#well that was another one that came out of NOWHERE

[stylesispunk]

'Landed too hard'

outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Summary: You save Joel's life from raiders but instead of thanking you, he gets mad at you.

or

You get hurt and you are forced to be vulnerable with each other.

wc: 7k

warnings: age gap, established relationship, angst, fluff, miscommunication, insecurities, mentions of blood, and fluff

a/n: i'm slowly coming back to this with this baby here that was on my drafts. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💌

The forest was too quiet for your liking. No birds, no wind—Just the soft crunch of the snowy ground beneath your feet as you followed Joel who was ahead of you and Ellie. There was something in the air this day, eerie silence pressing on your chest, tension, and Joel had been on edge all day, his broad shoulder seemed tense under his jacker, his grip on the rifle tighter than usual.

It felt like the premonition of something bad coming on your way. So, you kept your knife close and your gun pressed under your hand.

“We’ll set up camp soon,” Joel muttered, his voice low without looking behind to you and Ellie.

Ellie groaned. “Finally. My feet feel like they’re gonna fall soon.”

You gave her a tired smile at her remark, but your eyes stayed on Joel. His jaw was tight, the scar above his brow crinkling deeper. You knew him well enough to read the signs—he was worried. More than usual.

That’s why you didn’t even hear them coming.

One second, you were walking behind Joel, and the next, chaos broke out. Shouts echoed through the trees. Five, maybe six men, all armed came out from nowhere. Joel shoved you and Ellie behind an overturned log.

“Stay down,” he growled, pressing his rifle into your hands. “If anyone gets close, you shoot. Don’t move unless I say so.”

“Joel—”

“Stay.”

You swallowed your fear and nodded, grabbing Ellie and pulling her down. Joel stepped out, drawing their attention, firing a shot that took one of the men down, then another and so on.

But the rest came fast. Through the cracks in the log, you watched Joel fight. He moved like a man who’d done this too many times, but even then, it was too much. One of the raiders tackled him, and suddenly, Joel was on the ground, with one of those men’s hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing hard.

the man’s hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing hard.

“Shit,” you whispered, your heart pounding so hard you could barely hear Ellie’s panicked breathing next to you.

Joel clawed at the man’s wrists, his face turning red, veins bulging in his neck. He wasn’t going to get out of it and you couldn’t just sit there watching the man you loved die in front of you.

“Stay here,” you told Ellie, voice shaking from rage.

“Wait…what are you doing?!” she whispered.

Your body moved before your mind could argue. You were already running before Ellie could have the chance to stop you.

You tackled the man strangling Joel, knocking him off balance, but before you could finish him, another set of hands grabbed you from behind. You struggled, kicking and clawing, managing to land a sharp elbow into the man’s ribs before twisting free. The first man lunged again, but you dodged, feeling the burn of a knife slicing across your cheek. The pain barely registered as you drove your own blade into the man’s neck, then turned and plunged it into the second attacker’s chest before he could recover. Warm blood splattered your hands as the man crumpled, gasping his last breath.

You stood there, panting, adrenaline rushing through your veins.

Joel coughed violently, rolling onto his side, his face pale and drenched in sweat. You dropped to your knees beside him, your hands hovering uselessly. “Joel? Hey—hey, are you okay?”

He didn’t answer right away, still gasping for air. When he finally sat up, his brown eyes locked onto yours—not with gratitude, but with pure, burning rage.

“The fuck were you thinking?” he rasped, voice raw.

You blinked, the adrenaline still rushing through you. “I—I had to. He was going to—”

“You didn’t listen to me!” Joel slammed his fist into the dirt, his whole-body trembling with anger. “I told you to stay hidden! What if he’d killed you?!”

“Well, he didn’t” you stated, “I saved your life!”

“And you risked yours doing it!”

His voice echoed through the trees, sharp and unforgiving. You felt your chest tighten, heat rising in your throat.

“I’m not some helpless girl you can just shove behind a log, Joel! I did what I had to!”

Joel stood up, wiping the blood from his hands. His jaw clenched, but he didn’t say anything else. The space between you felt impossibly wide.

He ran a hand over his face, stepping back like he couldn’t even look at you. "You put yourself in danger. You could’ve been killed. Do you even get that?"

"I get that I just saved your ass!" You shot back, the weight of the moment crashing over you. "And all you can do is yell at me?"

He exhaled sharply, his hands curling into fists before he turned away. "I ain't doin' this."

"Fine," you bit out.

The air between you felt thick, suffocating. You glanced at Ellie, who stood off to the side, arms crossed, her expression tense.

You lifted a hand to your cheek, your fingers coming away sticky with blood. The cut burned now that the adrenaline was wearing off, and you sucked in a sharp breath. Ellie’s eyes flicked to the wound, concern flashing across her face, but she didn’t say anything. Joel still wasn’t looking at you, his back rigid as he adjusted his pack.

"We should get moving," he muttered, voice low and strained.

You nodded, swallowing down the ache in your throat. Without another word, the three of you fell into step, the silence stretching between you like an open wound

That night, you found a small clearing tucked between dense trees, far enough from the road to feel safe. The cold had settled deep, and you pulled your jacket tighter around yourself as you sat near the weak glow of the fire. Joel had barely spoken a word since the fight, his focus set on keeping watch, his back to you.

You weren’t hurt by his words or the outburst he had, but by the idea of him willingly die and feeling at peace with it. How easy would be for him to left you behind and in your own.

You dismissed your thoughts as you dug through your pack for a rag, pressing it against the wound on your cheek. The sting made you wince, and you cursed under your breath.

A quiet shuffling caught your attention, and you looked up to see Ellie kneeling beside you, her brows furrowed.

"Here," she said, pulling a small bottle of alcohol from her pocket. "Let me help."

You hesitated for a moment, then gave her a small nod. She dampened the cloth with the antiseptic and reached for your face. The touch was gentle, but the sting made you hiss.

"Sorry," Ellie murmured, concentrating as she cleaned the cut. "You’re lucky it’s not deeper."

You let out a small chuckle, though there wasn’t much humor in it. "Lucky isn’t exactly how I’d describe this day.”

Ellie huffed, finishing up before pulling a bandage from her pack. "Well, you’re not dead, so that counts for something."

You smiled faintly, glancing toward Joel. He still hadn’t turned around. You sighed, looking back at Ellie. "Thanks, kid."

She just shrugged, but there was warmth in her eyes. "Anytime."

As the fire crackled softly between you, you finally felt a small sense of comfort—at least, from Ellie. Joel, on the other hand, was still a storm brewing on the other side of camp.

Joel sat a few feet away, his gaze drifting to you as he kept watch. He noticed the way you shivered, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, but still, you slept. He hesitated, jaw tightening as he debated with himself. Then, with a quiet sigh, he shrugged off his jacket and carefully draped it over you.

You stirred slightly at the added warmth, a small, unconscious sigh escaping your lips, but you didn’t wake. Joel lingered for a moment, watching you, before settling back down next to you as if he needed to remind himself you were still here.

The fire in your camp had burned down to glowing embers, the scent of smoke mixing with the cool morning air. Joel sat near it, his hands wrapped around his termo, sipping coffee our from it, his eyes occasionally flicking over to where you slept.

Your back was to him, your body curled slightly, the jacket pulled high over your shoulder. The cut ran along your cheekbone from the fight the day before—a fight that left you and Joel in a tense, suffocating silence. Reminding him how you always put yourself in danger for him.

He hated himself for it. How he had came to the point where he felt useless.

Now, in the morning light, you looked peaceful despite the frown that creased your forehead. Joel knew that look. He knew you too well.

Ellie stirred next to him, stretching before getting to her feet. She glanced at you, then back at Joel. “Should I wake her up?” she asked, rubbing her tired eyes.

Joel shook his head. “Not yet.”

Ellie raised a brow. “Why?”

Joel sighed, glancing at you again before taking another sip of coffee. “She’s got a frown.”

Ellie blinked. “Yeah, ‘cause she’s mad at you. Even in her sleep.”

Joel exhaled sharply through his nose, but there wasn’t much fight in it. “No. It’s different. She gets that when she gets a migraine.” He ran a hand over his beard, glancing at you again. “Let her sleep a little longer.”

Ellie’s teasing smirk faded slightly, replaced by something softer. “You really pay attention, huh?”

Joel didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took another slow sip of coffee, staring into the fire. “Yeah,” he admitted quietly. “When it comes to her of course I do.”

Ellie sighed, dropping back down onto the log next to him. “So… you gonna fix this or what?”

Joel tensed, setting his cup down beside him. “She doesn’t wanna talk to me.”

“Yeah, because you yelled at her.” She reminded him.

Joel rubbed a hand down his face. “She shouldn’t have done what she did.”

“She saved your ass, Joel.”

Joel’s jaw clenched. “That ain’t the point.”

Ellie scoffed, shaking her head. “Yeah, it kinda is. She did what you would’ve done for her.”

Joel was silent, his gaze dropping to the ground.

“Do you think she would be fine if you were dead?” she pressed on, sighing.

Instead of answer, Joel reached for his bag, unbuckling the strap. He knew exactly where to look, tucked inside one of the side pockets were the pills he always carried for you, just in case.

Ellie, who had been watching with quiet curiosity, tilted her head. “Wait… you carry her pills?”

Joel didn’t look up as he pulled out the small bottle, checking how many were left. “Yeah.” His voice was gruff, like he didn’t think it was something worth mentioning.

Ellie crossed her arms. “Huh.”

Joel finally glanced at her. “What?”

Ellie smirked. “Nothin’. Just—you act all tough, but you’re, like, secretly the softest person ever for her.”

Joel rolled his eyes, muttering, “Keep it to yourself, kid,” as he moved toward you.

You stirred slightly as he knelt beside you, brushing your hair back from your face with a careful hand. The sight of the cut on your cheek made his stomach twist again, but he pushed the feeling down. He had already failed to keep you from getting hurt once, he wouldn’t fail you now.

Gently, he set the bottle of pills down next to you, along with a canteen of water. He knew you still weren’t talking to him, but that didn’t mean he was going to stop taking care of you.

As he sat back, Ellie watched him with something unreadable in her expression. “Still mad, huh?”

Joel sighed, rubbing his thumb over the strap of your bag.

Ellie nodded. “Well… you’re doin’ the right thing, at least.”

Joel wasn’t sure about that. But as he sat there, keeping watch while you slept, he figured it was all he could do for now.

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the dull ache in your head. The second was the soft sound of the fire crackling nearby. You blinked against the morning light, your body still heavy with exhaustion.

And then you saw the canteen and the small bottle of pills sitting beside you. You didn’t have to ask who put them there.

Your gaze flickered to Joel, who sat a few feet away, his back turned slightly toward you. He was sharpening his knife, the rhythmic scrape of metal against stone filling the quiet space. Ellie sat across from him, kicking at the dirt with her boot, sneaking glances at you like she was waiting to see what you’d do.

You swallowed, your throat dry. Carefully, you pushed yourself up, wincing as your muscles protested. Your fingers brushed against the bottle of pills, and you hesitated before finally picking it up.

Joel’s voice came before you could say anything. “Drink some water with that.”

It was quiet. Gruff. Like he wasn’t sure where the two of you stood after yesterday.

You pressed your lips together, debating whether to respond, but you didn’t have the energy to fight again. Instead, you obeyed, twisting the cap off and dry-swallowing the pill before chasing it with a sip of water.

Joel didn’t look at you, but you saw his shoulders drop just a little.

Ellie, of course, didn’t stay quiet for long. “Sooo… does this mean you guys are done being mad at each other?

You shot her a look. “Ellie.”

“What? I’m just saying’—”

Joel cut in; his voice flat. “Eat your breakfast.”

Ellie huffed but dropped it, tearing off a piece of jerky with her teeth.

You sighed, rubbing your temples before stealing a glance at Joel. His eyes were still fixed on his knife, but you could see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers gripped the handle a little too tightly.

He was waiting. For you to say something. For you to forgive him.

You sighed, pressing your fingers against your temples in a weak attempt to ease the pressure in your skull. It wasn’t working. Nothing ever really worked, except for him.

