SUMMARY: A run-in with one of the most notorious gun-slingers in the West leads to an unexpected intimacy.
WC: 8.2k
WARNINGS: mentions of parental issues, male violence, misogyny, guns/weapons, sexual insinuation, hunting/killing animals (for food), reader is stubborn and unaware, death, violence (shooting), drinking, pining/yearning, use of ‘whore’ for prostitute, smut (18+ ONLY); unprotected sex (p in v), fingering, bath/shower sex, dirty talk, praise kink, riding (girl on top), nipple play, creampie, cute cuddling 18+ under the cut
A/N: well…this is it, everybody. big thank you to @spikedfearn for a discussion on how roy’s praise kink, @amaranthine-enihtnarama, @iceemochaa, @remmicks-salvation for the motivation to write, @fuckoffbard for literally everything, @confetti-cakemix and my lovelyyyy wifey @eternalstrigoii for beta reading! this fic is based off of this request, so thank you anon 😌 roy goode is my no. 1 jack role so this is long overdue! this takes place before godless, so no need to watch/know the show. please enjoy!
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this post is 18+ only. minors do not interact.
YOU HAD A habit of finding yourself in places where you didn't belong. As a child, it was your father grabbing you by the back of your frock after he found you wandering near the library. "Girls don't need to concern themselves with books," he'd said. Didn't stop you from reading almost every one of them.
It was back in Courthill when he caught you watching the deputy's target practice.
“You should be courting the boys, not shooting at ‘em.”
So, it was no surprise that you found yourself as another lonely wanderer through the vast Western frontier. You’d slipped out the back door of his farmhouse that had never been a home. And considering there hadn’t been a single sign of a search for you in the past five years, clearly, you weren’t missed. Maybe you’d been presumed dead.
It was no matter to you now. Courthill was long behind you, and living on your own as a young woman in the West had taught you more than your father ever had.
You’d done bad things, but no worse than any man. You’d killed, but no more than a woman’s survival called for.
Now, as you found yourself wandering in some forsaken town during the hottest month of the summer, you couldn’t help but remember your father’s words. There was no telling if you were even in Texas anymore. Your only possessions consisted of a sack swung over your shoulder carrying spare clothes and a canteen.
The scorched dirt crunched underneath your boots. This town wasn’t yours and you weren’t about to stroll around it like it was, but no matter how low you held your head, you felt the glare of cautious, watchful eyes.
It wasn’t everyday someone would see an alluring woman like you dressed in her father’s trousers—a few sizes too big—boots that were stuffed at the toe to fit, and a gambler hat faded by the sun. The most noticeable accessory was the silver pistol on your belt. But it wasn’t the stolen clothes that gave it away.
It was your hair. Uncut and hanging just above your waist. And the fact you hadn’t made an attempt to hide it under your hat showed you weren’t trying to be someone you weren’t.
You were just another runaway.
There were whispers, none of which you could make out, but enough to know you weren’t exactly welcome in this place.
You had to leave. Soon. But the next civilization wasn’t for another eight miles—too far to go on foot in this heat.
“Who is that?” A young boy asked his mother; she shushed him, and turned him away.
Like the sight of you was a walking sin.
The rim of your hat hid your eyes as you walked past them. A sharp turn to your right led you to another street lined with wooden buildings bent from the Western wind. This road was quieter and emptier; you preferred it that way.
Then, like a miracle, you heard the sound of a deep, throaty snort. Your gaze shifted to an alley between a small house and the telegraph office where a hitching post stood in the dirt. Tied to it was a black mare, standing strong despite the sun beaming down on her.
Bullseye.
You were careful not to make any sudden sounds as you approached the post. She shifted her weight, head hung low just like yours as steam faintly curled from her nostrils.
“Easy, girl,” you hold your hand out gently.
On her back was a worn leather saddle and two sacks hung over her hips. Braided reins wrapped around her snout. This one belonged to someone, and as a stranger to this town, you had no place in taking her.
A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, you thought to yourself.
Once you were close enough, you set your hand on her cheek, gently rubbing the soft fur with your thumb. “Long day?” You half-cooed, scratching underneath her chin. The mare snorted in response.
Looking over your shoulder to see that no one had noticed you yet, you began to sort through the sacks. An empty canteen. A couple of golden, shotgun shells. A stale, half-eaten piece of bread wrapped in cloth. A handful of silver dollars. You took the money, but everything else was nothing of value to you. You threw the sacks to the ground so the dust floated in the air like a cloudy sky you hadn’t seen in days. A bead of sweat dripped down your cheek as you hurriedly tied your own bag to the saddle, moving to undo the knot around the hitching post.
If your heart hadn’t been beating so hard that you could feel it in your eardrums, you might’ve heard the quiet footsteps behind you.
“Afternoon, ma’am,” a low, gentle voice called out to you.
You almost gasped, your fingers still fumbling with the reins. Turning on the heel of your boot, you noticed the figure at the end of the alley.
A man dressed in black half-smiled at you.
“Afternoon, sir.”
“Is there, uh,” he began to slowly approach you, and you readied yourself to pull the gun from your side. “something I can help you with?”
Perhaps he was just a kind man looking to help a random woman in trouble. But you didn’t plan on finding out.
“Oh, not at all,” you smiled warmly. “Thank you.”
You finished untying the knot of the reins, quick to get out of this town as soon as possible.
But before you could secure it in your hand, the man behind you clicked his tongue against his teeth. In almost an instant, the mare rushed to him, the reins slipping from your hands with a burning sensation. You hissed at the feeling and immediately pulled the pistol from your hip.
The horse stopped by his side. The man looked over to see your gun pointed directly at his chest. Aimed for his heart.
Roy Goode had met a lot of strange people in his life. He’d been to a lot of strange places, and never had he met such a woman like you—standing in your stolen boots and holding your pistol at him; you could take his life in an instant, and he doesn’t doubt it. He takes the reins in his hands and twists it around his palm.
“Thieves don’t do too well here,” he said, though it didn’t feel like a threat.
Dust swirls in the space between you. “I didn’t know it was yours,” there’s an edge of defensiveness and even shame to your voice. “I’ve stolen worse from worse men.”
There’s a ghost of a smirk on his face. The man studies you for a moment and nods once. “That why you’re out here alone?”
If you had thought of something clever enough to say, you would’ve, but your mind draws a blank. You’re fixated on the pair of blue eyes watching you. Without noticing, you’ve lowered your weapon to your hips already.
“What’s your name?”
You glared at him for a moment. “And why should I tell you?”
He smiles. “It’d be kind, at the very least. Wanna know who I’m talking to.”
“(y/n). (l/n).”
The man nods. “Well, Miss (l/n), horses aren’t just toys to be stolen,” he says, gently petting the mare’s chin and running his fingers through her mane. “You want something that runs, you earn it.”
“And how would I do that?” You tilt your head.
The man mounts the horse with an impressive ease. He settles into the saddle like he’d been doing it his entire life. Now, the tilted smirk on his face widens. “Don’t suppose you’re any good with a rifle?”
You glance off in the distance for only a second.
You could bolt off right there and then. It’d probably earn you a bullet in the leg, but you were quicker than you looked.
Most men in the West would have shot you on the spot for messing with what was theirs. Not this one. You clicked your teeth at the realization that your options were severely outweighed.
Any good with a rifle? “Good enough.”
WHOEVER THIS MAN was, he wasn’t completely with the law.
Yet, he didn’t seem to think himself above it. You nearly objected when he paid a rancher on the outskirts of town for a horse, saddle and all, but who were you to deny a gift? Besides, it had a lovely chestnut coat that you admired.
The town was far behind you as you slowed the horses’ galloping to a gentle stroll beside one another. To anyone who didn’t already know you, the two of you actually made quite a nice-looking pair.
Canyon walls surrounding you stood tall, practically glowing a golden rust in the late afternoon sun. Gravel and dirt crunched underneath the horse hooves; small songbirds gently chirped off in the distance; the dry air whistled a tune. The sweet music of the West.
Neither of you spoke much.
There was a polite “thank you” for the horse and a brief conversation about sunburn, but other than that, you were complete strangers. Perhaps it was a way of leaving the scenery undisturbed, or maybe it was that you didn’t have anything to say until one of you was sick of the silence.
