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#I gotta make ‘em hang out now
mfdragon · 5 months
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I just realized that your AU Blitzwing and Issac Sumdac became fathers in the exact same way. Touching weird alien tech that spawned a child based in part off of you.
Oh FUCK
OH THATS WHERE MY BRAIN PULLED THAT FROM!!!! Oh shit OH FUCK YOURE SO RIGHT!!
so then when Blitzwing goes to Sumdac and describes to him what happened and asks him questions about being a dad Sumdac is SWEATING HIS BALLS OFF OH MY GOWD!!!
(Oh no that means he RREEEAAALLY feels for Blitzwing. Oh no, attachment?? New dad just dropped and Sumdac needs to make sure he becomes a good dad for the kids sake??)
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smth smth about 'the thing that the character did that you thought was rly rly funny in the moment is actually linked to a terrible trauma that lies within said character.' or wahtever.
#jrwi show#jrwi fanart#jrwi riptide#gillion tidestrider#made this within a short span of wahtever bc i gotta go up to the mountains for my stupid gay job tonight n im trying#nnot to frrRREAAAK THE FUCK OUUTTTTTTi dont wanna work but. get that bread we fuckin shall i guess#ONWARDS TO THE FISH TORMENT!! sometimes flowers feel pain when you trim them before their blossoming. atleast i imagine so#i used to draw gillion with loooong hair tied into a big ol braid. and then it was confirmed that he had short hair when he was little.#AT FIRST I WAS SAD. but then i realized the duality of. when they were little. gill had short hair. edyn had long hair.#AND NOW THEYRE OLDER. and gillion has long hair. and edyn has short hair#both mirroring eachother. looking up to eachother. subconsciously or not. they most certainly care. and most certainly miss eachother.#GILLION ALWAYS LOVED HOW LONG HAIR LOOKs. atleast i imagine so. he hasnt cut it since he left the undersea. sure he wanted to go back home#but even at the very start. he knew he was free in some way now. free to grow out his hair. an adventure would await him before he returns.#he knew it would be a while. so he cant let this go. he cant let this sought-after hair-length get cut away from him again#not yet. not yet. i like to think he loved music too. I SAW SOMETHING INTERESTING A BIT AGO#i see alot of ppl commenting on my baby gill comics like;'i wouldFIGHT this teacher i wanna KILL EM i want them DESTROYED#all very good and nice sentiments! i LOVE the energy here! and it would be nice. to have that catharsis#but the story of young tidestrider is not a story of catharsis. it is a story of agony and being so so small and so special and also so dum#and sucking so bad. and just being a kid and doing the things that a little kid does and so many tired tired people reacting badly to it#youre supposed to be the hero that will save us. our world hangs in the balance and you are the one who tips the scales.#YOU are supposed to SAVE US!! you NEED to SAVE US! CAN YOU PLEASE STOP SQUIRMING IN YOUR STUPID CHAIR!!#you'd think that young tidestrider ought to prevail. and be tucked someplace all safe and sound.#elders gone missing and rotting in a jail. their cultists nowhere around. but theres no happy endings. not here not now.#this tale is all sorrows n woes. you may dream that justice n peace win the day. but thats not how this story goes#BIG ideas for this lil baby gillion series. if anything i make ever gets disproven im killing myself in a well as to poison a water supply
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sillysowa · 8 months
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RUNWAY MODEL
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PAIRING: hobie brown x fem!reader
GENRE: suggestive, smut
WORD COUNT: 2.9k
WARNINGS: smut, vaginal fingering, choking (fem! and male receiving), vaginal sex, both hobie and reader are switches
AUTHORS NOTE: not proofread cause i’m so tired i can feel my eyes melting
SYNOPSIS: in which hobie brown is a model, and you are his favorite designer
Hobie walked into your studio nonchalantly with no apparent purpose, like usual. The day had been long and he was tired of bending around for the photographers, wanting to visit his favorite designer. He sat his tall figure in the chair across from you, kicking his legs up on the desk because he knows it doesn’t bother you,
“Oh, Hobie…you’re still here?” You mumbled drowsily, exhaustion present in your hoarse voice. It’s late and you probably shouldn’t still be here at the studio, but you’re so caught up in your work. Hobie leans forward slightly, catching glimpse at the scribble artistic designs that he can tell after for him,
“Mhm,” Hobie hums, “You never tire of this work do you?” He chuckles, leaning back and tossing around a pen of yours, “Y’alright? Must be tired.” He asks in that deep voice of his,
You sigh, “Of course…just…gotta get this right.” You scribble around on the paper,
Hobie’s interest is piqued at this and he eyes the sketch pad, “You know I’ll wear whatever you come up with.” He leans back in the chair, still studying the work in progress, “Don’t have to do such hard work f’me.”
“I know…that’s what makes it so complex…I mean there’s so many different things I can see you in! Like…this maybe?” You ramble, flipping around your sketch pad to show him the punk rock outfit you had crafted for him. It’s skimpy to say the least, exposing his abs, most of his legs, and the pants hang low, exposing that pretty V-line of his that you’ve seen with watchful eyes as he gets his pictures taken for especially seductive shoots.
Hobie studies the artworks with squinty eyes, a smirk spreading across his face,
“I like that one…” He smiles knowingly, bringing his feet off the desk to support his head in his hands with his elbows on his knees. He glances up at the design again, and then back at you,
“You always do these designs f’me, hm? Am I your favorite model?” He teases, smirking a little like he knows a secret.
You smile and lean back, chewing the inside of your cheek for a moment in contemplation, “I mean you’re honestly probably my favorite out of all the models I’ve worked with.“ You say bluntly, wanting to only slightly allude to how deep your desire for Hobie is. Clearly, it’s written all over your face. You notice his stare as he obviously tries not to smile,
“Wanna expand on that? You look a little…flustered.” His voice drops low, his flickering down to your lips and even lower for a moment.
“I’m not. You’re a stunning model, Hobie.” You smile, continuing your work. Your face is burning hot and you can’t look at him because all you’re thinking about is how how badly you want him to bend you over the table with his long fingers around your neck. He suddenly changes the topic,
“D’you think I could do a gig solely on m’hands?” He asks like he knows the answer, “I think you’re someone who can appreciate their beauty, hm? With your drawings n’all?” He smirks teasingly and you feel your heart drop into your stomach,
“What?”
“Well you’ve drawn my hands about a hundred times…I’ve seen it. Can’t even keep your eye off of em when we talk.” He replies, leaning in and shortening the distance between the two of you between the table. Clearly, he had been through your sketchbook—your stomach churned at the thought,
“And how would you know that?” You whisper, flustered at the idea of of being caught in a sense but so fucking up for this challenge that he’s offering—there’s nothing to be ashamed of now that he obviously knows you have a severe hand kink. He keeps smiling at you as if he was entertained by all this,
“Doesn’t matter. What does the bough is that you must take a hefty liking to my fingers, right?” He says, flexing them again across the table, stretched out to their full length. You don’t even give in to your desire, eyes locked on the way his middle and ring finger press together suggestively a d make your face feel hot.
You bite your lip, tearing your eyes away as you flip the pages on your sketchbook to change the subject,
“A-Anyways, I’ve also got this design you could try…”
Hobie just smiles and leans back, deciding to let it go for now and toy with you later. He looks at the papers for a while before he speaks up,
“You’ve done a great job.” Hobie says in awe, gesturing to the designs with a nod of his head and that signiature sly smile, “I like ‘em.” Hobie’s tone switches to his playful-work-voice of his now, and he reaches his hands out, gripping the edge of the desk as he stands,
“So, Y/N,” Hobie starts looking down on you. “Got any of these ready for me to try on?” He asks, leaning down to your eye level.
You squirm a little in your seat, your thighs clenching together. He always gets you so riled up you’ve never had this kind of one on one time together. You often just catch glimpse of him during his shoots,
“Yeah…I actually have one of them here if you really want to try it out early,” You say excitedly, walking to the clothing rack and plucking it off. Its gorgeous, grungy, and incredibly revealing. The other designers love to see Hobie in multiple layers and a lot of baggy clothing, but when you got lucky enough to catch the photographers bending Hobie around in nothing but tight boxers for his Calvin Klein shoot—you nearly died, “It’s a little skimpy.”
“Oh yeah? Just f’me?” Hobie chuckles, walking up behind you in the dimly lit room and brushing his hand onto of yours to grab the clothing hanger. He looks at you with his head over your shoulder, awfully close,
“If you wanted to see me naked could’ve just asked” Hobie teases, whispering in your ear before turning away from you. To your utmost horror and delight, he starts stripping right then and there,
“Oh my god you slut, right infront of me?” You gasp, turning around letting out a quick laugh in disbelief. Your face feels hot after catching the sight of his jeans catching on his dick as he pulled them down, looking at you out of the corner of his eye,
A snicker comes from Hobie as he gets undressed in a fashion comparable to a strip-tease,
“Oh come on doll, it’s not like you haven’t seen me at work with even less on. I don’t mind you watching.” He pry’s, his voice taunting and inviting like a sweet honey. You think of your job. You think about how you thought you were alone only 10 minutes ago before Hobie strolled in. It’s beyond after hours, and it’s just the two of you—quite literally a recipe for disaster. Hobie finished getting dressed, standing up straight in the designer outfit,
“Alright, alright, it’s safe you prude. Come get a look at your creation.” Hobie holds his arms out, flipping them and getting a look at it all himself before smiling at you. You turn and look at him and instantly your eyes as they widen,
“Oh…my…god…” You gasp, “You look so good!” Excitement covers your to face as you walk up to him, inspecting how everything fits. You marvel in the way his toned chest looks on display and his nipple piercings under the sheer top. The studded jewelry and leather accessories add so much to the look but most of all…his hands in those fingerless gloves are to die for. You inspect them closely, pulling them towards you as you dreamily stare at his long fingers, toying with them in your hands,
Hobie smiles in the silence of your admiration, “Y’know it’s kinda funny...” He murmurs. His left hand gently holds onto yours, lacing your fingers with his. His other hand grazes your side,
You freeze and look up at him—instantly, your stomach drops at his gaze, “What’s funny?”
“You clearly got a hand kink or something…or is it just mine, hm? Got a thing for me, miss designer?” He teases, gently pulling you close with his knee in between your legs. Your heart beats in your chest like a drum and your toes curl in your shoes. You lick your lips, melting at the proximity,
“Well it looks like you’ve got me all figured out huh?” You whisper as your skin warms under his touch, his hands feeling like fire on your skin. You shouldn’t be doing this…but it feels too good to stop,
“Yeah?” He pulls you up in an embrace, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with his hot breath on your sensitive skin. His left hand grips your hair as he whispers into your ear,
“Say it.” Hobie enunciates every syllable, his lips hovering over the sensitive skin of your ear. You press your body against him and all logical reasoning leaves your mind,
“I want you.” You groan into his ear, balling your fists around his mesh shirt. Hobie grins, and his voice is low and husky when he whispers,
“I know you do. I want you too, dollface.” He wraps his arm around you fully, one hand still in your hair, and the other around your back. He stares straight ahead, his knee edging further up between your legs as he whispers,
“Let me show you…” He whispers into your ear, biting it gently and leaning down to kiss your neck. Your mind melts and you nearly collapse against him—it’s an all numbing feeling to have model lips like Hobie’s on your neck and his tall stature holding you so close,
You moan softly and dig your fingers into his clothes at the feeling, his lips on your neck make you feel so good inside. His large thigh slides up and now your skirt is pushing and your warm pussy is on his thigh. It’s lewd and oh so embarrassing until he groans, his voice all needy and horny, right in your ear,
“Oh, fuck…you’re already so wet? I’ve barely touched you, love.” He coo’s clicking his tongue, slipping his hands under the back of your shirt and undoing your bra in a swift, skilled motion. He toys with the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head. After getting you topless, his hands are palming your breasts wasting absolutely no time. You throw your head back and shamelessly whine at the feeling—the feeling being indescribable desire,
“God I just knew those—ah! Mmm-knew those hands would feel so good.” Your breath hitches in your throat as you mewl, his fingers pinching your nipples while you’re mid sentence. He laughs darkly at you, leaning down and taking one of your nipples into his mouth, squirming his tongue around the small bud,
“Mmm…” He hums around your skin, his eyes rolling into the back of his head for your viewing pleasure—and oh does it do things to you. Your desperate moans echo in the empty studio, the low lighting reflecting off of Hobie’s dark eyes driving you crazy,
One of his hands grabs your chin, and he stands up straight again, lifting your face up so that he could look into your eyes, “Keep making those pretty noises, gorgeous…” He murmurs, his eyes on yours flickering down to your lips.
You so badly want to kiss him that you can’t even wait for him, pulling him the collar of his shirt and meshing your lips against his in a matter of seconds, capturing his lips in a moral-melting kiss. You knew if anyone saw you two—colleagues—grinding and kissing in the studio late at night, you’d both lose your jobs on the spot; but there was no stopping now. His lips were like magic on yours. You felt your heart rate pickup the moment his hands met your thighs and he picked you up, walking you to the desk and never once breaking away from the desperate needy kiss you were sharing. When it starts to get to your head and you feel a need for air, you break away from the kiss, panting and looking into his lust blown eyes,
“Fuck me on that desk…right now.”
Hobie is shocked for a quick moment before a grin spreads across his face. He wastes no time in laying you onto the desk and kissing his way down your stomach, his fingers toying with the top of your skirt,
“What do you say I put these long fingers of mine to use, hm?” Hobie’s whispers, his voice raspy and sending need straight to your aching pussy.
