#Don’t you love it when. The moon covers the sun. And the sky gets all dark. During the day

[chaniceroses]

Bad Boys Ride or Die (Armando x Reader) PART SEVEN

The sun is barely out now while the darkness is slowly covering the sky. You’re seeing shadows within the woods, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It’s getting cold and you’re probably about a mile away from where Mike, Marcus and Armando were. You’re starting to regret walking away from them but what else were you supposed to do. Sit around and let McGrath find you since that’s what he’s been doing.

So you kept walking until you heard a soft sound of wood snapping which made you turn around. You couldn’t really see so you just stared into the abyss. Someone was most definitely there, the thought of it maybe being McGrath crossed your mind.

“Reveal yourself, I don’t have time for the games.”, you sighed trying to see past the trees. At this point the sun was completely gone and the moon was shining. Allowing you to see a tall dark figure move from behind the tree. You watched as the person started taking small steps towards you, it was Armando. Turning back around, you started to walk again when you noticed that the sound of branches and leaves started happening rapidly. He was running towards you so you started running too. Now we can play his games. You ran as fast as you could to get away from him, making random turns to confuse him. 

“Y/n! Stop!”He screamed while chasing you but you kept running. You tried picking up speed but were too tired so you stopped.

“Armando, have you been following me the whole fucking time.”, you asked,looking at him as he is also out of breath while walking up to you. You knew he was but wanted to play dumb, it was better that way.

“Y/n,you’re a smart girl, you knew that I was.”, he responded back pointing at you. You didn’t like how easy he could read you. How he knows you so well without really knowing you.

“Why won’t you just leave me alone man. I don’t need you.”, you knew that was a lie but it was better to say that then have Armando and the others involved in your mess when the whole purpose with us being out here is to prove Howard’s innocence.

He looked down at you, although you couldn’t entirely see his face, his eyes nearly glowed in the dark. “I don’t make promises at all because things always happen but you can trust me. Even if I don’t like you. I wouldn’t want my…a woman out here by herself. No matter what kind of “killer” I am.”, he explained, going off. He was mad and you could tell. His eyebrows were now caved in and you could tell that his breathing had picked up in speed.

You looked down and grabbed his hand and caressed his forearm. You weren’t sure whether to trust him or not, but you had no choice. You knew it would be a death sentence if you went to McGrath by yourself. You turned to look to the side and saw how you guys were overpowered by darkness, so you accepted your loss.

ARMANDO’S    POV

I watched as she looked around while rubbing my arm. Her hands were soft and her touch was making my friend smile. I could tell that she didn’t want to go back but honestly, she had no choice. I wouldn’t have allowed her to walk out here by herself, I would be a fool. 

“Come back with me, please.”, I begged. Me…Armando…Begging, this is new. 

She turned around and was now looking up at me. Her skin was as smooth as the night time, while her eyes twinkled. Damn, she’s sexy and the way she stares. I would love to see her staring at me from a different position.

“Focus.”, I whispered to myself. I watched as her facial expression changed from being worried to now being confused. Think of something.

“You..need to focus.”, I added, trying to come up with something. I watched as she shook her head in agreement.

“Well, show me the way.”, she replied, letting go of my arms and folding hers. I turned around and started heading towards  the direction that we came from. 

“Do you remember the way?”, she asked following behind me. Honestly, I didn’t but I also know that if Marcus and Mike did what they were supposed to do. We should be seeing a small fire from a distance.

“Yeah so come hold my hand so you won’t get lost.”, I commanded, handing my hand out behind me for her to grab. I was afraid that she would be hesitant to do so and for a second, all I could feel was air going in between my fingers. However once she connected her hands with mine, I could feel the warmth from our bodies connecting. It made me feel odd, a feeling I've never felt before. 

After a couple turns and a couple minutes of running, I spotted Marcus and Mike near the fire that I told them to make. We eventually met up with them and were greeted by the sounds of the woods. Not a single word was said. We both sat down, Y/n and I on one log and Marcus and Mike on the other. We could see each other clearly now due to the fire blooming out.

“So you’ve come back.”, Mike whispered looking at y/n across the fire. 

I watched as Marcus turned at Mike and whispered something to him. Y/n just stared. I wasn’t sure if she was looking at Mike or looking at the fire that was right in front of him. All I know is that she wasn’t here.

“Yeah, so what?”, she answered, still keeping her eyes at whatever she was looking at.

“What the hell is going on?!”Mike yelled, standing up while looking at every person.

“Calm down!”I yelled back. I didn’t like how he was talking to her. We all go through shit and lose people but he was attacking her for no reason.

“Seriously, this isn’t needed right now but Armando and y/n we do need answers.”, Marcus added, looking at Mike and then at y/n and I.

I turned to look at y/n, I didn’t know as much as they think I do. I wanted answers also and even personal questions to ask.

“Okay.”, she whispered looking up at Mike and then Marcus. “I say this one time and one time only with no disrespect added because I’ll be damned.”, she continued pointing at Mike and then at the log underneath him

  I watched as Mike sat down. I could tell she was sick of Mike shit because I was too. I watched as she moved her eyes to look off into the abyss within the woods, maybe trying to figure out what to say.

“My name is Y/N Smith. However, when I was undercover while working with the Cartel, I was known as Rose and was extremely close with everyone that did business within it. So I made sure that only the heads would know what I looked liked and that no one knew my real name. ”, she explained, looking at us. 

“You’re Rose…Rose Gonzalez? How did you keep your identity a secret for so long?”Mike asked, looking at her and then at me.

“Wait…you worked with my mom?”I asked, turning to look at her. At this point we were all searching for answers.  

“ I stayed hidden because I killed anyone who wasn't supposed to see me or would tell. So I guess you could say I have a lot of blood on my hands.”, she whispered, turning her hands around to look at her palms.

“I knew that you were undercover Mike because I had worked with you. We just had never met. Same with you, Armando.”, she answered, turning to look at me. I could see regret fill her eyes, what else was she holding back? “The operation that Mike was working on, blew up in my face at the wrong time. So I had to actually become a boss in order for my identity not to be revealed because they were killing their own people to figure out who was undercover.”

“I remember that happening…someone was talking to me on the phone while I did it.”, I replied, reminiscing about it. My mind started playing back to that night, I was on the phone with a woman and she was calling all of the shots and was paying me heavy money for it.

“So, that was you that night?”I asked, keeping my attention on her. I could tell she was becoming uncomfortable with talking about her past, maybe this is why she’s been all over the place.

“This is starting to make sense but…how does this correlate with you and McGrath and Howard? How did you know him?"Mike interrogated, scratching the back of his head.

“McGrath and I met when I was out with Armando’s mother. Although your mom, Armando, was way older than me, we became good friends due to the connections that I had within the Cartel. McGrath came up to me and introduced himself to me. At first I was afraid, thinking it could be a set up with how deep I had gotten to my role but after a while of seeing him, I became drawn towards him. That deep harsh voice that he has, kind of like yours Armando besides the accent, pulled me in.”, she explained, grabbing the rocks that were by her feet.

“So it was one of those falling in love bullshit.”, I scoffed, rubbing the back of my neck but blushing at the fact she mentioned my accent. I watched as she snapped her head to look at me really fast. I couldn’t help but to feel jealous inside but the pieces are connecting between her and McGrath.

“It wasn’t bullshit at the time. I was hooked, although I was young, very young. I was genuinely hooked.”

“I guess you can say she’s a"DILF ".”, Marcus laughed 

I wasn’t sure how to respond to his comment, I thought it was kind of disrespectful knowing what she’s been through. “So what happened for him to hate you.”, I asked, shifting my whole body towards her. I wanted to know every detail about their relationship, her past. I wanted her and I wanted to fill and complete her. Sexually and Spiritually.

“He proposed to me about a year and a half later. I was terrified because he never knew that I was undercover, and I didn’t want to get a random citizen involved. It was things within that nature that I had to think about…”

“Did you say yes?”Mike questioned moving away from Marcus to sit next to the log that was near y/n.

He was intrigued by her past, I could tell by the way he was leaning in towards her. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t too.

“I did, and I knew I was asking for a death sentence but I had no choice but to say yes.”, she replied, shaking her head. She didn't acknowledge anyone’s presence anymore, she was just talking and listening to the questions that were being asked.

“I was pregnant and I had told him, some may think he proposed to lock me down but I look at it as him genuinely loving me however, you never know with men…”

You’d know with me…

“Okay so this makes sense but still…with Howard death, and  McGrath hating you? You had to have done something.”Marcus interrogated standing up.

“I knew about you being an undercover Mike, I just never said anything because you would’ve been killed plus Howard told me so once your operation was a success with Armando’s mother being sent to prison, it became a death trap for everyone else who were still in hiding. Which is what had happened. I didn’t know that McGrath was a D.E.A Agent, I had no clue.”, she whispered.

At this point, I could tell that she was on the verge of tears. The jealousy that I once had in my body was now turning soft. I slightly moved my head to Marcus and Mike to see them looking at her with sympathy.

“I had called the heads and formed a meeting so that we could talk about Armando’s mom being sent to prison. At this point of time, I was passed being undercover, I was drawn in. I wanted her out so that’s when I called you, Armando, and formed a plan but while I was on the phone with you, the other Cartel members brought in McGrath, which left me so confused, which is why I had randomly hung up.”, she replied, getting up to pace back and forth.

“I thought…I thought maybe he followed me because from time to time I made it hard for him to see me ....so that he could be safe y’know.  I never knew that he was an undercover agent. He would talk to me about things that he would do and feed me fun facts that had honestly helped me with my operation, however it never got to me that he was being literal because he would always laugh. So when he and his team showed up, there was nothing that I could do. I couldn’t help because that would’ve gotten me killed so I sent them to one of the rooms for them to be dealt with.”, she cried, shaking her head back and forth.

I stood up, and grabbed her to embrace her with a hug. I wasn’t used to having sympathy for others but y/n was different and I didn’t care about the  stupid expression that was on Mike and Marcus faces. I just knew that she needed to be comforted and I was going to be the one to do that.

I lifted her chin so that she could look up at me. Her cheeks were wet from the tears that ran down it so I took off my orange prison shirt, exposing my entire upper body and wiped her face with it. I figured it would be the littlest things that counted.

“Are we…interrupting anything?”Marcus coughed, throwing his shoulders at Mike.

“Yeah…I’m wondering the same thing.”, Mike replied, looking at him.

I watched as Y/n grabbed my hand and stopped me from wiping her cheeks. Was she embarrassed that I was consoling her? 

“Thank you Armando but just stop. I don’t need sympathy, I just need you guys to listen, okay”, she sighed moving across the fireplace. I watched as she sat on the other side alone, so much for me trying to help.

“After I sent them into one of the rooms, I figured that they would be just beaten because I didn’t tell the others, who were allowed to be in the room with me, to kill them. But when I went to check to get information out of them, they were all dead except McGrath. Their heads were cut off and they kept McGrath alive to torture him.”, she continued, leaning her weight towards the back of the log.

“So that’s why he hates you, you chose yourself over love.”, I whispered, looking over at her. I saw as she looked over defeatedly. I wasn’t sure if that was a smart decision or a dumb one. She was young and alone, surrounded by Cartels, but that’s no excuse because  if that was me, I would’ve done something to save the person that I love. I guess we're two different people.

“He was so mad at me for my decision that it took me a while to get some information out of him, however, I eventually got it and allowed him to tell the Cartel about Mike’s operation and those who were involved so that they can let him go, which they did.”, she continued, shrugging her shoulders.

I could see that she was slowly starting to accept what had happened, which was good but I couldn’t help thinking about the decision that she made. Was it really worth it? I turned my attention to her stomach after realizing that she mentioned about her being pregnant. She must’ve been watching because she looked down also and touched her stomach.

“Yeah after he was free, and the Cartel started moving around. The word got out fast about how they were going to move and I knew that they were slowly growing suspicious about me so I went to my house off the coast to get my things to try to leave.”

“He was there wasn’t he.”, Marcus said looking at her.

“Yep, he was there and I didn’t know. I was on the phone with Howard to let him know where I was going and to tell my team to get me a new name ready with a fake background. He snuck up on me and shot me in the back twice.”, she replied standing up, while pulling her pants off her hips to reveal the two scars on her lower back. 

My heart sank, making me remember the promise that I told her earlier. I for sure was going to make sure that I keep it now.

“Yep, Howard heard it all and everything that McGrath was saying. McGrath took my phone and looked through all of my documents while i layed on the ground crying. I watched him leave at some point and I don’t know what happened after that, all I know is that I woke up in the hospital with heavy security and Howard. He was there the whole time for me while I mourned. Since then, I've been trying to figure out what to do, so that’s why Howard said what he said in the video.”

“And that being about McGrath?”Mike muttered, fidgeting his fingers. 

“Majority of it, yes. The rest is just personal, you know, starting a new peaceful life…getting married, having kids.”, she blushed looking at Marcus and then at Mike.

“She should be looking at me, I can give her that.”, I thought while watching her blush. Settling down has crossed my mind before, maybe I can do that with her. If she doesn’t continue to play hard to get. Decisions.

“Thanks for explaining everything to us, y/n. We appreciate that.”, Marcus smiled while nodding his head up and down.

“Yes…thank you and y/n, I’m sorry.”Mike apologized,  getting up and walking towards her. You watched as she got up and looked at him while he went up to her. Was she going to accept it? Or maybe make him get on his knees? Hell, I know I would for her.

“It’s okay, pull that shit again and you’re dead…”, she replied, looking at him as he threw his hand out for a handshake. I watched as he laughed and as she stared right into his eyes. She wasn’t kidding.

“I’m not joking, I will.”, she repeated this time, grabbing his hand and shaking it.

I could see Mike's face switch from laughing to serious within a second. I loved how serious of a person she is and the dominant personality follows after that. It made me want to be submissive, just for her and to make the thing between my legs cry.

I watched as she let go of Mike’s hand and started walking away.

“Where are you going?”I asked, standing up alarmingly. She said nothing, until she went and sat in front of a tree then leaned her head against it. I just watched, looking out into the thin air to be sure that no one was around her.

“What?”, she laughed, folding her arms while adjusting herself against the tree. She was tired and we were out in the woods with chilling temperatures so I knew it would be hard for her to get comfortable.

“Armando can we—”, before Mike could finish his sentence I got up and walked over to y/n. I couldn’t help it, I felt drawn towards her. The need to protect her and to make sure she was comfortable and safe. 

“What do you want Armando, I’m done talking.”, she sighed, removing her head from against the tree. I could tell that she was sleepy and that she was getting annoyed with the fact that I kept messing with her. Her eyebrows began to droop inward and she was looking up at me with her low eyes while her head was leaned all the way back. Perfect position but the wrong time.

“Don’t act like you’re annoyed with me, baby.”, I flirted squatting down to her level to be eye to eye with her. I watched as she covered her mouth while she smiled and then quickly frowned.

“No seriously, what is it?”

“Here, put this on.”, I demanded, handing her my shirt.

“What about you?”, she asked, pointing to my exposed body. Honestly, I was a little cold but I'd rather her wear it than me.

“I’m going to sleep next to the fire but first I'm going to talk to Mike unless you want me to keep you warm.”, I replied putting my shirt over her head, allowing her to put her arms through the sleeves.

“Goodnight, Armando…”, she smirked, leaning up to kiss me on my forehead and then laying back against the tree. The way she says my name, made me shy and bubbly on the inside. 

“Get a fucking room!”Mike yelled, antagonizing y/n and I while Marcus chuckled.

“Shut the hell up Mike!!!”, y/n and I yelled in unison which led to us laughing.

It felt good to hear laughter coming out of everyone’s mouths, especially knowing that in the next couple of hours. We will have to find help and eventually  kill McGrath. I playfully slapped y/n on her thigh and walked away. Mike called my name earlier so I knew that he was going to be up a little longer talking. I had been dreading this conversation with him, it’s my first time actually communicating and being around him.

I sat on the opposite side of the lit fire so I could watch y/n sleep. For the rest of the night, Mike, Marcus and I talked about Mike’s and I’s relationship and how we were going to help Howard and y/n. Truth be told, Howard wasn’t my priority anymore. Y/n was. I want her to live a life that she deserves, and I am going to make sure that she does, whether me or McGrath dies in the process.

[shima-draws]

GASP there’s a solar eclipse in my town tomorrow. HEE HEE HOO HOO

[my-love-is-sunlight]

I crave Sanji angst 😝

here, my humble offering

Human

Sanji x reader

angst/comfort, gn reader

In which you find Sanji chopping vegetables at 2 in the morning

Masterlist

A shiver ran down your spine making you shift in your sleep, hands looking for your lovers warmth only to be met with an empty side of the bed. Your heart stops and you jolt up to double check, you look out the open window, by the position of the moon it could not be pass 2 am

Where was Sanji?

Worry washes over the sleepiness making your body stand up, put on your slippers with the mission of finding that damn cook. He wasn’t on night watch, his breakfast prep didn’t started in a couple of hours, the sun was still wrapped under the covers of the night sky and the tie calm lulling the strawhats to sleep soundly

Walking down the hallway you peek trough every door and window of The Sunny, being met with dark empty rooms or your crew mates fast asleep, snoring the night away. Suddenly you hear the familiar sound of chopping coming from the kitchen, the light shining warm illuminating your way trough, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and growing worry

It had come up to your attention that Sanji was used to have anxious fits and sleepless nights were he’d found his mind steering him awake, memories of his past turning into nightmares that haunted him. Regardless of how torturous some nights would feel, shoulders heavy, eye bags hanging, head spinning, Sanji would rarely talk about this fits, saying “Don’t worry that pretty head of yours with me, my love” brushing the matter off only for you to end up holding him tight as he poured his heart out with salty tears on your shoulders

You wished he hadn’t allowed it to get so bad tonight

Carefully you cracked the door of the kitchen open, Sanji never leaving his position, eyes fixed on the vegetables being chopped not noticing your form by the frame of the door

He looked tired

A sigh leaves your mouth as your heart clenches in pain, wondering why weren’t you blessed with a devil fruit or a power form above that could take that pain of his away; all you could offer him right now, was your presence and an ear to listen

“Sanji?” You break him away from his task, his eyes opened wide as they scanned you now approaching the counter, sitting in front of him

Sanji’s body language shifted the instant you entered his field of vision, but you know him well enough to know this is just a facade, noticing the redness and puffiness around his eyes, his stare shattered while he paints a sweet smile over it

“My love, hope I didn’t wake you up” and just like that he’s back to chopping the broccoli, hands moving fast, with an earned precision. You stay quiet, a small fiber of your being hoping he’ll drop this act and just come forward with what’s plaguing his mind, but even if he doesn’t its ok, you’ll be here regardless

“It’s 2 am Sanji, what are you doing?” his movements slow down, his eyes still zeroed on the vegetable

“Thought i’d get started on the food prep early”

“Sanji…” your tone becomes a little heavier, you hated speaking this way specially to him, but you knew if you didn’t press at least a little, the cook would stay the whole night up chopping and preparing food until he’d passed out on the stove

It was rare to see Sanji’s hands tremble, but when he felt your body get up from your seat and walk towards him, it was impossible for them to not to. His breath hitches as the deafening sound of your step getting closer and closer froze him, tears already threatening to spill out of his tired eyes

One of your hands settled on top of his, while the other discarded the knife, instinctively you pulled him closer embracing him in a tight reassuring hug that had him breaking down on you almost at the touch. His hands held you back as he sobbed in the crook of your neck, soothing circles going up and down his back as you whispered

“It’s ok, let it out”, “I’m here”, “Everything’s gonna be fine”

Your sweet voice fell on his ears making him melt even more, sobbing turning into intense crying that had you now sitting on the kitchen floor, his tired legs giving up on him

“I’m sorry” he says, voice broken in barely a whisper that breaks your heart, but you pull yourself together, for him

“Don’t say that, there’s nothing wrong with being vulnerable, I’m always here for you” is in these moments Sanji knows there most be a heaven, a guardian angel that send you his way, to hold him and protect him, to love him unconditionally and be so gentle, a word he had never really understood the extent of the real meaning until you had held him close to your heart

A silence falls like a warm blanket on top of you, his crying ceasing, breath calming as his eyes finally meet yours. There’s a certain embarrassment behind Sanji’s eyes that you still cannot concoct into the correct words to express how it shatters you, all you can say is

“Don’t be ashamed to be human, Sanji” your gaze never wavers from his, speaking every word loud and clear making sure he gets it, and he does

He feels undeserving of such love and care, anyone that has known the both of you could see it in his everyday devotion to you, breaking himself apart for you to feast, being on your call and foot every hour and moment of his days, simply noticing the way he looks at you. Pure adoration he offers you, but now as you walk back to your dorm beside him at almost 3 in the morning, tucking him in your bed his head in your chest as you kiss him good night, he knows adoration is not enough of a word

He loves you

[crappymixtape]

tangled • part one

❝ all you’ve known your entire life is in the inside of your tower – the brick walls covered in your murals skating around you in a semi-perfect circle, the view from the very top one that would take anyone’s breath away, but how could it be beautiful when you could never leave? that is, until an unexpected someone happens upon your hidden tower and offers you a chance to escape | (  3.2k, tangled AU • fluff, angst, strangers to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

S E T M E F R E E, O H I P R A Y 🎶 cowboy take me away, fireswimmer

You were up with the birds, awake as fingers of sunlight slipped through your window and fanned out over the quilt you’d stitched together during the winter months. Spring was coming to an end and the days were growing warmer, enough to probably not need your quilt any longer, and when you stepped out of bed onto the cobblestone floor you felt a buzz of inspiration zip through you.

