#he's not takin anythin off

[todayisafridaynight]

SUSpenders

[julietsbody]

toji fushiguro never understood the importance of skincare, he thought the ritual of products you would lather on your face daily and nightly was stupid. he always had to wait in bed for you to finish putting on some ridiculous product like snail mucin or niacinamide. the fuck does niacinamide do? 

“c’mon, yer takin’ too long,” he groans from the bed, nearly dozing off but keeping himself awake because he knows he can never get a proper night’s sleep without you. 

“eye cream, ‘toj!” you call out, and toji only rolls his eyes, turning to the other side with his back facing you. he was so petty. 

but maybe toji starts to understand it when he somehow comes across something saying that cum is good for your skin, just as good as any other skincare product. it did the job, probably even did it better. maybe he starts to understand it when he’s gripping your hair so tight you’re scared he’s ripping it out while slamming his cock into the back of your throat. he’s been so pent up, so frustrated and in need of relief, and of course you had offered it to him just before bed, just before you put all your skincare on. 

perfect, this was perfect. toji grunts out a string of curses from the sight of drool dripping off your chin, sticky strings of saliva connecting to his cock, forming globs at his balls then leaking onto the floor. you both were always so messy with head, it was borderline disgusting, he liked using your mouth like a fleshlight. “yeah, yeah, take it all, know you can, girl. slutty throat can take anythin’.” 

you hum around his dick, and he’s so close. that’s when he pulls out, ignoring the fact that your mouth tries to chase his dick to take it back in, as well as ignoring the confused expression knitting your brows together when he starts pumping his dick, right over your face. then it clicks, he’s going to cum on your face. but your skincare!! 

doesn’t matter, hot strings of cum are already making contact onto your skin, sticking to the flesh there and marking it’s territory. toji grunts at the sight, his cum nearly coating your face just like any other product would. he takes his hand off his dick just to smear his load all over your face, “there ya go, pretty, this is the only skincare you need, yeah?” 

[ozarkthedog]

𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭

summary: joel fucks you over the kitchen sink.

warnings: 18+ smut. best friends dad!joel x afab!reader. alt universe. unspecified age gap. secret relationship. soft dom!joel. cream pie. w.c. 529

author's note: writing has been difficult lately so i'm trying to write little pieces like this randomly to help get the creativity flowing again. so i apologize if this isn't my best. *runs off into the night*

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐬 ⋅ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

"You better keep those hands on the counter if you want to come," Joel's lips brush your ear with the soft threat. Large, worn hands smother your own against the cool marble, keeping you still yet pliable.

You anxiously peer through the kitchen window.

It's been 10 minutes or so since you left. You made up a white lie about a headache to your friends, excusing yourself from the splashing chaos in the pool, only to find yourself in the arms of your friend's dad, Joel.

It started off innocently with wandering eyes and cheeky comments, which turned into brazen touches and stolen kisses over the last few months. Eventually, you ended up in Joel's bed one lonely night after a rough breakup. You sought solace from your friend, but Joel was the one who answered the door when she wasn't home.

Worry tugs at your nerves, bottom lip pinched hard between your teeth. You silently pray your friends won't realize you're missing and come searching. You wouldn't be able to face them if they saw you bent over the counter taking their friend's dad's cock.

"Where'd you go, sweet girl?" his thumb brushes your lip, pulling it softly from between your teeth. You kiss the warm pad before he pushes it into your mouth, letting you suckle on the digit.

"Stay righ' with me." He murmurs, pressing his broad front against your spine and trapping your body to the counter's edge. "Don' need to be thinkin' 'bout anythin' else 'cept takin' my cock."

Your breath hitches as he grinds his length deeper, nudging his weeping crown at the end of you, forming you around him like a leather glove.

"What if someone sees." You blurt, frantically clutching his wrist when one of your friends looks toward the kitchen window. Thankfully, the sun blinds her view just as Joel flips the two of you out of sight.

A steady arm locks around your waist, keeping you pinned on his thick cock while you're left at his mercy. He uses the support of the counter against his lower back to keep you propped and open for him.

"What'd I say 'bout thinkin', huh?" he snaps his hips, driving his girth between your drenched folds, ruthlessly accentuating his words with each thrust. "Nothin'. But. My. Cock."

A brute hand curls under your jaw and tips your head against his shoulder. His grey whiskers scratch your cheek. "Can feel her creamin' on me, ya know." He grits, tightening his hold on your jaw as your cunt swirls around his girth. "Why you fightin' it? We both know you're exactly where ya want to be, sweet girl."

Your eyes press tight as a wave of untamed arousal shoots from your cunt straight into your brain. Joel smacks his hand over your mouth, barely muting your sounds of carnal bliss as you tumble over the edge, body quivering and writhing in his hold.

"Tha's my good girl." Joel huskily praises. Your fingers dig into his forearm as he picks up speed. He grunts like a wild animal, uncaged and dirty, feverishly fucking into your soaked heat until his cum is dripping down your thighs.

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated! follow @ozzieslibrary for new fic updates!

[mattslolita]

꒰ dealer!chris sturniolo ꒱ ⟡ headcanons ( 2 ) !

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

꒰ SFW! ꒱

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ offer to take bambi home on the first night they ever met — you're skeptical though, because you still live with your parents, and chris wasn't exactly well . . . the type you bring home to mom and dad.

"aw c'mon, can't drop ya off at home? why's that?"

"um...i'm not sure how my parents are gonna react cause y'know...just park down the street!"

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ sneak through your window all the time, mostly at night after he's gone a deal and wants to just chill with you.

"chris! can you at least text me to let me know you're coming?!"

"s'cute seein' you all scared when i come up, though."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ call you bambi alot when you first start talking, because he enjoys seeing how easily flustered you get from the nickname. he loves the way you clench your thighs and look away with a shy smile.

"hey bambi, don't get all shy on me, sweetheart."

"sorry..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ get scared and confused when bambi randomly begins to cry or tear up — he's not used to you showing so much emotion all the time, so he's actively always wondering if he's done something wrong and figuring out a way to calm you down.

"fuck, why are you cryin'? did i say somethin' wrong? did i do somethin'? talk to me, kid."

"it's just the picture of you and matt...you guys looked so cute when you were younger!"

"for fucks sake, bambi..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ immediately make it known that he's not all for putting labels on anything — you're a little intimidated by him and what he does anyone, so you're thankful for it at first.

"i know we're like fuckin' and whatnot but...y'know i'm not ready to uh, call you my girlfriend or anythin' like that..."

"no i understand! it's cool..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ be very hesitant to take bambi on deals with him — he doesn't want to risk your safety, especially this early into you guys'. . .situationship ( ? )

"please, chris? i swear i can help! i'll get whatever bag you need me to get, while you count the money-"

"kid, you don't even know what half this shit is."

"i wanna go with you, now!"

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ buy bambi small gifts to start off, because he's not exactly sure about what kind of things you like yet.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ ask matt small details about bambi so he could get a feel of how to act around you and what things he should start doing for you — matt knew immediately he was already becoming down bad for you.

"so like uh, what kind of shit is bambi into, bro? like, does she fuck with movies and shit, or what?"

"don't you think that's the kind of thing you should be askin' her yourself?"

꒰ NSFW! ꒱

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ never do anything bambi would be uncomfortable with doing — believe it or not, you were a virgin when you met him.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ in the beginning, bambi was only comfortable with doing over the clothes things — he'd let you grind on his thigh until you came,

"s'good baby, all fucked out on my thigh...come on angel, cum for me..."

✦ or he would use your vibrator on you, watching you squirm around in his lap when he turned it up and watched your toes curl at the sensation.

"oh fuck chris, please..."

"doin' so good mama, that feel good, huh?"

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ take it easy with bambi once you tell him you want to try oral sex with him now — which leads to the very first time he's ever eaten you out, at a frat party upstairs,

"wan' hear all those pretty noises when i eat it, hear me?"

✦ and the first time you ever gave him head, whilst your parents were asleep and he came to spend the night at your house.

"f-fuck, jus' like that pretty girl, takin' my cock so well..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ be gentle with bambi when you decide you want your first time to be with him — he's constantly reassuring you, and he decides to ease you into it with missionary because you deserved something intimate and special.

( it was also the first time chris realized he might be in love with you. )

( lilly's corner 💌 )

dealer!chris & bambi!reader are literally the cutest things ever when they first met, since technically they were still teenagers😕😕. i hope you guys enjoyed these! send in some prompts in my inbox for early dealer!chris & bambi!reader! love you all so much. 💌

@muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @luverboychris @cottoncandyswisherz @chanelles-world

@sturnprime @middlepartmatt @chrissturniolossidehoe @sturniqloo @chaossturns

@fairyrcts @mbbsgf @sturnsxplr-25 @moonk1ss3d @oliviasturniolo21

@wh4re4chratt @cyberdre4ms @angvlarabella @pvssychicken @lovesturni0l0s

@delilahsturniolo @venusxsturnio @chrissystur @sweetangelgirl7 @wovenribbons

@chrispotatos @chrissystur @jetaimevous

[warframe1999]

Sooo…

The protoframes, huh?

i wanted to go a bit into what each member of the Hex (yay, new syndicate!!) had to say when you got into proximity of them in the relay. there’s honestly a lot here to set the scene not only for 1999 itself, but introducing each protoframe as well as sort of hinting at their interpersonal relationships, and how they interact with one another! some of my favorite kinda of lore is specifically character development and personality-focused dynamics like this so here!!!! i walked back and forth for an hour for YOU! here is all proximity dialogue for each character in the Höllvania Mall relay:

ARTHUR:

“Question. Could I take Quincy down if he turned on me?”

“We’ll find you, Doctor. That’s a promise.”

“Stop sniffing around my head, Eleanor. If I want to talk, I’ll talk.”

“We need to keep Lettie on her feet. If she goes we all go.”

“Dunno why we even bothered with that cleaning rota.”

“Yeah, we can hold this place.”

“One day, Aoi. No more roadblocks and checkpoints. Just you and me and the bikes, open road for miles, all this bullshit far away. I swear to Sol.”

“Still too open. We need more chokepoints.”

“Bottled water. Like sodding gold dust.”

“Well Amir’s still alive. That’s a win.”

LETICIA:

“I got nothin’ to prove to you, Quincy! Go play your little games, niño.”

“¿Qué onda? The Lady Eleanor ain’t no more freaky than the last time you checked in. ‘Less you know different?”

“Yo, Aoi. Chill, hermana. Do something for yourself, for once. Arthur ain’t going to blow away if you blink.”

“The boss says care for his sister I care for his sister. As long as you still are his sister… and as long as I feel like listening to him.”

“Being loved and being hurt? Yeah, I make no distinction. I knew someone, once, wired the same way. Kept me sane. And what of it? Te crees muy acá ¿no? Get outta my head, Eleanor.”

“Never signed up for this. I’ll be home Mamá. Your little girl doesn’t end here. No te preocupes.”

“Man, I’ve been awake so long that even the spiders in my head have all gone to sleep.”

“Wacha: unless you’re pissing blood right this second, whatever it is can wait.”

“I swear, should lock Aoi and Amir in a cuna. Didn’t sign up for no babysitting gig.”

AOI:

“I don’t wanna go on patrol. I wanna take stuff apart.”

“Nearly time for the On-lyne boys.”

“Metal, metal, metal, what do you want to be?”

“Yep. I can live like this.”

“Arthur needs to keep some fuel in the tank for himself. Goddamn savior complex that man has…”

“I oughta get some headphones. Then I wouldn’t have to hear Quincy work off all that surplus testosterone!”

“If they take Entrati out, who’s going to look after that mutant jaguar of his? Poor thing won’t last five minutes in the wild.”

“Amir! Remember to hydrate!”

“Dear past self: we finally got those super powers we always wanted. Whaddayaknow.”

“GodDAMN. Lettie would you keep your frickin’ rats OUT of my SPACE?”

QUINCY:

“Don’t look up, Doctor.”

“Arthur needs to leave the Major to me, innit. Respect my methods.”

“Don’t mind the waiting. Plenty to be thinking about.”

“You don’t know me. Never see what darkens your rooftops. Inevitable, like the rain. Handing out consolations in a transient connection. Boom. Smoke. And ghost.”

“You wiv me, Eleanor? How deep in you go? See anythin’ you fancy, girl?”

“Amir is a weak, weak boy. Like Aunty said, ‘duppy know who fi frighten.’”

“Thassit… nice and steady.”

“How many man have the opps got? Not enough t’be takin’ me. Never.”

“Oi, Lettie! Grab y’ strap and let’s go. Best a five buys the drinks?”

ELEANOR:

“Don’t expect me to tell you what I’ve seen in Amir’s head. He’s not a beautiful, broken marionette, and he’s nobody’s project. He’s one of us.”

“Quincy thinks he’s going to wake up one night to me chewing the flesh from his ribs. Maybe he’s right.”

“I know you’re there. I can feel you. It’s okay, I won’t tell the others.”

“Aoi? She’s lovely and kind and strong, and… I kind of hate her a little bit. Because it should have been her spreading her happiness into everyone’s heads, and me throwing cars and trucks around.”

“I thought there were going to be two of you! Where’s the other one?”

“Blood. There’s gonna be a fight. Something… bursting. Crossed swords. Arthur!”

“What on earth is a ‘Mara Lohk’?”

“Oh, you’re going to make such a difference this time around.”

“I don’t think Doctor Entrati expected me to survive. I had a lot more than just a cough. But… survive I did. And Lettie has not forgiven me for it.

“Oh. OH. She’s wonderful! Triple-faced goddess! But there’s a shadow on her, isn’t there?”

AMIR:

“A little zap, and… infinite credit! No more ‘insert coin’! Not that we could insert coin. We have no coin. Once we had coin, but now Aoi has smooshed all the coin. Coinnnn.”

“Why did they never make a console port?”

“BAD MOVE, SPACE CAA-DET.”

“But the one thought none of them spoke out loud was - could Lettie reattach a head?”

“Hey, Arthur! Arthur! Arthur! Arthur! Arthur! Dahh, you missed it.”

“Eleanor? Are you there? Can you - can you give my brain a hug please? Thank you.”

