#girly keeps catching strays

[clfixationstation]

people are arguing on twt over whether Mikasa or Historia understands Eren the best, when the clear answer is Armin

[spacexgrl]

Bittersweet ! 🎀

mdni <3 you’re here pt 6

series masterlist 💋

~ in which Ellie breaks up with you and you go a little crazy ~

ex! ellie williams x fem! reader , abby anderson x fem! reader

college au!

warnings: SMUT!!! angst, break up, cheating,cursing, toxic behavior, smut in future chapters, sexual themes<3 feminine and girly reader ,not proof read!!

taglist: pls comment if you want to be added! <3 @elliessweetheart @lonelyfooryouonly @vamp1reg1rrrl @autisticintr0vert @amsxdoll @addthespaghetti @hemmo01 @elliecoochieeater @to-the-stray-dogs @undercuver @teenagemoonharmony @velvetcakegirlie @kl1q @cirrusdoll @icedsimpsayo

“aww you and your little girlfriend got nicknames already?”

“will you ever just shut the fuck up??”

Ellie scoffed, mocking the way Abby said the sweet nickname through the speaker of your phone as you ended the call to open up the door, revealing Abby in all her glory, golden locks falling over her broad shoulders, still a little damp from the shower she took right after practice. She was wearing casual grey sweats and an obnoxious black prada tank top the shiny silver triangle on her chest caught your eye instantly, it fit her in all the right places, hugging her toned physique like a glove..fuck you’re drooling… you didn’t catch her Ocean eyes checking you out as well..shamelessly ignoring Ellie right beside you, taking in your deliciously smooth legs in those cute little shorts, you left little to no imagination in the victoria’s secret shirt you only buttoned right in the middle..you knew what you were doing..you had to

“missed me, sweetheart? hope Williams over there didn’t harass you too much”

she enjoyed the way Ellie’s face lit up in anger,blood rushed into her cheeks feeling threatened by Abby, she wanted to punch that disgusting grin out of her stupid face as she stepped into your apartment as if she owned it and pressed her lips on yours, giving you a sweet kiss, touching your waist where she did just a few minutes prior..still mad at herself for not catching you in your weakest moment..she thinks she might throw up if she has to see this any longer..the loss love of her life making out with her sworn enemy right in front of her definitely wasn’t on her 2024 bingo list.. maybe that was her karma for treating you like a worthless piece of garbage..

“i’ll kick her out just give me a second-“

you broke away from Abby’s kiss, not wanting to go any further before Ellie left entirely..but Abby’s eyes darkened..she seemed to have something else in mind…

“wanna show her who fucks you better?”

your eyes sparkled as you nodded eagerly

“fuck yes”

Ellie’s eyes widened as you walked up to her after whispering with Abby, she didn’t really give a fuck about what you were talking about until you grabbed her hands and forcefully dragged her into your once shared bedroom, pushing her into an armchair right in front of your bed without any time to react.

“be a good girl and stay put yeah? don’t fucking move..just keep your eyes on me”

you whispered in her ear as you unbuttoned your shirt in front of her, discarding all your clothes on the ground of your bedroom floor painfully slow until you were completely bare..Abby was doing the same in the background..goosebumps spread all over her body as the scene unfolded in front of her. Abby’s lips found yours again, she pushed you into the mattress positioning herself between your legs her rough hands traveled to your dripping pussy, she felt your clit pulsating on her fingertips

“fuck baby..you’re so wet for me wanna fuck you so bad”

she dipped two fingers inside your gaping hole..you hissed at the stretch of her thick fingers but you didn’t care for the pain you needed more..little whines escaped your lips as she began to hit your sweet spot with every move your eyes rolled behind your skull as you felt the familiar sensation of your orgasm building up only to be let down by her pulling her fingers out without a warning

“f-fuck you abby!”

slap!

you gasped as her palm collided with your cheek, the sting lingered on the reddened flesh of your pretty face..tears dared to spill out of the corners of your glossy eyes as she grabbed your jaw and forced your mouth open with her thumb spitting on your tongue.

“don’t get bratty on me now,doll”

you swore you could’ve released an orgasm right there and then as you swallowed her hot saliva heavy mascara stained tears ran down your cheeks..Abby’s hand still firm on your jaw. Fuck you looked so fucked out already Ellie thought hypnotized by the way you whined and begged for Abby fuck she wished it was her you were screaming for instead..jealousy and anger built up inside her chest.

“m sorry Abby please fuck me please! need your cock so bad-!”

Abby couldn’t wait any longer, she forced your face down the fluffy sheets and lifted your ass up, mufflig your pathetic sounds,bending you the way she pleased..manhandling you like a rag doll. She took her time with strapping up, making you grow more impatient you felt like you were going to die if she didn’t fuck you now. You felt her heavy tip tease between your ass..sliding it up and down switching between your asshole and pussy lips as you were about to beg her to fuck you already she entered your sweet cunt..slamming her entire length inside cursing to herself as you arched your back and moved your hips to match her rhythm.

“ohmygod!! yesyesyes-! just like that don’t stop-“

you screamed even louder when she grabbed a handful of your hair, forcing you to look in Ellie’s direction as she fucked your brains out from behind..high on the delicious stretch of her thick length kissing your g spot over and over again…you chanted Abby’s name like it was the only thing you knew as you locked eyes with Ellie as if you were talking to her..”abby!- fuck you’re so good baby ‘m close-“you noticed her fighting with herself she wanted to hate this she really did but she couldn’t help it fuck she loved the way you sound..your pornographic moans were music to her ears, the way your ass bounced every time you met abby’s hips with obnoxiously loud and wet slapping noises had her mind spinning god you were such a desperate slut getting off on showing Ellie what she’s missing..and it turned her on so bad

“be a good slut and tell Ellie who’s better yeah? keep your eyes on her as you cum”

Abby’s demanding tone went right into your pussy, getting wetter every second, creaming on abby’s cock..fuck you were dripping on your sheets.

“yes-! only you can fuck me like this abby! best i’ve ever had oh-!”

your breath hitched as the sweet wave of release hit you, vision blurry but your eyes always trained on Ellie’s as you came down from the high of your orgasm. You whined as Abby pulled out slowly, missing being full of her already. She caressed your cheek and gave you a sweet kiss “sorry for being so rough,baby i’ll make it up to you” you wondered how she can fuck your brains out and then be the softest person ever like nothing happened. “don’t worry abs..loved it so much” you smiled as you captured her pretty lips again god you couldn’t get enough of her..

The way you acted like Ellie wasn’t still there was so infuriating, she wanted to make a scene and scream at you but abby would absolutely beat her to death if she did so she bit her tongue..she silently got up from her comfortable position on your arm chair and got ready to leave..cringing at the wetness between her legs. what the fuck did just happen? She thought as she threw on one of Joel’s old jackets, secretly hoping that you’d hit her up to join you some time..

“Ellie wait”

you called out for her as she was about to go through your door..have you changed your mind already? Yeah you probably did she thought.. she didn’t blame you though..you just can’t resist her can you?

“take your shit before you leave bye!!”

you shoved the cardboard box into her chest and pushed her out of the doorframe closing it in her face. damn…she couldn’t help but smile at the way you treated her..she liked you getting revenge on her, she liked that you were mean to her..it made her want you even more, no she needed you so fucking bad..you were the only thing running through her head right now..she didn’t even notice how her girlfriend had called her various times..texting her that she will be going to sleep because she felt sick..asking if she could stop by some pharmacy to get medicine to treat her nausea..but Ellie really didn’t give a fuck right now..she’ll take care of it tomorrow..now she needed to take care of something else..she got comfortable on Dina’s couch and rubbed herself on the thought of you..

fuck she cursed to herself..only you could make her cum like that

💫

Abby helped you change your bedsheets after several rounds..you needed to return the favor that’s the least you could do!..images of her pussy grinding on yours never leaving your mind..she made you feel so good how have you ever lived without her?

“what’s on your mind, babe?”

Abby asked, sneaking her arms around your waist hugging you from behind as she left small kisses on your neck. You wished you could stay like this forever..but you needed to get this out of your chest so you turned around, facing her now.

“I like you Abby..I love fucking with you but i want you to take me on dates. I want something real with you..i want everything of you..even though sex alone is really fucking good”

you joked at the end, brushing off the sudden nervousness that washed over you..Abby always had this effect on you she made you feel shy as if you were a school girl talking to her crush for the first time god you’re embarrassing get it together. Abby’s eyes softened as she grabbed your hands..they were so small compared to hers.. she kissed your wrists and took in the sweet scent of your perfume, pulling you into a warm embrace, leaving a tooth rotting sugary kiss on your forehead.

“you’re so precious,angel..i’ll give you all of me yeah? i promise to treat you like the princess you are..wanna be yours whenever you’re ready”

yeah..you could definitely get used to this…

🎀

pt 7

[luveline]

I don’t really have a request I just love anything you write💗 maybe something with girly!reader?

thanks lovely💗

Spencer wrings his hands behind his back, shifting from one foot to the other unhappily. He hasn't felt this nervous since he was young —his PhDs have acted as a shield for years now. Even if he doesn't know what to do, he physically cannot be stupid. 

He feels pretty stupid. Less when you look up, smile blinding and sticky with gloss. He's thought about how it would feel to kiss you before and he tries desperately to push the thought away now, his hands shaking where they're hidden. 

"Hey, Spencer Reid," you say, lightly teasing as you wave him toward you. "How are you?" 

"I'm good." 

"Yeah?" You gesture at the empty seat in front of you. "Are you having lunch?" 

The bureau cafeteria is less of a cafeteria in the kitchen sense and more of a staff room, though hot food is served at the very back. There are couches toward the patio of an outdoor area to the left. You sit at one of the tables near the doors. The air is cold around his ankles as he sits with you. 

"No, I– I came down for coffee, but the jug is empty." It's a bad lie. Luckily you have no idea that there's a kitchen in the BAU offices. "You're not?" 

You turn your laptop screen to him. "I ate my lunch at my desk. I'm just catching up with my show." Your laptop has stickers around the screen, silver shiny stars and tiny pink hearts that look like they're made of jelly. There's a closed bottle of nail polish resting near the keyboard. "And I'm gonna touch up my nails, too. They're always chipping." 

"They look perfect to me," Spencer says. 

You beam at him, beatific, so, so pretty, he could die. He might. "Thanks, honey. You'd look cute with painted nails, have you ever thought about it?" 

Spencer honestly forgets about his nails. He should take better care of them. He thinks about hiding them under the desk. "I don't think I could do it." 

"No one's good at it, at first. I'd paint them for you, if you wanted. I have a couple of things in my bag." 

Spencer's relieved to present freshly trimmed nails to you for painting. Your polish is a light blue colour, milky, and he assumes it'll be the one you use on him, but you decide to ruin his life, taking his hand into one of yours. You hold his fingers in a way that presents the nail as you brush cuticle oil around the edges of his nails with a small pen brush. You chatter as you do in your way, all sweet and gentle in mirror of your touch. 

He's proud of himself for keeping his cool. To have you touching him for so long, so kindly, to have your attention, it has him squirming with a mixture of pleasure and horror. He wants to be seen by you but he doesn't know if he likes what you're looking at. 

"You have really lovely hands," you say, using the tip of one of your nails to scrape stray wet polish off of his skin, "do you play piano?" 

"You can tell?" he asks. 

"Pianist's fingers," you say. "That's a thing, isn't it?" 

"I haven't played much since I was younger. I got distracted by other stuff." 

"Maths," you surmise. "And criminology?" 

Everything. He pushed away a want for human connection with books and education until it got too much. Even the wisest of honeybees will brave heavy rain for a beautiful flower, and that's sort of how he feels about you. He knows it's stupid, knows it's doomed, but he couldn't not try to speak to you. You're the prettiest girl he's ever seen, all your lip colours and shimmery eyeshadows, the chirpy way you talk, the earnestness of your please and thank yous. 

Your hands. The silver ring on your index finger dotted with tiny pink stones. Your bracelets. The smell of your perfume and your soft sweaters. 

"Done," you announce, an uncharacteristic hesitance to your tone. "Are they okay?" 

You've done a perfect job. "They're so neat. Thank you. I– I love it." 

Your eyes linger on his hands. "I love when guys wear nail polish. You're even handsomer now, it's crazy. I didn't know it was possible." 

Spencer should have more style for sure, but he asks you to dinner right then and there. 

You smile until the lashes kiss in the corners of your eyes and say yes. This new place opened just around the corner from your apartment, and you've been trying to drum up the courage to ask him all week. When Spencer hears that he almost passes out. 

[chamomiletealeaf]

hear me out on this one it might be vanilla but imagine soap or ghost or price or konig i don’t care who is on deployment and you finally get them on the phone and it gets dirty and nasty real quick

This idea is so yummy with Soap 😮‍💨

warnings: voice kink, Johnny being a slut, phone sex, masturbation, switch! Johnny

Johnny was on deployment and he missed you so much. He's been gone for a few months now and he finally got some down time to call you for more than a quick few seconds on a payphone. When he got back to base, he went straight to his room to call you, practically skipping to his room in the barracks.

