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dixons-sunshine · 2 months

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Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: While hanging out with Daryl, an old friend decided to pay you an unexpected visit. Not wanting to cut your visit short, Daryl offers to tag along to the supermarket. You agree, which lead to the funniest but best shopping experience of your life. And the hangout afterwards turned into a night you'd never forget.

Genre: Fluff, some angst (mentions of Daryl's dad and his scars—reader knows about his home life.)

Era: Pre outbreak

Warnings: Swearing, blood (from reader's period), mentions of abuse, mentions of Merle being an asshole to reader and Daryl, allusions to money problems (reader chooses the cheapest foods while in the store and lives in a trailer park), reader's mom is implied to be a single parent.

Word count: 4.6k (this got way longer than I expected)

A/n: Honestly my second favourite story I've written. It's not great, but I loved the concept very much and writing about Daryl before the apocalypse turned out to be so much fun! I definitely need to write more about pre-apocalypse Daryl.

Requests are open for any TWD requests if y'all wanna send any!

Part two

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“I'm telling you, you're overreacting. How was I supposed to know that it was gonna go flying in your direction?”

“It wasn't even supposed to go flyin' like tha' in the first place. I've been tryin' to teach ya to fish fer months now, but yer hopeless. Stick to buyin' fish from the market fer yer safety and mine.”

You threw one of the pillows on the couch you were sitting on in his direction, trying to look offended but failing miserably due to the burst of laughter falling from your lips. Daryl easily caught the pillow and chuckled, a boyish grin on his face. He flopped down next to you on the couch, keeping the pillow on his lap as he watched you trying to calm your laughter.

“You're mean, you know that? I'm not hopeless, fishing is just hard,” you said with a smile, looking at him through your eyelashes.

The smile you wore and the sparkle in your eyes made Daryl's heart skip a beat. His mouth suddenly felt dry and he felt an overwhelming urge to close the distance between the two of you—and urge he's had for months now—but he refrained, his father's deprecating words about his 'nonexistent' worth echoing in the back of his mind.

Daryl shook the thoughts from his mind and focused back on you, your smile he loved so much still gracing your features. “Nah, it ain't tha' hard,” he replied, resting his arm on the back of the couch.

“Says the fish whisperer,” you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest in mock anger, but the huge smile on your face ruined your facade.

Daryl couldn't help the amused laugh that escaped his mouth. “Fish whisperer?” he asked, a crooked smile on his face as he looked at you. “Tha's what yer callin' me?”

“Yeah, you're a fish whisperer. Every time I try to catch a fish, you lean down to the water and tell the fish to be difficult so that I can't catch them and you get the satisfaction of watching me fail. I've got you all figured out, Dixon,” you joked, a teasing grin on your face.

Daryl shook his head at your ‘accusation’ and chuckled. “Ya got me,” he responded. “Sorry ya had to find out like this. The fish and I jus' have this unspoken bond, ya know? They do whatever I tell 'em to.”

“I knew it,” you replied playfully, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Apologise right now.”

“'M sorry,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “I'll talk to the fish and get them to go easier on ya.”

“Thank you,” you laughed in playful triumph.

“Yer welcome,” he replied with a shake of his head, the crooked smile still on his face. “Now are we gonna watch tha' movie ya promised or are we jus' gonna go back and forth over your lack of fishin' skills?”

“Yeah, I just gotta use the bathroom really quick. You can pick out a movie in the meantime,” you acknowledged, getting up from the couch once you saw Daryl nod.

You headed into the bathroom of your small trailer home and closed the door, heading towards the toilet to tend to your business. However, as soon as you sat down, you saw blotches of blood on the inside of your underwear. You groaned inwardly at the horrible timing of your period's arrival and reached for the box of tampons you kept located near the toilet. However, as soon as you opened the box, you audibly groaned at the sight of only one tampon remaining. You didn't have any pads either due to your mom having used the last one a week prior, so you'd have to make a run to the store.

You finished your business, grabbing a fresh pair of underwear from the laundry basket you had yet to take back to your room as well as a pair of pants, before going back out to Daryl. He patiently waited for you on the couch, the movie he picked out paused and waiting to be watched. He fiddled with the remote in his hands before looking up at you when he heard your approaching footsteps. He gave you a small smile before frowning, instantly noticing the ashamed look on your face.

“Wha's wrong?” he questioned, getting up from the couch and taking a step towards you.

“Nothing! It's nothing, I just...” you trailed off, unsure how to go about telling Daryl about why you needed to cut the visit short.

“Ya jus' wha'?” he asked anxiously, unnerved by your sudden awkwardness. You were never nervous around him, so the sudden awkwardness baffled him.

“I have to go into town. I need something urgently and it can't really wait. I'm sorry,” you apologized sincerely, your tone holding sadness at the prospect of the visit you had to cut short.

Daryl's heart sank at your words. He enjoyed hanging out with you and really didn't want to go home yet. He was sure his dad wasn't passed out from drinking yet and he didn't want to accidentally set him off into another rage and deeply pay the price for it, so he wanted to wait it out here with you. But now he most likely wouldn't be able to.

“Wha' do ya need?” he asked, nervously chewing on his bottom lip.

You hesitated for a moment. You liked Daryl, and not just platonically, either. Despite his rough exterior, he was undeniably sweet, kind, caring, affectionate and so much more. He knew how to make you laugh even if he preferred to be serious most of the time and he always treated you with the utmost respect. But you also knew that both his brother and his father were misogynistic pricks. They didn't know the first thing about women and feminine needs, so they definitely didn't teach Daryl about any of that. You didn't want Daryl to look at you differently or be grossed out by you because of your period. You wouldn't be able to handle that.

“Hey, ya alrigh'?” Daryl asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. His eyebrows were furrowed in a deep frown, his eyes flickering between your eyes in concern.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I'm fine. I just zoned out for a second.”

“Ya didn't answer my question from before. Wha' do ya need in town?” he repeated his question.

You swallowed nervously before sighing. “I'm on my period,” you whispered, heat creeping up to your face. “And I'm out of tampons.”

Realisation struck Daryl like a ton of bricks. “Oh,” he mumbled, awkwardly fiddling with his hands.

In all honesty, Daryl wasn't weirded out by you saying that, but he didn't know how to go about the information you gave him. He only had the tiniest grain of knowledge about women's periods—thanks to the many women his dad brought home—but he knew that freaking out about it wasn't the way to go. You were one of the most important people in the world to him, and by god he would do anything to ensure that you knew that you could go to him whenever you needed anything, even for something like you needing period products.

“Ya want me to give ya a ride to the store?” he asked, completely taking you by surprise.

“No, I don't want to trouble you. I'll just walk,” you declined his offer, nervously hugging yourself in an attempt to appear nonchalant and simultaneously ward off the pain that would soon stab through your lower abdomen.

“I ain't lettin' ya walk, especially this close to dark. God knows what trouble is waitin' if ya set foot outside this trailer park alone. Tha' new motorcycle gang likes to hang 'round here and I dun' want them to get any ideas with ya,” Daryl replied steadfastly, his mind already set on escorting you to the store.

You smiled at Daryl's worry towards you. It was rare to see his softer side, but when you did, you always cherished it. Daryl Dixon truly was unlike any man you've ever met.

“Fine,” you relented, your voice adapting the playful tone from earlier. “You can drive me, but just so you know, I'm taking advantage of your hospitality. I need to buy some groceries anyways, but I never got around to it because it would be too much to carry if I walked.”

Daryl's lips twitched up into a half smile and nodded. “Alrigh',” he agreed. “But yer buyin' me a Coke fer my valiant efforts of simply drivin' ya to the store.”

“Deal,” you laughed lightly, unaware of the effect it had on Daryl. His heart quickened at the sweet sound of your melodic laughter and he had to duck his head to hide the blush that formed on his face.

“Let's go.” He motioned for you to follow him and you obliged after grabbing the grocery list, following him out of your trailer and over to his neighbouring trailer. The two of you quietly made your way over to his beat down truck, a vehicle he was 'graciously' being lent by his older brother. Or as Daryl once told you, Merle simply dropped it off one day after getting his motorcycle and just seemed to forget about its existence. So now the truck unofficially belonged to the younger Dixon brother.

You opened the passenger side of the vehicle and got in, closing the door behind you. Daryl got into the driver's side and started the truck, his eyes glancing around at the wrappers and few empty cigarette boxes that littered the floor. “Sorry 'bout the mess.”

“It's fine,” you reassured him. “It certainly doesn't look worse than my trailer when my mom and I have been too lazy to clean up.”

Daryl quietly nodded and started the drive to the store, pulling out of the trailer park. The drive was mostly spent in silence until about five minutes in when a bunch of motorcycles whirled past the truck in the opposite direction. Daryl visibly stiffened after one particular motorcycle drove past and you frowned, placing your hand on his arm to try and ease his tension. At the unexpected action, Daryl tensed slightly but soon relaxed under your tender touch.