“You better…” You thrust your hips up as he removes your skirt, his fingers grazing your thighs before he spits onto them, shoving two right into your tight pussy,
“Not so sure i’m the model anymore—fucking look at you…” Hobie groans, kissing your thighs as he slowly thrusts his fingers into you. His pace is agonizing, and you grab him by his wrist,
“Please…just shut up and fuck me…I’ve seen how big it is and I can’t wait any longer…” You grunt and Hobie’s eyes widen more than you’ve ever seen. It’s his turn to look flustered and the feeling of being spoken to in such a dirty manner is enough to make his dick twitch in his pants,
“How can I deny such an offer?” He laughs breathlessly, standing up and unbuckling his spikey belt, pulling everything down and letting his cock spring free. It’s long, and thick, and there’s precum leaking from his tip like the glaze on your favorite dessert. He feels his face heat up at your hungry stare, leaning down and cupping his hands in the bend of your legs, pushing them down at your sides and spreading your legs wide open for him,
“Please—“
“Yeah I know…” Hobie groans, smearing his pre-cum across your pussy and gently thrusting into you. It takes your breath away and shakes the desk, your mouth hanging open as a guttural moan tumbles out of your mouth,
Hobie groans and kisses your neck, “You’re so fucking tight.” Hobie whispers, his voice shaking. He groans and slams his hips into yours, his hands gripping your hips as he desperately fucks into you. Never in your entire life had you felt something so big inside of you—so filling and so fucking good. Of course a model as gorgeous as Hobie has such a perfect dick—but this position isn’t doing it for you.
You sit up, your hands on his chest as you push him down onto the desk and crawl on top. Hobie looks pleasantly surprised at this, his hands coming up to your hips,
“Fuck…” He whines, his head thrown back and his adams apple bobbing in his neck. You sink down on his length, grunting so loud you’d think it’s injuring you as your hand comes to Hobie’s neck. You give him a gentle squeeze and he nods at you, his eyelashes fluttering as he slaps your ass,
“C’mon.”
You ride him like your life depends on it, your hands tight around his neck and his clothes. The studio echoes with both of your moans and you feel your head spinning as his cock melts your insides, the sensation eliciting desperate moans out of you.
Hobie feels lightheaded and delirious with your hand around his neck and your pussy squeezing him so good, broken moans, grunts, and whimpers leaving his lips. The messy sounds fill the dark room and you can barely hold on any longer,
“Give it to me—please…”
You squeeze his neck just right and his hand comes up to yours as you ride him, your pussy clenching and your orgasm nearing. Now both of you are gripping each others necks, grunting and panting and falling apart so beautifully,
“I’m gonna—“ Hobie starts but he doesn’t finish…well he does. He cums deep inside you as you continue to ride him through it all, making a sloppy mess and coating his dick and thighs in cum. His head falls back against the hard wood and you ride his soul out until you cum. When you do, you’re shaking and moaning loudly, your hands moving from his neck to his shoulders to support yourself as you nearly pass out, pulling too hard on the mesh shirt and tearing it down his chest,
Hobie’s breathing is slow yet heavy as he tries to get a grip on reality now. His hands are still holding your hips and his brain still feels like jell-o, but he’s slowly coming to his senses,
“Y’look so good fucked out like this.” He mumbles, smoothing his thumbs over your bare skin,
“You think I’m the one who’s fucked out?” You giggle as you look Hobie over. His makeup is smudged, his clothes torn, and his eyebrows are as furrowed as they were when he came. He looks perfect, because how could he look anything but? He’s a model…and he’s your art no matter what,
“Wait stay right there…” You smile, walking behind him to your desk drawers and getting your camera, coming back around to his front. Hobie rolls his eyes and laughs incredulously at you, holding his pose with his elbows behind him, his lips parted and his eyebrows pinched, and his cock on full display still pumping its cum. You snap the picture and instantly swear to yourself that this would not be the last time you fuck Hobie.
@ohxx @luxxtuxx @fatenpara @hobesbf @defnot-bri
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bunni-v1 · 6 months
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hii,
Can i request che‘nya, neige and rollo finding out you‘re a girl please?
(Just if u weite for em)
Freaking love ur serie 😍
Side Characters Find Out You’re A Girl?!?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)
TW: Rollo
Info: Che’nya, Niege, and Rollo x Reader
🍓Thank you! I'm glad people enjoyed this series so much, it was very fun to write. This is the last part I'm afraid, but I hope it is a fitting goodbye to what has been a very long-running series now lol. Excited to move on to other things!
Tags: @kitsun369 @bloomstruck @squidsailing
Che’nya
-Oooooo, Che’nya knows something is up the moment he (creepily) stalks you and the others from the garden.
-His sniffer isn’t as good as Leona’s — he’s just a tomcat, after all — but he can smell that something about you isn’t right.
-Plus, he’s a master of bending the truth, he can see through your lie a mile away.
-Still, he has no reason to bother you about it — he doesn’t even know you. 
-He just thinks you’re a little funny that you’d hide something as pointless as this.
-Doesn’t really have confirmation on it until he asks Cater at the tea party.
-Then he later asks Trey who is like ‘Yeahhhhh…’
-Again, he doesn’t really know you, but he does think you’re cute and stuff.
-He sees your around when he sneaks on campus, and he was happy to bump into you at the VDC.
-(He scored your number there, lets go Che’nya).
-Nah, you two don’t really get to interact until Noble Bell College.
-He’s excited to see you again, and really chats you up this time (everyone there thinks its weird, he literally has no reason to talk to you).
-You’re alone with him and Niege and Grim when he drops the bombshell of “A pretty girl like you should be wearing a dress, right?”
-You don’t know if Trey or Cater or even Riddle told him, but you were gonna deck them across the face the second you found out.
-Still, despite him outing you to Niege, he’s really only mildly annoying about it.
-He teases you and picks on you about it, but he’s more like an annoying older brother than a creep.
-He will hang it over your head though, because they way you get all huffy is funny and cute to him.
Neige
-Other than Che’nya— Neige really doesn’t suspect much.
-I mean, look at him and Vil. Feminine men is not his biggest concern.
-He respects you and your pronouns and he’s a real big sweetheart.
-He is… drawn to you, just a little. 
-You’re different from the other students, and you managed to make friend with Vil, so excuse him for being a little curious.
-Despie Vil being vehemently against it, you and him exchange numbers and start talking casually.
-It’s pretty normal stuff, and it’s not like you’re talking every day, but you consider each other friends at the very least.
-You’re both very excited to see each other again at Nobel Bell College.
-Neige feels bad that you’re sort of forced to go and babysit, but he gets to see you again!
-You bump into him and Che’nya at the fesitval, and Neige is… notably weirded out by Che’nya’s overt friendliness with you.
-“He’s never this nice with people he doesn’t know — never. It’s so weird.” He tells you.
-You brush off his concerns, and you live to pay for it too.
-You and Neige were just chilling, talking, and hanging out for the first time in person and Che’nya walked over and joined the conversation.
-All is good until he drops the one-liner of a century, leaving both you and Neige in shock.
-You because how did he find out, Neige because oh my god you’re a woman.
-He feels even WORSE for you now.
-I mean, being the only woman at NRC has gotta be awful.
-He doesn’t make a big deal out of it, bless his soul.
-He just shrugs it off and also offers his room as sanctuary on the weekends if you need it. 
-He does agree with Che’nya, though, you would look very pretty in a nice flowing ballgown!
Rollo
-Bless this little freaks soul. He is about as sheltered as Malleus and about ten times more evil.
-He, somehow, knows something about you is different from the get-go. Not just your inability for magic, no something more.
-Naturally, he is drawn to you, and evermore curious about you and your life at NRC.
-He, being observant, takes note that you are treated slightly differently by your fellow classmates.
-They are generally more respectful and courteous toward you — gentlemanly in some cases.
-It only makes his interest in you grow. What is it that is so special about you? 
-Then he overhears a conversation with Niege and Che’nya, and it all makes so much sense!
-You are a woman, of course you are. No wonder you were so captivating.
-Rollo holds this card close to his chest — he needs not reveal his secrets.
-Malleus is fond of you — as are the other magicians here. That could be useful.
-This information could aid him in his ultimate plan — and he could be your savior from the beasts you live amongst. 
-He reveals that he knows your gender in front of everyone at the festival, and takes you captive as his own.
-He is so diluted in thinking that he is your saving grace, and that what he is doing is so right and justified that he can’t hear you curing him out over his own thoughts.
-Obviously, you get saved by your friends and all is well, but now a whole lot of people who shouldn’t know you are a woman do, and Crowley has to do a LOT of PR work lol.
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faeflowerz · 1 year
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Savanaclaw Imprinting on You
I have nothing cheeky to say. Let's do this.
Warnings: My gross misunderstanding of animals, Bullying Leona for being a big chonk
Characters: Ruggie, Jack, Leona
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Ruggie imprinting on you is an "oh shit" moment for him. He lives his life so casually and when he sees you, like really sees you for the first time, he's acting unwise. Ruggie will do things for you that he wouldn't for anyone else. He doesn't ask for you to return the favor. He even shares his food.
Now this last one is particularly special for him given that he values food more than his peers. Food is how he communicates and finds pleasure. I won't get too far into the feederism side, but I think there'd be a lot of "You should eat. Have you had breakfast?"
But it's not all picnics and dandelions. Hyenas are pretty scary if you piss em off. So if one of your guy friends touches you the wrong way or tries to tease him about his sudden obsession with you, he will go on the offense. Lots of growling and hes ready to turn them into a hashtag. You gotta drag him away every single time.
"Dude, you can't just go around picking fights with everyone! What's your damage, Ruggie?"
"I wouldn’t be so mad if those assholes kept their hands off of you!"
"That's what this is about? They mess around all the time, it's not a big deal."
"It is to me! I don't like it!"
"Okay, but why though? Why would you give a fuck?" You shake your head, frustrated by the look he was giving you.
"Because I'm jealous!" He barks. "I don't want anyone else touching you but me!" Everything is quiet as you try to process what he just said.
"Ruggie...what-"
"I like...being around you all the time. And all I can think about is you. And...ugh...this is so stupid." His cheeks are cute and pink as he mumbles his way though his confession. And you, you're smiling. Seeing him get so real with you is so sweet and touching. As he's trying to justify his behavior, you place a sweet kiss on his nose. Then he's all shishishi cause he got kissed.
When Jack imprints on you, he's pretty tsundere about it. Suddenly he's hanging around you and by extension the other first years. Its not like he loves you and how you smell and the way you laugh at your dumbass friends. He just...needs to be within five feet of you at all times. Oh, and that tail? It's wagging every single time you acknowledge him or give him attention. The most antisocial boy is suddenly craving your affection.
And of course Ace is gonna clown him for it. Though it feels a little bit different. "Is there somethin you're not telling us? No fair that you two have A Thing going on the down low."
"What are you even talking about?" Jack crosses his arms, clearly trying to keep cool.
"Come on, dude. You lit up when Prefect sat next to you," Ace pouts at the both of you before calling you out too. "Are you together?!"
"Wh-what?! What would make you think that?!"
And all of your friends have examples. Waay too many. And then, Ortho says, "You know, imprinting can happen to beast men too. There's a chance that-"
"What happens between me and Prefect is our business. I didn’t ask any of you to help me confess either."
Major self report. His tail is going a trillion per hour and he realizes what he just said. "Damn it."
"Ha! I knew it!" Ace chortles.
"Wow...that was pretty bold, Jack," Epel hides his grin behind his hand. As for you...
Well, you're smiling like an idiot. It's not like you haven't been purposefully saying and doing things to see his tail wag, make his ears flicker and see him smile a little. You can't pretend to be shocked as you look at Jack for a response. "Well, I guess I should have been honest from the start..."
So there you are, resigned to be a pillow for the biggest cat you've had the misfortune of knowing. Leona loves your thighs and like hell he's going to pass up on your free period to get some sleep. You've accepted your fate, but your legs are just as comatose as he is. As you try to shift around, this catman actually whines in protest. Inside, he's praying you didn't hear it. "Stop moving," he manages to say.
So, Leona's imprinted on you. Now what? Well, you're gonna know quite quickly. Like, it's kind of not a secret since Leona is so shameless with everything he does. Though, he won't actually say "I've imprinted on you." His actions are all the confirmation you need. Actually, he's the most overbearing because he will just drag you away from whatever you're doing just to take a nap with him. Are you in the greenhouse for a class? Well, too fucking bad. Leona wants you to give him attention. You know. Like a cat.
"M'leg's asleep," you complain. "Plus you're heavy."
"Neither of these are my problem."
"You're literally responsible for both."
"You callin me fat?"
"...maybe I am," Leona opens one eye to glare up at you. He wants to be mad. But seeing you so pleased by his reaction makes him melt a little. "What? All you do is eat and sleep what else am I supposed to think?" To your surprise, he sits up. You're about to ask but he flops on top of you, sending you both into the soft patch of grass. Leona's spooning you and your face is buried in his fat (and kind of fuzzy) tits. "Seriously?!"
"Look, you're just going to have to deal with the fact that you're one of the few people I can tolerate."
He's a real piece of work, isn't he? Still, his body is kind of warm and cuddly, huh? He would probably get mad if you said that out loud though.
