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#I’m getting better at line/colors >:D

tootiecakes234 · 4 months

Text

Warning: NSFW

Character aged up

You ask Katsuki if you can paint his PP🤭:

“No! Get the hell away from me!” And he starts walking away from you.

“But Katsuki! I’d make it so pretty. I already have a vision in mind. I want to paint it into a microphone! Maybe sing a song into it.” You say following behind him, positive you aren’t helping your situation.

“Y/N if you don’t get away from me right now, we are breaking up. I’m packing my shit and leaving and you’ll never see me ever again! I meant it.” And he plops down on the couch with an exaggerated groan. “You’ve lost your entire fucking mind, smooth brain.”

You know you’re gonna have to grovel for this one. You try to slide yourself onto his lap, but he pushes you off and you bounce a little on the couch cushions.

“No, you’re not kissing and snuggling your way into this. I’m not letting you practice your goddamn painting skills on my dick. Where do you even come up with this shit?” He says now looking at you with wide, concerned eyes.

“Well I was scrolling on TikTok-“

“And there it goes. I’m not even surprised.”

You lean over and run your hands over the his wide chest and buff arms.

“‘Suki when you think about, a microphone is only two colors. Black and grey. It would only take me like 5 minutes.” And then you start pressing kisses to his neck. “Pretty please. I’ll even hop in the shower with you after and help you clean up.” There’s a sultry lilt to your voice. This is something you pull out all the weapons in your arsenal for.

“Y/N i go along with a lot of your dumbass ideas, but I’m drawing the line. No paint on my d-dick. Fuck, cut it out.” You had slipped your hands down his stomach and right under the shorts he had on.

“But it’ll be easier to paint if its hard Kat, don’t ya think?” You whisper up against his ear. You run your thumb over the top and smear the precum over his slit.

“Ugghhh. I hate you, you know that.” He groans really low.

“Mmmmhhh. Pretty please,” you say and stroke down to the base of his cock and then back up. “With a cherry on top.”

“You have 10 f-fucking minutes! And that paint better be safe for skin or I swear to god!” He shouts at you.

You’re up and off the couch before he can even finish that sentence and within a minute you’re back with the paint you already had prepared and brushes.

You get down on your knees, in between his legs, and place your supplies on the ground next you. For him to be so against it, he’s already pulled off his shirt and underwear. He’s accepted his fate.

“Okay, if any of the brushes are uncomfortable or the paints don’t feel good, let me know k?” You say looking up at him.

This man has his arms crossed over his chest and he’s glaring daggers into you.

“What the hell ever woman. Hurry up, your time’s tickin.”

So you pick up a big fluffy brush and dip it into the black paint before you start working on the base of his dick.

As soon as the brush touches against his skin Katsuki screams bloody murder. Its scared the hell out of you and you’re surprised at yourself that you don’t drop the damn brush and get paint everywhere.

When you look up at him to ask him what’s wrong the bastard has a smirk on his goddamn face his shoulder are shaking because he’s holding in his laughter.

“You should’ve seen yourself. Your entire body took a screenshot. I thought you might go into shock.” Now he’s outwardly laughing loud as fuck.

He thinks he’s such a comedian. Well too bad for him because we’re a freakin party clown.

While he’s still laughing you bend down and take the head of his cock in your mouth and swirl your tongue all over it.

His laugh is cut short and you look up to see him squeezing his eyes shut. You pull your head back up and give him a sweet smile.

“So now, how about you cut out the jokes and let me focus on my masterpiece.” And you hear him grumble back some kind of rude response but you take that as an understanding.

You breathe and try to gain your composure before you start back on the task in front of you. You again start at the base of his cock and then do long stokes upwards until you get right below the shroomed tip.

You’re about halfway through when you notice his cock twitching and leaking pre all over.

Oh my gosh he likes this. Or it at least feels good because damn. When you look up at him there’s a blush covering his face and his lips are tight like he’s trying to hold in sounds that might escape. His eyes though are trained on the brush in your hand as you work.

You were about to speak when he cut you off, “Don’t. Just hurry up and finish”

“Yes sir” you say slyly as your start working on the other side.

“Ok. Base is done. Now the tip, I know how sensitive you are so I’ll try to be gentle.” And now you’re the one with a smirk on your face. “Look I can’t paint correctly if there’s precum constantly leaking up here.”

“The fuck do you want me to do. I’m not making it leak out on purpose.” He rolls his eyes at, throws his head back and uses his arm to cover his face. Hes not quick enough to cover the blush that’s dusting his cheeks.

It’s so funny that he still get embarrassed in front of you. You take your thumb and lightly run it over the top to pick up as much pre as possible then you pop it in your mouth. Then you get to work.

You dab lightly around it and make sure to avoid the opening. You hear Katsuki’s breath become more ragged.

“Ok, I’m all done. Take a look.” He removes his arms and leans his head back up. You see that his eyes are blown but you try to ignore it for now. “Do you see the vision?”

“This is so dumb.” Is the only answer you get from him.

Next thing you know you’ve wrapped your hand around it and you start singing. “ANNNNDDDDD IIIIIIIII—eeeee-IIIIII will always love Y-“

You’re cut off because he’s gotten up grabbing you with him and now you’re thrown over his shoulder.

“I’m done with this. Not about to watch you sing Karaoke into my penis. You promised me a shower.”he says as he starts striding toward the bathroom.

“But I wasn’t done! I wanted to take pictures and maybe rap a verse or two. Kats wait dammit.”

“No. I was nice. I let you play and have your fun. Now it’s my turn to play around and have some fun.” You can hear the smug grin on his face.

You take this opportunity and slap his naked ass hard asf. You were right outside the bathroom door and the jerk sets you on your feet so quickly you feel like you’re gonna fall.

“You’re gonna pay for that brat.”

And oh do you pay for it.😭

Katsuki Masterlist

Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @i-literally-cant-with-this @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife

*I have a tag list. Let me know if you wanna be added💕🤗

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ask-the-drones · 4 months

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Better late then never!

It’s been 20 days since Christmas. Too late for a holiday post? :’D I’ve been taking a short break from drawing, my wrist and hand weren’t doing too hot so I had to take it easy. But I’m back now! Maybe I’ll color and shade this lined piece later. But for nowww I’ll be getting back to answering asks! :D

#murder drones #uzi doorman #serial designation n #ooc post #ask blog

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satoruin · 3 months

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➣ matchmaking or meddling?

pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader

word count: 1.6K

summary: you find out just how much your students have been meddling in your love life, though you can’t really be mad.

notes from lee: i’m afraid to make this look like an award acceptance speech so ill be brief. had to make a fic for the namesake of the blog and a very late hbd to boo (@2018-01-20). kinda wish i had more interactions with the kids, but i ended up w/ a lot of gojo pov also unedited

Looking back it should have been obvious what these kids of yours were up to. Yes, they were the reason you were in this god-forsaken closet with a blindfolded fool.

You’re only really aware of their meddling now as you hear their snickers from the hallway, so you can’t quite tell when their meddling started. But it makes sense that they were plotting something, but was it in collaboration with Satoru? Because it seemed like every mishap or coincidence between your two classes, Satoru took it in stride and turned it into his advantage. Just like he was taking advantage of the situation now…

Thinking back, your first clue should have been with the sticky notes. A note scrawled on a pink sticky note, in actually legible handwriting, addressed to you like a valentine. Reading, “from: Satoru ;D to: (y/n) <3; do you look this good every day or do i just not remove my blindfold enough????” It’s on top of a stack of papers handed over by the ever-stoic Fushiguro. Surely to get your guard down, and it did.

When you interrogate your fellow teacher about it later, he keeps his normal all-knowing grin plastered on his face. Now they, being the kids who orchestrated it, don’t need to do any work as every day after that there’s a new sticky note somewhere for you to see. They vary in color, most in some shade of pink, some with bad pick-up lines, others with a stick figure drawing, or the very rare ones hidden away with words that make you spit out your drink.

Or maybe another tip off should have been the ‘coincidental’ times you’d have the second years out on the training field and he just so happened to also plan a demonstration for the first years at the same time. But then again you don’t hear their snickering above your irritation at the white-haired man as he lets you jab a finger into his chest, with his annoying smirk.

But they notice you don’t care anymore that he peeks his head over your shoulder to look at your teaching outline just so he can do the ‘coincidental’ planning now.

And still the biggest hint that you fall for every time, is when they leave you at the cafe with just Satoru after begging for a weekend meetup. And again, when they ask to have team dinners, study sessions, or extra training, it's ridiculous. Your gullibility and trust in them is commendable, but it’s become laughable as you still trust in the kids to show up. And they do, just in disguise from across wherever you are as they watch Satoru come to your rescue every time.

Maybe the more ridiculous part is when the rare glimpse of their teacher’s eyes is pointed, peeking through their poorly crafted disguises, at them from across the room with a smirk.

He’s noticed for a while now that the kids are playing matchmaker, and their skills are much better than those his clan hires. And to be honest, he doesn’t mind, if anything he finds it cute that they think he needs the help. Though admittedly they do have some good ideas. Each one never fails to fluster you, in your own cute and angry way, as he takes over their schemes. His six-eyes catch the flurry of texts sent every time he does so, which he’s sure just encourages them further.

Satoru’s not quite sure when his feelings for you developed. He’s always found you attractive, especially when you were his cute kouhai (he still likes to call you that in order to annoy you until you begrudgingly call him senpai once again.). Everything he learns about you only adds to his initial interest. He’s a sucker for getting to know the little things, like your favorite dinner spot after a tough mission or what your ideal day off is. Once you accept his feelings he’ll put the knowledge you deem useless to good work.

But there’s a moment that sits so starkly in his memory as the first time he realized he was in love with you and not just intrigued or infatuated.

It was maybe around the time Tsumiki had gotten sick and though Megumi was self sufficient, Satoru didn’t feel that he should be alone. He knows he’s not the best at comfort, hell he could barely comfort himself, so he sends you.

And he’s not overly worried about you, you’re a teacher so he’s sure you’ll get through to the ever prickly Megumi just fine. Plus you’ve always been significantly better at handling emotional situations, he knows first hand. So when he comes to check on you after finishing his mission, he smiles at your success.

Megumi’s head rests on your lap, asleep, and you’re slumped over the armrest. There’s a twang of jealousy that pricks at his mind, wishing it was him in your lap instead, but all he can think about is having you greet him as he comes home and Megumi and Tsumiki sitting for dinner and that would be yours and his alone.

He’s never felt like someone that would settle down or want a family, especially given the circumstances of his status. But you, in this moment, make him want to move past the shrewdness of the higher ups and his clan, and just have you. He longs for something that is just his, not part of Jujutsu Society, the higher ups, or his clan, or even Satoru Gojo, he wants things just for Satoru, just for him.

You are that something, that someone, he wants, he’s convinced that he needs you like the air he breathes. The weird surge of emotions that have been kept bottled up since a dark day suddenly seems to make sense and it has a name, it’s love.

So when he’s reminiscing on his feelings, it really has been there all along, but it’s that very specific moment in which his love for you was defined.

And the apex of all his work in gently guiding you to realize your feelings, that he’s very sure are there, is in a closet of all places. His blue eyes glow dimly in the dark of the closet with the snickers of his students on the other side.

“Hey,” he breathes out, much less confident than he intended, but you make him nervous.

You meet his bright eyes briefly before looking away and returning the greeting, “Um, hi.”

His breath hitches and his mind blanks, every funny line or flirty remark he could make right now is gone. He can’t think about anything other than you, how cute your expression is, how good your hair looks even slightly messed up, but mainly your lips and how much he needs to kiss you before he leaves this cramped closet. “How are you?”

You blink at him incredulously, “We’re in a closet, Gojo. How do you think I am?”

He tosses his head back and groans as you use his last name, he thought he’d gotten you to call him Satoru like pretty much everyone did. “C’mon (Y/n), you know I hate when you call me that.” He whines and pouts, jutting his bottom lip out like a toddler.

He watches the guilt flash across your face briefly, surely it’s you remembering how he confided in you about hating the weight that came with his last name. “Sorry, I know. I know,” you pause and he senses your hesitancy and waits, “Satoru.”

He’s got a big shit-eating grin on his face that differs from his usual smirk as he rocks on his feet with his heart fluttering.

“You really like it that much when I call you ‘Satoru’?” You ask, eyeing up his body language with a skeptical look.

“Maybe.” He answers in a sing-song tone, he’s back to his usual self, “But you know what I’d like more?”

He leans in close and glances down at your lips. No matter how many times he does this, it always results in him pulling away with a teasing smile. So when he feels your hands wrap around the neck of his uniform and pull him closer, it’s certainly a surprise.

