#s'ok

[pine-needle-shuffle]

hmm I wonder if they're doing the halloween prompts again this year

[bisexualchrissycunningham]

My Chrissy the Mortician AU post breached containment and suddenly there are people mentioning sapphic Chrissy ships in the tags and I know I'm supposed to be cool with it, ship and let ship etc etc, but inside I'm cringing and shrieking dear God that's NOT what I meant!!!

This is what I get for not having an idea yet how Eddie would fit into that AU.

[p2ii]

happy new years everyone!!!

[sennenpharaoh]

@atlantis-prince /MWAHAHHAHAHA

Just... add to his conflicted forced feelings for his attacker the asshole king why don't you

[ozarkthedog]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

summary: the world crumbled before you could experience the touch of another. Joel does his best to keep you innocent for as long as he can.

pairing: Jackson!Joel Miller x afab virgin!reader.

warnings: 18+ mdni. established, undefined relationship. PUSSY RUBBING. fluids galore. just the tip. perv!joel. unspecified age gap. fingering. dirty talk. overstimulation. male masturbation. FEELS. Joel is a conflicted old man. reader is able bodied. no Ellie. w.c. 2.9k

an: i watched a porn clip and instantly went rabid thinking about jackson!joel.

-> follow up to a glimpse of heaven but it's not necessary to read the first part.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐬 ⋅ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Like most of Jackson, the house you share with Joel is quiet and calm when night falls. Rain softly patters against the window as you lie in bed, wide awake. Another night of fruitless sleep under your belt.

You huff irritatedly, your hand collapsing against the mattress as you bitterly kick your bedspread onto the floor. Your oversized shirt clings to your body, your skin dewy from the exertion, and you're close to crying. Your limbs are wrought and overworked after hours of touching yourself with no orgasm to show for it.

Your hand won't cut it; it isn't enough. It can't reach all those sensitive spots that make you float among the stars.

Warmth pools in your abdomen as you think of one that's the perfect size.

A hazy hue of yellow light pours under your bedroom door as it spills from the room across the hall.

Joel.

It takes a long time to get to know someone, but they tend to meld with your soul once you do in one way or another.

From the start, Joel was intimidating. He was so frayed around the edges that you were afraid he'd completely unravel in the middle of your journey. He didn't seem to care for your company as the two of you traveled across the plains to Jackson, hesitation poisoning every fiber of your being, but you kept on with the strange man since no one else was willing to trek across the states. You desperately needed a new life, a fresh start away from the Boston QZ, and Jackson sounded like the perfect spot.

Over time, Joel opened up, conversing little by little as you drove for miles across the now barren US. Usually, after you had a close call with raiders or the lone gunman, he'd go silent, the weight of protecting someone other than himself sinking further into his soul, consuming that much further.

What you never expected was for him to be your first touch.

Sweltering tension slowly grew like a wildfire. Catching each other's curious stares, lingering fingers, and salacious banter until, one night, he slid a cautious hand into your panties. He claimed your untouched sex when you confessed over a roaring fire and a bottle of whiskey that you'd never been with another. His weathered hands were gentle as he sunk his fingers into your core, watching with rabid fascination as you came for the first time, gasping from his touch.

The following day, as he drove you across the interstate with the sun slowly rising, he made sure you knew that wouldn't happen again. "I'm much too old. Don't wanna waste your time with a mean ol' grump like me."

You didn't bring it up again.

One month after settling into Jackson, picking bedrooms, and deciding who would do which chores, Joel had his first taste of you.

It wasn't supposed to happen.

You chewed your dinner slowly in the modestly sized dining room across from Joel. You were so lost in thought that he was concerned enough to ask what was wrong.

"What does it mean when a man eats you out?" you naively pondered, causing him to choke on his veggies.

Joel had never looked so red before as he took a long drink of whiskey. You instantly apologized, explaining that you overheard a group of women conversing while you tended the communal garden.

He raised a hand, curbing your frantic rambles. "S'ok. Figured you'd be learnin' things. Just didn' think I'd be the one you'd ask."

"But I trust you."

His jaw twitched at your words.  

Later that night, Joel fell to his knees at the edge of your bed and tossed your legs over his broad shoulders. "Never tasted a pussy so sweet," he mumbled against your glistening folds as you ran your fingers through his graying curls. You came multiple times on his tongue, grinding his whiskered jaw while he hungrily lapped at your soaked folds like he was dying of thirst.

You didn't bring it up again.

It's warmer in Jackson now. The sun hangs longer in the sky. Snow boots and jackets are stowed away until the next freeze.

You slink from the warmth of your bed and pad sockless across the hall. Lightening flickers brightly under the starry sky. The night rain storm slowly whirls through the city, soaking everything in its path.

Joel's door is open. A soft smile tugs at your lips; it's his way of saying he's still up. He keeps it ajar while he reads before rolling onto his side and bidding goodnight to the world.

Three soft knocks alert Joel from the guitar-building manual he's currently reading. Dread clouds his mind for a moment, wondering why you'd be knocking on his door at this time of night, but he takes a deep breath and grounds himself in the softness of his bed.

"Yeah?" he calls out. His tone is rough around the edges after a long day on patrol.

You poke your head around the door with a timid smirk. He looks at you over his reading glasses before marking his spot and laying his book on the side table.

You don't say anything as you stride into his room. He notices your oversized shirt swaying at your knees before you climb into his bed and curl against his side like a cat. 

He drapes an arm around your shoulder, unconsciously pulling you closer.

"'Nother bad dream?" he questions with a low rumble.

You shake your head. "Can't sleep."

You nuzzle your face into the crook of his shoulder and feel him nod, understanding the endless struggle for a night of peaceful sleep. It's improved since moving to Jackson, but the dreams never end.

Silence fills the bedroom except for the soft pitter-patter of rain against the roof. Joel leans against the headboard, sighs through his nose, and lets his thoughts drift. He's content to sit with you in his arms for as long as possible, even if that makes him selfish.

