#first walker shoes

[applefitbabyboot-ik]

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[acb-babystore]

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[hmmm-shesucks]

Nobody has seen Andrew barefoot except Neil (not in a fetish way you little freaks). Ever. He always has socks or shoes on. If it hadn’t been for Neil, very confused and concerned, telling them that Andrew does, in fact, have feet, they’d all believe it wasn’t true. Matt is still unconvinced.

[redflagshipwriter]

Snitches the cat and his favorite bat

I wrote up dpxdc fics based off of prompts I happened to see in the last day to add to the reading pile for anyone who didn't prep for the archive down time today.

EDIT

The idea for Danny as a cat came from @shycorvid, thank you so much for correcting me and letting me play in your sandbox!

Snitches the cat comes from @garbagewith-a-cherryontop (I think??? I couldn't find a definite first post!) but the fantastic linked post is the one with how I think Snitches the cat looks here.

Word count is 1053.

Tumblr reference

masterpost for my AO3 downtime fics

“Ugh- that's not- did we just summon a demon cat?”

“It's so messed up looking. Ew.”

Danny blinked and swayed on his feet. He'd had a tail a minute ago, speeding across the GZ to check in on Walker. There had been an unpleasant lurch in his stomach. And now he was on his feet. All four of them.

Wait, what?

“You fucked this up.”

His ears twitched at the sound of a slap. Danny swiveled towards the sound and then got distracted by the feeling of his ears swiveling back. Whaaaaat?

He looked down at his precious little feeties. They were adorable paws.

“Oh, you motherfuckers,” he said. It came out as a conversational yowl.

The humans looked at him from about ten feet away and five feet up. “Annoying…”

He was pretty sure they were high schoolers. There were five of them, two girls and three boys. They were all bigger than him. High schoolers were usually bigger than he was, but this was just ridiculous.

“Count yourself lucky, dimwits,” one of the older kids said. He took a step towards Danny. Danny pressed his ears flat against his head and hissed at the approach. “If you managed to sacrifice Patches to a demon, your Mom would straight up murder you.” He laughed when he said it, like anything about that was remotely funny.

Uh- what now?

Only now, Danny noticed a very distressed calico cat underneath a laundry basket on the other side of the room. There was a stack of textbooks weighing the basket down. A large rug had been rolled up and- he sneezed rapidly, eyes watering. Chalk! They'd drawn on the floor with chalk!

‘This is some incompetent summoning,’ Danny realized, way too late. ‘Did they- how did they turn me into a cat?’ He looked at his unfortunate brethren under the laundry basket. Her ears were flat against her skull and she looked scared.

He remembered the word “sacrifice” and his blood flushed hit with fury. They'd wanted him to eat her! They'd wanted something to eat miss Patches!

The teenagers froze and looked at him, aghast at the angry sounds that were coming out of his throat.

“Shut up!” One hissed. She took off her shoe and threw it at him. Danny dodged and then threw his head back to yowl even louder. Sonic attack! Aural damage, you big jerks!

“The neighbors are going to- make it shut up!”

Danny had to run, dashing over furniture and tearing his way across a crowded table to avoid being grabbed. He screamed the whole time, eager to alert whoever they were so afraid of. Someone should see!

The window burst in.

Danny stopped running, shocked. He hadn't actually expected-

Someone snatched him up from behind and smacked him on the face with a palm. His jaw exploded with pain. It cut off his yowling.

Stunned. He was still for a moment and then he struggled for his life. The grip on his ribs was way too tight-

He looked over at the sound of a sword being pulled from a sheath. Holy shit, that was bomb as hell. His eyes went wide at the sight of a heavily armored small child crouched on the windowsill. The boy's eyes were covered, but Danny could still see him look at Danny and the poor calico under the laundry basket. He sneered.

“Unhand the cat or lose your hands at the wrist, you wretch.”

Danny loved him.

The teenager dropped him. Danny caught himself with a stumble. He let out a sad mraow before he could stop himself.

Fight club baby was enraged. “What have you done to this animal?” He hopped down into the room, revealing he was at least a foot shorter than the smallest girl in the room.

Danny trotted to him and started winding around his ankles admiringly. What a good kid! He purred.

“I will be taking both of your cats with me. If you ever harm an animal again, it will be your head that is found in a chalk-”

“Robin.” A hugeass grown man squeezed himself through the window that the kid had broken. Danny craned his head up, up, up, to see him case the joint.

The older man radiated incredible judgment. “I see that you require education on animal welfare and demonic summoning. Go on, Robin.”

“That's my Mom's cat!” One of the teenagers protested. “You can't take her!”

Robin growled at her. Danny jumped in his skin at the sound.

“Then we shall return it to your Mother and her alone, when we explain what you've done.” Danny let murder baby scoop him up and purred at full volume. Hell yeah. He looked at the cowering teenagers with condescension.

“Not that fugly thing.”

Danny blinked. He ended up making an inquisitive mraow. Why was a finger being pointed at him? He was baby.

“That thing showed up, you can get rid of it. But Patches is Mom's cat, and you can't steal a cat because-”

“Batman can steal any cat!” Robin bit out, gathered up Patches, and jumped out the window with both cats in an expert grip.

That didn't sound right, but Danny just enjoyed the night air as a line pulled Robin up to where yet another masked vigilante was waiting, cackling himself to tears.

“Batman can steal any cat,” he wheezed. “Brilliant. Good detour, Robin. Can I hold one?” He held out his blue-striped palms expectantly.

He faltered when he saw Danny, visibly surprised.

Danny… was starting to feel bad. He curled into Robin, hurt. He wasn't ugly. Why did people keep reacting to him weird?

“No,” Robin said curtly. “You have damaged his pride, and Patches is still reeling from her shock.”

The man let out a sigh but let the topic go. “That's Patches, and this is…?”

Robin hesitated. “He is the Snitch.”

That unlocked cooing. “Snitches? Snitchy Snitch Sni- ow!”

Danny snapped at the hand that came way too close and he let out a warning growl. No baby talk!

Robin seemed very pleased. He rubbed behind Danny's ears. “Snitch… I suppose that Snitches will suffice. We are taking him home.”

“....Maybe, just for fun, we should take him to get treated for mange first!” The guy made jazz hands to go with his statement.

Robin and Danny both growled that time.

[walkingdaryls]

daryl as a lover

headcanons

warnings/content: mostly fluff and a bit of angst and some suggestive themes

• he never saw himself as a gentle man. he hated his rough hands. his impulsive nature. when he couldn’t express his emotions so he’d lash out instead. he hated it all.

• but then there was you. and to you, he was sweet. the first time you told him that, he was silent for twenty minutes and had to go out for a hunt.

• but he was. he’s so sweet with you.

• in alexandria, he waits on the steps of porch of the house you two share every time you come back from a run. every time.

• he acts like he’s just out for a smoke, but he waits for you.

• at first, alexandria overwhelmed him. he couldn’t fathom a reality where things could be normal again. he walks in to the kitchen one night and you’re wearing his t shirt and no pants, freshly showered. humming under your breath, standing over the stove heating up some leftovers. and he can’t believe it. his chest is tight.

• he doesn’t have to say much. he can’t. you hear a soft “hey” from behind you, and there he is. his eyes are slightly glazed over, but before you can say anything, he just kisses you. hard.

• “hey, you. you okay?” you smile softly. food forgotten and you’re looking up at him with wide eyes and you’re more beautiful than ever.

• he just nods without saying anything. he’s smiling just slightly. and he kisses you again.

• daryl is a subtle lover, usually. in public, he will rarely touch you unless it’s a small hand on your back here and there. or maybe holding your hand occasionally. but even when he isn’t touching, he’s still showing you how much he loves you.

• he watches you, all the time. especially when you’re laughing around the bonfire with everyone else and he can’t help but stare.

• you’re the first person he looks at or calls to when he’s found something. the first person he offers to go on runs with. the first person he gives leftovers from his plate to. the first person he’ll offer a cigarette.

• daryl might be subtle, but everyone knew he was in love with you when after a group separation happened due to walkers, you were the person he sprinted to when everyone reunited. he gripped you so tightly in his arms. everyone knew.

• i think we all know that daryl’s love language is acts of service. he always beat himself up about not being able to tell you how much he loves you properly. but when he brings you back a trinket from a hunt, gives you some of his extra food, or ties your shoes for you, he sees your smile and bright eyes. he knows you know he loves you. he gives and gives.

• he gives when you’re back home and you’re all tired and pissy and without saying a word he’s got you flat on your back and his head between your legs, devouring you

• yeah, he gives

• once daryl gets very comfortable down the line, he loves baths with you. he loves how sexy and beautiful you look with your wet hair pushed back, sitting on his lap in the water

• the amount of people daryl has swung at or spit in their faces while defending and protecting you is not normal

• you love it though. like - fuck yeah, he’s yours

• daryl’s tough, yeah. broody as hell. he groans and growls. but one kiss from you on one of his tattoos and he’s melted into a puddle. don’t tell anyone though. the group would never let him hear the end of it. but he loves you.

• you and only you.

[missilin22]

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[webslingingslasher]

peters nerdy side>>>> can we get more hot nerdy peter pretty pleaseeeee

nerdy peter makes me feral.

Peter Parker was finally rewarded for all the shit he deals with. 

A teen, who was a silent walker in school, but a near lethal hero at night, one that has to deal with more stress and traumas than any other kid at seventeen. Night after night, his spirit being broken down a little more each bad guy he’s put away. 

Queens see a hero that keeps the streets clean. 

Sometimes, all Peter could see was someone’s dad, or husband, or son he was putting away. 

All that bullshit he’s been dealt, the bullshit about power and responsibility, was washed away when he finally got something good, something he really thought he deserved. 

He got you, and that’s why he’ll stop at nothing to keep you. 

“You got yourself a good one, parker. Don’t fuck it all up with your nerdy shit, pretty girls hate that.”

Was it dumb to listen to Flash of all people? Maybe. 

Does he know more about girls and has a better track record at keeping them? Yes. 

But of course, just like how you were the one to approach him, ask him out, kiss him first and ask for him to be your boyfriend, he should’ve trusted you. Could you really blame him though, not totally trusting he can have a purely good thing with no consequences? 

He couldn’t, that’s why it shocked him when you made it clear you only wanted him. 

You wanted Peter Parker, however he came. Science facts, nerdy hobbies, tirades and all. 

—---------------------

Have you ever built up an idea of who someone was in your head, and when you date the other shoe drops and they’re nothing like you thought? 

That was you with Peter Parker. 

He was adorably perfect, noticing him when sharing a history class. Peter sat three seats up from you on the left, perfect position for you to watch his habits. The shake in his leg, tapping pencils on his desk, blowing a breath every time someone answered incorrectly, sitting up and leaning over his desk when something catches his attention, chewing his bottom lip while going over notes, poking his tongue out when he takes a test. 

Peter Parker was the constant subject on your mind, starting in history and causing you to look for him in other classes, you only shared one more, typing class. He was three rows behind you, there wasn’t a good way to look at him, instead having to rely on his quiet murmurs when the teacher stands behind his computer. 

After two weeks of pining you couldn’t stand it, stomping over to his table at lunch you sit down right next to him. His friends paused at your sudden and aggressive entrance. 

“Hi. We haven’t really talked but we share typing and history. For two weeks straight I’ve been watching you and I can’t get you out of my head, and I would really, really like to go on a date with you.” 

You can see it on his face, how he goes from shock to excitement, then as he looks you over his face falls. He thinks you’re fucking with him, you don’t know how to make him believe it’s real. 

“Here,” you pull at your backpack and rip the front pocket open, you pull a sharpie out and with a slight tremble you grab his arm, pushing his sleeve up you uncap the marker with your teeth. Scribbling your number onto his skin, “think about it, let me know.” 