Fortunately, he gave in first. “So what’s a young lady such as yourself doin’ in these parts?”
“I’m not a lady,” You had no qualms against this man, but a part of you scowled at him. It wasn’t the first time someone thought they’d figured you out because of what was between your legs. “And I’m from Courthill. Texas.”
He whistled. “You’re a long way from home.”
“How long?”
“About two weeks that way.” He pointed to the left.
For the past few days, you wouldn’t have been able to pinpoint your location on a map if it was laid out in front of you. It was odd to think that home—a place you never wanted to see again—was so close yet so far.
He spoke again. “I don’t suppose you made the whole journey by foot.”
You scowled, turning your head so he wouldn’t notice it. As of now, he’d only shown you kindness. You couldn’t shake the stubborn, defensive barrier that came with being a woman on her own.
“I had a horse,” you shifted the reins in your hands to avoid a large rock in the path. “Couldn’t keep it fed, so I sold it to a woman who could. A Miss Alice Fletcher.”
A brief silence settled between you before he broke it.
“Surely, there’re ways for a- uh, woman to, uh,” he cut himself off, gently stumbling on his words. You knew damn well what he was going to say. “You know…”
“Do I look like a prostitute to you?”
If your hair had been tied up, or you’d worn a thicker jacket to cover up the curve of your chest, Roy would’ve fairly assumed you were a thieving, conniving, worn-down man like him. But you weren’t. And he enjoyed seeing you in pants rather than a skirt. He didn’t even try to picture the latter.
There was dirt on your cheek. Mud smudged over the knees of your slacks. A small, red scar on your collar bone.
“No, ma’am.”
Good. That’s that. But he spoke again, just above a mumble like it was only meant for himself.
“You’d make good money as one.”
You sighed. A spiteful grin on your face. “So, would you.” It was meant to be offensive, something degrading and sarcastic. He hardly took it as one.
“Why, thank you.” He perked. You shook your head at your lame insult.
Then, he motioned to the hat on your head and the boots on your feet. “So I’m guessin’ those ain’t yours?”
Well, you’d hoped it wasn’t noticeable that they were a size too big. Your eyes trailed across the scenery, an embarrassingly obvious way of forming a quick lie. “A farmer from Oklahoma gave them to me.”
Of course, he saw right through it. “That don’t look like a farmer’s hat to me.”
“I didn’t realize I was being interrogated.”
“You did try to steal my horse.”
Touché, unfortunately. Without a moment to spare—because you really didn’t feel like opening yourself up to this man—you changed the subject. “Why’d you bring me along?”
He cocked his head. “Is it my turn now?”
You ignored the smirk on his face.
With a shrug, he continued, “There’s a man I’m lookin’ for, lives down in Tucson.” That nearly knocked the air out of your lungs. You pulled back on the reins and he turned at your sudden halt in the path. “Somethin’ wrong?”
“I don’t even know who the hell you are,” you sighed. It might’ve been better to speak a little quieter in a valley where anyone could be hidden, but you weren’t exactly aiming for security. “Look, I appreciate the horse, and I’m sure it’s a lovely ride to Tucson. This has been fun and all, but I’ve got other matters to deal with. You can’t even tell me the man’s name and I’m supposed to shoot him down for you?”
He didn’t necessarily smile at you; his lips only tilted slightly. It was his eyes that looked amused at your sudden burst.
The world you lived in wasn’t kind to women who used their mouths. You’d learned that the hard way from your father first. There were plenty of men down the line who’d shown you as well, mostly with their fist to your cheek. You weren’t wrong to feel angry or misled, but you hadn’t meant to raise your voice with a stranger.
Maybe he’d shoot you right there. Leave you for dead in the middle of nowhere.
But there was no firm slap across your face nor the ringing of a gun piercing a bullet in your side.
Just the surprisingly gentle tone of his voice.
“Now, that’s a mighty fine stallion, so you’re welcome for the horse. And yes, it is a lovely ride to Tucson. I think you’ll enjoy it. I wouldn’t say this has been fun—is this what you consider fun?” You scowled. “But I enjoy the company. And seein’ that you’ve made no attempt to outrun or rob me—again—I don’t think you do have other matters to attend to.
“The man’s name is Les Moore. He’s a banker-turned-bandit. We’ve got unfinished business I don’t plan on disclosin’, but I do plan on shooting him myself. I simply need someone to watch my back. And my name is Roy.”
He paused again, but this time, it left a noticeable weight in the air.
“Roy Goode.”
You knew that name. There wasn’t a soul throughout the West that didn’t know that name. You’d heard it in folktales and stories around campfires, seen it written in thick, blank ink on wanted posters across a hundred different towns.
Even further, you knew that the man it belonged to had a certain friend you didn’t want any association with.
“If you’d like to go your own way, be my guest.” He continued. “But you don’t seem to know these parts and a lot of men stronger than you have died here. It’s up to you…ma’am.”
A long silence followed.
Your teeth dig into the inside of your cheek because, deep down, you know he’s right. And you hate being wrong. The two of you stood still in the middle of the canyon. Even your horse sighed with impatience, but Roy kindly awaited your response.
“Fuck,” you said under your breath.
Then loud enough for Roy to hear, “Fine. But know this, Roy Goode,” You clicked your heels against the stallion’s belly. “Ain’t no man in the West who’s stronger than me.”
Not a single bone in Roy’s body doubted it.
“CAREFUL, NOW.”
You clenched your jaw so visibly that Roy could see you were in no need of his advice. The rifle rested so comfortably in your hands, he had to wonder how many times you’d done this.
“I know how to shoot, Goode.”
“I believe you,” He dryly chuckled. “So take the shot.”
He had a point. It only pissed you off more. You shifted quietly enough that the small, dirt-colored rabbit off in the distance never noticed your presence. At this point, it would’ve been Roy’s voice that gave it away.
“Shut up,” you hissed.
With your left eye squeezed shut, you focused your sight on the rabbit. Not even your heart could beat hard enough to throw off your aim, but a gentle breeze blew a strand of hair into your face and ruined your line of vision.
“Let me do it,” Roy moved to take the pistol from his side before a shot rang from beside him.
The rabbit dropped to the ground with a gentle thud.
You grinned at your new partner in crime. “You were saying?”
An hour passed before the sun sat low in the sky, just above the line of the land, casting a golden hue across your surroundings. The rest of the sky was somehow an inky shade of black, illuminated with more stars than you’d ever seen in your life. Strange you thought to yourself. Embers from the small fire Roy had started with spare branches and weeds floated above you, glistening amongst the stars.
He watched you take the blade hidden in your belt, dragging it against the rabbit’s fur and pulling its skin from the meat. The women he knew would’ve gagged at the sight of blood or ran at the simple thought of killing an innocent animal.
But not you.
“Now, where’d you learn to do that?”
You chuckled, a faint smile coming to your face, at a memory. “I can’t go givin’ you all my secrets.”
There was something about you that knew survival. It was gritty and dark, and though he would never admit it, Roy ached to know more.
He hung the meat above the flames on a spit, gently twirling it so the skin had an even, roasted color all over. Your mouth watered at the sight of it. Once it was ready, the two of you ravaged it with desperate fingers like starving wolves. It was, in no way, a good meal. Dry and flavorless, and split between the two of you, one rabbit was hardly enough. But it was the first time in days that your stomach had been able to settle over anything.
“I lived off of lizards for a time,” Roy said once there were only bones left. The two of you wore soft, tired smiles that came with good food and good company. You’d licked your fingers clean and now used your leather sack as a make-shift pillow. “Can’t shoot the fuckers. I had to chase after them with a blade.”
You laughed softly. Roy enjoyed the way a smile—not a flashy, pretty one put on to appease the men around you, but a distant, reminiscent one—looked on you.
“I’ve been there. I was near Mexico when all I had were tree leaves and cactus meat. Boiled it with river water.” Roy hummed a chuckle. The horses, tied to a withered tree, shuffled nearby. You glanced over your shoulder at them. “I like to think they’re talking to each other.”
“They are,” he said, throwing the last of the bones into the dirt. “June’s got a lot of stories to tell him.”
For a brief moment, you thought it odd that he referred to the horses like they were the same as him—or that he was one of them.
You arched a brow, “You named her June?”
