#Now female Jesse however | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ireadwithmyears · 11 months

Text

Absent mindedly making me want you

Pairing: Ellie Williams / female reader

Word count : 12 K 💀 I swear it’s worth it I just really wanted a well rounded story even if this is just a one shot

Summary :

Due to her first-hand experience when it comes to drowning, Ellie takes it upon herself to teach you how to swim. Something that neither of you had anticipated, however, was how intimate this endeavour would be, resulting in a day filled with unresolved sexual tension, that, unsurprisingly and inevitably comes to ahead

Tags/warnings : established relationship, soo much sexual tension, smut (18+, MDNI), porn with minor plot, dom/sub undertones, soft dom Ellie, submissive reader, inexperienced reader (first time), light hair pulling, unsafe lesbian sex, fingering, oral (F receiving), face sitting, lots of dirty talk(bc you cannot convince me that Ellie doesn’t have an absolutely filthy mouth), praise kink, overstimulation, forced orgasm, multiple orgasms, pussy slapping (just once), aftercare, fluff, no use of Y/N

“I’m sorry, wait, hold on. You’re telling me you’ve never learned how to swim?”

The settlement of Jackson has been dealing with, hopefully, the last of its winter storms for the year. Spring had crept its way around the corner, shining its promisingly hopeful rays of warm sunlight for a few, blissfully beautiful, but in the end, all two short days

But then, in what must be mother nature’s idea of a harmless joke, it was crudely snatched away and replaced with icy winds that seemed to settle within your very core, leaving you shivering long after you went inside to get warm. Wyoming had been hit with a blizzard that had caught everyone so off guard, that Jackson was ill-equipped and unprepared to handle it, leaving most of the community snowed in; workloads being much reduced and limited to essential services for the time being, until the snow abated.

This is how you and a group of friends found yourselves in Jesse’s living room, cradling mugs of hot chocolate, enjoying the warmth that seeped into your fingertips, and making a blanket fort as if you were still school children at a sleepover. The snowy days and lack of work seemed to bring out a childish side to everyone, which is how you found yourself engaged in a game of never have I ever, sitting in a tight circle with your friends and girlfriend who, up until a few seconds ago, had been absent mindedly playing with your hair, your head resting against her shoulder, where you had been quite content to stay.

But, she had now pulled back, looking at you with her eyebrows raised, lips quirked down quizzically, as if in thought. You look around at your friends, taking note of everyone else who’s never learned. You’re relieved to find that you’re not alone in this. As expected, the Jackson old-timers, the few of you who have been settled here almost your whole lives, or at least, as long as you could remember, had never encountered an environment that required the ability to swim.

“Nope, it’s never been necessary.” You shrug.

She tilts her head, thinking, a few wisps of auburn hair escaping her ponytail as she regards you, teeth lightly grazing the bottom of her lip as she appears to be calculating an idea in her mind.

“As soon as it gets warm enough, I’m taking you out, and I'm gonna teach you. Joel taught me because he said that I would never know when it was a skill that would become necessary for me to have until it’s too late,” she says, nodding to herself decisively.

“Ah, I see your dad‘s passed off his overprotectiveness onto you,” you smirk, rolling your eyes fondly.

She hits you with a pillow for that.

“Quiet, you,” she says in mock offense.

She pokes your belly lightly and you instinctively jump back with a surprised squeal. You hear the quiet amusement of your friends, Jesse barely containing a snort as he watches. You’re about to utter a retort when she reaches out, pulling you against her, settling you on her lap, where you happily go.

When she presses a chaste kiss to your lips, hand settling at the back of your neck, fingers brushing against your skin, leaving goosebumps to form beneath their eager caresses, any kind of argument dies on your lips. Resistance melts as if it hadn’t been there in the first place, and all thoughts scatter like butterflies, only landing on the one thing that you care to focus on.

It’s her, with her teasing lips and wandering hands, that explore and touch you as if she wants to know you, to memorize you, like you’re her well-kept and cherished secret. She is the only thing that surrounds your mind, the only one who holds your attention so easily, and it takes you a moment to shake yourself free of this haze. It’s strange, and euphoric, a kind of feeling that you’ve never felt before, and you find that you like it – instantly craving more the second that her lips leave yours.

She's kissed you plenty of times before, and though it’s always been an enjoyable experience for you, it’s never felt like that. You decide to file that information away for now; you’ll sort out whatever the fuck these new feelings are later.

When you do come back to yourself, your head nestled against her shoulder, her arms wrapped around you as she looks down at you with warm, soft eyes, you think, yeah, you’ll let her teach you how to swim. You’ll let her do whatever she goddamn pleases, as long as it means that she’ll keep kissing you like that, and bringing out those good kind of butterflies that flutter in your stomach whenever she’s close to you.

To your surprise, Ellie makes good on her promise at the earliest opportunity.

In your experience, life is full of making plans and dreams that, more often than not, fall through. Even here, even in Jackson, where the walls are fortified and everyone is protected, the act of planning future endeavours is a luxury.

Spring finally comes , for real this time, with its customary blend of warmer weather that makes everyone instinctively turn their faces towards the sun, tentatively brushing its heat against their skin. And then, in complete juxtaposition, rain that starts in a slight drizzle that quickly descends into a downpour that sends those who’d ventured outside to appreciate the sunlight running back inside, scrambling to find cover, while quietly grumbling that they wish it was summer already, if only so that they could be freed from this topsy-turvy weather.

Humans are funny like that, you suppose. Never fully able to live in the moment, always wishing for the next season the second spring reveals its more wild side. They forget that the scorching heat of summer will have them complaining and wishing for autumn to come faster in a few months.

Nonetheless, it’s early summer, and you find yourself riding astride Ellie’s mare, Hazel, whose step is light and carefree, tale gently swishing in the warm breeze as you make your way to a clearing with a lake, a few miles out from Jackson’s gates. You’ve taken up the rear position, head resting against your girlfriend's back, arms wrapped around her waist.

From her position, she can’t see the expression on your face, the way you worry. Your bottom lip is between your teeth until it starts to bleed, because quite honestly, you’re nervous. Your instinct is to hide your feelings from her, because it feels silly. “A tough girl like you all freaked out over a little water?” You can almost hear her snark in your head. Logically, you know she wouldn’t say that, not to you, at least. But you can’t help but wonder if she’d think it.

You also know, however, that the minute you’re off this horse and she turns to look at you, she’ll read right through any bullshit or lies you come up with in an instant. Ellie’s just that kind of person; able to read right through people without them even having to say a word. So, as the bird chatter accompanies the beat of Hazel’s hooves against the ground, you speak, softly, tentatively, half-wishing that she won’t hear, almost hoping that your words will be carried off in the slight breeze that ruffles the braid against your back, delicately freeing strands of your hair.

“You know, I’m actually kinda fucking scared to do this,” you figure if you’re going to admit this, it’s just best to rip the Band-Aid off.

She holds the reins one-handed as her other comes to squeeze your wrist gently.

“Can you tell me why?”

You sigh, feeling your cheeks heat with embarrassment as you rest your chin against her shoulder. She’s so warm and steady, confident and self-assured in a way that you couldn’t even attempt to replicate.

She senses your unease, moving her thumb beneath the thin material of your sweater, stroking against the skin of your inner wrist. She lets it rest at the point where she feels your pulse lightly fluttering beneath her.

“Hey.” Her voice is soft, encouraging, “Talk to me, Sweetheart, you’ve got absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Her thumb resumes its movement, stroking back-and-forth along the inside of your wrist, soothing away the knot that’s begun to tie itself in your stomach.

“It’s stupid, I know. It’s just, I’m scared that I’m gonna drown, or something dumb like that,” you roll your eyes, feeling a little bit pathetic.

“It’s not stupid,” you’re not surprised that she’s come to your defence so quickly, but the conviction in her voice gives you pause.

She continues, “I almost drowned, once. Well, I guess it wasn’t almost, I did drown, though I don’t remember the details. It was before Joel had taught me how to swim, probably what made him decide that he had to. But, when he did, it took me the longest time to get over my fear. Every time I so much as touched the water, my mind would bring me back to that moment where I thought I was about to die.”

Her voice is sheepish, nonchalant, but you scoot closer to her on the saddle nonetheless, wrapping your arms just a little tighter around her waist.

“My point is, if you would have seen me when I was fourteen, the way Joel would have to coax me into the water bit by bit, you wouldn’t believe I’m the same person now. Now, I can be assured that whenever I go into the water, nothing’s going to happen to me that I can’t handle.”

She takes your hand in hers, and her voice is completely serious when she speaks now.

“Baby, you know I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, right?”

In spite of your nerves, you know the answer to this question immediately. It’s not even a question, really, you know without even having to think about it that she’ll keep you safe, protect you with her life if necessary, and you nod aggressively, even before she finishes speaking.

“I know, Elles.”

She gives your hand a squeeze.

“Good, because if my 14-year-old freshly traumatized from actually drowning ass can learn how to swim, I am fully confident in your abilities.”

Hazel trots on, and for the first time since you headed out today, you feel a genuine smile pulling the corners of your lips upward, your laughter accompanying the birdsong as you ride on.

“That’s it, just lean back into me, I gotcha.”

She’s teaching you how to float on your back, first, and as you lean against her and lower yourself into the water, you swear you feel the peak of one of her nipples, hardened from the cold, poking through the flimsy material of her tank top, brushing against your back as you submerge yourself. You have to fight to keep your expression neutral, trying not to betray anything on your face. If she asks why you’re blushing, you’ll just say it’s because of the heat.

Her hand holds you up, pressing into the small of your back as she instructs you, and it’s nice, the heat that radiates from the warmth of her skin. You feel it through your tank top, and maybe it’s because the water is cold and it’s heightening all of your senses, or maybe it’s because you’re in a pair of underwear and a tank top, feeling very exposed to your girlfriend in a way that you’ve never been with anyone, but you’re getting goosebumps, and you know for a fact that it has nothing to do with you being cold.

You hope to yourself that the feeling of having her hands on you will get easier throughout the day, because for some inexplicable reason, the feeling of her hand pressing against you like this is making it hard to focus on what she’s actually saying.

You quickly discover that it does not get easier as the day goes on.

It actually gets so much fucking harder to bear as the sun begins to sail higher in the sky.

When she’s about to teach you how to kick, her hands ghost over your hips, making you jump.

“Sorry, hun, I should’ve asked,” she apologizes softly.

You can’t bring yourself to look at her, and have to temper your voice to not sound eager as you respond. “No, you’re good, go ahead, I'm just cold, that’s all.”

When her hands caress your sides before settling against your hips, your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek, trying to contain the gasp that wants to escape.

Is she truly that fucking unaware of what she’s doing to you?

The skin where her fingers had trailed over tingles, and you have to give your head a slight shake to clear it, because that touch, regardless of how innocently meant it might’ve been to her, suddenly makes you want to get on your knees and beg her to touch you like that again.

You want more.

You learn the mechanics of how to propel yourself through the water, arms and legs separately. When it comes time to put the two together, Ellie eases you onto your stomach. The water is still shallow, your toes can still touch the ground. This was as deep as you’d be going today, she had told you, making you feel relieved.

“I’m just gonna put a hand on your stomach to hold you up. You’re still gonna have my help, I’m right here,” you’re stomach muscles tense when her hand lightly presses against it. She must think you’re nervous, because she gently strokes her thumb up and down between your rib cage, in a way that should be reassuring, but in reality, makes heat radiate from between your legs. You’re grateful that she can’t see your face, because the small pool of wetness that blossoms against your panties is undeniable now, and it makes your cheeks heat.

Okay, so you have to admit it now. You’re horny. In spite of the fact that you’ve never had sex and you haven’t been ready to take that step before today, as you slowly move through the water, feeling her hand pressing against your stomach, so close but so, so far from where you want her to be, you know that you want her, in a way that you’ve never wanted anyone before.

“At a girl, just like that,” she says encouragingly, and you swear you can feel your thigh muscles clenching involuntarily, thoughts drifting to a very different scenario in which she’d utter those words.

It’s late afternoon, the sun is high in the sky, warming your shoulders as you stand in the water. You’ve long ago adjusted to its cool, murky depths, and you’re not on edge anymore.

At least you weren’t, until Ellie suggests that to finish off the day, you try moving a little bit on your own. Your eyebrows raise, in obvious alarm, and her hands settle on your shoulders, quick to reassure you.

“You won’t have to go far, I’ll be right in front of you, I promise, all you need to do is just keep coming towards me.”

You tilt your head, considering. Yes, you’ve grown accustomed to the water, but whenever you’ve been moving, she’s always had a hold on you, and you felt safe, knowing that there wasn’t even a chance that you would go under.

Seeing your still evident hesitation, Ellie steps closer, a hand grazing against your waist as she presses her lips to your forehead briefly, before she speaks, her voice low and teasing against your ear.

“Can you do it for me?” She says softly. Her fingers are tracing slow, enticing circles over your waist, soothing you, but making you feel all worked up at the same time.

She’s so close that you can feel her lips brush against your ear when she speaks, and you can’t hide the shiver that runs down your spine. You’ve lost the ability to form coherent thought, for the moment, and you have to mentally kick yourself to push your mind back into any semblance of reality. God, if she asks you like that, you’ll do anything.

You don’t say that, though. You only nod meekly, not trusting your voice to be controlled when you speak.

When her hand gives your hip an appreciative squeeze, you feel her breath ghost against the curve of your neck as she speaks. “Good girl,” she practically purrs, a quiet, low hum against your ear that makes your knees buckle so hard that you have to dig your feet into the sand beneath you so that you don’t faceplant into the water.

When she pulls back, taking slow, tentative steps away from you, she knows that you’re watching her every move. She can feel your eyes burning into her, the further she moves away, nerves making you fidget with the hem of your top. When she’s several metres away, she reaches out a hand, beckoning.

“Okay, c’mere, Baby Girl.”

Her voice is low, persuasive, encouraging you forward. But it still takes you a solid 30 seconds of anxiously staring at her before you actually begin to move. She stands, arms folded, patiently waiting for you to give in, because she knows that sooner or later, you will.

She’s not that far away, not really. She still would easily be able to reach her arms out, steadying you if somehow, even in this shallow water, you managed to bring yourself under. Still, when you kick back, and you no longer feel the assurance of the soft sand against your feet, or Ellie‘s arm wrapped securely around your stomach to hold you up, you freeze. She notices instantly, and her voice is quick to call you back, bringing your racing heart back down with a few, gentle words.

“Hey, eyes on me.”

You swim forward, it’s unsure and hesitant, but at least you’re moving. You can’t always keep your eyes on her, but when your head is lowered to the water, you can always hear her voice, which she uses to get you to keep going.

“That’s it, almost there.”

She eggs you on, making your limbs instinctively move faster, cutting through the water with an almost desperate urge to get to her. You’re reaching for her, arms ready to wrap around her waist when she meets you halfway, scooping you up into her arms.

“That’s my girl,” she whispers against your lips, cradling the back of your head as she pulls you in. Your eyes flutter shut, and you can’t help the small sigh that she elicits from you as she lowers her head to kiss you. Her lips meet yours in a slow, soft caress, searing as her touch sets your skin alight with heat. Instinctively, only half aware of what you’re doing, your legs wrap around her waist, desperately pulling yourself against her with a sudden need that is too strong to be contained.

When her hand, tangled in your hair, gently pulls, forcing your head back as she deepens the kiss, your mouth falling open as her tongue teases past your lips, you are unable to hold back the little moan that escapes you, scalp tingling at the sensation of her fingers, curled against strands of your wet hair, holding tight, keeping you exactly where she wants you.

She’s so close, you realize. Your legs wrapped around her like this, your heat pressed so near to hers. It’s enough to send your thoughts reeling. Every nerve ending in your body is alive with want and need.

Her hand makes a slow path, warm, delicate fingers journeying from your waist all the way up to the peak of your breast, leaving a trail of goosebumps to form in their wake. Her hand rests against you, leaving you warm and wanting, and just when you think that you can’t handle any more, she moves her thumb in a slow, deliberate caress over your perked, hardened nipple, which, at this point, your tank top, with its thin, soaked through material that clings to your every curve, leaves little up to her imagination. She can see you, she can see all of you. Your breath shutters, the smallest sound of want, of need, of desperation escaping your throat in a choked, pleading moan that has your back arching.

And that’s when Hazel makes her displeasure and boredom known, letting out a loud, displeased nay of indignation as she stamps her hooves against the ground.

The noise is so sudden, so out of the blue, disrupting the sounds of the water gently lapping around you, and the ambiance of nature that you’ve grown quite accustomed to hearing over the past few hours, that it makes you both jump. You startle so hard that you nearly fall into the waters below, jolting back as your head whips around to discover the source of the noise. Ellie’s arms are secure, though, you feel her adjusting her hold on you, wrapping them around you tighter. She too frantically searches the area around you for signs of trouble.

When you realize that you’re in no imminent danger, and that it’s just Hazel being her typical, dramatic self, you both look at each other, and simultaneously, slow smiles creep across your faces. She can feel you begin to shake with laughter. All the adrenaline leaves your body in a relieved, sudden rush that escapes with the quiet, barely contained snort that you desperately try to hold back. After that, it’s over. Ellie’s face buries against your hair as you both begin to laugh uncontrollably.

You feel her breathy, relieved sigh ruffle your hair. “We should probably go see what her problem is – knowing Hazel, a mosquito probably landed on her and she freaked the fuck out. God, that horse is such a drama queen.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s an underlying affection that she can’t keep out of her voice, even if she tries.

“Probably saw us kissing and was offended. Maybe she’s homophobic,” you quip, chuckling.

Ellie gasps in mock horror. “I practically raised that horse, there’s no fucking way,” you both laugh as she begins to move towards the shore, you cradled against her with your head on her shoulder.

Riding back to Jackson when you’re extremely sexually worked up, it turns out, is no fun.

Your girlfriend, as much as you love her, is doing nothing to help the situation.

In general, Ellie prefers to ride horses that are the most chaotic, and that carry attitudes that make them almost borderline untrainable. She says it’s because she can empathize with them, she listens to them in a way that no one else does.

You think, privately, that it’s because it scares the shit out of Joel. He lives in constant fear that Hazel is going to throw Ellie off, sending his already accident prone daughter home with a broken leg and a concussion. You swear, Ellie enjoys getting a rise out of him, making his heart race with all of the reckless shit that she does.

Hazel has been sitting still for too long, and is now thoroughly enjoying the freedom of being able to trot about; she tries to take advantage of it regardless of the cargo on her back, making for a bumpy ride.

You’re riding in front, this time, and every time you hit an unavoidable bump, Ellie rests her hands on your hips. She claims that she’s doing it to keep you steady, make sure that you don’t fall off the horse. but, you know better. You know an ulterior motive when you see one. The way that her hands linger, fingers slowly teasing At the edge of your still damp top, drawing slow, light circles against the exposed skin she finds beneath, suggesting that she has other plans in mind. It makes you shiver.

