking their head. They close their eyes, content, but all you can think of is Joel. "I know"

But the truth is you don't.

The last thing you remember is sitting on Joel's house. Ellie was with Dina, and the quietness of the house gave you a sense of peace, even if it ran deeper than other times. A single candle flickered in the table he had set, and you joked you didn't know he was capable of good things.

"Oh, sweetheart" he laughed, "I'm capable of lots of things"

He served you food he cooked, and when you questioned the odd gesture, he told you there was always a first, but his words carried an underlying tension you couldn't shake. You ate in silence, and then he gave you a cup of wine. Drink, voice a low rumble. Your body felt warm, and after a few cups, dizzy.

"Joel?" you asked, dropping the cutlery on the floor. The sound jolted you awake, but your body didn't respond.

"I think ya' need sum rest, baby" his steps drawing closer, but his frame so far away.

You think he placed you in your bed, the blankets over you.

But you're under. Drowning.

"Mornin', sweetheart" a voice draws out. You raise from the bed, a sharp pang hitting you. "Take it easy"

"W-what happened?"

"Nothin', y/n" him saying your name always brought you comfort; put you at ease. "But we've plenty of time for that. No funny bussiness from fuckin' ass Jackson"

You raise an eyebrow at that. Then, you look around, and it takes you a while to understand what's actually happening.

This isn't Joel's house. Your eyes dart to the bed, fast and panicked. This aren't your bed covers either. Or worse, neither his.

"Where are we?" your voice comes out smaller than you intended. You look at him, body trembling. "Joel?"

He doesn't answer, instead, walking in silence towards the open window.

"You cold?" he closes it, and the suffocating feeling of being trapped augments. "Your body's shakin', baby. Why don't you put the covers on again-"

"Don't touch me!" you scream, and you hate the way his face falls. But then the glimmer you love on his eyes is absent, replaced with dullness. Then, something akin to a burning rage replaces it, yet he's quick to mask it.

"No need to shout, baby" and he sits on the bed, despite on your insistence to withdraw from his presence, "no one's gonna hear ya"

You just then realize you're in the middle of nowhere, only trees being seen behind the window he's closed. How could this be the same man who tenderly kissed you before leaving you at your doorstep?

"I-I don't know what's happening" your voice wavers and you hate it, "but let me go"

"So you can go back to fuckin' ignorin' me?" Joel barks. You jump out of the bed, naked feet against cold floor. The temperature hits your bare legs. Bare legs?! You were wearing jeans. Had he-

"Joel" you seethe his name.

He chuckles, but its devoid of joy. Of any emotion, actually.

"I ain't touch ya" he knows you so well, guessing the fear in your eyes. "Not yet"

Your voice is thick and hoarse with emotion. "W-what is that supposed to mean?"

"You think I would'a sit waitin' 'till ya' had the nerve to fuckin' look at me?" he gets closer, and you start to cower and tremble in fear.

"W-what?" you shake. "Please, Joel, just tell me what's happening! I don't get it-"

You walk backwards until your back presses against the wall. He chuckles, licking his lips like a hungry wolf; Joel's got you cornered.

"What's there to not understand? Jackson's taken too much of your time. I'm gonna just take back what's rightfully mine" you start to piece the pieces together, and your stomach drops with uncertainty. You feel lightheaded and at unease. "Cuz you can't say no, can you, baby?" Joel laughs darkly, like he's making a fool out of you. "Hope you don't say no to me now"

You remain quiet, your shaky breaths and uneven sobs the only sounds in the room. What is there even to say? That you can't help what's in your nature? That you'd deny helping others? That it's okay he does this in the name of love?

"Ya' gonna play hard to get?" his boots rumble menacing as his steps draw him closer, "like you ain't beggin' for 'tis"

Joel Miller wasn't a patient man. He yanks you by your hair, and you scream at the action, his breath gracing your face.

"If ya' want things to go smooth, ya'nswer when I talk to ya', get it?" Joel roars through gritted teeth. Droplets of saliva sprinkle over your skin, and you squirm.

"O-okay" you manage to nod, whimpering.

"Aw" he coos, and it's scary how fast Joel's switched. "See? It ain't hard to be a good girl fo'me. Just like y'are in town" Joel chuckles. "Jackson's girl"

The nickname feels like a slap to your face. Tears begin to fall from your eyes before you can stop them.

"No need to cry, baby. I'm gon' treat ya' like I always do: right" Joel grabs you by your chin roughly, digits coloring your skin purple. "That if ya' cooperate"

Joel never imagined to hurt you, but as you pathetically wail and fat droplets run through your face, eyelashes adorned like snowflakes by tears, he thinks you're the prettiest thing in the world, his throbbing dick approving.

"But you know what?" his grip on your hair tightens, "don't stop. Ya' got yourself a pretty face when you cry"

"J-Joel" you beg one more time, but he can see your pupils blown wide and the faint whiff of your arousal in the air.

"Fuck, baby. You into 'tis?" you whimper. "S'fuckin' sweet but ya' can't help wettin' yourself f'r me now"

He forces you on your knees, and you shake in fear, hiding a barely concealed cry.

"That's right" Joel looks down at you, darkly chuckling. "Love how ya' look like 'tis"

You gulp as you're face to face with his hard dick, something you've always wanted to try, but now you're body feels like it's not your own and your mind's numb. You can't think straight as his free hand pulls his worn jeans down, his big hand pushing you against his clothed crotch, and you feel the pulsating dick against your cheek.

"Feel that, sunshine? That's how bad I missed ya" Joel's hand now removes his underwear, and then looks at you, carressing your cheek gently. "Will ya' be a good girl and show me ya' missed me too?"

But before you can provide an answer he shoves his half hard cock in your mouth. You try not to gag, having never done it before. In many ways, Joel had been your first: the first fingers to touch your pussy, not even your own. When you straddled his clothed dick, and he kept encouraging you with low grunts and soft moans that were like music to your ears. Or when your tiny hand wrapped around his girth, and you helped him come like he did without a helping hand. My pretty little helper, he had whispered, gotta show you how to use y'r mouth.

"Wrap y'r lips 'round me, baby" you do, but it's hard when he's so big. "Don't worry, I know you'll try y'r best. Now lick down there"

Your tongue travels through a sloppy and slick trail to his underside.

"Yes. God. Run y'r lips along it" Joel's breath hitches. "Fuckin' expert, baby. Keep goin"

You do. Saliva pools in your mouth, and you want to pull out, but he must sense it, so he grabs your hair rougher and keeps you in place.

"Not yet, baby. What's the rush?" he grabs your hand and places it in the base of his cock, stroking your shaking palm. "Ain't no one gonna interrupt us here no more"

You try licking a bit, but it isn't working anymore.

"Here, let me help ya"

Joel's voice comes out strained, but then his pushing your head with his hand by your hair, making it bob at the same time your hand does a move, all in one fluid rush. He's so big and hard, his girth slips from between your lips. Drool runs down your chin as you try to take him all, especially when Joel keeps pulling you closer, thrusting his hips at your messy minstrations, and when you almost cough his cock out, moans sounding more like gasps for air, he forces more inches in, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't turned on by the way you sounded in the verge of suffocation, salty drops mixing with your spit and his precum, lips swollen and doe eyes wide. Chocked sobs and sucking sounds bounce off the walls, aside from his grunting and moaning.

"Needed to have ya', baby" he throws his head back, grip on your hair loosening. "Makin' me feel so good"

It gets to a point where his encouraging leaves a warm feeling in your chest, and your panties dampen as you clasp your thighs together, searching for some friction.

Maybe it's the fact that it's your first, or maybe it's him. Joel, with his closed eyes and open mouth, lips parted as needy groans and ragged moans fall from them. He's so fucking lonely and touched starved, you can't help but feel bad for neglecting him to the point he's taken you hostage in the middle of nowhere just to have you.

A particular thrust of his hips into your face makes his full cock hit the deep of your throat. Your nails dig at the skin of his thick thighs, the suffocating feeling augmenting, but all he does is moan at the burning sensation. And then it comes: the hot white ropes that make your suffocation now feel like drowning, his seed in your throat and dribbling down your chin with silver spurts of saliva. Your eyes fight to stay open, and Joel sees that.

"Sleeping, baby?" he pulls out, and you cough for air, falling to the floor with your hands. "Won't let me thank ya' for 'tis favor?"

Again without giving you room to reply, he's carrying your body like it's nothing, dropping you on the bed as you try to push him off, but his weight pins you down against the soft mattress. Joel chuckles as you squirm, pleadingly. His eyes darken with a primal all-consuming need to have you, fingers digging in your soft thighs as he pulls them apart roughly, your dripping clothed cunt exposed to him. His head dives in, giving your underwear a proud lick. Just like others time, a moan you can't stop falls from your lips, far too learned and reflexive.

"So sweet, sunshine" he whuspers lovingly, "and s'wet. I think you're ready"

Your mouth conjures something akin to a no, but your treacherous folds moisten up, and your cheeks heat up with rage and shame. He rubs his calloused pad on your clothed pussy, hard hand over your stomach.

"Will finally show ya' what'a good dick feels like"

He starts by pushing his fingers in your pussy, smearing the coat of wet slick over his fingers and your walls.

"That's enough" he decides. No sweet caring touches, no preparation and definetely no kisses because you've been a bad girl: ignoring him to favor others, like you don't know he'd die for you. Kill for you. He's devoted to your religion, holding onto you like a prayer, his faith in you the only thing keeping him sane. But maybe he isn't, Joel thinks as he aligns his cock to your puffy entrance and you whimper quietly, because this is your first and instead of taking his time he's shoving himself inside like an animal, too far gone by the possesiveness that chokes him and the pent-up frustration of weeks without your touch and pussy. Now, he'll finally make you his.

Joel throws his head back with a soft groan as his tip enters your soft folds.

"S' gonna hurt" he warns, voiced reduced to a low rumble that tickles your ear. "But you've hurt me too, baby. Hurt me when ya' preferred Jackson over me. 'S alright, we even now" he pushes in forcefully, and you choke out a sob. "I hope 'tis never happens again and you've learned y'r lesson"

His thick and big length goes through your tight walls. A scream dies in your throat, mind blank at the painful burning sensation. You can't even breath, feeling full as he slides in and you try to adjust. You're at his mercy, under him. Joel groans when droplets of blood fall to the sheets, in a more frustrating tune when he can't fully bury himself in since you're too tight, but soon enough Joel picks up a pace, starting his strokes.

"S' tight but so pliant fore'me. Maybe next time, since you such'a dick hungry whore" you whimper at his words, "slurpin' my cock first like a starved slut and now takin' it like a fucken cocksleeve"

He keeps sliding in and out, and there's a point when the burn doesn't feel like a fire but like a warm layer. He holds himself by your hips, his digits bruising the skin as he goes deeper with each thrust. The older man pounds into you, delighted at your responsive mouth, long gone the cries, now replaced by insistent muffled moans.

Your tits bounce under your shirt. Well, his. If he wanted to fuck you, he wanted you to be his. That you smelled like him. Made it clear by your marks and your clothes. You belonged to him, and when he sees your jiggling breasts under the pattern of his flannel, just like he had imagined all those times watching from outside your house, he buries himself to the hilt.

"Sorry, sunshine. Had'a make sure I was your first" but you know damn well he isn't, by the wicked gleam. "Cause you're only mine, you heard that? Gonna ruin this pussy for anyone of those fuckers in town, thinkin' they have a chance with 'cha. What have you told 'em, baby? They thinking they can come and take what's mine. Well, I'll gladly show 'em"

You gasp, pussy gushing inviting as his pelvis slaps against your ass. Joel's mouth falls open as he moans carelessly; in the middle of the forest, being heard is the least of his concerns. Your tight untouched walls wrapping around his aching cock drives him crazy, knowing he was the one taking you.

"Gon' fuck 'tis sweet untainted little cunt 'til it drips with ma' seed"

Your hands instinctively go for his shoulders, and you find yourself lost when his gaze meets yours, eyes completely gone and loosen curls sticking to his damp forehead.

"That's ma' girl" your stomach tightens at his low voice. "Hope you enjoy da' ride, sunshine"

Fuck. Your body trembles, silky walls fluttering and clenching at the new sensation, muscles tense then relaxed, your breathing hitching as a low, guttural sound erupts from Joel's throat, deep inside him as the rumble shakes his panting chest.

"Breath, baby" he removes some strands for your hair.

His cock grinds against your most sensitive spots, and when he feels your pussy clasp around his throbbing length, he knows you're done, desire coursing through his veins as his fingers find your swollen clit. He rubs the sensitive nub in tight, quick circles, his other hand slidibg to cup the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your damp hair as he pulls in for a deep, hungry kiss, swallowing your weak wails.

"Breath" Joel repeats. "I got'cha"

It's like an explosion, your release. Your pussy clenches and spasms around his cock, walls fluttering wildly as you come undone. You now quiver and tremble under him, body overwhelmed, but he doesn't stop to admire his work of art, far too enthralled in the task of coming himself.

"M gonna cum inside of 'cha" warning not question, "you'll be a good girl and take it all, yeah?"

Unexpectedly, Joel captures your lips in a desperate kiss, swallowing your scream as he fuckes you through your climax, tethering close to overestimulations. He grips your hair again, now by the back of your neck, keeping you in place as he devours your mouth, tongue delving deep to taste and feel your sweet flavor.

His orgams hits him like a train, balls tightening and cock throbbing inside your fluttering heat. He slams forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt inside your trembling cunt, finding his own release.

"That's my good girl" Joel purrs, voice a low, satisfied rumble. "Takin' my cum so well, like your pussy was made for it"

He rocks his hips gently, semi-hard cock against your sensitive walls, mixing his hot seed deeper into you. Joel loves, he's so sure of it. How else is he supoposed to describe this all-consuming feeling that forbids him from thinking straight, all reasoning be damned?