Roy could see that you were amused. “Thought it was pretty.” He almost shrugged.
You hummed in fairness. Glancing back at your horse, you realized it didn’t feel right to leave him nameless. And despite Roy having bought it, the stallion was yours. “Johnny.” You said plainly.
“Come again?”
“I’ll name him Johnny.”
Now you were talking like you were one of them too.
Roy wondered then who Johnny was to you. Or maybe it was someone from a past life. He gazed at the remains of the fire before glancing over at you.
Maybe it was the gentle light in the vast darkness, but there was a newfound softness in your face. He could see the tiniest of imperfections—small scars won in battle, a minuscule bump on your chin—of which most women would cover with powder.
But not you.
He’d seen beautiful women before. Plenty of them. And here you were, resting near the flickering fire and under the iridescent moonlight, forcing him to question if he’d ever really understood beauty before he saw you.
“Johnny and June.” He said out loud in thought.
You met his eyes, unaware of how long he’d been looking at you. “It has a nice ring.”
Roy nodded. “That it does.”
THREE DAYS OF riding had taken the two of you to a small town called Tombstone, just a day’s journey to Tucson. Roy’s name was known around here, but, thankfully, his face wasn’t.
With a pair of crinkled, ten-dollar bills, he reserved two separate rooms in a lodging above the general store. As he paid, the clerk didn’t miss her chance to shoot a half-confused, half-cautious glare your way. “Each room’s got a tub,” she noted, motioning to the smudged dirt on your cheek.
You gave her a tight smile. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Roy handed you a key and kept one for himself as the two of you scaled the stairs to the second floor. “Hungry at all?”
“You got the money for dinner?”
He shrugged, “Enough for more than rabbits and lizards.” You reached a long hallway. He pointed to the second to last door marked with a 6. “I think that’s your room there.”
“This says four,” you read the engraved number on the key. The correct door was only two away. Roy only hesitantly chuckled to himself. You glanced at his key, “And you’re three.”
“Right,” he said, awkwardly but gratefully nodding. He seemed to know numbers well enough when it came to money.
Without saying more, you started to fumble with the keyhole of your door. The lock clicked open before Roy spoke again. “There’s a saloon on the corner. Meet me there a little after the sun sets? Give you some time to rest up.”
You were surprised to instantly nod at his request. “Sure,” you smiled before you went your separate ways.
The room wasn’t much by anyone else’s standards, but it was more than you’d seen in weeks. A wire-framed bed with two quilts and an oil lamp sat to your right; a wardrobe for clothes you didn’t have stood tall in the corner. A metal basin in the other one. The windows were adorned with dusty lace curtains that filtered the sunlight into the room.
You locked the door behind you and tossed the sack on the ground, immediately collapsing onto the bed. The springs squeaked underneath your body, but the mattress was comfortable enough.
Better than rocks and dirt.
Before you let your eyes close, you watched the ceiling, noticing the slight cracks in it. They began to form a shape, soon morphing into a familiar face. Blue eyes that always seemed to gaze at you when you weren’t looking. A pair of soft lips that hardly ever smiled, but on the canvas of the ceiling, they did.
You laid on your side and forced your eyes shut.
But even in the darkness of your mind, a place of purgatory between dreams and wake, you saw him.
WHEN YOU WOKE, you swore you could feel something grazing your arm. But you turned over to see that you were still alone in the room. The sweet, golden light of day was gone now, replaced by the ghostly, glowing moon. A gentle hue of purple sat over the horizon.
It hadn’t been dark for long. You thought this while mentally praying you hadn’t kept Roy waiting too long.
You hurried to grab your hat and leave the room, rushing down the stairs and out the door. Just as he’d said, a saloon stood tall on the corner of the street. A few men grouped together with smoke curling from their mouths watched as you approached the entrance.
“Evening…ma’am,” they said hesitantly at your appearance. You only nodded.
With one step into the bar, you seemed to catch the attention of nearly everyone inside. You noticed then that there didn’t appear to be a single woman. Even the man at the piano stopped playing his song, only missing a beat before starting again.
Silence. Your boots clicked against the wood floor.
You glanced around the room for your traveling companion before a man with a thick beard approached you. His broad frame seemed to block you from entering further.
“Ma’am.” He grinned, revealing yellow teeth and two silver caps. His eyes drifted up and down your figure. “I think you may be in the wrong place. Sally’s cafe down the street doesn’t close for another hour.”
You tightly smiled back. “I assure you, sir, I’m in the right spot.”
You began to move forward again before his firm hand pressed itself over your stomach. The contact, unexpected and unwelcome, made you suddenly feel trapped.
“Good men don’t go puttin’ their hands on young women,” a voice said from behind you.
The man slowly dropped both his hand and his grin. You turned to see Roy standing just as he had back in that alley. He offered you a small smile.
“You with him?” The man sneered, glancing back and forth between you and Roy trying to discern the dynamic. You shook your head.
“He’s with me.”
As the man backed away, retreating to his spot at the bar with his friends, Roy’s footsteps halted at your side. He pulled out a chair from a table nearby and held his hand out like a gentleman. You kindly took the seat.
Roy sat across from you, placing his hat on the table. “Two whiskeys,” he ordered once a server came by. “What’s your finest meal?”
“I’ve got a beef and bean stew.” The server offered.
“Two of those,” you smiled. He turned away, leaving just you and Roy alone again.
And despite the other men in the room cautiously eyeing you, not a single soul seemed to exist then. The server returned with two glasses of whiskey before the bar guests called him back over.
“That happen anytime you go somewhere?” Roy asked with the whiskey at his lips.
You twirled your glass, careful not to spill a single drop. “For the most part,” you shrugged, though you don’t appear to be at all fazed from the gentle smile you wore. There was a distant, amused gleam in your eyes where Roy could see a thousand thoughts running in your mind.
“I don’t need saving, you should know,” you added a little quieter.
Roy wasn’t offended. Not at the very least, but he thought it odd that you hadn’t fully appreciated his incursion. Now that he considered it more, he would’ve liked to see you handle yourself.
“Well, I respect that,” he said. You nodded in gratitude and he blinked.
“You’re a respectable woman, Miss (l/n).”
Your body froze as whiskey hit your throat like flames. “What makes you say that?”
He gave a small shrug. “There aren’t many women out in the West who carry themselves with…strength.” He held his hand up defensively and chuckled. “I mean no offense, I think all women are respectable. More than any man, that’s for sure. Hell, my mother died when I was young, but I knew she was formidable.”
You knew that kind of pain. Your heart clenched, but your expression didn’t change.
“I guess, you somewhat remind me of that about her.”
You’d been complimented before, much more in regards to your looks, but there were many who’d commended your skills with a pistol or aptitude for words. No one had gone so far as to say you were formidable.
And deep down, you’d always considered yourself so.
But it was different to finally hear it from someone else. Someone other than your mind who could see you for what you were.
You knew you were strong. And Roy Goode knew it too.
“My mother died when I was young, as well,” you added. “Don’t remember her much, and my father didn’t like to talk about it.”
He studied you for a good moment. Then, knowingly, “You ran away?”
“As soon as I was eighteen,” you hummed. “Should’ve done it sooner. Woulda saved me a lot of trouble.”
The subject of parents was a risky place to go with someone like Roy Goode, but there wasn’t a bone in your body that was afraid of it. “What about you,” you amused. “Mama died and you come across Frank Griffin?”
His eyes snapped up to yours like a threat, but you weren’t afraid of him. At all.
“Everyone knows who Frank Griffin is,” you downed the rest of your drink. A little more would go to your head soon. “I’m not stupid.”
Then, Roy’s eyes softened.
“You can read,” was all he said.
“What?” Did he even hear you?
Roy quickly caught himself and shook his head. “Nothin’.”
The server returned to the side of the table and refilled your glasses. Once he was out of earshot, Roy rested his elbows on the table. “I met Frank when I was younger. He and his brother saved my life.”
You arched a brow. “Frank Griffin saved your life?”
“Careful, ma’am,” he finished his second glass in one gulp. “Don’t go sayin’ his name too many times, or you’ll summon someone worse than the devil.”
“Guess he can’t be too bad if you’re with him.”
Although you expected Roy to chuckle, or at the very least smile, at your comment, he didn’t. He instead thickly swallowed as if he’d suddenly gone nervous. You could see his knuckles tense.
