#takin my real real bad day

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

i yearn for ponyboy angst after johnny and dally die and for once he needs darry and not soda...or more of the curtis bros grieving their parents/their friends/their childhoods together. just curtis bro angst all day every day. love ur stuff!

AGH!! TY LOVE!! this ask has been truly rottin' in my brain I thought about it durin' my ENTIRE shift today!! I hope you like it!! fic under the cut!!

also song >:D

"Pony?" Darry's sayin' my name in a way that implies he's been sayin' it a while. I blink at him 'n I don't know where I've been. My fingers are all wrapped up in my jeans, white-knuckled. I try to relax but my body doesn't listen to me one bit, so I forget it.

"I've been callin' you, where were you at?" He crosses the room 'n taps a finger gently to my temple, brushin' my bangs off my forehead.

I shrug 'n he worries at his lip. "Somewhere else, I guess." Darry looks stricken but that's how he always looks nowadays: worried.

"I gotta talk to you about your hair, Pony baby." I inhale sharply 'n Darry's face twists up a little more. He moves all slow, eases down onto the couch beside me 'n wraps an arm around my shoulders like I might fall to pieces.

"I'm not colorin' it I swear to God I'm not-" Steve had made a joke, some comment, maybe even just a suggestion, that I dye my hair back to its normal color. I don't think he meant anythin' bad by it. I dunno. I can see it more now. Darry's rough 'cause he's scared. Steve was mean when he meant to be kind. I think Dallas was like that. Rough 'cause he didn't know how to be soft.

I think I said somethin' awful to him. I was always doin' that. Bein' cruel 'cause it all hurt so bad. Last week Darry 'n I had fought 'cause it's all we knew how to do 'n I'd told him I bet he wished I had died that night. Just like-

I didn't mean it. I never meant it. I didn't know how to not mean it.

"Honey?" I shake my head. Darry's lookin' at me again with big scared eyes 'n I know I've done it again. Gone somewhere.

"Sorry." Darry cups the side of my face, there are new wrinkles alongside his eyes. He always looks like he's just waitin' for somethin' bad to happen.

"S'ok, baby. I ain't gonna make you do nothin' to your hair." Soda's beside me now, too. I don't remember when he got there. "We've been talkin' 'n baby... we need you to let us help you wash it."

I flinch. Hard. Straight back into Soda's arm 'n know he had it there, ready to brace me. "No." Darry sighs, glances over my head, 'n Soda gathers me up into his arms.

"Look, honey. I'm not gonna make you. But I think... you'll feel a bit better. You don't gotta take a shower or nothin'. Maybe a bath?" Darry tries, reachin' out 'n coverin' my hand in his.

"No." I don't know what it was. I'd gone through the damn fire 'n come out scared of the fuckin' water. That night in the fountain was a million years ago. Glory, I don't know how I had space in my head to even remember it.

But I did. Fuck. I did.

"Hey Pony? Can we try somethin' else then? If you humor me?" Soda's tone is pliant 'n a little too bouncy. It gets like that sometimes. But someone has to be alright. So we don't mention it.

He climbs off the couch, pulls me gently up 'n I don't fight it. Darry's got a hand on my shoulder 'n Soda's got his arms around me still 'n they were like this more. Since. Like if they weren't always touchin' me I'd fade right away into nothin'. Sometimes it was nice. Sometimes it made me want to bite 'n tear 'n fuckin' scream.

The kitchen counter is clear, a couple towels folded onto the table, a chair tipped back against the sink. Soda guides me over to the chair, asks me a million questions in those big brown eyes he has that I don't know how to go about answerin'.

Are you fine? Is this fine? Does this remind you of- Does this remind you- Does this-

"Look, if you sit here you can rest your head back 'n I can wash your hair out without havin' to get you any closer to the water. D'ya think... that's somethin' you can stomach?" Soda's off to my side doin' all the talkin' but I'm lookin' straight out at Darry. He's still got a hand on my shoulder 'n Jesus. Has he always looked at me like that?

He shifts his weight 'n furrows his brow. His hand comes up slowly like I'm a spooked animal that might bolt. Some kicked dog. Some scared foal. He cups the side of my face 'n it occurs to me. It's the same place he'd once struck.

Odd. Both times touched in fear. A million years apart. I'm not even sure he notices.

"Pony?" I finally tear my eyes off Darry 'n when I twist my head, he lets his hand fall back to my shoulder.

"Ok." My voice aches. It always does. Maybe from the smoke. Maybe from the cold burn of that still water rottin' in my lungs even now. "Ok, I'll try." The look that Soda 'n Darry shoots over my head is filled with such a palpable relief I nearly cry.

"Ok, baby. I know this isn't easy. D'you think you can... take his jacket off?" Soda already has both hands around my biceps, just gently restin' there like he knows I'm gonna flinch again. "I ain't gonna take it-" My eyes flicker to Darry 'n hurt flashes across his face (not meanin' it, not knowin' how not to)- "'n neither is Dar. I just don't wanna get it wet 'n mess it up, ok hon? But if it's too much I can just try my best to avoid it?"

I clutch at the collar. 'N I can hear his voice clear as day. You better not fuck that leather up. You have no idea how much trouble it was to steal.

'N I almost laugh. Almost.

"He'd kill me if I let you give it the kitchen sink treatment." 'N my voice sounds all thick in my ears. I want to laugh. I want Dallas to knock me up the back of my head for even thinkin' of it. I want-

"Oh, Ponybaby." Soda's arms are around me again. I'm cryin'. When did I start cryin'? Why? 'N it's one of those times I don't want them to hold me. Jesus. It makes me want to run. To let the ache in my throat dissolve into the burn in my lungs. I want to bite 'n tear 'n scream.

But all I can do is sit there. Stiff in the arms I wish I could melt into.

"Soda." Darry drops a hand onto his shoulder 'n gently pries him off of me. When he takes his face out of my neck his cheeks are wet 'n I don't know whether it's my tears or his. "He's not-"

Here.

For a long moment, none of us move. Like a gunfight. Or a caged animal. 'N then I drag blunt nails under my eyes 'n scrub my face 'n Darry blows out a long breath like he'd been holdin' it. He lets go of Soda 'n we all go back to pretendin' nothin' happened. Or at least I do.

"Do you... want help?" When I look down my knuckles are white against the collar. I flex my fingers 'n they burn like that time I'd split them against some socs' jaw. Or that night Johnny 'n I had slept in the backyard out under the stars 'n the cold scalded along my hands 'n cracked my skin 'n I'd bled 'n bled 'n bled-

"Don't make me do it." 'N when I'd looked up at Darry I knew he understood what I meant. I squeezed my eyes shut 'n felt hands roughened by labors of love that had done nothin' but leave him with callouses 'n scars rest at my neck. He pulls the jacket off quickly 'n the rush of winter air slinkin' through the cracks we'd never be able to seal up scorches against my bare arms. I don't open my eyes until Darry presses the bundle to my chest.

When I look to Soda again, his face is dry 'n he's wearin' this encouragin' little smile that tugs too tight on the edges of his mouth. "You ready, Pony?"

I nod. Just a bob of my chin that takes every last ounce of strength in me. Darry turns, yanks another chair close to my side 'n Soda guides my head down to the sink.

The tap flips on. A lonely titterin' against the empty bowl. I don't control anythin' that happens after. Not the low, whimperin' sob that snakes out of my mouth. Not the way my shoulders jar up 'n away. Not my nails bitin' into Darry's arm so hard they leave bloody, half moons in their wake.

"No. Soda, no. Soda. I can't." Darry smooths one hand over my forehead 'n I reach for his wrist, catch it tight 'n hold on like if I don't let go he can keep me out of that night. If I can keep him here I can't go back.

"Pony?" Soda drops down so he can see my face. Reaches out to wrap me in his arms 'n I flinch. Fuckin' flinch. Right back 'n up into Darry's lap.

'N none of us are movin' again. Soda's falterin' in place, arms half reached out 'n face a mask of hurt 'n Jesus why do I always hurt the people I love? Why can't I stop bitin' the hand that wants to hold me?

"What is it, Pony? Are you here?" 'N I can't make my voice or body or anythin' work the way it should. But before I can stop it I choke out-

"Darry." 'N Darry lets out a little noise from somewhere so far in the back of his throat it comes out like a whimper.

"Oh, little colt." 'N suddenly his arms are around me again. My face is pressed into his chest 'n I'm heavin' deep sobs that have been rottin' in my chest for too long. Since before Dallas or Johnny. Before the week in the church or that night in the park. Maybe since Mama. Since Daddy. Since the last person to call me that was put in the freezin' Tusla earth.

"I love you." 'N it's whispery 'n waverin' 'n also the surest thing I've ever heard. 'N this time when I feel Soda return to my side, feel Darry open his arms 'n hold us both like were disappearin' before his eyes I just let myself be held. "You're here."

I am.

'N then he's shiftin' 'n I'm clutchin' his shirt tighter 'n he's pettin' my hair 'n tippin' my head back 'n not makin' me let him go though I'm too goddamn old 'n too big to be beggin' for my older brother.

"Keep your eyes closed, colt." 'N Soda's whisperin' somethin' low 'n soft 'n just louder than the sound the tap makes as it drip drip drips against the sink. 'N when the water runs along my temples 'n along the line of the scar that I'll carry until I die from the night I lost two brothers I don't think of the fountain.

No.

I think about the hot afternoon I won my first track race, felt sweat slide along my brow 'n saw the sun glint off Dallas' silver tooth even from way up in the stands. Hear the whoop of his voice still marred thick 'n heavy with his New York drawl. I think of runnin' home through the lot dodgin' the fat rain drops 'n stoppin' only to let Johnny catch up. Throwin' my head back 'n laughin'. Of the spray of a passin' car. I think of Soda laughin' as he flicks the spatterin' of water left on his hands at my face when we finish the dishes 'n mama not even scoldin' us.

I think of Darry's hands wet from the laundry as he runs a thumb absently over my face. Memorizin' it with calloused fingers when he thinks I've dropped off to sleep. The gentleness of his achin' love for us. Low 'n constant 'n how had I ever missed it?

"We're done, honey." 'N then I'm buried in his chest again, Dallas' jacket pressed against my stomach 'n Johnny's letter tucked into the inside pocket closest to my heart. Bangs drippin' cold between my brow, along my nose, 'n minglin' with tears never gone long enough to dry. 'N for the first time since it all, I'm right here. 'N it doesn't even hurt. It just aches.

[holdmytesseract]

Hii! It’s me again, back at it with another request (your writing is just so good! I can’t get enough of it).

So this is another dad!Daryl one, one where the reader is pregnant. So we know that some of the Saviours in season 9 didn’t particularly like Daryl because of everything that happened. What if a couple of the Saviours cornered the reader and kidnapped her, taking her to some place to keep her in. Daryl, naturally, is seeing red and will do just about anything to get her back. Angst with a happy ending.

Love you if you write this, love you if you don’t! 💜

What I do, I do for You

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: When two Saviors kidnap you - Daryl's pregnant wife - in order to score him off, the archer sees red and does everything to safe you... Everything.

Set in Season 9!

Warnings: Lots of bad stuff is happening, so please act with caution! usual TWD stuff, a lot of angst, pregnancy stuff, violence, blood, character death, murder, brief mentions of rape, FLUFF, Justin & Jed (yep, they're a warning), please tell me if I missed something!

Also, protective!Daryl alert. He goes absolutely feral.

Word Count: 6.9k

a/n: @dixons-sunshine I really hope that I could do your request justice. 🙏🏼 I loved to write it and tried to give my absolute best. 🧡

EoH Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"Ya sure 'bout that?" Your husband asked with a tinge of concern and fear in his voice. "Ya really wanna come?" You gave him a smile and stepped closer; invading his space. "Positive. I am drop-dead serious about it," you announced and raised your hands to his chest; adjusting the lapels of his angel-winged vest. "I absolutely hate it when you're away and I'm alone in Alexandria... Especially now..." Your gaze fell onto your yet small baby bump; Daryl's blue-greyish eyes following.

He couldn't suppress the soft smile on his lips, neither the quickening of his heartbeat. The man who had lost more in his whole life than he had won, had still a hard time to believe that he actually wasn't dreaming. That this was real. You. The 'wedding band' around your ring finger. The life he was granted to spend with you. Or hence, the new life growing inside you. Him, becoming a father. It was too good to be true. Daryl had to pinch himself on a regular basis, and still questioned himself how a man like him deserved something so precious. Luckily, you were always here to erase the bad thoughts ghosting through his mind... And to remember him how valuable he was to you - and to all the people around you whom you called family.

"A'right. 'M gonna take ya with me to the Sanctuary. Yer maybe right. Best way ta protect ya 's keepin' ya close to me I s'ppose," he agreed in the end and leaned forward to bestow a lingering kiss on your forehead. You smiled. "Thank you so much, baby. You won't regret it, I swear."

"I know, sunshine," he finally answered; his voice huskily with emotion. From the both hands resting on your hips traveled one to the front of your body; gently cupping the bump which was his child. "But 'm not sure..." You pouted. "Please, Dar... I don't want to miss you... And we both know I'd be the safest within your presence."

The archer chewed on the inside of his bottom lip for a long moment; contemplating his next words.

Oh, how wrong the both were going to be...

Barely two days later, you and Daryl made your way to the Sanctuary. Not on his bike, though. The archer had made that clear the moment you and him left the basement apartment you called home. "Hell nah. We ain't takin' the bike. 'S outta question. 'Specially in yer condition," your husband had said, causing you to roll your eyes with a smile. Sure, you understood him and got his point, but you were also aware that this wasn't a 'condition'. You were pregnant. Not sick. And besides, not even that far along. About four months was Siddiq's guess.

Of course, you hadn't even tried to reason with the archer; knowing already that you'd fight a battle you couldn't win. So, you had followed him without a word to one of Alexandria's cars - certainly not horse; Daryl would rather walk than riding on a horseback, even if it would take him days to get to his destination on foot - and were now comfortably seated in the passenger seat. Daryl steered the car to the place you actually still despised deep down in your heart; not having forgotten the things Negan and the Saviors had done. What they had taken and almost took from you.

A few former Saviors were out and about. Most of them tending to the crops and other things planted in the makeshift gardens. The lot of them greeted you and Daryl with respect; some even gave a smile, but others... If looks could kill. The coldness and hate in theirs eyes sent a shiver down your spine. Of course you knew that some Saviors didn't quite... appreciate the mercy you showed them, neither the things you did for them. They were still hanging on to Negan. Daryl knew as well - and he didn't tolerate them. Unfortunately, he had to. At the end of the day, he bent and listened to his brother; being faithful and loyal.

You passed by lots of beautiful places on your way; proofs that mother nature had taken back what belonged to her. But you also saw a lot of rotting corpses trudging and staggering down the abandoned streets, meadows and woods. Life and death battling over the world domination. Nobody would've seen it coming that the line between decay and reincarnation was going to be that thin at some point - and here we were.

"Ya a'right, sunshine?" Daryl's deep, but comforting and definitely slightly worried voice urged suddenly to your ears. You blinked and tried to refocus again. You didn't notice that you had your head in the clouds; lost in thoughts. Neither did you notice that Daryl had parked and turned off the engine of the car. "Uh, yeah, sure. Sorry. Just spaced out a bit." Daryl nodded and gave you a last look, before he opened the car door and moved to get out of his seat. "C'mon. We're here."

It was strange to be back at the Sanctuary. Only the mere look at the huge, old factory caused an uneasy feeling to spread within your stomach. And you could tell that Daryl wasn't quite at ease either. How could he? After all he had to go through here... After all the traumatizing experiences...

"Daryl." A blond woman approached the two of you. Your eyes scanned her face; realizing that you knew her. Laura - if you remembered correctly. The archer jutted his chin into her direction; silently addressing her. The both of them started to talk. Something about the crops and an incident with a 'living' walker as a scarecrow. You didn't pay fully attention to your husband and the former Savior, since you could clearly feel a pair of eyes on you. In search for them, you looked to your left; meeting eyes with a man. Tall, longer black hair and a beard. He was quite a few yards away from you but you could clearly tell that he was the one watching you.

You blinked and waved it off. It was most likely 'cause he had never seen you before.

"Let's get our stuff inside. 'S gettin' dark soon." Your husband's voice caused you to redirect your attention. "Yeah..." You nodded; still a bit absentmindedly, and followed Daryl inside the building.

He led you down several corridors, until you reached a spacious room with a bed, attached bathroom and a few other basic things. While Daryl put down his backpack and your bag alongside his beloved crossbow, you sat down on the bed; feeling a dull ache in your feet. "Ya okay, darlin'?" Of course, Daryl noticed immediately. His senses seemed to be even sharper since you told him about the pregnancy. You nodded. "Sure, Dar. Just some swollen feet." He gave you one of those cute, little smiles you adored so much. "Guess yer in for a foot rub tonight then."

It was the fourth day you spent at the Sanctuary. Daryl tried his best to be around you as much as somehow possible, but unfortunately, there was a lot of work to do for the 'leader'. So, you just decided to stay around him. Luckily, you had a few books packed and you'd always find a comfortable seat - no matter where. You just felt safer when your husband was close, and you could tell that it was much appreciated by him that he could throw a watchful eye on you from time to time.

Daryl wasn't the only one who had his eyes on you, though... Day after day, you could feel the unpleasant stare of that man who already had watched you at the day you set foot here... Justin, like you got to know. He didn't let a single opportunity slip to eye you. It was highly uncomfortable and quite confusing. You didn't know why he was doing what he did. It wasn't like you knew each other. You never even had exchanged a single word! Yet he was always looking... And when you'd catch him, he just gave you a little smirk - what didn't make you feel any better.

After day two, you just accepted it and tried to brush it off and ignore it. You didn't dare to confront the man. If you weren't pregnant, you wouldn't have even give it a second thought and walked straight up to your 'stalker', but... You were pregnant and didn't want to risk anything.

And telling Daryl wasn't an option in your eyes either. He was already so occupied and definitely way more on edge now that he was back at this former hellhole. This wouldn't end well; you knew it.

"You gotta come! Reilly and Mark are fighting. They're yelling at each other like kindergartners!" Daryl scoffed. "Dun care. They can handle their shit alone." The Savior standing opposite you frantically shook his head. "Man, if you don't intervene, this is gonna escalate! They're gonna beat each other up - or worse! You know how they are!" The archer groaned and rolled his eyes. Unfortunately was that idiot right. He couldn't let this escalate, even if he didn't care if it did. He had silently promised Rick to keep this place sane and running, so... "Fine," he finally answered, and turned to you. "Ya gonna find the way alone, sunshine?" You nodded, and placed a hand on his chest with a soft smile. "Of course. Go. I'll be waiting for you in bed. I'm tired." Your husband nodded and gave your hip a soft squeeze; an apologizing look on his face. He didn't want to leave you alone - but knew he had to. Turning on his heel, he followed the Savior and vanished around the corner.

