#and also ‘you gotta let yourself lose sometimes you know?’

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 8 - Breeding

John Price x Reader - 1k (on ao3)

summary: You worry that your boss sees your relationship as more long-term than you do. (Reader POV, second person)

cw: implied stealthing, under negotiated breeding kink, one-sided daddy kink

You tell yourself it’s just a kink.

You’re not ready to become a mother - you’d like to be married for at least a year before even trying for a baby, and you’d like to have an established career before even getting married. For you, the idea of a bun in the oven is so far down the line it’s not even visible on the horizon yet.

But you know it’s not the same for Price. He’s older than you, has lived a far wilder life and lost it what must be nearly a dozen times over. He’s a weathered man, with deep lines on his forehead and wrinkles around his eyes, just the tiniest hint of silver creeping into his beard.

You know it’s not smart to have a fling with him. Not only is he your boss and a controversially older man, but he’s also the exact opposite of a commitment-phobe like you. He’s always looking for more commitment in fact, something you hadn’t expected considering the illicitness of your relationship with him.

You'd assumed an affair with your boss would involve mostly quickies in closets, a refusal to be in the same room as one another during the workday, maybe even pretending to dislike each other around other coworkers. Instead, he talks to you more once you start sleeping together than he had before - he parks himself on your desk at any time he pleases, invites you to have lunch in his office with him (alone), and laughs when your co-workers call him your work-husband.

So you know that he wants more, that he wants you to really be with him (he hints at far more than just that, but doesn’t dare say it aloud, which you’re glad for) past just being his secretary and his fuckbuddy. 

In fact, he’d nearly torn you into two when you’d giggled and called him a “bootycall” after he called you back into work hours after you’d gone home. His face had gone from eager and affectionate to what you can only call scolding, and he’d been rougher with you than normal. You enjoy a few smacks to your ass, but that night he’d spanked you hard enough to leave you squirming the next morning when you sat at your desk. You’d been pouty about it, had glared only half-playfully at him when he smirked, but the way he ate you out on his desk for lunch more than made up for the discomfort. 

And he makes these… comments sometimes, while he’s buried inside you. Things that allude to a future you’re not ready for.

Gotta come after me, sweetheart, it takes better like that.

Hips up, don’t let any of me drip out.

Gonna make me a daddy, pretty thing? Huh? Gonna take my cum and grow me a baby?

My good fuckin’ girl, lettin’ me breed her pretty cunt.

Gonna look so pretty, all round for me. Gonna take such good care of you.

C’mon, honey, wanna make sure it sticks this time.

You tell yourself it’s just a kink. He plugs you up with a couple fingers once he’s finished, says “Just to make sure you don’t lose any of my cum, can’t be wastin’ it right now,” and licks your clit until your legs shake. 

He hardly fucks you in any position that isn’t bent over his desk, no matter how much you whine and beg for me. He just smacks your ass, gives you an extra orgasm or two to keep you placated. More often than not he leaves you bent over the desk after he’s finished, tilts your hips up a little higher and gives you a kiss on the temple as he sits back in his seat to get back to work.

You’d told him to use a condom the first few times, even though you’ve been on birth control for years. You’ve always been responsible with flings, been more than willing to send a man packing at the first hint of whining if he didn’t want to wear protection. A baby has never once crossed your mind as an option, and it certainly doesn't now.

So it was instinct to tell Price to put on a condom before he fucked you the first time. And he had, without kicking up any fuss about it past a furrowed brow and a grumble or two.

But then the condom broke, and you were left with his cum dripping down your thighs. You’d had a moment of panic, but he’d given you money for Plan B, and you told yourself the odds of getting pregnant with Plan B and birth control were so low it wasn’t worth stressing out over.

The condom broke the second time. And the third. And the fourth. And the fifth. And every time after that you asked him to wear one.

At some point you stopped asking, and he never remembered himself. A few muttered questions about what brand he’d been using between fevered kisses, thick fingers at your cunt a distraction, and eventually you told yourself it wouldn’t matter as long as you kept taking the birth control pills.

It would be rude to demand Plan B after every round, right? Plus, asking for cash minutes after you'd both gotten off always made you feel a bit... dirty. When you feel him drip down your thighs, when you pull your panties up and feel the mixture of both of you gather there, you tell yourself that the birth control will surely do it's job, and you try not to worry.

Now, pulling open the drawer where you keep your pills, you wonder if maybe all his talk of babies and his cum taking is more than just heat-of-the-moment dirty talk.

You stare down at the empty drawer and every time he’s called himself Daddy echoes in your ear like a choir.

[ceilidho]

exit, no entry wound joe bear graves x reader; part 1 (3.8k)

-

Local time at destination: 0500 hours.

And then the world rushes back to him like the culmination of a terrible dream.

Bear wakes up in another rosebush outside the front steps of the local library worse for wear. Blinking out of sleep-crusted eyes, shapes diverging in blurry unfocus before slipping back into material objects. A bench. A door. The thorny stems of roses already on their way out, already depetalling, the ground below covered in a thin layer of them. One petal even sticking to his cheek when he pulls himself off the ground, wincing at the branches that crunch around him, that tug against his skin and clothes.

His clothes smell of cheap liquor. Gin. Bourbon. It hurts to open his eyes, to sit up. 

“Morning, sunshine,” someone says. He remembers hearing it in his dream too. 

He looks to the source of his awakening, blanching when he notices the man staring at him.

Rip sits on the other side of the bushes on his haunches, looking deeply unimpressed. Hair slicked back for a change. “This what you get up to when I’m gone?”

Bear doesn’t respond. He struggles to his feet instead, hangover only just creeping in. Still drunk, to an extent. His knees threaten to buckle under him, forcing him to lay a hand flat on the wall to keep himself upright. One foot in front of the other. The walk home feels endless in the hour before dawn, hardly any light to guide him. 

“Pretty pathetic shit, Bear,” the man says, trailing along behind him. Not quite mockingly, but bordering on it. “Getting piss drunk and passing out in a bush? Really? C’mon, man. You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

There’s no sense in responding, Bear knows that now. No sense in even turning around to look. One foot in front of the other. Stumbling home alone under the cloak of night, dawn just around the corner; terrified that one day he’ll have to see it—the sun coming over the mountains, over the horizon. 

It’s been less than a year. He hasn’t yet made his amends with God. Forgiveness sits outside of him. Not quite the right time to let it in. Maybe that time passed a long time ago, a small aperture that shuttered closed at the approach of his eyes. He missed it sometime between killing a boy and losing his mind.

A man cannot hold himself up on the scaffolding of the world alone. There has to be something beneath him. There is no sense in repeating the horrors of the world back to him; he’s already lived them. He’s got something of a Midas touch for death. 

The months have been long since the divorce was finalised, since Lena left for good, since Buckley died, since Rip—since it all went down. If he thinks about it for too long, it seems like a nightmare that he woke up from still mad about; a nightmare he had no choice but to drink himself into a stupor over to escape. That’s the reality of the world. 

“You know, Bear, you’re not the one that’s fuckin’ dead,” Rip spits as he follows behind, matching Bear’s stumbling gait stride for stride. “So you can stop acting like it.”

There’s a truth in Rip’s words and it leaves him feeling nauseous. There’s also a kink in his neck and a headache threatening to split his forehead open. In the belly of him, he has a truth that says that the firmament of heaven is beyond his reach. When he looks up and the sky is void of coruscating light, the meagre stars like an exit with no entry wound, it doesn’t surprise him. Of course there wouldn’t be anything there.

On a good day, his heart feels like it’s weathered a siege. 

“So she left you! It’s time to fuckin’ move on. Go to a bar—I mean, you already are, so step one done—and pick someone up. Go on Christian Mingle or something. You keep living your life like this and you’re going to wind up killing yourself. And then the fuck good that’ll do?”

It takes everything in him to not turn around and do something rash. Only the nausea keeps him from making any sudden movements. Even if he were to turn around and do something, his knees would probably buckle under him. Probably throw up the contents of his stomach. Not much in there either. It rumbles when he thinks that, clenching at the thought of food. Then it twists, the nausea returning. 

One foot in front of the other. The walk home takes twice as long, his whole body aching.

“Heard you almost quit. Wouldn’t be the worst idea you ever had. Let Buddha take over—he’s earned it. Get yourself a nice piece of land in fuckin’…Montana or something. Couple cows, maybe some chicken—you could get a dog, Christ. You look like a guy who’d have a dog. Why don’t you have a dog, actually? You would’ve told me if you didn’t like dogs, so it’s not that.”

His forehead is greasy when he touches it to rub his head. Body secreting poison in his sleep. Oily. The corners of his lips crack when he yawns. It’s not like he’s never thought about a dog, about having something to care for, another living thing in his house. 

But—

(“Bear? …I don’t think we should have a child.”)

What he wants often falls to the wayside, slides off him like a glancing blow. 

Her old, familiar shape appears at the sudden loss of a dream: one where Lena’s gaze lingers on him long enough to burn; but then it is the sun.

Bear watches dawn break. Sunday morning. In a different life, he would’ve squinted into the light of a new day and closed his eyes against it, curling into the slighter body tucked into his chest for another hour of rest. Felt the rise and fall of her chest. Woken up to a hot mouth on his cock or fingers curling in his chest hair, petal lips seeking him out. Church after that, showering off the remnants of their morning, solemn in their pews with their chests still holding the laughter of an hour previous. Light as air, as a feather. 

He won’t go to church today; hasn’t in months. Not with the guilt of missing it the week before trailing after him, each missed week compounding month after month. The cracks in his faith webbing. Splintering out like stepping on the lake when it freezes over in the winter, crunching under his boot until he holds his place. Conscious that it could break under his feet.

“I grew up with a dog,” Bear finally responds, voice hoarse. First thing he’s said since last call at the bar. 

“Yeah. Figures. What kind?”

“Black lab. We called her Daisy.”

It’s another lifetime ago. Still living in his parent’s house, Daisy curled by his dad’s feet, her favourite spot to sleep. Television playing at a low volume, mom at the kitchen table doing her crossword, ink bleeding into the side of her hand. It’s been a long time since Bear buried all of them. He’s buried countless people since. 

“What—can’t get another? One and done? That’s how everything works for you?”

Teeth raze across his skin again. Trust Rip to always cut to the quick. Finally back in his neighbourhood at least, the street empty apart from the cars parked in their driveways or along the sidewalk. Bear’s stomach rumbles something fierce now, entreating him to eat. Worse than hunger is how he’d kill for a glass of water though. Anything to settle his head.

“Haven’t wanted a dog,” Bear grumbles, then clears his throat.

“Yeah, you have,” Rip scoffs. Bear hears him kick a rock, sending it skidding across the asphalt. 

“Fuck off.”

Heart silicified in his chest, composed of fossilised shells and rocks and bones. It feels heavy in his chest. 

He turns down the street leading to his house. 

“Gotta let someone else in, Bear. Girl, dog—whatever. You can’t keep this up forever or it’ll kill you.”

When he turns around at the door, fishing in his pocket for his keys, the sidewalk beyond his house is empty. 

(So a man lies down and rises not again; till the heavens are no more he will not awake or be roused out of his sleep.)

Every Friday like clockwork, Bear stops at the diner down the street for a coffee and a slice of cherry pie before heading to the bar. 

Today is like any other. He leaves the house with only his keys and wallet and walks the long twenty minutes to the diner. Every time he fights the urge to drive, but there has to be something holding him in place. A reason not to throw it all away. 

It’s never completely empty when he shows up, but it’s never full either. His seat at the back of the room is open as usual, like they put up a sign before he comes ambling down the street that says Reserved for Joe Graves and then pluck it away before he opens the door. It’d be nice if that were the case. Nice to have something just for him for a change. The thought comes with its accompanying pang of shame. Desire is a dangerous thing; anything he’s ever wanted has come at him with sharpened teeth, clamping down on his leg and ripping through the flesh. Bear trap for old Bear. 

He slides into the booth and waits for someone to notice him. Never bothers to flag someone down—if it’s ten minutes or even half an hour before he’s served, that’s fine by him. 

“Hiya,” a clear voice says to his right, pulling him away from staring through the blinds out the window. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, tea?”

The face Bear turns to meet is pleasant, smiling. Wide and untroubled. It’s not a face he recognizes though, despite months coming to this diner and becoming familiar with the staff. If he had to guess, he’d bet she only started a few days ago, maybe a week at most. She still has the sparkle of someone who hasn’t had the goodness beaten out of them yet. 

“Coffee,” he says, his own smile strained. “And a slice of pie.”

“Sure—we have key lime, blueberry, apple—”

“Cherry,” he interrupts, not letting her build steam. The wick in his chest burns too low for any conversation. The quick flicker of her brow makes the shame in his chest swell again. Forgive me sitting on his lips, unsaid. I’m sorry, I don’t know why I do this. 

She nods and scurries off to the back, skirt swishing with her movements. Bear notices only because his eyes get stuck there, somewhere between the curves of her hips and the roundness of her ass. When he realizes where he’s let his mind wander, he pulls it back, flattening his lips into a hard line. Any sort of indulgence feels wrong, a taking that shouldn’t be taken. He hasn’t even begun to pay penance for all the damage he’s wrought. 

It’s only on her way back that Bear notices the small bump protruding from under her apron. His mouth goes dry. When she reaches him again, he wordlessly accepts the cup of coffee and her reassurance that the pie will be out in just a minute. For a moment, he can hardly meet her gaze, eyes locked on the gentle curve of her belly, caught off guard in a way he hasn’t been in months. 

The first thought with any clarity is, what is she doing working here? A crummy diner on a Friday night. Down the street from an even sleazier pub. His second thought is to look outside at the poorly lit stretch of road and think that this is no place for a pregnant woman to be alone. He recognizes each car in the parking lot save one, likely hers. Drove herself here with the expectation of driving herself home at the end of the night.

If it had been Lena—well, he never would’ve let it be Lena, but if it had been, Bear can’t imagine letting his pregnant wife drive herself home in the middle of the night. Can hardly stomach the thought. 

She’s not Lena though, so he has no right. 

She’s gone before he has time to say anything else, skirt swishing behind her. It catches his eye again. When he tears his gaze away for a second time, he swallows back the metallic taste of self-loathing. It curdles in his mouth. It’s the sign telling him to stop coveting, stop looking out into the world and wondering what he can take. It’s his hamartia, his fatal flaw; thinking himself above the reproach of God. Thinking that he can kill, fuck, curse, and stray farther and farther from the light only to find his way back in the dark. 