Joel had a way of grounding you when the pain got bad. He didn’t always have the right words, but he never needed them. He had his own way of taking care of you, of letting you know he was there. And right now, all you wanted was for him to kiss your temples the way he used to.

The way he always did when you were hurting.

But things weren’t the same. You had fought, you had pulled away, and he had let you. And now, even though he was right there, he felt miles away.

You swallowed hard and shut your eyes, trying to push down the disappointment twisting in your chest. It was stupid to want that from him right now. After everything, you shouldn’t need him like that.

Except you did.

Joel shifted, and you felt him move closer, his presence clear even before he spoke. “Did you take the pills?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

There was a long silence, and then, so softly you almost missed it— “Still hurts?”

You hesitated. Your pride screamed at you to say no. To brush him off and keep that last little bit of distance between you. But you were tired.

“Yeah,” you admitted.

Joel exhaled slowly. And then, finally, finally, you felt his fingers brush against your jaw, tilting your head just enough so he could lean in.

His lips pressed against your temple, warm and steady, lingering for just a second longer than they needed to.

You closed your eyes, breathing him in.

“Get ready, we have to go now” he spoke, still closer to your face.

You nodded, your throat tightening at the sudden shift back to reality. The moment was brief, fleeting, just like every soft thing between you and Joel seemed to be.

He pulled away first, his hand dropping from your face like he hadn’t just touched you like you meant something to him. Like he hadn’t just kissed you the way he always used to when you were hurting.

You cleared your throat, pushing yourself up slightly, ignoring the dull ache in your chest "Yeah, okay," you muttered, rubbing at your face as if you could wipe away the lingering warmth of his touch.

Joel stood up, already shifting back into that closed-off version of himself, the one that had been there ever since your fight. The one that didn’t know how to bridge the gap now.

Ellie walked in just as you were attempting to stand, her eyes flicking between the two of you. "You guys look weird," she said, frowning. "Like... extra weird."

Joel sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Not now, Ellie."

She just smirked, clearly entertained by whatever tension was hanging in the air. "Whatever you say, lovebirds."

You rolled your eyes, reaching for your bag to distract yourself. Your fingers trembled slightly as you adjusted the straps, but you pretended not to notice. Joel pretended too, but you could feel his gaze lingering on you, watching you too closely like he always did.

The road stretched ahead, cracked and broken, nature reclaiming what once belonged to people. You walked in silence, the weight of the morning still pressing against your chest. Your head ached, but you bit down on the pain, refusing to let it slow you down.

Joel was beside you, his steps steady, his presence solid as ever. But something about him felt distant. He was looking at you, you could feel his gaze flickering toward you every few moments, but it wasn’t the same. Not like before.

Before, his eyes had been filled with something warm, something certain. But now? Now, it felt like he was watching you from behind a wall, like he was making sure you were still there but refusing to let himself feel anything about it.

Ellie, for once, was quiet, kicking a stray rock as she walked ahead, letting the tension settle between the two of you.

Joel’s outburst had been raw, desperate, his voice breaking, his hands gripping yours like he could tether you to him. But now, you saw it for what it was. Fear. Not just of losing you. But of what it meant if he didn’t.

Because Joel didn’t think he deserved to have you. He thought he wasn’t enough, that he never had been. And maybe… maybe he never would be.

You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. "You don’t have to keep looking at me like that," you muttered, not even turning your head.

Joel tensed beside you. "Like what?"

"Like you're waiting for me to cry to let you in and forgive you shout at me.”

His jaw ticked, and for a moment, you thought he wouldn’t say anything at all. But then—

"I am not," he said, voice rough. A lie.

You stopped walking. Finally, you turned to face him. "Then what is it?" you asked, your voice softer than you meant for it to be. "Because you had been like this for week, something's been different and yesterday you just broke."

Joel exhaled slowly, looking away, his hands on his hips, his fingers flexing. "Nothing’s different."

You huffed out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "Bullshit."

Ellie stopped a few steps ahead, glancing between the two of you like she wanted to intervene but thought better of it.

Joel shifted uncomfortably, his shoulders stiff, his mouth opening—then closing again. He had no answer. No real one, anyway.

Because the truth was, it had never been about you. It had always been about him. About the way he would rather push you away than let himself believe, even for a second, that he was allowed to keep you. That you would want to stay.

That you would choose him. But you were tired of being the only one fighting for this.

So, you just nodded, setting your jaw. "Alright," you murmured, turning back toward the road, ignoring the way your chest ached. "If nothing’s different, then let’s just keep moving."

He Heard the way your voice broke at the end and he just watched as you joined Ellie.

Joel stood there, hands tightening into fists at his sides as he watched you walk away. He’d done this—again.

He had Hurt you.

He told himself it was for the best, that it was the only way to keep you safe. But that excuse was starting to sound as hollow as he felt.

Ellie shot him a glance, her expression unreadable before she turned her attention back to you. She said something low under her breath, nudging your shoulder. You didn’t look back.

And Joel? Joel just stood there, rooted in place, watching the one thing he was most afraid of slip through his fingers.

Because, deep down, he knew. It wasn’t the world that would take you from him. It was him. It was a matter of time.

A few hours later, when cold still found its way deep down your bones. You followed Joel and Ellie into the old market, the air inside thick with dust and the remnants of a world long gone. The faded signs above the shop windows once advertised fruits and vegetables, but now they were nothing more than silent witnesses to the decay around them.

Joel stepped into the shadows first, scanning the area with ease. His hand never strayed far from the rifle slung across his back. He wasn’t just looking for supplies—he was looking for danger, as always, he was ready to find it. You watched him move with that quiet confidence that made him seem invincible, even though you knew better. The way he held himself, as if the weight of the world was constantly on his shoulders.

He disappeared behind a corner, moving into the heart of the market.

Ellie, always ready for adventure, shifted impatiently next to you. “Think it’s safe?” she whispered, her voice barely audible in the stillness of the market.

You didn’t answer right away, your eyes fixed on the place where Joel had vanished. You could feel the tension coiling between the two of you, that invisible thread that had been growing tighter over the last few hours. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on it.

“He’ll let us know when it’s safe,” you said quietly, not taking your eyes away from him.

Ellie raised an eyebrow, clearly not fully convinced. “Yeah, but what if-”

You cut her off with a shake of your head. “He’s careful. He’ll check everything first.”

She didn’t seem entirely satisfied with the answer, but she stayed quiet. You both waited in silence, the only sounds the distant hum of the wind and the occasional creak of the building settling.

Then, Joel’s voice echoed from ahead. “Clear,” he called out as he reappeared from behind a row of shelves, his gaze briefly flicking over you before he turned to lead the way deeper into the market. His expression was unreadable, but you could sense the wariness beneath it.

His fingers found their way to your shoulders, his touch was brief, just the slightest brush of his fingers against your jacket. A silent reassurance. Or maybe a habit he couldn't break.

You didn’t react, didn’t turn to look at him. Instead, you focused on scanning the shelves, looking for anything useful. Cans, medical supplies.

Ellie was already rummaging through a shelf, muttering under her breath about how people really liked canned beans before the world went to hell. Joel moved ahead, his rifle held tight as he checked the corners, ever cautious.

You bent down, shifting through a pile of toppled boxes, when Joel’s voice came from behind you. “You good?”

It was automatic, the way he asked. Like even when he was keeping his distance, he still couldn’t help but care.

You hesitated, keeping your back to him. “Yeah.”

Another pause. Then a quiet, “Alright.”

But it wasn’t alright.

Not the way his voice sounded. Not the way your chest ached every time he was close but not close enough. And definitely not the way his fingers had lingered just a second too long on your shoulder, as if he didn’t want to let go.

Joel was already moving toward another section of the market, scanning the rows of empty shelves, searching for anything of value. Ellie had drifted further ahead, already rummaging through a crate she found. You stayed close to the wall, the building’s dilapidated structure making you nervous, but you tried not to let the unease show. You knew Joel was doing his best to keep everyone safe, but the weight of everything—of what you had lost, of what you were still fighting for—was starting to catch up with you.

You took a few more steps, carefully picking your way over the cracked floor, when suddenly, the ground beneath you gave way with a sharp, unsettling creak. Before you could react, your foot twisted, the bone snapping like a twig under the weight of the fall.

A sharp, searing pain shot through your ankle as you cried out, unable to stop yourself. The world spun for a moment as you collapsed, hands pressing to the ground to catch yourself, but the pain in your ankle was unbearable. You let out a sharp gasp, fighting the urge to cry out again as you felt something shift beneath the skin, your foot didn’t feel right.

"Shit," you muttered, trying to stay calm, but panic crept in with each breath. Your heart raced as you instinctively tried to pull yourself up, but your foot wouldn’t hold any weight. You couldn’t put it down.

Ellie’s voice broke through the fog of pain, distant but growing closer. “What happened?”

“Sweetheart?” Joel’s voice followed almost immediately. You could hear the panic lacing his tone, the urgency in his steps as he turned back toward you. You felt the weight of his presence before you saw him, his figure coming into view, moving fast.

He saw you on the ground, your face twisted in pain, and his heart dropped. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath, kneeling down beside you with a speed that surprised you. His hands were gentle, but you could hear the frustration in his voice as he assessed the damage. "What the hell happened?"

“I—I fell,” you stammered, gritting your teeth as you tried to hold back more of the pain. You couldn’t focus on anything other than your ankle, the way it throbbed, the way your body seemed to give way under the weight of it.

Joel’s face hardened, his jaw clenching as he reached down to carefully touch your injured ankle. “I’m gonna need you to stay still, alright?” His voice was calm, but there was a warning edge to it. He was trying to hold himself together, trying not to let his worry show, but you could see it in his eyes. His hands worked quickly, checking for anything more serious, his brow furrowed with concentration.

“Ellie, get over here,” Joel called out, his voice low and strained.

Ellie rushed back toward you, eyes wide with concern as she knelt beside you. “Shit, are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” you said through clenched teeth, trying to sound stronger than you felt. “It’s just my ankle.”

Joel’s gaze flicked between you and Ellie, his mind clearly racing. “We need to get you out of here, now.” His hand gripped your shoulder for a moment, his fingers digging into the fabric of your jacket as if grounding himself in that brief contact.

Ellie was already standing, her expression determined as she took a deep breath. “I’ll go grab what we need.”

Joel nodded, but his focus never left you. He reached down, his hands carefully lifting you as he positioned himself behind you. "I'm gonna carry you. It's gonna hurt a little, but I need you to hang on."

You bit back a hiss of pain as he adjusted his hold on you, making sure not to jostle your foot too much, but you couldn’t suppress the way your body tensed at the movement. The pain was still sharp, but there was something comforting in the way Joel’s arms secured around you.

“Joel…” you whispered, too exhausted to speak louder.

“I got you,” he muttered back, his voice almost a promise. "Just hang in there."

As he started to move, carrying you carefully toward a safer corner, you could feel your heart rate begin to slow, your pulse steadying slightly in the rhythm of his steps. But the ache in your ankle still lingered, a constant reminder of how fragile everything really was.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to block out the pain, trying to find some semblance of peace in the way Joel had his arms around you. Because no matter how mad you were, no matter how much you weren’t talking to him, Joel Miller was always going to take care of you.

Joel helped you settle into a quiet corner of the abandoned store, easing you down onto an old crate. He crouched in front of you, his hands steady as he pulled your boot off, careful not to jostle your ankle too much.

Ellie hovered for a second, glancing between the two of you, then rolled her eyes. “Alright, I’m gonna go check the other side of the store. Try not to kill each other while I’m gone.”

You didn’t respond. Joel didn’t either.

Once Ellie disappeared, Joel focused back on your ankle, pulling out a roll of bandages from his pack. He was quiet as he started wrapping, his fingers gentle but firm, pressing just enough to support your injury.

You watched him for a moment, then let out a quiet scoff. “You don’t have to pretend you care about this.”

Joel’s hands stilled. His jaw ticked. Slowly, his eyes lifted to meet yours.

“You think I’m pretending?” His voice was low, rough. Almost offended by the way your voice sounded saying those words.

