#but the rest of everything she took it way too far and even in the beginning she started it by making that comment about holly j being

[mr-ys-phantasma]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1312

Chapter 37:

When you walked into the Iron Maiden and climbed the first two steps, you did not expect to hear Jen shouting for anyone other than herself.

"Lilla! Lilia!"

Her shouts echoed across the stone walls, and you let Agatha continue up ahead as you turned and chose to check what was going in.

Yet when you found her hitting her fists against a dirt wall, shouting the name of a certain witch that was not amongst you... you realized.

Your lips pressed against one another, forming a flat line and momentarily you closed your eyes; offering a silent prayer and a moment of respectful peace for the brave witch.

Lilia was not close to you, and the way she often stared at you made you keep your distance from her. But in the end, she cared for the coven; more than anyone.

In the end, she sacrificed herself so the rest of you could move forward; one trial closer in reaching the end of the road and the much needed prize.

A prize, one would start questioning if it was worth it, after all the mental and physical torture... and the losses.

Jen needed a moment to recover, tears being wiped by the back of her hand before she sat down by the steps; trying to process yet another loss.

One that she truly felt this time.

Teen joined her while you stood close. You could have left them behind, go find Agatha, but you chose not to. They needed to mourn, to process everything before being able to continue.

Agatha would be fine, for she was not stupid enough to walk away. Yet you could not help but have this feeling... that something was not right.

"Rio." Jen started, unsure where to start. "Green Witch with a capital G. She told us who she was in the very beginning." She continued, earning Billy's attention, who was not catching up.

"Green Craft is about the cycle of all living things. Growth and decay in constant flow." You chose to enlighten him, leaning against the stone wall with hands folded in front of your chest.

At least you were out of that dress, which was perhaps the only positive thing you could think of right now. That and the fact that you were alive, one trial closer in getting out of this helish road.

Billy looked at you, not surprised you knew. He had come to realise, with your past related to Agatha, that you knew far more than the rest of the coven members.

"So Agatha's ex is Death." He concluded, trying to wrap his head around the idea that death was a woman; one capable of faling in love from the looks of it. "Well, one of her exes." he looked at you again.

You kept your lips pressed to one another. "Pretty much,"

"That makes sense," he commuted. Somehow, it did make sense; though by now, he did question his sanity and mind.

"You knew, didn't you?" Jen asked next, her gaze on your form.

This time, though, she was too tired to judge. Too tired to throw any sparky remarks. She just wanted some more answers. She deserved to know after all the trials she had been through with the coven.

You sighed. "I did."

"And you didn't tell us."

In honour of her grief and Lilia's sacrifice, you chose not to react to her words. "You didn't ask me, not her, not anyone," you replied calmly.

It was Jen's turn to sigh. "No, we didn't." she placed the back of her head against the wall.

Silence enveloped the group of three, no one truly knowing what to say. Some were even hesitant to move, trying to savour as much as they could, this little moment of peace.

Who knew what they would face next? How quick will the next trial come meet them?

As you three sat there, it was then that your fellow witches took notice that someone was missing.

"Where is Agatha?" Jen questioned, looking around but finding no sign of the magicless witch.

"Up ahead. She should be waiting for us, " you informed, one thumb pointing over your shoulder towards the way the steps were leading.

Jen scoffed. "Yeah, right?"

"She knows alone won't do her any good in the trials," you reminded Jen as you offered your hand to pull her up on your feet. "The Road needs us together. It's the only way."

Defeated, she accepted your hand and let you pull her up; surprised by your strength. You definitely did not look that strong...and yet again, you did not look a lot of things if she were to be frank.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Path led you back to the forest, unsure if it was the same place you had started of further down the Road. Everything looked the same, but you did not trail back to question. There was no need.

As you three walked in a line, you could not help but start a conversation. Though the topic was not much to your liking.

"I mean, how did they even meet?" Billy wondered.

"Um, over corpses, I imagine." Jen answered before the duo looked at you.

You sighed. "I am afraid you are asking the wrong witch," you confessed.

"But you were first, right? You knew Agatha before Rio, didn't you?" She asked you next, remembering what Evanora's ghost was saying in the cabin.

Though Jen was still puzzled by that interaction. Evanora hated you, and Jen suspected it was because you had chosen Agatha in the end. But something was telling her there was something more.

Pieces of your puzzle were missing, making it harder to get a good image of who you truly are and what your past is.

"I was," you answered simply, clearly not wishing to continue this discussion.

It was not easy for you either. Your feelings mixed about the topic and you needed time, to finally make a decision about it... to make peace with it.

"You must have really hurt her if her next ex ended up being Death itself."

You took a deep breath at Jen's words. You had chosen not to react so far, simply as a respect to her grief, but even you had limits to your patience.

Billy took notice, and he did not really like how that topic had changed to focus on you and your rather cryptic relationship with Agatha.

And it was not right talking about Agatha behind her back, as if she was not going to show up any time soon.

"Well... I don't care," he joined the conversation. "It simply shows more proof that Agatha has feelings."

His words made you smile faintly, but you hid it from Jen, who you didn't have to look to feel her disagreement rising.

"That was your takeaway?" She scoffed. "I do not understand your loyalty to her. Hers, I understand, but not you. "

"It's not loyalty. It's analysis." Billy quickly defended himself.

"Oh, look who grew up."

"I'm fully aware that Agatha Harkness can never be anything but a coven-less witch."

You did not manage to hide your expression at those words, which seemed to sting you as much as they would Agatha.

Yet before you could ask anything, someone else beat you to it.

"Ouch!" Agatha exclaimed as she came from behind some plans.

Your eyes locked, and you could once again see right through her. You could see that something was odd, something had taken place but you were not sure what.

A part of you told you it had to do with Rio, but you wouldn't put your hand in the fire of it.

One thing was certain, though.

Agatha's mask was back on. Any moments of true humility, humanity, and empathy long gone by now. She had locked them all away once again.

Chapter 38

[beauttifullife]

Chapter 19: A Dangerous Game (Preview)

Agatha slept well.  

She always did after a night with Rio, but this sleep felt different—deeper, more restful, as though some quiet peace had settled over her.   

She stirred slightly as a delicate tickling sensation danced across her nose, pulling her from the depths of sleep. Breathing in deeply, she was greeted by the rich scent of earth and pine—fresh, and unmistakably reminiscent of a forest after rain.

A smell she immediately recognized. 

Her eyes snapped open, and her vision was met with black, silky strands of hair.  

It dawned on her with a start that her face was buried in the back Rio’s neck, her body curled up against her back. Agatha’s arms were wrapped securely around Rio’s middle, and she felt the gentle rise and fall of Rio’s breath against her chest, their legs tangled together beneath the soft sheets. 

Agatha’s froze for a moment, before pulling her head back and looking at the back of the woman’s head with wide eyes. 

She was not one for cuddling.   

She liked her space in bed, the freedom to stretch out without feeling trapped or smothered. And yet here she was, her body pressed tightly against Rio’s, her arms wrapped around her in what could only be described as a near-death grip. 

She tightened her grip, half-consciously, realizing how oddly natural it felt. 

In response to Agatha's tightened grip, Rio let out a deep, contented sigh, her body melting further into Agatha’s embrace. Without even seeming to wake, Rio’s thumb absently grazed along Agatha’s arm, a slow, gentle motion before stilling and falling back into the deep sleep.  

Agatha’s heart clenched at that, a wave of something warm and unsettling washing over her. 

Her mind raced, but her body refused to move, torn between instinctively pulling away and savoring the quiet, unfamiliar comfort of having Rio in her arms  

She felt Rio’s slow, steady breathing against her, grounding her in a way that made everything else fade—her walls, her rules, her carefully guarded heart. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen.  

They didn’t do this.  

Agatha didn’t do this.  

And yet… 

This felt dangerously good. 

Heavy emphasis on dangerous.  

With that unsettling thought, Agatha took a steadying breath, then reached forward and gave Rio’s shoulder a gentle shake. 

"Rio, wake up," Agatha murmured, her voice low and steady, not wanting to startle her—but needing to end this before it went too far, before the urge to stay became overpowering. 

Rio grumbled in her sleep, a soft, reluctant sound that somehow made Agatha's heart lurch again. 

Agatha had always pictured Rio as a morning person—someone who seized the day the instant she opened her eyes. Yet here she was, wrapped around Agatha, heavy and completely out of it. The realization stirred something warm in her chest, and Agatha gritted her teeth, frustrated by her own reaction. 

"Rio, seriously," she said, louder this time, shaking her shoulder with more intent. "You're lying on my arm. I can't feel it. Get up ." 

Rio didn't stir immediately, but then, in an instant, Agatha felt her shift as awareness flooded her, her muscles tensing and then— 

Rio shot up, sheets pooling around her waist, bare-chested.  

Agatha’s eyes instinctively moved down. 

Can you blame her?  

But then she forced her eyes up, taking in Rio’s face as dark eyes moving around the room, as the woman was trying to will it to be her own, before her gaze moved down, landing on Agatha, her expression stunned. 

Her mouth dropped open slightly, genuine surprise flickering across her face. 

Even with the tangle of emotions stirring in Agatha’s chest, the side of her that delighted in poking at Rio couldn’t resist the opportunity. She leaned back, one brow arching, letting a sly smile play on her lips. 

“ Good morning, darling ,” she purred with exaggerated warmth. “Did you sleep well?” 

Rio blinked, regaining her composure almost immediately, though a faint blush dusted her cheeks, and God —Agatha reveled in that. 

“I didn’t mean…” Rio started, her words faltering as she searched for what to say. She took a breath, her face smoothing back into a neutral mask so quickly it was almost unnerving. 

Agatha felt a pang of disappointment at how easily Rio regained control, shutting down whatever vulnerability had slipped through. The sheer strength of her emotional guard was almost terrifying. 

“I’m sorry,” Rio said, the words so steady and practiced they barely registered as an apology. She held Agatha’s gaze for a brief moment before glancing away, sweeping the sheets aside and standing up.  

Rio scanned the floor for her scattered clothes, grabbing her pants and slipping them on before turning to find her bra and shirt.  

Agatha shifted, feeling the awkwardness of just sitting there watching Rio hurriedly get dressed. She climbed out of bed herself, wincing as her muscles ached. 

As Rio pulled her shirt over her head, Agatha’s gaze caught on something lying on the floor: the strap-on, the source of the lingering ache between her legs. She reached down, suppressing a grimace as her body protested, and picked it up.   

When Rio finally pulled her head through her shirt, she froze, her eyes widening just slightly as she took in the sight of Agatha—standing there naked, holding the strap-on aloft with tip of her finger a teasing smirk. 

“Don’t forget your toy,” Agatha sang, her tone laced with playful challenge. 

She knew she was pushing it, but honestly, she wasn’t a fan of the blank-faced, overly composed version of Rio. She needed that spark back, the one that made Rio’s expressions dance on the line between control and intensity. 

Rio’s eyes met hers, lingering for a second before they dragged down, slowly, tracing the lines of Agatha’s bare body. Agatha noticed the way Rio’s jaw tightened, a flicker of tension slipping through her carefully constructed mask. 

First crack.  

Good . 

Agatha smirked, enjoying the moment, letting her own gaze stay steady, challenging. She felt a surge of satisfaction as Rio’s composure wavered, her hand balling into fists at her side, as trying to hold back the temptation to touch. 

But Rio took a breath, visibly reining herself back, slipping the strap-on from Agatha’s finger with a practiced nonchalance, though her eyes held a darker gleam. 

“Thanks,” Rio said, her voice steady, though Agatha caught the flicker of heat simmering just beneath her words. 

Agatha savored it—the subtle shift, the way she could unsteady Rio.  

She remembered the first time they met, how she wanted to unravel this woman, to see her break. Now, that desire had transformed, evolved into something deeper, something that thrived on the challenge of making Rio falter, to push her just as hard as Rio pushed her. 

She took a step closer, watching as Rio’s posture tightened, her breath hitching almost imperceptibly, a sharp exhale betraying the tension simmering between them. 

Agatha, completely bare, while Rio stood fully dressed—a dynamic that should make Agatha feel vulnerable, but in that moment, she felt so fucking powerful.   

She reached up slowly, giving Rio every chance to pull away, to stop her, to say anything that would end this silent dare. But Rio stayed still, waiting, eyes darkening with anticipation. 

With deliberate slowness, Agatha hooked her fingers under Rio’s chin, tilting her face up in that familiar way Rio so often did to her. The power shift was electric, a charged echo of every moment Rio had held her there before, but this time, it was Agatha’s turn. 

Agatha leaned in, watching as Rio’s eyes fixed on hers, unwavering, and stopped just shy of letting their lips meet, savoring the hitch in Rio’s breath that spilled against her own. 

“You should get going,” she murmured, voice low and teasing. “Your boss doesn’t seem like the type that tolerates being late.” 

She caught the brief flick of Rio’s tongue over her own lips, and it took every ounce of restraint not to close the distance, to taste her right then and there. But instead, Agatha straightened, locking eyes with Rio one last time, a wicked grin playing at her lips before she released her hold, stepping back.  

Without another word, she turned and strolled toward the bathroom, every inch of her aware of Rio’s gaze, the heat from her stare lingering over her bare skin, igniting every nerve as she walked away. 

At the bathroom door, Agatha paused, glancing back over her shoulder, a wicked smile playing at her lips.  

“Unless, of course… you somehow manage to make your boss late with you,” she murmured, her tone a soft, dangerous tease. “Then she can’t really punish you for that…now can she?” 

She held Rio’s gaze, letting the words hang in the charged silence, her challenge unmistakable, before disappearing into the bathroom, leaving the door just barely open. 

[zayadriancas]

[iluvmattsbeard]

innocence (c.s)

master list

popular!chris x quiet!reader

warnings: smut/car sex/virginity loss/fingering/p in v/angst/asshole chris

preview: you and chris sat next to each other in class. he liked that you weren’t like the rest of the girls. though he’s in denial of his feelings. what happens when one day he gives you a ride home?

a/n: sorry i stay slacking guys 🙁 forgive me. FRAT BOY CHRISSSSS. also, listen to song as you read. i actually can’t believe how good this song is.

Chris and you are sat in class quietly. your heart aches every time you guys meet each other's gaze. it's been nearly a month since the incident. the incident that you didn't expect to happen. you knew it was too good to be true but, there was a sliver of hope you felt. the way he sweet talked you, the way he took care of you, and how gentle he was. you never expected it to turn south so quickly. he treated you like you were invisible after it all. it broke you immensely but, you felt stupid for even having that small bit of hope that you would actually be different. how could you be different in his eyes?

you were nothing compared to those popular girls who basically threw themselves at him. the way their hairs sat perfectly, the way their outfits were carefully thought of, and how good they spoke. especially when they flutter their eyes and have that small soft grin when they flirt with Chris. you were nothing like them; you tried so hard to push the feelings away but, your mind replays the same memory over and over again.

-flashback-

you were standing there dumbfounded, your heart breaking as you speak up shakily, "a mistake?" you look at him with hurt in your eyes. his expression falters for a second but he quickly regains his cold demeanor. he looks away and sighs, "yes. a mistake." he whispers. you look away slowly, shaking your head slightly in denial, "h-how could it be a mistake? you told me it was the best you ever had-." you were quickly cut off, "I was just caught up in the moment okay?" he says sternly. you look back at him, you felt yourself getting weaker from every word that came out of his mouth. you open your mouth slightly, about to speak but, he just continues, "just-," he sighs, "just keep your mouth shut about it okay? I can't have people knowing." he says, while avoiding eye contact.

keep your mouth shut? how could he just say that? is it because it would effect his image? "why? because you're embarrassed?" you let out shakily. there was a moment of silence but he nods, "yes." he says bluntly. there was that feeling again, getting worse by the second. you nod slowly, "got it." you whisper before turning around to walk away.

Chris looks up at the sight of you walking away. secretly, he felt terrible for hurting your feelings but, he knew he couldn't show it. he turns around and walks the opposite direction, scolding himself in the inside. why did he let it get so far if this is what he had to do? why did he care so much? his friends would ridicule him for god knows how long, if they ever found out what happened between you two. as much as he's hurting in secret, he knew he couldn't be seen with you or associated with you.

-end of flashback-

the bell rings, snapping you out of your deep thought. you move slowly to put your books in your bag. Chris was secretly taking small glances over at you, he still felt terrible for everything. he bites his lip softly before getting up, looking away slinging his backpack onto his shoulder. he walks out of class, making you look up at him go. your heart dropping but, you quickly shake it off.

you get up and walk out of class, your head dropping down to your feet as you took steps. there you were in deep thought once again but, it was quickly interrupted by a thud. you look up startled, you meet eyes with an irritated girl. you had just bumped into her as she scoffs slightly, "move." she scolds as you nod, "sorry." you mumble about to walk past her but she stops you, "what was that?" she says, "speak louder you freak." you look around to quickly realize that now everyone was watching, even Chris. he's stood there with a group of friends as he watches with a blank expression.

"i'm sorry..." you spit out nervously as she mocks you, "i'm sorry- yeah you should be. next time pay attention." you nod slowly before walking away, your cheeks flustered by embarrassment. Chris deep down felt angered for you. he never understood why anyone would pick on you but, obviously he kept that to himself. "dude something is up with that girl." one of his friends says, catching Chris's attention. he clears his throat before nodding in agreement, "right. try being sat next to her." he chuckles a bit as he ridicules you to his friends. which deep down he didn't feel right doing but, he felt the need to. you turn your head around to meet eyes with Chris, hurt from the words that came out of his mouth. his expression falters slightly, realizing you heard him.

how could he act like that? you thought to yourself. you turn back around as you continue your steps down the hallway. how could he talk about you like that with his friends when you both knew what happened between you two? it was all making your head spiral. you thought of yourself as a fool for falling for his ways. like said before, too good to be true.

at the end of the day, Chris heads out the school doors as he begins to say bye to his friends. he walks towards his car, unlocking it, and getting inside with a small sigh. as he's about to start his car, he looks up slightly, doing a double take as he watches you from afar, walking by yourself. you always walked home and he always felt bad deep down that you had to. he bites his lip slightly before looking up at his rear view mirror, staring into the back seat. he gulps slightly before the memory floods his head.

-flashback-

you sit quietly at your desk. you rummage through your backpack as you begin to pull out your notebook for class. Chris walks into class as he looks around for a seat. the teacher then speaks up to him, "you are sitting next to Y/n. over there." she points. you lift your head up, meeting Chris's gaze as he takes in your appearance. you had doe eyes, with flustered red cheeks, and your lips matched the shade of it. he nods at the teacher before walking over to sit next to you. he takes off his backpack as he leans back into his seat. you focus your attention forward, trying to avoid his presence. he glances at you, looking at you up and down before he speaks up quietly, "i'm Chris."

you glance at him slightly before continuing to face forward. he chuckles softly before leaning forward and resting his arms on the desk, keeping his eyes on you, "you hear me or you just ignoring me?" he asks. you sigh quietly before turning to face him, "I know who you are." you mumble. "oh so you were ignoring me?" he teases, slightly cocking up an eyebrow. "didn't mean to." you mumble quietly as you focus your gaze down at your notebook. "right... so your name is Y/n?" he asks curiously, making you nod slowly, "yup." you respond dryly.

this intrigued him, usually girls would fall to their knees to have a conversation with him but, you? you treated him like he was just whoever. "playing hard to get or are you just not much of a talker?" he says playfully, fiddling with his pencil. you stay silent as you look up at the board. "okay so not much a talker." he speaks up again. you sigh once again before looking at him, why was he trying so hard to get you to talk? "look, yes, i'm not much of a talker but also, I just don't feel the need to talk to you okay?" you say bluntly before turning your gaze back to the board.

he grins slightly before putting both his hands up in defense, "got it." he says leaning back into his seat. you paid attention to the lesson as you carefully took notes as the teacher spoke. meanwhile, Chris would just roll his eyes in boredom, still taking glances at you when he got the chance.

as much as you didn't want to speak to him, as days passed by with him sat next to you, you had no choice but to give in and speak to him. he mostly rambled about non sense but, you just let him. you started to realize he wasn't that bad to talk to, even though he did most of the talking, you felt like you could say anything to him without feeling judged. deep down, he was really understanding and down to earth. he was respectful and when you did speak, he would keep his eyes on you, blocking everyone out. it didn't take very long for you to start feeling some type of way towards him. in your defense, he was the only guy who really kept a strong conversation with you.

one day, the weather took an unexpected route. you always walked home from school and today as you begin to walk, you feel droplets fall onto your head. you look up at the cloudy sky as it begins to pour rain. you stop in your place as you sigh, looking back ahead of you. it takes you almost about 30 minutes to get home. this was going to suck, you thought. to make it worse, you were wearing only a thin long sleeve shirt and jeans. the cold air mixed with the cold water hitting you, made you walk extremely slow.

Chris gets in his car quickly as he starts it, immediately turning on the windshield wipers. he throws his back pack into the passenger seat as he begins to drive. what an odd day for rain, he thought to himself. he wasn't driving for long as he does a double take at your figure, walking alone the rain. "is that Y/n?" he whispers to himself before rolling down the window, driving slowly near you, "Y/n!" he calls out, making you turn your head to face whoever has called you. you squint your eyes slightly, due to the heavy rain. didn't take you long to figure out it's Chris. "Chris?" you call out, bringing your hand up to your forehead as you continue to squint.

you were soaked from the rain, slightly shivering, "get in!" Chris calls out. you hesitate, "what? no it's okay! i'm soaked." you reply about to continue walking. "get in Y/n! i'm not letting you walk in this rain!" he says. you look at him again as you nod slowly before walking around to the passenger seat, getting in. you felt some relief as you felt the warmth of his car but, sitting in soaking wet clothes was uncomfortable.

"shit- I don't think I can drive in this weather." he says as he tries to look forward but, the windshield wipers couldn't even help to clear the view. he decides to pull over so that hopefully this all subsides. you sit there quietly as you look at him. he takes his key out of the ignition before looking back at you. "do you have to be home at a specific time or..." he asks quietly. you shake your head slowly, "no i'm good." you respond, still uncomfortable from the condition of your clothes. "sorry, should I start the car up again?" he asks about to put his key back, "no, it's fine Chris." you say reassuringly as he leans back into his seat and sigh. "I wasn't expecting this weather." he begins to start small talk. "me neither." you say quietly. you both were feeling a bit awkward, unsure what to do in this situation.

the weather was quite terrible and being stuck in a car soaking wet was not ideal for you. as you look down at your hands, you're oblivious to Chris glancing over at you. sometimes his gaze a little longer than the last but, he couldn't help it. the way your damp hair stuck onto your face, your cheeks were flushed red from the coldness, and he couldn't help but watch the way you trembled slightly. "so we're back to this?" he breaks the silence with a small laugh. you look up at him confused, "back to what?" you ask curiously. "you being so quiet." he teases, making you roll your eyes, "well this isn't quite an ideal situation." you shoot back. "you're right. sorry." he says staying silent for a bit but, that obviously didn't last long, "answer me one thing."

your eyes dart to him again confused, "okay..." you say quietly trailing off. Chris meets your gaze, gulping slightly before asking his question, "why do you keep to yourself? so quiet all the time?" you stay silent, caught off guard by his blunt question. why did you? you look back down at your hands, trying to figure out how to respond. “well… I just choose to.” you let out, making Chris shake his head slightly, “elaborate.” he says. you sigh softly before speaking up again, “I guess I choose to stay silent because it’s not like anyone bothers to have a conversation with me.” you pause, playing with your fingers nervously, “why should I waste my breath on people who don’t even bother trying? it saves me the embarrassment.” you mutter quietly.