Before you lose your steam you scramble to stand and grab your bag, “okay, that’s all. Um,” you nod at his friends, silence deafening as everyone at the table takes in the scenario. “Thank you, and… enjoy lunch?” Cringing, you turn to leave, whispering an ‘oh my god,’ to yourself while pressing a hand to your cheek. 

Peter is sure in that moment you were a hundred percent serious and you just mortified yourself, spilling your guts and being met with nothing.

 Six steps away he calls out, “yes!” 

You pause, then turn, “what?” 

“Yes! I’ll go on a date with you.” 

Oh, that’s a new feeling. It felt like your heart had wings, your stomach felt like you were on a rollercoaster, flutters everywhere. You couldn’t even try to play it cool, the guy you’ve been crazy about just as interested and curious as you were. A toothy smile overtook your face, eyes lit up. 

Taking a few steps closer, you felt giddy. 

“Really? You will?” 

Peter’s smile matched yours, he laughed through his answer, he can’t believe you actually like him that much. “Yeah.” Biting your bottom lip you pull it together, “cool, text me and we’ll plan something?” 

“You got it.” 

Nodding you walk off, Peter’s riding on a high like never has. He’s never had such a pretty girl like you like him, want him, notice him. He felt like he’s been rewarded, that he does deserve a good thing. 

Flash scoffs when you sit back at your table, immediately talking and watching faces gasp and squeal. 

“You got yourself a good one, parker. Don’t fuck it all up with your nerdy shit, pretty girls hate that.”

The last thing he wants to do, before he even gets you, is send you off. So, he listens and promises to be someone that should be with a girl like you, someone that isn’t really him. 

—---------------------

You figured it was first date nerves. 

That or just the fact you’ve never been alone with each other, especially under the guise of a date. It wasn’t like he was weird, but he was off. The person you watched in class was goofy, using his body to express himself, confident when speaking because he could back every word up. 

This Peter was quiet, guarded and almost… boring. 

You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, he just had some jitters. Maybe if you kissed him it would settle him, you could prove that you liked him and he had nothing to be nervous about. Trying to look past his awkwardness you took the night as it was, wishing he was making you laugh like he had in class, or wishing he would ramble on in a story like you’ve watched him do with his friends at lunch or at his locker. 

It may have been different than you thought but he’d come around after a date or two surly, you’d kiss him and after another few dates he’ll open up and be his true self. It was hope, but you were riding on it. 

Peter ended the night by walking you home, conversation slowly dwindling as you approached closer, falling flat when you were  in front of the building. Waiting for a moment you looked at his mouth, he made no reaction, you hadn’t expected him to sweep you off your feet but to not offer anything made you feel unsure. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

It was obvious from the look on his face that he wasn’t expecting anything in the slightest, but he licked his bottom lip and nodded softly, “yeah,” leaning in you wait for a moment, he makes no move, he has to be extremely nervous, no other option. You kissed him, you pressed into him and grabbed his face, his hands gently hovered and you pulled away. 

Maybe he just pitied you, just agreed because you put him on the spot. 

“Um, you know if you didn’t want-” 

“Can we do this again, please?” 

And just because he asked, and because it seemed like he realized he acted off and he wanted another chance, and because you really do believe in first date jitters, you say yes. 

—--------------

The first time you went over to his house his room was oddly clean, empty spaces on his bookshelf and shelves, almost like he’d put things away. Eyeing a bin by his closet you walked closer, “you collect comics?” Hoping you wouldn’t find, but still opening the top and starting to look through the ones on top. 

Peter took a deep breath, “as a kid, kinda stupid now, don’t you think?” 

You furrow your eyebrows and shake your head, looking back down at the comic in your hand. You thought when you started dating he’d open up more, instead he got more closed off. 

Clearing your throat you place the comics back in, in the exact same order and putting the lid back on. “No, I don’t think they’re stupid. I was hoping you had some new ones I could catch up on, but if you think they’re stupid now I guess I’ll have to get ‘em myself.” 

If he had known you like comics he would’ve never said that. It’s his fault for leaving them out, he should’ve put them away like everything else that screamed ‘nerd alert’. 

“I didn’t mean they’re stupid, just you know… collecting them as an adult… is.. weird?” 

The lamest excuse you’ve ever heard, but you keep your patience. It hasn't even been two weeks, he’ll come around. You know it. 

—------

Surprising Peter with a hug he budged against your weight before supporting you, talking to a friend while he wrapped his arms around your back. Picking up on pieces of the conversation you nudge your head up, interested in his words. 

The Peter you like, the one that’s animated and rambling, moving his hands across your back as he talks. You place a kiss at the bottom of his neck, “whatcha talking about?”  It sounded like a new program that was going to change the future of computer engineering, when you questioned he blew you off. “Nothing important.” 

You had tried, you tried to be kind and patient and understanding but he just wasn’t who you wanted. You wanted that person, the person that’s excited about new technology and collected comic books. 

Peter closed off when you asked, guarded back up, you wished it could’ve been different. Maybe one day he’d open up more, you didn’t want anything but his true self. 

You gave it a month before you had to accept that Peter Parker wasn’t the person you thought he was, today, you had to accept that you were breaking up with Peter Parker. Pulling away you grab his arm, silently telling him to look at you. 

“Can I come over later?” 

“Yeah, of course. Wanna come with me after school?” 

“Sure,” you wondered if he could see through your smile. It doesn’t seem like it, he leans down and gives you a quick kiss, you pull away and back away through the halls. 

He has no idea what’s coming. 

—------------

Gently pushing Peter’s shoulders down to coax him into sitting on the edge of his bed, you grin politely when he follows instruction. Dragging his desk chair to sit in front of him you pause to think about what you were going to say, clearing your throat you begin. 

“So, I like you a lot, and I’ve enjoyed having you as my boyfriend for the past month-” 

Peter’s eyebrows furrow, he holds his hand up, “enjoyed? Are you breaking up with me?” 

You bite your lip and nod solemnly, “I’m sorry, Peter.” 

The silence is unsettling, you look away from him, his figures deflated and his mind races. 

“Why?” 

Taking a deep breath and blowing it out you shrug, “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, Peter. But, uh, you’re just… not what I thought you’d be like.” 

How could you not like him? He’s done everything right. He was the perfect suitor, he acted like the typical non nerd male. The kind of all american guy every girl wanted. 

“I don’t… what does that mean?” 

You laugh, “I have a type, and you’re not it. I like nerds, like, straight up goofy, funny guys that know something about everything and collect comic books and get excited at new, humanity altering technology. I thought you were that guy, but I guess not.” 

Oh my god. 

He’s fucked it all up, he was dumb enough to believe you wanted something else. 

He can show you he’s a nerd, he’s been one his entire goddamn life, he’s about to nerd olympics the hell out of you. 

Peter jumps from his seat so quickly it startles you, his hands come down on the armrests of your chair, the seat tilting backwards as he pushes his weight towards you. 

“I’m the biggest nerd you’ll ever meet.” 

Your seat jostles when he lets go and opens his closet, pulling out a box he sets it on his bed. 

“This is everything I put away when we started dating,” he turns with three rubik’s cubes, each one in various sizes. “,these are my rubik’s cubes, I can finish the standard in forty three seconds, the six by six took me about thirty minutes and this baby?” he bounced the biggest one in his hold, “, this is a twenty one by twenty one, it took me about three hours.” 

Peter dropped them to the bed and continued, “and this is my national championship trophy for chess club,” he shoves it in your face before he keeps digging, a small picture frames come next, “this is when I won the states most innovative science fair project,” frantic digging, “, this is a figurine of my favorite video game,” two large disc sets next, “lord of the rings and star wars,” 

He spins around, flying past your body where he picks up his comic book container, “remember when I was late to our date last week? I was getting these,” three new additions of an old comic you had just started to pick up, “, and currently?” Peter moved to his desk, tapping on his keyboard until his screen woke up, code covered the screen, he pointed between the monitor and a notebook, “I’m learning to read binary code.” 

You felt like the grinch because your heart grew the times the size, adoration blossomed, you could feel your chest crack and glow. The Peter you wanted, the person you thought he was from the start, was real and in front of you. 

This was who he was, so why was he hiding it? 

“Why did you hide that from me? Peter, that’s like, the entire reason I wanted to date you. I liked who you were, then you turned into someone else.” 

Peter rested against his desk and sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I figured a pretty girl like you wouldn’t want some nerdy guy, it might be cute at first but when I’m stoked about something I read on wikipedia and make it my thing for a day and talk your ear off about it, you’re gonna wish you had a boyfriend that just watches sport clips for fun.”

That’s the point you were trying to make, “that’s what I want! I was literally dumping you because you weren’t that.” 

“Well, I am that. So there’s no point in breaking up, right?” 

You hum and spin in his chair, “I dunno… you dragged me along for a month, hiding yourself from me, making me question everything. I mean, you have a lot to make up for, parker.” 

“C’mere,” you’re not given an option, he reaches forward and pulls the chair towards him and pulls you from the seat, flopping himself down and tugging you into his lap. Your stomach clenches, this was the confident Peter you wanted, it was confidence in himself. 

His pointer finger taps on the monitor, “you read binary from right to left, and you separate them into groups of eight. Now the key is knowing that each one and zero mean-” 

Your mouth on his, cutting his words off with a kiss, you held his face tightly, never wanting him to separate from you. Caught off guard he froze for a moment, then wrapped his hands around your middle. Pressing into him, separating for air but giving small pecks. 

“Baby,” kiss, “, I’m sorry,” kiss, “, I shut,” kiss, “, you out,” kiss, “I didn’t,” kiss, “, know it meant,” kiss, “, so much,” kiss, “, to you,” kiss. 

“You’re so much smarter than me,” a chaste kiss, “it’s so hot,” you look into his eyes, he’s flushed out and breathing harshly. “You’re so hot,” another kiss, Peter feels like the room is spinning, he’s never felt so wanted, so needed, the way you can’t stop kissing him, how tight you’re holding him to you, how blown your pupils are, the way you’re gulping him like water. 

“I mean if you,” he grunts when you kiss down his neck, biting into his collarbone. “, if you want, I could show you how quick I can solve my rubik’s cube.” Your hands drag up his hair, gripping and tilting his head away, better access to nibble and lick the skin. “Or, recite the first seventy nine numbers of pi.” 

Attention caught, “you know the first seventy nine numbers of pi?” 

“Mm hmm, I could also tell you” a whimper,  “, all the elements. Want me to start rattling them off?” 

Kissing the middle of his throat you hum, “I’d rather you take your pants off.” 

For the first time in Peter Parker’s life, memorizing the periodic table got him laid. 

[janovavalen]

✧when social media calls so does the questions || walker scobell x fem!reader

summary: after fans have created more and more of a scene with y/n l/n and walker scobell they are asked about it in their first interview together.

warning: friendly reminder the people/faces i use are just for the aesthetic ofc imagine it’s you bc we’re on that level of delulu<3

as they day went by y/n sat in her hotel room with her dressers, makeup and nail artist all around . this was probably one thing y/n enjoyed about being who she was and doing what she did.

she got to say there while people made her look pretty at the amazing work they did on her. however, though some of the dresses and suits she had to wear were sometimes out of the ordinary or just tight in general, they always made sure to capture her natural color and make her outfits look beautiful on her.

today y/n would be getting interviewed after she got ready—so was aryan, leah and walker of course. she was beyond nervous, exited? but definitely mostly nervous. she hated when she had to sit in front of a camera—well, it came more naturally when she was acting because she wasn’t really being herself.

but when it came to being interviewed, she was half of the time being told what to say, monitored at all times and some other genuine answers were cut out. she guessed it would probably be more dramatic for the audience and the interviewer.

‘miss. l/n, your being called’ one of her managers called out to her as she was just getting her last piece of clothing on.

