Summary: When Micah invites you to visit him after all these years, you do so, even though you know you’ll reject whatever he has planned for you.
But there’s no harm in saying goodbye? Even if somebody else joins in?
Pairing: Micah Bell x f!Reader
Word Count: 1807
Rating: NSFW
Tags: Reunion sex, Pre-epilogue, Strawberry, Porn with a plot, Former lovers, Reader is Micahs ex, Fluff, Angst, Work in progress.
Notes: YAY another chapter!! Dutch will be in the next&final chapter. This was meant to be just a small micah/reader/dutch fic but old mikey is my fave so I couldn’t help but drag this out
Chapter 1&2
It's funny to think that this time last week, your mind was clear and peaceful, perfectly balanced whilst you get on with your normal, civilised life. The only thing you'd been worked up about was an odd customer who caused more of a fuss than necessary, but within a day, your mind became so thick and clouded, swarming with memories of your former lover and far too many questions on what was going to happen.
You wanted to show him what he was missing, as petty as that can be. You wanted to storm up that mountain and push him off it after screaming at him for ruining everything all those years ago. You don't hold onto that vendetta as much as you thought you did, clearly not at all since you allowed Micah to fawn over you and pull you close, eventually pulling you down with him into his bed.
Tender is currently the perfect word to describe him, not the word most people would use when talking about Micah Bell, but a word you take pleasure in using as you've been the only person to ever see Micah with his walls down. His touch on you was so gentle, you almost couldn't feel his hands as he slowly undressed you, his rough fingertips trailing over the goosebumps on your skin as he pulled you over to his bunk bed.
"Still ain't used to the cold?" Micah had commented as he joined you under the covers after kicking off his pants, leaving a trail of both his and your clothes leading over to his bed.
"Course not, I've never liked the cold," you told him, watching Micah roll on top of you, pinning you down to the bed.
"I still remember how much you complained when we were stuck in Colter. Least you had me to keep you warm, hm?" Micah replied, dipping his head down to kiss along your neck. His kisses trailed down your body, licking a stripe across your collarbone before moving down over your breasts.
Micah took his time exploring both of them, trailing his tongue over your nipples, sucking and kneading at them gently, humming in satisfaction at the short mewls and whimpers you had let out. You were about to tell him off for teasing you until he'd continued to move his head further south, disappearing under the duvet and settling between your thighs.
And that's where you find yourself at now, letting out a moan that sends a chill down your own spine. You've been with others since Micah but no man has ever quite hit the nail perfectly on its head, no man seems to be able to make you whimper and whine the way Micah has, and you know that if you tell him that, it'll keep his ego fed for the rest of his life.
Micahs hands wrap around each of your thighs, holding your legs apart as he begins to lap at your cunt. You're instantly thankful that he decided to trim his facial hair short before seeing you, remembering how irritating his beard used to itch against your skin. He's slow at first, flattening his tongue and slowly licking across your pussy. Either he's teasing you or savouring the taste, maybe both? But Micahs tongue eventually moves up to your clit, flicking the tip of his tongue over the bud.
You could have sworn you heard him let out a chuckle as your thighs begin to shake; he knows far too well what he's doing, remembering exactly how you like it. He moves back down your cunt again, slipping his tongue into your pussy and fucking you with it, whilst one of his hands moves from your thigh to rub your clit with the pad of his thumb.
His name escapes your lips and Micah stops for a brief moment, only to tell you "My name always sounds so damn good coming from those pretty lips of yours."
He grips onto your thigh again, moving his tongue back up to return to your clit, sucking and lapping at your bundle of nerves. The room no longer feels cold, despite the hole in the ceiling letting in a slight draft. Your body is border lining breaking out a sweat, your cheeks a vibrant red, heat radiating off them as Micah continues his tenderness between your legs.
"Since when were you such a giver?" you softly tease, your eyes falling shut, head lying comfortably on the pillow.
"Very funny," you overhear Micah mumble from under the duvet.
Micah lets out a grumble as he begins making his way up from under the duvet, gasping for air dramatically; it's nice to see that his character hasn't changed. "S'hot under there," he tells you as he wipes your juices from around his mouth with the back of his hand, his other hand holding himself up over you.
You shuffle up onto your elbows, nuzzling into the curve of his neck to leave a few kisses there. The feeling of his hair not being in the way is so foreign to you; you already miss playing with it, and the faces Micah made whenever you tugged it a little too hard.
Whilst Micah is distracted with you kissing his neck, you reach down between his legs to wrap your hand around his cock, pumping his shaft slowly before lining him up with your entrance. You know you don't need to say anything but you let out a soft "please," against Micah's ear, knowing how dizzy the small gesture is making him feel.
Micah lets out a sigh before replying "with pleasure." He slowly moves his hips forward, pushing his cock into you. Micah almost chokes on a deep breath he takes as his cock slides inside of you, his eye scrunching shut for a brief moment before meeting yours. A soft kiss is placed on your lips whilst one of his hands gently holds onto your shoulder, pushing you back down onto the bed.
