#mans just half assing life with some puppy dog eyes

[dollfacefantasy]

Playing to Win

pairing: stepdad!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: your new stepdad isn't much older than you, yet he has the audacity to ask you to call him daddy?

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, dubcon, daddy kink, humiliation kink, spanking, praise/degradation

word count: 4.3k

a/n: i got a little silly hehe. this is technically my first commission. if you’re interested, check out my ko-fi. as always i appreciate the support, smoochies.

this is my first commission written for my beloved @nexysworld. without her, this would never have come about. she's a great writer and such a sweet person. you all should go check out her blog if you haven't already.

“You want me to call you what?” you ask incredulously as you stare down the man standing across from you.

“You heard me,” Leon says with no sense of teasing in his voice.

You laugh in his face, a cruel, unabashed laugh. You could not believe his audacity to ask you to call him daddy. 

Technically, he was your new stepfather, but it was comical to you to even acknowledge him as such. He was right around your age, only a couple years difference, no way in hell were you going to call him daddy.

You had been open with your mother about your displeasure over Leon’s presence in your life. You called her a cradle robber and a cougar but to no avail. She continued her relationship with him; a young, bright eyed, rookie cop who always thought he knew best.

He wasn’t the problem so much. Sure, he was kind of annoying, but he was also pretty cute. He was funny, and if these were any other circumstances, you could see yourself and him getting along great, even being friends. Generally, he was nice to you, maybe a little over friendly if you were being honest. It always seemed like he knew something you didn’t, but you assumed that was just his nature.

“You’re funny, Leon,” you taunt, “Seriously, good joke.”

“It’s not a joke,” he corrects you and folds his arms over his chest, “Now that I’m taking a more serious role in your life, I expect you to show me some respect.”

“Oh, you do?” you laugh, “Leon-”

“Daddy,” he corrects.

You almost can’t speak, stunned to silence by the nerve of him. Was he doing this to annoy you? Was it supposed to be funny? Because there’s absolutely no way he could be serious about this.

“We are almost the same age. You realize this, yes?” you ask, enunciating the words slowly to get your point across, “I’m not calling you anything but your actual name. And maybe not even that cause you’re pissing me off, and I don’t wanna talk to you.”

“All this attitude, sweetheart, and for what?” he says as approaches you, “I’m not asking you to run a marathon for me. All I want is to be addressed properly.”

You scowl at the pet name. He brings a hand to your face, stroking your cheek with his knuckles before you swat it away.

“What is your problem, Leon?” you say angrily and shove him away, “Is this some fucked up fetish of yours? Like it’s not pathetic enough you’re fucking a divorced woman twice your age, right? You have to feel in control of me too to get it up?”

You laugh at him again when he responds with a glare. Rolling your eyes, you walk closer to him and get in his face.

“Aw, did I hurt daddy’s feelings?” you mock in the sweetest tone you could manage, giving him puppy dog eyes and putting emphasis on the title he was so obsessed with, “I’m so sorry daddy. Please don’t be mad at me.”

You’re about to laugh again before Leon spins you around so you quick the motion nearly gives you whiplash. Your back is flush against his chest, and even though you were teasing, your little performance clearly had some effect as you could feel his dick, now half hard, against your ass. It causes a small flash of heat in your belly that you try to pretend didn’t happen.

“Listen up, I’m not going to tell you again, baby. You do what I’m asking you, or we’re going to find another way to get it through your pretty little head,” he says.

His grip was firm. Despite his usual officer friendly persona, he could obviously be serious when he wanted to be. It didn’t shock you. You knew he was fit and could be intense. You’d caught him working out with his shirt off, sweat dripping down his muscular back while ‘Kim’ by Eminem blasted in his airpods. You tried to deny it, but it had left you feeling a little hot under the collar for the next few days.

You squirm in his hold, but he keeps your wrists pinned to your lower back. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do, send me to my room? Ground me?” you say as you try to wriggle away.

“Oh no, we’re past that. You want to be a brat, I’ll handle you like one. I’ll put you over my knee and smack that cute ass until it’s raw, and you understand who’s in charge around here,” he says.

“You’re gonna spank me?” you shriek. You thrash harder in absolute shock. “No way! Are you fucking crazy? My mother will kick your ass.”

“Your mother isn’t here, babe. I’ll do whatever the hell I want,” he says. His fingers only tighten on you, digging into your flesh. An arm loops around your waist and starts pulling you over to the sofa. “Maybe she’ll be grateful that someone’s finally trying to teach you some manners.”

Even though you knew he was in shape, he was much stronger than you thought. He sits down on the sofa and folds you across his lap with no real effort. You’re secure there too, unable to get to your feet or away from him. You still try though, flailing your limbs about and bucking your hips.

“There, there. Let’s calm down, honey,” he coos, now clearly taunting you. He rubs the swell of your ass over the tight dress you were wearing. “Just tell Daddy you’re sorry, baby. I’m not a bad guy. I’m willing to hear you out.”

You don’t even respond. You pound your fists against his leg while kicking your feet.

“Poor baby. There’s no reason to throw a tantrum,” he says in the most condescending voice you’d ever heard. He gives you a light warning tap on the ass. “Just tell me what I want to hear, and Daddy will make it all better, give you all the kisses you need until you’re back to being a good girl.”

He was driving you fucking wild. Your body was taut with anger while your mind ran wild with frustration, not only at him, but at yourself. You could feel your panties getting sticky with arousal as he spoke down to you.

“Shut up, Leon!” you say and continue struggling.

His hand comes down again, cracking a little harder against the supple flesh of your ass. You suck a sharp breath in. It didn’t hurt yet, but it stung. Anymore force behind the swing of his palm and you knew he could fulfill his threats of marking up your ass.

“You wanna try that again, princess?” he says, “I’ll give you one more chance.”

“No! I’m not calling you Daddy you sick fucker! I-”

A loud slap echoes through the room. That was the smack you were scared of. So hard you could feel the burn beneath your skin. There was absolutely no doubt about his strength now. He lands another two, one on each cheek, drawing whimpers from your throat.

“Watch your mouth,” he says, “I’m sick of the whining and the back talk. I’ve given you more than enough chances to fix your behavior. I’m done playing nice with you.”

In a quick motion, he yanks your skirt up to bunch it at the small of your back. You squeal out “Leon!” but it makes no difference. Again, you attempt to wriggle away. All it does though is give him a view of your ass wiggling around in those cute panties you wore. The ones he had seen peeking over the waist of your jeans.

He lays more lashes to your skin in rapid succession. You wriggle slightly and involuntarily whine. Your ‘stepfather�� felt no guilt though. Partially because it was all part of the plan, partially because he could see the light purple fabric between your thighs darkening with arousal. Plus, the pathetic noises spilling from your mouth only made him want to work harder, rip more sweet cries from you. He continues cracking his solid hand against your bottom, sending ripples through the soft flesh. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment, your eyes start to water, and your bottom lip juts out into a quivering pout.

“Oh, look at that sweet face,” he coos, taking a break from spanking you to stroke your cheek, “I know it hurts, baby. But it can all stop once you decide to stop being a stubborn little brat.”

He punctuates his statement with another swat. Your body jolts forward at the contact, head falling forward to hang in shame. You hate yourself for playing into it, but you can’t stop the automatic response that exits you in a humiliating whimper.

“I’m not a brat.”

“Oh you’re not? Could’ve fooled me,” he responds. He cracks his hand against your cheeks a few more times before giving you a break and rubbing the sore skin.

“I’m not. You’re just… you’re just mean.”

The words tumble from you in a pitiful cry, physically hurting you to say something so pathetic. To show such weakness when he was being such a prick. You shut your eyes, and a warm tear falls down your face. That only made you feel worse, making you want to cry more. A vicious cycle you couldn’t break out of when all your mind could think of was your stinging flesh and his patronizing voice.

“I’m being mean to you? Aw baby, after all the things you said, you think I’m the mean one?” he mocks.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whimper out without really thinking about it.

“I don’t need you to be sorry, sweetheart. You know what I want,” he says.

What’s supposed to be a groan comes out as a frustrated whine. You shake your head weakly and open your eyes again. His fingers slip beneath your chin to lift your face to look at him.

“Just say it. Say it and it will all be over. We can get on to helping you feel better,” he says.

The pain radiating from your ass, now glowing red, was almost enough to make you give in on the spot. But you could hear it in his voice. He was so fucking smug, having so much fun watching you cry and shift around in discomfort. You couldn’t just let him win.

So you shake your head defiantly, sniffling as your watery eyes connect with his in a stare. You immediately regret your decision because the amused glint that forms his eyes lets you know that he enjoys the resistance more than your submission. The corners of his lips tick upwards into a slight smile. Now it’s his turn to shake his head and mockingly tut at you before swinging his forearm and blasting your sore flesh with the heel of his palm.

You cry out, the noise strangled with despair. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip to restrain the louder sobs that were bubbling in your throat.

“Just give in, sweetheart. There’s no need to act tough for me. Do what I know you want to, and say the word,” he orders, his words coming out low and slow.

You know you should, but god, you don’t want to. It’s like your most basic instincts don’t want you to either. You have to think through it, force your tongue to conjure the word and expel it from your lips.

“I’m sorry… Daddy,” you whimper. A couple more tears leak from your eyes. The humiliation that mounts in your chest is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. But as the heat rises to your cheeks and clouds your mind, making you feel dizzy, you feel a deeper sense of heat spreading out in your lower belly. And it only gets worse when he starts in on you again.

“Oh, that’s my girl. Such a good girl when you want to be. I knew you could do it,” he coos, “Say it again for me, baby. Least you can do after being so cruel.”

At this point, you figure you’d already said it once, so what’s one more time. You say it again if for no other reason than to stop his harsh blows from raining down on your sensitive skin.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy,” you cry.

“That’s right. I know you are, honey. I know you don’t mean that stuff. You just wanted some attention, right? Wanted some time with Daddy all to yourself,” he says as his hand comes up and starts stroking your hair.

You weakly shake your head. You weren’t acting up because of that. He was being an asshole. That’s why you were acting up. Or were you even acting up? Your reaction was justified, wasn’t it? All the attention on you mixed with the shame boiling in your head makes it hard to think through this stuff.

“Oh, are you shy? Don’t wanna tell the truth?” he coos with a cruel chuckle. One of his hands rubs your aching ass while the other trails up and down your thigh soothingly. The latter hand slowly creeps to the junction of your legs. “I know that’s what it is, doll. I can feel it.”

As he says that, you feel fingers petting the damp fabric that conceals your cunt. You take a sharp breath to which his chuckle grows into a short laugh. He presses his fingers against the cloth, and you can tell immediately that even his movements are done in a way to mess with you. His digits drag against your panties, not giving you the pressure you need on your clit. You squirm awkwardly in an effort to find a better angle and not feel the soaked garment cling to your folds.

“Feeling a little impatient?” he teases.

You nod, any remaining shreds of dignity you have slowly being peeled away. You just couldn’t resist. The potential pleasure that’s just out of reach. The heat of his thick cock against your hip. His voice, like soft velvet slipping over your mind.

“Well honey, show me you can ask nicely, and I’ll be happy to help you out. Won’t even make you wait, we can get right to what you really want,” he says. His tone sounds slightly more genuine here.

“Pretty please, Daddy,” you force out. Your eyes cast down in shame as if you’re studying the pattern of the living room carpet.

“Pretty please what, babydoll?” he says, the teasing returning for a moment.

“Pretty please… fuck me,” you squeak.

He smirks, his victory written all over his face.

“Woah, listen to the mouth on you,” he tuts, “Normally, I wouldn’t let that kind of language fly, sweetheart, but I think you’ve had enough punishment for one day.”

His hands squeeze your waist and flip you over on his lap. He wipes away your tears with his thumb and presses a kiss to your forehead, that stupid smug expression on his face the entire time.

The next move is guiding your body onto the couch. You whimper as your back meets the cool leather. He pays that no mind and instead lifts your hips and tugs your skirt and panties off in one motion. You notice in your peripheral that he takes a souvenir, shoving the light purple underwear in his pocket.

After giving your ass a firm squeeze, his hands drift up and pull your shirt off. His eyes fixate on your tits, his soft hands coming to cup them and flick his fingers over your nipples which were beginning to perk up.

“No bra? I guess I should’ve expected that from you,” he chuckles as he continues fondling your soft breasts. The touch relieves some of the building pressure, the weight in your chest just begging to be squeezed and massaged. He watches the pliable flesh move beneath his fingers before giving your nipples a quick pinch and moving to undress himself.

He doesn’t waste any time, his clothing pooled on the floor in mere moments. He gets on top of you. Large hands hook behind your knees, angling your hips upward. Your legs come to rest on his shoulders as he grabs his cock and swipes the tip through the slick that had collected between your thighs.

“So fucking wet, I didn’t even need to warm you up,” he grunts as he pushes the tip in.

You bite your lip, unable to stop the whine it brings out of you. He exhales with amusement, and his free hand goes to your face to rub your cheek. It was only the tip so far, but you couldn’t even deny how good it felt. And while he moves with a purpose, he draws out this first thrust as long as possible. He inches it in, going as slow as he can. The pleasure he gets just from watching you squirm with desperation is clear in the way he looks down at you.

“There we go. Just what you need. Daddy filling you up. Gonna make you a good girl from now on,” he coos and drags his thumb over your bottom lip. 

Without even thinking, you open your mouth and flatten your tongue against the digit before wrapping your lips around it. You suck on it gently, softly moaning as your saliva coats his thumb.

At this point, it’s physically impossible for him to look more pleased with himself. Honestly, it seemed like he took more enjoyment from watching you slip farther into his grasp than he did from the feeling of your cunt pulsing around him.

Once he’s all the way in, completely buried in your warm, wet embrace, the hand that had been guiding his cock slides up. He gently thumbs your clit, grinning as your sweet mewls become the slightest bit louder.

He begins dragging himself in and out, savoring the feeling of your walls gripping him, sucking him in. It seems you only clamp down harder as he plays with your pretty little bundle of nerves. He keeps toying with it as his hips work back and forth.

Your eyes flutter, becoming half-lidded with the smooth stream of pleasure flowing through you. You whimper and whine while still sucking on his thumb. He started to repeatedly tease pulling it out before pushing it all the way in, nearly gagging you.

“So precious, aren’t you?” he whispers, leaning forward.

Your thighs are now pressed to your chest. His cock so deep it reaches places you didn’t even know about. He picks up the pace a bit, balls smacking against you with each move. To your dismay, he removes his thumb from your mouth, dragging it down and smearing spit down your chin. Your disappointment is only momentary as he’s quick to capture your lips in a searing kiss. 

His soft lips move against your wet ones while he continues pumping deep. Your head swims with the pleasure he provides. Everything becomes a soft warm haze as he toys with your clit and stretches you out. The gentle kisses combine with the tender feeling of his warm skin sliding against yours.

“Gonna have to do this every time you get bratty, baby. Keep you dumb on my cock, exactly where you should be, making sure you don’t get outta line,” he grunts, eyes closing as a wave of pleasure hits him, “This all you needed, just some time with Daddy.”

You nod lazily, all hopes of keeping a resistant exterior up gone out the window. “More kisses, Daddy,” you mumble as you connect your lips in a messy kiss.

He chuckles at the lack of resistance left in you. He returns your nod and indulges you. His tongue slips into your mouth, meeting your own as you make out.

It’s all so good. You can’t get enough. Everything is him right now. It’s all for him. You know you’re getting close and so does he. He can feel the way your pussy rhythmically constricts around him. It’s working him closer too, but he can’t let it end yet. Not before he gets to the final step.

His movements become strategic. You’re teetering on the edge, getting enough pleasure to keep you whining and clutching at him, but not enough for that final push to heaven. Just one more stroke in the right wave, and you know you could get there.

While your head continues to fog up from his efforts, he pulls away from kissing you. He nestles his head in between yours and the couch cushion.

“You know, honey, now that we’re seeing eye to eye, I think I should let you in on something,” he whispers, hot breath fanning across your ear.

“Mmm, what?” you ask. You were only half paying attention, too caught up in the heat of the moment.

“I’ve had my eye on you for a while, sweet thing,” he rasps.

“Really?” you ask, unsure why he was bringing this up but choosing to go along with it in your dreamy state. He had been dating your mom for a while, so maybe he had this little infatuation for longer than you thought.

“Mhm, earlier than I think you know,” he says with a nip to your earlobe.

“That’s nice,” you murmur and nuzzle your face against his hair, breathing in his scent.

“Aren’t you curious when? When was the first time I saw your pretty face? The first time I wanted to slide into this tight pussy?” he murmurs.

“When?” you ask. You tried to feign interest, but fuck, you really just wanted to cum.

“I remember it, clear as day. It was at a party, you remember that guy from high school who had the 3D tv in his basement. It was at his house. You were down there, looking so fucking cute, talking to some douchebag. And I heard you talking to him. About Fortnite,” he says.

You just nod and moan. You honestly didn’t even remember that he went to your high school, but you didn’t really care at the moment. It still felt so good, him drilling in and out of you. You just couldn’t help but wonder why he thought now was the time to bring this up.

“You told that guy your gamer tag. But I realized I also remembered that name. I had played a match with you before. You beat me, stole my victory royale,” he says with a soft laugh.

“Umm… ok,” you reply, totally lost and not just because your mind was all cloudy from being railed into the couch.

“Tell me, honey: do you remember the name rookiepillz?” he asks.

“No?” you say. Was this really the time for this conversation? That was all you could think. But before you could voice your complaint his hand starts rubbing your clit again with even more pressure than before. All words in your throat tangle up into a string of whimpers.

“You should. I sent you a message after that game. Told you ‘I’m gonna fuck you and your mom sweaty,’” he says with a particularly hard thrust, “Well, look at us now.”

You listen, absolutely lost, until the dots start connecting. You turn your head to look at him, not believing this was real. You did remember that message. It made you and your friends giggle for the next hour, created an inside joke for the next few years.

“No way,” you say. You try to keep your voice even, but despite his insane words, his cock was still hitting just right, “Rookie- fuck! Rookiepillz?”

He puts in a couple of those strokes that hit just right, brushed all your sweet spots, filled you up the perfect amount. All the while his thumb rubs your clit in tiny, quick circles. You couldn’t hold on. A sharp cry leaves you as you gush around his cock. You grip the couch for support as your body rolls with the rush.

“Yes way, sweetheart. Rookiepillz,” he grunts.

When most of the high has finished and you’re starting to come down, you open your eyes and look up at him with disbelief. He’s grinning, so satisfied that he’s gotten the last laugh.

“Wha- you’re… you’re fucking insane… literally why would you remember that? And why would you take it so seriously? It’s Fortnite!” you moan, still feeling the aftershocks of your release.

“I play the long game, baby, and I play to win,” he moans as a strained expression washes over his face. He snaps his hips a few more times before slamming in all the way with one final thrust. “This is my ultimate victory royale.”

With that, he empties himself inside you, hot cum flooding your cunt. You whimper yet again. It still felt good even if you just found out his motivation behind all of this was borderline psychotic.

He pumps in and out a few more times before pulling out. His chest puffs with deep breaths on top of yours. Both of you lay together in silence for a few moments. What had just happened? You could barely even comprehend it. Instead of driving yourself as crazy as he is by dwelling on it, you shove him off of you. You get up and start putting on your clothes again.

“You’re fucking crazy,” you say.

He laughs and sits up on the couch. “Don’t act like you didn’t have fun, baby,” he says while stretching, “You were such a good girl for your daddy.”

Your eyes widen and cheeks burn with embarrassment at his teasing. God, why had you ever said that? Now that you weren’t all worked up, you just wanted to go back in time and kick your own ass for even thinking of giving in.

“Shut up,” you grumble.

He stands up, still laughing and clearly on top of the world with his “victory.” You smooth out your outfit as he starts putting his own clothing back on. He holds up his belt and cracks it teasingly.

“Watch your mouth, there’s still time before your mother gets home. That sweet ass might not have enough marks,” he taunts.

You shoot him a glare before storming out of the room.

“Oh come on, babe. If you’re not into that, maybe we could play some Fortnite?” he calls.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut

[cameronspecial]

Loving the Zach stuff so far!!!

Could you maybe do something where yn hates his guts, but he is like in love with her and all her sass?? Then they're forced to go on some school trip together or something, and she realizes she likes him and a cute angry love confession, perhaps???

