#walkin sticks

[antiqueanimals]

Elements of Zoölogy: A Text-book. Written by Sanborn Tenney. 1875.

Internet Archive

[tinychopperimages]

journey of a reindeer and his stick

[aego-philautia]

Ok random thought but I was thinking abt Chasca’s name, as you do, and trying to come up with like a cute nickname for her, you know, just because-

And I realized that her name didn’t really give way for any cute sounding nicknames until I realized how funny but also lowkey disrespectful it would be to call her “ChaCha” (like ChaCha real smooth AKDJSKFJ) and as much as I want to put more respect on her, that can’t NOT be her nickname now so every time I think of her I just hear ‘ChaCha real smooth’

[sad-mcmuffin]

what if i just started carrying around a wizard staff. for fun

[writersdrug]

My brain is open to your bartender Ghost thoughts

Give me them all 🙏

Lordy this au isn't even an hour old and I have so many thoughts

He doesn't really know what to expect when you come in the morning after the interview. At eight am sharp, he watches as you trudge inside, wearing ripped tights, shorts, knock off combat boots, and a baggy shirt that's messily tucked into your waistline. It looks like you had put on eye liner last night and gone to bed, black lines smudged in a perfect "bedhead" look.

"Really?" He asks, arms folded and muscles buddging. "Come t' the interview in a skirt 'n dress shirt, n' show up t' the first shift lookin' like a wannabe biker chick?"

You scoff, pulling your hair up into a bun. "Didn't realize I'd be walking into the asscrack of "The Devil Wears Prada"..."

He huffs and shakes his head. You hve tough skin - good.

He had Soap come in early that day - poor man usually worked between 4 pm 'til whenever Ghost decided to close. He's still rubbing his eyes and yawning when a pen and spiral notepad are shoved into your hands, Simon pushing you towards towards the cook's table with a hand on your back.

"Hey, welcome to the 141." You say, no attempt at politeness in your tone. Ghost huffs fondly, appreciating how you cut through the bullshit. "Any appetizers today?"

"None o' that keech," Soap says, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching his brow. "Canna have a rusty nail 'n th' smash grunded, wel doon 'n with the bun scud - cannae stand th' aoli. Chips oan the side."

You stare at him, eyes wide in disbelief, before turning to Ghost. "Do they all sound like that?"

He grunts. "If they're drunk."

"Are you drunk?" You ask Soap.

"Feck if I know, tryin' tae figure it oot myself." He groans.

Ghost helps you decipher the words Soap had vomited out. You successfully punch it into the POS, only needing a few pointers from the giant over your shoulder. For the rest of the morning amd afternoon, he taeaches you which button on the soda gun was which, the difference between tonic water and club soda, how to run the industrial sanitizer - with a "ye best make sure that shite is rinsed 'fore ye stick em in there" from Soap - where the new kegs go when Gaz brings them in, where to find napkins and condiments in the walkin, how to cut fruit for the bar, and lastly, how to split your tips.

"But why do I have to pay you?" You ask Ghost, sitting at a table with your calculator app on your phone and a basket of fries between the two of you. "You make loads of tips just pouring liquor."

He chuckles, watching you pop a fry into your mouth. "'N you get a cut of sales from the kitchen, since you're part of it."

You perk up at that. "I do?"

"Seven percent." He confirms. "A decent payout on weekends."

"And Soap doesn't get tips."

"Johnny boy gets paid by th' hour."

"I don't?"

"If ya do well enough, ya won't have to." He says, resting his meaty forearms on the table. "You'll be walkin' out with hundreds."

You chew your lip nervously; Simon's eyes linger on the movement, shifting his weight - the polyester seat creaks beneath him as he observes you fretting silently, the silence only broken by the sound of Soap prepping in the kitchen. "Don' worry too much 'bout it. You're young - jus' keep a smile on 'n you'll be fine. Soap 'n I got your back tonight, but I'm not pickin' up your slack after the week passes."

The fry you're steering towards your mouth falls to the table as Simon stands up. "Tonight?!" You exclaim, shimmying out of the booth.

"Yep. Sixteen hundred."

You glance at your phone. "That's in an hour!" There are kegs stacked by the front door, unpolished and enrolled silverware on the bar top, and half of the chairs are still stacked on the countertops.

"Best get to work then, hmm?" Ghost says, grabbing a container of lemons and moving behind the bar.

[thelaisydazy]

Firefighter!Simon Riley x Reader - Locked Out

“Riley! Bad dog!”

You don’t have time to look up before a familiar German Shepherd barrels into you, knocking you to the ground and sending your keys skittering across the sidewalk. 

You sputter as the dog licks your face before a hand grips Riley’s collar and pulls him off you. You wipe the dog slobber from your face and look up expecting to see Simon, instead you see a broad man with a short mohawk, attempting to reign in the overexcited dog. 

“Sorry leannan, dinnae mean fur ‘im tae get away from me,” he said as you started to get back on your feet. 

“S’alright,” you say, brushing off your pants. You give him a quick once over. He's wearing jeans and a tight fitting navy T-shirt with the fire department’s emblem on it. 

He gives you a lopsided grin. “Lek whit ye see, bonnie?” He teases. 

Your face feels warm as you attempt to stutter out a response. 

“I'm only joking, lasso,” he chuckles at your embarrassment. He glances at the bakery door. “Gett’n off yer joab? Ye must be that wee thing the LT acts so sweet aboot.”

You stare at him for several moments, having little idea what he's saying. “I uh… I was just getting off work yeah,” you finally say. “Bakery's closed for the day, sorry.”

“Oh naw, I wasn’t look’n tae buy anyfing,” he said warmly. “Jus’ walkin’ Riley ‘ere.” He stuck a hand out. “Ye can call me Johnny.”

You shake his hand, giving him your name as well. “It’s nice to meet you,” you say. “I don’t mean to rush off, but I need to get home.” You stick your hands in your pockets, finally registering that your keys weren’t in their usual place. You pat your other pockets before looking around at the ground. 

“Whit ye look’n fer?” Johnny asked. 

“My keys,” you say. “I think I dropped them when Riley ran up.” Your eyes scan the sidewalk before spotting the storm drain by the curb. Johnny seems to read your mind as he walks over and looks through the grate. 

“Wee charm oan it?” he asks. 

You groan. Of course your keys had fallen into the storm drain. How were you supposed to get into your apartment now? Your landlord was away on holiday and he hadn’t left a spare behind. He wouldn’t be back until tomorrow night. You’d just spend the night in the bakery, but you’d already locked up for the night and no one would be back until morning. 

Johnny seems to sense your distress as he claps you on the back, knocking you from your thoughts. “Ye can stay wi’ us at th’ station house,” he suggested. “We can even get yer keys oot th’ drain fur ye.”

“I don’t wanna be a both-” you start to say but are cut off by Johnny. 

“Dinna fash!” he beamed at you. “ Nae trouble at all.”

Before you could protest, Johnny wraps a muscular arm over your shoulder and starts to guide you back to the station, grinning to himself as Riley trotted happily next to you. Simon was going to love this.

---

As a treat, here's a second one today <3

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

“You don’t have to.”

“I know. But I want to.”

It had become a call and response of sorts, a mantra that Eddie seemed to live by, if not only for you. Usually his words were followed up by a kiss, something sweet pressed to your cheek. Or he’d pull you into him by your belt loops, hands a little rough but his intentions always soft, his face dropping to the crook of your neck so he could nuzzle his nose there, like he didn’t really know how else he could possibly give you all the love he had for you.

So when your car inevitably gave up, the clutch grinding and the gears sticking, Eddie didn’t hesitate. You didn’t even ask, always feeling bad for expecting but it didn’t come to a surprise when he took your keys from you and dropped a kiss to the corner of your mouth, a little off kilter from the early morning sleep that still clung to him.

“Eddie,” you began, as usual. Soft and shy and guilt ridden. “You don’t have to. I know you’re busy right now.”

“Never too busy for my girl,” he responded, wincing a little as he dug out his chocolate pop-tart from the still too hot toaster. He’d learnt the hard way not to use a knife anymore. He tore off a piece of pastry, a sprinkle on his cheek, ruby red. “Besides, what do I tell you, huh? I know I don’t have to - I want to, sweetheart.”

He grinned when you scrunched your nose, embarrassment and too much love clinging to you, Eddie’s adoration too obvious when he leaned down to where you sat with your coffee. He let you brush away the sprinkle, grumbling about how he was saving it for later but his protests died off on his lips when you stole them for a kiss, your hands on his stubbly cheeks.

The boy was pink when you pulled back, pleased looking and much more awake. Then, Eddie winked as he spun your keys around own finger, the rest of his breakfast bitten between his teeth as he left for work, always a flurry bed mussed curls and silver chains.

When he didn’t arrive home by five, you knew exactly why. It wasn’t too long a walk to the garage, but you knew he’d scold you all the same. That’s why you had a Tupperware box full of pasta in your hands, a foil wrapped cookie on top, still warm from when you’d pulled it from the oven.

Sure enough, when you arrived at the almost empty garage, your boyfriend was the only one left working. You passed Wayne as you ducked under the half closed shutter, sharing the same fond look of faux annoyance that you pretended to both have for the younger Munson and you promised the man there was more pasta for him at home.

