#Fishing Camping Store
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Outdoor Portable Fire Pit: The Perfect Addition to Any Campsite
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Back on the island for vacation. When I'm not driving around to the fun places, I've been hanging out on the bench swing under my old cedar tree:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7f76a707c00f061dd6bc614cce516a81/1c8139a4e23415ae-04/s540x810/5243030676f2981ad5e4415f90d953313bc7ae2f.jpg)
A little more overgrown than it used to be, but peaceful and very green this time of year.
#I've been making up for lost time last year when i couldn't leave the valley due to fires and road closures#bought a sofa and chair at the thrift store yesterday and some glass fishing floats and a hammock for the house yesterday#the shopping really is better here than at home#museum tomorrow and going to the beach on the weekend#M is here for the weekend so probably more hiking then too#W is clearing out a space in the old campground for her and some friends to camp closer to town#so I've also been hanging out down there with the kiddos while they work
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my little brother has an Object. the Object is a tiny tv set. but it is also. a compass. a lantern AND a flashlight (opposite sides). a radio. it is jeep branded. it is older than he is.
he and his buddy are going camping Exclusively. because of the Object. so that's also a feature it has.
#ink post#my family#'camping' is probably overly generous? i cant deny the fishing or the tent (with dog door)(no dog same thrift store trip as the Object)#but also like... my mom is packing them RAW STEAKS???? maybe leftover ones i think?#and they'll be like. A mile up the mountain from our grandparents who are charged with calling an ambulance if/when needed#they are NOT bringing smores supplies. i know this bc i am now in possession of a Lot of chocolate not being used in smores.#just. i would not trust these 2 to make me a steak at home under parental supervision#my brother has no camping knowledge and while his friend does he also goes by gibby exclusively. yes after the icarly character.#on the upside they wont see any dangerous wildlife bc gibby is a cheering football stadium in human form
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From Under the Sea to Dry Land: Hosting the Perfect 6 Year Old's Sea Fish Birthday Party
Celebrate your little one’s big day with a "6 Year Old Sea Fish Birthday Boy" theme that brings the ocean to life! This vibrant theme is perfect for young marine enthusiasts, offering a fun and adventurous
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atmosphere for the party. Decorate with colorful sea creatures, such as playful fish, friendly dolphins, and cheerful crabs, to create an underwater paradise that will delight all the guests.
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Party favors such as mini toy fish, seashells, or ocean stickers will ensure that the fun lasts even after the celebration ends. This theme not only makes for an unforgettable birthday party but also encourages a love for marine life and the beauty of the ocean. Make this birthday a splash with a memorable sea fish celebration that your little boy will treasure!
Dive into fun with a "6th Birthday Party Ocean" theme that captures the magic of the sea! Perfect for young ocean lovers, this theme transforms your celebration into an underwater adventure. Decorate with vibrant colors, featuring playful sea creatures like fish, dolphins, and starfish to create a festive atmosphere.
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Plan engaging activities such as a treasure hunt for hidden gems or ocean-themed crafts that spark creativity. Delicious snacks can include fish-shaped cookies, ocean-blue jello, and a stunning cake adorned with marine motifs.
Games like “Fish Toss” or “Pin the Tail on the Dolphin” will keep young guests entertained. To make the day even more special, provide party favors like sea creature toys or ocean stickers as tokens of fun. This unforgettable ocean-themed birthday party will leave lasting memories, celebrating your child's special day with laughter, joy, and a splash of creativity!
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#Camping Hiking Gifts#Outdoor Gifts#Adventure Gifts#Camper Hiker Gifts#Nature Gifts#Ocean Birthday Party#6th Birthday Ocean#Under the Sea Party#Mermaid Birthday#Beach Birthday#Fishing Gifts#Angler Gifts#Fisherman Gifts#View all AUTISM GIFTS products: https://zizzlez.com/trending-topics/hobbies/autism-spectrum-awareness-month/#All products of the store: https://zizzlez.com/
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hey anyone feeling silly and restless and wants to teach me how to fish
#we got some fishing poles at the thrift store#but I haven't fished since I was like 10#I need an old duffer to take me under his wing#or better yet#a really rad lesbian#but I'm not picky#also looking for a good camping instructor#In return I'll show you how to cook a bangin' fuckin meal#or I can show you how to hand wash clothes with a washboard#or the traditional route and I'll buy the beer#my local hardware store sells sarsaparilla will you show me how to fish for some sarsaparilla
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Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Matchmaker Merle
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/56ce9c77065a503fd3c14771b62c7aad/b8c912afa9ca8c96-fa/s540x810/30d6be5cbac71652de0f0cd90455815eb2483812.jpg)
Warnings: slight drug use, mentions of Lori, Daryl is a virgin, Shane being Shane, No use of Y/N, unprotected sex
Summary: Merle tries to get Daryl laid with an old family friend. Apparently, Merle is a master matchmaker? Buildup to smut.
Notes: Sorry for having the buildup so slow, I'm really bad at porn without at least a LITTLE plot lmao
You were allowed a little leeway your first day at camp. Glenn had found you, confused and lost, covered in dirt and blood after the bombs had gone off and separated you from your friends and family. You were on the highway, like everyone else, but as soon as they saw the city being lit up, all hell broke loose. They started acting like animals. Running and screaming, looting. The dead coming back to life didn't help much either.
On your second day, you were expected to start pitching in. You didn't mind helping, it was the way Shane approached you that rubbed you the wrong way. You offered to help hunt, fish, and go out looking for supplies, but he just laughed at you. He laughed like you were a child asking for a gun. He handed you a brush and sat you down beside Carol, who was washing clothes at the bottom of the quarry.
You found comfort in familiarity. Which came in the form of something extremely unexpected, Merle Dixon. Maybe it was because you'd seen each other a few times at the corner store back near where you lived, maybe it was the fact he had respect for your folks, but when you were taken back to camp he didn't treat you the way he treated the other women.
He wasn't respectful or chivalrous by any means, but he didn't treat you like a piece of meat. He didn't constantly try to get in your pants or speak to you in that slimy demeaning way he had with Andrea or Amy. You were grateful for it, even if you did catch him staring at your ass more than once, because he was the one thing that made you feel a little more at home with the group.
You'd never met his brother before. You'd seen him once, at the small mechanic shop near the corner store you'd occasionally see Merle in. Rednecks were anything but rare where you grew up, but something about Daryl felt different. He was quieter, more of Merle's shadow than his own person. But you knew just by looking at him that he was anything but somebody's shadow.
He saw you on your second day, after you'd done your morning “chores” and went to sit next to the campfire. He was carving something, maybe a bolt for his crossbow, and he barely looked up when you sat down across from him.
Daryl looked up again, a spark of recognition in his eyes. His voice, strong and firm, called your name as if it was a question.
“Yes?” You could see the exact moment the realization clicked that he did in fact remember you.
He didn't know much about you at all. He knew Merle knew your folks, and you lived pretty close, but he'd never actually spoken to you before.
He did like to watch you, though, you'd always go into the corner store next to the mechanic shop and buy a coke and a bag of chips at lunch. He thought you were the prettiest woman he'd ever seen. Merle had a different set of words he'd prefer to use for you, but Daryl thought they felt too nasty. You weren't white trash, you were pretty, out of place, and the words ‘hot piece of ass' just didn't fit you.
“Shit. Didn't think it was you when they said your name yesterday.” His fingers absentmindedly rubbed the length of his stick, looking over you a few times as he tongued the inside of his cheek in thought. “Huh. You seen Merle yet?”
“Yeah, I got here yesterday morning.” You answered, the day before Daryl had been gone most of the day hunting. By the time he got back you were already in your new tent, something that Glenn had made sure to pick up when he brought you back to his group.
“What happened? Your folks alright?” He asked, knowing it was strange for you to be here without your family and friends.
“I have no idea. Don't remember much. We were real close to the city when the bombs went off, all I remember is fire and screaming and I woke up in the back of a gas station.”
He nodded again, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he listened.
Daryl wanted to stay with you, talk for a while, having a familiar face made him feel like less of an outsider. But from the corner of his eye he saw Shane with his hands on his hips in that stupid pose he liked to do when he was about to give someone attitude. Daryl looked back to you and gathered his crossbow and bolts, muttering a quick excuse about needing to go hunt and that he'd see you around. He couldn't stand Shane, he'd only known him for a few weeks, give or take, and he was doing everything he could to avoid the wife fucker.
Shane gave you a talking to that evening, warning you about the “backwoods rednecks”, even though you knew it wasn't out of the kindness of his heart. It was just another way to control the people in his camp, something he got off on doing. He didn't trust either of the Dixon brothers, that was for certain, but going out of his way to ‘warn’ you? It took everything in you to just nod and say okay.
“When you gonna tap that, baby brother?” Merle's voice and the way he said it made Daryl cringe. He needed to do a better job about not staring at you so blatantly.
“Not my type.” Daryl lied through his teeth, picking another strip of stringy squirrel meat from the stick he'd used to roast it over the fire.
The Dixon brothers usually had a smaller, separate fire away from the main groups. It was mostly Merle's idea, he'd tell Daryl ‘they're not like us, keep your distance, we're just redneck trash to them.’. Not that Daryl gave a shit. He mostly thought the same anyways.
You were at the group fire, sitting beside Andrea and Amy, who were busy chattering about how they wished they could catch some fish instead of surviving off tree rats and canned peas. You didn't mind it, even though you preferred larger game, meat was meat. You ate your squirrel like it was a gourmet dinner, something Daryl took note of.
“Not your type? Hah! That's bullshit and we both know it. She's everybody's type, boy, you better get on that before someone else does.”
Daryl wasn't sure who Merle was referring to. Glenn could barely speak to women, T-Dog was far too respectful, Shane was so far up Lori’s ass he had shit in his ears. (That's so gross I'm so sorry)
The sound of harsh sniffing had Daryl looking away from you and back to his brother. He wiped the white residue from his nose and offered Daryl his large knife, containing another line.
“Nah. I'm good.” Daryl waved him off, not feeling like being on uppers around all these people. Made his temper even shorter than it already was. “Careful with that shit, if Shane sees-”
“He ain't gonna do shit about it. I'd like to see him say somethin’.” The fact Merle was always looking for an excuse to butt heads had Daryl on edge. “Take it, and go take her off in the woods before I do.”
It never took too much demanding from Merle before Daryl would give in. It was a fatal flaw in his character. He looked up to him and whatever he said went, even when he didn't really want to. So he took the coke and worked up the nerves to talk to you.
You'd just finished washing everyone's stupid dirty dishes and went into the woods to piss when you saw Daryl again. You gasped as you walked around the tree you'd used for cover and saw him walking through the treeline, worried he'd seen you. But he was too focused on his steps, and that put you at ease.
You walked up the half-assed trail to meet him, not feeling like chatting next to your pee puddle.
“Hey, you going hunting?” You asked, slipping your hands in your shorts pockets.
He shook his head as he reached you, snatching a stray stick out of his hair. “Goin’ down to some of the old shops down the road. Tired of all these canned peas. You comin’?”
You eagerly nodded, happy to be away from the group. They were nice enough, but since you normally hung around Merle, they treated you as someone they didn't fully trust. Especially Lori, Shane and Dale. The amount of times you caught Lori staring daggers into you every time you were within ten feet of Carl was starting to drive you insane.
“Been wanting to get out and do something for days. Can't fucking stand Shane's micromanaging.” You said as you walked, wishing you would've known you'd be going on an impromptu supply run. You only had your knife, you'd prefer to have your Ruger your father had given you. It was in the RV, where Shane had taken it to ‘clean’. You were more than suspicious that he just didn't want you carrying a gun around camp.
Daryl snorted. “Yeah. Can't stand that asshole. What kinda man-” He stopped himself, shaking his head.
“What?” You looked over at him, careful not to trip on the multiple storm blown branches from the larger trees.
“Nothin’. Just don't like ‘em.”
You were silent for a few minutes as you thought of something to say. You know, in apocalypse type situations, you mainly think about securing your next meal, how to not get killed in your sleep, how to protect your friends and family. But here you were, trying to think of what to say to a man you were steadily growing attracted to. You always thought he was cute before this, but seeing how capable he was, how he was so sure of himself, it was a side to him you didn't expect. It was like he was one of those people always secretly hoping for an excuse to go live in the woods and live in anarchy.
“How attached are you to this group?” He asked, catching you off guard.
“Not at all. Can't stand most of them. Why?”
“Just thinkin’ about leavin’. Don't belong here with these people. Lori screamed at a damn snake the other day and got the kids all riled up.” He had a visible look of distaste on his face. Of all things to scream your head off at in an apocalypse, wildlife wasn't on your list.
“Are you asking me to come?” You asked, unsuccessfully attempting to hide your excitement. The idea of splitting off with the Dixon brothers seemed your best bet, even if Merle was, well, Merle. You knew you were probably one of the only women on earth that didn't have to worry about him constantly trying to get in your pants. What you didn't know though, was that he was trying his damnedest to get his little brother laid, even if you were the daughter of a family friend.
“Yeah. You don't belong here either.” You didn't know if it was true or not, but it felt true to you.
“Sure. As long as I'm not gonna be a burden, or anything.” You knew you'd need to rely on the two of them for protection and some food, at least until you got used to your new life. You adapted fairly quickly.
“Wouldn't’ve asked if you were.”
“Alright, well, if you make up your mind, let me know.”
You arrived at the first store, a small gas station much like the one the two of you used to frequent back then. It was fairly untouched, but you knew it wouldn't be that way for long.
You broke into a bag of jerky, thankful it was Daryl with you and not anyone else. If someone gave you a speech on taking care of the group before yourself you might just take off on your own without Daryl.
He scored a bunch of chips, some cup noodles, and a 6 pack of beer for Merle.
Instead of going back like you'd originally planned, you talked each other into going further off down the road to an old Dollar General. You stored your stash in a hollowed out log next to the road so you wouldn't need to carry it the entire time and carried on.
“This was a great idea.” Your tongue was stained red from sour patch kids, you went through five bags and gave Daryl the greens and yellows.
Daryl licked the sour crystals from his fingertips and grunted in agreement, tossing the empty bag over his shoulder off the roof that the two of you had gone up to to indulge in your spoils.
You laid on your back and sighed, surrounded by empty snack bags and wrappers. “Fuck. I needed this.” Neither of you cringed at your corny comment, because although a cliche, you really, really did need this.
Daryl hadn't eaten much besides the gummies, thanks to being pressured into taking the coke by Merle. He cursed himself for it, wishing he had the nerve to just say no and stick with it.
He glanced over at you, your body orange in the light of the setting sun. You still wore those cute short Bobbie Brooks shorts he'd always seen you wearing around town. His eyes drifted to your legs and he let out a soft exhale, wishing he was as silver tongued as he thought his brother was. Even if the ladies rarely appreciated Merle's filthy flirting, he had to admit his one liners were pretty impressive sometimes.
You opened your eyes and used your hand as a shield from the sun to look at him. You'd barely caught him staring at your legs, and felt a smile tug at your lips.
“You wanna fool around?” You half joked, prepared to laugh if he turned you down. But the look on his face told you he really, really didn't want to turn you down.
He froze for a moment, his eyes looking anywhere but you, his heart hammering against his chest. His thoughts ran frantic, from Merle telling him to have sex with you, and to you, who he was terrified to have sex with. He was suddenly very grateful for the coke he'd taken, and it clicked in his mind why Merle had been so insistent on him taking it. He knew he wouldn't last three minutes without it.
“You serious?” He asked, his brows knitted tightly together from the sun and in concentration as he read your face.
“Yeah, why not?” You shrugged, sitting upright so you didn't have to keep squinting up at him. You looked cool on the outside, but on the inside you were barely holding it together. You'd never thought of Daryl this way before, given you'd only seen him once before all this, but now that you were, it felt like you were about to potentially have sex with the hottest man on earth.
“Uh, yeah, I guess.”
Awkward was an understatement. Daryl didn't know what to do with his hands. His dick had been hard off and on the whole trip with you, despite the coke. He didn't know what would feel good to you, something he found himself oddly concerned with. His only experience with women was watching them getting fucked in porn, so he tried it that way.
Your eyes widened in surprise when he quickly turned and leaned over you, his hands slipping up your shirt. He choked out a gasp, looking down at the outline of his hands as he squeezed your tits. You were caught off guard by his sudden boldness, and the way he was roughly groping your chest wasn't helping. You grimaced, about to tell him to ease up, but he caught your mouth in an unexpected kiss before you could speak.
You were way too horny to care about how messy his kissing was. Truthfully, it was pretty hot, filled with so much desire and lust that it didn't matter he was inexperienced. The fact he was this eager just because of you had you moaning into his mouth.
He took that as a sign he was doing something right and rolled your nipples between his fingers, doing what felt right. He pinched them, making you gasp against his lips, and he couldn't hide the crooked grin from his face. He pulled back just long enough to start unbuttoning your shirt.
You took over for him, not wanting him to get impatient and rip off one of your only good shirts. When his eyes landed on your chest he whimpered, he fucking whimpered! You groaned at the sound and pulled him back against you by his shoulders, sinking your head into the crook of his neck to kiss the skin there.
He hadn't expected you to do anything to him. In the videos he watched, most of the time the dude just rips her clothes off and fucks her in different positions for half an hour while she screams and moans like she's hurt. He hated that sound, the over exaggerated noises, he much preferred the noises you made.
You laid down on your back, grateful the sun had sunk below the tips of the trees so it wasn't so bright anymore. He was on you in a second, now kissing your neck, eager to give you the same pleasure you were making him feel. The moan that rumbled in your chest made his heart jump, knowing he was doing something right.
“God, s’so good.” You exhaled lazily, your eyes closing as he used his knee to kick your thighs apart for his waist. He quickly ground against you, a stifled groan stuck in his throat at the feeling of friction.
“Take ‘em off.” He demanded, tugging impatiently at your shorts before he went to unbuckle his belt. You happily obliged, unbuttoning your shorts and dragging them down your thighs.
When Daryl saw your lacy red panties he shivered. At camp, most of the underwear he saw hanging up were more… practical? The women had quickly changed their lace panties and thongs for boy shorts, but here you were, the skin around your hips indented obscenely from the way they hugged you like magic.
“Fuck.” He exhaled deeply, his forehead resting against yours as he looked down at your body under his. He was really, really glad Merle gave him coke. Just the sight of you mostly naked under him had his cock throbbing painfully.
He finished with his pants, only pulling them down enough to drag his leaking dick out, his jaw dropping when he saw you shimmying out of your panties. His head spun, his mouth watered, and before he could even think he was scooting down to plant his face between your legs.
You gasped, your head falling back against the rough flooring of the roof. He was so eager., so heartbreakingly eager to please you, it had your pussy so wet it was almost unbearable. His hot tongue was sloppy, inaccurate, it couldn't decide where it wanted to be. He'd be licking broad stripes one second, and the next he was swirling it around your clit. You were beginning to think maybe he wasn't as inexperienced as you believed.
Daryl learned all he knew about sex from porn. If there was one thing he was fascinated about, it was giving head. One of the first things he always wanted to do was eat out a woman. He never thought it would be someone as hot as you.
He tried everything he knew that made the women in videos moan, and to his surprise, you moaned the most when he kept it simple and just sucked your clit. So he did that, hollowing out his cheeks and sucking it into his mouth to roll his tongue around.
You were in shambles. You tried desperately to pull at his hair, but it was too short to grab so you settled on sinking your nails into his scalp as you rolled your hips against his face and tried not to be so loud.
Your jaw dropped and your eyes squeezed shut when he dug his tongue into the side of your clit, dragging your orgasm out so unexpectedly that you gasped.
“Fuck, oh, oh god!” You sputtered, your thighs squeezing his head to hold him there as you came, your back arching and your toes curling so hard your foot almost cramped up.
Daryl slipped his hand under him and grabbed his cock, stroking it as he felt your body tremble and jerk under him. He was sure this was a dream, he'd wake up any second in his tent with Merle snoring beside him and you all the way across camp. He squeezed his dick, milking the precum from his tip as your thighs finally relaxed.
“My god. You're really good at that.” You panted, your eyes blurry as you watched him slide up your body and take its place on top of you.
He grinned, knowing you were unintentionally starting to give him an ego. “Yeah?” He racked his brain for dirty talk, but since it was fried from making you cum, all he could come up with was “I got somethin’ I'm even better at.” Complete lie.
You, on the other hand, had no idea he was a virgin, and grinned widely at the implications, shifting your body up till you felt his heavy cock graze against your inner thigh. The feeling alone sent a bolt through your body, and your chest heaved with deep excited breaths.
He leaned up and grabbed your shoulder, signaling for you to turn over. You didn't question it and rolled over, propping yourself on your hands and knees.
The sight of you from behind had him falling apart. He let out a quiet whimper and bit his bottom lip before grabbing his cock and scooting forward to push it against you.
“Jesus, so fuckin wet.” He breathed, his heart beating so loud he could hear the blood in his ears. He slid his dick between your folds, going through all the steps in his head that he'd seen countless times. He even slapped it against your pussy a few times, missing the amused expression on your face, and pushed himself into you.
What Daryl didn't learn from porn was that usually, you go in slow when someone hasn't had sex recently. So when he just pushed his dick inside you with no hesitation you cried out, the burn from the unprepared stretching making you jolt forward. He grabbed your hips to bring you back against him, his jaw going slack as he felt your hot wet walls squeezing the life out of him.
“Fuck!” You spat, the burning and stabbing pain almost enough to turn you off completely. “You gotta be slower than that, Daryl.”
He was too deep to process what you said. He finally let out the breath he'd been holding with a deep, guttural groan, still frozen inside you. “Sah-Sorry.” He sputtered, his hands squeezing your hips so hard you knew for a fact there'd be ten little light purple bruises there tomorrow.
Before you could say or do anything else he started moving, setting the pace quickly, snapping his hips against your ass so roughly your hands almost slipped out from under you. The uncomfortable stretch quickly faded into a deep, primal pleasure, and soon you were letting out short moans with every thrust of his hips.
You barely got used to the feeling before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked it back, drawing a cry from your throat. You weren't expecting this from Daryl, he was so confident, so rough, it confused you but drove you absolutely wild at the same time.
His other hand kept its tight grip on your hip, pulling you back to meet each of his demanding thrusts, making sure his dick went as deep as possible each time. The way you were moaning and gasping fueled him to fuck you rougher, wanting to hear every sound that you were possible of making.
“Dirty little whore.” He grunted, his jaw aching from how hard he'd been clenching his teeth.
His words earned a strangled whimper from you, making his lips curl up in a cocky grin.