“You cold, baby?” Her voice is low against your ear, the unexpected proximity making you jump. She cannot be serious. Even though it’s late afternoon, evening fast approaching, the day is still scorching, hence why you’ve opted out of wearing your sweater on the way back. You didn’t even want to put on shorts over your damp underwear, but alas, you still had some shred of modesty left, not wanting to make whoever was stationed to guard Jackson’s gates uncomfortable.

When her arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against her, you swear that you can feel her hips slowly moving as she grinds against you suggestively. Her lips brush against the bare skin of your shoulder, lingering as her warm breath ghosts against your skin, caressing against your neck with its heat. You can’t hold back your gasp at the feeling.

One of her hands travels down, settling against your knee with a gentle squeeze.

“How’s that, Baby Girl, is that better?”

God!

If she doesn’t fuck you soon, you swear you’re gonna kill her. Or, at this rate, she’s gonna kill you first with the way she’s sending your heart racing like that.

If you had thought that getting home, changing into a fresh pair of clothes, and giving yourself the chance to calm your racing heart would magically put an end to whatever was stirring up inside of you, you were sadly incorrect in your assumptions.

You’re sitting on the couch in your living room, wearing a sundress that falls to your knees because it’s light and you enjoy the slight breeze that it creates when you move. It flutters around your legs gently in the humid air. It might provide next to no relief at all, but it’s still better than nothing.

Ellie sits across from you in an armchair. Without even looking, you can feel her staring at you, eyes burning into you with a restrained and tempered want. You suspect that she’s holding it back, now wondering if she’s crossed a boundary today and made you uncomfortable.

That couldn’t be further from the truth, but Ellie is the type of person who acts on impulse, then completely over analyzes and over thinks her actions later, until she’s convinced herself that she’s fucked something up. She’s so bold, so confident in the things she does in the moment. But, in the end, she’s still someone who sometimes needs you to explicitly communicate and validate what she does after the fact. Regardless of how her confidence is so vast, and can sometimes be mistaken for being cocky, on the inside, she’s deeply insecure and needs reassurance.

Glancing up at her through your lashes, seeing the way that she twists and fidgets with the hair elastic on her wrist, the slight frown on her face, the almost guilty way her eyes flit away from you when she sees you looking, you know that she needs that right now, and you fully intend to not just give that to her, but encourage her forward.

Setting down the book that you weren’t actually reading, just trying to distract yourself with and completely failing, you rise to your feet, and as you move to her, she looks up at you with a smile, slipping back into its place effortlessly.

“Hey, baby, what’s up?”

Her voice is low and soft, and the way her eyes skim over you, pausing at where your dress falls, the hem barely skimming your knees, makes heat flush at the back of your neck.

“Want somethin’.”

You admit, crawling into her lap, bracing your hands on her shoulders.

“Yeah? What’s that?”

She quirks a brow, and the way her eyes smoulder as she looks at you makes you nervous, stomach fluttering with anxious butterflies as she looks intently at you.

You’ve got her full attention, and now that you do, you don’t know what to do with it. You were fully ready to take the lead on this, but at the end of the day, you’re still shy and inexperienced, and she’s everything that you’re not. To be honest, it’s intimidating, knowing her wealth of experience that you couldn’t even attempt to match.

The insistent butterflies take flight in your stomach; you decide that the only way forward is by pure instinct, and the blind hope that you won’t embarrass yourself too much.

You lean forward slowly, hesitating slightly until, with understanding, Ellie’s hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, encouraging you the rest of the way forward until your lips meet hers, and suddenly, you forget exactly what your plan originally was, if you even really had one in the first place. It easily slips out of your mind as you melt against her, effortlessly letting her take the lead.

Her fingers brush against your lower back, holding you securely against her. This isn’t like your usual, every day kiss, one that starts off slow and gentle. Her lips are insistent, pressing against yours with a desperate, persistent need. Her fingers absently brush against your scalp, running through your hair before cupping the back of your neck, the pressure just firm enough.

All you know is her. Her lips, claiming your mouth with a possessiveness that makes you ache for her inside. Her tongue, swiping over your lips, making you gasp slightly. As your lips part for her, you hear the low, satisfied sound she breathes against you as her tongue pushes past your lips, exploring your mouth with a hunger that you’ve never sensed in her before.

Her thigh pushes between your legs, parting them with ease and settling between them, grazing against your clothed heat. When her hand schemes down your lower back, caressing over your ass, before pressing against it with a firm squeeze, you can’t resist the way your hips buck against her, desperately chasing the friction, unable to hold back the small whimper when you’re clit presses against the rough denim of her cut-offs.

The sound seems to startle you so much that you still your movements, eyes going wide as Ellie pulls back to look at you. She doesn’t even bother holding back the smirk that overtakes her features.

“Oh, so that’s what you want.”

Her green eyes darken with want, voice low and gravelly with desire as she studies you, perched on her lap with a needy expression behind your innocent eyes. Her fingers brush against your hips, teasing over your skin.

Heat flushes against your collarbone, spreading to warm your cheeks as you try to look down, wanting to escape the scrutiny of her piercing gaze. She anticipates your movement, and stops you with a hand coming to curl beneath your chin, making a soft noise of disapproval.

“Look at me, pretty girl, and tell me what you want,”

Her voice is still soft, still gentle, but there’s a warning edge that’s crept into it, an effortless authority, that sends a jolt straight through you, making your already throbbing clit pulse with anticipation. Her fingers nudge your chin upwards, holding firmly as she directs your eyes to meet hers, smouldering with uncontained lust as she watches you.

“You.”

Your answer comes out in barely a breath, barely a whisper.

“I want you.”

You feel like your response sounds ridiculous.

It sounds small.

It sounds completely inadequate.

And yet, when Ellie’s hand snakes beneath your dress, fingers toying with the waistband of your panties, her lips brushing against your ear as she says low, “that, sweet girl, I would be happy to oblige.”

She flexes her thigh up against your heat, rubbing over your swollen clit, making you cry out in surprise.

Her shirt hits the floor with a dull thump, pulled off by your eager and curious hands. You want to see her. You want to touch her. You want...

But now that it’s off and she’s looking down at you like that, your brain catches up to your body. What are you doing? What are you supposed to do? You don’t know how to do this. You don’t know where to put your hands, and the idea of fumbling around and embarrassing yourself is enough to make you nervous.

She sees the moment you begin to question yourself and overthink it, in the way that you catch your bottom lip between your teeth, the way your hand flexes, curling into itself with anxiety.

“Hey,” she says softly, waiting for your eyes to meet hers. Her hands caress up and down the sides of your arms, pulling you from the spiral that your mind was going in, bringing you back to earth with a soothing touch.

“I know that this is your first time, and I just want you to know that I don’t expect anything of you tonight. The only thing I want is to make you feel good. So just, let me do that, okay?”

When she leans in, arms wrapping around you, and her lips press against your neck in a slow, seductive kiss, she can feel the shiver that runs down your spine, and she makes a note to remember that you’re sensitive there.

You feel her lips close to your ear as she speaks.

“Just let me take care of my girl tonight.”

Her hand schemes down your side, fingers drawing teasing circles over your hip. Your eyes close and your breath comes in a sharp, unsteady inhale and all you can do is look at her, eyes hooded, and say in a shaky voice, “please.”

You feel her low chuckle against your neck.

“Such pretty manners,” she hums against your skin, before you feel the gentle graze of teeth join her lips, delivering a small, sharp sting that you imagine will leave a mark.

This thought doesn’t scare you in the way that you thought it would. Your first thought isn’t of how on earth you’re going to cover this up tomorrow. The idea that there will be physical evidence of her, of what she’s doing to you, that there will be a reminder of it in the morning turns you on, sending a thrill through you.

Her tongue replaces where her teeth had just been, gently soothing over the sting. “Good girl,” she breathes, hand coming up to fiddle with the spaghetti strap of your dress. “I want this off,”

She waits for you to nod your consent, and then she’s sliding the straps off your shoulders, letting it fall. It pools around your waist in a soft brush of its material.

Fingers brush over your stomach, and you shiver with anticipation, already knowing the path they intend to travel over your skin. Her hands graze over your ribs, before she curls them around the curves of your breasts. She looks down at them, cradled in her hands, and her lips curl upward.

Warm, experienced hands massage and knead your breasts, gentle caresses and squeezes encouraging, coaxing your nipples to harden beneath her touch. Her thumb brushes over one of the hardening buds, and you gasp at even the slightest attention. She seems to relish in drawing sounds from you, her index finger joining her thumb, as she rolls your perked nipple between her fingers, adding the slightest pinch.

“You’re so fuckin pretty, you know that? The site of these,” she tweaks your other nipple, making your breath stutter, “peeking through your shirt at the lake was teasing me all day.”

Her face buries against your neck, she becomes rougher, more insistent. Still slow and attentive, but there’s a possessive edge to it as she leaves a trail of marks down your throat, your collarbone.

You love every second of getting to see this new side of Ellie, one that you haven’t seen before. The way that she’s intently listening to your body, finding out exactly how to touch you in a way that brings out those little gasps and mules that are like music to her ears, you want to see this side of her more often.

She’s enjoying the sight of her marks on you just as much as you are; a thrill runs through her, knowing that everyone will see that you belong to her.

She pauses toying with your nipple as her hand falls to your thigh, letting her breath graze against your skin, before she leans in, lips encircling the pebbled bud with a gentle suck. You whimper as her teeth barely graze your skin, tongue swirling over the small bud teasingly. She makes an appreciative sound against you while her fingers brush the bare skin of your inner thigh.

Her thumb teases over the seam of your panties, and you swear that you can feel her lips pull into a smirk as she feels the evident wetness pooling there. When she grazes a knuckle over your clothed clit, using a featherlight touch, your hips instinctively buck, you’re so worked up.

“Ellie,” your cheeks flush at the way that she’s got you whining for her with just one touch to wear you’ve been craving her to be. “Please, I, I need you to touch me there.”

“Aww, you’re so pretty when you beg for me,” she coos, two fingers caressing over your heat.

Your head falls back, eyes closing as you try to suppress the whimper that fights to escape at her teasing.

“Ellie, please,” and if you weren’t trying to beg before, you definitely are now.

She tilts her head, a slightly pleased expression crossing her kiss swollen lips as she looks at you, thoroughly unravelled before she’s even fully gotten you undressed.

“That’s all you had to say, Princess.”

Her voice is low and smooth, calm and effortless, in complete juxtaposition to her next actions, because suddenly, your dress is being yanked the rest of the way down, Ellie tossing it to the floor in a careless heap. She lifts you with ease, flipping you around so that your back is pressed against her bare chest. Her arms curl around you, holding you close to her, fingers trailing down your stomach, scheming over the waistband of your panties. One finger hooks under, and she pauses, voice suddenly soft.

“Can I take these off, baby girl?” Her finger strokes along the bare skin that she’s found beneath your panties, just above your mound, inviting, but not moving lower.

“Ellie,” you say with growing desperation. She’s teased you all day, and you can’t take much more of it. You’ve reached the end of your rope, and you can tell, without even having to look at her, that she’s fully aware of it, she’s just enjoying teasing you a little longer, dragging out the moment for even just a few seconds more. She’s so close to where you need her, but not close enough, and you need her to bridge the distance. “You can do whatever you want,” your head falls back against her shoulder, auburn hair tickling against your face as she leans down to whisper.

“Don’t give me any ideas, princess. You might regret it.”

Her words make you shutter, but, nonetheless, she pulls, and in a matter of seconds, she’s sending your panties to join your dress on the floor, with a practiced flick of her wrist.

She doesn’t waste much time now; her hands gently part your thighs.

“Spread your legs for me, Pretty Girl, I want to see all of you.”

She coaxes, not that you need much urging. You feel her legs cage over yours, wrapping around them, holding them open for her. Fingers ghost over your curls, dipping between your lips. She collects your wetness, fingers gliding effortlessly up to your clit, coating it in your own arousal.

“Barely touched you, and you’re already soaked for me,” two fingers press against your swollen clit, drawing slow, easy circles over your heat, already making your walls clench around nothing.

Her other hand moves, pausing to give an affectionate pinch to one of your perked breasts, making you gasp in surprise, your hips instinctively jolting forward, pushing against the hand that continues to massage, tease, and press against your clit. It continues its path downward, caressing over your hip, your inner thigh.

Long, tapered fingers dip between your folds, tentatively swirling around your entrance, gathering the wetness that’s collected there. You don’t realize you’re begging until, achingly slowly, one of her fingers brushes over your tight, glistening hole. She doesn’t push it forward, only curling it slightly to pet at your entrance.

“F-fuck, please,” your head falls back against her shoulder, and your hips push forward, trying to take her inside, but to no avail.

“Such a needy girl,” she murmurs, smirking at the way that you nod.

She’s got you so desperate that you’ll agree to anything she says; you won’t even try to deny it. It would be pointless, anyways. All she has to do is look down and see the way that your hips are bucking against her to know that you would be lying through your teeth. Nonetheless, she gently eases a finger inside you and you let out a long, tremulous breath as she pushes her finger, easing it all the way inside until she’s down to her knuckle.

She’s watching carefully for your reactions and she can feel how tight you are around her; she doesn’t want to cause you any pain. But when she tentatively, curiously, crooks her finger slightly upward, searching, a jolt runs through you, your body trembling and hips jerking forward, chasing the contact. It’s too much, and it’s not enough, and you need more.

“Fuck, I, Ellie, I I want,” your hands grip onto her thighs tightly.

She presses a soft kiss to the side of your neck before whispering,“That’s it, baby, use your words. Tell me what you need,” her finger pumps in and out at an unhurried, languid pace, barely grazing over that spot that you so desperately need her to touch.

“Need more of you inside me,” you whimper, unable to keep the desperate edge from creeping into your voice. A second finger joins the first, slowly pushing through your entrance. You immediately feel the stretch, unfamiliar to having someone else’s fingers there, but you’re quickly distracted, because as soon as both fingers are pushing into you, she increases the pressure against your throbbing clit, fingers drawing rough, tight circles over your swollen bud.

The sound you make is high and uncontained.

Calloused fingers brush against your inner walls, clenching around them as Ellie stretches you out. Her fingers curl, a slight beckoning motion as she easily finds that spot inside of you. The pads of her fingers press firmly against it, fingers insistently petting at your center with small, precise strokes against your sweet spot. She's hitting that spot in a way that you’ve never been able to accomplish on your own.

You’re seeing stars, because she’s everywhere you want and need her to be, and now, the only thing you can do is grind your hips down against her fingers that are so effortlessly toying with you.

It comes out of nowhere, the coil that eagerly begins to tighten in your stomach. Your toes curl with anticipation, and your hands are gripping onto her so tightly. You’re pretty sure that you’re the one who’s going to be leaving bruises now. Her fingers continue to thrust in and out of your weeping cunt, and maintain the relentless pressure against your clit.

Ellie’s chin rests against your shoulder, watching attentively, and if you could see her, you’d see how utterly enthralled she is at how much of a mess she’s made you, eyes heavy as she watches her fingers plunge in and out of your cunt. Her voice is low against your ear, rough, commanding when she speaks.

“That’s it, Baby Girl, I want you to fuck yourself on my fingers and cum for me.”

You’ve always experienced orgasms as a gradual build, a wave, gently cresting against the shore. So, the way the coil in your stomach abruptly snaps, almost an instant after Ellie finishes speaking, has you taken completely by surprise. She’s attached her lips back onto your neck, sucking a mark just against your pulse point, which she feels fluttering rapidly beneath her tongue.

There’s the stuttering of hips accompanied by a sharp cry and Ellie feels your walls tighten around her fingers, unceasing in her ministrations even as your orgasm barrels through you.

“Good girl, fucking give it to me,” she nearly growls, as her fingers continue to fuck you through your orgasm. All you can do is whimper uselessly, rocking your hips against her hand, as thrills ignite every inch of your body, making you tremble all over.

When you come down from your high, you’re collapsed against her chest, and she’s slowly easing off the pressure.

The first thing you notice is that you don’t feel the same as you usually would if you had just done this by yourself. For some reason, you thought that you were a one and done kind of girl. Usually you orgasm once, and then you take a nap, feeling for the most part satisfied. But as her fingers slide out of you, leaving you feeling empty, all you can think is that you want more.

Then, Ellie’s holding up her glistening fingers, slick with your arousal, in front of her face. You turn to watch her, curious, as she slides them into her mouth, licking them clean. She hums, and you raise a brow questioningly as she looks down at you, her eyes bearing an expression that is almost predatory in its intensity.

“What?” you ask, already feeling goosebumps rising along your skin.

“Nothing,” she shrugs, shaking her head slightly. “It’s just, now that I’ve had a taste of you, I want more.” You turn fully to face her, lips curving into a smirk. Your hand trails over her breasts, and she looks at you with interest.

“Please,” you’re still breathless, and your voice is still unsteady.

“I want you too.”

“Atta girl, just like that.”

Admittedly, as much as you’ve had countless fantasies involving sitting on Ellie’s face, the prospect of actually doing it, as much as you want to, gives you pause. She’s carried you up to the bed, at some point along the way, the rest of her clothes came off, you’ll probably find them scattered along the hallway later. But that doesn’t matter right now.

What matters is that you’re hovering over her face, looking down at her while trying not to look nervous and out of your comfort zone, which you totally are, and she obviously isn’t buying it. Gentle hands reach for you, holding your hips and pulling you against her easily.

“All the way down, Honey, that’s it,” she coaxes, easing you down onto her. “You’re good, you’re not gonna kill me,” her hand caresses up and down your side, soothing, even as you feel her warm breath ghosting over your heat, making your cheeks flush, as you look down at how close she is to you.

“I gotcha’, Pretty Girl, just relax,” her voice is smooth, assured, confident, in a way that makes your muscles relax in spite of yourself.

That’s when you feel her tongue, warm and wet, brushing through your folds. The sensation is so new, so unfamiliar to you, that for a second, you freeze, your breath catching in your throat.

Then, her tongue flattens, pressing over your clit and applying a slight pressure that has you arching against her. Her tongue curls over your swollen nub, gently drawing it towards her lips, an almost imperceptible pulling motion that has your hands scrambling for something to hold onto, finding a grip against the headboard of the bed.

She makes a contented hum as her lips wrap around your center, the sound vibrating against you making your hips jolt. Her hands curl around the undersides of your thighs, holding you in place. Your hands hold onto the headboard of the bed for dear life, feeling like it’s the only solid thing that you have to hold onto, keeping you from toppling over the edge and out of control.

You’ve never felt like this before. Each swipe of her tongue over your heat, the gentle pulse of her lips as she sucks, enveloping you in her warm, wet mouth, brings a new sensation thrumming through your veins, almost akin to fire as it shoots through you, pleasure licking over every inch of your skin like flames. It’s overwhelming, in such a way that you don’t know what to do with it, how to express it.