‘oh—okay!’ she called back. as her stylist got her finished up and ready she smiled and thanked everyone who gave her a huge smile back while they waved her goodbye.

but before she could leave, she obviously had to take some pictures.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

the second y/n stepped out of her hotel room was as if on the sam strike as the rest of her friends. aryan, leah and walker came out of their separate room with their outfits on.

leah wore a beautiful dress and her afro, aryan wore a simple green shirt and black pants and walker wearing a black jacket with dark blue jeans.

‘okay why is it only me and leah going all out for these outfits?’ y/n placed her hands out motioning to the fact the boys were dressed as if they were going out on a casual walk and y/n and leah to the met gala.

‘well…talk to my styalist with that because i can’t give you an answer’ aryan commented with a smile as y/n laughed a bit. holding her phone in her hand along with her purse.

walker had subconsciously found himself waiting for her to walk beside him which didn’t go unnoticed by aryan and leah.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

as the group walked outside was then the lights began flashing in a hurry. the dark sky around them already causing enough ruckus to other people trying to sleep in the hotel, y/n and the group has stopped to give the crowd what they want.

their pictures.

as they did y/n and walker stood arm to arm. him holding the back of his hand along the back half of her back.

while they smiled, waved, posed and did some silly things out of habit. they finally seen their car was ready, signaling it was time to go, so they all began to walk.

but as y/n did she had felt her shoe get caught on something causing her to stop for a second, walker behind somehow able to feel her presence stopped immediately and looked down to her shoe.

‘oh—wait i got it it’s okay—‘

‘no wait let me help’ walker pulled back and leaned down on his knee to see her heel was stuck on the vent of the ground outside. once he got it out someone yelled—‘it’s like a real life cinderella story!’ causing the crowed to awh and flash their cameras faster.

y/n placed her hand over her mouth and nervously laughed as did walker who placed his hand back against her back and let it hold there as they walked.

when they got in the car they immediately sighed of relief from the outside media not being able to get as good pictures but still tired of course.

‘i don’t think ill ever get over this—the lights might be the cause of me going blind to be honest’ leah mumbled while holding her head in her hands, enjoying the heat of the car in this time of day which was a bit cold outside.

‘yeah, i think we should i hide all night and only take pictures in the day or something so they don’t use pictures’

‘that just gives me even more the reason to stay home, so i’m going along with that plan’ y/n smiled at aryan who laughed.

as they drove to their destination, they all had to take pictures and of course videos for their spam’s and personal cameras rolls for memory’s.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

when they arrived to their interview destination, the four of them sat in their chairs.

leah and y/n sat next to each other. walker and scobell seated next to each other—so the order being leah, y/n, walker, and aryan.

‘okay, are you guys ready?’ the interviewer asked with a warm smile, they all nodded their heads and y/n gave a nervous thumbs up as she smiled making walker laugh.

‘okay, we’re on in—3,2,1–‘

looking a bit over at the camera pointed towards her she started—‘hello my name is racheal james and i am here with—‘

‘leah jeffries’ she smiled

‘y/n l/n’ she nervously twisted with her hands—

‘walker scobell’ who gave a smile and soon—‘aryan simhardi’ who waved to the camera.

‘hi! hello, welcome hope things went well as you got here?’

‘uh yeah—y’know, paparazzi, yelling, lights—it went amazing’ walker looked at the racheal who laughed, y/n smiled a bit while she touched a bit of her face as leah and aryan laughed a bit.

‘as usual, as usual—so! i have been dying to ask, how did you guys all get along when you were casted for percy jackson?’

‘uhm, we did pretty good? i mean i came in a bit late since my character doesn’t show up till episode four so i got a bit more time to pack at home but y’know, i think i get along with them amazingly’

‘yeah—i mean, when we all met y/n she was very warm and an inviting person, every funny and so energetic i just love her presence’ walker told while looking at y/n who warmly smiled and placed her hand over her mouth.

‘okay! the two of them!? i can’t! they always do this! it’s constant—‘ leah pointed at the two as she yelled and laughed making y/n and walker nervously laugh.

‘that’s what i was going to say! is it always like that?’ racheal smiled at them.

‘oh my—yes! all the time. on set, at dinner, hang outs—anywhere!’ aryan commented while y/n shook her head with a eye roll and walked just smiled, his face red.

‘okay but wait—so, as you all know, the comments on instagram are going insane over walker and y/n i wanted to ask how do you two feel about it? is it uncomfortable? is it truth or just fans being fans?’

‘uhm….i wouldn’t call them fans just more of very distant friends and family? but im not uncomfortable with it all all—‘

‘yeah no i’m not either, it’s kinda funny and amusing to see everyone piece things together more than some do in the show’ walker shrugged as y/n laughed.

‘ou? so, are you denying or backing up on the rumors that the famous (c/n) and percy jackson may be lovers outside of percy jackson?’

leah immediately looked at aryan who’s eyes snapped to walker and y/n.

the two of them nervously touched their faces while shrugging—‘i—um?’

‘yeah, so…y’know?’ the lot laughed as they watched the two teens nervously try to figure out what to say.

‘okay! i’m sorry i’m sorry to make you uncomfortable! let’s just move onto the next question yeah?’ she smiled while flipping through papers.

y/n placed her hand over her face and sighed deeply to calm herself as for walker who looked at her with a smile and a red warm face.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

about a couple hours later when the interview was done y/n and walker decided to split from the group who had happened to all want to go out to dinner just to hang out.

walker badly wanted to be with y/n but not when she was occupied with the other group, so he pulled her away from the group for a little bit just to talk which y/n didn’t mind in the slightest.

the two of them were standing on the sidewalk as they talked and laughed together.

‘when she asked what was going on in the comments i’m not going to lie i kind of freaked out like i was like—dude what the hell do i say? what do i do?’ walker revealed as he sheepishly moved a bit closer to y/n who did as well.

‘oh my god—same, i was so nervous i didn’t know what i was going to day next to try and recover from that’ she laughed as walker nodded his head in agreement while he placed a small hand on her arm which she didn’t take note of.

after a laugher died down a bit, the two of them stood in a bit of silence as they felt the cold air breeze past them. since y/n wore a outfit that had no jacket, walker had given her his jacket back at the restaurant after seeing cold chills on her arm.

as y/n held her arms with the jacket getting warmer, walker couldn’t held but admire how pretty she looked under the yellow light of the street pole next to them.

‘you looked really pretty’ he smiled as she placed a hand over her mouth to smile widely before placing it back down to her side.

‘thank you…your not too bad yourself’ she teased as he faked a gasp making her laugh. this only prompted him to go after her with his arms around her shoulders as she laughed out loud while he moved their bodies to the side aggressively.

her face being mashed between chest and arm.

‘oh my god! my makeup!’ she cried out with a laugh as he completely ignored her with his own laughter.

once they were done moving he leaned down to give her a kiss on her cheek making the both of them grow warm and red. she smiled deeply while placing her arms around his waist. the two of them embracing each other in the dead of night.

yourinstagram

liked by dior.n.goodjohn, leahavajeffries, aryansimhardi , yourmom and others 

yourinstagram if you guys don’t know…i’m literally terrified of doing almost anything thanks to final destination

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dior.n.goodjohn dude imagine the cars just blowing up out of nowhere while you guys were driving it…

↳ yourinstagram I WAS IMAGINING THAT THE WHOLE TIME WHILE WALKER JUST LAUGHED LIKE WHATS FUNNY?

↳ walker.scobell IT WAS FUNNY BC U WERE CRYING 😭!?

↳ yourinstagram that was supposed to stay between us.😒

↳ walker.scobell oh. 

iamcharliebushnell that’s insane you thought that while driving the whole time

↳ leahsavajeffries i would’ve just got off at that point 😭

↳ walker.scobell oh trust she tried but i didn’t let her leave me on there alone after i paid for that

user282 AHHH MORE WALKER AND Y/N CONTENT<33333

user200 they’re hand feeding us at this point bc omg😭

user1011 i literally love them sm—DID YALL SEE THOES PAPARAZZI PICS OF THEN CUDDLED UP OUTSIDE???

↳ yourinstagram PAPARAZZI PICS?

walker.scobell

liked by yourinstagram, leahsavajeffries, dior.n.goodjohn, aryansimhardi and others

walker.scobell i think y/n enjoys my phone more than her own phone

view all comments

yourinstagram i enjoy your phone bc u have storage 🧍🏽‍♀️

↳ walker.scobell OUUUU so just take all mine? got it got it

↳ yourinstagram DONT ACT FUNNY ON HERE BC U TOLD ME TOO U TOLD ME IT WAS OKAY!?

↳ walker.scobell *gulps*

dior.n.goodjohn LOOK AT MY CHILDRENNNNB OMG

iamcharliebushnell they grow up so fast☹️

↳ walker.scobell why r u guys acting like your nearing your eighties

user111 LOOK AT THEMMMNM OMG GGOGMGMGMGMGM

user1034 they’re cuties

user77 i can’t believe they’re actually together like someone don’t pinch me if this is a dream i don’t wanna wake up from it

↳ yourinstagram awh😭?

↳ walker.scobell okay this is adorable though

walker.scobell

liked by walker.scobell, dior.goodjohn, iamcharliebushnell and others

walker.scobell no comment

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dior.n.goodjohn GET THHHHHHHHHHHH SHHHHH OUT PF HERE OMG

iamcharliebushnell okay but how many times have they hung out without us is the real question

leahsavajeffries alright yall not to much

↳ walker.scobell HUH😭

yourmom i’m so happy you make her happy☺️

↳ walker.scobell awh mrs.l/n

↳ yourinstagram awh mom STOP☹️

yourinstagram that busted up camera ain’t give no promises

↳ walker.scobell that’s what happens when you drop it like thirty times…

user11000 LOOK AT THEM GUYSSSSSS AHHHH

user220 i’m so happy i shipped them the second i saw them on screen together and irl

user1479 the fact they are literally two half’s of a whole is proof soulmates are real

taglist: @callsignwidow

[caninepoetryrelator]

Liquid Luck

Carl Grimes x Reader (16+)

Aged up Carl Grimes x Reader soft smut

Synopsis: Carl and you are not friends. So what’s gonna happen when you’re locked in a room together with a bottle of whiskey?

Warnings: Dick, dick getting sucked, no fully blown sex just oral, Carl is a cutie, also it’s a zombie apocalypse there’s gonna be zombies, plus various weapons and very brief nondescript violence.

Words: 3,843

It all started with a bad raid. We figured we could sneak into the pharmacy, get the medicine for Hershel, and then get out without attracting any attention.

Rick and Daryl stayed outside and kept watch while he sent you and Carl to take care of the rest.

That was it, straightforward, in and out.

Or at least it had been.

A week prior Glenn had put a boombox on the rooftop of the place to attract the walkers out and up instead of prowling the streets and the building.

The windows were almost all broken. Either by walkers or raiders, we didn’t know. But it sure was convenient when the door turned out to be locked.

You watched Carl adjust the brim of his hat and narrow his eyes at a broken square window a few feet above his head.

“I think I can fit,” he stated firmly, casting you a sidelong glance, quickly looking back at Rick when you made eye contact.

He had never been outright rude to you; he had never been anything to you. He had only introduced himself with a short greeting and a tight smile. He seemed much more open with everyone else yet standoffish around you.

“The kid can fit too,” agreed Daryl, nodding towards you. He’d always called you that despite you being the same age as Carl.

Carl’s face dropped as he glanced at you again. “I can do it by myself.”

“No, you can’t,” ordered Rick. “We don’t know how many walkers are still in there. You’re taking her with you.”

He sighed. Did he really not like you this much?

Before you had come to a conclusion Daryl had laid a leather jacket over the jagged glass in the frame before he and Rick boosted Carl into the window.

“I’ll make sure it’s safe!” He hollered from inside the building. There was some scuffling inside for a moment before he yelled “It’s clear!”