Maybe it was the way the sun crept through your window or maybe it was the sound of the waterfall rushing just outside the tower, but you wanted so badly to run your fingers through the grass. Hear the way the breeze blew through the trees. Dip your toes in the water and look at the details of a petal up close and–

“Rapunzel! Let down your hair!”

Mother’s voice drifted up from the bottom of the tower and you felt your heart hammer in your chest. You’d never asked her to leave the tower before, hadn’t asked her for much honestly, but with your birthday coming up maybe she would make an exception.

Every year, on the eve of your birthday, lights would illuminate the sky. Dancing and swirling among the stars and drifting beneath the moon. Beautiful and sparkling and it happened every single year. Why? You were dying to find out. They weren’t far from the tower, surely she would entertain your request. After all, it was your birthday.

“Rapunzel! I’m not getting any younger down here!”

“Coming, Mother!” you called back and tossed your long, shiny locks up over the hook spun into the roof of the tower. They cascaded down the wall and landed in a spun pile at her feet.

Pulling and pulling and pulling, Mother ascended up to the window inch by inch until she stepped up onto the ledge and into your circular room, “Good morning, dear.”

“Morning, Mother.”

“It’s time to brush your hair dear. I saw on the way up, you’ve got twigs tangled up in the ends. Hardly a way to treat such beautiful locks, my goodness. What do you do all day? Tsk. Just another reason for me to keep you here, you can’t even manage to properly care for yourself.”

A pang of shame hit you square in the chest and you wrapped your arms around your torso, making yourself smaller. Unseen. Unheard.

“Sit,” Mother said pulling up a stool and you did as you were told, sitting on the small surface as she took the chair behind you, brush in hand. “Now sing me our song. You know how much I love it,” she demanded, not asked, and you did as you always did…

Flower, gleam and glow, Let your power shine, Make the clock reverse, Bring back what once was mine.

Heal what has been hurt, Change the fates' design, Save what has been lost, Bring back what once was mine. What once was mine.

“That’s my girl,” Mother appraised, running the brush through the ends of your hair and pulling too hard at the end, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“Mother…” you started, hesitant, reluctant. Should you ask? She seemed in as good a mood as ever.

“What is it?” she snapped, short. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, but something in you pushed. Please, please ask. If you don’t ask we won’t ever know. And you had to know.

“I was thinking–”

“Never a good thing,” Mother teased meanly and you bit your bottom lip between your teeth. Nerves swelling in your chest.

“I was just thinking...tomorrow is my birthday and well–well, there’s something I was hoping we might be able to do.”

Mother hummed in her throat, a sharp thing that held irritation, like you were a pest she couldn’t rid herself of. “And? Rapunzel come now, speak up!”

“And–and I was wondering if you might take me to see the lights at the castle. They’re there every year on my birthday! They can’t be stars…I’ve charted them all and I just…I want to see what they are–”

“The lights?” Mother started to laugh. “The lights? Rapunzel you must be joking.”

“No, I’m not…I’m not joking, Mother I really do want–”

“Truly, how could you think I would just take you–”

“Mother, it’s what I really want! I just want to see the lights!” you shouted, but as soon as the words left your lips you clamped your hands over your mouth. Afraid of what you’d just done.

Mother narrowed her eyes at you, lips firmed into a twisted line, angry and her patience evaporated as she took a step toward you and you shrank again.

“You will never raise your voice at me like that again, is that clear?”

“Yes, Mother.”

Her voice notched up in volume as she stepped closer to you.

“And I don’t ever want to hear about those lights again, is that clear!”

She was closer still, breath heated and harsh against your cheek.

“Yes, Mother.”

Towering over you, Mother took you by the wrist and roughly pulled you up to her face so that you were inches away, the heat of her words spilling and burning and wicked, “And you will absolutely NEVER, EVER be leaving this tower! Is that clear??”

When you spoke for the final time your voice cracked, tears streaming down your cheeks, chest burning with embarrassment and shame and regret. “Yes, Mother.”

Letting go of your wrist, Mother sighed and sank back into her chair, eyes closed and fingers pinching her the bridge of her nose.

“Ugh, now I’m the bad guy.”

You sniffed, wiping your eyes hastily with the backs of your hands, trying and scrambling to regain your composure. Afraid to push her even the tiniest bit further. You wished you’d never asked, wished you kept your thoughts to yourself. The lights, your birthday, all of it. Wished you could take it all back.

Clearing your throat you sat back on your stool, curled into yourself as you peered up at Mother sitting her in chair. Impatient. Bothered. Exasperated.

“Mother…” you started tentatively, “I know what I want for my birthday now.”

“And what’s that?” she sighed.

“New paint? The kind made from the shells you once brought me.”

She fixed you with a look, the way you might regard a dog begging for scraps, “Well, now that is a long journey, Rapunzel.”

“Please? I promise not to ask about the lights again,” pressing your hands together you tried to look sorry, thankful, grateful, please.

Mother sighed again, but you held onto hope. “Oh, alright,” she conceded, standing from her chair to gather her things. Surely you couldn't do much damage over a few days. “I’ll be back in three days time. Are you sure you’ll be able to manage without me?” she asked.

You gave her a small smile, “Yes, mother. I’ll be fine.”

“You know I love you,” your mother said, a tight smile pulling at her lips.

“Yes, mother. I love you too,” you murmured.

“I’ll see you a bit, my flower!”

And with that you watched as she descended the tower, your hair in her hands sliding down, down, down to the grass below and off into the open, free, world you wanted so badly to explore, only to stand at your window while Mother disappeared into the vines draped at the edge of the meadow and into…well, unlike you, where ever she wished to go.

I SAID I WANNA TOUCH THE EARTH, I WANNA BREAK IT IN MY HANDS, I WANNA GROW SOMETHING WILD AND UNRULY.

Unbeknownst to you, the path to your freedom lay in the hands of a man just on the other side of the very vines Mother had just stepped through. Well…technically he was a man, but really more boy in the way he held himself. And carried conversation. And continually found himself in trouble because of his inflated ego, but a man nonetheless, holding your freedom.

Flynn Rider, a rogue, a thief, a ruffian. Just over six feet tall with sweeps of dark brown hair, skin like it held all of summer and the sun beneath it, eyes like burnt sugar and dotted in freckles and apparently much faster than he looked.

“RIDER!”

“Sorry, boys, gotta go!”

Flynn crashed through the line of shrubs he’d just hurled himself into and fell out the other side, scrambling to find his footing. He was probably going to regret the decision he’d just made, but that would be a problem for future Flynn Rider.

Patting the satchel at his side he peeked into make sure the contents were still intact and at the sound of thundering hooves picked his pace back up, sprinting through the woods.

It was a beautiful day, not a cloud in sight, rays of sun shining through canopy and dappling the forest floor with warm sunlight. It would have been even more beautiful if Flynn wasn’t being chased by the King’s guard, but he supposed it was the only option when you’d stolen the crown of the missing princess.

Chest heaving with the effort, he pushed his legs to go faster. Sprinting over fallen logs and thick brambles, wincing but not stopping as they pulled and slashed at the thin fabric of his tunic. He had to find cover before he ran out of breath or else he’d face the gallows.

Again.

It wasn’t that he was a bad guy. He wasn’t murderous or wanted for treason or anything. In fact, he wanted to be done with this life on the run and so he hoped this might be his ticket out. Hawk the lost princess’ tiara and hop a boat to somewhere far, far away.

His lungs started to burn as he sucked in air, sidestepping a particularly nasty blackberry bush and earning a scratch across his cheek. “Damn,” he hissed, wincing at the pinch of pain. He could hear the guards closing in behind him, the captain giving orders to his men to split up and Flynn knew his time grew short.

An arrow grazed past his ear as his slammed into a tree, the tip sinking into the bark just inches from his hands.

Too close.

“A promotion to which ever of you idiots catches, Rider!” the captain shouted and it pushed Flynn into another sprint.

Step over step over step, out of the thick stand of trees and into a wide field of wheat. The shhh shhh shhh of the grass against his trousers hissing as he stumbled once on a dirt clod and again on a molehill until the third time he wasn’t so lucky.

The toe of his boot caught on a rock dug into the dirt, sending him flying forward and over the edge of an embankment. Tumbling head over heels down, down, down and hitting the bottom with a heavy THUD!

“Sir! We’ve lost him!”

“What d’you mean you’ve lost him??”

“I–I’m not sure, sir. We–we’ve lost visual.”

“Bloody useless–if you lot can’t find him, then I’ll do it myself!!”

Groaning, Flynn pushed himself up from where he’d landed and blinked away the knock to the head he’d just earned for running through a damn field. Voices carried down the embankment and he could hear the King’s guard scuttling about back up the hill – they didn’t know where he was.

Scrambling back up onto his feet, Flynn quickly checked to make sure the tiara was still in place before frantically looking for an out. He had a moment’s cover while they tried to find him back up at the top, but surely they’d see the bent wheat stalks at some point. The bottom of the gully was more of the same, thick brush and brambles and trees and…vines? All drooping down just above the ground at the same angle and blowing just ever so in the breeze.

Brows knitted together he pushed a hand to them and stumbled forward a bit when his hand fell through them, not solid. So he pushed further still, watching as his arm disappeared further and further until he was completely concealed.

“Sir! We found something!”

Sucking in a gasp, Flynn pressed himself against the rock of the tunnel he’d just discovered and held his breath. The King’s guard tramped down the hill and trotted right past his hiding spot, their shadows dancing across the vines as they concealed him out of sight.

“He’s here somewhere, keep looking!”

The sound of hooves slowly disappeared and when quiet flooded back in, Flynn could hear the sound of a…river? A waterfall? Birds and a soft breeze across his skin…taking a few steps toward the bright light at the other end of the tunnel Flynn shielded his eyes in the crook of his arm and walked out into the most beautiful place he’d ever seen.

A waterfall cascaded down a cliff at the far edge of the little valley he’d wandered into, crashing into the rocks below and fanning out into a river that wound its way through the ground and past his feet. All manner of birds chirped and sang as they flew through the cloudless sky, landing peacefully in the trees. And there, just in the very center, a tower made of brick and cobblestones with a thatched roof, a chimney and windows all around but…no way up?

He knew he couldn’t stay idle, even if he was out of sight for now, surely the King’s guard would find him. Taking one quick loop around the tower, there was still no door in sight, so snatching the pair of daggers from the belt at his waist he stabbed one between the bricks high above his head and pulled to test his weight. When it held he found his footing and drove the second dagger in and arm over arm began to climb up to the largest window.

His biceps were burning, his shoulders on fire. There were a few times Flynn even thought he would surely fall to his death, but slowly he made it up, up, up and when he finally fell through the window gasping for breath, he prayed to whatever gods there may be that he might find a bed at the top of the bloody tower. Stealing a crown, outsmarting two idiot thugs and then running from the King’s guard was no easy feat and he could feel exhaustion in his very bones.

Heaving himself up off the cobblestone floor he loosed a heavy sigh of relief and pushed his hair from his eyes.

“Gods, finally. Alone at last.”

And then with a very loud CLANG! everything went black.

IN THE COMFORT OF YOUR ARMS, ON A PILLOW OF BLUE BONNETS, IN A BLANKET MADE OF STARS, OH, IT SOUNDS GOOD TO ME.

There was a man.

In your tower.

In your room.

AT YOUR FEET.

How he’d made it all the way to the top of the tower without the aide of your hair was beyond you, but as you peeked out at him from behind your mannequin you couldn’t help the tiny pang of guilt in your chest. Maybe you didn’t have to hit him with your frying pan, but it was too late for that now.

You’d never seen one before, only knew what Mother told you: dark, beady eyes and sharp fangs, gnarled hands to snatch you with and kidnap you away into the night.

Stepping out from your hiding place you took a tiny step forward, the smallest step, and poked him with the handle of your pan.

“HEY!” you shouted, but he didn’t move. “Oh, gods…” Did you kill him?

Another few steps and your bare toes nearly brushed his arm. Slowly extending the pan again you turned his head with the handle and nudged his lip, but in place of scary fangs were teeth. Just like yours. Bending down carefully you lifted a hand to his face and hesitated, waiting for something to happen, but his steady breaths continued to fall and his eyes remained shut.

A cut chased across his cheek, the tiniest streak of blood along with it, and your brow furrowed with worry. Did it hurt?

You ghosted your hand over his, just as normal as ever though a bit rough and maybe a little dirty, but wide and warm. Not gnarled. Not scary. You wondered at what it would feel like to hold it, yours so small and his so big.

Slowly, gently, your fingers trailed through the sweep of brown hair covering his face and brushed it aside to reveal mole dotted skin, warm and golden like summer and he’s beautiful. The most wonderful thing you’ve ever laid eyes on and you want to see more and–

“Unghh…”

CLANG!

You instantly regretted hitting him again, but what were you supposed to do? He opened his eyes and began to stir and what if he’d jumped up to grab you?

A groan escapes your lips and you rough your hands over your face, you still have a man in your tower. What to do, what to do. As you took stock of your modest surroundings there wasn't much to work with. Your mannequin, a small stove, things for baking and sewing and painting, your bed, your closet–

Your closet!

Blowing a puff of air between your lips, you bent down and grabbed hold of his feet and pulled a little. When he didn't stir you pulled again. A little more, a little further, a little further and further and straining, struggling almost dropping him, you shoved him into the wardrobe and slammed the doors shut, propping the handles closed with a chair.

“Oh! Oh! I did it!” you squealed, sweat clinging to your brow, giving a little jump of excitement. “I did it!! I’ve got a person in my closet. I’ve got a person in my closet…I’ve got a person in my closet! Mother thinks I’m too weak to handle myself, huh? Well, we’ll just see about that!”

And as you took a victory lap around the room your eyes caught something on the floor. A bag you hadn’t seen before and as it fell open, the contents inside flickered in the light as it came through the cracks in the roof.

Picking up the satchel you pulled back the flap and found something even more beautiful than the man you’d just shoved into your closet.

Gold. Purples and pinks and turquoises and glittering in the sunlight and as you carefully picked it up, you were surprised at how heavy it was. Eyes narrowing, you hold it closer to look at the intricate way the gold pieces twist around the jewels and gems, securing them in place and creating little flowers along the sides.

A smile flickers at the corners of your lips. It looks just like the pictures from your fairytale books. The kind of thing only a princess would wear. Laughing softly you step in front of your mirror and hesitantly hold it up over your head. Just for a moment. Just to see what it would look like…

Slowly, softly you lowered it and let it settle upon your head and a flash of light strikes you. A memory, bright and sharp and vivid. A spinning sun hanging overhead. The most lovely laughter, like music, like a song. A warm embrace. A lullaby.

BANG!

Sounds from the closet and you nearly fling the crown to the ground. How foolish of you to let you guard down. How could you forget? You could hear Mother scolding you, telling you how stupid you were, how you could have been kidnapped or killed.

Heart hammering against your ribs your eyes settle back on the closet as it bangs again.

Your guest was awake.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[hellishjoel]

ride

7.2k // pairing:dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

summary: Joel whisks you away to Houston for the weekend under the guise of a work trip. You keep a secret from him to try and keep your fling undetected from your parents. warnings: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, dbf/neighbor!joel, smut, swearing, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel in his 40s), pet names, fingering, oral (f! receiving), unprotected p in v (shower sex hehe), a little overstim if you squint

A/N: sorry not sorry this chapter took a month+, but I hope you like it! A little drammaaaa. and a reminder, they still have all day saturday and sunday together ;)

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You gulp. “Joel-”, it’s almost in a warning tone. “I don’t- fuck, it feels-”  “Uh-huh,” Joel murmurs against your core, nodding gently, grazing his nose against your clit in the process before his warm mouth tightens around your clit. And he suckles.  You cry out, walls clenching around his fingers as he milks an orgasm from you. You damn near crumble, but he tightens the hold on your hip to keep you afloat.  “There ya go, princess, come on my fingers,”

June 23rd 7:48 P.M. 

I’ve had some time to think about Joel, and how much I like to think about him, and how things aren’t an accident. 

Thinking about how unlikely it is that we sparked. 

How Joel could have turned left, and I could have turned right. But we didn’t. 

Instead of running away, I said yes, and so did he. 

The impossibility of us seems so incredible, almost unbelievable. 

I love that so many things had to happen for us to be where we are right now. 

I saw the sun melt his eyes into amber, and he liked the way I smiled in the moonlight. 

This feeling was radical, unnerving, scary. 

I didn’t know why it was called falling or crashing into love. Perhaps I do now. 

“You could sit there and read all day, huh?” Joel interrupts your thoughts as he starts to guide his truck off the freeway, passing a large aluminum Welcome to Houston! sign lit up by the truck’s headlights. 

Butterflies flutter in your stomach, cheeks squished from smiling as his hand settles on your upper thigh, thumb drawing lazy circles on your sweet skin.  

“I’m not reading anymore. Got too dark.” He’s referring to the novel you brought for the trip from your to-be-read pile that you started when you first got on the road. 

The drive from Austin to Houston was two-and-a-half hours long, so you decided to saddle the passenger seat with different activities and snacks to keep yourself busy and out of Joel’s hair, much to his behest. He said he enjoyed letting you ramble on about whatever you were thinking about; said it was like listening to a podcast.  

“But I am writing.” You hum quietly, penning in your last thought before it gets lost in the black of night. 

“What’cha writin’, then?” Joel's curious eyes wander to the nest you had made for yourself in the passenger seat as he tilts his chin up to try and read beyond your journal cover. 

You snap it closed and slip the pen in somewhere between the pages. “Keep your eyes on the road, old man.” Your tone is teasing, making you grin even more as he grumbles in annoyance under his breath as the truck slowly approaches a stop light. 

Once off the freeway and down to the local roads, you roll the window down. You watch the moon start to rise in the sky, feeling goosebumps grow on your arms and exposed legs while the wind lazily flows through your hair. The gentle night breeze is welcome to air out Joel’s stuffy truck. 

You were supposed to be his navigator once he got off the freeway, but you were a bit preoccupied looking around yourself. 

You and Joel left Friday evening as soon as he was done with work, and now you were lightly coasting the streets of Houston as the sun finished setting. You could see the diverse architecture of downtown, the skyline of skyscrapers and high-rises were all crowded together. As you moved further into midtown, Joel drove past small businesses and parks. You let your hand float out the window, surfing the wind like a wave. 

“Hey, space cadet, if you’re not gonna give me the directions to the motel, the least you can do is toss me a french fry.” 

Your head cocks back to him, curiously smiling as you reach your hand aimlessly into the fast food bag, retrieving a fry and bringing it up to his lips. You settled on McDonald’s before you left Danbury, partially because Joel felt like being a little cheap, and you agreed they had the best, saltiest french fries. 

You feed it to him, and he teasingly sucks the salt off your fingers. 

“Gross, Joel.” 

He sneers as he watches you wipe your hands on your thighs to rid yourself of his saliva. “You like it.”

