#hurt real bad. the rest of my body hurts too (like my right knee gets it really bad even though i've never injured it??) but my thumbs are

[gentlethorns]

sigh. the weather is absolutely kicking my ass AND i am vitamin d deficient again so i am EXHAUSTED. getting my 2k words in is gonna be a bitch

[bloodibambiidoll]

omg omg i need weird!reader and rafe walking around the woods and reader getting horny so rafe fucks her real good kdjwoqywlsbqks i cant

A million times yes. This is so them I’m obsessed. Thank you for this idea nonnie! Fucking outside, choking, rough unprotected sex, bondage, lil bit of breeding kink, spanking(with a belt), and a lil bit of fluff at the end, as a treat. A lil over 2k words. 18+MDNI!!

It was an average Saturday afternoon for you and Rafe. You drug him out to some random ass spot in the woods for one of your impromptu photo shoots and also “to look for cool rocks” in your own words. Rafe used to act semi annoyed that you turned him into a trained Instagram boyfriend but at this point he’s happy to do it. He loves watching you get dressed in your pretty little outfits and how you always have a vision down to the scenery. He adores your creativity.

After he had snapped probably over a hundred photos of you the two of you slowly made your way back to the car. You weren’t in any hurry. It was a beautiful day as the sun started to set into dusk, the glowing golden light shining through the branches of the trees as a perfect temperature breeze blew through your hair. You look at your boyfriend with heart eyes as he treks through the crunchy foliage with his hand in yours. His white tee is taunt around his shoulders and it’s just short enough that everytime he lifts his arms just right it reveals a sliver of his waist. The dark washed jeans he’s wearing are hugging his ass just right and there was just something about him in a SnapBack that made you feel especially feral. It didn’t hurt that he did all of this just for you, who could blame you if you wanted him to fuck you into the dirty forest floor.

“Heeeeyyy, Raafeee.” You call out to him in a sing song tone that causes him to let out a sigh because you only use that tone when you want something or you’re about to ask him some outlandish shit.

“What is it, princess?” His steps come to a halt and he turns his large frame towards you as he gives you a skeptical look.

“Do you wanna fuck?” You look up at him with a devilish smirk that completely contradicts how much of an angel you look like right now. The sun is shining through the trees down onto you like a spotlight in that pretty little white dress and sometimes he truly can’t believe you’re real.

“Right now?” Rafe chuckles as he returns your smirk with one of his own.

“Yeah, right fuckin’ now, baby. I want you to fuck me into the dirt.” Your voice is saccharine as you close the distance between you and lace your fingers in the soft cotton material of his shirt.

“God, I fuckin’ love you, you know that?” The corner of Rafe’s lips quirk into a smirk and his hands snake around you to grab onto your ass through the thin material of your dress.

“Yeah? You’re pretty alright too, I guess.” You giggle and lean towards him so your bodies are flush against each other as you look up at him through your lashes.

“Good. Because I’m about to fuck you into the ground like a dirty little whore.” Rafe starts to walk you until your back is pressed against a nearby tree before wrapping his hand around your throat and using his grip to connect your lips in a messy, wet kiss. Rafe grabs onto your hips and flips you so you're facing the tree. He grips onto your wrists so he can guide your hands to rest against the rough bark as his knee pushes your legs open at the same time. His palms run down your arms to your lower back where he pushes until you’re arched enough for his liking.

“Oh, look at you. You look so pretty in this dress baby. Like a fuckin’ Angel or some shit.” He runs his hands over your asscheeks before grabbing onto them roughly squeezing and jiggling your plush skin. “Too bad I’m gonna get you all dirty…”

He roughly pushes your dress up before cracking his hands down on both sides of your ass.

“Oh fuuuck.” You whine and moan as he spanks you again and again.

“Get this shit outta my fuckin’ way.” His fingers loop through the holes in your white fishnets before tearing them at the crotch and not stopping until your entire ass was exposed to him. He groans at the sight before him. The tights are ripped so they’re practically framing your ass like a piece of fucking art. You’re so wet the inside of your thighs are glistening and that tiny white thong was practically being swallowed by your creamy pussy.

“Goddamn, my perfect fuckin’ slut. So wet for me and I haven’t even touched your desperate little cunt yet.” You hear the sound of his belt buckle clanking and your pussy clenches in anticipation at what’s to come.

“You gonna spank me with your belt daddy?” Rafe can hear the smirk in your voice as you wiggle your ass and arch your back further. He swears if he had a ring he might propose to you right now.

“Yeah. You’re getting ten. Count.” You hear the whoos of the expensive leather gliding through the air before it lands a harsh smack on your ass.

“Oh fuck! One.” He glides the smooth leather across your skin before giving you another, harsher smack. “Two!”

“Now, say ‘thank you daddy’.” Two more blows come down on either side of your ass and it has you jolting forward causing the rugged bark of the tree to dig into your soft palms.

“Three. Four! Thank you daddy!” Five, six, and seven are the hardest yet but you count them all, thanking him after each one.

“So good for me, princess. Look so fuckin’ sexy right now. Two more. Count em’.” Rafe slides the belt between your legs, bringing it up to smack against your wet, barely clothed cunt.

“Fuck - oh my god - Nine.” He hits your pussy again and you feel like your legs are going to buckle from the mix of pain and pleasure your boyfriend is dealing you. “Ten!”

“Good fuckin’ girl, think you earned a reward, huh?” Rafe pushes your panties to the side and shoves two fingers knuckle deep inside you all in one motion. You don’t even have time to think before he’s thrusting them in and out of you at a brutal pace. “Gimme one, cum all over my fingers and then I’ll pound this tight little pussy till you cry.”

Rafe curves his fingers and pushes his thumb against your clit and that’s all it takes to have you gushing around his thick digits. “Yeah, that’s fuckin’ it, fuckin’ cum for me.”

He doesn’t stop until he feels your walls stop pulsing around him and your knees start to buckle. He pulls your back against his front and shoves his slick covered fingers past your lips. You take them in, greedily sucking your own taste from his skin.

“Please fuck me.” You whine and push your ass back against his clothed cock. He pulls his fingers from your mouth so he can push the straps of your dress down causing it to pool around your feet. You’re bare before him aside from what’s left of your tights and the black platform boots on your feet.

“Get on your knees. Hands behind your back.” You oblige him, lowering yourself down onto the fallen leaves and dirt below you. Rafe kneels down behind you with his belt in hand and wraps it around your wrists so you’re bound before him. “My perfect little toy. My pretty little doll tied up all pretty for me.”

He grabs onto one of your tits roughly pinching your nipple between two of his fingers while the other grips onto your jaw. His hard cock presses against your ass and god you want him so bad. He presses wet, open mouthed kisses on the column of your throat before licking a stripe along it.

“Tell me. Tell me you’re my pretty little toy to use.” The hand not on your jaw starts to make work of his button and zipper, pulling his thick cock from his pants. He thrusts forward so it slides perfectly between your thighs, his hard shaft rubbing perfectly between your pussy lips.

“I’m your toy, daddy. Just a hole for you. Please fuck me.” You whine and wiggle your hips, rubbing your messy cunt on his cock, desperate for any friction.

“I love it when you’re desperate and pathetic.” You can hear the smirk in Rafe’s voice as his large hand splays across your upper back and pushes you down until your cheek is against the ground and your ass is in the air. “Gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

He lines himself up with your entrance and slams into you to the hilt. He immediately finds your sweet spot as he plunges his cock deep inside of you at a brutal pace. He grips onto the belt restraining your hands, using it to pull you back harder onto his cock with each thrust.

“Yeah daddy, fucking use me.” Rafe practically growls at your words as his free hand comes down to press your cheek further into the mud. It's so messy and primal. The way he’s fucking you like a bitch in heat while the ground below you dirties your skin and your milk white tights. Your expensive calf high boots are surely covered as well but you can’t bring yourself to care when this just might be the hottest sex you’ve ever had. Rafe uses his grip on the belt to pull you up so your back is flush against him, forcing him even deeper than ever as he continues to impale you with his thick cock.

“You’re so fuckin’ nasty, I fuckin’ love you.” Rafe grips onto your throat and it has your pussy pulsing around him as you cum undone on his dick. “Fuck, that’s right, cum on my cock, my perfect little whore.”

“Fuck, I love you daddy, I love you, I love you.” You’re babbling, drunk off his cock as drool starts to drip down your chin and onto Rafe’s digits. “Want your cum. Fuck me full, want it so bad.”

“Oh fuuuuck. Yeah - fuck yeah baby, gonna breed this cunt, don’t worry. Daddy’s gonna give you his cum.” You feel his cock slip from inside you and before you can question what he’s doing he’s unlooping your hands and flipping you onto your back. His dick slides back into you with ease, you lock your legs around his hips, using your boot covered feet to push him even deeper. His hands come down on either side of your head as he resumes fucking you vigorously.

“Takin’ me so well, princess, my dirty fuckin’ girl.” Rafe leans down so he can connect your lips in a filthy kiss as his plush lips practically swallow you whole. “Oh - fuck - I’m gonna fuckin’ cum.”

His hips slam against yours over and over before he tenses above you as he paints your walls. The feeling sends you over the edge with him as you milk his cock for all it’s worth.

“Goddamn.” Rafe chuckles as he pushes himself up so he can look down at you. Your hair is a disaster of leaves and tangles, there’s dirt smudged on your cheeks and across your chest but god do you still look like an angel. “You’re perfect, ya know that?”

“Mmm, you’re pretty perfect too.” You giggle and pull him down into a much more tender kiss. He obliges you for a few moments before pulling away.

“Aight, let’s get off this dirty ass ground and get you home, yeah? Get you in a bath and shit.” He pushes himself up and tucks his cock back into his pants before leaning down to hook his hands under your arms and man handle you to your feet. He grabs your dress from the ground and pulls it over your head before trying to get a few of the leaves out of your hair.

“Yeah, that sounds perfect. I love you, Rafe.” You smile at him like he’s your whole world and he feels his heart warm. He’s been wanting to marry you more and more lately.

“Got me all fuckin’ soft.” Rafe scoffs and rolls his eyes as he takes your hand in his and leads you back to the car.

All Things Rafe & His Weird!Girl Here

Tagging some moots: @sturnioloshacker @bimbotrashcan @babygorewhore @starkeysprincess

[honeyydrunk]

nct are such fraternity boy college athletes fuckboys coded it's insane !! everyone i see a video of those men with the homosexual tendencies, vaping addiction, and their athletic garments, it really only cements this theory. their disography and music videos add to this too 😔✋ u know 90's love, universe (let's play ball), alley oop, bad alive eng ver.

can imagine them walking around this elite prestigious campus all loud and obnoxious. they know everyone is looking at them and want to fuck them too. they're chronic drinkers, vapers, cheaters, fuckboys. what would get most students expelled, they do on a tuesday afternoon.

nct are mostly made up of foreigners right? watch them walk around the campus as rich international students, some are here on academic or athletic scholarships they don't need. everything they own is designer. playing the 'sorry my korean isn't so good, can you help me?' card, and what they want help with is you sucking their dick.

the korean members aren't any better. they're every single horrible stereotype you hear of korean hongdae fuckboys. will come up to you all sweet and pretty, but they're horrid.

cw for under the cut: they are toxic males

can literally imagine haechan vaping on the college campus, moaning in the back of the class obnoxiously, and pulling the thing where he jokingly asks for your number ALL THE TIME. going to college parties and getting wasted after 3 drinks idk 🤷 ,,, he'd be so whiny and teasing too. bc obviously he's a rude BITCH but he's so pretty and whiny and flirtatious. he's fucking everything in sight, absolute whore!! his body count is triple his age. he'd genuinely try to suck one of his friends' dick and claim it doesn't mean anything because he has clothes on !! 😔✋ he'd be stroking his dick while you're in the room, whimpering your name. the type to get on his knees and beg for any kind of attention from you..

mark lee starting off being a cute college boy canadian transfer but becomes the NOTORIOUS korean pastor's son fuckboy in like the span of 3 months. he'll act real nice, and that's because he is real nice. being super sweet and asking if you want to get coffee with him and study. and he's so good with his words you'll think that's all it is. but then of course, since he's so good with his words he'll have you blushing and giggling as he takes you back to his apartment and gets your clothes off. talking yapping so much you don't even realise what he has you doing, that you're just another girl he's pulled. he'll still be whispering when his face is in your pussy. telling you how easily you cum. "dang girl, wait a lil' can't you?" implying you're the whore,

YUTA yuta is the entire campus crush. the star football ⚽️ player and the rockstar vocalist in a band. has sex with all the groupies that come to his concerts. he's dragging people up on stage to shotgun them while the guitar break plays. absolute heartbreaker. would definitely kick the ball to your head so that when it hits you, he has to go over check if you're alright, take you up to the nurse and wait with you. he is such a liar, it genuinely hurts. lying all the time and making up words and stories left and right. but he smells like cherries and watery perfume !! he tastes like it too. you'll be coming to all his garage concerts just to see if you'll be the one he takes backstage to fuck after. he's like a god, half the time you don't even realise he's a student like the rest of you. he's just an angel sent to have fun and fuck or smth.

jaemin nah he's horrid. he'll cheat on you, and with his cute smile you'll forgive him instantly. 😔✋ he'll spend a little cash dress you in designer, make you cum until you faint, and tell you how beautiful and perfect you are for him. he will genuinely have you thinking those girls meant nothing to him, theyre just a way to vent his stress and you're the only one he loves. and then bro will say he can't stay the night, as he needs to wake up early for training. you agree, obviously. and he left for another girl's house to fuck her too. when you met him he smelled so sweet, and it was someone else's perfume. each of his girls swear they're his favourite of his, and one day he's planning fucking them all in the same room.

JOHNNY SUH? he would abuse the american transfer student status. he walks around without a shirt, soaking wet, and never get pulled up. he's rich too, got bands on his wrist and multiple cars. going on holidays overseas every chance he get and hosting parties every weekend. when you get drunk at one of them, almost falling off the balcony, someone will come up and help you to a chair. he'll take real good care of you, going above and beyond. so you can't let this guy leave when he's everything you've ever wanted. so you pull yourself onto him and ride him while the party rages on inside. make sure his dick feels so good he'll ask for your number. but you don't know that you're the fifth girl who's thrown herself at him that night.

taeyongie ^-^ he's the prettiest guy you've ever seen. bros too sweet and shy to be handing out with the rest of the neo WHORES. he's the leader of a lot of clubs but he mainly sits in cute little cafes. genuinely he seemed too adorable? to be considered the 'leader' of some horrific ahh fuckboys. until you check twitter and you see someone's reposted his MANY MULTIPLE HE HAS A LOT sex tapes. he's surrounded by ridiculously hot guys and girls, and they're passing him around like a joint, and he's begging to be humiliated. they're making him cum so much he crying. he's stronger than most of them but he's letting himself be thrown around like a doll. absolutely wrecked. looking in the camera with pretty black eyes and a slurred voice before someone shoves a cock back in this throat "am i pretty?" zhong chenle is the epitome of the chinese international student stereotype. he's almost never there, never takes off his sunglasses. he has several of those douyin type baddies trailing after him. "you have nice collarbones and pretty eyes, i like. what's your instagram?" he'll be talking with his friend renjun about what yacht he should buy during class. he can buy your affection simply because he's just that rich. will shove his black card down his pants and tell you there's only one way to get it. buys rolex watches so that he can have it on while he fingers you. dresses you in diamonds and he doesn't want to be paid back in cash. qian kun is there on an academic scholarship, but he doesn't need it. he's just that good, the school begs to have him attend. he's not a fuckboy in the conventional sense but he's just as nasty. he wants to have the perfect girl for him, to bring back to his family. he'll look for the most naive but academic girl he can. he's a manipulator. he's trying to mold you into what he wants. he'll replace your entire wardrobe with designer, but he picked out all the clothes. he'll plan cute dates for you every day, but it's to stop you from hanging out with your skanky friends. he'll buy you a new phone, but he's already added software tech to spy on you. in some essences, even though he's not a fuckboy, he's much worse than one.

jisung, like taeyong, looks so sweet. but he's NASTY. he'll seem too quiet to be hanging out with the rest of the dreamie WHORES. so you don't mind sitting next to him in your lecture. but he's just a mix of all of dream. he's good with his words like mark, and he'll have you agreeing to meet at his place EASY. he's too cute to refuse like haechan and jaemin. and then the renjun part hits, silent and sneaky, he'll be doing everything to make you think you're coming on to him. once he finally has you, he'll make a mess of you like a feral animal, the way you've heard jeno fucks. and you realise he's just like the rest of the dreamies, you shouldn't have thought otherwise. he might actually be worse than all of them.

tell me if u want me to make these like a full post or add more characters IM SO CRAZY DELULU RN SORRY xx !! 💋

[aboutchriss]

Physiotherapy and coconut oil.

Just a thought on this

Pairing: idol!Chan x fem!reader.

Genre: fluff, crack maybe??, friends/co-workers to?

Warnings: make out session, half naked Chan?????, mention of handjob, handjob, mention of anger issues, dry humping, mention of food and alcohol, mention of dom!chan, sub!chan, softdom!reader, let me know if I miss something. DO NOT USE COCONUT OIL ON YOUR PRIVATE AREAS!!

Author note: we need to talk about this outfit, I know that I'm late but bro, look at him, his stupid boobs, and arms, and abs? I'm on my knees, hair in a ponytail, ready to do my job. why? because I'm a whore for this man, also his physiotherapist is lucky as fuck, I mean he or she or they can touch this man, without anything on...I’m too tired and lazy so not proofread

(the recipe of the pasta mentioned in the story is here especially for my vegetarian and lactose free friends 💅🏼)

Also fun fact: being a physiotherapist is my dream job and this makes me way too much delulu.

-✉️

I’m so insecure about my English, as I said it’s not my first language and I’m always scared to make mistakes or stuff like that, so if you find mistakes please let me know, I’ll be thankful and also my English will improve!

-✉️

As always requests are open!💘

A knock from the door of your little studio call your attention

“C’mon in, the door is open”

You say, closing your laptop to pay attention to him

A head covered with a black beanie and a smile with a pair of dimples appeared at your door.

“Hello, my beautiful, amazing wonderful y/n, the sun is shining, the birds are singing and-“

“What did you do?”

You cut him off

He close the door behind his back

“Let’s say that hypothetically I went to the gym”

He sits right in front of you

“Mh, you do it every day, what’s the problem?”

He giggles a little

“You know last time that we saw each other?”

He asks

“Yeah, umh Wednesday?”

“Mhmh, and what you did to me?”

