#both on here and DAR

[gutsby]

dark!Joel explaining to you how reader-proofed the bunker, because you're his now and he's never ever letting you go.

BESTIE THEY’RE GONNA LOCK US UP FOR THIS 😭😭

Just like Joel LOL okay here we gooooooo…

Confines

Dark!Joel x Dark!Reader

TW: NONCON, Stockholm Syndrome (not the 1D song). Unprotected p-in-v. Bondage. Blindfolding. Dacryphilia. Daddy kink. Choking. Somno. Slapping. Possessiveness.

Good morning kisses from Joel Miller rarely landed anywhere but your cervix. The head of his cock had a funny way of mimicking lips with a tap tap tap at the back of your cunt, like a lover leaving a trail of gentle pecks across your cheeks to rouse you out of your sleep. However, this was no kiss at all, and Joel was no lover. Most times, the man barely seemed to tolerate you at all.

Which was why you’d grown accustomed to the nudge of his cock between your soft, wet, and sensitive walls first thing in the morning, every morning, no matter how often you’d told him you didn’t want to do it like that.

This time, when you blinked to find the outline of his face in the morning’s first light, you were met with a blindfold. When you lifted your hands to steady yourself against the bed, the floor, his chest, just anything to keep you tethered, you felt a pinch at both wrists. They were pinned to the headboard above you, hanging limply as Joel’s thrusts sent the metal frame clanging to the wall.

A warm, stubbled mouth found the side of your face. Just as you flinched, it let out a breathy chuckle,

“Mornin’ dar—”

“Take it off.”

You surprised yourself with how fast the words came. Most times it would have taken a minute or more to regain your bearings after being woken up by Joel’s cock.

The bandana around your eyes just freaked you out. The rope fastenings, too, sent a shockwave of fear straight through to your heart. Your ankles—free, fortunately—kicked around at Joel’s feet in protest as his hips shook and snapped against yours, splitting you open to him.

The lips that rested above your cheek pressed a kiss to it. A real one, this time.

You almost wished it’d been a slap instead. You turned your face away and started to say, ‘Joel’ in vehement disgust, when the mouth left another kiss. Then another.

“Got a surprise for ya, baby—”

And another.

“—just hold still, alright?”

What meager amount of food you’d been able to keep down in the time you’d spent with this psychopath seemed to sour in your stomach at his words. There he was kissing you, holding you, fucking you into the bed against your will, all while speaking so cloyingly sweet.

“Just get it over with,” you seethed, fighting back the upsurge of bile as you spoke through your teeth.

Much to your dismay, the man kept peppering kisses along your jaw as he took you like that kind lover might. Then he made his way up to your lips and claimed them, too, and in between bites of, ‘Fuck off’ from you and ‘Feel so good’ from him, he managed to kiss you. Deep.

His lower half continued to stutter against your own in gentle, shallow thrusts, and with every brush of his cock inside you, your body became a traitor to your mind.

“Fuck y— ah,” you finished in a whimper when the head of him grazed a particularly sensitive ridge. Joel grinned.

“Alright?”

Is it alright I’m fucking you now? Is this okay?

“No,” you snapped at the silent query, shaking your head.

And, at a time when a less patient Joel might’ve slapped you across the face for rejecting his advances, this Joel just pulled you closer. Loosened the restraints around your wrists until your hands dropped to either side of you and finally hoisted you up to sit in his lap, straddling him.

That sweet spot inside you was practically punctured by his cock at this new angle; you let out a soft whine into Joel’s shoulder, and he started stroking your hair.

“I know, I know,” he murmured softly.

But he didn’t. He didn’t.

You clenched your jaw to suppress another sound.

“What…surprise?” you finally choked instead of moaned.

At that, Joel seized your hips firmly in his hands and started working your body in circles against him. Every time you tried to jump up in protest—and pleasure—he’d slam you back down on his cock and keep at it, adamant.

Still soft as he spoke to you: “Guess.”

You were slightly ashamed you had to bite his shoulder to keep from moaning again. But damn, he felt nice.

“You’re letting me go.”

“Correct.”

“Huh?”

You would’ve bit him again had he not pulled you into his chest and sank his member even deeper between your walls. You felt instantly suffocated and filled to the brim, but you couldn’t deny the spark of joy that came to flicker at the pit of your stomach. He was letting you go?

“I mean it, baby. Won’t keep ya tied up no more.” Joel was panting into your hair as his hips started working a feverish pace against you. It was all you could do to hold tight and keep your moans contained; he was drawing your pleasure out with every graceless, desperate stab.

“R-Really?”

As if to answer, wordlessly, Joel tugged at your blindfold.

At first it barely loosened far enough to uncover your eyes, then it inched down your cheeks, painstakingly slow, then it dropped to your collarbone. You were still blinking through tiny, modulating pinpricks of light and an obscure haze when you felt him squeeze the fabric.

The red bandana hung loose around your neck now, but Joel kept a grip on the material as your vision adjusted.

When you blinked twice more, you understood why.

“Where are we?!”

But a very pussydrunk Joel Miller was busy using your body like a bona fide fleshlight. Working you up and down his cock in short, vicious strokes, grunting into your neck, sinking his fingers into your flesh just deep enough to wring a couple pained whimpers out from your lips. You were still straddling his hips, staring over his shoulder as he fucked you with reckless abandon.

“What…is this…place?” Your voice curtailed to a breath.

“Home,” Joel answered.

Home. You had to believe he was kidding.

Surely no person in their right mind could confine you to a windowless, subterranean bunker and call that home.

Then you remembered this man was fucking insane.

Your gaze surveyed the full length of the room by turns. In total, it couldn’t have been wider than four or five of the beds you were sitting on, placed side-by-side, and the walls were slate grey. Concrete boxed you in from all angles. A single, bare bulb hung from a chain overhead, and in its glow, you saw a whole hell of a lot of nothing.

Nothing but dust bunnies and dismal, hellish desolation. Nothing but a stripped-down bed and Joel, still fucking you on it. Nothing by way of a door, even, save for what appeared to be some small wooden panel in the ceiling.

In short, it was solitary confinement as soon as Joel left. Prison for you, and pure, unadulterated control for him.

You pressed your palms to either one of his shoulders and tried to lift yourself off him, but the gesture was fruitless. Joel already had an ironclad grip on your shoulder and was anchoring you to his frame as he fucked you. All you could do was sit there and be bounced up and down on his shaft and stare, unflinchingly, at the space there before you.

“You said…said you were letting me go.”

Against your will, tears were welling up.

Joel just stroked your shoulder, then the rest of your back. Then he hummed as if acknowledging something.

“I am,” he insisted, “You’re free, darlin’.”

Before you could object, he continued,

“Free to use this place however you please.”

“W-W-What the fuck is it, even?! Huh?”

You hated how high-pitched your voice had gotten as the realization began to settle over you. This was home. This was freedom. This was life for you, now, in a makeshift bunker beneath your captor’s home. A nightmare.

Joel seemed to resent the tone of your voice, too. Securing a tighter grip, he slammed his cock straight down to the hilt, and for a second, you saw his mask slip.

“This ain’t good enough?” he growled.

The head of his cock carved an angry, erratic shape in your cunt as he thrusted into you at an even wilder pace. You bounced and groaned and hated yourself for whining into each stroke with a welt of pleasure.

“I wanna go home,” you whimpered, at war with yourself.

You’d never felt so aroused and terrified at once, and you could no longer swallow the sounds that were clawing their way up your throat. When Joel yanked you backward to get a closer look at your face, you felt weak.

“You don’t like this?” He made a point to punctuate ‘like’ with a particularly merciless thrust—one that grazed your g-spot and nearly sent stars flying before your eyes.

“Home,” you just keened again, feeling pathetic.

Suddenly, you were flipped to your front on hands and knees. Joel was taking you from behind in no time at all, cock stretching you out in a series of violent pumps.

“This is home,” he spat, “This is your home. Forever.”

Next, the friction from his cock felt like it could’ve started a fire with how fast he was fucking you. Ruthless, reckless, pitiless, and above all else, punishing you for not accepting his gift with open arms. Just when you feared he might yank on your hair, Joel reached for the bandana around your throat instead and hoisted you up to him like the fabric was a leash. You coughed at once.

“Joel!”

“What? This hurt?”

‘Yes’ was barely able to make it past your windpipe with how tight he was twisting the bandana around your neck. He pulled your back flush to his chest and made a point to ignore your breathless, half-spluttered cries as he tongued a wet stripe up the side of your face.

You didn’t realize it then, but he was licking your tears.

“Keep cryin’. Only makes me harder,” he said in your ear.

If you weren’t presently fighting for the ability to breathe, his statement might’ve sent a chill through your body. But as it was, your lungs were waging the battle of a lifetime, and your cunt wasn’t that much better off.

The pleasure continued to build.

You didn’t want it to. Didn’t want him to be the cause.

But it did, and he was. When you clenched around Joel, you heard what sounded like a laugh, then felt three thick fingers slide down to stretch your folds apart.

“‘S’my good little fuckhole,” he sneered. Then, working circles and feeling you buckle under his touch, “Can’t breathe, but she needs to cum on daddy’s cock, huh?”

Something pulsed inside you, and you sensed that it was Joel’s cock twitching within your walls—gloating with that filthy little tidbit between his teeth as he fucked you and drew more strangled moans than he could count. Against every cry in your brain and what remained of your better judgment, you lowered your hand to grip Joel’s forearm. Instead of trying to pry him off, you pushed him in and, for the first time, nodded your head.

“Yes, daddy,” you hissed. Half-breathing.

Joel’s grip tightened on the bandana, and his digits rubbed in even quicker circuits. His cock continued to plunge in and out of you, squelching loud in your ears.

Just when the first shameful crest of your climax began to rise, you were thrust back onto the bed, face-first.

Joel followed you in one fluid, forceful motion and was at the side of your head in an instant, panting in your ear. Still pounding you from behind, but now in prone bone—taking on all the quality and vigor of a wild beast as he fucked you into the mattress and draped his whole body overtop yours. You were splayed out and defenseless, but, importantly, not fighting against him for once. That zeppelin-esque swell of pleasure had blossomed to the size of half your body, it seemed, and right now, all that was left to your mind was finding release on Joel’s cock.

And home.

Home, home, home—almost hell on earth—but home.

Joel grinned, and his eyes searched yours from beside you. You stared right back and met with a bottomless pit.

Then his hips dug into yours once more, driving deeper than he’d been all night, and those two sets of empty, lifeless eyes peering into one another pinched inward with pleasure. You both reached your peak, and your bodies moved in sync, and then spasmed some, writhed a bit, and Joel fisted the hair at the back of your head in some senseless, desperate plea and just kissed you.

You didn’t fight back.

This was home.

For now.

For anyone (no one) who was curious to see my creative process in bringing this dumbass story to life:

[cultofdixon]

Stress is a silent killer

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Don’t get me wrong, mothers are strong motherfuckers. But that doesn’t mean you can abuse an expecting mother’s abilities. • ANGST/SFW • TW: Pregnancy / Pre-Term Labor Anxieties / Anxiety

Requested by: Anon

Daryl silently returns his home he shares with Y/N who was currently seated in the living room wide awake. She was decked out to go outside the walls and search for him after the news but thankfully he came back in time before she risked herself at the hour it was.

“I’m sorry”

Y/N didn’t say anything, all she did was let the tears that build up roll off her cheeks.

“I’m sorry I walked away when yea first told me” His voice broke as he brought himself to kneel in front of her resting his hands on her thighs watching her tearful expression meet his gaze.

“I’m scared, Dar…”

“I know, me too. Cuz I want this. I want this with yea and I’m afraid of losing you…like Lori…or like…the others. I can’t lose yea to anythin’ or anyone.”

“You can’t…you can’t walk out like the way you did” She choked out through her sobbing as Daryl brought his hands onto her cheeks wiping away them while they fell. “Please…if you do that again, I’m only going to think the worse possible things”

“I’m stayin’ right here, sunshine. I’m never leaving again.” Daryl pushed himself forward and wrapping his arms around her as she did the same gripping onto his vest. “I’m never leaving you and this baby, I promise”

~

7 1/2 months later…

Another cold spring morning comes through causing the somewhat irritable not-a-morning person Y/N to bring herself to sit up the best she could given her “natural” circumference was different compared to the first and second trimester.

“Did you leave the window open?” She tiredly asks her husband who had sat up when she did, given the closer they get to 9 months the more he’ll be up and at it for anything.

“It was stuffy last night, yea asked me too” Daryl yawns stretching out his back hearing his partner hiss when she heard the occasional stretch out crack. “I’m good”

“Working on the wall repair does you no good…and I think I just forgot I asked you to open it” Y/N frowns bringing herself to the edge of the bed causing Daryl to get up in his shirtless glory about to close the window. “What are you doing?”

“I told yea you don’t have to get up and close it”

“I gotta get up and pee cuz a certain someone is stepping on my bladder.”

“So is that a no on me closing it for yea, love?”

“Can you please close it and help me stand up?” Y/N gave him a tired smile as he did exactly what was asked and while Daryl helped her up she couldn’t help but grab his face to bring him to her level to kiss him before separating to do what she needed.

“Are you sure you don’t need me or want me this morning? Rick completely understands why I can stay here” Daryl started to remind Y/N about the run he was asked to go on that involved stopping at the Hilltop to drop off supplies and go pick up more from the Kingdom.

“You pawned it off to somebody for the past two weeks. I’m not going to go into labor the second you leave. I’m not 8 months yet”

“Pre-term shit. You were put on bedrest during the second tri—whatever it’s called because your stress wasn’t helpin’” Daryl states slipping off his sweats to put jeans on when Y/N stepped out of the bathroom. “It’s easy for yea to stress out and back in the prison you passed out once cuz of it. Now you’re pregnant and Siddiq said it could cause more harm than good”

“Are you trying to stress me out now?”

“No, I’m just telling—-“

“It’s only for half the day. Both Maggie and Ezekiel know who you have to come back home to, they won’t hold you up and we also know Carol will shut Ezekiel up if he does start another endless conversation with you. You’ll be back before nightfall and I’ll be here waiting for my husband to come back”

The archer only gave her a worried expression because of how calm she was being, since a month ago she’d scream at him for just leaving the house. He brought himself over kissing her lovingly and holding her for as long as she let him, which could be hours and he’ll not be able to go anymore. But Y/N knew this trick.

“You seriously walking me out to make sure I actually go?” Daryl smiles walking his bike with his pregnant wife on the other side of such still wearing her sweats and one of his shirts.

“Did you forget about the morning and evening walks we do?”

“Nah I did not. Which reminds me to tell yea to wait for me for the night one. Take it easy walking back home and stay away from the new infusions”

Y/N whistled for Daryl to stop given she can’t maneuver fast enough to grab his arm. “Stay away from the new infusions?”

“Rick let in more ex-saviors to help around here. They are staying in the apartment looking houses” Daryl parked his bike a moment bringing himself to rest his hands on her belly. “Two of them are annoying shit stains of humanity. I don’t know the other one’s name but one of’em is Bryan and they’d much rather pawn their work off to somebody else”

“Daryl. I doubt they’d make a pregnant woman do shit”

“Well. I told Aaron to check on yea if he sees you doing anything sketchy”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Rick is at Oceanside, Michonne is watching a sick Judith, and the others are working on the bridge repair. You won’t let me stay to make sure you don’t over exert yourself. Somebody’s gotta check on yea and since he’s takin’ care of a baby girl at the moment? He’s more than happy to check up on you when Gracie is napping”

“You really have everything planned. Even have a radio?” Y/N smiles crossing her arms as he took out said device to show her resulting in a playful eye roll. “I’ll do my best, my love. But I’ve never seen those individuals before…you can’t blame me if something happened”

“Yeah, but I sure as hell can kill a man if he harms my wife and baby” Daryl states, sneaking in a kiss before getting his bike back up and heading toward the gates.

“I promise nothing will happen, Dar”

What was meant to be an easy day, turned into a weird one.

When the gates closed, Y/N held her belly for a moment feeling the shifting baby inside her make it a bit difficult to go immediately back to her home. She decided to take a longer walk around Alexandria, stopping occasionally to talk to her friends and see what they were up to improve their community. Then on her way back there were two Alexandrians carrying a few boxes to the pantry and infirmary. Both looked at her with curious expressions…

“Yo!”

Y/N ignored it at first until she flinched to the sound of the box dropping beside her.

“You’re Y/N right? The other Dixon in this place”

“Yes…? And you are?” She frowns, not liking the feeling the atmosphere gave when the individual didn’t share his name right away.

“I’m new here. Do you mind helping us with something?”

“Uhm I’m not exactly supposed to be…lifting anything heavy” Y/N gestures a bit on the obvious side about her pregnant belly as they both still gave stone cold stares.

“We’ll carry it to the pantry and infirmary. Just could use somebody to put it away while we bring the rest”

“Is Siddiq not her—-“

“Seriously, Dixon. You’re just pregnant not incompetent” one of them stated only for Y/N’s expression to go south as she supported her belly telling them that she’ll meet them in the pantry first to unload the boxes.

Once she stepped far enough, one of them couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips.

“Cant believe that worked”

“Can it Bryan. We still gotta bring the boxes over then we can go fuck off for the rest of the day” The other scoffs picking up and the box carrying it to where it needed to be.

It had been a couple hours of putting supplies away in their perspective areas, thankfully Y/N has worked with Siddiq before so she knows where he likes everything to be. The doctor just didn’t expect to come back from checking on the little ones of Alexandria after lunch time to find Y/N standing on a stool putting away spare gauze in a tub that Siddiq put them in.

“Are you crazy?��� Siddiq frowns watching Y/N stumble a bit unexpected as he quickly drop his medical bag to help his friend off the stool. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you in here?”

“Because I have to be useful!”

“Y/N what the hell do you mean?!” Siddiq frowns watching the discomfort grow on her face along with the tears forming. “Okay, come on. Sit down and tell me what happened” he made her sit on the gurney sitting with her.

“My husband—-“

“Did Daryl get hurt?!”

“No! He warned me about some slackers and I just. I didn’t think I was this stupid enough to fall for their shit” Y/N frowns wiping away her tears before wincing and holding her belly instantly. Siddiq pulled away to get the portable machine helping her lay down onto the gurney adjusting it for her to sit up. “It was just one damn conversation and I felt like I was being useless. We won that stupid fucking war. Lost a lot of people. Then this happened and it’s the best thing but all my hormones are all over the place—-“

“And that’s normal! It’s normal for hormones to take over control with all your other emotions.” Siddiq carefully rolled her shirt up to apply a bit of the gel and gently place the wand to check on the heartbeat. “Can you tell me your pain level? And I’m talking from the moment you’ve felt uncomfortable”

“A six…”

“Are you lying?” Siddiq stated watching the tears build up more. “Y/N how long have you been working today?”

“About an hour after Daryl left”

The look on Siddiq’s face only grew even more worried for his friend as he cleaned her up and before she even tried to get up, he carefully helped her back down grabbing a blanket to cover her.

“Siddiq—-“

“You’re having contractions and I don’t want you to force this baby out from your stress because it’s too early and while I think we can…handle that intense situation…I don’t want you to lose this baby if it goes south.” Siddiq frowns covering her more in the blanket and putting the gurney in the trendelenburg position to have gravity help slow the contractions. Before he pulled away to grab a few things that will help, Y/N grabbed his arm. “You stay here and I’ll get someone to radio Daryl to come back a bit early”

“You think he’ll…uh…y-you think he’ll be mad at me?” Her voice broke as Siddiq took her hand into both of his shaking his head.

“No. But when he finds out about who made you overwork, they aren’t going to see the next day”

By the time Siddiq got Daryl on the line, he was already making his way back to Alexandria and when he heard about his wife he was speeding even faster. Daryl parked in front of the infirmary, dropping his bike without another thought as he enters the building bringing himself to her side resting his hand on her belly.

“How are yea feeling?”

“I’m sorry—-“

“Love, please—-“

“I’m really sorry” Y/N broke down in a sob making her husband out of instinct gently wipe away her tears. “I’m really sorry I didn’t take it easy—“

“Y/N. I’m serious when I say this. You don’t have to apologize.” Daryl frowns rubbing circles on her belly watching her bring her hand over his. “Did Siddiq tell yea how long you’d have to be—-“

“She can go back down.” Siddiq interrupts the two coming down from his flat above the infirmary with a filled canteen for Y/N. “You can take her back to your home to be more comfortable in her bed but again, bed rest—-“

“Fuck” Y/N sobbed hating it already and she’s not in her own bed.

“Just for a week until your stress levels and blood pressure go down. Thankfully trendelenburg worked with the contractions but don’t want you, again, to overwork yourself” Siddiq set the canteen down to help Daryl get Y/N on her feet before giving her the filled bottle. “Don’t let her leave the house, then maybe nobody would abuse your hormones” he stated letting them be to finish what Y/N started before he made her rest.

After getting Y/N back home and in their bed, Daryl stuck by her side thinking of the words Siddiq had said before they left. But he wasn’t going to address it when she was still experiencing a bit of discomfort.

“You want another pillow?”

“Then what are you going to sleep on?”

“A mattress? I don’t need a pillow, just need my woman comfortable while she’s a human incubator” He jokes getting a short lived laugh out of her as he moves the extra blankets and his pillows to support her back and belly. When she first started getting uncomfortable, he tried looking for one of those pregnancy pillows that Carol had told him about but it was a lot of work and he didn’t want to leave her at all. Like he promised and is semi-regretting given he left to take care of business and some assholes were pushing her limits with emotional abuse.

“Daryl…?” Y/N tiredly calls out for him as he returns with her canteen filled for a fourth time since being home as he brought himself to sit on the edge of the bed setting her bottle on the nightstand.

“Yes, sunshine?”

“You still love me right…?” Y/N pouted only for Daryl to scoff at such a ridiculous question, leaning over to shower her in kisses making her bring her arms around his neck to keep him close for the moment. “Dar…”

“I’ll always love you. Even when yea risk yourself. But, imma stick by yea for the rest of this.” Daryl states. “No more tellin’ me I gotta go cuz I promised somebody. Someone else will get the work done, doesn’t have to be me and definitely doesn’t have to be you”

“Can you hold me tonight?”

“As long as you don’t kick me out of the bed when it got too hot” he laughs softly, bringing his lips to hers for a few short soft kisses before pulling away to get into comfortable clothing to sleep in and hold her.

The second Y/N fell asleep and was in deep enough sleep for the archer to slip away to check on a familiar hiding spot in Alexandria. Said hiding spot would have those who didn’t want others to notice they were smoking. Knowing damn well he’ll find the right men that have been bothering his partner.

“Ayo the other Dixon has retur—-“ Bryan immediately shut up when Daryl grabbed him by the collar forcing him against the walls of the community.

“You talk to my wife today? Mess with her and had your buddy over here help?”

“Dude I have no idea—-“

“Don’t lie. Don’t even try, or I will fucking end you right here and now” Daryl hissed shoving him harshly against the wall letting go of his shirt. He quickly turned to his buddy who put out his cigarette before holding his hands up defensively. “If I see you and or this son of a bitch near my wife or even hear about it, I’ll feed you both to the walkers after I’ve knocked the living shit out of you both. And don’t yea worry…I’ve got friends to let me know if yea fuck with the love of my life and soon to be mother of my child” and with that he took his leave letting the two regret their decisions and contemplate being moved to a different community to avoid the harsher Dixon. But even then, he’d tear them apart anywhere.

Y/N shifted slightly when the bed moved behind her, she relaxed instantly feeling her husband bring his arm around her pulling her into him.

“Where’d you go?”

“Got yea more water, and heard somethin’ outside”

“Another possum?”

“A pest that’s for sure”

“Mmm…” Y/N snuggles into his embrace getting comfortable as Daryl kissed her temple. “Nothing you can’t handle right?”

Right.

[wosoamazing]

14:00

Warnings: Death, CPR, car accident, blood, head injury, stud’s causing blood, match abandoned, panic attack?, ankle injury, vomit(barely, bile), badly translated Spanish - google translated (has english though too). 