The bell above the door rings when someone else comes in and Bear tenses. His shoulders only relax when two older women step in and head to a table. 

He watches as she picks up a plate from the pass-through window and heads back towards him. When she places it in front of him, he draws a deep breath in, trying to catch more than just the aroma of fresh baked cherries. 

“Here we go…one slice of cherry pie, straight out of the oven.”

“Thanks, honey,” Bear rumbles, smile finally meeting his eyes. 

“No trouble. The guys in the back said they make it special for you. Joe, right?”

That gets him to levy her with the full weight of his attention. The thought of her asking about him. “I go by Bear.”

“Oh. Alright, Bear.” She twists the word around in her mouth and seems to find it satisfying. “I think I’ve heard your name before. You were—I mean, you’re part of Pastor Adams’ parish, right?”

He clears his throat, cutting off the triangle point of his pie with the side of his fork. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Me too,” she confides, voice a low whisper. A secret between strangers. She doesn’t glance around though, doesn’t bother to draw out the ruse. “Or, I was, anyway. Haven’t been to service in awhile. I, um…I remember you. From a year or so back. You and your—um…you and your wife used to always sit up at the front.”

The fork scrapes against the plate. “Ex-wife.”

He catches her wince from the corner of his eye. “Oh. Sorry. You just—” She doesn’t have to say it. The slight dip of her eyes tells him all he has to know, and besides, it’s his own fault for still wearing the ring. Even with the paperwork signed and dated, even with Lena in another state now, starting a new life without him, the thought of taking it off makes him break out in a cold sweat. 

“It’s not—” Bear starts before giving up. He curls his fingers into a fist on the table. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine. Not a big deal.”

She fidgets in the silence. Bear can’t bring himself to break it or make the atmosphere less oppressive. He tenses under it, the ache in his low back worsening. These days, he always aches. Nerve damage, a disc on the verge of slipping, an old ankle injury that flares up whenever he goes running. A ghost that follows him from haunt to haunt. The ring on his finger is just another old ache. 

“So, uh—��� he clears his throat, nodding to her belly. “Your first?” 

It’s inappropriate, hardly his place to ask. Incredibly intrusive for someone he’s met for the first time, a stranger just trying to do her job and serve him coffee and pie before he goes off to drink himself half to death again at the dive bar down the road. 

Still, he asks. 

Only the faintest wrinkle of her nose betrays any embarrassment. “Oh. Yeah. First one.”

“Congratulations.” It’s sincere. The envy in his gut is old, but it’s a manageable pain. 

“Thanks,” she says, with a small, private smile, hand resting absently under her belly. “I’m excited. I’m only a couple months along, but, uh…it’s been a journey. Just me and baby against the world, you know.”

That stops him in his tracks. Screws up the whole course of his evening because suddenly the sound of the bell over the door jingling doesn’t draw his attention away. It stays fixed on the smiling girl to his right that just opened her mouth and said something unacceptable. 

“Where’s the dad?” he asks, far too bluntly. 

She shrugs. “Somewhere. Didn’t stick around long enough to tell me where. It’s fine though—I’ve got my little peanut. That’s all that matters.”

“You told him and he left?” 

The pie sits cooling in front of Bear as a pit in his stomach opens up. It’s a terrible, empty hole that holds truths like the fallibility of the body and the good shouldering the burdens of the world.  

He only regrets being so direct when her lip quivers, a little motion that betrays her until she wrests control over her face again. “It’s not his fault. I don’t think he was—well…you know, it was a surprise.”

“That’s—” he struggles to find his words, “—that’s not right.”

Again, she shrugs. “That’s life.”

Bear feels his eyes go hard. A coldness settles under his skin. 

In the deep, dark gut of him, only anger lives. He spends his days questioning why God has allowed everything else in his life to fall apart, has allowed countless other people to die, but refuses, for reasons unbeknownst to him, to kill him. He’s given him enough opportunity and enough reason. 

The answer he circles back to time and again is the same. An eye for an eye. Divine wrath. The litany of his sins could be sung until the end of time and there’d still be more to sing. It’s only right that there would be consequences for him. 

The rage that simmers in his blood now is twofold. It begins with the sharp pang of injustice, of witnessing a punishment meted out to someone innocent. The girl standing by the booth he’s shoved himself into, almost too small for a man of his size, cannot be deserving of the same punishment that he’s brought upon himself. She has never killed. The babe in her belly has never killed. The two of them should never have to meet at the point of two paths converging with the likes of someone like Bear and proceed down the same road together. 

Then it sinks into a familiar territory. A place at the core of him where righteousness gives way to envy, as it always does. After what he's been through, the thought of someone having everything that he's always desperately wanted handed to them on a silver platter and then sending it back leaves him feeling a bit off-kilter. Not quite right. 

“Bear?” Her voice breaks the silence. When he blinks, concerned eyes stare down at him, brows furrowed. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he rasps, dragging a hand down his face. Shaking it off. “Sorry, I—got lost in my head. Sorry.” 

“That’s alright,” she says, again gentle in her voice and smile. “Easy place to get lost in, isn’t it?”

He makes a sound in acknowledgment. Drags the silence out. Her mouth twists shy under his scrutiny. 

“Anyway, I have a few other tables to get to, if you don’t mind. Enjoy your pie. I’ll check on you in a bit.”

He eats his slice of pie in silence as she leaves, eyes following her to her next table. Rage still sizzles under his fingertips. It makes his hands shake, old nerve damage and anger problems. 

It’s like a gun punch to think of her all on her own. It’s not right. For someone like him, well, it’s—deserved, earned. Inevitable, even. Every step taking him further away from grace, from its light. No one who knows his story would think otherwise. 

She’s a pretty thing though, this new waitress. Too tired, the bags under her eyes testament to that, no matter how well she hides them with makeup. Slightly puffy anyway, maybe from a lack of sleep or too many tears. His stomach aches at the thought. It must have come as a shock, the bottom of her world dropping out from under her when the baby’s father took off. Dragged away from the church not through her own doing, but the fault of another. Not her shame to bear, and yet. 

He forces the pie down. Bites that taste like nothing, 

Bear hears the lilt of her voice from two tables over. “Refill on your coffee, hun?” 

A supplicant sits in his place as he sips his coffee. The hour slips by into the next and it starts to come together in his mind. Why he's been forced down this long road alone, why God hasn't struck him down yet despite every terrible thing he's done. His eyes follow her flit across the diner, the light seeming to bend around her like a halation. 

When Bear looks across the room at her, he thinks, Lord, do not think I am waiting patiently for your hands. Every part of me trembles with anxiety.

(O Lord, show me I can fall apart together again; but not just yet.)

He stays until the last customer has finally left, waiting for her to come back to his table with an apologetic smile. When she does, Bear hands her his empty plate, watching her take a step back when he scoots out of the booth, rising to his full height. He makes note of the way her eyes round as they follow him up. Taller than her, unsurprisingly. Surprising though, the way her bottom lip droops just the slightest bit. 

“Is it just you closing up?” he asks, voice a tad too gruff. He clears his throat again, looking around for anyone else. 

“Well, the chef’s cleaning up in the back, but, uh—” she looks around the diner, conspicuously empty apart from the two of them. “Yeah. Just me.”

Bear gestures with his chin towards the door. “I’ll wait ‘till you’re done, then walk you to your car.”

“Oh, Joe—”

“Bear,” he corrects.

“Bear,” she amends, fingers twisting together now. He relishes the sound of it on her lips. “You don’t have to. I’m used to it, honestly. I know I just started here, but I’ve done closes before, you know.”

“I’ll wait outside.” A statement now. Stubborn. He’s always been a bit mulish, hard to shake off. 

He can tell the second she relents, shoulders slumping. “Alright. I shouldn’t be too long…you can leave if you get bored though. Won’t blame you.” 

He fights the urge to tilt her head up by the chin to make her meet his eyes. Just barely restrains himself. 

Leaning against a tree out front, he twirls the ring around his finger as he watches her clean up. For the first time in a long time, he slips it off.

[azure-cherie]

PAC :

What's in your store for January

Pile 1 -3

Hello love's hope you had a very happy and fruitful new year , I'm praying for the happiness and well being of all of us one more year together I'm so grateful for each one of youuu

Please choose using your intuition and take what resonates

If you'd like a personalized reading for new year

Paid readings , paid readings 2 , masterlist

Pile 1 :

First of all what are you guys even dealing with good lord The energy is pretty heavy , I will not be surprised if you have prominent Saturn in your charts this month I believe you are dealing with karmic cycles , Things ending in general, you might be a bit shaken up soon something you thought never would happen will happen

I'm sensing career or home sector fights could be there as well as inner conflicts beware and take precautions don't get too caught up about what others have to say rather choose your own story this also indicates you might soon take a stand for yourself its really required something has to come to an end because the time is over now you are to urge for more ! Financially! Abundance is written for you this time your creativity will pay off I know you like you play with fire but remember life moulds you like a clay some fire glazes some melts you gotta choose your own battles why do I feel like I'm talking to myself lol .

You will understand the worth of spontaneous plans soon sometimes you gotta do stuff for the sake of doing it and you just gotta act wild just be careful about the fact that everyone you go out with isn't a friend every co worker doesn't mean good for you learn to see through people's mask ! Theres one video by persephonesmind its perfect she explains it really well , followed by ten of swords some of you might experience a rock bottom moment however it isn't for everyone but with the world be assured you will pick yourself up this might seem like a bad ending but it's a good one or turn out to be good it's a matter of time bae anyone who tries to play you cheat on you will be ashamed themselves because they will see the purity in your heart .towards the end of the month I see some enemies becoming friends.

Pile 2 :

You're a bad bitch period !! This month is about embodying the best version of yourself move on despite the snakes around you ignore the people you're gonna be investing on something that is worth it it's a sign ! Friendships are something you will be blessed this month new and old you will also actively let go of a fear of yours I heart heights and abandonment issues.

If you're looking for commitment from someone it will be given this month like engagements marriage yay social media fame is also written there would be more family functions to attend to I see more active energy in this pile. You will understand the worth of standing alone and work your intuition through difficult situations .Your dreams might be a clear indicator of something also I feel you're making someone cry or someone is making you cry ask advice from someone who's been there in your situation you can also ignore if the situation isn't as important I also feel ignorance energy I guess it's good because you're also healing from abandonment issues .

You'll be doing some course on money management or get advise from your elders on your resources. Sometimes we make our own problems dont get sucked into that take time but let your loved ones know that you need it ! Also you really need that money management advice as you might end up losing something but I also don't think it will he a bad loss ! Sometimes sacrifices are necessary you might understand the worth of small losses now but that will protect from bigger issues later.

Pile 3 :

I don't dress for women I don't dress for men lately I've been dressing for revenge! That's your main mood this January you're gonna show everyone who didn't believe in you what you're capable of you're going new heights reaching new goals making new ways I'm so proud of you

You have struggled a lot to do this actions manifesting you are getting closer to what you want , might fetch yourself a new leadership position this month you're gonna be an example an epitome of grown beside the struggles because you're so ready to work despite all the sneaking going on behind your back you're gonna be doing the thing needed to defeat your enemies you will undergo momentary defeat and might cry for a while because you might feel all forces are against you this is the time to pour into your inter child

When trauma shows up remember to shadow work nothing ever goes away one needs to heal with it don't get swayed away with temptations and fake promises I heard devil is strong but so is the knight know that your emotional strength will lead you through this you have to be more intune with your emotions but also lead with logic it's a hard balance to learn but once you're on it you become undefeated and you will be I'm so sure about that.

Thank you so much for reading

Have a great day/night ahead ❤️

[darylsdelts]

Hi, how are you?? Would it be alright to request a drabble where Daryl and his partner keep trying to have some alone time between their jobs in the Commonwealth but keep getting interrupted by Judith, RJ and Dog? And when things get hot and heavy at night, one of the kids has a nightmare and wants to sleep in their bed?

Thank you and take care lovely <3

DarylxFem!Reader

warnings: p in v, poorly written smut.

this is something I think about a lot, tysm for the request!!

You’d settled into the commonwealth now. In the beginning, it was difficult, you had grown so accustomed to hilltop and being surrounded by people you already knew, and most of all, you were used to being with Daryl all the time. 

Things were different now, Daryl had some big important job that didn’t leave him much alone time, he was surrounded by dumbasses all the time and if you knew Daryl then you knew how much he struggled to push through the days sometimes.

You’re job wasn’t as big as Daryl’s but it was important to you because it helped you feel like part of the community. You worked in the ice cream truck and you loved it, it wasn’t a demanding job, it was simply just scooping ice cream and seeing the smiles on the kids faces when you handed it to them. Daryl had described it as ‘the perfect job for you’. He knew you were capable of so much more but he also knew that his girl deserved a break and he’d be damned if he took your little ice cream job away from you, there was no need to overexert yourself now you were here, so he was just glad you were enjoying yourself, even if he didn’t particularly have the best time at his own job.

You were the one to pick the kids up from school whilst Daryl was the one who ushered the two Grimes’ to get ready quickly in the mornings, since he had to get up early anyways. Daryl rarely got any days off and it was showing, he was becoming short with people, not being hurtful or rude but he was just exhausted and quite frankly just wanted to sleep as soon as he got home which left very little time for the two of you but you understood.

One morning, you woke up from Daryl planting a soft kiss on your forehead. Opening your eyes and staring at him, you were confused. He wasn’t in his gear or in his black attire, he was just wearing his worn black jeans and button down with his leather vest.

“Mornin’, darlin’” he swiped some hair off your face.

Your eyebrows furrow, “why aren’t you- why are you still here?”

Daryl scoffed with a smirk.

“Ouch…” he chuckles, “ain’t got work today, gotta day off to spend wit’ ya”

Instantly, a grin took over your face, reaching your arms out to your partner which he gladly took in his calloused hands and pulled you to sit upright.

“Want ya to get ready… gon’ be just me n you today, okay?”.

God, you love him so much!

“Okay…” you reply with a soft giggle.

Halfway through your shower, you feel a sudden surge of panic.

You rush out of the bathroom to find Daryl sat at the small table in the kitchen area.

