#then i looked up his age and went 'yeah no I'm not a creep have a nice life kiddo'

[silverselfshippingchaos]

maybe i need to just.. stop playing y.akuza.

[lady-djarin]

on my radar

joel miller x f!reader (one shot)

warnings/tags: edited very little so sorry! dual pov, jackson era dark!joel, SMUT (oral fem receiving, p in v), stalker behavior from mr miller, age gap (50s/20s), joel is kind of a creep but reader is kinda into it, murder off screen, cannon typical violence, men harassing women (a guy is gross with reader/unwanted touching etc) NO R*PE, possessive talk and nicknames (mine, love, my girl, good girl etc), reader can be lifted by mr big man joel but otherwise no really specific details about readers body other than the usual fem. 18+ minors be gone!,

word count: 5.8k

* ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

YOU

You almost dropped it twice, your gloved fingers slipped around the smooth metal of the gun as you fumbled to pull the trigger. The clicker was quickly stumbling toward you even on its one and a half limbs. You and your patrol partner got separated when a small swarm of the dead caught you both off guard in a densely wooded area . As you were trapped in a corner of a hunting shed by the crawling thing, you felt your heart rate begin to rise and the feeling of dread set in that this might be your last moment.

You saw the blood hit your gloves before you even heard the blade hack into its head. Then the body hit the floor.

You looked up to find your patrol partner standing there with a machete clutched in his hand. He was looming over you with a look very close to anger creasing his brows and his chest heaving in exhaustion. He grabbed the gun out of your hand and grabbed your arm to pull you away from the writhing body. He hacked the large blade into the neck to fully decapitate the head then stabbed into the ear to finally kill it.

“Do you even know how to use this thing?” His voice had an edge to it, like he was mad, or scared as he held up the gun in your face.

You looked at him with tears brimming your lash line, the cold was seeming to freeze them before they tried to fall down your cheek. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Have you ever been on patrol?” His eyes narrowed as they scanned your face, then your body.

“No.” Your mouth was so dry.

“Who sent you on patrol!? What the hell…,” he grumbled as he turned away. “I asked you a question.” He shot another nasty glare your way when you didn’t answer.

His statement kind of shocked you, not a lot of people are blunt like that.

“Uhm, I asked Tommy, I wanted to help.”

“Fucking Tommy, sticking me with a kid.”

“Hey I might be new to this but I'm not a kid,” you chased after him and that didn't help your defense.

“Jesus…,” he was grumbling again and marching away, toward where you hid the horses. The two of you set out on patrol a couple hours before, your first time outside the gates in Jackson. You had heard rumors about Joel, people said he was ‘rough around the edges but good people’. You had seen him around the community and wondered if he was someone you could get along with. He seemed like he was an outsider, kind of like you. When you learned you were partnered with him you figured it was going to be difficult, but this was a little much.

You were on your way through the state trying to get to where your dad lived in Sundance when you ran into some trouble near their camp and they took you in until you recovered. They stitched you up after they found a nasty gash on your ribs when you were discovered fighting off a pack of stalkers. After arriving at the Jackson community, you learned that Sundance was completely overrun. The sparse community there hunkered down in their homes after the outbreak but with the large swarms that came through the area, pretty much everyone fled and went their own ways. You could barely stand the thought that your dad was caught in the middle but he was strong, he could find his way out.

He had to.

So you remained in Jackson, becoming a part of the community, and everyone in the community had to help out somehow. You felt indebted to Tommy and the community for helping you and making you feel at home here after your recovery. That's why you wanted to go on patrol, you felt like you could help. Joel clearly didn't agree.

That last fucking thing he wanted to do was teach some rookie how to handle themselves on patrol. He was pissed and you could see it in the tense bunching of his shoulders as he rode on in front of you. You felt kind of bad for having Joel take care of you back there but he didn't have to be such an ass about it.

“Hey,” you rode up next to him. “Look I know I'm not who you wanted to be on patrol with but just give me a chance ok? I'm just trying to do a job here.”

He barely looked your way, he just kind of grunted before urging his horse over the final path into Jackson.

Alright then.

You didn't see those broad hunching shoulders for a couple days after, though he clearly had been talking about you. Tommy took you off patrol so Joel obviously made his concerns clear to his brother. When you did see him it was from across a room or passing in the street, but even in brief passes it felt like a tension was always present. His brows would bunch in the middle as he scanned you. It always felt like a judgment maybe, or some kind of disgust the way he would observe you. You quite honestly thought he hated you.

JOEL

You looked cute when you were mad, actually to Joel you always looked cute. Your cheeks were pink with the morning cold, your breath steamed in the air as you huffed through your nose. You were mad because he was ignoring you, and he was ignoring you because he was scared shitless when he came into that hunting hide and found you cornered by one of the dead. It scared the living shit out of him to think about how you were almost torn apart.

He doesn't remember the exact day that he started to care a little too much about you, it was a slow thing. It took over his life, watching you as you became integrated into the fabric of the town. The people of Jackson welcomed you and you welcomed them right back. People loved you and you got along with pretty much everyone. He started to notice you when he saw you and Ellie chatting about something girl related in the mess hall. He noticed how you seemed to genuinely invested in your conversation with Ellie, hanging on to her every word. Next thing he knows he's thinking about you every waking hour, and you haunt most of his dreams. It feels like you are a presence in his chest that he can't carve out and he has tried.

Joel had tried to occupy himself by relieving the tension himself, trying to dissolve the desire he had for you. It didn't work, of course, but he couldn't help himself.

He refused to actually make any kind of relationship with you, he felt like it would look inappropriate. He was a grumpy gray haired man and you were young and bright, he felt like he would be too rough for you anyway. He was a broken man, his hands were dirty with death and guilt and blood. He could see the innocence in your eyes, the way you smiled with your whole heart when talking to people, especially someone he cares for.

Maybe those were the moments he truly started to have real feelings for you, seeing the way you cared for Ellie. Everytime he would see you it made his heart skip a beat, it almost confused him at first, like his heart was waking up from a decades long nap. His chest hurt with how intensely he was starting to ache without you near, it only ever stopped when he saw you or felt you close or smelled your shampoo as you walked by. It was the same as everyone else as there was a lady in Jackson who made everyone soap but still when it lingered after you it smelled like heaven to Joel.

All that to say, Joel still felt like it was wrong to pursue you. You were and always will be the one that got away.

He needed to stay away.

YOU

It had been a couple weeks or so, maybe longer since you saw those grumpy brown eyes. You had started to miss him, as painful as it was to admit. Even though he was barely a colleague, definitely not a friend, you were missing the way… he was mean to you? No, that can’t be right. Why would you miss a man that is anything but nice around you?

Tommy had found you another job working at the local watering hole/dining hall, as the patrol thing clearly wasn’t going to work. He was walking you around the hall, introducing you to the people you would be working with when you heard a familiar voice.

“Hey Tommy, you here?”

“Yea Joel, in here.”

Shit.

“Oh hey Joel…” You wanted to keel over and die.

”H-hey.” He seemed… odd.

They chatted about something security related and you were introduced to the hall supervisor. As you talked on one end of the room, Joel and Tommy were on the other and it felt like neither of you could look away from the other. Your eyes kept finding each other, each time it felt longer and longer, like the world was falling away. It felt much different than the last time you spoke, like he might not actually hate you. It was an odd feeling, having his eyes on you, he was almost predatory.

Even as he looked over what felt like every couple seconds, he still had this pinched, angry look on his face.

But it was hard to look away. Joel was mesmerizing but you knew deep down he could never be interested the way you would want him to be. He was a grumpy older man that wanted nothing to do with the new young girl in town.

You didn’t see him for a while after that.

JOEL

Joel Miller was by no means a good man. A good man wouldn’t be watching you like this, following an unsuspecting woman around town. A good man wouldn’t watch you as you walked around the Jackson streets, minding your business, talking to your new found friends.

Ever since seeing you again at the dining hall he couldn’t rid his mind of you, as hard as he tried. He knew he would ruin you if you let him, if he even got one taste he would be addicted. Not like he wasn’t now, leering at you talking to patrons at your job. He felt dirty in a way, like he wasn’t allowed to look, not allowed to have the urge to bash in the head of any man who looks at you wrong. Like the guy you were helping now, Mike, every time you turned away to get him what he asked for, he could see his slimy gaze caressing your curves.

He felt like he was going crazy, not being able to be near you like he truly wants. He wasn’t sleeping well, barely eating enough to keep him upright and almost missed patrol on more than one occasion. His mind was playing tricks on him, he would find you in dreams, wake up to find you cooking breakfast in his kitchen or walking hand in hand down the streets of Jackson. The cruel reality that he would never have that always hit him hard in the morning when the sunlight came streaming over his bedspread.

He often found himself turning over, searching for you.

Sometimes they were nightmares, visions of you being attacked by the dead or one of Jackson’s very own.

That’s why he was here, making sure you were safe from the dangers of this world. It was his job.

He was there until you got off work, gathering your belongings and heading out the door when Mike popped around the corner. Joel was immediately on high alert, watching the man’s every move as he advanced on an unsuspecting you. He stalked after the two of you, staying just out of sight. His blood boiled when he saw Mike call after you.

She’s mine, he thought.

He stayed across the street, just in case things went sideways. In case he put his hands on what didn’t belong to him.

“Hey! Saw ya leaving work, how was your night?” Ok, nice enough but Joel knew he was clearly waiting for you to leave work.

“It was ok, just tired and ready to go home.” You were being polite but clearly trying to convey that you were going home, alone. That’s my girl.

“I’d like to talk to ya though, ya know i’ve seen ya ‘round and think you’re real cute. Come on, please? One chance?” He’s persistent, that's for sure. Walking the line there, Mike.

“That’s sweet but I’m not really looking for anyone right now, I just got here a few months ago…” You kept walking and you kept your eye contact away from him, smart girl.

“If you give me a chance I’ll show ya I’m worth it. I promise baby.” You were not his baby.

“I’m not your baby, Mike. Please, I just want to go home.” You turned towards him now with determination in your tired eyes.

Mike clearly wasn’t hearing you, or just not caring because as you tried to turn away he grabbed your arm and pinned your back against a wall.

He’s dead.

YOU

I’m dead. This stupid asshole is going to kill me. Your mind was racing as you looked for ways out. Mike’s front was almost completely pushed against yours now as he trapped you against the brick wall. You could now smell the alcohol on his breath now that he was on top of you. You tried to break free, maybe he was drunk enough where you could shake him off. You could tell that wasn’t the case when he groaned in delight.

“Mhmm, keep doing that baby. I like feeling ya move that pretty body.” You wanted to puke, his greasy beard and sour breath was assaulting your space. You froze your body in an attempt to get him off you but he leaned in, trying to capture your lips. You whipped your head to the side and squeezed your eyes shut trying to block out whatever he might do next. Only, when you expected his lips or something on you, there was nothing. His entire weight was gone and you almost slumped to the floor in relief. When you opened your eyes, there was nothing, no one in sight, not even a sound. Mike was nowhere to be seen, nor was anyone else. If you weren’t so relieved that the creep was gone, you’d be freaked out. It felt like one of those eerie horror movies you watched before the word turned into one itself.

You weren’t really sure what else to do other than go home. You walked the quiet streets towards your small house and barricaded your door that night, just to be safe.

…..

“Have you heard?! I can’t believe it!” Angela’s voice shook you out of your tired daze. No matter how you tried to occupy your mind or sleep last night you couldn’t shake what Mike did to you. “It was Mike! That’s who it was that was found behind the dinner hall.”

Mike? Did you hear her right?

“Wait, Mike, like creepy Mike?”

“Yes!” Angela never learned how to not raise her voice.

Mike was dead. He was dead behind where you worked after he assaulted you. That seemed… convenient. Did that make you a bad person?

“They are calling everyone to the town hall for an announcement.” This was the only time they have done this in the short time you’ve been here.

Everyone walked over and filled the hall wall to wall. Tommy, Maria and a few other members in charge of running Jackson stood on the stage of the building that looked to once be a school auditorium, including Joel. Your eyes caught him up there as soon as you walked in, recognizing his brown curls anywhere. Tommy walked up to the top of the stage and everyone immediately quieted down, they clearly respected him.

“Hey ya’ll… Uh, unfortunately it's not good news that calls us together today.” He was clearly nervous. “One of our own is gone, Mike Walton. Now I know in this world losing someone happens more often than we would expect but this one is different. It happened in our walls and we think, committed by one of our own.”

Murder. He was killed. Fuck.

The crowd was starting to murmur and quietly panic. You felt responsible somehow, like you being the last one to see him, you think, meant… something. You had to tell them what happened last night, if only to make sure they know now instead of finding out some other way. So they know you're not hiding anything.

You stayed after the crowd cleared, listened to Tommy assure everyone that they are safe and he is putting security measures in place. You went up to the stage and caught Maria’s attention, you felt comfortable with her and maybe she would be more understanding. She really helped you assimilate when you recovered and felt kind of like a sister in a way.

“Hey sweetie, how ya doing?”

“I need… I need to tell you something.”

She took you to a more private area and you told her what happened the night before. She listened dutifully as you recounted your story and it really made it strangely better to talk about it. It was by no means easy to forget but knowing someone was listening helped. After you finished and she gave you a reassuring hug, she brought you back to Tommy… and Joel.

“Ok hon, I will need to tell Tommy about this, I’ll only include the necessary things.” You nodded knowing you could trust both of them with the news. “Joel, would you be able to walk her home? I don’t want to take any chances here.” Maria did say to you privately that she was going to treat this as if you were in danger in some way, in case this turned out to be about you.

He only nodded in your direction, extending his arm, signaling you to lead the way. You walked the streets, the silent tall man trailing behind you. You stopped so abruptly that Joel backed up in surprise.

“I don’t need you walking behind me like a bodyguard.”

“Where should I walk?” His voice dripped with something dark.

“W-well…I don’t know, next to me like a normal person?”

All he does is silently walk up to you and nod forward urging you on. You kept walking, feeling Joel’s arm brush up against yours and the tension was building before either of you said anything. You arrived at your building in silence and he walked you up the steps, more than you were expecting from the distant man. You paused as you opened the door and realized something, if Maria is right and someone is after you, they could be in your house.

“Y’ok?” His voice was low and rough.

“Uh… actually, no. Joel, would you be able to come in… and uh, check it out? Just to make sure, I don’t know…someone’s not— not in there?”

You swore his eyes softened at your nervous request, maybe he felt bad. He followed you inside and had you wait by the door as he surveyed the rest of the house. He came back within only a few minutes and you were relieved it was quiet in the house.

“You’re all good here darlin’,” he stood by the kitchen counter almost like he was avoiding leaving.

But you didn’t want him to leave.

JOEL

He knew no one would be in your house, there was no one after you. Except him. He saw Mike put his hands and other parts on you and something flipped in his brain. He went feral and had been looking for an opportunity to take this guy out. He was a menace to the community but Tommy said there was no legitimate reason. Usually he wanted a blatant offense to take action or even exile someone. Mike was sneaky, that was the problem, he was good at hiding his deplorable behavior towards women behind being friendly with most of the male Jackson population.

Joel was so sick of it, and he likes to pretend that’s why he was there that night, not that he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. For weeks now he had been everywhere you were, coincidence of course. He needed to make sure that you were safe, that someone would be there for you. Even if he couldn’t have you, he needed to watch over you. You had completely consumed his life, every waking and sleeping hour he had his mind on you.

The worst of it he thinks was a few weeks into his obsession, he found himself across the street from your house, crouched in the bushes like a maniac. He watched your silhouette as you turned about the room, picking things up, gathering our belongings and just generally going about your home life. It was so magical to him to see you living your life unencumbered by the burden of how cruel people can be. He had to make sure no one took that from you.

He was pulled from his thoughts by your sweet voice. “Joel? You ok?”

“Y-ya sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you wanted a drink.”

“Oh, uh- sure sweetheart.”

He watched you go over to a cabinet and pull out a dwindling bottle of something dark that made his mouth water. You had good taste.

That's my girl.

You slid over the glass with a small amount of whiskey and you each sipped it slowly.

“Thanks for walking me home, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem darlin’, but I'm sure you’re safe. No one’s gonna hurt ya.”

“Sure doesn’t feel that way.”

YOU

“I promise you, no one will ever…ever hurt you again.” The way Joel said it, it was like he had murder in his eyes. He was so intense that you believed him, like he would protect you. You felt a thrill pass down your spine from his gruff voice. He was always a rugged man with his height, his broad shoulders and intimidating dark eyes but now, he looked downright deadly.

For a minute you worried that Joel could be responsible— no he would never. Even if he did, could you really be upset at him making this community safer? Did that make you a bad person?

He was looking at you like prey he wanted to devour. It made your pulse race, it made your core throb. The tension had been growing since the walk back and it was evident to both of you. Joel circled the kitchen counter to come right in front of you. Both your glasses forgotten, he caged you in with his hands on the counter bracketing your hips. Without a word he brought a hand up to cup your cheek, his calloused skin caressed your skin much lighter than you were expecting. The only sound in the house was your heavy breathing as he stared down at you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about Joel. Not necessarily bad but just something sharp and scary, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as he slowly leaned down to hover his lips over yours, asking for more.

Even if Joel was a bad man, fuck it.

You leaned up slightly to meet his lips and all self control went out the window. His hands were all over you in a second, hips pressed into yours as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Your head spun as he licked into you and nipped at your bottom lip causing a whimper to escape your lungs. It all became very frantic as he lifted you up onto the counter and bit and kissed his way down your neck. You knew there would be evidence of it the next morning and it kind of excited you to know you’d have Joel’s marks on you. His greedy hands were groping and squeezing every inch of you and you couldn’t get enough. With your own shaky hands you tried to unbutton his shirt but Joel stopped you.

“R’ya sure baby girl?” You swore you felt slick dripping down your inner thighs. “Jus’ gotta tell me and I’ll stop, ’k?”

All you could do was nod.

“I need words.”

“Y-yes,” you practically moaned.

“Good girl.” Fuck, his voice. Your hips rolled forward on the counter, trying to gain any friction. Your clit was pulsing with need and both of you were getting impatient. “Thank god, otherwise I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” He mumbled it almost to himself.

You gasped as he pulled off the counter and led you up the stairs in silence. Any other person would think he was angry but you knew, he was anything but. He led you to your bedroom and it briefly dawned on you that he was leading you there, he knew where your bedroom was. There was always something intense about Joel, you knew that from the start, it's one of the reasons you were drawn to him. But due to recent events you were starting to question just how depraved he might be. You hated to assume anything but you somehow knew deep down that he was the one who… saved you from Mike. That’s what it was, he saved you from being killed, or worse.

Once in your bedroom Joel turned and pushed you against the wall, attaching his lips to your neck.

He hummed deep in his throat, almost a moan. “Mhmm, darlin’ you are so sweet. Y’smell so good.” He was mumbling into your throat, half kissing, half biting. You were each pulling clothes off the other, desperate to feel skin. When Joel had you completely bare for him, you tried to cover yourself, mostly out of habit.

“You… you are perfect baby.” His eyes dark with desire as he pulled your hands up his mouth and kissed your knuckles. “Don’t cover up, I wanna see ya.” He pulled your hands away as he backed you up to the bed and gently pushed you back onto the soft quilt. You stared up at him, taking in his form, he was still in his jeans but bare from the waist up. You admired his graying hair that led below his belt, mouth watering at the bulge underneath. Before you could reach for his belt, he looped his strong arms under your knees and pulled your butt toward the end of the bed. With cracking knees he knelt in front of the bed and his face became level with your dripping core. His eyes were locked on you, his lips almost matching the way you drooled between your legs.

“Joel—,” you were unable to form words, the breath perpetually caught in your throat.

“Shhh, I know hon, I gotcha,” his voice was lower than you ever heard it, something dangerous simmering below the surface.

“Joel, wait—,” he moved up your body at your request. “I just… I’m confused,” you were shaking and out of breath but you needed to ask him. “I thought you didn’t like me… it’s just every time we would see each other you seemed to avoid me at all costs and now…”

“The only reason I was acting like that was because I liked you… too much.” His eyes hovered directly over yours, deep pools of obsidian overtaken with the desire. “I thought I was protecting you, from myself. But I… I,” he almost seemed nervous in a way, but there was still the underlying grumble of anger in his chest.

“What?”

“I see now that I have to protect you from everyone else.” He said it with such a darkness settled over his face, and it took you a minute to register what he was admitting.

He killed Mike. Holy shit.

Your whole body froze and you felt your eyes widen and breath pick up. But you also had this deep feeling in your gut, was that arousal? Were you attracted to this? That dropping feeling in your stomach told you that you were. Jesus, did that make you a bad person? Fuck it.

You grasped your fingers through his hair, pulling him down to you as you attached your lips to his.

JOEL

You were a vision, puffy lips wet from kissing, eyes blown wide as your chest heaved. “You protected me?”

Oh, fuck me.

“Of course baby girl,” he needed you to know this was all for you. He was yours and you were his. “No one will take you from me.”

He worked his way down your body, kissing and nipping his way to your center again. He spread your legs and stared into your dripping folds as he got onto his knees again. You whimpered and moaned his name and he relished the sounds, he loved hearing and seeing you react to his touch. He wanted nothing more than to hear you scream his name.

“I wanna feel ya’ cum on my tongue darlin’,” he loved the way your pussy drooled for him. Joel felt like a man starved, like he was finally seeing water after a year in the desert. He licked a broad stripe up your folds then sealing his lips around your clit and sucking. You screamed and he felt your thighs wrap around his head only spurring him on further. He pulled your legs in front of him and pushed to the mattress, opening you up further for his enjoyment. When he worked two fingers into you, he knew you were close based on your shaking and whimpering.

“I-I’m so close baby,” you sounded so cute, so desperate. “I need— please Joel.”

He wanted you to fall apart, speeding up his movements he knew it wouldn’t be long now. He curled his fingers while lapping at your clit, he felt your walls flutter and tighten around his fingers.

“Cum for me angel.”

You broke. Joel’s fingers were covered in your juices and you screamed his name as you came. He kept up his movements to prolong your pleasure, he reveled in the way your legs shook with overstimulation.

“Oh… my god,” you sighed as Joel crawled his way back up to your face, slotting himself between your legs.

YOU

He entered you slowly. You could feel every vein and edge of him and you were thankful he readied you with his fingers because Joel was not a small man. He started slow, presumably for your benefit, but soon his pace picked up and the crown of his dick was hitting a spot inside of you that made you see stars.

“Fuck— You feel so good,” he puncuate each word with with his hips, each time driving you up the bed. You grabbed onto his shoulders, trying to gain leverage but you were unable to do anything except take his brutal pace. He was past holding himself back now, you swore you felt him in places you never thought possible. You recognized somewhere in the back of your mind that letting the man who… murdered someone for you fuck you into your mattress might be a bad move. Too bad he was too good at it for you to care. You felt the coil of your orgasm tightening in your lower stomach as Joel leaned back, looming over you like a dark angel.

“I want you to touch yourself,” he pulled one of your hands towards your clit. “Cum for me baby.”

You pressed and circled your fingertips into the bundle of nerves, your pleasure just seconds from cresting. Joel must have felt it because he gripped your hips and pulled you into his lap, picking up his pace and punching into your g-spot.

“Oh fuck!— I’m gonna cum baby…plea—,” you couldn’t even get the rest of the word out as your orgasm crashed into you. You think you might have blacked out as your vision went blank for a moment and you think you heard yourself screaming. Joel kept up his pace and rode you through it all.

“Mmm that’s it, that’s my good girl…,” his voice was low and gravely in your ear when he leaned over, pushing almost all his weight on top of you while he chased his high.

“P-please Joel, cum inside m-me,” his harsh movements made it hard to talk, hard to breathe. You didn’t care though, you were desperate to feel him finish inside you.

“Inside you baby? Ngh, tha—that’s my good gi—,” he didn’t finish his sentence either as he almost collapsed on top of you. You wrapped your legs around his hips and held him there as he filled you up. He grunted and groaned in your ear as he came down, he pulled out slowly making sure you were comfortable and kissed his way down your neck and chest. “Stay here baby.” You laid there unable to move and watched his naked form as he found your bathroom with ease and came back with a warm washcloth. As he cleaned you, you recalled his words, ‘my good girl’. His.

“Joel?” He didn’t respond with words, only hummed at you to continue while he cleaned your inner thighs. “Did you mean it? I’m…,” you were hesitant to speak it, what if you were wrong? What if it was something he said in the heat of the moment. You felt the bed dip and he settled beside you, towel discarded.

“Use your words honey, what’s on your mind?” He moved a bit of hair out of your face and waited patiently for you to continue.

“I’m yours? Not just tonight.” You met his gaze with timid eyes.

“Yes, of course. Y’have been since I first saw you.” He kissed you deep, lips prying yours apart. “I protected you, remember? I wasn’t gonna let anyone hurt you, especially not him.”

He looked at you with nothing but truth in his eyes. He really did kill Mike, holy shit. He did it for you. In this world maybe you could rest easier knowing you had someone to protect you like that. Joel may be a scary man, but you had nothing to fear for yourself with him around. You slept that night more soundly than you had in ten years. wrapped in the strong arms of a man who chased your nightmares away.

[jetii]

Always

Pairing: Hunter x Jedi!Reader / Hunter x fem!Reader

Words: 16,083

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, hurt/comfort, forbidden relationship, a very heartfelt reunion, Hunter is a crier no I won't be accepting any criticism, smut, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, nipple play, marking, primal kink, scent kink?, breeding kink

Summary: Months after you went into hiding, Hunter hasn't stopped hoping, waiting for the day when you can finally be together again. Now that it's here, and there's no reason to hide his feelings for you anymore, he can't help but be a little overwhelmed.

A/N: I'm sure no one believes me at this point but I had no intention of writing this much. I was possessed by the spirit of romance, true love, etc. etc. Anyway, please enjoy some very soft, very protective, very affectionate Hunter. Thank you so much to @dindjarins1ut for the prompt!

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Hunter is nervous.

He tries his best to hide it, keeping to himself while Tech and Echo bicker in the cockpit, but he can't ignore the butterflies in his stomach, nor the clammy hands threatening to soak through his gloves. It's ridiculous. He's faced off against far worse than this. He shouldn't be getting worked up over something so small.

But it isn't really small, not when you think about it. He hasn’t seen you in months. No comms, no messages. Nothing. He knows you’re alive, and even that was a miracle. The last words he said to you were in person, when you were standing right in front of him and he told you he loved you, and he'd kissed you and then left with the promise to come back as soon as he could.

That was before the Republic fell, and every Jedi across the galaxy was marked for death. Before the purge and the Empire's reign began. Before you were forced to go into hiding on your own.

And he hasn't spoken to you since.

You haven't seen each other in months, and Hunter is terrified that the feelings aren't mutual anymore. That you've grown apart during your time away, and what he had thought was love, you now see as nothing more than a fling. He's scared you'll look at him differently, scared you won't look at him at all.

He doesn't know what he'll do if you don’t want him anymore. If he loses the best thing that's ever happened to him.

It's stupid, Hunter knows that, because even if you don't love him the same way you used to, you'll still be friends. He should just be happy you're alive and not worrying about something so trivial as his emotions, but he can't help it. He can't shake the feeling, and it's eating him up inside.

A hand settles on his shoulder, and he jumps.

Hunter hasn’t been startled like that in ages, not since he was a cadet, but here he is, nearly falling out of his seat at the sudden contact. It takes him a moment to get over his shock, his heart pounding, before he looks up to see Wrecker looking down at him with a frown.

"Hey, we're almost there," Wrecker says, his voice uncharacteristically soft, and Hunter swallows the lump in his throat.

"I'm fine," he says, but it comes out rough. He clears his throat, tries again. "I'm fine."

Wrecker’s eyebrows raise, and Hunter realizes a moment too late Wrecker never asked how he was doing. But his brother doesn't call him out on it, only gives him a look, one that Hunter recognizes as his attempt to look serious.

“You sure?”