He fucked you for a while like that, hips pounding against your ass so hard that the noises of your skin slapping was making your cheeks burn in embarrassed arousal. So much for keeping it quiet.
“Hey-” The words were hard to get out from his aggressive thrusts, especially now that he was hunched over your body so he could squeeze your breasts. “I- wanna turn over.”
He raised his chest from your back and took the opportunity to catch his breath while you shifted under him to roll over on your back. The look on your face made him shudder with a quiet gasp. Your face was tinted a light red, blissed out, your pupils blown and hair all messed up around your face. He was back on you immediately, kissing you hungrily as he slipped his cock back inside you, much easier this time.
“Y’feel so fuckin’ good.” He breathed against your lips, wet from his sloppy kisses, and he kissed down your jaw to your neck. His accent was much thicker when he was inside you, barely pronouncing any words fully anymore.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, and your legs around his waist, angling your hips up so he could drive his cock deeper into you. The new feeling made him moan pathetically into your neck, and he had to stifle the noises he didn't like with a bite to the skin where your neck met shoulder.
The pressure of his teeth had your eyes rolling back in your head. There was so much stimulation, his dick driving relentlessly into your throbbing pussy, his fingers pinching your nipple and the other hand in your hair, pulling your head to the side to give him better access to your neck. A particularly deep thrust made you cry out, and you felt yourself nearing your second orgasm.
“Fuck!” You whined, your eyes squeezing tightly shut as you felt the tension building in your core as he fucked his dick into you.
“That's it, y’gonna come for me?” His teeth drew away from your red neck, a string of spit connecting the two of you.
All you could muster was an obscene “Mhmm!”, your thighs squeezing him tight around the waist.
“C'mon girl.” His words were choppy from the force of his thrusts. He slowed for a second, readjusting himself before building back up to his former quick pace, each thrust sending your body scooting a little upwards along the floor of the roof. You were incredibly thankful it wasn't concrete.
“Lemme hear it, c'mon.” His words alone were enough to send you falling over your edge. Your jaw dropped, your head tilting back as your back arched under his heavy body, and his arm slipped under you to hold your chest tight against his.
The look on your face and the feeling of you cumming around his dick was all he needed. His face went slack and he let out a shameful whine, something he'd never heard himself make before, and came inside you. Neither of you noticed, too fucked out of your minds to even process it.
You cried under him, twisting and squirming, impaled on his dick as your orgasm shook you to your core. Only when the final waves rolled off you did you relax, your eyes struggling to open as your breathing slowed.
Daryl raised his face from your chest and looked down at you, enjoying the look on your face as he regained his bearings. He ran his hands up and down your torso a few times, his eyes appreciating every little red mark on your neck and chest from his teeth.
Only when the last jolts of pleasure left his body did he realize he came inside you.
“Shit.” He grunted as he slowly drug his dick out of you, his breath catching in his throat when he saw the way his cum oozed out between your slick, puffy folds.
“Hmm, ‘s fine.” You mumbled lazily, reaching up to push your hair from your face. “We're on top of a Dollar General. We'll get the morning after pill.”
He nodded at your words, still hypnotized by the sight of his cum leaking out of you. A deep part of him wanted to stuff his dick back in you and keep it in, he didn't know why, but the idea was so hot he could've gone for a round two if you wanted.
“We better get back.” You struggled to prop yourself up on your elbows, your weakened muscles protesting. The sun was well below the trees now, and if you got back when it was dark you knew Shane would throw a goddamn hissy fit.
“We ain't gotta.” He half joked, a lazy grin on his face. “Can just stay here. Go back in the mornin’.”
You smiled, shaking your head, even though the idea was incredibly tempting. “Shane will kill us.”
“Fuck him.”
“I don't wanna piss him off when he's the one in possession of my gun right now.” Your words had him raising his brows and nodding in agreement.
The two of you put your clothes back on and went through the back entrance, grabbing all your bags and making sure to pick up some morning after pills from the locked shelf behind the front desk. You caught him trying to discreetly grab some condoms, not knowing you saw, and you felt excitement bubble in your chest at the prospect of him expecting this to happen again.
Thankfully Shane wasn't in camp when you snuck back in. He was down by the quarry, catching frogs or some shit, and you were able to share your spoils with the group before he came to ask questions.
“Well, shit. Look at you.” Merle was smiling ear to ear, clapping Daryl on the back after he went to his brother's tent with a bag of goodies.
It was extremely obvious what the two of you had done. Your hair was still messy despite you brushing it with your fingers on the way back, your face pink, your neck red. You were climbing into your own tent as Merle watched you from across camp.
Daryl's neck and face were also red, and he had a few scratch marks on the back of his neck.
And his fly was still down.
“Shut up.” Daryl shrugged his brother's hand off him, opening a bag of Funyuns.
“My baby brothers no longer a fuckin’ loser!” He laughed, giving a wolf whistle before playfully ruffling his hair. “Atta boy. I told you.”
“Ya’ ain't tell me shit.” Daryl grumbled, stuffing Funyuns in his mouth to hide the smile that was creeping onto his face.
“Hey.”
“What?” Daryl groaned, exasperated already.
“Think she’ll give me a ride?”
“Shut the hell up, man.”
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x reader smut#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon fanfiction#twd daryl dixon#twd daryl#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon twd#twd x reader#twd fanfiction#6060requests#6060asks#the walking dead fanfic#daryl dixon the walking dead#the walking dead#the walking dead daryl#the walking dead daryl dixon#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead x reader#daryl x reader#daryl fanfiction#daryl twd#daryl dixon season 2#daryl#the waking dead#daryl dixion imagine#twd
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I just looked Outside and realized the only thing missing was YOU, with lots of new gear of course!
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e7c4256aeba1eba6e286b6592c2999d9/e0734afbd7aa156a-e6/s540x810/5fe9f11b127057acd48ff85f26134c6f460d888c.jpg)
#https://amazingoutdoorworld.com .#If we don’t have what you need save time and clicks#just jump on our Amazon Affiliate link. Under the menu button on our store site or use this link.#https://amzn.to/3iITW0M#Your privacy is assured and if you have an Amazon Account it will link right to your home page.#AD#Sponsored#AmazonAffiliate#Archery#Camping#Fishing#Health#Hiking#Hunting#Kayaking#Shooting#Survival#Prepping#Bugout
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Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.
Hot Daddy
Prompt Day 23: Hot Chocolate | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Mild Use of "Daddy" | Tags: AU, Meet Cute, Single Dad Steve, Platonic Stobin
"Hot chocolate?"
Eddie's startled from his thoughts, looking to see where the unexpected question came from. He wasn't paying attention to his surroundings, off in his own world, as Wayne would say. Well, he says that, and that Eddie's lucky he doesn't accidentally walk into traffic.
Which, true. It has happened a time or two. But what Wayne doesn't know won't hurt him.
Locating the voice that had spoken is interesting, because Eddie was not expecting to look down, or expecting a hot man next to a table full of little girls clearing running a fundraiser. There's a little girl looking up at him expectantly, and she must have been the one that asked.
Hot guy's hand is resting on her shoulder protectively, and she must be his daughter, since she's his little doppelganger.
The guy is eyeing him, and Eddie knows he looks scarier than he actually is, so he smiles, trying to look less intimidating. At least the girl isn't scared of him, it seems. Not his tattoos, not his piercings, not his heavy leather and attitude.
"Hi, sir!" She says, all chipper, like it isn't freezing cold, "We're selling hot chocolate and cookies to help pay for camp."
It's a script, and a little stilted, but she's got the spirit, that's for sure. And he hasn't been called sir in, well, ever, maybe.
"Of course," he says, and shifts his duffle bag to his other arm so he can reach for his wallet.
The little handwritten sign has their pricing, which he is certain is too low, and he fishes out a ten dollar bill, handing it over.
"Keep the change," he says, and the girls squeal and jump up and down.
The man finally grins, like Eddie's won him over, just a little.
Suddenly, there's several girls wanting to be involved in the translation, handing him a sack of cookies, napkins, as hot dad pours hot chocolate out of a stainless steel dispenser.
"Marshmallows?" he asks, and Eddie grins.
"You know it."
He shakes some into Eddie's cup, then a few more as he meets Eddie's eyes and winks, then hands it over.
"Thank you," Eddie says, and he could look into those golden eyes all day. He'd love to see them in the daylight. He bets they are so warm.
"Thanks for supporting the cause," the pretty-eyed hot dad says, and Eddie takes one more long look at him before walking away.
It's good hot chocolate and great cookies. He's impressed.
The table isn't there the next night, or the few after, and Eddie feels a little bummed out that he missed his opportunity to flirt a little, feel him out.
He wasn't wearing a ring.
Eddie's certain of that. He looked. He also knows no ring isn't the end all and be all, some people just don't wear them, but no ring means that he might have had a chance. And a chance is all he needs.
So, he was hoping they'd be back now that it is the weekend again, but no luck.
"Why so mopey?" Robin asks, and Eddie turns to look at her.
"I saw a guy on the sidewalk, and I hoped he'd be back on the street corner tonight–"
"Eddie!"
"–but maybe it was just a weekend thing?" Eddie ponders.
"Eddie, are you trying to hire a prostitute?" she asks, eyes huge.
"What? No!" He throws back his head and laughs, "He was a perfectly respectable man! With a little girl!"
She raises an eyebrow.
"His daughter!"
Eddie's just digging a deeper and deeper hole as she laughs at him.
"I'm not following," she says, leaning on the counter of the music store. She started about two months ago, and so far, he likes her.
"There was a booth of kids doing a fundraiser. The dad that was supervising was hot."
She laughs at him, but it doesn't seem mean. Then her face changes, "When was this? What'd he look like?"
"Last Friday. Good hair. My height? I don't know. A real pretty dude."
"Swoopy hair?" she asks.
"What's swoopy hair?" he asks, and she makes a motion with her hands, and well, maybe?
"Yeah, maybe," he says, as if the image of this guy hasn't been burned into his retinas.
Then, he really hears what she's been asking:
"Robin. Robin Buckley. Do you know hot daddy?"
"Ew, no. Never say that to me again."
"Sorry," he mutters, feeling chided.
"Steve–" she starts, and he really, really doesn't want to hear about her Bobbsey Twin of a best friend Steve right now. He feels like he knows more about Steve than he knows about Robin, which is crazy for someone he's never met.
"Robin. No more Steve stories," he says, resting his forehead against the counter, banging it slightly.
Steve's a teacher. Steve's a coach. Steve played sports in college. Steve could have gone pro. Steve's a single dad. Steve's the best.
Steve, Steve, Steve.
He doesn't have the brainpower to deal with the Legend of Steve right now.
"Eddie–"
"Robin!" he interrupts.
"Fine. Don't let me talk," she says, crossing her arms over her chest.
And it's finally, blissfully, silent. At least for a few minutes.
Eddie's behind the counter when the bell over the door jingles. He looks up, and – hot daddy.
Robin elbows him in the ribs, "I told you never to say that again!"
"I didn't know I did!" he yelps.
She laughs, "Steve, this is Eddie. Eddie, this is Steve."
"You're Steve?" Eddie asks, and he knows his cheeks are red.
"The one and only," Steve says, and Eddie really wishes he'd paid better attention when Robin talked about him now. If wishes were horses, indeed.
Steve's holding two to-go cups, and leans up against the counter, handing one over to Eddie, not Robin.
Eddie takes it, dumbly. It's hot chocolate, and Eddie looks down at it:
555-0083 Call me Hot Daddy
Steve winks, and turns and walks back out.
Eddie's gonna kill Robin.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! ☕
Notes: Punctuation is important, Steve. Should Eddie call you on the phone - or call you hot daddy. Decisions, decisions. Why not both? 🤣
#steddieholidaydrabbles#prompt: hot chocolate#steddie#steddie ficlet#eddie munson#steve harrington#steve x eddie#steddie fan fic#platonic stobin#robin buckley#steddie fic#stranger things#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles
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Good Neighbours: Chapter 3
previous chapter
Uncle Ray had been talking non-stop about something while you ate your breakfast, the sound of his animated voice filling the kitchen. You nodded occasionally, only half-listening as you focused on your plate.
Between bites of toast, you caught snippets about fishing gear, tents, and the best spots to pitch a campsite.
Last week he’d managed to convince you to spend the weekend camping by the lake—a prospect you weren’t exactly thrilled about.
But how could you say no? Ray had been nothing but kind to you, letting you stay with him while you figured out work and life.
A sudden knock at the door interrupted his monologue. "One sec," he said, setting his mug down and heading toward the front door.
You took the moment of quiet to exhale, picking at the crust of your toast. Then you heard it—Ray’s familiar greeting, but it was the name that made you freeze.
"Joel!"
Your heart skipped, and your cheeks burned as the memory of your last encounter came rushing back.
The towel. The awkwardness.
The fact that you’d practically fled the house afterward, muttering to Sarah about feeling sick, just to avoid seeing him again.
Now, here he was, just on the other side of the door.
Your ears strained as their conversation carried into the kitchen.
"You and Sarah decide to come camping with us?" Ray asked, his voice chipper.
Your head whipped toward the door. Camping? Joel?
"Nah," Joel replied, his voice as steady and smooth as ever. "Sarah’s got somethin’ on this weekend, but I’m free if you’ll have me."
Your stomach flipped. He’s coming?
"Perfect!" Ray said with enthusiasm. "I’ll send you the details, alright? Gonna be a good time—just like old times."
You stared down at your plate, your appetite suddenly vanishing as you tried to process this new development.
The thought of spending an entire weekend with Joel—tents, campfires, and all—made your pulse quicken in ways you weren’t sure you wanted to unpack.
Ray returned to the kitchen, grinning as he clapped his hands together. "Well, that’s settled! Joel’s joining us for the weekend."
"Great," you said, your voice higher than intended. You cleared your throat, willing your cheeks to cool. "Should be… fun."
Ray didn’t notice your sudden shift in demeanor, too busy rattling off plans for the trip.
But as you sat there, nodding absentmindedly, you couldn’t help but wonder how you were going to survive the weekend with Joel Miller in such close quarters.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
"Alright, we got…" Ray trailed off, listing a seemingly endless checklist of items as you stood by his truck, Joel beside you.
Joel had greeted you earlier, his tone warm and sweet as always, but you’d been quieter than usual, offering only a shy smile in return.
The memory of your last encounter still lingered in your mind, making it harder to meet his gaze without your cheeks warming.
Ray suddenly stopped mid-sentence, his expression twisting into one of realization. "Shit," he muttered, looking up abruptly.
Both you and Joel turned to him, eyebrows raised.
"What?" Joel asked, his voice calm but curious.
Ray scratched the back of his head, his brow furrowed. "Forgot the tent stakes."
Joel glanced toward the truck, then back to Ray. "I can run to the store and grab some."
"Nah," Ray said, shaking his head. "Got plenty at the shop. Just slipped my mind."
He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully before snapping his fingers. "I gotta swing by there anyway—got somethin’ to sort out real quick. Y’all go on ahead."
"Wait, what?" you said, blinking at him in surprise.
Ray waved a hand as if to brush off your concern. “You go with Joel. I’ll be right behind you. No sense in all of us sittin’ around when you can get there a bit ahead and start settin’ up.” He was already moving. “It’s a two-person job anyway.”
Your mouth opened to protest, but before you could say anything, Joel turned to you with an easy shrug.
"Sounds good to me," he said, his gaze steady as it met yours, a flicker of amusement playing at the corner of his lips when he noticed your expression.
You glanced between the two of them, feeling cornered. "Yeah, okay," you finally said, forcing a smile you hoped wasn’t too strained. "That’s fine."
"Perfect," Ray said, clapping his hands. "I’ll be right on your heels’."
Joel gave a small nod, tossing his keys into his palm as he motioned toward the truck. "C’mon," he said, his voice steady but carrying a teasing undertone that made your stomach flip.
As you turned, his hand tapped lightly against your lower back—not firm, but just enough to nudge you forward, a playful gesture that felt oddly intimate.
"Chop chop," he added, his tone carrying a smirk you didn’t need to see to feel.
Your steps faltered slightly, the unexpected touch making heat creep up your neck. "Alright, I’m moving," you muttered, trying to sound unbothered even as your pulse quickened.
As you climbed into the passenger seat, the realization of the situation hit you fully.
It was going to be just you and Joel, alone in the truck, heading to the campsite together.
And by the way he settled into the driver’s seat, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he adjusted the mirrors, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t entirely oblivious to the tension humming between you.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
The truck rumbled steadily along the open road, the low growl of the engine blending with the soft twang of an old country song drifting from the radio.
The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow across the rolling landscape, the light spilling through the windows in soft streaks.
Joel’s hands rested easily on the steering wheel, his fingers tapping absently to the rhythm of the music, the motion so unintentional yet somehow captivating.
You tried to focus on the scenery, letting your eyes trace the endless stretch of fields and trees as they blurred past. Or you pretended to scroll aimlessly on your phone, though your grip tightened every time the silence between you stretched a little too long.
About thirty minutes in, Joel glanced over at you, his lips curving into a faint smirk. "You always this quiet, sweetheart?"
You blinked, caught off guard, and quickly turned your head toward him. "What?"
"Been sittin’ here, waitin’ for you to say somethin’," he teased, his voice low and smooth, like he had all the time in the world. "Thought you might’ve fallen asleep on me."
"I—no, I’m just…" You trailed off, fumbling for a decent response under the weight of his gaze. "Taking in the view."
Joel chuckled softly, the sound warm and a little too knowing. "Uh-huh. That what you’re doin’? Seems to me like you’re avoidin’ lookin’ at me."
"I am not," you huffed, crossing your arms tightly over your chest, your voice carrying a hint of frustration—though more at yourself than at him.
Joel glanced over at you, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Hmm," he drawled, his tone laced with amusement. "Seems to me like you ran off the other day."
You blushed remembering the compromising position you had been caught in.
Is he seriously bringing this up?!
"I didn’t run off," you said quickly, shifting in your seat. "I just… wasn’t feeling well."
"Is that right?" he murmured, his tone dripping with skepticism. He turned his eyes back to the road, but you didn’t miss the way his lips quirked, like he was fighting back a grin.
"Poor baby," he cooed, his voice dipping lower, soft and teasing.
You froze, your eyes trained on the car window, a scarlet tinge painting your cheeks.
"Or maybe," he continued, his tone slow and deliberate, "you just got a little… embarrassed."
Your head whipped back toward him, your brows furrowing. "What? Why would I be embarrassed?"
Joel shrugged, the movement casual, but there was nothing casual about the way his eyes flicked over to you, sharp and knowing.
"I dunno," he said, feigning innocence. "Could’ve been the whole ‘caught-you-in-a-towel, dripping-all-over-my-kitchen-floor’ thing."
Your mouth dropped open, heat rushing to your face as you struggled to find a retort. "I—" you stammered, but nothing coherent came out.
Joel’s smirk deepened, and he gave a soft chuckle that was as maddening as it was alluring.
"C’mon now," he teased, his voice low and warm. "Ain’t nothin’ to be shy about, darlin’. Just thought it was funny how quick you bolted."
"I didn’t bolt," you snapped, though your voice was weak, your embarrassment only fueling his amusement.
Joel shook his head, his grin softening into something quieter, more thoughtful.
"Well, for what it’s worth," he said, his voice steady now, "I was makin’ pancakes for ya. Thought you might’ve stuck around long enough to try ‘em."
You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. The teasing edge was still there, but it was gentler now, almost like he was giving you an out.
Joel glanced at you again, his eyes warm but still glinting with mischief.
"Guess I’ll have to make ‘em for ya another time," he said.
Then, with a smirk that made your heart trip over itself, he added, "But next time, maybe try not to run off. Deal?"
You bit your lip, torn between mortification and the flicker of something lighter in your chest. "Deal," you muttered, your cheeks still burning as you turned back to the window.
Joel chuckled softly, the sound warm and low, curling through the air like it was meant just for you. It tugged at the corner of your mouth, and despite yourself, you couldn’t help but smile—just a little.
“Plus,” he said, taking a slow glance in the rearview mirror before shifting his gaze to you, “you’re pretty cute when you’re flustered.”
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
When you arrived at the campsite, the sight before you made you stop in your tracks. You weren’t much of a nature girl—that much was certain.
Cities had always been your preference, with their buzzing energy, brunch spots, and chic rooftop bars. But this… this was something else.
The lake stretched out like a sheet of glass, its surface catching the blue of the sky above. Surrounding it were towering trees that seemed to stand guard, their branches swaying softly as their leaves whispered secrets to the wind. The ground was a tapestry of earth and scattered pine needles, dappled with shadows from the sunlight breaking through the canopy above.
The air was cool and crisp, brushing against your skin with the kind of freshness you didn’t realize you’d been craving. It carried the subtle, grounding scents of pine and damp earth, mingling with the faint, refreshing tang of lake water.
Somewhere in the distance, the soft chirp of crickets began to fill the quiet, a sound that seemed to amplify the stillness.
“Wow,” you murmured, unable to tear your eyes away.
Joel was already unloading the truck, you couldn’t help but glance over, your eyes catching on the way his broad shoulders shifted as he lifted a heavy pack from the bed.
The fabric of his t-shirt stretched across his back, damp in places where the heat of the day had taken its toll, clinging in a way that left little to the imagination.
His arms flexed as he slung the pack over one shoulder, the muscles in his forearms tightening as he adjusted the straps with practiced ease.
His hair was messy, a little damp from the heat, and as he wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, you couldn’t help but notice the way his lips parted, exhaling a quiet sigh.
"You just gonna stand there or give me a hand?" Joel teased, his voice breaking through your thoughts.
You blinked, heat rising to your cheeks as you scrambled to grab one of the bags. "Right. Sorry."
The two of you worked together to set up camp, Joel guiding you through the process with surprising patience. His voice was steady as he explained how to secure the tent, his hands brushing yours once or twice as he passed you supplies.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, you were both seated on a log overlooking the lake, the golden-orange light reflecting off the water like fire.
You pulled your knees to your chest, your gaze fixed on the horizon. "This is beautiful," you said softly, almost to yourself.
Joel turned his head toward you, a small smile playing at his lips. "Yeah," he murmured. "It is."
You glanced at him and caught the way his eyes lingered—not on the lake, but on you. Your breath hitched, and you quickly looked away, feeling a blush creep up your neck.
"You come here often?" you asked, desperate to fill the silence.
Joel nodded, his smile turning wistful. “Used to. Sarah’s mom and I came here a lot when she was little,” he said, taking a swig of his beer he rummaged from the cooler earlier. “Sarah loved it out here.”
The mention of Sarah’s mom made you pause.
You hesitated, debating whether to ask the question lingering in your mind.