“You want a kiss?” You ask and he nods meekly, if possible, and you do, you kiss him. Satoru’s eyes flutter shut as his heart flutters in his stomach. His big hands reach up to cup your face and keep you glued to his lips. Gods, it’s everything he’s dreamed about and more.

When you part from him to catch your breath, he’s smiling. “I hope you know I want much more than a kiss.” He waits for you to breathe and to watch your reaction before smashing his lips onto yours again.

Satoru feels your arms wrapped around his neck and how your hands crawl through his undercut to tug at his hair. And he’s similar, the hands once holding your face have traced down your body to your hips so he can hold you close.

The knock on the door cuts your time short, your tongues and bodies having to part. Satoru watches as you smooth over your clothes and hair before he pulls up his blindfold. The door opens not a moment later to reveal the two classes waiting with bated breath to see something scandalous.

They are disappointed, fortunately for you and your image as a teacher. None of the students have the time to catch the heavy blush on his face as he slips away while you lecture them. But they do notice how flustered you are when you get a text from Satoru, “dinner 2nite?”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo #jjk #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo #gojo x gender neutral reader #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x y/n #! satoru gojo #[ lee's writing ]#[ + ] jjk

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moonstruckme · 6 months

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hello! :D I'm not sure if your request are open but if they are could you please write about reader and marauders playing a game something like answering questions and if they don't answer they have to drink and reader is asked who they would rather kiss (or something along those lines) out of them all and reader says Remus and they both get all flustered and the rest of the group is teasing them and whatnot and they end up telling each other about their feelings for one another like the next day or something

im sorry if this ask is like all over the place anywhooo thank you so much!<3 i love your writing btw :)

My requests are open babe, thank you!

cw: drinking game

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 837 words

Everything is pleasantly fuzzy, and your laughter bubbles up out of you with scarcely any prompting.

“Alright, alright,” Marlene says, “James, where’s the weirdest place you’ve had sex?”

James hardly hesitates. “Quidditch pitch.”

You slap a palm across your mouth, and your little circle bursts into howling laughter.

“It was really dark, though!” James justifies. “No one would’ve been able to see us if they’d looked. Anyway, my turn.” He looks around the circle, eyes narrowed in mock seriousness. “Pads.” Sirius looks up. “When you said you’d never had sex in my bed, were you lying?”

Sirius presses his lips together, looking suspiciously like he’s suppressing a smile, and drinks.

“Wha—that’s as good as an answer!” James sputters. “You prick, learn some boundaries!”

“No clue what you’re talking about.” Sirius shrugs. “Okay…y/n.” You bite your lip, doing your best to make your eyes look wide and sweet in the hopes he’ll go easy on you. “Of everyone here right now, who would you rather kiss?”

You freeze, trying to keep your gaze from darting to your immediate answer. “I…I don’t know,” you say.

Sirius shakes his head, smirking. “Not good enough, sweetheart.”

“Careful,” Marlene warns, “I don’t know if you can handle drinking much more.”

“Yeah, Pads, just let ‘er off,” Remus says. “Don’t make her sick because of you.”

“All she has to do is answer,” Sirius argues, but it’s alright, because you’ve seen your opening.

You take it. “Remus,” you say, as though the idea has just occurred to you, “because he’s being nicer to me than the rest of you.”

The group erupts in cheers and boos, and Remus’ cheeks color pink.

“Plus,” you go on, emboldened by the warmth of booze in your chest, “he wouldn’t make it weird. None of the rest of you would ever let me forget it.”

“Oi!” James protests. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Yeah, right,” Marlene laughs. “Sirius, who did James kiss last week?”

Sirius tilts his head. “Do you mean on Sunday or Tuesday?”

Marlene smirks.

“Whatever,” James says, but he’s smiling. “You’re all just jealous, Y/N too. Remus, you’d better take good care of this one. She’s got high standards, apparently.”

Now your face is warming too, and Remus nudges you with his shoulder. “It’s your turn, love,” he says. “Get him back.”

You grin. “Excellent idea. James, did you sleep in your bed after you thought Sirius had sex in it?”

James eyes go wide behind his glasses as his cheeks redden, and Remus chuckles beside you.

As usual, it’s you and Remus cleaning up after everyone else has gone to bed. James would typically at least offer to help, but he’s busy patting Sirius’ back as his friend purges everything he drank tonight in the community bathroom. You’d offered to tidy yourself and let Remus go upstairs, but he’d only said “don’t be silly” and started picking up discarded cups alongside you.

“It got a bit much tonight, didn’t it?” you ask, aiming for casual but only hitting awkward.

Remus hums. “I don’t think any more than usual.” He gives you a knowing look, made worse by his tiny smile. “They don’t usually pick on you, though, so I’m sure it felt different.”

You laugh nervously. “I guess so. I can dish it out, but I can’t take it, huh?”

“Well, they make it easy to dish,” he says mildly. “Anyway, it’s like you said. If you’d even said you’d kiss any of them, they’d never’ve shut up about it.”

You tense but nod, bending to dab at a stain of spilled drink someone left in the rug. “Yup. That’s why I picked you.”

“Is that the only reason?”

You turn, and Remus is looking at you evenly despite his flushed cheeks. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he says softly, kindly, “that if they’d asked me, I would’ve picked you too. So I guess I’m just wondering, would you have picked me, if you weren’t worried about everyone teasing you?”

The way he’s looking at you, you know he’s ready to accept whatever answer you give. Remus is watching you curiously, but there’s a bashfulness around his eyes. He wants to know, but he’ll let you off the hook in a second if you indicate that’s what you want.

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “Yeah, I’d pick you.”

Remus looks like the breath goes out of him. He takes a step toward you. “Why?”

“I don’t need a reason,” you admit. Not one that makes sense, anyway. It’s just him.

Remus’ smile is borderline shy. “I’ve got tons.”

“Yeah?” It’s more breath than word.

“Mhm. Wanna hear ‘em?”

“That’s okay,” you say, and rise on your tiptoes, kissing him.

Remus kisses just like you knew he would. Soft and sweet, with little hints of urgency in the press of his hand against your back, the insistent sound he makes in the back of his throat. And you don’t need a single reason to want to kiss Remus Lupin, but you’ve got tons too.

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rallentando1011 · 3 months

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hey so can I get a scenario with rottmnt Donnie where he keeps stealing his lovers purple stuff, he notices them not having purple stuff around anymore and one day they are like “yea so I don’t buy purple anymore. Too much stuff is disappearing. Hmmm I wonder where it keeps vanishing too? “ and they give him a knowing smirk?

Purple Habits Die Hard (rise Donnie x gn Reader)

(Hello! Thank you very much for the requests-I am really enjoying them and promise I’m working through them-

I am open to more requests, guidelines are HERE, and I’m not saying that I specifically would like writing some Donatello angst but yes I absolutely would-

Either way, I hope y’all enjoy!)

Word Count: 1082

You didn’t love him anymore.

That was the only logical conclusion Donnie could reach.

Was he grasping at straws with that hypothesis? Likely. But the fact that there were even straws to grasp in the first place was enough to raise his suspicion.

Data point 1: You hadn’t worn purple in weeks. Not really a commitment, definitely not a symbol of possession, wearing his color was just a symbol that he was in your thoughts. The lack of that implied that he wasn’t plaguing your mind like you did his. At least, that’s what he picked up from it.

Data point 2: You barely invited him to hang out anymore. The last few times you two had seen each other had all been initiated by him, three to be exact, and all of those instances had occurred at the lair. Not your residence, not some fun locale, the lair.

Data point 3: …

Well, to be completely honest, he only had the two. However, how unscientific or illogical his hypothesis was mattered not.

Something was awry.

And he was going to get to the bottom of it.

A text message drew Donnie out of his downward spiral line of reasoning.It was from you, alleging that you were almost to the lair.

Right. He had been so busy plotting and scheming that he nearly forgot the subject of such endeavors, and that he had invited you over for investigation and/or confrontation.

He needed to get ready.

He tugged off the lavender sweatshirt he’d taken from your place a couple of months ago, the chain of your stolen lilac bracelet jangling as he did so.

Oh yeah. He should probably take that off, too.

He didn’t want to seem like a kleptomaniac.

He barely had time to chuck the articles into the deep recesses of his lab and act like he was busy working on some project before you knocked and entered the room.

“Heya, D.” You plopped down on the desk chair adjacent to his seat and spun around once.

His answer was a disinterested hum.

You summed it up as him being busy and started scrolling on your phone before he spoke up.

“My, what an opulent blue shirt you have on.”

That was an odd comment, and were those hints of disdain in his voice? You continued on anyway. “Uhhh, thanks? It’s just a graphic tee, though..?”

“Oh, don’t undersell it. It’s rather nice.”

“...Okay then.”

You weren’t following. He grew frustrated.

“Yes, it is grand, but would it not look in another, similarly shaded cool color?” He prompted.

“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”

His eye twitched. You grinned.

You tilted your chair in his direction, tone lightly teasing. You two indulged in some lighthearted banter here and there, and that’s what you thought that was. “What, are you saying it’d look better in purple? Your color?”

“I’m not saying that I interpret the colors of your clothing symbolically, but yes, I do. You haven’t been wearing any of your purple articles recently, you barely invite me over anymore. You can just admit you don’t enjoy my company.” When his gaze fled to the ground, you realized that he was serious about this.

“Donatello…” you started, dipping your neck down so you could make eye contact. “That is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said. The reason I haven’t been wearing purple is because I don’t have any purple to wear. Something or someone keeps taking all of it. And, coincidentally, more goes missing every time you come over. That’s why I’ve been hanging out here instead.”

Donnie’s mouth was agape. The thought that he was the one causing his own problems hadn’t crossed his mind. Genuinely, thinking about it, it made a lot of sense. The worst enemy you can meet will always be yourself was really ringing true. But he couldn’t let his scientific validity and his dignity die in the same endeavor, so he took the next logical step. Lie.

The softshell swallowed before uncertainly droning, “I haven’t the slightest clue as to what you are implying.”

“I think you’re definitely smart enough to ascertain my implications. And you’re way past smart enough to know that I still love spending time with you even though I’m not wearing a specific color anymore.”

Donnie blinked. Oh. So, you two were cool, and he was actually just being melodramatic. He was still trying to figure out if that was worse than you being sick of him. It probably was. Probably…

However, he couldn’t dwell on that long. Something you said piqued his interest. The thing about the color of your clothing not holding any symbolic weight.

Expression growing subtly smug with the quirk of an eyebrow, he called your bluff. “If you are taking into account my intelligence, then should you not also observe that I am smart enough to discern the correlation between the formation of our partnership and you coming into possession of more purple attire?”

You blinked before countering with a smirk. “How would you know that I bought more purple clothes if I haven’t been able to wear them?”

Oh, Schrödinger. The only way that he would know, and the reason he did know, was because he had taken them

Regrettably, he mumbled. “... I plead the fifth.”

“Oh no you don’t. Public interest takes precedence over your individual rights, sir. Get subpoenaed, sucker!” You perked up in your seat and pointed an accusatory index finger at the man. “Where are my things?”

He crossed his arms.“You have no definitive proof that it was me. Your argument is circumstantial, at best. Good luck defending that in a court of law.”

Your excitement deflated. “Fine, fine. I suppose I must continue on without wearing purple, our color, forever.”

You batted your eyelashes sadly. It was a cheap tactic, but you weren’t afraid to stoop if it meant you could get your regular Donnie- you meant, wardrobe back. Yeah, you missed your clothes, but you missed having him over more. Probably.

It only took a couple more seconds for him to crack. “Sigh… Hey, completely unrelated segue, but could I come over tomorrow?”

“Suspicious timing, but I’ll allow it.”

“Great.”

“This meeting is adjourned.”

Somehow, by some otherworldly force/the magic of guilt tripping, your violet sweatshirts, t-shirts, accessories, gradually began showing up as the weeks went on.

By the same mysterious impetus, their return coincidentally synchronized with Donnie coming over.

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lotusbxtch · 22 days

Text

SoCal to NorCal - Chapter 1: Malibu

Series Masterlist Series Pairing: husband!Joel Miller x afab!Reader x boyfriend!Frankie Morales Series Summary: Joel is your rock, and Frankie is your ocean. So what happens when you bring the three of you together?

- or -

you and Frankie roadtrip up from Southern California to Northern California so he can meet Joel. A polyamory fic. This series exists in the Triple Frontier universe and is a Joel Miller AU/Triple Frontier AU. Series Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, MDNI

Chapter 1: Malibu

Chapter Pairing: Frankie Morales x afab!Reader x Santiago Garcia

Chapter Summary: You & Frankie visit your friend Santi at his Malibu mansion to kick off your roadtrip north, and you let desires guide the night.