All you can do, at this point, is roll your hips against her mouth, hold onto the headboard, and let small, desperate whimpers escape your lips. You’re trying to hold onto some semblance of containing yourself, because you don’t know what would happen if you let yourself unravel completely. You’re terrified of what Ellie might see if you fell apart like that.

She seems to be doing everything she can to break away at your composure though. Her tongue is alternating between dragging slow, tender circles over your clit, and firm, quick strokes, that has your head falling against your hands, braced against the headboard. She flicks her tongue against you, her lips surrounding your clit in a particularly firm suck, and before you know it, you’re spilling over the edge, eyes shut tightly, and breath releasing in a long, shuttering moan that seems to run from the top of your head to the tips of your tightly curled toes, her tongue continuing to caress you over your peak.

She moans into you, and it all becomes too much. Your head is thrown back and your hands are reaching down, tangling in her hair, to push her away or pull her closer; it’s unclear in your fuzzy mind. All the while, her insistent tongue continues to swirl over your increasingly oversensitive bundle of nerves, the relentless and inescapable pleasure making you shiver all over, while a light sweat breaks out on your bare skin.

You only drift back into yourself when you become aware of a shift. It’s so fast, you barely have time to even blink, before Ellie manoeuvres you, flipping you onto your back and roughly parting your thighs with her hands. Her fingers run through your glistening folds, calloused thumb pressing against your aching, overstimulated clit. The sensation has you gasping, crying out, and trying to close your legs, buck your hips, move away.

Frantically, you try to jam your legs shut, trying to escape her mercilessly teasing fingers. Rough hands force your thighs apart, putting you on display for her as she holds you open.

“Uh uh, not this time, Baby,” she tuts disapprovingly. “No more holding back on me, Sweet Girl,” listening to the low, dominant tone of her voice is like a drug to you, and your eyes roll back into your head as she speaks.

“I want everyone to know how good I fuck this pretty little pussy.” Two fingers circle your clit and you jolt, trying to move away. But a strong arm pushes your hips down, pinning you against the bed easily.

Faster than you can process, her fingers retreat, and you don’t even have time to feel relieved, because a split second later, her hand comes down against your cunt with a smack, delivering a stinging, rough spank that has you crying out, clit throbbing and pulsing with the agonizingly delicious mix of pain and pleasure.

“Now, you’re gonna be a good girl, and you’re gonna take everything I give you.”

Two fingers notch at your entrance, but she waits, looking at you, a silent question, an invitation for you to tell her that this is too much and that you need to stop. You know she would in a heartbeat if you told her that this was too much or too rough for you right now, and that’s what makes you feel safe enough to continue.

So, when you respond by attempting to push your hips forward against her, a soft whimper falling from your lips, she smirks, and with the slightest movement of her wrist, her fingers thrust into you. Seconds later, her face is buried in between your legs, tongue gently lapping at your sensitive clit. After two orgasms, you’re hyper aware of every movement; every swirl of her tongue is sweet, hot agony that undoes you in seconds.

At the same moment her lips take your clit into her mouth, holding it as her tongue swipes a tight, rough circle over your heat, her fingers curl, and she finds that spot inside you that makes your legs begin to shake, pressing against it with each punishing thrust of her fingers.

Your moans are loud, unrestrained, sounds that you would be embarrassed to make if you were in any way capable of controlling them. But you’re not, because your mind is only filled with her, her and her tongue on your clit, and her strong fingers pumping in and out of your wet cunt, playing with you as easily and as effortlessly as she plays the guitar.

She’s clearly enjoying the sounds that fall from your lips, every beg and plea and moan of her name making her feel quite smug that she’s undone you so easily…she encourages you to continue, making a contented hum against your clit. She only looks up long enough to say:

“That’s it, I want to hear you being such a dirty little girl for me.”

A third finger slowly, carefully, pushes in; the stretch makes you feel so full, so good, it nearly takes your breath away. Her fingers thrust in and out slowly, testing the waters, wanting to make sure that you’ve adjusted – but you are having absolutely none of it.

Your head is thrown back and your hips are thrusting forward, or trying to, but her arm is so fucking strong that she doesn’t even have to try that hard to keep you pinned against the mattress, exactly where she wants you to be. You don’t even realize you’re begging until you see her smirking up at you.

“Please, Ellie, please, fuck, I-I want,” it’s a challenge to even string coherent words together, but you’re distracted by her face, now looking up at you as her thumb takes over, stroking against your clit.

“Come on, Baby girl, tell me what you want,” she presses her thumb a little harder into you, making you gasp brokenly.

You take a breath to steady yourself, and your words still come out stuttered, but you say them, blushing in a way that she finds absolutely endearing considering you’re already spread out on her bed with three of her fingers buried inside of you.

“I-I want it harder,” you admit, your cheeks burning. “Want you to fuck me.”

“You’re so fuckin pretty when you use your words like that, Baby,” she praises. “Such a good fuckin girl,” then, her fingers are thrusting in and out, setting a rough pace, hitting that spot in a way that feels so much stronger than it already was.

When she lowers her head, tongue dipping between your folds, returning to feast at your clit rough, persistent swirls and flicks over your swollen center, any slight ability to contain yourself is lost. You’re not aware of the sounds that you’re making, or the way that your hands scramble to find a hold on something, anything solid, eventually coming to clutch the soft bed sheets, holding them tightly in between your fingers.

You’re only aware that your orgasm is approaching, and that Ellie, little by little, is nudging you towards a peak that once you make it over, you think might absolutely wreck you, in the best possible way. All you know is that you want this, you want her. You need her.

God.

You really fucking need her.

She feels your walls beginning to flutter around her, her free hand shifts down, coming to grip your thigh, opening you even wider for her.

“Come on, baby, wanna hear all those pretty sounds you make for me when you cum.”

She says against you, adjusting her wrist to fuck you with her fingers deeper. The new angle has you keening, hips desperately thrusting to chase the friction of whatever new spot she’s hitting.

Her tongue flattening against you as she draws firm, tight circles over your bundle of nerves, The way that your back is arching, hips uselessly trying to grind down against her and her relentless fingers, fucking into your weeping cunt mercilessly. She’s guiding you exactly to where she wants you to go, straight up towards that peak. Your vision blurs.

“Fucking give it to me, Pretty Girl, want you to cum for me, all over my fingers and my mouth.”

Your back arches off the bed, and suddenly, all you know is wave after wave of ecstasy that crashes through your body, electric shocks that pulse through you, making you jolt and flail uselessly combined with the rhythmic pumping of her fingers, and the dipping and swirling of her tongue against you.

She works you through your orgasm, never slowing the movements of her tongue or her fingers that continue to drag in and out of you, sustaining your pleasure for as long as she can possibly hold it. Her lips wrap around your clit, as her tongue swipes through your folds, collecting all the wetness that she can find. She hums against you, encouraging your loud moans, and by the time it’s over, you’re a shaking, completely fucked out mess on her bed,

If you happened to see the expression on her face as she watches you writhing beneath her, your hands twisting the sheets into knots and broken, unrestrained whimpers fall from your lips, she’s taking in the sight with immense appreciation, as if you’re the work of art she’s just created.

Turns out, the only thing that you have the ability to do post-three orgasms is roll over onto your stomach, shaking and trembling, and try, desperately, to regain your breath.

Ellie, for her part, crawls up the bed beside you, hand coming up to tenderly stroke back the hair that sticks to your forehead, before gently rubbing your back.

“Easy, baby, that’s it, just breathe for me.”

You’re eventually able to regain your breath, but your body feels floppy and light, and you can’t even begin to comprehend the slightest of movements. Ellie tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, saying softly, “I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna get something to clean you up, okay?”

You nod in slight acknowledgement of her words, but your mind is still fuzzy, and the only thing that you’re really aware of right now is the sudden sleepiness that comes over you in a soft, comforting wave. You feel her stroke your hair once more before she rises from the bed, briefly pausing to look at how fucked out you are, stretched out across her bed, bare skin glistening with sweat that makes your hair stick to your forehead, eyes heavy and cheeks flushed.

“So pretty,” she breathes, before exiting.

She isn’t gone long, and when she returns your eyes are closed, head buried against a pillow. She kneels between your legs, hand reaching out to gently rub your back as you turn your head to look at her.

“Just need to clean you up, pretty,” she whispers, and you realize how sticky you are in between your legs.

“Okay,” you mumble, your voice sounding slightly hoarse, similar to the way it does when you first wake up in the morning. Were you really moaning that much?

You feel a warm, damp washcloth brushing against your inner thigh. It’s nice, soothing, but as Ellie moves towards the place in between your legs, you instinctively flinch, overstimulated and slightly sore.

A large hand splays out over your back gently. “I know, Honey, it’s okay, I've got you,” Ellie soothes.

She runs the cloth over your folds. “There we go, sweet girl, almost done.” Its brush against your clit makes you cry out, leg kicking out instinctively. Ellie shushes you gently, pressing chased, featherlight kisses against your spine, the curve of your hip, effectively distracting you while she finishes cleaning you up.

When she’s done, she throws the cloth to the side, coming to sit beside you. “Okay, Baby, I just need you to get up and go for a quick pee.” You turn your head to look at her in bewilderment, staring up at her with your eyebrows raised.

“Why?” You ask, confused. She chuckles softly at your expression.

“Because, nowadays there isn’t much to protect ourselves from any infections that we could pick up while doing this,” she gestures vaguely. “And this is the one thing that we can do to at least try to help prevent something from coming up,”

“Buuut Elliee, I don’t wanna get up,” you grumble, burying your face back into the pillow.

She sighs softly, “come on, it’ll be fast, and then we can get back into bed and cuddle for as long as you want.”

That idea is tempting, but she could just get into bed with you right now and cuddle. Plus, you want to know who gave her this information, because it sounds pretty fucking stupid to you.

“I don’t want to,” you grumble.

Ellie playfully hits you with a pillow. “Come on, Lazy Ass,” she’s guiding you to sit up now, in spite of how much you’re resisting, because the bed is so warm and soft.

“Besides,” she reasons, “we both go out on patrol in three days, and I am not dealing with you having to dismount your horse every five minutes because you got a urinary tract infection and now you need to pee every time we hit a bump on the path.”

You dramatically sigh in defeat. “Okay, okay, I get it, Jesus Christ,” you roll your eyes in mock exasperation, but the smile pulling at your lips betrays your true feelings. “On one condition,” you say, folding your arms across your chest.

“What?” Ellie is fighting to restrain a smile, because you’re just too goddamn cute when you’re like this.

“You have to carry me there and back,” you say, reaching your arms up like a child who wants to be picked up.

She sighs, feigning annoyance, but she’s already positioning an arm beneath your knees. “You’re such a fucking brat,” she mutters against your hair as she cradles you against her chest.

You snuggle into her, smile growing wide as she moves towards the door, holding you in her arms. “Don’t lie, you love it.”

“Shut up ,” she says, hand sneaking around to give your ass an affectionate squeeze, making you gasp and giggle in surprise, instinctively kicking, nearly falling out of her arms in the process. But her hold is secure, arms tightening around you as your cheek presses against her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, babe, I got you.”

After gently setting you back in bed, once you’ve finally gone to the bathroom, grumbling the whole way there and back, Ellie went to get you a glass of water. She’s been gone for less than 30 seconds, and you already miss the feeling of her body, Strong and warm and steady, pressed against you. While she’s gone though, you entertain yourself by letting your eyes roam over your body, finding the evidence of her, left behind on your skin. You discover each new mark, each trace of her presence imprinted on you with the anticipation and joy of a child finding Easter eggs.

Your hand runs over your inner thigh, Lips pulling into a smile as you take in the sight of the finger shaped bruises that she left from where she gripped onto you so tightly. The site makes a warm, tingling feeling settle in your stomach.

You don’t hear her approach from behind you, and she must not see the expression on your face.

“Did I hurt you? Was it, was it too much?”

You turn, eyebrows raised and already shaking your head with vehemence, to find her watching you, biting her lip, concerned frown on her face.

“What, no, no, Ells, it’s just,” you avert your eyes, the blush creeping onto your face is mortifying, and in spite of everything you too just did, and how you had expected talking about things like this would be easier now, it’s still hard to admit it out loud.

She catches your chin in her hand, gently redirecting your eyes back up to meet hers. Seeing her so close to you, you don’t have to look hard to see the anxieties, trying to be contained and hidden, but dancing behind her eyes nonetheless.

You feel your heart clench. She’s opened up to you about her past on a few occasions, but when she has, it was easy to sense how fearful she was of her own inclinations towards violence, regardless of how necessary and imperative it might have been for her survival. She’s like a fire, impulsive and easy to set off, her flames all-consuming without a second thought. But after, even now, even when all this is small bruises marking your skin in the heated passion of lust, that will fade and be gone within a few days, she’ll still twist herself into knots, thinking and overthinking until she’s convinced herself that she’s ruined you.

“Please, Babe, tell me the truth,” her voice is soft, barely a whisper, but you hate the way that there’s a slight tremble in it, so uncharacteristic of Ellie. It breaks what’s left of your embarrassment, and the words fall from your lips without hesitation now.

“It wasn’t too much. It’s just, I-I liked it...the marks... I think it’s kind of hot.”

You wonder, in the back of your mind, if she can feel the way your cheek heats beneath her hand, resting against it ever so lightly. Her breath comes out in a soft, surprised laugh, and you’re relieved to see the concerned edges fade from her expression, a smirk instead overtaking her lips. “

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she whispers, fingers coming to trace over the scattered marks, littered across your neck and collarbone.

“You’re cold,” she observes, hands running up and down your arms, goosebumps beginning to form there. You hadn’t even noticed that you had begun to shiver.

When she crawls into bed behind you, wrapping her arms around you, Holding you against her, her warmth settles into your bones, running through you like melted chocolate. She brings the glass of water to your lips, insisting that you drink, and refusing to back down, in spite of your protests that you’ll need to get up to go pee in the middle of the night and does she realize how annoying that is?

She does, but she still coaxes you to drink half the glass.

You hold the glass up to her, pouting slightly. “Now you drink some, I feel like you should, too, because you were doing a lot of work, you know, with your mouth,” you say suggestively.

“Oh my God, shut up,” she groans. She gives you a playful shove that nearly makes the glass tumble from your hand. But she has quick reflexes, and her hand is steady against yours as she gently grabs your wrist, preventing the spill.

“Careful, Hun,” she cautions, plucking the glass out of your hand easily. “If only to appease you,” she sighs dramatically, before tipping it back and draining the glass.

The inevitable crash that you hadn’t, but probably should’ve, anticipated hits you all at once. It starts with a sigh that quickly turns into a yawn that seems to take all of your energy with it. You move to shrug your shoulders, brush it off like it’s nothing, because honestly, it’s only just starting to get dark outside, you can’t go to sleep right now, it’s just too early.

Your bones feel oddly heavy, sore in a way that shouldn’t surprise you, but it does. Adrenaline, and passion have temporarily blinded you to trivial things, like being a human and having a body that can get physically exhausted, especially after trying so many new things at once. You wince because fuck, you hadn’t realized how tense you had been holding yourself today until now, and the consequences are quickly setting in.

She’s watching you, observing you closely as she always does. She doesn’t say a word, but she intuitively understands.

She brushes your hair off to one side, and you shiver as your bare neck and shoulders are exposed to her. Warm hands settle over your shoulders, there’s a gentle squeeze, an unspoken question, an offering. The way your head falls forward, the low, contented noise that falls from your lips is all the ascent that she needs.

Her thumbs gingerly press into the tense muscles beneath them. She hums sympathetically, feeling how tender you are beneath her. She keeps her movements slow and precise as she presses her thumbs against you, applying a slight pressure, running them over the backs of your shoulders, gently encouraging the tension to release. She’s ceaselessly patient, only continuing her path upward when she can feel your muscles relax, giving into her ministrations.

She continues to massage across your shoulders and your upper back, seeming to find and undo tension in places that you didn’t even realize you were carrying. It makes you sleepy, the gentle caress of her hands gliding over your skin, paired with the firm press of her knuckles, exactly where you need it.

One of her hands slowly runs up the back of your neck, gently cupping you at the base of your skull. Her fingers smooth over your temples, stress easing away as your eyes flutter shut. Her other hand continues to press and massage in between your shoulder blades, firm and insistent as she smooths her thumbs over the tight knot that’s gathered there, with patient persistence, making it unravel at her touch, and forcing the tension to leave your body.

“Relax, Pretty Girl, I’m not going anywhere,” her voice is a low rumble against your ear.

Her lips brush over one of the bruises she’s left on the side of your neck, and suddenly, it’s like all the tension bleeds out of you, draining so quickly that you don’t have time to catch yourself.

She laughs softly as you try to contain the yawn that tears through you as she eases you back towards the pillows. She wraps a soft blanket around both of you, covering your bodies and making sure you’re tucked in securely.

She settles in behind you, warm, bare skin pressing against yours as she curls herself around you. A strong arm wraps around your waist, gently tugging you close to her as her leg hooks over yours.

You’re barely awake, only aware enough to snuggle into her, saying sleepily, “if this is the treatment I’m going to get after one swimming lesson, what are you gonna do when I’ve mastered it?”

There’s a soft chuckle, low against your ear as she whispers, “don’t worry about that, pretty girl, I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”

She kisses the top of your head, lingering for a moment as she adoringly watches your eyes flutter. You sigh with contentment, letting a sleepy smile graze over your lips. Maybe she doesn’t realize what she’s doing, maybe she isn’t even aware…but, in this moment, you’re surrounded by her.

Her safety.

Her warmth .

Her unconditional and unwavering love is curled around your heart as closely as she’s curled herself around you. She’s here, she’s safety, she’s love,and right now, she is all that you could ever want.

this was actually my first attempt at writing smut, and in spite of how nervous I am to share it, I’m actually really happy with how it turned out. So if you enjoyed it, please let me know, notes, comments, and re-blogs are so appreciated. Thank you so much for reading

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fluff #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us smut #the last of us #The last of us part

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starry-crossing-zone · 3 months

Text

Oh, Captain - Rex (TCW)

Summary: The 501st is getting a new Co-General and Rex wants to be prepared. His brothers, however, dare him to flirt with a woman at 79s the night before. Length: 1370 words Warnings: Unnamed Female Character (Can be Read as OC or Reader); Rex's Horrible Flirting Skills; Fives is a Menace

79s was packed full of clones as usual, though the color scheme of the night was predominantly blue and yellow for the 501st and 212th. They had just finished a battle together in the Mid Rim and returned to Coruscant to resupply before they shipped out again. And in the case of the 501st, they were on Coruscant to pick up their new Jedi general.

It was the only reason why Rex went out that night in the first place.

He had to make sure that all of his men were presentable for their meeting with the new assistant general, who had been assigned to the battalion so that General Skywalker could be called away more often. General Skywalker assured Rex that the new assistant general wouldn’t be that much of a stick in the mud, but Rex didn’t want to take a risk.

