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joelscruff · 5 months ago

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imperfect for you (joel miller x f!reader)

masterlist | a/n written for @janaispunk's 1500 kisses challenge! i got joel + nose kisses with this lovely moodboard and actually managed to write something!!! believe it or not this started out as a drabble lmao. i hope you like it jana - sorry it's a bit late, and congrats again on your milestone 🤍 summary: you never thought joel miller would accidentally call you baby. warnings: age gap (joel is mid 40s, reader is 23), fluff, very brief instance of blood, tending to a wound, joel is eepy, soft kisses, cuddles word count: 5.5k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics

"When's the last time you slept?"

He doesn't bother to grace you with an answer, hands clenched on the steering wheel as you barrel down the vacant stretch of highway back to Lincoln. He's been ignoring you for the past fifteen minutes now, eyes straight ahead, brow furrowed, jaw clenched. But he looks pale, almost sickly, the whites of his knuckles stark against the sudden greenish hue of his skin. The last thing you need is for him to pass out and for the two of you to crash into a damn ditch.

"I'm just saying," you continue with an exasperated sigh, "I could drive the rest of the way, we're almost there."

No reply. You roll your eyes and cross your arms indignantly in the passenger seat, returning his icy demeanor. He's in one of his moods again, the ones only Tess really knows how to handle, but you'd volunteered to try your hand at a supply run in her stead which means she's not here to mediate. You should've known some issue would arise, stubborn Joel inventing problems in typical Joel fashion.

"You could've tried to last at least one more hour pretending to like me," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear. He doesn't say anything.

Almost a year of working with them now, and you still don't understand him. You're not sure you ever will. Tess, she's much easier to understand, much more open to being understood. She'd seen your potential and taken you under her wing, brought you in to help, taught you everything you needed to know about smuggling. And Joel... well, he's a different story.

"You know, Tess thinks I have promise," you continue anyway, expression crumpling into a scowl, "She thinks I can do this. I don't get why you don't."

No answer.

"And don't say it's 'cause I'm a kid, because I'm not. I'm twenty three now, I'm past the point of being called a fucking kid. The shit I've seen in that QZ-" you cut yourself off, shaking your head, "I'm not a kid."

His lack of response is beginning to hurt deeper than you'd really like to admit. You glance over at him again; he's still staring straight ahead, still ignoring your presence. It makes unwanted tears prick in your eyes, nose stinging a little as you peer down at your lap and fold your hands together.

You'd been excited for this supply run, probably against your better judgement. You'd wanted to show him how much you know and understand, how hard you've been working, how you're up to the task. Hoped maybe he'd give you a smile - rare, but not impossible - and tell you that you did good, that he sees potential in you too.

You care what he thinks, almost more than what Tess thinks. And you know why, can sense it deep in the pit of your stomach and in the way your heart stutters when he looks at you, but you're clearly living in a fantasy world if you think he's ever gonna get past whatever this stigma is that he has against your age. She's too young, Tess. She'll get hurt, Tess. She shouldn't be doin' this, Tess. You've heard it all, muffled through closed doors in a dark and damp hallway.

He doesn't want you, and you're not sure how much longer you can go on like this. If he's not willing to change his stance, view you as anything other than an inconvenience...maybe Tess will have to find somebody else to help out.

"I know what I'm doing," you mumble, a tear dribbling down your left cheek, "I just wanna help."

You spare him one more look, fruitlessly hoping that maybe he'll feel bad now that he's made you cry - a childish thought, considering you're trying to make a case for being mature, but you can't help it. You know he's capable of being gentle, of being kind. You've experienced it with him before, quiet moments between the two of you in his apartment while waiting for Tess to return, making small talk, him peering at you with a softness in those brown eyes that have since made frequent appearances in your dreams. Moments where you swear you felt wanted under that gaze, but it must've been in your head, because you certainly don't feel wanted right now.

He doesn't look well, you have to admit. His skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, getting paler by the second, turning an unnatural grey color akin to some of the hair on his head. His eyes are glassy, dark bags settled beneath them that you've noticed getting worse and worse over the past few weeks. You shoot a glance at his hands again and are surprised to see that he's loosened his grip, that his fingers seem to be trembling against the rubber.

"Joel," you say, raising your voice a bit, "Joel, are you okay?"

His lack of response no longer angers you - it worries you. Carefully, you reach over and slowly wrap your hand around his right wrist, eyes trained on his face. At your touch, he finally turns to look at you, almost like he's only just noticed you're even there.

"You say somethin'?" he asks, voice raspy, a bit slurred.

Your grip tightens on his wrist, "I think you should stop the car."

He looks at you curiously, dazedly. It's the expression of a man who's running on two, maybe three hours of sleep in the last few days. You choose your next words carefully, eyes flickering back and forth toward his face and the road that he's suddenly no longer watching.

"Let's slow down a bit," you murmur, thumb stroking gently along his skin - he's warm, warmer than normal - "I'm gonna drive the rest of the way, okay?"

You expect some pushback, an attempt at an argument, but the tiredness is setting in quickly. Without any hesitation he eases his foot off the gas and you hurriedly reach your own leg over into his space to push down on the brake. He doesn't seem to notice the way your bare leg brushes his jeans, the crease in your knee bending over the warmth of his thigh.

"There we go," you say softly, bringing the car to a slow stop. He's still looking at you, eyes unfocused as you carefully lean over a little more to unbuckle his seatbelt. You try to ignore how good he smells, how big he is compared to you, putting all your attention on getting him out of the front seat. You unlock his door and then unbuckle your own belt, hurrying out of the car to his side.

"M'okay," he mumbles as soon as you open his door. You start to help him out, and you think he's becoming a little more aware of the situation now, allowing you to pull him to his feet as you tug open the back door. "What's happenin'?"

"You're just tired," you tell him softly, "It's okay, you can sleep in the back, I'll drive."

"Bill n' Frank's," he says as you lead him the right way, pushing him a little and helping him place his knee down on the seat, "Y'know where it is? You remember?"

"I do," you tell him confidently, your hand coming down to press flat against his back - he's so solid, heat radiating against your palm, "Only twenty minutes away now, I got it. You just sleep."

He doesn't argue; in fact, he makes your job easier by crawling onto the seat and settling down with a low groan, rolling onto his back and breathing deeply. You can't help but let a small smile cross your features, watching as one of his hands comes up to rest atop his belly, the other dangling onto the floor. His eyelashes flutter a little, lips parting, and you're about to shut the door when he speaks again.

"I know you jus' wanna help, baby."

You stand there for a moment just staring at him, confusion racing through your thoughts. Goosebumps rise on your flesh as the last word repeats like a mantra in your head, steady and slow as Joel drifts off. It's only when the door is shut and you're in the front seat that you're able to put some meaning to the words, eyes wide as you stare at the faded lines on the road.

I know what I'm doing, you'd said, I just wanna help.

You leave him in the car when you get to Bill and Frank's, typing in the gate code with a backward glance at his loose form in the backseat. They must see him on one of the security monitors, because as soon as the doors open you spot them sprinting out of the house toward you, a scanner gripped in Bill's hand. Typical.

"He's okay," you tell them as soon as you're out of the car, instantly alleviating their stress, "He's just exhausted, I think he needs to sleep for a little while."

"Understatement of the century," Frank replies with a relieved laugh, eyeing the backseat, "Think we can get him in the house?"

"Just leave him in the car," Bill says with a wave of his hand, already turning to head back towards the house with the scanner hanging out of his pocket, "He'll be fine."

Your gaze meets Frank's and he rolls his eyes, "Come on, baby, let's get him upstairs." Your brows go up at the pet name, the same word that had fallen from Joel's lips only twenty minutes ago, but then Bill is shuffling back over with an annoyed look on his face and you quickly realize he's not talking to you.

Getting Joel out of the car proves to be a lot more difficult than getting him in. You try a gentle approach at first, brushing his arm and stroking his skin with your thumb again like you'd done earlier. You can feel Frank's eyes on you as you squeeze Joel's bicep, his wrist, his thigh, and you pretend you don't see the look that passes between him and Bill as you step out to let them take a turn.

Bill goes for a much more aggressive approach, shaking Joel's shoulders wildly and practically yanking him out of the car. Understandably, Joel wakes with a gasp and kicks his legs out, hand reaching for his pistol as he frantically tries to escape Bill's grasp. Before he can grab it though, he's suddenly falling forward, knees buckling as he faceplants onto the pavement beside the car.

Well, that certainly wakes him up. His hands press into the gravel and his head shoots up, blood trickling down his nose as he peers up at the three of you, stunned.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Bill," Frank groans.

"That was not my fault."

Ignoring them, you kneel down and gently touch Joel's shoulder, a concerned look on your face as you eye the splattered blood on the ground, "Fuck, are you okay?"

"What in the hell is goin' on?" he groans, turning to look at you, "Did Bill just break my fuckin' nose?"

"Don't be dramatic," Bill barks, spinning on the spot and heading into the house, "Shoulda just left you in the car."

Joel starts scrambling after him, rising up and standing on wobbly legs, hand reaching for his pistol once again. You and Frank grab him before he can do anything, both of you taking an arm and holding him back.

"Joel, you're exhausted," you tell him quickly, utilizing all your strength, "You just need to lay down. Please."

He turns his face to look at you and something flutters in your chest when you catch the way his eyes soften, the anger in his expression fading as he acknowledges your presence. You can vaguely make out Frank watching the two of you in your periphery, but you try your best to ignore it, instead opting to give Joel a reassuring smile.

"Let's just get you cleaned up, okay?"

You're grateful that Frank leaves you alone with Joel to tend to his nose. You've only met him a handful of times, but each time he'd somehow been able to clock the way you interact with Joel, the way you look at him. The last time you'd been here he'd subtly pulled you aside to give you a few words of wisdom.

"You do realize he's extremely unavailable, right?"

"I- I don't know what you're talking about."

He'd smiled, tapped his nose and given you a knowing look, "And I don't just mean because of Tess. That man is emotionally constipated, kiddo. He's an island." He'd laughed then at your confused expression, shaking his head, "Just be careful, s'all I'm saying."

You'd gone to walk away, forget the conversation even happened, when he'd softly called after you:

"And I'm pretty sure Tess would hang your head on her wall."

You think of those words now as you stand in front of Joel in the small bathroom off the landing, lip between your teeth as you eye the cut on his nose. It isn't broken, thank fuck, but you can see some dirt and gravel in there that you need to clean out.

"It's not broken," you tell him softly. He's sitting on the edge of the bath tub, peering up at you with a much more alert expression. The fall definitely woke him up, not to mention the choice words he and Bill had thrown at each other as you and Frank helped him up the stairs. He's still exhausted though, and he needs to rest.

"I know it's not," he grumbles, "Just wanted to give Bill a piece of my mind for once."

You laugh softly as you reach for the damp cloth beside you, bringing it up to carefully pat it against the gash on the bridge of his nose. You can feel his eyes on you, watching and assessing as you do your best to wipe the area clean.

"I can do that myself," he murmurs.

"I just wanna help," you say quietly, and your eyes fall to his in a knowing glance. He doesn't seem to remember though, just nods and lets you carry on.

It's rare for you to be this alone with him. And by that, you mean this far from Tess. You're painfully aware that it would be impossible for her to walk in at any moment, to see the way you're standing over him, touching him. Frank's words from last time echo in your head but you're not quite sure you believe them; would she really be that angry if she knew how you felt about Joel? It's not like he'd return it, right? The man is twenty years your senior and, as Frank said, extremely unavailable. Not to mention Tess and Joel's relationship has been a point of confusion to you for a year now, still unsure exactly what they are to each other - would she really care?

You reach for the antiseptic - one of the many perks of having an injury in a supply house - and carefully dab some onto the cloth. Your hand trembles a bit as you reach up to carefully hold Joel's chin, your thumb getting lost in his greying beard.

"You haven't shaved in a while," you breathe, your eyes meeting his, and you wonder if you've already crossed a line by even noticing.

He doesn't seem to mind though, sighing deeply, "I haven't slept in a while, so let's hurry this up," he eyes the cloth, "Don't gotta warn me, just do it."

His words bring you back to the present, and you slowly ease the cloth down onto his cut. He hisses a bit, a normal reaction, but it only takes a few seconds to clean and then you're already reaching for a bandage, reluctantly letting go of his chin.

"I was worried about you, before. In the car," you tell him softly, unpeeling the adhesive, "Why haven't you been sleeping?"

His eyes fall to the floor, "I just don't sleep good. Never have."

"Is there anything I can do?"

He shrugs, gives you a humorless laugh, "Handful o' pills and a couple sips o' whiskey usually does the trick."

It makes sense, then, why these past few weeks he's seemed worse. It's been longer than usual since your last supply run and the three of you had started running out of vital supplies over a week ago now, not only for buyers but for yourselves. Joel had written whiskey near the top of the latter list, along with hydromorphone which he'd underlined several times.

"You should've told me you weren't feeling well," you murmur, applying the bandage carefully, "I could've driven the whole way."

"Could've, should've," he dismisses you with a grunt, "Doesn't matter now, does it? We got here, that's what counts."

You linger a little longer than you should on the bandage, thumb falling to gently trace the crease of his nose as you assess your work. It might scar, but it feels pointless to voice this - he already has so many, scattered across his face and neck like confetti. It hurts a little, knowing he's been through so much, seeing the evidence written all over him.

"My mom had this superstition," you tell him softly, a smile playing at your lips as you trace one of the scars under his eye, soft and delicate, "Whenever I got hurt, skinned my knee or busted my elbow playing, she'd bandage me up and then kiss it. She said a kiss would seal her love in there, keep me safe and protected. And if it scarred, that meant it worked."

He blinks at you, expression faltering a bit, "That's...that's a nice thought."