"You're mine now, sweetheart" he murmurs, breath hot against your ear. "Forever"

Joel can feel his cock soften inside, but makes no effort to pull out. Instead, he rolls your bodies to the side of the bed, that dips under your combined weight. He spoons you from behind, dick still nestled warmly inside your dripping cum-filled cunt. He drapes his strong arm around your waist, holding you close, alluding the sentiment of never wanting to let you go.

"S'much for takin' you all the way to the fucken woods" your eyes drop, dangerously close to falling. He chuckles at the sight, maybe at the though his cock had tired you this much. "Maybe I'll do it more often if those Jackson fuckers ain't learnt their place"

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @tomhiddles

[navybrat817]

Deep in the Woods: Part 1

Pairing: Soft!Dark Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: A relaxing getaway in the woods may become your permanent home when you catch the eye of a lumberjack.

Series Masterlist | Part 2

Chapter Summary: You encounter your grumpy temporary neighbor while attempting to chop some firewood.

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.3k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, bits of MCU canon, cheating mentioned (reader's ex), grumpy x sunshine trope, invasive behavior, reader is too trusting, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a bit rude at first, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: A new dark AU inspired by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor 's ask. ❤️‍🔥 Thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for cheering me on! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The sun shining in the sky was deceiving as you hauled a large piece of wood to the tree trunk. It was chillier than expected, and the cold would only get worse once the sun went down. Your cabin had heat, but you'd be stuck if it went out and you didn’t manage to chop some firewood. Making a fire you could handle. Chopping wood?

That was another story.

“Okay,” you smiled, setting the log upright and adjusting your gloves before you grabbed the axe. You gripped the handle tight, raising it above your head. “I got this.”

The blade hit the log almost dead center. Unsurprisingly though, it barely pierced the wood. You hunched over, tugging at the axe, nearly losing your balance in the process. “I still got this,” you huffed, shaking out your arms and swinging again.

The next swing went deeper, but only by an inch. The swing after that, you nearly missed completely. Sweat beaded on your forehead, your body warming despite the chill in the air. After a moment, you dropped the axe and stared at the log with your hands on your hips. It was nowhere near split.

“I don’t got this,” you sighed.

“Who the hell are you?” a gruff voice asked from behind you.

Your heart leapt to your throat as you spun around, and it raced even faster when you spotted a figure just a few feet away. He was a large man, and one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. He would likely tower over you if he stepped closer. His dark hair hung messily past his shoulders, while his perfectly trimmed beard gave him a rugged edge. The flannel he wore strained against the biceps of his muscular arms, one of the shades of blue matching his thunderous eyes.

Was he glaring at you?

“Hi,” you smiled, trying to sound friendly as you gestured toward the unchopped log. “I was just trying, and failing, to chop some firewood. I hope I'm not disturbing you.”

He kicked a small twig away with his boot. “I didn't ask what you were doing. I asked, ‘Who the hell are you?’”

Your smile slipped. Maybe he was local and didn't like outsiders, though something about him seemed familiar. “Oh, yeah. Right,” you said, giving him your name and nodding to the cabin nearby. “Mr. Hunter rented the place out to me. I’m staying for a couple of weeks. Just got here this morning.” You hoped the place wasn't double booked.

He relaxed a fraction, but his glare didn't disappear completely as he took out his phone and dialed a number. You heard a ring as he put it on speaker. While he tapped a foot impatiently, you weren't sure what to say or do.

“Howdy, neighbor,” a raspy voice answered on the other end.

“Did you rent out your place?” he asked, keeping his eyes on you when your face got hot. You wanted to yell that you wouldn't lie about something like that, but that didn't seem like a good idea.

“Yeah. Pretty lady. Paid in full upfront. Clean background, too.” You looked at your feet. It was weird to listen in even though it was on speaker. And did he say “clean background”? What did that mean? “Why? Is she-”

The man hung up the phone. “Didn't think he rented his cabin out anymore,” he said more to himself than you.

An awkward silence filled the air. “Yeah, well, apparently he does. I booked it a couple of months ago and he left a code to get in and some instructions for the place,” you explained, trying to smile again as you looked around and breathed in the fresh air. “It’s a really nice place and the view up here is gorgeous, like something out of a photograph. Do you live nearby?”

He grunted and jutted his chin out. “My cabin is the next one over to the left.”

“That’s nice,” you smiled more, grabbing the axe again. “And it was very interesting meeting you, temporary neighbor, but I should try to finish this up.”

Before you could blink, the man was directly in front of you with one hand on the handle. He was even bigger up close. “If you’re thinking of taking another swing at that log, don't,” he barked at you, snatching the axe from your hands. You weren’t sure if it was his tone or him grabbing it from you that made you flinch. “This isn't a toy, it’s dangerous. And from the looks of that log you have no business trying to do that to begin with.”

Your cheeks burned again. It was bad enough that this guy didn't take your word for staying at the cabin, but the last thing you needed was for some stranger to lecture or humiliate you, and a grumpy one at that. “Yeah, well, if my cheating asshole of a boyfriend hadn't been balls deep in his colleague, we wouldn't be having this conversation. He'd be out here chopping firewood and I’d be inside cooking, which is something I'm actually good at, thank you very much,” you snapped.

Your tone surprised him enough to let you take the axe back. “I didn't…” he trailed off when you held up a hand.

“You don't know me and that’s fine, but I’m trying to be friendly and that's more than you can say,” you continued, his nostrils flaring. He didn't have to be nice to you, but he didn't need to be rude either. “And not that it’s any of your business, but I'm stuck here by myself, I’m trying my best to make it work, and I don't need some random stranger out here giving me a hard time for no reason.”

Your eyes burned as he stared at you, but you squared your shoulders and held your head high. You spent enough time crying over a prick who wasn’t worth it and you refused to shed another tear because you deserved better than an unfaithful asshole. And you sure as hell wouldn't cry in front of some hot grump with a chip on his shoulder.

The man’s pensive look dissipated more of your sudden anger and his tone softened considerably when he asked, “You’re really out here by yourself?”

You tensed up. It wasn't smart of you to broadcast that you were all by your lonesome. “Yeah, for now,” you said, your voice softer, too. Maybe you could convince a friend to stop by for a day or so. “I know I’m not good with an axe, but I tried. I just wanted some firewood in case the heat went out for any reason,” you said, your shoulders sagging. “So if you don't mind, can I please finish up?”

He nodded, taking the axe more gently this time. “Let me,” he offered, your eyes wide at his change in demeanor. “And step back. I don't want you to get hurt.”

Once you moved out of the way, he lifted the axe and split the log down the middle with expert precision. With his view on the task at hand, you swept an appreciative gaze over him. The guy was a bit of a grump, but he filled his jeans out well. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, mister,” you told him, getting a grunt in response. “My problems aren't your problems and I didn't mean to get so defensive about my lack of wood chopping skills.”

“You can call me Bucky,” he said, grabbing another log. “And nothing to be sorry for. I didn't exactly lay out the welcome mat for you.”

“It’s… Wait, Bucky.” Your eyes widened in realization. “Bucky Barnes?”

He froze before he brought the axe down again. “Heard of me?”

“Of course I have. You helped save the world,” you smiled. Years back, an alien warlord had wiped out half of the population. Not only did a group of heroes called the Avengers help reverse the wipeout, but they stopped the monster with the help of many others across the galaxy. Bucky was one of those people. No wonder he seemed so familiar. “You’re a hero.”

A tortured one at that. You remembered seeing a few articles about him. A former prisoner of war turned brainwashed assassin turned hero. He was pardoned for the crimes committed while was brainwashed, and rightfully so in your opinion, and he went on to use his skills and expertise to help others.

What was he doing out here in the woods?

“Not really a hero anymore,” he said, brushing his hair back with his forearm. “Now I’m just a lumberjack who values his privacy.”

“Oh.” That answered your question. “I guess valuing your privacy explains why you didn't roll out the welcome mat,” you teased, wringing your fingers together. You felt kind of bad again for snapping at him. Given his past that you were aware of, it made sense why he would've been suspicious of someone new popping up near his home.

He stopped to glance at you. “Guess it’s my turn to apologize,” he said.

You blinked, not wanting to lose yourself in his deep gaze. “No need. I figured you were just a local who didn't like new people around.” You smiled at the pile of wood he made. “I think you chopping firewood for me is the perfect apology. You saved me a lot of time and trouble.”

He hummed, putting the blade in the tree trunk once he finished. “You said you cook?” he asked, wiping his gloves on his jeans as he faced you.

“Yeah. I actually have a stew keeping warm right now,” you replied, shifting on your feet when he stared you down. “Are you hungry? I made plenty.”

“Sure,” he shrugged.

“Okay.” Your smile faltered when you walked toward the cabin with Bucky close behind. Was it a good idea to invite him in when you didn't exactly know him? The guy was a hero though. No reason to be suspicious.

The aroma of seasonings, beef, and vegetables greeted you as you opened the door and set your gloves on the entry table. “If you don’t mind taking your boots off, that was one of the instructions,” you told him, removing yours and hanging your coat on the hook.

While the cabin wasn’t large, it was in great condition. It was also extremely clean and tidy. The guy who owned it likely didn’t want dirt on his floors.

“Yeah, God’s kind of picky about that stuff,” Bucky said, putting his gloves on top of yours. You caught a glimpse of his metal hand, but you quickly looked away. It wasn’t polite to stare.

“Wait. The G in G.B. Hunter stands for God?” Your brows pinched as you walked toward the kitchen. “What the hell does the B stand for?” you muttered to yourself.

“That’s really what it stands for. He’s a bit of a strange guy, but a good neighbor when he’s here,” Bucky said, following close again. He was practically on top of you. “So, your boyfriend. He-”

“Ex-boyfriend,” you corrected him, inhaling deeply as you lifted the lid from the warm pot. The scent brought a smile to your face and pushed a bit of the bitterness away. “What about him?”

Bucky grabbed a couple of bowls from the cupboard. He knew where the spoons were, too, so he was at least somewhat familiar with the place. You weren’t sure how that made you feel. “How long were you two together?”

“Almost a year,” you replied. A waste of about twelve months and it wouldn't be fun to start over again.

He set the bowls on the counter before he grabbed a couple of drinks, sweeping a look over you. “Did you catch him cheating?” he asked curiously.

You froze, the image of your ex scrambling to cover himself and his colleague up as you walked in taking over your mind. You had to blink multiple times to make the image go away, but it didn’t stop your stomach from turning. “Yep,” you answered, your throat tight. Why did he want to know? “Tried to give me some lame excuse that it wasn't what it looked like, but I slapped him and said we were done. I can forgive a lot of things, but cheating isn’t one of them.”

“Loyalty is a good trait to want in a partner,” he mused.

“It is, but it’s a trait he didn't have apparently. At least we didn’t live together,” you continued, taking a breath. It hurt and felt good to talk about it. “We were supposed to come up here for a getaway and I debated cancelling the reservation, but I figured it would be a good way to clear my head.”

The kitchen felt warmer and you figured it was because you were close to the stove until you realized Bucky was right at your back. You went rigid when he inhaled. Maybe he was just smelling the food. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

You gripped the ladle until your hand ached. “Not your fault,” you whispered, keeping perfectly still. If you moved forward, the stove would burn you. If you moved back, you’d be right against him. It was a small kitchen, but there was no reason for him to stand so close.

You didn’t exhale until he moved to set the drinks on the table. “You got a job?” he asked.

Clearing your throat, you nodded, thankful for the change in topic. “Yeah, data entry. Not too exciting, but it’s decent pay and I don’t have to go into an office or deal with traffic.” You scooped a generous portion of stew into a bowl for him, just in case he was really hungry. “As long as I have my laptop and an internet connection, I can get the job done.”

“Must be nice,” he commented, but it sounded more admirable than sarcastic. “You said you and your ex didn’t live together. Do you have a roommate? Pets?”

You side-eyed him. The tone was casual, but what was with the multiple questions? “I live alone because my apartment is about the size of a shoebox,” you said. It was cozy though and yours. “Nice thing is the rent is cheap. Sad thing is the building is pet free.”

He took out his phone as you got your bowl ready. “I have a cat,” he said, shoving the phone close to your face. It was a photo of a beautiful white cat sitting by a window. It was endearing picturing a burly man holding such a delicate creature. “Her name’s Alpine.”

You smiled at the image. “She’s really beautiful. I’ve always loved cats.”

He smiled a little, too, but it went away as fast as it appeared. “She’s very particular with people, but you’re welcome to meet her.” He took the bowl from your hand to carry them to the small table nearby. “She might like you since you’re sweet.”

Heat rolled up your neck. “That’s nice of you to offer, but I wouldn’t want to impose,” you said. It wasn’t like you had any plans during your time there, but he had done enough by chopping the firewood for you.

His jaw ticked. “If it was an imposition I wouldn't have asked.”

“Oh, I wasn't trying to imply anything,” you promised, your stomach twisting in knots. It wasn't your intention to upset him.

“Are you allergic to cats?”

“No, I’m not,” you answered.

He set the bowls on the table and leveled you with a hard stare. “Then I think you should meet her,” he said, pulling out a chair for you. It sounded more like an order than a suggestion. “Sit.”

You hesitated before you sat down. “Okay then,” you said. Maybe he was trying to make up for being rude earlier by welcoming you in some capacity. “Does tomorrow work?”

His lip curled up in a smile, giving you a nod, too. “Tomorrow. Early afternoon,” he replied, taking a seat. How did he still look so big sitting down? You watched him blow on a spoonful of stew before he took a bite, his eyes shutting with a groan. It was a deep, primal sound and you shouldn't have liked hearing it. “This is… really good.”

You beamed, unable to help yourself. You took pride in your cooking. “I’m glad you like it,” you said, digging in, too. “So, you said you’re a lumberjack now. How long have you been doing that?”

