#Walker Guest House

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[yestolerancepro]

With a little help from my friends Tolerance Project Extra Celebrates International Day of Persons with Disabilities

Introduction

Hello Today marks the annual International Day of Persons with Disabilities I thought I would celebrate that by writing and posting this one off blog first a little bit of background.

International Day of Persons with Disabilities (December 3) is an international observance promoted by the United Nations since 1992. It has been observed with varying degrees of success around the planet. The observance of the Day aims to promote an understanding of disability issues and mobilize support for the dignity, rights and well-being of persons with disabilities. It also seeks to increase awareness of gains to be derived from the integration of persons with disabilities in every aspect of political, social, economic and cultural life. It was originally called "International Day of Disabled Persons" until 2007. 

Every year since 1992, the UN announces a theme for International Day of People with Disability. The 2023 theme is “United in action to rescue and achieve the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) for, with and by persons with disabilities.”

Obviously, that is a bit of a mouthful. In simpler terms, the theme calls for us all to work together to make the world a better place for people with disabilities — it shouldn’t be up to them alone to constantly fight and advocate for themselves

So in plain English for those that don’t speak UN this years Day for disabled people is all about working together so the title of this blog originally written last year called with a little help from my freinds could not be more apt  

What was the Tolerance Group?

If I have got my sums right 'Tolerance' came into my life round about time I was still at Shelley High School in about 1995 It was created out of one of the summer school play schemes that Kirklees used to run. We had such a good time one year that this particular group wanted to see more of each other to socialise and do other projects.

With the help of one of the play Scheme organisers called Craig Wood he suggested we get Together as a youth group.

We began as a small group of people, calling ourselves the Deighton Group. As the local PHAB group was shutting down, the group got a lot bigger and we changed our name to 'Tolerance'. It was Craig I think who came up with the name we began appearing in local media and were becoming more well known, a local development officer who was called Jeremy Walker organised us into a fully-functioning group. I was asked to be co-ordinator, a job which I did for 7 years. Gemma Blagbrough was my second-in-command and transport secretary. With the help of the local development officer, we applied for funding for a variety of projects. As co-ordinator for the group I found myself doing a lot of the admin work, filling out funding forms, writing newsletters, doing radio and newspaper interviews, and going to various meetings to ask for money to get projects started.

Tolerance The Movie

The idea behind the film was one of Jeremy Walkers many ideas and it was a good one the aim of the film was simple We wanted to make a film that reflected the life of young disabled people in the 21st century. It was important to us as a group that it was funny, and that it would capture the humour within the group. At the same time, we wanted it to deliver a serious message about what it was like to live with a disability day-to-day.

Jeremy can be seen in a cameo in the finished film as Julie’s Taxi driver Julie was played by actress Claire Abbot

The film has five main themes: Employment, Social Life, Transport, Accessibility, and Relationships. We chose these themes because they were important areas of all the lives of the group members.

Also If we were going to make the film we wanted to be involved with it as much as possible provide as much of the cast and crew in the finished film as we could. In the end other members of Tolerance who were not in front of the camera worked in the sound and make up departments  

After a couple of false starts we approached a company called Eclipse Productions run by Richard Hellawell.

The script was written by Richard Hellawell with input from Tolerance members; myself and Jeremy Walker were the film’s producers. In keeping with the humour we wanted the film to portray, we included film spoofs of Officer and a Gentleman, Star Wars, and The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.

One major difference of opinion was who was going to act in our film. Richard wanted people he had worked with previously, where as myself and some of the group members had envisioned that we would use disabled actors. Was our film going to be stopped in its tracks before it had even started?

In the end we managed to reach a compromise and two of our disabled members appeared in the finished film: Gemma Blagbrough as the cinema manager; and Michael Weaver as a blind person using Huddersfield Train Station.

Filming began on 16th August 1999 but the most stressful days shooting was at Huddersfeild Train Station

Shooting scenes at Huddersfield Train Station

From Rob Martin’s photos, the train sequences where shot on 17 August 1999. I remember the day as being very stressful and bursting into tears!

Michael for me gives a very natural performance, and he and Claire Abbot work well together.

On the photo front we have 35 photos of this day’s filming – most of them in black and white. As it was Michael Weaver’s day, when he was playing a starring role, he appears in quite a few of the photos having a laugh with our leading lady, Claire Abbot. There are also some photos, when he was being made up by our make-up lady, Andrea Dowdall Goddard.

Since working on Tolerance, Andrea has worked on episodes of the Doctor Who spin-off, Torchwood, Coronation Street and the film, Guest House Paradiso. Andrea’s credits are on IMDB:  http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1350227/?ref_=nv_sr_1

Gemma Blagbourgh was the second member of Tolerance to appear in the film, Gemma Blagbrough, appears as the cinema manager. All her scenes were shot on the last day of filming I had the day off that day but the rest of the cast and crew had to get up at 5.30am to shoot the cinema scenes. Gemma said about her Tolerance experience afterwards:

‘Yes I really enjoyed the whole experience of working on Tolerance. The only thing I didn’t like were the early mornings; the earliest being half past five in the morning when I had to film my scenes. It was long hours, but I wanted to show people with a disability that you can work and you can work in positions of authority.’

If you have read this blog and like it please consider giving a donation to our gofundme page by clicking on the above link

Photos

Me with my producers hat on with the Tolerance film director Richard Hellawell sorry I look so miserable

Claire abbot with Michael Weever

Gemma Blagbourgh helping Michael learn his lines

Michael having his make up done

Gemma Blagbourgh as appears in the Tolerance film as the UCI cinema manager

Paul Lockwood doing his job as a sound man on the Tolerance film the picture also features Actors David Smith and Claire Abbot

More of the Tolerance production Team at Huddersfield Train station along with Director of Photography Ian Medley this photo features Liam Centeno who was given the nickname the party animal by the production team and Jonathan Lyndley

Notes Thanks to the following people for the pictures Rob Martin and Helen Batty thanks to Gemma Blagbourgh for the interview this new blog was put together using material from the the following blogs Gizza Job I can do that part 2 Tolerance Ability not in Ability a producers commentary Part 1 In the Beginning Tolerance Ability not in Ability a producers commentary Part 2 Transport and Tolerance Ability not in Ability a producers commentary Part 4 Accessibility

Thank you also to wikpedia for information on the history of the International Day of Persons with Disabilities

I would like to thank 2 members of Tolerance that are not mentioned in the blog and don’t feature in the photographs Claire Louise Wallice and Sandra Brennan whose contribution to the Tolerance film was just as valuable as everyone else’s

[bluerosefox]

Tim in Infinite Realms (Feeling like Alice tbh)

'Note to self' Tim thought as he stared up at the different shades of greens and black shifting sky above him as he ignored the aching his body was in from the rough landing he had to take 'Make sure to give Bart and Kon the slowest and mind-numbing missions for like a week once I get back.'

Tim often forgot his parents used to be accomplished archeologists before they died. (He really didnt, he just really didn't like acknowledging the fact they'd rather dig up buried things from ages ago over being in the same country as him for most of his life)

It wasn't until, as he and his old team ("Yeah! Young Just US together again. Time for a new insane adventure! Hey remember that one time with-" "Shh!!" "Ooohhh right... Forgot. What happens in YJ stays in YJ...") were assigned a new mission that he was reminded of this fact.

The mission was to locate a forgotten relic that apparently could open 'doorways' into different Realms, and one of them was a Realm of powerful undead that if controlled would be unstoppable. They were meant to find it before "insert 'creative name' cult of the week here please" Who planned on subjecting the world to its power.

Now knowing about the relic and finding it was two wholly different things. Tim and the others managed to uncover just enough about the artifact that Tim had manged to narrow down the last city it had been last recorded to be seen in.

And the city's old name was something that Tim thought sounded familiar.

It wasn't until they were digging into the countries archeologist permission records, meaning the people who were given the okay to dig in the historical site, that he found out why it sounded familiar, his parents names were some of the last to have been granted permission before their deaths, and it was then Bart had jokelying said

"Hey what are are the odds Robs parents stored the relic away ages ago! Would be a tiny bit funny if this all powerful item is just collecting dust in some warehouse."

And although it was meant to be a joke. Tim stared at the description of the relic and couldn't help but question perhaps there was some merit to it. Tim, for the first time in years, opened up his parents archeologist records and went to looking.

And low and behold they found out. Still sitting in a warehouse outside of Gotham, as if his parents were going to trust Gotham with important and priceless relics unless it was in their house to study later.

So in short, retrieving the relic should had been easy enough, get in and remove it from storage. Lock it away so the cult looking for the damn thing couldn't use it. Simple.

But trust Bart goofing around with Kon and accidently bumping into Tim when he was inspecting the relic and turning it on.

It apparently opened a glowing green portal... a portal that opened under Tim and dropped him into an entirely new dimension of the Undead... Great, just great.

"Ooo a visitor, we don't get breathing guests here all too often." A voice spoke out behind him, it held an echoing in its tone. He turned around and was meet with glowing eyes and snow white hair. "Although you should probably find a way home or else Walker will find you, knowing him he'll toss you in prison for just breathing, and I'm not joking."

[augustsprincess]

August Walker x Reader (Drabble)

Warnings: Daddy/little vibes, noncon/dubcon, violence...its August.

There's no plot I'm sick and possessed.

It was your fathers business, then it was your brothers business. You didn’t care for the details of it, you just looked after the gardens and made sure the house was in good condition. Talked to the servants and all that. Sure, you knew it was a dodgy business. Far too often you saw people going home in body bags in the dead of night. But you chose to ignore it.

The current guest….was a man named August Walker. You caught a glimpse of him as he was dragged in through the back door, unconscious. He was gorgeous in a demented, do not touch kind of way and that intrigued you all the more. So when your brother said he’d be away on business for 2 days and you weren’t to go into the basement…well. It was obvious what you would do. One peak wouldn’t hurt, right?

At first the man is terrifying, and even speaking to him is like dipping your finger into a lake of piranha and waiting for one to snap.

But eventually you realize his binds are painfully tight around the centre column he's sat against, which means you can tease and annoy the living daylights out of this poor guy. And hey, if he's tied up in your basement it's for a good reason. Maybe a bit of fun torture would do him well. Besides, you were dreadfully bored and the staff had all gone home for the weekend.

He can’t do a thing.

The more he calls you a slut, bitch, whore or worse, the more you giggle. It infuriated August to the point he almost welcomed death.

On the first day, you sit 10 inches from him with your drawing pad and sketched him. You made small talk, showed him your drawings. He'd even admit you're a decent artist, that is until you added the kitten ears and heart stickers to his illustrated face. After a few hours your curiosity grows. You've one pink heart sticker left and you want to see how close you can get to the lion before the lion rips your hand off.

"Don't..." He warns. You giggle. "I mean it, girlie. Don't you put that thing on me." He wiggles again and you pout, frustrated. “Get the fuck off me, dumb bitch!”

“Hey! That’s not very nice! I’m giving you my heart!” You giggle. Once he calms down you try again, ignoring his persistent complaints. The more he speaks, the more his warnings turn to a plea. "Hey! No!" He shouts, snatching his head away from your index finger.

"Hold still, Mister! It won't hurt." You gently press the sticker to his left cheek with your finger and smooth it over with a gentle kiss and a loud “Mwah!”

August huffs as he stretches his face muscles to try to get it to wrinkle but the damn thing won't come off!

"All pretty! Good night, mister." You blew him a kiss as you closed the basement door and left him alone for the night.

“Stupid girl…..” He mutters. Wait… Why was he so uncomfortably hard? “Fuck.”

On the second night, you feed him some bread and cheese by hand and reluctantly he actually lets you. You were finally taming him!

August sits with you in his lap, a firm and unwavering snarl painted on his lips. You begin to play with his curls with one hand, and his chest hair with your other. All the while August is growing more and more hard under you. You're so distracted by a specific lock of his hair that you fail to notice all but a sound when the rope finally snaps behind him.

With a stupid amount of bravery you climb into his lap and start to tell him all about your day as if he was a willing listener. You feel something solid beneath your skirt but choose to ignore it. Your nonsensical ramblings about the latest episode of your favourite TV show send him into a begging frenzy yet again, but what you don't realise is that those bindings are getting more and more loose as you yammer on.

"Did you hear that?" You ask, curiosity lacing your words

"Must be the pipes. We are in the basement, girlie." He lies.

You snort at him. “I like you. You even have a cute nickname for me! I’ve never had a nickname before.”

You start to comb your hand through his hair and you're suddenly taken aback by the look he's giving you. Like the cat who got the cream. Was he...enjoying you stroking his hair? You tried not to think about it and continued but his unwavering stare and….lustful eyes? Well, you were drowning in them.

You're gently pulled closer by his left hand and in your naivety you give him a sweet smile before the penny drops.

And boy does it fucking drop.

You gasp. His fangs show in a sinister grin and you launch yourself from his lap, snatching his hand from your hip. He only has one hand loose so you take it as your opportunity to escape, slamming the door behind you to slow him down.

You sit in the cloakroom, cowering with the cobwebs and long forgotten coats of the guests who never had the chance to leave this house. Hoping and praying your brother would be home soon to save you. But the truth of it was, superheroes don't exist.

The heavy sound of the prisoners bare feet on your father's old wooden floors beat in tandem with your heart as he chases you through your home. Eventually you lose him and as quietly as humanely possible, you climb into the cloakroom and hide.

Nothing was coming to save you.

You stayed silent for what felt like hours before you were alerted to a dull creak and a loud slam as the cloakroom door was almost ripped off its hinges.

"Found ya!". You screeched as you were physically dragged from the cloakroom by your ankles.

"No need to squeal, little pig. It'll only hurt a bit." You clamber to your feet, the harsh carpet making your ascend slow enough for August to catch you first. He sticks his foot out, tripping you to the floor again, toying with you. Like you were food.

"Oh stop crying, girlie. I thought you liked to tease?" You try to stand and run again but you're thrown over his shoulder in a split second and no amount of hitting him is helping. There’s nothing else to do but to watch his feet as he carried you up the stairs, straight to your bedroom.

With one swift movement and a harsh grip of your hips he has you pinned, chest down to the bed.

"That's a good girl, stay still for Daddy." He purrs, pulling your bright pink stockings from your legs. He tosses them to the floor as he climbs onto the bed, the mattress deepening under his heavy body.

"Please! I'm sorry, I was just bored! I didn't mean to upset you-" You try your best to help yourself, but it’s like a switch just been flicked and he turns from excited, to pissed the fuck off.

"You were 'bored'?!" The man flips you to your back and yanks your body towards him, as he leans on his calves. "No, no, no. You're a slut. A dirty brat and you thought you could get away with it, didn't you? Thought I wouldn't break free and catch you. Well I know just what you need, just what you asked for."

If you could, you would laugh at the situation. Here was this gorgeous, dangerous and absolutely insane man. Kneeling at the end of your bed, hard as a rock and all the while with a heart sticker attached to his cheek. And he was so pissed!

It was the reappearance of the rope binding in his hand that brought you back to the severity of the moment. Fear turned to manic terror as you shuffled backwards.

"No...no! Please don't!" August climbs on top of your body, thick thighs trapping you to the bed as he deliberately presses his hard crotch into you.

"Ah, ah, ah, shhh." He presses his index finger to your lips. You can't stop him, he's twice the size of you at least. So you watch as he ties your hands to the headboard of the bed.

Once he's done, he leans down....covering your entire body with his own...

"I fuckin' hate a tease." He snarls into your ear, before your pretty pink skirt is ripped clean off.

You’re pulled back to the office with a sudden wave of guilt and shame. Your face felt like it could light a match and your coffee cup almost slipped from your sweaty hands.

“Are you alright, Miss? You look like you just remembered an embarrassing dream.” Mr. Walker teases, before he walks on past your desk and towards his own. Fuck. How could you have forgotten that dream until now? How could you have even dreamed something like that up, and with your boss. And that look on his face, it was as if he knew.

You shake your head and face your computer, determined to continue your work and get on with your day. Maybe you could look into therapy later or talk to your best friend about it. Surely there was a completely normal reason for dreaming about your boss being tied up in your basement and then chasing you for some depraved, frustrated sex. Right?

“Ms. Y/S/N, Mr Walker would like to see you in his office, it's urgent.” Fuck.

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Demons are a girl’s best friend

Daryl Dixon x reader | SMUT🔞

You hide from the rain in a church, not knowing a very interesting beast already claimed the place as his home.

Anon requested Monsterfucker!reader x Were!Daryl, with some preg and pups!

The church building was in a good state, within a gate that seemed to hold up surprisingly well against dead. It had been used to house the religious folks of the town when the problems first started and had housed many more groups for short period of time before they too moved on in search for something permanent.

The place was good, but didn’t house people anymore. Nowadays it was covered with warning signs sprayed with graffiti warding off anyone attempting to enter.

A once human man made himself at home in the place, needing a roof and walls now too with his home in the woods constantly being overrun by the dead. Except these days he no longer resembled a man. The only evidence of him ever being one was still tucked in a pocket of the old, army green bag he carried around that now held his most common clothes. Among those a leather motorcycle vest with tattered wings stitched on the back, and a wallet with the long expired ID of a blue eyed young man named Daryl Dixon.

You could handle a little rain, but the rate it was coming down now was a little too much for you.

Making your way around to find a place to hide you came across an small church.

You hated churches in the old world. Their people were never your people but now you thanked the building being empty and available to you.

The interior still kept its beautifully made details, now graffiti’d over and makeshift fabric walls hung in places. The pews had been moved for space too.

It all looked like it was used at the start as a safe house.

You were gonna stay and made sure to barricade the doors to keep unwanted guests out, dead or alive, while you slept.

Moving some pews against the doors took longer than you hoped, even when you took the closest ones.

You were tired now. Tired and ready to pass out for the night and pray the storm was over by then.

But a low growl scared you wide awake again. You just blocked your way out and didn’t check the building for walkers first. The scraping of the wood over the floor must have woken them up..

You mentally cursed at yourself for being so extremely stupid, keeping quiet to not further announce your location while you snuck off. With a hand on your hip you remembered taking off your knife belt and leave it at your bag. In the same direction the growling came from, right behind a fake wall.

“Fuck me..”