He’s not wrong. You force yourself to look back out the window again to hide the heat creeping up the back of your neck. 

Joel smirks and squeezes your thigh to bring you back to him. When you look over to the handsome man donning his usual green flannel, the wind furles your hair in messy, unkempt streaks. 

He hesitates for a moment, but now that you’re no longer preoccupied with reading or writing, he holds your hand. You feel him test the waters, settling for just lightly clasping it in your lap, but it’s not enough for him. His thick fingers and calloused hand meets the heart of your palm as his fingers weave with your own. He lets out a little sigh and settles himself there. 

You feel like teasing him. You’re afraid to hold my hand but not to fuck my throat in your woodshed with a party right outside? But then you remember how difficult it was to kiss him. It still felt like a slip-up, you had to admit. Especially if this was supposed to be just a casual relationship. It felt intimate and emotionally charged. But it was just kissing, right? And this was just holding hands. 

Your thoughts wrestle around your head a bit. Joel feels it. You’re not sure how he always seems to know what you’re thinking, but he does. His thumb strokes a gentle line up and down the muscle of your thumb, a silent way of saying stop thinking for once.  It’s appreciated, the sense of care and thoughtfulness he provided without even speaking a word. 

Ever since he took you to that bar, Past Lives, all you could think about was Joel. Joel on repeat. Joel taking you away from the distracted environment of the lakehouse. Joel showing you the map, saying there was more to the world than Texas. Joel kissing you. Joel touching you. Joel fucking you. Joel protecting you. Joel saving you. 

As much as you’ve had time to reflect on Joel, you’ve also reflected on your parents. They were hardly bad people, but they didn’t respect your adult choices. You came to tearfully realize that your relationship with them had slowly deteriorated since leaving for university. You grew independent, and that was especially hard for them. Something you had trouble understanding, something Joel didn’t understand either. 

You called Joel Thursday night before your trip under the guise of asking if you should pack any specifics, but the conversation ended up landing on his relationship and parenting with Sarah. You told him how you appreciated the way he let Sarah grow and experience things, that it was good for her. 

“She’s a tough girl, and I trust’er. Nothin’ much left to say.”

“So, what-” you stumble and scoff over the phone. “My parents don’t trust me? Or think I’m not tough enough to tackle the world?”

“S’not what I’m sayin’, darlin’. I don’t know what’s up with your folks. But you don’t need their approval, you’re an adult. All you need is t’… t’ trust yourself. Sounds fuckin’ cheesy, but it’s true.”

You pause, twisting a strand of hair around your finger as your eyebrows furrow, thinking over his words. “Y’think if I act a little more confident about it, they’ll start believing it too?”

Joel’s chuckle is a little crackle-ey on the line as he wanders around his house talking to you, going in and out of good reception. “Gotta start somewhere, buttercup. At the end of the day, it’s about your happiness, not theirs. Don’t gotta be such a people pleaser all the time.” 

Yes, I do, you think. 

“Thanks, Joel.”

“Sure thing, hon’.” 

Dusk on the outskirts of Houston. The houses become few and far between. There’s more green grass and flourished trees. Joel slowly pulls into a small driveway, a large blue neon-lit sign designated that you were at your motel for the weekend. The entire truck is highlighted in a pale blue from the illumination, you nearly have to squint. There were no more than two or three cars parked outside. It was a two-level motel, with an outside staircase to navigate the different floors. 

“The Blue Swallow Motel.” Your attention strays to Joel with furrowed brows. “Why here?” 

Joel shrugs and navigates himself into a parking spot with ease. “Don’t know. Like blue swallows.”

Curiosity sparks you. 

“You like blue swallows? You’ve seen one in person?” 

He shakes his head and says nothing for a moment, but it almost looks like he can’t help himself to dispel some information. “They’re native to Africa, only ever seen the North American variants  ‘round here.” He lets the engine grumble down once he pulls the key from the ignition, but you’re still awestruck in his passenger seat.  

“I’m sorry- Joel Miller Bird Enthusiast?” The eager tone in your voice gives away your excitement, and Joel seems to despise it when you get too excited about him. He has to close his eyes and hang his head, wishing he never said anything. 

“Oh, Joel Miller, don’t even try to deny it, I’ve seen those bird guides on your bookshelf, you’re a birder.” 

His neck swivels, eyes wide and defensive. “I am not a birder.”

You throw your head back in laughter, and eventually, he cracks a smile. “They’re interestin’, okay?”

You playfully pat his shoulder with reassurance, nodding in agreement. The two of you settle down from your fits of laughter and look over the exterior of the motel once more. 

“Y’said you wanted somethin’ quaint? Small?” 

Being with Joel and having no other distractions was your goal for this weekend. Since this trip was coming out of Joel’s pocket, you insisted you didn’t need some fancy hotel. You’ve traveled to Houston a handful of times before, and the last thing you wanted was for your view outside some high-rise hotel to be Danbury in the distance. 

You squeeze his hand once more and nod, stars lighting up behind your eyes. “It’s perfect. Thanks for finding something simple.”

Joel teeters on your appreciation but ultimately ends up shaking his head. “Could’ve gotten something a little nicer for ya, maybe closer to downtown-”

You stop him right there and bring his rough knuckles to your plush lips, adding a kiss to each one. “I said it’s perfect, so it’s perfect. I like it, it’s got charm, chutzpah even. Plus, looks like we’ll have the pool to ourselves.” You hum with a devious little smirk. You hop out of the truck and open the backdoor to grab your things. 

“Pool, you say?” He retorts, an eyebrow raised with narrow eyes on you. You lightly shrug as you grab your backpack. 

“Might have forgotten my swimsuit, though. Shame.”

You brush past Joel, who is scoffing lightly under his breath in disbelief, duffel bag brushing against his calves as he walks with you towards the motel office. You would be the death of this man. 

“Damn shame.”  He mutters, a smirk hanging low on his lips.

---

Room 135 was marked on the dark chestnut door, a small white plate with black numbering decked on. 

There wasn’t much to be said about the motel room itself. You tried to stifle a laugh when you and Joel both walked in to see two separate queen beds. The sheets were white, but the top cover was an extravagant red pattern that looked like it got lost in the 80s. A side table was resting against the wall towards the headboards with a beige telephone placed on top, resting over a few local restaurant menus. Two small lamps were attached to the wall above the beds, perfectly opposite of the television sat on top of a tall dresser. 

“Is this your idea of a romantic getaway?” You teased as you walked further inside over the beige carpet. “Two beds don’t exactly scream romantic.” You set your backpack down on the foot of the bed furthest from the door and closest to the bathroom around the corner. You assume this bed will just be used to hold both of your luggage, not a person. 

“No,” Joel said through a tight gruff as he strained to lift his bag of tools and luggage onto the edge of his own bed. “S’a work trip. Not a romantic getaway.” 

Your smile falters as you purse your lips and fiddle with your hands behind your back. 

“So, this really is a work trip?” You clarify, to which Joel looks at you a bit confused. 

“Course it is.” 

A light boil simmers through your chest. Maybe you will be sleeping in your own bed tonight. Joel could sense your flattened mood, and he quickly felt the need to sweep up the pieces of what he broke. He was bad with words, terrible really, but he tried to find the right ones for you. 

“I said that wrong. It’s a work trip but,” he trails off and falters as he saddles his hands on his hips for a moment and sighs, your doe eyes looking up to his own. “But I brought you here to spend some real time with ya. Didn’t wanna,” he shrugs and rolls his eyes. A classic Joel Miller sign that he wants to say something a little personally emotional. 

“What?” You probe him, a smile tickling your lips as you loop your hands to rest just above the ones on his hips. “You didn’t want to what, Joel?” You ask, setting your chin on his chest and looking up at him with a goofy grin. 

He sighs and rolls his eyes again, having a hard time looking at you. “I didn’t wanna go on this trip alone. Didn’t want to leave you at home when I could bring ya with.” 

Joel wasn’t a social man. In fact, if the world went to shit, you think he might really enjoy the solitude. But for him to admit that he would rather have you in his space than out of it, it’s quite endearing. 

Now you’re the one who's hiding a blush. You settle your cheek against his chest and sigh, soaking in his scent and his warmth. Joel’s hand comes to rest on the side of your head, gently stroking your hair away from your face as the two of you relax into a gentle hug. 

“Were you serious about that no bathin’ suit thing?” He asks after a moment of silence, causing you to roll your eyes and shove him a good distance away. 

“As serious as a heart attack.” You sneer as you round the bed to the bathroom, needing desperately to relieve yourself after the drive. Of all colors, it’s a beautiful mint green. Incredibly retro, you think as you use the toilet and stare at the shower absentmindedly. You roll your phone around in your hands once you finish washing them, a lump rising in your throat. 

Your mother’s words echoed in your ear. 

“If it gets serious, we want to meet this young man.”

There was no young man. The young man your mother referred to was really Joel. Panic was spreading through your body just at the thought of trying to fix this situation. They figured out you were seeing someone, they just didn’t quite know who. A few heavy breaths labor out of you, anxiety nestling in your chest. 

“You okay, buttercup? Been a minute.” Joel asks cautiously from the opposite side of the door, his knuckles offering a few polite knocks. 

Your chest surges. You didn’t want him to know you’d slipped up, half-told your parents the truth. You didn’t want him to end things out of fear of them finding out. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine, Joel. Just.. gimme a minute.” 

His feet don’t move on the other side of the door. He doesn’t want to leave you, feeling something slightly wrong. 

“Really, Joel, just- checking out the facilities.” God. 

He sighs before you hear him back off. “Alright. Lemme know f’you need anythin’.” 

You need to act, or else this feeling will eat you alive. Finally, with some accurate cell service, you text the first person you think of. Nathan. Remember that childhood crush of yours? You hadn’t seen him in years, and with how gorgeous he was growing up, there was a scary feeling that you might be texting a man who had a girlfriend. But he was your only hope to cover up the mess you had made. 

Growing up with Nathan and his parents being friends with your own always felt like a setup. Your mothers always cooed that you two just might end up marrying one another. At the time, you wished it was true, that all this exposure with him would lead to something romantic. But then you grew up, saw each other a little less over the summers, and grew apart. You still kept in contact via social media, but not often. You saw his life in pictures. One from a homecoming dance, a group picture of him and his friends, an action shot of him playing basketball, a high school graduation picture, and a similar one for college graduation. He was still alive somewhere out there, you just didn’t know him like you used to. 

Nathan was always kind, goofy, very golden retriever-like. Summers spent apart created a rift, but he was your childhood best friend and crush once upon a time. If he was willing to help you out, you owed him big time. So you shoot him a text and cross your fingers that this is still his number. The last thing logged in your messages was a silly conversation about cheetahs versus jaguars. You were team cheetahs, obviously. 

You felt a slight sense of relief once you came up with a plan. Talk to Nathan. See if he can act as your fake boyfriend for your parents. See if he doesn’t think you’re damn crazy for concealing your forty-something-year-old fuck buddy. 

You’re not really sure how to reignite the conversation, it’s been so damn long. You stare at the blank screen before you craft the brilliant message: 

Hi

A sigh leaves your parted, anxious lips, and you shove your phone away. 

---

You really did bring a bathing suit, much to Joel’s eagerness for the rumor to be true. You change into it with your back turned to him. You feel his eyes boring holes into you, sending a small dash of goosebumps up your arms. “I’m going for a dip before bed.” You say as you fiddle with the strings of your bikini top, struggling for a moment before you feel a warm presence step in behind you and fuss away with the strings himself. 

You hum softly as he fastens the strings, making a bow at your midback. Joel’s lips brush against your shoulder before they start sponging gentle kisses up your neck. The hair you tied up into a loose bun tickles his nose. 

“Such’a pretty girl.” He hums against your skin, a soft shiver trickling up your spine, lips parting in pleasure. “Too bad you’re not a very good girl.” Joel murmured as his hands slipped lower, past your hips, past the curve of your ass, until he was cupping both cheeks in his large palms. You gasp at the sensation, feeling his fingers squeeze at your flesh. A moan escapes your lips, you just can’t help it. You love it when Joel is handsy for you, the needy one. 

You swallow the lump in your throat and turn in his arms, eagerly kissing him as you cup his cheeks. He fights for control instantly, pulling you in at your hips so your back arches backward out of habit. You let your head dip back, eyes dipping closed as his lips trail down your neck, then between the valley of your breasts, all while his wiry beard creates scratches in his wake. 

“Do you have swim trunks?” You ask breathily, shoving him lightly by the top of the head further down your body. He drops to his knees and continues to trail kisses down your stomach. 

The question catches him off guard.

“Do I- what?” He asks breathily, looking up at you as he sponges kisses over your clothed center. 

“If you don’t have swim trunks,” you try to continue, “you can’t go swimming with me.” You say with a teasing smirk, stepping around Joel, who was awestruck kneeling on the ground, his hands still in place where he was cupping the backs of your thighs before he slaps them down on his own to show annoyance. 

He was probably thinking how you just up and disappeared when you were just standing in front of him a moment ago. Joel grumbles something, but you’re already out the door of the motel room. 

---

The pool is glowing in its blue hue, lit by dim lights around the perimeter and the silver moon in the sky. 

In a world so vast, you couldn’t help but feel a little lost in wanting to explore it. 

You take a breath in through your nose and test the water with a dip of your toe. A bit cold for your liking, but the warm Texas summers make your skin sticky and the air a bit stale. So you dive in. 

The cool water is a shock to your system at first, with goosebumps growing on your skin like wildfire. Your face breaks the seal of the water, emerging over the light ripples you created upon diving in, catching your breath. You take a few leisurely laps along the outskirts, feeling weightless, free. 

“Nice night.” Joel’s brassy voice breaks the gentle chorus of the summer cicadas. You hum as you carve your way through the water until you meet the pool’s edge. You rest your arms on the lip of the pool, bringing your breasts just above the surface of the water. 

“Get. In.” You say with an authoritative voice, despite your eager smile. 

He cocks his head a few degrees to the right, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “No. You look like a shivering chihuahua.” 

His joke elicits a giggle from you. 

“It’s only cold for the first few minutes. You’ll warm up.” You’re only half-lying, the pool was so fucking cold. 

Joel merely shakes his head. “You’re crazy, buttercup.” 

You hum as you push off the edge of the pool, moving towards the center, letting the water dance around you as your arms glide back and forth to keep you afloat. 

“Sounds like you need some motivation.” Your eyes lock on Joel’s as your fingers navigate to the back of your bikini strings, slowly pulling the tie loose, feeling the water aid you in floating the material off your upper half. The top strings around your neck are still tied, concealing the full reveal of your breasts. 

Joel’s once secure face fizzled, eyes straying and lips parting. A soft sigh escapes his lips as he kneels down, pointer finger curling towards him impatiently.  “Get over here.”

You shake your head disobediently. “Now.” His barking urgency makes you stifle a smirk. 

“Joel Miller afraid of a little cold water.” You shrug and move your fingers to the strings tied behind your neck, slowly tugging loose the threads. The material falls limp into the water, floating in front of you free from your body. 

Joel watches with impatience, the spill of your breasts making his cock twitch inside his swim trunks. The mesh material was forgiving, allowing him to swell at the sight of you. The cold water has your nipples taut, drawn into sweet peaks. You’re just out of his fucking reach, too far into the pool for him to grab you. 

He grunts quietly, jaw tight as you slowly swim closer to him. You shiver at his glance alone. 

“If you want me,” your voice drops innocently, doe eyes making their appearance to reel him in, “you’ll get in the pool, Mr. Miller.” 

Just out of his reach once more, you swim back to the center and push your thumbs into the band of your bikini bottoms, down your legs, leaving you bare in the pool for anyone to see from the highway or their own motel rooms. You must admit, Joel’s desperate gaze filled with want makes you squirm with excitement. Disobeying him lights that explosive even more. 

He offers you his hand, one final offer.  “Last chance, angel, get out of the pool.” 

“Why do you even have swim trunks on if you aren’t going to get in?” You ask, eyes gazing over the tangled hair he has scattered across his chest. 

“I was hoping these would appease you alone. Now come here,” he juts his hand out as an offering one last time. 

You roll your eyes and swim closer, your breasts lapping in the water as you take Joel’s hand. And tug with all your strength. 

His feet skid to try and hold him back, but he ultimately summersaults into the pool. You cover your mouth with your hand, unable to conceal your laughs as Joel emerges, sopping wet, cold, angry. 

“Y-You-” He chatters his teeth, eyes screwed tight on you as he pushes his hand back through his soaked curls and down his face, grazing his wiry beard. “You’re gonna get it.” 

Joel’s threat makes you squeal. You attempt to doggy paddle away, but the grip he catches on your arm is iron.  He pulls you back to him, and your body glides through the water, arms securing on his biceps once you’re locked in his hold. He’s threatening, but not as much so when you wrap your legs around his waist and feel his half-hard length. 

You raise your eyebrow at him, and he half-chuckles. 

“Such a fuckin’ piece of work you are.” He grunts out, hands searing the flesh of your hips as he skirts his hand down lower, cupping the globes of your ass. 

A hum tickles your throat as you lean in and press your lips to his jawline in a tempting kiss, smiling as Joel’s nose playfully nudges yours, leaning in for more. 

It’s stomach-twisting how you feel so comfortable with Joel, how you sink into his body, and how he warms your core. You kiss him until your lips feel bruised, and he grips your beautiful curves with eagerness. The two of you kiss like hungry teenagers, finally outside the watchful eyeline of your parents. Joel’s cock is hardening against your naked core.

He forces himself off of you, groaning lightly as he strays from your eyes. Cupping his jawline, you angle him back to you, resting your foreheads together. 

“Makin’ me get all riled up like a damn teenager.” His warm breath puffs across your face, his words make your bundle of nerves tingle. 

“I like that I’m the one causing it.” 

Joel chews at the inside of his cheek before giving you a tight little nod. “Me too, buttercup.”

---

Joel decides pool play is over. He gets out first, snags your bikini pieces that floated to the edge of the pool and starts walking leisurely back into the motel room. 

He only hears your cursing and belligerent rambling after he returns from turning on the shower, piping hot. 

“Can’t hear ya when you’re chatterin’ your teeth.” 

Joel returns to the bathroom and strips his swim trunks off, still half-hard. He tests the water with his hand, giving you an affirming nod it was okay to step in. 

You’re still angry and seething, having to streak your way back to the room naked and freezing your bare ass off. He looks at your crossed arms and playfully tuts. “You’re the one that thought t’drag me in there with ya, princess.” 

Joel follows you into the shower, the water splashing searing hot droplets. It only feels that hot because you’re readjusting from the pool’s temperature. You find yourself huddling into Joel’s warmth. 

He finds it endearing, the way your head settles on his chest, your ear to his heart, too chilled to let him go. He angles the showerhead downwards, letting it focus on your body first. He could wait. 

You gently release your crossed arms, letting them wrap low around his hips. He had a few extra pounds of flesh low on his tummy and on the sides of his waist. You gently pinch the area and smile. 

“Stop that.” He hisses, eyebrows knitted together. 

“But I like it. You’re my favorite person to hug.” 

The sentiment splashed warmth on the back of his neck. Joel has picked up a few extra pounds from town barbeques, and beers tossed back during football games. He used to not like it, the way he had to loosen his belt after a big meal, or having to purchase his new t-shirts in a size up. He didn’t think about it much, but naked with you in the shower, feeling you admire his ever-changing body, was a comfort. 

You look up after a few moments of silence, setting your chin on his chest and feeling his chest hair graze against your skin. 

Joel wants to warm you up, get you to relax under the showerhead. He presses a nimble kiss to your lips, pitter-pattering kisses along the extent of your body before he is down on his knees, angling your back to rest against the shower wall. 

Tired after your car ride and melting under the shower’s sprinkling water, you ache for a relief that will come from your head hitting a pillow. But Joel had other things in mind, things that would make you forget you were tired in an instant. 

Now under his watchful eye, lips and wiry beard scratching at your soft skin, you lightly part your legs for his entrance. God, please don’t let me slip and embarrass myself right now. Let me have this one good thing, this man’s tongue against my pussy would make me a God-willing woman. 

Joel can feel your exhausted body, begging to find a bed. But he had you where he wanted you, and his mouth was watering to taste your sweet musky arousal. His hands settle themselves on the backs of your thighs, supporting your weight as his head leans into your warmth. 