It was maybe a miracle when the server then arrived with two steaming bowls of stew. The smell that it emanated was that of bitter salt and old potatoes, but as you dragged your spoon in it, it looked fine enough to consume. The two of you hesitantly and simultaneously took one mouthful before furrowing your brows in thought.
After a moment, you set the spoon down and shook your head.
Roy’s lips curled in disgust. “I think I almost prefer the rabbits and lizards.”
You instantly broke out into a synchronous chuckle, one that almost made your smiles reach your eyes. He tried to take another bite before swearing it was poison. A few other guests at the bar sent some questionable glares your way—your laughter was nearly louder than the piano.
But the two of you could hardly notice anyone else when you had the other right across the table.
IT WAS SURELY late enough to retire back to your rooms by the time you’d finished at the saloon, but the combination of your earlier rest and the whiskey running through your veins left you both awake.
The street lamps had been lit as the two of you strolled down the side, passing by the few townspeople who’d decided to enjoy the pleasant evening air.
For the first time in a while, it wasn’t blistering hot, even with the moon in the sky.
Your conversation from dinner hadn’t ended for a single moment during your walk. “You’re some kind of horse whisperer, then?” You asked after Roy had told you he ‘understood them’.
“Maybe I am,” he chuckled, hands lazily in his pockets. “Maybe we share the same kind of brain. I can hear them.”
You shook your head with a grin, the whiskey still hot in veins. “You’re something else,” you mumble. “You got June well-trained, I’ll say that.”
But Roy tutted. “It’s not ‘trained’—your first mistake.” You nodded for him to continue. “I respect her and she respects me. It’s a relationship.”
“She respects you?” You asked in amused disbelief.
He hummed. “It’s a balance, like an exchange.”
Though you can still sense the humor in your voice, you momentarily ponder that what Roy said was deeply beautiful. You’d never given it much thought, but riding a horse was much more than mounting it and yelling at it until it went.
Roy had a profound tenacity for kindness that you hadn’t encountered in very many, if not any, men. In a way, it puzzled you. He was a complicated, tangled string that became a fascinating image in all of its knots. You were vexed by it just like the constellations in the sky as the two of you gazed up at the end of the road.
“I do hope Heaven is real,” you say out loud. You didn’t actually mean to.
But Roy knew exactly what you meant.
“Me too,” he said softly, carefully shifting his gaze to you for only a moment—taking in how perfectly moonlight hit your skin, shadowing and highlighting all of the right parts.
You were the type of woman someone carried a picture of with them for the mere hope they’d see you again.
He looked down at his boots in the dirt. “Doubt I’d make it there.”
You turned to him. “You don’t think so?”
“Well, bad men seem to do well enough down here,” Roy smiled softly to himself. “I don’t think I know anyone who’d make it up there. Good, bad…I used to think there was a difference. It’s just two ends of the same spectrum.”
“And what about me?”
Roy looked at you then, almost puzzled. Bewildered. “What?”
“You said you don’t know anyone who’s good enough for heaven.” The slight tilt of your lips was more intoxicating than the whiskey. “What about me?”
Despite the burning in his pulse, Roy held himself back from saying what he wants: Wherever it is, I hope it’s with me.
Instead, he professed, “Well, you just might be an exception.”
And for the first time since you met Roy Goode, you let yourself feel the blood in your body rush to your heart. It moved to your cheeks, and you mentally thank God that it was too dark to see how red they’d turned.
But there were worse matters on hand than the flush on your face. It was the horrible ache between your legs that hadn’t been relieved in…too long.
“C’mon,” you mused. “We should get back before it’s too late.”
His bashful smirk matched your own.
ROY’S EYES DON’T pull from your figure for a single second as he follows you up the stairs…the sway of your hips with each step, how you glance over your shoulder to see if he’s close behind.
And each time you look, he’s exactly where you expect him to be.
The sound of your boots comes to a halt as you stop at the door marked four, your fingers brushing over the handle. Roy’s presence lingered behind you like a ghost.
“Today was a hot one,” he says quietly, as if anything too loud would have you running away. “Left me feelin’ grimy.”
Like you’d said: You weren’t stupid. “Best to wash it off, then.”
He nods back slowly with a soft smirk you haven’t seen him wear yet. You wonder then what it’ll be like to undress it.
You push the door open with a sudden ease from Roy’s weight pressed against you. His hand graces over your hip as he closes the door witht the heel of his boot. Once his touch becomes firmer—but still respectful—you speak again.
“You’ve helped me an awful lot these past few days.” You didn’t expect yourself to speak so softly. His other hand sets his hat on the side of the bed. “Buying me that horse, this room…”
In the corner, the large metal basin sits empty. Waiting.
“You treat every girl who robs you like this?”
A quiet chuckle comes from the depths of his chest. “Just this one.”
Your eyes glance at his, before drifting downwards to where your hand ghosts over his belt. A shaky, almost inaudible breath falls from his lips. “I almost feel like I owe you.”
“Oh, no,” he drawls. “Darlin’, you don’t owe me nothin’.”
He tilts your chin upwards so your eyes meet his again. You don’t even notice you’ve taken your bottom lip in between your teeth, and he nearly moans just at the sight of that.
“I’m a giver,” he says softly, his thumb dragging over your lip. The metal in his belt clanks as you fumble with the buckle.
He leans in even closer. “And I could give you something more.”
So close. Close enough that he can undo each button of your blouse, so slowly you swear he’s trying to make your skin crawl. Close enough that he can feel your lips brushing over the corner of his mouth.
It’s not an invitation. It’s a seal of approval.
And so with it, Roy lets his body move before his mind can stop him—not that it ever would. You mold so perfectly against his lips like he was made to kiss you and no one else. It’s warm and wet when he drags his tongue, brushing over your teeth and finding your own.
You’ve been kissed before, but never like this. Never so sweetly yet vigorously. He pulls your top from your shoulders and lets it fall to the ground, your trousers soon after. You toe your boots off before unbuttoning his own shirt.
He pulls from the kiss to drag his lips across your jaw, grazing over your neck.
“Been wonderin’ what was underneath all this.”.
“You like what you see?” You giggle.
He stands back, and you’re left vulnerable and naked. The air is cold without his touch. You almost feel unsure of yourself.
Then you realize he’s looking at you with the hunger of a starved wolf.
“Darlin’, I ain’t sayin’ I’m gonna ruin you—would never ruin you,” his chest rises and falls with a heavy, steadying breath. “But you just might beg me to.”
Your knees almost buckle. He moves to switch on the faucet to the tub, and you take the moment to appreciate the parts of him you can see. His belt hangs slightly open, the zipper of his jeans pulled halfway down.
You run your hand through the water once it reaches a high level in the tub.
“‘S perfect,” you hum, a warm smile on your face that soon disappears when Roy lifts you from your feet.
He sets you inside the tub, leaning over the edge. Cupping the water with his hands, he runs it over every inch of your body, making sure there isn’t a single dry spot apart from your face. When his fingers graze your skin, you shudder.
“Aren’t you gonna join me, Goode?” You ask with a tempting smile.
“Lady’s first.” He takes a soft rag by the side of the tub and lathers it with a citrus soap, rubbing it smoothly over your figure.
You sigh contently. “No point in washin’ the sin off me now if we’ll be making more later.”
Your eyes meet his. Temptation mounted his face with an alluring darkness settling over his eyes.
A pressure began to build in the space between your legs before you realized it was no phantom feeling, but instead Roy’s two digits submerged under the water. He’d dropped the towel in the water with his mind focused on something else now. His fingertips brushed over your pearl before completely pressing against it.
He acted as if there was no time to waste, setting a consistent, circular motion over your clit. Your eyelids fluttered close blissfully.
“Fuck,” Your brows knitted together, a soft, restrained curse fell from your lips.
Then, he pulled his hand away.
Your eyes shot open again to meet his. He warned, “Don’t hold back from me now, baby.”
You nod as he pressed a little harder against you. You swear his hand is made of iron—hot, smooth metal that knows just how to perfectly work the most beautiful sounds from you.
As you writhe in the water, eyes squeezed shut with your mouth gaped open, Roy’s eyes remain on you.
