#i hate mowing lawns anyway!

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

I hate being dependent on others for a lawnmower!

In short, Mom’s lawnmower broke the day she had her stroke. I couldn’t fix it or afford a replacement, so I cut grass with a swing blade. Then, miraculously, someone felt sorry for me and gave me their old lawnmower. This was wonderful…until the gas tank fell off! So, I was back to something I couldn’t fix or replace, BUT this time I had someone that was happy to loan me a lawnmower now and then….

All was good until now.

I have spent a month completely preoccupied with moving stuff around inside the house to meet my brother’s requirements, so mowing the lawn hadn’t crossed my mind. I don’t care if grass is tall. I’m someone that loves yards, but hates lawns.

But, after six months not mowing the yard I had to admit it was getting so people might start assuming no one lived there. I needed to cut the grass before either someone broke in or some grumpy gus complained to the town.

Unfortunately the friend with all the mowers has a hectic life full of drama. I eventually arranged a day to borrow the mower, but when the day came they had an emergency. I told them not to worry about the mower, and went and fed their cat.

Not knowing what was going on with them I didn’t think I should pester them about the mower, so I thought I’d wait to see how things were with them.

Since the grass was knee high next to the road (stupid ditch. It doesn’t drain the water, flooding the street, because the town stopped maintaining it BUT it sure feeds the plants!) and I didn’t know if I would be waiting weeks to get the mower, I decided to use the swing blade.

Do you have any idea how exhausting that gets? Hours of hacking at it and hacking at it. I tried to imagine I was a warrior smashing her enemies skulls and NOT someone aggressively practicing their golf swing. (Sports are soooo boring!)

I got home having done a lot of the yard, having been forcibly stopped by the neighbor dogs wanting petting. (Can’t swing a blade with them around!) What do I get as I flop exhausted? A message saying, “Hey, I thought you were going to borrow the mower today?” No idea why she assumed that. She hadn’t told me I could borrow it, or even spoke to me since they day I couldn’t borrow it, and I hadn’t asked.

So I told her what I’d been up to. She said not to do the rest the next day, but just wait until Saturday and we could do it together with her mowers in the morning.

This was a relief, saving me hours of swinging! She is a morning person and I am not (oh boy I am NOT), but since she is the one doing the loaning and has a strong sensitivity to the sun I was fine with that. I just asked her to let me know how early. To take care of the animals first, I said, but mostly to set an alarm.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

I got up early today, Saturday, anyway. I rushed about, got all ready to go to work, and….

Waited.

Emergency? Forgetfulness? Phone trouble? Misunderstanding?

And I waited.

It was cool, and with the weather changing so after today it is going to be hot, I REALLY wanted to work on the yard. I could go and use the swing blade to finish up the side yard….

But my luck she would be ready to go as soon as I finished. I don’t want to batter my bad elbow when I don’t have to, and getting a loan of the mower as soon as I finish would be a total waste.

Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

Waiting dies NOT agree with me. I have stuff to do! And I don’t want to get interrupted if I start something. Gotta find small busy work…

Waiting.

I swear, I REALLY need a mower! I am seriously considering one of those muscle powered, no gas (can’t afford gas!), push mowers. Trouble is the cheapest one costs exactly the same as the boots I have to wear (only thing my ankle braces work with), and this just at the time I have buy new boots!

Boots or a mower. Mower or boots. Boots or a mower. Mower or….

Waiting.

[bubblegumbi-tch]

idk if anyone else has seen those videos of americans just going about mowing random people's lawns often without asking and thinking they're helping out but....they're my biggest pet peeve at this present time.

[teja-has-puppet-autism]

just mowed 3 stripes of the lawn and am down n out with heat sick + pinprick pain someone tell me what a good creature I am XD

[witchywithwhiskey]

the alpha next door

pairing: alpha!steve rogers x omega!female reader

summary: you and your neighbor are harboring feelings for each other, but both of you think the other is too sweet. then, things take a turn when your first heat since moving in hits, revealing the depth of your feelings for the alpha next door—and his for you.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), omegaverse AU tropes (heats, knots, purring, mating, scenting), piv sex, breeding kink/pregnancy kink (reader's on birth control tho), accidental voyeurism, masturbation (m + f), dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, little bit of mommy kink, size kink, pet names (baby), mutual pining, idiots in love, dual pov

word count: 8.9k

a/n: here's my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420's Cum Together Extravaganza!!! i used the A/B/O AU and breeding kink prompts—and this is my very first omegaverse fic!!! so uhhh please be kind because i don't know what i'm doing 😅 also loosely inspired by "too sweet" by hozier!! anyway, this ended up a lot longer than i thought it would be....whoops!! hope y'all enjoy!!!

When you first moved into the little pink cottage next door, Steve Rogers decided that you were too sweet for an ex-soldier alpha like him. An omega like you was filled with sunshine and gentleness, and you deserved an alpha who would treat you like the precious thing you were. 

The kindest thing Steve could do for you was stay away. The thoughts you inspired in his alpha hindbrain had him hating the rough and greedy animal side of himself. He wanted to dig his fingers into your plush hips and bend you over, make you present your pretty little body in the way the alpha in him craved. 

But he reminded himself you were too sweet. Too sweet for the obscene thoughts that plagued his mind. Too sweet to be defiled by a big alpha like him. Too sweet to be swollen and round and glowing because you were carrying his child…

Still, you were his neighbor and Steve couldn’t avoid you entirely, even though everything he saw only reaffirmed his belief that you were too good for him. 

The little pink cottage beside his house had come with a front garden filled with pink roses and all manner of other pink flowers that Steve couldn’t even begin to name, but you tended to them like you’d planted them yourself. Steve would get home from work, park his truck in his driveway—which had a perfect view of your front garden. He’d watch you from behind his tinted windows as you took care of your flowers, looking like a garden fairy come to life.

When Steve eventually grew uncomfortable with how long he’d been watching you, he would get out of his truck and call a gruff hello to you as he made his way inside. Your melodic voice returning his greeting would follow him into his house, where he’d close his door and lean against it, panting like he’d just escaped a warzone while his cock strained against his jeans. But Steve wouldn’t stoop to jerking himself off to the thought of you—at least not while you were just outside. 

On weekends, Steve would work in his backyard, mowing the grass and tending to the shrubs that ran along the line separating his property from yours. When the weather was nice and pleasantly warm, you would sit out on your small back porch, curled up in a wicker chair reading some book or another.

Steve would offer to mow your lawn, just for an excuse to stay outside longer, and be a little bit closer to you. You’d let him, and thank him for his efforts by giving him some ice cold lemonade, smiling up at him while he drank it. Steve wasn’t the least bit surprised the lemonade was more sweet than tart. 

As the weeks and months passed since you’d moved in, Steve couldn’t help but feel his desire for you growing, becoming a living thing curling around his heart, making it beat for you. You were the sweetest and prettiest omega he’d ever met, and he’d be lucky to be your alpha, but he kept his distance, certain you could do better than him.

That is, until your first heat after moving in next door changed everything.

That was when Steve learned you were far more than the innocent little omega he’d determined you to be—you were a creature of sex and desire, made to take an alpha’s knot and be pumped full of come in the hopes that their seed would take root in your womb. When your heat hit fully, your keening wails echoed from your cottage, and they were a siren song that called directly to Steve’s alpha heart.

But he kept himself away. After all, there were polite ways of going about these things, and he’d never even asked you out on a date, so he certainly wasn’t going to assume you wanted his help to get you through your heat. Besides, you hadn’t asked for him to join you, anyway.

That didn’t stop Steve from keeping an eye on you, though.

He’d noticed the slight change in your scent a few days before your heat truly set in, his cock reacting even more to your perfect omega body than normal. Steve felt like he was walking around with a constant bulge in his pants after getting a single whiff of your scent, but he ignored the niggling feeling telling him he needed to be close to you and did his best to hide his reaction. He knew you had other things to worry about than the comfort of the alpha next door. 

Even though something in him compelled him to go to you, Steve couldn’t bring himself to walk over to your cottage. It occurred to him that even if you didn’t want him to help you through your heat, he could offer to go to the store to get the food and provisions you’d need. But he didn’t. He was worried about what he’d do if he looked into your home and saw your nest and smelled your sweet perfume. 

So Steve kept his distance, watching you from his truck and the windows of his house as you brought home a week’s worth of provisions—protein bars and sports drinks that would keep you nourished enough to make it through your heat. Steve wished he could carry the heavy-looking bags into your home, but his cock was pitching a tent in his sweatpants, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with the way his alpha body reacted to your omega scent. 

Finally, as your heat drew closer, you locked up your cottage, closing all the windows and drawing all the curtains. Steve couldn’t help but notice, though, that you left the skylight in your bedroom cracked open a tiny bit. Steve’s alpha hindbrain itched at the thought that you’d only left it open because you couldn’t close it yourself, and he had to hold himself back from going over to your cottage to offer to close it.

Steve knew omegas liked to keep their nests dark and warm and locked up tight. They wanted to keep all the scents created during a heat trapped in their nest, at least until their heat broke. So it was curious that you’d left the skylight open, even a little bit. 

But when your heat hit in earnest that evening, your pitiful whimpers and desperate moans filtering through the open window and directly to Steve’s ears—through the window of his bedroom that he’d thrown open the moment he’d heard you—he forgot about what omegas typically wanted. Instead, all the blood in his body rushed to his cock, making him harder than he’d ever been in his life. 

Steve stood at the window of his bedroom, which overlooked your cottage, his eyes glazing over as he listened to you pant and whine and cry out for an alpha that wasn’t coming. Because of course Steve had noticed that no alpha had arrived to help you through your heat. He assumed you were using any number of the toys that were sold precisely to help unmated omegas get through their heats without an alpha’s help. 

But it meant you were alone, in your nest, riding out your heat on some silicone knot. That thought nearly made Steve storm from his house and barge into your cottage to demand you let him help you, but he reminded himself you were too sweet, too sweet, too sweet for him. So instead, he fisted his cock and listened to your raspy pleas fill the night sky.

“Need your knot, alpha, oh god, please,” you babbled, your voice beautifully melodic to Steve even when you were desperately begging for something he knew he shouldn’t give you. “Fill me up, daddy, I need it—need your knot, alpha—daddy, daddy, alpha, please, please, please!” Your moans grew louder and Steve could only imagine the thick silicone knot that was filling you up the way he should be filling you.

One of Steve’s hands gripped the frame of his window tightly, using the feel of the wood digging into his palm to keep himself grounded as he physically fought with his alpha instincts. He wanted to break into your cottage and rip your toys away from you so he could help you through your heat. Like he was meant to. It should be him inside you, sinking into your warm, welcoming cunt while you looked up at him with those beautiful eyes of yours.

Steve’s other hand gripped his cock, pumping his hard, stiff length with a fist so tight, it was nearly punishing. It helped a little, but his fist was a far cry from your perfect cunt, which would be gushing with wetness and so hot, Steve would feel like he was sinking into heaven and hell at the same time. And when he came, it wouldn’t be anywhere near as satisfying as emptying his balls right against your cervix, pumping your womb full of his seed while knot locked your bodies together so it would be almost certain he’d knock you up. 

That is, if you weren’t on birth control. Which most unmated omegas were, Steve reminded himself.

Still, the alpha in him was a beast barely caged—he wanted to breed you. 

Steve wanted to see you impaled on his cock and his knot, so bloated from how full you were with his come that he could see it in the way your belly bulged, giving a preview of what you’d look like growing with his child. He wanted to knock you up, he wanted to see you swollen and round with his pup. 

He wanted to keep fucking you even as you carried his child, watching you bounce on his knot, your tits swollen with milk and your belly big and round while he tried to fill your womb with another before you’d even popped out the first. Steve wanted to keep you pregnant all the time, your pretty little omega body always ripe and swollen with his pups, taking his knot and his come every moment of the day so he could make sure you were always glowing with the radiance of motherhood.

