DATING RUE WOULD INCLUDE:

PEDRO PASCAL as JOEL MILLER in THE LAST OF US (2023-), ep. 3 Long, Long Time

YALL IM BEGGING SOMEONE TO MAKE AN EDDIE MUNSON SMUT I AM LITERALLY ON MY HANDS AND KNEES BEGGING SOMEONE TO MAKE A GOOD X READER SMUT WITH HIM

THIS!!!!

i really don't mind nat dying on a narrative level (otherwise im fucking devastated) because like. yes, she was turning her life around. she was becoming better she was recovering and the yellowjackets fucked it all up. cause they make each other worse. they already fucked lottie up to the point she had to be commited, they killed nat, and they're probably gonna continue ruining each others lives

i don't think it's a coincidence both of them were the "queens" too. whoever gets the reigns crumbles under the weight of the others' faith

Baby Clifford & baby Snoopy

GO EASY ON ME

eddie munson x fem!reader

( gif credits to @drogonstone )

—

WARNINGS: young pregnancy (19), accidental pregnancy, post-break up, angst (happy ending, i promise!), mentions of potential abortion (doesn’t happen), crying, swearing, verbal fight, car crash metaphor (very brief), both reader and eddie have absent fathers, allusions to sex, jason carver being an asshole.

[ if there’s anything that i’ve missed, let me know! ]

—

SUMMARY: finding out you’re pregnant after your breakup with eddie isn’t exactly the best timing.

( not really following the plot of the show but set around season 4 with all the same characters etc. )

—

WORD COUNT: 3k

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A/N: i hope you enjoy this! please like, reblog and comment! :) this is a little rushed, but i didn’t want to drag it out too much in case people weren’t interest in too much fluff lol XD

—

you could almost remember the last time you and eddie had sex before the breakup. it wasn't exactly anything special or earth-shatteringly romantic, it was basically hurried and strictly fucking, not making love like you used to. just a means to release steam and get off.

that was proven by the lack of words spoken after you both finished, before rolling over to opposite sides of the bed and going to sleep.

but you weren't at all surprised by the lack of talking and intimacy, in fact, you had grown accustomed to it over the past couple of months. to say that you had both drifted would be an understatement. you had hardly shared more that 10 words within that time, simple small talk and questions about dinner and or what the plans were for the day.

with eddie having to repeat his senior year, again, you had graduated last year. you were nineteen and eddie was twenty, you had both met at high school. you were in a band who wrote shitty rock songs and performed them at small bars and events. you weren't popular by any means, but everyone knew who you were and they respected you. you stayed out of their way and they stayed out of yours.

eddie was the complete opposite. he was dramatic, loved causing problems and putting the attention on himself. he revelled in the feeling of eyes on him and loved to rile people up, especially the jocks. but you didn't care about that, you knew you loved him as soon as you met him. he was such a character and you felt pulled in by those dark brown eyes.

he was sweet, the perfect boyfriend. he wasn't boring, he brought new surprises to the table each day, always exciting you. he was caring and protective, always putting you first above the d&d campaigns, above drug deals, above the band. you understood his hobbies and you fully supported them, you were the proudest girlfriend and loved eddie more than words could ever express.

but something happened in the last two months, you had no idea what, but eddie had drifted, he'd been spending extra time at d&d campaigns, spending more time with the guys from the band. it wouldn't have been a problem if he hadn't been missing dates, and hang outs with you. graduation was drawing closer for him, which you completely understood him being busy focusing on all of this, but it wasn't helping your relationship.

he had begun to push you away. you could see it in his eyes that he had slowly lost interest. you spent hours wondering where it all went wrong, what you had done to make him push you away. but it came to nothing.

but a few days after the last time you were intimate, you both decided to call the three-year-long relationship off. you had taken all your stuff from his uncle's trailer, and he's taken his from your house that you shared with your brother. you were absolutely heartbroken, but in the long run, it was probably for the best.

but life wasn't that easy for you, because no less than two weeks after the breakup were you staring at a positive pregnancy test.

it couldn't have been worse timing, but there was no way you would get rid of this baby. the thought had run through your head plenty of times, but you couldn't bring yourself to do that.

after another week of mulling over your options you eventually broke down to your brother and told him everything. him and his girlfriend comforted you as you sobbed the whole night, they promised you that no matter what they would support you and help you.

they had both encouraged you to talk to eddie. you had originally planned to tell him sooner, but he was really hard to get ahold of. you called and he was always busy or he was too tired to meet up, it was hopeless.

you were now fourteen weeks along, and starting to show, thankful for your affinity for oversized clothing and t-shirts which helped hide your situation.

you wore your oversized black sabbath t-shirt when you went to eddie's trailer, you knew he was home because his van was parked outside. you were glad that his uncle worked night shifts, because you didn't really want to do this in front of wayne.

you were mad, furious even, your anger bubbles inside of your chest just begging to be released. you wished things hadn't happened like this, it would've been easier to have found out you were pregnant whilst you were both still dating, not like this.

but you were also angry at eddie for not making an effort to see you these past few weeks. you had called countless times, begging him to meet you just for five minutes to talk, but he was constantly busy. which fuelled your angry knocking on his trailer door, reaching the point of frustration that you couldn't care less if you woke his neighbours.

this was your first time back at his trailer since the breakup, it felt strange, you were used to using your spare key to go there whenever, and just casually strolling in, but you couldn't do that anymore.

when eddie answered the door, he was wearing his hellfire t-shirt and a pair of red plaid pyjama pants. his hair was messy as usual, clearly in need of a hairbrush.