Danke 🫶🏼💐

Thank You, History Class

Pairing: Zach MacLaren x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.2K

Masterlist

Y/N and Zach have been running in the same friend group since Freshman year, but it doesn’t mean they necessarily get along. Well, it doesn’t mean that she likes him. His sarcasm and puppy dog vibe annoys her cool and distant personality. He’s always asking her how her day is going and trying to make her laugh with his stupid jokes. Zach, on the other hand, fell for her grumpy soul the moment he set eyes on her. Unlike most people, who don’t bother looking deeper into her personality, Zach could see the soft side that she held within and never let anyone see. He would always catch how she would stand up from her bus seat when she saw an elderly person. She wouldn’t let people around her know it was the reason, but she always did. He saw the little bowl of milk she left outside her house for a cat mother and her kittens. Finally, he saw how sweet she was to children whenever they were around her. 

Zach didn’t want to take a history class and he certainly didn’t feel like going on a field trip to a museum. It all felt very high school to him. The only upside about it: Y/N is also taking the same class. When he saw that he needed a history credit to graduate, he definitely didn’t go looking for what classes she was taking this semester to try and be in the same one. The cost was giving Jason access to his bathroom whenever he wanted, but it was worth it. He knows the field trip isn’t mandatory for any marks, yet he knows Y/N is going to be there. As he heads toward the Victorian house, he finds Y/N out front waiting for the professor to show up. Her clothing consists of black and brown colours as usual. Her hair was held back by a shiny black claw clip. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” he grins, coming to stand beside her. She gives him a side eye, “Could you be more cliche? Try something more original, would ya? I still can’t believe you are taking this class.” He doesn’t let her sour mood dampen his energy. “Come on, you know you like having me with you in this class. The only other people in this class are girls who have a romanticized view of the era, or guys, who have a history stick so far up their ass that they think a history degree will take them far in life,” he notes, turning to look at her. She looks him dead in the eyes, “I’m a history major. And I am neither of those things.” “I know, that’s because you are so much better than them. You are far too smart for them,” he flatters. She shakes her head, turning her attention to the professor who has just arrived, “Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” The professor leads them into the museum and begins his lecture. After ten minutes of listening to the man speak, both Y/N and Zach realized that coming was a big waste of time. He doesn’t know what he is talking about and Zach can hear Y/N constantly correcting the older man under her breath. 

He leans toward her, making sure his lips are close to her ear. “Wanna go on our own little tour? This man is getting half of this stuff wrong.” She thinks she has lost her mind because this must be the first thing Zach has said that she thought was a good idea. “That actually sounds kind of fun. They have a Victorian fashion exhibit I want to see, but I don’t think Professor Robo over there is going to take us to,” she whispers back. Her hand finds his and she hates to admit she likes the warmth of his in hers. They round the stairs to the exhibit. She looks delighted when she spots the first mannequin with clothes. Her feet find their way beside a girl about six years old, already looking at the dress. The child’s eyes find Y/N’s face and they smile at each other. “You know, this is an 1843 Evening dress. The bodice, the thing around the chest, is low off the shoulders. And they have lots of other skirts underneath to make it poofy,” Y/N softly explains to the little girl. 

They spent around thirty minutes in the small room. Y/N walks around with Willow and Zach, explaining each outfit to them. She is surprised that Zach seemed honestly engaged with what she was saying and would ask thoughtful questions. Eventually, Willow’s mother, an employee, came looking for her and took the girl to lunch. “Do you want to head to lunch?” she asks. He shakes his head, “Actually, I was hoping we could look at the Victorian sports exhibit. I brought some snacks, so if you are hungry, we can share.” He pulls out a bag of cucumbers shaped like hearts. She has to giggle at the sight because big jock Zach MacLaren likes to have his vegetable cut into shapes. 

“What?” he questions in fake offence, holding out the Ziploc to her. She shakes her head with a chuckle, “Nothing, just surprised your cucumbers look like an inaccurate depiction of a human organ.” “They make them taste better. Try,” he says with a shrug. He hands her a slice and listens to the sweet crunch of her biting into the vegetable. “Okay… I must admit it is more fun to eat it like a heart. I can pretend I’m a witch eating people’s hearts,” she agrees. He doesn’t look disturbed by her macabre comments, instead, he pretends to be ripping out his heart as he hands her another slice. She enjoys him playing with her deadly thoughts.

They spent about an hour looking at the different displays, eating his snacks and taking turns reading the display’s blurbs to each other. As they stand on the steps of the museum, Y/N towers over him from the step above. He looks up at her like she hangs the stars in the sky. “I hate to admit that you made this day pretty fun,” she confides. Her hands find their way behind her back, biting her lip as she looks into his eyes. His mouth turns into a crescent moon, “I’m really glad I did. I like spending time with you.” She takes a moment to think and moves her head away in frustration. Not at him, but at the turmoil inside her mind. Why is his charming smile suddenly getting to her? Why does she want to step into his warmth and let his arms bring her in? “Ugh, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I’m falling for you, MacLaren. So… would you want to go to dinner? Like on a date,” she confesses with a hint of annoyance in her tone that is just normally there. She is disgusted by the excitement that crosses his face. He gets off the steps, running around the green grass in front of the building. He jumps every so often with a little whoop let out as he does so. 

He rushes back to her, grabbing her around her waist and spinning her around. She finds the sound of her giggles odd but enjoys it nonetheless. “Way to keep a poker face,” she sasses, looking down at him. He doesn’t care though all he wants is a chance to be with her.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

#the other zoey #zach maclaren #zach maclaren x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey fanfiction

[argreion]

Who's a Good Boy?

Val Here --- Just a small little thing of pure smut I wanted to do! LITERALLY JUST HORNY ASS LEON! No actual fic today, just at least wanted to write something and do a small me day. We'll do normal dog hybrid Leon soon dw guys! This is only just my brainworm screaming at me! Puppy boy Leon!!! ❤️ (Not proofread, and a little wonky.)

Word count: 811

Warnings: Somno-ish! Small breeding mention. Pussy munch Leon, non-con, and P IN V! Leon trying to be helpful, but really just ruining your sleep and possibly your life in minutes. Literally, this could be triggering to some, so please don't read if you're sensitive to something like this!

FEM READER!

You just smelt so good as you laid in bed to Leon. The way you tossed and turned, completely vulnerable to him. Playing with yourself earlier as he 'napped' in the living room. Oh, you're such a dirty girl, miss owner!

Salivating as he stood over your sleeping form, half of the comforter covering your body. Taunting his little mind to just take you then and there. Gently, he pulled the comforter off your body. Eyes wide as he saw exactly what he wanted.

Your panties. Sitting perfectly on your rear, and drenched with your wetness. Don't worry, he'll clean up for you!

Inching closer towards your sleeping form, eyes watching as you twitched. So cute, only if he knew how to use— uhm, a phone! That thing you always used to call! And to take those cute photos of him!

Palm gently pressing against the mound, letting his fingers go between your clothed folds and rub. So good… He gets to touch you! Nose pressed against you, sniffing to his heart's delight. Watching as you had no response, this was perfect. He should've tried this sooner, just laying there all for him!

Leon couldn't help it as he began to suck on your panties, sucking the juices out of them. Lapping at your panties like a man depraved of food.

Pushing himself further up on your bed, gently turning you onto your back. Cutting panties off like it was stealing candy from a baby. Finally being able to push his mouth into your pussy. Lapping up your folds and sucking on your clit. Humping your sheets furiously as his eyes rolled into the back of his skull.

Moaning pitifully as his cock dribbled down, staining your sheets. You'll have to put a few quarters in the laundry mat to clean that up. Oblivious to the fact, you were slowly waking up…

Why was there something wet down below? D-did I have a wet dream?

Shakily, you reached down to check. Only being met with a lock of hair, squeezing it.

Leon paused, feeling your hand on his hair, panting against your cunt. His eyes became glazed over as he met your gaze. Blue eyes meeting your wide ones.

“You're up!” He yipped, instantly jumping on you. Scrambling to lick at your face.

You couldn't help but scream, watching as he forcefully mounted on. Cock in-between your folds, rutting against the slickness.

“I-it's ok! It's me! Don't you love me? I love you!” Leon panted, sloppily kissing you as he finally thrusted into your weeping hole.

Whining happily, his tail hitting his behind as he hammered into you like a rabbit. Tears going down your face as you stared at him. Attempting to shove his face off as he used you. You taught him to be better!?

In all honesty, he was pent-up. Seeing such cute girls at the park, their owners, you? You were so beautiful! Always praising him for sitting and getting his shots! Helping him with his ruts! Why not let him repay you? Leon is just so grateful for you, miss owner!

Trying to kick at him as he fucked into your tight hole proved futile. Even if he was relatively normal looking, being a hybrid had other… 'Privileges'. That being, he was stronger than you, with the mixed DNA in his body.

“Get off of me, LEON” You cried, slapping at his body. Feeling his hips abruptly stop as he looked down at you. Dazed eyes glancing down.

“G-get off? Why? Don't you feel good? You're all wet! I can help you, you helped me!” The puppy whined, tail moving between his legs as he started to thrust more.

He cried, smothering himself into your chest. Getting his slobber all over your shirt as he basically violated you.

“This isn't right! There are different ways!” Your back arched as he kept pistoning into your sweet spot. Nipping up your neck, giving you hickey's and bruises.

Only cries came from your lips as you felt something the size of a baseball push past your opening. Gripping the pillow beneath yourself as you braced for the pain. Expanding as Leon grew more primal, clearly not in the right state of mind.

“I'll help you feel better, m-miss… When you'll have my puppies! And you don't have to work! I can help you! Let me help you!”

You cried as you felt him empty himself deep inside you. Hips stuttering as he clawed at the sheets. A pleasured look on his face.

Leon panted, his tail wagging as he laid on top of you. Wrapping his arms around you as you shook in place. Love radiating off of him, as you laid there in utter shock. Frozen as you realized what happened. Tears going down your face.

How were you going to explain this to your friends and parents?

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you

[sometimesijustfeellikescreaming]

Apparently, Boot Camp Doesn't Have Lessons in Subtlety

Rating: T - Word Count: 3.5k

Read on Ao3

SUMMARY:

Benny DeMarco doesn't get paid enough to sleep in the same barrack as the Bucks at the POW camp in the winter months once everyone has to start sharing bunks…

Buck and Bucky are sharing a bunk and let's just say they are not subtle about anything that is going on in that bed. If anyone was oblivious to the feelings going on between the two of them before, it's never been more obvious than now.

Benny DeMarco is pretty over it, but he'll also defend them to his dying breath. Oh, and he's taken to gossiping about them with John Brady.

OR

A companion fic to my 5+1 Clegan bedsharing fic In your arms (I think I might survive) giving a humorous outsider perspective from the men of the 100th and those sharing the barrack with Buck and Bucky.

Benny DeMarco does not get paid enough to put up with petty shit in life. Specifically, the Bucks. Specifically how not subtle they are about their obvious feelings for each other.

God, could they be more obvious?

It was obvious from the moment Bucky came walking in the gates asking if Buck made it. Sure, the two were best friends and that was a normal question, but anyone who has eyes could've seen the way Bucky's whole demeanor changed once he caught sight of his "best friend."

Best friends my ass.

Best something, though, that's for sure.

It's usually not horribly distracting or overt, though. They pass as friends most of the time unless Bucky is drunk, Benny supposes, or they're arguing in which case they act like a goddamn married couple. They fly under the radar pretty easily at the prisoner-of-war camp for that reason. No danger, really. The Nazis would have their heads for any kind of association. Everyone knows how the Germans feel about that sort of thing. It's not spoken about. Hell, most people everywhere don't look too kindly on it, but DeMarco's not the kind of man who thinks somebody should be murdered because of the way they're living their life. It's not like some happiness in another person is worthy of the death sentence. That's just madness. And Buck and Bucky are some of DeMarco's best friends, he could never feel hatred toward them.

Annoyance? So much. And in increasing amounts...

See, they were fine until it got cold at night then Benny is certain everyone in the whole of their Barracks became painfully aware of the fact that they were painfully in love with each other because — goddamn it — they were sleeping in the same bunk and if it wasn’t obvious before that the two were hopelessly smitten with each other, well, after that it certainly was.

For one thing, Buck Cleven has the worst case of puppy dog eyes that Benny has ever seen. He’s had it bad for a while now (since before Benny went down and was still back at base) with his little soft smiles that he thinks he hides so well and mostly (mostly!) only gives Bucky when he’s not looking — but everyone else is.

LORD give him strength.

And then there’s Bucky.

That man antagonizes the fuck out of Buck at any given chance and Benny doesn’t even think he realizes it. And the worst thing is they both seem to like it. It’s the strangest thing and Benny is sure that this is their way of flirting.

Which is entirely infuriating because it’s the most annoying thing in the universe to be around.

Bucky’s antics only increase once they start sharing a bunk, and Benny’s not sure if it has more to do with his close proximity to Buck or his general cabin fever due to the German winter at the Stalag. Whatever the cause, Bucky is incorrigible, and his behavior at times is nigh impossible to deal with. Though, Benny has to admit, the moments of levity do bring several of the other men out of their low moments more often than not, himself included, so he can’t fault Bucky too much for his attitude. Even when he pisses Benny off, he is a light in the dark camp.

Still makes Benny want to punch him in the face half the time, but in a brotherly way.

And if the two of them are bad during the daytime, that’s nothing compared to how transparent they are when they’re actually snuggled together at night.

Now, Benny’s not an idiot. It’s winter. Even he is sharing a bunk. It’s cold as fuck outside and even he understands the necessity to shove aside pride and get in close quarters with a buddy for the foreseeable future. But, the Bucks have taken this situation and turned it into a nightly slumber party.

After the lights turn out they stay up whispering and giggling with each other like a couple of school girls. He’s convinced if their hair grew out long enough while they were here in the camp, the two of them would spend the nights braiding each other’s.

It’s not like Benny is especially complaining that they’re talking. They’re not that loud; he can’t even tell what they’re saying and he’s not sure anyone could even those in the bunks closest to them (though, the men in the bunks above and below them soon found themselves migrating away due to the way the Bucks consistently stayed up talking at night— nobody wanted to be in their bubble. They were a whole world unto themselves. Again— not subtle). So, it’s not the volume that bothers Benny about their conversations at night. It’s not even really that he’s bothered. It’s just that, really? It’s every night. And maybe Benny can admit to being just a little jealous because it’s not like he has a best friend here. Or anyone to talk to. Not that he would really want someone so important to him to be experiencing the Stalag alongside him, but it’s significant that in a place like this, the Bucks have each other. They seem to be holding together better individually because they have one another.

It pisses Benny off as much as anything else does. It’s not rational, but it makes their voices carrying across the room at night irritate him. He tries not to let it get to him because it’s not fair that them having a sliver of happiness should make him feel that way, but he’s just a man.

He starts to get over it when he starts gossiping with John Brady who is in another barrack, but also from the 100th and knows as well as he does what it is to know the Bucks.

“Brady, you have no idea— Bucky has it so bad. Yesterday we were all sitting around shootin’ the shit after lunch and— I swear to god— Buck gave him this look like he was being an idiot — because he was — and Bucky just leaned in real close to him like none of the rest of us were even there, face almost touching, no sense of personal space whatsoever—“

“Well, hey, it’s not like Bucky’s ever been good at personal space with his buddies much anyway—"

“Yeah, but usually he’s drunk. But listen to this next bit. Bucky leans in real close to Buck, fully sober, grinning like an idiot, and says ‘I could show you a thing or two.’” Benny lets it hang in the air, waiting for Brady’s response. He has his hands splayed in a well? gesture. Brady’s eyebrows fly up and he leans toward Benny in interest.

“You were all talking about baseball, right? But still, that is… very not subtle. A blatant flirtation.”

“I know.”

“Buck must know that too, right?”

“Please, Buck is always flirting with Bucky. He just does it differently. That man is not subtle either.” Brady seems confused by that, not convinced.

“Wait, what do you mean, I’ve never seen him flirt with anyone. Doesn’t he have a girl back home he’s writing to? I thought they were pretty serious!”

Benny makes a placating gesture and leans back in his chair. “I’m not saying he’s not serious with his girl back home or anything, but the way he makes eyes at Bucky is not a made-up thing. And anyone who’s ever read the Bible knows a man can have more than one lover.”

“Benny!”

“I’m just saying…”

But the thing is, the Bucks really aren’t subtle. Like, at all.

And if Bucky thinks he’s quiet in any sense of the word then he’s a damn fool.

Buck may be able to keep quiet most of the time in the daylight, being that he keeps mostly to himself and is pretty private, not saying too much, and isn’t overtly given to random outbursts of sound. But Bucky? Bucky is the pure opposite of Buck. In the daytime, he’s impulsive and will make stray comments on any conversation whether he’s a part of it or not, whether it’s appropriate or not. The only time Benny has ever seen Bucky hold his tongue is when it’s in a professional capacity in front of a superior officer, and even then half the time Bucky is mouthing back and risking his career.

To say this translates to the situation with the Bucks is to say that the sky is blue.

Meaning in December everyone in the Barrack with the Bucks is aware there is a change in the nature of the relationship between the two of them.

They are not subtle. Heavy breathing and the occasional low moan from their bunk is not an unusual occurrence starting sometime in December with increasing frequency.

Nobody says anything about it.

The Bucks are both happier for the shift in their dynamic and anytime somebody goes to complain about it, all of the men from the 100th noticeably stiffen and glare. They’re protective of their Majors to the end. All of them would likely die for either of the Bucks, let alone sucker punch anyone who criticized the men for finding happiness in wartime.

It’s not really a conscious decision on Benny’s part, to defend the Bucks and their relationship, it’s just that any time he hears anyone start to get a little tetchy about it, he gets defensive. So what if they’re keeping you up a bit? Shove off, put some wool in your ears, and deal with it, it’s the damn war. Stop being such a damn child about it.

They don’t complain anymore after that.

It’s just the way it is after that. Nobody says anything about it to anyone else. If the 100th is this protective of the Majors for mere comments, imagine how they would be with an actual threat? DeMarco’s not sure the 100th would be able to leave a man alive. Or at least unscarred— probably scare a man into secrecy if they even thought about saying anything about their Majors.

The days surrounding Christmas are perhaps some of the most awkward days of DeMarco’s life. Not only because it’s Christmas and he’s trying to ignore the holiday, not get caught up in his complicated feelings about the Holy Day that he wished he was spending with family back home, or even on base in more favorable circumstances with more friends, but also because the Bucks are acting weird. There’s a definite tension between them like they’re fighting. It carries into the next day too and the itchy feeling permeates into the air like a bad smell and affects everyone. It’s frankly awful.

Even Brady, who’s not in the same Barracks takes note of it at meal time.

“Benny, why does it feel like Mom and Dad are fighting and it’s my fault?”

“Thank GOD I’m not the only one who noticed!”

“I mean, look at them! They’re sitting right across from each other, and they keep glancing at each other when the other isn’t looking and they’re all moping sad eyes! What is going on?”

“Fuck if I know, Brady.”

“How long until they make up?”

“God, I hope it’s soon.”

Brady has a wild smirk on his face. “My bets are on tomorrow night. By the next morning, they’ll be acting back to normal— just you see.” His eyes are like a madman and Benny can’t see any logical conclusion to what he’s saying.

“No way in hell, kid. I’ll take you on that.”

But when he wakes up the next morning to Bucky’s horrible renditions of the birthday song, Benny knows he’s beat. That little shit knew too much. If Benny had known today was Gale Cleven’s birthday he never would have doubted that the Bucks would reconcile today.

And reconcile they do.

By the end of the night, Benny is convinced anyone in the Barrack who didn’t already know about the Bucks surely does by now because—

They. Are. Not. Subtle.

Or QUIET.

GOD.

Sometimes Benny wishes he could bleach his brain.

He loves his friend, but really, the two of them are colossal idiots.

There was more moaning tonight than usual and the culprit was none other than Buck, which is honestly surprising too since he’s the quiet one between the two of them for most of his life. But it is his birthday.

And— goddamn it— Benny does not need to think about what kind of present Bucky must be giving Buck tonight. Because that is just way too much.

But really? REALLY? In front of all of them?

Benny DeMarco is not getting paid enough to deal with the Bucks.

Benny shuffles into the mess in the morning and sits at his usual table waiting for Brady with his head in his hands. When he sees the Bucks walk in shoulder to shoulder, practically glued to the hip once again, talking quietly about the fuck knows what Buck smiling with his eyes and Bucky practically vibrating out of his skin with wild energy—

Well, Benny knows he’s lost the bet.