You shake your head, "It's silly, and not true. But... but I still do it anyway, even though she's gone. Just in case," you bite your lip, "I mean, who doesn't wanna feel a little more safe? A little more protected?"

Your gazes lock, and neither of you seem to move, caught in the stillness of the moment and the way your thumb is still stroking his face. You know you have limited time, maybe a few seconds before he breaks it, so without much thought at all you lean down and lightly press your lips to the bandage, eyes closed.

He inhales sharply, a sound that triggers butterflies in your tummy as you hold your mouth against his nose, soft and sweet. It's the closest you've ever been to him, even if you're kissing gauze and not skin - you can still feel the warmth radiating from him, sense the way he freezes below you. A squeaking sound pierces the silence, his hand squeezing the edge of the bath tub tightly. It startles you, your eyes blinking open as you pull back to look at him.

His cheeks are tinged pink, eyelids heavy as he peers up at you with slow blinks.

"You're tired," you breathe, unable to stop your hand from flitting to his hair, pushing a little behind his ear, "Let's get you to bed."

The Joel Miller in Bill and Frank's guest room is not the Joel Miller you thought you knew.

This Joel is loose, pliant. He lets you lead him into the bedroom with a hand on his back, lets you carefully turn him on the spot to reach up and undo the buttons on his flannel. Frank had told you on your way up to make sure Joel didn't get blood on the sheets, so you're only following orders, only doing what you were told.

"Sorry," you murmur softly, fingers shaking every so often as they toy with the buttons, sticky with his blood. Joel doesn't seem to notice though, retreating more and more into the sleepy state he'd been in earlier.

Once his flannel is off you assess his t-shirt and jeans, and you're not sure how to feel about the fact that they didn't get dirty in the fall. On the other hand, though, you're not sure you'd have been brave enough to take them off. Instead you help him toward the bed, pull back the sheets and carefully push him ahead.

"There you go," you whisper, helping him under the covers and pulling the blankets back over him. The sun is streaming through the window, casting the golden light of early evening across the bed, and while it's quite beautiful you shut the curtains anyway, knowing he'll sleep better in darkness. When you turn back around, he's already fallen asleep, lips parted, face peaceful. A different man.

You don't linger, even though you want to.

It's around ten o'clock when you decide to check on him again. You'd watched a movie with Bill and Frank, feeling more than a little unwelcome as Bill tossed you a few dirty looks every so often, though Frank repeatedly told you to ignore him. Now they're in bed downstairs while you pad from your own room across the hall to Joel's, turning the knob carefully. The hinges squeak a little as you open it and you wince.

"Who's there?" you hear Joel grumble from the bed. So much for just taking a peek.

"Me, just me." You push the door wider and walk inside, eyebrows going up when Joel turns on the bedside lamp. He seems a little more rested, although you know he still needs a full night's sleep. "I sent a message to Tess through the radio to let her know we're not coming back tonight - well, Frank did. Picked a song called Tomorrow or something like that."

"Hope it was the Johnny Mathis version," he mumbles, and you watch as he brings his hands up to rub across his face. He accidentally dismantles the bandage and you step forward without really thinking, hurrying to his side and reaching down to fix it.

His hand comes up to grab yours and you freeze in place.

"I can do it," he says, giving you a curt look and then releasing your hand to adjust the gauze himself.

Well, you suppose lax and sleepy Joel couldn't stick around forever. You stand awkwardly by the side of the bed, toying with the edge of the blanket as he rubs his eyes and sits up a little, leaning back against the headboard. He looks so much older in this light; you can see the little flecks of grey in his beard and hair that have been starting to get more noticeable lately, the crows feet, the wrinkles.

He's so handsome.

He turns to look at you with a frown, as if he's only just realizing what you said, "We can go back tonight, I'm fine."

"You're not and you know it. Besides, it's already past ten and now I'm tired, I won't be able to drive."

"I can drive."

"Joel," you surprise yourself by sitting down on the edge of the bed, narrowing your brow as you give him a serious look, "You can't drive. You almost fucking killed us both."

"No I-"

"Yes you did," your tone is firm, suddenly angry - are you angry? - "If I hadn't been talking to you, if I hadn't noticed something was wrong, you would've driven us off the damn road."

He goes quiet at that, frown deepening, the lines on his face more prominent in the low lamplight. You sigh, eyes falling to rest on where your hand is settled on the bed, only inches from his. Part of you wants to reach out and touch, feel the warmth of his skin, the rough of his palm - the other part decides to do something even more stupid.

"You called me baby."

It's out of your mouth before you've even really acknowledged it, and once the words have tumbled out you know there's no taking them back. Your gaze snaps back up to his, slightly surprised to see that he doesn't seem very shocked by your admission.

He clears his throat a little, averting his gaze and shuffling a bit under the covers, "Did I?"

"...Yeah."

You think maybe he'll say something else - anything else - but he doesn't. God, it really is like pulling teeth with him; he's so fucking beautiful but so impossible, never being able to expand on something unless prompted, never being able to answer a single question without jerking you around first. How the fuck has Tess managed to deal with it for so long?

The thought of Tess sends a wave of guilt through your body, Frank's words echoing in your head, but you shove it down.

"What made you... I mean why..." your voice is soft, apprehensive and shy in the quiet of the bedroom, "why'd you call me baby?"

A beat of silence. Then-

"Don't ask me that."

The mood has shifted, your sudden anger ebbing and his annoyance fading into something else, something on the brink of being real. He's avoiding your eyes, peering at the window with the curtains drawn and tapping his fingers anxiously against the mattress, so close to your hand. He's nervous; you're making him nervous.

You stay silent, hoping he'll speak again, hoping maybe just this one time he'll tell you what he's thinking.

"I don't know why."

The words are barely a whisper, almost like he's telling you a secret, and he leaves them hanging in the air briefly before amending - "Well," he sighs and finally looks at you, an emotion you can't place crossing his features, "that's not true. But... I didn't mean - fuck, I was passin' out, for Christ's sake, I didn't realize-"

He cuts himself off again, raising his hand up to press his fingers to the bridge of his nose, briefly forgetting the bandage. He winces when he comes in contact with the gauze, "Can I take this off? It's drivin' me fuckin' crazy."

"Let me do it," you say quietly, inching forward on the bed and reaching for his face. He flinches when you go to touch him, and your hand freezes mid-air.

"Sorry," he mutters, shaking his head like he's shaking off a sensation, a chill, "Go ahead."

With careful - and slightly trembling - fingers, you remove the bandage from his nose. It looks much better than before, no fresh blood in sight, and you suppose it's okay for him to keep it uncovered for the night. Without really thinking about it you gently thumb the side of his nose just shy of the cut, the tips of your other fingers brushing against his cheek.

"It's not too bad," you murmur, and before you know it you're suddenly cupping his jaw, feeling the weight of it in your palm. Your gaze falls to his lips, your thoughts going a mile a minute.

You realize you're close enough that you could kiss him, if you really wanted to. If he really wanted to. All it would take is one small movement, one little push from the both of you, one leap of faith...

And then he whispers your name, almost a warning, and it's like his thoughts are mirroring yours - like he can see exactly what you're picturing, wishing for. Your eyes meet his and you feel a flutter in your stomach when you see the way he's looking at you, a quiet hunger hidden in the deep brown.

You decide to test the waters. You lean in and softly press another kiss to his nose, this time without the gauze in the way. Just like you'd thought, his skin is hot under your lips, soft but scarred, and his smell - god, he smells so masculine and safe, invading your senses as your lips trail downwards to press a small kiss to his cupid's bow, then another to the corner of his mouth. It's sharp, prickly from his scruff, but it doesn't bother you in the slightest - in fact, you kind of like the dull pain, the way it grounds you, keeps you in the moment.

"Baby," he whispers, and a soft little whine falls from your lips without meaning to as your lips move to ghost across his mouth, going for another kiss - a real kiss.

He pulls away before you get there, but then his hand comes up to touch your face, big and wide. He holds you like you're precious, small. His baby.

"S'not right," he whispers, though his thumb strokes your cheek soothingly, "S'not okay for me to want you like that."

You close your eyes at his touch, breathing deeply, "But you do."

"Yeah, I do," you hear him murmur, "You know I do."

"For how long?"

He doesn't respond right away, just continues to stroke your cheek, hold what feels like all of you in his warm palm. You tilt your head a bit to the side, eyes fluttering open to look at him again. You catch the way his lips turn up a little at the movement.

"Too damn long," he sighs, "But that don't... that's not..." he brings his other hand up to cup the other side of your face, holding you still as he peers at you in earnest, brow furrowed, "Point is, we shouldn't... you shouldn't be out here alone with me. Tess knows how I-" he cuts himself off again, and you can see now how difficult it is for him to communicate like this, to be open and honest, "I told her it wasn't a good idea."

"Why?"

He laughs lightly, thumbs circling the apples of your cheeks, "'Cause look where we ended up." He swallows, eyes falling to your lips, "Look where you are right now, baby. Look where my damn hands are for cryin' out loud."

"Keep calling me baby," you breathe, a desperation in your voice that betrays your emotions, tears pricking in your eyes as the weight of this conversation comes crashing down around you. He wants you - he's always wanted you. His words to Tess about not wanting to put you in danger, wanting you to stay away, those soft looks you've shared in his apartment, the small talk, all of it - it's because he wants you.

"We can't do this," he murmurs, leaning in to press his forehead to yours, eyes closing, "I can't do this, you're so- you're too-" he groans, fingers digging into your hair, "You're so young, baby."

"I don't care," you whine, butting your head forward to chase his lips, suddenly yearning to be kissed and held and protected by him, be wrapped in his embrace.

But he pulls away, removing his hands from your face and shuffling back a bit on the bed, away from you. Your hand drops but you reach out pathetically for him anyway, moving closer, attempting to pull the covers back. His hands capture yours and he squeezes them firmly, shaking his head.

"You need to go back to your room," he tells you, and his tone has changed from soft to serious, "It's late and I'm... well, you know I'm fuckin' exhausted. And you've had a long day." He looks at you with pleading eyes, like he's silently begging for you not to put him in this situation, "Let's just call it a night, okay?"

"But-" you start, tears shining in your eyes.

"Please," he breathes, "Please don't make this harder than it needs to be."

You do not want to get up from his bed. But you do.

You do not want to leave his room. But you do.

You do not want to lie awake in your own bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how his hands felt on your face, the way his eyes searched yours, the way his skin felt under your lips.

But you do.

You lie there for hours, thumbs twiddling against your belly, tears trickling down your cheeks every so often. All you can hear in your mind over and over again is the word Baby, punctuated by that soft groan he'd made, the way his thumbs had stroked your cheeks, how large and warm and safe he'd seemed in that bed.

All you want to do is be in that bed with him.

So it's no surprise when, as the sun is beginning to rise and that warm golden light starts to stream through your window, you crawl out from under your blankets and cross the hall one more time.

"We shouldn't" he murmurs when you climb into bed with him, when you tuck yourself into his side and bury your face in his shoulder, but his hands are already in your hair, fingers stroking along the back of your head.

Your bodies mold together like they've always been meant to fit that way, your legs tangled with his, arms trapped under big biceps and hairy forearms, breasts flush with his suddenly bare chest.

"I wanna be your baby," you whisper.

The nose you'd kissed brushes slowly up and down the side of your face, and he doesn't hesitate this time. He reaches up to turn your head, presses his lips against yours and lets you melt into him. Lets you trail your hand downward to unbutton his jeans in the silence of the early morning.

"You already are."

#joel miller x reader #*#1500 kisses challenge

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siriuslylantsov · 14 days ago

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gentle exfoliation

pairing: spencer reid x reader

description: in which you help spencer after he gets shot.

tags: fluff, established relationship, fem!reader, casual nudity (nothing explicit is mentioned), pain meds mentioned, little hurt/comfort, spencer feels undeserving, reader takes care of him.

a/n: little fluff, i just need to take care of that boy hes so :( also dont ask me about showering with crutches, idk how people do all that just dont! think about it too hard. some ace lore, i fractured my wrist and had a cast for 2 months, i wrapped it in a plastic bag and would fold it up after for the next shower. #reusereduceandrecycle am i right? anw! happy reading, lmk what you think!!

wc: 1.1k

you trail behind spencer as he slowly makes his way up the stairs. he hops onto the next step with his good leg, using the crutches to pull the rest of him up, he's methodical and careful with his movements. the doctor said stairs would be fine, as long as he took his time, but it still felt like too much exertion in your opinion. you protested when he denied derek's help but you were met with pleading eyes, i want to do this myself, forcing you to concede. that doesn't stop you from hovering a hand over the small of his back as he climbs the next step.

a dull click reverberates through his apartment door as you unlock it, letting spencer in first. he beelines for the bedroom, and you set both your bags down on the couch, following him. he’s perched at the edge of the bed, kicking off his shoes. his shoulders are slumped in exhaustion, dark circles around his eyes as he looks up at you. you rake a hand through his hair–you realise how long it is as it passes through your fingers. you twirl the ends before letting it fall.

“wanna take a shower?” you suggest softly.

he nods and you lead him to the adjoined bathroom with his arm over your shoulder. you lean against the door frame, itching to help him.

he looks at you, puzzled. “are you going to watch me undress?” he asks, unbuttoning his shirt.

