#adam banks x fem reader

[whyareyouhere66]

✭ In the spirit of December/New Years and me rewatching mighty ducks - here’s an Adam x reader fic for y’all 

.·:*¨༺ Adam Banks x Fem! Reader - Lessons on Ice ༻��*:·.

Cw: just fluff, fem reader, 3rd pov, self indulgent, kinda clumsy reader. Loosely edited. I know nothing about ice skating nor it’s terminology 😭

x

The cold breeze is numbing as it flows around Y/n’s uncovered face, biting at her skin. It feeezes her cheeks and sends shivers down her spine as a new draft wafts through the air, the material of her sweater barely protecting the rest of the girl’s arms and torso from the ice rink’s chilly atmosphere. 

In fact, the only warmth in she could find in her fingers comes from his hands, intertwined with hers. 

“Adam- I don’t think-“

“Shh, you got it, trust me.”

Y/n’s legs wobble for the ump-teenth time, and she has very little trust in the ice skates decorating her feet. How are these slim blades supposed to carry her? With her balance? Oh, honey. 

“Babe-“ the girl laughs sheepishly, finding some humor in her obvious lack of skill. Though, some of her giggles are just a weak attempt at covering the flush of anxiety in her stomach- the adrenaline that keeps her muscles stiff, precariously hobbling about in the ice skates. And yet, he’s still so utterly calm- wearing an amused smile, his lack of panic humbling. 

Groups of people skate smoothly around the pair; couples, families, friends, a few people on their own. Although the girl definitely isn’t the only one to be struggling- her cheeks still flush in subtle embarrassment as she stumbles about the slick, scraped up surface- clinging onto Adam for dear life.

The boy wraps his arms around her forearms to offer her more support, “Push with your feet, try and mimic me.” He talks smoothly, his years of hockey knowledge coming to good use. 

Y/n tries to follow his advice- staring at the ground, eyes glued to his skates, taking note of the way he pushes them at an angle, moving his body backwards smoothly. She tries to replicate the stance, angling the skates similarly so she can move- inverting the movements to go forwards instead of backwards. 

Her eyes are stiffly glued to the ground now, observing, learning. Adam watches the way she focuses so intently, and something familiar flutters in the pit of his stomach as a small smile rises to his face.

There’s something endearing, watching how she puts every ounce of effort into moving in tandem with him, learning from his skilled movements. His chapped lips etch small lines of admiration into his rosy cheeks, his blue eyes holding a small glint.

His momentary trance is interrupted, however, when he notices Y/n’s feet more firmly sliding with his- that smile widening to a small grin. 

“There, look- you’re getting it.” He speaks with a hint of pride- which the girl picks up on quickly. With newfound encouragement, she finds the courage to look away from the ground and lift her head up just for a second to look at Adam. He nods, a strand of his chestnut hair falling from its perfectly styled form and across his forehead. 

They slide along the side of the rink the passes by the various decorations, put up to bring in the Christmas spirit. In the middle of the walkway stands a tall tree, ornaments of varying color decorating its long branches, and rainbow lights illuminating the small green spines. Y/n remembers having stopped before its large trunk when they first arrived, wanting to take a second to admire the pretty colors and nostalgic feeling it gave before she was dragged to the uncertainty of the foggy white surface.

The couple makes it a few more feet when he notices her posture to be a bit hunched.

“Straighten up a bit, it’ll help you balance.” He offers his advice casually, to which the girl obeys. She’s a bit unsteady still- but she does adjust slightly, straightening her spine and attempting to lift her chin. The shift in position makes her breath catch- the lingering fear of toppling over again mixed with the nerves flittering up her spine sends a little yelp from her throat. She can feel as the skates slide a little under her- fingers tightening around Adam’s arms, which he obviously notices. Instead of panicking, though, he continues to hold her steady and even slows his own pace a bit, allowing her the quick moment to find some balance. 

Y/n silently thanks the gods above for Adam’s sturdiness and patience, knowing if it were anyone else she would be sprawled out on the cold ground by now. 

Not that she still doesn’t notice the way his mouth perks up in amusement.

“You’re doing good,” he expertly shifts them around as they come up on the curve of the rink’s edge, “better than I thought you would.”

At that, Y/n’s jaw falls agape in mock offense. 

“Uh-“

Adam laughs a bit, “I’m joking, just joking-“

The two have probably done a couple laps or so around the entirety of the rink, progress having had been stumped with the first couple of times Y/n fell on her ass. In the front of her mind, she knows she’ll probably never truly understand how to skate- having the balance of a 3-legged baby hippo- however having Adam as a cane helps a lot, and despite her wobbliness, she is able to fall into a nice rhythm. 

Brushing off his quip, and feeling a bit triumphant, the girl gives a half-suppressed laugh at her small victory. Her feet move like that of a real ice skater, the blades of the skates reflecting in the lights that surround them and she marvels at the swiftness in how the ice gets sliced beneath her feet. Glancing up once more, she catches Adam’s boyish expression staring right back at her, watching intently. 

Their eyes meet, a feeling of joy and lighthearted fun caught in a moment of time. 

Adam’s hands begin to slide from her elbows to her palms, allowing for a looser grip. “Want to try it side by side?”

The sudden challenge has Y/n’s fingers curling around his wrists, wanting to stay stabilized when he suddenly shifts their position. 

“Uh, not sure I’m quite there yet-“ She knows that she’s gotten too comfortable with clinging onto him- the idea of now doing it without him in front of her isn’t looking reassuring. Adam chuckles at her hesitance.

“C’monn, it won’t be too bad. I’ll be holding your hand still.” He tries to persuade the girl, who glances out at the ice and tries to imagine skating without his body as a constant safety net. 

When she turns her head once more, she finds his face suddenly closer, his eyes peering down at her with a genuine glint and a soft, teasing look. 

“I won’t let you fall, promise.”

Y/n’s lips turn into an upside down smile, sighing dramatically. 

“Fine- you better not.”

At her agreement, Adam lights up- nodding triumphantly. 

They begin to round the bend of the rink, and as they glide along the long side, he slowly moves to skate next to her.

At first, her sudden view of the long icy path ahead wracks up her nerves and she clasps Adam’s hand firmly. Her now free hand awkwardly juts out, as she’s unsure what to do with it besides stiffen it and flatten her palm to face the ground, like a penguin. They move slowly, as to not send her flying right away- and there’s an obvious contrast to each other’s statures. Adam glides along smoothly, his free hand hanging comfortably at his side and his legs doing exactly what they’re supposed to do, no hesitance or question behind any of his movements. He’s a natural, a true talent, like a creature thriving in its natural habitat.

“See? Not too bad.” He quips, though Y/n has her eyes trained on the path ahead of her, so he doesn’t get much of an answer back. 

And of course, he jinxes it.

As they come up to the next rounded corner, y/n remembers she doesn’t really know how to shift directions on her own. Quickly overthinking it, her skates lose their previous, somewhat controlled track and she swerves. 

A mumbled curse falling under her breath, she clings onto the nearest and safest thing to her- Adam. 

He’s a bit startled when she begins to stumble, suddenly feeling her hands grabbing at his arms like needy paws, and in a swift second, she’s losing balance and tripping over herself. Her heart surges with adrenaline as she braces herself for impact, already reimagining the hard, cold, slippery surface awaiting. 

Y/n barely has time to shut her eyes, knees buckling as she fails to stand firmly on a slick surface- when she feels her boyfriend’s arms engulf her. 

His long limbs are wrapping around her waist and tugging her into his chest as he naturally swoops in and redirects her fall from the ground and to his welcoming embrace. On instinct, she wraps her arms around his shoulder and scrambles to realign her footing- only to fail immediately. At this point they’re a jumble of Y/n’s quiet, frantic curses and Adam’s muffled struggle. However he once more comes to the rescue as he uses his hands on her waist and back to firmly press her to his body, restricting the frantic movements of her feet and stabilizing the two of them with his own. 

Even after their movements are no longer panicked- Y/n still grasps at Adam’s shoulders, her face buried into the space between his collarbone and his neck. Then she bursts out laughing, face hot and sheepish. 

When the chestnut-haired boy comes to realize that she’s fine and in fact shaking into his chest for good reason, he lets out a breath of relief, and levity. 

“You okay?” He asks, peering down at her, and she just nods- face still hidden. 

He raises his hands to her head, cupping her cheeks to look at her face, “You sure?” He reiterates, although he knows she’s fine. When he finds her embarrassed smile, he chuckles softly. 

“Yuh huh.” She mumbles, though it’s clear she no longer trusts the precarious blades beneath her anymore. Sensing she may want a break, Adam nods along with her little murmur and rubs his thumb down her cheek bone. 

“Want me to buy you some hot chocolate?”

She nods feebly once more- he knows her so well. 

“Yes please…”

With that, he leads her to the small door at the edge of the icy plain, being cautious of the groups they pass by to do so.

The content look on her face when she finally settles onto a cold metal bench, a small cup of the chocolate treat warming her hands, makes it all well worth it. 

[sanakiras]

BOUND BY BLOOD [TEASER]

PAIRING — yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

WORD COUNT — 692 [full fic is 10k+]

SYNOPSIS — in an attempt to escape your past, you join your mother when she moves in with her soon-to-be husband at the other side of the country. the only downside is that your new stepbrother causes you to sink deeper into the rabbit hole you were so desperately trying to leave behind.

TAGS — mentions of death, dark content (stepcest + incestuous undertones), explicit sexual content, mc and jeonghan are two fucked up pervs coming together to maximize their joint slay, additional tags to be added

♪ — ethel cain - family tree,, charli xcx - apple,, ruelle - monsters,, boy harsher - pain,, lana del rey - in my feelings,, unloved - danger,, twin tribes - monolith,, banks - the fall

NOTE — title is not what u think it is i promise. yes i came up with this fic after going through ethel cain’s discography can you tell. do keep in mind that this is just fictional and nothing more than a fantasy, so please (!) skip if the tags make you uncomfortable <3

despite being an adult, your mother’s authority still has a hold on you sometimes.

which is why instead of being in bed all morning like you’d planned, you’re currently in a grand church, seated on a bench in the back of the spacious hall with jeonghan next to you.

your parents were adamant on sitting near the front, but when you were walking into the hall just ten minutes ago, it was jeonghan who took you by your arm so that you and him could sit in the back together, and you’re honestly thankful for it.

with a sigh, you don’t know if you’re talking to yourself, or him. “i have no idea what i’m doing here. i’m not even catholic. pretty sure my mom isn’t, either.”

“no? not a fan of monotonous singing in a cold hall on sunday mornings?”

a scoff escapes you, followed by a sarcastic quip. “such a way with words, brother dearest.”

jeonghan shrugs, as if he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing. “maybe you should pretend to be sick next time our parents want us to tag along. i’ll have no other option but to stay home and take care of you.”

is it so wrong of him to want you all to himself?

“creative.” you mutter with a grin, simultaneously hiding the effect his words have on your body.

he only gives you that mischievous smile, looking at you from the corner of his eye, and you can’t resist the soft chuckles escaping you.

not much later, he’s sitting closer to you, using it as an excuse to whisper in your ear. “me and my dad aren’t catholic either. i’m guessing it’s just about appearances.”

“of course,” you roll your eyes, “maybe they wanna get married here and this is their way of checking it out.”

jeonghan, very selfishly, doesn’t want to think about his father and your mother getting married. he just smiles at you as a way to conceal his true feelings, and all he can think about is that he should’ve met you first, that you should’ve been his.

so he averts his gaze, attempting to focus on whatever the pastor is saying, hoping it’ll take his mind off it.

the preaching is grim and anything but welcoming. words like hell and damnation are thrown around numerous times in a speech that feels almost like it’s spoken in a foreign language, and he hates it — he hates being here.

but perhaps not as much as you do.

“we must and will all pay for our sins, one way or another—” the pastor’s voice rings through your ears. his words keep replaying in your head, and it begins to make you feel dizzy, heavy existential suffering overtaking your chest, like a loud scream being pushed down but fighting to work its way up your throat.

you have to stop thinking about it.

you have to let it go.

jeonghan takes notice of your change in body language. where you were previously hardly moving a muscle, your breathing has become irregular, chest rising and falling more visibly, and you’re digging your nails into the skin of your thigh.

what he’d do to know what’s going on in that head of yours.

he puts his hand just above your knee in an attempt to comfort you, and when you look up at him with almost disturbed eyes, all you find in his gaze is — understanding.

jeonghan doesn’t know what it is you’re hiding from him, but he figures you must’ve done something wrong in your past, if this is your reaction to the speech currently being given.

but he’s done wrong too.

his palm is still resting comfortably on your bare skin, and your shaky hand reaches out for his instinctively; it feels so right. instead of letting you put your hand on top of his, he raises it to hold yours, intertwining your fingers.

when you look at him with corners of your mouth downturned and eyes glossy, your hand clenching his like you need it as much as you need to breathe, he chooses not to give a damn whether your parents choose to get married or not.

he’ll be there for you when you need it — he’ll make you his.

update: full fic is now available here

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[cowgirlcherrie]

georgia canned peaches — ⋆｡°✩ 🐎 cowboy! ellie

pairing: cowboy! hitwoman! ellie x black! fem! reader. wc: 5.0K

synopsis: on the run was Tennessee’s peach, who trades a life of discomfort for security with a Texan stranger

warnings: 18+, MDNI! mommy issues, slight religious trauma if you squint, heavy touching, ellie has an accent, mentions of death and loneliness, heavily inspired by Bones and All ( minus the c*nnibalism and gore), dom! ellie, domestic! ellie, heavy use of petnames (peach, sweetness, sugar, doll), stranger danger lowkk…, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, mentions of weapons, killing, black feminine coded reader, running away, taking care of injuries, injured ellie (so mention of blood, bleeding),

━━━ ♪ peach & georgia by kevin abstract

a/n: heyy everyone!! here's a quick lengthy one-shot for cowboy-ish Ellie! if you enjoy it babis my ask button is open and I'm always accepting requests if you want headcanons, etc, but enjoy!! ⊹˚. ♡⊹˚. ♡

✧˖°.

Mama didn’t raise no bitch! Or a conniving little thief either. 

You tested that theory. Your hands became sticky with anything remotely flashy. Perhaps that was how you found out how to survive on your own. Times like this you wondered where you would be if your mama had just been a perfect Mary Sue. Made dinner, taught you how to wash your clothes and braid your hair, tucked you in at night, and just maybe taught you how to be better than a man. But now you were alone, in the hot Texan heat, and it felt like a smack to the face. Similar to her handprint the night she let you loose and hissed that you are on your own. You didn’t wanna cover the bills anymore or hear her bullcrap about how it was Adam and Eve — not Eve and Eve. You grew tired, and so did your feet that seemed to get you as far as you were now. Perhaps it wasn’t smart to smash your piggy bank taking the $500 dollars you spent bussing tables to go and a messenger duffle that could fit 3 heads. No plan either, which was significantly negligent, but your sticky fingers got you farther than you ever could, and they made sure you were fed. 

That would explain why you were stealing in a gas station grocery. Crouched by the nonperishables stuffing anything and everything into the duffle bag. Georgia peaches, check. Canned pineapple, check. Dried beans and nuts, double-check. You weren’t exactly careful, but the place loomed with unfamiliar faces who certainly were too full of themselves to stop you. So you kept going, a first aid kit for the bruises that were forming on your knees and sewing material to fix the rip in your jacket. Well not your jacket, but your dad's jacket. Brown thick cotton over your shoulders to cover the long dress you were in, it was a smart decision. The jacket kept you warm on the desert nights, and it made home in your hands during the day. The little pockets are perfect for stuffing loads of crap you don’t need. With the crack of another can hitting the floor, it paralleled a shiny brown boot. Drenched in leather and gold detailing as it smacked the tile. Left foot – right foot – left again. Your eyes followed the trail of feet, ignoring the can that rolled away from you as a hand reached down to pick it up. A roughened, bloody, feminine freckled hand. Now the mystery girl was looming over your figure, in an authoritative stance, as if her ego had been bigger than her height itself. But she was also bleeding. Her right arm clenched to her hip as blood seeped between her fingers. 

“Yers’ drop somethin’ peach?” The accent sent a shiver up your spine. It was thick and unfamiliar but maybe the word peach, at the end masked her roughness. You now made eye contact with the girl, green eyes looming into yours as you shakily took the can of peaches.

“M’sorry that was my bad,” you mumbled taking the peaches back and tucking them into your chest. You couldn’t slip it back into your bag now, next thing you know she would yell THIEF! and drag you by your collar to the front counter. But the woman was in such poor shape to do so, her freckled face wincing ever so slightly with every movement her body made. She was a cowgirl, you’ve heard all about them in the papers but didn’t take them for the real deal. Her hat told you all you need to know, brown to match her thick belt and blue bell bottoms. Oh, she was the real deal.

“Could ya be a doll n’ grab me a kit” The woman groaned out, pushing her body weight in front of you. Her standing position contrasted yours that was crouched down, at eye level with the material. “You’s a real catch ya know? Put the peaches back in. I know you were stealin’” This made you freeze. Fuck!Fuck!Fuck! Your brain shouted you were screwed.

Your hands now moved slower reaching for the kit in front of you, and you suddenly realized how overly close the woman was to you. Almost blocking your field of vision from anything to your left. You ignored her statement, as you shakily lifted the first aid kit to her hands. 

“Peach…you are a delight, but now you listen,” The woman didn’t take the kit, “A camera has been pointed at ya for the past 5, and now you got Tina’ at counter watchin’ ya. You are gonna live up to bein’ delightful and pay for this one thing” The woman was scrounging in her pocket and you took the moment of silence to think to yourself, you had barely any money. $500 was something you needed to make stretch.

“What?”

“I don’ take you for a fool, I’m Ellie, and I mean no harm.” Ellie took off her hat placing it over the left side of her chest at her heart, giving you a simple nod before putting the dusted brown hat back on her head. Ellie this time put a stained $10 bill on top of the first aid kit that had been suspended in the air by your hand. This action made you stand up – eye level with this time. Noticed the girl has a height to her, her figure looming over you as you stood.

“Give me the bag [what?] your bag sweetness! we don’t got all day, dammit I’m hurt” Ellie stated bluntly. There was no more time for jokes or stealing any more Georgia canned peaches. There were better things to worry about. Like the fact that you can go to jail for stealing and Ellie who was bleeding out in front of you. You slid your brown bag off your shoulder handing it to Ellie who swung it over her left shoulder. 

“Go see Tina with ‘er blonde hair, act sweet, say your visitin’ family. If they ask, say the Williams Ranch, she’ll give you no hard time” Ellie started as she was giving you instructions, “When ya finish, keep the change, meet me at my car I’ll be outside. You get your bag – I fix my wound, and you get the fuck outta town.” Ellie finished. This time her look was stern, and aggressive as if she was testing you. Testing your loyalty, your honesty, your act. She wanted to see how you worked under pressure, she wanted you to suffocate from fear. All you could do is nod, swallowing harshly, as Ellie turned her body walking down the Isle to your left.

You took the initiative to make your way to ‘Tina’. Ellie was right, the blonde had been suspicious of you. Asked you all the questions that Ellie said she would, but she backed off once you mentioned the Williams Ranch. Handing you the exact change of 0.50 cents and a hospitable smile, saying “Have a great day.” Tina’s defensiveness changed with one simple title. This made you wonder how much authority Ellie had over the place, questions flooding through your brain as you pushed the door and walked out, being met with the setting sun.

The sun was getting low, and there wouldn’t be a motel for another mile out. Sure you could do the walk but you weren’t guaranteed anything. A whistle brought you out of your trance, belonging to Ellie who this time had a toothpick between her cushioned pink lips, as her body leaned against a ran down red car, with muddied wheels. You jogged over this time seeing that your bag was missing from her shoulders rather this time in the passenger seat of her car. 

“Here you go, what you asked.” You pushed the first aid kit into her hands like you’d done back in the store. Ellie mumbled a thank you, as she nibbled on the toothpick. This time, taking the kit and putting it on the hood of the car. 