"what do you want?", he groaned, running a hand down his face.

"well you weren't making time to meet me, despite me begging about thirty times," you deadpanned, crossing your arms across your chest.

"i've been busy, y/n. you know that," he rolled his eyes, one hand leaning against the doorframe.

"well, you're not busy now, munson. and we really need to talk," you ducked under his arm, and made your way inside the trailer.

your eyes scanned the room and noticed how little it had changed. you hadn't necessarily expected big change, or eddie and wayne to completely redecorate etc, but you would've thought eddie would've at least taken down the posters you had got him.

you heard the door close behind you and turned to face eddie, who looked utterly exhausted.

"why are you here?", he asked, his voice void of emotion.

"why the hell are you being like this?", you scoffed, crossing your arms again.

"like what?", he scoffed, crossing his arms too.

"so damn hostile, eddie! we loved each other, we were together for three fucking years! as far as i knew, our breakup was mutual, and we could be in the same room without wanting to rip the others head off," you exclaimed exasperatedly.

eddie sighed and stepped a little closer to you, and you tried to read his eyes and body language but it was useless, he was a damn closed book.

"not everything is about you y/n! god, i can be in a bad mood and it doesn't have to be anything to do with you," he argued.

"well, what's wrong?", you asked, almost feeling bad for him before he shut you down again.

"you're not my fucking therapist y/n. why are you here?", he huffed.

"i wanted to talk to you."

"so talk!", he exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air exasperatedly.

"maybe it would be best if i came back at a different time," you sighed, turning to the door.

"there won't be a better time! just say what you needed to say and then leave!", he shouted, causing you to turn around to face him.

this was not the same eddie munson that you fell in love with. he would never talk to you like this, look at you like this, he would never even think of raising his voice at you. this was not the man you wanted to father your unborn child.

"you do know you're the reason that we broke up, right?", you said, fists clenching as you felt that familiar ache in your chest that you've been feeling since you broke up.

eddie only rolled his eyes. "i thought i might be."

"you just shut down completely eddie, you shut me out! you hardly looked at me, or talked to me anymore. i tried to fucking hard, and i got nothing in return from you," you shouted, your nails digging into your palms so hard that you were sure crescent moon shaped indents would be appearing on your skin.

"is that the reason you came here? to yell at me about how i was an awful boyfriend? we'll let me tell you this y/n, you don't know anything. and i am certainly not in the fucking mood for this!", he yelled back.

"i never said you were a terrible boyfriend! you were a perfect boyfriend right up until those last moments, and i don't even know what happened to you, to us. and you're never in the mood, that's the fucking problem!", you argued.

"well, i guess it's a good job we're broken up then."

"you're just fucking impossible eddie. what happened to you, huh? you used to be the sweetest most caring boyfriend ever, and it's like you woke up one morning and chose not to be. where did the man that i love go?", you cried, exhausted with eddie's out of character lack of care.

"it's just life y/n. things change, people change," he ran his hands down his face as he turned away.

you were angry. he wasn't paying any attention and was completely dismissive to you and your feelings.

"don't turn your back on me when i'm talking to you!", you exclaimed.

"you're not even talking, you're fucking yelling! i don't wanna' listen to it, this isn't where you live anymore y/n, so please leave," he spun around to face you, running a hand through his hair.

"i'm not going anywhere until i say what i wanted to say!"

"so fucking say it, then leave! give me some goddamn peace and quiet!", he scoffed.

"you asshole, i'm fucking pregnant!", you shouted.

eddie froze. the kind of stoicalness where his eyes were wide, his lips parted, his heartbeat running a mile a minute. his fists which were balled up at his sides, an anxious habit of his, released. he felt like he had just been hit by a truck, like his ribs were crushed and his lungs punctured and he couldn't breath.

"y-you're...what?", he breathed out, his eyes wide as he stared at your teary form.

"i'm fourteen weeks. i wanted to tell you sooner, but you wouldn't give me a chance," you explained, the date eliminating his first question about the validity of him being the father.

but he also knew you, he knew there was no way you would ever move on that quickly. eddie slumped down onto the couch, his eyes casted to the ground as he slowly blinked, trying to process what had just happened.

"pregnant. you're pregnant...yo- we're having...a baby," he breathed out shakily, his eyes casting up to you as you tugged the fabric of your black sabbath t-shirt tight to your back so he could see the small bump that had begun to form.

he felt his eyes begin to sting as they welled up with tears. when you were together, eddie wanted nothing more than to start a family with you in the future, you had both spoke about your aspirations and future plans during one of your dates. but this wasn't how he wanted it to be.

he didn't hate you, not at all. he could never hate you, you were the one good thing in his life that made him feel like he belonged, that he was significant.

you gently sat on the couch beside him, keeping just under a foot distance between you. you stared at your hands which rested in your lap, just waiting for eddie to say something.

you expected him to yell at you, to call you names, or kick you out. but the words that left his lips stunned you into complete silence.