“yeah, it's a great view,” you shoot him a cheeky wink, making him blush. deciding to be meaner, you give him a once over, checking him out unabashedly, the hue on his cheeks growing pinker. your teasing falters a little as your eyes pass over his knee and the bandage wrapped around it, his pants now on the floor. he makes note of the flash of concern that passes over your features and gives you grace by asking for your help. to which you rush to the kitchen for some cling film and return to him.

kneeling, you wrap the area in plastic, over the gauze, you don't care, making sure to accumulate enough layers so water doesn't seep through. it's a subpar job, but you spring up proud anyways. “so the wound doesn't get wet,” you explain, head tilted up.

he gives you a goofy smile, amused, but covered in so incredibly in love with you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. you tip your head back, returning the smile. even slouched and leaning, he's so tall.

when he steps into the shower, you step in with him, work clothes still on but at least you've shed your jacket. how is he supposed to shower with one hand, you reason, his other hand holding onto the crutch. he doesn't stop you though, he doesn't stop when you turn on the water, he doesn't stop you when he suddenly feels self-conscious that he's fully naked and you're not, he doesn't stop you when you start to run the water over his skin and slowly lather the soap on his shoulders. rather, he pouts.

“what's wrong?” you immediately ask, alarmed by the look on his face.

“you're getting your clothes wet,” his words are morose, like it's the worst thing in the world.

“baby,” you coo, bringing a soapy hand up to his face, caressing it softly. he leans into your touch. “i don't care that my clothes are wet, i'm taking them off after this anyway. i just want to take care of you. please let me.”

god, he doesn’t deserve you, and he thinks that as he looks at you, eyes tracing over your features, features that will him to surrender. he doesn’t want to be a burden. he knows you’ll take the week off, stay with him, and make sure he’s well cared for. yet you won’t push him—won’t smother him. you’ll give him space unless he asks for more. like you’re doing now, helping him because he asked for it. and still, he feels like shit. you're too sweet to him. even as you're standing there, drenched, cleary not upset by the ordeal, he still believes he doesn’t deserve this.

you watch as this inner turmoil makes its way through him, his thought process so loud you can hear him. you wipe a tear away from his face that he didn’t realise spilled, he was crying. “do you want me to leave?” you ask, extremely patient, giving him the room to say yes if he wants. he shakes his head, no. “okay, i'll stay,” you press a chaste kiss to his lips and continue washing him.

the tap squeaks as you turn the water off, moving aside so he can walk out. you strip out of your clothes leaving you in your bra and underwear, damp but better than dripping water all over the floors. you hold his crutches as he puts a bathrobe on, its purple with yellow stars on it. you follow him out of the bathroom but go back after retrieving your pyjamas and a towel.

“i'll be two seconds,” you mumble and faintly hear him hum in acknowledgement. you quickly have a shower and change into some clean dry clothes. it's a relief, admittedly. you'd been in the same rotation of outfits, having stayed in the hospital for a few days, with an insufficient supply of clothes in your go bag. but you didn't care much, wanting to stay beside spencer.

when you walk out, towel wiping your face, you see him sitting on the bed. fully clothed. you smile at him, feeling brighter. “oh, you changed,” you observe, you were ready to dress him.

“mhm, folded the cling wrap for tomorrow,” he responds, and it's sweet how he thought to save it. you walk to the living room, rooting around in your bags and return with his pain meds, tylenol to his request, it being fairly mellow. you hand him a cup of water and a pill.

“we’ll wash your hair tomorrow, okay?” he nods, looking at you over the rim of his glass. he downs the rest of the water and sets it down on his bedside table.

turning off the lights, you make your way to your side of the bed, slipping under the covers. he does the same, scooting closer to you. he's on his back since he doesn’t know which position feels comfortable yet, so you curl into his side, resting your head on his shoulder. your eyes follow the steady rise and fall of his chest. you hear him inhale, as if preparing to say something, you wait.

“thank you,” he breaks the silence with a quiet whisper, hand wrapped around your back giving you a gentle squeeze.

you reach up and kiss his cheek, “it's nothing, i’d do anything for you.”

m.list

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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jezebelblues · 1 month ago

Text

dress to impress | h.s

summary: in which you're a famous streamer n you finally let harry join one of your streams. (though the evening ends a bit differently than you expected)

cw: smut18+ oral (m receiving), daddy kink if u squint, spitting, fem!reader, unedited

word count: approx 3k

| yes yes i know that dti didn’t come out till last year just pretend 😔 also btw if this is cringe random then pretend i don’t exist fr i got this idea cause caseoh randomly posted a dti update while i was at the gym so thank u caseoh

masterlist

December 2021 | London

Snow dusted the window softly, frosting the glass and sending melting droplets downward against the pane, dancing in the direction of the wind. The world was still in the throes of the pandemic, which allowed the lines between professional and personal to blur a bit.

YN had been a popular streamer for a few years now, but her numbers only grew once her relationship went public with the award winning, globe-trotting man that was Harry Styles.

She had been avoiding this moment for months. Not because she didn’t want it to happen—oh no, she had definitely wanted Harry to join her on a stream, like a thousand times—but Harry had this way of throwing himself into new situations with such confidence that it was bound to lead to some seriously chaotic results.

But her fans, their fans, had been relentless. Every single time she went live on Twitch, no matter what game she was playing—among us, fortnite, mario world—the chat exploded with one resounding request: Get Harry on the stream!

At first, she’d brush it off with a smile and a laugh, always saying something like, he’s busy in the studio, or, he’s still getting in the hang of gaming, you don’t want to see him struggling on stream, trust me. But by the time December rolled around and the UK was stuck in another lockdown, YN realized she ran out of excuses to give. It was time to bring Harry on camera.

And so, on a cold December evening, she caved.

Harry was sitting in the same room. It was originally supposed to be an office, but since YN’s online career began to take off, it slowly transformed into a streaming room. Three monitors sat on a white desk in front of a large window. The one that sat in the middle showed the view of the stream and chat, while the other two were to be used for whatever.

Harry sat on a small couch in the center of the room, his head against the arm as he lazily scrolled through his phone, completely unaware of the chaos he was about to unleash on the internet. He looked effortlessly perfect, as per usual, in his gray sweats and oversized lavender hoodie, His growing curls were clipped into a tiny bun that sat on top of his head, a pair of brown glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

The glow of the computers illuminated the room as she finished up last minute technical checks, string lights twinkling around the edge of the room for a warmer glow. YN adjusted the camera, smiling brightly as the viewers started to pile in, the chat exploding from the sight of Harry in the background. “So,” she began with a giggle, averting her eyes from the screen to her boyfriend that sat comfortably behind her. “y’ready to join us, lovey?”

He looked up from his phone, his features softening as he shut it off. His eyebrows quirked in that familiar way as he chuckled. “Oh, honey.” He sighed playfully as he stood up, ambling over to the spot behind her chair. “I was born ready.”

“Uh-huh.” She laughed, tilting her head backward to catch a glance from underneath him. “Sure you were.”

He placed a quick kiss against her forehead before he sat in the chair beside her, settling in and staring at the center monitor which revealed the chat that moved in an insane quickness. He leaned over toward YN, shoulders barely touching as he waved at her camera with a wide smile.

She snorted, pushing against her boyfriend as she leaned over to point to the other monitor with a smile. “Look, baby.” She said softly, adjusting the camera that belonged to that computer before pulling up the game roblox. She gently explained to him the set up of the stream, informing him that all he had to do was sit in his space and the chat would see him just fine.

And they would, it took YN over twenty minutes to set the stream up in a split screen sort of way, which would allow the viewers to see both YN and Harry, and their respective screens for gameplay.

“Oh.” Harry giggled, as he scrolled throughout the roblox website randomly. His gaze shifted between his screen and the center monitor, reading out whatever messages he could since the chat moved so quickly. He scoffed, shaking his head. “How hard can this be? Look at this!” He laughed, nodding toward his screen.

His girlfriend snorted, shaking her head as she pulled up the game dress to impress. “This isn’t grand theft auto or fifa, I don't think you'll magically be good at this.” She grinned as she leaned over again toward Harry, pulling up the same game on his monitor.

“Oh ye of little faith.” He chuckled as he watched the game load in, wiggling his eyebrows at the camera. “I’ve got this.”

harryfan1: OMG ur kidding i literally knew it

ynfan2: no WAY LMFAO

harryfan2: HES ON

YN couldn’t help but laugh as she read the chat aloud. “You guys are way too excited for this,” she teased. “Harry’s not that big of a deal.”

He feigned offense as he looked into the camera with his jaw slack, a huff escaping his lips. “Absolutely bonkers.” He laughed breathily, referring to his girlfriend that sat beside him. He let his shoulders falter as he settled in a bit more, a grin spreading across his lips as the neon lobby of dress to impress loaded in.

YN’s eyes flickered between both the camera and Harry as she explained the premise of the game, smiling at his cocky eye rolls and the flood of heart emojis and keysmashes from the chat that seemed to express a collective internet scream.

“Would you like my help?” YN asked, humor lacing her words as she stared at the theme that flashed over the screen, winter wonderland.

Harry cracked his knuckles, tongue in cheek as he shook his head, darting around the game’s lobby in search for the exact outfit he envisioned.

She laughed at him, quickly putting on a cute outfit with hair and makeup that went along perfectly. Something elegant, a cream colored warmth. Her smile grew as she glanced at the chat, then to Harry’s screen.

user3: whos gonna tell bro

user4: oh honey…

His avatar was dressed in white, baggy jeans with a puffy winter jacket that had a hawaiian pattern on it. Harry could feel her eyes on him as he placed a santa hat on his avatar for the finishing look. The skin tone of the character was still a default gray, completely bald with no face. His smile began to falter as he looked over toward his girlfriend’s screen. “How’d you do that?” He pleaded, his mouth falling into a frown as he watched the timer go down. “I’ve got no face!”

She laughed again as she showed him how to put hair and makeup on, as well as put an actual skin tone on his little avatar. She couldn’t help but ask what the hell he was envisioning for his outfit.

He grinned as he spun his avatar around the lobby. “She’s wishing for Florida.” He said, pointing toward the screen. “She’s dressed in warm clothes but the patterns show she wishes to be elsewhere.”

user5: this guy has got to stick to writing songs

When the voting started, YN’s outfit was praised by the chat and those in the server—many of whom were fans who were able to join the same lobby.

And then came Harry’s turn.

The second his avatar strut down the runway, there was a moment of lag in the chat before it quickly exploded once more.

“Oi!” Harry exclaimed, pointing at the camera with a snap. “Five stars or m’not releasing the third album.”

YN’s mouth fell agape as she watched Harry place first, watching her boyfriend fold his hands together and shake them in victory as he hummed the tune to as it was. (a tune his fans were completely oblivious to) which only let his smirk grow wider.

The next theme was royalty, and YN figured this one would be easier for Harry. After all, the man was basically British royalty in his own right. Surely he could nail this one.

But once again, Harry’s choices were questionable, but of course it made complete sense to him in his own mind.

While YN opted for a pretty gown and tiara, Harry—ever the wildcard—dressed his avatar in what could only be described as a pirate. For royalty.

She stared at his screen, dumbfounded. “H..that’s a pirate.”

“Royalty of the seas, love.” He winked, “captain Styles at your service.”

The chat went ballistic again, loving every second of Harry’s presence on screen.

user6: h pulled out the arrgh 5000s

user7: HARRY PLEASE

They played a few more rounds, with Harry’s outfits growing increasingly outlandish each time, much to the delight of the viewers. The banter between them never let up, and the stream quickly became one of YN’s most popular broadcasts ever.

As the night wore on and the final round came to an end, YN leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms over her head. “You guys are so spoiled.” She grinned in the direction of the camera. “I hope you enjoyed.”

Harry nodded, his smile unwavering. “And what did we learn tonight?”

“That this is why you have stylists?”

He scoffed before he muttered out a no, raising a finger like he was about to make a profound statement. “We learned that I am a roblox fashion icon in the making.”

She burst out laughing again, and this time, she didn’t stop. Her laughter was infectious, and soon Harry was laughing alongside her, neither of them able to take the game—or themselves—too seriously.

“Well baby, fashion icon or not.” She said, poking her boyfriend’s cheek gently. “I think we all learned this might not be your true calling.”

He gasped in mock offense, swatting her hand away and clutching his chest dramatically. “Rude. Just y’wait—next time I’ll come prepared. I’ll have a roblox fashion strategy ready t’go.”

She smirked, titling her head in his direction. “Next time, huh?”

He paused with a smile, considering. “It was a bit of fun, but next time it needs to be guitar hero or something. I’ll wipe the floor with you on that one, gorgeous.”

The chat immediately lit up again, the fans going wild at the thought of Harry in the streams more often than not, especially if he got to show off his musical side. Some were already throwing out more ideas for the future:

Play minecraft!

Get this man on the sims!

Releasing an album simulator (but irl)

YN smiled again, clearly amused by the flood of suggestions. As the stream began to wind down, she and Harry took a few moments to read some of the comments and thank the viewers for tuning in. They said their goodbyes, waving at the camera and promised to do something like this again soon—though YN wasn’t sure if Harry had fully processed just how much the fans would hold him to that.

As she logged off, Harry stood from the chair and stretched his hand above his head with an exaggerated groan, revealing his belly button and the ferns peeking out from the hem of his sweatpants. She rolled the chair in his direction, resting her head against his waist with a content sigh. “Everyone loves you.”

He smiled, letting his hands fall onto her shoulders and rub them gently. “What can I say?” He hummed, a cocky sarcasm laced in his words.

“You’re impossible.” She whispered against the wrinkled fabric of his hoodie, though the words held no bite.

“Oh, please.” He laughed, “You enjoyed it, watching me flounder around.”

She shrugged innocently, tilting her head upward so her chin rested against his abdomen, their gaze fixed onto each other. Her smile was lazy as she parted her lips, “It was funny watching you struggle.”

His breaths caused her head to jut softly back and forth as she continued to lean against him, his fingers running through her hair as he hummed. “Funny huh?” His tone was gentle, delicate, as his fingers ran down from her hair to caress her cheeks, making her shiver. “Y’think its a game to tease me, hm?”

She felt her pulse quicken, a tension settling around them that replaced the previous banter. “I wasn’t teasing.” She said, her voice softer than before, but the hint of a smile still played on her lips.

