#v: along the queue | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

penvisions · 4 months

Text

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 7}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Summary: A letter, clear words, the work forged by skilled but aching hands, all of it helps you to heal from what had been one of the worst weeks of your life.

Word Count: 13.3k (!!)

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, age gap (reader is early 40's and joel is 57), pining, requited unrequited love, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, mild injuries, confessions, lots of feelings, light angst, hurt and comfort, fighting, two (2) satisfying slaps, joel miller's hands need their own warning, smut, p in v, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), soft joel, pet names (sweetheart), serious conversations, apologies, references to child loss, minor character death, blood, talk of female anatomy, reader has no assigned name but has a commonly used nickname, lemme know if i missed any major ones!

A/N: SURPRISE, Y'ALL!! i was supposed to have internet installed this week but it's been delayed again and my local library is only open today and since queues make me nervous, i threw caution to the wind and yeah - WE MADE IT. this is the final chapter! i am so delighted and humbled by the responses to this fic. i put a lot of myself into olive and for everyone to root for her and cheer her on means so, terribly much to my lil heart. i love y'all and i hope this finds you well ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || navigation || ko-fi

The hush of cardstock is the only sound in the room as Joel shuffles through the recipes you had written down for him, for him and Ellie. The fancy loops of your cursive are faded, a little blurred in some spots and he regretted your time and devotion getting smudged by his lack of attention. He had been too slow to retrieve all the index cards where they had landed, flying into the air as you had run straight into his back. It had taken so long because Marsha hadn’t seemed to get the hint or his direct words that he was not and would not be with her the way that she wished for him to be.

But she did now. She had been picking Millie up when Joel had all but kicked the door in, shouts of needing help echoing down the street. The woman had flattened herself to the wall, eyes taking in your unconscious form in Joel’s arms. How carefully he maneuvered, how mindful he was to not jostle your body too much, how frantic his expression was even as he tried to explain what he could to the nurse and doctor who sprang forward at the sight. His brows were drawn together, worry evident as he explained to them your stitches from a few days ago had opened, how you had been coughing up blood before he found you. The fear in his strong voice when he detailed how cold you were, how unresponsive. All of it combined was a reflection of his care for you. Something only seen in his interactions with Ellie. And now with you.

Joel had felt pride surge in his chest at seeing the damage you had inflicted on the other woman, guilt flaring just seconds after. You had been pushed to your breaking point, not just by her but by everyone in your life. Evidence of the fight was etched across your body from the scratches from the woman’s nails up and down your arms, the tangled tresses of your loose hair, to the bruises that had blossomed along your soft skin.

The most notable with the tearing of your stitches. The stain of blood on your skin in places he couldn’t wipe it away, for fear of harming you further, even in your unconscious state. It had been three days, and you still hadn’t woken up. Even after the repair to the wound, a better stitch pattern was implemented and two blood transfusions. One from him and one from Tommy.

He hadn’t wanted to leave your side since he brought you in, but he had things he needed to take care of. The few people who interacted with you coming in and checking on you, him coming to spend each evening by your bedside and staying through the night. Maria was across from him now, Macon sound asleep in her arms as the clock ticking on the wall displayed the post sunset hour.

“Marsha will be interrogated at the next town meetings, for her behavior and words towards Olive.”

“Good.” Joel croaked, his voice gravely from disuse.

“Millie will be on next week’s patrol with you, per your request. Once she’s adequately trained, she’ll be added to the rotation.”

“If she takes to being trained. I have a feeling she might pretend to not learn anythin’ just to get out of it.”

“We’ll make sure she doesn’t,” Maria hummed in agreement, knowing more than Joel the small requests and complaints the woman has made in her time behind the walls. “It’s time some of the people who have been idle share the responsibility. Besides, Olive requested to be taken off patrol before. I’m sure she’ll double down on that once she’s recovered.”

“Please tell me she didn’t hate being forced to be my partner when Tommy asked. I don’t think I could ever apologize enough if it was somethin’ she didn’t want to-“

“Joel, she was okay with it, believe me.” Moving to stand, the woman reached to rest a hand on your legs beneath the blankets. “She was glad to feel like she was trusted enough to be asked. She never had any ill feelings toward you, even when she didn’t know you.”

She watches him, he can feel the weight of her stare on him as he continues to go over each of the cards contents. There’s a bag beside him, a small canvas thing he had loaded up with some spare pieces of lumber from bigger projects, scraps that he spent the evening hours whittling and carving as he sits beside you bed. He alternates between doing that and going over the cards, habits to keep him awake as he sits vigil and waits for you to return to him.

“I wasn’t sure what to expect when you came back. But…you surprised me.”

“How so?” He knows he was always a sore and heavy subject between her and his brother. Even more so when he quite literally stumbled onto their doorstep. He had been determined to change, to give back into the second chance at life he had been handed, for Ellie, for his brother– for himself. Aligning himself with the customs and way of life carved out in the plains of Wyoming. He’s glad he hadn’t fallen completely to the depraved, hallowed out version he had adapted to, had been forced to become with the loss of everything he knew, with the loss of his daughter.

“You’ve meshed well with the lifestyle we created here, got onto good terms with one of the best people we have here.”

He didn’t look up from the cards in his hands, he knew that. Deep down, he knew you hadn’t minded patrolling with him. But it was hard to understand with how messed up everything was at the moment and he lost himself to the circling thoughts of how hurt you had looked as you stood your ground with him a few days ago in your kitchen. But his head shot up when a whimper sounded into the air that wasn’t from the woman or his nephew.

You were stirring in the bed, eyes still closed. Hands shaking as they raised to cradle your middle, mind no doubt recalling the circumstances of your last waking moments. Joel’s heartbeat was loud in his chest, echoing in the spot where they had drawn blood from the inside crook of his right elbow. Macon gurgled in Maria’s hold, wide eyes cut towards you as you shifted a little underneath the blankets.

“Joel…” You murmured, eyes clenching shut tightly. You weren’t rousing, you were still unconscious, though your mind seemed to be in working order if you were dreaming. Joel sets down the index cards atop the blankets over you, moving closer to grip a hand with both of his, the other laid out flat to ensure the line of the IV didn’t get tangled or kinked.

“I’m here. It’s okay, you’re okay. ‘m not going anywhere, you hear me? I’m right here, Olive.” He soothed you as best he could, the wrap of your fingers around his stirring his heart to beat faster in his ribcage.

As he’s leaving the morning, a patrol that he would be taking Ellie out on with the approval of the council to begin her training as well, he see’s the shadow of two figures approach your room out of the corner of his eye just as he’s placing a parting kiss on your forehead.

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t know anyone would be here this early.” It’s the sister and brother pair you had insisted on bringing back. The woman, Callie Joel thinks her name is, is holding a hand to her swollen stomach protruding out from beneath her long coat. It looks like it wouldn’t fasten with how far along she was. Nolan, the man who had been with you when this whole mess started was a step behind her and a bouquet of dried flowers clenching in his hand.

“It’s okay, was jus’ leavin’.”

“Look, Mr. Miller.” Nolan steps up to him, leaving a few feet of space as Joel turns to head to the door while Callie sidles up to take the chair he had slept in and scoot it close to your unconscious form. “I tried my best to tamp down the fight, but Olive, she’s…she’s a scrappy one. Was on that other girl before I could even blink.”

“Millie. The other one’s name is Millie.”

“Millie did this?” Callie questions from her spot holding your hand in hers, eyes wide. “She’s been so nice to me, I had dinner with her and her mom just last week…”

“Millie ‘n Olive don’t get along too well, bad history.” Joel hopes he isn’t overstepping your privacy by saying so, but if the two were intent on being at least friendly with you, they deserved to know that not everyone was so forward in their interactions with you. “Patrol gone wrong, they both lost someone important to them and Millie didn’t deal with it well.”

“She called her a whore, when she saw us talking.” Nolan explained, “Olive moved first and apologized, but all hell broke loose when Millie hit her back.”

“She what?” Joel felt anger burn hot through his veins, the implication of you being anything other than kind and thoughtful not sitting well with him. No wonder you had snapped, Joel hadn’t found out exactly what had occurred, the council stemming the raging gossip as best they could as soon as it began to spread. Reminding people to deal with personal issues in non-confrontational ways or punishment would be doled out and extra duties would be tacked on.

The two fell quiet, feeling the anger simmering in him. Joel’s face had darkened, brow furrowed deep and his jaw ticking as he tried to get a control on it.

“Y’all have a good day.” He manages before he’s out the door, his steps even and nearly silent as he makes his way out of the infirmary. He’s at Marsha’s in the blink of an eye, fist knocking against the wood of their front door.

“Marsha isn’t home, she’s serving out her punishment by taking over Olive’s morning shifts at the mess hall.” Maria’s voice calls to him as she strolls down the street. Macon is in her arms, but he’s fussing. She stops and places him in the baby carriage in front of her and quiets him with a pacifier. “Millie is out getting the rundown of how patrol works and what her responsibilities are.”

“Did you know that Millie called-“

“Yes. It’s been dealt with.” Maria’s voice implied she didn’t agree with what happened, that it was indeed being considered with much thought, not taken lightly with how it built up to the point of combustion in the town’s center on one of the busiest nights.

“Easy now, honey, there you go.” Tommy’s soothing voice allowed for you to feel less embarrassed about how slow moving you were, how long it was taking to trek from the infirmary to your house. His arm was around your waist, his other in front of him as he held onto your right hand for added support. “Joel will probably be knocking on your door the second he gets back from patrol and finds you gone from the clinic.”

“He can knock all he wants.” You huffed out, not too sure how you were feeling toward the man at the moment. Once you had woken up, the nurses told you he hadn’t left your side during the nights you had been there. Tommy and Maria sharing with you the way he had been frantic to find you the second he had found out about your fight with Millie. The decision of you no longer wanting to do patrol being portrayed as a punishment for your violent outburst. But the council held no real ill will toward you, having addressed the behavior you faced from more than a few of the townspeople.

“Marsha is due to cover your shifts at the mess hall, the early ones. Until you’re ready to go back.”

“Dunno, think she needs more ‘n a week or two tackling that hectic shift.”

“There’s my girl,” Tommy beamed, glad to know you weren’t too injured to show the side of yourself he knew.

As you turned down your street, Tommy let go of you at your insistence to try and support yourself. After a few stumbling steps, you managed to find your balance, even if your pace was still on the slow side.

“Joel ‘n I fixed your door. Well, we made a new one, actually. Old man did some damage to the other one when his big bulky frame was pushed into it by those storm winds,” He chuckled, most likely picturing the ordeal that was far more tense and serious than a mishap on Joel’s part. It had been…one of the hardest things you had to do, stand your ground and deny the man you had come to care. Especially in the face of him practically confessing to you that he shared in your feelings. “Cranked the heat up to get it back to the temperature you prefer. Even watered the plants for you, fed that stray that comes around sometimes. I think it found the crate you set up for it on your back porch.”

“You’re too sweet, Tommy. Thank you.” You watched as he unlocked the door and for the first time since leaving the infirmary you noticed how he was constantly shifting. His weight from foot to foot, his hands raking through his long, dark curls.

He helped you up the few steps of your stoop, his hands a gentle weight, arms ready to tense and catch you should you lose your balance. Once you were settled in your bed, a bottle of pain killers and a glass of water on your bedside, the man tentatively settled on the foot of your bed.

“I wanted to apologize, formally.” He started, brown eyes glittering in the midafternoon sunlight filtering in through the blinds. You leaned up from the pillows propped up behind your back and up against the fabric headboard, about to say something but he held up a wide palm to stop you. “You told me ‘n Maria in passing the behavior people have toward you. It was out of our control, freedom of speech ‘n all but…we should’ve at least tried to tamp it down more than we did.”

“Tommy, everyone has already done so much in letting me in, giving me a chance. I did-didn’t want to stir any trouble and it wasn’t real-really anything I couldn’t handle.”

“Honey…” He stands up and nestles himself between you and the edge of the bed, his back on the headboard right next to you. He brings you into his chest and kisses into the crown of your head as you return the embrace. something he hadn’t done since you appeared back at Jackson’s gates with blood covering you head to toe and the corpse of your friend draped over the back of your horse. “You deserve to feel comfortable, to feel safe. No matter what.”

The next morning, after a night spent tossing and turning, you shuffled down the hallway and into the kitchen without turning on a light. It was still dark out, using what little of the streetlight so close to the front of your house filtered in through the sheer curtains. When you sat at the kitchen table, you tried to set your mug down but there was a clatter as the bottom of it collided with something already resting there. And the space next to it, it seemed the whole table was covered in stuff, leaving no room for you to set it. Mumbling about people being in your house and rearranging your stuff, you shuffled over to the lamp atop the storage hutch’s middle shelf.

But you’re shocked when you flick the light on and turn back around to the table. It’s…covered. Every inch of the surface taken up by small stacks of what looks like intricately carved plates, serving trays, spoons, spatulas, and small figures that look like birds moving in a downward swoop. The coffee still in your hand splashes a little to the tile beneath your bare feet, starting you as it bounces up to kiss the skin of your ankles. But you pay it no mind as you absently set it on the hutch beside the light and move to the table with watering eyes.

It had to have been him. Joel.