Damn, Brady.

Speak of the devil. The younger man takes a seat at the table across from him with a smirk, inclining his head toward the smitten couple a ways down the mess, but doesn’t say anything.

“Oh, shut up, Brady, I got enough of an earful last night.”

Brady’s eyebrows go up comically high at that. “Wait, no! Now you have to dish!”

Benny glares. “As if you didn’t know already that it was Cleven’s birthday yesterday.”

Brady has the decency to look sheepish at that. “I’ll admit, I may have had some insider knowledge there— but how was I supposed to know you didn’t also know? All’s fair, and that.”

“Whatever. You really sure you want to hear this one, Brady?”

“Since when have you been shy about the exploits and drama of the Bucks, Benny?” He’s sure his face must be red. Benny glances over his shoulder where the men are sitting across from each other, chatting like the tension of the last few days never happened.

“Okay, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. They— well, obviously I don’t know anything for certain, but…”

“But what? Spit it out, Benny!”

Benny covers his eyes with his hand. Why is this so hard to say? Is it because it’s his friends? Is it because they’re men? He doesn’t know, but it feels so secretive like he can’t say it in the daylight. He takes the hand away and leans in a little closer. “Well, I’m pretty sure that Bucky got Buck off last night. There was so much moaning and most all of it was Buck. Some sort of birthday surprise. It’s never been like that before, ya know?”

Brady’s eyes go comically wide, his jaw falling slack just so. His eyes dart over Benny’s shoulder to where the Majors are. Benny wonders if he’s broken the poor kid. After a moment, the biggest grin Benny has ever seen splits Brady’s face.

“OH MY GOD! FINALLY!”

What.

Benny is so confused.

Several people around them look over at Brady’s outburst.

“Brady, shut up!” Benny hisses between clenched teeth.

“Sorry! Sorry, it’s just. I mean, it’s kinda romantic, innit? I mean, you know they met at bootcamp, right? They always tell stories about falling in love during hopeless circumstances and how love overcomes everything— to actually see it happen? I mean, c’mon! Look at them! They’re beating the odds! They keep surviving everything and even though they both got downed in Germany, they both made it here to the same place? Beating the odds again? How can I not be excited that their friendship destined for more is becoming that? And that they’re making it work despite that?” Brady’s staring off into the distance, a goofy-looking smile on his face, his eyes practically filled with hearts, and Benny—

Benny is just staring at him with a dumbfounded expression.

What the actual fuck is going on here.

Benny gets it on a superficial level. What the kid said makes sense in a girly romance-novel sort of way, but it doesn’t connect for him the same way. The Bucks are just his friends and they’re just two guys who like each other and maybe had sex last night way too close to him in the barracks.

Brady is something else.

“Right.”

After that, everything escalates. The Bucks are all over each other day and night it seems, and Brady is always either talking to Benny about them or hounding him for information. It’s like the Bucks bring Brady hope in the camp, but Benny is concerned that it’s bordering on obsessive. As for the Bucks themselves… well, they’re still flying under the radar during the day to anyone who doesn’t know them, but for the love of all that is holy Benny just must know them because it’s like all he can see are their little glances and nods. The way they leave things around for each other in hidden gestures that mean something to the other. How one of them will quirk an eyebrow or leave space for the other to fill.

He doesn’t mean to notice things. He’s trained his whole life to be an observant man! It’s in his nature to pick up on interpersonal dynamics. He could do this with his eyes closed. (At night he does this with his eyes closed and he wishes he could just knock himself unconscious but he swears those men are making out in the bunk across the way. He just knows it).

So, when it’s Valentine’s Day and Buck gets a letter from his sweet, sweet Marge and Buck absolutely shuts down, Benny really should have seen that coming. It surprises him that he didn’t see it coming, actually.

“Brady they’re acting like idiots.”

“Why? It’s Valentine’s Day! They’ve been dating since at least Buck’s birthday— what could possibly have happened?”

“That’s the thing, Brady. I have a theory.”

“Uh-oh. What is it.”

“Listen here, kid, I dunno how well you’ll take this.”

Brady’s eyebrows draw together.

“You don’t think they broke up on Valentine’s, do you?” Brady sounds horrified even at the thought. Before Benny can get in a word edgewise to calm him down, Brady is talking again. “But even if they did have some big blowout fight— Benny! They would never stay apart for long! Look at those two through everything! I mean—“

“Brady! That’s not it at all!”

All the stress instantly drops from Brady’s frame and is replaced with confusion in a moment.

“It’s not? Then… what is it.”

Benny heaves a sigh and runs a weary hand through his hair. Not paid enough for this…

“Listen, Buck got another letter from Marge today, right, ‘cause it’s Valentine’s and all, and Bucky got all sad about it—“

“Right! That makes sense.”

“Stop interrupting me.”

“Sorry!”

Benny glares.

“Sorry,” Brady says again, hands up in a peace offering.

After another moment of staring Brady down, Benny continues. “As I was saying, Bucky got all hurt about the letter, so my theory is that these two idiots,” Benny leans in closer and drops his voice for security’s sake as he continues, “have been dicking around this whole time and never actually talked about the fact that they’re both in love with each other.”

Brady gasps— loudly. He looks even more horrified than when he thought the Bucks broke up.

“NO WAY!”

“SHUT UP!” Benny hisses, looking around to make sure nobody is watching them. “But think about it for a minute.

“There’s no way they haven’t talked about it, Benny! You said so yourself, they’re always up at night talking and whispering— for hours sometimes!”

Benny gives him a wary look. “Yeah, but you honestly think either Buck or Bucky is willingly talking about their feelings for hours and hours?”

Brady purses his lips. “You got me there.”

There’s a beat of silence between them as they both sit with the revelation of it all.

“What happens now, then?”

“Well, one thing is for sure, if Bucky mopes around the barracks for one more goddamn minute I’ll lose my fucking mind, so I’m going to go tell Buck that his boyfriend is being an idiot. And frankly? That he is too.”

“Well, you better let me know how it goes tomorrow! This is SERIOUS, Benny!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure whether I want to or not, you’ll find a way to get it out of me.”

Brady does, in fact, get the story out of Benny the next day.

“OH MY GOD HE WHAT????”

“Brady, would you calm down? And shut the hell up? I just told you what happened!”

“I know, I know! I just can’t believe it. You really mean to tell me that Bucky was moping in his own bunk after MONTHS of sleeping in Buck’s and when Buck confronted him about it he stood at the foot and talked and then suddenly aggressively climbed on top of Bucky for some sexually charged fight until they eventually just started making out?”

“That’s what I just said, Brady, yes.”

Brady starts laughing and doesn’t stop until there are tears in the corners of his eyes.

“I’m also pretty sure they said I love you, but I never can actually hear them. Just from the context.”

“OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOD THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE.”

“Brady SHUT UP!”

~Fin

#john brady #benny demarco #john egan x gale cleven #john “bucky” egan #buck x bucky #major buck cleven #bucky cleven #buck cleven #bucky x buck #mota #mota fic #mota fanfic #buck(y) #clegan #POV benny DeMarco

[xdaddysprincessxx]

Congrats on 800, Prinny!

my thot:

Joel is a truck driver and reader is a hitch hiker he picked up several states before. They get along well enough (no sex...yet) THEN! one day, another hitch hiker approaches Joel looking for a ride - Ezra. He wants to know if you're available for some fun, and Joel has to decide if it's just him who gets you or if he's got room in his bunk for a threesome...

I leave the rest in your ever capable and good hands, baby!

Beefro👌🥩💜

Ride

Joel x F!reader x Ezra

18+, this is grump x sunshine x2, we got ass eating, ass spanking, 1 face slap, double penetration, and more. Very barely edited, not beta’d all mistakes are mine, read at your own risk. Also again 18+ , minors fuck off thank you

Word count: 3,200 - “Drabble” lmaoooo yea it got away from me.

REO Speedwagon flowed through the truck speakers as you reach your hand out the open window, letting the wind move your hand up and down. You’ve kicked your bare feet up on the dash as you hum along quietly. Your companion, Joel, lets out a grunt as he gives you a side eyed glance. It’s been a couple of months since he picked you up on the side of the highway. Unhappy with how life was, you decided to say fuck this, packed a small bag and headed out for whatever adventure came your way. Unfortunately you didn’t plan on your car dying on you half way across the country. Which is how you found yourself stranded at a gas station in Nevada. There was a hotel next to it that you were able to get a room at. One morning you packed up and started walking down the highway. You didn’t go too far in case no one picked you up, you could still walk back to the hotel.

Wearing your shortest daisy duke shorts with an old white tshirt tied up in the front, you were determined to hitch a ride. Lo and behold here comes a semi truck just driving along. Quickly you stopped and stuck your thumb out to signal you needed a ride. At first the truck kept going but soon the driver pulled over. Smiling real big you started to run towards the truck.

Climbing up the side, you stuck your head in the window,

“Well hello there handsome. You got room for little ole me to join?”

The driver had a permanent scowl on his face it seemed. Very easy on the eyes, a soft belly that hung over his pants as he sat.

“Hop in darlin.” He said in a deep, gruff voice.

Something about the handsome, thick driver got you going. You could already feel yourself getting wet just from this small interaction.You couldn’t help but think of how much trouble you just found yourself in.

Present Day

It’s been a few weeks since Joel picked you up. A part of you is surprised he hasn’t dropped you off and left yet. Another part of you hopes he never does. For the most part Joel doesn’t talk a lot. He hasn’t really opened up about himself to you. But you are a talker, you love to chat and boy do you.

Leaned back with your bare feet on the dash with your hand outside the window, moving with the wind.

“I heard it from a friend whooo heard it from a friend who heard it from another you been messing around” you softly sang out loud. Turning your head to face Joel, giving him a big smile.

Joel returned your smile with a soft smile of his own.

Something about you has captivated him. Your beauty stunned him the first time he saw you. You had a pretty mouth he often daydreamed of but your little talking habit drove him crazy. As time went on though he found he actually enjoys hearing you go on and on about everything and nothing all at once. And now that’s he’s spent all this time with you, he’s not so willing to let you go. Ever. Whether you agreed or not, in Joel’s mind, you were his.

“Hey! Look! A hitchhiker! Can we help him Joel? Please? Like how you helped me?” You batted your eyelashes and gave him your best puppy dog eyes.

Joel saw a man walking down the highway, sticking his thumb out.

Looking at you, he rolled his eyes and let out a deep sigh. Without saying anything Joel pulled the truck over and the two of you waited on the man to catch up to the truck.

Ezra was a traveler, always on the move. The past few weeks he’s been spending his time in this little town keeping this pretty lady’s bed warm. That was until her husband came home and chased him away. Now he finds himself walking down this almost deserted highway. He has given up hope of finding a ride when he heard a truck rumbling behind him. As soon as he heard the engine he stuck his thumb out hoping the driver would be a Good Samaritan. The truck drove on by making Ezra let out a huff as he kicked the gravel up with his boot. As he looked back up he saw the truck pull over.

‘Holy shit it’s my lucky day after all’, he thought to himself as he started into a light jog to get to the truck as soon as he could.

Stepping up on the side steps, he gets up to the window and sees the prettiest little thing sitting passenger and . . A handsome old grump behind the wheel.

“ Hey there, any way I can catch a ride with you fine folks today? Destination doesn’t matter, just somewhere far from here.”

“Yea! We can take you with us! Hop in!” You reply in a higher pitched tone, sounding extra excited than one should sound when picking up a hitchhiker. You couldn’t help it though. The man was gorgeous. He had this little blonde patch of hair, beautiful, dark brown eyes and the most sweet sounding voice you’ve ever heard. As much as you’ve wanted Joel, he’s never given you any hint that he wants you in that way. And you’ve been dying to itch a particular scratch that you feel this hitchhiker could really scratch for you.

Giving you a big smile, Ezra pulls the door handle, opening the door as you get up and move to sit on the bunk between the two seats.

“Names Ezra. Nice to meet ya,” he puts his hand out towards Joel to shake.

“Joel.”

He says in a flat tone as he shakes his hand.

Ezra quickly gets the feeling that Joel isn’t much of a people person. He can see why Joel has such a pretty little companion as yourself, Joel’s handsome. Gruff and firm, no nonsense kind of guy. He wonders if he’s the type to be dominant in bed. Manhandle his partner and just throw them around, mold them into any position he wants. His own cock twitch’s at the thought.

“And who might you be young lady?”

You tell him your name as you let out a soft giggle, smiling and give him a little flutter of your lashes.

“What brings you out here Ezra?” You ask in your best flirty voice.

“Bit of a traveler. A nomad if you will. Don’t like to stay in one place too long. Wanna see the world ya know?”

“That’s so . . Romantic. Always on the move, seeing what the world has to offer. I bet you’ve met some wonderful people. Seen a lot beautiful women huh?”

Ezra can’t help but give you a smirk, loving how forward you are.

“Haven’t met anyone as beautiful as you honey.”

Joel loudly clears his throat making the both of you startle slightly and look at him.

“What about you handsome? With a pretty little thing by your side I’m sure you never look twice at anyone else huh?”

Joel’s jaw ticks as he gives Ezra this mean stare.

“This “pretty little thing” over here is mine,” he says bluntly before looking back at you, “and I don’t appreciate you throwing yourself at the first man you see like a filthy fucking whore.”

Your mouth drops open, you’re stunned.

“Hey now no need to call her names. I get it, she’s off limits. No need to get mean buddy. I didn’t know.”

You turn your head giving Ezra a confused look before turning back to Joel.

“Excuse me but I am not yours. I am a free woman and on top of that you have never claimed me before now. I can do what I want with who I want thank you very much.”

Joel is pissed now, he pushes the arm rest back before swinging one of his legs to the side, opening his legs wide and then grabbing your upper arm and pulling you towards him. You stumble as you fall over his lap, his arm wrapping over your back holding you in place. His large hand covers the globes of your ass as he rubs it from the top down to the curve of your ass.

“You’re.” Smack. “Mine.” Smack.

He just spanked you. He actually spanked you. If you weren’t in shock over him claiming you, you definitely were now.

He gives you another smack and a whimper came tumbling out of your mouth. You didn’t even have a chance to try and conceal it. Joel stopped moving, hearing you whimper from his actions. He knew you’d be into some freaky shit. He looks over and sees Ezra sitting there, almost mesmerized by the display in front of him.

“Take your cock out.” Joel orders Ezra.

Stunned and very much turned on, he does what he says and takes his cock out of his pants. Spitting into his hand he brings it back down and slowly starts stroking himself.

Joel looks back down at you in his lap, the bottom of your ass spilling out of the little shorts you have on. He reaches down taking his fore and middle finger and rubs a long stripe up your pussy through your shorts.

“I guess I haven’t been taking care o’ ya. My girls pussy needs to be fucked don’t it? Poor thing. I’m sorry baby let’s fix that.”

His hand pulls back before he gives your clothed pussy a slap.

A wanton moan fills the cab of the truck.

He helps you up, sitting you on his lap. You see Ezra watching, touching himself. You can feel yourself begin to soak your shorts. You face Joel and lean in, your lips softly landing on his. You start to pull away when Joel kisses you back, grabbing the side of your face as he deepens the kiss. You allow his tongue to enter, licking around, tasting each other. All too soon Joel pulls back. He hand goes to your face, squishing your cheeks together between his thumb and fore finger. He rotates you to look at Ezra.

“Our guest looks like he needs some help baby. Be a good host, open up that pretty mouth.”

As soon as he releases your face, you get on your knees, in between the two seats, looking up at Ezra as you reach out and take him in your hand. You grip around the base, giving him a couple of tugs before leaning in and kissing the tip. You give it another kiss before you open your mouth, your tongue darting out to taste the precum leaking out. You slowly start to take him into your mouth. Lips wrapped around his cock as you take as much of him as you can. His cock is about 6 inches, rather average but very girthy. You keep reminding yourself in your head to breath and relax. The more you relax the more you can swallow his cock. You start bobbing your head up and down as he watches you, letting out soft moans that spur you on.

Soon you feel Joel pull your hips up and work quickly on taking your shorts off. You pull off of Ezra’s cock with a wet pop as you go to pull your shirt off, revealing your tits to the men.

“Fffuckk.” Ezra mutters before leaning forward and taking a nipple into his mouth. You moan as you tangle your fingers into his hair, holding the back of his head to your breast as he sucks. You hear Joel behind you unbuttoning his pants and lewdly spitting on his hand.

“Lean back down baby let me see those sweet holes.”

Ezra releases your tit so you can bend over for Joel. You bend over, keeping your ass in the air as you take Ezra’s cock back into your mouth. Giving it a few sucks and finding a decent rhythm, your hand lets go so you can reach back and spread your ass cheeks open for Joel.

“That’s it baby just like that.” Joel grunts. He spits on his forefinger and middle finger and swirling it around your puckered hole. He slowly pushes one finger in your ass making you choke on Ezra’s cock.

His finger stills inside, wiggling his finger around a few times before pulling back out. His other hand comes up and starts rubbing your wet pussy. Quickly finding your clit and giving it a few rubs before pushing his finger back into your ass. Joel finds a rhythm fast, rubbing your pussy as he fingers your ass. The sensation alone has you on edge, you begin to move faster on Ezra’s cock.

Joel starts to add a second finger in your ass causing you to let out a little welp.

“J-Joel! That’s too much! I can’t take it!”

“Shh baby you’re taking it. Taking it just fine. Let me kiss it better.”

Removing his fingers, Joel leans forward, holding your cheeks apart, licking a wide stripe up your ass. Your hands now on Ezra’s legs to keep yourself up right. You and Ezra lock eyes as you moan, feeling Joel swirl his tongue around your asshole, licking into it, making your pussy spasm around nothing.

Ezra cups your face, “That feel good sugar? You like feeling his tongue in such a forbidden hole? I bet your poor sweet pussy must be leaking by now.”

You can’t help but let out a sob. You need more, your neglected clit needs friction.

“Shh I know baby I know, let him French kiss that sweet hole. Let him make your sweet honey drip so we may feast.”

Joel pulls back, spit dripping down his chin,

“Get on the bed Ezra.”

He puts his arm under you, pulling you up. You fall back onto Joel, your legs shaking unable to hold you up.

Ezra makes quick work of taking his boots and pants off, pulling his shirt off as he slides by you to get on the bunk.

Once he’s settled on the bed laying on his back, Joel helps you get on the bunk next.

“Lay on top of him baby. You, hold her open for me.” He orders the two of you.

Ezra pulls you on top of him, your back against his chest. His hands holding the backs of your thighs, right behind your knee as your legs are bend. Holding you wide open. You can feel his cock in between your open cheeks.

Joel undresses and climbs on the bunk facing you.

“Goddamn. Never seen something more sinful or fucking beautiful than this.” He reaches down and grabs ahold of Ezra’s cock and starts pushing the tip towards your puckered hole.

“Joel! Nno! I- I can’t it won’t fit! Please!” You try to move but Ezra’s got a tight grip on you.

“Shh baby it’ll fit, I got you nice and ready back here. He’ll go slow baby.”

He watches your hole as the tip goes in, he takes his other hand and brings it to your pussy and starts rubbing circles on your clit.

You throw your head back and let out a moan, finally getting some friction on your cunt feels so good, you feel your whole body relax, momentarily forgetting about your asshole.

“That’s it baby let it happen,” he whispers before leaning forward and pulling your clit between his lips and sucking. His hand that guided the other man’s cock in you made its way down to his balls, giving them a soft squeeze. Hearing him moan with you is making Joel’s cock leak. Ezra’s cock is almost all of the way in your ass now and it feels so good. You feel stuffed just from him.

Joel sits back up and just admires the two of you.

Taking himself in his hand he moves closer and swipes his cock through your folds a few times before slowly pushing into your pussy.

Your mouth is hanging wide open, your chest heaving as you watch Joel push you past any limits you could’ve had. Having both men now inside of you is an indescribable feeling. It’s a fullness like no other.

“ Oh fuck you both feel utterly divine. This must be heaven.” Ezra says breathlessly as he lays there inside of you, able to feel the weight of Joel’s cock inside your pussy.

“Move Ezra, go on. Let’s make her feel good.”

“Yes sir.”

He gives an experimental thrust, bouncing you slightly making Joel sink deeper into you.

He starts to build up a tempo, thrusting up into you while Joel stays still above you.

Soon Joel moves, finding a rhythm with Ezra. As one moves out the other moves in.

