#I’m hurtin a little

[demigodofhoolemere]

I did not know what I was getting myself into

[olliethewallflower]

y’all ever throw up so bad it feels like you’re changing into a werewolf?

[eiightysixbaby]

older!eddie with reader who’s never taken a cock as big as his. he’s used to people telling him he’s too big, to go slow, that they can’t take it. and so he’s trying to be so careful with you, but you’re relentless in your determination to take him.

his fat, leaking tip presses inside, spreading you open as your jaw goes slack. he pushes maybe an inch or two in, but you’re so damn tight around him and he knows it has to be hurting you. he starts to ease up, to pull out a little, but your thighs lock around his waist, caging him desperately in.

“n-no, ed please. please don’t stop, keep going, need you to keep going,” you babble, your pretty eyes glossy as they plead with him.

“christ, sweetheart,” he grunts. “it’s hurtin’ you, don’t wanna hurt you.”

“i don’t care, please,” you beg, “can’t you feel how wet i am for you? need you so bad.”

he thinks he’s gone delirious with the things you’re saying, his tongue feeling like it’s going to flop out of of mouth, like he’s some dog drooling over a treat. he feels like a damn teenager, his hormones on overdrive. he can feel how wet you are, the hand that’s been gripping his shaft brushing against your slick folds to prove it.

“okay, okay, sweet thing. ‘m gonna take care of you,” he promises, his cock intruding further.

you’re whimpering pitifully beneath him, wriggling your hips for more friction, desperate to have more and unwilling to take no for an answer. he could split you entirely in two and it wouldn’t phase you. in his entire life he’s never had someone this needy for his cock, this hellbent on stuffing all of him inside, and he’s struck dumb at the fact that the person who is is you, this sweet young thing.

he can feel your walls clenching around him, relaxing and then tightening once more. “baby,” he pants, his nose brushing against your cheek as he presses a ghost of a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “you sure you can take it all? it’s okay if you can’t,” he reassures, but you’re frankly hearing none of it.

“eddie,” you whine. “I want it all, I’m gonna take it,” you insist. “please,” you sound as if you may cry, “just ruin me. don’t care if I can’t walk for days, give it to me.”

his head spins, his brow furrowing as he presses himself deeper, his cock snug inside of your warm walls. you cry out, biting down on his shoulder, nails digging into the tattooed skin of his back to brace yourself.

“god, you’re such a desperate little thing,” he says, his voice deep and hoarse, strained with the way he holds himself back from pounding into you.

you’re nearly sobbing when you speak again, “make it fit, ed, need it to.”

he finally secures himself all the way in, to the balls, leaning down to kiss your neck as your cunt throbs around him. “there you go, baby. that’s all of it. y’want me to make you cum around this cock?” he asks, the low rumble of his voice making you ache.

“yes,” you say softly, lip wobbling.

“what was that? couldn’t hear you, baby.”

“yes, eddie!” you cry, nearly aggressive in tone. “make me cum, over and over, don’t care if it fucking wrecks me.”

and it’s the last confirmation eddie needs before he makes you see stars.

[darnell-la]

Logan smut w/ a partner playing “hard to get”

Like pretending not to be in the mood as if she isn’t soaking wet for him

note: needy Logan Howlett y’all… Can’t get enough of him!

———

“C’mere, bub,” Logan spoke into y/n’s neck as he pulled her closer to him. Y/n groaned under her breath, softly elbowing his chest as she kept moving her ass up against his crotch.

“Baby, stop that,” Logan giggled in her neck as he grabbed her waist tightly, making her hips move how he wanted them to. “Got me so hard, I can’t even go to sleep,” Logan whispered.

“Logan, not right now. Tryna sleep,” y/n whined, keeping her eyes closed as his clothes cock rubbed on her ass cheek. Wearing a thing to bed was a routine when she wanted to tease him.

“C’mon, baby, don’t be like that tonight. I’m hurtin,” he admitted, feeling his cock harder with a leaky tip. She’s been moving around in bed for the last ten minutes, and though she does this a lot, he always thinks it’s not on purpose.

“I’m tired, Logan,” Y/n said as she stopped moving her hips. “Okay, okay, baby,” Logan felt let down, but stayed spooning her, hoping the list that built would go away over time.

After lying for maybe thirty minutes, he couldn’t help himself. It’s been too long, and he felt a bit of pain. He needed to at least stick it in.

Logan slowly and quietly pulled Y/n’s thong to the side, lifting his head up to make sure she was still asleep, and she was. So he thought.

The man grabbed his cock and shifted in bed until his tip lined up either heat. The man let out a slow groan, feeling better steady, but he needed more.

Logan pushed through the tight folds, struggled since her legs were closed, but made it through. “Fuck,” the man let out as he began moving his hips.

“Oh my his, Logan!” Y/n faked being upset as one hand gripped her waist and the other stroked the top of her head. “Ssh, baby — Just quick. Already gif me so close,” the man whispered as she pushed at his stomach.

“I said I was tired, Logan,” y/n said, barely using her strength. She always felt good when he slipped into her in the middle of the night. Her cunt would clench him in an instant.

“Baby, you know I can’t resist it. So fuckin’ tight and wet. I can smell you. Every night I fuckin’ smell your sweet juice,” the man spoke in her neck before giving her sloppy kisses.

Logan used the hand on her waist to pull her into his thrusts, causing small claps to come from under the covers.

“C’mon, just give me one, baby. One little orgasm and I’ll be done,” the man said, knowing his girl doesn’t like to wet the sheets. He’ll rub a dry one out of her.

“Spread 'em, baby,” Logan’s hand traveled down to her heat, trying to squeeze through her thighs. “I’m tired,” y/n tried saying without a whine, but failed. He felt amazing.

“Baby, open your legs,” Logan said in a more demanding tone. He loves his girl, but what he says goes, and right now, she isn’t listening.

“Mm mhm,” y/n shook her head, wanting him to take her organs from her. “Fuckin’ hell,” the man cussed as he parted her leg by himself and began rubbing at her bud harshly.

“Don’t know if it’s because you’re half in your sleep, but you fuckin’ listen when I tell you something, bub,” Logan said, now tugging on her hair he was just stroking.

“If I wanna fill this cunt before I sleep, ima fill it, do you understand?” The man asked her, making her nod quickly as her cunt throbbed. She could. It never lasted long once Logan handled her like this.

“Ah huh — Wanna listen now because you feel good? Flickin’ your bean so good, you can barely speak?” Logan asked as he looked over her head, seeing her eyes roll.

“Yeah, I know, baby. So fuckin’ good,” Logan snapped his hips, feeling her legs finally stiffen under his. “Let go, baby. Flutter around my cock. Need a feel you squeeze the cum outta me,”

Y/n’s let out a broken whine, finally cumming with a shake. “That’s it, that’s it,” Logan repeated, fucking her harder to chance after his own climax.

“Keep it up! Keep fuckin’ squeezing me!” The man demanded as his cock twitched. “Fuck, yes, baby,” the man cussed into her neck as he spilled in her.

Logan’s hands traveled to her stomach, gripping it tightly to pull her into him. He wanted to make sure he came deep. Every time they fucked, he wanted it deep.

After a good minute of Logan growling and telling Y/n how good she was for him, he pulled out and pulled her panties back in place.

Y/n slowly turned around, sore and filled. She placed her hand on the man’s chest and gave him a long passionate kiss.

“You’re so needy, Logan,” y/n giggled, making him let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah, I just- I just need you a lot. You’re so good to me, y/n,” Logan said as his hand rested on her cheek, rubbing her skin.

“You’re better to me,” she smiled, making him shake his head slightly before going into how much better she is to him, and how he needs her to love his own life. All while rubbing her body, taking in every inch of her that is his. He was a lucky man.

[empresskylo]

headcanons for the cod men if they found out you were a virgin... i promise this is not self indulgent 🫣

𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 includes: ghost, price, soap, alejandro, konig, and gaz. afab!reader. female pet names used. reader refers to self as a woman.

GHOST *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♡ ok ok ok, he would have never thought he’d want to be specifically with a virgin. like it never really crossed his mind before now, but he just assumed he’d always like being with someone more experienced. he likes a quick hook up. doesn’t have the time to be all gentle and soft and caring for someone who's never done it before, ya know? not that he's an asshole or anything, but he never thought he'd be the right person to take someone's virginity.

♡ but when you tell him you’re a virgin, something stirs inside him. he doesn’t mind. not one bit. if anything, he actually gets a little giddy, wanting to be the one who shows you how it’s done.

♡ and he ends up being rather sweet about it. he goes slow. he takes his time. he spends a good amount of time prepping you. “jus’ lay back, sweetheart. gotta make sure you’re good n’ ready to take me.”

♡ when it finally comes down to it, he’s easy to edge into you. you grip his shoulders tightly, squeezing your eyes shut. “gotta talk to me, love. gotta know i’m not hurtin’ you.” you nod and look up at him. “i’m okay. keep going. please.” he kisses your lips and continues in. after a few painstaking moments, “alright. i’m halfway. jus’ a lil more.” “only halfway?! jesus fucking—“ ghost laughs, his hand caressing your face and tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. when he’s finally fully seated, he groans, fisting the sheets beside your head to keep himself from rutting into full force.

♡ “ah. you okay, pet?” “y-yes. are you all the way in?” “mhm” “okay. just… give me a moment.” “take your time, love. we got all night.” you let yourself adjust for several moments. “can you move, now?” he kisses you, slowly dragging himself halfway out and then pushing back into you, making you both gasp into each other’s mouths. "you're so fuckin' tight," he groans as he tries to take his time. he doesn't want to hurt you.

♡ and he knows the rumor that women don't usually orgasm their first time, so he wanted to make sure you came at least twice before he shoved his cock in you. he wants you to associate this with a positive experience.

♡ and he tries his hardest to make you feel good too. he begins to rub your clit as he thrusts and you moan loudly. he grins. "you like that, princess?" you nod your head vigorously. and sure enough, he's able to make you come around his cock and he swears that was some of the best sex of his life. it wasn't the fact that you were a virgin, it was the trust and the intimacy of it that made this so good for him. he never thought he'd care for things like that until now.

PRICE *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♡ price doesn't really mind either way, but he was definitely surprised when you told him -- he couldn't believe someone as beautiful as you had never slept with anyone. but he's honored that you'd trust him enough to experience that with him.

♡ he kisses you and lays you down on his bed, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. "jus' let me take care of you, love," he coos. you bite your lip and nod. he starts by going down on you, making you come on his tongue like he has before. then he's back above you, wanting your first time to be in missionary, making you as relaxed as possible.

♡ he even made it all sweet and lit some candles (":

♡ he constantly is getting consent and checking in on you. "you feelin' okay?" "jus' tell me to stop if you don't like it." "want me to keep goin'?" "tell me what you want, sweetheart." "this feels good, yeah?"

♡ when he's fully inside you, he strokes your hair and kisses you multiple times. "see, wasn't so bad," he teases gently.

♡ with price, it's really not awkward at all. he doesn't let it be. he's so sweet and considerate the whole time. when he's thrusting inside you, he checks to make sure he's not going too hard.

♡ and he knows the sex will only get better, so he tells you not to worry if you don't finish alongside him. and you don't finish with him, but he makes sure to get you off after.

