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endlessthxxghts · 6 months

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Animals

DBF!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈2.5k

Summary: Joel randomly calls you and tells you to meet him outside. Your parents are home though, and you can't necessarily tell them that Joel, your father's best friend, is asking you to go with him somewhere. Do you give a little white lie and leave, or do you wait until it's safer?

Warnings: Age gap (unspecified, but legal). Reader still lives with parents but she is an adult. Nosy and controlling ass parents to their child who's a grown ass adult. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Inappropriate car activities while driving. Handjob. Blowjob. Pulling into a parking lot in broad daylight to do some stuff... P in V unprotected. ✨Save a horse, ride a cowboy (in a parking lot)✨ Reader has bit of a size kink. Cum swallowing... Is there a term for kissing with semen in both y'all's mouths??? (Don't look at me...). Possessive kink. Spanking (just once though). Getting caught... Exhibitionism...😵‍💫 I think that’s as much as I can say without spoiling anything, so! After you read it, let me know if there’s anything that I should put in here that I missed out on!

A/N: One of my all-time favorite songs is Animals by Nickelback. As of lately, though, with all my Joel brain rot, I can't NOT think DBF!Joel every time I play it... so... here we are... I recommend listening before or when you read, just to really add to the experience hehehe.😈 @javierpena-inatacvest I hope you’re hungry!😋 Enjoy, y’all!!!

MASTERLIST

You’re beside me on the seat,

Got your hand between my knees,

And you control how fast we go by just how hard you wanna squeeze.

“Two minutes, get your ass outside.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. You blindly brought your phone up to your ear with your parents in the room with you, not taking the time to check the caller ID.

“I-” you start as you head to the bathroom, not wanting your parents to overhear anything. “I can’t just leave right now, and especially not with you.” He scoffs over the phone. “I was at the dining table with my parents, jackass.”

“But you’re not anymore, right?”

“No.”

“And they didn’t question you?”

“Didn’t give them the chance to.”

“Just get out here. I’ll drive off quick, no one will see,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Joel,” you say, your tone betraying your logical responses.

“Now,” he says before ending the call.

Your heart racing, you peer at yourself in the mirror, making sure you look semi-presentable even though you know Joel’s intentions are going to ruin your appearance anyway. You leave the bathroom, heading for the front door as fast as possible.

“Who called ya?” your dad asked.

“Going somewhere?” your mother followed.

“Just a friend. And I’m gonna step out real quick, I’ll be back in a bit,” you say nonchalantly, not trying to raise any suspicion. Your mother raises her brow at you.

“I really hope you both find the value in respecting people’s privacy,” you say, stepping out the front door as you speak, erasing the chances of any further commentary. That may have come across more harsh than you would have liked, but even into adulthood, the three of you have gotten into huge fights for your whereabouts. It’s not like you left them in the dark all the time or kept them up late waiting for you to get home. You were living under their roof, so you still respected their time. Yet, it was never enough. And you were too wound up thinking about Joel to bite your tongue.

He parked a house away, and you’re practically running at the speed of light to get into the passenger side so he can pull away before your parents decide to make it to the window to gain any more information they can.

As soon as you get into the passenger seat, though, Joel has different plans as he immediately puts one hand around your waist and the other on the thigh closest to him. You’re barely able to shut the door before he pulls you into the middle of the bench seat of his truck, your body flushed against his. You squeak out at his quickness, his strength. He smirks at it.

He lets his hand on your thigh drag up your body and situate itself on your jaw, turning your face to his and kissing you deeply, all tongue and teeth and thickened spit due to how fucking turned on both of you are.

You pull away, breathless, “Baby, you need to drive off, now.”

“Shit, sorry,” he says, releasing his hold on you. “Stop distractin’ me,” he playfully scolds, a smile full of trouble across his face as he pulls out of the neighborhood.

You scoff at him now, perplexed at his audacity to tell you that you’re distracting him. It makes an idea pop in your head. You’ll show him a distraction.

You shift your body to face him. Your hand lands on his thigh, running up and down lightly, getting closer to his hardened bulge that’s been begging for your attention since he dialed your number.

His grip on the wheel tightens, his jaw twitching, “Darlin’,” he grits. “What are you doin’?”

“Oh, nothing,” you say as you lean in closer, licking a stripe up his neck, your mouth at his ear. “Just,” you cup his erection, “being a distraction.”

His hips push up into your hand. He is painfully hard right now, his entire neck and face a bright red from your ministrations. You unzip his jeans, pulling it and his underwear down to let his cock free. You moan at the sight.

“I’m warnin’ you, girl.”

“Want me to stop?”

Silence.

He moves his arm closest to you to sprawl along the back of the bench seat, giving you complete access to him as he attempts to drive you two to God knows where.

You scoot closer in, and let out a content giggle. You place a wet kiss at his pulse point, whispering in his ear, “Thought so, baby.”

You bring your hand up to your mouth and let your spit pool in your hand, bringing it back down to his length, spreading it all over before you wrap your fingers around him.

“Joel, baby, fuck-” you moan in his ear as you slowly begin pumping him, “look how fucking big you are in my hands,” you whine. “Can barely wrap my hand around you,” you say as you nip at his neck again.

Joel begs his eyes to stay on the road, knowing that if he were to look down right now, he’d lose every ounce of his control — on both his self restraint and his damn truck. But, God damn, the slapping sound of your hand on his spit-soaked cock as you whine and writhe at his side has him desperate. He glances down for barely a millisecond, and he can’t help the groan that leaves his throat, his head threatening to throw itself back in utter pleasure.

“Am I doing good, baby?” You ask him. “A good distraction?” You add, your lips ghosting his jaw with each syllable.

“F-fuckin H-hell, baby,” he stutters, hips softly meeting every push and pull of your hand. “G-gonna make me c-crash this f-fuckin’ car.”

With his admission, your grip gets a little tighter, pumps get a little faster, and you're giving extra attention to the head of his cock. He’s pulsing beneath you, breathing erratic, and you can’t stop the urge to lean down and take him into your mouth.

On instinct, Joel’s foot falls a little heavier on the gas, causing him to drive a little roughly over a bump on the road. His dick pushes deeper into your mouth, causing the tip to hit at the back of your throat.

The spit that forms from your gag reflex gives you an easier ability to devour him just as he likes—warm, wet, and sloppy. Your head begins to bob faster, your hand still supporting the base of him as you periodically cup him below, and he’s an absolute mess.

You pull away for one moment in a choked breath, your hand now jacking him off, and you look up at him through your eyelashes.

“I know you’re close, baby, I feel it,” you gasp out as your hand squeezes a little more, at the pressure you know makes him break. “Need you to cum, baby, need you to fill my fucking throat,” and with that, your mouth is back on him.

“Oh, f-fu-…” Joel nearly growls out, immediately pulling into some random parking lot, thankful the nearest slot was empty. The second the car is in park, he’s shooting his load down your throat, his hand flying to the back of your head to keep you stuffed full of him.

The way that you’re so turned on right now just by giving him the sloppiest head he has ever experienced has you absolutely dripping—an absolute moaning mess, vibrating him into overstimulation. He pulls you off, and you can’t help the blissed out smirk that forms on your face as you swallow almost everything he gave you, residue dripping down your chin.

He brings your face to his, and his tongue collects up his own spend, feeding it back to you in a desperate, sloppy kiss—if you can even call it that.

As your lips tangle in a nasty embrace, he’s quick to rip your bottoms off as he settles you on his lap. The feel on your pussy of his spent cock slowly getting erect again has you moaning into his mouth, your hips grinding down onto him, arousal coating him, urging him back to his full, hard length.

“Sh-shit,” falls from your mouth as his trails further down, leaving kisses down your throat. Joel brings his hand down to pump himself a few more times, ensuring he’s at full attention. Your hips lift up on instinct, Joel notching his tip at your soaking entrance.

You lower yourself onto him, going in with ease with how wet both you and him are, the stretch of him still providing that delicious burn. No matter how prepared or lubed up either of you are, that burn will never go away. You never want it to. It flips a certain switch of lust within you—an animalistic need—knowing just how fucking big he is, knowing that it’s all for you.

Usually when you’re on top, he’s extra sensitive, and you wait for him to give the signal for you to move. That need is there, though, and you can’t wait. As soon as your hips are flushed with his, you’re immediately lifting back up and dropping down on him again, maintaining a brutal pace that has you both uttering incoherent filth.

You place your hands on either side of his head, gripping the back of his seat to give you better momentum as you bounce on him. His hands are gripping at the globes of your ass, guiding your movements, fingertip-shaped bruises threatening to form. “Fuck, sweet girl,” he lets out, “just like that, baby.” His face is nuzzled in between your breasts, nipping and licking at them with every bounce of your thrusts.

His words cause your pussy to flutter, a possessive feeling gliding down your spine. Your one hand releases the chair and grasps at the curls on the base of his neck. “T-tell me,” you stutter, “t-tell me who my p-pussy belongs to,” you get out, licking into his mouth before you let him answer.

His hips begin to meet your movements, his pubic bone providing the cherry on top to unravel you. His lips are against yours, breaths intertwining into the thick air, windows beginning to fog. “Mine,” Joel growls. Your hips speed up, the truck shaking and squeaking with every movement. “This pussy is mine. You,” he breathes, “are fuckin’ mine,” a stinging pain fills your senses before your brain registers the slap to your ass.

Your thighs begin to shake and your body goes rigid, your climax teetering against the edge.

“Joel,” you cry out.

“I’ve got you, pretty girl, let go for me,” he coos. And just as he’s about to hold you down to fuck up into you, a car parks right next to you, door immediately slamming as the person gets out and urgently peers into the driver’s side window.

Both of you are too close to stop your movements, the person’s face outside the car falling into pure horror and shock at what’s going on inside.

“Oh!” you scream out, both of you using all your strength to stop but unable to.

“That’s my dad outside the car!”

Oh please, the keys, they’re not in the ignition,

Must have wound up on the floor while we were switching our positions.

Before you know it, you’re pulsing around his cock as he fills up another one of your holes with thick, hot ropes of his cum.

Neither of you realize just when your father scrambled back into his car and drove away, but the idea of getting caught turned both of you on more than you’d ever admit.

You don’t get off of him just yet, both of you sitting in each other’s sweaty embrace as you let your breathing and heart rates return to normal.

“So…” he says, rubbing circles on the small of your back.

You look up at him, chin perched on his chest. “So,” you giggle.

“What the fuck do we do?” he asks, wordlessly referring to the mishap with your father.

Not as worried, you mess with him before giving a serious answer. “Mmm,” you say as you place a light kiss to his chest, “I was thinking you give me your boxers since you ripped the only bottoms I have on me, and you deal with the jeans chafing your balls until you get back home.”

His eyes go wide, completely forgetting that he did that, and silently cursing himself for doing something so stupid. Luckily he decided to actually wear underwear today.

“Oh, fuck, baby, I’m so sorry, I just-” he pauses for a moment. “You fuckin’ distracted me!” he says before he completely busts out in laughter, a deep howl filling the car. You smack his chest, your laughter following suit.

“You motherfucker,” you say, sitting up a little straighter, pulling him in for a chaste kiss.

He smiles at you, pure warmth and adoration in his eyes. He clears his throat, his face a little more serious. “I, uh, I was actually talkin’ about your old man, though.”

“I know,” you say, completely unbothered.

“Are you not worried?”

You shrug your shoulders. “No.”

“You don’t think he’s gonna try and wring my neck out?”

“Baby,” you laugh, “no, he’s not gonna wring your neck out. I wouldn’t let him, anyway.”

“Oh, gee. Thanks,” he deadpans.

“I promise you, I’ve got it taken care of.”

His fingers grasp your chin, pulling you in for another kiss, a little longer than the last. “I trust you.”

As soon as you enter the front door, you see both your parents at the dining table again. Though, this time around, instead of controlling and angry, they look pale and embarrassed.

You stroll to the dining table, not caring to sit down, and you get straight to the point. They can’t even look you in the eye.

“So? Did we learn our lesson about-”

“Yes,” your parents say in unison, “please just,” your mother continues as your dad starts to retreat anywhere else but here. “Let’s not talk about it.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles in your chest.

“You’re a grown woman,” your mother says, rigidly. “It’s really not our business what you do anymore.” You peer at your father. He throws a thumbs up at your mother’s words, eyes still trained on everything else but you.

“Glad ya guys came to your senses,” you say, offering a smug smile. You can’t help it. If catching you having the steamiest sex in an older man’s car is what causes them to stop breathing down your neck, then so be it. You’d have intentionally done something like this ages ago if that’s what it took.

You start heading to your room when your dad finally speaks. Still unable to look you in the eyes. “Tell Joel I don’t give a fuck what he does—what y’all do—just,” he pauses to take a breath. “Tell him not to address any of this with me. Ever.”

“Deal.”

No, no matter where we go,

‘Cause everybody knows,

We’re just a couple animals.

End Note: Well. That killed me. The amount of laps I took writing this...�� Thank you all so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, etc, — all your support means the absolute world to me. I wouldn’t be able to do this without all of you. Thank you so so so much. There are genuinely not enough words to express my gratitude. As always feedback for my stories (at a technical sense) is also super super helpful whether it is constructive or positive! Anything helps me to be the best writer that I can be. All my love! Xo

Tags: @javierpena-inatacvest @katiexpunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @akah565 @pedrostories

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

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lostdreamr-blog1 · 6 months

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Pinky Promise

Pinky Promise 2

Part 3

Summary: Jake gets a call in the middle of the night asking for a ride home. But it’s who is asking that makes him worried.

Word count: 2k

A/N: Another request knocked out! Currently working on part 2 of Beautiful Stranger and might have plans for continuing this one depending on if you all like it. Thank you so much for reading! -C

You were a little on the tipsy side as you squinted at your phone trying to make out the numbers on it. With them moving as much as they were, it was near impossible to type in a correct phone number. Instead, you opened your contacts and scrolled down to your brother’s name.

The smart thing to do would be to call him for a ride, but the more drunk side of you could only think about the nagging you would get on the way home and probably the month following. So, you scrolled up and down your contacts deciding on who would be the lucky winner to receive a call at 1 in the morning.

Jake groaned as he heard his phone going off. He blindly reached for it and squinted at the bright screen, trying to decipher who the hell would be calling at this hour. He had to be up in a few hours to get ready for another day of trying to get through the near impossible assignment, so unless it was an emergency, he was ignoring it.

The number that flashed on his screen wasn’t one he had seen before. He almost wrote it off as a wrong number or another spam call, but something told him to answer it. The area code was one he knew and a call this late on a Saturday might mean something is going on. So, instead of rolling over and enjoying the few hours of sleep he had left, he answered the mystery number.

“Seresin.”

“Oh shit! That’s the Jake that’s in this phone? Why would he put that number in here?” The voice was female and sounded somewhat familiar but was clearly drunk.

“Sorry to disappoint. Who is this?” Jake was kicking himself for answering it now, having the person insult him within two seconds of talking.

“Ah. Look, you have to promise not to tell my brother anything. Like pinkly swear and everything.” Jake was too tired to entertain childish requests, but the first part of the statement finally sunk in. The only one on the team who had a sister near base was Bradley. Fuck.

“Y/N? Is that you?” He needed the confirmation before freaking out. What did she do that warranted keeping her brother in the dark?

“I am not answering that question until you promise me.” He sat up in bed, turning on the lamp next to him. There was no way this wasn’t her.

“Alright. I promise I won’t tell him right now. Can you tell me what’s going on?” He was hoping she was too drunk to catch how he promised.

“Fine. I’m at this bar with my friend and I played wingman a little too well and she left with this guy. I mean good for her. She just got over this really bad breakup and needed to get laid.” Jake had gotten out of bed and put the phone on speaker as he got dressed. Something told him he was going to have to pick you up from somewhere. That’s if you managed to stop getting sidetracked.

“Anyway, I have this thing about not liking to get in Ubers by myself and it’s a long ass walk back to my apartment.” Jake had grabbed his keys at this point and was walking out the door.

“Where are you? I’m on my way.” He turned on his truck and waited for a response.

“Shoot. Well, we started at one place and now this is place three. No place four. You know what, let me ask because I have no idea.” Jake sighed and shook his head. He had heard stories from Bradley about his younger sister and how reckless you were. Or at least that’s the way he described you. He always kept you on a tight leash, trying his hardest to keep you out of trouble.

But Jake thought you just wanted to have some fun. One of his sisters went through a phase like this and it was best to keep a close eye on them but never push them. For reasons like this.

You told him the name of the bar and he was on his way. “I’ll be there in about 15 minutes. Are you okay to wait inside for me?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I need to finish this water anyway.” Jake told you to call if something came up but he shouldn’t be long.

It wasn’t but 5 minutes later his phone started ringing again. He saved your number as Baby Bradshaw, knowing that this probably wouldn’t be the last time you called him.

“Yes ma’am?”

“Are you close?” As casual as you tried to sound, Jake could hear a slight bit of urgency.

“Five minutes away. Everything alright?” The hesitation that followed his question told him everything he needed to know. But he waited for your response before he pushed the issue further.

“Umm, it’s probably nothing. Just this guy by the bar keeps giving me this look and it’s making me feel a bit uncomfortable. But I’m also drunk and a tiny bit paranoid.” Jake pushed the accelerator down a bit further, breaking a few laws in order to get to you faster. He wasn't going to be blamed for getting the youngest Bradshaw in trouble.

“I’ve always been told to listen to your gut.” He heard the hum on the other end of the line as he blew through a red light.

“My gut is telling me they want tacos.” Jake couldn’t stop the laugh that came out.

“We can get you tacos on the way home, sweetheart. Now do me a favor and stand where a lot of people can see you. People like security or a bouncer. Can you do that for me?” He heard you hum again.

“Slight problem. He is following me now.” Jake’s heart started to beat faster and knew he needed to get there now.

“Shit. What did Bradley say. Thumb out, use your knuckles.” He shook his head trying to figure out what the hell you were saying. But it clicked a second too late.

“No don’t-“ He heard commotion on the other line and parked his truck right outside the bar. Flying out the door, he nearly ran into you as you were standing by the entrance with a bouncer blocking a guy with blood running from his nose from getting close to you.