Harry took the teeniest step back as his hand fell from her cheek to her chin, gripping it ever so slightly. His thumb brushed against her bottom lip, beckoning her mouth open. “No? Cause you’ve been doing it all night.” His voice was low, authoritative, and sent a rush of heat through her. He tutted toward her as he gazed down at her through his eyelashes, wanting her to part her lips a bit wider. His thumb slips into her mouth, the pad of it pressing down against her tongue.

“I think y’like pushing me.” He murmured, his breaths even and slow as he continued to hold her mouth open–which only allowed it to salivate even more. His eyes flickered from her lips to hers, a smile beginning to play upon his lips.

“What should we do about that, hm?” He cooed as he dragged his thumb away from her tongue, wetting her chin as his hand dropped to the side of her neck. Her own salvia glistened in the warm glow of the fairy lights around the room.

Her breath hitched as he bent at the waist, pressing a kiss onto her lips with his hand still cupping her neck. She melted into it, a heat pooling between her thighs as she felt his tongue against hers. His breath was cool with peppermint, his hair the scent of lavender and vanilla.

They part slowly, strings of saliva snapping from the mutual disconnect. His bottom lip tucks between his teeth as he reaches him, gripping the back of his hoodie’s collar and pulling it off overhead. His chest rises and falls quicker than before as YN’s fingers lightly trace over the ink of the moth of his abdomen, the wings fluttering with every breath. His hands find hers as he pulls it toward the hem of his sweats. “Now,” He sighs heavily, watching her through half-lidded eyes, “be good f’me.”

She nodded as looped her fingers underneath both his sweats and his boxers, tugging them down in one continuing, slow motion until his cock slaps against the skin underneath his belly button.

Her eyes find his, to which he grabs her chin once again, jerking it to face upward toward him. He leaned down as her lips parted, kissing her hungrily before pulling her bottom lip down gently. “Open.” He muttered, watching as she held her tongue out for him. She watched as his lips curled before spitting onto her tongue, saliva drooling from his lips to pool onto her tongue.

She could feel her heartbeat in her core as he straightened back up, especially when he combed his digits through her hair and gripped as he reached the crown of her scalp. With her tongue still out, she neared the head of his cock—slick with precum already and the prettiest shade of pink. She swirled around the slit, watching through her eyelashes as his jaw clenched shut, a heavy exhale falling from his nose.

Her lips formed an ‘o’ as she enveloped the tip completely, closing her eyes as she savored the taste of him. She started off slow as she bobbed up and down his length, closing her inner cheeks around his cock with a hum. “Fuck.” He grunted, tightening his grip on her locks as he bucked his hips slightly. YN wrapped her hand around his length as her lips fell from his tip with a wet pop. She spat onto his cock, stroking him as she dipped her head down toward his balls, lapping and gently sucking the skin there, which had him tilt his head back in pleasure. Veins were more prominent in his neck as he groaned, the coil in his belly tightening. “Such a good girl.” He moaned softly as she wrapped her lips around his cock again, taking him deeper, her throat convulsing around the head that swelled with the threat of release. “Taking daddy’s cock so good.”

She hummed again, the reverberation causing his toes to curl against the carpet. He gathered her hair into a makeshift ponytail in his fist, guiding her movements as moans continued to fall from his lips. She could feel him begin to twitch in her throat as she gagged on his length, his movements sloppy. She could feel his quickened breaths from the way his lower abdomen fluttered against her forehead. “M’close baby–” He grunted, loosening his grip on her hair only slightly. “W-where.?” He choked out in pleasure, his abs rippling and tensing under the glow of the fairy lights, glistening from sweat.

She only trailed her hands up his bare thighs, gripping his hips as if to keep him in place. She wanted to taste him, to suck him of every drop entirely.

His cock pulsed against her tongue as he thrusted once more into her throat, shooting white ropes of come into her mouth with a moan. Her head continued to bob as she swirled her tongue around him, licking every drop of his release to the sound of his whimpers–the prettiest sound she’s ever heard.

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as she parts from his cock, placing a few lazy kisses along his navel with a smile. He swallows hard, brushing strands of hair from her face with a lopsided smile. “I could get use to this.” He teases breathlessly, watching as his girlfriend shrugged his pants back up his long legs with a grin.

She stood from her chair, pulling Harry into a kiss. His tongue brushes past her lips, his knees weak at the taste of himself mingled with her saliva. She hums against him, cupping his cheek as she parts. “Don’t get use to it, pretty boy. You still sucked.”

He laughed, his cheeks flushing a shade of pink as he shot a haphazard wink toward her. “Actually baby, that was all you.”

#harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles concept #harry styles au #harry styles streamer #harry styles gamer #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles headcanon #harry styles x yn #harry styles fanfic #harry styles drabble

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holdmytesseract · 3 months ago

Text

... what the future holds ...

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: One look at Maggie's ultrasound picture is enough to question your future - and Daryl's...

Warnings: fluff, suggestive smut (it gets really spicy), talks of babies

Set in Season 6!

Word Count: 1,4k

a/n: Lil' story is done! This was planned to be a drabble, but well... 😆 I love how it turned out, though!

Right up your alley, @dixons-sunshine ? 🤗

Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist °☆• Echoes of Hope Masterlist

The van jolted softly underneath your body, as you leaned against Daryl, who was sitting beside you; head resting against his shoulder. You were on the verge of sleeping in, when he suddenly gently squeezed your upper arm with the hand he had wrapped around your shoulders. Tiredly, you lifted your head and looked up to him; blinking. Daryl didn't say a word and just nodded at his hand, who held out a little quadratic picture to you.

Sitting up a bit, you took from Daryl's whatever it was he was handing you. Since you had been on the threshold to dreamland, your brain needed a moment to catch up and grasp what you were looking at...

It was an ultrasound picture.

Lifting your gaze, you were met with a smile from Glenn, who sat opposite you. You couldn't help but to smile back at your friend, before you took another proper look at the picture - at the future. You positively couldn't wait for another wonder after Judith to join the big family everybody had grown into. Sure, the world was dangerous, but had it ever not been dangerous? Of course in different kinds of ways, but nevertheless...

You ran your thumb over the picture; so engrossed in the miracle you were looking at, that you didn't notice Daryl watching you. He saw the never-ceasing smile on your lips. The happiness radiating off of you. The shimmer in your eyes - and perhaps, the archer had detected something else... Longing. Something that threw him quite a bit off track and caused his heartbeat to quicken.

You took a last look on the precious, life-changing picture and handed it on to Abraham, who took it from you with a small smile himself. Then you slid back into Daryl's embrace; resting you head against his shoulder once more. This time, though, you were facing him with a smile. One corner of your boyfriend's mouth twitched up into a soft smile as well.

Words were never exchanged. He just gave you another squeeze and pulled you closer.

The first word you spoke with each other was that night after the meeting Rick had convened. It was already quite late; almost midnight.

You were laying in bed and reading a book; secretly watching Daryl undress. He unbuttoned his shirt and slipped out of his shoes and jeans with a grunt - and you noticed immediately that the feeling you already harboured in the church was resurfacing... Something was on his mind. You just couldn't pinpoint what it was – yet...

Once undressed to his black underpants, he slipped inside the bed and underneath the sheets; making himself comfortable beside you on his back, hands crossed behind his head and eyes directed at the ceiling.

You watched him for another moment in silence, before you decided to make your move. Putting the book aside, you slowly inched closer and placed a hand on his cheek; letting his scruff tickle your palm, as you propped your chin up on his biceps. "Daryl... What's bothering you, huh? Tell me." "Nothin'. 'S jus'..." The archer shook his head slightly, before his blue-grey eyes settled on yours. "I... I saw the way yer were lookin' at tha' picture..."

You frowned a little bewildered. "You mean Maggie's ultrasound picture?" Daryl nodded; chewing on his lower lip. You raised an eyebrow and smiled softly. "Why? How was I looking at the picture?" You saw the love of your life swallowing hard; trying to scrape all his bravery together and say the word out loud.

"Longingly. Ya looked at tha' picture longingly, 'n..." He stopped to take a deep breath. "N now I ain't gettin' that damn thought outta ma head." "Which thought?" You asked as you gazed deeply into his eyes; trying to read him.

"Tha'... Tha' yer might, uh, wan' this, too..." The archer finally said; gnawing on his thumb now. "I-I mean settlin' down, 'n, uh... Start a family..." His voice was barely above a whisper and his cheeks held a deep crimson colour. He avoided your eyes; breaking eye contact.

As for you, you felt like your heart had just skipped several beats. Not just one... "Wha'?" You almost croaked out. "Y-You mean... Having a-a baby?" Daryl nodded hesitatingly. "Yeah, uh, would ya... Would ya wan' tha'?" "Would you?" You shot immediately back; not answering his question.

Once again was the man biting his lip; the gears in his head turning - you could tell. After a long moment of silence, he shrugged his shoulders slightly. "Dunno, darlin'. I... 'M not exactly daddy material, ya know. 'S not in ma nature. Didn't have a good role model after all..." "I have to stop you right here, Dar..." You shook your head and moved to prop yourself up on your elbow; palm gliding from Daryl's cheek, down his neck and stopping on his chest. "You haven't noticed, have you?"

The archer blinked; clearly not following your words. "Notice wha'?"

A soft smile spread over your face. "How good you are with Judith. How sweet and caring. You're perfect daddy material, Dar... In my opinion anyways."

Daryl said nothing, was apparently speechless. He just looked at you for an seemingly endless moment, before he found his voice again. "Ya never answered ma question, Y/N..." He whispered. "Would ya wan' tha'?" Your eyelids fluttered as a blush crept on your cheeks. "I-I... Yes. I always... wanted kids." Your boyfriend swallowed hard; deft, calloused fingers scratching his goatee covered chin. "A'right, lemme rephrase tha'..." He said and took a deep breath; voice trembling slightly. "Would ya... Would ya wan' tha' with... with me?"

Once again tugged a smile at the corners of your mouth; your eyes gazing deeply into Daryl's as your fingertips gently caressed the skin on his chest. "Daryl... I wouldn't want that with any other man in this world. Only you. There has always been only you." "Yeah?" Daryl croaked out. "Ya ain't jus' sayin' that so I dun feel bad?" You couldn't help but giggle and shake your head again. "No, you sweet idiot. I'm not. I really would want that with you. I love you, Daryl."

The archer lifted a hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear; the other landing on your hip. "Yeah, I love ya, too." You smiled and dipped your head to slot your lips perfectly against his; kissing him leisurely. Only a few seconds passed, before Daryl's other hand travelled to your hips as well; biceps bulging softly as he pulled you closer, until you ended up on top of him. Both bare legs straddling his sides and lips still connected.

Soon enough started Daryl's hands to wander once more and slipped underneath your sleep t-shirt; feeling your soft skin underneath his palms - and that was the moment you pulled back from the kiss, before this went any further.

The archer's hands immediately stilled on your ribs; mere inches away from the swell of your breasts as you silently stopped this. Blue-grey eyes looked up at you; clouded with desire, love, worry and a touch of insecurity. "Everythin' a'righ', darlin'?" Daryl's husky voice urged to your ears. You nodded and twisted your bottom lip between your teeth, as you sat back on your heels - and Daryl's crotch, which caused a low grunt to escape his lips, alongside a muttered curse. "Damnit, woman..." "You never answered my question either, Dar," you prompted; completely ignoring the obvious and instead tracing the tattoos on his chest with the tip of your pointer finger. "Would you want to start a family? With me?"

The man underneath you clearly had a hard time focusing and setting his thoughts straight, but once he did, another soft blush spread across his cheeks. "W-Well, if, uh, if tha's somethin' ya wish for, I-" You shook your head and pressed your pointer finger against his lips; shushing him. "Uh.Uh. I asked what you want. This isn't just about me."

Daryl just looked at you again, then started to nod softly. "I won't lie to ya, darlin'... The mere thought of becomin' a daddy scares the shit outta me, but... Yeah... Yeah, I can imagine startin' a family with ya." "You sure about that, Dar? You don't just say that to please me?" You teased him, just like he did earlier. The archer just scoffed. "Nah. I mean it." You couldn't help but giggle and lean down to kiss his nose - what interpreted the archer as an invitation to catch your lips with his.

Daryl smiled; fingertips starting to map out the dips and curves of you body once again. When he reached the back of your bare calves, he stopped and gently nudged his nose against yours; breaking the kiss you shared. "Does tha' mean we, uh, start tryin' for a baby now?" You shrugged your shoulders and gave his sides a little squeeze with your legs. "You tell me."

Tags: @celtic-crossbow @belitoxx @lou12346789 @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @mischief-dream @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @sweetz1919 @0-aubrie0 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @stiveroon @cakesandtom

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i-love-ptv · 10 months ago

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Pretty When You Cry

Pairing: Felix Catton x reader

Fluff/comfort + tiniest bit of smut <3

Felix being a sweetheart and comforting read when their down!

An: Hey lovelies! This blurb is a bittt rushed ngl, but I wanted to post something since i’m currently writing something a little longer than usual. Didn’t wanna leave you guys hanging ;)

“Ya feel tha’ baby? It feels s’good doesn’t it? Focus on me baby, none of that other stuff foggin up that beautiful head o’yours.”

As absurd as this solution was to others, the way that Felix had dropped everything for you made you feel butterflies.

Felix could tell you weren’t feeling the best as soon as you walked into his dorm; you were wearing a sweater.

Now Felix didn’t care if you wore sweaters or not, at the end of the day, he’s okay with whatever you wear as long as you’re comfortable. But this wasn’t just a sweater, it was the sweater.

It was the sweater he gave to you before winter break; when you two returned home to your families. You had said that you were going to miss him, and didn’t know if you’d manage without him. This resulted in him giving you his peach sweater. It smelled like heaven; it smelled like him.