You were officially done with this world. You rounded the place to get a view of what you were dealing with while also trying to find anything that could function as a weapon, picking up a candle holder on your way and taking the candle itself off to use the iron spike at the top.

You kept low to the ground, hiding behind anything you could use as a cover. The growling had stopped and sounds of buckles undoing and items moving around had stared before the growling picked up again, now right where your bag sat. You could have sworn you heard your knife belt hit the ground and your bag scoot over the ground. It sounded heavy, so it had to be. There was nothing else there.

Now that you were thinking about your bag, you let out a sigh remembering you could have hung your dirty clothes out In the rain to at least rinse them and dry them over a fire later.

You were almost where you needed to be to get your items and enemy into view.

Just a few more steps and—

With a loud clatter the candle holder fell rom your hands at the sight of what was rummaging in your bag.

He had his head stuck in your bag, soft muffled growls sounding from it. His wrapped tail wagged happily.

You knew immediately what he was, and understood it was easier to survive while keeping the form he kept now. If it had been anyone else standing in your place they probably would have ran, but you were a little too distracted by the beast currently going through your bag with the largest hard-on you had ever seen.

Mind you, you had seen some impressive ones before, seeing monsters weren’t too rare in your area before the world went to shit, but this beast in its entirety was huge.

Probably not a city wolf.

At the clattering sound the beast pulled his head rom your bag, your dirty laundry hanging off his muzzle.

Your panties, to be precise..

Your hands were up in defeat, but your eyes kept going between his own, and the angry red cock between his legs. A string of drool hung from the corner of his mouth and your mouth spoke before your mind could stop the words from flowing.

“You know it tastes way better from the source, right?”

The beast shook the panties off his face, slobbering all over the scattered contents of your bag in the process and looking you dead in the eyes while licking his lips. A large paw moved from the floor to find his member and give it a few tugs, letting out a satisfied growl as he kept his eyes on yours.

You watched him, almost hypnotized. He knew exactly what he was doing and the effect it was having on you. You could feel yourself getting wetter but never moved an inch to get closer to him where he stood over your bag and weapons.

He did look very handsome. Strong too, he could snap you in half with one hand.

“C’mere.” The hand that was touching himself before how reached out for you, precum staining the pads of his fingers.

You weren’t gonna make him ask twice and stepped closer to him and watched him stand up to his full height, ending with his chest at your eye level. The extended hand reached for your face, stopping in front of your mouth. “Clean up.”

You stared at the glistening liquid covering his paw pads before taking his hand in yours and gently licking his thumb clean, giving the pad a kiss before moving on to the next one.

While you worked you felt tugging at the waist of your pants, the button being torn off not so gently and pulling the zipper in half along with it.

“Hey, those were my good pants..” you pouted against his middle finger, lips resting against the skin but your whines were ignored as he kept tearing the fabric further and continuing with your sweater. He urged you on to continue cleaning his paw instead of moping over lost clothes. “Got spares, go on.” His muzzle was right next to your ear as he moved in to sniff at you from up close, taking in your sweet scent and let out a hum.

By the time you had his paw cleaned you were stripped bare, only remains of pant legs and boots.

The cold air hitting your skin had you shiver, now really feeling how wet you were getting.

With both hands available again you were grabbed by the hips and manhandled onto one of the wooden pews, ass right on the edge and legs held wide open. “Be’er from’e source, hm?”

The anticipation was killing you, reaching for the long tufts of fur on his head and pulling his muzzle against you.

With his nose pressed against your clit he let out a growl at your hair pulling, which you took note of and tucked the info away for later.

A large claw came to rest on either of your thighs and the rough surface of a huge tongue slid across your lips. With a little prying and prodding your hips jerked at the sudden intrusion, feeling his tongue slip deep inside while his jaws opened wide enough to wrap around your lower end. He was holding you up now as he shoved his tongue in and out of you, making sure to not break your skin on his fangs.

His rough ministrations had you moaning in mere seconds. "Fuckk, you know what you're doing, huh.." your hands found purchase at the base of his ears, rubbing the thin flesh between your fingers and pulled a moan from the beast between your legs that vibrated deep inside of you.

You felt his tongue brush against your most sensitive spot, making your grasp on his ears tighten and pulling another whine from him. It made your walls clench around him, signaling you were close.

"Keep going.. please.." You tugged softly on his ears, moving your hands into his long fur and pull at it hard to make him let out those vibrating growls two, three times before squeezing your walls tight around his tongue as you tipped over the edge. You slumped against the wooden bench and let go of his fur, watching him pull away from you slowly, sitting on his haunches in front of you and going back to paw at his cock and lick his lips.

"Now you." His mouth formed a wide grin as he moved himself to sit on the wooden pew next to you, moving to pull you to your knees in front of him. "Go on."

You stared at the large member in front of your face, trying to find the easiest approach to get this done.

You started off with simple licks to get a taste, all the way from the base up to the tip before wrapping your lips around the tip and sucking gently. You had to keep your jaw wide open to fit only his tip inside and almost gagged on him already.

"Ahhw.." Two padded fingers stroked your hair, his claws never touching your skin. The fingers moved to the back of your head and pressed, shoving himself all the way against the back of your throat causing you to gag and pull back. You coughed while he let out a laugh. "S'rry.." the chuckle in his voice was a clear sign he didn't mean it in the slightest but you let it slip.

You cleared your throat and moved to get back to work but were stopped by a pointed claw against the chest.

"Wha, huh? I thought you wanted me to return the favor?" You stayed seated before him and watched him move off the pew and onto his knees in front of you.

“S’fine.” His mind wandered, looking you up and down to take in your details, taking in your scent that was almost addictive. He took both your hands and placed them on his cock for you to play with before his hands found your head and pulled you closer, his nose pressed against yours. After a short moment his head tilted slightly, for a quick moment resembling an adorable confused dog before his mouth opened and he licked across your mouth. A broad stripe from cheek to cheek that had you involuntarily smile in response, barely parting your lips but just far enough for him to prod his tongue in between.

Your hands worked as best as they could on his length while the again fucked your mouth, this time without making you gag on him. You wanted to kiss back, but swirling your tongue around his was the best you could do for now until he stopped and pulled away again.

He looked around the place, towards your bag and bedroll. “Tha’ soft?” His paw was pointed at the rolled up thick fabric attached to your bag and got a confused yes that lead to him going to fetch it and lay it out on the ground. “Go ahead.”

“You want me to go lay down?” He nodded and you made your way down on the soft bedding. “Hmhmm, no fur. Cold floor, s’bad.” He followed your movements with his own, ending up hovering above you. His paw lifted and moved down to your core, mimicking the motions he remembered from his days as a human but stopping right above you. You followed his gaze down and saw him stare at his hand. Instead of asking him what was wrong you took two of his fingers and pressed them to your clit, carefully moving them around making you jerk up your hips in excitement. “Like that, jus the pads. S’good..”a The roughness of his fingers was a welcome feeling and you saw the tense energy leave your companion too now that he was pleasing you properly.

You reached out for him but your hands couldn’t make it all the way down to his cock. Instead they found purchase in the shorter fur of his chest, kneading the soft muscle underneath. Light scratches and squeezes made him purr above you, joining your mewls.

“Want it in, tha’ okay?” He was nuzzling your neck as he lowered himself to lay on top of you, grumbling something as he couldn’t get comfortable.

“Get comfortable.” You moved yourself up on your elbows. “We’ll make it work, big guy.”

He was sitting on his haunches and looked between the two of you before moving to lower him to his knees, his back paws stretched underneath him so his crotch was lower to the ground. With a satisfied nod he took your hips in his hands and pulled you up against him, hips in his lap with your legs spread and shoulders still on the soft bedding beneath you. “This good?” His deep voice was comforting, making sure you were okay.

“I’m good, puppy. Don’t worry about me.” You reached your hand down to pat his thigh. “I’ll make myself known if if hurts.”

Ears perked up at being called a puppy. He wasn’t a puppy, he was a monster. Did you really feel like he wasn’t s threat? You did invite him to do this to you without hesitation after all.

You intrigued him from the moment you spoke your first words to him. And it didn’t help he found you incredibly attractive. He could have easily used you for his pleasure and snap your neck afterwards but he felt drawn to you. He had to think of a way to ask you to stay after the storm passed.

He kept one hand on your hip to keep you steady as the other one moved to rub his tip between your folds, gathering slick before pressing in the tiniest bit. He watched you like a hawk for any signs of discomfort, stopping at even the smallest grimace as he stretched you further than anyone ever had.

And hurt it did, but your constant reassuring had him slowly continue to rut his hips into you, pushing further in inch by inch.

“You hurt.” A rough paw wiped away a tear on your cheek and stopped moving again.

“I’m fine, you’re just so big, baby..” You added a little wiggle of your hips at the end of your sentence to add extra reassurance.

Gods, the compliments you gave him went straight through him, urging him on to keep going until his legs gave out. But he knew better and kept up with your body’s limits. It’s why it took him a while to be fully sheathed inside of you with his knot pressing snug against your lips.

Tongue was lolled out of his mouth by now and you were breathing heavy but smiling, your hand moving to poke at your stomach that showed how deep he was buried. “Fuck, that’s insane. Hot though.” You squeezed around his length, telling him to start moving and he did, slow thrusts at first that had you whine with the slight discomfort.

The feeling quickly faded and turned into pleasure, leaving you a moaning mess in his lap until he pulled out and moved you onto your stomach.

You audibly complained at the loss of contact but almost screamed when he crawled over you to pull your hips up and shove himself inside again, one quick move to be buried entirely.

Immediately his muzzle was buried in your neck again, lapping and sniffing, mumbling from time to time as well as he kept rutting into you. “Hmhmm smell so sweet,” he lapped at your ear, your jaw and your neck before licking right down your spine and pressing his nose to your skin. “Smell good for breeding..”

You moaned underneath him, barely registering his words. “Whatever you want baby, just keep doing what you’re doing.” You tried to reach for him but you had no strength left in your body. With your face against the floor you didn’t see him raise his brows in interest. He thought of pulling out before he came, earlier. Shoving himself down your throat and make you swallow it all but that quickly changed to doing exactly as he said.

One of his hands on your hips moved to rub his pads over your clit, making you moan out loud. Your clenching signaled him you were close and set a pace to work himself towards the end as well.

Your moans and whines were music to his ears, you sounded so pretty. He could barely contain himself already and then with a long drawn out cry you came around his cock, squeezing you walls and making him howl.

A deep, rumbling howl as he thrusted deep into you, taking two or three tries to shove his knot past your lips and finishing deep inside you.

The extra stretch hurt like a bitch, but it was so worth the pain.you got to spend the night with a gorgeous creature and cuddle with him too for the time it took his knot to deflate.

“Ya okay?” He was back to lapping at your cheek and nuzzling you affectionately.

“Hmm yeah, all good.” You nodded and moved a hand to pet his head, rubbing your fingers over his ear again to earn a soft hum. “M’happy.”

He held your hip in one hand and your chest against his in the other and moved to lay down with you, getting you positioned right so you wouldn’t be hurting.

You were resting on his stomach, head on his chest as you began to wonder. “Hey, do you have a name?”

His large paws came to rest on your back, mindlessly drawing figures on your skin. “Yeah. M’Daryl.”

You played with his long fur and smiled, giving him your name in return. “Well, goodnight, Daryl.”

Weeks passed after that night and a lot happened in you’re the small church that had become your home after the stormy night.

It was only a couple days later that you found out Daryl had in fact done what he promised and had knocked you up. A week later you woke up from your sleep in pain, crying into Daryl’s chest as he held you, unsure what to do against the pains of your body changing to carry his pups. You slept through the entire next day while Daryl hunted for food and brought back some fish in the meantime.

You had just finished eating and sat in one of the pews staring at your stomach. That night spent in pain resulted in what you could only describe as canine teats, small nubs on your belly that had started to round out by now.

When Daryl saw them in the morning after you both passed out he was beyond excited. You had asked him what it meant and got scared by accident when he told you “puppies, many.”.

You weren’t against the idea of pups at all, you were excited even, but the many part was what had you feeling scared. Daryl made sure to comfort and ensure you everything was going to be okay.

And he was right. At almost three months you could barely walk, but you were doing totally fine.

Daryl wasn’t enjoying the fact that he had to leave you alone to go hunt, but you needed food now more than before. To his luck he found a deer that would feed you at least until the pups arrived if you rationed it well, so he didn’t have to leave your side again.

Daryl made it clear he was enjoying you a lot in your current state, resting his head against your belly and purring, speaking soft words while he thinks you sleep. Words of love and adoration, sometimes of worry, but those never linger.

At each and every mewl of being uncomfortable he’d be on you for comfort, be it carefully kneading your muscles, holding your belly to relief some weight or lap wt your sore breasts. He’d happily take any leaked milk as thanks for the care.

It was the middle of the day, you were relaxing in a beam of sunlight that came through the stained glass windows and painted you in many colors.

“Daryl?” You had been feeling uncomfortable ever since you woke up the day before but it had gotten way worse all of a sudden. Tightening muscles had you double over in moments, suddenly feeling weight shift low inside of you. He was on you the second his name left your lips, feeling around your stomach and up your skirt before stopping and pulling his hand away. “You feel and talk. Can’t touch ya, claws..” he wiggled his fingers in your view before helping you back onto the nest you built in preparation for this, needing to stop every few steps because of the contractions. “Ya good? M’sorry t’hurts.”

You could only nod and hold onto your painful belly as you sat against the stuffed bags, breathing through contractions while Daryl unwrapped your skirt and took your hand, trying to place it between your legs but your belly made it almost impossible to reach. “Just leave it be, we got this.” You tried to sound convincing but it was clear the nerves had kicked in.

“Strong momma, you.” His muzzle nudged the underside of your belly as he inspected your progress as best as he could, trying to spread your lips with just the pads of his fingers and feeling them bulge outward with each of your cries. “You see anything?” You managed to ask between deep breaths, getting an eager nod in response. “Snout. Good work.” A soft pat on your thigh added to the compliment.

Daryl watched you work, his large hands holding your thighs spread until one moved to cradle your first pup’s head. “Bit more, then a break.”

You huffed at his comment, but pushed hard to get your first child out of you, groaning in relief as you felt it slip out entirely.

“Good momma.” Daryl laid the pup down between his arms and started to clean as you caught your breath before the second pup made itself known. You wanted to see so bad, but you never got the time to look as the second one came a lot quicker than the first. It hurt less but still took effort, listening to Daryl’s short updates and commands and feeling his hands move around you between pushes.

The sun had gotten down by the time you were all done. You were on fresh sheets instead of laying in the soaked ones from before and all your puppies were laying comfortably against your skin, squeaking softly as they were suckling away. Four little creatures, cleaned up by Daryl the second they were out of you.

And Daryl? He was curled up in front of you, watching the most beautiful scene he had ever witnessed. He stared at the puppies, up your figure and to your face, where he found you staring right at him. “They’re so small,” he watched your hand reach of the pups and pet its head. “so weird, seeing how big you are.”

A low rumbling laugh left him as his hand joined yours, softly running a knuckle along the back of the pup. “No worries, momma.” He moved to stretch and lay down even closer, his nose an inch from your chest where the first pup nursed, and his tail resting over your legs. “Lil’ ones grow big fast.”

He couldn’t do anything but stare, feeling his mind wander to the days of chasing the pups through the woods behind the church and teaching them how to hunt while you foraged. But he also admitted to himself he enjoyed being inside with you while you carried his children. He quickly told himself off, not allowing himself to even think about asking you for the next few months. The two of you first needed to figure out being parents in this new world.

[nosesitter]

Help, I’m stuck!

| Father in law!Joel Miller

3.9k words

a/n: let me real quickly clarify no I don’t wanna fuck my FIL I just wanna fuck Joel Miller, this came to me in a completely different way but I added another idea in and made this! I hope y’all love it cause as I post I’ll be writing an add on cause FIL Joel was something I didn’t know I needed. It’s niche but someone has to write it, also PLS let me know if you want anything specific I love writing blurbs for people 🫶🏻 not even Joel miller I love hot characters, masked men, mean men, thot men, BIG BURLY HAIRY MEN!! Joel will talk more next part I just could only get him in at the end

⚠️: Father in law!Joel Miller, reader has an onlyfans, no Sarah but Joel does have a grown son, age gap not specified for reader but Joel is 55, no outbreak, it’s definitely dub/con, mentions of alcohol and drugs(don’t do any without me), recorded sex, small anal and food play?(it’s just a line you’d probably glaze right over it), f masterbation, unprotected pinv, toys, creampie, use of sweet pet names 🫶🏻and then the word slut is tossed around a couple times, reader can fit in a dryer lmfaooo never thought I’d type that

“The whole ‘stuck inside the dryer’ that could be fun.”

Two years ago you started an only fans. Your husband loved the idea of it. Hyping you up, filming the content, giving you ideas. He loved coming home seeing you dressed up, camera ready to record the homemade videos, it made him insane, causing him to go hard and give it his all only to throw in the towel after your wet cunt milks him of his release 30 minutes after hitting record. It became a full time job for you. Once you started it was hard to stop, pulling one orgasm out of you opened a Pandora’s box of animalistic lust, in the past you’ve been called a nymphomaniac. It was a blessing and a curse to be so horny all the time. After videos with him you would let him rest, kissing him goodnight then heading to the guest room to make solo content. Your trusty pink vibrator and thick realistic dildo helping you reach your climax 5 more times before you call it a night then head to bed to edit and post the content.

Your husbands words ring through your ears as he opens a bottle of wine for you. ‘Stuck in the dryer’ it was simple really, trying to think why you’ve never thought of it before. Tonight you’re having dinner with your father in law, Joel Miller. The grumpiest old man you’ve ever met. In the two years you’ve been married you’ve seen him smile a few times, once when the two of you met, another at your engagement, and then the night of your wedding as you were leaving for your honeymoon, very quickly he grabbed your hand and pulled you into a big hug ‘welcome to the family’ he whispered when he pulled back a drunken smirk was plastered on his face. there was something about the whole interaction that sent a shiver down you spine. After the honeymoon he was over, a lot. Finding things around the new house to fix. Always mumbling to himself;

‘them new contractors don’t know what they’re doin’

Walker entertained his dads need to be helpful and useful and so did you. So to return the favors you’ve banged out dinner and dessert for the man. As you’re setting the table there’s a loud knock at the door. Walker grabs the door and smiles big when he sees his father pulling him into a manly hug, both of them patting each others back three times. “Welcome in dad! Yeah, she’s in the kitchen just finished up.” You can hear Joel’s voice ask for you, maybe it was the sip of wine you just had but hearing his voice made your legs… buckle.