“Someone’s gonna hear you, honey,” he presses his forehead against your temple. “They don’t deserve to.”
You instinctively lean against him, grinding your hips into his hand. The pads of his fingers drift down to your puckering hole, but no more than that.
“Please, Roy,” your hand reaches out of the water to curve around the back of his head, pushing his mouth closer to yours.
He chuckles. “I told you, you’d be begging for me.”
Then, like he was trying to make you cry, he pulled away and rose to his feet so he towered over you. His bottom lip, swollen from your kisses, hung heavy and glistened with your drool as Roy’s hands pulled his belt from the loops. It fell to the ground with a loud clatter, his jeans following soon after.
You stood from the tub and reached for him, your hands drifting down to the last thing covering him from you. And once he was fully bare, the two of you stood still for a moment.
Shamelessly, you drifted your gaze down his body, taking in what it was like to see Roy Goode in all of his glory.
Glorious was the right way to put it, for sure.
He smiled as he watched you scan him before taking your lip in between your teeth again.
“C’m’here,” he says softly, taking your hand in his.
You stepped out of the tub, dripping water on the wood floor. It’d surely leak through to the ceiling above the poor woman downstairs.
Before you could say anything, Roy’s mouth landed on yours again, his fingers running through the dry roots of your hair.
“Can’t get enough of you.” His words came out muffled and broken through the kiss.
“It’s yours,” you say, placing your hands on his chest and breaking the kiss. A small, gentle push has him settling on the floor, and you’re quick to take your seat on top of him.
His eyes softly close when your folds envelope his cock with an insatiable warmth.
“I’m yours. From the moment you showed me,” you relax and feel his solid shaft right under that swollen pearl. “Kindness when I did you wrong.” Your fingers lace with his. “I’m all yours, Roy. So take it.”
His right hand lifts your hips the slightest bit, allowing him space to take his cock in his left hand. He strokes it gently with a tight fist. The tip of it bumps against your hole, and you can feel it leaking against you.
“You ain’t real,” he whispers, eyes focused on where you two touch. And in a moment, you become connected. “Are you?”
One swift move of his hips pushes his full length past your folds. Your jaw drops open, but it’s the overwhelming feeling of him splitting you open that leaves you surprisingly quiet.
Roy doesn’t seem happy at that. He juts his hips upwards at a different angle so a sweet yelp cuts through the air. “Fuck, that’s good,.” He pulls you so close that your flesh nearly melts around the bone. You’re putty in his hands. “Pretty cunt’s grippin’ me like a vice.”
Everytime Roy’s hips draw from you, only to vigorously push themselves into you again, you swear you see God.
The skin on your knees splits against the splinters of the floorboards. A pleasurable pain. You steady yourself with your hands on his chest.
“‘S my turn, now,” your words slur together, eyelids heavy from how sweetly the tip of him kisses your cervix. “Gotta give you something too.”
He doesn’t object. His hands settle like a loose weight over your hips as you start to move yourself. Your hips grind against him, letting his cock rub against every inch inside of you. The motion is too familiar. For a second, you swear you’re riding off into the sunset with heaven in your pocket.
Your eyelids flutter close when you begin to bounce. And though you can’t see it, Roy can. His chest under your hands lets out heavy breaths as he gazes at how you swallow his entire length like it’s nothing.
But he knows it’s not. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he feels his body go loose. He lets himself give in to you. “Ride it.”
Gravity pushes you down just for you to lift yourself back up again. Your tits bounce in the most mesmerizing way, and Roy’s hand reaches up to grab the flesh of them. His thumb rolls over your nipple.
“You’re beautiful,” he grunts out, bending his legs so you can rest your back against them. But your movements don’t stop.
And neither does the way Roy looks at you like you’re the only thing worth living for.
When you catch his eyes on you, you clench around his girth, pulling another sharp moan from him. Suddenly, his hips begin to meet yours in a pleasurable rhythm; the sounds of skin slapping, heavy breaths, and your delicate yet guttural moans make the most beautiful music.
“Don’t stop, sweetheart,” Roy pleads.
Your mouth curls, “Who’s begging now?”
He chuckles. A soft tension around his cock grows into a desperate need to finish off how good you feel around him.
“You got it, baby.” His drawl leaves your hips stuttering, and he can tell from how you’ve tightened around him, you’re feeling just the same as him. “Make yourself feel good on it, just like that. Wanna see you turn to pieces all over me.”
Suddenly, your head is too heavy to hold upright. It lulls back onto your shoulders, all of your energy going towards the way you ride him.
“You feel it? Gonna make a mess for me?”
You nod, rapidly and loosely.
“We’ll just have to clean you up all over again.” He mutters to himself, and you can hear the smirk on his face. It stays there even as his brows furrow together, a mixture of bliss and pressure.
You feel the pad of his thumb press against your clit again. You instantly break at the contact. He feels your orgasm wash over him, a lush shower of warmth that brings his own release.
It mixes together inside of you like the sunrise bleeding into the remainder of the night outside your window. It’d be illogical to sleep now, but you can’t find it within yourself to keep your eyes open as your cheek rests against Roy’s chest.
His hand lazily rubs over your spine. “S’pose Les Moore will have to wait to die another day,” he whispers.
You chuckle, “Don’t waste your bullets on that man. I’ll do it myself.”
Roy cocks his head. A few days ago, you would’ve protested at any mention of doing his bidding. And here you were, now, ready to make yourself a wanted woman.
There were many women he’d slept with. Many women who’d opened their doors, shared their beds, held him in their arms. Many women who’d sing him to sleep thinking it’d make him maybe even love them.
And sure, he’d been with whores. He’d paid good money to see fine women dance like there was no God above. Maybe even paid them off enough so they wouldn’t have to suffer under any more men with a heavy fist.
Many women who’d liked the color of his eyes. Who’d gasped and shuddered at the sound of his name. Who’d fawned over the sight of him.
But never a woman like you.
He tells himself to remember that forever as he carries you to the bed.
You’ll wash in the morning he thinks when he pulls the covers to your chin. And when Roy moves to draw his own bath, he hears your tired voice from behind.
“Don’t go,” you call out to him.
He hums. “I’m only right here, darlin’.”
Your eyes are closed shut, lost in a dimension between sleep and wake. “Here,” you say softly, motioning to the spot in the bed next to you.
He ignores the sheer layer of sweat clinging to his skin. He ignores that there’s still dirt in his hair from earlier in the day. He ignores the grimy feeling underneath his nails and the ache in his feet. Roy carries himself to the side of the bed.
The sheets are cool against his skin as he takes the spot beside you. Then, he feels the warmth of your arm draped over his chest. He stills.
“You never held a woman, Roy Goode?” you tease with a tired smile.
“Sure, I have,” he says. “First time it’s felt right, though.”
You move your head so he can tuck his arm underneath it. He feels your soft, mindless clouds of breath against his skin.
His hips stutter, the rhythm messy now, almost frantic, like he’s trying to fuck the apology into you.
You've been fighting with him all night. Started small- he got blood on the floor. Got worse when he confessed exactly whose blood it was.
A young charming friend of yours. Sweet boy. You hardly knew him, but you knew enough. Enough to share a few drinks with him in the morning. Remmick would find out. He always finds out. You were lucky he didn't turn you the moment he considered you his own. His family. His. His. His.
"Come on, darlin’," he breathes against your ear, voice gravel-thick and cracking at the edges. "You’re not still mad at me, yeah? You can’t be. Not when I’m- mph- deep inside you like this."
He breathes hot in the crook of your neck- marks mottled on your delicate throat. A few puncture marks or two from his leftover anger, when he had you face down in the sheets. Now all that's left is his desperation.
You say nothing. Your nails bite into his shoulder, and the sharp pain only makes him moan, needy and almost pathetic.
“You’re killin’ me here,” he pants. “Won’t even look at me.” He grabs your jaw- rough and insistent, making you face him even though your glare could cut through steel. “Still got that damn attitude. Thought you were over this.” He scoffs, laughs light, like he can't believe what he's hearing. But his voice breaks.
You clench around him, and he groans like it hurts.
“Oh shit, yeah- do that again, I’ll do whatever you want. Beg if I gotta,” he growls, still thrusting hard, but his rhythm’s off, needy now. “Wasn’t tryin’ to hurt you, baby. You know that.”