♡ he holds himself inside you after he comes, grunting and panting above you. then he looks down at you. "i wanna feel you come on my cock, love." you look a bit confused and he starts rubbing your clit, keeping himself planted inside you. with the pressure of the situation over, you're much more relaxed and apt to orgasm. so it doesn't take you long to spasm around him, and he fucking loves it. "god, you feel amazing, princess." and he looks at you with such admiration as you catch your breath and come down from your high.

♡ "it will only get better from here," he teases.

♡ after he pulls out and gets up, he scoops you up too, making you squeal. he carries the two of you to the bathroom to shower and clean up. he washes your hair. helps you put your clothes on (making sure it's his stuff you're wearing) and pulls you into bed with him, his arm wrapped around you.

SOAP *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♡ johnny has no issue with it at all. he really thinks nothing of it. he didn't care if you were a virgin or not, so when you tell him, all it does is lets him know he needs to be a bit slower with you. and you truly appreciate him not making a big deal about it.

♡ it'd probably happen one time when you two are making out on the couch. things get a little heated and his hands are all over you. he gropes your breast through your shirt and you moan in his mouth. he pushes you back on the couch and teases your shirt up. "j-johnny," you say between kisses. "yes, lass?" "you remember i'm a virgin, right?" "mhm," he kisses you again. "did you want me t'stop?" "n-no," you whine as he rubs a hand over your clothed clit. "i just don't want to disappoint you." he looks at you in annoyance. "what? why would ya disappoint me?" he sees the shy look in your eyes like you're a bit ashamed. "lass, you could never disappoint me. i just want you. but if you don't wanna do anything, that's okay too." he kisses your nose and caresses the side of your face.

♡ with that out of the way, you tell him you do want to. he promises to go slow. and he does. he asks how you want it. you can ride him if that would make you more comfortable, being able to control the pace and all.

♡ you straddle him on the couch, soap's hands running all across your torso. squeezing and cupping your breast. gliding over your ribcage. going down to your ass and pulling you forward.

♡ you're slow when you lower yourself on him and johnny's head falls to the back of the couch, trying to contain himself. "you feel so good," he whines out.

♡ lots and lots of little praises. he wants to make sure you're comfortable and enjoying yourself. "that's it, love." "fuckin' hell, you’re takin’ me so well." "does it feel good?"

♡ and he'll rub your clit with his thumb, smiling as you collapse into him, your arms around his neck as you continue to bounce on top of him.

♡ you're definitely pleased when you orgasm around him, sending soap over the edge as well.

♡ then he kisses you, runs his hand through your hair, and pulls you into his lap where he'll tell you how good you were, how much he loved that. and he'll make sure you had a nice time too. wanting to make sure you feel good about yourself.

ALEJANDRO *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♡ gets a little bit of sick satisfaction knowing he’s going to have been the only one to have had you. “gettin’ you all for myself, then, mi amor?”

♡ even though he’s thoroughly enjoyed sex for years and has developed a taste for what he likes and dislikes, he’s charmed to be with someone who is so new at this. it’s a new experience for him in that sense.

♡ he definitely wants you comfortable before he tries anything, BUT, he goes absolutely fucking feral when he gets you to blush and act all shy and awkward. gets off embarrassing you. “you want me to fuck that tight little cunt of yours?” he says. your eyes widen and your cheeks get hot/flush. “a-alejandro” you whimper, a bit startled at his dirty mouth. “hmm? did you think my teasing stopped at the bedroom?” he winks.

♡ “tell me how you want it, mi amor. do you want my cock?” you nod sheepishly. “uh-uh,” he scolds. “gotta use your words.” you turn your face away from him in embarrassment. “yes.” “yes what?” “yes, i want your cock.” your entire body is on fire and alejandro grins madly. he never would have thought innocence would turn him on so much.

♡ but he’s really quite sweet in the moment. even though he does tease you quite a bit, he’s always reading your body and making sure he’s not hurting you and that you’re enjoying yourself. “just tell me if you want me to stop,” he says down at you. “okay?” he asks. you nod, “okay.” “esa es mi buena chica.” that’s my good girl.

♡ even though his is being careful, he can't help but get turned on when your nails are digging into his back and your face is scrunched up. "it's so much," you whimper out. that honestly sends him over the edge. he gets a little sense of pride knowing how intense everything was for you -- and for him.

♡ he makes sure you're not hurt once everything is done and he cleans you up and holds you close to him.

KÖNIG *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♡ you were a bit nervous to tell him, so you kinda waited until the last minute.

♡ könig had you pinned beneath him, leaving a trail of kisses along your neck, making you giggle. after he’s torn your clothes off and is back to attacking your lips, you break away to mumble at him. “i’ve… never done this before,” you said shyly. he looks at you, his eyes flickering between yours. “is this okay? do you want me to stop?” you shake your head. “no, no. i just wanted you to know.” he smiles and kisses you again.

♡ he’s okay with being your first, but it definitely makes him a bit nervous. he knows he’s going to have to be the one to take control of the situation, figuring you might be a bit shy/awkward and not know how to lead. but he’s okay with that.

♡ he also doesn’t want to hurt you. my guy is 6’7” so i mean… he’s got a big dick, i’m sure of it—he told me himself. he makes you orgasm like 4 times beforehand, absolutely tiring you out, but also making you relaxed and more ready for him.

♡ he’s planted between your legs and you're still panting from your last orgasm, and he lines himself up. “m’gonna go slow,” he tells you. you nod and he slowly enters you. your hands grip his shoulders tightly, already feeling the pressure of him stretching you out. (and even if you weren’t a virgin, it would still be like this tbh. size kink initiated)

♡ it takes a few minutes for him to bottom out. he does little half thrusts with only part of him inside you, trying to ease his way in. “i don’t think you can fit,” you whine out. “you can take it, liebling. jus’ a little—ungh—furtherrrrr—fuck,” he groans as he fills you completely. you’re whimpering under him, but mostly in pleasure.

♡ he catches his breath before asking you if he can move. you nod. he kisses your lips, mumbling against you, “i’ll be gentle.” he begins to rock into you.

♡ and he is. he’s slow and soft with you, mumbling praises. he tries his hardest to get you to give him another orgasm, rubbing your clit. you whine and squirm under him. you trust him so much that you’re actually relaxed enough to orgasm your first time with him.

♡ he’s stopped moving inside you so he can focus solely on rubbing your clit. finally, you clamp down on him and come. you’re so breathtakingly beautiful under him, squeezing him so fucking tight, that könig orgasms right then and there, without even having to move. both of you are a little shocked and you end up giggling.

♡ he lays on top of you, resting his head on your chest, his hands wrapped around you, while you stroke his hair. he leaves a little trail of kisses on your skin and you both lay there for a bit, content and entangled together.

GAZ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♡ gaz is a bit baffled about what to do. like he gives off hot shit energy, but when you tell him he’d be your first, he gets flustered. he feels pressured to make sure it’s good since he will be your first impression of sex.

♡ you end up having to tell him to calm down. “kyle, oh my god, it’s fine! it doesn’t have to be perfect. i just want it to be with you.” and that definitely relaxes him a bit. he just doesn’t wanna ruin this for you. it’s actually quite sweet.

♡ he’s on the bed, on top of you, kissing you and slowly stripping both of your clothing. when you’re both in underwear he makes an offer. “did you wanna be on top, love?” you give him an unsure look. “idk, i'm not really sure what i’m doing,” you say shyly, playing with the chain around his neck as it dangles above you. gaz rolls over and takes you with him. “you don’t havta if you don’t wanna, but this way you get to control everything. because shit… idk how well i’m gonna be able to control myself once i’m in you.” your face goes red hot.

♡ you take him up on his offer and stay straddling him. you let him help you line yourself up with him and you sink down ever so slowly, gritting your teeth as you do. gaz has his hands on your hips, panting as you take him teasingly slow. “that’s it, baby,” he encourages.

♡ your hands rest on his chest, sitting slightly forward as you take your time sinking down all the way. once you’re fully seated, gaz let’s out a guttural grunt, his eyes squeezed shut, his voice strained, “fuck—yeah, good t-thing you’re leadin’ this because with how fuckin’ good ya feel, i'd be tempted to fuckin' plow right into you.” his words leave you slightly embarrassed. gaz opens his eyes and looks at you lovingly. “ugh, you’re a fuckin’ dream,” he groans.

♡ not only does his words make you more excited, but it makes you more confident. you begin to move up and down, putting your weight on your hands. gaz hands grip your hips tightly in his fingers, clawing at you as you ride him.

♡ after several minutes of this, he rolls you under him making you squeal. “i can’t hold back any longer,” he says as he slides out of you and thrusts back in. he definitely does it more powerfully than you were, but it doesn’t hurt. it feels good letting him do the work. he buries his head in your neck, “jus’ let me know if i’m going to fast.”

♡ it isn’t much longer until you’re squeezing around him, making him groan and grunt wildly. just hearing him like that, knowing it’s you causing it, has you spilling over the edge. the way you tighten around him sends him over the edge as well.

♡ you’re both panting as he lays beside you, pulling you into him. “jesus,” he murmurs. “i always thought it was supposed to kinda suck for women the first time,” you said. gaz looks down at you, running his fingers in your hair, and laughs. you both begin giggling, both ecstatic and feeling amazing. you’ve never felt closer to him in that moment.

♡ gaz couldn’t believe how good it felt to have you coming with him and he's so excited, he's rolling you under him, asking if you're ready for round two.

[suguru-getos]

Can we take a moment to talk about how dom coded geto is- like?? *dreamy sigh*

(Need him to dom me fr)

-> cw: overstimulation, oral (f!rec)

“no no no, little girl, not happening.” suguru slaps the plush fat of your ass, smirking when you try to squirm away. he’s been eating you out nonstop. he’s starved, he’s parched. he’s needy, he’s desperate. even though you’re the one beneath him, squirming and whining… he’s the one that needs you more than ever.

“goin’ on trips over and over…” he groans, breaths panting and hot warm touches tingling at your cunt. “making me miss you.” he thrusted his tongue into you, savouring your taste, groaning at it. feeling you clamp around for more. feeling you need more. “such a good girl,” he is pleased by how you let him have his way with you now. your nerves are tired, fried. yet, you wouldn’t complain… suguru’s aftercare is just so condensed with love. how could you complain?

“sugu- gah- hurtin’..” you break down, voice soft & meek, begging as your legs shake again. he is pulling your third orgasm right now. tingling overstimulation aching in your core, reaching your feet, and aching & burning through your swollen bundle of nerves.

he rides it out for you, cooing and crooning, “sshh~ that’s it my little angel. my little one.” he hums, chuckling and thrusting his tongue inside and lapping up at your juices. he groans fervently, like an animal. a needy animal in a rut. he knows he can’t fuck you up, it was a competition between his tongue & his cock & this time, his tongue won.

“i’m done baby,” he coos softly, gently gathering your exhausted self in his arms and cuddling gently. your body is covered in a sheen of sweat, half-lidded and shivering in the bliss of pure ecstasy. “i just missed you so much, couldn’t help it.” he hums, “i just love you so much.”

[hanasnx]

fell in love without you

MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: everyone’s nineteen. WARNINGS: f!reader | you have a favorite twin | sexual content with said fave twin | dubcon kiss

FRED WEASLEY stands before you alongside his brother George. A seemingly world famous smug air about them, having charmed themselves by their own wit. Arms crossed, towering tall above the random passersby as they absentmindedly drone to their next class. Your hesitation spurs the twins on, exchanging a knowing and triumphant glance that says all as you tilt your head at them.