His boots stepping across the hardwood floor, crossing the threshold into the dining room. Standing next to the set table, one hand on your hip the other holding your generously full glass of wine. This has to be the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on Joel’s face.

“Hello there sweetness ,you do all this for me?” Pulling you into a side hug his big warm arm going around your waist. tightly. yours going around his shoulder as you rest your head on him for a brief second. You pull back but his one arm lingers around you a little while longer.

“Well we just wanted to say thank you for working so hard to help fix up the place.” He sets the 6 pack he brought with him on the table grabbing one of the bottles and twisting off the cap and wrapping his lips around taking a big gulp. There’s a sudden dryness in your throat and you swear you can hear yourself gulp when he pulls the bottle away and runs his tongue across his bottom lip to gather the excess.

“Let’s eat, honey I’m hungry!” Walker says and the three of y’all sit down and begin to eat. One thing about Joel is that he’s a vocal eater, meaning he will moan and groan if the food is good. He loves your cooking, says it’s just like his ma’s even brought his brother Tommy over for him to have some too. You’re surprised he’s not here either. So when Joel stabs his fork into the baked chicken you were making earlier it comes as music to your ears when he lets out a throaty growl. Legs crossing even tighter now causing you to reach for your glass of wine.

When everyone finishes with dinner you head back into the kitchen to grab Joel’s favorite, your mixed berry pie. Quick on your heels is your husband. As you’re closing the oven he comes behind you wrapping his arms around your waist pressing kisses into the side of your neck. “Mm I keep imagining you on your knees inside the dryer.” He mumbles into your ear his breathy whisper making you giggle from its ticklish feel. He presses himself into the back of your ass the dress you’re wearing is already thin enough so you can practically feel the outline of him on your skin. Grabbing the pie again you quickly get out the kitchen and back to Joel.

“Everything all good, sweetness?” Joel asks seeing your chest and face red from your husbands advances.

“Oh it’s nothing just talking with Walker about the dryer, we might get a new one.” Walking back out the kitchen Walker points his beer at his father exclaiming.

“No need to fix this one dad, we’re just gon’ replace it.” He tells him and Joel just holds his hands up as you’re cutting him a slice of pie. Your hand raises to stop him from scarfing it down so you can add the whip cream on it. You shake the bottle and you can feel the eyes of both miller men on you as you shake a little too hard causing some to spray out. The spurts of cream landing on your chest and falling onto your hand.

The whole scene comical for your husband but absolutely stunning for Joel. You just laugh while your fingers gather the white cream off your chest and into your mouth. He’s looking up at your while he sits in the chair completely dumbfounded by the scene in front of him. He prays he doesn’t need to get anytime soon because the both of y’all will see his complete hard on for his daughter in law.

“Well dig in Joel, it’s your favorite!”

———

It’s midnight by the time you finish cleaning up. the bottle of red wine sitting empty in the recycling bin and your husband on the couch barely awake. You wake him up and lead him into the bedroom, getting him under the covers and pressing a kiss against his lips before he whispers goodnight and a quick love you. You head into the bathroom and strip yourself of your dress, bra, and panties. Then head into the guest room grabbing your camera and putting it on the tripod set up in the corner. Laying back in the bed you start slow at first. Hand slowly trailing down your chest, ghosting lightly over the swell of your breasts. Squeezing your tits together, thumbs rubbing over your hardening nipples. Your head whips around as you begin to think about your husband and how you love to sit on his face, the feeling of his mustache on your clit. Trying to work yourself up more you think about something else, maybe about how he fucked you on the back patio, him laying on the chaise while your hands hold onto the arms rests. His hips rutting into you while you hover over him.

As your hands reaches your clit like a flash of lightning there’s a brief imagine of Joel. when he was cleaning the gutters, it had been raining for weeks and it was so humid that when he came over within 10 minutes he had stripped himself of his flannel and under shirt. Standing on a ladder one leg bent the other straight as his hands were above his head, the humidity causing beads of sweat to trail down his tan broad arms and causing his gray wife beater to blacken. The whole scene made you rush back inside, heading into the kitchen to try to forget by making him fresh squeezed lemonade.

Your hand pulls away with guilt but theres a gush that comes from you, putting your hand back between your legs your fingers gather the arousal that pours out of you. Sitting up you grab your dildo from the bedside table and begin again. Tapping the head of it against your clit the teasing causing you to moan. One hand holds the dildo while the other spreads yourself back for the camera your fingers opening up into a ‘v’ as you rub the side of the dildo along your exposed cunt. Gathering your wetness so you can slip in the thick fake cock. The dildo has more girth than your husband. His dick was long but it just didn’t give you the stretch you wanted. Pushing the tip in you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as you slowly push more in. A couple seconds pass and you can feel the toy bottom out inside you stretching you out perfectly while also lightly bushing against your cervix.

Slowly you begin to move it getting used to the stretch. To edge yourself on, your fingers go to your nipples tweaking and rubbing your arousal over them causing the air to hit the wetness sending a chill through you. Your hand goes for your neck lightly pressing yourself into the bed, then another flash of Joel with his thick hand wrapped around the whole bottle. it was tiny in his big ruggedly hands. There’s a loud moan that escapes your throat and your hand holding the dildo between your legs begins to thrust faster. Now you can’t help but think of him as the sound of your gushing cunt gets louder, it’s fucking pornographic. Another image of him and it’s when your husband surprised you with a hot tub and you found Joel in it when y’all came from your honeymoon. He was red with embarrassment even though he asked his son if he could use it. You remember him getting out, water dripping down his salt and pepper covered chest the heavy drops falling off his body and his swim trunks getting stuck to his big thighs, the outline of his cock was far bigger than your husbands.

A very loud moan comes from your mouth one last time and you’re looking between your legs at the arousal squirting out of you. Your head tosses back into the pillows as your hips go crazy bucking up and into the bed. Pulling the dildo out of you and winching at the emptiness you now feel. Your shame is coating the bed and running down your arm. you swing your legs that feel like noodles over the bed and head into the bathroom to wash off the thoughts of your very hot father in law.

———

There’s a bubbling nervousness in the pit of your stomach as you set up the scene. Camera set up on the tripod, the laundry room cleaned up to look like it’s never been used, and the pillow you set inside the dryer for you to bend over on. You decided to dress up for the part wearing a tight see through tank top, shorts that a too small your ass is hanging out no doubt but the real kicker is that you’re not wearing any underwear so when your bent inside the dryer they ride up causing your whole vagina to be exposed to camera view. Knee high socks and a pair of converse. it’s about 10 minutes to 12 so you decide to loosen up by smoking a little before your husband comes home for lunch.

Heading home baby see you soon!

Walker doesn’t work too far away so you finish up the joint you rolled and head back inside to your place in the dryer. You can hear his truck pull up, the engine dies and the driver door closes, your phones dings a couple more time but you don’t check it. Quickly you press record and get on your knees and head first into the dryer.

The front door opens and you begin.

“Help, I’m stuck!” You shout out before he could get out a hello causing his rushing footsteps to come past the dining room and into the laundry room. You can feel his presence behind you but what you didn’t expect is the catcall whistle that came with it.

“I got stuck in the dryer, please help me!” You plead with him wiggling your ass around, your hungry cunt wrapping itself around the crotch of your tight shorts. His hand comes down and slaps your ass hard you’re thrown off by the force he gives you but he must really like this idea since he suggested it. A deep growl comes from his throat and you can hear him getting on his knees right behind you.

“Just get me out please!” Pretending to plead with him. Walker usually talks but he’s quiet today you think nothing of it. He presses himself against you feeling the cold buckle on his belt on the back of your thighs. The roughness of his jeans as he grinds himself into you. You move forward slightly but his hands grab your hips holding you in place as he continues to grind into you.

One of your hands try to go for his belt behind you but he’s quick to slap it away. He leans back on his knees and pushes you more into the dryer ass hiked up higher. He begins to pull your shorts down to your knees and slowly trails his fingers back up your exposed legs back to your ache between your legs. “If you’re going to eat me out move the camera closer.” Breaking character for a moment you tell him and then you hear shuffling and then the sound of your tripod being picked up and set closer to the dryer.

His left hand spreading your cheeks apart the other has his finger ghosting lightly over your entrance. Suddenly there’s a harsh feeling of Walker spitting right where his finger begs to be. His middle finger pushes inside and begins twirling around inside of you. The sound of wetness and his finger pushing deep into you makes you moan out loud the echo of it escaping the dryer. Still having your cheeks spread he adds another finger this time, his ring finger. The force his hand is giving you gets faster and faster then he starts to make a come here motion with his fingers. The stretch of his two fingers alone have you white knuckling the pillow. Then his lips press a light but wet kiss to the other hole that’s getting no attention. The feeling of his mustache right on you pubic bone makes you giggle a little then his lips lower and you can feel the prickly sides of his cheeks against you. He forgot to shave this morning. You like when Walker lets his little facial hair grow out. His beard is patchy just like his fathers but you love the look. His fingers curve inside of you again and suddenly you’re about to cum.

“Fuck baby, I’m so close!” Panting out. The force from his hand gets faster and harder causing your body to shake as he begins to pound his hand into you. One of your hands goes behind you to grab his wrist. His other hand grabs your arm and holds you tightly there as your body begins to convulse violently. With your hand back behind you, you can feel your orgasm approach, well you can definitely feel it. You start squirting again the feeling of your orgasm shooting at walkers clothes. He’ll have to change before he can leave. Your arm still being held in place while his other hand begins to grab at his belt buckle. The sound of the zipper going down, then his tip slides right between your folds. Back arches from the contact you want more.

“Please fuck me.” You beg, ass wiggling around trying to find his dick so it can just slip right in but he stops you with his big hand giving each of your cheeks a few slaps. Your free hand goes behind you to stop the spanking but he’s quick to grab it and hold it with your other hand. You can feel his bare dick twitch behind you, just dying to be inside of you like a compass pointing right into your cunt. Before he pushes himself inside of you his fingers grab at the wedding ring right on your finger sliding it off and hearing the metal hit the top of the dryer. Confused but you decide to not ruin the moment with a simple question.

His fingers grab at his base to straighten his cock out and almost immediately upon penetration you know this isn’t Walker. Your head turns slightly to look behind you and you can see the recognizable green flannel that belongs to your father in law, lower part of it soaked with your arousal. His big broad hand holding both your arms back, veins poking out of his flushed red neck. His bottom lip sits between his teeth, his eyes catching you staring right at him.

“Poor little housewife, begging for her father in laws cock.” As much as you want to push him away, scream, fight, and cry for your husband your eyes just roll right back as he bottoms out inside of you. He’s the perfect size, the perfect girth, he’s perfect right inside of you and he knows it too. His free hand goes for the tripod taking the camera right off and moving it closer to his dick that’s moving slowly all the way out then slowly all the way back in.

Your mind isn’t thinking about where your husband is or how he might be standing at the door watching the whole scene happen before him instead you’re thinking about every vein you can feel on his cock, how stuffed you feel, how his balls slap right up against you, the mound of black and white pubic hair he has and how ticklish it feels grinding against you. The whole situation is fucked, how can you even go back to your husbands skinny dick? How can you ever look in your father in law in the eye after this? There’s a hard slap at your ass followed by Joel’s hand grabbing the skin at your hips.

“Such a good little slut.”

The coil in your lower stomach feels hot to the touch, your body smushed into the dryer the metal indenting into your skin. Your knees get closer together causing your pussy’s grip on Joel to get tighter around him. His hand lets go of both of yours as his thrusts get sloppier, he’s going to cum inside of you.

“Uh uh baby, you’re gon’ take this and you’re gon’ love it.” Both your hands try to push yourself out the dryer but joel just raises one of his legs to kneel beside you blocking your body from moving anymore from him. As much as you don’t want this your hand can’t help but wonder to your clit. Joel’s notices this and puts his hand over yours, your two small fingers and his two big ones rubbing all over your clit. The pressure is so much that you squirt again, your climax is grotesquely satisfying, tears begin to flow out your eyes as Joel moans very loudly, he sounds like he hasn’t had an orgasm in years and you just let the beast out the cage.

Following your release Joel gives you one last thrust practically shoving his cock inside your cervix, spraying hot cum all inside of you it feels like you’re full, so full of Joel’s cum. Body shaking around him milking him of everything he can give you. His thrusts get slower but you’re pressing back into him hard just chasing the high of being stretched full. His hand that’s still on yours slaps your clit and you’re coming again in an instant. He laughs at your desperate body as he looks down at his cock to see the white ring on cream sitting around base of him. Slowly he pulls out, his body goes limp and he lays against the washer right beside you.

Finally out the dryer you catch your breath and look at the red light blinking on your camera. You stop it the video and it saves it. A big part of you wants to delete this and curse at Joel for taking advantage of you like that, a small sluttier piece of you wants to watch it again while you suck joel clean. You just set the camera to the side, not deleting it yet. You and Joel just look each other in the eye while he begins to put his dirty dick back in his pants. he zips up and then gets up groaning like the old man he is in the process.

“You better get cleaned up, don’t want my boy to see his slut wife with his dads cum in her.” You sit on the floor at his feet just watching him grab his bag of tools and leave. Your phone dings and you wonder if it’s Walker telling you to move out cause he saw the whole scene.

Got fucking pulled over I was too excited to head home and fuck you! :(((

Just gonna head back to work :( hungry and horny see you tonight baby

While you look at those texts, one pops up sent 30 minutes ago from Joel

Hey darling I’m gonna head over and check out that dryer for ya, see you soon!

———🏠💍👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻

Like, comment, reblog, validate me 🫶🏻

0802

[asunsetgrace16]

Died of a Broken Heart ⎥ NM29

Pairing: Nathan MacKinnon x fem!reader

Summary: It turns out that it is possible to die of a broken heart

Warnings: sad sad sad, swearing,

Notes: I take it back. Kind of. I don't think my groove is entirely back, or maybe it was just the fics I was working on. I wrote this in four hours around midnight and this is my first attempt at writing something sad. I will say that it was hard to not cry writing this, so hopefully 🤞 you guys feel some emotions too. There isn't much dialogue in the beginning. Also, broken heart syndrome is in fact a real thing

masterlist ⎥ navigation

Word Count: 3.7k

Nate is numb. He’s been numb since about 10:30 last night, when the police knocked on his door. He had been home for 20 minutes max, having just gotten back from Cale’s house, supper with him and Gabe and Mikko. Tracey was up in Calgary for a few days. Y/N had dinner plans with her work friends, it was Shannon’s birthday. The world tilted on its axis as he was told that Y/N was killed. They soberly tell him what happened forty-five minutes ago. Hit-and-run…they are looking for the driver…happened in the restaurant parking lot…no, she was the only one. Nate’s pretty sure he stops breathing, because he feels a firm hand on his elbow guiding him back into his house, coaxing him to take deep breaths. Blood rushes in his ears, and he thinks, Australia, their honeymoon. He lifts a hand to wipe his face. When did he start crying? 

The police stay for a while, watching him carefully until they are sure he won’t spiral into a panic attack, ironic all things considered. When he is semi-into it, they explain everything again. 

Ok,” Nate says, “would you...you mind, um, coming back in the morning? I need to hear this once some of the shock wears off.” His voice is quiet and strained. He doesn’t fight the tears silently rolling down his cheeks. They agree to his request, leaving with a handshake and squeeze on the shoulder, hints of agony shining through their masks of professionalism.

Nate stays sitting at his kitchen table, head in his hands. Sobs shake his body, uncontrollable and awful. He cries so hard he thinks he might cry himself sick. Eventually, he leans back, face twisted with emotion and damp with tears. Slowly, he heads to bed. Each movement is mechanical. He tosses and turns, his sleep is plagued by once-sweet memories of Y/N turned into cruel reminders that she was ripped from him.

Eventually he gives up and moves to the guest bedroom. He cries more, more than he ever has. He wants Y/N, he wants to kiss her, and hold her, and take her to games and-.

-

Next thing Nate knows, he is waking up to the sun streaming through the curtains. He is confused at first, the stiffness of the bed isn't what his bed feels like. As he opens his eyes, last night comes rushing back. He doesn’t want to believe it. They had just started their life together, with promises of love and kids and 60 more years. The tears start again, slower than the previous night but no less gut-wrenching. Reluctantly he heads to the bathroom. He looks worse than imagined. Red and puffy eyes that unfortunately make the blue pop, pale skin and chapped lips. Nate’s hands shake as he splashes water on his face. 

Taking a deep breath, he tries to get some semblance of a list to make sense in his mind. He shoots off a vague text to Bedsy, letting him know that he might be late for practice, not knowing how long the police will take. 

It turns out that it only takes half an hour. The same officers from the night before knock on Nate’s door at 7:30, introducing themselves and Parker and Walker. They recount the night before in more detail. Y/N was killed at 9:48 pm, during a hit-and-run in the restaurant parking lot. She was the only one, none of her friends were even injured. They tell Nate that it was an instant death, painless…that she didn’t suffer. Nate is frozen in his chair, back ramrod straight and hands clasped tightly. Walker leaves a copy of his first report, and his phone number in case Nate has questions. He walks them out, shaking their hands and thanking them for coming over again.

Returning to the kitchen, he pulls out a notepad and pen. Nate lists off the things he needs to do. Call his parents. Call Y/N’s parents. Call the funeral home. Talk to C-Mac and Bedsy and the team. Get through practice. 

He decides to wait on calling his parents, saving that for the afternoon. Same with the funeral home. He is in a daze the whole time he prepares for practice. He makes his usual protein drink, but he thinks that he used orange juice instead of water. Nate’s not sure. He also isn’t entirely sure how he made it to the arena without running a red light.

