#<- yeah I think that tag gives away somethin-

[c00kietin]

ROXIE!!! >:33

I want to talk a bit about her more so. yeah.

I haven't given her a specific age, but she's a young adult!

I just use she/her pronouns, but I don't think she'd be bothered if you used they/them or it/its either.

Aroace!! Maybe it's just because she's like my child and don't really like the idea of her being in a relationship and it's simply something she's not interested in.

She's not really human either?? I mean, she has a set of chompers and has no nose but that's kind of it-

Oh and she's very physically strong!! She could punch a hole through somebody if she wanted to.

She uses this strength to kill people and eat them :D

Roxie has eaten humans her entire life, after finding out that the vast majority of other foods and drinks make her sick.

If she's really desperate, she'll go for animal meat but human flesh does a lot better for her health.

She doesn't have much of a preference, but finds it a lot more convenient when the victim has less hair.

She doesn't eat teenagers or children much either since they don't provide her with enough food. She might have one as a midnight snack :3

anyways moving on from that edgy killing stuff- Roxie has her hair tied up into two buns most of the time, and doesn't like wearing skirts or dresses. They feel like they limit her movement a lot.

Which she does a lot of. Moving. She doesn't like being bored and likes to climb things and sprint around like a cat.

She enjoys fighting/wrestling others as well!

She doesn't have other hobbies other than that- who knows, she might gain a new skill someday.

She does like listening to music! While I do associate songs with Roxie and stuff, I think an artist she would listen to the most would be Blondie and the Runaways- idk why I just picture her singing those :D

edit: I now have decided she listens to Insane Clown Posse too hee hee

Wait, almost forgot about Lucia- I might make a proper profile for her someday, but let's just say she has done some pretty illegal stuff as well and kind of took in Roxie so they can both avoid trouble. Unfortunately, Roxie is like a three year old with knife and causes trouble regularly.

They're like the vine "Let me see what you have- " "A KNIFE!" "NO!" lol

anyways thanks for reading this far you get a gold star :>

[d6volution]

Nascent

Jax/Reader. [Fem alinged reader.]

tags: oral sex, virginity, loss of virginity, established relationships, soft(?) jax, fluff, and smut, jax has a tongue.

Also found on my Ao3 | 2k words.

minors dni.

Jax's gloved fingers tip toed up your side, and you shivered.

"What's wreckin' ya mind dollface, you're bein a little too quiet tonight." You shuffled on the bed before rolling onto your side to face him. "Thinking too much.. I miss home. Being stuck here.. sucks." Jax was silent as you spoke, but a lazy smile was atill present on his lips. "Mnh. Yeeaaahh.. never gets old does it?" Jax laid on his back, hands folded behind his head now. 

You took this chance to lay on his chest, nuzzling him a little. He grinned , but before he could say something sly you spoke up instead— 

"Jax, I ... think I wanna try it." You mumbled into his chest. 

"Mhmm.. try what?" His eyes were closed now. He was clearly relaxing, and your words weren't exactly clicking right now. 

"It.. you know.. I just need something to take my mind off of things and—" Jax suddenly sat up , his chest bumping into your nose. His hands were on your shoulders, steading you. "You're not messin' with me, are ya? I'd like to think I've been really respectful of your boundaries lately, ya know." It sounded like he didn't believe you, but he was trying his hardest not to sound like an ass. He got a few gropes in here and there but never pushed you farther than you wanted to go. 

"I'm.. serious. We'll just take it slow.." You said and felt your cheeks growing warm at the thought of being intimate with him. You've thought about it a lot but always chickened out.

"I dunno toots, I'm not sure I could hold bac—..." His hand was gliding up your back, but you shot him a look and he chuckled. Raising his hands in his defense. "Alright, alright slow it is.." After all he doesn't have to move fast to drive you crazy anyways. 

"W.. Well how do we.. start? It's.. not like I can make out you.. I think." Right, you guys always exchange nuzzles instead. But Jax rolls his eyes and adjusts himself on the bed, "Just lay back will ya? I'll lead the way." 

You swallowed and did like he said, falling to the plush of your bed and you felt his hands on your legs. Spreading them apart , you were resisting a little and he paused. "C'mon , I said I'd be gentle and I will babe. Scouts honor." He crossed his heart before grinning down at your nervous form. 

"S.. Sorry, I haven't even been this far in the real world no less the digital.." You said embarrassed by your lack of experience. Hoping Jax wouldn't tease you too badly, but he seemed to be taking your feelings into consideration. 

"Digital or not , I'm glad ya happened to save yourself for me. Now let me show you how much I appreciate that.. yeah?" He removed your lower clothing and the cold air hitting your skin caused you to shiver. You swore you saw his eyes grow dark for a moment but you didn't have a chance to analyze his expression too much before he yanked you a little by your ankles down the bed and closer to him. "Eep..!"  His head was in between your legs now, and you felt something wet running along your thighs, "Jax !?" 

"Mmn? I'm in the middle of something doll—" 

"I.. Is that your ..tongue..!?" You cut him off and he chuckled you could feel his breath against your skin but he didn't answer. Continuing his assault on your thighs until the wet muscle finally found your folds and you stiffened up, trying to move away from the strange and new sensation but his hands pulled you back gently. "Mnh.. listen , babe. Ya gotta let me know if I'm doin' somethin' wrong alright?" He lifted his head, leaving your cunt clenching and aching for more.

"N.. No, I..I'm sorry I was just surprised— I didn't know you could.. it doesn't matter just continue.. please." You turned your head to the side, avoiding his intense eye contact.

"Before that, give me a word. So....ya know. I'll know when to stop," He said , still admiring your more vulnerable position right now.

"Uh.." You can't think, your mind clouded by the ever growing lust bubbling in your core. "I.. I don't know.. uh, circus!"

He scoffed, clearly amused. "How original." 

"Ha. Ha. I can't really think right now, Jax– aahh..!" Your hips bucked as his tongue flicked against that sensitive bean hidden between your folds. Oh, he liked that noise. A little too much, and now he needed more. And he a knew a trick that would keep you singing so sweetly for him. 

He licked and flicked at your clit before flatting his long tongue against you dragging his tongue agonizingly slow along your puffy cunt before pulling back, maybe because your thighs were crushing his head now. "Look toots, I know I'm rockin your world here but ya gotta keep those legs open for me yeah?" He said in a somewhat strained voice, prying your legs apart again.

You nodded, your eyes glossy with tears. You were so needy in this moment that you'd do anything he'd ask. "Close 'em again and I'll stop, how about that for a little motivation.~" His voice was playful but, you knew he was serious and that made your insides twist a little.

"Th.. That isn't fair Jax..!" You whined and kept your legs spread even so, though they trembled and you felt even more exposed keeping them open yourself rather him holding them apart.

"Pleaaasee. To be honest, I think it's perfectly fair. You told me to take slow, not that I couldn't be a little mean.. isn't that what ya love about me after all?" He said in a breathy tone, before his eyes were on your cunt again.

"You're gorgeous ya know that? Don't.. tell anyone I said that. Compliments are like currency here." He said with a tad bit of annoyance lacing his tone, "I only wanna spend that on you .." He muttered before lowering himself to go down on you again. 

But this time, he was purposely being more attentive. His tongue even diving into your cunt, wiggling its way into your tight hole. And a thick finger sliding inside, you yelped and your legs threatned to close around his head but you forced to yourself to hold your trembling thighs apart. Having his finger to clench down on made it easier to cause friction and push you closer to climax.

Tears spilled over your cheeks from the stimulation and frustration. 

"Mmn... mmf.." Jax moaned against your sopping wet cunt, removing his finger and using his tongue instead.. thrusting it in and out of your hole. His lidded eyes bored into your skull, you looked delicious to him when you cried.

You couldn't take it, your body jolted and legs locked around his head as you came. Soiling his face in the process. "Hh.. Hhaa..! Damn it.." 

Jax tutted as he lifted his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Ya didn't keep your legs open at the end there.. Hm, I'm not sure I should let you get away with that." The tone of his voice was playful. He grins, that shit eating grin while staring at you as he climbed atop your quivering body. You were clearly still coming down from your high. 

"H..Huh..? Jax.. I couldn't help it.." You sighed, chest heaving up and down. "Please.." You reached out for his hand and he allowed you, still speaking as his gloved thumb rubbed the back of your hand gently. 

"Yeah, yeah of course you couldn't.. .I'm good at what I do after all," He said and kneeled in front of your spread legs. "But, we can agree ya need just a little punishment right?" He took your intertwined hands and locked them atop your head, leaving you a little exposed and vulnerable to his touch. 

Pulling his cock from his overalls with the opposite hands, he started stroking it slowly. "But, I'll be gentle like ya said.." He gives a wink before leaning down and nuzzling the side of your face reassuringly. It's all apart of the bit, "You ready for this?" He whispered, making sure you were okay to move forward. 

You were soaked between your legs. More than ready but still a little nervous. "Ready.." You agreed quietly, the tension in the air was palpable. 

You should be relaxed after his reassurance, but the size of his cock resting in his hand was making your body tense and cunt clench around nothing.. in both anticipation and a dash of fear. 

He rubbed the thick tip against your sopping wet hole, and dragged it against your clit, teasing you. "Gentle.. yeeah... mn.." He muttered, getting lost in this bit of pleasure. "So good for me.."

Gentle. Slow. Teasing. 

Fuck, you couldn't take it. He had to be grinding against your cunt for two minutes straight now. 

"Jax..please..please just put it in.." 

"Mmn. Don't worryy..  I'll take of care ya, make you feel reeaal good.." "He said and let go of your hands as he focused on lining himself up with your hole, his tip nudged at your tight hole. Slipping a few times when he tried to push forward, "Too fuckin' tight doll, hold on yeah..? Your cute cunt seems to need some convincing.." He thrusted forward rather hard, a few inches finally pushing past the resistance in your cunt. 

"Jax..!" You yelped in pain, a burning sensation was felt in between your legs and he shushed you, staying completely still. "Hey, hey.. I've got ya, I'm right here.. breathe doll." He said and watched your expressions.. so determined to take him, yet so vulnerable. It made him throb inside of you.

After a several seconds you finally spoke. "Y.. You can move now.." 

He was trying so hard to hold back, it's been forever since he was buried in a pussy. So once you gave him the okay he began to move, albeit slow. More inches sunk into your wet hole. Causing your back to arch a little, "Nngh..." Jax was grunting in your ear until he finally bottomed out inside of you, "There we go, nice and deep in there... ya feel that? Feel me?" He said as his hand traced your stomach just long your belly button.

"So big .. Jax.. feels good.." You panted out, unintentionally bucking your hips forward. "Mmn.. I know doll, Im gonna move alright..?" He said and you nodded, arms around his neck now as he started to slide in and out of you, lewd squishing noises and soft moans and grunts filled the room. You were both lost in the pleasure, your body relaxing more and Jax becoming a bit more rough.

"Yeah.. nngh.. ju-just like that ... take it .." He panted out, taking one of your legs and placing it on his shoulder, his hips were a blur now but your expressions and cries of pleasure was all the reassurance he needed to keep drilling into your cunt. 

Your mind felt cloudly with lust, but that unmistakable knot in your stomach was only getting tighter, threatening to burst. He could feel you, and took this opportunity to draw gentle circles along your clit, "T.. There ya go.. wanna come for me, c'mon.." He egged you on , rolling his hips deep into your cunt. His full weight accompanied each hard thrust.

You tried to hold on , but he knew how to hit every sensitive spot. Over and over. His hips slapping against yours , the sound of your bodies colliding rung in your ears.

"Ffuuahh Jax, gonna co.. come .. gonna..!!" You whined, nails digging into his back as you held him close. Cunt clamping down on his size hard. His own hips stuttered, "D..Damn it, doll.. ya tryna milk me or something..?" He sighed as he spilled into your cunt, unable to resist the way you clamped down onto him. 

He gave a few more shallow thrust, forcing back in the cum that threatned to spill out. "You're perfect.." He sighed out, clearly spent and slowly pulling out of your twitching hole.

"Mmn.. thank you Jax, for this.." You kissed his cheek and out of all things, that seemed to make him flush a little. 

"Don't sweat it.. let's," He cleared his throat, "Get you cleaned up alright.. I'll run a bath," 

"Can't we cuddle for a bit first..?" 

Jax froze and rubbed his neck, "Look toots, I'm not sure about gettin all cuddled up on cum stained sheets," He rose his hands, "Hey, but if thats what you're into I'm not one to kinksh– oof." You tossed a pillow at his face, and he chuckled. 

"Heh, like I thought, now let's get all cleaned up first, then I'll cuddle all you'd like doll.

"Sound like a deal?" 

[phyrestartr]

Their Burning Bodies Keep Us Warm (2/2) | Sukuna x M!Reader

W/C: 3.4k #NSFW, p0rn with plot, top!Sukuna, bottom!Reader, ABO dynamics, cannibalism, mentions of sex trafficking, mentions of cults, questionable relationship, suggested Stockholm syndrome, post-apocalypse, enemies to friends to lovers, angst, drama, gore, typical zombie shite, not rlly edited kekw SORRY tags: @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @tr4nniez @kamote-kuneho @prettorett @kindadolly @inflatabledinosaurs19 @memedealer-exe

“How's it look?” Sukuna groaned after you peeled back the bandages and gauze.

You stayed quiet while you thought, but ultimately had to ask, “How's it feel?” 

Sukuna scoffed. “Aches like fuck.”

“You should take Tylenol or something.”

“Hah. Like I'd give up drinking.” 

You sighed and washed his back with the usual tincture of salt and water, earning yourself a sharp, whiny snarl. Carefully, as though to apologize, you dabbed away scabbed blood and whatever else clung to the DIY sutures. 

“Then it'll keep hurting.” The dark, black bruises around the wound promised it. “But…it doesn't look infected.” You pressed against the reddened, irritated skin with a light touch, and breathed a sigh of relief; there didn't seem to be any suspicious discharge or signs of serious infection. Hopefully it'd stay that way. 

“Silver fucking lining, I guess.” The alpha hung his head and let you go about cleaning it thoroughly to prep for re-wrapping it. “You're not too squeamish around this shit, hey?”

“I guess,” you said lamely. You glanced at the back of his head in thought before focusing on your task again. “The whole world is shitty. So. Guess I got used to it.”

“You sure you don't have a history?” He asked, glancing back at you. 

You shrugged. “I was a crook, but I only stole. Never really fought, never murdered either. But I saw shit, sure. Patched some people up before, too. Nothing like this, though.” 

Sukuna nodded and looked ahead again, resting his chin on the back of the chair. “That explains it.”

“Explains what?” You wondered.

"Explains why you're not boring me," he said, nonchalant. 

You paused to cast the back of his head another wary, confused glance. It was a strange comment. You weren't sure what the implications meant for those who came before you.

"What would happen if I bored you?" You asked.

"I'd get rid of you," he answered, too truthful. "Kill you. Eat you. Kick you out. Somethin' like that." 

Sukuna looked at you again, an amused glimmer of insanity igniting in his eyes. You did your best to look away, to not engage with the hellspawn repossessing his near-tolerable person. 

"Oi, oi, quit looking so pathetic," he taunted, voice singing with playful sadism. "There's no room for that if you wanna survive out here, brat. Besides, our deal is pretty good, isn't it?" 

You pursed your lips, trying to ignore the fact that he just declared that he'd eat you if he got bored of you. How were you supposed to relax? 

Yet you tried anyway. "Yeah. Right." 

"Don't believe me?" He questioned. 

"I do. Just--you just told me you woulda ate me if I was boring." You tried not to sound too flabbergasted and awestruck, but the warbly disbelief came through anyway. 

And Sukuna laughed. Not in that heinous, chilling way, but low and warm. It almost made you think he could be somewhat fond of you. 

"Well, you're still breathing, aren't ya?" He asked.

You shrugged before starting to re-bandage his back. "Well. Yeah. I guess." 

"You sound anymore fuckin' unsure and I'll take your damn head off, omega." Sukuna sighed, still sounding content. "Dunno what shit you've been through, but you survived it. You're strong. Remember that." 

For the first time in your life, you felt butterflies in your stomach. 

--

You're strong. Remember that. 

Those words festered in your mind, bringing a much-needed sense of calm to your exhausted body and soul. You didn't realize how little you recognized your own strength, your own vicious mettle that kept you going through the haze of pain and discontent embedded in your life. You almost pitied yourself for your weak mind; when had you fallen so low? Why didn't you realize you were trapped in Tartarus? Did the nightmares and bitter flavours numb it all out?

You rubbed your face. "Think about the now," you mumbled as you poked at the fire with an especially long stick you'd taken a liking to. "No point thinking about the past." 

"Better not be mumblin' seance-y, satanic cult shit into the fire," Sukuna called from the kitchen. "I'll be pissed." 

Your face flushed with more than the fire's heat. "No! I'm just--I'm talking to myself." 

"In a creepy way?" 

"No!" 

"Coulda fooled me." 

You turned to the kitchen with a sour look, but quickly averted your gaze again; normally, you'd help him prepare and ration food, but when he took to chopping up chunks of person, you couldn't stomach it. 

Sukuna must've seen you look away, judging by his sudden, cheeky cackling. "What, still squeamish, omega? You don't got a problem when you're eatin' 'em."

You grimaced. "Yeah, I don't like thinking about it. Feels...wrong."

"Pussy."

"Hey."

"It's easy meat," Sukuna continued. "Better than eating grass 'n leaves 'n shit. Besides, makes you tougher."

You huffed. "Tougher. Right." 

Your partner in crime snorted. "You know how vaccines work, omega?" 

"Duh." You stabbed at the fire a few more times, stopping only when Calcifer spit a mouthful of sparks at you. "Introduce a weak strain of a virus into the body so it can make antibodies and fight against it." 

Sukuna hummed in agreement. "So what do you think happens when we eat our doomsday virus, huh?" 

You blinked owlishly at the flames. "Is...that can't be true," you asked, itching at your arm. "No way we’re becoming--"

"Immune." 

Sukuna walked to your side and knelt beside you, showing off the small collection of scarred bitemarks dotting his arm.

Your touch ghosted against the marks in wonder. Maybe he was lying. Maybe these bites came from something else. Something more demented than even the undead. 

"But how could the virus survive? When it's, uh, cooked, I mean," you asked as you held his forearm with both hands and examined further. 