Eddie didn’t see you approach, too busy with half of his body under the hood of your car, poking and prodding it with tools you didn’t know the name of. You made sure to make enough noise before you rested a hand on the small of his back, fingers skating over the bare strip of skin left exposed between his shirt and jeans.

His smile was too much when he appeared from the car, always happy to see you. And like you thought he would, despite his grin and the way his eyes lit up, he grumbled:

“What’re you doin walkin’ half way across town on your own, huh?”

You rolled your eyes even if you didn’t mean it, your expression still fond and you pushed his dinner to his chest. He accepted the food with a happy hum, peeking into the container to eye it appreciatively.

“It’s a twenty minute walk, handsome,” you replied. “And it’s very much still light out.” You smiled at his worry because the evening behind you was barely beginning, the summer sun still high enough in the sky to keep the sidewalks golden, the warmth lingering.

Eddie grumbled again, no real heat behind it as he leaned in for a kiss, careful not to put his dirty hands on you. “Still. You’re too pretty to walkin’ around alone.” Another kiss, this one softer, longer. “Thanks for dinner, sweetheart.”

You beamed, happy to have helped. “Least I can do since you’re fixing my car.” You frowned at the vehicle like it had offended you. “How’s it looking?”

“She’ll live,” Eddie sighed dramatically, giving the roof a pat. “If you remember to change her oil, that is.”

Your cheeks burned.

“But I’ve sorted the clutch, so that shouldn’t stick anymore and there’s a part needed for the gearbox, but I’ve got that on order,” the boy bit into his cookie, desperate for sugar. He moaned, a sinful noise that was meant for both you and the chocolate. “Hopefully it’ll be here tomorrow so I’ll do one more late night, get this hunka’ junk back on the road for you in no time.”

You knew it was a fruitless effort to ask Eddie to let you pay in anyway. Hell, Wayne would shut you down just as hard. Eddie didn’t want you paying for any of his hourly rates, overtime or not. And as he’d told you before, costs for parts could get lost sometimes, receipts slipping down the backs of desks, never to be seen again.

So you smiled at him instead, soft and sweet and warm like the summer. You didn’t mind the oil stains on his shirt as you leaned in, hands against his torso, feeling the faint lines of muscles and soft skin there.

“Thank you,” you murmured against his lips, stretching up on your toes to bump your nose against his. A kiss, tasting like chocolate chips, lingering and lazy. “I love you.”

Eddie went shy like he’d never heard you say the words before. Maybe you didn’t say them enough, maybe you needed to remind him hourly, especially if it got him looking at you like that, eyes all wide and soft and awe filled.

He pecked your lips, your cheek, your jaw, nose pushing at the space under your ear as he told you the same. “I love you too, pretty.”

You didn’t need to hear it back, as nice as the words sounded on his lips. Eddie showed you how much he loved you every single day.

[tteokdoroki]

finking about werewolf bakugo who smells when u are ovulating and acts as if u were in heat idk i just love the idea of reader who doesn't understand monster rituals until its too late x hybrid bakugo

૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, smut, hybrids, heat cycles, knots, breeding kink, ovulation, mentions of pregnancy (in the breeding sense), werewolf!bakugou

i might die i might die omg

imagine just waking up with werewolf!bakugou all over you, sniffing at your neck, rocking his hardness between your thighs because he can smell how fertile you are and the day has only just begun. it’s like you’ve been begging to be bred even in your sleep, whining because it’s too hot or because you’re in pain. he doesn’t understand why you try to run for him despite how wet you’re getting, push him off and complain about how hot it is. you need him, don’t you understand?

“katsuki get off, you’re heavy.”

“shuddap, spread yer legs, ‘m gonna give you pups. make it all go away.”

it’s his instinct, to take care of his precious little human and make sure you’re not experiencing any discomfort — and the only way werewolf!bakugou knows how to do that is to stuff you to the brim with his knot and his seed. make sure it sticks and gets you pregnant.

you have to watch your back around him fr because if you don’t he’ll bend you over the counter with his face between your thighs because that pretty ripe pussy won’t stop leaking for him. like you go to wash something in the sink and werewolf!bakugou is on his knees behind you, tail thumping on the floor like “don’t you feel that? ya need t’be bred.” tearing through your clothes from behind no matter how much you squeal. “can’t have you walkin’ ’round the place like a bitch in heat. yer mine to fuck.”

cause werewolf!bakugou only doing his duty, making sure his cock his nice and snug within your plush, juicy walls — painted with layers of his cum while he knots you. you’re confused, crying dumb on his cock, but not complaining — you’ll have him explain it all to you later. for now you’ll enjoy the way his hips are tied to you by gallons of his precum and your slick, frothing up white against your thighs.

[majinbangus]

idc :)

"Feelin' a bit mouthy today, Sergeant?"

That should have been your first hint to shut up.

"Just showing initiative, Captain. You know. Making sound assessments. Like most leaders would be able to do."

He turns his whole body to face you. That should have been your second hint to shut the fuck up. "Better watch yourself, kit. That mouth'll get you in trouble."

"Trouble worse than the one we're already in?" You can't help but snark with a disrespectful- foolish- roll of the eyes. Not like you'll have a future to worry about by the way things are going, hunkered down and surrounded by hostiles.

"Aye, because when we live through this," Captain MacTavish's hand shoots out to grip your nape and forces you look at him, "I'll personally see to it you won't be walkin' any time soon."

You know that look. You know that it means for your ass if you make it out of this like John believes you will. You know it'll be a bitch to sit down for a week or two. It should make the warning bells go off. Should make you defer to him without question. Yet you've always been one to play with fire.

You smirk. "But you're not gonna do anything about my mouth, sir?"

The scowl deepens and the smirk leaves your face with a squeak when his grip tightens, jerking you closer. Your palms hit his chest and he leans in, baring his teeth at you. "Trust me, kit, your mouth will get exactly what it deserves."

You gulp, bells ringing.

It would probably be wise to shut up now.

(Reinforcements arrive, taking you back home alive and relatively unharmed. For a brief, idiotic second you think you're safe. Until Captain MacTavish holds true to his promise and drags you off to his quarters by the scruff of your neck before you can avoid punishment.

An endless amount of spanks, a thorough throat fucking, and getting your ass used until only he gets to finish later, you learn your lesson about keeping your mouth shut.

For about a month or two.

But that's okay, Captain MacTavish doesn't mind drilling the lesson into you until it sticks.)

[princessbrunette]

when did you know you loved me? pt.2/4 ♡

kitty!reader knew she was being a menace when she posed the question. infact, she’d been bothering him with pointless shit all afternoon. she wanted attention, above anything else — and would climb all over him and attack the second she didn’t receive it. jj sat in his home, trying to unwind as he plays on the playstation — and lo and behold, kitty sits half on his lap, poking him whilst he tries his best to focus on the game.

“you hate me. i’ve decided.” the ridiculous statement comes out muffled through laying across jj’s lap with his forearm between your teeth as your boyfriend simply tries to win the battle onscreen. he blinks, lips parted in concentration as he thumbs at the joysticks— acknowledging what you’d said and choosing not to pander.

“yeah? you really think i just let chicks i hate climb all over me like this? you must think i’mma slut or somethin’.” he hums, a little less energetic than his usual chaotic self, but that was due to the intense week the two of you had.

he was used to you, and your often attention seeking ways when you were bored, understimulated, horny or neglected. he liked that about you, that although sometimes it’s hard to tell people what you really want — you’d never shy away from showing him.

“mhm. your other girlfriends.” you grump, and immediately have to hide your victorious smile when you hear the game pause instantly. you knew how to get his attention.

you wriggle into a sitting up position until you’re straddling his thigh, face to face with the boy.

“oh you are walkin’ on some mighty thin ice. y’wanna make those kinda accusations when you are in perfect tickling distance and i happen to know all of your worst tickle spots? mm—mm, bold move.” you sense the jokiness in his tone and know you’re off the hook when you feel his threatening fingers lightly jabbing at your waist, ready to tussle with you.

you flinch, grabbing his hands and shuffle closer on his lap— launching for what you really want.

“pay attention to me jj.” you whine, and even you knew you were being annoying. despite this, there’s a patience to him, one he only shows you. where demands from anyone else might cause jj to rage, he has endless reassurance for you.

“im payin’ attention to you right now, mama.” he reminds kindly and you soften a little, the gentle tone he only used on you tugging at your heart strings. swept up in a wave of affection, you throw your arms around his neck once more, sinking your teeth into his neck.

“um, ow?”

“aww, you do love me!” you coo, and to this the boy raises an eyebrow. placing two hands on your shoulders, he peels you off him so that you sit face to face, his eyes dancing between your own in concern.

“woahwoahwoah—wait a second. were you actually questioning whether or not i loved you? ‘cus you know i’d rather stick a bomb up my ass and light it than be with anyone else, right? tell me you know that.”

“i knooow, jj.” you roll your eyes, thinking for a moment before peering up at him through smudged black liner. “when did you know?”

the blonde blinks, a little dumb.

“when did i know… what exactly?”

“when you loved me. i wanna know everything. the exact moment you knew.”

he reclines in the seat now, yanking his black backwards cap off in thought to rake a hand through matted hair, sighing in thought as he thinks back to the start of your relationship. with the action, his matching black t-shirt rides up just a tad, and you take the opportunity to drag your clawed hand up along the sensitive skin beneath his belly button. he flinches, muttering an “easy.” before settling on a memory.