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healmyhrt · 2 months
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I have an idea. So there is a cowboy hat rule. And it basically works like this : when the cowboy gives a girl his hat he like "chooses her" and when she gives him his hat back (she have to return the hat to his HOME) they usually fuck or smth. So my idea is that the y/n gives Chris the hat on tik tok, live or yt vid and chris is confused and doesn't know what that means but fans freaks out and he finally learn what that means and return the hat. Or something like this idk
⌗ like the cowgirl you are, c. sturniolo
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chris x fem!reader
summary: chris had given you his hat back in the summertime, now it was finally time for you to return it at your university’s halloween party. except for the fact that you and chris had broken up since the school year started. but cowboy hats do have rules, don’t they?
disclaimers!: smut, kissing, angst, oral sex (fem!receiving), good girl/boy kink, cursing, use of y/n
a/n: i changed up the request a little bit bc it kinda confused me idk 😭 hope the submitter enjoys this though! | also i had to make up her friends name but “eden” is not a special character to the story guys
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it was october 31st, and it was my university’s annual halloween costume party. and also the day that the cowboy hat rule comes to an end.
there’s this tradition to get the freshman at my college to fuck their first year. the boy gives a girl their cowboy hat anytime after summer starts, and they have until the halloween party to have sex. after the halloween party, you’ve lost your free fuck.
chris and i had been dating since sophomore year, and we attended the same school this year too. he had given me his cowboy hat during summertime, but we broke up right after school started.
and i guess today is the last day that the cowboy hat rule is valid. i didn’t want chris to be the person id have to do it with but… we’ll see how tonight goes.
“y/n, lets go!” a voice calls through my door.
“one second! i can’t find my bandana!” the costume was last minute, and i was matching with one of my new friends, eden, who was a sophomore. she wanted to do a matching costume, but the only sexyish ones left at the costume store were cowgirls. ironic, isn’t it?
i see a bright red piece of fabric hanging on the corner of my bed frame. “coming!” i smile, tying the bandana around my neck.
i grab chris’s hat, holding it in my hands, and staring at it. i slowly put it on in the mirror, and sigh. “here we go.”
“i need a drink.” eden sighs. we enter the sorority house that was throwing the party, and she tightly grips my hand, guiding me to the drinks table.
she hands me a red solo cup, and i push her hand back to her. “designated driver? hello?” i raise an eyebrow. she rolls her eyes. “it’s halloween, lets just get an uber or sleep here or something. live a little.” i sigh.
“pleaseeeeeeee.” she dramatically frowns. i cross my arms, and she gives me a look. “fine.” i chuckle.
“im the best fucking drink mixer there is, you wait and see.” she smirks. i shimmy in place next to her. “gotta pee. where’s the bathroom?” i question. eden points to the line of girls waiting next to a wooden door.
“fuck.”
“use the master bathroom. that’s the one for the people in sorority only, but im friends with half the group. tell ‘em i said you could go.” she smiles, licking spilled alcohol off of her finger.
“you sure?” i give a scared look to her. “go, y/n.”
“which door is it?” i bite my bottom lip. “last door on the left. be aware for socks on door handles.” she chuckles. i roll my eyes.
i nod. “i’ll be here when you get back!” i give her a thumbs up before disappearing upstairs. there weren’t really a lot of people upstairs. some people talking in the hallway, some couples sneaking off into bedrooms, or hogging bathrooms.
i arrive at the last door on the left, and i look around to make sure i was at the correct one before entering.
it was so much quieter in here. despite the now muffled music from outside, i’d stay in here for the rest of the party if i could.
drying my hands, i hear muffled sound from the other side of the bathroom door. i slowly open it, hoping i don’t walk out on a couple.
i see a fitted cap sitting on the carpet, and i walk over to it. picking up the hat, i realize exactly whose it is.
“long time no see.” a familiar voice says from behind me.
fuck.
i slowly turn around, preparing to see him. “y/n.” chris smiles that familiar smile.
“christopher.” i stare at him. he smirks, walking closer to me. “y’know, i always loved when you called me that.”
i scoff. “yeah?” he clears his throat. “yeah.”
chris leans against the sofa in the middle of the room, not taking his eyes off of me. i sit on the ottoman a few feet away.
“you look good.” he smiles, bringing his cup to his lips.
“you look… like you.” i fidget with his hat in my hands. chris places his cup on the floor next to his feet, and leans forward. “is that my hat?” he questions.
“yeah, here.” i stand up, and immediately walk over to him. i hold out his cap, and his eyes stay on mine.
“thanks… but not this one.”
i freeze in place. chris stands, towering over me, and takes his cowboy hat off of my head. “you still have this?” he says through a chuckle. “yep.” i sigh.
“we broke up.” chris says, still looking at the hat. i nod, and scoff. “yep.” i say again. he looks at me, and stares.
i sigh. “well, you returned it.” he smirks. i scoff, moving past him, and sitting on the couch. i can feel his eyes burning into the back of my head. “im gonna go.”
i hear his steps get further and further, and then stop at the door. before he gets his hand on the handle, i stand.
“why?”
chris turns around, a confused expression across his face. he shrugs. “why what?” i swallow before speaking.
“why did you kiss her back?” i ask, my voice breaking slowly. chris’s face drops, and he looks at the ground.
“i don’t know.”
i scoff. “you don’t know?” chris slowly steps toward me. i stand, arms crossed, as he arrives in front of me.
“i was wasted. i wasn’t thinking straight. i don’t know why i did it, and ive never forgiven myself, y/n.” he says.
chris slumps down on the sofa next to us, holding his head in his palms. i bite my bottom lip, debating whether or not i should sit.
chris sounded genuine. i truly do believe he didn’t mean to kiss her back. but knowing it happened still hurts.
i sit next to him, my outer thigh rubbing against his the denim that covered his legs. chris rubs his eyes, and drags his fingers down his face. “i really am so sorry.”
i shift in my position, and he looks at me. i try not to hold eye contact because he never looks away. ever.
“please believe me when i say this, i never would do what i did ever again. im so sorry.” he keeps staring.
i sigh, and lean my head against his shoulder. he leans his head on top of mine, and exhales heavily. i smile.
“i still love you.”
my eyes widen, and i slowly lift my head up, his as well. i look chris in the eyes, and he nods. “i mean it.”
i pull on my bottom lip with my teeth, and stand. i take the cowboy hat from his hands, and begin walking to the door. “i love you too.” i say, my hand on the door handle.
chris doesn’t turn around, he continues to face the wall before him, sinking into the couch. and i hesitate. i do still love chris, i never stopped.
but could we really just go back to normal after that? i’m not sure. but right about now, some sex with him would definitely clear the air. although, i’m not sure i’m entirely drunk enough to do that. eden and i pregamed before we left, but that’s about it… fuck it.
“wanna show me how much you still love me?”
chris’s head snaps toward me. he raises an eyebrow. i smile, and raise the cowboy hat above my head.
“i mean cowboy hats do have rules, don’t they?” chris stands, slowly walking toward me with a smirk across his face. “they sure do.”
he lifts me off the ground like i weigh nothing, and i wrap my legs around his waist. chris holds both hands under my ass, and i stare into his eyes. “you sure about this?”
i smile, and place the hat over his long hair.
“yes ma’am.” he replies, instantly laying me down on the master bed beside us, kissing me uncontrollably.
“i missed you,”
kiss.
“so,”
kiss.
“so,”
kiss.
“much,”
and he places one more kiss on my lips, and pulls away, staring down at me. i exhale, breaking the eye contact.
“well, if you missed me so much, prove it.” i smile.
chris’s expression turns into a smug smirk, and he leans forward, kissing me again, and gripping my waist with his pale hands.
he kisses down my neck, leaving notably visibly hickeys as he moves. i breathe heavily, trying to contain myself as he kisses and bites at my skin. “chris, please…”
“so needy. have you been waiting for me to fuck you?”
there was no point in denying. i nod, as he begins to unbuckle his belt. “use your words.” i exhale heavily.
“yeah.”
“yeah?” he pulls his belt out of the loops on his jeans, and tosses it onto the marble floor that surrounded us.
he leans back down, and begins removing pieces of my costume. chris slowly unties the red bandana from around my neck. he looks at it, then at me. “useful.”
chris takes his time removing his t-shirt. he holds eye contact with me, moving as slow as possible. “chris..”
he brings his finger to my lips. “shhh… patience.”
i throw my head back in irritation, and before i know it, two hands grip my thighs and pull me to the edge of the bed. chris spreads my legs, kissing and biting my inner thigh. “don’t need these.” he says, stroking a finger across my underwear before removing them.
he grips my hips, and moves his face closer to me. softly planting a kiss on my clit, i feel him smirk against me.
he moves his head up and down, licking from my entrance and back up to my clit. "fuck—" I moan out as he starts to lap at my clit, sending pleasure everywhere throughout my body.
cheis places his hands on the top of my thighs, making me grind against his mouth, guiding him.
his grip gets tighter, and my breathing heavier.
he continues to lick up my arousal, and i place my hands in his hair, moving it out of his face.
chris stands up, and catches his breath. i do the same, and we finally look at eachother again and he smiles.
“what if i kissed you right now?” “gross.”
he laughs, and begins to unbuckle his belt. chris holds eye contact with me the whole time. “you ready, baby?”
i nod, and chris pulls a wrapped condom out of his sock.“what the hell?” i say, through a chuckle. chris returns a laugh, and rips the top of the wrapper off with his teeth.
“gotta stay prepared.”
he pulls down his boxers, revealing his cock, which oozed with precum. i stare, my eyes getting dry, and chris smirks, placing the condom over himself.
he aligns himself with my entrance, and gives me another look for consent. “ready?” i nod. “positive.”
we both gasp as chris begins to slide in, and an immediate moan leaves my mouth. “shhhhhhhh.”
“we can’t have the whole party hearing you.”
chris glances at my red bandana, and grabs it quickly. he folds it over and over until it’s long, and looks at me.
“head.” he says, i lift my head up as best i can with him thrusting into me, and he ties it around my mouth to the back of my head.
“good girl.”
chris places both hands on my waist again, gripping it tightly. he plunges into me, making a murmured moan leave my lips every time.
chris bites his bottom lip to hold back the moans that threatened to escape him. he throws his head back, and squeezes his eyes shut.
the bed creaks consistently, and it’s pretty loud too, so it’s very obvious to everyone outside what we’re doing.
chris’s thrusts start to slow, and he begins to catch his breath. “so close… gonna—” i feel him turn warm inside me as the condom fills up.
chris leans down, untying the bandana, and placing his head next to mine. i finally breathe, and shut my eyes.
“you’re so good, baby. always so good.”
he lays down next to me, breathing heavily. i just stare at him. and he stares back.
i couldn’t help but think that this was maybe a mistake?
but whether i liked it or not, we had sex, and that’s a pretty difficult thing for two ex’s to get away from.
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rustedhearts · 5 months
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hard learnin’ (gator tillman x fem!reader)
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summary: gator punishes you for flaunting what (isn’t) his.
uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.
✶ main masterlist
tags: spanking, oral (m receiving), spitting (a lot of it), canon-compliant misogyny, mean!gator.
for @loveshotzz <3
the tillman barn. early morning.
“I told you—not to—do it.”
Every few words came with the snap of leather on flesh, cracking off the barn walls and exciting the horses stomping in their stables. Your fingers gripped the metal of the corral with all their might, digging into your chest against your will. Every strike of his heavy duty belt had you lurching toward the dirt and hay. Your socked feet were picking up pebbles, unprepared for an assault at such an early hour.
But you did get yourself into this mess.
“M-m so-sorry,” you hiccuped, listening to the corral clang on its hinges after a particularly rough hit.
Gator huffed, glaring down at your swelling, discolored flesh. “Yeah, now you are. Weren’t so sorry last night, were ya?”
And you weren’t. You weren’t sorry when you got dolled up in a tight little black dress and called up your friends. You weren’t sorry when you scampered down to the dive and climbed up on the bar to pour drinks. You weren’t sorry when you let that guy drag you to the dance floor. You weren’t sorry when you drunkenly scrawled some version of your phone number on a napkin and tucked it in his pants.
But you were sorry now. Gator always made sure you were sorry.
“Asked you a question, brat.” Another hard strike, slicing through the air and down on your bare ass. Your pajama pants sat around your ankles.
But the thing about Gator? He acted like you were his. His property, his possession, his girl. Yet when the time came to possess you, to have you—he fell short. Never claimed you as his girlfriend, never promised long term commitment, never made you feel like it was true. He always left you hanging.
You sniffled, willing away hot tears stinging in your eyes. Your nose burned and tingled, and you kept glancing toward the door of the barn in hopes Gator’s daddy wouldn’t come waltzing in to hold witness to your humiliation. He heard the sounds of Gator’s punishments once before and patted his son on the shoulder later at dinner. Gotta keep ‘em in line, son. You despised it. How him and his father thought they could do whatever they wanted because they ran the town.
But you loved him. It was your own damn fault.
“Shakin’ like a fuckin’ leaf, sweetheart,” Gator chuckled. He paused a moment to spit on the dirt: a sharp smack of saliva landing near your feet.
“H-hurts,” you whimpered, knees buckling to ease the sting.
Gator huffed, eyes rolling behind you. He gave you a mild lash on the thigh in reprimand. “Get back up.”
You stomped your socked foot, whining into a pout. “I’ll make it up to you, Gator, please!”
The buckle of his belt—a wide silver embellishment—tinkled as he let the leather droop. He cocked his head, inspecting your welts and swelling bruises as he thought. He fished into the pocket on his thigh and pulled out the strawberry-kiwi vape, taking a quick, hissing hit. He sighed as it furled out, tongue clicking.
“Fine. Since you’re just gonna keep complain’ anyway. C’mere.”
You shakily lifted from the corral bars, spinning around. Reaching down, your fingers curled into the elastic band of your pajama pants, but Gator whistled sharply.
“Hey. Uh-uh, leave ‘em.”
Huffing, you sulked and dropped your hands. “Why can’t I—“
“You talkin’ back?” Gator cocked his head again as he stuck the vape in his mouth.
You watched his cheeks hollow with a deep inhale. The mechanical vape click made your blood boil. You wanted to hike your pants up, march over there, and spit in his face. But his shoulders looked so broad in that stocky black sheriff’s vest. His hair was recently trimmed, lined up neatly around his ears and neck. The way those camo pants hugged his hips made you clench. And the belt still sat in his hand, silver gleaming menacingly in the soft yellow of morning light.