"Guess medium-rare doesn't take care of everything." He shrugged and watched you press against the raised skin incessantly. "But hey, maybe I'm just a freak of nature. Better than normal fucks. Godly."

You looked at him with yet another grimace, and he grinned. 

"You've been eating people for too long," you decided. “It's made you delusional.”

"Probably." He moved to get up when you let go of him, but paused with a second thought.

Sukuna reached for you, brushing some of your hair from your neck. Your heart did more stupid backflips feeling that quiet touch drag along the sloping curve of your neck, down to the source of your alluring redolence. 

His thumb rubbed slow circles against your skin, waking forgotten sparks of bergamot and birch, melding them with his musk of leather and pine. You thought they fit together nicely, in an odd way. Or maybe you were caught up in hopeful delusions his marking always brought you. 

He stood, then, content with his work. "Was in prison when shit hit the fan. Had to get creative." 

You rubbed your neck when he walked away. "I can imagine. Must've gotten pretty overrun." 

"The cells were pretty safe. Most of the prisoners died starving after the outbreak," he said. "Sorry sons of bitches. Couldn't even lob a dead cellmate's head off to save themselves when those idiots turned." 

"That what you did?" You scooted up onto the couch and watched Sukuna putter around the kitchen. You pretended he was cutting up some wild animal instead of human. 

"I killed my cellmate before that," Sukuna said. "Got sent to solitary for it." 

You pursed your lips. "What'd he do?"

“He bored me.”

–

Being in his arms felt safe. You rested easy, no longer fearing his appetite nor his wrath in the brief moments of consciousness before darkness overtook you. He held you before, too, pulled you to his chest to stay warm whenever the night grew too cold and the fire dwindled; now, however,  it was different.

Now, you woke up facing him. You woke with newfound adoration for the gnarled bump fucking up the bridge of his nose (something that told of far too many fights) and you realized you quite liked the sound of his soft, rumbling snores. Even the way his body burned too hot eased your nerves when it once suffocated you with sweltering anguish.

You were careful not to say you felt anything for him, however; he was the beast who'd stolen you away from your short-lived freedom, and kept you here for his own selfish pleasure. A warning danced in the forefront of your mind, shaking its head every time you looked your captor's way. You knew better. You knew better. 

But he wasn't so bad. Though that was what Belle said about her Beast, wasn't it? Before they fell in love. Before their happily ever after.

You shifted just the slightest bit closer to him, letting your nose barely nudge against his before freezing, waiting to see if he'd stir and wake from the mild disturbance. He'd slept through worse, you imagined. Most were light sleepers throughout the apocalypse, but he–

His eyes opened. The pounding of your heart must have been the cause. 

Sukuna didn't have words, and neither did you; being here, being so close to him, face to face and finally taking in what he looked like, about to find out what he tasted like, said everything in a language he understood.

Because he closed the gap first. After a sharp glance down to your lips then back to your eyes, he nudged your nose aside and pressed his lips against yours. And you pushed into him, tugged yourself closer with your hands in his shirt and then in his hair while his own smoothed over your side to grab and grope at your ass and whatever softness from the old world still clung to your figure. 

Your hands pulled at his shirt, and he got the message. He rolled on top of you and sat up on his knees, straddling your waist as he pulled off his shirt to let you see glimmers of scars arching against defined slopes of muscle, disappearing beneath cloth bandages. Your breath hitched; he was gorgeous in ways you couldn't describe. 

He adjusted, settling between your legs before leaning down and kissing you again while those curious hands of yours felt for the secrets etched into his skin like hieroglyphics left only for the blind. Those marks told stories from start to finish. They hinted at his life up until this point. You wondered if any of them reminisced of smiles and laughter. 

Sukuna's hands coasted up your shirt to explore you, too. His thumbs pressed between every rib, followed the arch of the cage protecting your heart, before he pinched and teased at the sensitive buds of your chest. You didn't think you'd like it, but the way he tortured you with talented fingers was too good–good enough to drag out the first of many quiet, breathy sounds from you. 

Sukuna pulled your shirt off and tossed it aside. His broad palms smoothed across your skin before he dipped down, and tasted you, running the flat of his tongue against your neck, then back down to the bullied bundle of nerves he'd worked into a frenzy. He bit and nipped, swirled his tongue around the pert nub, and sucked hard enough to bruise and split your delicate skin.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek, stifling the rattling hum reverberating in your chest; you'd never felt so good before. You'd never had someone focus on you like this before. Maybe it was a selfish thing on the alpha's part, or maybe he wanted you to indulge in primal pleasures, too. That errant hand of his groping at your hardened cock suggested as much. 

Your fingers carded through his hair as he left brutal hickeys on your chest and bit at your nipples like he was threatening to take them clean off (thankfully, he seemed to quite like them and left them intact for future use), and then he traveled south, yanking your shorts off and spreading you wide before him. 

Your heart throbbed in your head. It pounded harder still as he stroked you firmly and fully, squeezing at all the right spots while his other hand felt up the softness of your thighs, the slick pooling between your cheeks, the tightening of your sacks. He was so like a cartographer, trying to chart every inch of your body, trying to remember which spots made you jolt and jump. 

And you couldn't help but squawk as he lifted your hips, hauling your legs over his shoulders with little effort, before spreading you wide and licking against your leaking hole. 

Your hands clutched at the sheets desperately. The pants stuttering out of you upscaled when his tongue, the devilish thing, circled around your tight entrance a handful of times before sinking in with the help of his thumbs pulling you open. 

This time, it was Sukuna who moaned, low and dripping with bliss. You couldn't know how it was for him. You didn't know how tasting your slick, drowning in your bergamont-pine perfume in its purest form drove him mad with hunger and want–with need, maybe. Your scent was divine. Your taste was even better. 

So, he took his time. He indulged in lapping at you, coaxing more and more slick to pool from your insides and drip down his chin in sticky, syrupy dollops while you writhed and bucked against his grasp, seeking more but getting too much. Sukuna almost felt for you. Almost. If you didn't want him to eat you alive, you shouldn't have tasted so sweet. 

Eventually, his cock demanded attention, too, and he finally let your hips down to look over your fucked-out expression and heaving chest. And when you stared back at him, eyes heavy and needy, you caught the alien glow of crimson burning in the swathe of shadows dodging the moonlight. It sent an electric thrill dancing up your spine; the monster you once feared was back, and now bewitched by your body's spell. 

Sukuna's pants came off in a slow rush. He tossed them aside and half-heartedly wiped his mouth before looming over you once again, and catching your lips with his. His tongue pushed into your mouth, ripping the tiniest of ah-s from you, and he forced you to taste what was left of your essence against his tongue. Then, like the kiss was just a mere distraction, his head popped into your empty, lonely body, and stretched you with a singe of pain. 

Your fingers dug into his scalp and his back as he forced himself into you inch by inch, pulling out just to push back inside deeper with the aid of your body's viscous desire to find a euphoria of his design. The hasty beginnings of a knot at his base stretched you wider, filled you fuller as he snapped in once more and bottomed out with a growling moan vibrating against your chest.

And, god, it felt good. You were stuffed beyond your limits, struggling to adapt and welcome him inside despite hugging and squeezing him with praise and devotion. It seemed he'd never bothered jamming his entirety into you. He'd been giving you that one, little mercy your entire tenure. 

But now, you were willing to take it, and he was going to give it to you, like it or not. 

His face buried into your neck when he moved. His hips pulled back just a bit before he sunk back inside of you, like he was trying to see just how far he could reach into your struggling, smaller body–and then, he was done testing your shared limits, and he devoured you. 

You clung to his shoulders, clawed at his back, pulled at his hair while he fucked into you. The bed creaked and dragged against the floor with every near-hostile ram into your heat, but you could hardly hear it over the feral, primal noises slipping through his clenched teeth. Your omega fell mute with pleasure and relief, apparently finding peace at being railed into like you were in heat and your mate was in rut. You weren't. He wasn't. You could only imagine what that would be like. 

Profanities hissed from him, as did demented, mumbled praise that you'd keep close to your heart come morning. His knot inflated bigger and bigger, bullying your ass open wider with each violent slam into your core. Normal alphas wouldn't have forced it into you mid-fuck, but he wasn't normal. He wanted to feel your tightness bite down around that sensitive, swollen plug. He needed to hear your sharp mewls and grunts the pain and pleasure forced out of you with every disgusting, wet pop of his cock ripping out of you. He had to keep pushing his limit, pushing your limit, until you got too fucking tight and too fucking hot that you'd force him to stay put and pump his cum into you by the gallon. 

He had to. 

So, when your breath fanned against his hear, when you whispered the most pathetic, “Cum in me,” he went mad. 

He leaned back and folded you in half, ignoring your uncomfortable grimaces before he held you in that mating press and let loose, eyes screwed shut and brow furrowed in concentration while his fangs dug into his lip as he snarled and grunted. 

Blood rushed to his cock with an electric current, pushing his hips to snap against yours harder and faster as his knot inflated fully and struggled to leave the warmth of your tight, clingy hole. But it wasn't enough, it wasn't enough–

Until he looked down at you, and bore witness to your muscles fluttering, your back arching, your mouth hung open with a soundless cry as you came undone, soaked with sweat and slick. 

Sukuna’s hips jolted and stuttered, and he fought to force that thickness into you for the last time before he spilled inside, adding his own kindling to the fire eating you alive. 

You gasped again, hand fisting tighter around your cock as you worked yourself through the unbearable ecstasy crashing down on you in torrential waves. You were a boat in the middle of an ocean, somehow staying afloat despite being in the middle of a world-ending storm–perhaps by the mercy of a beast lingering in the depths.

The aftershocks took too long to die down; Sukuna's shallow thrusts into you didn't help, nor did your own languid stroking, but you didn't want it to help. You wanted to see how much more cum you could force out of the man every time you clenched around him. You wanted to see how much longer the perverse pleasure would plague you if you tortured him just a little more. By the continuous emptying of the man's balls into your inflating core, you'd say you were doing a pretty good job. 

You silently both doubted that stupid knot of his would go down with how worked up he got–normally, it'd take about 5 minutes, but there'd been data recorded suggesting it could take up to an hour if the alpha was determined to have his omega as his permanently. And judging by your solitary existence by his side, it seemed like the latter was possible. 

So, he took great care in maneuvering you both onto your sides to rest more comfortably while you waited and dozed. The time passed with kisses and touches, and the constant drone of purring filling in the gaps where your bodies failed to touch. 

In that moment and onward, you didn't much care that you were his victim. His butterfly caught in a trap, kept docile by the sweet taste of honey.

–

“Looks like the worst is over,” You mumbled, looking over the to-be scar on his back. “You sure you want me to take out the stitches?” 

Sukuna scoffed and looked over his shoulder. “You want those things to fuse into my fucking skin, omega? Take ‘em out.” 

You furrowed your brows, but complied nonetheless. “Doubt they’d fuse to your skin,” You mumbled. 

Sukuna growled at you, and you grunted back, not impressed, no longer intimidated. Things had changed ever since that night. For the better, somehow. You found yourself less intimidated, less afraid, and he seemed to welcome it with open arms and a wolfish grin. You weren’t entirely sure, but you almost felt like it was the definition of mates. 

A banging from the basement made you jump and huff, earning an amused snicker from your partner. 

“Almost stabbed you with the scissors.”

“Don’t fucking stab me with scissors.”

“Not on purpose,” You sighed. “Should we knock them out again?” You wondered as you carefully cut every stitch and gently pulled them free. 

A deathly rasp had you both snapping to attention. A handful of figures lumbered outside the house, shambling and bumping into this and that as they searched for whatever stimulus had caught their attention. You found yourself annoyed, knowing the cattle locked up down below were probably the lure. 

“Well, if they’re gonna be attracting the fucking zombies like that, yeah.” Sukuna yawned and rolled his shoulders once you finished up with a reassuring pat to his back. “Might as well make ‘em fun-sized ‘n store ‘em in the freezer right away while we’re at it. They’ll get too scrawny otherwise.” 

You hummed as you cleaned up. “Isn’t leaner meat better?” 

“Yeah, but the fat’s useful,” Sukuna said with a smirk. He tugged his shirt on and stood, looping his strong arms around your middle while you puttered about and ensured the medical tools and counter stayed clean. “Use it for fires. Keep us warm ‘n shit. ‘Sides, might get shittier meat, but more of it.” 

You smiled a little (not at the idea of using human fat as an incendiary component, but at the little, domestic touch, of course), and nodded to yourself. “Well, I’m not gonna argue. You’ve done this longer than me. It’s not like we can go scavenging with the streets like this either.” 

Another handful of ghouls stumbled by the back door. Everything was barricaded, every window was blacked out, every possible way of entry was evaluated and reinforced, but the presence and proximity of the new rush of undead still unnerved you; you recognized most of them, too, which was an unwelcome touch. Something had gone awry at the mill, the two of you reasoned. Somehow, someone got bit, and the infection spread to the rest of the compound–the rest of the soldiers, at least. 

Most of the undeads wandering about once held positions of power. They once boasted before the cells of omegas, brandishing their medals and ribbons and everything else in a pathetic attempt to earn favour and initiate courtship. Now, it seemed those outside of the cages had seen the cruel, flesh-eating face of karma. You could only hope the lack of familiar, friendly faces meant your kind stayed locked away and safe while the compound exploded. They were strong; they'd make it.

Of course, there were whimpering survivors from your terrorizers’ side, namely the two men downstairs that Sukuna welcomed in with promises of safety and kinship ringing sweet on his tongue. It must've tasted quite bitter when they realized the trap was sprung with no honey to be found. 

Sukuna yawned and let go of you to tug his shirt back on. “Streets'll clear. Just a matter of waiting. Taking care of those two pigs downstairs'll keep shit quiet.” He picked up a hatchet and you shuddered. “We’ll take it from there.” 

You watched him wander to the door leading down to the basement–and then a thought got caught in your mind and sunk its teeth in with desperate need. 

“We should check the compound,” you said. Sukuna paused, and you swallowed down your brimming insecurity. “They have–I know they had medical supplies. And food. We should see what’s left.” 

Sukuna’s shoulders relaxed the slightest bit before he laughed. “‘N here I thought you were gonna beg for me to search for survivors.” 

“What? No, are you kidding me? I just want more medical stuff in case you get yourself hurt again,” you huffed, crossing your arms. 

Your partner threw a doting gaze over his shoulder at you before smirking. “Sounds like a plan.”

[pearlzier]

────⠀ RICH.ᐟREADER struggles with showing love.

NOTES ,, might do a tag list specifically for skater!matt and rich!reader if anyone.... is interested... this is just fluff but i think theyre so cute <3.

you don't really know how to show affection towards those you like or love without spending money. you're so used to others doing it for them—your parents throwing a couple of expensive clothes or jewellery at you for your birthday, your friends taking you out to lavish restaurants as a gift as opposed to something homemade or actually thought out. of course, you like all of those things, who wouldn't? but.. they don't know how to not spend money on those you love.

you don't understand the saying, 'money doesn't buy happiness'. it's managed to make you happy your entire life, so how's that supposed to work? like.. it doesn't make sense. so when matt's birthday's coming up, well, you immediately knew you were gonna buy him something nice and take him somewhere expensive.

but you can't help but think that maybe that's not the best course of action, that matt wouldn't exactly want the generic rich kid birthday starter pack. he's got three siblings, damn it, maybe he'd want something a little more.. meaningful? he's probably seen a few birthday dinners at expensive resturaunts in his time, you doesn't want it to be boring for him. you wanted to make an impact, even if you didn't know how.

it gets to a point where you're stumped, completely. you know matt so well, but are so stuck in your old ways and so used to just shelling out some cash for one day only to do it again and again annually, that coming up with anything that he wanted seemed impossible.

a new skateboard? surely he had enough. protective gear? now that was just comical. you hated the feeling of not being able to come up with a meaningful gift to give him. sure, you two aren't dating, but you're close enough to constitute a gift, right? it pisses you off to no end, to the point of upset. you practically storm into matt's room, having been let in by chris when he saw how distraught you were. "you're so fucking hard to please! how am i supposed to get you a gift for your birthday when, when—"

matt's taken off guard. first of all, how'd you get in? he's assuming it was one of his brothers who'd let you in, but.. second of all, you're so upset. he'd thought he'd done something wrong but you're yelling at him about a gift? his birthday? he blinks for a minute, sitting up, "hey, hey, hey," he starts, frowning. the sight of you so upset makes his heart ache in the worst way possible. getting up from his bed, his gaze rakes over you.

it's appreciative, of course, but also concerned. "you're scarin' me, sweetheart, what's goin' on?" he mumbles, taking a little step closer as he reaches out for you. gently, he places his hands on your arms and draws you a little closer. you look up at him with glassy eyes, a little wet with tears that you try to blink away as to not seem weak or make your mascara run. "stop bein' all.." you don't know what you're protesting against, you really don't.

"all what?" his brows furrow a minute, a small, faint smile ghosting his lips. it only serves to make you a little more upset with how caring he is to you, even when you're a bit of a bitch to him sometimes. hey, he's a bitch in return too.

"all nice. we're supposed to fuck 'n' be all passionate, that kinda thing," you mumble under your breath, lashes fluttering as your eyes lift to his. matt feels a warmth flood his chest and he shakes his head, "don't even want you thinkin' 'bout that whilst you're feelin' like this," he murmurs quietly, tone firm but soft. "you gonna tell me what's up, or—'cause we can just watch a movie or somethin'." as much as he was passionate with your body, he was passionate with your heart too.

"wanted to get you something nice for your birthday, yeah? like.. something you'd enjoy, not some shit you'd say you like and then never use ever again," you start to explain, relaxing a little at the touch on your arms finally and melting your way against him. he hums for a moment, slowly nodding his head at your words. "but nothin's coming to mind at all. blank slate—i can't think of anything you like, i've tried every store, every website." you'd spent hours with your laptop and your soft blankets wrapped around you, just trying to find a single gift for him.

"babe," he sighs at the sight of you, the corners of his lips flitting upwards at the realisation that settles upon him. all this over him? over his birthday? god, you're adorable. "really?"