He dials your number on his phone and lays down on his bed on his back, waiting to hear the ring stop and your voice replace it.

"Hey Johnny." You say lovingly after barely three rings and he smiles.

"Hey bonnie." He says back, smiling even bigger than you.

"You just get back?" You ask and he nods, but then remembers you can't see him.

"Yeah." He says with an exhausted sigh.

"Aw honey you must be so tired." You coo at him through the phone and he feels his stomach flip.

weird, he thinks to himself.

"Yeah. Glad I can finally talk to you though. Never too tired for you lass." He says with a smile.

"You coming home soon baby?" You ask in your sweetest, softest voice, and Johnny holds back a whine.

what the fuck? He says in his head, confused as to why your voice is making him so damn needy like a stray dog.

"Yeah girlie, two more weeks." He says, reaching down to adjust his belt around his pants that seemed to get tighter since he started talking to you.

"Mm ok." You pout. "Gonna have a nice, hot, home cooked meal waiting for you when you get back. That sound good honey?" You ask in that same soft and sweet tone you have him panting at.

Johnny bucks his hips unconsciously at the sound of your voice coddling him through the phone and a little whimper escapes his lips.

"Y-yeah that sounds amazing bonnie." He says and you furrow your eyebrows at the stutter in his voice.

"You ok hun'?" You ask, concerned at why his tone changed all of a sudden.

Johnny unbuckles his pants and slips a hand inside his pants, slowly stroking himself over his boxers, precum making a damp spot in them.

"Yeah I'm doin' just fine dolly, just- keep talkin' to me." He says trying not to sound like he's jerking himself off, and you buy it.

"Ok well, today I went to the grocery store and I saw the cutest little puppy, literally the sweetest boy I've ever seen. Such a good puppy." You say the last part in a high pitched 'puppy voice' and Johnny's eyes roll to the back of his head and his cock twitches in his hands, imagining you saying those words to him, about him.

"Yeah?" Johnny says in a whisper "How- How good of a boy was he?" He asks and you furrow your brows again for a second, then you catch on.

"Oh he was the best boy. So good for me." You say with a smirk and you hear Johnny try to muffle a whine.

"Johnny?" You say so softly that if he wasn't so focused on your voice he wouldn't have heard it.

"Yeah bonnie." He responds exasperated.

"Are you.. jerking off right now?" You giggle.

"N-no." He lies terribly.

"Hm.. well if you were, I'd tell you to stop stroking yourself through your pants and pull it out for me." You say with a smirk.

Johnny's end goes silent for a bit, only the sound of a belt buckle clacking as he pulls his throbbing, leaking cock out of his pants, gently fisting himself.

"What else would you tell me to do bonnie?" He asks, almost begs actually and you clench your thighs together at his desperation.

"Tell me how much you miss me sweetheart." You tell him, smiling as you bite your fingernail, trying to hide the smile in your voice.

"Fuck baby, miss you so fuckin' much. Wish it was you jerkin' me instead of my fist." He says through dog-like pants, and you move your hand between your thighs and under your sleep shorts that were practically soaked through. Good thing you didn't wear panties underneath them so you can easily slip your hand down to play with your clit.

"Yeah? Miss you too honey. Can't wait for you to fuck me again." You whine desperately this time.

Johnny picks up on the change of your voice and knows you're playing with yourself and he takes advantage of your vulnerability.

"Yeah that's right sweetheart, rub that little cunny for me. Not as good as my fingers are they hm?" He says as he bucks up into his hand.

"Mm mm." You respond and he laughs.

"Fuck need to bury my face in ya' girlie. Miss that sweet little pussy."

Hearing each other's moans cause you both to get closer and closer to the edge, Johnny's cock leaking all over his hand and your pussy dripping all over your shorts.

"Come on bonnie lemme hear ya' moan my name." He says, fisting his cock faster and faster.

"Fuck Johnny, gonna cum." You whimper in that high pitched, soft little voice he loves hearing from you.

"Do it. Cum for me baby." He says and you squeak out a moan of his name while you cum in your little shorts on your living room couch soaking them.

Johnny hears you say his name over and over while you make a mess of yourself and your couch, and when you moan out a "fuck me like a good boy Johnny" he cums so hard he shoots cum on his chest.

You both pant into your phone mics, coming down from your highs.

After a second Johnny speaks.

"I can't wait to come home to you bonnie." He says after he catches his breath.

"I can't wait for you to come home to me." You say back and you both smile.

"Two more weeks." He says.

"Two more weeks." You reply.

And after you two say your goodbyes, I love you's, and goodnights, Johnny makes a mental note to talk to Price first thing in the morning about possibly making it back home to you a few days earlier than planned.

[shixcherie]

His Favorite Problem | Choi Jongho ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

Day 26 : Sir Kink

↬ [ Synopsis ] : In the middle of the bar’s chaos, Jongho’s protective instincts kick in as he spots you. But instead of showing gratitude, you can’t resist stirring him up a little too much. Now, he’s set on teaching you a lesson, and you’re in for a long night of delicious discipline from your boyfriend.

☆Word Count : 3.08k ☆Genre : Smut, Non-idol Au, Boyfriend Au, porn with little to no plot. ☆Pairing : Boyfreind! Jongho x Bartender! Gf F.Reader

☆☆☆ WARNINGS : mdni!, established relationship, mentions of alchol, bars, customer causes drama, naive but also not so naive reader, she is just an innocent girlie ( :P ), a bit back and forth between her and Jongho, a lil riling up maybe, sir kink, pet names (babygirl, lil bunny), mild praise kink, overprotective bf Jongho, fingering (fem reciveing), mid choking kink, edging, Jongho turns a bit meanie at the end and disciplines you.

NOTE : Yes… I’m going to continue and complete Kinktober, even though we’re past the 31st. I really want to finish this challenge and not leave it incomplete, so I hope you all enjoy the story, ma chéries!

The bar buzzed with its usual nighttime energy, customers filling the cozy, dimly lit space with laughter, clinking glasses, and conversations. You were behind the bar skillfully pouring drinks, chatting with regulars, and catching up with them.

Somewhere in the corner, you knew Jongho was seated with his quiet, watchful presence making sure you were doing fine and no one is causing any trouble for you.

Ever since you’d taken this job, Jongho had made a habit of dropping by on his nights off. Though he covered it up saying it was to spend time with you, but you knew the real reason he was there to make sure you were safe. You’d reassured him countless times that you could handle an odd drunken comment or lingering glances of a few persuasive customers. But Jongho just didn’t trust your naive little self. Calling you naive was just to tease you, though your heart fluttered at the sincere concern that laced his words and actions.

Tonight was no different. He was sitting at his usual spot as he sipped from his glass, his gaze never straying far from you.

You tossed him a playful smile when you noticed him watching you, but he only nodded slightly, his eyes tracing the room as if mentally noting each customer’s behavior. Just then, your heart sank a little when you spotted a familiar face in the crowd. A customer who’d been bothering you for the past few weeks.

The man had been insistent, charming at first by dropping hints about wanting to get your number and asking if you’d like to “grab a drink” sometime after your shift. You’d tried to handle him politely, knowing that dealing with flirtatious customers was just part of the job. But he hadn’t taken the hint and had started showing up regularly, getting bolder each time. Tonight, he looked no different. He was wearing a flashy smile and exuding confidence as he made himself comfortable at the bar.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted, leaning over the counter. “Thought I’d find you here. Ready to give me that number yet ?”

You tensed, quickly glancing around and noticing Jongho’s gaze zeroing in on the interaction. Taking a breath, you put on a professional smile. “No, sorry. I’m here to serve drinks, not give out my number.”

“Oh, come on,” he persisted as his voice dropped to what he probably thought was a seductive whisper but sounded like an ugly seal screeching, to you. “No need to be so cold. I’ve been a good customer, haven’t I ? And I always leave a tip.” He laughed, glancing around as if expecting others to join in. To be honest, older men were never you type and this man was definitely in his late 40s and with his screeching voice and pressing attitude easily made into your list of “people to avoid” and probably Jongho’s “To kill” list.

You clenched your teeth, determined to keep things calm. “Look, I’m just not interested, okay ? You can enjoy your drink, but I’m not giving out my number. Please respect that.”

The smile slipped from his face, replaced by an irritated scowl. He slammed his hand on the counter, drawing the attention of a few nearby customers. “Scamming customers now, are you ? You don’t give out your number and you treat me like garbage? I’ve spent good money here. Think your manager will want to know how you treat loyal customers?”

The little drama caught the attention of your manager, who came running over, eyes flicking between you and the accusor. “What’s going on here ?”

“She’s been scamming me!” the old bastard spat, his voice loud enough for others to hear. “I’ve been paying extra, leaving good tips, and this is how I’mbeing treated ? This is disgraceful!”

Your cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment as other customers began to murmur, casting curious glances in your direction. You wanted to defend yourself, but before you could even gather your words, a firm yet calm voice cut through the tension.

“Is there a problem here ?”

Jongho’s presence was that of calm authority as he stepped between you and the man, his gaze cold and direct. The customer blinked at few times before straightening himself, seemingly taken aback by Jongho’s imposing figure. Your boyfriend wasn’t one to lose his temper easily, but when it came to protecting you, there was a fierceness in his eyes that spoke volumes. Fidgeting nervously with your hand, you stood still behind your boyfriend as your gaze zeroed in on the old dude.

The bastard matched Jongho’s height, suddenly losing his brashness. “Who are you ? Just another customer ? This is between me and her—”

“Actually,” Jongho interrupted, his tone steady and deadly calm, “it’s not between you and her. You were harassing her, and now you’re causing a scene in a place of business. I suggest you take your drink and leave.”

The man scoffed, returning to his earlier arrogant self. “She’s been treating customers poorly. I’m just letting management know how unprofessional she’s been.”

Jongho didn’t even blink. “And I’m letting you know you need to leave. Now.” his tone went an octave up as he emphasised on the Now.

A silence settled over the bar, and the old bastard’s bravado crumbled. He muttered something under his breath and backed away, Jongho’s gaze was locked in on him until he disappeared into the crowd. His eyes followed him until he was sure the man was gone. Turning to you, his expression softened for a moment before returning to that stern familiar look of seriously-concern or concerningly serious. Agh whatever the fuck it is.

“Are you okay ?” he asked quietly, but there was an edge beneath the gentle cornered question.

You nodded, still processing everything. “Yeah… Thank you. I just—I didn’t want to cause a scene.”

His gaze softened, but only a bit. “You wouldn’t have had to if you’d listened to me. How many times have I told you to call me over if someone makes you uncomfortable ?”

Your face flushed as you glanced down, embarrassed and a little defensive. “I thought I could handle it.”

Jongho shook his head, letting out a low, frustrated sigh while his hand gently carassed your hair. “You think I’m overprotective, don’t you ?”

You managed a small, guilty smile while you peaked up to met his eyes. “Maybe just a little.”

He chuckled, though the stern look in his eyes remained. “I’m taking you home. You’re done for tonight.”

“But my shift isn’t—”

“I’ll talk to your manager,” he said, already turning towards them. “They won’t mind. And we’ll discuss this when we get home.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the authority in his voice sending a shiver down your spine. You knew that “discuss” wasn’t just a casual term. He was determined to make a point, and you had a feeling it would involve some strong and firm words and maybe even a “lesson” to strengthen his words.

As you gathered your things and prepared to leave, you felt a strange mix of anticipation, excitement and nervousness. Jongho’s protectiveness might drive you a little crazy at times, but there was no denying that it also made you feel cherished.

And tonight, it seemed, he was intending on showing you just how much he cared.

The whole car ride was filled with back-and-forth arguments—him insisting you should leave this job so you wouldn’t have to deal with difficult clients and could stay safe, and you countering with “I can take care of myself” and that you didn’t always need to be looked after, which clearly dismissed him. Slowly, you could feel the air thickening as, intentionally or not, you countered every single point he tried to make about the job.

“I won’t always be around to fix your problems,” he said, sounding frustrated.

“And I don’t need you to. I can handle them myself,” you replied, crossing your arms.

“It’s not a safe place for you,” he insisted, gripping the wheel a little tighter.

“I’m perfectly capable of staying safe,” you shot back.

He let out a sigh. “Just quit that stupid job already.”

You met his gaze, stubborn as ever. “Nooooo!”

He rolled his eyes. “Stubborn as ever.”

You shrugged. “Takes one to know one.”

Jongho’s car stopped abbruptly outside your house, and he turned to you, his eyes sharp and unwavering. His clenched jaw made it clear he was not having it and was gonna combust any minute.

You tried giving him a reassuring smile as you turned towards him. “Jongho, quit worrying,” you teased gently. “I know I am your favorite problem to take care of but I am fully capable of handling myself.”

He met you in the eye as the corner of his lip went to a smirk, “A ‘favorite problem,’ huh ? You sure are babygirl.” His hands gently carassed you exposed thigh, rubbing the smooth skin as the mini dress you were wearing slid up a bit while you were busy arguing with him.