“a’ight so… it’s pretty random. n’don’t judge me but i think we’d only known eachother for like, pro’lly two weeks.”

you launch forward excitedly, getting in his face with a big and excited grin.

“tell me now.”

“alright alright, back up a little kittycat, damn.” he commands casually, readjusting you on his lap for his own comfort before delving into the memory. “‘kay so it was the first time you’d tagged along with me n’the pogues. i was kinda nervous, not gunna lie ‘cus like — i thought they were gonna say somethin’ to put you off or whatever… but anyway, the cops rolled up on us, as they always do, never mindin’ their own damn business…” he rambles and you shuffle excitedly on his lap.

“i remember that day.”

“right, so you’ll remember i had that glock — the one i definitely shouldn’t have had, n’it was all tucked into my waistband… and like, i was already in trouble with the cops, so i could not get caught with that thing on me right? i didn’t wanna get arrested infront of you.”

you follow along with your own memory, however your recount of this day was hazed by how aroused you were by the sight of him with the gun tucked so casually into his pants, walking around with an attitude, willing to whip it out at any moment to protect you. you recall riding jj into the bed that same evening because of it.

“mhm…” you encourage him along.

“so we had like — five seconds to spare, and you just turned to me, grabbed the gun, n’shoved it into that ugly ass purse i used to rag on you about.” he grins at the thought and you lean back, caught on the small offensive detail.

“ugly purse? what ugly purse? the fuck?” you crinkle your eyebrows and he waves a hand.

“oh like, the one that looks like a pair of titties?”

“my corset purse? i love that purse! jj!” you frown and he rolls his eyes, placing two hands on your cheeks to focus you.

“whatever okay, i love you and your titty bag. the fact is… you hid my gun for me, and i remember lookin’ at you and thinking ‘damn… this girl ain’t scared of nothing.’” the lighthearted tone of his storytelling moulded into something more sincere, something so rare from JJ — a satisfied smirk etched into his features.

a slow smile spreads across your own as you bat your spiky black lashes at the blonde. “and that’s when you knew?”

he leans in, eyes now on your lips. “oh that’s when i knew alright, baby.” he retaliates, before pulling you in for the kiss.

[boop-le-snoot]

masterlist

dirt

sundress+no panties+daryl = uh oh...

title and soundtrack is dirt by depeche mode. you need to take depeche mode away from me tbh, I'm hung up on the exciter album writing smut when I should be making updates to my negan and ironstrange fics.

I also headcanon daryl having huge fat swinging balls for some reason and I'm so sorry you had to read that I turn into an animal when I write daryl

cw: 18+, word count 3k. a little rough (butt slaps, some bites, he calls you a "bitch in heat" and a "slut" a couple of times - lovingly of course), a little pervy (you're fucking outside and daryl eats his own come out of your pussy+breeding kink if you squint really hard).

He reaches in, fingers curling around the bunched up, patterned cotton of the dress and his mind blanks. The low growling, he realises, is coming from his own mouth.

"The fuck, girl?"

You look at Daryl over your shoulder, where the bare skin has erupted in goosebumps from his hot, humid breath. "What?"

You sound annoyed, but there's a distinctive teasing undertone to it. Your eyes are narrowed a little too much. The corners of your cherry-tinted lips are tilted upwards.

"You ripped all my damn underwear, Daryl! What did you expect?" You grouch, breaking the second of still silence. "Can't just take a stroll to Victoria's Secret anymore, can I?" Seeing his face darken even more, you hastily add, "I got a couple I wear on runs."

You sound so cute when you're annoyed, Daryl thinks, but it's overshadowed by his blood rushing in his ears, hot and fast. His cock is still pulsing in his jeans and it demands to be released.

"So you jus' walkin' 'round with allat juicy ass hangin' out fo' all da men to sniff?" Daryl feels an urge to clarify to you, what is exactly you're doing, that he's upset with. "Cuz that's exactly what all them dawgs are fuckin' doin'!" He's jealous, of course he is, but most importantly, he doesn't trust any of the men as far as he can see them.

Hell, he isn't completely sure even Rick would pass on the opportunity to get an eyeful of your soft thighs, your scrumptious ass, or your fat cunt, for that matter.

Lord knows they're the juiciest fucking things he has seen in his whole entire miserable life. Just thinking about it makes his rock hard cock twitch and release a sad dribble of pre-cum in his pants.

"Exactly, your girl!" You declare, eyeroll audible in your voice. "Nobody's seein' me without my panties 'cept you."

Daryl's only response is to hitch up the sundress higher, the movement so quick, the fabric gives a sad crack as the seams threaten to burst. Your ass is still bare, still round and smooth as ever, nobody should have this sort of curves while they're in the middle of a damn apocalypse, he thinks, and sinks to his knees and sinks his teeth into the supple skin of your right ass cheek.

You yelp at the sharp pain. You squirm, your attempt at getting away, of course, futile: your hips and waist are firmly in his grasp. Rough fingertips dig into you, just shy of painful.

"There," Daryl inches back a bit, admiring the indentations left behind by his teeth. For someone who forgets to take care of himself most days, his teeth are surprisingly straight and white and strong. And he lets you feel it. "Now if any asshole decides to go nosin' where he shouldn't, there'll be a warnin'." Daryl sounds proud of himself, which is all and all - fair.

Once the initial shock subsides, your feel your cunt lips stick together even more as your arousal oozes out of them- and down your thighs, now that there isn't any fabric to contain it all. In all honesty, you did enjoy the occasional breeze that would waft up your skirt, even if it didn't offer much respite from the sweltering summer heat.

And Daryl is definitely not helping matters, either. He's like a damn furnace, pressed up against the back of your legs, all solid bulk, breathing hot and moist into your skin, every exhale going around the curve of your ass and disappearing between your legs. He knows it the moment that you shift in place, subtly trying to widen your stance even though there is nothing more you want than to rub your thighs together to provide relief to your swollen lips and throbbing clit.

He raises a hand, wide and open-palmed, and smacks your ass. "You're such a fuckin' slut," he grouses. And your first instinct is to gasp at the offense; you hide your grin in a lip bite. Yes, yes you are. And you know it. And he knows it. Your ass cheek jiggles as he gives it another well-aimed slap. "Lookit you," Daryl presses the issue, "drippin' wet." To hammer his point home, he takes a thick, fat finger and runs it along the seam of your cunt.

It glides easily. You shudder, biting back a moan. Your legs shake just a little, but Daryl notices - he always does - and his finger dips inside your lips. The rough, calloused fingertip swipes through your labia, stopping just short of your clit. You whine and he withdraws.

His numerous knives and tools clatter as he abruptly gets up.

"You wanna be fucked, huh?" Voice quiet, Daryl's front presses to your back with a malicious intent. The prominent bulge of his erection is pushing into your back. "Is that why you goin' round naked? So anybody coulda bend you over, anytime, huh?" He reaches around you, hand blindly nosing for your face. When he finds it, he wastes no time in prying your mouth open, sticking the damp finger inside.

Your own cunt, salty and tangy, blossoms on your tongue. The gesture makes you moan around his finger and him- he sticks another one in, keeping you quiet.

"Shut the fuck up," Daryl orders. The rasp in his voice makes your knees buck and your cunt weep and he knows it. His free hand moves at your back, and with the accompanying noises, you come to realise that he's opening his pants and hurrying to free his dick.

When the damp, silky tip touches the bare skin of your ass, your body reacts before you do. Your mouth wraps tighter around his fingers. Spit dribbles from the corners of your mouth and onto his wrist. Your back arches into his body. He is just as scalding as the sun beaming down from the sky.

Daryl pushes his fingers deeper into your mouth, holding them there until you gag. The motion makes your whole form spasm and shiver; his cock gives a responding jump of its own.

"Lookit you," he rasps directly into your ear, hot breath tickling the shell of it. "Like a fuckin' bitch in heat," he grabs the meat of your ass cheek, spreading you one-handed. His cockhead noses around the cleft, leaving a sticky trail behind itself. It dips near your cunt, adding your juices to the mix. "You want it so bad."

You do. You really, really do. But you know Daryl is mean. You love it when he's mean to you. When he is proud of the strength of his bulk, when his eyebrows draw tightly over his brilliant blue eyes and nothing, absolutely nothing can escape his predatory stare. You crane your neck, trying to look back at him, to plead with your eyes.

He gets it, because he always does. Daryl's fingers quickly leave your mouth, dragging a wet trail of spit down to your neck where his fingers wrap around it in a secure hold.

"You want it so bad, then fuckin' beg," he says the words and you immediately, greedily descend into the permitted depravity.

"Please, Daryl," your voice sounds hoarse, interrupted by hiccups as you struggle to swallow the saliva that had pooled in your mouth and around his fingers, "please, fuck me. I'll be good. Please."

You feel him fist his cock as it twitches; you can't help it, really, as you arch your back even more and push your ass against his rough hand. Immediately, he withdraws it, just to slap you again.

"You're a bitch in heat," he muses, but you can hear the beginnings of impatience in his voice. "Say it!"

He's never made you do that before. Wide-eyed and open-mouthed, you gasp, part shock part offense, until you feel a drop of fluid roll out over the outer lip of your cunt and fall and disappear somewhere below you. Then it's just lust. The kind that tints the whole world red and narrows your field of vision.