“The-what? The usual massage? Back, neck, thigh, basically the whole body”

“Exactly, and you know that I was mad because of that little thing that I won't bring it up again?”

“Yes, what’s the problem Chan? I have a lot of things to do”

“Iwenttothegymrightafteroursession”

“Excuse me, what?”

You asked confused

“I-uh- don’t get mad please, you know that I love you, we are friends right? Your hair looks pretty today”

You look at him, raising your eyebrows waiting for the real answer

“I went to the gym, right after our session, and I lifted a couple weights, and umh- I heard a crack on my neck, but now everything hurts, so can you please fix me?”

“YOU DID WHAT?”

you raise your voice

“I’m sorry I was mad”

“Christopher”

You say

“Not the government name please, you scare the shit out of me when you call me ChRiStoPheR. And I know okay? You have all the rights to be mad at me, I’m sorry, but I was about to explode, my options were the gym or the big boss face”

“Take off your shirt”

You sight

“I love when you say that”

“Shut up, before I punch you in the face”

You say

“Rude”

He says

“Stupid”

You stand up and search on the little cabinet everything you need for the massage

“I’m sorry”

He looks at you

“It’s okay Chan. But when I tell you to rest after our sessions it’s because I mean it, it’s part of the healing process. Even Changbin listens to me, and you, more than me know that he’s a gym rat.”

“I know, I’m sorry I was just-“

“Overwhelmed?"

“Yes”

He says taking off his shirt

“You know that you can talk to me right? I’m not just here to fix y’all muscles, I’m a friend. You can call me, anytime, you say “y/n I had a bad day can we talk?”. 5 minutes walk and I’m at your dorm, and you know it Channie.”

Your tone is sweeter now

“It was three in the morning y/n, I- I didn’t want to wake you up, I’m a man, I can’t-“

“So sweet of you to think that I sleep at three. and Channie yes, you’re a man and you’re human and as a human you have emotions, it’s okay to feel overwhelmed sometimes or mad, sad, angry, emotionless, it’s totally fine, if you feel like you're about to explode than you need to talk"

He looks at you, silently

"you can call, or FaceTime me if you don't want me around, we don't need to talk about what's upsetting you, but you can't be alone with your thoughts"

"didn't know that you were this sweet you know?"

"I'm not sweet"

"mhmm, you're right you're more like a mom"

he smiles at you

“What? I’m younger than you”

“Meh, just a couple of years”

He says smiling

“C’mon, don’t stare at me like a little puppy, and put away the damn dimples, with those abs you look everything but cute”

“Oh yeah?”

“Shut up and lay on your stomach”

“Mhhhh, okay okay”

He lays down, giving a full view of his back, wider than when the two of you met, if you had him as a friend with benefits (for your studies of course) during your anatomy exam, you would probably have had the best score of the class.

As soon as your hands touch his back he twitches

“Ah fuck”

“I barely touched you”

You say

“Your hands are fucking cold y/n, where did you keep them inside the freezer?”

“God, you scared me. Don’t be a pussy, they will warm up, I promise”

You say touching him again

“Mhhhhh -he cries- usually you don’t have cold hands”

He says

“Because you’re the last one that I treat, I.N always get my cold hands, and he got used to it”

“Oh poor I.N, he-ah he has-ah to get through this”

“Stop whimpering”

“I’m not whimpering”

“Yes, you are”

“No, I’m-ah not”

“See, you’re a whimper man”

You say massaging the lower part of his back

"I'm not-ah-fuck"

"next time, if I say that you have to rest, go home, take a warm shower, eat something, and go to bed, you're lucky that you don't have a fever"

you slap his back

"aah what's wrong with you?"

"you're an asshole, and you act like a child"

you slap him again

"stop slapping me"

he says sitting down on the small massage bed

"no"

you slap him again

"oh my god stop it"

"no - you slap his chest - you know that you could've hurt your self huh? you and your stupid anger issues - you slap once again - what you were trying to gain to stupid bitch?"

"stop slapping me"

he says blocking your wrists

"I said I'm sorry, next time if I'll feel overwhelmed I'll call you okay? just bring soju with you"

"soju? wanna get drunk?"

you ask trying to escape from his grip

"fuck yes, I need to get drunk"

"I'll buy soju on my way home and you can come over okay?"

"you’re inviting me in your house?"

he asks, caressing your wrists with his thumb

"yeah, you know no boys around so we can talk freely, and I'll make dinner"

"mh...okay then"

he says smiling, showing once again his stupid dimples

"now, let me finish my job okay? go home, take a warm shower and then come over"

"okay mom"

"don't"

you try to hide a smile

"now lay down"

he stares at you

"please?"

you say, and this bitch lays down, just because you said please? fuck it's going to be looong night

"try not to whimper this time okay?"

you whisper near his hear

"I'll try, ma'am"

-

you just got out of the shower when you hear the doorbell

"SHIT, WAIT GIVE ME A SECOND"

you scream, trying to dress yourself as fast as you can, not thinking about who's your guest, but honestly you don't give a fuck, you're in your own house and it's summer, that's what you think trying to justify your shorts and tank top

"Hi Channie, I'm sorry I made you wait, come in"

"Oh, Hei no worries it's my fault, I should've texted you"

he says taking off his shoes before getting inside

"I wouldn't answered you, my phone died at work, and I was so late that the moment I came home, I prepared the sauce for the pasta and I jumped into the shower"

"no worries -he giggles- wanna help with dinner while you dry your hair?”

"oh no, stay away from my kitchen, set the table and open the red wine that you find in the counter"

"yes ma'am"

he says

"damn, this wine looks good where did you get it?"

"oh-my mom send a bunch of stuff from Italy to me, so I don't get homesick"

you say stirring the sauce

"stuff like alcohol?"

"yes, and food"

you laugh

"sooo much food, the best that I can do is sharing, you know sharing is caring"

"and what are you making tonight?"

he says looking over your shoulders

"mh, pasta all'arrabbiata"

"i have no idea of what it is but sounds good, also I've never heard you talking in italian, sounds sexy"

"CHAN"

"WHAT"

"stop it"

you say turning towards him

"what I'm not doing anything"

"you're flirting"

you say

"flirting? I don't know what flirting is"

he says with a smile on his face

"oh put those dimples away"

you say turning to the kitchen counter, checking if the pasta is ready, or maybe you don't want to show him your cheeks getting redder

"we can sit, while we wait for the pasta”

you say walking towards him

“wanna a glass of wine?"

"please, yes"

you say almost disparately, he pours two BIG glasses of wine

"cheers, to the best physiotherapist ever"

"to the most stubborn person I know, who can't listen"

you say looking him in the eyes

"cheers Chan"

"cheers y/n"

"so you think I'm stubborn huh?"

"oh yeah, definitely"

"why?"

he asks sipping his wine

"why what? why I think you're a stubborn?"

he nods

"you don't listen to people who care about you? and you do almost everything without thinking? and you think you're invicible, you try to keep everything on your shoulders forgetting that you're a human? mh yes, you're a stubborn"

"damn, you can't lie huh?"

"nope"

you say sipping some wine

"can I check the pasta or you're going to kill me?"

"no, I'll check it, in my house guests don't make dinner"

"mh, can I come here more often?"

he asks giggling

"of course, the door is always open for you...I mean you guys, you know, you and the boys, all of them"

you get up, slapping mentally your face

what the fuck y/n behave yourself, he's just a friend. A hot one tho, but just a friend.

thanks God the pasta is ready, you mix it with the sauce and then pour it in two plates

"here we go"

you say sitting next to Chan, he waits for you, and after you take the first bite, he starts eating with you

“You need something else?”

"absholutely noth, thish ish perfect"

he says with his mouth full of pasta, you smile at this sight of him, without his working dark aura. People says that he's scary as fuck when he's working, and they mean it, he change completely, especially when he is in the studio, it's like an alter ego (we can call it Christopher yeah)

"so...you like it?"

you ask taking a bite a food

"yesh -he swallows- I want you to come at the dorm and cook for me...I mean us everyday, oh you should do a cooking competition with Lee Know, I would probably die because the good food but it would be a great death"

you laugh

"it's called food coma"

"really?"

he asks

"mhmm, try my nonna's food then we can talk about food coma"

"nonna is...?"

"oh, my grandma, she is a great chef"

"then I have to meet her"

he says finishing his plate

"in order to meet her you have to go to Italy, also she doesn't speak a word of English or Korean so you have to learn Italian"

"for good food? I'll do everything. You can be my teacher, I'm sure that you know how to speak it"

"me? your teacher?"

"yes"

"why me?"

"because you can speak Italian and I want to spend more time with you"

you choke on wine

"you what?"

you try to speak between the cough

"you okay?"

he asks patting gently your back

"yes, I'm okay, thanks. You really mean it?"

you ask

"what?"

"that you want to spend more time with me"

"yes, and I don't mean at the studio. I want to know you better as a friend, as a person"

"fuck Chan"

you get up, taking both of the plates to wash it

"fuck Chan what?"

he follows you at the sink

"we can't, you-you can't know me better"

"why not?"

he asks shrugging his shoulders

"because-I can't"

"mh? you have a boyfriend in Italy?"

"no"

"then why I can't know you better?"

"my...my contract, I signed a contract when the company hired me"

"and?"

he asks

"I can't have anything with my patients, and you're one of them"

you say looking at him

"where is the problem? -he asks- we're not at the company, we're just two friends who had dinner together, with some wine"

he says getting closer to you

"Chan please...don't"

"what? I'm not doing anything"

he says

"I know, it's me, I'm the problem, I don't know if I can contain my self right now, not after what you said"

"then do it, don't contain your self"

"this-you move your hands between your bodies-won't happened ever again"

"I can't make this promise"

he traps you with his arms between his body and the sink

"fuck Chan"

you say before kissing him on the lips, they’re so soft and you fucking knew it.

“We shouldn’t do that”

You say in between the kisses

“Shut up”

He says lifting you up, your legs locked behind his back

“Fuck-fuck-fuck it’s cold”

You say when your ass touch the marble of the kitchen counter, he giggling in your lips. Hands on his curls, pulling almost too roughly but he doesn’t seem to mind it

“That’s the revenge for the massage with your stupid cold hands”

“Yeah? If this the revenge that i get I’ll switch your turn with I.N so you’ll have my cold hands on your body everyday”

You say kissing his neck, way too roughly, biting and sucking his soft skin. For sure he’s going to have marks all over his neck tomorrow, but there’s make up to cover it up right?

“Sofa, please”

You say looking in his eyes

“Fuck I love when you beg, it turns me on”

He says picking up by your thighs, walking to the small sofa in your living room.

“You get turned on easily huh?”

“Shut up, I bet that you’re wet since I came into your house”

He says sitting on the couch, your legs on each side of him

“I’m always wet when your around”

“Yeah? So many lost opportunities for my dick”

He says pouting, placing his hands on your ass

“None of my business”

You say smiling, kissing his lips again and again, his tongue sliding inside your mouth, so gently and sweet, he taste like good wine, and you feel you can almost get drunk just with his tongue (maybe you’re already are)

“Stop grinding on my dick or i will fuck you in this small sofa”

“Such a dirty mouth Christopher”

You say grinding on him once more

“Mmhph please don’t use that name”

“Why not whimper man?”

You say placing your hands on his abs

“Your accent, I don’t know it’s just, I don’t know”

“Wow, you have clear ideas”

You laugh getting more comfortable on his lap, even if there’s something hard hat almost bothers you.

“You know what I’ve been thinking the whole day? At the studio, in the shower, even while I was in the car to come here”

“What?”

“Your hands, and that thing that you said to me”

“Mh?”

You’re confused, trying to understand what his talking about

“Your handjobs”

“Ooooh that, why? I mean it’s just a handjob”

You say shrugging your shoulders

“Yeah but why they’re so special?”

“Oh you wanna know the key huh?”

He nods looking at you

“My job”

“They teach you how to do-“

“Nonono”

You laugh shaking your hands

“Because of my job I have to use a lot of massage oil, coconut oil and stuff like that, so my hands are soft”

“Oooh so that’s the key”

“Yeah, some love, and coconut oil or lube”

“So that’s why you smell like coconut”

You laugh

“Yes, but I have a question”

“What’s up?”

He asks

“Wanna try?”

“What?”

You look at him

“Oooh that? I-I mean if you want to”

“I’m asking for your consent Chris, I’ve teased you enough today”

You laugh

“You think? I’ve been hard the whole day, my balls might be turned blue, so it’s a yes”

“Give me a second okay?”

You leave a kiss on his lips and go to your bed room searching for the coconut oil (that of course it’s in your bed side table for scientific purposes👀) you glance quickly your self in the mirror and you’re a mess, but don’t mind it.

“Here I am”

You say, sitting once again on his lap

“Let me warm you up a little more yeah?”

You say kissing his lips way more roughly than the first time, and a moan slips into your mouth

“Here you are my favorite whimper boy”

You say grinding your hips on him

“Mhhphf, I’m not whimpering, it’s just that- it’s the first time that someone - I’m the one who’s on top usually”

“Uuuh we have a dom here mh? Interesting, but let me be the one in control tonight yeah?”

“Please…y/n it hurts please do something”

He says in a desperate tone, kissing you so roughly that your lips are going to be swollen tomorrow

You work with his pants, taking out his warm and hard cock, that is leaking pre-cum liquid

“So needy”

You look at him in the eyes, you open the little jar and squeeze it a couple of drops drop in your dominant hand

“Can I?”

“Yes, please y/n please”

You slowly trace you fingertips around the head of his dick, spreading the pre cum liquid, making his dick slippery.

You wrap your hand around his dick, stroking it up and down so slowly that he looks so desperate.

“God- Please move, this is so frustrating”

He says placing his hands on top of yours

“Ah-ah put this hands behind your back, you can’t touch it”

“But it’s my cock”

He says arguing

“You have two options, you can place your hands behind you back and let me do my job, or I can tie you up so can’t move at all”

You say still stroking his dick

“No, no okay, I’ll put them behind my back”

“Such a good boy”

You kiss his lips, a deep moan sleeping out of his mouth. You place your hand on the base of his dick, using a tighter grip then before, moving it up and down paying attention to his head and to the most sensitive part of it.

“Mhhphf-fuck”

You keep moving your hand on him, and you know that he’s close by the way he move his body, the way he breathe, and the way he’s looking at you, his hands on your ass has a tighter grip now

“Fuck, I’m about to cum, please, please don’t stop.”

And of course you don’t stop, you already played too much with him, you stroke his cock faster now and he cums, a warm load of white and thick liquid running down his dick. You lick your fingers smiling, his head resting on your shoulder.

“Fuck”

He giggles

“What-who are you? Jesus Christ I’m-”

You giggle with him

“Now I’ll have a boner every time you treat me at the studio, you and your stupid coconut oil”

You laugh louder now, knowing that it’s not a joke.

“You laughing at me?”

He asks looking at you

“Yeah, maybe”

You shrug your shoulders

“Right…let me see if you can handle Christopher, yeah?”

He gets up, picking you up on one of his shoulders

“Waaaaa, what does this mean? Chaaaaan put me down”

“Ahah, Chan is not available at the moment call him later”

He says picking up that stupid coconut oil and walking away from the couch

“Now, tell me where is your bed room”

-

-

A/N: I think this is my first real smut, uhm this is so embarrassing, imma eclisse my self bye love you

[zweig-eater]

MESSY LOVE patrick zweig

you stared at him blankly as he rambled out some other excuse for his behavior. you had been fighting too long, and you were numbed and tired of it all. your head hurt and your heart was aching. after all this time, still nothing had been accomplished. patrick still believed he was in the right and he was even going to great lengths to make you believe that as well.

“you know, you are actually being quite selfish” he said, and that one line caught your attention back.

“how fucking dare you patrick… you are un-fucking believable.” you spit back at him with tears stinging the waterline of your eyes. you continued, only fueled by the hurt settling in your chest. “i’m selfish? for wanting to be more then some fuck buddy you use to get off?” your words felt like daggers as his gaze dropped. “i’m selfish? for thinking we could be something real? for holding you to promises you have made?”

as you laid into him, your head was pounding, eyes burning, and your body just felt entirely weakened. this was all getting to you, and you just wanted to sink into some sort of comfort and be safe for the night.

“can't you see how bad you're hurting me?” you asked, almost desperately, as a tear finally fell from your eye; and you sat, collapsing down on your bed, giving into the exhaustion this fight had forced you into.

and just like that patrick was on you. his feet moved so swiftly you hardly noticed before he was kneeling right in front of you. his hand reached up to your cheek and held the side of your face, fingers hooking around to the back of your neck and stabilizing you.

“hey, hey, look at me… im right here. i’m sorry baby, i’m so sorry” he pleaded with you. his rigid and cocky exterior cracking and falling immediately at the clear sign of you in pain. he was kneeling in front of you, sitting between your knees hanging off the bed. his free hand wrapped around the back of your calf, sweetly stroking it.

you grabbed at his shoulders, fisting his shirt, both pushing him away and pulling him in. even you weren't sure where or how close you wanted him. on one hand, he was the only person who you wanted comforting you right now. but on the other hand, he was the reason you were in this state in the first place.

“n-no, no youre not” you refuted with tears streaming profusely now. “you’re not sorry pat, you don't even ca-”

“y/n i'm in love with you” he cut you off before you could finish whatever you were trying to say. before you could continue thinking any longer that you werent the most important thing in his life. you were, and he knew that. and it scared him. he was never the type to fall in love, or to trust, or to be entirely vulnerable with someone. but you brought it out of him, and he was done running from that feeling.

your eyes met his, widening at his confession. you were staring at him, your mouth slightly agape as your fuzzy brain wrecked itself to try and wrap around what he had just said.

“you're the best thing that has ever happened to me. and i'm an idiot for letting you spend even a minute not knowing that” his hands settled around your waist, arms resting on the bed. his fingers lightly traced your lower back and lulled you ever so closer to him. “you have set every inch of my being on fire and i refuse to imagine living a day of my life without you. i’ve never been in love, and it terrifies me.. i’m scared of what i might do to ruin this, or how i might make you hate me. but i know now that i’m willing to risk it. i’m so ready to learn all the beautiful and messy aspects of true devotion with you. because you are worth it. god, y/n, you are worth fighting any amount of fear or pain for.” he finished, eyes welling with water himself now.

you stayed silent. you let every word he said soak into your skin, then your muscles, then your heart. gently, your hands raised, one resting in the crook of his neck, the other finding his curls. together they guided his face up and towards yours. He watched you so closely, as he let you move him into you. his lips quivered with longing as they inched closer to yours. a faint tearful sigh escaped his lips just as they latched onto yours.

his hands gripped you with the force of a man clinging to a life support, yet still with the gentleness of you being a delicate porcelain doll. the kiss held so much passion you thought you might both catch on fire. burning with love and the need for the other to feel how important they were. your tongues swirled together as if trying to get infinitely closer to the other. as you pulled away, both your cheeks stained with tears, patricks lips quirked up into a smile for the first time all night.