“Yous’ as quiet as a mouse, but orders ya take well…Peach could you help me patch up, I ensure you a place to stay and food in return – all comfort no lies…” It took you time to think about it. What did people call this…southern hospitality? She was sweet to you despite not really knowing you but the situation was still tit for tat. You do for me, I do for you. Wax on, Wax off. You weren’t gonna say no to a place to crash, where you didn’t have to worry about the faucet being broken or water barely coming out because the bill wasn’t paid. You were certain her bills were paid. 

“Yes, please…uh thank you!” You exclaimed as you began to dig through the box, taking out a bottle of water from your coat pocket, also stolen using it as a hand wash and something to clean the area, temporarily where the wound is. “doncha thank me just yet, you’re just getting started, peach.”

 Ellie was surprisingly still gentle with you, taking her time to crouch into the backseat of the car, while you sat next to her with the kit on the center console. Ellie took her time to untuck the white button-down shirt, as her hands shakily fiddled with the buttons. Due time, her snail speed started to irritate you making you smack her hands away doing it yourself. The exchange was silent, but you preferred it to keep the awkwardness at bay. Ellie shook off her white button down, leaving her in a white tank top — Ellie this time took the initiative to roll the tank top up to right below her boobs allowing you to wince at the large gash on her hip.

“Holy Sh—”

“I wouldn’t say that—”

“Not my first Rodeo” Ellie continued as you poured water on the wound making Ellie grit her teeth. Tilting her head back as whimpers left her mouth at the sudden coldness. All of it was hard to do when you’re in the back of a car trying to patch up a borderline dead woman. But before you could ask any questions, Ellie took the initiative to do it herself. 

“W-Where you headed, whats yer’ story?” Ellie grimaced through the pain as she held her head against the headrest, pants escaping her lips at an alarming rate. “God…I’m sorry,” You hesitated, you couldn’t even answer one simple question, your hands shaking at the blood that was covering your hands as it just wasn’t slowing down.

“Jeez– I hope a lil’ blood don’t scare you peach, I woulda done it myself baby,” Ellie hissed, trying to stay moderately sweet as she was now gripping onto the door handle, her right hand finding its way to your thigh, squeezing for the endless support. That’s when you noticed her tattoo, a death’s-head hawkmoth, and vines. Beautiful, yet chaotic, she had a story. Ellie squeezed again your thigh again making you look back at her. “Eyes up here baby [sorry] where [shit] ya’ from?” You couldn’t lie, the rifle at the back of her car taunting you. If she wanted to kill you she certainly would have done it by now. She wasn’t a threat, and she proved that in the store.

“I’m from Tennessee, I’ve been traveling on foot. I’m runnin’ away” You confessed as Ellie nodded her head in response, Your accent was slight, barely noticeable making more sense in Ellie’s head at why you struck her as different. Your beautiful brown skin glowing under the setting sun, you were a beauty to her. “Figured, how old?” Ellie questioned as you continued to stay frozen, eyes on her face to continue the conversation. “21” Ellie nodded again. 

“Thought so, 22” Ellie responded. There it was again, the tit for tat. 

“You seem like a good girl, far away from home aren’t cha. What’s wrong with yer family? Perhaps your mama?” Ellie tilted her head watching as your face transitioned from bliss and tranquility to fear and panic. She knew she struck a nerve, your mama was the problem. She didn’t wanna pressure you, hell it didn’t matter now. You were on your own, like a scared little lamb that has been deterred from its family. Possibly you were the black sheep, different from the rest. Ellie, once again, didn’t wanna pressure you. 

“You look like you need someone to take care of ya, don’t worry Peach I’ll take care of you” Ellie whispered, her voice all velvety like icing a chocolate cake. Smooth and sweet with care and caress. Ellie was unlike others you’ve met. Or any ex-lover you had. This time you weren’t afraid to let her in or take care of you. Hell you wanted that, you’ve been craving it for all years of your life while you had to do it for others. Maybe it was time someone exchanged the favor. The good karma bell rang in your ears, as a smile tugged at your lips.

“Make sure you cared for, if you let me” Ellie whispered some more, her hands this time traveling to your waist, giving a gentle squeeze, to which you could only hum in response. She was a charmer and knew all the right words to get you sunken in with her. Mama always said to not trust strangers, but why didn’t she feel like one? Her scent was intoxicating all you wanted to do was lean down and sink your pointed fangs into her shoulder, hearing her cry of satisfaction while she continued to call you Peach. Peach…Peach…Peach. You liked that name, no one called you that but considering that's what she handed you when you first spoke, it didn’t run as a surprise. 

Ellie squeezed, “Words, sweetness?”

“Yes” you squeaked, which probably sounded oddly sexual now that you thought about it. Unholy thoughts plague your brain at the sight of the Texas beauty in front of you. Realizing your task still was unfinished you got back to work. Hands working fast as you took your time, threading the suture thread through the needle as it came in contact with the flesh that was Ellie’s loose and separated skin.

Ellie wincing as you dug the needle in, and back out with an exhale. It was a semi-shitty stitching job, but you were able to tightly close the wound and stop the bleeding. Ellie didn’t speak, considering she’d risk completely yelling every curse word and potentially scaring you off, she settled on biting the hem of her tank top instead. Thick black lashes coated with tears at the sudden pain and blood crust. You were gentle though, Ellie caressing your waist as you put down a gauze pad, followed by wrapping it with the gauze roll and securing it with the adhesive tape. Patting to let her know that you were finished. 

“Yer’ such a good girl you know?” Ellie cooed as her hands found their way up to your braids, bringing your head down so she can give a chaste kiss to your head. Right…Right… Southern Hospitality. The feeling almost made you cry. Praise, followed up with affection? Like nothing you have felt before – hell you only thought they did that in movies. Ellie, however, was like a movie. Purley a fever dream, you were scared to fall asleep, what if you imagined the whole thing? You were enjoying your runaway escapades too much for it all to be fake. 

“Let’s get the show on the road,” Ellie gave a smile, making her way out of the back, suggesting that you do the same. So much for not trusting strangers.

✧˖°.

Father, Forgive me for I have sinned… it was blurry 

As we forgive our trespassers…still blurry

Trespassers…clear

You were a trespasser, is what you were getting from Ellie’s narration. Over the 30-minute car ride to her Farmhouse, Ellie explained to you the whole ordeal. Her cowboy hat was on your head as you listened to her tell narration of the cowboys' sealant for the townspeople. Why Tina, at the gas station tried to make you a friend. This Texan desert, farmland was constructed with the passage that cowboys and cowboy decedents protect the townspeople from narcs and trespassers, which in this case you could have been either. Debunked neither. It was one of those towns that people suggest you pass, hell probably inquire why it's still on the fucking map.

Ellie confessed that she was also a trespasser, just like you. Taken in by her late found father Joel who showed her how to run the rodeo. How Millers Ranch, became Williams Ranch. It was impressive, your eyes gleaming with admiration. Then it hit you, why she had the shotgun she did bounties on narcs, drug smugglers, the whole ordeal. People who came in to steal, wreak havoc, and destroy the peace. She was the town's grim reaper. She was the one who knocks. You felt faint, as the realization knocked into you like a brick. Nothing was truly sweet about her, that accent was to mask how with one click she’ll hunt like they were rabbits. You were trapped in her cage.

Upon arriving at her farmhouse which was large enough for more than one, it made you sad to see. She was alone, by herself. No wonder it was easy for her to drag you into her company, human interaction seemed obsolete out here. A dim light shown from what you assumed to be the horse stable, that was rather quiet as the nightfall had put you at ease. You held your jacket to your body tighter at the sudden gust of wind, hearing the weeds brush against each other — almost screaming in the wind. You held tightly onto your bag while Ellie limped past you, with the white button-down rested over one shoulder. Fiddling with the keys in her pocket. 

“Shoes off at the door, watch your step,” Ellie spoke up as she opened the door, you were hit with the sudden aroma, it smelled like fresh wood, pine, and just a hint of freshly baked cookies. It was how you pictured going to visit your grandmothers to be. Warm and welcoming. Complying with her wishes, you took your boots off, leaving you in mix-matched socks with funky designs that you have bought out of quirkiness. Ellie found this amusing. White ones to contrast your colors, the two of you had a lot of differences. But for the lack of similarities came an understanding. A mutual grounding between the two of you. A grey area. Ellie was behind you this time, taking her hat off your head, hooking it onto the wall, your thick jacket as well, and placing it on the hook beneath it. 

“Welcome, home” 

Now that made your stomach curl, you didn’t know what home is, besides yourself and your belongings. Attaching your home to people, not places. It was a wave of worry and fear that hit you. Your feet stuck as it felt like someone took a hammer and nailed your feed to the wooden floors. It was lively and well-decorated for someone that lived alone. Breaking free from your sinking feet you started to observe the living space. There was art, tones of it, stumbling across a photo in the bookcase of a much younger Ellie and an older man with salt and pepper hair who you had presumed to be Joel. The name fit his face well, A small smile creeping up to your face at the closeness of the two. Ellie seemed happy – carefree now that you look at her, that happiness seemed sucked away from her life, she didn’t smile quite like that anymore. Not until you cracked jokes in her car and made her laugh.

“Ya thirsty peach?” Ellie questioned her voice coming out muffled as her figure was far away in the kitchen area, hearing as the refrigerator closed. “I’m good, thank you though.” You put the photo back where you found it, following the trail of her voice. She was very trusting for a stranger, you were already infatuated with the woman, yearning for more. Yearning for her to give you a taste or perhaps a touch. Now you were sitting on her marble countertop, placed there by Ellie as she moved quickly around the kitchen pouring herself a glass of water from the glass pitcher, drowning it all in one go. She wiped the falling water around her mouth with the back of her arm eyeing you in the process, Ellie laughed. You knew her for a short amount of time, but long enough to know that laughter from her was rare – take it as a compliment, you thought. 

Ellie made her way over to you, her hands now on your knees, moving them further apart as she pushed her body in between her legs. Her arms resting on the counter space behind you,  trapping you in her arms.

“Mama didn’t teach you no good...to trust strangers? Oh…Babygirl you’re dangerous” Ellie scolded, laughing as you give the girl a doe-eyed look – your hands finding a  home on her arms. Wrapping your hands around her biceps, as your thumb move up, down, and in a circle. 

“I figured if you were gonna kill me, you already would have done so.” You mumbled as Ellie’s face got a lot closer to yours now. You can see the freckles that decorated her cheeks, her hydrated pink lips from the water she just had, the slit in her eyebrow, and her eyes. The piercing green forest that was her eyes, but it was beautiful, reminded you of the trees that you had seen when you walked. The storm that was your life, before Ellie became your superhero, the knight in shining armor. She saved you, and you owed her big time.

“Bingo! I know you smart peach, and that’s why imma tell you once, listen t’me real good.” Ellie specified, bringing one arm up to grip your chin gently, not allowing you to look anywhere else but herself. Ellie seemed possessive, maybe she lost too many people or her lack of social interaction but she didn’t want to let you go, and you could tell. She needed you just as much as you needed her, a packaged deal.

“You don’ trust nobody that ain’t me.” Ellie began, “Someone’s overly nice to ya’ you tell me. Mean? You fuckin’ tell me. Both don’t fly with me baby, if it ain't from me” Ellie finished, letting go of your jaw to which you nodded. Ellie was a fuckin’ force to be reckoned with, It was like digging into a mystery box, you were unsure of the flavors and layers she had to herself. Hell, she could be manipulating you and you wouldn’t even notice. Hospitality for comfort or comfort for hospitality, it all looked the same.

“Ay Ay, captain!” You playfully military saluted the girl, making Ellie roll her eyes at your statement, you were exceptionally fun. Which Ellie didn’t have anymore...fun. If you classify a night at Typsy Bison as fun then so be it. “You hungry? I can run you a shower before you eat – it’s leftovers if that's alright with yourself?” Ellie questioned and that’s when it hit you, you’ve been traveling afoot all day, and the thought of even having a meal slipped your mind, but you were famished, stomach lightly growling at the mention of the word food.

“I could use food, yeah — as long as there’s no cheese.” You challenge making Ellie back away this time as she took out a glass plate, a fork, and a knife. “No cheese sugar, but something to get you settled – I always have dessert peach if you want that instead?” Now you felt like a kid in a candy store. Dessert was a rarity and boy did it sound delightful right now. Ellie smiled as she watched the way your eyes gleamed at the mention of dessert.

“Got a sweet tooth huh?” Ellie smiled, making you laugh in return. You did have a sweet tooth, anything sweet was enough to bring a smile to your face. That’s why you had a love for canned peaches. The taste reminded you of peach pie that you would get at the diner as you worked a closing shift. Sitting at a booth as you devoured a piece of peach pie, it was heated, like a warm hug in the winter. You cried every time you had a piece. It reminded you of all the good things in life – like how good your mother could be. 

“I hope you have pie” you pleaded, making Ellie nod her head. “You aren’t pressin’ yer luck! I got an apple pie from a good friend of mine, I think you’ll love it – not too sweet, but fillin’” Ellie smirks in satisfaction as she placed one hand on her hip. 

“Let’s run’ya a shower” 

✧˖°.

How were you supposed to explain to Ellie why you were crying? Pajamas that you stored in your bag resting on your body as the matching white tank top and light blue shorts attached to your frame — you just had the best shower you’ve ever had in a while. Not only was the water hot, but it didn’t cut out every five minutes, and the faucet wasn’t leaking, everything was comfortable, perfect. Ellie herself took the time you were in the shower to clean up herself, now in different clothing —  a white t-shirt and plaid pajama pants that clung to her body nicely. The two of you sitting at the dining table as Ellie watched you eat the warmed pie, a tear fell from your eye with swiftness. Ellie’s gentle gaze transitioned into confusion and eventually fear as she watched you cry. 

“Oh god, wait!... I’m sorry” you laughed in between sniffles, taking the back of your hand to rub your face.

“Jeez, I thought I did somethin’ sugar” Ellie exaggerated holding her hand over her heart as if someone pierced an arrow through it. Now it was your turn to reveal your story, like how you cried every time you ate pie, specifically with peaches. It made Ellie give a small grin. Feeling as though she did something right in her life where she wasn’t playing god,  It was wholesome that’s for sure. The redhead found it odd, but it was a sweet moment and she understood it. Ellie’s smile fell when she noticed the clock behind your head striking 10:30pm making her frown. The good times she was having at the moment were coming to an end, for both her and yourself. 

“You go’n watch the tv til your tired, I have some business to take care of before tomorrow” Ellie didn’t wanna scare you, her business was taking the grey cloth, as she wiped down her guns and reloaded them for tomorrow. She didn’t want to give you the wrong impression.  

“Can you watch it with me?” You inquired, ignoring the part where she said she had business. 

“I’m cleaning guns.”

“So? You don’t scare me cowgirl” You wiggled your eyebrows as Ellie snatched the empty plate from your hands, placing it in the sink as she let the sponge soap up to wash the plate clean with hot water.

“Fine. I see you jump – I’m goin’ to another room, I don’t mix business with pleasure” Ellie confessed as she was less focused on you this time. You chose this time to leave the dining area, entering the living room as you hit the squared television's 'ON' button. It was small and run down, similar to the one at your moms before you left. You pulled at the antenna to catch a signal. The static glitching before on came Looney Tunes. You enjoyed the show finding amusement in the animals chasing each other and the crescendo of the music at all the right moments, it was comical and amusing. You spread your body out on the couch, laying on your side as you watched the television in silence, laughing every few minutes at something that you found funny. Ellie walked into the room with a black box and 3 guns in her hand. The redhead gently settled down the weaponry, being careful not to startle you, as she slipped into the seat on the far left — your legs now found a home in her lap, Ellie gently sending a rub at your legs. If someone walked right in, they would assume the two of you were probably married for some years now. 

“This okay?” Ellie whispered as you mumbled a “yes” while your focus was still not on her. Ellie could see that you were getting tired, the way your eyes were low, and your breathing slowed down. You were at peace with yourself and with Ellie, this was one of the times when the silence was okay, a mutual serenity, and understanding — everyone was mindful of each other and it was pure love and bliss.

Ellie eyed your figure as your eyes fluttered shut, this time you were sleeping, fully this time letting yourself melt into the softness of the couch as Ellie reached over to her left to grab the blanket and drape it over your sleeping figure. This was also the time she finally got started on cleaning her guns, knowing that you were relaxed and cared for. Ellie wasn’t sure what she was doing, She felt vulnerable and that was rare, but she was doing what she said she would. Taking care of you, like you were taking care of her. You saved her life, and she saved yours, tit for tat.

Ellie in this moment craved nothing more than your lips on hers, perhaps your teeth to graze her flesh, biting…hard into her – wanting to connect and morph bodies. She craved for your love and your intimacy, she wanted you to love her bones and all. Ellie wanted you to love her past, her insecurities, her mistakes, and her wrongs. You were too good for her, she knew it, but there was nothing a sweet peach like you couldn’t fix. 

[pedrito-friskito]

strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

during - part twelve

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

joel finally gets his head out of his ass, with a little push from tess.

a/n: we have BIG CONVERSATIONS IN THIS HOUSE FAM. i want to reiterate: i love the canon joel x tess. i live for it. but the drama/angst/emotion it has allowed me to create but backpedaling them SLIGHTLY? delish. enjoy babes, please scream at me about the ending 😇

word count: 5.5k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, angst, drinking, lots of emotions, mentions of canon-typical violence and injuries, mentions of death, joel is both an asshole and an Emotional Man, tess and liv are true bffs and god bless last night’s episode for solidifying some of my plans 🤍

✨I do not have a taglist - follow @friskito-library for updates on future chapters/works✨

“You need to talk to her.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, Joel, you—”

“Don’t tell me what I need to fuckin’ do, Tess. Leave it be.”

“Joel—”

“Please.”

+

You’ve been staying at Deanna’s. Two weeks now, since your stint in lockup, since Angie had beat the literal shit out of you. The couch isn’t comfy, and your ribs are still sore, but it’s fine. 

The kids are happy to have you around. Emily especially, once she got past the bruises on your face. You weren’t expecting Henry’s reaction; when you woke up in Deanna’s apartment the next morning, he was sitting vigil beside you, tears on his face, bottom lip jutting out. You told him you fell down the stairs, trying to get a laugh out of him, and he’d just hugged you, buried his face in your chest.

You try to keep things normal, whatever the fuck that means anymore. You take on extra jobs, trying to earn more ration cards for the three living in your apartment. Tess shadows you, follows you around every day, and you tell her your secrets, point out your routes, the soldiers you have dirt on, the ones you know not to fuck with.

“She’s the one that beat you?” she asks one day, jutting her chin towards Angie. You’re standing in the warehouse that serves as the food bank, waiting in line. You’ve had a heartbeat in the bruise on your cheek since you woke up, and standing ten feet from the woman who gave it to you isn’t exactly helping. 

You disguise your nod as a stretch, wincing at the pull on your ribs. Deanna was sure you hadn’t broken any, but you sure as hell were bruised. They didn’t look as bad as your cheek, but the pain was deeper, and seemed intent to linger longer. “Yeah, that’s her.”

Tess sneers in her direction, and you have to stifle your laugh. “Fucking bitch.”

You like Tess. You really like her. She’s a hard ass, but rightfully so, given the history. She hasn’t given you much more of her past, and you’re definitely not about to offer up any of yours, but the friendship between you is quick. You’ve skirted the Joel subject so far, despite the fact that they’re literally sleeping in your bed. Most of your conversations have been about the QZ, the inner workings, your smuggling. You have a job coming up, and Tess has already said she’s coming with you.

“I doubt Joel will be thrilled about that.”

“Joel can fucking shove it.”

She hasn’t been shy about her displeasure towards him, but it hasn’t done much to change things between you. You went down to grab some clothes a few days back, and he’d been the only one inside. Tess was out exploring, and Tommy had gone with her.

He didn’t say a goddamned word.

You’d managed to hold back the tears until you were back in the hallway, but you sobbed so hard you thought you actually were going to crack a rib. And on the other side of the door, you heard the radio flick on, assumedly to drown out your noise.