The plates are beautiful, vaguely floral shaped and stained such a deep mahogany. They’re not too heavy, though they are very sturdy in your inspecting hands. Turning each one from the three separate stacks of them, each a different size from dessert to salad to serving plates, reveal a small J.M branded into the wood. Each of the leaf shaped serving trays reveal the same, though they are heavier and a bit harder for you to turn over in your weakened state. Large smoothed edged bowls are nestled in each other, the topmost one holding matching large serving spoons made your heart lurch and your stomach swoop.

The carving had been lovingly attended to because each rivet and swirl, each boarder and flat surface, it was all so seamlessly smooth. On evert single piece littering your table.

Tears are trailing down your cheeks to rest atop his intricate creations. The sight of two sets of spoons and two sets of spatulas held together with twine making you have to clap a hand over your mouth as a sob wracks through your body. The memory of hurling the ones you had requested from him flashing too bright and loud. You had taken something crafted by him and thrown in across this very kitchen, disrespecting the time and attention he had devoted to the request you had made.

Collapsing into the chair, you let the emotions of the last week take over you. Your coffee is lukewarm when you rise to retrieve it, but you twirl a carved bird in your hand as you sip from it, tears waned for the moment. That’s when you spot the large, flattened pieces on the other side of the table.

Cutting boards, three of them. Each one with a branding on the thick sides to label them individually for herbs, vegetables, and meat. The entire surface of each it sealed with a coating, but beneath it on the corners are floral patterns that you squint your eyes to take a closer look at. Gasping, you realize he had depicted the blooms often found on olive trees. His voice suddenly rings in your head as your mind recalls something you weren’t even conscious for but had filed away.

‘I made you one…I made them all for you. All of them, every single one….C’mon, sweetheart. You gotta let me save you so you’ll have one. I’ll give you anything, I’ll give you everything. Olive, please.’

‘I’m here. It’s okay, you’re okay. ‘m not going anywhere, you hear me? I’m right here, Olive.’

The tears flow, with no end in sight as you reach a shaking hand for the note you see laying atop the largest one.

‘Olive, I know I’m shit with words, I know I’ve sent such mixed signals with everything. But I want you to know, need you to know that seeing you is the best part of my day, of every day. Even if it’s just across the mess hall, across the street, as I walk home from patrol and see you in the window of your kitchen with a soft smile. The talks we have, the questions we share, every single word we’ve exchanged as made me feel worthy of the things you think of me, for the first time in a long while.

You are such an extraordinary, kind, thoughtful person and I am so lucky to have made it here to Jackson to cross paths with you. I can’t change what happened, but each hitch of your breath, each tug of the brim of your hat over your eyes, each moment spent with you makes me want to wrap you up in my arms and keep you close. I don’t want the first time you hear the words from me to be in writing, but, Olive. I fear I’ve fallen for you, and it’s made me such a fool. Please take these gifts for what they are, a representation of how I think of you every second of every day. Of how you inspire me to be a better person. Of how much love I have for you. J.M.’

Your coffee goes completely cold as you sit at the table, reading the note over and over again.

The gentle knock on your door kickstarted your heart, fluttering hard in your chest as you knew who was on the other side of the repaired wood. You turned the burner off on the stove top, shifting it to rest atop one of the cooler ones. You called for the man who held your heart to ‘wait a second, please’ before you turned to the table and reached for one of the serving bowls, spooning out the steamed contents of the pan into it and placed it back among the others already atop the table. The table was full, dishes coloring the spread laid out across the table. The rest of his gifts had been carefully places in the hutch along the back wall, some of them displayed behind the glass of the topmost part.

Toasted sandwiches cut into triangles rested atop one of the leaf serving trays, the one you had just filled up with three different types of steamed and roasted vegetables. A glass pitcher of fresh juice you pressed earlier a deep red and shining in the flames from candles interspersed between the trays and plates. You nervously ran your hands down the front of your apron, a worn but loved patterned thing that wrapped around the back of your neck and at the back of your waist.

The brownies looked a little thick, now that you took a second to consider them. A rich buttercream piped into a swirling tower amid them stacked up on one of the larger flower plates. The midsize ones set in front of two chairs with empty glasses and clean utensils beside them. All set up, all waiting.

For him, for Joel.

Moving to the door, you paused and took a deep breath to calm yourself, the titter of shyness you weren’t sure you would ever overcome when it came to the man on the other side. Reaching for the lock, you clicked it out of its setting and twisted the handle to open the door.

Joel was stood there, silhouetted against the bright winter sun, the broadness of his shoulders and the volume of his curls on display so close for you. His head had been hanging, one hand on the wall beside the door. And when he looked up to catch your eyes, your breath hitched and you felt your fingers twitch at the urge to pull him close. To let him make his written words a reality and cradle you in his arms.

“I-I got your no-note. And the – the things you left f-for me.”

“Did you,” He cleared his throat, hand moving from where it was supporting him to fall to his side, clenching and unclenching in that own nervous habit he had. His eyes roved up and down your body, taking the image you were making in your doorway. You felt like you looked okay, but your hair was a little frizzed out from the heat of cooking. And you were so, incredibly self-conscious. He was such a handsome man, and you were…just you. His voice was shaky, something you couldn’t ever recall hearing from someone normally so controlled. “Did you…like everythin’ alright?”

“It’s all so perfect. Th-thank you.” You smoothed your hands down the front of the apron again, nervous and unsure of how to approach him even as your body hummed in anticipation from the thought of it. He loved you. And you loved him back.

“And the- the note?”

“Y-yeah.” You couldn’t bring your eyes up to meet his, too self-conscious with how all uncharted everything seemed to be.

“I’m so fucking sorry. I-“ He surged forward through the open door, but his boots scuffed as he cut the movement short. You had unconsciously stepped back, nerves alight from the last time you had been approached. Muscles twitching, your arms tingled with the way you tried to relax from the sudden tension that had flooded your entire body. Fight or flight activated. You could see the way his throat bobbed with the nervous swallow he took before sighing out a deep breath. “Olive, I swear to you, I- you’re so good. The sweetest, prettiest thing I’ve had the pleasure of knowing in my time and if you’ll let me, I’ll be a good man for you. I’ll be a good man with you.”

“Joel, I-“ Your words choked off into a sob, tears trialing hot down your cheeks as your emotions spiked and cascaded over you. Hands trembling as you did reach out for him, fingers wrapping around the unzipped edges of his thick jacket. He moved into you, his own hands coming up to cradle your cheeks as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m right here, I’m with you. Not goin’ anywhere unless you want me to, okay?” He holds you, letting you bury your tear-stained face into his neck. The flow of them still falling from your eyes dampening the fabric of his flannel.

“D-do you want some lunch?” A shy smile pulled at your lips, heat blooming in your chest even as the tears continue to fall.

He seems to release all of the tension in his shoulders as he sighs out something relieved. You can tell he’s a little confused by the question, but he wasn’t going to turn it down. The opportunity to spend time with you, to talk to you. He had come here, after all, not even knowing where you two stood after everything. Fresh from a patrol, you could smell the lingering scent of hay from the stables on him. The leather from his gloves sliding along and holding the reigns of his horse. Nodding, you finally manage to meet his eyes and your breath hitches even as a pang of worry echoes in your chest.

“H-how was patrol?” You wait for him to take a seat before you go to pick up the pitcher and pour him some of the juice you had made. His hands are a soft hush over yours as he takes it from you and pours himself a glass before reaching for your own empty one with a lopsided smile.

“It was good, took Ellie out for her first one. She’s been buggin’ me about it since the start of winter.”

“Is she going to be my replacement? I don’t want her to feel like she has to if she’s not ready.” His eyes move over your face as you spoon steaming vegetables onto his plate and then yours.

“Maria agreed with me that Millie should be trained up, she’s starting with me next week. It’s part of her punishment for instigating the fight.”

“Oh.” Another thing for the woman and her mother to hold against you. You worried for a second of how much damage you had done to her in your near fugue state but then realized if she was okay enough to start patrol then she was far better off than you happened to be.

“We don’t have to talk about that or we- we can, if you want to. Just…just want to talk with you. About anything.” About anythin’, about nothin’.”

The conversation isn’t much from then on, but it’s enough to hold his attention. You’re tired, so incredibly tired and lethargic from the emotional morning you had, from putting all the food spread over the table together, not much of it left after Joel devours a lot of it. Starvin’ he had said through a bite, pink tinging his ears as you offered to make another sandwich for him. He had assured you everything you had made was enough and now a half pot of coffee sits in mugs in front of you each, brownies bitten into after dipping it in the frosting you had made.

As soon as his two were swallowed, he turned beseeching, wide eyes to you and you found moving to stand between his legs. His arms were so warm around you, the food and his company weighing you down in the best way as you wrap your own around his neck. His face is buried in your chest while you press a kiss to his steel curls, something that worries you for a split second before he sighs out a small ‘you’re so soft, sweetheart’.

“I-I want to talk more, but,” Your weight sagged against him, his arms tightening around you to help keep you on your feet. “I’m so tired, Joel. I think I need to lay down.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I understand, lemme just- I’ll clean up lunch and get out of your hair, go on and rest.” But you didn’t move, your breath hitching as you leaned back enough to peer up at him. Your eyes surely gave away how drained you were, but you weren’t quite yet ready to let him go. Even if things were a little stilted and there was so much to discuss. Right now you just wanted to lay down, to get off your feet and relieve some of the tension on your stitches.

“W-will you stay?”

“Of course.”

He follows silently behind you, boots thudding on the hardwood flooring of the hallway. Each step matching the beating of your heart. Through the door and into your room, you realize he must’ve already been in here, it was so tidy and the laundry that had piled up was neatly folded atop your dresser.

If he’s just as nervous as you are, he doesn’t show it. Seemingly taking things as they come, letting you shrug him from the flannel you had unbuttoned. When you move your hands to the buckle of his belt, one of his large hands covers both of yours. Looking up, you reassure him nothing has to happen and that you aren’t ready for anything to happen but you don’t want the denim on your clean sheets. He nods, letting you continue to disrobe him. A shaky laugh falls from his plush lips as you notice the line of him through his boxer briefs, it twitches under your quick glance, and you feel a swoop in your own stomach in response.

He asks if you need to change to, offering to turn around. But you grip his wrists and bring his hands to the ties at the side. It’s a loose thing, to help you manage to move around better, the prospect of pants and a belt too daunting despite the season. He carefully lifts the fabric from your body, his eyes on your face the entire time, even as the clothing falls to pile on top of his. With a nervous giggle, you lead him to the bed and you both get comfortable underneath the covers. It’s early, not even the sun has set, but neither of you seem to mind the time.

He's settled against the pillows when you reach out a hand on your normal side of the bed, fingers tangling with his as you lay slightly on your side toward him. The bandages around your middle are obvious underneath the camisole you wear with your underwear. He’s facing you too, his other hand moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I…I want to.” Your words are barely above a whisper, as you take in the image he creates beside you, filling the empty part of your bed with his broad frame. His steel curls flattened on the pillow, his warmth only a few inches away, his eyes soft and watching you as you collect the words from your mind to fill your tongue. It had been something you yearned for since that first brush of his hand against yours, that first smile you managed to pull from him with an offhand comment, from the first moment he asked you a question in return to one of your own. Even if someone else had shown you the same kindness, his would be the one you sought after. “Be with you.”

“I want that too, sweetheart, more’n anything, but…I hurt you. I know that, I was careless in my attempts to be careful, to not push you. To…surprise you with what I wanted to be the first thing I gifted you.”

“Tommy told me. You know I thought some kids stole that piece of the trunk?” Your eyes glitter with a hint of mirth, teasing tone light and reminiscent of times past. It’s fleeting, the bone deep exhaustion settled in your body not only physical but mental. “I…Joel, I worry about…everything. All the time. You deserve to the chance to thrive here, for Ellie to thrive here and…being with me would-“

“I’d choose you over the town any day, you’ve gotta know that. Me and Ellie, we’ve been through a lot but we’re tough, you don’t gotta worry about us. I know…that people see her lack of manners and anxious tendencies as something that needs to be fixed. Maybe, yeah, the little troublemaker could stand to hold her tongue sometimes but she’s so young, she’s got a lot to unlearn from being raised the way she was. She’s a good kid, she’s good but you are too. We’ll take it slow, because I haven’t done this dance in while, hell, ever really. And I want to do it right, I want to be what you want because I definitely know you don’t need me.”

“I haven’t needed for anything in a long time, but Joel Miller believe me when I saw my days are better when they’re spent with you. Even…even the bad ones to an extent.”

“I’ll apologize a thousand times.” He tightens his grip, tired eyes trained on them. There’s a sadness to them, the depths of which he had let you glimpse once before. Loss, pain, devastation in the wake of when the world has broken and then turned into. You share in that sadness, having lost the person you had devoted your life to protecting, having lost the life you had just begun to flourish in before it was ripped from your hands, having lost a child that you could still hear crying in your sleep some nights…

The words are on the tip of your tongue, the need for comfort from the one person you wanted it from, needed it from. It was true that you had been complacent before him, not concerned with the things people felt the need to pursue in the lives they felt safe enough to pursue here in the town. That he stroked yearning in the very core of who you were, something you hadn’t ever experienced even back when the world was thriving and bustling as it once had been.

“Can we j-just kiss a-and start to move for-forward?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think I exactly deserve that right now…” Your face falls. The small, shy smile dipping and the sides of your mouth dropping into a frown as you feel the burn of tears prickle again behind your cheeks. The rejection hurts, even if you understand why he feels that way and agree with him to an extent that this situation isn’t going to magically fix itself.