"Yeah," Hunter replies automatically. He can feel the anxiety creeping into his gut, and he pushes it down, looking away. "Why wouldn’t I be?”

"I dunno," Wrecker shrugs, leaning back against the bulkhead. "You've been real tense all day."

Hunter sighs. He should have known Wrecker would notice something was wrong, even if the others hadn't. He'd always been perceptive, despite what people thought of him, and Hunter’s never been able to get away with hiding his feelings, not even when they were kids.

"I just..." he hesitates, wondering how to explain his feelings without making himself seem pathetic. Wrecker might not care, but Hunter still has his pride. He still has the strong desire to protect you, to keep you secret and safe. He knows Wrecker would never betray his trust, but still, he doesn't want to admit how anxious he's been, or how much the anticipation is killing him.

"It's nothing," Hunter decides. He turns back to look out the viewport through the doors of the cockpit. They’ll be landing in a few minutes, and he doesn't want to miss the moment you step into view. "Just... worried, is all."

"What for?"

"I..."

He can't say it, can't get the words past his lips, but the hand on his shoulder squeezes gently, and the unspoken encouragement makes the admission easier.

"It's been a long time," Hunter says finally, and the rest comes tumbling out of him, unable to be held back anymore, “We haven’t seen her in months, Wrecker. What if she's... I don’t know. Things have changed, is all. For her. For us."

"So?" Wrecker scoffs, and his dismissal of the problem only makes Hunter feel worse. He scowls, glaring up at his brother.

"So," he echoes, trying to sound stern, but he can't even bring himself to look mad, not really. His shoulders slump, the fight leaving him, and he looks away. "It might not be the same anymore."

For a moment, the silence is deafening, but then Wrecker lets out a laugh, loud enough to echo throughout the ship, and Hunter bristles, his eyes darting to the cockpit. Tech and Echo are still arguing about the finer details of landing, but he doesn't doubt they can hear every word they're saying.

"What?" Hunter snaps, glaring at his brother, but Wrecker only laughs harder.

"I'm pretty sure she won't have changed that much," he says, nudging Hunter's shoulder hard enough to make him sway. "I bet she's gonna be so happy to see us, she'll probably forget how to talk. Just like last time."

Hunter huffs, but he can't help the twitch of his lips at the memory of your first meeting, of how nervous you'd been, unable to string two words together without stumbling over your own tongue. You always did tend to trip over your own words when you were flustered. 

You had been rendered speechless after he'd told you about his feelings for you, your face flushed red, mouth hanging open in surprise, and he hadn't been able to keep from grinning at your reaction. You couldn’t form a single sentence until after you'd kissed him, and by then, it was his turn to be caught off guard.

He can remember the look on your face like it was yesterday, and the thought of seeing you again, of seeing your eyes light up as you smile up at him, fills him with a familiar warmth. He wants so badly to believe that your reunion will go well, that things haven't changed and that your relationship is the same, but a part of him, the pessimistic part that's kept him alive all these years, knows that it can't possibly be true. 

And Wrecker has no idea what you mean to him, because Hunter has never told him, has never told any of them. You're his secret, his one solace in the galaxy, the one thing he keeps from his brothers, the only thing he's ever wanted that's completely his.

And you were taken from him.

It hurts just thinking about it, knowing you were alone, afraid, with no one to turn to for help, while Hunter was hundreds of thousands of parsecs away. They'd spent weeks trying to find you after the Empire was established, scouring the holonet and every contact he could find, but it was like you had fallen off the face of the galaxy.

Hunter had never felt so helpless in his life.

So yes, he's a little scared of how this is going to play out. You were taken from him once, and it broke his heart. He's terrified that if you don't want him anymore, he won't survive losing you a second time.

"Yeah," Hunter murmurs, glancing out the window. Your home planet is starting to take shape in the viewport, the blue and green and brown and white all blending together. "You're probably right."

Wrecker chuckles, patting his shoulder.

"You know I am," Wrecker says cheerfully, and then he's walking away, back towards the cockpit to interrupt the debate Tech and Echo are having.

Hunter stares after him, not sure if he should be offended by the comment or not. He chooses not to dwell on it, pushing himself out of his chair to follow his brother. Tech spares them a quick glance, rolling his eyes when he sees Wrecker is already pushing his way into his space.

"Would you mind," he grumbles, elbowing the bigger clone, but Wrecker is unfazed, squeezing into the small space behind Tech's chair.

"Nah," he says, grinning down at him.

"Then could you at least wait until we've landed?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

"It would certainly make things less complicated."

"Guys, come on," Echo groans, his head hitting the back of his seat. "We're almost there."

"And what a relief that will be," Tech grumbles, pushing his goggles up his nose, and he looks at Hunter, his brow raised. "What is the matter with you?"

"Nothing," Hunter says, but he's a little too fast to reply, and Tech doesn't buy it. His gaze turns suspicious, but he doesn't push. Instead, he shoves Wrecker's hands away from the controls and starts his descent, taking the ship down in a controlled spiral towards the planet's surface.

Omega drops into the seat beside him and secures her restraints, and Hunter follows suit, though he can't help the nervous energy building in his limbs. He can't keep still, his fingers tapping an unsteady rhythm against his thigh, and when Omega's small hand covers his, he startles.

"Are you excited?" she asks him, and Hunter hesitates for a moment before he nods.

"Yeah, kid," he answers, and it's not a lie. Not really. He is excited, in his own way. "I'm glad we get to see her."

"Me too," Omega smiles as she pulls her hand away, and she turns to watch the clouds disappear as they sink below the atmosphere. "I can't wait to meet her."

"She's gonna love you," Wrecker says, his arms braced on Tech's chair. "You're gonna love her, too. She's real nice."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah," Hunter replies, leaning back in his seat. He can't keep the fondness out of his voice when he speaks, the memory of your laugh echoing in his head. "She's one of a kind."

Tech glances over his shoulder. "It has been some time since we last saw her," he says, and Hunter feels his heart stutter in his chest. He knows Tech doesn't mean anything by it, but he can't help but hear the implication in his words.

It's been a long time, and people change.

"Well," Echo says, turning in his seat to grin at Hunter. "Let's hope she hasn't forgotten all about us."

Hunter swallows the lump in his throat and forces a smile, nodding along with the rest of them, but he can't ignore the pit in his stomach. He wants so desperately to believe they're right, that your reunion will go well and it won't be awkward, that everything will be just like it used to, but no matter how hard he tries, he can't shake the feeling.

"It'll be... nice, to see her again," Tech says. "Even if it has been awhile."

"Aw, you missed her too, huh?" Wrecker grins, clapping a hand on Tech's shoulder, who swats him away irritably.

"She was a competent general, and she is a valuable ally," Tech replies, adjusting his goggles. "I didn't say I missed her. Simply that it will be nice to see her."

"It's okay to admit you like her, you know," Echo teases. "We won't tell anyone."

Tech shoots him a glare, but he doesn't say anything. He's focused on the descent now, the ground growing closer and closer, and when they break through the cloud cover, the land below them comes into focus.

Hunter leans forward in his seat, eyes straining against the sun. You live on a small colony in the southern hemisphere, surrounded by a large forest. It's isolated, and perfect for someone trying to lay low, but it's also a bit difficult to find, and Hunter doesn't spot your house until they're nearly on top of it.

It's small, a cabin tucked neatly among the trees, with a yard and a path that leads to a dock down by the lake. There's a ship parked outside, a tiny thing, and Tech guides the Marauder down beside it.

"There she is!" Wrecker booms, pointing out the viewport. Hunter stands up, ignoring the nausea building in his stomach, and scans the house.

And there you are.

You're sitting on the porch, a datapad in your lap, and you glance up with a hand shielding your eyes. It's impossible to make out your expression, but when the Marauder slows to land, you're already standing and hurrying down the dirt path towards them.

It's been so long since he's seen you, and even though he knows your face, has it memorized and replayed in his head so many times it's burned into his mind, the sight of you is enough to knock the wind out of him. You're smiling, waving up at the ship, and you look so happy that he can't stop himself from mirroring your expression.

You're here.

Hunter has dreamed of this moment for months, the day he gets to see you again, and the reality of it is even better than he'd hoped. He's barely aware of his feet moving, taking him towards the hatch as soon as the ship has touched down.

"Hunter?" Wrecker's voice is far away, barely registering in Hunter's mind as he practically runs towards the exit. "You okay?"

"Fine," he calls over his shoulder, his hand slamming into the button. The door hisses as it slides open, and a rush of warm, fresh air washes over him. The second his feet hit the ground, he's moving, his legs carrying him as fast as he can.

"Hey!" Wrecker shouts, but Hunter doesn't answer. He's halfway down the path, his eyes locked on your figure as you hurry towards him, and when you're close enough to touch, he's pulling you into his arms.

Your hands slide around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as he crushes you to his chest. He doesn't realize he's crying until he hears you whisper his name, but then you're laughing, soft and beautiful, and all he can do is hold you tighter, your scent enveloping him as he breathes you in. He can't keep himself from pressing his lips to the skin behind your ear, needing to feel the warmth of you, the solidness, the realness of you here, alive, with him.

"Hunter," you whisper, and his name has never sounded so sweet. Your voice, your hands, the sound of your breath as it ghosts across his skin, the way you say his name. All of it is like a balm to his soul, soothing his worry, and for a moment, everything feels right again.

Hunter lifts his head and cups your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look at him, and you do.

Your eyes are shining, tears brimming along the edges, and when you blink, they spill over. He thumbs them away, smiling so wide his cheeks ache.

"Hi," he whispers. You laugh, a sob escaping with it, and he feels his heart soar at the sound.

"Hi," you say back, and then you're surging forward, capturing his lips with yours.

It's a desperate kiss, the kind that says how much you've missed each other, how afraid you were of never seeing the other again. It's the first kiss you've shared in months, and it's the best damn kiss Hunter's ever had. The world narrows down to just the two of you, and nothing else exists, not the trees or the ship or his family watching from the hatch, their jaws hanging open.

It's just him and you, finally, blissfully, reunited.

He kisses you hard, and you return the pressure, clutching him close. His arms slip around your waist, lifting you off the ground for a moment, and you gasp against his mouth, laughing when he sets you down again.

"Miss me?" you ask, a teasing note to your voice, and Hunter pulls back just enough to meet your eyes.

"Yeah," he replies, and then he's kissing you again, softer this time. Gentler. His lips move against yours, slow and deliberate, and your fingers tighten their grip in his hair. 

He doesn't know how long it's been since he's started kissed you, or how long you've been kissing him, but it doesn't matter. It's not enough, could never be enough. He needs more of you, needs every part of you pressed against him, so close he can feel your heartbeat.

You hum, your hand moving to cup the back of his head, and the kiss deepens. Hunter's hands drift, sliding down the curve of your spine until his palms are pressed flat against the small of your back, and he pulls you closer. Your body molds to his perfectly, and you're warm and soft and so unbelievably real, and he never wants to let you go.

"Uh..."

The sudden intrusion startles him, and he pulls away from the kiss with a jerk, looking over his shoulder. The rest of his squad is staring at him, dumbfounded, and he can't keep the blush from creeping up his neck.

"Uh," he repeats, his face flushing. "Hey."

Wrecker's jaw is hanging open, and so is Tech's. Hunter doesn't think he's ever seen either of his brothers at a loss for words.

"We, uh..." Hunter clears his throat, glancing back at you. Your cheeks are flushed, lips swollen from the kiss, but you're grinning up at him, your eyes dancing. You give him a little nod, a silent permission to tell them the truth, and his heart flutters. "We were going to tell you, but things... got in the way."

Wrecker is the first to recover, his surprise shifting into a massive smile.

"I knew it!" he yells, pumping his fist in the air. "I told ya, didn't I? Didn't I?"

"That you did," Tech replies. His mouth is still open, but he closes it quickly, pushing his goggles up his nose before reaching up to scratch the back of his head. "Well, this is... certainly unexpected."

"That's an understatement," Echo mutters. He glances at Hunter, his brow raised. "So, how long has this been going on?"

"Uh..." Hunter's eyes dart to you, but you only smile at him. He swallows the lump in his throat and takes a deep breath. "It's been a couple years."

"A couple years?"

"Yeah."

"Years," Echo repeats. "Right. Okay."

"You could have told us," Tech says. He's looking at Hunter now, his face impassive, but Hunter can read the hurt in his eyes hidden behind the mask of indifference. "We wouldn't have betrayed your trust."

"I know," Hunter sighs, running a hand over his head. "We just... we wanted to keep it quiet."

"It was my idea," you say, and Hunter's surprised to see you look guilty. Your eyes are fixed on the ground, and he watches the way your bottom lip wobbles before you suck it into your mouth. You look up at him through your lashes, and he offers you a reassuring smile. You return it, but it's hesitant. "The Order's views on attachment were... a little different, to say the least. It would have put both of us at risk if anyone found out. So we kept it secret."

"Well, now you don't have to," Wrecker grins.

"No, I suppose not," you reply, smiling at him, but there's a sadness to your expression that makes Hunter's chest tighten. He can only imagine how difficult the last few months have been for you, what it's like to be in hiding, constantly looking over your shoulder. His arms ache to wrap around you again, to pull you into his chest and hold you close, to protect you from everything and everyone.

But he can't.

The Empire is everywhere, always watching. The war might be over, but the danger isn't gone, not yet. Not for him, and not for you.

"Can I come out now?" a voice voice drifts from the ship, and Hunter looks up, surprised. His eyes land on Omega, her arms crossed over her chest. She looks irritated, a frown pulling at her lips, and he chuckles.

"Yeah, kid," he says, nodding his head towards the ramp. "Come on."

Omega wastes no time in running out of the ship, her irritation forgotten in her excitement. She skids to a stop a few feet away, her eyes wide as she stares at you. You kneel down, a warm smile spreading across your face, and Hunter feels his heart squeeze in his chest.

"Hey," you say softly. "You must be Omega. I've heard a lot about you."

Omega steps forward, holding her hand out for you to shake, and you take it.

"Nice to meet you," she says politely.

"And you," you reply, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. Your eyes are soft as you study her face, a fondness to your expression that Hunter's only seen a few times.

He knows how much you love children. The Order never allowed its members to have families, but that hasn't stopped you from falling in love with kids everywhere you go. He's seen the way your eyes light up when you're around them, how gently you speak to them, like they're the most important people in the galaxy. 

He knows it's just the way you are, but sometimes, he wonders if it's something more. If maybe, someday, you'd want to have kids of your own.

And the thought terrifies him.

Not because he doesn't want a family with you, but because the world is changing, and he's not sure there's any place for it. You're in hiding, and he's a traitor to the Republic. How would it ever work?

He knows you wouldn't care about the dangers, though. You'd risk everything for a chance at a normal life, a family, and while he'd give anything for that too, he doesn't think he can allow himself to get his hopes up.

Not now. Not yet.

He's lost in thought, his gaze drifting to the trees surrounding the house, when a tug on his arm brings him back. You're looking up at him, an eyebrow raised, and when he blinks, you roll your eyes, a fond smile twitching at your lips.

"Sorry," he murmurs. "What did you say?"

"I was asking how long you're staying," you repeat, but he can tell by the look on your face you know what's going on in his head. You're giving him a moment to compose himself, a distraction to keep him from slipping into another spiral.

It's a common occurrence these days.

"Well," Hunter starts, glancing at the rest of his team. "We're kind of... between jobs, right now."

"That's putting it lightly," Echo scoffs.

"So we figured we could use a little vacation," Hunter finishes. He looks back at you. "If you'll have us."

"Of course I will," you smile, and Hunter doesn't miss the way your shoulders relax, the relief in your eyes. "Stay as long as you want."

"We don't want to intrude," Hunter says, his gaze softening. "If you need some space, we understand. We can—"

"Don't be ridiculous," you huff, nudging his shoulder. "I'd love to have you."

"Really?"

"Yeah, of course," you nod, glancing at the others. "All of you."

"Good," Hunter breathes, unable to keep the sigh of relief from escaping his lips. "I didn't really wanna leave anyway."

"Good," you say, leaning into his side. You rest your head against his shoulder, and Hunter's arm wraps around you almost automatically, pulling you against him. "I've missed you."

"Yeah," Hunter says softly. "Me too."

"Oh, yeah," Wrecker grins. "He hasn't shut up about you."

"Wrecker," Hunter hisses.

"No, really," Tech nods, adjusting his goggles. "Ever since we lost contact, he hasn't stopped talking about you."

"Not that he wasn't always talking about her," Echo teases.

"Hey," Hunter protests, but he can feel his cheeks burning, and he knows the blush is starting to creep up his neck. You're smiling, a knowing glint in your eye as you glance up at him, and Hunter rolls his eyes. "They're exaggerating."

"We are not," Tech says, frowning at him.

"Maybe not," Echo smirks, his gaze settling on you. "But now we know why he's been so weird about seeing you again."

"He's been weird?" you ask. You're trying to hold back a laugh, but Hunter can see the mirth in your eyes.

"He hasn't stopped pacing for days."

"He nearly fell over his own feet trying to get off the ship."

"Oh, yeah, he was nervous all right," Wrecker chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. "Never seen him like that before. I was startin' to get worried."

"Guys," Hunter grumbles. "Come on."

"Well," you smile, patting his chest. "I'm glad you came. All of you."

"Us too," Omega says. Her face is scrunched up, like she's trying not to laugh. "Hunter was so nervous he forgot how to breathe."

"Alright, that's enough," Hunter huffs. He can feel his ears burning, and he shoots Omega a pointed look. "Everyone, inside."

"Aw, but—"

"Now," Hunter snaps, cutting Wrecker off. He's not mad, not really, but he can't help the embarrassment. "We'll be there in a minute."

Wrecker opens his mouth to protest, but Echo nudges him, nodding his head towards the house. Tech doesn't wait for either of them, heading inside without another word, and Wrecker reluctantly follows after him, grumbling under his breath. Omega casts one last look over her shoulder, waving at you before disappearing inside.

The silence that settles over the two of you is heavy, and Hunter lets out a long breath. He runs a hand over his hair, avoiding your eyes.

"I can't believe they told you that," he mutters, but he can feel your gaze on him, the smile in your eyes, and his irritation fades.

"They're only teasing," you say, resting a hand on his cheek. You brush your thumb over his skin, and he closes his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he replies, opening his eyes to look at you. Your smile is soft, gentle, and he melts under your gaze. "Just a little overwhelmed."

"Me too," you chuckle, dropping your hand. He quickly grabs it, pulling it to his chest, and your expression shifts. "I've been so worried, Hunter. I thought..."

"I know," he whispers. His grip tightens on your hand. "I've missed you so much."

"I missed you too," you whisper back. Your voice wavers, and Hunter tugs on your arm, bringing you closer.

"I'm here now," he murmurs, tilting his head down. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

You nod, but the fear is still shining in your eyes. He knows that feeling all too well, the uncertainty, the constant worry, the doubt. And it's hard to believe him, he knows, when the past few months have been nothing but fear and anxiety. But he's determined to make it better, to do whatever it takes to ease your mind, even if it's just for a little while.

He leans forward, pressing his forehead to yours, and the contact makes you sigh.

"I'm gonna take care of you," he says softly, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. He strokes the skin with his thumb, his fingers gentle, and his heart stutters in his chest at the way your eyes flutter closed. "You don't have to worry anymore. I'll make sure nothing happens to you, I promise."

"You don't have to—"

"I know," he cuts you off, brushing his nose against yours. "But I'm going to. We're gonna protect you, sweetheart. All of us."

"Thank you," you whisper, opening your eyes. He's startled by the emotion swimming in your gaze, the tears pooling along the edges, and the sight breaks his heart. “But I can’t put you guys in danger. The Empire—”

"The Empire won't do anything," he assures you. "You're safe. We'll keep you safe."

"But what if—"

"Listen," he murmurs, stroking his thumb over your cheek. You suck your lip into your mouth, chewing on the flesh, and he gently pries it from your teeth. "None of that. I won't let anything happen to you. Neither will they. You're part of the team, and we take care of our own. No matter what."

"You don't have to do this, Hunter."

"I know," he says, his voice low. He doesn't want to push, doesn't want to force you to come with them, but he needs you to believe him. Needs you to understand. "But I want to. Please. Let me take care of you. It'll be good for all of us."

You're quiet for a moment, your brow furrowed, but then you let out a soft sigh, your shoulders slumping, and your eyes drop to the ground.

"Okay," you whisper. "Okay."

"Hey," Hunter says. His free hand tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him. "Trust me, alright? You're safe now."

You nod, but you don't look convinced. He sighs, leaning forward until his lips brush against yours, featherlight, barely there.

"We can talk more later," he murmurs. He's desperate to kiss you again, his whole body aching for it, but he doesn't want to rush you. He's willing to wait, no matter how badly he wants you. "If you're okay with it."

"Yes," you breathe, your hands coming up to clutch at his armor, and you press a soft kiss to his jaw. "I'd like that."

He lets out a shaky breath, fighting the urge to press his hips into yours, but then your hands slide up over his shoulders to tangle in his hair, and he groans. You chuckle, a sweet, breathy sound that has his blood singing, and Hunter's restraint crumbles.

He kisses you, slow and deliberate, and his hands are moving on their own. He lifts you into his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. You're pliant under his touch, letting him guide the kiss, and he licks at your lips, begging for entrance. You give it easily, and his tongue sweeps into your mouth, curling against yours.

His hips press against yours, and your body is hot against him, so soft and perfect. You taste so good, and feel even better, and the sounds you're making, the little whines and gasps, are driving him crazy.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight," he murmurs, pulling away from the kiss. He's breathing hard, his pulse thrumming, and he can't keep the smirk off his face. You look beautiful, flushed and breathless, and his desire spikes when your fingers tug at his hair.

"Fine with me," you smile.

"Good." He kisses you again, deep and slow, and his hands drift lower. "I've got a lot of time to make up for."

"Mmm," you hum, your head falling back. Hunter can't resist the urge to kiss your throat, his teeth grazing over the delicate skin, and you shudder. A breathy moan falls from your lips, soft and quiet, but Hunter hears it. He always does.

"Fuck," he growls. "You sound so pretty."

"Hunter," you sigh. His name is the sweetest thing he's ever heard, and he has to fight the urge to take you right then and there.

"We should go inside," he murmurs, brushing his lips over the shell of your ear.

"Mmhmm," you reply. You're nuzzling his neck, your hot breath sending shivers down his spine, and his hold on you tightens.

"Sweetheart," he groans. "I can't think straight when you do that."

"That's the idea."

"Come on," he says. He's reluctant to put you down, but he does, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment.

You look at him, your eyes bright, and your smile makes his chest ache. He wants so badly to stay with you, to pull you into his lap and bury himself in your warmth, to have the freedom to kiss you, touch you, love you, without having to worry about getting caught. He's never been able to do that before, always keeping you a secret, always worried about being found out, but the Order doesn't exist anymore, and now he has the chance.

And he's going to take it.

He's not going to hide his feelings anymore. You deserve more than that.

You reach up and touch his cheek, the gentle gesture enough to calm his racing heart.

"Let's go," you say, your thumb stroking over his skin. "Before they get suspicious."

"I'm pretty sure they're already suspicious," he chuckles, glancing towards the house.

"It's a little obvious, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he admits, his face heating up. "A little."

You laugh, taking his hand in yours. You're leading him towards the door, but he stops, giving you a gentle tug.

"Hey," he murmurs, waiting for you to turn around. You do, a small smile tugging at your lips, and he can't help the way his eyes dart down to your mouth, the memory of your kiss sending a thrill down his spine.

"What?"

"I love you," he whispers. He's not sure why he says it. You know how he feels, you've known it for a long time, but something about it feels different, now. Like it means more than it did before.

Maybe it does.

Your expression softens, the corners of your mouth twitching upwards, and he can see the happiness in your eyes, the fondness. It's a look he's familiar with, one he's seen many times, but the knowledge that he can see it as much as he wants now, without having to hide or sneak around, makes his heart flutter in his chest.

"I love you, too," you whisper, a smile spreading across your face.

"Come here," he says. You're in his arms again before you can say a word, his mouth finding yours, and you're melting into his touch, the kiss deepening, turning desperate. He has to pull away before his brain completely shuts down, and when he does, he rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavily.

"Later," he promises, his voice a rasp.

"Later," you agree.

He lets out a long breath, nodding his head once before stepping back. His hand slides down to rest at the small of your back, and he gives you a gentle nudge, nodding towards the house. You smile, reaching up to straighten his bandana, and Hunter can't help but chuckle at the action.

"Lead the way," you say.

"Always," he grins, and then you're walking up the path, the warmth of the sun enveloping you as you step onto the porch.

The door slides open before Hunter can even reach for the panel, Wrecker's smiling face poking out.

"Oh, good," he says, looking at the two of you. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about us."

"Of course not," you reply.

Wrecker's grin widens, and then he's stepping aside, his arm sweeping towards the inside of the house.

"After you, General."

"Thanks," you smile, nodding your head in appreciation. Hunter follows behind, his hand hovering at the base of your spine. Wrecker doesn't miss the movement, his eyebrows shooting up, but he doesn't say anything. He just watches, a knowing look in his eyes, and Hunter rolls his own.

"Not a word," he warns.

"Wasn't gonna say anything," Wrecker smirks, his gaze flickering to the hand resting on your back. "Not sure I need to."

"Don't start," Hunter sighs. He slows to a stop, crossing his arms over his chest, and you keep walking, a laugh spilling from your lips as you head towards the kitchen.

"Hey," Wrecker raises his hands in surrender, but the grin doesn't fade. "I'm happy for you. Both of you."

Hunter blinks. "Thanks," he says slowly.

"I mean it." Wrecker smiles. He claps a hand on Hunter's shoulder, a silent confirmation of his words, and Hunter returns the gesture. "You two deserve each other."

"Yeah," Hunter says, looking over at you. You're already in the kitchen, Tech at your side, and the two of you are talking rapidly at each other with Omega sitting on the counter between you. Tech's arms are waving wildly, a datapad gripped tightly in his hands, and you're grinning at him, the excitement obvious on your face. Echo is stirring a pot of something, the delicious smell of dinner drifting through the house, and he chimes in every now and then, his smile growing wider each time.

Omega glances up at him, and she gives him a little wave, her grin so wide her cheeks must ache. Hunter smiles back, his heart swelling, and he can't help but think, maybe everything is going to be alright.

You look so at home with his family, like you've always been a part of it, like you've always belonged there. And maybe you have. Maybe, this was where you were supposed to end up all along.

It's funny, how things work out sometimes. How, even after losing so much, even after having nearly everything taken from him, he somehow still managed to find something good.

"I guess we do,” Hunter finally replies, his gaze settling on you. He can't tear his eyes away, can't stop looking at the way the setting sun dances over your face, lighting you up in the most beautiful glow, the way your smile makes his heart beat faster.

Wrecker follows his gaze, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. "So, does this mean she agreed to stay with us?"

"Yeah," Hunter sighs, unable to keep the smile off his face. "Yeah, she is."

"Good," Wrecker says. His smile widens. "That's good."

"It's going to be hard, keeping things quiet," Hunter says, glancing at his brother. "We've got a target on our backs, and I'm not sure how much longer we can hide. The Empire will find us eventually, and when they do—"

"It's okay," Wrecker interrupts, holding his hand up. "I know. But it's worth it, right? To keep her safe? And Omega?”

"Yeah," Hunter says without hesitation. "It is."

"Then we'll do whatever we have to," Wrecker replies. He nods towards the kitchen. "They'll understand. ‘Sides, Omega's gotta have a mom at some point. Might as well be her."

Hunter's breath catches, his chest tightening. "Wrecker—"

"You're happy," he continues, ignoring Hunter's protest. "You haven't been happy since... well, not since I can remember. And she makes you happy. And she's good with the kid, too. I can see how much she loves you, and how much you love her. So, what's the problem?"

Hunter stares at him, the surprise clear on his face.

"I, uh... nothing. There's no problem," he stammers, his brow furrowing.