You nearly put your boot through the wall.

You move up a few places in line, and reach into your pocket, pulling out the ration cards you’ve collected. It’s worked out okay; you had some stashed to begin with and you were able to pull a few jobs after you got back on your feet. But Tess is adamant they’ll pay you back, despite your protests.

“First job I take,” she says to you, jutting her chin towards the stack in your hand, “you get half.”

You shake your head. “I told you, it’s fine.“

“It’s not,” she replies, her tone determined. “It’s the least we can do, after what you did for us. Hell, I should give you back double for putting up with the bullshit Joel’s been throwing at you.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” she repeats, and grabs your arm, turning you towards her slightly. “I’m not fucking okay with this. I need you to get that. He needs to talk to you. You need to talk to him.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me, Tess,” you say, toying with a corner of a ration card. “I have to respect that.”

“And he should give you the same courtesy,” she says as you move up again. “You need to talk this out. He can’t keep putting up brick fucking walls; you deserve more respect than that. You put your ass on the line for us, and got the shit kicked out of you. History or not, he owes you. I’ll lock you two in the same room if I have to.”

“Hah,” you scoff, lifting your brows. “I’m sure he’d love that.” 

She goes quiet as you reach the front of the line, handing over the cards. The woman working the table slides a crate of food across to you a second later, along with two jugs of water that Tess reaches for. It’s not until you’re back outside that she speaks again.

“I want us to be friends,” she says, and the tone in her voice makes you pause, stopping in your tracks. “I like you, Liv; you’re strong as hell. Brave. Best damn smuggler I’ve ever seen. I just…I need you to understand, me and Joel, it’s nothing close to what I had with Nate, or what he had with you. I know that. I get that. We laid out ground rules from square one. It’s a…” She trails off, searching for the right word.

“A comfort,” you provide.

She nods. “Yes. And I…if I had a second chance with Nate? If I walked down this street tomorrow and saw him walking through that fucking gate, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to—” She stops, clamps her hand over her mouth and you almost jump when you see the tears in her eyes.

“Tess.” She blinks hard, waving a hand at you, and in an instant, the badass demeanour has returned, if not doubly so. You continue, “If he’s a comfort to you, I can’t be the person that takes that away. He’s not mine to take. Especially not if he doesn’t want me back. It’s okay. You can’t force his hand in this.”

She eyes you, chewing at her thumbnail before, “Maybe I can.”

You shake your head, hefting the crate of food higher on your hip. “Let’s take this back.”

+

The doorknob jiggles, and Joel’s head snaps up. He’s sat on your couch, some book about woodworking in his hands, a mostly abandoned glass of whiskey on the table in front of him. Tommy’s at the kitchen table, bent over a map, trying to figure out the path they’d taken, all the way back to Austin. “I’m just curious,” he’d said when Joel had asked, his voice almost clipped. Joel hadn’t pushed any further.

The door swings open, revealing you and Tess, a crate of food on your hip, Tess carrying jugs of water. Joel gets to his feet, wanders towards the kitchen, leaning against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. Tommy gets up immediately, takes one of the jugs from Tess. She starts putting stuff away, and you step closer to the table, digging in the pocket of your coat. “Exciting news,” you say, pulling out a key ring with three keys on it, dropping it onto the table. “Moving day.”

“We’re not going far, are we?” Tess asks over her shoulder.

“No,” you reply, pushing a hand through your hair before shucking off your coat. “One floor up, few units down. Besides, you know where to find me.” Joel catches you glance his way, but it’s short-lived, you turning away a moment later to help Tess put the rest of the food away. “I saw they have a posting for a handyman in the building, one for the apartment across the street too,” you say, putting away a box of instant mashed potatoes. “Unit maintenance and stuff like that, thought you boys might be good for it.”

Tommy nods, enthusiastic. “Sounds good to me.” He glances at Joel over his shoulder. “Gotta get started paying you back what we owe you, Liv.”

You wave a hand, and Joel sees Tess give you a pointed look. “Listen, all of you. We’re square, okay? I mean it. I’m just…I’m glad you’re all here. Safe. That’s all that matters to me.”

Joel can’t hold his tongue. “That soldier beat you half to death.”

“Oh, you noticed?” you throw back, and the guilt simmers in his gut. “We’re square,” you repeat, leaning against the kitchen counter, hip cocked, arms crossed over your chest. A mirror of Joel’s stance. “But there’s something I wanted to bring up to the three of you. Tess and I have already talked it over, and I’ve done okay for myself given the circumstance, but I could use you, all three of you.” Your eyes flick from Tommy to Joel and back again, so quick he nearly misses it. “It’s a risk, I won’t lie, but I’ve got dirt on half the soldiers in this QZ. And I know exactly what to give them to keep their mouths shut.” 

“You already know I’m in,” Tess says, bumping her hip into yours. There’s a tiny grin on your face, the bruising along your cheek pinching slightly. “There are still connections from Baltimore we can use. Between the four of us, we could be living like kings, for a change.”

You nod. “Either way, it’s an offer. I trust you all enough that you’ll keep it secret, but if you want in, my door’s always open.” You pause. “But I do want my keys back.”

“I’m game,” Tommy says, leaning back in his chair. “You tell me where and when, Liv, and I’m there.”

“Same,” Tess agrees, “but we’re still paying you back.”

Joel can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Are you out of your damn minds? Both of you?” He stares at Tommy when his brother turns to face him, glances at Tess when she steps forward and plants her hands on the kitchen table. “We just got safe again, and already you want to put that in jeopardy?”

Tess scoffs, and the sound makes Joel blood boil. There’s too much happening. The guilt never leaves, but seeing you, hearing your voice, it makes it that much worse, and Tess looking at him like he’s a fucking idiot doesn’t help matters.

“We pulled a lot of bad shit to stay alive out there, Joel,” she says, her tone stern. “Baltimore was no different. I highly doubt a bit of smuggling is going to fuck with our reputations.”

“Your records are clean,” you offer, your voice placating. It makes the hair on the back of Joel’s neck stand on end. “When Cowan brought you through, he wiped them. Tommy’s is already clean, otherwise they wouldn’t have let him through to start with.” You lift your hands. “It’s just an offer, Joel.”

How have you managed to make his own name feel like a punch to the gut?

“I’ll show you to the apartment,” you say, grabbing the keys off the table, putting a hand on Tess’s shoulder. “You guys can talk it out. There’s no pressure. I’ve got a job in a few days, and—”

“I already told you, I’m going with you,” Tess says, and Joel’s brows raise.

“Tess—”

“Shut up, Joel.” She turns towards the door. “Let’s go.”

You swallow, hard enough that Joel can see your throat bob from where he’s standing. Tess grabs her jacket, gestures at Tommy to do the same, and his brother gets to his feet. You hold open the door, and Joel follows Tess and Tommy out. He tries to catch your eye as he walks past you, but your gaze drops to the floor.

Their unit is one floor up, three down from yours. You unlock the door before handing the keys to Tess, let it swing inwards. It looks about the same as yours, save for the floral wallpaper. It’s a bit bigger, an actual separate bedroom, another bed tucked in one corner, a room divider that’s seen better days blocking it off. He’s surprised, almost, that there’s furniture, even blankets on the beds, and follows his brother inside. Tess wanders, and you hang in the doorway, leaned against the jamb.

“I found some stuff at the donation warehouse,” you say, scratching the back of your neck. “People will leave all kinds of shit down there, stuff they don’t need. The mattresses aren’t great, but I cleaned them best I could, and there’s some clothes too.” Joel turns to look at you, and your eyes move away from his again. “And, if you’re game for smuggling, when knows what else we might find.”

Tommy walks back over to where you’re stood, slings an arm around your neck, pulling you against him. “You’re an angel, Liv. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you reply, leaning your head against Tommy’s chest, and Joel ignores the zip of…is that jealousy surging through his gut? Fuck.

But it turns into guilt just as quick, makes something mean bubble out of his mouth before he can stop it. “You shouldn’t have done this.” He doesn’t look at you, not directly, but from the corner of his eye, sees you balk, flinching slightly.

“Joel,” Tess chides, walking over to the door, pulling you out of Tommy’s grip and into a hug. “We owe you, I mean it.”

Joel watches, as you hug Tess. Your eyes flutter shut, your hands hooked around her shoulders, your brow pinched slightly. God, how many times had this thought crossed his mind? How many times had he wondered if the two of you would get along?

How many times had he dreamt of merely seeing you again?

Yet here he is, fucking it up harder than anyone ever could have imagined.

“I’m gonna go,” you say, jutting a thumb over your shoulder. “Tess, I’ll see you tomorrow?” She nods. “And Tommy, you can ask Sergeant McCoy about the handyman gig. He’s a decent guy.”

Then your eyes turn to Joel. He meets them, looks back at you, feels the guilt so thickly he’s convinced it’s replacing his blood. He thinks he hears you say his name, but then your wrench your eyes from his, disappearing from the doorway. His feet move of their own accord, propelling him towards the door, but he stops short, hands swinging at his sides.

Tommy claps him on the shoulder. “Brother, I love you, but you’re a fucking idiot.” He turns to Tess. “I’m gonna go check on her.”

Tess just nods, and the door shuts a moment later. It’s just the two of them, and Joel can already tells he’s about to be on the receiving end of Tess’s anger.

“Sit, Miller.” She points to the kitchen table. It’s not much different than yours, though there are no maps spread across the surface. “You can’t keep doing this shit.”

“Tess, don’t—”

“No, shut the fuck up,” she cuts him off, her hand flexing in the air. “You’re gonna sit there and you’re gonna listen, you understand? Please.”

Tess doesn’t often say please.

Joel swallows hard. “Fine.”

“You need to go after Liv,” she says, the words blunt, laying her hand flat on the table. “You can’t keep pushing her away and treating her the way that you are. You can’t keep doing this to her.”

“I have to,” he replies, the words quick, half-hearted. An excuse.

“No, you don’t,” Tess throws back, just as quick.

“You—”

“We’re done,” she says, cutting him off again. “You and I. It was just stress relief, right from the beginning. I know that, you know that. Nate was gone and you were there and I…” She shakes her head, lifts her hand to her mouth and bites her knuckle before continuing. “If I had a second chance like this, a second shot, goddamn, I would have dropped you so fast your head would’ve spun.” She actually laughs. Her eyes are big and wet, but no tears fall. “She loves you, Joel, and you love her. I knew it from the second you saw her at the gas station. It’s not—”

“Tess—”

“Listen to me, Joel. If I turned a corner tomorrow and saw Nate right there in front of me, there’s not a force on this whole fucking planet that could keep me from him. So why are you doing this to her? To yourself?”

He goes quiet, for a long moment. Stares down at the table top, digs his nail into the grain of the wood. “You said it yourself, Tess. We did a lot of bad shit out there to stay alive. I’m not…” He shakes his head. “I’m not who she remembers, who she loved before.”

Tess reaches out and grabs his hand, squeezes his fingers tightly. “Joel, the fucking world ended. I didn’t know her before, but I highly doubt that the Liv I know now was the same before the outbreak. We do what we have to, to survive. She put her life on the line for us, without batting a fucking eye. The least you can do is talk to her.”

“I can’t—”

“You can. What do I have to say to get it though your thick fucking skull, Miller? Second chances like this don’t just happen. If I had one, I sure as hell wouldn’t squander it the way you’re so hellbent on doing. So don’t.”

“Tess—”

“Please.”

Tess doesn’t often say please.

Slowly, Joel gets to his feet, and Tess follows suit. He’s not quite sure what to do next, but then she grabs the front of his jacket, hauls him against her, throws her arms around his neck. He hugs her back, mouth pressed to the curve of her shoulder.

“And I don’t wanna hear any more shit about not joining forces with Liv,” Tess says softly. “We’d be fucking fools not to.” She claps him on the shoulder, pulling away. “I’ll see you around, Joel.”

“Bye, Tess.”

The doorknob is cold when he reaches for it, and Tess doesn’t say another word as he steps out into the hall, pulls the door shut. His feet seem to carry him down the hall on their own. He heads down the stairs, faintly hears Tommy’s voice calling after him as he heads down towards the lobby. 

“Joel, where you going?”

It’s still a few hours until curfew, the sky still light, though dark clouds are gathering over the city. The moment he’s out the main door, he’s sprinting, running as fast as his legs will carry him. He’s pushing past people on the street, boots scuffing on the pavement, mumbling apologies when he almost crashes into someone. 

He just keeps going, arms pumping once he’s through the crowds of people trying to get home. He has no idea where he’s going, but he just keeps going, on and on and on until he finds himself standing in the same alleyway you’d lead him and Tess through, when you’d smuggled them inside.

What the fuck is he doing?

The rain starts slow, a few drips pelting his shoulders, the back of his neck. He tips his head back, stares up at the ominous dark clouds, hears the rumble of thunder in the distance. Joel lets his eyes slip closed, hands loose at his sides.

In a flash, it’s a downpour. He’s soaked in a matter of seconds, rainwater seeping through his hair, wetting his scalp. It runs down his cheeks, sneaks beneath the collar of his flannel, gathers in the hollow of his throat.

She loves you, Joel, and you love her. 

Tess is right. He knows she’s right. It didn’t matter how much time had passed, he always knew in the back of his mind that if he found you again, he wouldn’t be able to keep himself away from you. Everything he’s been doing, everything he’s said since you mentioned Sarah, it’s been…survival. Fear, that if he lets himself have you again, he’ll just lose you, like he lost her. That someone or something will take you from him.

Tommy told me. About Sarah. Joel, I’m so sorry, I just—

It hurts. The memory makes panic and fear surge through him, every single time. Makes his heart beat faster, his hands clench into fists, sweat at his hairline. But you don’t know that. How could you? He hasn’t told you, hasn’t let you in, hasn’t done anything but try and stay as far away from you as possible.

He can’t keep doing this. He knows that. When he closes his eyes, he still sees those tears on your face, at the gas station. The bat in your hand, the bravery in your eyes. You weren’t the same person he’d fallen in love with back in Austin. But you’ve survived just as hard as he has, and you lived. You’re alive.

I’ll find you, baby.

He swore to you.

“What the fuck am I doing?” Joel says the words aloud, towards the sky, to the dark clouds still pouring down on him. “Fuck.”

He turns on his heel and sprints back up the alley. The rain isn’t letting it up, pelting his face, soaking his hair further. He pushes his way back through the crowds, takes the same random path he’d just run in reverse, back to the building.

Back to you.

He takes the stairs two at a time, ignoring the way his knees are shouting in protest. He’s out of breath by the time he skids to a stop in front of your door, bangs his fist on the wood. “Liv!”

“It’s open,” he hears you call from the other side, and twists the handle, pushes the door open. You’re sitting at the kitchen table, rubbing at your forehead, a bottle of whiskey not far from reach. Your gaze lifts slowly, but then your entire expression changes when you see him standing there in the doorway. “Joel? What’re you do—”

“I wanna talk to you,” he says, the words coming out in a rush. His heart is hammering in his chest. He steps through the doorway, shuts it behind him. “Please.”

“Why are you wet?” you ask, your eyes narrowing, but then you shake your head, waving your hands. “Doesn’t matter. What…you wanna talk?”

“I do.”

“About what?”

He heaves a breath. “You. Me. Tess, she—”

You lift a hand, your expression turning defeated, and reach for the whiskey. “It’s fine, Joel. I get it. It’s not like I expected you to wait around for me or anything like that, but just for the record, it’s not reason enough to avoid me like the fucking plague.” You take a swig from the bottle, tearing your eyes from his.

“I’m sorry,” he says instantly, and takes a step towards the table. You lower the bottle, slide your gaze back to his. “About all of it, Liv. Please. I just wanna talk you.” 

He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, shakes the water from his fingers. You don’t say anything when he shrugs out of his jacket, hangs it on the hook near the door, settles into the seat across from you. He points towards the whiskey, and you slide it across the table to him. The liquor burns on the way down, but the warmth that follows helps with the chill from the rain.

You lean back slightly in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest, staring him down. “You wanna talk, Miller,” you say, and part of him wonders how much you’ve had to drink already. “Then talk.”

He takes another long swig of the whiskey. The noise the bottle makes as he puts it back down seems to echo through the apartment. “I’ve been an asshole,” he says, his gaze dropping to his lap, “since the gas station. I’ve been trying my goddamn best to push you away, and I just…” He lifts his head, lets one hand rest on the table, an olive branch between you. “I’m sorry.”

“You said that already.”

“Liv, I just…I did some terrible shit out there, to stay alive. I’m not the same. But I know you aren’t either.”

“We all do terrible shit to stay alive, Joel.” You huff a little laugh. “It’s just the way of the world now.” You drag a hand over your face. “Besides, you are the only thing I have left,” you say, and Joel’s heart jumps into his throat, “from before.” You blink hard, and he can see the tears gathering along your lashes. Everything in him wants to vault the table separating you and just hold you. “I was gonna leave Boston. Before they put up the wall, when all that was standing in my way was a fucking chain link fence. I was gonna leave. Then Cowan calls the Austin QZ, asks about my family, and there’s no record of my sister, no record of you, but my parents…”

You trail off, shaking your head, squeezing your eyes shut. You wipe at your cheeks, and lay your hand on the table, inches from his. Joel’s fingers twitch.

“What happened?”

“FEDRA levelled Austin, when it was overrun. My parents were in a shelter, when they dropped the bombs, and no one survived.”

Joel balks. He remembers, that night, the outbreak. He remembers Tommy’s truck barrelling down the road, down the main drag where the hardware store was. He remembers flames pouring out of the storefront, shattered glass and the way the awning had caught fire. He remembers praying to whoever the fuck was even bothering to listen anymore that your family was okay.

“So you stayed.”

You nod, fingers tapping on the table. “I stayed. I got lucky, really. Dean got me good, before I…” You trail off, rubbing at your shoulder. “They were killing anyone who was injured, shooting them point blank in the streets. I just ran, and nearly a week later, when the soldiers stopped me at the fence, I was still me, and Cowan made sure no one saw my injuries, had Deanna treat me. Left a nasty fucking scar.” You squeeze your shoulder, pulling your eyes from Joel’s. “I never stopped wanting to go looking for you, Joel. Not once. I just—”

He shakes his head, flexes his fingers on the tabletop. “It doesn’t matter, Liv. You did what you had to, to stay alive. We all did.” He swallows hard. “When did it happen? With Dean.”

You grab the bottle, turning fully to face him, your other hand still planted inches from his. “Outbreak day. It’s funny, actually, I had just been on the phone, with you, you remember?”

Joel lets himself smile, the conversation rising to the surface of his mind. “We wished each other happy birthday.”

“We did,” you agree, and take a swig. “I just got home, and Dean was…he was just standing there, in the bedroom, staring out the window. He didn’t notice me, not at first.” You shake your head, letting go of the bottle, rubbing your fingers across your forehead. “I shouldn’t have done it, looking back, but I didn’t know, and I…I called his name. He turned, and he looked at me with that…that dead look they have, you know? And then…then he started running at me, and I knew something was wrong. I kept the bat right by the bedroom door, and when he came at me, I just…swung. Until he stopped.”

You grab the bottle again, and Joel flexes his pinky wide, until it grazes yours. Your eyes drop to the table. “You protected yourself, baby.”

It’s like everything in the apartment shifts, as the endearment rolls off his tongue. He doesn’t mean to say it so soon, but everything in him is aching to comfort you, the feeling tenfold after being stuffed down for so long. Why did he put you through this? Why did he put himself through this?

Your eyes are watery when they lift to his again. “I never should have left Austin, Joel,” you say, and slide your hand across the table, settling it on top of his, your palms pressed together. “I never should have left you.”

“I’m here now,” he says, letting his fingers curl around your wrist. His heart races when you do the same. “It doesn’t matter. None of it.”

Your thumb slides across his pulse, and your eyes flutter shut for a moment before they meet his again. There’s fire in your eyes, one he hasn’t seen in a long, long time. “What are we doing here, Joel?”

His brow pinches. “What d’you mean?”