“But I do.”

He doesn’t even think to argue, not with the way that he’s leaning close to touch his soft lips to yours as soon as the words leave them.

“I’ve gotta get goin’, sweetheart.” Joel’s whisper roused you, so close you reached for him. Long fingers curling around his wrist, nails lightly scratching the soft skin there. He felt the cumulation of inching out of bed slowly and quietly to not wake you as the vain attempt it was. He should’ve known his efforts would be fruitless, his resolve chipping away to nothing when you breathed his name out on a sleepy sigh. “I got training patrol. Be back early this afternoon, bring you something from the mess hall, alright sweetheart?”

You only hummed in response, lips pressed against his wrist now, sending tingling trickles of sensation all over his body at the easy way in which you displayed your affection for him now. It had been a couple of weeks. Two weeks of you making dinner one night, then walking him through another the next day. Of coffee in the mornings when he wasn’t busy, the never-ending list housed on the spiral notepad in his back pocket present in only the worn fabric over his pockets, the actual thing mysteriously gone. A break for the season, he has said when you asked him, palming the fabric of his back pockets one day.

As you lay in bed, dozing back off in the wake of his departure, Joel is outside the gates with a nervous Millie astride a horse beside him. They stop on as Joel figures an open field a few miles away would be the best bet for practice. Far enough for the sound of gunfire to not echo back and alarm people but close enough to rush back should something go awry.

“Know anythin’ about guns?” He looks over to the younger woman, her eyes wide and her head on a swivel as she constantly takes in her surrounds. He feels a little bad that she’s so on edge, but the only way to make her more comfortable is to get her out more and more. Allow her to see that it doesn’t have to be all bad. But he does understand her reaction, she’s never been outside the walls, had never been outside the town that it was before the walls went up. She had been younger than you when the world shattered, had people to look after her and care for her.

“My daddy taught me how to shoot them when the world fell apart. But that was…a long time ago now.”

“Okay, well, we’re gonna see what suits you better. On patrol we use shotguns, but a handgun will do in a pinch. The key is range, keeping any threat as far away as possible.”

“Yes, Mr. Miller.” She watches him closely as he removes the shotgun slung around his back. He checks that the safety is secured and he holds it out to her as she moves to stand beside him at the beckoning of his hand. He walks her through the general mechanics of the gun, firm in her not placing her finger on the trigger until she was ready to shoot.

“Are you right or left handed?”

“Um…I favor my left.” He hands off the gun to her, telling her to practice her grip on the large gun while he rummages in one of the packs attached to his saddle. He’s got a cloth bag that he fills with snow and ice that coats the ground, propping it up a good distance away on top of a long dead tree stump.

Time passes and her aim gets a little better, though she’s taking too long to line up her shots. Joel reminds her to just take a breath in and shoot as she exhales. But the words cut off as he sees movement on the horizon of their spot on in the field. He’s off a ways from her, by the target he had set up for the woman to practice on. He’s turned to hold a halting hand up to her before he takes his own gun out from the holster and puts one of them down.

Another sprints from the cover of the forest nearby, but he’s focused on taking down the other two far too close for comfort. Just as he turns to take out the one closing in on him, it lunges and he’s struggling not to fall with the sudden weight slamming into him. His gun goes flying and he curses out as he tries to fend it off with his arms, the snapping of its mangled teeth loud and far too close to his face.

He wishes he had spent a few more minutes with you in bed, pressing his lips to your forehead to your cheek, to your plush lips, to any part of your body he could as the bullet ripped through him and pain sparked hot across his entire chest. Through it, he manages throw the stunned thing to the ground, another shot flying from across the field to land directly in the back its head. Joel is looking up as he bends down to retrieve his gun, his other hand pressing hard to the burning in his shoulder. Millie is too focused on him to see the blur running toward her, too late in her shifting attention as it grips her shoulder tights. Taking a deep breath, Joel tries to focus as best he can to line up his aim and take out the single Infected that remained.

He shoots and it goes down.

His shoulder throbs and his vision darkens at the edges.

“Joel!” You shout, simmering panic making you forget common manners as you burst through the door leading into the main exam room of the infirmary. There are three beds lined up on the opposite wall, other rooms set up for more serious cases that required overnight stays. Millie and Joel are settled into two of them, the younger trembling and holding her right shoulder while Joel is pressing a kerchief to his front, blood soaking it through.

Marsha is already plastered to the side of her daughter’s bed. Making no noise whatsoever, which was just as uncomforting as you realized how pale she they both were. Blood splattered over Joel while Millie looked relatively unharmed.

Millie launches into a jumble of words as she gets up from the bed, but you stop her in your tracks with a chilling look over your shoulder as you go immediately to Joel’s side.

“You need to back the fuck up, Millie. I told you I’m not engaging with you anymore, now go back to your own bed and mind your business.”

Turning from them, your eyes land on Joel and he’s barely able to keep his eyes open as he lays across the bed. Your heart stutters, as does your voice the closer you get to him.

“You two are just perfect for each other with your penchant for harsh words.” Jealousy was ugly on the older woman, making her act out towards you but more concerningly towards Joel. He hadn’t done anything wrong, even in the moments he had let his anger flare around her and he scolded her for her manipulation and childish behavior. He had told you all about it, about every interaction between them to tide your hurt feelings and assumptions about them. He hadn’t needed to do it, but he had wanted to be completely transparent. To share with you the things he experienced.

“And you would be just perfect for recognizing harsh words, wouldn’t you?” You fire back, not even bothering to look over your shoulder at the woman who had caused so much grief and anxiety. Your words seem to stun her, as she doesn’t rebuff you in anyway, but you feel guilt flash at the kneejerk reaction, still so worried about upsetting anyone or instigating anything remotely unfriendly. But Joel was bleeding and it you were far more worried about him at the moment.

“What ha-hap-happened? That’s so mu-much blood!”.” You ask him quietly, concerned with how his unseen injuries could be affecting him. His fingers twitch, letting you know he was trying to reach out for you. You sidle up beside him, hands reaching for his left as your wide eyes take in the expanse of his naked chest. The nurse has on pink stained white. One of the nurses bursts through the open door, ignoring the tension in the room, quickly getting to work with the tray of equipment she brought in. Her pristine gloves immediately take on a pink stain, blood gushing over his front as she digs a pair of long tweezers into a large bullet hole. She exposes in his right shoulder once she peels back the collar of his jacket and cuts away the tattered collar of his undershirt. “J-Joel, did you g-get ambushed by In-Infected? Or was it peop-people?”

“Was an accident.” He grunts out, hand tightening over yours as the nurse works to stall the bleeding.

“Millie sh-shot you?” You feel ire bubble up ugly and thick, heart beating hard at the thought of Joel out there with no protection other than the person in question, the person who had no idea how to begin to fend for herself or an injured person beyond the walls. She had been so young when the world broke, a few years younger than Aiden had been when you took him as your responsibility, his parents being the first to turn in the restaurant.

“Oh, would you shut up with that god-awful stuttering? Grown woman can’t even speak properly in a moment of crisis.”

“Mother!”

“Making a bad situation worse by simply being here, why don’t you let the nurse take care of him and just leave?”

“Mother, enough! That is no way to talk to Olive, she puts her life on the line every time she goes out beyond the walls. She and Mr. Miller have helped to make this a safe place, you should show her respect and leave her be!”

“Millie Antoinette, that is no way to speak to me.”

“You’re going to lecture me on language with the way you’ve been slinging backhanded insults about Olive all these years? Blaming her for something completely out of her control, berating her for her stutter when you know she can’t help it because the whole town makes her feel like she’s walking on eggshells.”

“This conversation is not over, we will continue this at home.”

Finally turning to look over your shoulder at the way she began to take out her frustrations on Millie, your eyes were set hard and your displeasure was obvious as you took in the way Millie’s good arm was being held far too tightly by the woman.

“Why do-don’t you just keep my na-name out of any future conversations you may have. You’ve caused enough damage, your own daughter paying for your actions and getting injured because of it. Joel getting injured because of it. No one is to blame but you and the influence you’ve lorded over her all these years. Twisting and tainting the memory of the man she loved, the man I devoted my life to protecting and ensuring he got to live a somewhat normal one after the world fell apart. He wouldn’t have wanted her to harbor such ill feelings toward me, toward what happened. But you turned it into something to use against me and you hurt her worst of all, teaching her it was okay to behave like such a child!” Your

You’re breathing heavy by the end of your outburst, finding your voice after stuttering through the first words. Unconsciously reaching for and tightening the hold on Joel’s hand through the entire exchange. He squeezes it in reassurance, through the nurse’s ministrations.

“You tell ‘er.” Joel slurs as the nurse secured a large patch of gauze over his would, betadine staining the edges of the material. The action of pressing down the tape around the corners making him hiss out a pained breath and your attention focuses on him once again.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, you ungrateful little-“ You could feel her approach you from behind and you let go of Joel’s hand, not wanting to jostle him should she push or shove you. She was about your height so when you swung your hand out, your palm landed right on her cheek with enough force to turn her head as the sharp slap echoed around the room.

Red blossomed bright on her skin. Her fingers twitched and you landed another hit without thinking before she could make a more intentional move.

“I know you were not about to touch me,” The feeling of your lip lifting up in a slight snarl was unpleasant, but you couldn’t help the visceral reaction to the woman after everything she had done.

Even in the wake of trying to be polite and cordial with her when you thought her and Joel were a thing, she had shown you thinly veiled niceness in return. Her eyes always watching, much like a hawk stalking its prey. But you wouldn’t be her prey any longer, unwilling to play the part she had bestowed upon you for no good reason. You weren’t a malicious person, you weren’t a violent person. Not anymore. You were kind and thoughtful and did everything you could to be nice and help out where you were needed or wanted, and you would not put up with the woman any longer.

She raised her hand up once the shock of your quick movement wore off and you used the back of your forearm to knock it down, your hand sliding down her arm to capture her wrist in your grip. Her widened eyes found yours and you hoped, fleetingly, that she was unnerved. She cried out when her wrist began to smart underneath the force of your grip, trying to pull it from you but you didn’t budge. She was a fool to think using her free hand to pry at the fingers you had wrapped around her to no avail. You saw the thought for her to raise it at you flash across her face before you felt Joel’s hand gently pull at the back of your sweater.

“That’s enough, Marsha.” Maria’s voice was harsh, cutting into the scene suddenly. “Seeing as your daughter is in good hands, let’s have a little chat.”

The woman’s harsh expression, the twist of her mouth about to shape around a degrading insult, the furrow of her brow as she focused on you, it all fell away the second she realized she had an audience.

The nurse tending to Joel moved silently from Joel’s bedside to Millie’s as you released Marsha from your hold to follow behind Maria.

“Olive, I am so sorry. For everything. You’re right, Aiden wouldn’t have wanted any of this. I-I feel so…badly for how I’ve ignored you all these years when I should’ve been there to comfort you. You lost him too.” Millie cries as the nurse tends to her bruised and swollen shoulder, there now that Joel is taken care of. There was a large bruise marring her skin that was around angry looking welts, scratches that looked like they hadn’t broken the skin, no doubt from whatever occurred outside the walls. You tried focus on her, but it was hard with the adrenaline of confronting Marha thumping harshly through your entire body, Joel could surely feel the trembles where he held onto you.

“We were practicing shootin’ and a group of five or six of ‘em came outta the trees.”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, you began to peel back his opened flannel and shoved up the shirt he had on underneath. Hands frantic as you felt all around his body for signs of a bite. When you brushed against his groin to move down to his legs to check underneath the denim, you noticed he had fallen quiet. Looking up at him from where you were inspecting his shins, you clocked the way he rested the inside of his wrist over his zipper and belt buckle. His face was tinged a little pink at his cheeks and the tops of his ears.

“You could’ve led with that!”

“I’m okay, sweetheart. Millie shot the one that almost got me, but the first shot missed and then she took it down. She didn’t see the one comin’ up behind her cause she was so focused on helpin’ me.”

“Just lay back,” You croon sweetly, gently pushing the bulk of him to sit atop the bed.

“Yes, ma’am.” Joel groans, adjusting his hips as he scoots up to lean against the plush headboard.

It’s soft everywhere in your room, from the fabric of the headboard to your sheets and covers, to the dried flowers and sheer curtains hanging over the windows. He feels swaddled in the best way, completely wrapped up in the little world you’ve created in your space. The mix of him seen interspersed between your many books lining new shelves he crafted for you to replace the old, creaking ones worn down over time. A carved serving plate he had made for you, atop your bedside table and housing a tube of hand lotion, a note left from him the other day when he had to leave in the early hours. One of his flannels hanging up from a set of floral hooks he had made to go on the back of your door.

He was just a present influence in your home as you were in his. From the multiple bottles of oil scattered about his stove top, to the leftovers clearly labeled and stored in his fridge, to the pair of underwear that had ended up nestled with his in the top drawer of his dresser. The very ones you wore underneath his shirts when you slept over in his bed, making the sheets smell a heady combination of you both that had him seeing you in his dreams even more.

It had been a slow dance of homemade dinners, of nights spent in each other’s bed, of searing kisses and soft words shared between you both over the last two months. Both healed from the events that had allowed for the confusing and heartbreaking one to shift to this one, where it was obvious you both wanted each other, both had so much adoration for each other. But you were still so shy around Joel, never letting things go further than wandering hands sneaking beneath clothing.