Jake grabbed you before you could get around the bouncer and pulled you outside. “I told you to stay the hell away from me, you creep!” You were yelling at the guy all the way outside, letting him know you weren’t to be messed with. He wanted to go back in there and show the guy what happens when you mess with innocent people, but he knew leaving your side wouldn’t be for the best.

When the two of you were next to his truck, Jake let go and looked you over. Your face had a red tint to it from what he assumed had just happened, but besides that you looked to be in one piece. That was until he saw your eyes start to water.

He put a hand under your chin and lifted your head up. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

You sniffed a few times and wiped the tear that managed to escape. “Bradley didn’t say how much it hurts to hit someone.”

Jake bit back a smile and looked down at your hand. While it was a bit red and would surely bruise tomorrow, it didn’t look too bad.

“He probably didn’t think you would ever have to do that. Why don’t we get you back home and you can tell me what happened.” He watched you nod your head and opened his passenger door for you, closing it when you were in.

He waited a few minutes after you were on the road before asking questions. “Want to tell me why you called me instead of your brother?”

You shook your head at the question. “Have you met my brother? It would be nonstop nagging for God knows how long. Anyone else seemed like the better option.” You paused as you remembered exactly who you were with.

“I will say I didn’t expect him to put your name in my phone. He seems to have a strong dislike for you.” Jake smirked at what you had said and shrugged his shoulders.

“He probably knew I had sisters and would do anything to make sure they were alright. Regardless on who they were related to.” You thought this over and nodded your head. It wasn’t long until the next question came.

“What happened at the bar?” You felt his eyes on you and knew he was more concerned than curious.

“The guy I told you was giving me weird looks ended up following me to the door. He stopped me and tried to grab my hand and even though I pulled it away, he kept coming at me. I don’t know, I guess I just felt like I needed to do something to stop him.” You missed the way Jake’s hands tightened on the steering wheel or the clench in his jaw.

“He was lucky I was 30 seconds behind, or he would’ve gotten more than a broken nose.” You looked over and saw how serious he was. A look your brother wore all too often.

“How long until you tell bird boy what happened?” Jakes eyes caught yours and you saw the conflict in them.

“If I was him, I would want to know something happened to my sister. But I will at least drop you off before I call him. Keep your phone on silent and say you fell asleep. That way you can push it off until he gets off tomorrow.” He heard your sigh but that was the end of that.

It was silent in the car until he heard you say, “I’m not as stupid as my brother makes me out to be.” Stupid was never a word he would have used to describe you. A little carefree maybe, but you knew what you were doing.

“I see someone who wants to have a little fun in their life while they can. Nothing wrong with that.” He glanced over to you to see you playing with your injured hand.

“You’re not as bad as they make you out to be either. Besides my brother, not many people would come and get me when they have to be up soon.” Jake held back a wince when he saw the time. A coffee run in the morning would be needed. Maybe he could talk Natasha into picking him up some from that place she always went to.

He pulled into your apartment complex and parked as close to your building as he could.

“Hey, sweetheart. You can call me anytime you need help, okay? I know your brother and I are not on great terms, but I know he would help me out when family is involved.” You gave him a small smile and thanked him for the ride.

He waited until you closed the door before he backed out of the parking lot, trying to figure out what he was going to say to Bradley. It was nearing 2am and calling him was oit of the question. So, he sent a simple text.

Hey man. Your sister called a random number in her contacts tonight and didn’t realize it was me. She needed a safe ride home and that exactly what I did. We can talk about it more at base, but wanted to let you know she is safe. -Hangman

He went to put his phone down when a text popped up. He prayed Bradley wasn’t awake, wanting to push the rest of that conversation off. But instead, it was baby Bradshaw with the text You never got me tacos.

Jake laughed out loud replying that he owes you some in the near future. With a spitfire attitude that you had, Jake saw the two of you becoming good friends. That’s if Bradley didn’t lock you up after tonight’s events.

A/N: Not too sure how I felt about this one but thinking about doing a Jake and Y/N friend series. Thoughts? Likes or dislikes? Thank you for reading!

Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticcassidy

#hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #topgun maverick #top gun maverick #chelsea writes #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader

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kakujis · 4 months

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ALL I WANTED WAS YOU.

and when the world treats you way too fairly... well, it's a shame i'm a dream.

synopsis: a break up is nothing, not when the two of you are sworn to be together. satoru thinks you just need a little reminder.

warnings: dark content. ageless blogs + minors DNI. afab!fem reader, sub!reader, yandere!satoru, switching povs at times, possessive behavior, dubcon, recording, dacryphilia, cheating (not on gojo), somno, praise, manipulation, gaslighting, mind break(?), begging, fingering, oral f!receiving, choking, pussy slapping, creampie, masochism (reader), tiny bit of man handling and hair pulling. he is mean AND whiny. he literally sniffs u at one point lol. you wear makeup. implied multiple rounds.

ft + wc: gojo x reader, around 5.2k

@enchantedforest-network

an: hi, so like months ago (as all my wips start) i had this idea for toxic!ex bf gojo which delved into yan gojo LOL. he is so hard to write... like wtf... so anyway this was been rotting away since september!! i think i did lose my mind just a little bit writing this ngl LMFAO. idk if i really leaned that heavily into the yan, but we are going to truck along and post this anyways. thanks for waitin'. also, thank you to dooby and sky for both proofreading and giving me some ideas to push through, @sxgars for the banner, and my brain/fingers for not giving up.

gojo satoru still remembers the day you left, eyes puffy and face streaked with makeup as you stormed out of your shared apartment. in gojo’s mind, it was fine, you’d be back. no matter how big of a fight, you always came back.

but it’s been months now of you ignoring his calls and texts, avoiding him whenever you see him. you’ve even blocked him on some of your social media platforms since he can only access the ones you haven’t used in years. most people have told him to let it go, move on, it’s not worth it. but satoru’s heart knows what it wants and at the core of it all, it wants: you.

he thinks you might need a little coaxing, something to help you realize you love him again. once he finds out your address, his plan is set. he spruces himself up, spritzing on the cologne of his that was your favorite, even getting suguru to stop by the flower shop near his workplace to grab you a bouquet. yes, gojo’s got it all figured out. he’ll swing by, shower you in love like he used to, and you’ll realize you missed him just as bad.

imagine his dismay when you won’t even open the door, your voice muffled from the other side. you tell him to leave, it’s over, you don’t want to see him anymore. he begs you to open it, just give him one more chance, but you sigh, crack the door open a smidge, and tell him.

“satoru, leave. my boyfriend’s here.”

he thinks that word is disgusting if he’s not the one it’s referring to. maybe you’re lying, maybe it’s another ruse to get him to piss off, but when you peek behind your shoulder, giving a little smile, the kind you used to give gojo, soft, sweet, loving; he realizes you’re completely honest.

the lump in his throat is sticky, clinging onto the walls of his neck like gum. meanwhile, his heart feels like it’s beating in his ears, a not-so-friendly reminder of his fragility.

you turn back, eyeing the flowers, an assortment of your favorite kinds - satoru, satoru, i like these, see? - and in a moment of soft-heartedness, step out. you can’t deny the pull of your heartstrings, satoru’s endearing aura plucking at them in a solemn tune, but you’re different now. you don’t need satoru anymore.

“look,” you start, adjusting his tie and fixing the crinkling cellophane. “maybe you could give this to someone else? they’re so pretty, someone out there would be lucky to have them. and, you’re satoru, handsome, funny, sweet. you’ll find someone else in no time!”

but he just stares, eyes boring into you as if it feels like the wind’s been taken out of him as your words fall on deafened ears. fuck the flowers, you’re so pretty, you’re the one people are lucky to have. in a sense, he’s bewildered because there’s no way you’ve actually moved on… right?

you sigh again, a hint of exasperation tinging your voice, “gojo, i think… this should be the last time we see each other.” you step back, hand on the door handle. to you, this is a step in the right direction.

for him, he finds that the way you don’t use his first name has him wanting to rip his hair out from the root.

“wait, please, i love you.” he states, finally finding his voice, feeling like his time with you is running out. his lip quivers while his heart continues to shatter with each passing second. “i’d do anything for you, you know that right?”

ah. same old satoru, the man who swore he’d take the moon from the sky if you wanted. anyone looking in would swear you were lucky, but you remember things being a little… suffocating. it was too much, too overwhelming eventually.

you bite your lip, strengthening your hold on the handle, ready to leave. you can’t meet his gaze, knowing that if you do you might falter. “but i don’t. i don’t love you anymore.” - it’s a lie, you know it is from the little bud inside your chest blooming, breaking out past the walls of your heart, but you just… can’t.

he shakes his head, taking a step forward. “you don’t mean that.”

“i do, satoru!” you flinch at your own voice, taking a deep breath to calm down. “please, just leave.” you tell him one more time before you retreat back inside and slam the door.

he waits for a few minutes, thinking that maybe he’s on one of those prank shows. you’re going to open the door, tell him it was a joke, and to come inside. except you don’t, and he’s stuck under the low flickering haze of your complex’s lights.

gojo’s a bit stunned on the walk back home, foggy eyesight mixed with thoughts flying a mile a minute equates to a tall stumbling man with no care for those around him. he can’t even count how many people he’s bumped into, let alone the amount of sorrys he’s muttered, the now crumpled bouquet still firmly held in his hand, indicated by the whites of his knuckles.

when he gets home, he sinks into the floor, his head wrapped around his arms before he flings the bouquet across the room. “fuck!” a picture frame of the two of you clatters to the floor, glass breaking in tiny, jagged pieces. he kept it after all, in hopes that you’d come back eventually, but now it’s clear you’re not. he doesn’t even care that he’s knocked something off a table, he’s so fucking hurt.

hurt that you’ve moved on so easily, hurt that you’re out there calling someone else ‘baby’. he can’t fucking stand it, wanting to rip out the baseboards of his home or set it all on fire. from the first day he met you, gojo’s always firmly believed you were made for him. that thought was always reaffirmed with every ‘i love you,’ that dripped from your lips into his ear every morning and evening.

maybe it’s not the best timing, but he remembers other things as well. like each time he’s been deep inside you and your pretty mouth would hang open, eyes blown and glassy, as you gasped out his name like it was the only thing you knew how to say. or even the times you took initiative yourself, crawling under the covers to wake him up, kitten licks and sloppy kisses to his cockhead. his own eyes met yours, with a lidded call of reverence, and that was all he needed to know.

there’s no reason to wallow, he thinks, a small reignition of flame in his gut brewing. each passing memory that trickles by is another reminder that you did love him. no, that’s not right. you do love him.

okay, he thinks, i can still fix this. you just need a little reminding is all. you love him and you’re just a little confused. maybe his mind is breaking, but he reminds himself that it’s better his mind than his heart.

”yeah,” he mumbles, dusting himself as he gets up off the floor. “she still loves me.”

to be honest, breaking and entering wasn’t really his thing, he never saw the appeal in it before. but, this isn't really a break in, he’s just visiting his girl. he will say though, you did make it a little too easy by keeping your key under the mat. no, you kept it easy because you knew he was coming, simple as that.

he goes in tentatively at first, wanting to see what you’ve done with the place, nodding in approval as he scans over the rooms. you’ve done a good job, just like you did before, but he does frown when not a single one of his photos is up. you must have forgotten or maybe you’re trying to save your new boy toy some heartbreak. silently, he walks over to your bedroom door, peeking in.

his mouth quips up into a smile when he sees you. you’re pretty as you sleep, just like he remembers. you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, mouth slightly agape as your drool dribbled down into the pillow.

“hey beautiful…” he murmurs when he reaches you, bending down to brush away a few strands of loose hair from your face.

a little “mm,” leaves your lips as your face twists at his touch. he leans in til he’s just a hair’s breadth away, before he ghosts his lips over yours slightly. still the same old you, lips just as soft as he remembers and what little self restraint he had continues to chip away.

the hot breath of exhales continue to mix as satoru spends his time taking in your scent. he tries his best not to whine when you pull away slightly, once again leaning further in to stay as close to you as possible. if he could get high off of it, he probably could, but the ache in his belly grows. he needs you.

“wait a minute…” he mumbles when you try to once again turn away. “why are you always trying to run away from me?” it’s a silly question, rhetorical since you’re still locked in the deep throes of sleep. but your body seems to answer in place of your voice when your legs rub against the sheets and your chest once again heaves itself over, leaving him behind.

he’s sad that you’ve taken away his favorite aromatic, but with your shuffling, you’ve moved the blankets down letting him get a peek of your bare skin. you’re always a sight to behold and his fingers run themselves lightly over your body before he’s pulling the blanket off you completely.

you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, affectionately dubbed his “sleepy wife,” even though you were never married. it’s been a while since his hands burned with such intensity, running up and down your thigh and leg, even tracing along the curvature of your ass.

his knee dips into the bed as he finally looms over you, pushing you gently onto your back, before he’s prying your thighs open with one hand. he thinks he should take his time, savor it, satoru, but you’re just so… inviting. he runs a finger across the waistband of your shorts, experimentally tugging lightly. he flickers his eyes between his hands and your face, seeking for any signs of waking as he slowly starts to expose more and more skin.

hints and glimpses of skin are all he needs to get riled up, further than he already is, as he takes the leap and pulls your bottoms off completely.

“oh fuck princess,” he groans when he sees your pretty pussy for the first time in months. he’s nearly salivating like a dog as he remembers just how good you taste, bending down to get perched between your thighs.

the first kitten lick against your clit chips away at his already waning self control. the next one that delved between your folds nearly completely breaks it. but he’s missed tasting you on his buds, missed consuming what was his. take your time, satoru. his mind ticks again, and he settles back to prepare a nice lob of spit before he’s letting it fall onto your pussy.

you shiver unconsciously at the sensation and he takes a pause, not wanting you to wake just yet. you’d probably flip out on him and he can’t have you getting mad at him just yet.

he waits until you settle again before he’s diving back in, driving his tongue between your folds as he laps up your essence. to say he was starving was an understatement, for these past months he’s felt like he’s been dying.

it’s intoxicating as your juices and his saliva mix to dribble down his chin, dripping onto your bed sheets below. he eats you out like it's his first real meal in months, tongue lapping as much of your essence as he can while his fingers dig deep into the plush skin of your thighs.

he shudders as he grinds his hips into your mattress, the tip of his nose running against your clit sending little shockwaves up your unconscious body. you taste just as good as he remembers, losing himself in the sweet slick of your cunt.

your eyelids finally flutter open, readjusting to the darkened light of your room, but you can't miss that familiar snowy peak of hair settled in between your thighs.

"satoru?" you breathe, meeting his lidded eyes as your hands come down to immediately push back against his forehead, but instead your fingers curl up into his locks.

“hi,” he chimes, smiling against your pussy as he readjusts, sitting up to shoot you a wicked smile. “hi baby, good mornin’.” the tone ofhis voice is sweet, nearly identical to what it was like when you were together.

he replaces his tongue with his fingers, whining a little when he feels you clench down onto them as he starts to scissor you open.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you hiss, but your body jerks when he rubs against a particularly sweet spot of yours.

“i missed you. i can’t visit?” he pouts, pressing a kiss against your clit before his tongue is laving over it again as if to make a point. “did you miss me?” he asks when your eyes roll back and you tug just a bit harder on his hair.

“no.” you grit, but you can’t stop the way your hips buck up into him.

“you’ve always been a bad liar, angel.” he shrugs, before he’s latching onto your cunt again.

he’s eaten you out more times than either of you can count, he knows exactly how to get you there. he knows it’s just a little bit more until you fall apart. he’s back on with even more fervor, alternating between sucking on your clit to sloppily and quickly flicking his tongue against it.

“oh fuck,” you mewl, throwing your head back and thrashing as you come undone on his fingers, pussy fluttering and toes curling.

“see, i knew you missed me.” he grins, as he brings his fingers up to suck at the slick around them. you’re still panting as you try to close your legs, but satoru’s fast, bringing his hands back down to tear them open. “ah ah ah,” he tuts, “we’re not done til i say so, got it?”

“sa- gojo, you need to leave.” you plead, head heavy and stomach churning at what’s just happened. you fucked up but it’s fine, you can fix this still.

“why?” he asks, “your boyfriend gonna come home?” fine, he’ll play your little game for now. he’ll antagonize you for a bit, before he’s disgustingly sweet again, just like the good ole days. but there’s also the anger brewing within him, why the fuck won’t you just come home?

he smirks when you pause, already knowing the answer, “don’t tell me you two aren’t living together?”

you shake your head, “that’s none of your business, gojo.” in hindsight, after satoru, you wanted to take things slowly the next time. moving in after only a month of dating probably wasn’t the best idea.

“why not? i’ve got a right to know what you’re up to.” he pouts as he says it, hoping your irritation will ease up.

you scoff, narrowing your eyes, “since when?” but your attitude is nothing more than a facade, always has been. “we’re not even together anymore-“

“since i decided, you’re mine.” he snaps, cutting you off and leaning down into you. “i decided that years ago by the way, and i’m not gonna let some fucking random mess with us.”

you squeak as you hear him rustle with his pants, freeing his aching cock and you hate the way your stomach flip flops when you see it. it’s been so long since you’ve been fucked let alone touched. gojo was the last person to have you writhing underneath him and if you told him, he’d have even more of a need to keep it that way.

your tough facade is breaking, you’re falling back into your hazy, mindless, and needy ways. you love satoru, even if the relationship was toxic, even if he gave you so little breathing room. but not yet, you won’t give in just yet.

you try to scramble back further before you’re able to twist out of his hold for just a moment. but he grabs your hair by the root, twisting and pulling you back close to him and you yelp, clawing at his hand.

“baby, you’re really testing my patience.” he hisses into your ear, before he’s shoving you back down on the bed. “god, you know i hate being mean to you. just be good for once, yeah?”

“gojo, leave.” you try one more time, but the hands that push up against him are so weak that he can tell your body’s betraying you. not only that, but your thighs shake at the pain in your scalp and you wish he would do it again.

“i don’t think you want me to.” he states and you hate that he’s right. you don’t want him to leave, you want him to slide into you, filling you up. “or am i wrong?” he asks, looming over you, running his pretty cockhead through your folds. “go ahead, tell me to stop.”

you bite your lip in an effort to not gasp out a pathetic moan, squeezing your eyes shut. each run against your clit has your legs widening, almost like you’re inviting him to come in.