“Who was it? The guy on the motorcycle? You seem to know him,” you questioned, earning a disgruntled sigh in response.

“'S my brother,” he responded after a moment's hesitation. “He's back in town fer a while but I dun' know why. He hasn't bothered to come see me.”

“Merle's back?” you asked, trying to keep the distaste out of your voice, but failing miserably, causing a small smile to fall on Daryl's face.

It was no secret to Daryl that you despised his brother. The few limited interactions you had with the man were enough to fuel your distaste. Merle either made sexual passes at you, insulted you or questioned your intentions with Daryl. When you didn't fall for his advances or insults, he'd take a jab at your friendship with his younger brother, claiming that Daryl was "pussy whipped" and that you were taking advantage of him. Daryl always immediately shut him down, but that never stopped Merle. Each time it took walking back into your trailer to get the man to shut up.

“Yeah,” Daryl confirmed, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “I think he joined tha' new motorcycle gang. He's a stupid son of a bitch, my brother. Never learns his lesson, but wha' can I do? He ain't ever gonna listen to me.”

“He's a grown man. He'll hopefully learn from his mistakes,” you started, knowing your words probably weren't much comfort for him right now. “If you want, I can punch some sense into him. I've been wanting to punch him for a while now.”

That seemed to lighten Daryl's mood a bit. His lips twitched into a half smile. “Nah, but thanks fer the kind offer. I'll let ya know if I ever need ya to punch him fer me.”

“Please do. I'll practice and everything,” you joked, playfully punching the air in front of you for added effect, eliciting a small chuckle from him.

“Alrigh', Bruce Lee, we're here,” he laughed quietly, parking the car outside the store.

The two of you got out of the truck and moved to the store. Once inside, Daryl grabbed a shopping cart and leaned his arms on the handle bar, looking at you expectantly. “Where to first, boss lady?”

You giggled and took the grocery list from the back pocket of your jeans, unfolding the paper and starting your list. “We'll come back to the period things later. Let's get the necessities out of the way first.”

Daryl pushed the cart as he followed behind you, walking into one of the grocery aisles. “Tampons ain't a necessity?” he asked, curiously watching you search for the cheapest pasta before adding it to the cart.

You shrugged and walked on, hearing the squeaks from the wheels on the cart following closely behind. “It is, but not before food. I can always improvise or ask one of the neighbour ladies for it, but I don't want to ask for food.”

Daryl nodded, although you couldn't see him. “Yeah, tha's understandable,” he said, his eyes scanning over the products in the aisle.

You continued grabbing things on your list, adding them to the cart. You even grabbed two bags of chips and the Coke you promised Daryl, as well as a drink for yourself. After that, you made your way over to the feminine hygiene section and started looking over the various different choices, searching for your preferred items.

“Wha' the fuck?” you heard Daryl whisper behind you, prompting you to turn around and look at him. You giggled at the sight in front of you; Daryl holding a pack of pads whilst his eyes trailed over the different period products, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What?” you asked with a giggle, gaining Daryl's attention.

“Why the hell do y'all need so many different things fer yer pussy blood?” he asked bluntly, eliciting an amused laugh from you.

“First of all, don't call it pussy blood. That's disgusting. Second of all, it's all about preference. Some women prefer pads, others prefer tampons and other things. And not everyone is the same. Some women have heavier flows and some women need bigger tampons and pads than others,” you explained, amused at the deep frown Daryl wore.

Daryl nodded slowly. “Alrigh',” he started. “But still, it's a lot. Tampons, pads... And wha' the hell is a fuckin' diva cup? Y'all use tha' to make tea fer yer pussies or somethin'?”

“No,” you responded, laughing lightly at the confused man. “I don't know how a diva cup works because I've never used one, but it's for our periods. Like I said, preference. Some women prefer diva cups over pads and tampons.”

Daryl shook his head slightly and turned away from the shelves, focusing his eyes back on you. “Well, ya got whatever pads or tampons ya prefer? Or do ya use somethin' else that wasn't named in yer explanation?”

You rolled your eyes and smiled, amused. You grabbed a box of tampons, as well as a box of pads, and added them to the cart. “No, I use pads and tampons, don't worry.”

“Why would I worry?” Daryl asked, pushing the cart as the two of you walked over to pay for the groceries.

“I just meant that you didn't have to worry about there being any more "period product" surprises. I don't think you would've been able to handle it if I told you there was more,” you explained.

“Well... 'S there?” he asked hesitantly, chewing on his lower lip.

“Yeah.”

You walked ahead to the checkout aisle, leaving Daryl baffled behind you. He sped up to catch up to you, and together you started unloading the items.

“This was more than I bargained fer when I offered to come to the store with ya,” Daryl said, handing off items to be scanned.

“I said I would walk,” you replied nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders. “Would've spared you the headache you got from looking at all those different brands and stuff.”

“Nah, I'd take the headache over somethin' happenin' to ya. Walkin' alone ain't safe,” he retorted, giving you a stern look.

“I would've been fine.”

“Maybe, but I wouldn't risk it. Still ain't gonna risk it.”

“Ah, young love,” the lady working at the cash register interrupted, startling both you and Daryl. “You two lovebirds are absolutely adorable.”

Daryl ducked his head in embarrassment, a blush spreading across his face. You could feel your own face flush with heat as well.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, handing the owed amount over to the cashier before moving over to grab a few bags.

Daryl followed your lead and grabbed most of the bags. Together the two of you walked out of the store and over to his truck. You placed the bags in the back of the truck before getting into the passenger side, Daryl getting into the driver's side. He silently started up the vehicle and pulled out of the parking lot, starting the drive back to the trailer park.

“Thank you, by the way,” you said after a few minutes of silence, shifting Daryl's attention to you.

“Fer wha'?” he asked in confusion, shifting his eyes from the road to you and then back again.

“The ride. And for making me laugh. It was nice.”

“My confusion was amusin' to ya?” he asked with a small smile, glancing over to you.

“No, but the things you said were. Especially the thing about the diva cup. Comedy gold right there,” you said with a smile, gaining a quiet chuckle in return.

“Glad I could make ya laugh,” he replied, before a look of realisation crossed his face. “Wait, ain't ya supposed to be in pain? From wha' I know, period's are supposed to hurt.”

At his words, realisation dawned on you. You could suddenly feel a dull ache in your lower abdomen, a telltale sign of a greater pain awaiting you in a few hours. You just hoped that you had some ibuprofen left back at home.

“I'm fine for now,” you reassured him. “The pain's manageable.”

Daryl nodded. The rest of the drive was spent in silence, save for the rumble of the engine and the wind coming through the open windows. You stared outside at the rising moon, the stars starting to light up the approaching night sky. The trailer park soon came into view and Daryl pulled up to your trailer instead of his, putting the vehicle into park. However, instead of getting out, Daryl tensed up as he stared ahead at his trailer.

You followed his line of sight and saw what he was looking at; his father leading a woman into the trailer. His father shut the door behind him, effectively cutting off your line of sight. You turned to Daryl and saw his jaw clenched in anger, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as his mind seemed to be in another place. You doubted that Daryl even remembered you were still in the truck with him.

“You can stay over if you want,” you said quietly, snapping Daryl from his wandering thoughts. “My mom's working the night shift down at the bar. I've got the trailer to myself tonight and I wouldn't mind having some company.”

Daryl hesitated for a moment. “Ya sure? I can go home. Doubt the old man would notice me slippin' in anyway.”

You nodded your head at him. “I'm sure. Come on.”

Daryl followed you from the truck and into your trailer, carrying most of the bags so that you could unlock the door. Once you were inside and he placed the bags down, he silently admired you as you grabbed a bowl to pour the bought chips into.

Daryl appreciated the fact that you never pried. He had told you once about his father and what he did to him because you'd accidentally caught sight of one of the scars on his back. However, instead of pity, you offered him comfort and understanding, telling him that you were there if he ever needed to talk to someone or needed an escape. You never brought up his home life or his scars, and only ever talked about it if he initiated the sensitive conversation first, which was rare. Because of that, Daryl was convinced that you were an angel in human form. You understood him in a way nobody did, and he would forever be grateful for the chance he got to know you.

You could feel Daryl's intense gaze on you and you could feel your face heat up. Daring to be confident for a moment, you glanced up and locked eyes with him. “See something you like?”

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed in agreement, completely capturing you off guard. You inhaled sharply and tried to slow your racing heart.

Daryl inwardly cursed himself. He hadn't meant to let that slip, but he had gotten so lost in his thoughts and admiration of you that he acted before properly thinking. He blushed for what felt like the thousandth time that day and ducked his head, finding the floor very interesting all of a sudden.