With hot cheeks, you huffed again and looked down. “No.”
Gator tucked his vape back in his pants and spit toward the left. His fingers drummed on the stiff lining of his vest, and he nodded down toward the ground at his feet.
“Well…it ain’t gonna suck itself.”
Your knees thumped to the hard ground instantly. You crawled his way slowly, glaring up at the smirk on his face when he had the audacity to shuffle back just to make you come. He chuckled, but stayed in place until you stopped at his feet. You sat back on your heels in the dirt and unzipped his pants, slipping him out into your palm.
“Ooh, shit. C’mon don’t play w’ it, baby, open your mouth.”
He hooked his hands into his vest when your mouth closed over him, chin tipped back toward the roof of the barn as he groaned. Warm pleasure enveloped him, but on the ground, you were freezing cold. Your ass and thighs ached pressed against your feet, fingers growing numb against his thighs.
But maybe if you did a good job, he’d be sweet again. Maybe he’d hold you tonight when he got home from work. Maybe he’d kiss you all over like he did sometimes, tickle you when you pouted too much. Maybe he’d be kind.
You worked your mouth over him languidly, and Gator groaned without shame. He dropped his belt to the dirt with a thud and wrapped his hand in your hair, guiding you around. You knew just what kind of suction, just how much tongue, how to look at him and where to put your hands—you knew him so insanely well. It was a goddamn shame.
“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, hips jutting toward your mouth. “Suck that dick.”
He grunted as he thrust in and out of your mouth, reveling in the wet squelches of your constricting throat. He dropped your hair and you heard the click of his vape again. The fruity smoke tickled your nose when he blew it down on you.
You lifted your eyes, blurring hot with tears. And as you found Gator’s pink-cheeked face, his own eyes hazy with pleasure and bliss—he opened his mouth and spat one out.
A wad of warm spit sizzled on your cheek, and you flinched at the smacking impact. Your mouth stilled around him, suction loosening.
“Oops,” Gator chuckled above you, sticking the vape near his mouth again. “Did I getcha, hon?”
Though a humiliated fury surged in your chest, you kept your lips closed around his cock and did your best. He wanted you to get irritated with him. He thought you were so cute when you got all riled up. And he liked being the one riling you.
Gator’s thumb pressed into your cheek, massaging his spit into your skin. Your eyes fluttered closed on their own will, soothed by his touch. He was rarely soft like that. Your involuntary moan had him bucking into your mouth again, hand moving to scrunch in your hair once more.
“Fuck, you’re a dirty bitch. No better than…an animal,” he groaned. “God, fuck ‘m gonna cum.”
You put him as far back in your throat as you could manage, nose nudging the furry patch on his pelvis. The vibrant, neon green of his vape entered your periphery when it pressed against your cheek under his hand, both of them coming to brace your head now. Gator liked you to swallow his seed. He thought it was dirty, disgusting—but that’s what he loved about it.
“B-better—swallow it,” he ordered through tight teeth. You bobbed your head in compliance, watching the veins in his neck strain around the collar of his t-shirt and behind his vest.
He pinched his eyes closed, jaw agape, nose scrunched up—and a strangled moan sliced through the barn as he spilled into your mouth. It slipped down your throat in a thick, sticky coating that had you cringing. He huffed and squirmed as he softened on your tongue, and you suckled at him absentmindedly as he slipped out.
Tucking himself back into his pants, he patted an open palm on your spit-sticky cheek. You swallowed again to ensure it was all down, and waited for him to give you the okay. God, your ass was still burning.
Gator sniffed, reaching down for his belt. He was just slipping it through the loops of his pants when a distant clang caused his head to snap up.
“Fuck, get up. My dad’s gonna be out soon.”
You wobbled as you got to your feet like a brand new fawn. You peeled your pajama pants back over your hips and secured the strings, doing your best to brush off the dirt and hope it didn’t stain. The soft fabric did little to muffle the acute sting of Gator’s strap.
“Come on,” he hissed, yanking your arm to pull you close.
He kept a close eye on the front of the barn as he hurried you out back, dragging you through the dirt the whole way. Roy Tillman would have his few hours on his horse at the ass crack of dawn like he always did, and Gator would wait until he was told what to do to make his daddy happy again.
You wouldn’t see him again until near morning.
“You’ll wait at home,” he instructed, heading toward his truck. “You hear me? No runnin’ around.”
You huffed as you slid in, crossing your arms. The truck jostled when he slammed the door after him, and the engine started up with a coughing growl. He whipped out of the dirt patch driveway, heading down the trail toward your house (where he yanked you from your bed not too long ago).
“Why can’t I just stay at your house?”
Gator scoffed, putting his vape in his mouth again. “Dad don’t like strangers around.”
Stranger somehow stung worse than anything else. He just spent an hour attacking your ass for going out without him—but you were still a stranger?
“Your dad’s an asshole—“
Gator slammed on the brakes, sending you hurtling forward against the seatbelt. Once you fell back, his hand latched to your jaw, fingers pressed tight into your cheeks. The look he fixed you with was sharp and mean.
“You watch your fuckin’ mouth.”
He tossed your head away harshly, and you glared down at your knees. He shook his head toward the windshield as he took his foot off the brake and sped down the street.
“Looks like you still have some learnin’ to do.” Gator hollowed his cheek around that stupid fruity piece of plastic again. The smoke slipped into the cold autumn air.
“Don’t worry. I’ll set ya straight, hon.”
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ashipiko · 18 days
Text
—NIKO CIMARRON
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All information on Niko Cimarron ATM! Will most likely be updated ☆
—MORE UNDER CUT
BASIC INFORMATION:
Class: 2-A
Birthday: October 24
Height: 176cm
Dominant Hand: Right
From: Land of Pyroxene / Shaftlands
Club: Film Studies (visits on occasion, inactive member)
Favorite Subject: Magic Analysis
Best Subject: Animal Languages
Likes: Making a profit
Dislikes: Getting outsmarted
Favorite Food: Berries / Berry flavored things
Least Favorite Food: Anything too hot
Specialty: Balancing on the line of lie and truth
GALLERY:
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VOICE CLAIM:
YUU’S INTERVIEW:
— Scarabia Dorms - Niko’s Room —
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for easier reading, all yuu dialogue will be in italics and all niko dialogue will be in a normal black font instead of green.
There you are. Surprised you came to visit me, Carrots.
> You know what I’m here for, Niko.
> Why are you surprised?
No need to act like that. Interview, right? Or should I say an interrogation? If you wanted to hang out with me, you didn’t need to hide around the bush, you know…
It’s cute seeing you all dodgy, but still. ♡
> I think it matches your vibe.
> You’re one to talk.
Yeah, yeah. How many questions do we have planned for today? Don’t take too long, now. I’ve gotta start pumping out those treats for my profit.
…Oh. No need to worry about a pen and paper, I’ve got one for you.
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> I didn’t expect for you to be so prepared.
> (…They’re cuter than expected.)
Something something about matching the vibes… They’re modeled after an old movie about cops and so, interrogating. Figured you’d like them. A carrot for Carrots. It’s cute.
It’s about time to start though, huh?
> Yeah.
> No more wasting time.
INTERVIEW: START!
1. Can we get some basic info about you from… you?
A second year Scarabia student who’s a fox beastman. I guess I’m what you’d call a charmer, thief of the heart, man of your dreams… I’ve heard it all. But the real name’s Niko. Niko Cimarron. My surname means “Wild”, so you could call me Mr. Wild if you like that too. Heh, actually, it’s a business thing, so I guess you’d only call me that if you bought my products… Say, Carrots, you feeling like you need a snack? I have some lefties if you’d like.
> No thanks.
> Why not?
They’re tasty, I prommie~.
2. Speaking of which, what are your “pawpsicles” made from? How do you make them?
Those little things? Why, I’ll let you know I put my blood, sweat, and tears in those treats. Makes me happy to see other people happy, like the faces on a thaumark. To make ‘em, it’s just some tasty berries from the school grounds that get mushed up to get juice, where they go into a mold and freeze up. It’s hard work! I’ve gotta walk so many steps around the school and all across campus… You’re lucky you never saw me in my first year. Took me a while to get used to the schedule… Though, I’m a well-organized man now, I’ll have you know. It’s good for the public image.
3. You’re from the Shaftlands, aren’t you? Do you have any connections to Vil, Cater, or Jack?
Connections? I have them with everyone, really… though I don’t think those three are really aware I came from the same place as them. To be fair, the Shaftlands is a pretty big area. People even go as far to call it a utopia.
If anything, I’ve talked to Diamond more at NRC than anywhere in the Shaftlands. Is that because I never even saw him once? Maybe. So I can’t say about back then, but I can enjoy a good conversation with him now. He’s a good customer and a good influencer. Back then, he got me a good chunk of costumers off of a Magicam post, so I’ve got to give it to him. Who knew people could just follow trendy things at the drop of a hat? Crazy, right?
Vil is a major celebrity, and Jack, I didn’t even know existed ‘till this year. I’ve got nothing to say about Mr. Hardhead, but I’ve had my fair share of talks with Vil. When we were kids, I got a wave from him once… It was great bragging rights. Heh, he kinda freaks me out now though. The reason why I don’t actually participate in club activities. He’s probably too high of a standard for a lowlife like me, so it’s not something that bothers me anyway.
4. You don’t seem to have a Unique Magic. Any reason why?
Ah. Magic? A little bit of a sour topic for me, Carrots, ow… I’m just a late bloomer, is all. I’ve got magic in me, but I never played around with it when I was younger, so I’m way more rusty than all of the other guys here. It doesn’t mean I don’t know the brain stuff, though. Just inexperienced.
If I’m being dead honest, it’s kind of a miracle how I got into NRC. I guess they wanted the fox vote, huh? Heh.
5. Not sure if I’ve seen you around a lot with one particular person. Is there a secret someone?
Secret someone? Getting jealous, are you? Haha, I would’ve never taken you to be the type!
> Not the focus of the question.
> That’s not…!
It’s your fault for wording it like that. You’ve got to watch your words, Carrots. Well, the business life is a cold one, isn’t it? Being around a bunch of highschool guys isn’t really the “ideal” grounds for making business partners either, so it is what it is. At least this way, I get all the profits, so I don’t mind. If you want, I can save a spot for you by my side. ♡
> Again, no thanks.
> Maybe after I get a break from all the things this school brings.
Keep me in mind~.
6. Our last question. You say a lot of random stuff. People get annoyed with it pretty often. How do you feel about that?
…? Oh, you picked up on it, huh? Heh, I mean… I guess I could come clean. I think it’s interesting you haven’t walked away from me yet, y’know. Usually people aren’t into this stuff.
> You are annoying, but…
> (Would it be mean to say something?)
I appreciate you, Carrots. A little too much than I’d like.
Usually people don’t really like the stereotypical foxiness I bring to the table. They run away because I’m either something they don’t wanna get mixed up with, or just something they don’t like. I think you’re a weirdo who’s looking for entertainment when you come into my room and talk to me like this.
…But I guess that just means that you like the way I talk to you, right? You can’t get enough? Is that what’s happening here? ♡
> For a second, I thought you were going to need some comfort, but I guess not.
> Really, it’s fine, Niko…
Don’t pretend like your cheeks aren’t a little red. I like the reactions I get out of you. ♡
Is that all you wanted? Yeah? Alright, we’re done here, then. Hand me the pen, would ya?
> It was nice being able to talk to you like this.
> (That was a quick turnaround.)
…Yeah. Hurry on up, shouldn’t you be studying up on actual things worth studying? Live up to that Smarty McSmart Pants title. Bye-bye now~.
INTERVIEW: END!
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> (I feel like Niko’s more than meets the eye.)
> (I feel like Niko’s… hiding something.)
.
.
.
TRIVIA:
Niko is actually magicless. Not entirely, as he does have some running in his blood, so he didn’t lie, but it’s not enough where he can successfully conjure spells. Because of this, at NRC, he often has to get by with con-artist type excuses and acts. It works most of the time, as he has Crowley’s support. For now, he’s getting by with the excuse of being a late bloomer, but I’m sure suspicions are beginning to rise… Perhaps, if this were to be found out that he’s unable to conjure spells, he would be kicked out of NRC.
He made it to NRC after being dared to attempt to con his way in by his magicless best friend. His name is not noted, but he’s a very angry and violent French fennec fox. Niko is often bullied by him.
He can be considered a fan of Vil.
Niko enjoys the pop genre a lot, but is embarrassed to admit it.
Despite being a playboy, Niko is easily flustered at the thought of someone making moves on him.
Even though he doesn’t want to, he feels obligated to play into the deceitful foxiness of himself, because that’s what people naturally expect of him. It stops them from getting curious about him, as it seems like they’ve already got him figured out.
He says things that are considered shallow, like flirting or bargaining because he wants to get a reaction out of people. Niko does small things like this for small reactions — enough of these small reactions will fulfill the same satisfaction of seeing someone he loves flustered or happy, he thinks. In truth, he knows it won’t amount to much. Niko tries to satisfy himself enough so that he won’t need the real thing.
Niko feels very guilting for deceiving everyone at NRC, especially the prefect. Even still, he doesn’t have the heart to tell them that he truly doesn’t belong here, taking up a spot possibly for somebody who deserves it much more.
Niko’s way of thinking suggests that if he acts distasteful enough, it will cause people to stray far away from him. He believes that he really is just a lowlife fox, but the truth of his actions is something he think people would hate him for most; living in a lie. Because of this, he acts like a playboy and an annoyance in attempts to get people to stay away, preventing them from finding out the even uglier truth of him.
Additionally, he’s afraid to have the truth leak out because he doesn’t want to leave NRC. Though he doesn’t have much, he doesn’t want to lose the little bit he does have.