“knew it,” he quips, before he’s prodding at your entrance. your eyes fly open then, breathing heavily through your nose, but you don’t try to back off letting him glide in, inch by inch. “it’s cause you love me.”

“i don’t,” you exhale as you watch his dick disappear within you, stretching you further than his fingers did. you’re nearly breathless when he finally bottoms out, fists balling into your sheets.

“yes, you do,” he breathes, his own breathing jagged and rushed, almost like it’s being squeezed out of him. “you always have and always will.”

gojo satoru always fucks with your psyche, one of the many reasons you decided to leave him. it wasn’t obvious, not at first and neither was it nefarious. it was silly little item mix ups, funny conversations that seemed to follow satoru’s lead, until it was a loss of freedom, like a nightingale in a cage.

huh? no, you’re meeting them next week… yeah, you told me last night.

but that’s not-

it is. check your phone.

oh, i guess it… is?

c’mon, would i lie to you princess? now you can hang out with me all day.

and then suddenly it was all too clear when you did get that girl’s trip out, when your friends stared at you like you were fucking insane. it wasn’t normal at all that you couldn’t do a single thing without him. your friends helped you fit the pieces together and that was enough. you were going.

leaving that day was easy, satoru hated seeing you upset and was more than willing to give you space when needed. it always went one way: you cool off, he swoops in and dresses up his words extra nicely to make you stay. but you didn’t this time.

it was easier to leave all your things there as well instead of trying to leave in the middle of night. you thought you could do it, away from him you’d figure things out.

but there must have been a part of you that still wanted him to chase after you, a divergent, rogue piece that strayed too far from the board. is that why you didn’t leave the city? still a part within satoru’s web of connected streets, just waiting until you were ensnared again.

his eyes are still as pretty, his face almost too handsome, and voice just as alluring as before. you guess that’s what this is, a predator just waiting to stick his fangs into your neck.

“you’re insane,” you gasp out, holding onto your tiniest bit of strength.

“aw, just for you.” he smiles, before he’s rolling his hips into yours, grinding in just the way you like, just as you remember.

with each stutter of his hips, your walls twitch around his length and body jolts in waves of pleasure. soft gasps and moans tumble off your lips and satoru buries his face into your neck, nipping little marks into your skin, almost as if he’s etching one word into it: mine.

it hits him almost instantly, this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach when he remembers that stupid little nuisance. he uses his hands to push up, still ramming into you as he takes a look at your face contorted in pleasure, as you peek up at him.

“gojo?” you mumble, trying to take into account that look in his eye, but your head is bubbly with the pleasure he’s giving you.

even with your walls clenching down around him with each roll of his hips, his anger seeps into him like water to a sponge as he tries to block out the idea that someone else was in what was his. that they probably saw this face that you’re making and got to hear your pretty little moans.

“where’s your fucking phone?” he hisses, snatching it off the nightstand when he finds it, illuminated by the notifications of text messages from your “boyfriend.”

you whimper, trying to grab it, but satoru holds your hands together by the wrist, strategically keeping them against your chest so you can’t move up.

“gojo, don’t!” you plead, snapping out of your trance for a moment, but the grip on your wrist tightens and you yelp. followed next is a glare, his gaze striking you right to the core. your words die off and he goes back to looking at your phone. it’s easy to unlock, you never changed the pass code.

his eyes scan the texts quickly and frankly, it’s fucking disgusting to read this guy call you pet names that only satoru can say. he continues to scroll, trying his best to not dig his nails deep into your skin as he takes note of every heart emoji, flirtatious interaction, and pet name from your end.

he keeps his breathing deep and even to keep himself from blowing his lid and he has half a mind to block his number to make sure you can’t speak to him again. but suddenly he’s got a better idea, getting back at him seemed so easy.

you look so cute underneath him, pretty pussy enveloping his cock just like it was made to do, why not show it off? especially to someone that pissed him off.

“hey baby, can you smile for me?” he says, voice sugary sweet as he opens your camera app, but you shake your head, trying to sink further into the pillow. you’re wary of the sudden personality change, especially when he finally releases your hands.

he pouts, “c’mon now, you’re so pretty when you smile… please?” he sighs when you continue to refuse, but continues on, angling the camera til he’s satisfied with the image.

“god, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” he says as he zooms onto your flushed face, hands coming up to hide it, before paneling back to record down your body. he stops when he reaches where both your hips are flush together, pussy sucking in his cock right to the brim. “fuck, would you look at that? i don’t even know your name man, but how fuckin’ pretty is this?”

you gasp when you realize what he’s doing, but before you can say anything, you feel a hand come down onto your sensitive pussy. you yelp out but his hand comes down again and you're mortified when it sounds more like a moan. “bet you didn’t know she liked that,” he goads, “she also likes this.” he says, wrapping a hand around your jugular and giving a squeeze.

your eyes roll back as the air escapes you, muddying your sight in little black dots. your hands fall to pull at his wrist, a moot effort considering the strength difference, and he laughs. a condescending flit of noise dripping in ego. “scratch that, she fucking loves that. hey, in my defense, i’m a little rusty, it’s been a while.”

gojo has always been one of two things, needy and arrogant. but the worst was always when the two came together, usually in his worst fits of jealousy. he’s never recorded you before, always too eager to remember to set anything up before he’s pouncing on you.

but this satoru feels different, he feels scarier, nearly dangerous, although you shake off that fear til it’s nothing more than a fleeting thought. you liked this - no he was right, you loved this. before you broke up you were always begging satoru, just a little harder, just a little meaner, please.

with another heavy squeeze as the oxygen is once again cut off from you, you feel the walls around your heart finally crumbling completely, almost like a switch is flipped on. you can’t run from nor deny the heady need that was gojo satoru, the man that knew you in and out. you flutter your lashes at him, like you always did when you wanted to tell him something. he loosens his grip on your neck, just enough so that you can speak, “you wanna say somethin’, baby?”

“u-use me,” you mumble, voice no louder than a whisper as your eyes start to leak that familiar pretty liquid that drives him insane. you’ve missed him, missed this - whatever the fuck it was, some messed up amalgamation dressed up under the guise of love.

“hm?” he goads, a sick smile plastered on his face because you’re finally acting how you should. “a little louder for me, princess. i can’t hear you.”

“use me!” you sob, trying to shift your hips to get some sort of stimulation, “please, satoru, please.”

the use of his first name has him feeling like an actual god as he switches the camera back onto him. “you heard her.” he says with a wicked grin, before ending the video and pressing send. he tosses your phone to the side, “now where were we?”

you whine when he shifts, one elbow propping him up as his hand once again finds it’s place against your neck. your own hand resumes it’s place as well, but instead of pulling this time you press, lashes heavy with tears as you wordlessly beg satoru to claim what’s his again.

he’s so close to you now, his snowy hair tickles your forehead and his breath mixes with yours as he finally starts to move. you choke out a sob as he ever so slowly hits all the right places and you wonder how long you actually managed to make this far.

“this is what you wanted isn’t it, baby?” he coos, being careful to not choke you for too long, even though you almost wish he’d fuck you passed out. “just needed a little reminder that i’m all you need right?”

you nod, hiccuping with each thrust that knocks any air you have left out of your lungs. he’s right, just the two of you is all either of you need. you think the world is melting away as satoru presses kisses against your spit ridden lips, his own groans mixing in with yours as your tongues mesh together in sloppy, messy runs.

“and now you’re gonna cum on my cock, aren’t you?” he picks up the pace, slamming in harder, rougher, like he’s proving a point. but he’s almost always right, with each kiss of his mushroom tip against your sweet spot pulsing pleasure throughout your body. “show me how much you love me.”

“‘m close, toru,” you sniffle, nails digging into his arm as you blink away more tears, gasping up into his mouth. “‘m so close, please.”

“i know.” he states, pressing his forehead against yours, sticky and sweat covered, as he gazes into your glassy, hazy eyes. “come on, cum for me princess. show me who you belong to.”

there’s something so euphoric about satoru’s words, claiming every last bit of you, that you fall apart almost instantly. your orgasm hits you hard, rippling through you as your eyes and head both roll back, your pussy clenching down on his thick cock.

“f-fuck! cumming, toru, i’m-“ you squeal, tears running down your face freely but satoru swallows up your moans, his lips once again sealing over yours, since those belong to him too.

that’s enough for him, a firm affirmation that you love him, and he loses control of his once precise thrusts. he pistons into you, heavy balls slapping against your skin and pounding hard as if to leave marks all up your velvet walls. you milk out his own orgasm, walls fluttering and he detaches from your lips to growl out, “you’re all fucking mine, got it?”

you chant out “yes,” as many times you can, still riding out your own orgasm as his cum paints your walls in white, til he finally slows back down to a stuttering close. he pants as he runs his hand up to rub his thumb over your tear-ridden cheek.

“i love you.” he mumbles and you blink up at him sleepily meeting his pretty lidded blue eyes. it’s a stark contrast to the satoru just moments ago, pounding into you like his life depended on it.

“love you too, toru.” you whisper, running a hand over his. your head and body feel heavy, yet your mind is still floating above the clouds. he’s probably oversensitive but you can’t care, knowing that your neck is prettier now that his fingerprints are littered on it. “toru… again.”

he laughs when he feels you start to grind your hips, sticky slick and cum dripping from your hole. he feels like he’s on cloud nine hearing you beg for him after all this time.

“please, please, toru,” you whine, craning your neck to brush sloppy, wet kisses across his lips and jawline. “i love you, so please.”

“course, angel,” he mumbles in between kisses, “just gimme a few minutes and i’ll give you everything you want.”

#gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader smut #cw yandere #cw cheating #cw dubcon #pibby writing

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celtic-crossbow · 8 days

Text

Blood Ties Chapter 28

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Pregnancy stuff - bodily fluids, etc.

A/N: Still worried about Daryl's character in this, but I guess I will probably continue to do that since this is a situation we haven't seen him in during these seasons. Anyway, game on.

Two days. Three centimeters. Nothing really new other than a few small, quick contractions that were nothing more than a tightening of your belly. Daryl stayed close, mainly venturing outside only to smoke or relieve himself, and, of course, he accompanied you when you needed to go. At that very moment, you were lying propped up on a mountain of pillows that everyone had given you. Daryl was sitting cross-legged by your feet, sharpening his knife.

“Do you think something’s wrong?” You asked, pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth. The archer looked up and studied you, looking back down at the whetstone before shaking his head. The sound of the blade sliding against it made your skin crawl. “Can you—stop that please?” He sighed but sheathed the knife and tossed the whetstone onto the top of the things in his bag. He hadn’t been speaking much which concerned you. You watched him scrub a hand over his face before keeping it there and propping his elbow on his thigh. “Daryl, what’s wrong?”

“Nothin’.” His voice was gravelly, tired even, but not unkind. You knew he had slept, or had at least been lying down with you while you did. “Ya hurtin’ or anythin’?” He still had his face covered.

“Mm-mm. Thumper’s awake though. It’s Cirque du Soleil in there.” His hand finally moved to smooth back over his hair, leaving the shorter pieces askew. “Hey.” His eyes met yours again, worry evident and overflowing. “Come over here?” His left hand clenched into a fist but then flexed open again. Daryl got to his feet, taking a single step toward you before bending down to press a kiss into your hair.

“Gonna have a smoke. Right outside if ya need anythin’.”

You watched him go and sighed, turning your attention to your stomach. “I think you’re scaring your daddy, Thumps. Me too, a little bit, if I’m being honest.” The baby hadn’t been as active over the last 24 hours, but Hershel had reassured that it was normal for movement to decrease in the last part of pregnancy. “I don’t know how good of a mom I’m gonna be. I didn’t exactly have a shining example. And your daddy—he’s gonna really need our patience, kiddo. Shit, we’re both gonna need patience.” There was the smallest ripple beneath your palm. “We’re flying blind here.”

Sounds of a scuffle on the porch had you sitting up straight in a flash, eyes wide and darting.

“Daryl?”

He staggered in the door—walker blood on his arm and his knife—before gaining his footing and bending to grab your boots. “Gotta go!” He was calling for the others while helping you get ready and grabbing up what blankets he could to stuff into the second bag. You could hear the moans and scratches and thumps just outside the wall. “C’mon, just leave the rest. We gotta move.”

You nodded, leaving the remaining blankets, pillows, and your sweatpants. It would be freezing in just your leggings but as long as you were alive, then you couldn’t really complain.

Daryl threw one of the bags on his back—along with his crossbow—while you shouldered the other bag. Knife in one hand, he took yours in the other and was pulling, the first of the herd of corpses tumbling into the house, slimy fingers grasping so closely that you felt the tug on your hood before they seemed to have lost their grip.

Everyone was sprinting out the back, Rick waiting until you and Daryl had passed to follow and pull the door closed behind him. The truck was blessedly close. Daryl was pulling the bag from your shoulder and opening the door simultaneously, letting you climb inside while he tossed both packs into the back and rounded to the drivers side. You had the key ready and in the ignition, your heart rate slowing the moment his foot hit the gas.

“Y’okay?”

Catching your breath—winded by fear and exertion and well, the extra weight of the human growing inside your belly—you looked over just in time to see him take his right hand off the wheel, flex his fingers as they moved just the slightest distance toward you, and then place it right back where it started.

“Yeah.” You answered breathlessly, swallowing and nodding. “Yeah, we’re okay.” He relaxed a little. His next question would have been about Thumper, so why not ease his mind quickly? “Are you okay? The one outside, before you—”

“M’alright. Ain’t bit or nothin’.” He mumbled, dragging his left thumb over his bottom lip before he began chewing on the skin there, thickened from all the scarred wounds he had given himself, small as they were. He was anxious. He had every right to be. You could go into labor at any moment and another temporary home had been overrun. It had been months of this shit. Run, run, run, and—for a change of pace—run again.

Hand steadying your belly, you twisted in the seat to look behind the truck for the headlights of the van. When you didn’t see them, you swiveled back to check the side mirror, finding it easier to watch in that position. There was nothing but the soft red glow of the truck’s tail lights. “I don’t see them.”

“They’ll show an’ we’ll pull off. Come up with somethin’.” His eyes slid over to you and back. “Can’t keep ya out on the road.”

You couldn’t disagree. You could feel your ankles swelling inside your boots. Your pelvis and hips ached, your lower back felt strained. Your stomach was tightening in a small contraction. You were just highly uncomfortable and more than a little tired. Your head fell back against the headrest, eyes closed. You must have dozed because when you opened your eyes, the truck was still and Daryl was gone.

“Daryl?” You quavered, grabbing the dashboard as you slid to the edge of the seat to be able to survey the surroundings. It was too dark. You could barely see inside the cab itself. “Daryl!” Just as you grabbed for the door handle, the driver’s side door opened at full tilt and the archer peered inside.

“M’right here. Y’okay?”

You exhaled sharply, not even realizing you’d been holding your breath. “What’s going on? Why’re you out there? Are the others here?”

Daryl looked over his shoulder, tapping his fingers against the top of the door before turning back toward you, looking at the seat instead of meeting your eyes. “Nah, they ain’t here. Ain’t seen no sign’a ‘em.” You could see the same worry you were feeling reflected in his posture.

“What will we do if they—” You couldn’t say it. You just couldn’t. Why did the world just insist on taking everything?

“Do whatever we gotta do.” Daryl sniffed, looking over his shoulder again. He was thinking the same thing you were. Neither of you knew the first thing about childbirth. You turned to get out of the truck, an ache in your lower back while your stomach tightened in a contraction making you wince, your fingers wrapped around the door handle. “Stay in the truck.” Your hand fell away but the pain remained. It wasn’t unbearable and after a moment, your muscles loosened. The pain in your back remained but lessened. “Y’alright?”

“Mhm.” You answered quickly. Laying back against the seat, you blew upward to move an unruly hair from your face. You were so tired but you couldn’t sleep, not while your partner was standing outside the truck alone and keeping watch. It wouldn’t even do much good to try when there was no comfortable position you could find with your back twinging. Still, you found your eyelids drooping. When the truck rocked the slightest bit, you didn’t startle. A warm hand wrapped around your shoulders and pulled, and you let yourself be guided to lie on Daryl’s thigh.

“Get some sleep.”

With a hum, you turned to face his stomach so your own could rest upon the seat. His hand settled on your ribs.

“I love you.” You mumbled, already halfway gone into slumber. The last thing you felt was his fingertips graze along your jaw.

It was daylight when you next opened your eyes, the taut skin of your stomach pulling uncomfortably tight while your back spasmed. The contractions themselves were merely annoying while the pain in your back was constant, made worse when your muscles tensed. Grimacing, you glowered at your belly. “Good morning to you, too.” You were no longer pillowed on Daryl’s thigh, actually alone in the cab. You made it up to an elbow when you heard voices. Familiar voice.

“You sure you’re alright? Y/N alright?"

“She’s sleepin’.”

You had to grab the steering wheel to haul yourself upright, opting for the passenger door. Carol was the first to see you and sprinted in your direction. You stood still and let her come to you, your ankles just too swollen and sore to move more than necessary. Once reaching you, she wrapped her arms around your shoulders with a little less enthusiasm so as not to jar you.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. When we didn’t see the truck—”

“I know. I was freaking out when I couldn’t see the van.”

She brushed your hair away from your face once she let you go. “We had to go around the herd and then figure out which direction you two went.” You smiled, but it was a weak attempt. Your back was still aching. “Are you okay?” Behind her, Daryl was watching you. You wondered if he was hearing anything Rick was saying.

You waved her off. “Yeah, I’m fine. So, what’s the plan?”

“Heading South, I guess? I’m not sure. I mean, the main thing is to find somewhere safe enough for you to have that baby. Lori won’t be far behind. A few weeks, at most.” Her eyes dropped to where your hand rested on your stomach and then back again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Go see what’s going on. I don’t really feel like walking over there. I”m just gonna wait in the truck.” After a moment, Carol acquiesced, calling over her shoulder for you to yell if you needed anything. You waved your hand over your head and let it fall to your back, pressing in on where the ache continued. Maybe it was time to tell Daryl something else was happening. Opening the door, you lifted your foot from the ground when you felt something gush from your opening, wetting your underwear and leggings. “Oh, great. And now I pissed myself. Way to go, Y/N!”

