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#ALSO THE LIL EGG BOYS
cupisketches · 4 months
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those last two episodes were so good like aahhhakdjfj
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doodles-by-noodles · 1 year
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for the requests what about your favorite magical girl? :)
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Hehe, my girlies. I love my magical girls a LOT.
But I decided I'd also do this prompt for real because I couldn't resist the opportunity to draw some of my other favorite girlies!
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We've got 2 from Wonder Egg Priority - THE missed potential magical girl show to ever (Rika and Momoe) and Sakaka from Madoka Magica. I love em all.
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docterzerocare · 9 months
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had more thoughts on the Qsmp Au i came up with last night:
- Juanaflippa shooting Cucurucho with her gun. it's just a funny mental image to me.
- i had this. idea about Tilin witnessing q!Quackity getting kidnapped. Tilin seeing ElQuackity, who's pretending to be Quackity, and going "You're not my dad. Where is my dad? What did you do to him?"
- Tilin, just in general, refusing to go along with ElQuackity's BS because That's not my father. Stop trying to pretend you're him you're not why did you take my dad away why why why bring him back Please-
- listen. from what i've heard, Maxo is Going Through It, so he deserves to still have a living child. just in general, no more grieving parents. everyone is at least somewhat happier because they've still got their children.
- i have absolutely zero fucking clue how Gegg comes into existence, but here we are.
- the other misc. eggs (A1, the other egg that got found too late) get homes and parents too. for whatever reason, i'm getting the names Arin and Bluebell respectively.
- Arin's accessory would either be a little bandaid on the side of their face or a little yellow flower on their head (a dandelion :]), maybe both, and Bluebell gets a flower crown of forget-me-nots.
- Arin, Tilin, and Juanaflippa (because of Tilin mostly) have formed the "FUCK ElQuackity, All My Homies HATE ElQuackity" Club. good for them <3
- also like. what if the Federation just erased Q's memories anyway, so he comes back and doesn't recognize Tilin anymore. so just. Tilin being so happy that he's finally back only to realize that he doesn't remember them. This Severely Fucks Them Up For Several Reasons.
- i also realized that Tilin is receiving so much angst. i didn't intend for this to happen i swear.
- i've decided that the times that the eggs Would Have died canonically were just really close calls in this au. example, Maxo got to Trump in time, Flippa and Tilin got medical attention in time and were only physically (and mentally) scarred, Arin managed to run away, Bluebell was discovered by Cellbit in time, etc.
- upon realizing that Tilin had no other parent besides Quackity, Slime and Mariana decided that they would also help. Tilin and Flippa were already hanging out so much that they were practically like siblings (and. also pretty much were, but shh), so why not just help with Tilin too?
...well, Slime and Mariana were pretty dysfunctional, but uh. as far as Quackity's concerned, it's the thought that counts, right?
Doc i'm not even entirely into the qsmp but i've gotten attached to these lil eggs help
Oughhigh i love this
Arin and bluebell omg <3
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eggs-can-draw · 1 year
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May I please request naegirigami dressed as magical girls?
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I started drawing these and like. my soul fucking left my body and was replaced by the spirit of Naoko Takeuchi herself. Forget lost in the sauce I was fucking ABSORBED by the sauce. no more egg only magical girl sauce. absolutely no thoughts only big frilly skirts and bows and cutie accessories
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pancakehouse · 1 year
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it’s a smoothie + savory breakfast sandwich morning for me :-)
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arolesbianism · 5 months
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I <3 transmasc Wendy because it adds another thing to the kid who does not know how to handle anything being thrown into everything pile but instead of a thing like dead sister it's the prospect that he kind of likes having short hair and the idea of being a guy and it still makes him feel like the world is ending until suddenly the ppl around him are just like fine with it and everything is like cool actually and he melts over that too until finally he's just a normal baby trans person and can get back to being bad at coping with his other hashtag issues again
#rat rambles#starve posting#like I do have dead serious wendy trans thoughts tm even some that actually relate to his quotes high bar I know gkfndkd#its just so fun reading him as a trans egg thats one breakdown away from being smashed#and also gives me some yummy tasty thoughts abt both wendy and abby and the inivertable fact that as time goes on the only remnant of#abby's face is going to shift and change more until it can no longer even be a reminder of what was lost#which must be a Horrifying idea to wendy even if chances are he hasn't rly internalized this concept yet#and for abby especially if you're like me and go for a more silhouette style ghost design for her youve gotta imagine how fucky it is to#watch your twin grow up and change in ways you never will#Im also a agender abby who will likely never realize believer because shes just like younger me fr#like shes low key just me as a little kid but without the anxiety disorder#anyways back to the topic of wendy genderism Im honestly surprised Ive never seen a he/him wendy hc before#Im not surprised at not finding any trans guy wendys but there rly isnt much variety in nonbinary wendys despite it being fairly common#I just like trans guy wendy cause he gives me those vibes#its the weird little girl to cringe fail trans man pipeline or smth idk#give him a couple years eventually he'll be a grimy lil freak of a teenage boy#if abby didnt die and knew abt gender stuff itd still take her 30 years minimum to even consider she might be not a girl maybe#not because she's hard in denial abt gender stuff shes just is in the classic headspace of 'well I dont Think I care so I must be cis ig'#same with my aro abby hcs but walter is super not helping#as Ive said before they are aro echo chamber besties dont try to tell them romance is real they will not believe you#hey better then whateve the fuck wendy would have to go through if one of the trans men around him offered solidarity#I would rather die than get advice from wilson are you kidding me#the only somewhat normal trans guy there is warly but hes french so it cancels out
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inkdrinkerworld · 9 months
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could u please write a lil something for a chubby reader and spencer :)) maybe a small meet-cute at a library or coffee shop? (something really fall inspired hehe) thank u thsnk u love ur work <3
spencer doesn't usually stop at this particularly library, but he'd had to for the case. he and emily had been tasked with finding more information about the books related to the unsub.
he's in fall colours- soft browns and muted oranges, his scarf the only pop of colour visible in a deep purple.
"uh, hi," he says softly, tapping his fingers on the front desk.
his eyes light up when you tip your chin upwards, a warm smile on your face as you look at him. "hi, can i help you find anything?" spencer feels his head cloud and hopes emily doesn't notice.
"yeah, we're looking for this book," she shows you the piece of the paper and your tongue pokes out the corner of your mouth, eyebrows scrunching as you puff up your already chubby cheeks.
"i think we're supposed to have three copies of them, would you mind waiting while i check?" you look up and spencer finds it hard to do anything other than shake his head.
your eyes shine in the amber light of the library and your glasses chain holds flowers and little yellow ducks that clink together as you walk over to the desktop. you're in a pale yellow top and from what spencer can see, brown corduroy jeans. you look cute and the curves of your waist and the little pudge of your belly looks good enough to grab to spencer.
emily coughs softly and his cheeks heat, his eyes lifting back to your face.
"did you know that ducks at rocks? they do it to help them digest hard foods and store them in their gizzards," your eyes seem to light up as spencer speaks so he presses on. "in 1911 in nebraska hunters actuaally found gold nuggets in their gizzards. it supposedly spurred the 'gold rush.'"
emily is proud that he doesn't stutter and is even moree proud of spencer when your eyes widen and you look up from the computer.
"their ducklings communicate while they're still in their eggs and they try to hatch at the same time." you say softly and spencer smiles, letting you work while emily looks between you both shocked.
"you should ask her out." emily whispers to him and his eyes widen.
"we're on a case and i don't know her." spencer whispers back, eyes tracking your every move.
"you were just sharing duck facts, boy genius. leave your number for after." emily says it so easily and with such belief that spencer will get a date or at least a friend out of this case that he considers it seriously.
"they're in aisle three, on the third shelf. there's also some other related books in the shelf across from them."
"thanks," they both say as they walk off. you spend a couple seconds watching after the man in the purple scarf.
they return in a couple minutes, with three books.
"are you checking them all out?" you ask and spencer nods, you stamp and process the books. "could i get a name?" you hold your pen just below your lips as you wait for answer.
the woman says, "i'll be in the car spence." the man blushes and you give him a gentle smile.
"spencer reid." he says softly, voice a whisper as you scribble, slipping the card into the book along with a small piece of paper. "have a good day." he says as he takes the book and you nod, waving him out of the library.
emily watches him open up the first book and leans over into his space as she starts to pull off. "what did she say?"
spencer smiles when he sees the note, your handwriting leaning to th right and slightly looped, "good luck, spencer reid. maybe we can exchange more facts soon, y/n" he reads and smiles even brighter when he notices your number below that.
"told you reid," emily says fondly and spencer can't ease the blush on his face all day.
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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months
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Omg I was just thinking about how you said in the monster au that you can buy the reader at a pet shop so like could we get a backstory about how the reader is in the pet shop was she like born into it or was she kidnapped and what was her life like in the pet shop before price bought her or even a story about price buying her lol I know it's a lot but you have me obsessed
Price never wanted a house pet. Always thought he is too damn busy for anything like this - besides, having three other monsters on his back as part of the pack also makes everything much, much harder. He doesn't want to pick up a girl from the street because all Human Resistance members are making really bad pack mates - you'd probably kill yourself and hurt one of his boys before he would settle you with cubs. He doesn't want anyone raised after the monster outbreak because you'd be too fucking young and he doesn't need that. He wants some meat on your bones and, preferably, some brain in your head. So, when he finds lil' ol' you, all curled in the furthest corner of the cage that serves as a house for captured humans, he can't help but break down in that warm, adorable smile of his. He listens to the monster that was selling you - something something, you were born before the outbreak, which doesn't make you exactly old - there were barely even ten-ish years after the revolution - but it makes you sweeter. More experienced. He wants to have you in his arms because you had a life before, and he wants to take it away. Give you a new purpose - take care of you as far from this place as possible. Price likes himself a pretty pet from the shop because you're sleepy and lazy and you don't fight him too much, but you have that weird sense of humor that makes him snicker. You'd do well with his boys - maybe, you would even be able to bear children from them too. You still remember the life when monsters were nothing more but fairytales, living in shadows - and you still can't believe that you're actually part of the pack now, a breeding mare for their leader. You're deadly fucking terrified of werebears, you don't want to be pregnant and you certainly don't want to be shared between four different monsters. It's better than the pet shop, you try to tell yourself. Price allows you to speak your mind about things, Gaz gives you shiny gifts and massages your tummy when eggs become too much, Soap likes to dress you up and Ghost is...not much, which is already a blessing. It's better than being with other humans because they are fucking psychos who are killing anyone who has ever been touched by a monster - and it's better than being with monsters from other companies. You fucking saw poor thing clinging to a hooded guy's tentacles and you don't want to be like her.