You looked away, focusing on the peeling paint on the walls. “I don’t know what you’re doing, Joel. One second, you’re mad at me. The next, you’re acting like—like this.” You gestured vaguely at him. “Like it actually matters.”

Joel exhaled through his nose, sitting back on his heels. “It does matter.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Does it? Because you sure as hell didn’t act like it when you were yelling at me.”

His hands curled into fists at his sides. “I was mad because you almost got yourself killed.”

“I was saving you.” You protested.

“I don’t need saving” He replied, rough as always.

Your eyes snapped back to his, anger flashing in them. “And I don’t need you acting like I don’t have a say in whether or not I protect you. You can’t just decide for me, Joel.”

Joel sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. He looked exhausted, like he was carrying too much weight on his shoulders. “You don’t get it,” he muttered. “I can’t—” He stopped himself, shaking his head.

You frowned, your voice softer now. “Can’t what?”

His gaze met yours again, something raw behind it. “I can’t lose you.”

The words hit you harder than you expected. For a moment, neither of you said anything. The only sound was the faint wind outside, the rustling of leaves.

You swallowed, your throat tight. “You think I want to lose you?”

Joel’s expression softened just a fraction. He sighed, reaching forward, his hand hesitating before resting gently on your knee.

Your breath caught. The fight, the tension, it was still there, but underneath it was something deeper. Something neither of you had the words for just yet.

“You are always so willing to die,” you sobbed, your voice breaking. “Like you’re just waiting for the exact moment. Like none of this matters to you. Like I don’t matter.”

Joel’s breath hitched. His grip on you tightened, grounding you, but he didn’t say anything.

You sniffed, shaking your head. “Do you even know what that does to me? How it makes me feel?”

He swallowed hard, his throat working around the words he wasn’t saying.

“You walk into danger like you’ve already made peace with dying,” you continued, your voice raw. “And maybe you have. Maybe you don’t care what happens to you, but I do, Joel. I care. And you make me watch you throw yourself into danger like it doesn’t matter if you make it out. Like you don’t care if I have to watch you—”

Your voice cut off as a sob wracked through you.

Joel let out a slow breath. Then, finally, he spoke. “I do care,” he said quietly. “More than you know.”

You let out a bitter laugh, swiping at your tears. “You sure don’t act like it.”

Joel’s jaw clenched. His gaze dropped for a moment before he forced himself to look at you. “I’m not waiting to die.”

You scoffed, looking away.

“I’m not” he insisted. His voice was rough, firm. “I just…I don’t know how to do this. How to—” He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face before gripping the back of his neck. “I spent twenty years not giving a damn about whether I made it out of alive. And then you—” He stopped, shaking his head like he didn’t have the words.

You stared at him, waiting. His gaze met yours again, and for the first time in a long time, he looked vulnerable.

"Do you think I would survive without you?" You asked him.

"You're strong." he stated.  

"That doesn't matter if the person I love and I protect throws himself to death" you said, tired of the cycle.

“I’m not trying to--” he started, but you cut him off.

“Yes, you are,” you snapped, your voice trembling. “You act like you don’t care what happens to you, but I do, Joel. I do. And I don’t know what’s worse—watching you run into danger without thinking or knowing that if you died, you’d probably think I’d just move on.”

His brows furrowed. “That ain’t—”

You swallowed, your fingers tightening around Joel’s wrist. “Do you love me, Joel?”

He didn’t answer right away. His jaw tensed, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t say it—that maybe, after everything, he’d still hold back.

But then, his hand moved, cupping your face gently, his thumb brushing over the cut on your cheek. His touch was careful, reverent, like he was memorizing you.

“I do,” he murmured, voice rough with emotion. “More than I know how to say.”

Your breath stilled.

Joel exhaled, shaking his head slightly. “More than I ever meant to. More than I know what to do with.”

Your heart ached at the honesty in his voice.

“Then stop trying to leave me behind,” you whispered, pleading to him.

He looked at you with such intensity, as if he was trying to see past the pain and fear, trying to understand something that had always eluded him.

“How do you even love someone like me?” Joel’s voice cracked slightly, the question laced with vulnerability, a side of him you rarely saw—something raw and unprotected.

Your heart hurt at the sound of it. You wanted to reach out and erase the doubt from his mind, to tell him that he didn’t have to question it. But instead, you just looked at him, letting the silence linger for a moment, trying to gather the right words to answer him.

“Joel,” you whispered, your voice soft but firm, “I love you because you’re you. Because through all the broken pieces, all the walls you’ve built around yourself, I still see the man who’s been there for me. You’re not perfect, none of us are. But you’re the one I want. You’re the one I need.”

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if taking in your words, processing them, before meeting your gaze again. His expression softened, the tightness in his jaw easing, but there was still that guarded look in his eyes. He was trying to fight something inside himself, something he had carried for so long.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, almost to himself, but you heard it loud and clear. The doubt in his voice, something he couldn’t shake.

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you, forcing him to see the truth in your eyes. “Stop saying that,” you said, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. “You deserve me. You deserve everything good that’s coming your way. I’ve seen who you are, Joel. You’re not what you think you are.”

“Why do you think I keep pushing you away?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper now, like he was afraid of the answer himself.

You leaned in a little closer, your forehead nearly touching his, and your breath mingled in the quiet space between you. “Because you’re scared of letting yourself love me the way you do,” you said softly. “You’re scared of losing me. But pushing me away won’t make it any easier. It’ll just leave you with a regret you can’t undo.”

He inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling as if your words had struck a chord in him, but it wasn’t enough to break him completely, not yet.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “But I’m afraid if I let myself love you fully... if I let myself need you the way I do… I won’t be able to protect you. I can’t live with that.”

A single tear slipped down your cheek as you reached up to wipe it away, the tenderness in his voice catching you off guard. You could feel the pain in his words, the depth of his fear, and it only made you love him more.

Joel’s hand gently moved to your ankle, and despite everything that had just been said, the tenderness in his touch wasn’t lost on you. His rough fingers brushed against your skin as he carefully positioned your leg. You winced slightly at the discomfort, but it wasn’t the pain from your ankle that caught your attention—it was the way his eyes never left you, the quiet care he was showing in that moment.

“Hold still,” he murmured, his voice low, trying to keep his own emotions in check. You could tell he was trying to be calm for you, even though you knew he was anything but calm inside.

Joel’s fingers moved gently over your ankle, wrapping the bandage with the precision of someone who had done this a thousand times. His touch was steady, and for once, it was soft, more like the careful tenderness of someone who didn’t want to hurt you, rather than the harshness that often came with survival.

You winced slightly when the bandage tightened, but he immediately eased his grip, looking at you with concern.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s fine,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure why, but his care made you feel vulnerable in a way you weren’t used to.

Once your ankle was properly secured, Joel leaned back, looking at you for a moment, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite place in them. He didn’t speak for a while, just stared at you like he was trying to decide something in his mind.

Joel’s gaze went to your ankle for a moment, then, unexpectedly, he leaned forward, his lips brushing the soft skin of your bandaged ankle. It was a gesture so tender, so unexpected, that you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“Don’t laugh,” he murmured, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, though his voice remained quiet, almost apologetic. “I’m just trying to make it better.”

You shook your head, still chuckling lightly, the sound feeling strange after everything that had happened. “I wasn’t laughing at you, Joel,” you said, meeting his eyes with a smile. “It’s just... never thought you’d be kissing my ankle better.”

Joel’s smirk softened into something more tender, and for a moment, there was nothing between you but the quiet understanding. His eyes dropped back to your ankle for a brief second before lifting to meet yours once more, his expression serious.  Without another word, he moved closer, his hand reaching to cup your face gently, his thumb brushing over your skin with the same tenderness he had shown when tending to your injury. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, his lips just a breath away.

And then, without hesitation, he kissed you, soft, lingering, as if it was a promise, as if it was everything, he hadn’t been able to say before. You leaned into it, letting the kiss speak for you both, the tension between you finally easing, at least for this moment.

“Oh, come on! Seriously?” Ellie’s voice cut through the moment like a knife.

You and Joel broke apart instantly, your breath still tangled in his, as you turned to see Ellie standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, a smirk pulling at her lips.

Joel cleared his throat and sat back slightly, rubbing a hand over his beard like that would somehow erase what she’d just walked in on.

Ellie rolled her eyes. “I leave you two alone for five minutes, and you’re already making out. Unbelievable.”

Your face burned, but you couldn’t help but laugh at her dramatic tone. “Ellie—”

“No, no,” she interrupted, waving a hand. “I mean, it’s kinda sweet, but gross.”

Joel shot her a look, his voice flat. “Ellie.”

“What?” She shrugged, grinning. “Just saying. But, uh—maybe save the romance for later, lovebirds? We kinda got shit to do.”

Joel exhaled sharply, shaking his head, but when he glanced at you again, you caught the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“C’mon,” he muttered, standing up and offering you a hand. “We should get movin’.”

You took his hand, squeezing it briefly before letting go. As you stood, Ellie shot you both a smug look before turning on her heel.

As she walked away, you heard her mutter under her breath, “God, I hope I never have to see that again.”

As soon as you put weight on your injured ankle, a sharp pain shot up your leg, making you wince. You bit down on a curse, trying to tough it out, but Joel noticed immediately.

“Joel, it’s fine, I can walk,” you protested, but you could see the look in his eyes, the one that said, no argument.

“Not gonna argue with me on this one. Up you go.” Before you could protest, he crouched slightly in front of you. “Get on.” He waited for you to settle onto his back, and you reluctantly complied, knowing it would be easier than walking on your own.

You blinked at him. “Joel, I can—”

He shot you a look over his shoulder. “I'm not asking...”

Ellie snorted. “Just get on, lovebird.”

You sighed, but there was no real fight left in you. Carefully, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he hooked his arms under your legs and lifted you effortlessly.

“Easy, old man,” you teased, resting your chin on his shoulder.

Joel huffed, adjusting his grip. “Call me that again, and I’m dropping you.”

You laughed softly, “Thanks,” you muttered after a moment, your face buried in his jacket, still feeling the warmth of his body. The way he carried you felt like a sense of safety you hadn’t realized you needed until now.

You sighed against him, letting yourself relax just a little as Joel carried you forward with steady steps. Without thinking, you pressed a soft kiss to the side of his neck, just above the collar of his jacket.

Joel stiffened for half a second, his grip on your legs tightening before he exhaled slowly. “You trying to distract me?” His voice was lower now, rougher.

A smirk played on your lips. “Is it working?”

He huffed, shaking his head. “Maybe.”

You laughed, placing another kiss on the same spot, “I love you, Joel.”

His steps faltered for just a moment, barely noticeable, but you felt it. His grip on you tightened, his fingers pressing into your legs like he needed to ground himself.

He didn’t answer right away, just kept walking, his jaw tight. For a second, you thought maybe he wouldn’t say anything at all.

But then, in that quiet, gruff voice of his, he murmured, “I love you too, darling. Always”.

[bvrnesher]

— A WELCOME GIFT !

cw: heated kisses, a lot of touching, percy getting handsy & kinda dry humping, public beach !

ㅤ୨ৎ — ˳ percy jackson ! fem. reader

﹙English is not my first language ! ﹚ꪆ

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗚𝗢𝗗𝗦 𝗪𝗘𝗥𝗘 𝗗𝗘𝗙𝗜��𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗟𝗬 𝗠𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 with Percy.

There was no other explanation. He'd been saving Olympus ever since he found out he was a demigod, and what did he get in return? More quests. Nonstop.

The gods were a bunch of idiots. Seriously, they were pros at it. After everything he'd done for them, they still had the audacity to send him on more quest.

Wasn't that some kind of child labor? Sure seemed like it. Well, maybe not child labor anymore, but there was definitely some exploitation going on here.

They had to be joking. You'd think that after saving their godly asses time and time again, they'd at least give him a break. But nope. Overestimating the gods was always a mistake.

And now, finally, Percy was back at camp after yet another quest. Sadly, you hadn't been there to join him—lucky you, right? You weren't even around when he had to pick his team.

Now he was back.

