#⸻ did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? — writing.

[jackiequinzel]

"Darling, i’ve loved you your whole life."

it's not fair. i know how petulantly teenaged i sound when i say that, but there's no other succinct way to express that feeling. i push back even a little bit against harley's bullshit and she acts like i'm the spawn of satan herself ⸺ goes crying straight to j about how she feels like she's losing her daughter. i'm not surprised when there's a knock at my door, even less so when i open it to find my mom and not my mother. fuck. fuck. this is the last thing i need. i stare at the floor when she tells me she loves me ; i can't deal with that right now, can't let her comfort distract me from the point.

❛ i don't know what she said, but it's not true. what? was it the threat to send me to military school again? the thinly veiled suggestion that i'm taking a little too much after you? or was it one of those irritated comments about how the right to choose is just soooooo important? ❜

i want her to take my side so fucking bad. to shut harley out, to listen to me. i tug at my sleeve, too aware of the way my frown wavers.

❛ whatever. ❜ i turn away, diving back into my bed, where the safety of my covers will protect me from both of my mothers' bullshit. but i leave the door open. and i hope she comes in.

#thewomanwholaughs #oh stop i'm going to wail #she is Certainly her other mother's daughter...................... #/deeply/ in harley's defense she has never said ANY of this shit #she has probably called jackie a bitch but /never/ to her face and /never/ somewhere jackie could hear #⸻ did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? — writing. #jack really has inherited harleen's talent for saying wildly inflammatory shit lmfao #*shaking harleen* stop modeling this behavior in front of your daughter

[punkshort]

look what we've become - ch.1

Chapter Summary: Tommy asks for your help proposing to Maria, causing both you and Joel to reflect on your own relationship.

Chapter Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, fear of commitment, smut (18+ MDNI), fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v unprotected sex, dirty talk

WC: 6.1K

Series masterlist | Next Chapter

A/N: hi everyone! if you're new and didn't read the first story, this follows a slightly different timeline. Essentially, Joel and Tommy had a very successful construction business in NYC and reader worked for them pre-outbreak, so I've written in this story a slightly younger version of Joel given the timeline.

Thank you to everyone who loved the first one so much that it encouraged me to write a sequel! I really hope you like it, and I want to emphasize there will be a happy ending to this story. Thanks for reading!

June 2007

"Can't thank you enough for your help, darlin'," Tommy said, his voice trying and failing to hide the anxiety that plagued his mind.

"Don't mention it," you told him, finishing up the final touches on the bouquet of flowers, wrapping a beautiful satin ribbon around the stems before handing it over. "What's the occasion?"

"I'm gonna ask her to marry me," he blurted out, and your hands instantly flew to your mouth, covering your excited gasp.

"Tommy!" you squealed, bouncing on the balls of your feet, trying to contain your energy before giving up and rounding your workstation to wrap your arms around him, being mindful not to crush the flowers he was holding. "I'm so happy for you, oh my god!"

"Well, thanks, but she ain't agreed, yet," he said, running a shaky hand through his long hair.

"She's going to say yes, don't be silly," you told him, a smile permanently etched on your face. You and Maria have been close friends ever since you met three years ago. You considered her to be your closest friend in Jackson, and you were thrilled at the idea of your best friend about to experience the happiest moment of her life. Tommy had come a long way from the man you knew before the outbreak, his days of chasing every girl that tossed him a smile long behind him.

"So, how are you going to do it?" you asked excitedly as he shifted back and forth on his feet. He paused and flicked his eyes up.

"Uh," he said, growing shifty. "Well, I dunno. Do I gotta plan somethin'?"

"Yes!" you said, rolling your eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck anxiously.

"Well, shit, I didn't think that far ahead!" he exclaimed, turning to pace around the greenhouse.

"Don't stress, we'll figure something out," you assured him, scooting back so you could lift your hips and sit on your workstation tabletop. "Did you find a ring?"

"Yeah, I got that, at least," he said, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he dug it out of his pocket. You plucked it from his fingers carefully so you could get a better look at the three round, shiny diamonds set on the center of a gold band.

"It's perfect," you told him warmly, handing it back. He allowed a small smile as he shoved it back into the safety of his pocket.

"Will you help me figure out how to do it?" he asked.

"Of course I will," you told him. "She doesn't like a fuss. It should be private. Small. Romantic. And you need to come up with something thoughtful to say." He nodded, his gaze traveling to the wall, lost in thought before he shifted his eyes back to you.

"Like what?"

"Tommy! Come on!" you scolded him, shoving his shoulder.

"I ain't good at all that, cut me some slack!" he said with a grin. "I need an example. What would you wanna hear?"

You paused, your smile frozen on your face as you felt your blood run cold. Your smile began to slowly slip as your heart slammed in your chest, anxiety creeping up your neck, ears ringing. Naturally, you were thinking about Joel bending down on one knee, professing his love to you and begging you to be his forever. A thought that should have filled you with warmth, but instead, scared you shitless. And your reaction itself made it even worse. Why would the thought of Joel proposing scare you? You never wanted anyone else. Once you met, it just wasn't a question anymore. You were his, and he was yours. An understanding, it didn't need to be said. So why does the thought of him saying it make you feel like you're falling down an endless hole in the ground?

"Um," you managed to squeak out, but Tommy had already moved on, wrapped up in his own dilemma.

"I think I know what I could say," he said, not noticing your sudden paralysis. "Can you do me a favor, though? Could you round up any candles you ain't usin'? Preferably unscented, don't need the whole place smellin' like a mix of cookies, pine and roses."

"Yeah, of course. I'll look when I get home and bring them over," you mumbled.

"Great, thanks again, darlin'! I'll see you in a bit," he said with a more confident smile, rushing out the door to leave you with your thoughts, your legs swinging mindlessly over the edge of the workstation. The workstation Joel had thoughtfully built for you because he insisted you needed somewhere proper to work in the greenhouse.

And he also broke the only desk you had.

You hung your head, feeling shameful and confused. Why hadn't you ever thought about this before? What would you have done if he proposed and you never sorted out your feelings about marriage? About kids?

"Shit," you whispered, the mere thought of kids making your throat squeeze shut. Bringing a child into this world? He wouldn't want to do that, would he?

Maybe you were getting ahead of yourself. Maybe he felt the same as you. Why change something that's working so well? You both loved each other, what difference did it make? But the devil on your shoulder threw back a counter argument.

If it didn't make a difference, then why didn't you want to do it?

You rubbed the heels of your hands into your eyes aggressively. You really needed to stop making problems out of nothing. This wasn't about you and Joel, it was about Tommy and Maria.

You sighed and made your way down the long aisle towards the door, deciding it was close enough to the end of your shift.

"Hey, I was callin' your name, didn't you hear me?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin and turned around to find Joel leaning against the doorframe of the spare bedroom. He eyed up the half empty box next to you on the floor and looked back at you questioningly.

"No, sorry, guess I was lost in my thoughts or something," you told him, turning back to rifle through the plastic storage tote. Joel took a few steps into the room and sat down on the spare bed, the springs squeaking under his weight.

"What're you thinkin' about?" he asked as he watched you pulling out each candle and giving them a sniff before deciding which pile to add them to.

"Huh?" you asked him, still jumpy from your revelation earlier. "Oh, it's nothing, really." Even to your own ears, the excuse sounded lame, so you weren't surprised when Joel didn't buy it.

"Must be somethin' if it's got you all distracted," he urged you gently. You shook your head and gave him a believing smile.

"No, really, it's nothing. Just thinking about work. I left early today, I'm just thinking about what I need to do tomorrow," you lied as you finished up going through the candles, snapping the plastic tote lid back on and shoving it into the spare closet.

"Why'd you leave early?" Joel asked with his eyebrows knit. "Feelin' okay?"

He's always so thoughtful, so concerned about you. It made the pit in your stomach worsen, the guilt flaring.

"Oh, yeah, fine. I just told Tommy I would get him these extra candles as soon as possible, so I'm gonna head over there real quick," you explained. As you leaned down to pick up the box, Joel's hand shot out to stop you, choosing instead to lift it up himself.

"I can do it," he said, then looked back down at the open box curiously. "Why does he need so many candles?"

"Well," you said, turning to leave the room so your face wouldn't give anything away when you told him. "He's going to propose to Maria. He has some special thing planned, involving candles, I guess. We should probably standby in case he lights the house on fire," you joked over your shoulder as you made your way down to the kitchen. You knew you were rambling a bit, but you hoped Joel didn't pick up on your nervousness.

"He's what?" Joel exclaimed, stopping dead in his tracks in the hallway, still holding the box of candles. You turned your attention towards him again as you leaned against the kitchen counter.

"Yep, he told me today. He asked me to make a bouquet for him at work," you told him, studying his face carefully. Joel looked stunned as he stared out the window behind you while he processed the information.

"Well, goddamn," he said, finally snapping out of it with a smirk. "I'll take these over so I can give him shit for not tellin' me sooner." He readjusted the box in his arms before he turned around towards the front door, his reaction giving you a bit of relief. He was just happy for his brother, and didn't appear to be overthinking your own relationship, like you couldn't stop doing.

Naturally, you worried about nothing. You were both perfectly content with the way things were. Feeling silly for even being nervous in the first place, you followed him to the front door and stopped him before he left.

"Hey, wait," you said from the door, causing him to turn around just as he was about to descend the stairs. "How about a kiss before you go?"

He grinned and, dropping the box in a chair by the front door, reached forward with both hands to cradle your face and pulled you towards him, his lips pressing firmly against yours. Your fingers gripped the front of his T-shirt as you sighed contentedly against him, his usual scent of gunpowder, sweat and something uniquely him filling your nostrils. You opened your mouth and licked gently at his lips, causing him to smile and slide his tongue alongside yours with a quiet groan while one of his hands released your jaw to get tangled in your hair. He gave your head a gentle tug backwards in an attempt to get you to open your mouth wider, but when a soft moan escaped your lips from the sensation, he felt himself stiffen in his jeans. He pulled you back further so you lost contact and he looked down at your flushed face, his hands still in your hair and on your jaw.

"I'll take these later," he said huskily, nodding to the candles next to the door as he walked you backwards inside the house.

"No, no, you have to take them now," you giggled as his mouth latched onto your neck. "He needs them before Maria gets home." He growled against your skin and begrudgingly pulled away, his eyes raking up and down your body before he stepped backwards.

"Don't move, I'll be back in ten minutes," he told you, grabbing the box and jogging down the steps. You laughed and closed the door behind him, wondering why you let yourself get worked up over nothing. Everything was great between you, you were never more sure of anything in your life. In the back of your mind, you knew you had to figure out why you had such a negative reaction to the thought of marriage in the first place, but you decided to put that off for another day.

"Can't believe you didn't tell me, you little shit," Joel teased with a smirk the minute Tommy swung the door open. He pushed his way into the house and glanced around quickly to make sure Maria wasn't there before turning back to Tommy.

"Heard you needed some mood lighting," Joel said, raising an eyebrow when Tommy ruefully snatched the box from his arms.

"Yeah, thanks," was all Tommy could manage, his nerves getting the best of him the more time passed.

"Nervous or somethin'?" Joel asked his brother as he casually took in the half-done scene he was setting in the living room. Candles were randomly dispersed throughout the room and two empty wine glasses were placed on top of the mantle.

"Yeah, I'm fuckin' nervous, 'course I'm nervous, shit," Tommy said as he raked a hand through his hair and got to work sifting through the box.

"Well, it ain't like she's gonna say 'no'," said Joel in a poor attempt at easing his brother's nerves.

"Don't matter. I gotta do it right. It'll mean a lot to her, she's probably got some fantasy in her head already 'bout how it'll go. I can't screw this up," Tommy said as he pushed past Joel to balance more candles on the bookshelf.

"Nah, you're overthinkin' it, they just like the ring so they can show it off," Joel replied, thinking back briefly to the time when he was engaged before the outbreak. Amy hardly cared about the effort he put into the proposal, but her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when she saw the huge diamond he picked out.

"Oh, brother, you couldn't be more wrong. Your own girl told me I need to do somethin' thoughtful. Somethin' romantic. Shit, you're lucky you got me before you swiped the biggest rock you could find and think that'll be enough to make her happy," Tommy grinned as he nudged Joel's shoulder playfully, making his way back into the kitchen to pick out a bottle of wine.

Joel chewed on his lower lip and cracked his knuckles before scratching his beard, his eyes flicking around the room, lost in thought, while Tommy began to light the candles. Tommy noticed the sudden silence and paused, straightening up and raising an eyebrow at his brother.

"You already got a ring, don't you?"

Joel met his gaze for a moment before clearing his throat and running a hand through his hair.

"I've had it for months," Joel admitted, bringing his thumb and pointer finger up to rub his eyes.

"Holy shit, Joel! Why didn't you say anythin'?" Tommy exclaimed, walking over to clap his brother on the back.

"I don't know. You never said anythin', either," he said with a shrug.

"Well, when are you gonna do it?" Tommy asked, turning back to light the candles, grateful for the distraction.

"Don't know. Never seems like the right time," said Joel as he picked up the bottle of red wine Tommy placed on the mantle, scrutinizing the label. "And it's a good thing, too, seein' as I need to rethink how I'm gonna ask her, apparently."

"Yeah, well, one of these days I can ask Maria for advice, if you want," Tommy said, brushing his palms on the sides of his jeans as he made his way to the window, peering out to make sure she wasn't coming home early. "Least I could do, since I got help from your girl."

"Yeah, maybe," Joel replied as he distractedly ran his palm over his mouth.

"Alright, get the hell out of here, I gotta change and put the flowers in a vase before Maria gets home," Tommy said, pushing Joel towards the front door. He opened the door but Joel paused, turning around quickly and enveloping Tommy in a rare, quick hug.

"Congrats, brother. She's gonna love it," he said, gesturing vaguely around the living room. Tommy grinned and nodded.

"Thanks. Now leave, I mean it," he said, giving Joel a shove. Joel laughed and shook his head.

"I'm leavin', I'm leavin'," he said with a wave over his shoulder. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he made his way slowly down the street.

He was telling Tommy the truth about the ring. He hadn't gone out looking for it, but one day, months ago, when he was on patrol with Eugene, he just happened to see it. They had been exploring an abandoned shopping mall, and when he walked by the jewelry store, he had glanced inside at the broken glass display cases and spotted what he thought was the perfect ring for you. It was an oval diamond set on a delicate, white gold band. He had picked it up and examined it thoughtfully, imagining what it would look like on your finger. He briefly looked at the other choices, and none of the others seemed to resonate with him the way that one did. So he pocketed it before Eugene noticed he was lingering, and hid it in an old shoe he had in the closet when he got home.

When he first came home with the ring, he couldn't stop fantasizing about how he would ask you, what he would say, what you would say. But he hadn't been in any rush to ask, and he hadn't really thought about it much after that, he just knew he wanted to spend his life with you. He had almost forgotten all about it until you told him about Tommy's plan earlier that day. But now that his brother had him thinking about it again, the idea of officially making you his and calling you his wife made him feel excited.

He walked through the front door and kicked his boots off before he made his way down the hallway and into the kitchen, where he saw you drying some plates and putting them away. You glanced over your shoulder when you heard him enter the room before turning back to your task.

"Little longer than ten minutes," you teased. You were drying your hands on the dish towel when his arms snaked around your waist and he buried his face in the back of your neck. You squirmed, his grip loosening so you could turn around and gently circle your arms around his neck. "What took you so long?"

He shrugged and leaned down to press a chaste kiss where your neck met your shoulder.

"Just got to talkin'," he murmured, pressing another kiss in the same spot. You hummed and tilted your head to the side a bit, closing your eyes.

"I was thinking, maybe we should throw them an engagement party," you whispered, trying to stay focused as his lips brushed along your neck, his scruffy beard giving you goosebumps. "I can ask Carrie to help, she loves that kind of thing."

"That'd be nice," he mumbled in agreement, flipping his head in the other direction so he could continue his torture on the opposite side of your neck. "We can have it here."

"Yeah," you sighed as you shifted your weight, trying to ignore the ache growing between you legs. "I thought we could - "

You inhaled sharply when he pinched the skin of your collarbone between his teeth, leaving an angry red mark there. Your fingers found their way into his dark curls, gripping them tightly as your breathing became shallow.

"Hm?" he asked, hiding his smirk against your skin.

"Thought we could do it outside," you mumbled, quickly finishing your thought.

"Whatever you want," he said, his voice gravelly as he pulled you into him roughly, earning a small yelp from you. His lips latched onto yours, softly humming against your mouth, the warm exhale from your nose fanning gently over his face. You pulled away, breaking the kiss as he began slowly walking you backwards towards the stairs, his eyes dark as he stared you down.

"Maybe Julia's class can make decorations. I think Maria would like that," you said breathlessly, gazing up at him, meeting his heated stare. "What do you think?"

Joel gave you half a smirk when the backs of your legs bumped up against the lowest step.

"I think you better get up to bed right now before I toss you over my shoulder and do it myself," he said lowly, sending a shiver down your spine.

A playful grin spread across your face as you turned on your heel and raced up the stairs, Joel following hot on your trail, taking them two at a time.

You barely pushed the bedroom door open before his hands were on you, eagerly skirting over your hips and up your arms before coming to rest on your jaw, cradling your head in his hands tenderly as his tongue slid between your lips, reveling in your warmth. Being with you always felt like home to him, it was where he was always meant to be.

"So beautiful," he mumbled against your mouth before he pressed his lips against yours again, his fingers gripping your head a little tighter, like he was afraid you would float away.

Your fingers deftly worked on undoing his jeans as he continued to walk you towards the bed. Just as you were about to reach below his waistband, he scooped down to pick you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips, clinging to him as he softly placed you both down.

He lifted his head up a fraction to look down at you underneath him, his thumb gently stroking your cheek, looking at you with admiration. His eyes flicked up to the open closet door, the urge to confirm the shoe with the ring in it was still in its rightful place, that you hadn't accidentally found it.

"What is it?" you asked him breathlessly, noticing how his attention had been stolen away. He quickly brought his gaze back down to you with a sly smile.

"Nothin'," he said with a shake of his head, then leaned down to part your lips again with his tongue, curling his fingers along the back of your neck, deepening the kiss with slow, leisurely licks inside your mouth. Your fingers danced over his broad shoulders for a moment before you made your way down his chest and stomach, pausing to gently rake your nails through the coarse hair at the top of his boxers, then plunging down to wrap your hand around his stiff cock.

He groaned softly into your mouth when you gave him a squeeze, his hips shallowly thrusting forward into your hand as you stroked him up and down.

"Slow down," Joel gasped, tearing himself away from your mouth and flexing his fingers around your wrist, stopping you. "Wanna take my time with you tonight," he drawled, taking your hand away and pinning it lightly into the mattress.

"Joel," you whined, lifting your hips up from the bed, frustrated. He tutted and shook his head.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you. You know I always do," he said huskily, his mouth latching onto your neck. "Wanna take care of you for the rest of my life," he added quietly, his voice muffled against your skin and lost in the sounds of your moans. You tipped your head back, your free hand sliding through his thick curls, fingernails raking against his scalp just the way he likes.

He let go of your hand so he could lift your shirt over your head, followed quickly by your bra. Slowly, his eyes swept over your bare chest, his knuckles brushing against your nipple and watching as it perked up in response, then once he was satisfied, did the same to the other.

"So soft," he muttered to himself before diving down and sucking one into his mouth, the tip of his tongue flicking against your nipple before he flattened it against your sensitive skin, licking slow, hot stripes up and down. He lifted his mouth from your skin and blew gently over the wetness his tongue left behind. You gasped at the sensation, your cunt clenching around nothing as he switched sides, giving the same attention to your other breast while his fingers roamed around your waist, then dipped down to squeeze your ass and hips.

You whined his name and tugged on his hair, begging him to touch you, vaguely wondering why he was in the mood to take things so painfully slow, but you were unable to form a coherent thought other than why are my fucking jeans still on?

"Joel, please," you whimpered, pathetically jutting your hips upwards, trying to find friction against him to no avail. He finally released your breast and looked up at you, your chest heaving, hair a mess and your eyes glazed over, already looking completely wrecked. He smirked at the sight and pushed himself up, hovering over you.

"Alright, sweetheart, I'll give you one," he said, much to your relief as his hand came between you to pop open your jeans. He pulled down the zipper and you hooked your thumbs into your belt loops, helping to pull them down as quickly as you could and kicked them off. His eyes glanced down, feeling his cock twitch when saw the dark spot leaking through your panties.

He looped his fingers around the sides of your underwear and pulled them off, then flattened his palms on the insides of your thighs so he could admire the mess he made of you. He ran his middle finger up the length of your seam, testing the waters before dipping inside, marveling at how soaked you were already. His eyes drifted up to your face, mesmerized as you writhed underneath him, your eyes screwed shut and your brows pinched as you focused on his second finger entering your aching cunt.

"Oh, fuck, Joel," you whimpered, snapping your eyes open just to find him already gazing down at you, his eyes dark and filled with want. You rocked your hips forward, trying to make him go faster, but he continued to slowly pump both fingers in and out, in and out, curling his fingertips as he reached inside, brushing against the spot that he knows makes you fall apart.

"That feel better?" he breathed, and you nodded, clutching the sheets in your fist as the fire in your stomach began to burn, the warmth creeping up your chest and neck with every plunge of his fingers. His thumb brushed gently over your clit and you cried out, your body stiffening underneath him as you felt your orgasm steadily approach, your breath coming in short gasps when he finally began to circle the swollen bundle of nerves.

"Faster," you croaked, tipping your head back, but he shook his head and continued his torturous pace.

"It'll feel better this way," he said, and you groaned. "Do you trust me?" he asked, and you brought your head back down so you could look at him again.

"Yes," you whispered, watching as his eyes lit up and a smug grin spread across his face.

"Then let go," he ordered. You inhaled sharply as you felt your walls clench down and your release drip down his fingers, your orgasm slowly ripping through you with a strangled moan. You reached out and grabbed his wrist when it became too much, your body relaxing onto the bed and your eyes fluttering shut.

He slid his fingers out, earning a hiss from you before he popped them into his mouth. You opened your eyes weakly as you watched him suck his fingers, his other hand palming his erection over his jeans and looking down at you panting beneath him, his gaze dark.

"I need more," he murmured as he shimmied down the bed to settle his face between your legs, his hands sliding up your shaky thighs to pin them down to the mattress.

"Wait, Joel," you told him breathlessly. "Too soon, I - it's too much," you said, pulling feebly at his hair. He ignored you, too lost in his own thoughts, the fantasy of making you his and calling you his wife consuming him.

He licked a stripe through your folds, his tongue plunging inside briefly before taking another long, slow drag. You wiggled under his hold with a gasp, your body involuntarily trying to squirm away from overstimulation, but his large hands pinned you down as his tongue probed further inside you.

He knew he was pushing you to your limits, but he couldn't stop. He felt like a man possessed. He alternated between licking and nibbling at your sensitive cunt, trying to avoid your most sensitive area until he knew you could handle it. Only when he finally felt your legs relax under his palms and heard your breathy moans of encouragement did he venture up to press his tongue flat against your clit. Your fingers tugged at his curls, his eyes rolling to the back of his head with a moan. He always loved it when you pulled on his hair. He sucked your clit into his mouth, swirling it around his tongue slowly, trying to drag out the pleasure as long as possible.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. The pressure building inside you too intense. You felt like you were vibrating, Joel's expert hands and mouth making your body pulse and thrum, your breaths shallow and sharp.

You tried to say his name, but it came out as a pathetic whimper instead. The way he lapped at your fluttering cunt was making you dizzy. You were hyper aware of how rough his facial hair felt on your raw skin, a stark contrast to how soft his tongue felt on your folds. The muscles in your stomach began to clench as you felt yourself rocketing towards your second orgasm.

Joel felt you twitch under his forearm and knew you were close. He pressed his face further into you, thrusting his hips into the mattress to find some relief while he sucked and nibbled on your swollen clit, your moans morphing into high pitched cries, fingers frantically grasping and slipping through his curls.

Your back arched off the bed, tears trickling down your cheeks as you fell over the edge, your body jerking underneath him while you screamed his name. His hands clutched your legs, trying to keep himself attached as he worked you through it.

He finally pulled back with a gasp when you managed to writhe away, desperate to give your trembling body a break, completely overwhelmed. You each panted for breath as you stared at one another for a moment, your legs still shaking from the aftershock.

"Christ, Joel," you rasped, your voice hoarse as you wiped your tears away with the back of your hand.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he said, running a hand through his hair before wiping his mouth, his gaze softening as he took in your wrecked state. "Can't get enough of you."

"I can see that," you teased, the corners of your mouth turning upwards into a smirk. Your eyes flicked down to his pants, noticing his cock straining painfully against the denim. "Come here," you whispered, beckoning him with your arms. He grinned and quickly pulled his shirt over his head before kicking off his boxers and jeans. He crawled up the bed slowly, hovering over your body. You ran your hands gently over his arms, sending a shiver down his spine, before grasping the back of his neck and pulling him down for a deep kiss. He moaned against your mouth, his lips gently massaging your own while his tongue gave you a taste of your arousal.

"Are you sure you can handle it?" he asked, looking down between your bodies where your hand was directing his cock to your entrance.

"We're gonna find out," you said with a sigh, feeling his thick head notch against you. He pushed forward and you gasped at the familiar sting of being stretched open. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he pressed on, slowing giving you every inch of him before bottoming out with a groan of relief.

"Fuck," he whispered, resting his forehead in the crook of your neck while he took a moment to just appreciate the feel of you. You wiggled your hips slightly underneath him to get more comfortable as your body relaxed and adjusted to his size.