This is how it begins You thought as you gulped while you heart raced at the thought of whats about to come your way.

“Jongh-” You were soon cut off as his grip tightened around you thighs, a red tint creeping up your skin as a tiny yelp left your lips.

His voice was low, edged with warning .“You were calling me what again babygirl ?”

“S-Sir…Jongho sir. Sorry” You replied in a sudden polite tone, which was not yours a few minutes ago.

As you stammered your response, Jongho’s grip on your thigh tightened just a little more, his eyes glinting with something unreadable yet intense. Without another word, he shifted, one strong arm looping around your waist and tugging you toward him. The motion was quick, leaving you with barely a moment to react before you were guided into his lap, legs draping across him.

Your hands instinctively found his shoulders for balance as you tried to steady your breathing. His fingers pressed firmly against your lower back, pulling you even closer, and you could feel the warmth of his breath brushing your cheek.

Before you could process the straddling position you were in, his lips captured you with anger and hungry desire which you reciprocated with equal lust. You hands messily tangled with his hair while his large hands captured your ass, grounding you on his now hard length which very evidently poked against your thighs. His tongue licked you bottom lips, occassionally biting and earning a soft moan out of you. You lower half was busy grinding against his clothed hard legth while tugged his roots, urging him to keep going.

Ohh…if this is way he plan on teaching you a lesson, you would happily push his buttons, You thought as Jongho deepened the kiss, his tongue explored the deliciousness of your mouth while his his hips rolled beneath you, providing just the right amount you friction to satisfy the ache of your clothed dripping core.

The steamy kiss continued for a few more minutes as he guided you hips with more need, quickening your pace while drinking up all the pretty moans that left your lips. As you rubbed your core against him, you could feel the yourself just over the edge. You movement became needy as you broke the kiss and held him close while an intense release was ready to wash over you. Jongho smirked as he held you close while his hands mercilessly rocked your hips over his length.

“Jongho…ughhh…I am soo close” You whimpered as you nestled you head in the crook of his neck, you hot breath tingling his skin while he gently carassed your hair, “A little bit more baby” His voice soothed the release that was about the wash over you like a tidal wave when all of it abruptly stopped.

You were shocked and whimpered, deprived of an almost at the egde release when he meets your eyes, his hands off your hips, not grinding anymore as well, a devilish smirk danced on his lips.

“Jongho what the fu-” You whimpered as you hastily tried to pull his hands back to your hips. Only this time it did not work as he grabs your hands behind you while pulling you towards him, his hot breath fanned against your ears as he murmurs, “Told you honey, this is my lesson. I teach it how I want, Understood ?” He asked, a breathy low chuckle reached you. The reality hit you as recovered from the deprived release as you slightly nodded, meeting him in the eye.

“Words honey. Use your words” He demanded, tightening his grip around you hands, definite to leave finger marks.

“Yess Sir” you squeaked out.

“That’s like my little bunny” He replied, smiling but still having that authoritative look on his face which tells you he wasn’t done with you here. “Turn around for me, babygirl. Will you ?”

You obeyed, not wanting to be deprived of another release, especially as your body was now greedily craving one. You settled back on his lap, straddling him while your back rested against his chest. He worked on the zipper, and the dress smoothly slipped off your shoulders.

“You love it when I’m like this with you.” His mouth latched onto the skin of your neck as he covered it with kisses and bites, his large hands finding your breasts. He cupped them, kneading gently, while continuing his assault on your neck. His fingers pinched your nipples a little too hard, earning a yelp.

“Yes, Sir,” you managed, though words were getting harder to form as he grew more handsy, making you bite your bottom lip. Jolts of electricity coursed through your body as he alternated between pinching your nipples, circling them with his fingers, and then pinching again, a little harder. Your body trembled from the delicious pleasure his fingers alone could give, filling the car with soft, pretty moans.

Thankfully, no one was on the empty streets to witness the fun inside the BMW parked discreetly across the road. His tinted windows concealed you both from the world outside, while inside, your world was falling apart in his embrace.

Satisfied with playing with your breasts, his fingers slid down toward your aching core, leaving goosebumps wherever he touched. This wasn’t your first time, but it always felt like one—especially on nights like these when you riled him up a little too much. His fingers pinched your sensitive clit, sending a shudder through your body, before he rubbed at your wet opening. His other hand found your neck, fingers carefully wrapping around your throat as he whispered, “Looks like the lesson got a lot more intense, huh, babe?”

“Ahhh…Sir, I need… I need you right now. Please.” You begged, the release you were deprived of now paining you, and your aching core was proof. He kept the pace, gently rubbing your folds while his grip around your throat tightened, making your breath hitch. His finger slowly entered you, leaving you breathless all over again.

His thick fingers were a lot for your tiny opening, stretching you just enough to make you gasp, and a loud moan escaped your lips as he moved them deeper inside,while tears pricked in you eyes for how intense the whole experience was getting. His mouth was close to your ear, murmuring Look at you, falling apart so easily. Didn’t think you could be this desperate for me.” His voice was a mixture of mockery and heat, making you shiver as he continued, his grip on your throat holding you in place, exactly where he wanted, the pressure making each breath feel headier. Each movement of his fingers seemed to pull you further into an intense, heated haze that left you trembling.

Then, like icing on the cake, he added another thick finger, filling you completely as he increased his pace, each thrust measured and deliberate, each one pulling you closer to a tipping point while tears rolled off your cheeks at the intensity of the moment.Each of thrust precise and deliberate, leaving you even more breathless and whimpery with each passing second. “Next time, remember what happens when you test my patience.” His fingers moved in and out of you, building an overwhelming rhythm that left you breathless, the air thick with the sound of your soft, broken moans.

Your body couldn’t keep up with the overwhelming rhythm he’d set, a mess of broken moans filling the air as you struggled to hold back.Your teary eyes squeezed shut as your face turned toward him, nestling into the crook of his neck, your breaths growing deeper, more ragged. His grip held you steady as his pace intensified, pushing you closer and closer. The tension built to an exquisite peak, until your body finally gave in, trembling and unraveling completely around his fingers as you came undone in his embrace.

As the last tremors subsided, you felt his hold on you soften, his once-commanding grip now shifting into something more gentle, more comforting. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close against his chest as your breathing slowed, both of you basking in the calm that settled in the aftermath. His fingers gently traced along your back, a small but tender gesture that reminded you, after all this dominating play, that he was, after all, your sweet and hella protective boyfriend.

With a soft laugh, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “So,” he murmured, a teasing glint in his eyes, “think you’ve learned your lesson?” His tone was lighthearted, affectionate— a contrast to his earlier intensity.

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a warmth as you looked up at him. “Maybe,” you replied playfully, resting your head on his shoulder. “But I might need a few more reminders.”

He chuckled, his arms tightening around you as he let out a contented sigh. “Good thing,” he whispered, his voice full of warmth. “I’m not going anywhere, when I have so many problems to solve here.”

“Me being your favorite one” you chuckled and cringed at what you just said, while he laughed softly and held you. No one was moving or attempting to get inside the house.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

© ShixCherie.

[enchantedflameandflower]

Gavin Magary x reader part 3!

Summary: When you started working at the lumber mill, you couldn't help but instantly fall in lust with the strong, quiet insanely attractive younger brother. But you're determined to keep it professional, until one work trip suddenly changes it all.

Notes: Thank you to @kus-babygirl for encouraging me to post and with writing the extra descriptions of Karl’s gorgeous eyes for this chapter!

@shirley-girly @jynx15 @everchar-of-the-shire @scraftsku35 @deathlesun @billybutcherxyou

co-written with CheshireCatSmile

Warnings: none for this chapter but there will be smut, and tons of it!

Karl Urban Masterlist

part 2

Part 3

Gavin expertly turns the wheel into the spin, keeping his foot on the brake and he brings the truck to a hard stop sideways at the pull off for the trailhead.

“Fuck,” he exclaims under his breath, pulling up on the e-break and immediately turning to you. "Are you alright, sweetheart?" He slides his large hand over your shoulder, warm and firm, as if he has to physically check you’re still there, you’re still whole.

Your heart is racing and you take a deep breath. “Y-yes…” you finally manage. His hand rubs at your shoulder and your not sure he even realizes he’s doing it but it immediately calms you. “Yes I’m okay, thank you. Good thing you’re so good with the wheel. Are you okay?”

Gavin’s face is pale and ashen, the fear in his eyes more than evident, the stress clear in his expression. "Yeah,” he breathes, fully looking over you and squeezing your shoulder once more. “Yeah. I'm fine. Let's hope the axle is okay, too. At least we know my brakes are good." He lets out a huff as he finally sits back and takes his seat belt off. "I don't know what I would've done if you'd been injured," he says softly looking away but you can see the real concern mixed with some deeper emotion in his dark eyes before he turns.

You know something serious had happened last year and his brother and sister-in-law had almost been killed but you didn’t know many details beyond the rumors. You can’t imagine what that must’ve done to him. “Hey, I’m good, Gavin,” you lean forward to catch his gaze. “Promise.” You give him another soft smile and reach down to grab and squeeze his hand. “Do you need to check the axle before we start?”

"Yeah, I'd better, just to be on the safe side. You can unload a few things while I check if you don't mind. Leave the heavy stuff for me." He gives your shoulder another rub and gets out of the truck going around to the front.

“Of course.” You're surprised by how much the temperature has dropped when you get out and you grab your warm raincoat and bundle up before you start working, taking the things you’ll need out of the back of his truck and setting them aside.

His more playful mood seems to have waned now but you still can’t help enjoying watching him while he moves, checking for damage. You know how much all of his work means to him. And you don’t mind if his mood is heavier for awhile. You know what that’s like, and you’re happy to just be with him.

After he checks under the truck, he moves it to a better spot further off the road then he comes around to the rear, brushing his hands off and takes out his heavier, larger pack, putting it on and adjusting the weight. "As far as I can tell everything checks out." He looks down at you and smiles softly reaching out to brush some stray locks of hair back from your face. "I’m really glad you're okay."

You mean to tell him again that you’re perfectly good but you get completely lost in his eyes. There’s a pain there, something buried deep that you can’t help but feel in your own heart and your breath catches. And you can’t look away. From a distance, his eyes could be mistaken for brown, but up close, they’re really a mixture of deep ambers and greens, changing with which way the light is shining, the same as the colors of the deep forests around you.

Gavin holds your gaze, searching for a long moment then shakes his head the tiniest bit as though trying to order his thoughts, and sighs softly. "C'mon, trailblazer...we'd better get a move on," he finally relaxes again, back to his light teasing. "We should try to make the most of this light." He picks up a couple pouches and clips them to his pack, then adjusts your pack so the weight is distributed evenly. When his knuckles brush against your shoulders you have to physically hold back a pleased shiver. He doesn’t seem to notice to your relief, and he starts up the trail with you.

It’s a good hike. Not too hard but enough to get your blood pumping again and lots of fresh air. Your legs might be a little sore in the morning though, you think, after all the office work you’ve been doing. “Do we need many notes on the cut site, or more just doing a visual check?” you ask him.

"I think a little of both. A visual's always good for me but some of these people are more into the finer details when they're making an investment. I can get a feel for things to make a pitch but it would be nice to have your notes to back me up. Your attention to detail was one of the things that impressed Jack and me." He stops for a moment to rest and tighten a strap on his pack.

“Thank you,” you murmur and you know you’re blushing again. “That sounds like a good plan.” We have to hike a little further before we get to where the cut site will start and you pause to pull your notebook out of the pocket of your pack then immediately scribble a note guessing the distance from the road and the need for a path for the equipment. Gavin goes ahead a little and when you look up, he’s climbing a small hill in front of you and you can’t help but watch the way his jeans fit so perfectly on his swaggering hips…

He bends over to pick up a stray pine cone and inspect it more closely and you can't tear your eyes away from the picture made by his jeans stretching tightly over his perfect masculine butt and hips as he crouches then, sadly, stands again.

For a moment, you wonder how you will ever survive this whole week with just the two of you out here alone. You told yourself you wouldn’t get involved with anyone ever again, or at least not for a very long time, but out here in the forest everything about him seems accentuated wonderfully. Suddenly you realize he’s saying something and you’ve missed most of it. “Oh, hm what? Sorry…” Your tongue darts out to wet your dry lips.

Gavin chuckles softly. "Where'd you go sweetheart? You looked like you were a million miles away from here." He looks back up the trail. Turning to you again he says, "I was just asking if you have what you need? I'd like to get a little farther along then we can look for a place to camp for the night. "

You’re starting to think maybe all you need is him. “Oh yes, I’m all good.” And then you realize he called you sweetheart again. “I was just thinking how much I love being all the way out here. It’s beautiful.” You tuck your notebook away again.

"Sometimes with all the work and trying to get ahead...I forget to stop and take a look around. It's nice coming out here with you. Seeing it through your eyes it's all new and full of beauty and wonder again."

You’re sure your expression is glowing, you feel like you are, but neither of you says anything else. You carry on for a ways and then finally come to a nice flat spot with a small clearing but still sheltered by some of the taller trees. “This looks nice,” you say, setting down your pack with him. “Man, I really need to get in shape,” you groan a little good-naturedly.