“Oh, come on, Rex, you heard the General. The new general’s fun. Have a drink for kriff’s sake,” Fives urged, placing a drink in front of Rex.

“I’m all set, Fives,” Rex replied, pushing the drink away from him.

“Who is the new assistant general, anyways?” Echo asked curiously, leaning over. “The Commander didn’t have a name.”

“I bet they’re a brand new Jedi. Young like General Skywalker,” Jesse stated, earning some nods. “He mentioned that they trained together.”

“It’s not for us to speculate,” Rex replied, earning a sigh from some of his brothers. “We need to be prepared. I don’t want the new general’s first impression of us to be that we look sloppy.”

“Oh, relax, Rex,” Cody spoke up, causing the rest of the 501st to perk up. If anyone could talk some sense into Rex, it would be Cody. “You’re going to be fine. Have a drink. We were just in trenches on a dustball for fifteen rotations. Or maybe make a new friend.”

“Like her,” Fives interjected, smacking Rex on the shoulder.

The entire table turned to watch a humanoid woman take a seat at the bar. A woman alone in a clone bar? It would be about five seconds before she was swarmed. But there was something about her that intrigued Rex. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was just something about her that drew all of his attention without any work at all.

“I’ve never seen her here before,” Echo stated as the woman ordered a drink.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing her around,” Fives spoke up before glancing at Rex. “And looks like you wouldn’t either, Captain.”

“Not all of us think with what’s under our codpieces, Fives,” Rex grunted in return.

“I’m thinking that they are, though,” Jesse pointed out, gesturing to two clones who made their way over to the mysterious woman. “Hopefully her first experience with a clone isn’t one of Fox’s shinies. She’ll never come to a clone bar again.”

Rex glanced over at the woman again before getting up from his seat. Fives looked over at Echo with a shit-eating grin, to which Echo simply rolled his eyes. Rex walked around the bar, nodding to his brothers that he passed, but keeping his gaze on the mystery woman and the two clones that sat down next to her.

But before they got too far into a conversation, she seemed to say something with a seductive smile and his brothers got up and left her alone without a word of protest. Now, downright curious, Rex found his legs carrying him over to the woman. She turned her head and their eyes met for the first time. His heart seemed to stutter as he took the last few steps toward her.

“They weren’t bothering you, were they?” Rex asked, causing the woman to smile.

“No, not at all. I told them that I was just looking for a drink and nothing more. They seemed to do the rest of the math.” She took a sip of her drink, peering over the rim of her glass and practically into Rex’s soul. “Sorry if you were planning on playing hero, Commander.”

“It’s Captain, actually. Captain Rex,” Rex introduced himself, causing the woman’s eyes to widen a small fraction.

“My apologies, Captain Rex.”

And there was that arrhythmia again. Was this woman part-siren or something?

“You can just call me Rex,” he assured her, causing the woman to smile softly. “And what exactly should I call you, ma’am?”

“Anything but ‘ma’am’,” she quipped, taking another sip of her drink. “You’re making me feel a little too old, Captain.”

Kriff, he could get used to her calling him that.

They got to talking. Not so much specifics about themselves, but rather life around them. The GAR, galactic politics, the drink menu. Rex didn’t even realize that he literally didn’t know any basic facts about the woman until she got up to leave for the night.

“Do you come to this part of town often?” Rex asked, causing the woman to chuckle.

“Not usually, but I suppose I could make an exception . . . Captain.”

Rex watched her walk out the door before he was suddenly swarmed by brothers, rattling off question after question. Up until Cody, as the highest ranking officer of the bunch, took control of the situation and asked one simple question.

“What’s her name?”

Rex opened his mouth to reply, but instead winced, causing his brothers around him to groan.

“He’s hopeless,” Fives sighed, shaking his head.

“He was hopeless the second that he decided to follow your advice,” Echo pointed out.

*~*~*~*

Rex walked through the rows of his men, inspecting them one last time while the General and Commander brought aboard their new General. Co-General. Whatever. Either way, Rex wanted to impress them. And that meant that his men had to be in tip top shape. But when he heard the doors to the hangar open, Rex quickly took his place at the front.

Only to nearly drop his helmet when he recognized the woman walking with Anakin and Ahsoka. And when he heard Fives’s giggle, he could only swallow down a choice set of words.

“And here’s our captain, Rex,” Anakin introduced, causing their eyes to lock for the first time since the bar. “The best of the best.”

“I would expect no less,” she replied with an easygoing and mischievous smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Captain Rex.”

“You as well, General,” Rex practically choked out, trying to not sweat through his blacks.

“Rex, this the new co-general,” Ahsoka introduced, adding the general’s name. “She was Master Plo Koon’s padawan and served with the Wolffe Pack.”

“Why’d you leave it, General?” Rex directed towards the new general, who smiled at him.

“The Jedi Council needed someone to babysit General Skywalker and because I value public service above my own sanity—”

“—This whole spiel again?” Anakin complained, causing her to turn to him.

“You're just upset because Admiral Yularen laughed in your face when I told him what happened back on Corellia when you—”

“—Perhaps we should move on to the rest of the tour,” Anakin stressed, causing her to smirk.

“Of course.”

Anakin and Ahsoka led the way through the rows of troopers, though she lingered behind them. Looking over her shoulder, she offered Rex a smile that made his heart stop for a moment all over again.

“I’ll be back to meet the full battalion formally once the rest of my briefings are concluded. If that fits with your timeline, Captain?”

“Yes, of course, General.”

“Great.” She offered him a curt nod before that smirk returned. “And next time we’re at 79s, drinks are on me, Captain.”

The galaxy was testing him today, that was for sure. Rex watched her walk off with Anakin and Ahsoka before slowly putting his bucket back on his head.

“Fives,” he growled out. “You have exactly five seconds before—”

Fives took off in a sprint across the hangar and Rex took off after him. Echo sighed and shook his head before turning to his comms. Sending Commander Cody a message that Rex did learn that the woman that he was flirting with last night was the new general, Echo couldn’t help but laugh as he watched Fives evade Rex.

“Well, this is going to be interesting.”

#captain rex #sw tcw #tcw #captain rex x reader #captain rex x oc #captain rex x jedi reader #captain rex x female reader #rex x reader #rex x oc

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sunkendreams · 8 months

Text

SIDELINES.

you haven’t seen jesse pinkman since high school — and he’s the last person you ever expected to connect with. however, times have changed — and so have you.

part 1. | part 2. | part 3. | part 4. | part 5.

༄ PAIRING. | jesse pinkman x [female] reader.

༄ FORMAT. | one-shot, multi-part — not requested.

༄ WORD COUNT. | 9.6K.

༄ WARNINGS. | drug use, references to substance use/addiction, past jane/jesse, emotional trauma/hurt, jesse’s internalized hatred/guilt, acquaintances to lovers, smoking, smut, smut with plot, making out, dirty talk, breast play, cunnilingus, hair pulling, bottom!jesse, riding, morning sex, aftercare.

༄ AUTHOR’S NOTE. | I don’t know where I’m getting these ideas, but I have a lot of projects in the works right now. Some are horror-related and some aren’t. Honestly, I’m just happy to be writing again no matter what the content is. Thank you guys for your continued support & love. I couldn’t do it without you all! Peace! ☺️

The scent of marijuana, pungent smoke, and a toxic amalgamation of sweat and AXE body spray wafted throughout the house, music jacked up so loud that it made your ears ring. You remained at your perch, stuffed along the wall of a stranger’s house while your friends got stoned in another room.

You were dragged to this party out of sheer loyalty to your friends and a boredom that outweighed anything else. Regret rippled through you, nose stinging from the foul smells that hung like a noxious haze in the living room. The drink you clutched within one hand was watered-down, tiny slivers of ice swirling around within the cup.

Some mediocre hip-hop song blasted throughout the house, bass loud enough to shake the very foundation — you were thoroughly surprised that the police hadn’t been called in for a noise complaint.

Grey wisps of smoke drifted in your direction, and you swatted at it with a wrinkled nose. It wasn’t your typical scene — the sort of party, at least. Partying was something you were accustomed to — harmless college parties with drinks and weed, but this was something else.

There were people snorting lines of cocaine off of a glass coffee table, and you swore that one person had passed out entirely in the kitchen. A strange sensation crawled across your flesh — a feeling that you weren’t exactly meant to be here. Your friends had driven you down here, but you were prepared to take your chances with walking home.

“Wanna hit?” A man asked you, gsze half-lidded, lips curled into a less than attractive smile. He propositioned you with a jerk of his head, motioning toward the thin line of fine, white powder sitting along the coffee table.

“No thanks.” You waved one hand in dismiss, weaving through the crowds to retrieve another drink. The kitchen was destroyed, ravaged by strangers with little respect for the home. Debris, trash, and the remnants of marijuana were everywhere. You nearly stepped on broken glass.

It felt like an out-of-body experience — as if you were simply a spectator, an observer who watched the chaos around you. You didn’t thrive or revel within it — you were indifferent. The vices of your friends differed greatly from your own, to quite an extreme degree.

As you watched the swarm of people, all huddled together within the living room, the air became stifling and stuffy, as if it threatened to suffocate you altogether. They reminded you of zombies — barely moving in one place, all drugged-out from whatever concoction of pills and illicit substances were available at this party.

You silently slipped outside, abandoning your drink somewhere on the windowsill as you stepped out into the cool night breeze. You inhaled, greedily drinking in the crisp freshness of dusk, hands roaming over your thin cardigan as you began to shuffle to the edge of the porch.

Moonlight pooled through the wispy clouds as they fluttered through the night — everything was so much quieter outside. The thumping of the bass had diminished, and the skunk-like scent had dissipated altogether.

The door opened behind you, a figure slinking out onto the porch a few feet away from you. “Hey.”

It was somewhat unfamiliar until you’d actually glanced over your shoulder, gaze landing upon a most familiar face — Jesse Pinkman. The two of you made eye contact; Jesse’s face blossomed with a subtle realization.

“Holy shit,” You let out a bark of a laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Jesse Pinkman, right? You went to J.P Wynne.” You hadn’t seen Jesse Pinkman since high school graduation — you distinctly remembered his social circle.

Jesse recognized you sometime during the midst of the party — a true wallflower, despite your popularity in junior high. It surprised him to see a girl like you at one of his drug-laden festivities, but then again, life was full of surprises. He looked tired, skin pale and eyes baggy as he leaned against one of the columns.

“Yeah,” Perusing his pockets, he fished out a cigarette, placing it between his lips. “You were one of the Honor Society members, right?” Jesse recalled your stellar academics and social standing — his polar opposite.

You made a face, keeping your arms folded across your abdomen. “Yeah.” Admittedly, Jesse wasn’t exactly someone you were friends with in high school. Cordial was a good word for it — your parents never would have allowed you to hang out with someone like him, anyway. “We were in Mr. White’s chemistry classes together.”

Upon mentioning Walter White, Jesse stiffened slightly, feigning innocence as he cracked a thin-lipped smile. “Jesus,” He exhaled, reaching for his lighter. “It’s been awhile.”

There was a prevalent exhaustion that hung within his eyes, a loneliness that almost felt tangible within that moment. He avoided eye contact with you at-times, hands fidgeting when you stepped closer.

“It has.” You paused, rubbing your palms across your arms. Despite the acrid heat that New Mexico produced during the day, the temperatures dropped drastically at night. You shivered, a delicate smile creeping across your features. “Did the party get a little boring for you, too?”

He’d forgotten about you a little bit — forgotten about just how beautiful you were. You’d only gotten prettier, too. Jesse felt the sting of sheepishness and inferiority that came with being around someone like you — a good person, someone with responsibilities and respectable morals. You weren’t a criminal — you hadn’t killed somebody.

Jesse almost felt as if he shouldn’t be speaking to you, but he pressed on. “I guess. Needed some air, you know?” He noticed your constant shivering, prompting him to remove the baggy, black jacket he wore. “You cold?” He asked, gesturing toward the garment he carried.

“Oh,” Warmth crept along your flesh, brows knitting together as you shook your head. “You don’t have to do that, Jesse.” It was a thoughtful gesture, something you didn’t expect, but you were freezing and the dress wasn’t doing you any favors.

“Nah, go ahead. Might smell like cigarettes, though.” Jesse forewarned, tucking one hand underneath his arm. The long-sleeved Henley he wore was more than enough for him.

You thanked him, slipping into his hooded zip-up. He wasn’t exactly incorrect — it did smell of cigarette smoke intermingled with the cologne he wore. You didn’t mind, though.

Silence drifted between the two of you, awkward enough to make you uncomfortable as you fished around for your cellphone. Minutes ticked by without a word. Jesse appeared to be a little nervous, and you wondered if it had anything to do with you.

There was a string of texts from your friends inquiring about your whereabouts. It was a little after ten o’clock, and you fully intended on walking home. “It was nice seeing you, Jesse. I hope you’re doing well.” You cleared your throat. “I’m going to head home.”

Jesse opened his mouth to speak, lips fumbling around the unlit cigarette. Surely, you didn’t want to talk to him — Christ, he was practically a stranger. It felt cruel of him not to offer to give you a ride home, or something like that.

“Hey, uh,” Jesse cleared his throat, clamoring after you. “I can give you a ride home. Could be stalkers or crazy people around.” His reasoning was weak, but it seemed to resonate with you, oddly enough. He felt strange — he barely knew you outside of what he perceived in high school.

You knew that Jesse had gotten in trouble with the law in school — everyone knew. Gossip was prevalent at J.P Wynne. Part of you screamed to refuse, to politely decline and endure the lengthy trek home, but a sliver of you wanted to accept, to indulge in your curiosity.

Jesse had always been kind to you in the very rare, occasional interaction you’d had with him. He hadn’t given you any reason not to trust him. It was a nice change of company — refreshing, almost. There was a clean slate between the two of you.

Your shoulders slouched and sluggishly lifted in a weak shrug as you rubbed your hands together. “You don’t mind? It’s on Nauman Drive, past downtown.” A decent drive, for sure — a half an hour or more. You expected him to reject you given the distance.

“Nauman?” It was a nice area, he knew that much. “Yeah, I don’t mind. You care if I smoke?” Jesse inquired, gesturing around toward the garage. He didn’t care about the house — it almost seemed to fade away into the background. He needed a break, time to think.

“Go ahead.” You trailed after Jesse, following him toward the paved stretch of driveway. A 1984 Toyota Tercel sat, red paint beginning to fade and show signs of weathering. It was beat-up, but certainly held a bit of rugged appeal.

Jesse awkwardly shuffled to open the passenger door, and you thanked him, sinking down into the felt seats. The car smelled of cigarette smoke and cheap air fresheners, but it was tidy and clean inside. You placed your purse down onto the floorboard in front of you.

Blowing a pillar of smoke into the air, Jesse hastily finished his cigarette, fingers beginning to quiver as he opened the driver’s side. He hadn’t really spent time with a girl since Jane — but you didn’t remind him of her whatsoever. There were many qualities you possessed that certainly contrasted from her, not that it was a bad thing.

“Do you live here?” You asked, head canting to one side. There were other cars scattered around the block and parked on the street, but his happened to be the only vehicle in the driveway.

“Uh,” Jesse glanced at you, absentmindedly wetting his lower lip. “Yeah, I do.” He turned the key forward, car rumbling and puffing to life. “Bought the house months ago — used to be my Aunt’s.” He clarified, wondering if you would ask about the obscene amount of drugs.

“You don’t think it’ll burn down while you’re gone?” You questioned, lips twitching into a thin smile as you rolled down the passenger window, letting your elbow rest up against the ledge.

Jesse let out a huff of laughter, and shrugged his shoulders. He began to back up, rolling out onto the empty roads. “It’s been through worse shit.” His wry statement only made your smile flicker again, but he vehemently focused on driving instead.

You felt the barrier melt a bit at that — it was comforting to know that the two of you didn’t have to behave like complete strangers. Silence simmered again, settling between the both of you as he concentrated on finding something on the radio. It served as suitable background noise.

“What are you doing nowadays?” You avoided the topic of the party — it wasn’t worth mentioning. A cool breeze whipped through the car as he began to drive, causing goosebumps to prickle along your shoulders.

“I don’t know,” Jesse confessed, cerulean hues flickering in your direction. “Drifting, I guess.” It was the first time where he’d revealed a sliver of his true feelings. The parties were a worthwhile distraction — soulless events where he could find solace in all of the chaos surrounding him. “Shit, it’s a long story.” His laughter was shaky.

“You don’t have to do a full confession, Jesse.” You reassured, playfully prodding at your cardigan. “I’m not wearing a wire.” With a gentle exhale, your tone softened as he pulled out onto the highway. It was almost soothing — driving back home with somebody you never expected to see again.

Jesse laughed at that, running a hand across his disheveled hair, and then planting it against the back of his neck. The support groups he’d been attending didn’t work — there was no comfort he’d been able to find.

Everything felt like some massive distraction from the root of the problem — the residual pain he was dealing with from Jane, from Gale. His heart hammered within his chest, and he looked at you again. Oddly enough, your nonchalant behavior and lack of judgment would’ve been enough for him to spill in a different setting.

“Hey, what about you? What are you doing these days?” Jesse immediately shifted the focus away from him. He was far more interested in what you had to say than his own life. Besides, it would pull him out of his own head for a little while.

The inquiry was unexpected but not unwelcome, causing you to adjust yourself within the passenger seat. “Oh,” You cleared your throat. “I’m in college at the University of New Mexico. I’m still trying to figure out what I’d like to study — getting basics out of the way. I work at a cafe.”

Normal, uneventful, peaceful — Jesse envied you.

You were achieving something mundane yet safe, something that he wished he would’ve done long ago. Maybe things wouldn’t have happened in the way that they did. His countenance became a touch forlorn, but it wasn’t the time to become mournful over the past. He couldn’t go back, not anymore.

“Yeah, that’s …” He nodded, attempting to conjure the right words to say. “That’s good, really good. You know you could do anything you wanted. You were always really smart and shit.” Jesse replied, gaze hyperfocused upon the road as headlights raced past.

You could detect that Jesse was holding something back — that minuscule flicker of pain had crossed over his visage before being forced to dissipate. Your eyebrows furrowed together, and you reached over, gently prodding at his shoulder.

“Hey,” You began, tone laced with concern. “Are you okay?”

Jesse felt his heart constrict within his chest, wisps of air stolen from his lungs. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked that — and genuinely meant it. It wasn’t out of obligation, that was easy to tell. He felt his throat grow thick, but he staved off any tears.

“Yeah.” It was a blatant lie, spoken through a clenched jaw. He nearly winced when you touched his shoulder, feeling as if he were souring the mood entirely. “Just, uh … You know, going to therapy and rehab right now. It’s been tough.” A very threadbare half-truth, but it was enough to placate you.

“Oh.” A warmth crept into your voice as you withdrew, countenance softening as you sank back into the passenger seat. “That’s understandable, Jesse. I’m sorry.” You replied, tucking strands of hair behind your ear as you looked out the window again.