"I'll never get tired of that feeling," you murmured into his hair.

"Hope not," he said, lifting his head up with a smirk. He held your gaze as he slowly dragged his cock in and out, in and out until your head tilted back and your eyes slid shut, your lips parted as you gasped softly each time he pushed back inside. He nibbled tenderly at your jaw, fucking you with deep, long strokes while your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him closer each time.

"God, you feel so good," you moaned, yanking his face up and kissing him messily, your fingertips digging into his skin. He kept up the slow pace, savoring the feeling of just being close and intimate, while each powerful thrust caused tip of his cock to make contact with the most sensitive spot inside you, stoking the flames and pushing you to the edge.

"Fuck, I love you so fuckin' much, you know that?" he gasped, his lips hovering above your open mouth as he gazed down at you, watching your eyes glaze over with each slow drag, in and out. "D'you - shit - d'you see what you do to me? Huh?" He gripped your jaw when he saw your eyes begin to flutter close, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks. "Look at me, sweetheart. Need you to look at me," he begged, his climax quickly approaching but he refused to pick up the pace, enjoying the slow way he was fucking you way too much.

"Yes," you whispered, forcing your eyes open to give him what he needed. He nodded, loosening his grip on your jaw and letting his hand fall limply. He looked down, watching as his cock disappeared inside you and coming back out, coated in your slick. He groaned at the sight and glanced back up at you, your gaze still transfixed on his face, just as he asked.

"Can't believe you're really mine," he muttered to himself in disbelief with a small shake of his head, his eyes roaming over your face and chest. "Can't believe I'm the one that gets to fuck you."

"I'm yours," you whimpered, biting down on your lower lip as you felt your body begin to tense up, like a band ready to snap.

"Yeah?" he asked hopefully, his wide eyes locking back onto yours. He knew you didn't mean it the way he wanted to hear it, that it was just something you said in the heat of the moment, but he didn't care. He allowed himself to have the fantasy, anyway.

"Just you, only you," you babbled, knowing exactly what he liked to hear. He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath, fucking into you a little faster now.

"Keep talkin', just like that," he said through gritted teeth, his arms wrapping around your ribs as his hips snapped into you, eliciting a low moan from your throat.

"N-nobody else, all y-yours, only want you," you rambled before the band snapped and your vision went spotty. You cried out and clenched down around him, the intensity of a third orgasm depleting all your energy and almost immediately, your muscles went slack.

"That's right, good girl," Joel said, watching you fall apart under him. "All mine. Mine - mine - mine!" he grunted, each word punctuated with a harsh thrust before pulling out just in time to come all over your stomach, watching in a daze as each burst of his hot spend coated your soft skin.

He collapsed next to you, both struggling to catch your breath. Your arm draped over your eyes and you contemplated falling asleep just like that, not even sure you had the strength to stand anyway. After a moment, he reached over to his nightstand to snatch up a handkerchief, and he gently cleaned you up as your breathing stabilized. Gingerly, he lifted your arm away from your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek, then your swollen lips before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Wow," you whispered hoarsely, finally opening your eyes. He chuckled and nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, wow," he said, laying back down next to you. "That was somethin' else," he added, rubbing his palms roughly over his face.

You rolled onto your side, wincing at the soreness in your legs and hips already, and draped an arm across his body.

"Where did all that come from?" you asked sleepily, nuzzling your face into his chest. He shrugged.

"Don't know," he lied as he rubbed small circles across your back. You hummed, accepting his response without a second thought. His eyes drifted back over to the closet briefly before reaching over and turning off the light, tugging the sheets over your bodies and resuming the circles on your back until he heard your breathing slow, confirming you were asleep.

He stared in the dark at the ceiling, thinking about how and when he should ask you to marry him. He didn't want to take away from Tommy and Maria, so he figured he should put it off for a while, but that didn't stop him from closing his eyes that night and dreaming about what it would be like to be your husband.

Tag List: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777, @shotgun-shelby @partyofone3413 @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina @untamedheart81 @taz-97 @nastiasnow - lmk if I missed anyone or if you want to be removed

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel x reader #joel x reader smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal #the last of us game #the way we were joel miller fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #look what we've become joel miller fic

[sweetercalypso]

Please can you write about being catcalled when you’re with Joel? Like what do you think he would do?

wc: 0.7k cw: threats/slight violence, suggestive comments

Life in Jackson is quiet.

It’s reminiscent of a time that not many remember. Fit with a heavy artillery of patrolmen and a clinic and a working bar, Jackson made it easy to pretend that danger was no longer a concern.

Some of the men in the community weren’t so well-adjusted to easy living, and learned to find the familiarity of violence wherever they possibly could.

Walking back from Tommy’s house one evening, you’re reminded of how pervasive the threat of humanity can be.

Joel leads you home after dinner with his family. Ellie had stayed behind at Maria and Tommy’s with promises of hot chocolate and a new book that Tommy had procured on patrol the week before. You’re wrapped around Joel’s arm, giggling at whatever nonsense story he was murmuring into the quiet air when a sharp whistle kills the hazy warmth of the night.

Standing alone in the pale-yellow light of a streetlamp, one of the men from a group of newcomers stares darkly at you and Joel as the two of you pass by. His eyes had been stalking you from the time you turned the corner, like he was waiting for the perfect time to make his move.

“Lookin’ good, baby. I’d love to get a piece of that ass.”

Joel stops dead in his tracks like he’d been scorned by the man’s words. It was obvious the stranger was looking to pick a fight, and Joel was not the type to let a remark like that go.

“The fuck did he just say-”

“Ignore ‘em, Joel. He’s just trying to rile you up.”

Your grip on Joel’s sleeve tightens to give the man a chance to reconsider. Maybe he didn’t mean to offend you and he’d apologize. Maybe he’d realize who Joel was and he’d run away. Maybe –

“Let me know when the old man croaks, sweetheart. I’ll show you how a real man takes care of a pretty thing like you.”

Joel whips around abruptly with rage in his eyes and tears his arm out of your grasp before you even realize what’s happening.

He pounces on the man and grabs him by the collar, pushing him backwards until he smacks into the wall of the building behind him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Joel snarls.

He slams his hand against the faded brick, barely missing the side of the man’s face with his palm. Too stunned by the scene playing out in front of you, you’re frozen where you stand in the middle of the street.

Realizing that he had made a mistake, the man puts his hands up in surrender, opening his mouth to speak when Joel cuts him off.

“If I hear another word out of your mouth, I’ll knock your head clean off your shoulders. You got that?”

He nods frantically, clearly aware that he’s not in the position to argue.

“Don’t ever talk about my girl like that again – or any woman here, for that matter. This ain’t the kinda place where people let that slide.”

Barely an inch separates the two men as Joel barks abuse at the creep until he’s red in the face. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him this upset.

“You so much as look at her again and you’re dead. D’you hear me?”

The man shakes his head in acknowledgement, too stunned to respond.

Joel yanks him forward and away from the wall, almost throwing him to the ground from the rough force he uses. He holds the man at arm’s length, speaking loudly enough for you to hear him where you stand a couple paces away. “Good. Now tell her you’re sorry.”

The man meets your gaze over Joel’s jacket clad shoulder, stammering through his dazed apology. “M’sorry, ma’am. Won’t happen again.”

Joel releases him with a rough shove and backs away nodding. “You’re damn right.”

He walks backwards until he’s beside you again, your hand slinking under his outer layer to rest securely over his chest.

“My hero,” you tease, pressing a kiss to his cheek as the two of you continue your journey back home.

Watching over his shoulder as the the stranger staggers into the night, Joel mutters under his breath,

“I’d rather deal with the damn clickers.”

#lovely anons #calypso writes #Joel Miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller drabble #joel miller hurt/comfort #joel miller fluff #joel x reader #joel x you #joel x y/n #the last of us #tlou #joel tlou #the last of us x reader #pedro pascal x reader

[caapsiizzereads]

Can you write a Jamie Tartt request of him saying "marry me" to his girlfriend in front of the team and the team (your choice of who) losing their mind/shocked that the reader is calm but the reader knows they have a future and that Jamie is half joking (cause you know his proposal would be more) ? I just live for lovesick Jamie and your writing!

I LIVE FOR THIS REQUEST.

“Is it–”

“Jamie.” You look away from the road to give him a look.

“But–”

“No. You just win your match and be the prettiest birthday boy you are,” you grin at him. “And leave the rest to me.”

“Fine,” he laughs, beaming at you.

Even though you have just recently celebrated your six month anniversary, you have already passed some major relationship milestones: during the off-season you took a trip to Manchester, and Jamie introduced you to his mom and step-dad, you basically live together, and Jamie has accepted the fact that him winning an argument is just not something that’s ever going to happen. Even on his birthday.

After you arrive at the stadium, you wish the team good luck (and give Jamie a special good luck kiss) and go to join Keeley and Rebecca at the seats.

Jamie scores a beautiful goal in the second half and looks at the owner’s box to wave at you, but you aren’t there. This is weird because Jamie knows that you were at the game. He keeps checking your seat every now and then, but you’re still nowhere to be found.

They win the match, and the locker room is filled with cheerful babbling and shouting.

“Heey! Congratulations on the win!” You walk into the room a few minutes later, immediately being greeted by the excited noises.

Jamie’s face lights up when he sees you, “Hey! Where were you?”

“I had to leave, sorry,” you smile apologetically.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah… Just needed to pick up your mom and Simon from the airport…”

“What?!” Jamie had no idea that they were even coming.

“They were supposed to arrive before the match, but their flight got delayed.” You say it like it explains why his mom and Simon are here, and you knew about it and he didn't.

“Why didn’t I know about it?”

“Because it was supposed to be a birthday surprise, dumbass,” you chuckle.

“Oh.” Right, that makes sense. “So you picked them up?”

“Yeah, they’re at your place.”

“Why mine?” You mostly spend time at your place, and Jamie moved half of his stuff there a while ago.

“Because you have a bigger backyard and Simon is making enough food to feed a football team. And I mean literally.” You turn to face the rest of the team, “So you all are invited.”

A wide smile is growing on Jamie’s face. “Did you–“

“Yes.”

“Can we–“

“Already did. Your favorite, double chocolate.” You enjoy the delighted expression on Jamie’s face for a moment, and then suddenly turn your head to the side. “I don’t wanna hear a single fucking groan from you,” you point at Roy who’s frozen with his mouth open. You glare at each other for a few seconds, and he slowly closes his mouth. You give him a satisfied smile that translates to ‘that’s what I thought (bitch)’ and turn back to Jamie, who’s staring at you completely awestruck.

“Marry me.”

The room goes comically silent, everyone’s eyes on you, and you have to stop yourself from laughing.

“Sunshine, I know it’s your birthday, but you’ll have to do better than this if you want to put a ring on that finger,” you smile playfully at him, and Jamie’s looking at you like you’re the eighth wonder of the world. “Okay, come on now, put your buns to work and get changed. I’ll wait for you outside ‘cause there’s only so much time a girl can tolerate being in a sweaty locker room.” You wave at the team, who are still trying to process what has just happened, “See you later, boys.”

Jamie’s grinning to himself for another minute after you leave. You better believe he’s going to put a ring on that finger.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt imagine

[ateotd-izzy]

right where you left me - stiles stilinski x fem!reader

“did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen?”

summary: you weren’t entirely sure you were ready to go on a date, considering your last was when your then boyfriend broke up with you. so imagine the surprise when you see him at the restaurant too.

“time went on for everybody else, she won’t know it”

notes: i feel like i write too many cute and happy fics on here so here’s a change of pace, sadness and angst.

“she’s still 23 inside her fantasy, how it was supposed to be”

☾

you brushed the front of your dress as you exited your car. you could see the restaurant’s front door from the parking lot as you took deep breaths.

agreeing to meet up with a man you barely knew for a fancy dinner date was not something you had exactly expected when you moved to a new city, but it was happening.

a fresh start had been what you needed after everything that happened, but you still weren’t sure if a date with a work colleague was exactly the best idea.

you stepped into the restaurant, the building much warmer than the cold breeze that blew outdoors, and carefully fiddled with a few stray hairs until you were soon being escorted to the table where your date was sitting.

seeing you approach, he slowly stood up with a smile to greet you.

“hi,” you gave a small wave as a waiter pulled your chair out for you. you turned your head to look back at the waiter. “oh, thank you.”

you took your seat and your date, a young man named isaac, just wouldn’t stop smiling.

“what?” you asked, puzzled slightly as you scrunched your eyebrows.

“nothing. i’m just glad you’re here,” he looked down at the menu on the table in front of him, picking it up. “do you want to order?”

your eyes drifted around the restaurant as you answered. “yeah, sounds good.”

then your breath caught in your throat at the sight of a familiar face sitting at a table not too far away.

“stiles, this place is fancy,” you chuckled as the two of you were seated. “this is not our usual kind of restaurant.”

stiles didn’t say anything. he just adjusted his tie and put on a smile.

you and stiles had been together for five years, having began dating back when you were 18. and you were positive the two of you were meant to be.

you looked down at the menu, where some of the meals you could order were things you had never even heard of.

you then looked back up at your boyfriend, who hadn’t taken his eyes off of the empty wine glasses sitting on the table before you.

“you’re unusually quiet,” you spoke and he seemed to snap back to reality, meeting your eyes. “you okay?”

“yeah, i’m okay,” stiles then picked up his menu and started looking at the drinks.

soon the two of you had glasses of red wine in front of you and were waiting for your food to arrive.

stiles was still acting a little strange, giving mostly short, curt answers to your questions and seemingly zoning out every so often.

“so, what’s with the fancy restaurant, stilinski?” you asked curiously, a part of you hoping that he was going to propose to you that night.

stiles shrugged a little. “i just thought a change of pace would be nice.”

you reached out and put your hand on top of his. “well i think it’s great. we should do this more often.”

“uh, yeah,” stiles cleared his throat. “um… about that-”

before he could start talking, a waiter appeared beside your table.

“your meals.” two plates were placed down before you.

“so, what are you thinking about getting?” isaac asked you and you turned to look at him again, tearing your eyes away from the man just a few feet away.

“i’m not too sure,” you forced out a small, breathy laugh. “there’s a lot to chose from.”

“i’m thinking maybe steak,” isaac told you, still looking down at his menu, and your eyes flickered over to that other table again. “you can never go wrong with steak.”

“some of these pastas sound good,” you forced yourself to talk to isaac and not be distracted by him.

“oh, i love pasta,” isaac lowered his menu to look at you. “i can make great spaghetti and meatballs.”

you smiled and looked back to your menu when a waitress approached your table.

“hi,” she smiled brightly. “are the two of you ready to order anything? otherwise i can come back around.”

“oh, drinks would be great.” isaac nodded and turned his head to you. “uh, you good with red w-”

“i’ll just have water.” you cut in, before slinking back into your chair a little. “sorry. i don’t really drink wine.”

“oh, well, we have other drink options if you’d like,” the waitress spoke but you shook your head.

“no, thank you. water’s fine.”

“okay,” the waitress smiled after taking both your drink and food orders. “i’ll be back with your drinks in just a moment.”

“thank you,” isaac then looked back to you as the waitress headed in the direction of the kitchen. “oh, hey, did you hear about what happened with james yesterday?”

james was another coworker who isaac was friends with. you kept more to yourself and only really spoke with your best friend, kira.

“no, what happened?” you asked and isaac began to tell a story of some event the day before.

but you could keep your eyes on the man sitting in front of you, and instead kept looking at the man laughing with a red-haired woman just a few tables away.

looking so happy.

as you began to eat, stiles pushed his steak around with his fork.

“are you sure you’re okay, babe?” you asked as you finished your food and wiped your mouth. “you’ve barely said anything all night.”

stiles didn’t reply, or even meet your eyes. you had started to worry something was wrong.

“um, not quite,” stiles lowered his fork, sitting it next to his plate of mostly untouched food. “it’s just…”

you crossed one leg over the other as you brought your glass of wine to your lips. the dim lights reflected off of stiles’ still full glass of wine as he struggled to find the right words.

“stiles?” you spoke and he lifted his eyes to meet yours again.

“i don’t think…” stiles took a deep breath. “y/n, i think we need to break up.”

the entire moment seemed to stop as your wine glass slipped from your hand and dropped onto the table.

the glass shattered and red stained the white cloth on the table. the sudden loud noise drew a silence from the room, a number of heads turning to look.

but you paid no notice, your eyes trained on stiles, who was now struggling to keep eye contact with you.

“what?” you had to choke the word out and the silence that followed was almost deafening.

“we need to break up.” he repeated quietly and that’s when the tears began to brim in your eyes.

you didn’t get it. it had been five years. you loved him more than anything and everything had been seeming fine. what the hell changed?

“so, isaac, we barely know each other outside of work,” you started creating small talk after your food arrived. “what kind of stuff do you do for fun?”

“well, i like reading,” he told you. “books mostly, but i used to love reading, like, superhero comics when i was a kid, and i still do.”

“oh, i love comics too!” you smiled, but it quickly dropped when you heard his laugh from that table.

your head turned and you looked over again.

“something wrong?” isaac asked and you shook your head.

“no, no, don’t worry,” you waved it off and sipped your water. “so you like comics? what about movies?”

you did your best to keep the conversation going, and while some topics actually lasted a while, most conversations fizzled out after a short time.

it was like the two of you couldn’t really connect.

then you glanced back at stiles at his table.

what a coincidence that he would be here of all places. especially after you moved.

then you turned your focus to the woman with him. red-hair and a bright smile.

you could only really see the back of her head, just glimpses of her face when she would turn.

but as she pushed some of her hair back, it felt like a part of you died when something caught your eye.

your heart sunk in your chest at the sight of the shiny engagement ring on her finger.

it had only been two years since you and stiles broke up. two years. and yet she was the one with the ring.

you were with stiles for five whole years and as much as you wanted one, there was never a proposal.

“y/n, are you sure nothing’s bothering you?” isaac asked and that was the moment stiles noticed you.

he had been laughing at something his fiancé had said when his smile slowly dropped and his eyes connected with yours.

that solemn look on his face was enough to transport you back to that restaurant. but a part of you was always there.

“why?” your voice asked softly as the tears threatened to spill.

the wine had began to drip down from the table and onto the carpeted floor beside you.

stiles didn’t say a word, which just started to make you angry.

“stiles, why?” your voice was wavering and stiles squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. he held his hands together in front of his mouth before sighing.

“i met this girl,” he started and you could physically feel your heart break in your chest, snapping into two.

“a different girl,” that’s when you started to cry, but you did your best to keep your voice as steady as possible. “did you cheat on me?”

“no! no, i would never,” stiles’ eyes went wide before his face sank. “i just… whenever i talk to her, ever since we first met, i get this feeling. and it…”

his voice trailed off.

“go on,” you sniffled, feeling the mascara run down your face.

“it was something i hadn’t felt with you in a while.”

you stared at him. you just sat and stared.

“and it’s not that i don’t… look, i love you, y/n,” stiles reached out to grab your hand, and you were too frozen to move. “but i don’t think i’m in love with you anymore.”

those words sent your entire world crashing down. all those plans and dreams you had felt like they were just fading away, the product of your heart being destroyed by the only person you had ever trusted with it.

after almost a minute of dead silence between not only the two of you, but majority of the restaurant, you managed to find your voice again.

“what’s her name?” you asked shakily. you didn’t want to know how they met, or when. you didn’t want to know how long it had been with him thinking about doing this. you just wanted a name.

“uh, her name’s lydia,” stiles mumbled and you forced a smile, your lips trembling.

“pretty name,” you nodded and looked down at the wine-stained tablecloth.

not a word was shared between the two of you until stiles inhaled deeply, slowly standing up.

then he went up to one of the waiters, paid the bill, and left you in the restaurant. alone.

eventually the restaurant fell back into its original chatter, though there were some whispers of “what a sad sight.”

your hands found their way to your face, your elbows sitting on the table as you cried.

you sat at that table until the restaurant closed.

after dessert and then paying, you and isaac started leaving the restaurant.

“i had a nice time tonight,” you told him, holding your bag close to your body. “no matter how distracted i seemed.”

the two of you had stopped on the footpath outside the door, so it wasn’t hard to notice stiles and his fiancé as they left the restaurant too.

you froze again, staring at stiles and his unreadable expression on his face.

“um,” isaac looked from your face, then followed your gaze to see stiles. “i’ll call you tomorrow. goodnight, y/n.”

“bye, isaac.”

as isaac walked away you looked down at your shoes as stiles’ fiancé kissed him.

“hey, lyd, why don’t you go to the car,” he handed her the keys. “i’ll catch up in a minute.”

“no problem,” she smiled, kissing his cheek before walking away, her high heels clicking as she went.

there was a silence as you looked up to watch her.

“hey,” stiles spoke to you, taking a few steps so he was standing beside you. it had been so long since he was this close.

“hi,” you mumbled before sighing. “so that’s lydia.”

“yeah,” stiles nodded. “that’s her.”

“she’s pretty,” you said softly. “really pretty.”

“yeah, she is,” a faint smile ghosted on stiles’ lips and you looked down.

“are you in love with her?” you asked and there was a quiet moment on stiles’ end.

“yeah, i am,” he answered and it was like you were in that restaurant all over again, sitting beneath the dim lights and feeling your heart breaking in your chest.

all those emotions had come back a second time and realizing he would never be able to love you like that made you want to cry.

“congratulations, by the way,” you told him. “when’s the wedding?”

“a few months,” he replied, his hands slipping into the pockets of his pants.

there was a silence between the two of you for a moment.

“i’m sorry, y/n,” stiles spoke and you shrugged.

you were still in that restaurant, the moment constantly played over in your head. the exact moment he told you that after five years, he didn’t want to be with you anymore.

he wasn’t in love with you anymore.

a part of you wished he would take everything back. decide he didn’t actually want to be with lydia. that he would come back to you, and you would gladly fall in love with him all over again, because you never really fell out of love.

then, once again, stiles left you alone at a restaurant.

you watched as he walked down to the parking lot and climbed into the driver’s seat of a car, kissing lydia after he closed the door.

of course in your mind, that was you he was kissing. the two of you were still happily together, the way things were supposed to be.

in your fantasy, stiles had proposed to you that night at the restaurant and the two of you got married, and there was only happiness and love between the two of you.

but as you watched the car pull out of the parking lot, reality hit you in the face again and you were ripped from your delusions as the car disappeared around the corner.

so you took a deep breath and forced one foot in front of the other, finally walking to your car.

a/n: just wrote this whole thing in one sitting in 3 hours (it’s currently 3:38 am)

tags: @brvceyamada

#stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #dylan o’brien #dylan o’brien x reader #taylor swift #isaac lahey #evermore #stiles stilinski oneshot #angst #rwylm #right where you left me #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinski fanfiction

[roseghoul26]

Charles Smith x gn!Reader

"Keeping your hand on his cheek, your lips brushed the shell of his ear. 'Although, I do think you looked rather beautiful.' He practically shuddered, a pleased smile on your mouth as you leaned back again. Keeping only a few inches between your faces, you watched as his eyes flicked down to your lips before returning up. 'Yeah?' You don’t think you’ve ever heard his voice so low." Synopsis: A brush with hypothermia forces you and Charles to camp out in an abandoned cabin. Having to resort to some more intimate means of survival, will you be able to keep your feelings in check for the hunter, or will the proximity force you to confess?

Tags: Fluff, Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hypothermia, Huddling for Warmth, yes this is a cuddle for warmth fic, idc if its cheesy, Oral Sex, Gender-Neutral Reader, Fem Anatomy for Reader, Face-Sitting, Love Confessions, but in a twist its not the reader who gets frozen, surprise!

Author's Note: listened to chappell roan the entire time while writing this (hence the title). i also got so distracted by stardew valley my addiction has returned also, there’s a moment where the reader touches charles’ hair. as a non-indigenous person, i’m not fully educated when it comes to hair and the importance it holds in native american culture. i did research, but i could still be wrong. if i have made any errors, please let me know, and i will change it. 

If you never had to see snow again, you’d die happy. 

Tightening the fur coat around your body, you tried to preserve what heat you had left in you. The cold air of Colter was like a leech, sucking you dry of any warmth and joy. And it wasn’t just affecting you, you noticed. Glancing around the room, everyone seemed to be in a similar situation, with as many furs and clothes on their bodies as they huddled around the laughably small fire. 

The gang had been in Colter for about a week, hiding away from the law after the disaster that was Blackwater. You don’t remember much from that day, most of it a blur in your memories, but you remember the bloodshed. Pointless, ruthless bloodshed. You hoped you’d never see something like that again. 

Shivering, you almost regretted giving your extra jacket to Abigail, who had wrapped it around Jack. You were only feet from the fire, but it might as well have been hundreds of miles away with the way it was doing nothing to warm you. With a huff, you rubbed your fingers together, simply sitting and passing the time until someone asked you to do something or you had to go back on guard duty. That was all you could do, really, the snow and remote location making it impossible for you to do your normal robbing and thieving. 

There were many times during this week that you’d debated leaving the gang after you all made it out of Colter. You’d only joined about a year and a half ago, Dutch personally inviting you to his group after hearing about your notoriety across the states. Sure, it was nice to have a group like this, but this wasn’t what you signed up for, especially the events at Blackwater. You were promised opportunity and freedom, not brutality and hiding and cold-blooded murder. You wondered, would it be easy to slip away?