But tonight, you were feeling so encompassed by the need to see him, to touch him, to be seen and touched by him in return. Tommy had let slip it was your birthday tomorrow when he asked if you were still coming around his and Maria’s for dinner. Joel had been confused why you hadn’t shared that with him, you knew when his birthday was after all. And everything that came tangled with the date.

“Joel,” You whispered against his lips, having moved to hover over his lap with your arms atop his shoulders. His hair had grown long, the thick locks brushed back by his large hands to swoop into gorgeous curls behind his ears and over the back of his neck. Nearly brushing the tops of his broad shoulders, he groaned out as you toyed with the ends of the long locks now. Nervous energy made it hard to keep your hands still and you confessed quietly as you ran your fingers through the curls. “I…I need to tell you something before we- before we, um, do this.”

“What is it, sweetheart?” His eyes blink open, concern and worry glinting in them as he takes in the way you’re worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. “We don’t have to do nothin’ if you don’t want to or aren’t ready. Just wanna be with you, no matter what.”

You start and stutter a few times, the words trailing off as your emotions spike and memories find their way to the surface. But it was the right thing to do, to share this part of your past with him. The potential for the mood to be ruined all to glaring as you realized it would be one of the heavier things you shared with the man who had become you partner in every definition of the word.

“Joel, I…I don’t have, um, I don’t have all my…parts.” Waving a hand over your lower stomach, right where you rested over his own. His confusion was obvious as he focused on the part of your body in question, his plush lips parting as he contemplated how to better ask for clarification. But you leaned back a little, your thighs tightened around his hips as you did so to pick up the hem of your camisole and unbutton the jeans you were still dressed in. A faded but thick scar ran from the bottom of your belly button, swooping below it in an imitation of a smile and then down in a straight line from the middle to disappear beneath the band of your underwear. It was completely healed, but still pink in discoloration.

“The doctors at the QZ we briefly stayed at in the beginning of everything…they did a hysterectomy after I had my…son.”

“Olive…” His hands raise from where they were around your hips, shaking slightly as he pauses in his reach to caress the marred skin. His eyes flash up to meet yours in a silent question for consent and at a small nod, he brushes the knuckle of his index finger over it. Shuddering at the soft touch, you watch the way emotions flit across his weathered face.

“They weren’t nice about it, I still…I still have pretty vivid nightmares about it because there was very little anesthesia, something about rationing the drugs and it…it was one of the most painful things I’ve had to endure. But…I thought you-you should know because I know you have some years on me, and you said you don’t think…an accident would happen and you seemed genuinely concerned because of my age. But it wo-won’t because of this.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel presses the palm of his right hand over the scar, the warmth of his skin soothing just as much as the kiss he placed on your cheek. “You’re…you’re okay though?”

“As okay as I can be about it,” You consoled his worry, breath hitching as he gently caressed the skin beneath his hand. “I waited until I was healed a year, when the threat of infection was long gone, then I took Aiden and…and Ezra and I got us the hell out of there.”

He didn’t ask how you lost Ezra, he didn’t berate you for your choice to leave the QZ, he didn’t ask how you had even ended up in that situation in the first place. He didn’t do anything but slowly move to where your back was on the bed, and he was hovering over you. Soft kisses and the brush of his mustache trailing over every inch of skin he could see. His fingers slid beneath the thin straps of your top in a silent question, and you sat up enough to allow him to life the garment from your body. Willing to show yourself to him, to take the offer of his soothing comfort. His breath puffed out at the sight of your naked chest, his fingers skimming up to brush against the supple skin and hardened peaks now on full display.

He clocks the way your fingers move to the buttons of his flannel and fumble, prompting him to take over for you to push it off his own shoulders, his undershirt disappearing along with it to the floorboards. But before you can move onto his belt, he’s gently pressing you back to the bed and pressing the plush softness of his lips to your body, trailing lower and lower until he brushes them so lightly over your scar.

Your breath hitches and you can feel the small smile as he takes his time to worship your body. To sooth the emotions he must know it took to confess something so big, to engage with him in this way even if you wanted to. Mind’s always tickin’ he would tease, no heat behind his words, but adoration.

Fingers skimming over soft skin, the callouses of time and skill a heady sensation over it ahead of his lips, he slowly shimmies the undone fabric of your jeans down your legs. He takes the time to undo and step out of his own pair before he’s back on the bed, attention focused on your legs as he begins to move up, up, up. Only giving you the barest of chances to take in the thick line of his hard cock as it twitches beneath dark fabric.

His fingers slide underneath the waistband of your underwear from where his palms rest wide on your upper thighs, his mouth suckling the plush skin before him. His lips feel like heaven, like finally stepping through your front door after a long shift, like a hot bath after a long day, like a breath of fresh air after being in a stuffy room. It feels like home. Startling slightly at the sudden press of his nose to your clothed core, you feel more than hear the rumble of his chuckle.

“This okay, not too much?”

“Not too much,” you assure, lifting your hips to allow him to drag the fabric down. Heat blooms in your chest, worry for not being as pretty as someone else or as groomed as you used to be. But all of your anxieties and insecurities fade away as you look down and see the way his eyes are trained on your glistening cunt. He groans out as he drags the beck of a knuckle over your puffy outer lips, reveling in the jerk of your hips at the light contact.

“’s pretty, sweetheart. So perfect.” Is all the warning he gives you before he’s spreading you open with both of his hands and burying his face between your thighs. A long, warm wet lick with the flat of his tongue from one end of you to the other has your head thudding against the pillows and your hands searching for purchase in his hair. Pleasure sparkles all over your body, glitters behind your eyes as he tastes you, suckles that little bundle of nerves, as he gently glides two of his thick, warm fingers right inside and curves them up.

His name is a strangled sound puffed into the air, your breath hitching in the way he admitted to loving so much as he begins to pet your inside walls with his fingertips, his lips latched around your clit. His patchy scruff and mustache adding to the feel of him against your skin, against the most intimate part of you he’s taking his time in pleasuring. It takes everything you have to lift your head enough to peer through bleary eyes to find him already staring up at you. His pupils blown so wide there’s no hint of the deep brown they’re made up of. His brow is furrowed in concentration, the tops of his cheeks barely visible a deep hue of pink as he worships you.

While still holding your gaze, he purses his lips and sucks, turning the sparkles of pleasure into hot waves as they overtake you. Your body isn’t your own any longer as it tenses, back arching clean off bed, your thighs clenching around his ears. Your lost in the force of the pleasure he pulled from you as easily as breathing, taken every moan and sigh as signals to what you liked best, listening to your body like he was meant to. It’s no longer yours but his.

“They’re we go, so good, sweetheart. You taste so good,” He murmurs as he helps your through the crest before pulling again to palm at himself through his underwear with one hand, the other holding your bucking hips down to clean every last bit of your release from where his fingers are pulled from you.

Reaching for him, you tug at him, urging him up to his knees so you had run your palm over the trail of dark hair that disappears below his waistband. He moves his hand from where he’s holding himself through the fabric as your fingers sneak below and touch him for the first time. His hips cant, pressing firmly into your willing hand.

“Take these off, please.” You whisper as you wrap your hand around him, barely able to touch the tips of your fingers with the girth of him fully hard. He’s hot against your skin, velvet soft over the rigidness of his cock. Finally seeing all of him as he pulls the fabric down and pushes it past his thighs. You let him go for him to toss them over the side of the bed, eyes taking in the stretch of his body through the action.

He’s peppered with freckles over his tan skin, chest covered in thick hair that’s the same steel grey of his curls, thick thighs tensed with the way he sits before you on his knees. He’s littered with scars, some thin and crisscrossing over each other, some raised thick to disrupt the smoothness of his skin, though none hold the same untold story of the one at his temple. The one he lets you brush softly before sleep. But they don’t take away from his beauty, they enhance it and let you know without a doubt he’s a fighter.

His cock is thick and long, ruddy at the tip and bobbing despite the heft to kiss his stomach as you eye him up and down. Every inch of him is beautiful and you tell him with a sigh, body singing for him to come back to you. Locking eyes with him, you see his own insecurities wash away at the wonder and admiration you gaze at him with.

As soon as you move to reach for him, he’s doing the same. Mouths connecting and laying his body over yours to feel every bit of your skin against his that he can manage, your legs parting to wrap around his waist. You gasp at the bump of his tip to your folds, the breathy sound turning into a moan when he grinds down against you, his hands tangling in your hair as he swallows it straight from your lips.

He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he reaches down to grip himself, guiding the ruddy tip to your entrance and holding his breath for the barest of seconds. You nod, unable to form words so wrapped around him, so covered by him, to consumed by him and what he means to you. Twin moans decorate the air as he pushes in, the girth of him stretching you and causing heat to lick at every single nerve.

It’s soft and slow, sensual the way he moves against you. Taking in the moment for all that it is, showing you in the most intimate way what you mean to him as you feel how deep he gets with every thrust. But when you moan out for him to go harder, to go faster – he willingly obliges. The slow roll of his hips shifting into quick snaps against yours, a hand gripping your thigh over his shoulder as he presses down in such a delicious way. You can tell you startle him when you cry out, the head of his cock catching that perfect spot, as your hands scrabble at his shoulders and your nails dig into the freckles skin of his broad back.

Sighing, you take a moment to stretch out your shoulders once you remove the apron from around your neck. It’s well into February and you’ve take back control of the morning shift at the mess hall.

Marsha had done a…well, she hadn’t done the best, but Maria had stepped in the week before you had been due back. To ensure everything was exactly the way you preferred it. It had been a lot of long early morning shifts on top of staying through the lunch service. You had tried to stifle your amusement at Maria complaining about how fast the woman had tried to get through cleaning tasks to get home before the sun set. None of it had been good enough for Maria, knowing that you dedicated yourself to making sure things were not only clean but ‘Olive clean’ as she termed it. Turning the whole dining room and setting up the kitchen for a smooth open the next morning since dinner was normally left to the individual households or the Tipsy Bison.

Part of her punishment was formally apologizing to you and thanking you for your service to the town, but it hadn’t happened. You weren’t holding your breath for it to happen, either. It wouldn’t undo all the anxiety and hesitancy you still had even now interacting with anyone outside of your very small circle.

“Miss Olive?” The sudden voice of someone peeking their head through the swinging door that led into the kitchen caught you off guard. “Oh shoot, I am so sorry! I didn’t meant startle you.”

“Oh, it’s okay, just lost in my own head. How can I help you?”

They step inside, an older couple that comes at the same time everyday, enjoying the quiet before the rest of the residents make their way into the dining room.

“Just wanted to say it was a good meal this morning. We really appreciate all the work you put in providing for the town. Glad to have you back in the swing of things.”

“Oh! Well, th-thank you very much. I’m glad you enjoyed today, had a couple friends urge me to include the pastries.” They nod at you, waving before turning away and disappearing back through the door. A smile graces your lips as you shrug on your coat and wrap a scarf around your neck. The kind words help you to trudge your way through the built up snow from the night before, none of it having melted once the sun rose. The winds are still sharp, piercing in their added chill to the air.

Your home is nice and toasty when you enter, intending to shower the splash of porridge that had gotten you, sinking into your skin even after you had wiped off. But you pause when you catch the scent of fresh coffee and hear a distant grunting coming from your back room. Instincts taking over, you reach for the bat leaning up against the corner behind the front door.

“Hello?” You call out, unsure of who would be in house since Joel was supposed to be on patrol with Ellie. Maria and Tommy wrapped up in council meetings with Macon dropped off at the school to be watched over.

“Jus’ me! Shit-“ A loud thud cuts off Joel’s words and you’re rushing down the hall to find him crouching on the floor, hands busy holding the framework of a shelving unit where it had tilted over. “Hey, sweetheart, wanted to have this done by the time you got back.”

You had torn out the old shelves of the back room, the wall smoothed and painted over a few days ago when you had tried to reorganize everything and one of them came crashing down. Ellie had been over a week or so ago, indulging in your vinyl collection as she did homework while she stayed the night, Joel on an overnight patrol. Apparently, she had shared with him the scary moment that prompted the change to the wall.

“Are you okay?” The words rush out as you move around him to help push the large structure back onto it’s base. He sighs as he stands, knees cracking from the added weight of the wood against him as he tensed and braced against it. When he did, your eyes rove over him to ensure he really was okay. Then the bump on his forehead catches your attention as he looks over to you. It’s red and slightly swollen.

You see the small scrape on his cheek, blood beading up along the thin lines.

“Damn thing just shifted as I was adjusting the line up. ‘m okay, promise.”

But you close in on him, hands cupping his face as you pull it down to you, brushing your lips lightly against the bump as his hands wrap around your waist. Shifting down, you kiss just below the thin scrapes, not wanting to pull at them or irritate them further before reaching for a kerchief from your back pocket and dabbing lightly at the blood. Pulling back to peer into his eyes, you see the almost shy way he’s looking from you to the shelving unit.

“There,” You press your lips to his next, his eyes fluttering shut at the swipe of your tongue against his plush bottom one. He swallows the sound that bursts from your chest as he pulls you close. He tastes like the coffee you had smelled when you first walked through the front door. Humming out an, “All better.”

His grin is bright, the dimple in his right cheek fluttering your stomach as you catch sight of it hidden in his scruff.