“Daryl! Where are the kids?! It’s the weekend!”

Daryl looks up at you and nearly chokes on the water in his mouth when he sees you stood stark naked.

Then he stifles laughter.

“Christ girl… they’re with Carol. Ya really think id just lose em?” He raises his eyebrows and can’t help his eyes from darting between your chest and your face.

“Get back in the damn shower, been in there long enough anyways… hurry up”.

Ten minutes later, you’re dressed and ready to go… wherever Daryl plans on taking you.

Just as you leave the apartment complex, Daryl almost bumps straight into Carol, who was coming the opposite way with RJ in tow, looking teary-eyed.

“Daryl… I’m sorry, I know you had… plans, but RJ’s not feeling so hot and he just keeps asking for you”.

As RJ lets go of Carol’s hand and quickly latches on to Daryl’s, you can hear Daryl sigh.

“Nah… s’alrigh’… thanks Carol”, Daryl ruffles RJ’s hair and then turns back towards the apartment complex, walking in without another word.

Lord knows he’s pissed off, not at RJ, but just at the world but… what’s new?

Once inside, you tell Daryl to go sit down whilst you deal with RJ, tucking him in and giving him some medicine. After he’s all snuggled, you tell him to shout if he needs anything and then you shut the door, making your way to Daryl.

He’s sat in the same chair as earlier, he looks up at you as you stand beside him.

Cupping his face, you lean down to kiss his cheek, “its okay, we can still spend time together inside…”

Daryl forces a smile and nods, you’re always the positive one and he loves you for that but he wanted to do something nice with you today.

You spend the rest of the day taking care of RJ and playing a real old, shitty board game with Daryl (who doesn’t play by the rules) until Judith came home from being Carol’s care all day.

You and Daryl do your job as make shift parents, getting the kids to bed and then the two of you go to bed together. Daryl holds you protectively against his chest and you can sense he’s upset with how the day panned out. And, just to top it off, dog decided to bark at a bird through the window at one AM, causing the entire family to wake up. You offer to be the one to get up, close the damn curtains and get the kids settled again but Daryl being Daryl, is stubborn as hell.

“Shhh... Just go back to sleep, I got it”

You groan inwardly, knowing that your man will be grouchy the next morning.

And boy were you right.

Not being able to treat you to a nice day was pissing Daryl off to high heavens, but that mixed with three hours sleep after having to get two children back to sleep and a dog to stop barking, was a recipe for disaster.

Your man was running himself into the ground and you knew that if you didn’t do something soon, he’d get overwhelmed and most likely have some sort of mental break down. There’s only so much the great loverboy Daryl Dixon can take!

A few days later, you’d managed to work your magic. 

Daryl had the afternoon off and the kids both had sleepovers to attend.

And so did you and Daryl.

Daryl got off from work at two, bursting through the door and practically ripping his gear off. He was stressed.

As soon as he sees you, he walks over to you but just stands in front of you, no advances.

As you look over his face, you notice he looks about ready to cry, so you squeeze his biceps then rub his shoulders, reaching up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss.

His strong hands wrap around your waist and pull you closer, deepening the kiss. He starts to guide you backwards until the back of your knees hit the mattress and your fall onto your back.

Daryl practically growls, he’s HUNGRY and it visible in his eyes.

He lifts you to the centre of the mattress, leaning over you and kissing at your neck, sucking and nibbling as you emit desperate whimpers, you’re both just as needy as each other.

Daryl wants to kiss every part of you but he’s already painfully hard in the confines of his trousers and he’s so fucking pent up he’s afraid that if he keeps up the foreplay, he won’t last much longer.

Standing on his knees, he undoes his pants, pulling them down swiftly, along with his boxers, his impressive length springing free, his tip producing a fat bead of precum.

“Bend over.” Is all he says.

You do as you’re told, of course, getting onto your hands and knees, arching your back and pushing your ass out for your man.

Grabbing the skirt of your dress, he pushes it up to your shoulder blades, making sure its out the way.

He spreads your soft ass cheeks with his calloused hands, running his thumb over the wet spot on your panties.

“Such a good, fucking girl fer me, aint ya?”

You whine as a reply and then he’s pulling your panties to the side, running his thumb through your wet slit then stopping to massage at your clit.

“Please…”, you whimper out.

His hand leaves your pussy, gripping at the base of his cock and guiding it to your folds, pushing in without another warning.

“Fu-uuck… so fucking tight y/n…”

Daryl holds your hips in a grip like a vice, pounding into you from behind whilst he grunts with each thrust. He leans down to kiss your back, his hands leaving your hips to slide up the front of your dress, squeeing your tits.

Daryl’s grunts turn into whimpers as he gets close, but then you both hear the front door open, followed my a chirp voice.

“Uncle Daryl, Aunt y/n…?” Judith’s steps can be heard coming towards the bedroom as she searches for the both of you.

“Ya gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me”, Daryl quickly pulls out, throwing a blanket over you and then roughly pulling up his pants.

“Aye, Jude just- just wait out there, kid!”

So she does, and when Daryl exits the room he’s met with a knowingly raised eyebrow.

“Don’t gimme that, ya ain’t s’posed to be ‘ere”

“I had a nightmare… I wanted to come home”

Daryl expression softens.

“Ya walked back here by yerself, in the dark?”

Judith nods, clearly a little shaken. “Can I sleep in your guys’ bed? Please?”

Daryl sighs but ultimately gives in, making sure you’re decent before leading Jude in.

Daryl was not happy that Judith had walked home by herself in the dark, not telling the adults she was with, but he was less happy about the fact he left you hanging.

But that would have to be solved another time, now Daryl had lost all horniness… almost being walked in on by your ‘kid’ does that to a man, specially when the plant themselves right in the middle of you and your girl.

Judith fell asleep pretty fast between the two of you.

You reached across the sleeping child to squeeze Daryl’s hand, whispering a meaningful “I love you”.

Sure, Daryl was a little down that he couldn’t love on his girl like he wanted to but boy was he lucky, and he was smart enough to see that. He was grateful for his little family, so he returned the gesture. 

“Love ya too, baby”

“Ssssshhh!”

You and Daryl scoffed at Judith’s demand, but followed suit, falling asleep eventually.

God this felt so rushed! Alsooooo I struggle so much with tense so I’m sorry about that lmfao.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

I'm really sick and Satan's sacrificial waterfall is here AT THE SAME TIME!

I don't know if you do blurbs or headcannons, but if so, would you be willing to write for the boys (either taskforce 141, or singular characters,) taking care of an afab reader who has never had anyone wanting to take care of them?

If not, sorry to bother!

I don't typically take requests but... since I'm in the same boat (sacrificial waterfall is probably going to come over the weekend for me), I'll 100% do it.

A while back I also posted this: "You're feeling ill" and it's also along the same vein, if you'd like an extra little pick me up.

Period woes.

Rating: G Words: 1K~ tags: afab!reader but you/your pronouns, SFW!, fluff, comfort, periods and associated symptoms.

A person’s period might be the most hypocritical moment of their routine. They’re expected to continue moving, working and living their live as normal, all with a smile on their face, while their uterus actively attempts to cut off its own circulation… as if for any other injury or sickness you wouldn’t be expected to lay down and STOP for a moment and allow yourself to heal up, or at least improve enough to not be miserable.

But no. You’re expected to deal with it alone, to not show a reaction, to not be irritable, or groaning and writhing in pain. Take a shower, stock up on painkillers and slap a smile on your face, you’ve gotta go out in the world and act as if you’re not actively dreading every waking moment you spend on your feet.

That’s why you’ve learned to hide it when you’re going through your monthly. Your family, partners… not even your girlfriends know when you’re having it. Ever since you were a young teen, just starting out, it was very much a conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know, sort of moment.

But it’s miserable. You’re always miserable. Everything hurts, the cramps, the headaches, the back pain, hip pain, your sore chest… Plus the blood, the lack of appetite (or increase in appetite), the nausea, the fact you want to cry one moment, or break dishes and scream the next, the way your colleagues annoy you beyond compare, how certain sounds grit your nerves just. enough. to make you feel like you’re losing it… And then you can’t sleep.

And of course… he notices it. How could he not?

Ghost is discreet about it. He doesn’t mention it, doesn’t make a big deal about it… But he’s VERY good at taking care of you without you noticing he’s doing it. His love language is acts of service… So he simply goes around giving you a hand on whatever you might need. Food? Made. Dishes? Done. Laundry? Washed, Dried, Folded and Put Away. He finds you trying to do something? No. Give it here, he’ll do it.

The inevitable day that a leak happens and you find yourself angry at yourself as you strip the bedsheets off the bed, trying to be discreet about it so he doesn’t see it, he silently grabs the sheets off your hands and murmurs a “Go take a shower and change. I’ve got this.” before turning to put the sheets in the washer, clean the mattress and remake the bed so you can lay down again by the time your shower is over. It makes you emotional, sometimes, that such a stoic man will gladly take on every other responsibility to allow you to heal.

Gaz, blessed be him, is an absolute sweetheart… But he’s also a silly boy. He notices and although he’s not going to make a big deal about it, he’s still very… Boyish about it. Uses all the silly names for your period (“The Communists are coming”, “Shark week”,  “Satan’s waterfall”, “Carrie”) and affectionately calls you “My little ketchup packet”. 

He’s all for ordering takeout and getting you whatever you want when and how you want it. He’ll rub your back and be very careful about where and how he touches you. He’s ginger with touches around your waist and lower stomach, looks at you with those big brown eyes of his, as if checking that he’s not hurting you or crossing a boundary. You find yourself getting emotional when he whispers about how strong you are to deal with this every month… Keeps asking gently if you need anything… It makes you feel so safe.

Price’s older. He’s been in many relationships before. He notices your period is coming before it even does… Notices how you’re acting. Jumpier, grumpier, sadder… Notices how you toss and turn the couple of nights leading up to it. And he’s silently prepared. He’s made a supply run to the grocery store to get what brand of period products you use and some painkillers and puts them where you can see them in the bathroom. 

Fills you up with warm herbal tea and food that he knows are easy to digest and help with your state. No fucking chocolate and sugar or potato chips, you’re being pumped full of soups and stews and veggies and cut up fruit. He’ll sit by your side with a paring knife and an apple and slowly peel, core and cut it, before slowly feeding you (and himself) the slices. When you try to resist it, at first, too used to doing things alone, he’ll grab your face with both hands, look into your eyes and tell you. “And why exactly would I let you do that, when you’ve got me here to help you? How does that make sense?”

Soap’s… Well… Soap’s got a bunch of sisters… Each of them dealing with their periods in wildly different ways... So one thing he knows for sure: He’s not about to assume anything. You do what you’ve got to, he’ll adjust to you. He needs to go to the bathroom but you’re in there? Copy that, he’ll go piss in the yard. You’re having a cry in the kitchen because nothing looks good but you’re hungry? Talk it out with him, what do you want to eat? Let’s figure it out together, bonnie. You need to lie down in a dark room because of a migraine or headache or just to catch on sleep you’ve missed? Johnny’s blacked out every window, gathered every stray pillow and blanket in the house and will make you a nest if he’s got to.

And when you wake up in the middle of the night with a whine and a stretch because your back hurts and you’ve got cramps and cannot for the life of you get comfortable, Johnny’s hands are rubbing over you, pressing kisses to your temple and murmuring little “I ken, love… It’ll be over soon… I’m sorry you’re going through this…”

[catt-leya]

I was wondering if you could do an enemies to lovers?? I’m so original, but maybe where they are on a run and get lose, and get into a huge fight because reader says they’re lost, but Rick is too stubborn to admit it:) plzzz and thank you!! Also love your posts btw, the bests toe curling pussy twisting smut I’ve read

Hurts So Good || Rick Grimes 18+ ❣Darker❣

Thank you so much for the request 💗 I LOVE enemies to lovers and I tried to make it up to you 💕

Soooo it's new for me to write Rick that way. Please look into my trigger warnings and I hope there are some people liking it 👉🏼👈🏼💗

Trigger: cnc (?), gun play, breeding, degrading, sir kink, darker Rick yeah he's a warning and my usual smutty stuff

You stuff a blanket in the trunk of the car and listen to your best friend talk about her new boyfriend. 

You love her to death, but since you arrived in Alexandria, she barely talks about anything but Spencer. Spencer this. Spencer that.

Somehow the two of them found each other and actually got together. That has changed your topics of conversation. 

So you grit your teeth and listen to the oh-so-awesome Spencer bring her a bouquet of flowers yesterday.

It's not that you're jealous or anything. 

No, you don't even feel like getting involved with a guy, but you just don't like Spencer and you let him feel that every time.

Now, though, you're a good friend and smile at her, "Sweetie, I gotta go."

Several times she blinks at you, as if she's forgotten why you packed some things in the car behind you, before sighing, "Oh yeah. How long is the run scheduled for?"

You shrug and lean your butt against the car, "I don't know. Rick wasn't sure how long we'd be on the road, so I packed a few things for several days and nights."

She nods slowly and you take a deep breath, "I don't even know where we are going."

You notice her glance sideways past you and know she's looking at Rick, who's a few feet away discussing something with Michonne.

Without looking at you, she says, "I'd really like to go with you."

Surprised, your eyebrows go up. Your best friend is not a person who likes to be out in the outside world. She likes the safety of Alexandria, and that's probably why she fell in love with Spencer.

When she looks at you again, she notices your gaze and shrugs, "Not that I necessarily want to fight walkers. I'm happy to leave that up to you. But I'd just like to see you in a little car with Rick, trying not to go for each other's throats."

You roll your eyes, but can't hold back a grin.

The fact is, you already like Rick just fine, it's just that your kind of 'friendship' is driving each other crazy. 

Much to the sake of everyone else. That's why it's better that it's just the two of you and you can pick each other apart in peace.

You're about to say something back when you hear Rick call out, "Are you done, sweetheart?"

Again you roll your eyes and smile at him sugary sweet, "Whenever you are, sugar bum."

The nickname Rick gave you at the very beginning gets on your nerves and he knows it very well, that's why he calls you by your real name extremely rarely and always teases you with his stupid 'sweetheart'.

The way he pronounces the word with his broad southern accent sometimes makes you blush unintentionally and to cover that you started to give him the strangest nicknames in between. 