It felt like prying, but you couldn’t help yourself. "Is she… still in the picture?"
Joel’s expression shifted, the warmth in his eyes dimming just slightly.
He let out a quiet sigh, his gaze falling to the water. "No," he said simply, his voice low. "She, uh… found someone else when Sarah was about 8. Took off, never looked back."
Your heart clenched at the weight of his words. "Joel," you said softly, turning to face him. "I’m so sorry."
He shook his head, a faint, almost bitter smile tugging at his lips.
"Don’t be. Was a long time ago." He exhaled, his gaze far away now. "It’s just… you don’t forget, y’know? Even when you think you’re past it, some things stick with you."
You knew exactly what he meant—your own memories filled with pain, sorrow, and heartbreak.
You didn’t know what to say, so you reached out, letting your hand rest lightly on his forearm. His eyes flicked to yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved.
"You’ve done a hell of a job with Sarah," you said gently, your voice steady despite the emotions threatening to rise. "She’s amazing. That’s all you."
Joel’s smile softened, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Thanks sweetheart’," he said quietly, the sincerity in his voice making your chest tighten.
Joel shifted beside you, his gaze fixed on the fading sunset, but there was a tension in his posture, a quiet hesitance that made your heart beat just a little faster.
After a moment, he spoke, his voice low and rough, like he’d been turning the words over in his mind.
“So, uh… you got a boyfriend or somethin’?” he asked quickly, following the question with another swig of his beer.
The question hung in the air, the weight of it surprising you. He didn’t look at you right away, his focus still on the water, but the way his fingers tapped lightly against his thigh betrayed his nerves. It almost sounded like it hurt him to ask.
You blinked, caught off guard. "Um, no. Not really." you said shaking your head at the thought of your ex.
Joel’s head tilted slightly, his eyebrows raising as he finally glanced at you. "Not really?" he repeated, his tone teasing but his expression curious. "Never heard of a relationship status like that before."
You laughed softly, bumping him lightly with your shoulder. "Shut up. You know what I mean."
His lips quirked into a small smile, and he leaned back slightly, his arm brushing against yours. "Well, I don’t. Enlighten me."
You hesitated, fiddling with the edge of your shirt as you tried to find the right words. "Before I moved here, I, uh… I had a boyfriend. But, um…" You trailed off, your gaze dropping to your lap.
Joel straightened a bit, his brows furrowing. "But what?" he prompted gently, his voice softer now.
"He cheated on me," you said finally, the words tumbling out quickly, like you wanted to get them over with.
Joel let out a sharp breath, his jaw tightening. "Shit," he muttered, the word carrying a quiet anger that made your chest ache.
"Yeah," you said, shrugging lightly. "So, guess that makes me single."
Joel nodded slowly, his gaze drifting back to the lake, but his silence felt heavy, like he was holding something back.
The quiet stretched between you until he spoke again, his voice low and deliberate.
"Stupid," he said, almost to himself shaking his head slightly.
You blinked, turning to look at him. "What?"
He met your eyes then, his expression unreadable but his gaze intense, like he was searching for something in your face.
"He’s stupid," Joel said, his voice firm, rough around the edges. "For lettin’ you go." He paused, swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as if the words had cost him something.
"For hurtin’ you like that."
The weight of his words settling heavily in the space between you.
The implication of it all—the care, the quiet anger, the way his voice seemed to carry something he wasn’t ready to say aloud—made your chest tighten and your head spin.
You blinked, caught in the haze of the moment, your breath hitching as his gaze bore into you.
There was something raw in the way he looked at you, something unspoken but unmistakable, and it made your heart race in a way you couldn’t explain.
His eyes dropped, lingering on your lips for a moment too long, and your heart stuttered in your chest. That’s when you realized how close you’d both leaned in, the space between you barely a breath now.
The world seemed to slow, the rustling of the trees and distant hum of the lake fading into the background as his gaze flicked back to yours, dark and searching.
Was he about to kiss you?
The thought sent a rush of warmth through you, your breath catching in your throat as you stayed perfectly still, afraid that even the smallest movement might break the spell.
But before anything could happen the bright sweep of car headlights cut through the twilight, lighting up the campsite like a sudden flare.
Joel blinked, his jaw tightening as he tore his gaze from yours and pulled back, glancing over his shoulder at the approaching truck.
"Hey, kids!" Uncle Ray called as he climbed out of the truck, his cheerful tone breaking the spell entirely.
Joel leaned back slightly, the moment slipping through your fingers, but his eyes flicked back to you for just a second longer, holding something you couldn’t quite name before he turned away completely.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
The fire crackled softly, its warm glow casting flickering shadows across the campsite as you sat quietly, listening to Joel and Ray talk.
Their conversation drifted between sports, old stories, and small-town gossip, but your mind wandered, the distant rustle of the lake’s waves blending into the comforting hum of their voices.
You rested your chin on your palm, idly toying with the s'mores—the one indulgence you'd packed yourself for this trip.
The flames danced before you, casting flickering shadows across the campsite, and for a moment, you couldn’t help but wish Sarah were here with you.
As much as you appreciated the stillness of the evening, the crackling fire, and the quiet, her energy—her easy, unfiltered laughter—would’ve been a welcome distraction. Anything to drown out the thoughts swirling endlessly in your head, thoughts you couldn’t seem to shake, no matter how hard you tried.
You took a small bite, the sticky marshmallow clinging to your fingers as you gazed into the flames, trying to ground yourself in the moment.
You yawned, covering your mouth with your hand, trying to be subtle about it.
But Joel noticed—of course, he noticed. His eyes flicked to you, and the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, soft and almost imperceptible.
She’s so damn cute, he thought, his chest tightening as he watched you across the fire.
You sat there with your knees tucked up, eyes heavy with sleep as you nibbled absentmindedly on your s'more, the firelight casting a warm glow on your face.
He let the moment linger, committing the image to memory—your sleepy gaze, the way the marshmallow stuck to the corner of your lip before you brushed it away.
Joel wasn’t one for sentimentality, but something about this, about you like this, hit him square in the chest.
And now, as much as Joel loved Ray, he couldn’t help the thought creeping into his head - Will he ever stop talking?
Joel’s attention kept slipping, his focus torn between Ray’s stories and the way your face looked in the flickering glow of the firelight.
The soft shadows danced across your features, and he found himself studying the curve of your cheek, the way your lashes rested lightly against your skin when you blinked.
You looked peaceful, and yet, there was always something behind your eyes—something quiet, something he wanted to understand.
He wanted to sit closer to you, feel the warmth of your presence just a little more intimately. He wanted to hold you like he had that other night, your body pressed against his, as if in that moment he could protect you from the things you didn’t say aloud.
He wanted to ask you about your life—about the things that made you smile, the things that weighed you down.
Joel swallowed hard, dragging his eyes back to the fire, trying to steady himself. But no matter how much he tried to focus on Ray’s words, his thoughts kept circling back to you.
It was frustrating, almost infuriating, how effortlessly you seemed to have carved out a space in his mind, a place he wasn’t sure he was ready to give, yet couldn’t seem to stop offering.
As if on cue, Ray let out a quiet groan, patting his stomach. "Whew, ate too much," he muttered under his breath before pushing himself to his feet. "I’m gonna call it a night. Thanks for settin’ up the tents, you two."
He turned to you, smiling warmly. "Bright and early tomorrow, kid. Got a full day planned."
You gave him a thumbs-up, your lips curving into a small smile. "Good night, Ray."
"Alright, good night, kid. Night, Joel," Ray called out as he made his way to his tent, the soft sound of the zipper pulling closed signaling his exit.
Now, it was just you and Joel, the fire flickering between you in the quiet stillness of the night.
Joel stood then, the movement drawing your gaze. For a fleeting moment, you thought he might be heading to bed, leaving you alone by the fire. A quiet pang of disappointment tugged at your chest, one you didn’t quite understand.
But instead, he stepped around the flames, his boots crunching softly against the earth, and lowered himself onto the log beside you.
The quiet weight of his presence settled warmly at your side, close enough that you could feel the faint brush of his arm against yours.
"Hi," he said softly, his voice low and quiet, like it was meant just for you.
"Hi," you replied, your voice just as soft, your lips curving into a small, shy smile.
"You gonna make me one of those?" he asked, nodding toward the s’more in your hand, his voice low and teasing. "
A laugh escaped you, light and soft as you tore your eyes away from him, reaching for the ingredients. "Only if you say please," you quipped, trying to keep your voice steady despite the warmth rising in your chest.
Joel huffed out a chuckle, leaning back slightly and crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Please," he drawled, the word slow and deliberate, laced with just enough sarcasm to make you roll your eyes.
"Alright, alright," you muttered, assembling the s’more with shaky hands as you felt his gaze on you. It was infuriating how much you could feel his presence, how aware you were of every slight shift of his weight, every flicker of firelight dancing across his features.
When you finally handed it to him, his fingers brushed against yours, rough and warm, lingering for just a second too long.
He didn’t say anything at first, just took a bite, his eyes closing briefly as a satisfied hum rumbled in his chest.
"Good?" you asked, unable to hide the small grin creeping onto your face.
Joel opened his eyes, glancing at you with that familiar smirk. "Damn good," he said, his voice soft but still laced with that teasing edge.
But then his gaze shifted, his smirk fading into something quieter, more intense.
He looked at you now the way he had while you both sat by the lake—the same look that had made your breath catch, the same look that had made you think, for one charged moment, that he might kiss you.
He leaned forward slightly, his hand coming up to cup your face so casually it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
You froze, your heart hammering in your chest as his thumb brushed across your bottom lip, wiping away something you hadn’t even realized was there.
"You got some," he murmured, his voice low, rough around the edges.
Your mind spun, your words failing you. "Oh," you said, dumbly, your breath hitching as his thumb lingered just a moment longer than necessary.
"Some chocolate," he clarified, his lips twitching in amusement at your reaction. His hand dropped, but not before he licked his thumb, tasting the chocolate he’d just wiped from your lip.
It was intimate—so much more than it should’ve been. The warmth of his touch lingered, the rough pad of his thumb still ghosting against your skin, and it had your cheeks blazing, heat spreading through you like wildfire.
You couldn’t look away, your gaze locked on his as your mind raced, struggling to process the charged moment that had just unfolded between you.
"There," he said, his tone soft but edged with a faint smugness. "All clean."
"Thanks," you said again, your voice barely above a murmur, feeling completely thrown off balance.
You stumbled over your words as you stood, nervously brushing off your hands. "I should—I should get to bed. Like Uncle Ray said—uh, big day tomorrow."
Joel tilted his head, the faintest glimmer of amusement dancing in his eyes as he looked up at you. That same quiet confidence was back, the one that made your stomach flutter in ways you wished it wouldn’t.
"Sweet dreams, sweetheart," he said, his voice low and warm, the words rolling off his tongue like a secret just for you.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
You lay in your tent, staring up at the dark fabric above you, every creak of the trees and gust of wind outside making your heart race.
Why did no one ever tell you how scary camping was? you thought, pulling the sleeping bag tighter around you.
Your mind reeled, replaying every horror movie you’d ever seen—axe murderers, wild animals, supernatural monsters. It was all crowding your thoughts, the darkness outside feeling heavier with every passing second.
“Shit,” you muttered, sitting up abruptly, your pulse hammering in your chest. At this rate, you weren’t going to get a wink of sleep.
Then you heard it. A twig snapping just outside your tent. Your breath hitched as you froze, every muscle tensing.
That’s it. You couldn’t do this anymore.
Without another thought, you bolted out of your tent, your bare feet crunching softly against the forest floor as you made a beeline for Joel’s tent, flashlight in hand.
The rational part of your brain told you to turn around, that this was ridiculous, but the panic gripping your chest had you unzipping his tent before you could second-guess yourself.
Inside, Joel lay on his side, his broad shoulders rising and falling steadily with each breath, his face softened in sleep. The sight should’ve calmed you, but your panic was still bubbling just under the surface.
"Fuck," you muttered under your breath, hesitating for a moment.
You didn’t want to wake him—this is ridiculous, you thought—but the howl of the wind outside made your nerves spike again.
"Joel," you whispered, your voice barely audible.
He didn’t stir. His breathing stayed even, his face relaxed.
"Joel," you tried again, this time a little louder, leaning down and giving his leg a small shake. His brow furrowed slightly, but his eyes stayed shut.
"Joel," you hissed, shaking his leg a little harder now.
He groaned softly, shifting onto his back as his eyes cracked open, squinting at you in the dim light.
His voice was rough with sleep, low and gravelly as he mumbled, "What…? What’s goin’ on, honey?"
"I—" You hesitated, suddenly feeling absurdly childish standing there in your pajamas, barefoot and anxious.
What were you, five years old?
Joel sat up slowly, running a hand over his face to wake himself up. His brows furrowed, concern softening his features as his eyes locked on yours. "What’s wrong, darlin’?" he asked, his voice gentler now. "You alright?"
Your chest tightened, and you swallowed hard, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. "I—I’m scared," you admitted finally, your voice small. "I can’t sleep. The wind, the noises outside, it’s just…" You trailed off, feeling the words catch in your throat.
Joel’s expression softened further, his eyes scanning your face. He didn’t laugh or tease; he didn’t make you feel silly for being afraid. Instead, he shifted to make space beside him, his hand patting the empty spot.
"Come here," he said softly.
You blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
"Come here," he repeated, his tone so gentle it made your chest ache. "Ain’t no reason for you to stay awake all night alone and scared like this. Get in here."
"I—" You hesitated, glancing at the small space and then back at him.
His eyes held yours, unwavering and soft, like he could see straight through your hesitation.
"It’s alright. C’mere," he murmured, shifting slightly as he stretched out his arm, creating a perfect space for you to slip into.
The gesture was so natural, so effortless, that it nearly took your breath away. His arm, strong and steady, formed a kind of haven, one that felt both safe and oddly intimate.
You hesitated, your heart racing as you stared at the spot he’d made for you.
"C’mon, darlin’," he coaxed gently, his voice dipping just enough to feel like a quiet promise. "Ain’t no need to be scared. I got you."
The sincerity in his tone broke through your hesitation.
Slowly, tentatively, you moved toward him, settling into the space he’d made for you. His arm draped around your shoulders, pulling you close in a way that was firm yet incredibly gentle, like he’d done it a thousand times before.
This should’ve felt strange—you were pressed up against your neighbor, for god’s sake. But it didn’t. Somehow, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. You tried to justify it to yourself—he was just helping you out, that’s all. But like this? In a way that felt so intimate, so unspoken?
"There," he said softly, his voice a warm murmur against the quiet of the night. "Ain’t nothin’ gonna bother you now. I’ll make sure of it."
You felt the tension in your body begin to melt as you rested your head against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing grounding you in a way that nothing else had all night.
The sound of the wind and the creaks outside faded into the background, replaced by the soft, rhythmic thud of his heartbeat.
"I know it’s silly. I’m sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you knew he heard it.
Joel’s arm tightened ever so slightly around you, his hand brushing a soft, reassuring circle against your shoulder.
"Don’t apologize," he murmured, his voice low and steady, like the words were meant to wrap around you as much as his touch did.
His eyes closed, his breath evening out as he rested his head back against the pillow. "Just sleep, darlin’," he added softly, the warmth in his tone settling something deep inside you.
The way he said it, so sure, so unbothered, made your chest ache in the sweetest way. You nodded against him, your cheek brushing lightly against his chest, and let his steady heartbeat guide you toward rest.
Joel was right here, holding you like it was the most natural thing in the world—and for the first time in what felt like forever, it was enough.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
Joel woke to the soft weight of you curled against him, your arm draped across his torso, your face tucked against his chest. His breath hitched as he took in the sight of you—peaceful, unguarded, your lips parted in a soft pout, your quiet snores barely audible above the faint rustle of the wind outside.
His stomach twisted, a mix of warmth and something far more dangerous. What the hell was he doing? Twice now he’d woken up with you wrapped around him, and both times it had unraveled something in him he’d been trying so hard to keep tightly wound.
Joel’s eyes drifted over your face, the soft curve of your cheek, the way your hair fell in loose strands against your skin. You looked so damn comfortable, like you belonged there, and that thought alone was enough to stir something deep in his chest—a quiet ache that he wasn’t sure he wanted to name.
He sighed quietly, his hand resting loosely on your back as he stared up at the ceiling. This is the second time, he thought, his jaw tightening. Second time I’ve woken up like this.
He knew better. He should know better. This—whatever this was—it couldn’t happen. He was old enough, wise enough to keep his distance, to stop himself before it got to this point.
But here you were, soft and warm against him, and no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, he couldn’t seem to stay away.
His fingers twitched against your back, the warmth of your body seeping into him like you were something he hadn’t realized he’d been missing.
And that was the problem, wasn’t it? You felt too good, too easy, too right.
Joel let out a slow breath, his chest rising and falling gently under your weight. He should move—wake you, untangle himself—but he didn’t. Instead, he let his hand linger, the quiet intimacy of the moment too tempting to let go of just yet.
As the first light of dawn crept through the tent, Joel knew he was stuck—stuck in this limbo with you, caught somewhere between what he wanted and what he knew he shouldn’t have.
But for now, just for a moment, he let himself stay, because being wrapped up in you felt like the one thing he couldn’t bring himself to walk away from.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
You trailed behind Ray and Joel as the three of you hiked up the winding trail, the morning sun filtering through the canopy of trees above.
The air was cool, but the steady incline was enough to leave you breathless, your legs burning with every step. You were grateful Joel had gotten out of the tent first that morning, leaving before Ray could see the two of you together like that. You weren’t sure how you’d explain that—not that anything had happened, but still.
Joel walked ahead of you, his broad shoulders stretching the fabric of his shirt, the material damp with sweat that clung to his back. The sheen on his arms caught the light as he carried the pack effortlessly, his movements steady and unbothered, like the hike was a stroll through the park. You couldn’t help but notice how good he looked—how natural he seemed out here, in his element.
"You alright back there, Miss Chicago?" Joel called over his shoulder, his voice carrying easily over the rustle of leaves and crunch of boots against dirt.
You gave him a look, narrowing your eyes as you panted. "Fuck you," you huffed under your breath, though it lacked bite.
You were a lot of things at the moment—sweaty, tired, slightly annoyed—but you weren’t going to let Joel know how winded you actually were.
Joel’s grin was quick and teasing, his eyes glinting as he slowed his pace just slightly.
"I’m fine," you huffed, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. "Don’t worry about me, Miller. I’m hot on your heels."
Joel turned fully this time, his gaze dropping to meet yours, and for a moment, you thought he might actually say something encouraging.
Instead, his lips curved into a smirk as he glanced back to make sure Ray was still ahead of him. Then, his eyes flicked back to you, and he leaned in slightly, mouthing, "Definitely hot."
He finished it with a quick wink, the teasing glint in his eyes making your stomach flip.
Your cheeks burned, and you looked away quickly, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling. "You’re ridiculous," you muttered under your breath, though you knew he’d caught the blush spreading across your face.
Joel chuckled softly, turning back to the trail as if nothing had happened, but the faint curve of his smile stayed firmly in place.
You followed behind him, your heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the steep incline.
Your mind lingered on his words, definitely hot, playing them over like a loop you couldn’t quite shut off. Should you read into it? Probably not. But then again, waking up tangled together in his tent that morning wasn’t exactly nothing.
Something was there—you felt it every time he looked at you, every time his teasing remarks left you flustered.
Still, just because you were both single didn’t mean it was more than some harmless, shameless flirting. Right?
You didn’t have much time to dwell on it as you finally arrived at your destination. Ray let out a satisfied sigh, shrugging off his pack as he took in the view. "Looks the same as the first time I got here," he said, his voice warm with nostalgia.
The lake stretched out before you, secluded and serene, surrounded by tall trees that swayed gently in the breeze. A tire swing hung from one of the branches, swaying lazily over the water’s edge. The sunlight danced across the surface, making it glimmer like something out of a postcard.
"Wow," you breathed, taking it all in.
"Worth the hike?" Joel’s voice came from beside you, low and teasing.
You turned to him, meeting his gaze, and smiled softly. "Definitely."
Ray didn’t waste a second. "I’m goin’ in!" he declared, pulling off his shirt with a laugh before running straight for the water. He launched himself in with an impressive cannonball, the splash sending ripples across the lake.
You laughed, shaking your head as he resurfaced, grinning ear to ear.
Joel leaned against a tree, his arms crossed casually as he watched you. "How about you?" he asked, his voice lighter now, but his eyes holding a flicker of something else.
Your mind flashed to his earlier comment, the one that had left your cheeks burning and your heart racing. Definitely hot. Maybe it was time to get back at him, just a little.
"Yeah," you said, feigning nonchalance. "Me too."
Before Joel could respond, you reached for the hem of your shirt and tugged it over your head, revealing the bikini you’d been wearing underneath.
Joel froze, his mouth opening slightly as if to say something, but no words came out. His eyes flicked down, then quickly back up to meet yours, and for a moment, you thought you saw his breath hitch.
You furrowed your brows innocently, tilting your head at him with a playful glint in your eyes. "What?" you asked, your voice light and teasing as you reached for the waistband of your shorts. With deliberate slowness, you shimmied them down, the movement undeniably purposeful, knowing full well he’d notice.
Joel’s gaze flicked toward you before he quickly averted it, his jaw tightening as you folded the shorts neatly and placed them on a nearby rock, your every move radiating nonchalance. The corners of your lips tugged into a small, mischievous smile as you caught the faintest hint of color rising to his cheeks.
Joel blinked, clearly trying to recalibrate. "Nothin’," he muttered, his voice rougher than usual as he dragged a hand over his jaw.
You smirked, pleased with the small victory, before turning and walking toward the water’s edge. You didn’t miss the way his gaze followed you, though he tried to play it cool by pretending to adjust his pack.
As you stepped into the water, the coolness refreshing against your skin, you turned back toward Joel, who was still standing there, his expression unreadable.
"You comin’ in?" you called, grinning at him.
Joel tilted his head, his lips curving into a slow smirk that sent a shiver down your spine.
"Yeah," he said finally, his voice steady. "I reckon I am."
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
You followed Joel up to the tire swing, the soft crunch of dirt under your feet mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves overhead. He stood by the swing, holding the rope steady, his grin easy and teasing. "C’mon," he urged, motioning for you to step closer. "Ain’t as scary as it looks."
Joel went first, gripping the old tire swing like it was second nature. He turned to glance at you, his eyes glinting with playful mischief. “Watch and learn, sweetheart,” he said with a wink, and before you could even roll your eyes, he pushed off.