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bones4thecats · 5 months
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Diasomnia with their Fae! Knight! S/O
Type of Writing: Poll Result Characters: Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Silver, and Sebek Zigvolt Name: Diasomnia with their Fae! Knight! S/O Original Poll Link: Here
A/N: I'm sorry that this took a while to post, I just finished with a larger thing with my family, so. But, anyways, I do hope you all enjoy this, and look out, on Sunday, January 7th, 2024, requests will open for an hour. I'll put out an announcement when it happens! Enjoy, my lil bubbles🫧
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🐉 Okay, the entirety of Diasomnia is shocked
🐉 You were the personal guard of Malleus', being sent everywhere he went, and because of this situation pushed upon you both, conversations were the only thing keeping the atmosphere from fogging up with awkwardness
🐉 Malleus asked you about your home life, so hearing how you descended from a army-covered family of faes, he just smiled and chuckled as you told stories on how strong, yet dumb they were
🐉 He loves to watch you spar with Silver and Sebek, trying to help Lilia teach them, though, since you weren't used to being delicate when fighting, you nearly always ended up on the ground apologizing as you tried healing a small bruise of cut you gave them
🐉 Both you and Malleus have an understanding because of your roles, do not let your feelings overwhelm your jobs, since that could result in people using you against each other, seeing weakness
🐉 You definitely have had to deal with Leona, so while he tried threatening Malleus one day, you grabbed your sword and held it to his throat, making him stiffen and the rest of the group freeze with awkward facial expressions
🐉 You may be rough around the edges, but Malleus likes that about you, and if someone tried harming you, he'd have their heads, and you'd do the same for him, no doubt
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🦇 He and you served together during the Human vs Fae war long ago
🦇 You were one of the higher-ranked army members during battle, and you two were known as the 'Blood-Bathers', but, despite how the humans you slayed viewed you both, you cared for one another with a ton of passion
🦇 When Lilia found Malleus' egg, you helped him raise the future-ruler, from helping him control his magic, to helping him gain information on fighting and the outside world, you were there just as much as Lilia was
🦇 Lilia also watched as you laughed when Malleus burned his bangs, just staring at you with a face frozen in betrayal and shock before tackling you and messing up your hair as Malleus laughed
🦇 You may be a knight, but you had just as much of a sense of humor as your husband, from dad-jokes to puns, you both slayed people with them
🦇 Your husband loves to watch you get along with Silver, treating him like your own despite you both knowing he wasn't, and watching you train with him made Lilia feel like his whole life and the reason he survived everything from his past was just to be here, watching you and his family grow
🦇 Lilia also loves to spar with you himself, and watching the three boy's faces all erupt with sparkles and admiration to the two of you, watching as you battled, it was like you were in a dance, flowing together like the soulmates you were
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⚔️ Silver met you because of your chosen occupations, being a knight
⚔️ He loves to train with you, watching you hold your sword in your hands was amazing to him, and seeing how you flowed with the weapon like you were one was amazing to him
⚔️ This guy absolutely refuses to give up on your relationship, despite knowing you were going to outlive him, since he was a human with a limited lifespan, while you were a fae with a limitless one
⚔️ Many see you guys as the sleepy soulmates, as after doing literally anything, you guys would rest underneath a tree with animals surrounding you
⚔️ You are a very good fighter, one that even puts Lilia in the need for effort when sparring, and your boyfriend loves seeing how his adoptive father smiles and pats your head with such care when your able to knock him off his feet
⚔️ Silver will try staying up and watch you help train new first years with their magic, but, unsurprisingly, he falls asleep, prompting you to carry him like a princess back to your dorm-rooms
⚔️ Being a knight, you wake up early, and since your lovely boyfriend here has many sleeping issues, he pins you down and makes you sleep longer than normal
⚔️ Malleus, Lilia, and Sebek all love watching Silver hug you from behind and rest while you glare at those who call him pathetic and a disgrace to the dorm for being human, you really were meant for him, huh?
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⚡ Sebek was nervous when he first met you
⚡ You were a very well-respected knight within Briar Valley's army, so, being a trainee and you being quite popular among your peers, it made him feel lesser, and he hates that
⚡ He watched as you stood beside Malleus, sending threatening glares to others who dared try harming him, verbally or physically
⚡ Unlike Sebek, you did not express your emotions as passionately, and, funnily enough, that was what got you interested in him, as not many of your fellow knights knew how to express themselves very well
⚡ He gets flustered every time you pinned him down, as you smirked and would tease him with your fangs showing
⚡ You teased others like Lilia, but, you only showed your real emotions to those you cared for, and for Sebek, you showed everything you felt to him
⚡ For some reason, every time he watches you grit your teeth with your fangs showing, he feels ashamed of himself, since he was a half-human, half-fae, while you were a pureblood
⚡ Due to this, you comfort him when he feels weaker than others. He may be a half-blood, but, as you tell him
" I love you for you, not for your percentage of fae-blood. You are an amazing being, loud, but amazing... and I love you for that, Sebek. "
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py-dreamer · 2 months
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Man I am on a roll these days!
I love this doll base for the lmk characters, I actually drew some designs for the other lmk characters in this base in a notebook and as much as I would like to post them, Idk if that'll be any time soon.
I know in the show, Mk's headband is his signature. Even since childhood, I get that but I also saw a design of kid MK with him without the headband and fell in love.
Also he has light up sketchers. Cause why not.
It was a lot of fun doing the crayon drawings and seems like red and yellow are our lil prince's favorite colors, though it was a bit difficult to do them on such a small scale and at a slanted angle.
why does Mk have random building blocks?....
...
(I genuinely don't know)
Looking back, I do wish I made the toys a little more scuffed up cause while I do believe Pigsy would buy some toys and new clothes for his son the kid but I do love the idea that many of MK's old toys were hand me downs or at least second handed from Pigsy's past or even any cousins giving old toys or heck. Maybe some of Tang's university students found out their teacher has a new kid and give some old stuff to help out since Mk is a sweet kid and his appearance was quite spontaneous.
Perhaps that doll is a clone Wukong placed to keep an extra eye on the boy
BTW that love heart is NOT romantic in any way you creeps. Like how a child loves a toy, there is nothing weird happening here.
WUKONG IS HIS GODDAMN DAD/FATHER FIGURE AND IF YOU GENUINELY SHIP PEACHYNOODLES, GET OUT
OUT OF THIS HOUSE!
I try to respect different ships and opinions. I try my best.
But we see in the show, their father-son dynamic. I know there is a ship format of mentor x student but there is a clear parental relationship here!
It just feels icky, especially when you consider the inbalance of both power and experience in any 'romantic' context
Sorry, I just went on a tangent there, but hope you enjoy the actual piece and enjoy the easter eggs (>u ')/
(also out of curiosity, are any of you interested in the stopmotion film, Kubo and the two strings cause there might be a new au on the horizon!)
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saetgvia · 6 months
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genshin boys takin care of u on ur monthly
im back from the void of no content
im feeling berry soft and fluffy so enJOY the boys taking care of fem!reader on her period :)
characters: wriothesley, lyney, alhaitham, xiao
tw: periods (duh), staining sheets in wrio’s one, lmk if i forgot anything :D
also also i wanna make a pt. 2 pls drop any characters u want in my asks or comments ily guys enjoy
also does anyone know how to add the blue
read more tag on mobile/browser? tyty
———————————————————————
wriothesley
- kay so idk him really well needa finish archon quest but he would treat you like a QUEEN
- whatever u need he has it
- bro is chill af and knows what hes doing
- will get cuddly LMAO
- he js wants to pamper u
- so he does :D
- if u stain anything he’ll be calm and change the sheets and everything while u take care of urself
- cooks for u
- reminds u to take painkillers if u need them
- soft kisses heh
- movie marathons!!
- takes care of ur EVERY CRAVING
lyney
- determined to do ANYTHING to make u smile
- so he’ll pull random bouquets out of his pocket and present them to u
- or pretend to do a trick and kiss ur nose instead
- he is SO asking lynette for advice
- poor boy panics a lil even tho he knows how normal this is and he has a sister
- but he’s never really bothered too much abt it before
- he knows how to deal with it but he just wants to make u happy
- he treats u so well aww
- cooks for u
- makes everything cheesy
- like little smiley face rice balls
- or an egg cooked in a heart shape
- so many cuddles
- i love him
alhaitham
- so chill and nonchalant
- gets u wtv u need
- cooks for u
- ion think he’s a very big cuddler but if u need him he’ll hold u
- forehead and nose kisses
- he’ll hold ur hand a lot and like run his thumb on the back
- when he does hold u its u sitting on a couch binging movies with ur head on his chest and his fingers in ur hair
- he does acts of service to help lessen ur load
xiao
- he’s basically js confused
- ‘human women… bleed… for a week every month… and don’t die??’ WHAT SORCERY IS THis
- like lyney poor boy panics a bit
- he’s been around for millennia but this thing can get him flustered
- always nervous to hold u and kinda doesn’t want to but he will for u
- cooks for u obv
- always checking up on u, asking if u need anything
- ‘here, i got this for you’ (insert literally anything he randomly saw and thought would make u smile)
- constantly asking if it hurts
- you tell him to chill and he goes ‘HOW CAN I WHEN YOURE HURTING’ and ugh hes so soft and silly
- takes extra care of u
- constant vigilance
- so sweet
GUYS i think i’ll make a pt. 2 so again, if you have any reqs for this or any other fics drop ‘em in my asks or comments ily all <3
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learnyouabiology · 1 year
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Fun Fact: Hognose snakes are dramatic lil guys!
I am particularly fond of the snakes known as hognose snakes, and my reasons are both understandable and correct.
This is a hognose snake:
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(They received their name by having the sweetest lil snoot to ever require a boop – image source)
They use these adorable snoots to burrow under sandy soil using a sort of nuzzle-y motion. They then use these burrows as a place to sleep at night, hibernate in the winter, and lay their eggs. 
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(you could say they’re into... the Underground Scene! ...ok yeah i’ll show myself out – image source)
Plus, they come in a variety of delightful colours!
We've got brown! Beige! Yellow! Black! Red! Orange! Tan! Kinda greenish! Orange again!
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(pretty sneks! – Here’s all the image sources: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9)
And, to be clear, the snakes pictured above are wild snakes. No selective breeding by humans in these noodly bois! At least, not in these specific individuals. probably. I guess a few of them could be escapees... 
But most importantly: These snakes know the true meaning of DRAMA
Hognose snakes are actors, first and foremost. When they feel threatened, the first thing they do is puff out their neck into a hood. 
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(like cobras, this hood is made by FLEXING THEIR NECK RIBS. which: gross – image source x)
This superficially makes them look like a cobra, but what they’re actually trying to do is make themselves seem bigger, and therefore scarier. Possibly those dark spots on their neck helps with that! 
Any resemblance to real-life Eurasian cobras, real or fictional, is purely coincidental
Also, it makes its mouth do this:
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(Snakes that SCREAAAAAAAM. – image source)
honestly, if I didn’t already know that hognose snakes were harmless, this would ABSOLUTELY make me leave it the hell alone 
But if all of that^ is unsuccessful at scaring away the predator, the hognose snake pulls its signature move: playing dead
If you think that is a lame signature move, then you are wrong, because hognose snakes put EVERYTHING into their performance and I love them for it.
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(they’re serious, they’ll do it!  – image source)
((I’m actually going to stick the rest of this under a read-more, bc the pictures of the alive-and-physically-fine hognose snakes do kind of look like a legitimately-dead hognose snake, if you don’t know what to look for. 
So, uh: cw for a snake being too good at pretending to be dead))
Behold: a series of completely healthy, unharmed snakes!!!
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(to help with their self-esteem, we ask that you at least pretend to believe that they are dead – image sources 1, 2, 3, 4)
Honestly, the photos don’t do it justice. Here’s my favourite video of the whole wonderous performance: 
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But to review:
There's writhing! There's dramatic noises! There's flipping onto their back and opening their mouth wide and letting their tongue hang out! There's excreting a combination of  intentionally smelly substances!!! Truly a master of the art of being left the hell alone (*^▽^*)
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(yep. deeeeefinitely dead. not just faking it. nothing worth eating here! – image source)
Personally, my favourite part of this is how they insist on rolling onto their back, even when they are rolled back onto their stomach. 
Seriously, if you try to roll them right-side-up, they will flip back over. It's as though they believe that a good, proper dead snek MUST be on its back, obviously.
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(truly fearsome – image source)
Sadly, the hognose snake may have made itself too scary, according to humans.
Out of fear, these snakes are commonly killed on sight 😔. I once heard someone proudly brag about how they’d killed a dozen cobras! In southern Ontario! Where cobras do not live! This is both extremely frustrating and deeply sad.
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(safe enough to hold! although maybe don’t, just because this snake IS probably experiencing mortal fear, which is not a good feeling – image source © Dean Stavrides)
So just to highlight: hognose snakes are completely harmless. They’re just pretending to be fearsome!