He brings two fingers forward, parting your center, licking a slow draw up your core. His tongue flicks off your clit, your bundle of nerves twitches. Something flips in his stomach, and his cock grows heavy against his thigh. 

You taste sweet and serene, something he’s grown an appetite for. With several days apart awaiting your weekend trip away, he often found himself at night, spilling into his hand thinking about your young, beautiful pussy flushed against his mouth. He takes this opportunity to relish in you moaning his name, without any curious ears. 

His tongue sinks lower, swirling around your tense entrance. The swell of his tongue gushes more arousal from you, and he gets a proper taste that isn’t mixed with water from the shower. 

Joel’s grip on your thigh tightens, and he laps at your clit like a famished man. 

The constant flicks have you gasping for air in the all-too-warm shower. Your fingers weave into his soaking wet curls, still finding a grip as your thigh twitches against his hand. 

Joel’s two fingers parting your center gently massage at your entrance, wiggling in gently as he suckles on your clit, and you mewl weakly. 

His tongue and teeth lightly graze your sensitivity, feeling stars clouding your vision as his fingers set a gentle pace. 

“Ooh,” you sigh weakly, feeling his fingers hit the perfect spot, one that makes you shake. 

Joel knows that sound, knows the feeling. He looks up, admires the way your pretty lips are parted in bliss. The hand on your thigh is brought to your stomach, gently stroking over the flesh. 

You watch him a little curiously, a little fucked. His mouth returns to your clit, but his hand still falters on your lower abdomen. You whimper as he adds a little pressure, and quickens his fingers. It’s jaw-dropping, the friction and pressure, piling on top of each other.

You gulp. “Joel-”, it’s almost in a warning tone. “I don’t- fuck, it feels-” 

“Uh-huh,” Joel murmurs against your core, nodding gently, grazing his nose against your clit in the process before his warm mouth tightens around your clit. And he suckles. 

You cry out, walls clenching around his fingers as he milks an orgasm from you. You damn near crumble, but he tightens the hold on your hip to keep you afloat. 

“There ya go, princess, come on my fingers,” he grunts, jaw tight, and teeth clenched as he watches your cum-arousal mixture glide down his fingers in a sticky mess. He slowly stands, watching you pant for air, as he sucks his digits clean with an evil smirk. 

The temperature in here is too much, heat consumes your body as you weakly grip his biceps. 

“God damn, Mr. Miller.” You say breathlessly. You take him in a quick kiss, moaning weakly into his mouth at your taste. His tongue tangles with you, and he keeps his fingers on your core. His first two fingers start to slowly circle your clit again, but it’s entirely too soon. 

You whimper weakly into his mouth, your clit aching and still recovering from your oral orgasm. 

“Mmm- can’t do it, Joel.” 

Joel snarls as he swiftly turns you around, his foot hitting the insides of both of your ankles to spread your legs. Your face is plastered against the shower wall, watching him out of the corner of your eye with your jaw dropped. 

“Be good for me, baby girl, show how thankful you are.” 

You whine at his raspy voice, feeling its timbre bounce against the walls. 

“Please,” you beg in a whisper, inching your feet farther apart for him to take you in the shower. 

Joel strokes his cock, seething through his teeth at the desperate relief he’s feeling. His swollen tip vies for your attention. He lines himself up, his other hand on your hip as he notches himself inside. 

You visibly flinch away, Joel hushing you softly as he tries again. 

“Gotta relax for me, pretty girl.”

You sigh weakly and let yourself melt with the warm water, fluttering your eyes closed as you gently jut your hips back into this, needing to be filled. 

Joel tries again after lining his tip up and down your slit and gathering your arousal. He notches inside of you once more, causing your eyelashes to flutter. He slowly presses on. 

The drinks must have really loosened you up since the last time the two of you fooled around in his truck. He wasn’t so hard to take then, but now he feels thicker, rounder. You could feel the thick vein on the underside of his cock as he ruts his hips into your ass. 

Finally, you will yourself to breathe, moaning his name in desperation. 

Joel’s trying to contract his lungs, but you’re gripping onto him so tight, the heat of the shower going to his head. 

You hum and purposely grip your walls around him, squeezing for his last breath. 

Joel snarls and smacks your ass from below, watching the fatty flesh jiggle. It stings, but you like it, thinking about his large handprint marking you red. He winds his hips back up and presses in, groaning lowly as he fills you to the brim. 

He sets a decent pace, one that robs you of what air you have left in your lungs. Your entire body feels sensitive, your cheek growing sore from being fucked against the shower wall. But it feels entirely too good, a certain itch that only Joel Miller can scratch. 

Every thrust he makes, you moan his name like a broken record. “Joel, Joel, Joel,” you moan and grunt it so much, that it starts to sound like it’s not a real word anymore. 

You reach back an arm blindly, gripping his bicep and stitching your nails into his skin. 

Joel grunts out weakly, the burning sensation you caused on his arm making him go wild. He reaches for both of your wrists and plants them at the base of your back, forcing your face to be your only weight to keep you up against the shower. 

But it unlocks a new angle, one that has you crying out curses and his heavenly name. 

“Fuck me, Joel, fuck- fuck your favorite little pussy,” you mewl out, feeling his cock twitch inside you. 

“God dammit, fuck me good like that, like that,” your eyes clench close, panting heavily. “Right there, daddy, please, Mr. Miller, touch my clit, please,” you beg, the pet name rolling off your tongue. 

It makes him snarl. He sets a hellish pace. His chest puffs up, his broad biceps locking around you as his fingers stroke over your pussy. 

He loves the way you wind him up. Because you are his favorite young pussy, one he’s made his own, railing you so good that you forget about anyone else that may have had you before. 

All you know is Joel Miller. 

His thighs and lower tummy smack your ass cheeks, a distinct slapping sound filling the shower and pinging off the walls right back into your ears. 

Stars flutter behind your eyes, you feel light-headed. The water splashes warm across your back, allowing Joel even more slip. 

The harder he fucks you, the closer he moves in. Now he has his entire torso flushed against your back, flicking his hips up into you with precision. 

Suddenly he’s grabbing your leg by the underside of your knee, hiking it up, and planting it against the shower wall as he exposes a whole new sensation. 

You can’t last any longer. His fingers circle dangerously around your clit, and now he’s pounding you into the wall, forcing friction against his glorious thrusts. You whimper loudly as his tip kisses your cervix repeatedly, feeling your walls clench around him as you come. 

It’s jaw-dropping, heart-surging, mind-fucking how good he feels coming inside of you. It’s warm, warmer than the water still raining over you. It’s comforting the way his seed spreads throughout your core, his grunts filling the shower as he drops his last load inside of you. 

And goddamn, he loves how you milk him dry. 

You weakly slide down the wall, tiredly dropping your leg once he pulls out. 

“No ya’don’t.” Joel quickly says, snagging a strong arm around your waist and hauling you up. You whimper as he peels your face off the wall, blinking rapidly as he spins you to face him. “C’mere.” Joel embraces you, and you lean weakly into his front like a bear hug. 

“Water,” you whisper against his pec. He turns the shower temperature down, a more comforting heat surrounding you now. 

“You’re alright.” He assures. 

After time to recuperate, Joel reaches for the shampoo bottle, squirting a small amount into his palm and lathering it between his hands. You feel a little better standing, but you still stay wrapped up in his arms, in his hug. 

He massages the shampoo into your locks, gently massaging it against your scalp, before he gently washes the bubbles out. He gathers conditioner next, letting it soak into your ends.

You hide your smile against his chest, knowing that he probably had to learn this type of stuff for Sarah. Hair care, skin care, tampons and pads, all the sort of stuff single dads fear. You wonder whatever could have been in Sarah’s mother’s mind to leave a guy like Joel Miller. Sure, he wasn’t perfect, but he seemed to fit into your life like a glove right now. For however long that perfect fit would be.

A weak sigh leaves your lips as he strokes your head sweetly, his fingers then grazing your cheek. 

“Y’alright? Feel good?” 

You nod weakly and smile, letting your arms drop gently as you pull away. “M’tired.”

Joel stifles a chuckle and nods. “Me too, baby. Sit tight.” 

Once Joel is assured you’re not going to lose your strength standing up on your own, he shuts off the water and steps out of the shower, wrapping his towel low on his waist. You gaze at the lines around his hips, and how they dip down into his towel. 

You clear your throat as you quickly look away once he approaches you with two towels. He wraps one around your shoulders, gently moving his warm hands up and down the sides of your arms. 

You look so sweet, warm and cozy, cum-filled, at ease. The stress he usually sees you carrying around is wiped away. He hoped he had something to do with it. 

Joel leans down and presses a light kiss to your lips. Not hungry, not desperate, not chasing. Delicate. Assuring. 

You smile tiredly and shyly evade his eye contact, something that he hates to admit is goddamn adorable on you. 

Both of you towel dry off any remaining droplets of water. Joel forces you to show him how you even get the towel you wrap around your hair on your head. 

“This is girlhood, Joel Miller.” You say once you secure it on, watching him shake his head in disbelief. 

“A mystery to me.” He says with a boyish grin.

You both exit the steamy bathroom and search your bags for pajamas. You packed a few comfy shirts for bed. And only one extra pair of panties. You better be damn careful with your one last sacred pair. You toss it back into your pack for now, deciding that they would probably be taken off in the morning anyway. You slip under the covers of Joel’s bed, saving him a space you hope he fills. Of course, he does. 

Joel flips off the light switch, indulging the room in a black and blue hue. He grunts quietly as he slips into the covers. The both of you just melt into the mattress. 

You nuzzle into his side, and he wraps an arm around your shoulders. He makes gentle circles into your back as your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You sigh and turn your back to Joel to retrieve it from the charger. 

“Your parents askin’ if we made it okay?” Joel murmurs tiredly, eyes closed, waiting for you to return to his side. 

Your breath catches in your throat. It’s a text message from Nathan. 

Hey stranger

“Yeah,” you lie, your fingers gliding across the keyboard to configure a response. “They uh.. They’re tellin’ me to not bug you too much on the trip.” You awkwardly chuckle, your back still turned to him as you stare at Nathan’s message. 

Joel dryly chuckles as he reaches a hand out and settles it on your hip. “Quite the opposite.”

You feel terrible concealing this from Joel. But you don’t want him to think you were young and foolish letting your secret fling slip. This was to make things work, to keep the secret buried from your parents.

Another message from Nathan makes your phone buzz in your hand.

Heard you’re in Danbury for the summer with your folks. Wanna catch up? 

Your heart sits in your throat, shocked by his ask. 

You flip over your phone, opting to reply in the morning. You’re beat. You sigh weakly and return to Joel’s side, hiding your face in his shoulder as you gently kiss along the muscle. He was already passed out. 

As messy as this felt, being with Joel felt like being tossed a life jacket in open water. And you weren’t going to lose that safety, not if you could help it.

---

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[loveshotzz]

Hi Leighanne 🩷 can I please request on the balcony in early morning,  where neighbors might see,  but no one will likely look. with Colours Steve please? 👀

So fuckin excited to revisit the Foxy Lounge for Halloween!

Hi baby 💗 thank you for your request, I know how much you guys love colors!steve and how much I always avoid him 😂 so here is my gift to you for always being so sweet.

A/N: This blurb comes from my series Colors, you can read this as a stand alone if you want. Steve is in his 40’s and you’re in your 20’s and his daughters (her name is Jenny) best friend from college. For those that read the series, this takes place right after chapter three. enjoy 💗

WC: 1k

Warnings:18+ age gap (Steve is in his 40’s, R is in her 20’s) Best friends dad (affectionally known as colors!steve) semi public smut, dirty talk, cream pie all the time.

Older!bestfriendsdad!steve x fem!reader

You knew what you wanted saying yes to Jenny when she invited you on an impromptu trip to visit her Dad for a long weekend. Just like you knew what you wanted when you found yourself at his bedroom door at 4am despite calling it quits after New Year’s Eve, you just didn’t know he would give it to you.

The dark violet sky starts to burst with hues of oranges and pinks, the golden sun breaking through the last bit of night that has warm rays shine against already heated skin. The grip you have on the railing of his balcony is just as hard as Steve’s grip on your hips. Sleep shorts forgotten down by your ankles along with your oversized shirt. His gray sweatpants are pushed halfway down his hairy thighs, while the pads of his fingers dig into your soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises you’ll have to lie to Jenny about later.

The blunt ends of his nails dig crescent moons with each desperate roll of his hips, the sound of your slick growing loud enough to have you scared of waking her up with her bedroom window not that far from his on the second floor. The silver chain he wears runs cool up the dip of your back when he leans forward, pushing himself even deeper, trailing open mouth kisses wherever he can reach, your eyes rolling back when he hits the spot that makes you flutter around him.

“God, this pussy.” He groans, teeth nipping at your spine, the auburn and salt scruff that covers his jaw rubbing rough against you. “Always so tight honey, fuck - perfect.”

His words come out around huffed breaths, muttering against your sweat slick skin while his thrusts get slower - deeper, relishing in the feel of your silk wrapped around him like a vice grip, like you were close. He’d already pulled two out of you, one in his bed when his fingers curled just the right way to make you see white and another one with his face buried between your thighs when you came outside for a smoke break.

You were supposed to go back to your room before Jenny woke up.

He pulls himself all the way out, smirking when you whine a little, your own hips pushing back to try and chase him. His cock twitches in his hand when he sees the mess he’s made of you, how your walls seem to seem to beg for him with his fat tip pressed against your entrance.

“Yeah?” He chuckles darkly, watching how you drip more for him.

He doesn’t wait for you to answer, one rock of his hips burying himself all the way to the hilt of you again, the stretch burns making your jaw go slack. Big hands swallow yours around the railing, fingers intertwining as he folds himself over so the dark curls on his chest are pressed wet with sweat against your back. His thrusts become more controlled like this, shorter, more precise. The sweetness of your arousal still lingers hot on his breath that huffs against your neck, you feel surrounded by him like this.

“Couldn’t stay away could you? Those college boys don’t feel like this do they, baby? She missed me huh?”

Words get lost on your tongue when the tip of him reaches the place inside of you only he can find over and over again. All you can manage is a shake of your head, eyes screwing shut and knuckles flexing against his palms when you grip the metal bar harder. His hips stutter when he feels your cunt do the same.

“Steve - please.” You sound wrecked when you plead with him, while the tension building deep in your gut starts to come to a head, the beginnings of your third orgasm making itself known.

“Shit - I know, I know.” He hisses releasing one of your hands so the pads of his fingers can find your clit, the sun getting higher up in the sky is a reminder of the time, “gonna take care of her all weekend, fuckin’ dream about you and this pussy all the time. Missed it so much.”

His words and the circles eight’s his index and middle finger rub against your bundles of nerves rips a moan that borders the edge of too loud from your chest, making you both freeze for a second. The heavy length of him twitches deep inside of you and it has you grind your hips despite the consequences. His head drops, eyebrows marrying in the middle when you squeeze around him with purpose, a loose strand of hair falling against his forehead when he nods, meeting your movements with fingers that become determined.

“Need you to fall apart for me, we don’t have much time.” He whispers, lips brushing against the shell of your ear, “let me get another one, come on pretty girl.”

His hips circle, hitting angles he wasn’t before overwhelming you, becoming too much. He thrusts hard enough to have you on your tippy toes, getting you to do exactly what he wants. Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you bite down to try and stay quiet and you’re scared it’s going to draw blood, walls spasming around him so much that the intensity of your orgasm rings in your ears.

You squeeze his length like you’re trying to push him out, but it only makes him bury his cock deeper fighting against the velvet of your walls. It doesn’t take much to have him follow your lead, hot ropes spilling out of him warming your insides when he comes. The grip he still has on your hand turns his knuckles white as he dips his head into the crook of your neck, letting his moans come out muffled against your soft skin.

The stubble on his jaw threatens to rub you raw while his jaw tightens trying to calm himself down, while you flutter relentlessly around him in your aftershocks. He holds you to him, both of your chests heaving as you try to catch your breath. The birds chirping outside are loud enough to tell you it’s fully morning now, and you hear the sounds of Jenny’s bedroom door open and shut. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest until you hear her shuffle to the bathroom leaving you just enough time to sneak out.

“Come to my room earlier tonight, honey.” Steve finally whispers, smirking against your neck.

[sgt-seabass]

ʙᴜʀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ

✧˚ · . your fairy tale life ends in a slew of blood.

pairing — witch!bucky barnes x fairy!f!reader w/c — 5.3k listening to — ♫burn the witch warnings — no use of y/n, dark elements, body horror, blood and gore, non-con, kidnapping, bondage, chasing, mild violence, use of magic for evil deeds, drugging, dead dove (don’t eat it and complain to me about it) a/n — happy halloween! thank you to @goldylions for beta-ing. all mistakes are my own. shout out to @navybrat817, @rookthorne and @vonalyn for cheering me along with this fic.

Many fairy tales had been read to you as a child, back when you were small and your wings tiny. The forest was a place for fairy kind, as were all biomes. A holy sanctuary for those with magic, where the trees hugged and created a shelter of heaven-spun leaves and branches. An unspoken promise of protection.

It was not a place to be afraid. Not even in the nighttime. For the moon, bathed in the sun's light, provided a wave of peace to the world around it. The deepened hues of a dark forest lit by starlight were a place of magical refuge.

While many normal humans would be afraid, fairy-kind was taught that forests were a place of ancient souls, like the deep sea or the clouds above. And being half-fairy, this was a teaching you received at an early age.

But the forest you woke in was unlike any story you’d heard before. This was uncharted territory.

“Tinker Bell.”

The misty voice startled you awake. Your eyes opened, immediately taking in the deep red sky. There was a blood moon above, unlike any lunar eclipse you’d seen. The red glowed across the sky and your skin, as if you were alight with the malice that lay hidden.

As you sat up, you took in your surroundings. The dark oak and spruce surrounding you stood as noble knights, protecting something from view with its thick foliage. What wanted to remain hidden?

The dirt floor was sodden with woven roots and fallen leaves, dead and decaying. The only sweetness in the air was the subtle whiff of sap, but it was entirely eclipsed by the earthy smell of rotting wood among damp, stale bark.

This was no fairy tale but a place of nightmares.

No animals scurried at the sound of you rising, no birds sang, the area seemingly barren of any life. You didn’t know how you got here but knew you needed to get out. A place like this was not something Mother Nature would have conjured.

Your heart craved the softened, freshly aromatic scent of the forest near your family home. Where the leaves were crisp, and the sun gently kissed the treetops, creating a beautiful shine. You could almost taste the lovely sweetness of the fresh berries you’d find foraging. It was the opposite of how your stomach roiled at the smell of a dying forest.

The red light made it hard to see, darkness covering every inch of land. Looking down at the muddy turf, you wondered if it was blood you stood upon. But a quick swipe through the grime confirmed it was earth. There was an oddness to the scent of the soil. You rolled it between your fingers, pursing your lips. While it was dirt, this was not dirt you would find in the human world. It did not hold the magical properties it usually would.

This meant either you’d been transported to another realm or were stuck in a plane between the layers of earth and heaven.

Your hands patted over the clothes you’d been put in. A green sundress with a red robe tied neatly with a bow around your neck. These weren’t items from your closet. They felt fresh. New.

A sense of danger prickled across your skin, goosebumps rising on your flesh and hairs standing on end. You were not alone here.

The sound of old leaves crunching sounded behind you, and it didn’t take much initiative to begin running in the other direction.

Your heart began to race as a chase started with the unknown entity. You could hear it behind you, deep breathing and grunting. It was an obstacle course trying to avoid logs and roots, while trying to stop yourself from retching due to the pungent smell of burning, decaying flesh.

Sprinting away from danger raised a primal fear in you. The kind that rips your body apart so that every ounce of concentration, energy and intelligence can be used to escape the nightmares that trailed behind.

A blend of growls mixed in as a pack of rabid wolves jumped out from the side, lunging for you. You yelped, narrowly ducking and weaving away from the gnashing jaws of the animals. They joined the chase behind you, barking when you managed to jump a log that tripped a few of them. The wolves didn’t stop, though. They joined the ominous deep breathing that pursued you, as if you were Red Riding Hood fleeing from danger.