“Are you serious?”

One twin feigns offense. “Deadly serious.”

The other mimics him. “Gravely.”

“S’only fair, innit?”

“Game of guess the twin, guess wrong and you’ve got to give a kiss.” he repeats the game rules.

“For hurtin’ our feelin’s.” the other agrees.

You narrow your eyes with a huff through your nose. “You haven’t got any feelings. Now let me pass.” you demand, and attempt to cut through them but they’re connected at the shoulders to block your way from your corridor.

“Now that’s what you win if you guess right!” they say together. Did they rehearse this? You frown at them as you recoil, throwing your arm out to your side until your book pats the outside of your thigh.

“What? You scared? We both know you’ve got a little thing for me.” One shrugs.

“And me.” the other adds.

“We’re only helping you along.” they speak at the same time, in annoying twin-synchrony.

You give in. “Do you really think I can’t tell you apart?” Lazily, you point to the boy on the left. “Fred.” It transfers over to the boy on the right. “George.” They exchange another look amongst themselves, and adopt a crestfallen expression as their heads bow, stepping apart so you can enter. “See?” you taunt, passing them by. “Was that so hard? I’ll see you boys later—“

“Not so fast there, birdie.” You halt in your tracks at the sound of him speak. “I’m George.” You sigh hard and hang your head.

“I’m Fred. C’mon then, give us a kiss.” They’d faked you out, or they’re lying. Either way, you concede in order to satiate their egos, drawing back to the place where they wait for you. It’s only a kiss on the cheek anyway, and besides it wouldn’t reveal your true feelings towards your favored twin. You’re just friends, and that’s how it should stay. “Tha’s a good girl. Look at her comin’ back, George. She wants this just as much as we do.”

“A foolproof plan there, Fred, well done.”

“It’s practically your only pick-up line, boys. You could do far better.” you tease, and drop your satchel to the ground where it flops flat hopelessly, and toss your book to land onto the leather. “C’mon then, lean down.” They’re both much taller than you, sort of imposing if they weren’t so approachable when they wanted to be. George goes first, stooping to offer his cheek to you. Sweetly, you hook your arm around his neck for stability when you raise yourself to your toes, planting a chaste peck onto his cheek. His skin warms your nose, and he recedes as you do. When you meet Fred’s gaze, he hasn’t taken his eyes off you, and you feel yourself heat up in anticipation. He does as George did, stooping but it’s a little gentler, dragging it out. There’s a mischievous curl to his lips and you sense he plots something. So you idle while you figure him out, until he interrupts you.

“Oi, wha’s wrong with you? Go on, pay up.” and you snap out of it, doing as you did with George. Your arm hooks loose around his neck, hand splayed on the cuff of his shoulder. While you raise yourself to meet his cheek, the tips of your toes bearing your weight, and things seem to move in slow motion. An arm straps around your waist, arching you into him as he turns at the last second, drawing you into a kiss. A real one. You emit a noise of surprise as he deepens it, seizing the opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips during your squeak. Out of shock, you take a fair bit of time to register, eyes flying open as you pat hard against his chest. You can’t push him off, but he pulls back after he’s made his point.

Hastily, you adjust your uniform with a gaping mouth. “Fred!” you scold while they snicker, you took notice of how George averted his eyes beforehand, so he’d known of Fred’s trick. Perhaps Fred put him up to it. Some innocent game that allows Fred an in to make a proper move on you. Or some sort of malicious advantage over your feelings. Out of embarrassment or fury, your hands pat hard on each of them, banging your fists against whatever is within reach as their laughs feather out when they flinch and try to catch your hands. When they escape, and you realize you’re desperately tardy, you have to let them go, calling out your vow of revenge after them.

“Where’s that vow of revenge now, ey?” breathless words spoken into your ear as Fred ruts into you. Hidden under the hot covers of your bed, he keeps you close with strong arms encasing you, pressing you to him as you lay on your sides. You claw the sheets for purchase, clutching onto the fabric to keep yourself grounded as he moves inside you. Careful, gentle, deliberate. Everyone’s sleeping. If anyone found out a boy snuck into your girls’ dormitory you’d be toast. His breath sends tingles up your spine, squeezing your eyes shut in the dark as you focus on where your bodies conjoin. Sticky and wet, Fred sheathes fully with a buck of his hips, and involuntarily you whimper. A large hand cups your mouth to silence you. “Keep quiet,” he whispers and you nod against him. “Didn’t take you for a bad girl, birdie, you’re a proper troublemaker.” he tells you, barely audible, his lips moving against your ear as his hips circle, welcomed by your sex, he can’t help but soak a second. “You wanna get caught, don’t you?”

You can’t answer, shaking your head against his hand and you feel his teeth nip at your earlobe. “Is that right?” he goads, unconvinced. He shifts, gradually picking up a steady pace. “Should we give ‘em a real show then?”

[shotmrmiller]

The thought of toxic Dom!Simon not being exclusive with you is actually tilting me so I’m gonna write about it. 

–

As per usual, you’re draped over Johnny’s legs on the couch, listening to him talk his nonsense when he brings up Ghost. 

“...yeah and Ghost, lass, I’m tellin’ ye, he has got to be hurtin’ the lasses he takes to his quarters. He had this new medic in there screaming and…” but his voice fades, your heartbeat thundering in your ears drowning him out. 

He had another woman in his bed. Bastard. 

Your eyes sting as your blood boils. Jaw aching from how hard you’re clenching it. 

Stupid fucking asshole.

Of course, you hadn’t brought it up. Not like you could, with how he had stuffed your mouth with his cum— but that’s beside the point. Here you had thought it was a given. But no, that motherfucker wastes no time in fucking other bitches while he has you constantly checking your phone hoping he sends a text. 

Practically begging for his attention and he’s too busy getting his dick wet. 

And there’s no one to blame but yourself. You’re the one who chose to put your feelings into this. He, at no point in time, strung you along. Congratulations, you played yourself. But that doesn’t mean you’re gonna sit there and take it. If he gets to fuck other people, then so do you. 

Johhny’s yelp snaps you out of your own furious inner ramblings. 

“Hen, ouch! Mind the claws, eh?” 

You unclench your hand— you hadn’t realized you were digging your nails into his skin. 

“Ye a’right there? Yer face is bright red,” he remarks and you put your clammy hands onto your cheeks in an attempt to calm down. 

“Yeah, I’m alright, Johnny boy.” 

Releasing a tense breath, you turn to him with a toothy smile. 

“Hey, didn’t you have a single friend I could meet? I haven’t gotten laid in—” and Johnny cuts you off with a swipe of his hand.

“Och! Naw! I dinnae care to know ‘bout yer flings. Cease yer yappin’.” 

You arch one eyebrow at him and tartly say, “Oh, but I gotta sit here and listen to yours? How does that make sense?” 

“I’m the older brother, hen. Do as yer told,” and he yelps again when you pinch his thigh at that. He’s rubbing the spot and you try to not feel guilty at the fact that you might’ve pinched a little too hard— you’re still frothing at the mouth over that asshole.

“So?” you ask again, “Any cute friends?” and he rubs at the scar on his chin before nodding. 

“I do. Name’s Gaz. Er, Kyle. He’s been wantin’ to meet ye, actually. I talk about ye all the time and he’s gotten curious. Can give ye his number if ye want. And I dinnae wanna hear ‘bout anythin’ that happens, ye hear me?” 

He pulls out his phone and sends you Kyle’s contact. You text him immediately and he responds within minutes.

Johnny snaps his fingers to get your attention and you look up from your phone.

“Snap at me again and I’m biting your fingers off,” you snarl.

“Ye could try, hen. I’ll be back, gonna go get the food we ordered,” and you nod but then Johnny taps your head with his finger.

“And be nice to Gaz. He’s a good lad.” 

Rolling your eyes, you say, “Yes, da. I understand,” and he leaves.

The conversation between you and Kyle is light-hearted small talk until he sends a picture of himself wearing aviators— and you can see Ghost’s form in the background. Your rage comes back in full force.

You open snapchat and click on a filter that gives you cat ears and a collar with a bell— taking a photo of yourself holding up two fingers on Johnny’s couch, then press send.

Your phone vibrates and quickly look to see what Kyle said but it’s not him. It’s an unknown number.

You send pictures of yourself to all of Johnny’s friends?

His fucking nerve. The audacity. You grind your teeth and hold back the urge to throw your phone against the wall. 

Your nails clack angrily on your phone screen as you reply.

Worry about yourself and that little medic of yours.

A couple of minutes pass with no response until you get a phone call from the unknown number.

You answer the call with a sharp “What.” 

“That’s what this is about, pet? Ya mad at me so you throwin’ a tantrum?” he tauntingly chuckles. 

You might burst a vessel from the indignation of it all, so you do the only thing you can do. Hang up and block him.

Asshole.

You can’t wait to fuck Kyle and send Ghost the sex tape.

jokes on you, though cuz Ghost just gon show up at Johnny's flat sporting big dark hickeys on his neck lmao i hate him

@luminousbeings-crudematter

[sweet-as-an-angel]

MW2 Reaction to You Asking Them to be Gentle

Warnings: 18+ (Just To Be Safe), Non-Graphic Depictions of Smut, Implied Consensual Dub-Con, Dominant MW2, Jealous MW2, Slut-Shaming, Strap-On, Shock Collar, Implied Infidelity (Nobody’s Actually Cheated, it’s Just for The Bit), Age Gap (Price), Restraints, Slight Implied Dumbification, Implied Threesome, Petnames, Profanity No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

Ghost

“Aw, am I hurtin’ you, Love ?” he asks, ceasing his pace for just a moment. His body is hot and thick behind you, a wall, a barrier.

When you nod, your eyes glistening with budding tears and your hands gripping the bed sheets, Simon places a hand upon your cheek. Gentle. His thumb strokes your chin, and his eyes are kind.

Until they aren’t.

They sharpen in an instant, and, without warning, he pulls back, inch by inch, and slams back in. You yelp, winded, wincing at the pain revitalising in your lower half. But he doesn’t let you flee, grabbing you by the shoulders and forcing you to take all of him.

“Should’ve thought about that before practically sitting on Johnny’s cock, you little fuckin’ whore,”

It doesn’t matter how many times you try to tell him that Soap had pulled you into his lap as a joke – a gesture of friendship, not a phallic item or intention in sight  – Ghost isn’t having any of it.

“You won’t even be able to sit down without thinkin’ of me,” he says. His eyes dark, he growls, pulling back for the killing finish. “Or I’ll just have to put the fear of God into you again,” And he slams in, harsh, unflinching, sharp. And you scream, your vision turning white as you reach your end.

König

“I know, Engel,” he says, breathless. His eyes are piercing, fire and ice. And a thin, cruel smile stretches across his face.

Before you can react, even hope to retaliate, he takes your wrists beneath his hands and pins them above your head. You writhe and you struggle, only to be met with a low moan from König.

“Don’t tempt me, Darling,” he says. “Or I won’t be able to control myself when I snap,”

You can tell by his tone that he’s not letting you off easily. Not after your ‘flirtatious’ conversation with the barista from your excursion into town earlier.

When you feel tears prick your throat, König shushes you.

“Oh, shh, Engel, it’s too late for tears now.” You swear you see his eye twitch. His body bears down on yours, scorching and heavy and impossible to fight.