“Well,” you started after clearing your throat, grabbing the bowl of chips and the drinks you bought for you both and walking the short distance into the living room, Daryl hot on your tail. “I'm glad you enjoyed the view. It's my "I desperately need to wash my hair" look.”

Daryl chuckled but said nothing. He got comfortable on the couch, sitting beside you as you handed him the Coke you promised him. “Thanks,” he said, nudging his nose up at you in a nod. “How's yer stomach?”

“Surprisingly okay. I guess the pain decided to give me a break for now. I probably won't be so lucky tomorrow, though,” you responded.

You grabbed the remote and hit play on the movie that Daryl had picked out earlier before you went into town, the opening sequence playing loudly. However, about ten minutes into the movie, Daryl took the remote from you and paused it again, confusing you.

“Can I ask ya somethin'?” he asked unexpectedly, his face conveying how nervous he was.

“Of course,” you replied without hesitation, shifting on the couch until your body completely faced him.

“I dun'... I dun' really know how to ask ya this, and I really hope this won't ruin anythin' between us, but I need to know if ya feel the same,” Daryl nervously said, fiddling with his hands in his lap.

“Daryl, what-”

“Nah, let me finish, please. 'S jus'... Yer so perfect to me, y'know tha'? Yer so kind, so carin', so affectionate. Yer basically a ray of sunshine. Yer the complete opposite of me, and ya could spend yer time with someone who deserves ya, but ya choose to hang out with me. Even though 'm damaged goods and I ain't gonna be nothin' more than a dumb, redneck scum, ya always treat me like 'm this fine piece of priceless art or somethin', and I dun' get why. Yer-”

The sudden pressure of your lips against his instantly shut him up. His eyes widened for a moment before he closed them, his hands instinctively going to rest on your waist. The kiss was slow and hesitant, but loving and sweet at the same time. It was perfect and neither of you wanted it to end, but you soon pulled away, looking into Daryl's ocean coloured eyes.

“You're not damaged goods and you're not a dumb, redneck scum. Don't ever say that about yourself again, you hear me?” you told him quietly, your hands gently resting on his cheeks. After he nodded, you continued. “Where's all of this coming from? I'm not complaining at all, but it's kind of unexpected.”

“I've felt this way fer a while now,” he explained, taking one of your hands off of his face and playing with your fingers. “I never said anythin' because I didn't want to scare ya off, but after tha' lady called us 'lovebirds' and ya offered to let me stay over without question after ya saw my expression earlier... I dun' know, I guess I jus' needed to let ya know how I felt. Didn't know if ya'd feel the same, though.”

You smiled at him and leaned forward to press another kiss to his lips, this one more firm and sure than the first one. “I do feel the same,” you confirmed after you pulled away. “I just never thought you'd like me.”

“Guess we both wasted time not sayin' anythin' 'til now, huh?” he asked, giving you a boyish smile.

“Definitely,” you nodded in agreement, a huge smile on your face.

“I guess we have to thank yer time of the month fer this happenin',” Daryl said. “If it didn't start and we didn't go to the store, tha' lady never would've called us 'lovebirds' and we never would've seen my father and tha' woman enterin' the trailer, so ya wouldn't have asked me to stay over. I probably would've gone home by now if we didn't have to go to the store and probably would've never gotten the balls to say anythin'.”

“I never thought I would be this grateful for my period, but I am now,” you said, leaning your forehead against his.

Daryl closed the remaining gap between the two of you, the two of you descending into a slow, hungry kiss. You brought your arms around his neck and his arms encircled around your waist, bringing you closer into his arms. As the two of you got lost in the moment, you didn't hear the trailer door opening, too caught up in each other to hear anything else. However, the clearing of someone's throat startled you, the two of you practically jumping apart.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” your mom asked with a raised eyebrow, her hands on her hips as she looked over the two of you.

You looked over at Daryl, your face flaming with heat at being caught by your mom. Daryl's eyes widened as fear crossed his face, his breathing heavy from your previous actions. You turned your attention back to your mom and sighed.

“Mom, don't freak out. I promise I can explain.”

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader

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rodrickheffley · 2 years

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finally wrote coming out drafts to my parents

#i say at 8 months on t #i just am sooo avoidant abt it every time i would think of it id get too stressed then i forget abt it for a while then its a bad time #but im volunteering rn and im just like sitting here so i did it #cant send em yet tho cuz my dads birthday is on monday and i wanna wait til after that so i can call him #cuz ik its gonna take me a long time to be able to read their responses #also i want my sibling to read them over #mostly im worried abt what they r gonna think of my name choice. my mom is the type of person to voice her judgment on it #and i feel weirdly guilty abt changing my name idk

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curlyhairedprince · 7 months

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You talk about your dad, he used to get so angry. He'd scare you and your brother 'til you felt you needed saving. I know I'd let you in on all my bad decisions, you'd make them feel less terrible the second that you'd listen. You say we share a brain, apologizing for it, but take it as a compliment. Send me every song that keeps you up from sleeping, I bet I could recite 'em all. I won't forget the feeling staying up with you, despite the space between us. I've never felt this close to someone, what if you're my weakness?

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lovebugism · 1 year

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i feel like stevie definitely has a breeding kink it’s just like a gut feeling i have you know

✶ ┄ WHAT YOU WANT !

summary: steve harrington wants you to make him a dad pairing: steve harrington / f!reader warnings: smut. literally just smut. not a hint of a plot. 18+ mdni a/n: here i am with another smutty steve headcanon, can u believe it? all of these asks are doing some irreversible damage to my psyche i think

( MASTERLIST )

anon, you're absolutely right

obv steve wants a family everyone knows that

so i feel like once he’s settled down with a pretty serious gf, he’s got baby fever to the extreme

he just wants to mark you from the inside out

which could also stem from his lil jealousy problem bc he wants everyone to know that you belong to him

he’s got you on your back with your legs thrown over his shoulders

one hand presses into your lower stomach as he fucks you like it might be the last time he’ll ever get to do it

he pounds into you with his head tilted back, mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut

“gonna fill you up. over and over and— holy shit— over again. get you all nice and round for me— fuck”

he doesn’t even realize what he’s saying

he’s just rambling bc you’re making him feel so goddamn good

“fuck, stevie...” you whine with a scrunched up face as you near your own peak

you’ve got one hand clutching the wrist of the one he's got resting against your belly

while your other trails down his torso

your nails leave red scratches on his skin as they weave through the hair at his chest and settle at his happy trail

your back bows when he thrusts into you as deep as he can possibly go

and the moan you let out then stems from your fucking soul or smth it’s so guttural

it’s borderline embarrassing but you’re not even focusing on that

you’re mainly concerned at how violently your legs have tensed and started to shake around his shoulders

“move your hand” he tells you, suddenly stern

it’s not a request

you hadn’t even recognized your feeble attempt to stop him from drilling into you

but he just wants you to lay there all pretty for him

and let him give you everything he has to give you like a good girl

all you can do is whine because he’s fucked you so stupid

“not gonna tell you again, sweetheart”

even with your hand pressing against him, he rolls his hips slowly against yours

you’re so full and he’s already so deep, you can almost feel him in your throat

the pleasure he so effortlessly gives you is borderline overwhelming but you listen to him anyway

and he doesn’t waste any time before giving you long, deep strokes into your fluttering cunt

“there you go, baby. just like that. just like that. always so good for me… s’gonna make me come in this pussy”

you whine beneath him and tears burn as they well in your eyes

you need him to come in you more than you need to breathe

but you’re already so sensitive that it’s made you terrified of any more pleasure

you just wanna be a good girl for the man fucking you for all your worth

“that what you want, honey? wanna have my kids?”

you’re nodding before you even realize it with your kiss-bitten bottom lip caught between your teeth

“yeah, i know you do, baby. that’s why you’re such a slut for my dick, isn’t it?”

you keen at that

his words have you creaming around his cock while your mouth hangs in a silent moan

and he keeps on fucking you through it, turning you out like it’s nothing

you need him to fill you up

you want so badly for him to fuck you until you’re leaking around him

and steve gives you exactly what you want without you have to say a goddamn thing

his hips stutter as he whines

“fuck, honey. i’m about to come in this pussy… gonna have you— shit, baby— gonna have you all barefoot and pregnant for me— fuck, fuck, fuck—”

he comes in you barely a second later

his warmth blossoms in you like a flower and your walls flutter around him, suckling him in with greed

and he whines while you milk him for all he’s worth

have any blurb requests? send 'em here if you want!

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #st blurb #stevie hc

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tootiecakes234 · 5 months

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Dad Katsuki and implied black reader (but open to everyone)

Katsuki Bakugo is good at almost everything he tries. A lot comes naturally but if not, he puts in minimal effort and then ends up exceeding.

But the one thing…… the one thing that he can’t wrap his head around is styling hair. Obvi, you have seen the way he tries to “style” his own hair.