Chris’s expression falters and he gulps once again, “well you need to give yourself more credit. why do you think you would be embarrassed? when I talk to you, it’s easy and I think people will realize that as well if you try.” he advices, keeping his eyes on you. trying to read your expression. you stay silent, taking in what he just said. “don’t know if you realized but, I am sort of the school’s easy target.” you convey quietly. maybe he’ll understand but, he shakes his head, “easy target? bullshit. don’t take anyone’s shit Y/n.” he says making you scoff with humor, “easier said than done.” you mumble.

you’re caught off guard by what he does next, he lifts your chin up slowly to meet his eyes. “i’m serious. you’re a good person, quite interesting in my eyes.” he says quietly. you swallow a bit, nervous as he runs his thumb across your bottom lip gently. his eyes taking in the sight. “w-what are you doing?” you whisper nervously. “not sure…” he mumbles quietly, “something is just drawing me to you. even from the start.” he adds on in a small whisper.

you look away, pulling your face away from his hand. he sits there a bit shock from your sudden movement, “did I say something wrong?” he asks. you look down at your feet as you shake your head slowly, “n-no it’s just… i’m not trying to be apart of your game…” you admit in a small whisper. he raises his eyebrows a bit, “what game?” he asks still confused. “i’m not stupid Chris.” you turn to face him, “what do you mean something is pulling you to me? is that what you say to every girl?” you continue. “do you think I just get with every girl? I mean what I say Y/n. ever since from the start, I felt drawn to you. your demeanor.” he admits, hoping you’d understand. “I-I don’t know…” you whisper quietly. he places his hand on your cheek gently, his touch cold as he makes you face him. “I mean it.” he says quietly. it felt genuine to you but, what if it’s too good to be true?

silence filled the air. the tension between you was obvious as you let out a shaky breath, slowly looking down at his lips and back up to his eyes. you lean in slowly, something about him was now drawing you in, were you falling for his trap? but how can someone sound so genuine? you feel his lips attach onto yours softly, making your heart beat fast. both yours and his lips moved in such synchronization. his hand eventually move away from your cheek as it snakes behind your neck. Chris deepens the kiss, making you place your hands on his shoulders hesitantly. you couldn’t help but think, he’s so good at this, of course he was. he then pulls away suddenly, trying to read your expression, “is this okay?” he whispers. making you nod slightly with a gulp. he unbuckles his seat belt, bringing his hand back behind your neck, kissing you once again, this time more eager than the last.

you moan softly against his lips, making him run his hands down your shoulders, down to your waist. the kiss is nothing like you’ve ever experienced and his touch was gentle. you take the initiative to crawl onto him, both your legs straddling him as you do it without breaking the kiss. his hands run down your back slowly. you move your hips slowly, not meaning to grind against his dick but, you do and it was obvious how hard he is. he places his hands on your ass gently, caressing it slowly as he works his mouth against you with growing hunger. you pull away breathlessly, about to speak up but he gets to it first, “let’s get in the back seat?” he suggests. your eyes linger to the back, making you a little nervous, “u-um… sure…” you whisper. “we don’t have to if you aren’t comfortable-.” he starts off but, you cut him off, “no. i’m comfortable with it.” he nods keeping his eyes on you. you make your way to the back seat, him following shortly after. you sit there in silence as the thoughts begin to eat at you again. how many girls have been back here? you see Chris begin to take off his shoes, making you do the same.

he gently holds you by the waist, laying you down carefully. his eyes never left yours as he whispers, “you’re so beautiful.” you feel your cheeks heat up as you whisper back, “thank you…” he leans down to your face as he begins to kiss you once again. this time, his hand lingers down your thigh. he then brings his mouth to your neck, kissing it delicately. his hand then goes up under your shirt slightly, feeling his cold hand graze your lower stomach, making you shiver slightly. he then brings his lips back to yours as he deepens the kiss, moving his hand down your pants slowly, making his fingers slowly rub up and down your clothed heat. you let out a small breath in between the kiss as you open your eyes and push him away slightly. “w-wait.” you whisper breathlessly. he looks down at you, his features barely lit up by the gloomy atmosphere from the outside, “what’s wrong?” he asks concerned. “it’s just…” you look down at his hand in your pants, “i’ve never done this…” you confess. his face softens as he whispers, “are you sure you want this?” even though you’ve been hesitant, you want it so bad. “yes.” you mutter slightly confident. he nods, “i’ll be gentle okay?” he whispers, continuing his hand movement, he slowly brings his hand into your underwear, running his fingers up and down your folds slowly, “you’re already so wet beautiful.” he says quietly, his eyes still never leaving yours.

“i’m going to stretch you out a bit first. is that okay sweetheart?” he asks softly. you feel your heart about to pound out of your chest from the pet name, “y-yes.” you let out with a soft breath. he remains eye contact as he brings his fingers near your entrance. he pushes one finger in first, his fingers were long and you feel your chest rise and fall from the sudden sensation. he pumps his finger slowly as he watches you carefully. your eyes flutter shut as you take in the new feeling. you moan softly, which to him was angelic. your eyebrows furrow slightly as he continues to pump slowly. “okay i’m going to add another finger. is that alright beautiful?” he whispers. you swallow and nod, your eyes still shut. he adds a another finger making you gasp quietly, “you okay sweetheart?” you nod at his words as he now pumps in and out of your soaking core slowly. “does it feel good?” he coos soothingly. “y-yes Chris.” you moan out as his fingers begin to redouble it’s efforts. he begins to pump his fingers a bit faster, making your thighs close in slightly, “C-Chris.” you stutter at the sensation. he uses his other hand to pry your legs apart slowly as he whispers, “you’re doing so good f’me.” he then uses his thumb to rub small circles on your clit, making you gasp once more. how did he know how to do this so well? how did he know the right places?

he uses his other hand to rub my cheek delicately as he whispers, “you’re so pretty under my touch.” your eyes meet his as your eyebrows furrow more, your eyes glossy from the pleasure. you feel the knot in your stomach form, signifying how close you are. “I-I’m going to cum Chris.” you whine out, making him grin slowly, “be a good girl and cum all over my fingers sweetheart.” he says, making the knot in your stomach snap, letting out ragged gasps, your back arching a bit at the high. “oh my god.” he lets out breathless, “you’re so perfect.” he says taking out his fingers, bringing it up to his mouth, cleaning his fingers dry, “tastes s’good.” he says with small groan. he then places his hand on the button of your jeans, “may i?” he asks huskily. you nod as you watch him begin to unbutton your jeans and tug them down slowly, along with your underwear. his eyes dart at your now exposed core. you feel your heartbeat speeding up as you feel slightly ashamed. “you’re perfect.” he reassures as he licks his lips slightly. he then unbuttons his jeans, pulling them down. leaving his boxers still on. the obvious boner is peaking through it. your eyes widen slightly. even though he was still covered, it was obvious how big he was. he then moves his gaze to the glove compartment, opening it to pull out a condom. of course he has a stash in his car. how often does he do this to be so prepared?

you watch as he meets your eyes once again, pulling his boxers down. the tip of his dick hitting his stomach slightly. you gulp nervously. you couldn’t believe this was happening right now. about to lose your innocence in the back seat of the most popular guy in school. he rips open the condom wrapper, pulling it out and handing it to me, “put it on me.” he says, making you sit up and look at his dick, now close to you. you begin to roll it down his length slowly, “i-is it going to fit?” you ask nervously. he chuckles softly before rubbing your cheek, “it’ll fit sweetheart. you tell me if it hurts too much.” he says as he lays you back down gently. the sound of rain escapes your ears, due to how loud your heart pounding. he spreads your legs open as he aligns in between you, “i’ll put the tip in only for now okay?” he says quietly. you nod hesitantly as you look down at his cock. he runs his hand on it at first before lowering it in front of your entrance. he lubricates the tip of his protected cock by rubbing it up and down your folds slowly. he then pushes his tip in gently, his eyes flickering up to your face. you bite your lip a bit hard as your facial expression betrays the pain you feel.

he stops and whispers, “it’ll only hurt for a bit. i promise it’ll feel better okay? just breathe f’me.” you nod as you do as he says. he thrusts his tip in and out slowly, you begin to ease slightly. you continue to watch his tip disappear and reappear in you as he watches your face closely. after a bit, he then speaks up, “i’m going to go further okay?” you nod in response, still nervous it won’t fit fully. he begins to push into you further, slowly stretching you out more. your mouth opens, a small whimper escaping, “C-Chris it’s too big.” he looks at you as he stops, “it’s okay sweetheart. just be a good girl okay? you’re doing good so far.” he says. you swallow as you flicker your eyes from his face to the scene happening. he behind to move slowly, a grunt coming from his mouth, “shit. you feel so good around me baby.” he looks down at the sight of his cock going in and out of you slowly, “you’re doing good.” he reassures. he continues his slow and deep thrusts, making you throw your head back slowly. moans flying out of your mouth from the burning sensation. “so beautiful baby.” he moans lowly as he continues to watch his movements. “y-you can go faster.” you let out shakily.

“are you sure?” he asks with a bit of worry, “I don’t want to hurt you.” you nod, “i’ll be okay.” you whisper. he nods as he begins to pick up the pace. his hand rests behind your neck as he rests his forehead against yours. his thrusts are fast and deep, hitting your g spot with every movement. “so fucking good.” he mumbles close to your face. you attach your lips onto his as he does the same back. with this, he begins to slam into you at a rough pace. making you moan loudly against his lips, “Chris!” “you’re doing s’good baby. keep taking it like a good girl.” he moans lowly as he continues. the car is filled with the sounds of your skins slapping against each other. you grip his shoulders a bit hard, making him hiss slightly against your lips. he leans back up a bit as he places his hand on your chin, his thumb resting on your lip. “who knew you could take dick so good.” he lets out as his thrusts continue to progress. you moan loudly as he grips your chin a bit harder, “open your mouth sweetheart.” you do as he says as he pushes his thumb into your mouth.

“such a good girl obeying me.” he says as he moves his thumb in and out of your mouth, still pounding into you. you gurgle slightly as your eyes shut tightly from the feeling of his cock, hitting your g spot so good. the pleasure is nothing you’ve ever felt before. you didn’t want this to end. he was so careful with you, so reassuring, and thoughtful. he knew how to work your body perfectly. he then removes his thumb from your mouth as he grips your jaw gently, “you’re s’good wrapped around me.” he groans as he then pulls your thighs up to his chest, pounding into you at a more fast pace. you gasp loudly as you swallow harshly, “ah! fuck!” you moan loudly. you forgot that it was still daylight, if the rain clears up anytime soon, you guys would for sure be caught. “what baby? you like that?” he asks sweetly. you whine with a nod, the feeling was unbelievable. the way you both rock together was something you never expected. the noises that came out of his mouth, made you feel great. not only were you feeling incredible, you knew he was too. how many girls have seen him like this? you feel the knot in your stomach appear again as he doesn’t hold back with his thrusts. “I-I’m so close!” you moan loudly. “cum all over this dick sweetheart.” he says with a grunt following. you start to feel your legs shake as the knot snaps once again, letting you release all over his dick. he feels you clench around him as you shudder, your face contorting into pure ecstasy. he watches you fall apart under him, making his face turn into slight submission. he continues to pound into you before one final thrust, releasing his hot cum into the condom inside of you. he moans loudly as he rides out his climax, “fuck such a good girl.” he grunts.

when regaining strength, he looks down at you, you both were sweaty. he moves your hair from your face, making it unstick as he smiles softly, “you’re incredible. i’ve never felt this good before.” he whispers. you look up at him as you swallow, “r-really?” he nods, “yes really.” you both eventually lay there in silence, taking each other in as he places soft kisses on your forehead. the windows were all fogged up and you start to hear the rain again. your heart beating fast still as he lays onto of you. what could get any better than this?

the next few days, you notice Chris a bit distant. he would barely talk to you in class and you were starting to feel like something was up. one day, you follow him, calling out for him, “Chris!” he turns around and looks at you but, he quickly looks around nervously, “what?” he asks. “why are you acting so weird? you’ve been treating me differently.” you say confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he says before turning around about to continue walking. “seriously? what we fuck and all of the sudden i’m nothing?” you ask slightly hurt. he turns around and looks at you with a harden expression, “can you keep your voice down? look, it was a mistake.” he reveals, your face dropping.

-end of flashback-

so not only do you think about it, Chris does too. he has been thinking about it. it eats him up inside but he can’t help but try to ignore it, to keep up his reputation. he looks away from the rear view mirror as he sighs. no one knew he was hurting like this. he hated the fact he pushed you away. he lied to you and said it was a mistake but, it was further from the truth. it wasn’t a mistake to him. he meant what he said, it was the best he’s ever felt. he couldn’t fight back his underlying emotions in that moment. he glances back up at the mirror, taking in the back seat again before looking down at his phone. he pulls up your contact and immediately texts you.

Chris

‘i’m sorry Y/n. I didn’t mean to hurt you.’

he sees you read it but, he gets no response.

Chris

‘please talk to me. it wasn’t a mistake. i’m sorry it took me so long to admit it.’

he sits there desperately as he waits.

Y/n

‘it’s fine but, you made me realize it really was a mistake.’

Chris

‘no don’t say that please. it was a dick move of me. please believe me.’

Y/n

‘I fell for your game. I can’t believe I fell for your sweet talk.’

Chris

‘Y/n believe me. everything I said to you that day, I meant every bit of it. I know it’s hard for you to believe but, I went everyday beating myself up for it. you are more than you think and I want to prove to you I can do better.’

Y/n

‘yeah how?’

Chris

‘just let me be the man for you. I don’t care what anybody says. let me prove that to you that I won’t let my reputation get in the way.’

Chris’s attention is soon interrupted by a knock at his car door window. he looks up from his phone and sees you standing there. he opens the door quickly and embraces you, “i’m really sorry okay?” he whispers, “I don’t want to lose you again.” you melt into his touch as you sigh, “it really hurt Chris.” “I know but-.” he pulls away pausing for a bit as he looks down at you, “I really will do anything to make it up to you.” he whispers. you look up at him as you try to read his expression, last time you didn’t know what was real or not. will he make it up to you? or does he just want more of your innocence? you just stay silent as you rest your head on his chest.

a/n: sorry if it’s so long! hope you enjoyed. likes, comments, and reblogs are so highly appreciated. love you guys.

tags! (comment if want to be added)

@jnkvivi @fuckshitslover @nickgetsmewetter @mwahsturns @sturniolo-fann @etvar12 @hxnnah24 @strnlxlqve @sturncakez @sturnioloremarker @3lizaluvs @lanaswifeyy @dirtylittleheart333 @luzsturniolo @sturnpooks @sturnioq @c6ina @jetaimevous @mattsbrowser @sweetangelgirl7 @fratbrochrisgf @l0vergrlll @deadiish

[buckyalpine]

18+ Sometimes I get an idea in my head and you'll hear 10 versions of the same thing, word for word, I swear (iykyk). I'm sorry. Just a little in coming fluff, angst and smuttt. We're giving him the ending he always deserved. This is a mess of my brain vomit.

Sergeant Barnes who can't help the crush he has on the sweet nurse stationed at his camp, always finding ways to talk to her, even if it means interrupting her in the middle of the way, wagging his finger around the tent because he has a dire papercut.

She'll patch him up every single time with a shake of her head, telling him to be more careful and he'll say yes mam, just to be back in the same cot the next day like clockwork.

Sergeant Barnes who walks her to her quarters every evening and bids her goodnight with a tip of his hat, always a gentleman. He never misses an opportunity to hold the door open, fetch extra supplies, grinning all while she tells him to get back to his work, worried he'll get in trouble for always helping her.

Sergeant Barnes who has a flirty little mouth on him, never missing a moment to tell her how lovely she looks. She dismisses everything he says, after all there's no way he could see her that way when she's sweating, covered in grime and blood aftering bandaging up different men.

Sergeant Barnes who wonders if she feel the same way when catches a tear roll down her cheek the first time she has to sew his injures. Her hands work quick and steadily keeping a straight face until the last dressing is placed across his abdomen. He's seen her do the same thing to plenty of others, sending them on their way right after but not him. She checked over him again and then once more, insisting he rest for an additional night before he was off again.

Sergeant Barnes who didn't realize it would get this far. He only intended to kiss her, he really did but the surprised little whine she let out was too much. How could he left her go when he hands clutched onto his uniform tighter, lips parted, letting his tongue lace with hers.

He made love to her that night.

Sergeant Barnes who took his time touching every bit of her body with softness, laying her in bed and covering her with the sheet when she shyly looked away. He didn't need much more than that, happy to feel her bare skin on his while he felt her lips flutter against his neck, he may as well have died and gone to heaven.

Sergeant Barnes who doesn't rush a thing while he pumps his cock, letting his swollen head rub though her slit while letting her know much he adores her. How perfect she already is. She whispers a please in his ear and he starts to push himself inside, his length already throbbing with need.

"I know angel, I know" He coos at the gasp she lets out, his hand coming up to caress her cheek, his thumb stroking her skin. "S'just me doll, s'just me you're feeling"

He stretches her slowly, after all his sweet angel has never felt anyone else. Her face hides in his neck, panting as he fully sheaths himself, cuddling her body, rubbing her back.

"S-so big, Sergeant" is the best she can get out and he has to force himself to not cum on the spot. He starts to move, holding her tighter because he didn't expect to struggle this much.

"I love you" He rasps out, it's all he can say without running his mouth, spewing all the things that were in his head. He really can't take it. His mind is working faster than he can comprehend. There were a thousand sweet things but that wasn't the issue. He bit his tongue from confessing she caused all his wet dreams, making him feel like a teenager all over again. That her pussy was so tight, he was leaking in her. That it felt too good, he felt like a virgin too, his cock was so sensitive like never before, fuck, she had to unlock her ankles that were wrapped around his waist-

"M'close" He pants, eyes locked with hers hoping she understands- "M'gonna cum, I-fuck, i'm cu-mph" His eyes grow wide in surprise when she tugs his dog tags and pulls him down for a kiss, her legs still wrapped around him, every bit of his cum filling her up.

"I love you too" she nuzzles her nose with his, relaxing in his hold as they drift off to sleep.

He holds her extra tight that night.

There was a war happening and tomorrow wasn't always promised.

Especially not when he had an assignment the next day.

-

Sergeant Barnes who dragged himself through hell and back, limping half sewn up with that cute little blush on his face cause he can't wait to see her again after months of nearly dying, losing men, the only thing that kept him going was getting to see-

Where was she?

"Has anyone seen Nurse y/l/n?" He frowned when the other nurses shook their heads as he searched, his worry increasing when he finds her things gone. He nearly sends off a search party until a close friend of hers quietly gives him an address. She says very little, only sending him off with a wink and a good luck.

He's utterly baffled when he sees the address is that of his own? Surely there was a mistake. That doesn't mean he'll waste anytime. The war was over anyway, injuries be damned, he's moving as fast as he can.

He sets off home, knocking on the door, his can't wait to find her again and he's missed his family soo much-

"Jamie!!" His sister throws her arms around his neck and he stumbles back, hugging her tightly, "Mama, Jamie's home!!" He doesn't let go of her as his mother runs to him from the kitchen, tears already streaming down her face.

"Sweet boy" She takes his face in her hands, looking him up and down. Her baby boy is back in one piece and that's all that matters.

Well, sort of.

"I missed you ma-ow!"

"I raised you better, you worried those poor angels to bits"

Angels?

He isn't given a chance to ask anything when she gives him a wack with a rolled newspaper, ushering him to go to his room, slipping something into his pocket before sending him off.

Sergeant Barnes who can't believe his eyes when he sees her again. Her pretty face. Same perfect eyes. Perfect nose. Perfect lips. All of it turns blurry from unshed tears because the only thing that was different now was a very round baby bump.

"Y'came back" Her voice melts into a sob seeing him standing at the doorway.

"I missed ya" He whispers against her hairline, kissing her repeatedly, his hands cradling her rounded belly, his little baby kicking against his touch. "M'so sorry angel, wish I was here-

"You're here now" she sniffled, inhaling his scent after waiting for him to come back, not knowing if he was hurt or alive, the thought breaking her heart. "We waited"

"Daddy's here" He kisses her tummy, holding her extra close again after months of waiting. Dreaming. Hoping.

He asks her to marry him. His ma wouldn't give him her wedding ring for just anyone.

A baby boy. 2 years later, a little girl. She asks for a kitten. They name her Alpine. Another little boy 3 years later.

Perfect.

[thinkinonsense]

WORK SONG❀

old!logan howlett x young fem!reader

cw: fluff, some angst/sadness, a line or two that could be nsfw

wc: 500+

a/n: this idea has haunted me for days now. also, we need more old logan fics!! 2029 logan is so hot and no one wants to talk about it.

part two here

-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-

Logan didn't understand why you stayed with him. He can't give you the life you deserve and it kills him because he knows you won't leave for your own good. There were times when Charles would even tell you to run, it broke your heart to see them both suffering.

Logan always commented that you needed to be with someone your age, someone without so much baggage, someone not as dangerous as him. Yet, you stuck around through everything; taking care of Charles and Logan after he's had a rough day.

Truth be told, you were content with your life. Logan made you happy and made you feel important. He provided what he could but you knew he was hurting. His life was far more complicated than you imagined but you were determined to ease it for him.

There were nights when you would wait for him to come home from work. He hated it when you would do that; mumbling into your neck about how you should be resting.

"Couldn't sleep without you, Lo..." You would yawn, wrapping your arms around his sore body.

"Let's get you to bed, princess." He says, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom.

The only time he could completely relax was in the early morning hours when your sleeping body rested on top of his; as close together as humanly possible. He felt so full of love when you looked at him. Logan felt selfish by keeping you isolated here but god, does he adore you.

On the rare occasion, Logan gets a day off, you make a whole day of it. The two of you would stay in bed all morning. When you would get up to check on Charles, you would slip on one of Logan's shirts from the night before. By noon there would be a cherry pie in the oven and a bottle of scotch on the table. You pull out his favorite cigars while he keeps you glued to his lap. He didn't need anything other than you.

Sometimes Logan would joke that your kisses give him toothaches because you're too sweet for him. You would blush and playfully slap his chest.

At dinner, he would stare at you from across the table while you talked with Charles. If Logan didn't know better, he would've sworn he dreamt you up; some figment of his imagination.

You took care of him any way that you could; kissing his bloody knuckles before wrapping them up, washing his hair when he was too tired to move. He would come home a mess some days yet you never questioned what caused it. When Laura entered your life, you didn't need an explanation. She would be cared for the same as Charles and Logan. You didn't care what he had done as long as he returned home at night.

Logan knew he didn't have much time left. He was falling apart in ways he would never let you see. The more he thought about dying, the less he cared what the afterlife had in store for him because you were his heaven.

No grave would hold him down. Logan was sure to crawl home to you.

[yawnderu]

ANGEL — John Price x Reader x Simon Riley

WC: 6,048 | Part I

Deep down, you knew Simon's way of telling you it's over between you was the moment he gave you his captain's number. Every single message you left Simon was left unanswered, not even opened most of the time, leaving you hoping that perhaps he was simply busy with his missions.

His deployments are oftentimes stressful from what you saw every time he came back home to you, yet you stopped convincing yourself everything was alright after 7 weeks of no contact. Simon Riley is not a coward— not unless it comes to feelings. You're too good for someone like him, someone who could drop dead at any moment, whose only achievements come from killing, forever tainting his hands with blood he can't seem to wash off no matter how many long showers he takes.