You wore this sweater whenever you felt troubled; not caring how ridiculous you looked with the ginormous article of clothing.

Felix automatically knew that it was one of those days. He wasn’t going to poke you very much. He wanted you to open up when you were ready, but he didn’t want his sweet angel to suffer in silence.

Which led to him grabbing you and laying you on your side on his bed.

So here you were: back to his chest, as he slowly pumped in and out of you. His strong arms wrapped tightly around your front.

Just when you had felt like the world was turning against you, he was there to bring you back from the clouds and into his grasp.

“M’sweetheart, let go f’me. Please baby? M’right here with you. M’not goin anywhere.”

You mewled and panted as he spread your legs a bit more so you can feel all of him.

You can feel how you’re not alone; how you’ve got someone on your team. You can feel how no matter what life throws at you, he’ll always be there to pick you back up.

Why?

Because he’d never let his angel suffer in silence.

#lee’s writing! ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎#felix catton #jacob elordi #oliver quick #saltburn #felix catton x reader #jacob elordi x reader #oliver quick x reader #felix catton x you #felix catton imagine

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oceantornadoo · 7 months ago

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measure up (simon riley x f!reader)

body image talk, period references, ten thousand girly problems at once. very fluffy, no smut. kinda ooc simon? hes a lil talkative in this but it’s ok. enjoy!

“dove, d’ya have my-“ simon stopped mid sentence, body freezing. there you were in your bedroom, measuring your waist in front of the mirror. you looked up, dropping the measuring tape like it was on fire. “hey.”

simon closed the door to your shared door quietly, then walked towards with the grace of a trained killer. his face was hard to read, even without the mask. “i know what we talked about but i was just curious because my shirt looked weird in the mirror and i didn’t meant it upset you ijustwantedto-“ he grasped your hands with his own, stopping them from flying around your body in an attempt to draw his attention away from you. you, who were now on the verge of tears for no good reason, words rushing together at the end of your sentence. “look at me.” he tilted your chin up, dark eyes locking with your own.

“y’know you’re about to start your period?”

“ugh i know don’t remind me-“ he grabbed your chin, harsh but not unkind.

“confirm or deny, dove. tha’s it.”

“yes.” you confirmed (a bit breathlessly, the command in his voice sparking a heat in you).

“and y’know you get bloated before your period.”

“yes.”

“so it doesn’t make sense to stress about nature.”

silence. a lot of it.

“i guess.”

he clucked his tongue at that. “yes, dove. and you know i love you no matter what you look like. you know i like having somethin’ to grab on, whether it’s big or small. y’know you could be any size in the world and i would care because it’s you. and i know that we’ve been t’gether awhile and bodies change and i don’t care. am i right?”

you nodded slowly, the cloud of insecurity in your mind slowly fading. “i know, si. i just can’t help that tween voice inside of me sometimes, telling me i look too big.” he drew you towards him into a gigantic hug, tucking your head under his chin. “i know, baby. jus’ think reminders help sometimes.” you nodded against his hard torso, breathing slower now. against his body, it was easy to remind yourself no matter how big or small you were, he could manhandle you all the same, decades of military training and exercise making up his body no matter how much home cooking he ate. a superficial comfort, but it worked all the same.

—

this was gonna turn into smut but i kind of lost steam oops. wrote this instead of working! i ❤️ corporate america

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod 141 #ghost call of duty #tornadothoughts #fluff #simon riley wife #simon riley imagine #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley fluff

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ghouljams · 1 month ago

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Another Ghoul Rewrites The Shining this time with one Mr. John Mactavish. The Overlook Hotel might be getting to him...

(cw: dacryphilia, biting, breeding, light misogyny, threats, non-con -> con, dark!Soap, f!reader, horror au, ghosts, manipulation, madness/insanity, Dead Dove Do Not Eat)

I'm not responsible for you not reading the content warnings, this is a horror au, don't complain to me about it.

"Ahm nae gonna hurt you baby," Johnny tells you, the playful mirth of his tone feeling more mocking than comforting as you sob. He backs you up the stairs, his hands grabbing at the bat you wave. It feels playful, his grin crooked as you shake and scream at him.

"Stay away from me!" You sob, your voice feeling shrill. You have to stop him. You have to get out of here. You have to get your son and get out of here.

"Ahm nae gonna hurt ya," he repeats it, as if that will convince you. His hands grab the bat when you swing it at him. Your shoulders heave and you silently beg for him to let you go, pulling at the bat with every weakness you have against your husband's strength.

Johnny shoves the bat back against you, the end of it punching into your solar plexus and knocking the wind out of you. You tumble back against the stairs, releasing the bat to scramble up them as you try to catch your breath. You're sure your tears do nothing but egg your husband on as he grips your discarded bat in both hands and breaks it over his knee.

"Dinnae let me finish hen," he coos, taking another step towards you, "Ahm nae gonna hurt ya, ahm just gonna hauld ya down and remind ya who tha' cunt belongs tae."

The way he says it leaves no room for debate, it makes your blood run cold. You scream and clamor up the stairs. Johnny's hand wraps around your ankle and pulls you back down. You sob and claw at the carpeted steps, trying to gain purchase when you can barely see through the tears.

You kick back at Johnny, trying to catch any solid part of him before he yanks you down the steps a second time. Your chin catches one of the carpeted stairs and you see stars as your teeth clatter together. He takes the opportunity to push your corduroy overdress up and yank your fleece pants down. You try to blink the ringing out of your ears as Johnny rubs his cock between your folds.

Hyperventilation seizes you quick as he presses the blunt head against your tight hole. He's thick enough to hurt even with stretching, but now? Now you scream, shriek with something between anger and fear, and twist to push at him. It's just enough to get him out of you, to let you suck in a breath. Johnny catches your hands and tugs them behind your back with a grimace. He pulls your arms hard enough to inspire a fresh wave of tears as your shoulders scream in pain.

"Come oan hen," Johnny rasps, pulling you back to rut his cock between your thighs, "it's just like when we play pretend." You shake your head, yank at his grip and try to get your feet under you on the steep steps. "Ya cry an beg, but in the end ya always give in."

"Please John," You beg, "please, don't hurt me."

"Aye just like that, cryin' so pretty fer me."

"Oh god-" you hiccup trying to stop the violent sobbing that breaks your words apart, "-you're gonna kill me-" your tears blind you, your nose runs like a loose faucet, "-you're gonna chop me up, you planned it, I saw!" The rest of your words jumble together, beat black and blue by the heaving of your ribs as your world comes crashing down.

Johnny's grip on you loosens a fraction. Some measure of lingering hesitance swallowed down as he presses against your back. He molds himself to your spine, making the steps dig into your stomach. His nose pushes into the hair behind your ear, and he draws a shaky breath. It feels like your husband, like all the other times he's chased you through the house, and you sag under the weight of how much he's changed.

"I don't want tae kill ya hen," Johnny murmurs, "but they fill mah heid with all this-" he tenses, his body rigid and poised to attack, it makes you cower to feel such a predator pin you down, "-Ah gotta get it out of me, or ah really will hurt ya."

You press your forehead to the step and try to stiffen against your body's shaking.

Just like a scene, you try to convince yourself. It's just like the scenes you've played out with Johnny a dozen times. You're sure if you can find that soft fuzzy head space it'll protect you from whatever comes next. This has to be a scene.

Except you've never felt truly afraid during those. You've never felt your ribs lock when your husband's cock rubs over your exposed cunt, never felt the blistering heat of shame creep over you so aggressively. He's always moved a hand to guide himself to your entrance but now he uses both to keep you pinned, rutting against you like an animal until you're suddenly filled.

You're sure the shriek you let out could wake the dead.

Johnny's big, he knows he's big, and he's always been careful with you. Even when playing he'll find a way to stretch you out before trying to shove his cock into you. There's no preamble, no build up, just the searing heat of being stretched past your limit on your husbands fat cock. The warmth that surges through you leaves you trembling in Johnny's grasp, your teeth grit and your breath heavy as you try to manage the pain.

The only soothing you get is the grind of Johnny's hips against your ass, his lips against your shoulder as your brain plays catch up with your body. Heat burns at your entrance, stretched uncomfortably tight and dry around your husband's cock. There's no slick to ease the grind of his cock against the deep pit in you. Still, your eyes flutter, some awful spark of recognition seizing your nerves. Your body knows this part, knows the sting of pain, the dull throb of biting pleasure that digs its claws into your stomach and pulls it tight.

"There ya go, just like playin' pretend." Johnny murmurs against your ear, "Chokin' my cock squeezin' me like that."

Your face pinches in pain as he pulls out. The blunt head of his cock nudges against the soft spot by your entrance and you make a noise without meaning to. You can feel the teeth of Johnny's smile against your neck, before he's hammering his cock against the spot.

You scream again, sobbing for a different reason as you feel your cunt spasm, pleasure and tight pain lacing through you. Your skin heats, your clit tingling as he hits that tight bundle of nerves over and over again. It's a strange feeling, feeling each plunge of his cock, each knock against your walls, grow a little wetter. That must be his intention, working you into a dripping mess so that he can use you however he likes. But God. Why does it have to feel so good?

You choke on your gasps, your sobs garbled and incoherently groaned against the steps. Your stomach draws tighter and tighter, and your eyes flutter as you try to focus on the violation and not the orgasm your husband is forcing you towards. If you can just keep your mind on the way he'd chased you down, the way he'd ripped your pants down and pushed inside, maybe you can stop the rising tide of orgasm.

It doesn't work. Your brain is too addled with the other times he's done the same thing. How many times has your husband held you down and taken his pleasure from you? How many times have you begged him to? You've ruined yourself for him, and let him ruin you in turn. Even if you could hold onto the disgust and fear, your body betrays you.

You thought he'd laugh when he finally pushed you over the edge, your cunt fluttering around the shallow thrusts as you soak his hastily unbuttoned pants with your squirt, but he doesn't. It's just his hot breath against your throat, his canines scraping the skin as you whimper around your orgasm. There's a simmering of desire under his lips that seems to worm its way through your veins. Poison deposited in your carotid that addles your brain and makes your hips jump in his hold.

What you should have anticipated is how quickly he shoves the whole heavy length of his cock back into you. The path slick with your orgasm and your walls still spasming, he pushes himself as deep as he can. The sudden fullness makes you gasp. It doesn't hurt quite the same this time. You're too sensitive, your nerve endings lit up to feel every inch of his cock as it drags against your soft walls. It melts your brain, that slick burn sets you alight and you find your hips wiggling back against him.

"So bonnie when ya cry f'r me," Johnny hums, catching the tears that drip from your jaw with his tongue, "Told 'em Ahd have ya beggin', teach ya yer place. Fuck-" he pulls back, thrusts into you in a sharp staccato that punches breathless moans from you, "-anno ya love it, tryin' tae milk me like a fuckin' vice. Stupid fuckin' whore, runnin' fr'm yer 'usband."

"Fuck," you whine, between gasping breaths, "Johnny, baby, fu-uck."

"Aye, there she is," Johnny laughs, "see bonnie? Nae gonna hurt ya." He wraps a hand around your throat, cushioning it against the steps as he pushes his weight into his thrusts. You let out a garbled moan, it sounds so animalistic you're almost surprised it came from you. God the way he punches his cock into you aches, it's nauseating, it's so fucking good, it's too much for you to handle, it's going to drive you insane. That heavy throbbing pleasure that twists darkly in your stomach makes you tighten up again, makes you painfully aware of the way he's kept your arm twisted. Like he's still afraid you'll make a break for it, as if you had the strength to get free.

"Tell 'em 'oo ya belong tae, mah bonnie." Johnny grunts. You're dizzy with pain-pleasure, your eyes are swimming with tears, but you're almost convinced you can see them. The party of onlookers, dressed in outdated clothes, their smiles rueful, twisted with cruelty as they sip champagne and watch your husband take you apart. They blur, and fall apart with the drop of your tears.

"John-ny," You moan, "Johnny, Johnny, please."

His tongue follows the track of your tears, his lips pressing soft against the corner of your eye. "Aye, tha's right." He's so patronizing, cooing to you like you're a stupid animal, "An' Ah'll keep remindin' ya, remindin' all of ya, until Ahm sure it took."

That sticks in your melted mind, something in the way he says it has barbs, a promise of something more than just this violent coupling.

"Wha-" Your eyes roll as he squeezes your throat, just enough to make you light headed.

"Shhh," He presses his lips to your temple, "be good for me, bonnie, dinnae wanna make y'r 'usband mad now." You push back into his hard thrusts, you're good, you're so good. You can feel the heavy breaths he takes, the only indication he's given that he might be close to his own edge. "Gonna be so pretty when yer fat with ma bairn." He murmurs, and you clench tight around him. His resulting groan is deadly, delicious, barely a precursor for the way his teeth sink into your neck.

He fucks you breathless, his cock fucked into you so fast you can't do anything but scream for him. You feel warmth bloom on your neck and know he's drawn blood, but you can't find it in yourself to care when he's so rapidly pushed you to the edge again.

You sob, claw at the steps with your free hand, squirm away from his heavy thrusts, whatever you can to stop the explosion of burning heat that he pumps into you. Your cunt aches, your clit throbbing with needy tingles. You can't even string the necessary words together, but Johnny understands you anyway, dropping your arm to work his own under you and pinch your clit.

Stars burst behind your eyes, and you shake apart in his hold. He rolls your clit between his fingers, letting your cunt milk him as his thrusts slow into uneven grinding and finally still. His hips press tight against your ass and he releases his hold on your neck with a shaking breath.

Johnny pulls away from your back and you collapse boneless against the steps. His hands run over you, ease your arm carefully back to your side, gentling motions so different but so familiar. You can feel the drip of his come when he pulls his softening cock from you, hear the click of his belt as he fixes himself, apparently in no hurry to give you your dignity back.