A/N: Part 2? If yes Angsty or Fluffy?? Or both??

One minute you were walking down the street with your best friend, the next minute you were on call with 112, about to start CPR on your best friend. Every minute that went by she slipped further and further away. The women who hit her. The women who didn’t even know her was breaking down. Her continuous screams of “I’m sorry” pierced your ears over and over. This women, a women who didn’t even know her was allowed to break down but you couldn't. You had to fight back the tears that brimmed your eyes. You had to stay strong. Watch how her chest caved inward with every compression. Watch as the colour faded away from her body slowly, as blood spilled out of her. Watch as her pupils dilated further. Watch as her chest caved in slightly less with every compression and feel how your arms burnt more with every compression, your breath becoming more ragged with every minute, becoming increasingly aware of your heart that pounded in your chest. A wave of relief should’ve washed over you as you heard the sirens but it didn’t, instead you steadily became increasingly aware of the severity of the situation you we’re in.

“Señorita, ¿puede dar un paso atrás? Nos haremos cargo.(Miss, can you step back, we will take over.)” You didn't even look at him, not even a glance, your mind was laser focused, nothing else could get in. You had to keep going. You couldn't stop. She couldn't die. A hand was placed on your shoulder and it pulled you back, the paramedics immediately resumed CPR, you knelt there, trembling, tears threatening to leave your eyes, but you didn’t let them win.

“¿Puedo comprobarte? (Can I check you out?)” A voice said as they placed a hand on your back, you flinched “No, no, estoy bien, estoy bien (No, no I’m fine, I’m fine)” you reassured yourself. Because you were fine, you weren’t the one dying on the pavement.

----

“Ella ha estado codificando durante una hora, llámalo (She’s been coding for an hour, call it)” “Hora de la muerte 14:00 (Time of death 14:00)” you turned around, walked away, not noticing some of your teammates standing there, they all expected you to break but you didn’t. 14:00 signalled your best friend’s time of death, it also signalled the death of your ability to feel any emotion, you walked straight out of the hospital and back home, like a robot, monotone, you continued to just go through the daily motions of life for weeks, somehow not feeling any emotion. Until Alexia decided to try and get through to you one day.

“Y/N! aquí ahora(here now),” up until this point she was letting you go, when you didn't respond when you ignored her, but she wasn’t letting you go this time.

“Why are you training?” she bluntly said “What do you mean?” you snapped knowing very well what she meant, ever since that day your ankle had been hurting, but you had managed to hide it, until today, you had a slight limp, but you hoped no one noticed.

“Your ankle is hurt.” “No, it's not, I’m fine.” “Y/N,” “I’m fucking fine Alexia, what don’t you understand about that, estoy bien, is that better, do you understand now, can't you just leave me alone, that's all anyone has been doing for weeks.” Alexia was hurt, you had insinuated she was dump, but she wasn't going to continue pushing. she knew you didn't like talking about your emotions, they all did, but your last words repeated over in her head, was leaving you alone doing more harm than good, did you feel like you couldn't show emotion. She didn't know but she had just seen some sort of emotion from you, in your words and eyes, you had been aggressive and defensive, but your last words made her feel you were one trigger, one thing away from letting it all out.

____

It was only a week later when you were forced to show real and raw emotions again, there was a corner, and instead of Hannah Hampton’s glove hitting the ball she punched Lucy straight in the temple, causing the older women to fall to the ground with a thud, laying there lifeless, before she took studs to the shoulder as one of the Chelsea players stumbled backwards. She laid there lifeless blood pouring out of her, she couldn’t die, not this way, not the same way, your vision glazed over as the image of Lucy turned into your best friend, the sudden present of emotions choked you, the cries of the women met your ears again, the sirens, the paramedics, suddenly you couldn’t breath you had to get out of there, you ran, quickly, and found yourself hiding under a bench in the corner of the locker room, your were curled up as physically small as you could get, tears flooded out your eyes as you rocked, your hands squeezing the life from your legs, in an attempt to try and stay grounded.

Alexia had followed you, but she couldn't bring herself to moved further into the room, she just stood in the doorway not knowing what to do.

Ingrid came up behind her, informed her captain the game was abandoned, before the Norwegian women moved towards you and Alexia left, only to be greeted with all of her teammates standing in the hall, she was unsure of what to do, ever thankful that Emma offered they share the Chelsea showers, as quickly as possible your teammates came in collected all their things and quickly left, leaving just you and Ingrid in the room, the women had been trying to coax you out of your head and at least slightly back with her words, trying not to startle you, but it wasn’t working, she had no option but to place a very soft hand on your arm, which caused you to jump in sheer panic, you only ever so slightly opened a gap between your leg and arm to see who it was, but it was enough for Ingrid to see how much of a state you were in, your eyes wide open, pupils dilated in fear, tears streaming down your face.

Once you realised it was Ingrid, someone safe, someone soft, you immediately launched yourself at her, before yet again curling into the smallest ball you could in her lap, clutching at her jersey, which was quickly soaked from your tears, she held onto you tight, placing her chin on top of your head, rocking you softly as you continued to sob, as your body shook, as you were falling apart in her arms, and she was just glad someone was there when you did fall apart, her biggest fear the whole time had been what if someone wasn't there when you broke, when your heart cracked open, when the temporary tape that kept your heart together broke, but here she was, the tape had broken, causing your heart to shatter, and Ingrid was there to hold you. At some stage Mapi had come in, and sat next to Ingrid, she placed a cautious hand on your back and left it there, not moving it.

---

Your mouth started to fill with saliva, and your body rolled forward before you were met with a sour fluid in your mouth, Ingrid quickly moved a sick bag up to your mouth, and you spat out the bile before taking a small sip of water and resuming your tight ball, your eyes were still streaming, although your body had stopped shaking as much as it was. The two women resumed, their positions of just sitting there, in silence, with you, both knowing you would talk about it with time, both knowing you didn't want to be pushed, and you didn't want someone telling you it was okay, or that it would be okay because no one in life actually knew whether it would be okay or not. So they sat there with you, giving you the physical comfort and reassurance you needed, having no intention of moving until you wanted to.

---

“Go,” you said so quietly the two women barely registered it, you didn't know how long it had been, but you felt okay now, you felt ready to go and talk about it.

“Sure, you’re going to stay with us though okay,” you didn't say anything, just nodded, you were thankful you didn't have to go home to your cold apartment which was once filled with warmth from your best friend, the apartment that was once filled with laughter, once filled with joy. Ingrid lifted you up with her, and as you stood your ankle was throbbing, but it had been for the past week, what was different, however it was different when you took your first step towards the exit, a simple step caused so much pain, from one simple step your knee buckled under you as a shooting pain rose up your leg. Ingrid quickly wrapped a hand around your waist, steadying you.

“I-Ing, um, c-could we, p-pos-posibly g-go t-to the, the physios f-first?” you softly stuttered, she looked at you slightly bewilder that you had opened up so quickly about your ankle that everyone knew was hurt, the one that was clearly hurt the day Alexia called you out for it and you insisted you were fine, even though it was evident you weren't, both of them were concerned that it had somehow gotten worse in the past hour both just standing there not knowing what to do, “my-my an-ankle,” she nodded, and Mapi quickly moved ahead of you both to see if the Chelsea physios were still there and whether they could look at you or not.

“Our physios aren’t here, but the Chelsea physios are going to take care of you,” they looked over you, before getting an x-ray. “It's broken, but we are worried about ligament damage since it looks to be a stress fracture, she is going to need to get scans at the hospital,” your body stiffened at his words, as your eyes widen and you started trembling “no-no-no hospital,” you pleaded, “Can’t you just put her in a boot and give her crutches, other than possible surgery what else would they do different if it was ligaments too.” Ingrid tried to reason with them, “We can but there is a possibility that if we don’t do the scan on her ankle today she could have to have a bigger surgery and longer recovery, or will be in pain every time she plays forever” “Qué más va a hacer una semana o dos? ya ha pasado un mes” (What more is a week or two going to do. It has already been a month)

[starshipsofstarlord]

Using You

Summary -> you love him, you really do - he’s your best friend, however you’re scared if you choose to be with him you’ll lose him; you’d already lost too much. However, Daryl thinks that you’re using him to distract yourself with sex. It’s up to you to prove him wrong (2.9k)

Warnings -> 18+ minors dni, smut, unprotected sex, unrequited love (or so Daryl thinks), oral sex (male receiving), shower sex, angst, fluff, mentions of death, swearing, smoking

The bed was cold whilst your body continued to be heated by another, shoved up against the wall, with a large masculine hand covering any sounds that threatened to escape from your lips.

You were lost, the Governor had attacked the prison, leaving all of your friends and family to run for their lives and evade the invading walkers that had entered through the broken fences.

And so here you were, in the home of a stranger that was probably dead, being fucked by the archer, clawing at his broad shoulders to escape the loss of your reality that haunted you each time that you closed your eyes. If anyone could understand the horror that tormented you each time you closed your eyes, it was him.

There was no need for words, there were other distractions that were far more pleasant. And you had found it with his dick inside of you, stretching your walls to the point where you felt lightheaded.

Daryl was your best friend, this was seen as wrong on so many accounts, but since the first time you couldn’t find the strength to not repeat your actions. The initial act had made you addicted to feel your bodies intertwine, however it was all physical. And that was exactly what you craved, any emotions didn’t matter, the chances were that you were going to die out here anyways, so it was in your best interest to enjoy the time that you had while you were alive.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum Dar.” You mumbled against his palm, puffs of air from your nose creating friction against his hand, as your eyes began to roll back upon their own accord.

The man that was bringing you so close your release grunted in reply, aware that he would shortly follow with his own euphoric bliss, he mashed his hips closer to your own, wanting nothing more than to be as deep within you as possible.

He continued to thrust, until you reached your peak which gave him the go ahead to race towards his own, quickly pulling out of you before he could fill you up, to his own dismay. And as soon as you were both finished you crawled out from his grasp, standing on your own two legs and shuffling through your clothes, tugging them on to conceal everything that you had already exposed to him.

“Where ya goin’ now?” Daryl shook his head, walking towards you to wrap his burly arms around your waist. You closed your eyes and tugged his grip away from you, reaching into your pocket for the pack of cigarettes that you had found downstairs.

“Outside. You coming Dixon?” You didn’t wait for a response, and he was complied once dressed to follow after you, sitting on the steps of the forest surrounded house.

There was no sign of any walkers, only sparse bodies that you had taken down when finding the hideaway, it made the world almost feel normal, but you couldn’t fool yourself. It would never be the same again, it was a danger just to breathe let alone travel anywhere, you’d learnt that from witnessing how many of your friends had died through the last couple of years.

Daryl looked at your form, taking in every speckle marked on your skin, each scar that peaked out through the articles that you donned upon your body. You were the reason he had kept living, striving for something better, and he needed you to know that… even if it killed him.

“Y/n.” You hummed in reply, not daring to look at him, watching the silent trees in front of you rather than adorning him with attention. “Y/n, I- fuck, I love ya dammit!” That seemed to have gained your focus and you stared at him with wide eyes, Daryl stood, pacing on the shabby porch, waving his hand in your direction, and running the other at the back of his head.

“Never mind. Was a stupid thing ta say, jus’ forget it.” He went to walk inside but you rushed up, grabbing him by the arm and spinning him around to face you - his greatest fear. If anyone else would have handled him in such a way, they would have been scared for their life, but you knew him, all the good and bad, and the traumas he had survived through.

“I won’t forget it.” You pried, serving him a sad smile. “But you don’t love me like that, I’m your best friend. You’re just saying that because of the things we’ve been doing, I don’t want you to confuse yourself. You’re allowed to care about someone without it having to be romantic.”

“I ain’t confused.” Daryl stared at the ground, kicking his boots against the rotting wood beneath him. “I love ya, always have. Was just too scared to say it, afraid that you wouldn’t love me back, clearly I was righ’.”

“Daryl don’t.” You warned him, you could feel your heart breaking from the broken, hopeless expression that he weaned in your direction. “It’s- I do love you. I do! But there’s no point in starting something that we won’t get to finish, I’m not going to live forever, not in this world. And the last thing I want is for you to blame yourself if you lose me!”

“You ain’t going nowhere.” Daryl stated, stepping towards you once more, nervously reaching his hand up to embrace your jaw. “I ain’t gonna let anything happen to you. Yer stuck with me.” He would

“We should go back inside.” You flicked the cigarette out and stepped on its stub, prepared to walk past him to enter the doorway, however he stopped you. He leant down, pecking your lips quickly so he wouldn’t be hurt if you didn’t reciprocate it. “It’s getting dark.”

You spoke softly, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside with you. If you were to leave Daryl to his own devices he would no doubt disappear into the woods to clear his loud head, and that was the last thing that you wanted.

Everyone else was already lost, out of sight and possibly deceased. You wouldn’t allow Daryl to leave you, you needed him by your side. If it weren’t for him, you probably wouldn’t have made it out of the prison that you had called home.

“I ain’t scared of the dark.” He muttered gruffly to himself as he walked over to the kitchen area, rifling through the cupboards to see if he’d missed anything within his initial inspection. “Don’t need ya keeping me locked up like some pet.”

“Daryl, that’s not what I meant.” You rolled your eyes, wishing that he could understand your rejection of a relationship. You’d had your heart broken far too many times, despite trusting Daryl, to risk something so important in the new world. “I’m turning in, you can either come and join me, or sleep on the couch. Just stay inside please.”

If he wanted to go hunting in the morning you’d happily go with him. The last thing you wanted was for him to be ran off by some walkers or men with bad intentions like the Governor. You didn’t want to be alone, you couldn’t be alone.

If you were left by yourself, you’d see no point in staying inside. It would mean that you had lost everyone, and you couldn’t allow that to happen.

“Fine. Guess I’ll keep yer bed warm since that’s all you wan’ from me.” You wanted to turn on your heel, to fight back with your own words, but that would only spark his agitated fuse to a whole new extent. To be at each others throats could be the difference between life and death in some worldly situations, and you’d rather live with him hating you than him risking to take a bullet or a bite for you.

Tears threatened to fall from your eyes but you harshly blinked them away; it was always your route of dealing with emotions, to shelter them away. But you were struggling with knowing that Rick may have been beaten to death by that dreadful, power hungry dictator, Carol was god knows where when the prison fell, Judith could…

No. Thinking like that wasn’t helping matters. You couldn’t think of the horrid things that could have taken place after you and Daryl ran.

But guilt was bubbling within you as you thought of how Daryl had opened up to you, and you had outright and in the moment pushed his affection away. You wanted nothing more than him to shamelessly be allowed to love you, but once more, the prison had proved that if anyone chose to care about you they died.

It was exactly the same in the old world. You came into this new one after the outbreak with nobody, and you had found a family of people that would have never interacted in the past. Yet you’d lost your family again. It was heartbreaking, and you’d been foolish enough to practically stab Daryl in the chest.

But he had to understand, somehow it really wasn’t him. It was you. You were a torch that brought a plague of mourning to those that surrounded you, and it wouldn’t be fair for him to pursue the grim reaper herself. Even if he wanted to, he would only end up in more pain.

It would be your time eventually to leave this earth, and it wouldn’t be fair for anyone to miss you. Instead they should in theory be relieved that you were gone, it would mean that their chances of not dying had thickened.

Silently you crawled onto the bed frame, Daryl watched you. You wanted nothing more than to cut into yourself and sob, however you had no intention of doing it when he was present, you had upset him, acting as the victim would only infuriate him. For all the time that you’d known him, if he was resenting someone or something in his mind, he was quick to snap if they pissed him off.

Your head fell onto the pillow as you faced the wall on the left side of the bed, it was large enough for the both of you, and so you felt the mattress dip behind you, from where Daryl had joined you.

It was stupid of you to have pushed him away, you yearned for his arms to encase your waist to comfort both of you, but after your outburst of insecurities, you didn’t deserve it. Not in your eyes, and definitely not in Daryl’s.

To fall asleep easier, you closed your eyes and imagined that you were in the cell block you had taken for your own in the prison, in your bunk without any company. In the morning, you would see all your friends and the people that you had saved from Woodbury eating their rations of breakfast that Daryl had hunted and Rick had farmed. You wished you could remain asleep forever so that you wouldn’t return to the scarce reality where you were picking up your own broken fragments of your shattered mind, and that you could mentally remain in the time where everything was easier and you felt happier.

You had fallen into a deep sleep until the early morning, you groggily sat up, noticing that Daryl was no longer by your side, facing away from you.

He was gone, and it made you panic, until you came to your senses and noticed his crossbow in the corner of the room, and the hush sound of the shower in the room next door. It was a surprise that this place still had access to water and that when the outbreak happened it hadn’t been shut off, it must have had its own power source to conduct such a blissful thing.

And so once your eyes were completely open and you had rubbed the exhaustion and spilt tears from your sleep out of them, you stood, tip toeing towards the bathroom, and noticing that the door wasn’t completely closed, it was ajar just a little, and you could see Daryl’s build stood there under the falling water, the scars on his back enticing you closer.

You shouldn’t have been doing this, you had pushed him away for a reason, but your heart ached to be close to him. You did want him, all of him, in every way there was, but if you started falling down you were certain that you would never stop. It was cease to be something of light of heart, and you would have to mourn someone else that you loved.

He must have heard you, he was swift when it came to tracking, so it came as no surprise. “Wha’ d’ya want?” He asked, eyeing you suspiciously, thinking you only wanted to have another escapade as just friends. You shook your head, eyes threatening to spill over as you realised this was the moment to take the risk. The risk that had your breath getting caught in your throat, and the risk that threatened the happily ever after you dreamed of.

You’d rather be loved by Daryl than have regrets in regards to your friendship. All along you had been fooling yourself, to think that the two of you could ever be less than lovers.

“I meant it when I said I loved you. I’m scared- I want to be with you, I just don’t want to lose you.” He stared at you, watching as you chewed your lip and tugged nervously at the bottom of your shirt. “But we have nothing else to live for than each other. I can’t ignore how I feel, I’ve been doing it for too long.”

The rest that you had gotten had really cleared your head, and as much as you were scared of the future, the priority was to live just another day. “I mean’ what I said, yer stuck wit’ me.” Daryl stated, turning to face you completely through the foggy glass, and your eyes examined the seriousness on his face. “Get in ‘ere, I need ya.”

There was no argument from you, it took you less than a minute to strip yourself of your clothing, aware that this time wouldn’t be a distraction. It would mean more, or everything since the pair of you were lacking any emotional barricades between you now.

You stepped into the shower, walking until your head leant against Daryl’s chest, and his arms encased you, as you mumbled against his skin. “I’m sorry I tried to push you away.”

“I’m sorry I was a jerk.” He replied, holding your face so that he could breathe against your lips. “Didn’ mean anything I said, ‘cept that I love ya. Always have, was jus’ too scared to say it before, figured we had nothin’ more to lose.” He gripped your waist, his knuckles turning white under the cool spray of the shower head as he pulled you flush against him so that you could feel the affect that you had upon his body.

“We don’t.” You agreed, grabbing gently at his shoulders as you met his gaze and the two of you simultaneously leant toward one another. Your lips met, slowly, exploring this newfound feeling of requited love, giving all you had away. Your fears were gone, they didn’t matter anymore, they were locked away in the back of your mind as Daryl effortlessly lifted you up and into his arms, resting you between him and the tiled wall.

“Wish we never had to leave ‘ere, wish we could stay here like this forever,” he spoke against the flesh of your neck as he released kisses to everywhere he could reach. His hand that wasn’t supporting your weight grabbed his cock, tracing the outside of your cunt, causing your breath to hitch, a gasp escaping you as he pushed into you.

He huffed against your warm skin, feeling how your pussy fluttered around his length, as your hands wove through his hair. Once you were fully adjusted, he began to rock into you, pulling in and out, relishing in the glory of your bodies colliding.

Your lips found purchase on his again, silencing the loud moans that threaten to spill over and alert any nearby walkers of your destination. “Fuck. You feel so good Dar.” You whimpered, your eyes closing to avert the falling water from joining the pleasure emitting tears that were spilling, as you felt the notion of love beginning to creep upon you.

Daryl reached down, rubbing at your clit, which causes you to fall over the edge. The edge of endless love, that you had been too frightened to witness. You came around his cock, drenching him with his affection as he pulled out and you instantly dropped to your knees, too weak to stand up.

He leant down to help you, however your mind had different ideas, as you leant forward and shoved his cock in your mouth, gifting the man above you with surprise. His hand rubbed at your scalp adoringly as he heaving inhaled and exhaled, lightly thrusting into your mouth.

You happily choked on his cock as you stared up at him with eager eyes, wanting nothing more than to feel his cum slide down your throat. And the release didn’t stretch out much longer, he emptied his first load since realising that you loved him, and you drank it down without any resentment.

This was all he had wanted, for a long time, to feel as though he mattered more than a tracker and a hunter. He wanted to be loved by the woman of his dreams, and after a dragging of unrequited time, he had finally, for the first time, gotten what he wanted.

You.

[zane009]

sweet dampness

summary: you and Dary take a shower together when he suddenly gets self conscious about his scars.

warnings?: lots of fluff, nudity, mention of scars

Daryl x reader

word count: 1034

you felt his warm calloused hands on both sides of your face caressing your cheeks lovingly. The look he was giving you was filled with nothing but pure adoration and care as you two stood there in the middle of a small bathroom. Not much words were uttered as he slowly leaned in and kissed your lips fondly. He softly pressed his own lips to yours while his hand moved upward to caress your hair. His fingers tangled with the hair as he slightly deepened the kiss.

As you slowly pulled away he dropped his hands to the only clothing still present on your body. He hooked one finger under the strap of your bra while still looking at you with his clear blue eyes.

He let the strap fall down as he repeated the motion with the other side. His hands delicately traveled down to your waist brushing your skin as he leaned in again and planted a small sweet kiss to your forehead. The fingers on your waist were slowly drawing little circles as you felt yourself relax in his arms.

You are filled with love as you can let yourself enjoy this peaceful moment with him. You knew daryl was very insecure about his scars and it took him awhile to get completely comfortable with you to do this. So for him to finally be able to stand here naked made you feel genuinely happy. It’s not the first time you two are together this way but you always make sure to appreciate it. Daryl trusted you. So you wanted nothing more than to cherish every single moment given with him.

His hands moved up behind your back as he unclasped your bra and pressed another quick kiss into your hair as he let the piece of clothing fall to the floor.

You took his big hand in yours and led him into to the shower, the water already warm enough for you to step under. He followed after you and closed to shower door. To say the least the shower wasn’t really spacious but it wasn’t a problem either. You two enjoyed the presence and the closeness of each other’s bodies.

You took the strawberry scented shampoo sitting on the shelf and squeezed some of it on the palm of your hand. You slowly rubbed your hands together and then placed them on daryls chest quickly looking up at him for confirmation.

You knew he’d let you do this but you want him to know you cared. His lips curled upwards flashing you his significant simle letting you know it’s okay.

You let your hands do the work and rubb circles over his skin tenderly amd slowly with the intention of making his stiff muscles relax. You washed his arms, his chest, his shoulders and his torso letting your hands roam. You heard him let out soft groans from time to time which made you smile discreetly.

As you were done with the front you daintily tried to move him around to tend to his back but he stilled. You locked your gaze with him searching for what seems to be the problem. “ Dar’ if you’re uncomfortable i can stop….you know I wouldn’t pressure you into anything ” you murmured quietly.

Daryl felt guilty hearing the concern in your voice but he couldn’t help himself. Even though you saw his scars already his thoughts still get the best of him sometimes. He was ashamed of them. They made him ugly. But how could he say that to you when all you wanted was to take care of him all while looking at him with thoes big eyes of yours.

“‘S nothin’ sweet ya keep goin’ “

You weren’t really convinced but as he showed no restraint you went for it still unsure since you wanted nothing more but to make him happy and not upset. You gently pushed him around so his back was turend to you. You put your hands on his waist careassing his skin as you delicately pressed your lips on the top scar of his back. You followed the scar to the end pressing soft kisses into his back. You felt him relax under your touch as you continued to kiss downward.