Sighing, you slumped forward, and your  legs were numb from sitting on the hard floor. You were on the precipice of coming to a decision, but there were still some things preventing you from taking the leap. You’d become somewhat close with the members of the gang, your lone wolf attitude dissipating as you created bonds with the others. It was easy to get along with Arthur, the two of you becoming fast friends, frequently doing jobs together. You spent most nights chatting with the girls in camp, chatting until late in the night. You respected Hosea, and even Dutch for some time, the recent events shattering that respect for him. To some degree you’d created a connection with each member of the camp, keeping you tethered to one place. 

There was one person in particular, however, that kept pushing those thoughts of leaving out of your mind. Charles Smith, the taciturn hunter that you’d become weirdly fond of these past few months. You’re not sure what you’d call your relationship with the man. The two of you were friendly, maybe even friends. When Dutch sent you out on jobs together, it always ended well, working together quite decently, if you’d say so yourself. 

Still, you wished you were closer with him, but it wasn’t for a lack of trying. You found it hard to try and initiate conversation with him, never quite knowing what to say that wouldn’t make you seem like a fool. And when you would talk to him, it felt like you were just talking at him, but if he was annoyed by you, he never showed. He’d just politely nod along, adding a few words here and there. 

But you knew he didn’t dislike you, finding him frequently looking at you around camp, just silently observing. Whenever you’d catch him, he’d just give you a polite smile, before turning away to do something else. Every time he did it, you found yourself grow bashful, your heart skipping in your chest. His starting was certainly not helping the infatuation you had with him.

Yes, your stupid heart had fallen for him, making it hurt to even entertain the idea of leaving. It was ridiculous and irresponsible to have feelings for him, and you knew that. They’d been there since he joined, and you figured that they would’ve gone away by now, but that was months ago. You’d never met a man like him before, someone so strong and fearsome, yet honorable and kind at the exact same time, and you figured that’s why you were so drawn to him.

Arthur knew about your feelings for the man, drunkley telling him during a night out at the bar in Blackwater a few months ago. He almost said something to Charles, who was somewhere in the same bar that night, claiming that ‘this life is unpredictable’ and ‘you gotta do somethin’ before it’s too late’, but you quickly shut that down with a swift kick to the shins. But that didn’t mean he stopped asking you if you’d done anything yet, and each time you’d respond with ‘no’. 

You knew that Charles didn’t think of you that way. You’re unpredictable, reckless, fiery, everything opposite of what Charles is. Where you were chaos, he was calm. Fire, water. And you didn’t want to ruin what relationship you had with him, so you kept your mouth shut (and never got too drunk around him).

A gust of sharp cold wind and the creak of a door broke you from your thoughts, a shiver wracking your body as you turned to see who just entered the cabin. In some cruel timing from the universe, the man who had just been haunting your mind walked in, a fresh dusting of snow hitting the ground as he shook out his jacket. A chorus of greetings came from the group collected around the fire, a gentle smile coming from you before you turned back to face the fire. Charles calling out your name had you slowly turning to him again. 

“Will you go hunting with me? The deer me and Arthur caught didn’t last as long as we’d hoped.” You now noticed the bow in his hand, along with a small quiver of arrows.

“I mean, sure,” you stood up, your cold muscles aching as you stretched, “but I ain’t much of a hunter, ya know. I usually end up scarin’ away animals instead of catchin’ ‘em. The others might be more well-suited for this.”

“But I’m asking you. And I can’t exactly do it myself.” Charles held the bow and arrows out for you to grab. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes.” Not like I could ever say no to you, you thought as you took the weapon and slung it over your shoulder, and secured the quiver on your hip. “Let’s go.”

With a nod, Charles opened the door, holding it open to let you step outside into the harsh Colter weather. Wincing at the bright light bouncing off the white snow, you were temporarily blinded as you made your way to where your horses were, Charles not far behind you. A light snowfall came down around you as you walked, not terrible visibility wise, but enough to be obvious. You just hoped that it wouldn’t pick up later. 

There was probably a good foot-and-a-half of snow on the ground, making your movement sluggish and awkward. From what little you knew about tracking, though, it meant that it would be easy to pick up an animal's track, so for that you were somewhat grateful. 

It didn’t take long for you to reach your horses, and you went to mount up, only to notice that your horse just wasn’t there. Spinning around, you looked to see if maybe she got unhitched and wandered somewhere nearby, but there was nothing. Whistling, you waited a few moments, seeing if you’d hear the sound of hoofbeats and winnings, but there was nothing. She was just gone.

As Charles mounted, looking equally as confused as you were, you turned and  looked to see who was currently on guard duty, thinking maybe they had seen something. “Javier!” You called out, the poor man nearly jumping out of his skin at the sudden loud noise. “Where’s Hera?”

“Arthur took her!” He shouted back, and you couldn’t help groaning in annoyance. I’m gonna kill you, Arthur Morgan. 

“And you let him?” Javier had made his way over to you now, and you saw him open his mouth to respond, but you stopped him with a wave. “Nevermind, it’s not your fault or your responsibility. I’m just… frustrated.” You took a deep breath, and a cloud left your lips as you exhaled.  “Where’d Arthur go?” You heard the ground crunch behind you as Charles approached on Taima. 

“I dunno,” Javier shrugged. “Him, Dutch, Micah, and Bill went out a few minutes ago, he’s been borrowing everyone else’s horse since his died. Guess it was Hera’s turn.”

“Well, shit,” you sighed, crossing your arms. “You don’t reckon they’ll be back soon, right? Maybe they forgot somethin’?” You missed the way Charles let out an amused huff, your back facing him as you conversed with Javier. 

Javier lightly chuckled. “Look, if you need to go, I’ll let you use Boaz for a bit. It’s not like I’ll be needing him for a bit,” he gestured to the repeater currently in his hands. “If anything happens to him though…” he threatened, gesturing again to the weapon in his hands.

You were about to respond, but Charles beat you to it. “Or you could ride with me. If you’d like.”

You tried to keep your face neutral as you turned to respond, but you had to stop and glare at Javier who was sniggering. Apparently your facial expressions weren’t as subtle as you believed. Thank God you had your back turned, then. 

You turned again, and when you weren't so rudely interrupted by Javier’s childish antics, you responded to Charles. “Are you sure?”

He extended his non-injured hand to you as he nodded. “We gotta get moving though. Only a few hours of sunlight left.”

“Alright.” You linked your hand with his, letting him help you on to the back of his horse with ease. Javier had long since left, already halfway back to his guard post, not before giving you a knowing smile. As you wrapped your hands around his waist, you tried and failed to keep your breathing even, your heartrate picking up substantially. 

Sighing, you refrained from resting your head against his back. This was pure torture, but you knew you were going to enjoy it.

Thank you, Arthur Morgan… I’m still gonna kill you, though. 

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

He wasn’t quite sure why he offered to let you ride with him on Taima; he was just making it harder for himself to stay away from you. He scolded himself, because someone else had your heart, and he would just end up hurting his own if he kept doing things like this. 

The two of you had sped out of Colter, Charles setting a brisk pace that made the air bite at his skin. The pain was good, as it distracted him from thinking of you. You, who subconsciously shifted closer to him to shield yourself from the air. He felt you adjust behind him until his larger frame was shielding you entirely. 

He expected you to have started talking by now, making some comment about the weather or cursing Arthur out. When you didn’t he felt himself start to grow a bit panicked. Did I make you uncomfortable? Is this too much?

He kept his voice steady, and he gently called out your name. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“I figure that must come as a relief.” 

I could listen to you for hours, he thought. I don’t ever want to stop hearing your voice. “Are you alright?”

He felt you shift behind him, your hands tightening where they sat on his waist. Your touch wasn’t even improper, yet he still found his breath hitching in his throat. Charles just prayed that the howling winds around the two of you drowned it out. “I think so. It just… this place is really terrible.” When he nodded in agreement, you continued. “And I’ve got a lot on my mind. Blackwater, the gang, my future… It's a little bit overwhelming.”

“Do you…  want to talk about it?” He offered, and you sighed. 

“I… I can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout Blackwater, ‘bout everything we did wrong, what we should’ve done differently, the choices we made. But I especially can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout that girl that Dutch murdered. The way he killed her, no mercy or falter, I ain’t even seen nothin’ like that from him before. Or maybe I chose to look away before…” you trailed off.

“You’re not the one who pulled the trigger. Dutch is the only person guilty of that.”

“Maybe I didn’t pull the trigger, but I’m sure as hell ain’t innocent. I could’ve- should’ve done somethin’. There was plenty of time for me to.”

“Don’t go beating yourself up about the past. The only thing we can hope to do is learn from it and continue on towards the future.”

“But the future is just as terrifying as the past! I’m scared for the gang, for its future. We’ve become so bloodthirsty, and now all Dutch talks about is revenge.” Your voice was becoming more and more distressed. “Is that what we’ve turned into? A bunch of no-good killers who think with their guns? I ain’t- I don’t wanna be that. That ain’t what I joined up for.”

Charles didn’t know how to respond to that. He’d noticed that shift in the gang over the last few weeks, the members become quicker to jump to violence and bloodshed. He wasn’t a saint, the blood on his hands equal to yours, but he was even becoming disturbed by the amount of unnecessary killings happening. 

“I’m thinkin’ ‘bout leaving.” Your voice was barely a whisper, like you were ashamed to say it. Charles stilled, shock running through his system. “Once we get out of here. This… this isn’t what I wanna do. I don’t wanna be associated with the Van Der Linde gang if it’s gonna continue heaidn’ in the direction it’s goin’. And I don’t wanna find myself at the end of a lawman’s barrel, noose ‘round my neck.”

“Oh.” Charles found himself at an impasse; did he just keep his mouth shut, or say something that might reveal too much? If you truly wanted to leave, then he didn’t want to guilt you into staying by revealing his true feelings. He understood why you wanted to leave, those same thoughts frequenting his mind as well, but he’d found a reason to stay: you. He hadn't told Arthur that when he asked why Charles was still hanging around a few days ago. His conversation with the other man when they hunted had solidified his stay with the gang, for better or for worse.

Did you feel the same way? You fool, Charles chastised himself. They don’t want you that way.

“Does anyone else know?” 

“No,” you sighed. “You’re the only one.”

A selfish part of him was glad that he was the only one that knew, but he quickly pushed those thoughts away. “Well,” he began, “the only thing I can say is to not do something that you’ll regret… and just know that there’s a lot of people here that will really miss you if you decide to leave.” I will miss you so much that it hurts.

He felt your head connect with his back as you slumped forward, and he jolted at the contact. “Why can’t you just make the decision for me, Charles? I trust your judgment.”

Stay. Please, stay, he screamed in his head. “I can’t tell you what to do, how to live your life. Unfortunately, the decision comes to you,” was his reply. 

“You’re right. You’re always right, Charles,” you laughed half-heartedly. “I haven’t made up my mind yet. Still got a ways until I have to.”

“Whatever decision you come to, I’ll support you.” Liar. “Just… don’t leave without saying goodbye, you hear?”

“I promise. Now,” your usual chipperness returned to your voice, “where are we headin’?”

He explained that he was taking the two of you to Lake Isabella, following the Spider Gorge down. The lake had started to melt, meaning animals were more likely to start coming out as the weather warmed. As the two of you rode, you kept close to him, significantly closer than you were when you left. 

Charles pretended not to notice.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

There wasn’t much to look at on the ride down. Everything was white, splashes of black rock breaking up the monotonous landscape, and the occasional tree made itself known. There weren’t any animals, not even a rabbit. It was like you and Charles were the only living souls in the area.

You only spotted a couple of buildings, two of them a small cabin that could house one or two people. One was absolutely destroyed, time and weather causing the ceiling to collapse in, only a skeleton remaining. The other still stood, smoke coming out of the chimney, but you had no idea if the occupants were home or not. 

Taking a mental note of the building, before returning your attention back forward. Charles seemed to be content with just riding in silence, so you settled against him, your head nearly resting on his shoulder. You hadn’t meant to spill so much to Charles, and you certainly hadn’t meant to tell him that you thought about leaving. It’s just that you felt so comfortable with him that you couldn’t help the words from coming out, and you felt ten pounds lighter because of it. 

You didn’t want to drag another person into your troubles, especially over something so trivial in comparison to what the rest of the gang was going through. A part of you wanted this to be the moment in all those cheesy romances you read where the love interest confesses their feelings in order to make the main character stay. But this was real life, and this was Charles you were talking about, the man who would put everyone’s needs before his, even if it hurt. And besides, Charles had never done or said anything that gave you the impression that he had feelings for you. From what you could tell, he saw you as a friend, and nothing else.

Right?

God, you were so desperate for the man you held on to. 

He made no comment when you did actually rest your head on his shoulder. If he did ask why, you’d just say you were cold. You knew you just wanted to pretend that he was yours. 

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. It did little to calm your erratic heart. 

Eventually, the partially frozen Lake Isabella came into view. This area wasn’t too unfamiliar to either you or Charles, having been there a few days prior to dispatch a group of O’Driscolls. Having opened your eyes a few moments prior, you were able to make out a few deer drinking from the newly exposed lake water. You gestured to them, but Charles had already seen them, bringing Taima to a halt behind a large bush.

By this time, the snow had begun to pick up, the sheets coming down obscuring your view ever so slightly. But it wasn’t enough to force you indoors. 

Dismounting as quietly as you could, you readied the bow in your hands, letting Charles lead the way as he snuck closer to them. It was almost supernatural, the way he was able to move so silently. For someone of his stature, you’d never expect him to be able to move so quietly and with such ease, yet here he was. You tried your best to move like him, taking a bit longer as you followed in his footsteps. Charles led you around the edge of the lake, the shore edge mere inches from your feet, occasionally splashing against your shoes. 

Luckily, the deer hadn’t noticed either you or Charles, still drinking without a care in the world. He had stopped by now, moving to the side to let you move ahead. The deer were in range by now, and you only needed to move a few feet closer, making you halt underneath a large tree. The branches drooped under the weight of the snow, a few globs falling off and hitting the ground around you. 

Weirdly enough, you felt at peace. Not because of the hunting, but because of the man who stood a few yards behind you. You felt safe under his gaze, like nothing could hurt you. As you drew the arrow back, you let out a confused noise as the deer suddenly scattered, spooked by something you couldn’t see. 

You turned to look back at Charles, but you realized then that you probably shouldn't've had your guard down so much. A large weight dropped on you from the tree, too heavy and too warm to be just snow. You let out a startled cry, blocking out Charles shouting out your name, panic seeping into his voice. 

Whatever fell on you landed on your back, your face pressed in the snow as you lay on your stomach. It clicked now that there was someone on you, a hand yanking your head back by your hair, warm breath assaulting your face as your attacker spoke. You couldn’t quite make out what exactly he was saying, snow and shock causing your hearing to be spotty. All you were able to make out were a few curses, the word “kill” multiple times, and some racist phrases aimed toward Charles.

Even before the initial shock had worn off, you were fighting back, squirming and moving desperately against the man’s grip. He just laughed, then you heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked. He rested the barrel against the back of your neck, the cold metal pressing against the exposed skin. Dread washed over you, numbing your senses far beyond what the cold could do. With the way the man gripped your head, you couldn’t move it, and you strained your eyes as you looked around, desperate to find Charles. Is he alright? Please, let him be alright. 

You saw a flash of movement out of the corner of your eye, and as soon as the weight was on you, it was gone. An alarmed yell left your attacker as he was tackled off of you, being pushed a fair distance before falling onto the frozen Lake Isabella. Rolling over, your hand fell into the cold water, and you quickly pulled it back.

Standing as quickly as you could, the world spun for a moment, your body confused with the many different orientations you were just in. Pressing your back against the tree for stability, you watched as Charles and your attacker rolled far across the ice. You saw the distinct green handkerchief around his neck, and you couldn’t help the exasperated groan that left you. No matter where you went or what you did, you couldn’t escape the O’Driscolls. 

Shouts from behind you had you spinning around, quickly drawing your revolver, the bow long since discarded on the ground. Three more O’Driscolls came running from the woods, only a few yards away from you now, their cries of alarm coming from the two bodies of their members lying in the snow, which you had just noticed. Keeping your aim steady, you took three shots, the gunshots cracking through the still air. The first one hit right in the heart, the second one finding a home between his eyes, and the third one hit the final O’Driscoll right above the shoulder, merely grazing the skin, and the only non-fatal shot. Still, it caused all three of them to hit the snow.

With the final man falling relatively close to you, you ran over to him. Pulling him up by the scruff of his shirt, you held your revolver right below his chin, the hot metal burning his skin. He could not have been more than eighteen years old, a sliver of childhood innocence still left in his eyes as he stared up at you, fear and pain rendering him mute. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You snarled, pressing the barrel harder into his skin. “Gimme one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right here, boy?”

Your words seemed to go in one ear and out the other, a few tears leaving him as he stared at you blankly. He was shaking, and you wondered how long he’d run with the O’Driscolls for. He was obviously young, and if this was his reaction to being held at gunpoint, you gathered that he didn’t have a whole lot of outlaw experience under his belt. Against every instinct in your body telling you otherwise, you felt yourself loosen your grip on the boy, a pang of sympathy running through you. 

Sighing in exasperation, you holster your gun, a relieved noise leaving him as you did. Glancing forward, you saw two horses hitched to the trees, seemingly the rides that they came in on. “Go,” you waved. “You ain’t even grown.”

“Th-thank you!” He nearly wept, getting to his feet shakily. 

“But if I ever see ya again, especially as a damn O’Driscoll,” your hand hovered above your weapon. “I’ll not hesitate to put a bullet in your head. You hear me?”

“Y-yes.” He clutched at his shoulder. 

“Now go!” you shouted. “Get outta here! Before I change my mind.” As soon as he sped off toward the horses, you turned back toward the lake. Charles stood above your attacker, beating the life out of the man, his face pure crimson. He was using his injured hand, but he paid it no mind. Blow after blow, Charles’s strikes hit true, the thuds echoing across the water.

You really should not have found it as attractive as you did. 

You let yourself watch for a few moments longer, before you were snapping out of it. “Charles!” You called out. Immediately, he was looking up at you, the man below him no longer even on his mind. Wiping away a smear of blood on his cheek, he slowly made his way toward you, his steps slow across the ice. 

Concern etched across his features as his eyes raked over your body, looking for any injury or hurt on you. “Are you alright?” You asked, trying your best to push down the flush of your cheeks as he stalked towards you. He had an almost murderous glint in his eye, his movement predatory; you especially should not have found that attractive. 

“Did he hurt you?” He completely brushed off your question, his eyes wide with panic. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this disheveled and worried before. 

“Only my pride.” You sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Charles opened his mouth to respond, but was promptly cut off when the ground beneath him gave way, the weakened ice no longer strong enough to hold him. Immediately, he was submerged under the water, but luckily he was close enough to the shore that it wasn’t too deep. He reemerged seconds later, sputtering and coughing. 

As soon as you heard the crack of the ice, you were running toward the edge, stepping precariously on the ice. In retrospect, it wasn’t the smartest idea, especially when you started walking towards where Charles fell through, but at the time you didn’t care. All that mattered was getting him out. 

Scanning around, you quickly assessed the best way to save him. The hole that was created was way big enough so he could get his arm up, but as soon as he pressed at the ice it shattered, unable to hold anything. As you stepped closer, you felt it begin to break as well, and you quickly moved back to the shore. 

“Fuck…” your hands went to you head, your gloved fingers pulling at your hair. A large stick from the tree you assaulted jumped down from sparked an idea. Grabbing it, you started chipping away at the ice, smashing and breaking it until a path big enough for Charles to go through was created. Standing at the shore, however, you realized  that neither your arms or the stick was long enough to reach the man, who was starting to get dragged down from the weight of the water in his clothes. 

Quickly unhooking your lasso from your belt, you created a loop for him to grab on to, throwing it at him with an accuracy from years and years of practice. It landed right in front of him, and he grabbed on to it as quickly as he could, his movement sluggish. Wrapping it around your hands, you began to pull him to shore. “Hold on!” you shouted at him, and he let out a noise in response. You’d take that over nothing.

It wasn’t incredibly hard to pull him closer, the water helping carry him over. But once he got to the shore, and you discarded the rope, pulling him up onto the land proved to be almost impossible. Grabbing underneath his arms, you pulled with all the strength you had, the muscles in your back and shoulders crying out in pain, but you paid them no mind. It took an incredible amount of effort, but eventually he was fully out of the water, laying splayed out in the cold snow. 

You didn’t let yourself get a moment to recover, instantly running over to his side. Turning his head toward you, you let out a sigh of relief when you say his eyes flutter open. He was absolutely drenched, his heavy winter gear made even heavier with water, and you watched him begin to shake and his teeth begin to shatter. And, if your luck wasn’t already terrible enough, a full on snowstorm had started, causing cold blasts of snow and wind to pelt your bodies. Chalres shivered even harder, and you let out helped sit him upright. “We gotta get you indoors, and soon. You ain’t gonna-” a lump formed in your throat at the thought. “It ain’t gonna be good for you if you stay out here. I’ll need your help, though. I can’t lift you on my own. Just… just find what energy you can to get up. Please.” You couldn’t help the panic in your voice. To say you were scared would be an understatement. 

You’re not quite sure he fully comprehended what you said, but he started to get up, and you forced him to lean a bit of his body weight against you as he did so. When he was up, you slung his arm over your shoulder, nearly sagging under his weight as he nearly collapsed. You called for Taima, whistlin the same pattern you’d heard Charles use for her. 

Within seconds, the sound of neighing and hoofbeats filled your ears, his loyal steed coming to a halt right in front of the two of you. She let out a worried snort, and you reassured her with some soothing noises. “Alright, Charles. Here comes the worst part.” It took quite a bit of maneuvering and effort, but after a minute Charles sat where you did on the ride there. 

His eyes, which were onced unfocused and confused, had regained some clarity to them, and you heard him mutter out your name. You smiled as reassuringly as you could, before you were mounting up on Taima, sitting in the saddle and the reins in your hands. “Hold on, darlin’.” You were too panicked to notice the name slip out, and you took the gasp from Charles as being from the cold. 

With little urging, Taima moved forward, almost immediately breaking into a gallop. You led her back up the trail, heading toward the cabin you saw on the way down. It would take too long to return back to Colter, and with the way the storm raged around you, you doubted either of you would be able to make it. 

As you rode, you felt Charles slump against you, exhaustion taking over his body. You reached behind with one hand, grabbing his knee and shaking him awake. “I know you hate me right now, but I need you to stay awake for me… please.”

He grumbled something in reply, his speech slurred and indecipherable. 

“I’m gonna talk at you, like I always do,” you tried to joke. “And you’re gonna do what you do, which is nod along and pretend you care. Just… just stay awake. You hear me?”

“I care…” you heard him protest, and you just shook your head.

“Uh-huh.” The wind was biting into your cheeks, and your eyes were watering, but you didn’t dare slow. You filled the couple minute ride with your voice, telling stories of your childhood, or random anecdotes you’d picked up from your travels, to recounting the bar fight you’d gotten into a few weeks prior. Charles, despite being exhausted, kept alert, giving one-word responses from time to time. 

He shivered the entire time, and you couldn’t tell if that was worrying or comforting. Panic was steadily bubbling in your chest, finding it hard to keep focus on your stories. Halfway through the ride, much like you did, he rested his head on your shoulder, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck. You suppressed a surprised noise as you felt the freezing skin against your own, his nose and lips unnervingly cold. 

“Stay with me, Charles.”

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

It was cold. 

Everything was cold.

Could hair get cold? It sure felt like it. Charles had never felt such coldness in his life before, and he never wanted to experience it again.

He should’ve never gone on to the ice, his brain was screaming at him.

But he had led with his heart, shoving the man off you and following him on to the ice. As soon as he had seen you go down, the other man on top of you, it was like time had slowed down. He had seen red, the two men attempting to hold him down quickly meeting their ends at the hands of his fury. 

He prided himself on being able to keep calm in situations, his anger rarely ever taking a hold of him, and it had never happened since he joined the gang. Guess that streak was broken now. Not that he had any regrets.

Well, he had a few.

He should’ve registered the footprints in the snow leading up to the base of the tree. He should’ve noticed something was wrong, should’ve not been so distracted by you. He should’ve said something.

Maybe none of this would’ve happened then.

But he’s just a man, and man is selfish. He was glad this happened.

Without this happening, he wouldn’t have his arms wrapped around your body, his face buried into your neck breathing you in. Without this, you wouldn’t have called him darling, causing his heart to thump erratically in his chest. Without this, he wouldn’t have been able to pretend right now that you and him were more than friends, a fantasy that he had played out a million times in his dreams.

You were talking to him, but he couldn’t make the words out. A shiver wracked his body, and he burrowed deeper. God, he was so cold. And so tired.It would be so easy to just close his eyes, to let unconsciousness wash over him… 

He was jolted awake by a hearty shake of his knee, and he heard your voice break through the fog of his brain. 

You had such a lovely voice. He hated how worried it sounded, and all because of him. Or maybe he was happy you were worried about him. He couldn’t tell. Everything was unclear. The only thing he was certain about was the fuzzy feeling in his chest that grew with each glance and each soft word from you.

He was in love with you.

Stupidly in love, in fact. 

He couldn’t stop himself, the words tumbling from his lips like a freefall. But it came out as gibberish, and he felt you shake your head, unable to comprehend him.

That’s alright. He’d repeat it as many times as you needed. 

And as another shiver tore through him, he felt you rub his thigh reassuringly. Despite the thick material of your gloves, he could feel the warmth of your skin, practically burning against his frosty skin. The butterflies in his chest bubbled to life, and he couldn’t stop the small laugh he let out. 

He was infatuated.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

The short ride felt like forever, the monotonous landscape that had once been soothing now tormenting you as you searched for the cabin you saw prior. The smoke trail was impossible to spot out in the snowstorm, so you used what limited navigation skills you had to get you there. 