It was that image of you—beautiful and knocked up, your eyes hazy with pleasure that came only from being impaled on his cock, and being locked on his knot—that made Steve come. 

He grunted as the pleasure of his fist and his thoughts of you finally became too much, wrapping both his hands around his thick length, one squeezing his knot while the other pumped the rest of his shaft. His come erupted from the tip, streaming over the windowsill and dripping down to his bare feet on the wooden floor of his bedroom.

A growl tore from Steve’s lips while he came, a deep, dark part of his alpha hindbrain responding furiously to the fact that he was wasting his seed. He should be emptying his balls deep in your fertile cunt while your slick walls gripped his knot and milked every drop of his seed into your womb, where it belonged. 

Steve’s release seemed to last for ages, longer than he’d ever experienced before, and if it wasn’t for the fact that his head finally started to clear when it abated, he would’ve been worried he’d gone into rut. But finally, Steve surfaced from the depths of his pleasure, and winced when he remembered the thoughts that had made him come.

Steve was appalled by the direction in which his imagination had gone, and felt guilty for imagining you in such a state as pregnant and bouncing on his cock—even as the reminder made his cock leak one last spurt of his release. Cursing and castigating himself, Steve moved away from the window to clean himself up and wipe down the spot where he’d been standing. 

The entire time he was cleaning up after himself, Steve felt off-balance. He’d never felt such a pull toward an omega before you, and he’d never been so close to going into rut just from listening to an omega whimper and moan. If he didn’t know better, he would think you were his mate—the one omega in the whole world who was perfect for him. 

But Steve pushed that thought aside and reminded himself you were too sweet for an alpha like him. You might’ve sounded desperate and needy while you suffered through your heat alone, but you deserved better than an alpha who could think of nothing else besides pumping you full of come and knocking you up with his child.

Steve felt disturbed all over again when he thought of the vivid, obscene things he’d imagined while he’d jerked himself off. He’d never been the type of alpha to get off on the idea of breeding, let alone pictured anyone swollen with his kid while they were impaled on his cock. Steve felt so far out of his depth, he swiped his clean hand down his face to try to regain the equilibrium that had been shattered by your pretty omega sounds.

Thankfully, you’d gone blessedly quiet at some point when Steve had been coming all over his windowsill. He tossed the rag he’d used to clean up his mess into the laundry and flopped down on his bed, knowing he wouldn’t be getting any rest that night. It was a good thing he’d called out of work on heat leave.

Even as Steve lay in his bed, the refrain that you were too sweet for him repeating in his mind, he couldn’t help hoping that you were getting some much-needed rest. He’d never been one to worry over much about whether someone was sleeping or eating, but he wondered if you’d had a protein bar and drank a sports drink before falling asleep. He knew you needed to keep up your strength if you’d make it through your heat. 

His thoughts spinning around in his mind, Steve fell into a light, fitful sleep, his alpha hindbrain remaining alert and attuned to the sounds coming from your cottage. Little did he know, it wouldn’t be long before everything would change. Something would happen that would force Steve to finally give in to the connection between him and the omega next door.

When you woke on the second morning of your heat, it was to a burning need cutting through your core, urging you to roll onto your knees and sink down on the silicone knot toy that had slipped from your pussy while you slept. Unbidden, the face of the alpha next door, Steve Rogers, popped into your mind and you sobbed through another wave of aching desire, wishing desperately that he was with you to help you through your heat.

You hadn’t met the alpha until after you’d moved into the little pink cottage next door to his much larger home, and you were instantly smitten with the former soldier. He was big—so much bigger than you—with broad shoulders and bulging biceps that were barely hidden beneath the tight t-shirts he always seemed to wear. But it was Steve’s thighs that were always so distracting to you, so thick they made you want to ride them until your slick was drenching his jeans.

A pitiful moan fell from your lips as you reached between your thighs, grasping blindly for the toy you’d discarded in your sleep. With your face still shoved into a pillow and sleep still clinging to the edges of your consciousness, you slid down on the thick silicone cock, pretending it belonged to Steve. 

The alpha next door was just so…sweet. 

It hadn’t taken you long after moving into your cottage to learn your neighbor’s schedule, and you made sure to always be working in the garden in front of your home when he got back from work. You lived for the growly greetings he would call to you, and the faint blush that would graze his cheekbones, like he was shy around you, his harmless omega neighbor. 

And on the weekends, when you knew Steve wasn’t working, you sat on your back porch reading—though you were more often ogling the fit alpha’s shoulders and arms as he worked in his backyard. The sun would shine on Steve’s blond hair and make him look like a golden god, with sparkling blue eyes that would occasionally flick in your direction, though you didn’t think he was really looking at you.

Of course, when he’d offer to mow your lawn, you’d let him. Then, to show the alpha your thanks, you’d make him some nice refreshing lemonade. If that meant you could watch him quench his thirst while you imagined his sweet mouth on your body, drinking your slick as eagerly as he drank your lemonade, then that was just a bonus to being a good neighbor. Right?

It had become abundantly clear to you that you harbored a crush on Steve, and it was nearly excruciating living next to him when he didn’t seem interested in making a move on his omega neighbor. After all, it had been months, and he’d been nothing but friendly and respectful and sweet. 

It was obvious, at least to you, that Steve was too sweet for you—too sweet to be the rough, dominant alpha you craved. Too sweet to bend you over and impale you on his thick cock with one stroke. Too sweet to shove his knot into your cunt and make you come so hard you saw stars. Too sweet to knock you up over and over again, filling up that big house of his with pups that you’d created together. 

You’d told yourself it was for the best that Steve kept his distance. If he couldn’t be what you needed, then you didn’t want your crush to develop into unrequited feelings. But your heart didn’t listen, so you kept putting yourself in situations where you’d get to see your neighbor—working in your front garden when he got home, sitting on your back porch while he was in his backyard. 

Then, you began to feel your heat coming on, and your thoughts about the alpha next door only worsened. It wasn’t uncommon anymore for unmated omegas to ask alpha friends or acquaintances to help them through their heats, but the prospect of asking Steve for his help, getting to come all over his knot for days on end, and then trying to go back to the way things were sounded torturous. 

Instead, you went about your heat preparations as you always did, gathering supplies from the grocery store and stocking up the minifridge in your bedroom with sports drinks while you piled your bedside table high with protein bars. You closed and locked all the doors and windows of your cottage, drawing the curtains tight to keep out the sun. 

You knew you were a bit of an odd omega, and you didn’t like total darkness in your nest, which was why you had been the only one interested in the little cottage. It had a skylight in the bedroom that any other omega would want closed and covered during their heat. The window itself was covered in a film that dampened most of the direct  sunlight and you enjoyed the natural light, even when you were deep in your heat, so it was perfect for you.

It occurred to you, as you were preparing your room, that if you cracked open the skylight, the sounds you made during your heat would filter out from your cottage. Your desperate cries for a knot might even be heard by the alpha next door…

Later, you’d blame your decision to leave the skylight open on the dangerous combination of your pre-heat brain and the exquisite agony of your crush on Steve. But by that time, the little decision you’d made in the urgency of your heat preparations would’ve irrevocably changed your life—for the better—and you wouldn’t give a thought to regretting what you’d done.

Still, on that second morning of your heat, when you were woken by the need to be knotted and flooded with come, you didn’t even remember that you’d decided to leave the skylight open. So you had no idea whether it was working or not, whether Steve could hear you—but he wasn’t far from your thoughts as you rode your silicone alpha toy, trying to slake the need that burned through your body. 

Your heats were always a little hazy, like most omega’s, with desire and need pounding through your blood so insistently, you couldn’t form any coherent thoughts. Your mind could only focus on getting a cock inside you, then a knot and, if you’d had an alpha to help you, the gush of their come. Since you were so mindless, you uttered words that you’d forgotten the second they fell from your lips.

The first night of your heat, when you’d had a moment of clear-headedness enough to gulp down a sports drink and scarf a protein bar, you’d hoped you hadn’t cried out anything that would embarrass you—like Steve’s name. You’d had a vague memory of calling out for an alpha, which was normal for an unmated omega, and a daddy, which was normal for you, given your desires when you weren’t going through your heat. But you’d breathed a sigh of relief when you didn’t remember calling out for Steve specifically. 

You couldn’t imagine what would happen if you cried out Steve’s name while in heat. But you were about to find out.

The silicone toy in your cunt wasn’t cutting it. It had been just fine that first night, though you hadn’t felt as satisfied as you normally did, and you hadn’t slept as long as you typically did in between waves of your heat. Something about this heat felt different. You weren’t just desperate for an alpha’s knot and come, you wanted more…

You wanted a pup. You wanted an alpha’s cock shoved deep in your cunt, unloading their come against your cervix, filling your womb with a seed that would take and knock you up. You wanted to be bred—and not just by any alpha. You wanted the alpha next door to breed you.

Steve. You wanted Steve. You needed Steve. 

“Please,” you gasped, the word leaving your lips as you thought of your big, sweet alpha neighbor. His face came easily to your mind, those sparkling blue eyes and soft lips, that strong jaw and the way a blush turned his cheeks the most perfect shade of pink. “Please, alpha, need your knot, need your come,” you whined, speaking to the image of Steve in your mind.

You pushed yourself up onto your knees, grabbing one of the many pillows from your bed and shoving it between your thighs, forcing the silicone alpha cock deeper into your cunt. Still, it wasn’t enough, even as you tried to make due. 

You rocked your hips, trying to replicate the feeling of fucking yourself on an alpha’s cock, but it paled in comparison. A desperate whine worked its way up your throat, filling your room and slipping from the skylight into the morning air.

“Please, daddy, wanna have your baby,” you cried, your hands going to your tits and tugging on your nipples so roughly, pleasure and pain swirled through your body, creating a tornado of sensation that only fed the need burning in your core. “Wan’ you to knock me up, alpha, wanna give you pups, wan’ you to suck on my milky tits while you fuck me, daddy.” You groped your breasts, pinching your nipples like you were milking yourself, the sensations making your cunt gush slick all over the toy inside you. 

The pleasure was gathering in your core, making you more desperate to reach the pinnacle of your climax. Your hips worked, humping the pillow and cock between your thighs, shoving yourself down against the knot at the base of the toy, knowing it was what you needed to come, but your pussy was still too tight to take it. 

“Oh god, I need it, alpha, I need it, I need it,” you babbled mindlessly, fucking yourself furiously on the toy and still wishing it was Steve’s cock. 

You pictured him beneath you, his cheeks tinged pink, not with a blush, but with the flush of his desire for you, his blue eyes nearly black from his pupils blowing wide as he stared up at you. His soft mouth parted as he groaned, his thick cock buried in your tight cunt, twitching as you squeezed him.

It was with that image in your mind that the fateful words spilled from your lips. You cried out desperately, “Knock me up, daddy, gimme your pup, please—please, breed me, Steve!” 

So close to the edge of your release, you barely heard the distant crashing sound that echoed between your little cottage and the house that belonged to the alpha next door. All you heard were your gasping breaths and mindless moans, the toy shoving into your cunt making low squelching noises that only managed to turn you on more. 

It was only when a much closer smashing sound preceded the swirl of cool morning air infiltrating your home, and flooding into your nest, that you were able to drag your attention away from your own desperate frustration. Your omega instincts were going haywire, part of you telling you something was wrong, while another part unfurled and shifted, like a flower blooming toward the sun. 

Blinking your eyes to clear away the haze of your heat, your mouth fell open in an ‘o’ of surprise at the sight of the alpha in your bedroom doorway. 

Steve’s big body filled the doorway, his hands clutching the wooden frame while his chest heaved with heavy breaths. It looked like he was trying to hold himself back, his grip so tight on your doorframe that a distant part of your mind worried it might splinter beneath his palms. But you couldn’t think too closely about that, not when your neighbor was staring at you with a crazed look in his eyes, like he wanted to fill you with his knot as badly as you wanted to be filled.