You turn your face away again, and something cracks. Not in his voice- in his ego.
“You’re mine,” he spits, patience worn, pride bruised. “Look, I know I messed up," He grits out. "Yeah, I tore out his pretty little throat, but I’m here, ain’t I? Givin' you everything I got."
He's huffing, gripping you tighter when he remembers just why you two are in this predicament. You feel his claws tangle in your hair, tugging gently. Just to show you he needs you.
"Wanna know the best part?" he murmurs against your neck, lips ghosting along your skin. His voice shifting sweetly to that infuriating 'im-not-mad-just-disappointed' tone. "Got his blood under my fingernails still."
Then- without warning, he slips two fingers between your lips. Forces them in, until you're gagging around the metallic tang and sharp nails.
"Wanna taste?" He adds after the fact, sarcastic. One half bitter, one half pleased with himself.
You moan around them, eyes wide and watering. He’s still fucking you, deep and relentless, watching your face as you suck his fingers like it’s the only thing keeping you alive.
His hand slides down to your thigh, pulling it higher up his waist. The angle makes you gasp- he notices.
"Yeah? That feel good?" His lips brush your jaw, trembling. "Still mad, baby? Still hate me?" He growls out. Depraved.
You still don’t answer, but your glare is wiped- eyes rolled back into your skull. Back arched, soft whimpers around his fingers. He observes you, scans you over, and finally loosens his hold just a little.
"Please," he mutters, and it’s real this time- raw, low, like it’s costing him everything to say it. "Please, darlin’. I don’t wanna live in a world where you hate me. Don’t- don’t do that to me."
His pace slows, not stopping, just grinding deep and hard, and his lips press to your neck like a prayer.
"I’m yours, alright? Just say the word. I’ll crawl, beg, bleed. You want me on my knees? Say it. I’ll worship the ground you walk on. Forever." He pleads, hips stuttering as he tries to stop himself from cumming. As he tries to convince you this is for you.
Then, cocky again for half a second, he mutters against your neck- the one condition.
"Long as you keep stayin' with me. Just me. Just like this."
his hands were locked on your ass in a bruising grip, as he continues to rock back and forth inside of you. his face buried in your chest, slowly losing his mind, overwhelmed by how perfect you feel
you could've sworn he stopped breathing with the way his face was completely smushed between your breast. you bite your lip with a lop sided smile... but you didn't have much room to talk about him, with your own climax quickly approaching
he lets out a desperate moan and begins to pump faster, hitting that spot that makes you become light headed. your mouth widens as you throw your head back, chanting yes, yes, yes as you are brought to tears
with him still thrusting, you gather the energy to look down again, and are met with intense, electrifying eyes and a dark look, right before he releases inside with a groan. too far gone, he had completely lost all control
it was so powerful, the energy surged off of him, causing the power to go out all around you
you both froze in place, still in bed. slowly uncovering your faces, you cautiously looked around, assessing what had just happened
he knew before you did, swearing under his breath and plopping his head on your stomach in defeat with a huff. you had to cover your mouth to stifle the laugh that was inches away from bursting through. he was silent for a moment, already well aware that tomorrow he's going to get an ear full of this from... well... everyone
"its not funny" he said with that infamous frown
that just made you laugh harder
unable to resist, he cracked a smile himself, in disbelief
you two were in his dimly lit room sitting on his bed, with the house all to yourselves. you wore your favorite dress, excited to see him again. it started off with talking and a few jokes here and there. he removed his shoes and decided to lie down, your company alone putting him at ease. you asked if it was okay if you joined him, with the sitting position starting to become uncomfortable. he fixed his face to remain calm and gives you the green light, when he is actually freaking out on the inside. you lie down just a few inches from his face, & confess how comfortable you feel and how much you appreciate him. he says the same to you, letting you know how easy it is to talk to you & much you’ve helped with adjusting to his new life.. and that he couldn't have done it without you. you shake your head, knowing that isnt true… when you notice him leaning in closer. your heart quickens with your body temperature rising, when you slowly begin to move to meet him
the kiss starts gentle, becoming familiar with one another, not wanting to disrupt the peace of the moment. his lips are so soft, and with his gentle touches, its beginning to feed your desire for more. you apply more pressure with a moan, and that awakens his hunger. you run your hand thru his white tuft, & for gods sake its soft too.. eliciting a little moan from him. the tension is thick, it is clear you both have wanted each other for a long time now. you move your massaging hand down his abdomen. “i want you” your faint voice barely a whisper. his mouth is agape, his brain frying and failing, leaving him high and dry. by god does he want you too
noticing him frozen, you giggle and slowly lay him down on his back, making your way between his legs. he is halfway hard with precum gathering at the top. you kiss the tip, and he jerks slightly. using your tongue, you begin tracing the veins on his shaft, enjoying his suppressed little whines. he’s definitely starting to fully harden now. you begin to plant open mouth kisses from the base up before taking him in fully and sucking. he hisses, followed by an airy “fuck”. he lightly grabs the back of your head, every so often gripping your hair then releasing. after you’ve gotten him nice and lubed, you decided to take him all the down and swallow, which causes you to choke, just a little
shadow quickly removes you in a panic, swearing his soul left his body for a split second. “d-don’t” he heaves, and pauses for a moment “i won’t- you’re gonna make m-” its hard for him to get the room to stop spinning. its so cute seeing him a mess like this. but its a good thing he stopped you, because you weren’t finished yet. you nod and position yourself so that your back is facing him, lifting your dress and pulling your panties to the side. you look over your shoulder, “ready?” yes and no, he thought, squeezing his eyes shut & throwing his head back onto his pillow. you smiled and began to lower yourself onto him. thanks to your work from before, he slid inside with ease. he grips your hips, & with moans filling the room, you gently rock back and forth, feeling his prominent veins each time
rating: explicit. 18+ only.
length: 2,373
content: established relationship, fluff, smut [dry humping, receiving fingering, unprotected p in v, cockwarming], kink(s) [biting, scent, breeding]
summary: Jack's phases mirror the moon.
The moon reminds us that no matter how big or small, everything that can be seen has a cycle – a beginning and end, and everything in-between. For the moon it meant starting over anew each passing month, becoming brighter and brighter before fading into darkness – and even that was beautiful. For Jack Russell it meant forgetting oneself and becoming darker and darker, preparing for his next phase to commence and carry out so he could move on. No matter how much he disagreed, you always found it beautiful that he mirrored the moon.
The full moon was coming within a few days and as always Jack was spending as much time with you as he could before he had to disappear. He’d taken advantage of your day off work to spend time with you at home, cooking you one of his favorite meals and spending the day curled up on the couch with you, your fingers laced through his hair as your fingernails scratched lightly against his scalp. His mind had already begun to darken, the other him becoming louder and louder as the days went on, and it was only you that could satiate his roaring mind – even if it wasn’t completely.
Now, after a big dessert of peanut butter ice cream and brownies (chocolate made his stomach hurt), the two of you were wrapped up in one another in the comfort of your bed. Jack was trying to silence his mind still, a task that grew impossibly more difficult as he was surrounded by your scent – on the pillows and blankets, the pheromones seeping from you, the very air around him was filled with you in a way that was so impossible to ignore it was painful.
He shifted the position again, turning you to your side with your back to him. Wrapping an arm around your middle he pulled you back into him, resting his chin on your shoulder. His voice was low and rumbled through your back as he spoke. “Sorry amor, I am just…restless tonight.”
You placed a hand over his on your stomach lovingly, intertwining your fingers and raising his hand to press a kiss to his palm lightly. Focusing was even more difficult when you put your lips on him, a fact that was accentuated by the twitch of his cock in his sweatpants, all-too aware that you were only wearing a tank top and one of his pairs of boxers. Turning his head to tuck his nose behind your ear he inhaled deeply, a low groan vibrating in his chest. “It’s okay, Jackie,” you breathed out, repositioning your hands on your stomach. He pulled you in closer, his erection pressed between you. “It’s just…your instincts kicking in.”
“Yes, amor,” he breathed out, his voice barely above a growl. He pressed a kiss below your ear, a gesture that was supposed to be sweet and gentle and instead sent a flood of heat to your core, wetness leaking past your folds coming with it. You heard him take in a deep breath behind you, a quiet whimper lacing his exhale as your arousal now filled the air.