He wonders if you hope to find someone to settle down with, someone less ridged and mentally maimed, someone less him.

The thought drives a stake through his heart.

He'd be crazy to say he didn't love being around you. Your laugh and lopsided smile took the first brick out of his impenetrable fortress when you spied a deer and her calf frolicking in an open field in Kansas. From then on, it became easier for him to let his walls down.

When you came to him with those big doe eyes and urges about wanting to know what it's like to be touched and desired, he gave in each time despite his reasoning.

He would masturbate each time after getting his hands on you, also thinking about the early days when he'd catch glimpses of you changing or the time he first saw you naked while showering at the YMCA. 

He's still trying to figure out what to make of you. Friends? Lovers? He certainly didn't mean to fall head over heels. Love had no place in his heart, but he'd be a fool to say he wasn't extremely fond of you.

"Can you make me feel good again?" your lithe voice broke the silence.

Joel stops breathing. Your question doused him like a cold bucket of water. He knew this would come back and haunt him.

His hand curls tight around your shoulder as he wrestles with the devil on his shoulder. "Told ya we shouldn't keep doin' this, Sweetheart," he reasons, trying not to break your heart.

"But I can't make myself feel as good as when you've done it. I've tried!" You whine, burying your face into his chest.

"S'not that I don't wanna," he admits, soothing your soft cries. "S'just, you're too precious to do that wit' someone like me."

You lift your head and brazenly brush your lips against the exposed skin of his collarbone, earning a low groan as he curls a large hand around the back of your neck. He tugs you away from his skin, your lips still forming a tight 'O', and pins you with a stern gaze.

"Joel, it hurts." Your watery eyes and trembling bottom lip are his downfall.

"Lay back, Sweetheart, and spread your legs," he orders with a husky tone.

You don't make a noise; too afraid he'll stop if you do. Your cunt beats against the gusset of your panties as you lay on your back, spreading and bending both legs at the knee, just like he taught you.

A warm breath fans down your face as he shifts down your body before kneeling between your legs and tracing teasing fingers over your covered mound. His nails lightly scratch along the worn cotton, making you suck in a frantic breath. He slips a practiced hand beneath the crotch of your panties and deftly explores your folds, gently rubbing small circles on your clit after wetting his fingers with the arousal that's pouring from your cunt.

"Oh, she's achin' real bad, huh?" he groans as your opening clenches beneath his wandering touch.

"Joel, please, I need-" You gasp, hips wantonly grinding against his hand, desperate for any type of friction.

The muscles in his jaw ache. It's only natural you'd be wanting more.

Before he thinks twice, Joel draws his cock out from his sweatpants. Your stomach cramps at the sight as it smacks against his belly; he's massive.

His cock hangs heavy between his thighs like a solid, dangerous threat. It weeps from the dusky tip, shiny liquid dripping from the crown as he squeezes his hand around the girthy base peppered with dark gray, wiry hair.

"Got somethin' that'll make you feel good, sweet girl." he grits, tapping his cock against the covered crux of your pussy. It thwaps devastatingly against your clit, forcing a gasp from your lips as mind-numbing pleasure races up your spine and leaves you staring dumbly up at him.

"S'that what you need? Need my cock to keep 'er from achin so bad'?" his cock is searing as it lies in wait atop your panty-clad mound. You swear you can feel his blood pumping steadily into his shaft.

He cautiously thrusts his hips, sliding his length along your cotton-covered mound. Your slick arousal seeps thru the material, wetting the thin cotton and creating a sensuous touch as he glides along your cunt.

He shoves your shirt up over your chest, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. He licks his lips, "Such'a beauty."

Your cheeks flame at his words. Having such a man say things about you makes you lightheaded.

Joel groans as your panties practically are now see-through from your combined fluids staining the cotton, "Oh, baby." You whine at his pet name. "I got ya. Keep those legs open, just like I taught ya. S'good girl."

He keeps a steady pace, sawing back and forth over your extremely soaked mound. Your puffy pussy lips stick to the soaked cotton, leaving nothing to Joel's imagination. He glides easily along your slit, your juices smoothing his path until your arching your back and chanting his name like a prayer.

Watching you orgasm under his touch is enough to drive him wild. He throws all sense of logic out the window. He's okay with being selfish again.

"Let's get these off, yeah." He hooks two fingers under the elastic and slides your panties off before his words register in your euphoric haze. "Feel even better without 'em."

He swallows hard at the sight laid out before him. The sheets splay and curve around your naked body, making you look like an ethereal being sent to test his limits.

"Gonna give 'er a kiss, Sweetheart," his deep timbre vibrates your body as he draws close and touches the bulbous tip of his cock to your exposed folds. Blood rushes to your cunt instantly, bordering on the edge of pain. You cry out from the intense contact, and arousal slips freely down your crack as he traces his cockhead up and down your soaked slit.

"How's she feel?" He anchors his head, looking down at you from under his lashes.

"S'nice," you half whisper, half moan. The wanton bliss slowly consumes you the more he rubs against your sticky folds, keeping a hand locked around his girthy base, his crown glistening with your combined arousal.

Your eyes tear open, back arching like a bow, when he cants his hips and taps his cock square in the center of your cunt.

"M'not gonna fuck you, sweet girl, wanna keep you whole," he declares, holding true to his word despite the overwhelming need to claim you.

He can't be the one to sully you. "Ain' much left'a this world that's as sweet n' pure as you."

Your core quivers as his dusky, throbbing crown glides along your glistening seam. He tentatively explores uncharted areas, brows furrowed with concentration, fighting with inner demons who want to claim, corrupt, and mold you for only his touch.

His name leaves your lips with a mess of desperate, frustrated moans, "Please, Joel."

He snaps out of his haze. He's done almost everything he can to keep you safe and protected in this new way of life. He'll be damned if he doesn't grant you anything you ask for.

"S'hurtin' somethin' fierce, huh?" He grunts, angling his hips until his cock lines up with your fluttering hole. "Bet she needs somethin' big'er than fingers to ease 'er throbbin'."