He swung out effortlessly, his strong arms flexing as he held on, and for a moment, it looked like he was flying, the sunlight catching on the water droplets clinging to his skin. Then, with a whoop that was both boyish and entirely too charming, Joel let go, plunging into the lake with a splash that sent ripples all the way to the shore.
You couldn’t help but laugh, covering your mouth with your hand as he resurfaced a moment later, shaking water from his hair like a wet dog. He treaded water with an ease that made it seem like he belonged here, his grin wide and infectious as he tilted his head back to look at you.
“Alright, darlin’, your turn,” he called, his voice teasing but warm.
You stood by the swing, hands hovering over the rope as you hesitated. “I don’t know…” you muttered, glancing down at him.
Joel leaned back slightly, his arms moving lazily through the water to keep himself afloat, his movements effortless, almost hypnotic. His grin softened, melting into something gentler, more coaxing as his eyes locked on yours.
"C’mon," he murmured, his voice dipping lower, steadier, carrying a reassurance that made your chest tighten. "I won’t let ya get hurt, I promise."
You bit your lip, eyeing the swing skeptically. “I feel like I’m gonna look ridiculous,” you admitted, your cheeks heating.
Joel let out a soft laugh, his head tilting to the side as he watched you. “Darlin’, you couldn’t look ridiculous if you tried,” he said, his tone so genuine that it made your stomach flip. “Just grab on and let go. I’ll be right here.”
You glanced between him and the swing, nerves buzzing in your chest. “You better not laugh at me,” you warned, narrowing your eyes at him.
“Cross my heart,” Joel said, grinning as he made the motion across his chest. "I’m right here," he added, his voice low and steady.
That got you.
You shook your head, a small laugh escaping you as you grabbed the rope. With one deep breath, you pushed off, the swing carrying you out over the water as your stomach flipped wildly. For a moment, it was like flying, the wind rushing past you, and then you let go, landing in the lake with a splash.
When you resurfaced, gasping and laughing, Joel was already there, the water rippling softly around him as he swam closer. “You alright?” he asked, his voice low and warm, his smile utterly intoxicating.
“Yeah, that was fun,” you said between breaths, your laughter still bubbling up despite the water dripping down your face.
His grin widened, a flicker of pride lighting up his eyes. “See? I told you,” he said, his tone teasing but gentle. “You gotta trust me.”
You smiled back, the heat in your chest having nothing to do with the exercise. “I guess I do.”
“Mhm,” he murmured, his voice softer now, his eyes holding yours for just a second too long, the space between you charged and undeniable.
You drifted lazily in the lake, the water cool against your skin, but all you could feel was Joel. He was close, his presence magnetic, his movements slow and effortless as he treaded near you. The sunlight played off his damp skin, the lines of his face softer but no less handsome in the golden glow.
Your breath hitched when you felt his hands brush against your waist, his grip steady and grounding as he pulled you closer. Instinctively, your hands found his shoulders, your fingers curling against the firm muscles beneath his warm skin.
The water rippled around you, but all you could focus on was the way his eyes locked on yours, intense and unguarded, like he was seeing something no one else ever had.
“Joel,” you murmured, your voice soft, uncertain, though it wavered under the weight of the moment. “We should go back…” you muttered looking over your shoulder for any signs of Ray.
“Shh,” he interrupted gently, his voice low and soothing, a quiet command that wrapped around you like the current itself. The sound of it made you fall silent, your breath catching as his hands steadied you in the water.
One rested firmly on your waist, grounding you, while the other splayed across your lower back, keeping you close, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin in a way that made your pulse quicken.
“Just let me look at you,” he murmured, his words soft but heavy, like they carried more weight than he was willing to admit. His gaze roamed your face, lingering on your lips before meeting your eyes again, the intensity in them sending a flush of heat cascading through you.
You blushed deeply, your chest rising and falling as you tried to steady your breath under his gaze. The world around you seemed to fade, the water, the trees, the sky—all of it narrowing to just Joel.
He leaned in slowly, his eyes dipping to your lips, and your heart raced as you let your eyes flutter shut, anticipation coiling tight in your chest. His breath was warm against your skin, his grip firm yet gentle, and you swore you could feel the moment stretching endlessly between you.
"Are y’all still by the swing?" Ray’s cheerful voice called out, loud and oblivious, shattering the fragile spell between you.
Your eyes snapped open, and before you could think, you instinctively pulled back, the sudden movement sending a small splash of water between you.
Joel let out a low groan, his hand dragging through his wet hair in frustration as he turned slightly, shouting back, “Yeah! We’ll head your way!” His tone was steady, but the edge of irritation was impossible to miss.
You were already making your way toward the shore, your movements quick and deliberate, your back turned to him. The air felt heavier now, your heartbeat racing as you tried to steady yourself, to push away the lingering heat from the moment that had almost been.
“Alright!” Ray’s voice called again, carrying easily over the water.
Joel stayed where he was for a moment, watching you climb out, droplets of water trailing down your skin in the glow of the fading sunlight.
Shit, he thought, running a hand down his face, his chest tight with the ache of longing.
Every second he spent with you seemed to unravel him a little more, his desire for you growing into something he wasn’t sure he could contain.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
As you trudged down the trail toward the campsite, your eyes kept drifting to Joel’s broad back, his steady strides cutting effortlessly through the uneven terrain. Sure, you’d been drawn to him from the start, his rugged charm and shameless flirting throwing you off balance in ways you weren’t ready to admit.
But what had just happened at the lake—it felt different, like something had shifted. The memory of his touch, his gaze, lingered, warm and unsettling all at once.
A knot twisted in your stomach as the thought struck you: were you catching feelings for Joel?
The idea made your chest tighten, a mix of worry and something dangerously close to hope creeping in as you tried to shake it off.
As you continued down the path, your foot caught on something—maybe a root, maybe a loose rock—and suddenly you were falling. A sharp pain shot through your ankle as you hit the ground, your hands instinctively gripping at it. "Ah, shit!" you exclaimed, your voice tight with pain.
Within moments, Ray and Joel were at your side, their footsteps hurried and voices tinged with concern. "What happened?" Ray asked, his eyes scanning you anxiously.
You pushed yourself up slightly, your palms pressing into the dirt as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. The pain radiated like a hot wave from your ankle. "I think I—shit—I tripped over something," you muttered, your voice breaking slightly as the pain settled in.
Joel knelt beside you, his brows furrowed in focus. His gaze flicked to your face, softening when he saw the tears threatening to spill over. "I’m gonna press here, sweetheart," he said gently, his voice low and soothing. "You let me know if it hurts, alright?"
You nodded, biting your lip as he carefully pressed his fingers against the tender spot. A sharp hiss escaped you as the pain flared, and Joel pulled his hand back immediately, his jaw tightening.
"I don’t think she can walk down the rest," he said firmly, looking at Ray. "I’ll carry her."
"What?" you blurted, shaking your head despite the pain. "It’s not much further, Joel. I can—"
He cut you off with a soft but commanding tone. "It’s not much further, darlin’, but you’re not walkin’ on that until we get some ice on it. No arguments."
Ray hesitated. "You sure, Joel?"
Joel gave a small smirk, his confidence unwavering. "Piece of cake," he said, already reaching for your hand to help you up. He steadied you as you rose, your good leg bearing all your weight. His hand on your arm was firm, his touch grounding.
"Joel," you started, hesitating as embarrassment washed over you. "I might be too heavy—"
"Not a chance," he interrupted, his voice soft but resolute. "Now get on my back."
With a reluctant nod, you looped your arms around his shoulders as he crouched slightly. Joel’s hands found their place under your thighs as he lifted you effortlessly, as if you weighed nothing at all.
The trail back was mercifully smooth.
Joel carried you with a strength that felt almost unreal, his movements so steady and sure you barely felt the jostle of each step. The warmth of his back seeped through his shirt, an unspoken comfort that anchored you to the moment. Hesitant at first, you let your head come to rest against his shoulder, the fabric brushing against your cheek.
He walked as though your weight was nothing, his voice low and steady as he spoke to Ray. There wasn’t a single hitch in his breath, no sign of exertion, just the quiet cadence of his words blending with the crickets chirping softly in the underbrush.
"You doin’ okay back there?" Joel's voice rumbled, breaking the gentle silence. He tilted his head just enough to catch your gaze out of the corner of his eye.
"Yeah," you murmured, though your cheeks flared with a heat you couldn’t quite shake—a blend of gratitude and something softer, more vulnerable. "Thanks, Joel."
He answered with a low hum, the sound laced with a teasing edge. "Told ya—piece of cake. Almost forgot you were there."
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
By the time you reached the campsite, Joel set you down carefully, his hands lingering just long enough to make sure you were steady on your good leg.
He gave you a small, crooked smile, his eyes holding yours for a moment before his voice cut through the haze of your thoughts. "You alright?" he asked softly, his hand steadying you as he helped you hop over to one of the foldable chairs by the fire.
His grip was firm but careful, ensuring you didn’t put weight on your injured ankle. Once you were settled, he crouched down slightly, still eyeing you with that quiet intensity.
"Yeah," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "It’s not as bad right now."
"Good," he said, straightening up, his tone matter-of-fact but tinged with something softer. "I’ll be back with some ice and Tylenol, alright?"
You nodded, watching him as he turned and strode toward the supplies. Your heart was still racing, and not just from the pain. Joel had just carried you down that hike—effortlessly, like it was nothing.
The memory of his arms around you, solid and sure, sent heat rushing to your cheeks. He was strong—so much stronger than you’d expected, and the thought left you flustered.
You bit your lip, your gaze lingering on him longer than you meant to.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
That night, you sat quietly by the fire, the soft crackle of the flames filling the cool night air. The logs had burned low, their glow dimming to faint embers that flickered and cast dancing shadows against the surrounding trees.
Your ankle, now taped up, felt manageable—the ice and Tylenol doing just enough to take the edge off the pain so you could move on your own if needed.
Ray stretched out with a dramatic yawn, breaking the comfortable silence. "Welp," he muttered, patting his stomach in satisfaction, his tone thick with exhaustion. "Gonna call it a night. Early morning and all that." His movements were slow and unhurried as he ambled toward his tent, tossing a casual "Goodnight, kids," over his shoulder before ducking inside, the zip of the tent flap marking his retreat.
Silence settled over the campsite, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze and the fading pop of embers. Neither you nor Joel spoke at first. The weight of the moment pressed between you, thick and unspoken, as the firelight flickered across his face.
When Joel finally stood, the motion was slow and deliberate. He didn’t say anything, but the way he looked at you—steady, searching—made your chest tighten. He tilted his head ever so slightly, a subtle gesture toward his tent, his expression unreadable but his intent unmistakable.
Your heart fluttered, skipping a beat as you hesitated for only a moment before rising to follow him. The distance between the fire and his tent felt both impossibly short and agonizingly long, the quiet stretch of night amplifying every step you took.
Inside, it felt impossibly small, the air thick with the quiet intimacy that seemed to hang between you. Joel had already settled on his side, his arm resting under his head as he watched you crawl in, his gaze soft and inviting.
You lay beside him, the warmth of his body pulling you in like gravity. It felt so natural, so easy, as you nestled closer, your hand resting lightly against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your fingertips.
You didn’t even stop to question how strange this was—sharing a tent, practically cuddling with your neighbor, a man you’d met barely a week ago. But it wasn’t weird, right? This was because you were too scared to sleep in your own tent, wasn’t it?
He was just helping you out, being kind in his own quiet, steady way. That was all. Even if his arm was draped around you, pulling you close against his side, and his fingers were threading softly through your hair, lulling you into a calm you hadn’t felt in ages. Right?
“You’re warm,” you murmured, your voice soft and muffled slightly against his skin, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.
“Yeah?” Joel replied, his voice low and quiet, the sound of it wrapping around you like a blanket.
“Yeah,” you said, your eyes fluttering shut as his arm slid around you tighter, pulling you even closer.
Joel chuckled quietly, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, warm and soothing. “This better than last night, huh? No scary noises to worry about,” he said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips.
His fingers trailed absentmindedly up and down your arm, the motion gentle and rhythmic, sending a comforting warmth through you.
You smiled against him, the memory of your panic almost laughable now. “No scary noises,” you agreed softly. “No axe murderer waiting for me.”
Joel laughed then, a warm, genuine sound that made your heart flip. He glanced down at you, the corner of his mouth quirking up as your eyes met.
You grinned, your eyes glimmering with a soft, doe-like sheen, their glossy warmth catching the faint light and making you look impossibly endearing.
For a moment, everything felt weightless, suspended in the quiet intimacy of the tent. His gaze lingered on your face, tracing over your features as if committing them to memory, before dipping to your lips.
The air seemed to thicken, charged with an unspoken tension. His teasing smile softened, his expression shifting into something deeper, more serious. His lips parted, and he muttered under his breath, so quiet you almost didn’t catch it.
“Fuck.”
Your smile faded, replaced with a small furrow in your brow. “What’s wrong?” you asked, your voice tinged with worry. A small part of you panicked.
What if he regretted this? What if you’d crossed a line you couldn’t uncross?
“I—” Joel began, his voice catching as his gaze darted away for a brief, fleeting moment. He looked almost nervous, his lips pressing into a thin line before he let out a quiet sigh. “You do somethin’ to me. I—damn it, I don’t even know how to say it.”
Your breath hitched, your heart pounding as you stared up at him, searching his face for answers. His expression was a storm of emotion, raw and unguarded, and for the first time, he seemed almost vulnerable.
"In a good way?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper, your chest tightening at the way his eyes held yours. They were so steady, so sure, yet there was a fire in them that made your pulse race. His gaze flicked to your lips for a beat too long, like he was fighting a battle within himself.
"Yeah," he nodded, his voice soft but resolute. "A good way."
"Joel," you murmured, his name tumbling from your lips like a plea, unbidden, as though it was the only word you could find.
He swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as his thoughts raced. This might ruin everything, he told himself, but damn it, he needed you.
The way you looked at him, those soft, glossy eyes wide with uncertainty and longing, made it impossible to think straight. His gaze dropped to your lips again, this time lingering with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. It wasn’t just desire—it was something deeper, something raw and consuming.
He wanted you in a way that terrified him.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked finally, his voice low and tender, almost hesitant, as though he was offering you every chance to stop this, to pull away. The vulnerability in his tone made your chest ache, the weight of the moment pressing down on you.
"Kiss me," you breathed, the words spilling from your lips in a desperate rush, raw and unfiltered. You didn’t think—you couldn’t think. All you could feel was the tension crackling between you, the way his eyes burned into yours as though he was already memorizing every inch of you.
His lips were on yours in an instant, feverish and hungry, his hands cupping your face as if you were something precious yet utterly irresistible. His movements were urgent, almost frantic, yet there was a tenderness woven into the desperation, as though he was pouring every unspoken word, every pent-up feeling, into the kiss.
His calloused fingers brushed against your skin, the roughness a stark contrast to the softness of his lips. The texture grounded you, tethering you to the intensity of the moment.
You could feel the tension in his body, the way his hands trembled slightly against your jaw as he pulled you closer. His kiss was unrestrained, unrelenting, his lips parting to taste you more fully. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, a barely controlled hunger evident in the gesture, and a quiet, throaty sound escaped him—a mixture of longing and satisfaction.
It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a claiming, a confession, and a plea all at once.
When he finally pulled back, his breaths came shallow and uneven, . "I’ve wanted to do this for longer than I should admit," he murmured, his voice husky and raw. His thumb brushed softly over your cheek, but his eyes flickered, betraying the intensity still burning within him. His gaze darted to your lips, swollen from the force of his kiss, then back to your eyes, searching for some unspoken permission.
And then he leaned in again, his lips finding your neck this time, moving with an almost reckless need. His kisses were sloppy, open-mouthed, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as his teeth and tongue grazed your skin.
You gasped at the sensation, your fingers instinctively threading through his hair, holding him close as his lips lingered just below your jaw. He sucked lightly, enough to make your breath hitch, then harder, marking you in a way that sent a thrilling shiver down your spine. You knew you’d see the evidence of his hunger in the morning, and the thought made your heart race.
"Joel," you breathed, your voice trembling with need but steady in its conviction. His lips stilled against your skin, his head tilting to meet your gaze. The intensity in his eyes was overwhelming, stealing the air from your lungs as if he could see straight through to the ache building inside you.
"I want you," you admitted, the words spilling out before you could second-guess them.
It was almost embarrassing how easily this man unraveled you—how just one kiss, one touch, had set you alight. Your cheeks burned at the realization, but the need to feel him, to close the aching gap between you, overpowered any hesitation. Your voice was soft but unwavering, laced with the weight of everything unspoken yet so desperately felt.
You felt his breath hitch against your neck, a quiet exhale that sent a shiver down your spine. His grip on you tightened slightly, grounding you while tethering himself.
But he stopped you with a gentle shake of his head, his lips curving into a small, almost pained smile. A soft chuckle rumbled low in his chest, but it wasn’t mocking—it was tender, full of something unspoken yet profound.
"Shit, darlin'," he murmured, his voice low and warm, his hand still cradling your face as though you were something fragile. His thumb brushed against your cheek, the soothing touch making your chest tighten. "I want you too—more than you probably realize. But this…" He paused, his voice quieter now, steadier. "This ain’t how I wanna do it."
It took everything in him to stop. The way you whimpered his name, the way your eyes burned with unrestrained desire, had him teetering on the edge of his own resolve. Your soft, gasping breaths and the way your fingers clung to him ignited something primal, something he struggled to hold back. The tension in his body betrayed his words, the strain of his cock against his pants a glaring contradiction to the restraint he was forcing himself to maintain.
His eyes softened as his lips quirked into a small, apologetic smile. His hand moved gently, brushing a stray strand of hair back from your face. "You deserve better than… a tent on the floor," he said with a wry grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "When it happens—"
Your breath hitched at the weight of his words, the quiet certainty that hung in the air. "When?" you whispered, barely audible, your heart pounding in your chest.
Joel nodded, his thumb grazing your bottom lip in a way that sent shivers through you. His eyes held yours, steady and full of something that made your pulse race. "When," he repeated, his tone firm, leaving no room for doubt. "Gonna do this right. You deserve that."
"Okay," you whispered back, your voice soft, your chest aching with the intensity of the moment.
Joel leaned in slowly, pressing a kiss to your forehead, the touch warm and lingering, filled with a tenderness that made your eyes sting. "Now, go to bed," he murmured, his voice low and sweet, wrapping around you like a quiet command, like a promise.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
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GRANDDADDY ISSUES
I tried not to seem too eager, waiting in the living room. The Christmas tree was still up and various cookies and candy still out. Mom always went all out for the holidays, even if it was just the two of us.
Thing was, my mother was happy I was close to her father. Always had been and even more so since her divorce. Granddad Paul didn't live super close, but he made an effort to come visit at least once a month. Catching my lacrosse games, being there for my birthday each year, and just completing out the rump family Mom and I had. As a single mother, she held it together, props to her, but Granddad made it feel like a family.
Summers I'd spend a month with the man. He was a high school history teacher and football coach, and had down time to spend with me. I was 16 before I realized his appointed, or self-appointed role, was to be the father figure in my life. Teaching me guy stuff, man stuff. Fishing, camping, home repairs. Birds and the bees. Guy talk.
Of course Mom would freak out, and more, if she new Granddad Paul and I had fooled around the summer after high school. Testing the waters, then diving in. I thought I was confused sexually, but when Granddad went down on me, and sucked a healthy load from my 18 year old jock balls, I knew I wasn't confused one bit. I learned how to return the favor.
I heard him pull up, an old but reliable pick up truck. I looked out the window to watch him get out.
Granddad was the perfect man in my book. 5'10 and barrel chested, walking slightly bow legged like an overgrown jock, he strode up to the door, hands in his jeans pocket. He had on only jeans and gray sweatshirt emblazoned with the high school he'd coached at. He'd let his normal short hair cut grow out to a medium length, almost shaggy and fully gray.
"Killer!" he beamed when I opened the door. I could see the silvery stubble on his chin and smell his aftershave as he pulled me into a tight hug. I now knew how to return the bear clasp myself, patting Granddad's meaty back and feeling his cool cheek next to mine before we pulled back, matching smiles on our faces. Yeah, Granddad missed me, too. He gave a wink and patted my upper arm.
"Merry Christmas, Dad!" I heard my mom behind me. My cue to step aside.
"Linda!" Granddad said. "Merry Christmas." He greeted my mother with a gentler hug. "You're looking great," he said.
My mom had been taking care of herself lately. She had a new boyfriend, Gary, who'd come over for Christmas dinner. I suspected they were more serious than Mom let on, but she didn't want to push things too fast with me. Not that I cared.
For his part, Granddad always had Christmas dinner with my uncle and his family, who lived closer to him. So the day after was Christmas part two for us. Presents and an afternoon light dinner before I threw a couple of bags in the cab of his truck for the hour ride.
It was great this year. Mom was in a great mood, between the boyfriend, her recent promotion at work and my return from college. I did my best to help in the kitchen so should could have time with Granddad.
I'd bought Granddad a new electric shaver Mom said he wanted. The irony was clear to me when he opened it, his scruff fully evident. He even made a joke about it. "Guess it is time to get more presentable," he said.
He got Mom a gift card for the local department store. "You know I can't pick out what you want, Linda," he apologized.
"I'll make good use of it," she assured him, getting out of her chair to give him an affectionate hug.
I was blown away when I opened the small box for my present. There were two tickets to the upcoming Panthers game.
"Jesus, Granddad," I let out, then checked myself. Mom didn't like me to swear, though I didn't do any outright cussing.
He looked like he couldn't wait to read my reaction. "They're as much for me as for you, even if the Panthers aren't doing so hot this season," he said. "I figured it would give us something to do this week."
It was a week and a half I'd spend with the man, but who was counting?
We ended up hitting the road by mid afternoon. Granddad wanted to get us back before nighttime. On the ride it was a lot of catching up. Mostly me giving a monologue about my first freshman semester, what classes I was taking, and what I'd signed up for in Spring.
I could tell something was on Granddad Paul's mind. "You, um, talk to your dad, Drew?" he asked.
I nodded. "Yes, sir. we talked a little yesterday," I said in a flat tone. I didn't get along with my father. He was pretty absent and I had a lot of resentment.
Granddad looked over with a deep emotion and reached over to massage the back of my neck. It was affectionate and perfect. "I know it's tough, kiddo." Pulling his eyes back to the road he kept his hand there. The touch was getting me hard.
And as I looked over, taking in his weathered face and deepening wrinkles that framed his ruddy cheeks and roman nose, I was getting turned on for real now. I was wired for men, older men. Old men, really, though I was a low-key resentful that none of the men in the "mature" porn matched Granddad's hotness. He was well-preserved and yet clearly in his 60s. That combination was electric to me.