“We’re getting a little too excited, let’s step it down, step it down before we get the blue cracklies. In one two out one two.”

“Oi’m Quincy. Oi’m gonna blow out yer kneecaps. Mashup in yer chip shop alright.”

“Ungh! This violent video game is influencing my emotions! Societal norms… eroding! Morality… subsumed! I MUST KILL!”

“This place used to smell so good. Coffee. Cookies. Fresh clean socks. Now it’s just rust, pain, and old socks.”

[mrthful]

hes all over the place

hey yall im rlly struggling rn and idk if this art biz can support me. if yall wanna see more posts n my silly brain PLS consider checkin out the links in my bio or buyin one of these lil guys off my redbubble, it would help me sososo much!! if u donate anythin to me or my kofi ill draw a lil smth just for u, anything helps!!

(also pls if my redbubble shows no works able to purchase or nothin pls help cuz i think i got wm listed but i cant tell, the site is bein weird on my end) thank yall for takin the time to read this, i love yall wether u can help or not Xoppp

[redstarwriting]

the clash | x. brand new

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 2k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings:  language, insults, mentions of everything that happened in the story, almost fainting, soft hobie, big fluff energy, essentially just a fun lil chapter above everything else to wash away the angst

a/n: AND IT'S OVER!! i'm actually crying a bit this was so fun to write. it will not be the end! you can all bet your asses i'll be working on a sequel for this duo. thank you to everyone who supported the story and my writing. you made the return back to this blog unforgettable and i am so grateful for all of you 🖤 please enjoy the last chapter of 'the clash'

previous chapter: ix. last caress

now reading: x. brand new

end.

───────────────────────────────────

After about 3 more days, you were feeling much better. Hobie was too, as he didn’t need to keep giving blood. In fact, the two of you were basically back to your normal selves. And much to Hobie’s relief, changing your molecular biology did not take away your spider powers. So now he had a partner in crime. Or partner in crime fighting?

Nah, partner in crime sounds better.

“Ready to go, love?” Hobie asks, pouring some food into Shadow’s bowl before closing the bag and webbing it to the ceiling. Shadow runs and starts chomping and Hobie grins, giving him a few pets. “Ready, babe,” you say, coming into to the room. Hobie stands and looks at you, letting out a long whistle. “You look stunnin’,” he says, looking you up and down. You twirl around, showing off how your spider suit looks in the style of his world. Your mask wask lost, so you had to make a new one, but that was no problem. You and Hobie fixed it up, and you gave in to Hobie’s pleas to make it resemble his a bit. Only a bit. You’re still Spider-Goth after all.

He walks over to you and wraps his arms around you. “The spiked choker is a nice touch, who convinced you to put that on? And the studs on your mask? Whoever helped you add them seems like a smart bloke,” he smirks. “You know he’s more of a smartass, but I guess I don’t hate it. The spider charm on the choker is a nice touch,” you say, taking the mask off and winking at him. “You not hatin’ somethin’? Now that is bloody mental.”

“Look who’s talking,” you say and he grins, giving your lips a quick peck before pulling away from you. “Haven’t the foggiest what you’re talkin’ bout, love.” He types on his watch and pulls up Earth-2099, the portal appearing in front of the two of you.

“I’m still so surprised Gwen, Miles, and Pav didn’t try to come to see us this whole time,” you say, and Hobie shrugs. “So am I, but I reckon they understood you were close to dyin’. And I may have threatened them that I’d kill ‘em if they came and woke you up at any point. Guess they took me seriously,” he says, and you playfully smack his arm. “Of course they took you seriously! You literally killed yourself for me, and that was before we even–”

“Fancied each other yeah, yeah, I know,” he cuts you off, grinning at you. “Ready?” he asks again, making sure you’re up to seeing everyone. You nod, and he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Off we go, then,” he says as the two of you walk through the portal, ending up in Miguel’s hub. “Lemme know if you feel sick or anythin’, yeah? We’ll go right back home,” he says, and you nod. “Thanks, babe,” you say, and he places a quick peck on the top of your head. The two of you walk out and multiple spider-people greet you and welcome you back. “I feel offended none of them have complimented you on your new look,” he says, and you laugh. “Relax, Hobie, I’m sure Miles will be so jealous.”

“And that’s all that matters,” he says, and you shake your head. “You know it would be so faster if we webbed to the common room,” you suggest, and he shakes his head. “Absolutely fuckin’ not. Have you lost the plot? You’re doin’ better, yeah, but you ain’t close to healed. We’re takin’ things nice and slow,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “Getting used to the way you talk is gonna take a minute,” you say, shaking your head and he rolls his eyes. “I called you mental just now. Crazy, insane, unhinged–”

“Got it, you fuckin’ tosser,” you imitate his accent, and he removes his arm from your shoulder, giving you an offended look. “Do you know what to just said to me?”

“Nope, but the plan worked, bye!” you say, waving and webbing away. “HEY! BLOODY HELL!” you hear him scream, webbing after you. Even though you haven’t been in action for about a week, you’re still way faster than him. You laugh as he tries to catch up, but you slip out of his grasp every time. A lot of spiders see this happening and are relieved and happy to see the two of you back and wreaking havoc amongst each other. You beat him to the common room, landing and waiting for him. He lands right next to you a few second after you. “Are you bloody mad?!” he says, clearly exasperated, “I told you not to do that yet! What if you sparked out?!”

“Well, whatever that means, I didn’t.”

“Bloody fainted! What if you did?!”

“Relax, I’m not going to– oh, shit,” you suddenly feel very dizzy, and he wraps his arms around you to keep you from falling. “See. This is the shit I was tryin’ to avoid, but no. You had to go and be a bloody daftie,” he mumbles, and you giggle. “Your reaction was worth it.”

“Oh, I bet it was, ya fuckin’ muppet,” he rolls his eyes, and you grin at him. “Do you feel well enough to stand?”

“Probably but I like it better when you’re like this,” you say, and he gives you an unamused look. “Right, then,” he says, picking you up and tossing you over his shoulder. You loudly protest. “Nuh uh, don’t give me that now, love,” he turns his attention towards the room, and to his chagrin sees Pavitr recording it on his phone. He rolls his eyes and plops you down on the couch. “Don’t move.”

“I do what I want.”

“Not today, you don’t.”

“Glad to see the two of you haven’t changed at all. Nice new suit, by the way, (Y/n),” Miles says, and Hobie sits next to you, placing his arm on the back of the couch behind you as you chirp out a thank you to Miles. “Why would we?” Hobie says, and Miles stares at him, dumbfounded. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you went feral just to protect their ass and they nearly died because of it and then you nearly died trying to save them after they nearly died and then we nearly died trying to help you so that they didn’t nearly die,” Miles says, and Gwen looks at him, nodding. “Nice description.”

“Thanks,” Miles says, smiling at her. Hobie shrugs, looking at you. “All in a day’s work of bein’ Spider-Man,” he says, and you snort. “You’re impossible, Hobie,” you say, leaning against his shoulder. His arm slides from the couch to having it lazily rest around your shoulders. “Good,” he says with a small smile. “Pav, stop taking pictures,” Gwen says, and he shakes his head. “How can I not?! I have been calling this since the first minute they interacted, you all called me crazy, I’m not crazy! I knew it!”

“Congrats, you want a prize?” Hobie says, and Pav smiles. “Yes, actually, I do. I’m aware you’re probably being sarcastic, but I believe I deserve some sort of recognition for recognizing what you two really were,” he says, and you laugh. “You’re the most emotionally intelligent of us all, Pav,” you say, and he nods. “You’re right. I so am,” he says, and Gwen smiles at the two of you. “I’m happy for you two.”

“Thanks, Gwen,” you say, and Hobie softly grins at you. “Woah! Look who’s back!” Peter B. Parker’s voice rings out as he lands next to you all. Mayday reaches you for you, and Peter hands her over. She gives you a little hug, and you smile. “And Hobie with his arm around you, nice. Nice. Nothing brings you and your partner together like a near-death experience. Trust me, I would know,” he says, and Hobie raises an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t that almost ruin your–”

“Welp, this was a nice talk,” he says, webbing Mayday back to him, and putting her in her carrier. “Catch you later, kids,” he says, webbing away with a short squeal from Mayday. “He is so fuckin’ odd,” Hobie mumbles, and you laugh. “It’s cute how much he loves MJ, though. The definition of til death do us part,” you say, and Hobie glances at you. “Yeah… but not as cute as us,” he whispers in your ear, causing you to look at him with a smile. “Nah, what did you just say to them?” Miles says, and Hobie shrugs. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he says, and Miles rolls his eyes. “Nah, man, that’s not fair. Share with the class,” Miles says, and Pavitr sighs loudly, shaking his head. “Please Miles. It’s simply the way a boyfriend speaks to his partner.”

“Woah, now, who said I was their boyfriend?” Hobie asks, and they all look at him like he’s just grown a second head. “WHAT?! ARE YOU SERIOUSLY TELLING ME YOU TWO ARE NOT DATING AFTER EVERYTHING THAT HAS JUST HAPPENED?!” Pav shrieks at the same time as Miles yelling, “OH, I DON’T KNOW MAN, MAYBE THE FACT THAT Y’ALL LIVE TOGETHER AND ARE ALL UP ON EACH OTHER RIGHT NOW?”

“Chill,” Hobie says, putting the palm of his hand out and you snort. “We hate labels, guys.”

“It’s more of a ‘they’re mine’ and ‘I’m theirs’ typa thing,” Hobie says. “You can totally call it a relationship, or whatever you want to call it, though. We just aren’t putting a label on it,” you say, and Hobie nods. “You two are so cool,” Gwen says, and Hobie smirks. “We know.”

“So, I can still say you two are partners and that will be okay?” Pav asks, and Hobie shrugs. “Whatever, mate. We know what we are, so have your fun.”

“This isn’t like one of those situationships, right? Because those are totally unhealthy and not cool,” Miles says, not so subtly glancing at Gwen, and Hobie shakes his head. “Nah. Like I said, we know what we are.”

“Yeah, it’s like you said Miles. He wouldn’t just go feral to protect my ass and then when I nearly die because of it he nearly dies trying to save me after I nearly die and then have our friends nearly die trying to help him so that I didn’t die just for a situationship,” you say, putting a heavy layer of disgust on the term. Miles looks around at everyone before nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, that makes perfect sense.”

“Hobie, (Y/n), can I see you two for a minute?” Miguel appears, pulling the two of you away from your friends. You glance at each other but get off the couch and walk over to him regardless. “How are the both of you feeling?”

“Fine,” Hobie says, and you nod. “Yeah, totally ready to jump back in whenever.”

“Uh, no. No, you’re not able to do that yet,” Hobie says, and you groan. Hobie turns his attention to Miguel. “They’re not ready for that. They almost lost consciousness after webbin’ over here,” Hobie says, and Miguel chuckles slightly. “Well, Dr. Brown, let me know when (Y/n) is ready to get back into the swing of things–”

“Bloody awful pun there, mate. And don’t call me that.”

“–and– hey, that was a great pun, okay?” Miguel diverts his attention, pointing at Hobie with a frown. Hobie just shakes his head, and mouths ‘No, it wasn’t’ at you, causing you to laugh. “Just let me know when they’re better. We’ll continue our training,” Miguel says, and Hobie suddenly gets protective. “What for?”

“Nothing in particular. Mainly to just get their head back into the game. Make it so Spider-Punk and Spider-Goth are unstoppable forces of nature in New London. Happy to see you up and about, (Y/n). And Hobie,” Miguel says, looking at him, “Good job. It’s good to know I can rely on you.” Miguel webs away, and Hobie groans as you laugh. “You just got praise from the boss!”

“Piss off!”

“I got you promoted!”

“Come off it!”

“Never!”

“I hate you,” he says, but the smile on his lips betrays his words. You laugh. “I hate you, more.” He smiles, leaning in and kissing you, not caring who’s watching.

“PAV! STOP TAKING PICTURES!”

───────────────────────────────

『 tag list 』

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*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

thank you to everyone who asked to be on the taglist! sorry that tumblr lied to me about tagging you multiple times, but i hope you all were able to enjoy the story! thank you 🖤

[bloodibambiidoll]

Hush, Little Lamb (farmhand!Jj x Farmers Daughter!reader)

Wk: 837. Hair pulling, rough unprotected sex, voyeurism kinda?, secret relationship, reader has the nickname “Lamb” 18+MDNI!!

Your cutoff overalls pool at your ankles as the scratchy hay digs into your palms. It would almost hurt if the pleasure Jj was giving you as he plowed into you from behind wasn’t so all consuming. You clutch onto the straws for purchase, the scratchy pasturage grazing over your exposed nipples each time he hits you with a particularly hard thrust of his hips.

“Takin’ me so well Darlin’, look at you. Prettiest girl I ever did see suckin’ my cock in like it was goddamn made for her.” One of Jj’s hands is gripping onto your ass so tightly that you’re sure it’ll leave marks and god, you don’t even care that you won’t be able to wear your favorite bikini until it fades because you love it when he leaves his marks on you. His other hand has your two braids laced through his large fingers as he yanks on them roughly.

“So good, jayj, so so good.” You whine as you arch your back causing him to hit deeper inside you than before. “Oh fuck!”

“Shh c’mon baby, wouldn’t want your Pops to hear you, would ya?” He uses his grip on your hair to yank your head back so the expanse of your neck is exposed and he can sink his teeth into your delicate skin.

“Oh fuuuuck, yes, please make me cum.” You whine as you push your hips back to meet his aggressive thrusts the best you can, your tight wet cunt swallowing him whole with each push of both of your hips.

“Pretty little lamb fell victim to the big bag wolf, look at you. S’pretty for me. Beggin’ me to cum.” Jj releases his grip on your hair so he can grab onto your jaw, he squishes your cheeks together, his blue irises drinking in the fucked out look on your face. “You wanna cum? Beg for it.”

“Please, let me cum on your cock, I’ll be so good for you, I’ll do anythin’ - fuck!” You’re cut off when he bends his knees a little, angling his hips so his cock hits you even deeper. He brings his fingers up to your lips and you take the hint, immediately sucking them between your lips.