Eventually, the frame of the cabin broke through the sheet of snow, and you nearly cried in relief. You were starting to freeze, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how Charles was feeling. Taima huffed as you brought her alongside the entrance, the steam from her snout dissipating instantly. Quickly dismounting, Charles nearly fell off when you moved, slowly slipping into unconsciousness. 

“Oh, no you don’t,” you snarled, roughly shaking him awake. Yes, you were threatening the hypothermic man. No, you did not care. You were almost inside, and you were not going to lose him. “Do not pass out on me, Charles Smith. Now, let’s get you off Taima.”

Charles muttered out an apology, his eyes reopening as he struggled to get off. His clothes were starting to solidify, clumps of ice forming across his jacket. You helped as best you could, catching him when his feet made contact with the ground, nearly sending you both to the snow. Again, you slung his arm over your shoulder, your other arm holding your gun as you entered the cabin, ready to clear out any homeowners. 

A blast of heat hit both of you as you creaked the door open slowly, and you heard Charles sigh with relief. A quick scan around proved that it was empty, and you gently set Chalres in front of the still burning fire. You realized now that the occupants were probably some of the O’Driscolls that just jumped you, and the cabin now stood empty for you and Charles. Relaxing slightly, you put away your gun, then added a few more logs to the fire pit, the flames lapping at the wood eagerly. 

To call the cabin small would be an understatement. It was large enough to fit both you and Charles comfortably, but you can’t imagine that the few O’Driscolls camping here temporarily had a lot of legroom . A single twin sized bed was lined up against the wall, cloth and other materials covering the windows beside it. There was a fireplace, a small stewpot, a nightstand, and a chair. Extra sleeping bags and rugs adorned the floor, a few cans of fruits and vegetables scattered across the floor. You saw the occasional empty bottle of alcohol, and you even found a pack of cigarettes. 

Charles seemed to wake some, the warmth of the fire breathing some life back into him. You saw him look around, body still shaking. He looked even worse than you thought, his normally warm-toned skin devoid of any color, and his hair was plastered to his face. As you crouched down in front of him, you went to push back a few strands, your gloves long since discarded, but you refrained. 

“A-Are you alright?” You heard him ask again through chattering teeth, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Even though he saw freezing, likely suffering from hypothermia, he was more worried about your well being.

“I’m not the one who fell into the freezing lake. What were you thinking?” You weren’t angry, your words surprisingly gentle despite the fear in your heart. 

“I-I wasn’t… I-” his body cut him off, shivers wracking his body. 

“We gotta get these clothes off of you,” you picked at the offending garment, the material barely budging. You started to work the heavy coat off his shoulders, the roaring wind outside the only noise.

Suddenly, Charles was grabbing at your wrist, stalling your movement. You were halfway done with taking it off, the water melting off of it coating your hands. “Taima…” you heard him say.

“I’ll go make sure she’s secure,” you quickly rose to your feet. “Just get undressed. We need to get you warmed up.”

Stepping outside, the gusts hitting your body caused you to let out a curse. Taima was  still where you left her, stomping impatiently in the ground, shaking out her coat as she tried to keep warm. When you clicked your tongue, she came prancing over, ready to get out of the wind. 

You led her to the attached stall, which was in pretty decent condition. It blocked out a lot of the wind, and it shared a wall with the fireplace, letting some of the warmth to the horses as well. There was some hay left scattered on the ground, and you took off her saddle, setting it on the stand. You left the horse blanket on, giving her some extra protection. 

When you were done, you moved to leave, and you felt Taima brush affectionately against your head, nuzzling her snout into your shoulder. Laughing, you pet her neck affectionately before she removed herself to continue eating at the hay. Making sure the gate was secure, you headed back into the cabin. 

Charles was still undressing when you entered, his back to you. Even his undershirt was soaked through, the material clinging to his body like a second skin. It was at that point it clicked that the man you were infatuated with was going to be bare before you soon. You found yourself turning away, uncharacteristically embarrassed, shrugging off your own jacket and laying across the back of the chair. If it was any other person, you’d’ve not reacted this way, your lifestyle not allowing for much privacy. But of course it had to be Charles getting undressed in front of you, and you found yourself growing quite warm. 

Taking the lasso from your belt, you strung it across the room, making a makeshift clothesline to hopefully dry his clothes faster. His jacket, which was a wet pile of fur, was the first to be hung up, the rope creaking precariously under the weight. Luckily, it held, and you added each new item as he took it off. 

You made sure not to look directly at Charles, and you saw in your peripheral vision as he worked off his shirt. Your throat was suddenly dry, hands shaky as you continued to hang items up. Why, out of all people, did it have to be Charles? It was like God was tormenting you, giving you what, but keeping it just out of reach. 

You must’ve made a noise, because Charles was turning toward you, concerned. You finally let yourself look at him. He was partially done unbuttoning his shirt, the collar open, but you saw that he was struggling with the small buttons, his fingers barely working. “May I?” you asked, gesturing toward his shirt. The sooner he was out of the wet garment, the better.

He paused for a second, contemplating. “Yes,” he consented, lowering his hand at his side. Stepping forward, your hands resumed his work, quickly undoing the rest of it. Do not make a big deal of this, you repeated in your mind. You were simply helping a friend not die from hypothermia, not unbuttoning the shirt of the person you were hopelessly in love with. He shrugged it off, practically peeling it from his body. You were especially careful to only look him in the eye now, not daring to look at his newly exposed chest. 

Turning your back to him to hang up the shirt, the unmistakable clang of his belt hitting the floor had you stilling. Exhaling shakily, you heard him take off the remainder of his clothes, all making themselves comfortable on the floor. You didn’t dare turn around to grab them. Instead, you headed towards the bed, pulling off the heavy duvet. Walking backwards, you held it out to him behind you. You heard him murmur out a small thanks, taking the blanket from your outstretched arms. 

You gave him a few moments. “Are you… decent?” you asked, keeping your gaze up even with your back turned. When he gave a noise of confirmation, you finally turned back around. After situating his discarded clothing, you gathered some of the canned goods strewn about before setting your boots next to Charles’ beside the fire. You sat down next to him on the various furs and bedrolls. Charles had the blanket wrapped around his body, and you tried really hard to not concentrate on the fact that he was completely bare under the duvet. 

You opened one of the cans with your knife, tossing the lid of it behind you and handing it to the man beside you. “Eat. You need to get your strength up.” You saw him open his mouth to protest, but you cut him off before he could. “There’s plenty of food for the both of us. Now, eat.” You pushed the can of what looked to be sweetcorn in his hand, and he finally took it, tipping it back into his mouth and eating slowly. 

He was still shivering, but he was slowly becoming more and more alert, and his teeth had ceased their chattering. Quickly finishing the can of food, he placed the empty can beside him, rubbing his hands together beneath the blanket. You were looking into the fire, and you could feel his eyes on you. He didn’t say anything, just observing you like he normally did. 

This time, however, it felt like his eyes were picking you apart, like he could see every secret beneath your skin. Clearing your throat, you stood up, gathering up the remainder of his clothing and hanging them up. You were scared that the longer you sat by him, the likelihood of you having to confront your secrets would increase tenfold. “You need anythin’? More food? Water? Coffee?” You asked, drying your hands on your pants. 

“I’m g-good,” he responded. 

“Have you warmed up at all?” He shrugged in response, the action barely noticeable with the heavy blanket around his shoulders. You didn’t bother to hide the concerned frown on your lips as you crouched beside him. Running the back of your hand, you winced when you were met with deathly cold skin. “Shit…” you cursed, pulling your hand away, and you failed to notice Charles chasing after your warmth.

Standing up, you began to pace the room, trying to keep the dread you felt at bay. Your mind was running wild with thoughts, all ending in worse case scenarios. Taking a deep breath, you tried your best to keep calm, just for Charles’ sake. You wouldn’t do him any good if you were freaking out. You tried to think back on the basic first aid you’d learned through the years. Most of the things you’d already done, like getting him out of wet clothing, getting him food, getting him in front of a fire. Was there anything else you could do? Or did you just have to sit and wait and pray that what you did was enough.

You knew Charles was watching you pace, doing nothing to calm your racing heart. You ran your fingers through your hair, a gasp leaving your lips when you finally remembered. Body heat, which means… oh. 

Goddamn it all. 

You hoped you didn’t look too alarmed. It’s not that you were opposed to the idea, but it would make it significantly harder to bottle up your feelings. In fact, doing this might just smash the bottle all together, causing you to spill your heart to him. “So…” you began nervously. How the hell were you supposed to ask this?

“So…?” Charles repeated, raising a brow. 

“I-I… well…” you ran your hand over your face. The wall was looking quite interesting right now. “I was wondering if you’d like… I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anythin’... if you’d like for me to share my warmth?” That sounds so weird. “It’s just, you’re not gettin’ any better… and I don’t want anythin’ to happen to you. I couldn’t bear it.” The last part you whispered, and you doubted he even heard it. 

Something flickered across Charles’ face, too quick for you to recognize. He looked conflicted, and you chewed nervously on your lips. Did I cross a line? Oh God, did I make this weird? He’s gonna hate me-

“I’d like that,” his voice cut off your minds’ rambling. 

Letting out a breath of relief, you gave him a small smile, which he returned. Okay, this is happening. Again, do not make a big deal of this. This means nothing. Your hands, which weren’t steady, began to work at your button up. Charles slowly looked away, his eyes darkening slightly. “I’m not gonna take everythin’ off,” you reassured, taking the look in his eye as concern. Taking your gun belt off and setting it on the bed, your pants and socks were off next, joining the belt, leaving you in only your undergarments. 

Slowly, you approached him, your steps uncertain across the bedrolls and furs. You tried to keep calm, but the reality of what was going to happen quite soon was causing your heart to pound against your ribs. He watched you approach, head turned back around. You couldn't imagine it was comfortable for his neck, but he didn’t seem to mind. 

Finally, you stood in front of him, partially blocking the fire, which caused your shadow to cast over Charles. Without breaking eye contact with you, he pulled the blanket back, inviting you in. Your shadow, thankfully, blocked out any newly revealed skin, but you still found a blush creeping up your neck. 

Without giving yourself a chance to back out, you sat yourself on his lap. With your legs wrapping around his hips, your ankles were barely able to interlock. His following sigh sounded pleased, and you found yourself smiling as he wrapped the blanket around the two of you, creating something akin to a cocoon. He kept his hands braced on the ground beside him, refraining from touching you.

Charles was indeed freezing, and you let out a discontent noise at the contact. “Sorry,” you more felt than heard him say, your faces mere inches apart. 

“I should be the one who’s sayin’ that…” you sighed, and you rested your hands on his shoulders, beginning the process of warming his body back to a normal temperature. “I should’ve been payin’ better attention, then we would’ve never ended up in this mess.” Not that I’m complaining too much. 

The two of you sat together for a few minutes, letting Charles simply enjoy your body heat. “I don’t think either of us were expecting an O’Driscoll to come falling out of a tree.” You heard him say.

“It certainly wasn’t on my list of things to happen today,” you laughed, your hands moving down his shoulders to his biceps. Having him under your touch like this really put into perspective his sheer size. “And neither is this. Any of this. I’m sure you weren’t plannin’ on takin’ a bath in Lake Isabella today.”

“Can’t say I was. But, you-” Charles cut himself off, his eyes widening the tiniest bit. If you weren’t so close, you probably wouldn’t have noticed. You gave him a confused look, and he just shook his head. “It’s nothing. I almost said something foolish,” he tried to dismiss, embarrassment evident on his face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say somethin’ foolish the entire time I’ve known you.” You tugged at one of his arms, bringing it between your bodies after he shifted his weight on to the other arm. You clasp his uninjured hand between yours, blowing hot air and trying your best to return some life back to the ice cubes that were his fingers. “You know I ain’t gonna tease you for what you say, right?”

“I know,” Charles sighed, but he didn’t elaborate further. You didn’t push, not wanting to wreck this moment between the two of you. You felt him flex his fingers between yours, a relieved noise leaving him as more feeling returned to them. Eventually, you let go of his hand, but it seemed like he didn’t quite know where to put it, hovering a few inches above your waist before returning back to the ground. “You can touch me, Charles.”

You held back a content noise when you finally felt him grasp your waist, his fingers resting on the waistband of your undergarments. Occasionally, his fingers would brush your bare skin, your undershirt having rid up when you had sat down, and you felt goosebumps erupt across your skin. 

Moving to his injured hand, you eyed the now wrecked bandage, blood and water causing the material to practically dissolve. You tsked disapprovingly, and began to peel off the old wrapping, discarding them across the cabin. You were expecting to see the wound completely reopened, especially because of the punches he threw at the O’Driscoll, but were pleasantly surprised to find a pretty much healed injury. It was slightly irritated, sure, but it must’ve been healed for at least a day or two.

“And here I was scared that we’d have to chop off your hand,” you joked, flipping his arm over as you examined the now scar. “This has been healed for a day or two now. You’re probably only gonna have a light scar from this.” Realization dawned on you, and you chuckled. “Charles, you could’ve gone huntin’ on your own today.”

“I could’ve.” He didn’t even bother trying to deny it. “Still, I did want to do it with you, but I could’t just ask. I needed an excuse.”

“You never need an excuse, Charles. I’ll gladly go huntin’ with you, injured hand or not.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You felt him squeeze your hip gently, a playful grin on his face. It had your stomach doing somersaults, and you tore your eyes away to begin warming up his other hand. It was strange, seeing him so carefree like this. It was a look you’d never really seen on him, but you rather enjoyed it. “Only hunting?” he asked.

“Maybe,” you teased, drawing out the syllables. “Whatcha have in mind?”

“Not quite sure yet. But it’ll just be us.”

“Like a date?” You joked, trying not to sound too hopeful. 

“Sure. Like a date.”

A giddy smile cracked across your lips, and you gingerly kissed the back of Charles’ hand before letting it go, where it immediately joined his other by settling on your waist. Your ears were burning, a flustered blush growing across your body. Here you were, sitting on a naked Charles’ lap, only the thin material of your undergarments separating the two of you, but the thing that made you bashful was him asking you on a date. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you rested your head on his shoulder. You felt him chuckle, the hands on your waist moving up your back, keeping your body pressed close to him. The digits were still a bit chilled, but you didn’t mind. The blanket around the two of you was barely hanging on at this point, and you tried your best to keep it around him. Like he did on the horse, you felt him bury his face in the crook where your neck and shoulders connected. 

Although it was significantly less cold than the last time, you still shivered at the contact. You felt his lips brush against the skin, and you could barely feel the light kiss he pressed there, gone in an instant. So many thoughts and emotions were running through your mind at that moment. You mostly felt relieved, your feelings for the man no longer feeling so one-sided. Your mind was so loud, in fact, that you barely heard him mumble something against your skin. You realized that he was thanking you, and you responded with a confused noise.

“You saved my life today. Twice. I haven’t thanked you yet.”

“I wouldn’t’ve just left you, Charles. I couldn’t. I…” you trailed off, a confession ready to leave your lips. The bottle had cracked, its contents spilling out as you tried to damndest to keep it all contained. “If I remember correctly, you also saved me today. Nothin’ good would’ve happened if you weren’t there today.”

You felt him tense, an almost pained sound leaving him. “When I saw you like that… I don’t ever want to see that again.”

You moved back so that you could see him again, and you cupped the side of his face with your hand, relieved to find the skin significantly warmer than it was moments ago. “I’m alright. Thanks to you, I’m safe.” 

He relaxed slightly, but his eyes were filled with so much sadness that it had you frowning. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared before,” he whispered, resting his own hand atop yours. “The best thing in my life, and I almost lost it today.” Both of you seemed surprised by his words, but you didn’t let him backtrack.

“But you didn’t. You are the one who got that man off me, and showed him the error of his ways.”

He chuckled at that, but then another frown adorned his lips. “I didn’t… unsettle you, right? I… I saw your eyes widen after you called me off him. You’re not-”

“Never. I know you’d never hurt me.”

Relieved, you felt him go fully lax under your touch. His whole body had returned to a normal temperature, you noted, the heat under the blanket beginning to become sweltering. With your thumb, you stroked his cheek, feeling the raised skin of the scar across his cheek. He let go of your hand, moving it back to the ground to keep the two of you propped up as you leaned forward. The duvet fell slightly, exposing his shoulder to the air, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Keeping your hand on his cheek, your lips brushed the shell of his ear. “Although, I do think you looked rather beautiful.”

He practically shuddered, a pleased smile on your mouth as you leaned back again. Keeping only a few inches between your faces, you watched as his eyes flicked down to your lips before returning up. “Yeah?” You don’t think you’ve ever heard his voice so low.

You nodded, the fingers on his cheek moving to brush a few strands away from his face. His eyes were dark, pupils blown out but not because of the low light. “I always think you look beautiful,” you murmured. 

He hummed in response, and you felt the hand on your back creek up, resting at the nape of your neck. He didn’t pull you forward, he just held you. “Next to you, however, I imagine I look quite plain.”

“Oh, hush,” you chided while smiling. 

“I’m serious.” You felt him play with the hair at your neck, fingers running lightly through the strands. “It’s distracting, how beautiful you are. Whenever I walk into a room and you’re in there, you’re the first thing I look at, and I can never bring myself to look away. At night at camp, you look so at ease, the fire illuminates your face in a way that makes you look ethereal. I can do nothing but watch you, too stunned to speak. You plague every waking thought, and you haunt my dreams. You’ve unknowingly burrowed yourself into my heart, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You were at a loss for words, your mouth moving but no words actually came out. Choosing to ignore the way your heart celebrated, you let out an airy chuckle. “I think that’s the longest I’ve ever heard you talk.” 

He laughed. “I can keep it short, if you’d like?”

“I didn’t mean that,” you scoffed. “What could possibly condense all that?”

Charles gave you a look, like he couldn’t believe you hadn’t caught on by now. A part of you knew what he was going to say, but you wouldn't believe it. You needed to hear it from his lips. The hand playing with your hair stilled, the only sound being the crackling fire behind you. 

“I’m in love with you.” 

He said it like it was the simplest thing ever, like it hadn’t just completely flipped your world upside down. He had taken your bottled up feelings and opened it himself. Taking your responding silence as a negative thing, you felt his hand fall slightly, a worried look crossing his face. You didn’t give him much time to worry, pulling him closer with the hand still cupping his face. Your foreheads connected, and your lips were almost brushing. “You mean it?” 

“Of course.”

“Well… for how long?”

“How long have I been with the gang?”

Surprised, you laughed lightly, and he visibly looked confused. “So this entire time, you felt the same way?”

It took a second for him to process your words, a wide grin appearing when he did. “I guess so.” He paused for a moment, and you felt him take a deep breath. “You love me?” He asked, his voice small and uncertain. 

You moved your face back an inch, giving you room to nod. “I do. For the same amount of time, too. I was too scared to say anythin’, I didn’t wanna ruin what we had. And I kinda thought I annoyed you to death,” you chuckled. “But if today reminded me of anythin’, it’s that this life is too unpredictable to have regrets.”

“Arthur gave you that lecture too?”

You rolled your eyes. Of course he didn't heed your warning about not playing matchmaker with you and Charles. But still, you might have to thank him later. “Despite what he claims, he’s a nosy bastard.”

He hummed in agreement, and a silence hung over the room, anticipation heavy in the air. With the lightest touch, you felt him bring you forward with the hand on the back of your head. “I wanna hear you say it,” you heard him ask. 

“I love you, darlin’.” Both hands now cupped his cheeks, and you hovered your lips above his. “Kiss me?”

“Gladly.” You felt his hand move to cradle your head, pulling you in the final distance until your lips were colliding. There was only a hint of chill left on his skin, easily melting away against your warm mouth.  His lips were soft, softer than you imagined, and you let out a pleased sigh. It was a surprisingly quick kiss, and you sucked in a breath when you felt him pull away, his eyes blown out. 

He was also panting, and his fingers wove into your hair, like he was grounding himself. Moving forward, you tried to reconnect your lips, but he moved his head so that your lips collided with his cheek instead. A jolt of panic shot through your body, thinking you horribly misread the situation. “I want… I want this,” he reassured. “But I want to make sure you want this. That you want… me.”

You’d never met a man like Charles Smith, and you’re sure you’d never meet another like him. Never, ever had you heard of or met a man explicitly asking for consent like this, and it got you more excited than you thought it would. “I’ve wanted this for a while now,” you admitted, resting your touch on the junction where his shoulders and neck met. “I’ve dreamed of a moment like this more times than I can count. I want you, Charles. I need-”

In a complete switch up, he crashed his lips against yours, muffling your words. If the first kiss had been gentle and hesitant, this one was hungry and confident, lips eagerly moving against yours. He was practically devouring you, like he couldn’t get enough of you. With every small noise that left you, he seemed to grow more bold, and you felt the fingers in your hair tug slightly. It didn’t hurt, but it caused your lips to part. Within seconds his tongue swept into your mouth, eager to explore you. 

The blanket had long since fallen off, bunched up on the ground surrounding the two of you. Pushing him lightly on his shoulders, you eased him on his back. Your hands planted on his chest when he made contact with the furs, your lips not separating for a moment. He was a pleasant temperature under your fingers, his skin surprisingly soft, just like his lips. You were straddling his waist now, your hands barely keeping you from laying your entire weight on the man. 

He had let go of your head, his hands moving to your waist to keep you secure. His grip was strong, but not enough to leave a mark. A part of you wanted him to, but you didn’t say anything. If he wanted you like you wanted him, then there would be a next time.

Rocking your hips, you felt a growing hardness barely separated by your thin undergarments. You felt him groan when you did so, and he tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth. When he moved his head away to suck in some air, your hands snaked back up his neck, nearly covering his ears. You’d thought your attempts at warming him up were fruitful, but when you felt how cold his ears were, you made a concerned noise, your lust temporarily forgotten. “Your ears are freezing…”

He looked like he couldn’t care less, but then a mischievous smile crossed his face. “You gonna warm them up, then?”

“What do you think I’m tryin’ to do?” You giggled, and you made sure that your hands fully covered them. You had easy access to his lips, and you gave him a quick kiss. 

“Not with your hands, my love.”

You smiled at the endearment, but his statement confused you. Cocking your head to the side, you moved your hands off his face, settling them back on his chest. “What-?”

You didn’t get to finish your question, the hands on your hips effortlessly pulling your up toward his face. Your knees now straddled the sides of his head, your thighs practically where your hands were, covering his ears. You looked down at him with wide eyes, a flush creeping up your neck at the implications. Surely he doesn't want that, right?

Charles let out a satisfied noise, and with his hands now on your thighs he eased you on to him. You let him, but you kept a few inches between his mouth and your body. He genuinely seemed upset by that, and you felt him press a quick kiss to the inside of your thigh, causing a shiver to run through your body.

“Please, let me taste you,” he pressed another kiss to the inside of your legs, this one closer to your aching center. If he moved any closer, he was bound to feel your wetness through the fabric. “I want you to fall apart on my face.”

You exhaled shakily. “You want to?” You asked, almost in disbelief. This man was unreal.

He nodded, the action causing his chin to brush against your center. “Let me make you feel good, my love.” When he pulled you down again, you didn’t keep any distance between the two of you. You felt him press a kiss to your clothed center, a smug grin on his face when he felt your arousal. He didn’t say anything, just pulling you down closer to his face until your legs were fully wrapped around his head, no space between the two of you. 

You felt his tongue flick out, simply tasting you through the damp fabric. He did it again, and again, and his hands tightened on your thighs. He was indirect with his tongue, but each swipe had you letting out small moans. A mix of his saliva and your arousal was causing the fabric to become even more wet; they were most certainly going to be wrecked. 

The small kitten-licks were nice, but you needed more. Charles knew this too, and you felt him work his fingers under the material of your undergarments, pulling them down your ass and thighs. It took some awkward maneuvering, but eventually the garment was off, being tossed somewhere to the side by you, leaving you in only your undershirt.

He wasted no time, pulling you back down onto his face with a growl. Parting you with a pass of his tongue, he let out a pleased noise, the vibrations shooting straight to your core. Charles was insatiable now, lapping and drinking you like you were the best goddamn meal he’s ever had. His eyes were hooded, drunk on you. When his broad strokes turned into concentrated flicks on your clit, you moaned loudly, your thighs turning vice-like around his head. 

It spurred him on, working your clit with markman’s accuracy, bringing you closer and closer to your climax in record time. You heard him groan something under you, and you let out a breathy sigh when you realized he was groaning your name over and over again.  

This entire time, you had kept your hands to yourself, but you were growing more and more desperate to touch him. Reaching down, your hands tangled in his hair, and then almost immediately releasing it like it burned you. For a second, you panicked, thinking yet again you crossed a line, which seemed to be a repeating event this evening. You knew his hair was an important part of his culture, and you would never forgive yourself if you did something to upset him.

Without even slowing down a beat, you felt him grab your hand, leading your back towards his head. He closed his eyes when he felt you weave your fingers through the locks, his hips bucking when you tugged slightly. 

You were getting close now, and you felt yourself moving against his face in time with his tongue. “Charles,” you whined, and he hummed in response. “I’m- I’m gettin’ close, darlin’,”

As you neared your release, you heard the sound of skin-on-skin from behind you. Turning around, you saw Charles stroking himself, getting off to eating you out. “Oh my God… Charles…” you breathed out, barely able to tear your eyes away from the beautiful sight behind you.