He lowers his head beside your ear, and, sibilant, licks the shell.

“Besides,” he whispers. He grinds into you. Slowly. Warning.

“You wouldn’t want to encourage me now, would you ?”

Soap

“Oh no, Bonnie; the time for kindness and compassion is over,” Johnny said as he tightened his belt around your wrists, pulling it so escape was a distant dream for you. He had you caged beneath him, a smile curved with a certain brand of unscrupulousness only he could wear at his lips.

“After all, what did you say to Simon again ? That I’m ‘gentle as anything’ ?” The second you’d said it, no matter how innocent your intent, you knew you shouldn’t have. If Simon’s gaze flickering to your boyfriend, who loomed just over your shoulder, was anything to go by, you knew the end was nigh.

“Do you know,” he took your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him, making you wince. “How many people I’ve killed ?”

Your heart dropped. Soap – for this was no longer the Johnny you’d come to know and love – released a brief, almost incredulous laugh. “D’ya think they’d call me gentle ? Loving and sweet ?”

Shaking your head, you hoped that by playing along you could negate whatever was coming next. Of course, any and all efforts would be in vain.

“Well,” Soap glowered, his hand encompassing your jaw, gripping you. He ground against you, growled. “I suppose I’ll just have to give you a demonstration, won’t I ?”

Valeria

“Oh ? Gentle ?” she says. Her voice is low and dangerous – you know because you’ve accidentally seen – heard – glimpses of her interrogation tapes. You know what’s coming for you – especially when she has your face pressed against her desk, her strap-on dangerously close to penetration, though hanging just out of frame. A threat.

“Is that what you thought I was going to be when you let that slimy, arrogant prick of a bartender slobber all over you ? Practically let him bend you over the counter and fuck you raw,”

Negotiation with Valeria is impossible – something else you’d gleaned from her tapes. And denial is even worse. But admitting to what she was accusing you of would be the signature on your death warrant. And she knows she has you cornered.

You can feel her tip prodding your hole. She didn’t even bother to lubricate you or prepare you.

“Shouldn’t need to. What, with that bartender already having done that for me.”

She knows the bartender did no such thing, but feeling you cower beneath her is too euphoric for her to even comfort you.

Without warning, she slams into you, only stopping halfway when your body refuses to take more of her, her obscenely long strap-on too thick for you to even fathom as you cry out, scream, tears falling to the desk’s surface beneath you.

Price

“You think, after all you’ve done, that you deserve my mercy ?”

Price’s grip on his belt was palpable, tightening, making the leather whine and whimper in his grasp. You could feel his teeth gritting, his stare hard. His voice held a cynicism you’d scarcely heard in his tone before. Not directed towards you, anyway.

“You go and chat up another guy and you have the audacity to believe that you’re worthy of even an ounce of my sympathy ?” 

The context behind Price’s upset was all rooted in misunderstanding; he’d seen some younger, attractive guy chatting you up, and you, trying to be polite until your boyfriend returned, smiled. Which, in John’s eyes, was reciprocation. And now, you were paying the price.

“Tell you what,” he said, his stern features shifting to portray ill intent, an idea sparking in his mind. He lunged, grabbed you by your ankle and pulled you down the bed – closer to him. His belt remained gripped in his other hand.

“If you can take – say – twenty lashes, and count them – without missing a single one – I’ll think about being gentle.”

He brought his belt down on your thigh, making you cry out. “And then you can tell me all about how he’d be gentle with you – how he could unravel you like I can.” His gaze, dark with the oncoming storm, narrowed. “How he can have you like this.”

Horangi

“Is that what you said to König when he had you like this ?” Horangi hissed. He had you pinned beneath him, eyes blackened with the false conviction of your infidelity.

And, try as you might to ease his misunderstanding, to remind him that he’s the only one you love, you hear something.

The squeak of hinges, the swinging of the bedroom door opening.

You couldn’t see – think – for Horangi’s frame bolted to yours, but through the rushing of blood and Horangi’s beration, you heard a most unmistakable tone.

“Liar, liar, liar,” came König’s voice, punctuated with three broad, heavy steps. He loomed over Horangi’s shoulder, arms behind his back, the smile of deceit a tune upon his face.

A slinking, sly smile threaded Horangi’s lips as he kept his eyes on you, turning his head to address König. “I’ll see how much truth I can get out of (Y/N) first,” he said, and, like a soundtrack, the sound of König’s belt sliding from his pants lay a dark undertone – the instrument. “Then it’s your turn.”

One hand collecting your wrists, the other tearing the belt from his jeans, Horangi gave you his full, undivided attention. As did König. “Seeing as you’re so desperate for another man on the side,” said Horangi, “Let’s see how you take both of us.”

Alejandro

“Don’t lie to me, mi Corazon,” Alejandro says, ignoring your plea, one hand around your throat, the other on your thigh, grasping, groping, grabbing at your skin.

“I saw you – whispering in his ear, telling him God-knows-what,”

Alejandro is on top of you, his weight an immovable object, his stare dark and unforgiving. You can feel him sat just out of reach of your epicentre, but not out of bounds.

What he’d seen was you, smiling, whispering into Rudy’s ear about something sultry. What had actually happened was you were confirming the details of Alejandro’s surprise birthday party with him, smiling because you were so excited to get it organised.

But you couldn’t tell Alejandro that; it would ruin the surprise !

When Alejandro’s more tame efforts to get you to talk proved fruitless, he took to his preferred method of extraction.

He ground against you, letting out a low, shuttering moan.

“You can’t hide the truth from me forever,” he said, with all the conviction of one who has only ever known truth. “So if you’re not gonna tell me while you still have your faculties,” He squeezed your throat, his other hand slithering up your thighs, stopping shy of your centre and unbuckling his belt.

“I’ll just have to force it out of you. Break you down until you’re nothing but a fuck toy.” His eyes are almost black now. “My fuck toy.”

Rodolfo

“Next time you want someone gentle, why don’t you go running to Alejandro, seeing as you seem to like having him slobber over you.”

You couldn’t argue back, couldn’t defend yourself, your mouth gagged with a t-shirt Rudy had tied around your head. You couldn’t even unravel it, Rodolfo’s hands pinning yours beside your head as he pressed into you from behind.

“Hm ? Got nothing to say, mi Corazon ?” Rudy sneers. “Pity, seeing as you couldn’t shut the fuck up around your boyfriend earlier.” 

As if to drive the point home, to hit the nail on the head, he rammed into you, making you whine, the shirt soaking up your cries and your drool. Your eyes shone with tears, but you dared not cry – not around Rudy. Not while he had you at his mercy.

“You won’t stop until you have all of us wrapped around your little finger, will you.” he said. It wasn’t a question, nor did he allow you to answer as he slammed into you again. “Luckily for you, I’m a good man. One who knows how to handle injustice when he sees it.” His grip on your thighs was almost painful, and were it not for the reluctant euphoria building within you, you’d have tried to break free.

“It’s up to me to force it out of you – to erase that entitled mindset of yours.” He pulled out, forced all of himself back inside, sharp. His breath shuttered while yours choked, your scream caught in your throat. 

“Don’t worry, Ángel,” he breathed, lowering himself so his lips were to your shoulder, pressing a deceptively soft kiss there. “By the time I’m done, there won’t be a single thought left in that brain of yours apart from me.”

Graves

“Don’t you fucking tell me what to do, Whore – you lost that privilege hours ago,” Graves says, threat heavy in his voice. He stands over you, face awash with a dense egoism you know is only worn when he has decided to take his frustrations out on you.

And today is no exception.

The collar about your neck is a reminder of all that you stand to lose should you fail to comply with Graves’ vision – your freedom; made excruciatingly clear to you by the locked bedroom door behind him, the key hanging in the lock.

No matter how you try to reason with Graves, he is having none of it.

“Shh, Sweetheart, now’s not the time for tears–” he says. The threatening tone in his voice remains, only the name he calls you changes. And the more endearing they become, the closer to danger you are.

He slides open the bedside table, reaches in and withdraws a pair of silver handcuffs, clinking together with a deceptive veneer of gentile.

“If you wanna get on my good side again, you have to do exactly as I say, precisely when I say so.” He cocks his head, a slim, coy smile spreading across his face like a disease. “Y’understand, Beautiful ?”

Gaz

“Gentle, gentle – is that all you have to say for yourself ?” Gaz spat, pacing back and forth before you as he kept a keen, sharp eye on you. “After everything you’ve done tonight, you think I’ll let you off easy ?”

The ‘everything’ Gaz was referring to had been your efforts to get a reaction out of him. Bending over at inopportune times, accidentally only wearing one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers while the rest of your clothes were in the wash (or had mysteriously vanished.

And, your worst offence, sitting under his desk while he held a very important online call with Captain price. All the while, you’d poked and prodded and stroked him, tested his resolve, his patience.

And, evidently, you’d gone too far. 

With the remote to the shock collar squeezing your neck attached to the very fibres of his hand, Gaz held all the cards, your sanity the Ace of the deck.

Before you could try to defend yourself, a thin spark sent you yelping, made you jump. Your hands flew to the collar, trying to pull its rounded teeth — the conductors – from your skin.

Gaz only smiled. “Oh no, Love – I won’t be gentle,” his tone was low, a serpent in the grass, his visage matching as he lowered himself to your level, eyes aglow with a piercing darkness. “If only you’d behaved, it wouldn’t have come to this.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[batfamtv]

what abt ethan landry with a size kink?? thoughts??

ethan x innocent!reader size kink

when ethan told you that his cock is hurting and that you can help him take the pain away, of course you agreed to help. he has always been nice to you and taught you lots of things like how to kiss and hug, and why you would get wet down there whenever ethan starts putting his tongue in your mouth.

but now, you silently watch him, nervousness and wariness etched on your face.

“it’s okay, don’t worry,” ethan reassures you, moving to kiss your forehead. one of his hands move to gently caress your head, while the other languidly strokes his aching cock, now throbbing under your gaze, “just turn around, babygirl.”

you nod, feeling a bit emboldened when ethan grunts at the sight of your ass on his lap. “yeah, that’s right,” he grips his cock tightly, swiping the pink, fat head on your pussy lips. you bite back a whine at the feel.

“you’re ready to go baby,” he coos, his tip now resting just outside your fluttering hole, “just sit on it.”

you, always willing to help ethan, nod before slowly pushing into the wide tip of his cock. ethan moans at the feel of your wet, tight pussy finally, finally, engulfing his cock, and he wants more, “more, baby,” he tells you, hands spreading your ass to watch your tiny, tight pussy swallow him.

“hnnngh…ethan…i-it’s too b-big…” you whine, struggling to take more when just a few centimetres in you are already feeling full. it makes your body tingle and your pussy wet. ethan has always been big, but ever since puberty, he has sprouted all the way to six feet, and you are having a lot of trouble taking him in. legs trembling, you pant, feeling your arousal coating his cock as he slowly moves your hips up…down…up, down his cock.

“it’s big, baby?” ethan asks, a large, smug smile on his face, “that’s just the tip. that’s not even all of it.”

hearing you whine, his hands move to cup your tits, using his thumb and pointer finger and pinch your nipples, “you gotta take it all…till i’m balls deep,” he whispers to your ear, “or else it’ll keep hurtin’.”

he makes you turn to the side to face him, and he plants pecks on your lips, “you’ll sit all the way, right?”