"what do you mean, really—what type of shitty response is tha—"

"hear me out," matt murmurs, interrupting you gently. he rubs his hands over your arms easily, sighing for a second as his eyes meet yours. "what if i don't want all that? what if i just wanna spend some time with you? y'ever think about that?" his hands slide up over your arms to your neck, fingers curling around the back gently. "that ever cross your mind?"

you scoff instantly at that—"well, who'd want that?" he doesn't admit it, but the sound of you saying that about yourself makes his heart ache in his chest once more. shaking off the pang of hurt, he continues after being quiet for a moment. "me, i'd want that. jus' bein' with you makes me happy. that'd make it a real good birthday." you can't deny there's a warm, fuzzy feeling in your heart when he says that. no one's ever said that your company is all they need to be happy.

you bite your tongue momentarily, considering your words. a bashful little look dawns on your face and you look away with a quiet huff. "yeah?" you mumble, looking up at him through your lashes after. damn it, he makes your heart feel all fluttery and warm like no one else has before. you're not sure whether you like it all that much—since it's so vulnerable, but you can't say you hate it, since you don't. "really?"

he draws you into him, his hand sliding up to the back of your head to cradle it before he holds you against his chest. "i mean it, pretty girl," he murmurs, his words completely genuine and true. he really does mean it, he loves you and your company so damn much—even if he can't say it. he doesn't need your alone time with him to end with having sex, or for you to buy him expensive little gifts, he just needs you. "really do mean it. i like hangin' out with you, ain't it obvious?"

"you're so—like," you don't know how to explain it. your head tilts a little, chin bumping against his chest a little as his fingers brush over your jaw. "so.." you're a little lost for words, admittedly. a smile plays over matt's lips once more, his eyes fluttering over your pretty face.

"so what, babe?"

you're quiet again, considering what to say before you make the decision that words can't describe how you feel enough. so you lean in, grasping at the fabric of his shirt to draw him closer and press your lips against his. it's slow, gentle, he blinks a minute to adjust to the fact you're kissing him, but he melts into it almost immediately. his plush lips against yours feels like heaven, parting a little instinctively. resting his hands on the sides of your face, he holds you against him.

after a little bit, he pulls back. "i get it," he murmurs quietly, "no need to explain. i know." he gets you more than anyone else.

ִ ֹ ★ @mattybsgroupie, @dayzeandhaze, @mattslolita, @stellasturns, @stevelacylovebot, @55sturn, @jetaimevous, @phone4pills, @aesthetixhoe, @venusiers, @chrissdollie, @stvrnmc, @sarosfilms, @beetlejenna, @funkycoloured, @v3nusasagrl, @imwetforyourmom, @deansbite, @beridollie, @https--roman, @sincerebabydoll, @pillwebb, @cayleeuhithinknot, @j2ss7 ִ ꒱

[bluebeary-jay]

Halcyon days

Based on this ask (i was stupid and started writing all this as a new post and not an answer im sorryyy)

Tags: fluff. INSANE amount of tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, takes place after the events of season 1

Warnings: none? there is swearing and suggestive humor tho ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Word count: ~3K

A/N: My sweet anon I'm sorry that I didn't write the 'looking for a place to sleep' bit but I got carried away with your lovely request and it was already longer than I expected lol. I really hope you like it!! 💕 and thank you for being my first request! 😊

You shielded your eyes from the sun and shook your hand again, signaling for Joel to take it.

“Come on, you always whine about your back pains. It’ll do you good.”

“You think lyin’ on the cold hard ground will help me with that?” he asked with tongue in cheek.

“It's actually really soft. Come on, give it a try.” You patted the spot next to you, but the man still didn't move, scouting the area around you instead. You sighed heavily. “Alright, if it's too hard for your back I'll let you lay on me. Happy?”

Joel gave you a sultry look and finally intertwined his fingers with yours.

“I can already tell the ground will be really uncomfortable,” he said teasingly in this sexy drawl of his and you squinted at him.

“Sure you can.”

Joel craned his neck before he let himself get pulled down, and cupped his free hand around his mouth.

“Hey, kiddo!” he yelled to Ellie who was squatting near a small creek down the hill you were lying on. “You alright there?!”

“Yeah, yeah!” the girl shouted back, waving to you both. “Don't come down here, yet!”

“Okay! We’ll be right here if you need anything.”

“Sure thing! Just don't start shagging.”

You choked on air and looked in disbelief in the direction of Ellie’s voice, though you couldn't see the teen from where you were lying, as the view was obscured by high grass.

“Christ, this kid is impossible,” you mumbled as Joel sat down next to you with a loud grunt.

“Tell me somethin’ I don’t know. You didn’t hear her giving me so-called ‘relationship advices’ yesterday. And no,” he added when you opened your mouth, “m’not gonna repeat them to you. It was painful enough to have to endure it alone.”

“You know what they say,” you quirked your lips and he sent you a glare.

“I swear to god, if you quote that dumb comic again…”

You snorted, knowing he was saying it with fondness, judging by his tone and a tug of the corners of his lips. Joel shook his head and laid down slowly on the grass, closing his eyes. You cosied up next to him on your stomach and propped your chin on your hands.

For a couple of seconds you just admired his features and slow rise and falls of his chest, enjoying the quiet atmosphere around you and listening to the crickets chirping and birds singing in the tree crowns.

But of course he didn’t let you indulge yourself, because before long he cracked one eye open and sent you a suspicious glance.

“Why’re you staring?”

“You’ve got something on your cheek,” you answered without missing a beat. Joel wiped his face with an irritated look while you tried your hardest not to laugh out loud.

“Is it still there?” he asked, but you winced and tilted your head discontentedly.

“You just smudged it more. Hold on a second.”

He sighed tiredly and closed his eyes again when you shuffled closer, partially draping yourself over his torso. One of his arms automatically encircled your waist to cuddle you up while he kept the other one under his head. You smirked to yourself and took his face between your hands, pretending to hum in focus. After a couple of seconds Joel cracked his eye open and glanced up at you.

“Jesus, I can feel you burning a hole in my skull. Is my head covered in fungi, or something?”

“Not yet,” you joked. “Keep your eyes closed.”

He exhaled heavily again and relaxed under you, totally oblivious to the mischievous smirk on your face. You faked scraping something off his cheek and when you were pretty sure he lowered his guard, you surged forward and quickly gave the bridge of his nose a small peck.

Joel’s eyes immediately snapped open and a surprised – and then delighted – smile spread across his face.

“What are you doin’?”

“Nothing at all,” you answered innocently, but this time you couldn’t hide a sly grin threatening to split your face in half. “I told you you have something on your cheek.”

Joel made a sound of fake acknowledgment and took his other hand from under his head to pull you even closer and on top of himself. You giggled when he nudged your nose with his, trailing his fingers up and down the back of your neck.

“On my cheek, you say?”

“Mhm.”

“I don’t think you got it, then. You aimed at my nose,” he mused cheekily, making you laugh again.

“Oh, you’re right! Silly me.” You leaned in and kissed his jaw this time, smiling against his facial hair. “Let me…” another kiss, this time on his forehead, “...try again, then…” another, next to his eye, “...just to be sure.”

It wasn’t often that Joel let you (and himself) be so affectionate when you weren’t alone, but you guessed Ellie was far enough that he didn’t worry about it now. Or maybe he was just in a good mood – it happened a lot more often lately.

After everything that transpired in the hospital, you were worried Ellie wasn’t going to believe his version of events and shut herself off, but whether the teen still doubted your and Joel’s words or not, she didn’t seem eager to distance herself from you two.

Which was a damn big relief for you, and even a greater one for Joel – not that he’d ever admit it.

Anyone who would bother to look could see that the man was a lot happier lately. He found his brother, he had you, and he didn’t lose Ellie like you knew he feared. The three of you still went on trips outside of Jackson – or like Ellie liked to call them, ‘spontaneous adventures’ – and this was one of the places you personally liked the most. A secluded meadow with a hill overgrown with flowers and leading down to a small torrent at the base of it. Noone has ever ventured so far beyond the especially-hard-to-cross portion of the river, but the place was worth the effort as it was so beautiful, it looked like it was pulled out of a fairy tale.

Speaking of beautiful, Joel cupped your cheeks and let his warm gaze rove over your face as if he wanted to commit it to memory. You were just about to ask if you had something on your face as well, when he spoke up quietly.

“Do you have any idea how goddamn gorgeous you are?” he asked, brushing the strands of your hair out of your face.

“Stop it,” you snapped back, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, but Joel tsked, guiding your chin to look at you again.

“You are,” he said, sounding almost surprised at how bashful you got, before his lips stretched into a smirk. “Are you just fishin’ for compliments, darlin’? Denyin’ it so that I can praise you more?”

“I’m not!” You laughed at the sheer thought of that and Joel took that opportunity to plant a kiss above your mouth. “If anything, you’re just trying to rile me up and get me to compliment you.”

“Don’t even try,” he warned you seriously, but you just shrugged with a playful expression.

“Well, I have to remind you sometimes how good-looking you are,” you whispered against his lips, smiling brightly when you felt his breathless chuckle.

“Shut up.”

“Not until–”

He cut you off by sliding his hand to the back of your neck and pulling you up carefully so he could kiss you deeply. You smiled into the kiss, knowing very well what he’s doing, but not minding it in the slightest.

“You’re trying to distract me,” you accused him when the two of you parted, but he shook his head and tutted. His thumb was brushing your cheek slowly and your body burned in all places he was touching you. You reminded yourself about Ellie’s words and tried to calm down.

“Nah. You had somethin’ on your face, too, and I wanted to return the favor.”

He was so silly sometimes, you almost couldn’t believe that those hands were capable of anything else than caressing your skin so lovingly.

“Liar,” you whispered, earning yourself a low chuckle.

“I could say the same about you.”

You couldn’t help the squeal that escaped you when he turned you over in a swift motion so that now you were lying on your back with the man hovering above you. Whatever protests you might’ve had, they were swallowed down by Joel’s lips on yours, and you hummed happily at the feeling of his touch.

The two of you took several minutes to enjoy each other’s company to the fullest, planting lazy kisses on your faces and whispering silly words of affection. At one point Joel sighed contently, peppering the edge of your jaw and neck with soft kisses, and then laid his head on your chest. One of his arms snaked around your waist to hug you tighter and he closed his eyes.

You pressed your lips together not to giggle, and started to slowly run your fingers through his hair. He groaned and you felt his muscles relaxing under your touch.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna fall asleep,” he murmured and you kissed the crown of his head softly.

“Maybe that’s exactly my plan. You don’t get enough rest.”

“Stop,” he said again, though he didn't make any attempt to pull away or stop you himself. “Someone's gotta keep an eye on everything.”

“I’ll make sure we’re safe,” you shushed him, gently scratching the spot behind his ear, to which he made a sound not unlike purring. You suppressed a smile. “Besides, I’ve never seen an infected around here. The chances of something stumbling upon us…”

“...are much higher if we let our guard down,” he finished, his hand going to the gun lying on the grass on his other side to make sure he could reach it quickly. “I don’t want something to happen to you or Ellie.”

“I know, love,” you whispered, kissing his forehead again, trying to make some of those worry wrinkles disappear. “Just close your eyes for a moment. I’ll make sure nothing happens during this time.”

He sighed again and nuzzled his head more into your chest. “You’re a treasure, darlin’.”

“Obviously,” you murmured in response and felt his chest rumble with quiet laughter. “I love you, you know?”

“Love you, too.” He shook his head lightly, but the smile didn’t fade from his face. “Even though you’re a menace.”

“Shut up and relax already. I’ll stand guard.”

He just grumbled again. You took a deep breath of summer air and looked up to the sky.

*****

You didn’t plan on falling asleep.

Even before you opened your eyes, having registered a tip of a shoe nudging your arm and rousing you from your nap, you felt this terrible, gnawing feeling of guilt and panic. Joel would kill you if…

But no, he was still asleep with his head lying heavily on your chest. You sighed with relief and opened your eyes, squinting at Ellie standing above you.

“Finally! How loud do I have to ‘psst!’ for you to wake up? Jesus, I started to think you both are dead.”

You grumbled and rubbed your eyes. You felt dizzy, but that was always the case when you fell asleep in the middle of the day. It was an hour or so before sunset now, and the field you rested on was bathed in a warm, orange glow.

“Not dead,” you yawned drowsily and nodded at the teen. “What’s up?”

Ellie pointed at Joel. “Wake up the old man.”

You furrowed your brows. “What? Why?”

“Because I want to push you both down the hill,” she whispered in a mocking tone and rolled her eyes when you lifted your eyebrows. “I have something to show you, if you really need to know.”

She did have one of her hands hidden behind her back, so it wasn’t completely unlikely. Still, something about it smelled fishy.

“Why didn’t you wake him up yourself?” you asked in a whisper, too, honestly surprised that you both still had to keep your voices down. Usually the slightest sound woke Joel up, but now he didn’t even stir. Ellie groaned and pointed her hand at you both, like it was obvious.

“Because last time he gave me a bunch of shit about it! And he won’t be mad at you if you do this.”

She had a point, if you wanted to be honest with yourself. Normally you would tease her for it, but lately Ellie rarely acted so secretive and excited, so you decided to humor her this time.

“I’ll blame it on you if he gets angry at me.”

“I’ll really push you down the hill if you do.”

You stick your tongue out at her, which Ellie mirrored, before rolling your eyes and shifting your attention to the man still lying motionlessly on top of you.

“Joel…” you mumbled into his skin, brushing your fingers through his hair lightly. A low grumble issued from his chest and you chuckled despite yourself, leaning down to kiss his forehead softly. You pretended not to hear Ellie gagging in the background. “Come on, I know you’re not asleep.”

He sighed heavily and finally opened his eye, but then he shifted his gaze to Ellie’s form, and let his eyelid drop again.

“Get rid of the kid,” he murmured, snuggling back into your chest.

His head started to shake from the laughter reverberating inside your chest and Ellie gasped indignantly, now having no reservations about going around you and kicking Joel’s leg.

“Fuck off and get your lazy ass up!”

Joel sighed martyrly, as if that was the greatest sacrifice somebody could demand from him, but finally got up, freeing you from under his weight but also depriving you of his safe embrace. He looked at Ellie and lifted his eyebrows, waiting.

The girl in question grinned and pulled a bunch of flowers from behind her back.

Before you realized that it actually wasn’t a bouquet, but several flower crowns, Joel was already shaking his head and actually backing away. “No. No way.”

“Oh my gosh, they’re beautiful, Ellie!” you admired her work, not paying attention to the man behind you, and shifted closer to get a better look. “Where did you learn that?”

“One of those books Tommy gave me had a guide how to do it,” Ellie explained with a wide smile. It surprised you a little that she’d be so enthusiastic about a skill like that, but then she turned back to Joel and her eyes glinted with mischief. “C’mon, try it on.”

“No.”

“Can I pick one?” you asked, once again ignoring your partner. Ellie shook her head, now not even trying to hide a proud, mocking grin that widened when she saw how reluctant Joel was.

“No. Yours is the one with those small yellow shits.” You snorted at the name Ellie gave tiny, round flowers, but put it on immediately. The girl held the crown made out of blue and purple flowers on her lap, and stuck out the last one with small pink and white flowers in Joel’s direction. “And that’s all yours.”

“No,” he repeated. You sat next to Ellie and turned to him with a fake pout on your face.

“Joel, we don't turn down gifts. It's not polite.” He glared at you as you leaned on Ellie’s shoulder. “Ellie has worked on it for so long, think how exhausting it must've been!”

“Look at my poor, tired hands,” Ellie sighed dramatically, lifting her hands and wiggling her fingers, and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you.

Joel looked from her to you with a grimace. You mouthed ‘please?’ to him and he groaned, running his hands down his face.

And then – making Ellie snort and you jump excitedly in place – he took the flower crown from the girl and all but dropped it onto his head.

“Joke’s on you, because I know for a fact pink looks great on me.”

“Glad you think so, because…” Ellie trailed off with a shit-eating grin and threw her backpack on the ground, quickly rummaging through it. You grabbed onto Joel’s arm before he had a chance to escape when she pulled out one of those old cameras with a flip screen, making him sigh even louder. “Now move your ass.”

While Ellie was positioning herself between the two of you and turning on the device, you quickly lifted Joel’s hand to your lips behind her back, kissing his fingers with a grateful smile. He seemed to have given in to his fate, not making any attempt to move away or talk his way out of it, just rubbing his brow with a tired expression. The smallest of smiles found its way onto his face when he felt your lips on his skin and he glanced up at you with fondness.

“You two will be the death of me,” he muttered, and Ellie poked him in the ribs with her elbow.

“Shut up and smile. We don’t have much sunlight left.”

You scooted over closer to Ellie to fit in the frame, squinting a little from the reddish-orange sun blinding you from behind a cloud above the horizon. The girl snapped one photo and made a different face, and in that split second your eyes darted to Joel’s in the small screen of the camera.

He still looked very reluctant to be in a photo, but you could see he was trying to hold back a smile.

He did look good in pink. And you meant the flowers as well as the small blush adoring his cheeks.

[hotluncheddie]

Memories of somethin' even smoking weed does not replace.

wc: 2.9k | cw: alcohol | rated: M | part: 1/2 | tags: pre s4 au, steve harrington centric, stobin soulmates, raised catholic steve harrington

part 2 | ao3

˚♱₊✩‧₊⋆｡‧˚♱⋆₊✩‧₊

8:32pm January 3rd: Steve’s car

‘God stop complaining! It’s one party!’ Robin says, her exasperation at Steve finally boiling over.

Steve rolls his eyes, hard, wants to make sure she sees it. He’s stressed and uncomfortable and wants to be petty and petulant and complain because this night is going to end in him embarrassing himself somehow, he just knows it. 

Robin makes just as much of a face back at him but then her eyes are full of concern. ‘You’ve just, been so mopey lately.’ she fiddles with her fingers, bites a nail even though that was her resolution. ‘and I know you say you haven’t been, but you know that I know, that you barely got out of bed on your days off over the holidays and that makes me sad.’ Robin laments, ripping his bitchiness off like a bandaid, seeing whats underneath.  

Steve signs, defeated by her big beautiful brain. She is right, but. ‘Robbie. it was between Christmas and new year, there was nothing going on. What do you expect me to do? it’s literally time made for relaxing.’ Steves own exasperation falling away into something that just sounds tired. He’s so tired. And he hates it when she worries, he’s not, he’s still not used to it. Someone who cares, notices when he spends three days in bed because the thought of getting up when his parents are downstairs makes him want to puke. And, he loves her for it, but, sometimes it makes his skin crawl, makes him feel like he’s not good enough, not hiding well enough. Pitied. 