“This is the ultimate second chance,” you say, and he can’t help his chuckle, “and we are royally fucking it up.” He keeps laughing, and you dig your nails into his skin, making him yelp. “It’s not funny, Joel!”

“I know, I know,” he says, his tone going apologetic. “It’s just…you and Tess get on well, don’t you?”

You scoff a little laugh, nodding. “She’s a badass.”

He juts his chin towards you. “So are you.”

“I get it,” you say, pulling your eyes away. Your hand stays where it is. “The two of you, it makes sense. I…I was with Cowan.” You make a face. “Am with Cowan? I don’t know. It’s just…comfort, I guess, but now, it…”

Joel can’t help but bristle slightly. “He’s helped you all these years?”

You nod slowly. “Hasn’t ratted me out, got me out of some pretty deep shit once or twice. But he’s not…” You nail him to the spot with your stare, leaning forward slightly, sliding your hand up his arm until it’s wrapped around his forearm, resting in the crook of his elbow. “He doesn’t come close, Joel. Dean, Cowan, they’re just…” You shake your head. “They’re nothing, compared to you. I could never love anyone else the way I loved you.” You pause, chew your lip. “Love you.”

“Liv—”

“But I won’t get between you and Tess, I promise. I like her, and you and me, it doesn’t—”

“Tess broke things off,” he says, and your eyes go wide. “She was right. I couldn’t keep doing what I was doing, pushing you away, thinking it was easier that way. I don’t want to stay away from you anymore. I can’t stay away from you.”

“So don’t.”

“You just said you and Cowan—”

“It doesn’t fucking matter. None of it matters.”

Joel’s brain stalls, for a moment, seeing the flare in your eyes. He gets up slowly. Your hands move to your lap as he rounds the table, pulls you to your feet. There’s only inches between you, the air turning thick with tension. “Say it again,” he says, his voice hushed, almost a whisper.

You close the distance, stepping into his arms. His hands slip beneath the hem of your sweater, resting on your jean-clad hips, and Joel inhales deeply when your palms slide up his biceps, rest on his shoulders, one hand slipping up the back of his hair, wet curls twisted between your knuckles. 

“Don’t stay away from me,” you murmur, tugging lightly at his hair, until his face is angled with yours. He can smell the whiskey on your breath, see the remains of the bruise on your cheek. He can feel your heartbeat, wild against his own, your chest against his. “Be with me, Joel, please.”

Your voice cracks on the please, and that’s what gets him. The tension snaps, and he can’t hold back anymore.

There’s no hesitancy in it. It feels like he’s kissing you for the very first time all over again — feels like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again. The press of your mouth is hot and wet, a tiny mewl falling from your lips to his as you hold him to you, your fingers tightening in his hair. He kisses your bottom lip, then the top, sinking his teeth into your flesh, pulling more tiny noises from you. God, he’s fucking missed you, so goddamned much.

You chase him when he pulls away, grabbing his lower lip between your teeth, making him groan into your mouth, giving you a hungrier kiss the second time round. He pushes you backwards, your boots tangling with his and suddenly you’re a heap of limbs on the ground. You actually laugh and Joel kisses the sound right out of your mouth, licking his tongue along the seam of your lips.

The motion makes you whimper, adjusting yourself beneath him until your thighs are spread either side of his hips, your boots planted on the ground. Everything in him feels white-hot, and he can’t stop kissing you, making up for lost time, pouring his apologies into his kisses, memorizing the way you feel and taste now.

“Joel,” you gasp out when he slides his hand along your jaw, tilts your head back on the wood floor, noses his way down your throat.

“Yeah, baby?” he murmurs into your skin, inhaling you deeply, kissing at your pulse.

“Take me to bed.”

PREV | NEXT

[jhoneybees]

The Cowboy & The Beekeeper(Chapter 3)

Welcome to chapter 3 :) I'm pretty excited for this one but it is quite a lot so please read at your own risk! Gosh, it's been a while, sorry for not being active😅

Taglist: @hooked-on-elvis @scarlettlight06 @joshuntildawn13 @elvisalltheway101

Characters: 60s!Cowboy!Elvis X Beekeeper!fem!Reader

Warnings/triggers: guns, gunshots, panic attack, people being shot, mentions of Y/n, Elvis' mother getting hurt(imagine Gladys if you want), age regression, slipping into little!space

_____________________________________________

It’s been a few weeks since you insisted on letting Elvis stay and after that moment you had with him in the backyard, seeing those blue eyes and feeling his lips on your skin, you came to the conclusion after thinking for a week that you’ve caught feelings for him. The same with Elvis, spending this time with you made his heart pitter patter, made him think that he’s caught feelings, when you would look at him and whenever your skin might brush along his, Gosh his heart would gasp “She feels so soft…” kicking its feet “She’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen…” You’re both oblivious to each other’s feelings.

And it didn't help that you were secretly admiring each other's features when one is talking and a hand grazing along the grass onto one's hand in the backyard.

“No, rising sun can be a rascal sometimes…gotta watch that horse” he chuckles “Same with Rosemary, gosh she can be so naughty!” you answer with a quiet giggle and a shake of the head. Elvis' grin grows “Both got mischievous pets huh?” he questions with a laugh and a quip of an eyebrow, nodding as a response, you laugh. 

Your eyes interlock with his, a comfortable silence fills the air as your chests rise and fall with slow breaths until a sharp, loud, frightening sound breaks through “What was that?” you slip out, Elvis turning his head around with slightly parted lips “Sounded…like a gun-” another rips through the air, making you flinch. Elvis begins getting himself on his feet, slowly walking towards the side of the house. Peeking his head around the corner, his eyes landing on something far away, moving closer and closer as he breathes, cowboys.

_____________________________________________

After getting on his horse to escape his hometown that was on fire, destroyed. He came to a realization that he couldn’t look at it the same way again, especially after seeing from afar, the leader of the  enemy cowboys shoot his mother in her shoulder to get her to move out of the way of the front door to the bank her family ran for generations. Seeing her gasping for air, weakly reaching her hand out to blindly capture one of the men's legs only for them to yank away. 

Running over to kneel down beside his mother, gently pulling her hand into his. Trying his absolute best to comfort her, to someway take the pain of the bullet in her shoulder away but it only earned a weak smile and a soft, quiet, weak last sentence “I love you Booby” That moment his vision turned red and led to actions that many would regret doing but to him, it was what he had to do. Barging in to meet eye contact with his mother’s murderer, clutching his pistol tightly in his grasp, tears brimming.

BANG

_____________________________________________

Elvis looks at you, who's still sitting on the grass “Get in the house” your eyebrows furrow “What’s the matter?” questioning in a soft tone, Elvis making his way over to you, his Adam’s apple bobbing, he lifts you up from under your arms “I-I’ll explain later, just- just go find somewhere to hide” You eyes widen a little with fear, why do I need to hide? You thought to yourself. Elvis guides you inside through the back door and pushes you by the shoulders into the kitchen then to the living area, his eyes darting around the place as he curses under his breath in annoyance. He thought them cowboys would have lost him miles away, biting his bottom lip.

 “Maybe- Maybe the wardrobe in my room will be alright?” you stutter softly with your voice unsure of what's going on, Elvis nods and drags you to your room, opening the door roughly but making sure to not let the handle hit the wall before he opens the wardrobe to let you climb in. Urgently pushing your dress that was hanging over, under your legs and bringing his thumb and index to lift your chin, bending over to meet your eye level “Stay here, Okay? Don’t go anywhere, don’t make noise, just stay put Kay? Be as quiet as mice…I-I’ll come back to ya just gotta deal with something…Alright honey?” raising his eyebrows with his eyes shining with anxiety. You nod frantically, keeping your eyes on his “A-Alright I’ll stay…B-but what’s happening? What’s gonna happen?” Elvis sighs, he doesn’t want to tell you about his situation quite yet “There’ll be a lot of noise, just cover your ears, darling Okay?” you nod again “Mhm..okay” Elvis gives you a small smile, mumbling a “Good girl” pecking your forehead softly before closing the doors. 

The darkness of the wardrobe fills in your vision, your breath inhaling and exhaling loud in your ears. Elvis didn't really answer your question about what's happening but you won't ponder on that for too long and do what he told you to do, covering your ears.

Suddenly some muffled rustling and shuffling noises from outside catch your attention and you lower your chin closer to your chest. Hoping whatever is going on would end soon. You're scared. Just then when you were thinking of what Elvis could possibly be doing, a loud, threatening gunshot went off. Making you flinch and your toes curl, the slightest whimper emitting your lips. 

Then again another one shot through the sound waves, tears begin to pool in your eyes, you’re not used to guns, shaking your head silently, sending your thoughts into a never ending whirlpool in your head.

What if Elvis got hurt? What if he died! Oh no…what if you die? 

Your breathing picking up at rapid speed and your blacked out vision going blurry.

The ringing in your ears, you thought sounded far away suddenly charging towards your eardrums, not hearing your own quiet whimpers and choked up sobs. You don't know what you're gonna do, of course you're going to listen to Elvis and follow his instructions but the sudden urge to burst out of the wardrobe because of the claustrophobic feeling. Not caring for your own good if you get in direct contact with danger, and an urge to go find Elvis. Your mind rocking itself back and forth in the corner of your skull “We have to find him” your heart drumming “MOVE! HE MIGHT BE DEAD, PLEASE-” the world caving into you, heart strings being tied around all over your body as your mind cries out- 

…

The darkness you think would consume you, turn to light, almost like you’re sitting on a cloud…your body feels lighter.

“Honey?” a warm, familiar, concerned, heaved breathy voice echoing in your ears, you let out another of your distraught sobs.

Your body jolts at the sudden touch, you look up and see those eyes that could bring you to tears, your breath caught in your throat finally pushing itself out “E-Elvis…Elvie-” your hands shaking uncontrollably and your legs jelly, reaching your arms out to grab onto his shoulders and as you try to lift yourself to your feet. You instantly fall to the floor, fortunately Elvis quick to wrap an arm under your arm and behind your back and a hand gripping your thigh to break the fall. 

“Woah, woah… easy there, almost hit your head there” Elvis says in a quiet tone, getting on his knees. Rubbing his hands up and down the sides of your upper arms but then suddenly letting out a huff when you launch onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, digging your face in the crook of his neck, the smell of his manly musk almost lulling you into a dream and your legs curling in. You just wanted to feel small. 

“Hun-” his voice softening, then you feel a pair of arms wrap around you, squeezing lightly.

“I-I-I thought I wost’ you…” you mumble earning the soft, gentle embrace to tighten. “Oh honey… I could never let you lose me…could never let myself lose you” more sobs slithering out of your throat as you buried your face even further into his shoulder, you really did think you lost him, you’ve only known him a month but it feels like you’ve known each other for centuries.

A meow interrupts the silence making you lift your head out of his shoulder slightly to see Rosemary walking in with a few leaves and twigs sticking on her fur and her head lowering to sniff the floor quietly with her ears turned down she must’ve been so scared from the commotion. Slowly untangling yourself from Elvis, you call for your feline. Wrapping your arms around her furry body as she nuzzled her cheeks against your chest, making you giggle. 

Elvis’ muscles relieved themselves seeing your smile and he breathed out through his nose with his smile appearing, his eyes trail down to his pistol discarded on the floor, his smile fades when flashes come back to him, feeling the weight of the gun loaded, pressed up against one of the men, seeing their faces filled with slight fear. Eventually putting it back in his holster when they all get back on their horses, running away.

He couldn’t do it to anyone else.

A sharp and long inhale escapes, he shakes the thoughts out of his head “Darling…” his hand reaching out to lift your chin, the sight of your eyes glistening with soon shedding tears and gleaming with an innocence, almost child-like. His heart thumping again when you smile and lean up, craning your neck up to kiss his cheek.

“I love you daddy” you say with confidence that withered quickly, replaced with panic and confusion. Elvis eyebrows knit together, looking down at you “Y/n?”

[kadentherabbit]

Hi guys!!!! Soo this is my master list, it will be updated as I write more fanfics in the future, I currently write for ahs/evan peters characters, DC characters and possibly Donnie Darko in the near future! Make a request to be on my tag list!

A little more about me I suppose: gay and trans! Please only refer to me with he/him pronouns. I enjoy gory movies or movies with Evan Peter’s in them :3. You can refer to me as Kaden! I love writing, one of my favorite hobbies but it takes me a while to have any motivation so keep that in mind!

Most of my fics will be about men, and in a gender neutral fashion unless I’m requested specifically male reader or female reader! Keep reading for more!!

My CAI.

My JAI.

I will not write fics that include:

Any bodily fluids that aren’t spit, cum or blood (Strict limits).

Age gaps that include one party being under the age of 18 and another party being over the age of 18. (Aka any sort of pedophilia)

Fics that involve childbirth/pregnancy (may change in future).

Incest or stepcest. Platonic family relationships only.

Threesomes or any smut that includes more than 2 people (may change in future)

Smut for any female or AFAB character.

I hate writing angst.

Characters I currently feel comfortable writing for! ⬇️

Peter Maximoff, Tate Langdon, Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Most DC villains, Carl Gallagher, Kai Anderson (May be ooc), Ponyboy Curtis, Two-Bit Mathews, Adam Banks, Kyle Spencer, Tweek Tweak, Wilbur Robinson, Lewis/Cornelius Robinson, Johnny Lawrence.

Characters I need more time with ⬇️

Kit Walker, James Patrick March, Jimmy Darling, Lip Gallagher, Ian Gallagher, Donnie Darko, Luke Cooper, Colin Zabel, Stan Bowes, Guy Germaine, Daniel LaRusso.

(you may suggest these characters! I may just need a little more time to write the fic!)

smut = 𝜗𝜚. fluff =✿. Being worked on = ꩜.

AHS

Tate Langdon NSFW Alphabet 𝜗𝜚

Your fear is my pleasure - Kai Anderson 𝜗𝜚

The only friend you’ll ever need - Tate Langdon 𝜗𝜚 (req)

Kai Anderson fic 𝜗𝜚/꩜

X-MEN

Peter Maximoff NSFW Alphabet 𝜗𝜚 (req kinda)

Stuffed like a Twinkie - Peter Maximoff 𝜗𝜚/✿ (req)

Mean Dom Peter Maximoff 𝜗𝜚

Peter Maximoff and Reader getting high ✿/꩜

DC

Dick Grayson/Nightwing Blabz ✿

Arkham Knight! Jason Todd Blabz ✿ (Fem! Robin reader!)

OTHERS

Ryan Gosling! Ken Blabz ✿

Rodrick Heffley Blabz ✿

Jack Hughes Blabz ✿/𝜗𝜚

Five Hargreeves Blabz ✿

Cobra Kai! Johnny Lawrence blabs ꩜

[cowgurrrl]

Marrow

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (plus platonic!ellie williams x fem!reader)

Author’s note: thanks for being patient!! I made a new graphic for the in-between parts of When You’re Lost in the Darkness/Look for the Light because I wanted to 😌 (PS this is somewhat of rewrite/reimagining of my first fic Everything Leads to You so if there are some similarities, iTS FINE)

Summary: “This was always going to happen. She’s been dead since the beginning.” - Oresteia as translated by Robert Icke aka the beginning of the journey

Warnings: discussions of Tess, reference to Adam, Joel being stubborn, talking to Ellie about mortality, references to a sexual relationship, the horrors of being seen by someone who could break your heart

"Stay here," you say to Ellie after a full ten minutes of waiting. He didn't even say where he was going. He just left without another word and expects you to be there by the time he returns, which is annoying in its own right.

"What? Where are you going?" Ellie asks before you can even take two steps in the direction he left. 

"To find Joel."

"He said to stay here."

"Joel says a lot of things." You roll your eyes. She didn't try arguing with Joel when he left, but here she is, holding you up. She better hope he's just down there fucking around and not in trouble. 

"What am I supposed to do if someone finds me?"

"No one's gonna find us out here."

"But what if they do?" She asks, and you can recognize the anxiety in her voice. She's a lot like Joel, you've noticed. Fierce and short-tempered but with lots of uncertainty brewing just underneath. You soften just enough to crouch in front of her and open your hand.

"You still got your knife?" You ask, and she nods. "Can I show you something?" She hesitates before pulling the knife out of her jacket pocket and placing it in your hand. You see why she likes it so much. It's a good size, sleek, and perfectly balanced. You open the blade and hold the handle firmly. "If they get close enough, jab at soft parts. Eyes, stomach, throat. It might not kill them immediately, but it'll distract them enough for you to run away and get our attention." 

"Same for Infected?"

"Same for Infected," you say. "Runners are just sick people. They have almost all the same weak points."

"Is it hard to kill them when you know they were people once?" She asks, and your mind immediately goes to that Shell station from all those years ago. Against your will, you remember his groans and the look in his eyes as he pushed you away from the last time. You clear your throat and close the blade to hand it back to her. 

"Not when they come after you first," you say. She eyes you carefully like she doesn't believe you, but you stand before she can see right through you. "Stay here. We'll be right back." She doesn't move from her spot as you walk away, but you catch her changing her grip on her knife to copy the way you held it. 

You find Joel on the river bank you and Tess passed more times than you could ever count. The water is clear and running without a care in the world. It would be peaceful if you weren't strategizing on how to have this conversation with Joel. It's necessary, but if you know him (which you do), you know it'll result in a fight. You decide to approach him gently with empty hands and a soft, if not a little pained, smile. He glances in your direction but doesn't acknowledge you as he reaches into the cold water and pulls a smooth rock from the bottom. He adds it to the stack right next to him and stares at it like it's something more sentimental than just a cairn. Maybe it is. He wouldn't tell you if it was. Not now. Not when Tess hasn't even been dead for twenty-four hours. Finally, he stands and turns to look at you.

"How's your hand?" You ask, breaking the unbearable silence between you. He looks between you and his stained, cracked knuckles and shrugs.

"Fine." He says, his voice deep and rough. You step closer to get a better look at his hand and fight the urge to reach for it to press around for the fracture you're positive is swelling under his skin. 

"You don't have to be a hero about it. I can wrap it."

"I said 'm fine," he snaps. You nod and take a step back. You know, from years of diffusing Joel's anger, this is a delicate dance. "Where's Ellie?"

"Right where you left her. I came down here 'cause I wanted to make sure you were alive." 

"You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to," you say. The levity in your voice startles him into looking you in the eyes for the first time since you left the destroyed capitol building. The brown of his eyes feels especially heavy and sad, but you don't flinch. You rarely do with him. "Plus, I wanted to see if we could talk."

"Bout what?" He says like nothing in the past few days has been catastrophic enough to require a conversation. 

"About what you think Bill and Frank are gonna do." 

"Take her to the Fireflies or get someone else to do it."

"And if they say no?"

"They won't."

"How do you know?" You ask, and he rolls his eyes. "Frank's sick, Joel. Really, really sick. He can't just get in a car and take this girl to the Fireflies, and Bill's not gonna leave him."

"How do you know?" He accuses.

"Because I actually talk to them on the radio," you say. "From what he's told me, it sounds like Parkinson's or something. I don't know. I'm not a doctor." 

"Exactly," he agrees with enough tension in his voice to poke at the fiery anger in your belly. "Frank's fine. They'll set him up in the truck and drive her there." 

"What about Raiders? Or Slavers? Or what happens if they run out of gas and can't find more? Frank can't just walk her to Wyoming." 

"Bill'll figure it out." 

"If Tess were that sick-"

"Don't. Don't even start with that." He cuts you off, and you sigh. 

"Is this really how we're gonna do this? Just not talk to each other about anything? Keep our heads in the sand until it's too late?" You ask. "Keep lying to ourselves that everything's normal?"

"You were just fine doin' that not even a week ago." He crosses his arms over his chest and raises his eyebrows at you. You know exactly what he's referring to. It's a tangle of limbs and whispers of so fuckin' pretty, 's like you were made for me, just like that, but you remember. Of fucking course, you remember every time he made you his and left the marks to prove it. Of course, you remember looking at him the next day like absolutely nothing happened, like he didn't fall to his knees in front of you like you were some long-forgotten deity. You and Joel are not people who do long-term relationships, especially not with each other. Still, his comment feels like a jab at the way you got dressed and left not even ten minutes after he came. 