His cock catches on your opening, forcing a hiss through his clenched teeth. As tight as you are, he can't stop from pushing into your warmth. He blocks out any sense of reasoning that's shouting from the back of his mind as he slowly nudges his cock into your weeping, inviting hole.

Joel goes brain-dumb momentarily, watching in immoral awe as your core ever so slowly swallows his fat tip and breaches your quivering hole, forcing a raspy whine from your throat.

So warm, safe, and wet.

Joel's never felt anything like you. He wants to bury himself, slide his cock as deep as he can, claim every inch, endlessly fill you with his cum, and keep you only for him.

You frantically reach for him, hands clutching the air as he rubs a callous thumb over your clit while keeping a steady hold on the base of his cock.

"S'all she's gonna get," he states, returning to his senses and hissing when your cunt tightens. "S'just the tip."

A soft begging whine bubbles from your lips as you extend your arms, needing something solid to hold before latching onto his wrists.

Your hips move on their own, desperate to feel his length completely shunted in your velvet warmth, but brute hands envelop your hips and pin them to the bed.

He shakes his head, salt and pepper curls fraying across his forehead. "Don' be greedy now." He tuts, narrowing his gaze down at you.

A garbled mess of nonsense tumbles from your lips as your fingernails dig into his muscular, hairy forearms.

"I know. S'big, huh?" He lands a solemn thumb on your clit, rubbing tender circles around the tiny bud. "Stay wit' me, sweet girl. Wanna feel you come on my cock."

Your mind spins. It's all too much, and yet, not enough. Your head tosses from side to side, and you're frantic to survive, breathing hard and fast, waiting for the drop to come and, at the same time, never wanting it to come.

"Don't I deserve it? Keepin' you safe all this time." Joel muses, stroking his cock in time with his teasing thumb. His eyes never leave where he's splitting you open. He's barely penetrating you, but it's enough to know if he had, you'd be struggling to take him.

"Come on, Sweetheart. Let go f'me," he urges, his touch growing faster. Severe, tightly drawn circles tease you closer to the edge.

Your stomach flips. A heaviness settles in your throat, your heart lodging in the tight confines, your blood pumping faster and faster. A lithe whine slithers free, escaping into the dimly lit room and burrows into Joel's mind.

His jaw clenches, and a dark growl rumbles from his chest, "Thatta' girl. Make'a fuckin' mess'a me."

Your dripping hole quivers and throbs around his swollen tip as you come with a silent scream, body locking taut, trying its best to engulf his length entirely.

Joel curses, jerking his length with long, steady tugs and rubbing his weeping, cream-covered tip around your soaked folds before his spine goes straight, and he yanks his cock from your core, curling in on himself and spilling his seed all over your belly with a deep, gravelly moan.

You sag into his sheets, spent with a shiny thin layer of dew and white ropes of spend painted across your abdomen.

"Shit." Joel curses, breathing heavily as he holds himself by his hands, which press into the mattress by your head, keeping you locked beneath him.

You hold his studious gaze. His dark eyes ruminate, tinged with mood, as his gaze drills down into your very core, threatening to demolish your soul. You resign that this was nothing special. Just another night you won't talk about again.  

Joel eases off of you with a grunt, his bones aching from the tension despite the brief, pleasurable relief, and tucks his cock back away into his sweatpants. He shuffles to the bathroom momentarily before returning with a damp washcloth.

He wipes the cloth over your belly and between your thighs, cleaning the combined arousal from your skin before chucking the rag into the hamper with a sigh.

"I know," you mutter, grimacing as you roll onto your side and sit up, tugging your shirt down. "I won't mention it again."

A solid, warm hand on your shoulder stops your retreat. "Stay," Joel whispers with soft, yearning eyes. "I wan' you to stay, sweet girl."

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

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

[necrobatty]

I'll work on them eventually. some more kissing OC prompt but it's awful vampire demon stuff instead - wip sketch version

[starsvein]

"A commander of a ship is typically referred to as a captain," Veoc explains patiently. "It differs from my formal rank in the military as major general."

"As for what else I'd like to know..." he trails off in thought.

"Then I suppose asking you about who directs your tasks might be insightful. Is there any authority you follow, or are you born to guide instinctively?"

That was alt least something she could agree upon as he speaks about it, experiences being different in person than if read or spoken about. Of course, that's a big thing about it though, such experiences making themselves available to one's self. The one's for her might differ then his.

"Captain? How curious, you and Adam both share the same rank, or title, both work correctly for such a thing right? Although, so far you both are vastly different."

She hums out in thought as another question comes to mind, and yet it should be his turn to ask something about her.

"What else is there that you wish to know?"

[sabanmoon]

i wish prince eric was black, asian, or indian, in this new little mermaid movie.

[cyberm4n]

alastor and lucifer sharing you pt 2!

(i tagged people who commented asking for part 2 but lmk if you want to be untagged)

pt1, pt3

tags: @lu-ferri12 @my-anime-garden @princessdreamss @polytheatrix

cw: explicit smut, not thoroughly proofread, lucifer has a daddy kink, still in a hinge type relationship, hints to radioapple if you squint

other: i wrote part of this while very high so if there's a random perspective change just know i was cooking so hard with writing that i forgot to write in 2nd person pov

■ let's be honest neither of them are particularly interested in the other halfs involvement in this equation

■ but it's incredibly hard to deny that they work well together with you in the bedroom

■ when they want to, of course.

■ so there's a silent agreement between them that they usually put their beef aside cause like. they have you atleast.

■ i think alastor would still want to be close though, so most often your head is laid in his lap or he's touching you somehow

■ but there is a VERY strict line of sight he follows because depending on what exactly is going on this position makes it far too easy for the two men to just be staring at each other and that is 100% a no go for them

■ which i mean, fair enough

■ lucifer does tend to get a little possessive on the rare occasion alastor decides he wants to participate a little

"oh sweetheart, daddy is making you feel so good, right?" he would coo at you as he bullies his cock into you again.

alastor, tilting your head back with his hand, claws scraping at the soft skin of your neck. a good portion of your upper body is laid out on him, his other hand pinning your arm down.