You can’t help but close your eyes as you lean back in ecstasy.

Joel’s quick to grab your throat, squeezing just right to make your eyes fly open.

“Keep your eyes on me baby, you will watch when I’m fucking you. Do you understand?”

Joel slaps you, not hard but enough to leave a slight sting. Your face turns slightly, the hand around your throat not giving you much movement. A wanton moan spilling from your lips.

“Yes Joel I’m s-sorry baby I won’t take my eyes off you again nngh ohh oh fuck oh fuck you feel so good. So full.”

Joel starts pounding harder into you, still squeezing your throat. Ezra’s holding onto your legs for dear life, the friction of Joel’s dick rubbing against him has him ready to burst.

“F-fuck nngh take our cum baby take every fucking drop you hear me?” Joel groans, you can tell both men are close.

“Mhmm cum inside me baby cum inside my little whore cunt. Mark my ass Ezra, I wanna feel you leak out of my holes oooh oh fuck oh fuck please cum baby!”

You reach down and start rubbing furiously at your clit, sending right over the edge. You let out a scream as you start coming, vision going blurry as tears escape your eyes. Your orgasm hitting you like a truck.

Both men soon follow right behind you, spilling their seed deep inside both of your holes.

All three of you still, breathing heavy as Joel pulls out. Ezra’s soft cock slips out right after him as he lets go of your legs.

“Hold on baby don’t move.” Joel tells you before reaching down in between the bunk and the drivers seat, pulling out an old school Polaroid camera.

Aiming the camera at you and Ezra he snapped a shot and a Polaroid came spitting out. He grabbed the photo and sat it by his leg. Then he leaned forward and snapped another pic, this one a close up of your cunt and asshole leaking cum. Taking both photos and placing them on his seat before laying down next to Ezra as he pulls you into the middle.

No one really said a word. It was just the three of you, laying together, soft smiles shared, basking in the soft embrace of each other before falling asleep.

A/n: omg lmao so this was meant to be a drabble, this is one hell of a drabble 😂🤷🏻‍♀️ thank you so so much for such a beautiful thot my sweet beef baby @beefrobeefcal !! I hope you love this! I hope yall enjoy this! I really loved writing this and thank you again for following me, reading, interacting, all of it! You guys are the best!

#prinny’s 800 celebration 🎉 #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #Joel x you x Ezra #pedro pascal characters #ezra prospect #ezra smut #grump x sunshine #follower milestone #follower celebration #pedro pascal cinematic universe

[snootlestheangel]

141 Headcanons

This is "the 141 as shelter dogs" cause that's the only thing on my mind the last 5 days. It's so rotting my brain so I have to share. If nothing makes sense feel free to ask questions. I'd love to explain in more detail about my job since I actually didn't know how much goes into a shelter.

Anyways this is just a little thing right now cause I'm tired and brain no work except when it comes to my work

Some things: bonded animals are harder to adopt because they need to remain together and people often don't want that responsibility.

There are waivers for animals. Typically dogs will have waivers that are for they have a bite history, cannot be around small children, cannot be around small animals like cats, cannot be with other dogs.

Ghost

He's a big Shepherd/Pyrenees mix that's known for being a bit difficult to handle. He came in because animal control took him from a really abusive home. He was terrified of everyone but used his teeth and big size to fight first.

Hes the entire staff's favorite though because they all know it's not his fault, its just the abuse he suffered all those years. The behavior team loves when they get to spend time working with him on leash training and desensitization.

He started improving cause they introduced him to playgroups (where he gets to finally meet other dogs and play with them). He spends most of the time hiding between the team lead of that particular playgroup (despite being like half her size). He does eventually come out of his shell a bit but he's still very reserved.

Gets called "handsome man" literally all day by staff. So many treats. Is actually the sweetest and prefers to sit and "keep watch" then anything else.

Is bonded with Soap. Has bite history waiver.

Price

Big shaggy looking older dog. Has the schnauzer beard so he definitely has some of that in his blood. Called "Captain" cause he just seems to be in charge. Just has that face of "I'm the boss" despite being a dog.

Gets overlooked a lot cause he's not the most attractive dog for people wanting to adopt. He's shaggy looking and a bit grumpy, he's also an older dog so he's overlooked a lot.

Was surrendered for biting the neighbor. It's not his fault, it's the neighbors but ya know. Dog bites person, dog gets taken. It's an unfortunate reality and often times either the owners don't want the dog back or can't get them back.

Soap

Aussie/border collie mix. Has a patch of brown on his head that makes it look like a mohawk. Has the brightest blue eyes and looks just as intelligent as he is.

Was dumped on the shelter's doorstep. He quickly ate his way through a delivery that had soap in it, hence where he got his name.

He became a favorite quickly, got adopted, but was returned in less than a week. The reason being he was "too jumpy". Yes. This is a real ass reason people return their adoptions.

He gets introduced to Ghost as a playmate. They think Ghost needs a more social, confident dog to be buddies with (nothing else is working). It goes great, the whole staff is shocked when they see Ghost play wrestle with this little maniac.

It goes so well, in fact, that Ghost gets more stressed when he's not out in the run with Soap. They end up putting the two together in a kennel that's technically a room. (Something called a real life room that enables higher stress dogs or dogs with buddies to stay visible for the public)

He likes to use Ghost's head to stand on his hind legs when it's food time. Likes to yell but one slap from Ghost and he'll stop.

Gaz

Puppy privilege. Isn't even technically a puppy anymore, he's just got the face and personality of one.

Has a big prey drive though. Was surrendered for killing a bunch of stray cats.

Literally described as sassy cause he'll "talk back" and gives side eyes all the time. Known by the dog walkers as a menace just cause he's strong despite his size, and will yank the leash out of your hand or pull your arm off when he sees anything interesting.

He's a "walk only" dog because he's also an escape artist. Can be in playgroups but needs the "rough and rowdy" one to keep him occupied so he doesn't try to escape.

Soap and Gaz both throw hands with the people trying to leash them for walks, to go on the runs (little spaces of concrete made for dogs to go to the bathroom and play), to go meet potential adopters. Price will politely stand there and let you leash him. Unless Ghost knows you, he will lower his head and let out a growl but doesn't do anything else.

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #cod mw2 #call of duty #soap headcanons #ghost headcanons #gaz headcanons #price headcanons

[itgirlgyu]

HONEY FOR MY HONEY! huening kai.

ຊ 'huening kai! x fem reader ᝰ GENRE! FLUFF, CRACK!

🎊. S_UMMARY! %🍓 your plans to surprise your boyfriend gets ruined because of two giant buffoons and their biggest vices!

WORD COUNT ﾉ 1637! 𔖭𔖮 warnings include + BEES! 𐬹 ۫ ۪ beomgyu a lying, useless partner in crime, soobin as a snitch, and huening being the best boyfriend ever! ꒷꒦

“Yeah but why am I being dragged into this mess?”

Beomgyu may not be right about a lot things; like his ludicrous bullheadedness about the weather being just fine even though the grumble of the darkened clouds could easily deafen anyone, or the the time he thought a dog, who visibly had a tag that said it would be dangerous to approach it, and beomgyu still marching right ahead to to pet the,"adorable puppy," as he called it, and nearly getting his ass bitten.

But this time, you're afraid that he just might be right.

"Because you were the only one available," you told him casually, albeit some roots of guilt that had started to sprout on your head, had already started to die down when you reasoned with yourself—I mean he was your friend, you could definitely expect a favor, or two from him.

Beomgyu put on the veil that was provided by the Bee Harvest you two were visiting to get your boyfriend's birthday present—and that completed his entire ensemble, mirroring yours.

You threw him a quick thumbs before twirling around to venture out into the wilderness—to risk your feeble, lovesick self to acquire the best gift for the love of your life.

"You know," Beomgyu began, his thought shortly interrupted by a pebble he had tripped over. After gathering himself up promptly, Beomgyu quickly dusted himself off with the help of some colorful string of curse words flying out of his dulcet lips, " You could literally dig a plushie out of a garbage can to give him, and Kai would still be happy."

Your eyes instinctively rolled to the back of your head as the frigid perceptive of love from your beloved friend, and current partner in crime, hit your ears. You were aware that Beomgyu was a well known hypocrite, so dwelling on every little word that comes out of his motormouth would be akin to putting your feet on an axe willingly.

"What's the point of complaining now?" you sighed, following the honey harvester who would teach you how to extract the honey yourself, " We're already here."

"And I want to give my honey real honey!" You turned back dramatically, finding Beomgyu standing a little distance from you, with his hands on his hips as though he was waiting for you to finish your grand speech on love.

"You done?" He inquired. Even if his expressions were shielded from you by the veil hat, the judgment that seeped out of his body language, and his words—well soaked in a bitter concoction of annoyance, and anger really coming through strongly.

"Yep!" You answer immediately, " But you came so—"

"Yeah or else Yeonjun Hyung said he'd kick me out of the lease," Beomgyu grumbled, stomping past you to follow the instructor to the destination.

"You're the best Beomgyu!" You cheered on from behind before skipping ahead to match the long strides he took in his fit of rage, and helplessness.

It only took half an hour.

Half an hour to realize that maybe Beomgyu was right; that he had a point. That Beomgyu too, could make two right points in a singular day— that being, what he would even do to help you?

The simple answer was a resounding nothing; in actuality he'd may even increase the workload for you, and for that you only have yourself to blame now as you sit beside the man who was in a feverish state after seeing the bees swarming the beehive, pressing a bottle of cold water to his dampen forehead to ease the fever he had developed out of fear.

"I swear I am brave," Beomgyu muttered under his breath, " I even ate bugs as a kid—"

"Yeah that's enough beomgyu," You swiftly put an end to his loony babbling before he could further embarrass himself in front of the beautiful lady who had helped you take him inside the workshop and had provided him with urgent care.

"Please don't mind my friend," You apologized on his stead, pressing the cold bottle to his lips, sealing it shut, "He's just squeamish about bugs," Beomgyu shoots a glare at you an instant, his neck audibly cracking at his rapid force. But you ignore his searing gaze in favor of mingling with the pretty lady in front of you.

The lady assured Beomgyu one last time that he wasn't the first one to get freaked out at the sight of all those bees together, and it's a completely normal reaction to have, before excusing herself to let him rest for a while, much to Beomgyu's dismay.

"You just hate me don't you?" Beomgyu shoots you a glare, "First bringing me here-"

"You were the only jobless one that could drive me here without raising any suspicion."

"And then making me look bad in front of that nice nurse!"

"I just spoke the truth!" You defended yourself, allowing yourself to lay back on the chair you had placed yourself in beside the single bed, " You did faint!"

"Couldn't you have made it sound cooler?!"

"And lie?"

"Precisely!" Beomgyu who had forgotten that he had gotten dizzy, and fell backwards on the ground hitting the back of his head pretty hard, had suddenly the determination of an olympian representing his country as he, with a lot of "ouchies" and winces in similar note, sat on on the bed facing kai's girlfriend, and currently his formidable foe.

"Lie about what?"

"Beomgyu not fainting at the sight of bees." You replied rapidly with a scoff prior to the tone of the voice registering in your head, and realizing who it belonged to.

You whipped your head around to see none other than your very own boyfriend—the one who you were hiding from as you planned to surprise him with the thoughtful organic gift—kai, while holding a basket full of strawberries.

"Kai?" You yelled in shock, but it came out more like a question as you narrowed your eyes behind your glasses trying to assess the possibility of your boyfriend being real, and not an entity of your subconscious appearing before you.

You also noticed a large figure of the man behind Kai,who was trying his best to appear invisible, and it all became all too real as the math started to make sense in your head, all of a sudden.

One plus two indeed meant that Soobin had failed to keep his big mouth shut, and snitched on you.

"Before you get mad I can explain," Soobin spluttered, emerging out of Kai's shadow. His hands flailed around as he tried to get you to listen to him before you start to berate him for something which he admits he had done; but Soobin swears he had a reason.

"Your reason is that was around here and so you wanted to ruin his girlfriend's surprise for him?"

Soobin winced—his nose scrunched up as he listened to you,the taste of his own actions appearing too bitter for him when you summarized it for him

"Well then Beomgyu texted me that he got injured."

"He was exaggerating," Kai laughed as he sat beside beomgyu, pinching the blanket between his index finger and thumb, reminding you of his attendance; it made your blood boil to have your sweet little surprise being trampled by two giant buffoons.

"And your surprise is still intact my love," Kai exclaimed, turning his body to look at you. His hands glided on the bed to approach yours, but you quickly hid them inside your crossed arms—eyes boring into his as you silently grilled him to come clean.

"I swear!" Kai lied once again, throwing his hands up in the air in his defense, "actually it's my surprise that got spoiled."

"Poor Kai," Soobin, the loose lipped traitor, sighed from the sideways.

He quickly shut himself up when you shot him the umpteenth number of glares, and excused himself to the bathroom, as you turned your attention to your boyfriend, and his apparent spoiled surprise.

"What surprise?" You inquired, your body still leaning away from his touch, as you situated yourself on the other side of the bed.

Beomgyu had his head hidden by the blanket, and refused to come out of it to even breathe right after Kai appeared with Soobin because of his weak, unsavory moment of helplessness when he was being treated by the woman of his dreams: Beomgyu's own words.

"Wait!" Kai's sparkled as he clapped his hands," That means you don't know!"

You rolled your eyes, the corner of your lips curling upwards in a distasteful scorn.

"I knew it, you were lying."

"Was not!" Kai exclaimed, his head swinging back as though he had just been accused of perjury, the opaque sparkles swimming in his waterline.

"I wanted you to surprise you with my hand picked strawberries!" He held up the straw basket, filled with delectable strawberries before your eyes, before setting it between the two of you.

"Really?" you asked, the distasteful anger in your heart simmering away little by little at his endearingly childish antics, "Why surprise me though?"

Your fingers finding themselves picking up a sweet looking strawberry, tearing it through your teeth as the dulcet juices of the fruit, mixed with your lover's effort touched the tip of your tongue.

"Because I love you."

"You knew didn't you? Soobin told you, didn't he?"

Kai pressed his lips on a thin line as a color mimicking the shade of the strawberries he had picked bloomed onto the apple of his cheeks, his hands brushing the back of his head, nodding meekly.

" I will kill him later," You said, picking up the basket and replacing it with yourself—inching closer to him and placing your chins on his chest, looking up at him.

"Right now let me bask in your cuteness."

author's note / low key a comeback?

PERM TAGLIST— @full-sunnies @impureperhaps @wonioml @1921choi

©ITGIRLGYU 2023,, feedbacks are appreciated!

#huening kai #huening kai fluff #huening kai scenarios #huening kai imagines #huening kai drabble #huening kai x reader #huening kai x you #txt x you #huening kai fic #huening kai one shot #txt x reader #txt fic #txt fluff #txt one shot #txt drabble #txt headcanons #huening kai headcanons #txt funny #txt crack #beomgyu funny #beomgyu #soobin #taehyun #yeonjun #beomgyu drabble #beomgyu one shot #beomgyu fic #tomorrow x together reactions #huening kai reactions #txt reactions

[carrie-organa]

Here’s How I Would’ve Ended Ted Lasso

My version includes:

actually acknowledging Keeley’s importance and making Roy not a creep.

actually calling Ted out for his weird ass behavior. This guy is depressed and no one ever asks him about his horrible self esteem issues.

Here, take it before I go insane.

Ted’s Storyline

The team would talk about Ted’s decision and there would be a debate about it. Sam and Jamie agree that he should go home to his son (for different but obvious reasons). Colin and Isaac believe strongly in found family and don’t understand why Ted choosing his son has to mean him abandoning them. Jamie’s perspective is changed. They have a good point.

Rebecca’s storyline in general was odd this episode. Her constantly reaching out to Ted and him shutting her down is so stupid and at odds with their relationship.

I would’ve had Ted explain his decision when she’s giving him her “You go, I’ll go” speech. Talk about his dad and bring up the 9/13 connection. WHY WAS THIS NEVER ACKNOWLEDGED.

Ted saying that not only does Henry miss him, no one here needs him anymore. He’s given them every tool he can think of and there’s nothing left for him to do. There’s nothing else he can give them.

side note: I think this is really at the root of Ted’s issues and I’m flabbergasted that no one calls him on it. He only feels like he should stay in situations where he’s needed. He never stays somewhere because he wants to be there. He’s the traveling salesman of optimism.

Rebecca: You’re right Ted, maybe we don’t need you to remind us to have hope or to believe in ourselves. To reach for happiness. But just because we no longer need you does not mean you are not wanted. Are you happy here? Ted: It’s not that simple. Henry— Rebecca: Yes, I know about Henry, and I completely understand your concerns. I’m asking you if you’re happy here. You, Ted Lasso, the man, not the coach or the father. Are. You. Happy. Ted (bursting with it): Yes. Of course I am. I never thought I’d have an experience like this in my life. It doesn’t seem real. It feels like I fell asleep and I’m going to wake up in exactly the same place I started when I woke up. But I can’t leave Henry. I can’t abandon my son because I like my job. That’s not fair to him.

Ted’s weird detachment would’ve been addressed during the game. The team’s first half wasn’t effected by them crying over Beard’s video but rather by Ted’s refusal to coach them anymore.

Ted: I’m not gonna give y’all a pep talk. Jamie: why the FUCK not? why are you checking out? (puppy dog eyes) what did we do wrong? Ted: deer in the headlights. Turns to Beard and Roy for help. They don’t offer any. They’re wondering the same thing.

No one is disputing that there’s an issue with Ted’s situation. It hurts to be away from his son, it hurts Henry to be away from his dad. HOWEVER — the only solution isn’t to go home and leave everyone behind.

Ted makes some kind of analogy to ties in football games. Sometimes there are no-win scenarios and you just have to accept it. Roy: that���s bullshit.

The episode is about Ted losing sight of his own philosophy and the people who love him reminding him of it. Restoring his sense of belief and optimism. Telling him not to accept a no-win scenario.

The RoyKeeleyJamie of it all

Roy’s obsession with getting Keeley back when she keeps pushing him away is cringey. Someone needs to ask him why he’s being so insistent. I choose Rebecca.

Rebecca: if you don’t explain yourself right now I’m sending you to HR. I’ve never seen you act like this.

After Jamie/Keeley hug

Roy: what were you talking to Keeley about? Jamie: none of your business, mate. Roy (still an insecure bean): Are you guys…getting back together? Jamie (furrowed brows): No? I just asked if she would go on a business trip to New Zealand with me. Make sure I don’t get thrown out of the entire country hitting on the Prime Minister. Roy (unable to help himself): She’s not PM anymore. Jamie: Hm. Shame. Well, she’s still fit. Jamie makes it clear he’s not interested in starting anything with Keeley, after Mom City he knows he really needs to work on himself before he can date anybody. The perspective is very much side-eying Roy, who has decided to ignore all of his issues.

WHY HAS NO ONE ASKED KEELEY WHAT SHE WANTS.

Roy and Jamie still go to a bar. Still end up at Keeley’s door. But this time not because they were fighting over her (because cringe. even though both of them have feelings for her, they respect her autonomy). No, this time, Roy got fucking pissed and he’s being a sad sack and refuses to go home so Jamie followed him to Keeley’s to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.

Jamie: Roy, mate, let’s go home. We’ll get a kebab on the way. Roy: No, I just…I just need to know what I’m doing wrong. Please. Keeley: Roy… Roy: If you just tell me then I can fix it! Keeley: It isn’t you! (off Roy) It’s not. I promise. I just…I keep ending up in these intense, whirlwind relationships, and I can’t jump into another one again. Not yet. Not until I know it’s going to end up differently. Because I swear to god, Roy, if I lose you again (tearing up) I will not survive it. I barely survived it the first time. Roy: me too… Jamie (cannot handle uncomfortable situations): Yeah me neither, if I’m honest. (off looks from them both) WHAT? You were both so sad and quiet. Well, this one’s always quiet (gesture to Roy) but it was different. It was weird. I saw him crying in his car once. Roy: I was not crying in the car… Jamie: Yes you were! I saw you wipe a tear! Keeley: BOYS! (they’re exhausting. it’s late. she wants to stop being ambushed into these emotional conversations). something about how her type is clearly smoking hot, intense brunettes (check the math — Jamie, Roy, Jack). Preferably by a cheeky Jamie as he leads a quiet Roy to an uber.