He’d tried to help you with yours before but he couldn’t even figure out how to get the lumps out of a ponytail. He gave up after about 30 minutes of trying and never offered to help you with it again.

But of course you guys had gotten pregnant and had not one but two little girls.

One day you’re sick and there’s no way you’re about to get up and try and get those little gremlins ready for school.

“Don’t worry about it. I got time before I gotta head out. I got em.” He groans after the alarm goes off for you to wake up.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly because no one was screaming or crying. You eventually drift back to sleep.

Until… “ Noooooo!” And it scares you awake. That sounds like your oldest daughter. “ ‘m not going to school like this! Other kids will make fun of me!”

You fumble out of bed and start heading towards the child screaming bloody murder.

“Ya look fine. Anyone picks on you and I’ll kick their ass.” Katsuki says back to her.

Then all you hear from your youngest child is “Ass, Ass, Ass! Daddy said Ass.” And her giggles following after. The child is a menace to any situation.

When you finally get to the door you completely understand the situation.

Your baby girl is sporting “pigtails” that are uneven and crooked, and your oldest has what looks like chunky plats in her hair. They both look a hot ass mess.

“Both of you be quite! Your mom is trying to sleep! And you, stop saying ass. It’s a bad word.” He shouts loudly back at them.

“Daddy look at this! I look awful. Please don’t make me go to school like this.” Then the tears start falling and you finally make your presence known.

“Ok, ok.” It comes out all scratchy. “Everyone calm down.”

The youngest runs up to you and squeezes you leg, “mama, daddy’s gonna kick ass”

You pick her up and further examine the horrific job your husband made to her hair. “Oh yea?” And your brow lifts towards Kats because you’ve told him over and over to stop cussing in front of your kids.

“Mhmm” and she nods her head.

“Mom! Look at what dad did to my hair!?! I can’t go to school like this. Please fix it.” And she runs over to you with pleading eyes.

“Your mom is sick and your hair is fine. Now cut it out and get dressed.

“Da-“ but you cut her off.

“Katsuki this is not fine. It’d be a form of torture to send them to school like this. Come on sweet girls. I’ll fix it really quickly so you’re not late.”, you mumble and start taking them both to the bathroom.

“Are ya serious? It doesn’t look that bad.” At this point you think he’s trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

“They look a mess Kats. Not sending my kids to school lookin like they aren’t loved.” And both your daughters start giggling at that.

“What the hell ever. I’m gonna go pack their lunches.”, and he stomps off toward the kitchen.

It takes you about 15 minutes to get them both done. You have a little extra time so you throw some cute bows and accessories in there just to show him what a cute hairstyle actually looks like.

“Ok whaddya guys think”, you ask them

“I’m cute” the younger one says and she’s playing with her hair.

“It’s a lot better. Thanks mom.”

You help them finish getting ready and then shuffle them in the kitchen.

“Daddy, mommy fixed your hot ass mess” your older daughter says as she sits at the table to eat breakfast.

Katsuki stands there with his mouth agape. “What the hell did you just say?”

And everyone burst out laughing.

“Don’t be mad. Momma said I could say it.” She says with a huge smile on her face.

“Just the one time. Cuz (youngest daughter name) got to cuss cuz of you this morning.”

“Haha…. This whole family is freakin hilarious.”, he grunts and serves them their breakfast.

While their eating Katsuki walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist. “You think you’re better than me hah?”

“At doing hair… 1000%. At being the strongest, sexiest dad?? Never.”, you say and grin up at him all cheeky.

“You’re so annoying. Take your ass to bed you look exhausted.”

Next thing you hear is “Ass to bed. Take ass to bed” being sung at this top of the little one’s lungs.

You just know you’re gonna get a call from her school today and it’s all Katsuki’s fault.

Katsuki Masterlist

#imagine #bakugou x reader #katsuki x black!reader #mha fanfiction #bakugou drabble #bakugou katsuki x reader #drabble #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugo headcanons #fluff #katsuki fluff #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha katsuki #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #dad katsuki fluff

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devilmademewriteit · 1 year

Note

Drabble request for dbf!joel getting blown under the table or something while he's having a convo with reader's dad?!?! IDK I just love your dbf!joel!!

You Can Be the Boss

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!afab!reader

warnings: rough oral (m receiving); petnames (angel, baby, sweetheart); age gap; choking; hair pulling; (yall this is pure pure daddy issues FILTH, I warned you. I warned you hard).

Hi y’all ty for sending me all ur requests. ummm you guys are insane ! and so am I ! maybe more because I’m actually the one writing these ! this one is so dirty ! don’t say I didn’t warn you !

more to come hehehe. I don’t tag ppl for my smaller drabbles / fics so turn on notifs or whatevs ;)

-em<3

—

“As close as I’ll get to the darkness, he tells me to, ‘Shut up, I got this.’”

- You Can Be the Boss

—

It was still a secret, after all.

Sneaking into his apartment, late nights in alleys, abandoned cars lining the streets of the QZ… you’d managed to keep your joint intoxication with one another under wraps.

Today… today was risky. You usually waited until the wee hours of the morning to even walk by his place, let alone enter, but you’d needed to drop off a sweater that Tess had leant you the previous week, intending to leave it folded up on the doormat before bolting down the hall. Your footsteps were nervous and heavy, which led to the door swinging wide open on its hinges, a gruff “where you runnin’ off to, Angel?” and a set of rough hands pulling you through the doorway.

Then you were spread open against the tattered table cloth of his (busy) kitchen table, underwear shoved to the side, watching a hunched over Joel Fucking Miller spit on his hand and run it up down his heavy, hard length.

“Shouldn’t come here during the day,” as he’d lined himself up, “Can’t fuckin’ help myself.”

That’s when you heard the definite sound of a key twisting inside a lock. Joel’s head shot up — your eyes barely had time to widen before he was shoving you under the table, panties still twisted around your ankles.

A quick zip, then footsteps.

“Oh, sorry man—”

Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“—Tess said you wouldn’t be home.”

It’s your father.

You thank God for your his poor observation skills (and the tablecloth) as Joel responds, “ah, no worries,” frustratingly non-chalant as ever.

“While you’re here though,” and your heart sinks, identifying your dad’s intention to stay, “Was wondering if we could go over the plans for our new routes. FEDRA assholes blocked off another south-east one today.”

Your blood turns to ice inside your veins as both men pull out their chairs, settling into a purely-business conversation. Joel barely hesitates, cool as ice.

Not fair that he gets to be so calm while you’re so… not.

Not fair.

If only there was a way to even out the playing field.

Crunched into yourself, you scoot closer to Joel’s calves, clinging onto his denim and doing your best to make as little noise as possible. When it’s clear, however, that your father’s far too invested in the practicalities of the conversation to suspect or inquire into or even notice anything else, your eyes wander towards the slowly softening bulge, still visible underneath Joel’s belt.

And you get an idea.

The man always tortured you, and you were well aware that what made your arrangement especially enticing — for the both of you — was the taboo-ness, the wrongness of it all.

So your pussy drips just thinking about it.

Slowly, delicately, you slide your hands up Joel’s thighs, feeling his every muscle respond, tensing, turning to stone, or jolting with electricity beneath your playful touches.

It’s hard, quietly pulling down his fly. Still, metal tooth by metal tooth, you eventually succeed, unable to hold back a smile of vindication when his cock springs up, swelling and hardening between your fingertips. Joel covers his choke with a cough.

Just as you duck down to lick a fat stripe up his cock’s dark underside, noticing how the lungs above you constrict — freezing — the conversation changes.

“You been seeing a lot of my daughter?”

Joel takes an uncharacteristically long time to grunt out a “here n’ there.”

You hold in a laugh, both at your dad’s timely question and the reaction it causes. Placing a hand at the base of him, you consider this the perfect moment to start teasing his tip with patient, innocent little kitten-licks.

“Been acting weird,” your old man continues, unphased and unassuming, “Worried she’s been gettin’ herself into trouble.”

Trouble? You’re looking at him.

Your dad’s whole “fatherly concern” (not like he’d ever shown any before) angle makes you bold. You want to make it harder for Joel to deny your father’s suspicion.

You want to make him lie through his teeth.

You part your lips, wrapping them adoringly around the entire head of his cock before gliding down, using your hand to assist you as you please every inch of him.

While he mostly manages to keep it together, his legs don’t, gently parting with desire to allow you better access.

“She-she’s a good girl, man,” Joel manages, and while his delivery borders a groan, he stays surprisingly level (your body doesn’t forget to note his praise, either, aching cunt growing wetter and wetter at his every word). “‘Bit juvenile sometimes, and reckless—” he pauses, and it’s very clear he’s not speaking to your father, “—but good—” you work every inch of him with your hands, throat, and mouth, savouring the feel of his ridges and veins, the taste of his salt on your tastebuds, “—so good.”