“mmhmm,” you nod assuredly, watching him smile in satisfaction before going to work. eventually, the pressure in your pussy lessens, only replaced by the tingling feeling and the need to help ethan. you move up and down, fucking yourself on the tip of his cock before you suddenly sit down as far as you can go.

“OH SHIT…there you go,” ethan groans, hands flying to grip your hips tightly, “fuck babygirl, you sat all the way down, huh? took all my cock?”

you nod, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of fullness, “it feels so good, ethan,” you whisper, “i feel full.”

ethan leans forward to mouth at your neck, hips moving softly to grind and thrust into your tight, wet cunt, “you’re gonna feel even fuller, baby,” he reassures you, “i just gotta release some of my cum inside so that it stops hurting, m’kay? you’ll let me right?”

you nod, reaching over to grab his hand, “please help me,” you tell him, “it feels weird down here,” and guides his hand to your swollen, throbbing clit.

ethan groans, once again thrusting up into your heat as his hand slowly fondles your clit, “i got you baby,” he tells you, “i’ll take care of your little clit and pussy, and all you need to do is take my cum, alright?”

“alright,” you tell him.

“i need you to say it,” he replies, now moving your hips up until just his tip is inside you, then slams you back down into his cock, his balls slapping onto the your soft thighs, “say it, baby.”

“i just need to take your cum…i’ll take ethan’s cum…”

ethan closes his eyes, relishing at the feel of your pussy, “that’s right baby…from now on, this pussy is the only place i’ll ever cum inside of.”

[princessbrunette]

♡₊˚ 🦢🩰・₊ ♪ ₊˚⊹♡

thinking bout older brothers best friend jj, a friend he has outside of the usual pogues who he’s known since they were younger — but never got to be around his best friends pretty little sister until recently.

“you know you don’t have to hang out with us. i’m not a babysitter.” your brother lightheartedly chucks an empty beer can your way making you pout from your curled position on the futon, the two boys sprawled on the couch taking up space with their long legs.

“damn, be nice to your sister dude. she’s not hurtin’ anyone.” jj shoves his shoulder lazily, directing his attention towards you with a lopsided smile. “you’re stayin’. today you’re gonna learn about sports whether you like it or not, ‘kay?” he jokes and you nod eagerly, earrings jangling. you’d do anything jj said.

your brother finally leaves the room after an hour or so of watching the game— moreso you asking questions and your brother telling you to shut up whilst jj cracked jokes and mansplained things in a way that made your toes curl pleasurably in your socks. you take the time to strike, standing up in your mini skirt that was already testing the blonde and walking over to the tv.

“jj, do you mind if i turn the volume up? can’t hear what the ref’s saying.” you pout, fiddling with the hem of your skirt to purposely draw his eyes there. he blinks away his urges after his eyes skim down twice, lips parting like he’d forgotten how to speak.

“uh, w— yeah, knock yourself out.”

his tongue finds home between his lips as soon as you turn around, tilting his head with the movement of your ass as you bend over to the side of the tv, manually turning the volume down with the button on the side of the screen. you take your time, really bending down to give him a view of the white dainty lace beneath your skirt.

you turn your head around, smiling all sweet and sultry so he knows you did it on purpose— staying in that bent over pose just for his viewing pleasure.

“well this feels like a set up.” he deadpans, pulling a cushion subtly over his lap.

“hm?” you hum as you stand up straight. he hears your brothers footsteps approaching the room, and licks his lips with a wordless shake of the head.

“you’re trouble, ‘know that right?” he speaks right before the door opens again, forcing the two of you to leave it at that.

♡₊˚ 🦢🩰・₊ ♪ ₊˚⊹♡

[wolvietxt]

𝓭ay 𝓽welve.

logan howlett and betrayal.

logan’s quiet when you walk in, barely glancing up from his spot on the couch. it’s unusual - he’s always been the first to greet you, his gruff tone softening when you’re near. but today, there’s a chill in the air, one that you can’t seem to shake.

“logan?” you say, hesitating in the doorway. “something wrong?”

his eyes flicker to yours, and the look he gives you sends a jolt of unease through your chest. “why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, his voice low and edged with something that sounds like betrayal.

your heart drops. he knows. you hadn’t meant to keep it from him, but you’d told yourself it was for the best - that some things were better left unspoken. now, though, faced with the weight of his hurt, you’re not sure anymore.

“tell you what?” you stall, your voice barely above a whisper.

logan lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “don’t play dumb. i found out about the mission. the one you took last year. the one you never came back from - because you were in the med bay for a week.” his tone is cold, biting, and you feel the sting of each word like a slap to the face.

your breath catches. you’d buried that memory deep, not wanting him to know how close it had come to ending you. “i didn’t want to worry you,” you admit, voice trembling. “you had enough on your plate.”

his jaw clenches, muscles tightening as he looks at you like he’s seeing someone else. “so you just decided i didn’t need to know? that i didn’t deserve to know what happened to you?” his anger simmers just below the surface, barely held in check.

“it wasn’t like that,” you plead, stepping closer, but he flinches, just enough for you to notice. the space between you feels impossibly wide, like a canyon neither of you knows how to cross.

“you didn’t trust me,” he says quietly, the accusation hanging in the air. “thought you were supposed to be different.”

the words pierce straight through your chest, and the silence that follows feels suffocating. you want to reach out to him, to explain, but there’s a wall between you now, built from all the things you didn’t say.

“logan, i…” you start, but you’re not sure what to say. how do you apologize for making the choice to protect him and yourself, even if it was the wrong one?

he looks away, jaw tightening as though he’s trying to keep himself from saying something he’ll regret. the room feels too quiet, too heavy with things left unsaid, and you wonder if the silence will swallow you both whole.

“i should’ve told you,” you admit, voice small. “i didn’t know how. it was…it was bad, logan. i didn’t want you to see me like that.”

his gaze snaps back to you, sharp and angry, but underneath it, you see the hurt. “you think i’d walk away just ‘cause you got hurt?” his voice cracks, just a little, and it’s enough to unravel something inside you.

“no,” you say quickly. “no, i know you wouldn’t. but you’d blame yourself.”

he’s silent for a long moment, the kind that stretches on forever. then he exhales, like he’s letting out some of that anger. “damn right i would. ‘cause if i’d known, i’d have been there with you.” he steps closer, closing some of the distance, his eyes never leaving yours. “not because i think you can’t handle yourself, but because i don’t want you to go through that alone.”

you swallow the lump in your throat, your voice trembling. “i’m sorry,” you whisper, looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes. “i was just… scared.”

logan takes another step forward, his hand lifting to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing your skin with a gentleness that catches you off guard. “don’t keep things like that from me again,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, the anger slowly ebbing away. “if you’re hurtin’, i wanna know. even if it’s ugly.”

the relief hits you all at once, and you feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as you lean into his touch. “okay,” you breathe out, the word a promise. “i won’t.”

he pulls you into his arms, his embrace tight, like he’s holding onto you just a little bit harder than usual. “you’re not gettin’ rid of me that easy,” he murmurs into your hair, and you feel his lips press a soft kiss against the top of your head.

you wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his shoulder, the warmth of him soothing the ache that had settled in your chest. “didn’t think i could,” you murmur back, voice muffled by his shirt.

logan’s lips find yours then, the kiss tender and lingering, as if he’s trying to tell you with every brush of his mouth that you’re forgiven—that he’s not going anywhere.

when you finally pull back, you see the flicker of a smile on his lips, and you know that maybe you’ve both come out of this stronger than before.

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[bookshelf-dust]

fix me up

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 1,425

warnings: swearing, allusions to sex/sexual innuendos, basically billy being a flirty little shit, mentions of back pain, fluff

a/n: hiii!! i came up with this a few days ago and i’ve been in love with it but now i’m feeling a little iffy about it, so i hope someone out there in the void likes it. happy reading! love you!! <33

————

“I think that if I have to lift a squirmy toddler up one more time, I’m just going to fucking die.”

“That seems a little dramatic.”

You’re sat on your knees next to where Billy lays flat on his back, his palms pressed to his eyes. You reach forward and rub your hand over his forehead, fingers smoothing over his hair. 

He moves his hands, looking up at you like he always does when you’re sweet with him. He raises his brows for a moment, a little confused, but then he leans into it, allowing himself to enjoy your affection. 

His hair is still a little damp from the shower he had when he got home, washing the smell of chlorine from his skin. 

You drag your thumb over the slit in his eyebrow, across the circles under his eyes, lingering on the freckles he has. They’re your favorite part of him, you’ve decided.

Billy shifts a little, like he’s uncomfortable, his eyes scrunching closed in pain. 

“Something hurtin’ you, baby?” 

He grabs for your wrist when you take it away, smacking a kiss to your pulse point. 

“My back’s fucking killin’ me.”

You pout for just a second, though he misses it because his eyes are still closed. 

It’s a dull ache that travels from his lower back, up his spine, and spreads at his shoulders. He’s sore. And his sides hurt, too. He can practically still feel the little feet kicking the shit out of him as he tried to convince the kids they were not, in fact, going to sink.

Not with floaties on, and not with him there. Not on their backs.

“Want me to rub it for you?”

Billy snorts. “You’d do that?”

You readjust so you’re sitting cross-legged. “I mean, I can’t promise I’ll be any good at it, but I’m willing to try to see if it’ll make you feel better.”

“I have complete faith in you.” 

“Liar.”

He grins at you before he’s grabbing your face with both hands to pull you down to his level. He kisses you once; his mouth is warm and he’s a little stubbly, though it’s not like you mind. 

When he pulls away, Billy sits up and flips so that he’s laying on his tummy, socked feet up by the pillows.

You go to straddle the backs of his thighs, but he’s sitting up again. “Wait—wait,” he says. He yanks his shirt off over his head and throws it somewhere behind him on the bed. 

You roll your eyes. “Show off.”

“Like you don’t want your hands on me.”

You choose this moment to slap him on the ass. He groans and crosses his arms so he can rest his face on them, cheek squishing up so he looks much less menacing than he would’ve hoped. 

You settle with your knees on either side of his hips, placing your hands on the skin of his back. He shivers, and you fight a grin. 

Billy is so warm. He's like a space heater. It takes seconds for the tips of your fingers to warm up against him. You run your hands over the planes of his back, down the dip in his spine. 

“I’m gonna touch you, and I need you to tell me where it hurts, okay?” 

Billy hums. Having you on him like this is comforting, he thinks. He likes feeling the weight of you against him, likes your hands running all over him. Even if you do keep skimming his ass because you can’t help yourself. 

You rest your palms against his lower back. “Here right?” You lean down and kiss the spot. 

“Yeah,” he says. 

“Where else?” you ask. You put some lotion on your hands so as to not make him uncomfortable, warming it up before you touch him. He fights the urge to make a joke about you lubing him up. 

Your hands slide upwards, over his shoulder blades. “There,” he grumbles.

“That all?”

“My sides.”

You put your hands back against his soft spot, and rub them up and outwards in a sort of sweeping motion. “So, like, this whole spot?”

“Yeah, baby.”

“‘Kay. You’ll tell me if something hurts or if you want it harder, right?”

Billy snorts at the sexual connotation that your words carry. He’s laughing because he’s asked you the same questions before. And he likes that you’re the one asking them now. 

“Billy,” you whine. 

“You know I will.” 

You start with his lower back, pressing your hands firmer than you had been against his skin. You rub in that same motion you’d used before, fingers spreading and trying to push the tension out. 