Needing to go faster, despite the close confines around you, you extended your wings from your back and threw away the cloak. Normally, your wings would open to the light of the sun, the streaks of light reflecting beautiful rainbow hues. But now, they added to the glowing red surrounding you, as if they were broken and bloodied. A sense of foreboding overtook you at the thought. 

You began fluttering to move faster, your feet only lightly touching the ground. Being half fairy, you couldn’t reach the heights of a typical fairy, restricted by your human-sized body, but that didn’t matter with the many branches that loomed and imprisoned you close to the forest floor.

Crows cawed, their wings flapping as they followed you with red eyes. You could tell they and the wolves were not real, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t hurt you. The birds dove for your wings, and you had to change paths to try and avoid them.  

Snakes slithered along the ground, and spiders bared their fangs on the branches above your head. It was claustrophobic, as if this evil presence was closing in on you, causing you a fear worse than your most violent nightmares.

With heaving breaths, running on pure adrenaline, you pushed yourself further than ever before.

You started to lose the animals and the mysterious creature, and it gave you a chance to begin your song.

Fairies cast their magic through their voices, affecting all who listened. Humans often did not understand the words but did not need to. The melody alone was enough to bring love and laughter to life. For that was the gift fairies brought. Through the pureness of their hearts, magic could be accessed and shared with the world.

While fairies appeared like blossoming flowers, there were dark vines that snaked from the ground. Those who used their magic for wicked intentions were considered dark witches. Banned from the sanctorum where Mother Nature sits, witches could never gain Mother Nature's trust, hence never earning their wings.

The song you cast into the acrid air was one of hope. A beautiful tune that caused fairy dust to fall from your wings as you fluttered faster, your strength increasing. But what you did not see behind you was the way the ground swallowed the dust, absorbing it to fuel a power that lay below.

“Tinker Bell.” A voice called to you. The name is reminiscent of the childhood teasing you’d endured during your youth. But the voice now held no innocent oblivion to the way it made fun of you. “Pretty fairy, you cannot outrun me.”

With no destination in mind and no path to guide your way, you continued through the forest with threatening sounds behind you. And before long, the trees opened up into a small clearing. There was no reprieve, though, as the trees that formed the circled area were so thick there would be no way you could continue into the forest without having to squeeze past.

Skeletons and discarded bones covered the ground, and each time your foot touched one, they crumbled with a sickening crunch. Humans, animals, and all kinds of beings lay dead in the field, no flesh left to discern them. Their graveyard would soon become yours too, you feared.

“Tinker Bell,” the voice sounded, and it was much closer now. You spun around with fluttering wings, doing a full turn with magic dust falling to the ground, but you couldn’t see anyone. The ground rumbled beneath you, and you gasped at the sight of vines shooting up to try and grab you.

With darting movements, you maneuvered around the vines that tried to capture you. But the more you began to panic, the more magic that came from you, and the world around you absorbed it. The vines started growing in power, getting thicker and faster the more you tried to fly away.

The blood moon was in full force now. The entire sky was a pool of scarlet, ruddy and nauseating. This realm was feeding off your fear, taking it and using it for its own power. 

It was then the being showed itself, walking from the thick foliage into view. The sight of him shocked you so severely that you became distracted, and the vines took their chance to snake around your ankles and up your legs, stopping at your upper thighs. Another two vines grabbed each arm, holding you helplessly in place.

Before you stood an Oni. Or at least someone appearing to be one. A Japanese legend, Oni, were created through the death of a wicked human. Weidling iron clubs as their weapon, they would find enjoyment in crushing and destroying humans. They were bearers of punishment. While this man had no weapon, you feared for what he had planned for you.

But what did you do apart from giving the world your pure heart? What made you deserving of an Oni’s wrath?

Your wings kept fluttering as you took in the man's mask. Covering his face was intricate carvings on a deep charcoal wood. Horns extended on either side, with swirls that covered them down to the blackened eye holes. You could see his piercing blue eyes, stark in comparison to the darkness that surrounded them. The carved swirls continued down the mask's jaw, where it had cut sharp teeth with two fangs on both sides. The man was bulky, not the size of the Oni you had heard of, but he certainly eclipsed the size of an average human. He had to be almost seven feet at least.

He wore only black, with loose pleated pants on his legs and a robe covering his top beneath. One of his hands shone in the red light, and it took you a moment to realise that’s because it was an intricate metal, not flesh.

The sight caused an unrelenting fear in you, as if he had your heart in his hand, beginning to squeeze your very life with his threatening grip.

“Hello, Tinker Bell,” the man spoke, the deep timbre of his tone shaking you to your core as you struggled against your binds. “Are you lost, little fae? These woods are no place for a fairy like you,” he teased, and you could hear the smile in his voice despite the way his face remained hidden.

“Then let me go,” you snapped, trying to use wisps of magic to get the vines to recede, but all it did was make them stronger.

“Ah, hm, no.” The man approached in long strides with flouncing hair as the vines forced you to your knees, your body sinking slightly into the plush earth. “That would be an awful waste of all my effort, Tinker Bell.”

“That’s not my name,” you snapped, beginning to tire of his antics. You just wanted to go home.

“Don’t bore me with your birth name. Tinker Bell suits you much more.” His stature towered above you as he looked down at you, his hair falling around the sides of the mask. The mask was even more intimidating up close. Power radiated off his being, darkness oozing like a sick sludge from him. This was a man to be scared of. 

You began to tremble, causing the vines to rustle as you tried to still yourself. In the eyes of a predator, it is best to try and make yourself seem intimidating. But there’s not much you can do as tears well in your eyes. Your mother had always teased you for having such a sensitive soul.

“Aww, are you going to cry? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

You sniffled, spikes of fear lighting your blood like an electric bolt. “What do you want?” 

“Those wings, pretty girl.”

Your eyes widened, and your blood ran cold. You held your breath with a sharp inhale, anxiety clutching at your heart. When you’d first presented with your wings, you’d been warned that they were a rare commodity, much like an elephant's tusks. There were puissant people who wanted to increase their power, and a set of fairy wings granted immense magical properties.

“I don’t want to die,” your voice turned into a high whine as reality set in. This red forest would be your final resting place.

The man laughed heartily, causing you to flinch like he had slapped you.

“Oh, you’re not going to die. Don’t you know? Fairy wings grow back. Why on earth would I kill you when I can have a fae of my own?”

If anything, that was a fate worse than death.

“What’s your name?” You gulped, holding back the sobs that wanted to escape.

“You can call me Bucky.”

You were not above grovelling, and you were already on your knees, so you begged. “Bucky - please. Just let me go home. I’m begging you. I have a family, friends, people who will miss me. Just let me go, and I won’t tell anyone about you.”

His eyes darkened as if they were adapting to the shade of the mask surrounding them. There was a deathly silence as he considered you. “No.”

He seemed angry at the mere thought of you being missed. You wondered if it was jealousy. Does he have anyone caring for him? Unlikely based on his method of trying to gain more power. This does not seem like a personable man.

So, you tried a different angle.

“Bucky, you’re a witch, right? That’s how we’re in this realm. You made it?” His eyes narrowed as you spoke, but he didn't stop you. “We’re the same. Magical beings. We should be working together, not against each other. M-Maybe I can help you with some magic? In exchange for my release?”

“The moment I let the vines go, let you leave this place, you will leave me and never look back. Don’t lie to me, Tinker Bell. I can see through your bullshit,” Bucky spat venomously, moving away from you towards a large log that sat in the clearing.

And he wasn’t wrong. It was your intention to run and conjure a teleportation spell the moment you got out of this nightmare realm.

The vines picked you up despite your screams for freedom, carrying you towards the log. “Please, don’t do this! We’re cut of the same cloth. We should be working together! You can stop now. It’s not too late. Please, let me go!”

Bucky watched as you were placed over the log so your front rested against the bark. Your body curved over the trunk, breasts squishing uncomfortably against the hard surface as the vines pulled your arms and legs towards the ground.

A heat rose in your cheeks. You were stuck with your ass elevated, your dress ridden up, so your panties were on display to Bucky. The more you struggled against the binds, the stronger they held.

The blood rushed to your head when you let your neck relax, chin bumping against the log. Reality was setting in, your hope beginning to whittle away. “Please, don’t.”

“Plead all you want, Tinker Bell. No one can hear you here,” Bucky’s voice sounded behind you, his hands groping at the flesh of your thighs. “In fact, I’ll enjoy it more hearing your sounds.”

Bucky let his hands run over your skin, causing goosebumps to rise everywhere he touched. You could sense the power emanating from him, a dark magic present in his entire being.

The vines held firm, so tightly wrapped around your limbs that it felt as if they were seconds away from snapping your bones in their grip. You whimpered, skin cutting against the bark as you writhed.

You couldn’t help the arousal that began to pool in your core with the way Bucky groped you. His devilish hands warmed you like he lit a fire in your entire being. He was undoubtedly a powerful creature.

“You’ll want to be numbed for when I cut your wings off…” Bucky trailed off, and when you looked back you gasped.

He’d taken his cock out. Hard, veiny, and inviting – the thick flesh had an angry red tip, shining precum at the tip. You wondered if he tasted as powerful as his magic.

Bucky took a string of fabric to tie back his hair so it was in a tight bun. You watched, mesmerised by how he moved so fluidly.

He kept his eyes on you the whole time, his dark stare not leaving you as his cock bobbed between his legs when you let out a sniffle.

The mask stayed on after Bucky had finished with his hair, and you couldn’t help but be curious about your captor. Would he look like the demon he projected?

Bucky lifted the bottom of the disguise to spit into his hand, running his palm over the ridges of his cock with a grunt as his metal hand yanked your panties down.

Reality came crashing down, and you cried out. “Wait! Don’t! Please, don’t.”

“You don’t want to be in pain, do you? I could cut your wings with no analgesic, but I’m doing you a favour by giving you my cum,” Bucky’s hands gripped either side of the trunk, allowing his cock to sit nestled in your exposed ass cheeks. “I’m being nice. I’m not even going to fuck you.”

You shook your head, a sob escaping you. “This isn’t being nice.”

“Oh? Not even when I do this?” Bucky snapped his fingers with an incantation, and a small vial of pink liquid appeared in his hand. He took the ampoule, moving his cock out of the way so he could pour it over your ass, letting the pink sparkling fluid seep down into your folds.

Your entire body went taut, sudden bolts of pleasure shooting through your body like firecrackers. Your toes curled, and you wailed out a moan, wings fluttering crazily as you tried to process what was happening.

The arousal coursing through you was like nothing you’d ever felt before, Bucky’s magic infecting you and making your brain spiral like you’d had multiple orgasms at once.

Rainbows of colour swirled in your vision as Bucky began sliding his cock against your ass. You could barely register the rocking movement as euphoria filled your brain, the lust making your hair stand on end.

“See? It’s not so bad, Tinker Bell,” Bucky groaned, humping against you and pushing you harder against the log. “I bet no one has touched you like this before.”

Bucky kicked your legs out so you were spread wider, allowing him to slide his cock along your pussy, collecting your arousal. He rubbed the tip of his cock on your clit, and you moaned obscenely. “St— op”

“Ah, you don’t really want me to, do you? Look how wet you are for me. I bet I could make you cum just with my cock.” Bucky wasn’t wrong. He rolled your clit with the head of his dick, and whatever magic he’d used on you had it feeling like tongues were lapping at you.

“That’s it, come on, cum for me. Soak me. Lose that innocence for me, my little slut,” Bucky leant forward, hands pressing down on your wings, teeth nipping at your ear.

That was all it took for the dams to burst. The world was vibrant as you came, red filling your vision, your body shaking with mewls as your juices gushed against Bucky’s cock.

Your wetness allowed Bucky to easily slide against your flesh, heat radiating from his pulsing cock as he grunted with each thrust. “Fuck. You’re perfect.”

Time seemed to warble, your brain unable to keep up as Bucky grabbed your ass, pressing your cheeks together so he could fuck them harder. “Shit, fuck, oh— oh, I’m close.”

Bucky suddenly pulled back, and you hoped the ordeal was over. How wrong you were.

“They’re soft as silk, Tinks,” Bucky commented, running his fingers over the reflective surface of your wings. You tried to flap them to get his hand to move away, but he was fast, grabbing onto the delicate membrane of your wing.

“Don’t touch them. That hurts,” you whimpered in your haze, writhing against the vines.

“Oh, I’m going to do far more than just touch them.”

You felt as Bucky played with the pliability of your wings, the body part easily manipulated as it was soft and light, the only dense part of your wings being the cartilage that secured them to your back.

Pure horror filled you as he placed his palm onto your wing, forcing it against the log, using his other hand to curve the opalescent surface of your appendage around his cock.

“Fuck. So fucking soft. I knew it would feel amazing,” Bucky moaned, using your wing like a sheath for his cock.

You could feel the heat from his dick against you, your wings sensitive and full of nerves like the rest of you.

“Stop…” You cried, tears still falling, and you were surprised you had any left to cry.

To be defiled like this was something unimaginable. The happiness that you so often felt in your soul was becoming a chimera – no more than a hopeful illusion.

With Bucky’s grunts sounding behind you, you craned your neck to look at the sky, the red reflection making it look as if you were shedding tears of blood.

The blood moon shone proudly, the sky clear of clouds, leaving just redness to cover everything. What did you do to deserve this? Was it simply your fate to be a sacrifice to the wretched? Was there such a thing as fate at all? For so long, you’d considered your life set up upon a lineage Mother Nature set out for you. But no loving figure would force this reality upon one of her creatures, right? Your whole belief system felt shaken, like your entire world compass was stomped on and shattered.

What had you done wrong?

In reality, you’d done nothing to merit such treatment.

Yet the world bestowed the pain on you regardless.

“Enough, stop. It hurts,” you whimpered, the bend on your wing uncomfortable as Bucky thrust into it.

“Oh, it feels too good to stop, pretty girl. It’s like fucking straight magic.” Bucky’s hands braced against the log, using wisps of dark power to keep your wing in a circle.

The power from him escalated, dark clouds pouring from him and billowing across the ground, covering the graveyard of souls surrounding you. His breathy moans got louder, his grip on the log causing cracks to form in the wood.

“F-Fuck, feels too good. I’m going to cum. Yeah, you want my cum, don’t you? Dirty slut.” His hips lost their rhythm, beginning to stutter as he came. Bucky was quick to pull back, his cum coating your back where your wings connected with your flesh.

It was an odd feeling that washed over you. It was something akin to calmness, although it was forced upon you. The last movement you could manage was to look back, brows knitting together when you saw that Bucky’s seed was coloured black, before your body went involuntarily lax.

You lay over the log, your breathing levelling out as you became numb to the world. His spell didn’t just anaesthetise your body, but your emotions too.

You couldn’t even wish to be asleep as you started at the foggy ground.

The vines eased up, not needing to hold you so tight when there was no struggle, their tension leaving marks on your limbs.

“You’re so perfect.” Bucky complimented, but there was no smile on your face.

There was nothing.

You were nothing.

This was the end of everything, and the start of the aphotic zone.

The remnants of your tears fell onto the bones below, cleaning away some of the dirt covering them. But the damage to them remained. Just as the damage to you began.

You couldn’t see what Bucky was doing, nor could you feel it, but you could hear it. There was a sick squelching noise, followed by a sawing sound, as Bucky began to hack at the cartilage connecting your wings.

It was like nails on a chalkboard, nausea roiling in your stomach as you had no choice but to lay there like a rat in a laboratory, ready to be dissected in some horrid experiment.

He could have magically removed them. He’d more than exemplified he had the power to. But he’d chosen the barbaric route for his own crooked pleasure.

Bucky was silent, concentrating on his work as your body wobbled with each run of the jagged blade against you. Blood coated your skin, the ichor running down your sides and covering the wood below you. It gushed out, and if you didn’t feel light-headed before, you certainly did now.

The only words you heard enter the world were a whispered fire incantation. It was then you smelt your flesh burning, the blade heated to cauterise your wound as it sliced.

If you had any control, you’d be wailing, screaming, doing anything to try and get out. Bucky stole your anguish from you, leaving you like a doll atop the log as your identity was violently stripped from your back.

Mother Nature had gifted you your wings. They were your responsibility. And you failed to protect them.

Yet, in your neutered state, you were apathetic about it.

The impromptu surgery went on for what felt like hours, the slow removal of your body parts done both with intricacy and unrelenting brutality.

Your back felt significantly lighter as your wings fell to the ground, crunching the skeletons below into dust.

It was done.

You would never be the same.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I left some scarring. I want my fairy to be special and bear markings made by her owner,” Bucky said proudly, as if you could respond.

You just stared at the skull below you. God, how you wished to be dead on the ground.

Bucky came around the log and stood in front of you, cupping your face with his palms so you were forced to look at his masked face. “Ready to go home?”

Drool dropped out of your mouth and down your chin, unable to control your functions. Bucky swiped away the moisture. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Bucky snapped his fingers, and you were instantly transported to his home.

It seemed like a small cabin in the middle of a forest, based on what you could see from the dirty window. Every surface was covered with tomes, vials, herbs, and materials needed for spells.

The place had an earthy smell with a mix of floral sweetness.

You sat in the corner of the room, and it took you a moment to realise you sat in a large birdcage. With your body still paralysed, you could only elicit a small whimper at the realisation that you were trapped. A purple field covered the cage, assumedly stopping you from using magic.

Bucky startled you, suddenly materialising with your wings in his arms. Seeing them made your heart drop to the earth's centre. They’d lost their colour, aura, and everything that made them special. Now, they were no more than an ingredient.

You watched as Bucky placed them onto his desk, dusting himself off before turning his attention back to you. “Sorry about the mess. I should have cleaned up before you came over. But I’m sure you won’t mind.”

There was a sense of anticipation as he removed his Oni mask, showing you for the first time his face. You were surprised at how handsome and regular he looked. Sometimes, the evillest were the people we’d never suspect if we passed them on the street. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” He waved the mask before placing it next to your wings. “Since I act like a demon, I might as well look like one, right?”

With a grin, he moved to the bubbling cauldron that was hanging atop a fireplace, scooping up some of the mystery green liquid into a small wooden bowl.

There was intention in every movement as he collected the foul-smelling soup. As he came to your cage, every part of you wanted to scream and run. Yet you didn’t move an inch, sitting upon the cot with your back to the cage wall.

“Here. This will help you heal faster,” Bucky said, as if you had a choice in what you consumed. You felt ill as he got closer with the sloshing broth, your stomach flipping as he raised it to your lips. He had to physically pry your mouth open to pour the soup in, the heat sliding down your slack throat with ease. “That’s my girl, Tinks. Such a good fairy.”

His praises fell on deaf ears as your senses were overtaken by the putrid taste and smell of whatever concoction he had fed you. Almost instantly, you got movement and feeling back.

For the first time in your life, anger overtook you. You’d never felt rage before, but it was all that occupied you now.

With your wings gone, a whole part of you had been taken away. Without your gift of purity, you didn’t have the same emotional control. You felt human.

You jumped up, whacking the bowl from his grip and wrapping your hands around Bucky’s neck, ready to squeeze the life out of him. “I’m going to kill you,” you snarled, entirely unlike your usual self.

Bucky had stolen your innocence and replaced it with darkness.

“Is that so?” Bucky tilted his head, unphased as you squeezed. “Interesting.”

Your anger turned to desperation as Bucky’s form turned to sand in your grip, the course grit slipping through your fingers.

“No!” You screeched, running for the open cage door.

But Bucky was faster, reappearing on the other side of the cage and quickly slamming the wire door in your face.

“No! Let me out! You fucking wench! Hag! Get back here, you old bag and fucking let me go!” You gripped the bars, shaking them desperately as you tried to conjure as much magic as possible. But you had nothing, Bucky’s forcefield holding strong. “I can see why Mother Nature rejected you, warlock. You’re nothing more than an imp, picking on others so you can feel better about your own weakness. You fucking prick.”

There was no chastity left. Your virtue had been lost when your wings were stripped from your being.

“Now, now, that’s not nice. You hurt my feelings.” Bucky frowned, moving back from your enclosure. “Those wings of yours will grow back, and so will your temperament. I’m a very patient man, and I have no issue making your whole existence suffering. But if you know what’s good for you, you will apologise when I return. Wings or not, I expect you to keep the nature of a fairy, Tinks.”