(not that people should be killing venomous snakes either, imo. Let the danger noodles LIVE THEIR LIVES)
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(i is baybee, pls do not hurt me – image source)
And now some bonus facts to help raise us out of that downer:
Hognose snakes are toad specialists! Their favourite food is toads, which is unusual, because toads are poisonous. Hognose snakes deal with this by force of will and also, at least two amino acid substitutions, maybe (Mohammadi et al. 2016). Possibly a few other things help with this, also (Feldman et al. 2016).
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(is snek eat toad? or does toad wearing cape of snek? impossible to tell, really – image source)
Also, I have a confession: hognose snakes... are venomous. Technically.
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(itty bitty little fangs at the veeeeery back of their mouth!  – image source)
They are known as rear-fanged snakes, which means they have fangs aaaall the way at the back of their mouth. The venom they produce seems to be toad-specific, and is considered to be harmless to humans unless you happen to have an allergy but that's the exception rather than the rule
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(the two hognose species. They are both baybee, but in different ways actually there might be more than two species but these are the two i’ve actually learned about so ALL WELL   – image source)
Also, hognose snakes are big cowards NOT aggressive and I've never even heard of anyone getting bit by a one (outside of one feeding mishap, which we can all agree was an ACCIDENT). 
The series of events that would need to occur for you to be envenomated are so unlikely and bizarre that I assume you would have to be TRYING to get bit.
This has been Fun Fact Friday, bringing you the forbidden noodly boys to try and keep them a little more safe!
.....................................................................
Sources, because I know me and SO DO YOU:
Averill-Murray, R. C. (2006). Natural history of the western hog-nosed snake (Heterodon nasicus) with notes on envenomation. Sonoran Herpetologist, 19(9), 98-101.
Buchanan, Scott W.; Timm, Brad C.; Cook, Robert P.; Couse, Richard; Hazard, Lisa C. (2017). Spatial ecology and habitat selection of eastern hognose snakes. The Journal of Wildlife Management, 81(3), 509–520. doi:10.1002/jwmg.21218 
CHS: Canadian Herpetological Society https://canadianherpetology.ca/species/species_page.html?cname=Eastern%20Hog-nosed%20Snake
COSEWIC. 2021. COSEWIC assessment and status report on the Eastern Hog-nosed Snake Heterodon platirhinos in Canada. Committee on the Status of Endangered Wildlife in Canada. Ottawa. xi + 45 pp.  https://www.canada.ca/en/environment-climate-change/services/species-risk-public-registry/cosewic-assessments-status-reports/eastern-hog-nosed-snake-2021.html
Cunnington, G. M., & Cebek, J. E. (2005). Mating and nesting behavior of the eastern hognose snake (Heterodon platirhinos) in the northern portion of its range. The American midland naturalist, 154(2), 474-478.
Feldman, C. R., Durso, A. M., Hanifin, C. T., Pfrender, M. E., Ducey, P. K., Stokes, A. N., ... & Brodie Jr, E. D. (2016). Is there more than one way to skin a newt? Convergent toxin resistance in snakes is not due to a common genetic mechanism. Heredity, 116(1), 84-91. 
 Jared, C., Luiz Mailho‐Fontana, P., & Maria Antoniazzi, M. (2021). Differences between poison and venom: An attempt at an integrative biological approach. Acta Zoologica, 102(4), 337-350.
Liu, C., Chen, Y., Zheng, Y., Bo, J., Yang, C., Xu, S., & Zhang, S. (2022). Wear Resistance Improvement of Keeled Structure and Overlapped Distribution of Snake Scales. Journal of Bionic Engineering, 1-11. Citing abstract.
Mohammadi, S., Gompert, Z., Gonzalez, J., Takeuchi, H., Mori, A., & Savitzky, A. H. (2016). Toxin-resistant isoforms of Na+/K+-ATPase in snakes do not closely track dietary specialization on toads. Proceedings of the Royal Society B: Biological Sciences, 283(1842), 20162111. 
 Nature Conservancy of Canada: https://www.natureconservancy.ca/en/what-we-do/resource-centre/featured-species/reptiles-and-amphibians/eastern-hog-nosed-snake.html
Plummer, M. V., & Mills, N. E. (1996). Observations on trailing and mating behaviors in hognose snakes (Heterodon platirhinos). Journal of Herpetology, 30(1), 80-82.
Rouse, Jeremy D.; Willson, Robert J.; Black, Ron; Brooks, Ronald J.  (2011). Movement and Spatial Dispersion of Sistrurus catenatus and Heterodon platirhinos: Implications for Interactions with Roads. Copeia, 2011(3), 443–456. doi:10.1643/ce-09-036     
Seburn, D. 2008. Recovery Strategy for the Eastern Hog-nosed Snake (Heterodon platirhinos) in Canada. Species at Risk Act Recovery Strategy Series. Parks Canada Agency, Ottawa. vi + 24pp.
Schwartz, V. & D. Golden (2002). Field Guide to Reptiles and Amphibians of New Jersey. New Jersey Division of Fish and Wildlife
VHS: Virginia herpetological society http://www.virginiaherpetologicalsociety.com/reptiles/snakes/eastern-hog-nosed-snake/eastern_hognose_snake.php#:~:text=Heterodon%20is%20derived%20from%20the%20Greek%20words%20heteros,meaning%20%22broad%20or%20flat%22%20and%20rhinos%20meaning%20%22snout%22
Young, R. A. (1992). Effects of Duvernoy's gland secretions from the eastern hognose snake, Heterodon platirhinos, on smooth muscle and neuromuscular junction. Toxicon, 30(7), 775-779. https://doi.org/10.1016/0041-0101(92)90013-U
Young, B. A., & Morain, M. (2003). Vertical burrowing in the Saharan sand vipers (Cerastes). Copeia, 2003(1), 131-137.
SARA: threatened https://www.canada.ca/en/environment-climate-change/services/species-risk-public-registry.html
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scoutswritingcorner · 3 months
Note
This is me humbly asking for that idea we were talking about- where reader? Literally climbs angel Dust
Kisses
Angel Dust x Gn/Male Reader
A/N: This can either be read as platonic/romantic. But I will mostly write Angel Dust with a Male Reader but this is written for the Lovely Kuro cause we were joking about this. Also a small lil blurb.
TW:None? Kissing? Idk I’m just here to love Angel Dust.
You sat on the velvet couch in the foyer of the Hotel nursing a glass of whatever mixed drink gave you today. You were very fond of letting him have free reign of what he made you, some were better than others but other than that you had a great time tasting random drinks. Listening to whatever the egg bois were saying to Pentious at the time and watching the poor snake run around trying to answer all their questions as Nifty ran around cleaning up and killing roaches. Oh to be able to stab your worries away with roaches. Alastor played soft jazz on his cane as he sat next to you reading the current headline on the paper. 
Taking a sip from your drink you softly hummed tasting the fruity concoction but it hid the stronger taste of alcohol, Husk truly outdid himself with this one. You watched as Angel walked down the stairs grumbling about something as he glanced at his phone. “You’re staring,” Alastor called out, causing you to jump and your cheeks to heat up. “I was not…I was simply admiring.” You croaked out causing him to let out a low chuckle as he fixed his hold on the paper.
You stood up, drinking the rest of the liquid courage in your cup, before Alastor could make a remark but you did notice how his smile seemed to stretch farther up his cheeks. You placed your now empty cup down on the coffee table which Nifty started to use as her bug collection cup (Gross..but whatever), you fixed your shirt as you strode over to Angel Dust who was currently standing in one place, phone still in his hand. Husker smirked and chuckled, “You got company, Angel.” He called out, causing said spider to look up at him.
“What are ya’ talking about?” Angel asked confused before he yelped, watching as you lifted yourself up onto a stool before holding onto his shoulders, wrapping your legs around him in one swift motion. Angel swiftly wrapped his lower arms around your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck, one hand moving to the back of his head as you started to place kisses on his cheek before moving across his face, a soft chuckle escaping him. “Well hello to you too Suga’~.” Angel purred out holding you closer to him. Causing you to let out a soft laugh continuing to litter small kisses across his face, “What did I do to get such amazing treatment?” He asked, ignoring how Charlie audibly ‘awwed’ at the scene and Alastor scoffed, his ears falling flat against his head. 
“Mm nothing~ Just wanted to show my favorite spider some lovin’.” You replied leaning back and hummed as Angel blushed, “Well I’m not complaining” he retorted out smiling softly at you.
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eggs-can-draw · 1 year
Text
Naegamigiri except at the yearly Christmas party they get each other a small box shaped gift so they they can pull both out when talking to someone and go “I hope they like their gift,,,” all dramatically just for the gifts to not be a proposal.
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annwrites · 29 days
Text
exactly what he needs, pt. 4 ♡ ⋆。˚ | other parts here
— pairing: nate jacob x fem!reader
— type: ficlet (multi-chapter)
— summary: nate & you have breakfast together, made by you. he then takes you grocery shopping, & later in the week, he finally asks you to be his!
— tags: cute lil domestic moments, you wearing nate's jersey, meeting the parents day 1, first kiss
— tw: dollification (mans isn't even trying to hide it anymore, he straight-up is tying bows in your hair now), eating, snooping, it being implied that nate has already thought about one day baby-trapping you if push-comes-to-shove, misogyny (he's so mean to cassie), threatening, f receiving oral, emotional manipulation, possessiveness
— word count: 11,661
— a/n: reader uses pads bc i use pads & we are all about self-inserts around here (i never learned how to use tampons, don't judge me). honestly, idk how nate would feel about pads. like, on the one hand, i can see him as seeing them as more "unsanitary", but also preferring it if reader is still a virgin. tbh, he prob just tries to pretend periods don't exist, & doesn't want to hear about it if you're on yours, apart from a slight heads-up & being informed once everything down there is back to normal.
i hope this doesn't seem like things are moving too fast in reader & nate already getting together, but tbf, nate & cassie had hung out for what? prob at most a couple hrs when fezco beat his ass, & then the boy is lying in the hospital thinking he's in love & wants to have babies with her. i say it's on-par for his character lol.
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The next morning after your day together is the first time Nate ever shoots you a text. 
A simple Good morning, sweetheart.
You stare at it for around ten minutes, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. You type up a reply, then delete it. Then type up another and backspace the entirety of it as well.
Finally, you press send on a simple Good morning. (:
Nate: Any plans for today?
You: Might clean the house a bit, then go grocery shopping.
You watch as three little dots dance on your screen, then suddenly disappear. You then suppose you’ve not supplied an incredibly interesting answer.
You toss your phone down on the bed, deciding to finally get up for the day. It’s nearly fifteen minutes later when you check your texts again and see that Nate replied…ten minutes ago.
Nate: How do you get your groceries home?
You: There’s a store not too far from here. If I don’t have very many, I usually just carry them as I walk. If I have quite a few, sometimes I take the bus.
Speaking of which, you need to check the schedule for it today and plan accordingly. That is, until Nate replies. 
Nate: I can drive you there and back. I don’t mind.
You begin to type, telling him that’s completely unnecessary, but you’re not fast enough.
A text from him pops up: omw
You throw yourself back on your bed, groaning. You’ve just woken up.
You hadn’t planned to go to the store for perhaps a few more hours. You want to at least wake up first. Eat something, then clean. Even if the house is already essentially spotless, but you have a cleaning schedule you try to adhere to to keep it that way. And to give yourself something to do on the weekends in your spare time.
Which is, apart from tutoring, all you really have.
You decide to just stay in your PJs—a pair of soft blue shorts with clouds on them and a white t-shirt.
You’ve already washed your face and brushed your teeth, as well as your hair—which is now in a bun atop your head.
You make your bed, opening your curtains, letting the morning sunshine into your room before you go to the living room and flip the lock on the door to let Nate in.