Word Count: 6.9k

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, MDNI

Chapter Warnings/Tags: polyamory, threesome, multiple partners, MMF dynamics, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected P in V (wrap it up pls!), DVP, multiple creampies, explicit talk about cum (is a cum kink a thing? a tag I should use? Pls comment with your thoughts lol), spitting, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, gratuitous descriptions of male and female anatomy, heavy use of Spanish pet names/nicknames, Santi being a menace is his own warning, Frankie the PEK, Frankie has a big dick and so does Santi, Reader is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns, Reader is able-bodied, has breasts, and has hair that can be pulled, otherwise no description of Reader's skin color, size, body shape, hair color, eye color, or ethnicity, no use of y/n a/n: This is my very first series fic! I plan to have 3 chapters including this one. This one was meant to be a fun spicy little intro into the fic, but of course Santi being an absolute menace meant that this is absolute smutty filth and I'm sorry (not sorry). MASSIVE thank you to my sweet @for-a-longlongtime, who not only gave me the iconic Santiago line "guava goes better with pussy and mezcal," but beta read for me, bounced ideas around, and encouraged me when I wasn't sure that I could do this. Without Adi's help, this fic wouldn't be in existence! Dividers by the amazing @saradika-graphics, thank you! (Please note that the chapter graphic is NOT meant to be accurate to Reader — vibes only!)

If you enjoy my writing, please leave a comment, feedback or reblog! It would mean the world to me. Thank you!

“I think that should be everything,” you murmur, closing the back of the forest green Jeep. You card a hand through your hair while going over a mental pack list for the third time this afternoon. Behind you, you feel a soft kiss on your shoulder and warm, strong hands envelop your waist.

“You ready to ride then, sweetness?” asks your boyfriend, Frankie. You smile and lean back into his embrace. “Yeah, I’m really looking forward to this trip,” you say, turning to plant a kiss to his aquiline nose, and then another to his plush lips. You both hop into the car; Frankie navigates towards the coast, while small butterflies dance in the pit of your stomach as you think about how the two of you got here.

You and Frankie Morales met six months ago at the Santa Monica airport. In a bid to encourage team bonding, upper management at your job booked a helicopter tour of the Los Angeles skyline. Frankie was the pilot for your chopper. He charmed your group with his charismatic yet humble demeanor and fun factoids about LA, especially you – your coworkers insisted that he kept staring at you when you weren’t looking. But Frankie ultimately beat you to the punch and asked you out for drinks the following night. You accepted, and the rest is history. The attraction was palpable from the get-go, and Frankie’s go-with-the-flow attitude complimented your fiery personality to a T. You adored how detail-oriented he was in all aspects of his life – memorizing your favorite teas, asking about how your projects were going, knowing exactly how to make you see stars in bed with his fingers, his cock, and especially his tongue. You couldn’t deny that Frankie was the perfect addition to your life, and you to his.

Through those first few weeks, you both divulged the more challenging bits of your lives. Frankie told you about his daughter, Isabella, and how his struggle with cocaine almost ruined his life. His relationship with his ex-wife was strained because of it, but they co-parented well - it was their main goal to ensure that Isabella was never put in the middle of their struggles, that she always felt supported and loved by both of her parents. Frankie had lost his pilot’s license after he failed a random drug test, and he took that as a sign to do the work to fix what was broken. He was now two years sober, and back to flying.

You, in turn, revealed to Frankie that he wasn’t the only man in your life. For the last decade, you’ve been with Joel Miller, your husband of seven years. Joel was the steady compass of your soul, the man whose roots intertwined deeply with those of your heart. You’d loved Joel almost your entire life, having grown up in the same neighborhood, although your crush on him was secretive during your childhood. He was your older brother’s best friend from college, a transplant from Texas whose parents moved to the Bay Area when he was a teenager. You ran into him after getting your master’s degree and moving back to the suburbs of San Francisco, and something sparked between the two of you. Since then, you’d been inseparable. When your work requested that you spend a year going between NorCal and SoCal to establish the new Los Angeles area office, you knew it would be a challenge for your relationship. As it turns out, it was only really a challenge for one reason — your sex drive was incredibly high, and sometimes you were apart from Joel for weeks at a time. Phone and video sex worked as well as it could, but it couldn’t beat the real thing. One night, after a particularly frustrating video sex session — all of your toys ran out of juice and you’d left your charger at home, among other things — Joel surprised you by suggesting that you didn’t need to stay monogamous.

“Are you sure, Joel?” you asked incredulously. “You’ve never been one to particularly like sharing.”

Joel huffed a laugh. “Yes, darlin’,” he replied. “Lord knows the new office ended up bein’ more work than either of us thought it’d be. I know how much ‘gettin’ yours’ can be de-stressin’ for ya, and I don’t wanna be the reason you can’t seek it. It’s not like you’d be askin’ someone to move in with us. If it helps you, it makes me happy. And it sure would give my phone battery and hands some relief.” He chuckled as you scoffed in mock indignation. “You don’t have to tell me anythin’ you don’t want to about whoever you get involved with. As long as you’re stayin’ safe and they’re treatin’ you as well as I do, then I’m okay with it.”

You sighed in consideration. “Let me think about it some more,” you said, picking at your rental’s bedspread. “It’s not something I’m going to take lightly.”

And then two weeks later, you met Frankie. Frankie was surprisingly relaxed when you told him about Joel, albeit surprised. He’d hesitated to continue things until you got on the phone with Joel and had him tell Frankie himself. After all, you’d checked with Joel within a few days of meeting Frankie just to make sure Joel was still okay with you being with another man.

You made sure to tell Joel when you’d be seeing Frankie, and Frankie didn’t contact you when you were back home with Joel. It wasn’t that either man wanted to pretend the other didn’t exist; rather, they each wanted to respect the other man’s time with you. Frankie wasn’t seeking marriage or starting a family; he wanted to continue using his time and energy on Isabella and getting his career back on track. And Joel was confident in and comfortable with your marriage in a way that didn’t allow for unseemly jealousy to crop up.

Gradually you told each of them bits about the other one, until one day Joel suggested that the two of them meet. You were game, but wanted to run it by Frankie first.

“He wants to meet me?” Frankie asked, wringing his hands a bit and looking mildly surprised. The two of you had just finished dinner at one of your favorite taco trucks in LA, and you licked the tips of your fingers as you finished your last al pastor taco, the warm, savory spices dancing on your tongue. Frankie took a sip from his Mexican Coke, his plush lips wrapping around the cool aqua glass of the bottle.

You nod your head in affirmation. “Just for a couple of days. We could make a vacation out of it. Joel suggested maybe we road trip up the coast.”

Frankie looked pensive. You don’t blame him, especially when the two men had made a concerted effort to keep their relationships with you separate. “You’re sure you want to do this?” Frankie asked, searching your eyes for any hesitation. You studied those dark chocolate irises, so similar to Joel’s.

“Yes, Francisco,” you confirmed, reaching out across the plastic picnic table to touch his hand. The sounds of the city wrapped around you as the two of you gazed at each other. “Joel has my heart, but so do you. And I want both parts of my heart, my favorites, to be with me at the same time for once.”

“Ok, mi amor, let’s go then,” Frankie said resolutely, bringing up your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your skin.

Your thoughts bring you back to the present, with Frankie’s one-hand grip on the steering wheel and the warm coastal sun beaming through the windshield. The windows are down, allowing the salty sea air to filter through the Jeep. He flips on his turn signal and begins driving through a particularly posh part of Malibu. Giant mansions dwarf the street, pristine lawns and modern, open-glass architecture rolling by as you continue on. You let out a low whistle.

“Jesus Christ, what the hell does Santi do again to afford this?” you ask Frankie, eyes flicking to and from each house you pass by.

“Nothing,” Frankie chuckles. “When we got the money from that final mission that Santi and I went on, he invested the entirety of his share into the stock market. Well, almost everything.” He snorts at the champagne Range Rover in Santi’s driveway as the two of you pull up. Frankie, on the other hand, put the majority of his earnings into a trust fund for Isabella. The rest he used to set himself up comfortably but modestly. “Santi still does some consultant work for private security firms, but he just keeps reinvesting the money and using it to buy property and fund charity work,” Frankie explains.

“Can’t say I blame him, it’s a pretty solid strategy,” you respond, taking in the splendor of Santi’s Malibu abode as Frankie parks his Jeep. The three-story home is minimalist and modern on the exterior, with a combination of cool beige stone and warm wood paneling. No other houses are on either side of the building, so the property was ulta-private, and even had its own beach. As the two of you unpack your bags from the car, you hear a wolf whistle shriek from somewhere around the corner. Jumping slightly, you turn and then smile as Santiago Garcia strolls barefoot out of the house, his pale linen slacks and caramel vintage ribbed polo shirt fluttering lightly against his muscular frame in the sea breeze.

“Hey pendejo, you finally made it!” Santi yells to Frankie, then turns to you with a “hi, hermosa,” and a kiss to your cheek. You wrap your arms around Santi’s torso, inhaling his sandalwood and cinnamon scent and giggling a hello. Frankie walks up, bags in hand, and tries to ruffle Santi’s perfectly coiffed curls. Santi dodges him and then goes in for a bear hug; Frankie smiles broadly as they rock side to side before clapping each other on the back.

“Good to see you, hermano, and thanks for letting us stay with you,” Frankie says warmly as he picks up your luggage and the three of you head towards the house.

“Not a problem, I’m in town for a consulting gig and figured it’d been awhile since we’d gotten together,” Santi responds ahead of you. You and Frankie follow him into the open-concept common area, admiring the sleek countertops, stainless steel fixtures, and plush yet subdued furniture. Light neutrals rule the color palette, with plenty of floor-to-ceiling windows to allow natural light in. You run your hand over the back of a velvet lounger, indulging in the texture against your fingertips. Frankie goes to the bedroom to drop off your luggage, while Santi starts pulling things out in the kitchen for dinner prep. Continuing towards the back of the house, you push open the sliding glass doors, letting fresh air in while you admire the view from the balcony. Below, the azure waves caress the sand gently, and the sound of the ocean encourages you to release all the stress from the last workweek.

The boys get going on dinner as you slip on a silky emerald green dress - opting to go braless and barefoot - and dab on some rosy lip stain. The dress drapes lushly over your body, making it both comfortable and beautiful. After spritzing on some of your favorite perfume and putting on thin gold hoop earrings, you emerge from the guest bedroom you and Frankie are sharing for the weekend. Santi looks up and hums in approval.

“Damn, bebita, you look delicious,” he purrs as he finishes seasoning the steaks. “Do you always dress up for dinner with this chump or did you get pretty just for me? It’s okay, you can tell the truth.”

You roll your eyes at his cockiness and chuckle as you squeeze his bicep in passing. “Santi, don’t flatter yourself,” you retort, “I did it for myself. I don’t need to dress up for him to want to devour me.” You cross the kitchen to Frankie, who’s working on the caprese salad. Frankie huffs a laugh and puts down the kitchen knife, wiping his hands on a towel before to circling his hands around your waist. You lean into him, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“That’s right,” he shoots back to Santi without looking over, “she doesn’t need extra dressing up; she’s stunning enough as she is.” He kisses your forehead softly as you gaze up at him lovingly.

“You’re right.” Santi lets his gaze scan over you approvingly. “She probably looks even better with nothing on.”

“Santiago!” you laugh. “You’re such an insufferable flirt.” You walk back over to the opposite side of the kitchen island from him, fixing him with a smoldering smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know, hmm?” Santi has always been relentlessly flirtatious with every attractive woman he meets, including you. Frankie’s never bothered by his antics, but you see his eyes flick towards the two of you, anticipating his response.

“Don’t tease me with promises you won’t keep, sweetheart,” Santi warns you, voice like rich caramel, sweet and smooth. You hold each other’s gazes for a moment before you break away, laughing softly and successfully ruffling his hair like Frankie wanted to earlier. That distracts Santi from the moment, as he huffs and runs his fingers through his curls to fix them.

A few hours later, the three of you are relaxing on the balcony by the fire pit after dinner, drinking mezcal margaritas and catching up on life. You sit with your legs across the cream patio sofa, your back against Frankie’s side like you often do with him. His arm is draped possessively across your torso while his thumb rubs absentmindedly back and forth across your shoulder. Santi goes inside to fetch the mezcal bottle from the kitchen, having switched to just the liquor, and you stand from the couch to observe the beach at the balcony’s railing. The darkness of night has settled over the landscape, lending deep navies and turquoise hues to the water, and everything feels more hushed.