With a flash, Bucky disappeared, leaving you alone in the dank room.

You collapsed to your knees, resolving into a fit of sobs. Without your object of anger there, you were reduced to nothing but sorrow.

Letting out a shuddered breath, you looked over your shoulder. Out from the scarring, popped the smallest amount of new cartilage.

The cycle would begin again.

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[choices-and-voices]

Quotes from Kieran that straight-up sound like Shakespearean love poetry: a comprehensive list

‘None may touch me. None but you.’

‘What is left of my heart belongs to you. When you leave, it will shatter anew.’

‘Tell me I did not hurt you.’

‘How am I expected to pass another century without the taste of you on my tongue?’

‘After so many decades spent hating each sunset, knowing nightfall would take my freedom from me... I began to yearn for the moonrise instead of cursing it. Because dreams of you might be waiting on the other side.’

‘I would rather be cursed to roam the wilds as a beast every night than live endless lifetimes without you.’

‘Wherever it is that souls may go, you will find mine waiting for you at the end of all things.’

‘You shall pay dearly for every spilled drop of her blood.’

‘I was not lying. Were you?’

‘Just this once, beloved... I wish you could not lie.’

‘You hold all of my heart, beloved. Now, and always.’

‘I would make and unmake the world for you, beloved.’

‘Believe me when I say I want every part of you. Every version. Now and future.’

‘Look, beloved. Your skin is a canvas covered in stars.’

‘If I were you, I would begin by thanking her and throw yourself on her continued mercy. Because you’ll get none from me.’

‘What would be the point of immortality without you?’

‘No magic. Like an everyday mortal.’

‘Insult her again, and I will carve my refusal into your flesh, so that you may never forget it.’

‘I don’t care what your title is. Every breath, every beat of my heart belongs to you. You are mine for life.’

‘Thank you… for sharing the sky with me.’

‘If you lay a single hand on her, there will be nothing left of this place but a hole in the ground.’

‘Let us live in this moment long enough that I may love you the way you deserve.’

‘I will let nothing separate us… I shall always find you. Your heart calls to mine in a language beyond words.’

‘For you I would set worlds aflame, tear the sun and moon from the sky. I did not live before I met you.’

‘Perhaps you are the most courageous of all, for choosing to live among us. A mortal among gods.’

‘Welcome home, beloved.’

‘You helped me find peace in my grief. I will always help you find peace in yours.’

‘You sacrifice too much for me, beloved.’

‘I cannot give you my heart. It already belongs to someone else.’

‘There will always be tasks vying for our attention. But you are more important to me than any of them.’

‘I like being in here. I always want you to have the freedom of a place to call your own… and it means everything, that you welcome me in.’

(And finally, BONUS: Quotes from *other* characters in The Cursed Heart that straight-up sound like Shakespearean poetry, because the writers of this book just do. not. rest.)

‘I know you. I’m not afraid.’

‘I love him so terribly, it hurts.’

‘You are so much stronger than you know. And a love as strong as this is worth fighting for.’

‘Even if you kill me, I’m glad I met you. Because you deserve to be happy. You deserve to be loved. And I will love you until my very last breath.’

‘The world is rarely gentle to those who are so kind. It is you who must be the strongest of all.’

‘What do you want with that cursed thing?’ / ‘To cut the Sun and the Moon from the sky.’

‘Anything here that wishes to eat me had best prepare to choke.’

‘I know you. And I love you. Both your darkness and your light.’

‘You are everything I want. Just you. Just like this.’

‘If love could forestall death, we would all be immortal.’

‘All stories end. Even ours. That’s what makes them beautiful.’

‘I don’t care where I sleep, so long as it’s beside you.’

[nepxnth3]

Your Secret Admirer

ONESHOT. Wally Darling x G!N reader

Ever since you moved to the neighborhood you’ve been getting love letters in your mailbox daily.

In the letters they always complimented your hair, your eyes, your features, the way you dress and talked, your hobbies, etc. they sounded so passionate when you read them, you should have been weirded out but they way they wrote you was as if they yearned for you as if they were devoted to you. It was such a romantic way they wrote. It’s was so loving, passionate they wrote as if they desired. Like they were longing for your touch, your affection, most importantly you.

In the morning, before you were awake, you would receive the letters. At this point you wanted to find out who your secret admirer is, so, you called for your best friend, the one who always on your side, Wally. You invited to your house to discuss who it might be. You heard a knock on your door, it was Wally! “I was expecting you, Come in” you said with a warm smile. He smiled back “Thank you, Neighbor. So what’s the thing you wanted to discuss with me?” He asked. “Well, I have a secret admirer. I was wondering if you could help me find out who it is?” You questioned him.

Wally stayed quiet for a second, he seemed nervous, slightly turning a red- shade. “Are you alright, Wally?” You asked confused. “Yes, I will.” He boded, I smiled “Thank you, you’re the best!”, “well how do you plan to find the admirer?” He questioned. “I plan to stay up all night and wait for him!” You beamed a smile at him. He chuckles slightly, “Alright.”

You and Wally stay up all night. It was quite late. Both of you playing at the floor staring at the plain celling. “You think this will work?” He smiled as if to tease you. “Of course this’ll work!” You grinned. “Isn’t it getting late?” He asked. “Nope, I’m busy waiting for my admirer.” You slowly got tired and you started yawning. “Can you keep up, like let’s have a conversation so we can stay up.” You turn to him. “Mmmm, Alright.. so how about we ask questions to each other?” He asks. “Mmmm, Okay that sounds fun! I’ll go first!” You say with a cheery voice. “What is one thing about me that you never want to see change?” You asked looking at him before looking to the ceiling, not really thinking a lot about the question.

He stayed quiet for a few seconds. It got you nervous how quiet he got. You turn to him, you see him stare at you. “ Everything. I I never want you to change. You’re already perfect the way you are. The way you laugh, the way you smile, I love your jokes I love how positive you can be, I love how you help out in the community. I love how caring and kind you are. I love how you always show compassion. I love the way you look, your eyes are so beautiful I never want to look away from you. My heart aches for you, every time we are away I think of you. I love your insecurities, I love and accept everything about you. I love your scent I love how it stays with me even while you are gone. When I pass by beautiful things like the sky, the sun, the moon the stars, etc. and I think of you, when I wake up I wish to see you, every second I am awake, I think of you. I don’t want to be places where I am not with you. I’ve never felt this way with anyone. There’s no other person I rather be with.” Wally says with a straight face, while staring at you. His pupils seemed bigger.

Now you knew who your secret admirer was. It was Wally, well it was quite obvious now. Your heart skipped a beat, you turned red and you opened your mouth. “Wally, I feel the same way, I’m so surprised you feel this way about me.” Your face turns red and you cover your mouth not to show yourself smiling and giggling. He smiled and his eyeslids slightly closed. You could hear your heart pounding through your chest.

“Are we official?” He asks. “Yes. Yes we are.” You smiles at him. “Can I hold you?” He said softly. You nodded softly and gave him a smile. Your stomach felt as if it had butterflies.

He slowly and gently wraps with arms around your waist and gets close to your ear, “ I love you,Neighbor.” before he puts his chin on your shoulder. You blushed at his affection but you smiled. You squeezed him slightly tighter.

“I love you too.”

Author’s comment:

I suddenly have motivation to write, which is great but I don’t have ideas what to write ( ಠ◡ಠ )

[miercoooles]

No but why can I see Checo and Leclerc! sister sending the overprotective brothers updates while they're on holidays or everyone sending pictures of Leclerc! Sister when she falls asleep in most random places.

Why do I feel so called out about the part where Leclerc!reader falls asleep at the most random places???

Since you’re the only female daughter of Pascale, your brothers tend to be overly protective of you, even when you got married to the point that they threatened Checo to send updates of you whenever you’re both on vacation or just together outside. So Sergio had no choice but to make a group chat of him together with your three brothers.

Your significant other and brothers kept this a secret from you as to not worry you or think that they don’t trust you. They do trust you, with their whole life, but they’re scared to lose you. After all, in their eyes you’re the princess, the lady Leclerc of the family aside from your mother, so they held great pride when it came to you.

It was summer break for both you and Checo so the two of you decided to getaway from the same place and go to Maldives. Your brothers didn’t know about this, but you had told your mother about it which she was okay with. When Charles was looking for you the next day, Pascale only shrugged saying she had no idea where you are. And that only left Charles to message the groupchat with Checo about your whereabouts.

When the notification popped up on Sergio’s phone, you were both having lunch in a bungalow. Checo looking at his phone, immediately saw Charles’ message, and when you weren’t looking, he snapped a photo of you sending it to the groupchat. When Charles received the photo, he nodded to himself before sending a “have fun” to Checo.

When three hours has passed, you decided to drag Checo and go scuba diving. While your significant other protested and thrashed, you were having none of it explaining to him that what was the purpose of having a vacation in Maldives if you weren’t going to scuba dive. Checo knowing that he won’t be able to argue anymore, let himself get dragged by you.

As he enjoyed himself getting pulled by you to the ocean, he took another candid photo of you, smiling to himself. He then sent it to the groupchat with the caption, “scuba diving” before leaving his phone at the given cupboard.

When Sergio saw you standing at the edge of the dock waiting for him, he smiled softly to himself as he admired you. He watched you as you basked in the warm, ethereal glow of the setting sun. The sun's gentle caress highlighting every contour of your face, casting long, romantic shadows. Your eyes sparkle, reflecting the hues of the sky, and your smile radiates pure happiness. In that fleeting moment, time seems to stand still, and Sergio was once again reminded of the beauty of love and nature coming together in perfect harmony.

When he was only an inch left away from you, he leaned down and captured your lips, pulling you into a soft and affectionate kiss. You were astounded by what he did, but you didn’t protest instead you pulled him closer wrapping your arms around his neck before pulling him with you to the ocean.

You both fell in the cold waters, and when you both got up to the surface, your husband was looking at you with furrowed eyebrows. You let out a gentle laugh as you swam closer to him, fixing his soaked hair and putting it to the side before pulling home into a kiss again, this time no more joking.

When he pulled away, he gave a cheeky grin then splashed your face with water. And let’s just stay instead of actually doing the itinerary, you and Checo instead just swam around the ocean, enjoying each other’s presence.

When the sun has set and the moon shone brightly on the dark sky, Checo decided that it was time for both of you to get out and have dinner. Hearing your stomach grumble, you followed him out the water, grabbing yourself and drying yourself up.

Checo noticing your shivers, covered you with his own towel before wrapping his arms around your shoulder, warming you up. You leaned yourself on him as he guided you to the bungalow.

When he saw you comfortably on the chair, he went up and grabbed dinner for the both of you. But when he sat down and arrived on your table, he was starstrucked at how you managed to fall asleep with your posture still fixed.

Holding back his chuckle, he took another photo and sent it to the group chat, this time the one with Pascale. Almost all of them immediately sent a reply, laughing and talking about how you’re always sleeping anywhere any time possible.

Checo knowing how tired you must be, tapped you softly on the shoulder and asked if you wanted to go rest instead of having dinner. You groggily shook your head, grabbing your utensils as you let out a gentle yawn making Sergio smile.

As you both finished eating, your husband took both your plates and placed it in their respective places before returning to you and helping you up. He guided you so that you were standing behind him before he crouched down and helped you get on his back while you half-sleepily wrapped your arms around him.

Carrying you in a piggyback ride, he slowly walked to your shared hut, humming quietly as he smiled to himself while thinking of those wholesome moment with you. It never ceases to amaze him how you have the ability to fall asleep anywhere, anytime as long as you’re exhausted. It doesn’t matter how uncomfortable it would feel after or what body part of you will ache, you will still fall asleep anyway.

When he arrived at your room, he gently placed you in the middle of the bed before disappearing into the bathroom and appearing again with a wet face towel. He went to your side and cleaned you up, removing your swimwear and replacing it with his own clean shirt. Finishing up with you, he covered your lower extremities with the thin blanket provided before taking one last photo of you then sending it to the groupchat and saying good night to your brothers as well as he cleaned himself too.

*fast forward after break*

As mentioned, it has been a weird habit of yours to fall asleep anytime and anywhere. And it’s no secret to your significant other, family members, and even co-drivers on how you are able to do that. In fact, even your fans know about that peculiar habit of yours and they adored you more ever since.

Since you were driving for Ferrari, you are team mates with your brother and let’s say the both of you are quite unstoppable when working together. But today, it seemed like none was going to your plans as two red flags have already occured and it’s just the second free practice.

The first red flag occured when Hulkenburg crashed into the barriers because of a break issue and that caused around 20 minutes of the first free practice to be wasted. What you did, however, was you asked your engineer to play soft classical music before dozing off in your car as you waited for the session to continue. When the cameras showed a display of you, everyone watching chuckled and shook their heads, clearly aware of your silly antics.

Now for the second time around, the red flag happened because even thought it was just the second free practice, everyone decided to play bumpy cars and crashed into one another, and by everyone you meant George, Max, and Lando.

But now instead of staying in your car, you went out of your car, and you sat beside your race engineer, deciding to talk about the upgrades brought into the car before you left and went to the Red Bull garage, specifically your husband’s garage.

On the way you greeted, Hugh Bird, Checo’s engineer and asking him where your significant other was. Hugh only shrugged, mentioning the last time he saw your husband was on his way to relieve himself. And upon deciding that you’ll wait for him, you sat at the little corner of his garage’s side.

Holding your knees to your chest, you leaned your forehead on top of your knees before even realising that you were falling into slumber. You only woke up from your power nap when you felt someone sit beside you. Looking up, you saw your husband, a wide cheeky grin plastered on his face before he kissed your cheeks.

“Nice nap, amor? No stiff necks?” He asked teasingly.

Scoffing, you nudged him softly and you rolled your eyes which made him laugh. And when he was done with his laughing fit, you leaned your head on his shoulder. Checo realising what you were doing, he guided your head on his shoulder before kissing the crown of your head.

“You can nap more, comfortably this time. I’ll wake you up when the session is green flagged.”

Yawning to his statement, you gently nodded your head to at least let him know you understood. He once more planted a kiss on your head before he took your hands in his and caressed it gently.

The next time you woke up, Checo was poking your legs and opening your eyes, you were greeted by the cameras of F1 medias and your brother, Charles.

Squinting as the flash hits your eyes, you looked at Checo who only gave you a sheepish grin as he stood up and helped you up too.

“Recharged again, mi cielo?” He asked softly and you nodded, stretching your body as you fixed your race suit.

Charles impatiently waiting for you, said good bye to your husband and grabbed your hands, dragging you outside your team’s rival garage and bringing you to your home turf.

Laughing to his childish behaviour, your laugh only disappeared when you saw the screen replay the video of you and Checo in the corner. Now it was Charles’ turn to laugh at your reaction, not until you punched him on the arm gently.

When your race engineers said that the session was resumed, you got ready and went into race mode.

MY GOD THIS TOOK FOREVER 😭

[consuming-karma]

OLDER.

buwan’s notes: I need to be put under watch, I have been sobbing relentlessly to Older by 5SOS, I’ve missed a bunch of music from their band and I’m really honestly mad 😭. This fic is definitely inspired by mentioned song, this fic has all of my favourite lyrics from the song scattered around its paragraphs. Please do enjoy <3.

episode summary: Dwayne didn’t want to leave his human life without you, and he most definitely doesn’t want to leave his vampire life without you either.

content warnings: BEING FUCKING SAD. This whole mini-fic is literally just Dwayne being in love with you.

tags: @britany1997 @desoolate .

[dwayne x fem!reader.]

“I don’t want to be immortal.” Dwayne mumbled, looking at the midnight sky. You hummed, “you’re still thinking about their offer?” Dwayne could feel your hands run themselves through his dark locks. “I don’t wanna leave you..” his gaze switched to you, looking down at him with an undeserving loving stare.

“You don’t have to, I’ll be with you.” You replied, continuing to stare into Dwayne’s brown irises, admiring the love of your life.

“You’d..give up your humanity? For me? Do you really wanna do that, love?” He slowly sat up, your eyes following his movements, Dwayne’s question made you think for a few seconds, you’d get to leave everyone else behind, it’ll be you and Dwayne, for a long, long while.

“If forever is something you see us having, why not?” You pulled the man to your lips, giving him a reassurance he didn’t know he needed. “You’ll have to kill, and feed on others, that doesn’t scare you?” Dwayne mumbled into your lips, holding your wrists which held his face in a warmth, memorizing how much he loved feeling you.

“what more do you want to ask for other than yes, Dwayne?” You laughed. “I just want you to be sure, I’ll be the only thing you’ll have, and you’ll be mine.” You shook your head at his reasoning. “I’m sure, I don’t want to be older, at least, not without you.”

“Hi, love.” Dwayne greeted, rubbing his eyes of sleep. You were huddled by the fountain, safely watching the sun turn in for the night.

“Hi.” You replied curtly. You felt your boyfriend’s presence beside you. “What’re you thinking about?” His arm snaked its way onto your shoulders, pulling you close to his side. “I just missed the sun is all..” Dwayne could almost laugh at your excuse, you were never one to lose sleep over something small, especially the ball of heat in the sky.

A small silence befalls the both of you, a cool air replaces the hot sun, signalling that the moon was to show, and it would be safe to traverse the earth.

“We’d be really old by now, you know that?” You broke the silence, looking over to Dwayne, who seemed busy looking over your features, how your smile was so soothing to him, he didn’t need to stare at the sun to be reminded of its warmth when he had you.

Dwayne moved up to your eyes, the way your eyelashes would cover your wonderful irises, the way they’d kiss your cheeks for every time you blinked. One thing vampirism couldn’t take away from him was his admiration for you. His dear, devoted delicate.

“Good thing we became vampires then, I don’t think I’d like you all saggy and crinkly.” Dwayne joked, squeezing your shoulder in a light-hearted way. “That’s mean!” You pushed him away, your nose scrunching up from his dumb joke.

“You know you’d be crinkly too,” you snickered, joining along. “I’m so happy I met you all those years ago.” Dwayne expressed, his laugh dying down.

“The boys will wanna go down into the town soon.” Dwayne reminded, taking his arm off of your shoulders to rest his hand on top of yours, on the cold stone of the cave.

“You’re right, I should go get Laddie ready then, no?” You tilted your head off into the direction of the kid’s small alcove. Dwayne watched as you stood up, getting ready to walk off.

His rough hands stopped you, making you almost stumble at the tug. “I love you. So much. I hope you never leave me.” Dwayne confessed, your heart felt like it was going to beat again, hearing those words come out of your dark-haired boyfriend.

“The time you leave me, I’ll forever be bleeding love.” You pulled Dwayne up, making him stand with you, you loved these moments, the most vulnerable, the ones where Dwayne was still human, in your eyes.

As a vampire, you slowly start to lose your humanity the longer you live on. To you, it always seemed like Dwayne would never experience that, he still loves with all of his heart, even if he doesn’t show it.

You’re glad that one thing didn’t go away.

“Well, let’s hope the world spins a little slower then, I want all the time we can get.” Your hands caressed the dark-haired man’s jaw. Your eyes flicked from his lips to his eyes before you leaned in, your lips meeting his once again.

“They murdered him— they fuckin’—“ Dwayne punched the wall of the cave, the thud echoing against the caves, “they took Laddie too..” you sighed, it was the night everything went wrong, when the Emersons decided to ruin their lives.

It was the three of them, you, him, Laddie. Dwayne had everything he wanted. A band of the loyalest friends you could get, the immortality, the love of his life.

“We’re gonna take our revenge, I’ll rip their heads off their fucking bodies for ruining us.” Dwayne growled, his vampire features showing through his human one. You didn’t know whether or not to be as angry.

You weren’t alive, you remembered, your heart didn’t beat, but it still felt like it did, Marko was a friend to all of you, a brother even. Even though the boys had an evil reputation to upheld, Marko promised he’d show you how to sew after you’d drunkenly rambled about your dreams of marrying Dwayne.

You remembered what Marko told you that one sunrise, all before you went to sleep. “Your guys’ love is tailor-made. One with no tragedy at the end.”

He wanted to help you make your wedding dress. You mourned the death of your curly-headed brother, you weeped and wailed as you watched his body fall off the rails, onto the cursed frog brothers.

You couldn’t reply to Dwayne, only stopping him when he tried to leave your side to band with his mourning brothers for revenge.