You freeze, scanning the room for tension as both you and Joel try to figure out if his desire-stricken tone’s given you away.

It hasn’t.

Of course it hasn’t.

Your dad continues on as if everything were normal, as if Joel’s tip wasn’t kissing the back of your throat. “Just not sure if I’m raising her right—or… or if I was much of a father at all.”

Yeah, probably not. You know, given that I’m under the table sucking your best friend’s dick.

You watch, head still slowly bobbing up and down his length, a hand carving a careful path down his leg. Joel’s fingertips breach your shoulder, his palm slowly graduates to cupping the back of your head.

And he shoves you forward, forcing every punishing inch of himself down your little, gasping throat.

“Just needs a little discipline,” your torturer responds, raising his gravelly voice to mask the definite sound of choking.

“A heavy hand.”

You huff against his abdomen. Just like that, Joel’s taken the reins of your little operation.

Like he always did. Like he always does.

“You’re probably right,” your father responds, sighing with concession. Tears begin to well in the corners of your eyes while your lungs burn for oxygen, mouth stuffed and nose pressed into Joel’s skin. He chuckles, slapping the table. “Give ‘em an inch and they take a mile, huh?”

“That’s right,” Joel responds, a soft coo, tightening his grasp in your hair and somehow forcing more of himself between your lips.

Making his point.

You hold back a whimper, nails hopelessly clawing at his jeans.

Your dad raps his knuckles against the wood, pushing his chair back to leave. Unfortunately for you, Joel doesn’t move, holding you there like a prisoner — suffocating you.

He clears his throat. “I’d walk you out, but, you know—” your eyelids grow heavy, little stars beginning to dance in your vision “—been goin’ hard recently. Wearin’ myself out.”

A huff of understanding and concurrence from the other side of the room.

Eventually, after what seems like an eternity, hinges squeak, goodbyes are uttered, and your father’s left you alone with his buddy again.

Joel’s chair scrapes back — he pulls you along with him, attached to him, out from underneath the table.

Finally, finally, he releases his grasp.

You jump off of him, strings of saliva trailing from your lips, gasping for air as if you were seconds from drowning.

You aim to collapse against his knees, but he quickly grabs you by the throat, presses his big thumb under your chin, and forces your wet, tear-lined eyes up to meet his.

They’re filled with a lust so dark, you wonder if just that look might swallow you whole.

“Prouda yourself?” He speaks, voice low.

Dangerous.

And you just smile, dazed, nodding. Nodding because you know where it’ll get you. Nodding because you just know how much it’ll entice him.

“‘Course you are,” he continues, softer, “Shoulda been honest — shoulda told your old man he raised a fuckin’ slut.”

Joel lifts you up, indelicately shoving you down on the table, right back in the position you’d originally started the visit in.

His eyes darken to black when he sees how wet you are, how fucked-out, needy, and unapologetic you are.

“And you know what, baby?” A deceiving coo as he lines himself up at your entrance, using his other hand to squeeze your jaw — tight.

You look at him with big, begging doe eyes, eyebrows already knitting together from the tantalizing contact.

“I’m really fuckin’ glad he did.”

And as Joel Miller roughly sheathes his cock inside your young, tight cunt, you find yourself agreeing with him.

—

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST

AO3

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #Joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #Pedro pascal smut #Pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #tlou #request for em’s answering machine: answered<3

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miniwheat77 · 10 months

Text

Brat pt. 2 (dbf!Captain Price.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, unprotected p in v sex, John being a gentleman 🥰, virginity loss, mention of body shaming, thigh riding (sorry if I missed any.)

“How has Y/N been lately?” John asks your dad.

It’s been a few weeks since you’ve seen him. “Oh she’s been great, I’m not sure what was going on with her.” He shrugs. You were off at a friends house right now, it was just John and your dad. They’re in your back yard, making burgers for dinner on the grill. “Maybe she just needed out of the house.” He smiles. “Yeah maybe. I’m sure she’s going stir crazy being done with school and all that.” He laughs, flipping one of the beef Pattie’s with a spatula. “She’s been out so much lately.” He sighs. “Is that bad?” John asks. “No of course not, it’s just hard. She’s eighteen now yeah but she still had to abide by my rules. I just hate that she’s growing up. I don’t want her getting herself into trouble thinking she’s more mature than she actually is.” John is listening, choosing to let your dad vent versus talking.

“I mean.. even when she was a little girl, she always liked older guys. Like.. thirties and above. She’s never liked guys her age. And I understand. Boys her age are nothing but.. sex driven assholes. I just worry so bad about her walking into the arms of the wrong man.” He sighs. For a minute, John feels bad. Like he’s taken advantage of you. You seemed so mature for your age, maybe he’d missed it.

“I’ve always monitored her stuff. Cell phones, computer. Everything. Behind her back of course. Just to make sure she never started talking to anyone online or any of that but I stopped because she’s adult now, deserves her privacy n all that. I never found anything out of the ordinary.” He shrugs. “She’s a smart girl. I’m sure she’ll be just fine.” John shrugs. “Yeah, I know. I just worry cause it’s my kid. Even though her attitude kills me sometimes.” He laughs. John smiles. “She does got quite the attitude.”

Your dad shakes his head with a smile. "Sometimes she's real nice, a real good girl. Other times I just wanna strangle her." He groans. John laughs, taking a drink of his beer. "She'll get better mate, it takes a while. I'm sure she's just figuring everything out." Your dad nods. "Yeah. You try saying that when she's being a brat." He rolls his eyes. "Send her my way. Little military training wouldn't hurt" He laughs. Your dad smiles. "That's a great idea actually. Although with how mean she can get she might humble you a little bit. Got a bite just like her dad." He laughs. "Sure it's nothing I can't handle."

He laughs. Just then, they hear your car pull into the driveway, an awful squeak coming from your car as you come to a halt. "Fuck." Your dad grumbles. "What?" John asks. "I told her I'd look at her breaks last weekend and never got around to it." He sighs. "I'm not doing anything, I can look at 'em while you're at work." He shrugs. "Oh that'd be great, thanks John." He smiles. You step out the back door, smiling when you see the both of them. Sundress blowing in the wind. "Are we gossiping out here?" You smirk. "Yeah about you. John's gonna take a look at your brakes so you can quit bugging me about it." He nudges you. "It just needs new brake pads." You roll your eyes. "I'll find something else to bug you about just because you said that." You smirk. "Yeah. I'm gonna send you John's way when you’re acting like a brat. He'll get you whipped into shape." He winks. Patting your shoulder. Your heart falls into your stomach, and your dad passes by you into your house, John nearly spits his beer out at your expression. Your cheeks are bright red and your eyes are wide. "He meant.. military punishments. We were joking about it." He laughs. "Oh.. Okay." You breathe. You needed to get the hell out of there. "Bring your car over, I'll look at it." You nod your head, hurrying off to hide your blushing cheeks.

Your heart settles in your chest as you climb into your car, starting up the engine. You notice John’s garage door opening. You pull out of you driveway and maneuver your car into his, pulling into his garage until he tells you to stop. He closes the garage door behind you. “I already have the brake pads and rotors.” You fidget with your hands nervously, you’re alone with him again. “Alright, so this will be easy than.” He smiles.

He gathers everything he’ll need. Tools, car jack. He even had some extra oil laying around. Figuring he’d just do it while he’s working on your car.

As he’s working on it, he starts asking questions. Not easing into it, jumping in head first. “So. I’ve heard your dad mention more than once that you’re into older guys. There a reason?”

His blunt question sends crimson up your cheeks. “Uh…” you pause. “Because guys my age suck.” You breathe. “Well yeah, but there’s got to be a reason. Have you ever even dated someone your age?” He asks. “Yes.” You breathe. “That’s the reason I don’t like them.” You laugh awkwardly. “What happened?” He asks. “Um..” you shift uncomfortably. He emerges from underneath the car, he’d finished up already. He leans up against it, crossing him arms. You’re sitting on a bench by his toolbox. “Go on.” You sigh. “Tried to pressure me into having sex with him. I wasn’t interested.” John nods his head. “That’s it?” He asks. You groan. “No. He was controlling. Wouldn’t let me wear shorts, monitored my social media, told me my thighs were too big and that he didn’t like my stretch marks. And I know it could be all guys but older men have been much kinder to me than guys my age.” John smiles. “Sweetheart.. I hate to break it to you.” He adjusts his beanie that he’s wearing. “But guys will be nice to you no matter what if they want something from you.” His eyes travel to the sweet spot between your legs, noticing you shift yourself uncomfortably. He can see the way you’re sitting now, eyes filling with tears. He feels like an asshole. You probably weren’t ready to hear that.