"i'm sorry."

your head lifted to meet his eyes. the tears now fell freely.

"what?", you spoke, your voice almost a whisper.

"i'm so fucking sorry. i'm so sorry," he began to sob, the damn breaking and all of his emotions overflowing.

you instinctively wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he clutched your shirt, his body shaking as it wracked with the sobs. one of your hands smoothed over his hair, the faint smell of cinnamon and apple filling your nose as you pressed a kiss to the top of his head. he had clearly just gotten out of his shower before you arrived, still using your shampoo that you left there.

it smelt like home. it felt like home. being in eddie's arms again gave you hope that everything was going to be okay.

the rest of the night, the pair of you just talked about everything. a lot of tears were shed. but you had finally gotten your explanation for the distance before the breakup.

jason carver was the reason. all throughout high school, jason had feelings for you, but you rejected him every time because you was utterly in love with eddie. after graduation, you decided to take a gap year in order to save up money for when you eventually moved away to college. you had a dream of studying law at georgetown, and you had good enough grades and references to do so.

but the problem was, jason wasn't used to not getting what he wanted. so he used his influences to his advantage, he cornered eddie and threatened him that if he didn't break up with you, then he would make sure his fathers friend, the dean of georgetown, wouldn't accept you.

eddie knew he had to. there was no way he was going to risk your future and your dreams. so he started to drift from you, in hopes of making it less painful and questioning that just out of the blue breaking up with you.

eddie sobbed as he told you how sorry he was over and over again, he felt awful for what he done to you.

“i promise, i’m going to do better than both of our father’s. i’m going to be there every step of the way, it means so much to me that you’re giving me this chance,” eddie spoke, his voice breaking a little as the tears still fell. “i’m going to be the best damn father ever.”

“oh eds,” you whispered, wiping away his tears with your thumbs.

he looked up at you, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape as he looked towards your belly.

“can i…?”, he asked, trailing off after you nodded, instantly knowing what he meant.

you gently lifted up your shirt, holding it just beneath your chest which revealed the fourteen week bump. eddie felt more tears begin to roll softly down his cheeks, he looked nervous to touch you. so you took the initiative to carefully pick up his hand and place it on your belly. once his breathing steadied, you removed your hand and watched as he placed the other one carefully beside the one that was already on your belly.

“hi baby, i’m eddie. i’m your…i’m your dad,” he spoke through his tears, his hands caressing your belly so gently in fear that he would hurt you or the baby.

eddie could be quite heavy handed, but he was always so gentle with you, so this was no exception. he leant forward slowly and pressed a small, lingering kiss to your belly.

you bit your lip to prevent the happy tears from falling at eddie’s actions. seeing him like this, so soft and paternal made your heart skip hundreds of beats.

“i can’t wait to meet you peanut, but you’ve got to grow for a bit longer in your mommy’s belly. we both can’t wait to meet you,” he spoke softly, his head still lingering near your belly.

“peanut?”, you asked, a small chuckle slipping past your lips.

eddie looked up at you through his lashes, his soft brown eyes just reminding you once again why you love him so much.

“yeah, it sounds cute,” he shrugged with a small smile.

“hmm…peanut. it’s cute,” you hummed.

eddie began to sit up, your eyes connecting. in that moment, it felt like you were back as your sixteen-year-old self, about to have your first kiss with your lifelong crush.

“can i kiss you, please?”, he whispered, his right hand reaching up to gently cup your cheek.

you looked at his furrowed brows and pursed lips, seeing the sincerity in his eyes and you nodded.

he gently pressed his lips to yours, it felt like nothing had changed. it felt like a cold glass of water on a hot summers day, the first bite of a fresh strawberry, hearing a crowd cheer after a gig. it felt refreshing, but also comforting. he was so soft and delicate, nothing was more comforting than eddie.

you loved him more than life itself.

—

twenty-six weeks later, you held a six pound, four ounce baby girl in your arms at hospital. eddie sat on the edge of the bed, tears in his eyes once again as he gently ran his index finger up and down your babies tiny little nose.

“peanut was very fitting,” he spoke up, causing you to look up at his tiredly through your lashes.

eddie simply smiled at you, and his smile was delightfully infectious.

“i love you sweetheart,” he grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to your sweaty forehead.

“i love you too, eds,” you smiled back, both of you looking back to your beautiful baby girl.

“i love you too, my little peanut. i can’t wait for life with you and your beautiful mommy,” he cooed at your sleeping baby.

“I’d rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not.”

— Kurt Cobain

all up in smoke

masterlist

pairing: frank castle x f!reader

summary: based on the prompt: 'sit on my lap and let's smoke a joint'

warnings: alcohol, weed (rolling a joint, smoking, shotgunning), frank being a cute little whore, heavy petting/teasing but no sex, high epiphanies (mostly fluff!)

a/n: happy late birthday to the ever lovely @chelseasdagger , this one is for you babeyyyyy 💗

Home is a solace on your lips as you step inside, your keys joining the others in the bowl by the front door. Despite the events of your day, still fresh in your mind, you feel the knotted tension in your body begin to dissipate, the pressure easing in your temples. The few lights that have been left on are dimmed, filling the house with the kind of ambient coziness you’ve been longing for all day. 