He smiles, his charming dimple showing, and looks you up and down assessingly. "Well...you look to be in fine shape to me." Then he winks. Yes...definitely flirting.

You laugh softly. “Well, thank you, if you say so. Should we get the tent set up and a fire going? I feel like it might rain tonight.” Your stomach flutters wildly thinking about tonight, with him. You can’t even remember the last time someone even hugged you and a part of you just wants that feeling.

He looks up at the sky between the trees. "Yeah, I think you might be right about that. We'd better get set up before the storm rolls in farther." He lowers his pack to the ground and inspects the area for the best location then unrolls the tent. You start to gather up some wood for a fire and look up to see him efficiently setting up the tent. His sleeves are rolled up and you can see the muscles in his forearms and the way his brow is just a little furrowed in concentration.

You have to take a breath. You’ve seen him work before, of course, but it feels different now. What is it about a man’s forearms? You’re not sure but looking at them right now makes your mouth water. You force yourself to turn away though and start the fire so you don’t look useless. The crackling of the first twigs burning is like music.

It's merry crackle is a welcome sound as the sun begins to set and the woods get darker. You put your hands out to warm them then pull out a bag with a few cooking utensils. You can't help wanting to sneak another peek at him working but when you glance over your shoulder, you're met with those dark hazel eyes watching you. Caught, he gives you a lopsided grin and turns back to secure the tent.

The warmth he gives you from the inside feels just as good as the warmth from the fire on the outside. Yep, you’re done for.

He finishes up with the tent then and you spread out a stiff wool blanket to sit on by the fire. “So what’s for dinner? I’m starving.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

part 4

Really, really hope you enjoy! Next up, vulnerable confessions, campfires and snuggling in the cold with that gorgeous man! Let me know if you’d like a tag!

[lostsyren]

Hey girly, I was the one with the request about the Sofia/Rafe overhearing plot and I LOVE what you did with it! Could we pretty please get a third part where she does forgive him, they belong together :(

˙⋆✮ standards part three (final)

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{summary: after sofia overheard rafe’s cruel words, she takes a break from him. but rafe can’t bear the distance so he devises a plan to right his wrong…}

{a/n: thank you for the kind words about part one and two! i hope you like this conclusion, and sorry for taking so long to get to it!}

⭑.ᐟpart one here ⭑.ᐟpart two here ⭑.ᐟ

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“You’re not gonna go say hi to Sofia?” Topper questioned as him and Rafe walked over to their usual seat at the Pelican Club’s outdoor bar.

Sofia was wiping down counters, her gaze never crossing Rafe’s. He swallowed thickly, the familiar, painful lump pitting in his throat as he tried to catch her eyes.

It had been a week of no-contact. No phone calls. No texts. No conversation. No sex.

It was torture.

Rafe sniffed, trying to feign unaffectedness. “She’s busy.”

Topper’s brows cinched in confusion to Rafe’s strange countenance, “but you always go see her when she’s working? What happened?”

Rafe has been trying to keep his anger at bay, breathing in deeply through his nose, gripping at the tables edge with terse fingers– but Topper never did know when to quit it.

“Why don’t you just shut the fuck up and mind your business huh?” He spat, face etched in contempt.

Topper raised his hands in defence, his eyes widening at Rafe’s sudden foray into asperity. “Chill man, I was just asking, you usually ditch me and head straight for her.”

Rafe just rolled his eyes, anger fading to give way to a sinking despair. He was miserable.

…I’ll wait for you, yeah? My door is always open for you, come back soon…

That’s what he’d said to her last. And ever since then, all he had been doing was waiting. Hoping and praying that one day he’d open the door to see her standing there, ready to just embrace him again.

Topper shut up after that, now knowing better not to mention Sofia in front of Rafe.

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Rafe lay in bed alone. He often found himself waking up in the middle of the night, his arms reaching out instinctively to grasp at empty air and cold bedsheets. He missed her weight on him, her warmth seeping across him– Rafe missed her. More than he had anticipated. It was like he was suspended in a perpetual prison, his mind and heart stretched between rage and despair. Rage at himself for messing up the one pure thing in his life, and despair at how pathetic he was behaving.

He also was angry at Sofia.

How could she just leave him so easily? Be so unfeeling? Yes, he’d hurt her, but what she was doing now was hurting them both.

Lying in the shadowy bedroom, his long limbs restricted to his side of the bed (even if she wasn’t there he felt uncomfortable invading her space), Rafe stared up at the ceiling, thoughts once again straying to her.

He had to get her back– he didn’t know how much more of this shit he could take.

So as he lay in bed, he thought up a plan, drifting off into a fitful sleep with the machinations of an idea whirling about in his dreams.

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Sofia’s shift had finished. The bar was closed. The stars were out.

All she wanted to do was retreat to her car and drive home to her bed. She tried to ignore the bitter inkling that reminded her she could’ve been driven home in Rafe’s flashy BMW, taking her place in his king-sized bed with the Egyptian cotton sheets. But it wasn’t those inane luxuries that she missed the most. She missed coming home to a smile and a kiss. A sweet word, an even sweeter embrace. She missed Rafe. Despite everything he had said.

Sofia untied her apron with a heavy sigh.

“Hey Sof, think you could you help me out?” One of her coworkers yelled from across the empty restaurant floor.

She turned to face Amelia , eyebrows quirking at her request, “what’s wrong?” Sofia walked over to her, bag slung across her shoulder, car keys in hand– she was ready to leave.

“I was down by the beach earlier and I think I dropped my wallet there– it has everything in it and it’s so dark now. Could you help me look for it?”

“Amelia,” Sofia chastised, kissing her teeth.

Her colleague pouted her lips, “pleaaase Sof.”

“Have you checked the lost and found? Maybe someone picked it up and handed it in?” Sofia suggested, really wanting to just head home.

“I did, but there were no wallets.”

“Fine come on, but it’s probably been stolen by now.”

“It’s Figure 8,” Amelia drawled, “these kooks don’t need a lousy bunch of tips and a bus pass when they have fancy credit cards and designer cars.”

Sofia chuckled, recalling how Rafe took care of all their dining expenses with his swanky American Express® Gold Card. She linked arms with Amelia, the two of them making their way down the path to the beach.

“Let’s hope you’re right.”

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Sofia and Amelia reached the beach after a short walk. It was a warm night, the breeze and the tide whispering in Sofia’s ears like a rhythmic melody.

“Where about the beach were you?” She asked, squinting her vision, scouring the dark expanse.

Amelia hummed, “uhhh all over the place really– you go check down there and I’ll go look up here.”

Sofia rolled her eyes, “I’ll search for ten minutes and then I’m going home– I’ll drop you off, and you can replace your bus pass tomorrow ok?”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Amelia teased, “you’ll find it.” She winked, before scurrying off, leaving Sofia to trudge across the sand by herself.

She mounted up the dunes, the marram grass tickling her bare legs, when she spotted a warm light emanating across the shore.

Who was on the beach this late at night?

Approaching the flickering, orange glow, Sofia wrapped her arms around herself– she’d just take a peek, then head back to Amelia.

But then she noticed a figure, indecipherable in the indigo night. Sofia halted, goosebumps splaying the skin of her legs, despite the balmy air. And when the figure began to approach her, the goosebumps transformed to chills, unfurling within her.

Shit. She quickly spun around, ready to grab Amelia and leave, before the figure yelled out to her.

“Sofia! Wait.”

And that’s when fear subsided to irritation– easily recognising Rafe’s pleading voice.

Sofia huffed, hating him for sending her into a spiralling panic.

Spinning around to face him Sofia hardened her face into an expression of impassivity, “what do you want?”

Rafe had approached her now. She eyed him curiously, his white button down shirt considerably more formal than his usual attire.

“Just…hear me out ok?”

“I can’t– my friends waiting for me.”

“Girl with red hair and glasses?” Rafe probed.

Sofia’s brows furrowed. How did he know she was talking about Amelia, who very much was a bespectacled redhead.

“How…?” She began, before Rafe interrupted, looking almost bashful.

“Yeah…I kinda paid her to get you down here cause I knew you wouldn’t bother picking up my calls.”

Sofia’s face twisted in affrontation. She was more mad at Amelia than she was at Rafe, expecting this sneaky behaviour from him.

“You’re insufferable. I’m going home,” she scoffed, pivoting on her heel.

“Please don’t leave ok? Just…hear me out.” He suddenly entreated, darting around her so they were once again face to face.

Sofia’s visage flickered from ire to consideration, seeing the way his eyes widened in sincerity, body crouching down low to meet her gaze.

“Fine. I’m listening.”

Rafe’s face lit up in an ebullient glow. “Follow me…I’ve got a surprise.”

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Rafe led her to his set up, feeling exposed…vulnerable.

He’d set out a picnic blanket, interspersed with Sofia’s favourite things. Pizza from her favourite place on the Cut, champagne, mango, guava and tres leche cake from the bakery she’d showed him on one of their first proper dates.

Whenever he took her out it was easy. Relaxed. He’d wine and dine her at some glitzy establishment, or show her some new kook attraction on the Figure 8 (like the new ferris wheel or botanical gardens that just opened their gates). But this was the first time he’d planned a date– put effort into it. The anticipation of her reaction made him nauseous.

Rafe gauged her micro expressions. Her lips parting slightly, letting out a soft breath. Her rapid blinks, her raised brows, her hitching chest.

“Rafe…” she began.

“I thought we could talk? About…things.”

Sofia glanced up at him, lips downturned. She was upset? That was not what Rafe wanted.

“I know you’re mad, I know you’re upset with me…but just give me a chance to make it better yeah?”

Rafe tested the waters, reaching out to hold her hand, grip tentative and soft. His heart surged when she didn’t refute his gesture.

Sofia took a moment, but finally nodded, chewing her bottom lip wordlessly. Rafe’s face erupted into a bright smile, quickly ushering her down to take a seat on a cushion he’d laid out, sitting at a reasonable distance beside her.

Scanning her body language, she sat up straight, tense, terse. He poured her a glass of champagne.

“So how was work today?” He asked, trying to ease into conversation.

“Rafe please…just say what you want to say,” Sofia shook her head softly, still accepting the glass.

Rafe licked his lips, “I was going to wait until later but I’ll start with it…just so you know how I feel, since I’m useless at saying it.”

Sofia scoffed lightly at that, taking a swig of champagne.

He reached into his pocket pulling out a rectangular box, holding it out for Sofia to take.

His lidded eyes flicked up to meet her bemused gaze, starring at the box with a mixture of curiosity and distrust.

“What is this?” She asked, setting her glass down.

“Open it.” He simply instructed.

Her eyes narrowed but she complied.

On seeing the simple, silver key inside, Sofia’s confused expression persisted.

“A key?”

“I want you to move in with me.”

Rafe studied her face. The faint lines on her forehead, her teeth sunk on to the flesh of her bottom lip– a gesture she often did when stressed.

“Sof…?” He posed her name as a question.

Will you forgive me?

Would you look past my rough edges? My cruel words?

Will you love me again? Like before?

But his mouth didn’t reveal what his heart ached to say. His pleads came in the form of unwavering stares, of bated breath. He hoped Sofia could translate the language of his body. She usually could.

Sofia held the box, her hands shaking indiscernibly– but Rafe’s relentless perusal caught sight of it.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He cringed at the question. He was the one who was wrong. He was the one who upset her. But he couldn’t bare to admit that to himself.

“Really? You really want me to move in? I thought you wouldn’t live with a pogue– I thought you had standards?” Her words were sardonic, but still a salient sadness clung to them.

Rafe’s lips curled in disdain, repulsed at his own words being reiterated to himself. He didn’t really mean that. He was just saying things– stupid, fictitious things. Sofia transcended the binaries of Kildare. She was more than that– she was more than any of them put together.

With a fierce quickness, Rafe held her wrists, his palms clutching her with a gentle force, “that was all bullshit– I’ve been meaning to ask you to live with me. I had that key cut months ago, I was just too much of a pussy to follow through. I thought you’d think I was desperate. Or pathetic. Maybe both.”

Sofia’s face softened, her eyes resembling tide pools, her cheeks roseate and round. Rafe denied his urge to just pull her in so he could feel her again. Her bee-stung lips against his mouth, her supple skin tickling his jaw.

“Rafe, you don’t have to do this–“

“Sofia– I want to. I want you. So fucking badly.”

His eyes flickered between her own, communicating the truth in what he was saying.

“I’ve missed you Rafe,” she finally said, breaking their silence of just staring, cerulean eyes meeting honey.

He let out a little laugh, “I’ve missed you too. So so much.”

“Yes,” she gasped out in an inhale of breath, “yes I’ll move in with you,” her face broke into a lustrous smile.

Rafe didn’t have to hold himself back anymore, bridging the gap between them, basking in her kiss and touch and lips and breaths.

They broke apart, half-panting, fizzing into a fit of heady laughter that felt like the iridescent bubbles from the champagne.