"Fuckin' say it!" Daryl demands, patience thin.

You wouldn't put it past him to just shove himself in at this point. "I'm... I'm a bi- I'm a bitch in heat," you hiccup, feeling your face flood with heat. "I'm a bitch in heat, please fuck me!"

You feel his lips tilt up just the tiniest bit against your ear before he reaches back for his cock and aims it at your cunt in a single, precise thrust. You gasp and mewl as he suddenly stops halfway through. Your cunt ripples and flexes and squeezes. Daryl drops his forehead onto your shoulder, panting.

"So fuckin' tight," he murmurs, mostly to himself. You're not - he knows better, he makes sure you're not before he even thinks about sticking it in - but you are. All that blood that went straight to your cunt the moment his breath caught up in his throat at the sight of your bare pussy - It's making your cunt swell all around him.

A pathetic mewl leaves your lips, your satisfaction incomplete. You wiggle, you arch, but Daryl is as unyielding as ever.

"You take what I give you," he growls, teeth bared like an animal against your ear. Nonetheless, you feel the tip of his cock kiss your cervix. Stars burst in your eyes. You are so full, practically bursting at the seam of your cunt where his fat balls rest against the stretched hole.

Slowly, Daryl withdraws, both of you hissing at the drag of his fat cock in your engorged cunt. You may be a bitch in heat but he's every bit the stud that is just as fervent and feral to breed you. His teeth creak as he pulls back completely, leaving just his weeping tip inside of you.

And then he slams home. And again. And again. And again.

With every powerful thrust of his hips, you gasp. Quiet, pleading moans is the limit of your vocal capacity. Mouth dry, the air gets trapped in the back of your throat as your lungs demand their due.

Daryl is unrelenting. His blunt fingernails drag over the skin of your throat, leaving marks in their wake, as he makes way to your mouth.

"This is what you wanted, slut?" He pants into your hair. "Be quiet. Be really fucking quiet unless you want everybody to see what kinda..." He inhales sharply, feeling your walls flutter at the flith dripping from his tongue.

And it shouldn't make you feel the way you feel. Those fucking words just add more accelerant to the fire in the pit of your stomach, spreading it from there and up, over your face. It flames. Your hand helplessly clutches the nearest surface as you attempt to brace yourself against his thrusts and the notion that anyone could see you.

Bent over something or another, dress hiked up to your waist and Daryl's hips pistoning in and out of you at a rapid pace. He didn't bother undressing save for letting his pants hang freely just below his cock and balls. Heavy, fat balls, littered with coarse dark hair, that slap against your cunt and your clit with a resounding smack every time he drives his cock inside of your cunt. The squelching noise it makes is obscene.

Another whine, and your pussy squeezes him once again, blind and hungry for release. You can feel it building steadily, deep within your abdomen.

"Fuck yeah," Daryl growls, "you fuckin' like this, don't 'cha?" He's gotten the hang of it: the dirty talk, he knows exactly how to get under your skin. He's a mean bastard with nothing close to dignity or self-respect. If anyone saw him, rutting into you, little more than two animals, he wouldn't, couldn't stop.

Daryl would stare them down up until his cock swelled and busted, depositing his seed inside your womb.

Your knees feel weak. It's getting harder and harder to keep up with him; seems like every pathetic whimper that leaves your lips only makes him meaner, stronger somehow. The grip of his hand on your hip is bruising. Daryl effectively wears you on his cock, submerging himself into the warm depths of your pulsing cunt over and over.

"Da-Daryl..." You gasp, you moan and you plead.

He doesn't stop. He merely handles you into a different angle, the one that hits that special spot inside of you with every powerful thrust. He is mean, but he is also fair.

"Gonna cream my cock?" He barely makes sense to himself, the words that his dry mouth garbles seem to have a mind of their own. "Gonna be good, girl? C'mon."

"Ah," you want to say yes, you want to affirm, but all that comes out of your mouth are garbled, unintelligible noises of pleasure. But Daryl sees it. It's in the way your arch becomes near-painful, body overtaking your mind. Even the slightest bit of pain blends into hot-blinding pleasure. You don't know where what ends and begins.

It begins somewhere behind your cunt. The contractions start slow and aching, and every punch of his cock to your guts intensifies the feeling tenfold, until every last inch of your cunt is squeezing around him in that same arduous, suckling rhythm. It's like your pussy is nursing at his cock, attempting to suck his life out of him and deposit it into you.

The pleasure is like a wall of fire and water. Your chest blooms with it, but your extremities swarm with pinpricks. Mouth parted in a silent scream, you sway forward, managing to catch yourself on your elbows at the last moment.

The man behind you doesn't care. He's way past caring, having had started chasing his release the moment your cunt enveloped his cock in a vice grip. The meat of it is sensitive and he spends the few inches to the finish line gracelessly mashing it inside of you, accompanied by the sound of wet flesh meeting even wetter, sloppier flesh.

"Take it, fuckin' take it," you hear him gasp through your stupor before that familiar, warm rush floods your cunt. His cock twitches, once, twice, three times, each forceful throb followed up by more and more seed being pumped into the depths of you.

Against your back, Daryl sags and pants out his excerption. Like a dog. His wet nose leaves sweat stains on your back where he nuzzles into you.

Your knees shake as you struggle to hold up his weight, and then your legs completely turn to mush when droplets of his cum escape your cunt as his spent cock slips out. You know you should be worried about stains in unsightly places but somehow, you can't bring yourself to care.

Daryl notices this, of course. His bulk slides off you; you hear him quickly shove himself back into his pants before his ass hits the ground with a loud thud. Next to you, of course, his stubbly, prickly cheek rubbing over the skin of your leg. He places a wet kiss on the inside of your thigh, and then another.

You know the drill. It's hard for him to find words, sometimes, after a scene like that. It's the intensity of it, the forceful ejection of him out of his head where he spends most of the time, that renders him speechless. Daryl is forced to feel - good things. It's not something that he is used to.

Your skirt is still around your waist and the hot sun is shooting lasers directly at your ass and pussy. You've managed to get your bearings enough to feel at least a little self-conscious, a little exposed. Your combined fluid still drip from you and for a split second, you think about pulling up your panties to try and at least somewhat contain the mess.

Right, you sigh to yourself. It makes your exhausted body twitch and sag even more.

Daryl gently pushes away your hand that was attempting to pull the dress over your ass. You freeze; he smiles against your skin, a little closed-lipped grin that makes something warm and fuzzy make a nest inside your chest. That quickly turns into a startled gasp as his fingers glide through the mess of your cunt.

You're spent. Exhausted. So sensitive, his rough skin practically hurts on your hole and clit.

But Daryl gets it. You get him, and he - he gets you. His hot breath fans over your pubic hair and it's all the warning you get before he opens his mouth wide, flattens his tongue and licks. You've made a big mess and there is a lot to take care of, but if there's anything about Daryl that you know, is that he's thorough at what he does.

In no time, he's got his tongue shoved down your cunt as far as it would go, curling against your walls, lapping up his and your cum like your pussy is an all-you-can-eat-buffet and what's inside of it is sugar and spice and everything nice.

But it's not enough. It's not anywhere near your clit, or any other place that could make you produce more of the cream he's feasting on. Idly, you think about who's the real bitch in heat here, but push out your hips to meet his face nonetheless. You can be mean too. If you want to.

I don't know what to say for myself

[shotmrmiller]

PAUSE! OH MY GOD. writing a soap smut got me thinking. 

As a medic in base, you see the 141 guys all the time. Whether in passing or because they get injured, you’re always interacting with them. Your particular lack of response at Ghost’s irritated glare after reprimanding him for being unable to keep his stitches intact during training is what solidified your friendship with Johnny— what Soap tells you to call him.

Every time Johnny goes out, he likes to drag you along and this is where you notice peculiar interactions between him and Ghost.

The way Ghost gives Soap Johnny his full attention when he’s speaking, turning his entire body to face him, even if it’s something completely trivial. Or how Johnny stresses over Ghost who’s injured on your med table and Ghost will comfort him. When going on a mission, if one goes, so does the other.

You wonder if there's something else going on.

—

You get your answer.

One day you’re knocking on Johnny’s door because it wouldn’t be the first time he’s tried to weasel out of a physical. You’d think getting shot would hurt more than a vaccine but here you are— about to twist his scottish ear off. The door finally opens, and you barge in because you aren’t about to cause a scene in the middle of the hallway when you freeze. 

Ghost is in Johnny's room, lying on the bed. If looks could kill, Ghost’s would’ve leveled the base. And he’s naked under the sheets— if that tree trunk-sized bulge is what you think it is. It doesn't even look hard. Bloody hell. 

You shift your gaze towards Soap, and your eyes drop— he's clad in nothing but a towel that hangs dangerously low on his hips. 

Massive. These men just walkin’ round with weapons in their pants.

Shaking off those thoughts, you shift your attention to his face.

“Meet me at the clinic in 10 or so help me god, Johnny.” and walk out the door.

You hear a muffled "Yes ma'am" , and a hiss escapes your lips.

That cocky smile Johnny had means he definitely saw you ogling them. 

—

A week passes and it’s a friday. You can’t wait to lock yourself in your barracks room and watch movies the entire weekend— you plan to start as soon as you're off the clock.