Instead he rolls you onto your back and grabs your arm to haul you up and over his shoulder.

Like a caveman taking his prize home after a hunt, you think, your eyes drifting closed.

#cod x reader #x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #john mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap mw2 #soap cod #soap x reader #f!reader #the shining au #non con #tw rape #dead dove do not eat #dark!Soap #dark fic #happy halloween

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taintedcigs · 9 months ago

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Steve loves driving you around.

Picking you up, dropping you off, random late night drives, random 'please come with me to run some errand' drives.

Everything.

You always assume he would hate it, get bored, annoyed, from having you just sitting there. But it's all he wants. needs.

Have you right there by him, pretty smile curving on your lips, the light wind from the cranked down windows whiffling through your skin, hair, causing your scent to linger in the air. Comfort filling the space.

His thick palm gripping the wheel, while the other is lightly pressed upon your thigh, squeezing three times to let you know he is there, protective, sticky-sweet, enough to fill your stomach with all the butterflies.

Your hands return the favor, tender fingertips brushing against his possessive grip, almost to ground him, bring him all the comfort he needs, his world turning on its axis every time he realizes you're his. How lucky he is to have you by his side.

You glance at him with your nose scrunched, smile adorning your glossed lips, he wants to kiss it all over, run his fingertips along your features, admire it, have it etched on to his brain. He'd do just about anything to see your pretty expressions.

Yet, all he can utter are endless compliments, "s'pretty... just like an angel, hmm?" He admires the heat traveling up to your cheeks, smile growing wider as you tell him to stop, but he could never.

He brings your hand to his lips, pressing gentle kisses all over the back of it, warmth traveling through him instantly.

Rest of the ride is filled with shared, tender kisses, whispers of compliments, and the two of you singing along to your favorite songs he made a mixtape of, it's nothing short of caring, attentive, and everything you need wrapped up in a bundle.

He hates when it ends, when he inevitably has to drop you off to your destination, heart leaping out of his chest when that small smile disappears from your lips. His does too - knowing that the warmth and comfort would leave with you.

"What time should I pick you up, honey?" It always makes you feel bad, like some sort of a burden, and he can sense it in your anxious gaze.

"Stevie, y'know I can just walk-" And he tuts quickly, never letting you finish. You don't realize it, how much he enjoys this - the comfort you bring to him just being by his side, and his incessant need to keep you safe.

"Nuh-uh, will you be done by 8:30?" He asks with a smile, you tilt your head with a narrowed gaze, all adorably that Steve melts, all over again.

"Steve."

"Sweetheart," he parrots, wicked grin on his lips that makes you giggle, dreamy gaze that you can't say no to. "Mhmm, 8:30 is perfectly fine," you give in, so easily, so quickly, giving him comfort when he leaves you with a simple goodbye kiss.

And just like promised, he's there, at 8:30 - not a minute late, with that beaming smile, glint in his gaze that makes you feel so giddy that you skip your way into his BMW.

Steve turns toward you with a beaming grin, one hand holding the door open, while the other is stuffed with a bouquet of flowers, warmth filling your heart instantly.

You squeal at the lilac Asters and the eggshell white Baby's breath adorning the bouquet - you know to acquire those flowers he had to make an almost twenty minutes trip away from Hawkins, but Steve would do anything for you. Speechless and grateful, your big doe-eyes look up at him, tears almost welling, before you can speak, he gives you a light kiss.

"I picked up something to eat on my way here," he mumbles, smile so big his cheeks hurt from the stretch, but he can't help it. He'd do anything for you, his pretty, pretty girl.

And he knows you so well.

The two of you drive back the same way he got you there, munching on the fries, his hand on your thigh while you helped him sip on his cherry coke, telling him about your day, his mixtape for you serves as a background drop.

And he doesn't understand how you'd think you could ever be a burden, because that's all he wants anyway, to take care of you, have his passenger princess by his side.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington blurbs #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #enjoy this stupidity i found in my drafts. SIGH.

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celestialprincesse · 9 months ago

Note

✨blurb/imagine request✨

i hardly ever see any plus sized reader x 141 men (specifically simon / könig / price) fics, blurbs, or even imagines. If you’re interested i’d love to see what you’d do with it! 💕

(nsfw is more than okay🤭)

Of course I can! I def think Simon looves having a girl w/ some curves! Smt about the softness and femininity of it all drives him feral.

Warnings: afab reader, nsfw (was feeling slutty today 😃)

Simon loves the way you look when you're baking. Loves the way you bop about the kitchen to the quiet sound of your playlist, swaying your hips to the beat of every song. You get in the zone, and he gets a show that has his dick getting hard in his pants.

He'd no idea what you were concocting today. Something French by the sound of it. Admittedly, he cared more about the way the plush flesh of your ass jiggled as you leant over the counter to roll out the pastry than whatever fancy dessert you'd come up with today. The sight of you vaguely reminds him of a painting he'd seen in secondary school once. Something about Venus. To him you're so much more though - you're Venus and Saturn, Mars and Jupiter. You are his entire universe.

There's something about the softness and warmth of you that drives him insane. Of course, he thinks that lots of women are beautiful, muscular, slim, tall or small. There's something about you, though, something about every soft dip and curve of your body. You're the picture of health, soft with every hearty, home cooked meal and sweet dessert made and perfected with hours of practise, concentration and love.

When the already short material of your skirt rides up? He's a goner. Thick arms looping around your waist have you giggling, leaning your head back into the crook of Simon's neck, inhaling the residual scent of yesterday's cologne and that deliciously clean, post shower smell. "What y'making?" Soft muscle and warm skin reverberate against your back as he speaks low in your ear, peppering kisses down the column of your neck whilst his hands find their way up your shirt. The way your back arches against him, pressing your ass into his crotch as he grabs a handful of your tits and squeezes softly, he's convinced there's no better feeling in the world. "Mille Feuille." You mumble breathily back as Simon nudges your lower back so that you're leaning a little further over the counter, leaving prints of your boobs in the flour you'd sprinkled on the counter so your dough didn't get sticky. "Mille Feuille." He rumbles back, lips brushing your ear as his free hand travels down your stomach, between the soft warmth of your thighs, thumb brushing teasingly over your panties.

You inadvertently clench your thighs around Simon's hand, body stuck between whether or not it likes the intrusion, and from the wet lace of your panties, you're pretty sure it's trying to keep him there. The audible squelch of your panties when Simon pushes his middle and ring finger up against your folds has you blushing, trying to escape where he's got you pinned at the hips over the counter, only receiving a tsk from Simon as he ruts his cock against your ass. "Bend over proper for me baby, yeah?" He coos, gently pushing you down by the back of your neck so that your cheek presses against the cool marble of the countertop. "Tha's it. So, so pretty f'me. So good, yeah?" Is what accompanies the back of your skirt being flipped up, your ruined underwear pushed dismissively to the side.

A whimper gets lost amongst the sound of Simon's belt being unbuckled, with one hand at that, seeing as the other is running his fingers through your folds, collecting the glossy slick that's already leaking from your hole. The way your pussy flutters around nothing just from the thought of his actions behind you is shameful, but Simon likes it. When Simon's cock juts carefully between your thighs, his hips bumping against your ass, you go completely blank, a fucked out look on your face without him even having gone inside yet. "You like that baby? Yeah?" His tone has you nodding dumbly, your hand not supporting your head coming to rub impatiently at your clit, mewling softly as you buck your hips up against him. "So needy f'me already." Accompanies the sound of a breathless moan, like you've had all the air punched out of you when Simon notches the weeping head of his cock up into you. The angle has you gasping, hands gripping at the unyielding counter as you attempt to steady yourself against his gradually roughening thrusts. "Fuck, Si." You cry out as his dick pushes against your cervix, his dark gaze probing, fiercely intense as you pant and whine. "Thaaaats it." Is groaned gently into your ear as you take the entirety of his length with a weak cry.

Simon's pace is punishing, more so that he can watch the way your ass jiggles with every hard snap of his hips than because he means anything by it. The way you whine and mewl is only an added extra. He knows when you're about to cum, by the way you grow breathless, eyes rolling back and pussy practically sucking his cock up, greedy thing. With a few last thrusts, and a slap of your butt for good measure, you keen out, Simon's own eyes rolling back when he feels the warm wash of your cum around his cock. It doest take long for him to ride out his own orgasm, pressing his chest down against your back, his head into the crook of your neck as he spurts thick, hot cum right up into the plug of your womb.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Not proof read at all !! Trying to get a lil better at writing smut 🫠 N e ways!! Enjoy!!

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anjee0 · 1 month ago

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My brother's best friend

Chapter 3 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

B Rabbit x Female!reader. (Feel free to put an oc insert if you wish as well)

Description - In which Y/n starts to become friends and possibly more with her brother's best friend, BRabbit.

Warnings - Throughout the series there will be: Mild swearing, Smut, Mentions of drugs and alcohol. (More warning to come throughout the series)

@tiny-gay-satan tagging u cos u love this series xx

Y/n wiped down the counters at the diner as she sighed heavily. She was still mad at Jordan the other night. The memories of last night quickly flashed by in her brain, occupying it as she tried to focus. All she could think about was Rabbit and how she had a great time with him last night. She'd never had anything like that before with any other guy.

Suddenly, the bell above the door chimed as it opened. Y/n looked up to see Carly entering the diner with a warm smile on her face. She sat down at the barstool and looked at Y/n sympathetically.

“Hey girl. I heard about what happened last night.” Carly said.

“You did?” Y/n asked.

“Yeah, everyone knows about the little feud Jordan and your little lover boy got in.”

“Wait? Everyone knows about that?”

“Yup. I'm pretty sure Papa Doc's gang were talking about it too.”

“Tha Free World? I hate those guys…”

“I know right, they're all so arrogant and full of themselves.” Carly scrunched up her face in disgust.

“Also, Rabbit is not my ‘lover boy’.” Y/n started putting air quotes around the words ‘lover boy’. “We're just friends.”

“I know, I'm just teasing. Do you think Jordan and Rabbit will apologise?”

“I hope. I don't want them fighting over something stupid. I feel guilty.” Y/n frowned as she looked away from Carly.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. Their boys, they’re gonna be immature.” Carly reassured her.

Y/n chuckled softly. “Yeah, I guess. It’s just, they’re best friends. They’ve known each other since high school, I don’t wanna ruin anything between them.”

“Well, if it’s really bothering you, then why don’t you try helping them apologise?”

“How would I do that? I’d just make things worse.”

As Carly tried to think of something, the bell above the door chimed again as it opened. Y/n and Carly look to see Rabbit entering the diner. He immediately laid his eyes on Y/n and gave her a soft smile before approaching her. Carly quickly smirked at her friend before getting up to move elsewhere.

“I’ll give you and lover boy some time.” She teased with a playful wink before sitting down at a booth.

Before Y/n could say anything, Rabbit was already sitting at the bar stool. The first few seconds were just silence as they looked at each other with softened expressions.

“Hey.” Rabbit said, softly.

“Hey.”

“I think we should talk about last night.”

“Yeah…”

“Listen, I wanna apologise to your brother but he definitely doesn’t wanna talk to me right now.”

“I can help.”

“You can?”

“Yeah but before that, I just wanna say sorry-”

“Don’t apologise. It’s not your fault.”

“I know but-”

Rabbit placed his hand on top of Y/n’s as his gaze lessened. She could see a spark in his eyes as he gently smiled at her and moved his thumb against her hand gently and slowly. His hand felt baby-soft, completely in contrast to his rough exterior.

“It’s not your fault. Stop apologising.” He whispered.

“Okay,” Y/n whispered back softly. “I’ll stop.”

“Now, tell me. Do you have any ideas?”

The following 2 hours consisted of them talking out ideas to try and sneakily get Jordan and Rabbit to meet up without getting anything to go wrong. It was difficult when Y/n was constantly switching between cleaning tables, taking orders, serving food and then talking to Rabbit again. Carly would glance at them every moment or so with a knowing smirk as she sipped on her chocolate milkshake or took a bite from her burger or chips.

“Okay, well that works for me.” Rabbit said, concluding the conversation.

“Right then. I’ll see you later.” Y/n replied.

‘Yeah. See you.” With those final words, Rabbit left the diner.

Immediately, Carly got up from her booth and approached Y/n and smiled at her. “You two going on another date?” She teased.

“No. We have a plan on getting Jordan and Rabbit to apologise to each other.” Y/n replied with a stern look on her face that matched her tone perfectly.

“Okay, but are you gonna act like him reaching for your hand never happened?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about!” Carly exclaimed. “You’re saying you completely missed out the part when he put his hand on yours?!”

“Oh, that. Well-”

“Oh, it’s okay Y/n. It's not your fault. How about we go on another date and make out with each other?” Carly said in a high pitched voice, clearly mocking Rabbit.

“Lower your voice.” Y/n replied. “You’re acting like a child. He didn’t say any of that.”

“Then what did he say?”

“He just told me to stop apologising and that it wasn't my fault.”

“Yeah, same thing. Y/n, he's into you and so are you. Shoot your shot.”

“We're just friends Carly. And even if I did like him, I'd probably focus on getting him and Jordan to apologise before trying anything.”

Y/n got home after her exhausting shift and immediately threw herself onto the couch. Her back ached and her muscles felt utterly sore. Her ears were ringing and she had a killer headache too, not the best combination.

“You alright?” Jordan asked as he entered the room.

“No, not really. I'm so tired from work.” Y/n replied. “Shit, I left my purse at the diner.” She groaned in realisation. “Can we go get it?”

“You want me to drive you to the diner?” Jordan asked.

“Well it's bad enough you didn't want pick me up from my shift!” Y/n exclaimed. “Had to walk with aching legs back home now I can't even get a ride.” Y/n complained as she shuffled to get up.