Rafe licked his lips, inhaling a wobbling breath, forehead pressed against hers, fingers carding thought her curls. “If I had standards– which I don’t– you outshine all of them Sofia. You’re everything and more than I could ever imagine.”

He spoke candidly, words directly pumping from his heart, like blood being poured from his soul.

“You don’t have to imagine now. I’m here Rafe. thank you for all this, you make me feel like I’m…floating.” She smiled that wondrous smile of hers again.

Rafe tensed his jaw. “I’m sorry for saying those things. I hurt you. That wasn’t right.”

Sofia’s hands traversed this shoulders, cupping his face. “Yes. I was hurt. But you’ve made it better. You’ve fixed things.”

“I promise to never to hurt you again yeah?”

Sofia nodded against his forehead, the feathery pads of her fingers tracing swirling circles through his stubbled cheeks.

Rafe hooked her mouth into a kiss yet again, solidifying that promise– physicalising it. It was like he was doused in incandescence as he felt her smile against his lips. Those same lips that betrayed her, selling her out in front of his sycophantic, pseudo friends.

Rafe basked in her forgiveness.

Him and Sofia spent the night getting drunk on champagne, kissing each other with the taste of mango on their lips, as the ocean crashed against the shore, looking out at the horizon of their future…Sofia’s head laying on his shoulder and Rafe’s hands resting in the crook of her hip.

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ✦

[rosegasly]

wish on elevens. | pg10

⇢ summary: "Sure mon amour. Podium's a good look on you anyway," you quip, scrunching your nose and smiling in an attempt to ignore the way your heart stops and beats again, racing twice as quick and strong. ⇢ genre: fluff ⇢ pairing: pierre gasly x reader ⇢ a/n: celebratory post dutch gp podium fic coz how can i call myself a g10 girlie if i dont write today. stoked.

He's dripping, sweat and champagne coalescing into sticky sweet droplets that bloom on your tongue when you kiss him, hands against scruffy cheeks. "You did it amour! P3!!" 

The dark of his alpine hat sits low over brilliant blue eyes that gaze back at you, glistening with joy so infectious you wonder how everyone around you isn't utterly in love with Pierre Gasly too. 

"Chérie, we did it." He says and you shake your head fondly, eyes still locked with his as affection bubbles and spills over somewhere behind your ribs, heart jutting out with the love you have for this man and you are crying. Vision blurring as you throw your arms around him again, uncaring of how the champagne and sweat stain your front as you sob into his neck. 

"I am so so proud baby. you deserve this! you were so good, so brilliant-" it's hard to speak around the growing knot in your throat but you push through, "I love you so much! You drove incredibly. I was screaming by the end," you laugh as you squeeze him tighter, pull him closer, "My voice is shot. What a fucking day."

Strong arms wrap around your waist, broad shoulders hunching to nestle you against the hollow of his clavicle and you scratch your skin, cheeks pressing softly against his fireproofs as you laugh again, unadulterated delight spilling out of your pores and you don't even want to think how cheesy you both look. Swaying, giggling and wet in his side of the Alpine garage as you celebrate his podium. 

"I am so glad you made it today chérie," Pierre pulls back, catching your eyes again as he continues in a voice so soft one would be hard-pressed to say it was him screaming in the team radio less than thirty minutes ago, voice shrill and so far from his usual gravelly baritone. "You are my lucky charm. Je t'aime babygirl. Let's repeat today again, a hundred more times." He says, words sincere and accent thick as ringed fingers caress your cheek, idly wiping the stray tear and you tug him closer by the collar of his fireproof.

"Sure mon amour. Podium's a good look on you anyway," you quip, scrunching your nose and smiling in an attempt to ignore the way your heart stops and beats again, racing twice as quick and strong. 

The admission, subtle as it may be, isn't lost on you. You've known Pierre long enough now to realise how carefully he words his responses, never unwittingly promising more than he is willing to give and while with someone else you would chop the words to post podium adrenaline, with Pierre they ring true. 

Time suspends for a beat, you don't make any proclamations, don't directly promise anything back but the way you carefully caress his cheeks, the way Pierre lets his inhibitions go, surrendering and nuzzling your palm, the blue swimming in his gaze still holding yours, for once uncaring of the flashing cameras not ten feet away as he melts into your arms, boneless when you pull him in an embrace again–it's enough. 

Neither of you says more, but then you don't have to. Not when you already know you'll come back, time and again, fly to any corner of the world without a second's hesitation to have his back. Cheer him on from the sidelines as many times as he needs, and all the times he doesn't, but you would still be there anyway.

The words form on your tongue, but they don't come out, bitten back and cluttering behind your teeth as you try to shield your heart–to no avail. 

They don't have to escape to be heard, not when they ring so loud and evident between your breaths. 

Pierre Gasly owns your heart and for however long he wants you back, you'll let him keep it. 

[boyharder]

prompt: chaffnathy + vampirism <333

hiii girlie.. here's the scoop!

CHAFFNATHY + VAMPIRISM

most likely to be a vampire: haymitch. he sleeps through the day, is clearly miserable when awake, easily secretive, and also has an uncommon eye color.

of course, most of this can be summed up by alcohol (going off of anne rice vampire logic where they smoke and drink in the show) but once you look closer it becomes for suspicious.

chaff is totally clueless, he thinks he's married a wonderful human man, and a lot of his issues stem from his addiction/struggles with recovery and considerably aligning with autistic criteria when it comes to his necessities. closed windows until nighttime, never to wear revealing clothes, avoids certain foods in which discomfort him, opaque curtains.

and once they move in with each other, it all becomes a normal part of their lives, accommodating each other.

they usually prefer to stay inside; with chaff running errands for his clearly “agoraphobic” lover. eventually, strange things begin to happen within the house, such as food drying up/rotting with no blood within the raw meat, and certain strays in which once encircled their house disappearing.

chaff doesn't see this as overly abnormal until it actively affects him, and one morning he wakes up to the sight of two entry bites on his stump and neck, assuming it to at first be a mosquito. however, chaff soons finds himself catching his husband in the act; feeding on his blood with eyes wide and primal and mouth rimmed with blood. haymitch tries not to feed on humans if he can avoid it, but watching the blood of his lover slide pleasantly through his veins was a drawl like no other.

“holy shit.” chaff guffaws, watching the blood spill down his arm. his husband doesn't look quite human now, twisted into some sort of mythical predator in which has finally staked his claim. “guess i found the mosquito, huh? why wouldn't you tell me that you weren't human, baby? why not just ask me if you could feed this way instead of all those poor animals?” he wants to be upset, afraid, shocked, but he knows how to work a vampire. he's seen the films. and if his lover was hungry, he'd let him suck out all of his blood for panem's sake.

from then on they negotiate; donating blood, swapping between strays. it's not very appealing for chaff, but if it keeps the man he loves happy, then so be it.

[anachilles]

🥃☕️ young!bucky and young!gale from the firehouse!au moodboard.

-> assorted ‘growing up’ headcanons under the cut <-

John:

Has two sisters.

Was sort of at a weird crossroad between being a jock and a bit of a burnout in school. Played ice hockey, mainly. He likes baseball a lot and played as a kid but didn’t keep it up because his school team sucked.

He struggled to function as he “should” in mainstream education settings, from incessant restlessness, hyperactivity/attention problems, organisational issues, seeming inability to translate what educators could see as natural intelligence into test scores that reflected that.

It got to the point where he’d fallen firmly into the “wrong crowd”; was drinking more, cutting class more and more. He was naturally clever, got good enough grades but not stellar, just enough to keep teachers and his mom off his back. Looking back on it as an adult, it was obvious his depressive tendencies had always sort of been there.

His dad died before he ever really knew him; was in the military and was killed in action. His picture still hangs in their living room back home to this day. It resulted in a misplaced idolisation of him and how his mom/family spoke about him maybe went some way to clouding Bucky’s vision around the “glory” of serving, made it an easier option to turn to when he was desperate for a purpose and some way to elevate himself than it should’ve been.

His mom cried and begged him not to when he told her he was enlisting right out of school. Now she says the best day of her life was when he told her he was leaving, that he was coming home.

He’s still in the habit of wearing his watch inside his wrist. Has to catch himself and turn it around more often than he’d like to admit.

Gale:

Grew up an only child.

For as far back as he could remember, his father had had a drinking problem. Gambling too, he realised later, when he was old enough to comprehend what that even was. And when he drank, he often got verbally abusive.

When he was around eight his mom went out of state to take care of her mom who was seriously/terminally ill, but then just… didn’t come back. He realises now that was her opportunity to escape and tries not to hold it against her. Unlike his dad, he does check in with her every handful of months.

There’s layers to how it’s all affected him, but primarily it made him very hyper independent. Like he became aware from a young age that he wasn’t getting out of this situation without pulling himself up and doing it for himself. So he threw himself into academics; math and science especially.

Grew out his hair long and “girly” when he was a teenager as a way to silently/non-combatively piss off his dad. He kept it right through his undergrad and a little bit into his masters before cutting it up short again; was very pretty and kept accidentally getting hit on my queer women.

As hinted at in chapter four, when he and Rosie first met as college freshman, they had an ill-fated, whirlwind five week fling that culminated in the mutual realisation that they’d never work romantically but were suited to be really close friends.

Was never allowed an actual pet, but secretly fed stray cats that hung around the back alley near their house on the sly with whatever he could scrounge from their kitchen.

Finds life easiest to navigate as a series of routines and ideas with fairly rigid borders.

[goosewriting]

Why? Because.

summary: reader gets trapped with an injured Zeb in a cave, and they come clean about their feelings.

relationship: Zeb Orellios x GN reader

warnings: mention of injury, blood, age gap i guess?

word count: 3.6k

A/N: i loved zeb in rebels and lost my marbles when he appeared in the mandalorian. and statistically speaking i can’t be the only zeb girlie (gender neutral), right? so this one goes to all of you out there, wherever you may be <3

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

It has been some time since you joined the Ghost crew, and you’re happy to say that you get along with everyone (except maybe Chopper at times). They had kinda taken you in like they ended up letting Ezra stay, though you were no Jedi. So the running joke was that Kanan brought “strays” on board. But you did and still do try your best to pull your weight around. You’re extremely thankful they decided to let you stay and considered you skilled enough to keep around. 

Your homeworld had been brought to near extinction, similar to how Zeb’s planet got destroyed, so now you have no place to go back home to either. Hence why you got along with him from the start. He seemed gruff on the outside but you could see through it; that was the façade of a man who lived through pain and regret. But you know beneath it lies a rather charming personality and a caring friend. 

A friend you like a little bit too much perhaps. A friend you find yourself drawn to constantly, torn between pushing your feelings aside and letting them out into the world. 

That’s a problem for later though, because right now, you find yourself running for your life next to Zeb. 

The latest mission brought the team to a wild jungle on some desolate planet, and you and Zeb got separated from the group. With the Empire hot on your trails, no less, because why would you have a normal, relaxing day? That would be boring.

You trip over a root peeking out from the ground littered in leaves, but catch your step just in time to keep running. The vegetation is dense, and you can’t really see much ahead of you except for splotches in several shades of green. Your legs are carrying you as fast as they can, but you can feel their stamina draining rapidly as your lungs burn, begging for a break.

From somewhere above you, you can hear the unequivocal engine of a TIE fighter, and you instinctively duck. You call out to Zeb, who’s a couple of metres ahead of you.

“They’re getting closer!” you scream at him.

“Then run faster!” he retorts over his shoulder.

“Well that’s easy for you to say!” you tell him between your breaths. “Look at your legs compared to mine!”

Suddenly, Zeb disappears from your view, swallowed by a dense bush. You do hear him cry out in surprise though.

“Zeb!” you call for him, worried.

Without lowering your speed, you take the last couple of steps to reach the point where he was, pushing the leaves out of your way, when your foot suddenly lands on air instead of the ground. Imitating the Lasat’s earlier scream, you also fall, as the vegetation had hidden away the very abrupt stop the cliff came to, the edge ending at a nearly perfect 90 degree angle, which sent you tumbling downwards.

On the way down, you feel yourself hit the side of the hill with an “oomph!”, then continue rolling down, protectively holding your arms over your head however you can, given the speed you’re spinning at. 

When you finally make it to the ground, you hit a dead trunk with your back. For a second all air is knocked out of your lungs as you come to a sudden stop, and you need a second to recover your breath. Everything is still spinning, you hold your head, and all you can see are blurs of greens, yellows and browns.

After taking a moment to reorient yourself, you call out to Zeb. The only response you get is a pained groan from a little further away. You get to your feet, ignoring the pain that shoots up from your knee to your hip. The contents of your backpack got strewn around, so you go around hurriedly collecting everything before looking for Zeb. Following the sound of his grunts and heavy breaths, you find him leaning on a rock. You almost drop your pack when you notice the thick branch impaled in his side. He must have hit a tree on the way down.

You approach him quickly, kneeling down at his side.

“Hey, hey,” you say, waving your hand in front of his face. “Stay with me!”

“Ugh…” is all the response he can muster. 

You check your comm; it’s busted. 