‘But you don’t relax. You mope. You, like, wallow.’ She pokes his arm a couple times for emphasis, but her voice is softer, still a little sad. ‘And.’ she takes a deep breath. ‘I know you don’t want to talk about it. But I also know this time of year makes you miss Nancy.’ 

‘Oh God, Rob, please.’ Steve whines, desperate now. ‘Don’t start bringing up Nancy.’ He drags a hand down his face, that is the last thing he wants to talk about. Think about. Admit anything to anyone about. 

She’s not, entirely wrong but Steve still hates hearing it. He does miss Nancy, or, well, misses her in theory. He doesn’t really miss her anymore. But, he misses being her boyfriend, a boyfriend. Being needed, and being held, as pathetic as that sounds.

‘I know. Just.’ Robin says, twisting in her seat to look at him looking at the road. ‘I just. I want you to have some fun dingus.’

Steve squeezes the steering wheel. He nods. Glancing at her and giving her enough of a smile that she knows not to feel bad. It’s really not her fault that this time of year makes him want to sink into a hole, makes him think about purgatory and black vines, what he wants for his future if both can exist.

‘It’ll just be some band kids there, a few stragglers, no one’s going to care that you’re there too.’ Robin explains. ‘Plus, if they say anything I’ll be there to defend you.’ And Steve can hear that care again, but its lighter, said through the joke. He lets his shoulders drop and Steve smiles for real. He can’t help it. 

‘Yeah, yeah.’ he says, like she isn’t his everything. Glancing away from the road a second, Steve catches her smile. Happy she’s won but happier that he’s going to at least try and have fun.

‘And, don’t forget you promised to help me with seeing if any of the girls there are even remotely available to me.’ Robin sits back normally in her seat. Talking normally again, worry about her soulmate time over. ‘Plus, who knows, your new favourite customer might just be there too.’ She says into the window, head leaning on her palm. 

‘Robin!’ Steve near shouts, scandalised that she’d bring that up. 

Robin just cackles.

‘Man, you say a guys jeans fit him nice one time and then it’s all you hear about.’ He grumbles, pretending his cheeks aren’t flaming red. He really hopes any discomfort tonight has nothing to do with that. He almost prays on it. But monsters come out of walls so he stops himself. 

Robin wriggles around in her seat, delighted by his suffering. ‘Hey! Hey! No, okay you ragged on me over Tammy! I can make fun of you for making goo goo eyes at Eddie Munson!’

9:00 January 3rd: Kitchen

Steve shivers as the heat from the house mixes with the cold evening air he just walked through. Robin at his side but she’s quickly swept up in a little crowd to say hellos. She looks for him but Steve just waves her on with a scrunch of his eyebrows and a gesture to the beer he wants to find a sport for. 

The kitchen in strewn with bottles and cups and snacks, not a total disaster but people have definitely been helping themselves. Steve is a little laser focused on getting the cans set down so he can start on one, relax his nerves a bit, so he doesn’t even notice Eddie sitting on the counter until he nearly gets kneed in the crotch. 

He takes a hasty step back and gives himself a mental shake, get out of his own head. Eddies smile looks amused, his eyes able to look so sharp. Steve swallows, grateful for Eddies silence. 

‘Hey man. You want one?’ Steve offers Eddie a beer and makes a spot for them on the side. 

Eddie takes it, nodding in thanks, their fingers don’t brush, Steve would know. ‘You looking for anything stronger tonight? like King Steve back in the day?’ Eddie asks, taking a drink, hair framing the long line of his neck.

The old name makes bile raise in his throat. Eddie didn’t mean it like that, probably, wouldn’t have said it if he’d known how much that name feels like a brand on Steves skin. Itchy and scarred. Like ‘Harrington’, like ‘Bullshit’, like something that makes people think they know him, like his body and self isn’t his own.  

Steve looks away. ’Uh, nah, I’ll stick to the classics.’ Popping the lid and taking a long gulp, going for casual, slouching against the counter.

Eddie nods like it’s no big deal. ‘I won’t make this awkward by asking you about college. I know you know I’ve seen you at family video.’ 

‘Your late back on ‘Poltergeist’.’ Steve says without thinking. Winces, why is he acting like such a loser? ‘But uh, yeah. Thanks.’ He finishes lamely. No way any colleges wanted him on his concussion grades and zero extra curricular credits. 

‘Shit, so you do actually do your job.’ Eddie shakes his head, like Steve had deeply wounded him, sarcastic and mocking, pretty little glint in his eye. But it still makes some ugly, desperate little part of Steve rear up and want to take it back, beg for forgiveness. 

Steve drowns that thought and chugs the rest of his beer. 

Someone must motion something to Eddie from one of the other rooms because he nods his head up in understanding. But before he goes he leans in closer to Steve, smirking. ‘Oh, and, don’t thank me yet. I also saw you in that sailor get up at the mall.’ 

Steve chokes on his spit, coughing and spluttering like an idiot.

‘Thanks for the beer.’ Eddie says, patting him once on the shoulder before hopping off the counter and into the throws of the party.

Steve watches him go, skin of his shoulder tingling through his sweater. He feels an itch, like he’s being watched and turns his head to find robin staring at him from where she’s still by the door, talking to friends. Her smile wicked. 

Robins parting words from the car float back through his mind and make his stomach twist. ‘Lucky for you, Eddie makes goo good eyes right back.’ She’d said, quiet and teasing, and Steve hates her. her hates her. 

It’s going to be a long night. 

10:54 January 3rd: Staircase

It’s a little quieter at the front of the house.

It had been going pretty well and then someone mentioned Starcourt. A couple pairs of eyes flashed to him in recognition. Someone murmuring to another,  mentioning Hop. And then Steves eyes were prickling and his wrists were tingling and he had to excuse himself. Squeezing Robins shoulder for her not to follow. Just a minute alone to breath. Sip his drink to get the copper to wash from his lips. Get his teeth back where they’re supposed to be.  

Orange streetlights filter through the window of the front door. It catches the dust, makes it sparkle. 

He thinks about midnight mass with his parents, their one Christmas plan that he’s not allowed to get out of. Thinks about how the light filtered through the stained glass, made patches of the floor look red. Thought about the ceiling of Starcourt, the taste of red metal on his tongue as the world spun. 

Went up for communion and crossed himself. Looked up at the crucifix. Thought about how the gash that opened in Joyce’s living room was red. How somethings grow in darkness, in cracks and out of sinew. A nail bat ripping through skin. 

He looks at the drink Robin made him as a joke, its almost wine coloured, a murky, deep red. It makes Steves insides twist, she didn’t mean it, she didn’t. But blood of the lamb is making the back of his eyelids flash red and brown, flash lightning and ash floating through the air. His nose filled with mould. 

‘Yeesh what is that Harrington?’ Steve looks up, Eddie’s blocking some of the orange light, head haloed and face in shadow. 

Steve looks back into the cup, seeing it for what it is again. Remembering how her face lit up with laughter as she dumped in whatever she could find, knowing it would be awful but knowing Steve would still drink it. She made it for him, how could he not? 

He looks back up at Eddie, Steve can smell his cologne. It smells good. ‘Don’t ask, Robin made it.’ He waves his hand and tries to clear his head of red and black. The spirits mix with the beer and now his hands and feet tingle, he focuses on that, it’s nice.

Eddie eyes it warily. ’You wanna trade?’ and he holds up a beer, a different brand that the ones Steve brought, he has two, for some reason. 

Steve looks into his cup, ‘Its honestly not that bad.’ He swirls the contents around a little, there’s something floating in it. 

‘Seriously?’ Eddie asks. Steve looks up at him and his eyebrows have disappeared behind his bangs 

Steve smiles, his lips tingling. ‘No.’ and his smile grows at Eddie laugh, he has dimples.

He looks at Eddie and decides, then, to take. See what he gets given. He can confess later.

The alcohol made a couple of the awkward conversations he had tonight bearable and the couple less awkward conversations he had enjoyable. Maybe it’ll do the same for him now. Steve takes the beer and places his other drink carefully on the stair behind where he’s sitting, makes a mental note to dump it out when he moves. 

He shifts, sitting in a way he hopes looks casual, like he wasn’t just thinking about divine sacrifice. The staircase it wide and the carpet is soft, a nice place to take a break. A nice place to talk to a boy. A boy who makes his heart beat in his throat. Steve can confess later. 

‘You run Hellfire right?’ He asks, sipping his beer and cataloguing again how the orange light shines on eddies hair, over his shoulder. 

Eddie faces him fully, bobbing his head slightly to the music, Steve doesn’t recognise the song, he doesn’t think its one they play on the radio. ‘Yeah?’ 

‘Yeah. like X-men’ Steve says.  

Eddie blinks at him, but then the corners of his mouth curl and his eyelids droop and Steve feels too hot suddenly. ’Okay, I’m gonna need his majesty to explain how he knows about either of those.’ 

Swallowing, Steve goes for honest. ’Well first off you used to put new posters up every, like, two weeks man, kinda hard to ignore.’ Steve says, lifting up a finger. he paid attention, eddies doesn't need to know yet how much. But Steve paid attention. 

Eddie stays silent, looks at him, eyes roaming over his face, lip still curled. Steve feels his adams apple bob. 

‘Second, I babysit some of the dweebs who are current members.’ Steve lifts a second finger, takes another sip of beer. ‘And three, X-men is like super popular. And, like, super good.’ And Steve takes another drink, just because, just to help him be. 

Eddies lips curl into a full smile, all teeth and a little tongue. He sips his own beer, looking away from Steve then back at him a couple times, like he thinks he’ll vanish, change before his very eyes. He shakes his head. ‘What changed with you man? I never expected any of that to ever come out of your mouth, like, ever.’ And eddies sounds kind of delighted, voice musical and tinkling. 

Steve just shrugs, feels hot, Eddies voice too close to happy, words too close to praise. ‘Grew up a little, I guess.’ He crosses his arms, looks down at his shoes. 

‘Yeah? That why no more parties?’ and Eddies voice is soft, Steve can feel his body heat, his knee by eddies hip. 

‘I’m just not so big on, that much attention any more. That much noise.’ Steve says, looking back into Eddies face. Finds him staring, lips quirked in a little smile, softer, then before. Leaning his chin in his hands on the banister, leaning into Steves space.

‘So, you and Buckley, what’s that about?’ Eddies whispering now, like he knows it’s precious. The orange light kisses his cheek.

Steve clears his throat, whispers back. ’Summer job. We scooped ice cream and she, uh, scooped up my heart.’ he smiles, just from talking about her, thinking about them. 

‘Oh.’ Eddie says, drawing away just slightly, eyes hardening in a way Steve hates. 

He almost reaches out, something drastic, desperate. But he pulls back, fiddles with the tab on his can. ‘No, um. Not that kind of oh. I mean in, like, a friend way. Totally platonic oh.’ 

‘Right’ Eddie comes back, but it’s not quite the same, the moment lost. Steve feels a rosary between his knuckles. 

‘Seriously, platonic soulmates. It’s a thing.’ He tries to lighten, tries to make Eddie read his mind the way robin does. It takes a moment, but then Eddie lets his eyes drink in Steves face again. His smile unfurling, sweet and pretty and different than before. He nods once, taking a drink. Looking away, cheekbones flushed pink. 

Steve can confess later. 

Robin comes barrelling down the hall calling out for Steve. But she skids to a halt when she sees Eddie. Then her eyes find Steve and she looks at him with raised eyebrows and barely contained glee bubbling under its surface. ‘Munson.’ She greets, eyes staying on Steve. ‘You’re late back on ‘Poltergeist.’

Eddie laughs, big and delighted. ‘Hey Buckley.’ He says. ‘Looking for your boy?’ but as he said that he’s gone back to the same position, still leaning on his hands, still looking right at Steve. 

Steve feels his cheeks heat. 

‘Ugh, not my boy. You are definitely not getting out your late fee for that.’ And she shoves him out of the way to get to Steve and grab his hand. ‘They want me to play beer pong, you’re on my team.’ And she’s pulling him up and away. 

Steve cranes his neck back to give Eddie a little wave goodbye but he’s pushing off the banister, he’s following. 

He walks slow, lazy, almost sauntering. Looking right at Steve still, with that little smirk. He knows. He knows. Steve feels the eucharist on his tongue. ‘What?’ Eddie asks, innocent but his smile isn’t. ‘I wanna watch.’ And Steve just squeezes Robins hand tighter, lets her pull him into the kitchen. 

11:45 January 3rd: Kitchen

People cheer as Steve neatly sinks the ping pong ball into the final cup, Robin nearly jumping onto his back she’s so exited. The first couple games with Robin and some of her random band friends really weren't great, he drank a few times, helped Robin get through her shares, they barely won. But by the third game he basically played alone and won pretty easily. The crowd seem entertained, cheering for him and random people kept patting him on the shoulder. it’s weird, a little stale on his skin to be congratulated like that, over something like this again. But he’ll be that guy again for one night, if just to make Robin smile. 

He downs a cup someone offers him in celebration. Accepting a couple high fives from Robins band friends. Tries to not be weird, to not show how the praise makes him itch. 

Steve lifts his wrist up to wipe at his mouth. His eyes drawn to the far side of the room. Eddie is leaning against the wall, black jacket against stark white. He claps slowly once, twice, his eyes shining with something. Like Steve is something funny, something interesting. 

Steve’s hands and feet tingle, his lips a little numb. Feels warm. Doesn't think about churches or blood or monsters. Just lifts his eyebrows, sucks some of the sticky beer from the pad of his thumb, and winks. 

Eddie rolls his eyes and rolls off the wall, disappearing into another room. 

But Steve saw his smile. 

˚♱₊✩‧₊⋆｡‧˚♱⋆₊✩‧₊

part 2 | ao3

written for Lex’s Spicy Six Winter Challenge! run by @thefreakandthehair and using the prompt: 'spiked eggnog'. ty for putting this on always!! sorry im posting on the last day again lol xoxo

title from 'stick season' by noah kahan (edited slightly to fit better)

@pearynice and @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx ty for the kind words and guidance getting me unstuck with this fic <3 its alive now

lmk if you would like a tag for part two :)

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Authority ||

Shane Walsh x female reader

Tags/warnings: dirty, sweaty, horny, Shane sex cos that's what I want.

Shane can't help chuckling at your stormy expression and demeanour as you pound an angered path towards the garage store where he's working.

“What's grinding your gears this time darlin’?” He asks, but you only shoot him a fierce scowl in answer.

“Aw nah, you been fightin’ with Rick again?” he guesses. You always had something to say about him almost every other day.

You clench your teeth before answering. “He won't let me lead a group to go check out that boarded up farm we passed a week or so ago. I know there must be some good stuff in there, maybe even fuel and tools!” You kick at the door frame in annoyance. “He says he doesn't think it's worth it, that it's too dangerous and that the others wouldn't listen to me or respect my authority on a trip out there anyway. Fuck him!”

Shane watches you winding yourself up in a rage, your fists bunching till your knuckles are showing through your skin.

“He thinks I'm green but I've got skills! I can help! Why does he have to be such a knowitall asshole lording it over all the rest of us? It ain't fair.”

He catches your wrist before you start punching the wall. “Hey, hey now. You gonna calm down before you break somethin’, like your goddamn fingers?”

You scrunch up your face in annoyance. “Depends. You gonna take his side and tell me I'm just a little girl who should shut up cos she doesn't know anything?”

He looks you straight in the eyes. “Nah, I know you're capable. You just gotta give Rick some time to trust you with it, that's all. Hell, I know he's a grouchy sonofabitch but the system's worked alright so far, huh?”

You growl in defeat.

He's got a point you guess, but it still rubs you up the wrong way how Rick seems to see you as nothing more than a nagging pain in his ass. “Would you follow orders from me, Shane?” you challenge.

He gives you that signature self-assured cocky smile of his. “You bet. I trust your judgement, sweetheart.”

You scoff, actually semi surprised by his seemingly honest response.

“Yeah, sure you would. Whatever.”

You watch him in silence as he moves crates of supplies, some full up with cans and other heavy items, stacking them up against the wall. His vest is damp with sweat, beads of moisture roll down his neck to his broad, glistening chest and you can't help licking your lips.

“Doesn't help that it's so fucking hot today,” you muse, tugging your own shirt away from your sticky skin. Then you settle on an idea.

“I'm going down to the lake. Come with me.”

Shane pauses, glances up. “I gotta finish up this shit…”

You plant your hands on your hips. “Come with me. That's an order, Shane.” You smirk and he catches on, putting the crate down and straightening up.

“S’that so?” He responds with an interested look and you nod.

“Y’said you'd follow my lead, so follow.” you quip, walking out into the blazing heat of the yard towards the gate.

“Might be walkers down there.” He says, grabbing his pistol and knife from the shelf and tucking them into the back of his pants.

You wave your hand carelessly back in his direction as you keep walking. You've got your own weapon on you. “I'm capable, remember?”

Shane rolls his eyes as he catches you up. He's not sure what he's letting himself in for but it's not a good idea to let you go off alone, especially if he expects you've got something to prove.

The lake was a godsend. A welcome actual oasis in this rabid and lethal world that you'd all found yourselves trying to survive. A perk of living in the camp and bearing Rick's questionable leadership. It was small, a now undammed creek running in to fill an old quarry, but it was fairly safe and utterly perfect for dip on a day like this.

The side you came in on had a grassy bank and a large tree growing near, giving some much needed shade before the ground turned to gravel and slate near the water. You scoped out the rim and the shimmering, inviting water for any signs of walkers and once satisfied it was clear, you turned to Shane, planting your palm firmly on his damp chest.

“You, stay.” You command, gesturing at him to sit down.

“What the hell? How come I don't get to cool off?” He complains as he reluctantly sits on the baking hot grass. You cross your arms at the hem of your shirt and tug it up over your head.

“You said you'd follow my orders, didn't you? Don't you trust me?” You grin, slinging your top over a low branch of the tree and then starting to unbutton your pants.

Shane watches unashamedly as you undress in front of him. You had brought him here after all, wanted him here for whatever reason, and he sure as hell wasn't about to complain about the current view he's got. His gaze roams over the curves of your near-naked body as you strip to your well-worn underwear. He's never seen this much of you before, and he likes it.