The man seemed to read my mind. "You know, Drew, we don't have to do anything this week. Anything you don't wanna."
I nodded. But my tone was upbeat, eager. "I wanna Granddad," I assured him. "It's kind of all Ive been thinking about the last few months."
"Is that right?" he chuckled. I felt his fingers tease the hair on the nape of my neck. "I figured Killer Stenson would have some fun to keep him occupied in college." Stenson was my Dad's last name, and mine too.
I spread my legs. I was officially bricked now. If Granddad had said HE didn't want to fool around, I didn't know what I would have done. I would have respected his wishes, and yet...
"No, sir. I guess I'm not wired for college guys, really," I said. It was a big admission, and one I'd rehearsed in my head for several weeks now. Turns out, Granddad Paul made me feel comfortable. It was all coming out easily now.
"And college girls?" he prompted.
"Not wired for girls at all, actually."
He nodded, taking it in. "You told your mother?"
I shook my head. "No, sir," I replied. "I haven't told anyone. Other than you."
"Well, it's no one's damn business if you don't want it to be."
We were getting close to Granddad's place and soon he removed his hand as he turned into the gravel driveway. He was a widower and when he'd retired, he'd bought a mountain cabin. We pulled up, and I got one bag, and Granddad the other. As we entered, I was reminded of the distinctly masculine space of the place. Wood paneling and woody-smoky scent from the fireplace. Framed photos of mountains and nature, a signed football jersey framed behind glass, and not much else for decoration.
Granddad could get in no-nonsense mode and already he was leading me back to the second bedroom, which was the guest room when I visited. "Everything is here for you, Drew," he said, setting down my bag.
I gave a quick look in. Basic bed with wool blanket rather than a duvet or comforter. I wanted to respect Granddad's space, but I had to take a chance.
"I was kinda hoping I could be in the master bedroom," I said, nervously looking into the man's blue eyes.
That caught him by surprise. We'd fooled around the previous summer, a lot actually, but it had felt very exploratory, a naughty new game for both of us. Maybe this was my way of ratcheting that game up. But I'd had almost four long months to imagine this visit.
Granddad was caught by surprise. "For real, Killer?" he asked, in that "are you sure?" tone. Then giving me a wink, he added, "I snore, you know."
"I don't give a fuck, Granddad," I said, emboldened by the fact he hadn't said no.
There was a look of lust on that handsome face of his, and Granddad closed the distance between us. I felt his breath and then the scruff of his stubble before our lips touched. A gentle peck, then I opened my mouth. Granddad has a thick tongue and I could feel it snake in between my lips.
Oh fuck, we were making out, and this felt different than before. Granddad pulling my body into his and me feeling up that strong body through his sweatshirt.
"Easy, Killer," he finally mumbled into my lips. "Soft kissin can be kind of hot, too."
And then Granddad showed me a new speed, a new technique. He was right, this was incredible, and amazingly the gentler approach was fueling my boner just as much.
I did grunt, though, as I felt Granddad's paw grip my crotch.
He had a big smile as he pulled back. "Let's take this to my bed, young man."
We made our way to the master bedroom and quickly stripped down. I loved how Granddad's eyes were on me the whole time. "You packed on some more muscle at school, stud?" he asked.
I nodded. "Yes, sir. Been hitting the weights hard," I added. I wasn't playing lacrosse at college, but I wanted to maintain and develop my jock body.
His eyes swept up and down my near nakedness. Appreciative, even as he got his lecturing tone. That Coach tone. "I hope you're doing it for yourself, Drew," he said. "Not for anyone else."
"I am, Granddad," I said with a slightly annoyed tone. Maybe he was right that my body issues and insecurities were driving my obsession with lifting and putting on muscle.
"Well, you're the kind of stud who makes me thankful I'm a man."
Then I watched Granddad slip off his underwear, showing off that full magnificent 65 year old body. Muscular but with some loose sag to the beef, that build was covered in a thick silvery fur trimmed evenly, at least until the darker bush, where gray pubic hairs grew longer and stray next to the brown ones. Granddad Paul's cock was just shy of 6 inches and cut and pretty thick, especially at the base. He'd confided to me that he took pills for a mild case of ED, and maybe he'd taken one that day, because his prick was sticking up hard.
"I'm thankful you're a man, too, Granddad," I joked, even as I slid off my boxers and showed my grandfather my erect dong. I wasn't as thick as him, but I had a good inch and a half in length on him.
"Goddamn," he hissed. I loved how the man let loose with the swearing when it was just us. Especially at times like this. He stepped up and reached down to gently stroke my hardon from base to tip. "OK if I suck this, Drew?"
I didn't know why he was being so coy, but then I realized he'd had four long months to imagine us having sex again. Anticipating. Not knowing where we'd pick off, or even if we would.
"Um, yeah, Granddad."
He looked up from my dick. "You know, my name is Paul."
"I know," I said. It felt weird being on a first name basis. The tone in my voice suggested I never would be.
That got a chuckle out of him. He hadn't let go of my cock, instead he slowly stroked it. Without lube it felt more of a tease motion rather than a jacking off pleasure. I loved it. "If you're game, there's some stuff I want to try this week," he said. A little nervousness was behind his mature experience.
"Yeah?" I asked excitedly. I reached forward to feel up his torso, feeling the thickness of his aged muscle.
He nodded. "You tried fucking yet, Killer?" he asked with a grin.
"No, sir," I said. "Been thinking about it, though. A lot."
That brought a smile to his face. "Your mother would kill me," he said.
"She's not gonna find out, sir," I assured him.
Granddad released my dick and then crouched down in front of me, His strong hands ran up and down my outer quads as he stared at my dick. "We're gonna have a lot of fun this week, aren't we, Killer?" he breathed.
"Yes, Granddad," I answered.
He leaned in some and skinned back my foreskin. "You know I'm not a big fan of your father, but I'll give him credit for leaving your skin intact."
I felt his tongue taste the tip then watched him open up and take me in. I still got a thrill from seeing this masculine man being so enthusiastic sucking dick. He didn't got slow either. Taking just a second to get used to me and my size, he began working me up and down with long steady mouth strokes. Twisting his head slightly and giving a gentle tug of my balls.
"Granddad!" I urged. My lock was loaded and my sexual response was far more primed than I expected. If Granddad kept it up, I wouldn't last long. I even gave a half hearted attempt to push his shoulders back, but he kept on me. I looked down on his almost entirely gray hair and his mature body. He was bobbing faster now, and sucking more fervently. "FUCK!" I gasped.
I heard the man choked down my heavy load in successive swallows. His moans around my spurting prick were deep and appreciative as he rode out my orgasm with his slowed down sucking.
"Goddamn, buddy," he finally said as he pulled back and wiped his chin. "That's one helluva load. Please tell me you have more in the tanks for later."
"Probably," I laughed, enjoying the way my dick stayed rigid after cumming so hard.
He took his time standing up. "Think I can feel you up for a bit?" he asked. Already he was climbing on to the bed and scooting over to the other side to pull out some lube.
I wasn't sure what he was wanting but I got in bed, too. He squirted a good deal of lube on his dick and started stroking before turning back to me. His free hand ran along my bare torso.
"You got a beautiful body, Killer," he said, openly massaging my chest and abs. I wasn't completely smooth but compared to him I was.
"Thank, Granddad," I said. "I love yours, too." I reached out and began to touch his furry chest.
"I'm old," he said with a laugh.
I looked into his eyes. "Don't take this the wrong way, Granddad, but I like em old."
"You into the daddies, Killer?" Granddad smiled.
"Older, even," I admitted. "A man has to be 60 before I notice him. I'm kind of messed up."
"Hardly, stud," he said. He took his hand and moved to touch and caress my chin. "I got a good bud like you."
I tried to pick up on the implications of what he was saying. Put two and two together. "A boyfriend?" I knew Granddad had gone mostly for men after Grandma died. Said he didn't think he was up for another traditional relationship and that there was too much lost time to make up.
"No," the man replied. "Just a deep friendship. He's married now, but craves a little coach time, you know?" I could tell he was hesitant to tell me about this.
"A former player?" I asked.
"That stays between you and me, Killer."
"Yes, sir." I ran my hand down, past his moving fist, to cup his balls. "I'm just glad you got someone looking after you, Granddad."
"Oh kiddo," he breathed, closing in the gap for another kiss. This was less soft than before but it was amazing. Real heavy making out as Granddad moved back to feeling my body as he jerked off. He had a slower sexual response but it didn't take him long. He pawed at my chest more aggressively as I felt the tension rise and release in his body. He grunted into my mouth and I felt his hot cum splash on my belly.
We embraced and held each other after our orgasms, making out some but also just feeling each other's bodies.
"So... the older man thing," Granddad said, breaking the silence. "How much of that is me?"
He asked the thing that had been on my mind. "Some of it. But I think if we hadn't fooled around, I would have found someone who reminded me of you."
That got a soft grunt from the man. I knew the words hit him in an emotional and sexual place. "Is that what we're doing, Killer? Just fooling around?" There was an edge to his voice, teasing yet sexual.
"Oh god, Granddad," I hissed. "I've been trying not to get ahead of myself."
He gave me a thoughtful look, his blue eyes set off by his gray hair and weathered face. "Well, we got all week to figure things out."
"Week and a half," I corrected.
Granddad smiled. "You serious about what I said earlier? About trying more?"
I felt his strong biceps, pumped beneath the looser skin. "I'm not very experienced, sir. But I wanna be. I want you to be the one to show me."
We kissed, soft again, super slow. I was hard but not eager to cum again, just enjoying the proximity to him. I could feel Granddad's cock plump out, too. It was dark out, pitch black dark, and we had only the light of the bedlamp. I had no idea what time it was, but my stomach rumbled.
That got his attention. He pulled back and looked me up and down. I had the feeling I was his Christmas present, more than the electric razor. "Let's get some food in you, buddy. And we can take our time with the rest, OK?"
I got up. Granddad handed me one of his T-shirts and a spare pair of sweats. I loved wearing his clothes, and I loved that he trusted me to start a fire in the fireplace while he made us some burgers. Granddad is particular about the fireplace being set up and lit the proper way.
Even if the meal was casual, washed down with cans of cold lager, it felt like the most special date night I could imagine.
Maybe I was a little too silent as I ate. Even when I was done, I sipped my beer and looked at Granddad Paul's handsomeness and felt like the luckiest man.
"What are you thinking, Drew?" he asked softly.
I blushed. "Just crushing out on you a little, sir. Sorry."
He shook his head. "Don't be sorry. I'm crushing out on you, too, buddy. More than a little."
I felt flush hot with desire and emotion now. I threw hard, I couldn't help. Granddad noticed and chuckled. "Just be patient with me, Killer, I'm an old man and don't have the sex drive I once did."
My turn to laugh. "You do just fine, sir." This time I took the initiative, setting down my beer and moving over to kiss him.
I lost track of time again. Both of us did. I never fished my beer. I was tired enough anyway, when Granddad wordlessly led me back to his bedroom. Our bedroom for the week. No more sex that night, just spoon naked against one another. But Grandad Paul was right: we had all the time we wanted to take together.
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Our fire pit is a lightweight compact fire pit, and smokeless fire pit. We have outdoor caring fire pits in australia.
#unique campfire safety features#camping store australia#lightweight portable fire pit#compact portable fire pit#water-filled tray campfire#artists on tumblr#versatile camping stove#portable campfire australia#wood portable fire pit#fishing camping store
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• Stray Kids as very specific vibes | OT8
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/398ec36b4298798a09630eedc1c9a530/117b53084173c224-28/s540x810/8c1dc4d74e56b9bf8c508931c3dc34a110696e87.jpg)
Chan: brushing your teeth side by side, making sure the other sleeps enough, late night city dates, plaids, dimples, racing each other on the street, spraying perfume on pillow cases, trying new stuff, 3 am runs at the grocery store, trust, last minute flights, glass clinking, lightnings, early morning fog.
Minho: reading books to each other, cat cafés, cooking together, the crackling of the fireplace, the first snow of the season, camping and fishing, quiet acts of service, giving each others silly gifts, cats stickers all over the house, warm blankets and cups of tea.
Changbin: vanilla scented candles, gym dates, sharing food, laughing carelessly, meeting the families, kissing on the shoreline, summer days, sea salt on your skin, warm hands, blowing on birthday candles, quality time, feeling safe, warm bathrobes, the smell of fresh laundry.
Hyunjin: paint stains, oversized shirts, matching nail polish, staring into each other's eyes, waking up in the middle of the night, heart wrenching movies, holding hands, whispers at night, talking about true love, soulmates, words of affirmations, sharing a blanket, museum dates.
Jisung: hysteric laughing, iced americanos, playing catch, fixing hair behind the ear, sharing earrings, falling asleep on the floor, neon lights, chapped lips and bitten nails, sharing earbuds, calming tones, shaking hands, goodnight pecks, dreaming of flying, Icarus poems, silver jewelry.
Felix: late night train rides, sitting on a car roof to watch the sun rise, the fresh water of a pool, the relaxing presence of your best friend, videogames, arcades games, golden hour, pretty smiles, silly tattoos, sharing playlists, trying new food, learning to braid hair.
Seungmin: study dates, white and baby blue flowers, coffee stained pages, journals and diaries, house keys, silly key chains, good morning videocalls, matching outfits, the warm wind on a summer night, the smell of oranges in the air, the feeling of belonging, tight hugs.
Jeongin: the glint of the snow, cold hands around warm chocolate, daily outfit pics, playgrounds, pranks, sharing secrets, watching reality shows, watching the full moon, counting stars, no fear of being judged, first love, setting goals, singing out loud into fake microphones.
#skz#skz fanfic#skz x reader#skz imagines#skz scenarios#stray kids smau#skz smau#stray kids fanfic#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#stray kids fake texts#skz fake texts#bang chan x reader#bang chan x you#lee know x reader#lee know x you#changbin x reader#changbin x you#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x you#han x reader#han x you#felix x reader#felix x you#seungmin x you#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader#bluejutdae#yang jeongin
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Down by the Sea - Hwang Jun-Ho x Fem!Reader
Follow up piece to:
Sleeping with the Enemy
The Gangsters Wife
Escape Plan
Cabin in the Woods
Synopsis: You and Hwang Jun-Ho settle into your new life by the sea

The water was calm today, the gentle waves lapping the side of the small fishing boat. The weathered vessel bobbed lazily side to side, lulling Hwang Jun-Ho into a blissful sun-drenched haze. It was perfect weather today, warm, but not too hot and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It was a perfect day for fishing.
It had been eight months since your arrival in Samcheok, and life was almost perfect. Jun-Ho had secured a job on a small fishing trawler, spending his days out catching fresh fish for the town’s restaurants and cafes. It wasn’t the most glamorous job, and the pay wasn’t great, but he was happy. You’d taken a job as a cashier in a convenience store, the novelty of being able to earn your own money still not having worn off.
It had taken you days to arrive in town, having to stop every few hours as the car journey had been excruciating for you. You’d arrived in the dead of night, checking into the one tiny motel under assumed names. For all intents and purposes, you were now Mr and Mrs Jung, a young married couple from Busan. News of Jun-Ho’s wanted status hadn’t reached the tiny fishing port, and for the moment, you were safe.
You’d arrived with nothing but the clothes on your back, a few blankets and a camping stove and for the first few weeks, life was tough. Neither of you had any money, but the townspeople took pity on you, and provided you with clothes and food to see you through. The kindness you’d received from complete strangers has bowled you over. Nothing was too much for your new neighbours, and you integrated into your new life with relative ease.
You rented a tiny one room apartment overlooking the harbour, the place barely big enough for one of you, let alone two. But you were happy, and for the first time in years your life was full of love and laughter again.
Jun-Ho doted on you, pouring every ounce of love and affection into your relationship. You spent your nights cuddled up on your tiny bed, binging terrible reality TV while eating instant ramen. You made love most nights, entwined under your sheets as your soft moans melted into the sound of the waves crashing onto the shore.
Gone were your designer clothes and jewellery. You’d swapped Prada and Dior for jeans and pastel coloured cardigans, and your LouBoutin’s had been replaced by a pair of white sneakers. You ran along the beach every morning, the wind in your hair and Jun-Ho by your side. You were finally the living the dream, your life playing out like the most perfect movie.
When Jun-Ho had suggested you pretend to be a married couple, he’d gotten down on one knee.
“When this is all over,” he told you, “will you marry me?”
He’d woven a ring out of blades of grass, a tiny wild flower acting as the diamond centrepiece. That floral ring sat pride of place on your small mantle now, a symbol of the life that was still waiting for you. The grass and flower had withered and dried, but the significance still remained.
You had almost everything you wanted, but there was still the looming fear that gripped you both every minute of every day. There was the fear that your husband would find you, that the police would be alerted to your whereabouts. Your new friends and neighbours didn’t know the truth, and they seemed like good people. But your husband had a reputation of exploiting people’s good nature, and you knew he’d be able to easily manipulate them if word got out that you were here.
But you refused to live your life in fear. You treated each day as though it were truly special, basking in the small, perfect moments with Jun-Ho. When life got heavy, you’d at the ring he’d weaved, and focused on moving forward. You’d find a way to escape your husband for good. You’d find a way to marry the man who made you feel like a real life princess. The two of you had been building your own case, wads of paper and pictures taped to the inside wall of your tiny closet. Each night you spent a little time working on, piece by piece putting together evidence to bring down the dirty cops and gangsters who had tried to tear you apart.
You had no idea if you’d be able to beat them, but you’d be fools not to try.
#squid game#squid game x reader#squid game 2#squid game fanfic#squid game x you#squid game season 2#hwang jun ho x you#hwang jun ho x reader#hwang jun ho
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YALL 😭
I SAW THIS PERCY HC THAT HE WALKED THROUGH A PET STORE AND THERE WHERE FISH SCREAMING IN AGONY SO HE TOOK THEM TO THE AQUARIUM HE HAS AT HIS CABIN IN CAMP AND THERE WAS THIS ONE WHO WOULD EAT THE MOST HE COULD BEFORE THE OTHER FISH SO PERCY CALLED HIM ZEUS AND POSEIDON KNOWS ABOUT THIS AND THINKS ITS FUNNY BUT THE PAGE REFRESHED
PLEASE HELP ME FIND IT 😭😭
#percy jackson#pjo#rick riordan#percy jackon and the olympians#heroes of olympus#jason grace#pjo hoo toa#hoo#annabeth chase#jercy#pjo hoo#pjo poseidon#poseidon pjo#pleasee🙏😭#please please please
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✧HER FAVORITE COLOR|| percy jackson x fem!reader
part one!
part two!
part three!
part four!
part five!
summary: percy jackson’s first days on camp were hell to say the least—fist day and he got bullied, but when he sneaks away to be alone he finds an interesting girl in the forest.
word count: 2825!
warnings: small curses (literally like one word and it’s not really a curse but it’s considered one) reader is daughter of athena, sister of annabeth, horrid flirting, reader lowkey not felling percy for the first half’s of this story line.
taglist: @pleasingregulus , @sometimesminsan , @alidear
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the next day percy had his plan set in motion. right when he got up he was quick to grab his long time favorite (f/c) sweatshirt that he had seen in a store a while back on one of his older quests.
when he had that on, he placed his jean pants on and his regular converse like always. while sighing percy made his way to the front door to leave but caught himself running to the water to see his reflection.
fixing his hair while whipping some previous drool off his face, he was finally proud of his appearance and set himself off to eat breakfast.
ㆍ୨୧ㆍ
as percy walked to the small open dining circle with a small fire set in the middle. he started to grab a plate behind some of the people in line. while he did he happened to look up and see the familiar hair color with the streak of (f/c) in her hair.
it’s y/n. y/n is standing right in front of him. looking down subconsciously to fix his jacket to make it more neat he clears his throat. making himself known.
she didn’t turn around.
doing it once more to hope she did—she didn’t at all.
‘ahem!’ he spoke out—very loudly making her turn around in an instant’ y/n had thought someone was going to throw up on her but she immediately calmed down to see it was percy and not some sick person.
‘oh…percy, good morning’ y/n mumbled while she grabbed some small fruits and other breakfast items. he smiled a bit, happy she looked at him and overall interacted.
‘good morning…uh-uhm you sleep well? it was pretty quiet last night’ he stumbled to grab the tongs that she had previously had in her hand to grab fruits as he grabbed some blueberries.
‘oh, yeah i guess? you?’ she looked back at him, waiting for his response which was replied with a smile and nod.
‘yup, very good—very! i actually had the craziest dream ever. i was like in the ocean and uhm…i see this like weird looking fish—‘
‘that’s nice’ she mumbled. walking away from him before he could get the best part of the story which was him being eaten.
‘yeah…nice’ he mumbled. holding the plate in his hand a bit tighter. upset at the fact she walked away. her presence going to a smaller table with annabeth and luke at.
sighing in dread, he walked his way over to his best friend, grover’s table who had been eating his breakfast.
‘hey grover’ he introduced. grover looked up and smiled at percy—‘hey perc! how’d it go—‘
‘don’t…please’ percy silently begged as he leaned down into the table with his plate set down first.
grover winced and tried not to laugh—‘guess she didn’t stay to speak back?’
‘she didn’t stay at all. i was telling her my dream and she walked away immediately’ percy whined while grover laughed.
‘dude! you try to start a conversation, the last thing to do is talk about your dream’ he laughed while percy groaned.
‘i didn’t know! i mean…it was a pretty good dream though’ he shrugged while eating his blueberries.
‘oh do tell?’ grover leaned in. percy smile and shook his head.
‘later, later.’ as grover nodded and continued to eat his food, he noticed percy looking back at y/n who sat eating her breakfast. smiling occasionally to her sister and to luke who told some joke.
what joke could he have possibly told that made her smile like that? it couldn’t have been that funny.
‘what’s so funny?’ he asked out loud, making grover look up from his plate with his eyebrows frowned.
‘uhm…i didn’t laugh?’ he looked around to make sure he wasn’t talking to some other person.
‘no—i mean her, what did luke tell her that was so funny? she literally almost spit out her breakfast.’ percy rolled his eyes while he practically forced himself to watch as y/n laughed at luke’s jokes non-stop.
‘i mean…was my joke with my dream not good enough? i mean, if she stayed she may have actually laughed because that dream was totally laughable.’ percy rolled his eyes once more when y/n placed her hand—well, more like slapped luke on the arm for the joke he told…again.
‘gross’ he mumbled. while picking at his food that happened to lose its flavorful look.
grover smiled and could feel himself almost bust out laughing at seeing percy’s new mood. percy fell unnoticed as he moved around the circular blueberries on his plate. occasionally hearing the laugh that belonged to y/n.