As you pressed your lips to yet another scar you murmured “ you have nothing to be ashamed of Daryl. You are beautiful.” You let your hands wander back up and finish washing up his back. Little did you know Drayls worries disappeared completely as he felt stupid for ever doubting you. He let a smile linger on his face while you finished his back.

After you were finished you rinsed him off and it was his turn to pamper you. He took some of the shampoo and ushered you to turn around. You did so without complaint as you felt his hands go into your hair. You let yourself close your eyes as you enjoyed every pull and caress his fingers provided for your scalp.

Daryl absolutely loved washing your hair. He massaged your scalp with fondness as his eyes skidded to your back admiring how the skin dipped at your waist and rounded into your ass. He loved searching for any new beauty marks he might have missed or battle scars he has yet to discover.

On top of the view he gets while washing your hair he also gets to feel the soft strands of your hair in his hands. He gets to make you feel at least a bit more relaxed due to the massage he’s providing and he wants nothing more than for you to be safe, healthy and happy. And he would do anything to ensure it.

He rinsed out your hair and put his arms around you while he snuggled into your freshly washed hair from behind. You hummed in content as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder then your neck. You slowly turned around and smiled up at him feeling so lucky you get to call him yours. And as if he was reading your mind he grunted and pulled you closer while he mumbled into your hair

“ ‘m so lucky yer mine sweet ”

𐮙𐬾𐬽𐮙𐬿𐮜𐬽

Literally my first post lmao…hope you enjoyed would love some feedback <3 it’s clearly not been proof read or sum because who would i ask🥲 so sorry if there are mistakes

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

Hello i don’t know if your request are open or closed ignore me if it’s the case but can you make a Jason grace x reader when he know she is love with him and it’s reciprocated but she don’t want to make the move because Jason grace is a golden boy perfect etc.. and she is just normal thank you 🤩

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Oh, That Golden Light - Its Blinding Me

content: jason grace x unclaimed! reader fic warning: kinda angsty, ig??? sort of??? i dunno??? author's note: taking a break from the smau bc i miss writing lmao- also i feel so big brain for making the reader unclaimed for legit no reason. this is HEAVILY influenced by golden by harry styles. im not like a huge mega fan but satellite did things to me bc i thought of my father while listening to it and i had to pull over i was crying so hard in my car oop- anyways, i hope yall enjoy me coming out of my writing disappearance frfr WERE BACK BABYYYYYYYY

jason grace was like something out of some shiny hollywood movie. perfect. flawless. stunning. blinding.

it was hard not to fall in love with zeus' golden boy. he was just so sweet and caring to every person he met. you wouldn't even know this boy was a harden solider from the way he fawned over trampled patches of grass or new campers. he was just that kind of person, the one who drew people in with his comforting aura.

and you were just another victim of jason grace's warm vibes.

you, one of the few campers who continued to break percy's promise with the gods. 'claim them by thirteen,' he'd said and they agreed, but apparently your name must have been in the fine print. every summer and winter solstice, your name was brought up as a betrayal of their promise and every summer and winter solstice it was brushed under the rug. you tried to not let it affected, that your parent was so ashamed of you that they were willing to risk the wrath of percy jackson to avoid claiming you. but whatever, it's cool, it's totally fine, and not something you think about late at night.

but it did affect you. your self worth was in the dumps, you'd never felt so undesirable in your entire life. which is why you left your dreams of being jason's girlfriend just that; dreams. he'd find some other girl, some girl who was wanted, and you'd just have to live with that. but, boy, he didn't make it easy.

"good morning, yn. sleep well?" he asked, just like every morning, a book under his arm and his hair still fluffed from his pillows as he jogged to catch up with you. breakfast had been called and, just like every morning, jason made sure to walk with you and grab his breakfast with you.

"gave up my bed to little jamie here last night. those floorboards aren't too bad though," you replied easily, distracting yourself by ruffling jamie's spikey ginger hair. he was one of the new campers, still unclaimed like you, but you were sure that was bound to change soon as he was twleve. you glanced up and noticed jason's frown but pretended like you didnt.

"yn-"

"do you hear that? i think connor needs me. ill see you around, grace," you cut off what would surely be words of concern, scampering off towards connor, who definitely didn't call for you. being with jason was hard, it burned to be within feet of that boy. he was just so dazzling and bright and sometimes you just couldn't do it. you couldn't stand to block his light. to tarnish it in the way only you could.

"you try archery? maybe you're an apollo kid?" travis offered as you guys walked back from breakfast, but he knew the answer. you gave him a pointed look and he shrugged with a roll of his eyes.

"or maybe im not even an halfblood. maybe someone screwed up. maybe im destined to be unwanted, to rot away inside cabin eleven until i look like the oracle," you rambled, only stopping to take a calming breath.

"i can think of someone who wants you," connor hummed from you other side, a cheeky smile and sly look shared between the boys who could be twins but weren't. you squinted at both of them, your head darting around like you were watching an intense tennis match.

"what are you two even yapping on about?" you hissed and they just continued to smirk in the way only they could.

"we're just suggesting that a certain golden boy has his eyes on you. his heart eyes," travis gushed, wiggling his fingers at you as connor pretended to swoon. you scoffed and shoved the two away, hoping the distance would blur their vision of your growing blush.

"you two tease too much. cruel boys is what you are," you huffed and continued to march away from their laughing forms, clear evidence that they had seen your blush.

you spent your day the way you always spent your days at camp half blood; trying everything in hopes of getting recognized, in hopes of impressing your parent enough for them to dangle a glowing light over your head, to claim you as their child. you covered yourself with soot inside the forges with leo but all you ever managed to produce was a broken spring that even had leo wincing in shame as he plucked it from your hands and threw it away. you tried every weapon in the arena, letting clarisee pummel you with swords, spears, and shield alike. you even tried hanging out with nico and percy, trying to dig up bones and talk to horses but it never worked. none of it ever worked. which is how you ended up at the dock, your legs crossed under you and your fist shoved into your cheek to hold your head up. apollo's sun was starting to set, coating the whole of camp in a golden hue that had you thinking of one boy who was comparable to the color.

"go away, travvy. im not hungry," you muttered as you heard footsteps approached, picking up another rock and plopping it into the lake, watching the naiads follow it down before bringing it back up to you.

"not travis," a familar voice mused as he stopped behind you, causing your spine to straighten and you to look over your shoulder with a mildly panicked look, being met with the very golden boy who invaded your mind.

"oh, hey, jason," you replied, returning your attention to the naiads as jason sat down next you, leaning back against one of the poles as he watched you. you stiffened under his view, feeling it to be more interrogating than anything. you went to open your mouth and run away with lies about needing to make your bed but jason beat you to it.

"you look so pretty in this light."

"huh?" you asked, stupidly, turning to look at him with what surely was a dumb look on your face. jason's lips just continued to twitched upwards, the setting sun's light getting caught on his scar. you had the fading thoughts that jason might have seen it as an imperfection, which would have made you laugh; the golden boy, flawed? no, surely not.

"i said; you look beautiful in this light. just gorgeous," he continued, leaving you gaping like a fish before swallowing down your embarrassment as you hung your head.

"look, if the stolls put you up to this for some stupid prank, it's okay-"

"nope. ever hear of free will, yn?" jason mused, his eyes unwillingly drifting from you towards the golden setting sun. your eyes stayed on him, brows furrowed as you tried to figure out his angle.

"jason," you said, not entirely sure what you wanted to say after you drew his attention back to you. his blue eyes instantly darted back to you, gleaming with a fondness that you've seen in the way percy looks at annabeth, the way nico looks at will, and the way charles used to look at silena. with a love that you never thought would be directed towards you. let alone from him.

"yn," he teased back with a bright smile, shifting to lean closer to you. you wanted to lean away, give him space to think over his decisions but your gut wouldn't let you, feeling his breath fan across your redden cheeks.

"what are you doing?" you whispered out, not needing to speak louder due to the closeness.

"something i should have done a long time ago. im confessing to a girl that i like her, like, a lot. im telling this pretty girl that i know she's scared, but i can't get her out of my mind," jason rambled and out of the corner of your eye, you could his hand reach out before landing against your bicep. it then ran upwards, slowly gliding over your skin towards your neck and face.

"jason. we- we can't. youre- gods, youre so golden and perfect and youre just- youre too bright for me. we can't," you breathed out, rapidly, but unable to lean away from his warm touch. his hand which was now cupping your cheek while his other landed somewhere near your hip.

"yn, youre the perfect girl for me. utter perfection. and i'll spend the rest of my life ensuring that you know that. you'll never go another day going unwanted with me, i swear on my life," jason replied, firmly, the roman praetor tone strong in his voice. and, not wanting to give you time to argue, jason pulled your lips to his.

and you'd be lying if you said you didn't lean in a little too.

kissing jason grace was like something out of some shiny hollywood movie. perfect. flawless. stunning. dazzling.

[lilgoblinbitch]

inspiration given by @yummymeee (you are giving me good ideas thank you thank you lovely 🩵)

☾₊˚ ༘⋆

daryl wasn’t one to fuck a girl on his motorcycle, yet here he was. letting you bounce on his cock while a cigarette hung off his lips.

“‘atta girl,” he praised you, a hand roughly gripping your ass as you slid up and down his thick length. his other hand was taking the cancer stick from his lips and puffing the smoke out, clouding your vision temporarily.

you ceased your movements just to snatch the cig from daryl’s fingers and bring it up to your parted, panting mouth.

“did i tell ya ta stop?” daryl grumbled. this time he placed both hands on either side of your hips and thrusted up into you, vehemence in his mannerism. a whine sneaked past your lips which hugged loosely around the cigarette, while daryl proceeded to jostle his hips against yours.

you took a hurried hit from the cigarette and offered it back to daryl. he caught it in his grasp but before tucking it back between his teeth, he smashed his lips onto your own, the menthol on your tongue a lingering taste on his own. yours bodies pressed together, the stifled cries of pleasure vibrating into daryl’s hot mouth as he steered your hips, plowing himself into you.

it was like a scene from steamy romance film — a careless woman unable to resist her intriguing biker-archer loverboy with a somewhat cloak-and-dagger personality, so she decides that seducing him in the middle of the night on his motorcycle is the right approach to her longing. unironically you probably had watched a movie similar to that back in the day; you lived for anything to do with passionate romance in literature and film.

and now, your lust for passion manifested into this moment, with your core hugging around daryl dixon’s throbbing cock that was pounding into you, while you were rocking on top of his sleek leather cushioned bike.

daryl’s hands kept their place on your hips, which you were certain would end up leaving marks on your skin. but that didn’t concern you, because the way the archer was ramming his cock into that precious spot in your sopping cunt made you high. so fucking high off his cock.

your tits bounced with each thrust of his hips underneath you. the cig was dangling from your mouth, the spark in it slowly starting to die due to lack of use. daryl noticed and swiftly took it from your mouth, placing it in his own, all the while his assault on your yearning hole quickened and became harsher. he couldn’t help but reach a hand up to your breast, fondling the hardened bud with his fingertips while kneading the flesh with his palm.

all of the stimulation was becoming overwhelming. “unhh, dar, gonna cum,” you whined, your upper body losing its strength. your shaky hands anchored your body by grabbing a hold of his stiff and broad shoulders. in your fucked out state you finally gave in and fully collapsed your weight into him, tits pressing against his hard chest as he bouced your bruised hips on his large cock.

daryl grunted with each thrust, the intensity of his pace escalating. your throbbing clit rubbed against his pubic bone, sending waves of pleasure coarsing through your blood. eventually daryl pulled you steadily by the hair, lifting you off his chest, “need ta see yer face,” he rasped, husky voice leaving you even more of a crumbling mess.

you bit your lip and gripped daryl’s shoulders to steady yourself and ultimately keep you from cumming right then. he took notice in your desperate fucked out state and slowed his thrusts. the cigarette in his mouth was almost down to a nub, so he took one last puff and let the smoke bombard both of your glistening bodies, then tossed it to the ground.

“i gotcha. ‘m gonna—“ he released a heaving groan, his voice giving out from the way your tight walls clenched around him. “‘m gonna fuckin’ cum in ya if ya don’ stop tha’”

your mind was hazy, legs trembling around his waist, ready to release yourself onto his bulging member that greedily fucked your hole.

“please, daryl!” your eyes brimming with tears, the sensations swallowing you whole. sweat dripped from the bangs that hung over his eyes, and under the dim glow of the firepit you could see in his eyes that he was ready for release.

daryl brought a hand down to pinch your clit. “go ‘head, cum f’me ya dirty girl.” and that was all you needed to hear in order to spill out all over his cock, making a wet mess in his lap. his hand reached back to your mouth, muffling your whimpers to ensure no walkers would barge in on the lewd scene you two were creating. soon he pulled your slick folds off his cock so that he could release his load onto your stomach.

the two of you were a sweating huffing hot mess. “wow, dixon.” you brushed the sweaty hair away from your face, “didn’t really think you’d actually fuck me on your precious bike.” you slung a leg over the motorcycle, feet hitting the leafy forest floor and bent down to ruffle through your bag for a cloth to wipe your stomach with.

daryl’s eyes followed your body. “couldn’t help it.”

you smirked, knowing you truly won if daryl dixon actually allowed you on his bike, let alone fuck your brains out on it.

hastily he grabbed your hips and forced you back onto his lap, another cigarette already somehow magically lit up in his mouth. “sit down, i ain’t got to hear bout yer day.”

you would call this an ideal evening — one which continued with you blabbering on endlessly while daryl admired your presence and the comfort of your thighs on his lap.

perhaps he’d end up going for a round two later.

☾₊˚ ༘⋆

[dixons-sunshine]

js read your shopping spree and dying for your haircut fics and omg

can u pretty please, with a bow on top, write another part to that series or like an au where they get separated at the fall of the world and a few season later (preferably that prison era of daryl he was so fawking sexy there like omg) they found each other again and i want some build up to their reunion yk like someone else finds r and brings them in and some ppl kinda chatting abt the new girl or wtv and dars not rlly gaf cuz he kinda getting tired of trying to find r (realistically i don’t think he’d give up easily but let’s js pretend yk) but then they see each other and they’re like omfg the love of my life’s here and safe and like i need that glenn and maggie type reunion but like tenfold bc r and dar alr loved and knew each other before the fall yk and like yeah😣

idky but i’m a sucker for “r and daryl had a relationship beforehand, got separated, and reunited” trope (?) fic, blurb shit and you’d literally be godsent if u wrote this oml

I Found You | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When the dead started to rise and the world went to hell, Daryl got seperated from you, the love of his life. After over a year of searching for you and finding no evidence of your survival, Daryl was beginning to give up and count his losses. One day, Carol stumbled upon a wounded woman while out on a run with Glenn, and the two of them decide to accept you into the prison. Little did they know, that would end up being one of the best decisions they could've ever made.

Genre: Angst to fluff.

Era: Prison, pre season 4, post season 3.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, death, mentions of attempted sexual assault (not descriptive)

Word count: 4.3k

A/n: Thank you so much for the request! I've decided to write the au since there's already a part three for the SSHD (Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams) universe in the works, but this request was way too good to not write. I hope you like it! And I absolutely agree with you. There's something about prison era Daryl that just hits different. He was on another level completely.

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests.

(Just thought I'd say that both third- and second person is used. I referred to the reader in third  person when Glenn and Carol first met her, but it soon shifts to second person when she introduced herself. Just thought I'd let y'all know the shift is intentional.)

—

“Okay, so I can't guess what you did before all of this correctly, but I bet there is something that I will be right about.”

Daryl looked at Zach skeptically as they trudged through the abandoned store, looking for supplies to bring back to the prison. “Yeah? Wha's tha'?”

“You're brooding, quiet, you like to keep to yourself,” Zach started, leaning nonchalantly against one of the shelves while he watched the archer place multiple different packs and boxes into his bag. “The way you act most of the time would suggest you've never been in a relationship before, but there are clear signs that you were with someone before all of this.”

Daryl stiffened for a moment, his hand lingering above a pack, before regaining his composure and continuing his task. “Wha' signs?”

“Well, for one, you know exactly what kind of tampons and pads to get for the ladies at the prison. I would've just dumped everything in and have them sort through it, but you are only taking specific brands,” Zach pointed out, motioning to the box of tampons Daryl had just put back onto the shelf.

When Daryl didn't reply, Zach took that as his cue to continue. “And while we're on the topic of periods, you seem to know exactly what to get the girls for the pain and what to do to curve their bad tempers. What guy would know that if he didn't have a girlfriend before all of this? And to top it all off, and this is totally unrelated to everything I just said, I've seen that locket necklace you keep in your pocket. It's pretty worn out and faded, but you can definitely tell it's something from this generation, so it can't be something that was passed down from a relative, so that brings me to my conclusion. You, Daryl Dixon, had a girl before all of this.”

Daryl sighed, shutting his eyes tightly as he willed the onslaught of memories away. Memories that were too painful to think of, memories that did nothing but remind the archer of his failure. His failure at finding you, the love of his life, after the dead started walking. A failure he had to live with for as long as he remained alive.

Daryl opened his eyes and turned abruptly, leaving the young man behind him as he stalked towards the exit, his bag slung over his shoulder. Zach hurriedly caught up to him, struggling to keep at a steady pace beside him as Daryl strode quickly, wanting to put some distance between him and Zach.

“Woah, man! Slow down!” Zach complained, jogging to keep up with him. “Was it because I brought up the girl thing? I didn't realise it was a touchy subject.”

“It ain't none of yer damn business,” Daryl grumbled under his breath, stalking over to the truck him and Zach were using that day.

“Daryl! Come on, man. It's not that deep.”

Daryl gritted his teeth as he opened up the driver's side door of the truck, throwing his bag into the back before climbing inside. He started up the truck and revved the engine, a warning sign to Zach that he was about to leave, with or without him.

Zach hurriedly scurried into the passenger seat, barely having time to close the door before Daryl started speeding off. He gripped the edge of his seat, sending Daryl an exasperated look.

“Daryl, what the hell? Calm down!” he exclaimed, unnerved by the archer's sudden burst of fury. He'd seen Daryl angry before, but it was never directed towards him. It was downright scary.

“'M calm,” Daryl replied through gritted teeth, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“That's what you call calm?!” Zach exclaimed, motioning out towards the road. “You're driving like a maniac! Slow down!”

Daryl simply ignored the man, keeping his eyes trained on the road. Memories of you unwillingly flooded his mind. Memories of your smile, your laugh and your beautiful eyes. Memories of the calm mornings you'd spend with the archer in your shared sad excuse for an apartment where the hot water was a joke. Memories where you'd both stand under the cold water of the shower, Daryl embracing you from behind in an attempt to make the cold water bearable for you. Memories of your loving touch on his skin, your fingers lightly tracing over the scars on his back as you whispered reassuring things into his ear, assuring him that his father's abuse had nothing to do with him, that it wasn't his fault that any of that happened to him.

The more Daryl's mind wandered, the more he remembered some of the bad memories. All those arguments you had with him over some of his escapades with Merle, telling him that it would only get him into trouble, flooded his mind. One of those arguments ended up being the reason he got seperated from you in the first place.

Merle had wanted to go do some drug deal and had barged into your apartment, practically dragging Daryl from your bed. You had begged him not to go, arguing with him that it was a bad idea and that something would go wrong this time. He remembered being so angry at you for insisting during that argument that Merle wasn't good for him, that he needed to cut back on seeing him or set some boundaries with him. He had stormed out of the apartment without so much as a goodbye, and now he regretted it more than he's regretted anything before in his life.

Daryl blamed himself daily for not having listened to you that day. If he had, he never would've been seperated from you and you would've been safe by his side. He longed to have you by his side again, to tell you that he was sorry and that he loved you. However, even after all this time of searching, going out for extended periods of time to look for signs of you, it was to no avail. You were gone, and it was all his fault.

“Daryl? Are... you okay?”

Daryl snapped back to reality at the sound of Zach's concerned voice. He felt a droplet of water roll down his cheek and he hurriedly wiped it away, realising that he was crying. He hadn't even realised that tears had started to well up in his eyes, so immersed was he in his own thoughts.

“'M fine,” Daryl insisted, wiping his eyes hurriedly as he willed the tears away.

Zach furrowed his eyebrows, before realisation dawned on him. “You did have a girl before all of this. You lost her, didn't you?” he asked sympathetically.

Daryl hesitantly nodded, swallowing in an attempt to get rid of the lump in his throat. “I didn't lose her,” he began, bringing the truck to a halt in front of the prison gates as he waited for someone to open them.

“I don't know if she's even dead at all. She's just... Gone.”

—

“What are we looking for, exactly?” Glenn asked Carol as they scanned over the shelving of an abandoned pharmacy, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Carol sighed as she looked upon yet another empty shelf, its medical contents a thing of the past. “Anything medical. With all the new people we've been taking in, the supplies we have aren't going to be enough.”

“Okay,” Glenn drawled hesitantly. “But it doesn't look like there's anything worth scavenging here.”

“Let's just do a once over before we check the back. If there's nothing, we head on back. It's getting late,” Carol instructed. Glenn nodded, and the two of them dispersed to sweep through the small store once more.

“So,” Glenn started. “Is it just me, or has Daryl been more grumpy than usual?”

Carol hummed in agreement. “He has. He gets angry at the smallest of things lately.”

“Do you know why?”

“No,” Carol said, shaking her head. “I've asked him, but he won't say anything. Just tells me to mind my own business. It's really odd. He's more like he was back at the quarry. More closed off and snappy and I don't know why.”

“It's ever since he came back from that run with Zach a week ago,” Glenn replied, meeting up with the Carol again to go into the back room. “I've asked Zach if he knows why, but he refused to say anything. Says it's not his place to say.”

Carol frowned, opening the door that lead into the back room. “That's odd. So that means something—”

“Stay right there. Don't move another inch or I swear to god I'll shoot.”

Both Carol and Glenn froze in their tracks. They looked up and locked eyes with a woman, who's eyes were fiery as they darted between them.

“Names. Now. And weapons on the ground.”

“Okay, alright,” Carol responded, trying to diffuse the situation. She slowly lowered her gun and knife to the ground, urging Glenn to do the same. “I'm Carol, and this is Glenn. Now before we answer anymore questions, what's your name?”

The woman hesitated for a moment. “Y/n. What are you doing here?”

“We were looking for some supplies,” Carol spoke truthfully, eyeing the gun aimed at her carefully. “We're running low on medical things.”

After a couple of long, tense moments, with you scanning them from head to toe, you nodded to yourself after spotting something. Deciding to trust them for now, you slowly lowered the gun. However, you quietly hissed in pain, quickly clutching your side as you stumbled to regain your balance. After you steadied yourself, you limped over to your bag and grabbed a few things before handing them over to Carol and Glenn.

“Here. Hope these help. The place was ransacked when I got here. Wasn't a lot left to clear out.”

“Thank you, but we need more than this. This isn't going to last us long,” Carol responded, placing the items into her bag.

“No offence, lady, but I think I need the supplies more than you do at the moment. And I gave you more than half already. I can't spare more,” you said, clutching your side tightly.

“What happened?” Glenn asked, pointing to the your side, unable to stop his curiosity from seeping through.

“Flesh eaters,” you replied nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders. “I was fighting a bunch of them when one lunged at me from the side. It toppled me through a broken window, and a shard sliced me.”

“Don't you have a group? Couldn't they help you?” Glenn questioned.

“Nope. I've been on my own since this whole thing started. I guess I should probably find a group, though. Things like this wouldn't happen if I had backup.”

You gingerly lifted your shirt, and both Carol and Glenn grimaced at the painful sight. The wound was deep and oozing blood. It would definitely need stitches, as well as someone to remove the remaining fragments of glass that still painfully stuck out of the wound. It was terrible. You wouldn't be able to get it all out without a professional.

Suddenly, an idea struck Carol. “You gave us some of the supplies you scavenged without even knowing us. Why?”