He rationalized for months, thought about it— thought about leaving you, too. Yet that lost puppy look of pure trust you gave him every single time he fucked into you, pretty moans leaving your parted lips and soft hands exploring his clothed body, desperately wanting to feel his bare skin against yours, something he never had the heart to give you. Too tainted, too scarred, too ugly. So like a broken man wanting to keep you safe, he did the best with what he had, leaving his captain's number on your night table the moment he was done cumming.

Over 2 months later, Simon still remembers the feeling of your warm skin beneath his lips, the look of pure vulnerability and love plastered on your face, so angelic and pretty, a sheer contrast to the nervousness on his, despite how natural it was to treat you with a tenderness he's never had with anyone in his entire life.

“He fell from a helicopter?” Crinkled eyes meet yours from across the table, taking a sip of his drink before letting out a dry chuckle, nodding his head.

“Aye, hangin' from a bloody rope. Had me scared, thinkin' I lost my Sergeant.” John said with a grin, his gaze softening at the way you were listening so intently, your full attention on him no matter how boring he thought his stories were.

“Is he scared of getting into helicopters again?” You lean a bit closer to him, your chin resting on your hand as you look up at him. From this angle, you're able to admire John's features from up-close. Every single grey hair adorning his beard, his crow's feet, the tiny beauty mark on his nose, the tiny spots on his face, likely gotten from spending a long time under the sun as a soldier from a young age.

“Of course. Took him a while to trust our pilots again, now he always double checks his gear's on right.” Price always pays attention to detail, the way your pupils dilate the longer you stare at him don't go unnoticed in the slightest. He asks a passing waitress for a check, not even giving you a second to offer to pay for your half before his card is already in her hands, going away to charge him for the dinner and drinks.

“And how's… what was his name again? Soap?” He smirks at the mild confusion when using Johnny's callsign, likely assuming it's simply a sex innuendo.

“Soap, yeah. He's a good kid, kind o' like the son I never had.” That gets your attention, looking away for a second to hold back a small smirk before looking back up at him, eyebrows raised.

“You don't have children?” That earns a small chuckle out of him, shaking his head at the question. He gave the waitress a small smile as she came back with his card, pocketing it and getting up from his chair, offering his arm up to you. There's no hesitation as you hook your arm with his, walking to his car.

“Never had girlfriends after joining the SAS. Became a captain at a young age, too.” He looks down at you as you walk, admiring your pretty features, secretly wondering how Simon could have fucked up that badly— how he let such a lovely and sweet girl go. He opens the car door for you, even going as far as to help you put on your seatbelt, letting you have a whiff at his woody cologne, the smell of smoke from cigars mixing in.

“What about you? Any children?” He asks teasingly, shooting you a playful grin before starting the car, blue eyes fully focused on the road. Unlike Simon, Price knows how to drive well, making you feel safe while on the road.

“Hell no. I've been… thinking about it, but men my age were never interested in that.” Even if he was much older, Simon was never even an option. Too emotionally unavailable, too fucked up to even consider having children.

“Part of the reason I like older men.” Your voice is smooth and even, a sheer contrast to the slight knot of nervousness tightening in your stomach, only coming undone when you hear his amused laugh.

Price's calloused palm rests on the gear shift before daring to move it over to your thigh, running up and done slowly, trying to heat up your cold skin rather than doing it to be a pervert, yet your body still reacts to his touch, warmth pooling on your lower stomach.

“Really, sweetheart?” Price isn't stupid in the slightest, yet unlike Simon, his actions aren't malicious. He simply wants to see you squirm, finding pure amusement in the laugh you both share and the playful slap you give to his arm.

“Stop using your charm on me.” You scold jokingly, unable to hide the big grin taking over your pretty face.

“I'm charming now, eh?” His grip tightens on your inner thigh, applying just enough pressure to tease you.

“According to Simon, you always have.” That makes one of his thick eyebrows raise questioningly, his lips pulling into an amused smile.

“I've known him for a long time, y'know? Back when we I was an LT.” He can't help but allow his mind to go back into the past as he drives, images of the eager Simon Riley, a broken man who simply wanted to change the world, who always helped without even asking for much in return.

“Has be always been… like that?” You ask after a few seconds of silence, allowing yourself to be the cat curiosity killed.

“No.” The Simon Riley he met was not similar to Ghost in the slightest.

“He was 'round 19 when I met him. Better than any recruits I've seen.” Yet still teased by his mates for being an apprentice butcher in the past, for being so rigid and basing his entire life on discipline, unlike the many other young soldiers who have since passed.

“I bet. He has that certain look on him, you know? The eyes. I wouldn't want to mess with him.” Price lets out a dry chuckle, nodding his head in agreement. Part of him is glad that he's been working with Simon because it seems that to know more about you, he needs to know about Simon as well.

“We're here, doll.” He parks the car, getting out of his seat and opening the door for you, his calloused hand resting on your lower back, guiding you to your house. You can feel the warmth from his hand spreading all over your body, soothing rubs up and down your back as you walk.

“Would you like a cuppa?” Mirth dances in his eyes at the audacity, already knowing your intentions, and yet.

“Of course.” Price follows after you, part of him growing excited by whatever you have in mind. Your slightly shaky hands fiddle with the keys before you're able to open the door, secretly thankful that you cleaned up your mess earlier in the day.

“What tea would you like?” You ask, turning around just in time to see Price finishing the once-over he was giving you.

“This isn't about tea, is it, darlin'?” He asks with a knowing smile, his jacket slipping out of his shoulders now that you're both inside the house. Blown pupils stare back at him, taking your time to admire the strong body hugged by his tight black shirt. You can see his bulging muscles, broad shoulders fully relaxed as he steps forward, towering over you. A monument of sorts when you're small.

“If I'm lucky, I hope not.” Your breathy voice was all Price needed as reassurance. His lips crash against yours, warm hands gripping your waist tight enough for you to feel the warmth spreading all over your lower body. The smell and taste of cigar smoke overwhelms your senses, too enthralled by the feeling of his tongue wrapping around yours, a small moan leaving your lips the moment his hand trails down to your ass, groping you with care, as if you're made of glass.

“How far do you wanna go?” His forehead leans against yours as his blown pupils stare back at you, his chest rising up and down with each breath.

“As far as you want to.” A small yelp leaves your lips when he lifts you in his arms, your legs instantly wrapping around his strong, muscular waist.

“Bedroom's there.” You don't even need to point— Price can see the open door, so enticing and tempting, allowing your small giggle to consume his whole soul like a siren's song. With carefulness that contrasts the brutality he uses as a soldier, Price sets you down in bed, strong arms on each side of your head, caging you in.

Your breaths mingle together as he leans down to kiss you again, warm tongues wrapping around the other, using his knee to spread your legs enough for his burly body to fit, subtly grinding against your clothed cunt.

“Been wantin' to do this for a long while.” Ever since Simon showed him your profile picture on WhatsApp, introducing you as a friend in need. He wouldn't dare confess it to anyone, not with the way his calloused hand rubbed his cock until it almost hurt, using your pretty face as a relief from the stress of war.

“Pretty fuckin' girl.” He praised, dragging a giggle out of you the moment his beard started tickling your neck, gentle kisses planted all over your warm, sensitive skin, his tongue darting past his lips to give your neck a tantalizing lick.

He can feel your hands exploring his strong body, his muscles bulging and tensing up beneath your soft palms. He only breaks apart the moment your hands go to the hem of his shirt, helping you pull it off of his body, the piece of clothing discarded on the floor.

“God…” Your whisper holds nothing but pure admiration, catching hints of his strong, muscular body, dark hair covering most of it. Your hand drifts up to his torso, caressing his surprisingly soft skin, not minding the scars you can feel beneath your hand. Price has been shot, stabbed, tortured, left for dead— his body acting as a keepsake of every mission gone wrong.

His gaze is soft as he stares down at you, holding a tenderness unlike a man like him, so naturally gentle and willing to show it without the walls guarding his heart— unlike Simon. His calloused hand rubs your thigh before drifting up to the hem of your blouse, carefully pushing it up and removing it with your help.

“Pretty girl.” His back bends slightly as his gentle lips now go to your bare stomach, planting a rapid-fire of kisses all over the soft skin, descending with each passing second, lifting your skin up to reveal your clothed cunt.

“I'll take care of you.” And he means every single word. Captain Price is a bad man, a bad man with a high kill-count and multiple war crimes to his name, yet John Price is a different story— caring and loving, so willing to fix something he didn't even break.

His eyes close the moment his lips connect to your mound, tongue darting out to get a taste at all he's been craving the moment he saw you. He lets out a small groan as the taste of your slickness overwhelms his senses, his hands roaming up and down your waist, daring to sneak past your bra, finally getting a good feel at your tits.

John is a starved man. A starved man whose only salvation is you, looking so pretty and sweet, panties wet with a mix of his saliva and your own slick. He's careful and gentle, pulling down your panties with both hands and dropping them on the floor, his breath catching in his throat when his gaze drifts down to your pussy, glistening under the light of your bedroom.

He doesn't waste any time, lowering himself again between your legs, licking a trail from your tight hole, to your swollen clit. Your legs try to close out of instinct, a whiny moan making its way out of your lips at the sensation of his beard against your cunt.

“Open your legs, love.” He whispered, running his thumb over your hard bud.

“Let daddy taste you.” He kisses your inner thigh before diving back in, licking and sucking on your clit, trying his best to make you feel good. Your moans are too pretty, your cunt too sweet, and Price can feel himself starting to lose control. His cock throbbed, his own desire growing stronger by the second, focusing solely on your pleasure.

“That's my good girl.” He whispered against your skin, sliding two thick fingers inside you. You're soaking wet yet still so tight, only making his desire grow, desperately needing to be inside you. Your whiny moans fuel him, his warm tongue flickering against your hardened clit faster and faster, mixing in with his sucking, his thick fingers curling inside your needy cunt.

Your hands run through his short hair, pulling at it softly to release some of the pleasure building in, the familiar knot in your stomach tightening up with each lick. Your chest rises up and down with each long, labored breath, muscles tensing up as the knot in your stomach finally comes undone, pushing his face closer to your cunt as his fingers move in and out, dragging out your orgasm.

He pulls his fingers out of you slowly, his blue eyes connecting with yours as he licks his fingers clean from your cum, your heart thudding loudly inside your chest.

“Fuck me.” That breathy whisper was all he needed, getting up only to slip out of his pants and boxers, his dick standing proudly. Despite being uncircumcised, you can see his dark pink tip, leaking precum like a broken faucet. Now that he's standing, he takes his time to admire your bare body, his blue eyes going to your tits when you take off your bra.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, yeah?” The option is always there, and he wants you to know. His knees sink into the mattress as he supports his body on top of yours with one hand, lining his hard cock with your entrance, pausing for a moment.

“Let me love you.” He whispered hoarsely, slipping into you gently despite his primal instincts telling him otherwise. He lets out a loud groan the moment your tight walls grip his throbbing cock, his face finding shelter on the crook of your neck. A small hiss makes its way out of your lips as your legs wrap on his hips, pushing him closer and deeper, allowing him to finally bottom out.

“Bloody hell— you're so tight.” He moans out, his thrusts growing faster as you get used to his thickness. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with desire and adoration, longing dancing within. John's lips part as he feels your long nails dragging down his back, driving him crazy with pure need.

“I'm close.” He whispers out, his hips ramming against you with increasing urgency, reaching out to caress one of your soft tits. He plants open-mouthed kisses all over your neck and chest, his breath warm against your sweaty skin.

“Cum inside.” John's eyes widen at your words, his dominant nature taking over as his hands go down to grip your hips firmly in place, the overwhelming desire and pleasure clouding his judgement, drowning out any concerns. His thrusts are deep and powerful, making you his with an unyielding force.

As he loses himself in the heat of the moment, John's muscles tense up, the familiar feeling of pure heat pooling up within him, slamming himself as deep inside you as he can before his cock starts throbbing, shooting ropes of cum with each pulse. His breath is heavy as he slowly pulls out of you, his gaze fixated on the mess of mixed fluids that coats your pretty cunt.

“My pretty girl.” He whispers out, burly arms wrapping around your body, pulling you closer to his hairy chest, allowing you to hear his fast-beating heart. His lips are gentle against your forehead, wanting nothing more than to relax with you after the intense love-making. His actions are nothing short of genuinely caring and loving, wanting to give you good aftercare, all thoughts of Simon finally out of your head.

“Want me to run you a bath?” Price asks in a whisper, planting one last kiss on your forehead before looking down, just to see your chest moving up and down slowly, eyes closed and lips slightly parted, pulling you closer to his warm, naked body so you can sleep better, deciding to get some well-deserved rest as well.

The smell of eggs and tea is what you woke up to in the morning, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. The feeling of large fabric keeping your body warm makes you look down, just realizing that John put his large shirt on your body when you were sleeping, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you get up from bed, making your way to the kitchen.

“Good mornin'.” John turns around for a second, blue eyes lighting up when he's greeted by a big smile and his shirt dwarfing your body, giving you a small wink before he's back to finishing your breakfast. You take your time to admire him, so naturally handsome and masculine, his hairy, strong body only having his boxers on.

“Thanks, daddy.” You quip teasingly as he hands you the plate, a small squeal leaving your lips when he starts to chase you around the house, shared laughs ringing around.

Dating John is a sheer contrast to any expectations you had when you first got into the relationship. Despite the fact that he's often away during missions, he has scheduled delivers for flowers and your favorite foods, calling with you the moment he's available.

“What are you doin'?” Price asks with a small smirk, his gaze softening the moment his eyes meet yours, your cheek resting on his strong thigh while he was trying to complete a report. His hand goes to your head out of pure muscle memory, giving your scalp a soft massage.

“I like you from this angle.” He lets out a small chuckle, moving his leg to make your position more comfortable as you nuzzle his leg, your chin now resting on it as you adjust your knees on the floor.

“You like me in every angle.” A grin spreads on his face, his calloused hand running down the length of your hair before resting on your back, massaging the muscles tenderly.

“True, but specially from this one.” The cheeky smile you throw his way does nothing other than to distract him further from his report of the latest mission, cupping your cheek to examine your pretty features better under the light of the room, mirth dancing in his blue eyes.

“You're clingier than my shadow.” He teases, leaning forward until his lips meet yours in an affectionate kiss, not bothered by your clinginess in the slightest. He breaks away just to give your forehead a tender kiss, staring down at you lovingly. The look of pure trust and love your eyes hold drags him back to one of the many late night conversations with Simon back at base.

“Y'like her?” Simon finally dares to ask, ignoring the growing pain on his lower stomach at the idea of you dating John, even if it was Simon's idea.

“Do you?” Price quips, already knowing the reply. There's been more than one occasion where he saw Simon stare at your WhatsApp profile picture, even if your number was deleted— he still keeps your messages, using it as an odd way of finding comfort despite the growing self-loathing from hurting you.

“You know I don't do that.” There's hints of regret spilling along Simon's deep voice, his bare fingers drumming on the cup of tea on his hand.

“Do what?” He already knows the answer, and yet.

“Love. 'M gonna get the poor girl killed.” Memories of Christmas haunt him even years later, his mind momentarily taken back to coming home just to find his entire family dead. All that blood, yet all his shattered mind was able to do was laugh even as he held a gun to his mouth.

“She'll be fine, Simon. The girl knows how to handle herself. Hell, I'm getting her a better security system soon, too.” Despite being in a committed relationship with you, John knows Simon well enough to know he still likes you, in his own way. He's seen Simon break down, seen the worst and the best of him, and eventually got to see the way he built himself back up, coming back to the SAS as Ghost.

“Wha'? You want me to date her, too?” Even if he asked it as a joke, Price's silence and the subtle shrug of his shoulders speaks louder than words.

“I know what you've been through, son. Think about it, you mean a lot to the bird.” John empties the rest of his tea down the sink, giving Simon one last pat on the shoulder before walking out of the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

“I'll go get it.” John is brought back to reality with the soft knocks on the entrance door, tilting his head up as you plant a kiss on his cheek. You make your way up to the door, your heart beating inside your chest when you look through the peephole, a familiar pair of dead brown eyes staring back. There's slight hesitation as your hand goes to the doorknob, resting there for a few seconds before you decide to open the door.

“Simon?” Despite the dark hoodie over his head, you can tell he hasn't been doing well, his skin looking more pale than usual, dark eyebags making him resemble more a raccoon than a man.

“'M sorry.” He mutters, hands deep inside the pockets of his jacket, lowering his gaze with nothing but pure shame.

“That's it?” Your guarded tone makes a part of him feel proud that you're not a doormat anymore.

“No. I'm sorry for… ignoring you, and for being a cunt.” His gaze finally meets yours. You can see the shame, the regret, and the pain.

“I was scared.” I wish I could tell you I survive out there because I don't want to leave you yet. Your lips part, though you decide to be quiet for now.

“I don't know if I'll ever be able to tell you why this shite happened.” Despite the way his hands are fidgeting inside his pockets, he's trying his best to be as honest as possible while avoiding dumping his trauma on you.

“That's bollocks, mate.” Price's voice almost scares the soul out of you, turning around to shoot him an exasperated look. For a man his size, he moves with surprising quietness. You can feel his burly arms wrap around your lower body, bringing you closer to him.

“Give 'er a proper apology.” Despite the hesitation Simon feels, the space Price left open for him is all he needs. You can feel another pair of arms wrapping around your body, the familiar scent of cheap fags and gun powder hitting your nose, bringing you back to all those nights you shared.

It's an awkward hug, a mess of limbs and warmth that you finally decide to take in, your arms wrapping around Simon's narrow waist, bringing his body closer to you despite the way his muscles tense up at the sudden contact. You can feel him relax with your touch, his cheek resting against the top of your head.

“'M sorry.” He repeats in a whisper, his cold face finding shelter on the warm crook of your neck, the urge to kiss you again growing stronger by the second, though he remains respectful. You can feel John's cock starting to harden against your ass, making you look up and give him a confused look. His hand goes up to grip your jaw softly, his lips crashing against yours as he starts to subtly grind against you, only making the confusion grow.

Simon's hold on your body tightens, the familiar sensation of his lips against your neck drags a small moan out of you, muffled in John's mouth. His tongue wraps around yours, your breathing growing more labored by the second, soft hands curling on Simon's muscular back, barely able to hear the door closing until you decide to break away from the kisses.

“What's going on?” The nervous laugh that leaves your lips is only met by a reassuring look coming from Price, his calloused hand running up and down your side.

“Part o' the apology you deserve, love.” You don't even have time to answer— not when Simon's rough lips meet yours, the kiss nothing but a pure display of love and affection. Even a ghost can be a lovely thing when you want it to be.

You can feel John's calloused hands drift down to the pajama shorts you're wearing, sneaking a few squeezes on your ass before his hand sneaks past your panties, using two of his fingers to feel your wet cunt, spreading your slick all over. His lips are now busy on your pretty neck, licking and sucking freely, not caring about any love bites he leaves— he knows you don't mind either.

You can hear his hard breathing against your tender skin, your tongue dancing with Simon's, hands desperately sneaking under his shirt, groping his hard, defined muscles. You can feel the bulging scar on his ribs, caressing it with extra care just to show him every single part of his heavily scarred body is loved.

“I missed you.” Simon breaks away from the kiss only to whisper that in your ear, his rough hand already going up to your tit, squeezing the soft fat while all you can do is moan, the combined sensations of the strong men touching you does nothing but drive you closer to the edge, your wet walls tightening around John's fingers, forcing you to squeeze Simon's bicep to release some of the tension.

“Fuck, daddy—” Simon's breath hitches at your words despite knowing you're talking to John, his own cock throbbing at the slight whine in your tone. His hands go to your waist, holding you up as your eyes finally shut, your forehead resting on Simon's chest as John's fingers move faster and deeper inside you, lazily rubbing your clit with his thumb. Your knees start to buck, more whiny and louder moans leaving your lips as you cum all over his fingers, nails digging into Simon's arm.

“That's a good girl.” Price praises in a breathy whisper, delicately pulling his fingers out of your pulsating cunt, taking a second to admire the way his fingers glisten with your slick.

“Taste her.” Simon is a man with no shame. No shame at all, making eye contact with you as he starts to suck his captain's fingers, putting them in his mouth just to taste more of your sweet slick. The hungry wolf is reduced to a starving dog, a small groan leaving his lips the moment your taste is all over his tongue.

He pulls John's fingers out of his mouth once he finishes licking them clean, your mouth opening ajar when Simon's lips crash against his, your heart beating loudly inside your chest as you watch them kiss. You can see their tongues dancing together, sharing your sweet taste in a passionate kiss, Simon's grip tightening around your waist.

They break away after a few seconds, looking up just to be met by Simon's cheeky smirk. He pushes you further into the house, fingers intertwining with yours as he walks into the bedroom like he owns the place, yet in reality, it's simply something he's done way more times than he can count.

“Pretty fuckin' girl.” His hold is all but gentle as he lays down in bed, pulling you on his lap, allowing you to feel the way his hard cock bulges on his jeans, calloused hands going to your ass to make you grind against him, whiny moans leaving your lips at the friction against your sensitive cunt.

You can hear a zipper going down behind you, only making the excitement grow at the idea of seeing your boyfriend's bare body again— no matter how many times you've seen it already. Price's knees sink on the mattress, burly arms wrapping around your waist, grabbing one of your hands just to guide it to his hard cock. Your hands wrap around it, starting to rub him up and down slowly until his fingers join yours, speeding up the movement.

“Tell me you wanna fuck him.” His voice is a whispered command, a dominance you've never heard before— and one Simon has heard too many times during missions.

“I wanna fuck Simon.” You confess, your back pressing against John's strong, hairy chest as you jack him off, your soft palm rubbing against his sensitive tip, dragging a small grunt out of him as you smear his precum all over his throbbing cock. His free hand goes to your back, pushing you down against Simon as you let go of his cock with a small whine of protest.

Simon is desperate and needy— that much you can tell by the way he removes his clothes with an eagerness you've never seen before. You take your time to admire his strong body, pale skin tattered by scars, yet looking so alluring. You adjust your position as he tries to remove his pants, exchanging a small laugh at the awkward position you're in.

He looks more relaxed and honest than you've ever seen, his eyes crinkling as you're getting your shorts and panties pulled down by Price, finally resting your naked body on top of his. It's a new change of pace for both of you— Simon doesn't like to give up control, doesn't enjoy being dominated, it's too personal and vulnerable, yet for you? He's willing to try anything.

“Show him how you much you missed him.” John's soft command makes you nod your head, looking over your shoulder just to feel his lips against your back, his hand coming up to your jaw to turn your face back to Simon. Simon's calloused hand goes down to his throbbing, veiny cock, waiting until you lift your hips up to line himself up to your cunt, a low groan leaving his lips as your tight walls wrap around him, your back arching once he bottoms out.

“Fuck, Simon…” Your face rests against the crook of his neck, planting kisses all over his warm skin as he starts to fuck into you, the wet sounds of your sopping cunt and needy moans filling the room.

Simon's eyes are closed, fully taking in the sensation of finally having your naked body on his after so many months apart. His hands explore your body with familiarity, bringing one of your hands up to his face to make you cup his cheek, gentle kisses planted over and over on your thumb.

You're too far gone to notice John coming up from behind you, keeping you against Simon's body while his free hand rubs the lube all over his veiny cock, a small smirk pulling on the corners of his lips at how much you're both enjoying each other. You're dragged back to reality when you feel his tip pressing against your tight cunt, already full with Simon's cock.

“It's not going to—” Price pacifies you with another kiss on your bare, sweaty back, slowly pushing in.