He hunched over a bit as he took a few more bites, like he hadn't eaten all day. “About nine months. Tough mission happened and I had to walk away from it.” He shrugged dismissively. Did the mission have a bad outcome or was it just the straw that broke the camel’s back? It wasn’t any of your business. “Came out to the woods with Alpine, started chopping down trees to work out some of my frustration, and it somehow became my new job. The woods suit me better than the city anyway.”

“Yeah? How so?”

He shrugged again. “It’s quiet, peaceful. No judging or prying eyes,” he answered, pushing the now empty bowl away. It almost sounded like he was hiding from the world. “And I don’t mind working with my hands. Can chop trees down pretty fast and it doesn’t take long to get the logs to the sawmill. Even built some of my own furniture in my place.”

“You build your own furniture? That’s so cool,” you smiled. It took a moment, but he smiled back a little. “Being a lumberjack sounds like hard but satisfying work,” you added. You admired him for being a hero, but also for his new, humble lifestyle.

“Yeah, it is.” He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his stomach. “This might be rude to ask, but you wouldn’t mind making us lunch tomorrow, would you? I can cook, but it’s nothing like yours.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Part of you took it as a compliment that he liked your cooking, but something in his stare made you want to squirm. Could it be the assumption that you were going to have lunch with him when all he said was that he wanted you to meet his cat? “I don’t mind,” you smiled. Maybe the guy was a bit lonely and just wanted someone to share a meal with. You could sympathize with that. “Anything in particular you like? If I don’t have it, I can go to town and-”

“Surprise me, doll.” The chair scraped along the floor as he pushed himself up, towering over the table and you. “And don’t bother going to town. Whatever you have here to cook, I’ll eat it.”

“I’ll surprise you then.” Your brows pinched as he went back to the kitchen. He walked around like he owned the place. “Oh, help yourself,” you said when he stopped at the stove for another bowl.

He paused to look back at you. His blue eyes looked a shade darker and you couldn’t help but shiver. “I plan to,” he stated.

You gave him a smile, discreetly patting your pants pocket to make sure you still had your phone on you. It wasn’t like you needed to call anyone for help, but you were all alone and had to be careful. You were still going to have a nice time though. It would be a relaxing trip and you could catch up on reading, relaxing, whatever you wanted.

Besides, Bucky was nearby just in case. The guy didn’t seem to have a complete sense of boundaries, but he wasn’t a bad guy. He was a hero. You didn’t have anything to fear.

Right?

Oh, our reader did herself no favors by answering truthfully that she's all alone. I wonder how Bucky will play this... Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[dykeriver]

thinking about ellie coming across an old adult store as she hikes just outside an abandoned quarantine zone. curiosity wins, because of course it does, and she needs to look. just a peep, only for a moment. but a peep turns into scavenging, and scavenging soon turns into successfully finding a little sealed package in a box in the back of the store.

she knows what it is, she’s a grown woman, but obviously there’s never really been the time or place during her adult life to have been able to explore that particular aspect of herself so… intensely. ellie stares at the box for a second before deciding, fuck it. she rips off the top of the package and flips it upside down, shaking it. the… toy falls onto the table in front of her followed by a little instruction manual. she knows what to do in theory but she grabs at the instructions anyway, bending them a bit as she skims quickly. shut it — she’s just a bit eager, okay?

so she… and then she… nice. and she’s lucky, because this one doesn’t call for batteries. ellie just hopes that the power will have held up for all these years.

she secures the store and makes herself comfortable relatively fast, throwing one of her extra flannels onto the ground before pulling her jeans to her ankles and taking a seat on top of her shirt. she’s a little intimidated, so she doesn’t strip out of her boxers. ellie holds the button in for about five seconds before it vibrates to life, a gentle thrum sounding alongside her breathing in the otherwise empty store.

she just stares at it for a moment before braving the whole… opening her legs thing. don’t get ellie wrong — she’s touched herself before. hell, she’s even had sex a few times. but a vibrator is a whole new ball field. it thrums against her hand and it actually tickles a little bit. the lithe muscles of ellie’s thigh flex as she opens her legs, and she takes a deep, soothing breath. finally she brings down her hand, and…

what. the. fuck.

the vibrator buzzes against her clit gently and she gasps, the feeling immediately too much. ellie almost pulls it away, not knowing if she wants to press into or away from it. she rests her back against the floor, because she needs to fucking lay down for this shit. “hhh…” she breathes quietly.

ellie accidentally hits the button again, and she fucking gasps. the toy is humming louder, vibrating harder. “ha-” she moans before she can shut herself up. she knows she must be making an absolute mess of her boxers, can feel herself soaking right through the thin material. it feels fucking good, so incredibly overwhelming that her free hand keeps clenching uselessly against the ground. ellie brings it to the flannel underneath her, needing something to latch onto for support.

and oh, how ellie feels is unlike anything she’s ever felt before. a fire grows low in her belly, intense, building heat rapidly. the heat spreads all throughout her body and her toes curl in her sneakers. she chokes over a half held back whine. the feeling burns and burns until ellie thinks she’s going to fucking melt.

when she cums, she throws her hand over her mouth, sobbing into it. her orgasm is more intense than she ever could have expected; she feels it in her fingers, in her legs. in her fucking bones, man. she’s trembling everywhere, shaking like a leaf as it’s swept through the wind. ellie’s head knocks against the ground in overexertion, she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding it up.

when she comes down from that high, ellie just kind of… lays there a second. because, yanno. best orgasm of her life just achieved. she inhales deeply and then blows out a gust of air, chest deflating. eventually she’s got to get back on her feet, pulling her jeans back up and picking the flannel off of the floor before chugging some much needed water.

and ellie thinks she does a pretty good job at ignoring the weird, hollow, lonely feeling that grips her chest as she leaves the store: hiking into the unknown. alone.

[mattysangelgirl]

ᝰ.ᐟ . . . 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐁𝐎𝐘!𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁 ⸝⸝ requested

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ⚠︎ smut, cowgirl position, creaming, dom!chris, petnames (sweetheart, sweet thing, sweetie pie), etc

“fu—ck sweet thing.. ridin’ me s’good, yeah?” you moan as you grind yourself onto him, your ass resting on his hips.

your hips roll in the most perfect way, not only for him, but for you. his length brushed across every sensitive spot as his cock rubbed against your gushy walls, pleasure rushing through you, you felt like you had a sugar high.

your mind was blank while you mindlessly fucked yourself on him, and chris was enjoying this so much. he loved watching how you went so dumb just from some dick, but it wasn’t just some dick to him, it was his dick, his dick that made you feel so good that you couldn’t even think of your own name anymore.

“you’re so pretty sweetheart” you just moan before practically plopping down on his chest, holding onto the flannel for support as you started to bounce, and that was the biggest mistake you ever made.

it felt so incredible before, but now it was somehow better? your moans became louder as you bounced, desperate for more despite the already overwhelming pleasure boiling in your tummy.

“ridin’ me better than you were ridin’ that bull sweetie pie” the whole reasoning of you riding him was because he got hard from you riding the mechanical bull, but your whole plan of ruining him back fired, because you ruined yourself first.

everything you did on the bull was on purpose. arching your back a little extra, and sticking your ass out as you leaned forward. the little “surprised” moans you let out when it turned, squirming around on the machine. you wanted him to get hard from it, and you succeeded.

“sweetheart fucked ‘erself dumb, shhit— just my little stupid girl, hm?” you had no response, you could only think of how bad you wanted to cum, and chris took notice to this. he could tell by the look in your eyes, the sounds you made, your eagerness, it was all signs he knew very well.

“jus’ nod then y’can cum, kay sweetie pie?” it took you a second, but you listened, managing to nod your head. not long after, your orgasm followed. you squeezed him as tight as you could, white creamy liquid leaking from your hole and forming a white ring at his base.

“got a lil’ creamer today.. jus’ keep bein’ a good girl like this and hopefully you can do that more often..”

𝐱𝐨𝐱𝐨, 𝐦𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐚 -`♡´-

𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 , 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐔

[elysianightsss]

Okay I know this trope has been done time and time again but it’s a fuckingggg classic okay? Okay.

Best friend Johnny who keeps a photo of you in his pocket so he can remind himself what he is fighting to get home to.

Best friend Johnny who’s face lights up as soon as he sees you waiting for him at the airport with one of them big signs saying Johnny on it. It looks like you spent a lot of time hand decorating it.

Best friend Johnny who doesn’t argue when you ask him to stay at your house his first night home, he simply smiles with a nod because why would he ever refuse you.

Best friend Johnny who already has some of his clothes in your drawers for whenever he stays over. Brought over a duffle bag full of some a while ago and just stared filling your drawers.

Best friend Johnny who snoops around after he gets out the shower to see if you’d gotten any new toys while he was away. (You had) he grins while inspecting the new one, not a vibrator this time. No this one was moulded like a real man, very detailed he noticed. He would never tell you how he held it next to his to see the size difference.

Best friend Johnny who grins at you when he comes out of your room freshly cleaned and in new clothes to find you in one of his shirts and just underwear, dancing to the ABBA songs you were playing through Alexa.

Best friend Johnny who dances with you just so he had an excuse to have his hands on you. And oh boy does he, his thick fingers running over your body. Hot breath on your neck as you both laugh.

Best friend Johnny who feels on cloud nine while he makes dinner with you, the domesticity of it all making him yearn for more. The way you’re both moving around each other, flowing and fitting in with each other perfectly.

Best friend Johnny who even though is eating the same thing as you, still tries to feed you with an “Op’n up fa me lass.” Spoon in hand resting softly against your lips waiting patiently for you to accept, “K’mon bonnie.”

Best friend Johnny whose face drops when you tell him all about the date you had been on with a complete and utter douchebag while he was away. You don’t notice the way he freezes at your words, you don’t see the fire behind his eyes.

Best friend Johnny who finally finds the courage within him to say you don’t need to date anyone. You have him. He’s yours, always have been bonnie.

Best friend Johnny who goes crazy when you finally let him touch you. Desperately laps at your pussy, clit swollen and aching as the Scot wraps his lips around it wanting nothing more than to show you how well he can take care of you. How quick he can make you cum all over his tongue.

Best friend Johnny who is the best fuck you’ve ever had in your life. He’s all over you, he’s in your every thought, your every breath. You feel him in your throat when he slides his thick cock into your slick pussy. You’re dripping a mixture of cum and Johnny’s spit.

Best friend Johnny who’s so hot the way he’s desperate for it, pathetically desperate to slap his hips against your ass. The shlick shlick shlick sounds loud in the air with the way his heavy balls slap against your clit sending rolls of pleasure through you with each thrust. “Fuck lass, so pretty! Do ye ken what ye do to me? Dis wee cunt is addictive!”

Best friend Johnny who makes love to you well into the early hours of the morning. You’re a complete dishevelled mess by the time he’s done. Hickies anywhere his mouth could reach, hand marks on your hips, hair a mess, drool on your chin, throat dry and sore from screaming his name and your cunt dripping with his cum. But you fall asleep satisfied with a smile on your swollen lips.

Boyfriend Johnny who kisses you softly all over, whispering praises and I love yous into your skin as he uses a warm flannel to wipe away the sweat and cum from your body.

Boyfriend Johnny who makes you breakfast in bed, all your favourites and some pieces of fruit for healthiness. Who delivers it to you on your bamboo tray, an apron wrapped around him that says ‘I’m cute’ on the front. His naked arse out of full display.

Boyfriend Johnny that watches you eat with a smile on your face and happiness bubbling in his chest.

[nightbornangel]

you’ll braid my hair, babe.. ♡

you were sat crosslegged in front of the fireplace in the cabin you and joel called home. you always felt safe and calm around him and knew he would protect you, he was like your prince charming — just a little greyer and older.

joel sat behind you, running his calloused hands gently over your shoulders. “cmon baby, gimmie that little ribbon.” the warm flames of the fire cast gentle shadows on your face in the dim light of the living room, you felt cozy and loved - all dolled up in a pretty little set joel had found for you. you slipped the white ribbon into joels waiting hand. “braid please.” you asked sweetly.

joel planted a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “good girl.” he praised, he loved hearing your manners — you preened at his praise. his glasses sat low on his nose as he concentrated thoroughly on braiding your hair. he hadn’t done it in a while, his thick fingers fumbled over your soft strands of hair a little but he got it eventually. “cmon up.” he said softly, patting his lap after tying the end of your braid with a little bow.

you giggled sweetly and hopped onto his lap, snuggling up against his big chest. “thank you daddy.” joel smiles against your temple, leaving a soft kiss there, his big hand grips your asscheek. a small whine escapes your lips as you rock gently against his meaty thigh. “whatcha so squirmy for babygirl?” he chuckles, nipping your earlobe — almost like a dog would to its puppy.

his large hand cupped your cunt through your silky shorts, almost like a warning. “you hurtin’ here pretty baby?” he asked, pushing the heel of his palm into your clit drawing a needy moan from your throat. “yeah that’s it, daddy’ll take care of ya.” he grunted, sliding his fingers past the seam of your underwear. you shyly buried your head into his chest, a small whimper escaping your lips when his fingers swirled around your clit with precision — he played with your body like it was a special instrument. he knew you too well.

you gripped onto his flannel, bucking your hips into his hand as he stroked along your slit knowing exactly where to touch to make you squirm and whimper in his grasp. “attagirl” he praised. “d-daddy..!” you yelped as he slid two fingers into your tight heat, curling them just right to feel that little gummy spot inside you that made you squeal. “fuckin’ look atcha, creamin’ all over daddy’s fingers” he chuckled. your eyes rolled back as he pumped his thick fingers in and out of your little hole. “daddy ‘m gonna cum.” you moaned, gripping onto his shoulder as tight as possible. he punched his fingers against your g-spot a few more times before you let go, pearly cream leaking out around his fingers. “yeahhh good girl.” he cooed. “look so pretty when ya cum princess.” licking off your tangy arousal from his fingers.

oh how you adored your old man..