And then other medics twist your arm into going out for drinks.

Now you find yourself seated at a table in a lively bar, indulging in shots of tequila. As you glance around, your eyes catch sight of Soap and Ghost standing near the bartender. It appeared that some woman is talking to Johnny and he has a polite, detached smile on his face. Always too kind to strangers.

Then she starts caressing his thigh.

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. Right in front of Ghost’s salad? You lock eyes with Ghost and he looks murderous. Jesus.

You usually don't stick your nose in others' business, but if you don’t intervene, Ghost might actually kill her in her sleep. Besides, tequila has always made you bold.

With a confident stride, you make your way towards Johnny and remove that woman’s hand before settling yourself snugly on his lap— and you wrap his arms around your waist.

“And who is this?” you ask Soap, but the girl questions back.

“No. Who are you?” 

Bitch. 

Curling your upper lip, you answer, “I’m the one he comes in every night hoping it takes. Now leave before I make you,” completely ignoring the massive bulge pressing up into your arse.

She looks at you with a bewildered expression, but doesn't move so you finish off with, "Try it. Just a warning though, it'll be hard to fight when the fight ain't fair."

You cock your head to the side with a taunting expression and the woman scoffs before walking away. Noticing she left her almost full drink behind, you give it to the bartender to toss in the trash. She's just gonna have to get another one.

Your act comes to an end, so you shift to stand up— and realize that the arms encircling your waist tighten, keeping you on his lap. His clothed cock.

“Ye didnae think we’d let ye go after yer little show, did ye?” 

Unless Johnny’s speaking french, he just said we. You'd be nervous but you aren't about to decline what could be the best sex of your life. The want you feel in Soap's pants has you riding a certain high— it makes you feel confident.

Grabbing onto the edge of the bartop, you swivel the stool you're on to face Ghost. 

“And this okay with you? I wouldn’t be stepping on any toes, or nothin’?”

Ghost swiftly lifts you from Johnny's lap and places you onto his own.

“Does this answer your question?” and draws you closer before grinding his erection against you.

And it sure as hell does. Slapping the counter, you ask for some water. If this night is going to end with you sandwiched between these two, you want to remember all of it.

reader's a boss ass bitch. GET IT CHILE.

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Man On a Wire

A/N: somehow this worked again I really hope you loves like this!

Request - Anonymous asked: For a dialogue, how about Remus thinking you like Sirius so when you ask him to a library date he thinks it's a prank or to make Sirius jealous and he says no. Remus then finds out you were talking with Sirius about him and apologizes.

Warnings: insecurities on Remus' part, making him be a biiit of an asshole, but I think that's it! let me know if I missed anything, also is like 2am here and this is not proofread

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D  

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Man On a Wire

I feel like I'm walkin' on a tight rope My heart is in my throat, I'm counting on high hopes to get me over you

You kept walking back and forth in front of the Quidditch Pitch.

“You need to calm down, love. It’s only a question” Alice tried to reassure you.

“B-but what if he says no?” you asked, feeling anxious.

“He’s not gonna say no” she insisted.

“You don’t know that. There might be a million reasons why he would say no” you said, making your best friend glare at you. “O-okay maybe not a million but… a f-few” you shrugged.

“Hey, ladies” you heard Sirius approaching and landing next to the two of you. “What are you still doing here? We’re gonna be done in a few minutes” he said looking at you.

“She’s second-guessing herself” Alice told him.

“C’mon, love. We’ve been through this. I’ve told you a million times. I know first-hand, Remus is basically in love with you-” Sirius said, rolling his eyes.

“L-love? You never said anything about love, Black!”

“I didn’t think I needed to. He looks at you worse than Prongs looks at Lily or Frank looks at this one” he said, pointing at Alice.

“Hey, don’t drag Frank into this” Alice glared at him.

“My point is, it’s time you both just stop being stupid and get together” he simply said.

“But what if he says no?”

“Why would he say no?”

“I don’t know!”

“He’s not gonna say no, okay? So, just, go up there and we’ll be out here waiting for you two idiots to come out holding hands and we can go to dinner” Sirius said before he started pushing you towards the bleachers, where Remus was sitting.

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” you said, looking at your best friends one last time and taking a deep breath.

You started climbing up the empty stairs and walked over to one of the highest bleachers where you knew Remus always read while he waited for his friends to be done with practice. Not that you knew his every move you just… noticed. You felt your heart beating faster when you spotted him. He was so enthrallingly handsome, it was ridiculous. You always heard girls talking about how stunning Sirius was and, you didn’t disagree, Sirius was very attractive. But Remus’ beauty was completely different. It was hypnotizing. Which is why you were extremely worried about asking him out.

You gripped your books to your chest a bit tighter and made your way over to his spot. He was so concentrated on his book that his tongue was sticking out a little and he was resting his head on his right hand as he read. You cleared your throat a little, getting his attention and making him look up at you.

“Um… h-hello, Remus” you smiled, nervously.

“Hi” he smiled back at you.

“I am sorry to um b-bother you” you started. “Uh, is it okay if I join you?”

“Oh, yeah, sure” he said, getting up and scootching a little to make room for you. How were you not supposed to fall in love with this man?

“Um, th-thank you” you said, placing your bag on the floor and taking your books out. “So, um… what are you reading?”

“Oh” he said, marking the page on his book. “Um, I’m reading A Murder is Announced” he said, showing it to you. “Have you read it?”

“Oh, yes, I read this last year. It’s a really good book. Are you enjoying it?”

“I am” he nodded. “So, what brings you to the Quidditch Pitch today?” he asked, all of the sudden.

“Oh, w-well, there’s a match on Friday” you said. “... right?”

“Right” he smiled. “Are you planning on coming to the match?”

“W-well, I don’t know. I’m not much of a Quidditch fan, as you know” you said, feeling your cheeks burn. “S-so, I thought maybe if I watch them practice I might understand it a little bit better?” you said, nervously.

“Why the sudden interest?” he asked, curiously.

“Um, I don’t know” you said, nervously running a hand through your hair. “It’s our last year, so… I promised myself to try new things” you smiled wearily. “So, um… do you think you can explain some of it for me?”

“Um… sure” he said, putting his book down. “I mean, I’m not the best myself but I did read Quidditch Through the Ages” he said, making you laugh a little. “So, Prongs is the captain” he said, pointing at his friend. “He, Sirius, and Kurt are Chasers. So, they have to get the Quaffle through the hoops” he instructed.

“Okay, that doesn’t seem that complicated” you said.

“Right, but it’s the Beater’s job to throw the Bludgers at them and prevent them to do so” he told you. “Fabian and Gideon are really good. But, we’re playing Ravenclaw on Friday and their Beaters are quite ruthless” he explained.

“So, I take it you’re coming to the match on Friday?”

“I am” he nodded. “I never miss a Gryffindor match” he smiled.

“Oh, Merlin! Look at him! He looks even better with his hair like that” you heard a group of girls a few steps down and to your right. They were ogling and sighing over Sirius, who wasn’t as far, brushing his sweaty hair with his hand.

“Ugh, I know! He’s stupidly handsome” another one giggled.

“So… Sirius has his own cheerleading section?” you chuckled.

“Yeah, he kind of does” Remus told you as Sirius made his way over to the group of girls in his broom.

“Hello, ladies” he said, flashing his signature handsome smirk at them, making them giggle and they all started complimenting him.

When he spotted you, he quickly sent a wink your way. You failed to see Remus rolling his eyes as he started putting his stuff in his bag, which is why he failed to see Sirius widening his eyes at you before pointing at Remus hinting that you needed to ask him. You sighed, rolling your eyes, and took a deep breath one more time.

“Um, R-Remus?”

“Yes?” he asked, looking back at you.

“Um, w-well, I was um…” you stuttered nervously. “C-could I ask you something?”

“Sure” he said, turning to look at you.

He noticed you were nervously playing with your hands before you looked at Sirius one last time and then you finally faced him. He prepared himself to hear you ramble on about how much in love with Sirius you were and if he could help you fix a date with him or something.

“W-well, I was w-wondering if, uh-” you said, again. “If you’re not busy on F-Friday, um… m-maybe you’d like to um…” you stammered. “G-go with me to the Library to study, b-before the match?” you managed to finally spit out. You felt your heartbeat increase as you waited for your answer.

“What?” Remus frowned.

“O-or if you’re busy we can c-come to the match?” you tried, smiling nervously. “O-or I b-believe it’s a Hogsmeade weekend-”

“What’s your angle?” he asked you all of the sudden, taking you by surprise.

“Um… a-angle?”

“Honestly, if you want to go out with Sirius, just ask him” he said, standing up and grabbing his bag.

“Sirius? W-what are you talking about-?”

“You know, a lot of girls have asked me what’s the best way to ask him out but none of them have sunk so low to the point of pretending that you would like to spend with me to get closer to him-”

“That’s not what I was-” you tried to explain, getting up yourself.

“What is it then? Are you trying to make him jealous or something?”

“What? No! Remus, I don’t-”

“You know what? No, thank you. I honestly have better things to do than to spend a day with you talking about Sirius” he said before walking away, leaving you standing there, mouth opened, dumbfounded. You didn’t even hear the last things he said. The only words ringing in your ears were ‘No, thank you. I honestly have better things to do than to spend a day with you.’