Next thing you knew you were standing in their respective interlaced fingers and they boosted you up to the window. You grabbed the edges and dove in. It wasn’t until you let go of the window frame that you realized that you, unlike Carl, were falling face first instead of feet first.

Luckily, you were met with the last type of relief you expected. Carl grabbed your waist, slowing your descent enough to use your own momentum to turn you so you landed on your feet. His hands linger on your waist as you stand chest to chest with him. You look up at him through your lashes, breathing heavily. His face is red, probably from exertion.

Just before you can thank him he pulls quickly away, looking down nervously. You lower your head into his line of sight so that he makes eye contact with you.

“Thank you,” you say with a smile.

He nods shortly before taking out his knife and heading towards a door. “This way.”

You follow him, Michonee’s old sword she had given you in hand as you follow him closely, checking your surroundings avidly. Both of you continuously glanced up at the ceiling, which creaked under the weight of anywhere from fifty to one hundred walkers.

Your shoe nudged something on the ground— a bottle of whiskey. You quickly stooped and picked it up, putting it in one of the pockets of your oversized cargos.

You make your way to the back of the building, into the section where the pills are stored.

“What are we looking for again?” You ask.

“Promethazine, it’s anti-nausea medication for throwing up. Hershel’s worried the vomit from people with the flu in town could make it more contagious.” He replies, examining bottles instead of looking at you.

With a soft frown at his bland attitude, you wander to the ‘P’ section, browsing for promethazine.

You found five prefilled prescriptions made out to various, probably now dead, people.

“Carl,” you call, holding up a handful of amber pill bottles.

“Nice one,” he says, a genuine smile on his face. The first time he’s smiled at you. It was a nice smile. You felt your face heat up as you smiled as well.

Carl turned around for you to put the meds in his backpack. You brush his hair out of the way and he whips his head around immediately.

“W-what’re you doing back there?”

“Making sure your hair doesn’t get caught in the zipper,” you reply simply.

He relaxes as you unzip the bag and place the medications inside.

Just as you were zipping the beg, a loud creaking sound resounded from the ceiling. Carl and you glanced at each other with wide eyes.

“This way,” he commanded, taking your hand and leading — practically dragging — you through the pharmacy. The thumping on the roof was becoming more prominent and you could hear gunshots from outside.

You were practically running now as the sounds became nearly overwhelming. You were near the doctor's office section of the building when the ceiling began to give.

“Shit,” you muttered as the ceiling tiles began to fall.

Carl’s hand was on your waist again, this time snatching you out of the way of something falling— a walker, collapsed on the ground where you had just been standing.

Everything was happening so fast, and next thing you knew the ground was littered with walkers, all focused on the two of you. Your sword could only do so much as you slashed at the hoard, managing to take out two in one blow as you attempted to keep them at bay.

When Carl’s hands were on your waist again this time you didn’t question it— he snatched you backwards and into a room, where he slammed the door closed and locked it.

It was a check up office; it contained white brick walls and linoleum tile. In the corner was an oak desk with a monitor and sanitary supplies stacked on it. There was a cot against the opposite wall and various equipment hanging from the walls.

The thudding at the door where Carl stood jarred you back to reality, spurring you to grab the desk and shove at it. It had to be at least four hundred pounds. Carl pulled from the other side and together you managed to use it to barricade the door. He collapsed against the cot, panting.

You joined him, holding up your hands in a calming gesture as he looked at you with a shaky, nervous expression.

“Well, shit,” he muttered with an ironic chuckle.

“Probably gonna be in here for a while,” you sighed.

“Yeah,” he muttered bitterly.

Why don’t you like me?

The words almost came out of your mouth, but it wasn’t the right time. Instead you just looked at him, with a resigned expression.

You take the whiskey from your pocket and open it, taking a swig. After drinking with Daryl it didn’t phase you too much anymore, but he stared at you with a shocked expression, cheeks dusted pink.

“Where did you get that?”

“Store,” you replied simply, holding out the bottle to him.

After a moment of hesitation he took it, taking a swig with a grimace. “How do you drink that shit?” He laughs.

He laughed. A real laugh. It’s your first time hearing it. You want to hear more of it.

“Daryl,” you explain simply and he nods with a groan.

“I see,” he takes another drink and passes the bottle back to you.

It’s called liquid courage for a reason, you think. That’s all the convincing it takes for you to start chugging the bottle. You get about five swallows down before Carl’s hands, one on the bottle and one on your jaw, stop you from going further.

“Don’t overdo it,” he chides you gently.

You nod dumbly, watching a drop make its way down his neck, tracing his adam’s apple as he takes another drink. You notice the way his lips pucker around the mouth of the bottle and you force yourself to look away.

After a moment of silence he speaks again.

“Wanna play truth or dare?”

You look at him in surprise, hesitating for a moment.

“Only if you want to—” he starts nervously before you cut him off with a simple statement.

“Sure.”

He looks at you in relief, clearly afraid to have overstepped before smiling, a bit anxiously. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” you don’t hesitate; they really do call it liquid courage for a reason.

He glanced around the room before his eyes land on the stethoscope. “I dare you to give me a checkup?” He phrases it as a question so you don’t feel forced. Cute.

You grab various medical equipment, wrapping the stethoscope around your neck with a drunken grin. “I’m your doctor, I’ll be giving you your physical,” you say in your best attempt at a deep voice. You were clearly already drunk. Normally you would’ve felt stupid but with the heartwarming giggle he let out paired with an over dramatic eyeroll, you felt nothing but at ease.

As you begin measuring his heart rate he swallows hard, his pink cheeks darkening to red. His heart thumped steadily; quickly.

“Truth or dare,” you murmur as you measure his vitals.

“Uh…” he swallowed hard, eyes flickered from your hands against his chest to your face, feigning focus. “Dare.”

“Take your shirt off,” you say with an innocent grin. He blanches, surprised. “To check your vitals better. Only if you want to.” You assure him sweetly.

In a moment he was struggling to pull his shirt off, disoriented from the alcohol.

Next thing you know your hands are running down his sides to the hem of his shirt. Halfway through struggling out of his shirt he looks up at you from his sitting position, face still read and panting. You gently tug his shirt upwards, prompting him to pull his arms through the holes and you pull it over his head.

You giggle at the state of his hair, correcting it without hesitation.

“Real soft,” you muse as you gently sweep his hair out of his face. The poor boy looks overwhelmed as he stares up at you, arms wrapped around himself nervously.

You gently move the arm he has wrapped around his chest, pressing the stethoscope there once more. His heart is beating almost worryingly fast.

“You okay hon?” You ask gently.

“Mhm,” he manages, seeming to have a hard time speaking.

“Okay,” you murmur, putting the stethoscope on various places around his chest, pretending to know what you’re doing.

“Truth- uh truth or dare,” he chokes out.

“Dare,” you repeat, this time even more sure than the last.

“Can you uhm.. touch my hair again?” He wasn’t making eye contact at all now, seemingly fascinated by his jeans as he stares down, still adorned by that bright blush.

In a second your hands are in his hair. Even when you hadn’t been talking you were fascinated by his hair. Rick had caught you staring several times and always met you with a soft smile or a laugh, whereas Daryl arched his eyebrow with a slight grin.

His hair really was soft, soft as hell. You rubbed a single strand between your fingers before trailing your fingers from his roots to the ends of his hair. You secure your hands around his scalp, threading your fingers through his hair as you continue to play with it, enamored.

You hadn’t even noticed his face, eyes closed, mouth open, breathing deeply.

You lean in closer and murmur by his ear. “Truth or dare.”

His eyes flicker open and he breathes for a moment. “Truth.”

“Why do you avoid me back at camp?” He froze.

“I-I don’t,” he lied, resulting in a small tug to his hair. He draws in a sharp breath, looking up at you surprised.

“Don’t lie,” you chide.

“You make me nervous,” he admitted after a moment of silence. “People usually don’t make me nervous, but you do.” He was once again apparently entranced by his jeans so you cup his jaw gently, bringing his gaze up to meet your own.

“I like making you nervous. But not all the time. I like talking to you, Carl,” you explain in a soft voice.

He looks up at you with a genuine involuntary smile.

“Really?” He breathes.

“Yes,” you whisper, realizing how much closer you had gotten, your hand still settled on his jaw.

“Um… truth or dare?”

“Dare,” you repeat, adamant on forcing him out of his comfort zone.

“Is it okay if I— can I please, uhm—“

“Do whatever you want, Carl,” you interrupt him. “I trust you.”

His eyes widen at that and he finally rises to his feet. A familiar feeling. His hands on your waist. His grasp is awkward this time, less sure of himself when he’s not saving your life. When it’s a choice to be touching you.

He tugs you a bit closer and his eyes flicker to your lips. You know what he’s trying to do and you know he’s scared to do it.

Your hands are still in his hair and you use that to your advantage, pulling him towards you and letting him close the distance, giving you a hesitant kiss. His lips are a little chapped, but they’re plush and soft. He tastes like whiskey, and you’re sure you do too. He’s inexperienced; this might be his first kiss, you realize.

You follow that kiss with another chaste one pressed against his lips ever so gently.

“Feel good?” You murmur, forehead resting against his with your eyes closed.

“Mhm,” he hums, barely audible as he lets out another shakey breath. You know his eyes are closed too.

You’re both reveling. In each other's presence. Just breathing each other in as his arms move to loosely wrap around your waist instead of simply placing his hands there.

There it is. That’s right.

His hands on your waist were sweet but his arms encircling your waist was just right.

You pull him in for another slow kiss, heads tilted, mouth moving and prompting his to do the same, teaching him as best you could without saying a word.

“Wow,” he gasps against your lips. You try to give him a chance to explain his exclamation by pulling away, but he pulls you back in.

You slide your tongue over his bottom lip, hoping for him to part his lips a bit more and in response he gives your tongue a light suck, pulling it into his mouth and letting out a soft whine as he does.

Your kiss evolves in passion as his hand starts traveling over your body. It slides up your waist and onto your ribs, just shy of your boob. The other stays securely wrapped around your waist as though he’s attempting to anchor you to him.

As much as you adore the feeling of his lips, you pull away. His brow furrows, eyes still shut as he leans forward for another kiss, his lips chasing yours with a small sound of displeasure after you pull away.

You tug his hair, gently prompting him to tilt his head to the side to give you access to his neck. You start by pressing soft kisses there, a trail from his jaw to the base of his neck, before retracing your steps with parted lips, allowing yourself to taste the sweet musky skin of his neck.

He lets out a choked whimper before covering his mouth with his hand. Not on your watch. You immediately grab his hand, pulling it down to your tit. He lets out a shakey gasp as he grasps at the soft flesh, groaning softly as he squeezes experimentally.

“Thank you..” he murmurs, eyes still screwed shut.

“Of course sweetheart,” you smile against his neck. He shivers at the nickname, giving you a minor power trip.

You begin sucking the flesh of his neck into your mouth where you begin biting gradually before biting harder to leave dark marks. You leave one by his jaw before remembering Rick, and what his reaction would be. You press a quick kiss to the mark before shoving him down on the cushioned exam cot, straddling him.

That’s when you notice the tent in his pants. He glances down at the point where your crotches met, biting his lip nervously. “S-sorry—” he started.

“Don’t be,” you assure him, leaning down to begin littering his chest with kisses.

You start the marks by his collarbone, before moving down to his chest. He was whimpering without restraint now, back arched.

His hand was moving up your body, down your arm, and to your hand. He held your hand, giving it a soft squeeze before simply holding your hand.

“Can I.. can I have—” he cut himself off with a small whimper before you stopped your ministrations.

“Use your words sweetheart.”

He groans slightly at that. “Can I— I wanna kiss.” He squeezes your hand again.

You lean up and meet him halfway with a soft kiss. He’s better now. He’s more prepared. You run your tongue along his bottom lip and he gladly parts them, granting you entry. He opens his mouth a bit too wide, but you don’t mind. You pull back slightly, pulling away and following it with a chaste, soft kiss before continuing where you left off– his chest.