You left the door open and stepped back so you could reach into the truck bed for your bag. You’d have to change but you really really did not want to tell Daryl that had just happened. He was your partner and you were pregnant, so he’d understand but you were sure to get a ya did what now and that would just make you feel more embarrassed. Maybe you could call Carol over and she could help you out of the soiled clothes and hide them until they could be washed.

Standing on your tiptoes, you grabbed the soft handle of your bag when it happened again. Less of a gush, but a noticeable flow. That’s when reality roundhouse kicked you in the teeth.

Oh shit.

“Hey, Daryl.” You kept your tone even, unalarmed even if you were being absolutely ravaged by panic inside. You left the bag and lowered back down to be flat on your feet. Daryl’s boots were loud on the pavement but at a slow stride. Good. You hadn’t terrified him.

Yet.

“Yeah?” He noticed where you were standing and glanced into the truck bed. “Need your bag?”

“Well, yes and no.” Your abdomen tightened again, still painless, but aggravating the cramping in your back to a new level. With a hiss through your teeth, you knew you had his full attention without even looking at him.

“S’wrong?”

You were staring at your feet, expression pinched with pain and concentration while you persevered through the episode. Why the fuck did your back hurt? All too soon, Daryl’s boots were right in front of yours. “I—I think my water broke.” When you could finally think past the throb that was slowly ebbing away into the continuous ache, you raised your head to find him staring at the ground. And then your pants. “What?”

“Ain’t there supposed to be—I dunno—a lot?”

“How the hell should I know? You think I give birth on a regular basis?” You snapped, immediately murmuring an apology.

“Ya sure ya didn’t just—”

“No, I didn’t piss myself.” More fluid trickled from within you, a miniscule amount but enough to be noticed. “At least I think I didn’t? I mean, I was expecting more of a whoosh. Like Noah’s Ark level of liquid, you know?” And then you were silent. And so was he. You stared at one another, each waiting for the other to say something.

Daryl cleared his throat. “M’gonna—gonna get Hershel.” He turned but barely managed a step before he stopped, looking back over his shoulder. “Or I can stay here? Do ya need me here?”

“Just get Hershel. I’ll be fine for now. Can you get Carol too, please?” You watched him nod, noticed the tick in his clenched jaw, the way he was tapping each fingertip of his right hand against his thumb rhythmically. He was freaking out. And as you felt more liquid soaking into the fabric of your underwear and leggings, so were you. You were wet all the way down past your knees.

“Daryl said you needed me.” Carol’s voice brought your head up, your expression triggering the worry that took over her own. “What’s wrong?”

“I think—I either really had to pee or my water broke.” You shifted from foot to foot, carefully keeping your thighs apart. You had never felt so humiliated in your entire life. If your father could see you now—well, honestly he’d probably be laughing and saying take it easy, peanut, it’s just some wet pants.

“It’s okay.” Carol soothed, encircling her arms around your shoulders. “Anything else going on? Contractions?” You nodded. “How often?”

“I don’t know. Like maybe every half hour but my back is killing me. It just—it hasn’t stopped hurting since it started last night.” She was listening so intently that it made you nervous. “The contractions don’t hurt, but man, they make the back pain fucking horrible.”

Carol smoothed your hair and took your face in her hands, giving you that sweet Carol smile. “Sweetheart, I think that your water did break and that you’re in labor.” You felt your eyes widen and your breaths coming quicker. “It’s okay, just breathe. Daryl’s on his way over with Hershel.”

Daryl came straight to you, the nervousness surrounding him so strongly that it made your chest tighten further. He didn’t say anything as he usually did when you floundered over your responses. When Hershel asked permission to examine you then and there, you began to fidget.

“I guess there’s not much of a choice, is there?” You lamented, looking to your partner. His head was down and he was trembling. You’d have to talk to him later when there was no one else around.

“I’m afraid not.” Hershel could see you were anxious. His soft spoken words were proof enough of that.

Daryl climbed into the cab first and helped you in, letting you rest your head on his thigh while Carol pulled off your sodden leggings and underwear. The examination was quick, much to your relief.

“As far as I can tell, it was indeed your water breaking. We have no litmus paper for confirmation, but the source of the fluid appears to be from the vaginal opening and not the urethra.” You knew this would happen eventually but that made it no less terrifying. “You can likely expect the contractions to become more intense, closer together as you dilate. They may or may not be painful as we talked about. Daryl, you’ll need to time them.”

“Okay.” Was all he said, quiet and contemplative. Hands at your shoulder blades, he helped you to sit up.

“Rick,” the vet called out, “we need to find somewhere safe and fast.” The deputy jogged over, looking quizzically between all the faces. Carol quickly occupied the old man’s place with fresh clothing from your bag, covering your lower half from view. “Y/N will be giving birth soon and needs a quiet, safe enough place to deliver.”

“These are likely to get wet too, but you can’t ride around in soaked clothing. Beth and Maggie had some pads, so I thought maybe they could help, too.” You nodded robotically. This should be the happiest experience of your life and all you could feel was an overwhelming sense of foreboding. What if you screamed during the birth and brought down a herd? What if the baby cried too loud? What if something went wrong? What if? What if? What if?

Carol helped you get dressed and situated in the truck while Daryl looked over a map with the others. You watched him from the side mirror, smiling when you saw that he could barely focus, continuously glancing toward the truck. You could feel the beginnings of another contraction, the twitching inside before your stomach would tighten and you’d need to breathe through the pain in your back. It still wasn’t unbearable but it was enough to coax a whimper from your lips. Right in the middle of the episode, there was a gentle tap on the window. Lori was looking through the glass sympathetically, waiting patiently until you could use the window crank.

“How’re you holding up?” She asked, reaching in to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You saw no reason to lie. “I’m terrified.” Wringing your hands over your belly, you sniffled in an attempt to hold back the tears. Crying wouldn’t solve anything. “I don’t know what to expect. The pain, you know. What if I cause someone to get hurt because I can’t take it? What if something’s wrong with Thumper? What if—”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Her hand landed gently on your shoulder and you lost the battle with the tears that were demanding to fall. “Everything you’re feeling is normal. Well, as normal as it can be in a world full of the walking dead. It’s all going to be fine. All things considered, you’ve handled this pregnancy like a warrior. I have no doubt that you’ll get through bringing that baby into the world just fine.”

You wiped at your face almost angrily. “Really?”

“Really.” She smiled, looking as if she were going to say something else but her eyes moved to somewhere behind you. She squeezed your shoulder. “It’ll all be okay. We’re going to be leaving soon. We’ll find a safe place.” Another glance behind you and, holding her smile, she walked away.

You were rolling up the window when the driver’s door opened and Daryl climbed in, shutting the door behind him. “Ya doin’ okay?” His voice was just as shaky as he was.

“I’m okay.” You kept your expression soft and reached for his hand. He let you take it. “Are you okay?”

“Mhm.” He squeezed your fingers and pulled his hand back to start the engine and take hold of the shifter but he didn’t move it.

“Daryl?”

“M’scared shitless.” You blinked for a moment before quickly dismissing the shock from your expression. “Dunno what m’doin’. Dunno how—what m’s’posed to do to help you.” He was staring straight ahead, carefully avoiding your gaze. It was obvious that wasn’t easy for him to admit.

“Hey.” He ducked his head but he didn’t look at you. “We’re both lost here, but we’ve made it this far.” With a noise of effort and discomfort, you scooted across the seat. The movement had him looking your way with a quick turn of his head.

“What—quit it ‘fore ya—”

“Shut up.” You wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him forward for a kiss. It was difficult to hold the position you found yourself in, your back singing with pain, but you both needed the comfort, the closeness. When you separated, you kept the hold on his neck and pressed your forehead to his. “We’re in this together. ‘We’ll handle it’, remember?” Clearing his throat, he waited a moment before he nodded, his forehead bumping yours.

The van pulled up alongside the truck. With a last kiss to his forehead, you slid back across the seat and slouched to take some of the pressure off your back. Daryl nodded to Rick and then pulled off the roadside and followed behind the others.

“That one actually hurt.” You breathed, rubbing a hand over your belly as the pain faded. You’d been on the road for about three hours, stopping at two homes, both with too many dead wandering too close by. Daryl glanced up at you and then back to the watch he had balanced on top of the steering wheel.

“Last one was ‘bout 21 minutes ago, this’un was ‘bout 52 seconds.” He sat the watch on the seat by his leg and switched hands on the wheel, resting his left elbow on the window panel so he could rub his thumb back and forth across his lip while he obviously chewed the inside of his cheek.

“So they’re lasting about the same amount of time but they’re definitely getting closer together.” Shifting in the seat a little, you hissed at the twinge of pain in your back. “God, my back is the worst part right now, but if it doesn’t get any worse than this, I’ll be golden.” You were very doubtful you’d be that lucky but one could dream, right?

“M’sorry.” Daryl mumbled from behind his thumb.

Your brow furrowed, your head shaking back and forth in confusion. “Why are you sorry?”

“M’the reason you’re goin’ through this.” He cleared his throat sharply, biting into the side of his thumb with more vigor than you’d ever seen before.

“Last time I checked, I was a willing participant in the creation of this tiny human.” You chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood. There was a dense fog of tension building inside the cab, one you intended to disperse as quickly as possible before it could soak into either one of you. “This is our baby, Daryl. We decided to do this together.” You started to reach for him but thought better of it for the moment. “We’re going to do this together.”

He looked over at you, glancing back at the road every few seconds. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

You shook your head and smiled fondly. “If the baby is as quiet as you are when they’re upset, then we won’t need to worry about them attracting walkers.” You had meant it as a joke but the archer immediately blanched. “No, Daryl, I just—shit, that was the worst. I’m sorry.”

“Babies cry. How—what—”

“We’ll deal with it when we have to deal with it. Right now, let’s just focus on actually having a baby, okay?” That was enough to at least have him lapse into silence with a nod. You watched the sky darken, knowing two things: there would be no shelter before dark and the vehicles would soon need fuel. Daryl must have been thinking the same, his eyes darting down toward the dashboard. His thumb was hovering in front of his mouth, a smear of blood on each.

“Gonna have to camp tonight.” He swallowed so hard that you saw his throat working. “They’re gonna hafta go lookin’ for fuel.”

“You’re not—”

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” The conviction in his tone filled your chest with warmth, even if he didn’t look at you. You couldn’t express your appreciation before another contraction began to build.

“Fuck.” You breathed, holding the side of your belly with one hand while the other reached for the dash. Daryl didn’t need clarification, just reached to pick up the watch. Your back screamed while your stomach tightened and cramped, pulling a whimper from within you that you couldn’t seem to stifle. Breathe, idiot, you told yourself. In through the nose, out through the mouth. It wasn’t the worst pain you’d ever felt, but it still fucking hurt. Seconds felt like hours but soon enough, you could feel the pain ebbing away, your body relaxing. “Christ.” You fell back against the seat, completely wrung out.

Daryl was still holding the watch, glancing between it, you, and the road. “Minute an' four seconds, last'un was 19 minutes ago.” Before you could comment, the truck sputtered and jerked. The archer was barely able to get it onto the side of the road before it died. He flashed the lights to signal the van, the brake lights illuminating the road ahead as Rick turned around. Daryl’s hands dropped to his lap, his head bowed to stare at them. “Gettin’ closer together.” He almost whispered.

“Yeah.” It was all you could think of to say. “I am not having this baby on the side of the road.” Even as the words left your mouth, you didn’t believe a single syllable.

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greatooglymooglyyy · 23 days

Text

The Last Ride Chapter 7 (AU Cowboy!C.Sturniolo)

summary: when spoiled and sheltered city girl Y/N finds herself in running in the wrong crowd, her dad gives her an ultimatum. it's either spend the summer of her gap year on her uncle's ranch or face being cut off and finding a job. just when she thinks it can't get any worse, she meets Chris, the brooding farmhand who thinks he knows her type. but as the summer goes on, they both realize there may be more to the other than meets the eye.

advised and cowritten by @rootbeerworshiper

contains: cursing, kissing, general fluff, verbal arguments, mentions of toxic relationships, angst, 3.7k words

a/n: sigh. here y'all go. damn.

series masterlist

“What if instead of cleaning duty, I was on horses today?”

I look up at him from under my lashes as he scans over his clipboard with today’s task list.

“Hmm..” Chris taps a finger against his chin, tilting his head as if in deep thought. “How about no?”

“Please?” I beg, not caring at all about the slight whine in my voice. When he doesn’t answer, I step a little closer and drop my voice to a whisper. “I’ll kiss you again.”

Chris arches an eyebrow and gives me his cocky smirk. “You were gonna do that anyway.”

Wow. Someone’s gotta humble this kid. I open my mouth but my words get lost when I focus on his lips, his tongue prodding teasingly against his bottom one. Damn it. He’s got a point.

When I throw my head back in a dramatic show of defeat, he laughs and touches my waist lightly. “Sorry, Scotch. No favoritism. You gotta see Cinnamon on your own time.”

I shoot him a glare that turns into a small smile without my permission when I meet his teasing eyes. His hand on my waist lingers longer than necessary as he trails his eyes over my face. Just when I’m sure he’s about to lean in, a couple of the hands walk by and Chris pulls away.

He claps as he recovers, apparently remembering he’s in charge. “Alright. Get a move on. Last time you left milk in my buckets and they soured.”

Covering my mouth in mock horror, I gasp. “Oh my. Not the buckets!”

Chris bites his lip to stop his smile. “Watch it. Keep it up and I’ma put you on pigs tomorrow. Let ‘em dust your ass again.”

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

My lip curls up with disgust as I drop my soaked gloves into the trash bin and turn around. Turns out that disinfecting animal equipment is absolutely disgusting. Who would have thought?

Suppressing the urge to shudder at the memory of caked-on curdled milk, I smile at a passing worker as he collects the buckets to redistribute them. He nods his head back in friendly recognition. “Chris said to send ‘ya round to the cows when you’re all done.”

He’s leaning against a truck, staring at someone testing out paint colors on the barn with an inscrutable look on his face. My heartbeat doubles embarrassingly when his eyes find me but I force myself to not let it show. He doesn’t react outwardly either, but I clock how he readjusts slightly like he’s trying his hardest to stay still.

“You rang, bossman?”

He rolls his eyes and gestures towards the painter. “This is all your fault.”

Okay, so that was technically true. But how was I supposed to know when I told Birdie the peeling paint made my eyes bleed, she’d make my uncle redo it?

“I never told her to make it red. She always half listens to me.” I counter, leaning against the door beside him and letting our arms brush.

He glances over at me, the barest hint of a smile on his lips. “Speaking of not listening, didn’t I tell you to make sure you grabbed all the buckets?”

“I literally did!” I answer, panic raising at the idea of having to scrub more nasty equipment.

“You literally didn’t.” He says with a butchered valley girl impression. “Coulda sworn I say some of the other side of here. Come see.”

I sigh as I follow him to the back of the barn, already growing irritated at Chris’ nitpicking. But as soon as we are out of eyeshot, he stops short and turns to me. Before I can ask what’s wrong, he leans in, bending his head low and tilting my chin up with his fingertips, before pressing his lips to mine.

It’s a sweet kiss, not unlike the handful we’ve already shared, but there's some urgency beneath this one, his tongue moving against mine. When he pulls away, it takes all my energy not to follow him and bring his face back to mine.

He leans back and studies my face, running his thumb under my lip before dropping his hand. “I’ve been wanting to do that since breakfast.”

“Why didn’t you?” I question with a smile, watching as he leans against the wall of the barn.

He scoffs and crosses his arms. “And have your uncle get to whoopin’ my ass over grits? No shot.”

I smile at the thought of that. “You’re right. It would be pretty funny though.”

Chris just rolls his eyes, using his hands to pull me into him by my belt loops, our bodies leaned against the barn wall. “It’s like you just live to see me suffer.”

“Need I remind you of the work I was doing at the barn today? I’m gonna have nightmares about the smell.” I shiver slightly, reminiscing on the sour smell of milk and strong chemicals combined.

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear while his other hand simply rubs my lower back. I’m not entirely sure what’s gotten into him but he’s definitely more affectionate than normal.

“What are you doing tonight?” He smiles, making eye contact with me and immediately causing me to look down.

Unfortunately for me, he doesn’t let me have that luxury for more than a few seconds, his finger lifting my chin to force my gaze back onto him.

“You ask me that every time as if I’m ever doing anything but hanging around you.” I lean in to close the space and place another quick kiss on his smirking lips. “Where’re you taking me now boss?”

“What makes you think you’re getting another date?” He asks as if the answer isn’t completely obvious.

I look up as if I'm really racking my brain for an answer before looking back at his blue eyes again. “I happen to think I know you pretty well. Now tell me, am I wearing a dress, or is this another good ol country get-together?”

“Call me uneducated but I’m not entirely sure on the dress code for every date.” He laughs. “State fair’s coming down, thought you might wanna go on a few rides.”

I gasp with a smile plastered on my face as I step back from him. “Really?”

“Really. Better go looking for outfit ideas soon, Scotch. I’ll pick you up for eight.”

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

“Since when were you scared of rollercoasters?” I ask, my arm intertwined with Chris’ as we walk past the brightly colored food trucks.

He scoffs dramatically, shaking his head. “I’m not scared of them, I don’t know what you’re on about.”

“Really? Because from where I was sitting, it was hard to tell your screams apart from the ten-year-old behind us.” I tease, leaning my head onto his shoulder.

Chris just kisses the top of my head. “I really can’t catch a break with you, can I sweetheart?”

“No, you cannot.” I smile to myself before a sign catches my eye. “Oh my god!”

I pull Chris by his hand, not stopping to explain what has me walking so fast. “Woah, what’d I miss?”

I catch my breath momentarily before replying. “They have my favorite lemonade here. I haven’t had it since my mom took me to the Cali expo.”

He looks down at me, eyes laced with a hint of concern at the casual mention of my deadbeat mother.

Before I can reassure him that I’m okay, it’s my turn to order. “Hi. I’ll have a large raspberry lemonade please.”

I reach for my wallet but by the time my eyes scan back to the cashier Chris is already handing them a ten-dollar bill. “Keep the change.” He smiles, grabs my drink for me, and begins to walk away from me.