“Well, you didn't try to kill me, even after I held you at gunpoint. And by the looks of it, you guys have a group and are set up somewhere. Figured I should do the honourable thing and offer up some medical things if there's kids involved.”

“How do you know there's kids?” Glenn asked, confused.

“I can see the toys in your bag,” you pointed out, motioning to the toy truck that stuck out of the top of his bag. “Figured that adults wouldn't be playing with toy trucks while the world was ending.”

“Still, why would you? You don't owe us anything,” Carol questioned, though her mind was already set on one thing.

“Some might call me naive, but I hope that by doing some good in this fucked up world, karma will decide to do something good for me. That probably makes me stupid as shit, huh?” you replied, laughing before wincing at the pain that shot through your side at the small action.

Carol smiled at you. “We have a group set up not too far from here, at the prison. You can join if you want, but you have to answer three questions first.”

You raised your eyebrows at her. “Three questions? That's it?”

“Yeah.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Alright, shoot.”

“How many walkers have you killed?” Carol began, watching you closely.

“A lot. Too many to keep track of at this point.”

“How many people have you killed?”

You hesitated for a moment, guilt creeping up on you. “Three.”

“Why?”

“Two of them were bit. They asked me to kill them. The other one... That bastard tried to rape me. I wouldn't let him.”

“I'm sorry,” Glenn said sympathetically.

“It's fine. I'm fine,” you waved him off, before turning your attention back to Carol. “How'd I do? Satisfactory enough?”

Carol nodded. “For me, yes. You'll still need to meet the leader and have him evaluate you, but I think you'll be alright. You'll fit in just fine.”

“Hopefully,” you laughed nervously, instantly paying the price for it with a sharp pain shooting up your side, making you visibly wince.

“Come on, let's get going. We have a doctor who can get that checked out for you,” Glenn prompted. He walked over to you and grabbed your bag, stopping your protest instantly. “It's fine, I've got it. One extra bag won't kill me.”

Together, all of you made your way out of the pharmacy and over to their car. You got settled in the back while Carol and Glenn got into the front, and before long you were setting off to the prison. Your eyes were beginning to droop, but Glenn seemed eager to get to know the new recruit better.

“What were you doing out there on your own anyway?”

“I was looking for my boyfriend. I was hoping that he might still be alive.”

“No luck?” he asked.

“No,” you shook your head, pursing your lips. “I'm beginning to think I might never find him, if he's even still alive.”

“Never say never,” Glenn encouraged you. “You'll find him someday, I know it.”

“I really hope so.”

—

“Have you seen that new chick Glenn and Carol brought back? She's a real looker.”

“I know, right? You think she's into blondes?”

“Even if she was, I doubt she'd go for your scrawny ass.”

“Easy, boys. She might not even be into guys. I could have a shot with her for all you know.”

Daryl groaned inwardly as he entered the cellblock. The new girl that Glenn and Carol brought in the day before was seemingly the hottest topic of discussion amongst everyone and he couldn't escape it, no matter where he tried to run to. Nobody, apart from Glenn, Carol, Rick and Hershel have officially met her, yet everybody had seemingly already formed an opinion about her. Although there were a lot of different opinions, everyone seemingly agreed on one thing; the new girl was hotter than hell.

Daryl was the only guy in the entire prison that hadn't seen her yet. He was out hunting when Carol and Glenn brought her back and he hasn't bothered to go out of his way to introduce himself to her ever since he got back. He'd meet her soon enough and he wasn't hoping to make friends with her. The more people he managed to keep at arm's length, the better.

“Yo, Daryl. What do you think about the new chick?” a guy called Mitchell asked him, snapping him from his thoughts.

Daryl shrugged. “Ain't met her yet,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay, but have you seen her?” another guy called Ronnie asked. “I'm telling you, man, hotter than the sun on a summer day. I'm hoping she'll let me hit at least once.”

“How 'bout ya leave the poor girl alone?” Daryl snapped, turning to face the group that was walking with him. “She ain't even been here two days and y'all are already ogling her like she's some prize to be won. Have some more respect.”

“Jeez,” Mitchell whistled. “What's got your panties up in a bunch?”

“Nothin',” Daryl muttered angrily, turning around to walk further into the cellblock. “Jus' wanna get this fuckin' job done and all y'all can do is yap 'bout some girl ya dun' even know properly. I dun' give two flyin' shits 'bout who or wha' ya talk 'bout, but do it after the job's done. Y'all ain't free loadin' here. Do yer job, earn yer keep.”

“Sorry,” a girl called Ariana muttered, sending him an apologetic look. “What do you need us to do?”

“Take those planks over there and take em to the guard tower. Rick wants to fortify it and wants it done by the end of the week.”

“What are you gonna do?” Ronnie asked, crossing his arms as he sized Daryl up.

Daryl glared at him and squared his shoulders, looking down on his shorter, scrawny frame. “Hershel needs help with somethin'. I believe ya can understand tha' if the doctor needs somethin' done, it's considered top priority?”

Ronnie shrunk under Daryl's intense glare, nodding quickly. “Yeah, of course.”

“Great.”

With that, Daryl turned on his heel and set off to find Hershel. He didn't have to search far, however, because Hershel halted him before he could go outside.

“Daryl, over here,” the old man called after him, halting him in his tracks.

Daryl turned and walked over to Hershel, nodding at him respectfully. “Wha' ya need, Doc?”

“I'm sure you've heard of the girl Carol and Glenn brought back yesterday by now?” Hershel questioned, chuckling at the slight groan Daryl emitted.

“Who hasn't? Apparently she's really good lookin'. Her looks has been all people has to say 'bout her.”

Hershel nodded. “Unfortunately, that is true. Only Rick, Glenn, Carol and myself has had the pleasure of meeting her personally up until this point. She's a lovely woman. Had no problem that there wasn't anything to ease the pain when I had to stitch her side and she's more than willing to get up and start working to earn her keep. She won't be able to for at least another day or so since her side needs to heal up a bit first, but Carol and Glenn did good with bringing her back. She'll fit right in.”

“Good,” Daryl nodded. “She a good fighter?”

“From what I understand, she's been out on her own since the beginning. She's not dead yet, so I'd say she's alright,” Hershel replied, adjusting on his crutches.

“Alrigh', now enough 'bout her. Wha' did ya need me to do?”

Hershel gave him an encouraging pat on the back, confusing the archer. “You're going to be one of the very few people who gets to say they met the new girl for the next couple of days. I was hoping you could help her fix her bunk? One of the legs on the bunk broke and she's dead set on repairing it. She won't let me help because she keeps insisting I've done enough for her, so I told her I would send someone else to help. She'll be expecting you.”

Daryl pursed his lips but nodded, parting ways with the older man. He walked over to the cell that Hershel had pointed towards and stopped at the doorway, hesitating to make his presence known.

You had your back turned towards the door, hunched over as you inspected the leg of the bunk. You weren't aware of the archer that stood a few feet behind you, engrossed entirely in your own thoughts. That was, until he spoke up behind you.

“Hey. Hershel said ya needed help?”

You froze at the voice, willing the supposed hallucination away. You slowly rose to your feet and turned, locking eyes with the one person you've been searching for since the world went to hell—your boyfriend, Daryl Dixon.

The moment Daryl locked eyes with you, a whirlwind of emotions flooded his being. Relief, love, happiness, wonder, sadness, confusion and so much more that he couldn't decipher. Although his first instinct was to wrap you in his arms and never let go of you again, he hesitated, refusing to believe you were real. He took a step back, his eyes wide as he looked at you.

You stared back at him with equal amounts of disbelief. You took a hesitant step forward. “Daryl?” you whispered. The man in front of you looked slightly different; a little bit older and his hair was longer, but there was no mistaking it. The man in front of you was Daryl.

Daryl remained silent, his eyes locked on you as you continued to take agonizingly slow steps towards him. He watched as you stopped in front of him and hesitantly raised your hand, bringing it to rest on his cheek. Daryl instantly melted into your familiar soft touch, and that was all the confirmation he needed. Without another thought, he gently grabbed you and pulled you into his arms, tightly clinging to you as he pressed multiple kisses to the top of your head.

“Yer real,” he whispered, a laugh of amazement falling from his lips. “Yer real. Yer alive. Yer actually still alive.”

You laughed quietly against his chest as you held onto him tightly, never wanting to let go ever again. Your laughter soon turned into sobs, tears of relief and happiness falling from your eyes.

“I thought I'd never see you again,” you whispered through your tears, burying your face into his chest. “I thought you were dead, Dar.”

“'M here,” he whispered into your ear, a few tears of his own falling from his eyes. “'M alive. Yer alive. 'M never lettin' ya go ever again. 'M sorry I ever left tha' day in the first place.��

“It's okay. I'm sorry, too. I never should've asked you to cut Merle out of your life. He's your brother. It was unreasonable of me.”

“Nah, it wasn't,” he denied, placing another gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Ya were jus' lookin' out fer me. I never shoulda gotten mad at ya in the first place.”

“Let bygones be bygones?” you whispered against his chest.

Daryl chuckled before nodding. “Yeah, of course.”

The two of you held onto each other for a couple of moments longer until you pulled back. Daryl was about to voice his protest until you pressed your lips against his in an urgent kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms settled on your waist, pulling you closer into him as he kissed you back. There was no lustful hunger behind the kiss—there was only love and longing, two broken parts finally reuniting and mending together as one.

Daryl pulled back and placed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. “I missed ya so much,” he whispered, willing the lump in his throat to go away.

“I missed you too. More than you even know,” you replied, cupping Daryl's cheek with one of your hands. “But I found you. I finally found you.”

Daryl leaned into your touch before turning his head to kiss the palm of your hand. However, he soon pulled away from you and strode over to your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.

“C'mon,” he said, taking your hand in his as he pulled you to walk beside him.

“Where are we going?” you questioned, falling into step beside the man you loved.

“There ain't no need fer ya to sleep in there. Yer gonna sleep with me in my cell,” Daryl said simply, pulling you along to his cell.

You giggled but said nothing, silently following him into his cell. When he placed your bags down on the floor, Daryl placed a soft kiss on your lips before stalking out of the cell.

“Where are you going?” you called after him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“'M gonna find tha' prick who objectified ya and teach him a lesson. Yer hot as fuck, yes, that much I can accept people sayin', but Ronnie implied he wanted to sleep with ya outrigh'. He's really gonna regret sayin' tha' in a few moments. Dun' even try to talk me outta it.”

“Hey, Dar?” you called after him, halting him in his tracks. “I love you.”

Daryl smiled at you. “I definitely love ya more.”

[me-uglypretty]

my brother's wife

Pairing:  Carol Danvers x F!Reader

Summary: Carol faces the conflict of war, and the love of her life or more accurately, the sister of a man she married.

Warning: (18+), fluff, mention of battle/war | 4k words

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The most confident, bravest, strongest, and coolest hero—spoken with enthusiasm by the honest words of Kamala Khan—was revealed as the heavily adored Princess of Aladna. Captain Marvel, a genuine royalty among her cheerful people. A princess that roused such joy and smiles from those around the symphonic planet.

“That’s so cool! You’re a princess!” Kamala had exclaimed after the moment of revelation had passed. “Oh my god, my favourite…my idol…my captain is also a princess,” she mumbled to herself, eyes widening at each word, and the absolute look of shock on her face when she stared adoringly at Carol.

On the other side, Monica appeared equally bewildered of the infamous hero’s newly revealed title. Carol tried relaying the reasons for her status at the planet, and only received teasing remarks that made her both annoyed and flush at their comical reactions.

Distraction soon arises for the two to further their teasing when the music begun playing. Aladna’s adored couple, the prince and princes dancing together dreamily, voices blending into the other to spoken words of a coming war.

Prince Yan was quick with his reaction, immediately directing them towards a guest room to prepare themselves for battle. Furthering their planning as he spoke privately with Carol then dismissing himself as the three were left assembling their own plan of action for Dar-Benn’s attack.

However, their conversation came to a halt when hushed voices were heard from outside their room. The sounds had diverted their attention towards the closed door, several seconds passed before the wide door was pushed open forcefully and someone entered in a rushed manner, scaring both Monica and Kamala while Carol merely reacted to the sudden intrusion.

“You’re here,” was spoken first, voice conveying brazen anger and eyes staring straight into those visibly cowering. “And you brought guest.”

Carol had flinched. Those words fell harshly from a mouth always sounding so sweet, someone she missed dearly and greatly from the unpleasant time apart. But when her own wide eyes met those orbs seemingly glimmering in pure wrath—she had smiled, dissolved was the sudden fear of what may happened, forgotten was the war that would soon arrive.

It was you, wasn’t it?

Why wouldn’t Carol smile at the sight of you?

It’s foolish to simply overlook the clear irritation on your face, but Carol had always reacted as foolishly possible when it came to you. Her eyes linger on your form, trailing from the strict look on your face to the hues of your clothes that appeared different from the occupants of Aladna. A sort of darkness looms in tinge of yellow, surely making you recognisable in the crowd. Though, that was undoubtedly the truth when you appeared in any places. A beauty like yours, and Carol crumbles at the sight.

You were there. Carol was there. A border that separated two was the upcoming war. Perhaps, it was the continuous voices that sang to their hearts desire, rarely disturbed by anger and unlike how a certain flair of anger seems stuck on your face.

But you’re…you.

“Why…why is Carol smiling?” Kamala whispered, nudging her elbow to Monica’s side at the question. The oldest between two simply shrugged, far too invested to know of her aunt’s new drama.

It was true. Carol was smiling at the sight of you, a stranger simply stood by the closed door. Hands fisted by your side, a frown settled deep on your face as your eyebrows furrowed and round eyes stared in her direction, anger that seems to slip gradually into confusion as your eyes examined the strangers in the room. Then, almost as if the realisation had settled when you noticed the younger girl, your glare was fixed back on Carol with madden intensity.

Carol cleared her throat first, mouth parted to say something then deciding on approaching you instead. “I know what you’re going to say—”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

Those words carried an unpleasant silence through the thickening tension. Carol’s approach was blocked as you swerve around her and walked towards the two guests.

Kamala takes an uncertain step back, seemingly pressing her body closer to Monica. Her wide eyes, those pools of soft brown swirls with an expression of fear, confusion, and adoration.

You lifted your fisted hand, extending towards Kamala and revealed a piece of pink candy in your palm. The puzzled look on her face fades seconds as she accepted the candy and uttered a soft thank you. After the minimal interaction, you glance towards the older woman stood beside her. Monica doesn’t offer a smile of any sort as your eyes squints at her like you found her familiar, before nodding your head at her.

“If you need anything, let me know. I’ll be waiting outside this room,” you stated sternly and spun around to make an exit.

Carol’s hand almost reached for yours but dropped by her side with a tired sigh as a hand was raised in her direction, silencing her from uttering anything else. The warning look remained on your face as you opened the door and closed it behind you.

It was almost too quiet till the sound of soft steps reached Carol’s side.

A hum was followed by the question, “So…who was that?”

Carol seemed to had awaken from her swirling thoughts. The clear curiosity was on Kamala and Monica’s face, neither gathering a reasonable answer for the slightly awkward and entirely too conflicted situation. The oldest of them had choose to ignore the questions looming in utter confusion and gestured for them to prepare for the upcoming battle.

It's you, it’s her, and it’s time she set aside her personal matters for the sake of their safety.

Out of the various disastrous occurrence, you weren’t prepared for the forced warfare in your peaceful planet. A home that was always glowing in hues of bright colours, people sharing the sounds of their love and embracing each other tenderly. Despite the conflict that arise at some point that made you dim, it was nothing alike the beliefs that your parents had taught you, and it wasn’t alike the absolute chaos you had witness.

Now, you were stood by the window that exhibited a view of the unexplored galaxy and you were fuming at the sight. A single foot taps rhythmically on the metal flooring, it was a song that your mother used to sing when nights were far too dark and worry expands in your chest. The kind of agony that carried forward as you grew older and when you were forced into the space ship with her.

It's for the best, your brother had claimed and pushed your body towards the hovering ship. The best of his decision was questioned in sake for you or for him. You assumed the latter was the obvious answer.

“How are you doing?” the tender voice asked and instantly, you smelled the slightly burnt aroma that carried through the air. “Coffee?” was offered soon after with a friendly smile.

When you accepted the offer, instantly did the warmth from the mug spreads to the width of your palms. A soft hum resonates through your throat as you sipped the bitter drink tentatively, the warmth doesn’t settle the ache in your chest but offer a sort of comfort from the chill that surrounds the unaccustomed space.

A gentle whisper of a thank you, and seconds after, your gaze met those of dark brown eyes swirling with sympathy.

“We weren’t formally introduced…but I’m Monica,” she introduced herself after offering the beverage. “That’s Kamala,” she pointed her thumb back, and you followed her gaze towards the young girl sat at the edge of the desk, kicking her feet absently then waving shyly in greeting at realisation that the attention had diverted to her.

You nodded your head first, followed by the confession that seemingly pulled her attention entirely on you. “I know…you,” and timid smile was revealed on your face.

Monica’s eyes seemingly widen at the revelation, eyebrows furrowed and mouth parted with questions lingering in her mind since your appearance. A taunting sense that hasn’t provided her with an idea of you.

Though, the wanting conversation was abruptly stopped by sounds of metal clattering to the ground, echoing throughout the shared space. Grumbles of sort was heard moments after, and Monica smiled, an apology lingering at the tip of her tongue as she hastily walked towards the urgent noise.

It left you alone, or at least, with the youngest among them.

Kamala’s face settled with an expression of utter concentration, the lines over her eyebrows more prominent as she squints her eyes and in return, you followed the reaction that seems to flutter out of nowhere. A moment shared between two at an hour that wasn’t great to neither, and it was the sign of a slight smile curling at her lips that warmth your heart. The commenced of a staring contest that you knew of well, a game that you had experienced with the children of Aladna.

It takes approximately ten seconds after that your façade dissolved into a smile that pulled at the muscles of your cheeks and laughter which carried happily in the air. Kamala snorted at the reaction, almost dropping the bowl of snacks in her hands from her uncontrollable laughter.

The rush of innocence in that moment, grasped at your heart and hers, which later you assumed. It seemed foreign to experience something so childlike. Life had become nothing but a period of attending to trivial occasions or listening to orders that enforced your presence far from significant discourses. The thought itself makes you feel strange. Did life really succumb into such dullness? If so, and life has truly met the worst then was that why a young child like her had become intertwined with a growing war?

Few minutes after, when neither you or Kamala was at the start of another childlike act, the young girl made a sound alike a hum.

“I like your scarf,” Kamala pointed out, her head nodding towards the fabric that was tired firmly around your wrist. “It’s pretty…like you,” she added faintly as a shy smile appeared on her face.

The mention of said scarf; an iridescence like maroon fabric which surface is scattered with a phrasing that looked faded, and the seams of the fabric was woven with embroidery of flowers in shade of gold and silver. It was one of the many fabrics made in your home planet, though, this article of clothing carried a significant meaning.

It's special, you would explain as a conclusion.

You placed the coffee in your possession by the window before untying the scarf around your wrist. Taking gentle steps forward, a tender smile curls at your lips as you glance at the fabric in your hand then meeting Kamala’s curious gaze. “Here, you can have it,” you said, and waited for the young girl to extend her hand.

A soft gasp was heard when the scarf was entirely in her touch. The sudden glow that resurfaced wasn’t unusual as you smiled at the sight. It was always a special fabric, and you believed that—Kamala is even more special.

“It’s glowing! Oh my…” she exclaimed, excitement seemingly losing an understand of what she was saying as you chuckled at her reaction. “Really?” she asked, after settling with a wide grin on her face. “Thank you!” she rushed to warp her arms around you as returned the show of affection.

“It’s a special scarf,” you spoke fondly of it. “Promised to guide in time of trouble…” you briefly explained, and witness the young girl inspecting the scarf intriguingly then her eyes, round and wide, stared into yours with questions that you waved off. “No, it’s not going to help you in every situation. It comes and goes, you’ll feel it when it does,” you wiggled your hands to emphasis it’s magic.

You wouldn’t exactly utter the word of magic. It’s not a trick. It’s just, that, something special and only worthy to those of pure heart.

“What’s that?”

The question was rushed, hand grasping your wrist that was once tied with a scarf. It doesn’t occur to you of Kamala’s sudden interest till the next question dropped from her mouth in utter surprise.

“Is that a glowing tattoo?”

You hastily pulled your hand away, and feign obliviousness as you shrugged. “Don’t know.”

The lie that slips from your tongue feels customary. It was a part of you that you hid well. The very emblem that stirred your chest with such rage, waiting for moments after another to erupt in sheer bloody wrath, and express the very notion that made you feel lost. At that same instant, where those feelings roused in such situation, the reason appeared in lurid steps.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Carol’s voice carried warmly through and her body inched closer, while yours visibly retreated with a livid scowl on your face.

Carol has always been the reason.

And there, she crossed her arms. “Are you serious? You’re still mad about what happened?”

Anger flash in your eyes, widening in sheer frustration and irritation. All those crimson flush that seems obvious to her, and you hoped for the least that she reconsiders her next choice of words. You take that step first, forcing your body into her proximity. A single finger pointed at the centre of her chest as you spoke the next line in blazing fury and in a tone that surely left everyone close stunned.

“No. You don’t get it, Carol. You got the prosperous ending with my brother, the chance to leave and continue your beautiful life in space. You had that, just pick up everything and leave to your lonesome like you always do,” you glance around her space ship to emphasise her isolation. “But I didn’t. I faced the backlash for not choosing the right person, for not— you promised that it will always be me and you.”

The breath released after your admission, it pulled at your chest and settled a heavy there. It doesn’t improve when your eyes started into hers, those spheres that you once compared to the sun.

Carol—she was the person you fell so hopelessly for—and she felt that same too, at those hours spend conversing of everything to nothing. You were sure of it. Those eyes of light brown held a heavenly like adoration for you. The mundane act of life, where her hands always find yours or the crimson flush on her cheeks when your hand rest firmly on her thigh. Carol always held a look in her eyes that others would express of how you perceive said person who painted the starts specifically for you, only someone loves you truly would go beyond to achieve that.

She speaks of it too, the love that she holds for purely for you. It was never doubt that she would have seize every colour in the universe for you. The promise that sealed her lips over yours at the first night you presumed her as another space adventurer. She wasn’t, that she swore upon.

It was love. You were confident of it.

Why must she had done everything against it?

You haven’t found the answers. Carol had left you abandoned while you still saw her face everywhere you turn and your brother’s satisfied smile at the mention of his wife.

It wasn’t fair to you—to your aching heart that stayed, still waiting for the glow of the night to appear and to see her smile. You waited for Carol every night till your mind settled with an end.

She could never settle herself for something permanent.

“You have always been so good at leaving, Carol Danvers,” you uttered with finality, and immediately walked away from her.

Pretence slips instantly. You ignored the look of disappointment on Monica’s face or the sounds of shock from Kamala at the revelation. Life was always like this; pretend, speak of every hurt, and pretend again.

Carol acknowledged the mistakes she made from the first that she remembers to the expense of the last. It takes saving the world with such reckless actions before and after, and the most horrible parts of it for her to finally understand. It was the same route that leads for another mistake.

Her heart ached with knowing that neither could compare to the shame that bathe her at leaving you in such state, and the absolute betrayal of accepting the marriage proposed by your brother. It was a documented act to solve a conflict. Merely an act, a performance for the politics that blurred heavily between social construct of Aladna and the heir of the throne.

“She’s very angry with you,” Kamal mumbled nonchalantly which ultimately directed Carol’s attention to her. “But she’s very pretty…” she trailed, momentarily getting distracted by the transparent screen which possessed classified information. “Actually, I think every beautiful woman…hates you,” and with that, she gasped dramatically at the realisation.

Carol argued with the brewing thoughts in the younger girl’s mind. “That’s not— stop, not every woman hates me.”

“Okay,” Kamila answered sarcastically. The utter shock of seeing her idol had fade into confidence if she was speaking like this without a worry, and it kind of made Carol wish back for the early stages of meeting Kamala.