“I'll make it fit.” He reassures, a deep moan leaving his lips once he manages to slip his thick tip inside you, giving you time to adjust to the sensation before slowly pushing the rest of his cock inside you, pausing once he bottoms out to give you a well-deserved break.

“Fuckin' hell.” Simon groans out, his face scrunching up at how much tighter your cunt feels now that you have two cocks inside you. His short nails lightly dig into your skin, already feeling so close to the edge despite the fact you're just getting started.

You let out a short exhale once they both start moving, cocks rubbing together inside your tight walls, the sensation of being stretched this much starting to feel better by the second, every single nerve inside your cunt being stimulated. You pull Simon for another kiss, feeling his hand coming up to the back of your head just to pull you closer, wanting to feel more of your tiny tongue licking his.

You're a mess of limbs— sweaty bodies colliding, feeling their muscles tightening up around your soft, smaller body. Simon's moans are muffled by your lips, not letting you pull away from the kiss in slight embarrassment at letting you hear the neediness seeping out of his tone.

Their hips move in a relentless rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins, forcing your back to arch, only giving them a better angle to fuck into you. Price's hands go up to your soft tits, squeezing and groping as he moves faster and deeper inside you, his breath hot against your ear.

“I'm… I'm gonna cum.” You manage to whisper between moans, muffled once again by Simon's rough lips. The overwhelming sensations build within you, the familiar sensation of your muscles tensing up and fingers tingling starts to grow stronger by the second, the intensity of your connection with both men driving you over the edge.

The sensation of one of their cocks hitting your cervix over and over makes you whine softly, muscles tensing up as they sandwich your bodies between them, finally letting go, your orgasm washing over you as your walls wrap tighter around their cocks, your fingers digging into Simon's skin. It doesn't take long for them to follow after you, fucking into you as deep as they can as they release a thick load into you, cocks pulsating with each rope they shoot.

They remain buried inside you for a moment, chests heaving as they try to catch their breaths. Price is the first one to pull out, watching as their combined cum seeps out of your spent pussy before he lays down next to Simon, your warm body being pulled to the side as Simon lays on his side, his cock still buried inside you even while he's softening.

“I love you.” He finally confesses, tired eyes meeting yours for a second before shutting again as Price embraces you from behind. Your leg is resting over Simon's body, making the position a lot more comfortable as you bring his face closer to your chest.

“I love you too. Both of you.” You whisper, tiredness slowly taking over your body, not even realizing that Simon is already asleep, his face buried on your soft tits. Price lets out a small chuckle, planting gentle kisses all over your warm back, his hands lightly gripping your stomach as a way to let you know he loves you, too.

[fastandcarlos]

Late Cravings : ̗̀➛ George Russell

summary: what baby wants, baby gets, even if she does want it at 3am, much to george's dissatisfaction

You barely managed to walk through the door before George appeared in front of you, his eyes were wide as his hands held onto your arms, studying you closely before closing the door. 

“George, at least let me get in,” you told him, being directed by his hold. “What’s going on? Why do you look so scared?” You questioned, sliding your shoes off and kicking them to one side. 

It was only once George stood still that you could see how nervous he looked. His heart was racing as he finally let you go, brushing his hand through his hair as he took a deep breath, taking a moment to pace and compose himself a little bit once again. 

The fear of stirring in the night and not feeling you there brought a terror that George had never experienced before. He had no idea where you were, terrified that one of his worst fears during your pregnancy had come true. 

“Where were you?” George frantically asked you, “what sort of person just gets up and leaves the house at three in the morning without telling anyone where you’re going first.” 

You felt guilty as you heard the panic that was still in George’s voice, encouraging him to take a seat beside you. Your hand rested against his leg, assuring him that you were there and that you were safe. 

Your free hand reached into your bag and pulled out what you had bought on your late-night adventure, with George’s eyes watching carefully to see many of the things you’d been craving in front of you. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about these and I knew I wasn’t going to sleep without getting my hands on them,” you told him, ripping open the packet of crisps you’d bought. 

“But I could have gone to get them for you, all you had to do was ask,” George groaned, staring across at you as you placed a crisp into your mouth, throwing your head back in satisfaction. 

The thought of waking George did cross your mind, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it, he was peacefully sleeping beside you and you didn’t have the heart to disturb him. 

“You were asleep and with how busy you are you need to rest as much as possible,” you told him,  I wouldn’t have gone if I didn’t feel like I was up to it George.” 

George’s head nodded, he understood where you were coming from, knowing that you wanted to remain as independent as possible, but even by his standards this was a stretch too far. 

“I could’ve sat in the passenger seat and slept,” he suggested with a smile on his face, “at least then I would have known exactly where you were.” 

“But you know where I am now, that’s the main thing, right?” 

George’s eyes narrowed on you, as safe as you were now, half an hour ago he was worried that it was going to be a whole different story. 

“I wish you’d tell me when you’re planning on giving me a heart attack,” George joked. 

“It’s all part of the fun,” you argued, resting your head down against George’s shoulder as you continued to eat. “You know I am just pregnant though George, I’m not incapable.” 

Whilst George was overprotective, you were a little carefree making the two of you a little conflicted. George wanted to know every last detail while you tended to not tell him much about what you were up to, confident you could still take on the world, even if George was a little more doubtful. 

“Maybe going out so early in the morning wasn’t the brightest idea,” you reasoned, much to George’s delight, “I suppose I could have sorted out my cravings in a little bit of a better way.” 

“I know how you get when you’re craving though,” George mused, “if there’s one thing that I know about you it’s that you definitely get whatever you want when you’re craving.” 

You nodded in agreement with him, you were determined with everything that you did, but now you were more determined than ever to do as much as you could for as long as you possibly could too. 

“I don’t mean to constantly be on your case,” George told you, kissing against the top of your head. “I need to remind myself to trust you more, to know that you know how far you can push your body.” 

“I wouldn’t do something if I couldn’t,” you assured, “and as much as you might not believe me, if I need help then I will ask you for it George.” 

The corners of his mouth slowly turned up, “I know you will, and I’ll always be there whenever you need me to step in and help you out.” 

“That’s why you’re such a fantastic husband.” 

You weren’t oblivious to how lucky you were to have George by your side doing absolutely anything that you needed. He was beyond excited to have a baby, wanting to do as much as he could to help both you and the baby out, maybe sometimes a little too much, although you knew George always meant well. 

“I draw the line at three in the morning,” George then spoke up, sending you a knowing glance. “It’s dark outside and you can’t see where you’re going. No craving can be as important as keeping you safe in conditions like that.” 

“I was driving and my lights were on.” 

“Still,” George sniggered, dismissing your protests. “From now on if you need anything in the night then you can shake and kick me awake, regardless of how sleepy I might look beside you.” 

Your eyebrows raised as George spoke, “I can kick you?” 

“That’s the bit you focus on,” George grumbled, rolling his eyes at you as you threw your crisp packet into the bin. “You got anything else in there, I’m hungry now after all the energy I’ve just exerted panicking for you.” 

“Are you pregnant and craving?” You asked him as his head shook. “In that case then you get nothing, these are mine and mine only.” 

You reached forwards and opened up the packet of sweets that you’d bought, taking one out. Luckily for George you reached across and popped one of the sweets into his mouth, much to his delight. You leant back against his chest as you started tucking in, his arm wrapping around you. 

Despite the way his heart had raced just a few minutes earlier, it was a lot calmer as George noticed the content smile now on your face. He knew that pregnancy was far from easy for you, trying his best to understand your mood and emotions as much as he could. 

“Maybe we should stock up on some of the things you crave,” George suggested, watching your eyes light up. “You know like how people how emergency rations; we could have emergency cravings.” 

“That might not be the worst idea,” you agreed, “but only if you agree that they’re for my cravings and not for you to keep tucking into.” 

“You know what my appetite is like, when there’s food in front of me then I’m probably going to eat it.” 

“Think of it like this, would you deny your child food if you ate the food that is kept in the cupboard for them?” 

“Oh wow, now that is the ultimate guilt trip.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[stylesispunk]

"Did the love affair maim you too?" | Part iv

Joel Miller x f!reader

previous part | next part

chapter summary: After almost losing you, Joel does everything he can to get you back.

w.c: 14k (idk why all chapters are this long, sorry this is a filler chapter)

warnings: angst, mentions of blood, feelings of cheating, reader cries a lot, miscommunication, fluff, and poorly written smut. No proofreading, sorry.

a/n: chapter four was supposed to be the last one but I keep writing many words. Thank you so much for the love you have shown to this story so far, you will finally see the light in this chapter, so much love for you. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌.

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Joel’s heart hasn’t been beating this rapidly since that night.

Running desperately behind Tommy as they made their way back through the darkened woods, moving as quickly as they could while still being careful not to jostle you too much.

He could still feel the warmth of your skin irradiating his hands as the rest of the world around him felt distant, blurred by the sole focus on keeping you alive. Every breath you took, every faint whisper of your voice, was a reminder that you were still here, still fighting.

Tommy’s own fear was evident in the urgency of his movements. He kept glancing back at his older brother with you on his arms. The silence between the two of them felt heavy, filled with the unspoken dread of what might happen if they didn’t make it back to Jackson in time.

Tommy feared what might be the consequences for him if you wouldn’t make out alive of this.

The guilty.

The regret.

The madness.

The what if.

When the lights of Jackson came into view, Tommy felt like breathing again. Looking behind him, if he could see the same light on Joel’s face, he only saw his brother's fastness of pace.

As they approached the gates, Tommy called out to the guards, who quickly opened the gates for them, their faces showing shock and concern as they saw the state you were in.

Your clothes were dripping in blood, and Joel’s didn’t know if that was all yours at this time.

He was terrified.

“Get the infirmary ready!” Tommy shouted as they hurried through the gates, his voice commanding and urgent. The guards and townspeople quickly sprang into action, clearing a path and rushing ahead to prepare for your arrival.

Joel didn’t let go of you, even as they reached the infirmary. He carried you inside, his arms trembling from the effort but refusing to let go. Dr. Ramirez was already there, Maria with her, her face pale with worry as she saw you in that state.

“Get her on the table,” Dr. Ramirez instructed, moving quickly to clear the space as the other doctor joined her. Joel reluctantly laid you down, his hands hovering over you as if afraid to leave your side.

“We need space to work,” Dr. Ramirez said gently but firmly, placing a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “You need to step back.”

Joel looked like he was about to argue, his eyes locked on your now pale face, but Tommy stepped in, guiding him away from the table. “Let them do their job, Joel,” he said quietly, his voice laced with his own anxiety. “They’ll take care of her.”

Joel stood there, his heart pounding as he watched the medics swarm around you, their hands moving swiftly as they assessed your injuries and began to save your life. He felt helpless, every instinct screaming at him to protect you, but all he could do was stand there and wait, praying that you would pull through.

Maria approached Joel, her face etched with concern. “She’s strong, Joel,” she said softly, trying to offer some comfort. “She’ll get through this.”

But Joel could only nod numbly, his eyes never leaving your still form as the medics worked to save your life. The weight of everything he had almost lost bore down on him, and all he could do was hope that it wasn’t too late.

In the midst of the chaos, as the medics worked quickly and urgently around you, you reached out with a trembling hand, searching for something familiar, something to anchor you in the middle of the pain and fear you felt. Your fingers brushed against Joel’s hand, and you gripped it tightly, as if holding on for dear life.

Joel’s breath caught in his throat as he felt your touch. He immediately clasped your hand in both of his, his grip firm yet gentle, like he was afraid to hurt you but even more afraid to let go.

“I’m here,” he whispered, leaning closer to you, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m right here, sunshine. I’m not going anywhere.”

The medics continued to work, their hands moving with practiced efficiency, but for a moment, everything else faded away. It was just you and Joel, connected by that small, desperate touch.

Your eyes fluttered open, just barely, and you looked up at him, your gaze clouded with pain. “Joel…”

“Shh, don’t talk,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a soothing motion. “Save your strength. Just keep holding on, okay?”

You nodded weakly, your grip on his hand tightening for a brief moment before your strength waned again. But you didn’t let go, and neither did he.

In that moment, as the medics fought to save your life, Joel realized just how deeply he cared for you. The thought of losing you was unbearable, and he silently vowed to do whatever it took to make sure you made it through this.

Tommy stood nearby, watching the scene unfold with a heavy heart, understanding the depth of his brother's feelings without a word being spoken. He placed a hand on Joel’s shoulder, offering silent support as they both stood vigil, waiting for the moment when the worst would pass and you could finally be safe again.

"Hold her hand," Dr. Ramirez instructed, knowing that the pain would be intense as she began to stitch your wound. "She’s going to need you to keep her grounded."

Joel didn’t need to be told twice. He tightened his grip on your hand, leaning in closer so you could feel his presence and hear his voice. "I’m right here," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You hold on to me, okay?"

You nodded weakly, your face pale and glistening with sweat. The pain was unbearable—a searing, white-hot agony that tore through your body as the doctor prepared to stitch the wound. You gritted your teeth, but as soon as the needle pierced your skin, a scream tore from your throat, raw and desperate.

Joel winced, his heart shattering at the sound of your pain, but he didn’t let go. He squeezed your hand tighter, his other hand brushing your hair back from your face in a comforting gesture. "I know it hurts, sunshine, I know," he murmured, his voice steady even though he was breaking inside. "But you’ve got to hold on. Just a little longer, okay?"

Dr. Ramirez worked quickly, her hands steady and sure as she stitched your wound, but the pain was relentless. Each stitch felt like fire, and you cried out again, your body writhing involuntarily on the table.

"Look at me," Joel urged, his voice a lifeline in the sea of pain. "Keep your eyes on me. I’m not letting go."

Your gaze found his, your eyes wide and filled with tears, but you focused on him—on the sound of his voice, on the feel of his hand in yours. It was the only thing that kept you from losing yourself in the agony.

"That’s it," he whispered, his thumb brushing soothing circles on the back of your hand. "You’re doing so good. Just a little bit longer, and this’ll all be over."

Tears slipped from the corners of your eyes, the pain overwhelming, but you clung to his hand like a lifeline. His voice and his touch were the only things keeping you grounded, and you held on with everything you had.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the doctor tied off the last stitch and stepped back, her expression one of relief. "We’re done," she said softly, wiping her hands on a towel. “We need to keep her wound from an infection.”

Joel let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his eyes never leaving yours. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You did it, sunshine," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of pride and relief. "You’re going to be okay."

The pain was still there, a dull, throbbing ache, but as the worst of it began to ebb away, you felt a wave of exhaustion wash over you. You managed a small, tired smile up at Joel, your eyes heavy with the need for rest.

"Stay with me," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Don’t leave me."

"Never," Joel promised, his voice choked with emotion. "I’m not going anywhere."

As the last stitch was secured, the intense pain began to subside, leaving you drained and trembling. The doctor stepped back, wiping her hands as she gave a nod of reassurance to Joel.

"You’re going to be alright," she said softly, her voice a gentle balm in the quiet room. "Get some rest now. You need it."

You felt the weight of exhaustion pulling you down, your eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment. The pain had dulled to a steady throb, and your body, finally allowed a reprieve, craved the relief of sleep.

"Stay with me," you whispered again, your voice barely above a murmur as you looked up at Joel. Your grip on his hand loosened, not out of fear, but out of sheer weariness.

"I’m right here," Joel replied, his voice thick with emotion as he leaned closer. "I’m not going anywhere, sunshine. You rest now."

You managed a faint smile, comforted by his presence, and let your eyes drift shut. The world around you began to fade, the sounds of the infirmary growing distant as sleep took hold.

Joel watched as your breathing slowed, your face relaxing into a peaceful expression. He kept his hand in yours, even as your grip slackened completely, his thumb gently brushing against your skin.

He stayed by your side, his own heart finally starting to calm, as he whispered, "I’ve got you, and I’m not letting go. Never again."

Joel sat by your side, his fingers gently brushing the strands of hair away from your face. His touch was tender, almost reverent, as if he were afraid you might break under his hands. He watched your chest rise and fall with each breath, the steady rhythm a small comfort after the chaos of the night.

His thumb traced the line of your jaw, his eyes never leaving your face. He took in every detail—the curve of your lips, the way your lashes rested softly against your cheeks, the slight furrow in your brow that lingered even in sleep. It was as if he were memorizing you, committing this moment to memory, a reminder that you were here, alive, and safe.

Lost in his thoughts, Joel didn’t hear Tommy approach until his brother’s voice broke through the silence.

“Joel,” Tommy said softly, placing a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “You should get some rest. She’s gonna be fine. The doc said so.”

Joel didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still fixed on you. He knew Tommy was right, knew that he needed sleep, but the thought of leaving you, even for a moment, felt impossible.

“I can’t,” Joel finally murmured, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. “I can’t leave her, Tommy. Not after everything…”

Tommy sighed, his heart aching for his brother. He could see the toll the night had taken on Joel—the worry etched into his face, the exhaustion weighing down his shoulders. He crouched down beside him, trying to meet Joel’s gaze.

“I know you’re scared,” Tommy said quietly. “But she’s strong. She made it through, and she’ll keep fighting. But you—you need to take care of yourself too, Joel. You can’t help her if you’re running on empty.”

Joel finally tore his eyes away from you, looking at Tommy with a mixture of gratitude and stubbornness. “I just… I can’t lose her, Tommy,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t think I could survive it.”

Tommy’s expression softened, understanding the depth of Joel’s fear. He squeezed his brother’s shoulder, offering a small, reassuring smile. “You won’t lose her, Joel. She’s not going anywhere. But you need to be strong for her, and that means getting some rest. I’ll stay here with her. I’ll wake you if anything changes.”

Joel hesitated, his gaze flickering back to you. The thought of leaving, even just to lie down, felt wrong. But he knew Tommy was right; he was barely holding on, and you needed him to be strong.

Joel shook his head, a determined look in his eyes. "No, Tommy," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I'm staying with her."

Tommy opened his mouth to protest, but the look on Joel's face stopped him. There was a quiet resolve in Joel's expression, a fierce protectiveness that Tommy knew all too well. He had seen it before, back when Joel would do anything to keep the people he cared about safe. And now, with you lying there so vulnerable, Tommy knew there was no convincing his brother to leave your side.

"Alright," Tommy finally said, his tone gentle. "But you need to rest too, Joel. Even just for a little while. I’ll be here, watching over both of you.”

Joel didn’t respond, his focus entirely on you as you slept. His thumb continued to trace soothing patterns on the back of your hand, grounding himself in the simple act of holding on to you. He could see the tension slowly easing from your features, the pain and exhaustion giving way to a deeper, more peaceful sleep.

Tommy sighed softly, pulling up a chair beside Joel. “I’ll stay right here,” he promised, his voice low. “You don’t have to worry about anything. We’re all here for you and for her.”

Joel nodded, acknowledging his brother’s presence, but he didn’t take his eyes off you. He couldn’t. The thought of closing his eyes, even for a second, felt impossible. What if you needed him? What if something happened while he wasn’t watching?

He didn’t want to miss a thing.

So he stayed, his hand never leaving yours, his eyes tracing the familiar contours of your face as if to reassure himself that you were still there, still breathing, still alive. The fear that had gripped him so tightly was still there, but it was tempered by the warmth of your hand in his, the steady rhythm of your breath, and the quiet strength that you always seemed to carry.

“Get some rest, Joel,” Tommy urged quietly, but Joel simply shook his head.

“I’m fine,” Joel murmured, though the exhaustion in his voice was evident. “I just need to be here.”

Tommy watched his brother for a moment, seeing the depth of love and fear in Joel’s eyes. He knew better than to push. Joel would rest when he was ready, and not a moment before. So, instead, Tommy settled into his chair, keeping watch alongside his brother, the two of them united in their silent vigil over you.

And as the hours passed, Joel remained by your side, his hand wrapped around yours, his gaze never wavering. Because in that moment, nothing mattered more to him than being there for you, making sure you knew that no matter what, he would always be there, holding on, and never letting go.

As the first light of dawn filtered through the small window of the infirmary, you slowly began to stir. The world around you was a haze, the remnants of pain and exhaustion still weighing heavily on your body. You blinked slowly, your vision clearing enough to make out the room around you.

It took you a moment to realize that Joel was there, his head resting on your chest, his arms wrapped protectively around you. He was asleep; his face relaxed in a way that you hadn’t seen in a long time. The sight of him like this, vulnerable and close, brought a faint smile to your lips despite the weakness that still coursed through your body.

You tried to lift your hand to touch him, to reassure yourself that this moment was real, but even that small movement felt like too much. Your body was still recovering, every muscle aching, every breath a reminder of the ordeal you had been through.

“Joel,” you whispered, your voice hoarse and barely audible.

He didn’t stir at first, his breathing steady and deep, his exhaustion evident in the way he clung to you even in sleep. But as you tried again, your fingers brushing lightly against his hair, he began to wake, his body tensing as he slowly lifted his head.

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was nothing but relief in his expression, a flood of emotion that he couldn’t quite hide. He sat up quickly, his hand instinctively moving to check your bandages to make sure you were really okay.

“You’re awake,” he said softly, his voice thick with sleep and something deeper, something that made your heart ache.

You nodded weakly, your throat too dry to speak again. But your eyes said everything—how grateful you were that he was there, how much it meant to you to wake up and find him by your side.

Joel reached for a cup of water on the bedside table, carefully helping you take a few sips. “Easy,” he murmured, his touch gentle as he held the cup to your lips. “You need to take it slow.”

You did as he said, letting the cool water soothe your parched throat. When you had drunk enough, he set the cup aside and turned his full attention back to you, his hand resting on your shoulder as if he couldn’t bear to be apart from you.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” Joel said, his voice filled with regret. “I should have been awake when you needed me.”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the weakness that still gripped you. “You were here, Joel,” you whispered.

Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with so much emotion that it almost overwhelmed you. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary.

“You scared the hell out of me,” he admitted quietly, his voice trembling. “But you’re here. You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

You nodded again, your heart swelling with gratitude and something else, something deeper that you couldn’t quite put into words. You were too tired to say more, too weak to do anything but close your eyes and let the warmth of his presence wash over you.

As you drifted back into sleep, your eyes fluttering shut, Joel felt a jolt of fear surge through him. Your sudden stillness, the way your body relaxed completely, sent a wave of panic crashing over him. His heart pounded in his chest as he gently shook your shoulder, trying to wake you.

“Hey, hey, stay with me,” Joel urged, his voice thick with fear. “Don’t go to sleep again. What’s happening?”

He looked around frantically for someone, anyone, to help. His hands trembled as he touched your face, feeling the coolness of your skin. “Doc! Doc, get in here!” Joel’s voice was desperate, echoing through the infirmary as he called out for help.

Within moments, the doctor and a nurse rushed into the room, their expressions serious as they approached the bed. Joel reluctantly stepped back, his eyes never leaving your face, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts.

“What’s happening to her?” Joel demanded, his voice breaking with emotion as he watched the doctor check your pulse and examine your condition.

“She’s okay,” the doctor said calmly, sensing Joel’s distress. “Her body is just exhausted. She needs to rest. The sleep is a good sign—it means she’s healing.”

Joel’s heart rate started to slow, but the fear still clung to him, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. “But she just went limp,” he said, his voice still shaking. “I thought—”

The doctor placed a reassuring hand on Joel’s shoulder. “I understand. It’s scary, but I promise you, she’s stable. Her body needs time to recover, and sleep is the best thing for her right now.”

Joel let out a shaky breath, his eyes returning to your sleeping form. He slowly sank back into the chair beside your bed, his hand instinctively reaching for yours again. The fear was still there, lurking in the back of his mind, but the doctor’s words gave him some comfort.