You continue sucking dark hickies along his chest, leaving a trail of bites and kisses down to his belly. A faint covering of dark hairs spreads from just about his belly button, trailing down to below the band of his jeans.

You let out a soft sigh of desire, lightly caressing his happy trail with the tip of your fingers. He shudders softly and you watch his cock twitch through his jeans. He begins to apologize again, cutting himself off with a soft groan when you plant a firm kiss to where his happy trail disappears under his jeans.

You tug softly at the button on his jeans. “Can I?” You ask, looking up at him through your lashes.

He blinks in shock, looking down at you with wide eyes and a flushed face, mouth agape. “A-are you sure?”

“Yes,” you chuckle.

He responds with a small nod, still clearly shocked. You make quick work of undoing his pants, tugging them down before looking up at him with a small nod, prompting him to climb to his feet and shed his pants, quickly clambering back onto the bench. You swing your leg over the base of his thighs, straddling them.

You’re quick to feel him up, groping at his straining cock.

Freeing his cock you glance up at him in surprise, He’s packing. Six, maybe seven inches, not too wide – you could probably fit your hand perfectly around it – with a pretty pink tip, practically dripping precum. You test your earlier theory by experimentally wrapping your hand around his cock, eliciting a whine from him.

He swallows hard before looking down at you. “Are you s-sure? You’re comfortable?”

You nod. “I want to do this for you sweet boy.”

He smiles softly, letting his head fall back and his eyes flutter shut. “Thank you,” he sighs happily.

You lean down and kiss the head of his cock, causing him to jolt slightly. After lapping at the slit of his cock you take the head into your mouth. He gasps, bucking his hips.

Without warning you grab him by the hips and force him back against the cot which draws another whimper out of him as he pathetically attempts to squirm his hips closer to your mouth. You tut your tongue and pull away until he stops moving.

“Please,” he whines, struggling.

You decide to grant mercy on the poor boy, taking his head into your mouth once again. One arm forcing his hips against the table, you wrap the other hand around his cock and gently squeeze. He sighs happily, breath hitching as you begin moving your hand. Rotating it gradually as you move your hand up and down, you allow some of your saliva to drip from the head of his cock into your hand.

You use it as lubricant to begin pumping your hand up and down his cock faster, limp wristed as you continue lapping at the head of his cock. He arches his back more and whines.

Just as you begin taking more of his cock into your mouth his hand flies to the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair before squeezing, clearly doing his best to hold back from pulling your hair too hard.

“Mmh..” he moans softly, gripping at your hair firmly and applying slight pressure.

Suddenly you take as much as possible into your mouth, deepthroating him without warning. He lets out a sharp moan, gripping your hair tighter before releasing his grip in a slight panic as he realizes what he’s doing– it’s cute how hard he’s trying to hold back.

You use your tongue mostly, swirling it around his cock to the best of your ability as you begin bobbing your head up and down. You use one hand to massage his hard balls, ready to burst already. With that you remember that he’s a virgin, and you probably shouldn’t be teasing him so much.

This whole time he’s been making the most lewd noises, moaning and letting out small whimpers to the rhythm of you bobbing your head. His cock twitches in your mouth, prompting you to go faster to help him through.

You release his hips and meet his eyes when he gives you a confused glance, silently giving him permission. Experimentally, he bucks his hips, moaning before falling into a steady rhythm, his hips rising and falling shakily against your mouth.

He grips your hair even tighter, bringing tears to your eyes as you gag on his cock. After less than ten seconds he releases his load down your throat. Despite your attempts to swallow it dribbles out of your mouth and down his cock.

The low groan he had released had tapered off into a moan, sighing as he finally collapsed from his high. As he lays there, chest heaving, you slowly climb on top of him, collapsing there and cuddling into him.

He turns and kisses the top of your head, his wide smile unknown to you.

“I think I’m less nervous around you now,” he murmurs into your hair.

You smile softly as he places his hand on your waist once again. “Good,”

Thank god for liquid courage.

They cleared the pharmacy of walkers eventually, and by the time they reached you the two of you were cleaned up.

You came out swinging, having to run to the truck.

The two of you ended up so battered and bruised Rick didn’t even think to mention the bruise at the base of Carl’s jaw, and the one on his collarbone, just visible when he wore tank tops.

You saved the whiskey for next time.

[applefitbabyboot-ik]

Choosing the Right Footwear for Kids: A Guide to Prewalker Shoes

As your little one starts exploring the world, it's important to provide them with the right footwear to support their growing feet. Prewalker shoes are designed for infants in the early stages of learning to walk. However, it would help if you didn't pick any random pre-walkers you find online.

This guide will help you explore the importance of choosing the right footwear for kids and provide valuable insights into selecting the perfect pre-walker shoes for your little one's comfort and foot development.

Understanding prewalker shoes: What sets them apart?

Prewalkers are designed to accommodate the needs of infants who are not yet fully walking. These shoes are lightweight, flexible, and typically made with soft materials to allow for natural foot movement. The sole of these shoes is usually non-slip, providing stability and grip as your little one explores different surfaces. Understanding the unique features of pram shoes will help you decide when to choose the right footwear for your child.

Prioritizing comfort and flexibility

When selecting shoes, comfort should be a top priority, even if you are shopping for your infant winter boots. Look for shoes made from soft and breathable materials such as cotton or leather. These materials allow for proper air circulation, preventing discomfort and sweat build-up. Additionally, choose shoes with flexible soles that mimic the foot's natural movement, providing freedom for your child to explore and develop their walking skills.

Optimal support for developing feet

While prewalker shoes should be flexible but provide adequate support for your child's developing feet, look for shoes with cushioned insoles and padded collars to provide gentle support and protect your little one's feet from impact. A secure and adjustable closure system, such as Velcro straps or elastic bands, ensures a snug fit and prevents the shoes from slipping off during playtime.

Size matters: Finding the right fit.

Proper sizing is crucial for your child's comfort and foot development. Measuring your child's feet regularly is recommended, as their size can change rapidly during the early stages of growth. When measuring, ensure a thumb's width between the end of the shoe and your child's longest toe. This allows room for growth and prevents the shoes from being too tight. Always refer to the size charts provided by the manufacturer and consider any specific sizing instructions.

Weather-appropriate prewalker shoes

Infant winter boots are essential for keeping your little one's feet warm and protected during colder months. Look for shoes with soft lining and insulation to provide insulation against the cold. Waterproof materials are also beneficial to keep little feet dry during wet weather conditions. In warmer seasons, opt for breathable fabrics and open-toe designs that allow air circulation to prevent overheating.

Easy to clean and maintain.

Children can be messy, so choosing pram shoes that are easy to clean and maintain is important. Look for machine-washable shoes that can be easily wiped clean with a damp cloth. This will ensure your child's shoes stay fresh and hygienic, even after active play or outdoor adventures.

Conclusion.

Choosing the right walker shoes for your little one is essential for their comfort, foot development, and overall well-being. Prioritize comfort, flexibility, and proper support when selecting prewalker shoes. Remember to measure your child's feet regularly and consider the weather conditions when choosing appropriate footwear.

To avoid any mistake in choosing the right shoe for your little one, browse the AppleFit Baby Boot – ik collection. They are the biggest & best place to buy infant shoes of all sizes, materials, and varieties. By choosing them, you can ensure that your child's first steps are supported by high-quality prewalker shoes that promote healthy foot development and provide a comfortable and enjoyable walking experience.

[murdrdocs]

ZOMBIE!LUKE SAVE ME 🙏

imagine going out on a supply run with them (bc you two are the “big kids”) and you get stuck somewhere… forced proximity… sweat… “just the tip”….

hints of perv!luke; implied voyeurism; unprotected sex; forced proximity; just the tip; MDNI 18+. 2k words. w/ LUKE CASTELLAN

Think about something else. 

The steady step-slide of the walkers just outside of this small room. The heat that is permeating the small space, having nowhere to go other than circulate around you and Luke’s bodies, and then puncture through your shirts and pants until it makes your clothes stick to your skin. Maybe think about the two kids depending on you just thirty minutes up the road, or about what they could be up to right now. Think about anything other than your current position. 

But telling yourself not to think about it only makes you want to think about it more. The more you resist feeling Luke pressed up against your backside, the more you feel him. His arms brushing against the back of yours. His hips pressed into yours, but a little higher since he’s taller than you. His chest against your back, his chin knocking into your head every so often, his breaths just a tad off from yours and mingling with your own. 

It’s a position born out of necessity. As soon as Luke heard the sound of walkers approaching, he pulled you into the first room he saw, which just so happened to be the tiniest and stuffiest janitorial closet ever. In his haste, you foolishly left your only weapon on the counter outside, and although Luke had complained about your amateurish mistake, he made the same one. 

Which left you and Luke unknown-last-name in a janitor's closet, pressed up against each other until however many walkers were outside decided there was no good food for them in this CVS and wandered off to their next restaurant. 

Your position wouldn’t be so bad if Luke hadn’t been making it a nightmare. He isn’t doing it on purpose you figure, but you can still place the blame on him. At least on his body. 

In an attempt to give him some space, you slide your foot forward, only for the softened toe of your shoe to thud against the wall. Instinctively, as least you’re assuming, Luke’s hand flies to your waist and he pulls you back against his chest, not moving even when you collide with force that should have sent him staggering. He’s holding his breath, so you hold yours, and when nothing happens and only then, he exhales and you do the same. Though, he doesn’t let you go. 

“Stop moving,” he hisses right against your ear, almost too silent but the lack of any other noise in this space amplifies the sounds that do exist. Like the way your breaths speed up. 

Instead of replying, you rear your elbow forward as much as you can, and then jab it back into Luke’s side. He groans.

“You stop.” 

Luke takes a moment. He starts to clear his throat and then stops midway through as if realizing just how loud that would be. 

“I’m not … ‘m not doing anything.” 

You wish you could glare at him. But not only can you not move, it’s also too dark to see anything but the tiny sliver of light coming through the crack in the door. 

You don’t know if Luke senses your unbelieving attitude or if he’s just overcompensating when he adds,“I can’t help it.”

You’re just about to tell Luke to try to help it, but then footsteps begin to come towards the door. They stop right in front of you, and Luke grips your waist with more force. You can feel his stance tighten behind you like when he’s preparing for a fight and you mirror it. You both stand like that for a couple of minutes, waiting for something to happen, and then the walker moves along and leaves you and Luke there to deal with his problem. 

Maybe if you ignore Luke’s problem in the same way you have done with the walker, then it will go away. 

‎

“How the fuck do you still have a boner?”

The sun has set by now. You know so by the old watch on your wrist and the now darkened crack between the door and the frame. Walkers march around tenfold, Percy and Annabeth are left on their own, there’s so much to worry about, and Luke still has a boner pressed into you. 

The thunderous sound of their heavy feet dragging against the tile shrouds your voices, allowing for you to finally talk to Luke after hours. 

You’re both sitting on the ground now, but the way the closet is arranged makes your leg have to sling over Luke’s lap, allowing you to feel the stiff erection confined in his cargo pants. Luke has his flashlight propped up in front of you both, but currently flipped off to conserve the battery and to avoid alerting the walkers. You don’t need the fluorescent lighting to tell that he’s shrugging. 

“I don’t know. It’s not like it’s something I can help.” 

You roll your eyes for dramatic effect, even if he can’t see you. “You definitely can.” You’re being unreasonable, but now that the sun has set and there are worries surrounding you on every end, you would rather focus on this minute worry over the two bigger ones hopefully in a mansion down the road. “Just think about your grandmother or something.” 

“Oh yeah, thinking about my dead grandmothers that I have never met will get rid of my boner.” 

“It will! If you can be horny and sad at the same time then there’s something seriously wrong with you.”

“Oh says you!” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I can hear you crying and mo–” Luke stops while he’s ahead, but the damage is already done. 