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Caught In the Act✨

Pre-outbreak! Joel Miller x Roommate! fem reader

A/N: Thank you to @littlevenicebitch69 for showing me that video that sparked the inspiration for this fic 😘 No beta, but I had so much fun writing this one!

Summary: Thinking you’re home alone, you decide to unwind in bed, but the last thing you expect is to have Joel Miller, the man you’re renting a room from, find you naked in bed.

Word Count: 4.1k

Rating: Explicit 18+ Only MDNI

Tags: Vibrator use, porn with plot, yearning, feelings, infatuation, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, dirty talk, roommates

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The sunlight trickles against the sheer curtains as the room swelters with heat. The buzzing sounds fill the bedroom as your hips rock against the silk sheets, your fingers curling with every meticulous circle the vibrator makes against your swollen clit. 

   “Joel,” you moan freely, knowing he isn’t home, not at this hour of the day. It’s just you and your breathy whispers of his name, pretending the vibrator is his thick fingers stifling an orgasm from your needy clit, pretending the dampening sheets are his greying tousled curls as you tug and pull, pretending his large tongue is consuming you entirely as another moan slips from your lips.

   You shouldn’t be thinking about the man you’re renting a room from like this, shouldn’t be moaning his name while your vibrator is pressed firmly against your bundle of nerves, but you just can’t help yourself. He’s just so hot the way his veiny hands open whiskey bottles as his strong muscles clench tight around his button-up flannels he always looks so damn good in. And he’s so fucking sexy the way he smirks while his Southern drawl falls from his plush lips every single time he talks to you with those big brown eyes that you just want to sink into. You can’t help but want him all the time, even though you really shouldn’t.

   “Ohhh, fuck,” you whine as you hit that spot, right where it feels like you’re about to shed your orgasm at any second. So you speed up your motions, pressing down harder as you moan his name again, letting it fall off your lips like he’s here with you now, like he’s taking you exactly how you like it. 

   You’re breathing so hard and focusing on your ragged breaths and the sounds of the whirring vibrator that you don’t even hear the door being jarred open or see the brooding man that stands against your bedroom door. You don’t notice until you hear that thick, undeniable voice that only belongs to one man. That man being Joel fucking Miller.

   “Jesus Christ, sweetheart. Moanin’ my name and I ain’t even touchin’ you? Must want it bad,” he chuckles, a large smirk pressed on his mouth as he leans with crossed arms against your painted door frame.

   You jump from the sudden intrusion and shut the vibrator off, panting and sweating from your almost orgasm as you work to throw the covers over your naked body. “Jesus, Joel! I didn’t know you were home. I'm sorry… I.” Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to happen, he wasn’t supposed to see you like this! 

   He stops you mid sentence, holding up his large palm as he clears his throat. “Ain’t gotta apologize, sweetheart. Why don’t you just carry on? Besides, I could hear you moanin’ my name the moment I stepped in the house. Not gonna lie, it kinda turned me on. And then walkin’ in and seein’ this? Well, jus’ pull those covers back and let me see that pretty glistenin’ pussy. You want a little assistance there?” he nods, eyes darkening into black pits as you see the outline of his hard cock beneath his worn jeans. 

   You swallow and choke on your own spit, eyes widening as you slowly reveal your slick center to him once again as you spread your legs wide. “There ya go, sweetheart. Look at how fuckin’ wet you are. Goddamn,” he groans as he rakes a large hand slowly over his greying scruff. “Go on, be a good girl and turn the vibrator back on for me,” he replies in a raspy tone that sets your core on fire.

   You slowly press the button, letting the vibrations slow your pounding heart rate as you stare up at the man you’ve been dreaming about from the moment you stepped foot into this house. “You want me to…”

   He nods, dropping his jaw open as he takes in just how wet you already are for him. “Yeah, put it back on that pretty clit, sweetheart. Wanna see.”

   Your mouth parts open the moment you place it on your throbbing mound, your mouth dropping open as you gaze up into pitch black eyes that want to consume you whole. You hold in a moan, spreading your legs wider as the vibrator circles against your puffy clit, but what feels even better is Joel standing there drinking down the image of you getting yourself off while he watches. 

   “Goddamn, darlin’. Look at you,” he whistles, untucking his flannel shirt from his jeans as he stalks over to the edge of the bed, kicking his boots off as his body weight makes the bed cave as he crawls on top of the sheets.

   “Joel,” you whine, watching his big black eyes come closer as he props himself up beside you, one hand coming down on top of yours while the other tucks a lock of hair behind your ear.

   “Let me jus’ give you a hand there, sweetheart. Let me take control,” he growls, grabbing onto the end of the vibrator as he presses it further into your folds, circling slow, meticulous circles as he draws a breathy moan from you. 

   “That’s it, Attagirl,” he praises as your back arches off the bed, taking the vibrator a level up as he grinds it against your slick folds.

   “Ooooh, fuck,” you whine, twisting your fingers into the soft material of his flannel while his gorgeous face hangs just over yours, his big eyes making another wave of slick slip from your center.

   “Feels good, don’t it? Yeah, right there,” he purrs as he pushes it down close to your dripping hole, hitting that one special spot that makes your legs start to shake.

   “Yes, Joel. Please, don’t stop,” you beg as you grip his forearm with a tight fist.

   “I’m not gonna stop till that pretty pussy’s soakin’ my hand, sweetheart,” he smirks, turning the vibrations up even higher as your body hums with electricity from his touch. “If I would’ve known sooner that you’ve been wantin’ this, I would’ve already been on my knees with my mouth between your thighs,” he groans as another moan comes crashing through the room.

   You start to feel the coils snap in your belly, and then hot heat starts to slide down your spine as your orgasm starts to break. “Joel, I’m not gonna - fuck, I’m coming!” you scream as you let the floodgates open and latch on to his veiny wrist.

   “Jesus Chris, you’re fuckin’ soakin’ me,” he says in awe as slick sprays from your pussy, coating his hand in your release as your back arches off the mattress and your body hums with your intense orgasm. Joel works you through it, calling you a good girl as he shuts the vibrator off and just slowly circles it over your aching center until you’re coherent enough to open your eyes and breathe normally again.

   He throws the vibrator to the side and slides a calloused hand carefully from your neckline, in between your breasts, skating down your abdomen, and ending right above your mound. He smiles down at you as he takes his time to ghost his fingers over your soaked folds, stifling a whimper from your lips as he hovers over your puffy clit. 

   “You look so pretty comin’ undone, darlin’. Wanna see it again, this time wanna really feel it.” He presses the pad of his thumb down on your bundle of nerves, drawing meticulous circles, making you cant your hips up as you soak in the way his fingers feel like pure magic. 

   “Oh god, please,” you beg, throwing your head back as he slips a finger inside your dripping hole. 

   “I got you, sweetheart. Gonna make you feel real good now, jus’ hold tight.” Before you know what’s coming, he crashes his lips down on yours and swallows a moan as he curls another finger inside, stretching your walls as he reaches that soft spongy spot that you can never reach yourself.

   You lean into the kiss, breathing in his woodsy scent, tasting the sweat of the Austin sun on his lips, feeling the way he slips his tongue inside your mouth and swallows every sound you make while he repeatedly fucks his fingers deep inside your pussy, making you feel like you’re floating on thin air. 

   You wrap your arms around his neck, pushing your fingers through his dark tousled curls as a groan leaves his lips and enters your mouth while he repeatedly takes the breath from your lips. He licks inside you while his thick fingers make wet, obscene sounds as he fucks deeper, uncoiling that same tension he already snapped just minutes ago as he repeats the process all over again.

   He unhooks from your lips, finds a steady rhythm as he slips from your hole and full on rocks his fingers up and down your folds, brushing the heel of his wrist over your puffy clit that screams for him to take you over the edge again. 

   The room is suddenly too hot with his weight on your chest, his expert fingers moving at an impossibly fast pace as your core burns hot and bright, begging for him to make you come again.

   “Jesus, fuck - I’m right there. God, it feels so fucking good, Joel,” you stifle as your jaw slackens and your body starts to vibrate the more his fingers work and work at your core. 

   He slips two fingers back inside you, hitting that one spot that makes you see stars, and then he’s whispering filthy words against your parted lips. “Such a good fuckin’ girl lettin’ me use these fingers on that pretty pussy, wonder what you’d feel like takin’ my cock next,” he smirks as he nips at your bottom lip, pulling another moan from your throat. 

   “Please, Joel,” you beg.

   “Is that an invitation, sweetheart?” he chuckles, raising a thick eyebrow as he looks you deep in the eyes with those beautiful brown eyes that are blown wide.

   “Yes, want your cock, Joel. Want you to - oh, fill me up - fuck,” you whine as you feel your release start to flow down your insides. 

   “Yeah, fuckin’ spill for me, that’s it. Atta fuckin’ girl,” he growls as he presses deep inside that spongy spot, and then you’re completely done for. The slick pools down your core, covering Joel’s knuckles and the inside of your thighs as the orgasm takes a hold and knocks your head back against the cotton pillow.

   “That’s it. So pretty, baby,” he coos as he works you through it once again. 

   The fog fills your brain as every euphoric feeling takes its hold on you, holding you down against the damp sheets as you focus on the man that hangs above you. When you finally come to your senses, Joel uncurls his fingers from your core and pops the digits into his mouth, sucking and groaning as he indulges in your sweet taste. 

   “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you taste better than a shot of whiskey,” he groans as he delves his fingers back inside you, collecting slick on the tips of his calloused fingers and brings it up to your lips. “Open up, sweetheart. Try a taste,” he purrs.

   You part your lips and allow him to enter. You take his two fingers and suck, glancing at him with glazed over eyes as your sweet taste slides down the back of your throat. 

   “Goddamn. That’s picture worthy, sweetheart. You suckin’ on my fingers while you lick off your own slick? Jesus Christ, you’re gonna fuckin’ ruin me,” he murmurs as he looks at you with wide, blown out eyes.

   You giggle as you tip your head up, wrapping your fingers around the collar of his flannel as you tug, pulling just enough to expose a trail of dark chest hair that’s saturated in sweat. “Just like you’ll ruin me. But I’m okay with that. Just need you right now,” you pant out, popping open more of the buttons of his flannel until he gets the hint and throws it off, exposing his broad, muscular chest that’s beaded in glistening sweat, and his happy trail disappears under the material of his dark jeans.

   “You want me inside you, sweetheart?” he whispers as you hurriedly unbuckle his belt and start popping open the top button. 

   “Yes, want your cock inside me. Please, I need you,” you beg as he smiles down at you with glossy brown eyes.

   “Need me to fill you up? Want me to fuck you nice ‘n deep?” he smirks as he unzips his jeans and slides them off his legs, his boxers following swiftly after.

   You gulp as his massive cock springs up against his soft tummy, taking in just how big he is as precum spills from the slit. You gawk at him when he wraps a hand around his large length and starts spreading the precum up and down his shaft meticulously. 

   “Mhm,” is all you can get out as you watch him stroke himself up and down. Fuck. 

   “Spread those legs then, sweetheart,” he smirks as he positions himself right between your legs. You can only whine and knead your breasts together as he takes the tip and slides it along your folds, collecting slick on his swollen tip that’s red and throbbing just for you. He rubs it along your overstimulated clit and chuckles when you pant his name out. 

   “So fuckin’ beautiful,” he drawls as he positions himself at the entrance of your sopping wet hole. “Such a messy girl, too. All this for me? Goddamn. Gonna fill you up real good.” Before you have time to say anything, he thrusts inside you, filling you so full as you gasp at the wide stretch he makes.

   “Jesus Christ, you’re tight, darlin’. Jus’ needed this big cock to stretch you out, s’that right?” he groans, caging you in with his muscular arms as he ruts deeper inside you, filling you to the brim with every languid stroke of his massive cock.

   You throw your head back, clawing your nails down his broad back as you moan nonsense while he generously slides his thick length back and forth, slipping out just enough to ram back inside you with a sting to your insides as his tip continually kisses the back of your cervix. 

   It’s like you can’t get enough, need more of him, need every inch of his skin to crawl into yours as he takes you to the edge again. You’ve never felt a stretch like this, never been so cock hungover, not until Joel fucking Miller slipped inside you, and you’re afraid you won’t ever get enough of him now. 

   “More,” you beg, panting from every motion of the snap of his hips, moaning every time he’s deep inside your clenched walls, splitting them open with every single rutting motion he gives.

   “You want more, sweetheart? I’ll give you more. Yeah, give you jus’ what you want,” he smirks as he bends your knees up, folding you into a pancake shape as he crawls over you with his beautiful, broad body. “Careful what you ask for. Might not be able to take it,” he chuckles, eyes darkening with trouble written all over them. 

   He spears inside you, thrusting so deep that you swear you feel him inside your stomach, hitting that spongy spot that makes you gasp as your back arches off the damp sheets. “Fuckkkk,” you moan, your voice carrying through the entire room as his deep grunts collide with yours.

   “Yeah, s’right. Take it,” he growls, nipping at your collarbone as your fingers fist in his tousled curls. “Be a good girl and come on my cock,” he demands as his hips thrust violently against yours.

   You have no more control. The room is heavy and hot as your musk and sweat collect over the other, your fingers dragging down his back as you clench up and let your sweet release slip out, coating him in your slick. “Joel, feels - fuck, I’m coming,” you moan into the shell of his ear.

   He stills his thrusts for a few seconds, feeling your walls clench around his cock as you start to soak him, the flow not stopping even as you tilt your head back and scream from the blistering heat that settles in your core.