You lie back, reaching out to pull the duvet up to Micahs shoulders, keeping both of you warm, trapping your shared body heat under the quilt. Micah shifts his weight down onto his elbow, his body propped over yours whilst his other hand holds onto your thigh, fingertips trailing against your hipbone as you wrap your legs around his waist.
Micah lets out another satisfied hum, kissing your nose then your forehead, and finally, he begins to roll his hips. He's gentle to begin with, his cock slowly sliding in and out of you, almost as if Micah's getting used to the feeling of being inside of you again. Micahs lips find your neck, returning your gesture as he kisses along your skin, not covering you in marks for once. Maybe it's because you're no longer his? He used to adore covering you in signs to show you were taken, almost in a feral and predatory kind of way, but you'd leave just as many marks on his skin.
You begin to moan again when Micah starts slamming his cock into you, panting against the curve of your neck, his grip on your thigh getting tighter by the second. "Still so tight," Micah grumbles against you, his facial hair tickling over your neck as he returns to kissing it.
Although Micahs thrusts are quick and hungry, slamming his cock into you like the deprived old man he is, there's something pure and wholesome about the way he's holding you; Micah still has that look in his eye from earlier, the look of a man who is so engulfed in lust, yet so lonely at the same time. You can barely keep your eyes on his, wanting to enjoy this moment rather than letting your memories of him cloud your thoughts.
Micah moves his hand off your thigh to cup your jawline, his fingertips eventually moving back to hold the back of your head, entangling in your hair. He slows down ever so slightly so he can kiss you, his lips worshipping yours, the taste of your cunt faint on his lips. Tongues are introduced and your head begins to feel dizzy as you pull him down against you more, not realising how much you've been craving your former lover.
Micah breaks the kiss to politely ask "Where d'you want me to finish?"
"Inside," you sigh against his lips, and you feel his body shiver at your response.
"You sure?" Micah checks with you again.
"Mhmm," you say with a nod, moving your hand down your body, settling on your clit and rubbing it firmly.
Micah moves his hand from the back of your head; it slides beneath you, grabbing firmly on your ass, pulling your hips up slightly so Micah has a better angle to thrust into you. He returns to his quick pace from before, his mouth remaining parted as he moans and groans, letting out sounds that you didn't realise you'd missed until now.
Your orgasm begins to neer and Micah notices it's close from the way you begin to squirm beneath him. "So pretty," Micah comments. "Go on, sweetheart. Ladies first," Micah tells you, politely staring down at you. He licks his lips at the sight of you cumming, and groans when you pant his name, your head rolling back onto the pillow and your eyes fluttering shut.
Your legs wrap around Micahs waist unintentionally, your body taking control of itself, but it gives Micah the perfect opportunity to slam down into you, milking your orgasm and earning his own. He lets out a choked moan as he cums, his body falling limp and pressing against yours. "Shit," Micah groans as he buries his face in the curve of your neck, the thin layer of sweat on his forehead sticking to your skin.
Both of you spend a few moments just holding each other, catching your breaths as Micah curls up against your chest. He eventually slips himself from you, rolling off you and settling down beside you. Instantly, Micahs hands are on you again, manhandling you softly, pulling you into his embrace so he can cuddle you to sleep.
A large part of you wants to say something, anything, but words fail you and Micahs does too. It's not long before you fall asleep in his arms, your cheek pressed against his grey chest hair, arms wrapped tightly around his body. Micah places a kiss to your forehead before nuzzling against you, treasuring this affectionate moment, certain it'll be the last he receives in his life.
Sleep eventually finds him but only because he feels comfortable enough to sleep. Insomnia hasn't left him over the years that you've been gone, but Micah still finds just the right amount of comfort in you to somehow forget about his problem, just for tonight.
Speaking of old man Micah would you be interested in writing a one shot where he reunites with his s/o from the gang? Either pre epilogue or during the epilogue, whatever prompt inspires more!
SORRY this ask also drowned in my inbox, but I managed to fish it out!!
Wouldn’t it be a shame if you escaped just before it all kicked off at Beaver Hollow? And had to rely on what the papers told you to piece together what happened? Do you think Micah would ever tell you the truth? I think not.
Gender-neutral reader!
This isn't the first time you've been robbed, or attempted to be robbed. Being a gun for hire isn't too bad of a job, especially with your gunslinging background. Sure, you've had many close encounters with bullets, but you're trigger happy and this job satisfies your urges.
You're riding through Big Valley, accompanying a stagecoach of fancy folk heading from Blackwater. They wanted to take a more scenic route to Valentine, so they were being driven through one of the prettiest plains that New Handover has ever seen.