"eyes on me, darling" he'd say, only for lucifer to give a particularly rough thrust, trying to get your attention back.

the main ground rule you had set is that they were not allowed to bicker with each other during intimate moments, so after a whine escapes your throat the two set it aside. for now.

■ i feel like alastor is strictly a dom, especially considering most of the time he's not really physically participating

■ lucifer id say is more of a service top. he wants you to feel good and he wants to know how good you feel.

■ i think he'd bottom if you really wanted him too but like only if he gets to make you feel good yk

■ alastor does particularly enjoy watching lcuifer go down on you, seeing you writhe in pleasure and moan so sweetly is like music to his ears.

■ he'd love to broadcast this

■ there is sometimes alastor takes a complete backseat though

■ maybe he's not in the mood or just wanting a different angle

■ so that's how you ended up riding lucifer while alastor gleefully watches from a chair beside the bed

"s'ok princess, you can do it" lucifer would say, hands on your hips as he guides you down on his cock. you squirm and whimper as he stretches you open.

with his guidance you start gently grinding your hips down, and lucifer lulls his head back, sweet praises falling out of his mouth.

"fuck.. that's it. ride daddy's cock. you're such a good girl" he'd moan as he rubs your clit. it's not long before he gets impatient though, wanting to hear more moans coming out of his pretty girl, hands returning to your hips as he bucks into you.

"you like it when he watches?" lucifer practically growls, hips thrusting up harder now. "cmon baby, talk to me" he'd gently tut, slowing down to such a painfully slow pace.

you're practically reduced to nothing, giving a weak moan, both of their smiles growing wider. "such a good duckling, letting daddy get his fill. gonna fill you up princess" lucifer says as he pulls you in for a sloppy kiss, another thing lucifer loved to do.

■ alastor has never been a fan of the more personalized petnames lucifer calls you

■ "duckling" "ducky" "doll"

■ but he has some of his own

you're on your knees in alastors radio tower, the very rare occasion lucifer just isnt feeling up to it. he's never been a big fan of receiving head, and he's just not feeling it today, comfortably sat in a chair.

alastor on the other hand, his hands are wound tight into your hair as you suck him off. "oh my sweet doe, so desperate to please" alastor would purr, feeling your tongue swirl around his cock.

"i understand why you... indulge so often. our little pet is such a people pleaser, isn't she?" he'd chime to lucifer, who doesn't respond, not really atleast.

■ but aftercare

■ oh aftercare from these two is amazing

■ the only time they firmly agree with each other and leave everything else behind is during after care.

■ it doesn't matter which of them you want or what you want they're gonna make it happen

■ if you want both of them that's great! and they definitely won't get mildy possessive of you at all!!

■ lucifer is definitely a big cuddler

■ and i feel like alastor would be about praise and affirmations, especially after playing "bad cop" the whole time.

■ not that he minds that, mind you.

"darling you were amazing, im so proud of you" he'd say in a much gentler tone, stroking your hair as you lay on lucifers chest, whos pressing soft kisses across your face.

lucifers hands trace soft circles on your back as they both murmur affections to you, and when you finally slump your forehead to lucifers shoulder, they both breathe out a smile.

if he's feeling particularly charitable, lucifer will nod to alastor to take you, to cuddle with you. most of the time alastor declines respectfully, still not really prone to expose himself to touch.

but on the rare occasion he takes the offer, switching places as he cuddles into you, lucifer cracks a little smile.

they really do make a good team, don't they?

[kiwiiooopuff]

So so down bad for hubby di Leon... Like... he got me moaning his name type of down bad (please excuse the horrible writing, im trying to make myself come out of a major writer's block LOL-) I can truly just imagine after a long 3 days of being away to take care of another bioterrorism incident, heading back home to his lovely wife, you, he'd immediately melt into your arms when he sees you opening the door for him the minute he pulls into the drive way of your shared home. Pulling you in close by the waist, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck and inhaling your scent as he leaves soft kisses onto the skin, rambling about how much he had missed you while he was away...

But oh, with those three days of being away? You already know he's pent up because he can barely even keep his hands to himself after he puts his things away, because not even 7 minutes in of him arriving home, he's already got you on the bed, on all fours as he carefully shoves himself into you with a guttural moan. "Oh fuck... that's it sweetheart, you missed this huh? S'ok, missed you too... s'fuckin much..." Smiling against your shoulder blades as he listens to your little gasps and whimpers when he starts moving his cock with his thumb going to rub your clit, "Such a sweet little thing aren't you...? Shit... squeezing 'round me so tight... might just cum a little early, but you'd like that right? My pretty housewife... always so good to me..." You can't help but squirm and fuck yourself back onto him, making Leon throw his head back in pure bliss and chuckle breathlessly. His poor baby, just as deprived of his loving as much as he was for yours.

(Ugh i dunno how you other writers do it, i got lazy in the middle of writing this haha... </3)

[rinnysmuses]

"...Agreed," Rhea murmured, sitting on a seat. "I'm really worried about what their motives could be. And it's, honestly, a bit scary. What if they attack the city again? Break through the aethershield? What...What happens then? When we're not prepared."

She sighed sadly.

"And Hyth has been tasking Ashe with trying to find these people out in the wild and... It's all around stupid."

He shook his head, hugging and patting Ari some more. "If they are a group, it only makes their motives all the more difficult to discern-- not least because they may have differing ones. Nobody's come forward with explanations or demands yet..."