You make your way to the water's edge, shrieking and then humming with relief as the sudden cold hits your heated skin.

“So what the hell am I s’posed to do? It's as hot as all hell, even in the shade!” Shane calls out.

“Watch for walkers, idiot!” You yell back with a laugh, and wade in deeper into the lake until you can swim. It was such a treat to have this space relatively close to the camp, but it wasn't the only thing you had in mind…

Shane watches you enjoying yourself as he sweats under the tree. You had your own watchful eye on him, near salivating as he eventually pulled his vest off to reveal the rest of that deliciously toned torso.

When you're done you walk slowly out of the lake, shaking off your hair and stalking towards where Shane was lying on the bank. He pushes himself up on his hands, surprised as you straddle his hips, grunting as cool droplets of water fall from your body onto his.

“What are ya doin’?” He asks as you push him back down to lie flat on his back.

“Cooling you off.” You reply matter of factly as you rock your hips down on his crotch, feeling his cock beginning to harden rapidly through your wet panties.

“Yeah?” His voice is husky, his hands finally landing at your waist as you lean in close, grinding yourself against his cock again, feeling him twitch.

“When I first came here, Rick told me to stay away from you, y'know? Said you were dangerous…”

“Fuck…” Shane curses, his fingers gripping at your damp skin and eyes flicking between the sight of your hardened nipples poking through your bra and your wiggling hips on his. “You doin’ this to get back at him or somethin’?” He asks with a slight strain in his voice.

“No...”

Your own fingers start to explore and trail over his chest, scratching briefly at his nipples and on down those washboard abs to hook under the waistband of his pants. You can't help yourself, leaning down, your tongue sliding out between your lips to lick up the layer of sweat from between his pecs. You close your eyes as the satisfying taste of his salty musk hits your taste buds and both you and Shane moan. You lick and kiss your way up to the side of his neck and nip at his earlobe, purring out your desire.

“I just wanted you to fuck me.”

His eyes gleam a dark amber in the sun as he looks up at you. “Yeah? Is that an order too?”

“Do you want it to be?”

You teased the question but he wastes no time, scrabbling quickly to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, pulling his thick cock out of his underwear as you shimmy out of your panties. You'd need to be fast, this was all the foreplay you needed. You couldn't risk any of the others from the camp wandering down here and finding you both.

He was just as big as you had imagined. You weren't at all surprised with the way he would nearly always stride dick first through the camp. When you could, you'd sometimes pass any quiet moments watching him work, whether it was swinging an axe to cut firewood, or patrolling up on the wall. Even if he could be smarmy and bullish he was prime eye candy for sure, and you wanted a taste.

“God… damn.” Shane hisses as you sink down on him, your bodies now as one, feeling your tight, wet heat gripping around his throbbing length. Air leaves your lungs in a gasp as you start to move up and down, and Shane moves his hips upwards in quick, powerful thrusts to meet yours. “Shit… god-fucking-damn!”

“Fuck, Walsh!” You moan as he's stimulating the deepest parts of you, his hands firm on your hips, fingers pressing in harder..

“S'at good?” He grits out, captivated by the feel and look of you moving above him with abandon.

“So good-” you whine. He shifts forward, ducking his head to mouth at the softness of your breasts spilling over your bralet.

“Oh you like that, huh?” he snarls, “yeah, jus’ like that?” He leans back again so he can pound into you even harder, gritting his teeth, beads of sweat rolling down his face and neck to pool at his collarbones with the effort. He snatches the cups of your bra down, letting your tits bounce around, squeezing them hard before he drops one hand down to where your bodies meet, his thumb desperately rubbing sloppy circles over your slick, swollen pearl.

The dry grass presses into your knees as you fuck, your pussy starting to flutter as the tightness at the core of you builds so quickly. You haven't had any form of intimacy for so long that everything you're feeling now is intense, sharp, and needed.

“Don't you dare stop!” You threaten, riding his cock even faster as you near your edge.

Shane is panting, hips bucking wildly.

“Shit-shit-shit baby I'm gonna cum, aw fuck I'm gonna-”

You lift up off of him and rapidly switch to frantically rubbing your pussy and clit along the length of his cock, seconds later his mouth is forming a silent ‘o’ and his pulsing dick is shooting stripes of creamy white over his stomach and chest between you as you topple over with him. Shane hooks his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you down and smashing your hot mouths together as you both shudder through your orgasms with a deep shared moan.

You push off of him, laying on your back to his side, both of you panting ragged breaths with the heat and exertion.

“Fuck… oh christ.”

Your satisfied hum turns to laughter when you hear Shane's curses yet again.

“So, do you like a woman that knows what she wants an’ orders you around, Walsh?”

He grumbles, gingerly sitting up and wincing at the sweaty, messy state he's in. “Mm, I guess only when it's me that she wants.”

He gets up and strips off his boots and pants, and you watch as he takes his gorgeous ass into the lake to wash, dunking his entire body and scrubbing his hands over his face and closely shaved head. You soon follow and when you're done you put your now-dry clothes back on in a silence only disturbed by birdsong and the sound of the bubbling creek.

“We should get back.” You say redundantly, breaking the sudden tension that had formed.

“Yeah.” Shane agrees, not meeting your eyes.

You awkwardly part ways back at the gate, and when you're on shift up on the wall later that night you can't help wondering if you miscalculated, made a mistake.

“Hey.”

You almost jump out of your skin as Shane sneaks up behind you.

You calm your racing heart as you move the barrel of the gun away from him. “Jesus christ, don't do that, I could have killed you!”

He just smirks, holding his hands up in surrender. “Well now I wasn't lookin' for that.” He drawls, and you soften.

“So what were you looking for?”

"You had any more run-ins with Rick today?"

"Uh... no? Why?" You reply, slightly confused.

He shrugs, eyes flitting between the gun you're holding and you. “Just been wonderin’, if maybe you wanna order me around some more?”

[captainjamster]

Observation Duty

Pairing(s): Price x fem!Reader Warnings: Manipulation, stalking, monitoring and surveillance, obsessive behaviour, non-consensual voyeurism, non-consensual mutual masturbation, non-consensual recording and photos Wordcount: 3.2k Summary: John isn't quite the captain everyone thinks he is, but he knows just how to act like it. No one would ever believe the things he does behind closed doors. AO3 Link: Right here! <3

A/N: PLEASE LOOK AT THE WARNINGS BEFORE YOU READ MORE! This is the first part of what should be two chapters, because I can't stop starting things without finishing them <3

If I miss any tags you think should be there, please let me know!

Full fic under the cut <3

John’s line of work has taught him that people are so, so easy to play with. Know the right person, the right place. Know what to say, who to say it to.

Keeping you safe, under his ever-observant eye, is easy in the barracks and on the field. You don’t make a single move he doesn’t see or hasn’t approved. But when you go home, away from him and his control, he just can’t help but worry. Are you safe, alone in that big, empty house? What do you get up to? Are you eating and drinking? Taking care of yourself? Who do you see? Do you invite anyone around? The idea of another man in your home makes him shudder, and in your bedroom isn’t something he even entertains. John needs to do something about it.

He’s been thinking for a while. Some way to watch you, every waking moment. A permanent eye on the wall. He knows your address; it’s right there in your files. There isn’t a single legal document or piece of information about you that he can’t obtain if he wants to. Every place you’ve lived, your parents, extended family, even your friendship circles. Your school results, community hobbies, bank purchases, every doctors trip – especially your birth control and fertility, he paid very close attention to those details. He knows how to play you; he listens to your grumbling, observes what makes you happy. Notices the moments where you’re less resistant, records what makes you flare up in defensiveness or fury. John is a well-educated man, one who could’ve been a scholar in another life, and he’s decided his favourite topic to study is you.

--- ︻デ═一 ---

“Remember to fill out your forms, lads. New policies coverin’ house insurance and maintenance, let me know if y’need any fixin’ at home.” He hands out the papers, carefully keeping yours separate without being too obvious. Soap’s head bobs up, glancing at you and taking the bait John has set out perfectly. “Oi bonnie, weren’t ye chattin’ ‘bout fixin’ a light o’ somethin’?”

Your face lights up at the mention, a bashful smile gracing your lips, and John would be mad that it’s not in his direction if he wasn’t so satisfied with himself. “I can’t believe you remembered that, yeah! I was going to wait until I got home.”

Gaz hums, hunched over his own form as he signs it. “Maybe Ghost can buy a piece of furniture this year.” His sentence is rewarded with a pen smacking into the side of his head, bouncing off him and onto the table as Ghost snorts in amusement, answering gruffly. “Fuck off, Garrick.”

It never goes wrong, but he still feels smug at how effortless it is to orchestrate an entire conversation before it starts. Getting your signature is as easy as an extra sheet, you can’t even tell the difference. No one reads terms and conditions, and he’s made extra sure you don’t - a couple of edited test forms a few months ago - to rule out the chance.

With the paperwork completed, he contacts the company and gives them a boring, digestible cover story. “Yeah, her husband. Installing cameras, yeah. Keepin’ it safe while we’re both on deployment. Just a light out the back to fix, cameras to install in and outside.”

They’re so quick to listen to the man playing the big, strong head of the house, not a single question about why everything but the payment would be in his ‘wife’s’ name instead. Lying, John finds, is easiest when others do the work for you; give vague details that seem right, and let them come to their own little conclusions. Let them assume you’re some kind of military wife who doddles along behind him, just an obedient little civilian pet while he organises the household. If only they knew what you were and what you did, he thinks. Though still, an obedient little pet is how he would like you. It just takes time to get there.

They come over and install the cameras in less than a week. John’s antsy the day he gets the call that they finished, waiting for it to be over so he can experiment with his new toy. He ignores the questioning looks from his inferiors as he dismisses his last evening meeting early, pushing out the door into the stream of soldiers heading for dinner, only departing from the pack when he reaches his office door.

John prepared a room for this in advance – the moment he set the plan in motion. A room at home, his central control that he could run unmanned and long-distance, circumnavigating his occupancy at the base. It’s almost undetectable; no pesky windows to peek in from the outside, entry hidden behind a locked door in his office. The numerous screens flicker to life, illuminating the room in a blue glow. The cameras are perfect; detailed quality, blur-less zoom. Every angle. It quickly becomes his favourite room to be in, despite only being in it once when he headed home to initially set everything up.

At the base, all he needs is an electronic device and an app to access the command. His favourite to use is his phone, flicking through each screen to take in the rooms, committing each detail and decoration to heart. Though to keep up all professional appearances, he often settles for his laptop, flicking between reports and gazing at the screens with every spare second. John takes the weeks leading up to break to memorise your house, seeing each room flickering on the back of his eyelids as lies in bed, tracing each path you’d take morning and night until he falls asleep.

He protects it. Types your address into his maps app, virtually scouting the neighbourhood to make sense of all your outside cameras, memorising every surrounding street. Plans escape routes, recording positions of defence and any weak spots he could reinforce, windows or vents that are just too easy to wrench open by perverse men like him. Within a month, he knows your house plan like his own; enough to contemplate how he would reorganise it if you wanted him to move in, how many little ones it could hold, tiny feet pattering up and down its hallways.

--- ︻デ═一 ---

When the last week before leave finally comes around, he’s beyond ecstatic. John is a carefully controlled slate around anyone else, but his boys know each twitch of his eyebrow and quirk of his lip. They clue you in to his unusually excited behaviour with teasing jokes and remarks that have him rolling his eyes, gruffly ordering them back to work. Soap is betting on a secret missus, making a point to sneak up behind Price when Soap catches him texting away on his phone.

When he finally arrives home, he’s delighted to see your house is still empty. It gives him time to unpack, running loads of laundry and showering. He keeps an eye on his phone, monitoring the screens until he finishes, bringing a cup of coffee and dinner to his little surveillance room.

The screens fill the wall, a 3x3 set-up that basks the room in a pale glow, yet still isn’t enough to display every camera hidden around your house. Everything is silent, the occasional rumble of a car getting his hopes up, but nothing happens until a few sips of his coffee and an article later. Movement from one of the screen catches his attention, his head straightening to watch your front door swing open.

A bag is the first thing that comes through the door, flung down the hallway with a dull thud. Your figure follows it in, heaving another heavy bag behind you. John frowns at the sight, mindlessly tutting as he crosses his arms. He could be there to do that for you. None of this silly straining yourself.

Leaning back and settling in, he watches how you unravel from your long absence. It pleases him that you’re practical in your return, taking the time to wash your laundry, circulate and dispel all the stagnant air (although Price dislikes seeing your windows open, so unattended), and give the place a general tidy up. There’s a ping from your phone a few times that puts John on edge. Who’s texting you already, when you’ve been back for less than a day? His prominent guess is family and close friends, excited to have their beloved child home and safe, but he can’t help from worrying that he’s wrong. Maybe you’re so pent up that you just can’t help it, using those silly dating apps you talk about with Gaz, eager for someone to unravel all that need within you. Maybe it’s an old friends-with-benefits situation you already have that’s eager to climb back in your bed. Maybe – maybe he should bug your devices.

His deliberations are disrupted as you reward your productivity with what Price thinks to be a party in your bathroom. The small haven of what should be privacy isn’t free from his omniscient gaze, either. He doesn’t care if it’s disgusting; there are no boundaries to him. There isn’t a single side of you he doesn’t want to see, doesn’t want to know.

The music comes through his speakers, some songs he recognises from the long travels spent in transport together. Melodies echo through your room as steam slowly gathers, whisps streaming in and out of his lens view as water slowly fills the bath. You trail from the room, meandering down the hall and grabbing some snacks from the kitchen, filling a glass with a carbonated drink you grab from the fridge. Snug in the corner above the entryway, paired neatly with the fire alarm, his camera catches the way you bend yourself over the counter, distracted by scrolling through some app.

He feels himself throb at the sight, fumbling to take a screenshot of the image. You tease him, staying bent like that as you wait for the bath, your ass swaying occasionally when a trendy song hums from your phone. Disappointment washes through him when you stand up, though he basks in the sight of your stomach peaking from under your shirt as you stretch, but his excitement is quickly renewed when you gather your snacks and head back to the bathroom.

The room has filled with a thick fog that blooms out into the hallway as you open the door. It clouds his vision, leaving him cursing for not considering the possibility. Your darkened figure is hardly visible as you move throughout the room, but from the soft, metallic clicks and flickering of light, he assumes you’re lighting something. Two lights blossom in front of you, remaining behind you as you crouch at the bath and start flicking the lighter again. The cloud has dispersed enough to let John see the fuzzy details of your face, watching as you bring a third candle to your face, inhaling with a hum of delight before you light the flame and return it to the bath’s edge. You strew the candles about the room, leaving a large one to glow on your vanity and putting the other one on your closed toilet lid.

You fiddle with the taps – running cold water, he guesses – and sit on the floor, sorting your snacks onto a long tray as the last of the mist spills from the room. He’s been lucky this time; had you not been treating yourself, taking the time to create a small sanctuary, the fog would’ve concealed any chance of John seeing you at such a vulnerable time. A flaw within his system that requires refinement. Perhaps a flaw he can turn into an excuse to visit you.

His thoughts fall flat when you stand up, slotting the tray into its position over the bath and silencing the taps with a few sharp turns. Finally. The point he’s been anticipating.

The captain waits with bated breath, eager to salivate over his uninvited striptease. It’s far from the first time he’s seen you undress, though it’s the first time you’ve been so beautifully unaware. Close proximity (and the resulting lack of privacy) is just another test of comradery – he’s showered next to you in just underwear and ripped your shirt or pants off to treat a stab wound more times than he can count.

But this time you undress, you don’t stop at your underwear.

There’s no to palaver or parade to your performance – there’s no real performance, just a one-sided show, and that alone has John’s cock aching. Capturing you without filter, pretences or social expectations, no song and dance of captain and soldier. You’re clumsy pulling off your underwear, catching the elastic on your toes and throwing it haphazardly onto the floor with the rest of your clothes through curses and grumbles. Inspecting yourself in the mirror, catching up on each new scar and burn, bending over and peering around to see the state of your backside and between your thighs. This is a side of you he can never glimpse on base, despite all his attempts.

The buzz of your phone distracts you, straightening up with a right, okay! and grabbing the small device, unlocking it to peer at the content as you gingerly slide a foot into the hot, soapy water. Bit by bit, you emerge yourself within the sudsy liquid, minding the tray as you let out an audible groan. John watches you melt into the bubbles, arms resting along the tub as your head falls back.

For a while, the two of you remain like that; John sat comfortably in his chair, ignoring the heat flickering in his lower stomach as he works through some papers, keeping an eye on your relaxed form as you decompress within the hot, sudsy water, picking at the tray of food and drink. His attention slips as the minutes go by, becoming more focused on his work – pushing the aching need between his legs further to the side - as he checks the screen every ten minutes.

The swishing of water becomes a tranquil ambience as you scrub at yourself, low voices from your phone that John doesn’t currently care to make out keeping you entertained through the process. You luxuriate in the tub for much longer than the barrack would ever allow, taking your time to scrub the build-up of product and dead skin that you give little concern during deployment.

A paper absorbs his attention, keeping his eyes occupied as he grumbles through writing. His concentration is only torn away as he finishes scribbling his signature, a sharp, unexpected moan filling his ears that has him looking up so fast his neck cricks. Scanning the screen, he quickly determines that it’s not coming from you – rather, your phone, and is now accompanied by a deep, masculine groan.

Your expression is clear on his screen, a flush to your cheeks as you gaze at your device, hand running along your chest teasingly to tug at a nipple. Whether it’s from the pornographic material playing on your phone or the heat of the water, John can’t tell.

The tent of his pants is already insufferably tight, and he swears there’ll be a zipper print against the red of his aching cock when he pulls it out. He wants to relish this, commit each moment of this first time to memory without the taint of his lust, but he can’t help the growing need between his legs. Ignoring it to finish paperwork, merely bask in the company of your unwinding routine, has been a challenge even for his steeled resolve.

As he watches your hand trail down the soft pudge of your torso, dipping into the bubbly water to follow the rise and dip of your stomach, he breaks. His cock springs out of his briefs like it’s gasping for air, bouncing angrily against his stomach with each haphazard tug at the elastic around his hips. He can only imagine how your fingers work between your legs at that sensitive skin, how you orchestrate your undoing.