Your too sweet alpha neighbor’s mouth—which was normally curved in a soft, friendly smile—was twisted with ferocious lust, and when he spoke, his voice was a rough growl like nothing you’d ever heard from Steve. 

“Invite me into your bed,” he rumbled, the order clear in his voice even if he didn’t use his alpha command. “Ask me to help you through your heat, tell me you want me here,” he went on through clenched teeth, an edge of desperation in his tone that called your heart—and your cunt. “Tell me you want me, omega.” His fingers gripped the doorframe tighter, and you heard the wood creak beneath his strength. 

Your pussy spasmed and your heart lurched when Steve called you by your designation, but it was when his scent hit you that you felt something inside your being shift and lock into place. Steve smelled like home—like safety and security and love. He smelled like a future of wrangling children together and making love together and sitting on a porch swing together and growing old together. 

In that moment, you knew what your instincts had known from the moment you met Steve—he was your mate. He was the one alpha in all the world who was meant for you, just as you were the omega meant for him. And once you knew that, it was the easiest thing in the world to part your lips and beg him to join you in your nest, in your bed, and help you through your heat.

“Please, Steve—please, mate, please help me,” you begged, your voice breathy with need and excitement, tears of joy shining in your eyes. 

Something shifted in Steve’s expression when you called him your mate. You watched as he took a deep breath, scenting you the way you had him. A riot of emotions swirled in those beautiful blue eyes of his—disbelief, acknowledgement, acceptance, satisfaction, pride. You saw the moment he realized what you’d only just discovered, a smile flickering at the corner of his mouth.

“My omega, my mate,” Steve growled, finally letting go of the doorframe and launching himself at you.

Finally—finally—Steve was coming to you, closing the distance between you, and you’d never been happier in all your life. The alpha next door was your mate, and you hoped that meant he would be more than willing to knock you up and breed you like you needed.

Steve had woken from his fitful sleep to the sound of your sweet cries that morning, though they sounded much more desperate to his ears. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not, but you sounded less than satisfied with whatever toy you were using and Steve slid a hand down to his already hard cock, thinking you should’ve been riding him instead of some silicone dick.

He’d lazily stroked his cock, trying to restrain himself from coming all over his stomach, while listening to your increasingly desperate cries. Steve had fisted a hand in the sheets of his bed, hoping it would be enough to hold himself back from storming over to your cottage and taking your heat into his own hands. 

Then, Steve heard you cry out his name and something in him snapped. Before he even knew what he was doing, he’d thrown on some boxer briefs and stormed out of his bedroom, leaping down the stairs and throwing open the front door of his house so ferociously, he’d ripped it off some of the hinges. 

Not even caring that he was leaving his door open, Steve charged over to your cottage, taking a little bit more care with your front door when he broke the lock and pushed it open, flinging it closed behind him. He knew it was likely stuck closed thanks to the broken lock, but Steve only cared that it would prevent anyone else from getting into your home. He’d deal with getting out later. Much later.

Finally, Steve got to the doorway of your bedroom, your nest, and he’d stumbled to a stop at the sight that lay before him.

You were perched in the center of your big bed, a pillow wedged between your thighs, the knot of a toy barely visible while you humped futilely on the fake cock. Your delicate fingers groped your tits, squeezing your soft flesh and pinching your nipples like you were milking yourself—that thought making even more blood rush to Steve’s cock. Desperate whimpers and whines fell from your lips, more pleas to be knocked up and filled with pups, and they were nearly his undoing.

At the last second, Steve gripped the doorframe, holding himself back from pouncing on you, as he tried to remember why he shouldn’t be there. You were an unmated omega, in heat, and he hadn’t gotten permission to be in your nest, let alone help you through your heat. And you were too sweet for him…

God, you looked sweet, though. Sweet enough that Steve’s mouth watered with the thought of how slick you were, how good you would taste on his tongue. Even from the doorway, he could see the way your wetness had soaked the pillow between your thighs. He wanted to taste you, to scent you, he wanted you. 

Steve was seconds away from launching himself at you when your gaze finally landed on him. It was the delighted surprise in your eyes that urged him to ground out a desperate plea for consent to enter your room and help you through your heat. Blessedly, you seemed coherent enough to answer—but you didn’t only answer and beg for his help, you called him your mate.

That word struck a chord in Steve’s chest, his heart pounding even harder at the impossible prospect that you were his mate—that you were meant to be his. But he took a deep breath, taking in the scent of you and opening himself up to the possibility that you were his. 

You even smelled sweet, like the pink roses in your front garden—or, rather, the peace Steve felt when he came home to find you tending to your flowers. You smelled like the warmth of a gentle fire and the giddiness of butterfly kisses. You smelled like life, like the time unfurling before the two of you, years and decades spent with each other, making each other happy. 

It was as if Steve truly came alive for the first time when he scented you, and the last tether of the self-restraint holding him back from you snapped. 

“My omega, my mate,” he rumbled in a low purr, a voice he’d never even heard himself use before. But he didn’t have time to think about that too closely—he only knew he needed to get to you. 

As quickly as he could, Steve surged into your room, tearing off his boxer briefs—the only clothing he’d had the presence of mind to put on, and he was thankful for it, since it saved him the grief of a public indecency charge—in the few steps it took to get to your bed.

By the time Steve tackled you into the tangle of blankets and pillows, he was naked as the day he was born, his cock throbbing with need and brushing against swaths of your soft, bare skin, leaving his precum behind. The alpha cradled your body in his strong arms as he rolled you beneath him, his narrow hips slotting perfectly between your plush thighs, his hard length resting against your mound. 

But there was something in his way, something that shouldn’t be inside you and Steve couldn’t help but growl, “Get that fucking toy out of my cunt, ‘mega.” He softened the fury in his voice with light, fleeting kisses to your cheeks and temple and forehead, greedy to taste the sweetness of your skin.

“Yes, alpha,” you gasped, fumbling between your bodies to wrench the silicone dick from your tight hole. 

The sweet submission in your voice was too much for Steve—he had to taste it. Slanting his lips to yours, Steve kissed you for the first time, groaning into your mouth at the wondrous feeling of your mouth beneath his. You tasted better than you smelled, like radiant sunshine bursting on his tongue and casting a golden glow over his entire body. 

Deepening the kiss, Steve plundered your mouth, stroking his tongue against yours and nipping at your lips until you were gasping and panting beneath him. Your entire body trembled with unslaked need, your fingers clinging to his bulging biceps as you cried out for him, all of which stroked Steve’s alpha ego so much, his cock twitched and leaked against your belly.

“Please, Steve—daddy—alpha—I need you inside me,” you wailed in a broken voice and Steve’s instincts took over.

He shifted his hips back, the tip of his cock finding your slick hole and he pushed forward, sinking his hard length into your cunt with one thrust. Steve’s entire world realigned, his heart stuttering in his chest at the feeling of your tight heat consuming him, overwhelming him. An animalistic groan left his lips, and he buried the sound in your neck, breathing in your scent as he tried not to come immediately.

With Steve’s cock finally buried inside you, he felt your body relax beneath him, your moan of pleasure dissolving into a sigh of relief. Steve’s hindbrain felt a deep satisfaction at the way you melted in his arms, your submission to him apparent in the loosening of your muscles. Finding your lips again, Steve kissed you sweetly, cherishing the moment of calm before your heat urged the two of you to move.

“Thank you, alpha,” you whispered, your voice soft and blissful and the most content Steve had heard it since your heat began in earnest the day before. “The toys weren’t working.” You pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek on your way to burying your face in the crook of his neck, breathing so deeply he could hear your inhale, making his cock twitch in the depths of your pussy. 

Then, your words pierced through the haze of pleasure in Steve’s mind and he purred, smiling into your neck when you relaxed further beneath him, responding to him.

“You needed your mate, didn’t you, baby?” Steve cooed, lavishing your neck with kisses until you were whining and squirming beneath him. “Needed your daddy to pound your needy little cunt like only your alpha could, huh?” He started rolling his hips in tight circles, grinding into your cunt, his knot rubbing your clit in a way that had you clenching deliciously around him. “Needed me to pump your sweet little womb full of come, huh, needed me to give you a pup?” 

As soon as the heated words fell from Steve’s lips, he wished he could take them back. He’d heard you beg him to breed you, but that was when you were riding a silicone alpha dick, not when you were seconds away from taking Steve’s knot. 

Mentally, Steve chastised himself for letting his mouth run away from him so soon. He’d barely gotten his cock in you and he was already talking about knocking you up. He didn’t want you to think he was that kind of alpha, one that only wanted an omega to pump out babies for him—even though the thought did make Steve rock hard.

“Sorry, ‘mega,” Steve mumbled, shifting his arms beneath your body so he could cradle your head in one hand, holding you still while he rocked his hips into yours, kissing your cheek and jaw and neck and anywhere he could reach. 

“Sorry for what?” you asked on a gasp, hooking your legs around Steve’s sides and clinging to him so you could grind on his thick cock. 

Thankfully, you didn’t seem turned off or scared by Steve’s breeding talk. If anything, the way you arched your spine and shoved your cunt down on his dick made him think you liked it. But surely that couldn’t be true.

“Didn’t mean to mention pups so soon,” Steve said gruffly, hiding his face in your neck so you wouldn’t see the blush that he knew was turning his cheeks pink. 

“Oh god,” you moaned, your cunt squeezing Steve’s cock as your body writhed beneath his. “Wanna give you so many pups, alpha,” you cried, humping up from beneath Steve’s big body, riding his cock harder than you’d been riding your toy when he’d walked in. 

Steve went cross-eyed at the assault on his senses. Between the perfect heat of your slick pussy gripping his cock, teasing his knot every time you rocked against him, and the sound of your sweet voice confessing you wanted him to knock you up, Steve’s body shuddered with the effort it took not slam his knot home and flood your womb with his seed to give you exactly what you wanted.

“You like that idea, huh?” Steve rumbled, hungry passion and desire coursing through his body and urging him to move faster, to fuck you harder. He pulled out of your fluttering pussy and slammed back inside, relishing the desperate cry that left your lips and the way your fingers dug into the muscles of his arms. “You like it when your alpha tells you how much he wants to breed you?” 

Despite his best efforts, Steve could hear the thread of insecurity in his question, and he wasn’t surprised when you cupped his face and moved his head up so you could look into his eyes. What he didn’t expect was the sheer amount of pleasure and desire in your hazy gaze, or the mixture of sweetness and depravity in the little smirk you gave him.

“I do, daddy,” you said, your voice breathy but no less firm in your resolve. “I want to hear everything you’ve thought about doing to your little omega—want you to breed me, alpha.” 

Everything else in the world melted away as Steve focused on you—his omega, his mate—and the fact that he was going to try his damndest to give you what you wanted. After all, that was his duty as your alpha. You were his to take care of, to provide for, to protect, to cherish—to fuck and to knot. 

You were his to love—you were his to breed. And Steve planned on loving you and breeding you plenty.

You’d never felt anything so good as Steve sinking his thick alpha cock into your weeping cunt, and you nearly sobbed in relief as the edge of aching, burning need finally abated. This was what you needed—not a toy or any alpha’s cock, but your mate’s. Your body and omega instincts had known something was wrong, and it had taken a slip of your tongue to fix it. 

Even if it had been an accident to cry out Steve’s name, you couldn’t feel embarrassed about it, not when you finally felt something like satisfaction. The need of your heat still burned bright beneath your skin, but for a moment, you could revel in the feeling of being so intimately connected to your mate, your Steve—the alpha next door. 

The words of thanks had slipped past your lips before you could stop them, and you loved the teasing way he responded. But then you felt a shift in Steve. He’d seemed to feel guilty for mentioning pups, but even his apology turned you on, making your arousal burn hotter. Your body had been unable to still when you needed him so badly—needed to give him pups, needed to grow round with his child and know that he had claimed you in the most primal way possible. 