"A week ago, we didn't have a fourteen-year-old to keep alive," you say. He sucks his teeth and looks down at his boots; clearly not a fan of your redirecting. "We're already going west. We might as well just finish this out and get her to the Fireflies. I'll even let you knock a few around if you really want to." 

"'S that supposed to be some kinda incentive?" 

"If finding your brother and doing what Tess asked us to do isn't enough, then yeah," he tenses when you say her name. It hurts to know she's gone. It hurts even more to know she sacrificed herself so you three would have a chance. You'll be damned if you let her death mean nothing. "And if we get to Bill and Frank's, and they won't take her, and you still don't want to do this, I'll take her myself."

"Not a chance." He counters before you can finish your sentence. You fight a smirk, knowing you've got him right where you want him, and he sighs heavily. You know he would never let you do this by yourself. He also knows he can't leave you to go back to yet another empty apartment and wait for him to come back alive or never hear from him again. For all your fighting, secrets, and unspoken agreements, you think there's no one else in this world you know better than Joel. You hope he thinks the same about you. 

"We get to Bill and Frank's, and then we make a decision, but we gotta agree somehow. Fair?" He relents, and you nod. 

"Fair." 

"Anythin' else we need to talk bout?" He asks, looking at you expectantly. Yes, you think. We need to talk about what made you beat the FEDRA soldier to death. We need to talk about Tess. We need to talk about how far we're willing to go to get to Tommy and drop this kid off. We need to talk like real people and not the shells we've been. 

"No," you say. "Nothing else."

"Good," he nods and walks past you, his shoulder brushing yours as he does. "Let's get moving."

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @moonandseatgr-yngf @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @korynnekorynne @anavatazes (please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list/if I missed you!!)

[liliumsabyss]

Had a little look through your character list to see if you wrote for Outer banks, the show isn’t there but at the top of your list it says that characters can be requested it’s just not 100% that you will write for them. If you don’t that’s completely ok I’d be happy for you to use this request for my fav Newt or even switch it up and write it for Spencer Reid because I saw him on the list too.

Anyway here’s the thoughts that have been thunk: Jj Maybank from outer banks (happy for someone else if you don’t write him) with a sleepy boyfriend (reader) who has just woken up and Jj isn’t there with him so he just wanders around until he finds hims and pretty much just falls into his arms for cuddles when he does find him and it’s all cute and fluffy.

I mean this with my whole entire mind body and spirit, you are one of my favourite authors and even though I have no idea who you are I love you and your work. I eat it up every time you write one of my requests and it’s just: ✨❤️🤩🏆 all the time, you know? Thank you for existing and sharing your stories they make my day.

All the love ❤️

Sleepyheads

FEM DNI, I SWEAR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

Spencer Reid x Male Reader

Word Count: 0.7k

Tw: Very brief allusions to medical emergencies such as heart attacks, strokes, and other things along those lines but never outwardly stated just the asking of symptoms, Mentions of Cat Adams and Tobias Hankel, Very Fluffy, Spencers adorable stutter and yes he has a stutter, and Unedited

A/n: Hey! Once again thank you so much for the request! Im sorry this took so long I may or may not have gone down a rabbit hole trying to figure out Jj’s personality from OBX only to fail and ask everyone I know who watches the show including my mother for his personality only for them all to not be very helpful and have to go with one of the other characters you stated. I ended up going with Spencer to shake things up and also I love Spencer so much and with the new criminal minds season having him gone I chose to show him some love. Thank you so much for everything it’s such an honor for someone to think of me as their favorite author and to like my work. Also the day I got this request I had a very poor encounter with someone so this just made my day so much! Thank you so much <3

(Y/n) woke up sleepily blinking his eyes open, reaching to his right lazily when he felt a cold empty spot. He sat up quickly looking around confused in the dark room noticing the vacant right side of the bed. The warm light poured under the doorway from the hall of the apartment. The (h/c) haired male swung his legs off the bed slowly standing up as he rubbed his eyes sleepily stumbling to the door of the bedroom. He opened up the door blinking wildly as the light flooded in, hurting his eyes. (Y/n) walked down the hallway to the end which opened up into the large room that was split between the kitchen, living room, and dinning room, across the rood was a set of glass french doors. Looking through the glass doors one could see a man curled over his desk still adorning his plum colored button up shirt and his dark dark blue almost black tie that hung loosely around his neck. His mop of curly brown hair covered many details of his face including his warm umber colored eyes that stared stressfully at the case files scattered across the desk. (Y/n) staggered his way across the large open room of the apartment he shared with his boyfriend who was in fact the man hunched over the desk lost in his work, Spencer Reid. The (h/c) haired male approached the glass doors knocking gently leaning against them for support, tiredly wrapping his arms around himself. The other male turned his head towards the glass doors staring at the other in surprise. He quickly got up rushing over to the glass doors opening the one his lover was not leaning against.

“ Mh Spence why are you up…” (Y/n) said as he stopped leaning against the doors.

“ I-I had to look more at this case some-something about it doesn’t seem right,” Spencer started rubbing his hand on his forehead before he looked up with his eyebrows pinched.

“ Wait w-why are you u-” 

Spencer began to day but was cut off when the (h/c) haired male collapses towards him catching the other.

“ Woah woah (Y/n)! Are you ok! What’s wrong?! Your pulse seems to be fine. Does your chest hurt? Did you hit your head? Can you put both your hands out and close your eyes for me?” Spencer started to ramble asking various questions related to various medical emergencies. The (h/c) haired male just wrapped his arms tightly around the other snuggling his head into the other male's chest.

“ Spence, I'm fine, can you come to bed please.” (Y/n) said, staring up at Spencer putting on a playful pout. Spencer shook his head, his lips pulling into his wide iconic grin.

“ Ok. Did you know that the human body needs at least se-“ Spencer started to say as the two walked towards their bedroom, his arm around the other's waist. But before the brunette could continue (Y/n) jabbed his elbow into Spencer's side quickly shutting him up understanding the point. The two staggered to their room shutting the white wooden door behind them causing them to be surrounded in dark. The two collapsed on their bed not bothering to climb under the covers. The (h/c) haired male buried his head in the brunette male's chest while Spencer moved his chin on top of the other's head, both holding each other tightly in their arms.

“ I love you Spence…” (Y/n) said drifting off at the warmth that the other radiated.

“ I love you too.” Spencer said, squeezing the other tightly as he closed his eyes. While Spencer often had nightmares due to his occupation and just everything he went through from Cat to Hankel to the victims he was just slightly too late to help even though it wasn’t his fault but with (Y/n) he rarely maybe even never gets them and if he does his lover has always been there by his side after. And so the two drifted off in each others embrace just enjoying the time they had together before the next morning they would each be called to their respective jobs. 

[spaceagebachelormann]

𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔!

HOW TO REQUEST

— state the character, romantic or platonic, the format of the request, and what you want with it

— do you have any specifics for the reader? male, female, blonde, poc, etc?

— requests can be send through inbox or dms, but inbox is heavily encouraged!

— PLEASE ACTUALLY SPECIFY WHAT YOU WANT WITH YOUR REQUEST!! ITS VERY HARD FOT ME TO WRITE SOMETHING THAT JUST SAYS “_____ x reader fluff” WITH NO FURTHER EXPLANATION!! GIVE ME A PLOT LINE!!

WHAT I WILL WRITE:

platonic

romantic

familial

any gender x any gender

headcanons

poly relationships

sensitive topics

x reader

ships (canon or non-canon, so long as it’s not problematic)

i. i WILL write cheating, but not if a character is going it to the reader/another character. i’ll make someone comforting another person after being cheated on, but i won’t write finnick odair cheating on someone

same thing ^^ goes for homophobic, transphobic, ableist topics like that, and. well i guess the same goes for abuse?

WHAT I WONT WRITE:

smut (i’m 14)

yandere

incest

student x teacher

canonically gay character (ex: wylan van eck) x fem!reader for romantic requests

canonically lesbian character x male!reader for romantic requests

songfics (nothing against them, i just don’t know how!!)

things about ocs

ship fics

character list (more to come!)

❍ = easiest characters to write for

bolded — favourite characters to write for

KEEPER OF THE LOST CITIES

❍ sophie foster, ❍ dex dizznee, fitz vacker, ❍ keefe sencen, ❍ biana vacker, ❍ marellla redek, ❍ maruca chebota, tam song, linh song, ❍ wylie endal, ❍ jensi babblos, stina heks

CHRONICLES OF NARNIA

❍ peter pevensie, ❍ edmund pevensie, ❍ susan pevensie, ❍ lucy pevensie, mr tumnus, ❍ caspian, eustace scrubb, jill pole, shasta, aravis

RIORDANVERSE

❍ percy jackson, ❍ annabeth chase, ❍ grover underwood, ❍ jason grace, ❍ piper mclean, ❍ leo valdez, ❍ hazel levesque, ❍ frank zhang, nico di angelo, will solace, reyna arellano, rachel dare, ❍ travis stoll, ❍ connor stoll, thalia grace, magnus chase, ❍ alex fierro, carter kane, sadie kane, lester papadopolous, lavinia asimov

PHANTOM OF THE OPERA

❍ christine daaé, ❍ raoul de chagny, erik destler, ❍ meg giry

p.s. i’ll write for the movie, musical, book and 1990 miniseries versions!!

HARRY POTTER

harry potter, ❍ hermione granger, ❍ ron weasley, ❍ luna lovegood, ❍ neville longbottom, ginny weasley, fred weasley, george weasley, ❍ sirius black, remus lupin, ❍ james potter, ❍ marlene mckinnon, mary macdonald, dorcas meadowes, lily evans

RIDE THE CYCLONE

ocean o’connell rosenberg, ❍ noel gruber, ❍ mischa bachinski, ❍ ricky potts, jane doe, penny lamb, ❍ constance blackwood

SHADOW AND BONE

❍ alina starkov, malyen oretsev, ❍ genya safin, ❍ zoya nazyalensky, david kostyk, erm others i accidentally deleted remind me to update this

SIX OF CROWS

kaz brekker, inej ghafa, ❍ jesper fahey, ❍ wylan van eck, nina zenik, matthias helvar

THE OUTSIDERS

ponyboy curtis, ❍ johnny cade, sodapop curtis, darry curtis, steve randall, ❍ twobit matthews, ❍ dallas winston

THE HUNGER GAMES

katniss everdeen, peeta mellark, ❍ finnick odair, ❍ johanna mason, marvel sanford, clove kentwell, cato hadley, ❍ cinna

IT (2017)

bill denbrough, eddie kaspbrak, richie tozier, ❍ stan uris, beverly marsh, ben hanscom, ❍ mike hanlon

THE SCHOOL FOR GOOD AND EVIL

❍ agatha of woods beyond, ❍ sophie of woods beyond, tedros of camelot, ❍ hort of bloodbrook, ❍ hester of ravenswood, ❍ anadil, ❍ dot, nicola, aric, rhian mistral, rafal mistral, leonora lesso, clarissa dovey

THE LAND OF STORIES

❍ alex bailey, ❍ connor bailey, ❍ red riding hood, ❍ jack, ❍ goldilocks, ❍ bree campbell

SCOOBY DOO

daphne blake, ❍ fred jones, shaggy rogers, velma dinkley

LITTLE WOMEN

❍ jo march, amy march, beth march, meg march, ❍ laurie

A GOOD GIRLS GUIDE TO MURDER

pippa fitz-amobi, ❍ ravi singh, naomi ward, ❍ cara ward, connor reynolds, ❍ jamie reynolds, nat da silva

THE MIGHTY DUCKS

❍ charlie conway, adam banks, ❍ lester averman, guy germaine, ❍ connie moreau, julie gaffney, ❍ ken wu, dean portman, luis mendoza, dwayne robertson, ❍ fulton reed

DRACULA

dracula, ❍ lucy westenra, mina harker, arthur holmwood, ❍ renfield, dr seward, abraham van helsing, ❍ quincey morris

FRANKENSTEIN

victor frankenstein, ❍ adam frankenstein, elizabeth lavenza, justine moritz, ernest frankenstein, henry clerval, the bride

DR JEKYLL AND MR HYDE

henry jekyll, ❍ edward hyde, ❍ richard enfield, gabriel utterson, hastie lanyon, lucy harris

MONSTER HIGH

gotta update this one guys,,,

THE BREAKFAST CLUB

john bender , ❍ claire standish, allison reynolds, brian johnson, andrew clark

THE POWERPUFF GIRLS

❍ blossom utonium, bubbles utonium, buttercup utonium , ❍ brick jojo, boomer jojo, butch jojo

DAVID BOWIE

❍ jareth, thomas jerome newton, david bowie

SWEENEY TODD

❍ sweeney, anthony hope, ❍ mrs lovett, johanna

THE ROSEWOOD CHRONICLES

lottie pumpkin, ellie wolf, ❍ jamie volk, ❍ ollie moreno, ❍ raphael wilcox, ❍ anastacia alcroft leblanc, saskia san martin, lola tomkins, mickey tomkins, binah fae

HAIRSPRAY

❍ corny collins, ❍ seaweed j stubbs, amber von tussle, tracy turnblad, penny pingleton, link larkin

MISC. CHARACTERS

sarah williams, ❍ bernard the elf, ❍ rodrick heffley, ❍ varian

[whyareyouhere66]

Thinking about….

Various! Boyfriend x fem-coded reader

Cw: not really anything. Chubby reader friendly- in fact I sort of imagined it that way. Was thinking about shinsou while I wrote it (and it’s probably obvious). Fluff, modern, 2nd person pov. 

x

Thinking about laying in bed with him one particularly lazy evening, cuddling and watching reels together on your phone. You’re both cozy and tucked against each other’s bodies, his chest to your back, arm hooked lazily over your waist, a few pillows supporting your head while he rests his chin on your shoulder. 

As you scroll mindlessly, he watches from his perch next to your head and laughs at some of the funny videos, fingers fidgeting with the fabric of your shirt softly. And then, you come across one of those “pick an outfit videos”. 

There’s a few dresses photoshopped onto the screen, below them are corresponding accessories, shoes, bags, each with a symbol/letter/number to mark each one. 

You stare at it for a second, in your mind skimming over each of the options to see which you like best. You aren’t really sure though…

The low rumble of a hum comes from your boyfriend’s throat next to you, grabbing your attention.

“D.”

You pause, glancing over at him.

“Huh?”

“D.” He repeats himself, nodding towards the screen. You blush a little as you connect the dots, looking back at the dress he chose. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. ‘S pretty, good color.”

You give a small hum of acknowledgment as you process his words- cheeks a little warm at the sentiment. You weren’t expecting him to give his own answer- but since he did, you can’t say you didn’t find it endearing, the little moment attractive. 

Before you can scroll again, he speaks once more.

“Do another one.”

Your lips curl upwards a little, almost a bit flushed. You didn’t think this would be something he would care about- but nonetheless, you swipe onto the creator’s profile, met with several more videos in the exact same format. Clicking on a random one, you tilt your screen so he can see better. 

He leans in, eyes scanning the screen as he puts an odd amount of thought into it, a certain something soft glimmering in his eyes. As he thinks, you feel his hand slowly caressing your stomach, a warm palm smoothing over your skin gently, affectionately. As if he’s mapping out exactly how the dresses would fit on you, envisioning it in his mind. It’s not an unusual touch, but it could still give you butterflies any day, any where.

“Mmmm. B. With those shoes.” He uses his chin to gesture to the ones he means,  the pair with the “&” symbol right above them. 

“Y’think?” You ask, glancing at the dress and continuing to flush a little at the image of wearing it- at the thought of him imagining it on your figure. 

He nods. “Mhm. I like that color on you,” he tucks his head further into the bend of your shoulder, “…and the fit of it looks nice.” 

You start to smile a little bit, stomach all fuzzy as he speaks. The simple act of being known- of him having a favorite color on you (one of your favorite colors, to say the least), his hands gently running down your stomach and hip, warm cheek pressed close to your neck, makes you feel all warm inside. Beneath the blanket, your free hand rests on top of his forearm that’s slung over your waist.

“Thanks” you mumble softly, smiling at your phone screen as he simply nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. 

“Mhmmm…” he mumbles again- and you can feel his small smile against your skin. 

.

.

P.s:

Whenever you’re watching reels together after that, and those kinds of videos pop up, he again gives his own opinion- thinking over each option and answering with a small quirk of his lips. And you love it almost every time. 

.

.

Characters:  Eijirou Kirishima / HITOSHI SHINSOU / Shoto Todoroki / Denki Kaminari / THEODORE NOTT / Mattheo Riddle / Steve Randle / Dean Portman / Adam Banks / CHARLIE CONWAY / Daichi Sawamura / Keji Akaashi /  more?

[up for interpretation, aka some characters also vaguely match the scenario, but would have their own little behaviors added/emphasized in this type of scene that were not included, but can be imagined.]

[luvrlou]

Spy Deal

Pairing: Charlie Conway x fem!reader

Summary: Coach Orion has a little job for his younger sister.

Warnings: Charlie's anger issues lol

A/N: I think I'll make a part 2 for this.

Word Count: 1.9k

Coach Bombay had heard wonders about you, since he had met Ted Orion, to him you were the best marketer in the Hockey world, of course, Orion was a bit biased considering you were his younger sister. You had controlled advertisements for some of the biggest teams in the USA, even the National team. At your ripe age of sixteen you were really making a name for yourself.

"Y/N!" Your older brother called through to you, for a few years you had been living in Minneapolis with your brother, his wife and your niece, Jen.

You left your bedroom and walked down the wooded corridor to the living room, "yeah what's up?"

"I have a little research job for you, perhaps you could help me learn more about this new team I'm taking on this year," he told you, offering you a seat on the sofa across for him.

You were instantly interested, your work had been quiet ever since the local hockey team had moved on to bigger things, "yeah I would be happy to help, under one condition."

He let out a chuckle, despite being twenty-two years older than you, you always had a price when it came to a bit of help, "okay, okay, you help and I we go on a brother-sister laser tag and sweetie shop run. Just like the old days."

"Oh my god! Yes! We haven't done that since I was like nine!" You grinned, reminiscing about your ninth birthday where your parents both had meetings all day so Ted took you out.

He smiled softly before continuing, "I have a new team coming via scholarships, they like to call themselves the Ducks, they won the Junior Goodwill Games last season."

"I'll be through with whatever I find later, then it's shooting time buddy!" You chuckled, standing up.

"Whatever you say baby sister," he mocked, drawing his attention back to his television as you left the room.

You quickly ran back to your room and flung yourself into your office chair and turned on your computer, after a few minutes your home screen appeared. You hummed a little tune as you opened up the internet.

"I'm sure there will be some newspaper files about them," you spoke to yourself, finding the local Minneapolis news paper. Despite the world wide web being a new phenomenon the archives were easy to access.

You slowly grew more intrigued as stories of this so-called 'wonder team' popped up, you filtered the site to only show clippings that contained the words 'ice hockey', 'ducks' and 'Bombay', their coach and a close friend of your brothers.

More and more clippings came up, this team were incredible, you had noticed that they had 4 'star' players, Captain Charlie Conway, Adam Banks and the Bash Brother, Fulton Reed and Dean Portman. They had even beaten Iceland's team, which was coached by the Wolf, a well-respected genius in the hockey world.

• • •

Bombay felt much more at ease knowing his beloved team would be passed onto the great Ted Orion, and after learning of your work in the hockey industry, he was thrilled that the ducks could gain even more attraction.

However, the Ducks were not too fond of their new coach, he had stripped Charlie of his captaincy and had taken away the team's spirit. They were no longer the ducks, they were Eden Hall's JV team.

"They hate me it's impossible to work with!" Ted groaned as you were all sat around the dinner table, knees deep in yet another of his rants.

Jen, who always tried to see the best in a situation spoke, "who knows, they might just be scared of you?"

"Darling, I don't think so," he smiled almost sadly.

"How about this, I can come with you to practise sit at the side and see if I can get some information off of them, I'll try to see why they haven't taken a liken to you." You suggested, Ted seemed to enjoy this suggestion as he nodded slightly.

