Imma Definitely Need More Bc Mo Washington Has My Ass Going Feralllll, I Need Her So Bad

Imma definitely need more bc Mo Washington has my ass going feralllll, I need her so bad

Middle of Nowhere

Mo Washington X Black!FreedWoman!Reader

A/N: I know I have other things to write chile, but Surrounded was so good, I had to show Mo some love. I hope y'all enjoy. Let me know how yall feel about it! Thanks for reading - Ro <3 Here we goooooo

P.S: Mo’s character is religious which is why I decided to use that in the story! Just forewarning youuuuuuuuhopeyouenjoywhetheryourereligiousornotuuuuuuuuu!

Oh, there she stood…pride being the only thing she can count on at this very moment. Covered in blood and sweat, defeat doing a dance across her brow. Dust covering her slacks and a mud stained face. Her chest rose and fell with caution, aggressively taunting her knees to give in but she wouldn’t let them budge. “Can I help ya, sir?” you call out, keeping your distance. You had absolutely no idea what she was capable of. Her eyes slowly come out of hiding from beneath her hat, and your breath catches itself into the air and holds. “A woman?” You whisper to yourself. You weren’t simple minded, knowing that a woman that has disguised herself in such a way had a good reason. “What’s ya name, baby?” Your words made her feel an ease that she has yet to feel, well…ever. Her silence was cold, the heat of the sun outside battling with her glare at you but you kindly smile in hopes of earning a response. 

“I have some shelter for you. You wanna come with me?” You almost whisper the question, slowly easing toward her. “Please, I won’t hurt ya.” You jump back slightly, her flinching being the reason. This poor chile was terrified, but you were determined to help her. 

“...I can walk on my own.” She rasps out, stumbling a bit toward you. You step back with caution, but your face never showed any signs of fear or intimidation. “Alright, come on now.” You guide her to your small home out in the middle of nowhere, she carried nothing but a gun on her hip and a furrowed brow that seemed as though it was permanently etched into her face. Those eyes said something different though. 

“Here we are, this my home.” You tell her proudly. She whispers a soft “thank you” sitting down in the wooden chair next to your dining table. “What’s a woman like you, doin’ out here all by herself.” She asked, a smirk daring to appear. “I could ask you the same thing.” You chuckle and she lifts an eyebrow at you. “Was I supposed to pretend not to know, miss?” She huffs through her nose, mimicking a subtle snarl at your question. You kneel down next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “May I?” Your polite smile brought a comfort into her that she couldn’t quite comprehend. God must want me to be here, so here I’ll be. She thinks, her eyes never leaving yours. She read many things about angels in the bible, but Lord forgive her if she was a bit skeptical of seeing one face to face. God always had a way of making a believer out of her. 

She nods, and you pull her jacket from her small frame revealing a blood spattered vest. Your breath hitches at the sight and you refrain from asking if it was hers. “What’s ya name?” You ask her, that furrowed brow still present on her face. “Mo… Mo Washington.” She says, you smile at her in gratitude for her sliver of trust that developed out of thin air. “Mo…Washington.” You repeat slowly. Somehow, Mo’s brow relaxed at the sound of your voice saying her name. “Well Mo Washington, let's get you out of these filthy clothes.” You say, reaching for her vest buttons. She quickly grabs you by the hand, the cold glare returning with a hint of fear in her eyes. She releases your hand, removing the vest herself along with the shirt underneath it. The shirt rests on her shoulders, hesitating to remove it, Mo stares back at you. 

“I-I’ll get ya some towels, I see the wound on ya shoulder.” You mumble, scrambling to your feet. You grab your towels and head back to where Mo sat, slouched over, holding her hands together in silent prayer. You wait patiently and quietly for her to finish her talk with God. You began to talk with him on your own. Lord, why you send this woman to me? Out of all the places you could’ve put her, you placed her in front of me. Your eyes never closed, you watched her as you both held two separate conversations with the only deity believed to set the both of you free. “You know it ain’ nice to stare while I’m praying, Miss…” She lifts her head, shifting her gaze from the floor to you. “Y/N…just Y/N.” you say, finally walking over to her and handing her the towels. It felt good to see another free woman such as yourself. It didn’t feel as good to see said freed woman so battered and worn. You find yourself taking in her features and she lets you while she tends to her wounds. “C-can I get you something to eat, Miss Washington?” You ask, she nods and you shuffle nervously over to retrieve some food for her. You sit it in front of her, taking a seat across from her. “You can sleep in the bed with me. You won’t mind will ya?” Your soft tone raises the heat in Mo’s cheeks. “It’s better than the col’ ground.” She chuckles shyly, taking a bite of her food. 