ㆍ୨୧ㆍ
later that morning it was time for percy to have his most waited training session with y/n.
for the first time…ever? percy was actually ready and kind of excited to see her…well, not her but he was excited to be training of course! not that he wouldn’t be happy to see her because he is but that would be kind of weird—anyways.
walking to h where y/n told him to meet, he noticed the more farther he got the more less people got. and the more farther he got the more quieter and more spacious it got.
‘uhm…hello? it’s percy? percy jackson?’ he yelled out while looking around the small trees that curled around the huge patch of green hill he stood on.
‘hello?’ he yelled out once more—‘y/n? it’s me per—‘
‘i know it’s you percy i just thought it would be funny to watch you look around while yelling your name over and over as if the whole camp don’t know who you are’ she spoke. as he turned around he saw y/n in different attire.
her hair was on her shoulder into a braid while she smiled a bit.
she was smiling at him?
score one, luke one.
‘oh right! typical. i should’ve guessed you were just lurking there. you always are. kind of weird right?’
‘not really…not unless you make it weird…that is’ she grinned a bit while tilting her head to the side. percy smiled back and shook his head while he watched her walk a bit closer.
‘so…now is when we start.’ she sighed while bringing the satchel of bows and arrows around from her back to her front half. as percy watched she easily took out three arrows and a simple made bow while handing it to him.
he was quick to retrieve it and position it in the way it’s supposed to be. once ready he looked out for the target only to see—there wasn’t any?
‘uhm…i’m not a expert in archery or anything but i’m pretty sure there is supposed to be a…target to shoot at with the little red dot?’ he squinted his eyes while y/n smiled at him with her eyebrow raised.
he felt his heart stumble again but ignored it—‘there is a tar
get…there’s always one. i just placed it…right—‘ as she closed one of her eyes, a hand on her hip and the other pointing straight ahead, he looked where she did to only see a sack of sand with a red dot on the middle of it—‘over there’
percy wouldn’t have a problem with this…the only thing was, the sack of sand was a bit away. like far away. so far his eyesight got blurry when he looked at it.
‘uhm—whoa? i thought this was training’ he turned to her with his mouth agape.
‘this is training’
‘yeah but there’s always a level one and stuff( for beginners? i’m a beginner! i can’t shoot that far—‘
‘you can, you just don’t think you can, your always capable of doing what you think you can’t’ she mumbled while walking next to him, waiting for him to shoot.
he looked at y/n’s eyes while turning chest to chest to her so she could see him fully and he could see her—‘there you go again, with these poet moments or something…you don’t have to sugar coat anything with me…you know that right?’
she looked at his eyes with nod—‘yeah i know, i just like saying those things. sometimes it freaks luke or grover out’ she smile at the mention of their name which made percy roll his eyes.
‘okay, rule one. keep calm talk away from training talk, we’re here to bond—‘
‘to train you to get better at archery—‘
‘same thing! don’t you see those movies where the master becomes close with the student? like in karate kid?’
‘i’ve never…seen a movie.’ she bashfully admitted making percy’s jaw drop.
‘oh no, we definitely can’t have that—we’ll definitely be watching a movie somehow someway.’
‘we need to focus percy—‘
‘okay! okay but wait…one more thing okay? but don’t get mad because it kind of sounds stupid—‘
‘dude…’
smiling a bit he walked a bit closer to her with confidence in his voice and body—‘what’s your favorite color?’ he tilted his head a bit while she did the same.
confusion running all over her face he smiled more as she looked away.
‘(f/c).’ she simply answered.
‘this color?’ pointing down at his jacket she nodded.
‘yeah that one—wait, you had a jacket this whole time? i never noticed’ she admitted while looking down at his jacket and back up into his eyes.
he smiled and nodded—‘yeah. i am a lot more things than a jacket, you just have to notice them’ he mumbled while she shook her head with a eye roll.
‘ew, set up your bow and arrow, weirdo’ she turned him with a hit in his shoulder a she smiled and laughed.
‘yes, ma’am!’ he yelled out making her shake her head once more.
score board—luke one…percy two.
ㆍ୨୧ㆍ
percy was nearly dying. the reason she gave him only three arrows was for every one missed him and had to retrieve them. since he missed poorly, had to make it up by taking a couple of laps around the small mountain they had been standing on.
percy wasn’t regretting the fact she offered to train him. he wasn't at all, not even a little. why would he?
hw just wasn’t built for the whole running and exercising. he can blame that on third through all grade bullies. and primarily on the fact he probably had terrible ptsd everytime he got close to a gym room thinking there would be people to throw basketballs, volleyballs and any other ones—not all…—right at him.
y/n had taken the liberty to stay cool in the shade under the sun as she watched him run laps, go again and again at shooting. the whole process was a never ending cycle.
‘i have a feeling…i can do it this time!’ percy breathed heavily as he aimed his arrow across the field.
‘you said that the last three times…and the other times before those three’ y/n crossed her arms over her chest—her signature pose—and watched percy as he turned around with his jaw dropped.
the look of shock witten over his features.
‘i mean a little enthusiasm and encouragement wouldn’t hurt you right?’ he tried to get at least one nice thing out of her. she shrugged and looked at the grassed floor.
‘it would though! i think ill melt if i be nice to you’ she grinned as he rolled his eyes.
‘come on? please?’
‘you said you didn’t want my poetry words��� she reminded him as he set the arrow down to his side.
‘well…yeah but a simple you can do it percy, will work just fine’ he shrugged as y/n rolled her eyes with a grin.
‘try your best’ she simply mumbled.
percy felt his face warm up and his chest beat a bit faster as he replayed her words in his mind. maybe it would have been best if she actually didn’t say anything.
how could he focus now?
smiling at her he gave her a nod while turning around and giving out a deep breath he had been holding while hiding his face from her view.
‘go for it percy’ she told him as he outstretched his arms. the bow and arrow ready for his control.
looking straight ahead at the sack of sand he squinted and pulled back on the arrow and string. his grip tightened around the bow, exhaling a breath, he sucked in and released the arrow.
watching it fly across the field, percy gasped when he sat it hit the red dot in the sack. immediately turning around to look at y/n who had her eyebrows raised, he laughed out.
‘i got it! i got it, i got it, i got it! he yelled out with a laugh as she held her hand over her mouth to hide her own laugh.
as he jumped a bit with excitement. y/n couldn’t help but let out a genuine smile as she watched his childlike antics.
‘you did, good job’ she told him while percy watched over to y/n who had her hands on her hips one more.
‘i mean not to brag or anything but you know, i’m kind of a pro now’ he bashfully told while y/n scoffed, shaking her head with a grin.
‘a pro?’
‘yup, did you see how i just did that? i mean…after a couple of tries—‘
‘a couple? we started this thing five hours ago’ she admitted. he frowned and turned to see the sun was setting over the water that had been in view of them.
‘five hours? how? it felt like…at least two, and don’t act like you haven’t been training to be able to aim that good for a couple of hours’ percy raised an eyebrow at y/n who simple hummed in reply.
he watched her carefully to see she didn’t deny nor try to back up which revealed a lot of things—‘you got it on your first try?’
‘i got it on my first try, but that’s okay! y’know, just keep practicing’ y/n smiled as percy and her began walking back to camp.
‘but how long will it take for me to get as good as you? your literally good at everything’ he bragged for her as y/n shrugged.
‘i’m not that good at everything, I'm just multi-talented, and who knows how long it will take. you could be as old as grover in ten years and you can still be practicing, but you’ll never know that’ she turned to him as he looked her in her eyes, laughing a bit at the loose joke she just told.
she did the same as the two finally arrived at camp. the small crowd getting ready for dinner as they sat with their siblings and friends.
‘well, i guess this is we’re we spit? i have to get to annabeth and my siblings…so’ y/n held her hands in front of her as percy stood almost chest to chest with her.
‘oh! right…right, well. i’ll see you later? maybe we can hang out instead of training tomorrow? i know a place in the woods—i mean! it doesn’t have to be the woods! i don’t want you thinking im some creep or trying to kill you or something! my mom watched documentaries about the woods and they never end well, trust me—‘
‘percy!’ she stopped his small rant with a smile on her face. her smile was so fitting and so beautiful. the slight orange and pink lighting of the sunset defined her face more than the morning sun and the moon at night. her hair was tossed to the side in its braid as she held her hands out on his arms.
‘i’ll see you tomorrow after i’m done with training…okay?’ she said. tilting her head a bit with a smile she let her hand linger on his forearm a bit more before letting go and walking to annabeth.
percy stood, shocked. reaching to his arm with his hand he let it stay there for a bit before widely smiling.
as he ran over to grover who had been eating once more—he smiled and laughed a bit into his hands to conceal it. grover looked over at him with a scared expression. it’s almost like some teenage girl just possessed percy.
‘uhm..i’m guessing it went well?’
‘it went so well!’ he banged his hand on the wooden table causing some people that sat near them. he ignored them though, to happy to even care at the moment.
‘she agreed to hang out tomorrow in the words, i need to sleep! i need to get ready early—‘
‘dude calm down your not getting married’ grover laughed as percy gave him a look which made grover roll his eyes.
‘dude!’ he laughed as percy stood up and walked over to his cabin.
getting ready for bed so he could be energized and awake for his hang out tomorrow with y/n.
score count,
luke one, percy three.
#percy#percy series#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson#percy pjo#grover underwood#annabeth chase#luke castellan
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Serial Killer!Rick Grimes x f!Reader Smut: Trophies
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/81b1c9e1e25ca47414e2751a3df1ac9a/43d9078c6d36b71d-ae/s500x750/dccd32d560412bc08a03a9bb11ff2edceb05849e.jpg)
Warnings/Mentions: Murder, use of alcohol, Rough sex, choking, slapping, biting, hair pulling, spitting, overstimulation, Rick is a sadist in bed and gift giving is his love language, but also just likes to see you wearing belongings of people he's killed
Summary: Rick gets tired of putting his kill trophies in a box, so he puts them on you instead. Then you fuck.
Notes: I finally got around to finishing this yippee! There's 2 smut scenes, first is kind of short and tame, and the one at the end is a few pages long and contains the more aggressive parts. Somewhat proofread!!
There were many routines in your life, and the lives of the people around you.
Rick was no exception.
Any time he'd leave the prison he'd go through the checklist in his mind; revolver, ammunition, his machete, water and a little bit of food.
And his cassette player, with that single tape.
Every note of the unnamed female's voice was engraved deep into his brain. He knew every hum and breath, every strum of her gentle fingers across her guitar.
It was just some tape he'd found. Didn't have a sentimental meaning to it from life before, wasn't some artist he was a fan of. He found it in that old rundown music store the two of you spent a night in back in Atlanta, and he took it.
You'd seen him with it plenty of times but you'd never actually seen him listen to it. You never gave it a second thought until you were on a run together, driving in silence down the long winding back roads.
You asked if he wanted to play his tape on the car stereo, and his friendly calm demeanor was instantly replaced with that look you'd only seen very few times.
“No.” The look on his face was enough to change your entire mood for the day.
His later attempts at cheering you up were only met with feigned smiles and laughter, something he was quick to pick up on.
“Why don't we go see that river you told me about, long time ago.” He looked over at you in the passenger seat, giving you that trademark Rick Grimes smile.
“Oh, if it's not out of the way, yeah.” You shrugged. It was clear you were still feeling unnerved by the ice thrown in your direction for seemingly no reason.
“If there's as many fish as you said there were, then it don't matter.”
“Okay, yeah, should be fun.”
Rick grinned when he could sense your attitude reaching a more positive level. “Alright. River first thing in the morning. Know of any place around here we can camp out for the night?”
“There's some old camping grounds a few miles up from the entrance point to the river. They used to set up tents near this fishing shed, tents are probably gone but the shed won't be. There's a few larger cabins up the same road but I have a feeling they're probably occupied. Was a real nice place.”
Rick nodded and continued driving.
He said, come wander, with me, love
Rick closed his eyes as he sat in the front room in the largest cabin. If his timing was right, they should be walking up the steps now.
Now at the door. Now opening the door. Now walking in. Now they saw him.
It was careless, what he was doing. Careless. You were asleep down the road in that little fishing shed, you could wake up at any minute and find the bedroll next to you cold and empty. Get worried, wait a few minutes, then get out your gun and come looking for him. It was stupid.
He just couldn't help himself. It'd been so long.
He opened his eyes.
One woman, three men. The first man was scrawny, easy. Rick could take him out with little to no effort. The woman was a bit chubby, but very short. She looked horrified already, she'd be easy too.
The other two men would be a bit of a challenge. Tall and well built.
Their mouths moved as they stared at the strange man sitting in their house. He could make out a few ‘what’s but that was about it.
He caught them off guard by walking right up to them.
First big man caught a knife to the head. The other pulled his gun and shot, barely missing Rick's shoulder.
Rick yanked the knife free and grabbed a wrist, pinning it against the front door, smashing over and over against the wood until his grip spasmed, and the gun fell with a clatter.
The woman was pulling at him like a sick dog. He reared back and elbowed her in the face, breaking her nose and knocking her unconscious. She fell to the floor with a thud, and the scrawny man dropped to check on her.
Rick turned back to the man he had pinned against the wall. He was angry, cursing, little white bubbles of foamy spit spraying from his lips. A trembling hand reached up, desperate to poke an eye or anything that could potentially stun Rick, only succeeding in ripping out the buds in the older man's ears.
He set his jaw as his heart began to race. Now it would get sloppy.
Rick reared back, and slammed his head forward so hard he felt the bridge of his nose instantly crack against his forehead. Blood spewed from his nose down his face, spraying Rick in the process.
The man reeled before collapsing. The hard part was over. The easier ones were more of a chore.
Rick stood back and admired his work.
The woman had a plastic bag over her head, but it was still obvious she'd been bludgeoned. Poor thing, didn't even wake up before she'd been so brutally slaughtered.
The scrawny man had his neck snapped. It was by complete accident, Rick didn't expect him to be so… fragile. He laid in the living room next to the woman and the first man he'd stabbed.
Rick looked down at the dog tags in his hand. They were fake, he could tell that much. Ordered at some flea market from cheap metal. The back had worn away to copper.
He balled up the rest of his rope and stuffed it in his duffle bag before finally leaving, the pleads and begging falling on deaf ears.
It took their people three days to find them.
“You, that's the man that killed Javier. I saw you leaving the same night we found him.”
That didn't alarm you. You knew Rick had killed people before. The words that followed soon after were a different story.
It was the third day of your scavenging run. The first day you spent on the road looking for a spot. The second day you spent on the river, mostly fishing and picking out places on a crinkled old map to go on the third day.
You'd just woken up, eyes still foggy with sleep as you walked out of the fishing shed to see Rick standing in front of a small group of people.
“Your man was a threat to my people.” Rick used the barrel of his revolver as he spoke like some sort of pointer rod, making the three strangers flinch each time it aimed at one of them.
“No. You tied him up like a skinned deer, was he still alive when you cut his stomach open?” Their leader's questioning was cut off with a quick gunshot to the head.
You gasped, not expecting that, and brought your hand to cover your mouth.
“No!” A blonde woman shrieked and fell to her knees beside her lover's limp body. She looked up to Rick then, venom in her spit as she spoke. “You're worse than the dead ones!”
Rick killed her just as well as the silent man behind her. Then it was just you and him, and now you were the mute.
You weren't thinking, really. Your eyes were still wide and burning from not blinking, staring into the pile of bodies that had been alive only seconds ago.
“Hey, you alright?” His voice was back to normal and you blinked, seeing he was now knelt beside you with that familiar look of compassion. That was the Rick you knew, not that cold thing that used his body only minutes before.
“Yeah, just, I wasn't expecting that.” You breathed. Your lips and fingers felt numb, despite it being a warm October day.
Rick nodded, looking down at the dirt between his feet. He chewed on the inside of his cheek before speaking.
“I keep forgetting you're not as… seasoned as the rest of us.”
No. That wasn't it.
You were no stranger to killing, but the people you killed were in self defense.
What Rick just did was cold blooded murder. And the way he made it seem like the most normal thing a man could do had your chest feeling tight.
“I'm hungry.” It was all you could think to say.
He snorted at that, taken aback by your words. “Hungry? Okay. You okay staying here for a few? I can go search that old country store down the road.”
You nodded, glancing at the bodies only a few feet away. He followed your gaze and squeezed your knee to redirect your attention back to him.
“Keep your radio on. I'll just be a little while, okay?” He smiled when you nodded. “Don't use your gun unless you have to.”
You were thankful he drug the bodies away before he left.
Come wander with me.
Rick took a deep breath.
It had been two weeks, his self control was slowly slipping. He'd gone a year without killing once, when Carl was born. At the time it was easy.
The old brown house, threatening to crumble at any moment from the massive amounts of dry rot and termites, was a perfect place to look for people out on their own. They loved staying in the inconspicuous hole in the walls, places that you would never notice unless you were desperate and terrified.
He moved out of the shadows and dug his knife into the base of a skull. They died in his arms and he held them there, closing his eyes as the struggles grew weaker and weaker, until they finally stopped all at once.
He opened his heavy lids to see a woman screaming, her hands covering her mouth from the opposite side of the small living room. The buds in his ears prevented him from hearing most of it.
Rick let the lifeless body slide from his arms, and stood. He was quick as he walked towards her, grabbing her by her hair and letting out a disappointed ‘tsk’ at her state of shock. She could have easily escaped but she chose to stay there and wail.
He came from the sunset, he came from the sea.
Rick held her against his chest as she squirmed in his arms, pounding her fists against his chest, her movements futile, weak from starvation and dehydration. He closed his eyes again as he held her there, dragging his knife up the base of her spine. He could hear her screams now, they'd transformed from anger to terror, dry screeches as she pleaded for her life.
Rick found his thoughts drifting to you, and now it was your voice humming in his ears, replacing the unknown feminine voice he'd grown so accustomed to.
You truly were a sight to behold. Even if it was just in his mind.
A sharp kick to his knee snapped the image of you out of his mind, and sent him into a state of anger. He opened his eyes and gritted his teeth before yanking her head to the side, looking down at her soft tanned skin.
A mother Mary coin sat at the base of her throat, dangling on a thin chain, only for a second before Rick gently took it off.
She jerked against him as she realized she was bleeding, streams of warm blood gushing down her neck and chest.
Her already weak movements became weaker as she bled out, only managing to give a last ditch attempt of escape when his knife was removed from her throat. Her jerking against him stilled, and he pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes glued to hers as he watched her blue eyes turn glossy.
Rick took the earbuds from his ears and put them in the back pocket of his jeans, along with the necklace.
He wouldn't need to put his trophies in a box anymore.
You smiled in surprise as you looked at the jewelry in your open palm.
“Do I seem the religious type?” You mused, running your finger over the gold oval. Mother Mary. You didn't expect Rick to think of you when seeing something like that.
“No.” He hummed, a soft smile on his lips. He looked so sweet then, the orange reflections of the campfire dancing across his face.
You wanted to question him, ask him where he found it and why he decided you were fit to wear it, but your lips closed when he moved to put it around your neck.
He was gentle, gentle as he moved your hair over your shoulder, and gentle as he closed the clasp and brushed your hair back in its original position.
“Thanks Rick. It's really pretty.” Your fingers stroked the charm at your neck, the metal warm from being in his back pocket. You decided then you didn't care to know about the where or the why, the hows or why there was dried blood on the back of it.
“Dinners ready. Go get Daryl and come eat.” He brushed your hair behind your ear and smiled. He was looking at you, but not really looking at you.
“Okay.”
You managed to drag Daryl down from the watchtower for dinner without much complaining. But to your confusion, the group only stayed around the table for about ten minutes to chat, eat their roasted trout and canned asparagus, and then they left. Not one at a time either.
When you finished the last few bites of your dinner, Rick took you into the warden's office, a nice secluded space with comfortable chairs and a pretty brown desk table.
You looked up from the table to see Rick walking back with a bottle of wine in hand, a sly smile on his face.
You raised a brow and smirked as he poured it into two plastic cups, setting yours in front of you before sitting down.
“This what I think it is?” You teased, taking a sip of wine to cool your nerves. You were anxious as hell, although your calm and amused exterior didn't show it.
Was Rick Grimes, leader of your group, seriously flirting with you? Beyond the usual innocent playfulness?
“Depends on what you think it is. Date? Yes. Work conference? No.” He took a sip.
“So, you just tell them all to stay away from here? They know?” You suddenly blushed at the idea of the group knowing Rick was sweet on you. It felt like dating the cool kid in school all over again.
“Well, not exactly that, but yeah, they know.” He looked at you then in a way that made you nervous. It was the way he used to look at Lori. All soft eyed and smiles.
You barely knew him, like really knew him, you hung around Carol, Carl and Glenn more than anyone else, it just felt too out of place for you to hang out with Rick or Daryl. That role was better suited for Maggie or Michonne.
When he had asked you to go out on that run a few days ago with him, just him, you were stunned. And now here he was, serving you dinner and fancy wine like you were his wife.
“Why? I mean, why me?”
He furrowed his brows and looked at you thoughtfully, as if he didn't quite know the answer himself. He took another sip of wine before answering.
“I don't know why. I just know I like you.”
You grinned a bit at that. “You like me, huh? It's cause of my Kardashian looks isn't it?”
Rick laughed and shook his head. “Kardashian looks huh? Yeah, sure.”
The tension from your end quickly faded the more you talked.
You couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of guilt the more Rick flirted with you. Lori had died not too long ago, and even though he seemed completely fine, you worried it was him finding unhealthy ways to cope.
You didn't know he already had a lifelong coping mechanism, and you were another thing entirely.
Murder was always common in the apocalypse. You'd seen more victims of humans than you could count.
Moving into Alexandria though, it seemed like almost every time you went outside the walls you'd find a new dead body a few miles away, obviously done by a human and not the dead.
“Jesus.” Daryl muttered, using a stick to move a dead man's head to the side, showcasing the dramatic knife wound to his cheek.
“They're getting closer to home.” You muttered, looking down at the body near your feet as Daryl poked at it.
“Yeah.” He agreed. He dropped his stick and stood up, shaking his head. “Sorry sonvabitch that did this better hope he don't come any closer.”
That night Rick gave you another piece of jewelry. A silver thumb ring, long but not visually remarkable.
“This is actually really pretty.” You said as you slipped it on your thumb, opposite hand of the other ring Rick gave you in the past.
“Yeah?” Rick grinned, looking over his shoulder as he took the dishes from dinner to his sink.
He'd invited you over for dinner. You appreciated it, it had been a while since you had time alone with the man. You'd begun to miss him and his daring flirtation.