You had just finished unpacking in your cabin and were heading to the beach for some much-needed relaxation. That was the plan... until you saw your boyfriend emerging from the water.

Clasic Percy. Coming back from a quest and just appearing out of nowhere, soaking wet. What else did you expect?

As soon as he spotted you, he sprinted toward you faster than Apollo reciting one of his cringey haikus.

Could you blame him? It had been months since you'd last seen each other. Ignoring his exhaustion, he practically knocked you down into the sand, trapping you beneath him.

You barely had time to process it before his lips took over yours.

A proper greeting? For what? His version of a "hello" was his salty mouth crashing into yours, his wet hair dripping down his jaw and chin, splashing onto your cheeks... and basically your entire face.

"Hey..." Kiss.

"Not now. Talking can wait," he muttered, just before capturing your lips again.

Percy didn’t care about being seen or the lecture that would come afterward. Right now, the only thing on his mind was you. It had been months. MONTHS.

“Mph…m'trying to speak here...” you murmured, trying to talk, but your voice came out weak and breathless.

"Yeah? Well, I’m trying to kiss you here," he responded, nibbling softly on your lower lip in that playful and sexy way that always left you breathless.

You rolled your eyes and shifted positions, now on top of him, pinning him to the sand with one leg on either side of his body.

"Now that’s better," he grinned. The feel of your body molding to his like two puzzle pieces was enough to leave him with a goofy smile, looking at you like you were everything he needed.

And, honestly, you were.

"Much better."

His hands slid under your shirt with a mix of tenderness and desperation, like he was trying to reconnect with you after all the months of separation. Percy's thumb began to trace slow circles on your hips, while his other hand explored a territory he knew by heart.

He looked up at you from beneath, his sea-green eyes locking with yours. Even the sound of the waves crashing against the camp’s beach seemed to fade into the background as you both got lost in the moment. Leaning in, he kissed you languidly.

"I love you..." he whispered.

Percy held your jaw, trying to pull you closer to him, to get as much of you as he could. The hand under your shirt slid to your back, tracing up and down your spine. Playing with the clasp of your bra.

Then—his tongue slipped into your mouth, finding yours. A low breathy moan escaped him and you melted. A soft hum vibrating in your throat.

Percy kissed you just the way Percy was supposed to kiss.

A small whimper slipped from your lips. And that’s when it hit you.

Public.

"Percy,” you tried to protest, but his name came out more like a plea than a complaint.

He smirked against your lips. His fingers toying with the clasp of your bra, teasing. That sound you just made? It should be illegal.

“Yeah, babe?” he murmured. Lips brushing against yours. His breath mixing with yours.

The beach was empty. Just you, him, and the waves. It would’ve been the perfect moment—if you weren’t ruining it.

But your boyfriend knew exactly how to fix that.

“What’s the problem?” he asked softly. His voice dropped an octave, low and smooth, like a secret.

"Percy, we’re in the open—”

“And why should that matter?”

A hand on your hip. A pull. He rolled his hips up, it was subtle. Intentional.

Your breath hitched.

He was hard.

His body was warm. His muscles tense with anticipation as he pressed you down against him. Seeking more of you. A deep, shaky breath left him as his hands roamed your body, slow and purposeful.

“Mhm...” He let his head fall back against the sand, eyes shut, lips parted.

Then, he looked at you. And that look? That look made you shiver.

His voice dropped again. Rougher now. “You... are wearing... way too many clothes.” His hand slipped under your shirt. Tracing the edge of your bra with his fingers. One swift motion and he flipped you over.

His lips left yours, trailing down your jaw, your neck. Hot, open-mouthed kisses, he sucked gently, right where he knew you liked it.

“You look so good like this,” he murmured, voice husky. His eyes roamed over you, taking you in. “Make some room for me.”

He pulled back just enough. His hands found your knees, and he guided them apart, spreading your legs for him. As soon as he had room, he settled between your legs, gently pulling you to him.

A searing heat coursed through your body as Percy caught your wrists and held them above your head, his fingers tangling in the sand around them. His body pressed against yours, his weight enveloping you in the best possible way.

He leaned into you, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. His eyes were fixed on your face, devouring your every feature as he drew closer. His gaze slid between your eyes and lips, taking in every detail.

"You have no idea how much I've missed this..." Percy murmured and he began to roll his hips against yours diligently as his lips sucked hickeys on your neck. His body molded perfectly against yours, and a single movement of his hips was enough to leave you dumb.

"Clothes get in the way..." He murmured, tugging at the waistband of your shorts, and you could do nothing but nod before grabbing his chin to kiss him desperately.

By the time the kiss broke, a trickle of saliva connected your swollen lips with his. A lopsided smile splits over his lips that makes your tummy flutter, and he's already thrusting against your clothed pussy.

Your own hips buck against his, and Percy can only let out grunts and curses in your ear at the sensations.

Percy would be ashamed of how he was leaking under his clothes if he wasn't too busy taking your welcome gift to really dwell on it.

NOTE;; I wrote this half-sleep, lol.

[hxney-lemcn]

New Beginnings — OoT! Link x gn! reader

summary: some people have first meetings that happen twice. At least yours ends with a happy ending.

a/n: this was meant to be a brainrot blurb and got out of hand so its more of a ficlet than anything. bad summary ik, but it has a cute ending!

wc: 1.1k

Master List

The first time you met the hero of time you were standing guard in front of the entrance to Lon Lon Ranch. You had been hired by Ingo to make sure unsavory folks didn’t make their way in…which is hard when he catered to the most unsavory there was. With castle town taken over and the princess gone it seemed that Hyrule would never come back from being under Ganon’s thumb. Seeing the boy…man(?), who was around your age approach, you fixed your slouched posture, hand over the hilt of your sword. You eyed the young man in a green tunic wearily, asking him to state his business. With blue eyes filled with passion, looking a bit concerned even, you had decided to let him pass…perhaps he’ll help poor Malon who had been mistreated ever since you first started working. 

It was later that night when you had talked to Malon about the strange man when she explained that he had come seven years ago. How she had called him fairy boy due to the blue sprite that followed him about, and how she was glad to see him once more, even if the circumstances weren’t the best. You went to bed that night wondering why you couldn’t seem to get his determined expression out of your mind…it was too bad you had never seen him again.

The first time you met Link was when you were lugging two pails of milk, trying your hardest not to let a drop spill over. His bright blonde hair stood out against the rolling green of the hill that was Lon Lon Ranch. You had been hired as a stablehand by Talon, helping with any chore you could alongside his daughter Malon. You nodded towards the young man who watched you with curious eyes…odd. Ignoring him, you continued with your daily tasks, watching Malon greet him from the corner of your eye, curious as to who he was. 

Bonding was easy once he started to help out on the farm as well, finding yourself teasing him as he ran from the cuccos, when a horse tried to eat his hair, or when a cow just would not for the life of him let him clean her stall. You were quickly endeared by Link, feeling your heart drop every time he was called by the palace to help establish peace with one thing or another. You weren’t sure what the royal castle would want for a mere farmhand…it was odd. Link was odd…but you found that all the more charming.

You weren’t sure why the nickname slipped past your lips one day. Fairy boy. You hadn’t seen him with a fairy before, but for some reason it felt natural. The way Link whipped his head towards you, eyes wide and jaw slack, you felt as if you had made a mistake. You had tried to backtrack, explaining how it came out of nowhere, but he dropped it, merely shaking his head and muttering how he had an old fairy friend he was looking for. So it was only natural that the next time you went to Castle Town on a goods run, you had rushed to the library, searching all you could for fairies and anything related. Apparently they liked sweets and shiny objects, and would heal a person in great need. Interesting. 

You had asked Malon to help you place a small bowl of water with sugar cubes on the far side of the farm, lying through your teeth about how you always wanted to see a fairy in real life. Confused, but understanding she had helped. It had become a part of your routine from then on to check the bowl, asking any fairy that you caught if they had known Link or another fairy who knew him, and restocking it when necessary. You didn’t even know the name of the fairy you were searching for, but you were trying your best. As well as trying to keep your little mission under wraps, not wanting Malon to ask too many questions, and wishing to surprise Link if you ever do end up finding his old friend.

Too bad things didn’t seem to want to go your way. 

The sun had been setting, Malon was finishing up putting the animals away, Link had been called to Castle Town days ago, and you stood with two fairies, one sitting on your shoulder and the other flying around your face. You spoke in hushed whispers as the fairies returned in kind with bell-like jingles. You couldn’t understand a word they were saying, but they were trying their best with gestures and shapes…only for the one in front of you to join its friend on your shoulder, both huddling together. Confused, you turned around only to be face to face with Link, bandage covering his right eye. You felt your heart drop, hands instinctively rising to hold his face only to hesitate. 

Your worry clearly shined on your face as Link softly took your outstretched hand and placed it on his cheek, a warm blush littering his cheeks. Questions rolled off your tongue a mile a minute, asking your friend what had happened and if he was okay. A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest, he had surely grown since you both were teens years ago, soothing your worries quietly with fond eyes. You were too panicked to notice. Timidly, one of the fairies flew off your shoulder, approaching the tall man. Link watched on warmly as it tried its best to heal any damage it could, letting Link take off the bandage. 

You had gasped at the sight, a fresh scar ran from the center of his forehead, over his eye, down to the center of his cheek. Your thumb gently caressed the raised skin, frustration bubbling under your skin. You had grown to love the man, romantically, platonically, you didn’t care, but you loved him one way or another, and it made you burn with rage every time he came back hurt. The other fairy who stayed on your shoulder tried to comfort you, jingling softly and hugging your cheek. They were lucky they were cute, as it tugged a small smile out of you. 

If you were to tell Link when he was the hero of time that he would end up not only courting, but marrying the attractive guard he met at Lon Lon Ranch all those years ago, he would have blushed and denied such claims. Yet fate is funny, as in this lifetime you had never really held a sword at all, more accustomed to carrying large crates and corralling animals. And you had decided that you wouldn’t mind being tied to such a man as him, merely stating that someone had to look after him. Even if he couldn’t provide you with all you were owed, you’d merely smile and tell him that all they wanted was him, and that was something he was more than willing to give you. His body, mind and soul were yours until the end of time.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

“The boy had come from nowhere, and been a slew of trouble since” is one of my favourite descriptions of Kaz that we get anywhere in the duology on so many different levels

On the surface it’s a brilliant and lightly amusing quote, and coming in the final chapter of Six of Crows when we know Kaz very well adds to a comfortable sense of knowing how well it fits him and being amused by the phrase

We also have the reminder that Kaz is still a child, and the imagery of him having “come from nowhere” since he literally clawed his way back from death and built the life he’s clinging to up from nothing is already excellent.

We have yet another reference from someone with more money than our main characters to the crimes and danger of the world they live in by a diminishing descriptor like “trouble”, which is deeply ironic considering that the source is Pekka Rollins. Most of the time, this diminishing language comes from members of the Kerch aristocracy, such as when Pekka himself is described as a mere “miscreant” by Council Members in Crooked Kingdom.

But as if that wasn’t all already enough, you know what else we have??? A horrifying, cruel reminder laid out starkly next to Rollins’ descriptions of having heard Kaz’s name since he rose to success in the Dregs and having seen him around the Barrel a few times, that Rollins is supposed to know where Kaz came from. He should remember who Kaz is, and what he did to him. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t know anything about a child from a farm two towns over from Lij, a child who came to Ketterdam with an idealist elder brother who was barely a teenager and simply hopping to find some kind of peace for them in the world, a child who had the brief glimmers of hope returned to him snatched away just as quickly, a child who held his brother as he died and was thrown in a fucking plague pit alongside him, a child who was forced to use his brother’s corpse to keep him aloft in the harbour to survive, a child who couldn’t go back and close his brother’s eyes because he knew that is he stepped into the water again eh wouldn’t be able to thing himself to crawl back out of it. Rollins doesn’t know anything. The boy simply came from nowhere, and had been a slew of trouble since.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Robbie Jennings x fem!reader

Summary: Your brother causes a misunderstanding between you and Robbie.