Albuquerque was a sprawling city, and as the two of you neared the nicer end, Jesse knew that Nauman was only ten minutes away. He didn’t want to go back to the party anymore — but it might’ve been the best option. If he stayed with you, he knew the pain it would cause. He feared losing people — it was present all the time, a nagging dread that never stopped.

“Don’t be sorry,” Jesse interjected, knuckles tightening on the steering wheel. “Did that shit to myself, you know?” Addiction was behind him. He rarely participated anymore — he was just a silent observer, fueling everyone else’s vices while he withered away. What kind of a life was that?

You canted your head to one side, lips parting slightly as you spoke. “Jesse, that’s not entirely your fault. You can’t blame yourself for your environment or circumstances out of your control.” You were right — but he made the choice to shoot Gale, and he made the choice to shoot up with Jane before she died.

He was silent, feeling the sensation of tears swimming within his gaze. Jesse didn’t want to even remotely consider crying in front of you — he barely knew you. Instead, he focused on the road, taking the exit towards Albuquerque Studios. Nauman wasn’t very far away.

You couldn’t recall the last time you’d had a conversation with someone else that was this raw and vulnerable. Jesse’s discomfort was palpable and very real to you, and you felt horrible. Your countenance glistened with concern, brows furrowing together.

After the exit, Jesse drove onto Nauman Drive. There were rows of beautiful, lavish houses and apartment complexes, ones that he probably could’ve bought with the dealing money. He was blowing it all away right now on drugs for the parties — he was beginning to ask himself ‘why?’

“My apartment is at the end of the drive.” Your voice had softened, hands planted within your lap as he followed your directions. It was a smaller apartment complex but much nicer, your driveway occupied by your vehicle.

Jesse pulled up along the curb — it was eerily silent, aside from the cacophony of crickets that provided a steady ambience, and the occasional bark of a dog. He put the car in park, still gripping the steering wheel. “You got a nice place.” He murmured, a halfhearted attempt to shift the conversation to something else.

“Hey,” After unbuckling your seatbelt, you leaned over the center console, palm resting over his hand, the one that was strangling the wheel of the car. “Why don’t you come inside? I can make you coffee or something and you can just space out for a little while. We don’t even have to talk.”

The offer was generous — admittedly, Jesse wondered if it would benefit him in any way. If he could just lay on your couch, decompress, let the emotion off of his chest. He didn’t care about the state of the house — he didn’t care about anybody at that party. What he did care about, however, was you, and how you made him feel.

It was as if the invisibility he’d been safely floating in for so long was shattered, but there was someone who could actually see him — see the veil he’d been maintaining for this whole time. His gaze finally flickered toward you, who appeared genuinely concerned for him.

You were good — truly good.

There wasn’t an ounce of maliciousness or an underlying agenda. You didn’t smoke, you hadn’t touched drugs, you were in college with a steady, normal job that never got you involved with the wrong people. Jesse knew what he’d be putting you through if he let this drag out for too long. If he fucked up, people could hurt you.

“Listen,” Jesse swallowed, palm planted against the back of his neck. “You’re really sweet, okay? You’re nice,” He wanted to word it in a way that wouldn’t hurt your feelings. “I just — I can’t. I’m not in a good spot right now. I don’t wanna drag you down with me.” That sounded fair, didn’t it?

You could accept that.

If it had something to do with the drugs, which you assumed that it was, then you understood that he was trying to protect you. You wanted to encourage him to try, but the last thing you wanted to do was pressure someone in a fragile state.

“Okay, Jesse.” You hesitated, pressing your tongue against the inside of your cheek. “I just want you to know that you're not alone. If you need someone, I’m here for you. I know that there was a wedge in high school, but I don’t see any reason why we couldn’t reconnect.” You shrugged, popping open the passenger side door.

As you stepped outside, you made sure to remove his jacket, draping it over the center console as you shut the door. Jesse didn’t say anything as you rounded the car — he was biting his finger, eyes squeezing shut as you made the short trek toward your front door. It felt like an eternity until you’d actually gotten inside.

Jesse exhaled, hands trembling as he hastily wiped away straggling tears that he’d been withholding during the span of the whole drive. Part of him knew that he could use a positive influence like you in his life, but the danger that lurked around him, the cloud of loss, he was afraid that you’d become lost in all of that, too.

The deliberation between going back to his house and biting the bullet to stay with you was a tedious process. He sat out in the car for a long time — he was surprised that you hadn’t come back outside asking why he was sitting there with his head pressed against the steering wheel.

When he finally made the choice to go up to your door, the walk felt like a lengthy, eternal drag. Jesse rocked forward, pressing his hands against his face as he composed himself. Back in high school, he was suave — much more of a charmer. Nowadays, he felt incompetent, but it was largely due to an amalgamation of nerves and drug use.

He knocked a few times, skin crawling with a nervous sensation, but there was something exciting about it, too. You were familiar yet new, a breath of fresh air that he desperately needed. Jesse watched as the door opened, and there you were.

“Hey, uh,” Jesse stuck his hands into his pockets, rocking back upon his heels. “Is the offer still on the table?” He’d ask, and your lips split into a gentle yet bemused smile.

“Of course.” You’d changed into your pajamas — a baggy, oversized graphic t-shirt and cotton shorts that were dwarfed by your top. “Did you want to watch a movie? I was about to start Watchmen.”

Jesse watched as you stepped aside to invite him in, closing the door behind him and latching the lock. You had a weird itch for security, especially at night. “Yeah, that sounds cool.” He replied, having a look around.

Your apartment was tidy and very cozy, with a rather comforting aesthetic and atmosphere. Jesse felt a little more relaxed, wandering around in the small living room. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the plush sofa, scattered with throw blankets and pillows.

As you prepared coffee, you wondered what changed his mind. It was a question that would likely nag at you until you asked. You understood being lonely — aside from the occasional hangout with your friends, you lived alone.

“Make yourself at home,” You chimed, weaving around the coffee table to place your steaming mugs down, settling into the couch. Jesse sat a comfortable distance away, arm slung over the back of the sofa. “What changed your mind?”

Your question caught him off-guard, but he wanted to be transparent with you. He owed you that much, especially after talking to him — after this, after everything. “I knew that I’d be miserable if I went back,” He shrugged. “I don’t wanna keep being miserable.” Loneliness also played a factor in this, but he didn’t really want to own up to it just yet.

“I understand,” You began, tucking one knee toward your chest as you played the movie. Admittedly, it served as better background noise than anything else. “I’m glad you came over.” Your lips split into a soft smile.

Jesse hesitated, glancing over at you as he stayed silent. He was most definitely drinking you in, gaze subtly raking you over as you took a sip of your coffee. For a moment, he envisioned this — getting close to you, hanging out with you, just getting to be himself, or as close as he could get again.

“I’m glad, too.” Jesse confessed, rubbing at the back of his head. He nearly shriveled at the eye contact you made with him, but he maintained it instead, lips twitching into a faint smile.

You nudged your drink back onto the wooden table, wordlessly slinking closer to Jesse until you were curled up beside him. The silence simmered with something else, perhaps a crackle of affection. Your gaze glistened with a peculiar softness, flickering between the movie and him.

Admittedly, this was the last thing Jesse expected — but that didn’t stop him from wanting it to happen. Once you initiated, he decided to meet you halfway, draping his arm around you, cheek pressed against the top of your head.

He’d been craving something like this for a while now. Jane left a void — a massive, gaping wound that he feared wouldn’t heal, but now? Maybe there was an end in sight — maybe there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Jesse relaxed, sinking into you as you cuddled up with him.

Your hands intertwined, fingers brushing together until they joined. Just like Jesse, you were chasing after the sensation of touch, chasing after that feeling of fulfillment — no more loneliness. You’d been dealing with it for a long while, trying to manage the sea of emotions, and this was a nice break from that.

“I understand feeling miserable,” You murmured, head resting comfortably against his collarbone. “Sometimes it feels like you’re alone out on a raft, in the middle of the ocean.”

Jesse’s jaw tightened, but there was a mutual sense of empathy and understanding within your words. That was how he felt oftentimes — just himself, attempting to stay afloat. He didn’t say anything, but he did caress your knuckles with his thumb as a form of acknowledgment.

As the movie progressed, the two of you occasionally made small talk, but you were a little engrossed by the film, and so was he. It was comforting to just be near him — let him hold you, keep it light with gentle touches and whatnot.

It wasn’t until halfway through the movie that Jesse cleared his throat, glancing down at you with exhausted eyes. “Thanks for this,” He murmured, absentmindedly wetting his lower lip. “Would you wanna do it again? Like, uh … Hanging out, or something?” He was intent on cleaning up his place, now.

“Yeah,” You replied, twisting within his hold enough to peer up at him. “I would.” There was something special about this — perhaps a feeling of renewal, of starting something with someone you never expected. You had a feeling that Jesse needed a little bit of support, and you didn’t mind providing that.

“Shit,” Jesse breathed through a soft laugh, visibly bewildered yet pleased by your answer. “Okay.” He didn’t expect that from you — he didn’t expect anything, really.

The both of you were smiling, now. Watchmen dissipated into the background once more, simply serving as ambience as the two of you nestled together. “Okay.” You parroted, lips curling into a lopsided smile as Jesse gathered his bearings.

You had little time to fully comprehend his next actions — he moved inward, cerulean hues dropping from your face to your mouth. Everything about this screamed sudden and intense, but you didn’t care. He tasted like cigarette smoke and spearmint gum — he had a very sweet kiss.

Jesse inhaled, relaxing into you, careening right into the warmth of your body. Every fiber of his being felt electrified, and he became so incredibly nervous — he hadn’t done this since Jane. He didn’t want her death to tarnish the moment, but it was inevitable.

He pulled away, opening his mouth to speak, yet nothing emerged. Words turned to ash upon his tongue, dying then and there as he hung his head, fingers toying with yours.

It wasn’t difficult to tell that he was struggling with this — you didn’t want to pry, but you didn’t want him to feel obligated, either. “Hey,” You murmured, dragging one hand toward his face, fingertips grazing over his stubbled jaw. “What’s wrong?” It was written all over his countenance, this underlying sense of pain.

“Nothing, just …” Jesse shivered when your palm cupped his jaw, shamelessly leaning into the sensation you left behind from your hand. “I just don’t wanna leave.” It sounded so pathetic — he didn’t want to go back home to a drug-laden pit.

Your lips twitched into a faint smile. “Is that it?” You left it open-ended, attempting to stay on the side of not being invasive or pushy. You wanted him to be comfortable.

Jesse huffed, idly tracing the pad of his thumb across the delicate plane of your knuckles. “Nah,” He admitted, cerulean hues flickering toward your face. “Haven’t really done this in awhile.” Telling you the visceral, painful truth would’ve been too much for him, so he settled on something else, something superficial.

“What, kissing?” You teased, keeping it mellow and lighthearted before he shook his head. “If it’s any reassurance, I haven’t done anything, either. Don’t feel like it’s just you.” With a soft sigh, you watched as Jesse leaned back just an inch or two, head craned to rest against your couch.

There was something forlorn about him, a light aura of melancholy that swirled around his being. You didn’t want to ask, but you couldn’t help but wonder what happened. You were able to look past that — he was attractive. You’d always thought that he was handsome.

“You, uh … You mind if we do it again?” Jesse asked, head cocked to one side. He was some amalgamation of sheepishness and a suave charm, smile somewhat feeble as he held your hand.

“I don’t mind.” You replied, but before he could lean in again, you had something on your mind. “Jesse?”

Jesse stooped closer, forehead nearly pressed against yours. “Yeah?”

“Would it help if you stayed tonight?” Whatever was plaguing him, being alone around drugs was the last thing he needed. You didn’t mind him staying the night — you didn’t mind whatever came with that, too.

He remained silent for a few moments, and immediately felt as if he should say no — and against his own inner turmoil, he wanted to be with you. He didn’t care if the house was a mess or if it had been reduced to nothing — he’d rather stay here with you.

“I don’t wanna disturb the peace,” Jesse began, nose wrinkling slightly when you rolled your eyes. “I can crash on the couch.” Admittedly, that sliver of him that was desperate for affection also wanted to sleep with you, but it was only polite to keep his distance until you said otherwise.

“You’re not disturbing anything. Promise.” You reassured, fingers creeping toward the nape of his neck as you tilted forward. “I want you to stay.” You uttered, your own desire for fulfillment and company mirrored his own want to not be alone.

Part of him really wished you hadn’t said that — but once the gate was open, Jesse couldn’t stop himself, and neither could you. His gaze fell to your lips, thumb briefly caressing your jaw until the two of you were colliding into one another.

Jesse kissed you again, compassionate and borderline needy, hand dropping to grasp at the curve of your hip. His free hand still remained tangled with yours, eyes fluttering shut as you shuffled forward, partially planted within his lap. It was enough to make him forget about the downward spiral he was on, and it was as if the plummeting had ceased — for now.

You didn’t know where this would lead, but that was the exhilarating part about it. The uncertainty and the newfound territory that was Jesse Pinkman elated you. Maybe this was what you needed; he was what you needed — you needed a fresh start.

“Hey, uh,” Jesse whispered against your mouth, fingers teasing the hem of your baggy shirt, grazing over your thigh. “Where we going with this?” It was spoken with compassion and concern, out of total thoughtfulness for you. Maybe you didn’t want to sleep with a junkie — he couldn’t blame you.

“I think I know where I’d like to go,” You confessed, head canting to one side. “Where do you want to go?” You asked, idly trailing your digits through his hair. You noticed the subtle bobbing of his Adam’s apple, accompanied by a peculiar sheen within his eyes.

If it was something serious that you were after, Jesse was unsure if he even had that capability. After Jane, it almost seemed to shatter — fall apart. Maybe it didn’t have to be that way forever. Perhaps, there was a light at the end of the tunnel for the two of you.

Instead of recoiling, Jesse held you closer, wordlessly ushering you into his lap, palm splayed out underneath your shirt, resting soundly at the curve of your hip. “I just,” He hesitated, completely enamored by you — you were beautiful. “I don’t know if I can be what you need right now.” He admitted.

You respected him all the more for his candor, hands coming to rest at the nape of his neck. You decided to kiss him, slow and steady, tilting to one side for something deeper. When you withdrew, your lips twitched into a smile. “I’m patient.” With that conclusion alone, Jesse relaxed.

He felt a bit of pressure relinquish itself from him, like a weight being removed from his chest. Jesse was worried that you’d want something serious, something strict off the bat. He didn’t intend on sleeping around, but he was afraid of disappointing you more than anything.

Given the implication of your interactions, Jesse had something on his mind — he figured that the feeling was mutual.

Jesse remained quiet for a moment, pressing a sweet kiss against your jaw, and then another to your neck. “Where’s your room?” He murmured, nearly shuddering in delight when you absentmindedly tugged on his hair.

“Come on.” Reluctantly, you removed yourself from his lap, taking ahold of his hand as you led him down the short corridor towards your bedroom. It was, as Jesse expected, lavishly-decorated and aesthetically pleasing. It far outweighed the dump he was living in.

“Cute.” Jesse couldn’t help but comment, lips twitching into a smile as he observed your choice of style and the many pillows piled up on top of your mattress. Admittedly, it all felt so cozy and welcoming — it even smelled good.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you watched as Jesse nudged the door closed. The both of you were swallowed by the lower, dim lighting of your bedroom, slivers of orange encompassing your scantily-clad frame.

He pressed closer, hands roaming across your body, one palm gently slipping underneath the hem of your shirt to brazenly grab at your ass. Locked in another heated kiss, your hands moved to push his jacket away, draping across his shoulders.

The sensation of your fingers roaming through his hair was enough to make his knees weak, a low groan resonating within his throat. You tasted sweet, like the twang of strawberry chapstick and the citrus seltzer you’d been drinking at the party. Jesse kissed you again, greedily this time, one hand cupping the curve of your hip.

As the two of you fell onto your bed in a feverish heap of limbs and mouths, you withdrew for a moment, getting yourself adjusted. You prepared to remove your shirt until you saw Jesse laying there, eyes half-lidded. Exhaustion was scrawled into his face, as if it were a permanent feature.

“Are you tired?” You asked, more concerned about his state of wellbeing. You were getting hot and bothered, but your own desire could be put on hold for a little while.

Jesse appeared embarrassed, but with the bags underneath his eyes and the perpetual state of tiredness that hung around him, he couldn’t lie to you. “Yeah,” He chewed at the inside of his cheek. “Shit, this feels pathetic. I’m practically blue-balling myself.” He mused, and it made you giggle.

“It’s not pathetic, Jesse.” You reassured, opting to climb into bed and make yourself comfortable. Jesse kicked off his shoes, following suit until he was resting at your side, arms tangled around you. “You look like you’re seconds away from crashing. I think we can put sex aside for now.”

Begrudgingly, he felt you cuddle against him, head near his collarbone as he made himself comfortable with you. His erection happened to push into your rump throughout, but before you could make a playful comment about it, his breathing had steadied.

“Jesse?” You whispered, receiving no response. He was most definitely asleep, and you confirmed this by simply rolling over. His expression was cast into one of bliss, still clutching onto you even through slumber. You sank back down with a smile, and decided to sleep, too.

—

Slivers of dawn’s first light trickled through the gossamer curtains — faint enough not to draw any attention, but enough to signal to Jesse that it was early in the morning. He’d stayed the night, and even then, it didn’t seem real.

You were asleep at his side, still nestled against him, but beginning to stir. Jesse couldn’t tell if it was because you were really waking up, or because his hard-on was protruding into you. He remembered last night — kissing you before he’d fallen asleep.

It wasn’t one of his smoothest moments — not by a long shot.

“Hey,” As the haze of grogginess began to lift, you were elated to find Jesse — still in your bed, and still next to you. Even being disheveled from sleep, Jesse found you to be astoundingly gorgeous. There was perfection to you that he wanted to drown himself inside of. “You’re here.” You smiled.

“Did you think I ditched or something?” He asked, arm draped around you as you shook off the feeling of slumber. Admittedly, part of you thought he’d wake up and leave, but he proved you wrong.

“A little bit,” You confessed, feeling his hand trace idle patterns into the dip of your waist. You wriggled closer, pressing a soft kiss against his stubbled jaw. “But I’m glad you didn’t.” It was complete and utter bliss, waking up with him — it was the last thing you expected, but you could get used to it.

Jesse huffed, hand dragging from your waist to your face, palm cupping your cheek as he caressed your jaw with his thumb. “Nah,” He smiled this time, cerulean eyes boring into you, becoming lost in the mere presence of you. “Didn’t even cross my mind, if I’m being honest.”

You smiled, eyelashes fluttering in rapid succession before you planted a sloppy, slower kiss against his lips. “What crossed your mind instead?” You asked, careening into the sensation of his palm cradling your face.

Jesse felt much better, no longer plagued by the desire for sleep. Instead, there was something else he wanted — he wanted to pick up from last night. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours, hand skimming toward your thigh.