You give him a second, perhaps to retract his statement, apologize, explain, or do something other than sit there in silence. When he doesn’t even attempt to add onto his already incriminating confession, you take your stance. 

“You listen to me?” Again, he doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. “You’re such a fucking creep, Luke.” 

You try to sound peeved. You try to sound disgusted. And maybe it comes across that way, but you only barely feel that way. Especially when you’ve been putting on a show for days with hopes to get his attention. 

When you’re with Luke, there’s a tendency for things to turn on its head quickly. One moment you’re bickering with Luke over how he could have a boner in a situation as dire as this, and then the next you’re letting him sweet talk you. Before you and Percy encountered Luke and Annabeth, you were tougher according to Percy. You were less likely to give into stupid plans, more likely to think for longer before making a decision. More logical. 

You didn’t believe Percy when he claimed Luke had changed that about you. But maybe there was some truth to his accusation, because there was no one else in the world other than Luke Castellan who could have convinced you to do this right now. 

It’s so fucking stupid. You’re too young, too responsible for lives other than your own, too clueless, and too many other things to even be considering this. But you’re more than considering, your arms pressed against the door and your legs spread for Luke who is situated between them from behind. You’re going to let him do this, because you want it as much as he does.

Besides, it’s just the tip. 

“Ready?” he whispers. You nod. 

He has his flashlight turned onto the lowest setting and diffused through his shirt, providing just enough illumination for him to see your backside. He takes a breath, you take a breath, and you breathe out together. At that same time Luke nudges forward and pushes the tip of his cock into your cunt. 

You don’t mean to gasp, but you do. Luke has one hand on your hip holding you steady and he uses his thumb to rub circles into your skin, nonverbally telling you to relax. You do as told, but not much relaxing is needed before Luke stops, pulls back out, and does it again. 

The sun might have gone down, but the heat is still there. It clings to your skin, creating a sticky film that you want nothing more than to wash away. Unfortunately, it only multiplies whenever Luke begins to fuck you (is that what he’s doing?) a little faster. It feels so good, but it’s not nearly enough. You know that more length creates more possibilities. More danger for a massive mistake to occur. But you aren’t thinking straight when you push back during Luke’s next thrust, sheathing more of his cock into you with one motion that catches him off guard. 

He grunts, a painful sounding groan that comes out strangled. Instantly, both of you stop. You wait. You listen. And you feel Luke so intimately, just situated inside of you like this, unmoving. He fills you up in ways you could have only imagined. Luke rolls his hips into yours. You don’t know if he means to do it, but he does, and it feels so good that your eyes are rolling back into your skull and you’re starting to fuck yourself back onto Luke, walkers be damned. 

You both manage to control your noises from your mouths, but where the two of you are conjoined is a whole different story. The sounds are loud—sloppy squelches of your arousal coating Luke’s dick, squeezing out onto him from how tight your entrance is. There’s a loud clap when your ass hits Luke’s hips, and it only stops when Luke holds you still and fucks you himself. But like this he isn’t going deeper, he isn’t going all the way, and you understand that it’s too loud when he goes all the way in but you need it so bad. 

Luke can get so deep within you. Granted you haven’t had sex for a long time, but god it feels like the first time. Minus the excessive discomfort and awkwardness. 

When Luke slips in all the way once more, you can feel him all the way in your stomach. It’s just so good and so worth it. 

Letting Luke come stay with you and Percy was so worth it. Compromising your rules and adopting some of his was so worth it. Embarrassingly fucking yourself on your fingers when you knew Percy and Annabeth were outside, leaving you and Luke alone was so worth it. Even this fucking supply run gone wrong was worth it. Because it all got you here, nails digging into the painted metal of the janitor closet door while you let Luke fuck you way deeper than just the tip. 

He’s close. He doesn’t have to tell you such for you to know. He’s clicked his flashlight off by now, leaving you both surrounded in darkness. He whispers, “Touch yourself”. And you do. 

When you flutter around his cock with an impending orgasm, Luke pulls out, fists himself, and spurts cum onto your ass while you’re coming down. 

Your heavy breaths heat up the room as Luke wipes your backside with something that you think is his shirt, and then he blindly helps pull your pants up. Your panties end up a little twisted so you fix them yourself before doing the best that you can to turn around. 

“Time?” 

Luke clicks his flashlight on for a second and you see how flustered he is. Eyes wide, hair sticking to his forehead, tanned cheeks redder than usual. You wonder how you look. 

“10:43.” 

“Leave at first daylight?” 

He grunts an affirmative reply and clicks the light back off, leaving you both submerged in the darkness, locked in a room, with nothing else to do for a few hours. You entertain yourselves in the best ways that you can.

[darsynia]

Forgiven (CEO Steve/f!Reader)

MCU MASTERLIST | STEVE ROGERS MASTERLIST | Ro Roll

Summary: Since dropping out of school to care for your sister, your daydream has been that a rich, handsome man will save you from drowning in debt. Until then (read: never), you’ll work hard at your new receptionist job and try not to ogle the impossibly hot construction guy working in the foyer…

Words/Warnings: 2,855 | none

As 5/7 of my Ro Roll birthday fics for @ronearoundblindly, forGIVEn is a fluffy meet cute between CEO Steve and f!Freader. Gif is by @ashilesun.

Excerpt:

“Something wrong, miss?”

You look up to see Foreman Eye Candy standing beside the desk looking gently concerned. One sandy blonde curl is plastered to his forehead with sweat, and you can see that his eyes are a gorgeous shade of blue.

From behind you, a hand lands on your shoulder with just enough pressure to guide you to your seat.

“Nothing of note, Sir, I’m sure!” your coworker says hurriedly.

“All right,” the man says, setting his left hand down on the counter. There’s no ring on his finger. ‘Sir’ Eye Candy (you’re going to hell for all of this) offers a kindly, “Have a good afternoon,” and right at that moment, both of the reception phones ring. There’s no time to process the oddness of what’s just happened, not until you’re back at home and making dinner for your sister.

“How was your hump day?” Jennie asks from the living room.

You nearly splash boiling hot water all over yourself.  

FORGIVEN

“Thank God for the internship last summer!” your sister says (again).

“I do, I do,” you promise, looking at yourself critically in the grubby bathroom mirror. She doesn’t have to know you pick a new deity to mentally ‘thank’ every time. Today it’s Thor, because you need to bring electricity to your first day on the job. 

You’re hoping to look professional but approachable for this customer-facing position, and it looks like the months of clothes thrifting before your internship last year are really paying off. Do you wish you could work in your field of choice? Sure, but working in the same company as a receptionist means you have both in-field and company knowledge. Once Jennie is back on her feet, you hope to be back on yours, too.

You step into the kitchen to check that everything is set up for your sister. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come back at lunch?”

“No mother hen-ing, you promised! I’ll be fine, and you’ll need your own lunch!”

Your watch beeps that it’s time to start walking to work, so you slip into your sturdy dress shoes and give the room a final once-over. Jennie’s cooler of food is near the couch, she’s got all of the remotes, and her walker is within reach. You’ve even put a pair of crutches in the umbrella stand and lashed the damned thing to the couch so she can’t knock it over. Her charger is at hand, the blinds are down, and the end table has her morning coffee on a coaster.

“Get out or I’ll start throwing things at you and you’ll be late from having to clean them up!” your sister teases.

“I love when you nag,” you tell her, shutting the door before she can retort.

Star Industries is honestly your dream workplace, even after pausing your mechanical engineering degree to take care of Jennie. After Tony Stark and his company spun it off as a subsidiary, Star really came into its own. The company has an inspiring mission: to ensure safe, affordable prosthetics for the people who really need them. Many customers are war veterans, just like the two men in charge. The COO even has one himself.

You’d filled out your paperwork after hours, so when you walk into the building, it’s a nice surprise to see how the morning light floods the lobby. The atrium of the building is made up of a multi-storey open space lit by tall windows, with the company’s logo laid out in the tile floor right as you come in the doors. The A in the word ‘STAR’ is, of course, a star, but it’s the missing ‘K’ from its parent company that catches the eye. Instead of upright, the K is laid on its ‘back.’ One stick figure’s front leg and another stick figure’s back leg make up the angled lines from the K--and they’re both wearing prosthetics.

The name badge you’re given has a smaller version of the same logo, and you can’t help but hope this isn’t the only time you’ll be representing the company. You fix it to your lapel and sit nervously at the desk beside the woman who will train you. It’s an hour before you come up for air long enough to notice there’s some renovation work going on nearby. 

Honestly, ‘notice’ is embarrassingly underselling it.

The windows in the lobby are clearly designed to encourage shafts of sunlight that flood a particular area with a cheerful glow. You’ve managed to look over right when one such beam illuminates a man wearing rough work clothes, his head tipped back to drink out of a water bottle. He’s handsome as hell, with a face like Adonis and powerful muscles straining his sweat-damp t-shirt. The sunlight turns him into a golden statue, and you sure as hell would visit museums more often if the art looked like that!

Your phone rings and you answer promptly, tearing your eyes away from the construction worker just as he smiles at someone. The stammered greeting you offer to the caller could be chalked up to it being your first day, but that isn’t the reason at all.

Your first week on the job is equal parts satisfying and stressful. Satisfying because it turns out you’re a natural at taking zero shit with maximum politeness. Your stress comes from the renovations.

The work isn’t loud, and it’s not like you’re worried about safety or anything. Technically, your job isn’t affected at all… well, not because of your assigned work, that is. No, you’re the one affected, and it’s thanks to the man who seems to be in charge.

After that first day, the tarp that separated their construction from the rest of the lobby had been removed, meaning you could just look over and see him at any point throughout your day.

You’ve been rationing those glimpses for your own sanity.

Despite this, there are still details you’ve noted. One, he’s definitely the foreman. Everyone defers to the guy, but his leadership style seems to rely on trust and respect. Two, he has the most genuine smile you’ve ever seen. Paired with his looks, it’s a disastrous combination, especially given Reason Number Three: he’s an utter beast. More than once you’ve seen him moving things with ease that would take multiple other men to lift.

Today is Monday and the men were all at work before you arrive. Their project is taking shape; it appears to be a café with low counters, maybe a wheelchair-friendly gathering space? It would be on brand for the company, and certainly explains why you’ve been brought on as a second receptionist. The usual population in the lobby will certainly go up once it’s completed.

Before you sit down, you take stock of the wide welcome desk. Would anyone notice if you nudged one of the large flower pots to the left to mostly block your view of the café area? You decide to risk it. Foreman Eye Candy is a Distraction with a capital D, and you already love this job.

The morning goes smoothly--but by lunch you’re fairly certain you’ve memorized the pattern on the side of that damned pot, for as often as you’ve looked over at it.

When you come back from your break, the pot is back where it was before.

Your hands shake a little bit as you log back into your computer. Did a cleaning crew come through and adjust it? You’re not brave enough to ask the senior receptionist for fear she’ll question why it was moved in the first place. It’s probably a fluke, you decide.

Without your makeshift barrier, you find yourself looking over at the Foreman way too many times before you’re done for the day, but he’s smiled at least twice in your direction, so that’s something.

On Tuesday morning, you choose discretion as the better part of valor and scoot the pot over to obscure your view again, even taking the time to nudge its closest neighbor a little, to even up the spacing.

After lunch on Tuesday, both pots are moved back, and Eye Candy is smiling. You doubt the two are related.

On Wednesday you bring in one of those Newton’s Cradle desk toys with permission from your coworker at the desk. It’s altruistic, distracting the children when their parents show up to ask questions. Because your area is recessed a bit, you risk setting the item on a little paper sorter to make it level with the visitors’ side. Completely incidentally, that placement blocks some of your view of the café under construction.

You come back from lunch to find the shelf moved to the other side of your computer monitor.

It’s so disconcerting that you stand there staring at it in shock for a long moment, long enough to attract attention.