“Yeah, that’s right, get em’ nice n’ wet for me, sugar.” Jj pulls them from your warm, hot, mouth so he can snake his hand between the two of you and rub his slick digits against your puffy clit.

“Oh my god, yes, yes, yes. I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum on your cock.” Your moans increase in volume as your pussy starts to flutter around his thick cock and Jj can feel his balls start to tighten.

“Baby, you know I love it when you talk like that but I’m gonna need you to quiet down, alright?” Jj continues his ministrations on your clit as he brings his other large, calloused hand up to muffle your pornographic moans. “Shh, just cum for me.”

Your eyes roll back and your pussy squeezes around his cock as Jj hits you with deep, hard, precise strokes of his hips. The clapping of skin on skin and your muffled whines bounce off the thick barn walls as he brings you to your end.

“Yeah, that’s it, that’s my girl. S’good for me, sugar. Gonna fuck this pussy so full it’ll be drippin’ down your legs while you sit at the dinner table with your parents actin’ all innocent. When you’re really just a little whore for me, huh?” The slight shake of your head and the little whimpers leaving your lips that he can feel against his palm send him over the edge. Jj’s hips still against your own as his cock twitches inside you, filling you with ropes of his cum.

“Goddamn.” Jj lets out a soft chuckle as he pulls out of you and grips onto your hips to flip you towards him. “You’re somethin’ else, ya know that?”

“Yeah? Well you’re not so bad yourself, farm boy.” You smile up at him sweetly as you loop your hands around his neck, looking at him like he practically hung the stars. He gives you that goofy smirk that always has butterflies erupting in your stomach before leaning down to kiss you in the way that never fails to make you weak in the knees.

You start to get lost in the kiss, not even caring that you’re still half dressed when you’re snapped from your little bubble by the sound of your dads voice calling your name.

“Where ya at, lamb? It’s time for supper!” You quickly jump apart from Jj as you hear him growing closer, hastily adjusting your clothes.

“I’m comin’ Pa!! I was just checkin’ on the baby goats is all!!” You grab onto Jj’s face, pulling him in for a chaste kiss before running away from him towards your house. Taking his heart with you. He watches after you dreamily until your back door is closed and you’re out of sight.

[semperamans]

goin' on a picnic with benny :'( it's one of those rare summer days when it's not sweltering outside so he rouses you from the bed, presses a kiss to your cheek and a swat to your ass as he tells you to get ready; he's takin' you somewhere. n'so you pretty yourself up in the bathroom, curl your lashes and coat your lips and rouge your cheeks and when you finish you follow the familiar bass of benny's singing to the kitchen :( he's got his back turned to you, head titled back to hit the high note and that's when he sees you and smiles and licks the knife free of peanut butter and moseys over to collect you in his arms :( "there's m'girl. y'ready?" and you say yes but then benny is worried, doesn't want your pretty blue dress to be all mussed from the bike, so he calls johnny, asks to borrow his car, and he says, and i quote, "anythin' for you two." such a sweet man, he is, and you tell him so as you press your lips to his cheek in thanks before sliding into the front seat. "treat our girl good, y'hear?" he tells benny and benny nods, smile on his face, ball cap pulled low over his brow :( you coast down familiar roads until you slowly begin to lose your bearings and then you're giggling like a mad woman because benny is going 60. 70. 80. 90 down old country backways, kicking up rocks and dirt and he's laughing - oh benny's laugh tangles into the twirl of the wind and caresses the sides of your face and seeps into the deepest pits of your soul and grows such beautiful things. the radio couldn't be any louder and you couldn't be any happier until you are because he tells you that "johnny'n i found this spot." he's parked beneath a massive oak tree with leaves that shiver at the sounds of his voice. "s'just a little meadow, but, i dunno - feels like somethin' you'd read in a storybook." and he's right. trees encircle this slice of paradise; this hidden oasis of lush green and flowering bulbs. benny grabs the basket from the backseat, a blanket, his jacket, and your hand leading you away away away through the wavering grasses. you get distracted, dashing off to pull dandelions so you can weave them into a crown and benny just watches, amazed that he's got a girl like you, so sweet and cute and his heart melts when you bring him a bundle of wildflowers as he situates the blanket on the ground. you spend the day immersed in one another; popping berries into one another's mouths and talking about the future and playing footsie and "why are you lookin' at me like that?" you ask, raising your brow at the boy who lays on his back before you. both hands fold behind his head, propping him up just so. "jus' think that god spent a little more time on you. had to. such a perfect girl." he leans up, taking one of your hands, tugging you softly because he knows you're gonna shy away. "gimmie some love. c'mere." and you do before the birds and the bees with no one as your witness but the racing overhead clouds.

[amyispxnk]

Sometimes, home is a person.

Summary: Joel loves music and so do you, and he finds the perfect thing for it on patrol

A/N: I wanna dance with Joel AGHHH GOD. Also I'm putting the song I'd put in my apocalypse record player here. Which would you pick??

Pairing: Joel Miller x gn!reader

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: fluff, language, a vague suicide mention, established relationship

DO NOT COPY THIS WORK IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

"Joel! Get your ass over here!" Tommy's voice echoed throughout the large house they'd just cleared out, nearing the end of their patrol for the day.

The stairs creaked beneath his feet as he trudged up them, turning the corner and walking into the room Tommy was stood in, hands outstretched in front of him as he looked at Joel, before gesturing to the space in front of him. "Look!" He said expectantly as Joel turned and let his eyes rove over the items before him.

A blue record player, weathered with age and apocalypse, with a case of records on the floor beside it. There were also posters from some musical bands which were a little damaged too, but a few were still recognisable.

"Well, shit." Joel chuckled, fingertips lightly brushing against the case of the record player as he turned back to face Tommy. "You takin' any of this or 's it a gift for me?"

"All for you, brother. Meet me outside in 10, yeah?"

Joel nodded before turning back around and checking the record player for damage, deciding it would probably still work and moving onto the records. He picked out a few he liked and some more he knew you'd like too, putting them in his pack and finally looking to the posters. He swiftly pocketed the Pearl Jam one and looked for some more, finally ending up with Tommy a little more than 10 minutes later.

"You sure took your time." He had teased as Joel walked out, pack close to bursting by now with all the shit he was trying to bring back. He didn't really get excited over stuff anymore, but he hadn't come across a single record player in.. ever, so it was a pretty big thing for him. Not only that, but you loved music just as much as he did, and he knew you'd be over the moon when he brought everything back.

"Had to make sure I wasn't leavin' anythin' good behind." Joel explained as he mounted his horse, the pair kicking off and starting the journey back to Jackson.

You watched the swirls of stock and water blend together in the pot as you cooked dinner when the telltale sound of heavy footsteps plodding up the porch and the key turning in the lock graced your ears.

"'m home!" Joel called as you turned the heat down on the stove and walked over to the entryway.

"Hey." You smiled, going over to him and giving him a small kiss. "How was patrol?"

"Was good, nothin' special really." He replied, wanting to keep the record player a secret so he could surprise you later.

"No infected?" You asked as you reached to help get his jacket off, before reaching for his pack too. He quickly stopped you from taking it with his hand, causing you to look at him confusedly.

"What? You hidin' something from me?" You questioned with a little smile, before retreating and hanging his jacket up.

"Not hidin' anythin'." He told you in a gruff voice as he took off his boots and followed you into the kitchen.

You gave him an 'ookay then' look, and he knew you'd seen straight through him, but you chose to just let it go. "Dinner'll be ready in a bit, then. You should go shower, you're all stinky." You teased as you wrinkled your nose slightly, making him let out a low chuckle as he walked upstairs.

"Yes ma'am."

That evening, the two of you ate and after you both finished, you were resting on the couch when Joel gently took the book you were reading from your hands.

"Wanted t'show you somethin'." He said, trying to suppress the smile that wanted to etch itself onto his face but ultimately failing.

"I knew you were hiding something!" You immediately responded with a grin as you sat up off the couch and looked at him expectedly.

"Yeah, ya always gotta be right, don't cha?" He smirked as he stood up and reached down into the pack.

"Now close your eyes." He told you, making you let out a small laugh as you did.

"Okay this better be the coolest thing ever Joel, you're really making it seem that way." You said as he stood in front of you.

"It is. Open your eyes."

You did, and when you saw the record player in his hands, you let out a little gasp and looked from him to the record player and back to him again.

"Is this.." you began, before reaching for the little clasp on it and popping it open.

He watched your eyes sparkle like they'd never done before as his heart positively melted.

"Yeah, found it on patrol." He explained as he put the record player on a table then took your hand and pulled you up from the couch.

"Y'gonna keep gawkin' at it or you wanna dance with me?" He smirked as you looked back at him and smiled.

"Yeah- Let's dance."

He put a record on that he knew you'd love and put his hand on your waist, pulling you a little closer as your hands joined behind his neck and the two of you danced slowly, swaying to the music. You looked up at his face and let your left hand trail across his jaw, cupping it as your thumb raked over the coarse stubble that littered along the bottom of his face. Your gaze shifted to his eyes, a deep warm brown which stared back at you with such love that was only reserved for a select few people in Joel's life. His face, scarred from the many battles he'd fought - physical and mental - and from age. A face which you adored regardless of any 'imperfection'. A particular scar on his temple came into view and you lingered on it for a minute. If he had been successful that day, you wouldn't be here, alive even, let alone living the best life you reckoned you could in the apocalyptic world with the man you loved. You shook the thought away and let your eyes finally fall on his lips. Slightly chapped, pink and pouty, just begging to be kissed.

Of course, you oblige as you lean in and press your lips to his, the song coming to a slow end even though you didn't notice since you were so lost in thought, in admiration for the man you were so blessed to call yours. You poured everything into the kiss, wanting to emphasise just how much you loved him without even needing words. He needed to know it, and you'd come to realise that, so you showed him as much as you could every single day.

Thank you SM for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated and requests are open 💞

[cultofdixon]

You’ll always be important to me

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • When you and Daryl started your own little family, Judith thought that meant everything was changing. But she will always be a part of their family • ANGST/SFW • TW: Pregnancy & Birth Mentioned / Anxiety / Sleep Deprivation / Minor Injuries • Commonwealth canon re-written

Requested by: Anon

“Run that back?”

“I’m pregnant, D…”

Daryl looks at his wife a bit taken back by what she said. The silence ate Y/N alive when he didn’t say anything in response after she stated supposedly good news a second time.

Then she was suddenly brought into his embrace feeling the archer tighten his grasp on her carefully.

“We’re gonna be parents…holy shit. We’re havin’ a baby” Daryl lets out a chuckle as he held her close feeling her latch onto him.

“Our family is getting bigger…”

~

“She’s having a baby?” Judith questions once more to Daryl watching the man nod as she gave him a blank stare followed by silence.

Before he could even question what could be going on in that mind of hers, the young Grimes went in for a hug that he happily returned.

“You and Y/N are going to be great parents”

They kind of…already were because the two took in the Grimes kids when Michonne left on this unknown journey that only Judith knew was to find Rick. Daryl was always Rick and Michonne’s first option when it came to taking their kids in any way. Judith has always been the archer’s adoptive daughter in a way that everyone knew, and Y/N has told him every time they just thought about having kids of their own that he will be great because Judith was his first kid.

She always will be

Even when she has her doubts

The first two months into pregnancy were a bit stressful because Alexandria had just suffered a herd going through it and the news of this new community surfaced. Which lead to a possible ally ship that Eugene, Ezekiel, and Yumiko were being the voices for Alexandria to acquire such. Of course Carol will help in her own way to make sure this community wasn’t going to stab them in the back in any way, but for now their promise of helping Alexandria rebuild itself sounded promising. They even offered housing in their community for those who wanted it until their community is rebuilt. As long as they did their part.

Which is only fair. But it wasn’t going to be easy to try and convince an already anxious person to move into unknown territory.

“No”

“But Y/N—-“

“I’m pregnant! It’s an unknown community! My brother is here, my family is here, why would you—-“

“Jude and RJ are comin’ with us. And Aaron will visit but he’s takin’ lead from the Alexandria’s side on the rebuild”

“Why can’t we help—-“

“Because you’re pregnant and Commonwealth has the resources”

“Resources?! We have—-“

“NOT IF SOMETHING BAD HAPPENS TO YEA!” Daryl yells, which was met with instant regret given the flinch that he drew out of his wife. “I’m sorry…I’m really sorry for snappin’. I just. I can’t lose you…I can’t. Lose. You.” He tried his best to contain his anxiety that was picking at him to get him to sob as Y/N brought herself close bringing her arms around his middle.

“Daryl…Nothin’ bad is gonna happen to me. Or our baby. Or our kids…we’ll be safe…”

“Please Y/N…we don’t have to live there forever. Just until Alexandria is rebuilt…Aaron will come and get us when it’s done.”

Y/N held her husband while all his anxiety continued to radiate off him as she rests her chin on his chest looking up at him.

“Okay”

“Okay?”

“Yes…but I’m not raising our baby in the Commonwealth. Once we are both fit, and Alexandria is back in working order…we come home”

“I promise, sunshine” Daryl presses a kiss to her forehead before her cheek ending with one on her lips. But he wasn’t letting go of her anytime soon. “Yea think they’d try anythin’?”

“I trust our people who found the community when they say to put some trust in this place. But I’m just. If something were to happen, Carol won’t leave us in the dark. None of them would”

“I’ll burn the place down if anythin’ happens to my family”

His wife laughs to such even if it were true that the archer would do such if it came to that. But thankfully, the entrance into this new community wasn’t too bad and that they would be updated occasionally on the rebuild by Y/N’s brother Aaron.

Their temp apartment was a bit small, but once Daryl finished training they put the family of five (including Dog) into a bigger place. One where Judith and RJ shared the other room and the adults obviously got their own.

“I look ridiculous”

“I think…as long as it protects my strong handsome husband from walkers…I think you’ll look fine” Y/N smiles waiting for Daryl to step out of the bathroom in his armor while she waited, Judith came in in the new dress she picked out when getting clothing for school. “Oh my god. You look beautiful! Come here look in the mirror!” She got up from the bed directing Judith into the full body mirror smiling even more when the young child started to smile.

“You think I’ll make friends?”