“you’re an asshole” you told him, gently pushing his shoulder and grinning dumbly at him. his eyes gleamed at you, so full of love, his pupils were blown out and everything. “why couldnt you just say that before we wasted all night arguing?” you asked, giggling and hooking your hands under his arms, tugging him lightly to join you on the bed.

“where’s the fun in that?” he quipped back sarcastically as he crawled onto the bed and hovered above you, pushing you on your back. “you’re so beautiful” he whispered, dazing at you, like you had never seen before. “i’m so sorry baby, i shouldn't have argued… let me make it up to you” he smirked as his head dipped down and planted a sweet but wet kiss on your neck.

as his head lifted and eyes locked back onto yours. you swallowed any fear left in your throat and returned his confession with how you truly felt about him. “i love you pat,” you told him. the words sounded so sweet he needed his lips back onto yours to taste them.

“i love you baby, so much” was the last thing he said before he kissed you again, this time with a new level of tenderness.

[biblio-smia]

massaging wherever is sore with waking up to partner tracing divots in spine with remus lupin please 🙏 (plz have remus be giving the massage im just a bitch with a sore body 😭)

incredibly real. first ever remus lupin fic please be kind <3 | part of v's 1000 follower celebration

you feel skin against yours before anything else, warm fingers circling your skin. you wonder how long the small motions of his fingers have been keeping remus entertained. his attention, usually fickle, always seemed to be captivated by you.

remus's touch against your spine pauses as you stir, a change in your breathing giving you away. remus can't help his smile as your eyes flutter open to see him, long hair a mess on his head. you always wondered how it was possible, if there was some creature stopping by in the middle of the night to tangle his hair while he slept.

"good morning," remus hums against your skin.

"you woke me up."

"not on purpose."

you pull away from remus, giving him a look while he holds back a grin.

before remus can trap himself against you again, you turn out of his loose hold and stretch, groaning at the ache that has settled into your muscles. remus frowns as you wince - sleeping cuddled up against remus's chest was only ever comfortable until the morning.

remus's hands, never able to stay away from you for too long, find yours.

"it's just my shoulders. they're a bit sore." you shake your head dismissively, pulling yourself up. remus sits up alongside you, pulling your legs back into bed when you try swinging them over the edge.

"let me help?" remus's thumb swipes over your thigh gently, palm resting on your knee, eyes looking up at you in a way he knows you can't reject.

you nod once and remus disappears from your line of sight to sit behind you, hands gently coming up to your shoulders. you're thankful he can't see you now as heat rises to your face, trying to relax as remus begins massaging your shoulders.

"like that?" remus asks softly, pressing into your muscles with his thumbs.

"mhmm," you reply, not trusting your own voice to speak.

remus works diligently, using various methods to try and soothe your muscles, checking in with you to make sure he's not being too rough.

remus can't help swinging around to press a kiss on your cheek, raising an eyebrow at the temperature of your skin and you know you've been caught.

"am i flustering you?" remus all but laughs, a teasing tone in his voice.

you roll your eyes and scoff as remus tries to turn you around.

"get off!" you try to swat his arm but remus is used to this - he pins you easily, laughing now as he kisses all over your face to test his theory.

"bad news," remus grins cheekily, pressing his lips against the tip of your nose quickly. "i think you're in love with me, sweetheart."

"i don't think so," you counter. "you're the one who can't keep his hands off me."

remus considers this, the motioning of your head towards his hands currently attached to you. remus tilts his head and hums, letting go of you in favor of placing his hands on your face, still warm.

"you may be right about that," remus admits, running a thumb along your bottom lip. "but how could i?"

you can't help but be affected, both by remus's words and the swipes of his fingers. your patience wears thin and your mind remains greedy, pulling remus in for a kiss.

he's gentle with you, as he always is, kissing you as softly as he can, lips barely pressing against yours.

remus grins once you've pulled apart and your fingers instinctively push some strands of hair out of his face. he leans down, lips leaving kisses at the corner of your jaw.

"i told you!" remus whispers in a sing-songy tune, his breath tickling your skin. you laugh, pulling remus flush against you. before he can worry about hurting you your lips are on his again.

remus feels dizzy, senses so completely full of you. he's left breathless by the fervor with which you kissed him and, by god, you've left him speechless.

a teasing smile lays on your lips as remus pants to try and catch his breath, your fingers tracing patterns against the nape of his neck.

"something caught your tongue?

[vodika-vibes]

Love Is Kind

Summary: When your father moved your family to Mandalore in an attempt to court the various clans on behalf of the Republic, you were obligated to go with him, even though you were in your twenties. You really should have known that you were brought along in the hopes that one of the warriors of Mandalore would pick you as their bride. Too bad for your father that you’ve always known your own mind.

Pairing: Jaster Mereel x F!Reader

Word Count: 1182

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, also Montross is a creep

Tagging: @bad4amficideas @justiceandwar98 @Mira-Loves-Star-Wars @tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar @trixie2023 @kimiheartblade @padawancat97

@falconfeather23435 @etod @bb8-99 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I'm in a Jaster mood and I'm making it all of your problems. Sorry, not sorry. Also, I'm not sure why but tumblr isn't letting me tag some of you. I'm sorry.

Click HERE to join my taglist!

“Good morning, Princess,”

You stifle your eye-roll with the ease of long practice when the familiar, and grating, voice of Montross reaches your ears. The shudder is a lot harder to hide, as his hand slides across your shoulders, but you manage it.

“Good morning, Montross,” You greet as you turn on your stool to regard the much larger man. “I wasn’t aware that you had returned to Mandalore.”

His smile makes your skin crawl, “Did you miss me?”

You smile and neatly side-step his question, “How was your mission?”

He drops onto the stool next to you, his arm still thrown over your shoulder, and he leans into your personal space. “It was amazing. I came face to face with a Jedi.” He boasts, “Killed him too.”

“Hm. Is that right?”

“Oh yeah. Wasn’t even a challenge.” He pushes his hand through his hair, in a movement that was probably supposed to be attractive, but really wasn’t. 

You flash a close-mouthed smile, “If it wasn’t hard, Montross, then how can you know it was a Jedi?”

“He had a lightsaber.”

“Those aren’t Jedi specific,” You point out, “Anyone can use a lightsaber. Jedi just use them well.”

“Aw, come on, Princess. You don’t think I could do it?”

“I think if you came face-to-face with a Jedi, we’d be having a funeral right now.” You reply before you duck under his arm.

“Sometimes, Princess, you are so very Republic.”

“What can I say? I like Jedi.”

“You’re a Mandalorian now, sweetheart. You should start thinking like one.” Montross says as he leans a little closer, close enough that you can feel the heat from his skin against yours.

“I think you’ll find that I’m not.”

“You will be when you marry me.”

At that, you turn to look at him. “Not even if you were the last man in the galaxy.” You really should be polite, but you’re done with him and you’re done being polite to him. So you flick your fingers in his direction, “Shoo fly, you’re bothering me.”

You’re aware, vaguely, of offense crossing his face, and you grimace as he stands up so sharply that his stool goes flying. 

And then he leans over you, trapping you between the counter and his armor, “Your smart mouth is going to get you in trouble.” Montross warns.

You’re about to reply when another voice, a little deeper but much more welcome to your ears, interrupts, “Come on, verd. She said she’s not interested. This is just embarrassing.”

Montross straightens, “Jaster,” His lip curls, “If she’s not into me, she definitely won’t be into you.”

You turn on your stool again and catch Jaster’s eye, a real smile crossing your face as he winks at you. “I’m not so sure about that, Montross,” Jaster replies with a smug smirk.

You watch an ugly shade of red slide across Montross’ face, and then he stalks out of the restaurant. “He might actually try to hurt you one day, Jaster.” You warn.

“He can try.” Jaster picks up Montross’ abandoned stool, sets it back into place, and then slides it a little closer to you before he sits on it, twisting his body so that his armored knees are brushing against yours. “He didn’t hurt you?”

You rest your chin on the palm of your hand, your smile growing, “If he did, will you go defend my honor?”

“If you phrase it right,” Jaster replies with an answering grin, “I might do it even if he didn’t.” His thumb brushes against your knuckles, “Are you sure you’re uninjured?” He asks, his voice soft and for your ears alone.

“I am.”

“I’m glad.” He closes his hand over yours, and keeps his gaze locked with yours, “Montross thinks you’re going to pick him. He feels entitled to your affection.”

“How sad for him,” You reply, your voice just as soft, “I have my eyes on someone else.”

“Oh? Do I know him?” Jaster teases.

You flip your hand and thread your fingers with his, “You might.”

His gaze drops to your joined hands, and then snaps back to your face, “Do you want to go for a walk?” Jaster asks, his gaze serious.

“Nothing would make me happier.” 

He flashes a small smile and sets some credits on the counter to pay for your caf and cake, and then he gets to his feet and lightly tugs you to join him.

You, happily, press yourself against his side as you leave the restaurant together. Warmth runs down your spine as he lazily rubs circles on your hand with his thumb.

Whenever you’re with Jaster, you feel safe and warm. As though nothing in the galaxy can touch you so long as you’re with him.

It’s one of the many reasons that you love him.

And you do love him. 

And, you’re pretty sure, he feels the same way.

Jaster leads you through the busy streets, only stopping when you reach a quiet area on the edge of the town. It’s just the two of you, surrounded by trees and flowers, and you can’t help but think that he could have brought you to an old warehouse, filled with broken droids, and it would still have been the most romantic thing ever.

He smiles at you and releases your hand, only so he’s able to lightly cup your face with his hands. Jaster tilts your head so you’re looking right at him, and his smile widens. “You know,” He murmurs, “In those old holofilms, where the male protagonist claims that his love interest is his whole world, they always sounded dramatic to me.”

You press your hands over his, “They’re supposed to be, I think.” You reply with a fond smile.

“Maybe so,” He slowly leans in and presses his forehead against yours, “But I really am holding my whole world in the palms of my hands.” Jaster sounds awed, as though he can’t believe what he’s feeling.

Your face burns with slightly flustered embarrassment and your heart swoops with excited joy, “Jaster—”

“I love you,” He whispers, and then a broad grin crosses his face, “I love you.”

You can’t help the delighted laugh that falls from your lips as you release his hands and fling your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a, slightly awkward, kiss.

Though it’s only awkward because he wasn’t expecting it.

Jaster’s arms wrap around you, holding you securely as he hovers his lips just over yours, “Does that mean you—?”

“I love you.” You breathe against his lips, “I love you, I love you, I love—” You’re not able to finish the phrase, as his lips seal over yours stealing your words and your breath.

You don’t mind. Both belong to him anyway.

Your parents aren’t going to be thrilled. Your stepmother had plans to marry you off to the son of an Alderaanian aristocrat. Your father would prefer that you pick a member from a larger clan than Clan Mereel.

But you’ve made your choice…and they’re just going to have to live with it.

[karma-vvitch]

l'amour de ma vie

Thought I was depressed or losing my mind My stomach upset almost all of the time But after I left, it was obvious why (oh), mm Because for you, you I was the love of your life, mm But you were not mine (but you were not mine)

𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: Angst

𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘:  Hurt/No Comfort, Angst fest lmao, Bucky’s kinda a dick in this one (so for all the ppl who don’t like reading Bucky in a negative light, this isn’t for you babe. *I’m ppl), The reader is implied to be chubby/plus size, slight body insecurity, but I think reader girl bossed in this (maybe it’s just me), AGAIN THERE IS NO FLUFF HERE ABSOLUTELY NONE. 

“You ruined me” You glared at him “You ruined me, Bucky Barnes” It’s been 2 weeks and 3 days since Bucky broke up with me. The audacity of that man. I don’t know where it went wrong. Was it when he started coming home late? Or when he started sleeping on the couch? There were too many instances to count. I guess the straw that broke the camel’s back was when he left his phone on the counter, Sharon’s contact notification glowed brightly. “We should stop this” God I thought for once I wasn’t an idiot, but once again my ego was shattered. That fucker told me he loved me, all of me. From my smile, to my curves, to my thighs. And yet he still went for miss perfect. “Baby–” The asshole spoke. “Baby? Seriously Barnes? Trying to soften me up? We’re SO past that!” I laugh incredulously. Fighting the tears welling in my eyes. “You promised me! You dick! You promised me! You said you looked past this–” gesturing to my body “I thought you saw me for me, Bucky!” He looked embarrassed. Good. “Baby, can we please not do it here?” He looked around the common room we were standing in. The place occupied by the team who were in awe and disbelief on what’s going on. This bitch “Oh! You’re embarassed? Good, let them see your shame for the lying, cheating piece of shit that you are!” Gasps are echoed throughout the room. The woman in question as well, finally, looking away in shame. Bucky looked helpless. The severity of the situation finally hitting him like a freight train. “Please, it was a mistake. Yes, I’m a huge asshole for hurting you. You have all the right. I love you. What I did will haunt me for the rest of my life and I’m sorry–” tears flowing freely from his eyes at this point “I’m so so sorry” The sight before you could’ve made you fold easily. Bucky on his knees, grovelling. Your Bucky who held you when your friends abandoned you. Your Bucky who drove you to McDonald’s at 3am to get nuggets. Your Bucky who dropped everything just to go home and take care of you at your lowest. For a second you thought that everything happening at the moment was just a bad dream. He would never hurt you… But he did. His cries snapped you back to reality. “I broke up with you because I was a coward, I thought I could fix myself and come back to your life a better man– I should’ve told you sooner” All I could do is stare at him, emotionless and numb. What does one even do in this situation? The (once) love of your life, who has hurt you beyond any comprehension is grovelling at your feet. Should I say something? Should I lash out at him? Should I make him get up? It was all becoming too much In the end, I just turned my heel and left. The echoes of his increasing sobs and pleas following me. Good.

𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘: This may or may not be based on real-life... Oops. The angst gods were coursing through me ngl. I haven't written in months so this is exciting. The depression is still there and thriving but I'm not gonna let it stop me from doing what I love :>. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this. Hopefully, I get to write more Bucky stuff (I promise there will be more fluff. God knows this man deserves it). Anyway, hope y'all have a great day/night! xoxo

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: None yet!

[neon-kazoo]

Limits (Don’t Forget to Take Your Meds)

Hero and Villain were fighting on top of a building, and—admittedly—Hero wasn’t doing so hot.

Their heart was beating too fast, and they wanted nothing more than to sink to their knees right there on the rooftop. They were breathing hard but it wasn’t enough, their heart kept picking up speed and the oxygen didn’t seem to be reaching their head.

They blocked clumsily and Villain stepped back, flicking his wrist in a circular motion in an attempt to show off.

The display was lost on Hero, however, because Villain’s sword was no longer the only thing on the roof that was spinning. Hastily, they caught themselves before almost stumbling.

They tried to keep it from showing on their face, but somewhere in the past few seconds they must have failed because Villain stopped and let his weapon arm fall to his side.

“Hero?” He questioned.

Hero pressed their lips together, too scared to open their mouth in fear of the nausea that was swimming over them. They blinked, and he was closer, hand coming up to press against the pulse point of their wrist.

He shook his head at the rapid pounding he felt beneath their skin.

“Did you take your meds today?”

If Hero didn’t know better, his question would almost seem to hold the same condescension of a parent scolding a child who obviously hadn’t taken the time to think through their actions before getting upset.

“Of course I- oh.”

Hero visibly deflated.

“You really need to set an alarm or something,” Villain scolded.

“I have one!” Hero spoke defensively, “It’s just…I woke up and my cat was yelling and I had to get up and feed her but I just felt so bad-”

“Go home, Hero.”

Hero fumbled, “Seriously? I can’t just-”

“Yes, you can,” Villain interrupted. “In fact, I won’t allow you to do anything else.”

“No, no it’s fine,” Hero tried to argue, “I can-“

Push through, they didn’t get to finish.

“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. Surely you know this isn’t safe,” he leveled them with a look the hero wasn’t clear-headed enough to feel the full effect of.

His next statement was threatening, and Hero found themselves taken aback.

“Do you really want to flare?”

They couldn’t stop their lips from parting in surprise.

No one had ever understood like that, never told them they needed and were allowed to rest, aggressively or otherwise.

He made it sound so…simple.

Hero thought of the consequences of trying to fight Villain right now. There simply wasn’t enough ibuprofen in the world to make up for the symptoms that would follow. They really didn’t want to end up stuck in bed for days, not when there were plenty of less courteous villains that could decide to destroy the city at any time.

Their shoulders sagged in defeat. They knew what they needed to do but…

But it hurt, accepting their limits. They supposed that was their heroic pride talking, but part of them knew it was more than that.

It was shame, and it was anger. Anger that they were trapped in a body that couldn’t keep up with them. Shame because resting felt like giving up.

They followed the villain’s lead, laying down their weapon with shaking hands.

They were, as many people were, always told, “a real hero never gives up.”

A real hero, they thought now, knows how to pick their battles.

And they knew a fight with their body would never be one they could win.

[raccoonfallsharder]

rocket raccoon prompt week ✷ day seven home ✷.⁺⋆˚₊

fluff | no use of yn | gn reader | drabble | word count: 661.

Home had been a shining city on the far horizon for most of Rocket’s formative years: distant and gleaming under an impossible blossom-blue dome. Unreachable. Untouchable. He’d left any hope of it behind, a dozen cannon-shots or more before he’d ever even stepped foot off the Arête. No. Rocket had gone straight from the cages and right into his escape pod, out into a sky that had suddenly seemed much less beautiful and much more forever. 

And so home had always been a far-away thing, a thing he could never go back to, a thing that — like love, like peace, like a restful night’s sleep or body that didn’t hurt — Rocket could simply never have. A thing that hadn’t been meant for him. Like the screws slowly grinding away at his bones or the muscle contractures he’s always fighting in his hips and chest, home had just become another old ache that he’d grown to barely notice, except when he’s on a planet where the weather is bad. 

And then, one shift — when it was just you and him — he’d been trying to work the knots out of his shoulders. You’d reached out with dancing fingers and a query on your lips — a gentle little sound of offering — and he’d gone as still as a moon pinned between two gravity wells. Your fingers had felt light as little birds, perched on his shoulders weightlessly, and you’d guided them into a rolling series of rotations. Then you’d tugged him between your knees, and kneaded every small stone you’d found lodged under his skin and fur. 