   “Oh, that’s a good fuckin’ girl. Squeezin’ so tight, milkin’ me with that slippery cum, Jesus Christ,” he moans as he thrusts back into you, not wasting a moments time as he chases his own release.

   You settle into a fog, his deep pants and groans reverberating off the walls as his heavy hands settle on your hips, fucking into you so deep that you feel drunk and so full of him that you swear you should be satiated, but you’re not. You’d let him pump you full of his cock all night in every different position, if only you could continue to do this night after night.

   “‘M not gonna last, sweetheart. Where do you want me?” He grinds his teeth together in concentration as he tries to hold it in just a little longer.

   “Inside me. Fill me up, handsome,” you purr.

   His jaw ticks, and something like fire lights in his glossy eyes, and a devilish smirk forms on his plush lips as he thrusts once, twice, three more times and then pounds you as hard as he can. He leans his forehead against yours and lets out a guttural groan, feeling the white ropes of cum paint the back of your cervix as he gushes all inside you.

   “Fuck me,” he moans, not willing to move till he has all of him spilled inside your walls. He slowly pulls out of you, and you feel the warmth of your own slick and his release mix together as it gushes outside your pussy and down your thighs.

   “Look at you, such a pretty little mess you are, ain’t ya,” he smiles, staring at your legs splayed wide as he dips a finger down against folds, collecting the mixed cum together on his index finger. “Open up, pretty girl,” he smirks.

   He takes his index finger and slots it between your glossy lips, letting you lick and suck on his finger. You swear his eyes widen even further as his black pupils expand into pure lust. “So good,” you moan, wrapping your lips around his finger as you tease and suck on his slick covered digit.

   “Goddamn, look at you. You’re jus’ a wicked little tease, ain’t ya?” he groans, dragging the finger from your lips and pulling it into his warm mouth, sucking with a deliciously hungry groan that makes your eyes widen with heat. “Delicious,” he smirks as he pops his own digit from his mouth, grinding out another moan from your throat as he topples on the bed beside you.

   You both breathe raggedly as you look from one to the other, both locked in a heated staring match, his fingertips lingering on the back of your neck as he pulls you closer to his glistening chest. “That was…” 

   “Unexpected, but amazin’ all the same,” he finishes with a smile curled around his mouth. “You’re tellin’ me you’ve been livin’ in this house for moments, and you weren’t plannin’ on tellin’ me you thought ‘bout me in bed?” His eyebrows raise, and he looks at you square in the eyes, a sly smirk crossing his mouth.

   “I didn’t wanna risk getting kicked out,” you say with your lips molded together in a tight gesture. 

   “Kicked out, huh?” He chuckles and shakes his tousled curls. “Sweetheart, I found you in your bed moanin’ my name. Hell, you could’ve told me that first day you walked in. Think I would’ve taken you right there on the counter if I knew you were into me,” he chuckles.

   “Get out of here,” you laugh as you playfully push him in the chest. “You would not have.”

   “Oh yes I would. Thought you were a knockout from the minute you came through the front door with those little daisy dukes and those beautiful eyes. Shit, I’ve had a thing for you since day one, sweetheart.”

   You purse your lips and give him a once over, assessing his genuine brown eyes that seem covered in softness. Holy shit. He’s being serious. “Really?” you ask breathlessly.

   “Really,” he nods, curling his fingers through your hair and pulling you forward, till your mouth collides with his in a long, sensuous kiss that sends music running through your ears. His lips feel like velvet, and his tongue tastes like cinnamon. 

   When you fall away from his lips, he smiles. “We gonna make this a habit?”

   “Do you want to make this a habit?” you ask with a raised brow, hope stirring in your chest.

   “I mean, ‘course I do, darlin’. A pretty thing like you should be fucked well and taken on nice dates. Think we got the fuckin’ part down, jus’ gotta take ya to dinner now.” He winks and flashes his honey-glazed eyes, and you feel as if you could drown in those syrupy eyes. 

   “That what you tell all the girls who turn into your roommate?” you giggle.

   “Now, sweetheart. You’re rentin’ a room from me. If you wanna be roommates, then technically you’d need to stay in my room, in my bed, in my arms,” he smiles as he pulls you flush to his broad chest, draping an arm around the back of your hip as his fingers softly tease at your soft skin.

   You hum into his touch, giving him a dreamy smile as you drag your nails against his silver scruff. “Roommates, huh? Is that what we’re gonna be?”

   “Roommates, fuck buddies, lovers… s’hard to say, darlin’. But I like you, and I’d like to explore whatever this is.” His tone is so sincere that it makes butterflies flit through your stomach at the possibilities of what this could turn out to be. 

   You push your fingers through his messy curls, reveling over his deep groans as you drag your nails down his scalp. “I like you too, Joel. A lot, actually,” you blush.

   “Figured as much when I caught you moanin’ my name while usin’ that little vibrator on your pretty pink pussy,” he winks, making you blush at the way he drags out the words and keeps his brown eyes locked tight on yours. 

   You shake your head and groan when he drags his thick thumb over your lower lip. “Bet I’m not the only one. What have you been thinking about at night, in the shower, in your bed?” you smirk, making his cheeks redden at the mention of it.

   “Yeah, yeah, sweetheart. You know I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout you, too. Been wonderin’ how sweet you were. Turns out you’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever put my lips on.” He curls his lips into a delicious smile and flips you over to where your back is flush with his sweat-covered chest, lacing his calloused fingers with yours as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his scruff scratching softly along your jawline. 

   You lay there in the twisted sheets, inhaling the musk that makes up Joel Miller, embedding his woodsy pine scent deep into your memory. This feels… right, like this is where you’ve always belonged, in his arms.

   “How’s ’bout I take you on a date Friday night? We could go see a movie, I’ll buy you a big thing of popcorn, hold your hand, maybe pull you into my lap so I can kiss you all I want, then I’ll take you back home and make love to you in my bed all night long.” He places a gentle kiss to your cheek, and you melt into the feel of him. 

   You squeeze his hand and brush your lips over his knuckles, giving him a lazy smile as you turn to look back at him over your shoulder. “Okay, cowboy. You’ve got a deal.”

   He brushes his lips over yours and pulls you close so he can trace his lips over the shell of your ear. “Alright, pretty girl. It’s a date. Now, how ‘bout we go take a shower, and I can make you some dinner. Maybe go for round two after with my mouth between those pretty thighs of yours,” he whispers as a chill runs down your spine, heat building back in your core.

   You huff out a laugh and stifle a groan. “Mmmm, alright then, cowboy. I’m all in.”

   He presses his lips against yours and then tugs you up from the bed, lacing his fingers with yours as he leads you to his room. “Gonna take you for the ride of your life, sweetheart,” he smirks.

   “I’m counting on it,” you smile. 

   And so it begins.

[marifilue]

Affectionate

Oneshot: Having a cold fever with Logan as your bf

Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader

Tags: Fluffs

Word count: 656

You will never understand people who prefer winter over sunny, warm summers. You could write a whole goddamn essay on why summer is so superior.

Cold weather has always been a menace to you. Your horrible body temperature regulation doesn’t even try to help. The endless snow has made your nose runny, paired with a fever, headache, and a sore throat for good measure.

You wish your mutation let you set things on fire or something—just to feel warm. Or maybe, just maybe, you could be like Logan, your boyfriend who can’t get sick thanks to his regenerative healing ability. Sure, moving things with your mind is a pretty cool mutation, but at this moment, it’s completely useless.

You’re curled up in your shared bedroom with Logan, heavy blankets piled on top of you. You’re trying so hard to focus on the pages of the book in your hand, but the words blur together. Breathing through your nose is impossible, so you’re stuck using your mouth, leaving your throat painfully dry and sore.

A click at the door shifts your attention.

“Hey, baby,” Logan says softly as he steps into the bedroom. Reluctantly, you close your book and set it aside on the nightstand.

“Hey,” you respond, your hoarse, sickly voice sounding so unlike your usual self.

Logan wastes no time unbuttoning his flannel leaving his white tank top on, tossing it onto the floor, followed by his jeans. Now, he’s left in just his boxers. You’ve had plenty of talks with him about this—no outside clothes on the bed—and he’s finally reached the point where he listens. Somehow, boxers are more tolerable.

“How are ya feelin’?” he asks, crawling toward the edge of the bed.

“Not gettin’ better. Stay away, Lo. I’m disgusting.” You clutch the blanket tightly, attempting to create a barrier between you two as he moves closer.

Logan frowns. “You’re delusional,” he says simply, effortlessly pulling the blanket away. His hazel eyes meet yours as you feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“What if you catch the cold?” you ask, genuine concern in your voice as you look up at him.

“You realize who you’re talkin’ to?” he teases, raising a brow.

You flush with embarrassment, momentarily forgetting his ability. “Right. I forgot,” you admit with a weak chuckle. “Still, I’m disgusting.” You clutch at the blanket again, but it doesn’t budge under Logan’s weight.

“You’re not. Never will be.” His voice is soft yet firm as he leans in, closing the distance between you. His lips meet yours, and you feel the faint tingle of his beard brushing against your skin.

He kisses you once, twice, then a third time before pulling away slowly. “How’s your headache?”

“Terrible,” you say, exaggerating a frown. “You should really sleep on the couch tonight. I’m gonna be insufferable.” You sniff, struggling to breathe properly.

Logan presses his lips to your forehead. “Not a chance, toots,” he says, already climbing into bed beside you and pulling you into his arms. You lie weakly on your side as he wraps himself around you, his warm breath brushing against the hollow of your neck before he places a chaste kiss there.

“Logan…” you murmur, your breathing heavy, exhaustion evident in your voice. He kisses the spot again, then gently sucks at your skin.

His lips linger for a moment before stopping, sensing your fatigue. His hand rests on your stomach, drawing soft circles before moving up to your temple.

“This okay?” he whispers, his voice low and soothing. You hum in response and nod. He brings his middle finger up to join his index, massaging your temple with slow, deliberate movements.

After a while, his hand returns to your stomach, holding you close. Your eyes grow heavy, the sound of his heartbeat in the background lulling you to sleep.

For a fleeting moment, you swear his heartbeat aligns with yours, just like how the moon aligns with the earth that night.

[ladybirdswritings]

INVISIBLE STRING, AU — clark kent x reader.

DESCRIPTION: you lock eyes with a charming stranger at a party you’d rather not be at. NOTES - leave me all your thoughts and opinions. i love them <33 | next part

one…

What am I doing here? The words echoed in your head like a pulsing poison, eating away at your brain like ants to honeycomb.

Your brother was off sitting in a circle, fawning over cars, football, and all else that fueled testosterone and silly male enjoyment.

And then there was you, hugging the corner like an old lover, its shadows mirroring your open embrace.

“We should go over there,” declared Kate, a ringlet of her curl dancing with the springtime breeze. “You know, to see what the boys are talking about.”

No. No no no no no no—

“Yeah, we should!” Oh, if people wouldn’t see it as odd for you to slam a hand against your cheek…

There was a glaze over your pretty, fretting eyes and restless mind, a honeyed glaze slick with doubt and dissociation. You’d pushed yourself enough by coming here, and now you were being led like lamb to cleaver—ready to face your slaughter at the hands of—oh.

So busy was your mind that you might have kept your head bowed if not for subconscious pleasure.

His boots were shiny, and his denim tailored—and it’s all you paid attention to before your gaze shifted upward to find two remarkable blue-gray eyes peering in curiosity.

“Clark!” he blurted, offering a strong hand, and if you had half a mind, you would have realized it wasn’t politeness but interest.

You, always so caught up in doubts and hyperfocusing on imperfections. So caught up that you never quite saw what mirrored in men’s eyes when they gazed hungry at you: intimidation. You were strong, intelligent—and God—so pretty. Yet you could only breathe in your lack.

So no, when the handsome flannel boy with glasses far too big for his chiseled face and unruly raven hair—when his southern-kissed greeting met your ears, you had no idea it was a game.

A game between the men.

First to catch her interest would be first to have her.

But Clark was different. He wasn’t interested in feeding off the competition, he wanted to beat them to it. To offer you what they could not. But you knew none of this. You only knew that he greeted women as if a fire was forcing his hand.

“Y/N,” you warmed with a smile, shaking his hand in turn. He pulled back, gazing at his palm for a moment before a pinch settled between his brows.

“This is my sister, everyone. And this is my girlfriend, Kate.” Your brother strung Kate to him like a fly to spiderweb. She became smiley again, saying, “We got bored and decided to eavesdrop.”

“Be our guest,” Clark offered, the southern tang to his voice so soft you had to drown out the world to catch it. His eyes were on you, but your head was too bowed to realize.

Your gaze flickered to Kate sitting atop your brother’s lap. You shifted on your feet.

Vance, your brother’s friend, whom you had an insufferable crush on, stood in unison with Clark.

Their gazes locked in a silent contest you were too innocent to realize before Vance, frustrated, laughed breathily and sat back down.

“Oh no, it’s fine—” you began, but Clark shook his head, stepped aside, and motioned to the armchair. His gaze was so severe you had no choice but to comply.

You shuffled over awkwardly, finding your seat—only Clark stood beside you. He smelled of honeyed whiskey, chai, old books, and firewood. You stared at his veined hand on the arm of your seat, your mind wandering for a moment… What might that hand feel like against your skin?

“Surprised you guys aren’t over there yapping about books,” Vance began, his coal-colored eyes blanketing your face like a sinful dare.

It would never work. He was the moon, and you were the sun, warm and bright opposed to cold encased by darkness. But for months, his subtle flirtations evoked a lonesome part of your heart. Perhaps it was the lesser part of you, used to unhealthy men, that made you bend toward his attention like a starved flower. Regardless, you did, and it never made you feel less awful after parting.

When your gaze broke from his, you giggled shyly in unison with Kate, but that strong voice sliced through, commanding your attention again.

“You like to read?” he asked.