As always, he doesn't seem to care and nods goodbye to Michonne, which is your sign to say goodbye to your friend as well.

She frowns, "Sugar bum?"

You bite your lower lip, "I couldn't think of anything else."

She doesn't respond for a moment, until she bursts out laughing, "Oh my God..."

Smiling, you pull her into your arms and murmur, "Take care of yourself" in her ear.

"You take care of yourself, too."

Before you let her go, she whispers softly, "You blushed again, honey. Watch out you don't start drooling if he calls you that again."

Gently, you punch her in the arm and hiss, "I won't."

As she looks you in the face, it feels like she knows more than you do and you have to avert your eyes.

Slowly, you walk around the car and climb into the passenger seat.

You'll have another quick glance at your friend as Rick opens the door to the driver's seat and drops into it.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him push the sleeves of his blue shirt further up and then pull the door shut.

Without a word to you, he shifts into first gear and drives through the open gate.

You suppress a soft sigh and lean your head against the window beside you. 

For a long time you don't speak a word to each other and you think that Rick doesn't want to start a fight as long as you depend on each other beyond all measure.

After a few hours, you exchange positions and he calmly instructs you to follow the road until you come to the next intersection. When you ask him approximately how long that will take, he just mutters, "Long enough, sweetheart."

You stifle a comment that his answer is vague and start up.

Again and again you look over at him out of the corner of your eye and at some point his soft snoring enters your ear.

Unwillingly, you have to smile and now look at him properly.

His head is leaning against the window pane, like yours before, and his arms are crossed in front of his chest.

Although you can't see his eyes, you know they're exactly the same color as his shirt, and because he has those beautiful dark curls, his eyes always seem much brighter in the daylight.

You catch yourself thinking about him way too hard and jerk your head back around to look at the street. 

Again and again you repeat in your head: I don't care how beautiful his eyes are.

For some time you force yourself to look at the road, but eventually you weaken again and look back at the sleeping leader next to you.

He wrinkles his nose slightly in his sleep and you can't help but notice how soft and almost innocent he looks in his sleep. You could easily forget how many people he has already killed with his hands, looking at his soft features now.

Even with the grayish beard, he looks much younger in his sleep and as you catch yourself staring at his pink slightly parted lips, you mutter, "Holy shit."

It's not supposed to be that loud, but immediately Rick slams his eyes open growling, "What's wrong?"

Sleepily, he looks at you and frowns. All softness is gone from his features and you don't even realize you're still staring at him until he grumbles, "Look at the road and not at me."

The fact that he caught you staring at him by your own stupidity, makes you blush and you immediately look back at the road, "Sorry."

Now it's you who feels his gaze on you, praying that he'll just let it go, but hope is in vain, "What happened?"

"Nothing," your voice is a little too high and you hear Rick sigh softly, "Then why were you staring at me like that?"

His snotty question, makes you snap, "I wasn't staring at you, you dumbass."

"So did you strain your neck or what?" he teases. 

He knows for a fact that you were staring at him and now he's going to use it to drive you up the wall, which unfortunately works out just fine, "You were snoring so loud I wanted to make sure you weren't going to use it to attract walkers."

He snorts and you mentally pat yourself on the back.

You can finally get back to focusing on the track ahead of you.

You drive for what seems like an eternity on the road Rick told you about, then ask him, "Are you sure this is the right place? It doesn't look like there's anything here."

You've long since left the housing complexes and now there's nothing here but woods. Not even a small field where you could find crops is visible and you frown, "Rick?"

By the time you look to him, he's pulled out a map too and seeing his lost look, you groan, "You have no idea where we are."

His jaw tenses before he growls, "I know exactly where we are."

You spot a narrow path at the edge of the woods and pull off to stop, then turn in your seat to Rick, "Where are we, Sheriff?"

Vaguely he points to a spot on the map and you lean over to take a look at it too, "You don't think we're anywhere near Atlanta yourself, do you? We should have seen the skyline by now, Rick."

The forest he points to is close to the big city, and when you left Alexandria, you were going in the opposite direction.

But of course Rick wouldn't admit he has no idea which forest you're parked in, "The trees are just so tall we can't see the skyline."

You lean forward some more and your chest brushes his arm, "Why don't you just admit you have no idea where we are and let us out of this damn forest?"

He stiffens a little and then grumbles, "I know where we are."

You groan in annoyance, "Oh Rick." If your breasts weren't touching his upper arm, you wouldn't have even noticed, but he flinches as the words leave your mouth and immediately you blush.

You know what he must be thinking about and then you quickly say, "Swallow your pride and admit that you got us in deep shit."

Rick snorts and turns his head in your direction. 

Because you're still leaning so close to him, his face is suddenly way too close and you slide back into your seat as he growls, "Maybe it's your fault if I couldn't tell you 100% where we are right now."

You laugh out loud because he phrases it as if it's just a possibility and not a fact that he doesn't know what shitty forest you're hanging out in, "My fault? How so? YOU told me to take the road."

He throws the map in the back seat and looks at you with bright eyes, "I told you to go all the way to the intersection. It's not my fault you stared at me for half the drive and probably passed the intersection when you needed to catch your drool."

Staring at him in disbelief, you almost shriek, "You miserable asshole."

You yank open the car door and get out, because if you didn't, you'd rip Rick's head off. 

But instead of leaving you alone, he gets out too and you throw your arms up in the air, "How could I have ever gotten involved in going on a run with you?"

You go back and forth, "If we croak, it's your fault. Only your fault. You got that?"

Rick thrusts his hands on his hips and growls, "Sure, if it makes you happy."

Jerking, you look him in those ridiculously beautiful eyes, "Happy? You know what would make me happy?"

Your voice becomes shrill, "If I wasn't standing in the middle of nowhere with you."

You can see him struggling for self-control and clenching his hands into fists, "We. Are. Not. Lost." Every word is a growl and you turn your back on him, "I'll check the road for a sign so I know where we are if you're too proud for that."

You take a step and he demands, "You stay here."

Laughing in disbelief, you look at him over your shoulder, "Oh yeah? I'm certainly not taking orders from you now."

He takes a step toward you, "Stay here."

At his full height, he towers over you significantly and if he were to reach out, he could touch you. Challengingly you look at him, "Or what, Rick? What are you going to do if I just leave now and let you sit here, huh?"

Something you can't place flashes in his eyes and your eyes lock onto his Adam's apple as he swallows hard.

Suddenly your throat goes dry and instead of just going and leaving like you cockily announced, you stop in front of him and wait for his reaction.

You blame it on the adrenaline in your veins that you suddenly feel the need to reach out and put your hand on his chest. 

To feel his heartbeat beneath your palm.

Your body leans towards him, that's when you hear a crack in the bushes and before you can even react, Rick has already drawn his gun and is aiming at whatever should come out from between the trees.

Groaning, a lone walker emerges from the trees and when Rick doesn't lower his gun, you put your hand on the cold barrel of the gun and press it down a bit: "We can take him."

He doesn't quite lower the gun and looks down at you, breathing heavily.

You give him a weak smile, "Let me do that."

Gently you push the gun down even further and when he finally lowers it, you disengage from him and pull the knife on your thigh.

This one walker gives you no trouble and as he lies dead at your feet, you turn back to Rick who is watching you.

Still holding the gun, he looks to you and you clear your throat quietly, "What, you need to get something off your chest?"

The silence is cutting until he harshly demands, "Come here."

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief, "Haven't we been through this? I don't take orders from you."

His eyes don't leave you for a second as he lifts his chin slightly and hisses, "You come here now, or I'll come to you, and you don't want that. Trust me."

Your whole body screams to move toward him to find out what he wants, but your stubbornness is not so easily put out of action, "Rick-"

The knuckles around his gun turn white, "Now."

The tone in his voice actually makes you walk toward him, and as soon as you're within his reach, he grabs you by the arm and tugs you toward the hood.

His grip is so tight that you struggle against him, suddenly feeling something like panic as you realize you don't stand a chance against Rick.

He pushes you in front of him like a doll and presses your upper body onto the hood.

Panicked, you try to push yourself up with your hands, but his hand is heavy on your back and you flounder helplessly on the hood, "What are you doing? Let go of me!"

Your breathing becomes frantic and you can hardly believe it, but you're actually afraid of Rick.

When you think about how innocently he was sleeping next to you in the car earlier and now he's forcing you to bend over the hood, you feel sick.

You try to take a deep breath and relax as best you can as you murmur as softly as you can, "Let go of me, please."

Never having thought about how strong Rick actually is, you force yourself not to fidget as he takes a step closer behind you and you feel his leg against your thigh.

You barely recognize his voice as he whispers, "Stop talking, sweetheart."

Your heart stops for a moment at your nickname and you have to suppress a soft whimper as you feel his hand on your neck.

He's so...close to you. 

You can barely think straight through fear and what feels like arousal.

Rick can feel your resistance slowly weakening and he dares to loosen his grip on your neck a little. 

When you don't move an inch, he whispers softly, "Good girl."

Shit, he totally digs it when you push up against him. He loves the games you always play when you're teasing each other. He enjoys every minute of it, but after all that shit today, he's had enough.

In fact, he has no idea where you guys are and you having to rub it in his face all the time is driving him nuts.

He sees himself as a pretty controlled man, but as he watched you take out the walker, he couldn't suppress the feeling of finally breaking you for him.

How much he wants you to submit to him is almost laughable.

Quietly, you lie on the hood in front of him and he can't help but look at your pretty ass, which is maddening in those tight jeans.

Rick takes a deep breath and closes his eyes as his cock presses uncomfortably against his pants.

He doesn't really think about it as he rests his gun-holding hand on your soft ass and the cold barrel of the gun slides between your thighs. Roughly you groan and push yourself against him a bit, which surprises you so much yourself that you wince and hope that he hasn't noticed.

The hope quickly disappears as he pulls the barrel a little higher again and you take a loud breath.

Watching your body react is mesmerizing and he stares at your ass, which keeps trying to push against him, "Sweetheart?"

Mortified, you close your eyes and murmur, "Yes, Rick?"

He releases his hand from your neck and briefly you think about straightening up to get away from him, but as his hand reaches around you to grab your pants, your body resists the thought of getting away from Rick's hand and you remain still on the hood, waiting to see what Rick is trying to do.

He turns a little in your direction and instead of his leg, his cock is now pressing against your thigh and he murmurs softly, "Spread your legs."

Your stomach tightens and you do as he says, which makes him laugh harshly, "Oh, when it comes to me touching your pussy, you suddenly do as I say."

It's so incredibly humiliating and you could cry as he pulls your underpants, including panties, down so far that the fabric stretches around your thighs and the cool air hits the embarrassing wetness between your legs.

Almost as if driven by self-preservation, you do try to straighten up, but he quickly pushes you back onto the hood, "Stay down."

These little moments when you seem to be struggling after all turns him on incredibly and he slides a hand between your thighs.

A jolt goes through your body as Rick's fingers brush over your most intimate spot and you hear him moan harshly.

You bite your lower lip as you feel the cool barrel of his gun contrast with his warm fingers on your skin.

He slowly slides the gun in the direction where his fingers linger and immediately you tense, "What are you doing?" You barely recognize your own voice, but you don't care and croak again, "Rick?"

He can literally feel the panic you're feeling, and it's probably completely wrong that that's exactly what's making him harder.

Rick slides the barrel of his gun between your butt cheeks, enjoying the way you flinch as the metal of the gun digs into your soft skin.

He pulls his fingers from your wetness and instead slides his gun between your already swollen labia, "You take what I give you, sweetheart."

You whimper, "You can't be serious."

Firmly he pushes the barrel of the gun an inch inside you, "Does this feel like I'm not serious?"

The barrel is wide and you so damn tight that you feel like he's tearing you apart inch by inch as he slowly pushes it inside you. As he does so, the legitimate thought that the gun is loaded fades completely into the background and all you can feel is the cold thickness penetrating deeper and deeper into you.

Groaning, you squirm and gasp, "It's too big. It hurts."

Your pussy clenches around the barrel and Rick pushes it in a little deeper again, "Does it?"

Whimpering, you nod and look up at him for the first time since he forced you over the hood.

As you look at him with eyes veiled in arousal, his cock twitches and he tilts his head a little, "Why don't you beg me to stop then?"

He pushes the barrel a little deeper into you again and you moan, "Rick..."

It feels so incredibly dirty to be at his mercy like this, and yet you want more.

Pathetically, you try not to tighten around the barrel of the gun again, taking in as much as you can, which doesn't escape Rick's notice, and he grumbles, "Then stop lying and take it like a good girl. All of it."

Trembling, you yip, "Turn me over. I want to look at you while I do it."

He pulls the gun back a little and immediately you miss how deep it was inside you.

"What was that?" 

You can tell by his voice what he wants. 

What he's always wanted. 

For you to beg him.

"Please, turn me around. I'll take anything you give me, but please...I want to look at you while I do it-" Briefly you take a breath "Sir."

Growling, he grabs your waist and reaches around you so he can spin you around so you're sitting on the hood and he can keep the barrel of the gun inside you.

With your lips slightly parted, you watch Rick pull your pants down to your calves and then climb over them so he can stand between the fabric and your body like he's trapped. 

But only you feel like you can barely breathe because he's so close to you and your pussy is still being stretched.

Finally he looks you in the face again and the pure lust in his eyes makes you lean forward and put your lips firmly on his.

Rick grabs your chin with his free hand, pushing the barrel of the gun deeper into you again.

The feeling is so intense that you break the kiss and bite his lower lip to stifle a loud groan.

With his hand on your chin, he forces you to open your mouth and release himself so he can lean in and murmur into your ear as he thrusts into you again, "Do you like that, sweetheart? Do you like me fucking you like a whore with my gun?"

The thought of what he keeps thrusting into you makes you go crazy and you bury your face in the hollow where his shoulder meets his neck to muffle your moans, "Yes, oh god yes..."

You could never tell anyone what you let him do to you and that makes it all that much more wicked.

Your moans vibrate against Rick's hold and he takes his second hand to touch your clit.

It's only a small touch, but your hands tangle in his hair and he continues to tease, "So pathetic."

He knows exactly what he's doing and what he's denying you as you start to move on his hand to get more, but the circles he draws around your clit are too slow and he knows it.

Whimpering, you cry, "Please, Rick...please, sir."