"Good," Wrecker grins. He nudges him with his elbow, giving him a wink. "She's good for you, Sarge. And we're not gonna let anyone take that away from you. No matter what happens."

"Thanks," Hunter replies. He swallows the lump in his throat and blinks back the sudden moisture in his eyes. Wrecker squeezes his shoulder, smiling down at him, and Hunter takes a shaky breath.

"Don't mention it," Wrecker says. "Come on. I‘m starving."

"You're always hungry."

"Well, yeah," he scoffs. "We gotta keep our strength up, right? Especially if we're gonna be fighting off Imperials."

He mimes a punch, his fist slamming into his palm, and Hunter chuckles.

"Yeah, alright," he agrees. "Let's go eat."

The two of them walk into the kitchen, Wrecker immediately making a beeline for the pot Echo is stirring, and Hunter makes his way over to where you're standing with Tech.

He stands beside you, close enough for his arm to brush against yours, but he doesn't touch you. He keeps his hands at his sides, his fingers curling into his palms, but the desire to wrap his arms around you is overwhelming.

He knows you'll let him, but it's only been a few hours, and he's afraid if he touches you again, he won't be able to stop.

Tech is explaining something to you, his hands moving rapidly as he talks, and Hunter watches, his head tilted to the side. He's only half listening to what his brother is saying, but he's content to just watch the two of you interact. You're so invested in the conversation, asking questions, listening intently as Tech answers, and Hunter can't help but smile at the sight.

"So, what do you think?"

Tech's voice startles him out of his thoughts, and he shakes his head, forcing his attention back to the present.

"Uh... sorry," he mutters, glancing at you. "What was that?"

“Tech wants to gut my ship for parts like a bantha carcass," you huff. You're smirking at him, amusement shining in your eyes. "He's trying to convince me to let him take it apart."

"It's not as though we have much use for it," Tech argues. "And besides, it would give me something to do while we're here."

“Aren’t you all supposed to be relaxing?”

“I happen to find tinkering with electronics quite relaxing," Tech replies. "Especially old ones. And it will keep me busy, which means I won’t be pestering you. So really, you would be doing yourself a favor by allowing me to do this.”

Hunter smirks. “He’s got a point.”

“Traitor,” you mutter, nudging his shoulder.

He nudges you back, his grin widening, and you roll your eyes.

"Alright, fine," you sigh.

"Excellent," Tech smiles. He turns his attention back to the datapad in his hands, his eyes darting across the screen. “Omega, would you like to help me dismantle this ship? It will give you a chance to learn more about the components of different models."

"Sure," she nods. She jumps down from the counter, landing with a soft thud. 

Hunter watches the two of them disappear into the living room before looking at you. You're smiling softly, your head tilted to the side, and he can't stop his gaze from wandering, taking in every detail of your face.

"You're staring," you murmur. You look at him out of the corner of your eye, and the hint of a smile tugging at your lips betrays your feigned irritation.

"Can’t help it,” he replies. He reaches out, his fingers brushing against your hip. The simple touch is enough to send a spark shooting through him, a warmth blooming low in his stomach, and his grip tightens, pulling you closer.

"Hunter," you laugh, your eyes widening.

"Hmm?"

"We're not alone."

"We're not?" He arches an eyebrow. "Didn't notice."

"Hunter," you hiss, but there's no bite to your words, just a soft laugh. "Stop it."

"No," he grins, leaning forward to brush his lips over your cheek. You shiver, goosebumps erupting across your skin, and he feels a rush of pride at the reaction.

"You're impossible."

"Only because I can be," he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your cheek. You sigh, your eyelids fluttering shut, and Hunter can't resist the urge to brush his mouth over the soft skin, trailing gentle kisses down your neck. You let out a soft whine, the noise so quiet only he can hear it, and his body reacts instinctively, his hands tightening, his hips shifting closer.

"Hunter," you gasp, your voice low.

"You smell so good," he groans. His nose brushes against your throat, and he inhales deeply, breathing in the sweet scent. It sends a thrill through him, a burst of heat washing over his body, and he nuzzles the skin, his lips ghosting along the edge of your jaw.

He doesn't want to stop. He wants to keep going, wants to drag his mouth across every inch of you until there's no part untouched, until the taste of you is burned into his memory for good. But he's aware of the others in the room, and he forces himself to pull away. He puts some distance between you, enough so that he can breathe, but he can't bring himself to move too far away.

"Tonight," Hunter says, his voice rough. He glances over his shoulder, making sure the others are still distracted, before continuing, "I'm gonna take care of you."

"Mm," you nod. You look dazed, your cheeks flushed, and Hunter feels a surge of satisfaction knowing it's his fault. "You'd better."

"Oh, I will," he smirks. "All night, if you want."

You bite your lip, your eyes sparkling. "Promise?"

"I—"

"Alright, I’m no chef, but I think it’s ready," Echo calls, Wrecker already heading towards the pot with a stack of bowls. He turns around, a spoon in one hand, and Hunter catches a glimpse of a wicked smile. "If you can pry yourselves apart long enough to eat."

"We were just talking," you argue, but your face is red, and Hunter has to bite back a grin.

"Right," Echo laughs, his gaze flickering between you. "Just talking. Got it."

"Echo," Hunter warns.

"I didn't say anything," he replies innocently. He waves his spoon at the two of you, his grin widening. "You can have your little chat after dinner.”

“Enough talking,” Wrecker groans, snatching the spoon from Echo’s hand and shoving him out of the way. "Food first."

"We'll finish this later," Hunter whispers, and you nod.

"I'll hold you to that," you whisper, brushing a kiss against his cheek before you pull away, stepping towards the counter. You glance over your shoulder at him, a sly smile curling your lips, and Hunter has to force himself not to follow after you. He waits until you're busy helping Wrecker dish out the food before moving, and even then, he makes sure to keep his distance.

It's difficult.

The need to be near you is overwhelming, and he can't stand the thought of leaving you for even a moment. But he doesn't want to crowd you, either, and he has to remind himself that you're not going anywhere.

You're here, and he's here, and nothing is going to take him away from you. Not again.

The thought settles over him, calming the ache in his chest, and he finally allows himself to relax, falling into an easy rhythm with the others as the six of you gather around the table. He takes a seat next to you, his leg pressed against yours, and his arm is draped over the back of your chair, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin. You lean into his side, your body fitting against his like it was made to, and the warmth of you is enough to ease the last bit of tension that's been lingering beneath the surface.

The rest of the night passes in a blur. Hunter loses track of how many times his hand drifts to your side, or his fingers slip into your own, or his lips press against your temple. Every time he does it, he expects a reaction from you, a protest or an admonishment or a roll of the eyes, but each time, you simply smile, your eyes crinkling at the corners, and he finds himself doing it again, unable to stop himself.

It’s easy, familiar, like this is how it was always meant to be, and the fact that he can finally hold you without fear of getting caught is a relief that's impossible to put to words. There's no more hiding, no more sneaking around, no more worrying about being seen standing too close together or his hands lingering too long. It's freeing, not having to hide how he feels, not having to pretend like his feelings don't exist.

It's the most natural thing in the world.

And he's going to enjoy every second of it.

Eventually, the meal ends, the food vanishing into Wrecker's stomach, and Hunter helps you clean up while the others disappear outside. The setting sun guides them toward your ship with Tech in the lead, and Hunter watches them go, his eyes lingering on the door for a moment before returning to you. You're scrubbing at a pot, your brow furrowed in concentration, and he can't help the fond smile that spreads across his face. He leans against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest, content to watch you work.

"You're staring again," you mumble, not bothering to look at him.

"How did you know?"

"I can feel it," you chuckle. You set the pot aside and dry your hands before hanging up the towel. "I always know."

"It's not my fault," he says, pushing off the counter. Hunter closes the distance between the two of you, his hands resting on your hips. "You're hard to resist. And I can't keep my eyes off you."

"You're such a flatterer."

"It's not flattery if it's true."

You shake your head, a smile spreading across your face.

"What?"

"Nothing," you laugh. "Just... the way you're acting. It's kind of cute."

"Cute?" He frowns, his nose wrinkling. "I don't know about that."

"It is." Your arms snake around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair, and you tilt your head to the side. "I'm used to the serious, stoic Hunter. I like this one, too."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mmhmm," you hum. Your lips press against his jaw, a soft kiss that has his eyes fluttering shut, and his hands slide down to grip your thighs. He lifts you onto the counter, and your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer.

"Is that so?"

"Uh-huh," you nod, and you kiss him again. This time, it's lower, right where his pulse is jumping under his skin, and he groans, his eyes falling shut.

"I didn't know you liked him so much," he manages to say, his breath hitching.

"I love him," you murmur. "As much as the other one."

"Well," he chuckles. He pulls away just enough to look at you, his hands cradling your face. "I think I can live with that."

You lean forward, and he meets you halfway, his mouth finding yours.

It starts off slow, a lazy kiss, his hands moving from your face to tangle in your hair. But then your lips part, and the soft sound you make is enough to light a fire in his veins, and he's kissing you with everything he has, pouring all his emotion into it. You return it eagerly, matching him stroke for stroke, and when his tongue brushes against yours, the groan he lets out is so loud he can't even hear the others yelling outside.

It doesn't matter, anyway. Nothing does, except the two of you.

"Bedroom," you gasp, breaking the kiss. "Now."

"Yeah," he pants. He grabs your thighs, pulling you off the counter, and you wrap your legs around his waist, his arms hooking under your knees.

He doesn't say anything else. He can't. He just kisses you, his tongue sliding past your parted lips, and your nails dig into his shoulders, a desperate moan spilling from your throat.

He carries you through the house, navigating the halls blindly, too focused on kissing you to care where he's going. He nearly trips over a chair, but he manages to keep his balance, and you laugh, the sound vibrating against his mouth. He breaks the kiss long enough to shoot you a playful glare, and you beam back.

"In a hurry, are we?"

"You have no idea," he mutters. He kicks the door to your bedroom open, shutting it behind him with his foot, and strides across the room. "Been wanting this for too damn long."

"Mm," you sigh. You're kissing his neck now, your tongue lapping at his skin, and his pace quickens. He feels the softness of the mattress hit the back of his legs, and he sits, his hands shifting to cup your thighs.

"Missed you," he rasps as you settle into his lap. You're straddling him now, and the heat of you against him is driving him crazy. "Missed you so much."

"Missed you too," you whisper, and your hands are cupping his face, pulling him towards you. Your fingers trace the outline of his tattoo, your touch gentle, almost reverent. He closes his eyes, savoring the feeling, and his breath hitches as you brush your lips over his temple.

"I can't believe this is real," he admits, his voice low. "I keep thinking it's some kind of dream, that I'm gonna wake up and find myself back on the ship."

"It's not a dream," you promise. You press a kiss to his forehead, his cheek, his nose, and then, finally, his mouth. It's soft, chaste, but no less intense, and Hunter sighs, his hands sliding up to curl around your waist.

"You're really here," he whispers. "I didn't think..."

"I'm not going anywhere," you assure him, and the conviction in your voice makes his heart ache. Your forehead is resting against his, your lips barely an inch apart, and he can feel your breath ghosting across his skin. "I love you."

"I'm sorry," he breathes. "For not coming to you sooner. For not—"

"Hunter, stop," you cut him off, your fingers pressing against his mouth. He quiets instantly, his gaze locked with yours. "It's not your fault. There was nothing you could've done."

"I could've tried harder," he protests. "Could've tried to find you."

"You couldn't," you sigh, shaking your head. "You know that. I didn't want to be found. I'm not even supposed to be here. If anyone finds me, I'm as good as dead."

"I won't let that happen."

"I know," you smile. Your thumbs rub gentle circles against his cheeks, and you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "And I love you for it. But we can't change the past. We just have to make the most of the time we have now."

"Right," he nods. He swallows the lump in his throat, trying to push away the guilt, the anger, the regret. "I just..."

"What?"

He lets out a long breath, his shoulders slumping. "Do you ever think about what it could've been like? If we hadn't lost each other? If...things had gone differently, and the war had ended the way it was supposed to?"

"Yeah," you admit, and you give him a sad smile, the corners of your mouth twitching upwards. "Sometimes."

"Me too," Hunter whispers. He pulls you closer, burying his face in your neck. You hold him there, your arms wrapping around him, and his hands drift up to clutch at the back of your shirt. He inhales deeply, taking in the scent of you, letting it fill him up, ground him.

"Sometimes I wonder," you murmur, your voice low, "what would've happened if we'd met in a different life. If we were just people, with no obligations or duties, no expectations or responsibilities. No wars, no battles, no death. Just us."

"A life together," he mumbles, the words muffled against your skin.

"Yeah," you say, and you sigh, a wistful sound that sends a pang through his chest. "A life together."

"We'd have a place like this," he says. He glances up at you, his chin resting on your chest. "A home."

You hum in agreement, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. "We would."

"We'd be happy," he continues. He smiles at you, a small, sad thing, and your fingers trace the curve of his lips. "We'd have a family. Maybe even kids. And we wouldn't have to hide."

"We wouldn't," you agree, a tear slipping down your cheek. He reaches up, catching it before it can fall, and brushes his thumb over your cheekbone, wiping away the dampness.

"I would've married you," he whispers. His voice breaks on the word, and he has to pause, taking a deep breath before continuing. "If I could. I would've married you, and given you everything I had."

"Hunter," you whisper, your voice breaking.

"I'm sorry," he sighs. "I just—"

"No, no," you cut him off with a shake of your head. You kiss him again, and he melts into it, the feel of your lips against his enough to soothe the ache in his chest.

"We could still have it," he breathes, his mouth moving over your jaw, the skin so soft and warm and inviting. "We could."

"I know," you reply, and you tilt your head back, allowing him access to your neck. He nips at the sensitive skin, and you shudder, a whimper falling from your lips.

"Do you want it?" he asks, his voice low. He's not sure why he does, not sure what he wants the answer to be, but the question falls from his mouth without thought.

"More than anything," you admit, and Hunter feels his heart skip a beat.

"Then we'll make it happen," he promises. "If you'll have me."

"I already do," you whisper, and then you're kissing him again, harder this time, with more desperation, like you need to prove how much you mean it.

His hands wander, mapping out every curve, every contour, every inch of your body, and your own exploration isn't far behind, the two of you touching and caressing and stroking in a way that leaves him panting, his heart racing.

"Please," you whimper, and the sound goes straight to his cock.

"Anything," he rasps. "Whatever you want."

"I just want you."

"You have me," he breathes. "You'll always have me."

You're kissing him again, the desperation in your touch increasing with every second that passes. He feels like his entire body is on fire, like the slightest touch could set him off, and he groans into your mouth, his tongue darting out to trace the seam of your lips.

He knows what you want, and he gives it to you without hesitation, his mouth opening wide as he dips his tongue inside, his fingers digging into your hips. You gasp, and he swallows the noise, his hands gripping the fabric of your shirt.

He pulls it up and over your head, breaking the kiss for only a moment, and he takes the opportunity to drink in the sight of you, his gaze sweeping over every inch of exposed skin.

You're so beautiful, it almost hurts to look at you.

You stare back, your chest heaving, your eyes dark with lust. You're biting your lip, and his own mouth falls open, his eyes widening.

He doesn't say a word. He can't. His brain can't seem to form a coherent thought, not when you're looking at him like that, and he swallows, his eyes darting to the swell of your breasts. You're wearing a bra, but it's not much, a scrap of lace and silk that leaves nothing to the imagination. He can see the outline of your nipples, the stiff peaks pressing against the fabric, and he can't help but reach up and run his thumb over one, the contact making him shiver.

"Hunter," you whimper, your eyelids fluttering shut. He repeats the action, watching in fascination as your chest rises and falls, and he does it again, the soft whine that falls from your lips spurring him on.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his hand cupping your breast. "So perfect."

He leans down, his mouth closing over the soft mound, and he sucks gently, his tongue lapping at the hard nub through the fabric. Your back arches, a broken moan escaping your lips, and Hunter feels a rush of heat shoot through him, his cock straining against the confines of his pants.

"Fuck," he curses, his breath hot against your skin, his hands moving to undo his belt. It's a struggle, his fingers shaking, but he manages, tugging it free and tossing it to the side. As soon as it hits the ground, you're pushing his hands away, taking over, and he grins, letting you take the lead.

"Here, let me," you murmur as your fingers work to unclip his armor. He nods, sitting back on his hands and admiring the view as you remove each piece, dropping them to the floor. The way your brow furrows in concentration, the softness of your skin, the swell of your breasts as they rise and fall with every breath, the warmth of your hands, the gentleness of your touch, all of it sends another wave of heat crashing through him.

It's breathtaking, the sight of you, and Hunter can't help the pride that swells in his chest. It’s not the first time he’s felt it, the rush of joy that comes with seeing the woman he loves, but it still catches him off guard.

He wonders, briefly, if he'll ever get used to the feeling. If he ever stops being amazed by how incredible you are, how lucky he is to have found you.

"What are you thinking about?"

You're kneeling in front of him now, your hands resting on his knees, and the question startles him out of his thoughts.

"Nothing," he says, and you tilt your head to the side, giving him a knowing look. He chuckles, reaching out to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking along your jaw. "Just admiring the view."

"Oh, really?"

"Really," he replies, his gaze dropping to the exposed flesh of your chest. He can't stop himself from leaning forward, his fingers skimming along the lace, before brushing over the delicate skin of your cleavage.

"Hunter," you whimper, arching into him.

"Beautiful," he says. His eyes meet yours, a wicked grin pulling at his lips. "I can't wait to get my mouth on you."

You blush, the heat creeping up your neck, and Hunter chuckles, pulling you towards him. He wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your chest.

“But first,” he murmurs against your chest. His lips brush over your sternum, his nose skimming the tops of your breasts, and his hands find the waistband of your pants, tugging the fabric down. “I want to see all of you.”

You moan, letting him pull the material down your thighs, your eyes slipping shut as his hands glide along your legs. You step out of the clothing, them aside, and he takes the opportunity to remove his pants and shirt, tossing them into the growing pile of clothes.

You stand between his legs, staring down at him in nothing but your bra and panties, and Hunter has to take a deep breath. The sight of you is almost too much, the need coiling in his belly threatening to overwhelm him, but he manages to rein himself in.

"Gorgeous," he whispers. His hands are on your thighs, his thumbs rubbing slow circles into the sensitive flesh. "Come here."

He pulls you into his lap, guiding you to straddle his hips, and you go willingly, settling yourself onto his thighs. He presses a kiss to the hollow of your throat, his teeth grazing the skin, and you sigh, tilting your head to the side, granting him access.

"You smell so good," he murmurs. His nose traces the column of your neck, breathing in the sweet scent. It sends a thrill through him, a wave of desire surging forward, and his hips jerk involuntarily, grinding against yours. His cock is straining against the fabric of his underwear, aching for release, and he can't stop himself from groaning.

"Fuck," he rasps, his teeth scraping against your collarbone as you shift. You're moving against him, a slow roll of your hips, and Hunter can feel his restraint slipping.

"Hunter," you sigh. His mouth moves down, his lips trailing over the swell of your breast, his tongue darting out to lap at the lace covering your nipple.

"You're driving me crazy, sweetheart," he breathes, his breath hot against your skin. "The things I wanna do to you."

"What do you want to do to me?"

He can't stop the groan that escapes him. He grabs your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh, and tugs you down, grinding his clothed erection against you.

"Everything," he growls. His mouth moves along your neck, biting and sucking, leaving a trail of bruises in its wake. "Anything you want. I'd do anything for you."

"Anything?"

"Mmhm," he murmurs, nuzzling your chest. He can't stop himself from licking and sucking, the taste of your skin intoxicating. His hands are roaming up and down your sides, squeezing and caressing, and you arch into him, your body reacting to his touch.

He slides a hand down your spine, his fingers finding the clasp of your bra. He makes quick work of it, unhooking the latch and pulling the straps down your arms. You sit back, letting the fabric fall away, and he can't help but stare, his mouth hanging open.

Your nipples are hard, pebbled and straining, and he can't resist the urge to flick his tongue across one, teasing the stiff peak. You let out a whimper, your fingers tangling in his hair, and he grins, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

"Oh," you gasp. Your eyes are closed, your head tipped back, and Hunter smiles against your skin. He continues his assault, licking and sucking, his teeth grazing over the stiff nub.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" he purrs. You nod, a soft moan falling from your lips. He switches to the other nipple, giving it the same attention, and you squirm in his lap, your hips rocking against his.

"Force, yes," you pant, tugging at his hair. "I missed this. Missed you."

"Me too, sweetheart," he murmurs. His hands move to cup your breasts, squeezing and kneading, and you let out a shaky breath, rolling your hips against his. "I missed touching you, kissing you, being inside you."

"Yes," you whimper. His fingers are plucking at your nipples, pinching and tugging, and you grind down on his lap, desperate for friction. "Please, Hunter."

"Don't worry," he promises. He kisses his way up your chest, along the curve of your neck, and nips at your earlobe. "I'm gonna take care of you."

"Good," you huff, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I've waited long enough."

"Too long," he agrees. He lifts his head, his gaze meeting yours. "But we've got all the time in the world."

You smile at him, cupping his face. For a moment, the two of you simply stare at each other, neither saying a word. He can see the desire in your eyes, the need shining bright, but there's something else, something deeper, and his heart swells, his chest filling with warmth.

Then, without warning, Hunter flips you over, pressing you down into the mattress. He hovers above you, his weight resting on his forearms, and he smirks when you let out a surprised squeal.

"Hunter!"

"Hmm?" he hums, dipping his head to kiss the underside of your jaw. You arch into him, a soft moan escaping you.

"What are you—mm, that feels good," you sigh, tipping your head to the side.

"What's that, sweetheart?"

"Nothing," you murmur. Your arms are draped over his shoulders, your fingers threading through his hair. He presses a kiss to your throat, his teeth scraping over the sensitive skin, and you groan. “Keep going.”

Hunter chuckles, his hands sliding up your thighs. He reaches your hips, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your underwear.

"Lift your hips for me," he says, his breath ghosting across your ear. You obey, lifting yourself up off the mattress, and Hunter pulls the fabric down your legs. He tosses it over his shoulder, not bothering to see where it lands, before turning his attention back to you.

"Perfect," he breathes.

You're spread out in front of him, completely naked, your cheeks flushed, chest heaving, and he's mesmerized. It's not the first time he's seen you like this, but it's been too long, and his memory can't compare to the real thing.

He traces a finger along your inner thigh as he settles between your legs, his hand gliding over the soft flesh, and he watches as goosebumps erupt across your skin. You're trembling, the anticipation clear in your eyes, and Hunter grins, enjoying the effect he has on you.

"Tell me what you want," he says, his fingers ghosting along your slit. He's not surprised to find you wet, the scent of your arousal thick in the air, and he inhales deeply, relishing the familiar aroma.

"I want you," you whimper, your hips bucking upwards. He places a hand on your stomach, holding you down.

"How do you want me?"

"I don't care," you pant, reaching for him. Your fingers wrap around his wrist, your nails digging into the skin, and he bites back a groan. "I just need you. Please."

"Soon," he promises. He kisses your thigh, his lips trailing over the smooth flesh. "Let me take care of you first."

"You don't have to," you insist.

"Oh, I want to," he murmurs, his mouth inches from your center. "So badly."

"Oh," you moan, your back arching as his breath ghosts over your sensitive skin. You're trembling beneath him, and Hunter can't help but smile. It's intoxicating, knowing how badly you want him, and he can't stop the pride that swells in his chest.

His tongue flicks out, teasingly brushing against your folds, and you let out a breathy sigh, your body tensing.

"Stop teasing,” you plead.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he says, though he can’t find it in him to sound apologetic. His fingers part your folds, and his tongue slides through your slick heat, circling your entrance before dragging up to flick over your clit.

"Ah, fuck," you moan as your eyes roll back. Your hands are clutching the sheets, and he grins, swirling his tongue around the bundle of nerves. You gasp, your hips jerking, and he grabs them, holding you in place as he begins to lick and suck.

He wastes no time, his tongue and lips reacquainting themselves with your folds, and the taste of you is enough to make him dizzy. It's sweet and salty, familiar and unfamiliar, and Hunter can't get enough. He buries his face in your cunt, his nose rubbing against your clit as his tongue probes your entrance.

"Oh, Hunter, yes," you pant, your hand shooting down to tangle in his hair. He grins against you at the praise, his tongue plunging inside, and you let out a strangled moan.

He eats you out with enthusiasm, his tongue exploring every inch of your pussy. He's not sure how long he spends there, his face buried between your thighs, his mouth sucking and licking at your cunt. It could be hours, or mere minutes, but he doesn't care. It's perfect, the feeling of you underneath him, the way your body writhes, the noises falling from your lips.

He fucks you with his tongue, his grip on your thighs tightening, and your back arches, a desperate whine escaping you.

"Fuck, yes, Hunter," you cry out, your legs wrapping around his head, locking him in place. He moans, his tongue plunging deeper, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He can't stop himself, his movements becoming frantic, desperate.

He needs more, craves it. Wants to feel you come apart, to know that it's his name on your lips. That it's his touch making you lose your careful composure.

"That's it," he groans, his breath hot against your pussy. "Come on my face, sweetheart."

He's not sure if it's the words or the way he thrusts his tongue inside, curling and stroking, but something sends you over the edge, and he's rewarded with a choked cry and a gush of slick heat as you clamp down around him.

Your toes curl, your back arching off the bed, and Hunter has to hold you down, his grip tightening as his mouth continues its relentless assault. Your walls pulse around him, clenching and releasing, and he lets out a growl, his tongue pushing deeper.

"Kriff," you moan, your hands clutching at his hair, pulling and tugging. He lets out a muffled groan, his eyes slipping shut, and he savors the feeling, the taste, the smell.

The fact that it's you, that he's the one who got you here, who made you come undone, is enough to send a wave of pleasure coursing through him. It's addicting, the feeling of having you like this, and he can't help the surge of satisfaction that comes with the knowledge that no one else has ever seen you this way. And if he has his way, no one ever will.

"Force, I missed that," he says once you finally relax, your legs falling from his shoulders. He licks his lips, grinning, and wipes his chin with the back of his hand.

"Me too," you breathe, propping yourself up on your elbows. "That was incredible."

"Yeah?" he asks, crawling up your body. He plants a kiss on your sternum, moving higher until his mouth finds yours. You return his messy kiss eagerly, moaning when you taste yourself on his tongue, and he chuckles, cupping your cheek.

"Mmhm," you sigh.

"Good," he murmurs, kissing you again. His tongue probes your mouth, searching for every last drop of sweetness. You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, and he grunts, his cock twitching at the feeling.

"Need you," you whisper, breaking the kiss. Your hands slip down, coming to rest on his ass. You give him a squeeze, a playful grin on your lips, and Hunter can't stop the smirk that pulls at his mouth.

"Patience, sweetheart," he says. "We've got all the time in the galaxy."

"No," you shake your head, hooking your leg around his waist. You pull him closer, the hard line of his clothed cock rubbing against your clit, and you moan, grinding against him. "I need you now."

"Kriff," he groans, his head falling forward. The heat is radiating off of you, and he can't stop himself from pushing against you, seeking relief. "Yeah, alright. But I wanna take my time with you."

"We can take our time later," you promise. You tug at his underwear, pulling the fabric down his thighs, and he kicks them off, sighing in relief as his cock springs free. A pleased noise escapes you at the sight of him, hard and straining, and your other leg wraps around him, urging him on.

"Sweetheart," he breathes, his hips rolling. His cock is trapped between the two of you, sliding through your slick folds, and the sensation is almost too much.

"Please," you beg, tilting your hips upwards. You're soaking wet, the head of his cock sliding through the mess, and it's all he can do not to sink inside you.

"Fuck," he hisses. His grip on your waist tightens, and he presses a kiss to your neck, his lips tracing a path along the curve. You moan, arching into him, and he takes the opportunity to capture your lips in another messy kiss. He can feel the desire pouring off you, the need coursing through your veins, and it's overwhelming. He doesn’t even notice your legs tightening around him, not until you flip him over, and suddenly you're on top of him, straddling his lap.