As you inhale the coastal breeze, you feel Frankie’s warm body press into you from behind, and then his soft lips pressing a trail of kisses over your shoulder and neck. You hum happily, smelling his rosemary cedar soap on his skin, and press yourself further into him, lightly grinding against his hips. Frankie lets out a quiet groan and presses right back into you, letting you feel his hardening length against your ass. He begins to cup your breasts through the silken fabric of your dress, easily pebbling your nipples with no bra between his fingers and your tits. The heat of arousal starts to pool low in your belly as Frankie slides his hands down to your hips, grinding on you until he’s fully hard beneath his pants. You tilt your head back, closing your eyes, and turn to the side to catch his lips, biting on his lower one and eliciting a louder groan from him.

“Sweetness, I need you so badly,” Frankie whispers into your ear. When you quietly moan in response, you can feel Frankie’s hands slip down the silk over your ass and hear him shuffle behind you. Spinning around and opening your eyes, you see him on his knees, hat next to him on the floor, starting to ruck up your dress.

“Frankie,” you hiss, grabbing his hands, desperate for more but concerned. “What if Santi sees?”

“What if I want to watch?” you hear suddenly over Frankie’s shoulder, and you gasp when you look behind him and realize Santi is leaning against the open balcony door, sipping mezcal straight from the bottle. A fire ripples from the base of your spine upwards, and your gaze drops to Frankie, whose eyes have gone nearly black with desire but remain on you. Your lips pop open slightly, and you freeze.

“Well, querida, answer the man,” Frankie rasps. “Either you let him watch or make him go back inside, but either way, I’m eating this sweet pussy.” His hands slowly drag up your legs until he’s cupping your ass, squeezing the soft flesh, which rips a moan from your throat. As Frankie’s lips trail up and down your legs, you look back up at Santi, trying to read his expression. Gone is the molten chocolate of his irises; instead, you see glimmering adamant, dark and deep like the desire painted over every line of his face. But that heated gaze is still respectful – you know Santi would never cross your boundaries. If you truly didn’t want him to watch, he’d go inside the house, no questions asked.

It’s for that exact reason that your desire thrums through you like a bass line, and you bite your lip. “Frankie, I need your mouth on me right now. I think Santi needs to see how hard you make me come.”

Frankie responds with a groan, while Santi lets out a deep purring sound. He moves to the couch, sitting with his legs spread, and takes another swig of mezcal as he takes in the sight before him. Frankie immediately yanks your soft lace panties down your thighs, and growls at the gossamer-thin string of arousal that connects your weeping center with your underwear.

“Fuuuuck, querida, you’re fucking soaked,” Frankie moans, inhaling the intoxicating scent near your glossy slit. You step out of your panties, and he grabs them, tossing them to Santi. The man on the couch catches them with one hand, bringing them immediately to his nose and sniffing deeply.

“Goddamn,” Santi grits out, “she smells so fucking good, hermano.” He brings the gusset of the lace garment to his mouth, gingerly licking the slick off, groaning at the taste. You gasp at the sight, a wave of wetness trickling down your channel. “Tastes amazing too,” he adds, leaning back into the couch cushions and stuffing your panties into his pocket.

Frankie pushes your dress up to your waist and moves your left thigh to rest on his shoulder, spreading you open. He splays your lips open with his thumbs, staring at your pussy glistening in the fire’s light, on display for both him and Santi. He licks a steady strip from the bottom to the top, swirling around your clit at the end. You moan loudly, leaning back against the railing for support.

“Oh bebita, listen to those sweet sounds you’re making for Frankie,” Santi croons from the couch. “He must be making that pussy feel so good.”

“Yes, Santi,” you gasp, swallowing thickly as your eyes close in pleasure. “He’s so fucking good with his tongue.” You hear Santi rumble deep in his chest in response.

Frankie begins licking, sucking, and tapping on your clit exactly like he knows you like it, gripping your cheeks with both hands and massaging them. You writhe against his face, rocketing faster towards your impending orgasm. When you look up, you see Santi palming his cock through his pants, the bulge straining against the linen. Your cunt clenches at the image before you. Frankie can tell you’re close, so he slips two of his fingers into his mouth momentarily to slick them up and then plunges them into your warm cunt. You throw your head back, nearly screaming in ecstasy. Your grip tightens on the railing.

“I know you’re close, querida,” Frankie growls. “Let Santi see how pretty you look when you come.” Frankie then hooks his fingers just right inside of you and hits that soft spot that sends you into orbit, squealing. You feel everything tighten and then release, your orgasm rippling through your core and into your extremities. Frankie and Santi both moan at the sights and sounds of you reaching your peak, Frankie lapping up every drop of release from you.

“Good fucking girl, mamacita,” Santi says, getting up from the couch and stalking towards the both of you. Frankie gets off of his knees, easing your leg off his shoulder while wiping a hand across his drenched mouth. He knows exactly what Santi wants, so he moves back a couple of steps. You almost stumble, legs like jelly, and Santi catches your waist.

He tilts your chin up to meet his eyes, and his assessing gaze breaks through the post-orgasm haze you’re in. “I really want to taste that perfect cunt, baby,” Santi whispers. “Can I do that for you?” You look at him, hesitating for a moment only because this is a line you’ve not crossed with Santi before. You nod clearly at him. Santi shakes his head. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Yes, Santi,” you breathe. “Please put your mouth on me.” Santi groans in anticipation and starts walking backwards, pulling you with him. When you look at him in slight confusion, a sheepish smile passes briefly over his lips.

“Bad knees,” he reminds you, and you laugh. “Kneeling on concrete would kill me.” He tilts his chin to Frankie. “Fish, open the door to the bedroom. I’m gonna lay her down. And bring the bottle.” Frankie obliges, sliding open the other glass door to the expansive bedroom and grabbing the mezcal bottle.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers. You sigh a yes, and Santi kisses you softly at first, then deeper. He tastes like cinnamon, tropical fruits, and smoky liquor. Moaning quietly, you start to lose yourself in his kiss as he moves the both of you backwards into the bedroom.

The California king size bed is draped in soft taupes and creams, the bedding a gauzy cotton that feels incredible on your skin as Santi gently lays you on it. He pulls your dress up your body, and you arch your back to help him remove it over your head. As your bare body is exposed to him, glowing in the low light, he sucks in a breath. Frankie places the mezcal bottle on the bedside table, then strips out of everything except his black boxer briefs, his length fully hard against his left thigh, and sits down on a sleek chaise lounger in the corner, watching you and Santi.

Santi strips off his shirt and then climbs onto the bed over you, slowly sliding his hands over your soft skin as he goes. You shift on the bed at his touch, back arching a bit and thighs rubbing together. He keeps his eyes locked with yours as he reaches your head, forearms bracketing either side of your face. His body is so close to yours yet not touching.

Moaning, you tangle your fingers in his salt and pepper curls and pull briefly. Santi bites your lower lip in response with a small growl. Sitting up, he grabs the mezcal off the bedside table.

“Open,” he commands, taking a swig from the glass bottle. You obey, and Santi leans over your open mouth and fucking spits the mezcal into it. You swallow, moaning at the taste, the alcohol and him. He kisses you roughly, licking into your mouth, and you whimper, your legs dropping open of their own accord.

Santi notices and chuckles darkly. “Oh, you liked that, huh?” he purrs. “Dirty girl.” He kisses and nips along your ear and neck, across your collarbone, and down your chest. Reaching your nipples, he swirls his tongue around and then gently nips each of them. You feel slick pooling at your entrance, starting to drip down your inner thighs. Santi traces his tongue down your belly and to the curls above your pussy, inhaling deeply. He pushes your thighs open further and groans at the sight.

“Goddamn, you’re drenched,” he grits out, shuffling down to put his face at your center. You glance over at Frankie in the corner, and notice he has his cock out, slowly stroking the length. You whimper at the sight and Frankie licks his lips. You feel a sudden pinch at your inner thigh and whip your head back to the man between your legs.

“Eyes on me, hermosa,” Santi orders. “I want you to look right at me when I eat this pretty pussy.” And with that, he dives in.

Santi is a messier lover than Frankie, who usually eats you out with absolute precision, priding himself with knowing exactly how to make you come as fast as possible, and repeat the process until you’re crying out from overstimulation. Santi, however, is licking at you like he wants to drown himself in your cunt. His tongue is everywhere, licking broad stripes across your slit, sucking on your lips and clit, biting at your thighs, shoving his tongue deep into your channel.

“So fucking sweet,” Santi pants out in a daze, separating his mouth from your sopping cunt for just a moment, and then goes back in for more. You mewl and grip the bed sheets as he continues to ravage you.

Your moans of pleasure stir something in Frankie, who gets up from his seat and walks over to the bed, his need to touch you nearly insatiable.

“Frankie,” you whine as you see him, your eyes hazy with lust, reaching out to him.

“I’m right here, querida,” he reassures you, then gets onto the bed, placing himself behind you. You scooch up the bed so that you’re sitting in between his spread legs, your back to his bare chest. You can feel his hard length against you, silken and hot, his precum smearing slick against your skin. Frankie kisses your forehead, then leans forward and grabs your legs behind the knees, pulling back and spreading you impossibly wider for Santi. The man between your thighs groans, slipping two fingers into you, making your back arch even more.

“Does our little slut like to be spread out? Do you like Frankie holding your legs open for me, bebita?” Santi growls, pumping his fingers in and out of you. You cry out at his words, throwing your head back against Frankie’s shoulder. One of your hands grabs Frankie’s thigh, and the other one grips Santi’s hair once again.

“Yes,” you respond, pushing his head back towards your dripping slit. “Lick my pussy like you mean it, Santi.” He groans deep in his chest and dives back in, and you feel Frankie bite the junction between your neck and shoulder in arousal. Santi continues pumping his fingers into you as he sucks your clit between his lips, swirling his tongue over it in tiny circles. You feel your orgasm begin to rise in your lower belly, intensifying with each thrust and lick. Santi feels your slick walls bear down on his fingers.

“That’s it, honey, I know you want to come for me,” Santi says.

“Give it to us,” Frankie whispers in your ear. “Come for me and Santi.”

Frankie’s command is all it takes to snap the tether in your core, shattering you into pieces as the pleasure courses hot through your body. You scream their names as your pussy gushes wave after wave of slick, running down your thighs and Santi’s fingers, into his waiting mouth, licking and slurping obscenely, his fingers continuing to press into your g-spot to prolong your high.

“God, I need to be inside you right fucking now,” Santi grits out, pussydrunk. He stands up and hurriedly shoves his pants and boxers down his legs, his thick cock springing free and bobbing slightly. You feel your mouth water; his dick is just as gorgeous as Frankie’s.

Santi meets your eyes once again. “Do you want me to fuck you while Frankie holds you open, sweetheart?” Santi asks you. You pause, your pleasure-addled mind narrowing in on one idea – having them both.

“I want you both,” you moan. Santi’s eyes widen a bit and then dart to Frankie. They share a smirk and then Frankie turns to you in his lap.

“Querida, how do you want us?” Frankie inquires. “One at a time or at the same time?”

“At the same time,” you whimper. “I want you both in my pussy.”

Santi and Frankie groan in unison. Santi smiles wickedly, looking at Frankie. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, eh?”

“Just like we used to,” Frankie chuckles darkly, and your fuzzy mind tucks away their exchange for later. “We have to get her ready, then.” He slowly releases your knees and turns to you, kissing the side of your face and lightly nibbling your ear. He grabs your chin gently with his fingers, turning your head sideways to meet his eyes. “We’re going to work you open first, okay, baby?” he intones softly. You nod your head yes. Santi and Frankie’s eyes meet, and Santi opens the bedside table drawer, grabbing a bottle of lube and tossing it to Frankie.

He catches it, reading the label. “Guava?” Frankie asks quizzically. “What happened to the mango-pineapple one?”

Santi shrugs. “I still have it,” he explains, “but guava goes better with pussy and mezcal.” You huff a laugh and Frankie smiles, kissing your forehead again and sweeping your hair out of your face.

“Guess we have an edible lube connoisseur here,” jokes Frankie, opening the cap and pouring some of the slick liquid onto his thick digits.

The sweet, juicy fruit scent wafts through the air, and Santi grabs the bottle from him, doing the same while shaking his head incredulously.“It’s not my fault that you have no sense of refinement,” he retorts. Frankie just rolls his eyes and turns back to you.

“Are you ready, sweetness?” Frankie murmurs. You nod your head and breathe out a “yes, baby”. Frankie reaches in front of himself and slips his two lubed fingers into you, and you whimper softly. Santi follows suit, slipping two of his fingers into you next, kneeling between your legs. You feel stretched full but so turned on. They allow you a few moments to adjust, and when you nod your head, they begin swirling their fingers in opposite directions. A moan rips from your throat and you grab at the bedsheets. They continue swirling and pressing their fingers in and out, and the sight of your pussy filled with their fingers gets the both of them rock hard.