You round the corner, and there he is on the couch: feet kicked up on the coffee table, immersed in a hardcover book you swore he’d never touch. A pang of emotion stirs in your stomach — a cross between yearning and consolation; something you just can’t place, but are grateful for nevertheless. 

“Hi, Frankie,” you smile, drawing the curtains open, letting the cool night air filter into the living room. 

He lifts an eyebrow, glancing up at you from behind the book. “Hey, sweetheart. Long day?”

You stretch your arms over your head, nevermind that his voice stirs something in you, and set your bag up on the kitchen counter. “Mmhm. Glad to be home.”

Frank leans forwards, fingers closing around the drink he’s left on the coffee table. His eyes flick to yours as he takes a sip, caring not to break contact, before jerking his chin at the bottle of scotch next to your bag. “You want some of that?”

He points at you, clicking his tongue as you move to pick the bottle up. “Don’t move. Stay right there.” Setting his book aside, the pages splayed face-down onto the table, he makes his way over, utterly impervious to your flurried attempts in getting him to remain where he is.

“D’ya really think I’d let you pour your own drink?” Frank says, looking affronted, but a furtive smile spreads along his face as you shake your head.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Let me take care of ‘ya,” he adds, delicately.

Carting you gently to the side, he digs around in the freezer, reaching for a couple of ice cubes that clink mellifluously in the glass. You watch intently as they bob in line with the whiskey streaming in, and then as he inspects the amber liquid closely, as if to examine its quality. 

When he’s satisfied, he turns to you, and raises the rim of the glass to your mouth. “Here,” Frank murmurs, condensation collecting around his fingertips. “Drink up.”

You shudder as the whiskey cascades hotly through your veins — each note of pepper, caramel and nutmeg lingering on the surface of your tongue like molten honey. You swallow another mouthful before pushing the glass away, not taking your eyes off of him for a second as he sets it down.

Frank runs his tongue over his teeth, raking his eyes across your face. He focuses on a stray drop of whiskey at the corner of your mouth, using a knuckle to brush it away. Your heart thunders at his calloused touch; as he pauses to swipe his broad thumb over your bottom lip. There’s a faint throbbing within you — a wild drumbeat steering you towards nothing but desire — so you flick your tongue out, circling his fingertip, relishing in his taste of salt, earth and whiskey.   

He lets out a soft groan, mumbling something that sounds like your name; maybe even a plea to slow down. You’re attentive, knowing he doesn’t want this night over yet, that he wants to wait before taking you to bed. 

It’s a good thing then, that you have something planned. 

You inch forwards, swallowing as Frank’s hand sweeps over the contours of your face, coming to rest at a spot near your ear. He tips your chin upwards, letting his ragged breathing fan over you. He stalls, allowing his dark eyes to bore into yours, and for a moment you forget where you are, the stressors of the day long gone.

All you know is him. 

His beard prickles your skin as he captures your mouth with his own, but you lean into the kiss, savouring his ardent warmth. He moves with you, deepening the kiss as you slide a hand into his hair, curling your fingers at the nape. Your thighs squeeze together as he pivots you around, pushing you against the counter while his tongue melts against yours. Using his leg to knock your knees apart, you arch into his touch, gasping as the bulge in his jeans settles where you need him the most. 

You won’t be able to stop if you don’t pull away now.

“Frank,” you whisper. “Frank.”

He looks at you, placing a small kiss to your jaw. “Mm?” 

“Before… uh,” you start, lightheaded and fuzzy, unable to comprehend anything but the heady weight of the whiskey and the ache between your legs. “I've got something for us. A little surprise. And I think,” you indicate, wagging a finger from him to you, “we should save this for later.”

He arches his eyebrows, smiling inquisitively. “Yeah? And what’s that?” 

You step aside to rummage through your bag, taking only a few seconds for you to find what it is you’re looking for. You hold up a clear plastic container, giving it a little shake in front of Frank’s face. His eyes widen in comprehension.

“God, I love you.” 

“Hey,” you smirk, “not God. Just me.” 

He chokes on his own laughter, draining the last of your whiskey. “You got it, sweet girl.”

You bite down on your growing smile. “Anyway, I was thinking the plan could go something like… get a little high, have some fun. You know what I mean, right?”

“S’that right?”

“We both deserve it.”

“You need some help with that?” he asks, pointing at the rolling papers you’ve set down on the counter. 

“Nope. Walk away.” 

You’re an image of rapt focus with your tongue between your teeth, cautiously grinding the weed before packing it into the rolling paper. You slip a filter on one end of the joint, and using your thumb and forefingers, you roll it into place. Bringing the free edge of rolling paper up to your mouth, you skirt your tongue along the narrow strip of glue, quickly moving to seal the joint. 

You shoot Frank a resolute look of determination. “Not bad, huh?” 