When he’d finally gone as molten and buttery as a beeswax candle on a warm day, you’d murmured another little question. He’d blinked at you blankly — completely disconnected from anything but the feel of his body, pliant for the first time in possibly his entire life — so you’d pulled him onto your lap and continued your little ministry of touch until he’d fully curled up, his tail a wreath of feathery brushes around you both. His back had pressed itself into your hands as you’d worked your thumbs into the base of his spine: freeing the tension from his hips, beckoning it out of muscle and bone, letting it dissipate into the air between your fingertips. Your hands had been so warm that even all the metal plates and bolts deep inside had suddenly felt like a part of him — had suddenly matched his own body temperature — every piece slotting together inside him with a rightness he’d never known before. The air in his lungs had turned into little pearls and gemstones, spilling up into his throat like jeweled gravel. He’d made a noise — some kind of rumble — and it had startled him until your hands had soothed over him again and you’d whispered something that had sounded like you’re just purring. 

He’d never say any of this in front of the others, never let them know about this: about how soft he is for this, for the warm quiet circle of space in your arms and on your thighs. He’d never climb into your lap like this if they could see it; never make a nest out of your body-heat and burrow into the loose thick folds of your sweatshirt. He  only does it on the shifts when everyone else is asleep, or planetside, or away. 

It’s not that he’s ashamed. It’s just — this is something special and precious and small, and if he looks at it too closely or acknowledges it exists, he may never have it back. But for now — for these moments that he can only measure in the soft wash of his breath or the thrum of his pulse in his wrists, the steady sound of your heartbeat holding him together like gravity — for now, it’s touchable, and attainable, and real — 

Moreso than any shining city on the far horizon, glimmering against the sweep of a blossom-blue ocean and a forever sky.

i did it! i brought my wordcount down! this was just a fun little exercise in writing whatever weird shit came to my mind so sorry if it makes no sense but i figured i'd indulge my inclination toward purple prose (get rekt literary critics). anyway this was fun and i am very much in favor of many future rocket raccoon prompts & prompt weeks, and thank you for creating this and bringing it to my attention, @frostedwitch ♡♡♡

i will be putting out a masterlist for this set of prompts sometime next week probably. i really hope you enjoyed reading as much as i enjoyed writing! ♡

day six. bite rocket prompt week masterlist ✷ main masterlist rocket raccoon prompt week list

taglist ♡ @evolvingchaoswitch ♡ @glow-autumz ♡ @wren-phoenix ♡ @suicidalshitstick ♡ @pretty-chips

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Other Parts: Part One, Part Two, Part Three (short version) and Part Three (long version). 

You were awoken by Feather rushing down the stairs holding a glowing rectangle that you realised was a screen. "President Snow is inviting everyone to his palace! He's demanded it! Everyone will be on the street in minutes". Finnick nodded "it's a ploy to get us all out into the open, we can't go". "Well the rest of us have to" Feather said "but you two can stay here, maybe you can escape while everyone else is heading towards the mansion. Finnick didn't like those odds but nodded "yeah thanks Feather, we'll get ready and work out our next step". Feather nodded and tilted Finnick's face upwards as if inspecting him. You stiffened but it seemed to be an oddly sentimental act. "Good luck, I hope I never have to see you again" and he disappeared back up the stairs.

Finnick was right, there was no way you were moving on that leg today. Even swinging your leg hurt and your ankle couldn't have any weight on it. It was a good job you'd slept in warm trousers because there was no way you'd have been able to get any trouser leg over that ankle. "It's okay" Finnick told you "we'll work something out". He carried all your gear upstairs and then came back to carry you. He lifted you effortlessly and as always you were amazed how strong he was. "My ankle has its own heartbeat but you're really taking my mind off that" you said patting his chest and Finnick laughed "how?". "Duh with your beautiful body!" you said and Finnick put you down and then smiled at you "well it's all yours and if we survive today and get back home you can do whatever you want with it". You liked the sound of that but given whose home you were in that wording didn't feel quite right so you shook your head. "Whatever you want me to do with it, it's beautiful but it's yours Finnick and nobody ever gets to buy it again". Finnick blinked at your sudden seriousness and then smiled bashfully "thanks Y/n". You patted his cheek "no problem, now piggyback time!". Finnick turned so you could climb on when suddenly all the screens in the house lit up to tell you the rebels had won. President Snow had been de-throned.

You and Finnick wandered the streets like the other capitol residents in utter shock and not quite believing it was true...then you saw the rebel planes overhead and you grinned. "Finnick it's true! It's real! We won!". Finnick laughed and cheered loudly. You climbed off his back and settled onto one leg so you could hug him.

You carried on moving through the streets until eventually, you found an airship. Finnick knocked on the door and after your whole day of bad luck yesterday, you were due some good luck. "Finnick? Y/n?" a voice rang out and you saw Cressida appear from the side of the ship. "You're alive?" she asked and you grinned "hell yeah! You really thought you could abandon us and get away with it" and she rushed to hug you. Pollux appeared and gave you both a bright smile before joining in with the hugging. You were so happy you were saved you didn't even mind. Hugs for everyone!

Once they got on you the ship they began assessing your injuries. "Y/n's really damaged her knees, she's sprained her ankle or worse and her hip is really banged up too. Oh and she got electrocuted yesterday and her hands should probably be checked over too". "Finnick got electrocuted too! He has a dozen cuts all over his arms and body, his foot looks odd and he dislocated his shoulder and thought I didn't notice as he popped it back in" you said and Finnick looked at you. You stared back "what if you're going to tell on me I'll snitch back". Finnick just grinned shaking his head "we survived and we're going to live, that's all I care about" and he rested his head against yours. You didn't let go of your joint hands the whole way home...or you wouldn't have if you hadn't fainted minutes before you got into District 13.

When you woke up you noticed how heavy your head felt, you tried to move your hands to see if there was something attached to it weighing it down but your hands felt heavy too. Then your ears seemed to kick in and you realised people were shouting.

"I'm her sister! Blood matters more!". "No it doesn't! I'm her boyfriend, that's more than enough!".

You quickly realised it was Johanna and Finnick.

"Ow what so you matter more because romantic relationships are superior to everything else?" your sister yelled. "No of course not but I love her and we nearly died for each other!" Finnick responded. "Well I love her too and would've done the same for her!" Johanna said and you groaned. "God can the two of you fight over who loves me the most more quietly" and they both rushed over to you.

You quickly realised what they'd been arguing about as their shoulders knocked as they both tried to take the closest place next to you. "How are you feeling? Johanna asked and you frowned "strange, what happened?" and you looked to Finnick. He sighed "it was my fault, your injuries were worse than expected and there was a bite on your arm that needed stitches. The doctors think the blood loss mixed with everything you went through has thoroughly drained you so you might feel a little lifeless for a few days". "I'm sure I'll be fine after a good meal" you shrugged and tried to sit up before going pale at the effort. "Y/n hold on!" Finnick said and he helped you sit up, he moved you easily as if you were a doll and you felt as limp as one. It scared you a little and Finnick noticed. He took your hand and gave you a reassuring smile "hey don't worry, you're fine okay? Johanna and I are going to be here every day until you get better". Johanna took your other hand "we're not going anywhere, nurse Johanna is at the ready". That made you laugh and the two called a temporary truce seeing the sight they'd been hoping for.

"How are you?" you asked Finnick. You lifted your hand to his face with a frown as he had a lot of bruising there and around his neck. "Oh don't worry about me I'm fine" he smiled and you looked to Johanna for the truth. "He was in pretty bad shape too and has only been properly back on his feet since yesterday". Johanna went to say more but Finnick cut her off "I'll tell you it all later but for now...I just want to hear you speak" he smiled brushing some hair away from your face. You smiled "well all I want is to kiss you" and Finnick happily obliged (as Johanna rushed away, cursing you both). "We made it" you whispered happily and Finnick kissed your forehead "we sure did baby".

You spent all day with either Finnick or Johanna by your side and honestly, you couldn't be happier. They filled you in on what the world outside was doing but you didn't really care. Finnick talked about the plans he'd made to take you back to his district and to the beach house you'd discussed. "I know we didn't really properly sit down and think about it so I totally get if you don't actually want to live on the beach with me, we can work something else out" he said but you threw a tissue at him to get his attention. "I want the beach house with you Finnick. I want to come to your district with you" and his smile was like a warm sunrise on a summer's day.

It was lucky you had such nice memories because recovery was hard. Practically every part of your body ached and it was like you were having to learn how to do everything again for the first time. You couldn't sit up by yourself until the 3rd day and couldn't walk at all until a week later and even then you relied heavily on holding onto Finnick. The doctors steadily increased your food as they didn't want to suddenly rush your body with energy and fats so the progress was slow but steady. At times you felt so useless, like when you had to get Finnick to take you to the toilet or Johanna to help dress you. Neither of them minded of course but you struggled. When you were finally well enough to take a bath Finnick wanted to accompany you but that was just too much.

Finnick had gotten you into the tub but when you heard him coming to help you out, you practically threw yourself out and then couldn't get up again. When Finnick found you on the floor he was terrified. "Y/n are you okay? Why didn't you wait for me?". You pushed his kindness away just trying desperately to cover all of yourself with your towel. "Here let me help you" Finnick said but you pushed his hands away "no let me do it". "But I want to help you" Finnick said and you shook your head "I don't want you to". "Why?" he asked and you sighed tears forming "because I don't look good okay! My body is a wreck! I've lost so much weight, all my muscle is depleted and I look like a skeleton. There are ugly bruises all over me, scarring too and I look misshapen and swollen from being in a bed all the time. You can't see me naked until I've had a chance to work out and get back into shape". "Y/n you don't have to do anything to get your body ready for me to see it" Finnick said "I love you no matter how you look". "No you don't, you're just saying that to be nice" you said annoyed but Finnick didn't back down.

"I'm not being nice. I thought we were going to die so many times and then just when I thought we were safe you collapsed in my arms and I thought I'd lost you. The moment the doctor told me you were alive and breathing was the happiest moment of my life. It beat winning my own Hunger Games, the ending of the war, even falling in love with you so I don't care what you look like so long as you're here and healthy I will love every inch of you". "You're so soppy, you know that?" you asked him wiping away a tear and Finnick smiled. He picked you up and carried you back to your room in his arms. "I love you too" he told you and you chuckled, pleased he could translate angry moody Mason into plain English. He really was perfect for you.

After that, you didn't feel shy around Finnick anymore but you realised he was hiding things from you and that he wasn't as recovered as he said he was.

While you were sleeping one night he started shaking violently. You figured he was having a bad dream but he woke up with a yell and was panting as his hands shook and his fingers bent inwards at awkward angles, seemingly of their own volition. When it stopped, he collapsed against the bed, his forehead gleaming and you grabbed his arm "Finnick are you okay? I'm getting a doctor" and you rushed to do so but he grabbed you. "Y/n don't, they already know and I'm fine it's just one of the after-effects of the electric shock we got. My hands keep spasming and I struggle to grip things a little but Beetee thinks it should fade with time and if not I can do some physiotherapy to help". You frowned "is it painful?". From the grimace on his face you could tell the answer but he didn't want you to worry. "It's fine" he shrugged "just a little annoying at times, I just really hope it isn't permanent". You nodded feeling that deeply, if your hands were ruined you wouldn't be able to fight with an axe or defend yourself anymore. You'd feel so vulnerable and scared so you beckonned Finnick closer and hugged him. "Don't worry, your hands will get better and until then I'll cover for you. You can be my legs and I'll be your hands". Finnick chuckled "the perfect tag-team huh? Thanks Y/n" and wrapped in your arms, he didn't have any more spasms that night.

9 days after the end of the war you got a visitor and she wasted no time apologising for what she thought she'd done wrong. "I'm sorry we left you" Katniss said "down in the tunnels...you were just so far away I didn't think we could do anything for you" she told Finnick before turning to you "and I thought you went to go die with him" Katniss admitted. You nodded "well part of me did, we had a deal you see...but there's no hard feelings. Finnick and I did take off pretty quickly when those things first appeared". You shivered even just thinking about them and Finnick squeezed your hand. "We all just got to instinct at those moments and that's all you did" you said giving Katniss a small smile. She returned it but you could tell she wasn't feeling it. "I'm really sorry Katniss" you said and she didn't have to ask about what. "You don't have to say anything back" you told her "just know, we're here if you need anything" you said gesturing to Finnick and he nodded "any time".

You and Finnick were invited to President Snow's execution but neither of you wanted to go. You were now well enough to start making moves to District 4 so you and Finnick declined and planned your move. When President Coin heard your plans she called a meeting of all the victors in District 13 and told you her plans. You and Finncik were outraged at the idea of another Hungers Game and voted no immediately along with Peeta, Annie and Beetee. You managed to outnumber Johanna Katniss, Haymitch and Enobaria who voted yes. Coin relented there would be no hunger games but that Katniss could execute Snow. You and Finnick still had no interest in that and left 2 days later. You arrived in District 5 on the day of the execution and were preparing for the last part of your journey when you learned Katniss had killed Coin instead and everything was in chaos. The train was stopped and the captain asked what you wanted to do, go on to District 4 or head to the Capitol instead. Finnick did not take the news well.

"Why do I feel like we're never going to escape?" Finnick asked you, spiraling as his panic took over. "Every time we try to leave it's going to pull us back? There's no escape! Even now, even after it's all over they still find a way to drag us back. It never ends!". You shook your head and cupped his face "then screw it all! We don't play their game, we carry on as planned and let them work it out for themselves. We nearly sacrificed our lives for this and have done our time, we're finished and now it's our time". "We can do that?" Finnick asked and then he saw the look on your face. Finnick blinked and smiled. "Captain" he called "onto District 4 people, we're going home".

Later

You took to the beach life surprisingly well for a forest girl from District 7 and thank god you didn't burn in the sun because that would've been awkward.

When you and Finnick first got to District 4 you only had a shack on the beach but you actually didn't mind. Finnick had bought a plot of land away from the town so it could be just the two of you as promised and it was heaven. You had no idea what was going on in the world and neither of you cared. You spent each day wrapped up in one another and felt like you got to fall in love with him all over again.

After 2 months of bliss, you decided to start making a proper home, so you built a house! You had some knowledge of this being from a lumber district but Finnick really was popular and it felt like the entire population of District 4 came to help.

A year later you had your house on the beach. It was nothing grand like your Victor houses but you loved it and you loved Finnick. You'd worried after the excitement of war, when you settled into normalcy things between you would fizzle out but they didn't. It was Finnick Odair to be fair, things were never boring with him around and he always kept you occupied.

When he learned you weren't a super strong swimmer he made it his mission to teach you. Then he moved on to surfing and sailing and basically anything water-related. He was literally in his element in the water and you loved how happy he looked. His hands still sometimes bothered him and your hip had never quite fully recovered. Not to mention both of you still woke up with nightmares but you'd escaped and most importantly, you'd escaped together, Your life was the closest thing to heaven that existed as far as you were concerned.

About 2 years into your new life President Paylour contacted you and Finnick. They were prosecuting the members of the capitol who had abused the victors when they left the games and of course, the main Vicor they wanted to speak to was Finnick. You told him he didn't have to do anything, if he didn't want to re-live those memories and just wanted to move on then that was okay but he chose to see them put to justice. The second Finnick said that, you were all in recalling your promise to get justice for him.

You went to the capitol first, alone, to see what was required of Finnick and what the process would be. First, they needed an interview, where Finnick described key people and what they had done to him. You were of course there for his interview, holding his hand the entire time and telling them it was over when it was clear Finnick was done. He couldn't remember all the names but Feather had submitted his "little black book" voluntarily when he was arrested. All Finnick had to do was confirm the names. There were over 100 names in that book and Finnick said yes to most of them. It made you feel sick all over again but you sat up straight and kept your focus on Finnick. You held him extra closely that night and comforted him as he cried himself to sleep.

Months later there was a trial and they wanted Finnick to testify live. You objected to that strongly and vetoed it immediately. You'd seen the effect just the interview had on Finnick and weren't going to give the Capitol one last show. Instead, Finnick recorded some responses in the comfort of your own home and they projected them live.

You attended the trial as a witness to what the experience had done to Finnick as did some of the other Victors. It wasn't too hard preparing for the trial as you thought it might be. Sure it was tiresome and taxing but all you had to do was look at the people who had hurt Finnick and your motivation sprang back up. You gave your testimony with a perfect balance of emotion and composure. You looked those criminals in the eye when you told the judge you thought the highest punishment possible would be the only justice and cheered the loudest when it was passed. You were there when the sentences were carried out and then returned home to confirm for Finnick it was done. "Are they...is it done?" he asked. You nodded "the people who hurt you are gone, they can't do anything to anyone anymore" and you saw the weight melt off his shoulders. It took a few weeks for it to sink in permanently but finally, it clicked and Finnick was finally freed. You bought a puppy the week after, figuring Finnick needed an adorable distraction.

3 years later you and Finnick were still finding new things to do and were still as attracted to one another as ever. You were currently on the beach in the middle of the night because of Finnick. It didn't rain here often but it had tonight that made Finnick really excited! He demanded you both go out for a swim in the rain and you were going to protest that you'd get wet but realised that was the point. It was actually really nice to swim in the rain and you loved how only Finnick could get you to do these stupid things.

As you laid on the sand afterwards, you admired Finnick in the moonlight. You still thought he was the most beautiful man in the whole world and had quickly realised Finnick also suited the wet look very well. You had a sneaking suspicion that's why Finnick enjoyed getting you in the water with him so much but you didn't care. Shirtless or with a wet top plastered against his chest, he looked amazing every time and most of your swimming trips ended with the two of you pressed up against the sand together.

Tonight was exactly the same. Finnick saw the way you were looking at him and needed no more encouragement. He smelled and tasted like sea salt and

it had become your favourite taste over the years because of Finnick. Once the two of you had thoroughly tired yourselves out, you lay against the golden sand and just babbled in a happy exhausted manner.

"You know I think water boy suits you better than pitchfork boy or maybe seaweed boy?" you asked thinking about that time he went diving and came with tons of seaweed when you'd been expecting pearls. Finnick smirked "seaweed boy? I think I hate that more than pitch-fork boy". You smiled "wow that's extreme but yeah it doesn't quite suit you. Plus I think it's already taken". You couldn't remember who by but could've sworn you'd ready an old myth about a seaweed boy or was it a seaweed brain?