"Dixon!" You flinched at the sudden, unanticipated voice of a man echoing down the corridor you and Daryl just walked through. You were actually on your way back to your room; ready to call it a day. Well, apparently not...

The archer stopped and turned; you both witnessing Dean - a Savior, of course, sprint around the corner. "Dixon!" "Wha'?" Daryl snarled in annoyance. He have had enough of that day. All he wanted was to disappear in that room and not leave it - and you, until tomorrow.

"Hello, Y/N."

You sighed and gazed behind you down the empty corridor, as you felt a flutter within your belly. You smiled; placing a palm underneath your baby bump, which was well hidden since you wore way too big, but comfortable clothes from the day you got here. "I know, munchkin. Daddy's gonna be back soon. Let's go to bed. We could both use some sleep," you talked to your unborn baby quietly; the smile never leaving your lips.

Everything was eerily quiet. Well, no wonder. It was quite late and most of the Saviors were already sleep, you reckoned. Hopefully me too, soon, you thought; pushing down the door handle and opening the door to yours and Daryl's room. You switched on the light - thanks to the generators.

An unknown voice suddenly urged to your ears; causing you to flinch and almost stumble right back out of the room again. You spun around to seek out the origin of the voice; finding the man who had watched you for days sitting on that one chair in the corner of the room with a smirk on his face. You swallowed hard.

"Justin, right?" You tried to sound brave, even though you had a very uneasy feeling brewing within your gut. "What are you doing here? Can I, um, help you?"

Justin's smirk widened. "Oh yes, indeed. You can help me... Close the door, love. I wanna talk." You did what he said and slowly closed the door, but your hand kept gripping the handle - just in case.

"I have never see you before," he started. "Surely we both crossed paths before without knowing - blame it to the war." "Most likely, yeah..." You answered. Justin shook his head and let his eyes wander over your body again. You felt like a piece of meat. "You're a true sight for sore eyes, Y/N... What a shame..." You frowned. "Shame?" The black haired man nodded. "It's a shame you have such low standards and waste your time on a man like Dixon. You are his girl, aren't you?" Your frown deepened at his words; feeling anger bubble up inside you.

Just as you wanted to speak up, the Savior cut you off. "Or... Wait... Are you just his little toy? An occasional fuck? God, how pathetic," he laughed to himself. "What do you get in return? Protection? Food? A shelter? Or are you doing it for free? His dick that good?"

Your jaw almost dropped at the foul words leaving Justin's mouth. He definitely went to far. You've had enough. Nobody threw mud at Daryl like that. Nobody. You were not having it.

"I'm his wife! I-" "His wife?" Justin cut you off once more; laughing. "So this is some serious shit, huh? Wow... Never thought a guy like Dixon could pull such a hot girl like you. You're too good for him, you know," the man said with a dramatic sigh and pulled himself up from the chair. With calculated steps, he crossed the room - and the predatory smirk he wore on his lips, made you feel even more uneasy than you already felt. "You certainly deserve..." Justin licked his lips. "...better."

The Saviors eyes widened, "Fucking hell... He... He knocked you up?" and he laughed. "You're dumber than I thought." Justin shook his head; still smiling amused. "We're witnessing the fucking end of this shit show called life," he gestured around himself. "And you don't know better than get pregnant with that asshole's bastard child."

You swallowed hard and took a step back, feeling your back pressing against the door; grip on the handle still painfully tight. "N-No, I don't. Daryl is more than enough. H-He treats me right." "He treats you right?" Justin asked mockingly, "Aww, how cute." and chuckled. "What if I told you that other men could treat you so much better?" He whispered in a low voice and reached out a hand to cup your chin with his thumb and forefinger.

Your heartbeat quickened; pumping adrenaline through your whole body in fear. Your primal instinct to run already knocked against the door to your brain, but another instinct was stronger just yet... Protecting your baby. So, out of instinct, your free arm wrapped around your baby bump, before you could even stop yourself - and it didn't escape Justin's notice, of course. Your well kept secret suddenly wasn't a secret anymore.

The last sentence was the straw that broke the camel's back. Insulting the husband of an expectant mother wasn't wise. But insulting the child of an expectant mother was suicide.

It was the whistle which sealed your fate.

Before the rational part of your brain could intervene, did your palm already collide with Justin's cheek; slapping him hard.

A soft groan of pain left his lips as he stumbled back. His hand immediately rubbing the now stinging skin. "You bitch!" The Savior exclaimed angrily. "Alright, that's enough." Justin stomped back over to you and already reached out his hand to grasp your wrist, but your instincts kicked in again. This time, they told you to run. So, you did.

Quickly opening the door, you stormed outside and wanted to flee - but you unfortunately didn't get far.

Suddenly another Savior appeared in the corridor ahead of you - and you immediately stopped. Frantically turning around and searching reverently for a way to escape, you soon figured out that there was no way out. One man in front of you, Justin coming up behind you. And in the blink of an eye, you found yourself in the same situation like seconds earlier - just that it was way worse now. Pressed against the wall; trying to shield your unborn child from any possible harm and danger. "P-Please, don't p-please..." You begged for mercy, but it was no use. The men just laughed; having you cornered. "Not so brave anymore, are we?" Justin snickered. Tears stung your eyes. "T-The baby, p-please..." You whispered through tears; feeling your knees buckle and almost give in from underneath you. Silently, you prayed to every God and higher force, that Daryl would walk around the corner now.

He didn't.

"Get her. We're gonna make that asshole pay." It was the last thing you heard, before the other man lashed out. You felt a throbbing pain in your skull and within seconds went everything black.

Grumbling in annoyance, Daryl made his way finally back to yours and his quarters. To solve the stupid, boyish conflict between those two primitive idiots took longer than he thought it would. It got him even more tired than he already was. All the archer wanted was to sleep with you safely in his arms.

However, when he reached your shared room he found the door ajar; causing his heart rate to quicken on an instant. Without wasting even a second, he literally stormed in - only to find the room empty and deafeningly quiet.

"Y/N?!" He called out, but didn't receive an answer. "Y/N?!" In a frenzy of panic, Daryl started to search for you. To his sheer horror, he couldn't find you. Fear and the nagging feeling of guilt and failure already eating away at him. He swore to protect you. You felt safe whenever he was around - and now he had failed you; failed to protect you and his unborn child. Whatever happened to you, Daryl could tell that it wasn't something good. This was the Sanctuary, after all. This hellhole was worse than what laid behind the gates.

Nevertheless, he hoped to find you unscathed, and that all of this was just a big misunderstanding.

Of course... He should've think of that. Jed was - among a few others - a Savior, who didn't quite like how things went down. Negan being defeated... Rick's plan to 'convert' them to be better people... Daryl taking over the Sanctuary... It didn't suit their plans. Daryl knew they hated it - and they hated him. So, why wouldn't Jed - or hence, any of them, do something to get at him? And what was the best way to inflict pain to somebody? Exactly. By hurting someone the person loves.

Life didn't treat the archer kind - of course. You were nowhere to be found. Not in the kitchens, the sanitary rooms, nor the common room; his next destination being the gardens.

"Daryl?" A female voice suddenly urged to his ears - not yours, though. So, he simply ignored it. "Daryl?" Laura stepped into his view. She was on watch and saw her visibly distraught 'leader'. "What the hell is wrong? You run around like a mad man. What are you looking for?"

The archer froze in his movements for a moment; breathing labored. "Y/N. Can't find 'er. Somethin' happened to 'er. Someone took 'er. I'm sure 'a it," he spoke in a low, deep voice. Threateningly. "Ya know somethin' I should know?" Eyes full of a anger were staring the Savior woman down. And Laura knew that this wasn't a version of Daryl you wanted to get yourself into a fight with.

"Not really, no, but..." She frowned; seemed to recall something in her memory. "I saw Jed hanging around in the hallway of your room this afternoon." The archer clenched his jaw.

He shouldn't have let you accompany him.

"Daryl?" Laura's voice ripped him out of his thoughts. The archer wanted to answer, but all he saw was red. He stormed off; driven by anger, fear and the urge to protect what was his - the most important one of the few good things in his life.

Without any unnecessary detours, Daryl went straight for Jed's room. Not even blinking, he barged through the door; slamming it shut behind him and causing the Savior, who was just about to get changed for the night to flinch badly. Jed spun around; his eyes landing on Daryl. "What the hell, Dixon?!" He complained; not noticing the hands of the archer, which were curled into fists, nor the rage in his blue-grey eyes. "Fuck off! This isn't your-" Before Jed was even able to finish his sentence, had Daryl already crossed the distance with three big steps and grabbed the Savior by the lapels of his shirt; pinning him against the wall. Sure, Jed was strong - but not as strong as the bulky archer. Plus, the momentum was clearly on Daryl's side, since he had caught him by surprise.

Daryl growled lowly in his throat. It wasn't a warning. It was a threat.

"What-" "Shut yer damn mouth 'n tell me where she is," Daryl growled; accentuating his words with pushing Jed a little harder and caging him entirely between the wall and his broad frame.

The man scoffed and pawed - in vain - at Daryl's bare forearms and the bulging veins and muscles located there; trying to free himself. "What the fuck are you talking about, Dixon?!"

"Ya ain't fuckin' with me, asshole. Ya know exactly what 'm talkin' about." His grip on Jed's shirt lapels tightened. "Where is my wife," Daryl punctuated every single word. The Savior glared into the archer's eyes for a moment, before he scoffed once again. "I have absolutely no clue where your little whore is! Perhaps she ran off and found a better dick than your-" Daryl had enough of the bullshit Jed was giving him. Without even letting him finish his sentence, Daryl pulled him away from the wall and threw him harshly to the hard ground. "Dun'cha dare talk about Y/N like tha'." His voice was deep and quiet, but not lacking with danger. "And now tell me where she is." "I told you, I don't know!" Jed tried to defend himself further, but Daryl knew he lied. He could feel it.

"A'right. Then we gonna do this the hard way," Daryl stated and lunged at Jed; fists connecting with the man's jaw and stomach. Jed fought back, of course, landing a few blows himself. Their bodies hit the floor multiple times. Blood flew, bones cracked and furniture got destroyed and wrecked as both men were fighting for the upper hand. In the end, though, had Daryl clear advantage over Jed. He was the more skilled and stronger fighter, and had the Savior snugly wrapped up in a chokehold. "'M gonna find 'er anyways," Daryl grunted; panting and being out of breath. "'N I dun care 'bout how many of yer assholes I gotta go through. I'll kill every damn one of ya if tha's what's it gonna take," he snarled and tightened his deathly grip around Jed's neck; his biceps bulging. "So, do yerself a damn favor 'n tell me where the hell she is!" "Fuck you!" was all Jed answered. The archer growled once again and squeezed, which caused the man to gasp and flail; helplessly trying to escape.

Only when Jed was on the verge of passing out, did he decide to finally cooperate. "Alright, alright!" He spluttered and choked. "I'm gonna tell you!" Daryl loosened his grip, and Jed frantically gasped for air. "S-She... She's in one... one of t-the cells..." The man coughed; still trying to get air back into his lungs.

The Savior didn't have to say more. Daryl knew what - or well, where he meant. "Try anythin' stupid, I'll kill ya," the crossbow-wielding archer warned Jed and gave him last death glare, before he left him on the floor in his room with bruises already forming on his neck.

This ain't 'bout me, damnit, he reminded himself. I gotta keep my wife 'n baby safe.

A lump formed in Daryl's throat as he made his way to the 'cells'. An area he thought he'd never ever in his life set foot in again. Being back at the Sanctuary was bad enough, but the mere thought of going there was even worse. It caused his stomach to flip. He could've thrown up all over the floor if he had let himself...

It still looked the same like back when he was imprisoned. The same way too squeaky clean floors. The same doors leading into the same rooms. The only difference was the infirmary, which had been moved to another part of the other building. But except that... Everything was the same. Daryl had to take a deep breath and close his eyes for a moment to keep his shit together and save himself from an approaching panic attack. His labored breath, shaky hands and the forming sweat on his skin a clear indicator.

"Y/N?" Daryl whisper-shouted; hoping to be close to you and receive an answer. He didn't. The archer had to go a little further to find you, and now that he was standing in front of one particular room with his heart almost breaking free of his ribcage; getting to know that it was locked as he twisted the door knob, realization dawned on him. Of course they'd lock her up here, Daryl thought as he eyed the way too familiar door. That was a part of the sick game they played.

With another deep breath, Daryl fought against the traumatic thoughts which wanted to push themselves to the forefront of his brain and shoved them aside; locking them away and focusing on you.

Precautionary, he freed his knife from its sheath and sneaked down the corridors; checking every room. After all, he didn't know who or what awaited him. Storming into this blindly wasn't probably the best idea, since he was convinced that Jed didn't do this alone.

Clenching his jaw, he had to fight another panic attack; even going as far to cut himself with the knife in his shaking hand, in the hopes that the pain would redirect the attention of his brain. A small grunt of pain escaped his lips as the red liquid dripped down his arm.

"H-Hello?"

His desperate action got interrupted by a soft, weak voice coming from the other side of the door; causing the archer's knife to clatter to the floor and a relieved, shaky breath to leave his throat.

"Y/N?!"

The answer came promptly.

"O-Oh my gosh, D-Daryl! I-It's locked, a-and I can't move, I-" "I know, sunshine, I know. Dun worry, 'kay? 'M goin' to get ya," he cut you off with the intention to calm you down. Taking a few steps back, he let the anger and rage take over his system once again and stormed forwards. The door might have been locked, but it definitely wasn't the same door like ten years ago. It had aged and got less stable, so when the archer's strong, bulky frame connected with the door, the lock gave in and the door busted open. Sure, it took him three tries and most likely cost him a bruised shoulder, but Daryl couldn't care less.

"C'mon. Let's getcha outta here 'n see a doctor. I ain't takin' any risks." Your husband shifted and gently slid an arm under your knees and around your back. "Hold on to me." You wrapped an arm around his neck, but shook your head. "Y-You don't have to do this, Dar. I can walk." "Nah," he stated, "I'm gonna do this. Yer hurt 'n pregnant." and lifted you carefully up to carry you bridal style. You didn't protest further. Why should you? He got a point after all...

The bright light from the corridor flooded the dark room and helping him to get a better look at you. You sat in the corner on the cold floor of the dark room. Your wrists and ankles were tied together with a thick rope - way too tight as he noticed, since he could see the material already cutting into your delicate skin. Tried blood was on the right side of your head.

Daryl's heart shattered into a million pieces, seeing you like this. Fear and concern coursed through his veins. "Y/N..." he whispered in a hoarse, broken voice and immediately dropped to his knees beside you, quickly freeing you off the too tight ropes, before one hand gently cupped your cheek, while the other found its way to your growing baby bump. "Ya both okay?! Ya hurt?! In pain?!" Tears of sheer relief gathered in your eyes; threatening to fall as you felt the gentle, loving touch of your husband and knowing that he was here with you. That he saved you.

"I-I'm okay... W-We are okay. Thanks to you," you breathed; smiling as tears rolled down your cheeks. It's been probably only hours since you lastly saw Daryl, but what had happened happened. The shock was profound.

The archer's eyes scanned your body thoroughly for any visible injuries. "Wha' 'bout yer head, sunshine?" "N-Nothing that can't be fixed," you stated and gazed deeply into his worried, loving eyes. "I'm s-so glad you found me. I-I was so afraid..." Daryl lowered his head to rest his forehead against yours. Your hands slipped behind his neck; tangling a few chestnut brown strands through your fingers. "Yeah, me too." Daryl's eyes fluttered shut, before his lips caught yours in a lingering, desperate kiss.

"Just Jed 'n Justin?" You nodded against his shoulder. "Justin waited for me in o-our room. He insulted you. S-Said I deserve better a-and..." You trailed off; feeling tears blurry your vision once again - but this time, it wasn't happy tears. "Ya dun have ta tell me, darlin'. Dun wanna pressure ya into talkin' 'a me." You swallowed hard and buried your face further in his shoulder and neck; "I-I want to tell you." inhaling deeply. Daryl's natural scent, mixed with leather and smoke filled your airways and - like always - had that soothing effect on you. "I-I think he was only a hairsbreadth away f-from raping me, but-" "Wha'?!" Daryl instantly cut you off. Every single muscle in his body tensed as he came to an abrupt halt. You could tell. "He didn't, Dar. I-I slapped him a-and tried to flee, but then there was J-Jed."

"Which one of those assholes did tha' to ya? Jed 'n who else?" Daryl asked in a drop-dead serious voice as he slowly made his way with you down the corridor. You swallowed hard; having to recall the horrible memory. "J-Justin."

Justin. One word - one name was enough to get Daryl's blood to a boiling point once again. He and that prick didn't get along from the very start - and this wasn't the first time the archer and Justin got in each other's ways... There had been a lot of situations where either of them was only a second away from beating the other up. Justin was - like Jed - one of those assholes who wanted Negan back. A Savior through and through.

The clattering sound of - most likely dishes urged to yours and Daryl's ears and managed to quickly redirect both your attention.

"'M gonna kill that sonofabitch," Daryl growled lowly under his breath, but you understood him anyway, of course. "Baby-" "Nah. Ya ain't gonna talk me outta this, Y/N," your husband stated firmly, while opening the main door to the building and stepped outside. Meanwhile, the sun had risen; fresh, crispy morning air hitting your bare arms.

"He's going to pay for tha'. He put you 'n our baby into danger. I ain't havin' tha'." "I know, babe, and you're right. He... He has to pay. But Rick's gonna-" "I dun care 'bout wha' Rick's gonna say. This ain't 'bout him. This' 'bout my family. We both know tha' he'd do the same in the end 'n-"

Justin stood a few feet away across from you and Daryl on the yard. What you had heard was indeed dishes breaking; the shards and content laying on the ground in front of the man. It looked like he had been just on his way to bring you some 'breakfast'. But now, the Savior stood frozen to the ground; eyes directed on you and Daryl. Your husband held his gaze, of course, and if looks could kill, Justin would've been dead already. You felt your archer's muscles tense once again, before he gently let you down. "Sit, 'kay? 'N stay there, please," he whispered and jutted his chin at a wooden bench. You did what he said and slowly walked backwards over to sit down; eyes never leaving both men.