[readingwritingstuff]

Daryl Dixon and the Five Love Languages

Part One: Gift Giving

A/N: I'm only writing up to Alexandria because that's all I feel like writing up to! Love the whole show but in my head, everyone lives happily ever after in Alexandria <3

The Quarry

At the quarry, Daryl's distant. Very distant. Fitting in with the group doesn't matter as long as he has his brother by his side. When you show up, wide-eyed and jumpy from your time stranded on your own in the city, it doesn't affect him much. Even if he does find himself studying you from time to time, wondering how such a doe eyed scared kid survived out there

But you're not a kid, something Daryl learns very quickly. You're in your twenties, sure, but the look in your eyes the first time you kill a snake and bring it into camp for dinner...it reminds him of something older. Of something harder. Darker in a way some twenty something from the city shouldn't know. You don't even know how to cook the snake. But you sling it over your arm and, to his surprise, walk up to him and ask him point blank, "do you know how to cook this?" He does. He shows you. And you aren't scared to grip the carcass and rip back when he tells you too, exposing the meaty insides. You finish up, and when you bit into it at dinner, you smile at him and, through a mouthful of snake, thank him

That night, after dinner, he sneaks over to your tent, expecting to find you asleep. But you're not. You're up, digging snake meat out from under your nails with the tip of a knife. You wince and jerk it back when you dig a bit too deep, but when he walks up, you assure him you're fine. You grin up at him, so happy and you ask if he enjoyed his dinner

For a moment, Daryl sees who you might have been before. Bright, content maybe. Rare. Most people, people Daryl knew in his world and the people out in the city, they were never fully content. But there you were, smiling up at him like snake meat was a five-course meal. He cleared his throat and shrugged, "s'ok" he murmured, rolling the item in his hand back and forth. You notice, because of course you do. "Whatcha got?" you smile, and he holds his hand out

"Always get ta keep your first rattle off a snake," he says as you take it, eyes sparking like it was jewelry or roses or whatever the hell girls like you were supposed to be happy about

You thank him, and he can tell you mean it. He shrugs it off, turns, he leaves you standing next to your tent and he tells himself he doesn't care if it made you smile. If he made you smile. Only that it was your rattle, your kill. Fair for you to have it. And if it made you smile, well. That wasn't a bad thing.

The Farm

It's stupid. He knows it's stupid, but he passes the same damn field every time he leaves the farm to look for Sophia. And it's flowers. Yellow ones with red centers. And one day when he's passing by he sees the yellow and it reminds him of the scales on that damn snake you killed. And then, no matter how much he tries not to, he can't help but think of you every damn time he passes that flower field

So even though he knows how dumb it is, he stops to pick flowers. He picks a dozen or so. He even ties them together with a long piece of grass. He scoffs at it, he can't help but hear Merle's voice in his head telling him what a pansy he is. Then he wonders if you like pansies

He hangs onto it for the rest of the day, shoves it in his tent, he convinces himself he won't give it to you.

And then he hears you head to your tent, and something sounds off. He listens in, even if he isn't totally sure why he's doing it. Carol's following you, and she's telling you it'll be alright. The sounds of your footfalls quieting, and he hears you pause. "What's the point Carol? Nobody here listens to me." Carol shushed you, and Daryl shifted up in his tent to listen closer. "I'm not a mother. I'm not a sheriff or a deputy. I'm not anybody who had something to fight for before all this besides myself. And yeah! Maybe I like pretty things and I like to take a second here and fucking there to think about something else. But Shane had no right to say that shit to me. Not that it matters, not that any of this shit matters," you laugh, and it's such a broken, awful sound that Daryl cringes. Carol follows you, and Daryl hopes she can say something to you that means something. That'll help cool whatever fire Shane lit under you. Shane. What the hell had that asshole said to you? He made a note to himself to listen more when that asshole was around you, to see just what the hell he thought that had gotten you this worked up

He stays up for a while later, long enough to hear Carol pass by his tent and head up to the RV with the others. You don't camp up there, you don't like how cramped it is. You camp out past even where he thinks is far enough away. He thinks about it, long and hard, but eventually, when camp is quiet and he's sure no one will see him, he grabs the flowers and slips out of his tent

He leaves them in front of your tent, not pausing as he does. He doesn't want you to see him, doesn't want to look into your doe eyes if they're full of tears and he doesn't have a damn thing to say to make it better. But he has this. He has these stupid flowers. So he drops them in front of the zip to your tent, heads back, and tries not to think about it again

But the next day he catches your eye over the fire, and he blinks at the flower you have tucked behind your ear. You cant know, there's no way you could. But you look at him with a quiet, small smile, and you mouth the words thank you. He shrugs, like he doesn't know what you're talking about. But you know, and he knows you know. And that feels pretty good.

On the Road

Being on the move agrees with you. It doesn't agree with anybody else in the group, but you do okay. Daryl wouldn't say it out loud, but watching you watch the world makes things better. No day is easy, but watching you stop to admire a stream or stare into the sunset when camp was made for the day, it softens things, if only by a bit

When you stop to admire a spiderweb one day, he feels something raw clench in his chest. You turn to him, noticing his stare. You're dirty, hair tangled even though he's seen you rake your fingers through it at night in an attempt to manage it. You smile and point how intricate the web is. How hard something so small must have worked to build something so beautiful. He shifts on his feet, and before he can think better of it, he pulls out the tacky, plastic spider ring he picked up back on the main road. It's scuffed and chipped, like some kid had thrown it from the car. He liked to think that maybe the kid had been dangling his hand over the edge of the window and it slipped off. Maybe the kid had thrown a fit. An awful afternoon for the parents, but a normal one. And maybe that's why he grabbed the ring out of the dirt, just to hold something normal for a second

He holds it out to you, and he shifts on his feet, but he doesn't leave when you take it this time. "You like this kinda stuff, huh?" he gestures to the spider web, "small stuff."

You nod and take the ring, looking at it, inspecting it, "small stuff's worth noticing Daryl. It's the only stuff that's ever been worth noticing."

And then you do something he doesn't expect. You bounce up on your toes and kiss his check, quick and simple. "Thank you Daryl, really." He stills, the spot where your lips had been was burning, and he blinks at you as you turn to follow the group, he doesn't miss you slipping the ring onto your pinky finger. Daryl Dixon does not blush. Not ever. Not once. But he did duck his head then, letting his overgrown hair fall in front of his face, so no one would see if he did. Just in case.