The season has not set up Roy and Keeley to get back together. It just hasn’t. But I think it has set up Keeley to acknowledge how much Roy means to her and to explain why she’s skittish about getting back together with him right now. I think she wants to give him a chance, it’s just going to take some time.

I’d like to see a scene with just the two of them where Keeley asks him not to give up, please. Because that’s Roy’s issue, he quits while he’s ahead and he gives up because it’s easier than getting really hurt. He’s putting himself out there, and I love that because growth, but I think there needs to be an acknowledgment that he’s gone about it wrong.

Roy: I know that I’ve been a right fucking twat with all this badgering and I apologize. I know it’s all too little, too late and you’ve moved on. I do want to be friends, if you’ll let me. I just can’t handle another year where you’re not a part of my life. It’s unbearable. Keeley: It really was. Roy: If you want to get coffee sometime, or something (call back to when he asked her out in S1), just let me know. It won’t be a date. Just as friends. Keeley (nodding, equal parts relieved and disappointed): Okay. Roy walks away, they’re in the car park. Keeley calls his name and runs up to him. Kisses his cheek. Obviously there’s still something there, but they’re just gonna have a different start this time. A slow build, rather than an intense start.

Miscellaneous Complaints:

I would’ve added at least another 20 minutes to the finale. How the team reacts to Ted leaving. And I think he should leave, I think he should go back to Kansas and there should be a little time jump. Michelle tells him she knows he’s unfulfilled, Henry saying he misses visiting him in Richmond. This decision is good for literally no one when you actually see it through. It’s a nice gesture but ultimately it’s meaningless.

The way Nate is just there is so unsatisfying to me. He’s such an important character in the show and the finale paid him dust.

What happened with Bex and the other girl when they spoke to Rebecca? There was no resolution there.

BEARD AND JANE ARE NOT COUPLE GOALS. Why does the narrative simultaneously acknowledge that she straight up sucks but never give Beard the push to leave her???? I just straight up do not get it.

In conclusion, I see the vision but the execution was horrible and I don't understand how this is supposed to stick the landing. I genuinely believe they'll announce a Richmond spinoff, especially given Ted's note on Trent's manuscript. Although I do not think that the team's future is anything like the one Ted dreamt about on the plane. Those were the wishes he had for them. I look forward to reading the fics where he's dead wrong and Rebecca drags him back by his moustache hair

#ted lasso #ted lasso spoilers #roykeeley #keeley jones #roy kent #rebecca welton #tedbecca

[jerzwriter]

Tension

This magnificent artwork was a commission from the incredible @/artbyainna. This left me breathless! Look at that lighting! Look at them! I love seeing my little people come to life!

I hope you enjoy this beautiful piece, and the accompanying story too! It's nice to take a little break from the angst in my WTD World.

Book:                Wake the Dead

Pairing:            Eli Sipes x F!MC (Zoe Rivera); feat. Troy Hassan

Rating:             Teen

Category:        Fluff / Friends to lovers / Pining

Summary:       On a rare afternoon of respite, the colonists all find a way to unwind... except for Eli and Zoe. Taking the opportunity to perfect their skills leaves them anything but relaxed.

Words:             2035

A/N:   I imagine this scene to take place just before the trip to the amusement park in Chapter 10. These two are fighting a hell of a lot more than zombies. :) Participating in @choicesjanuarychallenge - Day 17 - Relax

WTD Masterlist Full Masterlist

It was an unusually quiet afternoon at the lodge. The colonist’s hard work had paid off: fortifications and watch crews were keeping the drones at bay, and the gardens and livestock left the pantry full. With daily chores out of the way,  most were free to enjoy a rare afternoon of tranquility.

Troy reclined on one of the couches, humming quietly as he took in the scene around him. Shannon sat nearby, gripping an old magazine she had found as if it were the holy grail. Published around the time of the outbreak’s start, she was adamant it could contain something to help her research. In a distant corner, Minna was setting up a table with May, who was eagerly prepping a tea party for her stuffed animals. Seeing his friends relaxed and experiencing joy… just as he was… brought a smile to his face. And then… there was Eli….

Troy fully expected to find him crouched in front of the fireplace, working on his bow or doing something else… productive. To Troy’s dismay, that’s how Eli defined “resting.” But today, Troy was amused, watching his friend surreptitiously as he hurriedly walked in and out of the room at least half a dozen times. Stretching his neck in every direction, Eli was definitely searching for something. Troy could have asked what he was looking for… as if he didn’t already know… but this was much more fun. Entertainment like this didn’t come along daily, and Troy wasn’t about to let it end too quickly. But on Eli’s sixth go-round, Troy took pity on him.

“Looking for something, Eli?”

Eli turned gruffly in his direction. “What makes you say that?”

“You’ve been in and out of here six times… you’re either looking for something or working up the nerve to ask me to take my night watch shift tonight… any chance on that?” Troy begged, using his best puppy-dog eyes. They might have worked on half of the colonists in Olympus but on Eli… not a chance.

“Keep dreaming, Hassan.”

“So then you are looking for something….” Troy winked. “Or better yet, someone….”

“I didn’t say I was. I….”

“She went outside… mentioned something about going to the range for target practice on the one afternoon we get some downtime!”  Troy shook his head with disgust and pointed a finger Eli’s way. “I hold you responsible for this! She used to be fun. Now, look at her!”

Eli did his best to suppress a smirk. Shrugging his shoulders, he strode past his lounging friend.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” he replied straight-faced.

“Yeah, my ass,” Troy yelled after him. 

“Troy… I will never be looking for your ass,” he mocked before heading out the front door.

The moment the fresh air hit him, his feet carried him swiftly in the direction of the range. He was moving at twice his normal speed, though there was no need to rush. No drones were on the property, and no one needed immediate protection. His chores were done, so he wasn’t completing a task. Still, just the slightest bit faster, the man would have been running. Even the elders from Sunflower Creek seated on the porch commented on it. Eli couldn’t help but overhear… then his mind went into overdrive.

This is just how he walked, he tried to convince himself. There was nothing suspicious about it. He was headed to practice himself and wanted to get there before the sun went down. Of course, the sun wasn’t setting for another five hours… but still. There was no reason to be suspect. None at all.

As he neared the range, he could hear the twang of her bow as an arrow released, then seconds later, the dull thud of a target being hit. He waited patiently for the next sound; there could only be one of two outcomes… and a smile crossed his lips when it was the one he had hoped for.

“Yes!” Zoe cheered. Followed but a string of happy little noises Eli couldn’t describe if he tried.

But another sound broadened his smile and made his heart race…. silence. She was alone, and while he’d reprimand her for being unsafe later, for now, he was delighted… Zoe all to himself. He almost surrendered to the rush that washed over him, but without warning, that voice was back in his head. 

What does it matter if she’s alone? She’s not why I’m here. I’m going to practice. Zoe being here is good because we can offer each other tips. If someone else was there, that would just be more input. This means nothing. Nothing at all. His head may have listened, but his heart hadn’t heard a word, and Eli cursed it for continuing to hammer in his chest. This. Meant. Nothing.

Zoe was startled when she heard footsteps approaching through the brush, raising her bow in preparation.

“It’s me,” Eli hollered, “Don’t shoot.”

Her bright smile appeared naturally when she saw who it was, but she quickly turned it into a coy little smirk by her own design.

“Not so much fun to be on the other side. Is it, Mr. Sipes?”

“Are we ever going to stop talking about that?” he deadpanned, but Zoe was astute, and she didn’t miss the smile in his eyes.

“Absolutely never!”

He walked blithely past her and settled down on a large rock to prepare his bow. Zoe’s eyes trailed his every move, returning to shooting? It wasn’t even a thought. She didn’t flinch when he looked up, catching her in the act, and only a slight blush rose to her cheeks when he raised his eyebrows in question.

“Yes? Do you need something?”

“Oh… so, so many things,” she chirped, not missing a beat.

His lips twitched as he turned back to his bow, looking anyplace but at her. He tested the strings before standing.

“It sounded like you had a good shoot when I was walking down here.”

“Of course I did! I’m good!” she boasted, chest sticking out with pride… how he tried not to notice.

“Yes,” he chuckled, and now her heart was racing. She couldn’t describe how she felt when she made Mr. Grumpy laugh or smile, breaking that cold façade. All she knew was it was intoxicating, and each time it happened, she desperately craved more. “You are good,” he continued. “Very good. One day, you may even be great.”

“Oh,” she teased, slinking over in his direction. “And what’s standing between me and greatness?”

He all but lost his ability to think, though he knew he needed to come up with a response. He could just turn around and aim for the target, ignoring what she had just said, but at the moment… he had forgotten how.

“I.. uh… I mean… you…”

“Don’t worry,” Zoe laughed. “I know what I need… even if you don’t.”

“Oh, and what is it that you need?”

“I need to perfect my shot with a standard bow,” she offered immediately, “That’s why I’m here. Most of my training back at the tower was with a crossbow, and I rock the crossbow. But there are differences, and I want to improve there.”

“There are differences. And lucky for you, the traditional bow is my specialty.”

“Oh, I know,” she winked. “That’s why this is my lucky day.”

Her heart fluttered when he smiled again, she could tell he was trying to fight it, but he didn’t stand a chance. Again, she was left yearning.

“Come over here,” he demanded, and she quickly complied. “Now, get into stance. Remember, your feet need to be parallel to the shooting line.”

Zoe glanced over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. “I’m not a complete idiot, Eli.”

“I didn’t suggest… I’m just taking it from the top!”

“And I’m just teasing you,” she giggled.

“Zoe, if you want to perfect your shot, you should take it more seriously.”

For a split second, she almost felt embarrassed, but only for a second. Her sass was quick to return.

“And if you want me to perfect my shot, perhaps you should show me and just bark orders,” she goaded.

“Fine!”

She assumed he’d get into position, raise his bow, and pull the string with godlike precision. They’d watch his arrow fly through the air like the work of art it was until it hit his desired target… dead on. That’s what she thought would happen. Instead, she gasped silently when she felt his hands on her waist.

“Get into position,” he commanded, and her mind went numb.

Somehow, she managed to raise her bow. Her shirt rose a bit when she lifted her arms. Suddenly the sensation of the rough pads of his fingers brushing against the delicate skin took her breath away.

“Now, turn a little more. Just like this,” he instructed, twisting her the slightest bit to the side.

She wondered if he felt like she did right now, and if her heart wasn’t thumping, she would have felt his pounding against her back. For his part, being this close to her was doing things he hadn’t fully expected; the feeling was overwhelming. But Eli’s game face was unrivaled, and, despite the longing of every fiber of his being, he presented a somber, almost stone-like effect.

“Now, relax your knees….”

Was he kidding? If she relaxed her knees, she was quite confident she’d dissolve into a puddle at his feet.

“Right… relax…” she muttered. 

She was flustered, and he saw it. A chill ran throughout his body, and Eli was uncertain. Was he winning or losing?  

“Your shoulders should be a little more in line with your bow arm,” he began, “and you want to use your back muscles to aim….”

He hadn’t finished his sentence when her back muscles aimed for their intended target, lying flush against his chest. Neither of them could breathe, and if not for the sould of the gentle breeze rustling through the trees, they would have believed that time stood still. Each waiting, in silence….

“Try shooting,” he blurted. He had to say something.

And she did… instantly… without a single thought. The ping of her bow was followed by silence as her arrow flew through the air, ultimately falling to the ground. But Eli hadn’t moved at all, and neither had she.

“Well…” she stammered.  “That totally sucked.”

The two broke out into a fit of nervous laughter, still leaning in closer to one another when interrupted by an approaching voice.

“Eli! Zoe!” Angel called.

“Over here,” Zoe shot back. “What’s going on.”

“There’s a brawl breaking out in the kitchen,” Angel said breathlessly. “I don’t even know what it’s about. All I know is even Feather looked like he was ready to flip out.”

“Oh, that can’t be good,” Zoe chuckled.

“It’s not. That’s why Troy said I should go get you….”

“Oh, Troy sent you,” Eli sneered.

Angel scrunched her brow in confusion, “Uh.. yeah… I mean, is that a problem… or….”

“No, it’s not a problem at all,” Zoe said, gathering her things. “Let’s head back now.”

“Yeah,” Eli scoffed. “I’ll handle Troy later.”

The three made their way back to the lodge, with Angel running ahead. Trailing behind, Zoe looked up at Eli with a coquettish grin.

“Yes?” Eli acknowledged with a raised brow.

“I just think I was really getting it back there,” she grinned. “We’ll need to do it again soon. I think I’m perfecting my shot.”

“Really? I wouldn’t say that based on your last one,” he half-smiled.

“I don’t know,” she said, starting up the steps. “I think certain good things could be said about it.”

“Like what?

“Like….” Zoe opened the door, and they could hear the clamoring and chaos at once. “Oh, my….” She sighed.

“It’s probably best you tell me some other time…” he smiled. “It looks like you’re needed in the kitchen.”

“Me… needed in the kitchen,” she laughed. “Words I never thought I’d hear!”

“I’ve gotta admit,” he smirked. “Neither did I.  Perhaps I should join you.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want any cooking breaking out with me unattended.”

“Lead the way,” he grinned, “then when I’m done… I’ll handle Troy.”

Permatags: @a-crepusculo @animesuck3r @annoyingmillenialnewbie @crazy-loca-blog @fayeswiftie @differenttyphoonwerewolf @doriopenheart @genevievemd @gryffindordaughterofathena @inlocusmads @jamespotterthefirst @jennieausten @kingliam2019 @liaromancewriter @lucy-268 @onikalover @openheartforeverinmyheart @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @secretaryunpaid @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter-reblogs-asks @choicesficwriterscreations

WTD: @cariantha @kyra75 @lilyoffandoms @missameliep

#wake the dead #wake the dead choices #eli sipes #eli sipes x f!mc #eli sipes fanfic #troy hassan #choices fanfic #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #wake the dead fanart #choices fanart #artbyainna #playchoices fanart #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #chocies monthly challenge

[0bsess-wrld]

Jealous! The 4 main boys of ringo and their S/o

What am I doing with my life lmao

Edd

okay this man couldn’t even believe that he was jealous of his own cat taking up his and s/o cuddle time.

Would get really pouty for not getting his own cuddles, and would pretend not to care but once he was tired of just waiting for his own cuddles he would be like

“Baby, can I get some cuddles too? You’ve been cuddling ringo for like half and hour now, A-and I want some cuddles to..it’s not really fair…”

But when Edd told you that you immediately knew he was jelly of you and his own cat ( lmao) and let’s just say ringo wasn’t to happy of this sudden change of attention.

To be honest they both nearly got into a fight but you managed to give Edd cuddles and as well with ringo

Needless to say it turned from jealousy into a wholesome moment.

Tom

Honestly this man would not just be jealous this man would pissed as hell. although he wouldn’t be pissed at you he’d be pissed at ringo for just jumping into you arms before he actually got some sort of affection from you.

Tbh he would just ignore you both for an hour an half before he deemed it to long and sat on the floor near your legs and hugged you waist and was like

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but…Can you please give me attention? I’ve been waiting patiently for you to give some affection and I’m kind of tired of waiting already…so can you?”

You’ve never been shocked like this at all especially with tom since Tom is usually that kind of person that’s constantly done with everything and everyone well except you ofc but without hesitation you gave in but ringo didn’t want a shift of affection ringo herself started tugging at your shirt but that wasn’t enough she would climb on top of you and start trying to get your attention but if that didn’t work let’s just say Tom would possibly have to say hi to Jesus for you and ringo because ringo would demolish his ass not literally tho but let’s just say it would not end up well for is poor face

( poor Tom is always getting attacked/scratched by cats)

But let’s just say ringo got her cuddles and Tom would be needing a lot bandages.

But you’d give him twice as the amount of affection that he wanted since you felt pretty bad for what happened to his poor face

Endless to say Tom never bothered you while you where petting ringo ever again

Jealousy turned into instant regret real quick

Matt

Oh boy this man is a total simp for you but he’ll have to catch somewhat of your attention

Ringo would just stare at him like “ wtf is you looking at bitch”/death glare and Matt would be acting like he would severely hurt emotionally and would get your attention every quickly lmao

He’s very good at acting this mf would be like

“Y/N! Do you still love me!? Please tell me you do! If so can’t I please have cuddles now????”

Matt would literally give you puppy dog eyes begging for attention from someone who he loves and worship almost like a god in a way and you did but ringo was not having it and tried attacking Matt but you were quick enough to stop her from attacking Matt. (Thank god) but he still want attention even if it meant if ringo was there on your lap so to make it fair you would have to pet ringo and cuddle Matt which was a bit difficult but you managed! :)))

Jealousy turned into a cuddling and petting session

Tord

Cuddle Competition is like a war

Tord can’t help like the rest of the boys but to feel Upset about ringo having the spotlight of their s/o but this man..

Literally doesn’t giving a flying shit to say the least..this might sound brutal

but he’ll just pick ringo up and yeet her to Tom and if ringo comes back and attempts to attack him and you stop her then he’ll use other methods that aren’t brutal like lightly pushing ringo off your lap or smth but he’ll just get more annoyed so he’ll be just like:

" Uff! Min kjærlighet! Can I have cuddles with you?? This annoying ass cat is just taking our precious cuddles time! Can't you do something like get rid of it? This cat is getting on my nerves much more than Jehovah's Witnesses does! Grm! Can you simply just cuddle me? Please Kjære jeg ber deg om å..“

MF would be desperate af for your attention like just give this man some love! 😩

So in the end tord just sat next to you and cuddle into the croak in your neck as you gently stroked his face he started to doze off and which you did as well and like any other cat Ringo did to.

Violent to wholesome lol

#eddsworld x reader #relationship jealousy lol #cute #i love my husband #sorry lol

[moon-spirit-yue]

Rayaari family headcanons for funsies:

(Raya kept freaking out that Aulia would be some mutant half dragon baby because of the dragon magic and was super relieved when she ended up being a completely normal human)

Raya was so nervous about being a mom but her and Aulia became literal besties immediately

Aulia wrapped her whole hand around Raya’s finger when she was like five minutes old and Raya knew she would die for that baby

Namaari absolutely adored Aulia the second she knew about her

Namaari will be holding baby Aulia and then just start crying because of how happy she is

She is so excited to be a mom

AULIA’S FIRST WORD IS BINTURI

Aulia popped out the womb looking like Namaari and Raya was SO pissed

Raya punches Namaari every time someone says Aulia looks like her

Aulia snores just like Raya does and it brings Namaari so much joy (both Raya and Aulia claim they don’t snore)

Aulia has the most lethal puppy dog eyes in all of Kumandra

She got them from Raya. It’s really the only physical similarity people can see

Everyone hoped Benja had built up an immunity to the puppy eyes, but he is a weak man. Even Virana can’t say no to her grandbaby

The only person that is resistant is Raya

“Cmon Ma, pretty please?” “Oh put those eyes away. You’re very cute, I can’t lie, but I know those eyes. I invented those eyes” “Worth a shot”

Basically the only reason why Aulia hasn’t accomplished world domination is Raya

When Namaari is faced with the eyes she has to look away in order to not succumb to her child’s adorable face

If Raya and Aulia work together by using their puppy dog eyes at the same time it’s over for Namaari she has no choice but to give them whatever their heart’s desire

Aulia was a chaotic child that mellowed out in her teen years

That girl was on the MOVE

She wanted to do everything all the time at all hours of the day

Aulia inherited the dragon nerd gene

For a short period of time, if she owned something without a dragon on it it was shoved in a closet

Dragons ONLY

Aulia loves Sisu so much and Sisu was just so excited when Aulia was born

They’re the dream team

Benja and Virana would argue all the time over who gets to watch Aulia

“Uh, you got her yesterday, today is my turn” “Is one day truly enough time with this absolute angel?” “Guys please she is not a toy”

Aulia is the favorite of everyone

“Hey Ma! We’re here!” “Namaari, you’re blocking my baby, move it”

Aulia is unintentionally the sassiest child ever created

Raya has to walk away so that her child doesn’t see her laughing her ass off

Namaari loves telling Aulia stories

She even acts them out to entertain Aulia

They’re just some cutie pies living the good life

#raya and the last dragon #ratld #rayaari #namaari #raya x namaari #namaari x raya #raya and namaari #ratld namaari #raya disney #ratld raya

[robin-in-the-tulip-tree]

The Haunting of Skyhold: a Dragon Age Inquisition Fic

prologue:

Perhaps the scariest ghost stories are the ones where nobody’s dead.