"Are you sure they would talk to you?" Your sister-and-law asked, "I mean you are the younger sister of their coach."

"Well I am the same age as most of them, they might feel like they could say something." You answer, hoping you were right.

• • •

"Gather round team," your brother called, before growing impatient, "god gave you legs for a reason, use them!"

They all grumbled while they skated over, stopping in a messy semi-circle around you and him, peculiar looks on their faces.

"You may be wondering who this is-" Orion began before getting cut off by a tall looking boy with brown hair.

"Y'all that's Y/N! That girl who made that team in Chicago mega-famous!" He shouted.

"The team can't be that famous if you don't know the name, Dwayne," another boy quipped back, this one had off-black hair and was shorter than this Dwayne character.

"Yes Dwayne, this is the Y/n and she is my younger sister, she's just here to supervise the game. She finally decided that lying in her bed all day fawning over Michael J Fox in Back to the Future wasn't being productive." He introduced you, his last comment making you shake your head and flush.

They all exchanged looks, before yet another boy, this time you recognised as Charlie Conway, spoke up, "What age is she, shouldn't she be a bit older if she's your sister?"

"I'm sixteen, our mum had him quite young," you clarified. "Okay Ted, I'm going to go sit down." The team's uproar started again after hearing that their new coach's name is Ted. You laughed, something so normal was causing quite the stir.

The practice wasn't anything interesting, just some drills and a mock game to finish. You were brought out of the trance, that you had caught yourself in when the sound of skates dragging to a halt in front of you.

It was girl who had a long plait in going down her back, "Hi, I'm Connie!"

"Y/N, it's lovely to meet you," you smiled.

She smiled back before pondering her next question, "does coach Orion always act grumpy?"

You laughed slightly, "no, don't worry, he does really want to see you all succeed but he just doesn't know how to get around it."

"Well he doesn't act like it, look!" Connie gestured to the rest of the team, who were all shooting at Goldberg as Orion barked out orders. That's when you noticed that one of the players who had played with them since the PeeWees wasn't there.

"Connie, is there not meant to be another boy, he's blonde, wears number ninety-nine?" You inquired, looking back at the girl.

She smiled slightly, "awe yeah, Banks, he plays for Varsity now." She spoke, almost proud of her ex-teammate. "Well, I better get back to practising, we need to speak again Y/N!"

You grinned, "definitely!"

the girl skated away, lapping around some of the other players, then shooting a puck past Goldberg into the net.

When practise finished Ted approached you, "so did you speak to anyone?"

"Only Connie, she's super nice, but she thinks you're dead grumpy." You answered, this made him frown slightly.

"I know this is a lot to ask, but do you think you could find Conway and try to talk to him?" He asked, a glint of pleading in his eyes.

You smiled, "yeah I'll speak to him, just because I love you so very much," you teased lightly, which caused him to gently slap the back of your head.

"You're a cheeky prick," he laughed, helping you up.

"That's what you get for having a sixteen-year-old sister when you're thirty!" You grinned back, walking off the ice with your beloved older brother.

• • •

You spotted the brunette boy in the distance walking out of Eden Hall, quickly, you jogged after him.

"Charlie!" You called out, which made him turn around.

He grimaced when he saw you fast approaching, "what do you want?"

"I just want to talk, you seemed kind of," you hummed. You tried to think of a way to make this sound like you weren't being bitchy, "agitated, earlier."

He huffed slightly, "Obviously, have you seen my coach!"

"Hey! Let's remember that's my brother!" You faked annoyance before laughing.

This made him smile, "Fine we can talk, under one condition."

"Woah there Conway, take me out for dinner then we can see where it goes!" You joked, making him flush under the blinding sun.

He shook his head sheepishly, "no! Not like that, I meant to buy me ice cream!" He scrambled out, "if you buy me ice cream, I'll talk to you about anything you want."

You pondered his requirement, "are you asking me on a date Conway?"

"It's a get-together, not a date! Don't be so silly!" He groaned.

You chuckled at his comment, "come on!" You cheered, beckoning him to follow you towards the seafront. Where an ice cream truck would roll on by tweeting out a chirpy tune at exactly ten past five every evening.

The pair of you reached the boardwalk next to the swirling sea just in time to hear the merry tune which signified it was ice cream time. Charlie immediately sped-walked over to where the truck would park and scowled at you as you slowly traipsed over.

"Okay, number ninety-six what are you for having?" You quipped looking up at the boy.

"Two scoops, chocolate orange and vanilla," he answered back after studying the array of flavours intently.

You only smiled at him before going up to the window, "a two scoop cone of chocolate orange and vanilla," you hummed, "and a rocket ice lolly for me."

"That'll be four dollars and fifty cents, doll," the woman in the truck said, handing Charlie both of the sweet treats while you reached for a five-dollar note then slid it over to her.

"Thank you!" You grinned, taking your ice lolly from Charlie.

"Since we never introduced ourselves directly to each other," you spoke before tasting your lolly. "I'm Y/N Orion, I'm sixteen and I grew up in Tampa."

Charlie gave you an odd look before reluctantly speaking, "I'm Charlie Conway, ex-captain of the Ducks and the USA team and I'm also sixteen. Oh and I'm from Minneapolis."

"Lovely to meet you, Charlie Conway!" You smiled towards him, a smile which he returned apprehensivley.

You grabbed his free hand and pulled him towards a free bench and sat down, indicating him to sit down next to you.

"So, Y/N what brings you to Eden Hall?" He asked.

"Well I don't go to school there but Ted just wondered if I could help him gain some information on the players." You explained, Charlie didn't seem to be fond of this answer.

"So you're only here right now with me for some sort of spy deal?" He accused, anger radiating off of him.

"No! Of course not, he just wanted to know how to get you guys working as a team!" You defended, hoping this answer would calm him down.

He scoffed, "well excuse me, we are a team, the ducks, it's just Orion is not a part of it!"

"Come on Charlie! He just wants whats best for you!" you pleaded.

He huffed again and silently got up and stormed away, you quickly followed him, "Charlie, he doesn't mean anything bad!"

•••

You trudged back into the Orion household, swiftly going to your room and slamming the door.

"Y/N you good?" Ted shouted over towards your room, there was a lengthy silence that followed which made him enter your room.

"Charlie hates me!"

[edgessunflower]

Masterlist 50

[lovingmymans]

Victim of Circumstance : An Adam Banks x Fem!Reader story

Chapter One : The Pilot

Pairings : No romantic pairings.

Word Count : 3.4K

Warnings : Explicit Language, hints of Mommy Issues, Inappropriate Nickname, Slight Angst, Sibling shenanigans, Drama

Summary : You played hard, knocked opponents down, and won the hockey game. But coach had news for you and your twin brother, Dean.

A/N : First chapter so excited. It starts of slow since it’s mainly an introduction to some characters and their dynamics. Hope y’all like it, excuse the mistakes if there's some and thanks for reading :)

You hated the person who decided having a game in the morning was a good idea. Now, you are being slapped awake by the bright sunlight shining through the blinds and curtains and your alarm blasting its annoying sound right in your ear.

You groan tiredly and with eyes still closed, you slam your fist on top of the digital clock and turn away from the sunlight. You sigh in relief and slowly go back to sleep.

It doesn’t last long.

“Rise and shine, sleepy head!” Your younger brother, Dean, shouts at the top of his lungs as he opens the door and bangs on it.

Your relaxed expression scrunches up and a scowl forms on your lips. You groan and quickly cover your head and ears with your pillow, desperately hanging onto the last bit of sleep that is slipping through your fingers.

But Dean pulls it from your reach.

He climbs on to your bed and begins jumping. “Get your lazy ass up! It’s game day baby.”

“If you don’t get off my bed, I’m beating your ass.” Your voice comes out muffled through the pillow but it’s loud enough for Dean to hear.

Dean laughs and snatches the pillow from you. “Don’t make me laugh. You might be older but I got more muscles. I can take you down in a matter of-”

You jump at him, arm around his shoulders and hand on the back of his head, and tackle him to the floor. The air is knocked out of Dean as he lands on his back and you take the chance to flip him over and twist his arm back just enough for it to sting.

“What the-“ Dean wheezes and side eyes you with wide eyes. “That’s fucking cheating.”

“Don’t be a sore loser.” You smirk and tilt your head enough for him to see it. “Ain’t my fault those muscles are just for show and your dumbass decided to wake me up like that.”

Dean struggles against your hold but the awkward position makes it hard for him to break free without you hurting his arm. “Imma get you. Just you wait.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh. “Don’t make me laugh. ‘Imma get you’, ah. I’m real scared, D.”

You shake your head and let go of his arm. Dean scoffs and pushes you off him before rubbing his shoulder. You chuckle but then your expression softens when you see his expression.

You know you didn’t seriously hurt him but seeing him look hurt makes something inside you burn.

You sigh and pat the hand that lays on his shoulder. “Move it and it’ll be alright, D.”

Dean does what you say, moving his arm in a circular motion and making sure it focuses on the shoulder. When his expression relaxes, you gently smack his arm and begin walking out your room but stop.

A grin forms on your lips and you glance back at Dean still sitting on the floor.

“One more thing.” Dean looks at you with an innocent look and it makes your grin grow. “Get your lazy ass up! It’s game day, baby!”

Dean cusses and stumbles to his feet and you immediately start running. He sprints towards you, trying to get you but you make to the bathroom and close the door on his face while laughing.

Since it’s game day, you just put on a muscle shirt, your leather jacket, a pair of loose fitted pants, and your black boots. You put on some bracelets, joining the one you already had on, and ruffle your hair.

You make your way downstairs, your boots making soft thuds as you do so, when the smell of fresh waffles hits your nostrils and it makes you smile.

You walk to the kitchen and find Mom finishing up breakfast while Dean sits in the kitchen island, eating a plate of waffles with various toppings.

“Took you long enough.” Dean jokes with a mouthful of waffles as he looks at you. “How long does it take you to look like a failed Joan Jett?”

“The same time it takes for you to look like a wanna-be Guns N’ Roses member.” You flick his forehead as you walk past him. He scoffs and continues eating his waffles without another word.

You grab a plate and slowly approach Mom as she sets the last waffles on the big plate in the middle of the kitchen island. You steal glances at her, waiting for her to acknowledge you but she doesn’t.

Like always.

“Morning, Ma.” You mumble as you put waffles on your plate.

It takes her a few seconds to acknowledge you and when she does, you can see the way the light dims in her eyes when they focus on you and the way the corners of her mouth twitch as she forces them to turn upward. Your name comes out forced, almost foreign as she returns the greeting.

It’s the best Mom can give you and for now, it will do.

The corner of your lips twitch upward, showing a small smile for a second before disapearing. No words are exchange as you go take a seat next to Dean. He’d been watching the whole interaction and it’s evident on his face that he feels bad for the both of you but he doesn’t say a word.

It’s silent as you and Dean eat your waffles. A minute later, Dad’s voice fills the air as he shouts for you and Dean.

“We’re in here, Dad.” Dean tells him as you keep eating.

Dad walks into the kitchen a second later wearing a suit a size bigger, but it looks good, and hair that looks like he’s been running his hands through it. When he sees you and Dean, his shoulders slump.

“What’s up with the long face, Dad?” You smirk at your lame joke.

“Do you know what time it is?”

You and Dean share a glance and shrug.

”It's time you two get in the car cause we got…” Dad checks his watch and his expression drops. “Shit, if we don’t leave now, your coach is gonna get on my ass.”

You and Dean both cuss. You take one last bite out of your waffle and drink some orange juice while Dean stuffs his last one in his mouth and gulps it down with some orange juice that spills all over him and the floor.

“Really, Honey?” Mom looks at Dad with disbelief. “Language.”

Dad’s face scrunches up in apology and he quickly gives her a kiss on the cheek. “I’m sorry honey but we really got to leave.” He then looks at you and Dean and snaps his fingers. “Come on, let’s go.”

“We’re going.” You pull Dean by the back of his shirt and both of you run to get your hockey bags and meet Dad in the car.

”Come on, Dad.” You smack the dashboard. “We’re gonna be late.”

Dad shakes his head and smiles as he pulls out of the driveway. “Oh, now you want to rush.”

You and Dean are the last ones to arrive to the locker room but you don’t care and get into gear.

Your jacket comes off first then the bracelets except for the one that has a silver chain. You leave your muscle shirt on and change into the compressed pants you keep in your bag then put the gear on.

Lastly, before putting on your helmet, you tie a white bandana around your head to keep your hair out of your face since that shag haircut you have doesn’t do well with braids. It matches Dean’s black one he uses to keep his curl hair out of his face.

The team soon gets on the ice for practice and the coach has everyone do drills and scrimmages. At the end, coach goes over some plays before letting everyone rest before the game.

You sit in the corner of the locker room with eyes closed and humming one of your favorite songs as you block out the team’s voices as they talk and joke around. The only voice you acknowledge is Dean’s as he loudly hypes the team up.

“Alright, everyone.” The team’s coach announces as he walks into the locker room and everyone quiets down. “Time to go out.”

One by one everyone walks out of the locker room with you being the last one behind Dean. The noise from the arena grows louder and louder the closer you get until it’s all you hear as you enter the ice.

The team starts practicing on one side of the rink while the opposing team is on the other side. You’re practicing shooting and get one in when you hear the familiar voice of Dad’s. You glance towards the audience and instantly find him and Mom.

Dad cheers and shakes the sign he holds with your name and number while Mom has one with Dean’s.

You smile underneath your helmet and casually wave at them. Dean notices and skates next to you and yells at your parents with a wide grin.

You shake your head and scan the rest of the audience. It’s not a big crowd but it’s enough to fill half of the stands on both sides of the small arena. Then, your focus lands on the middle of the stands where a man sits, looking at you and Dean.

You pat Dean’s side as you keep your eyes on the man. “Moe’s here.”

“Lester?” Dean looks to where you’re facing and he frowns. “This the third game he been to. You think it has something to do with Coach?”

“What makes you say that?”

“I saw Lester talking with him. About what? Don’t know.”

“Really?” Dean nods and you look puzzled. “Whatta you think he wants?

Dean looks done with you. “I just said, I don’ know, Dumbass.”

“I was just asking, Smartass.” You scoff and glare at him.

The game starts and the coach puts you and Dean on as defensemen. The team’s center gets the puck and passes to the left wing. They do one of coach’s plays and manage to score the first goal.

The opposing team soon gets the puck and begins coming towards your side. You immediately get into defense as the puck holder skates towards you and you see the perfect chance to get low and throw him over you.

The crowd cheers and Dean shouts your name with glee as you quickly get the puck and skate forward as fast as you can. Dean shoves the players coming after you and gets you an opening to shoot.

You don’t though and instead pass it to Dean who shoots the puck hard and makes it in. The team cheers for him and congratulate him as you stand just a few feet from them.

When they skate off and Dean looks at you, you smirk and skate up to him and punch him in the chest. “Fuck yeah, D! Nice shot!”

“And you with that takedown. That’s what I’m talking about, baby!” Dean yells and you both smack each other’s hands one, two, three times.

The game continues, you and Dean continue being the best enforcers the two of you are. You both throw players over you, shoving them against the walls of the rink and past their weak defense and scoring when you two see the chance. The crowd goes wild and it only fuels you.

The last buzzer rings and the game ends with a score of eight to two. The team celebrates the win as they head back to the locker room, Dean being the loudest as he congratulates everyone with a hard punch.

You get the worst of it. His hand is hard and heavy when he strikes your shoulder and the force has you stumbling. You can feel the print his fist left even with the gear that’s supposed to protect you.

Dean laughs at you and you can see his ego growing at the fact. So you do what you had to to keep it in check. Dean’s too busy laughing to notice your arm swinging back until it’s too late and it connects with his side.

You reach the locker room and pay no mind to to the team as they continue celebrating. You go to your corner and take the gear off, keeping the bandana on, and change into your clothes.

Dean is still celebrating by the time you’re all changed. You scoff with a smirk as you look at him before getting your walkman and putting on a mixtap of your favorite rock songs.

You bop your head to the beat and grab some change you keep in your bag and head out to the hallway where a vending machine is at. You get your favorite snack and start munching on it as you head back to your corner.

Three songs later and snack all gone, Dean finally changes into his clothes and walks out the locker room with one of his teammates, chatting about something.

You follow behind them, nodding your head to the song blasting through the headphones and playing with the empty wrapper from the snack.

The teammate soon leaves and it’s only you and Dean left in the empty hallway. You press the stop bottom on your walkman and lay your headphones around your neck as you nod at Dean when he looks at you.

“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting.” He jokes as you two begin walking to the front of the building.

“You took your sweet ass time, that's for sure.” A frown forms on your lips as you throw the empty wrapper at him and catch it when it bounces back. “I don’t know why you take long. Not like you don’t see them everyday.”

“You’re just a hater cause I got friends and you don’t.” You roll your eyes at his comment and it makes him laugh. “We were chilling and having fun after winning. You could’ve been too-”

“You and I both know that ain’t happening.” You say as your expressions turns sour. “They’re your friends, not mine. Not to mention, they don’t even like me.”

“That’s ‘cause they don’t know you. If they did-”

“No.”

“Come on, JJ. You can’t go on life without having any friends.”

“Watch me.” You smirk and shrug. “And it’s not like I got no friends. I got you.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “I don’t count. I’m your brother.”

“And my friend.”

“J, I’m being serious.” He stops you and looks at you. “You need some friends. You can’t keep this whole ‘unbothered cool’ act forever. Sooner or later you’re gonna have to let someone in.”

Dean digs his finger on you chest, making sure you know what he’s talking about. You don’t know if that bothers you most or the fact you don’t like the topic.

You scoff and smack Dean’s hand away as a scowl forms on your lips. “And what if last time repeats? What then?”

“It’s not.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“‘Cause you’re not the same person you were!”

“D-“

“It won’t happened again, JJ.”

“You’re damn right it’s not gonna happen! I’m not gonna let it happened so fucking drop it Dean!” You snap.

You feel your index finger twitching and you curl your hand into a fist as you look away from Dean. You take a deep breath and wipe your nose as you sniffle.

You know Dean means well. He was just trying to help you and make you feel better. But the topic was just too much of a sensitive spot for you.

“M sorry, Dean. I shouldn’t-”

“Me too. I shouldn’t have either.” He says as he avoids looking at you but you know he means it. “We should meet up Mom and Dad before they start thinking something happen to us.”

He walks ahead and you watch for a few seconds before sighing and following after him.

You two meet up with your parents outside the building and Dean grins at the sight of them cheering for the both of you.

“There’s my winner.” Mom says as she begins pinching Dean’s cheeks.

“Mom, really? Here.” Dean groans but doesn’t try to pull away.

“Oh, hush up and come here” She smiles and stands on her toes to wrap her arms around his shoulders. It’s a funny sight, especially when Dean bends his knees enough to be the same height as her.

A bittersweet smile forms on your lips as you watch them. Mom went straight for Dean and didn’t even glance at you. You’re happy for him but it hurts seeing her give everything to him and not a drop to you.

But you know why Mom is the way she is. You don’t blame her and it doesn’t make you love her any less. You just wish she’d forgive you and be your mom again because it hurts having a mom but not receive any love from her.

You’re brought of your thoughts at the feel of someone ruffling your hair and you know it’s Dad before you see him. There’s a grin on his face that reaches his eyes and makes them look closed when you look at him.

“You did good out there. Can even say better than the last game.”

You chuckle. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Hey, Dad?” Dean speaks up as Mom lets him go. “Can we go to the buffet to celebrate?”

“Buffet sounds good.”

The four of you start heading to the parking lot but then you hear the team’s coach calling for you and Dean. Your family stops and looks at the coach as he jogs towards you. You glance at Dean confused and he returns it.

“What’s up, Coach. Did we leave something or what?” Dean looks at him confused.

“Nothing like that. I got news for you two.” The coach smiles at you and Dean.

You arch an eyebrow. “What kind of news?”

“Only the good kind.”

“And what is the good kind?” Dad asks, slightly annoyed at how cryptic the coach is being.