“All better.” He parrots before shifting you both so your back is to the wall he had been working on installing the shelving unit against. “But you ain’t supposed to be home yet. Your present isn’t ready.”

“Present? I didn’t ask for anything, Joel Miller.” You crane your head around to try and look at what he was doing, too concerned with him to see what he had been trying to do exactly. But he brought a hand up from your waist to grip at your chin and he halted the movement. “And aren’t you supposed to be on patrol with Ellie?”

“Traded off with Tommy, told ‘im I had something important to do today.”

“Joel…”

“Nu-uh. You’ll have to wait to see it, birthday girl. Macon is due for pick up in an hour,” You huff a laugh as he bends his knees to lift your weight and toss it over his wide shoulder. Hair falling loose around your face, it’s impossible to see anything as he struts out of the room and across the hall to the bathroom. He sets you down atop the vanity counter with a light of his own at how disheveled your hair got.

“So pretty,” He muses quietly as he brushes it from your face and tucks it behind an ear. Heat creeps up your face, still not used to such open compliments from the handsome man. Stepping away for a moment, he fiddles with the shower knobs to get the water going, ensuring it’s the perfect temperature that you prefer. He helps you to disrobe, trailing his lips over every inch of your upper body as it becomes exposed before ushering you into the stall with a parting kiss. We’ll head over to Tommy’s for an early dinner once I’m finished up here, yeah?”

“Yes, of course.”

Dinner was a small affair, Ellie using one of the recipe cards you had made for Joel to attempt her hand at a casserole and a cake. The noodles were far too mushy and the cheese was a little too crusted, but you wouldn’t trade her bright smile as she set it down with a flourish for anything in the world. The cake was a touch better, the frosting smooth in most places and the perfect amount of sweetness to counteract the rich chocolate she had been adventurous in trying out. Two candles were lit atop it after meal, her smile infectious as you thanked her and reached to squeeze her smaller frame to yours.

“Alright, alright. Now make a wish and blow them out!” She was excited, Macon imitating her as he bounced in your lap.

“Macon, want to help me?” He gurgled his agreement, barely able to hold his head up and only for short bursts of time. But he pursed his lips as you leaned closer to the cake and blew. He made a sputtering sound, bubbles forming at the corners of his lips and everyone laughed as he seemed shocked at the smoke lifting from the now spent candles. You looked over to Joel, catching the soft smile he was sporting as he watched on.

But you were both in your home now, having left at the assurance of dinner being cleaned up and the kitchen tidied. You were standing in the back room, taking in the sight of what he had been working on all day. Floor to ceiling shelves had been installed on the wall that was shared with the kitchen on the other side. The supplies you kept for the harvest from the olive trees aesthetically placed in the cubbies.

“Joel, it’s beautiful. Thank you so much.” You felt the heat of him as he walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your middle. His deep voice was so close as he hooked his chin over your shoulder. He guided you out of the room and across the hall to your bedroom, waddling his frame around yours as he refused to let go.

“What’d you wish for, sweetheart?” He whispered, as if it was a secret he was hoping to be privy to, your breath hitched as you turned in his arms and snaked your hands around his neck.

“Nothin’, just…for everything to keep on the way it has been. I’ve got everything I need.” You leaned up and kissed him, his hands tightened around your waist, and you giggled as he dipped you a little with his enthusiasm. You could feel his own smile as his lips moved against yours and you breathed out one last laugh before pivoting your bodies toward the bed. He let you, so willing underneath your touch.

The next morning you both rise early before the sun, helping each other dress and then walk hand in hand toward the stables, boots crunching over the thin ice that had formed overnight. Just as you lead Lowry through the gates, Joel astride is own horse, he turns to you with a lopsided grin.

Your eyes trail over him, landing on the worn fabric of his back pocket, the spiral top of his notepad tucked securely inside. It turns out the faded patch was your business after all and you smile at him in return as he speaks.

“So what’s your favorite movie?”

You answer him honestly, earning a huff of slight exasperation for your answer. Turning the question on him as the sound of steady hoofbeats and soft conversation flows over the open plains of your morning route.

previous chapter || end

taglist:

@joelsgreys @morning-star-joy @sawymredfox @pascalpvnk @littlemisspascal

@merz-8 @orcasoul @sabmat @dreamingofleon @keylimebeag

@picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @joeloverture

@joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @corazondebeskar

@honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @hiroikegawa @dugiioh

@persephone-girl @furiousmushroom @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc

@part2joelmiller @formulafun @noisynightmarepoetry @sofiparallel

@blueberrylemon7 @maryrhodalouandted @joelsdagger @fluff-lover

@communism-bitches @slugz-writes-shit @mosssbawls @vie-is-punk

@ohhellotherebumblebee @koshkaj-blog @amyispxnk @wand-erer5

dividers by the lovely: @/cafekitsune and /saradika-graphics

391 notes · View notes

lovemyavatar · 2 years

Text

Equilibrium

Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

this one’s for you, @tiredmamaissy ily

Warnings: purely smut, (aged up) nsfw, p in v, oral (female receiving), mating, soft dom Neteyam

Notes: this is set within the same universe as Push and Pull, however it can be read as a standalone

“Where are you taking me, ‘Teyam?”

He guides you forward, long fingers loosely entwined, arm extended at his back as he leisurely steps through the brush. His lips twitch with the ghost of a smile, excitement blooming in his stomach.

A giggle bubbles up your throat, feet stumbling over rocks and upturned roots as you blindly follow him through the forest. Long lashes flutter beneath the soft cloth he’d tied gently around your head, just after a searing look and a quiet you trust me, yawne (beloved)?

He’s spent the last week doting on your every need, to the point of excess. Since learning about how you felt ignored, cast aside by his cold demeanor in front of the clan, he’s made it his mission to lavish you with attention at all times.

Even when your cheeks prickle with heat and you gently bat wandering hands away, he only pulls you closer, planting sweet kisses along your neck and murmuring a quiet be good beside your ear.

It brings warmth to your chest, having him love you so publicly. Truthfully, the clan has been aware of the underlying tension between you for years now. Seeing as his parents promised you to each other at a young age anyway, it only made sense that you’d finally given into your desires.

The back and forth was purely a product of two idiots so stuck in their heads they couldn’t see what was right in front of them.

Neteyam stops abruptly, and you stumble, landing against a strong back. He chuckles softly before turning, hands reaching up to delicately remove your blindfold.

You blink against the low light, vision refocusing. Brilliant, glowing purple surrounds you. Your head swivels from side to side, taking in the long hanging tendrils of one of your favorite places in the forest.

A smile pulls at your lips as you run a hand through the dangling branches of the Tree of Souls. It feels alive, the whispers of ancestors long buried wafting over your skin.

When your eyes trail back to him, breath catches in your throat. His chin is low, eyes molten with desire and something else, something deeper. His heated gaze bores through you, straight to the growing warmth between your legs.

Your thighs press together, a motion that doesn’t go unnoticed. The corner of his lips twitches into a tiny smirk. One of his large hands dwarfs yours as he peels it from your side before bringing it to his lips to plant a lingering kiss along your knuckles.

“Be mine?” He whispers, voice hoarse.

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up your chest, fingers tightening against his. “We’ve been over this, yawnetu (love). I’m all yours.”

“I mean…be mine—here.” He takes a step closer, free hand skimming the small of your back. He pulls you into him, chests pressed together tightly. “Before our ancestors. Before Eywa.”

Your eyes pop wide and you move back, eyes scanning his serene expression. You search for any hesitation, any lingering doubts. When all you see is assurance, your lips part in surprise.

“I thought…” Your heart sputters in your chest, thrumming harshly between your ribs.

Though you’ve wanted this all along, you’ve tried so hard not to push him. To force his hand before he’s truly ready. His current fascination with you has been more than satisfactory, the way he’s made your pleasure a priority enough to make you nearly forget you aren’t really mated.

His hand drops yours to move around his back, searing gaze never leaving you as he grips his queue and brings it over his shoulder.

“I want you—all of you—to be mine.” The raw desire in his eyes makes your core clench with anticipation.

He was lost before, distracted by obligation and expectation. Now that he has you, gets to live the rest of his life with you at his side, he wants it all. No, he needs it all. A need to possess, to dominate, has been growing within him, and it’s nearing the breaking point.

“Okay, just…slow down, Nete.” You’re breathless, partially in disbelief that this is finally happening.

Your hands move up to caress the sides of his face, eyes flicking over his features one last time before capturing his lips with yours. He responds instantly, arms tightening around your middle until not even a fraction of space exists between you.

Your head tilts, tongue prodding his lips until he opens for you, giving you the freedom to explore. A groan rumbles his chest, the gentle vibration warming your lower belly. A gasp tears up your throat as he suddenly smooths his hands down your back, until they hook beneath your thighs and lift your feet off the ground.

Your legs wind around his waist, and he surprises you again by lowering you both to the earth. He gently guides you into his lap as he sits on the soft grass, legs outstretched. A quiet hum passes between frantic kisses as you settle into him, loincloth sliding on your already slick core.

The friction hits your clit just right, so you do it again, hips rocking along his hardened length. He moans beneath you, one hand smoothing down your back while the other trails up toward your neck. Long fingers tangle into the braids at the base of your skull and jerk your head back.

He peppers open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, forcing your face toward the sky with his firm hold. You pant above him, lower belly tightening. Your hands roam his body freely, fingertips tracing the line of his shoulders before skimming down his chest.

He shudders beneath you, hot breath stuttering against your skin. Your light touch doesn’t stop until it hits the straining heat contained within his loincloth. Delicate fingers cup his rock hard length with one hand while the other attempts to undo the string keeping him from you.

Suddenly, he pulls away from your neck, strong grip clasping your wrist. He peels your hand away, instead placing it above his racing heart. His cock twitches in protest, a tortured groan slipping past his lips as he sucks another bruise into your skin. He wants to take care of you first, no matter desperate he is to claim you.

“If we’re gonna do this, I need you to be a good girl and listen, okay?” He peels his lips from your neck to catch your eyes pointedly.

You nod quickly, already willing to do anything he asks. The corner of his lips lifts in a coy smirk. He loves you like this. So compliant, so eager to please. That fiery disobedience he cherishes in your everyday life is long gone, replaced with this version of you, his good girl that he loves to ravage.

There’s something so alluring about watching a strong woman give so much power to him. Giving so much trust to him. It drives him absolutely wild.

One of his hands leaves you to grab his queue, still slung over his shoulder. You simply watch for a moment, mesmerized as he lifts the tip, small tendrils curling in the air. You force down a swallow, throat suddenly feeling hoarse.

With trembling fingers, you reach toward your back and gently bring your queue forward. Your gaze is locked on the way it seems to reach for his. The two of you remain still for several long moments, ragged breaths mingling.

Neteyam hooks a fingertip beneath your chin, gently drawing your face up toward him. His eyes, heavy-lidded with emotion, bore into you. Silently asking for permission.

You grant it without hesitation, presenting your queue with shaky hands. He grips your wrist lightly and guides you forward, finally forming tsaheylu (the bond).

A gasp lodges in your throat at the immediate rush of feeling. It pours into you, sinks deep within your chest. You watch as Neteyam’s pupils dilate until the gold of his eyes is nothing but a thin ring. His lips part, ears flattening against his head from the intensity of it.

You can feel everything.

The way his arms are wrapped tightly around your middle, holding you to him as if afraid you might slip away. The strength of his thighs as they support your weight. The throb of his cock, so hard between his legs.

Your lungs quiver, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. It’s not just the physical, but the mental aspect of the bond that’s so overwhelming.

It devours you. His love, adoration, desire fills every tiny space within your soul, until you feel nothing but him.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He growls, suddenly shoving you to the ground.

You barely have time to gasp in a lungful of air before he’s on you, lips claiming yours fiercely. Your back bows from the earth, whimpers muffled by his brutal kiss. Your core ruts against his, legs still tightly wound around his hips.

He moans lowly, feeling both your pleasure and his as the material of your loincloths create a delicious friction. He forces his mouth away from yours, feeling feverish. The desire to explore every inch of your body with this new perspective propels him downward.

His lips leave a searing trail down your neck, your chest, all the way down your trembling stomach. Until he reaches your dripping core. Long fingers grip the string of your loincloth, easily ripping it in two.

“Nete—oh!” Your scolding is cut short as he wrenches your thighs apart, dipping between them to lick a firm line along the lips of your pussy.

A ragged moan echoes through the trees. Your chest blooms with heat, feeling the way he absolutely loves every second of devouring you.

Two fingers slip into your waiting heat, pussy fluttering against the unexpected intrusion. His tongue swirls a familiar pattern over your clit, knowing exactly how you like it. Your hips jerk up toward his face, and he groans with pleasure.

He can’t help but grind his cock against the soft grass, the need to be inside you almost painful. The ache between his legs transfers through tsaheylu, making you whimper with impatience.

Your hips wiggle beneath him as he picks up the pace. It’s too much and not enough all at once. All of your senses are on overdrive, so much stimulus feeding through your skin and the bond it’s almost enough to knock you out cold.

“Sit still.” He rips his lips away from you to bark the order, molten yellow narrowing into a glare before he resumes his ministrations.

One of his hands presses against your lower belly, holding you firmly to the earth. You mewl, unable to obey even if you wanted to. It’s just too much, muscles tightening with an intense impeding orgasm.