“Something wrong, miss?”

You look up to see Foreman Eye Candy standing beside the desk looking gently concerned. One sandy blonde curl is plastered to his forehead with sweat, and you can see that his eyes are a gorgeous shade of blue.

From behind you, a hand lands on your shoulder with just enough pressure to guide you to your seat.

“Nothing of note, Sir, I’m sure!” your coworker says hurriedly.

“All right,” the man says, setting his left hand down on the counter. There’s no ring on his finger. ‘Sir’ Eye Candy (you’re going to hell for all of this) offers a kindly, “Have a good afternoon,” and right at that moment, both of the reception phones ring. There’s no time to process the oddness of what’s just happened, not until you’re back at home and making dinner for your sister.

“How was your hump day?” Jennie asks from the living room.

You nearly splash boiling hot water all over yourself.  

Chanting ‘it’s Wednesday, that’s called ‘hump day,’ there’s nothing that implies you’ve been thinking impure thoughts, pull it together!’ in your head, you answer something non-committal and continue with dinner.

That night you have a dream that Sir Eye Candy walks over and smiles at you, illuminated by one of those rays of light straight from heaven.

On Thursday you arrive at work to find the pots have all been moved farther back along the decorative part of the receptionist’s desk, much too far to move any of them without notice.

As if he’d been waiting for you to see the change, you make brief eye contact with Sir Eye Candy. He does a little nod of acknowledgment before turning to move the large sign for the café. By himself.

“Am I awake?” you whisper to yourself, unable to look away from how effortlessly he moves under heavy strain.

“Keep staring at the boss like that and the rest of his crew will never let you hear the end of it!” your front desk coworker Marcia jokes.

Your cognitive function flatlines as you try to process the word ‘boss’ while at the same time watching the man in question wipe sweat off of his brow. “It’s obvious he’s the foreman,” you mumble, dropping your phone so you have to look away to pick it up. If the screen cracks, you deserve it.

“Oh, honey, this is his side gig. Pet project. Maybe even a vacation, knowing Rogers,” Marcia chuckles.

The name ‘Rogers’ finally gets through to you, in context to ‘the boss.’ Steve Rogers.

Sir Eye Candy is CEO Eye Candy.

“Wait…”

“There it is!” Your coworker gives you the kind of look only busybody aunts and elder coworkers can pull off. “Word is his gym is closed for a few weeks, so he pulled some strings to move this project up. Nice way to start a new job, yeah?”

You’ve been ogling the CEO. “Should I put in my two weeks’ notice?” you whisper. Dismay doesn’t even cover it. You’re practically mortifie--

“I’d advise your manager not to accept,” a nearby voice says. “If anything, I probably ought to call myself into an HR meeting. I’ve been quite distracted this past week.”

It’s CEO Eye Can-- Rogers. All you can do is mutely look up at him, watching the amused look on his face turn into a stern one.

“Have you been messing with my plant display?”

It’s not at all what you were expecting him to say, and you’re still befuddled by the idea he was distracted by you, so you stammer out an admission that yes, you did move his pots.

The phone rings, and after a subtle gesture from Rogers, Marcia takes the call.

“Sir,” you begin, noting the way his posture straightens on hearing the title. You lick your lips in nervousness, and god, his eyes go straight there. HR would be having kittens.

“Go on?” Rogers’ voice is resonant. Everything about this feels like a rom-com, and you are totally worried you’ll screw it up.

“Forgive me for staring?” you offer. You’d meant to say something less obvious, but it’s too late now.

“Yes, well. I’d like to go over your conduct at a lunch meeting, if, that is, you--” he breaks off, lifts his chin, and clears his throat. “In a half hour.”

“I-- Of course--” You’ve answered too late, he’s already walking away and calling out to the crew. Stunned, you look over at Marcia. She’s grinning, but doesn’t look up, and you decide to take your cues from her.

Fifteen minutes later, the work crew wraps up. You see them file out in your peripheral vision, but if Rogers is going to play the Principal’s Office card, you’re going to play at being an obedient student.

This sends your mind on a complete irresponsible rampage, and you’re still tamping down the mental images when a gentleman in a suit walks up to the front of the desk.

Your welcoming smile is already in place when you lift your head to greet him, but it widens into surprised happiness to see that it’s Rogers. At the very last minute you stop yourself from acting like he’s picking you up for a date, even though you very much hope that’s what this is, HR be damned. Every fairytale has a villain, after all, and villains are made to be thwarted.

“Can I help you, sir?”

The word choice is deliberate.

“You can. Marcia, do you usually cover for lunch?”

“I do.”

“Good. We’ll be prompt,” he says firmly, tapping the flat of his palm on the desk with finality. You take the cue, getting up and slinging your purse over your shoulder, but inwardly your stomach is a riot of sawdust. 

Are you reading this wrong? All of your teenage aspirations to be swept off of your feet by a rich, handsome man feel like lead weights at the bottom of your shoes. Steve Rogers’ reputation is sterling, and despite your less-than-angelic daydreams, you don’t want to come across like a gold-digger. Even if you are strapped for cash.

Rogers opens the door for you. The front door. The front door of his business. It’s heady and confusing, even more confusing when a slick silver car pulls up and a valet hands him the keys.

“You look like you either need sunglasses or smelling salts,” he says gently.

“A neck brace,” you quip. “For the whiplash.”

His smile is sheepish as he opens the car door for you. “That’s fair.”

The car is cinematically nice inside, and you suppress the desperate desire to pinch yourself until you wake up as he gets in and adjusts the seat for his height. He doesn’t look over at you, which your adrenaline-drunk mind can’t decide is good or bad.

Then he does, and all you can do is smile back at him.

“A confession: I cribbed some of those lines.” Rogers eases the car out into traffic and lets out a long breath. “From Bu-- a friend of mine. Advice on how to be in charge and ask out a subordinate at the same time.” He stops at a red light and shoots a look over at you. “How’d I do?”

You kind of want that neck brace, but despite the trappings, you’re really enjoying who this man is turning out to be. “That depends. Do you want me to be turned upside down and sideways?”

That earns you a look akin to the one he sent you when you’d called him ‘sir.’ You shiver, and he notices. “I don’t think you want to know what his advice might be on the answer to that question! How about ‘maybe?’”

“Maybe is good,” you manage.

“Glad to hear it. What would you like? Italian? Deli?” Rogers looks over and catches his breath like he’d forgotten his wallet. “An invite to lunch without your employment on the line? I’m sorry about that. I got--” He looks back at the road, hands tight on the steering wheel. “--carried away.”

His candid mix of charm and command are sweeping you completely off your feet, tarnished halo and all. “I don’t think I have time to phone a friend for a better answer, but is ‘maybe’ still good?”

Your sister would walk her ass to the car to smack you if she knew you’d just told the CEO of your new company you’re a ‘maybe’ for a one-on-one ‘maybe’ date with him. You suspect his friend would be facepalming, too.

“Your job isn’t on the line, I promise. I’d never misuse power like that--” He breaks off from his serious tone, looks down at his suit and the fancy car you’re both sitting in, and chuckles. “All evidence to the contrary.”

The whole situation is absurd, unrealistic, completely romantic, and everything you’ve always wanted.

You’re going to wake up any minute now.

Rogers looks over and raises his eyebrows. You realize with embarrassment that he wants you to either tell him where he can stuff his lunch invitation, or where the two of you can go eat.

“I got carried away too,” you rush to say. “Yes to lunch. No maybes in sight.”

“You’re forgiven,” he smiles.

to be continued...

[multific]

Modern Warfare Men as Sugar Daddies - Preferences

John Price, Simon Riley, John MacTavish, Kyle Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, König, Logan Walker x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Age gap, smut

Part 2

A/N: The description of Sugar Baby and Daddy relationship is not portrayed realistically here, this is a more intimate relationship, I would say. I think it is more of a romance that started with a Sugar Baby-Daddy relationship. (Potential part 2? anyone interested let me know!)

John Price

You two met when you worked in a café. At first, he was only a customer. A customer who soon became a regular. He always asked for the same drink and sat at the same table, right in the corner so he could see everyone in the room.

He offered to take care of you and you agreed probably way too quickly.

He was too handsome and kind to say no to.

Your agreement was simple, he gave you his card and you gave him comfort. Whenever he left for a mission you always worried for him, not because of his money but because of him.

He would call you his Darling.

He loved to see you in nice dresses. Even if you didn't want to buy anything, he would still take you to the stores.

And in return, he would just want you naked, on or against any surface he prefers at that moment.

John is a giver, that is for sure.

Your legs always tremble when you think of sitting on his face, his beard so deliciously scratched against your skin as you ride his face.

Simon Riley

Simon found you through a website.

It was very late and he was way too lost on the web to care, but then he found himself on a page.

sugarbees.com

And he found you very interesting. First of all, you were gorgeous. You looked the most natural out of all of the women on there and he got interested.

He saved up all of his money from the army after he retired. Why not spend it on someone? Not like he had anyone. So, he sent you a message and you replied within the next 5 minutes.

You two agreed on a meeting the next day.

Simon was surprised that you were so prepared. You explained he would be your second if he agreed to your terms.

Your terms were very reasonable, even the money you asked for. And you even offered a 'test-run' as you called it. Which basically meant that he could fuck you to test if he would like it. And boy did he love it. He signed your papers the moment after he came inside you.

You turned out to be a good companion. You always kept him on his toes, asked him to go out on dates, and not only expensive ones, he learned you prefer Burger King over any fancy restaurant. And each and every date would end the same, with mindblowing sex.

Simon learned that you loved to give him blowjobs, there was something about the tears that gathered in your eyes that he didn't like but you reassured him, you loved every second of it. Having not only your pussy stretched out by him but also your throat turned you on.

He was glad he messaged you that day.

Johnny MacTavish

You two met at a wedding.

He later learned that it was actually a Sugar Baby technique to go to weddings and look for Sugar Daddies but he didn't complain.

You were gorgeous, it was meant to be a one night thing but then Johnny called you again.

This is when you explained to him what you wanted.

You wanted money and in exchange, he would get you as a girlfriend... kinda.

Johnny loved the attention you gave him. You even bought him gifts for events, given it was his money but still.

And you had a mad pussy.

He loved it when you were riding him, and you loved the noises he made.

Most of his money you would spend on Doctors, pills or condoms. Johnny loved to see you in heels. So, he would make sure to have a closet in his home filled with shoes for you. He would want you to wear one even during sex. He wouldn't say he has a foot fetish, but there was something about the way your legs looked in a pair of heels, the way your calves would look and how he wanted to always have them around his shoulders or torso as he fucked you.

Kyle Garrick

Kyle got to know you through a recommendation. Prince told him about his Sugar Baby and Kyle got interested and so, you two met.

You were a very bubbly person who always had a smile on their face. Kyle liked that.

It was very different from the things he had seen at his line of work.

Your agreement was also very reasonable.

In this relationship, it was you who demanded more sex from him.

Kyle liked to just spend time with you, he didn't always need to get his dick wet for the occasion.

König

He was confused about how he got into this situation.

One minute you were explaining to him what your job was, in the next he was eating your pussy out like a madman while stroking himself.

Since he often left for missions, you stayed in his home. You loved sending him videos.

Naked videos mostly with an attached note.

Thinking of you today

Missing you Daddy

Watch this when you are alone

Got some new panties you can rip off of me

Watch this with sound on

He would be so red. So SO red every time your name would pop up on his phone.

And when he would come home, you would be already waiting for him either on your knees or on all fours.

You would learn German to tease him. It would also help understand him a lot more. He would call you many cute nicknames in German.

After sex, he would take really good care of you. A shower or a bath is a must and then food to regain energy.

But no one said you wouldn't give him head in the shower or ride him in the bathtub until all water is gone from around you.

Alejandro Vargas

Alejandro knew from the moment he saw you in the bar exactly what you were looking for.