“Not all of them. Especially if I don’t tell them that I’m a Virgin to begin with.” You avoid his gaze. He nods his head. “Y/N. You’re a sweet girl and I’m not trying to be a prick here. But all men have some kind of flaw, even your dad does. I can be mean when I don’t want to be.” He shrugs. “You have to find someone you tolerate the most, because we all suck.” He laughs. “I didn’t mean to upset you, darling.” He moved toward you, placing his hand on your thigh. “It’s okay.” You mumble. “I can be mean too.”

He smiles, looking down. “Did you only touch me because.. because you want to use me?” You look up at him. “No, no.” He breathes. “I gave you a bad example.” He sighs. “What happened between you and I Y/N.. it wasn’t right. I wasn’t right to touch you like that.” He chuckles. “I’m not right for you, you deserve far better than anyone like me. The reason I brought this up is just because I don’t think anyone will be good enough for you. You’re the perfect, pretty, bratty girl.” He smiles. “And you deserve the fucking world.” His hand is still on your thigh, he’s close to you. “John?” You look up at him. “Yeah?”

“You said what happened was bad..” he nods his head. “Am I a bad girl if I liked it?” You bite your lip. Your tone of voice, the way you’re looking up at him. It’s killing him. He hisses under his breath, the way you’re looking at him should not be allowed. It’s pure sin. “No. Because it feels good. It was wrong of me to put you in that position.” He breathes. You sigh. “I liked it.” You breathe. “I think about it all of the time, try to replicate the way I felt myself but I can’t even come close.” You whimper, pushing your hips toward the end of the bench, clenching your thighs together. His eyes travel down, seeing your reaction to just the thought of him alone. He turns away from you, he needs to get the fuck out of here before he does anything else. “You’ll learn. It’s best you figure out what your body likes best before you trust someone else with it.” He reassures you. You nod your head. “It’s been years and nothing makes it feel better.” You laugh. A part of you knows that you’re teasing him. But another part of you doesn’t realize just how hard you’re making him. “What do you mean?” He asks. “I.. I’ve been getting this.. tightness in my stomach. I didn’t know that.. it was.” You blush. “I didn’t know it was because I was turned on. Until I was talking to some friends at school a couple years ago and heard them talking about sex and what felt good. No matter how I touch myself, it just doesn’t feel right.” You breathe. “But.. when you did it..” you shift in your seat. “Changed everything.” You breathe. You’re a horny mess on his bench right now, and he’s doing everything he can to hold himself back.

He notices your dad pulling out of your driveway though the small window in his garage, off to work. Your mom had already left for her night shift job as well.

You were completely alone with John. For hours.

“What does it feel like?” You ask. Looking up at him. He moves forward, sitting next to you on the bench. Turning himself toward you. “What?” He asks. “Sex?” You chew on your lip. “For me? It’s amazing. It feels.. you know how I touched you? It feels like that but a hundred times better.” He breathes. “But for you? It’ll hurt. Because you’re still a Virgin.” He sighs. “Does it always hurt?” You ask. “No, just the first time. The second time may be a little uncomfortable. Your body just has to get used to it.” He explains. “How bad does it hurt?” You look up at him. “It.. it depends.” You tilt your head. Looking confused. “Depends on the size of your partner.” He avoids your curious gaze.

John had to clench his eyes closed so that the thought of you, whimpering as you take him down travels through the depths of his mind. “Would you take advantage of me?” You ask. “What? Of course not.” He breathes. You reach out, grasping his hand and pulling it into you. Setting it onto your thigh. “Y/N.” He breathes. His chest is tight. He hasn’t felt this riled up in forever, how on earth you’re making him feel like this is beyond him. It’s wrong, so wrong.

“I can’t stop thinking about it, John.” He draws his hand away from your thigh, pushing it up passed your cheek. Resting it there. “I was wrong. To touch you like that. I shouldn’t have done what I did.” He breathes. He can feel the frustration radiating off of you. “Please..” you mewl. “I can’t do it, no matter what I do.” You whimper. You’re breaking him. He sighs. Placing his hand down on your thigh. Sliding it up a little bit. “It’s wrong darling. I don’t want to take advantage of you, you’re just desperate.” He breathes. You climb up into his lap, breathing out as you straddle one of his thighs. “Shit-“ he breathes. You rock your hips into his thighs, whimpering at the friction you feel. He hisses at the warmth between your legs. He can’t keep it together anymore. Something about you using him to get off just sends him spiraling. He rests his hands on your hips, pushing your dress up onto your hips. He guides you into him, groaning out. “John..” you whimper. “Yeah?”

“I want to know what it feels like.” You look up at him. “What?”

“Sex.” You whimper. He holds your hips steady. Looking deep into your eyes. “Y/N.” He sighs. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. I’ll hurt you, real bad.” He breathes. “I trust you, John. I want you to do it.” You breathe. “You said so yourself, you wouldn’t take advantage of me.”

He sighs. “Of course not, but.. this is so important and it should be with someone you love.” You look up at him. He sighs at the look you have in your eyes, gleaming so bright, so full of trust for him. He feels like a creep for having such relations with you. He lifts you up, walking you inside of his house. He sits down on his couch with you still in his lap, looking at you. “I can help you out, but you should save yourself for someone special. Yeah?” You nod your head. He moves your panties to the side, rubbing gentle circles into your clit and you whimper, rocking your hips into his hand. He circles your wet hole with one of his fingers and pushes it into you. You grind down into his finger.

“So desperate..” He trails off, admiring you. You’re basically riding his fingers and he’s enjoying it, lifting his hand into you. “John.. please.” You whimper. “Baby.. you don’t know what you’re asking for.” He chuckles at your desperation. You look at him, wiggling away from him. “What are you doing?” He asks. You slide down onto your knees and his eyes widen when you slide your hands up his clothed thighs. He rests his hands at his sides, letting you do this even though he knows he shouldn’t let you. “Do you even know what you’re getting yourself into?” He smirks down at you. You glare up at him, that same bratty attitude showing through.

John never thought he’d see the day, you’re pouting because he won’t take your virginity.

You nibble at your lip nervously as you unbutton his jeans, they needed to be washed because he smelled like gear oil and dust but something about him, dirty hands, messed up hair since he’d discarded his beanie somewhere between here and there. He looked messy and that’s enough to want him. Aside from the fact that he’s who he is. The first man that’s ever put his hands on you, drew fire into your skin and put it out with his cold touch. You’re zoned out as you work his cock from his jeans, thinking about that day on his boat. What he did to you. What he started. He lit a fire inside of you that day, made you crave him. You can’t sleep without thinking of him. Can’t eat without imagining him and his tongue and the way he devoured you like it was the tastiest meal ever put in front of him.

His fingers moving through you expertly, painting out the finest art, drawing the sweetest symphony from your lips and calming the harshest ocean brewing in your stomach with just a swirl of his tongue.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you reveal him to you for the first time and you’re realizing exactly why he’s said what he said.

You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.

But there’s some beauty in the unknown right?

You take the tip of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the tip, and his eyes widen. A gasp leaves his lips as you suck gently on the tip, taking him further and further with each bob of your head. “Huh- oh fuck-“ he breathes. Hands clutching at the cushions of his couch. You’re nervous to do something wrong, worried about hurting him.

The lewd noises coming from your lips as you suck him harder, his eyebrows raising as you cup his balls, showing them some attention too. He lets his head rest back onto the couch. Wrapping a hand in your hair, guiding you to take him further down. “You’re so pretty.” He breathes. “Such a good girl, could fool me with how good you are at this.” He smiles, knowing his praises egg you on more and more. He rests one of his arms over the back of his couch and when you look up at him, pretty eyes, gleaming with need. He’s got his answer.

He pushes you off of him, nearly busting right then and there with that look in your eyes. He lifts you up, helping you wrap your thighs around his waist. He holds you into him, only one arm wrapped around your back. He walks with you back into his bedroom. The walls are a dark grey color, silk sheets to match. He has dark curtains that keep the daylight out and he sets you down on the edge of his bed. He grasps the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. You don’t fully register what’s going on, but excitement settles into your stomach because a part of you knows what he’s going to do to you. “I can’t imagine fumbling a girl like you.” He breathes. Pushing you back onto his bed. “I just realized through all of this I haven’t even kissed those pretty lips yet, such an asshole of me.” He breathes. He hovers over you, leaning into you and kissing you. He holds a hand over your throat, not putting an pressure against you but holding you still as he attacks your lips with his. You’re a mess, turned on and desperate for him. His facial hair scratches you, leaving a permanent burn behind as he pulls away. He cups your breasts through your dress, massaging them gently. He kisses your bare chest, moans slipping passed your lips. He pushes your dress up onto your hips, pulling you forward so that he can help you take it off. He missed the sight of you, exposed to him. “If I would’ve been your age, had a chance to be with a girl like you…” he trails off, shaking his head with a laugh as he pushes your legs apart. “I would worship the fucking ground you walk on darling, and you’re telling me they’re out here- insulting the sexiest parts of you..” he kisses down your stomach, the attraction you feel for him is overwhelming, you want his hands on you.