You then head to the kitchen to decide on what to make for breakfast. You’re torn between eggs and bacon, or waffles, with perhaps a small side of French toast, when you hear a truck roar into your driveway.
You’re torn from your debating over breakfast by a knock on the door.
“It’s open!”
Nate enters the house, slipping off his shoes, closing the door behind him. 
“I’m in the kitchen,” you call softly.
He comes to stand in the entryway. “Want me to give you a few while you get ready?”
He surely hopes you’re not the type who goes to the store in her pajamas, at least.
You turn around to look at him, leaning back against the counter behind you, crossing your arms over your chest. “Actually, I was planning on going later this afternoon. After cleaning. And eating… I haven’t had breakfast yet,” you say sheepishly.
“Shit,” he hangs his head for a moment, then looks at you again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fuck up your plans for the day. I just didn’t have anything to do this morning, so I thought I’d run over and help you out.”
You shake your head. “It’s ok. I appreciate it. You don’t have to stay if you have somewhere else you need to be.”
“I don’t. Not until this evening, at least.”
His dipshit dad wants everyone to have a family dinner together, while Nate wants to do anything else.
Like be here with you.
“Have you eaten yet?”
He has—a breakfast burrito maybe an hour ago. “No, do you want to go somewhere and get breakfast?”
“I could make us something instead?” You turn back around, opening the fridge again. “Any requests?”
He’s quiet for a moment, just taking you and this moment both in. You, still in your pajamas, having just rolled out of bed a little while ago, standing in the kitchen in the early-morning light, offering to cook for him. It’s all so…domestic. And a warm feeling forms in his chest at it—imaging this as his home with you. Imagining you’re both married and your kids are still asleep in the other room. 
You glance back to him.
He shakes his head to clear it. “I’m sorry, I’ve just never done—had this before.”
“What?”
“My-” he stops himself before he can say ‘girlfriend’. “A girl cooking for me.”
Your brows furrow. “Really? Neither Cassie or Maddy ever did?”
He chuckles. “I honestly don’t think of either of them know how.”
“That’s sad,” you state simply, before turning back around. “So, do you want bacon and eggs, or waffles, pancakes…I can do French toast?”
“Whatever you want to do is fine with me.” He likes that you know how to make so many things. That you want to do so for him. He’d chosen right with you. 
You turn around yet again. “You’re my guest, so you get to pick.”
He smirks, shrugging. “Bacon and eggs is fine with me.”
“How do you like your eggs?”
“Scrambled works.”
You nod, then start pulling out cookware.
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Nate had stood to the side, watching as you worked, occasionally sipping on a mug of black coffee—you’d put some on just after having gotten up. He’d asked more than once if you wanted help as he watched you flit about the kitchen, but you’d only smiled and shook your head.
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Finally, once breakfast is ready, you make the both of you a plate and carry them into the dining room, sitting his plate on one side of the table and yours on the other.
You take your seat before he can bother pulling it out for you. He tries not to let it irk him. He tells himself it’s because it’s a habit, since you’re in your own home. You’re not used to being catered to. But neither is he.
Thankfully, Nate had gone for a run after eating earlier, so he’s able to clean his plate. He doesn’t want your feelings hurt—for you to feel insulted—by him not eating every last bite. And it had been rather good, actually.
“You’re a good cook.” 
You look up to him, beaming. “Thank you, I’m glad you liked it. Do you want anything else?”
He leans back, shaking his head. “I don’t think I can fit anymore.”
You nod, standing, taking both your plates into the kitchen, placing them in the dishwasher.
You return to the dining room and remain silent as Nate types a message out on his phone, looking up to you as he tucks it back into his pocket.
“I’ll get dressed and then we can head out.”
He stands. “It’s warm out.”
You smile. “Thanks for the forecast.”
He smirks. “You could—if you want to—wear the skirt and top I bought you.”
You’d hung everything up to dry last night and had truthfully forgotten about all of it until his just-now reminding you.
“Unless you don’t like them?”
You shake your head. “No, I do. I just…I wish you had asked me first.”
“Would you have let me get them for you if I had?”
You wrap your arms around yourself. “Probably not.”
“Then I made the right decision to make it a surprise.” 
He heads in the direction of your bedroom, then, and you trail after him. “I just don’t understand why.”
You feel stupid, speaking to the back of his head.
He comes to sit in the swing-chair in the corner of your room. “Why what?”
“Why you bought me everything you did. I looked up the necklace, how much it costs…”
He’s unphased by it, knowing he’d spent well over a grand on you yesterday. But in truth, it hadn’t been nearly the amount he’d wanted to spend.
He'd wanted—more than anything—to take you into a lingerie store and blow a ton of cash on you there, watching you try on everything he asked you to. But he knew better. For now, at least.
“So I wanted to get you a few nice things. You act like it’s some sort of terrible thing for me to have done.”
You sit on the corner of your bed, facing him. “I’m very grateful. For all of it. I just…I hope you don’t think you need to buy my friendship, Nate. I’m not going anywhere.”
It has nothing to do with friendship. But he can’t tell you just how much it turns him on: spoiling you, buying you expensive things, the idea of you being covered in him—from shoes, to clothes, to jewelry, to perfume and more. It gets him off—makes getting off easier, in truth. Until he has your body to do that with, that is, at least.
He leans forward. “I’m glad to hear that. But you don’t have to worry—I never thought I did.”
He glances to your closet. “Do you want to get dressed?”
“I should probably check to make sure everything is dry. I hung everything up last night.”
You leave your bedroom, heading in the direction of the laundry room. 
Meanwhile, Nate stands, finally having a moment alone in your room. He wrenches open the drawer on your bedside table and is met with a couple remotes, a book, a few hair ties, a charging cable…nothing of interest. So he closes it.
Heart pounding, he peeks out your bedroom door—you’re nowhere to be seen—and he then opens the top drawer of your dresser next. Ever-organized, your panties are all in individual cubbies—all cotton, some solid colors, others with patterns printed across them, like small flowers and stars. He picks up a bra. White, with a bit of lace, a small bow in the front, another sage-green. Everything utterly virginal. He digs, but finds not one sex toy.
Perhaps you have them elsewhere. 
He jumps when he hears a door close. He steps into the hall a moment and sees the bathroom door is now shut. 
He returns to your room, getting on the floor and looking under your bed, where there’s only a couple vacuum-sealed bags full of clothes. He then quietly opens your closet. On the top shelf are a few boxes. He pulls down a shoe box, which, unsurprisingly, has a pair of brand new tennis shoes inside. He puts it back, pulling down another.
And it’s full of old Polaroids. They’re all from when you were younger. You and your dad, another of the two of you, a photo of a butterfly, another of a dog looking up at the camera, and he nearly drops the box when he finds a picture of the two of you. The pair of you can’t be more than six or seven-years-old, both of you smiling toothy grins up at the camera.
He flips it over. Written in faded blue ink on the back, it reads “Nate + Y/N ‘05”. He pockets the picture, putting the lid back on the box and setting it back in your closet. 
He stops snooping and sits back in his previous seat, unable to remember the picture ever having been taken. He wonders if you do.
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When you finally emerge from the bathroom, Nate is still sitting in the corner of your room, his head leaned back and eyes closed, hands folded in his lap.
You silently sit on the edge of your bed, folding your legs over one another, draping your new pink skirt over them. You don't want to wake him, so just as you begin to consider changing back, closing your door and cleaning the house while he rests, he slowly opens his eyes.
"If you'd like to take a nap, you can."
He shakes his head, looking you over. You look perfect. For the most part. "Don't want to wear your necklace today?"
You glance to the robin's-egg colored box on top of your dresser. In truth, you're a bit paranoid about wearing something so expensive. What if the chain breaks and by the time you realize, it's long-gone?
You then look back to him, watching as he stands, opens the small box, then removes the necklace inside.
He comes to sit down behind you, slipping the chain around your neck, fastening it into place.
He then begins to tug the hairband from your ponytail.
You half-turn your head back toward him. "What're you-"
"Do you mind if I do your hair for you?"
You're starting to wonder if Nate has some hidden interest in hair-styling.
"I...I guess not."
He slips your hairband free, it coming to rest on his wrist along with the one he'd taken from you yesterday.
You sit there silently, enjoying the feeling of someone else's fingers in your hair once again, your cheeks growing warm as you feel him pull one side of your hair into a pigtail—something you're not quite sure about, but you decide to only make a judgement once he's finished.
He then does the same with the other side, smoothing some hair down your back, before gripping both your upper arms. "Done."
You stand, walking over to the mirror set atop your dresser and inspecting the half-up, half-down style. One pigtail on either side, the rest of your hair against your back.
"I think you look really pretty like that," he says from the bed behind you.
Who knew the star-quarterback had hidden hair-dressing talents.
You turn back around to him. "So when do I get to do your hair?"
He raises a brow.
"I could put clips and bows and ribbons-"
"Do you have ribbons?"
He...he can't seriously want you to put one in his hair...
"Yes."
He stands. "Where?"
"In the bathroom, the second drawer below the sink."
He leaves you standing there as he goes to rifle through them, returning a moment later with two that match the color of your skirt.
"Nate-"
"Turn around."
You're not sure that you appreciate his demanding tone, but do as he says nevertheless.
Once you have bows tied around either pigtail, Nate puts his hand against the small of your back. "Let's head out."
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When the two of you arrive at the store, you go to get out, until Nate stops you by grabbing your left hand. "Wait for me to get it."
You sit back in your seat and wait for him to come around to your side. Once the door is open, you speak. "You don't have to come in with me if you'd rather wait here. I know grocery shopping, well, shopping in general, can be tedious."
He shrugs. "I don't mind."
He takes your hand, helping you down and shuts the door, leading you inside.
Nate stays close to your side as you toss various items into your cart—paying acute attention to each thing you do. You don't get a terrible amount of junk food, but he wishes you'd forgo the cereal. He'd already told you from here on out he'd be bringing you breakfast every morning.
He studies what kind of conditioner you use, what kind of lady razor, even your morning facial-wash. He briefly daydreams about getting you ready for the day—the detailed process he would go through to make you look like his own perfect living doll.
It's when you're in the frozen foods aisle that you briefly pause as he pretends to look over the frozen pizzas, when he's actually watching you. Watching you stare at a couple across the way, giggling and kissing each other, the girl's hand resting over her swollen belly, that is.
Hurt flashes across your features and he briefly grows angry, wondering if it's jealousy—if you know the man.
He steps over to you. "Do you know them?"
You jump in surprise at his presence, having been lost in your thoughts. You shake your head, throwing a bag of frozen vegetables in the cart. "No." You're quiet for a moment. "I was just thinking."
"About?"
You look at the happy pair again. "What that must feel like."
He places his palm against the small of your back, refusing to remove it for the rest of the shopping trip.
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Nate of course takes it upon himself to not only load every single grocery bag into the bed of his truck, but also unloading and bringing every one into the kitchen once you're home. He simply watches from a kitchen island stool as you put them away.
He eventually excuses himself to your bathroom, deciding to finally cross the boundary of going through your medicine cabinet.
He locks the door, turning the faucet on as he goes through the cabinet under your sink first. Some toilet paper, a box of pads, some pantiliners, cotton balls, cotton pads—basic bathroom paraphernalia.
He then starts pulling open drawers. One he's already familiar with, it's filled with small baskets which hold elastics, hair bands, bows, clips, headbands and the like. Another houses hot-tools: a curling iron, which looks barely-used, a straightener, which has clearly been well-loved—the company name all but rubbed off of it, even an old crimping iron, and a blow-dryer.
He moves onto the last drawer, which just has extra toothpaste, toothbrushes, some lotion, triple antibiotic, extra shaving gel, and some other odds-and-ends.