He hasn’t complained yet, so you assume he’s doing fine. Assume you’re doing fine. 

You keep doing that, rubbing his back and thinking about how you might do your own, reaching and sort of massaging the area to relieve the pain. 

When you look up at him, Billy’s eyes are closed. It’s like he’s sinking into the mattress. It makes you smile. 

You move to his shoulders. Your palms dig into the squish of his back, tanned skin and freckles moving under your touch. You push upwards, and hear him sigh. 

Billy feels like he could die. Your hands feel so good and his mind is so muddled he’s not even sure he could form a coherent thought. He knows that if he’s like this and you’re only doing his back, he’d just dissolve if you touched anything else. 

You start on his back again, remembering that he’d said it was bothering him the most. You use both of your thumbs and start at the very base of his spine, just above the waistband of his underwear, pushing hard. 

You’ve only done this once when he moans. 

“Ohhh, fuck.”

You stop. You’re giggling at the way he’s melting underneath you and it’s making you heat up in more ways than one. 

Billy turns his head to look at you, half asleep, blanket lines on his cheek. “Why’d you quit?” he grumbles. 

You grin. “You’re moaning, William.”

He rolls his eyes and face plants back into the comforter on his bed. “Am not.”

You laugh and he reaches back with one hand, blindly swatting at you. He misses but is too sleepy and entranced to do anything but relent, so your thumbs find his back again, pushing in the same motion. 

This time Billy let’s put a low sigh, like the tension is being released from his back. You push a little harder, rubbing up a little further. He does it again, brows furrowing. He knows that he moaned for you. He’s trying not to do it again but he’s losing the battle. 

“That good, huh?” you tease. 

Billy’s eyes fly open and he pushes up onto his elbows. He’s said those exact words to you so many times it’s like he doesn’t even have to think about it anymore. 

He’s not sure he wants to admit how much he likes this power you hold over him. 

You take your hands off of him and place them over your mouth to keep from laughing. You’re so proud of yourself and Billy swears he feels his heart swell at your antics. 

“Do you want me to stop?” you ask. “Clearly I wasn’t hurting you.” You’re laughing again and you lower yourself to rest your forehead against his back. He can feel your breath and your body shaking with giggles. 

“Kiss my ass,” he says. He runs a hand down his face. 

When you take him up on his offer, planting a kiss on the side of his ass cheek–even if it is on top of the cotton shorts he’s wearing–Billy breaks. 

He laughs. It’s a warm and happy sound. He seriously can’t believe you. 

The both of you are laughing like children, so loud that Max screams down the hall for you to “shut the hell up,” but that only makes it worse. 

“Okay,” you start, trying to catch your breath. “Okay. Holy shit.” Your hand slides back up his back, fingers running up and down his spine, giving him goosebumps. “You feel any better? Or you want me to keep going?”

Billy flops back down into the mattress. “Please don’t stop. Need you to fix me up.”

You adjust yourself so that you’re sitting directly against the curve of his ass this time. You lean down to whisper into his ear, hands massaging at his sides. 

“I think I can fix you up just fine, baby.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 28

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Pregnancy stuff - bodily fluids, etc.

A/N: Still worried about Daryl's character in this, but I guess I will probably continue to do that since this is a situation we haven't seen him in during these seasons. Anyway, game on.

Two days. Three centimeters. Nothing really new other than a few small, quick contractions that were nothing more than a tightening of your belly. Daryl stayed close, mainly venturing outside only to smoke or relieve himself, and, of course, he accompanied you when you needed to go. At that very moment, you were lying propped up on a mountain of pillows that everyone had given you. Daryl was sitting cross-legged by your feet, sharpening his knife.

“Do you think something’s wrong?” You asked, pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth. The archer looked up and studied you, looking back down at the whetstone before shaking his head. The sound of the blade sliding against it made your skin crawl. “Can you—stop that please?” He sighed but sheathed the knife and tossed the whetstone onto the top of the things in his bag. He hadn’t been speaking much which concerned you. You watched him scrub a hand over his face before keeping it there and propping his elbow on his thigh. “Daryl, what’s wrong?”

“Nothin’.” His voice was gravelly, tired even, but not unkind. You knew he had slept, or had at least been lying down with you while you did. “Ya hurtin’ or anythin’?” He still had his face covered.

“Mm-mm. Thumper’s awake though. It’s Cirque du Soleil in there.” His hand finally moved to smooth back over his hair, leaving the shorter pieces askew. “Hey.” His eyes met yours again, worry evident and overflowing. “Come over here?” His left hand clenched into a fist but then flexed open again. Daryl got to his feet, taking a single step toward you before bending down to press a kiss into your hair. 

“Gonna have a smoke. Right outside if ya need anythin’.”

You watched him go and sighed, turning your attention to your stomach. “I think you’re scaring your daddy, Thumps. Me too, a little bit, if I’m being honest.” The baby hadn’t been as active over the last 24 hours, but Hershel had reassured that it was normal for movement to decrease in the last part of pregnancy. “I don’t know how good of a mom I’m gonna be. I didn’t exactly have a shining example. And your daddy—he’s gonna really need our patience, kiddo. Shit, we’re both gonna need patience.” There was the smallest ripple beneath your palm. “We’re flying blind here.”

Sounds of a scuffle on the porch had you sitting up straight in a flash, eyes wide and darting. 

“Daryl?”

He staggered in the door—walker blood on his arm and his knife—before gaining his footing and bending to grab your boots. “Gotta go!” He was calling for the others while helping you get ready and grabbing up what blankets he could to stuff into the second bag. You could hear the moans and scratches and thumps just outside the wall. “C’mon, just leave the rest. We gotta move.”

You nodded, leaving the remaining blankets, pillows, and your sweatpants. It would be freezing in just your leggings but as long as you were alive, then you couldn’t really complain. 

Daryl threw one of the bags on his back—along with his crossbow—while you shouldered the other bag. Knife in one hand, he took yours in the other and was pulling, the first of the herd of corpses tumbling into the house, slimy fingers grasping so closely that you felt the tug on your hood before they seemed to have lost their grip. 

Everyone was sprinting out the back, Rick waiting until you and Daryl had passed to follow and pull the door closed behind him. The truck was blessedly close. Daryl was pulling the bag from your shoulder and opening the door simultaneously, letting you climb inside while he tossed both packs into the back and rounded to the drivers side. You had the key ready and in the ignition, your heart rate slowing the moment his foot hit the gas. 

“Y’okay?” 

Catching your breath—winded by fear and exertion and well, the extra weight of the human growing inside your belly—you looked over just in time to see him take his right hand off the wheel, flex his fingers as they moved just the slightest distance toward you, and then place it right back where it started. 

“Yeah.” You answered breathlessly, swallowing and nodding. “Yeah, we’re okay.” He relaxed a little. His next question would have been about Thumper, so why not ease his mind quickly? “Are you okay? The one outside, before you—”

“M’alright. Ain’t bit or nothin’.” He mumbled, dragging his left thumb over his bottom lip before he began chewing on the skin there, thickened from all the scarred wounds he had given himself, small as they were. He was anxious. He had every right to be. You could go into labor at any moment and another temporary home had been overrun. It had been months of this shit. Run, run, run, and—for a change of pace—run again. 

Hand steadying your belly, you twisted in the seat to look behind the truck for the headlights of the van. When you didn’t see them, you swiveled back to check the side mirror, finding it easier to watch in that position. There was nothing but the soft red glow of the truck’s tail lights. “I don’t see them.”

“They’ll show an’ we’ll pull off. Come up with somethin’.” His eyes slid over to you and back. “Can’t keep ya out on the road.”

You couldn’t disagree. You could feel your ankles swelling inside your boots. Your pelvis and hips ached, your lower back felt strained. Your stomach was tightening in a small contraction. You were just highly uncomfortable and more than a little tired. Your head fell back against the headrest, eyes closed. You must have dozed because when you opened your eyes, the truck was still and Daryl was gone. 

“Daryl?” You quavered, grabbing the dashboard as you slid to the edge of the seat to be able to survey the surroundings. It was too dark. You could barely see inside the cab itself. “Daryl!” Just as you grabbed for the door handle, the driver’s side door opened at full tilt and the archer peered inside.

“M’right here. Y’okay?”

You exhaled sharply, not even realizing you’d been holding your breath. “What’s going on? Why’re you out there? Are the others here?” 

Daryl looked over his shoulder, tapping his fingers against the top of the door before turning back toward you, looking at the seat instead of meeting your eyes. “Nah, they ain’t here. Ain’t seen no sign’a ‘em.” You could see the same worry you were feeling reflected in his posture. 

“What will we do if they—” You couldn’t say it. You just couldn’t. Why did the world just insist on taking everything? 

“Do whatever we gotta do.” Daryl sniffed, looking over his shoulder again. He was thinking the same thing you were. Neither of you knew the first thing about childbirth. You turned to get out of the truck, an ache in your lower back while your stomach tightened in a contraction making you wince, your fingers wrapped around the door handle. “Stay in the truck.” Your hand fell away but the pain remained. It wasn’t unbearable and after a moment, your muscles loosened. The pain in your back remained but lessened.  “Y’alright?”

“Mhm.” You answered quickly. Laying back against the seat, you blew upward to move an unruly hair from your face. You were so tired but you couldn’t sleep, not while your partner was standing outside the truck alone and keeping watch. It wouldn’t even do much good to try when there was no comfortable position you could find with your back twinging. Still, you found your eyelids drooping. When the truck rocked the slightest bit, you didn’t startle. A warm hand wrapped around your shoulders and pulled, and you let yourself be guided to lie on Daryl’s thigh.

“Get some sleep.”

With a hum, you turned to face his stomach so your own could rest upon the seat. His hand settled on your ribs. 

“I love you.” You mumbled, already halfway gone into slumber. The last thing you felt was his fingertips graze along your jaw.

It was daylight when you next opened your eyes, the taut skin of your stomach pulling uncomfortably tight while your back spasmed. The contractions themselves were merely annoying while the pain in your back was constant, made worse when your muscles tensed. Grimacing, you glowered at your belly. “Good morning to you, too.” You were no longer pillowed on Daryl’s thigh, actually alone in the cab. You made it up to an elbow when you heard voices. Familiar voice.

“You sure you’re alright? Y/N alright?"

“She’s sleepin’.”

You had to grab the steering wheel to haul yourself upright, opting for the passenger door. Carol was the first to see you and sprinted in your direction. You stood still and let her come to you, your ankles just too swollen and sore to move more than necessary. Once reaching you, she wrapped her arms around your shoulders with a little less enthusiasm so as not to jar you. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay. When we didn’t see the truck—”

“I know. I was freaking out when I couldn’t see the van.” 

She brushed your hair away from your face once she let you go. “We had to go around the herd and then figure out which direction you two went.” You smiled, but it was a weak attempt. Your back was still aching. “Are you okay?” Behind her, Daryl was watching you. You wondered if he was hearing anything Rick was saying.

You waved her off. “Yeah, I’m fine. So, what’s the plan?”

“Heading South, I guess? I’m not sure. I mean, the main thing is to find somewhere safe enough for you to have that baby. Lori won’t be far behind. A few weeks, at most.” Her eyes dropped to where your hand rested on your stomach and then back again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Go see what’s going on. I don’t really feel like walking over there. I”m just gonna wait in the truck.” After a moment, Carol acquiesced, calling over her shoulder for you to yell if you needed anything. You waved your hand over your head and let it fall to your back, pressing in on where the ache continued. Maybe it was time to tell Daryl something else was happening. Opening the door, you lifted your foot from the ground when you felt something gush from your opening, wetting your underwear and leggings. “Oh, great. And now I pissed myself. Way to go, Y/N!” 