Your legs close instinctively, something within you trying to get away from the overstimulation. Neteyam growls against you, and you cry out, the low rumble flinging you closer to the edge.

He roughly jerks your thighs part, landing a firm slap against the soft skin of your inner thigh. Your hips jump from the pleasurable sting, another broken moan falling from your lips.

Hot moisture fills your eyes, cascading down long lashes as your head is thrown back, every muscle in your body tensing. You shatter around him, pussy clenching his fingers tightly as you come undone.

The orgasm rips through you so fiercely, you slump to the earth when it’s over, completely spent. He groans with pleasure, tongue lapping up every drop of your slick. His fingers remain inside you even as he raises up onto his knees.

In an instant his loincloth is nothing but a ripped pile of fabric, cast aside somewhere near yours.

One hand balls into a fist beside your head, supporting his weight as he pulls his other hand from your sopping pussy. You whine at the sudden emptiness, legs wrapping around his hips to draw him closer.

He chuckles darkly, head dropping to lavish your neck with kisses. “What do you want, baby girl?”

You whimper beneath him, hips jutting toward his. You will him to understand through the bond.

“Use your words, sevin (pretty).” His voice drops with the gentle order, the sound only making your abandoned pussy clench harder. He groans at the feeling.

“Need you, ‘Teyam.” You’re a whiney mess, tears streaming down your face, hips bucking into his wantonly. But you can’t find it within yourself to push past the delirious desire to care.

“Need me to fuck you? Is that it?” He grinds his swollen cock into you. The tip sides along your pussy lips, so close yet so far from where you want it.

You’re impatient, his teasing driving you wild. Your ankles lock around his hips and you try twisting out from under him to take matters into your own hands. He growls a low warning, long fingers clamping around your throat. He shoves you back into the earth, practically snarling down at you, eyes alight with feral need.

“Don’t test me, muntxa (mate).” He swallows your desperate moans with a searing kiss, before roughly pulling back.

“Need more, ‘Teyam.” You gasp, breathless.

“Tell me what you want, baby girl.” He drags his tip along your sex again, knowing the answer but wanting to hear you say it.

“Need you to fuck me, ‘Tayem! Please!” You’re blubbering beneath him, all rational thought overcome by the emptiness deep in your womb.

“Okay, baby, you’re okay.” He coos gently, kissing away the tears as they stream down your cheeks.

He grips the base of his cock, gently entering you for the first time as a mated pair. Your cries echo overhead, trembling lungs unable to contain your noises of pure bliss.

Neteyam shudders above you, the wet heat of your pussy gripping him so tightly he fears he might cum already. He bottoms out with a torturously slow thrust, forehead pressing to yours for support. His chest heaves, heart thundering between his ribs.

“Move, ‘Teyam!” You beg, and he obeys.

His hips snap into yours fiercely, rocking your body against the grass with each hard slam of his cock. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the combined feeling of his body and yours too much.

You’re breathless, nothing but a whimpering mess as he pounds into you with a steady pace. Your back bows, bringing your belly flush with his. For a moment you’re impressed, knowing you wouldn’t be able to function enough through the intensity of the bond to keep the momentum he’s chosen.

You clench around him, and he moans, long and low in his chest.

“Shit, Y/N, gonna cum again for me?” His eyes blaze with passion, boring into you from above.

A broken whimper is all you can muster. You’ve never orgasmed more than once in a session, despite Neteyam’s best efforts. It’s been a goal he’s desperately tried to reach in recent weeks, and now it seemed to be a reality.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me. Cum on your mate’s cock.” He grunts against your neck, sharp fangs dragging along your skin.

The slight sting catapults you into your orgasm, white hot pleasure ripping through you. Your scream is barely muffled by his victorious groan of pleasure. The walls of your pussy flutter around him, sending him over the edge along with you. He fills your womb with his release, teeth sinking gently into your skin.

The two of you are still for several long moments, chests heaving, basking in the afterglow of sensation through the bond. Once your walls stop clenching around his length, he slowly pulls out. His teeth release you, tongue soothing the small dots of blood left behind.

He falls to the earth beside you, instantly wrapping strong arms around your waist. He pulls you in, cradling you against his chest. You’re limp in his hold, spent from his thorough fucking. He plants a light kiss along your temple, resting his head above yours on the grass.

“I see you, Y/N.” His voice is a hoarse whisper, thick with emotion.

“I see you, Neteyam.” You nestle impossibly closer to his heart, ear pressed against his skin to feel the steady thrum.

The two of you quickly fall into a peaceful sleep, queues still connected, nothing but warmth and love passing through the bond.

#neteyam sully #neteyam smut #neteyam sully smut #neteyam fic #neteyam imagine #neteyam sully imagine #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully fic #neteyam x y/n #neteyam sully x you

2K notes · View notes

inlovewithpandora · 7 months

Text

ᥫ᭡ — Reflection

Artists — Young!Jake x fem!Omatikaya!reader

Kinktober Prompt — Day 18・Mirrior Sex

Genre — Oneshot

Lyrics — Jake wanted to try something different so one day he brought you to the lab and introduced you to what a mirror was and how it can be used.

Music Advisory — avatar 2009 based, light fluff, smut, porn w/ [small] plot, p in v, [slight] queue pulling, spanking [twice], daddy kink [once], light choking, [ You are responsible for your own consumption! 17+ ]

Index — karyu - teacher・tewng - loincloth

Duration — 1.3k words

Words from Artist — This is my first kinktober prompt to be posted so I hope you all enjoy! As always feel free to send in requests and comment/reblog what you think about the fic!

Current Platforms — kinktober m.list・main m.list ・avatar taglist

When Jake came to live among your clan, both of you instantly gravitated toward each other. Mo’at assigned you to be his karyu so you could show him the ways of the Omatikaya and you were more than happy to do it. The more you taught him your native tongue or helped him master the ability to hunt by placing your hand on his abdomen to remind him to breathe as he learned how to use a bow, the more you were brought closer to each other.

Maybe too close though given you ended up dating.

You and Jake either spent your time frolicking around the forest, riding your ikrans under the moonlight, or in your marui. One time however, Jake wanted to spice things up and try something different, so he brought you to the lab. As you walked around, looking at all the human technology, you were amazed by the fact that they created all of these different things. When he finished giving you a tour of the lab, he took you to his room.

Your eyes roamed the foreign space until they landed on something you’ve never seen before. “Jake, what is that?” You asked as you inspected it with a puzzled look.

“It’s a mirror.” He simply answered as he grabbed your hand and placed you in front of it while towering behind you with his hands resting on your hips, as he watched your childlike curiosity wander.

“Does it do anything like the other human things?” You pressed your finger against the glass, trying to see if any words or images will pop up like when Jake was showing you how computers work.

Watching you continually tap the mirror made a chuckle emerge from his lips. “No, it simply shows you your reflection.” You stopped what you were doing and took a moment to fully look at yourself in the mirror. You’ve never been able to see a clear representation of your reflection since the Na’vi didn’t have anything like this, so seeing your body this way was different.

As your eyes wandered your body in awe at the fact that you could see yourself so clearly, Jake’s hands began to roam your body. His arm wrapped around your waist, pressing you against his body while his other hand toyed with the strings of your tewng.

“You’re so beautiful, baby, you know that?” He murmured softly, nuzzling his face into your neck and placing soft kisses along your skin. As you melted under his touch, loving the way he was showering you with affection, you could feel his lips press against the rim of your ear. “I wanna try somethin’ new, you cool with that?” He questioned in a husky tone, sending chills down your spine.

The way his voice hit your ears and his hands finding solace on every one of your erogenous zones made a heat pool between your thighs. At first, you didn’t know what he had in mind but when you felt his hard bulge against the swell of your ass followed by a low groan, you understood exactly what he was implying. You nodded your head in response, making a tsk sound fall from Jake’s lips as he shook his head. “I need words, it’s the only way I can give you what you want.”

“Yes, I want to try something new.” You answered in a soft and gentle manner. By the time you finished your sentence, Jake’s tewng was at his feet and he was working on getting yours discarded. He hurriedly pulled the strings to your bra top and tewng and a few moments later, both articles of clothing were crashing down onto the floor.

“Bend over f’me.” His hand glided across your back, guiding you forward, making you become face to face with your reflection. In the mirror, you could see a small smirk on Jake’s face as he lined up his cock with your entrance. He spat on his shaft before slowly sliding in, mumbling curse words at how wet and tight you were. “Drippin’ already and we just gettin’ started.” He flushed against you, going at a slow and steady pace so you could adjust to his size and once you gave him the green light, he began rutting into you, snaking his arm around your neck from behind. He had a secure yet comfortable hold on your neck, angling your head so you could look at how good he fucked you through the mirror.

When you felt him bottom out, his tip continuously pressing against your g-spot, feeling his strong thighs slamming against your ass, a series of moans passed through your lips. “Mmm, Ja-Jake!” His powerful thrusts were making your brain fuzzy, the only thoughts you could process were how good Jake was making you feel, how he was filling you up to the brim, making sure you took every single inch of him.

“Yeah, that’s it doll, let everyone hear how I’m tearin’ this pussy up.” He unwrapped his arm from your neck and placed both hands on your shoulders, increasing to a relentless speed, pounding into you with long, deep strokes, making your body shudder as your skin slapped together rhythmically.

“W-wait, M’Jake, sl-slow down.” The pressure from him hitting your cervix at the perfect angle was making your body quiver, the pleasure surged through your body and it was hard for you to keep up your strength.

Jake could feel you fluttering around his cock, a common tell that you were about to come. His gaze moved to your face, noticing how your head hanging down, making him plant a hard slap on your ass. “Nuh uh, I need you to look at how pretty you are as you take this dick.” He took your queue and wrapped his hand around it, pulling it just enough so you can lift your head.

Feeling the sting from his hand and the tug on your queue made a whimper emerge from your mouth as you focus on the reflection in front of you like Jake wants you to. The way your breasts were moving at their own pace, how Jake’s face contorted from pleasure each time your walls spasmed around him, and how Jake’s fingers sometimes lightly brushed the tendrils of your queue resulted in your orgasm hitting you full force.

Your gummy walls gripped him tightly as you felt the coil in your stomach snap. Sweet cries flied out of your mouth as your release coated his cock and stomach while your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and you shouted out curse words in your native tongue as your body trembled under his touch.

“Yeah, that’s it baby, cream on daddy’s dick.” He sent another slap to your ass, still keeping his steady pace, groaning at how your cunt was eating his cock up.

It wasn’t long before you felt his cock twitching inside you, painting your walls with his warm seed and not pulling out until he was certain every drop of his semen had reached your womb. He gave you one last stroke before he pulled out, already missing your warmth surrounding him. He admired the fucked out look plastered on your face, loving how well you did, especially with something you’ve never done before.

“You were so good for me, sweetheart. You took me s’well.” He gently praised as he stood and picked you up bridal style, placing a kiss on your temple. “Let's get cleaned up and then we’ll go back into the forest. How does that sound?” You laid your head onto his chest and couldn’t help but purr, loving the way you just melted into his embrace. “Sounds perfect.”

Previous Song

Editor — @justmemyselfandthemoon

Fanbase — @neteyamsoare @dreamingofpandora @iluvpandorawomen @kasai-https @neteyamyawne @hc-geralt-23 @yetanotherattemptatanaccount @myh3artttt @savagemickey03 @persefolli @number1gal @headsincloud9 @buble787635 @normspellmann @em-x0 @sliqeramx @lexasaurs634 @deadgirlrin @lina @merlinbtch @btsiguess-kpop @sussybaka10 @galactict3a @shima @laylasbunbunny @thepotatoislost @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @pandoraslxna @rae @bigdikzaddy

202 notes · View notes

error404vnotfound · 1 year

Text

en fi

la vida dels catalans és un acte d'afirmació continuada: és el sí, no el si. [...] a Calaunya el mòbil primari és la voluntat d'ésser

#v reads història de catalunya modèstia a part #maybe the history was the queue we posted along the way #what else is there left to say

1 note · View note

blue-slxt · 11 months

Text

Kinktober 23

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

Kinktober Masterlist

A/N: Another continuation! This one is sort of a part 2 for my Toxic request that I did. Toxic ex-boyfriend Neteyam lights a fire in me. He's such an ass, but I love it lol. Plus, it's a lot of fun to write. I hope you guys like it. All characters are aged up.

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Metkayina!Reader

Warnings: P in V, Jealous Reader, Low Key Toxic Neteyam, Low Key Toxic-Loving Reader, Biting, Creampie

There was no one that you had loved like Neteyam. But in that same vain, there was no one who knew how to get under your skin like Neteyam. Ever since the night of the party when he left you high and dry in the forest, it was like he was hell bent on driving you crazy. He got this twisted sense of satisfaction keeping your attention on him even though he had dumped you. Despite dropping you, he still wanted you to only belong to him. And you had a terrible habit of playing right into what he wanted.

You feel out of your mind these days. The way your face still gets frustratingly hot when you look at him and how the tip of your tail flicks, against your will, from side to side when he watches you. The logical part of your mind is scolding you for being still interested in him in any way. But you’d be lying if you said that the other part of you didn’t enjoy the power he still held over you. Maybe you were just as sick as him, after all.