Finally, he opens the medicine cabinet, curious if you're on birth control. If so, that will be coming to a stop immediately. Not only does he hate the horrid list of side effects that come with it, but once the two of you start fucking, he wants to be in complete control of your reproductive options.
Needs to be if... Well, if he eventually decides he can't live without you and has to resort to drastic options to keep the two of you permanently connected for the rest of your lives, he'll have that option.
But all he finds is some Tylenol, Advil, expired allergy pills, an old prescription bottle with your dad's name on it, a bottle of mouthwash, a small cup of bobby pins, some q-tips, and a couple—of course—clean makeup brushes, a few other items here and there.
He quickly searches the shower and just finds a few bottles of various kinds of soap.
Finally, he flushes the toilet, turns the water off, and comes to join you in the kitchen.
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Nate had left not longer after you'd finished cleaning the house, him offering to help, but you telling him you could never ask a guest to do such a thing, so he'd instead sat on the couch, idly watching football, fantasizing once again about you being his perfect little housewife. Cooking and cleaning and grocery shopping for him, allowing him to dress you up and show you off.
It's in the moment as he watches you humming to yourself as you dust off the mantle that he decides this Thursday you'll finally be his.
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Nate continues on with the studying ruse to continue spending one-on-one time with you.
Monday, you'd done exactly as he'd asked: you'd worn the white dress, a pair of flats with it even, your new necklace, a hint of blush, and you'd even curled your hair, which had made him hard near-instantly.
It had taken everything in him not to hold your hand as the two of you walked into school. As soon as he spotted Lexi—the ridiculous look on her face as she watched the two of you—he pulled you in the other direction before you could see her yourself, seating you with him and his friends. When you had brought up going to find Lexi, he'd merely told you he thought it might be nice for you to meet some new people that morning.
He knew by their expressions that his friends had wanted to say something—anything about you—perhaps throw around some vulgar jokes, but the death-glare he greeted them with instead kept them talking about football and some party that had gone on this last weekend, which he'd been unaware of, too concerned with filling his time with you.
As the week went on, the two of you began to text more and more. You woke up everyday to him and went to sleep to messages from him. He'd even called you once, and the two of you chatted for almost an hour about everything and nothing. He would've been content to stay up all night listening to your voice, until you had gotten off the phone, telling him you were going to sleep and you would see him in the morning.
You had no idea he was outside of your house that night, watching your bedside lamp flicker off.
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Thursday after school, once the two of you are finished studying, Nate finally takes the plunge, praying to fucking God he gets what he's been dying to have for the last two weeks.
He pulls out his extra jersey from his bookbag, handing it to you.
You look up to him, confused.
"I thought you could wear it tomorrow to school, and the game that night."
You look down at it, the metallic number '18' on the front, then back up to him once more. "Isn't...isn't wearing a player's jersey to school something girlfriends usually do?"
He scoots the least bit closer to you, his legs on either side of your chair. He reaches up, gently gripping the back of your neck, light enough that it seems just a sweet gesture, but he knows what he means it as: him touching what is about to belong to him.
"Would that be such a bad thing?"
You blink once, twice. "What?"
He takes one of your hands in his free one. "Listen, the last few weeks," even if he knows it's only been two, but so little time together sounds...not the best out loud, "spending time with you has been a welcome change in my life. I know it started out as just tutoring, and we can keep doing that, of course. But, Y/N, I really, really like you. Being around you is just...so fucking easy. You're easy to talk to, to hang out with, to text with. And you're incredibly beautiful. And kind. And smart. Honestly, I could go on for the next hour, if not longer, about all your admirable qualities. Suffice to say that I'm very-much interested in being with you. And if you feel the same way that I do, then maybe we can give this a shot."
A strange, uneasy feeling comes over you. You tell yourself it's because you've never been asked out before. Never had someone show such blatant interest in you before like this. You're used to being alone, so of course the idea of being with someone—anyone—but especially Nate Jacobs, star football player, his dad's name being a household name in East Highland, and the guy every girl at school seems to want—seems unthinkable.
"I...I didn't think I was your type."
So does that mean you have thought about it? Being with him?
He runs his thumb over your knuckles. "I didn't think so either. But that's precisely why I think you're so good for me. You're not attention-seeking. Dating girls like that in the past has caused me nothing but trouble. You're not superficial. You care about shit—see things—in ways others just don't. Not at our age, at least. Not at our school. You're mature, responsible, know how to take care of yourself..."
He trails off, wanting you to reply. To just say yes. To give yourself to him.
"I don't know about this..."
His grip on your hand tightens just the smallest bit. "What's your concern?"
"How do I know you're not rebounding, from Cassie or Maddy?"
He shakes his head. "I'm not. I should've been done with Maddy a long time ago for the way she treated me. What she did at McKay's...I can never forgive that. And Cassie was a mistake from the first moment. We had both been drinking. And I just...I wasn't thinking clearly. But I am now. And I know what I want."
You look down to your lap. "And what if I screw things up? I've never dated someone before. I'd have no idea what to even do."
"Nothing here has to change. Not really. Us being together just means spending more time together." He fights back a smirk. "And me finally getting to kiss you."
Your head jerks up.
"Once you're ready," he adds on, knowing you'll be ready when he deems you so.
"And what if I'm just one more person to hurt or let you down?"
He feels like with that one question alone—you being so concerned for his wellbeing—he falls in love with you.
He releases your neck, now cupping your cheek. "You won't be. Do you think I haven't thought the same thing? You were abandoned by your mom. Your dad, too, essentially. The last thing I want is to be one more person to leave you. So I don't plan to.
"Listen, I'm not saying everything is going to be like a picture-perfect fairytale all the time, but I think so long as we're both happy, give each other our all, and consistently work at what we have, then we'll both be happy.
"Just in the time we've spent together, I've already opened up more to you alone than I have to anyone else in I can't tell you how long. I trust you."
He brushes the pad of his thumb over your lower lip and you want to cry from how gentle and sweet he's being—has been—with you.
Finally, you resign yourself to the likely fate of your first heartbreak.
"Okay."
His brows raise. "Yeah?"
You nod, a small smile on your face, your eyes filling with tears of joy. "Yes."
He stands, picking you up, wrapping your legs around his middle and your arms around his neck before spinning you around. "Oh, baby, I am going to make you so fucking happy."
You look down at him, and you believe it.
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When you wake the next morning, you only get so far as brushing your teeth and washing your face when you hear a truck outside.
Still half-asleep, you wander to the front door and look through the peephole to see Nate coming up to it, one of his arms behind his back. You briefly wonder if you'd overslept as you flip the lock and open the door.
He comes in, pressing a kiss to your warm forehead. "Morning, angel."
You look up to him with sleepy eyes. "Am I running late?"
He smirks, thinking of the things he'd love to do with you while you're still half-asleep like this. It'd be too all easy to take control in bed.
He shakes his head. "No, I'm early," he says, pulling a bouquet of a dozen white roses out from behind his back.
You gasp lightly, taking them from him. "They're beautiful." You look up to him. "You didn't have to bring me flowers now that we're together."
It feels oddly strange to say.
He presses another kiss to your forehead. "I wanted to. It's something I want to do for you, bring my girlfriend flowers, take her on dates," he shuts the door behind him, backing you up against the wall, the flowers clutched against your chest as he places his palms on either side of you. "I hope you know I intend to spoil you fucking rotten."
Your eyes widen. "Oh."
He smirks. "C'mon, let's go get you ready."
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Once you've put your flowers in a glass vase near a window in the kitchen, Nate takes your hand, leading you into the bathroom.
"Sit," he says before stopping himself, nearly opening the drawer to your straightener. He doesn't need you knowing he'd been snooping. "Straightener?"
"Uh...top drawer," you reply, seating yourself on the toilet lid
He retrieves the device, plugging it in.
As it heats up, he grabs your hairbrush from atop the sink and comes to stand behind you, running the bristles through your hair.
"You...you don't have to do my hair."
"I want to."
In truth, he wants to shave and moisturize your legs as well, then dress you in his jersey—picking out a bra and panties, too, before doing your makeup.
"Did you do this for Maddy and Cassie as well?"
He'd bought Maddy clothes, but she would've never let him dress her. Would've most-likely mocked him had he so much as given her a ponytail. Cassie was obviously a different story. "No. And we don't have to talk about them anymore. They're in the past now."
You fidget nervously with your hands. "Isn't that important—addressing our pasts to get to know one another better?"
Once your hair is free of tangles, he sets the brush down on top of the toilet tank. He then comes to stand in front of you, kneeling down to make the two of you level. "It is, but I don't want you to worry about either of them. You're the best thing for me now."
He sprays some heat-protectant on your hair before beginning to straighten it.
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Nate gives you some privacy as you go over your legs with a razor one more time before getting dressed, even if you'd shaved the night previous. When you're finished, you come to stand in front of the mirror, and you simply stare.
Your hair is like it was the other day when you went grocery shopping, only, instead of ribbons on either side, he'd used hair bands that have two small balls on them that match the color of the numbering on his jersey. He'd actually done surprisingly well in doing your hair.
When you step out of the bathroom, he's waiting for you in your bedroom, his extra jersey, which you'd had hung up in your closet, now resting on your bed.
You nearly want to pinch yourself, everything seems so unreal in this moment.
He picks up the blush he'd gotten you, along with a makeup brush from your hardly-ever-used vanity and he dips it into the fine powder before gripping your chin, swiping the brush over the apples of both of your cheeks once, then twice.
You giggle nervously. "I'm starting to feel like a living-doll or something."
He smirks, snapping the compact shut, setting the materials back where they go. "I just like taking care of you."
He picks up your diamond Tiffany necklace, one more sign of his ownership over you, and clasps it around your neck.
He nods down to the jersey. "I'll let you get dressed."
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Nate fights back a raging erection every mile to school. Here you sit, completely fucking covered in him, in the passenger seat of his truck. He'd done your hair, your makeup, bought the piece of jewelry you're now wearing, and his jersey hangs from your frame like a dress—he'd also picked out the white pair of tennis shoes from your closet that you're now wearing. Even eating a muffin he'd stopped to pick up for you.
He wants to pull over in a secluded spot somewhere and claim your virginity—one more part of you that will now belong to him—but he tells himself that will come soon enough.
If his plan works, you'll be in his bed, a whimpering, crying, whining, begging mess under him, sooner rather than later.
Your pussy will be his to fuck whenever and however he pleases.
He'll finally be back to no longer having to use his hand.
His fucked-up sexual fantasies of the two of you will finally get to come true
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When Nate pulls into the lot, he 'accidentally' steps on one of your shoelaces after you've gotten out of the truck. He lifts you back up into your seat, setting your foot atop his knee—just like at the bowling alley—and people watch from their cars as he ties your shoe for you.
Finally, he takes your hand, firmly twining your fingers together, before locking his vehicle behind the two of you, as you walk into school together.
And you feel yourself begin to sweat nervously with every pair of eyes that turn your way, some people clearly not thinking much of it—bless those few—while others react with shocked expressions, whispering amongst themselves, eyeing you up and down, making you want to crawl inside a hole.
You look up to Nate and he looks nothing short of confident and unbothered.
You then glance over to Lexi's table and Lexi's expression somehow looks...sad? Disappointed, maybe?
Cassie, however, is shaking she's so enraged.
You quickly balk and look away from her before sitting down beside Nate, thankful you had worn a pair of black bicycle shorts under his jersey.
You drown out Nate's football friends chatting with him about tonight's game as he places his hand on your knee, then slowly moves it higher, then higher, until it's on the middle of your thigh.
You can feel your face growing warm out of mortification. What if someone sees? Thinks that the two of you are...well, already doing that.
You're torn from worrisome thoughts, thinking perhaps you'd made a mistake—you're not sure exactly what choice to consider as much—by Nate squeezing your leg.
You blink up at him. "What?"
He nods toward his friend. "He asked you a question."