He folds his arms over his chest, leaning back into the couch. Almost hidden in the tangle of his beard, the corners of his mouth tick upwards. You can’t quite tell if he’s astonished, impressed, or a mixture of everything in between, but the expression on his face is a priceless ego boost. “Attagirl.”

“Mmhm,” you reply drily, admiring your handiwork from up close.

“Baby?” Frank calls, breaking your tethered focus. A glimmer of a smile in your periphery catches your eye.

“Yeah?” 

There’s a sound of rustling fabric as Frank spreads his legs, motioning you over to him by patting his thigh. “C’mere.”

Your gaze softens at his request. “That sounds good, Frankie. Let me grab my lighter.”

“Got it right here,” Frank chuckles, holding it up and thumbing it open.

Twirling the joint in your fingers, you meander over to his spot on the couch, watching the tiny orange flame dance in his eyes as he holds down the lighter button. 

He’s a solid comfort under you as you sit down on his lap, shuffling back until the side of your body is angled to his chest, using the armrest as additional support. His scent is a blissful, pacifying force – distilling in you where it matters. 

Frank wrests the joint from your grip, assiduous in the way he places it between your lips, then as he lights it for you. The lit end glows as the papered edges begin to burn, flickering in its reflection in the window ahead. You take a drag, letting the smoke fill your mouth before inhaling it into your lungs. Maybe it’s in your head, but your body feels lighter already; even more so as you exhale. 

The grey-tinged smoke remains opaque for only a second, vanishing into the air as soon as you pass the joint to Frank. You breathe out again, more deeply this time, allowing the grassy, herbal scent of the weed wash over you in waves of tranquil calm.

You cock your head to the side, studying the normally terse man before you leisurely smoking the joint, taking two drags instead of one. Gratitude forms a lump in your throat — nights like these are rare, and to see him so carefree, his mind unoccupied by the workings of the larger world, is a luxury you’ll never get tired of. 

After tapping the gathering ashes into his empty whiskey glass, Frank hands the joint back to you, closing his eyes while he waits for your next pass. As the weed-induced euphoria starts to take effect, you wrench one of Frank’s hands from its spot on your thigh, interlacing your fingers together. You take your time in mapping his knuckles, tracing over every crease, scar and perfect imperfection. 

You tap on Frank’s shoulder, wanting him as a credible witness for a successful smoke ring, but like all your past attempts, it morphs back into a cloud, hanging there in contempt. 

He laughs softly, putting you right to shame with a series of flawless rings that fall forwards in an arc towards the coffee table. 

You giggle, jabbing him in the chest with an expertly-placed elbow. “Don’t get too cocky now, Castle.”

His mouth quirks to the side. “Yeah? What are you gonna do, hm?”

“I’ll…” you search around the room for something to say. “I’ll withhold sex!” 

He gasps, feigning an expression of outrageous offense. “That’s cruel, darlin’.”

Laughing, you reassure him you wouldn’t, really, but he takes the opportunity to soar through the cracks of your defense, hauling you backwards until his face is flush with the shell of your ear. “Really think you could resist it? Not havin' sex?” 

The retorts crumble away as he tells you to ‘open up, sweetheart’, lifting the joint back to his lips. He breathes in deeply, turning his head to then exhale the smoke into your parted mouth. Your eyes roll back as he seals it with a kiss, and it catches you a little by surprise, but you run with it, inhaling as much as you can.

Not quite ready to let go of your earlier comments, Frank does it again, shotgunning into your mouth until you're left with nothing but a dreamy expression and no thoughts left in your mind.

You let out a contented sigh as the weed goes to your head, absentmindedly rubbing the spot where his beard scratched your lip. 

Eyes drooping, Frank wraps his arms tightly around you, holding you as close as he can, trailing kisses along your shoulder blades, down your arm, whispering sweet nothings and notes of ‘I love you’ until you slacken in his grip. You touch your lips to his forehead, now resting in the crook of your neck, his steady breathing keeping you anchored to your reality.

The next hour passes by in a haze — you’re mildly aware that there was another joint rolled in that time, courtesy of Frank, probably, but your memory retains the best parts: the giddy, high epiphanies, the smoke-filled kisses, the long-drawn-out touches… the fact that his skin has never felt so soft.

Exceptionally and utterly stoned, you move, draping your legs over his lap, clinging onto his neck so you can bury your face in his shirt – so spaced out that you barely register him talking. 

“...Who the fuck is “Drake” anyway?” 

“What?!” you sputter, snickering as if it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. “He’s a rapper, Frankie.” 

“He’s off limits, so don’t even try” — you stumble over your words — “enacting your justice or… whatever.”

Frank frowns at you, pressing his lips into a thin line. 

And then he bursts into laughter. Unequivocal, heaving sobs of hysterical laughter. And it might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. 

“Enacting my justice? That what you think it is?” he howls, bringing his fist down onto the couch. “You really think I’ve got nothin’ better to do than hunt down rappers?!”

“A little bit,” you sniffle, wiping away the tears of joy streaming down your face. “You know who’d love this conversation?” 

He shakes his head as you continue. “Micro.”

“Micro,” he nods, affirming your point. “Bet he’d know more about “Drake” than me.”