The cloud of euphoria in your head is all-consuming as they continue, your arousal reaching an almost painful peak. Suddenly you grab their wrists and both men stop immediately, concern crossing their faces. “Are you okay, bebita?” Frankie asks, his brows furrowing.

You nod your head rapidly, and then bleat out, “I need you both inside me right now.” Santi and Frankie grin at your fucked out expression, looking at each other conspiratorially.

“Well, you heard the lady, Pope,” Frankie says. “Let’s give her what she wants.” He shifts you forward as he moves to the side, pulling his underwear all the way off. He lays on his back on the bed, his hard cock against his stomach dripping pre-cum. “I want you to ride me, hermosa, and then Santi is going to enter you from behind as you lean forward,” Frankie explains.

You nod your head in understanding and straddle his thighs, facing him. Frankie hands you the lube bottle. You dribble a stream onto his waiting thickness, and he hisses as the cool liquid hits his hot velvet skin. Grabbing his slick length, you shuffle forward and guide him into your channel, whining when he bottoms out easily. Frankie reaches up and grips your hips, guiding you to ride him.

After a minute, he looks over your shoulder at Santi, who is slowly stroking his dick. “I think she’s ready, Fish,” Santi says, and Frankie nods once. Santi gets on the bed, coming to his knees behind you and grabbing your hips. Frankie slides his hands to your back, gently pulling you towards him until you’re leaning forward, laying chest to chest, your pussy on full display for Santi, stuffed with Frankie’s cock. You hear Santi groan behind you at the sight.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me do this, bebita,” Santi admits as he slicks up his hardness with the lube. “Been thinking about being inside this pussy for months.”

“Well, now’s your chance,” you tease, looking back at him. “Better hurry before the offer expires.” Santi smirks at you as he places his hands on your hips.

The moment you feel the head of Santi’s cock slide into your pussy, you gasp as the sting of the stretch hits you. You hear Santi behind you grit out a quiet “fuck”. Slowly he continues sinking into your hot, wet heat. Reaching forward, he circles your throbbing clit softly, making you whine but relax, allowing him to slip deeper into you, inch by inch. Your pussy twitches and both Santi and Frankie choke on moans.

When he fills you as far as you can take both of them, the three of you hold still. As the seconds pass, the sting gives way as you adjust to being this full. The result is rolling waves of lightning sparking through your veins with each minute movement inside of you. You let out a high-pitched whine as a knot of white-hot pleasure tightens in your core.

“Mierda, bebita,” Frankie moaned, “are you gonna come just from both of us being in you?”

“God, she feels so fucking good,” Santi murmurs, almost to himself. Both of them are gripping you tightly as you continue to whimper and whine, your high quickly building. Your breathing intensifies, and you start to shake.

It’s so much, being so full of them physically, and the thought of them both in you - two of the most attractive, sexy men you know - is nearly making you lose your mind. But you don’t want to come before your boys have even gotten to move. It almost feels like a weakness, being this fucked out for them.

“It’s ok, sweetness, let go,” says Frankie softly, realizing you’re holding off for them. He presses a kiss to your neck and it’s your undoing.

The brush of his lips against that sensitive spot right under your ear pushes you off the edge and you wail, your pleasure cresting as you jerk under their firm grips. They moan loudly, your pleasure stoking theirs. The three of you catch your breaths as you come down from your high.

Frankie looks up at you, eyes pitch black, swimming with devotion for you. Santi strokes your hips gently, his strong hands shaking slightly.

“How are you feeling?” Frankie asks you sweetly, rubbing his hands across your back, his thighs clenching from holding back.

You take a shaky breath. “So fucking full,” you respond, and then giggle softly at your obvious observation. The boys laugh too, and then moan slightly as your bodies shift. Santi squeezes your hips and asks, “Are you ready for us to move, hermosa?” Your head is swimming in endorphins as you whimper out, “Yes, Santi. I need both of you to fuck me now.”

With that, the two men lock eyes and nod, beginning an apparently practiced dance of their cocks. As Frankie slides himself out, Santi pushes in, and then they reverse roles. You cry out in ecstasy. It’s so much more than you could have ever imagined.

Frankie and Santi start off with slow, shallow thrusts in and out, gradually stretching you around their lengths. When Frankie hits a particularly sweet spot, you moan fervently and more slick coats them, making them both moan back in response. The friction between their cocks and your walls is delicious.

“Fuck, bebita, you look incredible taking the both of us,” Santi says, gripping your hips harder, a sheen of sweat glimmering across his body.

Frankie hums in agreement. “You’re doing so well, baby,” he praises. You preen at their words, arching your back to change the angle. Santi whimpers and kisses along your spine, worshiping your body. The room is thick with the smell of sex, guava, and mezcal, the squelching sounds of your pussy weaving between all three of your moans and cries of pleasure.

The boys begin to speed up the wetter you get, starting to fuck into you with vigor. You feel like your whole body is vibrating. Leaning down to kiss Frankie changes the angle once again, and Santi lets out yet another whimper as you slide your tongue along Frankie’s.

“Fuck, baby, just like that, that’s perfect,” he gasps, getting even harder inside of you. He starts to rub your clit in tight circles, making you yelp. “I want you to come one more time for us before we fill you up,” he continues. “Gonna make your pussy milk our cocks. C’mon, honey, you’ve got one more in you, I can feel it.”

“I don’t know,” you whimper. “I - it’s so much…”

Frankie lets out a growl. “Oh, querida, I know you can come for us one more time,” he says. “Just think about how full of cock you are right now.”

He’s right. The psychological thrill of having both men inside of you is the push you need. You start to shake again, everything tensing up. Both men moan as your channel pulls tight.

Santi leans down to your ear, still thumbing your clit. “Fucking come for us. That’s an order.”

You scream so loudly when your fourth orgasm hits you, that you’re grateful that Santi has no neighbors - because they definitely would have called the cops by now. Tears leak down your face from the intensity, and Santi whimpers loudly as he thrusts in and comes deep in you, his hot seed coating your walls. The tightness of your pussy and Santi shoving deep end up pushing Frankie’s cock out, but he couldn’t care less.

When Santi’s strokes slow and then stop, indicating he’s finished, Frankie pushes him off of you, and roughly flips you over onto your back. He shoves your legs apart, and pushes his dick harshly into you. Boneless, you lay there, moaning and taking it, unable to say anything coherent except for Frankie’s name. Your boyfriend presses your legs even further towards your shoulders, nearly bending you in half as he fucks into you hard and fast, Santi’s cum forced out of you with every snap of Frankie’s hips.

“God, you look like such a goddess right now,” Frankie babbles, nearly snarling, “so full of cum. You like that? You want me to fill you up good? You’re gonna be leaking our cum for days, querida.”

“Yes, Frankie, yes,” you moan, “please fill me up. I love your cum in me. I wanna be so full of both of you.”

With a shout, Frankie bares his teeth and comes, getting as deep as possible and filling up your cunt just like he promised. You feel his cum thick and hot in you, triggering another moan.

Frankie drops your knees back down to the bed, nearly collapsing down against your chest while the two of you pant heavily, trying to catch your breaths. Looking over, you spot Santi sitting up at the corner of the bed, looking disheveled but utterly sated, his now-soft cock still shiny with lube and your combined releases.

You reach your hand out to him, and he crawls towards you, slotting himself next to one side, while Frankie hisses as he pulls out of you and lays next to you on your other side. He smothers your neck and face with kisses, and you giggle, feeling Santi pepper kisses across the top of your head and stroking the underside of your breast affectionately with his thumb.

You let out a contented sigh. “Wow, that was…”

Frankie hums out an “incredible” at the exact same time Santi rumbles a “so fucking good” to complete your statement, which makes the three of you laugh. Giggles subsiding, something they said in the heat of the moment suddenly pops into your mind.

“Wait a second,” you say as you sit up. Both men lazily look up at you, faces blissed out, waiting for your question. “Frankie, you said, ‘just like old times’... How many times have you double teamed with Santi?”

The two of them look at each other with nearly identical smirks. Santi pipes up first. “Well, back in our Army grunt days,” he explains, “when we’d go on leave together, we kind of had this habit of teaming up to pick up women.” Your jaw drops slightly, and Santi looks amused at your shock.

“It was a fairly effective strategy,” Frankie continues. “Trying to land a girl alone was a crapshoot. But with the both of us offering her a night to remember?” Frankie huffs. “It seemed like fantasy fulfillment for almost every woman we fucked together.”

Your eyes rake over the two of them, gloriously naked and handsome as ever, in bed with you. Yeah, you can see the appeal.

“Okay, but who came up with the idea?” You ask, then immediately put up a hand into the air. “WAIT, no, I know exactly who… Santi, you slut!”

Frankie lets out a loud bark of a laugh as Santi rolls his eyes, folding his arms over his chest, annoyed.

“Hey, don’t act like you didn’t benefit from it, idiota!” Santi grumbles. Frankie reaches over, finally successfully ruffling Santi’s hair. Santi flinches and bats Frankie’s hand away, making you shake with laughter as you lounge in the post-coital haze with your boyfriend and his best friend. You don’t blame those women they slept with one bit. This was a night you will surely remember.

No pressure tags: @mermaidgirl30 @legendary-pink-dot @nerdieforpedro @mountainsandmayhem @arcanefox207 @campingwiththecharmings @exquisit3corpse @gutsby @honeyedmiller @lavendertales @lu62 @luxurychristmaspudding @ozarkthedog @qveerthe0ry @swiftispunk @sheepdogchick3 @thatshortgirlwithglasses @wannab-urs @musings-of-a-rose

#joel miller #frankie morales #santiago garcia #pedro pascal #oscar isaac #joel miller x f!reader x frankie morales #joel miller x f!reader x santiago garcia #joel miller smut #frankie morales smut #santiago garcia smut #triple frontier fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller au #joel miller fanfiction #frankie morales fanfiction #santiago garcia fanfiction

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asterias-record-shop · 11 months

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prompt 6? high school sweethearts. dylan o brian ofc. could u do it where maybe the reader is also an actress or something and they are both celebrities. maybe add in a scene where they are in an interview where someone asks them ab how they met or soemtjing and idk it ends with smut lol

—𓆩[red suit, red dress]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Dylan O’Brien x Fem! Actress! Fiancée! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 2.8K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You and Dylan had been together since he was shooting YouTube videos, and even replaced Holland as Lydia in Teen Wolf after a family emergency, and had been his partner in every film he shot from American Assassin to Love and Monsters to The Outfit. Besides, who could have better chemistry with Dylan than you?

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing & foul language || Drew Barrymore is now interviewing you and Dylan || nvm I saw an opportunity and took it, you didn’t make it to the interview || smut warnings include hickies, fingering, semi-public sex, car sex, oral, raw sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie

“Dylan, we have the interview soon!” You yelled out as you slipped on your dress. You were careful choosing this one out, especially because Drew sent you both a pretty fruit basket and you were insanely excited to talk to her.

“I know!” He yelled out, walking out of the restroom with a towel around his waist and his face cleanly shaven. His hazel eyes were bright as they stared at you smooth the sides of your red dress, the perfect color that suited you amazingly and one he could never look away from. “You look so amazing.”

You paused as you started to put the gold and garnet earrings he got for you as a monthly anniversary present. “Thanks, baby.”

He smiled widely as he walked over, the towel around his waist falling slightly with every step as he came behind you. He was about to press his chest to your back before you glared at him through the mirror.

“If you get this dress wet, we’re going to have problems.” You threaten playfully making him hum as he takes the earring from you and slips it into your ear.

He mumbled, rubbing his hands against your hips after officially securing it on the lobe of your ear. “I’m trying to be romantical here.”

You giggle, ignoring your own words and leaning back into his chest. “There’s ways of being romantical without getting me wet.”

He grinned, his fingers slowly trailing down your thighs. “But making you wet is my specialty, angel cakes.”

You giggled at the nickname, stroking his hair. “Angel cakes? That’s a new one.”

“Got it from our friend MC Mikey,” he grinned at you through the mirror. “Y’know, in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?”

You giggle, nodding. “I remember. I like it.”

“Do you now?” His hands slipped underneath your red dress, rubbing at your thighs as he hummed against your neck. “What else do you like?”

“I think I liked the blond,” you say, pushing your hands through his now grown out brown hair. “But I do like you clean shaven.”

He smiled, nodding. “Maybe I’ll go blond again for you,” his fingers slowly pulled up your dress, letting you watch him through the mirror as he let his fingers graze your slit up and down slowly. “Whatever you want me to do, angel cakes.”

You groaned as you tilted your head back, humming as his finger softly trailed over your underwear that you wore specifically not to leave any panty-lines on the dress. You leaned your head back against his shoulder, ignoring the slight wetness that settled on your back that would definitely mean that you’d have to change your dress, which was a shame because you really liked it.