“Just make sure she’s okay,” Joel whispered, his voice barely audible as he watched you sleep. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, not after everything that had happened.

The doctor nodded, giving Joel a reassuring pat on the shoulder before stepping back, leaving the room in the quiet of the early morning. The nurse adjusted your IV and checked your bandages, ensuring everything was in order before quietly exiting as well.

Joel stayed by your side, his hand never leaving yours as he watched you breathe, each rise and fall of your chest a small comfort to him. He leaned back in his chair, exhaustion finally catching up to him, but he refused to let himself sleep again.

He couldn’t lose you. Not now. Not ever.

That was the last time you opened your eyes.

For the past three days you had been lost in a slumber, healing. Perhaps from the internal wounds you had to recover yet from, the tiredness from your body, the emotional exhaustion you had been through, not only during that night but from the day Joel had appeared in your life.

And he hadn’t left your side.

For the past three days he had been sitting next to you, terrified of not being there the moment you would open your eyes.

He had made you a promise; he would never leave you again. As controlling as it sounded, he was afraid of letting you out of his sight. He was terrified of you never waking up again.

But he was mostly terrified of not being able to love you and show you he meant it.

He meant those three words the night he had made love to you.

Of course, his memories had come back the moment you almost left earth, as a reminder, perhaps, of how good you were to him.

He thought of Sarah, of how it was her who saved you to give her dad a chance to become the sweet man he once was.

For him, for you, and for the sake of a story he wanted to write.

The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn to keep out the harsh sunlight, allowing only a gentle glow to filter in. Joel sat by your bedside, his eyes heavy with exhaustion but unwilling to close. The past three days had been a blur—a mix of fear, hope, and unrelenting determination. He refused to let go of your hand, as if the physical connection would somehow anchor you to this world and keep you from slipping away.

Your breathing was steady, your face peaceful in sleep, but every time Joel looked at you, he was reminded of how close he had come to losing you. The thought of it made his heart clench.

For the past three days, he had been preparing for the moment you would open your eyes, knowing that when you did, everything would be different. He wanted to be ready, to be the man you deserved, to give you the love and life you both had been searching for.

So, he stayed by your side, his eyes never leaving you, waiting for the moment when you would wake up and see that he was there, just as he promised.

The quiet of the room was interrupted by the soft creak of the door as it opened. Joel’s attention snapped to the movement, his body instinctively tensing. When Lori stepped inside, his eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched so tightly that the muscles in his face visibly tightened.

Lori hesitated in the doorway, her eyes flickering between you and Joel. There was a hint of guilt in her expression and in the way she slipped into the room.

“Joel,” she began, her voice low, almost cautious.

Joel didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he slowly stood up, his hand still holding yours, as if to remind both Lori and himself who he was protecting. His gaze was icy, his anger barely contained.

“What are you doing here?” Joel’s voice was cold, a sharp contrast to the warmth he had shown you moments before.

Lori shifted uncomfortably, clearly sensing the tension. “I came to check on her,” she said, trying to keep her tone steady. “I wanted to see how she’s doing.”

“She’s not your concern,” Joel snapped, his words laced with bitterness. “You’ve done enough.”

Lori flinched at his harshness, but she didn’t back down. “I know I messed up, Joel. But I’m not here to make excuses. I just… I just needed to see for myself that she’s okay.”

Joel’s eyes flashed with anger. “You don’t get to care now,” he said through gritted teeth. “You left her out there to die, Lori. You made your choice.”

Lori’s expression faltered, the guilt finally breaking through her resolve. “I know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I can’t take back what I did. But I never wanted her to get hurt. I was just trying to protect everyone.”

“Protect?” Joel echoed, his voice rising in disbelief. “You call that protecting? You abandoned her. You put her life at risk to save your own skin. That’s not protecting. That’s cowardice.”

“Okay. You’re right. I wanted her death or out of our lives.” She said, clearly ashamed of her actions.

Joel’s face darkened, his eyes narrowing as Lori's confession hung in the air. The raw truth of her words sent a wave of cold fury through him, so intense that for a moment he couldn’t speak. His grip on the edge of the bed tightened until his knuckles turned white.

"You wanted her dead or gone?" Joel’s voice was low, barely more than a growl. Each word was laced with disbelief and anger. “And you think that makes it better? That somehow, admitting it makes what you did okay?”

Lori couldn’t meet his gaze, her shoulders slumping under the weight of her shame. “No, it doesn’t. I was wrong, Joel. I see that now. I was selfish, and I let my fear get the better of me. But I never really wanted this—her lying there like this. I just didn’t know what to do.”

Joel stepped closer to her, his posture rigid with anger. “You didn’t know what to do, so you decided to let her die? Is that your excuse? She trusted you, Lori. We all did. And you betrayed her.”

Lori flinched as if his words had physically struck her. “I never wanted it to go this far,” she murmured, tears welling up in her eyes.

“If you wanted revenge for how I ended things between us, you could hurt me, not her. She had nothing to do with all this mess.” He said, voice cracking.

Lori's eyes widened as Joel's words sank in, the reality of her actions hitting her like a punch to the gut. The tears she had been holding back finally spilled over, streaming down her face as she looked at Joel, her expression a mixture of regret and sorrow.

"I wasn’t thinking straight, Joel," she admitted, her voice trembling. "I was angry, hurt, and I lashed out in the worst way possible. But I swear, I never meant for her to get caught up in this. I was just so blinded by my own pain… I couldn’t see past it."

Joel shook his head, his own emotions a storm raging just beneath the surface. "You don’t get to hide behind your pain, Lori. We all have our demons, but what you did—what you almost cost me—it’s unforgivable."

“I know,” Lori whispered, her voice thick with guilt. “I let my anger control me, and I ended up hurting the person you care about most. I’m sorry, Joel. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I needed to say it. I was wrong, and I’ll live with that for the rest of my life.”

Joel’s jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "Sorry isn’t enough, Lori. Not for this. I almost lost her because of you. The only reason I’m standing here right now is because she fought like hell to survive. But what you did—" he broke off, his voice faltering as the weight of the situation threatened to overwhelm him.

Lori wiped at her tears, nodding slowly. "You’re right. There’s nothing I can say or do to fix this. But I want you to know that I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right, even if it means leaving Jackson. I can’t undo what I’ve done, but I can make sure it never happens again."

Joel stared at her, his heart aching with the knowledge that the person who had once been a close ally had become a source of such deep betrayal. Finally, he let out a long, weary sigh. "I don’t care what you do, Lori. Whether you stay or go, it doesn’t matter to me. Just… stay away from her. If you really want to make amends, you stay out of her life."

Lori nodded, her shoulders slumping in defeat, turning and leaving the room, her footsteps echoing softly in the silence. Joel watched her go, his heart heavy with a mix of anger, sadness, and a deep, unshakeable fear of what might have happened if he hadn’t found you in time.

As the door clicked shut, Joel’s gaze returned to you, lying so still and fragile in the bed. The anger that had fueled him moments ago began to fade, replaced by an overwhelming need to protect you, to never let anything come between you again.

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, his hand lingering on your cheek. "I’m still here, sunshine," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "And I’m not going anywhere.”

A few minute later, Dr. Ramirez entered the room quietly, her presence calm and reassuring. She approached the bedside with practiced ease, her eyes quickly scanning your vitals before she looked over at Joel. His hand was still resting on your cheek, and he didn’t move as the doctor began her examination.

"She’s stable," Dr. Ramirez said softly after a moment, her tone measured but gentle. "The worst is behind her now. But she needs time, Joel.

Joel nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. "She’s been through hell," he muttered, his voice rough with the strain of the last few days. "I just… I just want her to wake up, to be okay."

Dr. Ramirez paused, her gaze softening as she looked at him. "I understand how hard this is for you. But you need to take care of yourself too, Joel. She’s going to need you when she wakes up, and you’ll be no good to her if you’re running on empty."

Joel finally tore his eyes away from you to meet Dr. Ramirez’s gaze. "I’m fine," he insisted, though the exhaustion etched into his features told a different story.

Dr. Ramirez sighed, folding her arms across her chest. "You’re not fine. You’ve been sitting here for days, barely eating or sleeping. She’s going to need you at your best, Joel. You can’t help her if you don’t take care of yourself."

Joel clenched his jaw, his gaze dropping back to you. "I can’t leave her," he said quietly, his voice laced with a deep-seated fear. "What if she wakes up and I’m not here? What if she needs me and I’m not…"

"She’s going to need you," Dr. Ramirez interrupted gently, "but she’s also going to need you strong. Trust me, Joel. We’ll take good care of her while you rest. Just a few hours, get something to eat, maybe sleep a little. It doesn’t mean you’re abandoning her."

Joel hesitated, torn between his overwhelming need to stay by your side and the doctor’s rational advice. Finally, he sighed, a long, weary exhale that seemed to deflate him. "Just a few hours," he agreed reluctantly. "But I’m not going far."

Dr. Ramirez gave him a small, understanding smile. "That’s all I’m asking. Go get some rest, Joel. She’ll be here when you get back, I promise."

Joel looked at you one last time, his thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek before he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "I’ll be back soon," he whispered, his voice filled with quiet determination.

The sun was just beginning to set, casting a warm, golden hue over the sprawling landscape before you. The two of you had been out on patrol for hours, the silence between you heavy and tense, as it often was. Ever since Joel had been assigned as your partner, the air was thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. You didn’t see eye to eye on much, and every patrol seemed like a test of patience.

But this time, something was different. Maybe it was the way the light hit the mountains in the distance, or the rare moment of peace that seemed to settle over the world, but you found yourself drawn to the view, momentarily forgetting the usual friction between you.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, more to yourself than to Joel. Your eyes were fixed on the horizon, the colors of the sunset reflecting in them, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Joel, who had been keeping watch as usual, turned his head slightly at the sound of your voice. He followed your gaze to the landscape, expecting to feel the same cold detachment he always did, the necessity to focus on the mission, on survival.

But when he looked, his eyes didn’t linger on the mountains or the sky. Instead, they stayed on you. The way the fading light caught in your hair, the way your expression softened as you took in the beauty of the scene.

“Yeah,” he agreed, his voice low and uncharacteristically gentle. For once, there was no edge to his tone, no underlying frustration or impatience. Just quiet, genuine agreement.

You turned to look at him, surprised to hear him agreeing with you for once. “Really?” you asked, a hint of skepticism in your voice. “You think so?”

He nodded slowly, his eyes meeting yours for a moment longer than usual. “Yeah,” he repeated, his gaze steady, but there was something unspoken in his eyes, something that caught you off guard. “It’s… it’s beautiful.”

For a brief moment, the tension between you melted away, replaced by something warmer, something almost tender. It was fleeting, barely lasting more than a few heartbeats, but it was enough to make your chest tighten.

Joel quickly looked away, clearing his throat as if to dispel the moment. “We should get moving,” he muttered, his usual gruffness returning as he adjusted the strap on his rifle.

“Right,” you agreed, returning to the task at hand. But as you resumed your patrol, the moment lingered in the back of your mind, and you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was more to Joel than you had thought.

Joel had been dreaming of you in his hours of sleep, the fleeting images pulling him into memories that felt too real. In his dreams, you weren’t lying in a bed, fighting to recover; you were beside him, alive and vibrant, with that same determined fire in your eyes that had always made him admire you, even when the two of you clashed.

In one dream, the two of you were back on patrol, your laughter echoing in the open air as you teased him about something trivial, your voice full of life. In another, you were at Jackson, sitting by the fireplace, your eyes locked onto his as you talked about your hopes for the future—a future he hadn’t dared to hope for until you came into his life.

But the dreams always ended the same way. You would start to fade, your voice growing distant, your figure slipping away from him no matter how hard he tried to hold on. He would reach out for you, only to find his arms empty, the warmth of your presence replaced by a cold, haunting emptiness.

And then, he would wake up, his heart pounding in his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His eyes would immediately dart to you, lying so still in the bed, and he would lean in close, needing to hear the soft sound of your breathing to reassure himself that you were still with him.

The dreams left him feeling raw and exposed, the fear of losing you gnawing at him even in sleep. He couldn’t shake the image of you slipping away, couldn’t rid himself of the overwhelming sense of dread that had taken root in his heart.

Joel had been trying to shake off the remnants of his dreams as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, splashing cold water on his face. He rubbed his eyes, hoping to scrub away the exhaustion that clung to him. After three days of barely leaving your side, he had finally allowed himself a brief moment to freshen up, his mind still heavy with the images of his dreams.

The water did little to wash away the lingering fear, but he steeled himself, forcing his hands to stop trembling. He couldn’t afford to be weak now—not when you needed him to be strong. He dried his face, straightened his shirt, and took a deep breath before heading back to the infirmary.

As he approached the door, the sound of soft laughter reached his ears. It was Ellie’s voice, her words light and teasing, and he could hear you responding, your voice soft but undeniably awake. A small, relieved smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. You were awake. You were okay.

But when he stepped into the room, his heart lifting at the sight of you, his smile faltered. Ellie was perched on the edge of your bed, animatedly talking about something, her hands moving in excited gestures. And you—you were smiling at her, a faint but genuine smile that lit up your face in a way he hadn’t seen in days.

For a moment, he just stood there, watching the two of you. The sight of you smiling, your eyes bright with life, should have filled him with relief. But when your eyes flickered up to meet his, the smile faded from your lips, replaced by an expression he couldn’t quite read.

The air between you shifted, the lightness that had been in the room moments ago dissipating as the tension settled in its place. Ellie, oblivious to the change, continued to talk, but Joel’s attention was locked on you, searching your face for any hint of what you were feeling.

He took a tentative step forward, his hand twitching at his side as if he wanted to reach out to you, but something held him back. The way your smile had disappeared, the way you looked at him now with that guarded expression—it made him hesitate.

“Hey,” he finally said, his voice rougher than he intended. He tried to soften it, to push past the wall that seemed to have sprung up between you in those few seconds. “You’re awake.”

Ellie, noticing the shift in the room, glanced between the two of you before quickly excusing herself. “I’ll let you guys talk,” she said, shooting you a small smile before slipping out of the room.

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving just the two of you in the room. The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating, and Joel struggled to find the right words to say.

“You’re looking better,” he finally said, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. He took another step closer, his eyes scanning your face for any sign that you were in pain. “How are you feeling?”

You looked down at your hands, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket covering you.

“Better,” you replied, your voice soft and devoid of the warmth he had just heard when you were talking to Ellie.

Joel felt a pang in his chest at the distance in your tone, the way you seemed to be pulling away from him even though you were right there in front of him. He wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap that had opened up between you, but he didn’t know how.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, the words heavy with everything he hadn’t yet had the chance to say. But your reaction—or lack thereof—kept him from saying more.

You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed on the blanket in your lap, your hands still twisting the fabric. It was as if the connection between you had been severed, and Joel couldn’t figure out how to mend it.

He had spent three days by your side, terrified of losing you, and now that you were awake, he was faced with the fear that he had lost you in a different way. The warmth he had clung to, the hope he had nurtured while you were unconscious, now felt like it had been swept away by a cold, unrelenting storm.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you," Joel finally said, the words heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. He didn’t know what else to say, how to bridge the gap that had formed between you.

You looked up at him then, your eyes searching his, and for a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of the connection you once had. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by something colder, something that made him feel as if the ground was slipping out from under him.

"No, you're not," you replied, your voice steady but edged with an emotion he couldn’t quite place. "You feel guilty."

Joel flinched at your words, but he couldn’t deny them. Guilt had been gnawing at him since the moment he had found you, bleeding and broken, on that floor. He had replayed every moment in his mind, every decision he had made, every step he had taken, wondering if there was something—anything—he could have done differently to prevent this.

"I do," he admitted, his voice raw. "I feel guilty because I should’ve been there. I should’ve protected you. But I wasn’t, and you almost…"

He couldn’t finish the sentence, the thought of what could have happened too much to bear.

"But that’s not the same as being sorry," you said, your tone flat, as if you were trying to keep your emotions in check. "You’re not sorry that it happened; you’re just sorry that you feel this way."

Joel felt like the air had been knocked out of him. He had spent days agonizing over you, terrified of losing you, and now, faced with your coldness, he didn’t know what to do.

"I am sorry," he insisted, though even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t enough. It didn’t capture the depth of his regret, the overwhelming sorrow he felt for what you had gone through. "I’m sorry for all of it."

 “I know what Lori was doing,” you continued, your voice steady but laced with pain. “She wanted me gone, and it’s because of something you caused.”

Joel felt the weight of his guilt press down on him even harder. He had suspected Lori’s intentions, had seen the tension between the two of you, but he hadn’t fully understood the depth of her animosity. Now, hearing it from you, he realized just how much he had failed to protect you—not just physically, but emotionally as well.

“I never wanted you to get caught up in that,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought… I… I didn’t see how far she’d go. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t change what happened,” you replied, your eyes meeting his, filled with a mixture of hurt and anger. “I didn’t deserve to pay for your mistakes, Joel”

“Are you blaming me for this?” Joel asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and hurt. He didn’t want to let anger take over, but the disappointment and frustration were clear in his tone. He had come to terms with his own guilt, but hearing you lay the blame at his feet was like reopening a wound he thought he was beginning to heal.

You met his gaze, your eyes sharp with the pain of what you had endured. “I’m not blaming you for everything,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “But I can’t ignore the fact that your choices put me in danger.

Joel’s expression softened, the weight of your words hitting him like a blow. He knew you were right, but hearing it from you, seeing the pain in your eyes, made it all the more real. “I never wanted you to get hurt,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “If I could take it all back, I would.”

“But you can’t,” you said, your voice firm despite the emotion in your eyes. “And now we’re here, dealing with the consequences.”

The room felt heavy with the tension between you, the silence stretching as both of you struggled to find the right words. Joel’s heart ached with the realization that no matter how much he wished he could go back and change things, the damage had been done.

“I didn’t deserve this, Joel,” you continued, your voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t deserve to be caught in the middle of whatever you and Lori had going on. I was just… I was just trying to survive and help.”

Joel took a step closer, his hand reaching out as if to touch you, but he hesitated, unsure if you would welcome the gesture. “I know,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “And I know it’s going to take time for you to feel safe again.”

You looked at him, your heart conflicted. The fear of being hurt again loomed large, but there was also a part of you that wanted to believe him, to trust that he could be the man he promised to be.

“I’m tired” you said finally, your voice softer now.

Joel’s heart clenched at your words. The weariness in your voice was palpable, not just from the physical toll of your injuries but from the emotional exhaustion that had been building for so long. He could see it in your eyes, the way they held a mixture of pain, fear, and uncertainty.

“I know you are,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m tired too.”

He wanted to close the distance between you, to offer some kind of comfort, but he knew that it wasn’t just physical closeness you needed. It was reassurance, a reason to believe that things could be different, that he could be different.

“You don’t have to decide anything right now,” Joel continued, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what you were feeling. “But I’m here. I’ll stay right here, as long as you need just as I promise.”

You looked at him, feeling the weight of his words. There was a sincerity in his gaze that made your heart ache, but the fear of letting him in again, of being vulnerable, was still there, holding you back.

Just as you were about to respond, the door creaked open, and Tommy stepped into the room, his presence a stark contrast to the heavy conversation that had just taken place. He glanced between you and Joel, sensing the tension in the air. His usually easygoing demeanor was replaced by a look of concern.

“Hey,” Tommy said softly, his voice breaking the silence. “How are you holding up?”

You offered him a weak smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’m… I’m okay,” you replied, though the truth was far more complicated.

Tommy nodded, his gaze shifting to Joel. There was a silent exchange between the two brothers, a shared understanding that didn’t need words. Tommy could see the toll the past few days had taken on both of you, and he knew how much Joel was struggling to keep it together.

“I thought I’d bring you some food,” Tommy said, holding up a thermos. “Figured you could be hungry.”

Joel managed a small, grateful smile, though the weight of your conversation still hung heavy in the room. “Thanks,” he murmured, taking the tray from Tommy’s outstretched hand.

Tommy lingered for a moment, his eyes flicking back to you. “If you need anything… anything at all, just let me know, alright?”

You nodded, appreciating the offer but feeling too drained to respond with more than a simple acknowledgment.

Tommy hesitated, as if he wanted to say more but wasn’t sure if it was his place. Finally, he clapped a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “Take care of her,” he said quietly, the words carrying a deeper meaning than just a simple request.

Joel nodded, his grip tightening on the thermos. “I will,” he promised, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him.

With one last look at you, Tommy turned and left the room, leaving you and Joel alone once more. The door closed softly behind him, and the silence that followed was almost deafening.

You glanced at Joel, the conflict in your heart still unresolved. His presence was both a comfort and a reminder of everything that had happened, of the pain you were still trying to process.

“Thank you” you managed to say, “For looking for me that night.”

Joel's eyes softened at your words, though the tension in his shoulders remained. He nodded, the weight of the moment heavy between you. "I’d do it again," he replied, his voice quiet but firm. "A thousand times over if I had to."

You looked down, your fingers nervously picking at the blanket draped over you. "I know I was angry," you admitted, the words coming out in a rush. "And I still am, but… I also know you saved my life. I don’t want to ignore that."

He stepped closer, hesitating for just a moment before sitting down on the edge of the bed. "You don’t have to thank me," he said gently. "I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t come for you. You mean too much to me."

His words hung in the air, and you could feel the sincerity in them, but they also reminded you of the complicated feelings you were still trying to untangle. "I’m just… trying to figure out how to move forward from here," you confessed, meeting his gaze.

Joel reached out, his hand hovering over yours for a moment before he finally took it, his grip warm and reassuring. “You know, I spent the last days beside you all the time, hoping to see your eyes opening again, I can wait a little bit more for you.” He said, smiling softly at you.

Joel's words were like a balm to the ache in your heart, the sincerity in his smile melting some of the walls you'd built around yourself. His hand, warm and steady around yours, was a reminder of the care and dedication he had towards you.

A few days later, you were finally released from the infirmary, but Dr. Ramirez had been clear about the need to rest and take things slow. Your body was still recovering, and any strenuous activity could set you back. Joel had been by your side when Dr. Ramirez gave the instructions, and you could feel his protective gaze on you the entire time, as if he was silently vowing to ensure you followed every word.

Back at your house in Jackson, the atmosphere was different. The air felt lighter, more relaxed, but there was also an unspoken tension between you and Joel. The words you had exchanged in the infirmary still lingered, and both of you were treading carefully, not wanting to disrupt the fragile peace that had settled.

As you settled into the couch, Joel was close by, hovering just enough to make sure you were comfortable but giving you space to breathe. His presence was comforting, yet it also reminded you of the complicated feelings you were still working through.

"Do you need anything?" Joel asked, his voice gentle as he watched you with concern.

You shook your head, offering him a small smile. "No, I’m okay. Just trying to adjust to being home again."

He nodded, his eyes softening as he took a seat on the chair across from you. "Take your time. You’ve been through a lot."

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was charged with the weight of unspoken thoughts. You could feel Joel’s eyes on you, as if he was searching for something, waiting for you to say what was on your mind.

Finally, you broke the silence. "Joel… about what I said before, about trying to figure things out…"

He leaned forward slightly, his attention fully on you. "You don’t have to explain, sunshine. I get it. You’ve got a lot to process."

You nodded, grateful for his understanding. "I do. But I want to ask you to do something.”

Joel’s brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "What is it?"

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before you continued. "I want you to talk to Lori."

The moment her name left your lips, you saw Joel’s expression darken, his posture stiffening. "Talk to Lori? After everything she did to you? Why the hell would I do that?"