“Okay, okay. I'll drop you off there.” Jordan insisted.

Y/n smirked to herself at how gullible Jordan was as she got in his car. She hadn't actually forgotten her purse. She was only lying to get Jordan to drive to the diner where Rabbit was waiting.

Jordan parked his car in front the diner and looked over at his sister. “Go in and get it.”

“Actually…” Y/n began.

“Jeez, what did you do now?”

“Nothing! You just need to get out of the car.”

Jordan groaned I'm frustration as he unbcukled his seatbelt and got out of the car aggressively. Y/n couldn't help but chuckle at her brother's antics as she got out of the car.

Instead of her gong inside to the diner, she went around the back to a dark alleyway. Jordan scrunched up his face in confusion as he watched his sister going completely off task.

“Hey! Where the hell are you going?” Jordan asked.

Y/n didn't respond as she simply just continued to walk down the alleyway. Jordan quickly ran after her in a panic.

“Y/n Y/l/n! Stop walking away from me!” He shouted after her, sounding just like a concerned mother.

When he entered the alleyway, all he could see was a dead end that chips of brick falling off and muddy graffiti. He soon became panicked when he realised his sister wasn't there.

“Y/n?” He called out.

“Jordan.” A voice said.

He turned around to see Y/n and Rabbit standing behind him. His sister had a stern expression and Rabbit looked nervous buy tried to cover it with a neutral expression.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Jordan asked, feeling a spike of anger.

“Jordan, calm down.” Y/n said.

“Don't tell me to calm down! You bought me out here for nothing?”

“Not for nothing.” Rabbit interrupted. “Listen, man. I'm sorry, okay? I know asking your sister to hang out with me before asking you was wrong. And I know I should've told you before hand. I just don't want this ruin our friendship, man.”

The air was thick with tension as Jordan only stared at Rabbit with an unreadable expression. “Man, I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have gotten mad.”

Rabbit smiled Jordan, feeling relieved at his response. “So we're good?”

“We're good.”

Jordan and Rabbit dapped each other up with their signature handshake before pulling each other into a hug. Y/n exhaled a sigh of relief she didn't realise she was holding. She was genuinely happy to see that her brother's friendship was mended.

“Hey, did you walk here? I didn't see your car at the car park.” Jordan asked.

“Nah man, I walked here.” Rabbit replied.

“Hey, I'll give you a ride home.”

“Nah man, it's fine.”

“Rabbit, no way you're walking home in this cold ass weather.”

“Alright, I'll come. Thanks man.”

During the car ride, Jordan and Rabbit were discussing the rap battle taking place next week on Friday. Y/n simply instead listened whilst looking out the window, watching as the houses and rundown buildings passed her eyes.

“You can drop me off here.” Rabbit said.

“Man, don't be stupid. I can drop you off at your home.” Jordan insisted.

“I know but-”

“Rabbit. I don't care about where you live. Y/n won't either. Don't be embarrassed.” He said as he continued driving.

Y/n looked over at Rabbit and gave him a soft smile, letting him know that what Jordan said was true and that he didn't have to worry. Rabbit smiled back, feeling reassured.

Jordan stopped in front of Rabbit's trailer and dapped him up before Rabbit got out of the car.

“Alright, I'll see you around man.” Jordan said as he rolled the window down.

“Yeah man, see you too.” Rabbit replied. “Oh, and Y/n. Lily asked if you could come over some time. She likes your company.”

Jordan turned to his sister and gave her a nod, letting her know she could go. Y/n smiled at her brother before looking back at Rabbit.

“Yeah, I can do that. How's tomorrow?” She asked.

“Tomorrow's good. 10 am?”

“Works for me.”

“Alright. I'll see you then. Goodnight you two.”

Jordan and Y/n bid Rabbit goodnight before they drove back home.

Y/n knocked on Rabbit's door and waited in anticipation. For some reason, she could feel a buzz of nervousness in her stomach making it's way around to the rest of her body. She didn't understand why she felt this way, she wasn't scared for all she knew.

The door opened to reveal Lily looking up at Y/n with glee through her adorable blonde bangs.

“Y/n!” She exclaimed before hugging her.

“Hey Lily.” Y/n replied with a wide smile on her face.

“Come in!”

Lily stepped aside for Y/n to enter. The place was pretty cramped but it had a cosy feel to it. Y/n spotted Rabbit making pancakes in the kitchen and she was a bit surprised to say the least.

He wasn't wearing one of those baggy hoodies she had only ever seen him in. Instead, he was wearing a white tank top that suited him perfectly. His arms were toned with muscles that looked incredibly hot. He wasn't wearing his beanie either, revealing his brown buzz cut. Rabbit put the last pancake on the plate then turned to smile at Y/n.

“Hey.” He said.

“Hey.” Y/n replied

“Did you have breakfast? I'm making pancakes.”

“I already ate at home.”

Rabbit nodded and kissed his teeth. “Uh, I should probably change this.” He said, looking down at his tank.

“Is it not hot?” Y/n blurted out. She could feel her cheeks burning up as the words left her mouth.

“It's November, Y/n.” Rabbit chuckled. “And of course you find it hot. You're wearing layers.” And by layers, he was referencing the shirt and baggy cardigan she was wearing.

Lily dragged Y/n over to the sofa and made her sit down. Lily took her little legs to the kitchen and took her plate of pancakes. She retreated to the sofa and placed the pancakes on her lap.

“When mum's not home, Jimmy let's me eat on the sofa and watch TV.” Lily giggled.

“He's a fun brother, huh?” Y/n asked.

“Yeah, I would've watched TV but I wanna talk to you.”

Y/n felt a cocoon of butterflies erupting in her heart as Lily said that. She smiled softly at her nodded. “I would love that.”

“Yay!” Lily cheered with a mouthful of pancakes. “So can we be friends?”

“Yeah, we can be friends.”

Lily giggled and continued talking to Y/n gleefully. Her brown eyes lighted up with excitement every time Y/n would answer some of her questions. She would continue to eat her pancakes as she listened carefully.

Rabbit came out of his room and leaned against the doorpost as he watched Y/n and Lily talking. Something about the way Y/n was soft and gentle with her tone when it came to talking to his sister made him feel something that he couldn't quite explain. He took his pancakes and sat with the girls on the couch.

“Jimmy's working on a new track and I think it's dope!” Lily said.

Rabbit chuckled and Lily's interesting word choice and ruffled her hair. “Thanks baby.”

“You should listen to it after we finish breakfast.” Lily said to Y/n.

“If it's okay with your brother.” Y/n said as she looked over at him with gentle smile.

“Yeah, why not?” He replied.

After breakfast, Rabbit bought Y/n into his and Lily's shared room. The girls sat on the bed whilst Rabbit sat on his chair and played the track.

If first started off with a few notes of the piano before it quickly changed to another beat, followed by Rabbit's voiced.

Yo, his palms are sweaty,

Knees weak,

Arms are heavy.

The lyrics played. Some parts of the song were left blank with no lyrics with only the beat playing.

“I left the parts I don't have lyrics for blank for now.” Rabbit explained.

“What do you think?” Lily asked.

“I like it. The beat’s nice. And your voice goes perfectly with it.” Y/n replied.

Rabbit smiled as he felt the tips of his ears heating up as they went pink. “Yeah, thanks.”

Time passed quickly as seconds struck like swift bolts of lightning. Rain pattered against the windows, making a calming rhythm of nature. The three of them were sitting around the table eating food Rabbit had prepared.

The warm food felt perfect against Y/n's tongue as her taste buds took in all the flavour, making a satisfying sensation for her. The scent of the food meandered through her nostrils, making her want to take more.

“You're a great cook, Rabbit.” Y/n complimented him.

“Thanks. But pancakes and lasagna are the only things I can make.” Rabbit replied.

“You can make sandwiches too!” Lily said, with little bits of sauce and cheese on the corners of the mouth.

“Anyone can make sandwiches.” Rabbit said as he took a napkin and cleaned the remnants of food off Lily's face.

“Can I?” Lily asked, her voice piqued with curiosity.

“Yeah, it's easy. 2 pieces of bread with some type of filling.”

The rest of the dinner was carried out by a comfortable silence and the sounds of cutlery clinking as they hit the plate. The silence was quickly disrupted when Rabbit's mum arrived home.

“Hey sweeties.” Stephanie said, greeting her children. She then saw Y/n sitting at the table, with a smile on her face. “Oh, Rabbit, you didn't tell me you had a girlfriend.”

Embarrassment radiated off Y/n's face as her heat rose to her cheeks and to her ears, making her flustered.

“Ma, she's not my girlfriend. She's just a friend.” Rabbit groaned.

“Oh, sorry.” She apologised. “I'm Stephanie by the way.”

“I'm Y/n, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. Say, you look quite familiar…”

“She's Jordan's sister.” Rabbit said.

“Oh, no wonder! You two look so alike!”

The four of them chatted with each other, catching up on highlights for the day before Stephanie decided to retreat to her room. They also eventually finished their dinner and Y/n insisted she could help with the washing up.

Rabbit helped tuck Lily into bed whilst Y/n watched from the doorstop, a soft look in her eyes. He sang a quiet and gentle song to his sister to help her sleep. His voice sounded like an angel, beautiful and pure. When Lily eventually drifted to sleep, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead before turning the lights off and leaving the room.

“You're a good brother, you know.” Y/n said as they both sat on the couch.

“Thanks. But sometimes it just feels like I'm not.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I just have this voice in my head that's telling me that she's growing up in a shitty trailer park because of me. That we're broke because of me. And I know it's my deadbeat dad to blame for, but I can't help that it's my fault. I want to give her the best. I can't do that.”

Y/n held Rabbit's hand, her fingertips grazing his silken hand as she traced every detail on it. She could feel her stomach twisting in nervousness as she did.

“Rabbit, you're a great brother. Lily looks so happy. Everytime I looked at her, she would always be smiling at you. She loves you Rabbit and she would definitely say that you're a great brother. And nothing is your fault, okay?”

Rabbit smiled softly as his grip on Y/n's hand tightened slightly. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

Y/n looked at the clock on the wall. She read as she realised that it was getting late. She immediately got up and dusted herself off. Some parts of her wanted to keep holding his hand.

“I need to go. It's getting late.” She said.

“I'll drop you off.” Rabbit offered.

“No, it's fine. I can walk.”

“No way. It's not safe for girls to walk here during this time of night.”

Y/n sighed “Fine.”

He grabbed his beanie and put it over his, then adjusted it slightly. He got his car keys as Y/n followed him out. They got in the car, feeling a wave or warmth hit their face, a complete contrast to the icy air outside.

The car ride had no exchange of words as quiet jazz music played from the radio. When they reached Y/n's house she took one last look at Rabbit and smiled.

“Thank you. I had a lot of fun.” She said, softly.

“Me too.”

Without any warning, she reached in for an embracing hug. A caring warmth radiated their bodies and they put their arms around each other.

“I'll see you.” Y/n said after she pulled away.

“Yeah, see you.”

She got out of the car and went inside as she heard Rabbit's car driving away. Jordan was still at work. After getting into bed, she softly smiled to herself as she rewound the core memories of today. She felt a bud of happiness blooming in her heart.

A/N: thinking about making this a mini series with 6-7 chapters. Chapters may be a little longer though.

#eminem #eminem x reader #slim shady #slim shady x reader #marshall mathers #marshall mathers x reader #8 mile #b rabbit #b rabbit x reader #jimmy smith jr #jimmy smith jr x reader

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eyesxxyou · 1 year ago

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I saw one fic abt sucking hobies dick while he’s smoking a joint, and just imagine fucking him while high?? ughhhhh I’m melting rn 🙏

*ೃ˚ :💿 high sex with hobie

❝ warnings ❞ back shots, smoking while fucking, weed for all the sticklers, reader fucks themselves on him, save a horse, ride a cowboy, blowing smoke in reader's mouth, playing of Me and Your Mama' by Childish Gambino

Fucking Hobie while you're both high is a fucking mind blowing experience. It's slow and passionate but also so filthy. It's probably someone other than your bedroom, most likely the living room (whatever the equivalent of that on his canal boat is) because you two can't keep your hands off of each other long enough to get somewhere better suited for your activities.

Hobie would keep the joint between his lips, have you with your knees in the cushions and your arms against the back of the couch while he stands behind you. He has the ashtray on the curve of your back, tapping off the excess ashes while he fucks you from behind in slow, lazy strokes.

Occasionally he'll take it from his lips, hold it between his long, slender fingers, and exhale deeply as he grabs ahold of your hips and fucks you a little harder, dragging something of a needy cry from you, your back arching a little more. Your mind is all fuzzy, hazy. Your body is more relaxed, more willing to take him as he slides in and out of your creamy, messy hole.

But he won't do all the work, he'll stop, slap your ass, and tell you, "go 'head 'n take i', luv. Take wha's yours." Hobie would watch you fuck yourself on his dick, humming in approval as your walls stretch around him and tremble. "Look back, look a' yaself." He'd say and make you look back, watch yourself take the length and girth of his cock while the ashtray wobbles unevenly on your ass.

"Don' le' I' fall now. Don' wanna make a mess do ya?" He'd ask and tap off some more ashes, watching the way your bite your bottom lip and ease yourself down to sink all the way down the the hilt and take all of him.

If you're riding him, he'll blow smoke into your mouth and pass the joint between the two of you. Your eyes all red, staring into each other's. His large hands control the way your hips move, creamy wetness coating his cock in an white ring at the back of his length. Hobie's breathy moans marked by smoke that slides across your breasts. "Jus' like tha', my pretty baby."