The first sip transports me back to my childhood so quickly, I almost mistake Chris’ arm brushing against mine for my mom’s. Almost.

But the smile he gives me when I glance up at him is enough to keep me from letting those thoughts linger. Instead, I hold out the cup for him to take, listening to the satisfying sound of the ice sloshing against the plastic.

“Try it,” I demand. “It’s like sunshine in a cup.”

His eyes light up with amusement as he takes the cup, tilting it to peer inside. “Sunshine, huh? Awful big promise.”

I shrug, watching closely as he takes a weary sip. “You could have flipped the straw.” I joke when he hands it back, nodding his approval.

He raises an eyebrow and chuckles. “Oh, so you can stick your tongue down my throat but we can’t share a drink?”

“Don’t recall that.” I lie, as I walk over to an empty picnic table and swing my leg over the bench.

“Yeah? Lemme remind you.”

He leans down, tipping my head up so he can kiss me slow and heavy. I reach up and tangle my hands in his hair. Just as I start to deepen the kiss, someone clears their throat and I pull away quickly, the memory that we are in public heating my face.

Chris just laughs, completely undeterred and unembarrassed, before he takes a seat next to me. He reaches over and takes the cup again, taking a slow and deliberate drink from the straw, all the while keeping his eyes trained up on mine.

“Cute,” I say when he hands the cup back, a smirk growing on his face.

“Thanks. I thought so.”

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

“I cannot believe you talked me into this,” I say mortified as I look around at the children occupying the other teacups. Yeah, that’s right. Teacups. Because I’m on a date with a child apparently.

“What are you talking about? This is the best part.”

Chris’ face across from me is one of pure and utter glee. A soft and playful demeanor he rarely wears coming to the surface. It’s so cute, I can’t help but match his smile.

The ride begins and we start spinning slowly, Chris’ hands resting longingly on the wheel. I had expected him to turn it as quickly as he could the minute we started but I guess he wants to be a gentleman.

Thankfully, I am very much under no obligation to be one.

Shooting him an evil grin, I spin the wheel like I’m steering a rouge pirate ship, cackling when the momentum sends him flying to the side.

He looks up surprised but grins back, spinning the opposite way even faster until we are both slipping and sliding, laughing uncontrollably.

I end up sliding over to him and he wraps an arm around my shoulder, slowing down the spinning a bit. I feel his thumb gently smoothing against my arm as I lean into him. “This was my plan all along.” He says softly into my hair.

I smile up at him, content as the world around us continues to spin.

The ride is over way too fast for my liking but it’s probably for the best. Forty-five seconds in and I’m already seeing double of Chris.

He hops off the ride first, extending a hand and helping me out. My first steps are a bit wobbly and he laughs, slinging an arm around my shoulder and pulling me into his side.

“Easy, baby. How about we switch it up and go play some games?”

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

I press the back of my hand to my mouth, trying to cover my laughter, as Chris misses his final ball toss. And by final I mean, the fourth round that he’s paid for and missed every single time.

“Y’all got them motherfuckers glued down.” He accuses, jokingly pushing his buddy who’s working the stand.

The boy, who I remember vaguely from our night at Hank’s, smiles back tauntingly and walks over to the glass bottles, picking one up for demonstration. “Ain’t nobody cheating you. You just suck, Sturniolo.”

My laughter bursts out at this but I quickly play it off as a cough when Chris’ attention snaps back to me. “Why don’t we try another game?”

“No chance. You said you want that penguin, you’re getting that there penguin.” He says squaring his shoulders and pointing at the hanging toy.

Oh god. He might as well bang on his chest and swing from a vine.

“Can we just buy the penguin?” I ask the worker, giving him a sweet smile. He leans in, a bit charmed before he notices Chris’ eyes on him and takes a step back, shaking his head.

I sigh and pull out my wallet, grabbing a few dollars to pay the fee. But before I can hand it over, Chris grabs my arm, his eyes wide. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m winning you that penguin.” I say as I place the money into the boy’s hand and pick up one of the balls.

“Okay fine. But at least waste my money instead of yours.” He mumbles as I wind back and completely overshoot on my first try.

The worker steps forward, giving me quiet advice on how to set my feet and I nod thankfully before I toss my second ball. It bounces off the ledge and moves the glass a bit but it doesn’t fall.

Motivated now, I try again, tuning out Chris’ rambling advice and aiming similarly to how he taught me to fish. The ball crashes through the bottles and the pyramid crumbles to my and Chris’ shared shock.

We look at each other stunned for a second before exploding with celebration as if I had just won the Superbowl. I’m serious. Pretty sure there was a chest bump involved.

The worker rolls his eyes but there’s a small smile on his lips as he takes down our prize and hands it over. “Here. Now gon’ get away from my stand. I’m gonna throw up.”

Chris grins at the penguin, handing it to me as we walk away. “Good shit, Scotch. I never doubted you for a second.”

I scoff, tucking my stuffed animal under my arm and looking up at him. “You did. But that’s okay. We just proved which one of us got game.” I lace my voice with a perfect impression of his cocky confidence and he kisses his teeth.

“Yeah, yeah. You won this one. Bet you don’t wanna see me in basketball though?” He says, already taking off towards the booth like a little kid.

I huff in faux anger as I race to beat him there. “Chris. You are such a cheat!”

But as I hear his playful laughter ring through the courtyard, it’s impossible not to join in.

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

“Looks like they’re about to close up. You bout ready to call it?” Chris asks, bringing my hand up to his mouth and pressing a quick kiss to it.

I nod, trying not to let the disappointment at the night ending show on my face. “Okay.”

We start walking towards the parking lot slowly, trying to stretch the minutes we have together. As if I don’t see him every day. Somehow it’s still not enough.

“So…” He starts, stretching the word out dramatically. “How was our first real date for you? Give it to me straight. I can take it.”

I laugh and roll my eyes. “God. I hate to inflate your ego anymore. But it’s definitely been the best date I’ve ever had.” I shake my head a bit embarrassed as I add a quiet, “Not that I’ve been on many.”

He scrunches his face up as if that’s impossible for him to believe and I just shrug as if to say ‘what can I say?”

“Alright. What’s up with those West Coast boys? They blind or somethin’?” Chris asks lightly, his eyes glancing down to where our hands swing interlocked between us.

I laugh darkly in response, the memory of Jace souring my mood a bit. “More like I couldn’t see past my ex… or whatever he is.” I shake my head and sigh at how dumb I feel not knowing what to call him. “It was complicated. I’ve loved him- I mean, I loved him for a long time.”

Glancing up to meet Chris’ eye, I can tell he’s fighting between wanting to ask more questions and not wanting to press me. But after all the vulnerability he’s shown me lately, the least I can do is open up in return. I give him an encouraging smile and he finally continues. “When did y’all break up?”

The question rattles me immediately and I stop short. Technically…I mean… Did we? Not that Jace and I were ever anything near official and especially not that I have any delusions of him waiting up for me. But it’s true that we never had a conversation about calling it quits. Instead, I blocked him and hopped on a plane.

Worry skates across Chris' features at my silence as we watch each other for a second. “Scotch… You did break up with him, right?”

“Yes. I did…I think. Just not in so many words.”

Chris drops my hand, tilting his head and giving me a look of complete and utter disbelief. “You think or you know? Throw me a bone here and tell me I haven’t been losing my mind over somebody else’s girl.”

“You haven’t!” I say, my voice coming out sharper than I meant it to. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Dating is different in the city.”

His brow crinkles and his voice grows smaller. “You get down like that?”

And I don’t know if it’s his words or the way he’s looking at me like he just found out I don’t light up the sky, but something sets me off.

“You have no right.” I grind out, stepping closer and digging a finger into his chest to emphasize my point. “Don’t insinuate a thing about me like you’re some Sunday school saint. You don’t think I’ve heard about you and your ‘whores of the week’? You get down like that?”

The laugh he gives me is clipped and he takes a step back, looking over my shoulder as if he can’t stand to meet my eye. “If you believe that bullshit talk, that’s on you. I’m going off the words from your mouth. You don’t even bother to put the poor guy down before you're stringing another idiot along.”

My eyes narrow to slits. “Take. Me. Home.”

“You. Got. It.” He answers, mocking my cadence and stomping off toward his truck. I trail behind him in silence, trying to hold back my emotions as adorable couples pass us by hand-in-hand. A few feet away from the car, he turns back around and glares at me, hurt and anger warring in his eyes.

“Just tell me one thing, Y/N. How long were you gonna wait before you ran back to that loser, huh? How long after I dropped you off at the airport? Were you gonna give me a month at least? A week?”

“It’s not like that, Chris,” I say, pleading creeping into my response without my permission. “I hadn’t thought it all through but I was trying to be done with him.”

His lips pull up in the mockery of his usual smile; this one is cold and unlike him. “Oh! Well, as long as you’re trying. Why didn’t you just say so?”

Rolling my eyes at his sarcasm, I step around him and pull against my door handle, finding it locked. “Hurry up before I walk home,” I say, running my fingers through my hair, wincing when I hear his mocking laugh.

He doesn’t say a word, just walks over and unlocks the truck on my side, swinging it open before heading back around. I rest my fingertips on the frame of the door, watching as Chris climbs in and starts the truck, but I hesitate to get in. “I’m not a whore.” I say, my voice remaining strong despite how much I want to break.

Chris looks over at me, the furrow between his brows deepening. “I never once called you one.”

“Then why is it so easy for you to believe I’m trying to play you?”

“Because you’re you, Scotch.” He says simply, his grip on the steering wheel tight.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I cry, frustration at how quickly this all went south rising to the surface.

He’s silent for a beat and the sounds of the fair become audible again. The sound of children laughing and faint carnival music at odds with the tension sitting between us.

“You know what it means.”

My breath hitches for a second but I nod, somewhat happy my doubts are confirmed. The ones that screamed at me Chris would never see past that stereotype that he pegged for the first day we met. The ones that whispered I will always be missing something vital but no one will care enough to tell me what it is.

I slam his car door shut and turn on my heel, walking vaguely toward the direction we came from. Chris is calling my name behind me but I keep my eyes forward even as they grow blurry. When I almost trip over the rocky asphalt, I stop and rip off my heels, carrying them in my hands as I keep forward.

From my peripheral, I see the truck pull up beside me, slowing to crawl and rolling the window down. “Okay, you’ve made your scene. Get in the car.” Chris says, sounding every bit as exhausted as I feel.

Ignoring him, I train my eyes forward, panic raising when I realize the sidewalk ends a few feet ahead. While I’m debating what to do, Chris calls my name again sharper this time.

Cars begin honking behind him as we both come to a stop. Just as I’m about to say fuck it and keep it pushing into the street, Chris’ patience snaps. “Get in the car, Scotch!” He hollers, reaching over and flinging the door open. “I’m not gonna watch you get hit by a fucking high roller.”

My lip trembles as I finally cut my eyes over to his. We stare at each other for a moment before the melody of horns starts back up and snaps us out of it.

“Please.” He whispers so quietly I have to read his lips to hear him.

So I do. Hopping wordlessly into the car, I let him take me home while I stare out the window, my mind racing. And not for the first time, the center console between us feels like it might as well be as tall as the Great Wall.

🏷️// @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos @teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @fratbrochrisgf @sturniolosmind @imfromthediningtable @st4rswrld @thvvluvr @sturnssmuts @littlenerdybee @sturniolossss @iloveneilperry @eclipzw @chrissloverrrrrrr16 @sstvrnioloo @clemlament @fwskullz @luv4kozume @xoxo4chrisss @ribread03 @h3arts4harry @chrissystur @pepsiboyy

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exhaslo · 3 months

Note

Hey, if you're still taking requests, then can I request Farmer!reader x business man! Miguel? It can be nsft or fluff.

Ohhhhh, a different turn of events. I got just the idea for this!!!

Warning: None, just fluff

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun blazed brightly against the hot, humid sky. A large empty field that offered no sign of building to cool down in. The summer humidity making it hotter than it should be. Not a single breeze to give any sort of comfort either. It was truly a day from hell.

This was not how Miguel wanted his day to go. Currently, the business man was leaning against the hood of his car, cussing loudly. The motor broke down in the rental he got for an out of town trip. Now, not only was he late, but there was no sign of a town nearby.

Miguel was fucked.

Laughing to himself, Miguel claimed that this was why he never left the city. It was a damn good thing Lyla told him to bring a case of water and some food for the trip. Miguel had been broken down for hours now and not a single car had passed by.

"And there's no signal," Miguel hissed, tossing his phone into his car, "Fuck!"

It was a bad idea to walk too. Miguel forgot how far the last town was and who knows when the next one would be. Miguel could be walking for hours before spotting a sign. This was true bullshit.

--------

It had been another two hours and Miguel felt like he was going insane. Sitting on top of the roof of his car, Miguel sighed as he wiped his sweat with his tie. It was scorching. Miguel was afraid that the heat would take him at this rate.

Miguel groaned before immediately going silent. He furrowed his brows and stood. It sounded like there was a car coming. Finally. After hours of waiting! Hearing the sound of a car getting louder, Miguel stood on the roof of his car and looked around.

There, off in the distance, was you in your pick up truck. Miguel was relieved to finally see a human. Waving his arms around, Miguel sighed in relief as you came to a stop.

"Oof, how long you've been stuck there, pal?" You asked. Miguel shrugged,

"I've lost track. The sun was to my left when my car broke down," He told you. You sucked against your teeth,

""Yikes. Hop in, next town ain't for a while, but I got enough room for you to crash the night. I'll call my neighbor to pick up your car and get it fixed."

"Thank you. Just tell me the cost and I'll pay it," Miguel entered your truck, buckling up, "Money is no issue."

"From the city, huh?"

"Yes?"

"Got that city smell. I don't need money, my neighbor might. I just like to lend a helping hand,"

Miguel was hesitant, but appreciated the save anyway. It was a quiet ride as you sang to your music. Miguel focused on the area around him. The large farm land that stretched for miles. Honestly, he should have asked if you could take him to the next town, but the heat wasn't make him think straight.

"Do you work in these fields?"

"Yep. All of this land is mine and my family. I tend to the crop that we just passed, but had to watch the animals on my cousin's land for the day. Poor child is sick," You said with a chirp, "Ain't used to this?"

"No," Miguel said honestly, spotting a house in the distance, "Are you sure you're alright with taking a stranger into your home?"

"My dogs bite," You said almost too innocently before laughing, "I ain't no fool. I offer you shelter, but I do expect some help with a few things. Aside from that, you'll be in a guest house behind my main house. If you try to sneak into my house at night, not only will the dogs attack you but also my pigs."

"Pigs can attack?" Miguel asked, confused.

"Mine are very protective of their owner."

Miguel couldn't help but chuckle lowly. You were an interesting character. Honest, king and quite charming. As you pulled into the house, Miguel was surprised to see the mansion you owned. Who would have thought at a farmer would have such a nice home.

"Don't look too surprised. I make good money with my farms. Ain't as fancy looking as you city folk, but I make an honest living."

"I didn't say you don't." Miguel hummed and followed you to the guest house, "I won't lie, I am a little surprised. Now, what did you need help with. I would like to pay you back for giving me a place to stay the night."

You opened the door to the guest house and smiled towards Miguel. Giving him a small tour, you decided to let Miguel into your main home. Leading him into the kitchen, you took off your hat and boots, sighing in relief.

"All I ask in return is assistance with dinner," You smiled and handed Miguel a knife, "Do people in the city cook for themselves?"

"Wow, do all of you farmers look down on us?"

"No, just me." You teased, "You're not the first one from the city to break down on that road, but you are one of the only few to listen."

Miguel didn't have the heart to tell you that he was just exhausted after hours in the sun. To be honest, this was the most he spoke to strangers at all. Well, it was the least he could do since you did get him out of that situation.

----------

It was getting late. After Miguel helped you in the kitchen, you offered him a drink for a job well done. Miguel happily took your offer, but decided to shower in the guest house first. You did the same and cooed in relief once you got comfortable.

Planting yourself on your couch, you started to relax after a long, hard day of work. Your cats, dogs, piglets and ducklings all started to swarm into the living room, demanding your attention. You chuckled towards the crowd,

"You're all so needy today! What, don't like your momma's new friend? Is he that big and scary to you all?!"

"Animals do tend to fear me," Miguel said, knocking before entering your home, "Thank you again for your help."

"Happy to be of it. My neighbor called a bit ago, your car should be good by noon tomorrow."

Miguel thanked you again and took a seat across from you. Damn, he looked fine. There weren't many men your age in town, so you had slim pickings, but the city? Phew, Miguel was a fine catch, but how were you to charm him?

Pulling out the drinks, you offered Miguel first. You knew better than to let a stranger into your home, let alone a man, but there was something different about Miguel. Also, you weren't lying about your pets...they were all ready to pounce on him.

As the night continued, both you and Miguel started to have a few too many drinks. You shared some stories with him and visa versa. It started to feel more like a date if anything. One you were actually enjoying.

"C'mon city boy, tell me more about your fancy little woman. Ain't no way she can be real." You chuckled, nudging his side as a movie played. Miguel scoffed,

"I would introduce you to Lyla, but the signal out here isn't receiving well."

"Oh, sorry about that, let me connect you to my WIFI." You gasped, leaning over him to get your phone.

Miguel closed his eyes as your breasts pressed against his face for a moment. His face heating up slightly upon contact.

"Where's your phone?"

"Here," Miguel muttered, avoiding eye contact with you, "Just don't touch anything but the WIFI. I have important folders in there."

"I won't," You replied, "There."

"Lyla?" Miguel sighed.

You gasped in awe as Lyla appeared in front of Miguel. Your eyes sparkled at the sight of the tiny AI. Lyla just smiled as she started to observe you.

"Migueeeeeel, you should have just said you were finally spending time with a girl than going offline~" She cooed. Miguel flinched,

"I was offline!" He hissed and tried shooing Lyla away.

"Fiiiine, I'll leave you two alone."

Miguel groaned lowly as he covered his face before taking another shot of vodka. You glanced at Miguel, resisting a chuckle since you were in the same boat. Taking another shot yourself, you nudged Miguel's side once more.