Your brain had short-circuited when Steve had said he wanted to breed you, but you’d still heard the anxiousness in his tone and you’d guided his head up so you could look at him. The uncertainty and guilt in Steve’s beautiful blue eyes nearly broke your heart. He was too sweet for words, wanting to make sure you were comfortable with even the words he said in the heat of the moment. 

Between one breath and the next, you fell in love with Steve Rogers. He wasn’t simply the alpha next door, he was your mate, and he was yours. A fierce possessiveness filled your chest as you smirked up at your alpha, determining to show him exactly how much you wanted everything he’d said.

“Want you to breed me, alpha,” you begged on a moan, your hips rising up off the bed to meet the brutal thrusts of your mate. “Fill me up with your pups, daddy, please, I need it!” You held Steve’s gaze, letting him see the pleasure on your face, hear the genuineness of your words. 

You saw the moment Steve’s insecurity and guilt melted into desire and determination. His blue eyes darkened and his face twisted into a mask of sinful resolve. He looked like a fallen god, with his golden hair and tanned skin, framed perfectly in the little bit of morning light filtering in through the skylight above your bed. Your pussy clenched around his cock, fluttering as he thrust inside you, teasing your hole with his knot.

“Don’t worry, ‘mega,” Steve rumbled, ducking down and capturing your lips in a sweet kiss that left you gasping for breath. He pressed his forehead to yours, staring deep into your eyes. “We’re making a baby today.”

“Yes, alpha,” you cried, spreading your legs wider in an effort to let Steve fuck you deeper. He grinned, shifting his hands to your thighs and pushing them up against your chest, folding you in half and pounding you into the bed. 

“Gonna fill up your perfect cunt with all the seed in my balls, and if it doesn’t take today, ‘m gonna fill you up until you’re overflowing with my come—until your belly’s bulging with it,” Steve growled, rutting into you with a ferociousness you never would’ve expected from your sweet alpha neighbor. But Steve’s sweetness was never far from the surface, and he proved it by lowering his voice to a deep rumble that you felt in your belly, asking, “Mm, ’s that what you want, baby, want daddy to give you a pup?”

You were pinned beneath Steve, his cock fucking you so hard, your room was filing with the wet squelching sounds of your soaking cunt and the sharp rhythm of your alpha’s thighs slapping against your own. But still, it was his words that seemed to have the most effect on you, turning you into a writhing, needy creature who’d only be satisfied when Steve emptied his balls deep in your cunt. 

“Yes, alpha,” you cried, your fingers clinging to Steve’s shoulders, digging into his warm, golden skin while he fucked you into oblivion. “Want you to knock me up, wanna give you a pup, wanna grow big and round with your child and feed you both from my milky tits,” you babbled, throwing your head back and screaming when Steve’s cock hit against your cervix, pleasure and pain swirling like an inferno in your body. “Please, daddy, god, I need it, I need it—knot me, breed, me, Steve, please!” 

“Baby,” Steve groaned, capturing your lips in another kiss while he rutted into you faster and harder, his knot pressing against your tight hole with every thrust and teasing you with the stretch of it. “You’re gonna get a pup, alright,” he growled when he pulled away, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re gonna pop out a kid for me and then I’m gonna fill you right back up.” Steve moaned, his body shuddering and you knew he was close. “Wanna watch you bounce on my cock with your belly ripe and swollen with my pups, your tits heavy with milk—the prettiest mommy and mate an alpha could ask for.” 

“Steve,�� you sobbed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to hold him close, kissing him and thrusting your hips up to meet his. “Please, make me a mommy, alpha—wanna be a mommy, please, daddy, daddy, please!” Then your lips were too preoccupied with Steve’s, kissing him messily in between desperate moans while he fucked you hard and fast. 

Finally, Steve pulled back and thrust forward with so much power, his knot pushed inside your tight cunt and you screamed in pleasure, the feeling of his thick bulge stretching your tight hole sending you over the edge into the most earth-shattering release you’d felt in your life. It was a transcendental experience, coming on your mate’s cock, your alpha surrounding you and filling you up in every way possible.

As your body squeezed Steve’s cock, he groaned loudly in your ear, burying his face in your neck while his hips stuttered against yours, trying to fuck you with his knot but unable to move because your bodies were locked so tightly together. Then, with a moan of, “my mate,” you felt the moment Steve began to come. His cock twitched deep inside your cunt, a warmth filling you as he shot rope after rope of come against your cervix, filling your womb.

For a long time, the two of you stayed locked together, riding out your releases in each other’s embrace. Giggles and moans filled the room, each of you kissing the other wherever you could reach while you basked in your pleasure together. You breathed in the scent of Steve, your lips dragging up and down the column of his throat while he kissed your neck and shoulder and just beneath your ear, making you shiver. 

Eventually, when the squeezing of your cunt was reduced to a flutter and your body had milked every last drop of seed from Steve’s cock, the two of you settled. Your heat had abated for the moment. Though need still burned low in the core of your body, reminding you it wasn’t over just yet. 

But you had a bit of a respite, and you took the time to revel in you newfound mate. Turning your head, you pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek, which was flushed pink with pleasure.

You felt Steve’s smile against your skin and then he was rising up so you could see the full blush that tinged your alpha’s cheeks. He looked so sweet and ruined, his blond hair a mess, his blue eyes bright with satisfaction, a deeply smug smile on his plump lips. 

“Feeling better, ‘mega?” he asked, though there was so much male satisfaction in his tone, you were certain he already knew the answer. 

Still, you liked seeing this side of Steve. Typically you didn’t like cocky alphas, but Steve looked so hot when he was confident, your pussy fluttered around his knot at the sight of his smirk.

“I am, daddy,” you said softly, smiling up at your alpha, enjoying the way his smirk deepened as you confirmed what he knew. You couldn’t help but stroke his ego a little more. “Now that you’re here to take care of me.”

Steve’s eyes softened and he pressed a heated kiss to your lips. “Good,” he said when he pulled away. Then his arms were wrapping around you and he rolled onto his back, dragging you with him until you were splayed across his broad chest, your bodies still locked together by his knot. 

It would deflate soon enough, but you reveled in the feeling while it lasted, snuggling into Steve’s arms. Sleep called to you, but Steve was still moving and you when you opened your eyes, you found him reaching for your stash of provisions on your bedside table.

“Gotta eat and hydrate, baby,” Steve murmured as he unwrapped a protein bar and began feeding it to you. Even though you were exhausted, you knew he was right and you let him feed you, only sitting up when it was time to gulp down some of the sports drink he offered you. “Good girl, ‘mega, doing so well for your alpha,” Steve said, praising you while you ate and drank.

When you were done, Steve tossed the empty wrappers and bottles back onto your bedside table and relaxed into the many pillows on your bed. You settled down on his chest, your body sated in every way possible, muscles going loose when your alpha began to purr. 

“Thank you, alpha,” you mumbled, the urge to sleep more insistent since you were fed. Steve’s hands smoothed down your back, tracing your spine lightly with his fingertips in a way that made you melt even further into him. 

“Don’t need to thank me,” he grumbled, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. “You’re my mate, ‘m gonna do everything I can to take care of you—and our kids.” He added the last bit like it was an afterthought, but you knew Steve meant it, and your heart warmed at his protectiveness. 

You smiled into Steve’s warm skin, nuzzling into his neck beneath his jaw, breathing in the scent of him—the scent of home—but his words made you remember something you should tell him. 

“Steve, ‘m on birth control,” you murmured sleepily, pressing a lazy kiss to the thick column of his neck. “Thought you should know.” You snorted a little, laughing at yourself for the silliness of your last statement, even though it was true.

The rumble of Steve’s purr changed as he chuckled, his strong arms tightening around your waist for a moment before he grabbed a blanket and pulled it up over your cooling bodies. “Figured, ‘mega,” he rumbled, his voice so warm, you could hear his smile. “Doesn’t mean ‘m gonna stop picturing you round with my pup, even if it’s a while before that happens.”

“Mm,” you hummed in acknowledgment, then pouted as you processed his words. “As long as it’s not a long while,” you muttered, hardly listening to what you were saying because you were so close to sleep.

Steve chuckled again, his hands squeezing you lightly. “It’ll be as long or as short as you want, baby,” he assured you in a gruff voice that was thick with just as much tiredness as yours. “I’d give you a pup today if I could.” 

You smiled, your heart filling with emotion, and pressed your lips to your alpha’s neck. You might’ve been exhausted, but it didn’t stop you from murmuring the words your heart urged you to say, “I love you, Steve.” 

Steve’s purr deepened, and he held you close, no hesitation in his voice when he said, “I love you, too.” Your alpha brushed a kiss to your cheek and smacked your ass very lightly. “Now rest, omega, we still have to get through the rest of your heat.”

You fell asleep with a smile on your face, feeling safe and protected and satisfied in the arms of your mate, your bodies still locked together by Steve’s knot. You never would’ve expected anything to come of your crush on your neighbor—and you never would’ve expected he’d be a perfect fit for your desires, let alone your mate. 

But, you knew the two of you were going to live a happy life together—and you couldn’t wait to spend every moment of it with the alpha next door.

[david-watts]

ya know. maybe it’s the wisdom of four in the morning but I AM pissed. the fact that I had to inhale not only paint fumes, but also not having respiratory protection whilst taking up fifty-year-old carpet, definitely contributed to the fact I have a migraine and threw up earlier

[aakeysmash]

hii, first time writing a prompt :)

maybe a drunk reader and sukuna has to take care of her and take her home, she forgot her jacket and he lends her his sweater. maybe established relationship?

(i love your sukuna fics hehehe)

i made this a bit angsty lol

"you look like a spider."

sukuna rolls his eyes, then turns around and keeps on dragging you by your hand, just like he has been doing for the past 10 minutes. "what the fuck are you saying now?"

you trip on your own two feet, again, and you have to stop, again. you see him closing his eyes and taking one big inhale. he's really close from breaking your neck. you wobbly get in front of him, squint and poke his chest with your freshly done nail. "you- *hic* have eight eyes. ouch!"

you frown, massaging your forehead. he just flicked you.

"spiders have eight legs, not eight eyes. and i do not have eight fucking eyes," he tells you, annoyed.

"okay but still," you pout. you look at him and- damn, he's really fucking pretty. even if he's blurry he looks like a king: he's only wearing a sweater, but he's the hottest man you've ever seen. you try getting on your tippy toes to kiss him on the cheek, but you almost fall face-flat on the concrete you're walking on.

"you stink, don't get close to me," he says, serious, dodging your attempt to grab his forearm. then he turns around and leaves you there, standing. you open your mouth to say something, but no words come out, so you just stare at his retreating back. you know you're annoying him badly. it's not like receiving a messy text saying your girlfriend is drunk and that she needs a ride could be pleasurable for anyone, especially if you told her to be careful while she was out with her friends and if the text was sent in the middle of the night. and especially if you fought before she got out.

you're a little bit lost in your thoughts, and walking has become really hard, and when you look up you don't see sukuna anywhere. you feel like crying. you hate when he gets angry, especially because you never know how to say sorry properly. you didn't think he'd leave you in the middle of the street, though.

you sit down on the sidewalk and decide to take off your heels. they're hurting your feet and they make you seem like a drug addict for the people that see you walk. not like you could care less without sukuna making fun of you for it. you went a little overboard, sure, but you don't leave a girl alone at night.

you start crying. you don't even remember why you fought in the first place; maybe something that had to do with mowing the lawn this saturday? or was it about last night's tv series? anyway, you start missing him badly, you just want to go to sleep and stop your head from hurting. plus, it's so cold tonight. why does he have to be this difficult?

"the fuck are you doing?" a voice comes from behind you. you jump a little and try turning around, but you're suddenly brought up by two massive arms, finding yourself face to face with your boyfriend. he's looking at you weirdly. it's so cold.