And he was more than willing to give it to you.

You were stunning. Exactly what he was looking for and more.

But being an army man he needed a plan.

And his goal was to get you.

Which was easier than he anticipated.

Next week, he made sure to put on his nicest suit and expensive watch.

And just as if he was fishing, you got hooked.

What he didn't know was that you already had your eyes on him the week before. Who wouldn't notice a handsome man like him?

So, you knew this was all for show.

But you liked it.

You liked him. He would be your very first Sugar Daddy so you wouldn't exactly know what to do and what not to do. But Alejandro was patient.

He expected you to spend his money in a week's time but instead, he just often found you on his couch or bed.

The agreement with sex was simple, if either of you wanted to try something, speak up, you felt uncomfortable, speak up.

It was simple but effective.

You loved it when he used his leader voice on you. Giving you commands.

When he was gone on missions, you would learn a couple things. First, you learned to cook then you learned to strip and how to give a lap dance.

He would be thrilled to come home to his favourite food and a lap dance.

Logan Walker

It was his brother who set it all up claiming that Logan needed a little lovin' in his life.

Logan wasn't exactly happy with you, but you have been paid and you were not going to walk out.

You did keep your distance and gave him time to warm up to you. Given how distant and unsure he was with you.

You always texted him to meet up and he did come, reluctantly. He said he didn't want to waste his brother's money

But soon, Logan warmed up to you.

He found himself drawn towards you.

He found himself texting or calling you to meet up, he called you over to his place more and more often.

Sex wasn't essential to him, but you did end up seducing him, wearing a nice piece of lingerie and he was gone.

Men are simple creatures.

And Logan was certainly not against the idea of you in his bed.

Logan has great stamina, he is precise and he knows what to do. He learns your movements and how to fully please you as you learn the same about him.

You two are on the same wavelength most of the time.

Part 2

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ˇAO3ˇ

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[missilin22]

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[lateatnewyork]

AFTERGLOW PT 2

charlie bushnell x reader

warnings: fluff, smau

summary: pt 2 to afterglow

a/n pt 1 is here

liked by iamcharliebushnell, leahsavajefferies and others yn.ln tryna fight the dating allegations 🤺 view comments

ynloml guys she’s married to me ➔ yn.ln i thought u said u wanted to keep it quiet ➔ ynloml YN??? iamcharliebushnell where are my photo credits ➔ yn.ln photo creds for first pic to him 🙄 walkerscobell so dior js told me u have a picture of me that’s rlly bad ➔ walkerscobell don’t post it ➔ yn.ln don’t piss me off then

liked by walkerscobell, iamcharliebushnell and others yn.ln the last photo is cos u stole my oreos anyway HAPPY BIRTHDAY WALKIE TALKIEEEE view comments

walkerscobell letting this slide cos u got me cool shoes user34 walker has the most goofiest pictures ever ➔ iamcharliebushnell can confirm ➔ yn.ln nuh uh aryan does ➔ aryansimhadri STOP 👏 BULLYING 👏 ME ➔ walkerscobell LMAOOOO hearts4yn oh to be a part of the pjo cast 😔 ➔ ynloml no cos i want them to be my besties too

CHARLIE BUSHNELL AND YN LN DATING? HERES ALL THE PROOF.

Charlie Bushnell was seen with back scratches in Dior Goodjohn’s vlog a day after YN posted that she had gotten her nails done.

Sources say they saw YN with a man who looks a lot like Charlie at the beach. The same day both and YN and Charlie soft launched their significant other at the beach.

YN had posted that she got new white ribbons on her TikTok just a week before this photo was supposedly taken and she also mentioned her newly bought books on her now deleted instagram story. Also in the aforementioned TikTok a voice called out YN’s name in the background. It was a manly voice which sounded a lot like Charlie’s.

READ MORE… comments

user09 leave them tf alone ➔ username they’re literally asking for it by being famous ➔ ynlove i don’t think two 19 year olds are asking for their ‘supposed’ relationship to be stalked username yn is such an attention seeker ➔ hearts4yn u say this as if she cares abt u ➔ username she doesn’t care abt u either ➔ hearts4yn no but at least i’m not hating on someone js cos they’re more successful than me.

liked by iamcharliebushnell, sabrinacarpenter and others yn.ln why’s he so fine 🙈 tagged: iamcharliebushnell comments are closed

liked by yn.ln, walkerscobell and others iamcharliebushnell she kinda… 🔥 tagged: yn.ln comments are closed

liked by leahsavajeffries, ryanreynolds and others yn.ln this is my thirteenth reason why ft inez view comments

ryanreynolds ur a bit too young to be watching that show ➔ yn.ln actually blake let me 🤓 👆 user34 UR CAT IS SO CUTEEE ➔ yn.ln FRR SHES SUCH A LIL CUTIE walkerscobell i wanna steal ur cat ➔ iamcharliebushnell don’t do that ➔ yn.ln real otherwise i will jump u aryansimhadri r u getting more cats? ➔ yn.ln maybe 🤭 user56 CANT BELIEVE YN AND CHARLIE ARE DATING ➔ hearts4yn THEYRE SO IT COUPLE

liked by dior.n.goodjohn, aryansimhadri and others yn.ln inez and betty love their lil sister augustine (auggie) view comments

aryansimhadri miss girl thought she could js sneak charlie in 🤨 ➔ yn.ln had to put my baby daddy in 😔 taylorswift THEYRE SO CUTE HONOURED TO HVE THEM NAMED AFTER MY CHARACTERS 🤭 ➔ yn.ln honoured to have them be raised by u iamcharliebushnell love being a girl dad ❤️ ➔ yn.ln love u being a girl dad hearts4yn what type of cats are they 🥺 ➔ yn.ln inez and betty are turkish angoras and auggie is a bombay cat 🫶🏻 ynloml taylor being the biggest fan of yn’s cats 😭 charlie&yn not yn and charlie pretending to be irl parents ➔ yn.ln wdym we literally have 3 daughters ➔ iamcharliebushnell fr ➔ charlie&yn YN AND CHARLIE HELLO??? ➔ user06 u literally won in life.

@editor : they’re literally every romantic couple ever coded comments:

whosyn omg u guys are so talented ➔ editor OMG YN HII username OMG YN COMMENTED U LITERALLY WON ➔ editor SHE LIKED TOO

@ mayorcoco : petition to be ur aphrodite representation after yn comments

whosyn YOU DONT EVEN NEED TO ASK BBG ➔ mayorcoco LUV UUUUU user58 yn commented and reposted 🤩!! ➔ mayorcoco we’re acc mutuals 😭 🙏 ➔ pjofangirl GIRLY U SO LUCKYY

liked by walkerscobell, leahsavajeffries and others yn.ln stole yn’s unlocked phone 😈 view comments

iamcharliebushnell WALKER WILLIAM SCOBELL GIVE IT BACK ➔ iamcharliebushnell this is yn btw ➔ yn.ln WHYD U REVEAL MY MIDDLE NAME ➔ iamcharliebushnell YOU DESERVE IT hearts4yn they’re so goofy 😭 ynloml this would be so confusing to read back on aryansimhadri i’d like to exclude myself from this narrative ➔ leahsavajeffries i plead innocent ➔ aryansimhadri i plead walker forced us to do this

liked by unavailable yn.ln why’s there so many shirtless charlie pics view comments

iamcharliebushnell WALKER ‼️ THIS POST IS NOW DELETED ‼️

liked by leahsavajeffries, dior.n.goodjohn and others iamcharliebushnell they both got their revenge (last pic is moments before yn pushed him down) view comments

yn.ln I DIDNT PUSH HIM ➔ walkerscobell yes u did ➔ leenascobell W yn ➔ dior.n.goodjohn real 🗣️ 🔥 💯 aryansimhadri did not expect walker forehead reveal ➔ walkerscobell didn’t expect for u to sing adele ➔ aryansimhadri STOP ➔ yn.ln drop the diss track 💯 leahsavajeffries i feel like we need context for 2nd pic ➔ iamcharliebushnell U WERE LITERALLY THERE ➔ iamcharliebushnell walker gave yn too much blue food colouring ➔ leahsavajeffries i gotta feed the ppl 😔 user34 stop i love this cast

a/n off topic but i love mayor coco on tt my favourite pjo fangirl frfr

[grimesthinker]

cw: fluff, basically daryl being soft for you. (fem!reader x daryl dixon) 776 wc

DARYL DIXON had no idea what to do when it came to someone like you. to say the least, he didn’t quite understand you. you had proved countless times you could take care of yourself, so you weren’t weak by any means. still, there were small things that made him really question you.

after daryl’s group got settled into alexandria, they had many new faces to meet, including yours. even though he wouldn’t admit it, daryl was instantly drawn to you. with rosy cheeks, long eyelashes and an innocent smile, he just couldn’t help it. he began to notice small things about you, like the clothes and accessories you wore. although your closet was obviously limited, you always tried your best to make your appearance seem fuller. sometimes you found pieces of cloth or silk, to which you would make bows out of to place in your hair. sometimes you made jewelry, even making a bracelet for daryl. you weren’t really expecting him to wear it, but he did.

one day, you asked daryl if you could join him on a supply run. “nah, i ain’t babysittin’.” he said in a grainy voice as he lit the cigarette between his lips. you didn’t let up though, using those big puppy-dog eyes to plead with him. “damnit girl, don’t ‘ya ever listen?” he grunted, but eventually gave in.

on the way back, unknowingly to both of you, a walker that been stuck in the leaves grabs your shoe and causes you to trip. daryl quickly shoots the creature with an arrow and helps you up. he watches as you grab his hand and gain back your balance. he can tell you’re flustered, as your cheeks grow darker than normal and you fail to meet his eyes. a shy thing, you could be sometimes. he studies you as you thank him and stutter an apology for not watching where you step.

instinctively, you touch your neck where your necklace rests, only there’s no necklace. panic begins to build and daryl can see it written all over your face. “you okay?” you look up at him, shaking your head. “my necklace…” your hand begins to shake a little, and daryl realizes. you’ve worn the same necklace since he first met you, a rusty gold chain with a heart shaped locket. he heard you speak about it to carl once, explaining how it had a picture of your family in it. you drop to your knees and start looking for it, daryl about to join you when you both hear growling in the distance. a herd is coming your way, daryl realizes and touches your shoulder. “hey kid, we gotta go.” he tells you, but you shake your head and continue to search. daryl watches as the herd moves closer, his frustration building as you’re putting yourself in danger. “get yer ass up girl, we gotta go.” he pulls you up, yet his gaze softens when he sees the tears that have already fell down your soft cheeks. “daryl, i can’t-“ you start, but he’s already pulling you both out of the way of the herd and back to alexandria.

a few days pass, and all daryl can think about is you and that damn necklace. you haven’t been the same since you guys returned, and everyone has noticed. usually, you’re the most talkative person in alexandria, but recently you’ve only been speaking when you have to. daryl winces when he thinks about it, absolutely hating the fact that you’re any kind of upset. after stealing a glance of you through your window and seeing the sullen expression on your face, he grabs his crossbow and heads into the woods. a couple hours later, he finds himself standing at your doorstep.

he knocks, and you answer with a soft smile. “hi daryl.”

“uh,” he clears his throat, holding his hand out with the gold necklace in it. “i had to fix the chain but the locket is still intac-“ you cut him off as you throw your arms around his neck and embrace him with a hug. “daryl!” his eyes widen as he stands, unsure what to do with his own arms as he registers the body pressed against his own. “thankyouthankyouthankyou!” you pull back, taking the necklace from his hand and clasping it around your neck. you look down at it before you place a kiss on daryl’s cheek. his stubble tickles you and you give a slight giggle, pulling him in for another hug. he’s taken back at first, but eventually wraps his own hands around your frame.

“you sure are stronger than ‘ya look, huh, girl?”