Your eyes kept looking at him as he climbed down the stairs and you saw the group of girls that were looking at Sirius. They all looked at you with sorrow in their eyes. They felt sorry for you. You had just been rejected in front of them. You felt your eyes starting to water as you saw Alice running towards you.

“Hey, what happened? I just saw Remus leaving-”

“He said no” you silently said as a few tears ran down your cheeks.

“What? Why?”

“He said he- um” you tried to explain to your friend as she sat you down. “He thought I was asking him out b-because I wanted to get closer to Sirius” you said.

“What? That’s ridiculous! Why would he think that?”

“I don’t know” you said. “I tried to tell him that wasn’t the case b-but he didn’t let me explain and he left” you finished, crying a little harder.

“Hey” Sirius said, flying over to the two of you. “What happened? Why are you crying?”

“Remus said no” Alice informed him as she hugged you.

“What? Why?”

“He thought she was only asking him because she wanted to ask you out” Alice explained.

“He said that?” Sirius asked you and you slowly nodded. “I’m gonna bloody kill him” he muttered under his breath. “Look, love, I’ll talk to him, okay?”

“N-no, it’s okay” you said, trying to stop more tears from falling. “I d-don’t think Remus likes me that way anyways” you said, sadly.

“Don’t say that, love” Alice insisted. “Let’s just go to dinner and we can talk things through” she suggested.

“I’m not hungry” you said, pulling away and grabbing your things. “You guys should go” you smiled sadly at them. “I think I’m just gonna go to my dorm” you told them, eying the group of girls who were now leaving.

“No, we can talk to Remus-”

“Go and rest, okay? I’ll bring you something” Alice interrupted Sirius.

“Thanks guys” you smiled weakly at them. “I’ll see you tomorrow” you said before making your way out.

“Bye, love” Sirius said before turning to Alice. “I’m going to kill Remus” he repeated.

“If you don’t, I will” she replied.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“What the bloody hell is your problem?” Sirius asked when he burst into his dorm.

Remus was reading a book, James was coming out of the shower, and Peter was just sitting there waiting for everyone to get ready so they could go to dinner.

“Which one of us are you talking to, Pads?” James asked, confused.

“Why don’t you ask your stupid friend Moony” Sirius said, glaring at him.

“What are you talking about?” Remus frowned confused.

“Oh, you’re going to play dumb? So we’re just going to pretend that nothing happened back in the Quidditch Pitch and you didn’t make anyone cry?”

“What?” James and Peter asked at the same time.

“Again, what are you talking about? Nobody cried” Remus said, closing his book and getting up.

“Really? Are you sure about that, Moony? Are you really sure?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Padfoot. You have no idea what happened!”

“Oh, really? So, you didn’t reject her when she asked you out?”

“What? Who asked you out?” James asked, interested.

“Nobody-”

“Nobody? Really? The girl that you have practically been in love with for years is now nobody?”

“What? She asked you out?” Peter asked.

“You said no?” James asked, extremely confused.

“She didn’t ask me out, okay? She was only asking to spend time with me to get closer to you!”

“What?” James and Peter asked again. “That doesn’t make any sense!” James said.

“Yeah, what are you talking about, mate?” Peter asked.

“Why the fuck would she want to get closer to me? We’re friends!”

“Because she’s in love with you, just like every other girl in this stupid school is, apparently!” Remus snapped.

“You see? You see how stupid your friend is?” Sirius told James.

“Stop talking to me as if I’m not here! And stop calling me stupid!”

“Mate, you are stupid! You truly are if you think she was only asking you out to get closer to Sirius!” James told him.

“Shut up! I saw the way that she was looking at him! You winked at her, and all of the sudden she’s interested in Quidditch and she wants to go to the match on Friday, and I’m supposed to believe she doesn’t fancy you?”

“Mate, I highly doubt she’s interested in Quidditch” Peter laughed.

“Yeah, she’s as interested in Quidditch as she is in Padfoot” James added.

“Moons, I winked at her because I knew she was nervous about asking you out. See, it was actually the other way around. She came to me and asked me how she could ask you out” he explained.

“W-what?” Remus asked, feeling terrible.

“Do you honestly not know how much in love with you she is?” Peter asked, confused.

“Yeah, she’s always looking at you, mate” James told him.

“She’s n-not” he insisted, trying to convince himself that he hadn’t just turned you down and that you were not in love with him. “She likes Padfoot. She’s always with him-!”

“Yeah, talking about you, you idiot!” Sirius told him. “She’s always asking what your favorite books are, what movies do you like, and what would be the best way to ask you out! And when she finally got the courage to do it, you said no” he explained.

“Holy shit” Remus muttered to himself, plopping on his bed again. “I am so stupid” he stated.

“Yes, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, mate” Sirius said, sitting next to him. “So, what are you going to do?”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Throughout the next few days, Remus tried endlessly to find you so he could apologize but it was useless. You were avoiding him like the plague. Even when he tried using the Map, it was as if you were one step ahead of him. He looked for you in the Library, where he thought you’d be even if he said no, but you were nowhere to be found. He hoped you would make it to the match on Friday, but again, you were a no-show.

It wasn’t until Saturday when he begged Alice to drag you to Hogsmeade so he could just ‘casually’ run into you. It took him and Sirius to convince her since she was still mad at Remus for rejecting you, but she caved.

So, here you were, on your way to Hogsmeade as a third wheel on Alice and Frank’s date, although they insisted it wasn’t a date, so Marlene and Dorcas were here too. So, all in all, you were fifth-wheeling.

“Come on, love. It’s gonna be fun!” Marlene said, linking her arm with yours. “We can do whatever you’d like!”

“Yeah, we can go to the Three Broomsticks, or Tomes and Scrolls, or the music shop” Dorcas suggested.

“To be honest with you, girls, I kind of just want to go to Honeydukes to get as much candy as I can carry and then go back” you said with a sad sigh.

“What? No, love, it’s a beautiful day!” Marlene insisted.

“Look, we have some errands to run, why don’t you go to Honeydukes to get some candy, and then we can meet at the Three Broomsticks?” Alice suggested as you entered the village.

“Um… can’t I just by my candy and go-”

“No!” Dorcas and Marlene said in unison. “We’re gonna head to the Three Broomsticks to get a booth, so you better come there after buying your candy” Dorcas added.

“Ugh, fine!” you said, frustrated.

In all honesty, all you wanted to do was buy an endless amount of candy and go back to your dorm. Ever since Remus rejected you, you felt people watching you everywhere you went. You could hear them talking about you and you were certain that the girls that witnessed the entire thing had already spread around your very much public rejection. Which is why you had been avoiding going out of your dorm as much as you could.

You turned around to make your way to Honeydukes, completely missing that your friends joined James, Peter, Lily, Remus, and Sirius at the Three Broomsticks.

“You’re up, Lupin” Alice said, still glaring at him as the rest made their way inside the pub.

Remus took a deep breath before he followed you into the sweetshop. He spotted you on one of the furthest shelves, holding, or trying to, as many sweets as you could in your hands. He felt a sweet smile forming on his face as he watched you. A small part of him still thought that Sirius was wrong. That there was no way that you could ever be interested in someone like him.

But his heart fluttered more intensely with each step he took towards you, and he knew that whether Sirius was right or wrong, he still needed to apologize to you for the way he spoke. When one of the many chocolate frogs you had fell on the floor, he quickly made his way over to you and picked it up.

“Um, here, I think you dropped this” he said, making you turn around to face him. His heart ached a little when the smile dropped off your face when you saw it was him.

“Oh… um” you said, grabbing the treat from his hand. “Thanks” you smiled nervously.

“How have you been?” he asked, cursing himself silently. “I uh… didn’t see you at the match yesterday” he added.

“Right… I wasn’t really in the mood to go” you smiled firmly.

“Oh” Remus said, feeling even worse. “W-well, you missed a good match” he chuckled. “Gryffindor won” he said.

“I heard” you replied noticing a few people looking your way. “Um, I should uh- probably get going” you said, as you were going to start making your way out, but you felt Remus gently grab your arm and turn you around.

“Wait!” he said, getting even more attention from the students around you. “Um, I…” he felt his heart beating a little faster. He didn’t like dragging this much attention to himself and he wanted to ask you to go somewhere a bit more private. But, firstly, he didn’t think you’d like to go anywhere with him until you apologized and secondly, he very much publicly rejected you, so maybe he had to do the same thing. “I wanted to apologize to you” he blurted out.

“Oh, R-Remus, you don’t have to-”

“Yes, I do” he said, getting closer to you and pulling you a little away. “I’m really sorry about the way that I spoke to you” he said. “I’m sorry for assuming that you were just talking to me to get closer to Sirius-”

“Why did you think that?” you asked all of the sudden.

“E-excuse me?”

“Why would you think that the only reason I would talk to you or wanted to spend time with you would be to get closer to someone else?” you asked. “I mean, I thought- I thought we were friends… Is that… um… is that what you think of me?” you asked, sadly.

“What? No!” he assured you. “I don’t- we are friends” he insisted. “I just…” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, here it goes” he said, taking a deep breath. “I like you, love” he started. “I really like you. I’ve liked you so much for so long, I’m pretty sure that I’m very much in love with you” he confessed. “But, I never in a million years thought that y-you could like me like that” he said. “I thought that you were only interested in Quidditch because you wanted to see Sirius and I saw him wink at you, so my reasoning was that you liked him because, for some reason every girl in school does, and that would be the logical thing-”

“The logical thing would be for me to like Sirius?”