Even still, Niko craves for someone who will take time to understand him. Which is why he’s so attached to the prefect.
More to be added!
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mindibindi · 5 months
Text
Fourteen is just gonna turn that second TARDIS into a library, isn't he? It's gonna grow weeds around the bottom as it sits there in the backyard next to Rose's TARDIS. He's gonna dig through all of his outer space logs and find the weirdest creatures in the universe and then he's gonna sprint across and shove a picture in her face and say: Hey think you can make THIS one?? And all her customers are gonna be like: WHERE do you come up with this stuff?? And she'll tell em her uncle helps.
Over time, the TARDIS will learn to chill out too, grow smaller and slower and dimmer. The Doctor will get special issues and old tomes and otherworldly pamphlets delivered to Wilf's old newsstand and he'll wheel Wilf down to collect them and get a sneaky pie while Sylvia isn't looking. Sylvia is gonna say the TARDIS is too chilly (even though she barely steps inside the thing for fear of it flitting off with her) so she's gonna bring CHAIRS and pillows and throws and cups of tea. Mostly because Rose and her Dad like to hang out in there. Definitely not for the Doctor himself. (Although he does like her tuna madras better than anyone else does, so maybe she brings him some of that. Just so it doesn't go to waste). Sean will build the Doctor a desk and a little patio around the TARDIS perimeter so he can sit outside and sun himself. And when Donna comes home from a hard day's work at UNIT, he's gonna throw thick volumes at her, saying: oh I know what that is, read this, that'll help. And Donna will be like: WHY do I gotta read a big ole book when YOU can just TELL ME what we're dealing with? And Fourteen's gonna be like: oh no, I'm retired. And I'm working on a full written history of [insert weird alien name -- probly the horsey alien thing from "Wild Blue Yonder"]. But now and again, when things get really dire, she will persuade him to come to UNIT as a consultant. The TARDIS will stay put tho, it'll just keep growing grass around the bottom and gathering leaves on top. Instead, he'll chuck Donna the keys to the car and say: You're driving (and then he'll complain about her driving the whole way as he is scrunched up against the car door because Donna now has full license from UNIT to be a hoon).
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starrylevi · 4 months
Note
Can you do more Levi and chunky baby.
Of course!!! ☺️ Okay so this kind of got away from me. I had trouble figuring out how to end it so if the ending seems abrupt I apologize 😅
🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣
“This little sucker’s got some weight on them.” Hange teases with a smile as she pokes the baby’s cheek.
“Sounds like you’re just weak.” Levi retorts. “Give me my child.”
Hange rolls their eyes at him. “I never said it was a bad thing, Levi.”
Levi stares at Hange for a few seconds before he relents.
“Your dad’s so easy to anger.” Hange speaks in a childlike voice to the baby. “Good luck, kid.”
“Certain people are quick to anger me.” Levi corrects them as he throws a glare their way.
Hange’s eyes light up when you walk into the room. “Ah, y/n, could you please tell your husband to lighten up?” They request as they walk over to you, your baby babbling on their hip.
You quickly look at Levi who rolls his eyes and you shake your head with a chuckle. “What did you do this time, Hange?”
“I just said your baby’s got some nice weight on them.” Hange says with a smile before looking back at the baby. “Don’t cha, ya little plum.”
You sigh with a smile, knowing your baby’s weight is a touchy subject for Levi. “I’m sure you didn’t mean in a bad way.”
Hange looks back at your husband as if to say ‘See, Levi?’
“However, you should be careful about what you say around him. I won’t be liable for any injuries.” You tell Hange with a smirk as they pass you the child.
“You gotta tell your auncle to be careful with their words or daddy will hurt them.” You take them into your arms, kissing them on the cheek, emitting a happy babble from them. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Hange says mockingly, making you giggle, before they walk out of the room.
You walk over to Levi whose eyes soften as you get closer. “Hi.” You greet him softly before you give him a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Hey.” Levi sighs as he gently pulls you in by the waist for another kiss, minding the baby. “And hello to you too.” He gives them a gentle kiss on their forehead.
“I was thinking of taking a shower. Do you mind?” You ask him.
“Of course not, give ‘em here.”
After you leave the room, Levi puts down a clean baby blanket on the floor before he sets a colorful inflatable water mat right in front of it.
“Alright kid, it’s tummy time.” He places the baby down on their stomach with their upper half directly on top of the mat.
He watches as the baby becomes fixated on the squishy fish and ducks floating around in the mat. Their chubby hands try to grab at the fish while they try to hold themselves up. “There you go.” Levi says under his breath. The baby doesn’t typically like tummy time so you and Levi tried to think of different ideas to make it more stimulating for them. This inflatable mat is what you two decided on.
They seemed to be entertained for a few minutes before he sees their little body slowly roll themselves over so that they’re on their side. “Where do you think you’re going, hm?” Levi gently grabs the one chubby hand in the air and brings it back down so that they’re upright on their stomach again. The same thing happens a few more times. “Now you’re just being a little shit, huh.” He watches as the baby rolls over for the last time on their back. “Wonder where you got your stubbornness from.” He mutters to himself as he picks up the little chunk. The baby babbles and taps his cheeks with their little hands. “I’m sure that was fun for you, wasn’t it?” He asks them, earning a babble from them as a response. “Yeah, I bet…”
Levi grabs one of the baby snacks on the dresser before sitting down on the rocking chair you begged him to get, baby on his lap. “What am I gonna do with you?” He shakes his head as he opens the bag and feeds the baby a snack. “Should we just leave you somewhere?” Levi asks thoughtfully. As the baby chews on the snack, they look up at their father, their big sliver eyes mirroring his. The way they’re looking up makes it seem like they understood what Levi said. “No you don’t like that idea?” The baby continues to stare at him, making Levi let out a chuckle before he feeds them another snack. “Love you bud.”
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gh0stsp1d3r · 10 months
Text
Ruthless
Harley Quinn typa reader x Hobie brown, violence mention, if you know Harley Quinn yk she’s very.. violent (and obsessed) so… enemies to lovers trope
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“Oh, c’mon.” You whined, currently tied up in webs.
“I’ve been chasin’ you for fuckin’ ages, can’t believe this is how I caught you.”
“I was going to hang out with my friend! This is unfair, I deserve a rematch.” You pouted.
“Yeah, no. After that lil stunt you pulled last week, no way. You’re ruthless.”
“They deserved it! Bunch of rich assholes.” You mumbled the last part.
“Well, I can agree with you on that last part, but murdering them ain’t exactly the way to go.” He said, picking you up as if you weighed nothing, and dragging you.
“It was funnn.. plus you know I’m gonna break out again, right?”
“Like you have the other 10 times?”
“Exactly.”
“Great. Can’t wait.” He said sarcastically and rolled his eyes.
And you’d gotten bored of being carried, so you quickly threw yourself onto the ground when you saw a knife in the alley.
He quickly looked back, and saw you cutting you webs, he shook his head and sighed, crouching down to your level as you continued to cut through the webs.
“You never learn, do ya?” He reached over you, grabbing the knife from you.
“No, not really, no.” You shook your head, now just laying on the ground looking at him.
“You’re insufferable.” He sighed and shook his head, sitting down in front of you now.
“Why’d you do it?”
“Cause… rich people suck, plus they’re like some sorta cult, they tried to kill my friend.”
“Still don’t make it right, you know? You’re wanted right now, not sure it’s very safe to be walking around like it’s nothing.”
“Please, if I can handle like a shit ton of rich guys, I can handle some cops."
“Yeah, well, I don’t like ‘em either but..”
“But..? Aren’t you like punk? Aren’t cops and shit like.. exactly what you don’t stand for?”
“Well, I’m better than the system for one. You’re better than the system, but you’re doin’ it wrong.” He shook his head.
“Didn’t know there was a way to go against the system wrong.”
“You- you murder people, you’re a killin’ machine, which I gotta admit is pretty cool. I help people-“
“I help people.. just not in the same way you do-“
“You help people by murdering people. Which in the same sense is… hurting people at the same time.”
“Huh. Guess I never thought about it like that.” You shrugged.
He sighed, and messed with the knife in his hand. He reluctantly cut the webs.
“Jus’… chill out on the murder, yeah? I do like what you did what that one guy though.”
“Which one?” You beamed and sat across from him.
“The predator guy.. what’s his name?”
“His name was like Josh or something.”
“Yeah, him. He deserved it.” He said, and smiled under his mask slightly.
“Just what do you look like under that mask?” You asked him.
“Like a normal person.”
You quirked an eyebrow and smiled slightly. You reached your hands out and pulled up his mask, before you could fully take it off, he stopped you. You saw only his nose, that’s as far as it went. His lips seemed so… kissable?
He let go of your hand and you looked at him for a while. And before you knew it, you both were leaning in, kissing each other.
“You’re very.. pretty.” He said.
You laughed quietly “Well, I would say you too but I still don’t know what you look like under there.” Your cheeks heated up at the compliment.
“Nice try.” He stood up again, and so did you. He pulled down his mask, giving you a small salute and used his webs to go up on a building, jumping through them.
You stared for a while, still in shock.
“Shit.”
—————
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zepskies · 9 months
Note
So, how would Ben react if he and the reader went clothes-shopping for him and he overhears the saleswomen talking to themselves about how insanely hot he was (and how they’d climb him like a tree, because hello!) While he’s flattered, he sees the reader overhearing them, and she’s visibly annoyed/upset by it? Up to you if she calls them out on it, or spirals and says nothing, or whatever!
Ooooh thank you for this request, my friend!! ❤️❤️
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female Reader Word Count: 1,100 Warnings: 18+ only! A little smutty towards the end. 😘
Imagine: Getting jealous over this man. 💚
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"My clothes are fine," Ben is still insisting, even as you hold up a crisp, black buttoned-down shirt up to his chest in scrutiny.
"You need more stuff in this decade, baby," you tell him. You just think he's taking issue with you picking things out for him.
He doesn't often like to relinquish control, but he's tacitly agreed that you just have a better sense of what's fashionable now. He doesn't mind standing out, but he doesn't want to look out of place either.
And as much as he'd never admit it, he wants to look good.
So you and Ben have been at the mall browsing for the past hour. Express for Men has some interesting finds; you already have a large pile of shirts, jackets, pants, and jeans set aside for him to try on.
Ben has strong opinions, especially on pants. He blatantly refuses skinny jeans, for which you begrudgingly concede. You have to pick your battles with your boyfriend, and this one's not the hill to die on, you think.
So you put down the tight pants in favor of some tasteful dark wash jeans. He eyes this pair also with wariness. "Why the fuck do they have holes in 'em?" he asks.
You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing. "They're ripped jeans."
"On purpose?" he asks.
Oh lord. "Yes, Ben. They're distressed."
"Christ on a cross, so am I. This is what goes for fashion nowadays?"
God, give me fucking strength, you think. But you still smile. "You're gonna look good, I promise you."
So Ben gathers the pile you've created for him, and with a deep sigh, he heads over to the dressing room. There are two saleswomen stationed there. One visibly breathes in at the sight of him as she subtly taps the other one on the hip. Both greet him with bright eyes and smiles. "Hi there! Need a room?" the first one asks.
"Yeah," Ben nods, and she dutifully lets him into the biggest one. It has a cushioned bench and plenty of hooks on the wall for hanging the shirts and pants.
"Need any help laying these out?" she asks. He shakes his head. "No. I'm good, sweetheart."
She giggles a bit, like he's said something funny. "Okay! Well just let me know if you need any help. Like a different size, different color, if you need a belt, or anything like that."
Ben spots her blush and can't help but smile at her indulgently. "Sure." He has no intention of taking her up on her "help," but he knows the effect he has on women. Once she leaves, he closes the dressing room door and starts trying things on.
He's surprised to find he actually likes a lot of what you picked out for him. But then his superior hearing picks up what the women out front are whispering to each other in excitement.
"Oh my God, it's a criminal offense to have that jawline," says the one who helped him. "And that beard? Cut to perfection."
Ben smirks, both in amusement and with a well of pride welling in his chest. Still got it, fuckers.
The other scoffs. "Honey, I'd climb that man like a goddamn tree."
They snicker together, trying and failing to be quiet. "He looks so familiar though, I swear to God."
"Psh. Maybe in your dreams," one teases. The other hums. "Well, he'll definitely be making an appearance tonight...maybe when I'm still awake." Ben raises a brow at that.
"Hmm, looks like he's got a girlfriend though. She picked out all that stuff for him."
He then perks up a bit at the mention of you.
"Ehh, come on. She's gotta be a sister or something. Look at her."
"Aww, don't do that. She's cute."
"Cute doesn't bag a man like that." The other one chortles in response.
Ben frowns. He knew women were petty, but this takes the fucking cake. You're a New York "10," even in your old sweatpants and a bare face.
"What-fucking-ever, bitch. I'm gonna slip him my number. See if he needs any further assistance." Cue more obnoxious giggling.
The other one chimes in. "Ooh, you're bad. But I'm here for it. Get your man, girl."
"Excuse me." Oh, shit. Ben's brows raise of their own accord. That was your voice.
"Yes," one of the saleswomen greets you more professionally.
"I just want to check on how my boyfriend's doing. He's in that room, right?" you ask. Ben hears your tone though. It's clipped, direct, and intentional. He knows then: you definitely heard those twittering broads.
"Yes, right back there," one of the women directs you.
"Thank you," you reply flatly.
Ben smirks as he hears your brusque steps approaching. He checks himself out in the mirror real quick (the white shirt and black pants are simple, but they go well with the black jacket, he thinks). Then he unlocks the door and opens it, right as you were about to knock.
You blink up at him with surprise, and the remnants of a frown.
He leans against the doorframe, looking down at you with a charming smile. "Hey there, beautiful."