You're so pathetic in his arms that he can't suppress a laugh, "Stop whining."

He's pushed you to the point where you'll do anything for him. 

Anything just so he wouldn't stop.

Trembling, you spread your legs as wide as you can and push your hips closer to him, but his touch remains frustratingly light and gentle, making you cry, "I'm begging you...please...what do you want me to do...I'll do anything..."

He presses a little harder on your clit and your pussy tightens around the gun inside you, "Anything then?"

You jerk your head back to look him pleadingly in the eyes as you whimper, "Anything."

He loves seeing that addiction in your eyes and he tilts his head as he pulls the gun out of your dripping pussy and you moan in protest, "No..."

Rick raises his eyebrows, "First you don't want to and now you do?"

Normally you're eye-to-eye with Rick, but his cocky demeanor makes you shrink into yourself and you whisper, "Please."

His eyes slide over your soft features and flushed cheeks, and he holds the gun shiny from your wetness in front of your face, "Lick it clean."

You hesitate for a second before looking him in the beautiful blue eyes and leaning forward to put the gun in your mouth. At the taste of your own, you roll your eyes and let out a muffled moan before looking back up at him. 

Slowly, you let the gun slide out of your mouth and lick it with your tongue.

Rick can't take his eyes off you even if he wanted to.

The way you lick the gun that took so many lives, as if it were his cock and the most beautiful gift in the world, makes even the last rational thought fizzle out and he hisses, "Unzip my pants."

He sets the gun down next to you on the hood and leans back a bit as you reach for his pants with shaky hands.

His cock pressing against the fabric is hard to miss, and your mouth waters as you think of him replacing the gun that was inside you earlier with his cock now.

You undo his holster, which immediately falls to the floor, and then his belt, which holds his pants low on his hips.

Your heart hammers in your chest and you feel your wetness dripping onto the hood below you.

He watches you undo his pants and then reach for the waistband to pull them down over his ass.

His cock immediately pops out and a low moan escapes you.

Your eyes are fixed firmly on the twitching cock in front of you and your pussy clenches at the sight.

The way you sit there and can't look away is the best thing he's seen in a long time. 

The fact that a few minutes ago you were still resisting and trembling with fear, while now you are begging to be fucked by him is all he can think about.

You are still staring at his cock, when Rick grabs you by the waist and pulls you to the edge of the hood so that his tip presses against your pussy and you look him breathlessly in the eyes, "Please."

You wiggle your ass to somehow get him inside you, but his hands on your hips are firm and unyielding, "Please what, sweetheart?"

He lifts his hips a little and slides his shaft over your wetness, making you moan hoarsely, "Please, sir. Please, please, please."

You've never begged before and never intended to, but right now all you want is for him to have mercy on you and let you wrap your wet walls around him.

He leans in and his lips graze your ear, "Will you do whatever I want you to do?" His accent is wider than usual with arousal and you gasp, "Yes, sir."

Rick presses an inch into you as a reward and growls, "Always?"

Completely will-less, you press your torso against his and whimper, "Yes, sir."

Another inch, "Good girl."

His tongue licks over your neck, "Do you want my cock?"

Moaning, you close your eyes and breathe, "Yes, sir." 

Your voice breaks on the last word and as a reward Rick thrusts his hips forward replacing what was previously the barrel of the gun inside you.

The metal from his gun was cool inside you, whereas his cock twitches hot and heavy inside you, making you almost pass out.

Your hands tighten in the fabric of his shirt to find purchase as he pulls back slightly and then thrusts slowly and deeply into you again.

Gasping, you bury your face against his neck as your pussy clenches around him again and again.

The feel of your wet walls around his cock, makes his heart stop for a moment and a low growl escapes his throat.

You feel so good around his hard cock and every time your pussy tightens around him, it feels like you're just pulling him deeper inside you.

He releases one hand from your hip and uses it to push your hair to the side so he can spread wet kisses on your neck, and you willingly tilt your head to the side to give him more room.

Slowly his thrusts get firmer and faster, causing a smacking sound between your legs that you don't even have to be ashamed of as Rick gasps against your neck, "Fuck, you're so wet for me."

He fucks you so hard you feel like he's rearranging your guts, and you dig your teeth into his neck to stifle a loud moan as he slides his hand between you to press on your clit.

You're already so incredibly sensitive there that you whimper, "I'm about to cum."

His circles around your clit speed up and your whole body is on fire, but he hisses, "No."

You tug at his shirt, "I can't take it anymore."

To torture you, his circles tighten and your legs start to shake. 

You force yourself to work against the orgasm as he thrusts firmly into you, "You'll cum when I tell you to, sweetheart."

Him calling you 'sweetheart' only makes it worse and you try to slide away from him so you can comply with his request and not cum on his cock yet.

But his grip is tight and you're too weak to pull away, "Rick...you have to stop...I can't...oh god..."

Your whole body tenses and tears come to your eyes as you actively fight against your release. 

It's almost sad that you want to make him proud by suppressing your orgasm and he just hisses, "You take what I give you and I swear I'll spank you if you cum without my permission."

Tears roll down your cheeks and you sob, "I can't take it anymore."

His fingers on your clit and his cock in your pussy feels too good and as he growls harshly, "Now." It tears you apart from the inside.

Never in your life have you come so hard and desperate as when pressed against Rick's body.

Your pussy pulses around his hardness and the feel of your tears leaving wet trails down his neck only turns him on more and he can't help but lay claim on you, "Whose pussy is that, sweetheart?"

Your whole body trembles under his grip and you give a long drawn out moan, "Yours, sir."

He rewards you by pulling his head back a little and kissing you hard on the lips and then gasps, "When I've come in your pussy, it's not just mine. Then you're mine."

Your foggy brain only hears that he's going to come inside you and you panic, "Rick...no...not inside me."

He grabs your chin and looks at you questioningly as he keeps fucking you and you whimper, "Please don't."

You look up at him pleading and trembling and his cock twitches inside your pussy wet with cum, making him grumble harshly, "You're shaking from cumming all over my cock and begging me to stop? You don't really want me to stop doing this...you like when I make your little pussy all wet and sticky, huh?"

Your last resistance breaks and you bring a soft "yes" to your lips before he presses his mouth over yours again and his beard scrapes across your chin.

His fingers dig into your hips and you know you'll be carrying away marks tomorrow as he stiffens and moans harshly into your mouth as he comes jerking inside you.

You've never had a man come inside you before and at the warm feeling spreading through your belly as he thrusts his warm cum into you, you whimper against his swollen lips.

You feel him softening inside you and you pull away from the kiss, blinking.

The adrenaline rush slowly wears off and you stare at Rick in disbelief. 

Not only because he did this to you, no, but also because you can't believe yourself that you let him do this to you.

He pulls his cock out of your pussy and you feel his cum mixed with yours dripping onto the hood.

Speechless, you stare at his pretty face as he looks between your legs and slides his hand between them.

He gathers up what's dripping out of you and pushes his fingers, saying, "You are supposed to say 'thank you'." Into your overused pussy.

As if in a trance, you say, "Thank you, sir." And he nods in satisfaction.

Rick surprisingly gently pulls you off the hood and pulls your pants back up over your ass.

You find your own thoughts, "Why did you do that?"

You look so utterly confused that this amuses him deeply and he raises an eyebrow, "What do you mean? That I fucked you or that I put your pants back on?"

He sees you swallow, "The fucking."

Unimpressed, he shrugs, "I wanted you, so I took you. Get used to it."

Speechless, your mouth drops open and he adjusts his own pants as he reaches for his gun on the hood, "We should spend the night here and see where we are in the morning."

You don't even realize he just admitted he doesn't know where you are and can't suppress a whimper as he pulls away from you and walks around the car to the driver's door.

Shit, you're dependent on him. 

Something you never wanted, but you already miss his hands on your body and run after him like a lonely puppy begging him to sit on his lap.

@hail-yourselves  @bean-is-reading  @chanlvr2  @criminalwalkingsupernatural  @sunshinevirus  @toxic-ink  @kingtwhiddleston  @bloodycherry22  @vane28282  @bamslover  @revesephemeres  @emo-potato-virgil  @tropodyn  @mrsashleybarnes18-blog  @igotbasicdrag @starsaroundmyscxrss @moonshine147 @1-800-isabellapotter @starkstiless

(If anyone else would like to be tagged, just let me know 💗)

[shirecorn]

Your reindeer designs give me such childish joy I can't wait to see the rest. What's your process (aka any advice) for designing from scratch with something like just a name or concept?

Redbubble (buy reindeer swag) || Patreon (see all early!) || Ko-fi

See more free tutorials!

You can see my process unfold in real time by joining any tier of my patreon discord. Which doesn't even have to go through patreon! If you want, you can just pay me $20 and let you in for a year (and then lose track and probably keep you anyway)

Here's a preview using comet! (nevermind the preview thing I wrote you a whole lecture lol)

initial sketches in 2021:

Revisited in 2022 and 2023

I was constantly asking which design was the weakest, why, and how to fix it. Whenever I tested without the magical comet behind it, people could only guess who comet was by process of elimination.

I didn't want to rely on throwing icons into the design. I wanted each one to communicate through shape and silhouette alone. It would be like drawing a little cherub with a bow and arrow floating along with cupid. If you have to include a nametag to communicate, your design can be improved.

So I tried a few different strategies to say "comet" before I realized I could twist the antlers into any shape I wanted. I was worried I would have to discard the drawing and restart from scratch! Which is what I did for rudolph about 6 times before I had a breakthrough.

Then I gave my patrons a brief lesson in antlers to explain where and why I was placing the tines. When I stray from the caribou structure, I do so knowingly in order to achieve something that cannot be achieved within the caribou shape, like dancer's tutu. Know the rules before you break them. My goal is to make animal nerds (myself chief among them) happy when they see species-specific anatomy instead of cop outs.

I tried a few things before figuring out antlers could become comet

Another thing that often caribou have is an unsymmetrical "spork" that comes forward off only one antler. I figured this out by looking at hundreds of reindeer pictures and saving them to my reference folder. A few of my designs have this, that's what the little spiral is in the final comet antler design.

When I put comet in my lineup, I realized that the antlers I drew were way more stylized, chunky, and "tribal" than the others. I had already changed the proportions on one of my designs to match, so then I had to hack away at the basic comet rack to make it look natural.

I already knew that comet's colors would be easy because a basic reindeer already Has the big comet on the shoulder. But here's a peak at all the reindeer images I posted for my patrons to look at.

As you can see below, I chose reindeer markings for all my designs instead of other deer or animals. Even vixen is tied to actually possible reindeer patterns rather than copy-pasting a fox. Almost all of my designs have light-colored anklets on dark colored legs, which is very common with caribou of any color. This is the sort of thing no one tells you; you have to observe it yourself.

Ft cupid's early design! I was continually testing out my reindeer silhouettes and colors on new people, taking their feedback, and fixing what wasn't clicking.

I know I could have made vixen sexy and curvy to play into a recognizable trope, but I really wanted them to be scary and fox-like. Sometimes you gotta do what you want and not what you think will appeal to audiences. Reindeer Days is a purposeful exercise in audience resonance. Most of my art is 100% me and what I feel like doing with no regards to anyone else. So it was a fun challenge!

My patrons also got to see me making fun of corporate designs for recognizably/cliches at the expense of literally anything good

One of these is going to get a lot more "that must be vixen!" results from people who aren't constantly thinking about animal colors, markings, hunting strategies, and teeth.

And one rocks.

Vixen changed the least from the initial 2021 concept!

A Vixen is a female fox. In english slang, it means a cunning, fierce human woman, and sometimes sexually attractive or promiscuous. Quite often an insult to someone because she won't date you!

But to me, a vixen is an animal. A predator.

When designing to reference something, I like to hit it at multiple angles, referencing obscure trivia about something to delight and educate. This is done by researching a topic deeply, far below surface level and beyond what you think you need to make your design. Or in my case its just knowing a bunch of animal trivia already.

After researching/dredging your knowledge, sit there and Think. Don't draw anything. Come up with several ideas and then throw them all in at once for the ultimate trivia design.

Trivia about red foxes:

They have Long bushy tails

They have teeth that include large sharp canines, flat incisors, triangular premolars, and chunky molars with points on them that slide scissor-like with the molars above to cut meat via chewing

They hunt rodents in burrows under the snow by jumping into the air, arcing, and slamming down with their face through the snow

They are orange

They have a dark vertical stripe on their snout

They have black legs, with the backs and bottoms being orange

Translated into the design:

Pose based on a fox jumping, about to land in the snow

Antlers twisted to resemble teeth

Long (for a reindeer) bushy tail

black mark on snout

Some adjustment to the pose to be at the top of the arc and flow better.

Tinkering with the design to make it recognizable but not 100% copypasta fox

I was finally happy with a design that absolutely showed "fox" while still being creative and plausibly caribou shaped. This would absolutely communicate who it is! I thought!

The most obvious one of the bunch! After all, everyone knows what a vixen is!

Nope! No they do not

Want to be part of the design process, help me with WIPs months before everyone else, see exclusive doodles every day, and join a funky little community?

(you also get to see photos of my dog)

Connect your discord to your patreon and join any tier to automatically get added to the server. Not a fan of patreon or monthly subscriptions? message me here, on ko-fi, or via email (shirecorn.art@ gmail.com) and ask if you can pay $20 to get put in the server for at least a year and longer if we work it out later!

This was supposed to be a preview to get you to pay me but instead I wrote an entire lecture for free because I can't help myself.

Want to thank me for the free info? Tag me when you use what you learned! Comment and give feedback! If I could pay rent with attention I would never need anything else in life.

You can also thank me by tipping my ko-fi! I use it to buy pens since I die if I have caffeine. But could you imagine??

[ghouljams]

I'll get back to cowboy!ghost shortly, but I gotta get my fae!ghost thoughts out because the horror of him is scratching an itch. Also this is kinda long, so I'm popping it under a read more.

He lets you go after a week or so. Usually when he catches a heart he doesn't waste time eating it but something about you grows on him. He almost feels bad wiping your brain, especially when you start losing the good bits, and realizes he wants to get his hooks in you the proper way. So he gives you back to yourself and just wipes your time with him. Puts you on the street near your house and watches as you're picked up by a concerned cop.