“I don’t want to lose you.” You whimpered, your eyes pleaded for him to stay, that’s why he didn’t look at you. “I don’t want to lose another tonight.” Your sentence left you with a whisper, holding Dwayne’s ring-clad hand tighter.

Dwayne stayed quiet, his head fighting a battle with his feelings, your desperation made him want to stay, to comfort you, to show that he knew he wasn’t the only one hurting.

In the end, his brothers needed him, and for once he chose something over you. “I’m sorry love, my brothers, our brothers, they need me. I have to go with them.” Dwayne whispered back, his hand travelled to your cheek, his thumb wiping away a rare tear.

“You promised you’d stay with me, our forever, remember?” You were always good at backtalk, he knew he promised that he’d be here for you, like all those years ago when he told you that he was going to be the only person you know, and you, him.

“I can’t.. Marko didn’t deserve that, you know as well as I do—“ Dwayne stopped you from continuing your complaints, fearing he wouldn’t be able to take revenge, and he’d know he’d lose his brothers’ trust and he didn’t want to lose another thing in the same night either.

“How will I know you’ll return to me? What if, you leave me alone?” You spat, your eyes starting to water, you were a sensitive vampire, feeling instead of feasting.

“I will return to you. When have I ever not?” Dwayne didn’t want to think about the weight of his words, only the fact that this was an unwritten promise to survive his battle with the Emersons to return back to your side.

This was the moment you knew you couldn’t stop Dwayne. As much as it hurt you to let go of his palm, you gently pulled his hand away from your cheek, a silent look in your eyes told him to stay safe, and to come back to you.

Dwayne didn’t say anything else, walking off to join his brothers’ on their path to revenge.

“You’re a huge liar, you know that?” You mumbled, holding a ripped piece of leather in your hands, the tips of your fingers remembering every texture it could feel of the fabric.

You were alone, the huge cave was yours, bitterly so. They didn’t return, none of them, not David, not Paul, especially not Dwayne, your Dwayne.

You knew they had gotten themselves killed, it took a while to realize that Dwayne probably knew he wouldn’t return to you either. His words were an empty promise, so that you would feel at ease.

And you hate that it did ease you, for a while anyway.

Star was the one that confirmed that your lover left you. She picked up the scraps, the remains of what she could of your boyfriend, returning it to you with a guilty pain.

Star never resented you, she was..somewhat happy you didn’t come with the boys. When Star was first initiated, you were there to help her get past the scary realization that she was going to be immortal and alone.

Star remembered how you held her with the warmth of the sunlight, she asked herself how you could be so kind, being a monster of the night. You merely joined your lover to the end, and it was painfully clear that you hadn’t had a mission in mind, other than seeing Dwayne through it all, forever.

So, in a poor attempt to give her thanks, and her apology, she returned what she could of Dwayne to you. Hugging you only when you seemed to lose every strength in your legs as your hands cradled the pieces of Dwayne’s favourite jacket.

“What happened?” You whispered, your tears forever flowing from your eyes, “his jacket’s all ruined?— this was his favourite, how— I—“ your lips couldn’t form a sentence when your mind had dawned on the fact that Dwayne was dead and that your forever had ended.

Star only hugged you tightly as you screamed and weeped into her chest. She wished she could’ve done more.

You looked around the empty cave, only memories remained inside, the fountain, the little trinkets Paul collected, the books Dwayne accumulated, the fabrics Marko had stolen, the cigarette butts David threw away. You wish you could say everything was here but it wasn’t, the boys weren’t here.

You had long packed your stuff, a duffel bag full of clothes you could bring, all from various piles of whatever you could find from the boys, mostly Dwayne’s and clothing you’ve bought.

There was nothing left in the cave for you, the one reason to stay wasn’t there anymore. You gathered the last of your things as Star waited outside, waiting to help you travel through the night to wherever you wanted to go.

You knew you should hate Star, for sealing the boys’ fate, when she had snitched to the Emersons of their vampirism. There wasn’t much options though, you had to stop your pity party, you had to leave, and only Star knew how to help you. You were the only vampire in Santa Carla now, and she knew.

You gave yourself one last tour of the cave, peeking into the personal alcoves the boys had given themselves, reminiscing, getting ready to let go. They weren’t human, but they made the cave feel like home, it made you think that maybe they didn’t lose their humanity after all.

Finally, you stopped at your shared alcove with Dwayne, the ground littered with books he read with you, the wilted flowers he stole off of a couple for you, the candle lit bed was unmade, from the last time it was used. You didn’t have the heart to fix anything up.

It felt like if you fixed it up, you’d finally be erasing the fact that the boys were ever here, and how could you do that to Dwayne?

One last sweep of the room, your hand gently swiped the bed on the cave floor, before reluctantly pulling away. “You ready?” You jumped at the sudden voice, seeing Star at the entrance of the cave, looking at you.

Her hands fiddled with themselves, obviously uncomfortable being back at the cave. You nodded, holding your duffel bag tight to your figure before walking off with Star, every step felt dreadful, getting closer and closer to beyond forever and leaving everything you know behind.

Although, something makes you feel like Dwayne would be glad, that you’re not moping, that you’re not angry he hadn’t fulfilled his promise of forever, his dear beloved delicate.

I don't wanna get older,

Without your head on my shoulder.

On the day that you leave me,

I'll forever be bleeding, love.

As forever comes closer,

Hope the world will spin slower,

I don't wanna get older.

- older, 5 seconds of summer, ft. sierra deaton.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Yandere Apollo with Boa Hancock!reader. Apolo is interested in reader and she rejects him but this doesn't stop him.

-You were stunning, beautiful, you were the moon to his sun! Your radiant confidence in your looks and your skills as a leader were both so attractive, you were truly a queen!

-However, you were also very, very popular. Men and women alike adored you, worshipping the ground you walked on but you ignored them, treating at least the men like they were beneath you, while you were softer on women, showing Apollo what a kindhearted woman you were!

-You were also insanely powerful, an incubus tried to hit on you, begging you to be with him, “Please my queen, I’ll do anything!!” your roundhouse kick to his face, turning half of his head into stone which started to crumble away startled many around you.

-You set your feet apart, one hand coming to your hip while the other lifted and you bent over backwards to look at the sky, looking down on him, “Don’t speak so casually to me, you trash. I am an empress, not a mere queen!”

-Apollo looked at you as if you hung the stars in the skies for him, head over heels in love with you, but noticed that you always refused anyone who were bold or brave enough to ask you out.

-Of course, Apollo knew it was because you just hadn’t found the perfect man…yet!

-When he first approached you, a giant bouquet of the most gorgeous red roses, kneeling before you, “My beautiful Empress Y/N, would you become to moon to my night sky?” you kept walking right on by, “Don’t talk to me.”

-He froze, turning pure white in shock, even his roses turned white, stunned that you snubbed him- Apollo- so easily!

-He was quick to bounce back to try again, but every single time you rejected him, not even bothering to look in his direction. But with each refusal he only grew more and more enraptured with you.

-Apollo did his research, following after you carefully, as he had been almost spotted by that snake of yours numerous times, he learned the things you liked, what skin and hair care products you liked, flowers you were fonder of than roses, he wanted to make you fall for him by showing you how attentive he was to your needs.

-He then started up again, approaching you with your favorite brands, trying to win you over with presents and trinkets, but you could see the look in his eyes, it was much like the look in other people's eyes, a look of want.

-You would not be swayed by this god, as he didn’t have your heart, and when he approached you again and was actually bold enough to grab your hand, he only barely dodged your kick that took out a brick wall with ease, fury in yours eyes.

-He took that interaction that you didn’t like to be touched, but of course you wouldn’t, you were perfection! And nobody should be able to touch perfection!!

-That is…until he saw you with Sasaki Kojiro, a man much older looking than you, and Apollo froze, seeing you look like a pure maiden, blushing cutely, looking away from Kojiro while holding your cheeks, your eyes were bright and the smile on your face was so genuine that Apollo fell in love with you all over again!!

-Fury built up inside of him like the flames of the sun, seeing you actually holding Kojiro’s hand, little hearts surrounding you like you were head over heels in love with him.

-Apollo couldn’t understand it, what did you see in Kojiro that he didn’t have, Apollo was handsome, any woman in Valhalla would do anything to be with him! Kojiro was goofy, not at all elegant, he was covered in scars, while Apollo was the peak of perfection from top to bottom!

-WHY DID YOU WANT KOJIRO AND NOT HIM?!?!

-Apollo was infuriated, seeing you look so happy with another man; however, he wasn’t upset at you, never at you, you could do no wrong.

-His anger shifted to Kojiro, the man who took you away, he felt his blood pressure rising, glaring at Kojiro. He inhaled deeply as his eyes closed.

-Kojiro needed to go, but he couldn’t do anything with you around, or you would get upset with him, and Apollo wanted you to come to him for comfort when you found your ‘love’ dead.

-He needed to be careful.

[writingjourney]

Hiiii! I was wondering if you could maybe write about copia struggling to do his makeup and asks (y/n) for help?

let me help | copia x gn!reader

Thank you for your suggestion anon, it inspired me to this little fic. It may be a bit different from what you had in mind but I hope you enjoy it anyway :) @leezlelatch here it is ♡

summary: your papa is overworked and tired, too shaky to do his own make-up, so you offer to help. content: 2.1k words, some mild hurt/comfort, established relationship

masterlist – Ao3 link

✦ ✧ ✦ 

A strong gale blew thick and heavy snowflakes against your window all night, leaving a plump white pillow on the sill that’s now covering half of the glass pane. You woke up multiple times as the wind howled in the cracks of the abbey’s old stone walls like a wolf calling to the moon, only ceasing in the early hours of the morning. As you get ready for the day now, the sky has cleared up and the soft glow of a rising sun paints your quarters in warm hues of orange. You lift your hand and let the warm rays of sunshine dance over your fingers.

It’s all quiet at this time of day and you’re sitting on your shared bed, pulling on some warm socks while Copia does his make-up. He’s perched on a wide, upholstered stool in front of the vanity he got when you moved in with him. Anything so he wouldn’t occupy the bathroom all morning, so he can share some more time with you while getting ready. 

The sunlight hits the back of his head, his hair still tousled and sticking up at odd angles. You love observing him as he gets ready. While clumsy at first the process of painting his face has now gone over into muscle memory and watching his nimble fingers get to work each morning is a sight to behold. His brow is always furrowed in concentration, deepening the adorable wrinkles on his forehead as he draws precise black lines onto his features. His lips stay tightly pressed together through the whole process right until he finally has to relaxe them to apply his lipstick. 

It’s the same procedure every single morning.

Well, except for today.

“Ahhhh, cazzo.” 

His sudden curse makes you look up and you catch him furiously scrubbing at his cheek, almost violently wiping away some of his black paint. A blotchy gray rim remains around the red patch of skin he just rubbed raw.

“What is it, my love?” you ask, worried he’s going to seriously hurt himself.

Copia sighs in defeat, setting down the black paint in frustration only to stare at it in mild disgust. You observe him over the mirror but he doesn’t look up at you, a heavy air of sadness hanging over him.

“Ugh… I feel a little shaky today,” he finally says, staring at his trembling hand. “I cannot get it right.”

You’re aware Copia has dealt with a rough few days – sleeping restlessly, feeling unwell from all the stress, skipping meals in order to get more work done. It’s hardly surprising that he’s shaking, already overworked and worn out with another long day looming ahead of him.

You scoot off the bed and make your way over to your exhausted Papa. His eyes find yours in the mirror as you approach, and he makes space for you on the stool. It’s a tight fit but you sit down sideways, facing Copia instead of the mirror.

“What are you doing?” he asks as you take his hands in yours.

“Helping.” You bring them to your mouth, gently kissing each individual knuckle. You can feel his tremor, feel his tension against your lips. He slowly eases up as you continue to kiss him, running your thumbs over the backs of his hands. Copia sighs softly and when you look up, he’s smiling weakly at you and you already know what he’s going to ask next.

“Amore… how do I even deserve you?”

“You deserve all my love, don’t you ever question that.“ You give him a playfully stern look, followed by a pout, and his cheeks turn all rosy. “Now let me do your make-up.” 

“You– you want to–“

“I’ve seen you do it a hundred times. I think I should be capable by now.”

“That’s not…” He swallows, softly shaking his head. “Not what I meant.”

His tone is enough to tell you exactly what he did mean. Do you really want to do this for me? Painting my face, something you’ve never done before, to help me when I feel so vulnerable right now?

“Yes, I want to.” You let go of his hands to reach out for his face, slowly rubbing your thumbs over his cheeks. “My love, I know I cannot shoulder your burdens, I cannot paint my face and be Papa for you, but I can try to give you as much love and support and care as I can. And if that means packing you lunch to make sure you eat, rubbing your back when it’s sore from sitting all day, popping in to help you with paperwork or even doing your make-up because you’re too worked up over the day ahead, I will happily do it.”

His eyes close and he takes a deep breath, smiling as a single tear rolls down his cheek. “I love you,” he whispers. “I love you so much, amore. You are my everything.”

It pains you to see him like this, so bone-tired, so defeated, really. He is your everything too and to admit that you can’t simply make all of this go away hurts. You lean in to kiss away the tear, add a few more kisses to his cheeks for good measure and an especially soft one to his lips. “I love you, too, Copia. More than you can imagine.”

You break away and he opens his eyes, huffing out a slightly embarrassed laugh. “Uhm, yes… so… should we start?”

“Mhm.” You reach for the white paint and decide to fix the spot he had been rubbing raw earlier. The redness is mostly gone but you’re still careful as you apply the face paint with a beauty blender. At first Copia watches you, still with that hint of disbelief in his eyes that you’re actually willing to do this for him, but then he slowly closes them and relaxes into your gentle care. Once his whole face is covered in an even shade of white, you pick up the black paint again. You find a brush and dip it in, trying to get a feeling for how much you need.

“Do you… uh…” Copia looks around, probably searching for his phone. “If you need a picture, for reference…”

“No, I don’t think so.” You chuckle, reaching for his chin to make him look at you. “I’ve been staring at your handsome face so many times, I’m sure I could do it in my sleep. Just relax, amore, I will get it right, I promise.”

“I know you will,” he immediately says, ears turning red at the use of his pet name. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to doubt you, tesoro. It’s just…”

“I know, it’s okay. Just relax, please.” You give him a genuine smile, raising your eyebrows until he finally returns it. Of course it seems a little forced, he’s still anxious, still tired, but it’s better than nothing. He takes a deep breath and finally relaxes his features, allowing you to start with the black paint.

It takes you a while to get his whole face done since you’re trying to be as careful as possible. Admittedly, you’re a little shaky too, but with the help of the brush and working very slowly, you get the lines straight anyway. Copia tries very hard not to flinch or move his face, but he does blink a few times as you draw the lines around his eyes. You’re doing his eyelids when he blinks yet again, the timing unfortunate as his lashes hit the brush and some of the paint gets into his white eye. He hisses and tears up immediately, squinting hard in pain.

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry,” you mumble, pulling away as fast as you can.

He raises a hand to your arm, the hurt eye still tightly screwed up. “Don’t, please, it happens.” 

Copia hands you a tissue and you gently dab at the tears before they mess up the rest of his make-up, waiting until his eye stops leaking. An agonising minute later he manages to keep it open, the white iris surrounded by a now very red sclera. It looks worse than it probably is but it still scares you and you take a few deep breaths before you decide to continue with your finger instead of the offending brush.

“Is it okay now?” you ask.

“It is. Thank you,” Copia whispers. “You’re doing so well, amorino. Don’t worry about it.”

You smile at his praise, though you’re not sure if he’s being quite truthful about the pain. Nevertheless, you apply the rest of the paint, even more cautiously now, until it’s almost done and only the lips are left.

It’s not the first time you see his whole face covered in make-up with only his lips bare, it’s basically a slightly cleaner version of what he looks like after a good make-out session – once all of his lipstick has transferred to your face. And he does have very beautiful lips, so plump and pink and practically begging to be kissed. They always feel so soft against yours and when he’s gentle–

Copia must see you staring at them because his fingers find your chin, slowly lifting your gaze until your eyes meet and he smirks. “Are you distracted, tesorino?”

You fight a smile. “What if I am, Papa? Are you going to fire me?”

“Oh, I could never do this, no.” He smirks knowingly. “Your Papa enjoys having all of your attention way too much, amore.”

That’s enough to make you close the gap and finally kiss him. He smiles into it and before you can pull away, his hands find your cheeks, keeping you exactly where you are. His fingers gently move into your hair, tilting your head up before he deepens the kiss. You sink against him with a sigh, hoping this won’t do too much damage to his paint. But that thought is forgotten as soon you feel his teeth grazing your bottom lip, asking for more. You let him kiss you breathless as you taste the remnants of minty toothpaste on his tongue and it’s enough to make you crave him so badly. But he’s tired enough already, you can feel him losing his energy as the kiss gets more sluggish and he takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“Promise me to take it easy today,” you whisper against his mouth. “I’m so worried about you, Copia.”

He lets out a sigh, the exhale ghosting over your tender lips before he whispers back. “Ti voglio tanto bene. For you I promise anything, anything. I try my best to get home early tonight, sì? We can continue this without hurry.”

“Yes, please.” You smile, running your thumb along his jawline. “And I love you too. Don’t you ever forget that.”

“How could I? Whenever I look in a mirror today I will be reminded, eh?” He presses a wet kiss to your cheek before he pulls away. “Now, I think I’m already late.”

He’s right, you’ve taken way too long. So, you reach for the black lipstick and carefully follow the curves of his still kiss-swollen mouth, trying to ignore the tingling sensation in your belly. You blot his lips with a tissue after you’re done and fix some of the white paint your kiss messed up again. Once you’re done, he looks just like always. The only difference is the warm, affectionate smile that now graces his features, the twinkle in his eyes that belongs to you and only you.

“Thank you, amore,” he says, inspecting himself in the mirror. “È veramente perfetto. You did so well. I want to kiss you again so bad, but I would ruin it.”

Instead, he blows you a bunch of kisses and you giggle as you pretend to catch them. Copia gives you the first enthusiastic smile you’ve seen on him all day and it doesn’t leave his face as he combs his hair back, smoothes out his black dress shirt and tugs at the sleeves.

Then he suddenly jumps up, raising his hands. “Tada!” He does a little spin, almost stumbling over the leg of the stool. “How do I look, eh? Tell your Papa what you think. Be honest.” 

“You look bellissimo!” you say, clapping your hands as you grin at him. “The most handsome Papa to ever grace these halls.”

“Ha! And it’s all thanks to my very talented amore. I am so lucky, molto molto fortunato!”

You stand up as well, let him pull you into a tight embrace. He’s solid and his arms feel strong as they squeeze you to his body. He’s not quite recovered, and you know it will take more time, will take you a lot of convincing to get Sister to reduce his workload, but you can tell he’s feeling better for now.

And that’s what truly matters.

thanks for reading :) if you want more comfort fics check out this fic, this fic or this fic hehe ♡

[moonbeamwritings]

bathed in moonlight

wc: ~3.3k

pairing: johnny joestar x fem!reader

warnings: nudity, nonsexual intimacy (bathing together), fem!reader pretending to be a man for the steel ball run

Your life is simple. Quiet. You work on your family’s farm, the only child to two loving parents. You take on a lot, both emotionally and physically, familial burdens becoming your own to bear as soon as you could help on the property. 

The burden gets heavier the winter before the Steel Ball Run. Your back bows and threatens to crack and splinter when your mother falls ill and the responsibility of both mother and daughter comes to rest on your shoulders. You tend to the animals when you can, clean the house, cook the food. All the while, your aunt and uncle who have come to stay in the wake of your mother’s illness to care for her and assist you and your father, talk in hushed tones, blaming you for your family’s misfortune. You’re not doing enough. Well, maybe if they had a son or more money things would be different.

Your father can only tell them off so many times before their words start to seep through your skin, covering your bones in a dark, cloudy haze. You take on more responsibility, eager to prove yourself. To do something.

Months later, a newspaper you find in the corner store changes everything. A horse race with a generous cash prize is set to be held in September — The Steel Ball Run. Your father taught you to ride when you were just a kid. Hours of your youth spent in the warm summer sun working with your horse before your mother rang the dinner bell. You know it won’t be easy, but you know you have to try, even if your family won’t approve.