“How about we go to my office?” The coach suggests and you four follow him.

When you enter the office, there’s a man there already. He wears a navy blue suit with a tie that matches and looks about in his late thirties, maybe forties, with short curly hair that’s already turning grey. He smiles and is almost vibrating with excitement when he sees you and Dean.

You narrow your eyes at him, not liking what you are seeing but then get a feeling like you’ve seen him before. Then it clicks. “Moe?”

“Lester?” Dean says at the same time, recognizing the man as well.

All the adults freeze and look at the two of you speechless.. The men are stunned except for Dad who seem to be the only one amused. Mom, however, looks horrified and embarrassed.

She says your name and Dean’s with a stern tone and gives the both of you a disapproving look.

Dean is quick to point an accusing finger at you. “It was JJ’s idea to call him that.”

You’re unbothered by it. “This man suddenly shows up to our games, alone and focuses only on us.” You scowl as you side eye him. “One can only assume.”

The man clears his throat and tries to force back the smile. “I can assure you I’m not what you’re… assuming.”

You scoff but before you can say anything, Dad gives you a look to not respond. So you just roll your eyes and glare at the man.

Mom is the one to break the tension with a smile meant for him. “So what is your name, sir?”

It eases the man’s nerves and he smiles and offers Mom his hand which has your nose scrunching up. “I’m Don Tibbles, Senior V.P., Hendrix Apparel.”

“Like the hockey company?” Dean questions.

“Yes. Exactly.”

You cross your arms and tilt your head. “So why are you here, Mr.Tibbles?”

“Portman,” the coach calls you out with a warning tone but it doesn’t faze you. His tone goes back to normal as he continues. “I’ve told Mr.Tibbles about you and Dean and how you two are the best players and enforcers in Chicago.”

Dean grins and nudges your side, mouthing ‘the best’ with a cocky expression. You smirk and mouth back ‘bet your ass, we are’ as you return the nudge. You both chuckle as Dad starts to question the coach.

“Why does a Hockey Apparel company need to know that?” Dad looks at him with furrowed brows.

“The good news I was referring to was that the twins have been offered an opportunity of a lifetime and it’s thanks to Mr.Tibbles-”

“And Hendrix Hockey Apparel.” Mr.Tibbles adds.

You match Dad’s confusion and suspicion at what the coach and Mr.Tibbles are talking about. Dean and Mom, on the other hand, are more interested and excited about it.

Dad’s eyebrows pinch together but there’s a glint in his eyes. “What kind of opportunity?”

The coach glances at Mr.Tibbles and motions for him to be the one to tell you four. Mr.Tibbles grins and vibrates with excitement once more.

“The twins have been chosen to join the U.S.A. Team in the Junior Goodwill Games.”

“What?”

[paperrretro]

charm.

Pairing: Adam Banks x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,882 words

Warnings: Mild swearing

Request: Can you do a request for Adam Banks x reader? He tries to propose to the reader a few times but gets interrupted and then he finally finds a way where they don’t and he asks the hockey team to help him out with proposal and it is just fluff and cute and then the reader tells him that she is pregnant?

[A/N: seeing some of the og ducks in game changers made my heart warm. so proud they still got the duck spirit after all these years :’) banksy’s in his senior year of pre-law in this fic !

“You have good taste, Banksy,” Connie insists, exasperated. “She’ll love it. Don’t worry.”

“But what if she doesn’t?” Adam persists, already doubting his purchase. He opens the box and stares down at the lustrous silver ring nestled inside. “I feel like it was too easy.”

The way his dad talked about it, buying an engagement ring should practically be an Olympic sport. The older Banks had spent four months looking for the perfect ring when he wanted to propose to Adam’s mom. He’d even traveled to a different state.

Adam spent three weeks looking and didn’t have to go farther than Minneapolis.

He sighs. Of course, your preferences are a lot different from his mom’s – it’s almost funny to think about you wearing a huge, diamond-encrusted gold ring on your finger – and he did spend a decent amount of money just now. But still –

“I don’t think I spent enough for it.”

The look Connie gives him could probably wither a plant.

“It’s more than enough, Banksy. Believe me.” When Adam opens his mouth to contend, the woman starts ushering him out of the jewelry store. “Look, we’ve both known [Y/n] since forever and we know what she likes. If you don’t trust your own judgement, don’t you at least trust mine?”

“Well, yeah –”

“It’s the perfect ring. And I’m not just saying that,” Connie says. “So let’s go. I have a date with Guy tonight, and I need to get ready.”

Adam looks at her as she raises her eyebrows. Then, with another, more amused sigh, he pockets the dainty box and heads toward his car.

“You’re getting really good at arguing, Connie.”

“I was always good at it,” she replies sweetly. “I’m pre-law for a reason, Banksy.”

Adam rolls his eyes and chuckles.

—

The two of you have been talking about marriage for the past year. To be totally honest, Adam had been thinking about it for much longer that that – ever since he finally started dating you near the end of high school, in fact (you’d never let him live that down if you knew) – but now that you’re both about to finish undergrad, the idea has become less out there and more right here.

“Not to be traditional or anything, but I wouldn’t mind if you were the one to propose,” you had told him one evening, fingers running through his hair. “I’d say yes.”

“Right now?” he’d asked.

You laughed and ruffled his locks. “Yeah, actually.”

That had been the green light. After talking to Charlie and Connie, Adam had resolved to propose to you during winter break. It wouldn’t be too close to the beginning of the semester, nor would it be overshadowed by graduation, and he would already have his law school applications submitted by then. Just right. The proposal would be perfect.

Unfortunately, Adam Banks had drastically overestimated his luck.

—

Attempt One starts out exactly as planned.

It’s a clear Thursday evening, cold in that particular way that you and Adam like, and he takes you out for dinner at one of the higher-end restaurants in Edina. Admittedly, both of you would’ve preferred something a little less snobbish; however, Adam had wanted you and himself to be nicely dressed when he proposed, and this was the only reasonable cover he could think of.

In any case, you look beautiful. But you always do.

“Maybe we should dine and ditch,” you joke over a plate of overpriced salad, keeping your voice low just in case a waiter is nearby. “What do you say, Banksy?”

“As fun as that would be, I’ll have to pass.” He grins at you over the drinks. The box burns a hole in his pocket underneath the table. “Lawyers probably shouldn’t break any laws.”

“Pre-law. You still have some time.”

You wink at him, taking a sip of water. Adam rolls his eyes and huffs out a laugh.

The meal is good – worth the price, thank god, though the company is better. You’re in good spirits by the time he pays the bill and leaves the restaurant with you, coats zipped up over your nice clothes and shoulders pressed close as you walk back to the car. The radio is turned on low while he drives to the park where you often have dates.

“What’re we doing here?” you ask as he parks.

Adam taps his fingers lightly on the steering wheel. “Just thought it’d be nice.”

“You want to kiss me under the streetlight, Banksy?”

“If you want me to.”

You just smile and unbuckle your seatbelt, opening the passenger door and getting out.

This is it. Adam feels for the ring box and takes a deep breath, taking the key out of the ignition and unbuckling his own seatbelt. Under the streetlight. He hurriedly smooths his hair back.

The passenger door suddenly opens again and he nearly has a heart attack.

“—kidding me,” you’re saying. Eyes wide, Adam watches as you settle back into your seat and gesture stiffly with your free hand. “Geez, you know you can’t drive after dark during the winter. Did you – fine, okay. I’ll be there soon. Just stay in the car.”

“What happened?” he questions, hopes already falling as you hang up.

"Dani got stranded on the way home. I have to pick her up.” You sigh deeply, looking over at him. “Sorry, I just – I’m so sorry, Adam. If you could just drop me off back at my place …”

The spark in your eyes from before has faded, replaced with something wearier as you pocket your phone. Adam chews the inside of his cheek at your guilty expression. Then he puts the key back into the ignition.

“Where’d she get stuck? I can drive,” he says.

The look that washes across your face as you tell him is enough for now. He has time.

—

Attempt Two occurs on a Saturday night, and it’s snowing just a little bit.

You had been feeling sick this morning but got better well before the evening. Everything and everybody seem to be in the right place at the right time, so Adam and you set out to the same park where your date had been cut off the week before.

“Come on.”

He skates backwards on the pond, smooth and instinctual, as he calls your name. You finish lacing up your skates and regard him with mock offense.

“Good things come to those who wait, Banksy.”

He skates over and takes your free hand. “And that good thing is you?”

You step onto the pond. “Bingo.”

The pair of you skate around for almost two hours, quickly, slowly, everything in between. The winter air resonates with the sounds of your laughter and his. Adam finds it hard to tear his eyes from you for even a second.

Whenever he and you go skating, he’s transported back in time to when he had first met you – curious and suspicious, just two kids caught up in the drama of peewee hockey, living for the game with not much else on your minds. Oh, it was a disaster. You didn’t get along right away. But with every practice session on the rink, every Ducks game and every misadventure, you and Adam learned more and more about each other; a friendship bloomed there on the ice, and eventually, something more.

And after years of that feeling, the two of you finally realized what it was.

The only sound left is the silky hiss of blades cutting across the ice.

Adam exhales a cloud of breath as the two of you slowly come to a stop, rehearsing the words in his mind. “Are you ready to go? It’s getting pretty late,” he says.

“Well, I guess we should head back before we freeze our asses off.” Your eyes squint impishly above the edge of your scarf.

Always the comedian. Adam chuckles as the two of you leave the center of the pond.

He goes through the motions carefully, hyperaware of your movements. Slow stop. Skates off, boots on. A quick grin as you start crunching through the snow. Hoping that he isn’t being conspicuous, Adam leads you back towards the car but stops at the bench underneath the big tree you always used to climb.

You tilt your head when his hand leaves the small of your back. “Banksy? What’s going on?” you ask.

Discreetly reaching for the pocket where the ring is held, Adam takes in a breath and smiles at you.

“Thanks for going out with me tonight.”

You give him an amused look. “Of course.”

“Seriously. I”—he swallows silently and laughs a little—“being with you is one of the best things that’s ever happened to me –”

CRACK

Adam’s next words escape in a wheeze as you lunge forward and shove him back. The heavy pile of snow from the tree branch that had given way, so precarious a few moments before and now caught in the lower branches, falls straight onto the two of you soon after.

“Sorry …”

“It’s fine …” His back hurts.

Snow is melting on his face, and it burns. He wipes it away and sits up, shaking the fluffy powder from his coat with a chilled sigh.

“Are you okay?” you inquire, offering your hand.

He takes it and stands up with a grimace. “Yeah.” He looks at you. “You got snow everywhere. We should get inside the car.”

You frown slightly. “Are you sure? ‘Cause it seemed like you were going to say something important –”

“Just wanted to say I love you.” Adam manages a smile, brushing the snow off your shoulder. He pats his pocket and relaxes when he still feels the box. “Come on, I don’t want you to get any colder. I’m kinda cold, too.”

You regard him carefully. Then you pull your scarf down and peck his cheek.

“I love you too,” you say, soft.

The two of you hurry back to the car to warm up.

—

Attempt Three requires reinforcements. Seven, to be more specific.

“So, to summarize,” Charlie says, tapping the living room table firmly. “First, dinner. Then the holiday lights thing. Then back to your place, with all of us waiting behind some corner to take pictures. Sound good?”

Adam nods. He should’ve asked for help the first time – what was a proposal between two Ducks without backup from the rest of them? “Thanks for helping me out, guys.”

“Third time’s the charm,” Averman quips with a grin, arm slung over the couch. Connie and Guy nod next to him.

Fulton leans back in the La-Z-Boy, feet dangling over the footrest. “Man.” He sighs. “Still can’t believe you guys are getting married.”

“I can,” says Goldberg.

Jesse scoffs. “I saw it coming from a mile away. Cake Eater was whipped the minute she kicked his ass at the Goodwill Games.”

Everyone laughs. Adam grins, blushing slightly. That had certainly been a practice to remember – one that left him properly sore (and in awe) after taking the brunt of one of your famous checks. You had winked at him before skating away.

(Perhaps that had been the start of it all.)

By Wednesday evening, Adam is ready. He combs his hair, shaves, layers up for the cold, and hides the ring box behind a picture frame in the living room library. After a quick call to Dani to check if you’re ready (he’d figured that the best way to keep her out of trouble was to let her in on the scheme), he hops into his car and heads to your place to pick you up.

The two of you get dinner at one of the hole-in-the-wall restaurants in Minneapolis. It had been a favorite stop for the Ducks over the years, so the owners are familiar and friendly, delighted to see you and Adam on a date – very delighted, apparently, since the waiter also drops off a free dessert at the end. Adam cheats a little on his diet and shares a bite of chocolate cake with you.

Phase One: Success.

At the next stop – the holiday lights – you offer your arm to Adam and the two of you walk through the park. Each display gets a rating out of ten, and he gets someone to take a picture of the two of you underneath a glittering tree, grins wide and matching. It’s pretty cold, but the two of you are used to it. He kisses you at the end of the walk and your lips almost stick together.

Phase Two: Success.

Now for the final phase.

While planning out this whole thing with Charlie and the others, Adam had called and asked if you were okay with having a get-together with some of the Ducks after the date. Since his dad and mom had been in Hawaii since the beginning of December, the Banks residence was open for a night of relative rowdiness. You had unsurprisingly agreed.

After a quick text to Charlie to confirm that everything’s ready, the two of you head to the house.

“First time in a while that a bunch of us will all be together,” you comment as you walk into the house, shedding your coat. “Whoa – hey, you left the fireplace on.”

Crap. One of them must’ve turned it on. “Oh, I did? Good thing the house didn’t burn down.”

“Your parents would have a heart attack.”

Adam hums as you wander into the kitchen, probably to get a snack. He heads to the living room and retrieves the ring box, slipping it into his back pocket.

Bzz.

What now? He flips his phone open and squints at the new message.

Charlie: Remember – angle towards the hallway so I can get a good pic. Good luck man

Good luck. Adam takes in a deep breath and calls your name.

“Yeah?” you say. It sounds like you’re eating something.

“Come over here. I have to show you something.”

Your head pops out from the entrance to the kitchen, blinking curiously as you wipe the corner of your mouth with your thumb. Beckoning you to him and then keeping his hands firmly in his pockets, Adam moves surreptitiously to the middle of the living room rug as you join him.

You tuck your hands behind your back and look at him with gleaming eyes. “What is it, Banksy?” you inquire.

“I love you.” His words are heartfelt.

“I love you too.” So are yours.

The warm, nervous, wonderful feeling is starting to bubble up from his stomach to his chest. Forcing down the lump in his throat, Adam cracks a smile.

“I know,” he murmurs. “So … this has been a long time coming, and hopefully I get it right this time. I love you. A lot. And we’ve been together for a while – I mean, not as long as Connie and Guy, but – ha,”—god, he’s getting choked up—“I just … I wanted to show you just how much you mean to me. Right here.”

The gleam in your eyes is quickly becoming shinier, though your grin is wider than ever. Adam pulls the box out of his pocket and hastily gets down on one knee.

“Will you marry me?”

You tackle him into a hug with a tearful laugh, “yes, yes, yes” muttered against his skin as you bury your face in his neck. He drops the box in the chaos, fumbling to return your embrace and kissing you fiercely.

“WHOO! WAY TO GO, BANKSY AND [Y/N]!”

Just like that, Charlie, Fulton, Connie, Guy, Jesse, Averman, and Goldberg tumble into the living room, charging the two of you like a pack of wolves. You yelp, quickly buried in Ducks and full of hysterical glee. Charlie holds a camera high in the air as he shouts.

“Got it! This one’s for the books,” he tells the two of you, showing you the moment right before you tackled Adam. “Giving Connie and Guy a run for their money, I see.”

“We could have a double wedding,” says Connie teasingly. She hugs you and then Adam.

“On an ice rink. Green and yellow for the colors,” you add.

“Classy. I happen to have just the suit,” Averman says, and the three of you laugh.

When the adrenaline dies down and all the hugs have been exchanged, Adam feels you tap his arm and lean in.

“I have something to tell you too,” you say, still somewhat breathless.

He smiles down at you, cheeks flushed. “What?”

You hold his gaze for a few moments, then glance down at your hand, which is placed gently over your belly. His heart skips in his chest. Adam looks at you with wide eyes, and you nod.

“I’m pregnant.”

It’s like getting hit by a truck. He stares, speechless.

Then in a slightly strangled voice, Adam asks, trying to hide the eagerness in his voice, “You are?”

You pull him into a hug and laugh a bit. “Yep. And I’m keeping it.”

The clamor rises again as Adam presses his lips to yours once more. Charlie’s camera flashes. When the two of you pull away, he joins the hug, then Connie, then everyone else.

It is warm. So, so warm. And Adam feels like the luckiest man alive.

[http-prettycupid]

Sweetness

Alejandro Vargas x fem/reader(18+)

COD/MW2

[Slight breeding kink,]

Your back is straight, your legs are crossed, your smile so sweet under your circumstances it looks sick. Encased in a metal confine, surrounded by men who can kill you in a few seconds, you’d have to play in their game. So you continue your streams of enigmatic answers to their interrogation.

“Valeria’s right.”

Your objective in this whole missile mishap, mission, or whatever the hell people would call it is simple. Everyone just seems to think other wise. Money talks and you keep the conversation going. It just so happens that your morals revolves around dollar bills, in pesos, pounds, or any forms so long as you can cash it in the bank.

“ That’s it. Hmph! You’re working for her? Over her? With her? Cual es?”

Alejandro who’s growing tired of your answers, breaks in a huff of frustration. He grew sick of Valeria’s taunt and now he has to deal with a new face that’s somehow less mouthy but much more vexing. Although his growing curiosity about who this vixen is maybe the real cause of his pent up anger.

“Guapo, if you want me to keep talking you’d have to pay me.”

You literally have to bite back a laugh at how the brunette you heard the men call, Alejandro turn slightly pink at the nickname. He honestly could not begin to comprehend why the way you called him handsome made him so flustered.

Flirting to safety wasn’t the first plan but if that’s what it takes, you know now how to begin. You couldn’t fully speak Spanish but even if you don’t speak at all you’d still have his eyes on you.

“How about this. Since this is most important to you…I’ll tell you first.”

That sickly smile now completely focus on Alejandro as the rest of the men seem to uncomfortably shift in their stance while waiting for you to continue.

“I’ll even discount my answers, if everybody else scrams.”

A chuckle slips through your lips as they somehow actually begin to consider your terms with quick glances at each other. Then letting out a huff, Graves orders everyone out of the metal container leaving only you and Alejandro.

Oh how easy it is for you to bust out of here.

They actually left. Although they may be outside, they left you alone with no restrains, unarmed but gifting a delicious man fully equipped.

You don’t know how to put your finger on it but every since meeting him on the roof of the cartel lieutenant’s mansion, Alejandro made you want to tease him. Getting captured with Valeria wasn’t part of the plan but staying that long in the Mediterranean home wasn’t either. Who could predict in the midst of your side hustle a whole ass swat team would ransack the place.

They’ve probably also figured out that you don’t have much loyalty towards Valeria and work for someone else completely, seeing how much authority you had in a house full of cartels. Even the mafia don’t treat their guests like royalty but they most definitely wanted your blessing. Now it was their job to decipher why and why not also ask about the missiles since you seem to know plenty.

And that’s what led you here, under interrogation in a metal container. Although with your skills you could walk away free, you’d be a little disappointed having to end your fun here.

“Well-”

“Ah! My price first.”

Pressing your index finger on Alejandro’s lips seemed to startled him just a tad. But that might be him not realizing how close you were to him.

“I’d have to see about transferring you pesos-,”once again the man is hushed by your finger. He’d be so entertaining to break, you’d just have to get closer. With his rifle out of the way…

“Aww, sweetling. I never said you’d have to pay me money,” taking a chance you stepped closer. Your front now pressed against the gun, you look up to study his face. His eyes are heavy, pupils blown, kissable lips slightly parted as he took a sharp intake of air. Oh and the way his Adam’s Apple bobbed as he gulped down his nerves. You knew he’s guard is on the edge of a drop.