“Where’s your comm, Zeb?” you ask. He paws at his leg with a groan. 

You rummage through his pockets and take out the device, which is all but flattened. Great.

“We have to find shelter somewhere,” you say, getting up to your feet. 

Taking a look around, you realise it all looks the same. The trees are so dense that you can’t even properly see the sky. Turning back to Zeb, you catch him just in time how he’s about to pull out the branch stuck in his abdomen. You fall back to your knees and swat away his hand.

“Leave it!” you order. “If you pull it out now you’ll bleed out.”

He growls, but doesn’t fight you. Taking in his state, you suddenly feel lost and small and helpless.

“Don’t you dare die on me, Zeb!” You try to sound threatening.

“‘Tis but a flesh wound,” he says with a chuckle that quickly turns into unpleasant sounding coughs.

Great, he's delusional. 

“Did you break anything?” you ask him, checking for injuries. “Can you move your arms, legs, fingers?”

He first moves his ankles around, then slightly lifts one leg. With the other one he inhales sharply as it is the one on the side where he got hit. 

“How about your hands?” you continue. 

You talk to him in an attempt to keep him conscious. Meanwhile you rummage through your backpack for a rope. Zeb tries moving his arms but with his right one he groans in pain.

“Think i’s broken,” he says through gritted teeth, then his face starts relaxing, his eyes about to close shut.

“Hey, no no no. Look at me,” you demand, waving your hand in front of his face again; no response. “Hey!” 

You slightly slap his cheeks, and his eyes snap open to shoot you a half-glare. Then you look down and see he’s losing blood, fast.

“Dank farrik, Zeb!” you curse, looking around again. Your gaze falls on the Lasat one last time before you run in the opposite direction you fell from, looking for some sort of shelter. Not far, you luckily find a cave.

Running back to him, you fall to your knees at his side once again.

“Wake up! I can’t carry you alone!” you demand, desperation starting to creep into your voice.

But he’s too weak to stand up, so you pass the rope you had under his armpits and back, throwing the ends over your shoulder, and pulling with all your might to drag him. He drifts in and out of consciousness but tries helping you with his legs and good arm.

It takes you what feels like an eternity and a full workout to drag him into the cave, and just in time. Of course, it has to start raining. You wonder how the water even gets down here when the trees seem to have built a solid roof over the whole place.

Once you have Zeb in the cave, you take a moment to shake some life back into your limbs. Don’t fail me now! you plead with your arms and legs, and you get to work. Using some wood you found on the way here you build a makeshift splint for his broken arm. Then you prepare some bandages, bacta patches and bacta gel. You’re glad that you weren’t carrying anything in glass vials in your backpack that could have broken; all supplies survived the fall.

You kneel at Zeb's side, whose forehead is now covered in a thin layer of sweat; he’s probably running a fever. You exhale slowly through your nose, trying to calm yourself for what you’re about to do.

“Zeb, I’m gonna take it out now, okay?” you warn him, pointing to the branch he got impaled with. “This is gonna hurt… I’m sorry.”

“Ugh… Just- just do it,” he replies with shallow breaths. 

“Okay,” you say more to yourself than him, and place your hands around the splintered branch. “One, two, three!”

As you pull out the piece of wood, Zeb clenches his teeth with a groan, and blood comes gurgling out of the wound. You’re quick to generously apply the bacta gel to disinfect the area, put a bacta patch on top and some gauze over it all to stop the bleeding. It takes a little bit of effort on both sides to get Zeb to lift his back enough so you can wrap the bandage around him, but it works. 

Now that the most critical part is taken care of, you inspect him further. He’s got a couple of scratches on his arms and face. You take a clean piece of gauze and step to the cave entrance to dampen it in the rain, then come back inside and start cleaning the dried blood and grime off him as best as you can. He tries swatting you away with his good arm a couple of times.

“‘S okay. Take care of yourself first,” he speaks through heavy breaths. But you insist.

Once you're sure you cleaned him up to the best of your abilities and minimised the risk of something getting infected given your precarious situation, only then do you repeat the process for yourself. You also got a couple scratches all over you, and you're sure your back and hip are gonna bruise because of that rock earlier. 

Once you're done cleaning yourself up, you sit back and heave a deep sigh. For a moment, the cave is silent save for Zeb’s laboured breathing and the patter of the rain. You take a moment to think about what the next best course of action is. You need water, food, and you have to find a way to contact the Ghost.

From your backpack you take out your busted comm. Zeb’s one got absolutely obliterated, but yours seems in better condition. 

“Hey, do you think that we could fix this and send some message to Hera at all?” you ask.

Zeb is struggling to keep his eyes open, trying to focus on the device you’re holding in front of him.

“Do- d’you know how to… rewire?”, he asks.

“Not really… but you can talk me through it?” you offer. 

It takes several attempts, but through broken sentences and you having to shake Zeb awake a couple of times, you actually do it. You manage to more or less recall your coordinates given your last known position before the fall, and send that plus the fact that Zeb is hurt. You couldn't fix it enough to know if it actually got through or if you received a response. But you hope and pray to the Force and every other deity out there that Hera and Kanan got the message and come to find you soon.

Now that that is taken care of, you go through your mental list again. Next up: water and food. 

You give your past self a pat on the back for packing so much stuff when everyone said the weight would just slow you down. You could really never know when you’d need all this. 

You find your emergency light; it's like a bag filled with gel that emits both light and warmth. You hit it in the right spot to activate it and place it next to Zeb, who’s starting to tremble slightly, you now notice. 

Your water canteen is a bit banged up but still usable, so you step to the cave entrance to collect some rainwater. While you're here you focus on any sounds of ships or blasters, but you only hear the jungle around you.

You take a couple of swigs from the bottle, then fill it back up. With a sigh, you go back into the cave and take out one last thing from your backpack: ration bars. Not the yummiest but enough to get out of a pinch.

You offer Zeb some water, which he accepts. After he’s done drinking, he leans his head back down with a groan. It must be uncomfortable. Unfortunately, you didn't bring any shock blankets or anything. In fact you don't even have a jacket because of the planet’s tropical weather. 

You look up at the cave’s roof again, ticking off the items from your mental list. Now that everything is taken care of, there’s only one thing to do: wait. And hope for the best. Your nose crinkles at the thought. Waiting is the worst part. 

Zeb’s shuffling as he moves around trying to find a comfortable position to lie in catches your attention. You grab your blaster and move in between him and the cave wall.

“Here,” you say softly and carefully lift his head to sit down, so he can use your lap as a pillow while you lean back onto the cave wall. You prop up your hand with the blaster on your other leg, aiming at the cave entrance. “You rest up now. I’ll wake you up if anything happens.”

He groans, trying to get comfortable, and then silence surrounds you two. 

You’re trying to keep watch but your eyes keep drifting back to the Lasat on your lap. His breathing is evening out, so you assume he’s trying to fall asleep. You take a moment to roam over his face, his meiloorun shaped head, his big ears, his beard. You notice the wrinkles between his brows, a testament to his almost constant scowl, and you have to gather every ounce of self control in your body not to smooth out the skin with your fingers. 

“I can feel you staring,” he remarked suddenly, startling you. He opens his eyes and looks up at you.

“Sorry…” you apologise with a sheepish smile. 

He holds your gaze for a second longer than you’d have deemed necessary, then closes his eyes again and turns his head slightly away from you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, softer this time.

“Huh? Like what?” you ask. 

“Like a sad, lovestruck Loth-pup.”

Heat rises up to your cheeks, and you turn your face away as well, but then realise that you don’t care anymore if he sees you. You knew that at some point you had developed a crush for the guy but you’ve been trying your hardest to push the feelings down, and evidently failed. It did occur to you that lately things seemed to have changed; but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. So you weren’t imagining it after all, the lingering looks and quick glances your way when he thought you weren’t looking.

And if he really decides to bring this up in a cave in who knows where, then so be it. You might as well have the conversation you’ve been procrastinating on right here and now, since he can’t really run away either. 

“That’s not how I would describe it,” you start. “But I can’t help it…”

“You can do better,” he says, still not looking at you. 

“Try me,” you retort. 

He hesitates for a second, considering if he should give in to this or not. For an instant you think that’s it, and are about to keep watch again, but then he speaks. 

“I’m old, and scarred,” he tries to convince you.

“You’ve lived through a lot of things, and yet you kept your kind soul,” you counter, ready to disarm any argument he gives you.

“I get angry easily.”

“You have a strong sense of justice.”

“I’m stubborn.”

“So am I,” you say with a chuckle. 

He sighs deeply, and finally turns to face you.

“Why? Why me?” he asks and you can tell he’s genuinely wondering.

“Do I need a reason?” you ask, slightly shrugging your shoulders. “When I’m with you, I feel safe, and understood.”

“Who knew the bar was so low,” he teases, and you playfully nudge his shoulder.

“I’m serious. You’re someone I know I can confide in, someone who can read the room and differentiate playtime from ‘time to be serious’. You get things done. You’re loyal. You know what you want and what you fight for,” you recount. Then with a smile and a poke to his cheek, you add, “And for all it’s worth, I do think you’re rather handsome.”

Zeb makes a sound between a snort and a mock-offended gasp, averting his eyes from yours. You could swear his ear just twitched as well. Is that his tell-tale sign for when he’s flustered? Cute.

He remains silent, looking back to you with a soft gaze that holds something else, maybe resignation, or a little bit of sadness. 

“But, you know, now that we’ve established how I feel, I do wonder about you,” you point out. “You don’t have to answer now, though. In fact, you don’t have to answer at all if you don’t want to–”

“That wouldn’t be fair, now would it?” he cuts you short. 

“Then, do you have anything you want to add?” you ask, hopeful.

He thinks about it for a moment, then gives you an apologetic look.

“Whatever it is I want to say, I don’t think I could properly put it into words right now,” he says, gesturing to himself. “Let’s continue this conversation when I’m… not on the possible brink of death?”

“Right,” you answer, only slightly disappointed, but you try not to show it. 

“And hey,” he calls for your attention, and you look back at him. “Thank you.”

“You would have done the same thing for me,” you smile back at him, thinking he means treating his wound.

“Not just for patching me up”, he remarks. “Also for… For your words. And honesty. I can’t deny it’s nice to have someone like you looking at me the way you do. Hopefully I can be half as eloquent as you.”

He then takes your hand with his good one, bringing it to his chest. Once again, you feel your face burn. Zeb Orellios is holding your hand. While his head rests on your lap no less. With that little spurt of courage you just got from his gesture, you lean down and place a gentle kiss on his forehead. He squeezes your hand lightly at that, sighs, and closes his eyes. 

You lean back up, resting your head on the hard cave wall behind you, but you don’t mind. You’re on cloud nine right now.

Just as you remind yourself that you’re supposed to be on watch, you hear some rustling from outside. Quickly you lift the blaster, pointing at the entrance. It sounds like someone is approaching. You aim, and–

“Found them!”

It’s Sabine.

You slump back onto the wall, lowering your weapon, letting go of the breath you were holding. 

“Are you guys okay?” she asks as she approaches you.

“I got away with just a couple bruises, but Zeb got essentially skewered, and I think his arm is broken,” you explain, turning to show her the wound on his abdomen and tell her how it happened, when you realise Zeb is still holding your hand. 

You stop mid-sentence, your eyes meeting Zeb’s, who’s looking at you with a cheeky smirk. That little–

“What happened? Are you okay?” Now it’s Ezra’s turn to step into the cave.

You let go of Zeb’s hand to carefully remove yourself from under him and stand up. You manage to get up but are a little wobbly on your legs, since you’ve been sitting for so long. Sabine quickly helps to support you and guides you outside.

Kanan is the last to get into the cave. With Ezra they try their best to support Zeb to walk but he’s still too weak to get up, so they decide to essentially fly him just outside of the cave by means of the Force, where the Phantom is parked. Zeb did not like that one bit.

– – – – –

Bonus: 

Once Zeb is in his bunk on the Ghost with fresh bacta patches and bandages, you give him one last once-over to check if he’s comfortable.

“Anything else you need?” you ask him, packing the remaining gauze and bacta you didn’t use into the first aid kit.

“I think a ‘get better kiss’ would help,” he says matter-of-factly. 

You jump a little, his comment having taken you off-guard.

“Well I’m no doctor, but let’s see what I can do,” you try saying as nonchalantly as possible, but your flustered cheeks betray you.

You gently hold his face as you kiss the bridge of his nose, right between his eyes.

“Uhm?!” comes a startled noise from Ezra who’s standing at the now open door. Oh right, for a second there you forgot they shared the room.

“Is this gonna be a thing from now on?” the boy asks, pointing between you and Zeb.

You don’t really know how to answer because you haven’t had the second part of your conversation yet, but the Lasat chuckles and folds his good arm under his head. 

“You better knock from now on,” is all he says and proceeds to close his eyes to nap.

“But it’s my room too?” Ezra looks at you for help, but you just shrug with an apologetic smile.

Walking past him, you go to your own bunk, trying to calm your pounding heart on the way.

[blueseachelle]

Hi.

Can you please write some Percy de rolo x reader one shot. With jealous reader? Maybe some smut?