The tension was literally cuttable with a knife as Justin and Daryl stared each other down. The archer out of pure hate and the Savior still in shock and in realization at failure of his plan. You knew this was going to escalate. Two 'alpha males' with completely different, but strong intentions.

Daryl knew it, too. It would've escalated someday anyway. For him, it was just sooner than later.

"Fuck," cursed Justin out loud then; awoken from his rigidity - and instantly started to run. Daryl wasn't having this, of course, and sprinted right after Justin. "Fuck, indeed..." You muttered to yourself; feeling your heart rate picking up. You had to fear for your life and the life of your unborn child for hours and now you had to fear for the life of your husband. Mental stress was your current program as it seemed - something not just you felt... You could feel some movement inside your baby bump. "I know, I know... I'm sorry, munchkin... I just hope your daddy knows what he's getting himself into..." Your palm cradled your protruding stomach in an attempt to soothe your antsy 'roommate'.

Meanwhile had Daryl caught up to Justin and tackled him to the concrete ground - where they still were. Fists connected with several body parts; each of them trying to gain the upper hand. Justin was definitely stronger than Jed. The archer had a hard time taking him down and couldn't do so without taking several hits and punches himself. However kept him the anger and adrenaline going, and gave him the strength he needed.

Somehow, they had made their way back to you. You gasped as both men entered your field of view again - just in time to witness Justin's fist colliding with Daryl's jaw, who let out a grunt of pain. Your eyes widened and you were instantly on your feet; breath hitching in your throat. "Daryl!" He had turned his back to you; spitting out some blood and blindly reaching out his arm to signal you to stay where you are. "Nah, stay back! I got it!" He yelled and violently shoved Justin away, as he wanted to deliver another blow.

You took a step back again, but didn't sit down; face full of concern. You wouldn't let him die. That much was certain. You'd intervene before that happened. How, was the part you hadn't figured out just yet...

The fight went on - without mercy. Daryl, you and Justin knew that only one would walk out alive. Neither the archer, nor the Savior intended to stop. Sure, you could stop it, but how were you supposed to do that?

The sound of a cracking bone almost send you into another frenzy - until you saw that it wasn't a bone of your husband's body. It was Justin's. His nose, to be precisely. The man winced in pain; crimson red blood already tripping down his nose and onto his shirt and the ground. Justin was clearly in a daze; stumbling a few steps back. This didn't slip Daryl's notice, of course. He knew that this was the moment. He had to grasp this chance and use it, before it was too late. The archer was well aware that he was hurt, too and didn't know how much longer he was able to hold on. So, without thinking twice, Daryl reached for the other knife in the sheath attached to his rugged jeans, freed the blade, spun around - and slit the Savior's throat in his movement. Your eyes widened to the size of plates; watching the man splutter and helplessly trying to put pressure on the wound, but it was in vain.

The clatter of a knife caused you to avert your eyes and look at your husband, who had sunk to his knees only a few feet away from Justin's now dead body; panting heavily. Your heart immediately screamed at you to look after the man you loved. Not wasting a second, you ran over to the archer; crouching down beside him.

"Daryl?" You cupped his cheeks and gently lifted his head to make him look at you. "Baby?" Heavy, clouded blue eyes gazed into yours. "You okay?" He nodded meekly. A breath of relief left your lips, although you could already see the bruises forming on his face and the dried blood on his lips and chin. Your thumbs caressed the rough, stubbly skin beneath them, before you gently pulled him closer and rested your forehead against his. Daryl sighed; his bloody hands gripping your wrists. "Y/N, 'm sorry, I-"

The bubble you and Daryl had been in bursted. You lifted your head; only now noticing Rick and a lot of other people standing around you. Mostly Saviors. Swallowing hard, you stood up; holding onto Daryl and helping him up as well. "Rick-" You started, but the leader of Alexandria interrupted you; shock, disappointment and anger clearly visible on his face. "You killed 'im? You killed Justin? Why?" You wanted to speak up again, but Daryl leapfrogged you. "'Cause he was a damn asshole, tha's why!" "Daryl, that's not-" "He kidnapped Y/N, Rick! He hurt her! He wanted to rape 'er 'n do god knows what to 'er!" Your husband yelled at his brother. "Wake up, man. We can't change them, Rick. They are wha' they chose ta be... 'N I ain't no longer puttin' my family on risk for this bullshit," Daryl stated firmly and wrapped his arm around your waist; anchoring you to him. "Let's getcha outta here, sunshine."

He didn't get any further. Another voice cut suddenly through the air. Familiar, but unexpected.

"What the hell is goin' on here?"

Rick was way too stunned to speak; could only watch as his best friend guided you across the yard.

Slowly, you slid closer and placed a hand cautiously on his bare back. "D-" "I failed ya." You couldn't even utter his name, before the words spilled from his lips. "I failed ya 'n our kid. Swore ta always protect ya 'n now look wha' happened..." You sighed. Of course... He blamed himself for this. You should've seen it coming. "Dar..." You spoke up again in a hushed voice; sliding even closer to him. One hand found its way around his waist, the other still resting on his upper back. "This wasn't your fault. Please stop blaming yourself. It was Jed and Justin's doing. Not yours," you tried to soothe his raging thoughts of guilt and littered his shoulder blade with tiny kisses.

A few hours, a visit at the infirmary and a shower later, you sat in yours and Daryl's room - still in the Sanctuary; trying to process what happened.

Only the mattress dipping beside you managed to rip you out of your thoughts. Daryl, who had just taken a shower as well sat down on the edge of the bed; muscles tensed and without saying a single word. He hadn't said a lot anyways since the incident. Sure, the archer had never been a man of words, but... You could tell that something was still bothering him.

You, though, stayed awake and watched him sleep with a soft smile on your face; fingers carding through his soft, still damp hair. "I just hope you reconciled with your brother, Mr. Dixon. You both need each other and you damn well know it."

Daryl shook his head. "Nah. 'S my fault, Y/N. Should've protected both 'a ya better." "You are protecting us the best you can, Daryl," you stated firmly; shifting once again to sit beside him. "You risked your life more than once for me. And you did what was right yesterday evening. You did what you had to do. You acted like a leader should act." "But-" "Nu.Uh. No buts," you cut him off and gently placed your lips in on his to keep him from speaking; entangling them in a sweet kiss. "We're right here, okay?" You prompted; taking one of his hands and placing it on your baby bump, while you intertwined the other with yours. "We're right here and we are completely fine." Troubled eyes gazed into yours; his touch never ceasing. "'M sorry," Daryl whispered; voice quivering.

"C'mere." You laid back on the bed and gently tucked at his hand; inviting him to join you. He immediately obliged and melted against your body with his head resting on your chest, while he was holding onto you for dear life. "That's it, baby... Relax. Deep breaths." Your husband followed your words, and found himself drifting off into dreamland at some point. He was just way too exhausted and unable to resist your soothing, comforting touch.

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @lou12346789 @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @cakesandtom @mayday2007 @thevegandarkelf

[cozymoko]

I really loved your yandere cowboy OC idea (Jamie) and is it possible to ask for a part 2 or something? You have me hooked👀

My Fancy Lady

Yes, anon!

Nav. Masterlist

𐚁 Pairing. Yandere! Cowboy x City Girl! Reader

𐚁 Warning(s). slight yandere themes, subtle jealousy from reader, overall just lovey-dovey though.

𐚁 Format, word count. Scenario, 2.2k words

𐚁 Synopsis. You're returning to your home back in the city, but you wouldn't dare go without your precious cowboy.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

Jamie wasn't one for small talk—'less it was his woman doin' the talkin'. So, nights like this? Big ol’ fancy affairs? They weren’t his scene. He’d rather be anywhere else, maybe takin' on some honest work in town or catchin' a rodeo a few miles out. Hell, anything that didn’t have him stuffed into this stiff suit, collar chokin' him half to death.

But, reckon he had it comin’. You get yourself tangled up with a city girl, and suddenly you're wearin’ city clothes, trailed by folks who don’t know a lick about good, hard work. He couldn't help but stay close, though. With a pretty thing like you on his arm, he had to be. Men were wolves in these parts, sneakin' glances like they’d never seen a woman before—especially one who wasn’t theirs to look at. Made him chuckle under his breath. "What a damn shame."

Jamie stood across the ballroom, leaned up against the wall, one foot crossed over the other. He could’ve gone and greeted your folks, but Lord, your mama was a spitfire—firing off questions quicker than he could answer. He respected her, sure, and your pa too, but he’d rather keep what was left of his sanity. Just takin' in the sight of this place made his pockets ache.

Chandeliers dangled high above like crystal-studded stars, throwing soft light around the room. Gilded columns lined the walls, polished up so fine they seemed to look down on everybody else here. Tapestries hung alongside big, expensive-lookin' paintings—probably worth more than his whole ranch. The floor? It was slick as a lake after rain, shiny enough he’d bet a nickel it could trip even the steadiest cowboy.

Then there were the folks. Struttin’ around like proud peacocks, laughin' in polished tones that came off a little too uppity for his taste. Colors swirled around him—reds as bold as a fight, blues like icy temptation—colors he'd never even seen before danced across the floor. Reminded him a little of berries and fresh tomatoes, and just the thought got a chuckle outta him.

He’d never fit into this world, but it didn’t stop him from admirin’ its quirks now and then. Even so, this whole scene was like a country mile from his real life. He was just as sure he’d turn you into a cowgirl one day, but until then, he could appreciate the wonders of what money could do, even if he wouldn’t spend his hard-earned cash like this.

But there was one bright spot in all this: you.

There you were, right in the center of it all, falling into familiar voices and easy laughter. This was your world, and you looked like you belonged in it, talkin' to faces from your past who sized up the man beside you with curious glances. And yet, you smiled at them all—good and bad. Weren't you just the sweetest thing.

The cowboy stands across the ballroom, leaning against the wall, one foot tucked over the other. It's not that he didn't want to greet your folks, but your mama was a spitfire — hammering the two of you with more questions than he can count. He loved her, and your pa too, but he'd rather keep the last piece of his sanity tucked in his belt.

High society folks rubbed him wrong. Spoiled sons and daughters who’d had everything handed to 'em, struttin' through life without a lick of sense about hard work. Obnoxious, entitled, without a care for anyone who hadn’t grown up just like them. Jamie couldn’t stand it.

Yet somehow, out of all the men you coulda chosen, you picked him. What a thief, he thought with a quiet chuckle, his dark gaze never leavin' your face.

Course, he wasn’t all that innocent either—he’d done his damnedest to pull you away from this pampered life, wanted to whisk you off to the country, to his life, his world. And he’d caught you, good and proper. But that didn’t stop him from feelin' that familiar heat, the sharp taste of blood on his tongue from biting back the urge to snap at every wolf eyein' you tonight.

“Don't make a scene,” he murmured to himself like a man clingin' to a thin thread of patience.

He’d be lyin’ if he said he didn’t want you all to himself. Seein' you wrapped up in those fine silks, hair swept back in that way you liked best, lips painted in a soft color that made you glow... God, he wanted you. If he had it his way, you’d be in worn-out jeans, maybe one of his old flannels, smellin' of him and the wide open fields.

But he couldn’t tell you no. You hadn’t seen your family in months, and it just about broke his heart to see you so homesick. Jamie ain't one to go on about his old man, but if he learned one thing, it was this: happy wife, happy life. And you may not be his wife just yet, but he planned on changin' that real soon.

So to hell with all these other women, these high-class dames flittin' around the room. He didn’t care one bit about their money or their flirtin' glances. Jamie toyed with the silver pendant around his neck, tappin' his boot in time to the music.

Just then, a young woman drifted up, not much older than you, lips red as blood and curving into a sly smile. “Excuse me, sir,” she purred, “would you like to—”

“I’d be careful, sugar,” he cut in smooth, twirlin' his whiskey glass. “My wife fights. And I'd rather not see you back at your surgeon’s tonight.”

A crooked grin played on his lips as he raised his glass to his lips, his eyes catchin' yours across the room. There was only one woman he wanted on his arm, and she was wearin' a ring that matched his own.

You never thought you'd see him in a suit before your wedding, but it was quite the surprise — a pleasant one, at that.

Standing there in front of you, Jamie looked like he’d stepped right out of a magazine. Broad-shouldered, lean muscle wrapped in a midnight suit that clings just right, standing out among the tailored suits and smooth accents. The crisp white dress shirt only made his deep auburn hair look richer, slicked back smooth with every curl in place, and those dimples peeked out just as he caught you staring. His boots clack as he shifts, whiskey swirling in his hand, that silver band on his ring finger catching the glint of the chandelier. The sight of it alone sends any would-be admirer scuttling off with barely a second glance. He’s your plus one for the night, and the whole room knows it.

When he smiles, there’s a glint of trouble in his eyes, and those dimples—well, they could make even the stiffest folks around here swoon. He looks like the kind of man who just barely tolerates a tie, tugging at it with a smirk whenever he catches your gaze, as if to say, “You really think all this makes me any fancier?”

He’s still Jamie through and through: rugged under all that polish, with a bit of a roguish streak he could never quite hide. And tonight, even though he’s dressed up to meet your family and stand in this world of chandeliers and silk dresses, he’s every bit the man you fell for—charmingly untamed, with a quiet confidence that makes you weak in the knees.

Your friends try to pull you into old stories and polite gossip, but your eyes keep drifting back to him. Jamie’s gaze is steady, unwavering, as though he has little interest in the things around him. There’s a hint of a smirk playing at his lips every time he catches you staring, his dimples deepening, and that mischievous glint in his dark, loving eyes. You know that look too well. It’s possessive, fiercely protective, as if he’s daring anyone to even think about taking his bride-to-be.

The more you look at him, the more it pains you to look away. You try to play it cool, but he knows you too well—knew what to say, when to say it, and how to say it. It leaves you with thoughts from earlier in the day, making your knees weak all over again.

“My, my, he cleans up rather nicely,” a warm, familiar voice whistles beside you. “Don’t you agree, dear?” You jump, blinking back into the present, only to find your mother smiling knowingly.

“Distracted?” she teases, twirling you around to face her, an amused smile etched onto her red lips.

She glides past the group of dazzling damsels, fanning herself as she casts an appreciative glance toward Jamie. “Lord, honey,” she whispers in your ear, amused. “If he’s not about the most handsome thing I’ve ever seen—and the way he looks at you? It’s like he’s afraid the floor might steal you away.”

You laugh, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, but her words are truer than she knows. Jamie tips his glass toward you from across the room, raising it in a silent toast. There’s something soft in his expression—a flicker of mirth in his dark eyes.

You almost let them drown you, submerge you in their warmth. If not for the grating sound to your left.

"Who might that be?"

"I haven't seen him around."

"Should I ask him for a dance?"

"Do you think he's spoken for?"

"Of course, look at the jewel on his finger!"

"I quite fancy him. Shall I pursue him anyways?"

"Oh, how shameful~!"

Some of the girls here are looking his way—of course, they are. Jamie has that rugged charm, like he was carved out of southern dirt and bathed in the evening sun, with the wild confidence of a man who knows he’s got nothing to prove. His auburn hair, slicked back in a style that both respects the occasion and still says he’s a cowboy first, gives him a sharp, roguish look that’s almost out of place here, like a tiger in a cage.

But despite the glances, the obnoxious remarks, no one dares approach him. The way his eyes follow you, even from a distance, says more than words ever could. He isn’t here to be seen; he’s here for you.

Yet, it doesn’t make it any easier to hold your tongue. You’ve hosted these parties since the age of fourteen and know how people behave here—their promiscuous ways, and the men who can’t help but leer. High-class harlots looking for any man to pounce on, taken or not. Greasy men following women’s every move, provoked or not. You remember too well. This was the yearly matchmaking party hosted by four of the wealthiest families in the city, your family being one of them. It wouldn’t look good if you didn’t attend the event your household had built its reputation around.

You knew Jamie would settle on keeping to himself, yet you hadn’t thought your rugged companion would be the talk of the party. That alone makes the joy blossoming in your chest wilt. For once, it feels as though he isn’t just your fiancé, but everyone’s. Of course, you want everyone to love him as much as you do—but without undressing him with their winged eyes.

Just then, Jamie makes his way over, his familiar smirk making your heart skip a beat. “Sugar,” he says, poking the soft flesh of your cheek, his eyes gleaming with a familiar, mischievous warmth. When he finally makes his way back to you, he tips his drink up, raising a brow. “Sugarplum.”

His words go in one ear and out the other, turning fuzzy and static as they pass through your mind. A deep frown settles at the corners of your lips as exasperation bubbles over.

“Jamie, stop it!” you huff, swatting his hands away. “You’ll ruin my makeup, you damn brute.”

“Yeah, yeah…” he murmurs, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. But he doesn’t bother moving his hand from the top of your head, his fingers gently brushing through your hair as if daring you to protest again. You turn away, cheeks flushed, doing your best to regain the poise you usually wear like a crown.

Jamie notices the pout you're trying to hide, his lips curling in amusement. For all your princess-like composure, you’re showing more than you realize tonight. He leans down, his voice low and teasing.

“Don’t pout, pumpkin. Fix your face.”

You glare up at him, crossing your arms, but he just chuckles, reaching for your hand. Before you can react, he pulls you closer, his grip firm yet careful, as if he were holding something precious.

“Remember, Sugar,” he murmurs, giving your kiss a long, playful smooch. MUAH! “You’re the main character.”

With a playful glint in his eye, he twirls you around, his hand never leaving yours as he guides you in a slow, elegant spin. You can’t help but let out a surprised laugh, your frown dissolving as he twirls you like with practiced ease.

Only then had you decided.

That night was quite the surprise indeed—

A pleasant one at that.

©CozyMoko, all rights reserved. Don't repost my work on other platforms.

[whoskimii]

I'M HERE! - FT. G.S ~ N.K ~ F.T 𖹭

- masterlists -

- fluff masterlist -

just you and your fav takin' care of each other <33 based on this ask!

˗ˏˋ gojo satoru ´ˎ˗

"i promise i'll come back, 'toru." you reassured him with a soft smile on your face. "we'll be together again." he was horrified. his heart was beating so fast. so fast he believed that it was going to explode.

but the worst is that he couldn't move. at all. all he could do was talk, and talk— just trying to convince you not to jump off that roof. it was like he was stuck to the ground. "baby, look at me, lookatme," he fumbled with his words. "don't do this, okay ? y'hear me ? we're already—" you simply smiled. "i love you, satoru."

he woke up the second you let yourself fall back. his bare chest was heaving up and down rapidly, glistening with a fine layer of sheer sweat. he instinctively looked to his side— only to see you there, safe and sound. sleeping peacefully, tucked into his side.

he breathed out, relieved. he attempted to take deep breaths but he couldn't calm down. he needed to feel you, needed to know you were indeed okay. he slowly laid on his side, facing you. he gently caressed your cheek with his thumb before wrapping his arms around you. your soft body instinctively reacted to him, prompting you to wake up. "'toru...?" you mumbled, still half-asleep. he didn't respond.

weird.