Your lips start to form a smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "Hey." You take in his current outfit with interest and approval. "Ooh, I like this. You look good...how do you feel in it?"
"Good," Ben says, but his eyes are focused on you. "Come 'ere."
He takes you by surprise when his hand guides you inside the dressing room by the waist. He locks it behind you. You look up at him in askance. He grasps your chin and tilts your face up to him.
"What's the matter?" he asks knowingly.
You raise a brow at him, shaking your head. "Nothing. Come on, did you try on this other stuff?"
Ben keeps a stubborn grip on your chin, so you can't turn away from him. "Don't tell me you're letting those maneating bimbos get to you."
Your eyes go wide and you raise a finger to your lips, reminding him to keep it quiet, but he doesn't give two fucks about that. He sits down on the soft bench and pulls you down with him. You sit across his lap and give him a rueful smile, stroking his cheek.
"I'll let you in on a little secret though," Ben says. Your expression crosses between amusement and intrigue. He leans in close your ear. "Jealousy looks fucking hot on you."
You guffaw in response, playfully smacking his arm.
"Hey, easy on the jacket," he smirks, but he claims you with a kiss. His fingers go to the button on your jeans, undoing it and slowly, torturously, guiding down the zipper. You suck in a breath.
"Ben, we can't," you say. But you're already moaning softly in his ear when his thick fingers begin to rub your pussy through your underwear. You blush at the naughtiness of this, even though the thought just turns you on even more.
He soon moves your panties aside to find your wet, soft heat.
You grip his hair tight, trying to bite your lip against a gasp as his fingers enter you, and begin to pulse inside. Your lower belly coils with heat, especially when his thumb finds your clit.
"We're paying customers," he says, with a deepening smirk. "We can do whatever we damn well please."
At the moment, you find it hard to argue with his logic.
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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 4 months
Text
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Words: 4,776 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan Warnings: language, gore, violence, descriptions of flashbacks and implied PTSD, fear and anxiety Summary: After seeing Y/N freeze outside the walls a few days earlier during an encounter with walkers, Carol suggest that she needs to learn how to fight. Shortly after, she goes missing.
“Hey. Have ya seen Y/N?” Daryl drawled. “I can’t find her anywhere. I’ve been lookin’ for over an hour. We were s’posed to meet up today but she didn’t show.” Even as he said it, his stomach twisted. That wasn’t like you to miss an agreed on meeting.
Glenn shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since this morning. Maggie?” Maggie shook her head, at a loss.
Carol shifted uncomfortably and Daryl picked up on it immediately, his eyes narrowing and becoming sharp. “Carol?” he prodded her.
She straightened up and met his discerning gaze. “I need some air,” Carol said. “Come on out and—and we’ll talk.” She didn’t give Daryl an option and quickly moved through the kitchen, down the hall, and out onto the porch.
Daryl burst out after her, tense and unsettled. “S’goin’ on?” he growled.
Carol spun and leaned back against the railing, crossing her arms over herself as if it would shield her from the reaction she seemed to know was coming. “I saw her earlier. We… talked.” Daryl’s eyes narrowed even further.
“Ya talked. And now she’s nowhere to be found? What the hell did ya say?”
Carol shifted anxiously again. “I just—I told her that it would be a good idea if she got some lessons on how to fight… I told her she could ask you or Rosita or—”
“Ya what?” he growled, stepping up to her. His face seemed to flare up crimson. “Why the hell didya say anythin’ to her like that?”
Carol gave him dubious look. “Daryl. She’s useless when it comes to—”
He was immediately pointing angrily in her face. “Ya dunno what the hell yer talkin’ about! Ya shouldn’ta said anythin’!” He stalked angrily back and forth across the porch.
Carol was a little taken aback by how angry he was. “Well, am I wrong? She hardly leaves the walls and when we were out last week and those walkers came in, she just froze!”
Daryl paced a tight circle in front of her. “Ya dunno what yer talkin’ about,” he growled again. “And it ain’t none of yer damn business. Why’d ya have to say anythin’ to her? Huh? Can’t ya just worry ‘bout yer damn self?”
Now Carol did scoff. “It’s my business if I want to help her stay alive!” She watched the scowl on Daryl’s face incredulously. “Or are you making that your job now?” she asked him pointedly.
He froze in his pacing, his shoulders thrown back. “Ya, maybe I am.”
Carol shook her head. “You’re gonna take on that responsibility? Do you have any idea what that—” Past feelings of guilt and grief for Sophia, for Mika and Lizzie welled up inside her. “You have no idea how it feels to shoulder that and fail.”
“Oh, really? I don’t? What ‘bout Beth, huh?”
Carol immediately went silent, her mouth hanging slightly open. She closed her eyes and sighed. “I—I’m sorry. I—”
“Ya forgot?” he growled. “Yeah, tha’s a luxury I ain’t got.”
“No, of course I didn’t forget. I just didn’t—Look, I’m sorry if you feel that I was out of line with Y/N. But I was doing it from a place of good intentions.”
“Yeah. The road to hell is paved with ‘em. Ain’t that what they say?” He shot her another sharp look and shook his head dismissively. “Forget it. I gotta find her. Ya ain’t got no idea what ya—” He broke off, shaking his head, and hurried toward his place to collect his gear.
Glenn and Maggie came out, announced by the creak of the screen door. Carol was staring at Daryl’s figure shrinking down the road. “You okay?” Glenn asked, stopping beside her. “Sounded… bad,” he mused.
“I’m fine,” Carol said. “You know how he can be,” she added with a forced smile. “Mostly bark.”
Maggie came and stood at the railing, looking after Daryl’s retreating figure too. “You have any idea what’s goin’ on? About Y/N, I mean.”
Carol shook her head. “No. Obviously there’s something we don’t know about her. All I said to her was that she should get some lesson to learn to fight. Daryl was furious. I don’t know why…”
“Well,” Maggie sighed, “hopefully he finds her and nothing else comes of it. I’m sure it’ll be alright,” she reassured Carol.
Daryl was soon at the gate and called up to Tobin who was on watch. “Hey. Ya been on watch long?”
He leaned over the railing to look down at Daryl and nodded. “Yeah. Since after the midday meal.”
“Ya know Y/N?” Daryl asked.
Tobin nodded. “Sure. She went out a few hours ago with her pack. Hasn’t come back in yet. I was a bit surprised to be honest. She hasn’t left the walls very often since Aaron brought her in.”
Daryl nodded. “Ya see which way she was headin’?”
“Straight down the road ‘til I couldn’t see her anymore,” Tobin said, straightening up. “Should we be worried?” he asked, his brow furrowing.
Daryl shrugged. “I dunno. Tha’s why ‘m headin’ out. I’ll find her. Thanks,” he called up. Tobin waved him out and another Alexandrian rolled the gate back so he could exit. It clanged shut behind him with a noise that felt strangely ominous. Daryl set off straight down the road, just as Tobin said you had, and he scrutinized it for any sign of you. After several minutes of walking he found a small boot print in the dirt that definitely could have belonged to you. A shot of anxiety ran through him like a white-hot lightning bolt. What the hell was Carol thinking? Telling you to learn to fight… Shit. Another voice in his head answered, She didn’t, couldn’t know. He rubbed a hand over his mouth and chin as he straightened up and continued walking. His blue eyes were narrowed as he scanned the tree line on either side of the road and the grassy ditch beside him. You had to be alright. You had to be.
He walked for about another twenty minutes, painstakingly scrutinizing the side of the road to make sure he didn’t miss a path you’d veered off on, when he suddenly saw some dark bundle up ahead in the ditch. His heart plummeted into his stomach and his feet faltered. It was still too far ahead and partially obscured in the long grass and weeds. He couldn’t tell what it was. He took off toward it at a quickened pace before breaking into a full out run. After the first couple steps into the grass, he stopped dead. It wasn’t you. Thank God, it wasn’t you. He took a moment and bent forward with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Sweat dripped down his face from his hairline and he took out his bandana to mop at it, his mouth still open, chest heaving. He straightened up and looked down at the ragged corpse.
There was an obvious knife wound in the side of the head. A trickle of gore had run out of it and dripped down the sunken face and into the grass. It had been killed recently. He lifted his eyes to the trees ahead and squinted into the shadows beneath them. This had to have been you.
His steadiness regained, he searched back toward the road and found another boot print in some soft soil that matched the one he had seen on the road. He returned to the body and easily spotted a narrow, trampled path that led into the woods. He swung his crossbow down off his shoulder, his nerves buzzing.
He’d barely made it under the coolness of the leafy canopy when he came on another walker. This one too had been stabbed in the head with a clean knife wound. There were a few scuffs in the dirt near the body where the confrontation had clearly taken place. He struggled to find your path forward at first. The ground was carpeted in old leaf litter and scattered with patches of herbaceous plants that could easily obscure any marks left by you. But when he finally raised his eyes to look ahead into the distance, he saw more bodies… a string of walkers, unmoving heaps on the ground. He headed straight for them.
What the hell were you doing? You’d come out here after Carol’s obtuse comment to, what? Kill walkers?
Sure enough, these three walkers had also been stabbed in the head, though one must have put up more of a struggle because it had a wound to its abdomen that was spilling a putrid mix of shit and gore onto the ground. Daryl stood and continued deeper into the woods, following your trail on a mere depression here and a broken twig there. The afternoon was wearing away into evening now and he was getting worried. He needed to find you before it got dark. Tracking on this ground by the beam of his light would be far too difficult and he didn’t like the thought of you out here in the dark, alone somewhere. What if you’d gotten hurt and couldn’t get back? What if you couldn’t find a safe place? What if you’d run into trouble you didn’t expect? No. He had to find you.
After a while, Daryl didn’t need to search for the scarce marks you’d left behind anymore. He simply had to follow the trail of bodies. They were becoming more and more frequent and the clusters were varying now from single walkers to six at a time and everything in between, all stabbed. His heart was starting to race with adrenaline. He’d lost count of how many corpses you’d put down and there was still no clear sign of you. Dusk wasn’t far off. He urged himself to move faster.
Suddenly, he came on a walker that hadn’t been completely put down. It was still clawing at the earth, digging its skeletal fingers into the ground as it tried crawl toward him. This was prevented, however, but the upper body being completely separated from the lower. It looked crushed, or perhaps it had just decayed that way and fallen apart.
Daryl stabbed his knife into its skull with a swift and skillful motion and the low growls ceased. He squinted around into the trees. “Y/N?” he called out as loudly as he dared. It seemed to echo in his ears but die only a few feet away from him, stopped as if by some invisible force that swallowed the sound. The air felt suddenly thick and tense.
More growls sounded up ahead and Daryl rushed forward to meet a tall thin walker ambling his way. There was a deep slash to one side of its neck, deep enough that the head was bent at an odd angle in the opposite direction. It staggered and let out a loud snarl as it reached for him but he raised his bow and fired a bolt straight into its forehead. It fell with a thud and laid still among two other bodies.
He didn’t like this. All these bodies and then suddenly two that were left alive? His stomach twisted. “Y/N?” he called again, a little louder this time. He heard nothing in the crushing silence of the woods except for the occasional rustle of leaves overhead or in the understory.
He tried his hardest to swallow the constriction in his throat, but it didn’t seem to do much. Moving forward again, the trees began to open up slightly and the ground became grassier. In the waning daylight he first saw a looming shape that then materialized into a rundown trailer house. He quickened his pace but was soon stopped by the sheer number of scattered walkers in the overgrown yard. There was a tremendous amount, some even piled on top of one another. He felt a rush of panic. “Y/N?!” he called out, making for the house, stepping over one corpse after another. He burst in through the partially open door, which rebounded with a sharp bang.
There was a rising snarl and clattering sound and a couple still upright walkers lunged toward him from one of the rooms, but he put them down with a skillful shot from his crossbow and thrust with his knife. Please don’t let her be in here. Please. The inside of the house was putrid with the telltale signs of a long occupation by the undead. Daryl searched each room, his apprehension somehow growing with every door he opened, but he found no sign of you inside. You weren’t in here. You weren’t.
At least relieved that you weren’t in that nightmarish house, though still on edge, Daryl returned to the yard. “Y/N?!” he called again. He paused to set another bolt in the flight groove of his crossbow. When he looked up again, his eyes landed on something ahead that was entirely out of place among the bodies.
He paced over to it slowly, afraid of what he might find. He felt suddenly shaky and his hands gripped his crossbow too tight.
There on the ground at his feet was your pack.
He knelt beside it and turned it over. It was intact, but splattered with walker blood and gore. At least there was no sign of your blood—no bright, shocking crimson stains.
There was a depression in the grass beside it, just a small one, and he touched it thoughtfully before raising his eyes and scanning the ground ahead. There. A glint of silver. His breath caught between his lungs.
Your knife.
Daryl rushed over to where it was lying in the grass. It was covered with blood, and some of it on the blade seemed too red to be from the walkers. “Shit,” he said out loud, gripping the handle and turning it over in his hands. He shot up to his feet and nearly whirled around frantically. “Y/N!” Where could you be? You’d lost your gear and your knife. It was almost night. And you might be injured.
He didn’t understand this riddle… the fresh, living blood on your knife. He pressed forward, his eyes darting from one corpse to the next. He wasn’t sure he was even breathing. He was so afraid that one of the figures would be you. “Y/N!” he yelled again, the loudest yet. “Y/N, if ya can hear me—” He stopped short as he rounded the back corner of the house. There was a small garden shed in the corner of the yard. The door was shut tightly. He gulped.
Pushing down the nauseous feeling in his stomach and ignoring the tightness in his chest, he paced toward it. When he reached the door, he stared at it for a long moment. Half of him was telling him not to open that shed—that whatever he was about to find in there wasn’t something he should see. But the other half was screaming all the louder that you were going to be fine and you were in that fucking shed and he was going to get to you and fix whatever the hell this was…
He reached for the handle and popped the latch which resounded with a heavy metallic clunk. The bottom of the door scraped and groaned on the plywood floor but it finally bounced open wide enough for him to peer inside.