A/N: please excuse any typographical errors; I am writing this with the assistance of a rambunctious puppy and he can’t read. I don’t have the heart to tell him he’s not helping. There will be swearing. There might be smut.  I don’t entirely know how this will go; I haven’t done fanfic since I was a teenager, and I am an old. To hell with caveats, however.  Let’s ride.

The air in Skyhold lacked its usual purposeful hum, and Lyn Trevelyan was relieved as hell about it.  For one thing, the dawn was still in its infancy, crawling over the crest of the Frostback Mountains.  It was too damn early by half for all but the gentlest of sounds.  For another it had been a whirlwind tour of nightmares, at times in a very literal sense.  Lyn was exhausted, but mercifully every living soul in that keep (and Cole) were exhausted as well.  Between stopping a demon army in both the Western Approach and Adamant Castle, and literally, physically, plummeting off a crumbling battlement straight into the Fade itself, there was a raw, numb, hung-over feeling throughout the Inquisition’s forces that only a serious time of rest and recuperation could fix.  

The final shock of the week however, she bore alone.  

Well, not entirely. But in every way that mattered.  

When she awoke to find an empty bed and a note pinned to the carving he was working on, Lyn was very clearly alone.  And throughout the crisis that saw the man she loved, no matter what his name was, arrested and sentenced to hang, she was still very much alone.  Leliana had obliged when Lyn begged her to come up with a plan, but by the looks that were exchanged around the war table, there was a palpable disappointment, a visible loss of respect.  

Thom Rainier had returned to her still chained, with a shiner that matched his gambeson, and a beard that was far more crazed than usual.  He spent that night in Skyhold’s dungeons, partially for his own safety.  He was thankful for the iron bars between them when Lyn had come down to yell at him.  If not for the firmly locked door, it was more than likely she would have thrown her staff down and personally beat his ass.  Which he thoroughly deserved.  

She had said some regrettable things to him, anyway.  Cursed him for a son of a bitch for lying to the Inquisition, and then again for lying to her, and then a few more times.  Then she turned it around on herself.  

“How could I have believed you?  How did anyone believe you? But especially me! I met some jackass in the woods calling himself a Grey Warden and I decided, gee, what a wonderful thing to do with my time, how about I fall for him. Great fucking idea.  Best I’ve had since signing up to go to that Maker-damned Conclave. And that was before I found out that everything you told me from the word ‘go’ was a bald faced lie.”

All he had to say for himself was “That’s fair.” 

“And it’s not the killing, dammit.  Everyone on this shitty mountain has a kill count.  Josephine’s killed before! It wasn’t what you did, it’s that you fucking had to lie about it.  And you were just going to disappear into the night, be arrested, and eventually hanged instead of looking me square in the eye and owning up.  You’re no kind of man.”

Lyn didn’t know whether to hold him or hex him, kiss him or slap that damn lugubrious hound-dog look off his face.  But he was back.  And before she could do any of those things, she’d have to put him on trial.  In public.  In front of the Maker, Andraste, and everyone.  The very thought made Lyn feel queasy.

It was hard enough to carry the burden of her authority on any ordinary occasion, whether “banishing” an Avvar chieftain to Tevinter for lobbing goats at her walls, or sentencing the mayor of Crestwood to life in prison in Denerim for drowning half his town.  In the end, she was only a woman, after all, who had lived for 43 quiet years as an unremarkable mage, and four very wild months figuring out how to be a big damn hero.  So taking the throne to yield justice with all of Thedas watching, especially with Blackwa--Thom, excuse me, was the defendant, seemed beyond the beyonds.  Would she be forgiven by her people for not being perfectly, stoically impartial?  And more importantly, did she give a damn?  She at least had to pretend to, right?  

There was a small tendril of smoke rising to the sky from a valley not far away, barely visible through the mist.  Lyn noted it with some curiosity.  Not many came through this part of the Frostbacks on purpose, especially alone.  She imagined she smelled woodsmoke, but it was probably bacon being charred beyond recognition by the cook.  Skyhold would be stirring soon enough.  Stirring slowly, she hoped.  Lyn would have paid any amount of money for just one blessed uneventful day.  

#blackwall x inquisitor #blackwall x trevelyan #dragon age inquisition #fanfic #prologue #fine dammit i hope you're all happy #boss makes a dollar i make a dime #so i write fanfic on company time

[cosmicbash]

steve asks eddie abt the different genres of rock/metal and eddie is just absolutely passionate abt it, filled with his hand gestures and enthusiastic smiles, but steve ends up not paying attention to what comes out of eddie’s lips bc steve’s focus zeroed in on eddie’s excited puppy dog eyes. but that’s okay bc eddie will gladly repeat everything as long as it’s steve

"So uh... you're like a musical guy right? You like...music?"

It was just supposed to be some small talk to pass the time. An innoccuous question plucked from about a hundred other boring ones like "hows the weather?" "Got any plans for the day?" "Go fish?"

But no. Steve just had to settle on music. The one topic that surely a metal head donned in little handmade band patches and sewn on logos to his denim jacket could never resist. And he regrets it for a moment. For that split second it spits out of his mouth to break the uncomfortable silence fallen over the two of them in the empty boathouse ever since the rest of the group left to hunt for more vecna clues and he was sat with babysitting duty yet again.

But then Eddie Munson's big brown doe eyes had dragged away from the ricketly plank for and met his dead on for the first time in over a half hour. Wide and not at all hiding the obvious shift in his mood from anxiety ridden and hopeless straight over to hyperfixation appreciation.

"Do I like music? I'm in a literal band and you're gonna ask if I like music Harrington?" Eddie somehow manages to make those patronizing questions sound playful though. His voice brimmimg with barely hidden excitement over being given a topic to take his mind off of the shitty state of his life.

"Okay, wrong way to word it I guess." Steve's teeth are gnawing the inside of his cheek, but that regret over the conversation isn't quite peaking just yet. And really they can't sit here in panicked silence, he'll wind up overthinking and jumping someone with a knife next too. "But I meant like, you're into rock, or metal or whatever, pretty much the same thing right? So uh, what's that...like?"

"The same freaking thing?? Has Hawkins king finally developed dementia in his time away from school navigating the world of adulthood?" Eddie's laugh definitely feels mocking this time, but Steve finds himself perking up a bit in relief at the glimmer the other mans words show of his usual dramatic and loud mouthed self that Steve remembers terrorizing people in the cafeteria back in the day. "If you said that in a record shop you'd get thrown out on your ass before you can finish spelling the band who released Murmur!"

"Murmur?"

"Oh my god!" Steve felt a little foolish as Eddie took that particular confused mumbel straight to his heart. Body dropping back against the boat house wall rather dramatically. "He doesn't know who REM are yet. He hasn't heard of one of the newest bands out there pioneerring the way to a whole new genre of fucking rock and roll-"

"Newest? Wait so they're not even like big yet? Like Duran Duran?"

"LIKE DURAN DURAN!" That sent Eddie's arms flying up in the air again. "Do you understand the complexities of musical genres at ALL Harrington?"

Settling in for a crash course on the history of rock and music itself was far from how Steve intended for them to pass the time but if it got Eddie out of that helpless funk and lighting up the bright way he is now, even just to make fun of him or flex his great "knowledge" over the topic, then Steve would have to say he couldn't be easily tempted to spend it a different way.

Even if most things the brunette said went in one ear and out the other while he got lost in all the new happy expressions and warm brown eyes batted his way during it.

#im half asleep #but i forced this out before i pass out for work #i havent written in a hot minute so forgive me but #eddie teaching steve about genres is so cute #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #asks

[wickedscribbles]

Groove To The Beat Of My Heart

Masterlist, Join the Taglist

Summary: Jack overhears something he shouldn't. Charles and Arthur scramble to cover their asses.

My first RDR2 commission and I don't think I could have had more fun with it! 💖 Thanks, friend.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Charles Smith (Third Person Omniscient -- switches between Charles and Arthur)

Rating: Explicit

Tags: modern AU, established relationship, married couple, fluff, flirting, pet names, teasing/banter, pet names, humor, healthy relationships, light angst, emotional hurt/comfort, past trauma, past abuse, explicit consent, Arthur is bi, dom/sub elements, hair pulling, smut, begging, praise kink, anal fingering, anal sex, body worship, dirty talk, shower sex, blowjobs

Word Count: 8.3K

If you like what I write and can afford to do so, please consider buying me a coffee! It would be much appreciated.

The sight of little Jack swinging his legs in the seat of Arthur’s pickup truck always amuses the man. Wedged between Arthur and Charles with the center console pushed back, there’s no denying that the boy loves riding in the dusty old behemoth, sitting up as straight as he can in an attempt to see over the dash. Abigail would throw an absolute fit if she knew he was riding without a carseat, but you could look all over this Earth and not find two more men devoted to the boy’s care. Even now as they hit a rough bump, Charles hurries to put an arm around Jack’s skinny shoulders, making sure he doesn’t bounce too far out of his seat. 

They’d been tasked with watching him for the day. John and Abigail had had their eye on a rather boozy fall festival for weeks now, and both had turned their prettiest puppy dog eyes to Charles and Arthur, asking if they could do them just the tiniest favor. 

It was hard not to laugh. Arthur remembered what it’d been like to be their age, itching at the opportunity to get off work and party with the masses. Nowadays he leaves the house for such occasions maybe once or twice a year, feeling his age in the morning when the hangover hits him. Though Charles is a little younger, he’s never been a fan of such social mingling, either. It’s just in his nature to stick closer to home, and that suits them both. 

So of course, they’d agreed to watch Jack. He’s a sweet, inquisitive kid at the age of four (and a half, as he likes to remind them). His favorite thing to do is to visit the animals, to be held up to the horses with their great sniffing, velvety noses. Or to toss handfuls of cracked corn to the hens, giggling as they gather at his feet before leaving again when the treats have been cleared. Sometimes if the weather’s damp, they’ll don their rubber boots and go on frog hunts, which the boy goes wild for. Nothing seems to please him more than to hold a wriggly frog up in both hands, chasing after it as it breaks free. 

Charles and Arthur delight in it, too. Though they’re satisfied with their life as it is – don’t want to add children to the mix, at least not right now – these interludes with Jack are entertaining. He’s a sweet boy, rarely fussing if things don’t go his way. Curious, smart, more likely to laugh than cry. Everything you could want from a little nephew, really. 

Before Jack is due to visit, a few things have to be done to prepare the house. It isn’t as if the two of them have guns and knives hanging from every surface, but Arthur’s diligent in making sure Jack can’t get into anything that might hurt him. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if Jack sustained an injury under his care, even if it was something as simple as a nick or scrape. So they move through the house like ghosts, sweeping slow over every surface, checking and double-checking. 

Occasionally something is brought up, like a staple or nail from under the couch, quickly disposed of. Leftover from some home improvement project or another. 

“Really oughta vacuum under this thing more often,” Arthur comments, lifting the couch with one hand. 

“Easy with the gun show there. Hot damn.” 

Charles’ voice comes from across the room. He’s peeking from the kitchen as Arthur’s frozen in place, couch still lifted, no effort involved as that bicep strains. 

“Aw, shut up,” Arthur mumbles, but they both know he’s blushing at the unexpected compliment. He lets the couch down easy. The vacuum is located, the rest of the mess dealt with. 

Their day with Jack had gone well, without incident. After many times coming to stay with Uncle Arthur and Charles, he has the routine down, knows everything fun to do there. Before bed the night before, they’d all watched It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, and today they’d picked a massive pumpkin from a local patch. Arthur carved while Jack handled the gut scooping, up to his elbows in the mess. Charles extracted the seeds for roasting, sending a bag home for John and Abigail. 

“Hope they ain’t too hungover,” Arthur muses, helping Jack locate his shoes as they get ready to go. “You know how John was the last time they went to one’a these things.” 

“I have a feeling they’ll keep themselves in check. Found it!” Charles answers from the other room. “One shoe.” He walks into the room, settling on the couch before Jack, and acts as if he means to put it on his own foot. “Finally.” 

“Noooo, Uncle Charles!” Jack howls with laughter. “It’s not gonna fit you!” 

“Oh.” Charles blinks, trying his best not to break into a grin. “Are you sure?” 

This only prompts more giggles. Charles finagles the lost shoe onto Jack’s foot as Arthur leans in the doorway, watching with something that can only be described as helpless affection. Charles always says he’s the type of man who would be terrible with kids. Claims he’d be an awful father, that he needs too much alone time to ever imagine having a baby. But looking at the two of them together now, Arthur can see it plain as day – Charles having a child of his own. He’s so nurturing and kind in everything he does, with everyone he cares for. 

“You coming?” comes Charles’ playful voice. “Don’t know if your truck would take kindly to me trying to drive her.” 

“Yeah, I’m comin’,” Arthur answers, blinking back into himself. “Sorry.” 

“Go on, Jack, we’re right behind you.” 

Charles opens the door for their little charge, and together they watch as the boy runs outside, kicking at the falling leaves. For a moment they linger there, taking a moment of quiet. It’s nice to have Jack around, but it’s strange to have a small person interrupting their usual energy, too. Charles laces his fingers in with Arthur’s, leaning in close to place his lips to the other man’s. Something gentle and soft, a kiss that a child wouldn’t feel scandalized to see. 

“C’mon, babygirl,” he purrs, teasing. “I ain’t touchin’ that truck’s gear shift. You know she hates me.” 

“She don’t hate you,” Arthur says with a grin, affection stirring strong in his chest. “Maybe you just don’t know how to please ‘er.” 

Charles only waves a hand in response, already out the door to tend to Jack. Arthur shakes his head, looking forward to what the two of them can do together when they drop the boy back off with his parents. 

—--------

John and Abigail are sitting out on the porch when the truck pulls up on the dirt path. Abigail, Arthur notes with amusement, is nursing a glass of water, and John’s sporting some serious eye bags. Though they move to stand as soon as the truck hits gravel, he has a feeling they did some heavy drinking the night before. Their big yellow Lab, Rufus, comes jogging up to the truck with his tail wagging. 

“There he is!” John exclaims, tossing his son up once Jack’s out of the cab. “Hey lil’ man!” 

“Hi, daddy!” 

“The heroes of the hour,” Abigail greets them, watching Jack sink his fingers into Rufus’ thick ruff of fur. “Thanks for doin’ this again, guys. We needed to get out.” 

“Now it looks like y’all need help gettin’ sober,” Arthur says, making sure her son isn’t listening. She only rolls her eyes, grinning nonetheless. Charles catches it too, shooting his husband a mischievous look. He knows that Arthur loves ribbing John in particular about this sort of thing, but that Abigail is like a sister too, and thus not immune to teasing. 

“Oh, hush. You know Jack’s a good kid, but you don’t have him all the time. A girl can miss gettin’ a little crazy,” says Abigail with a smirk. “Not too crazy, though. God, I’m gettin’ old.” She sighs, taking a sip of her water. “Did he have a good time?” 

“Reckon he did,” Arthur replies, watching as Charles kneels down in the driveway to receive sloppy Rufus kisses. “Went down to that pumpkin patch a few miles down the road. Oh – Charles roasted some of the seeds for ya. Got ‘em in the truck.” 

“Aw, jeez, Arthur,” Abigail pretends to complain. “Makin’ us look like bad parents, takin’ him to the pumpkin patch first.” She hits him playfully on the shoulder. “That reminds me. We got y’all some of that good apple cider whiskey as a thank you – let me grab it.” 

Arthur turns to watch Jack trailing a stick through the dirt for Rufus, who’s bent low to the ground, watching it with his tail wagging in excitement. 

“Now – get it!” he exclaims, throwing the stick with all the force he can manage. 

The dog takes off like a shot. His body is still lanky with the looks of a puppy, too much leg and not enough body, eager to find out where the fun new toy had gone. John watches the two with quiet amusement, leaning with his arms crossed against the side of Arthur’s ancient pickup. 

“Trust you didn’t get too shit-faced, Marston?” Arthur asks. 

“What, me?” John scoffs. “Nah. Had to hold up Abigail half the time. She had too much tequila and started cryin’ cause she was sad about winter.” He rolls his eyes as Charles lets out a deep laugh. “All the way through the first band.” John pitches his voice higher in a fair imitation of Abigail. “The leaves are fallin’ off, John! It’s only a matter of time! Jack’s gettin’ older and he’s gonna be grown!” 

“Aww, don’t give ‘er a hard time about that,” Arthur protests. “He’s your only boy.” 

“Yeah,” John relents, scuffing his boot in the dirt. “I know it.” 

From the porch Abigail herself appears, looking frustrated. “Can someone come in and lend a hand? John felt the need to put this stuff on the highest shelf and he knows I’m short –” 

“Comin’, I’m comin’,” John says, wearing a faint grin. “Hold onto your britches, little miss.” 

John straightens up, prompting the pickup to let out a groan. With a quick look to check that Jack’s still tussling with Rufus, he nods at Charles and Arthur to say he’ll only be a minute. Jack comes skidding over to where the two men stand, red-faced, scraps of leaves and debris in his hair and clothes from where he’d joined his dog on the ground. Rufus is, of course, at his heels, panting happily. 

“Look at you,” Charles remarks, leaning down to brush off Jack’s shirt. “Your mama’s gonna have a field day.” 

“What’s that mean?” Jack asks, his face innocent. 

“Oh, well, it just means that when she sees that your clothes are dirty she’s going to go through a lot of steps to wash them and get you clean,” he answers carefully. Not wanting to imply that his playtime would make Abigail upset – though she’d probably be at least somewhat annoyed. “Does that make sense?” 

“I guess so.” Jack wrinkles his nose. “I have another question.” 

“Okay, kid, shoot.” 

Charles gives Arthur an amused glance. The two of them are more than used to the endless questions of a four-year-old. Why do the pumpkins grow in fall? Why is Rufus yellow? Why do the chickens love corn so much? Things that they’d never really thought about until the question had been raised by the ruthlessly curious kid. Each man does their best to answer in a way that makes sense. 

He looks Arthur right in the eye. “Why did Uncle Charles call you babygirl? What is a babygirl?” 

Oh, shit. 

The two men look at each other again, this time to communicate panic. There are certain glances that lovers share – especially those that have known each other for years. Fond looks, amused looks, longing looks. It almost feels like reading minds, and now in Charles’ eyes, Arthur can clearly see a string of expletives as he struggles to figure out what to say to the kid. 

What comes out of both of their mouths, at the same time, is a very eloquent “uhhhhh….” 

And at that moment, John and Abigail reappear, toting the whiskey. 

“Well, that was a pain,” she mutters. “Here you go, fellas. As promised.” 

Still fighting back internal panic, Arthur accepts the bottle with a smile, knowing that Charles is playing this far cooler than he is without even having to look. Knowing what he knows about Jack, the boy will do one of two things. Either press the question further now that his parents are here to provide more potential answers. Or get distracted and move on to something else. Arthur hopes and prays that the latter option happens, because he doesn’t have a damn clue how he’s going to explain their little faux pas to the Marstons when the question’s been sprung so quickly. 

By some miracle, Jack fixates on the whiskey being handed over instead. “What’s that, mama?” 

“It’s a grown-up drink, honey.” 

“Can I try some?” 

“Definitely not.” 

“Aww…” 

Charles and Arthur say their goodbyes, each choosing a side of the truck and slamming its rusted doors back into place. They wave to the Marstons as Arthur turns the key in the ignition, and the old thing roars into life, spewing a quick cloud from the exhaust before they’re moving. There’s a moment of awkward silence as the ranch home shrinks in the distance. 

“So –” Arthur starts, clearing his throat. 

“Yeah,” Charles answers. 

“That was awful.” 

“Not great,” he admits. “That was my bad, I shouldn’t have said that; not with the door open. I never meant for him to hear it.” 

“‘Course not,” Arthur mumbles, keeping his eyes on the road. “S’fine.” 

Hesitation from Charles’ side of the cab. Dread bubbles up in Arthur’s stomach at the thought of this turning into a disagreement; he hates fighting with Charles. Because Arthur’s the sensitive one, the one that always seems to fly off the handle, to get upset or cry. Charles is the one who keeps his cool. While most of the time, Arthur would consider that a good thing, right now he can’t help but be a little jealous. (Can’t he be irrational for once? Why does Arthur have to be the one with his heart on his sleeve all the time?) 

Already he’s struggling not to let his thoughts wander a more negative path. God, he used to have such a trigger temper. It’d taken years of self-discipline to remedy, but sometimes, he can still feel it trying to take over. The familiar scenery passes by as he keeps his trap shut, wondering what sort of soothing talk is going to come pouring out of his husband’s mouth to remedy the situation. 