"Shit," he gasps, his eyes wide. "That was—"

"Fast?" you finish. He nods, swallowing hard, and you laugh, the sound sending a shiver down his spine. “I think you forgot what I am, Hunter."

"Never," he whispers, his hands roaming up and down your thighs. He takes in the view, his eyes trailing over the length of your body, from the flush on your cheeks to the way your breasts sway with every breath, to the glistening wetness coating your thighs and the base of his cock. "You're incredible."

"Yeah?"

"Mmhm," he hums. His gaze drifts up, meeting yours, and he smiles, the sight of you making his heart swell. "You're perfect."

"I love you," you say, and Hunter can't help the warmth that spreads through him at the words. He's heard them a hundred times before, but each time, it still feels new. Like the first time.

"I love you, too," he replies. His fingers brush over your clit, gathering the wetness, and he slides his hand down, taking himself in his fist. "Ready?"

"Yes," you breathe.

You rise up onto your knees, placing a hand on his chest for balance, and Hunter guides himself to your entrance. His cock slides between your folds, the tip nudging at your entrance, and you both moan, the sound mixing together.

Hunter has to fight to keep his eyes open, to keep his hands steady. He wants to watch as you sink down on his cock, to see the pleasure wash over you as he fills you. He knows what it feels like, to be buried inside you, and it's always been intoxicating, but now? After everything that's happened, after the fear and the pain and the longing, to have you back in his arms?

It's beyond words. Beyond comprehension.

He doesn't deserve it. Doesn't deserve you.

But he'll never stop trying.

You let out a gasp as he pushes inside, his cock stretching and filling you, and Hunter has to grit his teeth, his hands tightening on your hips. The heat is incredible, the feeling of being buried deep inside, and he groans, the sound coming from deep within his chest.

"Fucking hell, sweetheart," he grunts. His eyes are locked on where the two of you are joined, watching as you slowly slide down the length of his cock. "You're so tight."

"It's been a while," you say, your breath coming in short pants. Your brow is furrowed, your teeth biting into your bottom lip, and Hunter has to bite back a groan.

"I know," he breathes. His hands caress your sides, his fingers skimming over the soft skin, and he feels your body relax. You're fully seated on his cock now, and Hunter can feel the way your cunt flutters around him, squeezing him tight. You tremble, and he reaches up, cupping your face.

"You alright?" he asks, stroking his thumb over your cheek. You nod, the corners of your mouth curling upwards.

"It's been a long time. Need a minute."

"Take all the time you need," he says.

"Thank you," you smile, turning your head to press a kiss to his palm.

You sit there, staring into his eyes, the two of you just existing. He doesn't mind it. Doesn't care about anything other than the feeling of being inside you. He can't believe he forgot what this was like, how perfect it is, how much he loves it. How much he loves you.

The urge to keep you here, to never let you go, to keep you safe and warm and loved and happy is overwhelming, and he can't help but reach out, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw. He wonders if this is what it feels like to drown. If this is how people describe being swept away, pulled under the waves by the current, never to surface again.

He wonders if this is what they mean when they talk about being lost in someone.

Because he is. He's completely and utterly lost. Lost in you. Lost in the warmth of your gaze, the softness of your touch, the scent of your skin, the feeling of your body surrounding him, your heart beating in sync with his own.

He knows, in this moment, that he's not just in love with you. That he's not just madly infatuated with the woman in his arms. He's lost, and there's no coming back. He's yours. And he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that you belong to him. That the two of you are bound together. That there's no one else for him. No one else he wants. Just you.

It's not the first time he's felt it, this overwhelming sense of love. But it's the first time it's hit him so hard. Maybe because it's the first time it's been this intense, this all-consuming. Maybe because it's the first time he's actually understood what it means. What it truly means.

Maybe because it's the first time he's truly believed it.

"Hunter?"

You're staring at him, concern etched across your features, and he realizes, with a start, that tears are rolling down his cheeks. He hadn't noticed.

"Sorry," he mutters, hastily wiping his face.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he says.

"Are you sure?" you ask. "Because I've never seen you cry before."

"I'm okay," he says, smiling softly. "I'm fine. Just... overwhelmed, I guess."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," he nods. He sits up, bracing his back against the headboard as his hands cup your cheeks. "I'm more than fine."

"Okay," you say, giving him a worried smile. His thumb smooths the crease between your brows, and he presses a gentle kiss in its place.

"I promise," he murmurs as he leans his forehead against yours. "I love you."

"Love you too," you whisper. You place a hand on his chest, just above his heart, and he wraps his arms around you, holding you close.

"I don't say it enough," he says, his voice hoarse. "But I mean it. Every time."

"I know," you assure him. You kiss his cheek, your lips trailing over the curve. "You don't have to say it. I know. I can feel it. I always have."

"Good," he sighs. His hands move up and down your back, the tips of his fingers gliding over your spine. "Never forget it."

"I won't," you promise.

He holds you there, your foreheads pressed together, your noses touching. He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, letting the scent of you wash over him. It calms him, soothes him, and he feels his heart slow, his breathing evening out.

You shift, lifting your hips, and he gasps, the feeling of your cunt gripping his cock sending a jolt of pleasure through him. You smile, kissing the corner of his mouth.

"I'm okay," he whispers, his hands moving to grip your hips.

"Good," you say, your lips brushing over his. You start to move, rising up onto your knees before sinking back down. You both groan, the feeling of being joined sending a surge of warmth through him.

"Kriff," Hunter rasps as your hands find his shoulders, your fingers digging into the muscle, and you lift yourself up again, repeating the motion. His head falls back against the headboard with a dull thump, and you smile, your teeth scraping over the sensitive spot where his neck meets his shoulder.

"How's that feel?"

"So good," he breathes.

"Yeah?" you hum, rocking against him.

You're moving slowly, the pace torturous, and Hunter can't help but grind his hips upwards, trying to speed things along. You're having none of it, placing a hand on his chest, pushing him back against the bed.

"Slow," you order.

"Can't," he groans. His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, and he pulls you down, forcing himself deeper as his hips buck up into you.

"Why not?"

"Need more," he pants.

"Hmm," you murmur, nipping at his throat. "I thought we were going to take our time."

"Changed my mind."

"Too bad," you smirk.

Your lips find his, capturing him in a heated kiss, and Hunter moans, his mouth parting for you. Your tongue sweeps through his mouth, seeking his own, and he can't stop the desperate noise that escapes him as you taste him. He tries to move, to thrust up into you, but a weight presses down on him, holding him in place. He knows without looking that the Force is holding him down, keeping him still, and a thrill runs through him, the realization making him even harder.

"Fuck," he hisses.

"What was that?"

"Kriff, I hate when you do that," he mutters, glaring up at you.

"Do what?" you ask, feigning innocence.

"That." He jerks his chin towards the invisible pressure pinning him to the bed. "You know exactly what."

"No idea what you're talking about," you grin. You're still moving, the movement slow and steady, and Hunter lets out a low whine, his eyes slipping shut.

"You're insufferable," he huffs, his head falling back.

"I think you're the one being insufferable," you tease, placing a hand on his chest. You run your fingers through the coarse hair, dragging them down until they brush over the base of his cock. "If I recall, you were the one who said we should take our time."

"Well, maybe I was wrong."

"Oh, I don't know," you say, your fingers tracing the edge of his hip bone. "I think it's nice."

"It is," he concedes, hissing as you squeeze his balls. "But it's not enough."

"No?"

"No," he says, opening his eyes. He looks up at you, taking in the sight. Your skin is flushed, your lips swollen and parted, your eyes glassy and filled with desire. He swallows hard, his hands tightening on your hips. He knows there will be marks tomorrow, a reminder of what happened tonight, and the thought makes him twitch inside you.

"So impatient," you tut.

"Yeah," he agrees. "You're so kriffing gorgeous. And I want you so badly. Always. I can't get enough of you."

"Hunter," you gasp, grinding down on him.

"Yeah," he breathes, his eyes drifting down to where the two of you are joined. Your cunt is stretched tight around his cock, and Hunter lets out a moan, the sight making his mouth water. He's always loved watching you take his cock, loved the way it looked as it slid in and out of your wet heat, loved the way it felt, being inside you. But now, after everything? After almost losing you?

"Force, I can't get over how beautiful you are," he whispers.

You're moving faster now, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease, and the room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and heavy breathing.

"Fuck," you cry out as he hits that spot deep inside, and Hunter lets out a grunt, his hands finding your breasts.

"There you go," he says. He palms the soft flesh, his fingers finding your nipples, and he pinches them, rolling the stiff buds between his thumb and forefinger.

"Oh," you moan, arching into his touch. "Oh, that feels good."

"Yeah?" he breathes.

"Yes," you nod, rocking against him. You're bouncing on his cock, the bed shaking with each thrust, and Hunter can't tear his eyes away. He's transfixed, unable to look anywhere else. You're a vision, sweat beading on your brow, your body trembling as the pleasure builds.

His hands find your ass, pulling you down onto his cock, and he can feel the muscles flexing beneath his fingertips. He can feel his climax approaching, his balls tightening, the pressure building. He's not ready for this to end, not yet, so he grits his teeth, biting the inside of his cheek.

"You gonna come for me, sweetheart?" he pants, his hands roaming over the curve of your ass, squeezing and groping.

"Mmhm," you nod. You're leaning forward now, your hands braced on his chest as you ride him. Your nails rake across his chest, leaving angry red lines in their wake, and his hips twitch, trying to thrust up into you. The weight keeps him in place, and he lets out a frustrated groan.

"That's it," he coos. He can feel the tension in your thighs, the way your legs are shaking, and he knows you're close. He grips your ass tighter, helping you keep pace, and you whimper, your movements becoming erratic.

"Please," you plead, and he can't deny you, not when you're begging.

His fingers find your clit, his thumb rubbing the swollen bundle of nerves. Your head falls forward, your hair falling over your face, and Hunter reaches up, brushing the strands aside.

"Come for me," he says, his voice hoarse. “Come for me, and then I’m gonna fill you up."

"Yes," you gasp.

"You wanna feel it, don't you?" he murmurs. He's barely holding on now, the heat pooling in his belly threatening to overwhelm him. "Want me to fill you up, mark you as mine. Make you mine."

"Yes, yes, yes," you chant, grinding against him. "More, please, please, please, I need—"

He flicks his thumb over your clit, pressing down hard. Your breath hitches, your walls fluttering around his cock, and Hunter watches, mesmerized, as you shudder above him. You're staring at him, your pupils blown wide, your hair a mess, your skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

"There it is," he growls. The weight pressing down on him disappears, and he grabs your waist, flipping you over. Your back hits the mattress, your legs wrapped around his hips, and he pounds into you, chasing his own release.

"Yes," you cry out, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your mouth finds his, swallowing his moans, as his cock pistons in and out of your dripping cunt.

He fucks you, hard and fast, the bed creaking underneath the two of you. You're clinging to him, your nails scratching his back, and he knows there will be marks, knows that he's probably hurting you, but he can't stop, can't slow down. He's so close, the pressure building, the pleasure coiling deep inside, and he's desperate for it, his thrusts becoming frantic.

"Gonna fill you up," he gasps.

"Please," you beg, and that's all it takes.

His orgasm hits him hard, and he cries out, his hips jerking erratically as he spills inside you. He buries his face in your neck, biting and sucking, and you whimper, your legs tightening around his waist.

"Fuck, yes," you groan, and Hunter can feel the warmth of his spend leaking out of you, the mess coating his cock, dripping down his thighs. It's intoxicating, and he can't stop himself from thrusting deeper, trying to make sure every drop is buried inside you.

"Oh, Hunter," you moan. Your hands are on his ass, pulling him closer, urging him on. He grinds his hips against you, and you sigh, a lazy smile spreading across your lips.

"Good?" he asks, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"Perfect," you whisper. You cup his face, and he leans into the touch, his eyelids fluttering as he savors the feeling.

He doesn't want to move, doesn't want to let go. He's perfectly content to stay like this, holding you, his cock buried deep inside you, your hands stroking his face. You're watching him, your eyes roaming over his body, and he preens under the attention, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Well," he huffs, "I hope that was worth the wait."

"It was," you nod. You pull him closer, his head resting on your chest, and he lets out a sigh, his body relaxing.

"You alright?" he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the swell of your breast.

"Mmhm," you nod. Your hands are tracing patterns over his skin, fingers trailing across his back, and he can't help but shiver, goosebumps erupting in their wake.

"I'm not too heavy?"

"Not at all," you say. Your fingers move up, combing through his hair, and Hunter practically purrs, a low rumble rising from his chest.

"Good," he sighs. He tilts his head, his nose brushing against the hollow of your throat, and he inhales deeply, the scent of your arousal still thick in the air. He can feel the heat radiating off your body, and he shivers, the sensation sending a tingle down his spine.

"Hey," you murmur, and he hums in response. He shifts his weight, settling his elbows on either side of your head, and kisses your cheek.

"Hi," he whispers, his breath ghosting across your skin. He leans forward, brushing his lips against yours. You return the kiss eagerly, a soft moan escaping you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and he goes willingly, his hips grinding against you.

"Mm, again?" you giggle, your teeth scraping over his bottom lip.

"If you're up for it," he says, grinning.

"I'm always up for it," you smirk. You roll your hips, your legs wrapping around his waist. He's still half-hard, his cock slowly swelling, and he can't stop the groan that rumbles in his chest.

"Good." Hunter grins, capturing your mouth in another searing kiss. "Because I'm nowhere near done with you."

"Well, we've got plenty of time," you breathe.

"Plenty," he echoes, his hands finding your hips. "Let's make the most of it, then."

And he does.

He spends the rest of the night worshiping you, his mouth and hands mapping every inch of your skin. He leaves no part of you untouched, his lips and tongue and fingers exploring every inch, and you do the same. The two of you take turns, exploring and teasing, pleasuring and loving, until you're both too exhausted to continue.

Afterwards, you lie together, his arm draped over your waist, his nose buried in the crook of your neck. Hunter inhales deeply, the familiar scent filling his nostrils, and he lets out a content sigh. He can feel the ache in his limbs, and he's suddenly aware of how tired he is. He doesn't remember the last time he slept, and he can't even recall the last time he was able to relax. It feels like forever since he's felt this good, this safe.

This happy.

"I love you,” you murmur as you press a kiss to the top of his head.

"I love you, too," he whispers, his voice thick.

"I know," you chuckle, and he smiles against your neck.

You're both still breathing hard, chests heaving, bodies sticky with sweat, and he revels in the feeling, his arms tightening around you. He can't stop himself from kissing you, peppering your neck with gentle kisses, his lips ghosting over the delicate skin.

He makes his way up to your jaw, then your cheek, before finally meeting your mouth. It's slow, tender, filled with a sense of intimacy he hasn't felt in a long time, and it's enough to make him tear up. His hand cradles your cheek, his thumb stroking the skin, and he closes his eyes, savoring the moment.

He never thought he'd have this. Never thought he'd get a chance.

And now that he does? Now that he's got you here, in his arms, where he's meant to be?

"I'm not letting you go again," he mumbles, his forehead pressed against yours. "I don't care what it takes, I'm not letting anyone or anything take you from me."

"Hunter," you start, but he cuts you off.

"I know. I know, you can handle yourself, you're more than capable. I know all that. But I'm still going to be there. I'm always going to be there."

"I know," you say, your hand cupping his cheek.

"Do you?"

His eyes search yours, searching for any hint of hesitation, any sign of doubt. He finds none. Just warmth. Just love.

"Yes," you whisper.

"Good," he nods. He pulls back, just enough to look into your eyes. He doesn't think he'll ever get tired of seeing you like this, bare and vulnerable, looking at him like that. Like he's the only person who matters.

"I meant what I said earlier," he says. "About wanting a family. A future."

"Me too," you smile.

"Really?"

"Yes," you nod, placing a hand on his chest. Your fingertips trace over the curve of his collarbone, and he shivers. "I want that with you. I always have."

"Even after everything?"

"Especially after everything," you assure him. "I've always wanted a future with you, Hunter. Ever since we met. I know you're scared. I am too. But I love you, and I want this. Us. All of it."

"Okay," he says, smiling.

"Okay," you repeat, returning the smile.

He pulls you into another kiss, his hand cradling the back of your neck, and the two of you stay like that, kissing and touching and loving, until exhaustion takes over. You curl up against him, your head on his chest, his arms wrapped around you, and he feels his eyes begin to droop. He can't remember the last time he was this relaxed, the last time he was this comfortable. The last time he felt so safe. So loved.

And for the first time in a long time, Hunter doesn't worry. He doesn't stress. He doesn't plan.

Instead, he closes his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips, and he lets the world fade away.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

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@marchingviolinist @deerspringdreams

[ghostssweetgirl]

hii again <3

this request is a litttlleee bit darker than usual but here we go

how would 141 react when someone slips something in readers drink at a bar?? like would ghost immediately stand up and beat the mf up?? 🥹

hi! omg they would all stand up and immediately beat some ass frfr & i LOVE dark stuff, dw :) <3 i'm not that good at writing action scenes but i hope this is goooood bc i do love the idea that they would fight for u

TF141 and How They'd React to Someone Slipping Something Into Your Drink

cw: alcohol intake, mentions of drugs, violence & blood

Captain John Price

He took the team out for drinks, sitting around the bar top. Everyone was having their own conversation, and it made his heart happy to see his people laughing with smiling faces.

While he was in a corner seat, he was making sure to keep an eye out on his team, as a good captain should.

You turned around for a minute, distracted. Soon as you weren't looking, some creep had sprinkled a powdered form of a drug into your drink, causing it to fizzle.

Of course, you didn't notice as you were watching a group of people playfully argue over their pool game.

You jumped back around when all of a sudden your captain's hands were at this guy's throat.

"You really thought you'd get away with that?" Price growled.

"Mind your fuckin' business, will you?" the creep retorted.

You made eye contact with Price, confused as to what was happening. "What the fuck," you whispered.

"Take it outside," the bartender said.

"Gladly, sir," Price chuckled darkly, dragging the guy by his shirt.

A few moments later, Price returned, kindly smiling at you. You could see the adrenaline pumping through his veins at his reddened face.

"Let's order you a new drink, yeah? Fucker ruined this one."

John 'Soap' MacTavish

You took a few sips out of your first drink, setting it down.

You smiled around at your comrades, happy to be there. A random chick walked up to you, asking you what you recommended her to order as she was new here and she just turned of age to start drinking.

You were busy chatting away, getting to know her, not noticing the random arm swooping around you, drugging your beverage.

Soap sitting next to you, picked up your drink and swiftly got up without a word.

"You okay, Soap?" you turned to him. You recognized the look in his eyes - anger. "M-my drink! What are you doing with it?"

He cornered the guy, not saying a word. His chest rose and fell heavily as he tilted his head, throwing the drink in the man's face before punching the shit out of him. He tried to fight back, missing his swing as Soap got him on the ground.

The bartender held his hands up, trying to politely ask them to take it outside but Soap was too quick in his actions.

Blood quickly splattered across the concrete floor, as well as across Soap's face and uniform.

"Get the fuck outta here," Soap demanded him, towering above him as he cowardly rose off the ground, basically tucking his tail as he ran out of the bar door. Soap looked at the bartender and back at the blood. "I'll clean it up."

He returned to his seat shortly after, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "Let's get you a fresh drink, lass."

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

You were laughing at one of Price's jokes with your drink in hand. As you laughed, your hand went outwards, giving perfect access for some weirdo to walk up and put a drug in it.

Gaz watched the interaction silently, taking your drink away from you while you wouldn't notice it.

In your drunkenness, you ordered a new drink, and it was quickly given to you but as you turned around, Gaz was gone. You looked around the building, and to your surprise he was face to face with someone, having a silent, heated conversation with someone.

The guy held his hands up in defense, seeming to try to explain himself.

Gaz looked at you, seeing your worried face. The creep met your gaze and he winked at you, his lips were moving but you couldn't tell what he said.

When suddenly, Gaz smiled. You couldn't tell if it was a genuine smile or the type of smile you give someone when you're really about to give it to them.

It was the latter. Gaz hiked his knee up, bringing the man's face down to connect with it sharply. Blood painted a small patch into Gaz's pants and blood leaked down the man's face. Clearly disoriented, he tried to fight back but Gaz landed one last blow before the man held his head down, regaining his balance, shortly leaving afterwards.

The bartender sighed, walking over with cleaning supplies and Gaz helped him out.

"What... was that about, Garrick?" you whispered.

"Don't worry 'bout it. Enjoy your 'good' drink," he rolled his eyes, and from that you could tell what had happened, happy to have been around your teammates when this happened.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

You had finished quite a handful of drinks, making sure this was your last one.

You took a few first sips before setting it down, joining the conversation with your teammates.

Ghost, as usual, was quiet. Nodding along and joining the conversation when needed. He had been keeping his eyes peeled for something to happen.

Price complimented you and Ghost's teamwork, which you happily thanked him and smiled at Ghost who nodded at you, but his eyes weren't on you. They were focused at the left side of you.

You felt a presence, and before you could turn around it was gone. Looking back around, Ghost was gone, too. Damn, that was quick.

Trying to shrug it off, you go to grab your drink but couldn't find it. Now, what the fuck?

You look around confused, seeing your teammates eyeing the corner, so you follow their gaze.

Seeing Ghost, towering over someone, hand on his knife. Your eyes widened, hoping he didn't have to use it. He held your missing cup up to the man's face as if he was interrogating him. He was.

The man was near crying, lips stammering as he tried to explain himself, but Ghost wasn't having it. Ghost must have said something to set the guy off because he thought it would be a good idea to try and push past Ghost. The glass shattered from Ghost's grip. His body tensed up before one large hand clasped around the creep's throat, lifting him up the wall. He gasped for air until his face scrunched in pain as Ghost's fist met it with a violent punch. Then another. And another.

The bartender seemed annoyed, but Ghost couldn't give a shit. He let go of the now-unconscious man, letting his body fall to the ground.

Ghost sighed as he sat back down, nodding at you. You awkwardly smiled, putting two and two together on what happened.

"Thanks, Ghost..." you said.

"Want a fresh drink, luv? Sorry 'bout your last one," he asked.

"After that, yeah..."

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

This just popped up in my mind and I just wnated you to picture this

So imagine a teen kid coming to the slendermanor and obviously they're a teen so everyone expects them to be loud and trouble in general because teens are teens at the end of the day. Just to find out that the teen is actually very mature because they were forced into a situation where they had to be mature at a young age and they're just quiet(but also have mad good murder tactics). Like i just imagine jeff trying to scare the child for shits and giggles and they just stare at him like 🙂

Summary: Quiet teen reader gets into shenanigans in the manor

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

A/n: The battle between Jeff and children is an age old war that I don't see ending anytime soon. ALSO SIDE NOTE, I'm probably gonna be changing up my format for writing majorly soon because im tired of looking at it lolz

Credits: Any Creepypasta characters used- Creepypasta, Divider- saradika-graphics, Picture- Pinterest

Creeps x mature!teen!reader

Generally when kids are brought into the manor, everyone's vibe is "Aw man that's really sad :(" even if they are a teen

Of course, once they get over the sadness, the anxiety starts peeking through

Like not even just teens, all kids are rowdy and annoying so no one really wants to deal with that

So when you get there and you're chill they're like "oh thank god"

No one likes rowdy kids

However, even that can have its hinderances

Like, it's definetly nothing as bad as you being crazy around the manor, but more so just concerning habits

For example, Brian can never do his job as a caretaker, because he'll be coming down the stairs only to see that all of his assigned kids are already out of bed

And when he finally finds them, they are watching T.V

He will ask "Are you guys ready for breakfast?" and they will reply "No thanks, y/n fed us!"

Or E.J, who as we know can't stand dirty things or unhygienic things, will be so confused when that pile of trash he commented on is suddenly gone only a few minutes later

Or his fridge will magically be cleaned out right when he was about to go and do it

Toby will be wondering where on earth his favorite hoodie and hatches went, only to find you out back sharpening and cleaning them, and his hoodie in the washer

Everyone is grateful for your help and all, but it's a little strange?

Like why do you feel the need to do these things? Do you just like helping out or do you feel you need to?

Then there's Ben and Jeff

No fucks given

So what if you're like 13? Jeff was being lit on fire at that age, grow tf up 🙄

Anyways, they both get a kick out of scaring kids

Jeff more than Ben, but it's a fun little friendship activity they do together <333

So when you are exploring the manor one day, suddenly Jeff bumps into you, being waaay nicer than usual

"Hey, y/n! I was just looking for you!"

"Oh, Hello Jeff. Did you need something?"

He'll grin real big and hold your shoulders "Yeah, I just need to test something real quick, so don't move. Just stay exactly like this, kay?"

You nod and do as told, but Jeff doesn't move either, he just stands still, still holding onto your shoulders and staring into your eyes

You then feel a chill go up your spine, and all of a sudden a horrifying warped face that looks as if it was straight out of an analog horror jumps right in front of you

You do jump a little, but other than that, there's no reaction

Jeff immediately drops the act and lets go of you "Ugh, really? Whatever loser, I'll go find someone else to scare"

And with that, he stomps off, but Ben stays for a little bit, his face still contorted into that scary one

He wiggles his fingers and makes an "Oooooo" sound before also walking off behind Jeff

They lose interest in you very quickly after realizing you won't give them a satisfactory reaction

[mypoisonedvine]

𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗲 | dark-ish!joel miller x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | when you don't have enough rations to get your fix, you have to find something else to trade

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | a bit under 5k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | dubious consent SMUT (18+ only; unprotected sex, oral m receiving, creampie, sex as currency), orgasm control, slapping, choking, spanking, very dirty talk including degradation (slut, whore, etc.), possessiveness, discussions/threats of anal but no actual anal, just a touch of daddy kink and sir kink, implied age gap but not specified, joel is a lil mean but in a sexy way, reader is a pill user/addict

You chewed your nails nervously as you watched him walk up to your usual spot; you tried to act casual, but the more of this stuff you got, the more you needed it— and the more you needed, the harder it was to act casual when you knew it was coming.

“You got the stuff?” you asked quickly, giving your anxiousness away.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, “you got the rations?”

You didn’t respond, even with a nod, you just pulled the stack of papers out of your pocket and handed them over. Your foot tapped on the ground— a little tacky, mud’s still drying from the storm two days ago— as he flipped through them.

It’s hard to say what you expected. Like he’d forget how to count or something? “This isn’t enough,” he informed you flatly, looking up from the stack to shoot you a glare.

“C’mon, Joel, be cool,” you whimpered, “so I’m a little short—”

“A little short?” he repeated. “This is less than half what you owe me.”

“Less than half? That’s fourteen— your prices went up?” you wondered.

“No,” he shook his head, seeming frustrated, “what you owe for today plus what you owe from when I spotted you for last week’s fix—”

“Fuck,” you groaned, “I forgot, I’m sorry— but you know I’m good for it.”

He tried to hand the ration cards back to you, and you bit your lip to stop it from shaking.

“I need this, Joel— you know I need this,” you began to ramble, but he stopped you with a tight grip on your shoulder. Looking him in the eyes, you cowered a bit just from how intense his stare was.

“You need to get it together, kid,” he warned you, but you were only halfway paying attention.

“M’not a kid,” you defended yourself quietly, though your mind was already somewhere else as your eyes on the hand holding your shoulder. "I'm low on rations," you admitted, "but I can get you something else."

He gave you a confused look, until you reached forward and rested a hand gently on his chest, through the heavy dark green jacket he wore. Then he understood, and gave you a disappointed look. "I don't do that."

"Do what, relax? Take some time for yourself?" you pressed, letting your teeth catch your bottom lip slightly. His eyes did linger on your mouth for a moment, and you hoped this was working. "How long's it been since you got some?"

"Not that long," he said defensively, letting go of your shoulder, but you stepped closer to him and kept sizing him up.