“Of course I do! You are a wonderful, smart, creative young woman that who wouldn’t be your friend?” Y/N smiles holding Judith close as she held her arms until she felt safe to let go or at least until Daryl stepped out in his armor.

“I really feel ridiculous” Daryl states joining the two in the mirror watching them both look at him. “What? You agree?”

“You look like a stormtrooper”

“What’s a stormtrooper?” Judith questions making Y/N laugh to herself forgetting she was born in the apocalypse.

“It’s what Uncle Daryl is. But Uncle Daryl is on the good side while stormtroopers were bad guys”

“Yknow. There’s a rental video place. I bet yea they’ve got Star Wars…Aunt Carol has a TV”

“I swear. This is a rare sighting, Daryl actually offering to watch Star Wars” Y/N elbows the man while letting go of Judith a moment.

“Never said I’m watchin’. Y’all can watch it with Carol”

“Sounds good. Carol is a better cuddle partner anyway” Y/N playfully jokes resulting in a glare and a scoff from the archer.

“Nah. You and I only cuddle”

“Jealous aren’t we Uncle Daryl?” Judith giggles a bit before leaving the two to make sure her brother was ready to go. Daryl felt the embarrassment upon admitting such bring the heat to the tips of his ears.

The woman laughs herself before bringing her husband in the mirror with her holding him from the side. He wrapped his arm around her bringing his lips to her temple.

“Wanna see something amazing before you take the kids to school?”

Daryl felt her pull away he always hated that feeling and watched her pull her sweater back enough to show that she popped.

“Now how the fuck am I supposed to go to work and focus when that’s gonna be on my mind all day” Daryl instantly brought Y/N close listening to her giggle as he gently rests his hand on her bump.

“You make it look like nothing”

“It’s somethin’, sunshine” Daryl smiles bringing her back into his embrace as she kept her face away from the armor not liking the new plastic smell.

This was nice. Experiencing the good domestic life…something people since the outbreak happened have longed for. The kids were enjoying school, Daryl was slowly rising in his job resulting in his family moving at least two more times in the new place, and given all the medical resources Y/N was healthy and so was their baby girl. Carol did more research and learned that the community did have an intense leader type before they joined and she was taken down by her own assistant who now helps run more of a council system like what they had at Alexandria. So the overwhelming anxiety about their safety lessened but it was still there.

“You’ve been put on bedrest for a reason”

“Did Daryl tell you to come here and just to tell me that?” Y/N scoffs letting Carol into their place.

“I don’t think you should be questioning when you’re not listening to doctor’s orders”

“Daryl left early and forgot to make lunches for the kids…so I had to. All I remember him telling me was you were going to take the kids…now you’re back”

“Cuz well he told me to keep an eye on yea and make sure you were in bed”

Y/N started to ignore her as she tiredly sits on the couch resting her hands on her belly. Carol brought herself in the kitchen to grab Y/N a glass of water before noticing the letters on the counter from Aaron. They weren’t anything bad, just what was promised of him to update her on Alexandria. And updates on Gracie, Maggie and Hershel adjusting,…their family back home. She was getting homesick and didn’t tell Daryl about it because of how great this place is and how he at least wants the baby to be delivered in a place built for it because Commonwealth did have a hospital. She’s just been keeping a lot of her feelings to herself which led to her stressing and the OB telling her to stay in bed.

“You know once the baby is here we get to go home” Carol assures her as she hands the glass while sitting beside her friend. “Once you two are strong enough, we’ll pack up and head home. I know Aaron will be excited to meet his niece”

The silence was killer and Carol couldn’t help but sense there was much more to it.

“Y/N…I won’t tell Daryl anythin’ you don’t want me to” and that prompted Y/N to finally make eye contact with her before quickly looking away. “Hun…”

“I don’t…I don’t want our kids feeling like, we don’t care about them when she comes. I…I know she’s going to be a priority but I’m just worried…”

“Y/N…Judith and RJ are so loved by you and Daryl. It would take killing the both of you to stop such. Even then I doubt you’ll ever stop. You’re bringing a baby into the world. They know it’ll take time to go back to the old routine. But even then, you love so much and I mean so fucking much. They’ll never forget it”

When the baby finally came, Carol brought the kids to meet her once it was okay to do so. And of course Daryl was hogging their baby because when the three entered the room also being greeted by Ezekiel, they noticed Daryl protectively holding his baby.

“I swear D. Has your wife, aka the baby’s mother, even got a chance to hold her?”

“Yeah” Daryl scoffs. “When she came out” he adds and that led to a bit of laughter to fill the room as he brought himself over to Judith and RJ kneeling before them to show the little girl sleeping peacefully in his embrace.

“She’s tiny” RJ comments as he looks at the child shocked on how the fuck this little human came into the world.

“What’s her name?”

“Robin” Y/N tiredly replies from the bed as Carol approaches her side smiling and brushing the loose hairs out of her face.

“You did good, mama” Carol smiles sitting with Y/N on her bed watching the display of Daryl with all three kids. “They’re going to be inseparable”

Robin Dixon was SWARMED when they finally returned to Alexandria. For Daryl’s anxiety, they waited for her to be a month old before moving back. Maggie and Aaron instantly went toward the child, as Aaron took said child from Daryl and before he could even try and get his daughter back Maggie cut between them.

“It’s our time with the newest addition”

“But—-“

“No buts! You took my sister away for almost a year and now I’m making up for that time with my niece”

“You’re gonna take my kid for almost a year?!”

“No! An hour at most” Aaron scoffs followed by a smirk as he knelt down to show his kid her cousin while Maggie showed Hershel their new family member.

Y/N felt overwhelmed with joy, fear, anxiety…all kinds of things. But she was happy to be home…even if some part of her fear was triggered by worry. Especially when she noticed Judith try and get Daryl’s attention when it’s so focused on this little baby. His baby.

Hours passed…the Dixons and Grimes were back in their house putting everything away and Y/N was thankful for the nursery being finished when they arrived. By help of Maggie. As Daryl started to get Robin to calm down to sleep, Y/N went to check on the Grimes kids. Finding RJ already passed out in his own bed, leaving her to check on Judith who sat on her bed looking at Carl’s hat in her hands.

“You happy to be in your old room again?” Y/N smiles leaning against the door when she noticed a few tears in the young girl’s eyes. “Hey…” her smile faded as she brought herself in closing the door not all the way before sitting beside Judith. “Love, what’s wrong?”

“I miss my mom…my dad…Carl…” Judith sniffled as she carefully hugged the hat while Y/N wrapped her arm around her shoulder. “I know change is normal and all…but I just. It’s been a month already and I feel like I’m just going to be forgotten about”

New baby. New environment. Y/N was still in that weird haze of unwelcome emotions do to hormones as she brought Judith close resting her head on top of hers.

“No one is going to forget you. You are very important to a lot of us. You are so loved and you are a huge part of why a lot of us got together. You are a big piece in our family, Jude”

“Then…wh…”

“Hm? What is it?”

“I know she’s bright and shiny, and his blood…but I just. Don’t think I’m that important to Uncle Daryl anymore”

Right before Y/N can assure her of anything, the door pushed open finding a semi tired RJ that was eavesdropping but also the archer standing behind him. The display made both girls think that RJ heard Judith was in distress in some way that she needed an adult. Which was the truth but he was looking for Y/N first, and found Daryl.

Now they’re here and Daryl felt awful hearing such as he enters with RJ who instantly sprinted to Y/N when he started making his way in.

“You are very important to me, Jude.” Daryl brought himself to sit on the opposite side of her as all of them were on the bed now. “Yeah, I’ve got a baby now…but in a sense, she’s not my first kid. I helped raise yea. Took care of yea. Made sure you had some sense of a childhood in this hell of a world…and did my best not to let you feel an ounce of abandonment when Michonne left. Same for RJ. Yeah…your mom will come back after she finds whatever she went out there for. But you’ll always be my kid”

Judith couldn’t contain the tears anymore as she sobbed into Daryl when he brought her into his embrace. He held her protectively…the same feeling…

Like when he first held her

[otomehonyaku]

DIABOLIK LOVERS More,Blood Genteiban DVD Translation ☽ Mini Drama II (Yuma, Shuu, Reiji)

Original title: DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE,BLOOD 限定版 SPECIAL DISK III Mini Drama II Voiced by Suzuki Tatsuhisa (Yuma), Toriumi Kōsuke (Shuu), Konishi Katsuyuki (Reiji) English translation by @otomehonyaku Click here for the audio (thank you @uzi-boozii for providing the audio!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Please do not reuse or post my translations elsewhere or translate my work into other languages without my permission.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I'm on a roll with the drama CDs this week! Here's the next instalment of the More,Blood special disks. The final one in this series, featuring Ruki, Azusa, Kanato, and Ayato, is coming next week ✧ദ്ദി( ˶^ᗜ^˶ )

As always, have fun listening and reading along! (♡ˊ͈ ��� ˋ͈)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[This scene takes place after Yuma takes Yui’s blood in front of Shuu at the academy. They are now in the school infirmary.]

00:00 Yuma: Tch. Your face’s white as a fuckin’ sheet. You don’t taste good when you’re already half empty. Hurry up ‘n save up some blood so I can suck it.

[Yuma chews on a sugar cube.]

Y: I won’t hand you over to those bastards. Not until I become Adam. Better rest up, Sow.

[Reiji walks in.]

Reiji: Oh? What are you doing here?

Y: None of your business, smart-ass. (1)

R: Heh. It seems that you have taken too much of her blood, rendering her useless. 

Y: If you already know, you’d better fuck off.

R: Did you say something?

Y: Nothin’ in particular. Sow won’t be getting any rest anytime soon, though. We need her blood. More and more of it.

R: Heh.

Y: What’s so funny?

R: That is absurd.

Y: Huh?

R: Greedily devouring her without thinking of the repercussions… Exactly what I expect from mongrels like you.

Y: The fuck d’ya say?

R: Heh. It does not take a lot to upset you. How very predictable.

Y: Fuck off!

02:04 R: Good grief… If you continue taking her blood so carelessly, she will die before long.

Y: What’s wrong ‘bout a vampire suckin’ human blood? Don’t act like we’re not doin’ the same thing y’all did!

R: I would appreciate it if you did not liken yourselves to us. I have merely been treating her with the appropriate courteousness. Verbally abusing me without having the slightest notion of who I am is simply absurd. Foolish, rather.

Y: Hah! Foolish, you say. Right back at ya.

R: How so?

Y: Haha. You don’t know anythin’ either, do you?

R: What do I not know about you?

Y: You think we’re carelessly feeding on her for no reason at all? That’s foolish. We’re taking her blood ‘cause… Ah.

[Yuma catches himself before he divulges the Mukami’s plans.]

R: What is it?

Y: Heh. It’s got nothin’ to do with you.

R: That is regrettable. But even if you would have let your tongue slip, it is not that difficult to guess...

[Yuma grabs Reiji by the collar.]

Y: Why’re you pickin’ a fight with me if you already know?

R: I only know because you were chattering away, oblivious of your surroundings. Well, if lowly scum such as you former humans would be scheming anything… it would have nothing to do with me.

Y: Ha! Then you’re fine with me doin’ as I please with her?

R: Indeed. Because whatever you half-bloods are planning, you could never outmatch us to begin with. Besides, she is nothing but prey to us.

Y: What about you, huh? You OK with me takin’ Sow away from ya?

04:19 R: That is a foolish question. Are you saying she is valuable to us at all?

Y: Well, I’m glad. We’ll do exactly as we please with her, then.

R: However, please remember that when you make a move on the Sakamaki family, we will eliminate you without mercy.

[Reiji leaves.]

Y: Tch. What an indecisive asshole.

[Yuma leaves as well. The scene shifts to Yuma walking down the hallway, where he accidentally stumbles upon Shuu again.]

05:18 Y: Ugh, first that smart-ass and now this NEET (2), too?

S: Wait.

Y: What?

S: Are you really a vampire?

Y: The fuck? You askin’ that out of pride ‘cause you’re a pureblood? Like I said to Four-Eyes, we’re half-blood vampires. Used to be human. That’s got nothin’ to do with you.

S: Since when?

Y: Huh?

S: When did you become vampires? Who turned you?

Y: How’s that matter to you? I don’t get it.

S: Answer me.

Y: Tch. Don’t order me around like you're superior. It’s pissin’ me off. Ah… Who knows? It’s been so long that I forgot.

S: Have you always had that name?

Y: You listenin’ to me? Why do I gotta tell you? I don’t get it.

S: You don’t remember?

Y: What’d you say? What do you know ‘bout my memories?

S: Hm.

Y: And now you’re staying quiet. Tch. It’s not like I got anything to hide, though. I don’t remember my childhood. The only thing I’ve got left from then are my burn scars. I don’t even remember my own name.

S: Burn scars?

Y: Huh? Oh, and there’s a birth mark on my shoulder. But I guess that doesn’t really matter.

S: Ah!

Y: What? Why’re you so surprised? It’s not like it still hurts or itches now, either.

S: Hm…

Y: You seem kinda out of it. You sure you’re alright with us takin’ Sow away from y’all?

S: I guess. What you do with that woman has nothing to do with me.

Y: How’re you and that Four-Eyes so calm about all this? Don’t come cryin’ to me ‘bout it later!

07:42 S: She’s nothing but prey to us. Someone else will come to take her place when she dies.

Y: You really think so? She’s the only...

S: Aren’t you a little too interested in her?

Y: Heh. We have our reasons.

S: I see.

Y: Ha. Famous last words? You selfish fucking aristocrat. Tch. You’re all insane…

[Yuma walks away.]

S: Burn marks… So it is him.

[The scene shifts to Reiji.]

R: They are completely obsessed with her blood… There is no mistaking what they must be scheming. It seems there is an ulterior motive. When I think about it, it can only be him pulling the strings behind all of this… What on Earth is he planning?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

(1) 蘊蓄（うんちく）: Lit. ‘great/vast knowledge.’ Yuma uses this word to call Reiji 蘊蓄野郎（うんちくやろう）and in this case 野郎 (やろう) can be translated as ‘bastard,’ so—although it doesn’t cover the full extent of the meaning of these words—I translated it as ‘smart-ass’ here for convenience.