“What do…I smell like?” you pondered, his lips resting against your neck as he savored your scent. The question alone pulled another whine from him, having to speak about it somehow making it all worse.
“Sweet…so sweet, amor,” he breathed out, nibbling on your earlobe lightly and nestling himself back in closer to you.
He began to drag his waist against you slowly, his throbbing erection running through the line of your ass repeatedly as you feigned continued interest in the movie – in reality, he was all you could think about now. He moaned again quietly at the pressure before he added a bit more, grinding his waist into your backside as he released a desperate breath.
“So listen to them,” you whined, his hand on your stomach sliding away from yours to cup one of your breasts in his hand. He gave the tender flesh a firm squeeze, his thumb rubbing over the hardened nipple before he placed another kiss beneath your ear.
“Cannot, amor…it is too dangerous this close to the full moon,” he breathed, dragging his lips down your neck slowly, swiping his tongue across your shoulder delicately. “I don’t want…instincts to take over too much and me to hurt you.”
To make your point, you rubbed your ass back into him, pulling a quiet gasp and a moan from his as his hand gripped your breast tighter. “But I need you.”
Your quiet whimpering nearly shattered his resolve completely, his hand leaving your breast to slide back down your stomach and dance along the waistband of the boxers you were wearing. You felt that he was sniffing the air to flood his senses with you some more in deep breaths against your neck, and while it used to embarrass you, now it only caused more of your arousal to leak down your thighs. After months you’d never gotten this close to Jack fucking you with the full moon so few days away, but based on his reminders every month as to how volatile he could be during this time…the prospect only interested you more and more.
“Maybe it would help if you…if you talked about it. Tell me how you feel,” you whimpered as he slipped his hand further into the loose fabric, swiping his fingers through the slickness between your folds slowly. He removed his hand then, raising it up toward his face to inhale deeply before popping his fingers into his mouth, presumably running his tongue around them as he now rubbed his cock against your ass again.
“It makes me feel…primal,” he breathed out when he released his fingers, immediately returning them to your soaked folds to tease your entrance slightly again, still teetering on the edge of restraint. “Like I need to just…mount you. And take you.”
His middle finger slipped into you then, the subtle thickness of the digit stretching you slightly and pulling a moan from you. He pressed his lips against your shoulder again before he dragged them upward, nibbling into the flesh on your neck, a feat that took more restraint than he really had currently. You pressed back into him as he curled his finger into you, his name falling from your lips. He nibbled into the sensitive spot beneath your ear before whispering in a low growl. “And all of me wants you. Not just half.”
You reached behind yourself to rub your hand over the tent in his sweatpants, earning a quiet groan from him as he bit into your neck a little harder than intended. Instead of crying out like he expected you moaned louder, giving his bulge a squeeze to encourage him to keep going, still expecting him to stop at any moment. Instead, he added a second finger, pumping them into you in the way that always had you melting beneath him within minutes. Finding your breath before you lost yourself you gave one final show of desperation, one final verbal plea before you came undone.
“Jack, please, I trust you, I know you…please.”
He released a deep breath then, the symbol of the thread holding him together snapping as he rolled you to your stomach and pulled the boxers down your legs, knuckles brushing along your skin as he went. When they were discarded away from the bed he removed his own sweatpants, one of his hands kneading into your ass appreciatively as he decided to test his strength.
When he’d freed himself of clothing he leaned forward, trailing kisses up your spine before nipping at your shoulder. One of his hands grasped one of your thighs, encouraging you to slide that leg higher. He took position, straddling your thigh that remained straightened as he fisted himself. You twisted your torso to look back at him with a hooded gaze, your cheeks flushed and glowing simultaneously.
He began to rub his cock lightly, sliding his hand from your ass cheek down to your leaking core to spread your folds and inhale another deep breath. Shaking his head to steady himself he leaned forward, running the head of his cock through your folds with a low groan. Unable to hold himself back more he thrust his hips forward, burying into you to the hilt as he rested his arms on the mattress on either side of your shoulders.
“Que rico…” he moaned as you whined, this angle offering him the perfect entry to hit against your front wall and the sensitive patch behind your clit. When the head of his cock slowly massaged against the spot your walls clenched around him, pulling a deep growl from his chest as your hips raised off the bed slightly. One of his hands left the mattress, holding your waist to keep your hips raised so he could withdraw from you and enter again at this angle. When you cried out his name he leaned forward, pressing several kisses across your shoulders.
He fucked into you relentlessly then, setting a quick pace of perfectly timed thrusts that caressed every inch of you. His thrusts were deep and bruising, his teeth repeatedly biting into your neck and shoulder as he finally gave into his instincts for you.
“Oh, fuck, Jack,” you whimpered on a particularly deep thrust, his teeth finally breaking skin slightly – far from the first time that had happened and certainly nothing new to either of you. “You…you’re doing so good…”
The praise released a growl from his chest, his pace picking up harder and faster as his nails dug into your hips, his tongue lapping up the tiniest bit of blood he’d pulled from your shoulder to soothe the small wound before pressing a kiss to it. He kissed your upper back then, straightening back up to pull you onto your hands and knees, pounding into you relentlessly.
“I can smell that you are ovulating, princesa,” he breathed out, slowing his thrusts slightly so he could focus on his words. “It makes me…crazy. It makes me want to breed you. I know that’s a crass way to say it, but, it is what I feel…” When you only moaned his name in reply, he took it as a sign that you didn’t mind his confession. “Makes me want to fill you over…and over…and over…”
His words trailed off as the solitary thrusts between words became too little, fucking you harder as you began to find it difficult to support yourself. Sensing your difficulty, he turned you over to lay on your back, hooking one of your ankles up over his shoulder so he could watch his cock disappear into your hot channel and witness the face of bliss that came along with it. Taking advantage of your parted lips he leaned down to kiss you, claiming your mouth with his tongue in a heated kiss as he thrusted harder into you, grunts leaving his mouth with each one. When he’d had his fill of kissing you – for now – he pulled away just as he connected a thumb to your clit, smiling at the way you threw your head back with a moan.
“That’s what you want, cariño? For me to leave you with a womb full of my cum before I go?” he taunted and offered, rubbing fervent circles around your swollen nub to coax you closer to orgasm. “Tell me if it is and I will give it to you.”
You attempted to nod, opening your eyes to gaze into his only to be met by the sight of him shaking his head before he leaned his forehead against yours. He needed to hear it from you, a task that was daunting when all you felt capable of was screaming. “Yes, Jack,” you finally managed, nodding your head again for emphasis. “That’s what I want – that’s what I need. Please fill me.”
Your soft whimpers and moans and the way you asked so nicely for him to stake the most primal claim on you he desired unleashed him fully, his thrusts becoming desperate as he trailed kisses to your chest, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and suckling. You raised your hips from the bed to offer him better access which he gladly accepted, feeling your walls begin to clench around him. While neither of you were particularly holding yourselves back from moaning, or grunting, or growling, the noises were almost drowned out by the sounds of your bodies coupling – his balls slapping against you with each thrust and your slick heat accepting him with the most venereal of symphonies.
Within moments full of quiet appreciation and compliments from him in his native tongue he had pushed you over the edge, your vision clouding as you allowed his name to leave as a cry from your lips, a sound he took as prayer. With a few more thrusts of his own, now deliciously slick thanks to your orgasm, his hips stilled with a particularly hard thrust as he spilled his load into you, growling as he lifted his head once more to kiss you hard enough to bruise.
When you’d both spent, he encouraged you back onto your side, nestling behind you again and sliding his softening cock back into your now cum-filled channel to keep warm. He buried his face into the side of your neck, pressing gentle kisses into the various bite marks he’d left within his reach as he wrapped his arms around you fully. He felt your heart rate and breathing slow and knew you approached sleep, so he pressed one more kiss behind your ear before whispering.
“I am sorry if I wake you up soon to fill you again, amor.”
He didn’t need to be sorry, and you told him so before nestling against him more, resting your hands over his as you whispered quiet “goodnights”. Just as you’d known, nothing had gone wrong, and now you had confirmation of what you had felt all along -- all of Jack’s phases were just as beautiful as each of the moons.