"How long's it been since you got whatever you wanted?"

That seemed to get his attention a bit better. "You can't just say that— you can't just offer that," he corrected firmly. "You say that to the wrong creep trying to get extra cigarettes or something and you end up—"

"M'not saying it to anybody else, Joel," you promised, "this is just for you— I never traded something like this before, but, you know… we go back, and I trust you."

He raised an eyebrow at you. "Can I trust you?"

Smiling, you pressed your body up against his; he stiffened up— not in the way you were hoping, either— but didn't stop you. "Trust me how? What would I do?"

"I dunno," he muttered.

"I think the better question is, Joel," you lowered your voice as you looked at him through your lashes, "do you think I'm pretty?"

He scoffed, but you saw right through it. He was trying to tell himself he was better than this, that he needed the rations more, that you weren't worth the trouble. But his neck flexed and you knew you were in.

"Honestly, you'd be doing me a favor," you shrugged, standing up on your tiptoes so you could whisper in his ear: "I always wanted to suck your cock."

"Goddamnit," he hissed, and you thought he was about to throw you off when he grabbed your arm. Instead, he started to walk and guide you with him. "Not here."

He took you, eventually, to his room— it was much more spacious than most, especially yours, and you wondered what you'd have to do to get to spend a night here.

A second later, he pulled you into him; his hands ran up your back, and you smiled as he pressed against you. "Lemme see you first, baby, lemme see you," he whispered, helping you out of your shirt and sighing as he grabbed handfuls of your tits.

Your hands, meanwhile, rubbed the front of his jeans— but he wasn't hard yet, at least not much. Not until he unbuckled your pants and pushed them down along with your underwear, immediately groping your bare ass with a sigh.

"Got a nice ass," he decided, jiggling it briefly with his hand— and before you could react to that, he slipped that hand around and cupped your pussy with it, sliding one finger between the seam of your lips.

"Fuck, Joel," you whispered, reeling a bit from how sudden it all was.

But then it stopped— just as instantly as it had started— and he sat down on the couch. "Well?" he prompted after you just stood there dumbfounded for a moment.

He kept his legs spread wide, and put his hands up behind his head as he leaned back. Why was that so hot?

Swallowing, you got down on your knees between his, running your hands up his denim-covered legs for just a moment before finding his belt.

He let you do the work, opening the buckle and sliding the leather out, reaching into the fly and pulling out—

Fuck, he was big. Thick as hell, a fat head with a vein running up the side… you let your mouth water, knowing it would make this easier, and held his shaft tight as you began to lean forward.

"Hey," he said suddenly, making you stop for a second. "You better make it good for me, or no pills."

Looking up at him and hoping your eyes didn't give your nervousness away, you nodded. He smiled, and leaned back to really sink into the couch.

You started with just a few gentle, teasing licks to the tip, one right over his slit, and his only reaction was adjusting his leg a bit. Taking the head in your mouth, you suckled carefully, letting excess spit run down until it collided with your hand at his base.

It wasn't until he started to get harder in your mouth that you realized he wasn't fully hard before. You knew he was hard enough and thought maybe that was where it capped out for a man his age— no, clearly not, and you felt your hand struggle to wrap fully around his girth as he grew even more.

Trying to sink your lips down further, you had to open up your jaw like you never had before; it wasn't painful per se, but it was an odd feeling, and your lips were a little dry to be stretched this far…

You took him deeper until the tip kissed your throat, and you started to really get into the rhythm of it as your hand stroked what was left in time with the bobbing of your head.

Just when you thought you'd found the pattern and pace that would take you to the end of this, you were interrupted. He smiled a little, and a hand grabbed your shoulder suddenly and tightly; you froze. "Slow, baby, slow," he reminded you. "There's no rush, okay?"

You nodded a bit, still holding him in your mouth, and resumed— much more careful with your speed this time.

"Better," he praised, letting go of your shoulder and getting comfortable on the sofa again.

You kept the same motions, but tried not to get too lost in it— letting your tongue lick and taste, trying to really treat him so you wouldn't get corrected again.

It was a struggle to get much deeper, not just for your throat but for your lips and jaw forced wide open. Still, you worked to warm yourself up, taking your time as he'd encouraged you to.

For a while, he didn't react much, though he did watch you very closely. The first thing he did to show he was really here was brush some hair away from your face, tilting your face back slightly in the process.

"Look up at me," he whispered, "there you go… pretty eyes…"

It made your chest warm and your pussy tingle for just a second; his stare was intense, you struggled to keep eye contact with him looking at you like that.

He held your head and started to move his hips a bit, gently sliding his cock in and out of your mouth— just an inch at first, and he held you still while he did what he wanted with you. "Pretty lips," he continued, running his thumb over them, tracing the shape your mouth was forced into by his cock. "Use that tongue, baby, I told you to make it good for me."

Humming in agreement-meets-apology, you ran your tongue firmly along the underside of his cock as he moved in your mouth.

That went on for a while until your jaw was fucking killing you and you had to take a break; even with his hands on your hair he let you pull yourself off, though the look on his face did show some confusion and disappointment.

That all changed when he realized what you were doing. He smiled at you— a dark, yet amused, grin— as you sunk deeper between his legs to lick his balls. They were heavy in your mouth, and a little salty with his sweat; the mix of dark and grey hairs rubbed roughly on your tongue. "That's cute," he informed you, running his fingers over your cheek for a moment. You weren't sure if that was the word you would use for this, but you didn't disagree because your mouth was full.

You switched to the other one, closing your eyes while you really savored it, tracing the shape of them with the tip of your tongue before sucking them carefully into your mouth.

He moaned when you did that, and you opened your eyes. He looked so fucking good like this, eyes shut and head fallen back and his hands tightening into fists at his side. "That's nice, keep going," he encouraged, suddenly grabbing your hair when you sucked even harder on the bulb in your mouth. But he didn't try to stop you, or guide you, he just kept it there and hissed in a breath through his teeth as you continued.

When your jaw had had enough of a break you tried to get right back to it, but he shoved your face back between his legs and groaned.

"Not yet," he snapped, "keep licking my balls— fuck, like that… so dirty, baby…"

When it was time for you to stop that and get back to the main event, he made it pretty clear; he pushed your head back and shoved his cock into your mouth, groaning lowly as he let go and let you get back to it. He seemed to like how eager you were now, not stopping you to slow you down like before.

You twisted your hand around him, because everything was plenty slippery enough to do that, as you bobbed your head; obscene slurping noises filled the room and you felt like a proper whore now, spoiling him with the absolute best head you had to offer, using your mouth to pleasure him until you couldn't remember any other purpose for it.

After a few minutes of that, he yanked you off of his cock by your hair, making you gasp and blink up at him. "Is it good, daddy?" you asked with a smile.

He slapped you quickly on the cheek, and you yelped a bit as your face spun to the side. But you moaned, too. "You like that?" he realized.

"Yeah," you sighed, "unless you don't want me to."

He laughed breathlessly. "No, it's hot— you're such a whore, baby, keep sucking…"

He guided you back, pushing his cock onto your tongue with just his thumb until you could wrap your lips around him again and continue your work.

"Fuck yeah," he sighed, head falling back again.

With each bob of your head, you took him a little deeper— deeper, deeper, until the tip breached your throat and he moaned loudly as you gagged.

"Yeah, choke on it," he encouraged, "show me what you can do— fuck, baby…"

Deeper, deeper, until his whole head was past the back of your throat and you fought the urge to swallow, knowing you'd have to start all over.

"Shit, that's good," he mumbled. "Really fucking good…"

You took him deeper still, until all of a sudden your lips were at his base and his dick was further than you ever thought possible.

"Oh fuck," he moaned, stroking your hair, "you— fuck, baby, that throat… you've got a fucking talent, kid."

You did not expect to get wet from him calling you that… maybe it's just because you never thought he'd say it in a time like this. But it made your thighs clench together and your hips shift.

"No wonder this is what you wanted to do, huh? Wanted to show me your little party trick, take my cock down your fuckin' throat?" he snarled. "Bet you do this all the fucking time, a blowjob for a fix or more rations or something else you want…"

You shook your head, and he laughed a bit.

"No? You're a good girl?"

You nodded, moaning around him.

"Then what are you doing blowing me for pills, huh? Is that what good girls do?"

You shook your head, but he pulled you off by your hair again.

"Say it," he ordered. "Is that what good girls do, suck cock for drugs?"

"No," you answered.

"No sir," he corrected.

"No, sir," you repeated, heat pooling between your legs until you worried you'd drip on his floor.

"Keep sucking, slut," he ordered, putting you back in your place literally and figuratively. "Show me what a bad girl you are— yeah, fuck, show me how you use that whore mouth, fuck—"

You struggled to get back into your pace when he was holding your head, moving you the way he wanted. Unlike before, he was speeding you up, faster and faster until he was basically just fucking your mouth. You did your best to use your hand, but eventually just gave up and kept your throat open, letting him use you however he liked.

"Gonna come in that pretty mouth," he promised, biting his lip for a moment. "Fuck, gonna fill that little mouth— don't swallow it 'til I say so."

You tried to nod, but your movements were controlled by him now; you felt his cock flex and pulse, and you shut your eyes in anticipation of it.

"No, fuck, keep them open," he pleaded, "look up at me while I come— yes, fuck, fuck!"

As he came, you sighed through your nose with relief. You were already thinking about getting that baggy of pills, about how deliciously high you were gonna be tonight, all because you did this. It took longer than you expected, but it was relatively painless— except for your jaw, and your throat, and your cheek, and your knees…

"Show me," he ordered, and you opened your mouth to carefully pool his spend on your tongue. "Mm," he hummed proudly when you displayed it all for him, holding your chin so he could turn your face either way and get a good look at what he'd done to you.

It was humiliating, sort of, and yet you felt proud of yourself when he looked at you like that.

"Good, baby, you can swallow now," he offered, and you did so quickly— but it didn't quite get the taste off your tongue.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you were about to try to stand up, maybe thank him for letting you do this instead of paying for the pills, but you realized this wasn't over yet just by the way he was looking at you.

"Come up here," he encouraged, patting his thigh and smiling down at you. "Let's see what else you can do."

With shaky knees, you stood up and took your pants off from around your ankles, climbing up to straddle his lap. "Are we really gonna—?"

He interrupted you by grabbing your hips and already starting to give commands. "Over here, baby, like this— there you go…"

He had you right where he needed you in order to guide his cock up to your hole and slide you down onto him. From the second his tip breached your opening, you gasped.

"Tight fuckin' pussy," he grunted, his top lip curling in a snarl for just a second.

He kept pushing you down until your inner thighs were pressed to his jeans, and he watched you shiver as his cock stirred places deep inside you— too deep, you'd thought before, for a cock to reach.

"Go ahead," he instructed, "ride."

You lifted yourself up and down, whimpering as his thick cock stretched you; it was taking you longer than you expected to adjust to it, but you almost didn't want to…

"Too big?" he wondered with a smug smirk.

"I-I can take it," you said, not sounding especially confident.

"You do this a lot?" he interrogated. "Ride big cocks?"

"No," you promised, "I don't— fuck…"

He laughed a little, and moved you so you had to pick up your pace a bit. You had to hold onto the couch to keep your balance as a wavering moan jumped from your lips. "Feels good, baby? Feels nice and thick, givin' that pussy a stretch?" he taunted.

"Yeah," you panted, "feels good."

"Who feels good?"

"You— Joel, it's you, you feel so good, you feel so fucking good," you babbled pathetically, moving faster again. He moved your hands from the back of the couch to his shoulders, before putting his grip back on your hips.

"Keep riding, baby," he instructed, "keep riding my cock, yeah, like that…"

Your head fell back and a low groan slid from your throat. "Joel," you moaned, "fuck, so deep…"

"You know I had to use this whole pussy, baby, every inch," he grinned. "Of course I'm deep— it's all mine, isn't it? I can go as deep as I want."

"Yeah," you breathed, nodding.

"I can go as hard as I want," he continued.

"Yes!"

"I can go as slow as I want," he added, laughing when you whined at the way he forced your pace to slow down again. "What's the rush, baby? Why are you always trying to get it over with? I know you fucking like it."

He held your face for just a second before he slapped it— then he did it again, again… just when you thought he'd never stop slapping you, he did, only to move his hand down to wrap around your neck. The way you gasped in anticipation, your walls restricting around him excitedly, gave you away completely.

"Shit, you like that too?" he grinned, massaging your neck so hard that it already made your head spin. You nodded.

He tightened his grip until your gasp was cut short and you were totally at his mercy, static filling your brain.

"That's it— fuck, you get really tight when I choke you," he noticed when he let go, and you coughed a little but moaned impatiently. "You want more? Shit… fucking slut."

He choked you again, your hips struggling to keep up the pace when all the air was gone; but that didn't seem to bother him much, if anything he liked seeing you struggle.

Still, he kept one hand on your hips to guide you, occasionally exploring with it so he could rub your thigh or play with your tits. It made you more aware that he'd never even taken his boots off while you were fully nude, grinding in his lap while he just sat back and watched you. You felt so inferior; why did it feel so good?

"Joel," you gasped when his roaming hand rubbed over your clit briefly. He smirked.

"Here, baby?" he teased, drawing the gentlest circles on your bud. "Want me to play with your little pussy, that's what you need?"

"Yes, fuck, please," you begged, but your words were cut short when the hand on your neck tightened again. He rubbed your clit hard, but you couldn't scream while he choked you, and your whole body felt like it was filled with pressure as he fucked up into you off the couch.

"Fuck, you soak me every damn time I choke you," he noticed; his voice was the only one in the room now with your moans silenced, and yet he sounded so far away past the ringing in your ears.

When he let go, you breathed in a deep gasp and moaned much louder than you meant to.

"Bounce on it, come on," he encouraged roughly, smacking your ass to kick you back into gear; you held on tight to his shoulders and swirled your hips, moaning shamelessly now at the feeling of his cock filling your sensitive pussy.

"Joel," you sobbed, "fuck, I— so good, I wanna— oh god—"

He slapped you one more time to get you back to your senses. "What's that, baby?" he pressed.

"I— I— fuck," you stammered, unable to get any other words out. I'm gonna come if you don't stop. But he didn't need to hear you say it, he already knew.

"You want more?" he grunted, watching your face closely. "You want more, baby? Say it."

Another hard slap to the face seemed to fix the part of your brain that makes words, and you spoke more coherently. "I want more," you whined, "fuck me harder, Joel, I want it!"

He grabbed you by your fucking neck and threw you off of him, onto the couch, with a sneer. As he shoved your head down and yanked your hips up, you arched your back to get yourself in position for him; but instead he smacked your ass hard and your back jolted up the other way.

"Slut," he scolded roughly, giving the other cheek a spank next.

You nodded against the couch. "I am, I am," you admitted with a sigh.

"Fucking dirty slut," he repeated, getting up on his knees to clumsily guide his cock to your hole; and you both groaned when he slipped in. "God," he choked, fucking you fast and deep right away, "so fuckin' tight— no baby, no no—"

He shoved your lower back down again when it tried to arch up, a natural response to his cock hitting the deepest parts of you. You yelped each time, a sharp pang in your gut with every thrust, but he fucked you as hard and deep as he wanted regardless.

"S'better— keep it like this, show me that ass," he ordered roughly as his gaze went back and forth from your twisted face of pain to his cock slamming into your cunt. "Good girl."

Even when it was getting battered to all fuck, your pussy managed to give him a nice squeeze when he said that.

"Real cute ass, too," he added, and you jumped a bit when his thumb brushed over your other hole. "Should I fuck it?"

"Joel," you gasped, not answering his question.

"Do you want me to?"

After hesitating, you shook your head.

"No?" he pressed.

"No," you admitted in a pout.

"Ask me not to," he ordered.

"Don't… don't fuck my ass, Joel, please…" you obliged, not sure if he was taunting you before he did it anyways or what. You both knew that you were in no position to stop him.

"What's that? You don't want it?"

"No, Joel, please! Not there!" you pleaded again, a little more emphatically.

"So I can't?"

You hesitated again. "You can… I just don't want you to," you relented, and he laughed.

"Don't worry, baby, I'm not gonna," he promised. "Pussy's too good. You're just cute when you're scared."

You couldn't say if that was true, but one thing you did discover was that you came faster when you were scared; it was already reaching the point of no return, that feeling deep inside. It was building faster than you could handle it, like he was forcing the pleasure to overtake your body— like your body obeyed him before you now. "God, fuck, fuck—" you choked out weakly, starting to shake all over.

"Close?" he noticed, and you nodded. "Not 'til I say so."

"Fuck, Joel, c'mon," you whined, getting another spank for your insolence.

"Not 'til I fuckin' say so," he insisted, speaking through his teeth as he kept a bruising grip on your hips. "Better not fuckin' come until I say, got it? Or you're not getting your pills."

"Okay, okay," you panted, "not gonna come unless you let me… I'll come when you say, just please…"

He chuckled a little, making you whimper in the back of your throat when he angled his hips to push his cock as absolutely deep as you could go; you'd never gotten a stomach ache from sex before, but he was churning everything inside you and making your whole body his plaything. Was that why he was going to make you wait to come? To make sure you knew how easily he owned you?

'Cause then it wasn't really necessary; you already knew, it was obvious.

"Good girl," he praised again, and you shivered all over; he fucked you harder, keeping up a ruthless pace, and you knew he was close.

At least, you hoped he was close, 'cause you weren't sure how much more of this you could take.

"Whose is this, baby?" he asked in a rough voice.

"Yours, yours," you promised with a whimper, "s'all yours, daddy, everything— s'all for you."

"Damn right," he grunted in agreement. "You're mine, baby— my whore, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah," you agreed fervently, "fuck I'm gonna come, Joel, please… please let me—"

"Come, whore."

He groaned as it hit you— he must have felt it— and you made a sound you were pretty sure you'd never made before as your fingers clung tightly to the cushion under you.

His pace faltered and you were so lost in your ecstasy that you didn't even question it… until he slowed down to a near stop, grunting weakly with every stuttered thrust into you.

"Oh god," he moaned, "that was good."

When you realized, it was far too late. "Shit, fuck!" you spat. "You came inside?!"

"You said 'whatever I wanted'," he recalled, not seeming to feel very guilty for what he'd done.

"I said I wanted to blow you," you remembered, starting to sober up very quickly, "and you fucked me— and you fucking came inside, asshole, what the fuck am I gonna do if—"

His grip tightened on your neck again, and you stopped. "Quit fucking whining or I'll give you another load," he warned, letting go of your neck a second later and finally pulling out.

You swallowed, awkwardly laying your sore hips down on the couch. "You could… really do that? You already came twice."

"I lied— it has been that long," he admitted. "And with a tight pussy like this to fuck?"

He looked over at you, grabbing your thigh and lifting it so he could see his come leaking from your abused hole.

"Yeah, I could go again," he assured you, patting your ass gently after he let it drop back down. "You'd have to suck me for a while though, get me hard again…"

You sat up, slowly, and found more soreness in your muscles than you expected. "How many pills would I get? If I did that?"

He looked at you and smirked. "Whatever you want, baby," he promised, and you absent-mindedly licked your lips. He laughed as you leaned forward, getting on your knees beside him so you could put your head down in his lap. "Really? You were just bitching at me, figured you'd wanna leave and go shower so you could wash all that come out, try not to get knocked up."

You lifted his softening cock up to your lips, suckling at the tip and humming at the taste of yourself on his skin.

"But you wanna blow me again, huh?" he continued, voice raspier as he pet the back of your head. "Wanna get me hard so I can fuck that come back into you?"

You didn't respond to his question, just started to find your rhythm again until you heard him moan lowly as you sucked.

"Damn, baby… gonna get all the pills you want…" he mumbled his promises. "Gonna be my little whore, right? Gonna take care of daddy?"

Shutting your eyes tight, you hummed around him; this was far from over— this was never gonna be over. This was the new normal. At least you could keep your rations… hopefully.

"Yeah, that's what I thought…"

[semperama]

AHHHHHH will you write me buddie for 56 "it brings out your eyes"????????? 😃😃😃

“It brings out your eyes.”

----

"Okay, which one?" Buck asks, holding up two different t-shirts, one sky blue and one salmon-y pink.

Eddie sighs and scrubs his hands over his face. He's been perched on the end of Buck's bed for what feels like an hour, watching him fuss with his hair and then rifle through his closet. "I don't know, Buck." He lets his gaze drift down Buck's body for what feels like the millionth time, trying to ignore the way it gets fractionally harder to breathe each time he does it. "The blue, I guess. It brings out your eyes."

Buck snorts. "I'm going to a club. No one'll be able to see what color my eyes are." He tilts his head to the side and grins. "Not that they'll be looking anyway."

"Oh my God." Eddie looks up at the ceiling and says a silent prayer for mercy. "This is why I told you I wouldn't be much help. What do I know about clubs?" Much less gay clubs.

"Come on, man." Buck tosses the salmon shirt down on the bed and starts peeling the blue one off the hanger. "I'm freaking out, okay? Are you sure you can't come with me?"

Can't? Maybe that was a lie. With Chris gone, he has no good excuse to stay home these days. But the last thing he needs is to watch Buck get hit on by random strangers--especially not if alcohol is going to be involved. He wouldn't even have come over to help Buck get ready if he hadn't begged him. It'll be the first time I've gone out since me and Tommy broke up, Eddie. I could really use a pep talk.

"I don't even understand why you have to go," Eddie says. He watches Buck pull on the shirt, tries not to linger too long on how it stretches around his biceps, over his chest. "Is this really a good way to meet guys? At your age?"

Buck gasps with exaggerated affront. "At my age?"

Eddie raises an eyebrow at him. "Last time we went out with Hen and Karen you puked in my front lawn and then complained about your hangover for two days."

"I did a bad job pacing myself that night," Buck says, his mouth twisted into what could almost be a pout. "Karen holds her alcohol better than I do. And anyway, they're older than us, so if they can go out--"

"They go out like twice a year. Together. As a couple. Not to meet people."

Buck's expression darkens. "Yeah, well. I'm not part of a couple, so." Okay. So Eddie fucked up with that one. He sighs, but before he can apologize, Buck spreads his arms out and swivels his torso a little. "Just...how do I look?"

He looks good enough to fucking eat, of course. The shirt hugs him in all the right places. His jeans make his ass look great. He must have found some new product for his hair, because his curls are perfect and soft-looking, begging to be touched. Eddie wants to drag him in by the belt loops and beg him to stay.

"You look great, Buck," he says quietly. Because Buck asked him for a pep talk, and so far he's failed the assignment. The least he can do is try to turn it around. The least he can do is be a good friend, not a selfish, jealous asshole. "Seriously, you're going to have guys falling at your feet."

The smile that creeps its way across Buck's face make it all worth it. He ducks his head, shrugs his shoulders up, and Eddie is stabbed by a longing so intense he's halfway to his feet before he realizes what he's doing and stops himself.

"I'll let you get going then," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets do he doesn't give in to the temptation to touch. "Let me know how it goes?"

"Yeah," Buck says. His gaze is searching Eddie's face. For what, Eddie doesn't know. "Yeah, of course."

Eddie makes it to the door, breath painful and ragged in his chest, before he hears Buck's feet pounding down the stairs behind him. He turns to look, to ask if there was something else, but he barely opens his mouth before Buck is there, one hand on Eddie's neck, the other wrapping around his waist, pulling him in so close it knocks the air out of his lungs.

Then, Buck is kissing him. Desperate press of lips, tongue licking into Eddie's shocked mouth. It's an electric shock, white heat spreading through him, painfully good.

But then as soon as it started, it's over, and Buck is staring at him, wide-eyed. Eddie wants to dive into that blue gaze and drown there.

"I'm sorry," Buck says. "I just--I had to try. I had to know, before I--"

"Buck." His fingers are curled in the back of Buck's shirt, and he curls them tighter, presses Buck closer. "Don't go," he says. "Stay here. With me."

"Okay," Buck says breathlessly. He looks like he has no idea what's happening, and Eddie knows the feeling, but they can talk later, figure it all out later.

"Good," Eddie says, and pushes his fingers into Buck's hair, pulls their mouths together again.

[jenniferjareauwife]

hi hi i love ur writing sm😇do you think we could get an imagine where jj and r have an established relationship, and somebody (an officer wherever they are for the case or smth) is flirting with r but she’s oblivious, and jj gets a little anxious. then r has to reassure jj, and maybe you could add just a smidge of angst before that and have jj ignore r and r doesn’t realise why until jj brings it up. also if you’re comfortable w it you could add some smut at the end, preferably w some body worship (jj receiving) thank you sm🙏🏻🙏🏻

He Was Flirting?

pairing: jennifer jareau x reader

category: slight angst, smut

warnings: smut, scissoring r & jj, body worship jj, switch jj & r

word count: 988

summary: you're on a case and an officer is flirting with you, your girlfriend notices but you don't when leads to the silent treatment and some sexy time 😏

JJ, Officer Hicks and I walked through Boston's Back Bay, observing the nearest crime scene. The victims all had y/h/c hair and y/e/c eyes, same height and my age exactly. It kind of freaked me out a little bit but I knew I wasn't in trouble. No one would mess with an FBI Agent and anyone who knew Ms. Jennifer Jareau would not want to mess with her girlfriend.

"Pretty girls like you better stay safe around here." Officer Hicks said, both hands on his waist as he looked at me with a small smile. I just gave him a small nod, feeling a bit creeped out about the crime scene.

We got back to the station 20 minutes later and I went to the break room for a coffee, hoping to spend some time with JJ after this tiring day. I walked up to her to go talk to her but as soon as I opened my mouth she pushed past me and walked away. Oh. That sting a bit. I turned around to follow her but was stopped by Hicks when he walked into the break room. "Hey hon." He said with his lopsided smile.

"Hi." I looked over his shoulder at JJ who looked completely pissed off. "Hey do you um-"

"You should smile more. It looks good on you." I nodded. I didn't really smile a lot and it was something my friends always told me to do so I took it lightheartedly.

"Thanks." I froze as JJ and I made eye contact. She looked like she was seething with anger. I turned to Hicks and gave him a smile, trying not to to look anxious.

"Sorry to interrupt. Agent Y/l/n and I have to get going." She grabbed my hand with an iron grip. "Come on babe let's go." She kissed me passionately on the lips, making Hicks's jaw drop. Once she pulled away I was left speechless, feeling a familiar heat burn in my lower belly.

"Yeah...yeah let's go." I agreed, letting her drag me out of the station.

Once we got back to the hotel room she was all over me. Her hands were on my ass and her lips were attacking my neck, leaving hickeys and marks everywhere she could reach. "Jayje...JJ." I pushed her away slightly, wanting to see her face. She looked down at me with lustful eyes while gnawing on her bottom lip. "I wanna see you."

"You've gotta earn it after flirting with Hicks sweetheart." She pushed me down onto the bed, making me whine.

"What...what? I wasn't flirting...was that flirting?" I was panicking right now, was she mad at me?

"That was most definitely flirting." Her eyes had a hard look to them again. "Don't try to get yourself out of this."

"I'm not trying to get out of anything just please...please." I tugged at the collar of her shirt, wanting to kiss her all over. "JJ please." I pulled her down on top of me and pulled off her shirt quickly so she couldn't protest. My eyes widened once I saw the swells of her breasts. She didn't protest when I unclasped her bra so I took that as a sign to flip her over, kissing ever inch of her skin that I could reach.

I cupped her breasts in my hands and moaned against her skin as I started to rock against hers, our clits bumping against each other. "JJ...JJ fuck you're so pretty." I couldn't get enough of her, just wanting her to know how pretty she was. I looked up at her though my lustful eyes and saw her blush. "I love you so much. You're so pretty- fuck." My eyes rolled to the back of my head as my hips bucked forward.

"You look so hot on top of me like this." She said with a soft laugh, reminding me of her dominance over me. I kept grinding against her and leaving kisses all over her body. She deserved it, she was so beautiful.