(2) NEET (Not in Education, Employment or Training): Japanese-English abbreviation for young people who don’t do anything with their lives.

[corazondebeskar-reads]

you know you never stood a chance - chapter four

you know you never stood a chance series

four: beg me to take care of things

qz!Joel Miller x f!reader

series masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: You continue your free use arrangement with Joel in exchange for shelter, but it hits a little snag.

Warnings: qz life comes with its own warning, dub-con due to power imbalance, trading sex for shelter, free use, vaginal sex, anal play, oral sex (m&f receiving), canon-typical violence, whoops there's more plot, Joel is mean/bad at feelings, no y/n, despite what it looks like this is NOT going to follow canon

also on ao3

“Not a fucking sound,” he whispers, stifling your moan with his hand. Ellie is asleep in the next room over, but the glass of the door between you is broken. It’s the only reason he feels comfortable leaving her in that room: the sole entrance is in his line of sight.

He’s got you pinned to the grimy tile, his whole weight atop you as he fucks into your cunt. You can’t make a sound if you wanted; you can hardly draw a breath. He’s not a small man by any means. But it feels so fucking good.

It’s been weeks. Ever since you got roped into this mission, ever since you left the QZ, he hadn’t touched you once.

It hurts in the best way, though just a little past the point of pleasure. There wasn't the time for prep. But your whole body is tingling just from finally having his hands back on you, his thick cock inside you, feeling like more than just a burden.

Each slap of his hips against you is a rebirth. In the six months before you started on this horrible trek, you had known very little outside of Joel’s touch. You went to work each morning, collected rations, and came home. He’d come home an hour later, always on edge, always looking for an outlet.

For six months, you had been little more than Joel Miller’s live-in fucktoy, and honestly, it was probably the best six months of your life since the outbreak. You wanted for nothing (at least in the realities of post-apocalyptic life—in the grander scheme of things, you wouldn’t have said no to some fucking McDonald’s french fries). You had protection. You had shelter. You had company.

Well. Okay. You sort of had company. You could count on him to speak at least a few words in the evening. He almost always made sure you came, too. It had been hard at first, relying on him, but there was no use for a martyr complex these days. The only one who’d suffer by turning down assistance was, well, you.

He doesn’t make sure you cum, this time, but you think he can tell you don’t need any help. The relief of having him inside you is enough, and you can’t spare the energy to be embarrassed about it.

After he pulls out, having covered your ass in his cum, he stands up immediately, knees cracking. He tucks himself away and nudges you with the toe of his boot. “Up, get dressed.”

You scramble up, tugging your pants back into place, and watch him for a moment. His jaw is ticking, and he’s scowling at the wall behind you.

You open your mouth, and he cuts you off. “Shouldn’t have done that. Not gonna happen again.”

You’re aghast. “What?”

“Wasn’t fair of me. Y’don’t owe me anythin’ out here.”

You take a hesitant step closer. His jaw twitches again, but he doesn’t move (or look at you). “You’re still protecting me,” you offer.

“I made you come out here. Kinda have to protect you.”

“You don’t, though,” you say, feeling emboldened enough to slide your hand up his arm to his bicep.

He knocks your arm away and grabs you by the chin. “Why’d you even come? You just do whatever I say, even stupid shit?”

“Well, yeah. Didn't really have a better offer.”

“Christ.” He drops his hand from you and wipes it down his face.

“How ‘bout you get some sleep?” you say warily. The bags under his eyes are deeper and darker than ever. “I can keep watch.”

“You learn how to shoot a gun when I was takin’ a piss earlier?”

“No, but I can still keep watch. I can wake you up if anything happens.”

You’re shocked when he seems to actually consider it. It’s the safest you’ve been in weeks, here in this abandoned high-rise. There are no signs of Infected or hunters.

“Fine.” He grunts. “But you wake me if there’s any sound. I don’t care if you think it’s a rat or the wind. You fuckin’ wake me, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” you joke. Something darkens behind his eyes just for a moment, until he blinks it away. You file that away for later.

He hands you a pistol and a knife, just in case. Not that you’ll know what to do with either, but he can’t just leave you unarmed. You nod, understanding passing between you.

He sucks on his front teeth, staring at you for a moment like he wants to say something. You’re not sure you want to hear it, though, so you say, “Goodnight, Joel.”

Nothing happens. You stand, leaning against the door frame, Joel’s pistol in your hands. Despite his paranoia, there’s not even a squeak out of place, and he sleeps for four full hours before getting up. He moves more nimbly than he has since, well. Since Tess.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious to know what was between them. She had, after all, seemed very aware of what function you served to Joel, but there was no jealousy in her eyes. Maybe when he fucked her, it was like making love, and she was fine to leave all the rough, angry moments for you to absorb.

Or maybe it was nothing. It hardly mattered, and she was nice to you, so you respected her memory by leaving it alone.

Though you do wonder if that’s why he wouldn’t touch you anymore.

Dawn hasn’t broken, and Ellie is still asleep. When he comes out to check on you, you offer the only other comfort you can.

When you sink to your knees, he closes his eyes for just a moment and sighs. “Yeah, okay,” he says. His body had worked ahead of his brain, already undoing the button on his jeans, and he lets you ease him into the morning.

After, when he helps you stand, he holds you against him for a moment, and even presses a kiss into your hair almost absentmindedly. You figure maybe he’s forgotten his promise that it would never happen again.

And he does, for a little while.

When you first moved into his apartment, it was so incredibly awkward. Like, worse than a school dance awkward. Worse than walking in on your sister getting railed by some scrawny FEDRA officer awkward.

Eventually, you tracked his habits and rhythms and used the information to stay out of his way. You stopped wearing underwear when you were home, as it ended up on the floor anyway. After a while, he just started leaving you a couple of his shirts, and you gave up on sweatpants entirely.

You’d be lying if you said you were uncomfortable, and he tended to leave the shirt on you when he fucked you, so there was no need for dressing and undressing.

He left first in the morning and came home last, so the key quickly became your responsibility. He had shoved it into your hand the second evening.

“I’m leavin’ for a couple days. Lock the apartment. Don’t talk to anyone, and don’t tell anyone I’m gone.”

Before he left that evening, he ordered you to your knees and fucked your throat, wiping away the tears after he finished. “Be good,” he said, dragging his knuckles down your cheek.

And then he was gone. You locked the door behind him and sat on the dingy carpet, legs folded pretzel-style. The yellow fluorescent bulb overhead had a faint pulse to it, a barely-there dimming and brightening that started to hurt your eyes. What the fuck were you supposed to do here, in this flat you were haunting?

You didn’t dare look around. You ate the rations you had earned and left everything else alone. You knew there were pills, guns, and alcohol somewhere. You weren’t keen on learning where, though. Plausible deniability and all that.

Joel came home in the middle of the night three days later. The key issue became apparent when he had to pound on the door until you woke up to let him in.

“New plan,” he snarled when he came in. “From now on, when I’m gone, I’m lockin’ you in here until I get back.”

“Fuck no,” you said.

“The fuck did you say to me?” he said, stalking closer.

“What if you don’t come back soon enough? What if I fuckin’ run out of food?”

“You think I’d go to all this trouble to keep you safe and then let ya die in here?”

“I don’t know!” Your heart struggled to keep up with your irrational fury, and stumbled at his words. Why did he go to all this trouble? You were about to ask, but of course, he ruined it.

“What good’s your pussy to me then, huh?” He was chest-to-chest with you, towering with a venomous glare.

“I don’t know, Miller, you’re kind of a creep. Maybe you’re into that.”

“I’m a creep, huh? Then why are you so wet?”

You flushed, heat crawling across your cheeks and ears. “Who says I’m wet?”

It was the wrong thing to say. He pinned you against the door and shoved your pants down, plunging three fingers right into your cunt. You yelped at the stretch and pinch, but had nowhere to go, nowhere to run, as he brought them up to your face, coated in slick.

“Looks pretty wet to me,” he said, the words rumbling from somewhere deep and dark within. “Open.”

You did. God help you, you did. He smirked and pressed his fingers in, wiping them on your tongue.

“Suck,” he murmured.

You closed your lips around him and sucked until your cheeks hollowed around them, saliva leaking from the corners of your mouth. He pulled his fingers out and patted your cheek with the same hand, leaving a wet trail behind.

“Go get on the fuckin’ bed.”

"Which bed is the fucking bed?" you said before you could control yourself, and darted into his room before he could register your words.

You were hardly in position when his hands gripped the sides of your hips, and he licked into your cunt. “Fuckin’ slut, trying to say ya weren’t wet and waitin’ for me,” he grumbled, and nipped at your thigh before diving back in.

Your orgasm came embarrassingly quickly. His derisive chuckle brushed against your clit, which he sucked at until you were spent.

“Seems like ya missed me,” he said, standing and wasting no time before stuffing his cock in. “Well? Did ya?”

You didn’t answer, whining into the sheets as he set a slow but harsh pace, slamming in only to draw back out inch by inch.

He slapped your ass, watching it ripple. “Don’t be rude, sweetheart.”

“Oh, were you gone?” you huffed between thrusts.

He brought his hand down again. “What did I just fuckin’ say?”

“Y’know, come to think of it,” you couldn’t stop yourself, couldn’t shut up, “there was a distinct lack of grouchy old creeps hanging around.”

He grabbed your hair and craned your neck back so you could see the way his eyes were blown dark, teeth bared. “Watch yourself, sweetheart. I’ve had a real bad couple of days. Here I thought I was comin’ home to a sweet cunt.”

You opened your mouth, though you didn’t feel a retort dancing on your tongue. You figured by the time you came up with it, you’d have already said it.

He didn’t give you the chance. His other hand came up, and he hooked two fingers into your cheek. The hand in your hair released to dip into your mouth, swiping his thumb through the pooling saliva. He dragged it down and pressed the wet thumb into the cleft of your ass, firm pressure against your tight hole.

You were breathing heavily around his fingers, back arched. He didn’t stop fucking into you, hissing as you clamped down when his thumb pushed in, just enough to make you feel the pressure.

“Awfully quiet now,” he drawled. “You just needed all your holes filled, huh?”

You thought you might die from the humiliation, if only the pleasure didn’t take you first. You squirmed, pushing back into him.

He jostled your head by pinching the fingers in your mouth and shaking your cheek. “You gonna be quiet if I take these out?”

You nodded. He withdrew the fingers and brought the hand down to your hip, holding you steady so he could chase his orgasm. Each rough thrust knocked a quiet cry from your lips, and he pulled away from your asshole to tangle his fingers in your hair, pulling your head back again.

The kiss was mostly teeth and spit, but it was euphoric. He felt the way you tightened and tensed, and he smiled against your lips. “Cum for me,” he said, and licked into your mouth to gobble up your scream.

When you convulsed on his cock, he lost control, and almost didn’t pull out in time. He spilled against the bed, swearing deep and low.

That memory and the many others get you through the lonely nights on the journey, your hand down your pants and gasps muffled around your fist when you can catch a moment alone. If Joel notices, he doesn’t show it. Except tonight, when you look back on it, you realize he was only making good on his promise not to let you rot in his apartment. Whatever delusions you had about being brought along get left behind in the shitty high rise.

next chapter

*title from "Send the Pain Below" by Chevelle.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Nobody's Girl - Chapter Two.

Ask and ye shall recieve, besties! Thrilled at how well-received the first chapter was, thank you all so much for your feedback :)

Previous chapters - One

Taglist - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 3,445

Warnings - Adult content throughout, minors DNI!

The sound of a garbage can hitting the sidewalk from the street below with a clatter was what roused Emily from her long, deep sleep the morning after, coming to and not immediately realising where she was. Until she smelled him on the sheets.  

While his scent lingered, the man himself was nowhere to be found, but he had left her a note. A note and a stack of cash.  

‘I have business to deal with, I’ll be back later. Go buy yourself some clothes and whatever else you need. Two of my guys, Angelo and Donny will be waiting for you downstairs. They’ll look after you.’ 

His writing was elegant and loopy, very fine penmanship, she thought, placing the note down and getting out of bed, remaking it neatly. Picking up the crisp stack of bills, her eyes bulged. All fifties. Twenty of them.  

“A grand?” she gasped, her mouth dropping open. He’d left her a thousand dollars, like it was small change! 

Placing the money back down again, she ventured to the bathroom, the only part of the apartment that was walled off from the rest. Looking at herself in the mirror, she could count it as a small mercy that Joey rarely touched her face, she supposed, always wanting to keep her pretty, as he once worded it after a beating. His body shot punches were a different matter. The soreness lingering over her ribs and stomach attested that, although she doubted anything was broken.  

Her eye was tinged with the violet and shadowy green of bruising, but gladly not swollen, the same to the side of her mouth and both cheekbones. It wasn’t ideal as visages went, to have her looks marred like that, Emily always taking pride in her appearance. Looking on at her reflection, a few tears of relief pooled her eyes, realising that the wounds he’d inflicted upon her were all that was left of the scumbag that was Joey Calabrese. 

Once she was washed and refreshed, she dressed in the other clean shirt left for her, pulling on the grey coat he’d also placed with it, thinking what a mess she looked. A sullied face, no shoes, no underwear (hers were still hanging to dry after she’d washed them in the sink the night before) and wearing men’s clothes that buried her.  

And she was about to go out in public? The utter shame of it.  

Emily quickly realised that she didn’t have a whole lot of choice in the matter, though, so all she could do was go with it. What made nerves pool in her belly more was the fact that she now had to place her faith in somebody who wasn’t Luca, two somebody’s in fact. Her trust in their boss was only tentative at best, after all.  

Was she really being taken to purchase clothes, or was something else more nefarious about to befall her? What if he’d struck a deal with Gino for her return? The words lamb and slaughter came rapidly to mind. Realising she was panicking and so far, Luca had shown no real signs of deception, she took a breath at the top of the stairs before padding down, swinging the door open and turning right.  

Two very large men turned in their seats at the bar, wide smiles greeting her. “Hey, sleepy head. I’m Angelo, this is Donny. The boss told us to take you out someplace nice for clothes. My wife tells me that new place Barney’s is the best, so we’re takin’ you over to Manhattan. You ready, toots?” 