The tray holds your phone conveniently, allowing both hands to roam your body, and John thanks his luck for at least the opportunity to watch you pinch and roll your nipples between your fingers. You tug at the sensitive buds with whimpered moans, water sloshing as your hips buck against your hand, teasing John with actions that he can’t see.

He’s damp to the touch as he grips his shaft, fingers immediately sticky with precum that’s been smeared throughout his briefs. Pearlescent beads drool from his tip in a lazy stream, lubricating his motions as he tugs lightly at his foreskin, already teetering the edge of climax. The slightest stimulation has his stomach tightening, listening to your gasps and whines grow in urgency.

You chase your orgasm eagerly, working with a pent up need that comes from the absence of full privacy within the miliary. Convulsions rack through you in synchronisation, moans combining in a harmony he wishes wasn’t separated by the screen. He wants to time it perfectly; fuck up into his fist and release as you reach your own peak, as if a flawless synchronisation is key to unlocking some phantom sensation of being buried between your thighs, clenched down around him.

It doesn’t take much more teasing before you catch up, your tiles wet as water breaches the rim with each careless thrust. The video in front of you has ended, long forgotten as your head lulls back, lost in the sensations that envelope your consciousness that prove to be too much. They push you over the edge with a ragged cry, your knees peaking from the water as your thighs clench around your hand, and John loses himself too.

All it takes it a few weak thrusts into his hand before his balls are tightening, seed spilling in enthusiastic spurts, striping his shirt and pants before it dies down to a dribble that John coaxes out with a groan. He sits there, watching your breathing even out as you wipe away at your mess, spent and catching his breath as the cum dries on his clothes. You’re quick in cleaning up the mess, pulling yourself up on unsteady limbs as you pull the plug, bending down to rinse your hands one last time for John to relish.

He's almost heartbroken when you step out the tub, droplets cascading down to drip from your form, only to reach for a towel to wrap around yourself. The fabric is a slim cover, leaving glimpses of your behind and chest as you dry yourself, humming a tune with a note of content John wishes he brought instead. John tucks himself back into the soiled briefs, shucking off his shirt and pants to wash momentarily, but not before he glimpses you one last time getting changed.

Before you can reach for the underwear placed in advance on the sink and discard your towel, the camera barely picks up the vibration of your phone, catching both his and your attention. Leaning over to the tray, your process is halted by a text on your screen that makes you smile, and whether it’s the drunken, post-orgasmic haze that clouds his mind, or the way it makes him more vulnerable to the surge of jealousy that flares up at your giggle, John finds himself fumbling through the lockscreen and pulling up your contact before he can stop himself.

If you’re not going to think about him during your masturbation, he’s sure as hell going to make sure you think of him after.

Dividers by cafekitsune

[lunarfleur]

My I Love You ~ Earth 42! Miles Morales

Tagging: @juneberrie @sluggmuffin @gloomyluvr @hiyaitssans

Warnings: None except for slight cursing!

A/N:I got this wonderful idea from @/gloomyluvr. I just love this sm

This is x gender neutral reader!

Miles was so warm.

That’s the only thing you could think about. He generated heat like the sun, his skin a firey blanket you knew he would only let you enjoy. It was soothing you, but you didn’t even know you needed soothing.

Miles was a different kind of gentle with you, a sweet kind of soft you hadn’t even known possible. You’d seen him be kind to his mom-who he loved so dearly-but even with her you would find his typical teenage pride held off his affection. He didn’t seem as ashamed with you.

You sat in his room quietly, his arm keeping you tucked closely against his body. Even through his clothes, his warmth spread over your skin like a disease. His cheek sat gently on the top of your head, his free hand sitting behind his own. His door was cracked open, leaving a single sliver of light sitting against his otherwise dark room, at the request of his mother.

Footloose played in front of you, his laptop sitting on his thighs, covered in his comfiest black sweatpants. His fingers played with the hem of your t-shirt sleeve. The fabric pushed and pulled against your skin.

Looking at him, you hummed. He was pretty. Very pretty. The light that came from the hallway made his rich skin shine. The specks of green in his eyes glowed. His nose sat so nicely against his face. His jaw, even when slacked or relaxed, was tight and firm.

Noticing your eyes, Miles glanced at you. A small smirk grew on his lips.

“Somethin’ wrong?” He asked. You shook your head. His fingers danced across the skin of your arm softly.

But even when you forced your attention back to the movie in front of you, Miles’s eyes didn’t leave you. It was a solid 2 minutes before he realized he was even doing it.

He tapped you gently on the shoulder, sitting up straight. You expected him to pause the movie, to get up to use the restroom. But he instead slid his hands up from your neck to the sides of your face.

“Tell me to stop?” He whispered. But it wasn’t a demand, nor was it a threat. It was suggestion, an invitation.

You shook your head, and Miles leaned in slowly. His lips only ghosted yours until you moved into his touch. You felt him tense, his shoulders straightening, then his whole body relaxed altogether.

Once you pulled away, eyes opening, he sat in front of you. His eyes remained closed. His lips pressed tightly into a firm line. They opened slowly.

“Everything okay?” You asked. He nodded.

“Yeah, yeah I just,” Miles hesitated. “I just really…love you.”

Fuck. That was new.

You had said it a few times before, as a goodbye when hanging up the phone or parting for the night. He’d leave you with a kiss on the corner of your mouth, but always resorted to avoiding the phrase altogether. It was out of fear on his part.

A part of Miles told him that those three words were a jinx, that if you said them it automatically meant things weren’t going to last; that something would go wrong. Every relationship his uncle ever had ended quickly and his father had died. His mother was left heartbroken. That was proof enough, right?

‘Our family doesn’t run from things, mijo,’ his mother had always said.

So he sat before you, watching the way your eyebrows raised. He could have sworn your eyes were glowing.

You leaned forward, fingers intertwining with his. You leaned back against the pillows, pulling him back with you.

“I love you, too.”

He released the breath he didn’t even know he was holding and leaned back. His arm snaked back around your shoulder, this time your hand grabbed onto his. His weight pressed against you, heavier this time. His eyes stared at the side of your face.

Looking over at him, you were quick to give him a reassuring smile. You knew it was hard for him, but God did it make you feel good.

He smiled back at you, a sight you knew he’d only let you enjoy, before firmly pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

[perfectfangirl]

speculated the other day with @ilovetea50 about what all cooper heard in the observatory between hank, maximus, and lucy. cooper enters in the back half of the episode, so he's not present for a lot of dialogue and moments presumably but the moment right before he shoots hank, the conversation hank and lucy was having was on the tail end of where she pulled the gun out on hank after he knocks maximus out cold. "you see what this place does to people? i'm your father, lucy. you came all this way for me. you're not gonna hurt me." this is the moment where cooper shoots hank in the face [not killing him but giving him a gnarly scar]. personally, i think this is what all cooper heard. at the very least, i am of the mind he heard "you're not gonna hurt me" because his ass sure pulled the trigger on hank like he was waiting centuries for that one. they showed cooper not approaching in the doorway but just standing there already, as if waiting. i kinda think cooper heard part of this conversation because after he shoots that man, he starts clowning hank like no tomorrow "oh, you want another autograph, young henry?" "feo, fuerte, y formal." "hell this kid use to pick up my wife's dry cleaning." taunting this man from the shadows and then it's the form of a ghoul. hank's mouth was agape and he literally didn't have anything to say to cooper. in some ways, i think he fled because this was just scary as shit to him in all ways conceivable. i'm sure he thought this man was long dead or somethin' but anyways! if lucy ever needed a lucy defender, cooper is right there. [she got two of them, thanks, maximus!] he wasted no time reminding hank of who he was and is, much like moldaver did. a tag team, if you will. cooper defused that situation in the most curious way because why did lucy tell cooper he let hank get away when she was the one pointing the gun first?! lucy's subconscious was like "get his ass" when cooper came i, apparently, i guess she was psyched he was getting knocked down a peg and wanted him wounded forreal 😭 but yeah. i wonder if cooper heard more, heard anything at all, or just saw lucy pointing a gun and realized who at

[spiceofvy]

Hello 🤗 can I pls request BTS headcanons where they have a crush on a non celebrity female reader who is their friend? Thank you ❤️😊

BTS - Having a crush on a friend

a/n: thank you so much for requesting! I had so much fun writing somethin sweet and fluffy like this! I hope you enjoy it too!

cws: written with a fem!reader in mind but no gendered terms used, sfw, fluffy, nothing else to tag, this is really just wholesome and cute

Seokjin: This crush will be no secret. He hits on you constantly. All the bad flirting, but he is pretty so he gets away with it. This also includes flowers, fancy food and random trips to the beach. You choose the music of course. Everyone always assumes that you are already a couple, when in reality he is still trying to get you to go out with him. And if you can't tell from all his flirting he will just give it to you directly. "Can't you tell that I've been trying to get you to go out with me?"

Yoongi: He is very much in control of his feelings, but his actions speak so loudly. He's always by your side. Whenever you come over he has your favorite food prepared for you. He gets really flustered whenever someone calls him out on it, blushing and telling them off. But he probably won't confess to you himself, someone else drops it by accident and he gives up with damage control "Yeah he's right y/n… I am in love with you"

Hoseok: This man hypes you up. You go shopping together? So many compliments. You join him in the studio? He treats you like the best dancer in the world. He also takes you with him on every vacation he gets offered. No matter if it's fashion shows or trips for music recordings, you are everywhere with him. Confessing to you will not be an active choice on his side but the end of a long ramble of his. "You know, that's why I think I love you so much. Wait…"

Namjoon: Oh he knows everything about you. But not in a creepy way. He read all your favorite books, so he can discuss them with you later. Knows your favorite artists, and has a perfect playlist for you, no matter your mood. Sends you so much art he likes, paintings, poetry, all of it. He just loves to share his life with you. There will be no confession, more you calling him out why he sent you like 6 love poems in one night "Ah… I guess it was kinda obvious…"

Jimin: You stay his cute little secret. No one gets to look at you. You are his best friend and only his. No matter how often the others ask to meet you. He will keep you for himself. So his confession is also very private. Just the two of you in his apartment, he got you takeout and your favorite playlist is playing in the background. When he takes your hand and quietly whispers to you. "I just want to tell you, that I have been in love with you for so long."

Taehyung: No but why do I think that he talks with Yeontan about you? Because he definetly does. Whenever he comes home from your place he immediately falls into a quick ramble about you, gushing about you smiling widely. So much that Yeontan probably reacts to your name and of course you are over a lot so he also gets really excited to see you. Taehyung will confess to you unintentionally "You know, I think Yeontan is also in love with you"

Jungkook: This man can not hide his crushes to save his life. It will be so obvious. Whenever he sees you he has the brightest smile, being so excited to spent time with you. He introduces you to all his friends, and if anyone ever says something wrong about you or looks at you weirdly he gets really defensive. He confesses to you with a big gesture. "What? No this is not too much! This is just enough to show how much I love you!"

[enchantedflameandflower]

Gavin Magary x reader!

co-written with the bestie CheshireCatSmile

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

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

Notes: I'm actually terrified to post this so if you can drop a like or have a kind word, it would mean the entire world! Thank you to @jdms-kus-babygirl for encouraging me to post! @shirley-girly @billybutcherxyou @burntsaltsblog

notes: we have more than 22k words of this already written but it's an editing mess so I will be posting as I can get each part edited, let me know if you want tagged! Always lusting for Karl...

Karl Urban Masterlist

part 1

The early morning sun is just beginning to shine into the little  dusty windows of the office of Magary Lumber Mill, when you hear Gavin’s big boots thudding up the wooden stairs outside. When he opens the door to the little office, he heads straight to your desk without thinking. 

"Good morning,” he smiles at you. His hazel eyes seem to linger for a moment, and it makes your heart skip a beat. “I um,” his gaze sweeps over you again, warming you from the inside, “I like that top...it brings out your eyes…”

You blink up at him for a moment, taken aback by his compliment, but he changes the subject before you can think of how to answer. “How're things looking this morning? My brother in yet?"

Gavin picks up a sheaf of papers and mail you had set aside for him, sorting through them casually. He has on his usual button-up shirt, but it’s already warm and he has the sleeves rolled up, showing off his muscled forearms, tanned from his work outside. A couple of the top buttons are undone, and you can see a glimpse of his broad chest underneath.

“Um yes,” you answer, trying not to sound flustered. “He called this morning and said something’s come up. He wants you to get ahold of him as soon as you got in.” 

Gavin replies with a non-committal hum as he continues to sort through the forms and contracts he has and you watch him for a moment, gathering your courage. “Do you really like this shirt or are you just trying to get me to finish your paperwork for you again?” you tease playfully.

Gavin looks up at you grinning again. "No, I really do like it darlin'. When do I ever try to get you to do my extra paperwork?” He winks at you and his grin widens, showing his dimple.

His smile and his compliment make your heart skip a beat but you’re at work so you clear your throat putting it out of you mind, even though you can’t deny how good he looks when he does smile. He hasn’t smiled very much since you started working here. “Well I would list all the times you have but you should probably go call Jack.”

"Okay, I'm on it. Are the kids okay? Or did he say?" Gavin shuffles through a few more papers and looks up at you with concern in his eyes. He pulls his phone out of his pocket.

He always shows how much he cares for his niece and adopted nephew, you can’t help but wonder why he’s still so alone himself but you push the thought away. “He didn’t say, but he didn’t sound too concerned, so I’m sure the kids are okay. Something about Grace needing to stay home until she has the baby, I think.”

"Oh yeah...he mentioned she might be lookin’ at bedrest. Somethin’ about one of the labs and another ultrasound I think." He sits on the edge of his desk and connects with his brother and you try not to eavesdrop but it sounds like they have to delay a project if they don't look at that old logging road in the forest out toward the north.

You bite your lip as you give up on being discreet and listen to his side of the conversation. If that trip gets pushed back, it’s going to push everything else back as well and the schedule will be a mess. There’ll be no way to keep all the upcoming jobs for summer. He thumbs off the phone with a heavy sigh. 

“Jack can’t go out to Morrow County with you?” you ask, turning in your chair.

He looks up, his dark hazel eyes studying you as though he’s debating something. "No. I...I was wondering...nah, it's too much to ask,"  he says but you can see the wheels turning in his head.

You sit up a little straighter, realizing what he’s about to say. You won’t miss this chance. “I can go with you.” He looks surprised, but it’s the perfect solution. It’s too much for him to go alone and you’d love to get away, out into nature again. 

“Are you sure?” He lifts a brow. “It’ll be almost a week. You don’t have anyone…?” 

You grin at him. “No, it’s just me. I’m all alone. No pregnant wife at home.”

He chuckles a little, but chews his lip before he smiles at you again. "Well if you're sure it wouldn't be too much of an imposition I would really appreciate your help. We just can't afford to put this off. Do you have a backpack you can throw a few things into at home? I already have my gear with me but I can run you home to pack?"

“Yes, absolutely. I used to love going hiking out in the middle of nowhere but I haven’t had time since I’ve been on my own. Just work, you know.” You clear you throat again, a little embarrassed about having shared that with him. Your jobs before had been awful but this one was amazing and paid well and you didn’t want him to think otherwise. “Are we camping, or…?”

"Yeah, I hope you don't mind. Then, quite a ways in there's an old loggers' cabin I want to check out. See what kind of repairs it might need so it can hold a few of the men on their shifts without having to go back and forth every day." He walks over to your desk and looks down at you a moment. "Y'know I probably shouldn't say this but...I’m glad your free without any ties at home…but I can't believe some guy hasn't snapped you up ages ago. Their loss." He clears his throat. "Anyway, um...we should probably head out."

Your stomach flutters wildly at his implication…there can’t be any way…does he like you? 

“Yeah. Yes,” I swallow. “I love camping. It’s been too long. And I’d love to see that cabin.” 

Suddenly you’re more than a little excited. You were down about the upcoming week, expecting it to be dull and awful, all alone in the office, but now… He is so handsome…in his well-fitting jeans (he literally has the best ass you’d ever laid eyes on) and his hard hat, when he gets all serious and hard working. You wonder if this might be your chance to really get to know him better. Yes, he could be a little arrogant at times, and impatient, but you couldn’t help but see the times he thought of his brother or family, or his men first, above all. You know there was some incident and there are people in town that hate him. He pretends not to care but you know it hurts him sometimes. 

“Let’s go,” you agree. He opens the door for you and locks it behind you.

part 2

[the-kr8tor]

Crossed Stitch

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 3.4k

Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), brief mention of fainting, cw injury, drinking, description of illness, reckless driving, cursing.

My Navigation

Thread the Needle Masterlist

CHAPTER 7 >>> CHAPTER 8

Hobie lied to you.

He absolutely does not feel well. Shutting off his engine, he weakly waves to Ned, smoking outside the pub. The place is packed, loud voices and music can be heard.

Ned scrunches his nose at Hobie, "bruv, you don't look too good" He offers Hobie a cigarette, he declines it, thinking it might make him feel worse.

"Yeah, I know" Hobie wipes his sweat off his brow, he feels a fever coming. Maybe he should've listened to you.

"What's wrong with you? Flu?" Ned flings his cigarette onto the street, the light flickering out.

"Spider bite"

"What the fuck" Ned laughs, patting his shoulder. "Fucking hilarious, bruv. Go get it checked"

"I'm fine, I'll just go show my face and leave" he huffs, almost breathless.

"You sure? I'll get you some water then, c'mon" Ned leads Hobie by his sagging shoulder.

Entering the pub, everything seems to be brighter and louder than before. Hobie hears glasses clinking everywhere, loud laughter ringing in his ears. He scrunches his nose, Yuri and James spots them from their booth.

"Oof you look a little green there, Hobie" Yuri schooces to give Hobie some room to sit on.

The leather squeaks when he sits down, groaning at the bright lights. Hobie rubs his eyes using the heel of his palms.

"Did you pregame or somethin'?" James asks, nursing a pint.

"He's sick, poor Hobie," Ned chuckles, handing Hobie a glass of cold water.

"Shut up, you bloody tosser" Hobie grumbles.

"How'd it go with y/n?" Yuri questions Hobie.

He doesn't have time to answer her question when Hobie touches the cold glass, it feels weird in his hand, wincing, pulling back his hand like it burnt him. "Fuck" the glass falls in slowmotion, he catches it before it shatters into the hard floor.

The group looks at him surprised and amazed at his fast reflexes.