You could hear the defensiveness in his voice, the way his jaw clenched as if he was trying to hold back a torrent of emotions.

"Joel, please," you said, your voice calm but firm. "I need you to do this for me. I’m not asking you toy forgive her or make excuses for what she did. It’s about getting closure.”

His eyes searched yours, a storm of emotions swirling behind them. "Closure? How is talking to her going to give you closure? She nearly got you killed. I don’t want her anywhere near you."

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles. "I know you’re angry. I am too. But carrying this anger, this bitterness…but before you met me, she was the one you found- “

“It was nothing serious” he interrupted.

“Even if it was just that, Joel. She still deserves an apology from you.”

Joel's eyes narrowed slightly, the defensiveness in his posture only growing stronger. "An apology? After what she did to you, you want me to apologize to her?"

You nodded, your grip on his arm tightening slightly. "Yes, Joel. She made a terrible mistake, but that doesn’t change the fact that you hurt her too. She was in your life before I was, and even if it wasn’t serious, it clearly meant something to her. And when things ended between you two, it left her with feelings she didn’t know how to handle."

He looked away, his jaw clenching as he processed your words. "I never meant for any of this to happen," he muttered, the frustration evident in his voice.

"I know that," you replied softly. "But maybe that’s why it’s even more important that you talk to her. She made a mistake, a huge one, but she was reacting out of hurt and anger. And maybe, just maybe, hearing an apology from you could help her start to heal too."

Joel’s shoulders slumped, the fight seeming to drain out of him. He looked back at you, his expression conflicted. "I don’t know if I can do that," he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "Apologizing… it feels like I’m excusing what she did, and I can’t do that."

Joel took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he nodded. "Alright," he finally said, his voice low. "I’ll talk to her. I’ll apologize. But I’m doing it for you, because I want to make things right with you."

You gave him a small, grateful smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Thank you, Joel. That’s all I’m asking."

He reached out, taking your hand in his and squeezing it gently. "I just hope this helps us find some peace," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of hope. "Because I don’t want to lose you."

Joel wasn’t looking forward to the conversation with Lori, but he knew it was necessary. As he approached her in the stables, where she was tending to the horses, he felt the weight of what you’d asked him to do pressing on his shoulders. The earthy scent of hay and the soft sounds of the horses moving around only added to the heaviness in his chest. He took a deep breath and walked over; his steps heavy with uncertainty.

“Lori,” he called out softly, causing her to look up from grooming a horse. Her expression was unreadable, a mix of emotions flickering across her face as she saw him.

“Joel,” she replied, setting the brush down. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to talk,” he said, his voice steady but laced with tension. “About everything that happened.”

Lori’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if she was bracing herself for whatever he was about to say. “Go on, then.”

Joel hesitated for a moment before he spoke. “I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry. I know things between us ended badly, and I never meant for you to get hurt. What happened with her… it’s not all your fault. I had a part in it too.”

Lori’s expression softened, a look of surprise crossing her features. “You’re apologizing?” she asked, almost as if she couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah,” Joel admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I am. I messed up, and I didn’t see how much you were hurting until it was too late. I should have handled things better, and I’m sorry for the pain it caused you.”

Lori looked at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face as if trying to gauge his sincerity. Finally, she let out a sigh, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “I appreciate that, Joel,” she said quietly. “I’ve been carrying a lot of anger, and maybe… maybe I was looking for someone to blame. But hearing you say this… it helps.”

Joel nodded, relieved that the conversation seemed to be going in a positive direction. “I just want to put all this behind us,” he said. “For everyone’s sake.”

Lori stepped closer, her expression softening further. “I want that too,” she murmured, reaching up to touch his arm. “And… I’m sorry too, for everything.”

Before Joel could react, Lori leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. But the kiss lingered, her lips brushing dangerously close to the corner of his mouth. He stiffened, pulling back slightly, but not before the moment had passed.

“Lori…” he started, his voice filled with warning, but his words were cut off as he saw something behind her.

You stood at the entrance to the stables, your expression one of disappointment and hurt. You hadn’t meant to interrupt, but you’d come looking for Joel, wanting to check in on how the conversation was going. Instead, you found yourself witnessing a moment that twisted the knife in your heart.

Joel immediately took a step back from Lori, his eyes wide with panic as he realized you had seen the kiss. “It’s not what it looks like,” he called out, his voice desperate to reach you.

But you turned on your heel and walked away, the sting of what you’d just seen too much to bear. You didn’t want to hear his explanation; the image of Lori’s lips so close to his was enough to leave you feeling betrayed.

Joel cursed under his breath, quickly following after you, but the damage was done.

Joel raced after you, his heart pounding as he tried to close the distance. “Wait, please!” he called out, his voice echoing through the quiet of the stables and beyond.

You didn’t slow down, your steps quick and determined as you headed for the path leading away from the stables. The pain of what you’d seen burned too fiercely for you to face him right now. The image of Lori’s kiss and the confusion it brought was overwhelming.

Joel caught up to you, grabbing your arm gently but firmly. “Just… just let me explain,” he said, his breath coming in heavy gasps. “I didn’t want her to do that, I swear.”

You pulled your arm away from him, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Joel, I’m tired of the explanations,” you said, your voice shaky. “Every time I try to trust you, something happens that makes me question it all over again. I need time to sort through all this, but I can’t do that if I’m constantly reminded of why I shouldn’t trust you.”

Joel looked at you with desperation and hurt, his eyes pleading. “I know I messed up, but I’m trying here. I really am. I wanted to make things right with Lori as you asked me, so we could move on, but I didn’t expect—”

“Expect what?” you cut him off, tears threatening to spill. “Expect her to still have feelings for you? Or expect that you’d have to be in her presence and make her feel like she has a chance? It’s all too much.”

You paused, your voice breaking as the weight of everything you’d been feeling crashed over you. “That woman is crazy… she tried to kill me and I’m… I’m just so tired of all this, Joel. I can’t… I can’t keep dealing with this.”

The tears that had been threatening to spill finally broke free, streaming down your face as you struggled to catch your breath. The emotional toll of the past few days had left you feeling utterly drained, and the sight of Joel and Lori together had pushed you to the edge.

Joel’s heart ached at the sight of you so distressed. Without a second thought, he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you with a desperation that spoke of his own heartache. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

“I want her to leave Jackson” you said.

Joel’s grip on you tightened at your words, his mind racing as he processed your request. “You want her to leave Jackson?” he repeated, his voice filled with surprise “I know things between us are… complicated right now, but asking her to leave—”

“It’s not  about me,” you interrupted, your voice muffled against his shoulder. “It’s about feeling safe. I can’t be here, knowing she’s so close. I need to know she’s not a threat anymore to me or anyone else.”

Joel took a deep breath, the weight of your request pressing heavily on him. He understood the need for safety, for closure, but he also knew that asking Lori to leave Jackson would have its own set of consequences.

“I’ll talk to Tommy,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “I’ll see what can be done. If it’s what you need to feel safe, then I’ll make it happen.”

Thank you,” you whispered, your eyes searching his face for any sign of doubt.

Joel nodded; his expression resolute. “I understand. And I’ll do everything I can to make sure you’re not left with that fear. You deserve peace, and I’m going to make sure you get it.”

The community meeting took place in the main hall, a space that had seen its share of important decisions and discussions over the years. Joel and Tommy, along with other key figures in Jackson, gathered to address the situation with Lori.

The room was filled with a murmur of conversations as people took their seats. The atmosphere was tense, a mix of concern and frustration hanging in the air. Joel stood near the front; his expression serious as he prepared to present the situation.

“Alright, folks,” Tommy began, stepping up to the makeshift podium. “We’re here to discuss the situation with Lori and decide on the next steps. We’ve heard from Joel, and we all know what’s been going on.”

Joel took a deep breath and began speaking. “I know this is a difficult situation. Lori’s actions have put everyone in a tough spot, and I understand that emotions are running high. I’ve spoken with her, and she’s expressed remorse, but the fact remains that her actions have put someone we care about in danger.”

He paused, looking around at the gathered community. “I’m asking for your input on what should be done. I know this isn’t an easy decision, but we need to ensure the safety and well-being of everyone in Jackson.”

The room fell silent as people considered their options. Various community members began to speak up, each sharing their thoughts and concerns. Some were in favor of asking Lori to leave Jackson, citing the need for safety and closure. Others worried about the implications of such a decision, considering her past contributions to the community and the potential impact on morale.

After a series of discussions and arguments, the group came to a consensus. The final vote was cast, and the majority agreed that Lori would need to leave Jackson. This decision was based on the overwhelming need to ensure the safety of the community and to address the trauma caused by her actions.

As the meeting concluded, the decision was communicated to Lori. She was given a set amount of time to pack her belongings and prepare to leave. The community had made its choice, and while it wasn’t easy, it was necessary for the greater good.

Joel and Tommy left the meeting feeling a mix of relief and sadness. They knew it was a difficult decision, but one that had to be made for the sake of the community’s well-being and your peace of mind.

After the meeting, Joel went to find Lori. He found her packing her things in a small room, her movements mechanical as she sorted through her belongings. The room was quiet except for the soft rustling of her clothes and a few muffled sobs.

“Lori,” Joel said gently as he approached her.

Lori looked up, her face a mask of resignation and pain. “So, it’s really happening,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m leaving.”

Joel nodded; his expression somber. “Yeah. The community decided it was the best thing to do. I know it’s not what you wanted to hear, but it’s what needed to happen.”

Lori’s eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I just… I wanted to protect myself, and it spiraled out of control. I’m sorry.”

Joel sighed, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. “I know you’re sorry. And I understand why you acted the way you did, even if it was wrong. I just hope you can find a way to make things right for yourself.”

Lori gave a small, bitter laugh. “I don’t know if I can. But I guess I’ll have to try.”

Joel glanced around the room, unsure of what more to say. “If you need any help getting ready or finding somewhere to go, let me know. I don’t want to make this any harder than it has to be.”

Lori nodded, wiping her tears away. “Thank you, Joel. For everything.”

With a final look at Lori, Joel turned and walked away, his heart heavy. He found Tommy waiting outside the room, and together they made their way to the main area of Jackson.

As Joel walked through the community, he saw people going about their daily routines, the weight of the decision beginning to settle in. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. The decision to expel Lori had been necessary, but it left a lingering discomfort in the air.

When he finally found you, sitting in a quiet corner of the community center, he approached with a cautious but hopeful expression. “Hey,” he said softly, sitting down beside you. “I wanted to let you know that Lori’s getting ready to leave. It’s happening, just like we talked about.”

You looked at him, the strain of the past few days still evident in your eyes. “Okay,” you said quietly. “I just… I hope she can find peace or whatever she’s looking for.”

Joel reached out and took your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “I hope so too. And I want you to know, no matter what happens, I’m here. We’ll get through this together.”

You stood up abruptly, your hand slipping from Joel’s grasp. “I promised Maria, I’d help her with something,” you said, your voice tinged with a mix of determination and avoidance. “I should go now.”

Joel’s gaze followed you, his concern evident. “Wait, hold on. I know you’re trying to distance yourself again,” he said, his voice a mix of frustration and pleading. “We can talk this out. I thought we were making progress.”

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him. “I just… I need some space right now. There’s a lot to process, and I don’t want to keep having these conversations when I’m not ready. I’m trying to figure things out, and it’s hard to do that with everything so fresh.”

Joel’s expression softened, a mix of understanding and hurt crossing his face. “I get it. I really do. But shutting me out won’t make things easier. I want to be here for you, to help you through this. Running away from me or pushing me away won’t solve anything.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. “I’m-I’m not running away from you, Joel.”

Joel stepped closer, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “I’m not trying to complicate things. I just want to be part of the solution, not the problem. If you need space, I’ll give it to you. But please, don’t shut me out completely. I care too much to let you go through this alone.”

You looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes making your resolve waver. “I appreciate that, Joel. But I need to go”

Joel’s expression hardened, though his eyes still held a flicker of hurt. “Okay,” he said, his tone sharper than before. “If that’s what you need, I’ll back off.”

You could feel the sting of his words, a mix of anger and resignation in his voice. You nodded, trying to steady yourself. “Thank you for understanding.”

As you turned to leave, Joel’s gaze followed you, a mixture of frustration and sadness etched on his face. The conversation had left both of you in a raw, vulnerable state, and the air between you was heavy with unresolved emotions.

As night settled over Jackson, the streets grew quiet, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. You wandered aimlessly, torn between the invitation from Tommy and Maria and the thought of returning to your own space. The uncertainty of your feelings and the tension with Joel weighed heavily on your mind.

Just as you were about to make a decision, you heard footsteps approaching. You turned to see Joel walking towards you, his expression a mix of determination and concern. The spark of his brown eyes seemed to cast a glow under the lights, and your breath got stuck in your throat.

Just as you were about to make a decision, you heard footsteps approaching. You turned to see Joel walking towards you, his expression a mix of determination and concern. The spark of his brown eyes seemed to cast a glow under the lights, and your breath got stuck in your throat.

“Are you going to Tommy’s?” Joel asked, his voice carrying a hint of bitterness.

You nodded slowly. “I don’t know.”

“Why?” Joel asked, his tone sharp. “Because I’m going?”

His question hung in the air, charged with the tension between you. You could see the frustration and hurt etched on his face, and it made you realize how deeply conflicted he was.

“No,” you said quietly, though the weight of your uncertainty was clear. “I just... I need to figure things out.”

Joel’s jaw tightened, his frustration boiling over. “Figure things out? You know, every time I try to make things right, it feels like I’m just making them worse.”

“It’s not just about you,” you said, trying to hold back the tears. “It’s about me, too. I need to figure out what I want.”

Joel ran a hand through his hair, his gaze shifting away for a moment. “I get that you need space, but it feels like you’re avoiding me, avoiding what’s between us.”

“I’m not avoiding you,” you replied, your voice cracking.

Joel’s eyes softened slightly, though the hurt was still evident. “Look, if you want to go to Tommy’s, then go. But don’t use it as an excuse to push me away. I’m here, and I’m trying to be part of this, part of us.”

Joel’s frustration reached a boiling point as he shouted, “Every time we made progress, you just pushed it all away because you’re afraid! You’re acting like a coward!”

You flinched at his raised voice, your own emotions bubbling to the surface. “Why? For protecting myself from you?” you snapped back, feeling the sting of his words.

Joel’s eyes flashed with a mix of anger and desperation. “Oh my god! What do you want me to do? You almost died, I could die, and you’re putting all of this on hold because you’re scared instead?” His voice was strained, almost out of breath.

You felt a sharp pang of hurt at his accusation. “Well, that’s one person less to cry over for you,” you shot back, unable to keep the bitterness from creeping into your tone.

Joel’s face darkened with anger and frustration. “You’re a fucking— I’m done.” His words were cut short as he struggled to control his emotions.

The anger in Joel’s voice only made you cry harder, the tears flowing freely now. “You don’t understand,” you sobbed, your voice breaking. “I love you, Joel. I really do, so much. But everything always ends with me in the dark, sobbing all alone because people I love leave or die and I don’t want you to die.”

Joel’s face softened at your tears, his anger melting away into a pained expression. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he wiped away a tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry, sunshine,” he said, his voice breaking.

"I'm in love with you. I'm in love with you, and I won't die for you. I'll live for you, I'll carry all for you," he said, his voice full of raw emotion.

"Joel..." you started, but your words faltered, lost in the storm of feelings between you.

"Listen to me, you will never be alone again," he reassured, his voice filled with a desperate promise.

You didn't answer, just looking down at your boots, feeling Joel’s gaze burning with sadness and fury, a mix of emotions that felt like daggers dressed in words.

Joel sighed, hopelessness dripping from his voice. "Okay." He said, giving up on you.

"I fell in love with Joel who was charismatic and kind, the one I know you're capable of being but hide because you’re afraid of seeing those colors in yourself again," you said softly. "And I even love the grumpy one a bit, but—"

"But?" Joel prompted, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Please don’t—"

"I love you so much, and I want to say sorry for not realizing before," he said, the confession slipping out as you looked up at him with tear-streaked cheeks. He reached out, his hand brushing gently against your cheek. “I love you” he repeated, “and I want to be the man you fell in love with. I want to be the one who can stand beside you, not just in the good times, but in the hard ones too.”

You looked everywhere but him, not uttering a word. Joel’s expression shifted from frustration to resignation as he began to turn away, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Just as he was about to step back, feeling the cold sting of the night air, you made a sudden, impulsive move. Without thinking, you reached out and closed the distance between you, pressing your lips against his in a fierce, desperate kiss.

The shock of the kiss jolted Joel into stillness. For a moment, he stood there, frozen, as if trying to process what was happening. But then, the tension in his body melted away, and he responded with equal fervor, his arms wrapping around you tightly. The kiss was a blend of longing, frustration, and the deep love that had been building between you.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, the raw intensity of the moment lingering in the air. Joel’s eyes searched yours, filled with a mixture of surprise and hope.

"I promise I won't forget this kiss," you said softly, recalling the meaning behind that statement

Joel’s eyes softened as he gazed at you with intensity and desire. “You’re coming home with me,” he said firmly, leaning in and kissing you again.

Once he finally managed to unlock the door of his house, he pushed the door open and stepped inside, the warmth and familiarity of his home wrapping around you.

As soon as the door closed behind you, Joel turned to face you, his expression soft and filled with a deep, lingering emotion. Without a word, he took your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the last of your tears. Then, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours once more, this kiss tender and filled with all the words he couldn’t quite say.

You responded, your arms winding around his neck as you melted into the kiss. It was a kiss of promises and newfound hope, a kiss that spoke of the love you shared and the future you were ready to face together. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, a contented smile on Joel’s lips.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said softly, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ve missed you more than you can imagine.”

You smiled; your heart full. “I’ve missed you too, Joel. More than you know.”

Joel's smile lingered for just a moment before he leaned in once more, capturing your lips with his. You responded eagerly, your arms tightening around his neck as you lost yourself in the moment.

Soon the both of you were inside Joel’s bedroom, you laying on your back with him on top. Your shirt was on the floor, along with his shirt and jeans. You felt a sudden warmth spreading up on your cheeks at the thought of your fresh scar resting on your abdomen.

Joel looked at you with concern as he followed your gaze. His eyes softened, and he reached out, his fingers brushing lightly over the scar as if to trace the memories you had built.

“You know,” he said quietly, his voice filled with warmth, “this scar doesn’t change a thing about how I see you. You’re absolutely perfect to me, just the way you are.”

You looked at him, your heart swelling at his words. Despite the physical reminder of what you’d been through, his reassurance made you feel cherished and beautiful. His gaze was unwavering, filled with a deep, genuine affection that made the pain of the past seem a little less sharp.

Joel's eyes met yours again, full of tenderness. “You’ve been through so much, but you’re still here, stronger than ever.”

You smiled softly, touched by his words. He leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours, placing kisses on your cheeks, slowly moving down your neck, your chest, finally reaching the scar, planting a kiss over it.

You felt treasured. Your nipples were hard and begging to be brushed, something Joel was aware of since he needed you all over again. He shortly sucked on a nipple, arching your back and grasping your tights with his own. The lust had completely taken control of you, and now every part of you yearned his touch.

Joel pulled his mouth away to look at you, raising his palm to trace your face with his thumb.  "I love you," he kissed your forehead then your cheek. "I love you," he whispered, kissing both your lips and neck.

"And I love you too." You whispered, and a smile spread across your face as you took a look of him. “Now can you please finish what you started or I swear- “

Your words were cut by Joel taking your lips on his mouth again, muttering “I love you” again, before pulling your jeans down as you did the same with his.

He pushed your thighs apart and stepped between them while slowly guiding himself inside you. The feeling of fullness and stretch were both familiar and foreign. You hadn’t had him in weeks that turned into months, and now he felt massive. When he was all the way inside, a heavy groan got stuck in his throat as he pressed his forehead against yours, his mouth hung open and his face twisted.

"God, you feel so good," he gasped. "I could just come right now."

Your laughter rang through your chest as he moved. The consuming pleasure made you both tremble. Then he increased up the pace and rammed quicker. He was thrilled, and he could feel himself becoming thicker and fuller inside you. You were struggling to breathe, but your hips were bucking to encourage him to move quicker. And so, he did, providing you precisely what you asked for.

He moved one hand down to your hip, his head leaning forward to grasp your lips in a passionate kiss as he pounded harder toward the orgasm. You could feel the heat spread throughout your body like a blaze, and his finger toyed with your clit, heightening the pleasure on your body. Your eyes began to flutter, and your nails scratched down his back. Joel bit your neck, hearing filthy moans escaping your lips as he felt himself reaching the edge. Soon, your head felt back, and a loud groan erupted from your mouth as the two of you reached your release.

Your entire body went numb as Joel lay down next to you.

“I don’t want to move.” You spoke, unable to move. 

his warmth radiating through the space between you. As you lay there, unable to move, he settled down next to you with a relaxed, contented smile.

“Don’t worry about moving,” he said softly, his voice soothing. “We can just stay here, right where we are. No need to rush or do anything.”

His hand found yours, fingers lacing with yours in a gentle, reassuring grip. He adjusted his position so he was facing you, his smile never fading.

You glanced at him, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. He leaned down to kiss you. Joel’s lips brushed against yours with a tender, lingering kiss, conveying all the love and reassurance he felt for you.

Joel’s lips lingered on yours for a moment longer before he pulled back, his gaze soft and caring. “Do you want to get some sleep?” he asked gently, his voice filled with concern and tenderness.

You nodded, the aftermath exhaustion finally catching up with you. Joel’s smile grew as he gently kissed your forehead. “Alright, let’s get you comfortable.”

He carefully slipped out of bed and retrieved a soft t-shirt from his drawer. He helped you change into it, his touch tender and careful. Once you were settled, he lifted you effortlessly, cradling you in his arms as he carried you to the bed.

With a practiced ease, Joel placed you gently under the covers, ensuring you were tucked in warmly. He then slid in beside you, pulling the blankets up to your chin.

He looked at you with a mix of love and concern. “Get some rest. I’ll be right here.”

You snuggled into the warmth and comfort of the bed, feeling secure with Joel beside you.

The morning light crept softly through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. You woke before Joel, the stillness of the room only adding to the quiet tension you felt. As you lay there, you couldn’t shake the lingering fear from the last time you had been so close to him. The thought that he might wake up and not remember you again, or that things might somehow go back to the way they were, gnawed at you.

You turned your head to watch Joel sleep, his features relaxed and peaceful. His breathing was steady, and the sight of him lying there, so calm and content, was both comforting and nerve-wracking. The fear of losing this moment, of it slipping away like before, was overwhelming.

Joel stirred slightly, a soft groan escaping his lips as he slowly began to wake. His eyes fluttered open, and for a few seconds, he looked at you with a mixture of confusion and grogginess. Your heart raced, the fear of seeing him slip back into a disconnected state making your breath catch in your throat.

But then, as his eyes fully opened and he focused on you, a slow, genuine smile spread across his face.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

I tagged everyone interested in more parts or or the ones who commented, but I couldn't tag everyone because all got mixed (again) if you don't want to be tagged you can tell me, if you want to be tagged, you can also tell me. I tried to add everyone but I don't know If I did.

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[mrs-elsie-barnes]

The Great Bucky Bake Off | Bucky Barnes x Reader | One shot - 3.5k words

An Avengers retreat takes a turn for the better when Bucky decides to eat your pot brownies… all of the pot brownies.

Warnings: 18+ sexual content. Drinking, casual drug use, Avengers wearing onesies for reasons, very flirty Bucky, p in v & oral sex. Rated R for ridiculous.