He received an elbow and an eye roll from his cohort. “Can’t just be callin’ her toots like you know her, man,” he admonished lightly, extending his hand. “Miss Mortensen, a pleasure. I’m Donny, anythin’ you want, just ask, alright?” She shook his hand, Donny bringing it to his lips to place a little kiss upon her dainty fingers.  

“Oh, look at this guy over here,” Angelo chirped, “Mr Smooth, amirite?” 

“Screw you, pal. Gotta treat the ladies with respect, eh? Plus, she’s the boss's gal and I ain’t lookin’ to get clipped for my yap, know what I’m sayin’?” 

They were a pair, she had to admit, set at ease by their little back and forth banter. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both, too. I’m not Luca’s girl, though.” 

Angelo lifted his chin with a little grunt. “Wearin’ his clothes, came from his apartment, he told us to look after you and treat you nice. Yeah, you the boss’s gal, toots.”  

“Enough with the toots, already! This guy and his lip,” Donny chuckled, offering his arm to Emily. “Let’s go, huh?”  

Her giggles peppered the air, taking the arm of the younger man, Angelo ambling along behind them. “See? Even left us his best car to take you out in. If you ain’t his gal then trust me, the big man is definitely sweet on ya, wanting you taken out in the Rolls.”  

“Woah,” she gasped, seeing the shiny, black Silver Ghost parked at the curb, a car of esteemed value and luxury. “Oh my god, it’s beautiful.” 

“Ain’t it, though?” Donny spoke, opening the door for her and gesturing in. “Drives like a dream, too.”  

The men mostly talked between themselves for the duration of the journey, asking her a few questions here and there along the way. Truly there wasn’t much more they could converse with her about, for what did two mobsters and a naive twenty-three-year-old woman truly have in common? Not a whole lot.  

“So, the big man says you’re a sunshine state gal,” Angelo broached, looking at her in the rear-view mirror. “What part ya from?”  

“San Francisco,” she replied. 

“Get outta here, I gotta cousin from my wife’s side who lives out there!” he laughed warmly. “Hey, how about those Giants, huh? We whooped ‘em big style this year!” 

“Oh, I don’t really follow baseball. I take it you’re a Yankees fan?” 

“Until my dying breath, toots!”  

The demeanour of the men set her at ease, even more so when they entered Manhattan, a place she had only been to once before. The buildings loomed huge overhead, Emily looking out of the window with curiosity filled eyes, Donny nudging Angelo and jerking his head back with a smile at her wonder.  

“Oh, it’s so fancy,” she exclaimed, looking up at the department store once they’d parked up and alighted the car, her gaze then falling down to her bare feet. Discomfort tingled through her chest and down her legs. “And I have to go in there like this.”  

“Eh, don’t you stress about it, you hear?” Angelo spoke, offering his arm. “You gonna get all fixed up even prettier than you are, I tell ya. Let’s go.” 

Donny swung the doors open, following them into the hustle and bustle of the store, Emily feeling like such a fish out of water as she gazed around. It was all so indulgent, so luxurious, and there she was, a poor girl from San Francisco, barefoot and makeup free, with her roots showing and her face all marked up. 

It didn’t take long for her appearance to draw stares. From clientele to staff alike. One particular woman working within the ladies' clothing section was absolutely not shy in looking her up and down several times, Emily dropping her head in embarrassment, letting her pale waves cover her face.  

Oh, no. That would not do. 

“Hey you, with the twisted-up mouth like a dog’s asshole,” Angelo began, clicking his fingers at the woman and pointing before him, pulling out a fat wad of bills from his pocket. “We got a lotta dough to spend in here, and it’s your job to make Miss Mortensen happy while she’s goin’ about it. So, set your face straight and hop to it.”  

Her eyes bulged at being handed a fifty, the woman fixing her face in a wide, friendly smile that had not existed prior to knowing that the well-dressed men and the poor looking, barefooted scrap who accompanied them were, in fact, likely the wealthiest people in the store. Maybe the girl was of some kind of European aristocracy, she wondered? Perhaps a little eccentric, hence the men’s clothes and bare feet?  

“Certainly, sir,” she nodded, turning to Emily with a smile. “Good morning, Miss Mortensen. My name is Ivy, and it would be my pleasure to show you some of our garments. What are we in the market for today?” 

“Everything, four times over,” Donny spoke, winking at Emily when she smiled up at him. “Go on, you go enjoy yourself. We’ll be right here, darlin’.” She was a little reluctant to move away from them, Donny remembering Luca specifically stating to treat her with care and never leave her alone, even for a second, watching her relax when he stepped forward and accompanied her as she began browsing the clothing.  

Dresses, blouses, skirts, pants, shoes, underwear, stockings, cardigans, shawls, purses and hats were all perused and gathered, Emily having a wail of a time trying everything on and playing model for her approving audience.  

“Beautiful, stunning, get in black, too!” Angelo enthused as she twirled in a deep red fringed dress, he and Donny clapping. She presumed them to be merely humouring her, of course thinking she was the boss’s girl, no matter how much she corrected them to the contrary. The two mafioso’s were genuinely having a good time with their young companion, though, watching this girl who looked like she’d never had two pennies to rub together suddenly catapulted into a world of splendour.  

“You need a fur too, toots. Here, feel this. Mink. Gorgeous, ain’t it? I got one for my wife last week. I swear, she’d sleep in the thing!” Angelo spoke, approaching with a gorgeous, pale grey coat. Emily placed her arms in, pulling it over her shoulders, turning to look at herself in the mirror.  

How was this her life?  

“How much is it?” she asked the assistant. 

“Two hundred and thirty dollars, Miss Mortensen.” 

She’d been adding it up in her head, her running total for the items she’d already chosen. God, it cost even more than all of them put together. Turning to Angelo, she bit her lip nervously. “Do I take it?” 

“Of course, ya take it! How much did your man give ya?” 

“A grand,” she confirmed, the burly man laughing softly. 

“Well, he gave me an extra G on top of that, should you go too wild. Told me to make sure you had a good time, so let’s see to gettin’ you a chinchilla too. You’ll need different ones for different outfits, amirite? I know you dames like that.”  

She had a thousand, and Angelo had a backup thousand. Good god, her head was spinning. The chinchilla coat was tried on, Emily falling in love with it, choosing an outfit to wear right away and going to dress while the assistant took her purchases to the sales desk and rang everything up. All in all, it came to seven hundred and twenty dollars.  

She felt faint.  

A trip to the cosmetics department, and she’d spent almost another hundred on high end makeup, perfume, face creams, necessities for her hair, etcetera. No matter how much the guys encouraged her, she still felt guilty, knowing it wasn’t her money and she hadn’t done a thing to earn it.  

“Yeah, you did,” Donny spoke after she had voiced that thought to him, his arms laden with bags as they left the store. “You saved the boss’s life by tellin’ him about what was under his car.” 

She supposed if that was the way Luca expressed his gratitude, she could live with it. Still, she would have settled for a place to stay for the night and only that all the same. Afterwards, she was whisked across the city to a beautiful Italian restaurant for lunch, Emily feeling much more confident about her appearance after applying some makeup on the ride over.  

“Well, toots,” Angelo began at the doors, taking her hand and kissing it. “We had a real good time with you, but this is where we leave ya. Don’t worry about your things, we’ll get it all back to Brooklyn.” 

“See ya, darlin’.” Donny spoke, offering her the same before they turned and left, Emily quite confused as the Maitre'd approached.  

“Miss Mortensen, your table is ready. Please follow me.” 

Were they really leaving her to dine in the city alone? How on earth would she get back to Brooklyn? She didn’t even know Luca’s address! All her thoughts swirled as her heart began to hammer, being led through the grand looking restaurant, Emily looking up and feeling her worries melt in an instant. 

“Well, don’t you scrub up beautiful, huh?” Luca spoke, rising to his feet and taking her hand, kissing it softly. “You have a good time with the guys?”  

“I did, thank you,” she spoke, suddenly feeling a little shy. “Thank you so much, too, for leaving me the cash. I have change, here.”  

At watching her delve a hand into her pocket, he shook his head, touching a hand to her arm. “No, doll. That’s your money, not mine.” God, she was just so adorable. No other woman he’d ever encountered would think to be that courteous as to try and return the cash she hadn’t spent to him. The man pulled in roughly two million a year, and here was this sweet little flower, trying to give him change.  

“How has your morning been so far?” she asked courteously, Luca taking the bottle of carbonated water from the table and pouring a glass for her. It still aggrieved him, that he couldn’t enjoy a good bottle of wine while in a restaurant. Fuck the Volstead Act.  

“Busy, mainly. It’s how I like it, though. Profitable, too.” Translation; he’d personally visited a man who was proving to be a growing pain in his ass regarding his rum running operations, and duly shot him in the face for his behaviour. He’d then called upon another who owed him money, and broken a finger for every week he’d been late to pay him. Four fingers had ended up bent out of shape, Luca walking away with his money plus a hefty late payment fee.  

It was good being king. 

It hit him then, realising that it had been a long, long time since anybody had asked him how his day had gone. It was so simple, yet so profound that she had the courtesy to genuinely inquire. The whores he fucked never did, obviously. His ex-wife seldom had, that was for sure. He rested his chin in a clasp between his thumb and forefingers as he viewed her inquisitively, Emily just about able to see the smile beginning to grow from beneath his hand.  

“What?” she asked, feeling uncomfortable to be caught in a gaze so focused. “Do I have something on my face?”  

He closed his eyes, laughing softly through his nose. Fucking adorable, and it killed him. “No, baby. I just can’t remember the last time I met a woman like you.”  

“I saw the girls in your joint last night,” she began, shrugging a little, “You must meet pretty girls all time. I mean, not that I think I’m exceptionally pretty or anything.” 

Leaning forward suddenly, he covered her hand with his. “True, doll. I do meet pretty gals all the damned time. But that ain’t what I meant.” That bold, evergreen gaze of his fixed upon her so strongly, her heart skipped, Emily swallowing hard. Being fixed with a gaze of such intensity, she didn’t know whether to be nervous or excited, so settled for an equal measure of both. “You’re not like other women.”  

Shyness crept over her, her cheeks colouring as she bit her lip, the tattooed hand resting atop hers gently squeezing. “How can you know that? You barely know me.”  

“True.” His eyebrows fluttered slightly, leaning back again as he removed the toothpick from between his teeth, pointing right at her with a narrow-eyed gaze. “Says a whole lot about you that I can, though, don’t it?”  

The conflict within her ran so rampant, for a few moments she felt a little queasy, shrinking into the collar of her fur coat more, the chinchilla pelt soft against her cheeks, cheeks that prickled cerise, wishing she could hide how her emotions betrayed her feeble attempt to remain passive.  

She needn’t have felt bad. Nobody was a match for Luca Changretta once he’d set himself to unravel them.  

“Oh, and by the way,” he began, standing, adjusting his suit a little before touching a hand to her shoulder as he leaned down. “You are exceptionally pretty. Excuse me a moment.”  

He walked away grinning, leaving here there practically boiling under her collar. “Rack ‘em up and knock ‘em down.” he muttered smugly, trying to ignore the tight pull of protest against his scheming arrogance when it jabbed him in the chest. The voice telling him his desire to know more about who she was as well as what she knew could pipe the hell down, too. As could his heartbeat.  

Fuck.  

After using the restroom, he returned to the table to find a waiter hovering, looking at him nervously. Fear or awe; they were usually the top two reactions invoked by his presence.  

“Rib eye, rare. Emily, have whatever you want.”  

Lifting up the menu, she quickly scanned the dishes, thinning her lips as she tried to make a decision rapidly, so as not to hold the waiter up. None of it was familiar to her. “What would you recommend?” she asked coyly, looking up at the young man with the crisp, white notepad in his hand.  

“The chicken piccata is our special today, miss. An exceptionally excellent dish.”  

She nodded, handing over the menu. “One of those, please.”  

“Certainly.”  

She let her coat fall from her shoulders, deciding she felt comfortable enough not to hide in it and pulling her arms out, letting it drape over the back of the chair. The dress she wore was beautiful, Luca noted, realising that no matter how humble and poor her beginnings were, she had very good taste. He also very much enjoyed the way the black lace hugged her tiny frame.  

God, she was so little. Five feet two, if that. He’d be scared of breaking her, if he ever got her underneath him, pressed her to his bed, let his hands and mouth wander over her... 

“Do you come here regularly?” 

Her question shattered the glass that housed his impure, lustful thoughts, Luca reaching for his water and taking a sip. “I used to all the time, but not so much recently. Don’t wanna run into my ex, but I know for fact she’s in Florida with the kids right now.” 

She had wondered over his marital status, noticing that his apartment didn’t contain a drop of anything that could be constituted as a female presence. “Oh, sorry that you guys broke up,” she spoke out of courtesy, not really knowing how else to reply. 

He sniffed, rolling the toothpick in his mouth over his lower lip with his tongue. “Don’t be, I’m not.”  

“Didn’t end well, huh?” 

“Nah. It’s probably mostly my fault, but yeah. Eighteen years over, because neither of us cared enough to save it. What about you? Any exes out there with burned bridges?”  

She laughed softly, shaking her head. She had to laugh, because little did he know but her involvement with men was so limited, it was fair to say she was severely stunted where relationships were concerned. Twenty-three and still a virgin by choice. Pathetic, really, she thought. Women her age were usually married with children, and she was still trying to find her way, but failing.  

He was giving her that look again, Emily feeling like she wanted to crawl under the table and hide from the intensity of his stare. Gathering herself a little, she quickly found something to take her mind of her sexual inadequacy. “So, these tattoos,” she began, tapping the number six atop his hand. “Do they hurt? How many do you have?” 

He couldn’t help himself. “Not much, it's a bit like a cat scratch. As for how many, maybe I’ll show you one day.”  

Her insides were reduced to smouldered ashes when he winked again, Luca watching her blush and drop her gaze. He truly couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed having the upper hand so much.  

And the arrogant fool still told himself that this was all it was.  