“Well, yes” he said as if it was obvious.

“Why?”

“Why would you have any interest in spending time with me then?”

“Because I like you, you big idiot!” you blurted out, frustrated.

“Y-you do?”

“Yes! I figured Sirius might have told you by now, or you might have heard it from the entire school who apparently knows and you’re the only one who’s still oblivious to it!”

“Well, to be honest, Sirius did say something but, I still wasn’t entirely sure that it was true-”

“Why, Remus? Why do you think it’s so impossible for me to be in love with you?”

“L-love? Did you just say love?” he asked, smiling.

“I uh-” you said, realizing you just let it slip. “Well, you said it first!”

“Well, yes, because it makes sense for me to be in love with you, but it doesn’t make sense for you to be in love with me!”

“What? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! Why?”

“Why? Oh, I don’t know, maybe we should discuss this on the next lunar phase” he said, muttering the last words.

“Oh, Merlin! Really? Is that what this is about?”

“For starters!” he argued. “Trust me, it would make a lot more sense if you liked Sirius! He’s handsome and always laughing, he’s funny and witty-”

“Remus, are you trying to tell me that I should be in love with Sirius? Or that you are in love with Sirius?” you smirked a little.

“That’s not what I meant!” he glared at you. “Look, I just… I never thought that someone like you would ever want to be with… someone like me” he muttered the last part.

“Wow, you really are an idiot, aren’t you?” you chuckled as Remus rolled his eyes.

“Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Who called you an idiot?”

“Sirius!” he complained.

“Aw” you smiled. “Well, we can be two idiots in love, or you can just reject me again. It’s your move, Lupin” you told him.

Remus bit his bottom lip, trying to prevent his smirk from getting bigger. He walked closer to you and gently pulled you closer to him by your waist before he leaned down to press his lips against yours. You suddenly dropped all the candy you had in your hands and you quickly wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“I choose two idiots in love” he smiled before kissing you once more.

“Good answer, Lupin” you smiled.

“Oh, I also wanted to ask” he said, grabbing your sweets and placing them in a basket. “If you’re not too busy if you… wanted to go on a date with me?”

“Well, I told Dorcas and Marlene I would go to the Three Broomsticks-”

“Yes, they are all waiting for us to get there” he informed you.

“Oh, okay, so that’s a no on the Three Broomsticks then” you said, as you walked over to pay for your things.

“I think that’s for the best” he smiled.

“Well then, it looks like my day is free” you said, as Remus held your hand when you walked out of Honeydukes.

He pulled you back a little and kissed you once more. “I really am sorry, love” he smiled.

“I know you are, Rem” you smiled back at him.

“So, does this mean you’ll keep me company on Quidditch matches?”

“If you’re there, I guess I can be there” you smiled as he kissed you again, neither of you noticing your group of friends looking at the two of you from the window at the pub across the street.

“Fucking finally” Sirius muttered, bumping Alice’s fist. 

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: hope you loves like it! Charlie's coming up next!

[askthestans]

Hey Stan, can you tell us stories about your brother Sherman being a total square?

Stan and Ford: At the same time. You mean Square-mie?

Both of them laugh, not in a harsh way, but the kind of lighthearted chuckles that usually come from one sibling teasing another. It's obvious they love their older brother, but... like most siblings, they'll always jump on a chance to make fun of one another.

Stan: Oh, he always hated that nickname! Look, Anon, lemme first introduce ya to the official scale of Pines fun-ness. At the top, there's me, for obvious reasons. Second best is Mabel, also for obvious reasons. And... He pauses, putting his hand to his chin. Damn, I gotta say, I think Ford's next-

Ford: I am as much of an adventurer as I am a scientist.

Stan: Yeah, definitely Ford, despite his dorkiness and obsession with... He gestures at Ford's honors and trophies for grades and intelligence related successes from childhood. That garbage. Good grades and other crap. And then-

Ford: Definitely our nephew, Dipper and Mabel's father. Works in IT, very smart, has a little bit more of Mabel's fun-loving nature. But far less adventurous than you or I. You and I could never live a boring suburban life like he does.

Stan: Grinning. Then, near the very bottom, you've got Dipper. No offense to the kid, but he's Ford's smarts but minus Ford's rebel streak. Walkin' wet blanket at times, always askin' how many laws we're breakin' while we're out havin' fun... although me and Ford are teachin' 'im to grow past it, as much as his parents will let us corrupt 'im. But he at least likes to have fun, I'll give 'im that. So that leaves us at-

Ford: Way at the very bottom of the Pines fun-ness scale, you have... Square-mie. He coughs. Shermie, sorry.

Both men howl with snorts and laughter again, barely able to explain why.

Stan: Wiping a tear from his eye, wheezing a bit. Okay, okay, Anon, picture this: take Dipper and his dad's wet blanket crap and crank it up to 1000. This guy? Our brother? Good ol' Saint Sherm? Guy's never even had a parking ticket his entire life! He won't even jaywalk! He never goes even one mile per hour above the speed limit! He's like the human equivalent of white bread. Of unflavored oatmeal. Got average grades, got a boring old suburban house with a literal white picket fence, had an average job-

Ford: Shudders. I have no idea how he worked as an IRS accountant for decades.

Stan: Ugh, don't remind me. He's always barkin' at me. "Stan, you pay your taxes yet this year?" this. "Stan, you need to contribute to your civic duty.", that. Cripes, ol' Sherm is like the anti-Pines. A Pines is supposed to laugh in the face of rules and authority. This guy huffs whatever authority's smokin' like he's part of a cult. Even when we were kids, he'd always do chores even when he wasn't asked. Kept his room clean as a whistle. Barked at me to do my homework and foiled our pranks when he could. Pure goody two shoes, so much he'd make an angel blush. I think all of our Ma's rebellion genes went to us, and Pa's strictness went to Sherm.

Ford: Yes, so after I returned and we explained to him what had happened, he...

Both men fall into a snicker fest again, unsure who will stop laughing first long enough to tell the story.

Stan: Holy mackerel, he... he... Snort. Picture Dipper at, like, seventy years old, but with an even bigger stick up his ass and even less muscles somehow. Gets told this long, convoluted as hell tale about me fakin' my death and pretendin' to be Ford for three decades, Ford gettin' lost in sci-fi sideburn land for just as long, the world almost ending with Sherm's grandkids along for the ride... just mind bendin' stuff... and the first words outta his mouth... and for reference, this guy never swears, and he never has thrown a punch at anyone... he's so square he's a cube! But he just says...

He wheezes, so Ford has to finish the story.

Ford: Snort. He raises his voice a bit, likely to mimic Shermie's. "I just knew I shoulda kicked your asses more when we were kids."

The two howl and cackle with laughter, leaning on each other for support.

Stan: And then he just... walked away, out his door, down the street to the gas station, bought beer for the - and I'm not kidding - the first time in his life, and sat back down in his old man chair and faced us as we just stood there, gobsmacked, while he cracked one open and drank it with an expression like a man betrayed. And he said-

Ford: "You two knuckleheads are lucky I'm even older than you, 'cause if I wasn't, I'd plant my loafer up your ass! You're gonna sit down, shut up, and let me drink this crap while I process whatever the f*ck I just heard and how many goddamn taxes you owe. And then maybe I'll think about huggin' your sorry asses."

More laughing.

Stan: I'm not sure if he was more mad about the taxes, or the fact that I'd faked my death all those years ago, or... the world ending part where Dipper and Mabes coulda been hurt... or maybe because we drove him to drink and swear and threaten someone for the first time in his whole goddamn life, all in the same day, he... Chuckles. He never really said. All I know is, is I don't think I've ever had my jaw that close to the floor in my life.

Ford: Honestly, I think we just kind of... broke him. Even still, I think he blew our minds more than we blew his.

Stan: He laughs a bit more, then shakes his head. Pfft, can you imagine Sherm kickin' our asses, anyway? He'd probably gently nudge one of our shins and give up. He's too nice for anything worse. That's the thing with our brother: he may be boring as sin, but... he's a good guy.

Ford: He always protected us from bullies when we were kids. Carried us home whenever we sprained an ankle or broke a bone.

Stan: And bought us ice cream whenever we asked, and fixed our bikes, and patched us up, scared the "monsters" outta our closet, and taught us most of what we know. Kind of like a second Dad, honestly, and one a lot less grumpy. A bit more somber. And he helped our parents out in their old age when we weren't around, until the... well, you know. 'Til the end.

Ford: His smile fades, then he sighs, expression a bit bittersweet. And he did actually hug us.

Stan: He scratches the back of his head, a bit embarrassed, but smiling fondly. For three hours straight.