A tired sigh emits from her throat, her hand brushed the blonde strains that fell to her forehead. “Kamala, she doesn’t hate me.”

Kamala scoffed at the statement. Carol’s eyebrows furrowed, and she titled her head, a look that made the younger girl raise her hand in surrender. It was followed by soft mumbles of apologies.

“She’s not happy with me right now, and I understand her,” Carol claimed, confidence wavering at each word after the tense and one-sided conversation with you. “Anyway, why do you even think that?” she questioned, before pushing the younger girl’s hand from messing with the buttons close by, and a cheeky smile soon resurfaced on her face.

“Because she gave me her scarf, she helped before and after the fight, she’s really nice…then you appeared and suddenly, I feel like a child of divorce…” Kamala expressed with a pout.

Carol’s mouth parted in shock, open and closing as though she was trying to comprehend the way to breath or find a suitable way to response. Ultimately at her speechlessness, Carol huffed and turned around, swiftly leaving the young girl giggling in her dismissal of the subject.

How could Kamala have assumed that, as if, the relationship shared between two was obvious to everyone. Carol knew you enough and that served as the only motive as search for you in the space ship.

It hasn’t left her mind since the night she had left. The circulating questions on if your brother was aware of the relationship that brew between you and her. Did the proposal of marriage arise after knowing the truth or was it proposed at the state of unknown?

Then she heard your voice, reaching her ears to where her mind drones the questions and her chest soothe with a warmth from a voice she had missed. You sounded so you, so gentle, so affectionate, and so unliked the voice that spat angrily in her direction.

You were sat by the monitors with Monica. A conversation flowing easily between two people who had never met before this. Carol was careful as she stood behind the wall, enough to stay hidden and still eavesdrop which she knew was a bad thing, but she couldn’t hinder her curiosity.

“Carol talk about you,” was the revelation that shifted Monica’s attention entirely onto you and deserting the classified information she was reading through. “There was so many stories that it felt like I knew you…but you’re obviously not a kid anymore and I don’t think your Aunt Carol had accepted that yet,” you teased at the end, resulting in chuckles from the other women.

“Our relationship feels weird,” Monica admitted, a sort of comfort disclosed in her posture as she shared her thoughts with you. “It’s been years since I last saw her and…” she paused with a tired sigh.

You nodded your head understandingly. “Regardless of what had happened in the past, I know very well that Carol misses you and she loves you so much,” your hand rested comfortingly on Monica’s arm as you continued, “I really do believe that she wants to try and make this better.”

The conversation fades into the background when Carol turned away from it. After all she had done, the absolute heartbreak that was vivid in your eyes, and you still spoke of her so kindly with someone sharing the same angry for her leaving. It wouldn’t make sense if someone else heard this, but Carol knows your compassion goes beyond.

You were rooting for her relationship with Monica to heal. It felt like your anger as fated at her, but never around what she was for everyone else.

Carol wishes and hopes that she could have the chance to fix the mess she created, and to hear your voice speak sweet to her.

The feeling of something horrible occurring—that ache which drew the most horrifying scream from your chest, your throat burns from the sheer strength it took, your hands trembling, your eyes blurry as tears shed—and the aftermath of it.

To witness someone, not just anyone, but the love of your life confined in a battle that doesn’t present an idea of who would survive. To ready your heart for the worse rather than the good, as the later hasn’t transpired for years, and you were always expecting the worse when it was intertwined with you.

Carol was, is intertwined with you.

The reality of a dreadful battle had disregarded the resentment which stirred in your chest at the sheer mention of her. Betrayal of such, wasn’t promised forgiveness. A part of you knew, forgiveness materialised in your heart when you first saw her on the dance floor, despite her close embrace with your brother.

Everything that you felt was dismissed completely at the sight of her, alive and breathing as she stood just steps away from you. Carol frowned, cheeks crimson and skin gleaming of sweat. It takes one move for her mouth to part, and for you to leap into her arms as she held you close. They won, and she was alive.

In the heat of such reunion, you pushed yourself back slight, your soft eyes gazing into hers and like nature pursuit the sun’s shine, your mouth hovers over hers—

And you kissed her.

One kiss after another, mouth pressing into the other as though air was transfer in that way, her touch melting you into a puddle of love for her.

Carol was stunned and hoped the forbidden wake from a dream wouldn’t ruin this moment with you. It doesn’t happen, not when your hands grasped her face or when her hands fell to your waist. You were kissing her so fondly that the smile on her face the only reason you stopped.

“You kissed me,” Carol whispered, her minty breath fans over your mouth, and you used to tease her for her habit of eating mint candies when she was stressed. “You kissed me.”

You hummed. “And you kissed me back.”

However, the sweet reunion of love was interrupting by a cough. Carol shifted her head slight, looking over your shoulder to see Monica stood there with an unamused expression. You tenderly turned around in her embrace, back pressed into hers as Carol rested her head on your shoulder.

It's perfect, she confessed to her heart. The bad was resolved, and you still love her. You love her enough and haven’t left her side since the start of this unavoidable war.

She doesn’t need any other proof of love than the way your hand grasps her wrist and hold her closer. The glimpse of a mark on your wrist proof of it more, a matching emblem of love that glows warmly on her skin and yours.

“So…you forgive her for being problematic?” Monica teased, and instantly raised her hands in feign surrender when Carol glared at her. “Okay, calm down, Aunt Carol. I was just…stating the obvious.”

A groan trembles through your shoulder at Carol’s annoyance. “Don’t you have anything better to do? Where’s Kamala? Go take care of her, please,” Carol plead in the end, and Monica smiled, waving her hands at you as she walked away.

Carol turned your body around, facing you entirely as the smile on her face widens as you were smiling at her too. It’s unreal, she thought, as her fingers trace the curve of your lips and you lean into her touch.

You felt the texture of her skin, the print of her birth and the ones occurred from her life filled with action. She wasn’t a fragment of a memory that made you curse and cry the night away. Just knowing she was there with you, lessen the ache that was so persistent in your heart.

“I’m sorry for messing up,” Carol whispered, her hand grasps your jaw tenderly. “I shouldn’t— I should have never left you. It’s my fault, and I would do everything to fix this, fix us.”

You simply listened or more, admire the little furrow of her brows as she spoke, the line that drew over forehead which appeared more prominent when she was frowning, and the way her eyes visibly softened, it’s not the look of a warrior but of someone blooming with sympathy. Your body seemed to react first as you pressed your mouth firmly over hers, lips completely shutting her from her rambles of apologies.

“I forgive you,” was whispered as another kiss was followed by, “But you have a long way to fix everything,” you pointed, and she chuckled, nodding her head in agreement.

This was entirely the way either of you expected for rekindle of a relationship, but she was there, you were there, and safely together. Life, rough as it always had been, but it would eventually resolve into better thing. You accepted this at once as her eyes gaze into yours, the tender touch of her hand, and the sweet smile on her face.

You kissed again—just for her.

“But you are divorcing my brother or this,” you pushed yourself back, creating a gap between bodies. “Would never work out,” you stated as you removed your hands from hers and patted her chest softly.

The response that came after was the sound of your distant steps, and Carol’s eyes followed your figure retreating to where the rest were surely waiting.

“Wait! Stop!” Carol shouted suddenly, realisation dawning on her after completely losing her state of consciousness from your touch. “We got married on papers to solve a conflict! It’s not real, hey!”

The laughter that echoed through the space ship was shared among those surviving another formidable battle. You were laughing with Monica and Kamala while Carol was trying her hardest to justify her political marriage, and the slight appearance of a smile when she realises that this is her family. Loneliness doesn’t dwell at each corner of this floating ship, but the warmth of friendships, and rekindled relationships.

hi! if you enjoyed this, do consider getting me coffee 💜

[elegy-if]

For the very first time in years, you’re met with the scent of fresh air. No antiseptic, no lingering smell of blood, still so thick you can practically taste it at just the memory of it. You’re not going back if it kills you. Which it very well might.

DEMO: LINK (UPDATED DECEMBER 8TH, 2023.)

Nemisi is an 18+ modern horror/romance/urban fantasy interactive novel WIP. Play as a customizable MC, who’s on the run from Vicelie Labs.

The struggle between cosmic deities — now worshiped (or abhorred) as gods — tore its way into your planet not long before you were born. Unluckily for you, you were one of the first generations to be born exposed to Excinate, the name given to the radioactive-like sickness that comes from being exposed to magic not of your world. As your symptoms slowly got worse and worse, you were promptly ripped from your family after a doctor’s visit ushered on by your concerned parents. Since then, you’ve been shipped around and transported from facility to facility to be poked and prodded at.

Until now. No, now you’re free.

Aside from that lingering hunger for flesh you’ve had since becoming infected, of course. Just a little side effect from the radiation, along with a mouthful of jagged teeth and a jaw that can unhinge like a snake.

THE CAST:

Refs for RO skin tones can be found here!

Felix (he/she, bigender + bisexual): Curt, blunt, and too tired to deal with this mess, Felix really had no reason to suspect the lab next to gas station he works night shifts at had anything to hide. It’s not like the screams he heard coming from that direction were anything more than some kids messing around late at night, right? Besides, she'd met some of the employees of Vicelie Labs, and aside from the occasional lingering scent of blood, they seemed like just fine people. 

Okay, so maybe she did have a sneaking suspicion something was up. Not like he could do anything about it. Not until you show up, at least, crashing through the gas station door in such a tizzy you’d nearly run into it.

Tall and lanky, Felix often has a scowl spread across her face. He has tawny brown skin, dark brown eyes, and poorly bleached hair with quite a bit of jet black root growth. His hair is styled into a shaggy wolf cut, and of course one can’t forget the shitty stubble she’s refused to shave since it grew in. Felix has a body that might often be described as scrawny, or perhaps even gangly. A strong gust of wind could knock him over. Felix is most often seen in casual clothes; hoodies, band shirts, and jeans make up the majority of her wardrobe. Has several piercings; a bridge, septum, both nostrils, snake bites, and two eyebrow piercings side by side. She stands at 5’11” tall. Felix is trans no matter what. He will always use both he and she pronouns interchangeably. Please do not use they/them to refer to her.

Dr. Eden Neal (gender selectable, M/F/NB): Kind, but awkward. A doctor who didn’t know what they were getting into when applying for a job with Vicelie Labs. Fresh out of med school, the harsh reality of the labs was too much for them. They were assigned to examine you, and though it was hard to trust them at first (and even now) they were essential in your escape. 

While Eden seems to be a kind soul, your bitter side can’t help but wonder if their assistance in your escape was some cruel joke.

Combined with their soft, rounded features, Eden’s dark hair is in long braids, often pulled back out of their face into a ponytail. They have large golden brown eyes with thick eyelashes, and their skin is a deep brown, with a hint of a cool undertone. More soft than muscle, though they still have some tone and definition to their arms and back. It’s not easy work lifting and moving those heavy vats around the lab, after all. Eden is most typically seen in a lab coat, though they lean a bit more business casual once they start meeting up with you for check-ins after your escape. They stand at 5’4”, regardless of gender. Eden is black, with dark skin.

Sable (gender selectable, M/F/NB): A bit of an outcast, Sable is an extremely shy mortician, and one of your (limited) options for getting the flesh you so desperately crave. They spot you sneaking into the morgue one night, half lucid and drunk with the need for blood and flesh on your tongue. They offer to cut a deal with you — they’ll give you all the scraps and leftovers that they can get away with, so long as you give them any information you’ve picked up about the consequences of using cosmic magic. 

Are they seeking power, or just simply curious about the consequences of magic from a biological standpoint?

Sable is one of the tallest RO’s, standing at 6’2” regardless of gender. They have a bright shock of long, curly ginger hair, and their near ghostly pallor is covered in freckles and beauty marks. Most notably, they have beauty marks to the right of their bottom lip, as well as underneath their left eye. They have a long, roman nose with a prominent bridge and blue eyes. Their body is on the heavier side, with a soft stomach and thick thighs. Sable doesn’t dress to impress as they’re mostly surrounded by dead bodies, typically wearing neutral colored slacks and skirts. They occasionally spice things up with an interesting vest or tie, but are much too scared to stand out to do so often. They have circle glasses. Sable is plus size, with a pear shaped figure.

Eris (gender selectable, M/F/NB): A hired killer, and the only other option you have for sating your hunger besides Sable. You meet Eris as you’re hiding away from Vicelie Labs in Eden's apartment, drawn to the smell of blood from them finishing up one of their “contracts” in the apartment next door. It’s a mess of guts and gore, and you can’t stop yourself from indulging. After a moment of awareness, you go to turn tail and run, only to find Eris still there. They have an offer for you — they’ll kill for you, and you can have at their fresh meat. Certainly an offer that’s hard to pass up, considering your current predicament.

Perpetually masked, you’re actually not certain what Eris looks like behind it. From what you can see, they’re very sturdy. All you can see besides their build is their hair, occasionally peeking out from beneath their hood. It falls to Eris’ wide shoulders, and from what you’ve seen is a dark brown. They stand at 6'0" tall, regardless of gender.

???: You’ve only heard of them in passing at the lab — someone who goes after rogue assets, like you. According to Eden, they’re after you, and with a vengeance.

Good luck.

[vs120shound-2]

Nearly always in any talk about legendary girl-next-door types. This is Kaitlynn who is just as sweet as can be . . . but when she pulls out a Newport 100s, she's not so pure! She's more of a Smoking Slut!

KAITLYNN OF SV: SOFT, SWEET . . . AND 'SLUTTY!'

In the first part of this clip from Juniorjunior, out of semi-retirement recently from Smoking Fetish Kingdom, Kaitlynn of Specialized Videos is the personification of the girl-next-door from Michigan. In the second half of the video, wearing the "statement" shade of lipstick, she shows how she can excel with the "trampy" look as well. Versatility. That's what some folks stress as an important asset for a smoking woman. Hey, Kaitlynn loved smoking her Newport 100s but Scott, the SV web-master/web producer, often would shoot her with VS100s Menthols as well, showing some flexibility in that regard!

This is fodder for a Video of The Week | Hall of Fame division post out by sometime mid-week. It is strong enough as a Standalone but it adds much to our Megapost featuring Kaitlynn! We're hoping you will enjoy her in both forms -- freestanding here and as part of a package devoted to the beauty, cuteness and heavy Newport 100s smoking by this Smoking Sweetheart! She is one heckuva BHYSW (Beautiful Hot, Young Smoking Woman)!

Recent Post on Our Network of Kaitlynn!

From lostlighter23 on December 21, 2023 . . .

Downloaded from SFK on December 20, 2023

[bohbee]

Genshin characters reacting to you falling asleep.

(Part 4)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Masterlist

Characters: Al-Haitham, Tighnari, Cyno, Kaveh, Wanderer

Warnings: getting chased down by eremites [Cyno], poison [Tighnari]

Notes: I like tighnaris a lot it's cute

Al-Haitham

Life was surely something else when it came to dating the renowned Al-Haitham. The two of you had dated when he was still friends with Kaveh. It was the ultimate trio. However, now, you were some kind of middle ground for them. Thus, here you are, waiting for your boyfriend to come home as you help your dear architect friend finish his 3-D model. The both of you groan in frustration trying to assemble the abstract building together.....

Al-Haitham opened the door to a very quiet home. He had assumed his lover and roommate had left to go shopping or something, but as soon as he walked into the living room, he was surely mistaken. He shook his head in a slightly irritated manner. The both of you were slumped over the table, papers, and notes laying underneath your faces."You're gonna work them to death, Kaveh." his voice whispered out. After placing a coat on Kavehs shoulders, he carefully lifted your body up and walked to his room, placing you down softly on the bed. "Sleep well, my doll." Al-Haitham then left to make some dinner for the three of you.

Cyno

Dating the General Mahamatra was always fun. Something was always going on. However, it's not always fun, for example now. Today was exhausting. You had been tracked down by some eremites, causing you to run for your god damn life. Cyno was quick to follow behind them, destroying each of them that had been a threat to his lover.

You stumbled on the ground, sand enveloping your foot, and quickly whipped your head backward only to see a deathly smile staring back at you. However, that was quickly ended by Cynos Wrath. He obliterated the eremite and then stared at you, checking you for injuries. You shook your head with a small giggle, "I'm fine, love, that run was a little scary, though." He let out a sigh of relief and lifted your body from the sand, "Let's go," he said.

While walking back home, he felt your breath slow. Looking down, he was met with your peaceful face. Clearly, you had been exhausted from the run, so he let you rest, kissing your forehead lovingly.

Kaveh

You had felt guilty for your two other roommates. They both worked in the Akademiya while you hadn't. However, you made it up by cleaning the house consistently. Al-Haitham appreciated your efforts. However, Kaveh wasn't happy that you were cleaning for his "dick" of a roommate. Today the weather was really rainy, so while the two of them were gone, you had decided to make them some stew. After placing all of the stuff in the pot, you decided to sit down at the table for a little bit. Soon, though, the sound of the rain hitting the concrete and the smell of the stew laid you to a restful nap....

Today, Kaveh hadn't forgotten his key, so when he unlocked the house, he was hit with the rich aroma of stew. The blonde male took a deep breath through his nose and walked to the kitchen only to find his beautiful lovers head resting on the table. He smiled heavily, kissing your forehead, cheeks, and lips. Your eyes fluttered open, looking into your boyfriends beautiful eyes. He smiled at you, placing another kiss on your lips, "If you guys are gonna keep on doing that then go to your own room" Al-Haitham randomly blurted out "HOW DAR-"

Tighnari

You had worked for Tighnari before the two of you dated. However, now that you were dating, you would always venture the forest together. Today, the two of you were looking around trying to find new types of fungi. The both of you had found some, so you separated to gather them. As you cut the mushroom to place it in your pouch, a pwoof of green air came out of it. Your vision became blurry as everything spun around you. *thump* Tighnaris ears picked up on your body, hitting the ground. He quickly rushed over. "You buffoon, those are obviously poisonous." He grabbed your body and rushed back to his office.

When you opened your eyes, you were met with a particularly pissed Tighnari. He shuddered at his glare. "So my dear. What on TEYVAT went through YOUR MIND-"

After the long lecture Tighnari gave you, he handed you some food. "Thank you, Nari, I love you." He shook his head softly, his tail swaying a little "I love you as well, now eat up while I tell you what to look for in mushrooms." Tonight was gonna be long.

Wanderer (Kuni)

You had decided to join your boyfriend and Nahida to pick some flowers. It wasn't often that you did this, but Nahida needed to explain some things over with your anemo boyfriend. The sun was beating down perfectly on your skin, not too hot but rather the perfect amount of warmth while the semi cool breeze hit. You laid down in the field of white and purple flowers as Kuni and Nahida walked talking about the near future. The aroma of Sumeru Roses filled your lungs as the sun led you to a small nap in the grass.

"Tehee." A small giggle could be heard from the Dendro Archon, grabbing The Wanderers' attention. He followed her gaze only to find his lover taking a catnap surrounded by flowers. It was a beautiful sight, but it deeply embarrassed him. After saying goodbye to Nahida, he shook you awake "(y/n), get up," you woke up to his eyes glaring at you "only I'm supposed to see you like that." He said grumbling a bit, you got up and gave a small laugh "I'm sorry, my love"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Ehhhh

[notroosterbradshaw]

Uncle Brooster

A family party to celebrate Viper’s birthday brings the fluffiest of fluff with a side of 18+ NSFW slow smut for Rooster and our reader. 8.5k words.

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

Thank you @imjess-themess​ and @callsign-phoenix​​ for beta’ing - I truly appreciate it! Was hard to do this re-write justice, so hopefully, you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think. Reblogs and comments are highly encouraged and give me life xx

You had been stuck in traffic for at least four hours to this point. You’d left LA a little later than you should have with a hangover a little worse than it should have been, the city made you pay more than deserved. Travelling on a Saturday was a dicey decision at best and you tapped the steering wheel with the beat of a song you’d heard at least three times on different stations. Silence it is, with the occasional beeping from other aggravated drivers in the same predicament. 

It was well after mid-afternoon when you arrived at your grandparents but broke into a small grin when you saw that all too familiar blue Bronco parked a few houses down. He didn’t have to arrive without you, but he did, and it warmed your heart that Rooster felt comfortable enough to go to your family’s events stag even when you were running terribly late. Grabbing the champagne you’d picked up a few blocks earlier because even when it’s family, it’s still rude to turn up empty-handed, you popped out of the car as your nephew, Oscar, zoomed past you on his scooter.

“Don’t let Daddy catch me!” he exclaimed as Arron, your brother-in-law, raced around the side of the house after him. He smiled a friendly hello, roaring after Oscar. Ducking back towards the car to avoid becoming roadkill, you waited, protecting the chilled French beverages in each hand. Priorities on point always.

Wandering into the house, you were greeted by Nana with hugs and smiles. If you were anything like her, with her vivacity at 90, life would be good, you realised. “We didn’t think you’d get here. Bradley said you were stuck in traffic. Why did you go to LA?” she demanded.

“I had a birthday party for an old college friend. I probably should have driven back last night. At least I wouldn’t have been so late...” you grumbled, and would be in less of a puss after hours of containing your road rage. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re here now. Why didn’t Bradley go with you?” she frowned.

“To quote him, ‘I��ll die before I go to a club in LA’. ‘Please don’t make me go to a club in LA’. ‘I will do anything to get out of going to a club in LA’. So, he knocked out a wall in the bathroom instead. He said it was cathartic,” you shrugged. “Dude loves demolishing stuff, Nana. What can I say?”

“Could have been a nice getaway for you both,” she tried.

“You know he’s happy at home,” you reminded her. “That kinda scene is not for him.”

“Maybe you could learn something from him.”

“Probably, Nana,” you bit back your smile.

“There’s plenty of food outside. Go say happy birthday to your grandpa,” she ushered you out but not before she stopped you again, helping you smooth a crease on your sundress. “Can't half tell you’ve been in the car for hours,” she huffed. “This is beautiful, you look divine.”

It was Rooster’s favourite sundress and you figured the least you could do today and wear something easy on his eyes. It made you feel pretty sexy, knowing he liked it so much and only got brought out once before for a dinner date in your early dating days when he fell in love with it.

“Where’s Grandpa?”

She threw her hands in the air. “Holding court, where else?”

Holding court, with his friends and re-telling old war stories no less. Heading outside, you didn’t immediately spot Rooster but found Grandpa and made your way through your family and his lifelong co-workers and friends, stopping and being stopped as your past people before politely interrupting Grandpa to wish him a Happy Birthday.

“Here’s trouble,” Viper smiled, you were the apple of his eye. His darling granddaughter. 

“Happy birthday, sorry I’m late,” you apologised. 

“It’s okay,” he reassured you. “Rooster is here,” he clicked his tongue. 

“Grandpa, one day you’ll have to accept he’s my partner,” you said gently, putting a hand over his heart. Viper sighed, patting your hand.

“I know, but not today,” the old man smiled wickedly. “I like keeping him on his toes.”

“I know,” you rolled your eyes as he chuckled, pushing you away tenderly to continue his story. Hearing ‘Vietnam’ and ‘Mitchell’ as you wandered through the masses of guests, someone gently checked you with their hip as you passed and Rooster grinned at you… holding your six-month-old niece, Ava, in his strong arms tenderly.

Well, this was a new development.

“Hi,” he said quietly, lowering to kiss you gently, you cupped his cheek. “I missed you, sweet girl.” 

Shocked, you nodded at Ava. “Me too. I’m so sorry I’m late,” you said, extremely distracted by the sight before you. Rooster chewed his bottom lip, incredibly pleased with himself – he enjoyed rendering you speechless. It didn’t happen easily and it certainly didn’t happen often. “Stealing hearts and infants now?” you teased as he nodded, letting his grin rip wide across his tanned features, you know those warm honey-coloured eyes were dancing behind his mirrored aviators.

“Looks like it.”