She gripped my waist in a bruising grip so I kept my pace. I could tell she was reaching her high, the way her muscles twitched under my lips. I could get off on her cumming, she just looked so fucking hot while doing it and I never hesitated to tell her that. "Fuck...fuck JJ I'm gonna cum."

"Me too baby." She held me close to her as I left sloppy kisses over her breasts. I kept my body as close to hers as possible, just wanting her to feel how much I loved her. "Y/n...y/n I'm coming!" I lifted my head up so I could kiss her as she rode out her orgasm. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I climaxed, kissing all over her face and neck, not caring where I kissed just caring that I was kissing her.

"I love you I love you I love you." I chanted, pulling away once I got too sensitive. I left sloppy kisses along her jaw before dropping my head to her shoulder.

"You ok?" She panted, dragging her fingertips over my back. I gave her a small nod and snuggled up close to her.

"I'm sorry for flirting with him...I didn't know." I whispered, tracing shapes on her belly. I felt her inhale and exhale sharply, trying to get the air back in her lungs. "I really love you...and I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize...I'm sorry for getting jealous. You weren't even flirting, it was just him."

"I didn't like the silent treatment." I told her quietly. I felt her chest cave in a bit.

"I'm sorry honey. I won't do it again, ok? I really should've communicated with you better. I'm really sorry."

"It's ok." I kissed her stomach. "I love you so much." I mumbled against her skin thinking maybe she would absorb it. It was silly but I wanted her to know how loved she was.

"I love you more baby."

[heartcereql]

a/n: i'm a slut for this man.

war!tommy shelby x nurse!reader

chattering in the background. the faint smell of alcohol. but not that alcohol. not rum, not scotch. clean alcohol. hospital alcohol. more voices. cloth against his forehead. it was cold. ice cold. and then he remembered. the fire. the wound.

tommy's eyes shot open, upper body lifting slightly from the sudden action, though it was mere seconds before he fell again on his back, his body tired and hurt, unable to support him.

and then he saw you. his eyes must have been blurry from the time they spent closed because he could have sworn there was a glazy halo surrounding your figure, all dresses in white, hair pulled back from your features, allowing him to gaze upon your features. you looked like an angel.

before he could even process the woman before him, said woman was approaching where he laid.

"you're awake! how are you feeling?" you spoke in a sweet tone, a smile softening your face.

he just gaped at you for a moment. you were even more beautiful up close. how was he feeling. all the better now that you were here, certainly, but even in his shocked and dumbfounded state he could distinguish that he couldn't tell you that. he tried to check if his body hurt. he felt a bit numb, probably he was on some sedatives; besides a light headache, he didn't feel much.

even though all these had happened in a few seconds to him, you were getting worried at his lack of response. maybe he was worse than you thought.

"sir?" you called his attention, a frown clouding your expression.

this seemed to bring him back to earth.

"yes, i'm alright, yeah" he nodded, giving you a smile of his own.

adorable. sharp cheekbones, the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen, he was certainly delightful to look at. and he seemed like a sweetheart.

"that's great. let me check this..." you put your hand over his forehead to check his temperature. you were short on thermometers so you had to do it the old fashioned way for now.

his world stopped. breath caught in his throat, eyes widening in the tiniest bit- so that you couldn't notice, heart picking up its rate. your touch was feather-like, but lasted enough for him to feel the softness and warmth of your skin; the trace of your fingers still lingering on him when you pulled your hand again.

"not bad; the fever's going down... i'm going to change the bandages now, okay?" you said. you couldn't explain it, but you couldn't cease to smile.

he mumbled in agreement as your hands found his wounded arm, untying the now stained cloth. as you unwrapped his pained arm, your hands steadied on his bicep, making goosebumps arise on his skin.

once the wound was uncovered and fresh air hit the injury, tommy winced. you gave him an apologetical smile before turning to find a wet towel to clean the dried blood. his eyes never left your figure, studying your every move. when you returned and started washing the blood off, he forced himself to look away. he didn't want to creep you out.

but, on the other hand, nurses came and went easily; what if he never saw you again? so, on second thought, tommy's eyes returned to you, savouring every second.

as you finished, you looked at him, only to meet those enchanting icy orbs. you both smiled again, soft laughs, looking away shyly to hide your embarrasment.

you started to bandage his arm again. he wanted to ask you about yourself, find out about you. though knowing he was the reason you kept smiling made him feel all the better.

"um, so, you've been a nurse for long?" he asked, voice unsure, testing the waters.

he immediatly regretted it: you looked his age, 'been a nurse for long'? please.

but you didn't seem to share his thoughts, as your eyes glimmered a bit before answering.

"not really, no, but my mother and grandmother were nurses for the better part of their lives, so i know my way around" you answered, eyes suddenly too timid to meet his.

as the both of you engaged on a pure and warm conversation, bandages finished long ago, you lost track of time. your only focus was on him.

“y/n!” you were pulled out of the conversation as someone called for you.

“shit, uh, that’s me. i- i have to go.. but it was lovely to talk to you!, um…” you trailed off as you still hadn’t caught his name.

“tommy. tommy shelby” he replied with a smile.

“well, tommy shelby. you get better. and when you do, you look for y/n y/l/n” you offered him one last grin before sprinting off to where the voice came from.

y/n. oh he would definitely look for you. granted.

© heartcereql, 2023 || thank you for reading ! 𓆩 ♱ 𓆪

[syoddeye]

mistaken identity

Cleaned up an old draft. Shy/introverted gn!reader goes on a blind date. ~2k words. CW: alcohol, a bad pick-up line

"Are you–?"

"Yes! And you must be–?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"So…" 

Fantastic, five seconds in, and you're flummoxed. Hard not to be with a guy like John in front of you. His eyes are mirthful, matching his smirk and posture, leaning on the bar beside your seat like he's known you forever. Like he owns the place. Confident with the charm factor set to eleven.

A brief, perfunctory glance gleans the obvious: He's fit. Roughly your age. Solid build, a face with a little facial hair, and arms accentuated by rolled sleeves. Your eyes don't dare venture southward for fear of making your checking him out conspicuous.

When your friend insisted on setting you up, you had doubts. The last two dates she orchestrated went bust. Each man was too loud or too arrogant. It didn't help she said the latest contestant was a handsome sweet talker. A banterer looking for a bit of fun due to his stressful line of work. The fact he was military gave you pause, clearly not enough since you agreed.

As usual, your friend wore down your defenses and got her way, but you swore this was her last chance. She gave you simple instructions: Sit at the bar, wear red, and he'll find you.

"I see I've kept you waitin'," He gestures to the empty tumbler.

You fiddle with the cocktail straw. "No, I just needed something to relax."

A beat slips past, and you fixate on the cardboard coaster beneath your glass. God, you're out of practice. Why did you think this was a good idea? You're a conversation killer. A lifelong introvert, historically too shy to properly date. If he's as charismatic as described, you're done for.

"Nervous?" 

Your gaze collides with his - glinting in the low light. "Yes. Have you seen yourself?"

That gets a chuckle out of him, a honeyed sound that eases the tension in your jaw and shoulders. 

He quiets, but the grin never slips. His eyes move across your face, reading your features with a laser focus you're accustomed to. "Could say the same thing to you," He murmurs before turning to greet the barkeep.

The whispered remark leaves you mildly surprised. While you miss what he orders, your empty glass vanishes with the promise of a fresh drink on the way.

"Can I?"

"Please."

He takes the empty seat, and repositions slightly to remain angled toward you. "I'm nervous, too."

Another surprise.

"You hide it better than me. Don't suppose that's uh, part of your job?" You ask, hoping his work is not entirely off-limits.

He smirks and shrugs. "S'pose it is. What I do's boring, though. Our friend said you're…an architect?"

You grin and it's your turn to laugh. Not a good listener, noted. "No, I'm a librarian."

His brow lifts, then his gaze narrows, a sheen to his eye that worries you. You've seen this look before from many men who hear 'librarian' and mentally catapult themselves into many ridiculous fantasies. You love the job, hate the creeps and the stereotypes.

"A librarian."

"You heard correctly. And no, I can't give you a reading rec, I'm, uh, off duty." 

"Shame, but understandable. Bet you've heard quite a few lines."

You glance away to thank the bartender and take the cocktail, fingers finding the new straw and giving it a quarter stir. "The good, the bad, and the ugly, yes."

"Cheers, thanks," He nods at the bartender and returns his focus, an impish smirk disappearing behind the glass. "What's the ugliest?"

A sip goes down easy, your throat already pleasantly burned by the first. It stirs your courage, giving it the giddy-up it needs. "You really want to know? It's awful."

He leans close, ducking his head and lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. Usually, it'd turn you off, a date imposing on your space this quick, but you can't tear your eyes away. Something magnetic about him.

His head dips, and his free hand beckons rapidly, "Now you're teasing. Let's hear it."

You fight the grin his whisper elicits. You make a show of it, rolling your eyes and taking a swig before you humor him and lean closer. Might as well go for it. "'I bet you can make a paperback hard.'"

He winces. "That is…Yeah, that's ugly. Someone said that to you?"

"It's terrible, right?"

"I could do worse, guarantee."

"Game on, give it your best shot."

The exchange of the most cringeworthy to filthy to hilarious pick-up lines doesn't end even after he signals the barkeep for another round. The night finally feels how you hoped it would be – spirited, lively, and honestly, you feel like a different person in a good way. After breaking the ice, he's one of the easiest people you've ever spoken to. A feat in and of itself, given your poor track record.

When he excuses himself to the lavatory, you text your friend, confirming he found you and things are going well. You set it to silent and slip it away, confident you won't need rescue tonight.

He returns, setting a hand at the top of your shoulders, letting it trail to the small of your back as he sits. You startle at the sensation. A shiver you can't decide if you like or not runs down your back. His hand instantly lifts, raising in surrender, and the smile that's looked assured all evening turns apprehensive.

"Did I misread this? Shit, apologies."

You surprise yourself. "No, no, it's fine. I just haven't…" Haven't been touched like that in ages, you privately admit. It's foolish, your reaction. "I didn't expect it."

"Yeah? How's that?"

"I don't–I don't get this kind of attention often. I don't date. I don't date a lot, that is, but it's cool if you do!" You swiftly take a drink to stop yourself. It's warm here. Was it always this warm?

A chuckle draws you back to him. "Well, don't take this the wrong way, I think you should date more," You must look at him as if he's grown a second head as he continues, "You're a riot, and you're stunning. Clever, too. Could go on, but you seem anxious, and I'd rather make you laugh and more comfortable."

Your chest tightens at the string of compliments. You could crush your glass, you think, with how you're gripping it.

"Think you should date me, specifically. Night's not over, and I want to do this again."

Oh god, you're smitten.

You open your mouth, unsure of what to say, when a lilting voice calls out over the din of the bar.

"Gaz? What're ye doin here? Said ye hated this place!"

A grinning man with a mohawk cuts through the bar. His eyes move from your date and land on you, trailing up and down. At first, it looks like he's unashamedly checking you out, but then his expression falls a fraction.

"Wait. Are ye my date? Thought ye'd be long gone by now given how late I am."

A record scratches in your head. Pause. Who's 'Gaz'? Who's this guy?

Your date turns completely toward the newcomer, mouth hanging open a moment. "Soap? I thought–No, your date's at Foxhole. You told me this morning."

"That's no' right. I've got it in m'phone right here."

While this 'Soap' thrusts a phone into your date's face, your blood runs cold. A particular bit of the conversation with your friend loops through your head.

"You're seriously not even going to give me a full name? A description beyond 'good-looking'?"

"Do you trust me or not? Look. He knows you'll be in red. That's all you need."

You pull out your phone, and your eyebrows rush to meet your hairline. Two missed calls and five messages from the last ten minutes. You swipe through and confirm: She texted to tell you that your date, the real date, was running an hour late due to work. This time, your jaw drops. You glance up to meet his eye, and whatever buzz you felt before dissolves.

"I thought–you're not John?"

"No, I'm Kyle, I assumed–"

"We spoke for forty five minutes and never asked for each other's names?!" The realization bubbles out with a peal of nervous laughter, and you clap a hand over your mouth. Was that as bad as it sounded? Or good, if you were so at ease?

A taut silence hangs between you two for a good five seconds, before you both burst into laughter.

The Scot clears his throat. "Right. Well, I'm no' so thick as tae see what's happenin' here. I'll go stir up trouble elsewhere."

"You sure?" You ask, suddenly feeling guilty. Even if this would not have happened if he'd been on time, the look on his face makes you frown.

He shakes his head, a hand over his heart. "Yer sweet, bonnie, but a man must know when to bow out."

"Thanks, mate," Kyle replies, eyes narrowed in suspicion yet paired with a smile. He claps John on the shoulder.

"Ye owe me, for stealin' such a looker."

Your lip curls, and you watch his mohawked head disappear toward the door. Alone again, you turn to your date. "You should probably check on your actual date."

"On it," He replies with another chuckle, his phone screen lighting up his face. He clicks his tongue, but he looks pleased. "It's weird, but I think they blocked me. Says 'number not found'."

"Their loss," You say quicker than you'd like, and your face heats. A strange turn of events, to be sure, yet it feels serendipitous. "I can't believe this. Were you set up?"

"Yeah, friend of mine. Blind date. Said to look for the person in red and clearly I assumed it was you. Let's start again. I'm Kyle." He offers a hand. It feels silly now, given the near hour of conversation you've shared.

You oblige him, take his hand, and give him yours. "Nice to meet you. For the second time."

Kyle's smile is warm when he repeats your name. He nods at your drinks on the bar. "Buy you another?"

"Please."

Despite the odd intermission, the rest of the evening runs smoothly. He walks you back to yours, the pace slow and meandering. You're not quite ready to invite him in, but you hope there's a next time.

"Can I be honest with you?" You chance, a block away from your place.

"'Course. Let's have it."

"You aren't the kind of man I usually pursue," You laugh when he feigns indignation. 

"Really?"

"Really. You're a good looking guy. Normally I need a few shots in me to consider talking to you. Out of my league, that's for sure."

Kyle chuckles, then gently knocks your elbow. "Once again, I could say the same thing to you."

"Oh, stop that." You mutter sheepishly before a hand hooks itself around your wrist. You half-turn to see Kyle wearing an earnest expression, and his thumb rubs a small circle beneath your palm.

"I'm serious. I know I come off as confident but truth is, I'm shit with follow through. I'd've never approached you if it wasn't for the set up. Even if it was, uh, someone else's blind date," His other hand raises as if showing he means no harm, then reaches to tug you forward by your jacket, drawing you close. "I meant what I said earlier. I want to do this again sometime. If you'll have me."

You swallow hard, throat suddenly tight. You look for any sign, any microexpression suggesting this is a dream or, worse, a joke, but find only honesty. "Yeah, okay. A second date sounds nice."

He grins and leans in, giving you plenty of time to pull away, but you meet him. The kiss is sweet, on the more chaste side of the spectrum (for your benefit, you think), and leaves you wanting more. 

At your doorstep, you get another. He waits for you to sort out your keys and get inside, but before you close the door, something that's been nibbling at you forces your head back outside.

"Kyle – who did you say your friend was? The one that set you up?"

~~

🧼: Mission accomplished. World-class performance, done and dusted. You owe me a favor.

Kate smiles smugly at the text and chucks a piece of popcorn into her mouth. Always a good feeling to watch pieces fall into place. Two birds, one stone. Her two problem children: An overly shy bookworm with a nasty habit of shooting themselves in the foot on dates, and a silver-tongued know-it-all who needed a strong push. A pair she knew would go well together if the circumstances were just right.

More messages follow.

KG: Was that other person even real?  KG: And was Soap in on it? KG: Second date's next week, btw.

Y: You sneaky, devious meddler.  Y: He's fucking perfect.

She chuckles, and the body nestled at her side shifts. "What's so funny, babe?"

"Oh, playing matchmaker."

Her wife sighs. "Kate. Not again."

[silentgravesdontexist]

PART III: Dates & Kisses! w/ Usopp, Yamato, and Jinbei

FINALLY, posting this after centuries of delays and side quests. It's somewhat unfair that I enjoyed writing these three the most??? Pretty obvious with the word count. Barely editted— I'm sorry.

CW: None. Fluff, pining, dates, and kisses.

Word Count: 4.2k

Usopp

Carnival

You weren't an idiot. The moment Usopp started bragging about something, you knew it was a lie. Or at least an extreme exaggeration of the truth behind it.

And yet you always listened to him as if they were real. That's why he always loved your company. It wasn't just you nodding along and letting him do as he pleased.

Usopp not so secretly fawned over the way you would ask him questions about his stories, listening to him with rapt attention, that warm and playful smile on your lips, and how you would laugh at his jokes.

Even when you knew he was lying about more serious topics, you wouldn't really say anything but you would have this look in your eyes that said 'I know you're lying but I'm not really gonna judge' and he would always cave in and spill the beans.

There were times that Usopp would go and brag about his experince with women. You thought he was just flat out lying this time, but he actually does have experience. And you felt a little jealous over that.

So, eventually, you actually teased him about it. That if he was so experienced then he should take you on a date and impress you with all that supposed 'lady killer' charisma he has (his words, not yours).

Oh, boy. The man malfunctioned as he just gawked at you. His jaw ajar and eyes slightly widened. It takes a while before he regains himself and start stumbling his own words to plan it out with you.

The two of you were so cute. Exchanging sheepish glances, teasing each other, and planning it all out together.

Did the two of you talk about matching outfits?

No? Well, look at the two of you having coordinated outfits when the two of you meet up just outside the carnival. The two of you laughed over it almost immediately. You tease him for copying you while he goes on with his hidden psychic abilities.

The two of you are too cute.

The carnival was fairly packed by the time you guys went in. Maybe, just a little too crowded if anything. There are quite a few times that one of you lost track of the other because of the crowd.

As much as Usopp just wanted to casually hold your hand and brag about letting him take the lead so you'd never get lost, he felt too flustered.

You were already going on a date with him. Would you consider it as being too forward and be creeped out by him? He didn't want to risk that so he somehow managed to get this durable string. With a shy smile, he started to tie one end around your wrist and the other end around his own.

"This way, you'll be able find your way back to me even if you get lost again." Usopp tried to be confident while point a thumb to himself with a boyish grin on his face.

A chuckle leaves your lips as you look at your wrist with a warm smile. You simply nod along and the both of you wennt back to your merry way through the stalls of games and foods. There was even an area where a performer started blowing fire into the air.

While watching, Usopp tells you the tale of how he went to Hawaii to be trained in blowing fire just like that by a great grandmaster at the age of 7.

"Oh, yeah? Why don''t you show off a few skills then?" You nudge his side with your elbow. A playful smile and that mischievious gling in your eyes. "I'm sure it's do you good to put those skills to practice again." He bristles at your words and turns his head to the side in response. A nervous chuckle on his lips as he starts fumbling for excuses.

"Uhm...I-uh..It's rude to take away a guy's job like that y'know?" His eyes snapping every which way just to not look at you. "A-Ah, there is goes. My 'Don't do dangerous things' illness is back! Let's go somewhere else! I heard they have horses!" And with that, he actually reaches out to grab your hand to tug you away from the performer.

You shake your head with an affectionate smile but follow him nonetheless. Feeling a little brave, you intertwine your fingers with his to hold his hand properly. He's a bit in front of you but you notice the way that his ears are a touch of crimson despite his tanned skin as well as how he squeezes your hand in response.

Oh, he adored showing off around the shooting stalls. Clearing out everything for you that some of the owners questioned his skill since many of the games were rigged. By the end of it, you picked out your favorites and gave away some others to the nearby kids who just stared at the prizes you had with their eyes shining brightly.

However, there was a certain incident that dampened the mood. The two of you entered a circus to enjoy the show. There was a time in the show that a circus master was performing a few tricks. Usopp started to brag about how he was able to do it well. But the circus master was not pleased with that.

A few taunts later, it ended him on the stage and failing to do what he was talking about. Feeling ashamed as he walked back to you-- he couldn't even look you in the eyes the whole time. You weren't really sure what else to say at the time.

He looked so down and ashamed, as if he'd rather be swallowed by the ground than to face you.

The two of you are exiting the tent of the circus. Usupp knew you were concerned over his mood. So, he tried making the mood light by cracking a few jokes but his smile just didn't reach his eyes. It was obvious that the incident still bothered him.

That's when you hear about the bonfire. How there was music and drinks being given around the bonfire. With a bright smile, you hold his hand and nod your head towards the direction of the said bonfire gathering. Unable to really say no to you, he follows along. You got him a drink to help him ease up a bit and guided him near the bonfire.

"C'mon! Didn't you tell me that you were once the champion of a dancing competition in Spain?" You tease him playfully. The fact you even remember the tales he talks abou was enough to coax out a genuine smile on his face.

Usopp musters up some of his gusto back and leads the dance with you. Ofc, it ends with both of you stepping on each other's feet as you sway along the joyous tune of the music. Despite it all, both of your laughters tuned in with the merry atmosphere of the crowd.

You were smiling and laughing at his jokes so much that your cheeks were aching.

At some point, the music changes into a slow and sweet tune. He swallows visibly as he pulls you closer to him until your bodies are pressed against each other. A shiver runs down his spine when he notices how your breath hitched. Your gaze meeting his.

As cliche as it seems, it truly seemed like the world came to a stop. Leaving just the two of you in that intimate moment alone.

The way that the fire lit your face with that warm color has his mind shortcuiting. All he can focus on the way that he just had to memories every detail so that he'd always remember this moment. Have it seared behind his eyelids so that he'd see even with his eyes closed.

Both of you lean closer to each other. Neither utter a word as if scared that it would shatter the tension in the air. Lips are inches away from touching. He couldn't resist it. Not when you breathed out his name with that voice of yours. Usopp leaned in to finally close the distance.

He melts into the kiss. Its a tender kiss that almost seems as if its the first time, pulling you impossibly closer as if willing you to never let the moment end. You didn't want to. However, the lungs have needs for air. So, you reluctantly pull away to press a kiss on his cheek.

You two stay like that for a while. Simply holding each other as you two sway along to the tune of the music. Still feeling awkward with the tension, he occassionally cracks a small joke to get you to laugh. And he adores it that you bless him with it.

Yamato

Mountain Trekking

Yamato had been travelling all over the world. Enjoying the sights and sceneries as he went from one place to another. And you were a local at his current destination.

He got lost somewhere on the marketplace. Sure, he knew a bit of the language but it was complicated and made communication difficulty. Yamato had been asking random people only to feel even more lost by the second.

That's where you come along. Since you were multi-lingual— he treated you as if you were an angel sent from heaven to help him out.

Both of you got along quick. Your banters, jokes, and gentle guidance made his heart flutter in his chest. His crush on you wasn't much of a secret.

After exchanging contacts, you guided him around local areas and even spots that weren't well known to tourists. Deep dwelling caves with silk worms glowing in the ceiling, ceremonies and events tied to your culture, and local delicacies that left him craving even more.

Yamato would find excuses to call you. Saying he got lost again and had no idea where to go just to hear your voice again. If you actually showed up, he'd do his best to treat you in exchange of the effort.

Eventually, he heard of a certain rumor. That if a couple would climb to the peak of the nearby mountain and watch the sunrise together— they'd love each other 'till the end of time.

Ofc, he tried to be discreet in asking you to go there with him. Tried. But the guy was stumbling over his words and had this flustered look on his face.

Who was he kidding? You were a local. Obviously, you'd know about the rumor. But they way you still agreed had him whooping loudly with that face-splitting grin on his face

Yamato acted like an overprotective parent days before the supposed trek.

Hh

He'd tell you to get proper sleep, healthy meals, and keep yourself well hydrated. On the day of the trek, he made sure you had all your items with you. Though it bordered on overbearing, you just chuckled and tease him over it. He's a big guy. Taller than most people that he could easily be used as a landmark at some point.

Oh, how he loved it whenever you would stand on your toes to pinch his cheek. Sometimes, he'd even lower his head whenever you reached out to pat his head. He would preen excitedly while you teased him not make such a fuss over you. Throughout the trek, he'd made sure your comfort and safety were his top priority. Although with that being said, he still wannted you to enjoy the sights without making you feel smothered by his presence. You'd even teach him small things about your town's tradiations and paying respects as you walk through the trail. Whenever he sensed you felt tired, he'd let you take a break. Since Yamato was fairly taller than you, he made sure to slow down his pace so you could keep a comfortable pace with him. Especially as the two of you trekked highed into the mountain.

The altitude sickness slowly affecting you and your pace throughout the trek. He'd sit you down somewhere and kneel before you. Yamato would hold your hands in his and brush his thumbs over the back of your hand. "Hey, it's alright. We can take a break, catch our breath and continue when you feel better." Yamato tugs your hand closer to press a soft kiss against your knuckles. Concern visible in his eyes as he meets your gaze. "If it doesn't go away, we can go down. I want you to have fun on this trek." Just as usual, you'd pat his head and thank him for his concern.

After resting, both of you would continue your trek. There was a riverbank you two had to cross just a little distance— he'd insist that you'd get on his back.

He'd jump over the steps and you'd cling to him while reminding him to be careful. Both you would end up laughing when he did slip but he made sure you weren't even touching the water. However, some of the luggage got soaked— which included your sleeping bag. It was already getting late and the only place to camp at was the peak of the mountain which was so close within reach. So, the two of you decided to just proceed.

Thankfully, it doesn't take long to reach the peak and make camp there. Yamato was already stationed by the campfire to warm up a bit before helping you set the tent. Your sleeping bag was still soaking wet and neither of you had an extra. It was freezing cold. So, the obvious answer was to share a sleeping bag with Yamato.

Both of you were now blushing messes as you tucked in for the night. Was it really surprising to wake up with your back against his chest while his arm was wrapped around your waist?

No. Obviously. His warm breath fanning against your hair, thumb absentmindedly brushing against your side, and he pulls you a bit closer to him when you try to wriggle away.

Despite how badly you wanted to stay there like that with him but the point of the trek was to watch the sunrise together. And checking the time on your watch meant that it was going to happen anytime soon. Surprisingly, he was compliant when you woke him up. Though your heart did skip a bit when he nodded off to a quick nap and rested his head against your shoulder. You practically had to drag him out by the hand to get set up outside the tent.

Given his still sleepy state, he had you sit between his legs while he hugged you from behind all because he noticed you shiver from a breeze that passed by. His chin settled at the top of your head as both of you would watch the sun peaking through the horizon.

It was a beautiful sight that it took your breath away with ease. A bright smile on your lips as you lean back against his frame.

Though, a part of you knew this was only temporary. That itself dampened your mood for a moment. "I'll come back," Yamato mumbles against your hair, as if sensing your mood. It makes a shaky breath leave your lips.

You knew that he wanted to continue travelling and that this should have just been a quick fleeting encounter. But his words made hope bloom in your chest. Yamato brings up his hand to guide your face to face him. His head tilted slightly to look at you. There was a bright smile on him. It looked so bright that it chased away the shadows of doubt that lingered in the back of your mind.

With a shaky breath, you lean closer to him and press a kiss against his lips. It was a chaste kiss that had him chasing after your lips when yo pulled away. "Promise?" You mumble, lips brush against his with every syllable. It sends a shiver down his spine.

"Promise." He echoes with determination as he kisses you. This time, its more affectionate and sensual. You turn your body to kiss him better. He gladly hums in response and deepens the kiss. "I'll come back. Always." Yamato mumbles against your lips before pressing one last kiss, content in holding you and lpressing kisses against your skin whenever temptation struck as the both of you watch over the sunset.

Jinbei

Cherry Blossom Viewing

Jinbei's the classic cute guy-next door. That was your initial impressionof him when he helped you out while you moved in. It was a new town and everyone was a new face to you. And he lent you a hand with a warm and reassuring smile on his face.

He was friendly despite the intimidating look he had on his face. There was something about the way that he would always give you a smile whenever you two bump into each other in the apartment.

There were times that he was the one who would help you out whenever you needed someone fixing up thing at your place. Hell, he even went out of his way to pick you up when it was late into the night and the rain was pouring heavily bc you forgot your umbrella.