"So even in the big city there aren't that many fish, huh?" Miguel chuckled as he leaned back,

"Guess not. Had to leave to find a nice catch,"

"Oh?" You smiled brightly, feeling your heart skip a beat, "Well, if I recall I was the one with the fishing rod."

Miguel's lips cracked into a smile as he listened to you. You were truly something else. Feeling something crawl onto his lap, Miguel noticed your pets starting to cozy up to him.

"I suppose you were."

--------

Miguel stared at his rental car with contempt. While he was ready to return to his work and apologize to his partners for being late, Miguel also wanted to stay. He quite enjoyed the peace and quite you had offered him.

"Have I made that much of an impact?" You teased, leaning against his car, "I could always use an extra worker,"

"Thanks for the offer, but I don't believe my company could afford me leaving," Miguel hummed and approached you, "But, I may have to take this road again...soon."

"Oh? Then I better keep a look out for a poor soul in need of saving."

"You just might have too."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you enjoyed!!

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel x you

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trash-magics-blog · 9 months

Text

"You need a man... Not a boy"

Captain Price x Reader (NSFW)

Summary: Your current bf is being a little bitch so John decides to put him in his place... And treat you right while he is at it

(Boyfriends name is Sean and you guys are arguing about him being childish and unruly.. TW for alcohol, I'm straight up obsessed with this man pls)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I fucking HATE you Sean! You're so fucking childish... Whenever I do something wrong you pout and run off to your mom, your almost 25! You yelled from your guys room, you and Sean had been fighting all day and you were so close to calling it quits.

"What the fuck ever you bitch! I'm leaving your ass, I hope you make it out there without me!" He stormed out of the house and slammed the door, it sounded like it broke and you also heard his car drive off, he finally left.

You and Sean were together for about 6 months and it was constant issues... From him being childish to him straight up hiding your keys and phone so you couldn't talk to your friends, it was due time for you to leave but you just couldn't pull yourself to do so, even if your best friend John told you that you could find better.

John Price. He was your closest friend, you guys met at a bar and you've always stayed in touch even when he left on his missions and whatnot but no matter what he was always there for you, more than your now ex boyfriend ever was. John didn't like Sean at all, said he was to much of a child, unbeknownst to you John was always trying to hint at you and him, but he didn't beat around the bush, he just didn't even stand by the bush. He was awful at hinting at things.

You called John, trying not to cry about the situation at hand, your house was a mess and everything was just a mess. "Hey John... I was wondering if you can come over?" He could sense the sadness in your voice and didn't hesitate to leave and go be with you. "I'll be there soon love, just give me a bit". After about 15 minutes John showed up and walked in, not minding the mess or anything and immediately wrapped you in a bear hug, he could tell what happened and was sorry for you, but also somewhat glad Sean left... You were John's now and he was gonna make sure of it.

"He called me a bitch and everything John... And he trashed the house and broke the damn door" you said into his shoulder, you had started to cry and pulled away from his hug to sit on the couch, John followed. You and him talked for awhile, he lifted your mood instantly and made you almost forget all of this drama and he helped you pick up the house somewhat. You loved John but didn't realise it till now, the way he made you feel and just everything about him made you love him, he was everything you needed in a man.

"Ya know what, how about we go out for drinks... You could use a few and I know the best spot in town" he suggested, you had no real reason to say no so you agreed and you two got in his car. "Sorry John, didn't mean to drag you into all this" you put your hand on your head and sighed, clearly a bit ashamed and slightly embarrassing. He put his hand on your thigh and squeezed it, causing her heart to flutter and he spoke "Oh love, I don't mind and you know that, he was a joke anyway... You need a man, not a damn child anyway, your to beautiful and too good of a person ya know" he blushed a little as he said that and you noticed, but didn't say anything just smiled to yourself and continued to look out the window, John's hand never left your thigh during the ride.

Soon you guys arrived at a random bar, you didn't catch the name of it. John came over and opened your door for you and helped you climb out of the truck, he had it lifted a bit, not a lot. You always loved how gentle and how old fashioned he was, he always opened the door for you and let you go first with anything, he knew how to love someone. As you guys made your way through the crowd of people and to the bar he put his hand on your thigh again, but higher.

"I'll take a scotch please... What'd you want love?" John asked, smiling at you. "I'll take strawberry wine please" you smiled at the Bartender and he went off to get your guys drinks. After you and john got your drinks you guys talked for what felt like hours, about anything and everything as well. There were a couple times where he made you laugh quite loudly causing people to look but you guys didn't care, you were having some much needed fun.

It reached the end of the night and the bar was nearly empty and you guys decided to leave finally after a couple rounds of drinks. You guys made it to his truck and you both got in the truck and just sat there, you both knew that there were deeper feelings peeking through, it was just a matter of who said it first. You heard john sigh and he looked over at you, you knew what was coming.

"Come here love, please...?" He asked, his voice sounded soft and he reached his hand out, to pull you into his lap. As you went over and sat in his lap you guys looked at eachother then you decided to do it, you grabbed his face and kissed him, he kissed back and pulled your hips to him. He slipped his tongue through your lips and the taste and burn of scotch hit your tongue and it sent a shiver down your spine... *The end of part 1*

A/N: I decided it would be like a little much to put the whole story in one post so the next part will be out whenever I get to it, I know I already have another price story needing to be finished but that done I just need to post it😭😭 I only come back to this when I'm like bored or whatever, but I hope you liked this!!

#cod mw2 #mw2 x reader #captian price #john price #i have a taste for men who are older #john price smut #mw2 smut #cod smut #captain price smut #john price x reader #captain john price x you #captain john price #captain price #call of duty smut #i love him #need this #cutie pie #goofy

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octuscle · 1 month

Note

Howdy, Support! I'm a 22yo twink working at a rest stop in the middle of nowhere. Only good part about my job is uh..."servicing" the passing truckers. One of 'em is a real beast of a man; late thirties, tall, burly and hairy, with a big, solid beer/roid gut that's always straining against his filthy tanktop. Everytime he stops by, we have a beer shotgun contest right in front of everyone. Loser blows the winner in the stalls. I normally enjoy losing (not that I have a choice), but this time, I want him to meet his match...literally! I want to drink him under the table, and with each beer I down, I want to feel my gut grow heavier and larger as my work clothes turn into a stained tanktop and I gradually transform into a hulking, hairy trucker that stinks of sweat, just like him. I've programmed all the relevant settings for height, muscle, hair, BO, attitude and clothing, but I just realized I don't know how to sync the transformation to an event trigger like shotgunning the beers, much less on how to make it gradual! Please help me, he's due today!

I love challenges… First of all, I'll add one more skill to your traits. "Stable up to 3.5 per mille". I don't know how much your crush can take. But now you've got a damn good chance of drinking the guy under the table. However, you should manage at least 2.0 per mille. Because your transformation will take place in parallel with your blood alcohol level. Linear, until you have reached 2.0 per mille. At 2.0 per mille, the transformation is complete.

It's around 8 p.m. when your buddy finally comes in the door. Like you said: a beast of a man. The fist bump he gives you almost breaks your forearm bones. Beast of a man? You're miles or 2.0 per mille away from that. You are cute. But a twink. Not a man.

The regulars know what to expect. They chant "Booze! Booze! Booze!" One of them shouts that you're in desperate need of a protein shot. The others roar. Your buddy orders 20 cans of beer. He shouts to his colleagues that there will definitely be some left for them. He looks at you, winks and licks his lips. He has no idea.

The first can of beer. It really hits you. 0.3 per mille. One seventh of your way gone in one go. You feel a bit dizzy. You've been king of the highway for two years now. Well, maybe prince of the highway. You haven't put much weight on your ribs yet. But the good food at the truck stops and the hard work loading your truck are already having a bit of an effect. Your arms are no longer as thin as twigs.

The second beer. It didn't go quite so quickly. You have to burp loudly. Your buddy follows your example. 0.56 per mille. You've been driving your 7.5-ton baby through the countryside for over three and a half years. Does you good. Not as skinny as you used to be. You look healthy. Maybe a little red in the face. Drunk.

After the third beer you have over 0.8 per mille. Another burp. You need a piss. You stand with your legs apart in front of the urinal to avoid peeing on your boots. You take out your cheesy beauty from your dirty jockstraps. And empty your bulging bladder. Wash your hands? That's for twinks. You simply wipe your hands on your dirty Wranglers.

Janet brings you some onion rings with your beer. Good idea. After the toilet break, you finish your fourth beer almost in one go. Your buddy has noticeable problems. Your blood alcohol level is over 1.0 per mille. This competition between you and your colleague has been going on for about seven years. In the trucker scene, your competitions are small highlights. As soon as it is clear when and where you will next get drunk under the table and then disappear to the stalls, new routes are planned. Service stations know that you'll bring in good sales and are keen to host the competition. There used to be a lot of betting on winning and losing. Your buddy has been unbeaten for seven years. There's not much betting anymore. The odds on you winning are huge. But nobody expects that anyway.

The next beer. At 1.26 per mille, you start to falter. Your buddy weighs a few more kilograms than your 100. Maybe you're already a little over 100 - you broke that magic barrier a few weeks ago on your 30th birthday. Eat, work hard and lift iron in the evening. That shapes your body. And beer. Lots of beer. To the delight of the audience, you interrupt your drinking contest for a short burping contest. The landlord actually has a device to measure the volume. You lose. That's clear. You lack the resonance body…

The next beer is a big miss for both you and your buddy. Your dirty tank tops are now wet from the beer. But that was a quick round of drinking, so it happens. You feel a bit dizzy. Your buddy is already looking extremely glassy-eyed. A murmur goes round the room. Should you really stand a chance?

After the seventh beer, you both have to go for a piss. Shit, why are you doing this to yourselves? So that one of you can blow the other? You do that as often as you can see each other anyway. And luckily your paths cross from time to time. "Dude, has your beast grown?" slurs your buddy as you stand swaying in front of the urinals and can no longer aim and hit the target very well. "You bet your life, get ready for a lot, bro," you slur back. "And now give me a kiss, I can't wait any longer."

You're too drunk to remember to turn your caps backwards. You push his cap off his head and it falls into a puddle of urine. Damn, it's seen worse. You stagger back to your beer cans. After the eighth beer, your first goal is achieved. 2.0 per mille blood alcohol. Spread over a proud 120 kilograms of your 35-year-old body. A passionate trucker for 13 years. Your 36-ton beast is basically your home and your family. Hehehe, there are a few other people in the family too. Mike here next to you, for example. You rip open the ninth can and empty it almost at record speed. Shit, you're going to be sick. Mike opens the can, takes a sip. And stumbles towards the toilet. He can't reach the toilet bowl. But at least he throws up in the sink.

When he comes back, he looks at you with glazed eyes. He falls to his knees in front of you to the loud roar of the audience and tries to open your trousers with his drunken head. You have to laugh. "Not here, not now, Buddie" You pull him up. Let him sober up a bit first. You should both enjoy the moment when he sucks you off for the first time!

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #tank top #age progression #redneck tf #twink to jock #ai image

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lazycats-stuff · 9 months

Note

Hello, hope you'er having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request the 141 team x male reader who gets mald by a strange large dog, at first they wonder if the dog had rabies but it was perfect healthy, but yet reader get extremely sick and there is no explanation.

When reader recovers he has super human strength and speed, and gets irritated faster which is unusual.

All the sudden change causing anxiety that he might he hurt someone or worst. (Reader turning into a werewolf)

You sure can! Alrighty, lets go! I'm pumped today for some reason... Also, sorry for taking this long 😣😣😣, also (C/S) = call sign

Summary: (Y/N) got bit by a dog on a mission. Everything was fine until he got extremely ill.

Warnings: military inaccuracies, flu, seizures, shifting, werewolf, characters are probably OOC

Also, is it just me or is Barry Sloane extremely hot?

(Y/N) leaned his head back as they were driving to their target's location. The mission was capture or kill, as Ghost had before they had all left. Unfortunately, their target location was in the woods, which made (Y/N) rather... Jumpy. He was never fond of the woods and the fact that it was so far into the woods was not good for (Y/N).

" Alright, listen up! " Price started, attracting attention from his squad. " We have already separated into teams. (Y/N) and Gaz, you are with Ghost and Soap is with me. We have our back up and since the house is separated into two part, each team will cover one. " Price finished, gripping his rifle.

Ghost looked at the youngest member of the task force. (Y/N) (L/N), also known as (C/S). Ghost tolerated him, but never gave him mercy on the mat. He was always tough on him, but (Y/N) didn't mind.

" Nervous? " Ghost asked (Y/N), making the youngest turn his head.

" I'm not a fan of woods that's all. " (Y/N) gave Ghost a short explanation. Ghost didn't say anything, he simply got up when the truck stopped.

(Y/N) took a quiet breath in and got up too. (Y/N) followed Ghost and with the rest of the back up they started moving quietly towards the houses. They parked far enough so that they won't be heard.

Both teams moved quietly and by some sort of luck, (Y/N)'s team got the house that was a bit further in the woods. Bastards. (Y/N) sighed as he moved quietly behind Ghost.

" Scared (C/S)? " Ghost teased.

" In your dreams lieutenant. " (Y/N) bit back.

Ghost didn't respond as he kicked the door in, entering quietly and swiftly. Everyone aimed the rifles and spread out through the ground floor. It was very rich house and (Y/N) felt a ping of jealousy. When he was younger, he wanted live in such a house. But not in the woods.

Ghost took down a man and (Y/N) progressed more into the house. He saw the kitchen that was leading to the terrace and he went to check it out. He slid the glass door open and he stepped out into the cold air. He cleared the deck, but stopped when he heard rustling.

He took a deep breath, steadying his hands. He needs to check it out, it could be the enemy, but also it could be an animal ready to maul him.

(Y/N) doesn't get paid enough for this at all. He went down the stairs, putting on his night vision goggles. He listened for the rustling sound before he heard a growl.

He had no time to even turn around, before he felt a something bite him. It attacked him from behind him, biting down head on his leg. (Y/N) let out a grunt as he fell down, face first onto the ground. He tried to turn around, but the thing was heavy and unrelenting.

(Y/N) tried to kick it with it's free leg, but he couldn't aim. A gunshot rang out and the thing whimpered and ran off. (Y/N) looked up, seeing Gaz at the window. (Y/N) let out a sigh of relief as he tried to get up. His leg was killing him and he limped back to the sliding glass doors. He was cursing and Gaz ran down the stairs to meet him.

" (C/S), what's wrong? " Gaz asked worried.

" Something bit me. I think a wolf or something. "

" What were you doing there anyway? " Gaz asked, crouching to see the bite.

" There is a terrace and it leads to backyard. I wanted to make sure that everything was clear there. " (Y/N) said as Gaz stood up.

" We need to get to you to a hospital. Come on. " Gaz said, helping (Y/N) walk.

" I hate life. " (Y/N) said as Gaz called it in. Ghost came down, looking at (Y/N)'s leg.

" You alright private? "

" Oh, I'm peachy sir, my leg burns and I might have rabies. " (Y/N) answered sarcastically. " Did you at least have any luck? "

" Not here, but Price had. We got him. "

(Y/N) smiled, happy that they got him. " Thank God. I would have killed someone if we had to look for him. "

(Y/N) hissed a bit as he was sat down. " We will get you to medical in no time. " Gaz reassured (Y/N), who didn't share the same sentiment.

" Yay. I'm taking a leave after this mission. But you know, chicks dig scars. Guys too... "

Gaz snorted as he took the first aid kit. He stopped the bleeding with the gauzed and (Y/N) now realized how this bite was painful.

" I think that my adrenalin is stopping, this bite hurts like a bitch. " (Y/N) said, watching as Gaz poured some alcohol on a clean gauze.

" Get ready, this is going to burn. "

" It can't get any worse than this. "

(Y/N) was in fact, wrong on every aspect of that. When he was shipped off to the medical he was tested for rabies and other stuff that the wolf might have. Thankfully, he didn't get rabies or anything else for that matter.

But what baffled everyone was how sick (Y/N) had gotten. It wasn't a normal flu that hits you out of nowhere and knocks you back on your ass, but something much more severe.

His temperature was way higher than it should be, he was paler then the walls in the medical wing of the base, he was unconscious and worst of all, despite having a high fever, he was cold to the touch.

To Price, he looked like a corpse and that scared him more than anything. He was living and yet he was looking like an actual corpse. Even Ghost was disturbed, although he won't show it outwardly.

And it took a lot to disturb Ghost. That man has see a lot of stuff.

Soap and Gaz were just terrified. They saw (Y/N) while he was sleeping and if it weren't for the monitor, Gaz and Soap would have thought that (Y/N) had died from the bite.

Price was baffled by just what has caused this. The doctors were even more baffled. Nobody had a definitive answer for Price however. Some say stress, some say something else... Needless to say, Price was going to lose his mind.

It was a sad sight to see. A young private, so full of life and sarcasm, the one who didn't show mercy on the mat and the one who was a great sniper. And the one who gave Price the most gray hairs.

Price was sitting down on a chair next to (Y/N)'s bed. He was under a lot of medication and he was hooked to a lot tubes. Price was finishing up some reports. He could have done it in his office, but he didn't want to leave his private alone.

He listened to the heart monitors as he filed out some forms. Ghost was doing some work with the recruits. Ghost and Soap were somewhere on the base and considering that soon there would be a time for lunch, they were probably going to cafeteria.

Soap and Gaz had a really fast metabolism and Price was always shocked by it. Either way, one of them was going to take the shift of watching (Y/N).

Price sighed as he closed up the folder. He put it on the nightstand, watching the now sleeping private. It has been a week since (Y/N) was sick and there were no signs of improvement. Price was afraid of what was going to happen if he doesn't wake up soon.

" Price? " A very croaky voice said, nearly giving Price a heart attack.

" (Y/N)? Hang on, I have to get the doctor. " Price said, standing up, leaving the room.

Once the doctor was done with making sure that everything was fine, the 141 task force was allowed in. (Y/N) was laying down, Gaz feeding him some jello.

" So, the doctor says you are going to be fine. " Price said, sitting down on a chair next to Gaz.

" That's good. " (Y/N) rasped out, making Price sigh.

" Don't talk please. Drink some water. Also, Alejandro and Rudy called. They wish you a speedy recovery. "

(Y/N) just put a thumb up and opened his mouth to eat the jello from Gaz.