“You need to calm down, Dylan,” you whisper, holding back a whimper as he dipped his fingers into your underwear and his mouth sucked against your neck. “D-Don’t leave hickeys, Dylan, I won’t be able to cover them up.”

“You don’t have to,” he mumbled, humming against your skin. “I like it when people can see them.”

You gasped, knowing you wouldn’t be able to stop him, so you hummed with a slight nod. “Just not too many, alright? And not too dark.”

“Whatever you say, angel cakes.”

You giggled as he pushed his fingers through your wet slit, his mouth wide and sucking against your skin as your hands tightly held his wrists, whimpers falling from your mouth as you leaned back into him, gasping. “Y-You need… you need to change, Dylan.”

“Do I have a red suit to match your dress?”

“Y-Yeah, i-it’s Valentino,” you whisper, whimpering. “K-Kinda like the one Pedro wore for the Met Gala, just with pants.”

He laughed, his mouth sucking on your earlobe. “What if we’re just a little late?”

“No, Dylan, she sent us a fruit basket!”

“Fuck her fruit basket,” he basically growled, groaning as he bucked his hips up into you. “Tell me what you chose me to wear, angel cakes.”

“Th-The red oversized coat… red button down, black Valentino tie and some slacks,” you groaned as his thumb slid over your clit, rolling the sensitive bud between two fingers before his mouth pressed to your jaw. “Fuck, Dylan.”

“Who are you imagining wearing that suit, huh baby? Me or Pedro, I know you’ve had a crush on him since Narcos,” he teased you, his tongue peeking out as you groaned. “Me or Pedro, angel cakes?”

You hold his jaw, delicately grazing your teeth over his mole as he groans. “Definitely Pedro.”

You both laughed loudly as he took out his fingers from your panties, a squeal echoing off of the walls from your mouth as he pushed them in between his lips and walked to the walk-in closet. “Are you going to change, baby?!”

“No!” You yelled back, fixing your dress and checking that a wet spot wasn't peeking through. “It’ll dry by the time we get there!”

You put on the gold choker you bought and a gold and diamond bracelet with Dylan’s initials engraved on the nameplate on your wrist, fixing your engagement ring and his rope chain that you had been wearing the past few days. You loved stealing his jewelry, but it’s more like the two of you swapped because as soon as he walked out of the closet dressed like a fucking god with some combat boots on to match Pedro’s, he slipped on a small gold hoop onto the helix of his right ear because of the lack of a needle.

You hummed as you grabbed a stack of hoops from your jewelry box, coming next to him as you kissed his cheek softly, sliding the stack onto the lower area of his helix on his other ear. “I was imagining you, Dylan,” you whisper with a firm tug to his thigh. “I’m always imagining you, baby.”

He smiled at you, holding your cheek with a firm hand and pressing another kiss to your lips. “Well then, we have another thing in common, baby.”

You giggled as he held your hip, guiding you out of the room and down the stairs.

“If your dress isn’t dry by the time we get there, I’ll give you my jacket, okay?”

You hummed, smiling as you both walked out of your home and he helped you into the SUV, quickly sliding into the car and putting his arm around you. “How are we doing on time, angel cakes?”

“We’re running a little late, but not by much. When we get there, we should just have enough time to be fitted with mics and then go on air,” you say, leaning forward to look at your reflection in the rearview mirror. “Dylan! You left, like, a dozen!”

“I left four!” He said, laughing as you started tugging on his jacket. “What, you’re that eager? Mycroft, put up the privacy screen!”

“What? No, no Mycroft, don’t do that!” You yell, your driver laughing as you groan. “I need to cover them up because you’re acting like a fucking vampire and leaving hickies all over me!”

“Here, I’ll give it to you when we get there, alright?” He whispers, pressing firm kisses to your neck as you roll your eyes playfully. “But we still have like fifteen minutes until we get there, angel cakes. Why don’t you put that pretty mouth to use for something else, hm? Repay me for earlier?”

You glared at him, but looked at Mycroft through the mirror. “Will you put the privacy screen up, please Mycroft?”

“Whatever you say, Ms. Y/N.” He reached forward, slowly pushing the button to make the privacy screen go up and a deep sigh left your mouth.

“We have half an hour, maybe more, Dylan,” you say, a smile on your face as you slowly take off your seatbelt. You could feel Mycroft slow down as you kneeled on the seat, slowly unzipping his slacks after unbuttoning them. It didn’t surprise you when his cock immediately bulged through his underwear, a hum leaving your mouth as you licked over the fabric. “Why am I not surprised?”

He groaned loudly, hips bucking as you hushed him softly. “Fuck, Y/N.”

“Careful, darling,” you whispered, humming with another soft lick to the growing wet patch on his black briefs. “Our windows might be tinted and the privacy screen might be up, but nothing muffles how loud you’re going to be.”

You giggled as he groaned out, holding the back of your head with a hand covered in golden rings. He hissed as you pulled out his cock, head rolling back as you pumped him slowly just how he liked it, slowly and tightly. Your hand barely went around his girth, your mouth sucking loudly against his pretty tip before licking down the bottom of his shaft.

You could feel his cock pulse in your mouth, pulling him farther down your throat as his hand held your butt, rubbing and pushing into your cunt. Your eyes rolled back as his fingertips circle the rim of your entrance, warm and clenching around nothing so desperately.

You couldn't even focus on his cock, choking and gagging around his length as he pulled his fingers away and pushed them into his mouth. His other hand held your waist tightly, his mouth kissing against your shoulder as he leaned down and pushed a finger into you slowly. Your eyes rolled back as you bobbed your head, pumping your hands as he slowly pushed in and out of your cunt.

You pulled away for a second, gasping for air as he thrusted his fingers in and out of you, teasingly pushing another into your cunt. You basically mewled as both of his fingers pushed in and out, in and out, a steady rhythm you couldn’t stop thinking about as you relax your jaw and bobbed your head around the tip of his cock, pulling it to the back of your throat as you hollow your cheeks around it.

He groaned loudly against your shoulder, your mouth enclosed around his length as his other hand held the back of your head and pressed kisses to your shoulder. “Just like that baby, just like that. Fuck, you’re doing so good.”

You hummed around his length, thighs shaking as he twisted his fingers inside of you and another circled around your cunt, slowly pushing in another finger that made your cunt clench and a loud moan fell from your lips. “Who’s being loud now, hm? Your cunt is clenching more than usual, are you about to cum?”

You whined, humming around his length as you pulled away, nodding. “Yes! Yes, I am, fuck!”

He groaned as his mouth sucked against your shoulder, leaving another hickey in your skin as you pulled his cock into your mouth, a feeling of emptiness settling in the pit of your stomach as he pulled his fingers out of you, his mouth leaving a blaze of warmth wherever he went and a shudder run down your spine as he bucked his hips.

Your eyes rolled back, a loud groan falling from your mouth making him choke and push you down until your mouth was fully enveloping his cock and giving him a chance to come undone underneath you. You hummed as you continued to bob your head, pulling away just enough so that his cum flooded your mouth.

You pulled away, swallowing as he grinned down at you, his cock still hard. “You know damn well that getting me off once does nothing.”

You giggled as you slowly pushed yourself over his cock, humming as you held his shoulders. “I know.”

He smiled as you slowly held his shaft, hissing as you slowly sank onto his cock, your head tilting back as he held your hips. He pressed soft kisses to your jaw, humming as his fingers dug into the fabric of your dress, his mouth leaving more heat onto your skin which already felt like it was on fire. “Dy-Dylan, I want to take it off,” you whispered, whining. “Take off my dress.”

He smiled, laughing slightly as he held the hem of your dress. “It’s going to take a minute to put it on again, my darling. Are you sure you want to take it off?”

You whined, rolling your hips as he groaned underneath you. “I-It’s just so hot, it’s so fucking hot.”

“I know baby, but I don’t want you stressed out when we get there,” his fingers held your waist, your hips rolling as he slowly took off his seatbelt. “Do you want me to tell Mycroft to turn up the AC?”

You thought about it for a minute, but shook your head. You always got hot whenever he fucked you, or was about to fuck you, his hips strong as he began to thrust. “N-No, just keep fucking me, don’t stop.”

He hummed into your ear, grunting as he held your hips and his mouth attached to the same hickies he had made earlier. “Remember the first time I had you like this? Fucked you in the backseat whenever that stupid movie was playing in the football field, they were trying to take us back to the 80s or some shit?”

You groaned loudly, his mouth making your mind hazy as you bucked your hips into his. “Yeah, I remember. It had to be like our… What, fourth time having sex? You were so desperate.”

“Who’s desperate now, hm?” He says, leaning back and fixing your legs around his waist and grunting as he positioned your hips a little higher, leaning down to press his wet lips to yours. “I know your body gets all hot when you’re desperate. Like you want to cum. You’re desperate, aren’t you? You want to cum again?”

You whined, nodding. “Y-Yes,” your fingers ran over his clothed chest, your head lulling up and down in a pathetic nod. “I want you to fuck me harder, Dylan.”

“Do you?” He teased, groaning as he leaned forward as he pressed kisses to your lips. “I will, I’ll do whatever you want.”

You laughed, pulling his face into your neck. “You’re still so fucking desperate.”

He laughed, his nose nuzzling into your neck as his hips moved faster, just like you wanted him to. He groaned, his mouth still pushing against the same hickies that he had made earlier, his fingers pushing down to rub firm circles into your clit. His cock was pounding into you making your stomach twist and turn, tightening as your walls would clamp down onto his shaft, his broken moans filling the back seats along with the wet squelching of your cunt and the slaps of skin against skin.

“I might be desperate,” he grunted, his mouth quickly finding yours to kiss and push his tongue into your mouth, groaning loudly. “But you’re one fucking worthy person to be desperate for. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, falling in love with you quicker than a bitch could say ‘fuck’.”

You laughed as he pulled you closer, his other hand pushing into your hair to pull you in for another kiss, his teeth grazing your lips that were painted with lipstick and his tongue pushing into your mouth making a loud groan leaving your mouth. That combined with the strong thrusts of his hips, his cock imminently and repeatedly ramming into you made your stomach tighten and your nails dig into his back.

His hips slam into you, a loud groan falling from his lips as he choked against your lips, pulling away to inhale deeply. “F-Fuck, I think I made a mess.”

You hummed, feeling his cum flood into your stomach as you run your fingers through his hair before a soft tap on the privacy screen makes both of you stiffen. “We’re here!”

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writingfandomfeels · 5 months

Text

Anakin Skywalker - Drunken Doppelganger Discovery

Summary: You're drunkenly rambling to a stranger that you don't realize is THEE Anakin Skywalker, and he makes sure you get home safely. Timeline is roughly Clone Wars ish.

Word count: 965

Content Warnings: Drinking, briefly one creepy guy

The heavy beat of the music in the club pulsed through your body as you danced. Lights of every color flashed in time to the rhythm, accentuating the movements of the other dancers around you. Their silhouettes swirled in your vision, no face ever clear enough to see, just a blur of dark then colorfully bright then dark again.

Realizing that your glass was now empty, you turned to make your way back to the bar. Your destination in sight, it took all of your focus to concentrate on successfully walking toward it. Your body swayed as if on a ship at sea, but you simply leaned into it, letting the feeling make you giggle in amusement.

You plunked yourself down on a stool, waiting for the bartender, who looked like a walking booger. He seemed to be too occupied filling the multiple orders of others to notice you, so you decided to get comfortable and get to know the person seated next to you. You turned to your left to look at him and were immediately struck by his luscious long curls and chiseled jaw.

“Holy shit, you’re hot.” You say, not entirely sure if it was out loud or in your head as you had intended it.

The blond man turned to look at you, clearly taken aback at your comment. The slight curve of a smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth as he considered if you really just said that to him.

You looked him over, taking in his leather outfit now too. “Hey you know who you look like? Oh what’s his name- that, that jedi… uhh… Anakin Skywalker!” You said, pointing to him, thinking how uncanny the resemblance was. You then turned back to locate the bartender. “Hottest jedi in the galaxy.” Finding that the bartender was now pouring a long line of shots, you turned your attention back to your neighbor. “You know I always thought the jedi were just born old. You know? Like it just feels like they’re always just a bunch of old men. Old religious men I suppose. Yeah, not normally my cup of tea but that Skywalker?” You laughed, “Pretty sure anybody would take a cup of that.” You began waving at the bartender, trying to get his attention, but nevertheless continuing your drunken rambling. “You know I heard they can’t get laid. The jedi.” You clarified. “But if you ask me, I think that’s just because a bunch of old men were pissed that a hottie like Anakin fucking Skywalker could just come along and not only steal their thunder with being better than them at their woo woo force shit and their voom voom lightsabers,” you said, gesturing with your hands for emphasis “but he also literally could get anybody he wanted.”