You look at the young man across the table, who's maybe a year younger than the both of you, with black hair and hazel eyes, braces still on his teeth.
"I'm sorry, I guess I didn't hear you."
"I asked if you were going to be at the game tonight, since you're Nate's new girl."
"Of course she is," Nate replies for you. "She'll be in the stands cheering us onto victory. Right, baby?"
You give him a nervous smile, then nod.
He's pleased with your agreeable response.
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When you get into second period, Cassie is already there, in her seat, which is just behind and diagonal to yours. You don't look at her as you lie your books on your desk, afraid to meet her eyes.
Then you hear her whisper "bitch" as you take your seat.
You slowly turn back to look at her, filled with hurt at the cruel name.
She gives you a nasty look. "What are you looking at?" She asks in a snide tone.
You turn back around without another word, fighting back tears for the rest of class, unable to think of anything else but how she'd always been so nice to you, and now despises you.
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Once class is over, you go out to your locker, so distracted that you don't see Nate leaning against the one next to it with a smile meant only for you.
A smile that immediately disappears when he sees the sullen look on your face, and your bloodshot eyes.
You fumble with your lock twice before finally getting your locker open.
"What's wrong?"
You nearly jump at the sound of his voice.
You shake your head, setting your books back on their shelves with shaking hands. "N-nothing."
He leans down closer to you and speaks gently, quietly. "Something happened. Tell me."
He isn't going to take no for an answer.
You shake your head and he feels his fuse growing shorter. "Did someone say something to you?"
You look up to him. "I don't want to cause any trouble."
He delicately laces his fingers through your hair. "You won't. Just tell me what happened, sweetheart."
You shift from one foot to the other, clutching one of your textbooks to your chest. "Cassie. She-"
His tone grows hard. "What did she do?"
"When I got into class she called me a bitch. I wasn't...I wasn't sure if I heard her correctly. I turned around to look at her and she just...she had such a mean look on her face and asked me what I was looking at, so I just turned around."
He clenches his jaw so hard he's sure it will break. If that stupid whore ruins what he'd just gotten to finally happen with you—making you his—he'll fucking kill her. Actually kill her.
He wants to make a scene right in the middle of the hallway, wants to show you just how far he's willing to go to protect you, even just your feelings, but he knows it will only frighten you away. Showing his devotion to you in extreme measures is something that will have to come in time.
He presses a firm kiss to your forehead, staring down Cassie across the way, who's watching the both of you with a devastated look on her face. He then looks down at you, lifting your chin until your eyes are looking into his own. "Just ignore her. She's jealous. That's all it is. Eventually she'll get over it and move onto her next flavor-of-the-month."
You nod, grabbing the rest of your things for third period.
He smiles down at you, brushing his knuckles against your cheek. "I'll be there in a minute. I'm going to run to the restroom first."
You nod, heading to class.
Once you're out of sight, he makes a b-line for Cassie.
And the dumb bitch is stupid enough to actually smile at him.
When he reaches her, he slams her locker shut with one hand—causing her to jump—keeping it firmly in place against it as he stares her down. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
She shakes some hair off of her shoulder, looking up to him, back straight, eyes pensive. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"That's complete fucking bull. Y/N told me what happened in second period." He lowers his voice so only she can hear. "Let's get one thing straight, you desperate whore, if you screw this up for me, you won't like what happens to you. You have no idea the things I'm capable of—the lengths I'm willing to go to—when someone tries to destroy my life or take someone I love away from me."
She flinches at that—him admitting it—his feelings for you. And after such a short time...
"We had our fun, now I'm done with you, just like the other half of the male student population here. The fuck did you really think was going to happen with us? Did you think we'd...what? Get married, have kids, and live in a cul-de-sac in some fantasy where you're actually a good person that any man would deem worthy of marriage? I got exactly what I wanted and threw your ass to the curb when I got bored and you started acting fucking psychotic."
He points his finger at her face and she shrinks back against a locker, tears stinging her eyes. "Stay the fuck away from me, and even further away from Y/N. If I find out you've said another word—so much as come near her... Just try me, Cass."
With that, he steps away, heading to third period.
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After school, Nate drops you off, promising he'll be back that evening to pick you up before the game, and you give him a soft kiss on the cheek before he leaves.
Once you're alone, for some reason, you feel like you can finally breathe. Like some weight had been bearing down on your chest all day and has suddenly lifted.
You blame it on the crowded halls and your noisy classmates.
You leave your hair the way it is, but change into something more comfortable before finding something to eat and sitting down to do homework.
In the middle of finishing your math homework, you begin to think of what had happened with Cassie. It had hurt your feelings, but you aren't angry. If anything, you feel sad on her behalf. While she was, of course, partly to blame, she'd still lost her best friend and boyfriend both, as well as earning herself an even worse reputation around school. You tell yourself the anger isn't necessarily directed at you. That's she's just lashing out in general due to being hurt and alone, and you're an easy target.
You're not sure trying to make nice with her is a good idea, however.
Your phone buzzes, ripping you away from your worries about Maddy trying to come after you next, even if she seems to have far less interest in you and Nate—minus that day in the parking lot—when you check it. You see that it's from Nate.
Nate: Be by around 6 to pick you up.
You: See you then. (:
Nate: Make sure to wear my jersey. 🏈
You grin at his finally using emojis.
You: I will. ❤️
You're left with a little over two hours to yourself before he'll be there to pick you up again. So you take another shower, knowing you sweated a bit more than usual today, then lie back on your bed and try to distract yourself with a movie.
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Shortly before six, you dress in Nate's jersey again, and a fresh pair of panties and bicycle shorts before going out to sit on the swing in front of your house to wait for him.
You can't help but smile when he pulls up, butterflies in your stomach.
He comes around, opening the passenger door to the truck. Once you're seated, before you can buckle yourself, he does so for you.
You don't manage to say anything, such as telling him that him doing that really isn't necessary, before he shuts the door.
Nate rolls down the windows, blasting upbeat rap music on the way back to the school. You smile, thinking he looks cute when he's excited. He doesn't seem to exhibit that emotion a lot.
Then again, apart from winning at bowling, neither do you.
Perhaps the both of you are too serious for your age.
You lean back, a smile on your face, and he rests his hand on your upper thigh. You tell yourself you're fine with him touching you there.
That it doesn't make you uncomfortable.
That he's just trying to be a sweet boyfriend.
Once the two of you pull in, the parking lot is only sparingly filled. But the game also doesn't start until after seven.
Once Nate has helped you out of the truck, disliking that you'd already unbuckled yourself before he got a chance to, he takes your hand in his—his duffle bag slung over his other shoulder—as he heads in the direction of the field house. One you're around the backside of the school, he drops his bag on the ground, turning back to you.
He cups your cheek in his large palm. "Can I get a kiss for good luck?"
You hesitate for a moment. Then, "Yes," you say with a shy smile.
He smiles down at you in return before pressing you up against the brick building, then lowering his lips to yours.
He fights back a moan at finally getting to be this: your first kiss. The first one to taste you. The only person to ever have this intimate moment with you.
He opens your mouth with his, gently flicking his tongue against your own and he feels your body stiffen, until he does it again and you relax.
He stays like that for a good few minutes, his tongue tasting you, the sun beating down on his back as his form shadows your own, both your eyes closed as you, after seventeen years, finally find out what it's like to be kissed.
And it's slow and gentle and passionate. And you feel heat pool between your thighs.
You whimper against his lips and his cock hardens at the sound.
He pulls back just the least bit, his lips hovering over your own, which are now red, a bit swollen. "What was that?"
"I dunno," you say, gripping his t-shirt, pulling him back down to you.
He grows impossibly harder at the fact you want more.
He easily obliges.
He wants to move his lips down to your neck, wants to give you a hicky before you go sit on the bleachers for the game, but doesn't.
Finally, he pulls away, both your breathing labored. "Alright, I have to go get ready, my little good-luck charm."
You laugh at that.
He presses one more soft kiss to your lips before reaching down and grabbing his bag.
"Oh," he says, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. "This is for your ticket." He hands you a five dollar bill. "And this is incase you want anything from the concessions."
He hands you a fifty and your eyes widen.
"I don't think a pretzel costs that much, Nate."
He shrugs. "Maybe you'll want a souvenir of your first game."
You stand on your tiptoes and he smirks, leaning down again as you wrap your arms around his neck. You press a soft kiss to his cheek, before whispering in his ear. "Good luck. And thank you."
He kisses your lips again before stepping away. "I'll look for you in the bleachers."
He begins to walk backwards toward the field house.
"I'll be there cheering you on."
He smiles at the image of that. "Maybe we can do something after."
You nod. "Good luck!"
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Surprisingly, when you go to sit on the bleachers, Cassie, who's gathered with the rest of the cheerleaders, doesn't look back at you but once, shortly after you first sit down. It'd only been a glance, and then her completely ignoring you, which you're beyond okay with.
You'd bought yourself a water before finding a seat, the day still hot with the sun out, even if it's beginning to slowly set.
A sense of thrill fills you when the players run onto the field, your eyes immediately honing in on number eighteen.
You feel your cheeks grow impossibly warmer when you remember your kiss from earlier.
You watch as the players gather around their coach, Nate removing his helmet as they—you assume—strategize. He glances up to you and gives you a wink and you smile in return, blowing him a kiss.
Once they break, Nate pretends to catch it, pressing it to his chest before putting his helmet back on.
You can't help but admire him in his uniform.
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You've never liked sports before tonight. But with Nate now being your boyfriend and out there on the field, you're completely engrossed. You sit on the edge of your seat the entire game, just watching him running this way and that across the field, blushing when you think about the two of you wearing matching jerseys.
And every time he scores a touchdown, which turns out to be a lot, you hop up from your seat, clapping and smiling, feeling proud of him.
In all honesty, seeing him plowing through the other players and tackling and just...playing the game...actually turns you on a little. Okay, perhaps a bit more than a little. It just makes him look so strong.
You wonder what he would think of that fact.
Once the game is over, the Blackhawks having unsurprisingly won, Nate removes his helmet, yelling and laughing in victory with the rest of his teammates. You smile, glad to see him happy.
He looks into the stands, searching for you and finds you in the same spot you've been in all night.
He waves his hand for you to come down and you do, coming to stand on the other side of the fence from him.
He rests his forearms atop it. "So, what did you think?"
You grip a few of his fingers. "I had fun, which I didn't expect." You giggle to yourself.
"What?" He asks with a smirk.
You shake your head.
"Well, now you have to tell me."
You look up at him from under your lashes and he can already tell he's going to fucking love whatever is about to come out of that pretty little mouth.
"You look really good in your uniform."
He leans forward. "Oh, yeah?"
You nod. "Mhm."
He reaches forward, gripping the one you're wearing, bringing you a bit closer to him. "So do you."
You kiss then, the taste of him now mixed with sweat and grass and fresh air.
He pulls away. "Climb over here."
Watch me fall or hurt myself, you think as you wedge your tennis shoe in the chain-link fence. Once you're halfway up, Nate lifts you the rest of the way over, and you wrap your legs around his middle, running your fingers through his slick hair.
"Sorry, I'm all sweaty."
You shake your head. "I don't mind," you say before kissing him.
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You wait for Nate outside of the field house, leaned back against the red brick stones, staring up at the millions of stars littering the night sky, feeling so completely happy for the first time in you're not sure how long.
Once players begin to file out, you watch for Nate to be among them. When he exits, he glances in your direction, coming over to stand in front of you, offering you his hand. "Ready?"
You nod.
Once you're in his truck, he stands in the passenger side doorway, one of his arms resting against the top of the truck, his other hand against your left calf.
"I've had a really great night, and I don't really want to just drop you off at home, and then it ends."
You just look at him, waiting for him to continue.
"If I ask you to stay the night at my place, will you?"