"satoru ?" you tried again but he only tightened his hold on you. "yes...?" he whispered. "is something wrong ?" he sighed. "i just... jus' had a bad dream, baby. don't worry 'bout me." you hummed. "what was it ?" you were curious. "it was... nothing. it was nothing." you frowned softly. "'toru..." you mumbled, your tone indicating that you desired to know. you were worried.

with another sigh, he braced himself on his elbow and glanced down at you. "you... it was about you. you were on a roof, and... i... i really tried, but you still..." he couldn't say the rest as his throat tightened and began to burn. "you still jumped. it... it felt real, y'know..." you wrapped your arms around his neck and he instantly reciprocated the embrace before burying his face into your neck. "m'here, 'toru... it was jus' a bad dream. it wasn't real. i'm still here..." you murdered, gently playing with his undercut.

he nodded. "i know... but it felt so real, i... i didn't know what to do." he placed his forehead on yours and gently caressed the side of your neck. "i already lost a lot of people, y'know ? but i can't lose you. not you. if you die, i die." his lips met yours. you both shared a slow kiss. "i love you." you murdered against his lips. "i love you more." he rushed to say.

˗ˏˋ nanami kento ´ˎ˗

"ken, i'm so sorry," you cried. "i'm so sorry, it wasn't supposed to finish that way." he froze. was he about to witness his lover's sacrifice ? yes. but no. it couldn't happen. they were supposed to have kids, and grow old together. it couldn't go this way, it was wrong. "my love—" you shook your head with tears in your eyes. but you were smiling.

smiling.

you were always smiling. kento admired you for this. you always had a reason to smile. even during the darkest days, you managed to cheer him up, lift his spirits. "we'll meet again," you assured him. "in another universe. i love you."

kento jolted awake, his usual well-kept and neat hair sticking to his damp forehead. he was drenched in sweat— even the sheets were soaked. he looked over his shoulder to glance down at you. and here you were. sleeping the night away. your husband could stare at you all day, just appreciating your beauty without ever getting tired of it. even conscious, your words haunted his soul.

he sighed and ran a hand through his sweaty hair before laying back down. as he shifted, you woke up. "ken...?" you yawned. "my love... go back to sleep, alright ? it's late." he placed his hand on your waist and kissed your forehead. you moved closer to him but you frowned as your hand met the sheets. "why are—" he sighed. "i'm sweating."

you frowned softly. "you're sweating ? but it's cold... are you okay ? do you have a fever ?" he shook his head. "no, i just... had a nightmare. i'm okay, baby, don't worry." a small hum left your pretty lips. "you had a nightmare...? do you want to talk about it ?" you suggested. "it's... it was about you. something bad happened, and..." a deep sigh escaped him. "i don't want to say the rest."

you could clearly notice how tense your husband was. even a blind man could see it. it was obvious. "something bad happened to me, mhm ?" you guessed. "it was just a bad dream, ken... nothing more. i'm still here." he placed his head on your chest, holding your waist tightly. he listened to your heartbeat. you were still there, beside him. alive. "it was horrible." he admitted in a whisper. "i don't know how i'd keep going if you weren't there anymore. you're a part of me." he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles. "we'll die together. it's a promise."

˗ˏˋ toji fushiguro ´ˎ˗

"s'for money, doll. a damn lot of it. m'sure you understand, huh ? 'course you do." your eyes widened as you tried to find an escape. but there was none. your surroundings were completely white. it was just him, you and his gun. "toji, don't do this. please. i... i thought you loved me—!" he chuckled. you usually loved when he laughed, but this time, it only sent a shiver down your spine.

it didn't sound like the usual laughs he'd let out around you. it was cold. almost condescending. "i do, lil' one. i do. but you understand, right ? c'mon, don't be difficult now." he pointed his gun at you and before you could even do anything, you woke up.

you jolted awake with a racing heart. as you finally took in your surroundings, including the big man sleeping beside you, you sighed. you glanced at him as his snores finally stopped. "mhm...?" he mumbled sleepily. "why're you up, huh...?" he whispered and sat up groggily, letting out a small groan as he did so. "i had a nightmare." you muttered, eyes glued to the wall in front of you.

he scoffed softly. "yeah ? did the little thing dream about monsters and—" you shrugged. "you killed me. for money." oh. "goodnight."

he blinked once, twice— three times. when you finally settled on your side, you couldn't help but feel bad. it was almost like your nightmare had planted a small thought in your head. the thought that you didn't matter to him, and that he could actually do this. "what...?" toji had seen and heard a lot in his life, but never this. "you know i'd never do that, right ?" he frowned. you didn't respond so he laid beside you and wrapped his muscular arms around your warm body. "hey. y'hear me ? i'd never do that." you shrugged.

"you did that many times. what would stop you from doing it to me ?" he scoffed. were you dumb ? "you said it, dollie. 'cause it's you. i'd never kill the woman i love. not even for a big amount of cash." you sighed. "i don't know, it felt... real. promise...?" he couldn't help but roll his eyes. "are you serious ? that's really what you think of me ? you think i'd—" you kissed him before he could finish his sentence.

he melted into the kiss, gently squeezing your waist. "i love you too much to do that shit t'you." you hummed against his lips. "love you."

yayyy do you guys want me to do this with other characters :33

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

pervyroomate!Satoru who can't believe his luck when you answer his online ad for a roomate: "What made you seek out a male roommate, honey? Ain't cha scared the big bad wolf is gonna get ya in your sleep?" You scoff with a heavy eye roll. "Fuck no." He can't stop the smile slowly forming on his pretty face. 'Ya should be.' He thinks, already imagining how'd look naked and squirming beneath him as he made you cry on his cock.

pervyroomate!Satoru that despite his amazing mouth-watering muscles, he mostly watched as you move your belongings into his spacious 2 bd apt: "What the fuck, Gojo? You specifically demanded I not hire movers as you're 'stronger than any of those limp dick fuckers.'" You can't see how he leans against the wall amused, arms crossed and intently staring at the way your small cotton shorts gets lost between your plump brown ass cheeks as you struggle takin boxes to your new bedroom. "Sorry, the views just so damn spectacular. Lookin so fuckin good, baby." Your cheeks warm in embarrasment as you abandon the heavy box, rush into the room and slam the door. Satoru only chuckles, fixin his raging boner as he heads downstairs to get the rest of your stuff.

pervyroomate!Satoru does anything he can in the upcoming weeks to rile you up by any means: "Gojo, put on some goddamn clothes for christ sake. My girls are gone be here soon and none of em wanna see that fuckin shit." You grumble as you sit on the couch and turn on the Netflix app. He laughs heartily, dramatically ploppin down next to you. Its impossible not to notice how his naked chest ripples, how low his black briefs sit on his hips. His hypnotic ocean blue eyes linger on your thick cocoa thighs before meeting your gaze. "Fabrications. Your BFF cornered me in our kitchen just the other day.. Damn near begged me to dick her down. Wanted so bad to tell her I'm savin that for you." He leans in close to your stunned face to whisper his last sentence and gets up, heading to his bedroom. Your left starin at his spot on the couch with wide eyes and wet panties.

pervyroomate!Satoru purposely switched out the dark shower curtain a few months into you moving in with a clear one, finding any reason to disturb your alone time: "Hey y/n, need to brush my teeth real fast." Doesn't bother knocking, quickly stepping in before you have time to cover your wet body. His eyes seem a shade darker as he scans up and down your soapy, naked frame. A small 'fuck' escaping his pretty lips as he stares unashamed. "Gojo, what the hell?!" You screech, arms quickly covering your glistening breasts as you cup your other hand over your pussy. You could literally melt on the spot at the way she clenches at his intense gaze. "Get the fuck out!" The damn pervert looks on for a moment longer, actually having the audacity to palm his cock a few times. "Okay okay, baby, damn. Why you gotta be like that? You showed me yours, don't you want me to show you mine?" He asks with pouty lips as he finally backs out the bathroom, arms raised in surrender. You stop shielding your tits to throw a bar of dove soap at his stark white locks. He only chuckles, quickly shutting the door to avoid impact. "Fuckin creep, Gojo!!"

pervyroomate!Satoru flirts with you relentlessly, crossing every boundary and every line over the next few months: "You gettin the snacks, babe?" Satoru calls from the front room. You roll your eyes at the pet name before you feel a stinging SMACK! to your plump behind. "Ow, Gojo! You fuckin asshole. Quit it!" You swat at the childish nuisance but he dodges your attack easily, leaning against the kitchen counter a few feet away. Fuckin guy has spent the better part of the day smackin your ass while yelling 'Smack Ass Friday!' like a damn teenager. "Awe, come on pretty! Love watchin how your ass bounces when I do it." He coos at you before swerving a bag of doritos you quickly chuck his way. "Boy, I don't give a fuck. You touch it again and you're goin down." It's insulting how lightly he takes your threat; walking right up, grabbin a handful of each ass cheek and smashing your hips together. His half hard dick feels chubby as fuck against you, girth of him makin you gasp and clutch as his shoulders. Your insides clench at the feelin of him pressed against you. "Fuck, I been waitin to go down on you. Name the time and place sweetheart." He tells you sweetly, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip, kissing you on the cheek and retreating to the living room. Damn this man must love leaving you speechless, heart and pussy fluttering to his dirty words.

pervyroomate!Satoru notices how much you love how he smells: whether it's his natural scent or cologne. You take his shirts without his permission too often, only wantin the ones he'd previously worn. Loves how he comes home late one night and catches you in one of his stolen white t-shirts. Neckline pulled up to your nose, tittes jiggling wildly underneath as you play with yourself. He stares between the crack of your bedroom door, hand swiftly squeezin at his dick as he watches you mindlessly rub yourself over your underwear. y/e/c eyes shut tight, quietly moaning his name like a fuckin prayer. "Toruuuuu! Fuh-uuuck Satoru, love how you smell. Mmmm, soooo good. Want you so m-much, need you to fuck me Toru!" His mouth hangs wide open as he humps his hand faster atop his light blue jeans, absolutely entranced how you frantically rub at your throbbing lil pearl. "Ahhhh! Oh my god, Toru please!" He's so greatful for a front row seat to witness you cum like a fuckin virgin. Fuck are you one?Can't help his deranged whisper as he commits the scene to memory. "That's it, baby. Cum for me. Fuck.. I know that lil pussy's so gushy for me right now. Can't wait to see it up close, gonna make her cream all over me pretty girl." Head pushed back into your fluffy pink pillow, pretty y/h/c hair splayed out makin you look like a goddess in the throes of passion to him. "Wanna cum on your cock, Satoruuuu!" His shirt rides up on you, showing him how your tummy pudge jiggles as your body convulses into an arch. You bite your lip to muffle the rest of your pleasure. It's okay. The sight is enough for Satoru. He paints the inside of his new jeans immediately, free hand cupped over his mouth as his eyes roll back, his hips repeatedly jerking his clothed spasming cock into the palm of his hand.

pervyroomate!Satoru who asks you the nastiest shit just to see you sexually flustered: You're in bed reading, back against the headboard with Satoru's head in your lap. Your hand carelessly cards through his soft hair, nails lightly scratchin at his scalp. So cute the way he whines at you to continue everytime you accidentally pause as you get to a good part in your book. "Hey baby?" His voice so innocent that you know for a fact the next words outta his mouth are gonna be filthy as fuck. "Yeah?" "How come you only call me Satoru when you're on your back, fingers in that pretty lil pussy?" His tone is laced with the genuine wonder of a child asking a simple question. Your jaw might as well be on the floor. "G-Gojo!" Shocked exclamation half accusatory, half scolding. "What? I really wanna know, y/n. Sound as pretty as you looked in my shirt when you moan it like you did the other night; made me cum so hard listenin." He's lookin up at you upside down but you're absolutely mortified, using your book to hide your face. What do you even say to him right now? "Aww, baby don't be shy. I do it when I think about you too. Cept I usually have a pair of your panties up to my nose." He shares with you happily and unapologetic, pulling the book from your fingers to toss it to the floor. "I wanna hear you say it like that again." Turning on his belly to leer at your clothed pussy through your tiny bottoms. Your breath picks up in anticipation, starin as his fine ass leans foward and gives a slow lick from slit to clit. The urgent, intense sensations has you squealing out his name as you slide both hands into his hair. "Satoruuu!" Slidin your shorts to the side, admiring your moist plump pussy lips. "Fuck baby, say it again. Just like that." He commands you, latching onto your sensitive lil button. All you can do is comply, buckin into his mouth as you wail 'Satoru' over and over to the damn heavens.

[pinkthrone445]

~Partner in crime~ Part 1

Part 2

Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender:soft, cute, young Melissa

Warnings:I don't think so

Summary :When they send you to work back in your home town, you start to recall all your memories from your teen years involving the redhead.

For the first time in 20 years, you returned to the city where you spent your teen years, again in Philly, again at the last place that you felt like home.

While you were arranging the last things on your desk at the police station, one of your new co-workers left a folder on your desk with the latest cases that needed investigation, setting the last detail on the table, you sat down and opened the folder, immediately a surname caught your attention, Schemmenti. A soft laugh came from your lips, might a lightning struck you if it wasn't fate that caused that coincidence. From the moment you were told that you would be transferred to Philly to work, you started thinking about the redhead and all the memories together from your childhood, and now her last name was rigth in front of you like a sing from destiny.

The memories of the first time you saw her came back immediately...

-Many years ago-

This was the worst thing that could happen to you, 5 years since your mother passed away your life began to go into a tailspin, not only did you lose your best friend and confidant, but also your father had married a new woman and they had decided to go live together in a new place forcing you to spend time with her and her children who treated you very badly. You couldn't wait until you were two years older to be considered an adult and be able to leave that house.

However, it couldn't be all bad, when you moved to the new neighborhood, you got to know the Schemmenti family, a family with too many children and too much temperament, but no matter how crazy they were, no one were more kind to you than them. The family was made up of 5 sisters and 4 brothers, they all welcomed you immediately, but a special redhead started to take care of you and treat you as if you were part of her family too.

The first day you arrived in the neighborhood she brought freshly baked cookies for everyone. As you were returning to the moving truck to get more things to unload, your eyes fell on her, she was a few years older than you and her red hair like a sunset and her amazing body immediately caught your attention, her smile was shining too brightly and that plate she was holding gave off an incredible aroma that made your stomach growl immediately

-"Hi neighbor... I'm Melissa and he is my little brother Tony...-The young redhead spoke pointing to a skinny little kid beside her with her free hand-"We are your neighbors from across the street and we brought you cookies to say welcome"-You stood watching her without making any move, debating in your mind whether she was real or had come out of your deepest fantasies in your head, since she was too perfect to be true. One of your half-brothers pushed you out of the way takin you out of your trance, making you stumble and fall on the grass so that he could talk to the redhead

-"Don't pay attention to her, she's a looser and stupid girl, don't waste time with her, I'm much more interesting" - He said and went to grab a cookie from her plate, but she moved it away looking at him with a big frown. While your half-brother was much taller than her, Melissa's look was intimidating and made your brother take a few steps back. She handed the plate to Tony, her little brother, and walked beside you, stretching out her hand to help you up. Once you got up, she helped you shake your clothes off the grass that had stuck

-"You okay Hon?" - she asked and you nodded smiling a little

-"Thank you... I'm (Y/N)" - You said softly and she smiled too

-"A lovely name... Do you need help with those boxes? We are too many siblings and we are bored today"-she offered and you smiled so much more

-"Are you real? Because you seem and act like an angel to me" - You said without thinking and she laughed

-"Where did you get that cheesy phrase from? Some old TV show?"-she made fun of you and you blushed making her regret what she said immediately- "I'm sorry, it was just a joke, let's go, we will help."

With the extra set of hands, in a short time you finished emptying the moving truck and assembling some furniture, giving you some time to rest and regain energy. The redhead and her little brother sat next to you on the front steps of your house sharing some cookies, which although they had already cooled, were still delicious.

-"So... Tell me about you, what made you move to this side of Philly? Your dad's work? School? Murder plans? Government problems?" - she asked bitting a cookie

-"Dad's new family wanted for us to move with them when they got married, no space for arguing. So they bought this house so we all could fit, and I had to change school and everything to come here even though I didn't wanted to and I begged to stay with my grandma... I'm sorry our story it's not very exiting... What about all of you? You were born here?"-it was your turn to ask while you took a sip from the carton of milk that she had brought from her house

-"Yeah, most of us were born in that house, even my mom was born there. The only one who was born in another place was one of my oldest siblings, he is a son of my dad's side before he married mom...No fun origin story from my side either, but my family it's pretty fun and having so much siblings make easy to get away with almost anything. I just have to do enough to stay in my mom's top five and keep being my nana's favorite"-she took the carton out of your hand taking a sip too

-"No matter what I do, I'm always on the bottom of the podium for my dad and for my stepmother I'm not even in the competition" - You said with your mouth full and she looked at you worried and sad for you

-"Catherine! Tony! Come! Mom says that the food is ready and you have to set the table!" - one of her sisters yelled from the door across the street and the little brother ran to the other side of the street immediately

-"Ugh, that's Kristin Marie, my blackmailer and the most annoying of my siblings. Do you want to eat with us? You will love nana's food!"- she invited you standing up and you looked at her confused

-"Won't she get mad? They aren't expecting me to go there to eat" - You said a little bit shy and she made a dismissive face

-"Don't worry about it, we are too many, she won't even notice" - she grabbed your hand pulling you with her.

Immediately when you entered the house, there were siblings of different ages and heights occupying every corner of the house, they were all talking loudly trying to make themselves heard, their mother and nana were in the kitchen humming some Italian song that came from the radio and a beautiful puppy ran between your legs. The house was very picturesque, the armchairs covered with plastic and decorated with colorful cushions, the walls of each room were of different colors and some had an embroidery decoration. The plates and cups had flowers painted on them and the room was filled with the aroma of coffee, in the center of the table a clay vase on a beautiful and delicate fabric. All the furniture had different decoration figurines on top and the walls were full of photos and frames as if they were telling a story.

There were plants in every corner of every room and a few toys on the carpet indicating that the little ones had been playing until recently.