“It doesn’t sound fine,” Charles points out. “What’s bothering you?”  

Ugh. Arthur scrubs a hand down his cheek, chasing an itch that only exists in his head. 

“Jus’ –” he sighs. “Kid shouldn’t’a heard it. And there’s no tellin’ whether he’s gonna go off repeatin’ it. You know that.” 

“I know,” Charles says at once. “I’m sorry.” 

“Ain’t mad at you.” says Arthur, his voice quiet. 

He can tell that Charles is thinking about the implications about that comment, what he means by it. As they’re pulling into their own drive, scattering wayward chickens, Arthur puts the truck in park. Something tells him that Charles won’t want to leave the truck until he figures out what the issue is. So he waits, unbuckling the seatbelt and leaning back with a sigh. Turning his head, he sees his partner chewing on his lip, a sure sign of deep thought. 

“Embarrassed, then?” Charles offers after a moment. 

Arthur nods. “Guess you could say that. Usually we’re so careful with that stuff.” 

“Can’t be perfect all the time.” 

“Yeah.” 

Arthur knows that he should leave it here, end it and go inside. He shouldn’t be hung up on something so stupid. But being himself, he has a propensity to get caught up on little things that others wouldn’t. To fixate and pick away and notice, long after the matter has come to pass. It’s one of the things he loathes about his own personality, the hidden anxiety that always hides so close to the surface. Lurking. 

“It’s just –” Arthur blurts, and already his voice has changed, more vulnerable, cracking. That, too, annoys him, upsets him. “God knows I heard and saw all sorts of things I didn’t need to when I was a kid. Awful things.” 

His heart beats faster. There are a myriad of examples dancing behind his open eyes. The way his father had screamed at and abused his mother. His drunken outbursts that seemed to come from nowhere. Arthur never knew when he was safe. How over time, his Pa turned that condescension and hate onto Arthur himself. Insisting that the older he got, the more he’d be able to bear it. Even now, fast approaching his forties, he can see his father glaring down at him from some long-faded memory. 

He never wants Jack to have to go through something like that. And somewhere in the middle he’s gotten his wires crossed, because he knows Jack’s about the most loved little boy he could ever find. He was there when that kid was born, and he cried when Abigail handed that baby over. The most tiny, wrinkled thing with a tuft of dark hair. Jack already looked like his parents, seconds out into the world, and that’s what pulled at Arthur’s heart the most. That even as a newborn he could bear such a strong resemblance to those what made him. 

Having such a strong reaction is irrational. Hell, what Jack had overheard was funny, for God’s sake. They both know it. But as his therapist had once told him a few years back, people can’t help what makes them remember, and now he finds himself gulping back tears. 

At once Charles is leaning forward, stretching the seatbelt to its limits. 

“Hey,” he says firmly. “Arthur –” 

He places a hand to Arthur’s face, trying to get the other man to look at him. Stubborn, Arthur holds steady, his eyes focused on the coating of dust and bits of gravel stuck to his floorboards. Really ought to get in here and clean this out sometime, he thinks, trying to think of anything but the tender way Charles is touching him. Trying to tell him that everything’s fine, because Jesus, shouldn’t Arthur know that already? Shouldn’t he be past welling up at stupid shit for no reason, at his age? 

“Can you look at me?” Charles coaxes. 

Swallowing hard, Arthur does, his eyes brimming with unnecessary moisture. Eye contact has never come easy, growing up as an anxious kid – especially in an abusive home. He never knew whether eye contact was the wrong thing to do. But Charles makes it feel so safe.

“Are you okay?” 

Arthur nods, remembering to look at Charles. “Yeah, I just – had a minute there. You know.” 

“I know.” 

“Sorry.” 

“No apology needed,” Charles says. “Promise.” 

It’s funny how all the parts of himself that Arthur used to feel embarrassed about – the parts that his own mind often insisted were weaker or dumber – are assuaged with only a few words from the man he’s made his life partner. He feels himself smile, can’t help it, and Charles ducks forward to brush his lips across Arthur’s forehead. A reassurance. 

“I’ll be a lot more diligent the next time we have him,” Charles adds confidently. “Swear. Hell, if you want I’ll call you Mr. Morgan so there’s no chance of us being anything less than downright formal.” 

Arthur lets out an abrupt laugh. “Think that might get us into an entirely different kinda trouble.” 

Charles smirks. “Think you might be right.” He unbuckles too, scooting closer over the space separating them until his knee bumps his husband’s. “Though it’s been a while since you wanted me to call you sir.” 

“It has,” Arthur relents, his breath catching as Charles’ big, broad hand slips over his covered thigh. 

“Hmm…one might think you don’t like being in control at all.” 

All at once Charles is rising over him, pressing him back against the driver’s seat window. It’s not exactly comfortable, but then again, Arthur doesn’t exactly care. Something about having an ever-vigilant four-year-old in their house for the past two days has gotten both of them wound up now that their nephew’s gone. Now that they’re free to do as they please, reminded of the flexibility of a child-free life. Arthur lets himself be held down, heart thumping away like a teenager’s, as Charles does his best to climb on top of him in the crowded space. 

Then his knee hits the horn, ringing out in the open country space. The chickens protest, and both men freeze in place. Arthur peers up at him with a slow grin, watching as Charles gives him a sheepish look. 

“Okay then,” says Charles, laughing a little. “Not here.” 

“Reckon we can make it in the door.” 

Arthur's glad that they're home. There, the embarrassment of the little slip up with Jack seems to fade – though it'd occurred right there in their living room. He's grounded again by the familiar sight of their jackets hanging on the coat rack, the coffee mugs on the shelf. Every little rustic touch that makes the combined space theirs. Books and art and the smell of hardwood. 

He toes off his boots by the door, and hangs his jacket. Charles does the same, placing a warm hand on his shoulder. 

"Looks like it's just you and me," he says softly. "What do you feel like?" 

Charles is goddamn considerate like that. Because they both know as much as Arthur loves to be taken charge of, made to make his mind go blank, to forget, Charles would also never jump into anything without his husband's consent. Everything they do is carefully planned and agreed to. 

Arthur knows he could say any number of things right now and get that wish granted. Charles’ hands are calloused and clever, rough from years of hard work, almost as experienced as Arthur’s own. They’ve known bitter winters and sweltering summers, endured fencework and broken horses. Most of all they’ve been gentle, running their way over Arthur’s body like a spring rain. Washing away insecurities and doubts, fears and sorrows. Leaving him as he was meant to be, fresh and whole in the afterglow. 

So Arthur can’t help but lick his lips, anticipating, as those hands come up to brush against his waist. Toying with his shirt, tucked into jeans, threatening to pull it loose. Running lines up and down his body from thigh to chest, his brown eyes dark and open, waiting as long as he needs to for Arthur’s answer. 

How a younger version of himself would've gone wild for this sort of treatment. There are many differences between the Arthur of the past and the man he is now, but he often amuses himself thinking about that particular lack of control. Charles hasn’t even kissed him yet – doesn’t have to, to get him wound up – and he’s growing hard. Twenties Arthur would be begging for it, eager both to please and to receive at the slightest sign of affection. 

Didn’t even know I liked men back then, he thinks wryly. He is, of course, more than aware of it now. 

“Anything,” Arthur says in answer to Charles’ question, and that’s all the incentive Charles needs to turn the fire a little hotter. 

He knows all his husband’s little quirks and cues. Arthur’s gorgeous sea-blue eyes get shy in a moment like this, flitting to his face and then away as his face goes pink. It drives Charles crazy. To have known and befriended and fallen in love with and married this man, only to still have Arthur give him such a look of bashfulness? It does far more to him than he thinks Arthur knows, gets him stiff in the confines of his own jeans. 

Of course, he’d much prefer Arthur to look at him – when they’re making love, when they’re talking, over dinner. Any time. Because that first glimpse he’d gotten of the man was incomparable next to the way his heart seemed to stammer and freeze when he got a good look at his face, at his eyes. Charles tries to tell him how beautiful they are, how beautiful he is, but Arthur doesn’t want to hear it. The man can’t take a compliment. 

So Charles most often settles for quiet admiration. 

“Oh, you’re letting me pick?” he says, low and playful. “Decisions, decisions…” Charles lets his hand trail down to the shape of Arthur’s bulge, giving it a hard squeeze. Arthur sucks in a quiet breath, fingers flexing at his sides. “You know how I like to see you, babe. Isn’t that right?” 

Though Arthur stands a few inches taller than Charles, he feels as if the other man stands above him now, and he realizes he’s leaning back out of habit. Already longing to collapse on the nearest soft surface and give himself over. Charles wants Arthur just as Arthur himself wants to be had – on his back, gazing up, open, submitting. 

“Yessir,” Arthur mumbles, his voice painted in colors of want and lust. 

With the lightest growl, Charles closes the gap between their hips and kisses him. The effect is instantaneous, a lit match to tinder, and Arthur lets himself go up. He’s weak for this man, this clever, younger man with the silver tongue and the watchful eyes who’s taught him about half a dozen new things about sex and living. Arthur surrenders to the kiss, letting his hands wander up and down Charles’ shirt, eventually stopping to ravel in his hair. 

In answer, Charles’ mouth opens against his. He’d never tell anyone – hasn’t even verbally told Arthur – but having his hair played with is heaven. The minute that Arthur winds his fingers into the long, silken strands, he’s guaranteed to melt. Even better if he pulls. Not enough to hurt, but enough to get his attention. Needless to say, Arthur has every scrap of Charles’ attention now, and won’t lose it for hours to come. 

Arthur responds beautifully to having his mouth explored. Hesitant at first, then growing more confident, letting his tongue tangle with the other man’s. Charles can’t help the sound he makes as Arthur threads his fingers in tighter, grasping more of his hair, bucking his hips into the welcome bulge of his cock. He nips at Arthur’s full bottom lip, tugging. Arthur all but shudders against him, letting him do as he pleases. 

“Bedroom,” Charles murmurs, and he gets no argument. 

They arrive in various states of disarray. Shirts untucked, hair mussed, eyes shining with that thought of what they’re about to do. Right away, Arthur’s fingers go to the buttons of his own shirt, eager to be free of it, but Charles moves to block him. With a smirk, he replaces his husband’s hands with his own, delighting in the look of combined irritation and arousal that comes over Arthur’s face. Because he knows that Charles will be slower. And inevitably, more careful. 

Looking up into his husband’s warm blue eyes, Charles undoes the first button, exposing a few inches of that broad chest. Frowning a little, Arthur places his palm on Charles’ bulge, pushing it in and up through his jeans, making his impatience known. Charles huffs out a laugh, undoing the next button, and the next. When it’s hanging loose on his shoulders, Arthur shrugs the shirt to the ground, pressing in to rut his very obvious cock against Charles, enticing him to hurry up and get undressed faster. 

“Alright, alright,” says Charles. “Have it your way.”

“Want you to touch me,” Arthur replies in a low voice, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his husband's jeans. “Please.” 

“So needy.” 

Charles kicks off his pants, amused to see that Arthur’s already beaten him to it, naked. Clothes lie all around him, scattered in his haste. That’s nowhere as interesting as Arthur himself, standing tall and bare in the midst of it like a tree in a hurricane. His body is incredible, a monument to decades of physical labor. Brawny and thick, and not overly toned, Charles knows that he’s insecure about his body type – though Charles has never seen a more attractive man with his own two eyes. 

Removing his own shirt and underwear, Charles is finally just as bare as Arthur is, and he doesn’t hesitate to brush their cocks together. The motion draws a little whine of need from his lover’s throat, something deep and primal. Charles can feel his own impatience threatening to flare to the surface. Something that demands he take Arthur and now, toss him to the mattress and pin him down, spread his legs and work his way into his tight body. 

He reminds himself that they have time. With no little ones underfoot, they have all the time they need. Taking Arthur’s hand, he leads him to the edge of the bed, and Arthur sits without prompting. 

“Good boy,” he says quietly, running his thumb over Arthur’s bottom lip. 

Arthur goes pink at the simple compliment, opening his mouth. Between his legs he’s already leaking at the tip, no doubt aching just as Charles is. 

Not yet, Charles reminds himself. Rushing in too soon would ruin all the fun of seeing the look on Arthur’s face as he builds anticipation, teases him further. Like doing this, for instance – sliding the tip of his thumb into Arthur’s mouth, enough to feel his warm breath, satisfied when his lips grab it to suck. Just the lightest pressure, an indication of what else he could be doing with his mouth right now. But God, does it set something in his chest tight. 

“Look at you,” Charles breathes, moving to straddle Arthur’s waist. “So fuckin’ gorgeous for me, aren’t you, baby?” 

Arthur’s hands come up to grasp at Charles’ back, needing the contact, needing more. He whines out what could be an affirmative or a protest, letting himself be lowered flat on his back. Ever since they walked in the door all he’s been able to think about is being stretched open on loving, patient fingers. Finally being filled after two long days. Fucked the way he knows Charles will fuck him, long and good and slow. 

“I’ll give it to you,” he says now, reading the look on Arthur’s face as easily as if he’d spoken aloud. “But looks like we forgot something, didn’t we?” 

“Fuckin’ lube,” Arthur grumbles, both of them casting their eyes to the drawer of the nightstand. 

“Mmmhm.” 

Scrambling off of him, Charles goes to the drawer and retrieves what they need, watching as Arthur scoots back and gets himself more comfortable in the center of the bed. Stroking himself idly, Charles takes a moment to just look at the man before him, laid out on their blankets and pillows. Knowing how lucky he is to call Arthur his partner, his only, his best friend in all things. 

“See somethin’ you like?” Arthur teases, one hand propped behind his head. 

The other trails almost casually over his thigh, his cock, his abdomen. He’s really testing Charles with this little show of playfulness, and Charles licks his lips, tossing the bottle of lube on the bed. He sinks a knee onto the mattress, joining him again. 

“That’s not a strong enough word for how I feel about it,” says Charles, spreading his husband’s legs further. 

Arthur gasps at the sudden motion, letting his thighs part easily. A part of Charles wants to take that long, thick cock in hand and stroke him hard, to leave Arthur right on the edge until he’s begging, looking up at him with his brows scrunched together and his mouth all twisted in a pout – 

But he doesn’t. Instead he exhales, uncapping the lube and drizzling some onto his fingers. Taking the time to warm it on his breath, Charles reaches down to Arthur’s tight hole, smirking as Arthur bucks up into the touch. 

“Easy, cowboy. You know I’m not rushin’ this. Remember last time we thought we could?”

“My ass sure does.” 

Chuckling at that, Charles massages circles against that ring of muscle, content to watch his lover’s face as they both ease into the familiar act. Charles feels relaxed here, between the brackets of Arthur’s legs, letting him get used to the feeling of his fingertip inside him. Nice and easy does it. 

That one frantic night hadn’t been good for either of them, early on in their relationship. They'd been so sure they could rush right into the dick portion of anal sex. It’d left Arthur hurting and Charles wracked with guilt. It serves as a firm reminder to Charles, every time they make love. No matter how anxious they both are to get to the last leg of the race, they can’t skip this. 

So he keeps going at the same pace, sliding that finger inside Arthur, watching and listening to his every reaction to make sure nothing hurts. He’s glad when the sounds his husband makes are only the softest cries of enjoyment, his toes curling at Charles’ sides. Shifting and squirming with impatience as he’s opened up and prepared. Before long, he’ll be begging for more, restless for the sensation of being filled. 

More lube, more fingers. Arthur’s having trouble focusing on Charles’ face now, or keeping his eyes open at all. Charles is familiar with the sensation. It’s incredibly distracting to have something thrust in and out of you, brushing up against that small gland capable of delivering a world of bliss. He does his best not to be too agonizing in his slowness, reading Arthur’s steadily increasing volume loud and clear. 

“Fuuck,” he gasps as Charles adds a third, scissoring them in his considerably looser body. “C’mon, sweetheart, what’re you waitin’ for?” 

“For you to beg for me,” he purrs, sliding those fingers out careful and slow. 

“Asshole,” Arthur says, but there’s no menace to it. 

“You are correct. That’s where I’ll be putting my dick.” 

“Oh my God.” 

They both crack up, despite the heat of the moment, losing it at Charles’ deadpan joke. (Charles can and will laugh at his own jokes, despite denying the fact over and over.) And then Charles is rising over him, the smirk still apparent on his face, hands gripping Arthur’s broad thighs, cockhead nudging his wet hole.

 Arthur’s grin melts into a soft look of need, his hips longing to arch up, to get more, but Charles holds him steady. He knows he’s not allowed to take more than what he’s given in this first, delicious stretch. So he swallows the whine in his throat and keeps still, breathing hard, watching. Loose strands of hair hang over his lover’s face as he braces himself against Arthur’s body, mouth set in determination, and he begins pushing in. 

The effect is instantaneous. Arthur’s body is greedy for it after all that preparation, the first inch of Charles’ cock sliding in, and each of them make a noise of enjoyment. All the work they’ve done to get here is about to pay off. Even Charles has to bite his lip and force himself to go slow, so slow as he eases the rest of himself in. All the while he checks in with Arthur, getting met with huffs of restlessness and sighs of bliss in equal measure. 

At last he finds himself seated fully inside the other man’s incredible warmth, stopping for a moment as they both adjust to the sensation. Charles thinks of himself as an even-tempered man, and in almost every scenario, that description holds truth. He’s not the kind to lose composure when he’s cut off in traffic. He doesn’t get overwhelmed in crowded grocery stores. Anything that most other folk would get bothered by doesn’t seem to get to him  – to Arthur’s chagrin. 

But watching his husband’s face change as he takes every inch of his shaft? That could easily break him if he isn’t careful. If there weren’t a risk of hurting Arthur, there would be nothing stopping him from snapping his hips forward into his waiting body, chasing that pleasure for everything he’s worth. God, sometimes going slow is so damn hard. 

Charles takes a breath, steadying himself, and pulls back just the tiniest amount before thrusting in again. The barest motion, working Arthur open deeper. Pleasure already soars through him to be squeezed so tightly by Arthur’s body, to see Arthur gazing up at him like that. His face is so open and trusting and earnest. Like he knows that Charles will give him everything he wants, everything he needs. And God help him, Charles is going to try. 

He strokes his hands up and down Arthur’s thighs, gentle contact, feeling as well as seeing the goosebumps spring to life under his touch. When he’s certain he isn’t going to hurt Arthur, he starts his pace; in and out, pulling out slowly before pushing back in. The little sound the man beneath him makes is something akin to relief, edged with need. Yet the rhythm Charles sets can hardly be called fucking at all, more of a soft rocking – and Arthur’s face pulls into a pout. 

“You ain’t even tryin’,” he complains. “C’mon, Charles, fuck me.” 

“Hmm…” He looks down, still running his hands over Arthur’s skin, as if he’s considering. “Should I? Should I go faster?” 

Without waiting for an answer, he smoothly ruts in deeper, delighting in the look of surprise and ecstasy that sparks in his lover’s eyes. Arthur spreads his legs wider, fighting to hook his legs around Charles’ waist, to get closer. 

“Yeah, jus’ like that,” Arthur whines. “God, Charles –” 

All Charles gives in response is a low hum, caught up in the intimacy of the moment. Something about seeing their bodies joined together is so satisfying, every bit as erotic as the sensation of what they’re doing. Every once in a while the realization comes back to him; he’s actually inside Arthur, letting his cock slide in and out of his opening. And Arthur lies below him, hands reaching up to anchor him at the hips, ensuring that he’s not going to leave. 

With a grunt of effort, Charles reaches under Arthur’s thighs and hitches each to his waist, forcing a cry out of him as Charles works his way in even further. Now he’s having a very difficult time keeping the pace anywhere near slow and steady, reaching down to take Arthur’s neglected cock in hand. 

“Yes, sweetheart, please, yes, fuck –” Arthur babbles below him, arching up into the contact before Charles even has the chance to start stroking. 

“Needy today, huh?” Charles says, smiling, keeping his grip somewhat loose. No use in Arthur coming too soon. “Look at you, trembling all over. We’ve barely started. Did you get that worked up, missing me inside you with two days not havin’ it?” 

“What do you think?” Arthur pauses to huff, his fingers digging into Charles’ skin. “Kept thinkin’ we could do it real quiet maybe and he’d never know –” 

Charles breaks into a smirk. “Oh, you devil, Arthur Morgan.” 