[ysljoon]

Hey savvvv<3 So i have a request, can you write like a established relationship smut of like simon (from cod) going absolutely feral while you ride his face? Thank youuu love you pookie🤍🤍

riding simon 'ghost' riley's face

warnings: oral (f receiving), use of pet names (lovie, sweetheart), afab reader (no use of y/n), overstimulation a/n: jay i really hope you like this im sorry for the delay oh em gee <3 MINORS DNI (have your age in your bio or you're getting blocked)

Simon had been gone on an operation for two months and you were counting down the days until he was home. Today was the day and you were sitting on the couch busily scrolling through different apps to keep yourself occupied. You couldn’t tell if it was minutes or hours until you heard the lock to the door turn and squeak on its hinges. You jumped up from your seat and scampered to see Simon placing his duffel bags on the floor and starting to take off the balaclava. Once the mask was off he met your eyes and and you couldn’t contain yourself you leapt yourself on to him and he caught you with ease. You planted kisses on every corner of his face you could reach, not even caring about the residual paint around his eyes.

“Simon, I missed you so much.” You tucked your head into his neck muffling your words a little.

“I missed you too lovie.” He traveled through the home with you still clinging on to him and once he found the bedroom he positioned you on the edge and started to kiss you with more passion and hunger. You loved when Simon used his height to dominate you and having him looming over you right now is all you dreamed about while he was away. Your hands roamed around all over his body and you felt some relief when you didn’t feel any new wounds on his torso and only the old scars you have become acquainted with over the years. 

You moved your hands down to his belt buckle and he stopped you by grabbing your wrists while not even pulling away from your lips. His reflexes never failed to leave you in awe. “You don’t hafta do anythin’ for me tonight. I’m gonna make up for all the time I left you alone. Gonna make my girl feel so good.” Hearing his gruff voice mixed with the intentions he had for you had you clenching your thighs together to get some relief for yourself. This action did not go missed by Simon. “Aw my poor girl needs to get off so bad. Let me help you sweetheart.” He crawled on to the bad so he was right above you and slid your pants fully off till you were only left in your shirt (its his shirt actually but that's neither here nor there) and panties. He pressed a thumb to your aching clit and rubbed small and slow circles but it was enough to already have you twitching. He was teasing your covered cunt and you let out whiny little whimpers hoping that was enough to give Simon enough of a hint that you need more. Simon usually would make you use your words to beg for what you need from him, but he was already mean enough for having to leave you for months. He doesn't want to make this harder for you tonight knowing how needy both you and him are.

He moved his face in between your legs and nipped the waistband of your panties and dragged them down to your ankles. He released the cloth from between his teeth and placed a gentle kiss on your very sensitive bud. “Come sit on my face lovie I need to taste you so bad. I’ve thought about your delicious fuckin’ cunt day in and day out while I was gone I need it.” You positioned yourself over his lips and while you had planned to only hover he wrapped his arms around your thighs and dragged you down till your fully bodyweight sank down on him. His lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked with so much force it had your back arching and you were crying out. Your hands tried to find purchase and clutched onto his shoulders. “C-Christ Simon. I won’t last at all if you keep it up.” “Just keep takin’ it sweetheart.” He punctuated his sentence with a nibble on your thigh and swiped his tongue along your soaked slit and inserted it inside. He hungrily ate you out and you felt an impending orgasm coming and you grinded against his tongue for extra pressure.

Your orgasm consumed your whole body and your thighs trembled around SImon’s head. You thought he would give you a small break before continuing, but he kept going and the overstimulation had you trying to pry yourself off of Simon’s face but his muscular arms gripped you in place and you couldn’t escape. “No use running from me lovie, I’m a man starved. Hope you get comfortable because you’re gonna be here for a long while.” You looked down and saw his smirk with your essence dripping down his chin.

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 37

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📖Chapter List.

Author's Note.

— TW: OFF-SCREEN TORTURE. NON-CONSENSUAL KISS INVOLVING CHILD.

Hey, everyone :) Please be mindful that this chapter is pretty intense. If what's listed in the TWs isn't something you're comfortable reading, kindly skip this chapter and read the end notes for a summary.

A few hours later, once the sun begins to sink below the windowsill and turn the room orange, the front door slams shut.

I can't see him from where I'm curled up in the cramped space between the sofa and the wall, crying and sniffling into my hands, but I can tell it's Merle just by the weight of his footsteps and the sound of him dumping his keys on the kitchen counter. He calls out for me — "Harley? Why's the door unlocked?" — but I keep my mouth shut, 'cause I know he's gonna find me, anyway.

His boots appear in my line of sight, stopping before he sighs to himself. "Aw, shit."

As he crouches down in front of me, I rub the wetness from my eyes and bravely meet his gaze. He always hates it when I cry, but he especially hates it when I don't look him in the eye. It's one of the many, random things he finds disrespectful.

"What's wrong?" He asks, lookin' more confused than anything. "C'mon, cry-baby. What happened?"

"There was a man in here," I whisper, watching his expression turn to stone.

"Like Hell there was."

"He had keys," I continue frantically. "I wasn't gonna let him in, I swear. He said his name was Philip and—"

"Of course it was fuckin' Philip."

"—And he said he was gonna cut Daddy's th-throat open if I didn't tell him where our group is," I exclaim.

"And did ya?"

"I ain't told him shit, but he said he'd be back!"

While I was sitting here, waiting for Merle to return, I thought about climbing out the window or leaving through the front door to go and help Dad and Glenn, but I'll admit it. I got scared, and this hiding spot seemed a lot more appealing than out there.

He pins me with a meaningful look. "Ya say he only talked to ya?"

"Uh-huh," I sniffle, nodding.

"He ain't done nothin' else?"

I shake my head, tears quickly gathering in my eyes again. "He said he'd cut his throat open, Merle! I'm worried about 'em!"

As soon as the words come outta my mouth, I catch him trying not to roll his eyes. "Girl, I left you with a box of snacks and all the movies a kid could ever want, and now you're all upset? Come on, now. You ain't already know what was gonna happen?"

I knew we weren't gonna be popular here, but I ain't thought anybody would get they throat cut!

Glaring at him, I ask, "What, and you did?"

"Jesus." He looks down at his boots, chewing on his cheek before he meets my gaze again. "Yeah, I knew, okay?"

"And you let—?"

"I told you. My hands are tied," He explains, lowering his voice. "I ain't the golden child that makes all the decisions here. But like I said, I went to see yer Dad. And for yer information, yer Uncle Merle's the only reason he's got food and water right now."

Oh. Great. Dad's gonna get murdered in a cellar, but at least he's got food and water.

He adds, "I ain't yer enemy, here, alright?"

"He don't need food and water," I say, offended he thinks that's what any of us want. "We need to go home!"

"Wanna tell me where that is, then? End all'a this?"

That shuts me up.

Conflicted, I stare him down, knowing I won't say it. Despite everything, I can't. I know it'd be the wrong thing to do.

"Okay." He grins sarcastically. "So, we're gonna go with my plan, then. Good to know."

"What is your plan?"

"To not let ya Daddy get killed. So, get up," He reaches out for me, grabbing my arm and forcing me to my feet. "He's refusin' to say anythin' until we prove you're alright, so now we gotta take a lil' field trip back down to the blocks together. Let's go."

I gasp as he drags me over to the front door. "I get to see Dad?" 

"He's holdin' a guard at gunpoint as we speak, so, yeah. They're takin' him serious."

As he grabs his keys, I ask, "Was you there when he did that?"

"Nah. I just talked to him a lil' bit a few hours ago. Was out by the gates when they told me to come get ya."

"Wait."

I suddenly come to a stop, diggin' my heels into the carpet so he can't drag me any further.

He turns to look at me. "What?"

Feeling proud of myself, I decide, "I'm only lettin' ya take me to see Dad if you promise to let Glenn see a doctor."

If Dad's allowed to threaten people to get what he wants, so do I.

"Like I can't just throw ya over my shoulder, anyway," He jokes. "Ya weigh about as much as a tin of beans."

"I'll kick and scream the whole way," I warn him, and I'm dead serious.

Merle considers me for a moment, before he sighs in defeat and pulls the door open. "Fine."

"Yes!"

"Let's go."

The five-minute walk from Merle's apartment to the abandoned building leaves me with just enough time for my anxiety to settle back into my bones, though I guess it never really left, always a firm sediment permanently fixed to the bottom of my stomach.

My palms begin to sweat as we approach the cellar doors, feeling like I'm about to jump off a tall building.

When Merle knocks on them, they're opened from the other side by an angry-lookin' man who gestures for us to enter.

Oh, man, I think to myself as we descend the concrete steps, our movements echoing loudly off the walls, It's cold down here. The light slips away as the doors close behind us, reminding me of the hundreds of tunnels in the depths of the prison, where even the sun and the fresh air can't reach. I feel a chill creep up my skin as I huddle closer behind Merle, afraid of the guards' lingering gazes.

"Bring her in here," Dad's distant voice echoes. "Bring her in here right now, or this bastard loses his brains!"

I think of Merle's apartment as we make our way down the long corridor.

It's strange to think that he lives just around the corner from this nightmare, as if the flower beds let him forget about it.

"They're comin'!" A guard shouts back at Dad. "Don't shoot!"

With each door we pass, I wonder, Is that the one?

Until we come to a stop at the very last door, and Merle gives a meaningful look to the guard standing outside it. This is it.

"So, you're that psycho's daughter," The stranger muses to himself in distaste, before he grabs the doorknob and pushes it open.

The very first thing I see is my Dad standing in the middle of the room, holding a man to his chest with a gun to his head. His whole body tenses, posturing himself for a fight, fingers clenching around the grip, before he realizes that it's just me.

"Harley," He exhales with his whole chest and throws the gun to the ground, running up to me.

I wrap my arms around him as the guard makes a noise of relief, snatching up his gun and scrambling outta the room.

The door slams shut behind him.

"Harley," He says again, pulling back and cupping my face in his dirty hands. "Fuck. Them bastards told me they—..."

"I'm alright," I assure him with a shake of my head, but I ain't as relieved as he is, not even enough to return the small smile on his lips, the tender, beaten expression on his face. He's— He looks worse than he ever has. His nose is bent the wrong way like it belongs to a different person, leaking fresh blood onto the already dried, tacky blood caked onto his upper lip. It tracks lines back up his pinkened cheeks, looking like reverse tears, pooling into his hairline as if they had him hanging upside down. "A-are you okay?"

Remembering what the scary man said, I check his neck. There's no slice or mark from a blade, but there are colorful bruises blooming in a line over his Adam's apple that look a bit like the milky way galaxy. It's awful. I think he must've been strangled. 

"Don't worry about me," He croaks, touching his fingers to the browned, purple skin. "It's nothin'."

"Daddy, I don't like this anymore," I desperately confess. "At first, I thought it was gonna be okay because Merle was with us, and he said they was only gonna question ya, but now they're sayin' they gonna kill ya, and we can't go hom—"

"Shh," He croons. "Shhhh, no, no, no."

Gently, he leads me over to the blanket crumpled up against the wall, sitting down on it and setting me in his lap.

"Shh. No more of that," He whispers, leaning his chin on the top of my head, too weak to talk any louder. "You been at Merle's?"

Yeah. Let's talk about something else.

Staring at a stain on the floor, I answer, "We talked and he left for a while, so I watched a movie."

His chest rumbles beneath me as he chuckles, his breath warm on my scalp, before I feel him shudder, sniffle.

Oh. I realize he's crying quietly to himself.

"Movie, huh?" He eventually murmurs, his voice thin and shaky. "That's real good. That's good, baby. Which one?"

Whatever they told Dad they was doing to me, it must've been bad. It might've even been that they was cuttin' my throat open, because if I heard that Dad was had only been watching movies this whole time, I'd be just as relieved. But it ain't true.

Ignoring the bruises on his arm, I say, "Somethin' with a lotta gun fights."

"It weren't that corny one with the robot-soldiers he always liked, was it?"

"I think it was."

"Well, that's worse'un anythin' they been puttin' me through," He jokes, sniffing wetly. His breath hitches before he groans and coughs something thick and red onto the floor. I feel his muscles loosen as he sighs heavily. "Used to hate it when he put that shit on."

A fat, white tooth sits in the middle of the puddle of blood like a pearl.

"He got cartoons, too," I add, hoping he finds it a little bit funny. "Got a whole bunch of 'em."

"Remind me to bring that up later, huh?"

"Shit!"

I flinch.

At the sound of Glenn's muffled cry coming from the other side of the wall, I straighten, calling out, "Glenn?"

"Harley?" He shouts back, panicked. "Oh, my G— You animals! Let her go!"

"She's with me," Dad cuts him off sternly. "She's alright."

"Oh. Oh, thank God. Are you guys safe?"

"There's nobody else in here wit'us, if that's what'chu mean."

I hear a door slam shut.

"What's that?" Dad asks him. "You alone, too?"

"It was some guy," He groans, and I imagine him sitting with his back against Dad's, with only the wall to separate us from each other and it makes me feel a little better. "He wrapped gauze around my thigh and gave me some pills. Hope it wasn't poison."

"I threatened Merle on the way here, Glenn," I proudly tell him. "He promised me he'd let you see a doctor."

"He didn't look like any doctor I've ever seen," He jokes. "But thank you, Harley. That was kind."

"Smart," Dad agrees fondly. "Guess I'm sorry I ain't thought of it."

"It's alright, man," Glenn says. "If it was me who had that guard at gunpoint, I would've asked to see Harley, too."

I ask, "It still hurt?"

"Uh. No. No, don't worry." It's easy to tell he's lying. "I feel better already."

"We gotta get the fuck outta here," Dad grumbles lowly because he can tell, too, but nobody says anything else after that.

It's a little difficult with all the gray, concrete walls and the single lightbulb hanging down from the ceiling by a thin, red wire, but I imagine I'm in the forest. Any forest. It's where I'd be all the time if I could. I'm in the forest and I can see the sky, clear and blue above me, reminding me that I have nothing to worry about because maybe I'm a leaf on a bush or a thorny flower, blowing softly in the breeze. 

I can't picture the smaller details, but that's alright. All that matters is that I can see the sky.

The forest blows away like sand in the wind when the door opens.

Lifting my head from my Dad's shoulder, I blink away the grogginess that sticks behind my eyes, adjusting to the dim light of the room. I must've fallen asleep, dreaming about clouds. I think for a moment that I'm in my old bedroom again, curled up in Dad's lap after he drifted off while reading me a bed time story, but I'm quickly reminded of where I am when Philip's voice fills the room.