Genre: Fluff, blurb <3

Warnings: brother's best friend trope, underage characters (robbie is 17 and reader is 16), first kiss, misunderstandings

It feels like a dream watching him up there; his brown hair falls messily over his eyes, long fingers gliding over the strings of his guitar. The friends you came with have wandered off somewhere, probably to find some snacks or a drink, but you're too enthralled to even move.

"You're drooling," a voice drawls, causing you to spin your head around and see your older brother, Robbie's best friend, standing beside you as he nudges your shoulder, a grin curling his lips.

"No, I'm not," you argue, feeling embarrassed.

"He'd never date you, y'know," your brother says, his lips curling as if it won't hurt your feelings, and he misses the way your entire face falls. "You're so not his type. Plus, he said so himself—you're too young for him—"

Your heart constricts and you feel like you can't breathe. You glance up at Robbie, accidentally meeting his gaze as he sends you that precious smile and you feel sick. "Excuse me," you whisper and turn away, needing air or even a ride home.

You wander around, searching for your friends but they're nowhere to be seen. "Oi, Y/l/n?" another male voice interrupts your thoughts and you tense up. You were just about to find your coat and leave. You force a smile when you turn to the boy.

"Hi, Tom," you say, looking around. "Jas went home with Georgia and—"

He looks out of breath as he holds his hand on his knees. He's bending forward and he shakes his head in your face, as if wanting you to listen and stay put. You frown. He's being weird. Your stomach sinks and you wonder if your brother had said anything to him—after all he is Robbie's twin brother.

"Are you leaving?" Tom asks once he's regained his breath.

You're even more confused. "Yeah? It's late and I have loads of homework—"

"Wait, um, can't you stay? They only have one more song to play. I know it would mean a lot to my brother if you stayed. He—well, he should tell you."

It would mean a lot to Robbie if you stayed? What did that even mean? That familiar feeling of hope sinks in, only to be crushed by the reminder of your brother's words and heat crawls up your neck to your cheeks. Still, you're curious and that curiosity wins as you agree to stay until the setlist is over.

Once, it is, you stay by the bar as you play with the straw of your Shirley Temple. Your brother greets his friends, patting them on the back, and whispers something in Robbie's ear as the latter sends you a glance, his cheeks a little pink from what you assume was from the heat of the overhead lights on the stage. You look away, poking at the bottom of your glass with the straw.

Should you just leave? This is agonizing.

Still, your heart flutters when Robbie calls your name.

"Hi," you say when he leans against the bar next to you. He's smiling, his blue eyes gazing across your features.

"Thanks for coming," Robbie places his hand over yours on the bar, and then he tilts his head and adds with a laugh, "Well, for staying—"

"Your brother wouldn't let me leave," you laugh awkwardly. You never know how to act when he's this close to you. Robbie's eyes sparkle and he nods. He looks quite proud of himself.

"Yeah," he says, rubbing his nape as he laughs. "I asked him to make sure you didn't leave. I- I have a question I've been wanting to ask you."

You nod, still fiddling with the straw as you focus on Robbie and not his laughing bandmates and your brother in the background. Robbie doesn't seem to notice your unease because he jumps right into the question, unaware of your worry.

"Will you got out with me?" he blurts out.

Your eyes widen. "Pardon?" You whisper, staring at Robbie like he’d suddenly grown two heads.

The poor boy looks just as confused now. "Y-yeah. Like on a date? We can go to the arcade or—"

Your brother laughs from behind, pushing on one of the band members and your heart thumps against your chest. Is this some cruel joke? Is that way your brother had said what he’d?

Tears fill your eyes. "You're being mean," you whisper, looking at Robbie and his heart shatters.

"Wait—" he calls but you're already rushing out the door. Confused and determined to make this better, Robbie follows you.

"Y/n, wait, please," Robbie jogs up to you and takes your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. "Did I do something wrong?"

You wipe at your tears with your palm. "I don't want to talk to you right now," you whisper and try and push by him but he won't let you. Your tears only fall quicker.

"Please," Robbie pleads and his thumb presses against your cheek, wiping a tear. You jerk your head and shove his hand away.

"Did my brother put you up to this?"

"Put me up to what?"

"This! Using the feelings I have for you as a way to have a good laugh. Because it's not funny. I know you wouldn't date me. He said so himself!" you ramble, outstretching your arm towards the window and Robbie turns to look inside where your brother and his friends are laughing and joking around.

Turning back to you, Robbie's gaze is hard: "Your brother never said anything about your feelings, Y/n, and I certainly never said you weren't my type! I've been crushing on you since year one!"

You fall silent, your cheeks still wet from tears.

Robbie walks closer and cups your cheek. "I like you. I really like you," he smiles.

You're star struck. "Y-you do?"

Robbie hums and dips his head. He kisses you, quick and light, and then pulls away. Your lips tingle and your eyes are wide. Without thinking, you wrap your arm around him and pull him into you as you kiss him back. It's clumsy and still a little rushed, but it feels like a real first kiss.

When he pulls away, he nuzzles his nose against yours and asks, "Whatever your idiot brother said, he was wrong. You need to know that," he says and presses another kiss to your lips.

You nod, smiling. You relax and Robbie grins.

"Good. Saturday at the Arcade?"

You nod again, still too shocked to say much else and when Robbie leans down and whispers, "And don't tell your brother just yet, will ya? I need to make him sweat a little for messing with you like that," you just laugh, smiling wider than you ever have.

[ficnation]

Dead Girl Walkin'#2

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female! Reader

Warnings: sickness, usual the walking dead themes

Word count: 1k+

A/n: Let's get into those flashbacks! Hope you enjoy it!

Main Masterlist || Daryl Dixon Masterlist

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Your sickness got worse. So much worse.

And you were all alone with it—until Daryl and Merle showed up.

At first, Daryl didn’t know why Merle bothered. He wasn’t the kind of guy to play nursemaid, and he sure as hell wasn’t the type to stick around when things got tough. But for some reason, he kept dragging Daryl back to that rundown trailer in the middle of nowhere, like it was just another stop on their endless list of bad decisions.

Being there for you was probably the best decision the two of them had ever made.

But it wasn’t.

And you let them in—not just into your house but into your life and heart.

Daryl didn’t get that either. You should’ve known better, should’ve realized they would only bring trouble and heartbreak. It never ended well with him and Merle around. Then again, Daryl figured you didn’t have much left to lose anyway.

You were getting worse by the day, skin paler than it had any right to be, bones jutting out where they hadn’t before. Every time he saw you, it was like looking at a ghost that hadn’t figured out it was dead yet.

And still, you smiled.

Even now, coughing up blood into a tissue, you grinned at them from your spot on the couch like it was just another Tuesday.

“At this point, the Grim Reaper must be scared of me,” you wheezed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Just doesn’t wanna show the fuck up.”

Merle let out one of those wild, barking laughs of his, shaking his head. “Shit, girl, I don’t blame him. You’re stubborn as hell.”

“Damn right.” You stretched, wincing, but you didn’t let it show too much. “I oughta start charging him rent if he’s just gonna keep circling and never really move in.”

Daryl didn’t laugh. He just stood there, arms crossed, watching you like you might disappear between one breath and the next.

Because you might.

Merle, either oblivious or just refusing to acknowledge reality, sprawled out in the recliner across from you, kicking his boots up on the coffee table. “So, what? You gonna outlive all of us just to spite that bony bastard?”

“That’s the plan.”

You and Merle grinned at each other like it was all some big joke.

Daryl didn’t think it was funny.

You were wrapped in that same old blanket you always had, the one with holes in it, the one you swore was perfectly fine even though Daryl had half a mind to steal it and replace it with something that wasn’t falling apart.

That night, when Merle was outside smoking and talking shit on the phone to some guy Daryl didn’t care about, he sat on the couch beside you. Not too close—just close enough to remind himself you were still here.

Your hands trembled when you reached for the glass of water on the coffee table. Daryl saw it before you could pretend otherwise and handed it to you instead.

You nodded in thanks, taking a slow sip before leaning your head back against the couch. “You’re quiet tonight.”

Daryl huffed, staring at a crack in the wall. “Ain’t got nothin’ to say.”

“Yeah, you do.”

He glanced at you, scowling. “No, I don’t.”

You smirked like you knew some big secret. “You get all quiet when you’re mad about something.”

Daryl looked away. He didn’t want to admit you were right. Didn’t want to admit that his heart skipped a beat because you noticed that little fact about him.

You sighed, running your fingers over the rim of the glass. “You don’t gotta be mad for me, y’know.”

He clenched his jaw. “Ain’t mad.”

You gave him a look, all sharp and knowing. “Bullshit.”

Daryl inhaled through his nose, tapping his fingers against his knee. His hands felt restless, like they should be doing something—fixing something, fighting something. But there wasn’t shit to fight. Nothing he could win anyway.

“I don’t like seein’ you like this.” The words came out rougher than he meant, but they were the truth.

You exhaled slowly. “I know.”

“Feels like…” He trailed off, frowning.

“Like what?”

Daryl shook his head, restless energy thrumming under his skin. “Like you’re just sittin’ here waitin’ to die.”

You didn’t look surprised by that. Maybe you’d already thought the same thing yourself. Maybe you’d been thinking it longer than he had.

After a long pause, you said, “I don’t think I’m waiting to die. I think I’m just trying to live while I still can.”

Daryl swallowed hard, shifting in his seat. “That ain’t much better.”

You shrugged. “It’s all I got.”

And maybe that was what pissed him off the most.

That you’d accepted it. That you weren’t fighting. That you were making jokes about the damn Grim Reaper instead of doing something.

He knew it wasn’t fair. Knew this wasn’t something you could punch your way out of. But that didn’t stop the anger from curling hot and sharp in his chest.

Didn’t stop him from wanting to do something.

You must’ve seen it written all over his face because you sighed and nudged his arm with your knee. “C’mere, Dixon.”

He frowned. “For what?”

You patted the couch beside you. “Just come here.”

Daryl hesitated, then shifted closer. You tugged the edge of your blanket over his lap and leaned your head against his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Daryl froze, shoulders tense. “The hell you doin’?”

“Relax, would you?” You sighed, closing your eyes. “You feel like a damn rock.”

He let out a breath through his nose but didn’t move away.

“You ever just let yourself be still?” you murmured.

He didn’t answer.

You hummed, like you already knew. “You should try it sometime.”

Daryl stayed stiff for a long moment before slowly letting himself relax.

Just a little.

Your breathing was steady, soft—like maybe, for the first time in a while, you weren’t in pain. Like his presence was better than any painkiller you’d ever taken.

And for the first time in a while, Daryl let himself believe—for just a second—that maybe you’d still be here tomorrow.

If not for yourself, then for him.

[leafbowl]

Dick Grayson was okay with loving a boy if it didn't mean loving Wally West.

Wally West was okay with loving Dick Grayson if it didn't mean loving a boy.

Dick found out at a very young age that he wasn't straight. His mother and father didn't care about sexuality and let Dick express himself however he saw fit as long as he wasn't hurting himself or others. And, come on, Brucie Wayne? He's slept with almost all of Gotham and countless others, man, woman or otherwise.

Dick was pansexual. He didn't mind what his partners were as long as they cared for him and he cared for them. The first person Dick ever loved was a woman. Barbara Gordon. He dated her, and then his friend and fellow Titan Koriand'r (aka Starfire). He was well into his twenties when he realised his love for his best friend. A love he realised was so gut wrenchingly painful. Why? Why did he have to love Wally West? The speedster that was his best friend, had been since they were children. He hated it. Every moment was agony. After figuring it out, everytime Dick looked at Wally, at his best friend, his lung felt fragile, his chest threatening to cave in if he took another breath.

Kori and Barbara were there for him, and then so was Roy. Roy Harper, one of his other best friends. Someone who he turned to when he was upset. Someone he slept with because he was in pain. Someone who did not fault him for his moment of weakness. Roy didn't hate Dick after they slept together, didn't yell when Dick admitted to why he had initiated it after so long being friends. Roy just held his friend while Dick cried, promising him that he was alright, that he did nothing wrong. He had to talk to Wally. Roy told him he had to talk to Wally.