The Prison

It's the first time he looks for something for you. He doesn't realize he's doing it at first. But he and a few others from the prison stumble onto an abandoned strip mall. It's beat to hell, but there are only a few walkers inside. They can't pass up the opportunity, so they clear it, and set the rest of the day for scavenging

Daryl isn't thinking about finding a jewelry store. He's thinking about food, medicine, the shit he's supposed to think about out here. But he passes it, and he stops. He wants to keep moving, but he freezes up and combs it with his eyes. The cage that had been pulled down on it is open wide enough to crawl through at the bottom, and he can see how empty the spot is. It's too easy

So, against his better judgement, he drops to the floor and crawls inside

He grabs a few things. A silver band bracelet for Carol, a pair of clip-on earrings he thinks Judith might like when she gets older, and for you...a charm bracelet

It's laying on the floor, like someone had dropped it and forgotten it there. It has a few different charms on it. A horse, a star, a moon, but the part that really solidifies it as yours is the spiderweb charm. It's out of place, admittedly. But it's silver and shiny and it has a tiny gemstone spider right in the middle

He doesn't give it to you for a while. He gives the other bracelet to Carol, and he gives the earrings to Rick for safe keeping. But the bracelet feels too personal. He's starting to regret grabbing it when you swing by his cell one night

You're holding a plate full of food, and he frowns, realizing he'd been so caught up on watch earlier that he'd missed dinner without realizing. But you noticed. You always noticed. He coughs, and not for the first time that day, he reaches into his pocket to toy with the charms. But he forces himself to do it this time. "Here," he says, holding it out. You shift the plate, then give up on holding it and gesture for Daryl to take it. It's an awkward exchange, and Daryl feels himself redden at how un-smooth this is. But you smile down at the bracelet in your hand and, without a word, step forward and hug him

You're warm. Warmer than anything he's felt in a long time. He doesn't expect himself to do it, but he lifts a hesitant arm and wraps it around you, too. You pull him tight and, your voice full of something that sounds softer and kinder than he thinks he'd ever deserve to hear from you, you thank him and say quietly, "you see me, Daryl. Maybe better than anybody else ever has."

And then you're gone, taking your warmth and your kind words and your bracelet with you, and he's left standing there in his cell with a plate full of food and the distinct impression that you maybe you're beginning to see him, too.

The Woods

Things are bad when you lose the prison. You make it out with Daryl and Beth, and the three of you do what you can to keep going. But Beth's a kid, and Daryl is a man who'd finally found a home, only to lose it in a hail of blood and gunfire, and you? You just feel lost

Daryl lost it at that damn cabin. So close to what he'd lived in before all this, to what he'd been before all this, that everything that had happened finally slammed into him full force. The moonshine hadn't helped. And he'd said shit to you and Beth he wished he could take back

You all talk after, when things calm down, and when Beth suggests burning that shithole down you're more than up for it. And as the three of you stand there, burning the past and all its evils with it, Daryl feels lighter than he has in a long time

After that, it gets easier for him to show how he feels about you, even if he isn't sure what exactly that is

He gives you some of his portion at dinner, no matter how much you argue. He gives you little thing he finds as you walk, pretty stones and bird feathers and sometimes, sometimes he just points things out. The way the sun turns everything gold as it rises, the way dew clings to everything in the morning, turning it wet and cool with relief, a respite from the heat, and, of course, how it clings to spiderwebs, turning them into catchers of little water droplet gems. You always stop, no matter how tired you are or how long you'd walked that day, and admire it. At a certain point, Daryl realizes that while you're busy admiring the world, he's busy admiring you.

Alexandria

It's been a long, long time since he's felt nervous to give you something

You've been in Alexandria for years now. Things are good, really good. For the first time in a long time the future is beginning to feel real. When you'd arrived, you'd clung to each other. This place was too good to be real and you both knew it

And yeah, you'd been right. The place had seen its share of blood and destruction. The picture perfect idea the founders of this place had wasn't realistic. But what you built it into? What you created from the remnants of the destruction there? That was real. And now, after all the blood and death, you and Daryl Dixon were together in a way he'd wanted for a long, long time

Things had grown slowly for years, since the very first time he'd seen that look in your eyes, that drive. Since you'd smiled at him when he gave you that first gift, that rattle. He'd known it somewhere deep inside him that he loved you differently than he loved the others. You were something to him, something he didn't know how to have

But you showed him, every day you showed him how try. How to try to be together in this new world and how to try to leave the ghosts of the old one far behind, and now, now he wants to set down roots with you, to look you in the eyes and tell you exactly what it means to be in this place with you, with a future that feels solid and yours

So when he finds a ring, the ring, he knows it's time. He'd found it in the woods. He didn't want to know how it had gotten there. Didn't want to think about who had worn it before. Because before didn't matter anymore. All that matters is here and now and the fact that it's, to his best guess, your size, and unique in a way he knows you like

So he cleans it up, the simple band and pointed gem scrubbed clean with water and a little soap. He doesn't wait, not when he knows with such certainty where it needs to be

It's like any other night. He comes back from his run, the freshly cleaned ring sitting snug in his pocket. You're in the kitchen, the smell of food from the garden mixing with some of the spices he'd brought you a run all mixing together to make the whole place feel warm. And that's how you feel to him, warmer than anything in the world. Daryl never wants to be cold again

He helps you with dinner. You eat together, clean up, share stories from your day. It's normal. It's perfect. And when you stand from the couch at the end of a long night, Daryl stops you. He's looking at you with this stare, the one you know means he's sorting through the words to tell you something

And he wants to, he does. He wants to tell you that he loves you more than anything in the world, that knowing you, being with you, it makes a world of the dead feel alive again. But you know him, you know that look in his eye, and you aren't all that oblivious either. You'd felt the way he'd rubbed his thumb over your ring finger the past few nights in bed, like he was trying to memorize it. And you'd known he'd been listening when you were talking to the newlyweds down the street, listening in his easy, casual way, yes, but listening with a look in his eye that said something more than words ever could

And so, before he ever gets a chance to pull out the ring and get down a knee properly, how he knew he wanted to, how he knew you deserved, you leaned in and press a warm, gentle kiss to his mouth and say, with absolute certainty of your love for the archer before you

"Yes."