“Yeah, don't need to worry about it snagging on anything either. Can wear it when I go out.” Your fingers continued fidgeting with the ring, spinning it around your thumb as you watched him clean up.
He dried his hands and walked over to you, offering out a hand, an act that made your stomach do flips. “I'm glad you like it.”
You took his hand, warm, his fingers so large and thick they made yours look like they belonged to a pianist in comparison.
He led you from your seat at the dining room table to his living room, leaving you on the couch while he went to dig through a basket.
You watched him from your spot on the couch as he put a DVD in the player under the living room tv. You wondered then, would they be gone all night? Carl, Michonne, Daryl? Did he tell them to find somewhere else to sleep for the night?
You blushed wildly at the idea of everyone in Alexandria knowing Rick was trying to have sex with you.
“How long will they be gone?” You blurted.
Rick turned to you after turning on the TV, a brow raised. “Couple hours. Why?”
“Well, if it's gonna be a sleepover I gotta get my stuff.” You laughed nervously, cursing yourself for sounding so awkward and timid.
“I didn't plan on it, but,” he groaned dramatically as he plopped down onto the cushy couch next to you, “-the idea is tempting.”
You realized you were wrong in your assumption that he was trying to get laid. Fuck. That was embarrassing.
He seemed open to it though, right? Or were you just so touch deprived that you were fooling yourself into reading him the wrong way?
You watched the first Twilight movie and laughed most of the time, but you caught Rick watching intently at the baseball scene.
“I'm so pissed the outbreak had to happen when it did. We were two months away from the sequel. Two months! That means they finished it and it's on some hard drive somewhere, never to be seen.”
Rick smiled at your complaining, that same look of strange admiration on your face.
You still didn't know how to react to it, on one hand, it was extremely flattering and you were starting to get turned on, but on the second hand it rationally was a little off-putting. Maybe he really did just have a thing for you, maybe it was just as simple as that.
His gaze should've made you blush and swoon, and it definitely did, but… there was something about it that set your teeth on edge. Far too intimidating.
“Maybe we'll find it one day.”
“That would be the day we have a real slumber party. Popcorn, sodas, everything.”
“Yeah? Gonna braid each other's hair too?” He teased.
You scoffed and playfully punched his shoulder. The man didn't even budge, like he was made of stone. “Can you braid?”
“Damn good at it.”
You gaped at him in amused disbelief. “No shot!”
“C'mere.” Rick's knees spread and he tapped his shoe on the floor between his feet.
You gulped some wine before quickly shrugging, and got on the floor, your feet tucked neatly under your butt.
His hands felt illegally good. He brushed your hair over your shoulders and ran his fingers through it, from your roots down to the ends. Each time his fingertips ran down your scalp you were given a fresh wave of goosebumps, and when they brushed against the back of your neck you visibly shivered.
Rick wasn't lying. He managed to give you a beautiful braid, working with what was given to make something you'd be happy to wear on a fancy date. You ran your fingers over the braid and scoffed in shock.
“It's so pretty.” You admired the way the necklace he had given you back at the prison was on full view, no longer hidden or covered by your hair. It sat right at your collarbone, and the neckline of your black and red dress framed it perfectly.
When Rick said ‘wear something nice’ for dinner you immediately panicked and went to Rosita. She picked out a beautiful dress for you, it was classy but not over the top, pretty to look at but also comfortable to lay around in.
You looked at him in the mirror in front of you. He was looking at you again, but different this time.
Less wholesome admiration, more… desire. He had little readable expression but the bit you could read had your lower stomach flipping with excitement.
You turned to face him and took a second to appreciate the way the black button up shirt hugged his muscles just so slightly. It wasn't the cover of some smutty werewolf or vampire novel, but fuck, it had your knees feeling weak.
“Told you.”
It took you a moment to process what he meant, but when you did, you smiled and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, you did. Where'd you learn to braid like this?”
“Same place they taught me how to pick up women.” He winked. You both laughed.
You ended up back on the couch with a different movie put in. Neither of you were paying any attention to it though, your focus slowly shifting to each other.
“Think they'll be back soon?” You had the courage to flirt all of a sudden.
Maybe it was the wine that had loosened you up, or maybe it was the fact he looked so hot in that shirt and smelled like sandalwood and jasmine.
“Hm, maybe.” He flirted back, an edge of tauntful tease to his voice. “Why?”
“Well, usually after a date goes this well…” You trailed off and wiggled your eyebrows. Your boldness surprised the both of you, and he couldn't help but chuckle.
“Yeah? What's that?” He hummed, his smile slowly fading when he looked from your eyes to your lips.
“Girl shows the guy a good time.”
“That right?” He leaned in, and you could smell his cologne stronger than before. You closed your eyes and bit back a sigh.
“Maybe, I don't know. Never been on a date this good.” You leaned in, mirroring his movements, looking down to his lips.
“How about the guy shows the girl a good time, huh? How about that?” His voice was breathy then, warm and smelling like expensive wine.
You nodded and he smiled, breaking past the last few inches to kiss you.
He was so soft. His hands cupped your cheeks with a featherlight caress, and his lips were equally as gentle. He moved them against yours, his tongue slipping out to trace along your wine stained lips. You parted your lips and moaned at the feeling of his tongue in your mouth.
Rick guided you on your back, just as gentle as every man you'd seen on all those romance movies you pretended to cringe at. His hand under the small of your back had a wave of wetness seeping out of you, you had underestimated how truly touch starved you were.
It wasn't long before he had led you up to his bedroom. You were astonished at how neat everything was. Bed was made, sheets looked fresh out of the wash.
He had his revolver laid out on his dresser along with a few other melee weapons, his machete, axe, and a long dagger. Everything was perfectly organized.
And there, in the duffel bag peeking out from under his bed, sat his cassette player.
Once the door was closed behind him he wasted no time in undressing you, popping open the buttons on the back of your dress. He moved slow and meticulously, brushing the sleeves off your shoulders to plant a few kisses on the warm skin there.
You sighed at his touch and pressed your back against his chest, aching to feel him envelop you in his warmth.
He took his hands away from your sides to unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt but you turned and placed your hand on top of his. He looked at you curiously and you returned a sheepish smile.
“You look really good in these clothes.”
He grinned when he realized your intentions and he left his shirt buttoned, save for the three at the top.
Rick looked unbelievably sexy then, a few golden curls of chest hair visible from the slit in his shirt, his hair slightly ruffled from your hands, and a face so blown with lust that you could touch yourself to it for more than one orgasm.
Then he had you on his bed sprawled out for him, your arms lying above your head as you watched him unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants. When he pulled the zipper down, and pulled his cock out, you literally whimpered at the sight. It was beautiful, like the picture perfect example of a male penis. Perfect girth, perfect length, even the mess of brown and blonde pubes were stunning.
You could go on forever about Rick Grimes’ dick.
He gave a smug smirk as he moved to take his place over you, pulling down your dress the rest of the way and immediately planting his smug little face between your legs.
You gasped and threw your head back against the mattress. He nuzzled your clothed clit with his nose, inhaling your scent and sneakily stroking his dick with his right hand. With the other he held onto your left thigh, fingers digging into the skin there.
He took his time working you up, licking and sucking and even once nipping your clit through the fabric of your panties.
You were a whimpering mess by the time he pulled his head away and went to take your panties off.
He stopped your hand and you looked up at him, brows furrowed.
“These look really good on you.” He smirked.
Your head fell back into the mattress when he pulled your panties to the side. Thank GOD you took the cute panties Rosita offered you. If you were wearing one of your practical sets of underwear you would've died from embarrassment.
He rubbed his finger through your folds, gathering your slick to rub across your clit. You let out a pathetic whine and grabbed fistfuls of cotton sheets beside your head.
He took his time. He slipped in his middle finger up to the knuckle, curling it painfully slowly. Bless Lori, or whoever the fuck taught him that. You were definitely coming tonight.
“Rick, ah, mmm, god.” A hot puff of air from your lips blew a stray lock of hair from your face, a result from your braid having become messy.
He tsked once and drew his finger back, wiping the wetness off on the head of his cock.
You were basically on the edge of your seat at this point, leaning up on your elbows to watch every move he made.
He ran his hands over your torso, ignoring your breasts which made you whine in disappointment.
His eyes flicked up to you, and you were filled with an unexplainable sense of anxiety. Like there was something in you, dating way back to when you needed instincts to survive. Your instincts were telling you that you needed to leave, now. You were in danger.
Every hair on your arms, thighs, the back of your neck, they all prickled. Your upper lip twitched, as if it wanted to pull back and show him your teeth.
“You just tell me to stop, and I will, okay?” His voice was low.
Your blood ran cold.
“What?” You whispered, your bottom lip trembled, and you found breathing became a difficult task.
He repeated himself, his voice still just as low, that same dangerous look on his face. He moved quickly.
He was inside you before you had time to adjust, his hand covering your mouth to muffle the pained noises you made. He groaned into your neck and buried himself deeper inside you, his dick twitching as your walls spasmed around him. He pulled out slowly, savoring the tight drag of your hot cunt, before plunging back in.
Rick was rough, rougher than you could have ever predicted. It was so strange, earlier he was so soft and gentle. He fucked you hard and rough like that for a few long minutes before flipping you over on your stomach.
His hands were on your hips. His fingers digging painfully into your soft skin. He used his upper body weight to render your lower half helpless beneath his open palms.
He groaned as he watched his dick disappear back into you, his eyebrows knitted tightly together and his mouth hanging open.
“Je-jesus christ.” Your moan was strangled in your throat as his hands closed around your neck.
You didn't have time to take a preparation breath, he squeezed quick and hard, immediately cutting off all blood and air flow to your brain. You tried to pry his fingers away and off of you but he didn't relent, only squeezing harder.
Your vision blurred and your head swam with thick panic, you dug your fingernails into the back of his hand until his grip loosened.
The lungful of air you sucked in felt fresher than any breath you'd ever taken. You didn't have long before his fist was in your hair, yanking your head to the side to stuff your discarded panties into your mouth.
You whimpered in protest but he just shoved your face into his pillows and plowed deeper into you.
It wasn’t quick at all, quite the opposite.
He fucked you like that for what felt like hours. It was realistically maybe twenty minutes, but that was still a long time to get fucked.
Your body trembled underneath him from the exhaustion of back to back orgasms. He had already came inside you once, and you felt a small sense of relief, but he didn't stop. He didn't even slow down. He just moaned into your neck and continued battering your insides.
You were spent. Every part of your body ached, your pussy felt raw and your clit throbbed painfully. Your stomach and chest chafed against his comforter, and right before it got too much he flipped you over.
Rick looked down at you like you were a painting he finally finished after months of perfecting.
He slid his warm rough hands over your chest, pinching your sore nipples, squeezing your red breasts.
His eyes found your necklace and he rolled his hips, earning a muffled whine in response. Then they found the ring on your middle finger, and rolled into you again. The thumb ring on your other hand. Your body shivered when he slammed his pelvis forward.
You couldn’t respond in any way, you pulled your panties from your dry mouth and panted, wiping the sweat from your forehead.
He changed completely after he finished. He peppered kisses all over you, sweet and soft against your cheeks, down your neck and chest, tender and soft on your nipples.
He took care of you after, he cleaned you with a cool rag and brought you one of his white t shirts to change into. He silently asked you to stay the night with more gentle kisses after you attempted to leave.
You shouldn't have been snooping, you knew it was wrong.
The song felt chilling after what you’d witnessed throughout your time in knowing him, and the night you'd shared.
You sat at the foot of his bed and listened, unaware of the way your fingers had begun to twitch around the tape player.
Something about it felt wrong, like you were listening to Gloomy Sunday after hearing the legend surrounding it as a child again. Your heart raced as the song finished and you put the cassette player back where you found it, in his duffle bag at the foot of his bed.
You made it down the stairs before you rounded the corner and smacked right into a large chest.
“Jesus woman.”
You let out a breath when you saw it was Daryl. Covered in dirt and smelling like cigarettes and gasoline, a familiar sight that sets you at ease.
“Shit, sorry.”
He'd been slightly annoyed at the way you startled him, but something had caught his eye and his irritation faded.
“Y'alright?” He grunted, looking at you with a raised brow.
“Yeah, I'm okay.” You nodded. He eyed you suspiciously before leaving without a goodbye, heading up the stairs to Rick's room.
“He's not here.”
He stopped in his tracks and turned to look down at you. “Where's he at then?”
“I don't know.”
You found out the reason for his staring when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror. You'd need to wear turtlenecks for the next few days.
Rick was thrown off his game without his music. He was more aggressive, sloppy, and hateful in the way he killed.
“Please!” His voice sounded pathetic. It made Rick curl his top lip in disgust as he watched him squirm against his restraints, the bodies of his loved ones littering the ground next to him.
“Don't leave me here.” He begged as the chill of night crept through the thick trees they found themselves in. It carried the smell of rain, rotten leaves and cigarette butts.
“Give me one good reason.” Rick held his bloodied machete as he observed the man.
Young, maybe early twenties. Black hair, a black ‘beard’, which was too patchy to really qualify as one, and an orange sweater. The sweater had been mostly stained a reddish brown from his blood, and the blood of his friends, which all had the mercy of a better fate than what awaited him.
His body sagged as he twisted against the pine, his wrists burning and bruising from the frayed rope.
“I'm a good man. Never done anything wrong. Never killed, never raped anyone-”
“Aw, well, ain't that nice of you?” Rick sneered, slipping the machete in the back of his belt. “How gracious.”
“I got a dog, man, please.”
Rick chewed on the inside of his cheek before taking his machete back out again.
The man erupted into more begging and crying as Rick approached him. He let out a short lived scream before looking down to see his hands were now freed and in front of him.
“Wh-”
“Ten seconds.” Rick's revolver felt firm in his grip. “Ten,”
The man stood stunned for a moment, holding his aching wrists, his eyes darting from Rick to the bodies at their feet.
“Nine.” Rick's voice was louder then, like a father giving his child one last warning to start acting straight.
“Eight!”
The man took off through the woods, and there was no reason to count any longer.
You ran your fingers over the cold metal in your hands. It was stunning, something you never would've dreamed of holding before the outbreak. A gold chain, thin but strong. Not dainty enough that it could be broken off with a snag.
Small red beads dangled from the chain, twelve rubies spread out along the length. They looked like little drops of wine.
“Where did you get this?”
It was the first time you'd asked him a question before thanking him for his gifts.
He silently took the bracelet from your hands and clasped it around your wrist, his fingertips ghosting over the veins of your arms.
“In a jewelry box. That neighborhood I stopped at last week.”
You watched his fingers part from your wrist and the dangling rubies sway. You knew it was a lie.
“You ever get stuff like this for anyone else?”
He chuckled and leaned back on the couch, his eyes never leaving your form. “No.”
You looked over your shoulder at him and sighed, unable to keep the smirk from spreading on your face when you saw the way he was looking at you. “You know, I really like sweets too.”
He raised a brow and broke into a grin. “Sweets, of course,right. What, chocolates? Candy?”
“Mhmm. Dark chocolate with sea salt. Or, chocolate with raspberries.” Your mouth watered as you recalled the old luxuries you'd once taken for granted.
“Alright. Noted.”
Being alone with Rick in his house was something that should've scared you. Especially considering what you'd seen in the past, and the darker side of him in bed.
But looking at him in his form fitting white tee-shirt, the fireplace covering him in a warm orange glow, your degenerate lust filled brain made none of that matter.
“C'mere.” His hand beckoned you to him from its spot on the back of the couch.
You hesitated for appearances, not wanting to come off too eager, before eventually giving in and leaning back.
His arm slipped from the couch above you and wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into his embrace.
You rested your cheek on his chest and inhaled the smell of his cologne. It was deep and dark, you recognized it as his bottle of “Leather and Embers”, whatever the hell that meant. As you savored the smell he pressed his face into your scalp and soaked in your smells, rose and eucalyptus shampoo, wisteria lotion. It was so light and feminine and so utterly you that just the smell made his dick twitch in his jeans.
“Gonna go on a supply run with a few others tomorrow. Need some ammo. You wanna join me?”
“Depends.” You pretended to think about it for a second, a playful smirk on your lips. “Who’s all going?”
Rick hummed and squinted, playing along with your thoughtful act. “Me, Carol, Aaron, Glenn, Maggie. Daryl might come, hasn’t decided yet.” You snorted at the idea of Daryl ever turning down work.
“All of us gonna fit in that itty-bitty car?”
“Taking separate cars. Cover more area that way.” His hand gave your shoulder a slight squeeze and you looked up to see him leaning in for a kiss. You met him halfway and smiled against his lips as his other arm wrapped around you.
You grinned, full of pride, as you walked through the gap between two small houses to find Rick, holding two ammunition boxes. One was half full of buckshot shells, the other completely full of 9mm ammo.
He started searching the first house on the block, so he should be at the third right about-
You froze in the doorway as you took in the scene in front of you.
You could see the back of Rick standing in the center of the dining room, the bodies of one man and two women laid across the long table in front of him.
He was taking earbuds out from his ears and putting them into his back pocket, his hands so covered in blood that his fingers seemed to melt together.
You must've made a noise because he turned around.
What was once a look of serenity instantly turned like the tides of an ocean. His eyes no longer resembled a warm blue sky, instead a clash of dark and stormy gray.
His lips moved in the form of your name, but you didn't react.
You looked from body to body, taking in the gruesome ways they'd been killed. One woman had her throat slit with so much force that you could see bone.
Another had countless stab wounds in her chest and a few on her neck. It looked angry, and much more violent than anything you'd ever been unfortunate enough to see.
The man had been gutted, his organs sloshing out of him to lay between his body and what you assumed to be the body of his wife.
Your body didn't react when his hands grabbed your shoulders. You didn't even notice that he'd approached you, his hands raised, his knees slightly bent to make himself appear smaller, less of a threat.
When he turned you around to lead you out of the house you caught a glimpse of three chocolate bars in a plastic bag sitting at the front door.
“I need you to look at me.”
You blinked and took in your new surroundings. You were sitting on the hood of your car, his bloodied hands on your knees. The contrast of deep red against your skin had a groan catching in your throat.
Rick's voice snapped your name and you looked to his face. He looked prepared, as if he'd imagined this scenario countless times before.
“What you just saw-”
“I know.”
“No, you don't. I had to, I-”
“Rick.” The coldness of your voice had him forgetting the way he'd been frustrated at you for interrupting him again. “You don't lie to me. Not me.”
His face softened, but he felt an uncomfortable tightening in his throat and chest. He nodded, his eyes falling away from yours to look at your knees.
When he saw the blood he drew his hands away as if he'd been stung.
“You killed them and you liked it.”
As quick as a snake his hand shot out and grabbed the base of your throat. His eyes were back on yours now, freezing you with a cold stare. “It’d be in your best interest to forget what you saw here.”
Your body didn't react the way either of you expected it to. You grabbed at his wrist and let out a whimper, your thighs clenching together so hard they trembled.
His grip loosened as he saw your form tremble under him, not from fear, but arousal. He furrowed his brows and looked back to your eyes, studying each and every flicker in them.
It was an unsteady standoff, neither of you knowing which move to make next. He experimented and tightened his hand again, earning another whimper from your lips.
He took it a step further and with his other bloodied hand, he slipped his fingers between your knees, gently spreading them apart.
With your thighs spread he filled the gap with his waist. He hooked two fingers in the belt loops of your shorts and tugged you down the hood closer to him, your pelvis bumping against the semi he had growing in his jeans.
Rick groaned at the contact and leaned in to plant his face in the crook of your neck, his hand departing from your throat to trail down your chest. He toyed with the gold coin of your necklace, rubbing his fingertips over the warm metal.
“Rick-”
“No, shh-shh-shh, you were being so good.” He groaned, his jeans rubbing your thighs as he softly pushed against you.
“I just, a shower, let's wait-”
He growled in your ear and squeezed your thighs so tightly you let out a yelp. “No, think I'll have you right here.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine and before you could react, he pushed you flat on your back.
You were finally there, your muscles relaxing and your eyes closing, ready to surrender to Rick and let him have his way. But as always, something had to go wrong.
The gurgling sound of a walker snapped you from your daze.
Rick pulled away from you and used the machete from his belt to take out the first two.
“Rick!” You called in a nervous voice, your eyes locked on the group of walkers behind the car.
“Shit. Alright, get in.” He cursed and opened the passenger door for you. You slid into the seat, pulling your knees back just in time to avoid the heavy metal door being slammed after you.
Your eyes followed Rick round the front of the car. Then, as if he was playing some weird joke, he took his hand back from the door handle and ran back into the house.
“Fuck.” You whispered, watching three walkers follow him to the door. You had your hand on the car door handle, ready to jump out after him and help, but before you could dig out your knife he reappeared in the doorway.
You shook your head when he finally sat down beside you and started the car.
He plopped the bag in your lap and you stared down at it.
The three chocolate bars.
“I know you said dark chocolate, salt and raspberries n’whatnot. But this is all I could find.” He said it like he was apologizing, like he was dissatisfied with his findings.
“Rick, I haven't had chocolate in so long that it could be some nasty rainbow white chocolate with sprinkles and I'd love it. Fuck.” You unwrapped the first bar and snapped off a small square.
As soon as it hit your tongue you moaned, completely forgetting the scene from earlier. It was your favorite type, something you hadn't had in God knows how long.
Rick smiled fondly as you swirled the chocolate around your tongue, looking at you the same way he'd looked at you at dinner, the same way he used to look at Lori.
You were blissfully unaware, your eyes closed as you savored the flavor.
He bit his bottom lip and looked back to the road ahead, slowing down as he passed the road that the others had gone down.
He raised a hand out the open window to Glenn, who'd returned a thumbs up, going inside to gather the others to head back home.
“Want a bite?”
You smiled sweetly as he looked back to you and the open Butterfinger that was in your left hand, your favorite chocolate in your right.
“Indulging ourselves, are we?” He smirked playfully as he took the Butterfinger from you and took a heaping bite. It was so big he'd taken half the bar and you scoffed, smacking his shoulder.
“Geeze! Talk about being indulgent!” You teased and snatched the chocolate back, finishing it off with three more bites.
You ate your sweets in silence, and soon it had turned from a comfortable silence to a thick cloud of tension when you pulled up to the gates of Alexandria.
He called your name and you forced yourself to look at him.
Rick's expression was hard to gauge.
It almost seemed like a mask, now that you'd seen what he was capable of doing, it felt like you were sitting beside a stranger. Your heart sped up, you were suddenly scared of saying or doing the wrong thing, sending him into aggression or something worse.
“Yeah?” Your voice sounded foreign to you. Almost as foreign as the way Rick was looking at you.