By now that slight smirk had turned into a hardly contained grin of amusement. You didn’t notice though as you finally locked eyes with the booger bartender and he made his way over to you.

“Finally.” You complained.

Anakin’s gaze darted from you to the bartender and back.

As he arrived, you started your order, “I’ll get a-”

“You just want water.” Anakin cut you off, waving his hand.

“I just want water.” You said to the bartender, who obliged.

You drank from the glass, thirstier than you’d thought. The ice tingled your lips and cooled you as you swallowed. You blinked a moment, staring into the glass and wondering how you ended up with water instead of the cocktail you’d craved earlier.

“You’re going to go home now.” The voice to your left said.

You thought of your home and how comfy your bed would be right about now. “I’m going to go home now.” You said, imagining your soft pillows, feeling like there was nothing in the world you wanted more right now. You stood, approaching the exit.

“I’ll come too,” a nearby Devaronian growled, eyeing you in a predatory way as he went to follow you.

Anakin jumped from his seat, stepping in front of the Devaronian. “No, you’re not.” He stared threateningly, flashing the hilt of his lightsaber.

The Devaronian grumbled and walked off.

Deciding he needed to ensure your safety now, Anakin exited the club to find you. Luckily, you hadn’t made it too far as he found you sitting slumped on the curb, pouting.

“I thought you were going home?” He asked.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because my shoe is broke.” You held up the broken heel to him. “Now I can’t walk anywhere.” You let out a dramatic sigh. “I guess I’ll just have to stay here forever. I live here now. This is my home.”

A moment passed as you stared sadly at your broken shoe, and Anakin stared at you. Seeing no other alternative, he scooped you up into his arms and began carrying you down the street.

“Where do you live?” He asked.

You smiled, pleasantly surprised to be held in such muscular arms, you almost forgot to answer his question.

“Oh, just past the mini mart.”

He gave a nod, confirming he knew where that was.

You stared a moment longer at your hero’s face. “I like you.” You said, playfully poking his nose with your index finger. “You saved me from shoes. Maybe you don’t save the galaxy like your look-alike but you’re still nice.” You let your head lean back against him and closed your eyes, beginning to feel very sleepy. “And pretty. Very pretty.” You added.

His chest moved against you as he softly chuckled.

“Mmmm,” you hummed, trying so hard to fight off the oncoming sleep, “what’d you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.”

As the sleep began to take hold of you, you hardly heard the last thing he said.

“It’s Anakin.”

#star wars #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #star wars anakin #anakin x you #my writing #fanakin fiction

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vickychendraws · 5 days

Note

Hello! Hello! Question: I’m trying to get into comic making and I already have a few. But I’m trying to get a frame of reference. What’s your planning process for your little comics that you make (like the falin/marcelle ones. Not quite mini comics, but also not full fledged comics that I’d be able to bind into a book) I love them very much 💕

hi!

omg, first of all, thank you so much!! and that sounds like a lot of fun!! i'd love to read your comics when you're done :D low key, i feel wildly unqualified to be consulted about comic making LOL. i kinda stumbled my way into them, but now that i'm actively going into it with comics in mind, i... kinda have a process?

i sorta just work out a scenario in my head and start scribbling. For whatever reason, the ideas and dialogue come out better when i start seeing the characters and the scene (even if it's super loose). During this phase, i make whatever notes i need, write out options for dialogue, adjust the layout (i'm not a very clean line drawer, so that makes things easy to move around; but also, the lasso tool is a dear, dear friend), and just let myself get the idea out in a really rough form. From there, i tighten things up, rearrange a bit more, edit, and then i just do a cleaner line drawing and add color :) Sorry if that was a really long response! But hope that helps! (i've included a couple of my first sketches to give you a better idea of how messy things start out)

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rfsak2 · 9 months

Text

This one is long- almost ten pages longer than last post. It was a bit more difficult to write due to some of the things that happen in Season 3. Let know what you think of my characterization of Daryl. Feedback is much appreciated!

Also, prison/guard tower smut has been requested and, while I feel like I definitely delivered in prison smut, guard tower smut will be in the next chapter as I have plans.

And we’re off!

Spitfire, Pt. 4

Everyone always thought Daryl was the rough one. DarylxOC

Warnings: violence, lots of bad language words (including Merle’s backward views on people of color and women), smut under the cut, character death (Merle)

Part 3

Mitzi smiled at Carol. “Don't worry too much about any walkers goin’ after Rick. Me and Daryl will keep ‘em clear. Try to focus mid-field.”

Carol nodded. “Alright.”

“Good.” Mitzi squeezed her shoulder. “And try to keep your shoulder loose. The kick-back will hurt less.”

Mitzi lifted her M110 and switched it to automatic. She set to picking off walkers on the far side of the yard, a rhythmic thwump, thwump, thwump filling the air alongside the other guns firing unsuppressed. Occasionally, she shifted to shoot down one getting too close to Rick for comfort, then back to thwump, thwump, thwump.

She chuckled when Carol shot into the ground near Rick’s feet.

Carol winced. “Sorry!”

Mitzi turned and took out the walker before it could get closer to Rick. Through her scope, she saw Rick look down at the walker and give her a thumbs up.

She turned to Carol, smiling gently. “Breathe in. Aim. Shoot. Try to do it quick so you’re not holding your breath too long. Makes your heart rate jump and your hands shake.”

Carol muttered the pattern under her breath to herself.

“Keep loose.”

Carol nodded, adjusting her stance nervously. Mitzi moved to stand near her, mimicking and correcting her stance.

They raised their rifles at once. “Breathe in. Aim. Shoot.”

Carol hit her next walker through his cheek, right under the eye.

“There ya go, Miss Thing! Good shot!”

Carol blushed under her praise.

Mitzi inspected the yard through her scope and went down on one knee, using the railing as a bipod to steady her rifle. She started to pick off walkers lining up against the fence to a courtyard within the prison.

“Light it up!”

She grinned. Twump. Twump. Twump.

“You wanna mess around?”

“That for me or D?” Mitzi grinned over her shoulder at Daryl.

He pointed down at her where she sat, legs dangling over the chassis of the bus. “Stop.”

Carol giggled. “Both.”

Daryl let out a sound of frustration.

Mitzi blew a kiss at her. “I think that can be arranged.”

They both looked over at Daryl. He blew a raspberry, blushing.

Carol moved to get down off the overturned bus and Daryl held his hand up. “I’ll go down first.”

Carol caught Mitzi’s eyes. “Even better.”

Daryl huffed out a laugh.

“He’s fuckin’ good at it too.” Mitzi watched as he shot her an exasperated look. She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Oh I know. We are all well aware of his prowess.” Carol mused, grinning.

He grunted. “Stop. Both’a ya.” He swung his legs over the side of the bus, and popped down. He held his hand up, steadying Carol as she jumped down.

He turned back to her and wrapped his arms around her calves. She put her hands on his shoulders and he supported her as she straightened against him. As he relaxed, letting her slowly slide down his body, she cupped his face in her hands.

She saw Carol dip around the corner of the bus, moving back towards the campfire.

He paused, holding her against him. “Yer a menace.”

She smiled and kissed him. “You like that I’m a menace.”

He set her on her feet, making a face and shrugging. “Eh.”

Leaning in to kiss him again, she laughed. “You keep tellin’ yourself that, baby.”

He backed her up against the undercarriage of the bus, but thought better of it. He cast a look around, hand still holding him tight to him. “Take my poncho off.”

She tilted her head. “What for? It’s still chilly-“

He pressed his lips to hers. “Take it off and throw it on the ground.”

Still obviously confused, she pushed him back far enough to pull it out from between them and threw it behind her.

He pecked at her lips, before pulling away. Leaning over, he spread his poncho out and motioned to it.

“My, my… you are romantic.” She fingered at his collar and pulled him to her, groaning when he slipped his tongue into her mouth.

He pulled away. “You’ve been windin’ me up all day. Touching my thighs, pressing your tits up against m’back. Getcha ass on that poncho, now.”

“Don’t need to threaten me with a good time, Dixon.” She grinned, leaning back in to kiss him, and moaned into his mouth.

He reached down and undid her belt and fly. Grunting into her mouth, he slipped his hand into her jeans and petted at her clothed core roughly.

She moved to mouth at his jaw, gasping when he rubbed the rough pad of his finger over her clit through her rapidly soaking underwear.

“Jeans n’panties off. Poncho, now.”

She nipped at his ear before moving back, pushing her jeans down past her hips. He licked at his lip, holding a hand out to steady her as she yanked at the laces of her boots and toed them off. She giggled triumphantly when she successfully removed her jeans and underwear and sat back on the poncho, making grabby hands at him.

He shouldered off his bag and passed it to her. Head tilted in confusion, she accepted it.

He chuckled. “For y’head. Lay back.”

She smiled up at him. “That’s sweet of ya, baby.”

He rolled his eyes and undid his belt buckle with quick, efficient motions. He started on the button of his fly when she shifted to her knees and took over.

She popped the button and lowered his zipper with one hand as she pushed the hem of his shirt up with the other. Maintaining eye contact to the best of her ability, she nibbled at the skin under his belly button.

He hissed and she dropped to press wet kisses to the head of his cock through his briefs.

He groaned. “Fuck, baby.”

She smiled a siren smile and tugged his briefs and jeans down his thighs. One hand bracing herself on his thigh, she mouthed at the base of his cock, lifting her free hand to squeeze gently around the tip.

His head rolled back on his neck and he groaned, fingers blindly finding the back of her neck.

She pinched his thigh and smiled when he rolled his head forward to look at her. She licked up his shaft and took as much of him into her mouth as she could, relaxing her jaw and throat.

He grunted, fighting the urge to pull her even closer. She started a gentle bobbing motion, teasing at his head with her tongue with every retreat.

“Baby-“

She met his eyes again and twisted her hand around the base of his shaft.

“Fuck!” He petted at her face, pushing loose red spirals out of her face with slightly clumsy movements.

“Wanna go down on ya.” He hissed again, tugging on her hair. “Gotta stop or this’ll be over too soon.”

She smiled and pressed a chaste kiss to the tip of his cock. “Spoil sport.”

An uncharacteristically cocky smile curled his lips. “You like sucking m’off, Mitz?”

She licked up the underside of his shaft, eyes locked to his. “I do.”

He exerted gentle pressure on the back of her head, coaxing her to stand. He kissed her deeply, his hands smoothing down her back to grab at her bare ass.

“Jump.”

He lifted her against him and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He knelt as gingerly as possible and laid her out under him.

He kissed her briefly before pushing her oversized Metallica shirt up over her sports bra. He groaned and pressed his face into her sternum.

He hooked a finger in the stretchy material and pulled it down enough to get her breasts out over the top of it.

He licked over the nearest nipple before taking it into his mouth. When he was satisfied with his work, he leaned up to kiss her again and moved to cup and squeeze at her other breast.

She moaned into his mouth and he smiled, pinching and pulling lightly at her nipple.

“Love your tits.”

He shifted to suck a mark into the skin of her breast. She gasped and raked her fingers through his hair, arching into his mouth when bit lightly at her breast.

He arched an eyebrow and pushed her breasts together, licking at the seam between them and then attempting to take both nipples into his mouth.

He succeeded and she threw her head back and laughed.

He smiled shyly. “Been wanting t’do that since I met ya.”

She giggled. “There are times I think you’re definitely an ass man and then you do shit like that.”

He shook his head and moved down, littering kisses over the sniper rifle tattooed on her side. “Just you.”

She pulled him back to her mouth. “What do you mean?”

He blushed, pressing his lips hard to hers. “Just you. Don’t care what I’m touchin’, ‘long as it’s you.”

She smiled brilliantly. “Daryl Dixon, that is easily the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

He ducked his head, avoiding her eyes. “Turn over.”

She laughed and turned over. He directed her up on her knees, before squeezing and lightly slapping her ass.

“Love your ass too.”

She reached over and pulled his bag under her face, moaning loudly when he touched his lips to her clit. One hand on her shoulder, he pushed her shoulder down lower, lifting her ass up higher.

He licked up her slit, dipping his tongue into her.

She gasped. “Fuck!”

He went to work in earnest, alternating with broad swipes along the length of her slit, sucking her lips into his mouth and spearing her on his tongue. She dug her forehead into his bag, panting into canvas that smelled like him.

Her head swam.

He grunted against her and she had the thought that he might be jerking off behind her. It felt almost impossible to shift up enough to open her eyes and look between her legs.

She saw his hand, big and veiny, wrapped around his cock and moaned.

When his thumb made contact with her clit, her back arched so hard she could swear her back cracked.

“C’mon, Spitfire, gotta cum so I can get inside ya.” He rasped against her, the deep timbre of his voice vibrating against her.