Things finally came to a head when Neteyam made sure to make a big display of himself flirting with another girl in front of you. He’d lean in close to her and whisper something in her ear to make her giggle sweetly at him and she’d run her fingers along his muscles where they’d linger for a little longer than was really necessary. It made you sick to your stomach. Your chest felt hot with anger and…jealousy. Which was ridiculous. He’s your ex and he has the right to do whatever he wants with whomever. But when you see his fingers ghost over her face and start to trace her lower lip, logic gets immediately evicted from your mind.

All you see is red coming up behind Neteyam and it feels like your body moves on its own when you grab the base of his queue and tug hard on it pulling him away from his “conversation”.

“Ah! What the f—”

“Who’s your friend, love?” you ask dripping venom in your words.

Neteyam’s annoyance is quickly replaced by amusement at your actions while the girl looks at you in shock.

“Just a friend that I was—”

You cut him off again, “So nice to meet you! You won’t mind if I steal him away for a while, right? Great.” You fake smile at her as you drag Neteyam away through the trees.

Once you’re far away enough that you’re sure no one else can see or hear you, you release your hold on him. “What the hell is your problem?” you snap at him.

“My problem? I was moving on and talking to someone else. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” He has the most annoying, smug grin on his face knowing that he was purposefully pushing your buttons and you were dancing right in the palm of his hand.

“Don’t bullshit me, Neteyam. You know what I’m talking about. You just had that girl all over you when you know—”

“Know what?” he tilts his head teasingly at you.

Your mouth clamps shut in embarrassment and you let out a groan of frustration.

He steps closer to you and uses a finger under your chin to tilt your face up to his.

“If there’s something you want, sweetheart, I’ll let you have it.”

Fuck, you hate the way that the low tone of his voice makes you clench around nothing.

‘Fuck it.’ You think before practically throwing yourself into him and smashing your lips onto his. Instantly Neteyam’s hands are on every inch of your exposed skin. The kiss is feverish and messy, but full of so much want. He easily lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist walking over to a tree and pinning you against it.

He finally releases your mouth so that he can kiss and lick on your neck while he tried to undo the bothersome tie on your tewng.

“You’re—ah!...You’re still an asshole…” you pant out.

“Mhm” he hums still amused by your petulance.

“And I-I hate you…mmf!” it’s mortifying how it comes out in a whine.

“Yes, yes, I know.” He continues his mission of littering you in kisses and licks. Finally, he manages to get both of your tewngs undone and let them fall to the ground. He holds your hips in place for him to position himself just right so that he can slide you down onto him.

Neteyam wastes no time thrusting up into you and using his hands on your hips to move you in perfect time with his.

“Ahn…f-fuck! Neteyam! Haah…”

“Aw, what’s the matter, baby? Nothing to say now that you’re filled with my cock?” there’s that smug look again. He knows that your English isn’t great, but you loved the sound of him speaking it with his thick accent decorating the foreign words.

You feel yourself getting lightheaded from how you’re panting and your eyes are starting to cross getting lost in the sensation of his thick tip grinding against the spongey part of your walls.

And even though he’s completely buried himself inside of you right now, your mind is still sending you flashes of that other girl talking to him, smiling at him, touching him…touching what’s yours. It sends you into a spiral where a bone-deep urge scratches at the inside of your skull to reclaim what belongs to you.

There’s not a solid, coherent thought behind your actions. It’s purely instinct-driven when you sink your teeth into Neteyam’s neck. And when you bite him, you bite hard. Enough to draw small dribbles of blood from where your fangs had punctured his skin. He sucks in a sharp breath and lets it go in a stuttering sigh.

“Ah! That’s right, baby. Take it.” He says speeding up.

You still have no real idea what he’s saying, but Eywa, if he didn’t make it sound so sexy.

‘More. More. More!’ your body chants to you. It’s not enough. One bite won’t do it. You need to mark him more. Make sure that it’s obvious to everyone that he already belongs to someone. To imbed your scent into his skin so that all other females will steer clear.

You lick the small holes just enough to stop the bleeding and immediately find a new spot to mutilate. And another. And another, still. At this point, he’s starting to look like a chew toy, but neither of you could care less. You don’t stop until you’re satisfied.

When your head finally falls back against the tree, you’re trying your best to still the unsteady spinning in your mind.

“Look at me.” Neteyam growls out grabbing your face and making you look him in the eye.

“You love me, baby?” he asks in that unknown tongue again as he ruts into your clenching walls.

You nod your head with a whimper. You couldn’t care less whatever he’s asking you right now. He could be saying absolute nonsense in your ear right now, but as long as he kept fucking you like this, you would say yes to anything.

“You still mine?”

“Yes! Yes! Neteyam! Oh, Great Mother, I’m going to cum!”

“Go ahead, give it to me. Cum on my dick while I fill you up.” His thrusts become long and deep and your legs tremble in his hold. Your back arches off of the tree while your eyes roll and your toes curl when your release hits you full force.

The constant flutter of your walls hugging his cock like this make him finally spill and paint your insides white.

“Ahhh…Haah….haah…”

Neteyam holds you both still for a minute while you both catch your breaths.

“Vonvä'” you mutter to him. He just cracks a smile and kisses your cheek.

“Whatever you say, yawne.”

Kinktober Taglist: @pandoraslxna @ashlatano7567 @sincerelykaib @jamies-wh0re @quaritchsluts @jakescumdump @delacruzyari @onlyloaksgf @skywonder @taintedlovesworld @myloveforyouisforever @angie-1306 @moodays @childofgod-05 @hadesbabygurl @daddysmurfslefttoenail @loaksulluyswife @y4sm1nsstuff @thewhiltedpeony @lovefrommeelise @neteyamssyulang @rosyjn @imintoomanyfandomscuzihaveadhd @anaclaudiasugar @xxwelshqueenxx @hania11 @xylianasblog @idkanymoregirl @eyrina-avatar @biscuitsaredelish @quinn-sadilla @the_mourning_moon @eyweveng @puddleswimmingnerd-blog @xaxsir @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @navilover24 @sulieykte @iameatingmyhair @leaveitbythewave @ntymavtr @fifilynn16 @kiri-tuk @mstocky78 @neteyamyawne @randumfanfics @sliqeramx @bluewonder @the-morning-moon @nerdfacesposts @vip-btxch @neteyamsyawntu @teyamsatan @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @dixonjunkie @neteyamswillow

(If your tag isn't working, please check your settings.)

#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar fic #awow #neteyam x na'vi!reader #atwow #atwow neteyam #avatar twow #avatar neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #avatar smut #neteyam smut #lunaskinktober2023

188 notes · View notes

maverickbabes · 1 year

Text

Nite full of Bliss

Nite full of bliss

Aged!up!Neteyam Sully x female!navi!Metkayina!reader!

Neteyam is 25 and Reader is 23

Warnings: romantic sex on the beach, semi public sex??, petnames (babygirl, pretty girl, ma girl), slow and passionate sex, mating/tsaheylu, biting, cussing, p in v, angry Neteyam, bullying, some body shaming, disrespectful comments, a small fight scene, mentions of blood, cute and fluff ending.

Summary: While having a romantic sex on the beach hidden from everyone, Ao'nung and his friends stumble upon them. They start teasing Neteyam and making fun and disrespecting y/n, which pisses off Neteyam. He goes after them and eventually they run away from him so he goes back to his mate and cuddles her on the beach.

"Fuck pretty girl, you feel so good" Neteyam moans against y/n's neck as he continues to rock his hips, slowly thrusting his cock in and out of her soaked core. "Teyam" Y/n whimpers as she arches her back off the sand and tilts her head back in pleasure. Instinctively, he wraps his tail around her waist holding her close to him while she wraps her legs around his hips.

Neteyam lifts his head from her neck and watches how she digs her fangs into her bottom lip, drawing some blood while her eyes roll back in passion. He glances down at their linked queues, closing his eyes as he feels her pleasure mixed with his. The waves crashed rhythmically on the shore while the stars twinkled and the moon shone down on their semi sweaty bodies.

"Just like that Neteyam fuck" Y/n moans as her arms give out from under her, causing her to fall onto the sand. Neteyam's hips stutter as he feels y/n squeeze around his length and he feels a whole new wave of pleasure and sensation hits him. "Do that again pretty girl" He praises as he leans down and begins nipping and sucking all along her collarbone and breast.

Ao'nung hears faint moans and whimpers coming from one of the many beaches they had all around so he turns to his friends, motioning for them to follow him. He walks along the trail listening and following where the noises were coming from with his friends close behind him.

He reaches the top of the small hill and sees Neteyam on top of y/n, fucking her on the beach. "Are they hav-" One of his minions starts to say but Ao'nung puts his hand over their mouth immediately shushing him. Once he was sure that his friend would keep quiet, He turned his head back to the couple on the beach and leans up against one of the trees.

"Having fun there you two?" Ao'nung asks smirking as he watches the two jump from the sudden surprise. Neteyam turns his head to see Ao'nung and his friends standing there, staring while they point and laugh at them. He immediately covers y/n's body with his, shielding her from their stares.

"No need to cover her Neteyam, there's not much to look at anyways" Ao'nung remarks as one of his friends gives him a high five as the others laugh and snicker. "Ao'nung that's not cool man." Roxto says as he places his hand on his cousin's shoulder and looks at him in disgust.

Neteyam looks down at his mate under him to see her covering her face as tears silently fall from her face. He can feel his anger bubble and boil inside him as he shields her trembling form from the looks from Ao'nung and his minions.

"I bet her pussy is loose too. Hey Neteyam maybe you should find someone more in your league instead of.. well this" One of the other minions says as they point and motion his hand towards y/n and that was the last straw. Something snapped inside of Neteyam as he kisses y/n gently on her temple then pulls out of her, making sure to cover her intimate parts from their gaze.

He adjusts his loincloth then glares at them, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "You're gonna regret that. All of you." He growls as he lets out an angry and loud hiss, charging after them with Roxto by his side. They all stand there shocked before they snap out of it and make a run for it. He's quick to grab Ao'nung, throwing him onto the sand.

"Argh" Ao'nung growls as he gets up to his feet and charges towards Neteyam. Neteyam grabs his shoulders and knees him in the chest before shoving him away, chest heaving up and down with pure anger. "You leave my mate alone. You respect her. If I hear that you're talking about her like tonight, I won't be as nice. Understand?" Neteyam says as he glares at Ao'nung.

Ao'nung nods his head quickly before running to his friends who were standing there in pure shock. "Go GO" Ao'nung says motioning his hands forward as he looks back at Neteyam for a quick second before running once more. "You okay?" Roxto asks, gently playing his hand on his shoulder and Neteyam looks at him giving him a small smile.

"Yea I'm fine, Just make sure Tonowari has a talk with his son about being disrespectful to other people's mates" Neteyam says as he watches Roxto nod his head before leaving to go have a talk with their clan leader. Neteyam rolls his eyes as he wipes the blood off his bottom lip, spitting the excess onto the sand then turns around to see his mate standing there.

"Y/n" Neteyam whispers as he rushes towards his mate and wraps his arms around her, holding her close to him. "Do you think I'm a slut? Am I out of your league? Am I not as attractive as the other females? Do you-" Y/n rambles, her lips trembling as tears streaked down her face. Neteyam kisses the top of her head multiple times before pulling away and grabbing her face in his hands.

His dark blue hands contrasted against her greenish teal skin as he looks in her bright blue eyes. "Babygirl you are perfect for me. You are perfect to me. You make me fall in love with you every single day and I thank my lucky stars that you let me be your mate and care for you. You are not out of my league, if anything I'm out of yours.

And I don't think you're a slut, to me you are a princess - you are my princess and I love you so much." Neteyam explains and this makes y/n hide her face in his chest, breaking down and sobbing against his chest. "Shh it's okay pretty girl I got you. They won't hurt you or say mean things anymore" He whispers reassuringly as he hold her close to him.

Once y/n was calm and her sobs turned into small hiccups, she removed her head from his chest and looked up at him, eyes glossy from tears. "You are so beautiful ma girl" Neteyam coos as he places a hand on her face, stroking his thumb across her cheek as he wiped away her tears.

"I'm ugly" Y/n mumbles as she looks down at the ground but Neteyam places a finger under her chin, making her look up at him. "You are not ugly. You are so beautiful and I'll always remember how beautiful you are, even when you have our kids you'll still be beautiful in my eyes" He reassures as he brushes some of her curly hair out of her face, making her blush.

Feeling a sudden boost of confidence, Y/n grabs his hand and pulls him along with her, making her way back to where they were on the beach. She grabs his shoulders and pushes him on the sand, straddling his hips as he sits there surprised yet turned on. "Babe" He whispers as he feels her hand trail up and down his arms then his chest.

"What's wrong 'teyam? feeling excited?" She purrs as she grazes her fingertips along his loincloth, making him twitch with excitement. "I need you" Neteyam moans as he flips them over and hovers above her.

"So gorgeous. Ma gorgeous girl" Neteyam coos as he leans down and kisses her neck.

404 notes · View notes

thevalicemultiverse · 2 years

Note

“You’re going to become a cat lady living all alone in a book-filled apartment” is such a weird insult, like when a witch tries to curse you and accidentally gives you the life of your dreams. Oh nooo not the cats and the books, how will I ever manage?

Alice: Exactly how I -- well, how I felt before meeting Victor. But yes, I was perfectly happy with that view of the spinster lifestyle. I still am, honestly -- I just want Victor there among all the cats and the books.

Victor: And my Required Dog.

Alice: And your Required Dog, yes.