His whole walk to Bedsy’s office is stressful. He dreads the thought of having to have this conversation more than once. He knocks on the open door, seeing C-Mac there as well. 

“Hey Nate, I got your text.” Bedsy starts, looking at Nate, concerned, “You ok? Respectfully, you look like shit.”

“Feel like it too. Can uh, both of you come down to the dressing room? Like now? I have some, some uh,” Nate stops, swallowing, “some news, and I want to say it as few times as possible.”

“Sure, all right.” Bednar and C-Mac glance at each other, worried. They’ve seen Nate be not ok before, but this is new. Nate is silent during their trek to the dressing room, still holding his orange juice and green protein powder monstrosity. Bedsy opens the door, gesturing for Nate to go through first.

“Hey Nate, you forgot your jacket at mine last night. You didn’t pick up when I called.” Cale tells him. Nate is standing where Bedsy usually stands.

“Uh…ok thanks, Cale. I was um…I was a little preoccupied last night. Sorry” He responds. His voice is shaking, his hands are shaking, Bedsy and C-Mac are getting increasingly concerned and Nate feels on the verge of a panic attack.

Cale grins suggestively at him, “Ohhh, I see, I see how it is. Getting a little lovin’ on with Y/N I s-”

Nate interrupts abruptly, cutting straight to the chase, “Y/N is dead. She’s dead.”

The whole locker room freezes. Cale’s jaw drops. Someone's water bottle hits the floor.

“Holy shit-” 

“Oh my god.”

“Nate, you need to sit down.”

The voices swirl and blend around him. Nate’s vision loses focus, and cotton balls are stuffed in his ears. Hands find his elbows, easing him into a stall. Someone kneels in front of him. Nate stares, glassy eyes unseeing. 

Slowly, he comes back. His throat is raw and scratchy and he needs water. Mikko tosses over a water bottle and a clean, damp towel.

“Start from the beginning, Nate.” Jo urges softly.

So Nate recounts the story. The entire team is close around him as he repeats what he was told this morning and last night. Their faces reflect the horror and agony Nate feels. Tears fall when he says that her death was instant. He hears sniffles from somewhere, and everyone else is crying now, too.

“It’s good,” he says, “knowing that she wasn’t in pain, but it is awful knowing that there was no chance of saving her.” His voice breaks, he covers his mouth with a hand sobs as quietly as he can. Cale hugs one side and Jo’s on the other. Once the tears slow, he takes the towel that Mikko’s holding. 

“Practice is canceled, today and tomorrow.” Bednar says, “I don’t want Nate to be left alone. Cale, Jo, Mikko, go with him and grab Gabe too. I will talk to the league, see about rescheduling the game tomorrow. I will have to tell them, Nate.”

“No, you guys play. Say I’m out day to day or something. A practice muscle strain.” Nate objects.

“Nate, your wife died less than twelve hours ago. We will not be playing hockey. I’ll phone in and say we forfeit. I will tell Bettman that the news doesn’t go out until you, me, and C-Mac give an interview.”

“Ok.”

-

The afternoon follows a similar pattern. Cale drives Nate home, Jo phones Gabe. Mel brings soup when she comes with Gabe. She folds Nate into a hug as he cries. He makes the excruciating phone call to his parents and hers. Cale smartly suggests doing a triple call so there’s only one conversation. 

“Where should I bury her?” Nate asks, “Here, or should she be back home?”

“Nate, her home has been with you for years. Keep her close to you.” Y/N’s dad tells him. Nate nods forgetting that they can’t actually see him. Gabe takes notes while they discuss the funeral over the phone. Granite headstone, brown casket, service at St. Andrew’s and burial in the graveyard nearby. The reception will be held in the hall near Nate’s house. He doesn’t want people in his house. The date is set for March 5th. 

The media has a field day upon the announcement that the Avs have forfeited their game against the Stars. Sid calls him within a minute.

Nate forces the team to play their next game three days later on February 28th. It’s at home against Buffalo. They lose in an uncharacteristic fashion, so much so that the Buffalo players notice something is really wrong.

Gabe takes care of most of the funeral arrangements, and Nate is forever grateful. He meets with the funeral director, sending with him the clothes he picked out for Y/N to be buried in. Before he leaves, he hands Nate a box.

Opening it, Nate finds her purse. Her phone. A box with her wedding rings. Jo finds him with shaking shoulders and his head in his hands.

On March 2nd, a week after Y/N died, Nate asks for a press conference. The Avs lost both games they played in that week, with Nate a very conspicuous absence. Bedsy asks over and over if Nate is sure that he wants to go through with it.

“I’m sure. It won’t be a secret for much longer.” Nate says. Bedsy just nods. The trio of Nate, Bedsy, and C-Mac file into the media room.

Nate starts, wanting to get this over with as fast as possible. “I’m aware you all have been wondering where I have been this past week.”

The reporters nod. Nate takes a deep breath.

“On February 23rd, I received news. News that my wife was killed in a hit and run accident. It happened in a restaurant parking lot as she was heading to her car.” He stops as hands fly up. C-Mac picks someone.

“Nate, I am very sorry for your loss. Is this why the game was forfeited last week?”

“Yes, it was. It was a shock to all of us, and none of us were in any condition or mental state to play.”

“How is this going to affect the rest of your season?”

Nate scoffs quietly. His wife is dead and they are concerned with hockey. “I have decided to take an extended leave of absence from the team. I won’t be playing in the game tomorrow night, nor will I be for the rest of the season. My life was completely torn apart a week ago, I have more important things right now. I do ask that I be left alone right now, no reporters at my house or on the street. I want privacy.”

With that, Nate walks out. Cale is waiting to drive him home and he takes one look at Nate and pulls him in for a hug. He is tired of crying and tired of people saying they are sorry and tired of missing Y/N and tired of being tired.

-

No. 1 

February 24, 9:09 pm

Nate: Hey guys, I have some news.  Davo: Period at the end of the sentence. This won’t be good Nate: Y/N was killed last night, hit and run Sid: Oh my god, Nate Sid: Are you ok? Were you hurt? Davo: Oh shit Nate: I’m fine, but I guess that’s relative right now Nate: I wasn’t there. She went to dinner with friends. It happened in the parking lot Auston: I am so sorry, man. I realize that that is probably not what you want or need to hear, but I don’t know what else to say Nate: No no, it's ok. I appreciate it. I think I’m still in shock, so not much room for anything other that devastated right now Ryan: Is there anything we can do? Nate: No, not right now. Funeral’s on the 5th, if anyone wants to come. My place is full, but any of the guys would let you stay with them Sid: Of course we want to come, it's just a matter of whether we can Ryan: Even if any of us play, once the news is out most teams will probably want a player there for support Davo: I checked and it's in the middle of a break for us. Ryan and I will be there, Leon too probably Jack: We’re out west on a road trip, but I could try and pull some strings to come. Nico will try to be there too Owen: We are at the end of a homestand that day, but I’ll probably get to come. Can’t do much worse than we already are Owen: That was bad, sorry. Lame-ass excuse for a joke Nate: Don’t be. It almost made me not frown. Thank you Juraj: I’ll be there. We are in LA the day before. Newy will want to come Baby Connor: I’ve got a break before our trip down there. I’ll be there. Dammit why am I baby Connor again? Nate: Cause you are a baby. I really appreciate it, guys. Thank you Baby Connor: Dude obviously. You can’t just drop the worst news of your life and not expect your number 1 buddies to rally the troops and support you Nate: The kid’s gonna kill us all. I didn’t need to cry again but everything makes me cry now, I guess Baby Connor: Oh my god, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to Nate: I know, just messing with you

-

The funeral goes perfectly. Nate’s and Y/N’s parents arrived a few days ago and have been staying with him. It’s a comfort to have them there, though most days he feels like he’s wading through quicksand. There is usually a teammate there, or two. Sid flies in the day before, same with all the guys from the groupchat. Naz comes from Calgary. EJ and Tyson come, and other Tyson and Bo make the trip out with Owen. Alex comes with Juraj. Nate spends the day crying silent tears and hugging more people than he cares to remember. Mikko, Cale, EJ, Jo, Tyson, and Sid are pallbearers at the funeral. He gives a speech, short as he can get away with. His voice breaks and wavers the whole time. Y/N’s parents and Nate’s say a few words, and the priest reads the eulogy. 

The weather is mild for the burial, Nate almost wishes it was miserable. The day passes in a daze, making awkward small talk with people he barely knows, Thankfully they leave within an hour. The rest of the people there manage to lift the mood a little and Nate moves from crying to barely frowning. Connor Bedard sticks close to him most of the time. Nate is grateful for him, he’s a good kid with a good heart. He hugs Connor extra hard before he leaves to catch his flight to Utah.

-

“Nate!” Cale calls, knocking on his door again. He’s normally never late, but things still aren’t normal. Nate was the one who suggested that they go skate, not practice, but just to skate. A change of scenery. Cale finally gives up and digs his key out of his pocket. He’s a little confused when he sees that none of the lights are on. Nate hasn’t been himself, but this is weird. Nate’s dog Aspen appears from the hallway. 

“Hey buddy, where’s Nate?” Cale asks him. Aspen circles Cale once before heading back towards Nate’s bedroom. Cale follows him. Nate’s door is shut tight and Aspen has his nose shoved in the corner. Opening the door, Aspen bounds to Nate’s side, where he looks to be still asleep. He whines, getting his nose under Nate’s hand.

“Oh my god.” Cale whispers. Nate is a shade of gray no living person should ever be. “Oh my god.” He moves to the bed. Nate is cool when Cale touches his wrist. He fumbles for his phone, dialing 911 when he doesn’t find a pulse.

-

“Sid…” Kathy calls up the stairs, “Get down here, you have to see this.”

Sidney hustles down at the tone of her voice. Kathy is standing behind the couch, remote gripped in one hand. He stands behind her, hand on her waist. Her hand drops the remote, coming up to cover her mouth as they hear the news.

"... and now we have saddening news coming from Denver, Colorado. It is with our deepest condolences that we announce the death of NHL star, Nathan MacKinnon. He was found early this morning after failing to meet teammate Cale Makar, for morning skate. Makar called 911 when he found MacKinnon in bed after he didn’t answer the door. According to law enforcement agencies, MacKinnon died peacefully at home overnight, but suddenly, with no chance of resuscitation once they arrived on the scene. His death comes just weeks after the death of his wife, Y/N. What this means for the Avalanche and the rest of the season, we don’t know. More, after the break.” 

Sid thumbs open his phone to the news app. Every headline is the same variation of announcing Nate’s death. Tears fall on the screen.

Colorado Avalanche teammates of Nathan MacKinnon, coach Jared Bednar, yet to speak on the star’s sudden death.

Breaking News: NHL Superstar Nathan MacKinnon, dead at 29. What does this mean for the Avalanche?

“The NHL offers its deepest sympathies and condolences to Nathan and Y/N MacKinnon’s families during this time of tragedy.”

“Nathan MacKinnon, announced dead this morning weeks after his wife, Y/N MacKinnon, was tragically killed…”

Details about Nathan MacKinnon’s death are expected soon.

-

THE COLORADO SUN

Details emerge on the death of Colorado Avalanche star Nathan MacKinnon

J.P Burrow, 12:00 pm March 30th, 2025

Four weeks ago, the hockey world was shocked when Nathan MacKinnon, 29, appeared in a press conference after being notably and unusually absent from two home games, both lost in depressing fashion to weaker teams. What he revealed that day was the furthest thing from what anybody expected.

We were told that a week prior, MacKinnon’s wife Y/N, 27, was killed in a hit-and-run car accident. Her funeral was three days later. Understandably, MacKinnon withdrew from the public. His teammates were a constant source of support, but that only goes so far when grieving your spouse. He decided to take the rest of the season off.

MacKinnon and Y/N were married for three years, and together for nearly ten. They were fan-favorites throughout the league, despite them being notoriously private. MacKinnon never smiled as much as he did when he was talking about his wife. 

Now, thirteen days ago, the world was rocked again when it was announced that MacKinnon was dead. Details surrounding his death have been revealed after an autopsy. The report revealed that his heart sustained damage after Y/N’s death, caused by a sudden, constant surge of adrenaline in the days following. This causes a disruption of blood flow in the heart, similar to a heart attack. It is fittingly called Broken heart syndrome, where the death of a loved one can trigger the condition. Death is rare, but it happens.

We reached out to friends of MacKinnon’s across the league, his own teammates commented in a press conference earlier today.

Connor Bedard: Nate was a close friend of mine, he helped me a lot when I first got into the league. I looked up to him a lot. Once I got to know him outside of hockey, I learned just how amazing of a person he is– was. I was shocked to learn that he died. We had just landed in Denver for our game against them when Cale [Makar] called me.

Sidney Crosby: It was a lot for all of us, the whole month. I’ve been close with Nate for ten years, he's my best friend, so to say that I’m going to miss him is an understatement. I saw how much Y/N dying crushed him, they were made for each other. Hockey was his first love, but Y/N was his true love.

Gabe Landeskog: The season changed for all of us after Y/N died and Nate took time off. There will be no replacing Nate, his skill, his passion…it left a hole. I’m not going to sugarcoat things. This will be really difficult to come back from. It won’t be this season, maybe not even next season, but we are going to fight, for Nate. He would want us to.

-

“He really died of a broken heart.” Cale says before turning to bury his face in his wife’s hair, crying silently. He hasn’t been the same since finding Nate, taking his own leave from the team.

For the second time in a month, the Avalanche and company are reunited, standing in black around a grave beside the one they stood around three and a half weeks earlier, but another person short. Y/N’s headstone will be put in the same day as Nate’s. EJ is holding Aspen’s leash, who took him in when Nate died. He’s retiring, he told everybody when they gathered the second time. The past month reminded him that life is short. He is moving back to Denver to take over Nate’s house. They had found a notebook in his bedside table that had the beginnings of a will written in it. He wanted EJ to have Aspen, and the house if he wanted it. Pictures, his suits, and Y/N's wedding dress were to go to his parents, donate his and Y/N's clothes, and box away his Avalanche gear and ship it to Sid in Nova Scotia. Their wedding rings go to Sid too.

“But now they are together again.” Jo says, smiling through his tears. The thought brings some comfort to them, knowing that Nate has been reunited with the love of his life, and won’t spend the rest of his life missing Y/N.

[holylulusworld]

Between a rock and a hard place (6)

Summary: You are in big trouble and in need of money. Two wolves are more than willing to help you. For a price…

Pairing: Mobster!Walter Marshall x fem!Reader x Mobster!August Walker

Warnings: angst, language, power imbalance, debts, scared reader, groping, gaslighting, darkfic, both brothers are not nice guys, mafia au, a tiny hint of fluff, possessive Walter, jealousy, this author has a size kink and it shows

Between a rock and a hard place (5)

Between a rock and a hard place masterlist

Walter ends the tour in front of his bedroom. You don’t know what this is all about, because he only showed you around the house.

“What do you say?” You blink at his question, struggling to find the correct answer to his question. “Do you like your new home? I changed a few things, let the maid buy some plants and such to make it nicer for you.”

“It’s…nice…and…uh…huge,” you stammer, unsure if that’s what he wanted to hear.

“I knew you’d like it,” his huge hands cup your face. You feel so small and weak close to Walter and August. “My sweet little lamb. I saved the best for last.”

He lowers himself to press a surprisingly soft kiss on your lips. He claims your mouth like he did with your body and soul.

“OH—” You’re breathless when he finally pulls away, a smirk on his kiss-swollen lips. “You did?” In honesty, you don’t want to know about the surprise he saved for last. It can’t be good. If you learned one thing about the brothers is that they always get what they want.

“Close your eyes,” he purrs in your ear. “Trust me in this, lamb. I know you’ll love it.”

“Okay,” you breathe out. What else can you do but follow his orders? He’s holding your life in the palm of his hand. And his hand is so fucking big it could crush you in the blink of an eye.

“Good girl.” He praises you when you close your eyes and allow him to guide you along the hallways. He stops shortly after and unlocks a door. “Go inside.”

Walter moves his hand to the small of your back and guides you inside another room. He silently closes the door and locks it behind him.

“Open your eyes, sweet lamb,” he encourages you with a soft nudge to your side. “Go ahead and have a look around.”

You open your eyes to look around the room he brought you to. Speechless you turn toward Walter.

“What is all of this?”

“I called our interior designer and asked them to create the room you described on your blog. I even got the fluffy carpet.” He smirks when you gape at him. “You won’t get carpet burn when you kneel for me to suck me off.”

He recreated one of the rooms you had on your blog. A blush and white bedroom. Walter even got a white bed with pink and white bedding, a pink canopy, and a crystal chandelier.

The room was designed by someone who put a lot of effort into details. They used soft fabrics, elegantly curved furniture, and ornate gold mirrors and wall art frames.

“I don’t understand,” you wrinkle your forehead. “When did you find the time to do all this?”

He shrugs. “I found the time to do it for you.”

“I—” you don’t know how to react. Walter allowed his brother to use you, while he was using you like a toy. At the same time, he let someone create your dream bedroom.

“It’s alright, my sweet lamb,” he cups your face again to kiss you greedily. “I wanted you to have a place to come down. August is not allowed inside this room. Only I can unlock it.”

A shudder runs down your spine. This is not a bedroom but a prison.

Walter’s features soften for a second at your pained expression.

“What I wanted to say is, that he’s not going to taunt you in here. You are allowed to leave the room whenever you want to.”

“He doesn’t like me,” you murmur. “If he gets the chance, he’ll hurt me or sell me off to one of your guests.”

“Baby lamb, you know nothing about our dynamic,” Walter smirks. “If I lay claim on someone, August knows he’s not allowed to harm the person. You’re mine. If he wants to stay alive, he’ll not touch one hair on your head.”

“But—” you bite your lower lip, remembering how they fucked you in sync. “You let him have me…”

Walter chuckles as you shy away from his intense gaze. “We always share the good things in life. He’s allowed to touch you when I’m around. But only if I tell him so.”

You press your legs together. Having them both touch and use you wasn’t what you dreamed of on lonely nights. But you can’t deny that they woke a side of you that you never explored before.

“Hmmm…you liked having us both inside of your tight little holes,” Walter cups the back of your neck to steal another kiss. “Remember, you’re mine. He cannot have you outside of the club.”