As thanks, you'd offer him to come over and make him dinner. He absolutely adored your food. Always eating it with absolute delight and praising your food each time.

It was a bit of a slow burn. There was that warm and relaxing feeling in your chest as you slowly came to appreciate his presence more and more.

The same goes for him. There would be times where he'd go an extra step further in helping you adjust in town, that you felt safe there, and making sure that gorgeous smile on your face would remain on your face.

It was while the two of you were enjoying some snacks after he just repaired the leaking faucet in your sink. You brought up the topic of how you always wanted to live in that town because of the cherry blossoms.

Jimbei takes note of this and invites you to watch the cherry blossoms with him when the season comes around. You teased him if he was asking you on a date. Which immediately made the poor guy a flustered mess.

Saying that if only that was something you wanted and that he wouldn't dare to force you into going with him if you didn't want to. Well, obviously, you told him that you'd absolutely love that. How you were already looking forward to making the snacks you guys would have by then.

Just like that, the sands of the hourglass trickled down, and the seasons changed.

It was the talk of the town by then. Ceremonies and festivities were held to celebrate the cherry blossoms. It had always been a custom in the town. You and Jinbei had already planned everything out so that it would all go smoothly. You were now waiting for him by the agreed meeting place. A picnic basket held in your hands as you watched the clusters of cherry blossom trees in the near distance with awe. There was a fair amount of crowd gathering around the area in order to witness the beauty of it. It doesn't take long before you hear a familiar voice calling out your name. And there he was. Jinbei was making his way towards you with that warm smile on his face that always made your heart flutter in your chest. You return it with a smile of your own. Jinbei's eyes fall on your outfit and his eyes seem to shine a little brighter. You looked breathtaking. By then, he knew that he'd rather just enjoy the view before him than the cherry blossoms (Though, ofc, he'd never actually say that to you out loud. He'll keep it as a little secret.) He takes the basket from you to carry it himself. Not that he didn't think you'd be able to carry it. He was well-aware of your capabilities. He simply wanted to be of service.

And being you, there's no way you didn't tease him a bit for it. Enjoying the usually composed facade on his face falter a bit with a bashful expression. There was always something about the way he responded to your teasing made you want to keep doing it even more. Well, it did occassionally catch you off-guard whenever he chimes back witha teasing remark of his own.

In truth, he did enjoy those playful moments even though it left him feeling quite...flustered. The walk to the cherry blossom trees was filled with easy conversation. It always was. It seemed so calming being in his presence. There was no pretense to worry over. As if he'd accept you as you were no matter what. If anything, he made you feel safe and comfortable in his presence.

That was something you adored most about him. When the two of you spot a nice area, Jinbei helped out with preparing everything. The two of you are situated under a cherry blossom tree with a good view of the river and nearby park.

What a picturesque scene it made. Soft pink of the petals dance gracefully in the wind. The weather was perfect as well. Nothing too cloudly nor sunny. Jinbei always paid rapt attention to whatever you talked about. Be it from the most mundane parts of your days or the amusing tales you had stored in your memory. He accepted each one and kept it close to him. Wondering maybe it would be his own way to become a bit closer to you as well. "This is amazing as always." He muses while taking another bite of the sandwich you made. Most of the food you made for the picnic were his favorites. Making sure you made them just the way he always liked it as. And his compliments never fail to make butterflies erupt in your stomach. "Well, they do say that the best way to a man's heart is through their stomach." You tease with a playful wink at his direction. Oh, boy. Jinbei immediately choked on his food because of that. The flustered expression blatant all over your face. Part of you couldn't help but chuckle at his response while you hand him a drink while patting his back soothingly. It takes a while for him to compose himself as well.

By the end of it, he does try to regain some dignity by clearing his throat and changing the topic to something else. Hours pass by like it was nothing in each other's presence. Laughs and conversations were exchanged. And by then, it was sundown.

The way that the hues of orange and red painted the sky along with the touch of pink cherry blossom petals was something you wanted to engrave in your memory. The gentle breeze caresses your hair and blows wisps of it as though it were playing with the strands.

It was perfect. And all the while, Jinbei couldn't help but stare at you. Gods, he'd never get tired of the sight of you smiling so warmly like that. You looked so peaceful. A cherry blossom petal lands on your hair, and he reaches out to brush it away.

There's that look of adoration on his face that he couldn't hide even if he tried. His touch doesn't go unnoticed by you. You turn your gaze to meets his. And the way he looks at you immediately steals your breath. He looked at you as though nothing held equal value. All the longing and affection he held for you were laid bare at that moment. And by the gods did his heart swell at the your cheeks turned a delightful shade of blush. Jinbei reaches out his hand to brush away a strand of your hair behind your ear. His heart fills fit to burst with the way you lean into his touch.

For a moment, he simply takes in the sight of you like that. Taking a leap of faith, he leans in by fraction. Anticipation builds in his chest as he notices the way your breath hitched. Gaze flickers down to your lips before looking deep into your eyes. You can't help but lean in even closer. Lips inches away from his. The warmth of his breath fans against your skin sends a shiver down your spine. Your eyes flutter close and you lean in. He closes in that final gap to capture your lips with his. The two of you melt into the kiss. Lips moving languidly with each other's. His hand cups your cheek and pulls you closer to him and you gladly let him.