" And I have great news. You don't have any rabies. " Price said, making (Y/N) raise his hands weakly up and down, as if he was partying.

" You should get discharged soon too. "

Another thumbs up from (Y/N).

(Y/N) thought that he was going to get better and everything would be back to normal.

Nothing was normal.

(Y/N) soon realized how this... 'flu' changed everything. (Y/N) was faster. That shouldn't be a bad thing right? Well, it is if you were never so fast in the first place. And if it broke every single human record there was in the base.

Soap was very excited about it, but (Y/N) was lowkey terrified. Price said that he was going to test him with some regular tests. Price was shocked too when the times were amazing and (Y/N) didn't even break the sweat. Price thought he was going insane.

The next thing that freaked (Y/N) out was the fact that he was way more stronger than usual. How? Soap challenged (Y/N) to lift Ghost's weights and the weight that he lifts. And everyone knew that Ghost is a big man, with even bigger muscles.

(Y/N) was doing this just for fun and Ghost agreed to spot him just in case something goes wrong. Ghost paled when he saw how (Y/N) easily lifted the weight that made many brake.

And he didn't even struggle. (Y/N) was more leaning, there wasn't any defined muscles. Ghost watched in sheer horror as (Y/N) lifted them with ease. What in the actual hell?

After a few moments, (Y/N) was done.

Ghost thought that he was insane. Soap was on the verge of passing out. Gaz's mouth fell down to the floor. What the hell?

The third thing that made him wonder was the fact that he got super irritated. Soap could say anything or Gaz, even Ghost could set him off.

Price and the others knew that he can sometimes be sarcastic, but he could keep his composure. This new temper was something that baffled the task force. He never really exploded at them like that.

(Y/N) noticed these changes and just isolated. He stayed in his room and wondered what the hell happened. He was never that strong and he was never that fast and more importantly he was never this explosive when it came to his teammates.

Never.

He avoided them like a plague, refusing to be anywhere near them. He still wasn't cleared for any missions until the doctors get to the root of the problem.

The core four wanted to get to the root of the problem of his evasion. So, time to get him out of hiding. Ghost and the others barged into the room, making (Y/N) jostle.

" What the hell?! " (Y/N) yelled out.

" (Y/N), we want to know why you were avoiding us. " Price said sternly.

" I'm most definitely not doing this. At all. " (Y/N) said, ducking out of the room and walking away from his teammates. It was late and the base was deserted so to speak.

" Private! " (Y/N) heard behind him and he sped up. He walked blindly and was shocked when he got outside. It was slightly cold and he shivered slightly.

" Okay private! Please explain yourself for avoiding us. " Price said, the other 3 behind him.

(Y/N) has never felt anxiety like this. It felt like he couldn't breath and there was something else that he couldn't pinpoint it. Price was saying something, but (Y/N) couldn't even comprehend it. All of a sudden, he felt like something was trying to come out.

And something did come out.

The four members watched as (Y/N) turned into a werewolf. They saw a huge werewolf, black as night and with those (E/C), the same eyes that (Y/N) had.

The big wolf whined, shaking. Price took charge and stepped closer. He put his hands up and called him by his name. The wolf listened and Price offered him his hands to sniff.

" Relax soldier. We are going to help you. Now, can you try and switch back? "

The wolf whined in protest and Price assumed that he was too confused to do shift back.

" Whose room is the nearest? "Price asked the rest, who were silent.

" Mine. " Ghost said. Price nodded and turned back to face the wolf.

" (Y/N), you are going to be with Ghost for the night. I don't want anyone seeing you in wolf form. " Price explained, watching as (Y/N) padded over quietly to Ghost. Ghost actually petted him and (Y/N) followed him.

Everyone piled in Ghost's room and (Y/N) jumped on the bed, laying down. Ghost huffed at that, but knew that arguing wouldn't do anything.

" We will meet here in the morning. If he doesn't shift in the morning, we are going to keep him here. "

Everyone nodded and Ghost sat down on the bed. " Now, we are going to leave you two to rest. Good night. " Price said, ushering the other two out. Gaz and Soap said good night and Ghost looked at the big wolf.

" You will need to move a bit. "

(Y/N) shifted on a bed and Ghost laid down. He turned of the lights and said good night to the wolf that just nuzzled his nose closer to Ghost's chest.

#mw2 #cod mwii #ghost x male reader #john price x male reader #gaz x male reader #modern warfare #141 #platonic relationships

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mudisgranapat · 2 months

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FitnessInfluencer!Reader x GymBro!Ghost

so i’ve recently really gotten into going to the gym and i can’t stop thinking about Ghost working out and reader being an annoying influencer that is always recording at the gym. the last thing he needs is a camera in his face when he is trying to work out and de-compress from his deployment.

After finally finding a 24 hour gym, you get your things ready to film your content. Your youtube channel is one of the most popular nowadays, and it’s the platform where you make most of your videos. Most of them teach people workout series, ranging from stuff they can do at home, hardcore exercises and even a step to step guide on how to use each gym equipment, so newbies don’t get scared of training for the first time by themselves. However, sometimes, you do some vlogging on the side, showing your daily routine and other things, like skincare.

You figure 3 am is a good time to go to the gym and record - no one is at training by then and your schedule is already fucked anyways. Not having an office or regular work hours has its ups and downs, but at least you are in charge of own routine, since you make a surprisingly good amount of money from your videos.

You take your own time, making a protein smoothie (and obvioulsy recording it, as you had a paid partnership with the supplement’s brand) and writing down your ideas for the video you want to do today. You stick to a simple “leg day” vlog, typing on your phone what machines and reps you want to do.

Choosing a simple purple top and matching leggings, you make your way towards the gym on your Range Rover, Stanley cup filled with water on the cup holder. You roll your eyes as you make a turn and can feel the water dripping out of the cup. You make a note to yourself to bring a water bottle the actually works next time and keep it off camera, so the useless cup can just sit on frame for aesthetic purposes while your record.

If you had to point out one thing you hated about your job, it would be having to keep up with all the (in your opinion, useless) trends, so you could reach a bigger audience. At the end of the day, it was about making money, although you loved how your content got to inspire people to be more active. If it meant you had to carry a metal 40oz lead poisoned cup with you for a couple of hours, then so be it.

As soon as you park your car at the gym’s empty parking lot, you pull out your vlog camera, not noticing the single black truck parked in the far corner, under a tree.

Sometimes you wonder if you would hate your “vlog persona” if you met her in real life. Repeating the same phrases over and over again, trying to get the best take, constantly looking for better lighting. What looks good on camera, in real life, just looks painfully awkward sometimes, specially when you are talking to an audience that isn’t even there. You push those thoughts to the back of your head, as you slide your card at the gym’s card reader, opening the doors.

“Anyways, guys. I know it sounds crazy right?” You make your way into the gym, re-recording the introduction at least 3 times so you know you’ll have good material to edit later. “Training at 3 a.m. I don’t even know if it’s technically morning or night right now.” You joke to the camera. “Let me know in the comments if I should start the videos with ‘Good morning’ or ‘Goodni’-“ a hand suddenly grabs the camera from your hand, holding it right above your head. You stare at the man who seemed to materialise out of the shadows.

“How about ‘Goodbye’.” He says, and you barely have time to register his sarcasm as he slams your camera on the floor, breaking it in pieces. You stand there, frozen, while the man swings his duffel bag over his shoulders and heads out of the gym.

When you finally regain your senses, he is long gone, and you’re left wondering to yourself, not only who he is, but also who does he think he is. You barely had time to register what he looked like, simply recalling we was well over 6ft tall and build like a fucking tank. But regardless of his built, if he believes, even for a second, that he can do something like that and just walk away unscathed, he is dead wrong.

You can’t wait to see him again.

A.N: wrote this with my eyes literally closing, but i just couldn’t get it out of my head (sorry for any mistakes, def not proofread). hopefully it’s not complete shit. let me know if you want to see more of this! i could see this becoming either a short series or at least having one more part. Let me know if you want to be tagged if this has a part 2 :)

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley made me lose my sleep and now i will make him suffer by writing angst #simon riley imagine #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader

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companionjones · 11 months

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Notice

Pairing: Beck Oliver x Afab!Reader

Fandom: Victorious (Nickelodeon)

Summary: You’re poorer than the average student at Hollywood Arts. Beck Oliver takes notice.

Warnings: Cursing, Smut

*******

Beck always noticed you. He noticed that whenever an extra-curricular activity required out-of-pocket spending, you opted out. He noticed you only had three t-shirts that you switched out with the same pair of jeans every day. He especially noticed those dark circles under your eyes that never seemed to go away.

He decided to do something about it one day while everyone was finishing up their lunches and heading back to class. Beck pulled you aside. “Hey,” he started.

“Hey.”

Beck asked, “Do you want to hang out after school today?”

The question wasn’t completely out of left field. You and Beck would hang out all the time. Only at his trailer, though. Beck had never been to your place.

“Sure,” you answered him with a smile.

He nodded. “Great. Maybe we could go to the mall or something?”

You hesitated. “Uh...Sorry, I can’t. I’m, um, a little low on funds at the moment. Maybe some other ti--”

Beck was quick to offer, “Don’t worry, I got you covered.”

You shook your head. “No, Beck. I don’t want to worry about paying you back--”

“Don’t worry about that either, okay? Just come to the mall, and have a good time.”

You and Beck stared at each other for a moment while you bit your lip, deliberating. “Okay,” you finally replied. “Now, come on. We’re going to be late for History.”

After school that day, Beck drove you to the mall. You guys were there for hours. Despite how long you were there for you, you only got two more t-shirts, and two more pairs of jeans. Beck had to practically beg to buy them for you, too. He didn’t mind. Any time Beck spent with you was fun, no matter what you were doing.

You two left about an hour before the mall closed.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home? It’s getting late,” Beck pointed out, concerned.

“I know,” you shrugged, “But my house isn’t that far from here, and I like walking anyway, so...Thank you.”

“No problem.” Beck thought that was the end of it, so he started meandering back to his car.

“I mean it, Beck.”

He heard that you were walking back up to him, so Beck turned around.

You leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” you told him again before walking off in your own direction.

Beck didn’t feel great about what he did next. Was it considered stalking if you truly cared about the person and were just making sure they were okay? Probably. Beck followed you to a more run-down part of town. He saw you go into an old, abandoned shop with boarded up windows.

Beck slammed his truck into park, hopped out, and ran in after you.

“Y/n?”

He saw that you nearly jumped out of your skinned when you heard him. “Beck?! What the hell are you doing here?”

He turned the question back onto you. “What the hell are you doing here? Y/n, is this where you live?”

“No...” You were obviously lying.

“Y/n!” Beck pushed.

“Okay! I’m sorry. Yes, I live here,” you confirmed. “My parents ditched me a while back, and I didn’t want to go into the foster system, so...” You gestured around you.

Beck took a few steps forward. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want you to think I was this poor, dirty kid who’s only good for anything because they got a scholarship to Hollywood Arts,” you answered, tears forming in your eyes.

Beck took your hand. “Hey, I could never think that. You’re such a good person, Y/n...Come stay with me.” Beck didn’t know he was going to say that, but he stood by it.

“What? No. I can’t ask you to--”

“Then at least stay with me tonight,” begged Beck, “I can’t stand the thought of leaving you here.”

The tears began to roll down your cheeks as you started to sob. You took the one step necessary to hug Beck.

He gladly took you in his arms.

So, you packed a bag and headed to Beck’s trailer for the night.

When you got there, you stood awkwardly in the corner while Beck made the bed for you. He then started to put a couple blankets and pillows on the floor for himself.

“Beck, I’m not going to take your bed from you,” you insisted.

After a little bit of arguing, you and Beck settled into bed together. He turned the lights out.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this for me,” you pressed.

He said these next words like they were nothing. “It’s not a problem. I’d do anything for you.”

“Why?” you whispered.

Beck thought a moment before responding, “Isn’t it obvious?” He was sure you could hear his heart, it was beating so loud.

Suddenly, you were leaning in.

Before Beck could even think, your lips were on his.

Beck slowly moved his lips with yours. He put a hand on your cheek, and one of your hands ended up in his hair. He moaned. He found he loved it when you played with his hair.

Things were getting more heated. Beck rolled on top of you without even realizing it.

Then, you reached down to tug on the waist band of his shorts, and Beck was sure he felt all the blood in his body rush to his dick.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.” Beck grabbed both your hands and dragged them up to where he could see them. “Are you sure about this?” he asked you.

“Yes. Come on. I want you inside me.” You pulled Beck in for another kiss.

He moaned at your words, and this kiss. Beck then helped you take off your own shirt before taking off his own. The two of you then kicked off your pants and underwear to get yourselves completely naked for each other.

“Oh, fuck. You’re so wet,” Beck cursed, coating his cock in your juices. “Are you ready?”

“Please baby.” You were gazing at him through half-lidded eyes.

Beck almost chocked on his own spit after hearing you say that to him. He pushed inside you, moaning with you as he went. Beck had to look away from you because he swore if he was looking at you while you were making him feel that good, he would’ve cum then and there.

Once he had sunk all the way into you, Beck started to pull out and thrust back in. This began a whole new series of moans from both you and him.

Beck had his hands planted on either side of your head, and your head was tossed back as you moaned each time he entered you.

Suddenly, you grabbed onto his hips. “Beck...!”

“I know, I’m close too,” he assured you before speeding up his thrusts.

Your moans only increased in pitch each time Beck moved, until finally, you shouted as you reached your climax.

With you tightening around him, Beck only needed a couple more thrusts before he was cumming right along with you.

After, Beck collapsed next to you, and the two of you caught your breaths among your tangled limbs.

Beck turned his nose into your cheek. “Stay with me.” It was clear he meant longer than that night.

You nodded, “Okay,” then turned to face him, only to capture his lips again.

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

#beck #beck x reader #beck oliver #beck oliver x reader #victorious #victorious nickelodeon #avan jogia #companion jones #notice #tw cursing #cursing #tw smut #smut #beck oliver smut #beck oliver x reader smut #just started listening to welcome to nightvale #just finished episode 3 #?!

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resinfish · 11 months

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Louisville Doll Theft Update

So I posted a couple weeks back about my friend whose landlord stole his doll collection, and I have good news and bad news.

The good news is we were able to track down one of the trucks. The bad news is that it belonged to a charity donation pickup that just ended up with their clothes and furniture after everything else had been taken by the "cleaners."

After calling all the cleaners and junk haulers in the area, we've narrowed it down to two, the first admitted to working with Barrett Goff/Allodium in the past but acted a little squirrely when I mentioned stolen property and said they hadn't been on that side of town that week, but the guy was otherwise sweet and cooperative, and said company policy is to donate anything not broken. The second admitted they let their employees just grab and take whatever, then got an attitude and said they "couldn't confirm or deny involvement," and told us to come back with a warrant. They're the only ones out of the internet's entire trove of KY Louisville area junk haulers that refused to give answers, which is pretty sus.

(Who, in the course of a normal conversation, says stuff like "can neither confirm nor deny involvement"? Not sure if these guys are guilty or just extra...)

Anyway, with nothing turning up on online resale platforms, the next stop is flea markets. As they're working extra gigs to save for a new place (and a lawyer), I'm hoping to save them a PI fee by organizing a sweep with people in the area, to run through local flea markets and see if anyone's trying to sell a massive doll collection. They already can't afford HRT anymore, if they have to pay a pi and a lawyer, getting justice will get prohibitively expensive both financially and personally

If you are local to the Louisville KY area, even if you're not in the hobby, please dm me and I'll go over the ones we haven't eliminated by phone yet. They've been advised to get a private investigator, but they really don't have that kind of money lying around after being robbed and left homeless. If I can get enough Baker Street Irregulars together to help, we can let them use their savings for a lawyer.

Again, the collection is made up of mostly Ringdoll, DIM, ResinSoul/Bobobie, and some Soom. Also among the more distinctive dolls we're trying to recover are Custom House Saint Mina and LE Sad Mina, an Island Doll Shukaku ver. 2 fullset, and a secondhand Volks free choice girl with goth vampire faceup and antique-looking dress.

If anyone knows attorneys who take cases for cheap or pro bono, please contact me so I can refer them. They've applied to the ACLU, but with the organization's workload these days, it's kind of a crapshoot.

If you can't volunteer and want to help, you can donate at:

Cashapp: $hyperionasshole and his new PP @memeharrington

Because posts with images get more traffic, here is me and my friend on my annual bluebonnet day, and our dolls (the blondes--RS Dai and 1st gen BBB Apollo--are his, and probably still wearing these outfits):

#bjd #abjd #ball jointed doll #help #ball-jointed doll #bjd help #stolen bjd #resinsoul #bobobie #discrimination #hate crime #louisville ky #bjd help wanted #doll theft #ringdoll #custom house #saint mina

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entitled-fangirl · 2 months

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Two idiots in love. (P4)

Joel Miller x anemic!reader

Summary: Joel and the reader continue to navigate their feelings for each other, but it starts to become more and more clear as time progresses.

Warning: blood, guns, death, cursing

Masterlist

Parts 1, 2, 3, 5

..................................................................

Ellie walked out of the building to join Joel and Y/N.

Joel was knelt down by a car, his hands prying at the gas cap. Y/N was leaning against said car, and the two seemed to be arguing.

"Joel, please. I can help you sometimes…"

"No. You don't need to be doing any of this stuff. Bad for you."

Siphoning another car.

Ellie sighed as she neared, "We have to do this every hour?"

The two peaked their heads up at her.

Joel calmly explained, "Gas breaks down over time. This stuff's almost water. Back in the day, we'd drive, 10, 12 hours on one tank. You could go anywhere."

She nodded, "So where'd you go?"

Joel looked up at her again, finally rigging up the tubing. "Pretty much nowhere." And he brought the tube to his mouth.

He blew into one tube, making gas come out of the other and into their small fuel tank.

Ellie smiled, "Nice! How does that work?"

He tilted his head back and forth, "It's a siphon."

Ellie looked confused, and Joel realized he needed to dumb it down a bit.

Y/N smiled as well. Joel was such a patient man.

"It's when liquid travels against gravity," he looked a bit confused, "…because pressure…"

"You don't know."