A/N: Happy birthday, Bucky Barnes!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

“Okay, ‘fess up, who ate all my brownies?” You turned to stare down the rest of the team, admittedly a little slow on your feet already.

The scene in the living room could only be described as chaotic. When Tony suggested he fly the team out to his remote cabin for “rest, recuperation and team building”, you had been fully on board. You were even more on board when he had you buy everyone fluffy animal onesies and you’d signed yourself up to a lifetime of being obsessed with your job the day you received an email to source as much weed, alcohol and Asgardian liquor as possible. Being the Avengers PA certainly had its perks. 

“Not me!” Steve admitted, far too quickly. “I didn’t eat them.” He shook his head, sending the dog ears on top of his onesie flopping about. 

You narrowed your eyes, “Well, you sure know something.” He looked the picture of innocence until he pulled Sam into the conversation. 

“Tell 'er Sam, we dunno nothin’ 'bout brownies." 

"Nuthin’” Sam shook his head too, his beer sloshing dramatically in its glass and wetting his hand. “My wings!” He steadied the bottle and brushed the stray liquid from the soft Eagle wings that made up the arms of his outfit.

“Have you spoken to James?” Natasha asked, leaning next to you and swiping crumbs from the plate, the last of the joint you’d shared placed delicately between her fingers. Somehow she managed to make the black onesie look very stylish, the arms rolled up to the silvery spiderwebs embroidered on the elbows and shoulders.

“James? Bucky?" 

Organising and taking part in retreats was your second favourite part of your job. Bucky took the top spot, miles ahead of everything else with his handsome, stubbled face and gruff but gentlemanly manner. Despite being part of the team for a while, he still kept to the background, staying out of the way and keeping quiet. He was always especially polite to you, holding the door and making sure you were included all the time, even if he never really stayed that long at Stark’s parties or Steve’s team building exercises.

Deep down you hoped it was because he saw you the same way you saw him, in your dreams, surrounded by little hearts. 

But life just wasn’t that kind, and you took his friendship gladly if that was all he could give. 

"Why would Bucky eat them, can he even get high?” You slid forwards, leaning on the counter and clutching the empty tray. 

“Bambi!” The four of you whipped around, surprised. Bucky bounced into the room with an enthusiasm that Steve hadn’t seen for decades. He also had chocolate on his cheeks and crumbs all down his front making him instantly guilty. You looked down at your onesie, light brown and speckled like a deer with tiny antlers on the hood. 

“Ha, yeah, like Bambi.” You giggled.

“And I’m Thumper!” He laughed back pulling the hood of his own pyjamas up and letting the long, grey, ears drop in front of his face. 

“Because you punch people?” You were momentarily confused, your brain refusing to work and instead focusing on the too tight fabric around Bucky’s arms. 

Behind you Sam coughed to cover his laughter and Natasha turned away, eyes full of mirth. 

“No! Thumper in Bambi!" 

"The girl rabbit?” Tony dropped down onto the huge sectional couch, surprisingly sober. Although you were sure that had more to do with promising Pepper to keep the cabin safe, rather than any personal choice. 

“Thumper is a boy.” Bucky insisted, eyes never leaving yours, his smile boyish and relaxed.

“How would you know?” Sam scoffed, leaning over the back of the couch, positively gleeful when Steve whispered that Bambi was also a boy and they fell back laughing together.

“Because, Sam, I’ve seen Bambi." 

"What?” Tony’s snort of derision didn’t go unnoticed, but you shot him a glare. This was possibly the most relaxed you’d ever seen Bucky, you wouldn’t be letting anyone, including your boss, spoil it. 

“I saw Bambi, in 1942, when it first came out,” he said proudly. 

“That’s right, I remember!” Steve jumped up, the Asgardian liquor cocktail that Natasha had rustled up earlier starting to take effect. “We went with your sisters, Rebecca cried when Bambi’s mom got shot and he was all alone." 

"Don’t spoil it, Stevie.” Bucky chastised, turning back to you as quickly as possible, “Have you seen it? Do you want to see it? We could see it?”

You nodded but he ignored you, continuing to talk as he got closer and closer, backing you into the kitchen island where the empty brownie tray dropped with a clang. 

"We can go, I’ll take you, Saturday, you can have as much popcorn and soda as you like.” His right hand swayed by his side, nudging closer to yours until your fingers touched. “What d'ya say?" 

Every fibre of your being screamed yes, just as you’d internally jumped for joy whenever he came by your office or handed you a coffee. But those times you were sober, calm, collected. Now you were four drinks and half a joint deep, floating off into the clouds. Professional judgement be damned. 

So you screamed "Yes!” outloud for once. 

He beamed, throwing his arms around you and squeezing just a little too tight until you squeaked. “Good, gonna be my best girl, my Bambi and I’ll be Thumper, buy you lots of popcorn and - oh - you’re really soft.” His hands found the back of your hood, pulling it up to sit on top of your head, letting it fall into your eyes. 

“Yeah it’s nice, right?” 

“S’fluffy.” Bucky’s thumbs brushed over your lips and down your neck, just inside the hood for a moment, before finding your shoulders and arms, rubbing the fuzzy material until you felt static build on your skin. “You’re really cute, y’know,” he whispered. “My own little Bambi.”

“I know.” You giggled back, picking up the joint again so you’d had something to do with your hands other than grip the front of your own outfit. 

“We didn’t smoke weed back in the day,” he said, conversationally, as if he didn’t have his hands in your pockets, pulling out your lighter and a lip balm. 

“No?” You took a drag, blowing the smoke to the side politely. 

“Did a lot of cocaine though, keep us awake on missions.” 

“Jesus. That’s…intense.” 

He nodded, watching your fingers against your lips, the little pout when you exhaled. 

“Can I?” 

“You ate a whole tray of brownies, Bucky, I don’t know if you should have anymore.” You extended your arm away from his grabby hands, hoping Natasha would come and take it away again, but to no avail. Instead, he lifted you onto the counter, pinned your leg down and followed the line of your arm to your outstretched hand. His lips brushed the backs of your fingers when he took the twist of paper into his lips. You waved him over and he held his breath as he returned to you, leaning in close and only exhaling when you pulled your hoods together, his nose against yours. 

Instinctively you inhaled, the rush of smoke and the smell of Bucky was overwhelming. You giggled again, trapping him against you with an arm around his neck and your legs around his waist. 

“Haven’t shotgunned since college.” You smiled, everything was so floaty and soft, fuzzy round the edges and so fucking warm. When did it get so warm? 

“You know with your floppy ears you could be-” your laughter bubbled up, cutting you off, “you could- sorry - oh my god - you could be Bucks Bunny!" 

Bucky did not seem to like that nickname as much as Thumper and told you so, pouting until you let him take another long drag. 

Time seemed to slow down between Bucky’s words, his hands, the way your glass of wine felt in your hand and the texture of his onesie. They were a good idea, so soft, good for petting, and Bucky was petting you too. His right hand was burning hot, even through the thick material, the pads of his fingers were calloused and rough, but the palm was soft. His left hand was so rigid, making a whirring noise. When you put your cheek to the artificial bicep it ticked pleasantly and you smiled, sighing and closing your eyes so you could concentrate on the joined sounds of Bucky’s heart and his prosthesis. In turn, Bucky held you gently, his metal fingers gentle on your back where he kept you snuggled in tight beside him. 

You were faintly aware of the ongoing chatter across the room, but it had faded away into background static. Your soul focus was on the way two of Bucky’s eyebrow hairs stuck out from the others, the little patch of grey forming in his stubble, the dark fleck of colour in his iris, the way his mouth looked saying your name. Oh shit, he’s saying your name, say something back! 

“Uh huh, yeah, uhm - maybe?” 

He tipped his head to the side, bunny ears flopping over too, and came closer again. His hands on your cheeks. “I’ll help you.” He leant forwards to rest his forehead against yours. 

“What’ya doing?” You tried to look at your forehead too but your eyes seemed to stop when they got to your eyelashes. Annoying. 

“Telling you what I’m thinking without saying it.” 

“Oh, is it working?” 

“You have to tell me that, silly!”

“I don’t think it’s working,” you whispered, loudly, and Natasha groaned from the sofa closest to the kitchen. 

“These two are out, done, nothing more for them,” she declared, waving her glass of red wine. 

A chorus of yes and agreed sounded from the remaining Avengers. Clint had already fallen asleep across one of the arm chairs, his beer dribbling onto his shirt from the neck of the bottle. Steve and Sam were deep in debate about the merits of Japanese whiskey over original scotch whisky and Tony was watching you both intently, his own glass of Glengoyne warming in his hand. The way the condensation formed under his fingers was fascinating, and you told Bucky as much, pulling him close to your cheek so you could get the same view. 

 “I concur, what did you do to my PA, Barnes?” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re a bad influence.” 

“She’s not you PA, she’s our PA. So she’s ours to influence,” he returned, proudly. 

Tony just continued to stare, pointedly, sipping his drink.

“What you gonna influence me to do, Buck?” You kicked your legs against the kitchen counter, a picture of innocence, and Tony laughed into his drink. 

But Bucky looked at you very seriously, bent to whisper in your ear, his breath tickling the back of your neck, his leg between yours, muscular and firm despite the fluffy clothes. 

“I’m gonna influence you to steal all of Stark’s M&Ms.” He tried to keep quiet but ended up choking out the end of his sentence around his own uncontrollable giggles. 

“Oh my god, you know he has me take the red ones out, says they’re smug. I have so many red M&Ms in my flat.” 

“Hey, that’s supposed to be a secret!” 

“Wanna eat all the red ones I brought with me?” 

Bucky helped you down from the counter and then across to the pantry where you’d stashed the huge bags of snacks and sweets when you first arrived. Despite Steve’s shouts of leaving some for everyone, you closed the door and sat down, ready to tuck in, wrappers and chocolate littering the floor while you dug about for your favourites. Bucky sat on the floor, encouraging you to sit between his legs, keeping his hands moving over the downy material of your onesie. 

“Okay, Bambi, what’ve you got for me?” 

Before you could even attempt to feed him anything, Steve wrenched the door open, hands on his hips. “I think you need to sleep this one off, not eat more chocolate,” he insisted, waving at you both to get back up. 

“Nuh-uh, Steve, not leaving.” Bucky tightened his arms around your waist and nuzzled into the back of your neck. “You smell like cake,” he exclaimed, happily, ignoring Steve. 

“Sam! Can you help me shift Bucky?!” 

“What about me?” You pouted, holding Bucky’s hands around your waist. 

“You need to go to bed as well.” Natasha extended her hand to yours in an effort to pull you off the floor, but Bucky’s grip was too strong. 

Eventually, it took everyone to wrestle you away from Bucky and bundle you into your room. In the corridor, Bucky howled his anger, breaking out of his room to easily find you in yours. 

“Bambi! There you are! Those awful hunters took you!” he cooed, squishing your cheeks again and kissing your pouty lips. Deep down your brain registered that this was your first kiss with him, that the man who had been consuming your thoughts for months was actually kissing you, willingly, and had broken a door so he could get close enough to do so. 

“Buh-kee, it was just Nat and Tony,” you drawled, your lips moving gently against his, reluctant to pull away. 

“I know, but I didn’t like it, wanna stay here with you.” 

Natasha, who was still trying to wrestle you into bed, gave up. “If you two stay in here together, and stay out of trouble, I won’t say anything.” She pointed at you both, eyebrows slightly raised. 

“Promise I’ll be good, Natty.” You fluttered your eyelashes at her dramatically, hoping to seem more trustworthy, but she just rolled her eyes. “Fine, stay here.” 

And then you were alone. 

You hesitated for a moment, watching the slow movement of Bucky’s face, fascinated by the way the muscles tightened minutely when he smiled. 

“I’m going to kiss you again now,” he stated, so formal that you broke out into another fit of laughter which made you hiccup and grab for his chest to steady yourself. 

He ignored you, bending his head and catching your lips with his, messy and rushed. 

“You taste real nice, you know?” Bucky licked across your lips again, swallowing your giggles. 

“You taste nice too, ate all my damn brownies.” With a long lick up his chocolate smeared cheek, you kissed him back, tangling your hands in his hair, trying to push the too hot, stuffy, fluffy, onesie off his shoulders. 

Bucky shrugged, and sat back to push the material down to his hips. Your eyes followed the movements of his hands, the way each inch of muscle revealed itself and, suddenly, you were hungry again, lunging forwards to bury your face between his pecs. Starting at his sternum, you kissed further and further down, shoving him backwards so you could climb on top of him, nipping and kissing bruises in a slow trail towards the end of the zipper. With a twist of his wrist, his cock sprang free from its confines and you bent down to lick the pearlescent precum leaking from his tip. 

“Fuck, Bambi.” He dropped his head back, one hand gripping the pillows and the other cupping the back of your head while you licked the head like an ice cream. “I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that.” 

You sat back on your heels, letting your fingers dance up and down his cock. “Feels soft,” you observed, thoughtfully, “Hard and soft at the same time, isn’t that funny?” 

Bucky couldn’t reply, he just laid back, watching the woman he’d pined after for months finally touch him the way he’d dreamed. It seemed surreal to be here, in your bed, with your hands all over his body like you owned it. Well, he thought, you did own it, you just didn’t really understand that yet. 

“I wanna touch you, too,” he insisted, “Can I?” His hands hovered over your clothes, so close to the zipper his fingertips brushed it when you breathed. You nodded and he lowered the metal slowly. 

Everything seemed slow now, even his voice, mumbling against your skin when he kissed down your breasts and took your nipple into his mouth. When he bit down a little, you giggled, his fingers tickling your sides, until you were both laughing again, half in and half out of your onesies, brains full of cotton wool and lust and nerves. 

“Hey, hey.” You tugged on his hair until he looked up, resting his cheek on your belly. “Can I tell you a secret?” 

“Yes, I’m so good with secrets!” He crawled back over your body, lowering his face close to yours. “You can whisper it or you can do it telepathically.” 

“I’m not telepathic, Bucky.” 

“Sure, like this.” He dropped his forehead to yours. “I know all your secrets now.” 

“No, you don’t!” You shoved him, but he didn’t move. 

“I do!”

“Tell me then.” 

His eyes roamed over your face, from your eyes to your lips as if he couldn’t help it. “You like me.” 

“Everyone likes you, Buck, you just think they don’t.” 

“No you like me, you want to step out with me, be my best girl.” He looked overjoyed to have revealed your secret before you could. “Am I right?”

“Don’t be mean to me, Barnes.” 

“I’m not being mean, I read your mind.” 

“You know what? Fuck off.” You shoved a second time, but he still didn’t move. 

“Wanna read my mind? I’ll help.” His forehead met yours again, sweat beading along your hairline from the stress of being so clearly seen by the man you’d been fantasising about for months. Before you could protest that only he could read minds while high, he was kissing you again. Slow and steady, his tongue nudging your lips gently until you opened for him, throwing your arms around his neck and letting the feeling of petal soft kisses take over you. 

He moved away only enough to take off his now too warm onesie, as well as your own, leaving you both naked and tangled together on the bed. He couldn’t get enough of touching you, he felt buoyant, happy in a way that he hadn’t for months, years, and he never wanted it to end. His fingers tingled when they touched you, though it was becoming harder and harder to stay in control. 

“Bucky, I want you,” you managed to squeak out between kisses, fumbling awkwardly between you both, hoping he understood.

"I want you too.” He nodded, bumping your heads together. 

You wriggled beneath him, guiding him between your legs until he was buried inside of you. 

“Damn it, Bambi, you feel soft everywhere.” His wide eyed expression made you smile.

“You’re kinda soft too, Bucky.” This side of him was one you’d been dying to see, unguarded and playful. 

He nuzzled your cheek and began to move, tentative at first and then faster. In your dreamy state, it was hard to know where you started and ended or how long you’d been locked together. 

You moved as one, slow and steady, enjoying the feel of each other’s warm skin and chocolate sweet kisses, breaking every now and again to stare at each other in awe. 

Bucky seemed to sense your approaching release before you did, speeding up when you fluttered around him, the erratic movement of his hips driving you closer and closer to the edge of the bed until you both tumbled out. The pillows and sheets followed soon after, dropping on you in an avalanche of goose down and brushed cotton. 

You both paused in shock, your giggles broken by your fall, but then he was pulling you back down on top of him and holding your hips steady. 

“Bucky, I wanna - I gotta -” Your hand drifted between you again to touch your sensitive clit, just a little more pressure and you could feel your orgasm building. The tightness of your pleasure started between your legs and radiated out to your toes, making them curl against the sheepskin rug beneath you. 

Bucky followed after you, unable to control himself from the onslaught of sensation your clenching heat provided. 

You woke the next day in a tangle of limbs and bedding, your back sore from sleeping on the floor all night and your brain fuzzy. Beside you, still with a smear of chocolate on his cheek, Bucky continued to sleep. 

[luveline]

you can ignore me for the rest of time and I will still dutifully show up to read your work every day ~ can I request some angsty bombshell x spencer? maybe their first actual fight and spence snaps at her so bombshell r crying and locks herself in their room and he apologizes through the door but still sleeps on the couch and she comes and snuggles in the middle of the night and forgives him bc she can’t sleep? this is so self indulgent pls feel free to change anything you want love you jade

thank u for requesting! —spencer makes you cry. fem, 1k

Spencer can’t stand hearing you cry. He can’t believe he’s the one who caused it —he didn’t mean to, he just got so annoyed at you, everything’s difficult lately now you’ve moved in together permanently because you practically living at his apartment is apparently not the same as truly living with one another. 

He knows neither of you are unhappy living together, but you haven’t fought before, not like this. He stands just outside the bedroom door where you’ve sequestered yourself, ashamed of making you this upset. He doesn’t let himself in. “Y/N?” 

“Go away, Spencer,” you say. To your credit, you try to sound calmer than you are. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean for it to go that far. Please don’t cry.” 

“Spencer,” you say, a line of anger darkening your words, “leave me alone.” 

He shouldn’t have said you were being lazy. You aren’t lazy, you’re tired. Moving in together has been really hard on you, even if you won’t admit it, or show it externally. He just wanted to say something mean, because you’d said you allowed him to have that ugly armchair in the living room and he got mad —it’s not ugly, and he wasn’t allowed, he’s a grown man. 

He just can’t feel angry about it anymore hearing your sad sniffling. He said something too mean, he took it too far, and maybe he was ‘allowed’. Moving in together is about compromise, and you’d compromised, and he’s punishing you for it. 

“I’m sorry, angel. I didn’t mean to make you cry, I– I was being mean and you didn’t deserve that. I’ll be out here if you… if you wanna talk to me,” he says, turning to leave with his head held low. 

He waits all night for you to come out, if it were just to drink some water or use the bathroom, but after a few minutes he can’t hear you crying, and you don’t make any sounds. He thinks he might hear you moving the sheets aside some time toward 10PM, but there’s nothing after that. He falls asleep on the couch, sulking, wishing he hadn’t been such an idiot. 

You let yourself out of your shared bedroom in the middle of the night. The sheets don’t smell enough like him, and you want to hold his hand, and you want to know he’s really not mad at you. That he doesn’t really think you’re lazy. 

Quiet, you walk downstairs and into the living room, where Spencer sleeps stretched out on the couch. It’s a big couch, meant for soft sitting, wide enough that, were you to set a baby down, they couldn’t roll off accidentally. Spencer’s on his side with his arm curled around one of the bigger pillows, brown strands of hair falling into his face.

He’s not a deep sleeper, but you can’t say you’re scared to wake him. You pull the pillow from his arms and sit on the couch beside him, working your way into his side, and encouraging his arm over yours. Gentle, you brush the mess of his hair from his eyes. He doesn’t even have a blanket.

You hold his sleeping face in your hands. His eyes twitch and scrunch tighter at your touching, worried, but you give a gentle, “Shh,” and he relaxes. His eyes smooth, then open, lashes struggling apart, the brown of his eyes dark as a roasted chestnut. 

He whispers your name, tongue heavy with sleep. 

“Mm,” you reply, tucking his hair behind his ears. 

“You okay?” he whispers. 

You press your face to his neck, letting yourself deflate as you wait for his arms to lock you in. It can’t be five seconds before he’s curling his arms around you carefully, kissing your hairline, the first bit of skin he can reach at this angle. He’s not quite awake yet, you know, can tell from countless times sleeping in his bed. If he were to fall back to sleep, he wouldn’t remember this tomorrow. 

“Can’t sleep,” you whisper.

“Oh,” he says, with all the tenderness of a pet name, dripping, palpable adoring, “want tea?” 

“Want you.” 

He strokes your shoulder. You’re the one being hugged, really, but Spencer’s grip gets so tight you worry he needs one. You wrap your arms behind him, close your eyes tight to stop from getting teary. 

“I don’t like fighting,” you say. 

“M’sorry.” 

“Do you want to kiss and make up?” 

He stills. “You’re not mad?” 

“You really upset me, Spence. N’ I bet you know that n’ feel bad enough already,” you mumble. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was being childish.” 

You forgive him. Everybody’s allowed to be mean every once in a while. You’d been arguing, and you can feel now that he regrets it, his hands apprehensive but somehow loving still as they touch your back through the thin fabric of a t-shirt he’d bought you. The front has a silly graphic on it, some equation that spells out love. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper. “I’m not mad. I can’t sleep when you’re not next to me, so… Let’s not fight again.” 

“I don’t like it when you cry.” 

You shake your head gently, slotting yourself into all his nooks and crevices. Your legs tangled, the couch is an ample bed for two people trying to be as close to each other as humanly possible. You don’t like crying either, not over Spencer, not thinking he doesn’t see you in the light you’d thought he did. 

“Do you really think I’m lazy?” you ask. 

“No, I was being awful,” he says, sounding deeply repentant. 

Well, there’s no need to punish him, you decide, not when he’s beating himself up already. You cup the back of his head to tap your foreheads together, any aches and pains of the bed disappearing in the eye of his softness. He’s gaining confidence now you’ve touched his hair, his hands travelling low to the small of your back, your face once again pushed into the curve of his neck, where you stay. 

[bunnys-kisses]

team principal

max verstappen - team principal au

cw: smut/pwp, driver!reader, team principal!max, age gap (20/45), power dynamic, (slight) bratty behavior, groping, driver's room sex, oral sex (max receives)

as requested by anon: Driver!reader asking team principal max verstappen for a custom line of all pink and feminine merch because the orange just “washes her out” so he does. And he goes ALL out, bright pink Verstappen Racing flare leggings, and baby tee’s with the MV logo plastered on the chest bc what she wants she gets.

like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own! <3

being part of verstappen racing meant wearing their logo. it had been the logo that max verstappen himself raced with. the 'm' and the 'v' were known prior to the establishment of the f1 team. every team had their logo from ferrari's stallion to red bull's, well, bulls. even teams like hamilton motorsports had their logo.

the problem with max verstappen's merch wasn't the logo, it was how god awful ugly it was. you had a selection of some of the ugliest merch on the planet. why was it all orange?

you had been convinced that your team principal, your boss, only saw the world through orange hues. that was everything was a shade of orange so awful that it would make mclaren blush!