As you crossed paths with the redhead's brothers and sisters, she introduced them to you, they all greeted you attentively and took advantage of the moment to fight or joke with the redhead about something insignificant.

When you met and greeted almost all the siblings, you helped Melissa set up and arrange the dishes on the table. Her nana came out of the kitchen carrying a pot almost as big as her, placing it on the table on a kitchen towel next to a ladle. Her mother came carrying three different varieties of salads and also put it on the table next to a few pieces of bread. The moment her grandmother uncovered the big pot, her glasses fogged up and a delicious aroma reached your nose, making you salivate immediately. The old woman served the pasta with the sauce on each plate and everyone started passing the dishes to the next sibling sitting beside them so everyone got a serving, then they passed you the cheasse so you could grate a little bit on your plate. Her Nana blessed the food and everyone started eating immediately.

You let out a hum of approval as soon the food touched your tongue

-"Are you enjoying it kiddo?"-Her nana talked and when you lifted your eyes, you saw her looking at you

-"I am ma'am, it's fantastic. It's been years since I ate something so delicious, thank you very much for the love you have put into this food" - You said having another spoon full

-"That's so sweet... When did you had this kid?" - The redhead's grandmother asked her daughter and she laughed

-"Mom, that kid it's not mine, I don't know where she came from" - The redhead's mother explained and you blushed

-"I invited her to lunch, she is the new neighbor of the house across the street"-Melissa explained and her mother nodded

-"Oh... How old are you sweetheart?" - Her grandma asked

-"I'm about to turn 17 in a few weeks ma'am" - You answer being as polite as you could

-"Please, call me Nana as all the other kids, ma'am makes me feel so old"-The woman touched her hair in a fancy and playful way

-"You are old nana" - one of the youngest of the kids said innocently

-"And you lost your right to dessert" - The grandmother quickly answered making you all laugh.

After the meal, they served an amazing and delicious tiramissu that made your stomach feel butterflies.

When everyone finished eating, you helped clear the table and the redhead decided to show you the rest of the house.

You learned that she shared a room with one of her older sisters, the room was perfectly divided in two by the different decorations that each one had placed on each side. It had a big window on the side that the redhead slept on, that made her have the perfect view to your window, that for some reason made you smile.

At the end of the tour, Melissa's Nana packed you some leftovers from the food and the dessert before you went to your house.

As soon as you opened the door, your dad started to talk at you really loudly, almost yelling. He was mad because you spend more time in the neighbor's house than planed and you didn't come back home sooner to help finish the furniture, even your step siblings got mad at you because they had to do a little more work. But nothing could change the happiness you had that moment for finding such a good future friend.

When night came and you were about to fall asleep, you felt a soft knock on the window, scared you grabbed your hockey stick and went to open it.

What kind of thief would knock on the window before entering? You didn't know, but you preferred to be cautious.

You didn't understand how someone could hit your window if you were on the second floor of the house. When you opened it, you almost hit the redhead on the head, but you stopped just in time as you recognized her. She was up in a tree in your garden, sitting in a branch that was really close to your window, smiling at you maliciously when she saw your scared face

-"What are you doing here Melissa?! you almost scare me to death" - You said putting the stick on the floor

-"I like to see that you can take care of yourself... Come on, follow me" - she said without waiting for an answer, climbing the tree higher. A little scared by the height, you followed her, trying to imitate the agility and security with which she climbed each branch. Before you could say anything else, the redhead climbed and jumped a small gap onto the roof of your house and stretched out her hand to help you do the same, unsure you looked down and hugged the branch tightly

-"Come on! I used to do this all the time when the house was for sale, come, trust me, I will help" - she insisted still with her hand stretched. With trembling all over your body, you took her hand and as soon as she saw you letting go of the tree, she pulled your arm tightly pulling you into her body passing the small gap, holding you close until you finally opened your eyes and noticed that you were on firm ground on the roof-"See? You can trust me" - she said and you nodded separating from her body

-"What are you doing here at this time of the night?" - You asked her and she sat on the roof, taking two spoons and an ice cream carton from her backpack, patting the place beside her, carefully you sat too, taking a spoon

-"I just wanted to eat ice cream without my brothers stealing from me... And see the stars... And to know more about you... You know, since we'll be neighbors... I want to assure that I'm choosing my future partner in crime wisely" - she said laughing and eating the ice cream with you.

[4zayne]

HOW JJK MEN REACT TO YOU GIVING HEAD.

FT. GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU, TOJI FUSHIGURO, & NANAMI KENTO.

ᡴꪫ‎ synopsis: each of them have their own reactions to you offering/giving them head; some rough, some gentle (for the most part). which one's your favori cw: fem!reader, smut, degredation, praise, dirty talk, face fucking, pet names (baby, princess, angel, cockslut, love)

GOJO loves when you offer to suck him off, as well as the face you make when you wrap your pretty lips around his girthy shaft while you're watching a movie together. the sound of voices and sound effects becoming background noise. he loved the sight of your small hand stroking whatever you couldn't fit in your mouth, and how warm the inside of your mouth felt, including your tongue gliding along the vein that ran down his lengthy cock. "looks like someone couldn't wait to have a cock stuffed in their pretty little mouth, a'int that right baby?" gojo had a shit-eating grin on his face as he watched tears well up in your eyes, hearing the noises of you choking and gagging on his cock, inching your mouth a little deeper each time until you reached the base. that right there set him off almost instantly, causing a choked moan to leave him, though it was followed with a deep chuckle. his large hands take hold of both sides of your head, guiding you down onto his cock. "mnh fuck, just like that. look at you takin' me so well. gonna have to reward you by fuckin' ya real nice. how's that sound, beautiful?"

GETO would never refuse you giving him head, in fact, he always winds up getting carried away most of the time. so while he took you away upstairs to his bedroom while his childhood friends were over, his eyes following your every movement as you take his cock down your throat, looking up at him with half-lidded teary eyes. that already fucked out expression of yours drove him crazy. geto made a makeshift ponytail with your loose hair, his head leaning back in pleasure as he let out a strangled groan. his eyes soon met yours, looking up at him with a dazed look on your face, eyes shutting closed suddenly from his tip hitting the back of your throat. "so pretty for me, sucking my cock like the needy girl you are." he gritted his teeth, feeling his cock twitch with diligence between your lips, seeking for release. your tongue did wonders, wrapping it around his shaft and hollowing your cheeks, sucking him in the depths of your mouth skillfully. ".. shit, love, you're doing so good. bet you love being such a good girl for me, don't you?"

TOJI never really seemed to be hyped at the idea of whether or not you sucked him off, but every since you were away for the weekend with some friends, he's been desperate for your touch. fisting his cock to the thought of you, imagining your hand in replacement to his. until you finally came back, now on your knees in front of him with your soft lips wrapped around his thick cock. it practically made your jaw sore from how big he was, struggling to take him as he just looked down at you with a smug grin. "missed this pretty mouth real bad. couldn't stand bein' away from my needy lil' slut." he licked his lips as he fucked your throat, hands tugging at your hair while drool seeped down the side of your mouth, practically seeing stars from the roughness and speed of his thrusts. he was right though, all you thought about was toji. wanting him inside you, and in your mouth, using you as his personal toy to use whenever he pleased. "g'nna fuck this mouth and then that drippin' cunt that's been leakin' this whole time. g'nna be good just f'me, yeah?"

NANAMI is always focused and determined to finish his work for the day, stressed with the amount of paperwork he'd have to finish before he clocks out exactly at 5pm. and while he's reading important documents and looking through files, he has you under his desk, his cock stuffed into the sweet warmth of your mouth, relieving him of any stress he previously felt prior to your assistance. a raspy, quiet groan elicited from his throat, looking down at you in between his legs with those red and teary eyes of yours. "such a lovely sight you are, sweet thing. do you enjoy sucking my cock? helping your boss feel better?" all you could do was hum in response, sending a vibration up his shaft that made him shudder in an instant. his right hand tucked a piece of loose hair behind your ear, his large palm cupping your cheek. a few of his buttons were undone, having to loosen his tie as well from how hot he was getting from your mouth and tongue pleasuring him so nicely. he could definitely get used to this, more than happy to have you under his desk to be his sense of relief. "i should give you a raise for being such a good little assistant for me, maybe even have you as my permanent desk pet. would you like that, princess?"

© 4zayne do not reuse, steal or translate.

[lizzy019]

Hey hey!! I'm the anon who requested the poly Daniel Larusso and Johnny Lawrence fic, but if u wanted u could do a blurb just to get it off the list?

Also bc u have full creative freedom it might be nice

Idk, in my experience only writing other people's ideas for a while can lead to some killer burn out and I would hate if u got that :((