His eyes were hazy with lust as he peered up at you from between your legs, and you could feel yourself begin to tip over the edge. Sighing out his name, you felt him grin. Before you could even process it, he sucked on your clit, pushing you over that edge as you came hard on his face. You were crying out his name, but your voice sounded distant to your ears, temporarily out of your body as you orgasmed. Charles kept his tongue moving as you came, drawing out every bit of pleasure from your body.

It took you a few moments to recover, and the first thing you were able to hear was the obscene noise leaving Charles’ mouth as he drank in your release. Secondly, you realized you had a death-grip on Charles’ hair, and you quickly let go, and you tried to apologize, but your words were jumbled. He continued to lap at you, but it quickly became too much, your body beginning to feel overstimulated. You rolled off of him, being mindful of the fireplace even in your post-orgasmic haze.

Glancing over at Charles, you found him already watching you, just like he would do in camp. With a soft smile, you scooted closer until you were pressed into his side. He gave you his arm to la on, and you felt him kiss the top of your head. It was silent between the two of you, simply taking the moment to catch your breaths and recover. 

You couldn’t help looking down, though, having to stifle a gasp when you saw how big he actually was, having only gotten a glimpse of him early. He was going to feel good, but you knew you would be sore for a few days after. Not that you cared. 

Looking back up at him, you let your fingers trail up his chest, resting right above his heart. It was beating erratically, just like yours, and you heard him let out a noise when your fingers “accidently” brushed over his nipple. You heard him whine out your name, and you slowly sat up. You were able to see him clearer now, and he looked like a mess. His face was covered in your slick, glistening in the firelight, and his hair was all tousled from your fingers. But the best part was the pure bliss on his features.

It was almost comical, the way his eyes snapped open when you pulled off your shirt, exposing your chest to him. “You’ve got somethin’ on your face,” you tried to joke, but your voice was quite hoarse. You tossed your shirt at him, giving him something to wipe his mouth with. He merely set it to the side, unbothered with the mess. Propping himself up with an arm, he offered you his free hand, pulling you forward when you took it in yours.

You nearly fell right on top of him, your muscles pure jelly. Laughing, you were just able to get upright before he was kissing you. It was weird, tasting yourself on him, but you found you didn’t mind. You didn’t keep your lips on his for too long, moving down his jaw, then down his neck. You weren’t straddling his hips, so the positioning was a tad bit uncomfortable, but you didn’t care. 

Moving down further, you trailed kissed across his collarbones, then down his sternum, his breathing growing uneven as you went lower and lower. A hand now rested on the back of your head as you continued downward, reaching a patch of hair that started at his belly button. It surprised you, the rest of his body being relatively hairless, but you weren't complaining. In fact, you were imagining seeing it peek out from under his shirt as he stretched, his clothing riding up with his arms. Even though it was relatively innocent in the light of everything else the two of you were doing, it had you pressing your thighs together, trying to relieve the returning ache between them.

Following the happy trail, you ran your fingers through the hair as you adjusted closer to his member. His was achingly hard at this point, and his breathing stilled when you ghost your lips over the tip. Leaning over him, you flicked your tongue out, licking up the bead of precum. The hand and your head tightened into a ball, and you could tell he was fighting every urge to buck himself down your throat. Next time, you thought. 

Moving down further so that you sat between his legs, you spit into your hand before you grasped him. He was velvety soft as you slowly began to stroke him, a mix of your name and a moan leaving his lips as you did so. With heavy eyes and part lips, he watched you pleasure him. “You feel so good in my hand,” you murmured, “butI think you’ll feel even better in me, no?”

His response was slightly incoherent, but you could tell he was agreeing with you. “In a second, darlin’. I wanna taste you, too.”

“You don’t need to do that.” Charles found his voice again, although it sounded very strained.

“But I want to. Don’t make me beg for it.” You weren’t really intended to suggest anything, but the look on Charles’ face at your comment had you grinning. “Unless you want me to?”

“I-” he was stunned, but you could tell he was imagining it, and liking it. 

“Please, darlin’, let me suck your cock,” you fluttered your lashes at him. “I bet you taste so good… just let me taste you, please. I need it so bad, darlin’. I need your cock-”

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.” Charles cursed, which was more arousing than you thought it would be. “Yeah, go ahead, my love.”

Pressing one last kiss to the tip, you flattened your tongue and ran it up his length, and you heard him moan. You did it a few times, receiving a similar reaction each time. Eventually, you slowly took the tip of him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around while doing so. Taking more and more of him into your mouth, you were only able to take him halfway before he was pressing against the back of your throat, and you relaxed as best you could, not wanting to trigger your gag reflex.

Taking the rest of him in your hand, you began to bob your head up and down. Hollowing your cheeks until you reached the tip of him, you then ran your tongue across the slit, before moving back down his length, keeping your tongue flat. You repeated this action for a while, falling into an easy rhythm. You felt him buck up a few times, but other than that he kept his hips relatively still, letting you have your way with him. His hand didn’t push you further down him, he just simply held you, moving back the hairs that tried to fall in your face. 

You heard him moan out your name, and you groaned. “You feel so good, my love,” he praised. His words turned into a surprised moan, whe, with your free hand, started moving slowly up his thigh, moving inward until you brushed against his balls. He nearly jumped with the contact, causing his cock to go further down your throat than you'd like, causing you to rear back coughing. 

Immediately, he was apologizing. His hand was now on your cheek, wiping away the spit around your mouth as you recovered. “Are you alright?” He asked, and you nodded, not trusting your voice at that second. You could tell that he still felt bad, and you pressed a kiss to the inside of his wrist. 

“I’m alright,” you managed to get out, and you cleared your throat some more. “Just caught me off guard, that’s all.”

“So did you, touching me like that” he teased, his earlier concerns dissipating when he saw that you truly were okay. “I wasn’t gonna last long even before you did that.” Pulling you up to him, he kissed you, and you finally straddled his waist, his cock resting between your bodies. 

You weren’t given much time to savor his lips before your world was quite literally turning as he flipped you on to your back. The furs nestled nicely against your skin, and you locked your legs around Charles’ waist, grinding yourself against his member. His head fell against your chest, and you felt him brush feather-light kisses across your skin, much like you did. But a new eagerness had overtaken you, and you grinded again against him, and you felt him chuckle. “Patience, my love.”

“I’ve waited long enough, Charles. I need you in me.”

“You think you’re ready for me?” If those words came out of any other man, you would’ve laughed at the arrogance those words held. But you knew it came out of a place of genuine concern for your wellbeing, scared of hurting you. He was large, and you knew that it was probably going to hurt when he entered you, but your lust fueled brain did not care. You need him in you now, consequences be damned.

“Please,” you whispered, and he adjusted so that his face was level with yours. 

“Alright, but if at any point-”

Kissing him quickly, you smiled at him, brushing back a long strand of hair that fell in his face. “I will. I trust you. Now,” you kissed him again, “fuck me.”

He didn’t respond, pressing a kiss against the tip of your nose before you felt him press into you. He kept his eyes on your face, gauging your reaction as he slowly entered you. The initial breach was always the worst part, and you couldn’t help the slight grimace that crossed your features as he breached your entrance. He halted, but you urged him further by pressing your heels into his back. 

The stretch was unlike anything else you’d ever felt, satiating a need you didn’t know you had. Tangling your hands in his hair, you pulled your face against yours, resting your foreheads together. “God, you feel so good,” you panted as he pressed himself deeper into you. You were certain that he was going to ruin you for any other man. 

Hearing him chuckle made you realize you said that last part aloud. “After this, you’re stuck with me, my love.”

Because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut, and you were curious to see how deep his possessive side went, you pushed further. “Am I now?” Yes. 

For a second, it seemed like Charles couldn’t tell that you were teasing, but when he saw the playful glint in your eye he played along. “Do you think anyone else could make you feel like this?”

He was nearly fully sheathed in you, and you fought the urge to just pull him the rest of the way into you “I dunno. If I remember right, I asked you to fuck me. It sure don’t feel like you’re doin’ that.”

Finally, he was fully in you, your hips flushed together. You both let out content moans, and Charles gave you a moment to adjust. “You want me to fuck you?” He confirmed, and the words sounded even filthier coming from his mouth. 

“If you don’t, I’ll find someone who will.” 

Letting out something akin to a growl, he pulled out of you quickly, leaving only the tip in before he was slamming back into you, hands gripping your hips tightly. He set a brutal pace, and your head rolled back, your moans and cries filling the air. With the way your head was, it caused your back to arch, meaning your breasts were right in his face. With zero hesitation, he took one into his mouth, sucking and toying with the nipple in his mouth. Releasing it, he switched to the other one, making sure to give both apt attention. 

Tugging at his hair, you brought his attention upwards. Smashing your lips against his, your kiss was open-mouth and messy, more tongue and teeth than anything. His hips were snapping against yours, incessant as he pounded into you. 

“Yes! Charles,” you wailed, tearing your lips away from his to do so. He kept his lips busy, nipping and kissing the skin at your jaw and neck. A particularly hard bite had you gasping, and you felt him smirk against your skin. Your senses were completely overwhelmed in the best way; all that you could register was him, the way he felt, the way he tasted, the way he looked. 

He leaned over you now, broad arms caging your head in. His dark hair fell in waves around him, blocking out any other visual in the room. All you could do was look at him, and he was a sight for sore eyes. Color had long since returned to his cheeks, the skin there darkening with exertion. His eyes were locked on to you, dancing around your face and chest like he couldn’t quite figure out what he wanted to look at. His plush lips were parted, soft gasps of air leaving him with each thrust.

Another snap of his hips had you grasping at his back and shoulders, pleasuring washing over you as another orgasm began to build up. Your nails dug into his skin, no doubt leaving marks, but it didn’t seem to deter him. In fact, he let out a low moan, and it had your cunt clenching around his cock. 

Babbling his name, your nails ran down his back, leaving in its wake angry red lines. “You feel so good… like you were made for me.”

“My love…” he sighed, and one of the hands at the side of your head cupped your face,  bringing you right to his lips. His length was reaching places in you that you didn’t know existed, filling you deep and hard, just like you wanted. You were going to become addicted to him. 

“I’m so close, Charles…” Releasing one of his shoulders, you snaked your hand between your bodies, moving to start touching yourself. You weren’t expecting him to quickly grasp your wrist, bringing it out of the way and replacing your hand with his much larger one. He began to rub at your clit, slow circular movements that juxtaposed the fast in-and-out of his cock. His ministrations had you seeing stars, and you felt yourself reaching completion again that night. 

“Charles, I-”

“I know. Let me feel you fall apart.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

His slow movements turned rapid, groaning when he felt you clench around him. With a cry of his name, you came, pleasure rolling over you in waves. This one was stronger than the first, feeling like every nerve in your body had been set aflame. Your eyes rolled back, the world temporarily turning dark as your eyelids shut. He kept his eyes on you the entire time, a reverent look in his gaze. With the way your walls were fluttering around him, and the quickened pace of his hips, you knew that he wasn’t going to last much longer either.

His arms went back around your head, continuing to move as he chased his own release. You heard him gasp out, quickly pulling out of you, and you let out a discontent noise as he no longer filled you. He stroked himself a few times, hand moving fervently up and down his length. If you weren’t so fucked out of your mind, you would’ve had taken him in your hand yourself, wanting to feel him as well. Moaning your name, you watched as he came, his release spilling over your stomach. His hips canted forward a few times as he worked through the aftershocks of his orgasm.

You loosened your legs that were wrapped around his waist, and silence hung over the two of you as you both processed what just happened. A small laugh left you, breaking the trance, and you saw him smile back at you, mirroring his laughter with his own. You watched him grab the blanket that was still bundled up on the floor, and he tore off a section of it, the sound of fabric ripping startling you slightly. 

Wiping his release from your skin, he tossed the soiled cloth to some corner of the room. It’s not like this was your place, anyways. Opening your arms, you invited him to lay with you, and he gladly accepted. He was careful to keep his full weight off of you, but he still lay partially on top of you, his head resting on your chest. It was comforting, and you felt yourself begin to grow a bit sleepy. “Are you warm yet?” You teased, running your fingers soothingly through his hair, and you felt his chest rumble with laughter.

“I think so,” he responded, bringing the blanket around your bodies. The fire was starting to die down, but neither of you moved to add fuel to it. He murmured something, and you gave an inquisitive sound. “I love you,” he repeated, his brown eyes filled with emotion as he stared up at you.

“I love you, too.”

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but he quickly shut it. “What is it?” You asked, and he sighed, his warm breath tickling you.

“Does that mean you’ll stay?”

In all honesty, you had completely forgotten about your earlier conversation. The vulnerability in his voice had your eyes watering, and it didn’t take much thinking to reach your answer. Sure, you were scared for the future of the gang, and you were scared that with each passing day you’d find yourself closer and closer to finding your end at a rope or a barrel, but none of those fears mattered, not anymore. Not when you finally had all that you wanted in your arms. And who knows, maybe you’d end up leaving in time, but you knew you wouldn’t be leaving alone.

“Yeah, I’ll stay. Besides, you still owe me a date.”

His responding smile solidified that you had made the right decision. Whatever the future held, you knew it would be easier with Charles by your side.

#charles smith #charles smith rdr2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #charles smith x reader

[brighttears]

Finally

Joel Miller x f!reader

No physical description except female sex organs and having hair, no use of y/n

Summary: After losing contact with your lover Joel and his brother for five years, Tommy finds you and brings you into Jackson. You reunite with Joel but it doesn't take long for him to project his insecurity onto you. You talk to Tommy about it until Joel comes and finds you. You have make up sex/five years overdue sex, and end with a shower that eases some feelings out of you as you relax in your new home with Joel

Word count: 7.7k

Warnings: (18+, MINORS DNI) PIV unprotected sex, creampie, mating press, slight hair pulling, slight edging, dirty talk, Joel has a big ol weiner, pet names (baby, babygirl, good girl, sweet girl, darling, my love), you and Joel have an argument, ‘slut’ used derogatorily, accused cheating, brief drinking, kind of insecure!Joel, Tess doesn’t exist

A/n: this is the longest it’s ever taken me to post anything lol (and also the longest thing i’ve written i think?). the quality will not correlate I was messing around with like four other ideas this is the just the only one that got somewhere, also been having way less time to write and that will probably continue 3: also finally did smut (for the one person who has said they want me to lol love u)

—

Riding up to the gates of Jackson, you feel like a teenager on their first day of high school, distractingly nervous but drifted forward by hopeful butterflies. You grip the leather reins and look to Tommy riding beside you, he grants you a reassuring grin. In front of you, the gates, made of lines of thick logs with a large rusty lock, start to groan open. Tommy slips through before you and you follow him into a different world—a ghost and dream, lit up by string lights, appearing warm despite the winter, healthy and alive. Your focus, however, concentrates on the faces, many of which are looking back at your new one. Flicking from one to the next, your heart rises and falls with every one that isn’t Joel’s. Tommy’s promise has your senses perked up like an animal. 

Ahead of you on the road, you double take a man with his back to you. Despite this and his hair being too gray, his posture and step are unmistakable. 

“Joel,” you utter, soft, a reaction rather than a call out; it croaks out of your throat, dusty from all its time stuck there. Awakened, his name erupts from you then, “Joel,” 

The man stops dead, then whirls around, and you stop breathing because it is him. Unable to look away, you stumble off of your horse and begin to walk towards him. It’s silent, almost frighteningly so, even if it’s just in your head, because it makes it feel like a dream, like if you so much as blink he’ll be gone or you’ll be awake. 

Joel mirrors you, then jogs, you feel hot tears behind your eyes, and then you collide, grabbing at each other like you’re making up for every lost embrace from the past five years apart. He makes a sound, holding you with his cheek on the side of your head. You shake once with a cry, a mixture of shock that keeps your eyes wide open, though blind, actualization flowing through you and into your fingers digging into his thick coat and tangling in his hair, dregs of sorrow and resentment against time finally detaching like leeches, and love, powerfully swirling around everything inside of you. 

Then you hear his voice for the first time, “Oh, baby,” and your eyes squeeze shut and you start to cry, and he holds you tighter. You can’t stop it, fueled by relief in the intense familiarity of the pressure of his arms, his scent, his voice, the way he breathes. 

Once you’re breathing properly, Joel pulls away, holding your waist. He looks you over, making sure you’re real and here, and when you are, he slips a hand under your jaw and pulls your wet face into a kiss. For a moment your lips are simply pressed, frozen, overwhelmed, and then they move, and you kiss starved, revived. The feeling of sanctuary rekindling floods you, your face quivering with tears, and you have to pull apart for a breath. 

And Joel is still here, and you hold his face in your hands because he’s so beautiful and he’s finally here. You take in each other’s new features—wrinkles, grays, scars. You slide your thumb over his cheek, feeling his rough skin, and then you meet in the stars in each other’s blown out pupils. 

Simultaneously, you start to giggle, giddy, and then you guffaw, holding each other, and Joel pulls you back in. Tightly, he sways you like a doll, and you feel his laughter through his body like against a speaker playing heavy base. Being in his arms feels like life being unpaused. 

“Tommy!” He cries over your shoulder, still laughing, “Where the fuck did’you find ‘er?” Still held tightly against him, you can’t hear Tommy’s response, but then Joel repeats “Oh, baby.” and leans his head down to loudly kiss the side of your face.

You pull away and admire him. No image that you’d drawn up in your imagination compares to Joel in the flesh. Running your hand through his longer, silvered hair, you realize just how much you were missing out on. 

“I found you.” You whisper. 

He chuckles with a wide smile, “You found me.” And then takes you back to him, “I missed you so much, baby.” 

“I missed you to death.” You mumble into him. 

Tommy’s voice sounds nearby, chuckling “Don’t smother ‘er to death, we just got ‘er back!” You part and turn to look at him with a rawly genuine grin. A sincere smile curves back. You thank him through your eyes and he nods. Joel strides past you to hug his brother, long and meaningful. 

Then he turns to you, hand still on Tommy’s shoulder, and looks you up and down. “Come on, you must be freezin’, I’ll take you up to the house.”

“The house?” You question as he guides you back up the road.

“The house.” He confirms with an amiable smirk, hugging you to his side by an arm wrapped around you. 

—

“I know, I know!” Joel enthuses as he closes the door behind you, watching you turn in a circle, mouth agape, taking in the house, which is actually fully intact, walls and furniture alike, basically clean. It smells like Joel and his jacket hangs on the pegboard on the wall next to the door. An acoustic guitar leans against the couch, which has a blanket hung over the back, there’s a mug out on the table, probably still half full and cold—this is Joel’s house. 

“Look, look,” he calls and rushes to the kitchen sink. He turns the handle and water flows out in a powerful stream, and you stride over, mouth still open in astonishment. You put your hand under the faucet and feel the water heating up. 

“Hot water!?” You cry, and you both burst out laughing again in joyful gratitude. You stop suddenly and Joel turns off the faucet. “Does this mean… shower?” Joel gives you a dramatic frown, raising his brows and shrugging, then nods his head to the stairs. Tugging at his arm, you cry out his name, thrilled. He takes off and you race him up the steps. 

“I can get’chou some clean clothes easy—how long you been wearing those?” 

“Disturbingly long.” 

Joel laughs. “You meet Tommy’s wife yet?” He looks back at you shaking your head as he opens his bedroom door, “Well, she’ll take care a ya’.” He steps into the middle of the room and turns back to you and you magnetize, holding each other by your arms. “Man, when I first got here I just kept thinkin’ how much you’d love this place.” 

The image of that almost makes you blush and your heart swells, knowing that he was still yours while you were gone, playing house with an imaginary you. “Damn straight I do. Fuck, you’ve just been livin’ it up.” Looking over his face, you’re beginning to relearn it. 

“Well, I am now.” His expression shifts from excitement into contentment and he murmurs, “I missed you so much, baby,” 

Fitting together comfortably, you join for a kiss. 

The calm of the room allows you to experience your feelings wholly, inside and out; thus, a shared heat is overt and you strip your jackets, not parting lips and hurriedly reattaching your bodies. 

“Shit,” you breathe out, craving him and finally being satisfied at the same time as his warm, powerful hands move over you, sliding up and down your sides, your back, up your forearm as your hand brushes over his face and into his hair and with your other you squeeze his thick bicep. He walks you into the wall, clutching your middle to him with an arm wrapped around you. His other hand drags from your face down your neck, flush against your skin as he continues slowly lowering it further, past your collarbone. Your chest expanding in a deep breath lifts it into his hand and Joel swears, then repeats in a murmur, “I missed you so much baby.” You respond with a whimper and wetter kiss, pulling him ever closer, and he swears again, the hand on your back clenching the fabric of your shirt. Then he moves it to the underside of your leg, between your thigh and your ass, and lifts, holding your thigh next to his leg with your foot dangling, toes curling in your boot. Truth is, no one has touched you since Joel, save for yourself, so he’s driving you crazy right now.

Your mouths together compose a natural melody, one motion rolling into the next, constantly finding and looking for more and you’re obsessed again with his flavor. If this lasted forever you wouldn’t even notice. But, just as he moans into your lips, Joel suddenly pulls back and holds you away by your waist.

You rest your hands on his forearms. “Joel?” You inquire, catching your breath, and then slide a hand over his cheek and under his chin to lift his head, looking for some kind of communication from his expression. He meets your eyes for only a second before he lets go of you completely, turning away and walking to the other side of the room. 

You stay where you are, granting him space. “Joel? What’s wrong?” He turns to you but his head is bowed. “…Joel?” Anxiety scratches at your heart and you wipe your mouth. 

Sighing heavily, he slowly rubs his hand over his face before finally speaking up, “Look… before we… go any further, I gotta ask…” he leans his hand on the short dresser and when he looks up his expression is unexpectedly serious. “Is there someone else?”

It takes you a couple seconds to put it together, but you ask anyway, just to make sure, “…What do you mean?”

Instantly, he replies, “You know what I mean.” Firmer this time, he repeats, “Is there someone else?” Confounded, you’re tongue tied, and he takes it as confirmation of his suspicions. “There is, isn’t there?” He almost sneers.

The atmosphere has shifted dramatically; just a few minutes ago he was laughing brightly with you, and about thirty seconds ago he was caressing you, amorous and loving.

“Are you joking?” Joel’s face says ‘what do you think?’ and you screw your own face up. “Are you asking me if I have some secret partner?” You ask once again just to be sure. He says nothing, only looks on unrelentingly and puts his hands on his hips, bent knee sticking out. You laugh coldly. “Holy shit.”

Near monotone, he asks, “Why’s that funny?”

“I just—wasn’t expecting this, at all, I mean this is just… do you realize how much of a jackass you’re being right now?” You pause, he says nothing. “Well, I’m not having a fucking affair. Okay? Jesus.” 

Joel huffs, keeping stoney eye contact, and grinds his teeth. You let him brew in the silence. Still, after all this time, you can read him like a book—he has convinced himself that you found someone better while he was gone and have come back only to blow sand in his eyes, and then you’re going to run off to your new, superior lover, leaving him on his ass in the mud. And although he doesn’t want it to be true, he always puts so much faith into awful assumptions, and he hates being wrong. 

You sigh in understanding but speak to him sternly, “Joel, you are making this shit up in your head and just putting it on me. That’s not fair. Don’t do this. There’s no reason to do this.”

Defensively, he suddenly raises his voice, “I jus’ wanna make sure I’m not steppin’ on any toes.” With a bite, he finishes, “I’m jus’ sayin’, if there is someone else, now’s the time to leave.” 

Your expression turns unsympathetic, brow pinched and mouth parted in amazement, and then you counter venomously, “I don’t know who you think I am. I don’t know what kind of twisted version of me you’ve created in your head. Are you trying to call me a fucking slut? That’s the kind of narrative you've thought up? That’s what you’ve been thinking about while I’ve been gone—me betraying you?”

Joel’s eyes are closed and his head is shaking before you even finish, pinching his brow with two fingers, “No, no,”

You cut right back in, “Alright, well that’s what it fucking sounds like to me so I am going to leave now—not to run off to some paramour,” you spit, “but because you’re being a fucking asshole and need to run this one back through before you talk to me again.” 

“W–wait,” He tries, but you’ve already spun on your heel, snatching up your jacket, and rush out with heavy footsteps. You don’t bother closing his front door behind you and don’t look back, not hearing anything either. 

You don’t know this town yet, but you keep the same pace you left Joel’s with and just follow the road, packed white with hard snow. The sharp air makes your eyes water and you swipe your hands at them blurring your vision. Your breaths, fast with your fiery heartbeat, blow steamy clouds like puffs of white smoke. 

You stop the first passerby you see, “There’s a bar here, right?” Your tongue hasn’t fully cooled yet and you try not to sound harsh. You’re almost out of breath. 

“Yeah,” the tall woman’s voice is mousy and she tucks stray black hair into her hat, then turns and points, “just follow this road, you’ll come to Main Street, it’ll be on your right.” As she turns her head back to you she adds, “It’s called the Tispy Bison.”

“Thank you.” you nod, do your best to smile, and continue on.

—

A rush of warm air blows out through the door swinging open and your nose starts to run as you step into the Tipsy Bison. It appears very ‘American’ themed, with its warm, inoffensively red walls, everything country–style wood, and taxidermy wall mounts. Crowning bright soda fridges are neon red Coca–Cola logos. A few lively groups are scattered about, talking and laughing. Blinking into the reality of the massive dining hall, you wipe your nose with your sleeve; it’s so much like the world before and for some reason it intimidates you. As you scan the room, you spot Tommy at the bar and remember you’re thirsty.

He smiles when he notices you approaching but it fades and he furrows his brow as he regards your expression. You slip into the chair next to him and he turns his torso to face you, one arm resting over the back of his seat, the other on the bar with a beer in his hand.