You left the door open and stepped back so you could reach into the truck bed for your bag. You’d have to change but you really really did not want to tell Daryl that had just happened. He was your partner and you were pregnant, so he’d understand but you were sure to get a ya did what now and that would just make you feel more embarrassed. Maybe you could call Carol over and she could help you out of the soiled clothes and hide them until they could be washed. 

Standing on your tiptoes, you grabbed the soft handle of your bag when it happened again. Less of a gush, but a noticeable flow. That’s when reality roundhouse kicked you in the teeth.

Oh shit.

“Hey, Daryl.” You kept your tone even, unalarmed even if you were being absolutely ravaged by panic inside. You left the bag and lowered back down to be flat on your feet. Daryl’s boots were loud on the pavement but at a slow stride. Good. You hadn’t terrified him. 

Yet.

“Yeah?” He noticed where you were standing and glanced into the truck bed. “Need your bag?”

“Well, yes and no.” Your abdomen tightened again, still painless, but aggravating the cramping in your back to a new level. With a hiss through your teeth, you knew you had his full attention without even looking at him.

“S’wrong?” 

You were staring at your feet, expression pinched with pain and concentration while you persevered through the episode. Why the fuck did your back hurt? All too soon, Daryl’s boots were right in front of yours. “I—I think my water broke.” When you could finally think past the throb that was slowly ebbing away into the continuous ache, you raised your head to find him staring at the ground. And then your pants. “What?”

“Ain’t there supposed to be—I dunno—a lot?”

“How the hell should I know? You think I give birth on a regular basis?” You snapped, immediately murmuring an apology. 

“Ya sure ya didn’t just—”

“No, I didn’t piss myself.” More fluid trickled from within you, a miniscule amount but enough to be noticed. “At least I think I didn’t? I mean, I was expecting more of a whoosh. Like Noah’s Ark level of liquid, you know?” And then you were silent. And so was he. You stared at one another, each waiting for the other to say something.

Daryl cleared his throat. “M’gonna—gonna get Hershel.” He turned but barely managed a step before he stopped, looking back over his shoulder. “Or I can stay here? Do ya need me here?”

“Just get Hershel. I’ll be fine for now. Can you get Carol too, please?” You watched him nod, noticed the tick in his clenched jaw, the way he was tapping each fingertip of his right hand against his thumb rhythmically. He was freaking out. And as you felt more liquid soaking into the fabric of your underwear and leggings, so were you. You were wet all the way down past your knees. 

“Daryl said you needed me.” Carol’s voice brought your head up, your expression triggering the worry that took over her own. “What’s wrong?”

“I think—I either really had to pee or my water broke.” You shifted from foot to foot, carefully keeping your thighs apart. You had never felt so humiliated in your entire life. If your father could see you now—well, honestly he’d probably be laughing and saying take it easy, peanut, it’s just some wet pants. 

“It’s okay.” Carol soothed, encircling her arms around your shoulders. “Anything else going on? Contractions?” You nodded. “How often?”

“I don’t know. Like maybe every half hour but my back is killing me. It just—it hasn’t stopped hurting since it started last night.” She was listening so intently that it made you nervous. “The contractions don’t hurt, but man, they make the back pain fucking horrible.”

Carol smoothed your hair and took your face in her hands, giving you that sweet Carol smile. “Sweetheart, I think that your water did break and that you’re in labor.” You felt your eyes widen and your breaths coming quicker. “It’s okay, just breathe. Daryl’s on his way over with Hershel.”

Daryl came straight to you, the nervousness surrounding him so strongly that it made your chest tighten further. He didn’t say anything as he usually did when you floundered over your responses. When Hershel asked permission to examine you then and there, you began to fidget. 

“I guess there’s not much of a choice, is there?” You lamented, looking to your partner. His head was down and he was trembling. You’d have to talk to him later when there was no one else around. 

“I’m afraid not.” Hershel could see you were anxious. His soft spoken words were proof enough of that. 

Daryl climbed into the cab first and helped you in, letting you rest your head on his thigh while Carol pulled off your sodden leggings and underwear. The examination was quick, much to your relief. 

“As far as I can tell, it was indeed your water breaking. We have no litmus paper for confirmation, but the source of the fluid appears to be from the vaginal opening and not the urethra.” You knew this would happen eventually but that made it no less terrifying. “You can likely expect the contractions to become more intense, closer together as you dilate. They may or may not be painful as we talked about. Daryl, you’ll need to time them.”

“Okay.” Was all he said, quiet and contemplative. Hands at your shoulder blades, he helped you to sit up.

“Rick,” the vet called out, “we need to find somewhere safe and fast.” The deputy jogged over, looking quizzically between all the faces. Carol quickly occupied the old man’s place with fresh clothing from your bag, covering your lower half from view. “Y/N will be giving birth soon and needs a quiet, safe enough place to deliver.”

“These are likely to get wet too, but you can’t ride around in soaked clothing. Beth and Maggie had some pads, so I thought maybe they could help, too.” You nodded robotically. This should be the happiest experience of your life and all you could feel was an overwhelming sense of foreboding. What if you screamed during the birth and brought down a herd? What if the baby cried too loud? What if something went wrong? What if? What if? What if?

Carol helped you get dressed and situated in the truck while Daryl looked over a map with the others. You watched him from the side mirror, smiling when you saw that he could barely focus, continuously glancing toward the truck. You could feel the beginnings of another contraction, the twitching inside before your stomach would tighten and you’d need to breathe through the pain in your back. It still wasn’t unbearable but it was enough to coax a whimper from your lips. Right in the middle of the episode, there was a gentle tap on the window. Lori was looking through the glass sympathetically, waiting patiently until you could use the window crank.

“How’re you holding up?” She asked, reaching in to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

You saw no reason to lie. “I’m terrified.” Wringing your hands over your belly, you sniffled in an attempt to hold back the tears. Crying wouldn’t solve anything. “I don’t know what to expect. The pain, you know. What if I cause someone to get hurt because I can’t take it? What if something’s wrong with Thumper? What if—”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Her hand landed gently on your shoulder and you lost the battle with the tears that were demanding to fall. “Everything you’re feeling is normal. Well, as normal as it can be in a world full of the walking dead. It’s all going to be fine. All things considered, you’ve handled this pregnancy like a warrior. I have no doubt that you’ll get through bringing that baby into the world just fine.”

You wiped at your face almost angrily. “Really?”

“Really.” She smiled, looking as if she were going to say something else but her eyes moved to somewhere behind you. She squeezed your shoulder. “It’ll all be okay. We’re going to be leaving soon. We’ll find a safe place.” Another glance behind you and, holding her smile, she walked away. 

You were rolling up the window when the driver’s door opened and Daryl climbed in, shutting the door behind him. “Ya doin’ okay?” His voice was just as shaky as he was.

“I’m okay.” You kept your expression soft and reached for his hand. He let you take it. “Are you okay?” 

“Mhm.” He squeezed your fingers and pulled his hand back to start the engine and take hold of the shifter but he didn’t move it.

“Daryl?”

“M’scared shitless.” You blinked for a moment before quickly dismissing the shock from your expression. “Dunno what m’doin’. Dunno how—what m’s’posed to do to help you.” He was staring straight ahead, carefully avoiding your gaze. It was obvious that wasn’t easy for him to admit. 

“Hey.” He ducked his head but he didn’t look at you. “We’re both lost here, but we’ve made it this far.” With a noise of effort and discomfort, you scooted across the seat. The movement had him looking your way with a quick turn of his head.

“What—quit it ‘fore ya—”

“Shut up.” You wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him forward for a kiss. It was difficult to hold the position you found yourself in, your back singing with pain, but you both needed the comfort, the closeness. When you separated, you kept the hold on his neck and pressed your forehead to his. “We’re in this together. ‘We’ll handle it’, remember?” Clearing his throat, he waited a moment before he nodded, his forehead bumping yours. 

The van pulled up alongside the truck. With a last kiss to his forehead, you slid back across the seat and slouched to take some of the pressure off your back. Daryl nodded to Rick and then pulled off the roadside and followed behind the others.

“That one actually hurt.” You breathed, rubbing a hand over your belly as the pain faded. You’d been on the road for about three hours, stopping at two homes, both with too many dead wandering too close by. Daryl glanced up at you and then back to the watch he had balanced on top of the steering wheel.

“Last one was ‘bout 21 minutes ago, this’un was ‘bout 52 seconds.” He sat the watch on the seat by his leg and switched hands on the wheel, resting his left elbow on the window panel so he could rub his thumb back and forth across his lip while he obviously chewed the inside of his cheek.

“So they’re lasting about the same amount of time but they’re definitely getting closer together.” Shifting in the seat a little, you hissed at the twinge of pain in your back. “God, my back is the worst part right now, but if it doesn’t get any worse than this, I’ll be golden.” You were very doubtful you’d be that lucky but one could dream, right?

“M’sorry.” Daryl mumbled from behind his thumb.

Your brow furrowed, your head shaking back and forth in confusion. “Why are you sorry?”

“M’the reason you’re goin’ through this.” He cleared his throat sharply, biting into the side of his thumb with more vigor than you’d ever seen before.

“Last time I checked, I was a willing participant in the creation of this tiny human.” You chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood. There was a dense fog of tension building inside the cab, one you intended to disperse as quickly as possible before it could soak into either one of you. “This is our baby, Daryl. We decided to do this together.” You started to reach for him but thought better of it for the moment. “We’re going to do this together.”

He looked over at you, glancing back at the road every few seconds. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

You shook your head and smiled fondly. “If the baby is as quiet as you are when they’re upset, then we won’t need to worry about them attracting walkers.” You had meant it as a joke but the archer immediately blanched. “No, Daryl, I just—shit, that was the worst. I’m sorry.”

“Babies cry. How—what—”

“We’ll deal with it when we have to deal with it. Right now, let’s just focus on actually having a baby, okay?” That was enough to at least have him lapse into silence with a nod. You watched the sky darken, knowing two things: there would be no shelter before dark and the vehicles would soon need fuel. Daryl must have been thinking the same, his eyes darting down toward the dashboard. His thumb was hovering in front of his mouth, a smear of blood on each.

“Gonna have to camp tonight.” He swallowed so hard that you saw his throat working. “They’re gonna hafta go lookin’ for fuel.”

“You’re not—”

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” The conviction in his tone filled your chest with warmth, even if he didn’t look at you. You couldn’t express your appreciation before another contraction began to build.

“Fuck.” You breathed, holding the side of your belly with one hand while the other reached for the dash. Daryl didn’t need clarification, just reached to pick up the watch. Your back screamed while your stomach tightened and cramped, pulling a whimper from within you that you couldn’t seem to stifle. Breathe, idiot, you told yourself. In through the nose, out through the mouth. It wasn’t the worst pain you’d ever felt, but it still fucking hurt. Seconds felt like hours but soon enough, you could feel the pain ebbing away, your body relaxing. “Christ.” You fell back against the seat, completely wrung out. 