You flicked upward to Kate, only to find her chocolate stare upon you.

Oh… he was asking you.

“Um—” you began, nervous to have attention on your voice. “Well, yeah, sort of.”

“Sort of?” he tested with the lazy beginnings of a smile. You realized then how silly you sounded.

“Do you read?” you asked Clark, allowing your curiosity to bring your eyes back to him. As if he were a marionette, and you his new puppet, being pulled by an invisible string so he might study your pretty eyes. Were they always so warm and doe-like? Or had the wine made them more gentle? He wondered as you turned the question onto him.

“I do,” he replied, but when you grew shy and quiet again, he winced at himself. His icy gaze stuttered toward Vance, and he knew then that he’d have to open his mouth if he wanted your attention. He’d just have to work a little harder, and that was okay.

Usually, pretty girls like you would flock to him with no effort needed. Something about him looking like a Pinterest boyfriend, and all he had to do was sit and attract. But you… something about you told him you weren’t like the rest.

“I uh— I do.” He continued, breaking the stretched silence. “Sally Rooney—” he began, but you cut him off immediately.

“You read romance?” Your eyes widened, and your body turned toward him, and for a moment, you were completely lost in his words.

He didn’t pause or flicker with annoyance at your enthusiasm but instead gave you a lopsided grin.

“I do,” he confirmed. Though not a lie, he found himself a fisherman who’d hooked you with the most irresistible bait. Pretty, mysterious, shy girl you were—now he’d get you to talk. “Do you?”

Kate cut in, “We read about fairies and dragon riders.” You flushed a pretty pink with an embarrassed laugh. He peered down at you, giving Kate only a ghostly laugh of acknowledgment.

“You like fantasy, then?” he said so low it was as if the conversation was reserved for only the two of you.

As if fate were aiding his hand, the others fell into comfortable conversation. Not you, though. You were pinned under his grayed gaze.

“I read anything with a good love story,” you answered, so honestly, it surprised you.

“I like that,” he said simply, as if he were talking to himself. When he realized it, a pinch snaked between his brows, and you couldn’t help but softly laugh. He mirrored you. “What?”

“You’re likely the only man alive who does, if you’re telling the truth.”

“Well I—” he began, but your brother cut in.

“Ready to head out, Y/N?” You noticed just how entranced you’d been in this handsome stranger, not for his pretty face or interests, but for his words. The rest never mattered—not for you anyway. You often found it hard to capture any man’s attention, let alone the handsome ones. Even so, a lick of disappointment thrummed in your heart.

You dared to wonder what might happen if you offered your social media so he could contact you again. But the idea sped your heart and widened your eyes, so you stood with a nod.

Vance offered you a warm hug, and you merely waved at the others before turning to Clark—well, Clark’s chest. He towered over you, his honeyed whiskey scent licking your senses as he pulled you into a warm embrace. Gentle, curious, as if testing the feel of your body against his. Stranger to stranger—but he was so warm, so confusingly familiar.

“It was nice to meet you, Y/N,” he spoke first, pulling away. Swayed by his warmth, you could only nod.

Now was your chance. Your once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to ask for a way to keep in contact with this mysterious stranger. But you cowered when you glanced up at his pretty face.

Fate wasn’t kind, and in your mind, you decided there was a model waiting for his warmth at home—and you were only allowed to entangle with him for a moment, never again.

“You too, Clark…”

Then you were off, never to see the mysterious stranger ever again.

[wendichester]

Long walk on the beach with the most jaw dropping of a sunset you can imagine with the man, the myth, the legend—Dean Winchester and a frisky reader😌☝️

.ೃ࿔*:･ sunkissed n' shameless,

summary. you and dean finally manage some time to go to the beach. it is one of his favorite activities. and you kinda see why

pairing. dean winchester x reader genre. frisky

wordcount. 441

notes / warnings. implied sexual content though it doesn't really go there, lots of physical affection and teasing.

The sky is on fire. Orange, pink, and molten gold streak the horizon, the kind of sunset you see in postcards—or maybe daydreams. Waves kiss the sand in lazy rhythm, warm wind curling through your hair.

And Dean Winchester walks beside you like a goddamn summer fantasy.

He’s barefoot, jeans rolled up, flannel sleeves pushed to his elbows. His hand swings close to yours, knuckles brushing every few steps like he’s just daring you to grab him.

You do.

His smirk flashes, cocky and knowing. “Can’t resist me out here, huh?”

“You’re not exactly subtle,” you shoot back, eyeing the way the sun hits his jaw, turning him gold. “Kinda hard to ignore when you look like a Calvin Klein ad lost in a beer commercial.”

Dean laughs, rich and low. “You’re not so bad yourself, sweetheart.” His gaze dips, lingers. “Sun looks good on you.”

You lean into him just enough that your shoulder bumps his. “You planning on just walking, or were you gonna kiss me at some point?”

That gets him. He stops mid-step, brows lifted like he can’t believe his luck. Then his hand slides around your waist, yanking you close so fast your toes dig into the sand.

“Oh, I was gonna do a lot more than kiss you.”

His mouth claims yours with that signature Dean Winchester mix of tenderness and heat—slow, but confident. Like he knows exactly what you want and exactly how to give it.

Your fingers slide under the edge of his shirt, palm brushing his skin. He groans softly into the kiss.

“Beach is pretty empty,” you murmur, lips ghosting along his jaw. “No one around to see…”

Dean pulls back just enough to give you that look—eyes dark, smile dangerous. “You trying to get frisky with me in the sand?”

“Trying?” you echo. “Baby, I’m succeeding.”

He laughs again, low and sinful, hands dropping to your hips. “You’re trouble.”

“Lucky for you,” you whisper, tugging him closer by the belt loops, “you like trouble.”

His mouth is on yours again, hotter this time. Teeth, tongue, that handsy grip that makes your knees a little wobbly. The ocean crashes behind you, but the only thing you hear is the thump of your pulse and Dean whispering filth against your ear.

You’re not saying you’d have sex on the beach. But if he keeps touching you like that… you’d consider it.

Eventually, he pulls away with one last, stolen kiss. “Sunset’s almost over.”

“Better make the most of it,” you say, already dragging him toward a dune with a grin.

Dean just chuckles, letting you lead. “Sunkissed and shameless. That’s my girl.”

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[wcters]

CHRISTMAS WITH LANDO

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: what christmas/december looks like with you and lando

warnings/contents: sexual innuendos

author’s note: wanted to give you something for christmas and as an apology for not getting all of the 1k celebration requests out !!! going though a bit of writers block :(((, christmas is almost here !!!! merry christmas and happy holidays if you don’t celebrate christmas🎄 , wanted to get a little something out before the holidays, hope everyone has a good time with friends and family !!!!

- first of all, you take christmas very seriously

- you’re not one of those people who set the tree up super early, you wait till remembrance day or american thanksgiving, but you still plan it out

- you have a planned tree aesthetic for now, when you guys are older and have kids then you’ll let them decorate, but for now it’s you and lando

- if lando isn’t there with you while you set it up, you will get the christmas tree up by yourself ‼️

- #independentwoman

- sooooo many decorations

- like you move some of lando’s mini helmets (sorry) to fit them

- you’ve got snow globes, garlands, mini christmas trees

- all of it 🎄⛸️🎁

- you’ve definitely made one of his mini helmets into a snow globe

- christmas flannel bedsheets and bedset

- binge watching christmas movies 🎥

- complete with charcuterie boards, wine, cookies you made

- LOVE christmas baking ‼️

- if it exists, you make it

- shortbread (my grandad made the best), snickerdoodles, gingerbread, peppermint, sugar cookies, etc

- that mostly consists of you baking and lando helping when you tell him too . . . and eating the batter while you slap his hand away

- you also cook a lot as well

- especially soups, you miss soup season 🥣

- music always coming from the kitchen

- lando just likes to watch you sometimes, other times he’ll start to dance with you

- when his hands start to wander (cause you know they will), you push him away and he gets sad

- MATCHING PYJAMAS

- if you have a pet or something, matching with them as well

- you love gift giving so you love going shopping for things 🛒

- we all know you help lando get gifts for people 🎁

- you spoil mila and athena 🥺

- we all saw the car lando got her BEFORE she was born, you go all out

- go out for any young kids in your family as well

- going out to christmas markets with him, max, and pietra ❄️

- sometimes it’s just you and pietra as the boys are big losers

- soooo many pictures being taken

- some for online, but most are for you to keep ❤️

- skating with each other ⛸️

- though it’s mostly lando holding your hands and helping you balance while you yell ‘lando!’ when you get scared or nervous

- trips to the alps with friends

- over the years you’ve learned to ski and you think you’ve gotten pretty good 😌

- so many nights of you and lando sitting together by the fire, blanket in top of you, max taking pictures because he finds the face lando makes when he’s sleeping hilarious

- you love taking baths, but especially during christmas time 🛁

- you and lando love having baths together after longs days and talk about what you’ve missed

- every soap is christmas themed, dish towels, pillows, you’re serious about this time of year

- each year you switch which persons house you’ll be spending christmas eve at

- you spend time with the others family as well but it switches for christmas eve

- if you decide to spend christmas eve at your house, you have traditions

- KARAOKE 🎤

- making christmas dinner together

- fighting over who makes what

- “i’ll take care of the turkey and stuffing while you take the carrot cake”

- “but i want to do the stuffing!”

- “you always burn it”

- “that is such lies”

- dancing in the kitchen 🕺

- at the end of the night you’re PLASTERED

- best sleep ever, though you are very excited for christmas day

- even more excited if you are spending it with family though ‼️

- you and lando are woken up to mila jumping in your bed and savannah coming in to grab her while apologizing profusely

- you just laugh it off and tell her not to worry while getting up because lando never likes to wake up that early on christmas

- you help make breakfast with sav and cisca while oliver helps when needed though he’s mostly playing with mila and athena with adam 🥺

- one of your favourite images is lando on christmas morning: his hair messy in the best way, the morning glow . . . when he goes to stretch and his stomach and the lining of his underwear show 😉

- you have breakfast first (obviously with some complaints from the kids) but you adults need coffee to get through the morning

- lando eats a lot because he doesn’t have to be on his diet

- after that it’s time for presents !!!!!! 🎁

- for some gifts you coordinate with sav and oliver so they go together

- lando sits on the couch and if you’re not on the ground with the girls you’re with him, back against his chest as you watch with so much love in your eyes

- you do the adults gifts on the side because you all want the attention on the girls

- lando LIVES and lives to spoil you

- he does all year, don’t get me wrong, but at christmas? it’s another level

- he waits till you guys are back at your house or alone when he gives you all the super expensive ones because you KNOW this man spends a ridiculous amount of money on you 💵💵

- you love to see everyone’s faces when they see their presents

- especially cisca and adam’s when they receive their vacation tickets

- spend the day catching up and doing family things

- the girls obviously have a gossip session about what’s been going on 💅

- naps when you both get home

- you are SPENT since you aren’t used to that much energy

- spend the next day together and giving each other the presents you got for each other

- lots of hugs, kisses, smiles, and cheeky jokes

- it’s mostly a lazy day after the last couple of days of getting ready

- just being close and spending time with each other ❤️ gives you guys a slow moment in your fast paced lives

- obviously visit max and pietra while you are in the UK

- gift exchanging as you do every year, though it’s mostly you going overboard with gifts for them and their dog 🐕

- again, gossip sesh with pietra filled with drama and wine

- takes you on his annuals ski trips 🎿

- you are either a boss at it or you suck (sorry)

- if you suck, he helps you out . . . or attempts to

- it usually ends in both of you laughing hysterically while on the ground

- if you are amazing at it, you leave him in the dust like the queen you are

- in town shopping trips with p 🛍️

- just a great time of year where you get to catch up with friends and family and be together in each other presence ❤️

[archangeldyke-all]

Idea: Isha thinks Santa is real and is horrified of him because she thinks he doesn’t like her because she never celebrated before as well, she was a kid in the mines.

When decorating time rolls around she’s all pouty and sad until you and Sev confront the poor baby.

this is so fucking funny hahahaehhhaheahe

men and minors dni

it's christmas eve.

your family doesn't do the traditional christmas, especially since your family wasn't even a family this time last year.

you and sevika's usual christmas tradition is a nice homemade meal by the fire, maybe exchanging a few gifts, ending the night in your matching mr. and mrs. claus lingerie (just two santa hat and whatever red underwear you can find.)

but now you've got the girls, so you're trying to get a little more festive.

jinx and isha drug home a fallen pine tree branch a few days ago, decorating it with streamers and paper snowflakes they made themselves.

you and sevika splurged on christmas lights, hanging them on your front porch and lining the walls of your home with the multi-colored twinkles. of course, you've both been hoarding gifts for the girls-- anything and everything you could find that you thought they might enjoy you've piled up in the you and sevika's super secret hiding spot (under the bed) waiting to be wrapped tonight when the girls go to sleep.

it's been fun!

isha's been endlessly enchanted by the sparkly lights lining the streets, she squeals each time she sees a rudolph or snowman decoration, and she's obsessed with all the sweet treats that come around with this time of year. hot chocolate, christmas cookies, candy canes-- isha loves it all.

jinx has been having a wonderful time introducing isha to all the fun traditions that come around with the season. she custom made herself and isha matching stockings (she made you, vi, and sevika stockings too-- but none of them were quite as sparkly and fun as isha's.) she's been referring to the little girl as her 'elf'-- isha always bursts into giggles when she does. and when there's fresh snow-- jinx has been bundling the little girl up and dragging her outside to introduce her to the joys of snowballs and snowmen and snow angels.

so, overall, you've all been feeling pretty jolly.

but... you're starting to get a little worried tonight, because isha's been becoming increasingly restless.

you've got the fire going, christmas music playing on the radio, the four of you sharing a plate of cookies and sipping on eggnog in matching flannel jammies.

isha's frowning down at her feet, a worried furrow in her brow.

jinx is fighting off sleep on the couch, sevika's stoking the fire. you reach out and nudge the little girl's shoulder.