“I…I don’t…I wouldn’t…”

“My sweet lamb is a secret vixen,” Walter concludes as his big hands move toward your ass to grope you roughly. “How about you decide on what we do next at the club?”

“Me?”

“As long as our VIP guests like the show, you can tell us how to fuck you,” he grins before kissing you again. “Think about it…”

“A pink room,” August throws a tantrum. He reminds you of an angry child as he paces back and forth in the dining room. “What will you do for her next?”

Walter remains silent. He simply watches his brother throw insults at him. “I thought about a reading nook at my office. She could read there, while I fuck her.”

Heat creeps into your cheeks at Walter’s words. He describes how he’d fuck you from behind while you read to him. Walter is shameless.

“Did you even listen to me?” August growls.

“I told you to stay the fuck out of my business,” Walter waves his brother’s words off. “We should talk about the show we want to put up for the VIPs. I want my little lamb to choose.”

“You want her to…” August pants heavily. “You lost your damn mind, brother! Are you insane? You cannot let her decide! We will fuck her ass and cunt and double-team her again.”

“We will discuss this later,” Walter angrily glares at his brother. He pats his thigh, waiting for you to sit in his lap. “I want my lamb to enjoy herself. If she comes with us inside of her, they will go crazy.”

August sits back down and crosses his arms over his chest. He watches you crawl in his brother’s lap with angry eyes.

“You’ll come so hard for us,” Marshal murmurs to lure you into sleep. You sigh and rest your tired head against his shoulder. He pats your head. “Right, little lamb.”

Sighing deeply August gets up from his seat to walk toward you. “I told you to call her by her name. She’s not some pet. Her name is Y/N.”

You flutter your eyes open to watch August stare at you in his brother’s arms. “Ignore him. He’s just jealous you like me more.” Walter narrows his eyes at his brother. “He knows that you’re mine, though.”

“I only want you to treat her like a person!”

“Says the man who wanted to let our guests use her,” Walter bites back. “I protected her from you and all the vultures at the club. She’s my sweet lamb, and I call her whatever I want to. We are still in the honeymoon phase and pet names are cute.”

“Does she call you sweet bear or shit too?” August tries to rile his brother up to make him snap. “Does she?”

You murmur Walter’s name, half asleep. It’s all you can do to calm him.

Walter is all you have left in this world. Your husband is dead, and all that’s waiting outside these walls is pain, sorrow, and debts. You desperately latch onto his attention and the sliver of hope he gives you. False hope.   

August doesn’t stop. He’s determined to make his brother snap. “She moaned the loudest when I was inside of her,” he smirks darkly when you hide your face in his brother’s chest. “Aw, don’t go all shy on me. You were all too eager to suck me off.”

“August,” Walter snarls his brother’s name. A warning to not cross a line.

“Do you have a problem, brother? If so, why did you share your sweet lamb with me?” August won’t stop. He loves to twist the knife if he gets the chance. “Why did you let me ruin her ass?”

“Because you wouldn’t stop annoying me. You shared your bitch with me and wanted me to pay you back. If you do not stop, you’ll never touch her again!”

August snorts. “You will let me have a taste whenever we are at the club.” He puts his hand on your ass and squeezes hard. “Right, baby. You will let your Auggie fuck you good and deep. Maybe I’ll breed your cunt next time too.”

You squirm in Walter’s lap. August’s words go straight to your lower half and you can't fight the wetness slowly coating your panties.

“There you go, Y/N,” August coos. “I bet that pretty pussy can’t wait to get bred.” He cups your ass with both hands. “I let them all have a look at your cum-leaking cunt next time.”

“Breeding bench,” Walter growls. His chest rumbles and you squirm even harder to rub your aching sex against the growing bulge in his pants. “We will bring one to the VIP area and give them all a good show…”

Tags in reblog.

[princessaxoxo]

Halloween Night

August Walker x Reader

Dad's best friend

Summary: You're invited to August's annual Halloween Party.

Warnings: 18+ Only, NSFW, age gap, kissing, cussing, Unprotected sex, p in v (doggy style), pet names (Daddy, princess, baby, good girl, bad girl), oral (f receiving), denial of orgasm

Word Count: 1.1k+

A/N: making more one-shots from the idea of August being your dad's best friend. You can find the master list here.

As you entered August's home, you were greeted by a lavish interior decorated for Halloween. When you first searched to find your parents, you were not able to track them down. As you didn't recognize anyone here, it wasn't going to keep you from enjoying yourself. You grabbed one of the many cocktails known as Witches Brew. It contained edible glitter and had a purple hue.

As you lifted it to your lips and took a sip, the sweetness of the beverage overshadowed the alcohol just a little. You licked your lips and muttered, "Mhm," aloud.

August was looking at you, far away; you hadn't noticed him focusing on you since you arrived. He took notice of your costume this year; you wore a black mini dress, spider tights, thigh-high black heels, arm-length black gloves, and a witch's cap to complete your costume. Which was driving him insane. It molded your body perfectly.

Even though he was making every effort to look away from you, you made it difficult for him. In hopes that it might work, he turned his focus back to the discussion with his colleagues.

Because you had never been here before and were curious to see everything, you took the opportunity to tour his house. With increased curiosity about what was upstairs, you ascended his stairs. Two of the rooms were on the left, while two were on the right. First, you made your way to the right, opening the first door you saw, which you could have guessed was a guest bedroom. You were not interested in it, and the door next to it led to a bathroom. The master bedroom was the first door on the left as you crossed the hallway. August's empty room. You decided against going inside his bedroom because you felt it would be too intimate. Instead, you went to the last door and opened it to discover, even in the darkness, that it was an office. This intrigued you. Making sure no one was nearby, you glanced over your shoulder and saw no one was.

Silently, you shut the office door behind you and approached his desk. You turned on the small lamp that was there. As you sat in his chair, you peered down at his work, which you couldn't comprehend.

Peering down, you noticed drawers, but when you tried to pull them open, they were all locked. You said to yourself, "Well, this is no fun."

“Why is it not fun?” August's voice startled you. He was resting against the door of his office. He was dressed like Patrick Bateman, complete with a blood-spattered overcoat, which you could see when he got closer. You instantly replied, "Nothing."

“Is it my party? I agree with you in that regard. All the people downstairs are dull.”

As you laughed at his comment, he motioned for you to come closer, calling you to come here. At last, his eyes were able to capture you all so precisely. As you approached him, your heels made a clicking sound on the wooden floor. He reached out and removed one of your gloves to plant a kiss on the inside of your wrist. He then brought you in close for a kiss, his lips moving in perfect harmony with yours, which parted naturally for him.

With a moan against your lips, he said, “I’ve missed you, baby, more than you know."

"Show me how much you've missed me, Daddy," you said as his hands wandered over your body. You gave him an innocent expression and pouted. It took him only hearing those words come out of your mouth to lose control. He shoved you down on his desk and kept you down while pushing up the minidress you were wearing.

Once he saw your ass, he gave it two hard smacks. Which caused you to flinch and jerk forward, but August saw through your act and felt your arousal as he stroked his fingers against your clit while you were still wearing tights. He gave you another smack, saying, "You like when I slap your ass, don't you?" You stammered out a yes.

"Bad girl, not wearing any panties," August tsked, as he tore your tights open and discovered you were missing your underwear. "Did you do this hoping I would see?" He gave you a curious eyebrow lift when you turned to face him again. "Yes," you replied while biting your lip. As your arousal glowed before him, he licked his lips in anticipation.

You observed as his cock sprung free as he undid his jeans and dragged them down, along with his underwear. You licked your lips freely. And your breathing and heart rate increased. He knelt and said, "I've craved another taste of you, princess," and you immediately felt his tongue in you. His assault on your pussy was unlike anything else, making your thighs tremble and saying, "Oh shit." 

Like a man who is famished, his tongue licked your pussy all over. The feel of his mustache evaluated your pleasure. 

As he paused and you whimpered from the loss of orgasm and his contact. He quickly stood up, aligned himself with your entrance, and said, “You have this pussy swollen and sticky for me," and then he violently thrust into you with a snap of his hips. You let out a loud moan and threw back your head.

His thrusts got harder and harder until your eyes were forced shut and your lips fell open. His nails seemed to be digging deep into your hips. "That's my good girl, fucking take my dick," you moaned as two firm smacks struck your behind once more. "Daddy, I love how it feels. Please don't stop."

He clutched your hair tightly in his fist. “I want you louder. I want the sounds of you to be heard by everyone downstairs.” You could hear the sound of your skin smacking and feel his balls pounding your ass. "Baby, go faster." He pulled your arms behind your back and dragged you up against his chest. He took hold of your jaw and kissed you powerfully and sensually. You could feel yourself on the verge of another orgasm because of his immaculate rhythm. You moaned, "I'm going to come; don't stop."

He stroked your clit quickly after kissing along your neck, hitting your g-spot in the process. Soon after you felt August fill you up, your thighs trembled as his come dribbled down your leg.

August said, "Let's get you cleaned up, princess," as he helped you to the restroom. His care for you was phenomenal. No one knew what had transpired between you two as you both slipped back downstairs afterward.

[all-the-things-2020]

Joel’s Pony Party

Summary: You are planning a birthday party for your six year old niece. Turns out the guy who runs the pony party place offers you more than just a pony ride.

Rating: R (some sexual content toward the end); 18+ only, please!

Word Count: 6200+

Notes: I saw a horse trailer one day with a sign reading “Joel’s Pony Party” and my mind went on from there. This is an AU where there is no outbreak and Sarah and Ellie are the same age.

Maybe this was a huge mistake, you think as you steer your car down the increasingly potholed road. Obviously, a place with horses would be outside of town, but this didn’t look like the most savory area. Still, the pictures on the website had made it look nice, so you owed it to Ashley to check it out.

It had made so much sense at the time to volunteer to plan your niece’s sixth birthday party. Your sister was still knee deep in diapers with her youngest, Ashley’s little brother Jacob. Your brother-in-law was a sweetheart but useless at this sort of thing. His idea of entertaining was buying a 24 pack of beer instead of a 6 pack and buying the name brand chips for the queso dip. No, Ashley deserved a special birthday and you were going to give it to her.

You checked the directions you’d printed out from the internet. You should be close. The road curved slightly and you saw the neatly painted sign. “Joel’s Pony Party — Birthdays and Special Occasions.” The property looked much nicer than some of the places you’d driven past. The fencing was new and the driveway was freshly graded. So far, so good.

You drove through the gate and marveled at the paddock full of ponies and a couple of horses. Some of them lifted their heads from the grass to watch you drive past. They all looked healthy and well groomed. One of the bigger ponies, a flashy black and white pinto, tossed its head and galloped along the fence line, racing your car. 

You parked in the graveled lot clearly marked “Guest Parking” and turned off the engine. A teenaged girl with an abundance of curly hair waved at you from the door of a tidy red barn. “Dad will be with you in a minute,” she called out. “You can pet the ponies if you want.”

The little pinto was trying to reach over the fence to you, so you obliged, scratching its nose and forehead. The pony smelled wonderful, like fresh hay and sunshine and that undeniable smell of horse that brought back your childhood. Trips to the pony ride at the park had been the highlight of your existence when you were five years old.

”She doesn’t have anything for you, Oreo.” The voice was slow and easy, not too deep. “Sorry, he’s a beggar. I’m Joel Miller.” The man held out his hand and you shook it. His grip was firm but gentle and his hand engulfed yours. You tried not to stare as you took in his broad shoulders and the neatly trimmed scruff on his face. A delightful combination of cowboy and businessman. 

You introduced yourself. “I have to admit, I was a little concerned after driving past some of those places down the road, but you have a beautiful property.”

Joel nodded his head. “Thank you, ma’am. Sarah and I try to keep it up to snuff.” He tilted his head toward the girl. “If she ever outgrows her horse phase, I’m in deep trouble. Can’t keep this place goin’ without her.” He looked wistful for a moment, then snapped back to business mode. “So, you’re lookin’ for a place for your niece’s birthday. Let me give you a tour.”

He led you through the barn, which was cleaner than some houses you’d been to, and showed you the party area, a covered patio with brightly painted wooden picnic tables. Beyond it was a miniature race track. “The pony path,” Joel said. “Rather than one of those mechanical hot walker contraptions, we put the kids on a pony in there and let them walk around. Me or Sarah will stand in the middle and keep the ponies moving if they get too lazy, but otherwise the kids get to be in charge.” He chuckled. “Well, as in charge as anyone can be with a pony. Got some characters.”

Joel gestured toward a large shade tree. “Here’s where we hang the piñata.” Then toward a long table under a colorful awning. “And that’s where you can put the gifts and the cake. Keeps them out of the way of the kids.” He shuffled his boots in the dust. “We have two packages: Pony Princess and Cowpoke Experience. Most boys go for cowpoke but girls are pretty evenly split. Or we can do a hybrid if you’ve got boys and girls coming.”

He pulled a brochure out of his back pocket and spread it out on one of the picnic tables. As he leaned over, his shirt strained at his shoulders and it was all you could do to keep your focus on the brochure. And his thick finger as he pointed out the options.

”Pony Princess comes with a unicorn and the piñata is a dragon. We also have a trunk of dress up clothes. Fairy wings and princess dresses and magic wands, stuff like that. The birthday girl gets to wear a crown, ‘cause she’s the princess.”

”Cowpoke Experience comes with roping lessons and the piñata is a cowboy boot. No guns, but we have cowboy hats and bandanas and leather vests for dress up. And the birthday kid wears the sheriff’s badge.”

You glanced at the prices at the bottom of the pages and nodded. Yes, this would do. And even if it was a bit more than you’d planned, you’d gladly pay it to spend more time with Joel. 

“Definitely Pony Princess for Ashley,” you said. “She’s in her Disney Princess stage right now and all her friends are into fairies and magic and everything.”

”All right, let’s get the calendar and see if we can get this scheduled for you. Sarah!”

Sarah popped out of nowhere. “Yeah, Dad?”

”Run and get the booking calendar, would you? Need to set up a party for this nice lady’s niece.”

”She seems like a good kid,” you said, desperate to make small talk so you wouldn’t gawk at the man in front of you.

”She is,” he said with a smile. “A lot like her mama was.”

”Her mother …” you didn’t know how to ask without seeming nosey.

”Passed on when Sarah was little,” Joel said softly. “It’s been  just the two of us. Well, and my brother, when he’s around. And now the horses.” He sighed. “I used to be a contractor but I messed up my back pretty good and my cousin Louis was moving to Alabama so he offered me the place. Already had a good business doing pony rides, and it was Sarah’s idea to start doing birthday parties and events. She’s gonna be a party planner or something like that when she grows up. Organized and on top of everything.” He shook his head, a soft smile on his lips. He was clearly very proud of his daughter.

Sarah dashed up with a battered leather planner in her hands. As she laid it down on the table, she pulled a pencil out of her pocket. “See,” Joel said. “Always prepared.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “It’s just common sense, Dad.” She flipped the pages to the current date. “Hope we can fit you in close to your niece’s actual birthday.”

You perused the calendar. There were two sets of handwriting, one neat and precise but masculine, the other just as neat but more exuberant. You spotted the Saturday before Ashley’s birthday. “How about this day? I see you have something at 9:00 am but maybe we can do the afternoon?”

”Perfect,” said Joel. “How’s 2 o’clock? Gives us time to clean up after the morning event and then you don’t have to provide lunch, just cake and ice cream.” He smiled and you smiled back. Cake and ice cream were included in the price of the package, but lunches and snacks were not. You’d save a bit that way.

”Sounds like a deal,” you said. “Do we need to sign a contract or anything?”

”Give me a day or two to write it up and you can come back to sign it, if that’s not too much trouble?” He fixed his chocolate brown eyes on you and for a moment you couldn’t even breath, let alone form a coherent thought.

”Um, yeah, that’d be great,” you managed to say after an awkward moment. “You can call me when it’s ready and I’ll come out as soon as I can.” You scribbled your cell phone number on the margin of the planner, along with your name.

”Much obliged,” Joel said. “Pony Princess party, 2 o’clock on Saturday the 15th.”

”And when you come back to sign the paperwork, you can meet all the ponies,” Sarah said. “You can pick out which one your niece gets to ride.” She glanced slyly at Joel. “Maybe Dad can take you out on one of the horses, if you have the right shoes.” She looked down at your tennis shoes and shook her head. Like Joel, she had on well worn cowboy boots, the working kind, not the fashionable kind.

”I might have some boots that would work,” you said. “But I haven’t been on a horse in years. Maybe we’d better leave that to the kids.”

Joel looked you up and down, which made your face heat up. “You’d look good on a horse,” he said. “I think maybe Guapo?”

Sarah nodded firmly. “Oh, yeah, Guapo would be perfect for you. He’s a real softie, good with beginners but not one of those dead to the world type they give you at rental stables.” 

“We’ll see,” you said. “I’d — I’d better be going. I have some errands to run before I head home and I’m sure you’re both busy. I’ll see you in a few days.”

”I’ll call you when I have the contract ready,” Joel said, nodding his head. If he’d been wearing a hat, he would have tipped it. “Nice to meet you.”

As you walked back toward your car, you heard Sarah giggling and Joel shushing her sternly. The kid was a pretty good wingwoman. You wondered how much a pair of real riding boots cost.

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

Joel called you two days later and you arranged to come by that Thursday to sign the contract and finalize the details. You rarely took time off work, so no one batted an eye when you put in for a half day of personal necessity because of an appointment. You left work and stopped off at home to change into jeans and a pair of low heeled boots. You finished off the outfit with a t-shirt that you’d gotten compliments on before. 

As you turned into the drive at Joel’s place, you saw that the way was blocked by a large blue pickup. Joel was in the bed, tossing flakes of hay over the fence into the pasture. 

“I’ll be done in a few minutes, then I’ll get outta your way,” he called out. He was wearing a dirty grey t-shirt with a couple of holes in it and his jeans were covered with dust, but he looked amazing. You didn’t mind waiting with a view like that.

”No worries,” you called back. “Do you need any help?”

”Ah, no darlin’, I’ve got this. Been bucking hay for quite a few years now.” He paused and wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his arm. “Louis’ dad, my uncle, used to have a full on cattle ranch when we were kids. Spent summers out there helping with the horses until I was thirteen.”