“Are you okay? Do you need me to take her?” Something to distract me from looking at you with a baby, perhaps? He shook his head as Ava held his long, slender index finger in her soft hand and he watched her keenly, a little taken with her himself. She was a true beauty. Annie had told him Ava was your dead ringer as a baby, and he could almost believe it.

“I’m good,” he promised. “I’d love a beer though.”

“I think I can do that,” you told him as he smiled and turned his attention back to Ava, cooing in his deep rasp that almost made you want to cry.

Heading to the cooler, you greeted some of Grandpa’s former Top Gun students and Rooster’s superiors as you grabbed Rooster a beer and picked up the champagne bottle for yourself as Annie sidled over to you to say hello.

“Didn’t think you were ever gonna get here. How are those ovaries?” she smiled, nodding over her shoulder to Rooster who was still gently rocking a dozing Ava in his arms. “Give that man a baby, and give that man a baby now.”

“Oh, my God,” you sighed. “Make yourself useful,” you shoved Rooster’s beer and a champagne flute into her hands, popping the bottle and pouring yourself a generous glassful. “You want?”

“No, Ava will need to be fed shortly,” she replied as you took the drinks back.

“Was this your ploy?” you asked, looking back at Rooster.

Christ, was his chest broader today? Was it arms day? He did mention he went for a run on the phone earlier. He usually broke it up and used some of the free equipment near the beach if he felt particularly energetic. He looked so good. You mean, he always did. Sunglasses now in his sun-kissed curls, casual in a crisp white linen shirt untucked over a pair of khaki shorts and barefoot in the plush grass. He was not remotely interested in fashion, but just one of those people with that body that everything fit him perfectly. You groaned that you had to wait to love on him properly, without the gaze of your family and his higher-ups even if it wasn’t a workday. You were already imagining stripping him of that beautifully offensive shirt -  

“What, to see Rooster with a baby?” she joked as you gave her your attention again. Fantasizing about Bradley Bradshaw would not bode well for you at a family birthday party. Nope. You could be patient. You waited this long for him, what was another few hours? “No, I had to help Mom in the kitchen since you decided to show your face at the last minute, and he was the closest, reasonably responsible adult in the vicinity to hand her to.”

“And where was your husband during all this?” you asked, sipping your champagne.

She pointed to Arron and Oscar on the trampoline.

“I see.”

“Yeah,” she said, unamused. “I have three kids at home.”

“Hey, he’s your kid’s best friend,” you reminded her. “And that’s fucking priceless. We can’t say the same thing with our old man. Enjoy it now because one day, Oscar will be just like you and it should be terrifying for all of us to go through your teenage years again.”

Reminiscing her wild adolescent days momentarily, Annie shuddered. “If that kid is half the asshole I was, I don’t know how I’ll cope,” she laughed incredulously.

“How did Rooster react with Ava?”

Annie cackled. “Unfortunately, no ejector seats nearby for Rooster. Looked like I’d asked him to punch Grandpa.”

“Yikes,” you laughed, loudly.

“I showed him how to not drop her, but he figured it out pretty quick.”

“You just dumped her in his arms, didn’t you?”

“Threw him completely in the deep end,” she confirmed, still laughing. “He’s had her for nearly an hour though and I’ve offered numerous times to take her. He even knocked Mom back.”

“Oh, wow.”

“It’s been nice to eat and talk for once instead of being the Mom.”

“You are the Mom,” you reminded her, lightly kicking her shin. “But I know you’re so much more than that too.”

She flashed a shy smile. “Thank you.”

As nice as the familial love was, Rooster still had your undivided attention. You sipped the cool amber gold and felt yourself melt. “He looks so good,” you said to her quietly.

“We can talk about this, if you want,” Annie joked, not missing the longing in your voice. “He looks very good. A bit of a natural, to be honest. You have the dreamiest look on your face,” she teased.

“You can see what I’m looking at, right?”

“Yeah, I can see,” she poked your arm. “Your old bedroom is just up there, I’m sure Rooster would love to see where you spent your formative years.”

“Rooster didn’t see me like that when we were teenagers.”

“No, I suppose not. But if you asked him to go up there with you with all these people here, I guarantee you, he would be dragging you up there.”

“I don’t think I need to christen Grandma’s favourite duvet today with his superiors here…”

“Bullshit,” she sang. Sadly, Annie was very good at planting very bad ideas in your head, and the little bunny bounced around freely. “If I know Rooster, the thought of getting away with something like that would be very, very appealing to him.”

“I watched him do 164 push-ups without stopping the other day,” you changed the subject.

“Why would he do that?”

You rolled your eyes. “For the sake of it. ‘Peak physical perfection’ was what he told me. He was gloating, I might add.”

"I’d believe it,” Annie shrugged. 

“He’s got an endurance like I’ve never seen,” you sipped your champagne to cure your dry throat.

“You’ve heard it your whole life. They’re the ‘1 per cent’,” she said in air quotes.

“Just ask them,” you said. “I miss him, I’m going to rescue him,” you decided with a hum of satisfaction but wouldn’t give Annie the pleasure of knowing just how true the ‘1 per cent’ really was. 

“I’ll come to get her soon but enjoy it for now.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you rolled your eyes with a grin that told her you’d do just that and wandered back to him. Gently caressing his side, you offered him the bottle, keen to see his next move. Pouting in thought, he adjusted his posture around Ava’s snug little body and grinned as he released a jazz hand, admitting success.

“Thank you, baby,” he took an eager gulp.

“Do you want me to hold her?” you asked as he shook his head.

He shook his head. “Naw, I got it,” he replied, swaying on the balls of his feet to subdue Ava like he’d been doing it his whole life. “I’ve held footballs bigger than this little love.”

Little love? Your ice-cold heart-melting at his endearments, you managed, “You look very comfortable, Bradshaw.”

He flushed a little. “What, you think I could do this?” he smiled shyly.

“I think you’d be a beautiful father,” you divulged. “Not that I… think of that.”

He giggled quietly. “Of course not.”

It was kind of true though – you enjoyed this incredibly selfish phase you were in with Rooster. You rarely left the house when he was home. Just the two of you in your own bubble. You didn’t have to be together, he could be found with a sledgehammer, knocking down walls or strumming a guitar in his makeshift music room, and you could be reading or lesson planning. You were just content to be together, doing your own thing.

“I think of that,” he shrugged easily. “I mean, not right now. But eventually. I want to have some kids.”

Of course you do, you sighed to yourself, sipping your drink. You felt an unfamiliar fluttering in your tummy. You just assumed it was your biological clock introducing itself violently. Fuck, unfair.

“You… don’t?” he raised an eyebrow, a little surprised.

“I dunno…” you admitted. “I hadn’t really thought about it. I guess so, I’m not getting any younger.”

The lopsided grin on his face told you he was satisfied with your answer and the taunting could stop… for now. “We could do this one day,” he shrugged.

You were gone for 12 hours, and it had been pure torture. He went for a few drinks with his squad and could not keep interested if he tried (much to the humour of Hangman’s taunts of him being so pussy-whipped that he forgot how to have fun – Rooster agreed. He’d much rather be getting laid every night with a woman as sexy and eager as you than have to look like a desperate asshole like he did… Hangman quit his schtick pretty quick). He’d forgotten how to sleep alone, not curled around you (and you’d called at least a dozen times in a drunken stupor wishing he was there, wishing you were home, wishing you were fucking each other instead going back to the hotel without him. It was hilarious, and in Rooster’s mind, heart-warming you were missing him as much as he was missing you).

“You okay?” you frowned, he’d drifted off a minute.

Blinking as he came to, he nodded. “Thinking about your endless calls last night,” he recovered with a smug grin that you rolled your eyes at.

“You’re such a dick.”

He gasped, pretending to cover Ava’s little ears. “Not around the children!”

“Said the naval aviator.”

“We are all upstanding, respectable members of the US military, ma’am,” he recited.

“Are you shittin’ me right now?” you looked around and could only insinuate the backyard was an absolute pissing contest, testosterone was choking the place. How Phoenix and Halo put up with the shit from these guys only spoke volumes of their strength and resilience.

Rooster let out a hearty laugh. “Okay, okay. But we’re not all a bunch of dickbags,” he protested to Ava. “Are we?” he frowned, suddenly a little concerned.

Pettily, you replied and started counting on your fingers, “Bob,” you paused and frowned. “Just sweet Bob.”

“Sweet Bob?” Rooster hooted. “You must be outta your mind because that guy is as wicked as the rest of us. You’re just confused by the glasses, aloofness – ”

“Aloofness,” you mocked.

“He ain’t reserved, he ain’t shy. He plays the game better than all of us combined. Baby, that motherfucker is foolin’ you,” he said, seriously. “If you think for one second he isn’t sewing his seed in whatever port we’re in, Jesus, baby, you’ve fallen for it too.���

You groaned, now Rooster was just reaching.

“Trust me, Bob is single for a reason.”

“Nope, refuse to believe it,” you turned away from him as he grabbed your wrist and whispered by far the crudest thing you’d heard of all the antics from any of Rooster’s friends. Rooster smiled as he watched your facade change as he went into some very explicit details.

“Oh, my word.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t know this,” he giggled again, kissing your temple. “My innocent little baby.”

“Yeah, definitely something Natasha and I should have talked about.”

“She has her own shame,” he kept paying out.

You looked at each other and said in unison, “Bagman.”

“Well, you’ve broken my heart, Roost. I’ll never be able to look at that sly bastard the same again,” it kind of crushed you. Not-so-sweet Bob. You were more than intrigued though and would ask Rooster again sometime. He wasn’t entirely forthcoming about his friends (or his) antics when they were abroad. There was a code they quietly shared and you probably didn’t want to know.

“Don’t get me wrong, when he’s on form, he’s amazing – we all took notes. It’s not a front, but what you don’t see, babydoll, would make your head spin. Credit where it’s due, he will not behave like the wild man he is around the ladies. He’s very respectful of Phoenix, Halo, and you,” he gently cupped your chin and chuckled. “Lucky for you that you have such an honourable, roguishly handsome, intelligent, Adonis as me, huh?”

“I’m supposed to pay you those compliments.”

“On you for forgetting I have an ego,” he replied thoughtfully.

“Ooh, you are on one this afternoon,” you murmured.

He smiled, slugging his beer. He leaned down to kiss you deeply, no mind to anyone in your vicinity. “I love you and you know I’m settled. You’re the only woman that turns my head.”

“Keep talking,” you instructed.

He nodded you closer and he freed a hand to tuck you into his arms, trying not to squish Ava. “I am so in love with you, I don’t care if anyone thinks I’m whipped. Because I am. You’re the love of my life and those arseholes can fuck around all they like. You are the only woman I want. Who I fantasize to, first and last thing on my mind every day even when you’re next to me, who gets me over the line when I’m away. I am so infatuated with you.”

“Better,” you blustered as he kissed you again, a little softer this time.

“I love you,” he said against your lips. You whispered the same back as you snuggled into him, lightly tracing the soft skin on Ava’s little hand. Your sister sure made adorable babies. Casting his gaze over you, he sighed wistfully. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Oh, this was completely purposeful,” you smiled as he cursed quietly. You moved across the space between you to hold him as inconspicuous as you could with his superiors, and of course, Viper, lurking. He leaned down to kiss you again. “With that blue lingerie you like.”

You knew Rooster thoroughly enjoyed being teased and that was solely what the dress was. You motioned him closer again and he bent to hear right into his ear, a glutton for punishment. “What?” his tone guttural.

“Free reign. You can do whatever you want to me,” you gently kissed his jaw before he stood to his full height again, exhaling deeply, a look of disdain (or discomfort) crossing his features. “I’m very looking forward to getting you alone tonight,” you said kindly.

“That dress comes off the second we cross the threshold,” he hissed at you. “So goddamn sexy.”

“Watch yourself, Bradshaw,” Grandpa stalked past as you both gave each other wide berths.

“Yessir,” he replied, meekly, hoping the old man’s hearing was going and he didn’t hear him talk so disrespectfully. His shoulders slumped as, thank God, Viper didn’t stop to reprimand him. “One day, he’s gonna love me,” he muttered, hardly self-assured. Sure, Rooster was in on the joke, but he couldn’t wait for the day Viper was his mentor again… and didn’t only see him as the guy fucking his granddaughter. 

“Not today, he’s not,” you snickered, sipping your champagne and swishing the skirt of your dress a little, loving the movement of it – Rooster had very good reason to find this his favourite. Your silhouette in it drove him to a level of wild he’d never imagined.

“You are a fuckin’ menace.”

“I am, I agree but you wouldn’t change a damn thing.”

Of course, he wouldn’t. He lived for you smart mouth. “Jury’s still out on current behaviour,” he mumbled, giving you a playful side-eye as Ava started to whinge. Panic crossed Rooster’s face, with the little one peaceful to now.

You smiled. “It’s okay, she’s probably just hot. Stop cradling her like a football and see if she’s comfier down your chest,” you offered, you mimed what you meant. He was a little spooked the ease of just holding the infant got a little harder. Watching his struggle was a sight, but you wouldn’t tease him, he was by far trying his best. “Can I help?”

“Yes, please!” he squeaked.

“Come here,” you rested your glass on a nearby table and opened your arms, happily taking Ava from him. Rooster knew his strength, and it certainly wasn’t a lot to hold Ava, but he was not used to the posture of it all and shook his strong arms out willingly.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “She looks much happier now.”

“She’s probably hungry too. You did great,” you told him, rocking gently, hoping to calm her again.

While you focused on Ava, cooing and whispering sweet words, Rooster sipped his beer, watching you intently. You were so beautiful, but holding your niece was stirring up some shit in his already-convoluted brain. He’d been thinking about a lot of things lately. His career was on the rise, he’d officially transferred and moved into his parents' old beach house, leaving Virginia behind. When he was home, you spent every night together; where there was one, the other wasn’t usually far, and everyone could see how happy you were together. He could see it too. He had changed, he had mellowed and he wasn’t remotely miserable about it.

He loved making a life with you.

It was all moving in one direction and while he was excited for it all with you, he could admit it was scary because he’d resolved himself probably not having kids and probably not getting married after his mother raised him without Goose and how it affected her every day. Leaving nothing behind always seemed like the easier option if things...

But now the thought of his last name being passed along didn’t seem so farfetched. The notion kind of enthralled him, and he found himself thinking about it – thinking about Carole’s engagement ring hidden in the safe he’d recently purchased with his will, Goose’s dog tags, passport and that kind of stuff with some various items of yours also. You just wanted your passport somewhere you’d remember it as well as some legal docs.

“Uncle Brooster!” you heard Oscar before you saw him.

“Uncle Brooster?” you frowned.

“I may or may not have picked up a new nickname today that has stuck pretty quick,” Rooster explained, blushing a little. “Oscar started to say Uncle Bradley, but I guess, also Rooster?” he shrugged with a faint grin. Uncle Brooster didn’t seem to hate it, you realised as Oscar ran at him, Rooster catching him in his arms, sitting your nephew on his hip.

“You said you'd play!” he accused, thrusting his new mitt on Rooster’s face.

“Hi, Oscar,” you smiled.

“Uncle Brooster said he’d play when you got here,” he whined.

“Missed you too, bud,” you replied curtly.

“All right, pal,” Rooster nodded. “I promised,” he held his hand out for the ball, putting Oscar back on the grass, as he winked at you and lowered his sunnies over his eyes again. “Duty calls.”

“Is this where you tell me you coulda made it in the pros if the skies didn’t call to you again?” you asked innocently enough. You’d heard that story so many times over the years. Rooster loved baseball. An unhealthy amount. If the Phillies (you had no idea why because he had no connection to the city in any way) were playing, he'd lose a day yelling and cheering at the TV. You dreaded the thought when football season started.

“I could have,” he sighed. “I was scouted.”

“By Uncle Sam?” you teased.

“Oscar, lemme show you that pitch, buddy,” he rolled his eyes at you, wandering away after him. “Your Aunty is a real meanie.”

“Yeah, but if you ask her real nice, she will always let you get ice cream, even when Mommy won’t,” Oscar replied as you giggled. Rooster might have been King of the Kids today, but Oscar still knew where his bread was buttered.

“Yeah, you’ll always be ‘Bad Influence Aunty’,” Annie smiled, sidling up to you and offering her hands to Ava. You shook your head, enjoying the cuddles.

“I’m not a bad influence, I just say yes to everything you say no to when I’m sitting,” you grinned, as she motioned you over to the big tree you’d sit under as kids and play endlessly. The sun was starting to get to you anyway and you sat down on the cool grass with Ava eagerly.

“How’d Rooster go?”

“Said he could see us having babies one day,” you blurted out.

She smiled. “That’s exciting!”

You shrugged. “I like that it’s just us at the moment. He’s away so much that I don’t want to share him,” you played with Ava’s little toes. “Is that wrong?”

She sighed. “That’s really a conversation you need to have with him. Because I know you two will be amazing parents, but if you don’t want to do it, you have to make sure you’re on the same page. It could be a dealbreaker if you both feel strongly about it.”

It felt like a boob punch, but Annie was right. Argh, you hated talking. Even to Rooster who, in reality, he was the easiest person to approach. He’d talk to you about anything, even before you two got together. It wasn’t that he was a few years older, because his maturity was not his always strong suit but had an opinion on everything and he listened well. He wasn’t scared to give you other perspectives on matters or pander to you if he knew you really needed it.

Fuck, he really was breathtaking, you watched him pass under arm to Oscar who missed it but Rooster kept encouraging.

Knowing you were trying not to get too upset, Annie added, “But you two want to have as much time together is wonderful. Things have a habit of falling into place like this sometimes. It’s still fairly new to both of you. You haven’t been a couple for a super long time, you don’t live together – ”

“He wants to, he’s said it a few times now,” you admitted as Ava started whinging and you attempted to appease her.

“What are you waiting for?” Annie asked.

“Every day he’s away, I dread the knock at the door – ”

“Don’t be like that. Rooster is very good at what he does, he will always come back to you.”

“His dad didn’t.”

“And our dad left on his own volition. Real life happens.”

You nodded, solemnly. “I know.”

“You have to open yourself to that man loving you. Because he does. So much so and he’s not afraid to tell anyone but if you keep him at arm’s length, he won’t have to fight for you because there is a queue of women who would kill to be in your shoes. He will be the love of your life, it’s just up to you to accept that.”

Oof, Annie always had a brutal way to deliver her message but you knew she was right.

Ava refused to calm in your arms and Annie held her arms out, preparing herself to feed her daughter. You gave Annie a moment and palmed Ava over, giving your attention to Rooster, baseball forgotten and jumping on the trampoline with Oscar, having the fucking time of his life. “You are gonna regret that, babe,” you said quietly. 30-year-olds were not made for trampolines, no matter how many hours you’d spent on one as a child. You’d fallen for it many times. The aching muscles the following days were never worth it. 

Oscar showed Rooster a small tumble, close to the mat. Not surprisingly, he congratulated your nephew and asked him to step back, bouncing way too high for the small trampoline and flipping himself in the air, giggling like mad. 

“Good chance Oscar will be suffering a broken arm or leg sometime soon with Rooster’s influence. He will be double-bounced at some point today,” you told Annie as she sighed and nodded. 

Sitting outside as the guests had started to leave, you relaxed back against Rooster’s chest, sitting between his legs as he rested his chin against your shoulder, kissing and nuzzling occasionally. It had cooled off a little, the evening breeze coming in off the water and Rooster’s body heat kept you snuggly warm. He always seemed to burn just a little warmer than most.

“Goodnight, Rooster. I expect I’ll see you you on the tarmac at 0600,” Cyclone said above you and you felt Rooster straighten up. “At ease, Bradshaw,” Cyclone instructed, casually.

“Yessir,” Rooster replied, hating being caught unawares. “0600, sir.”

“Goodnight,” Cyclone said to you. “Hope to see you again soon.”

“Goodnight,” you said after him. “I think that’s the last of them,” you reported quietly as Rooster sighed.

“Not one day of peace,” he muttered.

“You knew what you were getting into with my family.”

“I know,” he said against your skin.

“It’s a lot, isn’t it?”

“It’s a lot,” he agreed. “Wouldn’t change it for anything. This is your life. Our lives have always been so ingrained in all this. It’s what you get when you date the ex-Admiral’s darling granddaughter,” you felt him smile against your skin and smiled a little too.

You nodded, humming in agreement. “Did you ever think this would happen, Roost?”

Chuckling, he replied, “Probably, yeah. When we finally got together, I realised work and play were a lot more muddled, but it’s okay. I mean, the Navy feels like it’s all I know these days. It helps that you get it too. Sometimes I wish you didn’t know the ins and outs of what I do because I know it scares you a lot.”

Sighing, you stayed quiet.

“But know, I am always going to come home to you, okay?”

You nodded, pushing further back into his arms and he tightened his grip around you.

“You’re quiet,” he noted.

“I’m just listening,” you admitted. There wasn’t much more you could add, anyway. You could listen to him talk about anything and everything. His voice was a lullaby to you.

“Strange you’re not arguing with me,” he teased, giggling into your neck. You reached back to wrap an arm around his neck, your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. He sighed, he loved when you played with his hair. He was a simple man, but he fucking loved being touched. He was never starved, but no one could touch him the way you did.

“Take me home?”

“Of course. Can I just keep you here in my arms for a few more minutes?” he asked softly. God, he was just perfect. He always knew the right things to say and do to make you feel safe and protected and after your evening, he knew you just needed him to keep you close. “Don’t wanna let you go yet.”

Turning back to face him, you kissed him. “I love you.”

Even in the dark evening, Rooster’s cheeks flushed. “I know, sweet girl. I know.”

Home later that evening, you’d left your car at your grandparents, Rooster driving his Bronco back for his early start the next morning. Your drinks had caught up with you and he trotted around the car to wrap his arms around you, leading you to the front stoop of his home. Noting you didn’t exactly fall into his arms, he stopped and kissed from your earlobe to your pulse. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you replied.

Warning sirens wailed in his head as he dared say, “If the answer to my next question is ‘fine’, I’ll going to be really concerned,” he teased, trying to play cool in his concern.

“Then best you don’t ask,” you told him as he hummed into your skin and held you tightly, before unlocking the front door and letting you both in.

“C’mon. What’s up, baby? Make me regret asking…” he joked, hustling you in his arms and a mess of limbs as he walked you to the kitchen. He dumped his sunglasses, keys and phone and hoisted you onto the kitchen bench. Fuck, you loved when he showed his strength and manhandled you a little bit. He pushed up the skirt of your dress and boldly parted your legs to stand between. “Have I said or done something?” he asked, pretty sure he hadn’t put his foot in somehow since leaving your grandparent's home.

“My God, no,” you held his handsome face in your hands, tenderly. God, you loved his face and his eyes warmed under your gaze, relieved. “Just a big day. I’m tired, I drank too much champagne, I guess. Never a wise decision in the sun,” you said as his large, strong palms massaged your quads. 

“No, probably not,” he admitted. “But for a sec, let’s pretend I can’t see right through you and I can’t tell something is eating at you…” he tried as you sighed and rested your forehead on his strong shoulder.

“Can you know me worse?”

“Tried. Only made me want to know you better.”

“Then say less nice things.”

“Tried that too. You prefer me gruff and nasty,” he chuckled quietly, playing with the ends of your hair.

Looking up to smile, you gently kissed him. “Today was a lot.”

“Why? Me holding Ava? Being king of the kids? Get you all hot and bothered?” he goaded you.  

“Some of that. But also got a lot of, ‘so, are you and Bradley thinking about settling down?’ and ‘gee, he’s such a fine young man, better start thinking about weddings and babies’. And my favourite of the day from Aunt Maggie, ‘you are only getting older, dear. Bradley will want a baby eventually. If you don’t start thinking about it soon, you may be too old and miss the boat’.”

Rooster’s jaw hung. “You’re fuckin’ with me.”

“Nope,” you popped the P.

“Wow, okay. That’s a lot,” he said, a little taken aback and cradled you in his arms.

“Yeah, was a lot,” you replied, meekly, blinking back some tears while he couldn’t see your face. “What kills me the most is we’re doing so good right now.”

“So good,” he agreed.