"you okay, baby?" you ask. sevika blinks over at the pair of you concern on her face as she looks at isha.

isha blinks up at you with anxious eyes. what is santa? she signs.

you look at your wife, the two of you having a panicked, telepathic conversation.

should we tell her he's not real? sevika's face reads.

you shrug. she's only five, she deserves at least one year of believing, don't you think? you ask with a quirk of your brow.

sevika sighs and gestures for you to speak. you giggle.

"santa's an old man who lives in the north pole, making toys all year with the help of his elves. on christmas eve, when we're all sleeping, he travels across the world using magic and flying reindeer, leaving presents for well-behaved kiddos just like you!" you explain happily.

only, isha looks horrified.

he comes in our house when we're sleeping!? she signs. sevika chuckles. what if he robs us?

"nah, kid, santa's a jolly old man. he's not a thief. he's been doin' this for hundreds of years and he's i've never heard of anyone getting robbed by santa." sevika says.

isha still looks skeptical. okay... but what about the song? he sees me when i'm sleeping and knows when i'm awake? how?

sevika snorts. "you're awfully smart for a five year old." she says, ruffling her hair. "santa's magic kid, 's how it all works." she explains.

isha hums, kicking her feet and digesting the new information. jinx snorts awake, blinking around and trying to pretend she's been awake the whole time.

what if he doesn't like me? isha signs.

your heart breaks a little, and you wrap your arm around her. "why wouldn't santa like you, kiddo? you're a great little girl. way better than jinx-- and jinx never got coal."

"hey!" jinx protests.

isha giggles a bit, then she frowns again, a tear trailing down her cheek. but... he never left me presents before.

your heart shatters. beside you, sevika lets out a heartbroken whimper.

"oh, isha baby..." you coo, pulling the girl into your lap.

"santa's not real, isha." jinx cuts in. you and sevika gasp and glare at her and she chuckles. "what?! it's true. he's made up, he's a fairy tale-- parents use him to trick little kids into behaving well."

isha sighs in relief. so, if i'm bad ms. baby and big mama will still give me presents? she asks.

you burst into giggles, and beside you sevika cackles.

"'course, kiddo. sevika gave me a holiday present the same year i blew her fuckin' arm off-- there's not much you can do that'll stop 'em from spoiling you from now on." jinx says.

well... shit. now you've got tears in your eyes. you didn't know that about sevika, and it only makes you love her more. you reach out and grab her hand, only to find it shaking a little. she must be just as affected by jinx's words as you are.

it takes you a few seconds to make sure your voice won't wobble before you speak. "alright, speaking of-- the two of you gotta go to your room so me and sev can put your gifts out. try to sleep, please." you say.

jinx giggles and pulls isha in her arms, both of them hugging and kissing you and sevika goodnight before wandering to their room.

the second their door clicks closed, you and sevika are in eachother's arms, crying with gratitude for your girls; the best gift you could've fucking asked for.

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[terraswallows]

A message from me to you.

People ask me sometimes—why do I write only for transfem lesbians? Why center us? Why pour all this love into words meant just for us?

Well, it’s simple.

Because most spaces only mention us. A passing line. Like we’re an afterthought. Like our love, our softness, our fire, our ache—it’s too much, too different, too invisible to be centered.

But I see us.

I see the way we hold each other with trembling hands and brave hearts. I see the girls who tuck down their dysphoria and still find the courage to flirt through misty glasses. I see the butch transfems in oversized flannels and sharp eyeliner. I see the soft girls with trembling voices trying out "she" for the first time. I see the messy, horny, tender chaos of discovering desire on our own terms—slow, emotional, overwhelming, and beautiful.

I write for us because we deserve love notes written in lipstick and late-night tears. We deserve poems, stories, affirmations—not scraps, not apologies. Full pages. Front and center. We deserve to be desired not in spite of who we are, but because of it.

So here’s to the girls like me. The ones whose womanhood doesn’t always fit neat little boxes, but is no less real, no less radiant.

To the trans girls who ache to be held. Who kiss like they mean it. Who long for affection that doesn’t ask them to shrink.

To the girls who make you stammer when they look your way. The ones who giggle and blush and say “stopppp” when you call them pretty—because they’re still learning how to believe it.

To the girls who just want to lie on someone’s chest and feel safe for once. Who burn with slow, hunger that has nothing to do with what's down there, and everything to do with warmth, closeness, intimacy.

I see you. I love you. I’m with you. And I’ll never stop writing about us—our love, our longing, our power, our softness.

I send kisses to all, my lovely little disasters. Don’t ever stop being unbearably, unapologetically you.

[eternalsams]

Okay Samy hear me out!!

Arthur and you are in this early relationship state where you just can't keep their hands off each other and basically do it all day everyday 🫣 but at camp, opportunities to be alone are rare and Arthur ends up being really frustrated he can't just take you as he pleases.

And you like teasing him knowing this😏 I mean, purposely unbuttoning more than usual your clothes to show your cleavage, bending forward to grab something just in front of him so he can see, "innocently" rubbing his forearm, stuff like that...

You drive him crazy, and I feel like at the end of the day he would just be tired of it and bring you somewhere to deal with this cheeky behavior 😌

Alone With You ➛ Arthur Morgan

pairing: high honor!arthur morgan x fem!reader

warning/content: 18+, fluff, early relationship stage, teasing, smut (unprotected p in v, hair pulling, fingering, cum eating, body worship, praise kink, oral m!receiving, creampie), Arthur and reader in crotchless historically accurate underwears

summary: Was it really your fault if your hands always ended up on Arthur? You couldn't say so. But when Arthur decides to act on it, you're in for a treat.

word count: 4.9k

a/n: english isn't my first language, please take that into consideration. Any minor interacting with this will be blocked. You have no idea how much research I made for this, about flowers in rdr2 but also about 19th century underwear, so everything is historically accurate.

red dead redemption masterlist main masterlist

You laughed at something Mary-Beth said as you kept rubbing the blood stains from the boys clothes. Your knees were hurting as you stayed on them all morning washing the camp's dirty laundry. Karen looked up over your shoulder and smirked. "I think Mr Morgan quite likes you, girl." She said as Tilly almost gave herself whiplash as she turned abruptly her head to look at the man a little further. You didn't even bother to look, you could feel his eyes on you. Just as much as he could feel yours when he was busy chopping wood. "Well, good for him because I'm quite fond of him too." You looked at her with a certain spark in your eyes. "So, you are making him all soft!" The blonde chuckled and you smiled at her. "If anything, I'm not making him soft." All three girls turned to look at you with wide eyes before you all burst out laughing.

You were about to share another bold secret when you felt a warm breath on your neck. "Having fun there, ladies?" Your friends' mouths shut as their cheeks flushed in embarrassment. But you only smiled more as you turned to face your lover. His long chestnut brown hair framing his face and tickling your skin. "Hey, cowboy." You leaned back as your felt Arthur's arms wrapped around you. He leaned down and pressed a kiss on your cheek. "Hi, pretty girl. Mind if I steal you for a moment?" He didn't wait for an answer and lifted you on your feet, the girls giggling at Arthur's behavior.

You managed to avoid Ms Grimshaw's attention as Arthur pulled you behind a tree. "Feeling adventurous, Mr Morgan?" You whispered as your hands wandered down his chest, playing with the buttons of his flannel shirt. As you were about to unbuckle his belt, his hands stopped yours and he looked sternly into your eyes. "Behave." You smiled and retreated your hands.

He knew that look in your eyes. It was the same one you usually gave him when you'd bend over in front of him, picking something up and looking over your shoulder. Or when you'd let your hand run over his shoulders as he sat around the fire and you'd pass by behind him, your fingers catching the growing locks on his neck and gently tugging on the strands.

You brought up your hands at your own chest and snapped your fingers on the first button, opening your dress just a little bit. Arthur's eyes travelled down and he could guess the swell of your chest, his breath stuck in his throat. His fingers itching at his sides, not knowing if he should stop you or help you getting rid of your clothes. But he quickly made a choice when he heard Bill's voice behind him, reminding him of where you two were. He gently grabbed your hands and took them away from your dress. He kept his gaze on your chest as he buttoned back up your clothes. "I have to leave for a few days. Can you behave while I'm away?" He asked with a little smirk and you scoffed. "Of course, I can. Where are you heading to this time?" You asked as you started playfully fidgeting with his collar. "It's best for you if you don't know. But I'll be back into your arms before the end of the week." He grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles, his eyes staring deep into yours. "Promise?" You felt your cheeks eat up at the antic. "Promise, darlin'. I'll bring you back flowers and maybe you can guess where I've been from them." He smiled at you before kissing your forehead.

He made the habit of bringing you flowers from his trips so you could dry them and keep them in a little notebook he got you. You usually could tell where he wandered off based on what kind of flowers he brought you back. "I'll miss you." You pouted as you kept rubbed his knuckles with your thumb, your hand still in his. "I'll miss you too, pretty girl." He brought your hand to his lips and gently kissed your knuckles before pecking your lips and readjusting his hat on his head. He took a few steps back and walked to his horse. A beautiful liver chestnut mare he found in the wild and tamed.

You watched him mount the horse and walked up to them, patting the animal's neck before giving her a sugar cube you picked in Arthur's satchel. "I'll be back in a few days, wait for me." Arthur looked down at you with a tender smile. "Always." You smiled back at him as you took a few steps back, leaving room for his horse to turn and leave camp.

He gave you one last glance over his shoulders and you teasingly played with the laces of your dress, earning a laugh from him in the distance. You chuckled and laced back your clothes before joining back the girls to finish the laundry.

Just as he said, Arthur was back four days later, a dead deer attached to his horse, bringing food to the camp. You watched him carry the animal to Pearson from afar, admiring how he held the heavy carcass with one arm only, the muscles beneath his tan skin tensing with the effort. He then walked back to his horse and delicately took out a purple flower. You smiled, knowing already this one was for you. He quickly looked around and crossed gaze with you. You felt your cheeks flushing as his eyes bore into yours. He quickly made his way to you and took his hat off when he got close, offering you the flower. "I got this for you." He said lowly, his voice just a whisper like he was careful not to break the bubble of intimacy around the two of you. "Thank you, Arthur. It's really beautiful." You brought the orchid to your nose and inhaled softly, the delicate smell invading your senses. "Not as beautiful as you, I'm afraid." You looked up at him and noticed the little pout he gave you, earning a chuckle from you.

You also noticed the thicker stubble on his jaw and gently caressed the side of his face. "Do you need help shaving?" You asked, your fingers finding that little scarred spot on his chin where hair just refused to grow. "I'm all good, only if it's not uncomfortable for you." He smiled as he nuzzled his face in your neck, the rough facial hair scratching your skin and making you giggle. He delicately pulled the fabric of your dress off your shoulder and placed a gentle kiss there before kissing your neck and making his way up to your face with one last peck on your lips. You felt eyes on you and when you glanced past Arthur's shoulder, you crossed Hosea's eyes who was smiling at the two of you, loving to see his alleged son happy.

"Can you guess where I've been?" Arthur's drew your attention back to him as his thumbs started rubbing circles on your waist. You dropped your gaze to the flower in your hands. It was an orchid, that you knew, you recognized the singular shapes.

"It's an orchid." You said, still inspecting the flower. Arthur hummed in approval as he made you step back to join the confines of his tent. "It's not a lady of the night or a night scented, those are white. Or a ghost orchid." You then said as you blindly trusted Arthur with each step you took. "No, it's not." His voice was low. "So it's not the bayou." You kept inspecting the orchid as he smiled, impressed by how much you knew about the flowers he brought you. "Maybe a dragon's mouth? Those are purple right?" You tried to guess, looking up at Arthur with expecting eyes. The man chuckled lowly and shook his head. "It's not a dragon's mouth, guess again."

You felt the back of your knees bump into his cot and one of his hands left your waist to pull the flaps closed. "Oh, I know! It's a lady slipper!" You exclaimed and just as you were about to look up at Arthur, he crashed his lips on yours, swallowing your gasp.

His hands travelled up your body to your face and hold you against him, slowly parting your lips to taste you after days of longing for you. "Arthur... the flower..." You managed to say between hungry kisses. He delicately took the flower from your hand and put it on the little table next to his bed. "Can you guess where I've been then?" Arthur asked as his lips travelled back down your jaw to reach your neck. You tried to gather your thoughts to form a coherent sentence but all you could think about what Arthur's warm lips on your skin, raising goosebumps along your neck. "The...the bayou..?" You said the first place that came to your mind, earning a laugh from Arthur. "Oh, pretty girl... You said it couldn't be the bayou." He openly laughed at how any smart thought you had left your brain the moment his lips found yours. "...right." You sighed and as you were about to take another guess, a very singular Irish accent was heard. "Hey, are ye all not finished in here? It's still daytime now!"

You felt Arthur groan before you hard him, the vibrations of his voice running along your skin. You regained your train of thoughts and looked up at Arthur's closed eyes. "Big Valley. You went to Big Valley." You whispered as you tried to catch your breath. Arthur opened his eyes and smiled down at you, trying to forget Sean's stupid comments. "I sure did." He confirmed your guess and kissed your forehead. "Let me take you somewhere. Just the two of us, for a day or two." He practically begged you and you couldn't do anything else than smile at him. "Of course, I'll go anywhere as long as I'm with you."