You got out of your car and leaned against the fender. “Must have been a dream come true for a Texas kid.”  

Joel shrugged. “It was just work. Tommy always conveniently disappeared when it was time to muck out stalls, but I covered for him.” He returned to his task, easily breaking a bale of hay into flakes and tossing them expertly over the fence, each one landing a few feet from the previous one. The horses and ponies each claimed a flake of their own, except for a few squabbles involving the tiniest pony, a chestnut with a broad white blaze on its face.

”Stop it, you little shit,” Joel yelled, shaking his head. “That li’l Sebastian is the worst. He’s actually a miniature horse, not a pony, so he can’t be ridden and he knows it. Spoiled rotten. But he’s gentle with the little kids and the ones who can’t ride or are too afraid. Gets petted and fed carrots and never does a lick of work.”

Sebastian lifted his nose and pranced toward a tall white horse. He snorted and swished his tail and the big horse reluctantly yielded its hay to the little guy. “See?” Joel said. “Guapo, just step on him.” 

The white horse sighed deeply and shook his head. Joel tossed a flake in his direction and it landed neatly in front of him. Then Joel hopped down from the truck bed. “I’ll get this ol’ beast out of the way and you can drive up to the parking area. I’ve just got to run up to the house for the paperwork, wash my hands, and I’ll be right back.”

You tried not to notice his backside as he stepped into the cab of the truck, but it was right there in front of you. He filled out a pair of jeans nicely.

You parked in the visitor lot, while Joel parked his truck off to the side. “Go on through the barn and sit at one of the tables,” he called out. “I’ll be there in a minute.” He walked quickly toward the neatly painted white ranch style house that stood behind the pasture, his gait a bit stiff. He’d mentioned hurting his back at work before starting the party business. It looked like it still bothered him. 

You sat at one of the picnic tables. It was pleasant under the patio roof, which blocked the sun but allowed a nice breeze. Whoever had designed this place knew what he was doing.

Joel hurried back with a sheaf of papers in his hand. His hands were clean but the rest of him was still dusty. There were bits of hay stuck to his shirt and in his hair. “Okay,” he said, settling down next to you. “Let’s go over the details and then get this contract signed.” 

It was hard to concentrate on the paperwork with him sitting beside you. He smelled like hay and sweat and horses and something else, maybe aftershave or deodorant that had a hint of something woodsy. Whatever it was, the entire cocktail of scents was enticing.

”So, the standard party comes with a sheet cake from Kroger and vanilla ice cream. The cake will say Happy Birthday and your niece’s name. You get to pick what color icing for the words and the border. And we put a plastic unicorn on top that she gets to keep.”

”Um, purple, she’s into purple right now.”

Joel nodded and wrote “purple” into a blank on the sheet in front of him. His handwriting was neat and precise.

”Okay, and the piñata will be a dragon, unless you want something else. No extra charge, all the piñatas are the same price.”

”Dragon is fine,” you said, distracted by a piece of hay that was lodged in the curls just above his temple. You fought the urge to reach out and remove it.

”You okay?” Joel asked. 

“Um, yeah, you just … you have some hay …” You gestured toward his head and he brushed his hand through his hair.

”Occupational hazard,” he said with a gentle laugh. “Did I get it?”

”Not quite. Do you mind …?”

He leaned toward you and you plucked the hay stem from his hair, which was silky soft. You wanted to run your fingers through it so badly, but you contented yourself with removing the hay. “There, now you look presentable,” you said.

”Thanks,” he said softly. There was a pause, charged with something that certainly wasn’t business related. He cleared his throat. “Okay, so we have games.”

You half listened as Joel went over the games and activities that would be provided. You just nodded and agreed to all the standard choices. Ashley would just be thrilled to be around ponies and dress up with her friends. And if you weren’t talking, that meant you got to listen to Joel’s voice even more.

You reached the end of the paperwork and Joel handed you the pen to sign the contract. It was still warm from his hand and you shook just a little as you wrote your signature on the dotted line.

”All done,” Joel said. His eyes swept up and down your body. “So, you ready for that ride?”

Your tongue wouldn’t move. Had he really just suggested …? 

“I mean, you wore jeans and boots, so I figured you were planning to take me up on Sarah’s offer.”

”Oh, yeah,” you said, shaking your head as the blood rushed to your face. “Sorry, I was just … yeah, a horseback ride would be wonderful.”

Joel swept the paperwork up. “Back in two jiffs,” he said. “I’ll just put this in the office and then we’ll get the horses ready.”

He ducked into a small room in the barn, then handed you a lead rope. You followed him to the pasture, where the horses were still nibbling at their hay. Joel opened the gate and walked inside, catching first the white horse, Guapo, and then a big strong looking bay horse. He took the lead rope from you and clipped it onto Guapo’s halter.

”He’s a sweetheart,” he said. “Just walk and he’ll go with you. Take him into the breezeway in the barn.”  

You were nervous. You’d never handled a horse before, but Guapo was just as gentle as Joel promised. He walked alongside you, his head bobbing with the rhythm of his hooves, which clip-clopped against the hard packed dirt and the concrete of the barn floor.

Joel soon followed with the bay horse. You watched as he tied both horses to rings set in the wall and gave them a quick brushing. Then he brought out the saddles, which he handled as if they weighed nothing. It was fascinating to watch him tack up the horses, moving gently but quickly as he got them ready for the ride. Soon they were both saddled and bridled and you started to feel nervous again.

Joel showed you how to lead Guapo by the cheek piece of his bridle. “Just walk him over to the mounting block,” he said. “He knows the drill.”

Sure enough, the white horse stood next to the set of wooden steps so that they were perfectly aligned with his saddle. Joel smiled at you as he took the reins just under Guapo’s chin. “You okay to get on by yourself?”

”I think so,” you said. “It’s been years since I rode a horse.”

”Just remember, left foot in the stirrup, then hop up and swing the right leg over.” You felt incredibly exposed as you fumbled your way into the saddle. If you hadn’t felt Joel’s eyes on you the whole time, it would have been easier.

Once you were in the saddle, Joel led Guapo forward a few steps and then took your ankle in his hand. “Slip your foot out,” he said quietly. “I need to adjust the stirrups.” He pushed your leg forward so that your foot was on Guapo’s shoulder, then tugged at the leather straps. When he was done, he grabbed your foot and put it back into the stirrup. His hands were big and strong. He nodded and then went around the other side to adjust the right stirrup. Being man-handled, even so gently, was making you very aware of your body. You shifted in the saddle, glad your jeans were thick enough to hide the dampness that was spreading through your panties.

Once Joel was satisfied that your stirrups were good, he fetched the bay horse from the barn and swung into the saddle with a grunt that made your insides clench. “I’m supposed to use the mounting block,” he said, “‘cause of my back, but just don’t tell Sarah, okay?”

You nodded. “Okay, remember, hold the reins in your left hand, just above the saddle horn. Keep your fist up, like you're gonna do a thumbs up. Steer him like using a joystick on one of those old Atari games. Move your hand to the right to go right, left to go left, back toward your belly to stop or slow down. And sit back in the saddle when you ask him to stop. All right, let’s go.”

He tapped his heels against the bay horse’s sides and they walked off. Guapo followed behind after you gave him a gentle tap. It was a different world from up on a horse’s back. You could feel Guapo’s muscles moving beneath the saddle, hear his breathing and snorts as the other horse kicked up dust in his face, and the creaking of the saddle leather. 

“Wow, this is so cool,” you said. 

“This is nothing,” Joel said over his shoulder. “This is just a pony ride. You get good enough, there’s a place down by the river where the sand is level and smooth and you can gallop. Talk about a real cowgirl experience. Ah, shit, that didn’t sound right, I’m sorry.”

You laughed. “I know what you meant. And either way, it sounds amazing.” You felt the blood rush to your face again as the words popped out of your mouth. You hadn’t meant to flirt so hard. This was technically still a business transaction, after all.

Joel laughed heartily. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?” His eyes skimmed over your body once again. “You look good on a horse. Not everyone does.”

”Thanks,” you said. “So do you.”

The trail widened out and Joel pulled his horse back so that you were riding side by side. “You know, Sarah would kill me if I didn’t take the opportunity to ask you out. After the party, of course.”

”Of course,” you said. “And she’d probably kill me if I didn’t say yes. I mean, how often does someone literally bring you a white horse?”

”Gray,” Joel said. “Guapo’s not white, he’s gray.” He shook his head. “Shit, sorry, I’m used to teaching the kids about how white horses are really rare and most of the ones you see that look white are really grays … and I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

”Yeah, but it’s adorable,” you said. “Makes me feel a little less awkward myself.”

You rode in silence for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”

”Sure,” Joel said.

”Why’s he named Guapo? I mean he’s not ugly or anything but he’s certainly not Trigger or the Black Stallion, is he?”

Joel smiled. “Louis went to the horse auction to get some ponies. Saw this fellow in the pen and he looked like hell. Skinny, had a skin rash, just messed up. Knew he’d end up with the kill buyers, so he bought him. Everyone teased him about buying an ugly horse, but his assistant, Reynaldo, stood up for him. He said ‘Don’t let them laugh at you, you’re muy guapo, my friend.’ And it turns out, after they got him cleaned up and fed and everything, they checked his lip tattoo and he’s a Thoroughbred. Ran thirty races in his career and won three. Even was in a stakes over at Sam Houston when he was three. Finished up the track, but at least he had a shot at glory.”

”Wow, you were a racehorse?” You leaned forward to pat Guapo’s neck. He flicked an ear back at you. “He’s so gentle.”

”Smart horses, Thoroughbreds,” Joel said. “King here, he’s half quarter horse, half Andalusian. Talk about smart.” He patted the bay horse on the neck. “But he needs an experienced rider. Guapo knows how to take care of a beginner. King would just take advantage of them.”

You chatted back and forth as the horses walked down the trail. Joel was relaxed, sitting his horse easily, his eyes crinkled against the sun. You could have looked at him all day. And the way his hips moved with the rhythm of King’s stride … 

Eventually, Joel glanced at his watch. “Better head back,” he said with a sigh. “Sarah will be getting home from school any minute and if she has to do more than her fair share of the barn chores I’ll get an earful.” 

He turned King around and headed back up the trail. Guapo followed suit and before you knew it, both horses were trotting, eager to get home. Joel hardly moved in his saddle, but you were jolting all over the place.

”Ouch! How do you stay sitting down when they do this?”

Joel laughed mischievously. “Well, it helps that King’s got that smooth Quarter Horse jog,” he said. “Guapo was taught two speeds: walk and run. Off track Thoroughbreds have a real rough trot. Probably should have warned you.” He reined King back to a walk and Guapo dropped back into a less bone-jolting gait as well. 

“Thought I was going to fall off for a second there,” you said. 

“You were bouncing around quite a bit,” Joel admitted, although from the look on his face, he hadn’t minded watching you jiggle. 

“You did that on purpose,” you realized. 

“Had to give you the full cowgirl experience,” he said with a wink. You had reached the narrow beginning of the trail again, and he pulled King in front of Guapo, so you only had a view of his back, but you were certain he was smirking. You didn’t mind too much, though; the view was worth any amount of teasing you had to endure. Joel Miller had a mighty fine seat.

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

Sarah was leaning smugly against the side of the barn when you rode up. “Trying to stick me with all the chores while you’re off having fun, huh, Dad?”

”If I recall, it was your idea I take her out for a ride,” he said, swinging easily off King’s back. Sarah took the reins and led the bay toward the barn. Joel came and stood next to Guapo’s shoulder. 

”You need any help getting down?”

”I think I can manage,” you said. You weren’t as graceful as he was, though, and stumbled a bit as your left foot caught in the stirrup on the way down. Joel’s hands were there to steady you.

”Kick both feet clear before you get off next time, then you won’t have that problem,” he said gently. “But otherwise, I’d give it a seven.” His hands were warm against your arms.

”Ah, geez, Mr. M, there’s kids here.”

Joel rolled his eyes. “Ellie, what the hell are you doing here?”

You both turned to see another girl leaning against the barn. She was around Sarah’s age, her brown hair pulled back in an untidy pony tail and a defiant smirk on her face.

”Sarah invited me,” she said. “Said you were making chili for dinner and you know they don’t feed me at that place.”

”That is one hundred percent grade A bullshit,” Joel said. “I know for a fact that Mrs. Morales is a great cook. She brings stuff to the PTA meetings all the time and we all fight over it.”

Ellie shrugged. “Exactly. All us kids have to fight over it, too. At least around here there’s only two other people I have to compete with.” Her eyes narrowed at you. “Maybe three, huh?”

”She’s not staying for dinner,” Joel said. “Unless you want to …?”

”Thank you, but I should probably get going. I left work early today and there’s some stuff I need to take care of before I go in tomorrow.” If it had just been him and Sarah, you would have said yes in a heartbeat. 

Sarah came back out of the barn and took Guapo’s reins. “Way to just stand there, Ellie,” she said. “You could have helped.”

”I thought I was a guest,” Ellie whined, as she followed Sarah and Guapo into the barn.

”It’s still polite to offer help,” Sarah said.

”Sorry, I wasn’t raised in a barn like some people,” Ellie replied.

Joel shook his head. “Those two. Ellie’s in foster care. Nice family but poor kid’s been bounced around so much she keeps a wall up. She likes Sarah, though. And she’d never admit it, but she loves the ponies. Caught her braiding flowers into Sebastian’s mane one day.”

He walked you back to your car. “So, I guess I’ll see you on the day of the party.” He shuffled his boots in the gravel. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” you replied. “Um, thanks again for the ride. I had a lot of fun. Although my backside might have another opinion by the time I get home.” You rubbed at the seat of your jeans.

”You and your backside are welcome any time,” he said. “And I meant it about that date after the party. We’ll go somewhere nice, I promise. You won’t have to wear jeans.”

”Anywhere is fine if it’s with you,” you said without thinking. “I mean … I’m not fussy. I don’t expect a first date to be …”

Joel ducked his head and smiled. “I hear ya,” he said. “I just want it to be special because I think you’re pretty special. I mean, doing all this for your niece … you’re a good aunt.”

”Just kiss her already,” Ellie yelled from the barn. “There’s barn chores to do, Mr. M!”

Joel shook his head. “I swear, if that kid hadn’t already had such a rough life …” He leaned forward and kissed you on the cheek. “That’s an IOU for a real kiss. Once you’re no longer a customer.”

”I expect full payment on that,” you said. “I’ll see you at the party.”

You got into your car and pulled out. Joel stood watching you drive away and you got butterflies in your stomach. Maybe this whole party thing was turning out to be more of a present for yourself than for Ashley.

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

The morning of the party was pure chaos. Ashley couldn’t decide which princess dress to wear, the baby was fussy, your brother-in-law had a cold and was sneezing his head off, and your sister was about ready to break down in tears.

”I’ve got this,” you said as soon as you arrived at their house. “Ashley, why don’t you wear the purple dress? It’ll match your cake. And you can wear your jeans underneath so it’ll be more comfortable riding the ponies.” You took Jacob and started to bounce him up and down. “Sis, go get yourself ready.” You turned to your brother-in-law. “And you, go take a dose of DayQuil and then sit down and rest.”

Eventually, everyone was in the minivan and ready to go. You volunteered to drive, since you knew the way. Your sister sat in the passenger seat beside you.

”Thank you again for planning all this,” she said. “I know it was a lot of work, but Ashley is so excited to ride the ponies.”

”Well, it wasn’t all that hard,” you admitted. “Joel’s got a really nice set up and he took care of all the details. All I have to do is show up and pay the bill.”

”You like him, don’t you? I can tell by the way your face lights up when you talk about him. And you’ve been talking about him an awful lot for someone you’re doing business with.” She winked.

”I do like him,” you said. “We’re going to go out soon. After the party is over, when I’m not a client anymore.”

”Good for you. You deserve it.”

You were the first car to arrive, which made you sigh with relief. Sarah waved at you from the barn. “Welcome! Is this the birthday girl?”

”It is,” you said, leading Ashley over while your sister and brother-in-law got Jacob out of his car seat. “Ashley, this is Sarah. Her daddy owns this place.”

”Lady Sarah Miller at your service, Your Majesty,” Sarah said with a curtsy. “You’re the princess today, so let’s get your crown!” 

She led you through the barn and both you and Ashley gasped when you saw the party area. There were pink and purple streamers and balloons hanging from the roof and every table had a runner of white butcher paper and several small buckets of crayons. A big gold painted armchair sat at the end of the table closest to the gift table. It was draped with purple cloth and a glittery plastic crown sat on a purple cushion.

”This is your throne,” Sarah said. “Because it’s your special day and you’re the princess, you get to sit in the best seat in the house.” She helped Ashley put on the crown and secure it to her hair with bobby pins. 

“And now, before your guests arrive, let’s meet your unicorn!”

Joel appeared, leading a white pony with a golden horn attached to its forehead. Its mane had been dyed all the colors of the rainbow. “This is Alabaster,” he said gently, crouching down to Ashley’s level. “She’s a very special unicorn and she only comes to visit the farm on days when there’s a princess here. So we’re lucky you came.”

Ashley fell in love with Alabaster and immediately started petting her. Sarah showed her how to offer carrots on a flat palm so that Alabaster couldn’t accidentally nip her. “Unicorns love carrots,” Sarah said. “They’re like candy to them, so sometimes they get a little bit greedy, just like we do. So we have to be careful they don’t hurt us with their magical teeth.”

You turned to Joel. “This is beautiful,” you said. “She’s going to remember this day for the rest of her life. Thank you.”

”Just doin’ my job,” Joel said. “Although we did throw in a few extra touches special for Ashley. And there’s one more surprise just for you.” He gestured for you to follow him. Around the side of the barn stood Guapo, his mane braided with flowers and a silvery unicorn horn parting his forelock. “Sarah and Ellie thought you might enjoy a unicorn of your own. Ellie did the mane, believe it or not.”

“Oh, Joel, he’s … he’s beautiful.” You stroked Guapo’s face. The gelding looked a bit embarrassed to be all gussied up, but he leaned into your hand. “But you know a real unicorn can only be tamed by a maiden fair. And it’s been a long time since I was a maiden, if you know what I mean.”