"oh. hi," you say, sniffling and trying to wipe your tears, only creating a bigger mess on your face from your mascara streaks. your feet are touching the bare concrete and you feel like a mess. you fidget while avoiding the eye contact he's trying to make.

"why are you- nevermind," he answers himself, exhaling hard. you close your eyes and try not to let more tears out, feeling like he's going to tell you you need a break of some sort, when a weird warmth engulfs you. you look at your shoulders, now covered by the jacket he always has in his car "just in case he gets cold". but you know he never gets cold, he always runs warm. he keeps that jacket in his car for you.

he gets one of his hands on your cheeks, angling your face towards him, then tries cleaning up your snot and make-up with a tissue. you look up at him, big eyes observing his every move. you're warmer now. his hand touching you is warm too, and he makes little circles on your skin. you know it's his way of saying he's sorry.

"you're so messy," he mumbles, his face extremely close to yours, kissing your nose lightly. you burst into tears again.

"yo what-"

"i- i thought you lef-left me here," you sob, leaning your head on his chest. he's paralyzed for a moment, then gets one hand on your small back and caresses your head with the other.

"baby, you were freezing, i just went to the car to get your- my jacket."

"i know but you were so-so annoyed *hic* i thought-"

"then stop thinking," he interrupts you. you still, then lightly nod, brushing your face on his shirt.

"not too much, pretty girl, this shirt is white," he chuckles in your ear, still massaging your scalp. you hum.

"let's get you home, m'kay? i'll run you a really nice bath. i'mma make sure you take aaaall your medicines and get you to bed, mh?" he mocks you, almost like he's talking to a child.

you softly punch his chest, then mumble, "the bath sounded nice."

you're swept off your feet, then he squats to get the heels you left on the sidewalk.

"then i'll run you one for real. everything for you."

you're already dead asleep when you get to his car, and he makes sure to kiss your forehead before closing the passenger door, a little smirk on his lips.

[cherie-doll]

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Summer With Them

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, Phillip Graves, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

ׂׂૢ Y’all have no idea how much i hate summer i defrost from vampire to weird nerd -1000 aura points or whatever they’re saying on the clock app

Anyways i finished this while at the laundromat

Ghost

Prefers summer nights to summer days or evenings

Sits on the porch at night with you listening to the cicadas sing

And during this time you can’t take showers together bc he won’t let you adjust the temperature, he takes his showers ice cold

Don’t ask me where I get this from but he vibes with that one Type O Negative song bc according to him it gives “summer” (iykyk)

Prob has sun sensitivity

Cannot leave the house without his sunglasses

And he avoids driving when the sun’s too bright

Soap

Bastard who enjoys summer #1

He likes summer because it means going down to the beach and showing off his muscles that stay clothed under uniform throughout the year

Wants to buy swimming trunks that’ll match your swimwear

He likes joining teens in volleyball and flying kites with kids

Loves going on walks on the beach at dawn and dusk

He once gave you a bad scare when making you think the dolphin fin in the water was a shark

Even if you’re at home he’ll drag you out of bed to join his morning walk and evening walks after dinner

Gaz

He’s content with summer

Will come up with tons of things to do

Picnics he prepares every weekend

Cloud watching

Catching fireflies in a jar and setting them free all at once to see them glow

Running his fingers through your hair as the breeze blows

Making lemonade together to stay cool outside

Buys a vintage camera to take lots of pics of you

On every evening walk you take together he picks something small like a leaf or flower and saves it

At the end of the season he gets everything together and creates a page in his scrapbook

Alejandro

Bastard who enjoys summer #2

He likes the feel of summer breeze on his bare skin and you look forward to seeing that ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Likes to sleep with the windows open at night

Blasts music

Carne asadas

Frequents the local ice cream shops to buy mangonadas

Throughout the entire summer your kitchen has fruits of all kind that he eats with tajin

Will take you for a drive around in his truck and then find a quiet little spot like a lake or mountain to park and sit on the truck bed watching the sky

Phillip Graves

Sits outside with sunglasses on and beer in hand

Calls for you to come out and sit with him to watch the sunset

Cookouts

Anytime you complain of the heat you better hope he’s not around to yap your ear off about some anecdote from when he was a child

“It’s hot” “Ain’t that hot” he responds whilst his face is sunburned bc he refuses to wear sunscreen

Will only wear sunscreen if you are able to catch him before he goes outside and apply it for him

Keegan

It seems like summer evenings are the perfect time to do stuff

For some reason likes to do things shirtless in summer: yard/garden work, mowing the lawn, washing the car..

You set up a chair on the porch to watch him

Falling asleep on a soft patch of grass under the shade of a tree

Will start a bonfire and sit around it with you for hours into the late hours of the night

Sometimes you’ll stay out so late with him that both of you fall asleep

König

He’s not fond of summer

Would prefer to stay inside but if you want to he’ll go out as well

Sprawls on the floor with the fan on

He’ll drive where you want to go and then sit in the car watching you

Prob keeps ice packs in a cooler to keep cool when going outside for a long time

He’d rather be outside when the sun starts to set and the sky turns orange

Sets up a hammock

Afternoon naps on the hammock with the gentle sway of the wind

Horangi

He likes summer and prepares for it

Just imagine him getting out a little backpack with a sunhat, sunglasses, sunscreen, water bottle, umbrella, cooling sleeves, etc…

That’s not for him tho that’s for you he puts on sunglasses and is good to go

During summer he loves going to markets and buying fruit bc that’s when it’s best

Lots of strawberries, grapes and tangerines

Constantly reminds you to wear sun protection

He likes being outside a lot actually and will take you to his favorite parks and places to hike

Nikto

The change of seasons does not affect him much

He’ll notice the change of weather one day and mention how much warmer it is

“It’s summer” “Oh, we should go camping soon…”

He’ll take you camping whether you like it or not insisting that you will like it

Sets a tent near the river to catch fish

He also likes to plant vegetables during the nice weather and bring them to you, proudly showing off his hard work rewarded

He likes to cook meals together and eat outside

[soulwrit3s]

Nonsense

A/N : i haven’t written in ages, Ik Ik 😭 i have so many WIPS that I’m not satisfied with and this has been sitting in my drafts for ages.

mechanic! riri x reader

🔧: @pvnks0ul @kissvamps @ririshotgf

“Ion know what her problem is anyway.” Riri sighs . She just finished giving you all the details of her dad’s side of the family. More specifically, Her cousin, Gina who is especially messy and the two of you couldn’t make it to Chicago this year to watch her and her husband argue like they do every year. He’s an absolute sweetheart and she still manages to give him a hard time.

“You think that could ever be us?” You ask Riri as you watch her move around the garage. She doesn’t spare a glance at you while she looks into her toolbox. The two of you are freshly married, having dated for four years before tying the knot. In the past 6 months of your marriage, you'd say that things have barely changed. It feels the same as when you were dating.

She looks too good, her jumpsuit zipped half way and The top half of it dropped at her hips. Her hands are covered in motor oil, her bicep muscles clenching and unclenching as she digs through the toolbox.

You decided to stop by, offer her a cherry coke while she works. You take your place in the corner of the garage, sitting on a bean bag as you watch her.

“Hell no.” She chuckles, grabbing a wrench from her toolbox and placing it in one of the deep pockets of her Navy blue jumpsuit. You've always loved watching her work, whether it's her screwing metal together for a better suit or this, watching her work on cars.

“We ain’t like Gina and her man. We like you and me, and we don’t argue like that. I’ve never yelled at you the way she be in that man’s ear.” Riri says with a small laugh. You watch her wipe the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand since the front of it is slathered in motor oil.

She’s not wrong. You two have had your disagreements but Riri’s never been one to yell, however you’ve watched her hold back. You on the other hand…It’s a different story but it’s still a work in progress, nothing she can’t handle.

“She gives him a hard time.” You sigh, a small amount of guilt making it’s way to your chest as you think of the couple. He always looks so miserable.

“Maybe, maybe not, maybe he’s a dick in secret.” Riri shrugs. She doesn’t speak of her Dad often let alone his side of the family and when you do see them, they’re either arguing or gossiping about something.

“What makes you say that?”

“I don’t think she yellin’ for no reason, baby. Maybe he did something he wasn’t supposed to be doing.” She states, a little amused now as she thinks of a multitude of reasons as to why that man is constantly getting scolded.

“It’s not funny.” You scold which only makes her laugh a little harder. She looks at you only to approach you and sit beside you. There’s barely any space for both of you on a singular bean bag so she lifts hooks her arms beneath your knees and back to place you on her lap.

“Tell me, that shit ain’t funny, They was arguing over mowing the lawn.” She grins as she takes a sip of glass of coke you had bright over for her. As much as she says she hates the gossip, she’s always been one to find it entertaining.

“All I’m saying is it’s a bit sad, don’t you think?” You sigh. They’ve been married for years and you can’t help but wonder if they’ve grown tired of each other, rather if you would ever be in that position.

“A little, but I ain’t arguing over some stupid shit like mowing the lawn.” She huffs while glancing at you. She looks to the side, wondering if you’ve zoned out or not.

“What I say?”

You both burst into laughter soon after, you could never get tired of her.

[oddballwriter]

Stacy's Mom

Summary: Marc is a single father to a lovely daughter, who has a friend who also has a single parent. He's never actually met Stacy's mom before, but when he finally does, he's taken aback by her.  

Warnings: Single!Dad!Marc and Single!Mom!reader. It's just Marc here, no mention of the system. 

Author’s Snip: I listened to Stacy's Mom by Fountains of Wayne and decided to make this.

Notes: If you guys want I can do a version of this for Steven and Jake. Just give me a prompt to do with them first. 

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 1056

  Rayna had this friend, Stacy. 

  She was a nice girl, don't get it wrong. Marc was glad that his daughter had some friends considering middle school was a tough time for making new friends with the change in schools. And also because as a single, working, dad it gave her something to do. But he would be lying if he said that having two twelve-year-old girls running around his house wasn't a bit of a handful. But Stacy was still a nice guest to have over. 

  He didn't really know much about her home life other than what she'd mentioned on a few occasions. The fact that she was raised by just her mom, you, and that you were a single working woman, often being away on business trips. And that was pretty much it. 

  The only communication Marc ever had with you was a few texts and Stacy herself sending a message on your behalf, like your permission for Stacy to sleep over at him and Rayna's home or for Rayna to spend that night at yours. There was also the fact that your houses were, apparently two blocks down from each other, so Stacy would just walk to and fro.

  It wasn't until one sleep-over that you two would make contact for the first time. 

  Stacy was on the track team at school and had hurt her ankle during practice, making her have to wear a boot brace till it healed. She could still walk on her own, but it wasn't the best idea for her to walk her way from her house to Marc and Rayna's so you drove her there this time before getting ready to head off to another business trip. 

  When Rayna opened the door she greeted Stacy enthusiastically and gave you a nice "Hello to you too, Ms. L/N.". Marc came to the door to originally help with Stacy's bags but he almost froze upon seeing you for the first time. 

  Marc hated that his immediate thoughts were that you had it going on, with your tight-fitted but still professional-looking outfit. You were gorgeous. 

  He managed to get himself back into reality though. Shaking off his awestruck expression and extended his hand for a handshake. "Mr. Spector. I'm Rayna's father." he said. You give him a greeting smile, "Ms. L/N, Stacy's mom." you say shaking Marc's hand. "But you can just call me Y/N." you request. "Then you can call me Marc then." Marc suggested. 

  "I just wanted to thank you for letting Stacy stay over so often. I don't like it when she stays home alone for such a long time when I'm gone." you tell Marc as the girls move to another part of the house. "It's no problem. She's a nice girl and they usually make their own fun without causing too much of a ruckus." Marc assures. "I just feel a bit bad because Stacy said that you're also a single parent and work at the same time." you claim. "Like I said. It's no problem. I'm usually sat at a desk here at home anyways, so I can keep a good eye on them." Marc reassures. 