#~M: I want some questions! now! (ask)#~M: grin without a cat (anon)#~V: Forgotten Vows #~T: Expert’s Houndsditch #gonna become a cat lady #~C: Victor Van Dort #~C: Alice Liddell #((because Victor is a dog person and thus needs his Preferred Kind Of Pet #also I'm pretty sure I had Alice express something along the lines of this sentiment in the Forgotten Vows Verse #like how she didn't care about becoming a cat lady because she liked cats XD #but yes she still likes that idea #just give her Victor as well now))#~M: with this hand I will lift your queue

1 note · View note

ihavemanyhusbands · 2 years

Text

I Need You (18+)

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

You've been casually hooking up with Aaron for a while, but even if you want something more, things aren't always so simple.

WC: 2.7k words

Warnings - SMUT!! MINORS DNI (18+), HEAVY on the angst lol, cursing, p in v, oral (f receiving), casual-ish sex, unprotected (don't be silly wrap ur willy and whatnot pls), not sure what else so lmk if I missed anything!

A/N: Omg ive been so burnt out from work I'm so sorry i promise im still writing my queue of reqs but for the sake of my sanity I needed to write this lmao I had this idea suddenly and I just LOVE ANGST!!! So I had to! Considering writing a part 2 to give them a happy ending lol in the meantime, hope you like!

It was the perfect night to stay inside. It was raining so hard that it threatened to become a deluge, thunder rumbling in the distance and only getting closer. You had brought out a couple of blankets to the living room to snuggle under, a cheesy old horror movie waiting for you on the TV.

You dumped popcorn into a big bowl and poured yourself some more wine, humming along to a song that was stuck in your head.

Because you weren’t expecting anyone at all, you were in full-on slob mode. Your pajamas consisted of an oversized t-shirt with a picture of Garfield and Odie on the front, along with yellow underwear that had “Tuesday” stitched on them – even if it was actually Friday.

Your hair was braided into two pigtails, still damp from the shower. You always loved how it looked all wavy right after undoing them in the morning, like you’d just been at the beach.

Outside, there was a quick, bright flash of lightning, and you really hoped the lights wouldn’t go out. From the kitchen, you almost didn’t hear the knocking on your front door. You’d been counting the seconds between that flash and the inevitable growl of the skies – One, two, three, four, five…

But then you registered the desperate, staccato rhythm of fists pounding on wood. You rushed towards the door, peering through the peephole before throwing the door open.

Standing on the threshold, drenched from head to toe, was the handsome Aaron Hotchner. It was at that same moment that thunder decided to rumble, but you’d long since stopped counting. The two of you momentarily stared at each other, almost as if in disbelief.

Aaron had been your neighbor for some time now, living just at the end of the block. Still, despite the proximity, you didn’t see him very often, so your heart began racing at this turn of events.

His gaze roamed over you, taking you in, but you didn’t feel self-conscious. He always made you feel confident and sexy, no matter what you were wearing… or not wearing. He flexed his fingers anxiously, like he wanted to reach out but was holding himself back.

“May I come in?” he asked, breaking the spell you were both under.

You nodded quickly, stepping aside to let him in. He took his shoes off as you helped him remove his blazer, hanging it up by the door. You dashed toward your bathroom to retrieve a towel and handed it to him.

“Thanks,” he murmured, toweling off his hair first. It was the most disheveled you’d ever seen it, and you’d ran your hands through it plenty of times in the past. It was a charming sight, really.

“Did you just get back?” You asked.

He nodded, draping the towel on his shoulders. You could see the bags under his eyes and the tense set of his shoulders, which you immediately wanted to help ease.

Some time ago, he’d confided with you that he was a profiler for the FBI. He often traveled to aid in all sorts of cases, sometimes having to be away for extended periods of time, but he’d never disclosed any details about any of them.

It was the reason you rarely saw him, but you didn’t really have the right to complain, since you two weren’t actually together. Instead, you took what you could get.

“Come sit, you must be exhausted,” you said, starting to lead him to the living room.

“I am,” he sighed heavily, reaching out to grab your hand to stop you. “But I just… needed to see you.”

Drawing you closer, he snaked his arms around your waist, and you rested your hands against his chest. You wiped a strand of dark hair away from his forehead, looking into his bewitching dark brown eyes. A soft smile tugged at your lips.

You remembered well the day you met him, out on the run around the neighborhood. The two of you had looked at each other and just kind of… stopped, unable to help it. It was as if the connection had been immediate.

The two of you spent the rest of that day walking around and talking, quickly finding out you lived on the same street. As time passed, one thing led to another, and soon you found yourself under him, your moans a melody in his ears.

But even if you had a burning desire for more, things were kept purely physical between the two of you. He’d explained his job was very demanding, and he wasn’t able to keep a serious relationship at the moment.

Once, he’d even told you that being with him would be risky for a myriad of reasons. And yet, he admitted he didn’t think he could keep himself totally away from you.

You said you didn’t mind, wanting to keep seeing him too, betraying your heart in the process. You found that each time you saw him, you fell just a little bit more for him. It was hard not to.

Not that you would tell him this, of course. It felt a little… selfish to feel that way. So just being around him was enough for the time being.

“Welcome home, I’m really glad you’re here,” you whispered, fingers trailing over his shoulders. “Why don’t we get you out of these wet clothes and warm you up? I can take care of you.”

His gaze became heated, and without another word, he bent down to kiss you. His hands cradled your face as you opened your mouth, granting his tongue access.

You began undoing the buttons of his shirt, fumbling a little as your tongue tangled with his. You did not stop kissing him even as you slid it off of him, along with his undershirt. You pressed yourself against him, his cool skin a nice contrast against all the warmth you emanated. His hands traveled south, towards the hem of your shirt.

You only separated for a moment as he pulled it over your head, but then he was on you again, kissing not just your lips, but your jaw and neck as well. You sighed contentedly, eyes fluttering closed as you surrendered to pleasure.

“I needed you so bad,” he rasped against your throat. “I missed your smell, your softness.”

You melted at his words. It had not been easy to get Aaron to speak so freely. It definitely took a lot of patience and understanding, as well as a lot of honesty of your own. That feeling of mutual trust was not one you took lightly.

“I’m here,” you assured him, tangling your fingers in his hair as his lips trailed further down, leaving open mouthed kisses in their wake.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. Your back arched as his hand tweaked your other nipple, at the same time that his teeth lightly grazed the sensitive skin. He smirked at your sharp intake of breath.

Then suddenly, you yelped as he pulled back only to pick you up, carrying you to your bedroom. He gently laid you down on the bed, undoing his belt and kicking his pants off before crawling over you. His mouth was back on you, licking and sucking and kissing all the places he knew would make you squirm.

“Oh, Aaron…” you sighed. “Did I mention I missed you too?”

“I know, baby, I know,” he said, planting a salacious kiss on your navel. “I’m gonna make you feel so good to make up for it.”

You couldn’t help but shiver in anticipation.

He chuckled at your choice of underwear, eyes gleaming with fondness as he looked up at you. You gave him a sheepish smile as he pulled them down, kissing your thighs as he pushed them apart. Your hips jerked as he dove forward, licking a long, languid stripe through your folds. He groaned against your skin at the taste of you, inserting his tongue into your center.

You fisted the sheets as you rocked your hips, seeking more friction. He brought a hand up to keep you steady, thumb brushing over your sensitive clit. The way you whimpered and moaned for him was glorious. He knew the sound would be stuck in his head for days to come. His mouth replaced his thumb on your clit, and he insterted one finger into you as he sucked your bundle of nerves between his lips.

“Holy fuck,” you hissed, fingers tangling in his hair. “Don’t stop, please…”

Your wish was his command, so he only doubled his efforts, inserting a second finger into you. Your muscles tensed, and you were unable to utter any more coherent words. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you kept his head in place, that tight coil that had formed in your stomach finally snapping. He felt you clench hard around his fingers as you came, pride swelling in his chest.

When he rose to his knees, the lower half of his face glistened with your arousal, and he was smiling with utter satisfaction. If there was one thing he truly enjoyed – and was really good at – it was giving you as many orgasms as he could. He loved seeing the heavy rise and fall of your chest, along with the blush that spread over your cheeks and nose. The beatific smile that inevitably followed, always directed at him. He would never tire of it.

This time, you pulled him towards you, kissing him fiercely, humming at the taste of yourself on his tongue. He groaned, helping you pull his briefs down before settling his hips between your legs.

“I need you,” you whispered against his lips, bucking your hips so his hardened length slid against your soaked pussy.

He wanted to tease you a little bit more, to make you beg, but the need to be inside you was much greater. Reaching a hand down, he lined himself up with your entrance and ever-so-slowly sank into you. He leaned his forehead against yours, both of you exhaling sharply when he was fully seated inside of you.

Your thighs squeezed his hips as he began to thrust slowly, letting you feel every inch of him. You’d missed the feeling of him stretching you, his body flush against yours, unsure of where you ended and he began.

Soon he picked up the pace, groaning out your name as the obscene sounds of flesh slapping together filled the room.

“You take me so well…” he praised between pants, feeling your walls flutter around him at his words.

“H-harder, Aaron, please,” you begged. “Fuck… your cock just feels so good.”

He couldn’t deny you anything, truly. Pulling back a little, he brought your legs up so your ankles rested on his shoulders. He felt impossibly deep at this angle, the sensation close to being overwhelming, but not in a bad way. He pounded into you, and you gripped his shoulders tightly, as if attempting to anchor yourself.

Your mouth was slack in pleasure, brows furrowed and eyes fluttering closed. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, completely at his mercy. His movements soon became more erratic, hips jutting at an irregular rhythm. When he realized he was close, he wanted you to come along with him, so his hand snaked down between you. He rubbed your clit in quick, tight circles, your muscles tensing once again.

“C-can I…” he tried to formulate, unable to finish his sentence.

You understood him all the same, nodding enthusiastically. “Yes, inside me, please!”

Mere seconds after you said that, the two of you stumbled into oblivion, unable to hold back any longer. You cried out his name as he groaned, movements halting as he spent inside of you, his cock twitching. He shuddered as he felt you clench around him, milking out his orgasm.

“There’s a good girl. You like coming for me, don’t you?” He grunted, smirking at your flushed features.

You smiled demurely at his words, nodding. “Oh, I love it.”

As he started to come down from his high, he continued to gaze down at you adoringly, kissing your calf as he gently brought your legs back down. In his eyes, you were the most glorious sight of all, completely bare and undone. All thanks to him.

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he already felt like you were his. Despite keeping you at an arms length, he held his feelings for you close to his chest. He cared too much about you to put you in any sort of danger, which was why he did not let himself have what he truly wanted.

He lied on the bed facing you, pulling you closer to him and kissing the top of your head. You nuzzled his neck, breathing him in and rejoicing in the feeling of having him here, all to yourself. At least for the time being.

“I think this is my favorite part,” you said against his skin, almost purring at the feeling of his fingers stroking your hair.

He huffed in response, staring vacantly at the wall, deep in thought. It had to be his favorite part, too. He could feel as your heart rate slowed to a steady rhythm, matching his. Your lips planting lazy little kisses all over his throat.

To have you like this felt incredibly selfish, and he hated himself for putting you in this position. He couldn’t help his thoughts from beginning to spiral, depite the influx of euphoria running throughout his body.

“Have you ever…” he began, clearing his throat as he searched for his courage. “Thought of seeing somebody else?”

You pulled back to frown at him, but he didn’t meet your gaze. “What?”

“I mean, is just this good enough for you? Don’t you ever want more?”

“W-where is this coming from?” You asked, pulling further back. “Did you meet someone? Is this your way of telling me?”

He quickly shook his head. “No, nothing like that. I guess I just have a hard time believing you’re content with seeing me only every so often, no commitment, no guarantee of anything… I can’t think of the reason why.”

You averted your eyes. “Does there have to be a reason?”

He shrugged, unsure of what to say. Frankly, there were instances in which you wondered the same thing, but deep down, you already knew the answer. You were scared of facing it, yes, but you were even more scared of him finding out.

“Well, to be clear, if I didn’t want you around – if I didn’t want this – you wouldn’t be here right now,” you said, idly tracing patters in the sheet beneath you with your finger. “So maybe you’re just gonna have to take my word for it.”

Sometimes you truly couldn’t understand why he thought the world would be out to get you for being with him. You were no one, you reasoned. You were merely a sinful secret, a reprieve from the harsh realities of the world. Realities that he never wanted you to witness, especially not after everything he knew you’d already been through.

You were yet to teach him that you truly could take care of yourself, too. In due time, perhaps.

With a deep sigh, he wordlessly embraced you once more, keeping you close for a long moment. He tried to memorize the velvety soft feel of your skin, the light freesia scent of your shampoo, and how you would always eagerly melt into his kiss. He’d need something to hold on to until the next time he saw you.

“Are you going to stay tonight?” You asked softly, wanting to pretend a little longer.

He nodded, looking down to meet your gaze as you pulled back once more. “But I have a really early start tomorrow. I’ll probably be gone before you wake up.”

You stroked his cheek tenderly, silently holding his gaze for a moment.

“How many times are we supposed to say goodbye to each other, you think?”

“As many as it takes.”

Until it’s real. Until either of us actually means it.

#criminal minds #ssa aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #angst (potential happy ending)#aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner smut #hotch #minors dni

610 notes · View notes