[starkeysprincess]

rafe’s single rule for reader one day was that she wasn’t to touch herself until he got home but of course this is after he’d teased and riled her up before he left. when he does get home he goes straight to the hiding spot she keeps her vibrator she also isn’t allowed to have and can tell she used it, so he ties her up and flogs her until she admits what she did wrong that day - ❤️‍🩹

not my best imo 😣 but other thoughts i was sent under # rafe cameron prompt ꨄ︎ taglist | m.list | rafe prompt ꨄ︎ (thoughts you send) | stargazing (my thoughts)

from the moment the two of you woke up, Rafe had been teasing you all day to the point that you could feel your panties sticking to your skin from being soaked with your slick. you groaned the moment he stopped rubbing your clit through your panties, hearing the words, “i gotta head out, I’ll be back in a few hours”.

you pouted to yourself as you watched him finish getting ready, making him chuckle, "come on, baby, i'll only be gone for a few hours and when i'm back, i'll make you cum so hard, it'll wipe that cute lil pout off your face, alright?. you followed him towards the door, "only got one rule for you, babydoll" he leaned down, giving you a quick peck on your lips before pulling away, "you're not allowed to touch yourself while i'm gone, understood?".

when you didn't give him a response, his hand moved to the back of your neck, grabbing a handful of your hair and tugging your head back to look at him, "do you understand? you gonna be a good girl f'me while i'm gone?". you nodded in response, earning a smile from him, "atta girl, i'll be back as soon as i can" and with that, he left his apartment.

it's been at least two hours since Rafe left you a dripping mess as the ache between your legs growing stronger with every second that passed. you tried to ignore it as best as you could but had enough when your pussy was throbbing, in desperate need of release.

you weren't thinking straight when you started digging around his room until you found the vibrator you had hidden. you plopped down on his bed, turning it on, pressing it against your aching clit as your hand moved to squeeze and pinch your hardened nipple. all you could think about was your need for relief, you didn't have a care in the world for his rule, how would he know?

what you didn't know was that Rafe had a hidden camera in his room and he was currently sitting at his desk in his office, watching the live recording of you touching yourself from his phone. he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he watched you come undone from your vibrator, to which you immediately felt relieved now that the throbbing between your legs was satiated. you don’t even realize what you’re in for as he watched the camera to see you putting the vibrator back in its hiding spot.

the second he arrives home, he questions you, “were you being a good girl and didn't touch yourself?”. all you could do was nod, not trusting your own voice, in hopes that he’ll believe you. Rafe unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it off of his body as his hands moved toward his belt, "you wouldn't lie to me, would you, bunny?". you shake your head, his gaze burning into you as he swiftly unbuckles his belt, removing it from the belt loops of his trousers.

your eyes widen when you're pushed flat onto your stomach on the bed, he reaches for your wrists, pulling them behind your back before looping his belt around them. "i'm giving you one more chance to be honest, princess" he warns, "i was being a good girl" you mumbled, clearly lying through your teeth. Rafe leans down, his chest pressed against your back, you can feel his warm breath against your ear, "then why don't i believe you, hm?" he tsks, tightening the belt around your wrists causing you to take a sharp intake of breath while his hands are yanking down your shorts along with your panties. he leans back, his large hands gripping your hips, pulling them up till your ass was in the air.

you can hear him walking away, fumbling through his things before he's behind you again. "last chance, bunny" he spoke with a gruff voice and a shiver ran down your spine when you feel cool leather teasingly running across your ass. his grip on the flogger tightened when you didn't say anything. you figured if you were quiet, he would believe you but you were so wrong when you let out a yelp as the flogger came down against your ass. "gettin' all quiet on me now?" he teases, "not sayin' anything is making it worse".

the more silent and in denial you were, he would bring down the flogger against your ass cheeks harder and harder. cries leave your mouth with each smack as the plump flesh of your ass stung. "R-Rafe" you choked out a cry, "you know what i wanna hear, bunny. tell me and i'll stop".

"you could deny it all you want but just know i watched with my own eyes from the comfort of my office" he confesses, to which, you gasp at his words because, of course, he would somehow know. tears pool in your eyes as he delivered another harsh smack to your ass, the tails of the flogger causing red marks and wilts to litter across your ass. he groans at the sight of your ass all red, "your decision, bunny. you can admit to it and i'll stop and give you what you've been desperately wanting all day or i can keep punishing you if you keep denying it".

your vision became blurry as the tears that pooled in your eyes were now streaming down your face. "o-okay, i broke your rule" you sobbed out as the flesh of your ass was throbbing and you weren't sure how much more you could physically take. "and what rule was that?" Rafe questioned, knowing what his rule was but he wanted to hear it from you, "to not touch myself while you were gone" you whimpered.

"good girl", he tosses the flogger, his hands moving to rub and soothe the hot flesh of your ass. he leans forward, pressing a kiss to your cheek while his hands move to remove the belt that was around your wrists. you feel him wrap his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you up against him till your back was pressed against his muscular chest.

he trails one of his hands across your stomach, moving down until his hand is buried between your legs. his fingers prodding against your folds before pushing into your sopping cunt, his thumb quickly rubbing circles against your clit, "see? that wasn't so hard, was it, bunny?" he whispered in your ear.

tagging: @oceandriveab / @babygorewhore / @lilacheavenn / @drudyslut / @rafesthroatbaby / @espressomunson / @ihe4rttwd / @xxbimbobunnyxx / @sturnioloshacker / @native2princess / @rafescurtainbangz / @starkeyisthelastname / @rafecameroninterlude / @rafeinterlude / @nemesyaaa / @hallecarey1 / @heartsforvin / @redhead1180 / @eddieslut69 / @eternalbuckley / @kisses4angel / @hyperfixationgirl / @emilysuperswag / @flvredcas / @starkeysheart / @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles / @fae-of-prey / @amandabbbbb / @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account / @spid6y / @peterpan-neverfails / @zyafics

[chimielie]

cw f!reader , mild fraternal violence , atsumu’s terrible lying skills

“I know something you don’t know,” Osamu singsongs, standing in the doorway of their shared bathroom and peering over his brother’s shoulder at his reflection in the mirror.

“Yeah?” Atsumu grunts, yanking a comb through his hair and glaring back at his twin. “Spit it out, shitty ‘Samu. I got places to be, you know?”

“Ouch, don’t shoot the messenger,” Osamu drawls, leaning against the doorframe. “I know that you have a date tonight and you think you’re being sneaky about it.”

“Do not,” Atsumu scowls immediately, dropping the comb and turning around, because he is the worst liar ever. “I don’t even—what are you—I’m taking myself on a date, how about that, it’s called self care, ever heard of it? Huh? Okay? Huh?”

“Okay,” Osamu says, “You’re wearing a tie.”

“I can wear a tie if I want to,” Atsumu sneers, fiddling with it.

“Last summer, at Uncle Jun’s wedding, Ma had to literally threaten to shave your head to get you to wear one.”

“I’m a man now,” Atsumu sticks his chin up, examining his jaw. “I can wear a tie. Hey, did I miss anything while I was shaving?”

“You don’t have any facial hair to shave. And you have a hickey right there.”

“What? Seriously? Where?” Atsumu panics, turning back and forth.

“Ha, I got you—hey!!! Don’t hit me, asshole! I’ll tell Ma!!! And you—you left your fucking bouquet out on my desk, by the way. I told you to stop putting your stuff—no I swear I’ll kill you get offa me get off!—on my desk just because yours is too messy!”

“It was there for five seconds! You left all your laundry on my bed the other day—“

“Where was I s’posed to put it, the floor?”

“Your closet!” Atsumu roars. “Oh, shit, what time is it?” He drops his brother’s shirt collar abruptly.

“5:30,” Osamu says, dusting himself off. “What time you gotta be there?”

“She’s walkin’ over here now, probably,” Atsumu says, rushing back to the bathroom. “Fuck, well since you know, can I use your cologne?”

“It’s the same one you have?”

“It’s better, I don’t know,” Atsumu argues. “Just gimme it, it’s like one spritz.”

“Fine,” Osamu grumbles. “Hey, ‘Tsumu, I know something else you don’t know.”

“What,” Atsumu rolls his eyes as he walks around, frantically shoving his keys and wallet into his pockets, picking up the bouquet—delicate red and white flowers, not bad, scrub, thinks Osamu.

“This ain’t your first date,” he says smugly.

“What are you, Sherlock Holmes?” His brother says. “How d’you figure that?”

Osamu mock-stretches before counting off on his fingers. “One, you never walk home with me and Suna anymore. Two, there’s some flowery shit that appeared in our shower, and I know I didn’t buy it, and you’re not walkin’ around smelling like lavender and honey, so you’ve gotta be sneakin’ someone in. Three, you came to practice two weeks ago with an actual hickey, y’know, when you kept missing sets ‘cause you were in such a good mood.”

Atsumu blinks at him, finally lost for words.

“And,” Osamu says, tone somewhat gentler. “You seem a lot happier lately. Less, y’know, hard on yourself. Whoever it is, I think she’s good for you.”

“Thanks,” Atsumu says, swallowing roughly. “You’re so sappy.”

“Says the guy holding the flowers.” And trying not to let his eyes water over, but Osamu doesn’t say that bit. He can spare some of his brother’s dignity.

“It’s our six-month anniversary,” Atsumu says quietly. “Please don’t tell Ma yet, okay? She’s always on about volleyball bein’ enough of a distraction from school, I know she thinks dating is too. I just wanna—I want her to like my—”

He says your name just as the doorbell rings.

“Her? You’re dating—?” Osamu’s tone is incredulous. “Hold on, you can’t go yet. She’s like a million times out of your league—”

“I know!” Atsumu beams at him. “Keep your mouth shut or you’ll regret it. Tell Ma I’m sleeping at the dorms with Suna. Bye!”