You want him between your legs.

Your wishes are granted as he presses a gentle kiss to your clit and a whimper leaves your lips. At long last, he’s finally touching you again. Panties pulled to the side.

It doesn’t last long. He laps at your entrance with his tongue for just a couple minutes before he’s pulling away, licking his lips. “If I do this..” he breathes, moving himself up the bed once more. “You can’t take it back.”

You nod your head. “I know.” You whimper. He sighs.

He’s an awful friend. An awful person.

He pushes his jeans down the rest of the way, pulling your panties down your legs, discarding everything between the both of you, in the way of him taking what’s his.

“I’m a little out of practice. I have nothing..” he breathes. “It’s okay.” You look up at him.

He spits in his hand, slicking up the tip of his cock. Pushing your legs up on him and brushing the tip of his cock over your opening. Your heart is pounding in your chest, pumping blood through you at a rapid rate. “I’m going to hurt you okay? You just have to get through it once and I promise I won’t hurt you anymore.” You nod your head. “I trust you John. It’s okay.”

He’s such a scumbag. He’s got to be at his lowest. He shouldn’t be doing what he’s doing.

But he can’t pull away from you. He’s too far gone.

He pushes the tip of his cock through your folds and you clutch hard at the bed as he starts to slide himself into you more. He’s surprised how easy it is despite the way you’re clamping down around him. “Fuck.. you’re so wet pretty girl.” He gasps. A whimper leaves your lips as he slides deeper, a sob leaving your lips as he wraps his arms tight around you and burying himself into you in one deep thrust. You’re shaking a little bit, he knows it hurt. Knows how uncomfortable you are. Tears are gathering in your eyes, filling up the channel of your tear ducts. “It’s okay darling. It’s over.” He breathes. He nudges your cheek with his nose, kissing you as an attempt to soothe you. You’re panting hard, biting your lip.

That’s it.

His cock is nestled inside the tight cavern between your legs. He’s taken it.

He slides out of you, and you clutch at his blanket, whimpering out. Tears stream down your cheeks. “It’s alright baby. You’ll get used to me. Just relax.” He kisses you again, rocking his hips into yours. He’s going slow, letting you get used to the way your walls wrap around him. It takes a few minutes but eventually, you’re pushing him away from you slightly, widening your legs so that you could see him, all of him. His cock is wet, a little bit of your blood from the tear but mostly your arousal and you’re watching him slide into you.

“Oh my god-“ you whimper. “I.. I feel so full.” You cry. He chuckles at your reaction. “Yeah.. you’re taking all of me.” He smiles. Pushing your thighs up so that you could see him disappear inside of you, burying his cock to the hilt. “Fuck.. I can’t believe.. you just took my-“ you moan out when he picks up his pace. “Your pussy is so fucking sweet.” he shakes his head, in complete disbelief that someone could feel this good. He speeds up his pace even more, you can’t keep yourself together at the feeling of him. You’re a mess, moaning out, whimpering his name. Just like he imagined you would be. He rests his hand on your lower stomach, holding you steady. He lowers his hand, pressing the pad of thumb against your clit, smiling at how swollen it is. You’re so horny, so needy for him. He rubs gentle circles into it, knowing how easy you’re going to get overstimulated. “You’re such a brat.” He chuckles. “My spoiled little brat. Can’t make yourself cum so you have me do it all for you.” Your eyes are closed and your head is tilted back but you’re smiling. “Are you complaining?” You giggle. “Not at all.”

A gasp leaves your lips as he pushes down on your clit harder. Feeling your hips squirm away from his touch. He feels you clench down around him, and he knows you’ve got to be close. He tilts his head back, adams apple bobbing as he swallows hard, he’s got a death grip on your thighs. “John!” You mewl. “That’s it baby. Cum for me. Cum on my cock.” He breathes.

Those 4 words, you’ve heard in every filthy movie you’ve ever seen, never imagined that you’d ever hear them for yourself, from John Price, your dads best friend of all people. You’re tumbling over that abrupt edge, coming around him with the loudest moan you’re sure you’ve ever let out. You’re clamping hard down around him. Pussy pulsing around him. It’s the hardest you think you’ll ever cum, vision going white. John shivers at the tightness of you, barely remembering to pull out of you as he reaches his own orgasm, gritting his teeth as he coats your stomach in thick white ropes of his cum.

He relaxes, taking in deep breaths. “Fucking hell.” He pants.

He smiles, turning his head away from you to hide the way he blushes at the sight of you. Watery eyes, swollen lips. Your cheeks are flushed red. You look completely fucked out.

He lays next to you, calming himself down.

He helps you get cleaned up and holds you close to him for a few hours, talking about random things until your eyes are growing heavy. “How about we go get you tucked in Ah?” He smiles. He’s let you borrow one of his shirts, and you swim in it. It smells like him.

You nod your head. “I want you to stay but.. we’d both fall asleep and your dad would freak out.” He laughs. You smile at him. “Damn right he would. Thank you for working on my car John.” You smile. He leads you out to his garage once more. “No problem. If it has anymore issues just let me know. I’ll take care of you.” He kisses your lips one more time before you climb inside. He opens the garage door and you pull out, giving him a small wave.

His touch lingers on you, traces of his fingers where they permanently etched into your skin.

This was a night you’ll never forget.

@sonyanightmare @kou00 @queen-ilmaree

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #john price x reader #john price

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fox-mulder-gets-pegged · 11 months

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Been spending my time lately thinking of a House MD au where, through a series of accidents and lies and a bet he didn't rly intend to win, House ends up as a registered foster parent (he's still addicted to Vicodin and his normal dickish workaholic self but for some reason he cleared the requirements and trust me he's as stunned and mildly concerned as everyone else is).

Through further Shenanigans™, he ends up accidentally getting handed fostership of not one, not two, but three hellish but brilliant kids:

1. This total smartass 16 year old named Robert Chase who yeah he's a bitchy teenaged boy and a former rich kid and Australian with enough mommy and daddy issues to reawaken Freud after his dad dipped and absconded all parental rights and his mom drank herself to death, but he's also got a nice car left over from his rich kid days and an eye for detail and weirdly enough his best friend/mortal enemy (some other teen named Eric Foreman) and his on again off again girlfriend (Allison Cameron, totally won't last if u ask House) both work at the hospital as a candy striper and after school in the cafeteria respectively so House can get all the inside gossip from Chase. Plus Chase has no problems breaking and entering into patient's homes which helps bc since he's not employed by the hospital Cuddy can't complain as far as House is concerned.

2. A 14 year old girl who only answers to Thirteen (House knows he could look her name up in her file but honestly it drives Chase nuts that she won't tell him her real name and that's good enough for him) and who's dad was declared unfit after the death of his wife to Huntington's devastated him. She's a total nightmare, snarky and quick witted and freakishly smart even tho she puts most of those smarts towards things like shaving Chase's entire head (eyebrows included) bc he's trying to grow a sucky teenage mustache, and trying to take House's wallet bc she keeps calling him Old Man and he informed her he's actually only 25 but the stress of fostering has aged him prematurely and she's like 95% sure that's a lie but she wants to check his license and make sure bc everyone lies. She loves tormenting Chase by telling him his best friend and/or his girlfriend is hot and asking if they're single.

And 3. This 6 year old boy named Lawrence Kutner who's weirdly cheerful considering his parents got killed in front of him. He's way too chatty and excellent at puzzles and the only morning person in the entire house and therefore frequently tries to make breakfast (he likes to be helpful and he hasn't burned the place down yet so House doesn't feel the need to stop him). Once he told House he was gonna build a Death Star in the living room and House said lol sure go ahead whatever, only to return home from work to discover Kutner called himself out from school and has a huge wooden frame made of broken furniture in the living room. House rly can't argue since he did say go ahead. Benefits of fostering a 6 year old are 1. The babes love it, 2. Free excuse to leave work early/come in late/not show up at all, and 3. Justification for buying juice boxes and Ritz crackers. The neighbor kid Taub is his go to babysitter bc his mom volunteered him forcibly and Taub is lowkey praying that babysitting Kutner could lead to an in at Princeton Plainsboro once he graduates high-school and finishes medical school (it won't, House doesn't believe in nepotism unless it benefits him).

The adventures of House and his Foster Ducklings mostly revolve around being a Found Family, but do involve frequent plots such as:

House fired his brand new fellows again (he tosses em every three or so months, he hasn't found The Right Team yet) and will sometimes bring his foster kids in, hand em doctors coats, and tell patients that they're just a bunch of medical savants here to consult yes even the 6 year old he's actually Harvard's youngest graduate ever.