His breath caught in his throat and his heart jumped upward, rising, and then sinking again as he fully absorbed what he was seeing.
There you were, sitting in a tight ball on the floor among the dirty, dusty, spider-web draped pots and rusty garden tools. Your arms were wrapped tightly around your legs and your chin almost rested on your knees. Your eyes looked up at him from behind layers and smears of walker blood and dirt, wide and fearful.
Swallowing nervously, he pushed the door open wide to let more of the dimming light in. “Hey…” he said softly, as gently as he could. “Hey, Y/N. I’ve been lookin’ for ya.”
You hardly reacted. Your eyes simply dropped back toward the floor.
Daryl moved slowly and deliberately, immensely worried about the fragile state you seemed to be in. He leaned his crossbow up against the open door and swung his pack down. He crouched low so he was on your level. “Are—are ya hurt?”
You didn’t move, didn’t even acknowledge the question.
He chewed anxiously on his bottom lip for a long moment. “Y/N? Can ya look at me?” He edged closer to you, kneeling in front of you. “Jus’ look at me. Please?”
Slowly, your eyes lifted to his face and he saw that they were brimming with tears.
“Hey—s’okay. S’alright. ‘M righ’ here. Yer okay,” he said, nodding. He felt like a bubble had formed in his chest. “Are ya hurt? They didn’t—the walkers—tell me they didn’t—”
You shook your head, blinking to try and clear your eyes. It was then that he noticed a scrap of your shirt was tied around one of your hands.
“Can I see?” he asked, gesturing toward your hand.
You bit your bottom lip thoughtfully a moment before you nodded and held it out to him. Daryl carefully unwrapped the makeshift bandage and turned your hand over to see a gash across your lower palm, extending almost to the bottom of your thumb. It was a clean cut, and suddenly the blood on your knife made sense. Perhaps in some struggle, slick with walker blood, your hand had slipped onto the blade and you’d cut yourself. Maybe that was why you’d dropped the knife. The cut started to bleed again as Daryl looked at it, holding your hand flat on his.
“I’ve got some stuff in my bag. I’ll take care’a this.” He reached behind him and tugged his pack forward before digging out the small first aid kit he’d packed. He grabbed his canteen from the side pocket and poured water onto your hand, dabbing at the cut with a clean bit of gauze and flushing it thoroughly. Then he dried it as best he could and applied some ointment before wrapping the whole thing with a fresh gauze pad and bandage. You were still as stone as he tended to you. “Anythin’ else?” he drawled softly when he was satisfied.
You shook your head, looking suddenly exhausted. “No. My shins are pretty banged up but—I’m okay. It’s just that.”
Daryl was relieved to hear you say anything, even if your voice was a little quiet and shaky. He nodded again. His eyes flitted over your figure, still hunched in front of him in a way that made you look smaller than you were. “Can—can ya tell me what happened? I mean, I followed the bodies here but—”
Your eyes dropped again and you pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth again.
Daryl hesitated a moment and then steadily moved to sit beside you in that small space. He didn’t know what to say, turning words over and over in his head, trying to figure out which were the right ones. Finally, he broke the silence. “‘M sorry… ‘bout what Carol said to ya. She doesn’t know what—what happened to ya before, what ya went through outside, ya know?”
You shook your head. “It’s not her fault.”
Daryl glanced at you beside him and hated the filth coating your skin. He shifted and grabbed his canteen again, pulling his bandana from his pocket next and waiting until you met his eyes. “Can I clean ya up a bit?” he asked hesitantly.
You met his eyes for a long moment and for some reason his tension eased. Maybe it was because yours were looking less wild now, less desperate and fearful. You nodded in response to his question and he poured some water onto his bandana and began to mop gently at the splatter on your cheek and forehead. Your eyes closed at the touch of the fabric and a long, quiet exhale escaped from between your lips. His touch was grounding, rooting you back in the present in a way you hadn’t been since—
“Can ya tell me what happened?” he asked again. “ S’alrigh’ if ya can’t.” He poured more clean water onto his bandana and dabbed at a splotch near your jaw.
“Carol said that to me and I thought—she’s right. I just needed to do it. I thought I’d just prove to myself that I could still be—still be out here.”
“Mmm,” Daryl hummed, pausing to study your expression.
“I started killing walkers. And then there were more and more and I just followed the trail. And at first I was just so angry,” you said, ducking Daryl’s gaze and running a hand over the bandage on your palm thoughtfully. “I just wanted to put them all down, you know? I wanted to kill every fucking walker in the whole world. I was just so angry.” Your voice broke slightly and you shook your head, your eyes filling with tears again that stung and blurred your vision. “Then there were more and more and I—stupidly, I just kept following them. Then there were so many.” You looked up at him with wide eyes. “I didn’t know that house was full. And they broke out through the door. And it was like a—a flood of them all closing in around me.” You paused to try and gain control of your breathing again, it had grown rapid and shallow with the swelling anxiety as you remembered.
Daryl’s brow was heavily furrowed over his bright blue eyes, but they were soft. He found a clean area of his bandana and poured a little more water on it, lifting his hand again to smooth away a smear on your chin.
You stared at him during this tender moment and felt some dam break in you, some last wall came crumbling down. He’d come after you. He’d noticed you missing and he’d followed. He’d tracked you all the way here from Alexandria. Your heart swelled for him.
“I was killing as many as I could and then—I—the flashbacks hit me—I think,” you paused and drew in a staggered breath, “I don’t know if it was the blood or the smell or the sounds—but I was seeing it all over again, like it was really happening. I was seeing them ripping apart my family after the outbreak and then—they weren’t walkers anymore all of a sudden, they were those men that—that—”
“S’okay,” Daryl interrupted you. “Ya dun gotta say anymore. I know…”
You leaned your head back and shut your eyes, waiting for your heart and breathing to slow again. Daryl watched you carefully and waited until your eyes opened again and you looked at him. He gulped. “‘M sorry. ‘M sorry that happened to ya, all of it. And ‘m sorry Carol said what she said. She was outta line.”
You shook your head, your posture finally uncurling from that tense, protective ball. “No. She couldn’t know. She doesn’t. It’s not her fault. It was stupid of me to leave the walls alone. I knew this could happen, the flashbacks, you know. But what she said—it triggered something in me…”
Daryl nodded and returned to his canteen and the bandana and his gentle ministrations to clean the blood and dirt from your skin.
“I just don’t want people to think—” you broke off again, biting your bottom lip.
“Think what?” he asked, mopping gently at a smear of walker blood on the side of your neck.
“That I’m… useless. Helpless,” you said, ducking your head. “I don’t want to be a burden.”
Daryl pulled back with the cloth and looked at you for a long moment before he sighed. “It don’t matter what people think, alrigh’? Most of the damn time they’re gonna think what they wanna anyway, with or without proof. But ya aren’t useless and ya sure as shit ain’t helpless. I dunno how many of those walkers ya killed today but it was a lot. Ya know how to fight. But none of that matters, even if ya didn’t. If ya never leave the walls again, it don’t matter. If ya freeze up,” he shrugged, “it don’t matter. Ya got people back there now who will—will protect ya. S’okay.”
You met his eyes as they searched your face and you felt a jolt of electricity run up your back.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Gabriel called down to Eric at the gate. “It’s Daryl and Y/N! Open up!”
The sun was nearly gone and darkness was falling in the deep shadows beneath the trees, but you’d made it back, walking side by side, to Alexandria. Your pack was on your back again and your knife was in its sheath. Besides being filthy, no one would know what had happened outside the walls.
Carol was suddenly there, having climbed down the ladder and waited for the two of you to step through the gate. She was wringing her hands a little nervously. “Y/N—I’m so glad you’re okay. I’m sorry for what I—”
You gave her a small smile and interrupted. “It’s okay,” you said. “But—you should know that I do know how to fight.”
“She dun need lessons,” Daryl said. “Just ‘cause somebody don’t, doesn’t mean they can’t.”
Carol nodded, a little perplexed, and eyed the blood all over your clothes and noticed the clean bandage on your hand. “Are you alright?”
“Just need a few stitches and a shower,” you said with a nod. “I’m fine.”
“C’mon,” Daryl said, nudging his head in the direction of the clinic. The two of you started off again but Carol stopped Daryl again.
“Are we… okay?” she asked nervously. “I’m sorry that I assumed—”
He put a friendly hand on her shoulder and nodded, giving her that signature little Daryl smile. “We’re good. Forget it.”
Carol breathed a sigh of relief and her eyes flickered back to you waiting for him a short distance away. “What happened?”
Daryl shrugged. “Nothin’. She was just… killin’ walkers. See ya later.”
“Well, I‘m glad you found her. It’s almost dark,” Carol said. Daryl nodded. Carol returned his goodbye and watched the two of you fade down the street. All’s well that ends well, she thought. But she knew now there was much more to this story.
Daryl stayed with you while Denise stitched up your hand and made sure there would be no lasting damage, except maybe a bit of lost sensation on that area of your palm. You were ready to be home when she was finished and Daryl walked with you down the dark sidewalks and stopped alongside you at your front door. You turned and gave him a somewhat abashed, small smile. “Thank you. For coming after me today. I might still be in that shed if you hadn’t.”
He nodded. “‘Course. ‘M just glad that yer okay. I was—worried,” he drawled. That would didn’t even begin to encapsulate his feelings. He shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other, trying hard to ignore the fluttering sensation in his stomach.
Your top teeth dimpled into the softness of your full bottom lip and you considered him for a moment. “Did you, umm, want to come in? I need to grab a shower but then I suspect sleep may be hard to come by tonight.”
Did he want to come in? Fuck yes, he wanted to come in. He managed a nod and followed you inside, the sturdy door shutting out the night behind him.
Could something good really come out of so much fear and anxiety? It seemed, perhaps, that it could.
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hanasnx · 23 days
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MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem reader | dirty flirting | suggestive material | it’s not dubcon, it's just you and deadpool's dynamic.
Like a stray cat, a mercenary hangs around your neighborhood. At first he was cute, you'd leave some food out for him, he'd hit on you shamelessly and in a million different shades of dirty, and then you wouldn't see him for six months. It got old quick, especially because he didn't care that you weren't interested. As if flirting with you was a hobby, he didn't mind that he wasn't getting anything out of it besides your irritation.
It's late, but you might as well take your trash out. You didn't bother to cover up when it's hot and humid out. In a crop top and the littlest shorts you own, you step out, immediately greeted with the familiar tune of DEADPOOL's voice.
"Braless—brave." he notes, and you slump in place, turning to see how he lays precariously on the railing of the fire escape. He gestures to his own chest with a flourish of gloved fingers, "Me too. Burn 'em, I say. The 70's were good for something." He nods his head.
You sigh through your nose, dropping your bag to let it sag pathetically on the asphalt. "What do you want, Red? Blowing through my part of town coincidentally again?"
"Oh, no coincidence, sugar." he tsks, and wags a finger at you before gracefully swinging off the railing to flip to the ground. You roll your eyes at his showmanship, and retreat to the backdoor of your apartment building, followed leisurely by the Merc. "Can't a guy say he missed you? Visit suddenly without calling? Golly, a man can't partake in a little light stalking these days."
You round on him, pointing a warning finger in his mask when you catch him watching your tits swing under your shirt. "Nips are hard. Excited to see me?" he asks with enthusiasm, meeting your gaze and you guffaw at him, taken aback with a hand on your hip. "Turn around, lemme see the back again—"
"'Excited?' What part should I be looking forward to? Your outdated jokes or when you make passes at me until you get it all out of your system?" You lean forward, gesturing to your enunciating mouth. "Read my lips, Red, it's- not- happening." Unknowingly, you'd lowered your voice, that sultry tone lulling Deadpool into your direction like a pie on a windowsill.
"Oh, baby, if you could see my face, I'm grinning under this mask right now." he confesses, chuckling under his breath. "Love it when you play hard to get." He straightens to his full height, sighing with relief. "Your place or mine?"
"Red—"
"Seriously, you gotta give me a twirl or something, I'm getting blue balls over here. You take a little stroll in your little jammies and I've got a halfie, throw me a bone."
You scoff at his audacity, as fat and veiny as always, and back away. "I'll see you next time, Red."
"Hopefully you'll see this boner next time, it'll be waving to you like a flagpole flying my tighty-whities." he calls after you. He knows he's exhausted his welcome this time, there'll be another opportunity soon enough.
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Hi Kat! I’m in loooove with Elementary. Do you think perhaps you could write about Sarah/ reader bonding where reader helps her with periods, or something like that, where Joel maybe feels a little out of depth (he’d try his best, i think)? I’m sorry if i’m overstepping!! It’s just a thought I had, feel free to disregard, obviously. Love all of your work!
Out of My Depth
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pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x sarah’s teacher!reader
rating: M (talks of periods, joel being a clueless man who means well, fluff city basically)
wc: 1.8k
series masterlist
“Hey, is everything okay?” You met Joel at the front door of his home, a frantic look of concern on your face as you searched his. He’d called you up just a little bit ago and asked you to come over because there was an emergency with Sarah, and without asking any questions, you got in your car and drove over. “Where’s Sarah? Is she—“
“Calm down, baby,” he breathed out a chuckle. “Sarah’s alright, she just…well, she…started her you know what for the first time, and I—“ Joel was interrupted by the sound of your laughter, his eyes fixed on you as you doubled over, cackling at the fact that at his ripe age of 34 years old, he couldn’t utter the word “period”. “Alright, ha-ha. Go on and laugh at me, but I didn’t know what to do! I’m out of my depth here.”