Jealous? Me? Never. PART 1

Percy De Rolo x Jealous! Reader

Smut will be in PART 2 but, I like to build a foundation for jealous type situations so, this is a build up for the good stuff

It seems like the whole world is against you at this point.

Every time you tried to do something. Someone or something stood in your way. You were trying to figure out a way into a certain someone's heart yet, were stopped by observation.

As you sat in a tavern next to Pike. You noticed a number of things. Your eyes never strayed too far away from the silver haired gunslinger across from you. You saw how Vex leaned into him. You saw how he seemed to smirk and reflect the same energy back.

It made you sick. You thought nothing was going on between the two of them but, you guess you were wrong after all.

You're heart ached. You looked down into your mug. You got lost in your thoughts for a little bit until Pike nudged you gently,

"You okay, Girlie?"

You just look over to her and smiled softly,

"I'm good. I'm just gonna head outside for some air."

Pike watched with a concerned look as you stood up and made your way out of the bar. She looked around and saw that no one noticed her sudden exit. She stood on her bench and turned to hop down.

Just as she did this, Grog grabbed her up,

"Did you see that, Pike?! I beat Vax once again!"

Pike pushed out of his grasp slightly,

"Yeah. I saw that. You did great, Buddies. I'll be back in a second."

With that, she quickly followed the path you took out of the bar.

Percy saw this and realized that you weren't there. You never alone really so, this concerned him slightly. Vex put an arm over his shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts,

"Darling! Did you see that? Scanlan fell of his stool, long gone! Hahahaha."

Percy just nodded. He quickly got out of her grasp, much how Pike did the same with Grog. He cleared his throat quickly after.

"Excuse me, Vex'ahlia. I have to visit the men's room."