You've lost a solid week or so of time, can't remember shit past going out with your friends, can't even remember leaving the bar. You go through rounds of questioning with the police, both of you growing more frustrated with your lack of memories. When they finally let you go your skin is buzzing with... something.

You feel out of place, like you fit into your skin just a little to the left of where you should. There's this itch on your back you just can't scratch and it feels like it's growing. You feel watched, you find yourself looking over your shoulder as you walk through the city. On edge, waiting for some other shoe to drop, but you have no clue why or what you're waiting for.

It takes a month or so to finally feel like you're right in your body again, for you to stop looking over your shoulder, but the feeling of being watched doesn't go away. And now you find strangers on the street watching you too, wide watchful eyes that don't seem to look at you but through you, at the itch. Sometimes when you catch your reflection out of the corner of your eye you can almost see it, the thing that creeps around your neck, the ghost that seems to be following you. Always gone when you try to get a good look. You're getting your morning coffee when everything feels like it snaps back into place.

Ghost's been watching you, learning your habits, watching you wear that gorgeous heart of yours on your sleeve. He's glad he left his mark on you before he let you go, swirling black shadows just under human perception, twisting his name against your very bones for the other fae of the city to know you're his. Now though, he's having too much fun hunting you. Too much fun keeping you on edge, watching you inspect your skin in the mirror where he knows his claim is. You're so cute when you're clueless.

You're getting your morning coffee when he finally makes his move. You struggle to find your usual card in your wallet and he reaches past you with a crisp bill between his fingers to pay for you. When you thank him, his smile is so familiar and yet it makes your blood run cold. There's a slight pain in your chest as he tells you it's his pleasure.

But that's alright the first hook always hurts. He's got plenty more to sink into you too, you'll have to get used to it eventually.

[thetriumphantpanda]

congrats on 1k, angel!!! 💙 so soo proud of you!

whew okay, so the way i debated between wayyy too many things for your celebration because options 😵‍💫 but we're goin with mirror sex and breath play, ily ty

Bea, I love you. Thank you so much for your kind words - I'm grateful to call you a friend! And thank you so much for your request - mirror sex and breath play with Joel Miller coming right up. I hope you love it - it's a little different to what I'd normally go for, so I'm nervous to share it, but here we go!

Pairing | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Word Count | 2k

Warnings | Explicit. 18+, Minors DNI. So, obviously we have breath play and mirror sex, there's some dirty talk, soft!Joel, some body insecurity from reader too.

Part of my 1k Smut Sensation Celebration - if you want in, check here for details - I’m accepting requests through July 15th.

You sigh as you take in your appearance in the bedroom mirror. There was no shying away from the fact that these past months in Jackson had changed your body. No longer scrounging for twenty-year-old cans of food or going days without eating just to make sure Ellie had enough. Here there was an abundance of everything. The warm stews from the mess hall, the fresh produce you cooked in your home, the barbecue food that would sometimes appear at The Tipsy Bison, it was all having an effect. 

You’d tried to ignore the pinching of your waistband all day, had even popped the button at lunchtime and not bothered to do it back up until you have to walk back home, but as you lifted the hem of your shirt, Joel’s shirt, you could see the red lines the material had made on your skin. Doubt started to fill your mind. He’d stuck around through thick and thin with you, been there on your darkest days, and you on his, had seen your body go through far more than gaining a little weight, and still never left, but this place was different. 

You couldn’t help but think about all the women here, captivated by the broad, mysterious new man who kept to himself. You heard them whispering in the bar about everything they’d like to do to him if only he’d give them a chance. Whether they noticed you listening in or not, it didn’t matter, you knew if Joel ever tired of you, he’d have the pick of the bunch. 

You can feel the tears building behind your eyes, willing yourself to swallow them down before you lose control, when you feel that familiar, strong pair of arms encircle your waist. Automatically you mold into his frame, letting him nuzzle into the crook of your neck, he’s an observant man though, he knows something is wrong. 

“What’s wrong, sugar?” You’ll never tire of that Southern drawl in your ear. 

“It’s stupid.” You mumble, trying to turn in his arms, he’s keeping you exactly where you are though. 

“Ain’t stupid if you’re upset,” He presses the softest of kisses to your cheek, “Tell me.” 

“Jeans don’t fit.” You murmur, hoping that he won’t force you to repeat it, forgetting that he is actually pretty deaf these days. 

“Huh?” Yep. Deaf as a doornail. 

“I said,” You clear your throat, tears threatening to spill again, “My jeans don’t fit anymore.” 

You can feel his breath exhaling deeply through his nostrils once he hears you, his arms bringing you closer, fitting tighter around your middle. 

“That ain’t a bad thing, baby,” He muses, kissing the soft skin behind your ear, “Mean’s you’re alive, mean’s we’re livin’, properly now.” 

“I know,” You whine, wriggling your body to try and get him to change the subject, “I just….” 

“Just what?” He’s kissing down your neck now, “You gotta tell me what’s wrong, baby, else I can’t help.” 

“Worried,” You sigh, mainly from frustration, but also from the sensation of his hot mouth on your skin, “Worried you won’t like me anymore.” 

He movement of his mouth stops dead, pulling away from you, but keeping his arm tight around your middle, “Did I just hear you right, baby?” He asks, “Worried I won’t like you anymore?” 

You nod silently, meeting his eyes in the mirror. He’s watching you intently in the reflection, taking one of his big palms from your middle to take your chin in his grip, “Look at yourself,” He commands, “You don’t see what I see?” 

“I guess not?” You shrug, not being able to shake your head through his grip on your chin. 

“Sugar,” He breathes, “I could never not want this face,” He’s let go of your chin and is instead trailing his fingers lightly over your cheeks, “The way your cheeks have gone plump, and that little dimple you get here,” He presses his finger right where he’s talking about, “Whenever you smile, you drive me crazy baby.” 

Then he’s letting his other arm drop from your middle, placing a hand on either of your shoulders, teasing his fingers lightly down the skin of your arms until your flesh is erupting in goosebumps, even through the material of his flannel that you’re wearing. Once he’s trailed his hands back up to your shoulders, he’s unbuttoning the shirt, slowly but surely, and then dragging it off your frame, leaving you in just your bra and jeans. 

This is the sight you hate. The way your tummy spills over the top of the waistband, the way the bra is definitely too small to comfortably do up in the back, causing little rolls of skin to spear, bunching around the material. 

“Stop thinkin’ and listen to me,” He murmurs, back at your ear now, hands reaching around you to cup your breasts through your bra, “Always loved these,” His hot mouth is back to pressing kisses on the skin behind your ear, “Ain’t ever gonna complain about them getting bigger.” He’s firm in his squeeze which has you tipping your head back, pushing your chest further into his palms, but he’s already moving on. 

His fingertips are gently running down your sides and over the curve of your waist, your body jolting when his touch borders on tickling, until he’s reaching around and undoing the button of your jeans and pulling the zipper down. There’s an instant relief, but you can see those damn red marks again. 

“You see this?” He’s looking at you in the mirror again, urging your eyes to look at his hands where they are on your hips, “My favourite place to rest my hands, when I’m grabbin’ you in the kitchen to move you outta the way, or helpin’ you bounce on my cock.” 

The utter filth mixed with the sweet sentiment have arousal pooling between your legs, you can already feel the need to rub your thighs together for a second of relief. You always wonders how he does this – takes the things you think are your biggest flaws and makes them seem so insignificant, but in the best way possible. 

His hands skin the waistband of your jeans, hands slipping beneath the denim to grip the globes of your ass, “Do I need to say anythin’ about this, baby?” He asks, “Think you know exactly what I think about this peach.” 

He’s right. You know it’s always been one of his favourite parts of you. The way his eyes would trail over you when you bent over when you were out on the road. The way he pulled at your hips to pull you closer into his body whenever he slept behind you. The way he would bring a hard palm down on the skin when he was fucking into you from behind or give it a playful swat whenever he walked past. The way he would grip onto it, much like he was now, when he would kiss you. He needn’t elaborate this time. 

He shucks your jeans and underwear down to your ankles, guiding you to step out of them, before he makes quick work of unclipping your bra. You’re fully naked now, a sight you don’t think you’ve seen from yourself in many years. You want to shy away from it, want to pick apart the scars across your body, the added weight to your thighs and stomach. But when Joel is stood behind you, looking into your eyes in the mirror like he just won the lottery, it all inconsequential. None of it matters anymore. Because he was right. This means you’re alive, and you’re happy. You’ve got the man you always wanted to worship the ground you walk on. So what if you needed to go to the outfitters tomorrow for a new pair of jeans?

You meet Joel’s eyes in the reflection, noticing how your own eyes darken with lust at the same time his do, “You’re wearing far too many clothes, Joel Miller.” You whisper, voice low and husky. 

You place a palm on the glass, leaning yourself forward. Your ass presses only momentarily into his crotch, before he’s pulling away and practically ripping his own clothes off. He’s naked and behind you in what feels like seconds. His calloused fingers are reaching around and slipping through your folds, dipping down to your entrance, where he finds you slick. 

“Mama…..” He breathes, the term of endearment making you blush, “So wet and ready for me.” 

“Always Joel.” You breathe as he brings those soaked fingers up to play with your clit.

You push yourself back into him, chasing his thick cock. You’re aching for him, always are. 

“Look at yourself,” He’s saying, “Watch yourself when I give you my cock.” 

You do exactly as he says, eyes on your own in the reflection as you feel him line himself up with your slick sex. 

“I’ll spend the rest of my life tellin’ you just how beautiful I think you are, sugar,” He says, hand resting at your throat as he slides his cock into your aching cunt, “Gonna love you regardless of how many new pairs of jeans you might need, you hear me?”

You don’t answer straight away, overwhelmed as always by the way he’s stretching you open as he works himself into your pussy to the hilt. You’d never watched yourself like this and it’s almost like you’re having an out of body experience. You know the girl in front of you, with her mouth hanging open and her eyes glazed over is you and you know the man grunting behind you with his cock finally sheathed in your cunt is Joel, but it doesn’t seem real somehow. 

“Gotta answer me baby,” He speaks as he draws his cock from you almost all the way, “Only gonna give it to you if you answer.” 

“Yes Joel…” You whine, and you’re rewarded with his cock slamming back into you. 

He sets that pace, one hand pressed firmly at your pussy, working at your clit, the other at the base of your throat where he squeezes every now and then. You’ve seen Joel in a thousand circumstances where he’s had his hand around someone’s throat before. None of them have ever ended well for the other party. He could snap you in half like a twig if he wanted, but the way he rests his hand, squeezing just enough to cut your air for seconds before he releases, does nothing but thrill you. It sends shocks down your spine, straight to your pussy. You can feel how wet you are, you can hear it as he stuffs you with his length. 

You can see him in the mirror, and the visual is obscene. His teeth sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, the way his eyes are focused on the place where you’re joined together. You’re reveling in watching his fingers work your clit and you can feel that telltale coil in your belly start to unravel.  

“Joel – fuck – don’t stop, I’m gonna….” 

“Watch yourself,” He demands again, squeezing the hand at your throat, tilting your chin ever-so-slightly so you’re watching, his fingers rub a few more times over your clit before you’re letting go, “See how fucking pretty you look when I make you come, baby?” 

There are no words at this point. Your legs are threatening to fail you, all you can feel is the way he’s hitting that sweet spot inside of you, repeatedly. All you can hear is his skin slapping against yours, your moans and groans combining. Then, just like he always does in this position, he’s pulling himself from your clenching walls and fisting his own cock. You hear him first, the low growl you’ve come to know and love, then you feel it, the warm ropes of cum spilling over the cheeks of your ass and dripping down your thighs. 

You’re both quiet for a moment, respectively trying to catch your breath, before he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and dragging you backwards to the bed. He throws you down on the sheets, a surprise yelp leaving your mouth. 

“Joel, the sheets!” You exclaim, “We just changed them, now they’re going to be covered.” 

“Don’t care,” He grumbles, dropping to his knees in front of you, dragging you forward by an ankle, “Wanna eat this perfect pussy, make you forget everything, so all you’ll know is my name and what this mouth feels like.”  

[fishsticksloser]

hello!! I'm starving for more x male readers 💔💔 I was wondering if I could request leo X male reader? basically the reader is overwhelmed with school. He's usually ambitious with his grades but lately he's been feeling burnout. So leo offers him some cuddles and fluff to relieve the readers stress and i think it would be very cute <33 especially if the reader is touch starved!!

I've Got You

Leo x male!reader

Warnings: stressed reader, comfort, fluff, kisses, post movie

A/N: Could technically be gn!reader. My break starts in 2 days and I'm stressing about completing all the requests I have before then... I'm also gonna lose my mind if someone tells me to rest...

Leo sits in his bed, casually reading a comic when you come in. He looks up, smiling when he sees you come in. His smile falters seeing your tired expression. He sets his comic aside, patting the space next to him. "What's up?" He asks softly as you drop your backpack next to the door.

"College... Work... I've done like nothing else for months." You pout, turning your head to look at him. "I'm so tired..." You walk farther into the room, plopping onto the bed next to him.

Leo glanced over at you, concern etched on his face. He could see the exhaustion in your eyes, and it reminded him of the countless sleepless nights he had from his nightmares following the invasion. He sighed heavily, his voice tinged with a mix of empathy and weariness. "I get it, babe. Life can be a real drain sometimes. But you gotta keep pushing through. You're stronger than you think."

He reached over and ruffled your hair gently, a small gesture of affection. "You've been working hard, and I'm proud of you. But remember to take care of yourself too." Leo leaned back against the headboard and pillows. He turned his head to face you fully, his eyes searching yours. "So, tell me, what's been keeping you up at night? College stress? Work deadlines? Or is it something else?"

"Everything... I've been working so hard and I feel like I have nothing to show for it." You sigh, laying your head on his shoulder. "I wish I had a break."

Leo let out a sympathetic sigh, his arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders in a comforting gesture. The weight of responsibility can be crushing, and he knew firsthand how it could wear down even the strongest of individuals. "I know, amour," Leo murmured softly, his voice filled with understanding. "Sometimes it feels like you're running on empty, like all your efforts aren't making a damn difference. But trust me, it's not about the immediate results. It's about the journey, the growth along the way."