“Oh, baby,” you cooed, a grin still on your face as you cupped his cheek. “Where is she?”
“Upstairs in the shower. Didn’t know what else to do so I told her to go have a hot shower,” he chuckled, sheepish about his lack of knowledge on this front.
“Do you have any pads? Tampons? Anything?” you asked. Joel shook his head and sighed.
“I thought we had a few more years until we had to worry about all this,” he admitted, scratching his neck. “Gimme a list of what I need to go pick up and I’ll run down to the drugstore.”
“Okay,” you smiled, endeared by his determination.
Joel walked you inside the house and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from his desk before joining you at the dining table. You had to giggle at his eagerness, his eyes wide as he looked to you for guidance. Pushing his hair back, you gave him a kiss on the forehead before beginning to list off the basics: pads for the daytime, maxi-pads for the evening, a box of regular tampons in case she wanted to try that out, some midol, a heating pad, and most importantly, chocolate.
“Jesus,” he whistled at the list, shaking his head. “Like preppin’ for a damn surgery.”
“Yeah, it’s not a fun time,” you chuckled. “Alright, you go out and I’ll wait for Sarah to get out of the shower. Think we gotta go over a few things that I’m sure neither of you want to go over together.”
“Thank you,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss you deeply. “Seriously. You didn’t have to do this.”
“I love you and I love her,” you assured. “It’s no problem at all. I know I’ll never replace her mom and I would never want to. But if I can offer my help and love, I want to, as long as both of you will have me.”
“I’m not plannin’ on shooin’ you off anytime soon,” he smirked, pulling you close for another kiss. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. Now go on, you’ve got a hefty shopping list to get through.”
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With Joel out of the house, you waited patiently for Sarah to make her way out of the shower by sitting across the hall in Joel’s bedroom. You managed to find a spare pad in your car’s glovebox, and held the plastic-wrapped square in your hand, ready to hand it over as soon as she emerged.
“Dad?” she called from her bedroom and you quickly stood up and walked into the hall.
“Hey, your dad went out to buy some stuff for you,” you called into her room. The door was cracked open but you didn’t want to intrude. “I have a pad here for you, though.”
“Thanks,” she gave you a meek smile as she opened the door. “How do I…use it?”
“It’s pretty uncomplicated. Just take it out of the wrapper and put the sticky side down on your underwear. You’ll get the hang of it the longer you use ‘em.” You handed the pad over and Sarah accepted it, flipping it around in her hand. “I’ll be downstairs. Have you eaten?”
“No, dad was gonna cook but then—“ she looked embarrassed. “Then it happened.”
“No worries,” you assured. “I’ll call in a pizza. How do you want it?”
“Pepperoni with extra cheese,” she was quick to answer, making you chuckle. “Oh, and dad likes his with jalapeños.”
“Good to know,” you made a mental note of Joel’s pizza order. “I’ll do half with jalapeños.”
“Thanks,” she spoke sincerely. “For all of this.”
“Trust me, I get how scary this is,” you gestured to the pad. “And I know it’s not the easiest thing to talk about with your dad, so, if you have any questions, I’m happy to answer them.”
“Oh, I only have about a thousand, starting with, ‘Is it always so bloody?’” You laughed and scrunched your face up in empathetic disgust.
“Unfortunately, yeah. But you’ll get better about handling it as you go,” you eased her worry. “How about you and I go through some more of these questions downstairs while we wait for your dad?”
“I’d appreciate that,” she smiled.
Downstairs, you called up the pizza place that Joel had a magnet menu from stuck into his fridge, throwing in one of their cookie-pie desserts knowing that Sarah would appreciate it. Sarah joined you on the sofa a few minutes later, dressed in her pajamas and a throw blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
“So, how long does this last?” she asked over the quiet hum of a Fresh Prince of Bel Air rerun.
“About a week. Some girls are blessed and only have to deal with a couple days of this, but it lasts about seven days for me,” you replied. “It also changes the longer you have it. Your period is gonna be really unpredictable for the first few months because your body is still adjusting to all these new hormones and stuff. Make sure you always keep a pad or two on you these next few months because it might strike whenever.”
“God,” she groaned. “I wish I was a boy.”
“That would be easier,” you agreed.
“You should’ve seen my dad’s face when I stood up and there was blood on my jeans,” she chuckled, her simples reminding you of her father. “I think he almost had a heart attack.”
“Poor guy,” you laughed. “When he called me up, he was so scared. I think he thought he had way more time to come to grips with the fact that you’re getting older.”
“If getting older means all this, I’m not sure I want to,” she groaned.
“Amen, sister.”
Joel’s key turning the lock of the front door caught both of your attention, your heads turning in his direction as he stepped inside the house. He eyed both of you hesitantly before cracking a sheepish smile.
“Hey,” he greeted. “Everything…okay?”
“Yeah, just giving her the run down,” you replied with a smile. Joel nodded and looked to Sarah as he made his way over to the sofa, sitting down in the space between the two of you.
“Alright,” he started, opening one of the plastic shopping bags he’d carried inside. “Got everything on the list except for a heating pad. We’ll have to get that in the mornin’.”
“Cool,” she gave her dad a smile and lowered her eyes to the shopping bag.
“Alright, so,” he looked to you for help as he started to go through what he bought. “Got some different pads, I don’t know—“
“These are good for daytime,” you aided his explaining, pointing at the package of smaller pads he held up. “Less bulky so you’ll feel better about walking around in them.”
“Okay,” she nodded and accepted the pack into her lap. Joel lifted another pack labeled as ‘overnight’.
“These are better for sleeping. They’re longer and hold more blood.” Both of them shuddered at the word as it left your lips, making you chuckle. “Everybody bleeds,” you reminded. “Women just bleed more often.”
“You’re right,” Joel gathered his composure and tried to be an adult about the situation, though you could clearly see his head spinning over the fact that his baby girl was growing up. “I also got you some…tampons,” he forced the word out of his mouth like it tasted bitterly. “In case—“
“I think I’m good,” she chuckled.
“Respect,” you nodded, offering her an amused smile.
“This is some medicine for your cramps and stuff,” Joel handed her the box of Midol and you noticed his hand was shaking. “Also got you this,” he handed her a bag of assorted chocolate candies, Sarah’s eyes lighting up at the sight.
“I get chocolate?” she beamed, earning a laugh from both of you.
“Yep,” he nodded, eyes flickering to yours. “Oh, there’s one more thing, but it’s in the truck. Gimme a minute.”
Joel got up and walked back outside while Sarah got up to put her new things away upstairs, leaving you alone on the sofa.
When he returned, he carried a toddler-sized teddy bear in one hand and two bouquets of brightly colored carnations in the other.
“Where’s baby girl?” he asked, looking boyish with his smile.
“Upstairs,” you smirked before tipping your head towards the flowers. “Nice touch.”
“Glad you thought so,” he approached you on the couch and plopped down beside you, setting the bear and one of the bouquets in Sarah’s seat before handing you the other. “These are for you.”
“Baby,” you cooed, a touched frown on your face as you accepted the flowers, lifting them to your nose. “What’s this for?”
“For being here,” he replied, soft and sweet. “But mostly just because I love you.”
“Don’t make me cry,” you ordered, playfully stern. Leaning over, you pressed your lips to his in a quick but deep kiss. “I love you.”
“Are those for me?” Sarah beamed as she walked into the room, pointing at the bear and flowers. Joel nodded and patted the seat beside him, welcoming his daughter into his side. “Thanks, dad.”
“No problem, baby girl,” he leaned over and placed a kiss on her forehead, his arm draping over her shoulder to pull her into his side. “How ‘bout a movie?”
“Sounds good,” Sarah replied. “Oh, when does the pizza get here?”
“Pizza?” Joel turned to you with eager interest.
“With jálepeños and extra cheese,” you noted, delighting in the way his smile turned into a grin.
Joel shook his head at you as though he was amazed by you and reached over to lace his fingers with yours, mouthing a sinful promise for the evening to come. But for now, the three of you sat there on the couch, curled up, bellies full of pizza and sweets, all content with the family you’d become seemingly overnight.
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wileys-russo · 3 months
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Writing prompt! - if you still want them :)
Alanna Kennedy, reader is Lanni K’s gf and is collecting the panini stickers “I can’t believe I didn’t make the book babe” Jealous Lani girl as you stick all the other players in 🥹
Just purely bc I’m still not over the fact my girl hasn’t got a sticker 💔
panini II a.kennedy
“babe! you here?” you heard the blonde call out as she let herself into your apartment with the key you'd gifted her not too long ago, perking up from your spot on the lounge and pausing the tv calling out a greeting as her footsteps made their way toward you.
“oi! you promised we’d watch that together you snake.” alanna protested with a frown seeing you were catching up on last nights big brother episode.
“did you get them?” you ignored her comment and propped yourself up on your knees eagerly leaning against the back of of the lounge. “oh hi lani how was your day? how are you? how was training? i missed you so much. i love you so much.” your girlfriend mocked as you rolled your eyes.
“alanna did you get them or not!” you huffed as she let out a sigh, reaching into the training bag which was still slung over her shoulder. “don't you alanna me. but of course i did, you only texted me seven reminders today about them.” the blonde chuckled pulling her arm out of her bag holding the packs in hand as your eyes lit up.
“gimme!” you made grabby hands at her as she took a few steps closer. “mmm but you gotta pay for em first babe.” the defender smirked holding them purposefully out of reach and looming over you. “lani!” you groaned as she stretched her arm up higher.
“sorry darlin i don’t work for free.” alanna grinned, tapping her lips expectantly as you looked up at the sticker packs with a frustrated frown.
with another roll of your eyes you leaned up and pecked her lips, whining as she didn’t lower her hand. “what! that’s it? that’s all my hard work is worth to you? a teeny tiny peck?” alanna protested with a shake of her head.
"what hard work? you got these for free off hempo all you had to do was open your bag and she dropped them in!" you laughed shoving at her shoulder.
“well after that comment the price just went up, and i know you can do much better then that babe.” alanna tapped her lips again puckering them as you sighed at her dramatics.
standing up on the lounge so you were closer to her height her hand now darted behind her back still holding the stickers out of reach. one hand on the back of her neck the blonde fell forward a little as you pulled her mouth to meet your own.
you wasted no time taking advantage of her surprise and sliding your tongue into her mouth, a small thud heard as the defender dropped everything in her hands to grab your hips almost yanking you off the lounge entirely as your hands moved to her shoulders to steady yourself.
right as alanna readied herself to whisk you off toward the bedroom you pulled away suddenly with a gentle smack, leaving a tiny trail of spit hanging from the blondes lips which you wiped away with the pad of your thumb.
"consider the debt settled baby." you patted her flushed cheeks lightly with a smug smile, jumping over the back of the lounge and nimbly landing on your feet.
collecting the packets from the floor you hurried back to the lounge and took a seat, swiping your book from where it sat beneath the coffee table and wiggling around to get comfortable as your girlfriend finally pulled her head from the clouds.
"you cannot seriously have just kissed me like that and moved on like it was nothing." the taller girl spoke in bewilderment as you merely shrugged, already tearing off the wrappers as you rifled through the small mountain of panini stickers sat in your lap.
"babe thats just made me so horny." alanna retorted bluntly, dropping herself down onto the lounge beside you as you felt her eyes stare holes into the side of your head. "go take a cold shower then kennedy you're not getting anything anytime soon." you warned, letting out an excited gasp as finally you found a sticker which wasn't a double up.
"you and those fucking little stickers i'll kill caitlin for getting you into them." your girlfriend grumbled with an unhappy scowl, arms crossed as she sank deeper into the cushions. "oh that reminds me! she was after a few of my double ups, when do you play arsenal again?" you pushed your hips up to grab your phone from the back pocket of your sweats.
"lani? did you hear me?" you looked up from your phone with a raised eyebrow, corners of your mouth curling into a smile at the frustrated pout which stared right back at you. "are you seriously giving me the silent treatment because i won't have sex with you right now?" you smiled in amusement as the blonde scoffed.
"no! i'm pissed off that ever since you started collecting those stupid stickers i, your super sexy very loving girlfriend, is treated no differently than merely a piece of furniture." alanna huffed, scowl deepening as your smile widened.
"are you jealous because you didn't get a sticker baby?" you pouted back at her, moving the stickers gently off your lap and moving to climb into hers as her arms remained crossed over her chest.
"no! i don't want to be a shitty panini sticker they're lame as anyway." alanna rolled her eyes but you saw right through it. "you know i have hundreds of double ups lani i could always make you a sticker of your own." you offered, hands massaging at the tension in her shoulders.
"would you?" your girlfriend asked quietly, uncrossing her arms as her hands came to rest on your thighs, features softening. "of course, if you ask me nicely." you grinned, leaning in a little.
"i don't work for free." you mocked her earlier words, tapping your lips as she rolled her eyes but there was a ghost of a smile on her own. "you drive a hard bargain kid." the australian sighed, pulling you even closer with a shake of her head.
"i think you'll find i'm an excellent saleswoman." you closed the gap between you, locking your lips against hers in a kiss that once again quickly became heated and once more you pulled away far too soon for alanna's liking, leaning back with a smirk as she chased your lips.
"i wasn't joking baby, no sex yet. i have stickers to tend to!" you moved off her lap and back to your previous spot, starting to separate your double ups away from the ones you needed to put into your book.
you ignored the many deep and dramatic sighs from the blonde beside you who eventually gave up with a groan and pressed play on the episode you'd been watching before, laying down so her head was resting against your leg as you happily continued with your stickers.
"i can't believe i didn't make the book babe." you glanced down at the footballer whose eyebrows furrowed unhappily, moving them apart with your fingers teasingly and bending down to tenderly kiss her forehead.
"i know love, but you'd make my book any day."
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