You shift in your seat. "Doing...doing what?"
"Just sleeping," he states. "Maybe we can watch a movie in bed or something."
You think about it for a moment, not sure you're comfortable with moving this quickly.
"What about your parents?"
"What about 'em?"
"They won't mind you bringing a girl home late at night?"
He shakes his head. "I mind my business and they mind theirs. If I want to invite someone over, they're not going to tell me no."
You think that's a very unconventional way to parent, especially when it comes to him having a girl in his room—in his bed.
"You don't think it's a little early for me to be spending the night?" You ask gently, using a kind tone to try and prevent hurting his feelings.
He's quiet for a moment, now looking away from you. "I'm sorry. I guess I got too excited to spend more time with you tonight. It was a stupid idea. I shouldn't have asked in the first place. Just forget I did."
He goes to pull away and you suddenly feel bad. You'd hurt his feeling anyway. Something you had told him you didn't want to do just yesterday.
You quickly grab his hand. "No, I'm sorry. I just...I don't-" you scramble for some excuse that isn't 'this makes me uncomfortable'. "I don't want you to get the wrong impression about me."
He softens, stepping closer to you again, his hand sliding up your thigh. "Like what?"
You relax at the tension quickly dissipating. "Like..." you bite your lip. "Like I'm easy. Or...or a slut. Or-"
That same hand comes up to caress your cheek. "Baby, you'd never even had your first kiss before tonight. I could never think that about you. You're probably the most innocent girl—person, even—at this school. And like I said, we'll only be sleeping."
You look at him for a moment. "I don't have a change of clothes. Or a toothbrush or-"
"You can just wear something of mine. And we have extras, I'll just give you one."
Finally, you cave. "Ok."
He gives you a gentle smile. "Ok."
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When you and Nate pull up to his house, you suddenly feel inadequate at the large home that looms before you. Two stories tall and very, very expensive looking.
You're so busy studying the extravagance of it that you don't notice Nate unbuckling you.
"Your house is-"
"Obnoxious, I know."
He helps you down, taking your hand in his before grabbing his bag and heading inside.
You glance around the foyer, but not for long before Nate begins pulling you toward the stairs. And then you hear his name being called from down the hall.
He stops in his tracks, rolling his eyes.
"Is that your mom?" You whisper.
He drops his duffel bag, which thumps against the floor. "Yeah."
"Nate, come in here, I want to tell you how great you were tonight!"
You take one of his hands in both of yours. "Can I meet her?"
He pulls his hand away without answering. Only, instead, giving you a 'wait here' before walking away.
You stand there, unsure about the sudden shift in his mood. It was like it had happened gradually on the way over and only became more extreme the moment her voice called to him.
Does he really hate being here that much?
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When Nate enters the kitchen, his mom is making a salad at the island, his dad grabbing a beer from the fridge.
Marsha walks around it, gesturing for Nate to lean down to give her a hug, which he does, and she plants a quick kiss to his cheek. "You were so great tonight, honey. Your momma is very proud of you."
He nods. "Thanks."
He glances back down the hall, and then his dad speaks. "You left yourself open too much in the first quarter. I've said it before and I will again, you need to work on that, son."
Nate's fists tighten at his side.
He glances back down the hall again and immediately regrets it.
"Do we have company?" His mom asks.
"No. I do." He takes a step away.
"Wait, hold on. Who is it?"
He rolls his eyes. "Does it fucking matter? I need to get back to her-"
He lets out a low swear. He just had to say 'her'.
His mom crosses her arms, now interested. "Her? Did you bring a girl home?"
"I think your mother means 'another girl' home."
Nate glares at his father as he takes a swig of his beer. Finally, he looks back to his mom. "Yes."
Her brows raise. "Well, do I get to meet her?"
Nate sighs. He steps out of the kitchen, and you look up at him, now full of nerves. He jerks his head in the direction of the kitchen.
You walk up to him. "Is everything ok?" you whisper as he takes your hand.
"It's fine." Is all the reply he gives you before pulling you into the kitchen with him.
Your eyes look this way at that, taking in the lovely décor and the beautiful island and appliances, then looking to his mom, then his dad, who seems to be watching the two of you with no more than idle amusement.
"Mom, dad, this is Y/N. Y/N, these are my parents."
His mom steps forward first, pulling you into an unexpected hug, but you quickly embrace her in return. You don't want to admit how nice it feels to be held by a mother, even if she isn't your own.
Finally, she pulls back, holding you in place by your upper-arms as she looks you over. "Well, don't you just look adorable in Nate's old jersey."
You flush a shade of crimson. "Thank you."
She releases you, placing her hand over her chest. "I'm Marsha, the mom. And this is-"
"Cal," His father finishes, stepping up to the island, reaching across it to shake your hand.
You nearly tell him you already know his name, but refrain, knowing doing so will only make this moment more awkward.
Once introductions are through, you step back to Nate's side.
"It's nice to meet the both of you."
"Oh, she's polite!" His mom chimes in. "I already like her a lot better than Maddy. Not that that's hard to achieve." She takes a bite of her salad, swallowing. "She was a truly awful girl."
Nate wraps his arm around your waist, but before he can pull you away and get you upstairs and locked away inside his room with him, Cal speaks. "Going through 'em awful fast, aren't you, Nate? That's what, three girls now, in almost as many months?"
You feel nothing short of embarrassed, perhaps even a little ashamed, at his comment.
Nate's grip on your hip tightens painfully for a moment, and you're sure it'll leave a bruise, but you don't speak, instead just bearing witness to the now-taut silence enveloping the room.
Nate steps away from you, going over to the fridge.
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Nate grabs a beer, Cal going to grab himself another, until Nate speaks so low only he can hear. "Not nearly as fast as you, though, am I?"
"Excuse me?"
"You're such a fucking asshole. Leave me," he glances to you, then back to his dad, "And her alone. Stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours like we usually do."
With that, Nate comes over, firmly gripping your hand, and leading you upstairs.
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Once Nate has shut the door behind the two of you, locking it, he throws his duffle bag down, then grabs a pair of boxers and sweatpants from his dresser before going into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
You seat yourself on his bed, wondering what, exactly, had been said between he and his dad to make him so upset. Unless it was the comment about him going through girls? On the one hand, it was kind of a shitty thing to say. On the other, parents sometimes give their kids a hard time. It comes with the territory.
A few moments later, Nate emerges from the bathroom, shirtless, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and his hair damp and tousled.
You feel that same heat from earlier when he'd kissed you settling between your legs again. Then you tell yourself now is not the time—he's upset.
He walks over to his closet.
"Are you ok?" You ask softly.
He hands you a plain black t-shirt. "Here, you can wear this to bed after you've showered."
So he's not ready to talk about it just yet. "What about bottoms?"
He lies back on the bed, one of his arms slung over his eyes. "Nothing I have will fit you. The t-shirt is fine."
You accept that, padding into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.
When you emerge, it's in Nate's shirt, a fluffy towel wrapped around your wet hair.
He's still lying on the bed in the same position from earlier.
You rub the towel against your hair a few times, then drop it in his hamper before coming to sit with your legs crossed beside him. You're silent for a moment, trying to think of the right thing to say. Finally, you just make a simple offer.
"Do you want me to leave?"
He shakes his head, his other arm coming to rub up and down your spine. "No."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He lowers the arm from over his eyes, which are now open, staring up at the ceiling. "There's nothing to talk about. I told you: he's an asshole."
You shrug. "He's your dad. Picking on you is kind of part of his job."
"That's not why he said it. It's not why he does any of the shit that he does. It has nothing to do with him being my dad."
"Maybe he just-"
He looks at you then. "Can we just not talk about my dad while we're in bed together?"
You withdraw into yourself a little at his sudden irritation. And how he had worded it. Like you're doing something other than just talking.
"Ok, I'm sorry."
He notes that your tone now sounds slightly frightened. He sits up, leaning on his arm, his free hand coming to grip your waist. "No, I am. I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just him. It's always fucking him."
"Have the two of you ever considered sitting down and just having a heart-to-heart?"
He snorts, then looks at you like that's the stupidest idea anyone has ever come up with.
"Lie down with me," he says, pulling back the covers, which you then crawl beneath.
He pulls you against him, his arm under your neck, fingertips lightly tracing the tip of your shoulder. "Thank you for being here."
"You're welcome. I'm very proud of you tonight. It sounds like your mom is too."
He bends the arm that's not holding you behind his head.
"I'm glad you stayed."
"Of course I did," you say, resting your hand over his chest. "I thought I hated sports until tonight. I had a fun time watching you."
He looks at you. "Good."
He then slips his arm out from under you, your head falling back against a pillow which smells of cologne and him. He hovers over top of you, scooting you lower before he presses a kiss to your forehead.
You panic. "Nate..."
He looks down, but you grab his chin, which he doesn't expect.
"Don't look."
His brows furrow.
"The t-shirt sort of rode up."
He bites back a smirk. So you're half-naked underneath him, then.
He lowers his body onto your own. "There, now I can't see."
You remain staring up at him.
He plants a soft kiss to your cheek. "Is this ok?"
You're quiet for a moment. Longer than he'd like. Until, finally, "I guess so."
That's all the permission he needs before he starts kissing you. He teases you with his tongue again like earlier, since you had seemed to like that so much, before he eventually moves lower, pressing hot, wet kisses to your neck.
He moves from one side, and when he gets to the other, you jerk underneath him and whimper.
So he kisses that same spot again and your breathing quickens.
His cock fills with blood, knowing he's found a sweet spot.
And so he kisses and sucks at the sensitive skin, until your hips have risen up against him, your arms around his neck and you're panting. He flicks his tongue and you moan in the back of your throat, your control slipping more and more with each kiss. He doesn't stop until he's sure you're soaked and he sees that he's left a purple bruise in his wake.
When he looks down at you, your face is flushed, your lips slightly parted, your hair a mess. It'd be so fucking easy to have his way with you right now. But it would ruin everything to do it this soon.
"Did you like that?" he asks, smoothing some hair from your face.
You nod.
He wonders just how far you'll let him go tonight, short of him breaking your hymen with his cock.
He grips your hip in one of his hands, then moves it higher, to the curve of your side, then higher, until you reach down, firmly grabbing his wrist, his hand now underneath his t-shirt that's barely even covering you now.
"Do you want me to stop?"
"I-" you shut your mouth.
In truth, all you want is to touch yourself. Or maybe let him. No. You can't do that. Not this soon. God, what are you doing? In his bed, nearly naked—nothing covering your bottom half, which is now so wet your thighs are slick from it—and wanting nothing more than to tell him to keep going.
You've never felt like this before. But you've also never had any form of intimacy with another person before.
Only ever yourself.
He gives you a look of understanding. "I don't give a shit what society expects of you. What you think you're supposed to do. I want to know what you want, right now, in this moment."
Finally, after a beat of silence, you release his wrist.
He slowly pushes up the t-shirt higher, then higher, until he can see the bottom swell of your breasts, then he pulls it over your head, tossing it on the floor.
And he just marvels at you. Your naked body lying back against his dark sheets. He still has his lower half covering your own, but knows he'll get to see every inch of you before the night is through.
He leans down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and you throw your head back.
He grips your hips, trailing his tongue over to your other breast, now sucking on it. He looks up to you. Your eyes are now closed, head thrown back, mouth slightly parted.
He rolls a nipple between his teeth and your hips lift, which he pushes back down into the mattress.
He moves back to your other breast, doing the same, willing a whimper or a cry from your lips. Even his fucking name. Instead, you're so damn quiet. Maddy and Cassie had both been vocal—sometimes overly so. This he's not used to.
Finally, he lifts his head and your eyes pop open, wondering why he's stopped.
"Are you not enjoying it?"
Your brows furrow. "What?"
"You're not really making any noise. Are you this quiet when you touch yourself?"