He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze, his voice filled with a mixture of reassurance and wisdom. "You're doin' great, even if it doesn't feel like it right now. Take a moment to breathe, to rest, and to remind yourself why you're doing all this in the first place. And hey, if you need a break, I'm here for you. We could use some quality time together, huh?" A playful grin tugged at the corner of Leo's lips as he nudged you lightly. "Maybe we could even plan a little getaway, just the two of us. Somewhere quiet, away from the chaos. How does that sound?"

"That would be nice..." You hum softly, taking one of his hands and tracing his fingers and palm. Leo's heart skipped a beat as you traced your fingers along his hand. He couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth and affection stir within him. The gentle touch and the prospect of spending quality time with you ignited a spark of excitement in his eyes. "Won't be able to that until summer break though..."

"Summer, huh?" Leo mused, his voice laced with a hint of mischief. "Well, I suppose it'll give us something to look forward to, won't it? We can plan something special, make sure it's a break worth waiting for." He shifted slightly, turning his body to face you more directly, his eyes locked onto yours. "But in the meantime, we can still find ways to unwind and enjoy each other's company, right here, right now. What do ya say? How 'bout a little relaxation to take the edge off?" Leo's hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin tenderly. "I can give you a massage, help you ease those tensions away. Or we can just cuddle up and watch a movie together. Whatever you need. I'm here for you."

"Is all of the above an option?" You ask softly, your tone a bit playful, leaning into his touch. You close your eyes, sighing in relief.

A soft chuckle escaped Leo's lips as he gazed at you, his eyes filled with affection. "Sweetheart, you know me, I'm always up for a challenge. All of the above it is."

He shifted on the bed, making room for you to lie down comfortably. With gentle yet firm hands, he began to knead the tension from your shoulders and neck, his touch expertly skilled from years of medical training and self-care. His fingers worked their magic, applying just the right amount of pressure to ease the knots and knots of stress that had built up within you.

As he continued the massage, Leo's voice carried a soothing tone, his words laced with care. "Just relax, amour. Let go of all the worries and responsibilities for now. This time is for you, to recharge and find some peace."

With each stroke and caress, Leo's touch conveyed not only a desire to alleviate your physical tension but also a deep-rooted affection. He wanted to show you that you were valued, cherished, and deserving of this moment of respite.

Once he felt the knots begin to loosen, Leo moved to lie beside you on the bed, pulling you gently into his arms. He wrapped his arms around your waist, his body providing a sense of security and warmth. With the TV playing in the background, he held you close, content in the simple act of being together.

As his lips brushed against your forehead, Leo whispered softly, his voice filled with tenderness. "You're doing amazing. I know it's tough, but you're stronger than you realize. And I'm right here with you, every step of the way."

"I know... I need to learn to lean on others a bit more... But... I'm glad your here. I dunno what I would do without you." You mumble, your fingers tracing over his facial features, especially the red bananas around his eyes.

Leo's eyes softened as he listened to your words, his heart swelling with a mix of gratitude and affection. He understood the struggle of wanting to be self-reliant, to carry the weight of the world on your own shoulders. But he also knew the importance of leaning on others, of allowing them to support you in times of need.

"I'm glad I'm here too, baby," Leo whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "You don't have to do it all alone. We're a team, and that means we're there for each other, no matter what. So lean on me, I've got your back." His hand caressed your cheek, his thumb gently tracing the outline of your lips. His gaze met yours, filled with an unspoken promise. "I'll be by your side, through the highs and lows, the ups and downs. You can always count on me."

Leo's lips met yours in a tender kiss, a mixture of love and reassurance. In that moment, he hoped to convey just how much you meant to him, how deeply he cared for you. Breaking the kiss, Leo leaned his forehead against yours, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're important to me, sweetheart. Never forget that."

[callsignhood]

Would König be with a overweight/chubby girl?

TW: Anxiety on body and appearance

Also I didn’t proofread anything lol

Of course, why not? He’s just grateful of you to be here with him. He doesn’t really care about how your body looks like. Doesn’t matter if you have scars or body hair or a lil’ tummy. He’ll be fucking pissed if someone ever said something mean about your face or body.

But he’d be worried if you are worrying about yourself.

💕Gender neutral Y/N stressed out with weight

He will support you if you’re dieting or exercising. As long as you seem happy and enjoying it, he will cheer you up and help you achieving your goal. But if you’re stressing out about overtaking or missing calories, or if you’re exercising beyond your usual sets, he will stop you and have a time-out cuddling session together.

“Hey, look at me.” König holds you on his lap with a firm hug, trying to make eye contact with an ordering tone, then regrets of letting his military habits slip through — “please?” He adds. You lift your head a little, just to meet with his worrying blue eyes. He hates to see you hurting yourself like this. He’s afraid to lose you.

His hands slides on your back, slowly down to your waist to feel your body, and letting you feel him. He kisses your temple once then twice, holding you just a little tighter. “I can take you on a date and we can have a cheat day. Just slow down for a while. Ja? Because you’re not calories or numbers, you are you.”

He closes his eyes while you both feel the warmth of each other. Comforting and familiar. “It’s gonna be okay.”

💕F Y/N struggling with makeup

You’re trying to look good for him, but you’re struggling with makeup today. Those perfect faces on your Instagram and TikTok are slowly dragging you down to insecurity. You find your eyeliner looks not symmetrical, eyebrows are not sharp enough, even the lipgloss colour is kinda weird. König notices your silent frustration, and he sits beside you.

You look back at him, trying to conceal your sadness, but he always knows what you’re thinking about. He doesn’t quite understand anything about makeup, but he focuses on your face for a short moment, staring at your eyeshadow and your lashes, then gives you a smile. “You look pretty, Süße.”

He sucks at giving compliments on makeup. They might be bland and boring, but he really wants you to find the confidence in yourself. “Your — uh… your lashes are cute. They are very long today.” He struggles to tame his tongue, trying very hard to find some fancy words to cheer you up — and it makes you laugh. “They are long because they are fake lashes, König.”

“Ah.” He nods, stares at your eyes for a little longer before looking down at your palettes. He picks up one of them, opening the lid and speaking softly. “I know you put them on for a reason. But you know that I’m not canceling the date even if you fell in the shower and looked like a wet cat.” He turns his gaze back on you with a grin, hoping his joke will lighten your stress. And it sure did.

You roll your eyes at him and snatch back the palette from his hand. “I’m too pretty to be a wet cat, excuse you.” He chuckles and gives a kiss on your hair. “Ja, Schatz. Always pretty.”

💕M Y/N feeling down about body size

You sigh at the mirror. You find yourself not muscular enough, and sometimes you want to let König feel he’s protected, just like what he does to you. He’s massive and built like a brick wall, you sure find that attractive as hell, but it made you worry a little bit too much.

König sneakily walks up from behind and wraps his arms around you, giving you a kiss on the cheek. “You’re staring at yourself again.” He gently sways you away from the mirror, then falls on the bed, with his body being your mattress. He smiles, putting a hand on the back of your head, trying to keep you laying on him. “I gotta say, you have the perfect huggable size.” You let out a slight chuckle. You can hear his voice vibrating through his chest. “You don’t have to change, you’re more than okay to me.”

If you shake your head to disagree, he will use his hand to massage the back of your neck, staying silent for a bit before suggesting something. “Well… you can join me during my morning jogs. Only if you could wake up at 6.” He laughs. He’s not being sarcastic or mean by saying that, he’s just trying to drag you out from anxiety. “You can be however you want to be. I’m here with you.”

[sorencd]

hey hannah! hope you're well <3 could you write about having a study session with charlie dalton? im studying rn and i cant stop thinking about him lol

LOVING IS EASY

pairing: charlie dalton x reader

word count: 0.7k

a/n: hii anon! here u go :) GOOD LUCK WITH UR STUDYING BBY MWAMWAS

masterlist

charlie knows where the extent of his intelligence is. he wasn't as much of a genius as meeks but he wasn't dumb either. he only felt the need to study when it was really necessary. mostly, he'd rather spend his time with you, the other poets, or playing the saxophone.

when he met you though, he's come to love studying more and more. he loves lying on your carpet on the ground beside you with a bunch of textbooks sprawled out in front of you. he adored the little snacks your mom would bring in the middle of your studying with a grin on her face, saying you'll accomplish more with a full stomach. he always liked staying at your place more than his. besides, your dad's starting to like him.

sometimes, when you’re helping him find the answer to a seemingly impossible maths problem that’s stumping the both of you, he'd opt to stare at you instead of focusing on the task at hand. he’d watch you chew on your pen, angrily ramble about how it all makes no sense, scribble formulas that he’s sure aren’t the right ones, and listen to how pretty your voice sounds. he’d ease his cheeks into his arms that were crossed on the floor and nod his head to everything you’d say, occasionally flipping the pages to put on the guise of knowing what you’re talking about. he knows by the end of the day, he’ll distract you and avoid you two from achieving anything.

while you were busy marking your latin notes to their respective places, and to give charlie an easier time reading it all when he needs to, you heard a soft thump! to your right. charlie, whom you thought was also doing the same thing you were, at least was doing the same thing, had now decided to slump further onto the carpet. ‘that’s gotta hurt.’ you wondered, slightly wincing before poking his cheek. his brain was getting fried from all this studying.

“i don’t understand how this could possibly be used in the future. when will i ever say ‘quid est tempestas hodie?’” he whined. you do have to agree, when will you use latin? you shrugged and just guessed it would come in handy one day.

“don’t be like that! latin is fun! imagine how many swear words you could say and no one outside of welton would understand you.”

“then what’s the point? most of the people i want to say ‘stercore manducare’ to is from hellton.” 

“it can’t be that bad!”

“enroll and find out then, it’ll make me very happy if you do that.” he batted his eyelashes and puckered his lips, his face contorted into a silly expression, making smooching sounds to your dismay.

you giggled and pushed him away in a joking matter, “stop, you’re making me lose focus!”

charlie feigned hurt as he let out a huff, turning to lie on his back and raised a hand to his forehead. “the world is treating me bad, misery! my darling has finally cracked and can now ignore the un-ignorable me!” it was like he was reciting a poem. it always made you laugh whenever he did that. his sudden outbursts of poetical literacy always successfully being able to lift up your spirits.

“i’m getting sick of the floor, let’s study in bed instead! it’ll help us think better.” he cheekily proclaims, trying his best to persuade you. it didn’t take much convincing for him to get you to do anything. how could you ever pass up any opportunity with charlie? so inevitably, you would give in and you’d end up in bed, supposedly studying with a textbook in between your blanket covered legs. you could already see yourself waking up only to realise that you fell asleep. with charlie spooning you and your notes haphazardly scattered onto the floor.

you continued jotting down useful information both you and charlie could use when examination arrives, and he continued admiring you trying to write down on an uneven surface. it didn’t take long for charlie to realise that in every version he imagined himself as, he saw you in each one. he loved being nuwanda with you. because with you, loving is easy.

© sorencd . 2023 ─ do not copy, repost, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[ad0rebrial]

SF-GANG dating(sep) or being friends with popular fem reader? ❤️

🌸SAL FISHER🌸

Sally ain’t that type of person who is popular. He has been seen as anything but popular throughout his life and the only time where he’s actually been “popular” was..bullying. This is obviously very new to him since he finds himself in a state of denial, insecurity, and also Jealousy.

Sal is in denial that you truly love him for who he is. He has been showed the ropes of people faking to befriend him and all these people were most likely popular through their actions. He worries that may happen with you as well even though he is actually attracted to you.

We cannot forget the major insecurities Sal carrie’s on his shoulders all throughout his life. He is also scared of you seeing his face because he doesn’t want to loose you over that. He wants to be seen as attractive in your eyes even though it’s not all true for him.

List of people know you! That’s good that many people know who you are but he gets jealous that so many people do. He wants to be the only one to know you and he knows that it’s very selfish of him to think that way but he can’t help it! Just reassure him that it doesn’t matter how much people adore you because he’ll always be the first.

🌸LARRY JOHNSON🌸

Larry wouldn’t think that he is the most attractive person in the world but he is head over heels for you! He would consider himself as very lucky to have a girlfriend like you in his life despite his flaws. Larry isn’t as open to his worries with the fact that the two of you are in a relationship but he does feel like he has some competition…The thought runs through his mind, wondering if you found someone who was much more appealing than him that you would break up with him and run to that certain someone.

If someone is able to make you laugh more, smile more, compliment you more, or anything— he will automatically worry about it. Even he gets paranoid around his own friends about this issue. He doesn’t want to lose you. He loves you deeply and he doesn’t want you to fall for someone else and leave him just like that. He would much prefer you to leave him over his hardheaded personality than you finding someone who is much more than a Sanity Falls geek.

Larry is quick to defend you when someone is mischaracterizing you. He gets that popular people can be assholes sometimes but people gotta learn how to separate the bad from the good. He wants people to see that you aren’t one of those bratty, daddy’s money popular girls that they see in all those movies because you are way better than that. He can see that it upsets you when people portrait you as someone your not so he will try his best to make sure that people see you as someone sweet.

🌸ASHLEY CAMPBELL🌸

Ash used to find your popularity to be pretty intimidating before you two were dating. You just looked so scary but so pretty at the same time! She finds herself staring at you in awe as people crowd around you. and you laugh along with your friends, cursing herself for not gaining the confidence to walk up to you and strike up her own conversation freely. She simply had a HUGE crush on the popular girl!

When the two of you finally got together Ash was so thrilled. She loved you so much and would do many things with you such as shopping, going out to a small coffee shop, hanging out on the daily, and so much more that included the two of you. The two of you were very open about the fact that you two are dating and that made her more happy knowing that you were also in on letting everyone know that your heart was all for her, beating for her.

However, she did realize that due to this relationship you lost some of your friends. They didn’t find it appealing that you were dating a girl while also being a girl yourself but you just shrugged your shoulders and allowed them to slip away from you because your “friends” aren’t your biggest issue. When one of them called off the friendship right there in front of Ash she was shocked to see how you just nodded your head and dragged Ash alongside you. You did not care one bit that you lost a couple of hours friends all because of the disapproval of your relationship. Why should that affect you anyway? That just made Ash love you even more and made her feel good about herself.

🌸TODD MORRISON🌸

(Reader will be seen as a male in this certain part since I don’t want to erase Todd’s homosexuality!)