Joel grinned. “Well, Guapo’s a special kind of unicorn. He doesn’t care about all that. He just looks for a woman who’s pure of heart, the kind of woman who would go to great lengths to give her niece a special birthday.”  He laid his hand on Guapo’s face, his fingers just brushing against yours. “And as his human sponsor, I for one have no use for fair maidens.” His voice lowered. “I like my ladies a bit more experienced.”

”Oh, I know how to ride,” you said. “Guapo can tell you that.”

“Well, there’s a difference between what Guapo and I expect on a ride,” he said. “But we can talk about that later. Right now, we’ve got a pony party to put on!”

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

”Damn, girl, you weren’t kidding when you said you knew how to ride,” Joel said, his hands digging into your hips. You were straddling him, his cock buried deep within you, chasing your second orgasm of the night. 

“Helps if you have a good mount,” you said. “One who’s well trained, knows what he’s doing, and listens to your cues.” You worked your hips against him, inching ever closer to a climax.

Joel bucked under you. “Helps the mount if the rider is good,” he panted. “Gotta work as a team.”

You’d had dinner at a local Italian restaurant and then had gone back to his place. Sarah was spending the night with a friend, so you had the whole house to yourselves. 

Your body stiffened as you tipped over the edge, and Joel soon followed you, giving one final thrust as he spent himself inside you. “Hot damn,” he said, as you slid off of him, careful not to disturb the condom. “I don’t normally do this on a first date, you know.”

You flopped down beside him. “Neither do I,” you said. “But with Sarah out of the house it was too good an opportunity to pass up, don’t you think?”

He disposed of the condom and brought a washcloth from the bathroom. After you had cleaned yourselves up, he gently held your chin. “I like you,” he said seriously. “Sarah likes you. The horses like you. I think … maybe we can make this work.”

”So do I,” you said. “I want to try, as least.”

”Guapo’s a good judge of character,” he said.

”Unicorns usually are.”

[gffa]

Sometimes I get defensive about those house decor posts I see going around where people say that the neutral colors/black & white sleek look is "soulless" and they want to bite, kill, rend, and destroy for getting rid of the color in their homes. Setting aside that people should be allowed to do whatever they want in their own homes, let me tell you what "color" means to me: Everything in my life was a different color. Every room had every color crammed into it. Which sounds like, oh, that must have been a pretty rainbow effect! It wasn't, none of these colors were meant to go together, it's a hot pink plastic shoebox set on top of a dark brown folding table holding three wildly different shades of brown hand towels, some cornflower blue notebooks, and orange pens. It's burnt orange shag carpeting in the living room and hallway, with slate blue chairs, and a white tv tray loaded up with bright yellow pill and cornflower blue bottles and pale wood bookshelf next to dark brown folding table next to pine-colored dresser next to medium dark wood nightstand, all of those that fake material with the sticker made to look like wood, not actual wood. It's lime green countertops and dark beige flooring with one faded yellow wall, one off-white wall, and one faded mint green wall. It's a pine wood mimicking kitchen table with gold trim that's a sticker not actual wood, combined with one black rolling chair, one maroon and oak chair (not actual wood), and one gray upholstered chair. It's a robin's egg blue frayed blanket tossed over the red-and-black walker in the corner, which is also loaded up with the dark green and dark blue exercise bands. It's white and beige pieces of paper plopped everywhere. And all of these colors are faded so they're not really even pretty on their own, it's just a mishmash everywhere. All of this together in one house and that's just a fraction of it, it's a constant clashing of colors and, if there was a foot of space against the wall available, it had another dresser, nightstand, or bookshelf shoved into it. I look at some of these colorful homes that people love and I think they're beautiful and I get so much joy out of people in their homes loving their surroundings! But I will never be able to live in that kind of color for myself again without being heartsore about it. I've gone for a neutral palette now that I'm making the design decisions, I'm choosing white walls (admittedly with a little bit of a blue undertone that you only notice when it's picking up other things' colors), black trim, and gray/white/black/brown reclaimed wood flooring. I picked out a gray/white/black comforter to throw over the bed with a black headboard and black + gray pillows. I'm getting some subtle green accents to put in the room, the guest room has been going with a pale yellow theme (to accent the black/white/gray/grown colors), I'm not eschewing color all together, but those bright, overwhelming colors are not what makes my soul sing. Neutral colors are not a soulless choice on my part, it's the first time in my life that I feel like it's finally clean, that I can breathe properly. You could scrub down a room with seafoam and forest green colors and have it so clean you could lick the walls and I would still have to go outside and take a moment to gather myself together if I had to live in it, because for me "color" means messy and I've had an entire lifetime of mess. I love when people put bright orange or bright green on their walls, that rocks and I will come over and genuinely tell you how beautiful it is, because I understand that it makes your soul sing. But understand that, in turn, having sleek, subtle colors makes my soul sing in a way that's just as genuine.

[lemonhemlock]

strange that people had the thought that sansa was gonna stay in the vale and not go back to winterfell for so long when geographically other than bran(beyond the wall having trippy visions)/jon("dead")/rickon (cannibal island skagos) sansa is way closer to winterfell than a lot of characters and the knights of the vale is pretty much a chekhov's gun especially since like you said they havent joined the war yet and somehow sansa marching to winter fell with them was unbelievable since like 2009-2018 (her story might not follow the show especially because of the diverged storylines and she has the alternative to escape the vale but who knows)

It's no secret that Sansa was a very hated character throughout GoT's run. People ~manifesting she would stay in the Vale was a way of wishful-thinking her out of the narrative. Their dislike made them ignore reason and come up with many silly theories.

Much has been said about Sansa's pawn-to-queen narrative, but the main argument for her surviving the series is that, if GRRM wanted to kill her, he had many, many opportunities to do so in five books and didn't. Sansa is physically and socially vulnerable & her POV focuses on her rich internal world, strength and endurance, yet she remains unscathed and is instead learning court politics. Why is that? It's basic bildungsroman storytelling. Denying that is just being petty at this point.

Sansa also cannot remain in the Vale as Alayne, since that is Littlefinger's plot. Only the most delulu stans will not accept that a shady person such as Littlefinger will face authorial punishment for his sins. And, when he does die, what's stopping Sansa from claiming her identity? Especially as she finds out the feared and detested Ramsay Bolton has married "Arya Stark". She will naturally want to help her sister.

Now, I need to re-read for this, but I believe it is hinted in AFFC that Myranda Royce slyly figured out who Sansa is. If you remember the prologue of AGOT, the fancy, pretentious Night's Watch ranger from the group of three that first encounter the white walkers, is Waymar Royce. He is the third son of Bronze Yohn, head of House Royce. I did a quick search to refresh my memory:

"Bronze Yohn knows me," she reminded him. "He was a guest at Winterfell when his son rode north to take the black." She had fallen wildly in love with Ser Waymar, she remembered dimly, but that was a lifetime ago, when she was a stupid little girl. "And that was not the only time. Lord Royce saw . . . he saw Sansa Stark again at King's Landing, during the Hand's tourney." Petyr put a finger under her chin. "That Royce glimpsed this pretty face I do not doubt, but it was one face in a thousand. A man fighting in a tourney has more to concern him than some child in the crowd. And at Winterfell, Sansa was a little girl with auburn hair. My daughter is a maiden tall and fair, and her hair is chestnut. Men see what they expect to see, Alayne." He kissed her nose. "Have Maddy lay a fire in the solar. I shall receive our Lords Declarant there."

(AFFC, Alayne I)

I mean... you can't be more explicit than that. The Royces know who Sansa is, but they'll just keep quiet and play out this charade?

[kwebtv]

TV Guide -  May 30 - June 5, 1964

Ernest Borgnine (/ˈbɔːrɡnaɪn/; born Ermes Effron Borgnino; January 24, 1917 – July 8, 2012)  Film, stage and television actor whose career spanned over six decades. He was noted for his gruff but relaxed voice and gap-toothed Cheshire Cat grin. A popular performer, he also appeared as a guest on numerous talk shows and as a panelist on several game shows.

Borgnine made his TV debut as a character actor in Captain Video and His Video Rangers, beginning in 1951. These two episodes led to countless other television roles that Borgnine would gain in Goodyear Television Playhouse, The Ford Television Theatre, Fireside Theatre, Frontier Justice, Laramie, Bob Hope Presents the Chrysler Theatre, Run for Your Life, Little House on the Prairie (a two-part episode entitled "The Lord is My Shepherd"), The Love Boat, Magnum, P.I., Highway to Heaven, Murder, She Wrote, Walker, Texas Ranger, Home Improvement, Touched by an Angel, the final episodes of ER, the first episode of Wagon Train, and many others.

In 1962, Borgnine signed a contract with Universal Studios for the lead role as the gruff but lovable skipper, Quinton McHale, in what began as a serious one-hour 1962 episode called "Seven Against the Sea" for Alcoa Premiere, and later reworked to a comedy called McHale's Navy, a World War II sitcom, which also co-starred unfamiliar comedians Joe Flynn as Capt. Wally Binghamton and Tim Conway as Ens. Charles Parker. The insubordinate crew of PT-73 helped the show become an overnight success during its first season, landing in the top 30 in 1963. (Wikipedia)

Thomas Daniel "Tim" Conway (December 15, 1933 – May 14, 2019) Film and television actor, comedian, writer, and director. From 1966 to 2012 he appeared in more than 100 TV shows, TV series and films. Among his more notable roles, he portrayed the inept Ensign Parker in the 1960s World War II TV situation comedy McHale's Navy, was a regular cast member (1975–1978) on the TV comedy The Carol Burnett Show where he portrayed his recurrent iconic characters Mister Tudball, the Oldest Man and the Dumb Private, co-starred with Don Knotts in several films (1975–80), was the title character in the Dorf series of eight sports comedy direct-to-video films (1987–1996), and provided the voice of Barnacle Boy in the animated series SpongeBob SquarePants (1999–2012). Twice, in 1970 and in 1980–1981, he had his own TV series.  (Wikipedia)

Joseph Anthony Flynn III (November 8, 1924 – July 19, 1974) Film and television character actor. He was best known for his role as Captain Wallace Binghamton in the 1960s ABC television situation comedy McHale's Navy. He was also a frequent guest star on 1960s TV shows, such as Batman, and appeared in several Walt Disney film comedies. (Wikipedia)

[zombiewhor3]

WAKE UP

rick grimes x fem reader (carl grimes featured)

WARNINGS: mentions of walkers, implications of character death, mentions of character almost dying, angst, (no actual character death), mentions of Shane, fem reader.

-

she watched him limp as the boy ahead of them seemed to ignore as his father called out for him to slow down. y/n held her and Rick's bag on her back and shoulder so he wouldn't limp as much.

Once they reached the door of the house y/n had knocked harshly with her fist maybe to see if there were any walkers inside or near around the house they stood at.

she could see some of the paint chipping on the door and she was almost startled at the sound of a walker planting it's hand against the glass of the window pressing its face against it.

"stay here Carl, i'll clear it" he had given an order and they both knew it was what he wanted, they knew that he believed he was strong enough to do this on his own and maybe he was but not now.

not with the limp in his leg from being shot and not with the dehydration and the hunger that spread inside him.

"we can't let you do it alone, you can barely stand on your own Rick" she spoke up against him seeing as his son nodded in an agreement, slipping out his own gun from his holster.

she could see the furrow in his brows as he took it as maybe a sign of them calling him weak, he rubbed over some of the stubble from his beard and looked at the two in front of him.

"we'll help you clear it, it's nothing new just like the prison" Carl spoke watching his father hesitantly take in a sharp deep breath looking over at his girlfriend who he could tell was about to speak.

"let me do it myself" he spoke abruptly, he could feel a hand rubbing on his shoulder and he had finally made up his mind looking at the two of them so eager to help him, to help their group.

The door squeaked open with a crack and just enough y/n was able to place a knife in the walker's fleshy skull hearing it thud and drop to the ground with a sudden plop.

they could hear more rasping coming from up the stairs and Rick had placed a firm hand on Carl's chest looking over as y/n gripped onto her knife and tried her best to be quiet on the stairs.

she could hear the rasping and growling coming from behind a door, scratching and clawing to get out the walker was desperate, so desperate just for its next meal.

she used her foot to barge open the door and she could see it was a women, not to old but dressed in a night gown. Without even a struggle she easy had killed the walker and took a deep breath in.

she opened each of the other doors with a pre-caution making sure that there had been anymore that were lurking around inside the house. And once it was all clear and walker free she made her way down the stair case and tossed her bag onto the kitchen table.

she watched and heard as cabinets were torn apart and searched for any trace of food or water they could get, Carl smiled as he held up a box of Cereal taking a glance at his father and y/n.

"kitchen wasn't empty" he spoke shoving it into his bag along with a can of creamed corn that was dented slightly, he made his way up into the house admiring the windows and all the rooms inside.

He had ventured his way around the house amazed but the sights it had given to him, yet he could feel his fathers eyes burning into him with each and every move he made. when he tried opening a door to a guest bathroom his hand was grabbed.

"don't there could be walkers in there" Rick huffed feeling his son harshly pull away his hand from his grasp, he huffed and took a look at his father before banging his fist against the wall.

y/n sat in the living room, her feet propped up on the coffee table while she had been eating a can of whatever the hell she had managed to scavange from the cabinets of the kitchen.

she was startled by the noise of loud banging and the sound of Carl yelling, "Hey asshole! Hey shit face!"

he yelled making y/n rapidly put down the can on the coffee table and she made her way up the stair case and into the guest bedroom.

"Watch your mouth!" She heard Rick lecture at his son and she was like a deer in headlights frozen at the glimpse of them staring at her.

Carl had opened the door to show there was nothing inside, and instead of even a word slipping from his father's mouth he made his way from the bedroom and back into the living room.

-

the couch was slammed against the door and Carl looked at his father un amused by the situation, "it's fine i tied the door shut" Carl remarked hearing Rick reply dully,

"we don't need to take any chances besides this is fine for tonight it'll have to do anyways because we have no other choice"

"what you don't think it'll hold? it's a clove hitch. Shane taught me it. Do you remember him?" Carl could feel the bitter question slip right off his tongue and he wasn't even sure if he felt sorry about it.

y/n swallowed harshly and looked down at the floor, "carl" she managed to croak out to him knowing that his words were eating up his own father inside.

"i remember him , i think about him everyday god damn day. Now anything else you want to say to me son?" Rick pressed the couch against the door one more time before he untied and slipped off his boots setting them beside the couch.

y/n did the same and pulled off her flannel leaving her in a tank top, she watched Rick lay back on the couch and she snuggled up to him, her head on his chest while he stroked her hair.

she watched as Carl made his way up the stairs, his boots clomping against the wood so loud like it was intentional just to piss his father off, just to get his father going.

"what am i going to do?" he asked poking his tongue into the side of his inner cheek, he could hear the woman on her chest take a deep breath in as she adjusted herself so that she could look at him.

"he's a teenager and he's worried Rick. maybe he's scared and doesn't want to show it." she presumed all of what she said to be honest, she could understand how Carl was feeling.

the feeling of losing their home and losing people that they cared about, she understood the toll that it seemed to have on him.

"you are a good dad, one of the best fathers in the world" she spoke the truth even if he felt that it was a pity set of words only used to make him feel better and to chase away his feelings.

he smiled at her looking to see her head resting back against his chest, he closed his eyes and seemed to wrap his arms around her even tighter than he ever had.

-

she looked around to see she was still laying on Rick's chest, his arms had slipped to the side and one of his hands dangled from off of the couch. She gently slipped away trying not to disturb his peace after all this was the first he had slept in days.

she made her way into the kitchen seeing as Carl stood holding a can of opened chocolate pudding, "where the hell did you find that?" she chuckled placing a seat at the table.

"in another house down the street" he replied as he filled a spoonful of the dessert in his mouth and shrugged his shoulders at her, he watched her smile drop and her brows furrow softly.

"i'm sorry another house? but we didn't go to another house Carl" her tone became sharper and her voice more forceful, still in a whisper not to wake the man who was sleeping.

"i did, i snuck out from the window when you guys were still asleep and i went scavenging for supplies, and look at me i'm still okay. i don't need him" he remarked at her and she shook her head at him.

"do you know how dangerous that is?! Carl what if you weren't okay? What if you got bit? or what if someone else was out there?"

she was angry but more worried for his safety than anything, she had practically jumped up from the table to eye him for maybe any visible bruises or bites or scratches that he could've gotten.

"but i didn't! I didn't get bit or hurt! i can do things on my own, i don't need you and my father babying me all the time" he raised his voice at her and she pressed her hands against the table leaning against it while she took in a deep breath.

" we're not babying you, its to keep you safe because out there it's dangerous and you know that. You've seen how dangerous it is. you can't make stupid decisions not after everything that's happened"

she almost had tears in her eyes just thinking of losing him after Rick had felt the guilt of losing Judith during the war at the prison, he had practically been eating himself up inside as he tried to swallow the guilt that was overwhelming him.

Carl hadn't said anything but instead he gave a soft nod at the woman who had patted him on the shoulder before she stepped back into the living room to check on the still asleep man.

he had been asleep and it seemed as if he wasn't even bothered by the loud commotion Carl and y/n had caused in the kitchen the two of them caused over the disagreement.

she checked her watch and seeing as it was around 1 o'clock it would be the perfect time to get on the road because they couldn't stay here anymore, they couldn't stay in this place because it wasn't safe.

there was no supplies, no way to signal for walkers and they were alone with just the three of them and both of the boys were out of bullets in their guns.

she shook his shoulder softly and whispered his name, with not even a gesture or response she shook him again this time harder and she watched his body shake a little waiting for at least maybe a groan or a flicker of his eyes opening but there was nothing.

she figured he was playing a joke on her, that he was going to eventually crack a smile at her as if he was trying to fake the idea of sleeping just to get her to crawl back with him

"it's not funny Rick seriously now get up we have to go" she pushed him harder and she could feel her heart sink when she realized that maybe he wasn't actually playing some dumb prank on her.

she started to shake him even harder and quite faster now, "Rick please, wake up" she pleaded at him and his eyes still were closed his body still limp and she could hear him lightly breathing.