“Lots of stuff,” He began, coaxing you against him as he answered your question in between a series of heated, needy kisses. “All about you.” Jesse confessed, peering at you through his lashes before his hand gently grabbed at your ass.

“Yeah? Do you wanna show me?” You asked, becoming a bit breathless whenever he kissed you. It was accompanied by plenty of groping, ensuring that you were flush against him as the tension rose to a boiling point between the two of you.

You weren’t about to recoil, reciprocating his kiss with a passionate one of your own, stomach churning with anticipation. Your hand moved toward the nape of his neck, fingers lightly grabbing at his hair. Each kiss was sweet yet sloppy, and you could feel Jesse’s hand underneath your shirt.

“Yeah, I do. Do you wanna do this?” Jesse murmured, ensuring that he wasn’t jumping the gun. You could’ve changed your mind from last night — that was certainly a possibility, and he’d be just fine with it. He was partially on top of you, but he leaned back enough to gauge your answer.

“Absolutely.” You smiled, sitting up enough to get your shirt off, which Jesse kindly assisted with. The both of you sank into a rather peaceful moment, blissfully quiet as he wriggled out of his shirt.

Jesse leaned forward again, capturing your mouth in a passionate, heated kiss, his hands finding the smooth curve of your hips. “You’re so pretty.” He exhaled, feeling that little pang of nervousness. He hadn’t touched a girl since Jane, but he wasn’t about to let himself be thrust into the past, not now.

Heat saturated your skin, crawling all over you like a fever. In the wake of Jesse’s compliment, you felt sheer elation, feeling his lips roam from your mouth to your jaw. His hands were everywhere, inevitably finding their purchase against your thighs. He peppered a string of kisses from your jaw to your neck, though his kisses soon turned to suckling.

“Jesse.” You moaned, haplessly grasping onto his shoulders as he left a series of hickeys on your neck. You felt his digits curl around the waistband of your panties, but he made no motion to remove them just yet.

Your moan was enough to make him shiver in delight, gaze following the path of your hand as you hastily unclasped your bra. You had such a beautiful body — Jesse felt some semblance of awe, snug against you as you got comfortable atop the comforter.

Continuing his previous route, Jesse’s mouth kissed down your neck and collarbone, stopping above your breasts. Even your smell was intoxicating — everything about you reeled him in. “Jesus,” He mumbled against your sternum. “You’re beautiful.” It was an endless string of softspoken praises that escaped him.

He was scrawny, with a lanky musculature — you found it attractive in the best of ways. Your gaze occasionally fell across his many tattoos, committing every detail to memory. Your fingers continued to tug and pull at his hair, body jolting into him when his mouth wrapped around your nipple.

A low groan resonated from his throat, rippling across his chest when you continued to toy with his hair. His hand traced down the plane of your stomach, slipping underneath the elastic trim of your panties. You nearly buckled, writhing underneath him when his digits slipped against your cunt.

You felt his mouth suck and kiss at your breast, in-tandem with the teasing ministrations of his fingers. It was feather-light, enough to drive you to the brink of frustration. “You wet already, angel?” It was almost an incredulous statement instead of a question.

Fuck — the nickname was enough to send shockwaves pulsating through your body. Your skin became awash with warmth, lips falling apart as you peered down, enough to catch a glimpse of those half-lidded, cerulean eyes and the adoring tilt of his lips. Goosebumps snaked across your spine, back arching off of the bed.

Jesse wasn’t dumb — he knew that your reaction was from the nickname. He pressed his tongue against his cheek, pressing a string of kisses from your breast to stomach, tattooed hand curling into your panties as he inched them past your thighs.

“Say it again,” It was a command that fell from your mouth, and not a plea. Your fingers happened to tense within his hair, enough to make his jeans become uncomfortably tight. “Please.” With a breathy exhale, you felt Jesse’s lips trace across the curve of your hip.

He felt his heart hammer with erratic excitement, tongue absentmindedly flicking out to trace across his lower lip. Christ, you looked so perfect like this — Jesse watched you, breathing intensifying as you spread your legs just a little bit. He often walked the line between nervousness and confidence, feeling a sense of boldness swell within him.

His breath fanned across the inside of your thigh, lips ghosting over the soft skin there. Jesse’s gaze remained fixated upon you, glistening with a sheen of lust as he finally began to kiss his way to the throbbing between your legs. “Where do you want me, angel?” Jesse murmured, assuming that he knew the answer.

You couldn’t recall the last time you’d felt this way — floating, so unbelievably slick and warm that you felt feverish. Jesse brought out a new level of neediness and desperation that you never thought possible. “Jesse,” You moaned, squirming haplessly as you urged him closer. “Please, please.”

Jesse swallowed, wordlessly following the motion of your hand as he lapped at your cunt, tongue dragging along the length of your slit. You were whimpering, one hand grappling at his freckled shoulder. He was so turned on from the noises you made, enough for him to grind his hips into the mattress.

You sputtered a very pitiful apology when your hips bucked forward, but you were met with a barrage of needy licks and a faint moan. Slivers of morning light pooled through the curtains, falling across Jesse as he buried his face between your thighs. His weeks-old stubble rubbed against the sensitive flesh of your legs.

Nimble digits skimmed forward, one palm splayed against your pelvis as the other gripped down on your thigh. You wanted to sob from how good it felt — he was talented with his mouth, that much was for sure. His tongue flicked over your clit, gestures rhythmic and steady.

A knot formed within your stomach, a coil that continued to tighten, threatening to burst if Jesse kept it up. It all felt like some foreign fever dream, but you much preferred the current reality — Jesse Pinkman, eating you out until you cried. You felt his hand brush against yours, a gesture that was startlingly tender.

One hand untangled itself from his hair, deciding to give him a break, going to hold his hand instead, fingers lacing together. You felt his lips begin to purse around your clit, simultaneously eliciting another noisy, elated moan from your lips.

Your chest heaved with a myriad of throaty, high-pitched whimpers as he sucked on your clit, stars rippling past your vision. No one had ever gone down on you with such reverence and passion before, but now that you’d gotten a taste, you wanted more.

Jesse hadn’t realized it, but somewhere in the thick of hooking up with you, he was feeling like himself again. It almost felt as if he’d been transported back to a time before he’d met Walter White, to a time where he was slinging crystal and simply enjoying life. Each moan, every little mewl and keen that escaped you was akin to music.

“Jesse,” You panted, breathing somewhat ragged as he lapped at your clit. That coil began to unfurl, blistering heat coursing through you, a white-hot rush of sheer ecstasy that caused you to moan and cry out. “Jesse!” You felt him squeeze your hand, a silent reassurance to let go.

Unbothered by the mess, Jesse groaned, feeding off of your orgasm as he lapped at your cunt, ministrations lacking the vigor from before. Your stomach felt like mush, but you wanted him to fuck you senseless — you almost felt embarrassed for how wound-up you’d become.

He was quiet, kissing your thighs as he began to sit back up, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand. Jesse ogled you, head cocking to one side before he spoke. “You are so beautiful.” It wasn’t something spoken lightly during sex — you felt it seep right into your bones, genuine as ever.

“So are you.” You replied, and you watched his throat bob as he swallowed. Jesse crawled up, and in a flurry of unrestrained passion, he kissed your mouth. You could taste yourself, taste him — it was enough to make your cunt throb again, still dealing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Could you, uh …” Jesse mumbled, erection pulsing and rubbing right into the pliant flesh of your thigh. “I want you on top.” He was used to climbing on top of girls and going to town until he ran out of stamina, but he had different reasons this time. “I wanna see you.”

Your heart fluttered within your chest, and you nodded, watching as he rolled over, making himself comfortable atop the mound of pillows lining your bed. There was something eerily intimate in the way that he spoke — maybe it was just you. It was soft and sweet, enough to make you shudder as you straddled his hips.

Reaching for his belt, you unfastened it, moving enough for him to kick his pants off. His hands moved toward your thighs, fingers caressing across your flesh as the both of you worked to remove the final article of clothing. He was quiet this time, staring up at you with a searing, intense look — it was almost adoring.

He was unbearably hard, hips writhing slightly, desperate to be inside of you. Jesse nearly melted at the sensation of your hand wrapping around his cock, giving it a few, sluggish strokes, thumb swiping across the head before you lifted yourself up just enough.

Jesse groaned in tandem with you as you sank down onto his length, digits tensing into your thighs as you adjusted yourself, lips falling apart. You reached for his hands, fingers twining together. Goosebumps erupted across his body, chest fluttering with an unshakable warmth.

“Jesus.” Jesse breathed, watching as you stooped down to press your mouth against his, open-mouthed and sloppy. His tongue traced across your lower lip, and you responded by rolling your hips forward. He exhaled, reciprocating with another heated, messy kiss.

He released one of your hands, enough to grip onto your hip, guiding you into a steady rhythm. Your pace was somewhat sporadic and erratic at first, slipping into a natural flow once he held onto you. Jesse groans, unable to keep from staring at you as if you were perfection incarnate.

You whimper, using your knees to rock yourself up and back down, sinking onto his cock until he’s bottomed out. The intermingling of your moans fill your bedroom, accompanied by the faint squeak and creak of your bed frame. “Jesse.” You mewl, feeling his lips smack against your collarbone.

What started as something slow and sluggish had gained traction, your pace increasing slightly. A crackling, familiar heat raced across your body, making your stomach churn with anticipation, simultaneously pooling with warmth.

A soft moan tore past his lips, skin flushing with a rosy shade as you careened forward, one palm splaying out across his chest. “Shit,” Jesse’s voice emerged again as an excitable pant, squeezing your hand as you continued to piston yourself up and down. “You feel so good, baby.” Any little nickname was enough to make you preen.

Heat rippled through you, continuing to consume your body in waves. He sat up, enough to be within reach of you as he pressed a messy, sultry kiss against your collarbone, clamoring for your mouth as you tilted your head downward.

Your hand snaked from his chest to the nape of his neck, gripping his hair once. Your motions became somewhat uneven and less rhythmic as you rocked yourself on his cock, mewling and whimpering, noises intertwining with his strenuous groans. His palm grabbed at the curve between your thigh and ass, gripping you tight as you rode him.

“M’close,” You huffed, prying your lips away from his, only for you to press a trail of haphazard kisses against his stubbled jaw. “Jesse.” Another whine escaped you, followed by a cacophony of lewd noises. Your thighs felt a strain and burn from pistoning yourself onto his cock so many times, heat pooling between your legs.

Jesse was right there with you, though he wasn’t entirely sure where you wanted him to unload, to put it mildly. “Where do you want me?” He asked again, mirroring his inquiry from earlier. You slowed somewhat at that question, but he shook his head. “Keep going.” Despite the sting of borderline overstimulation, he didn’t want you to stop.

Both of his hands redirected themselves to your hips, guiding you along, letting you grind yourself forward, rolling your hips up and back onto his length. He groaned again, forehead pressed against yours, skin feeling as if it were set ablaze. The hold you had on him already was rather ironclad.

He kissed you again, unusually intimate and full of desire, digits groping and kneading into your curves. Your skin felt velvety underneath his fingertips, and your scent invaded his senses, overwhelming him in the best way possible. His cock was throbbing, swallowed by your tight cunt as you whimpered his name.

“Not inside.” You cautioned, breathlessly clashing with him again — all tongue, teeth and want as Jesse nudged you back. With your newfound position, legs locked around his lanky musculature as he rutted into you, you felt like you were seeing stars. “Holy shit, Jesse!” You moaned.

Jesse wasn’t grotesquely well-endowed, but he knew exactly how to utilize what he had. He felt like he’d broken the barrier right then and there, bottomed out inside of you before he pulled out, cumming onto your stomach. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen as thin ropes of slick seed fell across your abdomen.

His chest heaved with recuperative breaths, perspiration glistening along his brow as he hovered over you. The two of you sighed in-tandem, both coming down from a blissful high. Those pretty, cerulean eyes of his consumed you over and over again, fluttering in rapid succession before he lowered himself to kiss you.

It was slow — too slow, almost, but Jesse savored you, instead. Your nails ghosted across his forearm, tracing around the intricate pattern of his tattoo before skimming toward his shoulders. You reciprocated the kiss with a familiar sweetness, unhooking one leg from his waist.

“Sorry,” Jesse mumbled, gesturing toward the sticky mess that was splattered all over your stomach. “You look so pretty like that.” His tone lowered, taking on some delicious pitch that itched a certain part of you, sending goosebumps trailing across your spine.

Before you could respond, Jesse slipped off of you, tugging on his boxers as he wandered toward your bathroom to grab a towel. It was the first one he could get his hands on, returning to you with a rather adoring look in his eyes.

As you cleaned yourself up, making sure to discard the towel into your laundry basket, Jesse reappeared with a glass of water. It was quite endearing, watching the way he took care of you afterwards without being asked to. He sat next to you, watching as you pulled your panties back on and your t-shirt.

“That was really nice.” Admittedly, you needed it — but it felt better than before, all due to Jesse. You curled up next to him, head resting against his collarbone as his palm moved to cradle your face.

“Yeah, it was.” Jesse murmured, wishing that he could stay with you. He needed to get back home — the house was likely ruined. He’d also briefly glanced at his phone and noticed four missed calls from Mr. White’s number. “I wanna do it again.”

You giggled, nose wrinkling in amusement. “Hanging out together or having sex?” You asked, and he scoffed, lips twitching in a brief flash of a smile. “You can be honest, Jesse. I can handle it.”

“Both,” He confessed, savoring the feeling of your hand delicately tracing over the tattoo on his collarbone. “What if I took you out somewhere, yeah? Like on a date.” Jesse couldn’t believe that he’d asked you, but it was out in the open, now — no going back.

“Okay.” You mused, gaze flickering toward his lips. You would never get tired of kissing him — the taste of spearmint and cigarettes had become borderline addictive. “You can take me out.” With that, you leaned forward, pressing your mouth against his.

Jesse exhaled, reciprocating your kiss with one of his own. He squeezed his eyes shut, pad of his thumb caressing over your jawline. “Shit,” He sighed, a forlorn look within his eyes. “I gotta get going. I don’t want to.” He didn’t want to leave, but he had a feeling he’d be seeing you again soon. His phone vibrated again.

You yearned for the contact when he’d rolled out of your bed, getting himself dressed again. Once he found his jacket and keys, you decided to walk him to the door, standing with him in the cool morning breeze. Sunlight glittered down, bathing the both of you in picturesque lighting.

“Jesse,” You murmured, hand poised along the doorframe. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” You asked, watching him linger around on the front step as he glanced toward his car. After everything that happened, from last night to now, you were a little worried. He wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind — that much you knew.

Jesse hesitated — he didn’t have a viable answer to that. His house was a drug-laden pit, he was beginning to spiral, but you’d kicked him back onto a different path. It was an unpredictable road ahead. Even he had no idea how he’d feel by the end of the day, but one thing was for certain — he’d be okay for you.

He swallowed, and then nodded twice. “Yeah, I think so.” His chest tightened with a flurry of emotions, ones he hadn’t felt since Jane was around. Jesse was absolutely enthralled by you — and he wondered if that would lead to your doom.

With that, you nodded, beginning to turn around. Before you could, you felt a hand curling around your wrist, as if guiding you elsewhere.

“Hey,” Jesse muttered, reeling you back in for a gentle kiss. “I’ll see you later.” It was a promise to himself, more than it was to you. He was reluctant to pull away, but the buzzing in his pocket became rather urgent.

The kiss caught you off-guard, stealing every wisp of air right out of your lungs, warmth creeping across your skin until it burned something hot within your cheeks. You opened your mouth, unable to keep from smiling.

“See you later, Jesse.”

You really hoped that you would.

#jesse pinkman x reader #jesse pinkman x you #breaking bad #jesse pinkman fanfiction #jesse pinkman #breaking bad fanfiction #breaking bad fanfic #better call saul #female reader #aaron paul #sunkendreams masterlist

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madlittlecriminal · 4 months

Text

[02] Secret Ingredient⥓ Mafia!Miguel O'Hara × Female!Baker!Reader

y'all, im sorry. i was sick. im back now though, so hope you guys enjoy!

Warnings: mention of losing sleep, mentions of dana, mention of brothels, mentions of exotic dancer clubs

series masterlist | miguel o'hara masterlist

Miguel lost sleep that week.

The fact that you were the owner of the bakery he had his eye on was upsetting. Even though he still had to get to know you, he wasn't sure if he could if there was a possibility of falling in love with you and he wasn't sure if he was ready to risk it. Obviously, there were other reasons why his relationship with Dana ended. It was true that he didn't want her to have control over his club, but it stemmed from more than just business partnership.

Dana wanted to be the owner because she wanted to change things and he didn't want that. She wanted to make it into a brothel, but he didn't want that. Not only did he already have exotic dancers at their own clubs that catered to all genders since he preferred being inclusive, but he also hated thinking of how some men are gross and just disrespectful. In his clubs, he had strict rules, and he knew Dana wouldn't have enforced those rules; he didn't want it to come bite him in the ass.

This was different though.

You were different.

He felt weird, going to the club earlier just to get the chance to see you.

He hasn't stepped foot in your bakery since he met you. Lyla and Jess have been on his ass about meeting you again. They couldn't understand why their boss was being weird about a woman, but Peter did.

Miguel had a conversation with Peter which helped him out a little, but he wouldn't admit it to his face; he had to push his shy boy out the way in order to talk to you, but he didn't know how.

So, he decided to pay you a visit on his day off at Alchemax.

You were dealing with a girl who was currently doing cake testing for her quince (sweet 15) which made him smile softly when you gave her a piece of Neapolitan cake since she couldn't decide between chocolate, vanilla and strawberry.

"This is the alternative if you don't want to do separate layers of cake." You say, making Miguel's body tingle with heat as red painted his cheeks.

He quickly concluded that he could listen to you talk for hours.

"It's amazing!" The fourteen-year-old jumped a little after swallowing the piece of cake, making you smile.

"I'm glad you like it." You look up and give Miguel a grin, making his legs shake slightly.

"We'll take this one." Her father said with a grin while ruffling his daughter's hair and pulling out his wallet.

"Great! When do you need it by?" You ask, tilting your head to the side as you look between the mother, the father and the daughter.

"About four months from now. It's the last thing we need."

You nod, giving them the price of the deposit and taking the list of cake ideas from the girl before bidding goodbye.

When they left, your eyes met Miguel's again, making his heart race.

"How can I help you?" You scan him quickly, taking note of his leather jacket, the white shirt that peaked from underneath it along with his black jeans and the same ruby colored sunglasses from your first encounter.

He gives you a shy smile before looking at the desserts, biting the inside of this cheek. "Surprise me."

You raise a brow. "Are you sure about that?"

He nods.

"You hardly know me and you're trusting me to surprise you with a dessert?"

He nods again.

"What if I poison you?" You joke.