Todd is a pretty nerdy guy. He isn’t popular or anything like that—not as much as on your level of course. But somehow you loved him just for who he was and Todd loved you just as you are as well. He loves you deeply even though you two are polar opposites! Todd enjoys having a boyfriend who’s the complete opposite of him because now he has room to run his mouth about his hobbies and also teach you a thing or two about them. He loves to go on and on about these things that interest him with you because you’d just sit there and add onto it and listen to his thoughts.

Todd doesn’t really have any personal insecurities about himself that he needs to worry about with you. Todd is comfortable knowing that you won’t ever break up with him over this because you also share your own insecurities about yourself and he supports you through them. He also doesn’t have to stress over you leaving him for someone else because your heart beats for him and him only. Everyone else just likes you for your looks while Todd loves you for everything about you!

He just wants to do everything with you. He wants to have sleepovers, go out to eat, hang out, hold hands, and so much more with you because in Todd’s eyes you are perfect. You make him feel alive and better about himself and that’s what he needs in his life.

[queenoftheantz]

Top 5 Anime/Manga characters of all time and why?

oh wow hmmm....

Completely subjectively:

Oikawa Tooru (haikyuu!!)

Oikawa... he is just yknow. My Character. But I also often in my daily life have a little Oikawa in my head reminding me that my passion is my passion because it's fun and I love it. That talent and skill are intertwined but also not static or pre-determined, that I might not be as good as I think I should be, and I might never be, but if I don't try I definitely won't. Maybe I will reach my goal today, or tomorrow, or in 30 years. And I can do it at the pace and path that suits me. He speaks of all this AS WELL as the very bitter feelings that preceeds these revelations. I also really love his focus on facilitating others, of reaching potential together, of trust and faith in his team and their in him!

2. Marcille Donato (Dungeon Meshi)

Oh Marcille. (Manga spoilers here) Marcille started out so silly and to be honest? Annoying? Girly and anxious and squemish. But then you realise that these parts are absolutely true, but she is also determined and loyal and scared and unafraid and skilled. The firly and squemish becomes charming in contrast to her being excited to experience death and morally ambigious enough to use ancient magic or become a dungeon lord. And then you learn even more about her and her family, the way she grew up and how she probably is... pretty young, considering everything. The knowledge and life experience of someone being 40 maybe, but with the brain to handle it of a 19 year old... she is so afraid for everyone to die away and yet she cant help but love people! Isn't that lovely!? And as someone very afraid to lose my parents I really really feel for her relationship with her father. I think Marcille was a character who really illustrates the progression of tone in Dungeon meshi, represents the themes of the story so well, and really grew on me. Also gay. hi.

3. Shinji Ikari (Neon Genesis Evangelion)

I know people don't like this guy but he shaped me so much as a teen. I think his journey through lacking self-esteem and depression and self hatred is both fascinating, nuanced and in the end, encouraging! Imagine being offered to join humanity all as one, never feel rejected or alone again and then DESPITE all he has gone through, chosing to be yourself after all! And frankly I love that the show lets him be cowardly and weak and unsympathetic, it makes him more real and make his strong moments stronger. Also gay. hi

4. Mob (Mob psycho 100)

Mobs story is more low key, but I also enjoy a story about a young boy who FIRST has to find the motivation to improve himself, and THEN has to realise that improving yourself and being a good person does not necessarily mean to surpress any negative or strong emotions. Once again, a story about acceoting yourself, even the sides you have a hard time controlling and find off-putting or scary. And I think Mob gets to realise this in a silly and gently way!

5. Abe takaya (ookiku furikabutte)

Oh Abe. It's that one page. When he is explaining to Sakeaguchi his backstory with Haruna, and he is talking about it so casually, it's no big deal, but you can tell. "Everyone is afraid of pain". It makes my heart clench every time. It's his control-issues, his fast felling into caring about Mihashi as a person, but then slowly realising what that actually means. It's him being shocked by the smile, it's him doing anything to win, it's him not realising how mean he is. In a different story Abe would have been a bully. But fortunately for him Momoe and the team and Mihashi himself are not putting up with any of it and he slowly and also gently improves himself. I gotta catch up with oofuri. (also gay. hi)

Shout outs to: Hinata Shoyo (of course), Mihashi Ren (also of course), Edward Elric, Sophie (Howls moving castle movie), Reigen (im not immune), Tamaki (ohshc, sometimes i just think about him and hes so charming and fun and i relate), Kanamori (Keep your hands off Eizouken!, shes just. so cool. It's a fun show but every time shes on screen im blushing a bit shes just! Wow!), and the straight college student from one of my fave BL's who has to go on a personal journey to accept that he actually likes a man who's bigger and taller than him and has a big ass. Shoutouts to him too.

[dmercer91]

opposites attract au headcanons, lf63

black cat! reader x golden retriever! luca fantilli

if anyone has anymore hcs for this send them in!!! or if you have a nickname to use for y/n! i love this au sm it’s like my child

regardless of the fact that everyone knows and it’s very obvious, you refuse to admit that you have a soft spot for luca

you keep his favourite drink stocked in your fridge at all times

you let him hold your hand and play with your rings even in public

you asked a friend for their big ten password to watch his away games

you, unfortunately, have become a good luck charm for the wolverines. adam needs to mess up your hair and make your bangs nearly unfixable before every game

the first time he did it he scored twice, however you threatened to break his hand so he didn’t do it the next game, only for them to get actually embarrassingly crushed

luca was upset after the loss so the next weekend you grabbed adam’s wrist and plopped his hand onto your head looking thrilled with your life

you were hoping they’d lose. luke scored a hattrick. you started bringing a pocket mirror to fix your bangs

luca got you a ring with the sun on it, and has a matching one with a moon hanging from his chain

he very adorably explained that he chose the moon and sun because of your relationship dynamic and you hate to admit to yourself that it made you gush

you’ll go to his and adam’s dorm, and you often beat him there if it’s after class, so you’ll take that time to raid his closet and layer every blanket in the room over your shoulders while you draw

sometimes adam beats him back, too and the first few times he was very confused but now the thinks it’s endearing

luca loves scalp scratches

like, loves them

at least once a week you guys have movie night at your apartment, cause you’re a sophomore

sometimes you’ll be sitting in the corner of the couch drawing and he just stares at you in complete awe

he loves watching you draw

he loves seeing the final piece and he loves it even more if you’re proud of yourself

luca’s your #1 hype man at all times

curling your hair? “ouu, that one’s pretty, you’re good at that”

doing a project for a class? “i like how you separated it, n’ it looks cute, the design. you’re so smart, baby”

literally just scrolling on your phone? “you look like a goddess,”

and he has absolutely no shame in saying these things anytime anywhere where, as you’re much more conservative

“you’re so beautiful, baby” and he’ll kiss you on the cheek and squeeze where he has his arm around you

and you’re just blushing with your eyes wide open and your shoulders shrugging inward while you hide away in yourself “there are people around, luca,”

but he means well and sometimes the thoughts just pop into his head and he’s gotta say them, obviously, cause he wants you to know how highly the thinks of you

his smile always makes you weak

cause he smiles with his whole face and he looks adorable

if anyone else smiled at you like he did, though, you’d be audibly revolted

for example, if luca wants a favour and he just smiles at you all pretty and runs his fingers through your hair

on the other hand, you’ve had adam bribe you with food on many occasions

he asks you to come with him for adams draft day and mindlessly tells you that his parents are excited to meet you

you horrified cause he’s been talking to his parents about you and also adam wants you at one of the biggest events of his life??

you’re quiet for the rest of the day, not because you don’t want to but because you’re worried it’s not your place

luca thinks he’s scared you off and that maybe your time together has just been like a college fling even though that’s completely the opposite of how you both feel

he apologizes for springing it on you and for him moving too fast and freaking you

“i thought that we were serious though, so i-”and with that you’re flinching and staring at him with wide eyes

“shit, luca, no, we are serious. i just didn’t know if i should be at something that big for adam, we don’t talk much,” luca grins

“he calls you his sister in law when you’re not around. you’re coming,”

the next time you see adam you hug him for the first time and he’s like the human embodiment of an exclamation point

you ask a lot of questions. mostly logic questions and luca can hardly ever answer them

but he likes that you make him think about things like that and that the inside of your brain has so many facts that every once in a while they contradict themselves so strangely that you come up with some of the most ludicrous shit he’s ever heard

you like when he walks around shirtless

the first time he spent the night he helped you make breakfast the next morning in just a pair of shorts and you were.. distracted to say the least.

the first one of his teammates you really warm up to other than adam is rutger, and he rubs it in everyone’s face

“why rut?? out of all of us?!” you cannot for the life of you come up with an actual reason and they all think you’re lying and that luca knows something and he’s not telling

the incoming class of freshmen is kinda scared of you and they’re all endlessly confused when you’re at one of the houses one day and you just fall asleep on luca

“i’ve been telling you she’s harmless,” “you said she bit adam!” “out of love!”

even though some of them were a little confused with you at first, the whole team thinks you and luca are gross (ly adorable)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Nightlife 19

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, touching, coercion, manipulation, violence. Proceed with caution.

Note: I know what you’re thinking, why the fuck are you doing this? Well, you wanted bouncer Lee and I did too. Also, short!reader, not sorry.

Part of The Club AU

“You like that one, darlin’?” Lee asks as you stand in the cap-sleeved gown with bows on the skirt.

You look down and shrug. All of the dresses are so petty but you just can’t choose. It’s not so much that there’s so many, it’s that pit growing ever deeper in your stomach. You aren’t ready to pick a white gown, not even close to ready to say what he wants; I do.

“I don’t know,” you breathe thinly.

He’s quiet for a moment, Grace smiling tensely between you. You stare at your reflection as you see her throat tighten. You feel worse for her. You haven’t made anything easy.

“Well, that’s alright, then,” Lee says at last, “we can always come back, can’t we?”

You nod and guiltily drop your head, letting your arms hang at your side. He hides it well but you know he’s disappointed. And you feel rotten. He did all this for you, thought it was a great surprise, and you just can’t appreciate it.

“Of course, we can make you another appointment,” Grace announces in her chipper tone, “hun, why don’t we get you out of this? You’ll have lots to think about. Many of our brides need that time to think.”

“Uh huh,” Lee hums, “we got time.”

You let Grace lead you away, refusing to look at Lee as you walk out, skirts clutched in your hands to keep them from dragging. In the dressing room, the attendant unbuttons you and helps you out of the heavy lengths of satin.

“It’s alright,” she comforts, “you’re not the first one to walk in here not knowing what they want. It’s a big decision, just like getting married.”

You nod as she hangs the dress.

“You know, sometimes you just gotta take it slow. A long engagement isn’t so bad,” she assures, “and sometimes you just need to talk to each to figure out what’s right.”

You know what she’s inferring. You can sense the judgment in her voice. She thinks you’re weak just like everyone else. Lee isn’t controlling you, he’s helping you. He loves you, that’s what he says, and he’s the only one who’s ever done without asking for anything in return.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

She lingers, as if waiting for more. When you give nothing, she leaves you. You finish changing and let yourself out. She’s just outside and leads you back up to the front desk. Lee waits with his jacket on as you pull yours up your shoulders.

“We’ll see you again soon,” Grace chimes.

You say nothing and follow Lee out. You cross the parking lot as he opens the door for you. You sit in the passenger seat and the door snaps. He gets in the driver’s and starts the engine. Not a word between you.

You gulp as you twiddle your fingers. You stare at the dashboard and finally find the courage to glance at him. He focuses on the road as his cheek strains.

“I’m sorry,” you eke out, “I… they were just all too pretty.”

“You know, blossom, we don’t got much time for you to be hemming and hawing,” his tone is harsh and unbending.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying… what one did you like?”

“It ain’t about what I like,” he huffs as he steers.

Another silence. Drawn out and stifling. You hug yourself, sinking into self-pity. You can’t help but let everyone down.

“You…” he begins, then swallows dryly, “you do wanna marry me, don’t ya, sweet thing?”

His voice is brittle but crisp. It’s the only time you’ve ever heard him sound vulnerable. It takes your breath away. You chew your lip and look at him. You won’t say you don’t know.

“Yes, of course I do,” you lie. You don’t want to lose him too. You realise now, you’ll have nothing left.

“Mmm,” he drones, “I don’t know if I believe ya.”

You wince. He’s upset. You don’t know what to do to make him happy. You don’t want him to be mad. You don’t want him to hate you.

“I’m not good enough for you,” you mope and hang your head. “I’m sorry, Lee, but that’s the truth. I… I’ll call my daddy and you won’t have to put up with me anymore–”

He skids to a stop. You lurch forward, the seat belt keeping you from hitting the dashboard as he veers onto the side of the road. You fall back, gasping as you grip your chest.

“Don’t you ever say that,” he shifts into park, “don’t you ever threaten me like that.”

“I– I wasn’t. Please, I just don’t want to be a burden–”

“No, you wanna make me feel bad. You wanna try to manipulate me,” he accuses, “that ain’t fair, darlin’, it ain’t. I been nothing but good to you.”

“You have, I know. I really wasn’t… I just wanna be good,” your eyes glisten as you pout at him, “tell me how to be good. How can I make you happy?”

He takes a breath and rolls his shoulders as he sits back. He lets his head tilt against the seat. He rubs his cheek as he closes his eyes.

“You just gotta be you. Be that sweet girl I fell for,” he reaches over blindly and takes your hand, playing with it, “remember what ya did before. While I was drivin’...”

You blink. He lets his head drift to the side and watches your throat as you swallow. You look away shy and bite your lip. You nod.

“Last night was special, wasn’t it?” He purrs, caressing your hand with his thumb.

Your cheeks tinge. Last night was all about you. He treated you so nice, he got you that lingerie, and he didn’t try to force anything. He didn’t ask. You owe him.

“You want me to do it again?” You ask.

He sighs, “I want you to want it.”

You flutter your lashes, “I do, sir, I swear… please…” you slip free of his grasp, “can I?”

His brow arches and his expression eases, “if you really wanna,” he reaches for the steering wheel again, “but you be nice to me,” he pops his fly open, “don’t want me losin’ control, do ya?”

You giggle, more embarrassed than giddy. You put the strap of the seat belt behind you and lean between the seats as he shifts back into gear. As you touch the front of his pants, you can’t help but wonder, was he talking about losing control of the car or himself?