Wally found out he loved Dick Grayson the moment they met. But no, he didn't love Dick like that. No, because he wasn't gay. He wasn't. God, what his parents would do if they found out, what his dad would do. He knew his Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris wouldn't care if he was (he wasn't he wasn't he swears) but his dad... Wally's father was not a nice man. If Wally told him (he wouldn't because he wasn’t and he didn’t like Dick like that or any boy like that. He liked girls. He promised) then he would hit. He'd get angry and he'd hit Wally. Maybe hit him so bad he had to go to the hospital although his fast metabolism is useful for multiple reasons (he doesn't particularly think that it's good for hiding child abuse is a good reason but it's a reason nonetheless).

Wally didn't like Dick like that, no, but if Dick were a girl then... maybe Wally wouldn't spend nights awake, dread swirling in his stomach, if Dick was a girl. If Dick was a girl then maybe Wally wouldn't suppress the butterflies in his stomach whenever he trained with his best friend, maybe he wouldn't pretend and tell himself they were something else. If Dick were a girl then maybe Wally would love him- would be okay with loving him. But Dick was not a girl. He wasn't a girl so Wally didn't love him. He didn't want to kiss him. He didn't want to hold him and have him tell Wally he loved him the way he did with Barbara. God, it killed Wally to see them together. Maybe he liked Barbara... Maybe he wanted a relationship that badly. Yeah. That was it. He wasn't gay.

But maybe if he was and that hurt got too much and he was worried, it was his obligation to make sure he was alright. Flash couldn't break down in the middle of a fight because there was something wrong with him. He went to one of his best friends. Roy was welcoming when Wally showed up on his doorstep out of nowhere. Lian was at school. It was just the two of them. Roy made tea. Wally told him he thought something was wrong with him. Roy became worried. Then it just all came out. Wally broke down. He cried and he sobbed, all of that internalized homophobia being expressed to Roy, who pulled Wally into his arms and let the man rant about how he thought something was wrong with him- to listen as Wally promised over and over again that- I'm not gay. Roy, I- I can't be. I'm not. I don't like him like that. I don't. He's not- I'm not gay.

Roy was there for Wally as he always was. He patted the man's hair and told him in the softest way possible that it was okay. It took much more than that and much longer than that for Wally to be able to admit it but Roy was okay with their progress- he was proud of how far Wally had come. Especially when Wally told his aunt and uncle. Wally had started crying, clutching onto Roy's hand so tightly his knuckles went white. Roy didn't mind, only squeezed back to assure Wally that he was there, that there was nothing wrong and that he was so proud. Barry had hugged him so tightly when the words finally came out of Wally's mouth. Iris cried. They both assured Wally that they loved him very much and would never ever stop.

After convincing Barry and Iris Wally wasn't dating Roy (they were still skeptical, even by the end of it), they asked if he was dating anyone. If he liked anyone. Wally froze and Roy worried that all of his progress would disappear. Roy hadn't mentioned Dick but Iris and Barry were looking with such comfortable expressions and when Wally's shoulders smoothed out and he said he thinked he liked someone, Roy was so so fucking proud. Iris and Barry could both tell they weren't supposed to press so they didn't.

Shortly after, Roy went to have coffee Dick. Shortly after that, Roy subtly tried to convince Wally to talk to Dick. Roy figured that if Wally were prepared to have that conversation, when Dick brought it up, he wouldn't freeze up and run. Roy really hoped he wouldn't.

He didn't. Roy was Wally's best man at their wedding.

[diced-sugar]

Miscellaneous Whump Prompts

I often wish that there was more whump content focused on recovery, so I will be the change that I want to see in the world and put out some whump prompts I wrote a few months ago today! I have to say, I am a bit shy about this but still 😭

These are just miscellaneous prompts that I came up with at random. Some of them have a theme and go together and others don't. I grouped them together based on that, but other than that it's just a bunch of random stuff. Almost all of it is whumperless whump because that's what I usually prefer, but I have one in there that's directly tied to a whumper.

Anyway, here it is! Enjoy! (I hope)

Whumpee is injured and exhausted, but the team is in a place with hostile terrain and no hope of finding a bed. The only place that they can comfortably nap is on Caretaker’s chest.

Everyone on the team is hopelessly tired, but fighting their way through extremely hostile terrain and having no hope of finding a proper place to stop and rest. The team has no choice but to cast a protective bubble with magic over their heads, huddle together, and pile against one another to sleep, hoping that their shared warmth and familiarity will provide enough comfort for them to rest.

Whumpee has been historically scared of doctors, but now they’re left with nowhere to go but the doctor after they began suffering from a serious injury/medical condition. They’re incredibly nervous on the way in, but once they get to the examination room, they find that the doctor, Caretaker, is so kind, gentle, and understanding that their worries just wash away.

Whumpee has been taking medicine for some kind of illness or infection, but the medicine is heavy on their body. Pushed too far in some way, they start throwing up unexpectedly, and Caretaker comforts them when Whumpee apologizes over and over for dirtying their things.

Whumpee has been pushed to the brink of exhaustion by their work, and is too exhausted to complete their nighttime routine when the time comes, and usually just passes out on the couch. So, one night Caretaker helps them through each step—brushing and flossing teeth, taking a nice, hot bath, and finally getting them tucked into bed for a good night’s rest.

Whumpee has been overloaded with work, and just can’t ever get a break. Caretaker notices that they have also been taking quite a few days off this year, in spite of how much is constantly piled on their plate. One day, Whumpee comes to work even having trouble walking from their exhaustion, and Caretaker confronts them. Turns out that, probably thanks to some of their stress, Whumpee has been having a slew of medical problems, and they’ve lost the will to care for themself after everything they’ve been put through. All those days off were just days they simply could not come into work. Caretaker takes matters into their own hands and promises to care for Whumpee until they’re well again, and to not think about work.

A paranoid Whumpee who is traveling with Caretaker. Night falls in a deep, dark forest they’re walking through, and Whumpee’s fears begin to get the better of them, and they fear that a monster will come attack them while they sleep. Caretaker holds them from behind as they rest on the sleeping mat in their tent, and assures them that they will protect them, no matter what.

Feral Whumpee on the run and being actively chased by Whumper and their forces. Whumpee manages to get out of their reach, and taunts and laughs at Whumper from their perch... only to feel a prick in their neck, and suddenly everything goes dark, having been tranquilized.

Whumpee has no appetite thanks to illness or their period. Caretaker helps them eat their food and gently encourages them.

Anyway, that's all I have for now :D maybe I will post more in the future! Also, I know that they were quite long so obviously you don't have to do the full scenario, I just love my embellishments. If anyone happens to use these I would love to be tagged!

[lyfrassireddatsct]

Lyf wasn't panicking. They weren't-- they weren't panicking. Just because another one of their counterparts might be being actively injured to dying in front of them didn't mean shit, right? That. It wasn't their fault again just because they'd contributed, right?

Lyf, Lyf, you're not allowed to--

"Von Raum, you can suck eggs," they muttered, moving towards the door of the cell. "And if that's barely a scratch, then Stell's whole blood pouring from everywhere was a paper cut."

They looked around for any sort of weapon, and came up practically empty handed. All they had were wires, and those pastries, and a mysterious blanket out of nowhere. And--

Well. One pastry managed to hit Odin right in one of her big, terrible heads. That was useful, at least. A bundle of wires hit her next, rolled up into a ball, just when she was about to try biting their counterpart again. More useful than anything else Lyf had managed to do so far. And then if they concentrated. . .

"Dream," they said, panting slightly. "Airlock's unlocked. I think."

Lyf doesn't notice when they start dreaming.

They only know that, at one moment, they are in the cell they've locked themself in. Trying to tell themself that this will keep people safe. That it'll work. And then--

And then they can hear Odin's laughter, in the distance. In their head, or on the ship, they don't know.

All they know is that something is wrong.

And then, all of the sudden, they also know that they are not alone in the brig area once more.

"Go away," they say, not bothering to look. "If it's Von Raum again, I told you last time."

-- @lyfrassireddatsct

Even after almost half a century, Lyf couldn’t help but feel that age-old feeling of helplessness and panic creeping up in the back of their throat. It didn’t look anything like their old cell, but the bars and the shackles on the walls were close enough.

They tried to swallow back their memories, instead offering a smile to their counterpart. They were lucky they couldn’t see them: they doubted it was reassuring.

“Not your Marius.” They reassured. “Thought you might like some help from someone Odin can’t hurt.”

[annyankers]

I’m once again irrationally mad about how people complain about the magic metaphors in buffy work (the whole dark magic=addiction, wicca = gay shit thing).

Like I cannot express how frustrating it is to see people bitching about how things like Dark Willow “don’t make sense” because “magic/Wicca was a originally metaphor for queerness“ or whatever as tho the first two major episodes in the series where magic was used (1x3 “Witch” and 2x8 “Dark Ages” ) weren’t all about the dark/inappropriate/destructive/abusive use of magic.

People loooooooveeeeee Giles’ past as Ripper and delight over things like “Band Candy” where we see him go Full Ripper but cannot for the life of them seem to remember that we first even LEARNED ABOUT THAT PART OF HIM IN DARK AGES WHERE HE TALKED ABOUT BASICALLY MAGICALLY PARTYING SO HARD HIS FRIEND DIED. THIS IS OUR FIRST MAJOR CHARACTER EPISODE THAT’S GOT MAGIC AS A MAIN FOCAL ELEMENT! THIS IS THE ORIGINAL METAPHOR!

The queerness is still kinda baked in there because of the Ethan Of It All but it’s first and foremost a metaphor about like, all the shit that classically leads to substance abuse and the worst outcomes that can come from it. Willow and Tara are an example of the “good” side of magic ( I’ll say Jenny is also in this section but they do so fucking little w/ her technopagan-ness so). They’re also pretty explicitly said to be “Wiccans” which I also have some issues with because of how Wicca is portrayed/talked about in the show (the Silver RavenWolf energy of it all is so galling). But like, that’s literally a whole fucking different subsection/practice of witchcraft/magic. This is like getting mad at water polo for muddling the metaphor of jet skiing. Like yes, they both are water sports but I think you’ll that they’re not the same fucking one and work completely differently.

Magic is not just 1 set of spells and rituals, it’s a multifaceted, multilayered, multi-pathed thing. With Giles we see how it can go Very Wrong and with Willow and Tara in S4-5 we see how it can go Very Right (and how it can be used to help get the Gay in the show around the Fox Censors). Willow increasingly having issues with magic/substance abuse is NOT a mixed metaphor/bad writing/ruining the gay metaphor and implying gays are bad. It’s USING THE OTHER ALREADY ESTABLISHED MAGIC METAPHOR AS PART OF HER CHARACTER ARC. WILLOW CAN BE QUEER AND ALSO HAVE A SUBSTANCE ABUSE ISSUE! GILES ARGUABLY DID IT FIRST ANYWAY (again, the Ethan Of It All)!

Willow has ALWAYS been insecure, a lil bit of a control freak, someone who wants to be HER REAL SELF and also someone TOTALLY DIFFERENT. Like she wants to be Willow but only if it’s a Willow who’s better/cooler/stronger/prettier etc. Someone who’s not the “pathetic loser” she still sees herself as even in season 6 and hasn’t totally shaken in season 7. These desires both to feel more In Control/Better and Not Yourself are classic reasons people will turn to substance abuse. For Willow is it MUCH easier to do a wizard spell to “fix” a problem than it is to like, fucking confront her issues of self-loathing and self-worth and like.... go to therapy. And that’s what gets her in trouble just like it has for so many others before her. Like in many ways Dark/Addict Willow is like seeing Giles’ Ripper Era live and on screen plus maybe a lil bit on steroids.

Magic can be used as part of more than 1 metaphor and the substance abuse metaphor came first. Stop pretending like it never existed in the show until season 6.

[rachiqueen]

It took Rachi a while to catch his breath after the way Aisoon had fucked him into the bathroom stall door. His eyes were still glazed over, sparkling, but hyper-aware to Aisoon's movements, watching him carefully. Rachi hadn't just fucked him for fun - he had a purpose, a reason, and he needed to see it through. His contract would benefit both of them, if Aisoon accepted it, and he had yet to receive an answer despite being on his best behaviour for the escort. He had done his part so so well, surely Aisoon wouldn't leave him hanging, right? He wouldn't be that cruel to Rachi, would he?