“We’re having fun, we spend more or less every available minute together.”

“Yep.”

“Why does it have to be muddled with weddings and babies?”

He sighed softly, pulling back to look at you. “I dunno, baby. It doesn’t have to be.”

“You said it yourself though, you want kids.”

“I’m guided by you. You want a baby in ten years, fuck, that’s ten years I get to be completely selfish and have you to myself. You decide you want a baby now, well, whip your undies off and let’s get to it. We can start practising right now.”

“I’m on the pill, Roost,” you reminded him.

“Then stop it,” he shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me because you lead, and I will willingly follow. Always. If you decide you don’t want a baby, well… that’s okay too,” he said the last part quietly but you both knew he was lying.

“Bradley?”

He pursed his lips, looking at you. He knew what you were going to ask, and replied, “I want to have it all with you. But if you are happy as we are, I will be okay with that too.”

“Bradley…”

“I won’t lie to you. I want us to have a family,” he admitted.

“And what if I can’t give that to you?”

“You’re already my family, so how can I lose?” he shrugged. 

Breathing, you kissed him deeply. You were so in love with him, he always knew how to reassure you and this time, you truly believed him because he was all you needed too. “You really think about it?” you asked shyly. As undecided as you were… you couldn’t help but ask.

He nodded, a simple smile gracing his features and a shrug. “Baby… you’ve always been an Aunty. Seeing you with children isn’t new to me. I’ve always known you’d be a beautiful mother. The only difference is it would be our sweet baby.”

Sighing, you couldn’t believe this man was yours, you wanted to kiss his face off. “Knock it off,” you rolled your eyes as he laughed, quietly.

“And you work with kids all day. You’ve got the patience of a saint. Not with me,” he said meekly as you giggled. True, Rooster Bradshaw would get under your skin in about three seconds some days. “But with those kids in the pool, that’s commendable. You’re giving them skills they will use their entire lives.”

“Bradley…” you warned.

“You want a baby, yeah, I’d make a baby with you. The practice would be a lot of fun,” he rattled off. “Kid would be fuckin’ adorable, because… I mean, look at us,” he raised an eyebrow, gauging your response and you bit your lip, trying to remain passive. “And if you decide that you don’t want to either, that’s okay too.”

“I – ” you started and shut your mouth again so quickly that it worried him.

“You?” he frowned.

“No, forget it. Didn’t say anything.”

“I have magnificent hearing.”

“You shouldn’t for someone who is in a jet every day.”

“True, I’m on a one-way ticket to tinnitus. But you were going to say something, and I want to hear it.”

“It’s so dumb,” you dropped your gaze.

Cupping your chin, he sighed. “Nothing from your mouth is dumb.”

“Okay, you asked for it… you’re away so much.”

“Correct. Not a question though.”

“What if I change my mind and you’re away for six months or something?”

“Well, I hope those days are behind me but respectfully?”

“Of course.”

“You go off that pill and I will come home so ready to make babies with you that you will be sick of the time I am inside you,” he kissed that spot on your jaw that drove you absolutely wild.

It was so hot, you think you died a little. “Impossible.”

He laughed quietly. Shaking his head, amazed. “Do you feel a bit better? I don’t want you down. It’s your body and I know you could hesitate because I might not be home as much as you need me to be.”

“We’ve got time?”

“Our whole lives,” he promised. You finally smiled, looking into his warm hazel eyes, as you cupped his chin, your thumb dragging across his marred skin, never wanting to change its perfection. “You good?”

“I feel so much better,” you admitted, softer now. More mellow from his touch. You hated the power he had over you to just snap his fingers and allow you just relinquish pain and distress. Every day he was teaching you, and it was amazing how easily he could get you talking.

“You feel really good,” Rooster admitted, quietly, his tone changed, his strong palms massaging. “Look really good too, like you need to be fucked really good.”

“I do,” you agreed as he sighed and hitched you into his arms. “Last 24 hours was pure torture.”

“I know, I know,” he kissed you softly, that kiss that drove you senseless. Just that kind of kiss that he stole before he would allow you to fall into it and your lips would chase him, a taunt he thoroughly enjoyed. “You’re here now. Bed?” he nuzzled your pulse, heady on your perfume. You giggled quietly, lacing your fingers into his curls.

“Bed.”

He smiled into your skin, his kiss leading to your lips and he kissed you properly for the first time today. You were so fucking addictive to him, his body on high alert. He knew what you needed and was not afraid to give it to you. His slick tongue tickled your lip as you gratefully fought back, missing his taste. You barely noticed he was carrying you back to his bedroom before you were lowered to the bed and his hefty weight was on you – right where you needed it to be. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, not letting him move as he huffed a laugh against your lips. “All right, all right, but you got me locked in pretty tight… how am I supposed to get you naked?”

Pondering, he was right. “Okay,” you released him and he backed up, offering you his hand as he pulled you to him, your back to him, nuzzling the base of your neck. “While I love this on,” he sighed. “The time has come, old friend,” he said to the dress as you bit back your smile and his nimble fingers made light work of the zip. He brushed the spaghetti straps off your shoulders, letting the dress float to the floor, leaving you in your strapless bra and matching underwear you’d promised earlier. He hummed, gently turning to him. “Shit..”

Pinching his cheek, you shook your head. “I know you like this one,” you taunted.

“I like this one, yes,” he swallowed thickly and your body was in flames. “Never used to give half a shit about getting a woman naked… but you make that effort to just give me a little more than I thought I needed,” his fingers traced your rib cage. “Makes me want to keep you in it just a moment longer. As well as the heels,” he tutted. “I don’t know how you wear them all day, but your legs could not look more amazing than if they were wrapped around my head.”

“Bradley,” resting your head on his chest, you were burning up under his gaze. He had the ability to make you feel like the most self-assured person on the planet under his touch. He cleared his throat to tease as you raised your eyes again.

“Don’t you dare get shy on me,” he bit back his smile, starting on the buttons of this shirt. You gently pushed your fingers away as he took the hint, his arms falling to your hips, massaging the soft skin and God, there was nothing you enjoyed more than helping Bradley Bradshaw undress. At the last button, you pushed the lovely shirt away and let it pool at his feet. He used his feet to kick off his sneakers. Popping the button and the fly on his shorts, you let the material add to the pile around his ankles before he eased you back towards the bed.

He crawled up the bed to you, his knees between your begging body. There was absolutely no need to rush. He placed a gentle palm behind your knee and dragged it to the ankle, unbuckling the heel and then repeating the action again on the other foot.

“Slow?”

You nodded as his lips crashed against yours, his arms caging your body impossibly close to him, wrapping your hands above your head with his, and again, your legs encased his hips, forcing his weight heavy on you. “I love you,” you told him as he breathed hard and said the same back, your name rolling off his tongue, his lips barely leaving yours as you grew a little more desperate for his body and he rutted his hips into yours, feeling a little more impatient than what you’d promised each other.

You rolled your head to kiss his well-worked biceps. Sitting you up, he made light work of your bra and his boxers, pinning you below him as your lips met again for a bruising crush of lips, tongues and teeth. You could kiss him all day, even with that moustache. It was so irrevocably Rooster that you probably couldn’t remember what he looked like without it anymore. You’d probably miss its tickle if he ever decided to shave it off. Other parts of your body would miss it too.

He hitched your legs wide as he slipped his middle finger under the seam of the blue lace underwear he left you in, the pad of his finger eagerly testing the waters as he tutted. “You’re so warm and wet, babygirl.”

“Have been all day.”

“I’ll bet,” he sighed. “Tell me if you need me and I will always take care of you,” he rasped, his warm tongue rolling around a straining nipple, lips enclosing and sucking purposefully. He bit you, a hiss escaping your lips as your fingers laced into his curls.

“You are so sexy – ” you tried as he slipped in a finger and his thumb started drawing circles on your clit. Your breath caught and a sigh of utter bliss escaped. His fingers were magical. “I need to touch you,” you said, reaching for him and he rolled your bodies to face each other, your warm palm reaching out for his hard cock. Your delicate fingers swirled the pre-cum around his head and he shuddered, chewing his bottom lip as you tugged at him, helping him find a rhythm.

“Good girl,” he cooed gently, his tongue sneaking between his lips as he breathed long and deep, wanting to feel your hands on him as much as you did him. “Good girl.”

You craned to kiss him, rough, the opposite of your bodies.

“I need you,” you told him, trying hard to compose yourself and not cum all over his fingers. While his fingers worked wonders, you just needed to feel as one. He breathed an ‘okay, baby’, dragging the flimsy material down your hips, moving to his knees to collect them over your ankle and tossing them over his shoulder. Sidling behind you, his strong arms dragging you tight against him, your back to his chest, your ass to cock.  So warm and slick, he sunk into you slowly, it was almost torturous as you pushed your hips back, taking him all in, your arm reaching back and curling around his hip.

A guttural growl from behind you as his fingers crept over your thigh, dragging it over his hip and opening you to him as he lazily drove into you, his palm gripping the tender flesh to keep you close. He laced his other hand in your hair, giving it a gentle tug, to kiss your shoulder blade as you mewled into him. “So good,” you manage, the slow pull of his cock and the sharp snap of his hips rendering you lifeless in response.

“Touch yourself,” he begged. “Please?”

With that voice, he could make you willingly participate in a multitude of sins, but this was too easy. He lived for watching you bring yourself pleasure, and he breathed raggedly as he tried to keep his eyes on your body, but lost to the sheer pleasure as your walls started to tighten around him. Your fingers toyed with your clit as you drew haphazard shapes, writing his name, knowing exactly what you wanted as he cursed, begging for your orgasm, his hips drawing into you, slow and delicious. You were far too wet and warm for him to last, and you were far too close as his cock hit you in the most desired of places.

“Come, baby. You are so close,” he struggled to say as his hips sped up. He was so close, only holding on to feel your walls pulsate around his cock, milking him, and dragging his orgasm out too. He gave your hip a wild smack and his teeth sunk into your shoulder.

“Holy shit, Bradley,” you moaned as his hips stuttered into yours, his orgasm triggered.

“Jesus,” his resolve crumbled as he fucked into you, hard and fast, coming thick and hot inside you as his hips continued to stutter of their own volition. “Shit,” he breathed, you both in a tangle of limbs and quietly panting. Rooster massaged your side and over the spot-on your ass he groped so roughly. “You okay?” he kissed across your shoulder and to your bicep, a litany of goose-pimples bursting on your overstimulated skin, the last sparks of your orgasm firing as he breathed deeply, trying to control himself still feeling the last jolts of your electricity.

“I’m okay,” you sighed, blissed, and found his hand resting on your hip, twisting your fingers in his.

“Love you. I’m so fucking in love with you, sweetheart,” he whispered, urgent.

“I love you too,” you told him, and he kissed you and kissed you and kissed you until you begged to stop to go to the bathroom.

“Sure you’re okay?” he asked, watching you unsteadily, your legs rendering you a little like Bambi learning to walk. He chewed his bottom lip, highly amused. Mission accomplished if your legs were shaking, but he’d lift his game up if you were still able to walk, period.

Keeping your thighs together, he sat up to meet you at the end of the bed, eyes dancing mischievously as you caught his chin in your palm crudely.

“I’m amazing, I love you. Gear up, big boy. Your night is just getting started,” you warned, as he smiled willingly, the pleasantries over. A tinge of red crept to his ears as he watched you cross the room precariously and close the door after you. He rubbed his face and collapsed back on the bed, blissfully. He heard you all right, gear up, big boy.

masterlist.

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

[caroldantops]

indentation in the shape of you || valcarol

ship: valkyrie x carol danvers

summary/request: carol shows valkyrie her new suit. valkyrie doesn't like it.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: smut (18+ only), kinda pwp, the marvels spoilers, strap on use, jealous sex, daddy valkyrie, dom!val, sub!carol

a/n: if you're seeing this coming from a ship tag hello! i usually write reader insert so if you go to my blog looking for more of this ummm. sorry.

masterlist | ao3 link

“I’m glad that they seem to be adjusting well. Fury tells me that they’re working on restoring Tarnax’s atmosphere, so hopefully they won’t have to stay in New Asgard for too much longer,” Carol tightens her fists at her side, tension in her body clear as she stands in front of Valkyrie’s desk. 

“Oh, no worries. Having them is no bother at all. Though I’m sure they’re eager to get off Earth,” Valkyrie hums as she swirls her dagger.

Carol insisted on coming down after fixing Hala’s sun to check on things, something that didn’t surprise Valkyrie in the slightest. What did surprise her was her sudden costume change. Her suit was different. Less saturated, emblem bigger on her chest. Valkyrie didn’t like it. It didn’t feel like the Captain Marvel image that she’d grown used to. 

Plus, this one’s torn in places. Cheaply made. Not fitting for a hero who flies into suns. 

Carol is rambling on about something to do with one of the Skrull families as Valkyrie analyzes this new suit. It does hug her hips nicely. Form fitting around the waist that she’s grabbed and pulled against her many times before. 

“What’s with the new get-up?” 

“What?” Carol’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt. 

“This,” Valkyrie points her dagger at Carol. “Different suit.” 

Carol looks down at her suit. Valkyrie holds back a chuckle at how she almost looks surprised by what she’s wearing. “Oh! I got a new one.”

“Clearly,” Valkyrie laughs. “Come closer, I wanna see it.” 

Carol scrunches up her brows in confusion at Valkyrie’s sudden interest, but chalks it up to that warrior mentality. That woman loves some good battle armor. She walks around the desk to stand in front of Valkyrie, awkwardly holding still as she inspects the suit, running her hands over the material and poking a finger through one of the tears that ripped during the fight with Dar-Benn. 

“Seems cheap, doesn’t it?” Valkyrie sneers. “My armory could make you something ten times as sturdy. Where’d you get this shit suit from?” 

“It’s not shit,” Carol huffs. Valkyrie raises an eyebrow at her and pulls her finger down, making the rip bigger. “Hey!” 

“Why aren’t you answering me, hm?” Valkyrie knows damn well where this suit came from, she could tell from the moment she touched it. She just wants Carol to say it. 

“Aladna. Prince Yan--”

“Oh, a gift from your husband.” 

Before Carol knows it, she’s being tugged flush against Valkyrie. From her standing position, she towers over her even more than she usually does, but she gulps because she knows who’s in control here. 

Valkyrie knows that Prince Yan is no more than a friend to Carol, but both of them know just how much the idea of Carol being technically married makes Valkyrie’s jealousy blaze. 

Especially when she comes around with the gifts he’s given her. 

“Val--” 

“You know, I’m surprised it looks so dull, given that Aladna’s traditional clothing has more colors than a pride parade.” Valkyrie grips Carol’s waist, fingers digging into her sides. It would hurt if Carol didn’t have super endurance. But it’s enough to make the message clear. 

“It’s fine, I’ll probably go back to my old one anyway.” Carol refuses to make eye contact with her. She can’t let her know how much this is affecting her right now. 

But gods. 

It took Carol a long time to find someone who could make her feel this way. Someone who could make her feel safe rather than terrified of giving in to their control, their dominance. 

It just came so naturally to Valkyrie. Carol supposes that’s why she can’t stay away, comes running back when her thoughts get too much for her to bear and she just needs them shut off. 

Like now. 

“Don’t look away from me,” Valkyrie says firmly. Carol bites her lip and meets her gaze again. “Good girl. Bend over the desk.” 

Carol briefly considers asking why, but at the moment she can’t bring herself to fight Valkyrie’s little game. She moves some stuff out of the way and bends over the desk. She does her best to steady her breathing as she feels Valkyrie’s hands run up the back of her thighs. 

“You’d think that Prince Yan would give his princess a sturdier suit. You know, I bet I could just…” 

Riiiiiiiip.

 “Valkyrie!” 

Valkyrie laughs, giving Carol’s ass a slap as she admires what she’s done. Just as Valkyrie suspected, she was able to poke into one of the tears and fully rip a hole right through the crotch of Carol’s suit. Her cunt is exposed, the pale skin of her ass peeking through the top of the tears as well. Valkyrie steps forward, hips flush against Carol’s ass. 

“Feel that, princess?” Carol groans. “Use your words.” 

“Yes, sir.” Carol gasps as Valkyrie grinds the bulge of her strap into her exposed ass. She tries hiding her face to conceal how flustered she is, but Valkyrie won’t tolerate that. She’s tugged up by her hair, Valkyrie’s lips brushing against her cheek as she speaks lowly to her. 

“Does your husband ever do this for you?” Valkyrie doesn’t expect a response, just chuckling at Carol’s whines. “Does he know what a needy girl you are?” 

“No, sir.” Valkyrie unbuckles her belt, pulling out her strap and nudging the tip between Carol’s already damp folds. Carol shudders, pushing her hips back against the sensation. 

“Greedy, greedy thing. Already trying to fuck yourself on my cock.” Valkyrie stands up straighter, but doesn’t release her grip on Carol’s hair, knowing the stinging in her scalp makes Carol as compliant as can be. “You’re getting spoiled, princess. Gonna have to ask nicely for what you want.” 

“Please,” Carol asks softly, voice pitched high as Valkyrie rubs her clit with her strap. “Please, sir. Please fuck me.” 

“Hmm,” Valkyrie releases Carol’s hair and runs her hand down her back, feeling the strong muscles of her back quiver under her touch. “Dunno, that’s not very convincing if you ask me.” 

“Please, daddy, I need you to fuck me!” 

Valkyrie laughs and sinks her cock into Carol’s weeping pussy. Carol lets out a guttural moan, only overshadowed by the wet noises her cunt makes as Valkyrie pounds deep into her. She grips Carol’s hips, pulling her back against her to meet her rough thrusts. 

She loves having Carol like this. The all-powerful Captain Marvel, destroyer of armies and savior of the universe begging for her tight pussy to be ruined by her, shivering under her praise and degradation, weeping in her arms after she’s been thoroughly fucked. 

Carol must have been particularly pent up today, because it doesn’t take much longer for her to be on the edge, a few strokes of Valkyrie’s fingers over her clit and some whispered praises of “Good princess, let go for me. I’ve got you” send her into a shaking mess as she comes. 

She mumbles something incoherent as Valkyrie flips her over, pulling her up to curl against her chest. “What was that, baby? Can’t hear you when you’re mumbling.” 

“Thank you,” Carol sighs. 

Valkyrie smiles softly, kissing Carol on the tip of her nose and rubbing her back. “You that tired after one round?” 

“Not tired, just…tired.” 

“Ah, yeah. That really cleared things up.” 

“Shut up.” 

[hisunshiine]

—it’s the way that you can ride [3/7]

Part 3 of 7 of the Seven Days Series ↣ series masterlist

🗓️pairing: nurse!jungkook x teacher!reader 🗓️au/genre: non-idol au, brother’s friend au, fwb, age-gap(reader is older), f2l, fluff, angst, smut 🗓️rating: M 🗓️wc: 4,622  🗓️warnings: emotionally constipated pairing, reader is older, adult worries, growing older, dating younger, time passing and not hitting milestones everyone else is, second-hand embarrassment, enter Kim Seokjin as an antagonist, Jungkook is so hot but his feelings are too big, angsty cliffhanger explicit sexual content: unprotected sex, light bondage, talks of a safeword, oral (m & f receiving), discussion of safeword, Jungkook is whiny, positions of 69, face riding, reverse cowgirl, cowgirl, and jack-hammer, biting, multiple orgasms, creampie.  🗓️an: part 3!!! I apologize in advance for the ending cliffhanger, but hey, it's the angst that makes the story, amirite? 😭 🗓️summary: “It’s the way that you can ride, it’s the way that you can ride…” Picking an outfit for a wedding is hard enough without your friends with benefits turning you on. Especially when he makes a tie look so sexy, you can’t help but use it to get him right where you need him to be. Ties make great reigns, and Jungkook is willing for you to be the leading lady, in more ways than one.

Taglist: @sizzlingfestpeach @mochminnie @jungkooksmytype @kookslastbutton @taebangtanbabe (if joining the taglist, please think about reblogging with tags/leaving feedback!)

The smell of antiseptic cleaner might be pungent to some, but for Jungkook, it’s non-existent. He sits in the hallway of the unit, typing away at one of the portable computers used to write up notes on patients. He picked up a shift to help balance the few days he plans to take off for Yoongi’s wedding, and once he gets off at 2 PM, he plans to head straight to your place so he can figure out an outfit formal enough to wear to the wedding. 

“Hey, Jungkook, you finished your DAR notes fast. In a hurry? It’s a little early for you to be rushing off to get your fix,” Dr. Kim Seokjin teases him as he approaches, scrolling through a tablet. 

“Actually, I am headed there, but not for what you’re thinking, nosy.” Jungkook puts the finishing touches on the last patient’s notes. He’s proud to say he carried out all of his assigned responses to patient action plans Dr. Kim assigned, and once his relief shows up, they’ll reap the benefits of all his hard work on day shift. “I have to finalize my formal outfit for Yoongi’s wedding.”

“You don’t know what you’re wearing yet? I’m surprised you aren’t wearing matching outfits with a certain someone…actually, I’m waiting on when it will be her walking down the aisle to you.”

“Seokjin, fuck off.” Jungkook knows he’s being sensitive, but right now, he’s confused and stressed about this wedding.

“Listen, you guys need to come clean to Yoongi, and then come clean to each other. It doesn’t take a doctor to diagnose you both as lovesick.”

“Seriously, hyung. It’s…complicated.”

Jungkook is about to elaborate, but just then, another voice chimes in.

“What’s complicated? Do you need help?” SoHee bounds into view from behind Seokjin, her hair braided and scrubs a soft pink to compliment the light blush dusting her cheekbones.

“Nothing.”

“Jungkook here’s thinking about bringing a plus one to Yoongi’s wedding. Hey, you’re going aren’t you?” Seokjin spills, making Jungkook huff out an angry exhale.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll be there!” SoHee shares. “Yoongi invited quite a few of us from the school. To be honest, I think it was to get a larger haul of wedding gifts. I guess if I bring a plus one, we could split the gift…”

Seokjin laughs, but Jungkook just chuckles, feeling a little awkward.

“Well, maybe you can go to the wedding as Jungkook’s date?”

“Hyung.” Jungkook shoots a burning stare at Seokjin, but he ignores it, continuing to push the agenda.

“You’re not going with anyone yet, and SoHee here is a perfect option. Unless you have someone in mind?” Seokjin gives Jungkook a challenging stare.

“I mean, I would love to go with you, SoHee,” he answers, looking to her eager face, “I just have to make sure of some things. I’ll let you know, though, okay?”

“Of course, Jungkook! I look forward to hearing from you.”

A page sounds off over the speakers on the floor, and Jungkook glances at the clock, seeing he’s free to escape Seokjin and his terrible attempt at prescribing a cure for his diagnosis. He bids farewell to SoHee, but Seokjin follows him towards the staff lounge. Once they’re alone, Jungkook rounds on him.

“Are you insane? Now SoHee is going to expect me to take her on Sunday!”

“And? I thought you liked her?”

“I do, but it's complicated, like I said.”

“Just…think about it. SoHee is totally into you and willing to take it to the next step. I know you’re enjoying your sexcapades, but don’t you want more?” Jungkook just shrugs before pulling off his scrubs to change back into his street clothes. Seokjin sighs, shaking his head as he turns to leave. “I can prescribe something for your emotional constipation if that would be better?”

“Fuck off, Jin!”

Music plays loudly as you search your closet for something to wear. You bought a few formal pieces, making sure to keep the tags on until you make a final decision on a dress, but if you’re being honest with yourself, you know exactly why you have yet to make a decision. The sound of your door opening as Jungkook lets himself in with his spare key (because who wants to get up out of a comfy bed every night to let in a horny muscle bunny just to get back into said bed?) reminds you to stop being honest with yourself and continue to lie; it’s easier that way.

“Babe, I’m here and I have, like, seven different tie options. Help.” Jungkook appears in your bedroom doorway with a vinyl-zippered garment bag and another small bag clutched tightly in his hand.