It was no surprise when a bunch of no goods jumped out from the trees, demanding you stopped and handed them everything they had. You're outnumbered, yes, but these men looked weak - skinny and infested, their skin red and itchy, malnourished. That's probably why they were hoping their posse number would scare you, but it didn't.
"Come on now, just hand it over. No need for folk to get shot," one of them tells you.
"The only folk gettin' shot here is you. Put your guns down, little boy," you tell him, your pistols at the ready. The driver is also pointing his shotgun.
"Little boy?" he laughs. "You better watch that mouth else I'll put it to better use," he snickers.
"You ever seen someone get their tongue cut out before? It's real nasty, and I'd be happy to show ya," you tell him.
You overhear a few more gang members approaching from horseback behind you, though they seemed to have stopped a little further out from the group. The lockbox on the back of the coach seems safe, for now.
"I think this ones itchin’ for a fight, boys," you overhear one of the men behind you say. And his voice seems... familiar. He sounds like he has flem and tobacco stuck in his throat and has given up on trying to get it out.
You keep your head forward.
"I've got twelve bullets here, boys. More than enough for each of ya."
"And we've got a lot more than that, sweetheart," another man from behind you says. This time you have to look, that voice rings a very loud bell, and you can already feel your heart sinking and your stomach turning.
You slowly look over your shoulder, guns still at the ready, pointing forward, but you subconsciously lower them slightly as you figure out who that voice belongs to.
"Micah?" you question, eyes meeting his, or one of his. There's a very distinct scar over his left eye, starting at his nose and trailing above his brow. He still wears that same white hat, and a brown leather coat that you haven't seen since you were huddled up in Colter with him, all those years ago.
"Hello, sweetheart," Micah greets you, trotting his mount forward slowly and stopping beside you. He looks up at you before dismounting, standing below the carriage. "You gonna come down from there and greet me properly?" Micah asks you, offering his hand.
"You tell your men to put their guns away first. I'm on the job, Micah," you tell him.
"You heard ‘em. Guns away, we is lettin' this lot go," Micah orders them in a raised voice.
"Let them go?" Joe huffs, scowling forward at Micah. You knew it was him! Still as ugly as you remember.
"You heard me, didn't ya? Let them go."
"Fine," Joe spits, holstering his guns. The rest of Micahs men follow, along with yourself, though the driver keeps his shotgun on his lap.
"Well?" Micah asks as he looks up at you, flexing his hand as it's still raised, waiting for you. You take it, your gloved hands meeting his for the first time in years. He helps you down from the carriage, a soft smile on his lips. He still has the same mustache, though his hairs are almost fully grey. His length has gone, his hair short and swept back, and it surprisingly suits him.
"Been a while, ain't it?" Micah asks you, his hand still in yours.
"It has," you tell him.
"I went looking for you, you know," Micah informs you. You had escaped before the disaster went down, helping Tilly and Mary-Beth escape in the back of Pearson's wagon. After that, you headed back West, trying to get far away from that mess. You saw in the newspaper that Arthur had been killed by Pinkertons, the gang was no more, and everybody had gone their separate ways.
"I heard the Pinkertons finally caught up to y'all," you tell him. "Did you ever find out who the rat was?" you ask.
Micah lets out a long sigh before telling you "I'm afraid we didn't, sweetheart. Guess we'll never know," he shakes his head.
"Real shame. I was lookin' forward to cuttin' their balls off."
You feel Micahs hand tighten slightly around yours. He takes your other hand in his, raising them up to his chest tenderly.
"Where is you holdin' up? I don't wanna keep you from doin' your job so I'll pop by. Gotta let these fine folk get to wherever they're headin'," Micah says, sending a fake smile over to the strangers in the back of the stagecoach.
"Here, actually. A little cabin just up in the trees over there," you tell him as you point down towards the valley.
"How strange. I been roaming these parts for a while now and I ain't ever seen no sign of you," Micah says.
"I spend most of my time on the road, workin' and all that," you shrug. "I'll be back in a few days. Why don't you pop by in a weeks time?" you ask.
"Course. I'll be there, sweetheart," Micah smiles. "Now, I ain't gonna keep you away from your job any longer," Micah tells you as his thumbs stroke over the back of your hands, still pressed against his chest.
"You better not," you joke. "You get goin' now, and take your men with you," you tell him, letting go of his hands so you can climb back up onto the coach.
"Of course. Anythin' for you, darlin'," Micah says as he climbs onto the back of his mount. "I'll be seeing you soon," he smiles.
Micah gives you one last look before riding off, his men in tow, the sound of hooves heavy as they echo through the valley. The stagecoach driver doesn't say anything, he just gives the reigns a whip and you're back on your way.
That warm feeling remains in your stomach for the rest of your journey, accompanying you as you ride back to your homestead, and it gets even warmer when you see Micahs horse already hitched up outside. It's no surprise that he probably picked the lock and snuck in, but you don't mind. That's Micah for you.