[ozarkthedog]

𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚

summary: Joel Miller loves how responsive you are.

warnings: 18+ mdni. feral!joel miller x afab!reader. smut. feels. dirty talk. pussy & cock pronouns. Joel calls himself “Daddy” one time.

word count: 867

author's note: idk what this is. it probably doesn't make sense but i'm posting it anyways so i can work on other things. xo.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐬 ⋅ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Joel Miller loves how responsive you are.

He's being a tease, but with the unholy moans he is pulling from your lips, he can't seem to stop. All of your airy gasps and desperate whines make every inch of his cock throb.

"He makin' you feel good?" Joel asks, kissing the underside of your jaw, scraping his graying scruff along the soft skin. "With all those pretty noises, he must be."

You clutch your limbs around his broad, sun-kissed shoulders and sturdy abdomen as he devastatingly fucks you into his matress, forcing you to cling to him for support as he saws his hips back and forth.

An intoxicating thrill of power surges. Joel's lips quirk, tugging into a grin. It's selfish, but he loves how much you depend on him.

"Thatta girl, takin' e'ery inch just like I knew you could." he husks, enjoying the shiver his praise gives you.

Every shove of his hips leaves you breathless and panting. It's as if each thrust is your very first. Joel splitting you open, for him and only him.

Your 'O' shaped lips, the way your brows pinch above your wary eyes, and the delicate mewls set him ablaze. Joel wonders if he should be concerned with how much he wants to wring every sound from those pretty lips, which are still swollen from earlier in the night.

As you sat naked between his thighs, swallowing his cock, your muffled moans were enough to have him leaking over your tongue. The way your hands curled around his thick, hairy thighs like you couldn't get enough, forcing yourself to gag when his bulbous crown hit your tonsils.

Joel tenderly cupped the back of your head, prepared to soothe your insecurities. Still, you stayed latched, happily drooling down his veiny shaft.

A giggle rumbled through the tight confines of your throat. It caught Joel off guard as you smiled up at him with spit-drenched lips and eyes so bright they sparkled like a Texas midnight sky.

From that moment on, Joel knew he didn't want anyone else.

He wants to play your body like the aged acoustic leaning against the wall in his bedroom. Strum and pluck all the right spots that create the finest tunes and melodies.

Joel eases off his elbows and kisses his way down your body before sitting back on his heels, watching with intrigue as he withdraws from your silky vice lock; your begging cries are a choir of angels to his ears. His girthy tip is still notched at your opening, keeping him warm and safe while you squirm and sob under his stormy gaze.

Turmoil sinks beneath his skin. He wants to comfort your cries and give you all that you ask, but never cease those sinful sounds.

Joel hooks a thumb past your lips and presses down on your tongue, keeping you open and pliant. He rests his forehead on yours, staring down into your watery eyes.  

"Shh, s'ok. Daddy's got you," he purrs before sharply thrusting into your velvet cunt.

A choked sob catches in your throat, your lips forced to close, but Joel's thumb doesn't move; he wants to hear it all.

"No, no, lemme hear those pretty noises," he shakes his head and cants his hips, spreading you even wider for him.

A wave of intangible moans vibrates his thumb. It makes him hard, so hard, it feels like his cock will never soften. Every rapturous moan slinks up his spine until it punctures his skull and takes root in his brain.

"Such'a good girl, come on, get him all messy," Joel grunts, cutting himself off with a groan as your cunt grips his girth.

His lips pull into a feral snarl when a fresh wave of sticky arousal coats his heavy sack, enticing him to quicken his pace. It's brutal and unforgiving, bruising his pelvis and the backs of your thighs, but your corrupt moans are a drug; he only wants more.

If it wasn't for his stubborn hold on your hip and jaw, he would've fucked your blissful, ragdoll body up the bed, grunting like a wild beast.

"Gettin' real tight. She tryin' 'ta milk me dry?" Joel demands, lightly squeezing the back of your neck when your eyes begin to flutter from the impending pleasure.

A wet hiccup breaches your lips, and you dumbly nod.

Joel covers you with his body, shielding you from the outside world. He slides his thumb back further, pressing down on the meat of your tongue. His cock pulses and grazes your cervix when you gag on the imposing digit.

"Thatta girl." He splays a hand on the crest of your plump mound before landing a heavy thumb over your swollen, glistening clit. "Come on, show me how tight she can get."

Joel draws tight circles around your tiny, slick coated button, relishing the way your body stiffens and erupts with a hoarse cry as you shatter in his hold. He has to bite his cheek to avoid coming just from the perverse noises that spill from your parted lips.

In a depraved way, Joel thinks he wants to be haunted by your obscene melodies for the rest of eternity.

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

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

[st4r-vzq]

sundays 🧸

“i want you, you know?"

ꨄpairing central cee x fem!reader ꨄsummary oakley just wants you in his arms. ꨄtags soft, cute, making out, cuddles, fluffy.

first *actual* post!! i hope you all like it <3

"baaaabe." oakley called out for you. you were currently taking off your makeup in the bathroom when your boyfriend comes up behind you and nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, kissing that area gently. "yes oak?" you giggled as you feel him leaving love bites on your neck.  "i wanna cuddleeeee." he whined. your face heats up once his tattoed arms snake around your waist, giving you butterflies.

"give me a minute, baby. i promise." you said, rushing to wash your face and dry it. oakley did not move one bit which made you smile. "im done, baby." before you even knew it, you were swept off your feet and into oakleys arms. he wasted no time in tossing you onto the bed and getting in next to you, desperate to have his arms around you.