Orgasms while high is like having an out of body experience. It shakes your entire frame, makes you feel like you entire world is falling apart and then piecing itself back together. Your nails dig into each other's skin, your moans are deep and rattle-y. He'll buck his hips into you because he simply can't help it, all those muscles spasming.

Oh and 'Me and Your Mama' by Childish Gambino is definitely playing lowly in the background, no doubt about it.

#just some thoughts #thanks for the ask!#across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #hobie brown #atsv #hobie brown fic #hobie brown smut #spider punk #hobie brown headcanons #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x gn!reader

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daenysx · 1 year ago

Text

yes, turns out i love writing soft!daryl with lots and lots of praises. this is also my first try of smut with daryl, and it would be perfect if you tell me what you think! hope you enjoy!!

era: prison

my masterlist

fake pouting on a pretty face

daryl dixon can't say no to you. morning sex. nsfw.

"yer such a sweet baby, hmm?"

he kisses your pouting lips. he is aware of the fact that you literally turned him into a touch starved man, he always craves physical affection now. from you.

"i'm just saying that you should stay here with me instead of going out like literally 2 hours early."

he kisses you again and this time you don't break the kiss. your lips stay on his until the lack of air becomes painful. your fingers draw little circles on his neck and he holds your waist, pins you to your bed.

"fine. 'm stayin'."

you chuckle. "i knew you wouldn't resist my charm, dixon."

he hums quietly. "if 'm not leavin' i should make it worth, don't ya think?"

you nod. "mm-hmm. yes, please."

"lemme take this off. lift yer arms, baby."

he takes off your shirt and you make yourself comfortable under him.

he smiles at your comfort under him, you wait for his next move patiently and bite your lip. he cups your cheek and pulls your lip from your teeth. you kiss his palm, give him a little smile.

he kisses your neck, your pulse point, and your chest. your breathing quickens when you feel his tongue on your nipple and he looks at your blushing face.

"eager, hmm?"

you exhale slowly. "a little."

"a little? sweet thing."

you blush even more with his words. ever since he discovered how you react when he talks to you with sweet words full of praises, he tells you more of them. you are too good to him, too pretty and adorable, the only thing that keeps his world bright.

he kisses your belly, and his hands reach for your thighs to part them. he looks like a starved man as he sees the slight wetness on your panties.

"lift yer hips, c'mon baby."

you are completely naked under his gaze right now. his eyes have the expression of desire and love. he gives you a comforting look before he leans in between your thighs and presses a tempting kiss on your clit.

you know how he loves to give you pleasure with his mouth and you adore him when he acts so attentive. this morning is no different, he opens his mouth and curls his lips around your swollen clit. he sucks it, holds your thighs with his big hands to keep you still.

you can't help your little sounds, bite your lips to prevent yourself from moaning his name loudly. you don't want to disturb people in other cells, and daryl knows that. he wouldn't want anyone else to hear you as well. these sounds, they are all for him. he is the only one meant to hear them and he loves it. he loves the feeling of being special.

he is determined to make you come on his tongue first. he keeps moving his tongue everywhere, and when he pushes his mouth to your entrance you nearly weep. he feels himself getting harder and rubs his cock on the sheets for a little relief by moving his hips as he eats you out.

you grab his wrists and arch your back slowly. the orgasm is intense, your brain is all clear and your muscles relaxed. he licks the remnants of your release and looks at you proudly. your breathing sounds fill the cell, he presses kisses on your thighs as he gets on his knees on bed.

"yer perfect, you know tha'?"

he licks his lips and looks at your blushed face. you bring your hands on his chest and his abdomen, feeling the toned muscles there. his cock is too hard now, it almost hurts. it rests against his stomach and you brush your fingers on it lightly. your thumb strokes the tip and he curses silently.

"i want you, daryl. come on, now."

you try to make him go inside you, feeling him deep inside always felt good and it brings you a good kind of comfort. you love how hard he feels inside and how straining it is to take him fully. you love his groans as he tries to go slow to not hurt you and his warm exhales when he reaches deep.

he shakes his head thoughtfully. "my fingers first, sweet girl. don' wanna hurt ya."

he strokes your clit first, then moves his fingers to your entrance. just his forefinger and your muscles clench around him. he loves how responsive you are and always tries to take his time to prepare you, never wants to hurt you. when he makes sure you're alright, he adds a second finger and encourages you to relax around him.

you can't take it anymore, desperately want him to start moving inside you with his cock. you pull him to yourself, kiss his lips to silence yourself and hold onto his strong arms for your balance.

"come on, i want it, please."

he adjusts himself to your entrance after he takes his fingers off you and starts pushing himself slowly.

"good girl. good fuckin' girl."

you bring his hand on your mouth to not being too loud. he holds your waist with his free hand, tries to settle down and stay inside your tight warmth.

he can already feel his orgasm close with your arching waist and clenching muscles. he moves slowly, too cautious to not hurt you. when you push yourself to him for a little friction, he tries to keep the pace slow and powerful.

"shh, don' want ya to be sore, baby."

you look deep into his eyes. "i'll be fine, daryl. i just want more."

he looks at you with a bright smile now. "sweet little baby, tha' not enough for ya, hmm? yer takin' me so well, such a good girl."

he moves harder now, not too fast but he knows what he's doing. you wrap your arms around his neck, kiss his lips as he moves his hips deeper into you.

"mm-hmm. your good girl." you say, breathless.

"yeah, my good girl."

he keeps thrusting until it becomes too much, when he feels you're close he moves faster and you hold onto him once more.

you melt under him as his cock hits deep inside you. your little moans become quick breathes and you come for the second time since you woke up in his arms.

he is already close but your orgasm gives him a perfect timing to finish. he uses his last piece of strength and pulls himself to come on your belly. he knows he should be careful and even when it feels too tempting to come inside you, he forces himself to fight the urge.

he puts his head on your chest when his cock softens. you hold him, caressing his hair and helping him to live the perfect moments of post-orgasm. he lifts his head to look at your pretty face with a smile on his lips. his eyes hold too many emotions all at the same time.

he lays on his side and pulls you to his chest. staying here with you instead of going on a early hunt is the greatest decision but he will not tell you that. still, the fact that you both have to leave the bed pains him, all he wants is to stay here as long as he can, hold you in his arms, safe and protected by him from all the shit out there.

your cell is brighter now with the morning light. he kisses you on your forehead, on your nose, on your lips, and on your chin. your legs are entangled with his, and you are safe here. you love the feeling of safety when he's with you.

"c'mon sunshine, don' sleep on me now. we gotta get up soon."

you have a fake pout on your face, he fucking loves it. "you make it too hard. just- a little more, okay?"

he nods, refuses to say no to you when you're so sweet. "a little more."

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader #twd daryl #daryl x you #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead imagine

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xoxobuckybarnes · 3 months ago

Text

August 2024 Reading List

Complete

War & Peace and the Redemption of Bucky Barnes (Rated: E, Words: 51K) by ThePirateStorm / @fsbc-librarian

Summary: Bucky Barnes is running from his problems. He’s housesitting for his best friend while she’s on her honeymoon - the almost a year prior that he’s been staying in her house doesn’t count - when he’s woken in the middle of the night by an angel and a demon. Okay, maybe they’re not a literal angel and demon, but Steve Rogers *looks* like an angel, and his daughter Charli certainly *acts* like a demon. The father/daughter duo are running from their own problems, but that doesn’t mean that they can’t crash headlong into one another’s lives. Throw in a cursed book for good measure, and it’s about to get a whole lot more interesting.

Sleep, Baby (Rated: E, Words: 4K) by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy (hutchabelle)

Summary: Have a baby, they said. It’ll be fun, they said. And it is, but it’s also the most bone-crushingly tiring thing in the world. Bucky needs a nap, coffee, and sex, but his baby WILL NOT SLEEP! He should have known his husband always has a plan, especially on Valentine's Day. Written for the Hell Yeah Bottom Bucky Valentines Exchange.

Winter's Children (Rated: E, Words: 66K) by Neery

Summary: When their attempts to recreate the super soldier serum failed, Hydra started trying to breed Captain America clones from his genetic samples. Unfortunately, the serum's effects aren't passed down genetically, so instead of an army of tiny Captain Americas, they get a bunch of tow-headed, asthmatic, allergic, immuno-compromised little Steves. And then the Winter Soldier stumbles across Hydra's failed experiment...

tin cans with string (Rated: T, Words: 22K) by Somanywords / @somanywords

Summary: Bucky’s mother was looking at him knowingly, and she pulled out a chair for him, which he climbed into gratefully. “You’re an only child, aren’t you, Steve?” “Yes Ma’am.” “It ever gets to be too much for you, you just excuse yourself and come sit in the kitchen a minute. It’s a little noisy with the baby at times, but other than that you can catch a breath.” Steve looked up at her gratefully. She understood, and having someone understand was the best thing in the world. --an exploration of mothers, and of one that isn’t yours.

Where You Lead, I Will Follow (Rated: T, Words: 11K) by attackofthezee (noxlunate)

Summary: When Steve was sixteen years old Peggy Carter had placed a tiny, blonde six pound, three ounce bundle into Steve’s arms. She’d kissed the top of Carter’s head, kissed Steve’s cheek and said “I can’t do this.” with such strength and conviction that Steve hadn’t even questioned her. “I know.” Steve had said, shifting Carter to rest against his chest, a hand on her bottom and the other cupping her tiny, soft head. “But I can.” AKA it's a Gilmore Girls AU and Steve loves his kid, Bucky, Stars Hollow, and coffee. In that order.

Seahorses (Rated: E, Words: 31K) by poppyfields13 & tinzelda

Summary: Now that Bucky’s taken over the role of Captain America, Steve feels like it’s finally the time to start a family. Bucky doesn’t know what to feel when Steve breaks the news he’s going to adopt a baby. He wants Steve to be happy, but he’s worried it will affect their friendship. Once Steve becomes a dad though, Bucky can’t help falling in love with the baby. And maybe Steve will finally see Bucky in a different light.

Loves Me Like A Rock (Rated: T, Words: 4K) by musette22 / @musette22

Summary: “You’re not that bad, Steve,” Sarah reassures him, though she can’t be entirely sure. “I’m sure you must’ve gotten a little better at flirting since your high school days?” Steve makes a face. “What on earth would give you that idea?” “Well,” Sarah says, reaching over to give Steve's hand a consoling pat, “you have other qualities, my darling.” “Such as?” “You could out-stubborn a donkey,” she answers, without missing a beat. “You’ve got a decent singing voice, too. Dogs love you.” Steve huffs. “Gee, thanks, ma. That's really helpful.”

A Wedding to Remember (Rated: E, Words: 19K) by SucculentHyena

Summary: It’s Becca’s wedding, her happiest day. Bucky just wants it to go as planned. And it does! Repeatedly.

Five Times Bucky Modelled For Steve (Rated: T, Words: 8K) by Selenay

Summary: The first time Steve drew Bucky, he had purple hair like something out of a cartoon. "I don't have a brown," Steve said when he got to Bucky's hair. "Sorry. It got broken."

sharing beds like little kids (Rated: M, Words: 17K) by tesselated

Summary: Steve and Bucky are childhood best friends who get separated when they're thirteen and Steve moves away. Five years later, they see each other at a party. ++ It seemed to Bucky that there had to be a certain all-encompassing awkwardness in going up to the guy you loved best when you were twelve and saying “Hey buddy, remember me?”

Love Thy Neighbor (Rated: M, Words: 7K) by hermionesmydawg / @anthonystan

Summary: Bucky Barnes has a few problems with his new neighbor: 1. He's hot 2. He's loud 3. He might be a secret superhero

if your heart's still open (Rated: E, Words: 8K) by steveandbucky

Summary: “What’s wrong, Buck?” “You really gotta ask that?” “Yeah, I do.” Steve clenches his jaw. “You were the one who ended things.”

WIP

Gold Must Be Tried By Fire (Rated: M, Current Words: 28K) by lavenderpanic / @lavenderpanic

Summary: The pamphlets about escaping abuse always glossed over this part, and Bucky finally understands why. Nobody would fucking leave if they knew how hard recovery would be. In the midst of a trial that questions every hard-won truth out of Bucky’s mouth, can he possibly allow himself to heal- physically and mentally? **Sequel to I Am Ash From Your Fire**

The Life of Jamie Barnes (Rated: M, Current Words: 9K) by deadto27 / @deadto27

Summary: The continuing adventures of Steve, Bucky and baby James from the Heart of Mine series through the years.

Rereads

Nothing Good Ever Happens on a Tuesday (Rated: T, Words: 28K) by megs_bee

Summary: Recently discharged soldier James Barnes is back in Brooklyn, down an arm and missing five years of memories, but he’s got his PTSD mostly under control, a fancy metal prosthetic, and what’s starting to feel like it could be a half-decent life. What he doesn’t have is any memory of the kid looking at James and asking him, “Are you my daddy?” -- or the gorgeous blond guy standing next to her. Steve Rogers lost his best friend Bucky five years ago, with no warning and no answers when he tried to find out what happened. So it was one hell of a surprise to walk into the grocery store one afternoon and come face to face with the man he thought was dead.

Prince Charming (Rated: E, Words: 55K) by Brenda / @brendaonao3

Summary: Bucky Barnes leads quite the charmed life. He has a thriving tattoo shop, a son he adores, the world’s best dogs, and a great group of friends — almost all of whom are in relationships. And maybe he'd been the one nudging them towards each other, but there's nothing wrong with a little match-making. The world could use more romance. As for him personally, well, he doesn’t need anyone for the long haul. Not when every girl he meets is someone who he thinks would be perfect for someone else. But then Steve Rogers comes into his shop looking for some ink, and maybe that’s the problem right there. Maybe what he's looking for in a relationship isn't a girl at all.

#Stucky #Steve and Bucky #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #fanfic #XOXOBUCKYBARNES' Stucky Fic Reading List #august reading list

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