“How you get this place? You kill somebody, run away?” She asks, you stare back at her in silence. “I built it. My own bare hands. It ain’t much, but it’s mine. Bought the wood with what I had from sharecropping and built this way out here.” You explained, it took you what felt like centuries to build this home, in the middle of nowhere where no one could disturb nor take away your freedom. Now in walks Mo, right into your territory, wandering angrily with a vendetta against herself. What you didn’t know is that your voice made her forgive herself instantly, because everything she had done to survive led her to this very moment with you. An ease in her body and mind personified, taking the shape of you. “Miss Washington, whatchu doin’ out here?  There’s no town for miles, how you end up here?” Your question made Mo shift her posture. 

“Had to defend myself, white boys thought they could pull a fast one on me. Took off as fast as I could in any direction, hopin’ the good Lord would let me get from there to anywhere safe.” Her answer has you in awe, your eyes go to the gun that rested on the table and back to her. “And that he did…” Mo sighs in relief and it compels you to stand, walking toward her, you kneel in front of her, helping her re-button her shirt. She allows you into her space and you take a mental note of her newly found gentleness. You peer up at her and lean closer to her face. She meets you halfway, your lips joining together and closing the gap between you two. When the two of you disconnect, your gazes at each other falters a bit. Your sweet smile makes an appearance yet again, and she grins back at you. 

“Come on, Miss Washington. You look like you could use some rest.” you whisper. You guide her to your bed and let her get comfortable as you stand , watching her get accustomed to her new space. “I’ll be out front, watchin’ the stars. You need anything, I’m a holler away.” You say, heading out the door. “Thank you, Miss Y/N.” Mo says silently. You nod back at her and head out the door. The stars accompany you for hours as you think about the kiss that you and Mo shared. Mo fell asleep thinking about the same thing. She slept more peacefully than she ever had that night, the thought of your soft lips soothing her like a lullaby. 

Honey Bee

Mo Washington X Black!FreedWoman!Reader

Contains: Angry!Mo, Timid!Reader, Fluff, Weapons, A screaming white man, I think that's it.

“Mo, don’t do this.” You warned, which sounded more like begging than anything else. You feel like it’s all your fault. Had you not went down to that general store to get more firewood, that white man wouldn’t have followed you home, and he wouldn’t have tried to hurt you. Maybe you should have just given him the wood and the rest of your money like he told you to. Maybe you shouldn’t have blocked him and protected yourself when he tried to strike you in the face. If you didn’t do all of those things, maybe…just maybe you wouldn’t be here right now. You stand behind Mo, her right hand reaching behind her protecting you, her left hand pointing a gun dead in this white man’s face. “You must’a lost yo mind, white boy.” She says through gritted teeth. Her jaw is clenched so tight, she could shatter her teeth if she shifted in the slightest. Your dress was covered in dirt, your heart pounding and praying silently that Mo would just let it go. Even God knew Mo wouldn’t, and that frightened you even more. 

“Mo baby, please.” you plead again. Mo lifted an eyebrow at the white boy who stood at the end of the barrel of her remington. You knew that it would soften her mind a bit, calling her by the nickname that you developed for her. “Mo Baby '' was her favorite words, not because they were sweet, but because they were even sweeter coming from your lips. “Pick up the wood.” She tells him, her right hand finding yours without having to turn around. The white man stares back in disbelief, “What?” he responds. Mo slowly cocks back the hammer, furrowing her eyebrows. She places the end of the barrel against his forehead and he gasps, fear coating his face, much like the sweat dripping from him. “I ain’ stutter, white boy. Pick up the wood.” She says, her venomous tone made you feel protected, but you knew the price of it…and this white boy could not afford it. He bent down, picking up the wood as fast as he could. “You that Washington gal everybody talks about in the next town over.” He says, picking up the last piece of would. He tries to step around Mo, eyeing you angrily but Mo steps between the both of you yet again. “I am…I’m sure you understand why they talk ‘bout me over there. Surely you ain’ no fool.” She says taking a few steps closer to him, bridging a larger gap between you and him. 