You wait a moment, then nod. He just tells himself that he won't stop until he's changed that fact, then.
He dives back down, devouring your breasts again, then kissing between them, gradually moving lower and lower, until he's right below your belly button.
You suddenly sit half-up, leaning back on your forearms.
"Do you want me to stop?" He asks.
Your heart is pounding, and there's an incredibly strong pulse going between your thighs. A million thoughts race through your head. The most prominent one: is this why he'd given you attention in the first place? To make you another notch in his belt?
"This...this isn't all you wanted me for-"
"No. I want you. All of you. Being intimate with you is just one part of it. I don't plan on having sex with you tonight. When I take your virginity, I want it to be perfect. For your sake. There's just something I want to try."
He releases one of your hips, twining his fingers between yours for reassurance. While he understands your hesitancy, he wishes you'd lie the fuck back down and spread your legs for him.
Until, finally, you do.
He kisses down your stomach, then is pleased to see that you'd recently shaven your pubic area.
He makes a mental note to start setting you up appointments, which he'll be paying for, so you can get waxed regularly. At least he won't have to worry about stubble or ingrown hairs at that point.
When he's finally eye-level with your pussy, his throbbing erection grows impossibly harder. You truly are fucking perfect in every way.
He lowers his mouth onto you and, finally, you cry out at the unexpected feeling.
He quickly throws both of your legs over his shoulders, spearing his tongue, burying it in the heat between your thighs. He flicks your clit and your fingers tighten around his.
God, you're already so fucking wet. He blames it on your being a virgin—not that he doesn't absolutely fucking love it.
So he does it again. And again. He then swirls his tongue this way and that, sliding up your soaked folds—God, you taste fucking amazing—then back down again. Finally, he pulls back the least bit and he hears you whine in response as he begins to kiss your inner thighs.
At least he'll have this to use against you when the time comes: a bit of oral sex, leading you right up to the edge, and then denying you an orgasm unless you do what he wants will be a perfect weapon against you.
Finally, after wiggling your hips more than once, clearly wanting his mouth back on your pussy, he gives you what you've silently asked him for.
He kisses, licks, sucks, bites—lightly—until he focuses solely on your clit.
He hopes you scream when you fucking cum just so his dad has to hear it.
Instead, that fantasy is broken when you release his hand, pulling one of his pillows over your face as you finish against his mouth, your hips lifting, which he once again pulls back down as he continues eating you out.
He only hears your muffled cries—he can swear he hears you say his name—until you finally drop the pillow on the floor, trying to catch your breath as he presses a few kisses to your now-pulsating pussy.
He rests his chin against your pubic area, watching as you slowly begin to calm, your legs still over his shoulders.
"How was that?"
You feel dazed, your legs like jelly, even a bit sweaty. "Good."
He raises a brow. "Just good?"
You tangle your fingers in your hair, the pulse of your pussy just now beginning to calm. "Really, really good."
"You liked it that much, huh?"
You nod.
"How much?"
You sit up, your muscles now feeling weak. "I loved it, Nate. T-thank you."
He studies you for a moment, considering. "Do you want me to do it again?"
"Really?"
He notes just how eager and excited you sound. Almost desperate for it—for him.
And in that moment, he knows he finally has you exactly where he fucking wants you.
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toxicanonymity · 10 months
Text
Jailbird.
1.5k / Cellmate’s nephew!Joel x inmate f!reader
thank you @iamasaddie for the mood board!!!
PART 2 HERE: Collect calls
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Summary: Your cellmate introduces you to her hot nephew and he comes to visitation hours. A/N: Part 1 of 3. This one is due to @beskarandblasters and @wannab-urs and their hilarious list of new joel tropes and @raccoonhandedhottie's nerve to put the idea of doing one in my head. My masterlist WARNINGS: References to sex work, ACAB. Horny phone/visitation talk, mild/non-explicit over-pants masturbation. Mickey Avalon Easter egg.
Without Mabel, you're not sure how you would've survived your first six months in lock-up. You were cuffed for solicitation when a dirty cop wouldn't pay what he owed.  He says he took it easy on you -- you also clawed him and spit in his face.  As soon as you told your new cellmate what really happened, she took a liking to you. She said you should've bitten him in the pecker.   Mabel had been there, done that. She even knew of the cop who put you away.  It wasn't Mabel's first time behind bars. She had the ink and reputation to prove it. Her knuckles said "TAKE NONE" and that was accurate.  By now, nobody gave her any shit. Soon enough, no one gave you any either. 
Mabel had a few photographs on her wall, mostly of her and a younger man. Not a particularly young man, but certainly younger than Mabel. He was probably in his early forties in the pictures, which were five years prior, before she violated her parole. She was giving you a poke and stick tat of a four leaf clover on your hand one day when you asked about the pictures. 
"I was wonderin' when ya were gonna ask about my lil Jojo. I've seen ya lookin' at him, ya little horndog..." 
She let you stammer around in response. "No, I, I'm just, making conversation, wanna get to know you better." 
"It's okay, baby. He's my nephew. All I got left. He's a neat kid."
"He looks happy to be with you–ouch!"
"Don't be a pussy. Oh, he's a real sweet boy. Bet he'd like you, too."
"What makes you say that?"
She looked up from your hand "cause ya got a cunt and you're not bad lookin'," she laughed. "Hey,” she raised her eyebrows. “You ever wanna borrow one of those pics, you let me know, I'll give ya some privacy."
"No thanks."
"Oh, come on. You can fold it so ya don't have to see my pretty face." 
You laughed. 
"Bet he'd dick ya down real good, too."
"What?" You asked, quietly disturbed. 
"He lives with me. Walls are thin." 
"Ah. That must be awkward."
"Not really! We're all human. I could even tell ya the kinda shit he says if ya want. He can get real filthy.  Or shit, I could just give ya his number."
"That's ok."
"Baby, he'd love to hear from ya. Trust me. I've told him all about ya." She put down the needle and picked up a tissue to dab your skin. 
"You have??"
"Oh yeah. Here, I'm gonna write it down." 
She took one of the photos off the wall and wrote his number on the back. Then she folded it in half and winked at you as she handed it to you. 
—----------------
It only took a week of her nagging for you to call “Jojo.” 
Your breath hitched when you heard his smooth, deep voice. The first thing he said was, “Ah, call me Joel,” and you could hear the smile on his face. 
“Oh god, I’m sorry,” you laughed. “Well your aunt’s told me a lot about you, Joel.” 
“Yeah, I can only imagine what,” he faux grumbled. “Real character, ain’t she?”
“I love Mabel,” you blurted out. 
You found yourself opening up about how in some ways, she was more of a mother figure than you ever had.  Joel was easy to talk to. It just came pouring out. You told him about Mabel’s antics and the mischief the two of you got up to. Things you’d steal from the cafeteria. The way Mabel kept the ladies in line who tried to dom you. Next thing you knew, your time was up.  You apologized profusely for talking Joel’s ear off about yourself. 
“Nahhhh, it was nice,” Joel said. “Hell of a lot more interesting than my life.”
“Well it was good talking to you,” you told him. 
He said, “Hey, call me back any time.”
There was nothing sexy at all about that first conversation, but his voice did something to you.  You squeezed your thighs together when you got back to your cell and looked at the photo. Mabel kept giving you a knowing look. 
—------
You started calling Joel regularly.  Mabel told you he liked you a lot, but you weren’t sure if you should believe her. She seemed overly eager to set him up. The conversations were brief and casual. When you didn’t call him one week, the next time you spoke, he told you he missed the sound of your voice. 
Something came over you and you broke the tension. “My voice?” you asked. “Joel, your voice. . . you dunno what it does to me,” you blurted out. Zero to sixty, just like that. 
“Well damn,” Joel said. “Shoulda said somethin’. Coulda given ya better than stories about Mabel.” 
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Like whatever ya want, jailbird.” Your heart fluttered “Whatever gets ya hot and bothered.” 
“Honey, you could read me the phone book,” you told him. 
He chuckled. “Haven’t seen one of those in a few years.”  His voice was sexy to begin with but the sharp edge of the phone connection made it even hotter. 
After a moment of tense silence, he said, “Hey, uh, you notice any of your pictures missin’?”
“Huh?”
“Yeah, Mabel mailed me one. Didn’t tell me you were a fuckin’ smokeshow.”
You laughed bashfully. 
“Well she did. But I had to see it for myself, and shit”
“Well, thanks. You’re not bad looking yourself.” 
Your time was almost up. 
“Hey I’m comin’ to see Mabel later this week. Y’all got the same visitor’s night or what? Cause I’d love to see you, too, if it’s allowed.” 
“Nah, mine’s the next night.” 
“S’alright, i’ll come back for ya, sugar.” Your heart skipped a beat. 
“I’ve gotta go.”
“I know. Be good, jailbird.” 
—--------
It was visitation day and you were getting nervous. Mabel thought it was adorable. She helped you get ready. Did your hair nice. “He’s already smitten with ya, baby,” she said. 
You were escorted into the visitation room and sat at one of the booths, separated by glass, with a phone on each side. 
When Joel came in, you didn’t recognize him at first.  In just those five years, his beard had turned half-silver.  He was striking in person.  He was wearing a tight t-shirt and jeans. Tight jeans. You couldn’t help but size up the bulge in them. 
When you looked up at his face, he was raising his eyebrows at you like he caught you looking.  He sat down and put his elbows on the table. You picked up the phone, a little nervous, but more excited than anything.  He checked you out and smiled at you coyly before picking up the phone. 
“Like what ya see?” he said softly into the phone. 
You replied with a low whistle, then asked, “You always dress like a piece of meat?” He had a few hand tattoos of his own. Faded, blurred together. A spade between his thumb and forefinger. A spiderweb curving around one of his biceps. He’d probably done his own time. 
“When the hell are ya gettin’ outta here?”
“Up for parole next month,” you said. 
“No shit!” He looked genuinely excited. 
“Mabel didn’t tell you?”
“Thought she was yankin’ my chain.” He stretched his free hand behind his head and you watched his bicep.  “You been good? Think you’ll get out?” 
“Haven’t been bad.” 
“Good.” He lowered his voice. “‘Cause sugar, I’m gonna need to see what’s under that garb.”
You smiled with faux shyness, and he continued, “God damn,” looking at you like a juicy leg of lamb. 
You stared at each other, checking each other out for a moment. You watched his pupils dilate as your chest rose and fell with desire. 
You made small talk for a minute or two, all the while fucking each other with your eyes. But, things took a turn again.
“What do you miss the most?” he asked in a low, sultry voice. “Bet ya don’t miss the clients.” 
You shook your head. 
He lowered his voice further. “When’s the last time ya had a nice hard cock ya really wanted?”
Your eyes widened. “Shit, I dunno.” 
“Ohhh you’re in for it.” You looked around, paranoid, in disbelief that you could get away with a conversation like this. “Ain’t nothin’ harder than mine, baby.” He reached his hand into his lap. “Fuck. ‘specially for you.” You could see his arm moving very slowly but there was no mistaking what he was doing.  His eyes devoured you.
“Joel,” you sighed. “Fuck, I believe it.” 
And just like that, a guard approached him from behind. “Time’s up,” the guard said and glared at you.  You rolled your eyes as a guard approached you, too.
Joel said “Later, jailbird” and hung up the phone.  When he stood up, his massive erection was visible and made your heart skip a beat.  You glanced up to his face and he was wetting his lips. He winked at you with pink cheeks and your eyes immediately fell back to his crotch as he adjusted himself and the guard hurried him away. 
FUCK. You were gushing. Mabel’s Jojo. Joel. What a man.
---------
Part 2
Ty for reading. strip club manager!Joel will be an alternate timeline of this Joel set in the past while Mabel was on parole. DIFFERENT READER. preview
this trope actually gave me so many more elaborate ideas lmao.
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All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret
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