Pressing a kiss against Aisoon's lips was the last thing Rachi could do to convince him to accept his proposal. It was gentle compared to the way they fucked. Borderline intimate, which would usually send Rachi running. But for Aisoon, for that possibility of having him whenever he wanted, no strings attached, Rachi could do it. He could be whatever the man wanted him to be.

Except his...

Aisoon had done up his jeans, having cleaned himself up before doing so, already looking to leave. Rachi remained naked from the waist down, could feel remnants of the man's cum dripping slowly from his hole and down his thighs, hoping that a final look at his body would help in his endeavour. And when Aisoon reached to hold him by the chin, Rachi felt a flutter of hope in his chest. He was waiting to hear it. Yes, he wanted Aisoon to say. I accept.

Except, this close, when Rachi got a good look at Aisoon's face, he felt that hope faltering. And instead of agreeing, Aisoon said...

"I'll think about it."

Rachi blinked up him, knowing what that meant. Stubbornly, he didn't want to let Aisoon go after that. Wanted to sit him down and demand he reconsider, offer his body for another round, even if he was already filled and aching. He could ride him, he could suck him again, he could hump his fucking leg like a dog in heat, anything so long as Aisoon took those words back and changed his mind...

Letting out a shaky sigh, knowing there was nothing more he could do for the time being, Rachi leaned back, pulling away from Aisoon as the man unlocked the bathroom stall. Their voyeur had left earlier, Rachi having heard the squeak of the swinging door earlier, so the bathroom was empty, but it felt even emptier when the escort left without another word.

Shakily, Rachi wiped himself clean as best as he could before sliding his underwear back up his legs, followed by his pants. His shirt rubbed harshly against his chest, where his nipples had been played with, and there was no denying that he was walking with a very noticeable limp now compared to when he first came in.

Deflated, Rachi quickly washed his hands, drying them on his pants before exiting. He made a beeline to the front of the cafe, ignoring the looks of the patrons seated at the tables close to the bathroom - he had been loud, and wouldn't be surprised if they had heard the way he had moaned like a whore for Aisoon. The staff members too, seemed to hover, most likely to tell Rachi to leave - however, an embarrassed Rachi was already headed to the door to avoid that conversation.

Rachi exited, looking around one final time to see if Aisoon had somehow was lingering. He had said no, but it was never too late to change his mind. The offer was on the table, and Rachi didn't plan on removing it. But... Aisoon was nowhere in sight.

Sighing, Rachi took out his phone to call for a ride. He had walked here but there was no way he could walk back, not when his ass throbbed with every step, reminding him of what he was missing out on. He had to have hope that Aisoon would come back to him - but until then, Rachi would have to be patient...

[ end ]

"A-ack-! U-urk-! A-aisoonnnnn~" Rachi's throat was tight but he couldn't stop shouting the other's name, Aisoon's fingers gripping him like a vice, causing the man's vision to swim as he road out one of the strongest, bone shattering orgasms of his entire life. He didn't know how Aisoon did it, but every time they had sex it only got better and better, blowing his mind away with how fucking incredible it felt. He was fucked senseless, choking on the hand that wrapped around his throat, his cock spilling he seed for what felt like forever, leaving a sticky mess all over his skin, Aisoon's hand, and the fucking stall door he was pressed up against. Outside, he heard a grunt, a sharp intake of breath, the watcher clearly enjoying the show that was being put on even if all he saw of it was through the small gap between the door and wall of the stall.

Aisoon released him and Rachi sucked in a breath of air. He turned to face Aisoon, leaning against the door, trying to catch his breath when the other demanded him to get on his knees and suck that huge cock that he had been dreaming about for weeks now. And Rachi didn't even care that he was still half-breathless and delirious, that his cock was overstimulated and aching despite having just painted the walls with his cum - he sunk onto the floor so quickly it's like he was pulled down by an invisible hand. His pink mouth parted to accept Aisoon's fingers, licking up his own cum with a loud moan while the man gripped his hair tight.

"Remember, you have an audience… Show them how lewd your mouth is… How you much you love my cock."

"F-fuckkkk, g-give it to m-mfffff," Rachi was cut off when Aisoon shoved his length inside his wet mouth, saliva immediately coating the hardened cock that seemed even bigger than before. It had just been inside his ass, drilling against his prostate, sending him to heaven, and Rachi sucked on it like his life depended on it. His nails dug crescent shapes into Aisoon's thick thighs as he gagged loudly around the man's cock that stuffed him full, his cheeks puffed out while wet noises echoed through the bathroom. He couldn't made one coherent sound like this, even though he tried. Love your cock teerak, Rachi wanted to say despite the mouthful of cock that had him instead moaning and gagging and choking. Want it deeper. Choke me with it. Make me taste you for days, weeks. Want to swallow your cum until I'm bursting, fuck my whore mouth til I can't talk anymore, fuuuuckk-

Muffled, wet, gagged noises came deep from Rachi's throat as he swallowed more of Aisoon in, fresh tears dripping from his blurry vision as his oxygen was cut off every time the man thrust inside of him. He couldn't get enough, he could do this all day, on his knees with nothing but Aisoon's cock to keep him full and stretched and satisfied.

Rachi could feel the way Aisoon's hot length twitched in he mouth, and he was ready to swallow every last salty drop if Aisoon decided to finish in there but the man instead pulled out, yanking Rachi to his feet and letting their mouths clash in a violent kiss. "Fuckkk," Rachi moaned loudly between the kisses. He could taste the saltiness of Aisoon on his tongue as it twisted against the other's, saliva trailing from the sides of his mouth and mixing in with the wet tears that dripped down his chin.

"Gimme that ass, spread it for me."

Rachi's back collided with the door of the stall when Aisoon pushed him against it, the loud sound invading the otherwise quiet bathroom. By now, Rachi's underwear had totally slipped down to the ground, joining his neglected pants and exposing his long and creamy legs. He steadied himself on one leg as Aisoon lifted up the other, exposing the hole that had just been pounded by him not long ago, stretched out and ready for more. "You gonna fill me up good, teerak?" Rachi panted as he reached for Aisoon's cock, squeezing it as he guided it towards his waiting hole. He dragged the wetness against his fluttering entrance, relaxing his body and releasing a shaky breath as he slipped it inside. He moaned loudly when as soon as it entered him, Aisoon thrust in powerfully, with Rachi now splaying his arms back on the unstable door behind him for purchase. His body was shoved back against the wood as Aisoon stuffed his cock deep inside of him, pounding at his ass with powerful thrusts.

"G-god~!" Rachi screamed, throwing his head back on the door, hearing the way it slam slam slammed from the strength of Aisoon's fucking, his ass smacking back against it. He was on his tip-toes, while his right leg was up behind Aisoon's shoulders, his hole sucking that huge cock in as if it didn't want to let go. His own dick quivered, fully spent and aching from having been empty, but it stirred with warmth, swaying with the movement of his body. "F-fuck me til I can't walk," Rachi mewled, reaching around to hold onto Aisoon's shoulders. "W-wanna feel your cock for days, f-fill me with your cum- ahhhhh A-aisoon sogoodsogoodsogoodddd~"

Aisoon drew him in for a kiss, which Rachi moaned into, a small cry escaping him when the other bit down on his lower lip. The sting, the pain, it reddened his full and pink lips, nearly breaking the skin, and Rachi loved it. Aisoon's hand lifted up to grab his throat again, and Rachi sucked in a sharp breath as his fingers choked his neck, a constant pressure that had him straining to breath. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and his mouth was parted in a pant as Aisoon hammered at his ass. The hips that thrust against Rachi's heated body stuttered as a warmth filled him on the inside, the dancer almost unable to take another breath as Aisoon's cum painted his soft walls. His hole clenched around the man's cock, gripping it in place, not wanting a single drop to escape, even though there was so much of it that it was an impossible task. Droplets leaked out from the rim of Rachi's hole, dribbling down the back of his ass and his thighs.

And it wasn't just Aisoon that came. From outside of the stall, a grunt from their audience member and a hard smack against the door had Rachi knowing exactly what happened out there - clearly, the show they had put on was effective. Through the gap he could hear the laboured breathing, it matched his own, as their watcher also tugged at his cock with wet noises before letting out a cry as they came too, most likely all over themselves.

"F-fuck," Rachi breathed, placing a hand against his lower stomach, swearing that he felt Aisoon's cum reach all the way there. It was hot. How could he even go about his day like this? Even if he decided to go home he'd still be walking while his stomach was full of Aisoon, ass stinging from the man's length. He anticipated that he'd feel that way for day. God. He could get hard again just thinking about it.

Slowly, Rachi pulled his leg down from where it rested on Aisoon's shoulder, trying to steady himself, resting his hands on the other's chest to do so. He was wobbly, and now the pain in his ass could be felt in full force - he doubted he could walk in a straight line. "A-aisoon," Rachi sighed happily, gazing at the man in front of him. "D-do you see what you do to me?" He asked, his voice scratchy from how much he had screamed. "Do you see what you could do to me whenever you wanted?" Rachi continued, leaning forward to kiss the man's lips softly. He was pulling out every trick in the book, desperate not to lose this man to anyone else.

[our-song-of-hope]

Finished the pictomancer questline. Both the job & quests are very good :)

[slothydaydreamer]

Ep 1-5 of Good Omens Season 2: lol this is just like a fanfiction coming true, visualised on the screen, amazing work everyone, we're having a good time here

The first 40 minutes of episode 6: holy shit, this is going into hyper mode fanfiction what is even happening, did they really just cram that into the last episode? This is sickingly cute but what—

The last 15 minutes of episode 6: the most agonizing moments of my life, crawling at a snail pace, I'm stopping every few seconds because I'm in distress and can't bear it, what is even happening, how, why, HOW? Contemplating my life decisions, especially making the decision to binge this and be left in shambles

[rex3o]

Doting wife

Royal au! Sukuna x Reader

Being the emperors wife was something that you would have not expected to be in the position of. Many would think being the emperors wife, would bring in love, happiness and luxury. Yet your husband would be nothing of the sorts, yes you heard of his reputation. A cold and ruthless emperor with a thriving empire, you entered his palace with big hopes and determination of changing him to be a loving husband.

oh how wrong you was.

After 4 years of marriage and a heir to his throne, he was as cold and ruthless the day you met him. Every interaction was short or met with silence. You put effort in your duties as his wife and empress to the empire to impress him. Yet nothing. You wore his favourite colour. Nothing. You did your make up differently. Nothing. You tried talking to him about things he was interested... and nothing. He was not phased. During the birth of your son, he was nowhere to be seen only to come in the following morning and smile at the sight of his son. yet when his red eyes met yours his smile dropped.

So here you sat in the royal gardens watching your three year old son chase a butterfly with his toy sword. Letting your mind wander, you had tried everything.. what was you not doing that he hasn't even dropped a single thought on you. Your lady in waiting looked at you a bit confused as you continued to stare hardly at nothing.

"Your majesty" she says softly yet anxiously, as she looks at you while drifting her eyes to whatever thing you was staring at.

"hmm" you say.

"are you uh.. quite alright you seem to be staring at.." as she is lost for words.

You snap out of your thoughts and look at her, your eyes widening a little.

"oh apologises, I seemed to have lost myself in thought."

She exhales as she smiles at you.

"oh that is fine.. may I ask about what?"

"oh nothing.. you know.. thoughts." you say not really wanting to indulge on the countless attempts of getting your husband to even give a glance at you.

Your eyes land back on your son as you find him aggressively hitting the dead bug on the ground. Definitely his father's son. You thought. You got up from your seat as you approached your son to stop his insane antics and bring him back inside. The boy huffs and drops his toy sword and runs back inside as you followed after him, walking back inside the palace you spot Sukuna walking with several of his advisors, as they head somewhere. You do not let your eyes linger for long as you follow after where your son had ran off.