"this is ugly. this is ugly. this is somehow worse! this looks like a halloween collection rather than actual merch. mister verstappen you make more money than anyone i know, hire someone with design sense!" you shook the shirts in your hand.

you knew that almost every driver on the grid couldn't talk to their boss like that. but it was an poorly kept secret that max verstappen had a soft spot for you. he also fucked you two ways to sunday on a weekly, if not daily basis.

max chuckled and leaned back a little in his office chair, "brand integrity is important, schat. a recognizable brand is important to its value."

you made a face, "well, your brand looks like spirit halloween threw up all over the place." then put the items down forcefully. you put your hands on your hips, "and shouldn't brands take risks? try something new? all of you use the same colours, cuts and styles. it's boring!"

max asked, "then what do you have in mind? since you know so much about a brand. i've been doing this since i was seventeen. almost thirty years, schat. longer than you've known how to walk let alone drive." he raised his eyebrows, "since you know so much, dazzle me with your proposal."

max would let his precious driver bark like a yapping dog. but he knew how to keep you quiet. he watched you cower for a moment, realizing that you took it a step too far. max smiled with his face rested against his fist.

you swallowed, "maybe something a little more... feminine.. pink. something cute." you leaned forward at his desk a little, the shirt you wore was his and was a little big on you. your movements revealed the start of a hickey he left on your shoulder the night prior, "mister verstappen, you have the first female driver in a long time. we... could lean into that a little. make it cute!"

max leaned forward in his chair and rested his arms on his desk, "cute? verstappen racing is supposed to imposing. strength on the track, and you want pink." he chuckled a little, "the alternate logo besides the initials is a lion. lions aren't cute."

you looked at him, "what about that lion stuffed animal you got me? that's cute. i sleep with it every night." you then pouted a little, a look that always made max weak. you shrugged your shoulders a little as you had your hands behind your back. you swayed a little and suggested, "plus, i could model it as well."

max may have known how to shut you up, but you knew how to make the older man weak in the knees. he sighed and kept his gaze on you, his expression a little softer, "fine. we'll see what we can do, schat. maybe you're right about needing to do something a little different. but i hope you know, whatever item we end up with. you have to show off for me."

your pout dropped and was replaced with a smile. you leaned over the desk to be closer to him and kissed him on the mouth. you held his face and smiled against the kiss. when you eventually pulled away, max watched your turn around to skip out of his office. you said to him as you looked over your shoulder, "thank you, mister verstappen."

-

max verstappen had seen enough in his over forty years on this planet. he had seen many beautiful women over the years, but when he walked into your driver's room and saw you in the newest verstappen merch, he almost fell on his ass. he had seen the line of merch before it got into your hands, but to see you in them was another story.

you were in a pink skirt from home that was almost the exact colour of the baby pink of the baby tee that you were wearing. laid out on the couch of the room was the rest of the merch. the flare leggings, the bucket hat, the baseball cap, a form fitting tank top and even an oversized button up.

all in sickening baby pink.

so much for verstappen being predators on the track. not when you were sickeningly beautiful in the clothing. max held onto the door to the room for a moment to compose himself before he stepped in and shut the door loudly behind him.

"oh!" you perked up as you turned away from the mirror to look at your boss. you smiled at him, "hello, sir." seeing the logo of the team across your tits made his eyes go wide.

"hi." he said as he swallowed, "did they give you the wrong size?" he stepped forward and reached out for you, "and where did you get this skirt?"

you smiled, "oh! this is supposed to be my right size. that's just how the tee are!" he could see your curves and a bit of your stomach. you then added, "and the skirt is from home. i bought it for a matching outfit thing." you swayed your hips from side to side.

this was supposed to be your outfit for media day. something to show off the brand. max scratched the back of his neck and stepped forward. he placed his hands on your hips and gazed at you.

"you're not going out like this. no, no. there has to be something else to wear." he approved all of the items. he saw them from concept to final product. and now you were in the driver's room looking like a whore.

"what about it?" you pouted.

he pulled at the bottom of your shirt and you yelped as it was taken over your head. he made a small disappointed noise as he tossed the shirt to the side. he licked his lips at the sight of your breasts. this was beyond any code violation. if you two got caught. but it was better than you walking around the media section in that shirt.

"you look like you're selling sex rather than the brand! you look like a whore." he said as he held onto your hips. he could feel the leap in his chest at the sight of your breasts on full display for him. only for him.

"doesn't sex sell, mister verstappen?" you said as you pouted a little and you were pulled up against him. your hands on the front of his button up, with his logo on it. you spread your hand across his chest, he noticed that your nails were painted the same pretty pink as the merch. you held onto him as he took you by the ass to press up against him.

"not this kind of sex. this is an invitation for you to cause problems. what if that skirt flips up? what if your nipples poke through the shirt. what is the press got the wrong idea and thought you were a slut." he explained. he spoke like you were a bratty girl who needed to be scolded. to be taught the right way.

you pouted further, "i'm not a slut."

max pushed up your pink tennis skirt over your ass and grabbed handfuls of your ass. it made you yelp and max closed in the space between your lips. before he kissed he said, "i know you're not. but, when you dress like this, you look like one." then kissed you deeply.

his strong hands groped your ass as you felt his cock up against your middle. you shuddered at the feeling of it. you knew that max was quite big. you squirmed a little against him and kissed him deeper.

when he pulled away, he got you down on the couch roughly. you bounced a little and looked up at him. you stuck your chest out a little more and max looked down at you as he rubbed his cock through his slacks. for one of the top racers in the world, you sure looked beautiful below him.

"mister verstappen." you said before you were met with his cock in your face. you didn't say much else but rather wrapped your lips around his cock and let him hold the back of your head. you placed your hands on his strong thighs for support as you took his cock as deep as you could take it.

max shuddered at the feeling of you. you felt like a dream in his grasp. a beauty beyond all others. despite the age gap and the power dynamics, max knew that he could make you top of the grid. you'd be winning championships that would make other drivers jealous.

as you sucked his cock, max saw your future. world champion of formula one. pretty trophies in your apartment in monaco. he already had you in a multi-year contract and no clause to get out of it. first wear the verstappen racing logo then have the verstappen last name. only fitting for a champion after all.

a strong driver needs a strong last name. and as you looked up at him with that soft gaze of yours he panted a little heavier. all dolled up for him, in his merch. you were right about the need for cuter clothes, that orange washed you out. you looked cuter in the soft pinks.

"you look good like this." he said as he tapped your nose and you made a playful noise. too precious, too beautiful for him. he loved the sight of you seated with his cock in your mouth.

you continued to suck him off and max got both hands in your hair. he pressed you up against him a little tighter and let your throat clench around his cock. he remembered the first time you sputtered and coughed when he came in your mouth. but now you took it all like the champion he knew you were.

"you're going to do so well for the press." he said, "answer all their questions. be a good girl. you know you will be. just like you are now, taking me so beautifully." he patted your cheek lovingly before he pulled you further onto his cock once more.

he watched you shudder against him as you tried to take his entire length. you could almost feel his pubic hair against your nose as you whined against him. you whined a little bit from the back of your throat and continued to suck him off. you brought him pleasure that made the team principal see stars.

he cupped your face in those large hands for a moment, "you like that don't you? having me in your throat, you're so beautiful. i don't know if anyone told you about the bidding war to get you on my team." your eyes fluttered shut and he exhaled deeply, "had to play dirty."

you whimpered in response. you didn't know about the bidding war for you a year earlier. you knew that you had a few offers when you ended up in formula one.

those blue eyes looked down at you and max licked his lips. you could feel his gaze on you as he continued to rock up into your throat. he panted a little, he could feel his shirt cling to his toned back from the sweat. "not easy to get under hamilton's skin. but i got him to back off, the same with red bull. i only wanted the best and i got it. now she's sucking my cock and wearing my logo."

you whined a little bit and it was music to max's ears. you were his prize. your teammate was good too, but max didn't hear church bells when he was around. you were max's pet project, that he just simply happened to fuck often.

he'd make you a champion. team principals played favourites all the time, and max in a way was no better than them. at least max got something else out of it. those pretty soft lips around his cock. he held onto you tightly as he continued to thrust into your mouth.

you clung to him as you could feel the ache in your throat. you kept your eyes closed and you were wet between the thighs. max briefly got more aggressive with his thrusts before he finished in your mouth. you whimpered and swallowed it eagerly.

the salty taste in your mouth was familiar and you opened your eyes to look at your boss. when you pulled your mouth off of his cock. you kissed the tip and smiled at him a little.

if max had more time, he'd be making a full mess of you. but the press would want to see the star of the track soon enough. he rubbed his cock up against your lips and nose before he said, "i want you to wear the merch next time i fuck you. you're mine, got it?"

you nodded softly and said, "yes, mister verstappen. always."

when you did the interview, you still wore the outfit. despite protests from your boss. you were all smiles for the camera, but max lingered close by. just in case someone got the wrong idea. as if max's name and logo weren't plastered across your pretty tits. but, it did get the older man thinking as he watched from a short distance.

max's mind wandered to other ways to have you wear his logo. he wondered if collars and chokers were still popular with young women. he wondered if he could get you in something with a tag with his name on it. maybe it wouldn't be sold as merch for the public, but he wouldn't mind if his star driver wore it. <3

[badbtssmut]

OC sitting between jungkooks legs after a long day and jungkook playing video games, suddenly the game controller touch’s the tip of her clit and vibrates and oc gets wet. Jungkook finds out and asks her to ride him if she needs a release. Help yourself situation.

You knew you should probably tell your boyfriend to move his game controller, but you didn’t want the nice vibrations to stop buzzing against your clit.

It was a rare afternoon that the two of you had free to spend together, but it wasn't unusual for your boyfriend to fill the time with his video games. You didn’t mind, he still made you feel involved, asking you silly little questions like which direction he should go to now, or what thing he should buy at the shop.

You knew he wasn’t actually looking for advice, and he just liked involving you in it, which made you happy.

You let a moan slip out, hoping he didn't notice.

Jungkook paused his game and looked down at you, eyebrow raised, "Do you need something?"

He always knew when something was up.

"No," you said innocently, but the buzzing of the game controller was becoming more and more intense and it felt so good.

"Are you sure? I'm getting the feeling you're a little turned on right now. Are you wet babe?”

You bit your lip and looked down, you knew that would give you away, but he had you. The vibrations were starting to make you soaking wet.

He took the controller and pulled it away from you, leaving you desperate.

“Baby, if you need it, you can always use it, my cock is all yours, you know that." Jungkook assured you, pulling you into a hug. “Need to ride it?”

You nodded. “Yes, I want it.”

Your boyfriend smiled and put the controller down on the table next to the couch. He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down with his boxers, his hard cock springing up.

You pulled down your panties, dropping them on the floor, before you got comfy on his lap. Jungkook held onto his cock as you pushed yourself down on it, a whimper escaping your lips as you slowly took him all in.

Jungkook started rubbing his hands against your back as you adjusted to his size, letting you take control at your own pace.

You rocked back and forth, moaning as his thick length brushed against your g-spot over and over. It was so good, having him inside you, you almost couldn’t stand it.

"Feels good, right baby?" He asked, feeling prideful at how quickly you were falling apart on his cock.

“Mm, yes, feels so good, just what I needed, you feel so big in me, Koo."

"It's all for you baby girl, this cock belongs to you, use it." He assured you.

"Mmm." You closed your eyes, resting your palms on his knees as you continued to ride it, while Jungkook picked up the game again.

His cock was so nice and thick, and the way it was hitting your spot was so fucking perfect.

The feeling was so overwhelming, but the fact that your boyfriend was playing his game like it was nothing was turning you on even more. You got greedier and moved your hips faster, chasing your orgasm, wanting to get off. You could feel his precum dripping out of you, making everything wet and slick.

You weren’t sure how long you were riding him for, but your release came far too soon, and your body trembled as you came, before you collapsed against him.

“Better?” He whispered before kissing your cheek.

“Better.”

[munsonsmixtapes]

As You Wish

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: you and Eddie meet at Robin’s Halloween party and realize that you’re dressed up as a couple

based on this request!

Eddie was convinced that he didn’t believe in love at first sight, but the second you walked through the door to Robin’s apartment, he was beginning to think that his mind was changed.

You looked absolutely breathtaking in your Buttercup costume and he was realizing that you were the new friend that Robin had made at work. The one she had gabbed about endlessly, always wanting to make it clear to Eddie you were very pretty and very single.

That was always something that his friends told him and faster many failed dates, he had revoked all of their setting up privileges. But this time…this time maybe he’d let it slide.

He turned away from you when you approached the snack table where he and the other three in his group had been standing. He wanted to remain cool and mysterious even though he knew that he was nothing of the sort. Maybe then he wouldn’t have been chronically single.

“And who might you be?” You asked and Robin patted Eddie on the shoulder to let him know that you were speaking to him. He whipped around, knocking over the bowl of chips in front of him in the process and was grateful that a mask was covering most of his face because it hid his blush.

He was quick to drop to the floor to scoop the chips back into the bowl and was so focused on what he was doing that he hadn’t even been aware that anyone had been helping him until a hand brushed his.

Eddie looked up slowly to see your eyes looking into his, a warm smile on your lips. His gaze shifted to your hands to see m that they were full of chip crumbs that you were picking up from the floor and he was about to thank you, the words on the tip of his tongue, but you had somehow rendered the man who never shut up speechless.

“I-“ he started, but his mouth was now dry and he was suddenly very aware of how hot his costume was. Jesus, he really needed a glass of water.

“Yeah?” You asked, your voice so gentle and he appreciated that you were being so patient with him. A lot of women he had come across would have made fun of him, but you didn’t. You had even gone as far as helping him clean up the mess he had made.

“D-“ he cut himself off again, not entirely sure what he was trying to say. He was blowing his shot at getting a date without and he hadn’t even said anything yet.

You gathered the rest of the chips into the bowl and then stood, offering him your hand and he took it, letting you help to his feet.

“Well, look at that,” you smiled as you got the full view of his costume. “It seems we’ve somehow dressed up as a couple.” You let out a chuckle and Eddie swore it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard.

Your words finally registered in his brain and he looked down at his costume before looking at yours, seeing that the two of you actually did look like a couple and that made him feel even more sweaty than he was previously. What were you doing to him?

“Guess it’s fate,” you added with a wink and the man thought he was going to die right there.

“G-guess so,” he was finally able to get out and your smile widened at his agreement. Robin had told you that he was cute and she had been right, at least, you thought she had been even though you couldn’t see most of his face. And you thought his clumsiness was adorable. Most men you had come across had been cocky or way too confident so it was refreshing to see someone who wasn’t.

And his costume was impressive, so close to the one that Westley had worn in the movie and you wondered how much he paid to have it made. Surely something custom like that had to cost a pretty penny. Yours had just come from items you already had in your closet and you were lucky just how accurate everything looked.

“I really love your costume,” you complimented and you watched what you could see of Eddie’s cheeks turn bright pink. “Where did you get it?”

“I um-I made it,” he replied, stepping closer to the table to grab his bottle of beer that he had left sitting there. He took a sip, watching your face the entire time, gauging your face for any negative reaction. How many times had he told a girl that he made his own cosplay costumes only to be met by grimaces? It was all so exhausting to try to put on a facade, to pretend to be someone else and he was tired of it. That was why he had stopped putting himself out there, why he decided that it was better to be by himself.

But your face lit up as soon as the words left his mouth, fascination written all over it and the man swore he was dreaming for a second.

“You made this?” You asked, your beautiful smile getting even brighter. “That’s fucking awesome!” You were now grinning and Eddie resisted the urge to clean out his ears or make you repeat yourself.

“I did,” he nodded, your smile feeling infectious as one spread across his own lips. “I um-“ he cut himself off, but then thought he should continue, deciding that you were a safe space for him. “I make costumes all the time. I love to cosplay.”

Now you were beginning to understand why Robin was trying to set the two of you up. Not only had she probably (definitely) known that you two were going to coincidentally dress up as a couple, but she also knew that you both were into cosplay.

“Me too!”

“Now you’re just pulling my leg.”

“No, seriously, I’ll have to show you my photo album sometime.” Sometime as in…were you setting up a date?

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” you nodded. “Do you want to get a drink-oh-you already have one.” Eddie took another sip of his beer and realized that the bottle was in fact empty.

“Empty,” he held up the bottle and you nodded, feeling a shy smile appear on your cheeks that were starting to burn.

“Let’s go, then,” you held your hand out and Eddie took it without hesitation, letting you lead him into the kitchen for another drink.

“As you wish,” he responded with a smile as he looked down at your entwined fingers, subconsciously letting the pad of his thumb rub along your knuckles gently as he followed you, wondering what the hell he had done to deserve you.

You spent the rest of the night side by side on Robin’s couch, drinking and laughing with the rest of the group. And when the party came to a close and the two of you went down to where you had parked, you exchanged numbers, deciding that maybe Robin did know what she was talking about in regards to setting the two of you up.

[kyseya]

Backstory - farm brothers

So it’s fairly clear that Weston and Lucas are not normal people. Surprise, surprise they’re killers. I wanted to have a little Texas chainsaw massacre slasher vibe but don’t know if that worked very well.

Basically they lure(or people just end up there by themselves) folk to their farm and kill them. Though there are instances where they let some walk away without a scratch, but that’s only if they’re needed, will definitely be missed and could potentially be traced back there, and haven’t the slightest clue what’s truly going on at the farm. The Callaghan brothers can’t have anyone running their mouth, you know.

Their parents were pieces of shit and only had kids to lessen the work load. The farm belonged to their fathers side of the family. their mother had never planned to marry their father but an unexpected pregnancy and pressure from others made them stay together. The two of them were miserable with each other, always fighting and blaming the other partner. The mother was mostly mad about having to spend the rest of her days on a ‘dirty farm’ and work. The father hated being married to a vile, selfish woman who barely helped with anything. His own parents were old and his siblings had quickly moved far away to prevent having anything to do with the farm, which meant everything landed on him.

It was the mother who began using her son as a helping tool. Tasks like sweeping, feeding the animals, collecting the eggs and cooking simple meals were passed to him. At first, when Weston’s dad found out he was furious. But not because it came at Weston’s expense, no, it was because he saw it as a sign of ultimate laziness.

The earliest memories Weston has is of his parents fighting over him. He remembers when his father would reprimand his mother about using him to do her labour(he wanted her to suffer the same tiring days he does) while she screamed back. But then it stopped and his father would no longer complain. Nearly a year after that his little brother was born, and of course he became the one taking care of him after he didn’t have to nurse anymore.

Lucas followed his older brother everywhere. He was his second shadow when he went around and did his chores. It was fine with weston, he wouldn’t admit it but it became a comfort knowing he was a hero to someone. It made life easier. Unfortunately their parents wanted to put Lucas to work too, the moment they considered him old enough. That wasn’t the worst part though. Their mood soured significantly over the years and they verbally abused them on a daily basis, a couple shoves and blows were hard to avoid. You’d think they’d be happier with the easier load.

Weston would have been able to take it ifd only been him, but seeing his younger sibling being treated as dirt too, that wouldn’t fly. The hatred grew stronger each day. When it had boiled over the edge, the older one had decided on a plan. They would kill their parents. Sadly, they were too young at the moment, there was no way they’d be able to overpower two adults as they currently were. They would have to wait until they were older. And so they did. Years they waited for the right opportunity. The abuse and work never stopped, in fact, the older they got the more take they had to preform. Eventually everything was done by them and nothing was done by their parents. They finally got what they wanted, total freedom from the harsh farm life.

The day Weston told Lucas the plan to kill their parents, he had expected a little pushback from him, but he was surprised when Lucas was totally in on it. One might say he was even excited.

It was really easy to murder them. You just had to corner each one when they were alone and then slice their neck. The kids had far outgrown the adults, they were no match for them anymore.

After their mother and fathers death the brothers took over the farm. Despite all the bad memories they still liked it there. It was rather peaceful(especially when no one criticised you on how to feed the pigs), plus, they didn’t have much of an education beyond reading and writing. Where would they even go? At least on the farm they had food and shelter.

The killing didn’t stop though. It appeared the first murder had awakened something in the both of them. They both had found out they enjoyed it. The power and pleasure in seeing their parents fear stricken faces was too good of a high not to experience again.

Although, they might make one exception to the killing if you’re cute enough~

[solbaby7]

I loved Blurred Lines!! Do you think you’d ever want to do a part 2 for when Rhys shows up? 👀 👀🔥

[ part one ]

Rhysand hears you before he see’s you.

Unhinged shouts and the rhythmic smacking of skin on skin pulling him closer, beckoning him inside. The concealed safe house reeks of sex, clothes scattered around the floor from the moment he walks in; chairs are tipped over, rugs askew and there’s a dent on the hallway wall.

He doesn’t bother calling out for you, certain that you probably wouldn’t hear him anyway through the drug-induced haze. The traces of it lingers in your scent, spiking sweet honey and brown sugar with strong notes of spicy cinnamon that settles thick in his throat. “Swear, I can take it, Az.” Desperate whines and choppy breaths coupled with deep grunts and a husky swear at the sound of your plea. “Just a little harder.”

Rhys knew it shouldn’t have affected him the way it did. The blood that rushed between his legs at the sound of Azriel complying, doing everything you’d asked for and more. Neither of you even notice him, shadows too distracted in squeezing at heaving breasts and gliding up the length of your neck. A soothing cool to combat the overwhelming heat that Azriel had spent hours trying to quench.

It would work for a little while before the need grew again, demanding more tongue and teeth biting into your shoulders. Blazing for the harsh grip of Azriel’s hands on your hips as his cock nudged in as far as your body allowed. “Rhys will be here soon,” He’d mutter into the shell of your ear when you’d clench around him, hips stuttering and tears streaming down your cheeks from the sensitivity of yet another orgasm.

And yet, still your body commanded more.

“It won’t stop,” Sweat beads at your hairline, hair tangled and lips swollen as your body holds onto Azriel like a lifeline. Filthy sounds squelch between where you begin and he ends, arousal dripping like a leaky faucet. “Why won’t it stop?”

“Rhys,” Azriel sighs in relief when the High Lord comes into view, exhaustion evident in tousled inky hair and droopy lids but he’s too lost in the feeling to stop. The spymasters wings are splayed out behind him as your hands wander freely along the leathery texture, hips rocking and tongue dragging along the side of his neck. “You’re here.”

Rhysand nods once, easing you off and into his arms. You find instant relief with his touch, face buried in his neck as he guides you into the bathroom. The water in the tub had long since ran cold and yet it’s perfectly warm when he rests you inside. “Took you long enough,” You whisper weakly, voice raspy from overuse. “I nearly broke him.”

His jaw clenched, unreasonable jealously tickling at the edge of his mind at the sight of Azriel’s marks on you. “I can see that,” Rhys pushes damp hair from your face, cupping at flushed cheeks to stare into your eyes. At the bright specks the shade of lavender dotting the iris, a stark contrast from pupils blown with lust. “Amren said it sounds like you were drugged with a strong mix of herbs; mostly meant to disorient but a natural side-affect is debilitating arousal.”

“She say how long it’ll last?”

Rhys grimaces slightly, hesitating before answering. “Depending on how much you ingested? Roughly a few hours, possibly less.”

Your heart plummets. So much time had already passed. How much more could you possibly endure?

More. More. More.

Every bone in your body screams as you watch the High Lord undress, exposing sun-kissed skin and mouth-watering tattoos. The water trickles when your thighs shift, searching for friction as a fresh wave of need rises. “In that case,” Your hand trails down beneath the water, hyperaware of the violet stare tracking every move. “I hope you brought your stamina.”

He’s quick to join you in the tub—even quicker when he tugs you on top of him, pressing claiming kisses to your mouth and he slides in with ease, hushed curses falling from full lips from the near unbearable heat of your cunt. “It’s not my stamina you should be worried about,” Rhysand’s deliberate in the way he slowly lifts you off him, watching more of his length come into view until only the fat tip of his cock is inside. “I’ll spend all night fucking the smell of him off you if I must.”