  Oh god, you’re hot, a businesswoman, and you're nice?

  “Well, thank you so much either way.” you smile. You looked over his shoulder and called out “Bye, hunny. Behave for Mr. Spector and lay off that foot, okay? I’ll see you in a couple of days.”. Stacy turns and says “Wait, Mom! Don’t forget to hire someone to mow the grass.”. A look of revelation comes over your face before you pinch the bridge of your nose, “Now you remind me.” you mutter to yourself. “What’s the hold-up?” Marc asks. 

  “It’s nothing really,” you tell Marc, “It’s just that I’m too busy to mow the lawn and backyard. And Stacy both has her ankle injury and has never worked a lawnmower in her life so we usually have someone else do it.” you explain. “I can do it for you if you’d like.” Marc offers, without really thinking. “Oh, no, Marc. You don’t have to. You’re already doing so much for me.” you fret. “No, no. Really. If you two aren’t able to do it then I’ll gladly do it for you. I’ll bring my own mower, don’t worry.” Marc chuckles, “Matter of fact. Anytime you need your lawn mowed or anything like that, just call me. Alright?” he smiles, doubling up his offer. “Oh alright.” you give in, “But I will find a way to repay you. Mark my words.” you promise as you leave, saying goodbye to Marc and Rayna on the way out.

  The days passed and Marc kept to his word. He drove Stacy home with Rayna tagging along and their lawnmower settled in the back of his truck. Rayna and Stacy continued on like the sleepover wasn’t over and watched things on TV while he worked in the yards still they were all done. When he went back inside to tell Rayna that it was time to head back home, you stopped him for a moment, holding out a tin tray full of freshly baked cookies. He looked up at you with soft eyes, “Ms. L/N. You didn’t have to make me anything. It was no-” Marc tries to say before you cut him off, “I insist, Marc. I have to give you something as a thank you for all that you’ve done for me and Stacy.” you say, placing the tray into his hands. 

  “Tell you what.” Marc says, “Why don’t you and I eat somewhere sometime? To get to know each other better.” he offers, feeling a bit dumb because you’re standing in a nice apron with sweet-smelling perfume and he’s standing there with his forehead glazed with sweat and reeking of cut grass. You blink a shocked expression at him for a moment before a soft blush reaches your face. “You don’t mean that.” you smile timidly. “No. I mean, it would be nice. We could get to know each other better and feel more comfortable with our kids hanging out at each other’s houses.” Marc explained, trying not to sound like some sleazy dad, “Just a quick little lunch. Or Brunch. Or drink. Whichever you like better.” he says. 

  “Lunch would be nice.” you smile. 

[slashingdisneypasta]

Older!Horror Villains x Younger!Reader || Reactions

Reacting to: Someone at the store thinking that they're your grandparent- rather then your S/O. (Just something funny I was considering for Inkubus but decided to just do for all of them ^^ XD 😅)

Characters Included: The gilfs of the fandom 😅 ? I'm thinking 50 years and above. Captain Spaulding, Drayton Sawyer, Granny Boone, Inkubus, Jedidiah Sawyer, Luda Mae Hewitt, Mayor Buckman, Mental Manny / Manual Dyer, Peepaw Michael Myers, Norman Nordstrom, Otis B. Driftwood, Pamela Voorhees, Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie Hewitt Jr, Stuart Lloyd, the Taxidermist / Walter Harris and Winslow Foxworth Coltrane.

Warnings: Major age difference, bad language, sexual references, a really awkward misunderstanding...

Captain Spaulding: Spaulding's a pretty good sport about it XD In fact, he kinda enjoys it. Cuz then he gets to rub it in the persons face what a young, hot thing he's got going here with you and what- what did you say you had again?? Nothin'?? Yeahh, that's what I thought. Fuck right off, why dontcha?

Drayton Sawyer: Drayton goes so red and is about to blow his top. He gets enough shit from his brothers over this! He does not need one more moron bothering him about it! Fuck off! *Grabs you by the arm and storms off*

Granny Boone: "... Grandma, huh? Alright then!~ " *Turns to you* "Come here, sweetie, give grandmother a kiss~ " She's about to ruin that guys whole career 😅😅😅

Inkubus: Inkubus is not amused. Grandpa?? Absolutely not, no. He'll correct the person in the most embarrassing way possible.

Jedidiah Sawyer: Jed does not care at all 😅😅 The only person who's opinion matters to him is yours, so who cares if this guy thinks he's your grandpa? Fine then, he's your grandpa. So go and mow the lawn for him while he sits on the porch and has a sweet tea.

Luda Mae Hewitt: She's is gonna tear that guy a new one. Calling her old?? Son of a bitch, where is that persons manners?? She should set her damn sons on him.

Mayor Buckman: Sorry, Buckman cannot answer this question. He's too busy choking.

Mental Manny / Manual Dyer: Manny loves to correct people. He's got the biggest smile on his face as he goes oh you're mistaken- this is my beautiful partner. A little young, sure, but we sure don't mind~ Oh sweetheart, I think we're going be late for our dinner reservations. Shall we?

Peepaw Michael Myers: Like Jed he struggles to give a shit. Who cares??? He knows that he's not your grandfather and you know he's not your grandfather- that's all that matters. He doesn't care... but he does enjoy giving you a big kiss, with tongue, later when the guy sees you both again. He's a gremlin.

Norman Nordstrom: ... what? Norman is pissed at this idea, he hates it. He feels like a digusting predator (*cough* which he is, though not because you like him ^^) and it hits close to home. He's going to need you to set it straight.

Otis B. Driftwood: "... Ha! Okay, pal, check this out." He'll say, then turn around and basically make out with you right there in front of the guy. Otis is not amused at the poor insinuation and takes it out with lewd efficiency.

Pamela Voorhees: Again- not amused. As far as she's concerned, this total stranger has no business making disgusting insinuations about the two of you, anyway. So she'll ruthlessly take them down a notch with her words- and sweet smile.

Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie Hewitt Jr: "... you think you're funny? No I ain't their fucken grandpa. Didn't your bitch momma ever teach you to mind your business? Oh don't you worry, I can do it for her." Just- my friend- just keep him from taking out the damn shot gun.

Stuart Lloyd: "... oh... uh... n-no, actually- " Stuart forces himself to stutter through a quick explanation- but he wants to crawl into a whole and die (:

Taxidermist / Walter Harris: Gets the nervous giggles 😅😅😅 Doesn't correct them.

Winslow Foxworth Coltrane: Annnnd Foxy loves it XD He was already one kinky mother fucker- you can use this as foreplay. Let him smack your ass while they're still looking but call you 'Hon' or 'Sweetie'- he finds it funny and hot in equal measures.

[oh-sweet-mama]

Soooo as I've been thinking; Imagine a Frankie Morales, (and the rest of the boys), in an outbreak!AU like I'm talking TLOU zombies. Soooo many thoughts.

(Sorry this is my favorite gif of Francisco!)

CW: zombie apocalypse canon violence <33, mild angst (longing for pre-outbreak), no descriptors other than "Beautiful", "gorgeous", and “stunning”

Like imagine him being all protective as you all backpack across the country following leads to a safe haven. (Sm like Jackson).

Imagine being forced to share a sleeping bag or a mattress, and y'all are secretly crushing on each other. He tries to keep himself at a distance, but he some how wakes up with you pressed against him, and that creates another issue within itself.

Santi and Benny constantly teasing him with looks and snickers as he wakes up to see them looking at the pair of you snuggled up with one another on a hot June night.

Imagine Frankie having to help you after you get injured from getting caught in a shootout at a rundown corner store. All gentle eyes, and calloused hands as he stitches you up.

Cooing that he "knows it hurts" and "It's going to be ok, baby. Only a couple more stitches". Followed with "You're doing so good, it's almost over".

As if he isn't the one dousing the wound with rubbing alcohol and poking your skin with a needle. You still look at him like he hung the stars and the moon, because you know that this is your Frankie helping you.

He gingerly takes you to bed, and pulls the shitty covers up your chin. Softly petting a hand over your forehead to brush stray hairs, and sweat. You look up at him, and Frankie smiles at you; partly in love, and partly in sadness.

Sadness that this is the reality now. That you got hurt trying to look for a can of green beans to feed the group.

But oh how he loves you. Way too overly protective, and didn't let you go into stores or run down buildings for the first 6 months of the outbreak. Barely lets you get close to having to pull your own firearm out, constantly keeping you tucked behind him, with his broad frame.

The feeling of usually having his hand wrapped around your upper arm. So he can pull you away from danger if needed.

The brown eyes that were once rarely hardened and mean, now only melt at the sight of you. Even when you inist that you feel gross; and haven't properly showered in a while. He doesn't care; he thinks the you're still the most beautiful person he's ever laid his eyes upon.

Even as you get rougher due to the outbreak, and backpacking through the haphazard land of was once a country. The scars that now adorn your face, and body. He thinks you're gorgeous. Abosloutely stunning.

Sometimes he wonders what it woud've been like if the two of you had gotten together before shit hit the fan. And that's when he lays there at night, with an ache in his heart, and an arm around you waist holding you close. He grieves the dream that he wanted to have a home with you. He'll imagine that the two of you are in a bed, in a safe room, with an overly spacious master bath. And his truck parked out front, and his only worry is when the next time is he'll mow the lawn. What's for dinner, and who's washing the dishes.

But Francisco Morales will take whatever your willing to give. He doesn't understand why you're still you even after all of this mess. Maybe it's the man that was in the army and saw days of combat that is currently out to play. But you still smile, and you still crack your stupid jokes. You steal his hat, and tease him about his dimple. And oh my- He's laughing in the middle of the goddamn apocalypse because of you. But he doesn't hate you for it; in fact, you're one of the last reasons he has to keep going.

AN: Did I just word vomit about Francisco Morales in the zombie apocalypse? yes! Did this possibly stem from the fact that I've been reading wayyy to much Joel Miller x Reader... possibly... Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed :)

[romanarose]

Hey, I love your HCs of the Triple Frontier boys <3 I was thinking about what are some of their hobbies/interests and what kind of music they like to listen to. What do you think?

excellant question nonnie!!! I have LOTS of hc's, thanks for asking!!!

Santiago Garcia

We know Santi loves Metallica

And the sountrack to TF has Fleetwood Mac and Bob Dylan

I think Santi just loves music! He flies a lot so he spends time listening to full albums.

He doesn't have a lot of free time

Despite everyones teasing, he's not here to fuck pretty women. He's here to work.

Still, despite onl a few personal items he does have his guitar. Plays it a lot.

It does help with women

When he was a kid he thought he'd become a singer, he loves Vicente Ferdanez and Juan Gabriel

Alas, for a poor immigrant family Santi couldn't abandon them to persu wishy-washy dreams, he needed to work. Hence the military.

Still, it makes him happy when he sit and play guitar, watching people smile.

He learns songs from all his friends and families favorite bands.

William Miller

Will hates modern country.

Growing up in the yee haw south I think he hates what it's become

Was not upset when Tobey Keith died at all, think he ruined the genre in the post-9/11 nationalism

He enjoys thegrassroots rock movement (springsteen, melloncamp, petty) and the blues.

Him and Santiago both love Fleetwood Mac. It combines Santi's love of rock and Will's love of the blues.

Enjoys jazz but also classical music. He has more interest in the instruments than the lyrics of music anyway.

Him and Frankie both love love love Johnny Cash (who doesn't?)

Will loves suduko

He loves things that calm his mind.

Will likes sports, it was how him and Ben spent a lot of time on the farm.

To this day he likes going out to play ball with Ben. It helps Benny with his ADHD.

Benjamin Miller

Benny does not find tossing a ball around or playing basketball helps his ADHD at all

What he does find is that is helps Will's obbsessive obsessive worrying about him.