"So are you excited for tomorrow?" Finnick asked leaning over to you and you blinked "tomorrow?". After what Finnick had been doing you couldn't even remember what day today was. Finnick laughed "yeah tomorrow or I guess it's later today now, when your sister and all the other tributes are coming to visit?" he asked "and Katniss and Peeta are bringing little Prim for the first time...remember?". You smiled "it's ringing a bell, it'll be nice to see them. We haven't all been together like this since..." and you trailed off remembering. "When Coin asked us to go another Hunger Games" Finnick nodded "well this time, let's hope the topic won't be so depressing".

A lot had happened to the victors in the 5 years since President Snow had fallen but the districts all appointed new leaders and things were relatively stable. Annie had become mayor of District 4 which was mainly an honorary position for being a victor rather than an acting role but she loved her district and the people loved her too. Weirdly she'd become a friend to you and Finnick, you now smiled when you saw her and called out greetings to her in town.

Your sister Johanna was still in District 7, she'd been offered the honorary position too but declined of course. She never wanted the show and dance and instead got an ordinary position, helping organise and process trade operations. She didn't leave District 7 tons but had been spending more and more time with District 2's Ebobaria. She said they didn't want to label anything but you knew she was happy.

Seeing as all the tributes were pairing up, Haymitch claimed there must be something to it and said he should try his luck with Beetee but even as a joke, Beetee gave the man a sharp electric shock as a detterance. Luckily he just confessed his feelings to Effie instead. They were due to be married in the next Autumn and everyone was invited, hideous outfits a must of course.

Beetee was instrumental in coordinating all the districts and was now president of technological communications, aka he ran everything. It was what he deserved and he seemed happy so you all were too.

Katniss and Peeta were of course loved up, they married 2 years ago and their daughter whom they named Prim followed a year later. All of the victors had pretty much stepped away from the capitol and the new Panem to live out their lives quietly and so far nobody had tried to reap you for another games. So far, the new Panem was peaceful...well not too peaceful because it still had your sister Johanna in it.

"Oh yeah she never visits me anymore!" Johanna said "Finnick stole her away and never gave her back". Finnick shrugged "hey I don't have any restraints on her, she didn't want to be given back because she loved me and District 4 so much more than you!". Which led Johanna to argue you'd always be District 7 and the two bickered while you all watched happily. Your two favourite people were also the stupidest people ever and you loved that.

The argument eventually got physical and when you were coming back with a drink Johanna decided to stake her claim. "Mine!" Johanna cried jumping on your back and Finnick immediately jumped up. "Joahnna be careful...the baby!" Finnick called and everyone froze. Johanna shot away from like you were on fire and all the victors stared waiting for more. In response, you and Finnick looked at one another and then just burst out laughing.

"That was good babe" you called to Finnick and sank beside him. "I know" he smiled wrapping an arm around you and when you'd both stopped laughing you explained. "I'm not pregnant but you should see all your faces!". The group all groaned and Johanna hit you for lying. "Are you considering it though?" Peeta asked "starting a family?". You and Finnick looked at each other and shrugged "I'm not sure, babies were never something that appealed to me but then again I never thought I'd see the Mockingjay being a doting mother" you said nodding to Katniss who had little Prim in her arms. Katniss smiled "yeah me either, anything can change". Finnick nodded "exactly which is why we're not saying no definitely not but it's not on the top of our to-do list". You nodded leaning into his arm "I'm happy as we are right now, the dog and the beach are all I need....ow and Finnick of course" you said and they all laughed at your slip-up. "Afterthought huh? The man you love?" Finnick asked and you smiled because it felt nice to say you loved Finnick and really mean it. "The man I love" you repeated and you said it so sweetly Finnick couldn't even pretend to be mad at you.

"Do you want to be a father?" you asked Finnick as you lay in bed that night and he blinked thinking. "I don't know, I do quite like kids but I think after all we've been through I'd be terrified they were going to be reaped. That the Capitol would come back and punish us again". You nodded patting his arm "I think you'd be an amazing dad". Finnick looked at you in surprise "really?". You nodded "of course! Everyone loves you, you're kind, funny, beautiful...". "Stop it!" Finnick said pushing you and pretending to gush. "I can actually imagine you with a baby" you continued and Finnick paused. "I can see you sat with a little bundle on our porch, teaching them how to take their first steps on the sand, holding them in your arms in the ocean, reading them stories at night..." you said "I can picture it all". Finnick smiled and leaned over to you so he was hovering on top of you "well you know I can very easily make that a reality for you and I can make you enjoy every second of it". That of course sent shivers down your spine and you looked up at those beautiful blue eyes and wanted to just melt but you were a Mason, you were mischeaveous. "I think I might need some proof of that first, a taster if you will" you said and Finnick nodded "that is totally understandable, let me get to work".

Everyone left the next morning, after complaining about some weird noises echoing around the house in the middle of the night. You and Finnick made no apologies and saw everyone off with big smiles. As you watched hem go, all smiling, rested and happy you realised this would've been unthinkable just 6 years ago. If you went back in time and even tried to explain to your younger self just how good her future was going to be she would've laughed in your face and you wouldn't blame her! Your life with Finnick almost made everything you'd been through worth it and every day you were thankful you'd fought so hard to stay alive, just so you could be here. And the best news?

Your future with Finnick was only just getting started.

I only realised after I wrote this that Finnick and Y/n tried to ditch the group and then were the ones that got left behind lol.

Also, I'm a huge Percy Jackson fan and anytime Finnick used a trident or spear it made me imagine him as a son of Poseidon and I love that. Maybe I should headcanon the main characters as demigods or something...not long until the new TV show now and I AM SO EXCITED!

But back to Finnick. He's amazing and deserved so much better. So let's all just pretend he got to live on a beach with the love of his life yeah?

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Whumptober 2023

No. 24 Broken Alt Prompt

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Commonwealth (post series/no France era)

Warnings: Broken bones, suggestive/sexual themes

“Daryl!”

You made it to the piping that allowed you to climb down the side of the building. Your group had to scale up on the other side of the iron gate. There was no time to open it and the walkers were right on your heels. With only a narrow, unsturdy ledge to get you all across, you had to move swiftly and yet with care and precision. 

The structure started crumbling when half your group had made it but gave way beneath Daryl as he was above the gate. He clipped the gate but luckily fell onto the side clear of the undead. If you could really call anything that had just happened lucky. 

The archer was moving at least by the time you reached him, dragging himself away from the rotten fingers grasping at his clothes from through the bars. 

“Hey, hey. Don’t move too much. Let me take a look at you.” You dropped your bag as your knees hit the concrete, hands hovering over him frantically. “What hurts?”

“Be easier ta tell ya wha’ don’ hurt.” He carefully lowered himself onto his back, needing a moment to gather his bearings. “Leg.” He finally gritted out. You nodded and turned your body toward his lower extremities. The wound was easy to spot, a dark patch near the middle of his left shin. 

“Looks like you landed on something. Broke the skin. Let me see how bad it is and if we should pull it out.”

Daryl rose to his elbows, the rest of the group forming a protective circle around the two of you. When you cut a larger opening in his jeans to access the wound, your face paled. 

“Shit.” You whispered, wide eyes staring at the very obvious fracture that had broken through the skin. Daryl’s expression matched your own. 

“Please don’ pull tha’ out.” He joked with no real humor in his tone. 

“What’re we dealing with?” Aaron asked with a quick glance over his shoulder. Once he spotted your stricken expression, he turned fully and kneeled beside you. 

“Broken. Looks like tibia but fibula could be fractured as well.” You weren’t a doctor but living in the apocalypse meant that you had brushed up on your medical knowledge. Sometimes, field medicine was required and it was vital to know the name and importance of parts. 

“We jus’ gon’ sit here n’ stare at my leg or we gonna get me up n’ do wha’ we came here fer?” Daryl snapped. He never liked being the center of attention and, with all eyes on him, he was becoming increasingly antsy. 

“The only place you’re going is home. Tomi’s gotta set this.” You started to wrap the wound as tight as you could without sacrificing circulation, wincing when Daryl shot forward with a muttered curse. “Sorry.”

“We don’ need ta go back. I can—”

You stopped him with a gentle hand over his mouth, shocked that it actually worked, though his brows did draw inward. There was definitely a scowl behind your palm. “I know you can. That doesn’t mean you should.”

“She’s right, Daryl.” 

Knowing when to admit defeat when it came to you, the bowman let himself fall back to lie flat with a muttered “fine.” You smiled fondly and patted the thigh of his uninjured leg. 

“Think you can spare anyone to help us get back?” You asked Aaron, chewing your lip. There were so few of you on this mission as it was. 

“Don’t need no one else.” Daryl grumbled, twisting to get his good leg under him. “Gimme a hand, woman.”

“You’re gonna hurt yourself worse being a stubborn ass.” You scolded, but grabbed his outstretched hand anyway. With the help of you and his crossbow, he was able to get to his feet. Well… foot. You placed his arm over your shoulders and gave Aaron a shrug. “I guess it’s just us. Good luck. See you at home.” 

Daryl mumbled a goodbye and then you were on your way. 

“Hey, sleepyhead.” You smiled down at the archer, your fingers smoothing and brushing his long hair away from his face. The two day journey had been rough on his injury, signs of mild infection setting in before you were able to get him back to the Commonwealth. Tomi recommended sedation for setting the bone and cleaning up the wound. Daryl had voiced his displeasure but in the end— after some persuasion from you— he had relented. 

“Leg hurts like hell.” The archer grumbled, maneuvering himself a little further up on the pillows. He swatted at your hands when you tried to help him. His lower left leg was in a cast that descended past his ankle and onto his foot. You watched his already pinched expression morph into one of disgust. 

“Can’t move your ankle without affecting those bones.” You explained. 

“Can’ hunt with one foot.” 

“Oh, you’re not doing any hunting, mister.” Your expression softened when his shifted into something approaching mortification. “We’ve got other hunters, Daryl. Think of this as a vacation.” You turned to grab the water glass from the table. 

“Fer how long?” 

Offering him a drink, you mumbled an inaudible response. He didn’t need to say a word, the flared nostrils and arched brow were enough. “Three or four months.” You winced. 

“Ya gotta be shittin’ me!” He snapped, not at all interested in the water you were offering him. 

“It was a bad break, Daryl.” 

“No shit.” His hands were over his face now, his muscles tense and breathing irregular. You hated to see him like this. Independence was important to Daryl but so was the need to carry his own weight around the community. He was losing both in one fell swoop. 

“It won’t be that bad, you know.” Your fingers wrapped around his wrists and he allowed you to lower his arms before he gave you the most pitiful pout you had ever seen. “You’ll see.”

You moved everything downstairs with the help of Carol and Aaron, turning your living room into a bedroom for the time being. Judith and RJ pitched in with cooking and cleaning, under your watchful eye, of course. 

Daryl was in a sour mood the day he was released to go home. The crutches were difficult to get used to, his leg ached, and he hated the looks people gave him as he hobbled by. He always felt inferior but those looks, to him, confirmed it. 

“Welcome home, Uncle Daryl!” The kids cheered as they threw open the door with Carol right behind them. The corner of his mouth twitched up the slightest bit and he nodded, begrudgingly accepting your help to step up over the threshold. You shared a look with Carol once he had headed through, her hand coming up to squeeze your shoulder. 

When Daryl saw the living room, he visibly deflated, shoulders slumping and head lowering. Carol hugged him from the side and tucked his hair behind his ear. 

“It’ll be okay.” She said quietly. “Okay, kids! Upstairs for homework! Then wash up for dinner!” Rubbing Daryl’s back for a moment longer, she smiled at you. “I’m going to finish up in the kitchen while you get him settled.” 

“Thank you.” You nodded. Daryl maneuvered around to the front of the couch, waiting while you followed so you take the crutches and help him sit down. You were quick to set the equipment aside in favor of helping him get his leg up and stretch out. You grabbed a pillow from the mattress on the floor and placed it against the couch arm so he could lie back. “Comfortable?” You crouched down and rubbed a hand up and down his sternum. 

“Mhm.” His expression was hardly convincing. You sighed and stood, bending to press a kiss to the crown of his head. “I’m gonna help Carol with dinner. Call for me if you need anything.” He nodded again, not meeting your eyes. You gave him one last glance before stepping out of the room. 

“He’ll be okay, Y/N.” 

“I know. I just hate seeing him like this.” You stared back toward the doorway, knowing Daryl was battling inwardly just beyond where you could see. You could only pray he’d settle and allow himself to rest and heal. 

A couple of days passed with you and Daryl settling into a routine. He did things around the house that he could. He rinsed and dried dishes you washed, leaning on one crutch or the countertop. He sat with the kids while they did homework and helped where he could. He made sure the kids got out the door on time for school and welcomed them home afterward. 

Honestly, anything that kept him out of bed or on the couch, he would try to do. You didn’t stand in his way unless he started showing signs of pain. After two days, it was getting a little better, easier to get by without pain medication around the clock. The constant throb had dulled to an ache. 

“You want something for lunch?” You asked, leaning over the back of the couch. Daryl’s eyes opened, his head tilting back to find you smiling down at him. 

“M’okay, thanks.” 

Your fingers busied themselves combing through his hair and scratching lightly over his scalp. You swore you could hear him start to purr. When his eyes closed, you hopped up to teeter on the back of the couch, pressing your lips to his. 

“You know, I can think of a few things you can do that don't require moving from that spot.”

Daryl opened his eyes and laughed as an exhale through his nose. “Oh yeah? S’that?” His smile remained as you comically wiggled back to get your feet onto the floor. 

Rounding to stand in front of him, you smiled with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. “It might even make you feel better.” You threw your leg over him and sat to straddle his hips. His hands came to rest on your sides, just below your ribs. 

“Think s’workin’ already.” Pressing the heel of his good foot into the cushions, he lifted his hips and ground up into you. 

You hummed approvingly. His hands were warm under yours while you guided him to the hem of your shirt. “I can’t seem to take this off by myself. Think you could help me out?”

“Don’ know, Sunshine. Seems like a helluva hassle.” You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled forth as he sat up, your shirt pushed up to your collarbone so he could press his mouth to the valley of your breasts. His fingers had just begun to tinker with the clasp of your bra when there came a knock at your door. 

You both glared in the direction of the entryway, Daryl growling in annoyance. 

“Ignore it.” He huffed, going back to what he was doing. 

“Wait, wait!” As much as you hated to put a damper on his good mood, “what if it’s about the kids?” The archer stilled and sat back. His shoulders dropped and he muttered a curse, jerking his chin toward the door. 

“G’on.” 

You adjusted your shirt and climbed off, shuffling quickly toward the door. When you opened it, you couldn’t stop the bewilderment in your expression. “Can I, um, help you?”

“Hi! I’m sorry to bother you. My name is Elizabeth.” The middle-aged woman shifted her weight from foot to foot, one hand fiddling with the covered baking pan in her arms. “I heard that Mr. Dixon got hurt. I’m real sorry.”

“It’s appreciated but he’s gonna be fine.” You smiled sincerely. “Just taking some time to heal up.”

“I heard.” Elizabeth nodded. “Anyway, back in the spring, when the hospital had the shortage, Mr. Dixon—”

“Please,” you interjected with a soft chuckle, “call him Daryl.”

Elizabeth looked a little uncertain but nodded regardless. “Daryl went out to find the antibiotics my son needed.”

“You’re Peter’s mom.” You remembered what she was talking about. Ezekiel had set up a council meeting to designate a group run. Daryl knew that the kid had been given a death sentence if antibiotics weren’t started within hours. He went out immediately, with only you having the knowledge that he had left. There were only a few places to raid that had previously been marked as too dangerous without a sizable group. He had returned, bloodied and bruised, but with enough antibiotics for several doses. “I hope he’s doing okay now.”

“He’s back to terrorizing his teacher and I. Thanks to Mr. D— I mean, Daryl.”

You felt tears threatening to gather and took a deep breath through you nose before smiling. “I’ll let him know how your kiddo is doing. He’ll be glad to hear it.”

“Oh! Well, I brought this. It’s not much and I had to compromise on some ingredients but it is good.” Elizabeth had no more than peeled back the edge of the towel and your mouth watered. 

“Lasagna. Wow! It's been a minute.” Putting out your hands to take the pan, you smiled brightly, excited to tell Daryl. “He’s going to be pretty damn happy.” You chuckled. 

“He’s the reason I still have my son. When I heard he was hurt, I just had to do something.” Your heart clenched and there were those damn tears again. “Anyway, please thank him for me and wish him a speedy recovery. Thank you, Mrs. Dixon.”

“Oh, I’m—”

“Have a good day!” 

“You…too.” You closed the door with a shrug, taking the pan to the kitchen. You couldn’t seem to dismiss the fluttering in your stomach induced by Elizabeth’s misconception. You placed the dish in the oven to warm later. It’d be a nice dinner for you, Daryl, Carol, and the kids. There wasn’t enough for you all to have much but sharing was something you had all perfected over the years. “Daryl, you’ll never guess who was—” 

He was already balanced in his elbow, waiting for you to finish your statement when you looked toward the entryway after another knock. 

“The hell could tha’ be?”

You shrugged and returned to the door, pulling it open only to find yet another person with an offering and story of appreciation for Daryl. You had no more than thanked them and put the cookies away when there came another knock. 

And another. 

And another. 

And another. 

You finally found time in between guests to explain things to Daryl. He had stared at you in disbelief, eyes shining, but before you could reassure him, there came another knock. You patted his cheek affectionately and continued your endless journeys between the door and the kitchen. 

The kids came home and started to help. Judith assisted RJ with putting away main courses and side dishes. Freezing things that could be and refrigerating what needed it. It was just around dusk when the last knock came. You heard the story and thanked them on Daryl’s behalf, smiling as you closed the door and leaned against it. 

When you returned to the kitchen this time, Daryl was in the doorway with his crutches, watching with an unreadable expression as the kids moved around to put the items away. 

“Ya were serious then?” He asked quietly. 

You snorted. “Not something I’d lie about, Dixon.”

He nodded, his brow creasing. “Don’ help people so they do stuff fer me when shit happens.”

“I know that. So do they.”

He nodded again, this time with a sniff. “Okay.” He positioned his crutches and left for the living room again. You didn’t let him know you had seen the tear fall. You just smiled toward where he had been standing and then continued to help the kids. 

After lasagna, you gave Daryl a break and sat with Judith and RJ for homework time, then sent them to bed with promises of a board game over the weekend. By the time you crawled onto the mattress by the fire, finding Daryl already there— you’d let it slide this time that you knew he needed help and probably made his leg hurt— and staring up at the ceiling. 