A gravelly voice from behind the bar asks, “What can I get ya?” and you turn to a friendly looking woman with thick, coily hair and dark teeth.

“Surprise me.”

“Gotcha. Comin’ right up.” She smiles and moves away. 

Turning your attention back to Tommy, his brow is still furrowed, as it is most of the time, really, and he bites his lip. “Trouble in paradise?”

You turn forward to rest your elbows on the bar and slide your head through your hands, pulling your cheeks, then resting them on the sides of your head. “Your brother’s being a little shit.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, he’s pretty good at that. What’e’do?”

During the time you’d been with Joel, you became close with his brother, too. Tommy has always been easy to talk to and you pick right up where you left off. It’s nice to have someone to talk candidly to about Joel, and you’re sure he feels the same. 

“Same kind of shit he always does—assume the worst in everyone and stick them with it for no fucking reason.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty classic Joel.” He sips his beer and smacks his lips. “You know he does really love you, though.”

“No, I know, I mean, I can tell even with this,” you remove your hands from your head and turn to him, “he’s accusing me of having ‘someone else’,” you air quote as you confide, “like I’m having a fucking affair. Came outta nowhere.” Looking to the side to blow out a breath, your eyes automatically flick around your surroundings.

“He’s just insecure.”

“I know. It’s not like I’m cutting him off or anything, and I want to stay in Jackson, I just told him to… cool off, in so many words. You know I love him too, I just had to fucking leave.” 

Just then, the voice sounds again beside you, “Here’s that surprise for ya.” She places a short, ribbed glass in front of you, a blood orange drink on the rocks. 

“Thank you.” You immediately take a swig and it’s bittersweet and smooth. 

As you do, Tommy says, “Yeah, good call. He just needs to get checked sometimes, y’know? He’ll figure it out. He’s just… yeah, he’s insecure.”

Looking down into your drink, you add, “He hates himself.” and spin the glass over the smooth bar. “That’s his worst quality. That’s the only thing I would change about him.”

Tommy sighs. “I think what makes it worse for him is how much he loves you.” He shakes his head, “He just gets so damn scared. He has no idea how strong he is, how good he is… I think we see a real different version of him than he does.” You nod. There’s a beat of silence before he continues, “It’s just… loss, y’know? It’s like he just wants’t’ beat it to the punch. He always feels like he’s doin’ sum’n wrong. Always thinkin’ it’s his fault.” 

You nod again. “You said it: he sees a real different version of himself than we do. I just wish I could…” you suck your teeth and turn to him, “I keep trying to talk him out of it, you know? Do you think that works?”

He looks down to think for a while, then looks back at you and concludes, “I think… it’s gotta be him.” 

You nod, “Yeah, I know what you mean.” 

To lighten the mood, Tommy smiles, “Well, don’tchou worry, he’ll be crawlin’ back t’you with his tail between his legs any second now.” You ‘psh’, looking ahead and admiring the warm-toned colored bottles shelved on the wall. Then he adds, “You’ll never lose ‘im, you know.”

You sip your drink and roll his words around with it, full, mellow, but strongly bittersweet. You and Joel had been separated for a long time, wherein all you had was faith, and you gripped that rope tight and never let go, just like he would for you, just like he did for Tommy. Joel has yet to let you down—he’s fucked up many times, but he’s never let you down, because he puts his heart into everything he does; it’s maybe his most admirable and most troubling trait. He loves so hard it hurts, sometimes not just him. You’ll never run out of patience though, because he’s your Joel, and you love him to death. He hit you like a bullet, quick and good, and he’s lodged somewhere inside of you, unretrievable. 

“Speak a the devil.” Tommy’s voice breaks you out of reflection, looking past you, and you turn to see Joel, halfway in the doorway, devastating eyes and all. For a moment you just watch him, awkward in the doorway, admiring his presence, but you keep a straight, neutral face. You look back at Tommy as you take a last swig of your drink and he smiles with understanding eyes. 

Hopping down from your stool and strolling towards Joel, you have to bite hard back a smile, though you’re still pissed. Catching him doing the same, you briefly question why you have to do this dance instead of just leaping back into each other, mixing into your color and staying like that in his bed, which must be so soft and comfortable and warm with him in it. He is so god damn beautiful and it’s been so long that your hands twist nervously behind your back and you feel yourself blushing, so you turn your head down as you near him. You have good reason to show him you’re upset, though—the dance is important. 

“Can we talk?” He asks you, voice entirely soft. 

You look up at him, pause, and then nod. Joel turns back outside slowly and does more than he needs to to hold the door for you.

Winter is near its end but you’ve arrived just in time for a cold snap; the wind has picked up significantly in the short time you’ve been inside, icey and sharp, and you bend your head down against it and hug yourself. Joel starts to put his arm around you but pulls away, glancing at you with awkward steps towards his house. 

“Hold me.” You answer, so he does, arm around your shoulders, curving himself around you as the wind whips. The man is a living furnace, you can feel it even like this. 

—

It’s silent until you’re back in Joel’s house, too cold and windy for any kind of conversation. Adjusting to the indoors, you both blow out sighs, and Joel impulsively helps you out of your coat and hangs it on the peg next to his on the wall by the door. Then he just stands awkwardly; he’s never been good at this. What’s important, though, is that he’s trying. Waiting patiently for him to gather his thoughts, you lean against a wall with your hands behind your back. After a moment, he looks around, sucking his teeth, and then moves ungainly to sit in a chair at the table. You follow and sit across from him. More silence, he fiddles with his hands on the table in front of him and grinds his teeth. Under the table, you run a finger back and forth over the wood’s grooves on its apron. 

“Okay,” he starts, then pauses, keeping his gaze on his hands. “I’m sorry.” His voice sounds rehearsed, like he said ‘I’m sorry’ in his head twenty times before he spoke it. “I was wrong. I didn’t mean t’… I mean I’d be pissed too, if you said sum’n like that to me. I know that’s not you. I was jus’… scared,” he wills the word out, looking off to some spot on the floor, “You’re right, I,” he pauses, then motions his hand up in circles next to his head, “I jus’, made this whole story up in my head. I mean we haven’t even talked about, y’know, what’s happened in the past five years. I have no idea what you did or didn’t do, and it’s not my business unless you want it to be. I jus’, I don’t know,” he shifts back in his chair and fiddles with his hands again, “I was just afraid that y’d… forgott’n about me or found someone better or, uhh…y–y–”

Watching him start to fumble over his words, you decide that now is an ok time to cut in, starting quiet and gentle, “I didn’t.” Joel looks at you as you speak, his brow furrowed up. “I never forgot about you. I thought about you every day. I was scared, too, I didn’t know anything about how you were doing or where you were, I didn’t know if I was ever gonna see you again, but I just lived like I would. I couldn’t let you go. I couldn’t, I wasn’t able to. And there’s no one better, Joel,” you slide your hand over the table to take one of his. He unclasps them to fold it in and watches his thumb stroke over your hand. “You are the only one. What I feel for you can’t be touched. Even if I tried, I don’t think I could be with anyone else. But I didn’t try. All I did was miss you.”

At that, Joel takes your hand with both of his, taking a deep breath, and then leans in to place soft kisses over your knuckles, peering up at you as he does. A bolt in your core throbs heat into the rest of your body and you feel slightly dizzy. Again, you haven't had any kind of touch like this since the last time you were with Joel, so you’re starving for it, but above all, for Joel. His lips are gentle, his hands are warm and burly folded around yours. 

You slip your hand out of his and get up from the table. He watches you walk to his side to fix your level of separation and he stands and joins you back into an embrace. 

You sink into each other, bodies and minds fusing as if you were never apart. You match temperatures so all you feel is the pressure of his hands sliding up your back, under your shirt. In his hold, your back is arched and your hips are met; there’s barely any space between your bodies at all. You hold onto his face, running your hands over it, messing up his hair, focusing on his lips, letting him do the work on your body. Joel places a hand on the front of your thigh and starts slowly dragging it up. You twitch under it, desire like a lightning storm around under his touch. You nearly jerk into it and he finally slides his broad hand flush between your thighs. Your head falls back and he doesn’t miss a beat, moving his lips on your neck, and it forces a moan out of you. 

“You like that?” He says into your skin, barely out of a kiss, nose pressed against it. 

“Yes,” you whine, “please, oh my god.”

You feel Joel smile into your neck and he nips it. “Jump up.” You do, his hands out and ready to catch your thighs. This was a regular trick of yours and apparently your bodies haven’t forgotten it. As he starts for the stairs, you lean yourself over his shoulder. The placement of his hands are in both the best and worst spot, splayed just barely over every area you want him to touch. You hold onto his neck as he brings you upstairs and laugh when he kicks his bedroom door open, making it bang loudly against the wall. Once you drop back down to the ground, you connect your mouths again and immediately start to strip. While you struggle with the buttons on his shirt he undoes his belt and jeans and then yours. You rip his flannel off of him, annoyed at it, and then slide your hands under his shirt. You feel over his chest, around his back, and up his sides, relishing in it, and he chuckles into your lips before helping you pull it off. He wastes no time on your shirt, loving that you’re braless, caressing your chest, and then pulls you in, pressing your bare fronts together. You moan in the satisfaction of feeling him like this again. His calloused hands run smoothly up your back and on their way down pass briefly under your waistband. You raise him by slipping your hand all the way into his jeans, cupping his hardening cock. He swears into your mouth as you find hold of it. It electrifies you further, having forgotten about this part of him. Quickening breaths deepen the rise and fall of your chest against his.

He pulls his lips from yours and his voice is gruff when he says, “You’re killin’ me darlin’.”

The tone and the way he’s hardening in your hands is driving you wildly lustful and you tell him frankly, voice pitched high, “I want you so bad Joel I love your cock I need you to fuck me,” all of this wet into his lips. 

Immediately, Joel tugs down your pants, but when they’re at your knees, he pulls away to look at you and he says “Boots.” You both laugh breathily and sit down on the edge of his bed—your pants still halfway down—undoing your laces hastily. He finishes first and then helps you untie the laces of your other shoe, both of you chuckling with heavy breaths. You kick them off and then Joel moves in front of you, taking hold of the cuffs of your jeans to pull them off. Once they are, in one swift motion, he opens your legs up with his in between them, and, still standing but leaning over you on the bed, he slips his hand back between your legs. He places it flush against you through your underwear, which would be embarrassingly dirty, but who fucking cares? They’ll be gone soon anyway. Joel’s mouth opens amorously, watching your eyes as you let out a long, embarrassingly pornographic moan at the raw enough contact. He slides down deeper, the heel of his hand pressing lightly and thrillingly on your clit and you gasp into another moan. He grins and then leans his head down to your neck, dragging his tongue up its full length.

“Fuck,” you drawl involuntarily as a shiver runs through you and you hook your arms under his to claw his back. When Joel slides his hand back up between your legs, wetness seeps from your slit. Joel chuckles erotically, his breath over the line of his saliva on your neck making it worse and your legs open wider. The heat under his hand matches that in your chest and your breaths are more desperate in want of him.

Fed up of him taking it so slow, you slide your hands under him and push him up, holding onto his biceps to pull you up with him as he stands, and lick into his mouth. Your other hand goes straight into his pants and under his briefs, teasing him like he had you. When he moans into your mouth you squeeze only slightly and then slowly move your hand up until your thumb comes to the spot just before the underside of his tip. You begin working it like that, teasing him wet and sensitive in your hand. 

Joel pulls his face away from yours, eyes closed, and breathes out “Shit.” He squeezes the arm reached down and moves his hips into your hand. You keep at it, biting your lip watching him. “Ah, oh, fuck,” he mumbles, almost sluring his words, and warns, “If you don’t stop I’m gonna cum,” when you do stop, he groans. 

Bringing your hand away from him, you settle it on his belly and wrap your other arm around his neck to nuzzle your face into it and mumble, “I missed your cock so much, I miss feeling it, I wanna see you cum,”

“Fuck.” Joel states, then commands, “Lay back on the bed.” You do as you’re told, propping yourself up with your forearms behind you on the bed and watch him drop his pants. Finally naked, his cock bounces to flip onto his stomach, reaching just under his belly button; dark curls hide everything else. Your sigh is almost a moan just looking at him, like a meaty roman sculpture of the exemplary man. His brow shadows sultry eyes and, like an animal in heat, you open your legs, peering up at him needily.

He slowly crawls over you and whispers, “Move up for me darlin’,” nodding his head to the side for you to lay properly on the bed, head on his pillow. He reaches past you to click on the bedside lamp and then sits up on his knees, admiring you under the golden–yellow light. He places a large hand on your stomach, adding pressure as he slivers it up to fondle your chest.

You appreciate the sentiment, but you have plenty of time for slow, worship sex, and right now, “Joel please I need you to fuck me,”

Smirking, he growls, “Since you asked so nice,” and lowers himself onto you, kissing sluggishly. He doesn’t bother to remove his face from against yours to take your underwear off, just tugs at them until they find their way to slip off. Then, as he positions himself, your thigh slides over his—it’s small, but something about it makes you sigh sensually.

“You ready for me baby?” Joel asks, hovering his lips over yours.

You could come up with some clever remark but now is not the time, so you simply whine, “Yes, Joel, please, I need you,”

“Yeah?” He says, low and lazy, and then moans softly as he eases his thick length into you. Deep satisfaction flows through you as he fills you up, humming and moaning. Your foreheads press together as you adjust, both your mouths wide open, and Joel’s fist clutches the sheets next to your head. He brings himself back out slowly until only his tip is inside you, and then his free hand clutches your side as if to hold you in place as he reinserts himself and begins thrusting, now only barely pulling any length out before plunging back in. Your lungs jump and clumsy moans pour out of you as the force of it rocks your hips. 

Joel licks your cheek and then, grabbing hold of your hips to keep himself inside you, pulls himself to sit on his knees. Stretching your arms up, you bear yourself to him, and his mouth has yet to close. He bites his lip before starting to fuck you again, both harder and faster, holding your lower back completely off of the bed. 

“Only me, huh?” He says, breaths bumping as he drives himself into you, “I’m the only one that touches you?”

“Yes,” you moan out. 

“You touched yourself, though did’n you?” You answer in the same way, “You thought about me while you did, huh?” 

“Uh-huh,” you sound, high pitched as he starts to fuck you harder. 

“Did it feel this good?”

“No,” your drawn out answer catches with the force of his hips pounding against you. 

Joel’s head falls back as he speeds up and you already feel yourself start to constrict around him. 

“Shit,” he looks back down at you, hums aggressively, and slows his pace dramatically. “No baby, not yet, not yet.” As he pulls out fully, precum flicks onto your stomach and he drops your hips. Back down on top of you, your body weighs into the bed under his and your mouths bond again.

Joel can’t keep his cock out of you for long, though, keeping up messy kisses, each rolling into the next in a flux, he shoves his hand down to slip back into you and fucks a quick tempo that makes the bed creak. One of his hands stays planted on the bed next to your head and the other goes back to hold your hip, pulling you into him with each of his thrusts. Angled slightly up inside of you, he hits a spot that produces a guttural moan from you, and while your mouth is wide open with it, Joel doesn’t quit biting and licking at your lips. 

Your body reacts without you, your hand slithering over him—up his arms, his torso, his back, one landing to grip his hair and the other reaching at his hip. The way he bucks into you now hinders your ability to kiss but your faces rub and touch, sharing the same hot air, moaning over each other. 

After one loud, long moan, Joel pulls out of you again in a swift motion, moaning through pants. 

“Joel why the fuck do you keep stopping,” you slap your palms on his chest in frustration, legs still spread under him. 

“Well I js’ don’t wanna cum too fast,” he answers innocently.

“Joel I have been waiting five years…” he starts to chuckle and you smile, “for you to cum.” You slap his chest again and then decide to take this matter into your own hands, pushing him up to get yourself on top. You straddle him, his cock resting stiff and shining on his stomach. Back up at his face, you look into dark eyes, his lips parted with heavy breaths, and you slide your fingers through his hair, gripping a bunch, silver strands highlighted in the light. Keeping eye contact, Joel’s fingers trail lightly down either of your sides as you sit up, sliding his joystick into your hold, and he hums as you sit down on it. After adjusting to his throbbing size, you come up and back down slowly a few times, and then begin swinging your hips to fuck him. A loud, long moan cracks out of him and he closes his eyes and seizes your hips. You release his hair and instead hold into his thick, veiny forearms like handlebars as you accelerate. He moans, long and loud again, and, keeping up a beat with your hips, you lay down on him, pressing your body against his, and eat the moans from his mouth. He adjusts his hold by wrapping an arm around the middle of your back to hold you down and squeezing your ass with the other as if to help your hips along. To keep yourself stabilized enough to keep your mouths together—you could barely call it kissing anymore, just sliding tongues and lips however you can—you plant your hands on the bed with your arms like you would doing a pushup. 

Even though you’re on top, Joel is in control now, holding you to fuck up into you.

He angles his head down so that your foreheads stay pressed but he can speak, “Fuck babygirl you feel so good, so fuckin’ tight, I fill you up so good, huh? Pussy’s just for me to cum in, huh? All fr’ me? All mine? Can you tell me you’re all mine?” His words and breaths catch with the rhythm of the surging flux of your bodies rolling together. You feel his muscles jolting in his lower abdomen as he drives in and out and those in his arm twitching against your back with the force of it. The way he fills you is carnally satisfying and overdue and you never want it to stop.

“Yes, yes, all yours, all for you, my pussy’s all for you—fuuck—yours, my pussy belongs to you,”

“Thas’ right, babygirl, you belong to me.” He takes your bottom lip with his teeth and pulls your mouth back to roll his tongue into and unfurls his arm around you to grasp a bundle of hair. 

Suddenly, he maneuvers you to flump your back on the bed, bringing himself back on top, and immediately stuffs himself back into you. He grips your hips again to fuck you like he was before, controlling you like a doll, and you grab onto his wrists.

“Fuck, babygirl,” he continues, fucking with an immediately brutal pace, hitting you somewhere deep and perfect but he’s talking over you too much to be able to tell him you’re going to cum, “I was so spolied, I didn’ realize how spoiled I was with this lil’ pussy,” he bumps you hard and rough a couple times to emphasize, “perfect lil’ pussy on my perfect lil’ girl, my sweet girl, so good to me,” Joel tilts forward, keeping himself securely deep between your legs, and releases one of your hips—which you would not be surprised to be bruised exactly in the form of his fingers—to stroke his hand over your cheek, and then gently hooks his thumb in your mouth, pulling your lip out to the side. “Now I get t’ fuck you every fuckin’ night, cause you’re all mine n’ I’m all yours, gonna make you cum every fuckin’ night,” your hips inadvertently lurch against him and you bark a moan and his thumb trails out of your mouth as your head leans back onto the bed. You haven’t had your body move like this in awhile, an animal in and of itself, innately greedy for its mate. Joel sounds almost excited when he says, “Ooh, oh, you gonna cum babygirl?” He sits back on his calves rather than standing on his knees and readjusts his hold on your hips, hands digging into the flesh defining your waist to your hips, and pulls you into his rough, uncoordinated thrusts, driving the entirety of his shaft into you so deep that you feel pressure pushing up in your stomach with each rocking tug. He pants out moans, watching you attentively as your face screws up while you reach your personal crescendo. 

The only time you feel this desperate for something is when you’re about to die—such a blind need, a moment stretched out that you will to continue until you are satiated, and oh does Joel deliver. 

“Go on babygirl, go on n’ cum for me, cum around my cock, be a good girl an’ show me you’re mine, I wanna make you cum, baby cum for me, cum for me,” 

His pleading encouragement is more than enough to pierce the balloon swelling in your stomach, already being bumped rapturously by his manhood. One of your hands is thrown back, grasping at the sheets, the other remaining around his wrist. Your eyes roll back in your head, you suck in a breath and there is a moment of silence, save for the creaking bed, before you break it with a ridiculous, long moan, perceiving only the bursts of ecstasy from Joel’s messy pace, which he quickens with breathy moans. Your contractions around him are dramatic, essentially sucking his dick inside of you like instinct. He pulls you against him and is mostly still besides his hips, which rapidly lurch, drawing out your orgasm to overlap with his. He falls silent again, mouth open and his brow furrowed, eyes also nearly rolled back in his head, as he mechanically glides short in and outs, nearly all of him buried inside of you, pulling back an inch at a time at most as he uses your trembling, sheathlike pussy to stroke out his cum. Then, as his hips jerk forward, leaning into you, and then jerk in again, moans squeeze out of his throat, and he finishes pressed into you. 

Panting, you stay pressed and gaze at each other, more or less astonished. 

“God damn.” Joel is the first to comment.

You laugh, out of breath, feeling him ooze inside of you. “We really get to do that every night.”

“My god I’m in heaven.” He half jokes with a smile, then relaxes your position with a huff, letting his softening length fall out and rest over you. Joel runs his hands up and down your body in two broad strokes, looking you over, then smirks and chuckles breathily. Then he slaps your thighs and simply offers, “Shower?” and laughs as your face lights up.

“Fuck I almost forgot about that!” You grin with wide, excited eyes, and follow him off the bed, squeezing your legs together a little, still filled with his cum, as you walk to the bathroom attached to Joel’s room. You admire the back of him as he turns the squeaky knobs. You can count on one hand how many times you’ve gotten this kind of full view of him; as many times as you’ve been naked with each other, it’s almost always had to have been somewhat ducked and rushed. His back is casually muscular and he has ever so slight love handles. A knee bent outwards shows off a round ass. 

Hearing the water start to spray, you can’t help a giggle, eager, and he twists to you with a smirking grin and laughs. 

“Oh man,” he chuckles as he turns his back, meticulously adjusting the temperature, then twists his head again, looking at you expectantly, “Well come on, then,” and you patter over. He gently takes your hand to lead you into the square stall, and moves behind you to slide the glass door shut. 

There is no need for him to walk you through the process of taking a shower, but he slowly guides you under the spray anyway, and you gasp as it hits you, still heating up, not used to the sensation. You hadn't realized that it’s been so long that you’ve forgotten how a shower feels and it disturbs you slightly, feeling a little feral versus Joel’s domesticated cleanliness, but his light, absent minded smile eases the thoughts out as he walks in a few slow steps, backing you up to join you under the showerhead’s broad spray. He leans his head back, closes his eyes under the water, and lets go of you to smooth his hair back as the water soaks it. When he opens his eyes again, he smiles at you and smoothes his hands over your wet face. 

“Turn around,” he nods, and you do. He stops touching you, leaving you unnerved for only a moment until his hands come back over your upper back, cool soap gliding them over your skin. He squeezes your shoulders lightly and it makes you sigh, then slides his hands over your shoulders, up and down each arm individually, adding more slight, relaxing pressure, and then his hands follow the personal downward design of your body as he shifts his body against your back. Stubble tickles your neck and you giggle as he nudges in to place innocent kisses over your neck while he washes your chest, then slipping soapy hands down your sides to your waist, hips, and what he can reach of your thighs. Humming out a deep sigh, you feel dazed and limp under the hot, deeply relaxing water. Joel embraces you from behind, just resting his face in your neck, standing still with his arms around you. 

Suddenly, you’re hit with the urge to cry. This is the safest you’ve felt in a long, long time. Not only are you in Jackson, a secure compound where you can go see a friend for a drink and take a hot shower with the promise of fresh clothes, but your love is finally with you, solid and warm, holding you with strong arms and gentle lips. You can’t hold it back, and when Joel feels it he removes himself and turns you around. “What’s wrong babygirl?” concern contorts his face. 

Smiling as much as your crying allows, you answer, “Nothing.” 

Understanding, Joel pouts his lips in an emotional smile and pulls you back in, hooking his arms under yours to support your weight, and your arms follow up around his neck. “I know.” You let it go and weep quietly against him. “It’s alright baby. I got’chou. You’re alright, darlin’.” He reassures you. After a couple minutes, you calm, suddenly very tired, barely opening your eyes when Joel pulls away. “Oh, baby,” he chuckles, “don’t go to sleep in the shower. Lemme finish you up real quick, then you can go to bed n’ I’ll get you some new clothes from Maria.”

“No,” you murmur, “don’t leave me.”

“Alright, alright,” he pulls you back in, “I’ll stay with you. I’ll never leave you.” He sighs serenely into the crook of your neck. “You can just borrow some’m my clothes, n’ I’ll talk to Maria in the mornin’. Okay?” You nod. “Alright, baby,” he readjusts his embrace around you, “let’s just get into bed, we can give you a proper shower later. Plenty a time. You can take a shower every day if you want, a hot shower every day. An’ I’ll stay with you every night. Jus’ like like this.” Joel’s hands rub up and down your body, “Warm like this. Every day will be warm jus’ like this now, my love.”

#the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller the last of us #the last of us fic #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller tlou #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #tlou #joel tlou #tlou hbo

[kairismess]

you know who ive been thinking over lately? lev😉. sooooo do you think you can write something about shy reader finally building up the courage to ask him out since he’s never caught her “subtle hints” (she stares at him…) then taking him to what you think his favorite type of date would be? love ya!

HI LOVELYYYYYY omg CUTEEEEEEEEE @zdenque this is for u too bbg :3 ⭐

you mean it? – lev haiba x fem!reader

🏐 genre: fluff !