"Yoooo" Ned exclaims. Yuri acts unimpressed, checking her nails.

"How'd you do that?" James watches as Hobie gulps the entire drink, glass thumping against the wooden pub table.

"I've got to go" Hobie's eyes are blown out, senses overwhelmed. He still feels thirsty and hungry, very hungry.

His friends call out to him in concern, Ned tries to follow him but too many people block his path in reaching Hobie. Ned tries to get his attention by yelling Hobie's name.

Wobbling on shaky legs, Hobie bumps into someone. Lacey turns around to smile at him, fluttering her lashes.

"Hobs! You made it!" She tries to offer him a shot of vodka, the smell wafts his senses.

"Not now" he grimaces, declining. Hobie continues walking towards the exit. Clambering on his bike, he speeds off.

Hobie hears Ned and Lacey call out to him, ignoring them. Wind nips at his bare arms as he rides away.

He dodges cars on the road, some angrily honking at him. His eyes seem to open up to everything, aware of every little movement on the road. Heart thumping loudly in his chest, Hobie follows the road back to his place. If he heads to yours, you would force him to go to the ER. He's stubborn, thinking a good night's rest and some ibuprofen would knock this sickness off him.

You, he smiles at the simple thought of you. Hobie's glad he took that chance in the museum, judging from how you kissed his cheek and your goofy smile you made right after, it's safe to say that you feel the same way. He can still feel the ghost of your lips on his cheek, lingering on his skin like your perfume.

Distracted, Hobie almost collides with a van, gasping, eyes wide, he swerves away last minute, avoiding a collision. "Shit!" He screams, sparing a quick glance at the driver he almost hit.

You're right, he should drive carefully, especially now that he finally told you how he feels. Hobie feels like he should've been more blunt, deciding to be more direct tomorrow when you meet. He wants to spend more time with you, more than excited to see you again.

Hobie finally reaches his houseboat. Opening the front door, tugging his boots off, tossing it haphazardly. He takes his sweaty clothes off, leaving him in only his boxers. Exhaustion claims him before his hunger did, landing harshfully on his bed, he sleeps like a corpse.

—

Hobie wakes up weird, not like 'I woke up on the wrong side of bed' weird, but a 'I feel like I climbed Everest while asleep' weird. He groans at his blaring alarm clock, the sound seems to be amplified in his sensitive ears. Shielding his ears with a pillow doesn't help with the loud ringing sound.

Frustrated, Hobie turns to shut it off, shattering the poor alarm clock with his fist. He looks at his hand like it grew an extra finger in his sleep. The clock beeps sadly before it shuts off completely. Hobie sits up, extremely aware of his surroundings, he can see everything like his eyesight improved a hundred times more. From the dust bunnies in the corner of his room, to the lone ant skittering on his floors. The sound of dripping water from the faucet is annoyingly loud. The hum of his radiator stings his ears.

Goosebumps appear on his arms before a draft whooshes past him. Maybe he has a fever? Hobie feels at his forehead, finding it to be a normal temperature. So not a fever? He wipes at his sweaty forehead, moist clinging to him like glue.

He stands up, seeing his mattress covered in his sweat, leaving a Hobie shaped mark on his green sheets.

"I need water" he says to no one, smacking his dry lips. Hobie's starving like he hasn't eaten in days, stomach gurgling at the thought of food.

Opening the bedroom door, he accidentally breaks the doorknob right from its socket. "What the fuck?" Hobie's sure he's not that strong. The metal doorknob falls harshly on the wooden floors, the sound banging at his eardrums.

Grabbing the hole where the doorknob should be, he pulls it open, unaware of his new found strength, ripping it right off its hinges. "Fuck?!" The door sticks to his hand, unable to shake it off even with all his fingers letting it go. Shaking the flimsy wood, he has no other choice but to bang it on the side of the wall, it shatters effortlessly. He looks at the shards of wood with shock and confusion.

Hobie breathlessly looks at his hand where a piece of the door is still stuck on his palm. He tries to shake it off while heading towards his bathroom. More aware of his strength, he carefully pushes the door with his hip. Stepping inside he opens the faucet to wash off his supposed sticky hand. Hobie, forgetting about his unusually strong grip, flings the metal right off the sink, water splashes his face in a rush.

"No!" He splutters, water hitting him right on his face.

Panic settles in his chest, he grabs whatever piece of cloth he has inside the small bathroom, tossing it to the gushing water, trying to stop its flow. His ear perks up when he hears your footsteps getting closer to the door. He has no idea how he can hear your shoes hitting the floor of his boat.

"Shit" Hobie can't let you see him like this. Glancing at himself in the mirror, he looks like a mess. Water dripped from his face to his torso, hair sticking in different angles, lips dry from dehydration. Not to mention he's only wearing his boxers.

Rushing out of the bathroom, he slips on the wet floor, sliding around his boat, hip hitting his rickety table, the landline and answering machine falls harshly on the ground. He falls on his ass trying to save it from falling.

The phone's dial tone beeps loudly. His answering machine lay open on the ground, the speaker letting out bits and pieces of what sounds like Lacey's last voicemail.

"Hey, Hobs– are you…Hey, Hobs– here?... can…Hobs?" Her voice annoyingly continues in a loop, speaker unusually loud and clear for an old machine, Hobie has no time to silence it when you knock again, voice muffled, asking if he's okay. He looks like he's in an episode of looney tunes, slipping on the floor comically while his hands stick to everything he touches for support.

"I'm fine!" he yells back to you, forgetting you can't hear a thing from outside. Hobie groans in pain, wincing, hand nursing his sore ass. Breathless from sliding all over his boat. At least the piece of wood isn't stuck on his palm anymore, landing somewhere he wouldn't bother to look for. Hobie almost slips again when he reaches the door, using the wall to stop his fall.

He flexes his fingers, trying to control his strength, opening the door a little too harshly for his taste (good thing he didn't rip it off this time) your concerned face greets him. He licks his dry lips, trying to look semi presentable.

Seeing his jacket on you in the morning light makes him speechless, it hugs you comfortably, sleeves too long for your arms, yet you don't fold it so that you don't damage its leather. Hobie holds the doorknob harshly, trying to stop himself from kissing you right there and then.

The world grows dim around you, bathing you in a spotlight, you're the only thing that matters to him at that moment. He can't believe it took him this long to tell you how much he—

"Hobs?"

Lacey's voicemail loops again, cutting his words before it leaves his lips.

Hobie watches your face turn from concern to anguish in a matter of seconds. Your lips quiver, turning harshly from him. He tries to grab you by the shoulder, fingertips grazing his jacket.

"Y/n! Wait!" He tries to follow but he literally can't move, feet sticking to the floor like he's trying to wade through maple syrup. "Fuck! What the fuck!"

There's a sharp pain in his chest as he watches you run away from him. "Y/n!" He tries again, futile.

—

Hobie sits on his lumpy settee, still in his boxers, eyes staring blankly at the open front door, cold seeping inside. He clutches the cursed answering machine in his hands, wanting to slam it against the wall. Alas it still works no matter how busted it looks, he's sure he can still fix it. Answering machines are damn expensive anyway, even if they are cursed.

He jumps when a mosquito buzzes inside his living room, the bug's wings flapping clearly in his vision. Hobie chokes on air.

"What the fuck is happening!" He screams into the void of his empty house boat.

His first thought is you, if anyone could help him with his affliction it would be you. But it doesn't seem like you're in a chatting mood. Hobie curses the answering machine again, he should've at least said goodbye to Lacey before leaving, if he did, she wouldn't have left that voicemail. Or better yet, he should've tried harder to run after you, hold you in his arms and explain everything. Public indecency be damned.

"Stupid fuckin' machine" Hobie places the machine on his sofa, reflecting in the what ifs.

The annoying buzzing sound from the mosquito gets closer to him, he has had enough of this bugger. jumping immediately when the bug stops right above him, intending to squish it, Hobie finds himself jumping higher than before, like an astronaut leaping in low gravity. He yelps, panicking, reaching towards the ceiling.

Instead of falling on the hard wooden floors, his hands and feet stick to the ceiling like velcro. The mosquito mockingly flies past his head and onto his hand, making Hobie look at his fingertips closely, seeing tiny spikes all over his palms and fingers.

"What the fuck?" He whispers, Hobie tries to wiggle himself free. Grunting, he figures if he relaxes, his hold would loosen. Exhaling, the stickiness loosen, fingers slowly unsticks to the ceiling. He begins to fall, landing hard on his bare back.

"Argh!" He yelps a pained yell. "My back!" Reaching behind to rub his sore muscle. Hobie stands up, stretching his torso, testing his shoulders for any pain.

Hobie limps towards the sofa, sitting back down, feeling every thread under him, overwhelming his senses. Trying to tamp down his panic, relaxing on its lumpy cushions. He broods in the weird situation for a few minutes.

"I'm a mutant," Hobie says in bewilderment after a moment of reprieve. At the last word, he remembers one person who could also help him, someone who's into comic books that has superpowered mutants in it. But first he heads to his kitchen, raiding his fridge for much needed sustenance.

He could maybe try to get used to his strength, he can't ride his motorcycle like this, afraid he might accidentally break it. So Hobie spends the entire day bouncing around his boat, exploring his new found abilities, eating everything in his fridge, trying to find out where he got the abilities and most importantly, trying to call your dorm.

Hobie hopes you pick up soon.

—

Hobie bangs at Ned's door, "Ned! It's me!"

A few minutes later, a disgruntled Ned opens the door, wearing a fluffy bathrobe. "Hobie? What the fuck! It's seven am! What are you doing in Richmond?"

"She's not talking to me" Hobie pushes past Ned to get inside his new flat.

"Welcome, come inside" he sarcastically says, "Christ" shutting the door.

Hobie takes a few seconds to look around the sparse flat, boxes are littered around the place, a disassembled shelf sits in the corner, plates and pans placed haphazardly on the kitchen counter. He turns around to face a tired Ned.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" Hobie points at Ned's questionable fashion.

"Don't fucking mind that" Ned tries to cover himself up with his arms crossed on his chest, "What the fuck are you doing this fucking early? And what did you do now?"

"I think there's something wrong with me, Ned"

Ned looks at Hobie's disheveled state. "Clearly there is." Hobie rolls his eyes at his friend's quip "Wait hold on, why isn't y/n talking to you?"

"I told her" knowing exactly what Hobie meant, Ned has a huge grin, proud of his friend. "And she seemed to feel the same"

Ned dramatically gasps, "I could've told you that," rolling his eyes, "good on you. Continue"

"The next day, she knocks on the door with me answering half fucking naked and sweaty–"

"Way to lay it on her, bruv" Ned teases.

"Yeah, after that we had hot steamy sex–"

Ned plugs his ears with his fingers, "Nope! Can't hear you!" Regretting his joke.

"It's not fucking like that you wanker" Hobie huffs, "she thought I hooked up with someone, and she ran"

"Have you tried calling her?"

"Of course I did, she wouldn't answer. Her RA wouldn't let me in, said she's sick or somethin'"

"Mate, look you're one of my best mates" Ned pinches the bridge of his nose. "But it's seven fucking am! I don't have the energy to put up with your lover's quarrel!"

"I fuckin' know that, it's not just that. D'you think I would wake up this bloody early? I haven't fuckin' slept"

"What else then?"

"It's best if I show you" Hobie jumps high, stumbling a bit, hands sticking to Ned's ceiling. He dangles by his hand, long legs swinging from the momentum. "Remember the spider bite?"

Ned laughs loudly before his eyes roll back to his head, falling down like a sack of potatoes, unconscious body hitting the carpeted floor.

"Shit" Hobie says while sticking to the ceiling. It's gonna be a long day, maybe he should help Ned with unpacking while he explains. But first he needs to help his unconscious friend off the floor.

—

A few days later, Hobie tries again to contact you again, leaning against his bike in your campus' parking lot, waiting to see your familiar face. He flexes his stiff hands, unusually anxious to see you again.

Hobie reeled himself in from bothering you for a few days, busying himself with handling whatever that spider gave him. He stopped calling you, maybe space is what you need, even if it hurts him to do so. He will never admit that though, not to Ned, not to anyone, even you.

He feels like an absolute stalker standing in the parking lot, eyes darting around, he hates it. But Hobie misses you terribly. He misses your voice, especially when your hand is cupped in his, squeezing his hand, telling him you're still right next to him. He feels your absence right inside his ribcage, eating away at him like spilled acid.

He finally sees you come out of the building, a soft smile appearing on his lips. You clutch a heavy bag on your shoulder, stacks of books and notebooks in your arms. Hobie notices your downturned gaze, a frown in place instead of your usual smile. You don't see him in the lot, a sea of cars blocking him from your line of sight. You walk away from the doors, mind seemingly occupied.

Hobie weaves through parked cars, eyes fixated to your retreating form. Someone catches up to you before he does, He stops abruptly, watching as someone wearing glasses taps your shoulder getting your attention. Turning around, you smile sweetly at the man in a sweater vest, lips moving to talk to him.

You still haven't noticed Hobie.

From where Hobie's standing, he can't make out what you're talking about with the guy, but you seem to be engaged in the conversation, nodding at his words. Hobie waits for you to finish talking to the man, he needs to talk to you without an audience. Hobie has no idea how to start but he'll be damned if he doesn't explain everything to you. He can't let your ten year relationship go to waste just like that.

He can't lose you because of something so stupid.

Hobie shifts from foot to foot, impatient. The conversation looks like it's about to end, the glasses guy tries to hand you something, your hands full, trying to balance your stuff in your arms. The man offers to take your books for you instead, you sheepishly thank him with a smile, exchanging your books for the package he was handing to you.

Hobie watches as your fingers grazes the unknown man's hands, passing the heavy stationary to him. The man says something, making you giggle. You point at the direction of your dorm, he nods, following you, continuing the conversation.

Hobie isn't a jealous man, the guy looks like he has good intentions, he appears to be nice. You deserve someone nice, you deserve so much more.

He starts to walk away when a familiar woman who Hobie has probably seen in your class. She jogs towards you, pink hair shiny in the sun. You greet her with a timid smile, introducing her to the other guy, you three walk by, talking comfortably with each other.

You'll be fine, Hobie thinks. But will he?

Hobie swallows the lump in his throat, walking back to his bike with a heavy weight weighing him down. His chest feels like something's crushing it, waiting for him to keel over.

—

The boat rocks softly in the waves, he clicks his tongue in annoyance. Hobie tinkers with his invention, still a prototype, he screws in a canister with a screwdriver, entirely focused on the little gadget.

Goosebumps appear on his arms, hearing your familiar footfalls. He stands up immediately, Hobie needs to explain everything to you that it was just a misunderstanding, a very *stupid misunderstanding. He rushes towards the front door when he hears you running away again.

Opening the door, you're nowhere to be found. He gets out onto the 'porch' of his boat to look for you, nothing, just your perfume lingering in the air.

"Goddamnit" Hobie looks down at his feet, dejected. He sees a box wrapped in red sitting next to his front door. Bending down, he gingerly grabs it. His eyes go straight to the piece of paper taped on top of the packaging.

It's his favour card, Hobie frowns at it, flipping the card over, he reads your familiar handwriting, a single word scribbled on it: Please.

A/N: Me: i hate miscommunication tropes, also me: hehehehehe.

Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it ❤️ reblogging encourages me to write more ❤️

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Daryl was surprised to see you headed straight for him when he looked up. You had a small pack slung over your shoulder and he straightened up beside his bike. “Hey,” you greeted him, giving him a small smile. “Are you heading out of the walls today?” you asked.

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed, nodding. “Why? Ya need somethin’?”

You shifted your weight nervously. “Kinda. I was hoping maybe I could tag along,” you said. 

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “I dunno... Ain’t safe out there.”

You nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m asking to go with you instead of alone.” You moved closer and your voice dropped to a low, almost conspiratorial tone. “But if I don’t get the fuck out of this suburbia, I’m going to freak out.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah, I hear that...” He paused, thinking about this carefully. He didn’t want anything to happen to you. You weren’t that experienced with fighting off walkers yet. His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of more approaching footsteps. 

Both of you spun to see Aiden approaching. 

Daryl watched you turn away and sigh, closing your eyes momentarily and shaking your head a little. You looked annoyed.

“Everythin’ alrigh’?” Daryl asked quietly, his eyes flickering between you and Aiden striding over.

“Oh, yeah... It’s fine. It’s just—this asshole,” you murmured. “He’s been annoying the shit out of me lately. Always asking if I can ‘help’ him with some stupid thing he doesn’t really need help with. I can’t tell if he’s trying to hit on me or just likes trying to order me around.”

Daryl felt a flush of hot anger in his chest. He glared at Aiden over your shoulder. “Maybe both,” he growled. A moment later, Aiden stopped beside you.

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” he said, trying to flash you what he thought was a charming smile. 

“Go figure,” you said, moderately tinged with sarcasm.

“I need help with some—”

“She can’t help ya righ’ now. She’s headin’ out with me,” Daryl said, resting his hand on the handlebar of his bike.

Aiden frowned. “Heading out to do what?”

“Don’t think that matters. We’re busy,” Daryl said.

Aiden’s eyes seemed to darken with his glare back at Daryl. “That’s the first I’ve heard of it.”

Daryl let out a scoff. “That s’posed to matter? Ya ain’t King ‘round here. And we dun need your approval to do shit,” he snapped at him. “C’mon,” he said more gently to you. “Let’s go.”

You couldn’t help smiling to yourself and gladly accepted Daryl’s hand as he helped you onto his bike. He settled down in front of you and you wrapped your arms around him, scooting in close. Aiden seemed to be seething. 

Daryl revved the engine to life. 

“Well, be back before dark!” Aiden yelled over the engine.

“We’ll be back when we wanna be back,” Daryl countered. And leaving behind only a cloud of dust, the two of you were gone.

Prompt: “Oh, yeah. This asshole.”

[some-of-us-watch-the-sunset-too]

Can you do headcanons for what the guys and their SO do on their birthday (like if they have the same birthday as their SO, what do they do?)

A/N: i really liked writing this actually! it was surprisingly wholesome since i was crying watching the movie while writing this. i really need more angst asks 😭

Tags: Fluff, hcs, birthday, all the boys

Warnings: it does kind of hint at sexual activity (thanks for that dal) but there’s no detail or anything like that so it should be fine!