His grip on Arthur’s cock slackens, and Charles ignores the little whimper of need. Instead he devotes his attention to leaning forward, pinning Arthur to the mattress, drinking in the accompanying gasp. Driving into him harder, faster, finally giving him the urgency he’s been craving. And Jesus, how Charles has craved it too, to see the sweat bead on his skin, to see his mouth fall open in bliss, everything in Arthur going lax with the pure thrill of being fucked. 

Desperate pleasure claws at his own stomach, building at the base of his cock. The threat of coming is getting harder to ignore now, but Charles tries. He doesn’t want things to end so quickly – even if they’re both up for another round, he’s not a teenager anymore. They’ll have to wait a spell before getting back to it, and he doesn’t want the whole affair to be over in a blink. 

“You look so goddamn good,” he breathes, his voice low and strained. “So pretty for me.” 

“M’not,” Arthur protests, darkening further with a blush. 

There’s the chip in the armor, his Achilles heel. Because although Arthur is one of the strongest men Charles has ever known and will likely ever know, he’s found a weakness in these tender moments, one that sends fire through them both. Arthur won’t budge at being called handsome or good-looking, fit or even hot. He’ll only roll his eyes, brushing past the endearments. 

But if Charles calls him pretty. Oh, that gets to him. In mere moments he’s flustered by the word – flustered, not angered or riled up. The first time Charles had said it, in a playful tone, he’d been completely taken aback by the reaction. They both quickly discovered how much they enjoyed the results. 

And Arthur is pretty, for God’s sake. There’s something beautiful in his eyes and their long lashes, in the plush set of his mouth. That fact doesn’t negate his masculine traits. The two aspects of him coexist, making up one very good-looking man. He’s confused many a straight feller in the local bars, walking past in a pair of tight jeans. Charles has caught the lingering glances before their eyes darted away, their cheeks burning. Arthur could have that effect on people. If Charles were a man prone to jealousy, it might be an issue. Luckily for them both, he isn’t. 

Arthur’s eyes are glazed over with lust as he watches Charles above him, and he feels like he’s glowing from the inside out. He’s not as close to coming as he could be – though he knows Charles is barely holding on. He can see it in the tense set of his jaw, hear it in the rough stammer of his breath. 

All he wants – all he could ever want – is to please him. Charles is always going above and beyond for him, whether it’s here in the bedroom or in their everyday lives. It only makes his fool heart love the man even harder. Because even if Charles takes a minute to warm up to you, once he loves you, there’s nothing else for it. You’ve got him for life. Gazing up at him as he holds back from coming, to prolong Arthur’s pleasure just that little bit more… That’s so fucking Charles. 

So Arthur nudges him along, in his own subtle way.

“Please don’t stop,” he moans out, pitching his voice higher. “Charles you always fuck me so damn good, you’re so fuckin’ good, please –” 

The effect it has is catastrophic on his husband’s self-control. 

“Arthur, I can’t –” His eyes slip closed, brows knitting together tight. “Godfuckshit I’m right there –” 

He can hardly stand how cute Charles gets when he’s about to come. Excited and frustrated all at once, because he always wants Arthur to get there first. Each of them born and bred gentlemen, despite their difficult childhoods, but Charles is keen to spoil and outdo Arthur at every turn. Often they butt heads about who’s supposed to be taking care of who at any given time. You’re not likely to find a more stubborn pair – or a more devoted one. 

Sometimes their love feels like an arm wrestling match, with neither willing to give in. Other times it feels like letting go, falling asleep, something as warm and gentle as sunlight. Neither would ever change what they have with the other. Even as Charles realizes now what Arthur’s doing beneath him, that soft grin on his mouth, encouraging him to give in and succumb to the all-encompassing pleasure building at the base of his cock. 

Only seconds later, Charles is giving in with a long, low groan, stilling his hips deep in Arthur’s waiting body.  

They only stare at one another for a long, long second, Charles panting, Arthur grinning. 

“You oughta know,” says Charles, “that you’re gonna pay for that.” 

“I was hopin’ for it.” 

Carefully, Charles slides out of Arthur, noting every small twitch of his face. Checking for discomfort, keeping one hand on his thigh to brace himself. They’ll leave a mess on the sheets, but that can be dealt with. For now, all Charles wants to do is get this stubborn man up and into the shower, where the warm water can rinse them clean. Where he can keep his promises. 

They’ve done this enough that Arthur knows right where Charles wants to take him, and he eases up off the mattress with a light grunt. 

“You alright?” Charles puts a hand on his arm, knowing the man’s knees will be weak after taking him. 

“Mm, yeah.” Arthur flashes him a bashful smile. “Thanks.” 

“You know I got you.” 

Arthur leans in and places a kiss to Charles’ cheek, still achingly hard, looking forward to what awaits them in the shower. In no time at all they’ve migrated, leaving the bedroom looking like a tornado’s passed through. The bathroom is in much better shape, though there’s no telling how it'll look in a few minutes’ time with them together in it. Arthur reaches down to start the water, and Charles slips behind the curtain, not the type to wait until the temperature’s right. 

Grinning a little, Arthur keeps his hand beneath the stream, only placing a foot on the ceramic surface when it’s warm enough. Call him what you will, but he’d rather do a number of things than step into cold water of his own volition. Strands of hair are already sticking to Charles’ face and shoulders by the time Arthur makes it inside, his eager cock brushing bumping his lover’s belly. 

Without saying a word, Charles meets Arthur’s glance and folds gracefully to his knees. He places the tip of Arthur’s cock in his mouth, an instantaneous, overwhelming heat. Arthur places a flat palm on the wall of the shower, moaning out a curse. There’s no delicate working up to this – and Arthur isn’t sure that’s what he wants. Not when he’s already been fucked open so thoroughly, Charles’ come dribbling down his thighs. 

Charles braces both hands on Arthur’s hips, gripping tight. Arthur groans aloud at that firm contact, at his hot breath, knowing he’s about to get the cocksucking of his life. His deep brown eyes stare up, smirking, as he laps up more of Arthur’s shaft, groaning out a soft sound as he goes. Arthur lets his fingers gravitate to the wet strands of his hair, tugging, driving a more enthusiastic response from Charles in turn. 

He feels Charles’ mouth tighten around him, the flat of his tongue pressed to the glans of his cock, and hisses out a sound of helpless need. All around them the water pours, a little hotter than Arthur really wants it, but he can’t bring himself to care. His vision is tunneled to Charles at his feet, one of his strong hands coming up to work him at the base, all of it sending so much so much pleasure coursing through his belly. 

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly he spills into Charles mouth, gasping and moaning his name into the echoing close space of the shower. And all the while Charles looks up at him, grinning, taking every goddamn bit of it. They’re in the shower, he could open his mouth and let it spill out, but – he makes a point to stay suckling Arthur’s cock. And something about that sends a deeper wrack of bliss through Arthur’s body, that point proven. I want to swallow and I’m going to. 

He’s never been more attracted to anyone else in his life. Good thing, too. He married him. 

“Jesus, darlin’, that was –” Arthur pauses for breath, for words. “You are – incredible.” 

Charles wipes his mouth, giving Arthur a slow smile. “Well, thank you…babygirl.” 

Arthur’s expression quickly arranges itself into one of solemnness. “I’m gonna end you right here.” 

“After I just sucked your dick? Rude.” 

—----------------

Hours later, as they’re lying together on the couch, Arthur’s phone vibrates with a series of texts. One after the other after the other – and that could only mean John. Fishing his phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants, Arthur takes a moment to read from the beginning. 

Thought I had to take Abigail to the hospital she was laughing so hard 

John: Alright which one of you said it

Which one of you

Babygirl? Really? Y’all call each other that? Nastyyyyyy 💀💀💀

Y’all trying to kill my wife with your babygirl nonsense

Arthur rolls his eyes, nudging Charles to show him the exchange. Meanwhile, the messages keep rolling in. 

John: Jack called Rufus babygirl 

He called ME babygirl

I’m not mentally prepared for this 

“To be honest… that’s probably the safest thing he could’ve overheard,” Charles muses. 

“Mm…yeah. Probably right.” 

Arthur chuckles down at his phone as John’s complaints keep coming. Well, that’s a mistake they’ll not soon make again. At least they’d manage to annoy John and amuse Abigail with the slip-up. Many years down the line, when either uncle asks Jack if he remembers the incident, he’ll respond with absolute confusion – and thank goodness. In the end it becomes just another memorable incident in his childhood. 

And Charles and Arthur go on living, go on loving, as they always have. 

#groove to the beat of my heart ao3 #wickedscribbles #red dead redemption 2 #charthur #charles smith x arthur morgan #arthur morgan x charles smith #charthur fluff #charthur smut #arthur morgan fic #charles smith fic #rdr2 fic #rdr2 smut

[starlessea]

The Walking Dead - Daryl Dixon

Hello, my amazing readers! 

First, I want to thank you so much for all of your support. Your comments and feedback really mean the world to me. I’ve made so many friends on this platform, and I utterly adore getting to talk with you all.

I post less frequently now because I have a job, but I'll always come back x

(you can also find my work on Wattpad and Ao3 under @pandorahurts)

♡ = favourites

Each section is ordered by oldest to newest

Art Masterlist

General TWD Masterlist

[COMPLETE] Here Comes the Sun (S2-S4)  

Daryl Dixon scares the hell out of you climbing out of that damn creek. It takes hauling his ass halfway across Georgia and taking a bullet for him to realise that you're not half bad. He slowly starts to come around, despite grumbling about how much he doesn't like your singing, or that you can't use a gun for shit - and don't get him started on that ugly yellow tent of yours. It takes him a while before he starts to see for himself that he's found a best friend for life, and that he doesn't actually mind the colour yellow that much, after all.

Step on the Gas (Pre-S1 onwards) ♡

A dishonourable discharge from the military results in you being hauled off to live with your grandparents in the boonies, otherwise known as the middle of nowhere Georgia. After running over a nail on the road, and pushing your grandpa's vintage Camaro to the nearest auto-shop, you meet Daryl Dixon - the local mechanic. At some point, the world ends, but that stubborn man never gives you a chance to slow down. His smile gives you whiplash, but he still insists that you to step on the gas.

Hush Hush (S4, 3 Parts)

You’d always been told that eavesdropping was a bad thing. But in this case, it led to you finding one of the only few good things left in the world.

Foxtails and Rabbit Trails (with @whitexwingedxdoves​​) ♡

Daryl Dixon was a good hunter, but there were still some things that he struggled to find. Such as the patience to deal with you.

You wore a rabbit’s foot keyring, but Daryl thought you were the furthest thing from lucky. After all, you ended up stuck with him, too.

Snow Angels (Between S2 - S3)

Daryl Dixon doesn’t like snow, but you somehow convince him to make snow angels with you.

Puppy Love (Loosely S10)

Bathtime leaves you to deal with a wet Dog and wet Daryl.

Sea Witch (S4) 

You sing just like a siren, and it makes Daryl realise why some sailors chose to drown.

Poker Face (S5) 

You let Spencer teach you to shoot despite already knowing how; and it drives Daryl positively mad as a result.

Sketchbook Confessions (S4)  ♡

You flick through Daryl’s sketchbook, only to discover he’d filled the pages up with you.

Eye For Detail [Sequel to Sketchbook Confessions]  

You try to sketch Daryl in return. Except, you draw his smile a little crooked, and the eyes are wonky... And Daryl completely loves it.

Prom Night (Pre-Apocalypse)  

It was the night of your highschool prom. Except, Daryl had been kicked out a few months back and you didn’t have a date, either.

Hayloft (Pre-Apocalypse) ♡

You see a red-brick barn which reminds you of the days you'd spending smoking in a hayloft with Daryl Dixon.

Last Man Standing  (repost) 

Daryl is haunted by memories of you. But they’re the good kind - so he lets them stick around.

Look Straight Ahead ♡

You are the only person Daryl Dixon will ever let cut his hair.

Peek-A-Boo ♡

The story of Aunt and Uncle Dixon told through the eyes of Judith Grimes.

Inkstains

You spend the night trapped in a tattoo shop with Daryl, and he emerges the next morning with some new ink.

Big Brother ♡

The story of how Daryl Dixon won your heart, from the begrudging perspective of his brother, Merle.

Wildest Dreams

Daryl can’t help but toss and turn under the stars one night, remembering someone from his past who he should have long since forgotten.

Sunflower Fields

In an otherwise dying world, you and Daryl stumble across something living and beautiful.

[NEW] Renegade

A brief history of Daryl Dixon’s run-ins with the law (and how you always bailed him out).

[NEW] Crossfire

Rick Grimes recalls the day his brother almost lost you (since Daryl still couldn’t bring himself to).

Two Sugars 

You pester Daryl about what he did before the apocolypse, but are soon reminded that it doesn’t matter.

Dot-to-dot 

You like to trace patterns, and Daryl Dixon is your canvas.

After Hours 

Daryl stuffs you into a broom closet and you start to wonder if you’re reliving your highschool days.

I’m Daryl 

Captured alongside Daryl by The Saviors, you are used to try and coax the man into submission.

I Ain’t Nobody’s Bitch [Sequel to I’m Daryl] 

You and Daryl escape The Santuary; but mentally, you’re still there.

Sunbeam  ♡

Daryl proposes to you. At least, you think he did.

Magnets  

Daryl Dixon had a crush on you. You could tell.

Love Blindness [Spin-off to Magnets] 

You had a crush on Daryl Dixon. Everyone else could tell.

Hourglass 

You aren’t sure whether you’re the same person you were before Woodberry; Daryl tells you that you’re not.

After The Storm 

Sunshine always follows the rain, just like how you’ll always follow Daryl.

I See Red

You’ll threaten anyone who dares mess with your little brother; and Daryl is left to pick up the pieces when you feel guilty for doing so.

Sleepless Nights  ♡

They say that your firstborn opens your eyes to the world; but Daryl looked at her like she was the world. 

Wear My Heart On Your Sleeve

Daryl doesn’t quite fit in at Alexandria yet - but he still tries.

Caught Red Handed

Even during the apocolypse, you and Daryl experience little moments of domesticity.

Heartbreak Hotel

Daryl had already rejected you once - back when he’d been a little more baby-faced, and a lot less patient.

No Vacancy [Sequel to Heartbreak Hotel]

Rejected once, shame on you. Rejected twice, shame on him - and Daryl Dixon was no fool.

Doctor’s Orders 

Daryl isn’t too impressed when he finds you with a sling on your arm and a smile on your face.

Hey, Good Lookin’

You could count the number of showers Daryl had taken in the last few weeks on one hand. But somehow, he still looked just as good.

Crayon Family  ♡

Daryl loses your daughter, but you end up finding more than you’d bargained for.

Check My Jacket

Even as he’s held prisoner at The Sanctuary, Daryl can’t help but let his thoughts drift back to you.

Welcome Home [Sequel to Check My Jacket]

You and Daryl reunite after he escapes from The Sanctuary, and he finally reveals what he’s been hiding in his jacket pocket.

Barricade

Daryl Dixon makes sure that nobody gets left behind - especially not you.

Two Left Feet

You give Daryl Dixon dancing lessons.

Cross My Heart

Daryl begrudgingly allows you to tie his hair up to help him cope with the Georgia heat.

“Don’t Cry”  ♡

Daryl hates seeing your tears. He’d much rather see you smiling, instead.

Can I Hold Your Hand?

Rather than seeking comfort from God, you turn to one of his angels instead - a man named Daryl Dixon.

Touching Foreheads

Pinky Swear

Bandages

Asleep on his Shoulder

Spooning at Night

Showering Together

Keeping Quiet

Touch Starved

Shotgun Wedding

I’ll Wait

Take Mine

Happy Birthday

Can I Kiss You?

Four Doors Down

You’re Important

Permission

[NEW] Are You Cold?

[NEW] Bonfire

#masterlist #mobile #mobile masterlist #admin #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd imagine #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #twd daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl imagine #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfic #twd imagines #daryl imagines

[ihatebnha]

dawg i am BEGGING YOU to consider doing a pt 2 of Icks with todo, deku , & bakugou. It was literally so fuckin funny man 😭😭😭 i fr have re read it so many times i’ve lost track at this point. It never fails to make me smile or laugh. And everything is so specific too & fits each one of them so perfectly that Horikoshi might as well just come out and say everything u wrote is canon. But i love ur blog wishing u the best <333

(icks pt. i here!)

you know..... just for this message specifically i will write you icks ANYTIME you want them. call me up when im 85 years old and dying and i will give icks. call me at my wedding and you're getting ICKS.

thank you so much for enjoying them tho... and for understanding my vision and being so sweet about it adjadsxfaklsd... i love them you a lot too!!!

hopefully, these compare:

-

Bakugo

Thinks it's cute to put his arm around your neck

Says stuff like, “you know that’s bad for you, right?”

Thinks he doesn’t need to brush his hair

Thinks it's funny to ignore you, but gets mad when you ignore him

Toenails are uneven

Ruins your outfits by making you bring a jacket everywhere

If you leave anything around that he's interested in (see: candy), he’s “confiscating” it

Calls self care “unnecessary…" and says shit like, “that’s terrible for battle” if you try to show him your nails or soft skin or something

Yells at the TV…

His mouth gets greasy when he eats... and he will try to wipe it off or clean his teeth with the bottom of his shirt

Watches you play phone or video games and gets mad if you make a wrong move

Walks (stomps) super fast for no reason??????

And has heavy ass footsteps that will wake you up in the morning

Mouth breathes

Likes back scratches but won’t scratch yours back (he’s bad at it, anyway)

And will not let you drop an argument for the life of you… political debate vibes except about stuff like how to clean the shower

His phone is super greasy, too... and he has one of those really old and bulky protective cases that doesn't even work

Grumpily says "what?" when he picks up the phone at work or in front of his friends

Snores

Deku

Sheds like an animal… you run your hands through his hair and at least five strands are getting caught in your fingers every single time

You clean the drain too, and it’s literally all his hair

Always forgets to put the toilet seat back down

Leaves half-full water bottles everywhere

And everybody says this, but… will eat your leftovers. And the last bit of ice cream you were saving for yourself

Stinky because he's always sweating... and literally smells like pure testosterone. You can always tell when he’s been somewhere because the room just always smells like Man

Tbh his shoes probably smell bad, too

“Oh wait, my mom gave me a coupon for this... hold on, let me find it...”

Khakis or dad jeans on his days off

And just look at a picture of this boy and tell me he doesn’t overpluck his eyebrows

Will walk in on you using the bathroom or showering because "he needed something"

And leaves all his shaving stubble in the sink if he's late to work

Thinks his puppy-dog eyes work

If you asked him to choose between you and All Might... he would hesitate

Listens to ASMR made by and for men

"Can't you just use a makeup wipe?"

Except he will (or try to, at least) use your skincare products without asking... and you can always tell when he has

Earwaxy

And yeah... you do have an All Might shrine somewhere in your house

Todoroki

“Can we have sex tonight?”

Thinks you can cook + make meals in the toaster oven

Reminds you to do your skincare routine… or some other basic task you probably already knew about

On chore day, he’s hard to get moving and “tires” easily… you find him on the couch 20 minutes into any task just… looking at his phone

Doesn't take you seriously when you're mad at him, either... and thinks you probably don't mean it or that he can fix it, anyway

“Hey, can I have some?” except he never waits for your answer

Also likes sharing silverware with you… which is really cute right up until he’s shoving a spoon he just put in his mouth right in front of your face

Very adamant about… touching you. If you let go of his hand, he’s literally waiting to grab it back. You scoot away from cuddles and he’s going after you… even if you just want some water or to check your phone or something

If you tell a white lie about something, he’s correcting you...

“Oh, sorry Momo... I’m busy Tuesday!”

“No, you’re not?”

Lowkey gets upset when you talk about hanging out with other boys… even if you just work or have class with them

Doesn't know any slang, either... comes home from hanging out with Deku and Bakugo only to ask you stuff like, "what's a chode?" or "what's sloppy toppy?"

“I liked *insert terrible movie here*”

Asks why you didn't finish eating something

Has thee worst taste in Tik Toks and memes... and sends you videos he thinks you'd like that really just aren't funny

Unironically wants to match outfits with you

And thinks you're getting married one week into the relationship... which is sweet, but also kinda freaky...

#bakugou x reader #deku x reader #todoroki x reader #bakugo #deku #todoroki #nothing will ever live up to the original icks #but i hope this is okay!!! #ily u anon a ton... ur so funny and sweet #ask #anon #caitie post #headcanons #icks tw