So, in that sense, Ben likes it because 1. it's fun and 2. it's a rare chance where he can help Will. Will doesn't let people help him much

Benny looooooves trash TV

The Bachelor, Love after Lockup, Love is Blind

He likes shows he doesn'thave to pay a whole lot of attentionto.

Not that Benny isn't smart bc I haaaaate when people act like he isn't.

But with his ADHD (which I hc he has) he tends to have a lot of things going at once. He's not going to be able to sit down and fully commit to something like The Handmaid's Tale.

Will go head to head on country music with Will and Frankie

he likes the bro country like Florida Goergia Line, Jason Aldean

No one ever accussed him of great taste, okay?

He's here for a good time, not a long time.

He doesn't like the racist or anti-lgbt artists and won't give them his money for concerts

But you can't fauly him for getting don to Red Solo Cup

Also loves classic hair metal (wore an AC/DC shirt most of the movie)

Francisco Morales

Frankie loves country music and grunge

His favorite Benny singing tho

Favorite is anything Chris Cornell and I'll stand by that!!!

Soundgarden, Audioslave, Temple of the Dog, his solo work

Frankie is a busy man, but I like to think he likes lego's

He's an enginier, so you know he's a smart man. I bet he loves making lego sets come together

Frankie has very strong opinions on children's television.

Bubble Guppies > Paw Patrol

Hates Paw Patrol but his daughter likes Skye becuase she's a hellicopter/pilot dog so he allows it.

Loves being out in nature. He's trying ot instill a love of the outdoors in his daughter, but also loves pending time with the guy, or even by himself

When he's overwhelmed, Frankie likes to go for a walks in the woods.

Will fuck up a farmers market all DAY

Oddly enjoys mowing the lawn

My man is Hank Hill

"Why would anyone do drugs hen they could just mow their lawn."

Now that he's sober, he finds lawncare is a great way to distract himself while still being a present father. He can do that while his daughter plays.

******************

thank you so much for the ask!!!! i love chatting about my boys <3

[witchthewriter]

𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆   𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄

Paid story for @yourwinchesterbros. Word Count: 3.1k Warnings: swears, SMUT no one under 18 read this please, i.e., rough sex

ᵐᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡⁱˢᵗ

Jax decided to drive both of you over to his place, pick the boys up and go to the park. You agreed, because … you didn’t really know what the boys liked to do. Jax found your anxiety a tiny bit humorous, only because you were so riled about it.

    “I mean, what if I say … the wrong thing and they hate me forever? I don’t want to be the evil stepmother!” You said while the two of you got dressed.

 “Babe, they’re not gonna think of you like that. I promise,” he said and gave you a peck on the cheek. Rolling your eyes, you zipped up your boots and went to feed your own two boys. They were waiting patiently at their bowls, both tails wagging when you made their food.

   With Jax in the shower, your mind wandered to all the things that could happen. Fuck, what if one of them gets hurt on my watch? You thought while placing the silver bowls on the ground.

You weren’t expecting things to go well. That’s just how your mind worked sometimes, okay ... all the time. Low expectations meant you couldn’t get hurt. That whatever went wrong was bound to happen anyway. Basically, you were a supporter of Murphy’s Law.

You were already dressed and waiting on Jax. So, you decided to do a bit of tidying up, which turned into cleaning and when Jax came out of the bathroom, he saw you with two gloves on, heavily scrubbing the benches.

   “Babe! It’ll be okay. They’re just kids-“ Jax had your face in his hands as he spoke, so you had nowhere else to look but in his eyes. Eyes that seemed to look straight through you. To see everything you were feeling.

It made your stomach flip. He truly believed his sons would somehow adore you. Just as he did. Oh, the folly of men.

You rode over to Jax's place on his bike and the whole way there you couldn't stop panicking. Children frightened you a little, but what you didn't realise was that Jax could feel your heartbeat through his back.

And at one point, he lightly slapped the side of your thigh. It was his way of trying to get you out of your own mind.

The ride felt shorter than usual and as you hopped off the bike and undid the helmet, you followed Jax up to the house. It was just like any other house. It was middle-class; clean, and well-maintained, even the lawn had been mowed. The mailbox stuck out to you, and you didn’t know why. Maybe it was because of how weird a biker in a gang would have such a normal, everyday, and mundane … thing. It wasn’t rusting or chipping either...unlike yours.

   With one knock to the door, Jax opened it and went inside. With you right behind him, he squeezed your hand once and went to find his boys.

Oh fuck, okay here we go, you thought, looking around the place. Hell, it was clean. Cleaner than your own home. Well, Jax would have hired a cleaner, or at least, Gemma would have. But if you ever moved in with him, would you still keep the cleaner around? Would Gemma still come around as often?

It was these weird thoughts that sometimes kept you up at night. Were they stupid thoughts? Over the top? Were you thinking too far ahead? Calm down, you thought to yourself. And tapped your thigh right where Jax had before.

  Your mind was snapped out of its cage when you heard the sound of heels on tiles. Holding a breath, you saw ...that Wendy wasn’t there. Unbeknownst to you, Jax had had a conversation with her the night before. It wasn’t a fun one either. But he did make things clear, as well as assure Wendy that her boys weren’t being taken from her.

  Gemma stood there with her arms crossed. Was she glowering at you? No, no she was sizing you up. Once again.

   “The way you handled Wendy the other night was pretty badass, Zoe.”

Some people would see that as a compliment but there was something sour in her words.

Before you could reply, Jax came out with two blonde-haired boys.

Abel and Thomas were hesitant as they clung to their father. All three had blonde hair, and the thought made you smile. For a split second, you wondered what coloured hair your baby with Jax would be, but instantly you scolded yourself. Don’t think so far ahead! you thought.

Abel was the easiest one to get along with, all you had to do was ask him about his toys and off he was, running around his house trying to drag you along, showing you all the different rooms and what he used them for.

   “And in that one we do number ones and number twos,” he said brightly while pointing to the toilet.

  “Whew, that’s good to know,” you responded with a laugh. Jax howled with laughter, while carrying Thomas close to his chest. Jax held onto Thomas, who didn’t want to leave his father’s arms. Not because he didn’t like this new stranger, no, he’d been around strangers all the time. It was just that right now he got all his father’s attention. Finally.

   “Isn’t that right, daddy?” Abel said with such innocent eyes.

“Absolutely,” Jax huffed, and scruffed his son’s hair.

   But he wasn’t done. Once Abel got someone’s attention, he had to keep it.

“And this…” he swung open the door, “is my bedroom!” He opened his arm in a ‘ta-da’ kind of way and then ran to his bed and jumped on it.

   “Woah man,” you said. Trying your best to be as interested as possible. And it was interesting to see the little knick-knacks in the toddlers room. It was blue, with shelves full of photos and race cars. And a LOT of miniature toy bikes.

   Jax followed you guys in and took in the picture before him. The three people he loved most in this world. His two beautiful boys. And the woman he’d been waiting for.

  “Hey, you guys wanna go to the park?” Jax said and both the boys screamed “yes!” Even Thomas let his excitement show.

Fuck Murphy’s Law, you thought. The sun was shining, warming everyone’s skin, not a cloud in the sky. The playground was empty except for the four of you, who were currently in a very serious game of tips. Abel was it, and he had to tap the closest person so then they would switch. In a child’s mind it was perfectly logical. But explaining it to Thomas was a bit of a challenge. He was just happy to cling to Jax.

  Whenever you looked over at Thomas, he buried himself further into his father’s chest. Almost covering himself with the kutte. God, if you weren’t seeing a lot of Jax, then these poor boys barely saw him. A pang of guilt hit you in the chest and you felt a little sick. You hadn’t even thought about the boys and what Jax meant to them.

“No, no ah!” You yelled as you ‘ran away’ from Abel (you couldn’t help but go easy on the kids. If it were with other adults … then your competitive nature would send you overboard.)

  Abel’s tanned arm reached out and tugged at your shirt. “Got you! Got you!” He screamed in delight, his little mouth curling in a big smile.

    “Zo is it!” Thomas babbled, giggling near his dad. The first time he acknowledged you. It made you beam. Maybe this was the reason people had kids … for some validation.

Looking at both boys, you curled your fingers, and you did your worst evil laugh. Abel screeched happily, jumping to the upper level, and running to the slide. Jax held Thomas’ hand and slowly ran away from you, hiding between the swings.

    “Ohhh, I’m gonna get you!” You said to Jax, who looked at you with a sly grin.

“I would like to see you try-“ he replied, trying his best to hold in a smile. Being suave wasn’t actually that easy. Especially while playing tips.

  But you took off, and without even moving, Jax let you jump onto his back and down to the ground. Abel and Thomas screamed in pure excitement.

   The little boys piled on top of you two, squealing and giggling, they could barely stay on top because they were so small.

    “We got you Dad!” Abel said, holding onto your back.

“Yeah, we dot you!” Thomas echoed, giving his father a kiss on the face.  He was going to be the sweetest thing on earth. You just knew.

Your things were sitting on the park bench not that far from the playground. But Jax didn’t hear his phone ring. He placed it in your bag and actually forgot about it.

   For once he wanted not to be interrupted, to have time true family time. Because he learnt from his past. And wasn’t going to make the same mistakes again.

  But that meant he missed a call. Well, a few calls actually. Ones that would change the course of club business.

  On the drive back home, you looked at Jax and spelled out “I-C-E-C-R-E-A-M?” He only responded with a deep belly laugh.

   “Yeah, I reckon we can do that.”

By the time the boys arrived home, their faces were covered in icecream and sprinkles. Much to Gemma’s dismay.

   “God, now they’re gonna be running on the roof,” she said with a huff. But you knew it was an act. She loved that the boys were spending time with their father.

   “It’s alright Ma, I’ll clean them up.”

“Yeah I know you will,” she said like a whip. Her hands on her hips as she led the four of you inside. She ran the bath, and although the boys were filthy, they both whined.

   “C’mon, Zo loves baths,” Jax said, adding bubbles and toys to the tub.

“Y-yeah, I do! They’re great!” You said enthusiastically, doing your best to persuade the two little grubs to get clean. They looked like the lost boys from Peter Pan.

  When the tub was full enough, the boys still wouldn’t get in. Both with crossed arms (Thomas just copying his brother), they refused.

     “I bet,” you said with an idea in your head, ”that you’ve never had a bath with your clothes … on.”

And their eyes lit up.

   Gemma rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“I mean a bath is a bath right?” You said to Jax, who looked at you with raised brows.

    “I mean … yeah.”

After the boys were cleaned, Gemma was almost adamant that the two of you leave. You could feel the ownership radiating off of her.

  Like leaving a lioness’ den, you got on the bike and Jax took you home. Gemma watched as you two sped off, and when she turned to go back inside, you could have sworn her tail followed.

  When Jax dropped you home, he finally looked at his phone. You could see the concern on his face, but something in you told you to back off. To give him some privacy. Hey, maybe it wasn’t club business for all you knew. Maybe it was a big day for him as well.

Barely giving you a kiss, he waited for you to walk inside and sped off.

The club business had Jax fired up. And when he got to your place, he harshly knocked on the door, then started pacing back and forth.

   “Coming,” you called, slipping on your pajama pants. Reaching the door, you yanked it open and saw a frazzled Jax Teller.

   “Shit,” you said plainly.

“Yeah, shit,” he said darkly.

Moving aside, he stalked in and did not take a seat.

  “Do you want a drink?” You said letting the door click closed.

“I- I don’t know,” he started pacing again, and you realised you were seeing the real Jax. The one that no one else saw. The one who did all his thinking by himself.

   “Yeah, I know what you need,” you said slightly wide-eyed. Half of you was worried for Jax, and the other half was … excited. Excited that your relationship had progressed to letting each other see one’s breakdown.