🖋️ word count: 906

💗 special mentions: @zdenque @xoxo-cha

he always had the tendency to catch your eye, and how couldn't he? standing at 6'5 with ash colored hair, and those tantalizing emerald eyes you couldn't not stare into every time he was near. he such a contagious smile, one that tickled you in the way that you'd be smiling for the rest of the day if you saw his grin–he was just that adorable.

you weren't exactly the bold type, but you did have a very expressive heart that beat a mile a minute, or stopped beating whenever you'd hear his voice or he'd give you friendly pats or touches. and though you weren't one to make the first move, you couldn't help but keep your gaze on him as he jumps up to spike or block–or even just smile and be his jolly, kind of goofy, self.

you loved lev haiba, and it sucked how you could never tell him.

you always worried you'd be too obvious or too clingy, but those concepts never occurred to the boy–he was just glad to have such a caring, loving friend like you; even if that said friend yearned for a more intimate connection with him, something that gave rewarded all the endless affection and adoration you had for him. ultimately, after months of harboring this secret crush on him, you finally took your first step, and... told him in one, swift breath:

"iloveyoulev."

the silver-haired boy stared at you with a neutral expression, his gaze unmoving as you got even more hot in the face, avoiding his stare even more as he laughed a little at your confession, not realizing it was a serious one; because how could someone as cute and gentle as you like someone as reckless and dense as him? "hah, okay, what a funny joke, you really had me there, though! who knew you could look so adorably flustered on command?" he asked you in between giggles, pinching your cheeks and smiling wider.

your gaze was casted downwards as you muttered that, no, it wasn't a joke—you really did love him, so, so much. you always have.

the boy stared at you with a smile frozen on his face, and all of a sudden, your words sunk in; your bashful demeanor at the moment reflected just how true your feelings were... and it finally hit him, after months of you secretly pining for him and dropping hints like crazy—lev haiba understood, in that moment, that the girl of his dreams fell for him. and he couldn't believe a single bit of it.

the smile on his face widened a little, his eyes growing wide as well as he stared at you and blushed like crazy; he looked like a strawberry, one you just wanted to sink your teeth into. you called out his name in a stutter, not meeting his eyes, hoping he wouldn't be too boisterous about it, because if the rest of the team knew, you'd melt. but instead, lev wrapped his arms around you and pulled you a little closer, awkwardly hugging you by instinct.

he chuckled lightly and whispered in your ear, "i... i really love you, too. wow, it, uh...how long have you—" "f-for... several months now—" "months?!" he exclaimed loudly, perking his head up in surprise, blushing tenfold. he couldn't believe that the girl he had been so smitten with, ever since the day he laid eyes on her and shared that first awkward, yet unforgettable, conversation with her actually loved him. he chuckled even more and pulled away, smiling from ear-to-ear.

"c-can i be your boyfriend now...? i-i wanna do all those cutesy couple things with you... l-like go to fairs with you, give you piggyback rides wh-when you're tired, a-and even let you borrow my clothes! i'd let you sleep on me on the ride home, j-just... b-be my girlfriend... and i'll love you the best i can." lev promises as he gets on one knee, barely leveling with you since his height was so massive, but that didn't matter at the moment—what mattered right now was that lev finally had a chance with the most perfect girl in the world... and he wasn't going to let you go from his grasp, not when he wants to try his hand at making you feel so happy and loved.

he takes your smaller hands in his own, and he's shaking; his hands are warm, a little coarse, much wider than you're own—but he's shaking with anxiety and excitement. he wants you to be his first girlfriend, and he wants you to be the most loved person in his life right now. he wouldn't rush you, but... he can't help himself; he's too hung up on the high of love and the feeling of loving you that he can't control himself and take things slow, when he can be the best boyfriend for you if you'd just say the word.

"please... think it through, but... know that i'm right here if you ever decide. i... i love you. so, so, so much!" he exclaims, the crack in his voice becoming increasingly obvious as his ears and nose tinge red and pink, his eyes glimmering with pure joy and love for you. he knew from the start you'd be the one for him, and now, he wants to be the one for you—what do you say to your new, lovesick sweetheart?

#lev haiba #lev x reader #lev haiba x reader #lev haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu lev #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

Can I request an Aaron Hotchner x autistic!daughter young adult ideally but any age. Or even she’s on the team and he’s a father figure to her because her own is so ableist. My dad is so ableist and I have so much autistic trauma from him even though my autism is from him too. He thinks that gives him even more rights to say whatever he wants to me and bully me even more. I just need to know what it feels like to have a good dad who cares about my autism. Who cares about me ❤️❤️

Aaron Hotchner x Autistic! Young adult reader

Of course I can, I'm sorry you have to deal with that, my parents have trouble understanding my Autism as well but they are getting better. I will write this for you!

Summary: Y/Ns ableist Dad comes to the BAU and starts being an Ableist arsehole to his daughter, her father figure (Hotch) steps in and saves her.

Third Person pov...

It had been 3 years since Y/N L/N joined the BAU, she was 21 when she joined and instantly became the baby of the team and Hotch became her Dad, Y/N is autistic and has sensory issues.

Ever since she was little her father was ablest and would bully her and verbally abuse her saying how her being Autistic meant something was wrong with her and that she needed fixing, the man caused her to have so many meltdowns and sensory overloads that it made others concerned her teachers as school.

He was later arrested for child abuse and was sent to prison, Y/N was then left with her neighbours who were a nice loving family and always liked her but hated her dad and were glad she got away from him after suffering for years, her Mum was out of the picture.

The young girl had so much trauma from her childhood when she joined the BAU that Hotch became her father figure, their relationship helped mend Y/Ns trauma from her bio dad and she was able to live comfortably knowing he wasnt in her life anymore, she was treated with respect and was always told that her autism wasn't a bad thing.

From being with Penelope and Spencer (who are also Autistic) her relationship with her Autism was mended and she was able to be herself, while with her dad she could stim or doing anything 'autistic' but with her new found family she was free to stim and had all her accomedations, if anyone disrespected her or called her weird they would have to deal with an angry Hotch and the rest of the team.

It was a normal day for the team, they weren’t on a case and for once they all got to relax and fill out paperwork, well aside from Hotch and Spencer no one was doing any paperwork, Derek and Emily were sat giggling loudly like children as they kept throwing rolled up pieces of paper at their second youngest member.

The laughter increased as they kept hitting their mark, Spencers head, the genius was none the wiser as a pile of paper was forming around him at their many failed attempts. From the side JJ and Penelope sit and watch as Spencer doesn't realise, opposite the genius sat Y/N she was busy spinning in her chair with her headphones on and watching the scene play out.

She had the perfect poker face for when a paper ball hit Spencer's head, as the children in the bull pen play the two adults Hotch and Rossi where actually getting work done, , well Hotch was at least the Italian was drinking and watching the kids outside keeping an eye on them as someone responsible needed too.

As Y/N continued to spin around her in chair she didn’t hear the heavy footsteps off someone walking up behind her, the H/C woman was suddenly yanked off her chair and onto the hard floor by a man, in the process of being manhandled her headphones when flying off her head.

“What did I tall ya about doing that Girl!” exclaimed a voice that haunted her nightmares, gasping in terror Y/N stared frozen at her Father who was suppose to be in prison, the large man had a sickening grin on his face as he saw the terror in his daughter eyes.

“Yes its me!” he laughed that horrible laugh that had Y/N holding her hands overs her ears, the 21 year old was still frozen on the floor while the others were staring at the scene before them guns raised, by this time Hotch and Rossi had heard what happened and were out of their offices.

“bu-but your supposed to be in jail!” exclaimed Y/N finally finding her voice stuttering, the man looked down at her crumpled form, he then grabbed the front of her blouse pulling his daughter close. “they let me out for good behaviour, did ya miss me!” he semi whispered as Y/Ns face grew a sickening pale white, she scrambled to get away but the man wouldn’t let go instead he raised his hand and slapped her.

Y/N cried out in pain. “you really didn’t think I could be held for long did ya you retard! You really are still a fucked in the head as you were years ago” yelled the man, Hotch had had enough, he rain down thw ramp arms raised, gun in his hands. “Get your hands on hr now, you do realise you just assaulted a federal agent” growled out Hotch as the man teared his eyes away from the shivering form of his daughter.

He spat at Hotch. “your not her father I am, this waste of space in am Agent HA!”!” he laughed again and kicked Y/N hard in the ribs, Penelope gasps tears in her eyes as she witnesses her friend get beaten. Y/N holds in her cries of pain and raises her head from the floor glaring at the man.

“your not my dad you never have been!” she cried tears rolling down her face, the sadistic man smirked at the tears rolling down his daughters face, the sight reminding off when she was a kid and he would verbally abuse her, he had never hit her before now, it felt good.

Her words made him angry. “I am your father retard, though I hate to admit it you share my blood, your as stupid as I remember crying on the floor like the child you are to stupid to do what I say” he goes on on berating Y/N and saying how stupid she was once again verbally abusing her, as he went on his rant Y/N managed to stand up.

She was then pulled behind Hotch, his finger close to pulling the trigger. “you Bastard, you shut the fuck up now, you have crossed the line now get out of my building and away from my Daughter before I pump your body full of bullets!” yelled Hotch threw clenched teeth, he was so close to pulling the trigger instead he stormed up so he was chest to chest with the man and pulled back his fist.

When he lets go his right hand connected with the nose he was satisfied to feel it shatter, a smirk on his face before gesturing to a couple of agents. “now don’t ever come back or I will kill you” Hotches hand was burning but he felt satisfied when Y/Ns Dad freeze before he tsked and stormed out not before calling Y/N the R slur before he was detained by two agents ans forced into handcuffs.

Hotch crossed his arms before turning around to hug Y/N was had collapsed, the stress from her dad coming in draining her, she was then sat at her desk with Hotch hovering around her looking at her injuries, E/C eyes locked on his brown ones.

“Im your daughter” she whispers hoarsely, this made Hotch smile and run his hand through her hair. “of course, you are sweetie” he smiled softly kissing her forehead still smiling when she smiles back.

The end!!

Hoped you liked this oneshot so sorry for the wait! As usual sorry for the grammar and spelling mistake!

Requests are open!

Word count: 1366

#criminal minds #fanfic #behavioural analysis unit #fluff and comfort #light angst #oneshot #x daughter!reader #aaron hotchner #father daughter fluff #verbal abuse #child abuse #angst #fuck ableists #ableist slurs #aaron hotchner x daughter!reader #x young adult reader #x autistic reader #lota of angst #fluff ending #x child reader

[ahonice]

right where you left me

luke hughes x fem reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: angst, cursing, reader is a sad little bitch.

note: another song fic smh, i don’t like this one very much but i just needed to write something.

italics are song lyrics

+++

friends break up, friends get married. strangers get born, strangers get buried. trends change, rumors fly through new skies, but i’m right where you left me.

you met luke the night you moved into your college dorm freshman year, your parents were unable to stay to take you out to dinner so they gave you thirty dollars to go to a local diner. so there you were, having the most depressing meal of your life, when a boy slid into the seat across from you.

“you look really sad.” 

“thank you.”

he laughed before apologizing, “i don’t mean it to be rude, but is everything okay? this is the saddest i’ve ever seen someone with a milkshake in front of them.”

“yea i’m okay, just moved into my dorm today and my parents weren't able to stay for dinner. i guess i just miss them.” you looked up from your untouched plate of chicken fingers to see who exactly was talking to you.

“oh i get that, i moved in a couple days ago. the first night is definitely the hardest.” he offered you a smile and stuck his hand out, “i’m luke.”

“y/n.”

matches burn after the other. pages turn and stick to each other. wages earned and lessons learned, but i’m right where you left me.

you found yourself at that diner a lot, going there to do your homework late at night when your roommate needed the lights off, going there whenever you were sad or just needed time to yourself, as well as going there whenever you and your boyfriend had a date night. it wasn’t the only restaurant you and luke ate at, but it was the most common one.

your relationship with luke was great, you were happy, he was happy, everyone around you was happy. that’s why you were blindsided when luke suggested you take a break during your weekly date nights.

“i just think that’s what is best for me, and for us, going forward. i need to focus on my rookie season in the nhl, i can’t have any distractions.” hearing luke refer to you as a distraction hurt, everything about what he was saying hurt. 

“okay.” you didn’t want to agree, you wanted to fight him on it.

“once next season is over, then we can get back together, reevaluate everything.”

“okay.” one year, one year without him seemed impossible to you, but you needed to let this happen, this would only strengthen your relationship. luke would soon see what a life without you was and all you could do was hope he didn’t like it. this was the last thing you wanted, but you didn’t need him resenting you for any issues that could possibly come up during his rookie season that could easily be tied back to “he has a girlfriend, he is distracted, he isn’t putting hockey first”.

help i’m still at the restaurant, still sitting in the corner i haunt. cross legged in the dim light, they say what a sad sight. i swear, you could hear a hair pin drop, right when i felt the moment stop, glass shattered on the white cloth, everybody moved on, i stayed there, dust collected on my pinned up hair. they expected me to find somewhere, some perspective, but i sat and stared right where you left me.

your visits to the diner became more frequent after luke moved to new jersey, you were there the second your classes were finished for the day and you didn’t leave until the early hours in the morning. 

you were used to it, the pity glances from the other customers when your tears began to spill, the sad smiles from the waitresses that had become all too familiar to you, the text messages from your friends and luke’s teammates checking up on you. nobody seemed to understand why you guys were broken up, but all you could respond with when they asked was “we aren’t broken up, we’re on a break.”

did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? time went on for everybody else, she won’t know it. she’s still twenty three, inside her fantasy how it was supposed to be. did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion? breakups happen everyday you don’t have to lose it. she’s still twenty three, inside her fantasy.

you were in the diner, in that same booth where two of the three lightbulbs that hung from the ceiling were burnt out, more often than you were on campus. after summer break, once you had begun your junior year of college, you tried to avoid the diner with all that you had in you. your roommates telling you it does no good, it will only harm you to be in a place you once associated with happiness that now brings you nothing close to the fact. 

you snuck out of your house at two in the morning after three weeks of being back in ann arbor, hiding your weakness from those you shared walls with, ashamed of yourself as you stood in front of the double doors, the left one still stuck after two years of you coming here. 

you scanned the diner, seeing a couple familiar faces, giving them a fake smile before you made your way into the back corner. a false flash of hope struck you as you saw the back of a boy's head in the booth you could call home, but it wasn’t luke, you knew it wasn’t. you quietly made your way over to the booth, tears in your eyes, and got the attention of the boy in the seat luke once claimed as his.

“can i sit here? i won’t bother you, i just need to sit here.” 

you’re sitting in front of me, at the restaurant, when i was still the one you want. cross legend in the dim light, everything was just right. i could feel the mascara run, you told me that you met someone. glass shattered on the white cloth, everybody moved on.

luke’s rookie season had officially ended with the devils being taken out of the playoffs in the first round, leaving him to head back to michigan while you were still in it. the school year was ending in two weeks and you were studying for your finals when your phone lit up.

from: luke

hey, i’m at the diner. we need to talk.

you could hear your heartbeat in your ears as you abandoned all of your materials and ran towards your car. you went fifteen over while driving to the diner, rolling through a few too many stop signs as well, but you made it and quickly went inside. you smiled as you saw the familiar back profile of your boyfriend sitting in your booth. 

“hey luke.” you smiled, sitting down across from him.

“i met someone else.” your smile fell just as fast as your heart broke. in the time that luke was trying to figure out his career, life on his own, trying to be the best that he could be without any form of distraction, he met someone else. “-and i’m sorry. i didn’t mean for it to happen, it just did.”

you scoffed, your sadness quickly turned into anger. “how long?” 

“i met her the night of my first game.” it was like the wind had been knocked out of you, that was only six days after you had agreed to go on a break, it took him six days to decide that you were not what he wanted, but what really made you angry was how long it took him to tell you.

“luke that was over a year ago, why did you not tell me sooner?” the tears in your eyes threatened to spill, but you wouldn’t let them, at least not in front of him. 

your question was met with silence, the tension in the air was so thick it was choking you. 

“this whole time you were with another girl? while i was pathetically sitting around, waiting for you, because i really thought that we were doing this whole thing so you could test the waters of your life in the nhl, but really you wanted to test the waters of your life without me.” you quickly stood up, cutting luke off before he could even try to speak. “goodbye luke.”

help, i’m still at the restaurant. still sitting in the corner i haunt. cross legend in the dim light they say what a sad sight. i stayed there. dust collected on my pinned up hair. i’m sure you’ve got a wife out there. kids and christmas, but i’m unaware. cause i’m right where i cause no harm. mind my business, if our loved died young, i can’t bear no witness and it's been so long.

you had just graduated and you decided to spend your last night in ann arbor in the diner, but this time you had company. your parents, friends, and boyfriend william. william was the boy who was sitting in luke’s seat that one night during your junior year, a friendship had blossomed after you that depressing night. it was never anything romantic, until you and luke officially broke up because you had the common decency that luke apparently lacked. tonight was unlike any night you had spent in the diners in the years before, you were happy, you were sitting in that same booth with all three lightbulbs lit, you could see other patrons and the waitresses and for once they weren’t looking at you with pity. 

i’m right where, you left me.

+++

note: lol i actually hate this but i needed to write something i haven't in weeks (because i have zero inspo lmao i need help) but anyways enjoy, leave feedback, tell me if you loved it if you hated it, anything. love y’all babes!! have a great day <3

#ahonice writes #luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader #new jersey devils #nhl imagine

[sugarsfics]

Crushing On The Babysitter

Summary: Eddie finally has the courage to ask out his crush. What happens when she is babysitting? Not just babysitting anyone, he little sheep. Those same sheep he just told that having a crush is force conformity.  

A/N: Hiiii I'm Sugar this is my first fic and so many more to come so enjoy;)

Warnings: Use of Y/N, fluff, horrible writing.

Word count: 1.0k

Eddie fake gags as he watches Lucas stare at Max with the biggest heart eyes ever. As he looks around the table, he sees that almost all the boys have their eyes on someone, except for Mike and Dustin who are arguing on who's girlfriends are better. “Boys!” he says as he slams his lunch box on the table. “ Have you all been taken in my the dark side of the female gaze” he continues “Yes they are nice to look at but would they really want to be with us, us freaks it is all just force conformity” Dustin pipes in “Well Mike and I do have girlfriends” “ Still not believing till I see them, but as I was saying before they want you to look to fall in love for you to buy them stupid crap and that money that you are spending to make your “lover” happy goes straight to the big man’s pocket, that is way I never had or never will have a crush” oh boy was that a lie. 

Eddie has been hung up on the same girl since 8th grade. Y/N L/N. Just like him you were an outcast, a nerd. Your older brother was the founder of Hellfire and was very welcoming to Eddie. Sophomore year, your brother graduated and passed on the torch to you. Eddie was head over heels for you but was too scared that you did not like him. Oh boy was he wrong. After having many talks with Uncle Wayne, he was ready to ask you out. He asks you to meet him in the Hellfire room but then he got the worst news of his life, he failed senior year. He spent the rest of the day in his van smoking and fell asleep. When he woke up it was 5 pm and ran out and the parking lot was empty, your car was nowhere to been found. He apologized the next day and asked to talk to you again tonight, but you were busy. He never got the courage again then you graduated leaving him behind.  

He got home we you on his mind, as if Uncle Wayne were reading his mind “You would never believe who I saw at the store today” “Who” “Y/N L/N” Eddie’s heart skipped a beat hearing your name “Really?” “Yeah, she said she has been in town for about a month-” “Do you know how long she is staying” “Boy I did not ask her 21 questions” Eddie got a ran to his room “What are you doing” Eddie comes out with a nicer shirt on, his wallet, and a letter “Doing something I should have done a long time ago.  

You have watched the boys every Friday and Saturday since they were 5. It was always Mike, Dustin, Lucas, Will and you at your house or the wheeler’s basement playing D&D and watching movies. Even though you would have thought that you would stop watching the boys since they were now in high school but nope here there are. You plated the food for Mike, Dustin, and Lucas you almost grabbed a four plate out of habit for will, oh how you missed Will. Then the doorbell rang followed by rapid knocking. “Boys come eat” the three boys ran to the dining room. You open the door not excepting the person who was on the other side 

“Eddie?” he was frozen, how could you get more beautiful he thought. “Earth to Eddie” as you wave your hand in front of him. “Oh, sorry hi hey how are you” “I am doing great you?” “I am doing good oh oh these are for you” he brings beautiful boutique of red roses to your face. “Oh, wow thank you Eddie” “No problem I heard that they are the symbol of love so-” “EDDIE?” You both look behind you to see the boys staring at you guys. “Eddie what are you doing here with roses?" says mike Eddie’s face flushed a bright red “I- um – I – Well you see- I was-” “Boys go eat your dinner” “But-” “Now” they walk into the dining room but stay near the wall to hear you guys. “ I didn’t know you knew the freshman” “Yes those are my boys remember the littles one I used to babysit” “ Oh my god those are them” “Yeah isn't it crazy, but why did you stop by” “Oh yea well um listen so the night I stood you up I wanted to tell you something but then something happened, you the whole not graduating thing, then you got busy so um-” he spins and fishes something out of his pocket “ Here!” He gave you a letter. “What is this” “Read it, it will they you everything that I was going to tell you and so much more” he starts walking away until you pull his jacket “Stay, let me read it with you here with me” “Oh um yeah sure” he nervously laughs.

Dear Y/N I haven't got you out of my mind since the first day we met. I have been wanting to tell you this for so long but scared that your brother will banish me, or you just plain out would like me so here I goes. I really really really I could write so many really and it still would express how much I like you. You are funny, smart, beautiful, and so many more things and I really like you so much so will you give me a chance and go on a date with me? -Eddie M 

“Wow Eddie why didn’t you tell me this before” “I was too scared really” “Well that suck” “Sucks?” “Yeah because if you would have told me before you would have had yourself a girlfriend maybe now if you ask so kindly” “Wait really you like me too” “Duh” “Oh wow in that case Y/N L/N will you please let me, Eddie Munson, take you on a date and have the best night of your night” “ Yes” You make arrangements then kiss him on the cheek. The boys run to their seats as they are here the door closed “What” you look that the boys “Nothing” they say in unison. Oh boy were they going to tease Eddie Monday at school.  

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie x babysitter!reader #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #sugarsfics #new writing blog #first fic #eddie my beloved

[jackiequinzel]

it's a testament to harleen quinzel's parenting that jackie has never been in a situation dire enough to learn how to disguise herself -- but it very well may be her demise. she's sitting in a cafe, a pair of sunglasses on and a newspaper in front of her face, waiting for her mark. see -- she's just got a few questions about her dad. and her mom . . . but she thinks that might be a sore subject, according to her research. ( watching all of @dusktrip's archived twitch streams. yeah. all of them. )

wait, shit. the woman's grabbing her coffee and . . . leaving?! damn it. jackie jumps up, knocking her coffee over as she races after punchline ; it drips, drips, drips onto the floor as the underpaid barista stares after the blonde in horror.

" wait -- wait!! i need to talk to you. "

#srry but i simply felt that alexis needed to feel the pain of having a twenty year old tailing her around everywhere #⸻ did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? — writing. #dusktrip

[mediocre-writerr]

hello!! i'll submit this on behalf of everyone who wants a part 2 of smoke slow. for the medicore 2k party, i'd love a pt 2 of smoke slow with the prompts

"she could be perfect, but the problem is she'll never be you" (somebody's nobody by alexander 23)

"i still love you, i promise" (i miss you, i'm sorry by gracie abrams)

reader has been avoiding wanda and they're both grieving the loss of their relationship. they finally see each other again and talk about it. if you're not up for a happy ending for them just yet (bc they will get a happy ending 😠), maybe a hopeful ending? idk i just need a part 2!!

somebody's nobody [wanda maximoff]

summary: requested by anon, part 2 of smoke slow; you try to keep your distance from wanda, so your older sister could be happy. even though nat is the most perfect girlfriend, the problem is, she's not you

warnings: mentions of panic attack, cigarettes, drinking, angst

pairings: wanda maximoff x fem!reader, natasha romanoff x sister!reader, yelena belova x sister!reader

*not my gif*

It was strange to see the world moving on. 

Wanda lost you. The one thing she never wanted to lose you, even before the two of you had your clandestine meetings, she never wanted to lose her best friend. Now it feels as if all the air in her lungs has been taken away from her. She’s frozen, just for a moment. Frozen in shock. Frozen in loss. Her own mind slowly closing in on her until the only thought left in the air is you. 

Yet, everyone is moving so fast around her. Nat begging her to move in with her, but that also means living with you every second of every day. Your group of friends throwing extravagant parties, yet the smell of your smoke was nowhere to be found. Her professors make her write essays about love and loss, like it’s such an insensitive topic. Did they not feel her heart break and the ground shake as she sobbed when she got home that night? Can they not hear her thoughts screaming out your name? 

Apparently not. 

It’s funny how a simple smile and a fake laugh can win you an Oscar. 

Wanda needed a moment. One night where she could push you and her thoughts about you aside and just live. So, she did what anyone would do, and drowned herself in alcohol. 

Tony’s party was as lively as ever. Wanda went over to the speaker and turned up the music to maximum volume, anything to stop the stubborn thoughts that kept flooding her mind, but no matter how loud the music was it was never enough. So she started dancing around the kitchen by herself, grabbing the bottle of whiskey by the neck, cradling it against her like it was her only lifeline. 

She could still see you. She could see you walking up to her during one of these parties with a bright smile on your face. You’d tell her a dorky pick up line that she pretended to hate, but she couldn’t hate them even if she tried. You would ask her to dance before the two of you snuck up to the balcony, holding each other tightly, like the asteroid was going to hit Earth any second. 

As she was dancing, she could practically feel you. Your arms wrapped around her waist, as you swayed to the music. It reminded her of the time, you’d sneak over to her apartment, and in the mornings while she’d cook breakfast you would dance with her to the soft sounds of her favorite records. What she would do for just one more morning like that. 