On your side to face him, you rubbed your hand over his bare bicep. “Penny for your thoughts.” His eyes slid to the corner to look at you and then back to the obviously more interesting ceiling. 

He cleared his throat. “Jus’, uh… jus’ wonderin’ why them folks went ta all tha’ trouble.”

Your smile was sad this time. “Because you’re important to this community. They care about you.”

“Y’mean they care ‘bout the things I do.”

“No. I don’t.” Sitting up, you turned to sit on your hip. “Why is it so hard to think that people genuinely care about you?”

“Y’know why.” He countered dryly. 

You nodded. “You’re right. I do. I just thought that after all these years, you’d gotten past that.” He sighed, lifting an arm to lay it across his eyes. “You’ve done so much for these people, Daryl. You’ve shown what a good man you are. You’ve earned your place here. You’ve become one of them. And they have grown to care about you; about all of us.”

He moved his arm again, resting it on his chest. “Ya really think so, don’tcha?”

“I know so.” You stated matter-of-factly. He hummed, seeming to mull over your words. When he didn’t say anything else, you crawled over, successfully closing the gap between you. “I think you have some things you were supposed to do for me, Mr. Dixon.”

The corner of his mouth raised into a half-smile. “Ya gonna make me lasagna after I do stuff fer ya?”

“Depends on how well you do it.” You had already bent down to press your lips to the side of his neck while your palms caressed his chest and abdomen. 

“That sounds almos’ like a challenge, Mrs. Dixon.”

There was a smile against his skin. “Heard that part, huh?”

“Maybe.” His large hands grabbed your hips to guide you onto his lap. “I think I liked the sound of it.”

“Are you asking me to marry you?” Your head was tilted while your finger traced shapes over his sternum. He chuckled. 

“Not yet. Ain’t no fun if’n ya know it’s comin’.” He reached to brush his knuckles down your jaw. You let your eyes flutter closed and leaned into the touch. “Would ya say ‘yes’?”

You hummed, leaning down to capture his lips, gently working your mouth over his for but a moment. “Ain’t no fun if’n ya know what I’d say.” You had lowered your voice and tried to rasp each word. 

“Guess we’ll jus’ hafta be surprised then, huh?” He pushed up your shirt, urging you to remove it. You quickly obliged and tossed it somewhere outside the light of the fire. You unhooked the clasp of your bra and allowed it to join your shirt. 

“Guess so.” His hands immediately found your breasts, rolling your hardened nipples between thumb and forefinger. “Now, let me show you how I say thank you.”

He full on laughed, a sound you didn’t hear often enough but cherished just the same; hearty and warm. “Yes, ma’am.”

[brighttears]

Cleardune Chapter 4: The Big, the Bad, and the Ugly

Joel Miller x f!reader

no physical description, no use of y/n

Summary: You wake up in Joel’s bed, barely making it home in time to serve breakfast. It’s a great start to your morning, but a conversation between Joel and Winona at the bar fades it into hurt when you’re reminded that he’s not staying in town. Still, you can’t help but agree to see him tonight. In the moonlight, you have a more vulnerable conversation. By the end of the night, you feel a bit better. 

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: the usual pet names (darling, sweet thing, sweetheart, sweet girl,pretty girl, little lady; honey pie, girlie, honey, doll, and baby by a friend, not Joel), pining, explanation of reader’s mother’s death (illness), reader’s mother was involuntary primiparous, talk of violence

A/n: a little bit of 4 pain today...

Series masterlist

—

“Darlin’,” comes a soft voice just a bit outside of your reach of consciousness, matched with a strange, featherlight sensation somewhere on your face. All you can muster in response is something between a sigh and a moan, much too little sleep shuttering you incognizant. A pocket of warmth finds your cheek, and a recognized familiarity moves your body towards it. A chuckle rumbles in your ears, and a soft pressure around you is what finally wakes you up. 

“What?” You let out softly, starting to open your eyes while your arms move on their own accord, grabbing at the figure with its arm already draped around your side. You squint, daylight streaming right into your face from the unshaded window, but you can make out that smile of his, the sight fluttering contentment through your chest. 

“Hate to wake you, sweet thing, but good thing I did, cause we forgot to take you back to your bed last night, right upstairs from where I think you’re supposed to be real soon.” 

You squint at him, sleepy bewilderment on your brow as you process, now propped up above him, one leg entwined with his and your hands resting lazily on his shoulders. The gears turn for a moment, stopped up by the gummy distraction of Joel’s body under yours, his sleepy smile and sleepier eyes under the most charming bedhead. 

Finally, you realize, “The saloon,” and stumble off of him, planting your feet haphazardly on the floor, attempting to catch your bearings and find your pants. 

Joel chuckles behind you, getting up much slower to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“My fault, I should have taken you home last night.”

“‘S okay,” you reply, trying to blink yourself awake as you finally find your jeans and tug them on before searching on your hands and knees for your shoes. He chuckles again, stretching while you shove your feet into the shoes that had been kicked under the bed. When you finally stand, facing the door bleary eyed, his hands turn you by your waist to face him. “Aw, you’re not even awake yet.” His tone is guilty, “You’re gonna be slouched over the bar all damn day. I’m sorry, sweetheart.” You hum, almost unthinkingly brushing your palms over his cheeks, met by the apples perking up with his smile before he whispers, “You just keep gettin’ prettier.” You hum again, almost unsure whether or not this is a dream. 

It’s a sudden shift from your daydreams and longings to actually being in Joel’s arms, having your hands on him, and then, his lips on yours. Automatically, you lean into him, keeping his face cupped in your hands. That same sensation of visceral comfort and thirst melts through your brain, and you can’t let him go. It must be real, because a feeling like this would surely be enough to wake you, so you finally pull away to take him in again.  

“Sweet girl.” He whispers, rubbing your side, and as soon as the words leave his lips, you fall against him into an embrace, lazily sliding yourself into his lap. After a few moments of that honeyed pressure, he pulls back. “You better get going now ‘fore your pa notices you’re not where you’re s’pposed to be.”

You blink. “Shit.” Joel laughs. Reluctantly but with haste, you leave his arms to rush for the doorknob. 

“Darlin’,” he calls behind you, and you turn once again to your blouse held out in his hand, an almost cheeky smile on his face.

“Good lord.” You mutter to yourself, shoving your arms through it and then starting on the buttons.

“Good lord is right, sweet thing, you’re a mess this morning.” Joel chuckles, lowering your hands gently to redo the mismatched buttons you’d gotten together. You watch him in a daze, partly from the lack of sleep, partly just from the sight of him there, sitting on the bed, naked, with his fingers buttoning you up just over your chest, a soft, amused smirk on his lips. 

“Thank you,” you mumble, eyes stuck on him. When he looks up, there’s the sweetest look in his eyes, and he leans a small peck to your lips. “Now get, girl.” He smirks, turning your hips again and slapping your ass, pushing a small squeak out of you. Throwing a glance at him, you chuckle, almost a giggle, then finally find your way out of the room. 

Once outside, you squint in the sun, trying to figure out the time. The sun tells you that you have maybe an hour until you need to be behind that bar; just enough time to throw yourself upstairs, in a dress, and get some sort of breakfast together. Thank god Joel did wake you when he did, because you’re not sure how your father would react to two late meals in a row. 

There hasn’t been a reason to lose this much sleep in years, so you’re not at all used to it, making sure to concentrate on the buttons of your dress, before throwing eggs in a pan and trying not to accidentally slam the kettle on the burner. You force your eyes to widen, keeping the lids from drifting near closed as you saw uneven slices of bread, adding a little too much butter. 

Just as the plates are landing on the table, your father rounds the corner, leaning his arm on the doorframe before dropping into his chair. As soon as you look at him, you can tell he’s hungover. 

You clear your throat, trying not to let your grogginess show as you greet him, “Morning.”

“Morning.” He mumbles.

At the table, you shove eggs and bread in your mouth, heart sinking as you sense the fact that you’ll probably be at the bar until it closes. What an ideal day for that, you think to yourself, noticing the inefficient way your hand moves to loop around the ear of your mug to pour coffee down your throat. 

Usually, there would be at least a few words over breakfast—a list of chores, an update on what liquors you’re running low on, but it’s silent this morning. Your father’s state almost makes you think that maybe he regrets his behavior yesterday, that maybe he didn’t really mean all those things he said, that that’s the reason he got drunk enough to be leaned over the table as he is now. But even if you're right, there’s no chance in hell he’ll apologize. Knowing that it doesn’t actually change anything, whether he regrets it or not, you shove the hope out of your mind. Regardless of his thoughts, he still treats you as he does, and you’re not waiting around for him to change. 

It surprises you that you’re able to look at him at all without crying or inwardly flinching at least. But somehow, you feel a sort of freedom, knowing the truth. That he doesn’t care about you. 

And, well, now you do have someone who cares about you, his memory currently highlighted by a soreness between your legs. 

By far, that was the best sex you’ve ever had, and you can’t get it out of your head, hiding the hotness of your cheeks behind your mug at the memory of his breathy voice in your ear. 

The few times you’ve fooled around in the past, it was basically silent, other than maybe a groan or exhale of air right before they left a mess on your stomach that they never bothered to help clean up. None of those boys lasted more than a minute or two, and it was ultimately less than satisfying. Joel, however… it felt like hours, and you were writhing underneath him for most of it, cumming harder than you have even by your own trusty hand. The kissing, the moaning, the feel of his hand on your skin, the taste of his spit in your mouth, the gentle pressure in your stomach with each bump he made. Unrivaled, pioneering, earth shattering, even, really. 

You’re hooked, more than doomed. It almost makes you feel shallow, the fact that last night made you fall harder for him, but it’s not just how good it was, but how safe and cherished he made you feel. It was tender, loving—exactly as you suspected, you realize. Joel Miller is truly a dream come true. And how lucky you feel, to have had this angel walk through the doors of this very saloon right beneath you. Kismet is the word you decide to land on. The only prayer you have left is that he feels the same. 

Pa has already finished breakfast while you daydream, the squeal of his chair knocking you out of it as he gets up to head straight back into his room. “Finish up quick,” he mumbles without even a glance, “folks are thirsty.” 

Once he’s out of sight, you blow out a breath, dreading the long day ahead of you.

—

Henry is already ready and waiting, head bowed at the bar. Reminding you of your epic grogginess, you overpour his glass, quickly swiping your rag over the mess with a small “Pardon.”

“I ain’t complaining.” The weathered old man cackles, deep and ragged as he noisily sips the extra off the top. You snort a chuckle, cracking a smile. Being out of your father’s presence always makes you feel a tad bit lighter, today mix with your morning-after glow. 

It’s not long until the bar is alive—this dead-end town’s standard of alive, that is, only the regulars filling a couple tables along with Bo’s weak attempt at spiriting background piano. Today, however, there’s the pleasant surprise of Winona Stowe, the plump woman’s eyes trained on you as she waltzes in with a knowing smile on her lips. It’s rare to see her here, but you think you know what the occasion is today. 

“Just a beer, love.” She tells you as she slides onto a stool, keeping that smile. Your returning smile is shy, hoping to god you were quiet enough last night behind the walls separating your wild night from Winona’s ears. “Nice to see you again.” She smirks. 

“Nice to see you again, too.” You respond quietly, wringing your hands together under the bar. You do trust her fully, the woman that’s always been almost like an aunt to you, but it’s still a bit embarrassing to be seen being nearly dragged into a room by a cowboy who only rolled into town less than a week ago. 

“Don’t worry,” she assures you, “I ain’t here to rat you out or shame you or nothin’ like that, honey pie. Seems to be a good man, that one. Sweet n’ polite and clean, always there for some chit chat mornin’ and evenin’. Kind and gentle, which is the only kind of man you deserve, girlie.” Despite the bashfulness of your smile, you take in her words with true appreciation. You already know he’s a good man, but it’s nice to have that affirmed by her. 

“Thank you.” You glance around before leaning closer. “I think so too.” Lower your tone, you whisper, “I really like him, Winona. I really do.”

She chuckles warmly. “I can tell, baby. Never seen you let someone pull you around like that, let alone smiling and blushing like you were. But, honey,” she leans in, “I know you don’t wanna hear this, but that man’s only passing through.”

Looking down, your tone echoes the fall of your heart. “I know.”

“Honey, baby,” she continues, voice offering solace as she leans in further to catch your gaze, “I’m telling you, too, to enjoy it. Hold onto what you got, which is a good thing, trust me.”

You nod. “Yeah.” 

“Really, doll. He ain’t gone yet. You still have ‘im.”

You nod again, forcing your lips up into a small smile.

Just as she’s giving you another reassuring nod, you hear those spurs coming with the creaking gate of the saloon, and look up to see a wide smile walking through them. A near grin raises on your face as you straighten, hearing Winona chuckle. 

“Morning.” Joel tips his hat, sitting down next to her. 

“Morning.” Winona smiles back, that knowing lilt in her voice, and Joel bows his head to hide a blush that makes you feel almost smug. 

“Whiskey?” You question, already grabbing a glass as he replies with, “Yes, ma’am.”

“And how are you doing this fine Wednesday morning, Joel?” His seated neighbor basically teases. 

“Mighty well, I’d say.” He smirks back, then winks at you. Cheeks blazing, you turn around to straighten the bottles on the shelf as the two continue to converse.

“And how’s Petunia?”

“Right as rain, ma’am, appreciating the rest here in Cleardune.” “I’m sure she is, we’ve got pretty a free and easy town here, plenty of room to relax.” “You can say that again. Last town I was in, made out after only two days on account of the unfriendlies that slid through right behind me.”

“Yep,” Winona nods, sipping her beer, “we’re lucky, seemed to have kept our town a bit under wraps. Haven’t even had a gun even go off here in, what, couple years ya think, baby?”

“Yes,” you glance back to them, “I’d say so.” Internally, you begin to feel a little ungrateful, having only really ridiculed the calmness of your hometown. 

“I reckon it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to extend your stay, Joel, maybe even take up a plot.” Winona continues, raising her brow at him. 

“Well,” Joel looks down at the glass he fiddles with on the bar, “I don’t know about all that, now.” 

Your shoulders slump.

“Well,” Winona sighs, “maybe you’ll change your mind.”

They chat for a while longer, you keeping yourself busy with your back turned for most of it, until Winona finishes off her beer and is back off to the inn. Joel has only done a couple sips off of his whiskey, watching you as you try to find things to do. 

This morning’s glee has faded, and your lack of sleep has given way to some testiness. You hate to have a mood like that around him, but you can’t help it, stuck again on the idea of him just toying with you, teasing you by making you feel so much just to leave you hanging. 

“Hey, darlin’,” he calls quietly after a while of mutual silence, “will I see you at the barn tonight?”

Your indisputable and apparently undaunted longing for him, mixed with lingering confidence in Winona’s words to you earlier, denies your urge to brush him off. You nod, though barely smiling. He surveys your expression for a moment before nodding back, then looks down to  softly reply, “Well, I’ll see you then.” 

He hangs around for only a few more moments before tipping his hat and making his leave. Once he’s gone, you plant your elbows on the bar and stick your hands in your hair, heart aching. 

—

As suspected, you’re there until close, shutting it down just as dusk starts to set in, having not seen your father once, even when you took your pauses to serve dinner and supper. You’re sluggish as you close up, rag basically dragging over the counter as you finish up that last duty, blue and navy the only colors left in the sky by now. Honestly, you’d like to go straight to bed, but no way could you break your promise to meet with Joel. Not bothering to change or even sneak, you head straight through the saloon doors to head to the barn. 

He greets you with a smile, walking to meet you at the barn doors. As soon as he’s close enough, he reaches out for you, running warm hands up and down your sides. “Evening, sweet thing.” He smiles. 

“Hey.” is your simple reply, barely able to smile or meet his eyes. 

His hands slow, worry briefly pinching his brow. “You alright?”

“Tired,” you sigh, forcing a smile.

“I’ll bet you are.” He chuckles softly, brushing your sides again. You study his face. There's a tinge of worry and question in his eyes, and you feel guilty, but it’s shrouded by remaining resentment. Though they threaten your tongue, you don’t dare ask the questions swirling in your head. 

Are you really going to leave me? How many more nights do I have left with you? Would it be kinder for you not to even say goodbye? Will you someday just become a distant dream? How could you do this to me? How could you leave me? 

Instead, all you do is lean into him, grasping the leather on his back as you fall into an embrace. 

In his arms, you close your eyes, and hold him a little bit tighter. If this is all you get, then there's nothing you can do but be with him now. You breathe in, trying to pick out and take in every different bit of his scent, feeling the cool leather against your cheek, his breath rising and falling against your chest, his hand combed through your hair as it cups the back of your head. 

Suddenly, there are tears in your eyes. Heart thrumming, you keep yourself locked against him, not wanting him to see; it would spark a conversation that would hurt too much. When his lips press against your hairline, you squeeze your eyes tighter, then swipe the wetness from your cheeks over his jacket when he pulls away. 

“If you’d like to go right on home to bed,” he says softly, “a goodnight kiss is just fine with me, darlin’.” He smiles warmly, eyes soft with a contented look in them that only makes your heart ache more. If he's looking at you like this, could you really mean so little to him that he’s going to just up and leave? The uncertainty only pulls more pain from your chest, and you simply can’t deal with it any longer tonight. 

But at the same time, and for the same reason, for the sake of the same pain, you can’t bring yourself to leave him for the night. 

“No.” You answer quietly. 

“Ok.” He replies just as quiet, fingers running softly up and down your back. “Stars are quite nice out tonight with the crescent givin’ them some air. Wanna come watch em’ with me?”

As if you could resist. 

With your backs against the barn in the back pen and your feet pointed straight out towards the dark sky, hole punched with twinkling stars, Joel stretches his legs out, crossing his ankles and turning his head to you. “So,” he starts, “I gotta know more about you. What’s your story, sweet thing?”

“Well…” you look down, discouraged by how boring your life has been compared to what his must be. “Like I said, I’ve been in this town my whole life.”

“And? That can’t be the whole story. What’s your family like?”

“Um,” you swallow. You don’t talk about her much. You haven’t had much of a reason to—everyone here already knows, and people that pass through never ask. Not that it hurts much anymore, it’s just so strange to talk about it, about how long it’s been. “It’s just my pa and I, because, my mother got sick when I was 10. She was gone within a month. And I’m an only child—I wasn’t supposed to be, but, I am.”