Joel became defensive, "I know it works."

Ellie turned away, walking towards another car.

Joel reprimanded, "No wandering."

The girl sighed, "Okay." And set on the hood of the closest car. "This is your fault then."

Y/N laughed as Ellie pulled her joke book out of her bag, watching Joel become more annoyed at each joke.

…

"Alright. I think that's enough for today."

Joel turned the truck off the road and into the forest.

Y/N got out carefully, and moved to the bed of the truck to get the small camping grill Bill had left them.

Joel stopped her, "I'll get it, sweetheart."

He set it on the ground where they would make their camp.

She smiled, "Well, you get us unpacked, and I'll make dinner?"

He considered her proposal, "Alright."

…

The two adults watched Ellie eat her food with an animalistic speed.

"Slow down," Joel reprimanded.

"This IS slow."

Y/N smiled with a small chuckle.

Ellie finally slowed down, "What am I even eating?"

Y/N finally spoke up, "That is 20 year old Chef Boyardee ravioli."

"Well, that guy was GOOD."

Joel grimaced, "I actually agree."

The silence ensued until Ellie spoke up, "Can we start a fire though? I'm freezing."

"Now, why am I gonna tell you no?"

"Because infected will see the smoke…"

Y/N spoke up again, her plate untouched, "…no. That's not it at all…"

Joel nodded, "Fungus isn't that smart. This is too remote for Infected anyway."

Ellie gulped slightly, "…People?"

Joel just gave a look, but it was enough to tell her she was right.

"So, what are they gonna do? Rob us?" Ellie scoffed.

Joel stared down at his food, "No. They'll have way more in mind than that." He glanced over, seeing Y/N's untouched plate, "Eat."

She sighed slightly, "I… I'm not that hungry."

He straightened his shoulders, his voice becoming demanding, "Eat, Y/N."

She shook her head. She didn't mean to be defiant, but she couldn't bare to eat food at the moment.

Joel set his plate down. She knew his tone well. He was angry, but trying to mask it for her. "Sweet girl…"

But she stopped before he could continue, "Joel, really. Please don't push it."

He stared at her for a while before nodding, going back to his food.

…

Joel and Y/N woke up early, under the same covers as they always did. Joel began to pack up as Y/N offered to start a small pot of coffee.

Joel took the offer, running a hand over Y/N's messy hair. He took note of her puffy eyes from sleep and the sweet smile that she wore.

He wished he could hold that picture forever.

They began their duties, as made quiet small talk to avoid waking Ellie. "Joel..?"

Joel turned to look at Y/N over his shoulder, "..Yeah?"

"Somedays I wish I had your accent…"

Joel actually smirked at the woman. God, she was a treasure. "My accent?"

"Yeah. You have this accent. I don't know. I like it, I guess."

He nodded, unsure of what to say.

So, she continued, "I think I just like your voice. It's… soothing. I don't think the accent would sound as nice with me."

Joel just let her talk. She hadn't spoken this much since Bill and Frank's.

"…I wish I could've met you before all of this…"

This made the man stop packing. "…what?"

"I.. well… you know? What you were like and… what you did, what you wore, how you talked. What you were like with your daughter…."

Joel was unmoving. He was thankful his back was to her, or she would've seen the expression on his face.

"…Can't I be a little curious?"

He sighed. Of course, she could be. He would tell her anything in the world her heart desired if she asked.

Finally, he spoke. It was slow and calculated, "You can be."

"Do you think we would've been friends? Our old selves?"

This woman would be Joel's end. And he would love her for it.

He finally turned to look at her. She sat on the ground next to the pot of coffee. Her big eyes staring back up at his in concern for his answer.

He sat in the silence for a moment as he thought of what to say. He settled on, "…you wouldn't have liked me." And he moved back to the truck to pack.

She tilted her head, "You don't know that."

He spoke over his shoulder, "I do. And I don't even know why you're around me now, if I'm being honest."

She misinterpreted him, her eyes saddening, "Well… do… Do you not want me here?"

Joel immediately turned around with wide eyes and slight panic. His voice hardened, "That's not what I said. And don't say that ever again."

She was thrown off by his sudden defense. It confused her, "…but you said.."

"You're not leaving. I won't let that happen."

A nod and a confused look was all Joel got from the woman in front of him.

She stood up, walking her bag to the truck. She stood next to Joel, and placed the bag in the bed.

They said nothing. They weren't sure if there was anything to say.

Joel finally sighed, turning to her. He reached up with one hand, placing it on the bag of her head, letting his fingers play with the strands of hair, "Listen, sweet girl. I only meant-"

"What the fuck is that?"

Ellie interrupted the two.

Joel sighed as he dropped his hand and looked over to Ellie, "You don't like coffee?"

Y/N sighed at the lost moment, her shoulders slumping.

…

Ellie woke up in the backseat as Y/N muttered road names under her breath to Joel as she stared at a road map. Joel would only nod or hum lightly at the names.

Ellie thought it was strange, their little secret language to each other.

But she only opened her eyes when she felt the truck stop.

They were at the outskirts of an abandoned city.

And the underpass needed to keep driving was blocked by a semi truck that had crashed.

"Stay put." Joel muttered as he got out with his gun to investigate.

Ellie took this time to get caught up. "Where are we?"

Y/N looked over her shoulder, "Kansas City."

Ellie nodded, "So, you and Joel are..?"

Y/N sighed, "You heard us this morning?"

"Yeah. I think he likes you a lot."

The woman leaned back in her seat. "Doesn't matter, Ellie. You shouldn't get too attached to people. They always die."

"But Joel-"

"-I said, it doesn't matter." Her voice grew pleading, "Don't get too attached to us, Ellie."

The girl knew she didn't really mean that.

Joel got back into the truck, his hand reaching out for the map in Y/N's hands.

Ellie noticed the way their fingers grazed each others. "So how far back do we have to go?"

Joel stared at the map, tracing potential roads until he sighed. He gently set the map down in Y/n's lap. "Screw it."

He turned the truck around, driving through the city to get back on the highway.

But half way through, he cursed under his breath, "Where the fuck is the highway?"

Y/N hummed, "I'm turned around now. Just… give me a second."

Joel spoke up, "Don't look at the state map, hon. Look at the inset."

"Either way, I'll still be confused."

She spoke under her breath, trying to figure it out.

Joel turned, "It's gotta be the right…"

"STOP!"

Joel hit the brakes at Ellie's plea.

A man was in front of the truck, holding his side, "Please! Help me!"

Y/N's head perked up at the cry, "Joel…?"

"Put your damn seatbelt on."

Ellie stared at the man, "Aren't we gonna help him?"

"No."

And Joel hit the gas, making the man jump out of the way.

Y/N noticed the person on the roof of the next building, their feet kicking at a barrel.

And it fell towards the truck.

"JOEL!"

Joel tried to swerve, but couldn't avoid it.

It hit the windshield.

It made Joel blind to the row of nails that now pierced the tires.

The truck swerved, crashing into a building harshly.

Joel immediately reached out for Y/N, his hand on the back of her head like earlier, but in a more panicked state, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"You're not hurt or nothin?"

"… I don't know…"

When Joel pulled his hand away from her head, it came back slightly red with blood.

"Shit."

Y/N noticed the blood too, looking at Joel with a worried expression.

He wanted to comfort her, but the bullets that pierced the truck reminded him of the situation.

"Belts off. Get out."

Ellie and Y/N got out on the passenger side, blocking themselves from the bullets.

Joel followed suit.

He reached into the backseat through the window, grabbing his gun.

He turned to the girls, "You see that hole over there?"

They looked over to the hole in the wall.

"Can you squeeze through?"

Y/N only stared.

"When I say go, you crawl to that wall, and you squeeze through and you don't come out until I say, okay?"

A bullet broke one of the windows.

"And they're not gonna hit you."

Joel noticed Y/N's wandering gaze. He wanted to be soft, but he was too panicked to go so. "LOOK AT ME!"

She did.

"They're not gonna hit you. Take Ellie with you."

She stopped, "but I can't leave you."

He took her jaw in one hand, "You sweet, sweet girl. I'm gonna be fine. Let me worry about you. Stay down, stay low, and you stay quiet."

She knew not to argue.

"Alright. Go."

And with that, the two girls crawled to the hole in the wall with determination. Joel peaked over the top of the truck bed to shoot back.

He made sure the two got through.

He shot one easily, but another man was still out there. And judging by his taunts, he was enraged.

Silence.

Ellie and Y/N only stared at each other with wide eyes. Unsure of Joel's safety.

A gunshot.

Y/N couldn't help it. She just barely peeked out from the hole to check.

Joel stood tall, the end of his gun smoking just slightly.

He reached down to reload.

And it was jammed.

The door opened and a young man stepped out, ready to fight.

Joel was too.

Y/n heard the sound of rustling and the occasional grunt from a hit.

She wasn't sure who was winning.

But she was going to make sure it was Joel.

She stepped out while the man had his back to her.

Joel noticed and his eyes widened.

When the man saw Joel's gaze, he followed it. To which Y/N threw a heavy punch to the man's face.

The man was thrown off but not for long enough.

He reached forward, grabbing Y/N by her hair and pulling her to him.

Joel took that as an advantage and wrapped his hand around the man's neck, the other over his head, ready to snap his neck. He growled in the man's ear, "Don't fucking touch her."

Though the man was the only one with the gun, he was at the disadvantage.

Y/N stared into the man's eyes, trying to read his thoughts.

Finally, he muttered, "You're gonna fucking pay, old man."

This angered Joel. He didn't want to just kill the man. He wanted him to pay.

So, he threw the man backwards into the floor, continuing the fight.

Y/N fell to the ground herself, cradling her head in pain. She was already losing blood from earlier, and she was beginning to see stars.

So, when Joel was on the ground, being choked by the man, Y/N was of no help.

Ellie stepped out, shooting the man in the leg.

It gave Joel a moment to collect himself and his breath. His eyes immediately flickered between Ellie and Y/N.

The man backed up to the door on the ground.

He was just a boy.

And he began to plead, "NO, no, no it's okay. It's okay. It's over. We're not fighting anymore."

Y/N pushed herself up onto her knees. Her face contorted in pain.

She couldn't help but feel bad.

Especially when he continued, "I'm gonna go home. I'll tell everyone you're good. I… I don't know what to do. My legs don't work."

He started to weep. "My mom isn't far, if you could get me to her."

Joel started to get up.

"Please. We could trade with you guys. We could be friends. I didn't know. I'm Bryan."

Joel approached Ellie was an angry expression, holding his hand out for the gun in her hand.

She sighed and handed it to him.

And Joel took out a knife, turning back to the boy.

The boy began to plead again, "Wait, wait, wait."

Joel turned to Ellie in rage. His voice was low, "Get back behind the wall."

Ellie just stared.

Finally, Y/N spoke up quietly, "…just go."

When Ellie turned to leave, Bryan began pleading loudly, "I'm sorry! Please, no! I'm sorry!"

Y/N turned to Joel once Ellie hid. A tear fell down her face at the sight. Her voice was almost a whisper, "Joel?"

But he wouldn't listen. "Close your eyes."

Joel was an unmovable force. Merciless and cruel. For everyone that stood in his way.

It scared her slightly, watching his eyes turn murderous.

She had killed before, sure. But never had she looked so… bloodthirsty.

Not like he did.

She closed her eyes, listening to the man's cries for his mother until they were silenced.

She didn't dare open her eyes until she felt Joel's breath on her face.

His eyes scanned her carefully. "You okay?"

"No."

Joel's jaw clenched. "Alright. We'll fix this. Let's get you cleaned up, Darlin."

And just like that, the murderous glare was gone, and Joel had returned.

And this Joel was hers.

............................................................

Author's note: I'm gonna make a tag list for any continuing parts I make. Comment if you want on it and I'll add you!

Part 5

#joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #fanfiction #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou #tlou imagine #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal

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specialagentlokitty · 3 months

Text

Negan x reader - trade skill

Hello. I was wondering if you could please do Negan X reader, where Negan is unable to find Lucille and thinks that someone has taken her. So he has people to search every area in Alexandria (I think it is), only to later find out that Y/N took Lucille in order to clean and repair her, and accidentally forgot to notify him. - Anon💜

You didn’t know why a lot of the saviours were taken to Alexandria, you had a thought maybe it had something to do with Rick not doing what he was supposed to be doing.

You weren’t all too sure but you didn’t really have the time to find out either, you were busy with your own project which is why you refused Dwight when he came to get you to go with him.

Was it the smartest choice?

Definitely not, and you knew you were going to get it in the neck from him and most likely Negan after, but you were always in some kind of trouble.

Sitting on your bed, you picked up the pair of wire cutters, carefully getting ready to cut the barbed wire.

You had already caught your arm once, you just tired a bandanna around it and carried on working.

You had to be careful, you didn’t was to break it, and you had to do everything exactly right otherwise you would be more screwed than you were going to be.

Setting the old barbed wire aside on the floor, you picked up the new one and looked at it.

It was a little rusted with the weather, but it was in a lot better condition than the other one.

Wrapping it around like the other was, you nodded to yourself a little.

Setting the bat aside, you got up, grabbing everything you had been using to fix it you shoved it into a box and left the room.

Making your way down to where the workers were, you walked over and set the box down.

“I’ve not used it all so I’m sure someone can get some use out of it.” You said.

The man looked up, nodding her head as she set the box on the floor.

Humming to yourself, you began to browse through the other things that were laid out on the table, looking for something of interest.

Finding nothing, you decided to head outside instead, looking for some part of a fallen tree or a decent sized branch for a new project.

“Hey (Y/N)?”

You looked to one of the other saviours.

“We got problem with the walkers out front, a few got free somehow.”

You sighed, stopped what you were doing and you pulled out your knife, following him to the front where some of the walkers were banging on the fence.

“You said a fucking few, this is a mini horde dumbass.”

He just shrugged and you glared at him.

“Go get the fucking pole idiot.”

He grabbed the pole and you tried to make quick work of clearing the walkers that were building up.

You heard the cars and trucks pulling up and you ignored it, stabbing the final walker in the head, you turned to the man who went to leave.

“Not so fast, you’re waiting here I’ll deal with your ass in a minute.”

Opening the gate, you walked through the bodies, maybe your way to the far end of the fence, slowly looking along it.

For the walkers to get in the gap would have had to be pretty big, so it wasn’t hard to finally find it.

Kneeling down, you carefully inspected the fence and grabbed some zip ties from your jacket to seal it temporarily for now.

Making your way back over you looked at Simon.

“Sort your dumbass out Simon, this fucker hasn’t been checking the fence, there’s a massive hole.”

“You fix things, you sort it.” He said.

“Not my job asshole.”

He stuck his middle finger up at you and you did the same thing, walking over to the doors to head back inside but you stopped by Dwight.

“What was the trip about anyway?”

He glanced at you.

“He’s pissed someone took that stupid bat of his, I’d stay clear.”

You slowly nodded your head and glanced at the leader.

You had three options, either sneak the bat back into his room, leave it somewhere for someone else or come clean.

You didn’t want someone else to take the heat for your actions, and you couldn’t exactly sneak it into his room so with a heavy sigh, you walked over to where he was stood.

“Negan?”

“What?” He snapped.

He turned around and glared at you and you subconsciously took a step back.

“I know where Lucille is…” you mumbled.

“Where?!”

“I uh… could you follow me?”

Negan didn’t say anything as he trailed behind you, and you took his to your room, opening the door and you gestured to the table.

He walked inside, picking up the bat, carefully inspecting it.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing with her?”

He slowly turned around and you stepped inside the room, closing the door so nobody passing by could look in.

“I uh.. I forgot to tell you…”

“What the fuck were you doing with her?” He growled out.

You sighed, heading under your table you pulled out a box and set it down, showing him to contents.

“I noticed that Lucille was breaking, and you left her on the table so I decided to fix her and forgot to tell you.”

“Why?”

You shrugged a little.

“I like fixing things a guess, plus you wouldn’t be Negan without Lucille.”

Negan stared at you and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, but you could feel his eyes practically burning into you.

You couldn’t tell if he was still angry or not, and part of you didn’t want to know.

At least if he wanted to kill you for taking his beloved bat then you wouldn’t see it coming so it would make it easier.

“Look at me.”

You took the box, setting it back under the table and began to inspect a few of your things, just doing anything to avoid looking at him.

“I said look. At. Me.”

You turned around, connecting your eyes with his, he wore a blank expression and you watched as he slowly began to grin.

It was that grin that sent a chill down your spine, the same grin that you knew was the last thing some people saw.

“She looks just as good as the first day I made her, shit (Y/N), if I knew you were so handy I woulda moved you ranks ages ago.”

He put the bat on his shoulder, stuffing a hand in his pocket as he looked at you.

“What do you want? Name me one thing and it’s yours.”

“Anything?”

“Damn straight.”

You went quiet for a moment.

“You got anything else I can fix?”

Negan blinked a little in confusion.

“I just gave you permission to ask for anything, anything you fuckin’ want, anything at all, and you want to fix shit?”

You shrugged a little and he laughed.

“Fucking weird as ball man, but alright. I got a few things for you, you’re to return them directly to me.”

“Yes sir.”

Negan began looking around at a few things you had already repaired and made.

It was why he kept you around at first, you were just handy when it came to fixing something that had broke.

He turned around to look over at you.

“How’d you know how to fix her?”

You paused what you were doing.

“My dad owned a repair shop, mostly just household shit, but he could fix up other crap too, loved baseball.”

Negan slowly nodded his head.

“Next time you take Lucille without asked I’ll start breaking fingers.”

“Understood.”

He smirked at you, and he picked up a little figurine you had fixed of a baseball player you didn’t even know the name to.

“I’m taking this too.”

With that he left and you let out a sigh of relief.

Maybe you shouldn’t have drawn more attention to yourself, but in the world it was now, you needed to have people you could rely on, so you needed to prove yourself to Negan if you wanted a chance of being kept around and surviving.

Maybe you didn’t agree with how he did things, but you sometimes had to do these things in order to survive

#the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x you #the walking dead x y/n #the walking dead imagine #twd #twd x reader #twd x you #twd x y/n #twd imagine #Negan smith #negan smith x reader #negan smith x you #negan smith x y/n #Negan smith imagine

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