You chortle at his aggressive hand gestures. “You don’t need air-quotations every time you say Drake, you know.”

He waves a hand in the air. “Ahh, I know.”

“Frank Castle,” you say, kissing his cheek once, then twice, “I think this is the wisest you’ve ever been.”

“Oh, c’mon. Really?”

You gesture at the stub of your second joint, floating in the bottom of his whiskey glass. “Yep. You might have to do this more.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.”

“Better me than what’s out there. Right, Frank?” you croon, batting your eyes at him.

“S’right, darlin’. That’s right.”

tags {x} @darlingshane @castlesnchurches @reborn-rekall @marvelswh0re @itwasthereaminuteago @simple-lovebot @chvoswxtch @pedrito-friskito @chellestrash @theradioactivespidergwen @twilightbarnes @splendiferous-bitch @bl4ckpr1ncess @kaybeeboop @kdogreads @swearwolf13 @rqgnarok @qu1etwolf @honeyedheartss @runa-falls @whistle1whistle @awkwardalie

🏹﹒♱ ┊ hunting lessons. hunter nat scatorccio

🎧 𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙸𝙽𝙶 fade into you by mazzy star

synopsis. nat teaches u how to hunt.

cw. friends to lovers trope (?), shooting an animal.

wc. 2.8k

n/a. just finished binge-watching yellowjackets and fell in love with nat (and shauna and pre-crash lottie), i almost combusted and threw up when i saw the lack of fics 😖 had to do something abt it so here y'all go 🙌🏻

It was already afternoon, and you had devoted most of the entire morning to chopping pieces of wood. The stack of wood grew steadily higher, as you meticulously arranged each piece, ensuring there was enough to sustain a warm fire for at least three days. It was a laborious process, but one you found solace in, the repetitive motion calming your thoughts.

The crisp winter air filled your lungs as you swung the axe, each powerful stroke splitting the logs with a satisfying thud. Your breath formed small clouds of vapour, mingling with the falling snowflakes. As you continued your diligent work, wood cracking echoed through the quiet surroundings, accompanied by the occasional chirping of distant birds.

With the woodpile complete, you wearily cleaned your tools, removing any lingering wood chips, and carefully stowed them away in their designated place. As you finished, a gentle voice called out from behind you.

"Are you finished?" Tai asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

Turning towards her with a tired smile, you nodded and replied, "Yes, finally done. I managed to gather enough wood to last us for a few days. I'm just going to take a quick nap upstairs, though. My body could use a rest."

Tai's eyes widened slightly, her concern evident. "You've been working so hard today," she said empathetically. "Make sure you get some good rest. I'll keep an eye on the fire and wake you up if anything happens."

You appreciated her thoughtfulness and gratitude washed over you. "Thanks, Tai," you replied, "I'll only be upstairs for a little while. Wake me up if you need anything, okay?"

She nodded and gave you an encouraging smile. "Take care. I'll see you later."

With a final wave, you made your way wearily inside, your tired footsteps echoing on the wooden floor. Climbing the stairs, you reached the attic, shedding your heavy outerwear and sinking into the comfort of the bedsheets. The weariness of the day settled upon you, and as your eyes closed, you drifted into a much-needed slumber.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs stirred you from your sleep. You groggily registered the noise but dismissed it, assuming it was just the usual household activity. However, your drowsiness was quickly interrupted when you felt someone settling down beside you. Startled, you blinked your eyes open to find Nat, grinning mischievously.

"Well, well, well, look who decided to hibernate for three hours instead of twenty minutes," Nat teased, her voice laced with playful sarcasm.

You groaned, rubbing your eyes and turning to face her. "Damn it, Nat. I can't believe I overslept like that. Why didn’t you wake me up?"

She smirked, propping herself up on one elbow. "Oh, and miss the opportunity to witness your adorable sleeping face? No way. It was too good to pass up."

You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving her shoulder. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Guilty as charged," she replied, grinning unabashedly. "But hey, since you're finally awake, are you ready for your hunting lesson? Or do you need another three-hour nap?" She teased.

Your groggy mind took a moment to process her words, realizing that you had completely forgotten about the hunting expedition. With a tired sigh, you covered your face with the blankets, only peering out with an adorably exasperated expression.

"Nat, do we seriously have to go hunting?" you whined, your voice muffled by the cozy fabric. "I mean, can't we just... I don't know, I honestly wouldn't mind chopping wood for the rest of my life. It's a lot less daunting than tracking down wild animals, don't you think?"

"Chopping wood for eternity? Seriously? That's your alternative plan?" Nat replied, amusement lacing her voice.

"Hey, at least chopping wood sounds a little less intimidating than embarking on a hunt. And besides, check out these guns I’ve got now," you said, flexing your biceps with a hint of cockiness.

Nat chuckled and teasingly poked your side. "Oh, come on, Mr. Lumberjack. Where's your sense of adventure? Besides, hunting isn't just about killing animals; it's about survival, connecting with nature, and embracing the wild." She said with a fake inspirational tone.

"Damn, now you sound even crazier than Lottie," you jokingly remarked.