“Hey pretty girl, let me just take that from you. I think you’ve had enough for tonight,” Carol’s blonde hair swooped in front of her, stealing the bottle from her hands. But Wanda’s entire body cringed, like she just heard nails digging into a chalkboard.

“Don’t call me that,” she spat, anger fuming in her body. You were the only person who could call her that. Not even Nat does. 

Carol raises her hand in defense, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, I’m not Nat, I know. It’s just a pet name I say to everyone,” Wanda stumbled slightly, as she tried to cross her arms, gripping onto the counter to stay afloat. “Wanda, do you want me to call Nat? She can pick you up. I think you need to call it a night.” 

Wanda shook her head rapidly, fast enough for her to grow dizzy, “No. I’m fine!” 

Before Carol could argue, she stumbled off and away from the crowd. She needed air, that’s what she needed. Something to make her feel like she wasn’t suffocating. The backyard was empty, but she couldn’t seem to get out there. The lights were too bright. The voices were too loud. Her clothes suddenly felt like a small t-shirt that she was struggling to get off.  

“Wanda, what’s wrong?” A familiar voice filled her ears in an echo. One of your other best friends, Gwen Stacy and her boyfriend Peter Parker aka Peter 3, came into her line of sight. The Sokovian tried to speak, but no words came out and she only shook her head. Gwen hesitantly reached her hand out to wipe the tears off her cheeks and she flinched back slightly. 

Wanda’s breathing started elevating as she felt her chest constricting. Peter looked at his girlfriend with furrowed brows and puzzled looks in his eyes. Gwen instantly grabbed Wanda’s hand at the sight of her breathing. The blonde whisking the brunette away to the balcony, your guys’ balcony, upstairs. At the feeling of fresh air, Wanda instantly fell to her knees, sitting against the wall. 

Gwen orders her boyfriend and he nods awkwardly, stumbling and running back into the house. Wanda could barely process the girl’s words due to her ears ringing and her eyes blurry with tears, “It’s okay, Wanda. You’re having a panic attack, but it’s okay. I’m here to help you through it.” The Sokovian’s chest was in pain each time due to her labored breathing and constricted chest. 

Gwen tried to get her to match her breathing and offered her soothing words, but nothing was working. Moments later, Peter came stumbling back with you right behind him. You quickly kneeled down in front of the brunette, offering her a sad smile. Wanda’s breath hitched, not because of her panic attack, but because of the sight of you. 

“Thank you for grabbing me and staying with her. I can take it from here,” you tell the couple and they both nod, giving Wanda a reassuring smile before taking leave. You hesitantly reach out for her hand, not wanting to overwhelm her even more. “I’m here, Wands. I’m right here. Just focus on your breathing, okay?” 

Wanda closed her eyes, the patio lights weren’t hurting her as much as they were before. The loud ringing noises slowly faded away as you quietly butchered one of her favorite Sokovian lullabies. Her beautiful green eyes met yours and you watched as her chest started to even out, “There you go, you’re okay,” you cup her cheeks, wiping all the tears, just like you promised you always would. After a few moments, you help her up to her feet steadily, “Let’s get you home, okay?” 

Before the two of you could leave, she grabbed your wrist gently, “I don’t want to go back to my apartment alone. Can you take me to yours please?” The exhaustion in her voice causes your heart to clench and you just nod before leading her outside. 

There the two of you were again, on the big city streets, sneaking away from a party just like you always used to do. Long gone were the nights where the two of you sang your hearts out to some random songs. Instead it was met with silence and coldness. Wanda noticed how your eyes lingered on her, making sure that you were okay. She swore you ran a red light to look at her, but that was okay. Because Wanda would die to keep your eyes on her. 

The two of you entered your unusually quiet apartment: Natasha was fast asleep after she got home from a long business trip and Yelena went out to some frat party with Kate, Peter, and America. You told Wanda you’d grab her some blankets and pillows for the couch. The two of you agreed that you did not want to bother Nat. 

Your room was drenched in the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke. Empty liquor bottles littered your room and you let out a huff at the sight. This is what you resorted to. You couldn’t go out to parties anymore without the plaguing thought that you’d see her there with your sister, madly in love. So, if that meant turning to old habits, so be it. It was only temporary anyway, the pain will eventually subside and you will be fine. 

Grabbing a couple blankets, your eyes found the makeup stained pillow. They weren’t even yours, they were Wanda’s, from one of your many rendezvous. The two of you just talked about everything: her parents, Pietro, Sokovia. Everything she lost and all you did was hold her tight, while she prayed to whatever God was out there that she wouldn’t lose you too. She didn’t tell you that though. Only tightening her arms around you and finding comfort in your scent. 

You snap back to reality, grabbing a different pillow from your bed and making your way back to her. You saw her back turned to you, staring at the curtainless window. You took the opportunity to study her, your heart leaping into your throat as you stared. “As you can tell,” you spoke up, causing her to flinch back. “Still haven’t gone shades for that window. You know, after you broke it.” 

You tried to lighten the mood, but a sad smile just brushed along her face, “You were the one who suggested dancing with the refrigerator light. You have two left feet, so I don’t even know why you thought that was a good idea,” she quipped back and you smiled back, laying the blankets over the couch. 

The Sokovian lay gently down on the couch, letting out a soft sigh. You took a seat next to her on the floor, “Are you okay, Wanda?” She opened her eyes, the green in them mixed with the red of her crying eyes. She didn’t say anything, just staring at you with a pained look deep in her eyes. You clear your throat, looking away, “I’m gonna get you some water and Advil.” 

When you reach the fridge, you let the cool air of the machine calm your nerves, inhaling a sharp breath. You hated seeing her like this and knowing you were the cause of it. But it was for the best, you knew it was for the best, or at least that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. Sucking in one more breath and wiping away a stray together from your eyes before going back to her. 

Taking a seat back onto the floor, right next to where her head rested, you placed the water on the coffee table. “I don’t know if you want to take them now or later, but here you go,” you whispered. 

“Do you remember that night we were lying in your bed and we were just talking about anything and everything we could think of?” she asked out of nowhere. 

“We had a lot of nights like that, Wands.”

She shook her head, “The night where you told me how you would love me forever. We were curled up in your bed and I remember I tried to argue with you and tell you that you can’t promise that. But all you did was cup my cheeks and whisper it over and over and over again, with kisses in between each phrase until I smiled and told you that I loved you too,” your heart ached at her exhausted voice. “Do you remember? Because I do.” 

Your knees curled up to your chest, “Of course, I remember. But that doesn’t matter because you deserve better than me, you deserve to be with someone as perfect as my sister.” 

“That’s the problem. Natasha is perfect, but she will never be you! You said forever and I almost bought it, Y/N!  But then you go and you break my heart!” she says frantically, trying to keep her voice steady, but it was no use you could hear every crack. 

Your hands find her cheek, cupping it softly as you brush away the stray tears. Your heart drops as you feel her nuzzle into your touch. You closed your eyes tightly, the lump growing bigger in your throat. “I had to, but that doesn’t mean I ever stopped loving you.”

“What do you mean you had to? We were going to face these consequences together, but you backed out like a coward!” she spat and you knew she didn’t mean what she was saying. She was hurting and you deserved it. 

“Yelena found out about us. She scolded me for it and I didn’t want to believe she was right, but she was. Natasha has given everything up for me and I decided to have an affair with her girlfriend. So if Natasha could give up everything for me and Yelena, I could give up my everything,” you whisper, smiling at her sadly. “You are my everything, Wanda Maximoff, and you always will be.” 

She let out a quiet sob, her lips were pursed as she tried hard to stop the trembling. You let go of her cheeks, intertwining your fingers together. “We had a good run, my love, but this was always bound to happen. This is for the best.” 

“If this is for the best, why does it hurt so much?” she cried out. 

Your eyes softened, fighting your own tears, as you pushed away a loose strand of hair from her face. “I don’t know that answer, darling. Maybe one day, we could meet down the line, after all of the time and give an actual try. I don’t know if you’d give me that opportunity again, I know I’ve hurt you. But right now, I am half of myself without you. You are the best thing I have ever had in my life and you had no control over this. Please know that, there’s nothing you did wrong. This is all on me, okay?”

More tears began welling in her eyes, “I miss you,” she said, her voice broken. 

Your chest tightened as you watched her cry silently. Instinctively, you sit beside her on the couch, pulling her into your arms, holding her from behind. Her sobs muffled into your neck as she found safety in you. You press a soft kiss to her head, trying your best to comfort her as much as you can. 

“I am always here for you,” you mutter. She didn’t respond, but she slowly calmed down. Her breathing evening out once more, “I’m right here. Get some rest okay? You’ve had a long night.” 

“Y/N?” her voice was hoarse as she whispered your name. 

“Yes Wands?” 

“I still love you.” 

You sniffled, blinking away the tears in your eyes, “I still love you, pretty girl. I promise.” 

Your sister’s heart dropped, as she hid in the darkness of the hallway. She heard every word. 

#wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff imagines #a mediocre 2k party

[mags-writes]

Sunlight || Part III

Summary: frank offers his shoulder for you to cry on

Series Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical swearing, first time writing x reader, no use of y/n, no beta readers we die like ray nadeem

Pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

PROLOGUE/MASTERLIST || PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV

Three weeks had gone by. Three weeks of you and Frank dancing around each other while trying not to tip off Matt that there was something going on.

But was there? Frank seemed so in control over every fiber of his being that you doubted anything was actually going on. Then there were the days that he got home before Matt. He would stand behind you, towering above you, and give your shoulders a rub with his rough hands. He handled you like glass, like if he moved too suddenly you'd bleed. He'd help you cook dinner and tell you how beautiful his lunch was that afternoon, that the only thing missing was your company. He'd pick up when you started getting a cramp in your hand from cutting up enough vegetables for three people and rub his thumbs in soothing circles to make it go away. Then Matt would walk through the door.

Something was going on. That was for sure, even if you doubted it sometimes.

The first time you saw Matt leave the apartment in the middle of the night, you kept your breathing even and didn't move a muscle. You weren't surprised when Frank's phone woke you up a couple hours later and he left in a hurry as well. The next day when you woke up to Matt with a frozen bag of green beans to his jaw, you scolded him like an older sister. The topic of Daredevil had never come up in your mind until then. You didn't know if it was even him to start off with and if it was then who else knew? Did Foggy and Karen know like back in your dimension? Did Frank?

Matt lied straight through his teeth with a guilt-ridden expression. He fell down the stairs. Allegedly.

Other Matt tried that lie once. Only once. Before you ripped him a new asshole. And it led to you becoming his girl in the chair. It also led you to own your own firearm after some kidnappings put you in the hospital once the bad guys found out Daredevil was running around with an earpiece.

You stopped what you were about to say, Frank rounding the corner after hearing your voice echo through the apartment. You took a deep breath and accepted the gracious gift of hindsight.

"If you're lying to cover up the fact that you got punched by someone-" You were about to start a rant again when Frank chuckled.

"Who'd be cruel enough to punch a blind guy?" He said, coming closer and taking the bag off of Matt's face. "What'd you do? Fall down some stairs again?"

Oh.

Oh, Frank knows. That's why he calls Matt 'Red'.

You willed yourself for the love of god to play it dumb. Like you didn't just put the pieces together. One man before you was blind, but despite being a walking lie detector, he wouldn't be able to see your face. The other, while he admitted to being dense, could read people better than you could ever hope to.

"Whatever," You mumbled, throwing your hands up and going around them both to start your normal routine of making your coffee that had been laid out by Frank and making them lunch. "Bro code, I get it."

"Sweetheart-"

"No, it's fine." You interrupted because if you didn't then you'd fold like a lawn chair. "Have each other's backs. That's what friends are for."

You heard Frank sigh and one of them walk away.

"Hey," Frank said, putting both of his hands on your shoulders and coaxing you to turn around. You put up a little fight, stirring your coffee before Frank put more pressure and you relented with your eyes down. "Hey, hey. Look at me, hm? Look at me."

You huff, snapping your eyes up with a hint of anger.

"He forgets I know what it looks like when he lies." You said.

"Okay, so what do you think happened?" He calmly asked, and you knew exactly what he was doing.

"I don't know!" You brought your hands up in front of you. "But it's the same shit excuse the other Matt gave me every time he showed up with a beaten-up face and a limp."

Frank frowned, probably turning over the question of why Matt hadn't told you his secret.

"When did your Matt become 'other' Matt?" You froze, not expecting that question in the slightest.

You stuttered, stumbling over your words, starting a sentence and breaking off at the first word before shutting your mouth and intently looking at his chest. It wasn't hard, he was tall enough that you fit perfectly under his chin and your head rested against his chest.

You took in a sharp breath. "I don't want to go back." Frank reached out, putting his hands on your biceps, squeezing comfortingly and you brought yours to his chest, scrunching the material of his work shirt in tight fists. "All of you take for granted how safe you are here. You don't get it, I've looked up all the bad guys from my dimension, and nine out of ten times they're not here. I'm safe here."

"What about your Matt?" Frank asked, frowning like he didn't quite get it. "He's like your brother."

You look back at him at that. Matt was in his room, most likely listening in. If you said what you wanted to say then he would hear. You stuttered slightly again, getting frustrated that you couldn't get the words out.

"He doesn't see it that way." You finally got out, avoiding Frank's eyes again and you lowered your voice as tears started to gather. "He's been more Catholic whore than having Catholic guilt these days. He went through Clair and Karen and nothing's been the same since. I turned him down and I thought that we had moved passed it but right when I was brought here he brought up the topic again. I-Frank, I'm not safe there-I don't want-"

You started to cry then, sniffling and fighting off the tears as hard as you could.

"Hey, hey." Frank soothed, putting his hand behind your head and bringing you to his chest, rubbing your back with the other hand. "It's okay, doll. You don't wanna go, you don't have to."

"What if he shows up? What if he comes here and-"

"I won't let him." He squeezed tighter. I won't let him take you from me. "I won't let him make you do anything you don't wanna do."

Frank nearly sighed in relief when he remembered he was supposed to be convincing you that Matt wasn't Daredevil. Your use of 'other Matt' had thrown him so harshly that he couldn't stop his curiosity. He wondered for a moment that if you had been hiding that detail from them all then what was it like with Karen and Foggy?

You pulled back suddenly, wiping at your face and groaning for a second before shaking your head and looking up at him.

"Okay. I'm fine." You said. "Go drink your shit coffee." You started lightly pushing him away. "Go, I've got lunches to make."

Frank took a hold of your hands with a small smile, giving the upside of your palms a kiss each to the scars you refuse to tell him about that sat in the middle. Your face softened at that. A small smile fought its way to your face as he then leaned in to kiss your forehead. You had to quickly turn back to your coffee at the look he gave you, a look that he had been giving you more and more frequently, especially around Matt.

Not long later you finished up their lunches and they were sitting on the couch waiting patiently for you to bring it to them before they left. Just as usual you walked over to Matt first, him reaching out for the container and putting it in his bag then you moved to Frank who did the same. This time Frank stood first, giving you another kiss on the forehead and saying his goodbyes which confused you as Matt was usually the first out the door.

You cast a look down at Matt who by now was twiddling his thumbs as he waited for Frank to leave. Once the door was closed and Frank's heavy steps had faded he stood up.

"I'm sorry about before." He said earnestly, and you knew he was telling the truth. "I didn't mean to stress you out."

"I just-" you cut yourself off, pausing and thinking for a moment, remembering that he had absolutely heard everything you tearfully confessed to Frank. "I don't want you to lie to me."

"And I don't want to lie to you." He came forward, bringing you into a hug that you went into comfortably.

"Does it have something to do with a case?" You asked into his chest. "Are you in danger? Do we need to call the police?"

"I'll explain everything to you tomorrow night." He said as if he had just decided it at that moment. Like he was desperate to make you happy. "I promise."

He kissed the top of your head. Memories of your brother's all doing the same rushing to the surface of your mind. Memories of Matt doing the same when you were growing up. You never told him your brothers did that, never told him what it meant for him to do it. Never told him that other Matt had stopped.

"I'm not going to be coming home tonight." He said, pulling back.

"What?" You frowned harshly and he could hear it in your voice making him wince.

"Tomorrow night, remember?" He put both of his hands on your shoulders to calm you. "I just have to take care of some things tonight and hopefully it'll be sorted by tomorrow."

"And if it's not?"

"Then you'll hear about it." He said with a smile.

"What? On the news?" You said stressed again.

Matt laughed, bending down to pick up his bag.

"Let's hope not." Was his answer.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle fic #frank castle fanfic #the punisher #the punisher x reader #the punisher fic #the punisher fanfic #daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil fanfic

[starsfic]

Hello love your love your fics with goldenlion, peachlion, or sunstone aka Azure x Wukong (I don’t know if the fandom has decided on their ship name yet). But I was hoping you could write a fic where Azure see Wukong get possessed by LBD and has to help in the fight to get him back.

Macaque was going to lose.

He had known it ever since the kid had pleaded with him to help them stop Lady Bone Demon. The kid didn't know this, but Macaque had allowed him his victories in their battles. The first fight, he had still been standing, but he had been tired. The next few, Macaque had been eager to push and pull and had left once he was satisfied. Except for the blown up engine.

They did not talk about the engine.

Sun Wukong was a different story.

Macaque was Wukong's equal, the moon to his sun, his shadow in everything. Subodhi would be given credit for teaching the Monkey King all his powers, but Macaque had helped him hone his powers, and Wukong had taught him back.

Macaque had taught Wukong how to make weapons out of magic. Wukong had taught Macaque how to fight with a staff.

Macaque had taught Wukong how to both focus and spread his power. Wukong had taught Macaque how to shapeshift.

Macaque had taught Wukong how to be the loudest. Wukong had taught Macaque how to be the quietest.

But for all their equal power, Macaque knew that, if push came to shove, the only battle he would lose was when he was fighting Wukong. That prophecy had come true every time they clashed, not even when they fought with weapons, not even when they fought over Wukong's heart.

It was happening right the fuck now, actually.

Macaque hit the ground, somersaulted, and started sprinting. His body ached with pain, begging him to curl up and accept the death wrapped in silver and blue. But he couldn't. He couldn't until the kid got the staff and the dragon girl was freed.

Why the fuck did he go along with this plan again?

A fist slammed down right in front of him before Macaque could think too hard on that. When the dust cleared, the frozen over blue eyes of the possessed Wukong glared up at him. Macaque pushed down the anger at the sight of him in blue and held up his fists. He was tired and running low. Now it was time for good old fisticuffs. "Okay," he said. "Come on, let's do this."

Wukong stared at him as if wondering if he was an idiot, before he moved, slowly. Hands rose and extended sharp claws. Macaque couldn't help a hiss at the sight. Monkeys don't usually have claws like that, but Wukong had grown them out in honor. Another point against him in the battle over Wukong's heart.

Another point to-

"Now, sunlight, please calm down." Before Macaque or Wukong could respond, a burst of power slammed into the monkey. Wukong didn't make a noise as he was thrown back, head over heels, until he landed on his feet.

Macaque didn't look back.

"Last I heard, you were dead." he said instead. He had been gleeful at the news.

"Good behavior," Before Macaque could point out that wasn't really an explanation, Azure leaned on his sword, eyeing Wukong. Macaque was surprised he hadn't lunged at them yet. "I heard my lover was wearing blue, and not the shade I like on him." The words were a nasty sting, just like when Macaque figured out who won the fight, and it certainly wasn't either monkey. "So I came to help."

He pushed it away.

"Good to hear."

Wukong tensed and the battle resumed.

#my writing #Macaque #Sun Wukong #Azure Lion #Lionpeach #not really discussed #just hinted at #LMK #Monkie Kid #LEGO Monkie Kid #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #prompt fill #prompt fic

[aalyssah]

Soft

Pairing: MJF x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst/Fluff!

Word Count: 1,264

Summary: You and Max usually argue 24/7, but when he catches you crying, his emotions change fast.

A/N: First time writing for Max and I made him a big protective softie! Sorry it’s so long! Hope You Enjoy!

MJF was an asshole and everyone knew that.

It didn't matter who you were. Fans, Boss, Family, he didn't care because he was still an asshole and ever since you joined AEW he was no different to you, but worse.

Some may say it's because he is jealous that you're the top woman of the company, but it might be because you almost have the same attitude as him.

Stubborn and ignorant, so when arguing with him, it's fun.

You walked down the hall, going to your boyfriend's locker room. You're currently dating Sammy for almost a year now and you're completely in love with him. He's supported you through everything and you did the same for him.

You struggled to open the door, but once you did you called out for him. "Sammy, I'm here!" You didn't get any response which made you confused. He texted you 10 minutes before you got to the arena that he was in the locker room.

"Babe?" You walked around the corner only to see a sight that would break your heart. Sammy was fucking Tay on the couch. Your mouth was agape as you watched. You were frozen, it was like you couldn't move.

You came out of your trance when Tay noticed you, making Sammy jump off her. "B-baby, it's not what you think!" Your eyes burned as blurriness came to your vision.

The man you loved was having sex with some other girl. "Why! Why would you do this, Sammy?!" You were yelling and you didn't care who heard. You put everything into him, just for him to act like y'all were nothing. It wasn't even a week after your anniversary he did this.

Tay was in the background, rushing to get her clothes. "It's not my fault! Look, we can forget about all of this." You laughed, hearing Sammy trying to reason with you. "What do you mean forget about this? You. Fucked. Another. Women!"

Sammy rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, don't act like you haven't fucked anyone while we were dating. It was probably that MJF guy." You squint your eyes at him. Did he really think you would cheat on him after everything you've both been through.

Sammy just stood there with a smile on his face, seeing how mad you were getting."Are you serious Sammy! I've put everything into this relationship just for you to cheat on me with that bitch." Tay looked offended, but didn't say anything, scared for her own safety. "I would've never cheated on you if you gave me sex! You're always at the gym or messing around with Max, like when I need my dick wet, you're supposed to be here."

You couldn't believe this man and how he was talking about you. You were completely done with him. "Don't ever call me again, don't text me, don't look at me, don't even think about me. We're over!"

You walked away, letting sniffles out your nose and grabbing your bags. "Yeah, run away like you always do.” You heard Sammy call around the corner, following something along the lines, 'Come on Tay, let's get back to what we were doing.'and then moaning from Tay.

You didn't even want to be in the room anymore, so you walked out.

You didn't know where you were going, but you didn't care. All you knew is that you were going far away from that locker room. You sped walked, ignoring all the questions and calls from your friends and staff members. It was until you bumped into something, making you almost fall.

You caught yourself just in time. "Woah, watch where you're going, hothead." You knew exactly who that was from the voice. "Maxwell, I'm not in the mood right now." You avoided Max's eyes, holding your face down.

You tried walking around him, but Max went in the same direction. "Max, I'm not joking." Max only smiled, hearing your voice get louder. There's the fight he was looking for. "Why are you so grumpy? Are you on your period or something?" He joked, laughing.

Your head shot up fast, revealing your face. "I said leave me alone!" You pushed past him rushing out the door. The image of your face couldn't get out of Max's mind. Your bloodshot eyes, red cheeks, with clear lines streaming down your face, the way you winced when you yelled.

So many things were going through his mind. You, out of anyone, were crying? Everyone saw you as a tuff head. The best heel in the company, but friendly backstage and to fans.

Max instantly took off after you, fast as you walked to your car. "Y/n!” Hearing his voice only made you rush faster. You were fumbling with the keys in your pocket. Max actually ran to you, trapping you against your car and his body.

You only held your head down "What's going on? Why are you crying?" You took in his tone. For the first time ever Max was being nice. You waited for your response, while brushing some of your hair back to fully see your face.

You attempted to push him back, but it didn't do much considering how weak your body felt. "Why do you care? You just want to start an argument." Max started shaking his head in denial. "I'm serious, what's wrong?"

You studied his face, looking for anything else, but all you saw was true concern. "Sammy. He cheated on me and-" Max stepped back, in shock. "He cheated on you? With who?" You chuckled thinking about Tay. "Tay Conti." Max looked surprised . "Wow, he really downgraded, instead of upgrading."

You looked at Max confused as to why he was acting nice. "Why did he cheat on you?" You word tears from your face. “Because I was working too hard and messing around with you and he didn't get sex.”

Max only shook his head. “He’s a dumbass. Giving you up because you are working hard, he should be happy because you are the one bringing in all the money.” You agree with him, finally making eye contact. He was having a normal conversation with you for the first time.

“I can’t believe I wasted everything into him, just for him to cheat on me.” More tears came to vision, but before they could fall, Max grabbed you into his chest, engulfing you in a hug. Being in his arms felt so good. Strong, safe, secure, everything Sammy didn’t make you feel.

You held on tight to his jacket, while Max looked shocked. He couldn’t believe himself. He doesn't know why he did this and he doesn’t even know how to comfort you.

His hands ghosted over your body, not touching you. “W-what do I do?” You only pulled him closer to you, burying your face into his chest. “Don’t let me go.” And Max did just that. You both sat there in the parking lot holding each other.

You both heard voices coming only to reveal Dark Order. They froze in place when they saw you tucked into Max’s chest. Max whispered something, threatening them, but all they did was mouth, ‘Softie.’ Before leaving.

Max pulled you back and suggested y’all go to his hotel room for privacy.

That night you both sat in the comfort of his hotel room, talking like y’all were friends. It was almost like you were dating.

Max would never admit it, but when it comes to you, he gets a little soft.

#maxwell jacob friedman #mjf aew #mjf imagine #mjf smut #mjf x reader #mjf fanfiction #aew fluff #aew imagine #wrestling imagines #aew smut