Ily, have such a nice day, drink water, all that stuff!! 🫶🫶

Thanks babe! I'll try 😭 I'm lacking motivation lately. I used GN reader for this, I hope you don't mind! <3

~~~~~~~~~ 18+ ~~~~~~~~~~~🌿~~~~~~~~~~~ 18+ ~~~~~~~~~

"Whimperin' and moanin', like a bitch in heat. Bet your little Danny just adores it, huh?" Johnny snarled as you gagged on Daniel's cock.

Locked in an Eiffel Tower position, you felt utterly useless but to succumb to the two men. You really were like a dog in heat, taking everything they so graciously handed to you whether it be given aggressively or kindly. You took what you got and were thankful for it.

"Oh fuckin'- ah shit! Oh baby! Yeah baby, suck it! Suck it real go-oh fuck!" Daniel was such a bloody mess, his legs were barely holding him up if it weren't for Johnny's rough hands holding him still.

Johnny was smirking like he'd accomplished the greatest thing known to man, pounding into your wee, puffy little hole with vigour as you practically ate Daniel's cock.

It was stupid, all of this stemming from who had the biggest cock and who could last the longest.

But could you really find it in you to care when you were being used like a sex doll? No, you were enjoying it too much to really find a reason to complain.

Your body was sore, your back hurt from the constant arching and moving to adjust for the sake of your comfort, but it was always overtaken by Johnny pushing a hand back against you to keep you from moving.

"They're so good for us, aren't they, Danny? Look at 'em, just takin' these two cocks like a bitch. Bet they like it too, huh? Don't you? Don't you? Come on, fuckin' say it!" Johnny was cold with his words, as if trying to keep his cool even if he was staggering too.

He knew you couldn't speak with your mouth full of Daniel's cock, he just wanted an excuse to give your ass a slap, albeit not hard enough to hurt you.

Without any warning, Daniel had moaned just a bit too loudly as his hot semen filled your mouth and slicked your throat. It tasted yummy, as odd as it sounded. Like salt, but creamy and tangy with just a bit of sweetness to it.

Daniel didn't even seem to feel bad about losing and cumming first, he simply collapsed and let you use his body as something to lean on.

And sure enough, Johnny wasn't far behind as his cum spurted out of his urethra and into the condom he wore to protect you from his children ruining your hole and undergarments.

Poor Daniel, he had to catch you when you collapsed on top of him, and make sure he wasn't crushed under the weight of Johnny on top of you both.

But it was cozy, and you had to admit that being with these two men was nice, warm, and enjoyable.

"Johnny... next time, you should moan like me too. It gets 'em off." Daniel teased, kissing your head to soften the embarrassment he so obviously brought you while Johnny only laughed.

"Pfft, that's gay." Johnny muttered, rolling over to lay on his back and away from you two.

"...Johnny, you are gay." Daniel laughed.

Johnny simply shot him a look before trying to close his eyes and get some sleep. However, you were already long gone into your little sleep.

I kept messing up Johnny and Daniel because Ralph Macchio plays Daniel but he also plays Johnny in The Outsiders, so I had to edit this six times 😭

[glossykissies]

Butcher's hatred for vought only worsening after meeting hybrid!puppy reader bc of what they did to her makes me so sad :( he's just an old angry man who gives off ultimate protective daddy vibes

ok trigger warning for this arc bc it goes into her abuse but

yes bc i feel like it takes a while for her to understand that the abuse she faced wasn’t okay / normal and it’s not just butcher that feels that way it’s everyone. like whenever she messes up infront of the boys she just puts her head down and braces, and when hughies like “wait, what are you doing?” pup is all

“oh, well, back at the lab if i messed up they’d punch me in the stomach real hard so i don’t do it again?” :(((((

and m.m has to take her aside and explain that she’s not gonna be physically assaulted for messing up, especially not over something so tiny? “no one is laying a hand on you in here, you hear me? if they do? they’ll have to answer to me.” he adds the last part with a playful smile, trying to keep the tone light — but upon turning to you, his face falls, seeing the tears on your cheeks.

“really?”

“what— yeah. we may be a bunch of ruthless motherfuckers but beating on someone as defenceless as you — no offence, well that’s where i draw the line. look, you’re safe here kid.” he turns his full body to you, large frame crouched a little subconsciously to seem less intimidating. “don’t mean you won’t get yelled at by butcher from time to time, but i’m tryna get a handle on that.” he pats your back with a smile, shuffling to get up but you throw your arms around him.

“thank you, m.m.”

his brow creases, knowing that sort of thing shouldn’t warrant a thank you.

“we’re takin’ this one step at a time.” he hums.

kimiko also serves as great comfort, knowing what it’s like to face abuse and be confused when faced with kindness. sometimes she finds you sitting alone, not your usual energetic self and she comes and sits with you — typing things out on her phone to communicate with you.

are you having a bad day?

“yeah. i don’t miss the lab, but sometimes i wish i didn’t have the responsibility of being a full… person. at least when people treated me like a dog i didn’t have to think too hard.” you sigh and she nods, taking a moment to type.

i understand. i don’t miss my past, but some days i kind of wish i could go back just so i could hang out with my brother one more time.

“yeah. i get that.”

after a pause, she types some more.

did you have any brothers or sisters?

“no. it was just me. i always wished i had a sister to play with though.”

kimiko smiles, happily typing something into her phone before proudly turning it around.

well guess what? we’re sisters now. you can be my little sister. i always wanted one of those.

you beam, tail thudding the side of the chair you’re curled on as it starts to wag and your mood is infectious, the girl throwing her arm around you into a side hug.

butchers hate does infact worsen and it causes him to act up, get more violent than before — violently destroying anyone with a finger dipped into the vought pie. you always assumed it was because of his own past, but one day you witnessed him beating on someone who had something to do with the hybrid operation. cowering in the doorway, you try to keep your frightened whimpers at bay at hear him berating the bloody man through grit teeth.

“what you did to ‘er? what your fuckin’ people did to that girl? she’ll never be the bloody same and that’s all because of you. you’re gonna rot in hell, cunt.” before delivering the final blow to his skull.

you’re shaking, and only when he’s pulled himself off the corpse he sees you— having watched the entire thing. he softens slightly, eyes flickering with shame as he presses his lips together but you slowly approach, wide eyed.

“dont be scared pup, i ain’t… i just couldn’t let ‘im get away with it. can’t let scum like that keep walkin’ this earth.” he thinks you might bolt, like he’s seen you do on other occasions— but this time you approach, wrapping your arms around him, nuzzling into him, ears twitching, tail wrapping around his thigh.

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

"Well someone's home early." Darry ruffles Pony's hair as he tries to slip past him 'n into the hall. Pony ducks under his hand, makes a small noise in hello. Darry immediately straightens up, notes the lack of work shirt he left with this mornin'. "Ponyboy Michael back it up 'n bring it here."

Pony lets out a long groan but turns 'n trudges back. Darry rakes his eyes over him. Pony stares at the ground. "Why are you back so early?"

"'Cause I got fired ok! Jesus!" Pony throws his arms up, stomps the ground, 'n whips his head to look back at his older brother.

"You what?" Pony lets out a huff 'n quick smart Darry's hand flies up to cuff him around the ear. "Pony this is the fourth time what the hell happened? And let me tell you it better be a damn good reason."

Pony can only match Darry's glare for a moment before he drops back down to starin' at the carpet. "I kinda called a customer a bitch."

"You huh?"

"Look, Darry, you weren't there so lay off, ok! She was talkin' to me like a was trash, alright? I dunno. She was actin' like I was stupid 'n she called me a son of a bitch 'n I told her I wasn't her damn son last I checked." Pony hitches his shoulder 'n Darry is suddenly glad Pony's scowlin' down at the carpet by the way his lips twitch. It wasn't funny.

"Ponyboy Michael since when has it ever been ok in this house to call a woman that?"

"Since she deserved it real bad." Pony mutters 'n Darry's fingers catch his temple. "Ow."

"I outta skin you just for that."

"Aw, Dar, look. I'm sorry, ok? I ain't discriminatin' or nothin'. If she'd have been a guy he would have been actin' like a bitch too." Pony scuffs his toe on the floor 'n Darry shakes his head in bewilderment.

Glory, sometimes Pony would say somethin' 'n it would make Darry feel like he was twenty 'n Pony was fourteen again 'n Pony's moods were enough to make him want to put the kid's head through a wall. 'N then he'd blink 'n they were sixteen 'n ten 'n he actually would. But that one hurts a bit 'cause then they had someone to holler 'n make them make up.

"Pony, how old are you?" Pony rolls his eyes, already knows Darry's line.

"Too old?" Pony glances up 'n Darry arranges his features into a passable impression of their ma's does it look like I'm laughin', mister? glare.

"Too damn old." Darry nods firmly. "You're sixteen now, Pone. You need to get a hold of that mouth. How many times are we gonna have to have this conversation?"

"Too damn many times- yeouch!" Darry's palm clips the back of his head 'n Pony's hair falls into his eyes.

"Don't you go gettin' fresh with me lil' boy." Pony's dry humor suddenly falls away 'n he's spittin' mad.

"Darry, you wouldn't get it, alright? I'm sick of workin' for a bunch of assholes who treat me like shit 'n takin' bull all day from people who look at me like I was born to spit shine their shoes. You just don't get it." Darry sighs, rubs a hand over his eyes.

"Pony, c'mere." This has become their routine. Back 'n forth, stern, sarcastic, angry, tired. Pony seethes but allows Darry to push him to drop down into one of their kitchen chairs. "I wouldn't understand, kid? I've been bustin' my back since you were twelve on the roofs of people who think greasers were born to bag their groceries 'n clean their floors. If anyone gets it, Pone, I do."

Some of the tension drops out of Pony's shoulders 'n he worries at his lip.

"You think Soda likes havin' to work on the cars or people who treated him like a failure 'n a dead-end dropout when he quit school?" Pony winces but Darry is damn tired of havin' to chase the kid around his own self-righteousness so he drives the lesson home with, "Do you think Dad liked patchin' up shingles from dawn til dusk? Or ma washin' the clothes of the women she used to meet after school who married up 'n moved west 'n forgot all it took was a bit of bad luck to end up right back on the East side? Sometimes the world ain't fair, Pone. Don't mean you get to lose your temper every time someone gets your goat."

The angers dropped right out of Pony 'n Darry sighs, pulls his chair so the kid can lean against his chest. He does without hesitation.

"I'm sorry, Dar. Sometimes... I dunno. It ain't fair. You're ten times the person those assholes in their fancy houses will ever be. Soda don't deserve to be treated like he's stupid. I just... I dunno. How do you deal with it?" Pony pulls his head back, blinks up at him with those green eyes that look like the sea after a storm's rolled through.

"Y'know... back when I first started workin' with Dad, a thousand years ago," Pony snorts, "I was mad about that all the time. God, I couldn't stand the way they looked at him. The way they talked about us. I didn't know how the hell he did it." Darry strokes his hand absent-mindedly through Pony's hair 'n he presses closer to him.

"It was just too much for me one day. We were behind schedule 'n behind on men 'n the guy who had hired us was hollerin' his head off 'n I turned right around 'n socked him right in his nose." Pony sits back suddenly, eyes round in surprise.

"You?" Darry chuckles, brushes Pony's bangs off his face.

"Yeah, kid, I don't know why you're so shocked. We've had enough fights to last a lifetime." Pony rolls his eyes, shifts around in his chair.

"I guess, I dunno. You always have it so locked down."

"Yeah, well, I do now. But it took a lot of time. Glory, maybe you were too young to remember properly but I swear sometimes I turn around 'n it's like dealin' with a younger me." Darry snorts at a memory 'n Pony raises an eyebrow. "I remember one time ma had gotten so sick of me 'n she told me she hoped one day I had a kid just like how I was to give me the same grief. Glory, I think she'd be laughin' now."

Pony's smile is a little wet but it's there 'n Darry won't mention it as long as Pony doesn't point out Darry wipin' at his eyes with the back of his sleeves. "What did Dad do? When you punched that guy?"

"Well, he was plenty mad. He sat me down 'n I told him it was unfair that we had to take whatever kinda treatment they decided to give us. 'N he grabbed me by the shoulders 'n looked at me like he always did when he was real serious 'n he said Darrel you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."

Pony's face twists up in confusion 'n Darry laughs. God, he could look straight back through the years 'n picture himself starin' up at their dad the same way. "What does that have to do with anythin'?"

"I'll tell ya, kid. He dragged me back in the next day 'n made me apologize 'n then he shook the man's hand 'n left him with this sticky sweet smile 'n promise that he was real sorry for me 'n my behavior. Then he hauled me up a ladder 'n showed me how he would repair the man's roof so it would hold for another six months. Exactly. 'N when we left he shook hands 'n left him his card with the offer to come back if anythin' else ever went wrong. 'N you know what? The man was so impressed with his attitude 'n his work when that roof went up again in six months he called dad right back."

Darry chuckles 'n refocuses on Pony whose jaw is damn near on the floor. "That true?"

"Now, don't go makin' a liar out of me. Every word."

"Shit. You know? That sounds just like Dad."

"And he was right. Look, it sucks kid. It does. People are never gonna look at you like they should. There are always gonna be assholes who think they're better than you. You keep your damn head up 'n it doesn't matter at all. You fix the roof. 'N if it leaks you make sure you make yourself a lastin' impression."

Pony bites his lip, plays with the bottom of his shirt. It takes another minute but he nods, shoots Darry a lil' grin. "You know, I'm sure I left an impression."

"Yeah, like the type of impression I'm about to leave on your ass, kid." Pony yowls indignantly 'n dives off his chair to get away from Darry's snatch. Darry doesn't go for him again, settlin' for rollin' his eyes 'n not meanin' it at all.

"Hey, Dar?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"I'm gonna go back to the store tomorrow 'n ask for my job back. D'you mind... vouchin' for me?" Darry studies him for a moment. Pony's heart always was too big. The unfairness would always hurt. But the kid would figure out how to muddle by. Darry had.

"Sure, Pone. Just this time? Don't go ruinin' my reputation by callin' no one a bitch." Pony grins 'n opens his mouth. Darry cuts him off with a pointed finger 'n a raised brow. "Even if they deserve it real bad."

[seventeenpins]

triptych - pt ii

pairing: tommy miller x joel miller x f!reader

word count: 3.3k

summary: after a shitty day, the man you've been chatting with all evening brings you back to his place only for you to discover he lives with his brother, an old flame of yours. they both fuck you. pre-outbreak. 18+

warnings: ooof i know i'm gonna miss something but here goes! multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pussy eating, dick sucking, ass eating/ass play, anal, joel miller is an ass man, double penetration, it's literally just porn there is so little substance here it's shameful, probably not incest but maybe a little??? like the brothers aren't into each other but their balls kinda touch so i'll leave that just in case..., light spanking, creampie, light breeding?, pls tell me if i'm missing anything important

a/n: wowowow i cannot believe how fuckin lovely y'all are, i hadn't been writing for years but i certainly never received so much feedback. thanks for reading and interacting and being part of such a cool and deeply horny community 😅 my asks are always open and i'd love to take on some requests! thank u to those who've sent some so far, i'm working on them now. besides requests, upcoming fics include a follow-up to bad girl and a vampire au 💕

also, thank you for indulging in this pairing!! (grouping?) i feel like a lot of threesome fics are very pro-joel with tommy cucking, and though they're fucking excellent, i wanted to give tommy some love and an equal place at the side of his incredibly hot brother.

check out part i

when you'd first sat down at that grimy dive bar, never in a million years would you have anticipated the scene that was unfolding in front of you now.

“shit," tommy says, "she looks so nice down on her knees for us, huh joel?”

joel looks feral as he stares you down. "such a good girl for us,” he agrees, “but we gotta see if that mouth can do more than talk.”

he's holding your wrists behind your back, while tommy grips a firm hand through your hair and unbuckles his belt with the other.

"open up, baby," tommy says, and presses one finger into your mouth and then another. he gently strokes his fingers in and out of your mouth, pressing into your tongue, slowly going deeper and deeper till you're sure you can feel the digits at the back of your throat. you can feel that you've started to drool a little, and tommy lets out a little groan at the discovery.

"you think you're ready for me?" tommy asks, and you nod.

in one smooth motion, his cock is springing from his boxers and the head is pressing gently at your lips.

feeling just the tip in your mouth, you already know your jaw is gonna hurt tomorrow. you relax your jaw and open wider, and tommy makes a slightly strangled noise that you take as a great sign.

as he fucks into your mouth, your eyes begin to water and tommy notices, brushing the tears away.

"you're takin' it so good," joel lavishes his praise on you and you never want it to end, "such a good girl, aren't you? keep that throat nice and open for my brother, won't ya? i know you wanna relax into it, baby, let him see just how much you love havin his dick down your throat."

it makes you moan, his words making you almost uncomfortably wet. tommy keeps thrusting down your throat, hips occasionally stuttering.

"shit, honey-" tommy says, and chuckles at your whine when he pulls his cock out of your mouth, "you're suckin' it so good, i need a break or i'm gonna come in that pretty mouth a whole lot sooner than i mean to."

joel drops your wrists and backs up to the sofa.

"why don'tcha sit on my lap, darlin'?" he grins, and pats on his inner thigh, his cock visibly straining in his jeans, a little damp patch visible where you're sure the tip is.

"only if you take your pants off," you say, and joel's eyebrows shoot up.

joel considers. "fine, but we're gonna work you up real nice before you get to sit on anyone's cock.

once you're sat on joel's lap, his cock straining against his boxers, tommy’s kissing you with such frenzied passion you feel dizzy. the sensation is only heightened when joel runs a knuckle down your spine, dragging over each vertebrae, massaging and tantalising. then both hands are grabbing at your waist and over your hips as if mapping you out. it’s not overtly hungry, not yet, but there’s a sensuality to it you didn’t quite remember from your brief and ill-fated encounters with joel years back. you're suddenly hit with a pang of sadness that you never stayed in touch. you would've liked to see him get his first grey hairs. instead it feels like you hit fast forward and jolted ahead.

joel's close behind you and you feel his hot breath on your neck as he pulls down the neckline of your top and licks a line along the hollow of your collarbone and back up to your ear, and the drag of his tongue is delicious. he nibbles on your earlobe and the sensation draws an obscene moan from your lips. 

tommy’s close to you, too, his big hands cupping your jaw as he kisses his tongue deep into your mouth, running it along your teeth. his cock is still hanging out from his jeans, thick and hard, and you don't try to disguise the way you stare at it as you look him up and down.

"you've got far too many clothes on, sweetheart," tommy grins, and you pull off your top. before you can unhook your bra, joel's already unfastened it and is helping you pull it off.

tommy drops to his knees now, licking and sucking at your nipples, as joel unbuttons your pants, unzips them, and helps you lift your hips to yank them off of you.

the graze of tommy's teeth against the sensitive flesh of your breast makes you whimper and rut up on joel's thigh, and the brothers both laugh at your desperate noises.

"shit, she's needy, ain't she?" joel teases as he grips your waist with one hand and lets the other drag down to your panties, holding you in place while he starts to rub his fingers along your slit through the damp fabric.

he tugs at the band of your lace panties and ponders for a moment. "you partial to these?" he asks, and you shrug, "not particularly".

"good," joel says. that's all he needs to hear before he's tearing them apart and dropping the tattered fabric aside.

"well now you're just putting on a show," you tease, and he laughs but doesn't disagree. he just strokes a finger along your folds.

"i think you're a girl who likes a show," he tells you as he gathers up a little bit of your slick and slides it along your pussy. "now, what else do you like, darlin'? you want me to play with your lil clit? or just finger fuck you?"

"both," you whine, "any of it. all of it, please-"

he teases a finger into you very gently, just a little press that goes a little deeper each time he pulls it out and presses back in, till you realise he's sinking it in all the way to the hand with each thrust.

right as he adds another finger, to your surprise, tommy drops to his knees. he spreads your thighs wider and looks up for a moment, and you think you can feel joel nod behind you. that's all it takes, and tommy dives in. joel thrusts his fingers into you more urgently as laves kisses on and around your clit. he deepens it, pressing harder, flicking his tongue furiously along your swollen nerve endings and there's enough sensation that you know you won't last long.

"yes, that's it," you cry, and now it's your turn to grab tommy by the hair and press his face right where you need it the most. you're grinding up on his tongue while joel steadily continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, and you know you couldn't be quiet even if you tried.

"fuck," your words sound more like sobs now and you really don't give a shit, "keep going, just like that, joel you can go harder, tommy yes, lick my clit like that, i'm gonna- i'm gonna come-"

"good girl," joel talks you through it, "letting us take care of you like this. you need us to fuck you stupid, don'tcha? you're gonna leave here in the mornin' all stretched open, feeling us deep inside ya for days, huh?"

his filthy words are all you need to teeter over the edge- "fuuuck!" you scream, and you're positively panting now, verging on hysterical. you know joel can feel your pussy clench around him, you're so wet you're worried you've ruined joel's jeans, and you're so overstimulated that you can't speak more than a syllable or two at a time.

"oh you come so pretty," tommy says, pulling away from you to speak. you can see the way his lips are glistening with your slick before he kisses you on your inner thighs, peppering the soft skin with attention.

then, your eyes practically roll back in your head as he dives back in.

joel hasn't stopped fingering you, either, and once tommy's mouth is back on you, joel presses his fingers back into you more deeply again.

"shit, it's too much, i don't think i can take another this quick-" you try to say, but joel shushes you.