He waited a few painfully long moments before the essence of a smirk formed on his lips that were still speckled with blood. “I'm making dinner tonight. You should come.”
You blew out a lungful of air and nodded. “Okay, yeah, I will.”
“Wear somethin’ nice.” His voice was barely a whisper. You didn't have time to ask him to clarify before the gates opened and he drove you in.
You felt a bit ridiculous in your dark blue dress. It was extremely snug, almost uncomfortable, ending right at your knees, drawing attention to the curve and dip of your hips and waist. There was no one else for dinner, thank god, because you felt seconds away from a panic attack.
Fettuccine noodles with Carol's homemade alfredo sauce. Despite your painful anxiety you wolfed the creamy noodles down, along with a heaping glass of dark red wine.
It was painfully tense. You found yourself wondering how the car ride home had been completely fine, it hadn't been awkward at all, not until you pulled up to the gates. It might have been the adrenaline and shock.
Now it had worn off and you were finishing your second glass of wine, praying for the buzz to kick in so you wouldn’t feel like you were on the verge of an anxiety attack anymore.
“Can we talk?” His voice made you jump. You looked up from your empty plate to his face, which had been thoroughly cleaned of the blood from earlier.
You didn't respond verbally. You gave a small nod and he inhaled deeply, his eyes falling from your face to the table.
After a moment he looked back up to you.
“I need to know you won't… you won't tell anyone. Things are still pretty tense here, these people already see me as someone to watch out for. I don't need them fearing me.”
“Fear could be a good thing.” You don't know why you said it.
He managed a slight smile, clasping his hands together in front of his chin. “Yeah. It can be. But not this type of fear.”
“So what are you? Jack the ripper of the apocalypse?”
Rick cleared his throat and sat back in his chair. He folded his arms across his chest, his fingers tapping on his biceps, covered in a thick black sweater.
“Alright. Nevermind.” You sighed. You finished off your wine and scratched your chin absentmindedly, still looking at his face. “How long have you been doing this?”
“Long time.”
You managed to hide your shock, and nodded. “Before the outbreak?”
He nodded, his eyes not leaving the silverware crossed over his empty plate.
He didn't look guilty or ashamed like one logically should be. A bit uncomfortable, uncertain, a hint of worry and dread. You knew he was praying this conversation would go well and he wouldn't have to do anything devastating to secure keeping his position in the group as the fearless, honorable leader.
“Did Lori know?”
Now he looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed. “No.” Of course she wouldn't have, what a stupid question.
“Okay.” It was quiet until you finally gained the courage to address the elephant in the room. “Rick, are any of us in danger?”
Your question caused a drastic change in his demeanor. He leaned forward with an expression that was a mix of hurt and assurance, and you already knew the answer.
“No, of course not.” He breathed, his hands tentatively crossing the table. “I would never hurt any of you people. You're my family. All of you. Even those,” he waved a hand over his shoulder, “stuck up pricks Deanna led.”
You wanted to believe him. You had no choice, honestly, you had no other option. You knew Rick was a good leader, even if he made rash and emotional decisions. He always listened to the opinions and advice of others, he always took their says into account. If he hadn't done it this far, there was no reason to believe he'd start doing it now that you knew.
You weren't justifying it by any means. What he did was vile, monstrous, egregious. Nothing would ever change that. It just wasn't the old world anymore, you had bigger problems to worry about, as ironic as it sounded.
“Okay.”
You closed your eyes as he rounded the table and put his hands on your shoulders. You wished you could just turn your brain off, wipe your memory and forget, and your stomach churned with nausea. Not at the memory or knowledge of his little weekend hobby, but at the realization that it didn't bother you as much as it should've.
“Can I make it up to you?” His breath warmed your ear as his palms slid up and down your biceps.
God, you were sick. You were disgusting.
“Yeah.”
Carl was home, and so were Carol, Michonne and Daryl, so you led him back to your house across the street.
Your house was almost an exact mirror image of his, same porch, same paint, same layout and everything. In fact, your bedroom window was a straight shot across from his.
You shivered, remembering the times you'd play with him through your window, randomly flipping him off or giving him a thumbs down for no reason at all. It was so innocent.
A tingle spread through your core knowing the man who'd make silly gestures and faces at you through his window at night just to see you laugh was the same man who had gutted humans for kicks.
You stood in your room, looking at his black window across the street as his hands worked to free you from your tight dress. He chuckled at the sight of your ass stuffed in the fabric, running his hands down your waist to grab the bottom of your dress and pull up.
“Where'd you get this thing?” He mused, attempting to fix your hair from the battle of pulling it over your head.
“Tara. She found it on a run, said the color suited me.” You snorted.
His arms wrapped around your now bare body, hands cupping the soft flesh of your breasts and kneading.
“Hmm.” His face nuzzled in the back of your hair, inhaling your clean scent and enjoying the way it felt against his skin. You were just his polar opposite, so soft, sweet, where he was hard and rugged. So kind, patient, his pretty feminine contrast.
You were trying so hard to hold it together and not beg him to fuck you the same way he'd fucked you the other night. You craved it.
Ever since he had you that night you craved it. Craved the raw pain and utter helplessness. You craved more.
“Rick.” You whispered, placing your hands over his, their position still tender and gentle over your chest.
“Hmm?” The sudden feeling of his knee between your thighs made you moan. He pressed it up higher, pushing firm against your panties, the soft gray pair that was far too tiny to wear in any other scenario.
He grinned against the back of your neck at the realization, you'd put these on just for him.
“Speak, sweetheart.” He breathed, parting your hair to kiss your neck.
Rick was doing a good job of making it hard to remember what you were planning on saying in the first place. He kissed down your neck, his hands sliding down your torso to rest on your hips to guide you forward towards your bed.
“Got you something.” He muttered into your neck before he pulled back to push you on the bed.
He dipped his fingers into the front pocket of his jeans, and pulled out a folded napkin. He glanced up at you, his eyes almost looking hesitant.
You swallowed hard and watched him unfold the napkin, his movements slow, until he knelt on the floor in front of you and showed you his gift.
“Oh.” You couldn't think of what to say. Earrings, small orbs that were a deep red color. On either side of the orb sat two diamonds, much smaller than the rubies.
“You like ‘em?” He urged, looking up at you, eager, desperate for your approval. Like his life depended on you putting them on.
“Of course I do.” You nodded, and took them from the napkin in his open hands.
His lips bloomed into a smile as you put them on. His eyes followed each move you made.
The second you put the last one on he was on you, his lips on yours, a hand on your throat giving a gentle squeeze that sent excitement fluttering in your stomach.
You groaned, tilting your head back to give him better access. Wordlessly begging him to squeeze harder.
He didn't get the hint, only dipping his head down to kiss the bottom of your chin.
“Rick.” You drawled, your head dizzy and light from his touches and kisses.
“Hmm.”
“You know how,” you sucked in a sharp breath as he nipped the skin below your ear, immediately going to kiss the reddening spot in an apology. “The other night you- you were rough?”
He pulled back, his hand relaxing around your throat, his fingers unfolding to simply press against the side of your neck.
There was a look of sympathy, regret maybe. He nodded, his eyes soft and locked on yours. “I shouldn't have, I'm sorry. You're just…” he sighed, the sound coming out with a shudder. “Was it too much?”
“No.” You immediately answered, shaking your head. “I liked it.” Your words had an obvious affect on him. The sympathy was gone, completely replaced with building excitement.
“I want that again.”
He closed his eyes. His fingers twitched against the side of your neck before slowly bending back into a firm grip around your throat.
“Don't, don't hold back this time, please.”
When his eyes opened you got that same shock of fear you felt the first time, but unlike the first time there was no uncertainty.
You whimpered when you felt his hold on your neck loosen. “I can take it.”
He took his bottom lip between his teeth, his jaw flexing as he bit down. Putting on a good show, pretending he had to think about it. Pretending he was cautious. He knew what he would look like if he dove right in without hesitation. He'd look like the selfish, self indulgent man he truly was when it came to sex.
He raised his eyes to yours, his lips splitting into a grin. You mirrored his expression, your heart hammering against your chest, grinning as he slid on top of you and onto the bed.
“Tell me to stop an’ I will.” He reminded.
“Not gonna happen.”
He chuckled, low and deep in his chest. His lips found their place back on your neck, and his hips between your thighs.
You groaned the second you felt his dick through his jeans pressed up against you. The sensation was rough, almost painful the way he ground against your thin panties.
The feeling of your nipples being pinched had you squeaking in surprise, your back arching. There'd been no warm up, just an immediate burning pinch.
Then a twist.
“Oh, god!” You groaned deeply, your eyes clenching shut. The pain radiated much further than just your nipples, shooting down your breast tissue, almost all the way over your entire chest.
“Sounds so good.” He muttered, planting his feverish lips against the cheeks of your scrunched up face. “Such pretty noises.”
You put on a brave face, keeping your mouth tightly shut as he tested your limits, switching between pinching and twisting your sore buds.
He was impressed. You whined and groaned, but you never told him to stop. He released them and you sucked in a breath, your back relaxing back into the mattress.
“You have no fuckin’ clue,” Rick spoke, kissing down your chest. “How sexy you are. How sexy that was.”
You wrapped your fingers in his curls as he kissed your sides, clenching his hair in your fists when he opened his mouth and gave a hard bite on your waist right below your ribs.
“Fuck!” You gasped. Your legs instinctively bent at the knees, clenching around his torso under his armpits.
“Too much?” He hummed, releasing you from his teeth. He rubbed a finger along the bite mark and you winced, but shook your head.
Rick couldn't help but chuckle at the look on your poor pretty face. “Don't feel like you've got to impress me, sweetheart.”
“No.” You shook your head again, quicker this time. “Not that.”
“Good.” He went back to working you over, planting kisses down to your thighs.
Your body was beginning to relax at the gentle touches of his lips on you. But true to his nature, Rick ripped that feeling away, sending electricity through your heart and heat through your core when he sunk his teeth into the inside of your upper thigh.
Right below your panties he bit, over and over, sometimes just a nip, then a rough, teeth-gritting bite on the other thigh.
You were unbelievably wet. Your hole burned, desperate to have something inside it, anything.
His fingers grabbed your panties and tugged them down, and you got exactly what you'd prayed for.
The middle finger, his longest, slipped into you and pulled out a moan from your lips. He watched your face as he curled it, each curl and drag making you come more and more undone.
He'd be content to finger you for hours. Watching the glint of red on your ears when you'd turn your head, or the glimmer of gold under your collarbone when you'd arch your back. He almost came when he saw your fingers wrap around the golden pendant.
You were having the time of your life, squirming on your bed as he knelt between your knees and made you come.
“Oh, fuck, Rick!” You gasped, bending your knees again, wanting to wrap your legs around something, a waist, a head, but they were empty and you just slammed your knees together when the cord in your belly snapped.
“Shit.” Rick cursed, watching your face as you came. The faces you made, it made his chest tighten and the smallest, faintest, tiniest lump form in his throat. You were too beautiful. Too perfect, covered in his trophies, his trophy. All his work in the last year perfectly laid on your naked body.
You moaned behind closed lips, your eyes finally opening as your orgasm died down.
Your stomach flipped at the sight of Rick sitting there, staring at you. His eyes flicked up to yours when he saw them open. His shoulders rose and fell heavily, his nostrils ever so slightly flared.
“Rick?” You breathed his name, blinking away the fog in your eyes.
The image of him spreading your knees with his hands, those beautiful big hands, and crawling up your body set your core on fire again. You felt more wetness leaking out of you as he pushed his hips back between yours, forcing a soft moan from your throat.
He fumbled with his belt, leaving it through the loops, knowing you liked the clinking sound it made when he fucked you.
Your heart leapt into your throat when you saw the first flash of his dick. It looked much darker in the dim lighting of your room and the sight of his thick pubes made your stomach flip again. It was so masculine, so primal, it drove you insane.
“C'mere.” Rick huffed before kissing you again, tearing your gaze away from his dick.
You hummed into his lips, wrapping your fingers back in his cold hair. You'd succeed in making his slicked back hair messy, and thick curls fell down his forehead and tickled yours.
He smelt so good, his shampoo and his cologne. His breath as well, which led you to believe he'd brushed his teeth when he used your bathroom. With your toothbrush.
Even though he was sliding the tip of his dick around your slippery pussy, the thought of him using your toothbrush made you blush.
“Mmm, hah-” He grunted as he pushed into you, spewing out a string of curses as your walls squeezed him the way he'd squeezed your neck.
You felt a bit of pride at his reaction, and bit back a smile when he pressed his forehead against your shoulder to steady himself.
The feeling of his heavy cock sitting unmoving inside you finally sets your mind into a blank state. You breathed through your lips, slow and deep, trying to control your racing heart. The anticipation was killing you.
“Did you mean it?” He spoke, the sound of his low voice startling you.
When you didn't immediately answer he rolled his hips, and you moaned.
“When you said you can take it?” He continued, his hands moving from their place on your hips up your sides.
“Yes.” You answered with an eager nod.
He breathed out, and grinned, looking down at you with a sleazy and cocky expression. “Should've fucked you a long time ago.”
Before you could agree he pulled out an inch, and slowly pushed back in. You whimpered and tilted your hips upwards, already becoming greedy and impatient.
He teased you like that for a while, barely pulling out, slowly pushing back in, and it soon had you a whiny mess.
“Harder.” You whined, your fingers curling repeatedly around a lock of his hair.
“Yeah?” He hummed with a smile, pulling back out a little further, but still pushing back in just as slow. He pulled back out and caught you off guard by slamming back into you, making you see stars and birds.
“You like that? Huh?” He drawled, pulling back out even further, fucking his dick into you with another brutal thrust. "This what you want?"
You didn't respond with words, only nodding and moaning.
The quick and rough snatch of your chin in his fingers had you sobering up real quick. He forced you to look at him, his pupils blown, his open lips in a breathy smile. “Asked you a question.”
“Yes. I love it. I love it Rick.” You babbled, nodding faster. “Please don't stop.”
He dug his thumbnail into your chin, holding your face in place as he thrusted into you. His index finger slipped between your lips and forced your mouth open. Before you could react he was spitting on your tongue, and using his finger to slide down the back of it.
You gagged, a short and easy gag that wasn't uncomfortable. You could feel his dick twitch inside you at the sight and sound of you gagging on his finger.
He fucked you normally for a minute, his pace rough and deep, but still not fast enough for your liking.
“Sit up.” He grunted. You don't know why he even told you to because he was already moving you for him, grabbing you by your hips and moving until he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his feet planted on the floor and you in his lap.
The new angle had his dick much deeper. If he was only a few millimeters longer it would've been unbearable, but the pain was sharp and you loved it.
“So pretty. Pretty girl.” He cooed, squeezing the flesh of your hips as he rolled his hips up against you.
The image of him still fully dressed and you completely naked on his lap brought you closer to orgasm. As much as you loved it he was getting hot, and he had to take his jacket off and throw it behind you.
The white T-shirt that was a little too small was just as hot.
You grabbed fistfuls of his shirt so you wouldn't fall backwards and moved on him, lazily raising your hips in a way that complimented his own movements.
Each time you moved back down he'd move up, forcing himself as deep as possible, deep bolts of pleasure shooting through your core each time you sank back down.
Oh, finally, finally.
He picked up the pace.
He gripped your hips and started moving you on his own, bouncing you up and down on his length.
“Oh, god.” You blurted, tightening your grip on the front of his shirt. His rough mound of pubes dragged against your clit each time he tugged you down against him, and you were close.
“Gonna -”
He quickly cut you off. “Gonna cum for me?” He breathed, and one hand left your hip. He dropped you down on his dick and started using the strength in his thighs and core to fuck up into you.
You didn't have time to wonder where his hands went before his left one was in your hair, and his right was around your throat.
He squeezed, much harder than before. Your face immediately felt tight and hot, and you had to fully open your mouth to gasp down air. Thankfully he was only cutting off blood flow, and you could still breathe.
Not that it mattered much, because he quickly took your breath away with a slap to your face.
You came hard and with a sharp cry, your thighs squeezing his waist as your hips jerked in his lap.
“That's right.” Rick hissed, and wrapped your hair around his fist and yanked.
You didn't think it was impossible to reach a second high in the same orgasm, but you did. Your head spun as your body trembled against him. You couldn't process much of what happened, your mind was too fuzzy, your body buzzing to the point of shivering, twitching, and he slapped you again.
You cried out, your eyes snapping open to find his face.
He looked so beautiful. Face red in the dim lighting, that sexy stubble, his eyes dark with dilation. He looked just as ruined as you, but he was holding it together far better.
“S’it okay?” He slurred, his movements slowing as he took a moment to rub your red cheek.
You never in your entire fucking life thought you'd enjoy being slapped on the face. And certainly not by a man. But you didn't just enjoy it, you loved it, you loved the feeling of Rick hurting you and getting turned on by it. You loved his wide hand making your cheek burn.
“Stings a little.” You admitted, your voice raw from your vocal orgasm. “But, I liked it.”
“It stings?” He grinned lazily, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. “Was being gentle.”
You groaned, jerking your hips forward and earning a low grunt from Rick.
“Told you not to be gentle.”
“You're right.” He leaned in and kissed you, deep and firm. He pulled back, but not before catching your bottom lip in his teeth and pulling you back with him.
He rolled you over on your stomach and pushed back into you, taking a moment to kiss your shoulders and neck before getting back to screwing your brains out.
You pushed your ass into him, eager to feel him as deep as you had when you were in his lap. It worked, the tip of his dick slipped past the curve of your walls and rubbed against the soft spot inside you.
You should've pissed before sex, but it was too late for that now. You'd have to wait. Besides, the feeling was a guilty pleasure, something you'd feel embarrassed to admit, feeling him fuck into you when you needed to pee made each thrust feel ten times more intense.
He wrapped your hair around his fist again, his movements extremely deliberate and precise, the same precision as braiding your hair.
Rick used the grip on your hair to yank your head to the side. You let out a little yelp, and his other hand slid under you, finding your throat again.
“How's it feel?” he lowered himself down to your ear. He held your head in place with your hair, his grip tightening and pulling every so often, bringing sharp tingles down your scalp and neck.
“Having my hand around your throat.” He breathed. He kissed around the back of your neck, the tips of your shoulders, his hips slamming down against your upturned ass.
“Feels so good.” You rasped, pushing yourself back into him to prove your point. You shoved your pillow to the side so your nose wasn't covered anymore, enjoying the feeling of air on the side of your hot face.
“Is that right?” His teeth dug into the skin above your shoulder blades. "Love these hands?"
You couldn't answer. He'd tightened his grip around your throat and it wasn't just blood cut off from your brain anymore.
“You know what I've done with these hands?” He groaned after you clenched down around him at his words. The feeling you got and the reaction you gave to his words was morally reprehensible. It was fucking disgusting.
“Know how many?”
You should've felt ashamed that you came after that. But you didn't. Not at that moment, at least. Your walls squeezed around him and you tried to moan, but it was strangled out of you.
It felt like seeing God, or something holy and ethereal. Your vision was flashes of white and black, flickering like strobe lights, your head felt like it was about to explode with pressure. Your eyes burned, but your pussy felt amazing.
All you could do was grip onto the sheets beside your head and enjoy it, and pray you didn't pass out and miss the best post-orgasm glow of your life.
Rick let out this strangled groan behind your head, his brutal bulldozing of your spasming cunt growing sloppy. He squeezed your throat harder as he came into you, fucking each drop back up inside you as he fell down from his high. He drew out every single wave of pleasure, even to the point of it becoming uncomfortable for him, his dick burning and tingling with overstimulation.
His hand left your throat, and your head throbbed as the blood and oxygen rushed back up into it. You groaned, soft and pained, pressing your forehead into the mattress in an attempt to minimize the pain.
You couldn't really focus on it, thankfully, because the feeling of his dick dragging down and out of your trembling walls was too jarring.
“Fuck.” You grunted, your waist moving to the side to get his dick away from where he had it sitting against your pussy.
If you thought he was sweet after the first time, then he’s a bonafide angel this time.
He turned you over and sat you up, brushing your damp hair away from your sweaty face.
“Hey.” His palms smoothed down the sides of your head, fixing your wild hair. “You okay?”
“Mhmm.” You managed a very weak and crooked grin.
He smiled in relief, and swiped his tongue under your nose, wiping away the small drop of blood that peeked out.
After cleaning you up and helping you to the bathroom he slipped your favorite night dress over your head, not bothering with underwear.
The post orgasm clarity was trying its damndest to make you feel like an awful piece of shit. Knowing what Rick had done to people who didn't deserve it. It was something you could never be okay with, but his lips kissing over every bite and bruise he'd given you did a good job taking your mind off it.
“Beautiful.” He whispered against the bite marks on your neck and chest, planting another kiss on the next mark. “Look at you.”
You knew you probably looked like you'd just crawled out of a car wreck. Your hair was still messy even though he'd tried to fix it, and your neck was a whole new problem. Bruises from his teeth and hands. Blood blisters from where he'd bitten down way too hard in some spots. Even though no vessels had burst in your eyes they were still red, and that wouldn't go away overnight. There were more turtlenecks in your future.
It was like art to Rick. You looked like art. He kissed your rings. His hands holding yours felt like they belonged to a completely different person, so gentle and light, as if you'd suddenly turned into glass and the slightest pressure would break you.
He kissed your throat, the bottom of your chin, and your swollen lips. There was the faintest twinge of purple on your bottom lip, a line fitting the exact measurement of his top left incisor.
“First time I've ever been fucked like that.”
Rick chuckled, raising his head from your lips to look down at your blissed out face.
“First time I've fucked like that.” He kissed your cheek before finally laying down beside you.
It surprised you, even though it shouldn't have. You were the first person he'd fucked since Lori, and she seemed like the type to blanch over simple restraints like fuzzy handcuffs, no disrespect intended.
“Is that what you think about?” You whispered, feeling your already burning cheeks get hotter. “When you're… Solo…”
He let out a gruff chuckle. “Yeah.” He laid out his arm for you to move into him, and you did. You pressed against his side and rested your head on his chest, inhaling the scent of his deep sweat and the remnants of his cologne.
“Is that all?” You asked, trying to sound confident. “Or, was there more?”
“More I wanted to try?” He humored you. You knew he was exhausted and just wanted to sleep, but the urge to know more was gnawing at you. When you nodded, he tilted his head to look up at the ceiling, which was now black from the lights being turned off.
“Yeah. There's more.” He finally answered.
You forced yourself to stop asking questions. You nodded against his chest and pressed yourself tighter against his side, nuzzling your head in an attempt to get more comfortable.
“Can talk about it later, if you want.”
You smiled. “Yeah. I do.”
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