After several hours of chasing your son around the palace, you managed to catch him and get him ready for dinner. As you both head inside the dining hall, he runs and takes his space next to his father. Sukuna sat on his seat already busying himself with the food. You sit down and remain silent. How odd. You're never quiet at dinner. You ate your food only glancing at your son to see if he is eating like a proper boy and not gobbling his food like a damn animal.

Dinner goes swiftly, without a word as Sukuna finishes, you take your leave. He gives a quick glance at your figure.

The days went on, this new personality of yours. Quiet, not chatty as before. The little interactions of yours, well one sided conversations, with Sukuna went from infrequent to zero. He noticed this. As you slowly put your effort and interest into other things besides him. Sukuna would find himself at least hoping for a glance of you around the palace. Hell he would be even be satisfied by you uttering a single word at the dinner table. But no.

There you three was again at the table, silence except for your son's occasional ramble of what he did today to his father.

Sukuna bore his eyes onto you, as his son's yapping went from one ear to another. Gripping onto his utensils as he waits for your eyes to meet his, for you to utter something. Yet you sat on the opposite end eating your food finding the chandelier to be the most interesting thing you came across the whole day.

"Have we lost our manners suddenly." he blurts out annoyed.

You stop chewing as you slowly look at your husband, as if he grew a pair of wings and started to fly.

"pardon..." was the only thing you could conjure up.

"I am your husband, you are supposed to greet me, ask me how my day is.. have you forgotten your role wife?" he demands. Yet your clueless face irked him more.

".. uh- how was your day?" you ask, not knowing if you should or not. Sukuna grunts in response.

"that's more like it." Is all he says, as you remain confused for the remainder of the dinner.

Your interaction with Sukuna stuck out like sore thumb to you for the next couple of days. You did not know what to make of it. You stood silent, as the advisor chattered along on what to do for the next royal event. The advisor realising that your mind was on something else he quietened down waiting for you to speak. As you came back to reality, you looked at him confused.

"w-we can do this on another day empress if your feeling under the weather." he says anxiously. You just barked out a laugh.

"I am good, something had caught my attention, please continue." You say, as he goes continues. The door to the private meeting room swings open as Sukuna enters and makes his way next to you. The advisor taken aback looks at you if he should continue.

"Continue" Sukuna commands as the man starts his nervous ramble now more directed to Sukuna for the royal event. The meeting ends, the advisor leaves defeated as he didn't get much answers from the both of you.

This new behaviour of his continued, every day at least at one point of your day, he makes himself known and sit with you till he seems fit. He doesn't say anything some days but others he would demand you to say something, whatever it was you was doing on that day he will involve himself. Even if it was watching your son fight an imaginary dragon. But you did not back down. Yes this was entertaining watching your husband finally put some sort of an effort. So you kept this behaviour of yours up. Almost like a silent contest on who is going to break first.

As the day of the royal event dawned, you spoke to your guests, in your beautiful gown. Your presence captured everyone's attention.. even your husband. As a duke kindly asked for your hand for a dance. You took his request, as you both waltzed on the ballroom floor. As he lets you go for you to spin, you are met back with a familiar set of arms. Your eyes met your husbands crimson eyes.

You hold back your smile, as he lead you to dance. Everyone's lingering eyes drifted away, the music blending away in the back of your mind, as you both danced.

"You did not wear red.." Sukuna comments. You look back up at him.

"I have worn red too many times." You retort.

"Too many times.. even for your husband?"

All you did was shrug your shoulders, as his hand your waist tightens.

"You used to gab my ears off woman.. now your as silent as a mouse." He comments.

"And..?"

"Has my efforts not been enough.." He quietly says in your ear.

"You think, a couple weeks of you spending some time with me, making me question you is effort" you say back in disbelief.

"It is something woman" he says slightly annoyed.

You look at him, as your smile slowly fades.

"I spent the last four years, catering to your needs, acting as a good wife to you.. yet the moment I stop you suddenly remember you have a wife and start acting like somewhat of a companion-"

"companion" he says offended. "I have treated you like a husband should, I spent time with you, I spoke to you, I provided you with a palace and riches."

"oh thank you for doing the bare minimum." as you push yourself away from him and composing yourself as you walked away from the ballroom floor. Sukuna stands there as he walks off the opposite direction not wanting to make a scene in front of his guests clearly annoyed.

While the event progresses, as all he could think about was you, what you said. He watched your every move, every word you uttered to your guests, every sip you took from your glass, every hand movement. He took note of it. He did not care if people realised he was staring you down. He couldn't wrap his head around how you could even think of speaking to him like that.

Was what he did not enough? Before you would swoon if he even said a word to you. Now you did not care. You would chatter his ear off about things you assumed he would be interested in. Now silence. All your efforts now gone.

What was he not doing to get you back to being his doting little wife.

part 2

-

big FAT authors note : I cannot lie guys I am not fit for long fics but yk what I can do... make one shots so please enjoy what my mind could conjure up for 15 minutes after having 3 cups of chai. Also I may have a thing for historical au I dunno. my head is NOT working. so pls if there is any mistakes do LMK!

- R

[pureomi]

˚୨୧⋆｡🍓˚ she see money all around me, i look like i'm the man

includes: itoshi sae x fem! reader. 0.8k wc. fluff.

a/n: provider sae, we all cheered !! inspired by that one tiktok trend lol

not much grabs itoshi sae's attention, so you have to get creative.

"sae, i can't help pay rent this month." even though he doesn't glance away from the computer screen, the twitch on his face is obvious. the furrowed brows, his fingers coming to a halt on the keyboard, the imaginary question mark brewing over his head—all of it subtle but still priceless.

to be fair, he doesn't even recall being this confused when his parents agreed to send him abroad at the ripe age of thirteen—that too, all by himself!

for someone as strict as itoshi sae, he should receive an award for how quickly he paused his work to simply process whatever the fuck just came out of your mouth. "you can't, what?" he finally says, still keeping his gaze focused on the screen.

this is harder than you thought. not the pranking part; the holding in your laughter part. you somehow manage to keep it in for the sake of the bit.

"yeah, i just don't have the money to help you pay our rent this month," you continue, further emphasizing your dilemma (knowing damn well it doesn’t exist) awaiting his reaction.

but of course, your prank backfires spectacularly. the dramatic reaction you were hoping for? nowhere to be found. instead, he just crosses his arms and finally turns his chair to stare at you like you're the ridiculous one in this scenario. sae leans back in his chair, letting linger another one of those infuriatingly calm looks that make you want to simultaneously throw something at him and admire how annoyingly composed he is. "i know?" he claimed, neutrally, with a quirk of his brow like...duhh?

he continued, not even trying to be offensive, just merely stating the facts he has gathered living with you over the years. "when have you ever paid rent?"

…why would you?

he’s suddenly wondering if, overnight, you forgot you’re itoshi sae’s girl. hell, he doesn’t even let you pay for something as little as webtoon coins—hence why he made sure his card info was saved on your phone. rent was too far of a stretch to claim, even as a joke, and you know this too.

with how adamant sae is, the world could collapse before he let you contribute a single penny.

but damn, did that make it make it hard for you to continue this act.

you open your mouth to say something, anything, to salvage the prank, but your brain is running on a blank slate. "i mean," you clear your throat, trying to recover. "it’s about the…principle? you know, of financial responsibility and, um—" sae tilts his head, looking wholly unimpressed. "do you even know how much rent is?" your mouth opens. closes. he waits. you scramble. "well, yeah, of course, i—" "how much?" he asks, deadpan. your lips part, but the number? nowhere to be found. you had not, at any point in your life, thought to ask. sae quirks a brow, clearly entertained by your pathetic attempt to keep going. he rests his chin in his palm, watching you struggle with the kind of calm that makes it painfully obvious he’s enjoying this. "you were saying?" he prompts, his voice laced with amusement. you huff, cheeks growing warm. "forget it. you ruined it." but before you can even sulk properly, sae reaches forward and hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you in with zero effort. a yelp escapes you as he shifts you into his lap, securing you there with both arms now locked around you. your heart does this stupid little thing where it stumbles over itself because you can feel the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his breathing, and—oh god—the way his lips are ridiculously close to your ear. "did i? or did you just get caught?" he murmurs, voice low and entirely too smug. "you—!" your hands instinctively grab onto his shoulders, trying to put some space between you two, but he doesn't let you. if anything, he picks you up to place you fully against his chest. "go on, finish your little act," he challenges, lips curling into a smirk. you glare at him, ignoring the rapid pounding of your heart. "i hate you." "yeah?" his voice is a quiet hum, teasing, daring you to keep going. "i guess that’s what i get for absolutely spoiling the shit out of my girlfriend." you pout, trying to look annoyed, but your resistance fades as you sink into his arms.

instead of staying smug, sae softens his grip just a little, his tone becoming more serious. "i take care of what’s mine, so don’t bother pulling tricks on me before you empty my bank account."

"do you understand?" he continues, his voice low and steady as he presses a gentle kiss to your temple. the softness of the gesture contrasts with the firmness of his words, leaving you to wonder how he always manages to make you this flustered every time. all you can do is just nod, giving in to the fact that your boyfriend is a rich snob who always gets his way—one you’re completely obsessed with, no less. seriously, what are you gonna do with him? 🤍

[systlin]

So, to explain my little adventure I just got back from, it is necessary to set the scene by explaining a few things.

My dog is a Great Pyraneese. She weighs 90 Pounds. It is mostly muscle.

My neighbors a quarter mile down the road have chickens. They like to let them free range.

Now, this is not a problem at all, EXCEPT for the fact that whenever Tyr sees them something deep in her little livestock guardian breed brain goes "Oh, I am supposed to be Responsible for this Livestock." She will attempt to plonk her 90 pound furry ass down as far towards their yard as her leash will permit and want to sit there and simply stare at the chickens. She is not aggressive towards them, she simply wants to lie down and Keep An Eye On Things, the way a good livestock guardian dog is supposed to. It is the same reason she would love to fight the foxes that live under the falling down farmhouse down the street to the death and is very upset that I will not let her.

The PROBLEM is, well

3. My neighbors also have a miniature poodle. She is convinced, in every cell of her 15 pound body, that No Other Dogs Should Come Anywhere Near Her Fucking Yard. She has no concept that Tyr outweighs her by 75 pounds and is absolutely convinced that she could win this fight.

Normally if she's outside she is out in the fenced backyard and this isn't a problem. I also don't let Tyr wander into other yards, because it's rude to let your dog pee on the neighbor's grass unless they've said they're fine with it and also I live in Fuckass Nowhere. There's plenty of county owned grass on the roadside for Tyr to pee on. Still, even if I'm coaxing her along past the chickens, she will want to slow down and drift over to that side of the road to look at them.

TODAY, however, the mini poodle was NOT in the backyard. She was in the unfenced front yard, and as soon as we walked past she saw another dog not ON her yard, but heading TOWARDS her yard, and she hurled herself into battle with no thought for her own safety.

Now, Tyr is not aggressive towards other dogs. There is an exception to this, though, and it is 'unless an off leash dog comes running full speed in the general direction of one of Her People while snarling and barking'. If this happens, I suddenly have 90 pounds of Great Pyr ready for mortal combat on the end of the leash.

This brings us to item 4

4. I broke my left arm in April and while it is healing and good for light use now, 'Light Use' does not include 'restraining 90 pounds of furious livestock guardian dog convinced her person is about to be attacked by a reactive dog'

This means that I looped up the leash short and controlled her one armed. I did not think about this twice particularly. I know I can do it and just. Did it. I wouldn't walk her if I couldn't control her, after all. Once she figured out that no, the poodle was NOT going to attack me, she calmed down, but was still growling.

But I did this as a panicked neighbor dude came running out to try and get his dog, convinced that his kids were about to watch their beloved pet get turned into Great Pyr chow.

Oh and

5. I did this while wearing a Wonder Woman tshirt

So, long story short, his 4 year old daughter is convinced now that I actually AM Wonder Woman, because "She's Strong Like Wonder Woman!" and my neighbor learned that his poodle dug out from under the fence, how's everyone else's days going.

(All dogs unhurt)