You spend the next few weeks hoarding supplies, stuffing them into closets and hiding them in the stables, chipping away at all of the things you’ll need, and on the night you plan to leave you press a kiss to your parents’ cheeks, and go to bed, heart turning to lead in your chest.

That night, when the moon is high, and the house has fallen silent, you pull your father’s clothes from beneath your bed — an old pair of pants with a rip in the knee, a loose button up shirt, and an old cowboy hat — and tiptoe down the rickety wooden stairs, careful to avoid the creaky boards along the way, and disappear into the night.

As you ride, the wind whipping in your hair, and the moon casting shadows over the landscape, you assume a new identity, one of a man on the hunt for a new beginning. You’re sure you won’t be the only one, and you’ll be able to slip right through the cracks. And though you’re leaving your home behind, everything you’ve known growing more minuscule with each beat of your horse’s hooves, you feel hopeful — like a grand adventure is waiting just beyond the horizon.

The moment you meet Johnny Joestar and Gyro Zeppeli is the moment your life becomes infinitely more complicated. They’re nice, friendly despite Gyro’s initial intention to kill you for so much as looking at him. But hey, all budding friendships have their hiccups, right? You travel with them and find safety in their numbers, though getting wrapped up in their scheme to find the parts of a mysterious corpse wasn’t exactly high on your to-do list.

The only times you ever hesitate, the only times you ever find your voice losing the confident vibrato of the man you’re masquerading as is when it’s time to bathe. At inns, tucked neatly along the streets at each checkpoint, it’s easy. Harmless. You can sneak away and conceal your true form behind closed doors and shower curtains. But with the sky overhead and a babbling brook acting as your only chance at freshening up, your fingers wring the soft fabric of your bandana.

You weave intricate excuses, using a different one each time, hoping, praying the boys don’t catch on.

“Oh, I was going to eat first.”

“Someone needs to collect the firewood.”

“I’m just not used to bathing around other people yet.”

And the first few times it works, Gyro doesn’t think a thing of it, looking at Johnny as he dunks his head beneath the water, and raising his shoulders to shrug. “Eh, some guys just have their things, ya know?”

Johnny nods reluctantly, but feels there’s something else going on. Something you’re not telling them. He knows you’re not an enemy stand user, you’re not out to get them or kill them in their sleep. He’s certain you would’ve done it by now if that was your true intention, but there’s something else.

He ends up discovering your secret entirely by accident. 

Sure he’s suspicious of what you’re hiding, and sure he wants to get to the bottom of it, but he’s not a creep. Honest. He didn’t mean to walk in on you just as you were pulling your night shirt down over your head, curves and smooth skin on display. As his entire face burns, he’s at least thankful all he saw was your back.

You whip around at the sound of his strangled gasp, and your face ignites. At the same time, you both frantically mumble, “Oh my god.”

You’re speaking over each other as you race to kick your door shut, pulling Johnny into your room with a harsh tug.

“‘M really sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in! Yer door was open and I just thought-”

“How much did you see? How long have you been here? Do not tell Gyro or I will-”

Words and questions rush from your mouths like waterfalls, only stopping when you finally huff, running a weary hand through your hair. “It’s fine,” you start, only to repeat yourself when Johnny opens his mouth. “It’s fine. Just please, Johnny. Don’t tell Gyro.”

The desperate plea in your voice pulls the strings of his heart taut, and he’d do anything you ask if it meant he’d never have to hear that broken, aching sound again. His brows crease, and his face softens. “I won’t.” And as the clock behind you ticks to fill the silence, he adds, “I promise.”

In the days that follow, you hold your breath, waiting for the pin to drop, for the dynamics to finally shift. But that shift never comes. Johnny keeps your secret to himself, treating you just as he always did. Gratitude blooms in your chest, and you find yourself smiling whenever Johnny does, fixing him with a honeyed expression, like you’re seeing him in a new light.

You sit nearly shoulder to shoulder by campfire light, you eat meals at the same time, and when Gyro isn’t babbling away, the two of you make quiet conversation to fill the silence. It’s nice, feeling like you can finally ease the ache in your shoulders. The burden has shifted, if only just slightly, and you’re grateful to Johnny for taking on some of its weight.

“Wanna set up here?” Johnny asks, bringing Slow Dancer to a stop at a quiet clearing. The grassy patch is a ways off the path, concealed by trees and dotted with flowers. You hear the dull babbling of a river just down the hill. An oasis. “I think we should rest sooner than later now that the sun is starting to set.”

The ache in your back shoots up your spin and you roll your shoulders. “Yes please. I don’t think I have anything else in me.”

You all dismount and begin spreading out, setting up tents and crafting a little circle of rocks for a small fire. And as you chuck your bag to the ground, Gyro approaches you with a proposition.

“I’m gonna bathe now, I’ll make dinner once I get out if you find the firewood.”

“You’ve got a deal.”

He ruffles your hair, before shooting Johnny a look. “You comin’?”

Johnny's gaze flickers between you and Gyro for a moment, pensive, before he replies, “I’ll take a dip later, wanna rest for a minute.”

Gyro holds up his hands and sets a towel over his shoulder. “Suit yourself.”

“Do ya need help with the wood?”

“No, I think I got it, Johnny. Thank you.”

By the time you come back, bundles of sticks in your hands, Gyro’s already setting up a pot to boil water, wet hair clinging to the back of his night shirt. When you drop the pile, he grins at you appreciatively. “Thanks.”

With Gyro’s attention elsewhere, you and Johnny sneak off down the hill, excited to have your own time in the river.

You perch your things on a rock before hesitantly locking eyes with Johnny. He knows your secret, and with the sun setting, he probably won’t be able to make much out anyway. Yet you feel bare, vulnerable even now, fully clothed.

As if sensing your trepidation, Johnny pulls his hat off. “I’ll, uh, I’ll go first.”

You turn your back and let Johnny strip and get in, and once he gives you the all clear, you fiddle with one of the buttons on your shirt. “Just-... Just don’t look.”

You slowly unbutton your shirt, and Johnny shuts his eyes, the cool water of the river already kneading the ache from his joints. “I won’t.”

“I don’t want a repeat of last time.” A flutter, and a soft thud follow. Johnny figures you must have lost your shirt and your hat. He doesn’t dare peek.

“It was an accident.”

“It’s the principle of the thing.”

The smile that forms on Johnny’s face is lazy, teasing. “Alright, alright.”

Johnny hears you hiss. “Shit, it’s cold.” You dip into the water until only from your shoulders up remains above its surface. “You can open up.”

He almost wishes he hadn’t opened them at all. You have a bar of soap in hand, your hair clinging to the back of your neck with water. His eyes trace along the smooth curve of your neck, watching as the delicate lines kiss your collarbones and shoulders. The setting sun catches the water droplets that cling to your skin, bathing you in tiny flecks of pink and orange. Your body glitters like a jewel as you rinse away the grime and sweat from a long day of traveling. You’re so beautiful Johnny fears he may never be the same.

In that moment, he understands artists and their muses. He understands why someone would painstakingly mix colors and stare, memorizing features and curves and lines. He understands how love inspires art.

And he wants to die when you smile, this tiny sheepish thing that Johnny thinks stops his heart in his chest. You duck beneath the water’s surface until it reaches your chin. “My eyes are up here, ya know.”

Pushing a hand in his direction, you send a gentle spray of water barreling towards his face, and it's then that Johnny decides he needs to get his mind out of the gutter; shifting focus to start washing his hair.

With his back to you, you can admire the strong muscles you find there. His pretty blond waves are darkened by water and slicked back away from his forehead. They brush along his shoulders and bring your attention to the pale skin of his shoulders, inhabited by tiny freckles, constellations trapped right on his skin. You wonder if you’ll ever get close enough to connect the dots, to find patterns in the speckled curves of his shoulders. You want to give names to those tiny stars, to kiss them.

“What-“ Johnny looks like a deer in headlights as he emerges from the water, fresh from dunking his head to wash away the shampoo. “What’re you looking at?”

The shimmer of the water, deep blue tones mixing with the same oranges and pinks that paint your skin, catch the light blue of his eyes, and you feel like you could drown in them. Johnny in the light of that setting sun, eyes sparkling, hair shimmering like precious, golden threads, is a sight you wish to burn into your memory, to covet.

Now it’s your turn to feel caught red handed, vulnerability prickling your bare skin. You speak without thinking. “You’re so…” You struggle to identify the right word, and when you can’t conjure one, you hope that what you do find will be enough to articulate what you’re thinking. “You’re so pretty, Johnny.”

And despite the silence that follows, and the awkward tension that hangs, thick and heavy, in the air, Johnny can’t bring himself to refute you. If he didn’t know you better, he’d wave a hand, tell you you’re full of shit or that you’re just trying to butter him up, but he does know better; and it’s that exact thought that sends his heart racing back to life. It’s a compliment he’ll only accept from you — an angel amongst men. And Johnny’s certain that angels can’t lie.

You watch as his wet cheeks flush, eyes downcast as you catch the tiniest ghost of a smile on his lips. His response is quiet, bashful, and it makes you want to hide your smile beneath the surface of the water. “Thanks.”

Any walls that remained between you have been reduced to rubble, and as the moon begins to peek over the trees, you feel comfortable, more relaxed now that the daylight has made way for night. You fall into murmured conversation and the warm hues of the sun morph into the silver beams of the moon, floating together with your skin feeling refreshed and bodies feeling slack. Your hand brushes over Johnny’s beneath the cool surface of the river.

When the conversation lulls, Johnny worries his lip between his teeth, his brows furrowing.

“What?” You ask, tilting your head and squinting at him in the moonlight. “What is it?”

Johnny looks at you for a long moment. He’s nervous. He runs through a list of things he could say, but even now, with your hand in his and your shoulder brushing against his own, he can’t form the words in his throat.

You’re so pretty it hurts. My heart is hammering against my ribs so fiercely, I’m afraid it’ll burst right out of my chest. If you keep touching me, looking at me like that, I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself anymore. You’ve ignited a fire in my belly that I’ll never be able to extinguish.

He opens his mouth to respond, but is cut off by rapidly approaching footsteps.

Johnny hisses. “It’s Gyro.”

You have to act, and you have to act now. Either you arouse suspicion and stay put, jeopardizing your precious secret, or you hide - somewhere, somehow, and leave Johnny to fill in the gaps. Deciding on the latter, you scramble up to the bank of the river and practically throw yourself behind a bush, praying you’re out of sight of both Johnny and Gyro. You don’t think you can stomach the blow to your ego being caught naked, and now covered in mud (again), would deal.

“Hey, you need help getting out?” Gyro asks when he approaches the edge of the water. “You’ve been down here awhile.

It’s only then that Johnny notices the way his fingertips have started to prune. “Oh, no.” He rushes to answer, “‘m fine. Just got lost thinkin’ about stuff.”

Gyro’s only half listening, gaze fixated on a pile of clothes amongst the rocks. Your clothes. Johnny’s chest tightens.

“What’s this doing here?” Pressing further, Gyro asks if you finally manned up and joined Johnny to bathe. Johnny catches sight of your soaps, sitting just out of eye-line on a rock behind some thickets, and some of the tension eases from his shoulders — less to explain away.

“Oh, he came down and… went around the bend that way,” Johnny nods his head towards the left. “Wanted some privacy, I think.”

You’re shivering from your spot in the bush, branches poking your ribs and leaves getting trapped in your hair. So much for getting cleaned up. 

“You’re a shit liar, Johnny.”

It’s almost like a horror novel, the way your body stills, the way your breath catches in your throat. Shit shit shit. Your heart races, and you worry that somehow Gyro will hear it.

“Wha-”

“You don’t have to play coy with me Johnny, I can see it plain as day.”

Johnny has never wanted to curl up and die so badly in his life. Gyro had figured out your secret all on his own, and is content to rub it in Johnny’s face. Torture him with it.

“You finally told him you like him… I gotta hand it to you, I never thought you’d have it in you.”

Johnny stands corrected.

“What’re you-? Gyro that’s not-” Johnny can't even form a coherent sentence under Gyro’s smug gaze, and knowing you’re sitting behind that bush, listening to this shit only serves to add fire to the warmth pooling in his cheeks, boiling up to the tips of his ears.

You have to bring a hand up to cover your mouth.

Gyro clicks his tongue with a wag of his finger, head shaking and ruffling his dirty blond hair. “You don’t have to explain it to me. Trust me, I get it. Our lil riding partner’s pretty easy on the eyes. If you ever need some time alone, I can make myself scarce, ya know? Collect some firewood, maybe hunt a little or something. However long you need.”

Johnny can hear the smirk in Gyro’s tone more than see it in the dark of the evening. He struggles to collect himself. “It’s not like that.”

“Mm,” Gyro hums, “sure it’s not.” He raises his voice a little, ensuring that you both can hear what comes next, “In any case, food’s done whenever you two lovebirds are ready to eat.”

Johnny’s face burns as he watches Gyro disappear back to camp and out of sight, and just as he brings his gaze back towards the smooth surface of the water, you’re climbing back in. He catches an unfiltered glimpse at your curves, the expanse of your legs, the plush of your hips. His eyes squeeze shut and he feels like he’s suffering from acute heat stroke. Johnny knows the visage of your body, sinking into the water, bathed in moonlight that clings to your skin like a silver gown, will haunt his dreams until the end of time. Aphrodite has been plucked from her throne amongst the Gods and dropped right in the lap of some disgraced jockey from Kentucky.

He can’t possibly face you now can he? He’s not prepared to meet a goddess.

“I-” You look up at Johnny through your lashes, water clinging to them from your journey back into the river. You seem almost bashful, shy. Johnny’s heart skips a beat.

“He’s an idiot.” Is all Johnny can bring himself to tell you.

You giggle, and Johnny thinks it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. “He is.”

A quiet moment passes before you’re back where you started, hand closing over his own as you settle before him, backlit by the full light of the moon. “I meant what I said earlier.”

With the way you carefully examine the slope of his nose, the way your gaze flickers from his eyes to his lips and back again with a look Johnny can only describe as reverence, the man has no choice. He believes you, just as he had before. He captures your cheek in his palm, as if doing so will stop you from returning to the heavens, disappearing before his eyes.

Johnny brings you closer, lips ghosting over yours. “I know.”

[yourlocaltreesimp]

A piece of home

more SR!Link content. Based on the drawing from @trippygalaxy

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Admittedly, Link was swooning. It was a poorly kept secret that anyone with a pair of eyes could see, even those who’d long since passed. All save for you. He’d look at you like you were the only good thing to grace this earth and wrote about you like the poets write of the sun. You gave him life, nourished him and brought him out of dark days. And even then, just as the sun’s light reflects off the moon to help travelers, you guide him through his dark days. He’d grown quite used to showering you with his small affections, knowing you had no idea there was more behind each intertwined finger. He’d grown used to your look of awe when he presented you with a gift, and the exact words you’d say when he completed a small favour for you. The hems of your clothes stitched and embroidered, your weapons sharpened and polished, restocking on medical supplies, the list went on. He’d grown so used to you —your habits— that he knew you better than most people knew their own spouses. But you subverted his expectations, by even taking this trip with him but you kept on doing it.

Earlier, while you were in battle, the chain holding on your cherished ring snapped. You were utterly heartbroken when you couldn’t find it amidst the bloody mud. With some dinner, extra blankets and gentle comforting, you managed to sleep. And so, he stood, rolled up his sleeves, and proceeded to spend the guts of two hours searching for the ring. It was muddy of course, the dirt caked into the grooves of the ring, covering its lustrous shine. But with a cleverly disguised trio to the jeweller to get a new, stronger chain and enough time polishing, the ring was in pristine condition. He made his way back to your small camp with a warmth in his heart that he’d long since decided was for you and you only.

“Hey Link- You look worn, are you alright?” Your eyebrows furrowed slightly in concern, lips pursing.

“I’m alright, Just a little tired, that’s all.” Of course he was tired, he’d spent hours on his hands and knees searching for a ring embedded in mud, ran around looking for a new chain and polished the two of them.

“Don’t worry, I've got some dinner cooking, you can go take a nap and I'll get you when it’s ready” Goddess high above, this is why he loved you. This is why he endured endless teasing by his predecessors. You were endlessly considerate and gentle in a world that felt so unfamiliar. He’d grown up in Hyrule all his life and yet it feels so foreign. He feels bad that you followed him headfirst into destiny, but the warmth of something he knows beats out any guilt.

“Actually, I have something for you” He could hardly contain the smile from working its way into his face.

“Oh?” He presented you with a tiny box, the ring perfectly polished and illuminated by the fire, looped through a sturdy chain of matching metal. You were left without words, cradling the gift as if he’d handed you a star out of the sky. “How did you?-“

“I went back to look for it” He knew what it meant to you, the small sliver of home you carried with you, and he knew what he meant to lose it. Your eyes were lined with silver tears, arms wrapping around his torso tightly. You pulled back and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, long and yearning. He thought he knew you well enough to guess your reaction, but you were throwing his heart for a loop. You touched your forehead to his and looked bashfully through your lashes. “Thank you, Link”

And suddenly, he was nowhere near as tired

[footprintsinthesxnd]

CONGRATS ON 1.5K JESS!!! 🥳🥳 i'm literally obsessed with the moodboard + drabble you did for eugene and violet....could we get josephine/nixon plus "It's okay. I couldn't sleep anyway" ?? moodboard or fic, whatever you're feeling :) <33

Thank you so much for your ask lovely. It’s been so long since I made anything for Josie and Lewis so this one was a real treat.

The night was still and quiet when Josie crept from her bed, making her way over to the small window in the hallway. She peaked through the tapped up panes, wishing she could have a clearer view of the nights sky. The moon shone brightly over the sleepy town of Aldbourne tonight. There was no movement outside meaning the streets were unusually quiet, not even one drunken paratrooper returning to his billet.

Tomorrow was supposed to be one of the happiest days of her life, and she truly couldn’t wait to become Mrs Nixon, but something kept her awake. It was a gnawing feeling in her stomach that just wouldn’t settle, and the more she thought about different scenarios of everything going wrong, the worse the feeling grew. Would Lewis really be at the alter tomorrow or would he have second thoughts? That was the worry that currently occupied her mind. Of course her friends had assured her that wouldn’t be the case, and Dick and Eugene were under strict instructions to have him at the church on time.

Josie sighed loudly, jumping at the light chuckle that came from behind her. She whipped around, tugging her dressing gown over herself quickly as she came face to face with the finger leaning against the door frame.

“Lewis, you scared me!” She scolded, raising her hand to her chest, feeling her heart beating rapidly from the sudden shock.

He smirked at her, sauntering over and placing his hands on her shoulders, “Sorry Josie,” he mumbled, placing a kiss to her cheek. “Can’t sleep?”

“No,” she shrugged sadly, “I have too much to think about.”

“Not having second thoughts I hope,” he laughed, but Josie could see the concern floating in his brown eyes, the soft crinkle on his forehead making her smile.

“Not at all. I just… well I’m just worried that everything won’t go to plan,” she admitted, biting her lip sheepishly. “I keep worrying that you’ll change your mind”.

Lewis smiled, brushing the loose strands of dark hair away from her face. “I could never change my mind, Josie. I love you and I can’t wait to marry you.”

He bent down to kiss her, savouring the soft feeling of her lips against his until she pulled away.

“You haven’t had a drink?” She asked, it felt strange to not have the familiar taste of VAT-69 on her lips after kissing Lewis.

“Not a drop, I want to make sure I was up bright and early in the morning ready for our big day. Thought I might even surprise Dick and get up before he does,” he chuckled, “Although that’s probably why I can’t fall asleep.”

Josie smiled up at him, cupping his stubbly cheek in her small hand, “It's okay. I couldn't sleep anyway either,” she assured him, pressing her lips to his once more. “And I don’t mind spending some quiet time together before the chaos of tomorrow.”

Lewis hummed in appreciation, wrapping his arms around her smaller frame and turning her so they could both face the window, looking out into the night. The sun would soon beginto rise over the tree line, bringing forth a new day, the biggest day of Josie’s life and she couldn’t wait. But in the cover of darkness she could relish in the comforting feeling of Lewis’ arms, his breath tickling her ear as he promised her that everything would be alright.

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