"i can already feel it coming," joel tells you, "can feel how your thighs are trembling, how you're already clenching down on me."

you're treading dangerously close to uncomfortably overstimulated, but you're also so completely turned on, you barely care. if you're gonna die in pursuit of a nut, so be it.

"fuck, you're right-" you tell joel, and tommy moans into you letting delicious vibrations pulse through you, and that sends you over the edge again.

you thrust and writhe and rut against them both, and tommy shows you mercy this time, drawing back and letting you get a little relief from the overwhelm of sensation instead of keeping his mouth on you.

you need a moment to catch your breath, and both joel and tommy rub soothing circles into your skin, joel's hands on your hips and tommy's on your thighs, and it feels exquisite.

"that's it, sweetheart, that's it-" joel soothes, and though your breathing's evened out, you know your thighs are still shaking.

tommy's licking up the arousal from between your thighs as if cleaning you off, and he looks up at you with almost dopey, half-lidded eyes, grinning.

"you taste like heaven, honey," he says, and he looks almost as fucked out as you feel. all this from eating pussy, you wonder, and that's another point in the favor of tommy miller being a man who likes to take care of fine things.

"i think i'm gettin' jealous now," joel teases, "i might need a taste, too."

without another word, tommy kisses you deeply and you taste yourself on his tongue. joel tilts your head back to meet him, and he kisses the taste from your mouth, groaning as he does it.

the sounds they're both making are so fucking hot, you love how they emote. there's nothing as unsexy as getting fucked by someone who stays absolutely silent throughout, and hearing them as pathetic as you feel works you up even more.

"what do you need, sweetheart," joel asks, and he's running a finger along your swollen folds now, teasing and torturous.

"you want us to fuck your pussy and your mouth," he asks, and moves to stroke a finger along your cheek, "you wanna have a big cock on either end of ya?"

you shake your head and joel raises his eyebrows.

"tell us what you want, baby," tommy says, and joel drags his fingers back along your pussy before tentatively using his forefinger to circle your asshole.

"please, joel-" you realise you're begging and it draws a laugh from tommy.

"you're a naughty girl, aren't you?" tommy asks, and the way he's grinning tells you that he wouldn't want it any other way.

"wanna feel full of you, both of you-" you whine.

"you gotta tell us, else we won't know what you want," joel says. from his tone of voice, it's clear he knows exactly what you want, but you need to beg for it.

"my pussy. and my ass. wanna ride both of you, feel both of you, get fucked by both of you-"

"jesus christ," tommy moans, "i bet we can make that happen, huh, big brother?"

you turn around to look at joel and his pupils are so blown, his eyes look black.

"bedroom." joel says, and it isn't a request.

tommy scoops you up in his arms and follows joel to his bedroom.

"drop her right here," joel says to tommy, and you're deposited on the edge of the bed, joel kneeling on the floor in front of you.

"looks so pretty for us," tommy says, and he sits down in an armchair near the foot of the bed and starts stroking his aching cock.

you'd been so fucked out already, you almost forgot you'd done almost nothing to take care of them. tommy's cock looks almost red and angry, and joel's is still tucked into his boxers, but the damp spot is spreading and it looks so thick through the fabric.

"let's get you ready for us, sweetheart," joel says, and without any more warning, he hooks his hands under your knees and pulls you up, legs spread, knees hanging over his shoulders. "i'm gonna eat this cute lil asshole, baby," he says and spits on your tight hole before rubbing his thumb gently against it, spreading the saliva.

he teases you with his tongue a little, testing it before pressing it flat and licking along it. you moan, and he growls against you.

you learn very quickly that joel miller is an ass man.

he eats ass like he was made for it, growling into you, spit dripping down his chest as he keeps your legs propped up on his shoulders, your thighs held in place with one arm. you're gasping through your moans and joel is drawing circles around your hole now, popping a finger into his mouth, and tentatively pressing it into the tight ring of muscle. it's fucking animalistic and you don't think anything could possibly make this better, until you notice the moans coming from tommy and the wet sounds of him furiously fisting his cock.

you're already fucked out from your first orgasms that you're practically boneless and limp, totally relaxed in a way you didn't often get. it made the feeling of joel fucking his fingers into you more glorious, building you up in a way you're not used to.

he makes quick (but thorough) work of opening you up, till he's got three fingers in your asshole and tommy's telling you how beautiful you look through his own choked moans, and you think you might lose your mind as you pant and grind and whine and joel isn't saying anything because his mouth is far too busy.

he pulls back and takes a good look at you. with someone else you might feel uncomfortably exposed but instead, you see hunger and desire in the brothers' and you know this is affecting them at least as much as it is you.

"i think we've got ya ready," joel hums, and he turns to look at his brother, "wanna check?" he asks, and tommy stands up and walks over.

you know you feel loose and ready, but the simple act of tommy popping a finger into your mouth to get it wet and then tracing it around your asshole, examining the preparation, drives you insane.

"i think she'll take it good for us," he grins and your heart flutters, "good girl," he says to you.

"you ready for us?" joel asks, and you nod.

"fuck me," you tell them.

joel lowers you down from his shoulders and tommy lays down on the bed before beckoning you.

"giddy up, cowgirl," he says with a wink, and you roll your eyes but take your cue.

you crawl up the bed, straddling his legs and then hovering over his cock which he's holding aloft.

"you good, baby?" he asks softly, and it's incredibly sweet in a way that makes you want to eat him up alive and also get fucked within an inch of your life by him.

"fuckin great," you tell him, and you pull him into a deep kiss before relaxing yourself over his cock, letting the head press into your pussy and sinking down onto it.

"jesus christ," he chokes out, and he sounds so desperate you can't help but fucking down on him, your ass slapping as you, move, his cock pressing so fucking deep into you and then you feel joel approach you from behind his hands gently running over your asscheeks and you know he's feeling the way your flesh bounces as you get off on his brother's cock. then, his hands are off of you, you hear the squirt of a lube bottle, and suddenly joel's thick lubed tip is pressing against you.

you try to thrust backwards towards it, but almost pull off tommy's cock fully, and it's like you're trying to ride both ends of a dick seesaw.

joel notices your frustration, laughing as you writhe.

"patience," he says, and delivers a sharp smack to your ass that thrusts you deeper onto tommy's cock. then, you can feel joel pressing into you, inch by inch.

once his cock head is fully sheathed in your tight ass, you take a moment to breathe before you start to find a rhythm that'll get all of you off at the same time. it takes a moment, and a few adjustments by all three of you, but before you know it, you can feel tommy brushing against your cervix and joel fully fucking into your asshole, practically rearranging your guts. with each rough thrust, they're fucking into you as one.

you're all moaning, gasping for breath. the slapping of skin against skin is delicious, and you're certain joel's balls are smacking against tommy's and you're not sure if it's weird or the hottest thing you've ever experienced.

you feel so full, you feel so fucking full it's perfect, it's delicious, you wanna be split open like this for the rest of time, want to feel two fat cocks using your holes for their pleasure, for your pleasure, because it all just feels so fucking good.

"fuck," tommy says, and it's the first thing any of you have been able to vocalise for a minute, "i'm gonna-"

"come in me," you tell him, cutting him off and he shudders.

that's all he needed before it hits him and he lets out a deep groan and unloads deep into you. it sets off a chain reaction. you come next, clenching around tommy's cock and exploding with a sob, your entire body shaking uncontrollably, and that tips joel over the edge, too as you whine at him, "come in my ass, joel-" and then he makes a strangled noise and you feel his balls tighten and hips stutter and he's unloading in you, pulse after pulse of thick come.

you lay there, tommy beneath you and joel on top of you, their cocks still twitching inside of you. gently, you tap joel's hip and he grunts and rolls over, pulling out of you. you gingerly pull yourself off of tommy, and then immediately collapse between the two of them.

"well, shit," you say, so totally blissed out you're floating on a whole other level.

"jesus christ," tommy says, and then joel starts laughing and it's the best thing you've ever heard.

"you doin' alright, darlin?" joel asks, "we take good care o' ya?"

you nod, consumed with so much euphoria you can't use your words properly.

"good- good joel," you say, "good tommy," you pat them each on the thighs and joel snorts.

tommy pops off the bed for a moment and rummages around in the other room before coming back to ask, "need a hit?"

you nod and he places the joint between your lips and sparks it. you take a deep inhale and slow blink as you sit yourself up and look at both of them.

"let's clean ya up, darlin," joel says, and, as it turns out, tommy brought a washcloth as well as weed. and he had my priorities straight you think.

"if you want me out of your house," you tell them, "you'd better tell me now so i can call a cab. otherwise, i'm gonna pass out here in the next twelve seconds."

"i won't be here in the morning", joel tells you, "got an early shift, but as i recall, tommy's specialty is box pancakes and they sometimes turn out edible."

tommy playfully slaps at his brother, and then kisses your cheek. joel kisses your cheek, too. tommy cleans you up a little, and you fall contentedly asleep between these two beautiful men.

the last thing you think before you drift off is fuck that promotion, it's not such a bad day after all.

[nyx-knacks-writes]

Be More Careful, Okay?

Based off of @princeloww's idea of Alec and Campbell being uncle and nephew. I think Alec is a tad out of character here, but I saw this prompt by @prompt-dealer and had an image of Campbell being chased by an angry Alec, and I couldn't resist. No spoilers for either Broadchurch or Takin' Over the Asylum, and none for princeloww's The Never-Ending Sky, either. This is just my little idea of something that could occur if Campbell were to end up in Alec's care. I take zero credit for the idea of Campbell and Alec living together and zero credit for the prompt.

“I’m too young to die!”

“Young ain’t got nothin’ to do with it!”

Alec chased Campbell around the house, literally around the outside of the house, yelling obscenities and threatening—well, Campbell didn’t exactly know what he was threatening, but chances were high that it wasn’t good. Nature of a threat, after all.

Truth be told, Alec also didn’t know what he was threatening. He’d figure that out later. However, he did know that Campbell was in deep trouble. Trouble so deep that he wasn’t exactly sure how to punish the boy. Especially given that Campbell wasn’t even his son. So round and round they went, both yelling and trying not to slip on wet grass that would surely yank their feet out from under them at the first opportunity, causing an impromptu meeting with the cold, wet, muddy ground. 

The first offense had been the shirts. Campbell had had good intentions, really. He’d come home early from school on Monday, seen that the bathroom laundry hamper was full, and decided he’d do a load of washing to help his uncle. What a lovely nephew he was, right? Right? Wrong. Despite his best efforts to sort the colored clothing from the whites and the darks, he’d missed a pair of socks. A pair of red socks. A pair of brand-new red socks the exact color of a freshly washed fire engine gleaming in the summer sun. The shirts had come out pink. Oops. When Alec finally got to see the result of his nephew’s good intentions, he’d simply sighed and shaken his head. No sense in getting mad. He could probably do with some new shirts anyway. He’d donate the pink ones to a charity shop in town. Yeah, yeah, “real men wear pink” and all that, but what was he supposed to do? Like it or not, pink was still very much thought of as a feminine color. He could only imagine the abuse he’d suffer at the hands of his coworkers if he came in wearing a pink shirt. Big, bad DI Hardy in pink? Unthinkable. So he’d donated the old shirts, added a shopping trip to his weekend plans, and obtained the new white shirts that he preferred. A little hit to the wallet, but ultimately, no lasting harm done.

The second offense had been the soup. After the Sandbrook case had finally been solved and closed, Miller had insisted Alec start taking better care of himself and get a hobby. So what did he choose but learning to cook, which would satisfy both her demands? Ever the efficient one, wasn’t he? However, some dishes required a couple of extra hands for the sake of timing, so he would recruit Daisy and/or Campbell, depending on the day and on who was around, to help him out in the kitchen. On Tuesday, he’d needed both of them. It was going to be pumpkin soup for dinner that night, since it had been so cold and rainy, and Alec had asked Campbell to add the cream, nutmeg, salt, and pepper to the pot while he began pureeing vegetables a few cups at a time and Daisy helped him to avoid overloading the food processor. Four teaspoons of nutmeg would do it. However, when Alec caught sight of the little container of nutmeg on the counter after putting the soup back onto the stove to simmer, there was no teaspoon in sight. Instead, there was a tablespoon with a suspicious coating of brown powder sitting only an inch or so away.

“Campbell,” he’d asked slowly, “how much nutmeg did ye put in the soup?”

“Four tablespoons,” Campbell answered, looking up from the knife he was washing. “Why?”

Alec cursed, cut the gas, and put the soup pot on the stove’s back burner.

“Nutmeg is poisonous in high quantities,” he said. “The recipe called for four teaspoons, not tablespoons. If we eat that, we’ll end up in hospital.” He sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair, debating on chastising Campbell versus just letting it go. ‘Try to read it a bit more carefully next time, aye?” he eventually said as Campbell made a point to look anywhere else but at his uncle’s eyes. “Anyone have suggestions for dinner tonight? Looks like we’ll be doing takeaway.”

The next day, Campbell really did wind up in the hospital. Not for ignoring his uncle’s warning about the soup, but instead for a skateboard accident. It had been something of an impulse buy on Campbell’s part, and while he was getting to be rather good when it was dry, he’d not yet practiced when it was wet. He’d missed the bus to school in the morning, pondered what to do, and instead of calling a friend or his uncle or even Ellie Miller, he’d decided that the best possible way to rectify this problem was to attempt to skateboard to school and ask to leave the board in the office until the end of the day. He’d load up his backpack, throw on a rain jacket, hop on the board, and sail off into the morning light, perfectly balanced and confident that as long as he was careful, nothing would go wrong. 

What actually happened was that he rolled out with all his things, made it about halfway to the building, hydroplaned on a small hill, and ate dirt. Great. One ambulance ride, a thorough wound-washing, a chunk of chin and six stitches later, he was sitting in a hospital bed as Alec chewed him out for being irresponsible and not just calling for help or walking to school instead of getting on a set of wheels that had not been properly tested for mildly inclement weather. Not that he could be too hard on the boy. His intentions (get to school without inconveniencing anyone) had been good, and the fall, given its consequences, had really been punishment enough for poor Campbell. He looked like he’d expected a bowl of cherries and gotten a cherry bomb instead: a little confused and a lot regretful. Like he was contemplating the choices in his life that had brought him to this moment. 

Thursday had been blessedly normal. No blood, no pink shirts, no ruined meals. Normal ride to school, normal day, normal ride home. He didn’t even have homework for once in his school career! Maybe he was in the clear! Maybe his little bad-luck streak was over!

And then on Friday he inadvertently dyed his uncle’s hair a bright teal. What he wanted to do was put a teal streak in his own hair. It had been something he’d been thinking about for a while, and after having such a rough week, he figured that it wouldn’t hurt to try. He’d spent the afternoon in and out of the bathroom, making sure he was doing it right and not dying the whole house at the same time, and it had come out beautifully! Not a drop anywhere but in his hair, nice clean stripe, absolutely gorgeous. His one mistake? Leaving the bottle in the shower. When he’d gone to rinse out the excess dye, he’d taken the bottle into the shower with him to check the instructions for how to properly care for the freshly dyed hair. When he was all set, he’d left it there. And what did his poor, unsuspecting uncle do when he went to wash his hair later that night? He grabbed the dye bottle instead of the shampoo. And what did he see when his hair finally dried? Bright teal. Everywhere. All over his head. No missing it. Thus leading to the lovely game of ring-around-the-house. It was a little childish, yeah, but Campbell hadn’t been sure what his uncle was going to do with him when the newly teal-headed man had stormed into the living room with murder in his eyes. The options had been limited, so Campbell chose to run. 

Uncle and nephew made the oval at least four times over, pushing Alec’s pacemaker to the limit, before Alec finally stopped seeing red and had the bright idea to simply wait for Campbell to come back around again. He snagged at his nephew’s hood when the opportunity presented itself and pulled the boy against his chest. 

“Campbell, I . . . why?” Alec asked helplessly, wind going out of his sails. “I know ye’ve had a tough time adjusting here, but why?”

“I didnae mean to!” Campbell squawked. “I left the dye in the shower by accident, I swear!”

“I know ye didnae mean to, I’m asking ye why ye haven’t been more careful! Two out of the last five days ye’ve injured or nearly killed yerself, an’ I just want to know why!”

Alec stopped for a moment, released a breath, and let it go. 

“Look, I know ye’re not happy to be here. I know nothing’s the same and ye’re not even with yer mum and da anymore. I’m worried about ye. Please, just . . . I need ye to be more careful. That’s all. That’s why I’m upset. Now please, let’s stop these Looney Tunes shenanigans an’ go back inside. It’s too cold an’ wet to be out at this time of night.”

Campbell stopped to consider that for a moment, and Alec realized what he’d said. However, the apology wasn’t halfway out of his mouth before Campbell cracked a grin.

“But I am a looney.” 

“Campbell—”

“How can ye expect me no’ to engage in Looney Tunes shenanigans when I am, in fact, a looney?”

“Campbell—”

“In fact, you ought to be thankful that I don’t engage in more Looney Tunes shenanigans just to spite ye! In fact—!”

“Campbell!”

The boy in question stopped talking, but his grin didn’t fade even a little.

“Yes?”

“Inside. Please.”

And so, the pair trooped to the door in silence, neither sure what to say to the other until Campbell paused with his hand on the doorknob.

“I’ll be more careful,” he promised. “I didnae mean to worry ye, really. I’ve just had an unlucky couple of days. I’m fine.”

“Really fine?”

“Aye, really fine.”

“And ye know ye can ask fer help any time?”

“Aye.”

“And—”

“Yes, yes, come on, let’s go inside! I haven’t eaten since lunch, an’ dinner won’t cook itself. What are we makin’ tonight?”

[a-punchline-on-duct-tape]

💋 Tim Shepard please🙏

tim shepard. - please!

includes: nsfw content.

for the most part, tim's far too tough to celebrate valentine's day.

however, if you really enjoyed celebrating, i could see him being a little nicer.

maybe he'd take you out somewhere, or he'd buy steal something small for you.

probably a bracelet or necklace you've been eyeing for a while.

after the day's over, the part he’s been looking forward to most arrives.

he managed to get both curly and angela out the house for the night.

curly goes to the drive-in with ponyboy and johnny while angela went out with one of her boy-toys.

you both sit on the couch, making out with hands drawn to one another like magnets.

eventually, he gets so sick of your teasing, and he needs to fuck you.

takes you to his room before he rips your clothes off, leaving you in just your panties, as he holds you in his lap.

he might rub over your panties or he slips his fingers and rubs your clit underneath.

or his rough, calloused fingers rub all across your soft skin as he holds you.

i feel like he’s into making you beg.

the idea alone of you begging him to touch you gets him hard.

“tim, please… i need you…”

“come on, baby… m’sure you can do better than that…”

he’ll give in soon, however.

seeing your eyes well up, tears threatening to spill any second as you plead with him to fuck you.

“alright, baby. since you need me so bad…”

he’d make you unbuckle his belt for him while he takes his shirt off.

either make you beg for him to take your panties off, or he’d just slip them to the side.

he wouldn’t want to hurt you, so he’d finger you for a bit before he’d actually fuck you.

“so wet already…”

“so pretty takin’ my fingers, huh?”

he’d either leave hickey’s on your neck, the smell of your perfume/cologne driving him insane.

or, he’d leave kisses on your lips while he mutters sweet-nothing’s to you.

once he decides your actually ready, he starts off real gentle.

as he slips it in, he’d hear your quiet moans.

“i know, baby, i know.”

starts off with slower, weaker thrusts, as you adjust to his size.

he quickly gets rough, however.

he loves the feeling of your nails scratching his back as you moan his name.

he wouldn’t be a really loud moaner, a quiet groan or ‘fuck.’ every now and then is probably the most you’ll hear out of him.

he’d rub your clit while he fucks your brains out for sure.

either that or he’d gently grope your boobs while he thrusts into you really fast.

likes it when you rest your head in the crook of his neck, too weak from pleasure to sit up straight.

he’s in the middle of praising and degrading.

“my pretty little slut…”

“taking me so good…”

probably makes you suck his fingers.

it gets him really hard

his favourite poses are cowgirl and doggystyle.

once you finish, he’d get you a drink of water and clean you off, but he mostly talks in the morning.

he’d cuddle with you until you both fall asleep, while he whispers sweet-nothings in your ear.

[anothermansjeans]

Okay so singer reader idea and if you’re not feelin it then that’s okay! But maybe Bye by Ariana Grande. And I imagined it like her and Spencer were together but have been broken up for a couple months and reader comes out w this song and changing the lyrics in the song to “so I grab my stuff, Penny just pulled up in the driveway.” And then they eventually get back together.

THANKS FOR REQUESTING!! ALSO some quick headcanons for this au so it makes more sense: the other 4 songs i mention reader wrote are down bad, the archer, hits different, and stranger and then after this blurb i picture reader wrote feels like !!

cw: hurt/comfort warning :((( spencer self sabotages !!!!! but happy ending :)

wc: 1k

singer!reader masterlist

++

Heartbreak has always been a real motivator for you when it comes to songwriting. You just hoped this motivator died the moment Spencer came into your life… unfortunately, it didn't.