"I almost thought you were a total monster," He says as I turn to look at him. "But you're just a Dad."

He slowly stalks into the room, smiling nicely as a guard follows him in and closes the door.

"There's always two sides to a person." He comes to a stop just a few feet from us. "She looks just like you. I didn't notice until now."

Dad's fingers curl tighter around me, glaring up at the man through his brows, saying nothing.

"Hm?" Philip chirps with a little shrug. "What's the matter, Daryl? Not in the mood to spit on my face again?"

"I will be," He rasps lowly, "Once y'all take Harley back to my brother's."

"Back to your brother's? I think I remember you threatening to kill one of my men unless we brought her in here." His smile grows into a friendly grin, flashing his perfectly clean teeth at us. His hair, gray and healthy, hangs down in the shapes of crescent moons against his temples, like it's come loose in a fight — The only imperfection to his neat appearance. "She can stay. Tell me, how old is she?"

"Take Harley back to my brother's," Dad warns him again, voice dropping into a growl.

"I'd say she looks eight. Maybe nine," Philip guesses. "You know, that's around my daughter's age."

Slowly, my Dad stands up, matching the man's height. "This ain't got nothin' to do with her. You got a kid, you'll understand."

"I've also got a town to keep safe. If you were a leader, you'd understand." He retorts calmly, nodding to the table. "Now, sit."

The guard leaning against the wall smirks at us.

Breathing harshly, nostrils flared, Dad glances down at me. We have to do as he says. Realizing this, he grabs my hand and we carefully make our way over to the round table in the middle of the room, the glow of the light bulb lending it a soft, yellow hue. 

I sit down in the closest chair, Dad taking the one opposite mine as Philip takes up the head of the table.

As we sit together in an uncomfortable silence, I notice I was wrong.

Philip's unkempt hair is far from his only imperfection — I just had to see him under a better light for them to make themselves known, like noticing a scuff on a window only when the sun hits it, or peeling back a bandage to reveal a hideous wound. I begin to squirm anxiously, unable to take my eyes off him. His forearms are littered with tiny droplets of blood, red freckles against the beige of his clean skin, a large splotch smeared over the glass of his expensive watch, still tick, tick, ticking away with each second that passes.

Strangely, his tie is still perfectly straight.

"Let me tell you this, Daryl." He doesn't take his eyes off Dad, and Dad doesn't take his eyes off him, matching his cool gaze with an impossibly hot, angry one. If he could, he'd tackle this man to the ground. Philip leans back in his chair, looking like he enjoys Dad's obvious struggle. "I don't want to hurt your daughter. I've done a lot of things for this town, but hurting children isn't one of them."

"Daryl?" Glenn shouts from the other room, earning only silence. "Daryl, is Harley still in there?"

"But if you make me hurt her," He continues cooly, "I won't have any problems with that."

Glancing down, I watch Dad's knuckles turn white as he claws anxiously at his thighs.

"Harley, can you hear me? Are you okay?"

"Like I said." His smile turns smug. "There's always two sides to a person."

"Harley?"

I want to answer Glenn, but I'm scared that if I do, it might make Philip angry. I can't make Philip angry.

"I already told you when you was beatin' my face in earlier," Dad mutters angrily. "They cut us loose months ago."

"No, that story's not gonna cut it anymore," Philip sighs in frustration. "Your brother told me he had a chat with your daughter and that she said your group is probably worried about where you've been all day. How can those two things be true at once?"

I see the breath leave Dad's body, defeat taking over his expression. Oh, no. I messed up. I messed it all up.

"You know kids. They never lie."

When Philip looks at me, my whole body stiffens.

I ruined Dad's story. I—I didn't mean to give anything away, I swear. I didn't even know I was giving anything away when I was talking to my Uncle Merle. Stupid, stupid, stupid girl. How could I have not realized he and Glenn were probably gonna lie?

"So, now that we've got that out in the open — Here's how this is gonna go."

Dad won't look at me, but I wish he would so that he could see I'm sorry.

"I'm going to ask you three times where your people are." Philip leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. "The first two times, you're going to tell me to go fuck myself, or to go to Hell, or what-not. But the third time, you're going to tell me."

I flinch as a dull thud comes from the other side of the wall, Glenn crying out in pain.

Philip doesn't flinch at all. "Where are your people?"

Shaking his head in disgust, my Dad lets out a weak, sarcastic chuckle. "Go fuck yourself. My daughter doesn't need to be here."

Nodding, Philip simply asks again, "Where are your people?"

Glenn cries out again in the silence that follows, and again, and again, the blunt sounds of a fist coming down on his body making me flinch each time as if I'm the one being hit. It's such an awful thing to listen to, but Dad's refusing to fill the silence and Philip seems more than happy to let us stew in it. I feel like I've been tied to this chair, unable to move, but it's just his presence that's keeping me down.

"Okay," Philip mutters after a minute or two, taking a deep breath, and reaching for his holster.

My Dad's eyes go wide, and that's the last thing that happens before Philip's pointing a gun at my head. My blood runs cold. Oh. I stare into the barrel. It's a single, black eye staring straight into mine, a slender finger resting on the trigger.

Don't move, Harley, I tell myself, even though my hands are shaking, And it'll be okay.

"This will be the last time," He says. "Where are your people?"

Squeezing my eyes shut, a tear slips down my cheek.

When I open them again, my Dad is looking at me. I don't think I've ever seen him look this scared, not even when our house got robbed when I was seven, or when Merle sniffed all that powder and broke a window, or when Tank got injured. He's never scared. If I could tell ya one thing about my Dad, it's that. He's the bravest, toughest person I know, who right now, looks absolutely terrified.

He's gonna tell him, I think, already mourning the moment he does. He's gonna tell him.

Sniffling, swallowing down whimpers, I hope he can tell that I won't be angry at him for it. Rick wouldn't be, neither.

"Meriweather County prison."

A hiccup escapes me. My chest violently shudders, filled with heavy dread. He told him.

None of us are safe, anymore. Not even Judith. We're— We're gonna have to move, or hide,— O-or maybe we can't do anything. Maybe when they come and take everything we own and all the people I love are dead, I'll think of this moment.

"That's where they are," He adds, quiet, ashamed.

Philip's smile returns.

"Look at that. I could just get him to do anything like this, couldn't I, Harley?" He chuckles, but I just can't stop crying, not even if I hold my breath like my Daddy taught me how, or if I imagine something nice, something that isn't a gun pointed at my head, or my Dad's bruised face, or the guard standing in the corner, watching this play out. "Your big, strong Dad. Have you ever seen him dance?"

"Just stop," I beg him. "Ya wanted to know where our group was, and he— he told ya. Just s-stop."

"C'mon, Daryl." He grins at him, ignoring me. "Stand up. Give us a little dance while you're feeling so compliant."

My Dad reluctantly rises from his seat, and I wish I didn't have to watch. I want to tell him, it's alright, because that's what he would tell me. This whole thing is almost over. Just do as he says. After standing there for a moment, embarrassed, looking at the floor, he starts to awkwardly do the hustle. The sound of his boots shuffling against the floor fills the room and somehow it's crueller than watching him be punched or kicked or strangled because at least then, I could see the thing that's being broken and it would be dignified.

Philip's chuckling to himself, enjoying the show. I feel the overwhelming urge to ask him what the Hell is wrong with him.

"It's like being at one of my daughter's ballet recitals all over again," He laughs. "I'd like to see a spin, Daryl."

Glancing at the gun again, my Dad defeatedly spins in a circle, his expression twisted up in shame.

I think he wishes I didn't have to watch, too.

When he comes to a stop, Philip's laughter dies out, smile lingering like a thin ripple after a tall wave.

He looks at me. "I want you to remember this the next time he says he can protect you. Will you do that for me?"

"I hate you," I seethe through my tears.

"Harley," Dad hisses in desperation, his eyes darting between me and Philip. "Harley, shut the fuck up."

"I hate you."

"Well, that's not nice," Philip croons. I hate him so much. No, I will not remember this the next time Dad says he can protect me. My Dad is brave. He's tough. That ain't gonna change just 'cause this bully humiliates him while he hides behind his gun, too much of a pussy to pick on somebody his own size. I hate, hate, hate him. "'If you don't have anything nice to say'... You know how it goes."

"You're a bully," I spit, feeling the anger simmer up into my face. "You're a crazy, stupid bully and you should die."

"Harley," Dad warns me again. "Harley, baby, please."

"You gonna shoot me like y'all shot my friend, Glenn? Huh?"

"When I shoot you, I won't be doing anything your Dad hasn't already," He tells me. "You're forgetting why you're here."

"We're here 'cause my Dad shot some feller who was tryna kill us!" I shout at him, ignoring the way my Dad keeps begging me to, shut up, Harley. Please, shut up. "And you told me you ain't even liked him, so you can shut the fuck up about it!"

"Are you done?"

"Just leave us the Hell alone, already!" I squeal, furious, panting. "I just— We just— We wanna go h-home."

Whenever I shouted at my Dad or Uncle Merle like this, I'd forget about myself right up until my anger bubbled down and the room went quiet, my heartbeat drumming against my skull the only thing I could hear. Then, everything would become clear to me again, and the anger quickly cooled like a red metal being dunked in a bucket of water, hardening into fear. We would stare each other down for a minute or two, huffing and puffing like offended bulls in a fighting ring until one of us snapped — And it was never me. 

Here, now, Philip doesn't reach for his belt, pull it from its loops, whip it over the backs of my thighs. He doesn't grab me by the ear and bring my face close to his, lecturing me on manners while I nod for every word he says.

All he does is ask one last time, his voice as calm and smooth as a glass lake, "Are you done?"

Gulping, I glance around the room, as if to check it's still the same as it was before I lost my temper.

"You got what'chu wanted," My Dad reminds him. "I did what'chu asked. You know you ain't got no issues with my daughter."

"I do have issues with little potty-mouthed girls who can't hold their tongue," He says, raising a brow at me.

Usually, this is where I'd start babbling, Please, I didn't mean it. I was just angry. But I'm still angry. And I did mean it.

Stubbornly, I say nothing.

"Okay. Harley," He says, light as a feather. "Come and give me an apology kiss, and it'll all be forgiven."

I almost falter.

That's what he wants?

I can't stop myself from mumbling, "What?"

"You heard me."

That's right. I did hear him. A kiss?

Like what Glenn and Maggie do, because they're boyfriend-girlfriend? And Rick and Lori, because they're husband-wife?

Is-is he—? "Are you serious?"

"I don't think you should ever ask that question to a man with a gun to your head," He says smugly. Yes, he's serious.

For some reason, I glance at my Dad to get permission from him, because he'll put me in time-out for giving Philip a kiss without his say-so. It's one of them things I don't need to know all the logistics of to know — to feel — that it's wrong, but he don't look angry with me, even though he and Merle have always told me I ain't allowed to kiss a boy until I was eighteen. He just looks broken.

Looking back at Philip and the expectant look on his face, I force myself to stand from my chair.

It scr-cr-crapes painfully against the floor before I'm on my feet, creeping around the table as he keeps the gun trained on me.

Every step feels like a stride through a minefield, careful, terrifying, bracing myself for the gun to go off if I make the wrong move.

When I come to a stop in front of him, the tear clinging to my jaw slips onto my shirt, soaking through the fabric, onto my skin. It's warm. I think I hear Dad seething something under his breath as Philip leans forward and his nose almost grazes mine.

A kiss. That could also mean the type of kiss my Dad or Maggie or Carol or Lori gives me, right?

A kiss on the cheek?

"You know, in my family," He says, tapping the gun against my lips. "We used to kiss on the mouth. Must be an Italian thing."

I shy away from the cold metal, turning my head to the side as if it's a spoonful of broccoli I don't want anywhere near me. His breath is hot, fanning gently across my chin. The smell of sweat and shampoo mingles together into a thick, poisonous gas and I quicken my breathing, short and shallow pants escaping me just to stop it from entering my lungs, to make it feel a little less real.

"C'mon." He says quieter, looking at me, the little fish he knows he's got on the hook. "Aren't you sorry?"

Glancing down at his mouth — Yes. Yes, I am sorry. I'm sorry I said those things aloud.

Dad tries to talk to me like I'm the only other person in the room — "Harley Dixon, look at me," — but the guard cocks his gun.

I have to do it.

It'll only take one second.

Everything that happens in this room will stay in this room and I'll forget all about it once we're back home.

I kiss Philip on the mouth. It's quick. It's barely there. It's like I'm kissing a hot coal and I don't want to burn myself, and I'm flinching backwards, trying to will away the warm sensation on my mouth as Philip smiles, pleased. I'm gross. I'm so gross.

"That wasn't so hard." I can feel his gravelly voice all over me. I want to go home. "All's forgiven."

"You're sick," My Dad grits through his teeth, tears brimming on his lashes. "A sick motherfucker. Somethin' real wrong with you."

Unbothered, Philip stands from his chair. "I'll leave you to figure out what that is, then." 

"I wanna talk to my brother."

"See you later, Daryl."

When he and the guard leave the room and the door slams shut in our faces, a piece of me leaves with them.

Author's Notes.

— SUMMARY: A few hours after the ending of the previous chapter, Daryl is refusing to reveal any information until it can be proven to him that Harley is alright. Merle brings Harley to the blocks and she is locked in Daryl's cell with him until the Governor arrives to interrogate them.

Daryl reveals the group's location when he puts a gun to Harley's head. She gets emotional and cusses the Governor out, prompting him to force her to kiss him on the mouth as an apology.

Should I start this off by saying I'm sorry?! 😭 I'm sorry!

This was messed up. I felt very uncomfortable writing this, but I needed a traumatic event to happen to Harley while they were in Woodbury. It's part of my plan for her and Daryl's arcs this season. I hate when media throws sexual assault around as a key point in a female character's story but I just had a problem with the Governor physically torturing Harley. I feel like this is more realistic.

And don't worry about Merle. He wouldn't have let this happen if he wasn't also being threatened.

Let me know what you thought! See you next time! :)

@poetoflawed