Joel looks down and pauses, before gentling his tone. “I’m sorry. Both my parents are gone. Well, they didn’t die before they were… supposed to, so… just… I know what loss is like.” You nod, hoping he won’t ask about the last bit, but after a pause, he does. Not that you can really blame him. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place, but it is part of your story, and you want him to know you. “What do you mean you weren’t supposed to be an only child?” He asks.

“I was the first they had, but they wanted more. Wanted sons. But they just got me.”

“Still lucky enough, I’d say.”

You look at him with a questioning quirk between your brows. “How do you reckon that?”

“Well, they got you.” He smiles, and, shy, you chuckle and look back down, fiddling with a strand of grass. 

“I ain’t jokin’, sweetheart.” You hear his smile. 

“Well, that’s kind of you to say.” Much too shy to encourage more of that with silence, you change the subject, looking back at him again. “What about you? Where’d you leave from? Originally.”

“Ah,” Joel turns his gaze upwards, searching the stars, “came from a town way down south. Left ‘bout 10 years ago.”

“How come?”

“I had a ranch there with my little brother, Tommy. He met a woman, wanted to marry her, start a family. Soon as he decided that, the house was rightfully his.” He shrugs, and you catch a light smile on his lips at the memory. “I’ve gone back to visit a few times, he’s got two boys, both real bright, and a beautiful daughter.” He chuckles, “Beautiful, bright, and badass, that little girl is.”

You smile, but the question tugs, “Why not stay close by?”

“Well, I was on that ranch for a long time before all that. Wouldn’t say I ever grew to hate it, but I did get tired of it. Needed somethin’ new, went lookin’, and realized that I prefer the open country.”

“Freedom, right?” You assume, looking ahead at the expanse beyond the pen’s picket fence, mostly flat land except for one big mesa that you’ve daydreamed about crossing over for years, tonight with a crescent moon crown. 

Joel shrugs, “A kind of freedom, yeah.”

“A kind?”

“Well, freedom for travel, yeah. Can go anywhere you damn well please any time you damn well please, just about. But you’ll never find freedom from yourself.”

Looking back at him, you smirk. “That makes you sound so tortured.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Nah, it’s not like that. Jus’… I dunno.” Glancing at you, he pauses. “Not very good with words, I’m afraid.”

His answer is disappointing, both because you’re wildly curious at what that could mean in general, as well as just in him. What’s more disheartening rather than disappointing, though, is the idea that he might just not want to tell you. Looking back at the ground, you decide not to push, instead replying, “That’s alright.”

“Yeah,” he returns, “I know.” You look up to meet a smirk, “Everythin’s alright with you.”

Puzzled, you question, “What do you mean?” 

“Just is.”

“Just is?” Is he really bad with words, or is he just hiding from you again? Is he calling you passive? Or is he just… comforted by you?

“Just is.” He leaves it at that, which is frustrating, but you can’t be mad with the fond smirk he looks at you with, eyes, shadowed dark, flicking over your face. A smile forces its way onto your lips, and you look down, picking a long strand of grass to roll between your fingers. 

It’s quiet for a moment, and you ponder his words, and everything he won’t tell you. 

“So,” you start, challenging him gently, “you’ve only really told me funny stories about out there. But you told me it’s dangerous. How do you keep yourself alive?” You pause, then add quietly, unsure if the honest question will offend him, “Do you… just run?”

Joel sighs, tilting his head back and forth. “Sometimes. When I need to. Not all the time.” He pauses. “I do what I have to.”

You huff, the words falling out of you before you have time to reel them in, “You keep being so vague.” In his pause, you swallow. 

“I’m sorry, sweet thing.” He sighs, shaking his head. “Don’t mean to make myself sound so dishonest.”

Quietly, watching his profile as his eyes roam over the glittered horizon, you reply, “You won’t be poisoning me if you tell me the truth.” 

After a pause, he sighs again, finally looking back at you, eyes studying your face. Then he turns them back down, lowering his voice. “I’m not worried about that. ‘M worried about poisoning myself in your eyes.”

This makes you turn yourself to him, taking his jaw in your hand. “You won’t.” You whisper. “…I understand that there’s things I’ve never seen, never had to see. But I’ve known people with blood on their hands. There’s no love lost.” You pause at the word, but push past it, trying—hopefully not in vain—to avoid suspicion. “If you were some trigger happy lunatic or something,” this pulls a chuckle out of him, and therefore out of you as well, “it would be different. But, I know that you gotta do what you gotta do. I understand that. It won’t make me think any less of you.” You pause again. “I trust you. I’m asking you to trust me.”

Joel reaches his hand to brush his knuckle down to your jaw. “I do trust you.” His voice is gentle and soft, and flowers bloom in your chest. “I haven’t been this close to someone in a long time.”

A breath pushes out of your lips. “Really?”

He nods. “I’m not used to it.” He pauses. “It’s nice, with you.” With you. There’s a long pause, his finger still dragging over your cheek, then he chuckles. “‘S not like I’ve done all that much. It’s jus’…” you can see in his eyes the temptation to pull away again, but he resists, though he flicks his gaze to the ground and drops his hand from your cheek. You keep yours on his. “I’ve shot men. That’s the worst I’ve done, though; no more than I can count on one hand and no one that didn’t have it comin’. But that’s a common fact of life, might have to take a man’s life once in a while, as sad as it is.”

He’s right. You’ve seen people get shot in Cleardune, though it’s been a while. There have been groups of wrongdoers that stroll into town and stir up trouble, but that’s what the sheriff and his pistol is for. Some people like blood too much. And other people have to stop them from spilling any more. Sometimes it needs to be done. 

“I’ve talked my way out of things,” he continues, “I’ve run when I’ve had to, I ain’t no coward, I’ve never kneeled. Lots of funny stories to tell, but lots of ugly ones, too. It’s a way of life, you gotta learn it. And I have. And it’s been 10 years,” Joel chuckles, looking back at you, “and seein’ a I’ve got no holes in me, have all my fingers and toes, and can still sleep soundly at night, I’d say I’ve done a damn good job. I avoid getting blood on my hands. But you can’t hide away from death out there. He is the one true constant.”

You nod, speaking softly. “I understand. I’ve seen people shot.” In his eyes, you can tell he wasn’t expecting to hear that. “This is a quiet town, and like Winona said, it’s been a while, but we’ve had shootouts. And I’ve been there, next to the table, laying my hands down over a wound while someone gets needle and thread ready. I’ve never shot a gun, never stared down the barrel of one, but I know what they can do.”

After a moment, he slowly grows a small smile. “You’re tougher than I gave you credit for, little lady.” 

You smile back. “You can count on that. You think I’ve never ran into trouble, all those years I’ve spent behind that bar? Drunk men will be drunk men.”

Joel chuckles, nodding, “Drunk men will be drunk men.” Turning his head down, he smiles, then looks back up at you with a readying sigh. “So, what kind of unfunny story would you like, darlin’? Big, bad, or ugly?”

Suddenly realizing what you’ve gotten yourself into, you reply, “Big. When we have more time, the bad and the ugly.”

Joel chuckles. “Good choice.”

The story is of an epic shootout, complete with an underdog, runaway horses, and two scars—one bullet grazing over his bicep, the other a couple inches from a swiped blade right above his belt. As your finger dances over it, it’s almost hot, so long as you push the image of blood out of your mind. His warm chuckle helps, then, too, as does his hand over your thigh. 

“Well, you satisfied, little lady?” Joel’s voice is soft and low, and, at the look in his eyes and the smile on his lips when you peer up at him, along with your hand still on his warm skin, right above the thing you already miss the feel of, your heart flutters. But, as he is maturely trying to remind you, you really do have to go home tonight and get some sleep. So, you nod. 

“For tonight, yes. But just for tonight.” You end, many more words meant under just those four. 

Stars twinkling in his eyes, he nods with a smile, “Well, I’m countin’ on that last part, darlin’.” The hope his words spark in your heart makes you want to throw your arms around him, but you reel it into a softer embrace. He wraps his arms around you tightly, and you close your eyes to feel the sighed breath from his nose over your shoulder with his lips pressed against your skin. 

“Now, as much as I want to,” he says low in your ear, “I can’t let myself steal away any more of your beauty sleep. Let’s get you home.” You hum in agreement, but stay in his arms. This time, he brings you up by slipping his arms under your thighs, pulling you up to then hoist you over his shoulder. You yelp and giggle, then yelp again when he slaps your ass as he carries you through the barn. In the doorway, he drops you to your feet, but you’ve yet to stop giggling.

“C’mere, pretty girl,” his smile plumps his cheeks, but soon enough it’s against yours in a series of pecking kisses before you bring your arms around his neck to pull him in further. The hunger begins, but once again being the more mature one, Joel pulls away. 

“You better get going before I lose my head, darlin’. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” 

“Okay.” You nod and sigh, looking over his face. 

“Okay.” He nods back, eyes flicking over your face before smacking one last kiss to your lips and turning you around by your shoulders. “Go on, now,” he commands with a smile in his voice. 

Giggling again, you take a few steps before turning back. “Goodnight, Joel.” You smile. 

“Goodnight, sweet thing. I’ll meet you for a whiskey.”

At his promise, you nod, then bring yourself back around to head home, body immediately remembering you're exhaustion, and before you know it you’re tucked into bed, the warmth of the covers reminding you of your lover's arms.

[garbinge]

TENSIONS RISE

Eli “Weevil” Navarro x F!Reader (Felix Toombs sister reader) // Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: Tensions rise between Weevil and you. 

Warnings: All my fics are 18+, regardless of content. Angsty. Not too much of a happy ending, but not a bad one either. Lies, secrets, tension, hurt/comfort.  Secret love. Slow burn.

A/N: First time writing for Veronica Mars! Been rewatching and while I’m an AVID LoVe shipper, during my rewatch I just seriously have my heart strings pulling for Weevil. Pulled this idea for this fic from this prompt list, I changed the dialogue juuuuust slightly to make it sound more Eli-ish.

“You talkin’ to nature or some shit?” 

Without bothering to turn around you chuckled slightly and answered him. "Yeah. It says fuck you in particular."

“Ooof, cold.” He was sitting down on the stairs next to you as you stared out into the backyard. “Nature got a reason to be so angry? Or is there just a chill in the wind?” 

As you turned to look over at him, you expected to see his eyebrows raised and annoyance on his face, but despite his snarky comments, his face was soft and begging for forgiveness. 

“You know I just want the best for you right?” You matched his face. 

Weevil looked away immediately, not wanting to look in your eyes when you said that or when he answered. “I know.” He nodded a couple times before letting his head hang down as he rested his arms on his knees. 

“So you really talkin’ to nature?” He changed the topic, he thought it’d lighten the mood, you could tell by how he adjusted himself. He was leaning back, his elbows now on the top step. 

“No, Weevil. I’m not really talkin’ to nature.” A sigh left your breath. “But sometimes I feel like it’s talking to me.” 

“I leave for 3 days and you go crazy.” It was spoken through a chuckle. 

You smiled at that. “Gotta find some way to pass the time until you come back.” 

“What does nature tell you?” He figured he’d entertain what you were saying. 

“It tells me that we’re made for more than this.” 

_______

“So you’re hangin’ out with 09ers now?” Weevil’s voice was angry as he towered over you. Slamming your bottom locker shut, you stood up, frustration started to make it’s way through your veins. 

“Excuse me?” You turned your body to start walking through the halls hoping that whatever Weevil was getting at would die down as you travelled to your next class. 

“Felix saw you, at some party on the beach, an 09er party.” His voice didn’t change, if anything it was louder since he was following behind you now.

“So now my brother is bringing his family problems to the PCH MC? Real stand up guy my brother is. Don’t worry prez, I’ll handle it with Felix.” 

“Your brother was talking to a friend, lifelong one, the one who's lived next door his whole life, and who knows the Toombs sister wouldn’t just show up at a 09er party for shits and giggles, so tell me what the fuck were you doing with the rich kids? Or what? You were just talkin’ to nature? The waves particularly chatty that night like Logan Echolls was?” 

That caused you to turn around, the anger finally making its way up your throat and at the tip of your tongue. 

“Maybe you should try and approach people with a little more kindness and thoughtfulness before you bum-rush them in the hallways of school. The waves were particularly chatty that night, so chatty that they convinced Logan to drop the charges on you so there’d be no more 3 day leaves, or bail hearings.” It wasn’t the way you wanted to tell him, you honestly didn’t want to tell him anything other than a white lie that you were at his grandmother’s house when the sheriff called to let the Navarro family know the charges had been dropped. 

He stood there, wordless and you laughed sarcastically and looked around with a head shake before placing your pointed gaze back at him. “Next time you talk to my adoring, loving, idiot of a brother, tell him next time he wants to spy on me, maybe try a little harder to get the facts straight.” With that you were walking away just as angry as before, if not maybe a little more, just enough annoyance that you turned around to yell one more thing to Weevil. “I’ll be at your grandmother’s house after school, helping her organize her medication for the week and making dinner for everyone. So when you sick Felix on me, and he sees I’m at the grocery store on the nice side of the tracks, tell him it’s because that’s where the good meat is, not because I’m secretly dating an 09er.” 

He looked at you, that look of regret sparkling bright in his eyes and moping on his face but your anger was so prominent right now that it didn’t matter and you kept moving to get to your next class. 

_______

“Hey can we talk?” You heard the door open and by the couple minute silence you heard between the door being unlocked and the words being spoken it was obvious it was Weevil. 

“Depends, did you set Felix up with binoculars and a good lip reader? Just wanna make sure he gets the full story this time.” You were stirring the pot over the stove, but in reality, you knew you were stirring more up. 

“For the record, I didn’t tell your brother to spy on you. That was all on him.” He was walking up behind you now. Leaning back on his grandmother’s kitchen table. 

“If I’ve learned anything over the years, I know that nothing goes down with PCHers that president Weevil doesn’t approve or know of.” You continued to drop a couple things into the pot and move the spoon around. 

“You’re right that’s why Felix came to me to tell me about you and the party.” He nodded even though you couldn’t see him. 

“You fuckin’ come at me like I’m hiding shit from you, when have I ever hidden shit from you?” Now you dropped the metal spoon into the pot, with slight force and turned around with a disgusted look on your face. 

“Well, hate to get into specifics here but you were hiding shit from me.” He had a smile on his face as he said it because he knew he was right.

It didn’t stop you from getting extremely put out, you turned back around quickly, grabbing the metal spoon just as fast and with the same speed you were pulling it away. “Fuck!” You called out and started waving your hand before moving over to the sink and running cold water over it immediately. The red mark was getting brighter as the seconds passed. 

“Shit, let me see.” Weevil was moving over to the sink next to you, his hand coming to grab yours. He hissed as he saw the burn mark forming. “Hold on, let me get you something, keep it under the water.” As you went to speak he was already moving out of the kitchen and into the hallway where you heard the linen closet opening and things shuffling around. Accompanied by the noise was a couple curses and another door opening and closing before Weevil was back. 

“Let me wrap it up.” He was holding a bandana in hand. You weren’t exactly in the position to argue so you turned and held your hand out. Wincing as he touched the wound, you tried your best not to make a big deal out of it. “Sorry, but it’s better to cover it.” 

“You claimin’ me now.” You looked at the bandana that he’d always keep with him that had the PCHer colors on it. 

“People already know.” His answer was spoken fast and not thought through because he stumbled on the next ones. “I just mean– people already know, you know, not to mess with you, you don’t need no claim.” 

“Yea but what do we do when you and Felix mess with me?” 

Weevil laughed at that, still wrapping the bandana around your palm, tucking the last of the fabric around the back of your hand. 

“If anyone, your brother included, put their hands on you, you know I’d take care of it.” Now he was looking at you, his eyes caught on yours, his hand still lightly wrapped around your injury. 

“And you? Who takes care of you?” 

“Apparently you do.” He was referring to what you did to help him with the open case in his name. 

“Someone’s gotta.” Pulling your hand away from him you turned back to the stove and grabbed a towel so you could get back to what you were doing without an issue again. 

“Let me get that.” He was stepping towards the stove and when he got close you jumped and his hands steadied you, your eyes catching each other again. “You know I love you, right?” 

There it was. The line he always used when he was digging his way out of a fight with you. You stood there, wanting to tell him back, wanting to kiss him, wanting to let the pot boil over while you two just got lost in the moment, forget about everything that kept this from happening between the two of you. 

But then the front door opened and your brother’s voice filled the Navarro house. “Yo Weev!” 

It was all it took for you two to separate and Weevil was stepping in, grabbing the spoon. “Here I got it.” While you were moving to the kitchen table. As Felix stepped into the kitchen, his smile grew as he saw both of you and that food was being prepared. As he stuck his hand inside the serving bowl you had started to fill with food earlier, his eyes fell on you. 

“What happened to your hand?” He was curious but not concerned, his main focus being on stuffing his face. 

“I think I hurt it at a 09er party last night, did you catch that while you were spying on me you little narc.” You barked at him while also swatting his hand away from the bowl. 

He lifted his hands in innocence and before he had a minute to defend himself Weevil was speaking up. 

“She burned herself making food for us.” Weevil was turning the burner off. 

“Idiot.” Felix laughed. 

Again, before you could argue or stand up to push your brother, Weevil was stepping in. “Funny, because I think you meant to say sorry, followed by some sort of thanks because not only did she cook food for us, but she got the my charges dropped for me.” He was dangerously close to Felix’s face, his lips scrunching up and fists getting tight as he waited for his reply. 

“My bad. Sorry.” Felix’s shoulders slumped down before he jumped back up about to leave the room and likely go hang in the living room with the rest of the Navarro family. “And thanks.” 

“Thanks.” You said to Weevil after Felix left. 

“Told you, I’d always have your back, with anyone.” He was placing the food on the table in front of you when you stood up and nodded. 

Your anger was gone, but your emotions were still high. Upset, that’s what you were. Upset that things were the way they were, that everything was secret. You could get behind the secrets that benefited someone, like going to a 09er party to get someone off charges, but what you couldn’t get behind anymore were secret feelings. It was the point where you were tired of hiding how you felt about Weevil, and him doing the same thing and hiding it behind having your back. 