Something serious happened at the BAU three weeks ago, so serious that Spencer went to your place in a panic and told you it was best if you two stopped your relationship now before anything bad happens. The media still weren't a hundred percent sure who he was, the disguises and staying on the down low really helped with that, and he claimed that's a good thing– it’s good that no one (other than close friends and family) really knew about him and his job. He told you he didn't want you in danger.

And some very small rational part of you knew he was doing the best thing his brain told him to, you were just angry and sad about it all. You love Spencer; that’s a no brainer, but you wish he would have given you the chance to make the decision if it's going to impact you. So, because of the heartbreak of him leaving that night and making absolutely no contact with you afterwards, you kind of went on a rampage with your writing.

The first song was written not even three days after it happened. Penelope pulled up to your place to give you a hug and to let you know that just because Spencer doesn't allow himself to be happy, doesn't mean she will stop being there for you. You love Penelope so much. After the visit though (and a few too many glasses of wine) you kind of threw anything you saw that was Spencer’s into a bag and handed it off to her. You wanted to keep only what was yours, and you didn't want to have to deal with it later; you didn't want to deal with the heartbreak later.

Still a bit buzzed, you decided to start working on some music. Phone recording, and fingers playing the piano, you sang whatever popped in your head.

“So I grab my stuff

Penny just pulled up in the driveway

It's time

Bye-bye

Boy, bye

Bye-bye

It's over, it's over, oh yeah

Bye-bye

I'm takin' what's mine, yeah

Bye-bye

It's over, it's over, oh yeah”

And it was out to stream within the week. You went through a lot of loopholes, long talks with your management, and producers to get it out as soon as possible. When you wrote it, it felt like it was on the tip of your tongue, and that anxious feeling made you loath everything around you. For your own mental health, it was released way before any other song or even mention of a new album. That week that was spent tying up loose ends on your management’s side was a week also full of songwriting, and you were sure you'd have an album by the end of the month.

When the surprise drop happened, people were confused. Supportive, but confused. You normally did a lot of interactions with fans online before or after a release, so your silence was concerning. You proclaimed it was your hermit season, and with that, people (that being friends and family) knew not to bother you. So you could say that when a knock on your door was heard throughout your place, you were hesitant.

You got up and looked through the peephole, sighing when you saw the genius you were still very in love with. It took you a minute to collect yourself– you didn't want to speak to him but all parts of your heart were aching for a moment with Spencer– and you slowly opened the door, seeing the sadness pool in his eyes.

“Uh– h-hi.”

“What are you doing here?” You didn't mean for your words to come out so harsh, and neither did he by the flinch he gave you.

“I wanted to talk to you…” You scoffed and shook your head. This wasn't a good idea. You began to close the door, only to abruptly stop at his voice. “I heard your song.” You stayed still, waiting for him to continue. “And I spoke to Penelope, and everyone on the team and I hate myself for letting you go the way I did and–”

“And what?” You cut him off, practically begging him to give you something to hold on to.

“And I want to try and talk to you about this and do anything I can to try and make this up.”

You softened a bit, and gave a nod, opening your door wider for him to enter. When he did, you motioned at him, “keep going.”

He took a deep breath and gave direct eye contact as he spoke, “I self sabotage, but in addition to that, I’m terrified of anything happening to you.” He waited a moment, clearly collecting his thoughts, “I see what happens to the loved ones of those on my team. I never want that to happen to you.”

“I understand that, but that doesn't give you the right to make the decision to end things without consulting me.”

“And I completely agree and understand.” His words were quick. “I know I’m allowed to be cautious but I should have spoken to you and tried to figure out how you felt on the subject.”

“Exactly.” You stared at each other, and your eyes began to fill with tears. “You are never allowed to do that to me again. Leaving me… safely stranded… I hated it, Spencer, and I love you so much, so you are never allowed to do that again.”

He took that as his in, and tentatively took a step towards you, bringing his hands up to your arms and gently squeezing them. “Never. I love you too, I am so sorry, Y/N.”

You gave a nod and moved closer to him, loosely wrapping your arms around his waist and feeling his arms engulf you. You waited a moment before speaking, “I wrote four other songs about you.” He hummed in agreement, “and they're all going on the next album.”

He gave a soft chuckle, “I completely understand,” and he left a soft kiss on the top of your head. A huge weight was lifted off of you, and you never felt more at home.

++

singer!reader taglist: @itsleilabxtch @wietske27 @taylorswiftilovecowboylikeme @marshatesthisreality @ladylincoln @delightfulmakerpiegiant @chericherrypie @punksnotdeadbutiam @stillhere197 @laddywitch @httpstoyosi @obi-wansgirl @amandareids

let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

[tea-and-secrets]

something ive noticed in my transition - women just do not treat me the same. its weird /: it felt like one day i was the butch everyone hid behind & felt safe with, and the next i was scaring ladies by just like existing

idk it just hits me really fuckin hard every now and again yk? like tn for example. i work at a restaurant, we close at 11pm, i typically take the last bus of the night home. tonight there was this woman (20s? 30s?), real pretty, real white, and obvs new to town. anyway, she got on at the same stop i did, and she got off at the same one i did (i live in company housing, and most all of us have 2nd jobs so its quite routine to see another [redacted] employee on the city bus to/from work #2). now its a mile long walk right on the edge of the creepy ass woods, in the pitch black, to the company apt complex. and i was walking behind her the whole way 😐 she got so freaked out y'all! mace open n ready, keys in the fingers, pretending to be on the phone, etc. and im jus over here takin my sweet ass time walkin so i can star gaze. i felt bad for her feeling scared, so idk i just made noise and turned my flashlight on and tried to let her get as far ahead of me as possible. mostly cuz i was Not about to have her call the fuckin c*ps on me, an entire ass queer brown man, for daring to walk home in the dark behind her. BITCH WE GOT BEARS OUT HERE like if ur so "scared" of me wtf u gon do when u come face to face wit them? die??

sorry that was all over the place im just. so tired!!!! of cis women & white people being "scared" of me because of who i am and what i look like (ive been told i look like an ndn chulo 🤔 sorta danny trejo mixed wit rez kid, but fagged up real good). i miss the "innate" kinship, the "i do not know you but that person is being creepy af so ig we've been besties since grade school" or "hi, ik im walking so close behind u but its cuz ur bleeding. heres a tampon hun" or "were bonding over having a very similar experience within this society" kinda thing yk?

of course, i still have that with [most] other queers it just, hurts ig. to have my "role" flipped so suddenly. i *like* being someone ppl flock to for safety. i *enjoy* protecting others and providing comfort. i *want* randoms to feel comfortable enough with me to ask for help if they need it. idk 😐 hard bein 🫳🏽 and a 2Spirit fagdyke

.

[1427]

When the Levee Breaks (pt. 3)

Daryl Dixon x OFC

The one in which a stripper that used to know Merle and Daryl shows up at the Atlanta camp. Daryl’s feelings are complicated but mostly he hates her. Right?

Chapt. Setting: The CDC, Daryl’s room. 

Chapt. Warnings: degrading and sexist language, season 1 Daryl, sexual themes, descriptions of nudity, (idk, Daryl’s being kind of a jerk and a perv but not nearly enough of one to really need a tag) 

Word count: 3k 

A/N; Daryl’s POV 😩🤷🏼‍♀️, also he’s not a reliable narrator; I think it almost goes without saying that he’s wrong about the OC’s intentions like 90% of the time.

17+ mdni 

“Truth” 

Got no idea why I agreed to play this goddamn game. Or how I let Beatle two feet in the damn door in the first place. 

She’d just barged in, demandin’ I share this dogshit girl-whiskey with her, like the needy fuckin’ bitch she was. Bad enough I shared at dinner and let her sit next to me. Bad enough I been lettin’ her talk at me for the last few days, seemingly non-fuckin’-stop.

 Not like I’m nice about it or nothin’, but I could get physical. Could scoop her up and put her right outside this door right now and lock her the fuck out. But I dont. I ain’t even sure why. Probably cuz the headache she’d holler about it would be even worse than the one she’s already givin’ me.

And for some reason, like always, I cave. And play truth or dare like we’re goddamn little kids. Bitches, right? Always fuckin’ somethin’. 

“Name one thing you genuinely like about me.” Starin’ at me, waitin’ for an answer like she didn’t just ask the most fish for a compliment ass shit I ever heard. Her eyes twinkling in the low light of the bedside table. Sitting on the ground, between two beds. Like goddamn little kids. 

“Nothin’.” I laugh despite tryin’ to keep a straight face. Cuz fuck me, there should be somethin’, right? Somethin’ I can say I like ‘bout her. 

I look over to see her reaction, she’s actin’ annoyed like I owed her the fuckin’ compliment. “That’s not how you play the game, Daryl.” Her voice, maybe I’m gettin’ used to it or somethin’, because right now it just didn’t seem as loud and grating as it usually does. “Plus, it’s bad manners.” 

Talkin’ about bad fuckin’ manners; as she says it she tries to snake her tiny fuckin’ fingers onto my hand to weasel the cigarette I’m smokin’. Like I’m gon’ just let her have it. I pull it back and take a drag and look at her like she’s lost her damn mind. 

She persists, ignorin’ that she’d just tried to take something else from me without askin’, “Answer the question.”

“I did.”

“No, for real.”

“I did.” A smile cracks on my face as I look her dead in the eye.  

And she fuckin’ smiles back at me like I wasn’t being 100 percent fuckin’ honest that I don’t like a goddamn thing about her. Fuckin’ stupid fuckin’ bitch. 

Well… there is one thing. 

“Fine,” I drag the cigarette again letting it sit between my lips while I twist off the cap of the girl-whiskey, tryin’ to distract myself while I throw her a bone. “Ya do, actually, got a nice set a’ tits on ya.” Takin’ a big drink to swallow down my pride. Why do I give in to this shit?

Her face gets all pink and stupid. As if she’s never heard that before. As if she didn’t hear it 20 times a night for years. Nah, she gets all flushed and googly eyed like she’s never heard it before in her whole goddamn life. 

Her hand’s in my fuckin’ face again, to get some of the whiskey this time. I hand her the short of my smoke instead. Which she takes, like she always does. Like she had been finishing almost all of my smokes over the last few days. I take another big drink of my own pride before handin’ her the bottle too. I can’t believe I’m playing this fuckin game, “Truth or dare?” 

“Dare.” Now I have to think of somethin’ to tell this stupid little girl to do? God this was just a game for her to play egomaniac while hoggin’ the booze. The way her tongue touches the glass first, guiding her lips to the brim, reminds me that I don’t want to fuckin’ share. I rip the bottle from her greedy fingers while she’s in the middle of takin’ a sip. 

Let her get a taste. Usually do. Probably why she keeps following me ‘round like a lost puppy. Always pickin’ up my half used trash like she owned it. Like someone who’s not good for nothin’ and not good at nothin’. 

Well, except that one thing Beatle was good for. 

“Dare you to take your tits out.” Lookin at. 

“And just sit here and play this game with my fuckin’ tits out?” Like it’s so unbelievable. 

“Yup.” A big grin breakin’ my face. Just waitin’ ta see if she’ll actually do it. Probably fuckin’ will. 

“But that’s awkward.” She’s whining again, and I roll my eyes, she’s un-fuckin’-believable. 

“I don’t care.” I don’t. 

Beatle sighs, extra loud, and looks down at her top. Like for some reason all of a sudden she’s fuckin’ shy about her tits. As if the bad half of Georgia hasn’t already seen ‘em. She looks back at me like I’m gonna change my mind or somethin’, but I just stare at her. Enjoying the silence. Maybe even enjoying the dumbstruck look on her face, the blush that hasn’t left. Definitely enjoying her pale white skin slowly revealing itself as she pulls the hem of her shirt over her head. 

And then she sits there in her bra like she’s too fuckin’ stupid to remember what I’d dared her to do. “Naw, I said tits out.” 

“But Daryl, I - “

“I don’ care.” I smile into the bottle while I take a sip. Finally makin’ her fuckin’ uncomfortable for once. Quieter than she’s ever been in her whole fuckin’ life. And her eyes get even wider, so I use her own words against her, smiling, “‘That’s not how you play the game’.” 

Beatle grabs the girlwhiskey right out of my hands and takes a swig. Shoving the bottle back before I even react.

And mostly I ignore the fact that my heart is starting to beat in my fuckin’ ears. That my throats getting dry. Yeah, Beatle was good for lookin’ at, but I didn’t like to admit just how much I liked to look at ‘er.  She’s unclasping her bra slowly, too damn slowly and it’s pissing me off cuz it’s not like it’s something new. I already seen ‘em. But she always has to be a tease about every little fuckin’ thing. 

Somethin’ about it is different this time. Maybe cuz its just me and her. And that only happened one other time. That time. 

But her tits out now? Just us here, like little fuckin’ kids. I’unno. I try not to dwell, I’m just enjoying seein’ a nice set of tits, right? Skin so pale I know if I ever touched her, the second I did, it would turn red. Nipples almost the same color as her skin, just barely pinker than the rest of her body. A real cocky laugh leaves my throat before I knows it’s coming. 

“Happy?” She says, staring me down. 

I raise my eyes from her chest to meet her stare, “We done playin’ this stupid game?” 

“No. Truth or dare?” 

Don’t know why I thought maybe that was the end of the game. Kind of forgot we were playin’. She tries to put her arms up to cover her chest but I grip her wrist and tear it away from her body. No fuckin’ chance was she gonna cover herself up now. She owed it. It was her fuckin’ dare and she wanted to play this stupid game, so she’s gonna play by the goddamn rules. 

Her face gets even fuckin’ pinker, and she huffs, forcing her hands to her sides. “Its cold. Truth or dare.” Like I care if she’s cold. It only makes me look down at her chest again. Nipples hard and perfect. Bet that’s why she’d even said it. Bet she’s getting off on the fact that I wanna to see. That she’s making me want it. 

I don’t want it. Not in any way she’d want to have it. “Dare.” 

As soon as I see that sick smile spread across her face I knew she was gonna say something fuckin’ stupid. Shoulda picked truth. “Take your cock out.” 

What the fuck? In between shock, amusement, and anger. Her stupid happy face cracked into the biggest smile I seen on her since the shitty titty. Since she was all moon eyes and dopamine days. “Fuck no.” Obviously not. What the fuck? For what?

“But that’s my dare. It’s the same shit as you telling me to take my tits out.” 

Oh. 

“Naw ‘snot.” Shaking my head I drink more of the girlwhiskey and hand her the bottle again. Sharing absentmindedly, “I’ve seen your tits like a hundred fuckin’ times. You never seen my cock before.” 

“Yeah I have.” 

She’s fuckin’ lying. Doesn’t matter, the way she said cock with her tits hangin’ out. The way we’re talkin’ about it. I start thinkin’ about the dumb face she’d make if I did pull it out right now. Thinkin’ about the expression she’d make if I buried it deep inside her, hard and fast and all at once. Thinkin’ bout it makin’ her cry. Fuck. 

‘m too drunk for this. Thanking Christ that I’m actually drunk enough not to get a hard-on about it. She wants to talk about my dick? Fine.

“Yeah? When’d ya see it?” I smile and look over at her. Bare chest, vulnerable, eyes lookin’ from side to side tryin’ to come up with somethin’ to say so that I’ll take my fuckin’ dick out, “That’s what I thought.” 

“Oh, come on, Daryl, this isn’t fair.” Whining again. Gon’ give her somethin’ to whine ‘bout. Fuck. Stop. 

“Why do you wanna see my cock so bad?” Nah, shouldn’t’ve asked that. Too late. Good, made her shut up for a second again. 

“Cuz I wanna know if it’s really as small as Merle said it was.” 

I laugh back in response. Hard. This little girl was really just sayin’ anything she could. Maybe she wants it. 

Don’t know how it took me so long to see it. Guess I always see it. Lately. Since she showed up again. Followin’ me around. Lingering gazes. Dumb shit. Bet this is how she’d act with anyone. Bet this is how she was with Merle when I wasn’t around. Shoulda remembered how slutty and desperate she got sometimes. Almost like a full-on repeat of the last time I saw her. 

Threw herself at me like some bitch in heat, like I didn’t catch her with Merle the week before. Like I hadn’t… what the fuck ever. Fuck this little girl and her desperate cunt. 

What does she even expect to happen? I pull my dick out? And then what? Dumb little girl doesn’t even know how to seduce a man. Doesn’t make any fuckin’ sense. My head hurts. “Merle didn’t say. that.” 

“Yeah he did. Said you had a micropenis. I never seen one before, show me.” 

Jesus Christ.

”Merle was fuckin’ with you.” 

“Prove it.”

I smile at her sad attempts instead of puttin’ her down like I probably should, “Fine, truth.” Knew I should have just picked truth from the beginning. 

“How big is your dick?” She didn’t even need a second to think about it. Like it was the only thing in her stupid fuck-deprived mind, smile back on her face like it never fuckin’ left. 

“Shut the fuck up, Beatle.” But I’m still smiling, dragging my smoke, lookin’ at her and her tits out of the corner of my eye. She tries to cover herself up again, and I watch my hand move with a mind of its own to pull her arms back down again. My mouth, with a mind of its own decides to tell her, “It’s big.” 

“How would you know? Maybe you should show me.” Jesus Christ, this girl just doesn’t let the fuck up. 

“‘M not takin’ my fuckin’ dick out, quit askin’.” Shoving her, harder than I mean to. She goes down to the floor, almost feel bad. But she ain’t even mad.  

She’s laughin’ so hard I start laughin’ too. I push her to the ground, deny her pathetic advances, and she’s still laughin’. Goofy. “You tell me your dick is big and expect me to ask less?! Stupid.” 

She’s right, was pretty stupid. Don’t even know why I told ‘er. Like somethin’ inside was tryin’ to get out.  These thoughts of her lookin’ up from beneath me, stupid face all mixed up in pain and need. Of her doin’ exactly what I ask her to, for fuckin’ once without talkin’ back or fuckin’ whining. 

“Share” her voice cuts through my thoughts and her hand is in my fuckin face again. But this time her chest is on full display and I don’t know what the fuck comes over me but I actually give it to her. Fuckin’ tits. The one thing that might actually be able to hypnotize me. 

“How big?” I open my eyes to just look at her. Is she serious?

“Thought we were playin’ a game, Beatle.”

“Yeah, I’m trying to. You decided you’re too good for it. Like everything else.”

“Truth ‘r dare?” 

“But it’s your turn!” 

“Naw, you lost your turn. Truth ‘r dare?” 

“Truth.” She says it like she’s so fuckin’ full of herself. Like she tricked me or somethin’. 

I take my cigarette back from her and decide to ask her somethin’ I actually wanna know, “You and Merle ever fuck?” 

“What?!” Like she’s surprised by the question. Like it hasn’t been plaguing me since I walked in on ‘em, clothes half on - her on her hands and knees on the ground while Merle answers the door. Shouldn’t bother me none, who she slept with back then. Probably fucked every guy in the bar the day I met ‘er. And every guy every time since.

“You and Merle. Right? Obviously. Tsch.” The only thing that was holding me back from already believin’ it is that Merle never acted like a guy that sealed the deal. Always fuckin’ blowing smoke up this bitches ass. You don’t do that if you’ve already stuffed it. 

“No.” And she really has the nerve to say it as if she’s disgusted. 

“Yeah fuckin’ right.” 

“I wouldn’t let Merle suck snake venom out of my tit.” I laugh, and she sounds genuine. But I don’t think I believe her. “Did he tell you we did?” She asks. 

“All the fuckin’ time.” I drag my smoke, blowing it out into the air thinkin’ about all the times Merle talked about Beatles sweet pussy. Never believed ‘im at the time, but over the years after she’d disappeared… started to believe it was true. Hell, it woulda made her leavin’ make more sense. 

“Well, Merle was fuckin’ with you.” her voice sounds angry, and her fingers are angry when she rips the cigarette right from my lips. 

I grab at her wrist before she can bring it to her mouth. Movin’ my face down to her hand, and I take the cigarette back into my mouth. Just barely letting my lips touch her fingers as I do. 

She swallows while lookin’ at me, and I feel the tension. Tension I probably woulda got lost in a few minutes ago but now all I can think about is her and Merle. “Saw you in his room once. Half naked on the ground. Don’t fuckin’ lie to me, Beatle.”

I blow the cigarette smoke right in her face. Makin’ me think about her again. Makin’ me remember all that dumb shit that happened before. “Wouldn’t fuck you even if you didn’t fuck my brother.” 

“I didn’t - that wasn’t!” She’s panicked, trying to think of some fuckin’ excuse. Some lie. 

In her desperation I feel two palms flat on my chest and she actually fuckin’ shoves me, “Hey, watch your fuckin’ hands, slut.”

“Watch your fuckin’ mouth!” And there it is, that fuckin’ voice. Any amount of a good time I’d had been havin’, good and gone. But she just keeps goin’. “Never slept with fuckin’ Merle. Never touched his crusty ass with my fuckin’ pinky.” She stands up, “don’t fuck me, like I give a shit. Micropenis little bitch probably couldn’t even get it up.” Maybe, if she’d said it a few minutes earlier I’d have wanted ta prove her wrong. Maybe if she had some fuckin’ tact or grace or fuckin’ anything a woman was supposed ta have she’d have fished her goddamn wish. 

Beatle? Beatle didn’t have two wings to rub together. Beatle didn’t have shit besides an aggressive attitude and a nice rack. 

“Definitely couldn’t get it up for you.” I look down the bottle as I drink more, waiting for her shrill-ass reaction.  

When I don’t hear nothin’ I look over and there’s that fuckin’ look again. Real tears this time. Drunk bitches. Always doing shit like this. 

“Go t’sleep, Beatle, yer drunk.” I’m tryin’ to keep her from cryin’. Last thing I fuckin’ need right now. 

She sits down on the other bed, “can I sleep in here?” 

“Don’ give a shit where ya sleep s’long as it ain’t with me.” 

Beatles face contorts like she’s about to start fuckin’ sobbing, but she stops herself, lowering herself back into the bed. Eyes already closed. “Thanks.” Dumb drunk bitch, fuckin always. 

“Whatever.”  I stand up off the bed and finish my smoke, putting it out on the dresser. Pacing the room realizing how drunk I really am. 

Beatle’s either already asleep or really good at pretending, and she’s pulled the covers up over herself. I walk over to her and pull the sheet down past her breasts before throwing myself in my own bed and passing the fuck out. Beatle was good for lookin’ at. And apparently when I ask her to take off her clothes, she actually listens. 

That’s the thought rolling around in my head when I fall asleep. Why did she listen?

pt 4

A/N; sometime around Sophia there will be more revealed about the instances Daryl keeps referring to. There’s the time he found her in Merle’s room half naked, the time she came onto him, and that other time he won’t talk about (the time she was topless and they were alone). EVENTUALLY all this stuff is out in the open, and talked about. Well. Argued about. But. We’ll get there. :)