"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" she yelled as she had taken a cushion from the couch and roughly hit him with it, still he remained with his silent breathing and not even an expression.

Carl had stepped into the living room his hand on the knife as he had a visble confusion on his face as to why y/n was yelling at him,

he was also confused by the fact that his father hadn't been waking up by her multiple attempts of her shaking him and hitting him with the pillow, he watched her swallow harshly as she took a look at him.

she had tears streaming down her face and a lump in her throat that was impossible to try to swallow back once more, she held onto his hand using two of her fingers to feel that he still had a pulse.

she wondered if the damage from getting the shit beat out of him by the governor had an impact. she wondered if he was in a coma, or if he was dying or maybe he was just brain dead.

she could see Carl and the tears he had in the orbs of his eyes, he tried to force his father to wake with his own attempt of a yell and a shove but it was still nothing other than the slight breathing and rise of his chest that he got back.

y/n dropped his hand and let it dangle from the couch as she pulled away the now crying boy away from Rick, "what's wrong with him?!" he asked rapidly and this time she didn't have an answer

because she truly didn't know what was wrong with him, she didn't have the answer this time and now it was eating her up. It was eating her up because she couldn't seem to calm Carl.

she couldn't seem to settle the boy with the pity of 'everything was going to be okay' because she didn't know, she didn't know whether Rick was going to wake up or if he was going to turn into one of those flesh eating monsters that were out there.

they were both crying and Carl seemed to plead a sorry, he hadn't really meant that he didn't need his dad or the fact that he had practically begged for independence to get away from his father.

it was like a curse from the universe that had seemed to twist his words into something even worse, he didn't want his father to die, he wanted his father to wake up from whatever the hell this was.

"why isn't he waking up?!" his voice cracked and this time y/n didn't have an answer because she was in just as much shock as he was, she was just as upset and confused as the boy in her arms.

she slipped off his hat and placed it onto the floor next to them so she could stroke over the top of his head and try to rock him into a settle state just to calm him down.

"i don't know Carl, i don't know" she replied softly and she could feel him squirm in her arms as he still tried to crawl back to his father but something inside of her couldn't seem to let him go from her arms.

he had softly said her name, a gentle call out for her to just let him go but now she was the one frozen in the state of wanting to give up because without Rick her whole world was gone.

she felt like she was almost about to sink into her own phase of a deep slumber just from her exhaustion and the emotions that had been pouring out of her for all this time, she was tired from the way her lungs kept gasping for air each time she felt like they were closing from panic, and she was tired of losing people.

-

she jumped up at the sound of hearing him groan even if it was small and weak it still made her heart jolt,

his hand moved softly against her back to settle her because he could tell that something had spooked her from her half awake state.

it was him who spooked her into opening her eyes, it was a shabby breath he let out and now it was the movement of his hands that slipped underneath her tank and out on the tender skin of her back.

he rubbed his coarse palms to soothe her and it almost felt un real, it almost felt like a fever dream or maybe just one hell of a miracle that he had seemed to waken up from whatever the hell he was in.

"oh god Rick" she clutched his shirt bawling her fists and burying her face into the crook of his neck to make sure that this was all real, to make sure that he wasn't going anywhere.

she had tears flowing against him, "whats going on y/n? talk to me" he spoke in such a worried manner that it made her own heart race even more at the fact he had no clue what was going on.

"you were out for two days and Carl and i were so worried i didn't know what to do Rick" her hands gripped at the fabric of his clothes and she watched him blink slowly as he swallowed in what she said.

"you wouldn't move and i waited, i waited with my knife because i thought you were going to turn" it made her ache just explaining what she had done in the time of his slumber,

the way she was so afraid and the way she had a hand tight;y gripping the handle of her knife ready to use it if he had turned into one of those things that filled the streets.

if he turned into a rotten piece of flesh that tried to kill them, one who was nothing but filled with violence and chomping teeth that always couldn't seem to get enough of human flesh.

"i'm here" he assured her and he could feel her breathing start to slow down each and every time he hummed those two words to her because it was all she needed to here. it was all she needed to keep herself going was that he was here.

he hummed them again and again until finally his son had stepped into the room rubbing his eyes to see that his father was awake and that this wasn't just some fever dream.

without even a doubt or hesitation Rick had Carl by his side, wrapping his arms around him taking in a deep sigh for the scare that he had given them from the amount of time he was asleep.

"it's okay. we're okay"

[holylulusworld]

Dreams of sharp teeth - Halloween

This story was written for @viking-raider's HALLOWEEN-KINKTOBER CHALLENGE. 🎃

This story was also written for @navybrat817 & @darkficsyouneveraskedfor 𝕹𝖆𝖛𝖞 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕽𝖔𝖔 𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖙: 𝕬𝖑𝖑 𝕳𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜’𝖘 𝕿𝖗𝖔𝖕𝖊𝖘 - I used the following tropes:

An unwanted houseguest

Power outage

A string of unexplained deaths

Summary: People disappear in your sleepy town.

Work Name/Title: Dreams of sharp teeth

Author: Holylulusworld

Fandom: Henry Cavill (MI & Night hunter)

Ship: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x fem!Reader x Werewolf!August Walker

Square filled for @halloweenhorrorbingo: Square 3: Wouldn't even harm a fly.

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

Halloween was always special to you. The costumes, carving pumpkins, and watching scary movies with your boyfriend.

Sadly, you are not allowed to leave your house tonight to watch the kids raid candy and have a few drinks with your friends. 

A string of unexplained deaths keeps people in your sleepy little town awake. It’s not unusual for people to die or get killed in accidents. But these days, people disappear and never get found. 

The few that got found were missing something important. Their hearts. That’s very unusual and concerning. Especially when the worst crime ever happening in your sleepy towns was when a few teenagers stole a car and crashed it. 

Your boyfriend is somewhere across the country, and you are alone in the empty house, feeling a little under the weather as you caught a cold from one of the kids at the local library where you’re working at.

It feels like the hours passed by in a blink, and dusk falls soon after you dragged yourself out of bed. You yawn and try to get your legs to obey. 

It’s a struggle but you manage to walk inside the kitchen to make some coffee.

You hate the dark liquid, but you are scared to fall asleep since the killings started - like everyone else in town. If only you can stay awake until dawn, the nightmares will go away.

The monotone noise the coffee brewer makes lures you into sleep again. Your eyes feel heavy, and you yawn once again. “I need to stay awake,” you remind yourself as you remember the dream you had last night.

Teeth - sharp and deadly haunt your dreams. And voices. Deep voice luring you in, calling for you in the darkness. They say your name and promise a life beyond your imagination.

Watching the coffee run into the cup you sigh. If only you could sleep for a few hours. It’s all you want and need. Your migraine is getting worse with every hour you force yourself to stay awake and you are so tired it’s painful.

“Just a few more hours,” you take a large sip of the bitter brew. “Hang on, Y/N. The curfew will be over soon. They will hunt the wolves killing the people in town down, and you can go back to your normal life.”

You chuckle as you realize that you tend to talk to yourself lately. With no one around, and no chance to leave the house, you are stuck here with too many thoughts running through your mind.

Maybe watching a movie will take your mind off the current situation in your town. You walk back inside your living room, searching for the remote control to switch the TV on. As you plop down onto the sofa, you groan as your bad knee cracks again.

“You’re getting old, Y/N,” you chuckle to yourself. “That’s payback for all the times you made fun of your mother for complaining about her age, and the little aches and pains that come with it.”

You take another sip of your coffee and switch to another channel. Horror movies are out of the question. The horror you experience in your dreams is enough. 

Switching channels, you try to find anything else to watch but a horror movie. You sigh, as you end up watching a talk show. 

Between sipping at the unwanted coffee and watching nonsense on TV you try not to fall asleep. Eyes trained on the tv you try to follow the conversation going on between the host and their guests. It’s boring but distracts you from the nightmare you had.

“It’s not that bad,” you lie to yourself while listening to the show. You are about to laugh about something the host said when the TV turns black. “NO!” All the lights go out, and you are sitting in darkness. 

Not another power outage. That’s the last thing you need right now. Fear grips your heart hearing noise come from outside your house. You grab your phone and run toward the front door to double-check if you locked it.

It’s locked, and you feel a little safer. Next is the back door, and all the windows. You almost run upstairs to check on your bedroom window, only to find it closed too.

“Y/N, you need to calm down,” you tell yourself once again. It’s hard to remain calm while people in town disappear, and die, though. “Relax. This is only another power outage. Nothing will happen to you.”

It doesn’t matter that your doors are locked. You walk back inside the kitchen and get the biggest knife you own. Your boyfriend will call you paranoid or crazy when he comes back, but you don’t care.

Better safe than sorry.

You walk back upstairs when someone knocks at your door. It’s in the dead of the night, and you don’t want to open the door. 

But what if one of your neighbors is in trouble? 

Maybe Mrs. Sinclair, a widow who can barely walk. Or Annie, from three houses down, a nurse with a heart of gold. You cannot ignore them, not if someone is in trouble.

Turning back around, the knife still in your hands you silently walk down the stairs. You’re a good neighbor, but you don’t want whoever is standing in front of your door to know that you are at home.

You look through the peephole, frowning because you can’t see shit.

“Hi, miss. I’m Walter from across the street. Your new neighbor. I mean we moved to town some months ago, but I wasn’t around much lately.”

“Walter,” you whisper and try to remember the people who moved into the only vacant house in your neighborhood.

“Walter Marshall, miss. I was checking on the neighbors if anyone needs help,” he says. “I’m with the police.”

“I locked the doors, and my boyfriend is here with me,” you don’t know why you lie to Walter, but you do. “He checks the windows. We are good, really.”

He chuckles darkly, and you step away from the door. “Sweetie, we both know you are all alone. I can hear your heart racing and smell your fear.”

Smell your fear? How’s that even possible?

You only know one thing for sure - that you won’t open the door for him. No matter what. You step backward, almost knocking the small coffee table next to your couch over as he knocks again. 

“Sweetie, open the door. It will make things so much easier for you and us.”

“Go away,” you shiver as he knocks again, louder this time. “Please just leave me alone.”

“I can’t,” he almost sounds sorry. “Y/N, you are not having a cold. Didn’t you ask yourself why so many people died after you got scratched by the kid in the library?”

You shake your head. How can he know about the incident and your cold?

“We know because we were there that day,” another voice says. You feel his hands on you, holding your trembling body in a tight grip. His strong arms wrap around your body. “Let us help you before you hurt more people. It’s not your fault. We should’ve been there to guide you through this.”

“August, go easy on her. She doesn’t know,” your eyes widen when the front door opens. You are sure you locked it and now your neighbor invades your home. “Hold her tight, we need to bring her to the basement before the moon rises again. She cannot control her powers yet.”

“What do you want? Let me go! Now,” you grow and snarl in Walter’s direction. You don’t know what’s wrong with you. “I’ll kill you.”

“I know you are confused,” August whispers in your ear. “But you need to listen to us. The kid that bit you wasn’t a normal child. It was our cousin’s boy and a werewolf. He cannot control his instinct.”

“He’s a good boy. Usually, he wouldn't even harm a fly. But the full moon was close, and you tried to take the book out of his hands. We are sorry, but you are one of us now,” Walter steps closer to cup your face. “You need to come with us before you hurt more people.”

“So far, we were able to cover your attacks. If you run around town and attack more people, they will find out about our secret, and we cannot let this happen.”

“I don’t…understand. I was at the library and then I…” you frown. “I lost track of time. My boyfriend…I need to call him. I…”

“Sweetie,” Walter tries to calm you. Your eyes glow, and you snap your teeth in his direction. “This is going to be hard to stomach but...”

August holds you a little tighter before he says, “He was your first victim…”

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! This is the end of this year's kinktober.

Tags in reblog.

[walkingintheheartbreaksatellite]

OMG VISCOUNT HARRY???? UHM YES GIMMIE NOW

The Arrangement

(Harry Styles x Bridgerton)

(Viscount! Harry Styles x Noble! Fem! Reader)

As an only child, Y/N is arranged to marry the Viscount Harry Styles. She is displeased with her father, as her mother had told her she could wait one more season before looking for a husband. But a marriage into one of the richest families in England is not what it would seem…

"Papa, please! Mama promised! I'm just not ready! Please, I don't want this!"

I pace around the drawing room, biting my lips as tears threaten to spill. My father however, remains stern in his decision.

"The Viscount is a fine man, and will prove to be a wonderful husband to you. It is done, my darling. You will marry the Viscount Styles, and I shall not entertain any further debate on the matter."

With my papa's word as final say, I could do nothing more as I retired to my bedroom to prepare for Lady Danbury's ball in honor of the new season.

Night falls as we leave the estate, my papa's fowl mood only growing as we venture to Danbury House.

"Oh come now, Stephen. This will be a fine experience for her. She is to be a Viscountess and as such, she will be attending these events more often."

My papa folds his arms childishly as he gives her a stern look.

"She is to bed wed, Eleanor. And yet you require her attendance at this silly gathering?"

I gasp in utter shock at my papa's words. Mama only scoffs and swats at him with her fan.

"Stephen Walker, do you think me a fool? I am allowing our daughter attend the soirée in support of Miss. Bridgerton, with the knowledge that the Viscount Styles will be in attendance. I thought it best our daughter to promenade with her betrothed, don't you dearest?"

If there's one thing about my mama, she knows well how to silence my papa. My papa mumbles under his breath and sits up properly as we had stopped moving. The footman opens the door and my papa helps mama and I exit our carriage.

Mama and I each take one of papa's arms and he escorts us inside. We are greeted immediately by Lady Danbury.

"Why if it isn't the Duke Walker and his lovely family! And my heavens, Lady Y/N! You are an absolute vision!"

I feel a small blush appear on my cheeks as I bow politely to her. We converse with Lady Danbury for a moment before she dismisses herself to greet more guests. From across the ballroom, my eyes land on the the one person I had eager to see.

"Papa, might I accompany Miss. Bridgerton in her search of suitors?"

My papa begins to refuse when my mama lays a hand on his chest, and she gives me a smile.

"Yes dearest, of course you may. Stephen, please escort our daughter. Be sure she remains with one of the lords Bridgerton. I shall find myself a drink."

Before papa can offer any debate, mama is already leaving his side and making her way through the crowd. Papa lets out a sigh and grumbles once more before he begins to walk me over to the Bridgertons.

"Lord Bridgerton, a pleasure to see you as always."

Lord Bridget gives my father a small nod in exchange. Daphne lets her brother go and leaps to me, causing her mama to scold her.

"Daphne, please!"

Daphne does not mind her mama as she hugs me close and I giggle.

"Lord Bridgerton, might I ask-."

Before my papa can finish, a man approaches us. Him. The Viscount Harry Styles. My papa smiles at the sight of him and turns his attention to the Viscount.

"Ah! Lord Styles! I was not expecting to see you this evening."

The man nods with a curt smile.

"Lord Walker, I was wishing to speak with you. Might I escort Lady Y/N this evening? I would very much like to speak with her."

My papa only smiles and practically pushes me to the Viscount's side, much to Daphne's disappointment. I merely push away from the from him, instead grabbing the arm of Mr. Benedict Bridgerton.

"Humblest apologies, my lord. I have been promised to Mr. Bridgerton for the evening. Isn't that right, Mr. Bridgerton?"

I give Benedict a pleasing look and he sends me one of his cat-like smiles. He lets go of me and hands me to the Viscount.

"I shall of course comply to his Lord's wishes, Lady Walker. I bid you a goodnight, my lady."

He bows and scurries off, laughing as he fetches himself a drink. I hesitantly turn my attention to the Viscount, who gives me a small, soft smile.

"Shall we dance, Lady Walker."

I force a small smile as I nod, taking his hand he has offered to me. After a few dances, Lord Styles suggests promenading in the garden. We walk along the many rose bushes coating the courtyard, though I simply refuse to look in the Viscount's direction.

"My Lady... I do hope you will come to agree with me. If we are to spend the rest of our lives together, should it not be a happy life?"

I simply remain silent as if I did not hear him.

"My Lady, is something the matter? We are betrothed after all, you needn't act so formal."

As much as I try to remain a perfect lady, I simply cannot hold my composure. I turn to him, exposing my inner thoughts before I am able to stop myself.

"Is this but a game to you, my Lord? This arrangement? Let me assure you, my Lord, this is no game to me. Above everything, I am a woman. I have dignity, I have desires and I have intelligence. I refuse to be reduced to nothing more than another wife. That is all that is expected of ladies in society. But that is not what I want."

He is silent for a moment before he holds out his arm to me, though he refuses my gaze.

"I hope you will come to understand why I asked for your hand, my lady. Fore I am not just a Viscount, but a man. Now, allow me to escort you to your father. I wish to retire for the night, and it disgraceful to leave a Lady alone."

He does not look my way through the entire walk inside the ballroom before leaving me in the arms of my papa. He gives a small, simple bow before he excuses himself, leaving quietly. My papa insists we retire for the evening as well, as my mama has found herself rather lush.

Rather early the next morning, I lounge in the drawing room, reading leisurely, just as I do every morning. My papa storms in, a rather stern expression on has face as he paces to me rather quickly, a letter grasped tightly in his hand.

"Have I failed you as a father?"

"Papa?"

"Truly, have I failed you? The daughter I have raised would never speak such a way! I shall like to hear your explanation!"

Before I am able to respond, my mama waltzes in, a look of worry on her freckled face.

"Dearest! What ever could be the matter?"

My papa seethes as he turns to my mama, his look of anger evident.

"Your daughter provoked a tiff with the Viscount last night!"

"Oh Y/N..."

"Papa, I am sorry! I was merely being honest with the Viscount! Is that not what you have raised me to do, papa? I am a lady, just as you have raised me to be. I am quite capable of doing things for my self, and I am in no need of a man. I am not an object papa, and I will not allow myself to be seen as such."

My papa sighs and sits in the open seat of the Davenport I occupy.

"I know quite well how I raised you. I raised you to be strong and polite. I expect better from you. The Viscount and I would very much like this arrangement to work. Therefore: you will be staying at Styles Estate until your wedding, when you will take permanent residence with the Viscount."

🚾 1384

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