The boys on their S/O’s birthday

Darry

Always the gentleman Dar would make sure you feel like the most important person in the world on your birthday.

Breakfast. In. Bed. Darry will make you the most extravagant breakfast with all your favourite foods and deliver it to you as soon as you wake up.

He’ll take the day off work (which is really rare for him!) just so the two of you can have fun and spend time together.

If he was planning a party he would let you know, just so you could tell him whether you wanted one or not

Ponyboy

He would be so cute omg-

He’d slip you a piece of paper during class telling you to meet him either in an empty classroom or under the bleachers at lunch that day. when you get there he will have made you a card and bought you a single cupcake. unless you go with my other hcs, in that case he would have gotten johnny to make cupcakes for you.

I don’t think that Pony would want to throw you a party. i think he would be more for hanging out in the vacant lot all night.

Ok hear me out- you two have been dating about a month and you’re just hanging out in the lot for your birthday. you two are talking and chatting when he realises he didn’t get you anything for your birthday. you try to tell him that it’s ok that you don’t need anything but he insists on giving you something so….BOOM first kiss right there!

Sodapop

Soda is just a tiny bit cruel so he’d probably pretend that he forgot your birthday as a joke.

You would go down to visit him in the DX and he’d be there like “i know i’m forgettin’ somethin’ bit i dunno what. is it Stevo’s birthday?”

He’d do this until you either got really upset or told him it was your birthday.

Once he revealed he didn’t forget he’d have a party planned for you and by god it would be a good party. He’d have your favourite foods, he would have rented out bucks and paid Tim Shepard or someone to act as a bouncer so nobody you didn’t like could get in.

This boy- he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you all night. Kissing, holding your hand, hugging you from behind, simply having his hand around your waist/shoulders? he doesn’t care as long as you’re with him.

Dally

Dally wouldn’t be one to treat you special on your birthday. he’d go on like normal. it’s just how he is 🤷‍♂️

I think he’d say something like “it’s your birthday today, ain’t it?” and when you said yeah he’d just say something like “thought so” and walk away.

If he gets you a gift? i wouldn’t bet that it was acquired legally. but he still cares. he would most likely get you a new blade or something like that.

Even though on the day he wouldn’t be very attentive that night he’d get buck to close the bar early so you two could have some alone time. I’m thinking slow dancing in the bar alone. he’s a really bad dancer but he still tries. and i mean it’s dally we’re talking about so you probably know what would happen later that night…

Two-Bit

Your birthday to Two is just the perfect time for pranks, he doesn’t really know why, it just is. he would switch your orange juice for milk that he put orange food dye into, hide random things in your room, the basic pranks yk? maybe switch the fruit in your fruit bowl for that wax fruit.

He would be planning a surprise party in the Curtis’ place for like- a month before your birthday. it would be the best party ever. he’d even watch his drinking so you could have fun without having to babysit Two.

Exact same as soda, he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you. though he’d probably be a little less wholesome, kinda like Dal.

He’d make some drunken toast at the party about how hot you are and how lucky he is to have you. he’s cringy like that plus he’s pissed drunk when he gives the roast so it’s not his fault

Steve

Steve doesn’t get as much appreciation as he should, he’s adorable! he wouldn’t be a gentleman like Darry but he wouldn’t be ignoring the fact it was your birthday like Dal. He would probably make some agreement that if you could win a challenge that on your birthday he couldn’t say no to you (with limits ofc. you couldn’t tell him to jump into freezing water cause you dropped a sandwich into it or you couldn’t tell him to kill someone yk? limits.) he’d probably let you win though tbh

So you’ve won this bet. now what? he’s your personal butler for the day! want coffee? ask Steve! need a hug? ask Steve! He would be at your beckon call at all times (that’s the saying right?)

He’d also plan you a party, just not a surprise party. He would have it in the lot since it has the most space so nobody will be cramped together.

Johnny

He would make you a present rather than buy one since he doesn’t have much money. i think that’s cuter and more thoughtful than anything else tbh.

He would want to hang out together all day. maybe you two would go to the drive in that night?

I don’t think parties are johnnies thing so he would plan that you and the rest of the boys have dinner in the Curtis’ and then if you wanted to go out he wouldn’t stop you.

[holdinonto-heartache]

Summary: y/n and Freddie tag along with Louis on his tour. Y/N’s hormones have her all out of wack, so along with being emotional, she craves sex with Louis.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, dominant!Louis, cocky!louis, daddy!louis, pregnant!y/n, unprotected before show sex, semi rough actions such as hair pulling, biting, slight breeding kink?, just filth

My first copy of this got deleted, but after writing this I’m not even mad about it.. enjoy! Lots of dirty stuff in this for ya ;)

Master List

——

You sat on the edge of the bed, letting out a sigh as you run a hand through your hair.

“Why the long face, babe?” Louis turns and looks at you, “Freddie ready?”

Usually you’d laugh because that rhymed, but you just shrug, “I don’t think he’s adjusting well to the baby that’s coming..” your hormones are awful, you just cry over everything right now, “I just..” you take a deep breathe and look up at him, “Louis I don’t want him to hate me.”

“Whoa, hey. He ain’t gonna hate ya, babe.” Louis walks over and kneels down in front of you, “He loves you, alright? He’s just.. having a bad day. I’ll go see if he’ll talk to me, yeah? You finish getting ready, we do have to leave soon.”

“Okay.” You whisper as he plants a kiss on your forehead.

He leans back and flashes you a smile, “You okay?” He brushes hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear, “You’re beautiful, you know that right?”

You nod and lay a hand on his cheek, “You remind me everyday.” You bite your lip and tilt your head.

“What’s going on in that mind, love?” Louis tilts his head the same way as yours, “Somethin’ we probably don’t got time for?”

You sigh and let out a groan, “Probably.”

“Whoa, hey chill out, calm down.” Louis laughs and lays his hands on your hands.

You roll your eyes and pretend to pout, “These hormones have me getting extremely turned on by your every move.”

“I’ve noticed.” Louis smirks and raises his eyebrows.

“Has it really been that bad?” You let out a sigh, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, now.” He lays his hand on your belly and leans up to peck your lips, “Didn’t say I didn’t like it. Just wish I could do it a little more often.”

You laugh and push him back, “We have to leave now before we really do end up late.”

Louis let’s out a laugh and stands up, “You’ll get me in a little bit, I’ll make sure of it.”

“I’m holding you to that, Tommo.” You bite your lip and smile before leaning in to kiss him.”

“Alright, I’m going to see if I can talk with him.” Louis smacks your ass gently before walking away. You try to smack him but he jumps away, “Ha!”

You laugh and finish getting ready,

——

“Freddie, hey! Don’t slam the door.” Louis sighs and shakes his head, “Sorry. He’s just not having it today.”

“That’s okay.” You smile and sigh, “Everyone is allowed to have bad days. I’ll talk to him later.” You go to reach for your bag, but Louis grabs it before you, “Nope.”

“Louis, come on. I can carry my own bag.”

He looks over at you, “Do you want to tell everyone here today?”

“Yeah.” You nod and smile, “Actually, we’ll let Freddie tell them.”

Louis nods and smiles, “Oh yeah, yeah.” He gives you a peck on the cheek, “I’m gonna go check in. You go get settled.”

You nod and wave back at him as he walks up towards the stage.

You make your way to Louis’ dressing room and stop when you see Freddie laying on the couch, “Hey, Freddie.”

“Hey.” He mumbles quietly.

“Can I sit?”

He nods and sits up to scoot over more.

You sit down and rest your hands in your lap, “You know.. your dad loves you more than me.”

You can see his eyebrows perk up.

“And you know who loves just as much as you?”

He slowly looks over at you and points to your belly.

“That’s right. He loves your baby brother just as much as he loves you.” You tilt your head, “You know that right?”

He fights a smile while nodding, “Yes.”

“And you know that I love you just as much as your mom and dad love you, right?” You smile as he looks at you, “Things are going to change, honey, but always know that the one thing that isn’t going to change is how much we love you.”

He smiles and nods, “Sorry I slammed your car door.”

“It’s okay.” You fight back the over emotional tears and holds your arms out. He laughs and gives you a hug, “Can we go watch dad?”

“Yeah that’s probably a good idea.” You laugh and stand up, wiping your face. Freddie takes your hand and leads you guys to side of the stage.

You stand there, Freddie’s hand still in yours, watching as he tries to get his dads attention. You glance up at Louis and smile as he turns to face you.

He smiles as he watches Freddie wave excitedly to him. Louis motions for him to come out and Freddie runs to him.

You bite your lip, the sight of Louis in dad mode makes your hormones go absolutely bonkers.

You squeeze your thighs together and blink as Louis walks up to you, “Hey.” You smile and take a deep breathe.

“You still wanna tell them?” Louis asks as he reaches up and gently brushes your cheek.

You know exactly what he’s doing.

You glance up at him, “I know what you’re doing.”

“You had a hair, babe.” He reaches up and brushes your cheek again. You grab his hand and lean in towards him.

“Unless that hand is going to go somewhere and give me something I so very badly need, don’t touch me.”

He chuckles and pecks your lips, “You’ll get it, babe. Just hang tight, alright?” He bites his lip to hide his smirk, “Now c’mon.” He pulls on your hand walks you out onto the stage.

He pulls Freddie into the middle of us, “Can everyone come here for a quick sec? Just come over here.. right quick yeah.”

Everyone gathers around and you look down at Freddie. You poke his shoulder a few times, gently, “I think you should tell them.”

“Really?” His raises his eyebrows and smiles.

“Yeah, go for it, lad.” Louis ruffles his hair and Freddie looks around, “I’m going to be a big brother!”

His words are quiet at first but by the time he said ‘to’ he was yelling it.

You smile and lay your hand on Louis‘ that rests on your belly. His thumb gently rubbing the fabric of your t shirt and leans in, “This drives you crazy doesn’t it?” He whispers, “Me touching you?”

You take a shaky deep breathe and Louis tightens his grip on your body as your knees buckle slightly, “Whoa. Need to sit?”

He already has a smirk on his face because he knows exactly what you’re going to say.

“Yeah, your cock.” You both whisper quietly at the same time. You freeze and look at him before you both laugh, “You know me so we’ll.”

He shrugs, “What can I say?” He gives you a kiss, “You’re so getting it after the show.”

Freddie turns towards you and Louis, “Can we go get ready now?”

“Yeah, honey. You can wear the shirt with your dads smiley face.” You look up at Louis and smile.

“Yes! Yes!” Freddie grabs your hand and you look up at Louis, “See in a few.” He kisses you one last time before you and Freddie go back to the dressing room.

——

You cap the lid to your mascara as Louis enters the room. You set the tube down and look over at Louis, “Hey babe.”

His eyes glance up and down your show ready body, and the fact that you’re showing off your bump makes it hotter to him.

You tilt your head towards Freddie who is watching tv, indicating to Louis that he needs to keep it clean.

“Hey uh, Freddie.” Louis glances from you to Freddie as he talks, “Why don’t you go into the lounge and wait for Uncle Niall and Amelia.”

“Uncle Niall is coming?! Alright!” He runs out of the room and Louis instantly shuts and locks the door.

He walks over to you and you can’t help but meet him halfway, “Gotta be quick?”

He nods with a smirk, “And quiet, yeah?”

His hands travel down your body as his lips move in sync with yours.

His fingers pull up your long shirt, and tuck it under your tied t-shirt that rests at the top of your bump.

“So fuckin’ sexy showing your bump off.” He kneels down, pressing his lips gently to your skin. He pulls down your panties, gliding them down your thighs.

He lets them drop and he looks up at you, “Need you on my face.” He lays down on the couch and motions for you to move up.

You straddle his head and place one hand in his already messed up hair. He looks from you to your pussy before pulling your hips down.

You pull his hair and grip the back of the couch, “Fuck, oh fuck.”

You feel the grip of his hands tighten each time you moan out, “Fuck, yes daddy.”

You feel him moan against you and you squeeze your thighs shut as you cum. He continues to eat you out through your high, “Fuck.” He groans.

You move your hips back and look down at him. He gives you a smirk, “How do you want it?”

You bite your lip and shrug, I can just lean on the back of the couch?”

“If that works for you.”

You get up and watch as Louis stands up. He nods towards the couch and watches as you stand on your knees. You lean back, resting your elbows on it.

You bite your lip, excitement building up as you hear him shuffle out of his sweats. He strokes himself a few times before rubbing the head of his cock against your folds.

“Been thinking ‘bout this all day.” He closes his eyes, a moan escaping from his lips as pussy hugs his cock perfectly.

“Fuck, yes.” You moan and push your hips back more, “Fuck, daddy yes.” You whimper out and Louis pushes his cock all the way in, moaning out, “I fuckin’ love when you call me that.”

“Watching you in dad mode is so fucking hot.” You whine out and move your hips against his, “Fuck, Louis move. Please.”

Louis slowly starts to thrust, “Seein’ you in mom mode really gets me going too, babe. Fuck.” He slides a hand up your back, “How rough?”

“Rough, you can be rough.” You moan out as Louis slides his hand into your hair and grabs a fistful.

Louis picks up the speed of his thrust and pulls your hair to tilt your head back, “You’re so fuckin’ hot. Showin’ off that bump to let people know that you’re mine.”

His words send you over the edge, “Yesyesyesyes.” You moan as you cum around his cock.

“Shh. Baby.” He releases the grip on your hair and rubs his hand over it before he pulls his cock out and pulls your hips, “Come here.”

You stand up and turn around to face him, “You need a day off soon.”

Louis chuckles, “Yeah? Why’s that, babe?”

“So you can be doing this all day.” You reach out and grab his cock, slowly pumping it in your hand. He bites his lip and tilts his head to look at you, “I’m getting a day off and it’ll be you and me. All day long.”

You sit down on the couch and pull him with you. His hands hold up his weight as he leans down and connects his lips with yours again.

There’s a knock on the door and Louis’ head shoots straight up, “Freddie alright?”

“Yeah he’s fine, it’s so-“

“It can wait.” He doesn’t waste another second and presses his lips to yours once again and slips his cock inside of you.

He swallows your moans, keeping your moans muffled as he slides his cock in and out of you quickly.

“Fuck, y/n. I’m gonna cum.” Louis moans out, “cum with me, yeah?”

“S-so close.” You pant out. Louis kisses down your neck, biting a mark into your skin.

You clench his cock and roll your eyes roll back as you cling to him. You feel his cock twitch inside of you and you moan against his lips, kissing him a few times.

“Fuck.” Louis sighs and smiles, “you’re so fuckin’ incredible.” He stands up and gets you a towel, “Here.”

“Thank you.” You take the towel and wipe off. You stand up and redress yourself.

“I’m glad you’re showing it off.” Louis smiles at you.

“Yeah?” You pose for him with your hands pulling your dress tighter against your bump.

Louis watches you and shakes his head, “Uh huh. I really do.” He walks over and pulls you in for a kiss.

“Because it shows off that you’re mine.” He chuckles slightly and kisses for forehead, “I’m going to get around, I’ll meet you out with Freddie and them.”

“Sounds good.” You bite your lip and smile at him. He watches you as he back away and smiles before turning, “I like those crazy hormones, babe.”

“You’re annoying.” You yell with a laugh.

“That’s why you married me. You love me.”

“That I do.” You shake your head and walk out to greet the others, “Hey, sorry. I had a uh-“ you laugh slightly and glance down at Freddie, “Hormonal emergency if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, no totally get it.” Amelia chuckles and holds her hand up. You both look at Niall and laugh at his shocked expression, “I didn’t need t’know that, y/n. Ugh.”

“When does dad go on?” Freddie asks looking up at you. You look down at him, “I believe he goes on here soon.”

He nods and looks around, “There he is!”

“Here I am. Hello, hello. Good to see you again, Amelia.” Louis smiles and wraps his arm around your waist.

“Good to see you, good luck tonight.” She smiles, “Oh and congratulations again. Sorry I wasn’t there in person when you told Niall.”

“No it’s alright, thank you. Yeah we’re excited.” Louis nods and rubs your belly.

“Freddie is already the best big brother.” You smile down at him.

“Louis. We’re going to start.”

“Yeah alright.” He turns and looks at Niall and Amelia, “See you after, yeah?”

“Course, lad.” Niall nods and Amelia agrees.

“Hey.” Louis grabs your hand and pulls you away from the group. “As soon as I’m done with my show, I want you in that dressing room.”

You nod, “Yes, daddy.” You smile and lean in to kiss him, “You got this, babe. We love you.”

“I fuckin’ love you.” He kisses your hand and waves to Freddie. You take Freddie and go to the side of the stage and Niall and Amelia follow.

“Wanna see something funny?” Niall laughs and leans forward slightly as Louis is in between songs. He holds himself there until some of the fans start to scream.

He leans back and Amelia hits his shoulder, “That’s so mean.”

You laugh and look over at him, “if you think that was bad, let me move out into the open.”

You move up and rest your elbow on the speaker, waving at some fans who spot you, trying to gain some attention.

Soon enough cameras are pointed at you and you laugh and motion for Niall and Amelia to come up.

They pop up beside you and the fans absolutely lose it.

You glance over at Louis and he’s watching you guys. Niall and Amelia back up and you step out, bump on full display.

You motion for Louis to just say something about it. He raises his eyebrows, double checking with you. You nod and smile.

“You guys have been absolutely incredible tonight!” Louis yells out. He lets the crowd cheer a little bit before speaking, “And for that I feel like you guys deserve something, so do you guys want to know something that we’ve all been keeping a secret?”

Louis teases the fans and they go absolutely berserk.

He laughs and holds her arms up, egging them on with their repetitive chant of ‘tell us’.

“Alright, alright.” He starts out and the crowd goes quiet. After a quick moment of silent he pointed at you, “My wife is pregnant!” The grow instantly goes wild and Louis celebrates, “Freddie is going to be a big brother!”

You hug Freddie and cheer with the crowd.

Louis runs over and hugs you, “Congratulations. You’ll be number one trending on twitter.”

You smirk, “We can worry about that in the morning.”

He smiles and kisses you before going back out on stage.

You laugh and look at Niall and Amelia, “You guys will be second trending on twitter.”

——

This is my first ever Louis smut and I hope you like it!

If you want to check out my Harry and Niall Smut One Shots you can go here -> @cinemastyles-blog @wastedonhoran

Likes and re blogs are very much appreciated <3