Daryl was still holding the watch, glancing between it, you, and the road. “Minute an' four seconds, last'un was 19 minutes ago.” Before you could comment, the truck sputtered and jerked. The archer was barely able to get it onto the side of the road before it died. He flashed the lights to signal the van, the brake lights illuminating the road ahead as Rick turned around. Daryl’s hands dropped to his lap, his head bowed to stare at them. “Gettin’ closer together.” He almost whispered.

“Yeah.” It was all you could think of to say. “I am not having this baby on the side of the road.” Even as the words left your mouth, you didn’t believe a single syllable.

[longreads]

Rescuing the Rescuer: Saving Myself from a Lifetime of Hurt

In this moving essay, Cathleen Calkins examines the cumulative emotional toll on ski patrollers who witness and respond to traumatic injury every day on the job.

"The alchemy between rescuer and rescued is strange: like a romantic relationship, only faster moving. The euphoria of starting simply at hello, I’m here to help before moving on and culminating at what feels like deep attachment. We say my patient, as in they transported my patient to the hospital, or my patient opted to return to the slopes, or my patient is in the bar. I felt possessive of those I spent so little time with because our paths crossed at a moment they needed my help. Perhaps I cared too much.

I used to wonder how the people I’d assisted were doing. Like the college student who snagged first chair to get on the snow early so he could make it home before his afternoon class. He didn’t look like a skier. His cheap snow pants were too big, his cotton hoodie soaked. I remember how crumpled he looked when I skied up to him and how his inaudible moans grew louder when we secured him to the backboard. Had his injury prevented him from leading the life he wanted?"

Read Rescuing the Rescuer at Longreads.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Perspective | Ghost x Reader

Day 1: Body Worship w/ Simon “Ghost” Riley

Summary: Simon Riley has always thought of himself as broken and undeserving of you, but you’re always there to quiet his intrusive thoughts.

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: A little bit of angst, scars, mentions of death and fighting, smut, oral (m receiving), fluffy smut??, sub!simon, not too bad

Minors, do not interact!

A/N: im so impatient like I can’t wait for october to start, so merry christmas and a happy new year you’re getting this one early lol. anyways, I’m a sucker for ghost fluff and it shows, not too sure about how this one turned out, but hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Masterlist

Simon Riley had thick skin.

It was obvious, really. You’d noticed it before in the little things while living in your home together. How the doors remained locked, everything stayed organized in the way he liked it, even how he was still getting used to being able to relax and let down his guard during the night.

But the wounds that lay deeper, engraved into the flesh beneath his skin, into his very heart, were ones he hadn’t let you see yet. Not until tonight, when you fumbled with the key to open the front door, knowing the loud knocking you would’ve usually done would probably disturb him.

The key decided to relent, letting you turn it and open the door as you walked into your home, the living room greeting you as the coat you were wearing was slipped off and placed onto the jacket rack to your left.

Simon wasn’t at the door to greet you like usual.

Strange.

Lips pressing into a thin line of mild worry, you mentally debated about it for a moment before calling out, trying to keep a bit of softness to your voice to not alarm him.

“Si?”

You began walking towards your shared bedroom’s bathroom when you heard a little clatter, the sound of something plastic hitting the floor, and low grumbling as you approached the door.

Your hand closed around the doorknob, the metal cold against your hand as you opened the door, peeking in, only to find Simon shirtless, sitting on the edge of the tub, with a tub of what looked to be some sort of lotion fallen over onto the floor.

You saw his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed, glancing from the lotion to you, eyes slightly wide and vulnerable like a child who’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t have.

“Hey,”

You said, trying to figure out what was going on as you crouched down, picking up the tub of lotion and reading the label on the front.

‘Scar Therapy’

“Hey.”

He said, voice thick with something you couldn’t figure out as he stared down at you, watched as your eyes softened, soft hand coming to cup his cheek, your thumb rubbing against his scar-covered skin.

Your head tilted to the side a bit, and Simon knew that look. You had probably already guessed what was happening here, but you wanted his version of it.

It was almost funny how nervous he suddenly felt. He was a Lieutenant, he’d killed men with nothing more than shrapnel, taken out entire military bases, and taken down powerful people, but it didn’t compare to this. Because he had to let his walls crumble even more than they already had with you, and it was terrifying, to let anyone in.

“I was just—my scars, they were…”

He mumbled, the old habit creeping back in. A momentary pause as his eyes met yours for a moment, and he forgot to breathe for a few seconds before getting the rest of his sentence out.

“Hurting. They were hurtin’.”

You moved subtly closer to him, your right hand dipping into the tub of lotion, the same hand approaching a nasty mark across his chest. You looked up at him, waiting for his approval, and he gave a small nod, watching with bated breath as your fingers began pressing the lotion onto the scar, gently massaging it in with small circles.

It was almost like you’d pressed a button in him, with how he seemed to almost deflate at that, heaving a deep breath out as he went pliant in your arms, only barely holding himself up.

Your fingers moved from his chest and torso to his biceps, and finally to his back, where one of the thicker scars near his spine was.

You could’ve sworn he almost whimpered, eyes squeezing shut and lips parting.

“Gentle,”

He breathed, and you let up a bit with your fingers, only giving featherlight strokes now, his breathing growing almost ragged as the both of you remained there for a long moment, that was until the lotion had been fully rubbed into his skin, and you reached to put the lid back on the container.

The silence seemed nearly impenetrable as he cracked his eyes open, following your every move, from the quiet screwing sound of the lid being put back on, to you placing it into the small cabinet area under the sink and closing it with a dull thud.

“Let’s go to bed.”

You spoke softly as if talking to a wounded animal, while slipping your hand into his significantly larger one, giving a small tug. He rose obediently, following behind you, deathly silent, feet rolling to not make any noise as he slipped into the bed beside you.

Both of you simply lay there for a while, him staring at the ceiling before he turned on his side to face you.

”Why do ya put up with me?”

He asked, a heartbreakingly vulnerable softness to his tone as if he was whispering something secret, something he didn’t want anyone else to know. Your brows furrowed as you turned on your side to face him, opening your mouth to speak, but he cut you off before you could get it out.

”I’m not..easy to deal with, ‘m fucked up, broken, so why do you keep lettin’ me come back—come home—to you?”

You didn’t have to look at his big, brown eyes to know that tears were welling in them, though you did anyway. You could only hope that he could see the sincerity in your gaze, that for once, he could finally believe you when you told him what he was.

”You’re not broken, Si.”

Your tone was soft, a gentle caress, but also carried a bit of firmness to it. That was that. No negotiation. Or at least, that’s how it should’ve been, but Simon Riley was more stubborn than you gave him credit for.

He huffed, though it mildly resembled a sniffle.

”You’ve seen my scars, I’m fuckin’ ruined, I don’ know what you see in me.”

He was trying to sound firm and stubborn, but you could still hear that vulnerability from earlier that was now hidden behind walls he’d built up. Walls he always put up when he was afraid.

”You want to know what I see in you?”

You asked, the idea already weaving together in your mind. It might not work, he might just reject your thoughts and praise, but it was worth a try. It was worth it for him.

Your right hand slowly began trailing onto his waist, and you saw his gaze snap down to it as he watched you rub little circles onto his hips. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, the calculating in his eyes, trying to figure out what you were doing, but this wasn’t a battlefield, and he was out of his element.

”Well, what I see,”

You began, voice a low murmur as your hand slowly trailed upwards onto his chest. His body became almost wholly still, stiff and tense, but he didn’t push you off, didn’t tell you to stop. Your hand slowly slid his shirt up, leaving his torso and chest bare to your view. You leaned in closer, your left hand going to slide his shirt further up, then right over his head, disheveling his short blond hair, before the shirt was tossed onto the floor.

”I see a man who’s gone through hell and back, and lived to tell the tale.”

You murmured, hot breath fanning against his skin as you began slow, light kisses against the scar on his breath, your hand now moving to gently caress the skin you weren’t peppering with kisses. His breath hitched in his throat.

You moved up, now at his collarbone as you began the trail of kisses again, from the sharp angles of his collarbone to the broadness of his shoulders, down to his biceps and forearms with the thick muscle adorning them, all the way down to his hands, where you kissed each calloused, rough fingerpad, stopping to look him in the eyes as you did it.

”I see a man who’s been treated so harshly his entire life, he doesn’t know how to handle love.”

He stared back at you, eyes wide, lips slightly trembling. His hands began shaking.

You moved down, hands fumbling with the metal of his belt for a moment, until his large, warm palm enveloped your hand, moving it away momentarily, only to unbuckle it himself, muscle memory kicking in as he unzipped his fly, slowly kicking his pants off, eyes meeting yours as the kisses began from his naval to his muscular thighs, and his ankles, before pulling away momentarily.

“I see a man who’s always been selfless and brave for other people, and never taken a thing for himself.”

You almost whispered, one finger slipping under his boxers, pausing, then continuing when he didn’t object, sliding the cloth down, down, down, till it was at his ankles, and it, too, got to join the pile of clothes on the floor. His hands were shaking worse now. You gingerly let your hand approach his cock, half-hard, and slowly wrapped your fingers around it, thumb rubbing against the tip as he gasped lowly, breath shuddering as his hips tried to jolt.

You didn’t stop him. That was a rule between you two, one that had been discussed before, no holding down or forcing, consent, and safe-words. He had a history, one he hadn’t shared yet, but you’d be patient and let him open up when he wanted to.

”Please,”

He breathed, head thrown back as you began gently rubbing, leaning down to slide the tip in between your lips, giving small licks as his body bucked up. You weren’t one to deny him, not when he was so relaxed now, taut muscles turning to putty beneath your fingers and mouth as you took him deeper, licking under his shaft, before sliding more in as he let out a low groan that sounded like a whimper, almost.

He was mumbling something under his breath, mouth agape as his hand snuck into your hair, trying not to be rough when he buried his fingers into it. He might’ve been begging, you couldn’t make much out of it, though.

Willing your throat to relax, you slid your throat down on him, further and further until your nose met the happy trail between his legs, and you saw the muscles of his thighs tense, flickering and jolting slightly, a sign of his impending climax as you lowly bobbed your head up and down. His hips jolted to life, though you could see the conscious effort he made to not harm you at all. With the shallow thrusts he made, it wasn’t long before he was moaning something incoherent, words slurring with a thick British accent he could usually keep under wraps.

Gingerly pulling off of him, you took a deep breath, softly panting as you grabbed the water bottle on the nightstand and took a swig, the liquid washing down whatever was left behind in your throat. You moved up on the bed, hand slipping under Simon’s head and carefully lifting, placing a pillow behind it, and bringing the bottle to his lips.

He would need the fluid after that, probably.

His throat bobbed as he drank it, nearly emptying the entire bottle, before you drew it back and screwed the lid back on, placing it onto the nightstand. Slipping out of bed momentarily, you opened Simon’s underwear drawer, grabbing the softest pair of boxers you could find, before returning to him and carefully maneuvering his legs through the holes, pulling up, and managing to get them decently onto his large frame as he grunted, one large hand tugging at your arm to pull you down to him.

You hummed in acknowledgment of his little tug, laying down beside him and grabbing the blanket, pulling it over the both of you and settling into the arms he wrapped around you, face settling in the nook of your neck.

”Thank you.”

He whispered, eyes wet against the warmth of your skin. You weren’t sure which thing he was thanking you for, exactly, but you replied anyway, to the man who’d given and given and given and never asked for anything.

”Anytime, Simon.”