Ugh! Who knew a man could look so appetizing that your the one feeling like there’s a 70ft drop before you. Come on! This is no time to be a pussy.

“Uhm…no?” Gosh the way his accent soaks into the smallest words that he lets out soaks your panties. Your starting to question if you’d break first.

“No. Do you want to know what my price is, Alejandro?” You keep your voice as light as your right hand when it reached his gun and sweeps it seamlessly out of the way. Fuck! Why are you getting so nerved.

Finally standing on your tippy toes you move to his left ear, leaving light breathes that caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up. As smoothly as it went your right hand delicately traces its way from his chest, shoulders and then to gingerly rub the stubble along his jaw and upper neck.

Let’s just hope he doesn’t hear the heart beat bashing on your chest.

Come Y/N! Swallow those timid valor! You never had them before today.

With your mouth tracing his earlobe you continue the teasing. “Alejandro…fuck-please touch me.”

Aight, it’s up.

You knew the butterflies in your stomach at the start should’ve been a sign to take caution. Flirting your way to safety would’ve been easy if you weren’t getting wet feeling the hardness pressing on your stomach.

Your statement should’ve been confident and alluring but it escaped you sounding way too desperate with the airy whimper.

On top of that the soft grunt he made when you pressed your front harder on his cock had you rolling your eyes. Fucking hell! There’s no way a man can have this much affect on you!

“Ah-fuck. Alejandro, I want you to touch me. Mmhp…wanna feel you inside me, fuck your cum into me. Oh god, please. I’ll tell you anything. Just please, please fuck me-

You couldn’t even finish before he lost his senses, dropping the gun and dug his big hands into your waist. Sliding his gloved palms downwards, the brunette then lifted you into that solid body of his and rushed to press your back on the metal wall.

Your hands weaving into his hair as his mouth went to work on your neck. His chest pressed so tightly against yours that your breathe heaved even more and oh did those heavy pants and small whimpers egged him on.

The self-assured and flirtatious vixen now starting to melt in his palms and she looked so enticing all the while. Her cropped black tank top strap had fell off her shoulder, leaving more room for him to kiss and gnaw at. Her also black spandex they had left her in after ridding her cargo pants full of weapons and ammo was not doing a good job covering her neediness. Taking a quick glance he could already see her leaving wet patches on the front of his jacket. The sight alone made a moan slip out of him. If that wasn’t enough his hardness was aching in his pants, begging to be relieved.

“La hostia! Muñeca-my cremalle-mi zipper princesa”, even with his rushed sentence you understood. Hands leaving his hair, you reached his belt buckle. Then with some shuffling it came loose with sufficient room for you to unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, pulling it down just enough to also bring his boxers with it.

His tip immediately bumped your lower ass before you started to take him in your palms. With steady strokes, feeling the veins along his length, his girth that your fingers and thumb barley touched, you knew he was just a size too big. His pre-cum ran down to your palms making you instinctively lick your lips and pant. This might sting but you can already feel your girl pulse and drool for him.

“Alejandro,” with a whine you unhook your legs form his waist. Your feet meeting the ground again before you began stripping for a man you met just a few hours ago. And he absolutely ate up the sight before him.

Left in only your panties, damp skin kissed by the hot sun of Las Almas. The man wanted to ask what did he do for The Lord to bless him with you? Or perhaps it was the Devil that sent you to him. You just looked so heavenly and sinful. Hair now loose from the braid it was in, the stray strands framed your beguiling face. He had a thought you might’ve just been playing his heart strings to get your way but your doe eyes and pouty lips that are begging him to continue throw those thoughts away. He wanted to know about your stories, what made you came to Las Almas. Beyond the stories of missiles and the cartel, why you’d put yourself in such danger. But that would have wait for another time.

Alejandro rushed to hike you back up, this time roughly pressing his hot lips to your pillowy ones. Heavy breathing bounced off the container’s walls as the two bodies take in as much air as they could while devouring in each other’s rousing scents, electrifying touch and the thrilling environment they were currently in.

This was supposed to be an interrogation…

You flirted often, yes. But you definitely weren’t the most experienced with intimacy and with the pace Alejandro’s tongue moved into your mouth, you knew the footing on your plan had completely crumbled away.

He pressed his body harder on yours, gripping his right hand on your hip, taking in as much of you he could. Your small mewls that left your lips. Along with the strings of sounds, the smell of vanilla blended with coconut and some florals. It’s like the man couldn’t pick up on the musky scent of sex as his left hand made its way to your panties.

“Mierda. You’ve runined your panties Muñeca,”

You moaned in his mouth as he reconnected your lips. Pushing your panties to the side before he rather impatiently inserted his middle and index fingers, as if to test your readiness for his cock. With a gravely grunt Alejandro began working in your pussy that was now making a mess all over his digits. He reluctantly paused his ravaging in your mouth once more to look at his work below.

“ Fuck Muñeca! Your pussy’s already in love with my fingers. Imagine how much she’ll love my cock stuffing her full, hm.”

All you could do was mewl and curse into his shoulders as he stuffed your throbbing womanhood. This smug man then begin to laugh at your current state.

“Que pasa, Muñeca? What happened to that assertive vixen telling my men to scram so she can bargain for her safety?”

It was now your turn to blush. You couldn’t for your life begin to think anymore. His scent was intoxicating you, hints of cleanly soap, gun powder and musk was enough to make you lose your mind. What else? His voice and accent. God have mercy you could cum with just his talks alone. AND don’t even get started on his long fingers working in and out, now pairing with his thumb on your clit.

You can feel a certain knot tying itself in your stomach, the twisting feeling caused your body to tremble and your eyes to brim with tears. The increase in volume and movement was a dead giveaway that you were close. Even so, Alejandro removed his hand from you core, cutting off the high that had been peaking thus far.

“N-no, please. Please, Alejandro.” Fuck. Your watery eyes with those lips that he made red and swollen caused his cock to drip. Such a pathetic plea and face along with a moan of his name.

“Aw, I know guapa. I just wanted to give that needy pussy of yours something bigger.”

With a taunting pout, Alejandro then gripped your sides before a hand left to guide his cock to your messy hole. He then let your body slowly slid down his length.

“Mierda! Your so tight. And what a fucking mess your making of my pants, princesa,” he couldn’t help his strangled moans as you took him in so willingly with the most welcoming clench on his manhood.

“Alejan-fuck! Too much.” You whine with hazy eyes as tears fell from the sting as well as the delight of him bullying his way inside.

Alejandro the tease only chuckled at your words, “your doing so well princesa, taking in my cock. Come on, you can take all of it.” He sang praises as he continue to slowly sink into you, kissing away the tears that had fallen on your flushed cheeks.

When he finally bottomed out he pulled back up to the tip before refilling your sloppy pussy and setting steady pace. Your volume now becoming alarmingly loud so as to prevent his team from hearing, his lips were back on yours.

Of course if the team hadn’t heard your voice already they probably hear the wet squelches as Alejandro’s cock picked up the pace. Feeling you flutter around him and hearing your increase in volume he began slamming so hard you couldn’t help but drip down his balls and to the floor.

Legs wrapped tightly around his waist, armed draped over his shoulders while he worked you up and down his manhood. You dissolved into putty in his arms, only able to babble incoherent words into his mouth. Saliva was slipping from the edges as he continued his assault in your hot cavern. Every audible cry you began to muster with your lips parted and connecting to his with a string of wetness would dissipate as he ate them up.

Ya, as if the team could hear…

The team catching on to Alejandro’s ‘special interrogation’ was the last thing he cared to pounder about anyways.

“Mmm, princesa. Your pussy’s a real fucking treat.”

And his cock is making you drunk.

“After this I’m never letting you leave.”

And you didn’t want to.

“You gonna let my breed your pussy, hm? Cum deep inside your filthy hole?”

“Fuck Yes! Please, please! Give your cum please.”

Alejandro’s pretty done keeping your voice down. Besides, he may as well give his men a treat hearing your pretty cries for his cum and cock that they would never indulge in themselves.

“Cum on me then, Muñeca.”

Just like a magic command, the build up in your core since Alejandro’s fingers fucked your pussy snapped.

Your high came crashing down in tremors and sniffling sobs. So out of breathe you barely finish chanting his name, whiteness covering your vision you’d think you were going to heaven. And what’s an even better feeling then this high heaven? His cum pumping into you as he groaned and thrusts it in deeper. More moans pass through you as Alejandro couldn’t help but grind his seeds into your hot mess, now leaking with his cum.

“Ugh, mierda. Your going to get me in trouble guapa.” With a soft laugh Alejandro peeked at the mess you two made below before his gaze carried back to your fucked-out face. God, just your face alone was making his length stir again.

BANG BANG!!

“Fucking hell! There better good intel after you guys clean up whatever mess y’all made in there!”

Ghost’s voice could be heard from behind the container door as strings of snickers followed. Keeping his gaze on your heavy lids that were now blown wide from the sudden startle, Alejandro knew he’d have to continue this later.

“Ya, ya.”

Yup. You weren’t leaving even if you spill your whole life story to the Spanish man.

[itjazzbicch]

Small Confessions

Pairing:  Drew McIntyre x Fem Reader 

Summary: The reader, being long-time friends with Drew McIntyre and Sheamus, is hurt deeply by their fighting, trying to remind them of their friendship just to be shut down and more hurt by Sheamus, walking off before Drew can step in. So, Drew visits her at home, reminding her that they are best friends, and ends up sharing a small confession with her…

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY!) (Drinking, Swearing, Hairpulling, bit of rough sex, creampie)

Word Count: 2.2k 

Tag List: @demonqueen29 @peachy-satan00 @new-zealand-chic  @crowleysqueenofhell @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @thatpanpal @damnnhausen @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @linziland13 @xxx-jazz-xxx @writtingrose @cuzimacomedian @april-jeanette-wagner @starwithaheart @seeingstarks

I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF:   

"Drew! Sheamus!"

Why did Adam Pearce even bother anymore? It's been how long that Drew and Sheamus have been fighting non-stop, anywhere, any time.

Deep inside, it did pain me because once upon a time, we were a trio of true friends with big dreams that we all got to accomplish together. Now, this? Just constant fighting? They must've forgotten that I was still here.

"Sorry they're like this Adam," I sighed, marching over and yanking Drew by the hair, Sheamus by the ear, yelling, "Don't you two ever get sick of fighting one another?!"

Adam was watching in shock, wishing he came to me a long time ago as I clanked their heads together hard, then tossed them to the floor on their butts.

"What happened to being best friends, no matter what?" I snapped, looking between the two groaning and rubbing their heads, "Going from nothing to something together! What happened to it? Now, you two fight and bicker like little kids! Get a grip. It's already bad enough that you two almost lost your Money in The Bank spots! Just cut it out, for the love of Pete!"

"Oh, don't ya start ya stuff, Y/N!" Sheamus rose to his first, scoffing at me, "This doesn't concern you, so buzz off!"

"All I want is for us to be friends again, Sheamus," I huffed, letting out emotion, "You just expect me to toss our friendship like trash? Like, how long have we been friends?"

"That's exactly what ya need to do," Sheamus breathed, yelling at me, "It is trash!"

Sheamus's words truly broke my heart into pieces. No matter what happened between the three of us, our friendship still prevailed, and hearing him call it trash, I was defeated. The sadness in my eyes was quite obvious.

For a moment, I didn't realize on my other side that Drew was getting back up, looking even more pissed off, then Adam just had to insert himself:

"Sheamus, you-"

"No, don't." I glared at Adam, having all eyes on me, making sure I glared at Drew and Sheamus too, "I guess I'm not their friend after all. I shouldn't have bothered."

There must've been a scary look on my face because everyone stood still, watching me leave till I was out of sight and not daring to move.

They always say words are just words, but they can truly hurt. Since I wasn't booked, I gladly packed up and went home. Once I was home, that little fight left my mind, and being back home was like normal. I put up all my things, took a shower then slept.

In the morning, it was no different either. Woke up, had a cup of coffee, went to go work out, took a quick shower, started cooking some food and I heard my doorbell ring.

Lucky them, the food I had cooking was done; turning off the stove then headed over and when I opened the door, I found something I didn't expect.

Drew always had the cutest smile that you couldn't look away from, white roses in one arm and a gift bag in another, smiling at me:

"There's my best friend!"

It was so hard for me not to smile, knowing that Drew was a true friend despite his fallout with Sheamus, but I still asked:

"What's this, Drew?"

"I know ya don't want me fighting Sheamus anymore, but I was very ready to claymore him after what he said to you," He began, seeing how it hit him in the heart just like it did to me, "And it literally made me cry when you said that we're not friends anymore. So, I'm here to remind you that unlike that scumbag Sheamus, you are my friend. My best friend."

That put the brightest smile on my face, on top of my favorite flowers, needing to know what was in that bag? How could I be so heartless and deny all of that?

"Drew, you big softy," I smiled, hugging him tightly, "I didn't mean that towards you, really. I know you'll always be my friend."

"Always, Y/N," He laid his head on top of mine, swaying softly and offering, "A game's about to come on. Wanna whip something up and watch it? We can also use your gift."

"Let's do it," I smiled, taking the roses as he stepped in, "What is the gift?"

Drew always knew me well, making me laugh while heading to the kitchen island, whipping out my favorite bottle of whiskey, "Great for a game day."

"Should've known," I laughed, heading over to the window where I kept my flowers, making those gorgeous white roses right at home in a vase, taking a slow breath in to smell, hearing behind me:

"Ooh, steak!"

Turning, there was Drew at the stove, eating the steak that I had prepared in the skillet for the sandwiches I was going to make and enjoying himself.

"Can I even make the sandwiches first, Drew?!" I scolded, shooing him away from the stove, "I just worked out and need the food."

"It's good!" He protested, stealing one more piece, "I can't help it."

Shaking my head at him, I went ahead and began to make our steak and cheese sandwiches, this time he helped rather than eat it all, and got us two glasses of whiskey so we could sit at the television and turn on the football game.

Moments like these were the best. Good food, whiskey, and a very good game. Once our food was gone, we were yelling at the television like crazy, whiskey maybe influencing how loud our voices were, jumping at certain times when our team scored.

"Come on! There ain't much time left!" Drew was literally on the edge of his seat, scoffing when I said:

"I don't know if they're gonna get it!"

"Bet ya fifty bucks?" He offered, positive that they were going to score, both of us standing and I agreed:

"Bet! They're not-"

"HELL YEAH!" Drew jumped for joy as they scored, winning the game, "Where's my money?!"

"Your money?!" I played back, pushing him softly, "I don't owe you shit."

"Ah! Ah! We made a bet and-" He began and just for fun, I used the coffee table as a step stool, jumping up and also pushing it so I could DDT Drew onto the couch cushion, rolling away to laugh:

"And I bet you didn't see that coming!"

I had to hold my stomach from laughing so hard but came to a slow stop when Drew picked his head up, giving me eyes like a tiger, even while playing.

"Now, Drew-" I went to deescalate, but there was no deescalating, taking off the second Drew got to his feet.

"Why are you running, Y/N?!" He began to chase, running around the couch at first, till I started booking it to my bedroom so I could try to hide:

"Running? I'm not running!"

Damn it, he was fast and I ended up squealing super loud when he ran through and tackled me onto the bed, beginning to tickle me and then raid my pockets:

"Ya owe me fifty bucks! Kick it up!"

"Drew, stop!" I laughed even when he wasn't tickling me, "I can't breathe!"

"How ya talking then!" He made us laugh more, to the point where we weren't breathing, collapsing on my chest and slapping the bed.

"They call you a Scottish psychopath, when you're really the Scottish goofball," I breathed in deep, looking to see his messy hair and bright blue eyes connect with mine, getting that serious, psychopathic look he could get, but was still playful:

"Now, you're gonna get the psycho."

I went to gasp but was left breathless when he kissed me, so deep and beginning to press my body into the bed, not expecting this but not letting the moment be wasted, kissing him right back, holding onto his jersey when he started feeling my legs.

"This is my favorite jersey," He looked down at my clenched hand in his shirt, seeing how hard I was gripping, cocking his eyebrow when I suggested:

"Just take it off then."

"Oh yeah?" He snickered, sitting up and taking it off, slow and showing off every muscle in his arms, chest, and core, having me licking and biting at my lower lip, not paying attention till he said, "Like what you see?"

I just nodded softly, fighting the squirm in my hips, but he noticed, sending my heart racing when he put his hands on my knees, spreading my legs out, connecting hips and bringing his chest back to mine, "I can tell."

"You know that I'm a straight-forward person, Drew," I reminded him, softly grinding my hips up to his, "Where are we going to go with this?"

"You know exactly where we're going," He smiled, kissing me again, a lot more impatient and stronger, hands going right for my clothes and I helped, getting down to my panties then going after his pants, but he stood up, doing that for me.

My eyes were so fixed on his marvelous body that it caught me off guard when he yanked me by the ankle, flipping me to my stomach, really turning me on when I felt his hand in my hair.

"Don't think I forgot how you pulled me by the hair on Friday," His laugh was no good, pulling my head back and the other hand pulling my panties off, using his thigh to spread my legs, "Figured I'd return the favor."

"Don't act like you didn't like it," I joked, throwing a sexy smirk back at him, going to back my hips up, but my jaw dropped.

Kneading at the bed softly, I took a deep breath, taking in the feeling of his cock finding its way into me, the way it was splitting me with such strong friction, so warm and creating a wave of fire across my nerves when he pinned his hips to my ass, the tip of his cock as deep as possible, greeting my sweet spot.

I already knew that was the only softness I was going to get, ready to hold onto the blanket as he pulled his hips back, leaving just his tip:

"You're really gonna like it, I know that."

There was a small strain in my throat from the sharp moan jumping out, strong hand yanking my hair, pulling my entire body back onto his cock, hips thrusting hard and about putting me in two, showing me that he didn't like it slow.

Neither did I, slight tears in my eyes from the burn, but the pleasure so good that it had me in a daze already, only straining my voice more with louder moans, his pounding so strong I could feel the ricochet ripple through my body.

"I fucking love it!" I whined hard, pushing my face into the mattress to rest my neck for a moment, walls clenching hard and it was just driving him even more crazy.

"Love it, aye?" He was so proud already, laughing softly at the drool at the side of my mouth when he pulled my head back up, so out of it that I admitted:

"You know how many times I've dreamed about fucking you? Damn, right I love it."

In return, he kissed me with a passionate force, tongue swirling in when I began moaning, because his cock didn't slow for even a second, heart pounding so hard when he bit my lower lips, hand gripped on my hip and pulling back, confessing back:

"Think I haven't about you? I did kiss you first, remember?"

I nodded softly, crying out when he freed my lip, "God, Drew! Keep it like that!"

"Gonna tell me why?"

My body was shaking from how close I was, beginning to pant and it was harder to breathe his hand back in my hair again, not going to get what I wanted till I said it, not like he needed to ask anyhow because before he could say anything again, I gasped hard:

"Because I'm ab-; I'm cuming, Drew! Fuck!"

The only thing keeping me up was his hand, back bending and jerking my hips up toward him, pulling the blanket and sheets, growing weak in the knees when it all hit me, wet slick squirting out and sure making a mess of us as he kept going, groaning and swearing, but loving every moment, spanking my ass and holding on with a few more thrusts beginning to get the better of him.

"Come on, Drew," I looked back, begging due to the good feeling of his cock throbbing, closing my eyes and whining at the overstimulation, "It's just so fucking good."

"Sure the hell is," He breathed in deep, taking my wrists and keeping me pinned down, lifting our hips up just a little and pounding harder than before, having me bury my face to muffle the screams, picking up to get air and gasping at the hot feeling, walls coated in his seed, flooding in deep.

"Oh my god," My head dropped, drained but never feeling so good, slowly following along when he fixed me on the bed properly, laying on my back, huffing:

"Fuck, Y/N."

"You're telling me," I giggled faintly, looking in the corner of my eye to meet his, "Never seen this side of you and fuck."

He found it funny when my eyes rolled back and my head dropped again, not needing the words to know about our little confessions at that moment, but not leaving me hanging either:

"You can see it more if you want to."