When the kiss ends, there's that lovesick smile on both your faces. A soft chuckle leaves your lips as you lean against him to rest your head against his shoulder. There was something so inexplicably intimate abt it. A comfortable silence falls between the both of you like a warm blanket. Indulging in his presence with the serene and picturesque sight of the cherry blossom trees. It was something your were sure you'd remember for as long as possible.

~~~~~~~

And that's all for the main event, folks! I will post another for other characters but they will be much shorter than this series (might take me another century to post tho...).

Here's my masterlist to check out my other works!

[coolprettyleo]

fit my poems like a perfect rhyme - everything has changed au

wc: 3k

tw: talks of sex. angst. drinking. lmk if more!

gabe perreault x oc

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

rachel summers was a girl everyone around her was drawn too. she was the cool it girl who seemed to be blessed, in just about every aspect of her life; she was.

she was born and raised in california, where her hobbies included surfing and hanging out with friends. in high school she was the popular girl who dated the star quarterback, and of course they won prom queen and king.

she even had her two best friends, that too the average eye; were her minions. together they were the hottest trio in school, it was iconic in a way. sadly, those minions chose to have a mind of their own, and stay on the west coast.

whereas she did not. Rachel. who of course went by the name 'summer', committed to a school on the easy coast; boston college.

she had flowy blonde hair that fell to her shoulders and a heart of gold that made her easy to love by just about anyone who met her. so when she moved into a new city, knowing no one but her beloved cat, she wasn't all too nervous.

"no I dont want to know who he got with tonight mary" rachel rolled her eyes as she face timed one of the minions, who she wanted to call a friend, but wasn't. mary was across the country at college and it happened to be the same college as said quarterback boyfriend, who was now her ex.

mary felt the need to update summer on just about everything he did. of course including the fact he got with a new girl every night.

at least he's finally getting what I couldn't give him.

"i'm not telling you this to be evil summer! I'm telling you this so you don't feel guilty, to go live a life. don't be a nobody, its gross" mary's voice said on the phone seeing as she was in thought. she had a bit of a point.

"I dont feel guilty to go out!"

"then go out!"

rachel thought for a moment, she could go out.

she had a neighbor, who seemed to love going out. that is, if she had been observing right, her neighbor would go alone? maybe she wouldn't mind a companion? they seemed to be around the same age and she seemed cool.

"anyways, I gotta go. love you babe" mary said before kissing the camera and hanging up, not even waiting for summer to mutter a goodbye.

it's like mary only called her, to rub in how much fun college had been going for her. summer on the other hand, was going through a nasty breakup for the beginning of it.

I do need to enjoy it

rachel was left nervously juggling the idea of whether or not she should ask her neighbor.

what do I even say

"wanna join me for drinks?" summer practiced pacing in her living room.

"hey! were neighbors can I join you?" too forward.

"lets have a blast tonight!" what's wrong with you?

what if her neighbor liked to go out alone? or what if she didn't go out alone, and just met up with friends? no summer was sure of the fact she did these activities alone. maybe she's just an alcoholic.

she decided to man up and shake off the nerves and just ask. the worst that could happen, would be she says no, and they go about their lives.

while we awkwardly avoid each other for our rest of co-existency.

summer decided to just go ahead and knock on her neighbors door.

"in a minuite!" she heard rustling and things knocking down on the other side for a minute, before the door swung open and there stood a brunette girl with going out boots. she is going out

the girl seemed to be surprised and confused. summer deciding start the conversation, before the girl thought she was just some creep.

"hi! were neighbors, my names rachel, but like everyone calls me summer" she nervously smiled.

"yeah! I've like seen you in the hallway and stuff sometimes" the neighbor nervously rambled.

"yeah me too. look, I don't know if this is weird or anything, but I was wondering if you would be down to get some drinks some time?"

yes summer! you sounded cool and chill!

the neighbor had not been expecting that. she had thought she was going to open the door to her situation ship , ending things with her, for the crap she pulled last night. but when she opened the door to find summer, she thought she was going to get confronted for the fact she had sex in the middle of said hallway last night. she wasn't proud of that fact either.

"oh! uhm. yeah, that sounds nice! -actually, i'm going out right now, did you want to join?"

"yes!- I mean- yeah sounds cool. super cool" summer cringed, realizing she scream 'yes' and seemed far too desperate.

"let me just get changed real quick" she added.

"okay slay! wear something cute! oh! and by the way my names frankie" the brunette smiled.

"sick name!"

"thanks I was gonna say summer's sick too!" the two girls told each other excitedly. this really felt the start of something new and good for the both of them.

____

the two girls hit the town with a sense of belonging. frankie had been searching for the feeling of a girl friend since she moved in, and summer was the ultimate coolest person you can find.

summer was finally happy she built up the courage to talk to her neighbor, that frankly intimidated her.

"wait so that guy from the beginning of the year wasn't even your boyfriend!?!" summer exclaimed as they got off the uber. she remembered seeing a tall boy in the hallway alot.

"nope. i thought he was gonna fall in love with me over time, news flash, I was wrong"

"he's a douche and love is fake"

"got that right" frankie said smiling.

"so... you got a love life?" frankie asked curiously, she was excited to have the bond of girl hood.

"not really, its kinda dead at the moment. I had a boyfriend, but college happened and everything" summer said kinda sadly.

"im sorry, but I mean we can get you laid?" she smiled wiggling her eyebrows.

summer wasn't the type of girl for hookups. she knew frankie was, she often saw them, but she didn't know if she could throw all her eggs in one basket like that. no-hate but she didn't even let her ex-boyfriend do anything to her till it was the summer of their senior year, ad even that didn't go all too well.

frankie saw her in thought and rewinded.

"oh my god! are you a virgin? i'm sorry. we'll find you just love, then!" frankie said hoping she didn't weird out the poor girl.

"no- I mean- well... kinda. its complicated" summer said, red in the face.

"you dont have to tell-"

summer cut her off by whispering something in frankie's ear. something that made her eyes go wide.

"your half a virgin!" frankie whispered yelled.

"oh shut up franks" summer said as the girls got giggling and gave the bouncer there very fake ID's. frankie knew they were going to be a duo.

___

the bar was frankie's favorite and summer soon understood why. it was a cool vintage bar that kind of resembled a dive bar.

the girls ordered themselves some shots and quickly downed them, needing to feel the feeling sooner than faster.

"oh my god, the boys hockey team just walked in" frankie said, turning and facing away from the door.

"why does that matter, their kinda cute" summer said tilting her head as the filed in sipping on her vodka cranberry.

"the douche guy is a hockey player" frankie told her.

"ohhhh. now I get it"

"I also have a little thing with one of his friends" frankie guilty told her.

"the guy from last night?"

"you saw that!" frankie said, embarrassed as hell.

"please. your not exactly quite either" summer told the girl as frankie wanted to die.

"it's not the guy from last night" frankie told her overall guilty as summer gasped.

"I slept with a BU guy last night. but I mean ryan keeps saying were not anything" frankie said shamelessly as summer had her hands over her mouth.

"do the guys know you" summer asked seeing as alot of them kept looking over at the two.

"yes" frankie said scared to ask why she was asking that.

"oh god four of them are coming over" summer said to her wanting to run away. she hated confrontation.

"your staying with me" frankie said grabbing her shirt before she tried to leave her.

"frankie! missed you at the game tonight" will said being petty, they were pissed at her.

frankie turned and looked at all of them, and by the look of their faces they were mad at her. ryan's face made her want to crumble. they weren't together, he made that very clear, but a girl like frankie had needs.

"it was meaningless" frankie told them, avoiding eye contact with ryan.

"he brought it up on the ice" ryan said to her, frankie now noticing he had a light black eye and busted up lip.

"ry-"

"we need to talk" he said, looking the most serious frankie had ever seen it.

frankie turned to look at summer who saw how frankie wanted to fix things between them. she wasn't going to get in the way of that, just because she was afraid to be left alone.

"go" summer urged her. as she gave her a sorry look and walked out behind a fuming ryan, leaving her with three boys.

"well that was uncomfortable" summer joked to the three boys. all of them eyeing her trying to figure out who she was, frankie didn't have friends.

"i'm her neighbor by the way, summer" she added, not wanting to seem like some nosy person as they nodded.

"jacob" a ginger haired guy said

"will" the blonde one said.

"gabe" a boy that summer found unbelievably handsome said.

"you go to BC?" a gabe asked.

"yeah... I know you guys do, good game today " summer said. she had been watching it on ESPN before she went to frankies apartment. they all smiled and thanked her as they got to talking. even though they looked intimidating they were overall nice goofy guys.

"you think lenny's letting up?" jacob asked as he noticed they were still outside.

"I don't know, he was pretty pissed" will said looking at the door.

"did he get in a fight over her or something" summer asked feeling like she was missing out on something.

"yeah. she has him on a leash and they're not even dating yet" gabe said chuckling.

"well they're not official" summer defended.

"they basically are, they hang out everyday" will said

"she said he's made it very clear, that they're not together" summer said.

"that doesn't give her the green light to sleep with other guys though" gabe argued.

"guy. just one. i think you guys are just mad it was with a BU guy" summer said to them.

"I mean obviously! before the champion ship game is crazy too. he was just trying to get in our heads too, especially lennys. hughes is smarter than that" will said while the other two nodded.

they have to be full of themselves, for them to think this is about them!

"all that over... hockey?" summer said confused. hockey was the not a big deal in the oc, where she grew up. but then again, she remembers the quarterback from the cross town rival school, claiming to have her nudes; he didn't.

so I mean they could be right... but that seemed very high school to summer; this was college.

"why'd you say hockey like that" gabe said to her, not liking she said 'hockey' with a tone of disgust.

"I just don't think it's all that serious" summer said, trying to not offend them. obviously still getting under ones skin though, specifically gabe.

"hockeys not important?"

"no! I mean it is for people like you guys-" summer said trying to save herself but failing horribly.

"like us? what's that supposed to mean?" gabe said. he felt summer was some stuck up girl and even though he had found the girl to be quite attractive he didnt know if he liked her all too well.

"not like that. i mean it's important to hockey players and stuff, but like its not someones whole life, you know?" summer didnt even know if she knew exactly what she was trying to say.

"so now you think we have no life?" gabe said honestly just wanting to pick on the flustered blonde.

"oh my god, im just going to shutup" summer said taking a sip out of her vodka cranberry as will and jacob laughed. they decided they liked the girl, gabe not so much.

"do you even know anything, hockey related?" gabe asked still wanting to bicker with the girl.

"not really. I honestly forget its like a real thing out here" summer said.

"you don't think hockey's a real sport" gabe said as will and jacob rolled their eyes. they knew their friend and if they didn't know any better, they'd say he was flirting?

"who doesn't think hockey is a real sport!?!" frankie said, as her and ryan rejoining the group, seemingly on good terms. gabe pointed to summer.

"nice! I knew I liked you!" frankie said giggling as the boys rolled their eyes.

"I didn't even mean it like that, its just I grew up in california. and over there, the closest ice rink is probably three hours away"

"isn't there hockey in california? they have three NHL teams" jacob asked.

"californias big. where'd you grow up?" ryan asked the girl as he had an arm wrapped around frankie.

"the oc. newport beach" summer answered. god she missed her hometown.

"can you surf?" will asked her,

"yeah, pretty well actually. when I was sixteen i got a silver medal for it too" summer answered casually.

"OMG! you have to teach me I've been trying to learn for so long now!" frankie said excitedly, remembering the memory of her and her brothers failing miserably. it wasn't like wake boarding on the lake.

"you guys are free to join us anytime. my parents are traveling across europe, for like a year, so the house is just sitting there, its on the beach too" summer told them as the boys and frankie agreed.

gabe on the other hand just couldn't stop his thoughts of thinking summer was some stuck up girl. everything that came out of her mouth, just now, wasn't helping either. 'its on the beach by the way' who says that! gabe thought.

the night went on, frankie and summer unknowingly becoming the best friends they've always needed, ryan finally happy that him and frankie made it official, and the other three boys creating a friendship with the two girls, it was all just so college.

right now though, the night was close to finished and the boys were taking the two very drunk girls back to their apartments. girls who thought everything in that moment was the most hilarious thing in the world.

the group stumbled on a large hill and it didn't take long for the two girls to want to roll down it.

"frankie and summer don't you dare!" ryan said speeding up, seeing as the boys had been walking a couple meters behind the two girls.

the two girls ignoring his please and giggling. ryan turned his head to look at his friends as if he was giving them the mom look for help. gabe huffed and went to help him, with summer.

"one-" frankie started off as the two girls sat side by side holding each others hands

"two" summer said giggling

"GO!" frankie screamed seeing as the boys were right behind them.

the girls began to slide as ryan missed his attempt to lunge at frankie, while gabe not so much. he attempted to grab summer but lost footing and down he went along with them.

only causing the girls to laugh ten times more, at gabe. summer was laughing loudly, a sound that gabe didn't know if he hated or loved.

"you good gabe?" she said as she held a hand out to him, trying to hold back a giggle.

gabe obviously holding his pride, ignored her hand and got up on his own.

"you are absolutely insufferable" he huffed as he walked past her.

"c'mon perreault! don't be mad at summer! she's just a girl" frankie said as she saw gabe began to walk back up the hill towards the group.

"yeah! its not my fault you ate shit!" summer said, before the two girls unleashed laughter, once again. both taking breaks as they walked up the hill.

"you guys pissed gabe off, him and jacob left back to the dorms" ryan told the two as will began to hold summer up.

"I don't think he likes me very much" summer told them.

"well, your lucky I like you enough to help you" will said as she began to slump herself onto him.

"gabes just being like that because he thinks he's flirting" frankie said against ryans back as he decided to haul her up over his shoulder.

"ewwwww" a drunk summer let out. as the group laughed.

it had been a great night for them, except gabe of course.

[daryltwdixon]

The Ruins of Us: Chapter 3

Summary: Drama continues at camp, following almost directly along with S1 E3

Relationship: Daryl & Reader, Shane x Reader

first warning of this multi-chapter series: Age gap relationship (not Daryl & fmc)

other notes: By now if you're still reading this, you've probably noticed I'm a heavy dialogue writer. I love dialogue. That's just my style and I don't plan on changing it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Lmk your thoughts :)

The guys at camp are packing up the car, getting ready to head into Atlanta. Glancing over your shoulder, you catch the women at camp staring at you from the RV. Huffing, you turn back to Daryl. "What's the deal with everyone here?" you ask.

Daryl shakes his head, mumbling that he doesn’t care. You shift your gaze to the firepit, absently digging your boot into the dirt.

After spending a few hours around camp, it’s clear to you who’s close, who’s just friends, and who’s on the outskirts. You glance up and spot Carol sitting with her husband and daughter. Her husband gives you the creeps—something about the way he looked at you earlier. Carol, though, seemed sweet, even if she was quiet. You figure in time, she might open up to you. The sisters, Andrea and Amy, were fine, but Amy’s remark about Merle left a bad taste in your mouth. You couldn’t really blame her, though. Merle was a jackass, the way he spoke to people was downright unbearable at times. But you and Daryl knew a different side of him, as much as Merle let anyone know him. He wasn’t always like that. As a kid, he’d been funny, even sweet. But their father ruined him. Then, Merle left, abandoning you and Daryl to face that monster on your own. Your mom was so absent even when she was in your childhood home, so you found sanctuary in the Dixon house. Or maybe it was just a sanctuary wherever Daryl was. 

The person at camp you couldn’t quite decipher was the woman you found out was Rick’s wife. You were never really around Shane’s friends or spent much time around anyone he knew when you two were together. You might have seen a photo of Lori somewhere with their son Carl, but you never met them. She was…distant. Friendly to your face but short and tense from the few minutes of chatting with them while things got packed up. 

Rick calls out to Daryl, causing you to get up and brush off your pants, following him over to the van.

“You’re stayin here,” Shane says as you approach.

“Like hell I am,” you shoot back, crossing your arms. “Merle’s as much my family as he is Daryl’s.”

“You are not leaving this camp for a douche bag like Merle Dixon,” he growls at you, pointing at Daryl with an accusatory finger. 

“You better choose yer words more wisely,” Daryl snaps.

“No, I did. Douchebag is what I meant,” Shane retorts.

You can’t help but feel a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, though you quickly stifle it.

Daryl grunts. “I don’t want ‘er outta my sight again, Walsh.” His voice is rough, full of warning.

“Oh yeah, out of your sight, Dixon. When’s the last time you saw her anyway? How many years has it been? When she left for college?” he spits.

Daryl bristles, charging at Shane with his fists clenched. You quickly step between them, holding your hands up.

“Daryl, please,” you say softly, locking eyes with him. “It’s fine. I’ll stay. It’s not a big deal.”

But you’re lying—to Daryl and to yourself. The last thing you wanted was to be left behind. It had been so long since you’d seen Daryl, since you were partners in crime. Truth be told, you didn’t want him out of your sight either. But you knew going to Atlanta was dangerous. You weren’t good with a gun, and you’d only hold them back if things went sideways.

Rick approaches as the others start gathering to leave. You turn away from Daryl, facing Shane.

“I’ll stay. But you,” you jab your finger in Shane’s chest, “you’ve got some explaining to do.”

As the group heads out, you feel the weight of unresolved tension settling over camp. Shane is clearly frustrated with Rick taking such a big part part of the group into Atlanta, while Daryl is with them, fuming about something—whether it’s you, Shane, or just the world at large, you can’t tell.

“Them walkers are gettin closer and closer to camp,” Shane sighs, running his hands over his face.

“Walkers?” you ask, in stride with him. 

“That’s what we’ve been callin’ ‘em,” he says, not looking at you, his tone gruff. He stops walking for a moment, hands on his hips, staring out into the distance. Then, almost reluctantly, he glances back at you. "Alright, spit it out."

You blink, caught off guard. “Spit what out?”

“How’d you end up here? With Daryl?” you demand, your frustration bubbling over. “No one’s telling me anything. I’m just some redneck girl who walked out of the woods with an angry Daryl Dixon, and everyone’s acting like that’s all I am.”

Shane looks at you, then away, clearly uncomfortable. “Can we do this later?” he mumbles, his eyes already darting elsewhere.

Before you can press him, a young voice cuts through the tension. “Shane! Show me how to find the frogs!” You both turn to see Rick’s son, Carl, wiping his eyes as he comes out of his tent. His mother stands in the doorway, her own eyes red and puffy.

Shane’s expression softens as he looks at Carl. A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth before he looks back at you. “I’ve got a date with some frogs,” he says, walking away without waiting for a response.

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・❥・・❥・・❥・

x flashback x

Your first date with Officer Shane was the most romantic date you’d ever been on. Not that he had much competition—most of your dates had been with high school boys taking you to the lake, their grubby hands creeping under your shirt after a couple of beers. Or they always ended up fleeing once they realized your best friend was Daryl Dixon, who was always nearly in Merle's shadow back then. But Shane was different. He picked you up at 8 p.m. on a Saturday, that shy smile playing on his lips. You could’ve sworn there was a twinkle in his eye when he looked at you. His truck was the cleanest, shiniest vehicle you’d ever stepped foot in, and the new car smell hit you the moment you slid into the passenger seat. Shane leaned over, gently grabbed your hand, and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, his eyes glancing up at you.

“I’m happy you came out tonight,” he said, his voice low and gravelly.

You blushed, shrugging, “Got nothin’ better goin’ on.”

He chuckled, putting the truck in reverse. “I’m sure you and Dixon would’ve gotten up to some kinda trouble.” You smiled at the thought as he backed out of the driveway of your childhood trailer home.

Shane drove you into the heart of Georgia farmland, where the night was quiet, the air crisp, and the sky clear. The truck eventually pulled off the road into an open field, and you glanced over at him, curious. He just smiled, that broad, confident grin of his, and stepped out. You watched him round the front of the truck, opening your door with an old-fashioned charm no boy had ever shown you before. He extended his hand, and you slid out of the passenger seat, your hand in his, warmth spreading up your arm from his firm grip.

Okay, a hot gentleman, you thought, fighting back a grin.

He didn’t let go of your hand as he led you around to the back of the truck. Your steps faltered when you saw what he’d set up. A wide smile spread across your face. The truck bed was transformed—a soft blanket laid out, pillows scattered around, snacks arranged neatly, and a bottle of wine nestled in a basket. Two glasses sat nearby, everything perfectly strapped down with bungee cords. You turned back to Shane, your heart swelling at the thoughtfulness of it all.

He was watching you, his warm gaze never leaving your face, his hand still holding yours.

“What do you think?” he asked softly, his voice almost a whisper.

“I love it,” you whispered back, beaming up at him.

An hour later, you found yourself sitting between Shane’s legs, leaning against the back of the truck. His arm rested around you, his fingers absently stroking your hair while his other hand held a glass of wine. The night was peaceful, the air cool, and the sky scattered with stars.

“What’s your job like?” you asked with a playful smile, looking up at him.

He chuckled. “My job?” He paused for dramatic effect. “I’m the deputy for King County State Police, little lady.”

You laughed, nudging him gently. “So what’s it like?”

He thought for a moment, taking a sip of the deep red wine. “A lot of it is pretty boring,” he admitted. “The serious stuff? It’s just about good judgment—keeping people safe.”

“I can’t wait to get a real job. A career ,” you sighed, staring up at the sky.

Shane glanced down at you, curiosity in his eyes. “What’s your plan?”

You thought about it, your mind wandering past the obvious desire to get out of this town. When you really pictured your life in the next few years, it was more than just leaving.

“I want to help people,” you said quietly, feeling the weight of those words as they hung in the air. Shane’s hand stilled in your hair, and you felt his gaze on you, waiting for you to continue. You took a deep breath. “I’d love to be a part of the Red Cross. Be sent out to disasters, help those who need it the most. But first, I want to go to college… if I can.”

“You can,” he said softly. “You will.”

You leaned your head back against his chest, looking up at the stars, then back at him. The sky was lit with a million specks of light, vibrant colors streaking through the black night. It took your breath away.

“So beautiful,” you breathed out, marveling at the sight.

“Yeah,” he whispered, his eyes locked on you instead of the sky.

Before you could say anything else, his lips were on yours.

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・❥・・❥・・❥・

x flash forward x

You walk down to the quarry, the crystal blue water glimmering under the sunlight. Thoughts of Daryl leaving angrily in the van flash through your mind—he barely looked at you today. Something was different. The last time you’d seen him, things hadn’t exactly been good between you two. Back when the world was still normal, you hadn’t spoken for months, maybe longer. But even then, Daryl would never turn his back on you. Today, though, it was like you were just some nobody he found wandering in the woods.

The women are gathered by the water, washing boards in hand, while Shane and Carl splash around near the rocks, laughing. The women talk about the things they miss from before—cars, coffee makers…

“Hey,” you greet quietly, stepping behind them.

Carol glances up with a warm smile. “Hey, come join us,” she says, waving you over. Jaqui, a slender woman with short black hair, dark skin, and kind eyes, scoots over to make room between her and Amy. Carol hands you an extra wash basin and board, her smile soft but welcoming.

You sit quietly with them as they chat, lost in their conversation. Your eyes keep drifting over to Shane, and every once in a while, you catch him glancing back at you, his expression unreadable. You watch as Lori also makes her way down the hill into the quarry, hands on her hips, visibly annoyed. You shake your head, but your ears prick at the sound of the women giggling around you.

“I miss my vibrator,” Andrea says, breaking the quiet. Laughter erupts from the group, and Carol looks around sheepishly. “Me too,” she admits, and the laughter intensifies. You all dissolve into giggles.

Then, heavy footsteps approach from behind, and Ed’s voice cuts through the laughter. “What’s so funny?” he asks, his tone laced with irritation.

“Just swappin’ war stories, Ed,” Andrea replies smoothly, her eyes flicking to yours before returning to her washing. You sigh inwardly—Ed’s not exactly the company you were hoping for. You glance back over to Shane, who’s now deep in a hushed, heated conversation with Lori. She’s pushing at him, clearly angry about something. Your brow furrows. What’s going on between them? You’d think they’d be in better spirits, now that Rick’s back, not to mention Shane’s girlfriend standing right here.

Shane watches Lori turn and head back up the hill, and you watch him, your thoughts spinning. The voices of the women around you escalate, drawing your attention back to them as they crowd around Carol, now standing. Ed’s mood has shifted from irritation to outright anger. He’s yelling something about "prodding the bull," and before you know it, he slams his fist into Carol’s face.

You lunge forward, catching Carol as she crumples into your arms. Shock surges through you, but before you can react, Shane is suddenly there, ripping Ed away from her. His fists crash into Ed’s face, over and over, each punch landing with a sickening thud.

“Shane, please! Shane!” you shout, grabbing his shoulders. He hesitates, pulling back, his breath ragged as he wipes his bloodied knuckles across his sweat-soaked forehead.

You stumble back, wide-eyed and shaken. Ed’s moans mix with Carol’s sobs, the air thick with tension and fear.

[cheynovak]

The plan   

Russell Shaw x F/Reader Y/N            

Warnings: Age difference not too explicit.

Words:  1650 

*Does not follow Tracker’s storyline * 

I finally started writing about Russell, it took me a while, but I hope you like it! Let me know what you think!

-- --      

Russell is ready to start his ‘retirement plan’ like he used to call it. He saw an old brewery on one of his jobs and went back to speak to the owner, an old man named Frank.  

Frank also owns a bar close to the brewery, his granddaughter Y/N works there as a bartender. Russell liked her immediately, realising he had to overcome two impossible tasks. One, to try and win Frank over to buy the brewery, two win Y/N over to go on a date with him.  

-- 

Russell had seen it all. His years working as a mercenary for the Horizon Group had taken him to every corner of the globe, exposing him to the darkest sides of humanity. Now he was ready to leave that life behind and find some semblance of peace.  

His plan was simple: buy an old brewery on the outskirts of town and live out his days crafting beer, a craft he had fallen in love with during his travels in Belgium. The brewery he had his mind set on, an aged brick building with ivy creeping up its walls, had been owned and operated by Frank Miller for the past forty years.  

Frank was well-known in the community for his craftsmanship and the warmth of his pub, which had become a beloved local spot for ex marines. However, convincing Frank to sell was proving to be more challenging than Russell had anticipated. 

It was late afternoon when Russell stepped into the pub, the scent of malt and hops mingling with the aged wood of the bar. The place was cozy, filled with the hum of low conversations and the clinking of glasses.  

As he approached the bar, he caught sight of a younger woman, her eyes sparkling with life, her movements graceful and assured as she served a group of regulars. She could easily be 10 to 15 years younger than him, a striking contrast to the pub's worn-in charm. 

"Can I get you something?" she asked, her voice cutting through his thoughts. Her nametag read Y/N. "Uh, yeah, just a pint of whatever's on tap," Russell replied, trying not to stare. She had a disarming smile, one that made the lines of his past seem a little less heavy. 

As she poured his drink, he couldn't help but notice the ease with which she moved, the way she seemed to know exactly how to engage each customer. When she handed him the pint, their fingers brushed slightly, sending a surprising jolt through him. "First time here?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she wiped the bar down.  

"Yeah," he admitted. "I'm actually looking to buy the place." She laughed, a light sound that made him smile. "Good luck with that. My grandfather's pretty attached to this old place." "Your grandfather?" Russell echoed, a sinking feeling in his chest. "Yep. Frank Miller," she confirmed. "I'm Y/N." Russell took a long sip of his beer, trying to gather his thoughts. "So, you work here often?"  

"Pretty much every day. I've been helping out since I was a kid," she said, leaning on the bar. "So, why does a guy like you want to buy an old brewery?" He glanced around the pub, then back at her. "I've spent my life in a pretty rough business. This place... it feels like the kind of peace I've been searching for."  

Y/N studied him for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. "Well, you're going to have a hard time convincing my grandpa. He loves this place more than anything." Russell nodded, appreciating her honesty. "I'll keep that in mind." 

Days turned into weeks, and Russell found himself visiting the pub more frequently, ostensibly to discuss the sale with Frank, but in truth, he was drawn to Y/N. They began to talk more, sharing stories over the bar, finding common ground in unexpected places. 

Despite their age difference, there was an undeniable connection between them. One evening, after closing time, Y/N found Russell sitting at the bar, nursing his usual pint. "You really don't give up, do you?" she teased, sliding into the stool next to him. He chuckled. "It's not just about the brewery anymore."  

She tilted her head, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Really?"  

"Yeah," he said quietly, meeting her gaze with a flirty look. Her smile faltered for a moment, replaced by a look of surprise and then something else, something deeper. "Russell, I..."  

Before she could finish, the door creaked open, and Frank walked through, his presence instantly commanding the room. His eyes, sharp despite his age, zeroed in on Russell. "Look, buddy, I don't know how many times I need to let you down, but I'm not selling." Russell raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I'm just here for a beer, Frank." 

Frank's gaze softened slightly but didn't lose its edge. "Y/N, you need to look out for this man. He's ex-army. You never know what kind of trouble that can bring." Y/N laughed, a sound that lightened the tension. "So are you, Grandpa."  

He grumbled something under his breath, but a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He turned back to Russell, his eyes assessing. "So, you're here for the beer, huh?" Russell nodded. "And the company."  

Frank looked between Russell and Y/N, and Russell could see the wheels turning in the old man's head. Finally, Frank sighed. "Alright, just keep away from my granddaughter." Y/N grinned, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she refilled Russell's pint. "You heard the man." She winked at Russell. 

As the evening wore on, the pub emptied until it was just the three of them. Russell found himself opening up in a way he hadn't expected, sharing stories Frank, in turn, told tales of his own army days, and Y/N listened with rapt attention, occasionally interjecting with her own memories of growing up around the brewery.  

It was late when Frank finally stood up, stretching his back. "Alright, time for this old man to hit the sack. Y/N, lock up when you're done." Y/N nodded, watching her grandfather leave before turning back to Russell. "He's a tough nut to crack, but he likes you."  

Russell raised an eyebrow. "Could've fooled me." She laughed softly. "He sees a bit of himself in you, I think." Russell looked down at his drink, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "Y/N, about what I said earlier..."  

Y/N interrupted, her tone gentle but firm. "Listen, Russell, you're a nice guy, and I get it. I'm a younger woman who's been friendly and serving you with a smile, but that doesn't mean there's anything going on here, okay?"  

Russell laughed, the sound echoing softly in the nearly empty pub. "That's one way to break a man's heart." Y/N knew he was joking, but she couldn't help but smile. "I know a lot of men, and one thing I can tell you, you don't strike me as the kind of guy who gets his heart broken by a woman." 

He chuckled, appreciating her candour. "You might be right about that, or maybe I haven’t found the right one yet." He leaned in closer.

She tapped his hand on the bar, signalling the end of their conversation. "Now, pay up so I can close up." Russell reached into his pocket and pulled out some cash, placing it on the bar. "Keep the change." Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Big spender tonight."  

"Just trying to stay in your good graces, might need it to win Frank over." he said with a grin. She shook her head, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. "Good night, Russell."  

"Good night, Y/N," he replied, standing up and giving her one last look before heading for the door. 

-- 

The next day, he found himself back at the brewery, ready to face whatever came next with a renewed determination. Whether it was winning over Frank or getting to know Y/N better, he felt ready. But when he arrived, something was off. The brewery was closed, and a couple of police cars were parked out front.  

Russell’s heart sank as he spotted Frank talking to the police. He quickened his pace and approached the small group. “Frank, what’s going on?” he asked, trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice. Frank turned to him, his face lined with worry and suspicion. 

“There was a robbery last night,” he said, his voice gruff. “And Y/N’s been missing ever since.” Russell felt a cold wave of fear wash over him. “Missing? What do you mean, missing?” Frank’s eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer to Russell.  

“She closed up last night, didn’t she? You were the last one here. Now she’s gone, and you show up again this morning?” Russell raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Frank, I swear, I left shortly after you. I haven’t seen her. You have to believe me.”  

One of the officers stepped forward. “Mr. Shaw, is it? We’ll need to ask you a few questions. “When was the last time you saw Ms. Y/L/N?” Russell recounted the previous evening, explaining how he’d paid his tab and left shortly after Frank had gone to bed. “I went straight back to the motel and didn’t see or hear anything after that.”  

The officer nodded, taking notes. “We’ll need to verify your alibi. In the meantime, if you think of anything, please let us know.” Russell nodded, feeling a mix of helplessness and frustration.  

As the police continued their investigation, he turned back to Frank. “I want to help find her.” Frank’s gaze softened slightly, but the suspicion lingered. Russell pulled out his phone. "I might know a guy who can help us." He said with his phone to his ear. He turned away from Frank.  

"Colter?... I need your help." 

--

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Tag list:-> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read! If anyone feels like you're tagged too much, also let me know please. :)

@suckitands33

@mostlymarvelgirl

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@jackles010378

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[jr-acrux101]

Meeting Abby -

(Extension of Carousel - prequel)

Summary: What Mike didn't know was the two of you had already met, and Abby wholeheartedly approved.

Word count: 2.3k

Tags: pre-established relationship, fluff, dates

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This was your 3rd date since the carousel meeting. Mike was still well Mike, the more quiet, nonchalant, and tired type.

Mike really was interested in you but his mannerisms did leave you questioning if he did or of he was trying to get a quick fuck.

The two of you sat at the diner, it was 1 in the morning. It was an odd ass hour to have a date but Mike said it was because of his work hours. Though there was a tinge of fear that maybe you were a side chick or he was trying to land some action.

You were wide awake, you had a nap after class so the sleep wasn't creeping on you but it was slowly on Mike.

Every so often he would nod off and blink himself awake, hoping you wouldn't know; you did.

"Do you want to schedule this for another time?"

He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head 'no.'

"You look tired Mike."

He liked it when you said his name, and showed concern.

"S fine. I have a semi-normal shift tomorrow."

"Then you should be sleeping then. I don't mind waiting. "

Mike didn't want to say so he shrugged instead. "S fine," he repeated.

You gave a sigh but nodded. You noticed the book by. "What's the title?" You asked, cutting the country fried steak to eat.

"Oh um it's called dream theory. It's … hmm.. it's about how every single thing we see is stored in our brain in like this deep vault and dreaming subconsciously unlock those tiny details."

"Hmm. I think I've something similar to the whole we remember everything subconsciously but I never really looked into it. Though I guess it could explain my art."

"Your art?"

"Yeah about half my paintings are landscapes, but I don't really remember any of those places when I was too small. Like um when we went to see snow the 3rd time around when I was a little older and able to grasp some things, I remember I dreamt this oasis of cold in the redwood forest, a tree had fallen down and was mostly covered but some red was showing. Anyway, I dreamt it but don't remember the actual day, just that one scene and when I painted it my mom was shocked I even remembered that specific place. I was still small, she even showed me pictures."

"What made it stick out that you mom knew it was the place you guys went too?"

"Oh um hehe yeah, there was this small grave with flowers on it. It was in the painting as well."

"How old were you?"

"Maybe anywhere from 3 to 5."

"And you remember that detail."

"I'm assuming so, the picture my mom showed was when I was like 1 but we revisited again about that age range. There were no pictures at that spot again because of the grave. We recently started going again and I leave flowers."

"That's nice, I mean to leave flowers for someone you don't really know."

"Yeah, I guess. It was such a lonely place for a grave though so I guess maybe that's why I leave flowers, so they're spirits can know someone else enjoys that spot too. They must have really loved it to be buried there."

"You believe in spirits and the afterlife and all that?"

You hesitated, "I don't know. Do you?"

"Maybe," was his short reply. The conversation came to a stop as the two of you ate quietly.

Glancing at the time, you say it was 1:30 a.m. now.

You quickly finish as Mike finishes his. "Come on l, get up." You leave $25 on the table for the food and tip. Mike protests but still allows himself to get dragged away.

The moon is full, and the asphalt is wet from the earlier rain. You jump on the bed of the small beat pick up truck, patting the seat next to you. Mike took the offer and sat next to you.

With the dead of night and few lights, the two of you stargaze. Mike listens as you ramble on and on about the constellations, giving a nodded and humm of acknowledgment to show he's following along.

He looked at you. As you talked and talked, he loved how your hair frames your face, or how he noticed you fret about your mascara even now and then especially if you laughed a little too hard you'd cry a bit, he liked how passionate you got, and he really liked how kind you were.

While he would get praised for taking care of his sister from strangers, for being kind and self-less. He still felt selfish in a way.

He looked at your headband, shiny black and small. Abby popped into his mind. He knew that after texting for a day he was already too deep to let this be a fling.

It became silent after you were done listing the constellations, now just appreciating the night.

Mike cleared his throat to talk, and you turned your attention to him.

"Would…," he breathed out, "would you want to meet my little sister Abby?"

Your eyes widened in shock. While Mike didn't say much, he said even less about his sister. Another reason why you thought this was maybe just a fling, or trial run before he really got out there.

You opened your mom to speak but nothing came out.

Mike sighed and got up. "It's fine. I gotta go-," "Wait!"

Mike stared as you went up, "I wanna meet her! I do, really. It's just I was shocked since you've never like well talk about her."

Mike stared at you still not really knowing what to say. "Look Mike. What do you want out of this? Before asking if I wanted to meet your sister I was kind of getting the impression this was like a fling. And I'm not really interested in a fling right now."

"Oh."

"Oh?" You questioned.

"Well what made you think this was a fling?"

Mike looked down, not really wanting to look you in the eyes. "I don't know, I just got the feeling you weren't too interested. Mike, well we've only been together for about 3 dat3s. I genuinely can't recall anything you like or dislike or memories you've shared. Even when I text you it feels a bit one-sided."

"Oh."

You hummed as you continued to look at the stars, giving Mike some time to collect his thoughts.

"I'm not really a big talker if you haven't noticed. To be honest, I like to listen to you talk. You have a nice voice."

"Okay."

He gave you a look, "Okay?"

"Okay I can work with that. I just needed to know if it was disinterest or if that's just how you are."

"So it's fine? If I don't speak a lot most of the time."

"I guess we'll find out together, but between you and me I like that whole stoic, "bad boy" look / attitude you have."

Mike laughed and smirked. "Bad boy?"

"Mike every now and then you look like a genuine degenerate."

Mike raised his eyebrow. He closed the distance between the two of you. "Yeah? Isn't that what you like though." He whispered before he gave you a chaste kiss.

You blushed and gave a small laugh. "Yes, yes I do."

You brought out your phone and the time read 2:30 a.m.

"What time do you have work?"

"11 a.m. to 5 p.m."

"Mike!"

He had an amused look on his face, "What?"

"Oh my god! Go home already you have work in less than 12 hours ! You still have to sleep!"

"Don't sleep much to be honest." You huffed air out of your nose.

"Well you should."

Mike grinned, and he put his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. "I like the color green."

You smiled back. "Green? Hmm…"

"Hmmm… what?"

"It fits you."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Yeah of course, green is a very strong but soothing color."

"It is."

The two of you sat in silence before Mike's phone rang. He looked at it and rolled his eyes.

"Hello. Yeah. Yeah, got it. Okay I'm on my way."

He gave a sigh, "Sorry that was my aunt. I asked her to babysit but I guess something came up at her place."

"Oh okay that's fine. Text me when you get home so I know you made home safe."

He gave a tired smile, "Isn't that my line to you?"

"It would be if you weren't running on minimal sleep."

"Fair enough. But text me too okay, in case I forgot while talking to my aunt or you get home first."

You gave a nod and he gave you another chaste kiss. You blushed again, and smiled. He hopped off the truck and waved bye. You waved as he left the parking lot in his beat up car.

You rushed inside your car and towards home, excited to tell your friends everything.

With texts of 'I'm home,' and 'goodnight' s, the two of you feel asleep dreaming of each other.

A week had passed before Mike brought up meeting Abby again. This date was way earlier and on his day off.

"Do you think she'll like me?"

Mike paused. "I'm not sure to be honest. Not ! Not that you're unlikable or anything like that! She's just a timid kid, hell she barely likes me."

"I'm sure she likes you Mike."

"Yeah well you haven't met her," he grumbled.

You gave an amused look but relented. "So she gets out in an hour right?"

Mike nodded.

"Okay and you said she likes art right? To draw and such?"

Mike nodded again. "Okay, perfect. I'll be back here at 3!"

As you started to slide out the booth, Mike stared at you confused. "Wait where are you going?"

"Don't worry I'll be back." You practically dash out the door to your car.

Mike gave a frustrated sigh and got up after paying the bill. 'I guess I'll just have to wait until 3 too then.' He ran a hand through his curly hair and hopped in his car.

Mike parked at the diner, looking back at Abby. "Okay we're gonna meet a friend of mine okay Abs?"

Abby furrowed her brows, "Your girlfriend?"

Mike nodded. Abby stayed silent. He got out of the car as did she. He held her hand as they entered, he spotted you immediately.

You h/c shining from the sun, you were drinking water while reading a book. Lost in your own world Mike cleared his throat. You looked up at him and then down at the little girl.

Abby recognized you as you recognized her. "Hi!”

Before you could get another word in, Abby motioned you forward. You raised an eyebrow towards who gave a shrug reply but you went with her request.

“Don't tell Mike about Mr. Bunny.” She said in a hushed whisper.

You stared at her then at Mike and then at her again. “Okay. Got it. But why?”

Abby looked at Mike, shoved him slightly to get away from their secrets. She cupped her hand, “Because I want to have a secret between us. I like you, you gave my Mr. Bunny when you didn't have to.”

You gave a warm smile, “ Okay deal. Pinky promise, and seal the deal.”

As you pinky crossed and thumbs stamped together, Mike gave you an expectant look.

Abby slid in across from you and Mike sat next to her.

“What?” He rolled his eyes.

“What were you two whispering about?”

“It's a secret!” Shouted Abby.

Mike looked at you again. “Sorry can't see, those are the secret rules and it's backed by a stamped pink promise. You'll never know.” You have a sad look and shrugg. Abby laughed at your expression and Mike shook his head.

“Well I guess it can't be helped.” You and Abby nodded.

You remembered a thought, “Oh yeah!” You rummaged through your bag and got the present for Abby you bought.

“Here you go Abby. It's a sketchbook for your private drawings.”

“Private drawings?” She turned her head to the side.

You smiled at her, “Yeah, drawings for yourself. I have a lot of them that I don't wanna share because they're private and for me.”

“You draw!”

You nodded and hummed. “Can you draw me something?”

“Uh sure. Is it fine if it's in your book?”

She nodded vigorously. “Okay what do you want me to draw?”

She pondered the question. “Oh! A bunny!”

“A bunny? Hmm okay like a realistic bunny or a cartoon?”

“Cartoon.”

“Yeah sure.”

Mike smiled. “Yeah she's been obsessed with bunny's after some girl won one and gave it to her instead.”

You fought off the smile as you drew, and Abby giggled. Mike gave her a questioning look but all Abby did was stick out her tongue, which Mike did back, only for a split second though.

Mike and Abby watched as you sketched out the cartoon bunny, erasing and redoing the line a couple of times. You finished the outline as food came, Mike ate and watched as you stuck your tongue out slightly finishing up the little details. It had a top hat and a bow.

“Alright Abby, here you go!”

Abby squealed in delight. “Thank you!” She stared are your drawing as she ate, it did resemble Mr. Bunny. Mike noticed that too but thought it was a mere coincidence.

The meal went smoothly, with Abby begging for a shake and Mike giving in. Sitting here, you thought it was nice, maybe something to get accustomed to. In fact, you hoped it was.

♧♤♧♡♧♡♧♤♧♤♧♤♡♧♤♧♡♧♤♧♤♧♡

Y'all I can't stop writing im procrastinating 😩 anyway enjoy!!

Taglist: @stinkii-boii @hellothisisprincesskitty

[unspeakable-imagination]

Cigar Smoke and Sleepless Nights || Part 7

Cw: fighting/sparring, language, use of tabacco

1.5k words. My requests are open, my Masterlis is here

It was nearly midnight and you sat in the library, hunching over one of the bulky computers. You were working on one of the projects you’d been assigned. It was stupid science project that Hank shoved upon you, explaining that you had to spend your time learning just as every other student, no matter the age in the mansion. You supposed you were grateful for the fact he was giving you something to do, aside from cleaning and beating the bags downstairs.

The blue light casting from the screen was giving you a headache. You leaned over the desk and rubbed your eyes, groaning in a mixture of frustration and irritation. “I hate screens,” you muttered as you pushed your chair backwards. You winced at the sound of the metal scraping on the floor and abruptly stood “Fucking chairs.” You left your items at the desk as you paced towards the library door, deciding to go outside for a smoke break. Maybe you could return with a cup of tea with rosemary to cure your poor feeling head.

The trip to the back door was fairly easy, and, just as you'd seen before, Logan was outside, leaning against the wall in his usual spot. His cigar hung loosely from his lips as his gaze casted downwards. His expression was far, as if he was zoned out. He looked lost, just staring at the walkway. You went to your place on the opposite side of the door, grabbing your cigarette and newly-refilled zippo. You were able to spark up your vice and leaned against him. The moment you took a drag and exhaled the smoke, he shook and his head snapped up. His eyes zeroed in on you and he blinked, returning to reality. You hesitantly waved.

“Hey… you good?” His lips smacked as they parted, the seal around his cigar breaking. “You seem kinda out if it?” he pulled the cigar away from his mouth and aucked on his teeth, blowing the last if smoke out his nose.

“Yeah, I'm okay. I was just thinking. Didny even hear you come out.” You nodded, apprehensive of his response. You were unsure if he was telling The truth just because of how uncharacteristically quiet he'd spoken. It was a stark contrast to his usual abrasive tone.

“Yeah, okay. Okay.” She sighed watched your smoke blow in he wind. You both fell silent, listening to the owls and the other night creatures calling into the night. You lifted you head, your neck bearing as you stared at the moon, the slim cresent seeming to call to you. You closed your eyes and swallowed, relaxing into the wall. You'd been unconsciously continued smoking your cigarette, like you were on autopilot, your hand routinely lifting and dropping with each breath.

You hadn't noticed that your cigarette was burnt out till you took another drag and felt the heat creep against your finger, startling you. You jumped and dropped the butt, then looked at the tiny red marks between your fingers where you had burned. It was really a burn, but it was enough to spook you back to the present.

You pursed your lips and stepped on the filter, Snuffing out any other heat or amber that it may have had before picking it up as your garbage. You glanced at logan as you shifted and twisted to the door. You walked inside, placing the filter into a hallway garbage can, making your way to the kitchen.

You were able to make your tea and return to the library as planned, the drink on a stool. You didn't place it on the desk out of a worry that you'd knock it over and ruin the computers. You wrinkled your nose just at the thought. Since you were much more relaxed, you were able to focus on your project and got back to work. It was reliably easy to get a good portion of the work done, spending another hour and a half on it until you decided you should take your time to clean the halls that you're paid for.

That too, passed fairly quick and you found yourself in the gym. Kicking and rolling against the light-weight punching bag, you were panting. You paused your movement and huffed. Lifting your hand to still the bag and reset it to start again. You took a deep breath while rolling your eyes up to the ceiling, trying to find a center and motivation to keep going.

The loud, banging and mechanical sound of the door opening made you jump and you smelled the familiar adamantium scent. Your head snapped to Logan and he nodded towards you, acknowledging your presence.

“Do you want to spar?” You blurted. “I don't get enough socialization with other people and you're the only person I see awake. It would be easier to fight a human that moves than a punching bag on a chain, right?” you'd clearly Caught him off guard. His eyebrows raised and his head tilted A little.

“Uh, yeah?” he shrugged his shoulders and then shook his head, wiping the look off his face. He pointed a finger towards the sparring ring on one side of the gym and turned on his heel to walk to it. Quickly. You slid out of the way of the bag you'd been at and beeline to the ring, getting a little excited that you'd finally get to have some real human interaction.

Smoothly, he ducked under the rope and into the ring, you quickly following suit. You gravitated to the opposite edge of the circle That he went to and your turned to face him he put his arms up and you mimicked him, poorly. When he looked at your arms, his head tilted and he scoffed.

“That's how you think we're gonn’ fight?” She put his arms down and strutted the few paces forward. Embarrassed you put your arms down,

“I don't know how?” You explained. He clicked his tongue and grabbed your arms, pulling them up and closer inwards, and your throat went dry. You stared At his hands as he readjusted you, his drip moving to your hips to readjust your stance. Your arms faltered and he looked back up through his brows and grabbed your arms again.

“strong, keep them tense don't let them falter. This is a pretty basic stance, if you're going to fight me, You're going to do it right.” You hastily nodded, and he stepped back and looked you over. He shrugged and gave a face that said ‘that'll do’ before he went back to the opposite side of the ring And stood there.

“Come at me, kid.” You dropped your arms and gave him a look.

“What?”

“Arms up,” he snapped. You quickly put Your arms back in front of your torso and tensed them the way he told you. “Come and hit me,” he said.

“I- uh, okay. I can fight without the stance though.” Slinking forwards you quickly tried to punch towards his ribs, but he sidestepped you and grabbed your wrist, yanking you further forward into the roping of the ring. You bounced off of it and spun around to poom at his mildly amused expression.

“Can you, now?” You turned red and stepped forward, doing something similar jutting for his ribs but faking him out and putting out your foot To trip his sidestep. He stumbled and the smirk fell from his face as he caught his balance. He Twisted and looked at you as you swung a leg up to kick towards him. He caught your ankle and pushed it to the opposite side, pulling you off your stable leg towards the ground. You put your palms out and sprung yourself up, doing a handspring and landing on your feet next to the edge. Your lips involuntarily pulled back and you hissed out of reflex.

He let out a breathy chuckle. “Impressive, not something I can really do,” he said. He stomped forward and you ran towards him and slid under, between his legs. You popped up behind him like a gopher and swiped his leg, and he fell, but twisted quick enough that when he grabbed your triceps, that you fell with him. You landed ontop of him, and took the opportunity to headbutt him, forgetting that his skull was made of adamantium. Your head rang, your sight went blurry and your ears were singing. You wobbled And he pulled himself out from under you. He sat up smoothly and grabbed you by your shoulders to brace you. Faintly you heard him talking. You swallowed and blinked, your hand shooting up to grab your temple. You heard him curse, and slowly, theringingg subsided and your vision focused in.

“Hey, hey you okay?” you looked at him, blinking away the shock.

“Yeah, i- I'm good? I just have a hounding headache. I forgot you're bones are metal. Really rattled my brain,” you muttered.

He chuckled. “You've got balls, girl. You've got big fuckin’ balls.”

“Actually, I don't. I think I need to go take some tylenol and go to sleep,” you saw him smile as you turned your head, crawling off of your knees and leaving the ring.

Taglist: @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @callsign-ember