“Honey bee?” Your ears perk at the sound of her voice. “Yes?” you respond timidly, she almost didn’t hear you. “Take the wood. He tries anything…he will meet with God ‘fo he even think about it.” You follow her instructions, taking the wood from the man and returning to your place behind her. “Lemme tell you somethin’, white boy. You see her ova there? Das my pride and joy… Don’t you eva in yo life, put yo hands on her again. That’ll be the last thing you do.” She warns him, and you hope that her warning would be the last of it, but you know your Mo Baby all too well. She quickly aims for the man’s hand that he had placed at his side, shooting his pinky clean off his hand. Screaming in pain, he drops to his knees with tears streaming down his face. “Just a lil reminder, next time…I’ll kill ya where ya stand. Y’got it, white boy?” You hear her warn him, but you’re distracted by your heart pounding in your ears, your hands shake as you hold onto the firewood for dear life with your eyes shut tightly. 

“Go on, now. Wrap that hand up.” Mo says over her shoulder as she walks back to you. She frowns in concern, checking the cut across your eyebrow. You got it when you fell, trying your best to defend yourself. It wasn’t long after Mo showed up after that. Her hand finds your lower back, gently guiding you silently back home. “Mo baby…I’m so sorry.” you apologize, her silence felt more like scolding than any speech she’s given you about protecting yourself. “What ya sorry, for?” She asks, her eyes cut to you, shying away at her gaze. You tried explaining but Mo’s disinterest in your apology was very evident in her face. “It ain’ on you, Honey Bee.” was the only thing she said for the rest of the way home. 

Your silence was even louder to Mo, she sat you down, tending to your cut and examining your body for any more injuries. “I’m fine…” You say, pushing her hands away. “You sure?” She says, her hard exterior being penetrated by tenderness that can only be awakened by you. You stared at her, taking in her concern. “Y’ know why I call you my Honey Bee?” she asked. You never asked her why, you just loved the endearment. For a long time, she only called you by your name. Tenderness wasn’t Mo’s cup of tea, considering all that she had been through. You hummed at her, awaiting her answer. She smiled at you, closing her eyes, recalling an old memory. “I was on my way here. I ask the Lord for a sign, any kind.” She begins. You listen closely, watching her as she searches through her mind for her memory. The smile never left her face and it encouraged you to do the same. “I was restin’ for a lil while, not knowin’ that I was so close to Colorado, I could taste it.” She reaches for your hand, finding it with ease even though her eyes were closed. “And somethin’ came buzzin’ in my ear. I swatted at it…dat damn bee wouldn’t leave me alone.” You chuckle at her comment and she squeezes your hand softly. “I gave up tryin’ to rest, got on my horse and kept on goin’. When I got there, I stopped to rest again, and I couldn’t believe it, that damn bee was buzzin’ ‘round my head again.” She says, amusement lining her words as she meets your gaze now. 

You giggle, thinking about the face she makes when she is frustrated. It’s rather cute and you remember the first time you saw it. “I remember tellin’ God, ‘alright…I hear ya.’ and it finally flew on, leavin’ me alone. And there you was, watching me fight with the lil thing.” You smile brightly, remembering first laying your eyes on Mo. Her arms swung around, her hat in one hand swatting away. Your chuckle turned to a full blown laugh, catching her attention when she finally stopped. Oh, how you thank God for that day! “Mo Baby, what that gotta do with me?” You ask, she laughs at you, your confusion making itself known. “Well, if that bee didn’t bother me…would’ve given up. Thought the bee was da sign, ‘til I realized it was leadin’ me to the sweetness in your smile.” You blushed hard, the heat radiated off your brown skin in waves. 

“I ain’ never gon let nobody hurt you.” she whispered, placing her forehead against yours. “Y’hear me, Honey Bee?” You smile, closing your eyes, basking in your lover’s touch. “I love you, Mo baby.” You say, cupping her cheek. She stiffens, rising from her seat. “Tomorrow mornin’ I’ma teach you to shoot.” she says, grabbing the wood from the porch and setting it next to the furnace. “...I love you too, Honey Bee.” She finally reciprocates. Mo kisses your forehead and sits in her spot by the window. She stares out the window, reflecting on the incident. She wanted to make sure that it never happened again, your safety being the only thing she had been worried about.

Reblog if it's okay to befriend you, ask questions, ask for advice, rant, vent, let something off your chest, or just have a nice chat.

Can you plz make a mo baby fic where she’s telling honey bee to be grateful (same tone as she did tommy 😋) that she traveled so far to come home n make love to her because she endured so much on her journey

Hmmm 🤔 i kinda like that, but I’d have to make her say it tenderly in Honey Bee’s ear… she was a lil too rough with Tommy! That alright, darlin?

I need all Mo Washington fics out TONIGHT!

I would just like to take the time to explain to y'all that my love for Rosalie Otterbourne is unmatched because that woman God she's amazing in every way possible. I am weak for that woman like her look I just know she'd stare me down good gracious and come on the confidence and independence she has is unmatched.