"oak, s'ok im not going anywhere." you giggle as you feel your boyfriend bury his head in the juncture of your neck, inhaling your pleasant scent. "i know babe but i cant help it." he mumbles into your neck, his words slightly muffled.

“i want you, you know?" oakley said as he pressed his lips against yours gently. you blushed, kissing him back. "i want you too, oak." you grinned, playing with his hair and twirling your fingers in his curly locks. oakley reciprocated your actions and begins to lazily play with your hair whilst placing slow and soft kisses on your lips, savouring you.

you kissed back with the same amount of slowness and gentleness only to be met with oakleys change of pace. the pace flowed into a quick one, but not too quick, just right. as you adjust to the new pace you cup oakleys face gently. he grips your waist, as if this was the last time he'd hold you. you gasped as you felt his tongue enter your mouth, massaging your interior hungrily. oakleys hand reaches up to your tits and kneads one of them. your teeth clash against sloppily his as the kiss escalates further. the room feels hot and stuffy.

"y/n.." oakley trails off as he pulls back from the kiss. a string of saliva connecting you both. your face flushes at the sight of him in front of you. he already looks so fucked out from only kissing. you lean in to kiss him once more, this time more gentle and sensual compared to the heated session seconds ago.

after exchanging a bit more kisses and pecks oakley pulls away, your limbs and his intertwined. "i love you, y/n." he said softly. "i love you too, oak." you hear small snores from your chest where oakley had laid his head, his breath falling into rhythm with your heartbeat. after admiring your sleeping boyfriend, you feel your eyelids begin to shut and you're lulled into a deep sleep, a faint smile on your face.

END

[hai-nae]

baby, i wanna touch you. i wanna feel you in my bones.

boy, i'm gonna love you, i'm gonna tear into your soul. OR, s'ok to be a little pathetic in the face of adoration.

[swxxtsxcchxrine]

Love that everyone agrees that Miguel is a munch and pussy whipped!! But I don’t think enough people talk about him liking when you squirt! He loves when he’s soo deep, feeling you clench around him and you push at hit stomach as you lift your hips and gush all over him. Loves when you’re so overwhelmed and cumming that he bullies his cock back in. Looooves the tears streaming down your face and the chants of his name as he asks you to do it one more time!!!

Also not enough people know that men can squirt too if the tip is stimulated enough and I think Miguel being overstimmed and squirting would be so🤤.

GIRL WOW i immediately got butterflies when i read this your mind is just 🤯 but you are 110% right. no way men can squirt 😭😭 thats so crazy, ill defo use that in my next whatever these things are muahhh!

Miguel uses you squirting as a personal challenge to himself yk. at one point he makes it his goal to make you gush at least once every time ym have sex. you could say its his way on claiming you, because he knows he's the only one that can make you cum so hard. he's got you folded in half, his thick cock splitting your tight cunt, the line between pleasure and pain becoming blurred. your mind is mush and so are your insides. Miguel watches you as you mewl out his name. "you feel that, mama? that's me, that's all me..." he teases as he pushes on the bulge from your belly. a frothy ring of your cream rims his cock, as your gummy cunt oozes it's juices all over the sheets and drips all over his pelvis. fat tears slide down your hot cheeks while the fat tip of his dick hit the opening to your cervix. his large build easily overpowers you so he grabs the backs of your knees and brings them to your shoulders. you whined out loud pawing at his arms in an attempt to slow him down. "mphm, i'm gonna fuck a baby into you, pretty girl. fuck, you're gonna be such a good mama," he grunts. he can feel your hole clenching on him tight, basically milking his cock. he hisses before groaning as his roll back. "all round and swollen with our babies, fuck, i can't wait," his hips stutter for a moment before he finds his rhythm once more. his pelvis pounds into you harder than before, his dick going in deeper than before. "Miguel... t's too big...can't..." your hands run down his pecs, rubbing on his hard nipples. "awe, my poor baby doesn't know her potential," he coos. "yes you can, you can take it all f'me, yeah?" he smiles condescendingly. he is such a meanie. his sly hand reaches down to run tight circles on your clit. "Miguel!" you sob, your vision being blurred by stinging tears. your hands push and grab at his arms, his abdomen, anything you can grab as you gasp and squeal from the overwhelming pleasure. you try to run away from his dick and his fingers while chanting his name as a desperate plea, but he's faster and stronger than you. he holds your hips in place as the buck and tremble vigorously. your stomach flips and you suddenly feel like your about to pee as his cock hits your g spot every time. your slick pussy tightens around his dick as you gush around his fat dick. his cock pummels out from the force as his fingers play around with your clit, spraying your squirt everywhere. "there's a good girl," he says lifting your legs up and spreading your lips apart to watch your cunt clench around nothing. your pussy was sore and battered and you were completely worn, but he wasn't done with you. you squeal before trying to close your shaking legs from sensitivity but he holds them open by force. he rubs the tip of his angry cock through your folds, catching it on your clit as you shudder and move your hips away with a sob. "s'ok, mami. i know, i know. i'm gonna make you feel so good, yeah?" he whispers while slowing slipping his hard and pretty cock back into your gummy insides.

i need a man like miguel so bad, i like my men big, beefy and a lil mean. hes so so so so so so so hot. I wanna give this man the most tear jerking, fantastic, name yelling, toe curling, eye rolling, ass clenching, soul sucking, jaw locking, heart wrenching, leg cramping, award winning, sheet gripping, mouth drooling, sloppiest head ever, then i want him to dump his warm cum into my mouth, then he’s gonna flip me onto my hands and knees and eat me inside and out making my legs shake and shiver, and tremble before making me gush all over his pretty face before stuffing me with his long and thick cock, pounding me into the mattress, into oblivion, dumbing me down into nothing but a pretty pile of glitter, thrusting into me, hitting that same good spot and the spilling his hot seed into me making me gush all over his chest, his pelvis and abdomen. i'll be his little fountain. just for him. i want his children.🥺🥺