He then disappeared out the door. This went unnoticed to the rest of the drunk group.

~~~

You walked away from the tavern. Looking at the ground as you walked, kicking some pebbles as you went.

How could you be so blind? You should've knew that they were together before you fell for Percy. You were just blinded by love.

You tried so hard to make time for him and help him with his projects. You made sure to keep him safe in battle. You always were there to take care of him when he needed it. You guess you were always saw as a best friend. Nothing more.

You heard rushed footsteps from behind you. You didn't bother to turn around. You didn't care anymore.

Pike ran up to your side. She walked next to you as she caught her breath quickly. She then gave your cloak a slight tug, catching your attention. You looked over at her with saddened eyes. Pike just nodded. She understood your pain.

"It's okay to be jealous and hurt."

"Jealous? Me? Never."

Y/n responded with slightly sarcastic tone. Pike just shook her head,

"Even if he isn't there for you, I always will be. We'll get through this together, Girlie."

"I just wish he understood how much my heart hurts to see him with her. I was always there for him. Through everything. Before he even got into the group. I guess I never been more than a best friend. I'm stupid for thinking so."

"Y/n. You are not stupid. What's stupid is that Percy can't see that you love him but he sees Vex's advances. We did everything we could to get you with him. Maybe he'll realize soon. You never know."

Percy, who was approaching the two, heard the whole exchange. His eyes widened. You? Jealous? He would never guess that you loved him as much as you said to Pike. He did always see you as his best friend but, he saw so much more. He thought he had no chance because you never, well he didn't realize, acted like you wanted to be anything more. When Vex made it obvious, he thought he could get rid of these feelings he had for you.

Oh boy. He was so wrong.

He saw you give Pike a hug. You sat there on you knees as you hugged her. Pike patted your back.

"Everything will be okay. I promise."

You just nodded. Soon, the hug broke apart and Pike told you she had to head back and take care of Grog. You just nodded and said that you needed a couple more minutes before going back.

Pike nodded and ran back to the tavern. She didn't notice Percy as she ran by because he was hiding.

Once you were alone, Percy came out of hiding and made his way towards you. You just hung your head low and was lost in thought. You didn't notice Percy's entrance.

He gingerly set a hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him. You looked slightly surprised but, your sadness covered it up quickly.

"Why are you here? You should be with Vex'ahlia."

Percy shook his head,

"I came here because I was worried about you. You seem off tonight and I want to know what's wrong."

Rage pulsed through you. You looked at him and stepped back so his hand fell off your shoulder,

"You know what's wrong. Don't act like you weren't hiding and overhearing my conversation with Pike. Do I look stupid to you? Don't play me like a fucking fool."

Percy pursed his lips together. He was caught. He didn't want you to be anger at him but, here we are.

"I did hear it all. I just want to know why didn't make a move sooner. Why didn't you point blank ask me how I felt towards you?"

You clutched your fists and you growled slightly,

"You think it's so easy. I didn't want to lose you as even my friend if you rejected me. Plus, now I know you and Vex are something so, I can just forget about my feelings and go about my business. Do snog with her and leave me alone."

Percy took a step towards you. You anger was valid. He knew he fucked up but, he wants to make it up to you. He needed to reach out first. He slowly gripped your shoulders,

"It is easy. I'll do it so you can see."

You froze in confusion as he continued,

"Y/n. I have loved you for a very long time now. You have always been by my side and I appreciate it. You showed me so much of myself that I wouldn't have ever found without you. I thought YOU would reject me so, when Vex made it obvious of her feelings, I thought I could run away from them. Seeing you hurt like this, I can't run. I'm sorry for my stupidity. I love you. More than the world. You are my world."

You stood there with tears running down your cheeks. He slowly moved his hand and wiped your tears as they came. You leaned into his touch.

"I love you too, Percy."

Percy smiled and leaned in and kissed You. You both stayed in that position for some time. Kissing over and over again. The tears soon stopped to flow as the kissing stopped as well. Once the two of you separated, Percy held you close. He whispered sweet words to you.

You held him tightly, like he was gonna disappear in a seconds time. Percy looked down at you,

"Do you want to head back to the tavern now?"

You slowly nodded and you both walked hand in hand to the building. You were both going to tell the rest of the group of the new development. No matter what anyone said. No matter the repercussions of the relationship. You both didn't care. You loved each other and that's that.

[caliburn-the-sword]

more cress thoughts and reactions (if i wasn't lazy i would start numbering these)

WHAT is with this lunar guard and WHY would he randomly choose to help these guys. since he's a Named Character (but i already forgot) i'm demanding a pov chapter immediately. probably won't get one until we trust him tho rip

NO WAY SCARLET CAN'T DIE OMG - oh thank goodness she's been taken hostage. that's better because it means she has a chance

what is it with cinder and her tendency to pick up strays?? first thorne now the blondie

cinder got that medical rizz (got blondie to take his shirt to staunch blood)

wait how does blondie know that cinder is the lost princess?? did i miss something??? maybe it was something cress mentioned

"Thorne thought maybe it was best for her to practice (cutting bonds) on herself anyway" DAMN BRO COLD

i wonder if the programming making the sat invisible still applies now that it's crashed. if not we're about to have a big problem on our hands

"somehow she’d never worked the sensation of prickly facial hair into her fantasies. She would amend that after this." MISS GIRL WHAT???? that said i find the diction of 'amend that' there's just something so detached about it lmao

OMG THORNE LOST HIS VISION YES THIS IS MAKING ME NUTS

no i agree cress WHY would you give a newly blind man a knife

her hair is getting cut off <3 "It felt as though twenty pounds had been cut from her head" probably because it HAS girly. haircuts are literally magical. feel sad?? get a haircut

"It's not your fault" damn thorne i really appreciate how conscious he is of cinder's and now cress' self blaming problem even though he doesn't act like he's all compassionate. softie

grossed out by thorne kissing a 16 year old even if it was just her hand (someone play sixteen by ayesha erotica)

omg i thought the kids were talking about PRIZE MONEY for a BOUNTY and that we were about to see someone properly threatening appear, not just gummy worms fkshfsdkh. LOVE erland for indulging the children. he seems like a fun uncle type figure to have. i wonder how much those kids make him grieve for his daughter. OMG CINDER MENTION IT I NEED ERLAND'S REACTION

omg cress' descriptions of earth make me feel like i've been taking it for granted <3 i love her to death and i wish her all the happiness in the world

i LOVE thorne's no nonsense attitude, especially when it conflicts with cress' fantasies. yeah!! shake her!! wilderness survival king

tf??? i've never heard of a green sunset????? i'm assuming that this is a rural thing or i'm just gonna pin it down to random radioactive scifi reasons

thorne you know what OTHER than constellations would rule out australia?? THE SAND WOULD BE FUCKING RED. i would know because i did a 6 week cross country road trip across the desert from east to west and back again. i get that he's blind but surely cress would have noticed and thought to mention it (catch me looking for the southern cross constellation whenever i go to the northern hemisphere since it's the only one i can consistently recognise)

whenever cinder gets glamoured she always snaps out of it immediately. even kai, the few times it's happened to him. it's honestly VERY disturbing to read it from scarlet's perspective where she's completely unable to (also now i'm finding kai sus. does he have the implant against his knowledge?? he got out of it with pain but wolf literally got SHOT and stayed glamoured)

LANDED IN AFRICA OMG THEY'RE GONNA REUNITE WITH CINDER. I BET ERLAND HAS ALREADY HEARD NEWS ABOUT THE DROPPED SAT

cress' backstory is intriguing, ESPECIALLY because idk how she's alive. does experimenting really make her THAT worth keeping before her hacking skills came to light?? why does sybil want to keep shells alive in the first place?? she seems very down with eugenics

holding onto neurodivergent coded cress and defending her with my life. of course some traits overlap with her trauma and being isolated for so long

only just remembered this but i guess now my theory of cress not being fully lunar doesn't hold up now that i know her parents. but with what she's saying about her backstory, makes sense why she doesn't identify with lunars that much

maybe it was thorne that i decided was bi??? just by seeing this line about blackmailing a hot pilot if he were in her position??? now that i think about it he had a similar line about kai or something. anyway with thorne saying he would have blackmailed someone i reckon he's just putting on a facade so no one sees him as a softie. but it's still funny to just make characters queer. it's a coping mechanism

OMG NOW THAT THE SATELLITE HAS CRASHED THE LUNARS ARE EXPOSED. I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT THAT. but the spyware should ALSO be down unless specific feeds went directly to the palace

this read has been such a treat for me!! i mentioned this on a reblog of one of my first cress post, but for those of you who haven't seen it when i was like. 5. my library had this picture book of the biblically accurate grimms brothers rapunzel. BEAUTIFUL illustrations. i was a silly goofy little kid obsessed with morbidity and i LOVED the gory illustrations of the prince's eyes getting stabbed out by thorns and him wandering around the forest all bloody and blind. i tried to find it online but couldn't!! the closest thing to it was rapunzel by sarah gibb which isn't gloriously violent anyway. i want to see if i can hunt it down irl and let you guys know which one it is but i used to frequent three different local libraries + the school library of my primary school was basically my own playground so i can't remember where i used to read it ;-; but yeah all this is to say i'm obsessed with cress as a retelling of rapunzel by far as someone who has a long history and grew up with it <3

@eddisfargo @francforever @winterrhayle @winterpinetrees

[lskisms]

THE FEAR AND THE FIRE (OF THE END OF THE WORLD), J. MILLER

synopsis — or you have seen the end of the world once and you feel you’re going through it a second time.

genres &&. warnings — apocalypse, (minimal) romance, (potentially mutual) pining, (un)requited love &&. canon typical violence (gore, weapons, wounds, etc.), canon compliant, illness.

word count — 2.4k.

note from r — the last of us has had a hold on my heart since 2013. i have vivid memories of watching youtubers play it, of discovering one of my favorite video game voice actors of all time through it, of falling so deeply in love with joel miller (who was, at the time, old enough to be my father and still is, honestly). it was a game i thought about every so often, but still felt deeply impacted by and connected to, and when i heard that it was getting a television adaptation, i truly could not have been more excited.

i’m no longer the sixth grader i was when i discovered the last of us for the first time and i’ve changed so much in so many ways, but that initial devotion to the series still holds true in my heart. seeing the game that made me love storytelling get the love i feel it deserves on a much grander scale is a beautiful thing. i’ve been meaning to use this account to write fic that isn’t related to my main interests and what better way than to christen it with a tlou fic with the title taken from my favorite song by one of my favorite musicians (“wasteland, baby” by hozier, for those who don’t know).

honestly, i’m more of a pedro!joel girlie, but this can be read as either game or show joel. i tried to keep the descriptions very general and vague so that your favorite version of joel fits in just perfectly. enjoy to your heart’s content. reblogs are appreciated, comments encouraged. ask box is open if you feel you need to yell at me directly anonymously.

in the hours after the last real day of the world, everything went quiet. the soldiers had been bussed out, survivors having either been lucky enough to go to the emergency quarantine zones with the military or having been turned on by their own government, left dead or dying on street corners, on front lawns, in fields. there was crying, screaming in the streets, fires blazing and glass crashing out of frames, shattering on abandoned sidewalks.

but the world was silent to you as you sat comatose underneath your bedroom window, aching knees pulled tight against chest, arms cradling head, gun sitting askew on the floor. flames across the street cast burnt orange shadows across the floor, both comforting and petrifying. your roommate lay dead in the doorway to your room, her eyes cold and empty and forever staring intently, blood pooling and staining your carpet, the rug, the stray dirty clothes you’d told yourself you were going to pick up after you got back from classes but hadn’t, in the end. the glock 19 your father had insisted upon getting you for college, finally finding use only to be cast aside once more.

you’ve never quite remembered standing and throwing together a backpack stuffed as full as possible with clothes and food. or stepping out over the body of your roommate, the beginnings of light gray fungus creeping out of the wounds you’d caused to take her down. the halls and stairways of your apartment building littered with the bodies of people you’d asked for laundry detergent and tutoring and rides to work when it was too cold or rainy or you just didn’t feel like walking or catching the bus.

an entire life uprooted in one singular moment.

from the blood-soaked streets of an austonian suburb, fire lapping buildings and shattering glass, you’d eventually found a group of survivors on the outskirts, people who had managed to hide from or stave off military men. a dead person can’t be infected, someone had reasoned to you upon your protest, but we weren’t going down without a fight. and here we are.

the willingness to not only kill, but to openly admit to doing it without holding an ounce of shame had scared you. it made you wonder if you could trust them, if they were safe to be around, but then you had killed, too, in an effort to protect yourself. and it hadn’t been a nameless, faceless individual, someone following orders, no matter how immoral; it had been your best friend. in reality, you were the one who shouldn’t have been trusted, the one unsafe and unstable.

but they had trusted you anyway, some semblance of a found family. sneaking through texas as it slowly went silent, scouting for food in grocery stores not yet scavenged, finding nooks and crannies to camp out in at night. and you came to trust them and yourself the way they trusted you. they protected you, expected you to protect them in return, helped you feel steady in a world that was falling apart in a way that was wildly different from life-changing events that had come before.

they had helped you through the end of the world.

twenty years later, the composition of your group has changed quite a bit through death and family reunions and simply separating. by the time you made it to the boston quarantine zone years into the apocalypse, only a few of the original group members remained, including yourself.

life has a strange way of making time feel simultaneously fast and slow. with none of the amenities of your life previous, you’d felt that the world trudged on at a snail’s pace. in the early years, you had none of your old books, no journals, no hobbies that you had been able to pack up in your backpack when you walked out of one life and into the next. every waking moment, every shred of brain power was relegated to staying alive and nothing more.

but then, life couldn’t move fast enough for the simple fact that you didn’t want to live in this world anymore, either through the invention of a cure that would miraculously fix the world or what could only be the sweet release of death. it wasn’t that you wanted to die necessarily, but the idea of of living through the apocalypse, never knowing when you’d eat next or get murdered by a raider or, undeniably the worst of all, when (or if, though that has always been stupid at the very least) you’d get infected, stuck in your own body and unable to ask for the mercy of a bullet in the head.

boston had been good for you, still is. you’d arrived about five years ago, fresh off the road and an exhausting separation with a few of your group members you’d been with for a couple years. they’d decided to take off in favor of other settlements, tired of trekking fruitlessly towards a fedra qz that wasn’t guaranteed to still be standing. but it was there, teeming with so many lives, and after the obligatory infection check and a further interview, you and the remaining scraps of your group finally had a home. a permanent one, at least for the foreseeable future.

a few months following your arrival, joel miller rolled into town, tall and stocky and going gray at the temples and across his jaw. he was quiet but opinionated, hardworking but standoffish. the younger people in the qz went out of their way to avoid him, the older people too, because he was so unapproachable. your friend, tiy, who had joined your trekking group a few years prior, mentioned once that they liked him well enough, but “found him aloof and too stubborn.” nobody liked that he’d made it clear he wasn’t looking to make friends.

but you had been intrigued by joel’s stiffness or maybe it had been that he reminded you of yourself in those early days when you’d found it difficult to connect with people. sure, it had been years since then and you’d adjusted as well as you could, but there was still a learning curve to find the right balance of trusting but skeptical, getting close without investing too much, what with death waiting around every corner.

so you’d made it a point of trying to get under his skin, at least a little. you trailed alongside him as he walked laps around town, insisted on hanging out in his apartment when you were bored and couldn’t stand the silence of your own lodging, even followed him and tess when they slipped outside the fence to go scavenge for better supplies than fedra could (or would) offer.

of course he’d been resistant at first, but tess found it funny. she liked having you around; a breath of fresh air, she called you, someone she could talk to and actually expect responses from. in those early days, she said that joel was a brick wall and he’d never truly given it up. he might let you around more often, but to anticipate anything more than a glance or a glare was asking too much. it had all been said in jest, lighthearted in tone but there was still a truth to it.

and almost five years into your weird friendship with joel miller, he really hasn’t ever given it up. it’s doesn’t feel like the cold shoulder it had at first, but he’s never stopped fixing you to the spot with those icy stares and keeping his responses clipped. it’s grown on you a lot over the time you’ve known him because he doesn’t sugarcoat his words, never beats around the bush. you can always trust him to tell it like it is, even if it hurts your feelings.

which is why you don’t say anything about the thoughts about him that have been popping up unannounced as you lay in bed at night and mourn a life that has been out of reach for twenty years. this whole thing started when you were fresh into your twenties, college and parties and looking for love to get your parents off your back about when they were going to have grandchildren in their future. when the world had ended, you swore off anything more than tentative friendship because what use was a best friend or a lover when you never knew what could happen.

but then you’d gotten older and older and suddenly you were closing in on an age that had seemed so out of reach in that carefree, college student life of yours. and you’d started to realize that you’d missed out on so much. you began to grieve the loss of romance and happiness and comfort, but without an end result of consolation, you couldn’t write the elegy you wanted.

one day a few months ago, you’d been walking with joel at dusk, the sun casting the sky in that burnt orange hue and the complementary pinks. you were doing all the talking and joel wasn’t offering much in the way of response, but it didn’t matter. and then when you’d broken past the city into the more remote parts of boston, the two of you had come to a stop, admiring the sunset in silence. and you’d looked over at your companion and god, the sight of his profile against that pink velveteen and orange creamsicle sky, he looked like the most beautiful person you’d ever seen.

and everything had changed for you in that moment. in recent weeks, as you’ve lain in bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to come, you’ve been waylaid by thoughts about what it could be like if you let it happen. if you and joel let it happen.

when you look at him now, you see possibilities, a chance to not spend the rest of your life completely alone, isolated from human touch. someone to share your bed at night, to wake up to in the morning, kissed by dawn. if you close your eyes, it feels warm, you can feel that dawn sun on your skin, joel’s arm draped haphazardly over your waist, his breath stirring the wispy hairs at the nape of your neck. it’s a weird sort of comfort to have as you close your eyes at night, willing yourself to succumb to rest.

but at the same time, it feels wholly terrifying, dauntless, completely impossible. because truthfully, after so long without a connection that extends past that surface level acquaintanceship, anything deeper feels crushing. it is a weight that rests upon your shoulders like the rock upon sisyphus’s, something you are bound to bore for the rest of your life and eternally thereafter.

it feels like a second coming, the second apocalypse. when you ponder the idea for longer than a few seconds, it feels like you’re going through the end of the world all over again and you sit there, paralyzed. when you were younger, romance was easy to think about, to fantasize about; you spent many a night slumped in bed, stuck between drunk and sleep, thinking about the boy you’d been iming for the last three weeks. then, it had made you giddy, reduced to giggles and blushing as your friend yelled responses from the kitchen.

now, though, your heart stops, your mind stutters, you feel nervous and excited all at the same time. it’s like being on the precipice of something and waiting for the tip over the edge, to plummet head first into the darkness, anticipation and fear mixing into something wholly indistinguishable. you look at joel and you fantasize about flashes of a domestic life. you stand in the kitchen together and you think about resting your cheek against the broad expanse of his back, that welcoming place right between his shoulder blades. your knees brush as you sit on the couch and you freeze like a deer caught in headlights.

you want it and reject it all in the same breath, fingernails biting into the flesh of your palm as you will the ideas and the fantasies away. he, in all his gruff salt and pepper glory, always looks at you in these slivers of time together, the worry lines deep between his eyebrows, his way of asking whether you’re alright. and you look back and shake your head and offer a smile because you can’t bring yourself to tell the truth, the thoughts that plague your late night reveries, brought on by the silence and the darkness coalescing. you can’t do that to him or to yourself because you’ve known joel for too long to ever think it’s something that could ever happen.

but at two in the morning as you lay sick in bed, weeks after your realization, joel sleeps on the ratty couch in your living room, just feet away. you are hyper aware of the fact that on the other side of the wall, he slumbers after having insisted earlier in the day that he stay with you for at least the night so that if you needed help, you had someone there with you. it had surprised you then, but with the silence and the knowledge of him sleeping in your apartment, it starts to mean something more.

you’ve come to learn that joel shows his appreciation in nontraditional ways, methods that aren’t as confrontational and obvious. he’ll walk you home at night, straight to your door, even though he complains about his knees aching afterwards. he’ll ask, rather gruffly, if you’ve eaten. he chiefly looks out for himself, but he makes sure he takes the highest paying jobs and what he doesn’t need, he passes on to you in return for you checking the radio when he’s away.

and you realize that this is just a new iteration of that, the fact that he sleeps in your crumbling apartment while you’re ill with the flu just so you aren’t alone. maybe it’s a remnant of that instinct he had as a father or maybe it speaks to something more, an evolution in your relationship that isn’t as unrequited as you so thought. it fills your heart with a warmth unlike any you’ve felt in a long time and it makes you feel human again, capable and deserving of that love that you haven’t let yourself approach in so many years.

you’ll let yourself hope, at least for now, in the heat of your illness. it feels like the end of the world, the idea of it all, but it feels less daunting when it’s joel you’re thinking about.

(c) lskisms, 2023. do not repost, translate, or otherwise plagiarize my work. the only official versions of my work are available on tumblr and ao3 under the name lskisms.

[pwnyta]

Some old messy Poke doodles. Red, Marcellas princesses, and Sickles boys. (and some other asshole)

This was from when I was struggling to find Kanto Ratatta in USUM... I had the rest of the gang... it took forever for one Kanto Ratatta....

More under the cut-

Dittos struggle with Red....

Havent drawn Missingno in 3000 years.

LEE WINS

Team Red in suits!

Marcellas babygirl. (a Wigglytuff man thats bigger than her)

Marcella has absconded with this couple!

Salazzle aggression against men could be worse....

The gang as a whole (with maybe Doc as an exception) are dangerous to deal with... but I think Father, Parallax, Permafrost, Rivers, Crow, Tsaritsa, and Glace are the true menaces.

Parallax has a weakness tho. How embarrassing for him.

Parallax and Decibel were friends when they were kids. Parallax having been an outcast for his dark typing and pissy attitude and Decibel due to being overly sensitive cuz thats just how Whismur be (and how loud they can get). So Parallax took it upon himself to have ONE WHOLE FRIEND and defended him.

After an accident that killed his family Decibel got shuffled into various foster homes where he had similar problems fitting in. Nothing worst to deal with than a traumatized Whismur/Loured and he eventually ended up on the streets.

After Decibel disappeared Parallax got worse. No one told him what happened and eventually he just figured Decibel was gone forever and made this everyone elses problem. He left home at an early age to due to his parents not wanting to have to deal with him and him not wanting to deal with anyone.

I chose for Decibels dad and brother to be the Meowtic line because Whismur and Espurr have the same ears and matching eeerrr names...

Catching strays with the Meow twins. Theyve done nothing wrong in their lives.

But eventually they found each other.

Wool found out the hard way not to kind of imply he knows too much about Parallax and make something that might sound like a threat to someone precious.

Everything is fine now... except Parallax is still a menace to everyone with few exception... (Besides Decibel hes also kind of fond of Velveteen and Jitter. They all like very pretty things together.)

I was working on (completely fucking needless) backstories for the Phi squad... I didnt get far. Velveteens father was a hardass who wanted to to be a fighter but shes more of a typical girly-girl (shes like the opposite of Marshall)

Astrolabes mother never wanted to evolve because she was scared of the amount of knowledge she'd get... but once she had Eliza she was too curious to see what would be in her daughters future and chose to evolve, but the amount of knowledge did in fact fuck her up and now shes completely catatonic and her husband takes care of her. And while Elizas father wasnt ever cruel to her he just wasnt father material. Eliza has developed a huge fear of her final evolution and has embedded an everstone under her skin to keep it from ever happening.

...I'll hammer out the details of others later...

Every one in the Kappa Division has a chaotic relationship.

Rivers has a chaotic relationship with basically everyone tho so... Spinner never had a chance. Wool gets into a lot of trouble because he kinda has a thing about being bullied...

Usually its by strong women but Rivers has a way about him... Perma is the ideal tho.

Anisos is the only person who can defeat Rivers because he just doesnt understand when hes being hit on.

Mittens and Doc are good friends. Baby versions of each other would stress the other out.

[spinebuster]

why does my dearest mjf mutual keep catching strays from elite girlies. she doesn't even fw punk