“Seven options? They had that big of a variety when looking for eucalyptus and sage?” You reach for the smaller bag, guessing correctly that it held various ties in the shades mentioned. “Wow, color me surprised.”

“No, go color yourself eucalyptus or sage so we can make sure these tie colors are suitable.” Jungkook orders you back towards your closet while he begins to shrug off his hoodie. 

“What color suits are you debating between?” you call out as you step into the silky sage dress. It’s a little too frilly for your liking, making you feel younger than you like. 2004 is calling and they want their clothing back. 

“I have a navy blue, a black, and a grey suit,” he responds, and you tell him to try them on one at a time, sans tie, to see which one looks and feels the best first. Then you’ll help him narrow down the tie options from there. 

Stepping out of the closet, you hug your dress to your chest and ask Jungkook to zip you up. He does so, but his response to the dress is just so-so. You knew before you put it on that you probably were not going with this one, and his reaction only solidifies that. The navy blue tuxedo on Jungkook is nice, but upon close inspection, the jacket button sits a little too high, making his torso look shorter than it is. 

“Okay, let’s see the black one. This one is a little too tight now that your chest has grown.”

Shimmying out of the dress, you return to grab a floral print dress with shades of lichen green sprinkled all throughout. It’s body-con and knee-length, and missing that umph that you want in a formal dress, but you didn’t have many options in the colors Yoongi chose. 

“That’s better than the sage one.” Jungkook appraises you, but you can tell this one is not right for you either.

“I have a few more, but I think I know which one will work best.” Eyeing Jungkook’s black slacks, you stop him before he puts on the jacket. “ No. Definitely not. The pants are high-waters, did you get that thing when you were in high school?”

Jungkook’s ears turn red as he ignores your question, and you realize you hit the nail on the head. 

“I mean…maybe?” He scratches the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. 

“Okay, last suit. Hopefully it fits, or we’re running to the mall.” Back in the closet, you reach for the hanger of the dress you really love. It’s a eucalyptus-colored floor-length gown, with an A-line cut, spaghetti straps, and a thigh slit. You try to zip up the dress as far as you can, but you don’t want to ruin the presentation by walking out just yet. “Jungkook, can you zip me in here, please?”

His slippered feet shuffle along the carpet as he steps into the dim closet, fingers warm where they skim your back as he closes the dress. You shoo him back out into your well-lit bedroom before gracefully walking out on tip-toes. Jungkook lets out a wolf-whistle. 

“Damn, you have to wear that. You look like a goddess.” You can tell he’s not lying or offering flattery for no reason. His eyes are a portal into his true thoughts and he’s shit at lying. A giddy feeling fills your chest, reminiscent of puppy love. “Okay, now me.”

You look up at him and the soft grey of the suit complements his honey-glazed skin well. You have him spin in a slow circle, and despite the pants being slightly snug, you know that’s not something you can fix without a tailor on short notice—the man has a nice ass and with his slim waist and long legs…It looks good. 

“Perfect.” Your voice is almost a whisper as you step into his orbit, hand reaching for the ties to see which one looks best. Jungkook is still, letting you color match his suit and he thinks you’re also subtly seeing which one matches the color of your dress as well. He wishes for the umpteenth time that he could just…convince you to say what you’re thinking at this moment. Why don’t you tell him that you want to match? That you want to be his plus one? He’s sure that’s what your actions mean. So why don’t you ever tell him?   

“Are you sure? Maybe I shouldn’t wear this color, you know?” Jungkook asks timidly, testing. “Your brother really wants us all in his wedding colors?”

“Yes, he explicitly said we had to wear the colors. They won’t have bridesmaids or groomsmen—you know Yoongi and his minimalist agenda, but his fiancé still wants to have wedding photos with all of us, so we have to coordinate.” You pout as you answer him, fixing the tie as you finish the last loop and pull through. “Why? You don’t want to match with me?” The way your eyes look at him, all wide-eyed and lovey-dovey has him backpedaling. 

“Babe, you know I do, I would choose to match with you even if we didn’t have to.” Jungkook finds himself admitting, and kicking himself in the ass if he could, for revealing way too much about how he feels about you, without anything in return. Well, the way the furrow between your brows disappears and your pout turns into a cute smile is definitely a reward, but it’s not the same. 

You turn, asking him to unzip you again, and then you shuffle back into the closet to disrobe from the dress. He wishes he could see you wear it for a little longer, because you look so gorgeous in it, but he knows that this isn’t his last chance. He shucks off the suit, carefully placing the pants and jacket back into the garment bag. Lying it down flat, he leaves it open so he can still add the shirt and tie. He admires the color of the fabric, a soft but bright green that compliments his honey skin well, the satin pinched between his fingers. 

“Let me.” 

Jungkook turns back to face you at the sound of your voice, freezing when he sees you’re only in your strapless bra and thong. Not that he’s in any better of a situation; he’s in boxer briefs and a white button-down shirt. 

You tug at the tie, gently pulling the longer piece to allow it to slip off from around his neck, Jungkook ducking his head to help you guide it free. Dropping the tie on top of the suit jacket, he feels the way your fingers, warm and light, touch his stomach as you undo each button, starting from the bottom of the shirt. Your eyes never leave his, and he swears he barely blinks—you’re like a siren calling to him, keeping him in place. 

“You bought all of these ties, Ggukkie. And only that one will be used.” You nod towards the garment bag, hands finally reaching the collar of his shirt. “What will you do with the rest?”

“I-uh, I think I’ll save them. Can use them for other formal things. You know?” Jungkook can’t think of any other occasion that he would wear a tie, other than another wedding (his to you, perhaps?) or possibly his funeral—the look in your eyes is like you want to eat him alive, and he’s more than willing to go out that way.

“Hmm, I can think of a few uses for them.” Your hands slip under the shirt where it sits on his shoulders, gliding the sleeves down his arms. His tattooed arm slowly reveals itself, a sight he knows you enjoy seeing. 

“Oh yeah, like what?” Jungkook knows he’s going to like your idea. You work in a school, and teachers are always pretty creative; this isn’t his first time letting that beautiful brain of yours run wild with him. He can feel his boxer briefs tightening in a specific area as his excitement grows.

“Let me show you.” Jungkook follows your lead, allowing himself to be placed in the center of your bed. You climb off briefly to pull two ties from the bag and pop off their tags. You make sure to choose two of a softer satin fabric, since he can’t return them now. You climb back on and return to straddling him. Your core is warm through the thin cotton of your thong, and Jungkook can’t control the slight jump of his dick when you settle on top and lean forward.  

“Hand.” You kiss each of his fingers delicately before pressing a kiss to his palm. Placing his hand against the headboard, you thread the tie through the cutouts and secure his wrist in place with a bow. “Other hand.” Jungkook’s doe eyes are wide as he watches you follow the same routine on this hand, hitching him so he sits like a scarecrow against the frame. 

“Let me know if at any time it hurts and you want to stop, okay?” Your hand rests on his cheek, cupping it gently as your eyes search for any signs of fear or wanting to back out.

“I know, babe. Safeword is Velveeta.”

You giggle, climbing off of him so you can move his garment bag a safe distance away. “I can’t believe you chose that as the safeword.”

“Have you heard the way you sound when you get super wet? It’s like Velveeta mac and cheese, you know?”

“And why is that what you equate to a safeword?”

“Because, when I want to feel safe or need comfort, I need to be inside you.”

Jungkook watches your reaction, the way your footsteps falter momentarily as you return back to the bed where he’s sitting patiently, waiting for you. You don’t say anything more, you just pause at the edge of the bed, your hooded eyes only on him. 

Your hands reach behind you, undoing the clasps of your bra so that it falls to the carpeted floor. Your thong drops next to join it in a scant pile that you leave behind to climb back on the bed. Returning to straddling him, you press your chest against his as your hands frame his face. You run your nose along his slowly, bringing your lips to his forehead in an act of closeness so much deeper than sexual—at least to Jungkook it is.

He strains his hands against the ties, already seeking to touch you, hold you, secure you to him. He tilts his head up, seeking your lips instead and you kiss him fully, several pecks before it deepens into a wet, tangle of tongues. Both of you moan; you rock your hips over his clothed cock and he wants to cry because he can’t feel you the way he wants to. Not yet, at least. 

“I’m gonna taste you, yeah?” you breathe out into his mouth, and he nods, eyes blown as he watches you lower your body until your head hovers over his lap. He can see the sheen you left behind on the black fabric, a thin oval shape that glistens from your fresh arousal. You pull at the waistband, hands cheekily grazing his cheeks as you reveal him.   

He’s somewhat hard, naturally, and pants in anticipation as you make yourself comfortable between his thighs. He’ll never get over the feeling you give him when you admire his length. He’s sure he’s told you before, but no one cherishes his cock the way you do. He feels all but one muscle relax as your mouth envelops his tip, all soft and wet, warm and comforting like your pussy—a great alternative, he thinks.

If the first moment you taste him relaxes him, the moments ensuing are the opposite, causing his muscles to expand and contract as your sinful mouth glides up and down along his shaft. It’s low-key infuriating for Jungkook that you make him feel this good and he can’t even touch you. 

The headboard creaks slightly and you narrow your gaze in warning, mouth stuffed full of his length and unable to reprimand him. Jungkook lets out a series of chuffs at the scene spread before him: you, naked and drooling into his lap with eyes cutting into his soul for the simple fact that he wants to reward you with touches for the way your throat, mouth, and tongue treat his prized possession. 

“Please, babe, wanna touch you too,” he whines out, hoping to appeal to your nurturing side. And it does work. Kind of. He watches (he can’t do much else) as you pop off his cock with that lewd sound he so enjoys hearing your lips make against the tip, and crawl back up his body. Your chest is heaving slightly as you fill your lungs, but you ignore all attempts by Jungkook to nip at you with his own lips. 

“Scooch down,” you demand, and he listens well like a pupil as you guide his wrists and ties down to the bottom edge in turn. You have to get off the bed to go to the end, wrapping your soft hands around his ankles and pulling him so he slides across your sheets, arms mostly extended. “Only because you’ve been good, and I don’t want to risk you breaking my headboard.” 

Jungkook is a little confused at how laying flat is a reward, as it makes it harder for him to watch you, until you climb back onto the bed facing the opposite direction. “Fuck, yes,” he practically sings, but you just shake your head with a smile as you grip his hard-on in your fist. 

“Let’s see how well you keep your focus, baby.” It’s a taunt that you pair with a shake of your hips before lowering your glistening pussy lips to his waiting mouth. Jungkook loves how turned on you get just by sucking his cock, wants to taste the arousal created just for him, by him, and loves a good challenge.

His mouth is open when you nestle yourself against him, tongue out and lips ready to make out with you. You squeeze him in your palm, a whimper as your back arches from the heat of his mouth and Jungkook has to lift his head a bit to chase your movements. “Don’t run, wanna make you feel good, too.”

He hears you take a deep breath, breasts rubbing against his lower abdomen as you lick at him before dropping your hips once more. Jungkook resumes his feasting, spurred on by the little sounds you make as you rock back and forth on his face. He loves that you’ve split your knees on either side of his shoulders; he can’t use his hands to hold you wide, but you do a great job keeping your pussy open for him to tease with his tongue.

The switch between who is dominating who is fast—he knows that you must’ve been aching and throbbing between your thighs before letting him touch you, and now you’re closer to climax than he is. It’s also Jungkook’s specialty; what can he say? He likes to eat.

When you catch your rhythm on his face, you lose your rhythm with your mouth, instead using your hands to stroke him as you sit up higher and higher. Your left hand grips his thigh, right hand stroking him in time as Jungkook groans from below you. He loves when you do this: give in to the pleasure and suffocate him, and almost whines in despair when you lift up to check-in.

“Can you breathe? Am I killing you?”

“If you don’t sit back down on my face and let me eat this pussy—mmphh.” 

Jungkook doubles down his efforts, dropping and raising his chin in order to lick you from top to bottom and when you adjust slightly so he can access your clit, he gently suckles it as your thighs shake and you cry out his name. 

“Fuck, Jungkook—holy fuck!”

You collapse onto him, laying your head on his pelvis as your body shivers from the aftershocks. 

“And you thought I would lose focus,” he jokes, but you seem to take it seriously.

“Ah, you’re right. You didn’t get to finish. I got you.”

“Hey, you know I never have to cum, just making sure you get off makes me feel good.” Jungkook hates that you might think this is just a sex exchange, needs you to know it’s more than that. You sit up and shift around, body moving to align with his. 

“And I like knowing I made you feel good.” You kiss him deeply with tongue. “We’re perfect that way, huh?”

Jungkook wishes more than once that he could say what he wants to say. That you’re perfect for each other—probably soulmates—bets he’s met you in another life. Instead, no words come out of his mouth as you face away from him. You throw a mischievous smile over your shoulder before you spit in your hand and grasp him, moving to hover over his pelvis. 

“You’re actually mean for this,” he says, watching as you sink onto him, and he’s able to watch your lips part around his cock, stretching to fit his girth until you bottom out. Your cute ass hides the view until you lift up again, revealing the glistening trails of cum that decorate his veins and he can’t stop himself from pulling at the ties. Jungkook just wants to help guide you, wants to put his hands on your cheeks and spread them apart so he can see the stretch of your pussy as you ride him, maybe even press his thumb to your puckered hole, watch as that shiver runs down your spine in ecstasy. 

“Safeword?” Your concern shows in your tone and the way you slow your movements. 

“Don’t need it, just wanna fucking touch you.” He would hate how whiney he sounds if he didn’t know you thrived off it—can feel it in the way you clench for him. 

“If you use it, I’ll release you from your shackles…” you counter, and how dare you giggle at Jungkook, knowing using the safe word gives him what he wants, but he’ll never use it with you. How can he when he feels his safest right now, balls deep.? 

“It’s fine,” he grits out, bucking his hips to get you to move again, ride him again, but you don’t. Instead, you rise up, keeping just the tip in until you are able to rotate around and face him. You look torn, teeth worrying your bottom lip about whether to untie him or not, safe word be damned. “Don’t do it unless you want to.”

Jungkook watches the debate swirl in your eyes, before you reach up and tug at the bow ends, letting him free from his confines. Instantly, his hands move to your body, fingers wrapping around your ribs as his thumbs settle under your breasts before moving down to trace the outline to your hips. With a firm tug, he seats you once more, a groan of curse words slipping out. You’re still so wet from the mixture of his spit and your own orgasm spread along his shaft that he slides into you like a glove, nestled tight between your walls.

Small hands press to his chest, and your thumbs rub circles around his nipples as you begin to ride him, pussy walls quenching the thirst for you as he fights to keep his eyes open so he can watch your tits bounce in his face. 

“That’s it, baby, ride my cock,” he encourages, “only you ride me this good, fuck—so good for me.” 

You smile at his praise, moving to lay chest to chest so you can really roll your hips, sheathing and unsheathing him in rapid succession. The clapping of your skin against his fills the room, creating a harmonious sound paired with the heavy breathing and sweet murmurs and whines. Jungkook feels his control slipping as his hands grasp your cheeks and spread them, allowing him to reach deeper inside of you. He feels the flutters that let him know you’re so close to a second orgasm, so he plants his feet into your mattress and begins to jackhammer up into your aching cunt. 

Your teeth press into his shoulder, cries muffled, but he keeps going, even after he feels you contract and release, wetness pooling below his belly button as he gets closer and closer to joining you. 

“Jungk—shit, shit, I’m—” 

He’s not expecting you to cum for a third time, didn’t realize his repetitive stroke to keep him in your pleasure longer would catapult you, so when you do—and hard at that—it takes him as well. His cock throbbing from how hard he fills you up, cum milking in spurts that leak out around his cock as he fucks you through the best of it until neither of you can take anymore. 

—————

Jungkook’s left hand plays with the strands of your hair as you sleep on his chest. His cellphone’s brightness is turned all the way down so as not to disturb your beauty rest. Not that Jungkook thinks you need it. His smile from the thought of your beauty fades as he focuses back on his phone. There’s a tightness in his chest under your head that isn’t stemming from the pressure of your body. 

He knows he hasn’t done anything wrong, in fact—he’s very much within his rights to do whatever he wants, with whoever he wants, but the only person he wants to do things with is you. It actually makes him a little irritated that he shouldn’t feel guilty. He wants a good reason to turn away any and all advances women (and even some men) make on him. 

When everyone knows you’re single, it’s a bit harder to say no to dates with people. Especially if it’s someone Jungkook might’ve been interested in at one point in time. How does he explain that he can’t give someone else a chance because he’s holding out for you? That he’s too busy building his own courage to tell you that he wants you, to let another person (like the girl texting him) into your spot? 

He scrolls through the messages SoHee left him while he was busy fucking you into the mattress during round two after a break to rest and refuel with Korean BBQ takeout and a Netflix movie.

stay tuned for “so break me off another night” coming 8-10-2023!

↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2023. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

[lincolndjarin]

A Little Mishap.

main masterlist ✧ kinktober masterlist ✦

kinktober : day five - afab!reader x dark!francisco morales

prompt : hate sex [ 18+ mdni ]

word count : 1.4k (sorry all of these are so short, there's so many i've been struggling to make them longer)

summary : READ ALL WARNINGS. THIS IS MY FIRST DARK FIC. you and frankie return to base camp after an unsuccessful mission, each of you blaming the other for the outcome.

warnings, etc. : dead dove do not eat, dubcon/noncon, dark!frankie, unprotected p in v, spanking, use of restraints, panty gag, painful sex, degradation, orgasm denial, creampie, ambiguous ending, probably other things lmk if i forgot any tags

a/n : a lot of my october stuff is gonna be barely edited so my apologies for that but this is my first time writing frankie but also my first time writing any sort of dark fic and i'm definitely feeling anxious about posting this but here it is uhhhh yeah. i've been finishing all of these before work this week and having this tiny little time crunch before doing a ten hour shift really wakes me the fuck up lmao.

He shoves you into the tent, both of you fuming at this point. Neither one of you speaks as you take a seat on your cot, putting your head in your hands. After a moment you can see his boots appear in front of you. 

“I can’t fuckin’ believe you.” He growls and you feel your jaw tense as you look up at him. 

“You can’t believe me?” You say incredulously. “If it weren’t for me we’d have nothing.” 

“If it weren’t for you we might have everything.” He hisses, planting a hand firmly on your shoulder as he shoves you back into the wall, you sit up quickly, kicking his knee in retaliation, watching as he slumps to the floor. 

“I did exactly what Santi would have wanted me to do in that situation.” You usually don’t physical when you two fight, (which is happening more and more often these days) but today you’re fed up with him, you’d been on that mission with just him for over a week when he’d fucked up. You could have lost everything if you’d listened to him, at least now you had half the haul. 

“La puta…” He grumbles, grabbing you by your ankles as you lean back to kick him again. “Os voy a dar una lección.” He mumbles, twisting your legs until you stop resisting. You swallow a squeak that threatens to bubble up from the pain, you’re about to swing on him when he pushes you back down, his hands swiftly yank your pants down making you freeze in shock. He doesn’t give you a chance to protest as he drags you off the cot, knocking the wind out of you as you hit the tent floor.

“Asshole!” You yelp as he pins you down with his knees, taking both your wrists in one large hand as you squirm beneath him, trying to flip him off you.

“Fucking- quit it.” He delivers a sharp slap to your jaw promptly halting your struggle as you scowl at him. You’re about to hurl another insult at him when you hear the familiar sound of his switchblade flipping open. “Don’t move.” He mumbles as you feel the cold steel against your hip and in an instant you hear a slicing, followed by the same on the other side, you squeeze your thighs together instinctively as he pulls your panties off with ease now that the sides are torn.

“Frankie!” You shriek and he takes the opportunity to shove the bunched up fabric between your teeth.

“‘Talk too damn much.” You try to kick him again as he tugs your pants the rest of the way down, bringing them up as he haphazardly flips you onto your stomach, binding your hands behind your back with one of your pant legs. You’re about to spit your panties out when you feel the steel on your throat. “You keep that smart mouth of yours stuffed or I’ll find another way to shut you up.” His blade digs into your flesh as a silent warning and you don’t dare. He gives you a minute to decide what you want to do and you choose to just stay still, trying desperately to steady your breathing. 

He digs his knee into your lower back one more time, eliciting a pained groan from you before slotting himself between your thighs. You’re dizzy from everything happening so fast and he doesn’t give you much of a chance to process any of it as he takes hold of your makeshift cuffs, dragging you upright as you kneel, his free hand wrapping around your waist to cup your mound. 

“You know how often I think about this?” He rests his temple on yours as his chin sits on your shoulder, his body heat suffocates you. 

How many times had you reluctantly thought about the same thing? Rolling to face away from him in your shared tent and shoving your hand between your legs, imagining what it would be like when he finally got sick of your shit and bent you over. You’re snapped out of your thoughts as he dips two fingers between your folds with a satisfied sigh. He slides his digits back and forth, scooping up your abundant wetness with a throaty chuckle.  

“You get off on bein’ a brat?” He dangles his fingers in front of your face before rubbing your slick onto your parted lips, forcing you to taste your own arousal. “Then I’ll treat you like a brat.” He tangles his fingers in your hair, yanking your head up as you feel him grind the front of his pants against your ass. “Fuckin’ soaking me.” He bends you over, forcing your ass up and pushing your face into the floor. He keeps one hand locked around your wrist as the other shoves his own pants down. You whine into the makeshift gag. “Maybe I’ll just fuck some obedience into you.” 

You let out a squeak as he slaps your rear. He lets his palm rest there, before roughly spreading your cheeks. You hear him spit, followed by the sensation of it dripping down your seam, you can feel him lining himself up at your entrance, all of his actions are rushed and you just can’t keep up, your body doesn’t even have time to make an attempt at defending yourself as he rams himself into you without warning. A muffled squeal falls from your lips as he beings to fuck you mercilessly, giving you no time to adjust to the sheer size of him. 

With your face pressed into the floor you can’t see him but you can certainly feel just how thick he is. The underlying pleasure does nothing to soothe the feeling of being split open by him. 

“Jesus-” He grunts out, your pussy gushing around him only spurs him on, his movements somehow becoming harsher as he bumps against your g-spot with ever slam of his hips, the combines overstimulation and pain makes your eyes water, a few tears slipping past your lash line. “Dunno how I’m gonna last in such a tight cunt.” He slaps your ass again, hard enough that you’re pretty sure you’ll have a mark, drawing a sob from you. “Fuckin’ choking my cock when I do that.” 

He spanks you again, a loud crack rings throughout the tent as your cunt involuntarily clamps down on him, his hips stuttering forward. 

“You fucking love this, don’t you?” His voice is low and dangerous as the rough denim of his jeans scratches at your thighs. “Is that why you keep squeezin’ me?” You don’t realize he expects a response until he smacks you again. “You love this?” You nod fervently, mumbling something similar to a yes into your panties. “You wanna finish on my cock?” Much to your own dismay you nod once more.

You don’t know how, but against all odds you really are close. The coil tightening in your stomach threatens to consume you as you try desperately to force yourself over that edge to no avail.

“That’s too bad, only good girls get to come.” He growls, readjusting himself so one hand is tangled in your hair and the other is gripping your wrists, keeping you hovering above the tent floor rather uncomfortably, your lurch forward with every one of his brutal thrusts. You groan something that sounds like his name but you know it’s useless to try and reason with him. With a few more long drawn out thrusts you feel him burst within you, his grip on your hair tightens and you shriek as his release begins dripping from your swollen cunt as he slips out of you.

Your tears are drying on your face and you slump forward once his hands release you. Your body continues to buzz with frustration, a small part of you is genuinely upset at your lack of an orgasm. You can hear the rest of your mission party returning as Frankie leans forward and presses a kiss between your shoulder blades, a sharp contrast to everything he just did to you. You can hear the zipper on his pants as he pulls himself together, leaving you wrecked on the floor. 

“Why don’t we see how Pope feels about your little mishap?” He whispers before you turn your head just in time to watch him lean out of the tent, calling Santiago over.

a/n : i would love any sort of feedback on this?? i've never written anything like this before so i'm a little nervous.