"Let's go now." Arthur took your hand in his and went to open the tent's flaps. "Now?" You giggled, following him outside, where every pair of eyes stared at the two of you. "Then when? Let's go now, the others won't miss us." You turned to look at your friends and it was mostly the girls watching you from afar and trying to catch the interesting parts of your conversation. You waved them off and followed Arthur to his horse. He helped you get on the mare, making sure you were comfortable on the saddle before he jumped behind you, surprising the proud animal with the extra weight on her back. For a moment, you were worried you might hurt her back but Arthur reassured you she'd carried heavier than the two of you. "So, where are you taking me, Mr Morgan?" You asked as you turned your torso to look back at him. His arms were at each side of you, holding the reins, and his feet locked in the stirrups. "That, my lady, is a surprise. You'll have to be patient."

"Now, you know patience isn't one of my virtues, Arthur." You giggled as he led his horse out of camp. "That I know." He chuckled and wrapped one of his arms around your waist to keep you against him.

You had spent the entire afternoon riding West, following the setting sun and when you saw the silver lupine fields, you had no difficulty guessing where Arthur was taking you. West Elizabeth, Big Valley. And just as the sun finally disappeared behind the high mountains, Arthur's horse left the main road and sank into the woods, revealing a cute little house among the trees. "Found this cabin two days ago. I saw that huge buck last time I came here. Its coat was brown and white, I'd never seen any deer that color, it was splendid." Arthur told you as he stopped his horse in front of the little cabin. "Did you kill it?" You asked, you knew how much he loved wilderness but you also knew a large deer meant a lot of meat for camp. "I did. Took the meat, skinned it, kept the antlers to sell them. Brought back the meat in camp." He dismounted and helped you get off, catching you carefully as you set your feet back on the ground. "But I drew it in my journal for you." He offered you a smile and guided you to the cabin.

"So, when I left camp a few days ago, I wanted to find it. But I found this cabin first, empty. It's been abandoned years ago in my opinion, and nobody ever came back. I stayed here, got some rest after my trip and the next day, I grabbed my best rifle and went hunting. I got him after more than 10 hours out there." He said proudly and you couldn't help but chuckle. Arthur was a quiet man, a quiet soul, but it felt like when he was with you, he always wanted to tell you his exploits. He always had a story to tell or a question for you. Always wanted to talk with you.

He made sure to lock the front door after you and you discovered the insider of the abandoned cabin. It was a little cold but you noticed an old fireplace so you had no doubt Arthur was going to light a fire to warm you up for the night. "So, why did you bring me here, cowboy?" You asked as you leaned back on your hands on the table. You watched Arthur gathering the logs in the fireplace and cracking a match to start the fire. "You know why, pretty girl." He chuckled lowly as he made sure the fire would last all night. He then stood up and turned to you with a cocky smile. "Do I now?" You arched an eyebrow as he got closer and caged you between his arms. "The camp is too crowded for what I wanna do to you." He mumbled as he nuzzled his face in your neck, inhaling your perfume.

"And what is it you want to do, Mr Morgan?" You tilted your head back, giving him access to your neck. Your lover didn't answer, only planting kisses on your skin, his hands getting adventurous in your back. His fingers trailing down your back, his lips cascading down the column of your throat until he reached the cleavage of your dress, his nose slotting between your breasts. As he was about to reach to unbutton the front of your dress, you did it first, allowing him access to your chest. With one hand, he unhooked your corset, revealing the white chemise underneath. You watched his lips follow the path of his fingers, trailing down your chest as he tugged at the top of your chemise to kiss the swell of your breasts. "Arthur...please..." You sighed lowly, your fingers taking hold on his hair and guiding him where you wanted him.

He happily complied, devouring the supple skin revealing itself to him. You whined softly when he nibbled on the skin, leaving a light red mark before moving to your other breast. "We're all alone..." Arthur mumbled against your skin, moving back up to look into your eyes. "We are." You nodded, your breathing heavy and heart beating fast and hard in your chest. "And you're all mine." He gently grabbed your chin and made you look up into his eyes. "I am." You confirmed before he jumped on your lips, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he held you firmly against his lips. Your movements turned rushed as well, your hands trying to get rid of his coat, pulling the material down his arms as best as you could. He released your face to help you undress him, dragging his suspenders off his shoulders to pull the shirt off his torso.

The only few times you had been intimate with Arthur, you didn't really have the time to get fully undressed. He would usually push up your skirt to your waist, drag down his pants as best as he could to free himself of his confines and take you as fast and quiet as possible. The more of him you saw was when he was doing chores around camp. Chopping wood, carrying haystacks. And that only if the sun was high in the sky, forcing him to work shirtless because of the heat. So when he threw his shirt away, putting you face to face with his naked torso, you felt yourself blush. Your hands started shaking with anticipation and you fought the urge to caress the patches of hair on his chest. You looked back up at him and noticed how dark his eyes were, his pupils completely blown by desire.

"You're so beautiful..." He breathed out quietly, as if to keep the privilege of seeing you like this only to himself. Not daring to draw any attention on you and keep you to himself. Your body received a rush of confidence from his praise and you snaked your arms around his middle, pushing him onto the bed a little further into the cabin. He sat down on it and pulled you onto his lap, making you straddle his thighs. His face was once again on the same level as your breasts and he couldn't resist getting lost in the warm flesh one more time. Your hands made quick work on getting rid of your chemise, revealing your naked form to him as he maintained your hips nestled against his.

Occasionally, he'd thrust up his hips, searching friction on his hardening member. And you'd whine, feeling your arousal pool in your lower belly and soak your thighs. "Let's get you rid of this, shall we?" Arthur said in a low voice, the desire well known in his tone. He finished pulling your dress off your body, almost ripping it off you in the process. Now that you were only wearing the bottom of your undergarment, he could clearly see the wet spot on your inner thighs. Arthur was never one to really pay attention to fashion but when he saw the crotchless underwear you were wearing, he thanked all the gods that could hear him. He snaked a hand between your legs and ran a finger up your folds, finding them drenched. You moaned his name as you clutched his hair in your grip.

You leaned down and started peppering kissed along his neck, moving up to his ear to kiss the sensitive skin behind it. His free hand was on your ass, holding you firmly against him and encouraging you to ride his hand. And you did, you started rolling your hips, chasing pleasure along his digits. "Such a good girl for me. All soaked and ready for me to take her." He cooed at you, relishing on the lewd sounds of your wet cunt sliding on his hand. "Say it, baby. Say you're my good girl." Arthur looked up at you expectantly. As you were about to answer him, you felt one of his fingers slide in and curl at the perfect spot, making you whine. "We're alone. You can be as loud as you need to. Let me hear you." he said as he kissed the underside of you jaw as you tilted your head back in pleasure. "I'm yours... I'm your good girl." You managed to pronounce, that usual coil starting to tighten in your stomach.

You slightly pulled on Arthur's hair and whined his name, asking for more. He kept peppering kisses along your throat and added another finger in your cunt, feeling your walls stretch around his digits and accommodate to their size. "You're being so good for me. What a good girl you are." He smiled up at you and pulled you down to kiss you. He didn't waste any time before running his tongue along your lips and tasting your moans and whimpers. His fingers were still brushing that delicious spot inside you, bringing you closer and closer and closer. Until you forcefully grabbed his wrist with one hand, pulled on his hair with the other and your whole body tensed up with your orgasm. Arthur let go of your lips as you cried out his name, your voice breaking with the intensity of your release. Your walls spasmed around his fingers and he kept curling them until you completely rode out your orgasm.

When he made sure you were back to him, he carefully pulled his fingers out, admiring your creamy release on them. He brushed his fingers on your lips, leaving a trail of cum across them before sucking one finger into his mouth, tasting the very essence of you. Your tongue darted out automatically, tasting yourself. You opened your eyes and grabbed Arthur's hand, bringing his fingers to your lips and licking them clean. You felt his cock twitch beneath you at the action, his eyes darkening even more as he watched you suck his fingers and savoring your own release off them. As you let go of his fingers, he immediately kissed you, licking the inside of your mouth to taste the remnant of your juices on your tongue. You moaned against him and made quick work to open his pants, getting impatient and needy.

Arthur slightly jumped and flinched as your fingers first brushed his erection. "Hey, slow down, girl. I'm not gonna last long if we don't take it slow." He gently kissed your cheek and wrapped his arms around your waist, spinning you and laying you down on the bed. He pulled off your undergarment and kissed your navel before getting off the bed. He didn't take his eyes off you as he kicked off his boots and pulled down his pants, throwing the jeans somewhere in the cabin. You would've laughed at him for standing so proud half naked, hard cock standing against his belly, in a cabin that wasn't even yours if you weren't so desperate for him to take you. You reached out for him and pulled him to you.

You delicately pulled his underwear down his legs and wrapped your hands around his base, guiding him to your lips. His hand automatically reached for your hair without griping it. You watched as his eyes fell closed, lost in pleasure. You started with a few kisses on his tip, relishing at the taste of the precum gathered there. "God dammit..." You heard him swear above you, not knowing what to do with his hands. You grabbed one of his hands and brought it to your jaw, inviting him to hold your face. You parted your lips and slowly pulled him into your mouth. Arthur growled, his thumb rubbing on your cheek to distract him but the moment he felt his cock nudging the inside of your cheek and poking at his thumb, he was a goner. He pushed you off him and you released him with a pop. "I can't- I can't..." He sighed out, out of breath. You looked up at him, a string of spit mixed with precum still attached your lips to his tip.

"What can't you do?" You asked quietly, your heart beating fast with how nervous those two words made you.

He looked down at you and felt his heart break in his chest when he noticed the doubt in your eyes. He quickly kneeled down in front of you and kissed you deeply, tasting himself on your lips. "I cannot possibly last if you keep that up." He tried to reassure you between two kisses. You giggled and pulled him on top of you, laying back down on the cot. His hands were nowhere and everywhere at the same time, his hips pressing against yours and his pubes scratching your clit, sending jolts of pleasure up your entire body. You caught Arthur's lip between your teeth and nibble on the rosy flesh. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this." He murmured, grabbing his cock between your two bodies and giving it a few slow pumps.

"How long I've waited to have you all to myself and have you screaming my name. Can't have that in camp, yeah?" He pushed his tip against your folds, gathering your arousal and use it as lube. You squirmed and whined, trying to catch his cock with your hole, feeling like you were about to explode if he didn't take you soon. "Well, I wouldn't mind the others to hear. Everyone in camp would know who you belong to, who makes you feel so good you can't do anything but scream my name." He chuckled, bringing his tip to your entrance and pushing in slowly, allowing just the tip to be embraced by your warmth. "Sweet heavens..." He closed his eyes, trying not to shoot his load too fast.

His words had you giggling, his voice anchoring you to reality and the present moment. "You ain't even a believer." You brought your hands to his face, cradling it in your palms. "I know heavens exist, and it's between your legs. You devious goddess..." He sighed and nuzzled his face in your neck, slowly pushing his cock deeper inside you. You could feel every inch of him push against your inner walls, stretching them and carving them with his imprint, his veins. His hands pushed your thighs apart, giving more space for his hips to kiss yours. "Just take me, Arthur... Please." You whined and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him to you. "Alright...alright..." He put one of his hands on your hips and pushed all the way in, until he felt his balls slap your ass and heard his name gasped from your lips. He pulled almost all the way out and thrusted back in, his hips hitting yours at a dangerous pace.

You could hear him mumble things against your skin. And when he wasn't mumbling, he was kissing your skin, practically making out with your neck and leaving purple marks on your skin. One of his hands shot down to your clit and started drawing circles on the bundle of nerves, trying to get you closer to the edge. You wrapped one of your legs around his hips, the new angle having the both of you moaning as he hit that spongy spot inside you. Your voice getting higher and your cunt tighter were a clear sign you were getting closer and Arthur couldn't get more addicted. "That's it, sweet girl. Take what you need, cum for me. Cum on my cock." He grunted as he felt his own release approach, his balls tightening with pleasure as he fought against his instincts to keep his orgasm at bay.

Your moans got louder and your grip on Arthur's hair tighter as you felt your cunt contracting as a wave of pleasure flooded you before every muscle of your body relaxed at the same time, the euphoria having you see stars. Arthur couldn't help the moans from slipping between his lips as he felt your cunt squeezing him. The sight of you cumming on his cock and the sound of his name screamed in such a way pushed him over the edge. The pleasure was so intense, the thought of pulling out wasn't even in his mind, your cunt milking him for everything he had. You felt the warmth of his release pool into you, painting your inner walls white. A low whine left his lips as your cunt clenched around him in overstimulation. You pulled his head out of your neck and brought his face to yours, kissing his lips. His eyes were closed as he tried to compose himself.

"You're okay?" You whispered, pushing a strand of sweaty golden hair out of his face. He weakly nodded and opened his eyes, piercing your own with his green orbs. He gently pulled out, not without a whine from you, feeling way too empty after the moment you just shared. He grabbed his jeans and pulled them on before taking his shirt and pouring some clean water on it. You watched him carefully, laying naked on the bed, still floating in your post-orgasm euphoria. He kneeled in front of the fire and held out his damp shirt for a few second, warming up the garment before walking back to you. He delicately pulled your thighs apart and watched his release drip out of you before cleaning you up with the warm wet shirt. "I'm sorry, that was stupid of me to finish inside." He whispered as he massaged your thigh with his free hand. "It's alright." You sat up and kissed him on the lips. You offered him a smile and he gave you one back.

He went to grab your chemise and your undergarment and gave them to you before he slid under the covers, pulling you onto him when you were done dressing back up. He wrapped his arms around you and inhaled the sweet perfume in your hair, probably a new soap you found in town. He closed his eyes, relishing on the feeling of your body against his, nothing to hear except the crackling of the flammes in the fireplace. No Micah annoying the ladies, no Bill telling some perverse story. Only the fire and your breathing, the feeling of your beating heart against your chest. Those long awaited three words almost made their way out of Arthur's lips that night, but he caught them and swallowed them back, feeling like it wasn't the right time. so he simply held you close, his heart beating in symbiosis with yours.