In the kitchen cabinet sat a heavy glass bottle of brown liquor. It was something that Skeeter had made at home. You tried it before, and one glass was the equivalent to four standard drinks.

Getting out your nicest drinking glass, you put in a few ice cubs and two shots of the liquor. Before closing the lid, you took a swig and scrunched your face in reaction. That shit was strong.

    “Here,” you said and sat down. Finally, he followed your lead.

For some reason, it was only now that he could take a deep breath. When you handed him the glass, Jax’s fingers lingered over your own, needing to feel your touch. It was then that he started to calm down. Down a step, then another.

 Jax drained the glass and looked at you with the hunger of a wild animal. Pure lust in his blue, glowing, eyes. Heat travelled from your face, down your neck and in between your thighs. Fuck.

  Prowling over to you, Jax picked you up with ease and laid you on the carpet floor. Your long hair now a messy crown around your head, the tv became background noise, as Jax became mesmerising in his pursuit of pleasure.  

Biting down on your neck, he claimed you as his. With his hands clutching you tight, moving your top further upwards, he kissed at the exposed flesh. Groaning at your taste. The smell of you turned him on, let alone how you looked, how you walked and talked. The whole of you was like a need for him. Sustenance, nourishment; he needed you.

 It was as if you both had that same thought. Jax needed Zo. And it was a race to have all of you.

With swift movements, he pushed your clothes from your body, grabbed ahold of you, and twisted you around. With your face to the ground, he pushed down your pants and ground against your bare ass.

   “Jax,” you whispered and in response all he did was growl. Fuck, you thought. You weren’t with Prince Charming tonight. He wrapped his hand around your neck and with his lips, pulled on your earlobe.

  Jax let go of you, only to undo his pants, and you started to move. But as quick as lightning, he pushed you back to the floor.

    “Don’t fucking move,” he roared and the heat between your legs turned to slick.  

 In a split second you were completely naked. You could feel the roughness of his beard between your legs, the warmth of his hands rubbing your thighs, his mouth was everywhere. All you could do was lay there, doing your best to slowly arch your ass closer and closer to his cock.

 Tonight Jax was full of aggression, of rage, of … tension. And he needed you. He hadn’t planned on having you face down on the ground, ass in the air. Such a pretty ass, he thought. And slapped it hard.

   “Ah!” You flicked your head towards him and your eyes grew red. Raising an eyebrow, he inclined his head.

  “No?” He grumbled. His voice was lower than usual. Gravelly, hoarse.

“Yes,” you said in a command. And an evil grin spread across his face. Within moments, your ass was red raw and it made your cunt even more sensitive.

    Seeing you in that position made Jax want to touch every part of you. His hands gripped your cheeks and spread them apart. You knew his face was centimetres away from your core because you could feel his hot breath against it.

  If it was any other night you would say something, but all you dared do was whine.

     “Shhhh,” he cooed, swiping his nose against the exposed flesh. Licking your folds, toying with your clit with one of his fingers.

  “You want me to fuck you?” He asked, almost entranced.

“Yes,” you whispered, and tried to move backwards, so his face was flush against you. At that, he laughed. But a hard hand slapped your ass again and you cried out.

    “I know you want me to fuck you…” and then his mouth was sucking on your cunt, his nose gliding up and down. “I know you do…” he murmured against you.

The tension in stomach was tightening and tightening, but you didn’t want to cum without him inside of you.

  “Jax-“ you whined, trying to get his attention. But he hands were firmly planted on your hips, his face completely buried in your ass, his fingers in your pussy, his mouth moving everywhere.

    “I’m gonna-“

“I know,” and then he undid his pants and let his hard cock spring free.

It didn’t start off slowly like it had the first time. No, this time around Jax was rough. He plunged himself into you, thrusting hard; in and out, in and out. The sound of his balls slapping your ass filled the room but you were too hazy to be embarrassed.

  “G-god,” you moaned loudly, letting his body pound into your own. Jax’s body was practically on top of yours, one hand around your throat, and the other around your middle, thrusting into you erratically.

“Fuck.” 

     “Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

    “What was that about.”

“The deal went through babe, I’m sorry – wait I didn’t hurt you did I?” Jax got up from the floor to look you over. Only a few hickies on your neck and breasts. Well, and some on your thighs.

 But you only laughed, a glint in your eye. Having his kneeling body right next to you was a sight to behold. Tanned all over, his hair messed, muscles bulging (may or may not have been flexing). He looked like a god. But to you, he was only a prince. Your prince.

   “I’m fine, Prince Charming, now go get me a blanket, I’m cold.”

“As you wish,” he said and got up, his cock dangling between his legs. You almost gasped. Yes, you were a mature grown woman, but seeing the male form always gave you a little shock. Especially a male form that had been inside you.

“I gotta talk to you about somethin’,” Jax’s voice was heavy and your stomach twisted.

    “…yeah?” You looked up at him and he sighed.

“I have to leave again, not as long as last time though. But I leave tonight.”

  You groaned and flopped back onto the floor. You had only just gotten him back.

“Hey baby,” he said with a smirk on his face, “at least you have somethin’ to masturbate over now.”

[anewnewcrest]

"I was fired again."

"Ashton, no! How did that happen?"

"Watcher-loving folk just have it so hard in this heathen society! I worked so hard, but they just hate that I'm strong in my faith! They fired me for praying!"

"You're being persecuted!"

"Yes!"

"It's so sad that good, strong young men like our Ashton can't keep jobs in this day and age! How will he ever get married! How will Acklay ever move out? If Ashton, who's always on his best behavior, can't get a job, Acklay will never get one, either! He'll be living at home forever!"

"Don't sweat it, mom, I've got a job."

"Acklay? What do you mean, you have a job?"

"At the company Uncle Nathan works at. I've been mowing lawns and carrying stones and all that stuff for the last couple of months. Pays really well, too."

"Why is this the first I find out about that? Have you asked your father for permission?"

"It's not like you care about what I do, anyway."

"Maybe you can give Ashton a reference? Mention him to your boss?"

"Absolutely not."

"Acklay! Don't be so ungrateful! You have to support your brother!"

"I don't want his stupid job, anyway. All that menial stuff is fine for Acklay, but it's beneath me!"

"Good luck with finding something, then, brother."

[animal-lover-forever]

Guys, I need advice.

(Putting a 'Keep reading' because there's a lot to read.)

My dad, I do love him... at least I think I do. Recently I've been wondering if this is true love I feel for him, or if it's love that I've been trained to feel.

When I was 12- well actually I was 11 but it was Sep. 19th- I moved in with my dad (Andrew) and stepmom (Amy) because my mom couldn't handle me anymore and desperately needed a break.

As a child with late diagnosed Autism, I couldn't get help to understand the world from professionals. Because of this, a lot of people didn't understand me, and I was often in a meltdown. It was pretty much guaranteed that I would at least have one meltdown if not 3+ a day.

Most of these meltdowns were at school. Why? Well, my body was essentially always in flight or fight mode- which is a big reason I didn't start making and keeping memories until I was a teen. But we will come back to this- when it came down to it, I would try flight first. I would often run into a closet at school but the teachers never liked that. "She can't be unsupervised." "There are things in there, like scissors, that she could get into and we can't have that." Because of this, they would often physically grab me and drag me out.

All Autistic people are different, but a lot of us show similar things, do similar things, and have similar triggers, ticks, and coping tricks. So here's a pro tip for interacting with someone with Autism. Do not touch us! Be sure to ask before you give us a hug, or a pat on the back, etc. A lot of us don't like to be touched, and touching us might just make things worse. Yes, it is human nature to want to touch someone who's not feeling well, who's sad or mad just so we can try to make them feel better. But do yourself, and them a favor by asking first!

Anyway, because they would grab me and drag me out, I was forced into fight mode. I would often try to run out of the room, but they often stopped me. And I hate feeling trapped! No, I do not have claustrophobia. I actually kinda like small spaces, hence the closets. But when I lock myself in a room, I feel safe. When someone else locks me in a room, I feel trapped. It doesn't matter how big the room is, if someone is keeping me in there, I feel trapped.

This was a recurring problem. And day after day, I wore my mom down and broke her. Because of my meltdowns, everyone around me would often leave. But my mom? She never did; she was always by my side no matter what... Until she wasn't. I was starting another meltdown, and my mom was threatening to call the cops on me because she was done. I didn't believe her; why would the one person who stayed by my side for 11 years suddenly leave me? But she did. They were going to put me in a mental hospital. My mom told my dad this, and he came down to get me.

My dad then proceeded to have me until I was 16. Because once I was 16, I made the decision to leave to go back to my mom for good.

He has three daughters, but I'm the only one to talk to him let alone be 500 feet around him. None of his family will talk to him, and if they do, it's a fight about something. I think the last time he talked with any of his family was about 4 years ago and it was a fight. His sister had died and he was fighting with his other sister over the phone. I am his only family besides Amy. So if Amy leaves, I'm the only one left.

My dad is broken. He has diabetes, heart and back problems, and many other things. He's not broken enough to not just sit on his ass all day. Yet that's what he says. He can't get a job because he can't sit for too long, he can't stand for too long, he can't drive, or walk for too long! He can't do anything for too long. But that's all he does all day is sit.

He often had me doing chores, okay fine, that's normal. But then he would start me on a new chore, like mowing the lawn. He said that we would take turns mowing every other time. But then he got sick and said that I had to do it but when he got better he would come back to help. But he never did. "You need to learn responsibility, so do it yourself."

I went from doing one chore to doing them all. I had to do the dishes, sweep the floor, mop the floor, take out the trash, clean up all the dog poop, vacuum the floor, rake the leaves, pick up all the bad apples that fell from the tree, scoop the dog poop outside, mowing the lawn, cleaning the lawn mower after mowing the lawn, cleaning the bathroom, cleaning the kitchen, cleaning the living room. Over time, my dad put all of his chores on me. I was no longer his daughter that was a resident in his home, but an object that my dad could use to get the chores done so he could fuck off all day. I had more chores than how old I was! And if I didn't do them right, I got yelled at.

He would often talk me down and be a dick to me. "Baby girl, you're fat. I'm not fat-shaming, I'm just telling you the truth, you're fat." He would say as he was fat-shaming me. "I'm teaching you life lessons! The world is full of assholes!" He would say as he was being the asshole. And he was big on manipulation.

I had separation anxiety from my mom. So I called her all the time. Especially once I moved in with my dad. However, over time, my separation anxiety went away, so I started to call and talk to her less and less near the end. Now that I'm with my mom again, I don't talk with my dad unless he starts the conversation. And the conversation always starts with "Why the fuck am I having to hunt you down again? You talked to your mom all the time! Why don't you talk to me?" Not true, near the end, my mom had to 'hunt me down' too.

He loves me, that I am sure of. He just doesn't know how to show it without hurting me. "You know I love you, Dax, right?" "Yeah, I know. I love you too, dad." "You know you're my favorite, baby girl, right?" "Yeah, I know. You tell me all the time."

When I think back on it, I have no happy memories of my dad. I have some that start out happy, but they all end in disaster at some point.

I-... I feel like I should cut contact with him. But I don't know if I should. If I do, what will he do to get contact back with me? Will he resent me because the last of his family- his daughter- left him? I honestly don't know what to do... Does anyone have advice? Do you guys think I should stay in contact with my dad? Or do you think I should drop contact with him?

[criminal-sen]

Went on a walk yesterday evening and wound up walking for an entire hour bc I got stuck going around this huge, privately owned... lawn??? that is owned by a funeral company. I always drive by it but never realized how huge it truly is.. it stretches like a fucking MILE and turns every other road in the surrounding neighborhood into a dead end cuz No Enter the special private grass

These are all different chunks of the thing and only a small fraction of its total area. Anyway it is my arch nemesis I hate it sm. Like no one uses it for anything!!!! Ever!!!! And it's WAY too much space to be for future grave plots. It seems to exist solely so ppl can mow it like wtf