House sends the kids to break into a patient's home. They refuse. House tells them the first one to find black mold or lead paint or a dead animal or whatever gets $20. They agree. Chase drops Thirteen and Kutner off at a bus stop across town and drives over himself so he can get an hour and a half head start (ultimate fuck them kids moment, however Thirteen did steal his wallet so guess who's paying for lunch and their taxi ride to the patient's house? Net loss.)

Cuddy demands House does his clinic hours. House sends his foster kids to do his clinic hours for him. Tfw you go to the free walk in clinic for a sore throat and a cough and your doctor is a 6 year old boy who keeps asking for help with spelling whilst filling out your chart.

Wilson babysits them one (1) time since House doesn't trust Chase not to throw a party or sell his foster siblings on eBay if left as the one in charge. He wakes up with a big strip of hair poorly bleached right down the middle. Chase crushed up stolen sleeping pills and mixed them into a juice box, which Kutner 'innocently' offered to Wilson. Thirteen was going to bleach and dye his whole head blue (for practice, she wants to dye her hair but she's certainly not gonna fuck up her own hair until she has the method down) but Wilson woke up pretty quickly due to years of House drugging him. Wilson has not offered to babysit again.

Anyways this is my House Foster Ducklings au which I'm thinking about actually writing. Thank u 🫡

#house md #greg house #robert chase #remy hadley #lawrence kutner #i just think Chase and Thirteen and Kutner are the most House's Actual Kids out of all the fellows #give that man three incredibly smart self reliant kids with issues™#i do imagine a plot where House does overdose of vicodin #and the kids find him #and they're in the hospital #and House has to contend with the fact that he either has to give the kids up to better homes #or make smarter choices bc it's unfair of him to be overdosing and almost dying when he has three traumatized kids relying on him #love when there's some middle aged guy whos like 'no im not a dad' but has a gaggle of kids following him around #feel free to message me about this au

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coqvttes · 2 months

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୨୧― 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐠. 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧

୨୧˚ synopsis: your dad sends his best friend officer grimes to pick up his precious daughter from a party, but things get heated when rick punishes you for resisting an officer.

୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw 16+ only, p in v, petnames, crying, teasing, spanking, fem!reader, sub!reader, dbf!rick, dom!rick, age gap, creampie, rough sex, manhandling, mentions of handcuffs, public sex, lmk if i forgot anything!

୨୧˚ wc: 1.4k for @pillow-princess-69 ‘s request <3

“you’re coming with me, sweetheart,” he says, giving you no chance to answer or even breathe before he’s hoisting you up and practically throwing you over his broad shoulder. you squeal as he holds you firmly in place.

“noooooo, rick, im having fun!” you wail, smacking his shoulder as if it would do any damage. he shakes his head as he heads back towards the front door, his hand holding you by the waist, fingers so dangerously close to your arse.

“‘m staying here!” pleading, you kick your legs up in the air, causing his grip on your side to tighten. He pays you no attention as he pushes through the crowd of people holding red cups and dancing to the awfully loud music.

he manages to get past the front door and he pulls the door of his police patrol car open, leaning down to plop you down in the passenger seat. he slams your door shut before getting in the driver's seat.

“seatbelt,” he orders, but you ignore him and huff as you cross your arms, gosh you never fail to give him the usual attitude. he rolls his eyes before leaning over you to click your seatbelt on for you like a child.

“i’m not a baby! it was just a party. it’s only midnight! you just had to barge in and ruin it.” you complain, glaring at him.

“your dad sent me to pick you up, so i’m just doing my job, and i don’t want you to get drunk and get yourself into trouble.”

he starts the engine up and rests his hand on the back of your headrest to reverse, but you don’t even hear him as your attention is focused entirely on his beefy arm as he’s trying to reverse out of the driveway.

“officer, is it true that you get to take your handcuffs home?”

his brow raises, and he gives you a curious expression before nodding.

“yes, i take my cuffs home with me, got em right here,” he says, taking a hand off the wheel to show you the cuffs that hang on the belt of his trousers. you smile before speaking again.

“do you use them when you have sex?”

his expression changes to complete shock, and his cheeks burn as he spares you a glance. his expression is priceless as he fumbles with his words, unsure of how to answer such a question.

“i’d let you put me in handcuffs, officer. grimes,” you whisper, trailing your fingers slowly up his tense thigh before hastily grabbing onto his prominent bulge in his trousers, palming him cheekily.

oh now you’ve done it. He abruptly stops the car in the middle of nowhere, as it seems. you smirk as you try to read his emotions as he switches gears before pulling his seatbelt off. he gets out of the car before looping around to your side, opening the passenger door.

“get out.” he pulls you out by the arm roughly and slams the door shut, maneuvering you over to the hood of the car as you stumble along.

“you need to watch your mouth, sweetheart. saying things like that to a man might get you into some trouble, you know?”

his voice is deep and throaty, and your cunt is practically drooling for him as he bends you over the bonnet of the car, his palm pressing down on the dip of your back, just above your arse.

“‘m sorry, officer, are you gonna have to punish me?” you tease, wiggling your arse at him, practically taunting him.

“god, you’ve been testing my patience, sweetheart. you know how long i’ve had to hold back from putting you in your place? god if it wasn’t for your dad, i would’ve fucked you by now.”

rick practically growls as he flips up your little skirt, smiling when he sees how your cute little cotton panties have a dark wet spot down the middle, right where your precious cunt is.

“awww you wet for me, darlin?” he coos, rubbing his calloused thumb over the dampness of your panties, pressing down ever so gently. he grins satisfactorily as you let out a quiet whimper, arching your back into the pleasure.

his fingers sneak into your panties and cup your glistening mound before tugging them down entirely, pulling them off your legs before stuffing them in his pocket, but you don't know that.

you gasp and turn your head around as you hear his belt unbuckling before he tugs his trousers and briefs down just enough so that he can pull his dick out. he’s so hard, his angry head is leaking with pre-cum from your previous teasing.

he rubs the tip against your weeping cunt a few times before he pushes inside of you, groaning throatily. you lunge forward from the sudden intrusion and gasp out his name.

his hand rests on the dip of your back, and his other rests on the curve of your arse. he sheathes himself inside you entirely before pulling out halfway, his movements are slow, and you whine impatiently. just as you’re about to complain, he starts thrusting in and out of your hole mercilessly.

knocking the air out of your lungs, you feel the drag of his dick in your gummy walls as he fucks you into oblivion. your knees buckle, and you lose your balance, but his strong, muscular arms hold you up against the car firmly.

god forbid, if any car drove past you, you’d both be down for public indecency, but it’s 4 a.m. and nobody drives down these roads at this hour. besides, he’s the law around here; he’s never letting anything happen to you, not on his watch.

rick cruelly pounds into your cunt, whispering filthy nonsense about how he’s been waiting so long to do this and how much of a brat you are.

none of it makes sense in your dumb mind. with the feeling of his dick bullying into you, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been waiting for this too.

“r-rick! faster!” you cry, your voice wobbling slightly as your body lunges forward with each of his thrusts.

“say it properly,” he tuts, bringing his palm up before smacking it on the softness of your arse. whimpering through tears, you barely manage.

“p-please officer, faster-!” he lets out a hum of approval before picking up his pace, now brutally snapping his hips against yours.

it’s all too much with the rough groans coming from his throat, the lewd smacking noises of his hips snapping against yours, and your slutty moans. your climax nears as you chant his name like a prayer.

he pounds into you in an almost animalistic manner, his hands gripping onto your waist so tight you swear you’ll bruise later. drool dripping down the corner of your lips at how deliciously filthy he’s fucking you.

“ohh rickkk, mm!” you moan delightedly as your cunt clenches around him, pleasure washing over you entirely as you lose yourself around him. he follows up shortly, releasing his cum inside you with a broken moan.

“sweetheart”

he slowly exhales as he pulls out of your heat, warm cum spilling out of your used hole as you remain bent over his car, cunt clenching around nothing as he leaves you empty.

“thank you, officer.” you giggle, pulling your panties back up.

“fuck, your dad’s gonna kill me.” he sighs, zipping his trousers back up and smirking at you.

“not if he doesn’t find out.” you smile at him cheekily, approaching him, and he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips. you lean up to whisper, “next time, i’ll let you cuff me, officer.” you grin before walking past him to get back into the car.

he stands there, dumbfounded and wondering if he should just take you in the back of the car right now. he doesn’t think he can wait till next time, whenever next time is…

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ all works belong to © coqvettes 2024. i do not give permission to claim, translate or copy any of my works. reblogs are appreciated!

#rick grimes #rick grimes smut #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes imagine #twd smut #twd x reader #twd #the walking dead #the walking dead smut #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead imagine #rick grimes twd #andrew lincoln #andrew lincoln smut #andrew lincoln x reader #rick grimes moodboard #daryl dixon

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