Nat widened her eyes in mock surprise, placing a hand on her chest in an exaggeratedly offended manner. "You better take that back," she playfully retorted.

"Okay, c'mon now, let's go," she urged, her tone indicating a hint of excitement. "It's gonna get dark in just a couple of hours, so we better get moving." Taking the lead, Nat reached out and gently took your hand, tugging you downstairs. Her touch was warm, and you couldn't help but feel your chest flutter a bit at the contact.

In the dimly lit room, Nat guided you towards the equipment laid out on a table. With care and efficiency, she helped you put on the necessary gear, ensuring everything was secure. As she fastened the straps and adjusted the fittings, her touch was gentle yet purposeful, a tender familiarity you couldn't help but notice.

She then retrieved a neck gaiter and gently slid it over your head, adjusting it snugly around your neck. Pulling it up slightly, she positioned it to cover your mouth and nose, shielding you from the chill in the air. Your eyes met for a fleeting moment, and in that exchange, a flicker of unspoken affection passed between you.

Nat took a step closer, her gentle touch pulling the hood of your attire snugly over your head. With utmost care, she tucked away any stray strands of hair behind your ears. The simple yet affectionate gesture didn't escape your notice, and a warmth stirred within you. However, both of you remained oblivious to the unspoken attraction that lingered in the air. Underneath the fabric concealing your face, a faint blush spread across your cheeks, as her considerate actions revealed her protective nature, further endearing her to you.

Breaking the silence that enveloped you both, Nat let out a playful remark, bringing a smile to your face. "Alright, let's get going before Lottie goes all wicca on us,” she quipped. “Last time she made Travis and I down one of her weird ass drinks and it tasted like shit," she added with a grimace, eliciting a chuckle from you.

With determination in her eyes, Nat led the way as both of you stepped outside into the pristine white landscape, the snow crunching under your boots. The biting cold nipped at your cheeks, but the excitement of the hunt kept you warm from within. Heading north, you scanned the surroundings, searching for any signs of movement or animal tracks. The towering trees stood tall, their branches adorned with a delicate layer of snow, creating a picturesque scene that contrasted with the anticipation pulsating through your veins.

"Remind me again, Nat, why couldn't we just stick to shooting cans in the comfort of our ‘backyard’?" you asked, your tone filled with a mix of curiosity and mild protest.

Nat flashed you a wry grin, her eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and wisdom. "Shooting cans is child's play, Y/n,” she replied, her voice laced with a hint of playful sarcasm. “I wanted you to experience the real deal, the hands-on thrill of hunting. You know, the kind that makes your heart race and your senses come alive,” she exaggerated her tone with fake enthusiasm. “Don’t be a pussy," she added, teasingly emphasizing her point.

"Yeah, right. Whatever you say," you huffed, eliciting a grin from Nat beneath her face-covering.

You continued walking for a couple of minutes, the snow crunching under your boots with each step. Suddenly, you felt Nat's arm gently press against your chest, bringing you to an abrupt halt. Instinctively, you turned to look at her, only to find her blue eyes locked onto something with an intense focus. You followed her gaze, directing your attention to the right, where a tree stood proudly. Underneath its branches, a small, fluffy bunny nestled peacefully in a bed of fallen leaves. Its delicate form rose and fell with the rhythm of its slumber, completely unaware of your presence.

With a cautious demeanor, Nat carefully retrieved the gun from her side and placed it in your hands. Sensing the need for stability in your aim, she commanded you to lie down on the ground, where you could rest your arms against the earth. It was a thoughtful decision on her part, recognizing that shooting while lying down would provide a steadier position, especially since your aim needed improvement. In this way, she intended to teach you to utilize the support of the ground, enabling you to better control your shots.

As you settled into the prone position, the weight of the gun pressed against your palms, and the coldness of the ground seeped through your clothing. Nat positioned herself intimately close beside you, her body snugly fitting against yours, perfectly mirroring your stance. She delicately wrapped her arms around you, providing a comforting embrace.

As you were about to adjust your face-covering to facilitate better communication, Nat's delicate touch reached out and gently tugged it down for you, revealing your faces to each other. In that moment, her gaze lingered deeply on your lips, and then her eyes met yours with an intensity that stirred a flutter in your stomach.

Whispering softly, her warm breath grazed your ear, creating a delicate shiver that traveled down your spine. The proximity of her lips to yours was tantalizing, and you could feel the gentle warmth of her breath caressing your mouth. It was as if the air crackled with an invisible magnetic force, drawing you closer together.

"Remember to load the gun," she reminded you, her voice barely audible over the winter breeze, but her words were merely a backdrop to the unspoken tension that swirled between you. Her arms encircled your body, providing not only stability but a sense of security and reassurance. In this moment, you were acutely aware of her presence, her body fitting perfectly against yours, as if you were two puzzle pieces destined to interlock.

As you prepared to take your shot, the weight of the gun became secondary to the fluttering sensation in your stomach. Nat's captivating gaze and the proximity of her touch made your heart race with intensity.

"Take a deep breath in... and exhale," Nat instructed, her voice a soothing melody cutting through the crisp air. And with each inhale and exhale, you felt your racing heart steady, the rhythm of your breath aligning with the tranquil surroundings.