“Yea, and maybe one day we can be honest about why.” 

dividers by: @cafekitsune ♥️ 💖 All Writing Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 (let me know if you’d like to be added! This is for any new fandoms or fandoms I’ve only written a couple fics for)

[miguelunited]

OH MY GOODNESS IVE COME ACROSS TTHIS REALLY REALLY CUTE IDEA FOR 1610!MILES OR 42!MILES. LIKE IMAGINE YOURE HAVING A XUTE MOMENT WOTH MILES AND YOU GUYS ARE "EXPLORING EACH OTHERS BODY". NOTHING SEXUAL OBVIOUSLY. BUT YOUR LIKE SHOWING EACHOTHERS SCARS/BEAUTYMARKS/BIRTHMARKS AND TELLING SMALL STORIES ABOUT THEM. IF YOU COULD DO THAT THAT WOULD BE AMAZINGG!!!<333

ALSO IS IT FINE IF I TAKE THE PLACE AS THE 🪼ANON??? IF YES THEN THANK YOUUU!! HAVE A LOVELY DAY/NOON/NUGHT AND DONT FORGET TO REST, DRINK WATER AND EATT 💗💗💗

Green Eyes

Here you go 🪼 anon🫶🏽 its a luh short and I got off topic but i hope you enjoy ☺️

“—And this one is from when I fell off of my bike when I was 7” You said, pointing to a scar on your knee. Miles sat across from you on your bed as you both explained random scars and injuries you both had as kids.

Miles turned his head and pointed to his left ear, “This one is from when I was like 11, playing soccer, I fell and this one kids cleat scratched my ear. I swear it wasn’t as painful as it looks.” He laughed. Your face contorted in concern, your brows furrowed.

“You sure it didn’t hurt as bad as it looks? Last time I checked you’re a real crybaby—“

“Am not!“

“Are too.”

“AM NOT!”

“ARE TOO!”

You both went back and forth until Miles playfully started wrestling with you. The two of you rolled around in your bed, pinning one another down, tugging limps, lightly hitting each other. You both were out of breath after Miles had pinned you down.

Your face was flushed, your chest heaved, and Miles just stared at you. He analyzed your entire face, your smile, your eyes, everything. He stared at you for so long that the silence was uncanny.

“What?” You asked, quirking a brow.

“Nothin’” He smirked. “Miles.”

“Okay, Okay, sorry— Whats that?” He asked.

“What’s what?” You asked back.

“That brown heart under your right eye, is it a tattoo?”

“Why would it be a tattoo? It’s a birthmark, I’d never tattoo my face.” You winked.

“Is that because you tried to get a butterfly stick n’ poke on your cheek and you cut your cheek in middle sch—“

“Shhh.” You cut him off, and he obliged.

You put your hands on his face and rubbed the skin underneath his eyes, across his nose, and down his cheeks.

He blushed, maybe even a little bit more than the average person would.

“Do you know you have freckles?” You asked, continuing to caress his face.

“I- Uh- No— Never really paid attention to my face unless it’s like a big ass pimple, or something.”

“18.”

“Huh?”

“18. You have 18 freckles. 5 on each cheek and 8 on the nose, I counted.”

Miles’ head dipped down slightly, hiding his face with his hand. He looked up at your eyes again through split fingers, face beet red.

“I think I’m in love with you..” Miles whispered.

“Miles we’re literally dating—??” You laughed through furrowed brows.

[sinsandsweetness]

Torment (sex and zombies- chapter 10)

pairing- {Rick x fem!reader}

summary- Rick never wants you out of his reach. Like ever.

warnings- 18+ content, MDNI! smut, bathtub sex, use of shower head?, overstimulation... **also reader sustains a gunshot injury (just typical twd violence) so skip the first three paragraphs if you don't want to read descriptions of pain.

Thank God for Michonne. Otherwise, you'd have bled out under a tree in no time.

She picked you up and helped you both run off into the woods, fighting off walkers with her sword as you held on to her like a crutch. Your leg burned and your jeans were completely coated, slick with your blood. Finally, when you were as far out as she deemed safe, you stopped to rest. To fix you up. Michonne did her very best by cauterizing the wound. With your knife and a small fire she set in the tiny, abandoned, gas station convenience store.

It hurt like a bitch.

You'd never been shot before. Of course Rick had, and so had Carl. But they never described the pain in an accurate way. It wasn’t even that bad initially. At first it felt like a hard punch to the thigh, probably due to the adrenaline coursing through you and the urgent need to move. To run. But as soon as things had calmed down, you started to seriously contemplate amputation. You’d lost a lot of blood, and it was hard to stay awake. Your entire upper leg was on fire, burning and aching as blood seeped through your fingertips.

"You have to let me do this." Michonne was holding your knee down, and had already cut your pant leg off. "As long as we can stop the bleeding I think you'll be okay. It went clean through." She gently pried your hands off your leg. The sight of your wound, and the sheer amount of blood coating your hands and body made your stomach churn. You squeezed your eyes shut and groaned at the thought of the hot metal approaching your skin. 

"I think I'm gonna pass out."

When you woke up your head hurt, your leg was bandaged and you were in an old pair of cargos that Michonne had found for you in a car right outside of the store. 

"Shit," You rubbed your eyes awake, and then the back of your head. A goose egg had formed from your little fall. "How long was I out?" You asked as she handed you a bottle of water. Taking a few small sips, trying not to down the whole thing.

"About a day." She looked like she wanted to cry.

Seeing her expression jogged your memory. Quickly making you realize where you were. And more importantly why you were there.

"Did you see- did anyone else-" 

"I don't know."

Oh my god. Rick. Daryl. Judith. Everyone's faces flashed in your mind and suddenly you wanted to cry too. 

"They had to. I- the bus left, they- ohmygod. Maggie, she was nearby and- Rick. Did you see Rick?" You hated that it was the only question you really needed answered. Obviously you cared about everyone, but seeing what you saw happen to Rick after his speech about how you could all live together, made your eyes sting. You wiped your face and moved to get up, wincing when you put some weight on your leg. immediately weak and dizzy when you tried to walk.

Michonne called your name and grabbed your arm, pulling you back down, onto the floor. "He was alive. Hurt, but alive. He went to find Carl and then- I don't know I saw you and..." 

"We have to go find them. Any of them. There has to be more than just us. Right? I saw the bus leave I-" You were frantic. Michonne shushed you and pulled you in close. Holding you tight as your shaky breaths turned into real tears. "We have to..."

"I know sweetie, I know," She ran her hand through your hair and let you lean into her. Let you process the pent up emotions you'd been scared of since the start. "We'll find them, but first you gotta rest."

--------------------------

The next few days were hell. If you didn't have Michonne, you couldn't even begin to wonder where you’d be. Probably groaning and rotting alongside one of the many walkers that had attacked you both in the woods. The sound of all the gunshots and explosions had practically attracted a hoard. Thanks to Michonne, you weren’t forced to become a part of it.

During your search, the two of you kept switching attitudes. Like a rollercoaster of emotions, one day she’d be full to the brim with hope and by the next day, empty. And you the opposite. As if only one of you could have faith at a time. 

"We would have found someone by now." She told you from over her shoulder, stepping over a tree branch and warning you it was there. Eyes fixed in a permanent scowl.

"We don't know that." You tried being positive. But it was hard. It was humid and hot, and the walkers were abundant. Your kill count had honestly doubled since you left the prison yard. Machete blade slick with guts and your clothes smelling like dirt and copper.

It wasn't long until you needed more rest.

You had found some water. Enough for the two of you. You rested in a minivan for two whole nights, and the sleep did wonders for your leg. It still hurt when you touched it, but you could easily put more and more pressure as the days went on. The two of you continued to move, circling to the highway, into the woods and back out. Trying to find a sign of anyone you knew. 

Eventually you came across a town, which seemed like a decent place for anyone to hole up. And with the days you'd been traveling on foot, a suburban family home was a dream come true. 

While taking care of a walker, you heard your name called from the porch of a house. Looking over at Michonne sporting a genuine smile. Tears welled in her eyes. You approached slowly, and she started laughing when the door opened

You were frozen. Unsure if what you were seeing was real, or just a figment of your imagination. Maybe you had died of blood loss and this was your afterlife. Seeing Rick open up that front door. Bruised and bloody and beautiful as ever. 

When you stepped inside, he pulled your face into his shoulder, hugging you so tight you could barely breath. Not that you minded. If you died in his arms you'd be a happy woman.

But you weren't dead. And neither was he. Hurt, yes. But not much worse than you. 

You felt his chest move beneath your fingers. A silent sigh of relief, before he gently pressed a kiss onto the side of your head. 

"You look like shit." You whispered into his shirt. All he did was huff a quiet laugh and pull you even closer. 

The relief was written on all of your faces during dinner that night. Smiles and giggles over dry cereal. A game of cards and a whole lot of comfort.

Rick made a game plan for you all. He figured if the four of you had gotten out, there was a really good chance that the others had too. Now it was only a matter of actually finding them. You'd all rest in the house for a couple more days, scavenge for some food, and then head out. Try and meet up with anyone. Maybe try tracking the bus. It wasn't a clear or solid plan by any means, but it was something.

There had to be others, and if there were, you needed to find them. To find the rest of your family.

--------------------------

"Did she go to sleep already?" You could hear Rick ask someone from the hallway. Michonne answered that you were drawing a bath, and told him to let you get some rest.

"She's had a rough few days." A muffled goodnight and a door shut behind her. 

The water was warm. Not hot. But it was better than nothing. You poured some bubble bath into the water stream, its sweet bubblegum scent immediately filling the little room. Whatever upper middle class couple lived in the house before had left tons of goodies. Hygiene products, toothpaste, and shockingly well fitting clothes. You'd already helped yourself to their closet, picking out some sleep shorts and a tank top. Plus some new jeans and a long sleeve, making sure to pack some extras into your bag along with some other essentials. As you unbuttoned your pants and started to slide them down your thighs, you heard three soft taps on the bathroom door. Looking up, Rick pushed it open slightly.

"Hey," he glanced up at you and then to the floor. Giving you a little privacy.

"I was just gonna wash up before bed." You told him, wincing slightly as your waistband reached your bandage, just above your knee.

He looked back up and his eyes widened at the site of your injury. You immediately wished he hadn't seen. Now he'd be worrying about it all night.

"Ohmygod," He came over and tried to help with your pants, moving you to sit on the small vanity stool near the tub. He knelt down and unwrapped the gauze around your thigh, enough to see the gunshot. Looking up at you with lips parted in disbelief.

"I just got caught in the crossfire. It's really not as bad as it looks." You tried to reassure him but he shook his head. But it was true. You felt a lot better than it looked.

"I tried, I really tried- Fuck, I just..." He ran a hand over his face. Stressed at the thought of you hurting. Slowly, he sat up on the edge of the tub and dipped his hand in, drawing a circle in the warm water. Then shut the tap off. 

"Here," He started at your t-shirt, lifting the bottom. You raised your arms and let the man undress you. He looked worse than you. There was no reason he should be helping you get undressed. He was just as hurt. More even. When you first noticed the cut on his nose and the bruises under his eyes, it hurt your heart. And his sad, glossy eyes didn't help either. Despite your curiosity, you didn't even try to bring up Judith. To ask what happened. Not when he seemed so damn broken already. 

"Rick you don't have to-" 

"I do. Okay just let me- let me take care of you, just for right now." 

You nodded reluctantly and let him help you. Allow him to distract himself from the guilt of you getting hurt. Something that wasn’t even in his control. He unclipped your bra, peeled your panties off and took down your hair. You stepped into the warm water, immediately feeling a wave of relief. Clean warm water. You had dried blood covering your legs since the convenience store. You didn’t even know how many days had passed, you weren’t keeping track. You laid back, wetting your hair and running your hands over your face, washing the sweat and blood away. 

Rick watched you from the edge of the tub, tongue darting out to lick his cracked lip. The thought of him seeing you bathe made you blush and dip your head under again. Not that he hadn't seen you naked already, it was just never like this. So… intimate. He smiled sweetly at your bashfulness and handed you shampoo, then conditioner, and a comb. Once you felt clean, you drained the bloody water and started running some more. Warm and fresh. Dipped yourself back in again, hiding your body beneath the water, soap suds surrounding your knees, exposed to the air. Rick dipped his hand in the water again, swirling it around some. His touch made its way to your leg. You looked up at his pretty blue eyes, pupils dilated and giving you that familiar look. So sweet and so very suggestive. 

It was hard not to notice the stiff tent in his jeans. 

Your breath hitched as his hand moved to your inner thigh, carefully avoiding your other injured leg. He stayed like that for a moment, hand massaging at your sore muscles. His touch making your body ache for more. You were already naked, he just had to catch up. “I still can’t believe we found you,” you told him, bringing your hand up to meet his other arm, holding on to the side of the tub. You started playing with the ring on his finger, then moved to his watch, tracing the face of it with your nail. He loved it when you touched him so mindlessly. The way you would play with the buttons on his shirt, or tap and trace the buckle of his belt. Light, feathery touches of attention that never failed to send sweet tingles down his spine. 

“Me neither,” he watched your hand trace at his watch. “Makes me never wanna let you out of my sight again,” the hand on your thigh moved even lower down, fingers brushing your clit. You let out a sigh and Rick licked his lips. 

He rubbed your clit slowly with his thumb, fingers teasing at your entrance under the water. Warm hands on your clean, wet skin. 

"From now on I want you within my reach. At all times." His voice was low but it was an order. Even in his sweet and teasing nature, he was dead serious.

“I’d be okay with that.” You rested your head back against the wall of the tub and closed your eyes. Escaping into the feeling of Ricks touch. He pushed his fingers inside of you with ease, your pussy practically pulling him in. His long digits curled to hit your sweet spot. Over and over and over. You moaned quietly and unintentionally as his thumb continued to message messy circles on your clit. The combination made your breathing become laboured. Your hand went to his forearm, nails digging in.

Fuck, you were already close. 

When your breath slowed down and the grip on his arm become even tighter, he could tell you were right on the edge. And then he stopped.

Your eyes shot open and you looked up at him in shock. “Why’d you stop I was-” so close. So fucking close. And he just stopped, completely ruining your orgasm.

“Always so needy huh,” He teased with a smug grin.

"Rick seriously-" you whined.

"You’ll come. I promise. Now just lay back." He pushed on your shoulder gently and then grabbed the detachable shower faucet from the tub and turned it on. He fidgeted with the thing for a moment and turned the nozzle to a jet setting. His hand disappeared under the water again to press the powerful stream up against your clit. A little surprised by the feeling, you let out a sound and he shushed you.

”Wouldn't wanna wake any one up now, do you?” 

You shook your head and closed your eyes. The feeling of the water pressure against your clit seemingly taking over every pleasure receptor in your body. It was such an intense feeling. Just a fragment away from being too much. 

"Hold that right there for me," He grabbed your hand and forced it around the handle. You obeyed with enthusiasm. Little whimpers escaping you from the pleasure. 

He moved his own hand down, and back inside of you. Even wetter than before, he picked up where he left off, curling and pumping at a perfect pace. 

You tried to suppress the moans and whimpers but you failed miserably. Rick kept his eyes locked on yours, making you a little nervous but still turning you on even more. You bit your lip, trying to quiet yourself.

"You okay there sweetheart?" Rick smirked. You glanced down at the veins in his arms. Extra noticeable as his forearms flexed, working you into a writhing mess. 

The whole thing brought you to climax quickly and without warning. A tiny cry escaped your lips. Rick leaned over, taking the back of your hair in his hand and pulling you in for a kiss. Sparks washed over your core and through your body, hot and euphoric. You could actually feel the walls of your pussy convulse around his fingers, and the water against your clit was suddenly way too much. You pulled away from the pressure and his hand, sinking further into Ricks kiss. But his hand caught your own, and pulled the shower head back to your cunt.

"It's too much- I can't-" you tried telling him against his lips. Which was useless. Probably because making you a sobbing mess is one of his favourite things to do. So he continued to hold it against you, despite the evident tears starting to form. Shaky breaths escaping your lips.

"You can handle it." he said leaning back, unconvinced of your objections. 

A sob erupted from your core as the second, slightly painful, orgasm washed over you. Hot and intense and too much to handle. You gripped the sides of the tub with both hands so hard that your knuckles turned white.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good for me baby,”

"I'm- uh-" You tried to speak but no words would form, just a drawn out whine. You even tried forcing your legs shut but Rick was quick to shut that down. Clicking his tongue, his hand coming up and spread you back out, holding the shower head against you until you came for a third and final time, crying and shaking and overstimulated as all hell. The muscles in your legs burned and your abdomen started to spasm. 

When he finally let up and removed the device, you slammed your legs shut, hand going straight to your cunt, attempting to alleviate the borderline painful numbness.

"Fuck," You whispered. Rick let out a quiet laugh and shut the water off, hand moving to your legs once more and gently squeezing your thigh.

"Too much?"

You gave him a death glare but all it did was make his smile grow. 

"C'mhere." He got up and grabbed a towel, holding it out in front of him. You slowly stood up, legs shaky from the torture you were forced to endure. You lifted your arms up for him and stepped out of the tub. He wrapped the towel around you, tucking a corner in so it would stay up. He leaned in and kissed you softly, while his thumb rubbed circles on your jaw. 

"I would do that all night if I knew it wouldn't break you." He whispered.

"How do you know that didn't break me?" 

"Well you’re standing, for starters."

"Barely." you shot back.

"You could have handled one more." A smug look crossed his face.

You huffed, "I'm a crying mess, begging you to stop, and you think I could take one more?"

"I think I could pin you down right now and make you come again. Have you screaming my name, and begging me to fuck you."

"I don't scream."

"Oh you scream. I know you scream because I've made it happen-”

"Shut up," you smacked at his arm and stepped back. He laughed quietly as you went for the pile of clean pyjamas you had folded on the vanity.

"I'm only teasing,” He sounded apologetic. Sincere. “I just missed you is all." He lifted your chin and stepped back into your space. He kissed you slowly and the butterflies in your stomach helped you admit that he was probably right. You really fucking loved it when he would pin you down and have his way with you. Never letting up until you were a crying mess. And every single time, you'd just end up wanting more.

Grabbing your shorts from the pile, he helped you dress. Pulled the tank over your head and brushed the hair out of your face. 

"Wrap that up, put some polysporin on it. There's some in the medicine cabinet." He ordered, pointing at your thigh. You did as he told, while he sat watching you from the edge of the bed, taking off his boots and jeans. Peering in from the suite attached to the bathroom. When you finished, you brushed your hair, and your teeth, and walked over to him. Planting a sweet kiss on his cheek and a quiet 'goodnight’ before you walked towards the door. 

He pulled on your arm, stopping you. "Nu-huh. Where do you think you’re going?" he asked. You raised an eyebrow. 

"Always within my reach, remember?" He reminded you, pulling you towards him and onto the bed. 

There was already a pool of wetness forming in your shorts, and you knew that once he locked that bedroom door, it wouldn't be long before his cock was shoved deep inside of you, with a hand clamped over your mouth.