"Querida, if you wanted to poison me, you would've done it when we first met." He states. (Darling/Dear)

You blink up at him before opening your mouth to say something, closing it and repeating the process once more before turning your back and grabbing gloves, a wax tissue sheet along with a paper bag and making your way to the kitchen.

His face goes red with embarrassment as he looks at the ground. He makes his foot graze your tiles like a child embarrassed or shy to ask a question. However, he noticed one of your tiles were cracked and another that was actually missing.

"Ah, don't mind the floor. It happened two days ago." You rest the bag on the counter that contained a few pieces of tamriyeh that you just finished preparing.

"How?" He asks, tilting his head to the side.

"A woman stomped her bulky heels on the cracked one and she kicked the other when she saw it was loose." You explain with a shrug before giving him the total.

He raises a brow before giving you $10. "Why did she do that?"

You snicker. "She was annoyed I got her order wrong, telling me I was a fake baker because my treats weren't as good as her mother in law's desserts, but I never advertised them to be better."

He rolls his eyes at the ignorance of the woman and takes the bag. "Thank you. Keep the change and don't worry about the receipt."

You sigh. "Are you ever going to ask for the change or the receipt?"

"Probably not. Have a good day and stay safe." He walks out, leaving you stunned.

"When I catch you, Ruby..." You say softly as you watch his tall figure walk away with a glare before taking the receipt and putting it away and putting the cash in the register.

———

tags:

@deputy-videogamer @barbiecrocs @deepinballs @faimmm @wakeupr41 @bubblegumfanfics @smartyren @kimmis-stuff @latenightcravingz @youcantseem3 @corpsebridenightamare @thedevax @cicithemess @diannana

*if you do not get the notification, i put the link of your blogs because it wasn't allowing me to tag you.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #marvel #mcu #marvel universe #reader insert #miguel spiderverse #spider man 2099 #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #x reader

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wongyuseokie · 1 year

Text

Setting the Mood | c.s.c

Summary: After a gruelling day, you want to make your boyfriend feel better and care for him. You think you’re in charge, but that lasts only a little bit.

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ♕ smut | ♥ completed works Word Count: 1901 Words Pairings: Seungcheol x Female Reader Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: Smut & fluff Content Warnings: Smut, fluff, mentions of a bathtub and candles and flowers and blindfolds. Smut Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (don’t do this), pussy eating, swallowing, multiple orgasms, hand job in a bathtub. Swallowing, daddy kink, because it’s Seungcheol, duh, but very soft (mostly)daddy. Dirty talk and blindfolds, overuse of the nickname princess, baby, pretty girl and kitten. Muscle kink? Idk, man. Cheol is so fucking huge I want to cry. Facesitting. Cheol begs, squirting.

Authors Note: Listen, this man knows how to rile me up, and so here I am. Thank you so so much to @the-boy-meets-evil for beta'ing this. I love you so much Jess 💕 Also, as always thank you to @here4btsfics for reading this too and letting me know your thoughts! Also to @seungkwansphd I hope this helps the Cheol rot or contributes to it hehehe. Tagging: @duhnova because ily and maybe I like being yelled at. Banner Credits: @classicscreations Cross Posted on AO3 © wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved.

“Baby?” Seungcheol called out once he got home. After a gruelling day of dance practice, he wanted to hop into the shower and then crawl into bed with you in his arms.

“Hi, handsome,” you greeted, emerging from the bedroom and moving closer to him. His arms opened for you to settle in and hug him.

“You tired?” You asked Seungcheol nodded slowly, and you smiled against his chest.

“Follow me, handsome,” you said, letting go of his embrace, taking his hand in yours, and guiding him to the bedroom.

“What are you doing?” Seungcheol asked. You felt awful at the tone of his voice. He was so tired, and you knew he wanted nothing more than a quick shower and sleep, But you also knew your plan would make him so tired and feel so good that he’d sleep like a baby the entire night.

“Helping you. You do so much work, and, for once, I want to make my daddy feel good,” you said softly, guiding Seungcheol into the bathroom. Seungcheol smiled softly at you and turned that smile into delight the minute he took in the bathroom.

You lit vanilla and peony-scented candles around the bathtub, the tub overflowing with bubbles, and soft jazz music played in the background.

“Baby, I’m tired, I appreciate this, but I don’t think I have it in me to do a lot,” Seungcheol started to say.

“Daddy, tonight is about you. Let me do the work, please. I want to make you feel good,” you said softly, your hands moving to the hem of his shirt and pulling it off his toned body.

“They need to close the gyms. You’re so fucking big now, Cheolie,” you whispered, tracing your hands over him, gently grazing your nails down his well-defined pecs, slightly brushing over his nipples, and then resting your hands on his now rock-solid abs.

“But are you complaining, princess? I know you like it when I pick you up and fuck you against the wall,” Seungcheol teased, making you smile shyly.

“No, I don’t,” you said, smirking, your hands moving down to his grey sweats.

“These, however, are illegal, you’re killing me, and I’m sure your fans are writhing watching you in this fit,” you mused, making Seungcheol smirk,

“But only you can see it. Only you can touch,,” Seungcheol whispered low, making your core clench. “Only you can suck, can fuck…”

“No underwear?” You asked. You wondered when your hands went underneath his sweats and rubbed the tip of his cock, which was starting to harden, instead of another layer of material. Seungcheol shrugged in response.

“Again, are you complaining?” Seungcheol responded cockily.

“No, I’m not,” you responded, smiling, kneeling and pulling down his sweats. Seungcheol stepped out of the sweats and kicked them across the bathroom floor.

“Where do you want me, princess?” Seungcheol asked. You stood up and pointed to the bathtub. Seungcheol nodded, sighing softly in relief as the warm water immediately soothed his sore muscles,

“Fuck, this bath feels amazing,” Seungcheol moaned.

“Princess, can you join me?” He was looking at you with all the love possible in his eyes, and you immediately melted, nodding. You pulled your robe off, and Seungcheol groaned.

“Fuck, you were naked underneath that stupid silk this all this time?”

You just grinned in response. Seungcheol held out his hand, and you took it once you approached the tub to step into it. You climbed into his lap, and Seungcheol smiled, his hands encircling your waist, pulling you closer to his taut body.

“Daddy, this is about you, not me,” you pouted, making Seungcheol smirk.

“Okay, kitten, make me feel good,” Seungcheol said, laying back against the tub.

You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his plush ones. You melted into the kiss. Kissing Seungcheol was almost addictive. You couldn’t get over how soft his lips were, how plump they were, and how you would always end up seeing fireworks no matter where his lips were on your body. Seungcheol moaned into the kiss the minute your hand grazed his now fully erect cock. The moan allowed you to slip your tongue into his mouth and deepen the kiss.

You kept kissing Seungcheol, the one hand on his chest casually brushing over his nipples, which made him shudder and buck his length against your core.

“Baby,” Seungcheol pulled away from your lips to catch his breath and admire you. You moved your lips down to his neck, carefully pressing enough pressure to elicit a moan from him, but not so strong that it would leave a mark.

“Do you like it?” You asked Seungcheol, who lazily nodded, smiling at you, lust overtaking his handsome features. “Touch me, please,” Seungcheol begged, and it shot straight to your cunt, making you smirk. It gave you all sorts of ideas about making this man, usually in control, beg. He must have read your mind because he quickly added a warning. “Let’s get this straight. This is the only time I’ll beg, pretty girl.”

“Well, now you at least know how I feel,” you teased after a roll of your eyes.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol breathed out when your hand wrapped around his thick cock. You didn’t move your hand, though, like you knew he wanted. You just wrapped it around the tip and ran your finger along his slit, the water allowing you to do that very quickly.

“I love you,” you said as you moved your other hand under the water to cup and massage his balls, making him tighten his grip on the porcelain tub.

“I fucking love you, and I’m not just saying this because you’re making me feel so fucking good, princess,” Seungcheol said, breathing heavily, and whined when you pulled your hands off his cock.

“Baby!” Seungcheol whined, making you laugh.

“Now you know how it feels, but I won’t torture you since I’m nice. Can you get out of the tub?” You asked, and Seungcheol nodded immediately.

You held Seungcheol’s hand, guiding him out of the tub and back to the bedroom.

You gently nudged him making him fall back on the bed, and crawled up, so your body was straddling his. You reached over to grab the silk blindfolds on the bedside table and gently placed them over your boyfriend’s eyes, which was almost torture for you because his eyes were so piercing. Still, you knew if you wanted to regain control over him, he couldn’t be staring at you, undoing you with a single look.

“Fuck, Cheol!” You gasped when Seungcheol’s hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you up to his mouth. You hissed in pleasure the minute his plush lips wrapped around your clit, and you hated how well he knew your body that he didn’t even need to see anything to make you fall apart.

“Cheolie, baby,” you mewled as he flicked your clit with his tongue. For the perfect contrast, his mouth enclosed your clit and sucked. You pulled the blindfold off his eyes because you loved watching him, especially sitting on his face. You loved seeing those eyes of his watch you fall apart at his mercy.

You sighed in pleasure one more time before reluctantly pulling your pussy off his mouth. You moved down his body, capturing his lips with yours in a soft kiss sighing softly when you tasted yourself.

“Can I ride you, baby?” You asked, and Seungcheol nodded, making you smile. You slowly moved down his body until you straddled his thick thighs. Lifting your hips, you aligned his thick cock against your entrance and hissed as you sank into his length.

“Princess, this is better when I prep you and get your pretty little pussy soaking fucking wet before I fuck you senseless,” Seungcheol said, smirking, earning a glare from you.

“This is about you,” you said, pouting and Seungcheol softened, nodding. “Then take me, princess,” Seungcheol said, lying down, sighing the minute you lifted your hips and started to find a rhythm and a perfect position. At this angle, his thick length would hit all the spots inside you that made you clench tightly around his cock. However, Seungcheol was not one for giving up control in the bedroom, and not that you minded, but his need to be in control slowly kicked in.

“Ah, shit!” you gasped as Seungcheol started to rub your clit furiously. He got off on making you fall apart for him, and at this moment, he was convinced he was about to cum inside you any second, the way you were tightening around his cock. He would be damned if he came before you did. Your pleasure came above all for him, no matter how dominant he was.

“Baby, hold on,” Seungcheol said before carefully flipping the position so that you were now underneath him.

“Fucking hell,” you wailed out in pleasure as Seungcheol finally found a position that allowed him to pound into you. His thrusts were hard, relentless and purposeful. Each thrust pushed you closer and closer to your orgasm.

“Don’t. You’re going to cum again. I don’t care how many times that is, but I won’t stop fucking you until I cum, let the neighbours hear how good I fuck my baby,” Seungcheol spoke, his voice low and husky and gently biting your earlobe before continuing to fuck you hard. You were sure his back was now covered in scratch marks, and you felt your eyes roll back in pleasure. You knew he was trying to make you squirt. He loved it. He loved knowing he was the only one who could make you feel so good.

“Fucking hell, I’m close, princess,” Seungcheol breathed out. As his thrusts got sloppier, he suddenly pulled out and gave a quick instruction, “on your knees, princess.”

You shakily got on your knees and opened your mouth, allowing Seungcheol to position his cock against your open mouth. He stroked himself a few times before he released it in your mouth, groaning and hissing as he came. Seungcheol pulled his cock out of your mouth, but not before you licked his tip, making him whine in overstimulation, earning a playful glare. He pulled you back to your feet and lightly pushed you onto the bed.

“Ah, Cheol!” you screamed as he plunged two fingers into you and thrust them in and out of your cunt, furiously until you were screaming. All you could do was hold his forearm for support as you came, squirting over his fingers and the sheets. You felt lightheaded and smiled softly when you felt yourself being pulled into Seungcheol’s chest, his strong arms wrapping around you.

“Fuck, this was meant to be about you, baby,” you said, and Seungcheol could feel your pout on his chest.

“Princess, look at me,” Seungcheol said softly, and you looked up at him.

“You did fucking amazing, the bath was amazing, and you trying to be in control was adorable too, but you made me feel good,” Seungcheol said genuinely, making you smile.

“You tired me out enough, and I know I’ll sleep peacefully,” Seungcheol joked.

“Wait, Cheol! We need to change the sheets!” You exclaimed, jolting up only to be dragged back into Seungcheol’s arms.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve slept on sheets soaked with your cum. We can deal with it tomorrow. I need you in my arms to sleep.”

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ukrfeminism · 3 months

Text

A UK academic who has completed a project creating a Wikipedia page for a woman in every country in the world is calling for more women to contribute to the world’s largest encyclopedia.

Lucy Moore, an archaeologist and curator who also works as an unpaid carer, began the mammoth project in 2021 from her sofa in Leeds, completing it last week – “unsurprisingly, perhaps, I got really stuck on Vatican City”.

She has now written biographies of 532 women since 2019, when she first became a Wikipedia editor, including scientists, monarchs, activists, writers and women whose faces are well known but their stories are not, such as Sharbat Gula, the refugee with striking green eyes pictured in the famous Afghan Girl portrait from 1984.

Less than 20% of the biographies on English language Wikipedia are about women, although this is an improvement on 16% in 2014, when “a range of different editors started to get together and say, ‘Actually, we really need to change this’,” said Moore.

She began by making a table of UN member states and partially recognised UN states, such as Kosovo and Taiwan, and worked through the list based on who caught her eye.

She has now also written dozens of entries for women in autonomous regions such as Hong Kong, Zanzibar and Tibet, and those in overseas territories.

There were many women she had expected to find already had pages, such as Julia Chinn, an enslaved woman who was the common-law wife of the ninth vice-president of the United States, Richard Mentor Johnson.

“She’s really interesting and I was really surprised no one had written about her before,” she said.

She tended to focus on women who share her interests, she said, such as poets, activists and coin specialists, known as numismatists, which is her own field.

“I find it really calming,” she said. “I can go and bury myself in something that is totally, totally different from my day to day.”

But it has not been easy. She said one of the issues was that Wikipedia required three reliable sources for each biography and, while there may have been a lot written on social media about some of the women, they may not have appeared in newspapers, especially in countries where women’s achievements are not taken seriously.

The reaction to her project has been positive, she said. “No one’s said anything nasty on Twitter, though I expect that will come.”

Moore points to the work of her fellow editor Jess Wade, who wrote a number of Wikipedia pages about female scientists, “and then another editor came along and nominated them all for deletion. It was really nasty.”

For more Guardian journalism follow this channel

Follow the Guardian

She said there was some general criticism on social media that Wikipedia editors were “making (the gender balance) more of an issue than it actually is”.

“And I find that attitude really annoying, to be honest, because it’s men who say that primarily.”

She pointed to research from 2022 that found there were more Wikipedia entries about football and footballers than there were about women.

However, Moore added: “Some of the most prolific people who work to redress the gender balance on Wikipedia are men and I’m not sure they would all describe it as being a feminist, but that’s what they’re doing.”

Run as a non-profit, open-source encyclopedia that is free to use, Wikipedia can be edited by anyone but only a fifth of its 124,000 regularly active editors are women.

“We do need to get more women to edit, but it’s not just as simple as saying, ‘Hey, women, come and edit’, because we have so much more pressure on our time. There’s all these different studies that show that women have less time to devote to things of interest. And that’s before you even get on to being able to access sources, being able to access particular academic journal articles, which are paywalled.”

Class was also a factor in who contributes and appears on Wikipedia, as was access to education, especially in countries where women are not routinely educated.

“It just gets more and more systemic, the more you look at it,” she said.

Some of the women recognised by Moore

Julia Chinn (c. 1790 – July 1833) was an American plantation manager and enslaved woman of mixed race, who was the common-law wife of the ninth vice-president of the United States, Richard Mentor Johnson. She had two children with the plantation owner and congressman Johnson, who inherited her when his father died, though she would fulfil what at the time was considered the role of the wife of a politician. She was never freed.

Sharbat Gula (born c. 1972) is an Afghan woman who became internationally recognised as the 12-year-old subject in Afghan Girl, a 1984 portrait taken by American photojournalist Steve McCurry that was later published on the cover of National Geographic. The portrait was shot at Nasir Bagh, Pakistan, where Gula was living as a refugee after fleeing the Soviet–Afghan war. Having raised a family in Pakistan for 35 years, Gula was deported to Afghanistan in 2017, later being granted asylum in Italy.

Jeanne Gapiya-Niyonzima (born 12 July 1963, in Bujumbura) is a human rights activist from Burundi. She is the chair and founder of the National Association for Support for HIV-Positive People with Aids (ANSS) and was the first person from the country to publicly admit they had HIV. Gapiya-Niyonzima won the World Food Program prize in 2003, in 2011 addressed the United Nations committee for HIV/Aids in New York and was selected as the Burundian Woman of Courage of the Year in 2012.

Ólafía Einarsdóttir (28 July 1924 – 19 December 2017) was an Icelandic archaeologist and historian, becoming the first Icelander to complete a degree in archaeology. She taught at the University of Copenhagen and published many works about Icelandic sagas and Viking history. Ólafía was awarded an honorary doctorate by the faculty of history and philosophy at the University of Iceland in 2009. The journal Ólafía, published by the Icelandic Association of Archaeologists since 2013, is named after her.

#articles #community #History #Action

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lesbianslvt666 · 1 year

Note

i would love to read ellie x reader something like the reader is ellie's girlfriend and she is punching a envious bitch who is always pestering and teasing the reader... that would be very satisfying 😩

I hear you babe, i got you 😉

Aggressive!Ellie x Girl in STEM!Reader

Being the only female student in a classroom full of men wasn’t easy, even if they knew you were attracted to women AND that you had a girlfriend one or two still tried to make moves.

It was stupid really, but what bothered you the most was this girl, she was the girlfriend of one of your classmates, and she was a pain in the ass.

It all started when one of your classmates made a small gathering for his party, you arrived by yourself due to Ellie being sick, you wanted to stay and take care of her. But she insisted, so you went for a bit.

Upon arrival your classmates greeted you with alcohol which you only took a few sips of. All the guys started to call you party pooper to which you laughed accepting one more shot.

She eyed you, you being the only other girl in the house made her hands form fists.

Her boyfriend was paying more attention to you than to her, without her knowing that you both were only speaking about some assignments and gossiping like little girls about how much you hated some random teacher.

You excused your self to get to the bathroom and thats when it all started, her blood boiling by the fact that her boyfriend didn’t bother to check on her even though it wasn’t your fault.

“Hi.” Her fake smile and piercing eyes got you puzzled.

“Hey…” your feet kept its course toward the bathroom.

Her hand flew to your wrist, harsh move making you look at her now.

“Don’t ignore me you bitch.”

That was the first time she called you names, after that (even knowing you were with Ellie) she continued poking fun at you, laughing at the smallest mistakes and making sure she (at the very least) tried her best to make you feel embarrassed.

Ellie saw it right away, since the first nasty names she called you and tried to pull her on her place, however, you stopped her. “Babe, she is not even worth the fight, just let it go okay, you know it don’t actually affects me.”

You were telling Ellie the truth, her words meaningless to you, her own person insignificant to your daily life.