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rating: explicit. 18+ only.
length: 1,857
content: established relationship, smut [receiving fingering, unprotected p in v], kink(s) [biting, marking, breeding]
summary: there's something Jack has wanted, and you convince him to finally give in.
“I do not know, amor…” he breathed against the sensitive area where your neck and shoulder meet, his lips brushing against the skin there as he spoke. Unable to help himself he ran his tongue along the area toward your neck before lightly dragging his teeth back down, stopping himself before he went too far – like he had done so many times now. He was old enough to have control of himself, the hundreds of years shaping him into a patient man – and yet still not in-control enough to trust his instincts around you. “What if I hurt you?”
The quiet whine to his tone brought a little smile to your lips, a shaking breath slipping from your lips as you felt his tongue and teeth lavish your skin. It was often he explored areas of your body this way – his tongue followed by the slow, barely-there drag of his teeth. Often the movements were focused on your thighs and neck, but the area he seemed fixated on today was one of your favorites, a fact he was well aware of. When you found your response your words had a subtle shake to them, his affection always pushing you to the brink before he’d even undressed you.
“I don’t think you will, baby,” you cooed, turning your head to press a gentle kiss to his temple. You raised a hand to rest on the back of his head, entangling your fingers in his hair and scratching your nails against his scalp in the way that always made him putty in your hands. “Besides, it’s supposed to hurt a little.”
A soft laugh fell from his lips and into your skin, a soft kiss placed delicately repeatedly as he pondered your words. Turning his head he trailed gentle kisses up your neck, inhaling the familiar mixture of your scent and his mingling to ground himself further. Even after all this time with you, and the security you’d established between the two of you, and the fact you always smelled somewhat like him these days, too – Jack Russell still worried he’d lose control and lose you forever. This was precisely the reason why no matter how badly he wanted to, no matter how loudly his instincts screamed for him to do so, he would not give into his deepest desire to sink his teeth into you for fear of something inside him snapping.
But it was getting harder as time went on, and he was testing the strength of the thread that held him together more often by running his teeth along your skin, by savoring how you tasted with a swipe of his tongue. Trailing his kisses to your jaw and to your forehead he leaned back on his knees in the bed, taking in how beautiful you looked with your cheeks flushed with arousal for him. Finely tuned senses allowed him to cherish the quickened pace to your heart, as his eyes met yours, his head moving in a firm – still uncertain – nod.
“Just a little bite, amor…just one and I will have it out of my mind,” he promised, though whether the reassurance was meant for you or himself was uncertain. You couldn’t withhold the smile that spread across your face as you nodded, your movements far more relaxed and tranquil, your eyes holding no concern. His heart tightened at your expression, knowing you trusted him with your entire life gave him some level of reassurance he often couldn’t provide himself with. “But I want to be inside you when I do it…want to be connected to you.”
He moved to sit rested against the headboard then, using a firm grasp on your waist to pull you onto his waist carefully. Both of you in your underwear alone there was very little fabric separating your hot core from him, the wetness already pooling between your legs seeping through the thin fabric. It was second nature now to rock your hips against his, a quiet moan swallowed from your lips swallowed by him as he crashed his lips back to yours. Desperate and starved as it was, there was also a deep passion to the kiss; something so deeply lovely as you sought to impart to one another how much the other meant to you.
His hands reached to gently massage your breasts first, eager as he was, he would never take advantage of the intimacy you offered him by hurrying it along to reach the finale faster. Warm thumbs brushed over already hardened nipples lightly before he claimed the buds in between his fingers, rolling them carefully to pull another moan from you. His tongue slipped between your lips the moment it could, a groan of his own rumbling in his chest as you rocked your hips against his again.
Giving you a chance to breathe he released you from the kiss, immediately lowering his head to run his tongue across one of your peaked nipples lightly before taking as much of your breast as he could into his mouth, sucking on the flesh as he pressed his growing erection into your core. As he sucked his tongue swirled again, another groan sounding in his chest as you ground down against him pointedly – it could be a conversation for another time about why your tit in his mouth made him throb.
Alternating his attention to your other breast he slipped a hand downward, opting to simply push the soaked fabric of your underwear to the side so he could run his fingers through your folds. Removing his mouth from your chest he turned his gaze downward to watch his fingers disappear up into you, his fingers slipping into your wet heat with ease thanks to how wet you were.
“Dios mío…all this for me, amor…” he murmured, leaning to connect his lips to yours again as he began to pump his fingers into you. His free hand disconnected from your waist to work his underwear down his thighs to free his straining cock. When he was content with the work his fingers had done, he removed his hand from your core, using the juices of your arousal on his hand to slicken his cock with a brief pump.
Lining himself up at your entrance he moaned when you began to lower yourself onto him, your hot, tight channel accepting inch by inch of him perfectly as a gasp fell from your lips. Gripping your waist again he held you steady, guiding you down on his cock slowly as quiet praises fell from his lips in Spanish. When he was completely sheathed he stilled, allowing you a moment to adjust to him again and steady yourself with hands against his chest.
When you began to ride him, working yourself up and down on his cock he released a pleasured sound of his own, his hands gripping you tight enough to potentially break skin with his nails. His lips found yours again, slotting against yours in a desperate kiss which you greedily returned, movements intentional but already picking up pace in desperation. A deep rumbling growl sounded in his chest, the animalistic sound only causing you to grind down against him particularly slow, enjoying the somewhat feral way Jack responded to you.
Eventually his hips began to thrust upward to meet your movements, grunts leaving his mouth in time with each hammering of his cock against your cervix, matching the high-pitched moans that left your mouth for him. He rolled suddenly, keeping his cock inside you as he went. One he pinned you on your back and you’d situated your legs around his waist he began to pump into you again, one of his hands grasping one of yours and lifting it above your head as he kissed you breathless again.
He fucked into you with the utmost reverence, his passionate kisses and sweet words only adding to the burn that was building deep in your stomach, your release approaching with the signal of your shaking thighs. He halted the kiss he’d initiated then, leaning his sweat-slickened forehead against yours as he slowed his thrusts slightly, dragging his hips against yours infuriatingly slow to dangle you over the edge. His voice was a tone you savored, every word rumbling through his chest with a quiet growl as he spoke.
“If you are still sure, amor…” he began, giving your hand a light squeeze. “I will take my one bite as you cum for me.”
You could only nod, lost in the colors of his eyes as you raised your hips to his, desperate for his movements to return. With a deep breath he began to move his kisses down your neck again, mapping his way to a spot he’d actually picked long ago. When his lips found the desired spot, one he’d already gifted with kisses moments before, he first ran his tongue over the spot, choosing that moment to begin his perfect thrusts into you again.
As he built you close to the edge again, focusing his thrusts to rub the head of his cock against the spongey, sensitive patch within you, his mouth played delicate attention to his chosen spot. Soon enough he had your thighs shaking again, quiet words of encouragement spilling through his lips in between kisses and licks and tiny, experimental nibbles. Overwhelmed by physical and mental bliss you could only signify the oncoming of your finish by giving his hand a squeeze, your walls beginning to tighten around him. With a nod he began to bite down into the spot, that deep, rumbling groan sounding in his chest again.
As your orgasm rushed through you and your walls squeezed him impossibly tighter his teeth sank further, his own release washing over him as he spilled his seed into you – something he’d no doubt apologize for after, despite how it made you moan louder. Squeezing his hand tighter and quietly whispering his name he tasted the lightest familiar metallic taste in his mouth. Realizing this was his cue to stop he immediately did, his only thought your continued bliss as he ran his tongue over the bite gently.
As you came down from your shared bliss, he pressed the gentlest of kisses to the bruising bite mark, his eyes happily fixated on his mark against your skin. When he opted to withdraw his cock from you, he kept his arms around you, rolling only to his side and maintaining his closeness to you. He pressed a sheepish kiss to your lips, enjoying the way you curled closer to him as he brought a blanket over the two of you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before lowering his head once again, pressing another gentle kiss to the mark he’d left before claiming your lips again briefly. When he spoke, his voice was free of the earlier anxiety it had carried, his intrusive thoughts satiated and silenced, if only for a moment.
“Muchas gracias, hermosa…” he thanked you quietly before burying his face in your hair, entangling your legs together as the two of you drifted off to sleep.
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werewolf by night masterlist.
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