As you aligned your sights, the world around you blurred, leaving only the target in your vision. In a fluid motion, you squeezed the trigger, the recoil rippling through your body. The shot echoed through the air, a testament to your growing skill.

The bullet found its mark, striking the bunny with precision. A sense of excitement and accomplishment washed over you as you witnessed the small creature stir and then lie still.

Elation bubbled up within you, and turning towards Nat, you couldn't help but grin from ear to ear. "Did you see that? Nailed it!" you exclaimed, your voice filled with both triumph and a playful undertone.

Nat's eyes sparkled with surprise. "To be honest I wasn't expecting much from you," she admitted, a playful smirk curling on her lips. "You've definitely surprised me."

"Ouch, no faith in my skills, huh?" you replied with a mock pout, pretending to be hurt by her lack of expectations.

She chuckled, a glimmer of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Well, you know, I've always believed in your ability to surprise me in the most unexpected ways," Nat retorted, her playful tone matching yours, as a glimmer of tension began to weave its way into the air.

In that moment, as Nat spoke, her eyes caught sight of a stray strand of hair gently drifting towards your face. Without hesitation, her fingertips delicately brushed it behind your ear, her subtle touch sending a shiver down your spine, and as your eyes met, you both felt an undeniable tension building between you. Time seemed to slow as she lingered there, her gaze shifting from your smile to your eyes, softness settling over her features.

Your heart quickened as you mirrored her actions, and the magnetic pull between you grew stronger, intensifying the tension. With each passing second, the unspoken connection sparked in the air, enveloping you both. As you leaned in, the space between you narrowed, causing the world around you to fade into the background.

But just as your lips were about to meet, a rustle in the distance broke the spell, bringing you back to reality. Startled, you instinctively pulled away, the moment shattered but not forgotten. A mixture of disappointment and curiosity filled the silence, leaving an unspoken question lingering between you: What could have been?

As the charged atmosphere slowly dissipated, and you and Nat found yourselves back in the present moment, a voice broke through the silence. "Finally, there you are! Dinner's ready, guys. We're all waiting for you," Shauna said, unknowingly interrupting the moment.

You both turned towards her, momentarily startled by her arrival. You exchanged a glance, a mixture of disappointment and gratitude for the timely interruption. Nat composed herself and returned Shauna's smile. "Thanks, Shauna," she replied, her tone masking any hint of the emotions that had filled the air just moments before. "We'll be right there."

With a nod, Shauna turned and walked away, leaving the two of you laying there, caught in a mixture of emotions. Instinctively, you both decided to mask the intensity of the moment and carried on as if nothing had happened.

You quickly regained your composure, and without missing a beat, you casually reached down to retrieve the bunny. Nat followed suit, and together, you started making your way back to the cabin for dinner.

The journey back to the cabin was quiet, each step accompanied by a lingering tension. The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the surroundings into a dusky embrace. As darkness settled around you, the soft glow of the moon emerged, casting an ethereal light upon your path. Words seemed unnecessary, as the weight of the unspoken hung between you.

Just as you were about to reach the cabin, lost in your thoughts, Nat's hand unexpectedly found yours, causing you to turn towards her with surprise. Without a word, she turned you around and pressed you against the closest tree. The moon's soft glow highlighted her intense gaze, and the tension between you grew palpable.

In an instant, Nat leaned in, her lips meeting yours with an intensity that left you breathless. The forcefulness of the kiss took you by surprise, but you quickly responded, fueled by the eagerness and pent-up desire that had been building up between you.

In that moment, you let go of the bunny, allowing it to drop to the ground, as your arms instinctively wrapped around Nat's neck. Your fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, desperate to deepen the kiss. The urgency between you was palpable, as if you both had been waiting for this release, a long-awaited culmination of unspoken feelings. Nat's hands slid down to your waist, pressing against you with a fervent desire.

As the kiss deepened, you felt Nat's playful nibble on your lower lip, and you softly parted your lips, wordlessly inviting her to explore further. With a gentle push of her tongue, she sought entrance into the intimate depths of your mouth, craving the taste of it.

After what felt like an eternity, Nat finally pulled away, her breath mingling with yours as she rested her forehead against yours. A mischievous glint sparkled in her eyes.

"Shit, I'm sorry," she breathed, her voice filled with a mix of apology and exhilaration. Her breath came in short bursts as she tried to regain composure. "I didn't mean to pounce on you like that, It's just that our moment back there kinda messed me up, and I couldn't wait any longer,” she confessed, her voice tinged with a touch of self-deprecating humor.

You couldn't help but chuckle softly, trying to catch your breath as you looked into her eyes. "Well, that was quite the way to show it," you replied, your voice laced with a teasing tone. "But I can't say I'm complaining. I was hoping you'd make a move. Shauna interrupting us almost gave me blue balls," you joked.

Laughter erupted from both of you, the lingering tension from earlier dissipating into thin air as you shared this lighthearted moment. With that, the two of you straightened your clothes and made your way back to the cabin, joining the rest of the team for dinner.

When you've read nearly all the hobie fanfics and now In need of desperate new content

(fr guys I need more hobie fanfics)