And so Ellie didn’t tried anything.

Yet, the last straw was today.

Both of you went to a frat party, none wanted to go but Dina had insisted so much that you went anyway.

Your pretty little black dress making you look incredible, pretty hairstyle that made your face glow, the center of attention really.

You looked at Ellie when she stared to drag you between the crowd to an open area.

Pretty shaggy hair ticking her neck, tight white tank top, you owed one to the universe cause she wasn’t wearing nothing underneath it, a brown oversized button up hanging from her, sleeves rolled up to see her strong and veiny fore arms crowded with tattoos, and these worn out jeans so “it doesn’t looks like i tried” (her words)

When you arrived outside, cold air hitting both faces she took the only seat available, Dina lost with Jesses somewhere inside.

You looked inside while walking to a maspreading Ellie, you sat down on her lap while she took a cig out and lit it, putting it between your lips, she took one for herself and did the same.

“Sorry angel, i ran out of weed” her face apologetic, words making you laugh. Your happiness was short lived when you heard a familiar voice.

“The dikes make an appearance” she said tugging at the strap of you dress. Ellie stood up putting you to the opposite side the girl was at.

“Hi Ellie, you look- you look very good today…” her fucking face glowing red and fluttering doe eyes looking at her.

“This is the fucking last time you tell shit to my girl” she said close to the girls face. “And do not dare touching her ever again.” She was fuming. But she returned to look at you ready to take off the night somewhere else

“Or what?”

Ellie looked back at the girl, warning her with her eyes. “What would you do for the bitch you have huh? She so stupid.”

A swing under her chin was the first hit, didn’t took many, cause even though Ellie and the girl were almost the same hight, Ellie was clearly stronger.

The girl tried to grab Ellie’s hair, Ellie was faster, punching her hard on the nose, blood spitting out, busted lip and broken nose making a bloody mess that called everyone’s attention.

The girl fell back to the girl, you thought she would’ve stopped there but months of pint up anger where finally bubbling out of her guts.

Straddling the girl now she grabbed her face, the girl spit blood on Ellie.

“Why fighting over that insignificant roach? I could make you feel better” and Ellie took her hair, smashing her head on the floor, hard enough to hurt but not to kill. She was experienced.

Neither Ellie, the girl or you had realized that her boyfriend was hearing everything.

You took Ellie by her bicep, the girl on the ground confused and babbling shit that didn’t make sense.

Ellie didn’t bother to leave the scene, but not before spitting back on the girl “bitch.” She said under her breath.

When you got to the car both were quiet. None dare to speak. You sit there for so long.

“Thanks”

“Sorry”

You both blurred out.

Laughing you looked back at Ellie, blood still on her, closing the distance you took some tissues and cleaned her.

“Thank you baby, it wasn’t necessary, but I am thankful.” Your voice quiet.

“Its nothing angel, I would fight a fucking bear for you if i had to” your brows furrowed and and laughter bubbled from your chest up.

“Why- why the fuck would you need to fight a fucking bear for me?” Both laughing now.

“You never know the situations you might find yourself in” she said out of breath. “But yeah, it wasn’t even a fight today, i basically bit the shit out of her and she didn’t even tried”

“Maybe she is into that” both of you looking at each other.

Another round of laughter washed over you.

The whole way back to your place was hurried, you need to have Ellie and you showed it by caressing her leg, very damn near her crotch, and well, you pretty little dress wasn’t helpful for her either.

The night was long, fingers and cum, mouths and milky wetness from both.

#ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x female reader #lesbian #the last of us

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venus-haze · 9 months

Text

Open All Night (Severen x Reader)

Summary: The Hooker clan breaks decorum and sets up camp for a few weeks in a small Southern city after shaking Caleb’s father off their trail. It doesn’t take them long to find out another one of their kind has already made the turf home. You just hope they won't cause any trouble. [This is an AU.]

Note: Female reader, but no descriptors are used. Based on this request by @rock-n-macabre! This was so much fun to write🖤 Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: Yandere elements such as stalking, threats, and manipulation. Canon-typical violence and murder. Sexually explicit content that involves bloodplay, choking, mentions of breeding kink. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Death announced its arrival with a holler. The door swung open, and as each one ambled inside the bar with varying degrees of bravado, you knew what they were. Could smell it on them. The crimson glow from the neon lights that washed over each patron was especially appropriate. It’d been years since you met anyone who was like you, and now six were sliding into a large corner booth.

Most of the ragtag bunch didn’t pay you any mind, too absorbed in taking stock of the bar patrons, mostly regulars who you’d known for years. As you mixed drinks and poured beers, you kept an eye on them as best as you could. Then, the older man made eye contact with you. Clearly the de facto leader of the group. For a few moments, you held his gaze. The woman at his side turned to glare at you before a grin spread across her face. Not one to be intimidated, you grabbed the notepad from your apron and made your way over to the table.

“I’m Y/N, how can I help y’all tonight?” you asked with a deceptive cheerfulness, your eyes scanning the group before lowering your voice. “If you’re here for what I think you’re here for, I’m gonna tell you right now, this ain’t the place.”

The older man held up a weathered, assuring hand. “We ain’t gonna encroach your territory.”

You nodded. “Good, then I’ll make some drinks. On the house.”

“Lookit that hospitality,” the shaggy-haired man with his worn leather jacket crooned mockingly. He licked his lips. “Oughta give you a tip.”

“Charming,” you said sardonically.

The way he looked at you nearly sent a shiver down your spine, but instead you straightened your back, maintaining your composure. He winked at you, and you smiled despite yourself.

“I’ll be right back,” you said, turning around to walk back to the bar and make the promised drinks.

“Don’t mind Severen,” the woman said, getting up to walk over to the bar with you. “He’s got hot air where his brain should be. I’m Diamondback.” She named the rest of the clan, and you tried to commit their names to memory.

Clans weren’t uncommon among your kind. They guaranteed safety, though it often meant a nomadic lifestyle as to not draw attention to the sheer number of humans killed. This clan, however, seemed almost hellbent on causing a scene, clearly disappointed you were standing between them and having their fun.

You smirked a bit upon hearing the conversation that had started in the corner booth upon your absence.

“What’re the fuckin’ odds,” Jesse sighed.

“What is it?” Caleb asked in a hushed tone.

“Ya don’t gotta whisper,” Severen said. “She can hear us anyhow.”

“She’s one of us?”

Homer made a raspberry noise. “Duh.”

You snickered, bringing your attention to Diamondback, who was grinning at her clan’s antics. “Nice to meet you. I guess.”

Pulling a flask from your apron pocket, you glanced in either direction as you opened it, pouring the contents into each of the drinks you’d made. The blood was best concealed in dark liquor. It was relatively fresh, having drained it from an asshole trucker who had spent half the previous night harassing you.

Some nights, during long shifts where you couldn’t carve out time to hunt someone down yourself, the gruesome mixture was all that could keep you going. Your instincts scared you sometimes, as people you considered friends so quickly warped into potential meals. Hands shaking, saliva practically dripping from your lips when you handed them their drinks.

“Just you out here?” Diamondback asked, grabbing two glasses while you put the rest on a tray.

“I’m solitary, if that’s what you mean.”

“Hell, good for you. Must be tough.”

“You get used to it.”

Bringing the tray of drinks over, you set each glass in front of the group. Homer smiled when he saw you were giving him the same thing as everyone else. You just hoped Jimmy, the bartender and owner, wouldn’t notice you serving alcohol to someone who looked like an eleven year old boy. You supposed if you were decades old but were stuck in the body of a kid, you wouldn’t appreciate being treated like one by someone who knew better.

Everyone in the clan looked pretty young, save for Jesse. You figured Mae and Caleb had been hardly out of high school when they were turned, Severen and Diamondback in their twenties or thirties, about the same age you had been when you were turned.

You were impressed as Severen threw back what was in the glass, while everyone else sipped somewhat cautiously.

“Blood’s not fresh, but it ain’t bad,” Jesse said, the closest you’d get to a compliment from him.

“You’re not gonna run off now, are ya?” Severen asked, not even trying to hide the way he was drinking you in, the murky blood concoction you’d just served dripping from the corner of his lips.

Out of defiance and curiosity, you did the opposite.

“Hey Jimmy!” you shouted. “I’m taking my thirty!”

He gave you a thumbs up from the bar, and you sat down next to Severen. You pulled a pack of cigarettes from your apron pocket, taking one for yourself and leaving the rest on the table, another peace offering of sorts. No fucking trouble in your territory.

“Don’t come across others like us very often,” Jesse said.

“Me either. Y’all are the first ones to come along since I’ve been working here.”

“How long’s that been?” Mae asked.

“‘Bout eight years.”

“We won’t be stayin’ that long,” Jesse said with a chuckle. “Few weeks at most.”

You nodded your silent approval. It’d be nice having others like you around for a while. Besides, they could only do so much damage in a few weeks. The city was far too big for that, though their disregard for human life of any kind gave you some pause, especially since they didn’t feel the need to conceal it from you.

In the following two weeks, they’d come and go during your shifts, some in pairs, some alone, sometimes the whole group. Severen almost always came in when you were working, sitting at the bar and blatantly flirting with you. He nearly started half a dozen fights with men who dared do the same. You found it flattering. Jimmy thought it was bad for business and threatened to ban Severen unless you got him under control. The notion almost made you laugh. You weren’t sure anyone could control him.

As a compromise, you promised to spend one of your nights off with Severen. He jumped at the offer, the two of you meeting outside of the bar just after sunset one warm evening.

“Ridin’ solo tonight, cowboy?” you asked when you walked over to him.

“Somethin’ like that,” he said. “You ever hunt with someone else before?”

“Nope.”

He grinned. “Shit, I get to pop your cherry.”

“Somethin’ like that,” you echoed, smiling when he put his arm around you.

The two of you wandered downtown for a while, ducking in and out of various shops as they were about to close. Being around Severen was the first time in a long time that you didn’t feel like you had to be guarded. Even with your human friends, you always had to hold part of yourself back.

“You like workin’ at bars?” he asked.

“Yeah, get to meet a lot of interesting people,” you said, nudging him with your elbow. “It’s pretty much the only job where I can work the night shift and not worry about sunlight. Plus, everyone’s too drunk to say anything about me looking the same for years.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “How old are you anyway?”

“Don’t you know you should never ask a lady her age?” you said. “If you must know, I’m 74.”

“I reckon I’m about a hundred by now.”

“You’re lying!”

“Scout’s honor.”

“Well, hurry up old man,” you teased. “I’m getting hungry.”

The two of you kept walking until you reached a more isolated part of the city, one where the streetlights flickered endlessly or didn’t work at all. If you didn’t feed at the bar, that area was your usual hunting grounds. The Hooker clan seemed to have the same idea as you, since murders spiked in the area and were all over the news. It was more desolate than ever as a result.

You and Severen stood in the shadows, observing passersby for your first target of the night. Following Severen’s gaze, you spotted a man leaning against a building, smoking beneath a dim light. You frowned. You knew him. Hank. A regular patron at the bar.

“Severen, not him.”

He scoffed. “Don’t tell me you have a soft spot for these people.”

“He has a wife and kids at home,” you pleaded softly.

Severen looked from the man to you, his hands balled into fists as he huffed. “There anyone around here you don’t know?”

“That’s why I work in bars. Got my pick of strangers.”

“And it don’t bother you none that they might have a wife and kids at home?”

You were silent for a moment as you weakly defended yourself. “It’s different.”

“No, it ain’t,” he said, grabbing your arm. “You gotta toughen up, baby.” The term of endearment left a sour taste in your mouth when he used it, mocking your hesitation, your sentimentality.

He practically dragged you over to Hank, this man you’d known for years, who’d proudly shown you his kids’ school photos every fall. Hank’s eyes lit up in recognition upon seeing you, but just as quickly that light went out when Severen released you from his grip and dug his fingers into Hank’s scalp. You watched, mortified as Hank’s neck snapped at the force Severen used to pull his head back.

Severen didn’t hesitate to sink his teeth into Hank’s skin, lapping up the blood that flowed freely from the wound he inflicted. The primal hunger that you tried so hard to control clouded your senses, as did an unprecedented lust for the savage man before you, who had no qualms about killing, enjoyed it even. He was free, undoubtedly dangerous, and you couldn’t keep yourself from feeding on Hank’s dying body with him.

You indulged, feeling the familiar satisfaction of consuming blood rush through your body like a bolt of lightning. Sometimes, when you were especially famished, feeding felt better than sex. Between the blood and Severen pawing at you, humping your blood-soaked body like a stray dog, you felt dizzy.

“I need you,” he practically growled. “Fuck, baby.”

“I know, but we can’t stick around here.” You panted, your hands fruitlessly trying to keep his passion at bay. “My place ain't far.”

His frustration tore through his throat, the blood dripping from his chin the epitome of the apex predator in the moonlight. Nevertheless, he relented, the two of you rushing to your car, which you’d parked just a block over from the bar, as if something in you sensed something like this would happen. The area was dark and mostly desolate, and you took off before he’d even fully shut the passenger door.

You didn’t live far, though the drive felt endless even with your doing twenty over and running through red lights. The headlights seemed to cross as you swerved about the road, trying to drive steady with Severen practically climbing over to your seat, hands roughly groping your breasts while he dug his teeth into your skin.

He shoved his hand between your legs, rubbing the heel of his palm against your cunt, the fabric from your jeans creating a rough friction that you keened into, and your arms jerked as you nearly steered off the side of the road.

“Fuckin’ pull over,” he ordered, his voice low.

“Almost there.”

“Yeah?”

He applied more pressure, and you moaned, seeing your street in the distance. “Yeah, right there.”

By the time you pulled haphazardly into the driveway, you felt like your heart was going to explode if it even beat at all. The small house you rented was relatively secluded for the area, something you were especially thankful for as you were sure you and Severen would draw attention from any passersby.

Not bothering with the lights, you pulled him by his belt loops into your bedroom, his lips attached to yours until you began peeling off your blood-soaked clothes. The copper scent that filled the room nearly had you drooling, and as soon as he kicked off his boots, you pounced on him.

He reached between you, fingers rubbing circles in your clit, your pussy already sensitive from his teasing in the car.

“Severen, c’mon,” you whined. “Don’t—ah—“

You could feel the tip of his cock poke at your wet cunt, and you lifted your hips in response. He slid into you, his thrusts deep and hard. Sex with human men was underwhelming, but it was something. Severen was a different beast entirely. You choked on your own moan, wrapping around your throat until you realized it was his hand, you could actually feel it.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “You’re gonna be good and take it all, ain’t you, baby?”

You nodded frantically, unable to speak.

“Knew you would—fuck—“

He pounded into you, your pussy clenching around his cock. Sweat brought the dried blood on your skin almost back to life, the smell triggering something deep in you as your bodies practically stuck together. Though he stared intensely in your eyes, you struggled to keep yours open as you neared your orgasm. He reached his first, though, a deep groan as he threw his head back, hips bucking violently against you as you felt warmth fill you.

Pleasure cracked through your body like a whip, and you arched your back, a moan coming from deep in your belly as you came. You couldn’t remember the last time your muscles ached, a dull pain as you settled next to Severen, who’d collapsed beside you on the bed.

“Does this always happen when you hunt with someone?”

“Once. A long time ago. She was a lil’ too wild for me, even.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, lightly hitting his bare chest.

“You oughta come with us. Forget this place and be with your own kind,” he said.

“It’s not that simple. I’ve made a life here. I have a job, and friends,” you said, as if you hadn’t eaten one of those friends just a few hours earlier.

“You ain’t lonely?”

“Sometimes,” you said. “You don’t ever feel suffocated with so many people around all the time?”

“No, I do best with an audience.”

“I can tell.”

When morning came, your blackout curtains shielded you and Severen from the unforgiving sun, the two of you curled up in your bed, dried blood caked on your skin. About an hour before your shift, you took a shower, though you couldn’t quite scrub all of the blood from your nails. You hoped no one at the bar would notice.

Severen had made himself busy wandering around your house, opening every drawer and cabinet he came across when you told him you were headed to work. He nodded, not sparing you a glance when he mentioned he and the rest of the clan would stop by later on. Strange.

Your car’s upholstery was fucked, but you hoped with enough bleach and elbow grease, you could get it looking less like a murder scene. It kind of was one. You tried not to think about that too much.

Otherwise, your shift went by without consequence, though you’d heard people talking about how Hank had been found brutally murdered.

“You sure you wanna work tonight?” Jimmy asked. “If you wanna go home early, you can. Cops are sayin’ it was an animal attack, but I’m not so sure.”

“I’ll be fine, Jimmy. Thanks,” you said, forcing a smile that just as quickly fell when you saw Severen walk in with the rest of the Hooker clan.

He hadn’t even bothered to clean the previous night’s blood off, giving you a wicked grin when he saw you.

“How're you shitkickers feelin’ tonight?” he hollered. “Better be great, ‘cause it’s gonna be your last.”

Jesse grabbed a bottle off the bar, smashing it against a man’s face and then pouncing when he collapsed on the floor in pain.

“What the—“ Jimmy muttered, reaching for the rifle he kept beneath the bar.

You watched in horror as Severen jumped on top of the bar, and with a fluid kick, sliced Jimmy’s throat open with the razor sharp spurs on the heel of his boot. Your boss collapsed in your arms, his garbled choking noises drowned out by the sound of gushing blood, and possessed by your instincts, you devoured, your thirst leaving you content to ignore the pandemonium that had broken out among the patrons.

Their shouts echoed in your ears. Bitch. Monster. Demon. Vampire. Someone had thrown a bottle at you. You didn’t even flinch.

By the time you had come to your senses, blood dripping from your mouth, eyes wide and wild, the clan had made a meal of nearly everyone in sight. You caught Severen’s gaze, an expression of pride and affection on his blood-covered face. You stormed over to him, grabbing him by his jacket collar.

“Why did you do that? I’ve known these people for nearly ten years and—“

“Ten years ain’t nothin’. ‘Nother ten and most of ‘em would be dead anyway.”

“That’s not the point! They were my—“

“Friends? Some friends, turned on you real fast once they saw you chowin’ down on your old boss.”

“You better decide what your next move is quick, ‘cause once we burn this place down, cops are gonna be here faster than you can blink,” Diamondback said from a few feet away, pushing aside a young man she’d just drained of blood. Letterman jacket. College football star. Not anymore.

“She’s coming with us,” Severen said in a tone you knew there was no use in trying to argue against. “No more of this human bullshit.”

Jesse nodded. “Alright, then. Let’s light this place up.”

You watched helplessly as they grabbed bottles off the bar, stuffing them with cloth they’d ripped from the bodies of the dead patrons and rushing outside. Severen handed you a bottle, and you had little choice but to throw the explosive when he lit the end of it, watching the life you’d so carefully built for yourself literally go up in flames.

Hearing sirens in the distance, you took Severen’s hand, tears blurring your vision as you ran into the uncertainty of your nomadic life with the Hooker clan.

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