Her feet arched. Her toes curled.

He attached his mouth to her clit and pushed two fingers into her.

She came with a whimper.

Not a second later, the blunt head of his cock was pushing against her entrance. “Y’okay?”

She nodded and lifted herself up on her elbows. Turning over her shoulder, she smiled at him. “So fuckin’ okay.”

He grinned back and entered her in a smooth thrust. He set a brutal pace, hips meeting hers with an arousingly wet sound.

Letting her head fall back against his backpack, she reached back and covered the hand on her hip.

“Fuckin’ pretty little thing, ain’t ya?” He grunted, free hand dipping around to circle her clit. “Y’gonna cum again? Squeeze me so hard, you’ll take me wit’ya?”

She nodded. “Fuck, D. Please.”

He sped up, the pace even more brutal and exquisite.

He stopped and she bit back a scream as he pulled out and the burning in her belly receded.

“Flip over.” He grunted. “Need’ta see ya.”

She nodded with a slightly frantic edge and did as he bid. As soon as she was settled, he pressed himself back into her.

After a few hard thrusts, he laid over her, groaning at the feel of her chest against his. She wound her arms around him, under his arms, and clutched him to her.

She arched up and caught his mouth. Moaning, she dug her fingers into his shoulder blades and met each grinding thrust with her hips.

“Pretty baby.” He chuckled into her mouth. “Gonna give me another? Gonna whimper f’me again?”

“I did not whimper.”

He grinned. “The fuck y’didnt.” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her lips. “Whimpered like m’pretty, little girl.”

She shook her head and one hand dropped to squeeze his ass under his jeans. “Y’heard wrong.”

“No, I didn’t.” He shifted his weight to one elbow and captured her chin with his free hand. “Cum, pretty girl.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “C’mon baby.”

She nodded and moaned into his mouth, his fingers capturing one of her nipples and pinching.

He sped up as she reached her high, reaching his own shortly after.

“Holy shit. Where did that come from?”

He chuckled into her sternum.

She lifted a lazy hand and carded her fingers through his hair.

“I wish you’d stay in there, Mitz.” T-Dog leaned in, whispering into her ear as they followed Rick and the prisoners down into the yard.

Daryl, in front of her, nodded. “These men ain’t seen a woman in a while.”

She shrugged. “They only have one gun. I ain’t worried.”

“One gun in the hand of someone who’s unknown crimes got him locked up in the first place.”

She made a face. “Fair point.”

“This could get outta hand.” Daryl cast a look back at her.

“In which case, you need more guns in hands. Am I right or am I right?” She reached forward to squeeze his shoulder. “Unless, you thinkin’ my feminine charms are gonna overwhelm their good sense.”

Daryl snorted and let her out of the stairwell ahead of him. “Overwhelmed mine.”

She pinched his side as she passed him. “I’m the best damn thing to ever happen to you and you damn well know it, Dixon.”

T-Dog passed Daryl and moved so she was continually between him and Daryl. “There's always a chance that they… lose control.”

She smiled up at him. “It is far more likely that their anger will cause them to lose control than lil ol’me.”

“Jus’ the same, stay behind me.” Daryl stepped in front of her, partially blocking the inmates’ view of her.

“You never said, how the hell did you get in here in the first place?”

Daryl pointed out at the guard tower. “Cut a hole in that fence over there by that guard tower.”

The smaller inmate nodded. “That easy, huh?”

“Where there’s a will there’s a way.”

“Easy for you to say.” Andrew muttered.

Mitzi kept her eyes on the de facto leader, who seemed unphased by the carnage around them. Rick caught her eyes and nodded.

The bigger inmate- Tiny- poked at a corpse with a stick. “So what is this? Like a disease?”

“Yeah,” Rick supplied, “and we’re all infected.”

The blond inmate stepped forward. “What do you mean ‘infected’? Like AIDS or something?”

“Sorta, I guess.” Mitzi shrugged, propping her chin on Daryl’s shoulder. “Don’t know how it spread or anything.”

“If I were to kill you, shoot an arrow in your chest,” Daryl pointed down at the nearest corpse. “You’d come back as one of these things. It’s gonna happen to all’a us.”

The inmates were silent until Tomas stepped forward. “Ain’t no way these Robin Hood cats are responsible for killing all these freaks.”

“Must be 50 bodies out here.”

“We have a lot of practice.” Mitzi shifted her weight to her other foot. “We’ve gotten pretty good at it. Efficient.”

Tomas laughed condescendingly, focusing immediately on her. “You tellin’ me you were a part of this, baby?”

She arched an eyebrow and Rick cut her off before she could instigate, shooting a look at her over his shoulder. “Most of the walkers in that courtyard were put down by her. She’s an excellent shot.”

“That so? You got a name, baby girl?”

Daryl shifted and she hooked her arm around his waist, allowing him to keep her firmly behind him. “Not one you need to use.”

“You sure, baby?” He grinned a grin she was sure he thought was charming. “I can show you a good time.”

Daryl moved to step forward and she caught his arm. “Nah, I’m not interested, dude. I have a man.”

“He here?”

Daryl rasped. “You’re lookin’ at ‘em.”

He leered at her for a moment longer, dismissing Daryl. “Where’d you come from?”

Rick shot her a look and she could’ve sworn she heard T-Dog mutter, “I told you so,” under his breath.

Rick stepped into his line of sight. “Atlanta.”

Tomas strutted toward Rick. “Where you headed?”

Rick met him head on. “For now, nowhere.”

Tomas brushed him off. “I guess you can take that area down by the water, should be comfortable.”

“We’re using that field for crops.”

The negotiations broke down after that, if they ever started to begin in earnest. Tomas kept glancing at her and she fought the urge to make it worse by making a face at him. Instead, she ignored him and moved to press against Daryl’s right side so her gun hand would be free.

“What did I tell ya?”

She shrugged, kissing his bicep. “I see your point, just- I can handle myself.”

He nodded. “You can. Ain’t no one arguing with that, but also no reason to start shit.”

She smiled up at him. “I didn’t, not anything that wasn’t already brewing anyways. Tomas is exactly who he seems t’be. Would be regardless of my presence. He’s not gonna last tonight.”

T-Dog ran his hand over his face. “She’s gotta point. He’s been aggressive since we found them.”

“You ain’t comin’ to clear a block for them with us.” He leveled his crossbow at them. “There's already gonna be too many people, too much noise.”

“D-“

“No.” He glanced down at her. “He’s gonna try something. We know that. No need to add extra wood to the fire.”

She sighed. “Fine.”

When Rick had secured half of the grocery for them, they moved back into the cell block. Rick pulled her aside.

“Go back to the cell block. Tomas doesn’t seem to be entirely stable.”

She held her hands in mock-surrender. “I have already been informed. I’m goin’.”

“Aren’t you going to tell me about your mom?”

She settled against the railing, feet dangling over the second floor landing. She shook her head. “No… I didn't know my mom.”

“At all?” Carl looked shocked. “Did she die?”

Mitzi shrugged. “Not as far as I know. She.. she left me with my grandfather not long after I was born.”

He nodded. “Her dad?”

She shook her head again. “No, my dad’s dad. I have never met my mother’s family. She didn’t really want to be a mom so I guess she got her wish.”

“That sucks.”

Reaching out to ruffle his hair, she smiled. “It did, but it was okay for the most part.”

“So what are we gonna talk about?”

“We don’t have to talk.” She leaned her forearms on the bar. “Sometimes it’s good to just sit.”

Carl looked at her and she smiled back.

They were silent for a while, maybe ten minutes. Mitzi leaned over and pulled the mattress her and Daryl had been using over. She laid back, head on the mattress. Carl followed suit, setting his hat on his chest.

“Have you ever lost someone you cared about?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I was really close to my aunt. She died when I was 18.”

“What happened?”

Mitzi winced. “My dad used to use certain substances… uh, recreationally and the man he bought them from showed up at my aunt’s house. He was lookin’ for my dad. He hadn’t paid him, owed him money. My dad wasn’t there, he was at one of his lady friend’s house.”

She sighed deeply. “The man was not in his right mind and he shot her. She died before the paramedics got there.”

Carl stared down at his lap and pondered. “What happened to your dad?”

“How do you mean?”

“When he found out… was he okay?” He turned childlike eyes on her.

Shame building in her chest, she shrugged, lied. “I don’t know. My dad and I didn’t get along.”

Carl nodded. “I killed my mom.”

Mitzi sighed. “You shouldn’t a’hadta.”

“No, it had to be me.” Carl was adamant. “It had to be someone who loved her.”

“That’s true.” She nodded. “But I had to learn this lesson when my aunt died, so I’m gonna pass it along to you too. Just because it can be you, doesn’t mean it needs to be you.”

“There was no one else.” He was starting to sound defensive, shrinking into himself.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Carl. You’re just not meant t’have seen all this shit at your age. It’s our job as adults to protect you as much as we can. We shoulda helped you, darlin’.” Mitzi reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “The way I wished I had been helped.”

He nodded and they fell silent again.

“Were you angry when your aunt died?”

She smiled. “You know me pretty well at this point, kiddo. What do you think?”

He nodded. “I’m not talking about being angry just then but… like after. I’m still angry.”

“And you will be, but yes, also that too. I didn’t speak to my father for years after that.” She sighed. “The key to this, I have learned, is to talk about it, not to try and shove it down.”

“With who?” Carl made a dismissive noise. “My dad is-“

“I’m talking to your dad soon as, but you can always talk to me.” She squeezed at his shoulder again. “You have every right to be angry, kiddo. About your mom, about Shane.”

“You didn’t like Shane.”

“The feeling was mutual, but no, I didn’t like Shane.”

“You beat him up.” There was amusement in his voice.

“To be fair, he started it.” She chuckled. “It’s true that I didn't like Shane but I didn’t want him to die either. You did the right thing then, too. I just hate that you had to.”

Carl sighed. “I just don’t understand why my dad did that. I think I hate him for hurting Shane.”

She nodded. “Sometimes, the relationship between two adults is more complicated than it appears on the outside. I can see why it must be difficult to trust your dad after that, but I have every faith that, while I believe it was the right decision, it was the only decision he felt he could make and I know that it tore him up.”

He bobbed his head absently.

“Take it from me, hun, you can’t keep holdin’ on to this anger. It will eat you alive. Gotta talk about it, not take it out on everyone.”

“I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask.”

“You okay, boss?” She set her gun and knife kit on the desk and boosted herself up onto the desk, sitting across from where Rick sat slumped.

He looked dazed and not particularly present. To the side of the boiler room, down by the boilers, was an absolutely eviscerated walker.

She sighed, and crossed her legs under her. She started cleaning and sharpening her hunting knife, pausing periodically to check on him.

When her knife was cleaned and sharpened to her satisfaction, she holstered it and approached Rick quietly.

Squatting by his side, she spoke in a soft, quiet tone. “Can I clean your knife and gun for’ya, chief?”

He looked at her like he didn’t know who she was.

Slowly, she pulled his knife and gun from their holsters. She set them down as quietly as possible and hoisted herself back on the desk. She set to cleaning his knife with quick, smooth movements.

“She’s…” He sucked in a breath. “She’s gone.”

She paused, giving him her full attention.

“She’s just gone.” His face screwed up like he was in pain. “I’ve not… I wasn’t there.”

She nodded. “Can’t be everywhere.”

“But I wasn’t there… and I haven’t been there, not recently.”

She sighed and set his knife down, moving off the desk to sit next to him.

“I’ve been blaming her. I should’ve been kinder.”

“Blame was going both ways I’m sure.”

He shook his head. “No, she was tryin’ to heal, to bring us back together. I wouldn’t let her.

“You don’t sound like you were ready to, brother.” She patted his knee. “You didn’t know what was gonna happen. Don’t know if it would’ve changed much if you did.“

“I should’ve let her know. Tell her what I was goin’ through. I should’ve talked to her.”

“Sure, but botha ya should’ve. It’s a two way street and healing takes time.” She smiled. “If you coulda done something, if you had known, you would’ve.”

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t talk to her. I didn’t.”

“You couldn’t. There was something that made it too difficult, too painful.”

He sighed and nodded. “She slept with Shane and then, it wasn’t her fault, but Shane became… fixated on her. That night he took me out there to kill me.”

She nodded. “I figured. I was with Daryl and Glenn when they found the kid.”

“She looked at me like I was the crazy one, like I should’ve let him live.”

She sighed. “I’m gonna tell you something my therapist told me-“

He huffed out a laugh. “You had a therapist?”

She shoved him with her elbow, smiling softly. “For a while, yeah. The military fucked me up.”

“What did she tell you?”

“We are not responsible for other people’s emotional responses to us, just doing what we can to be as healthy as we can be.”

“I’m not sure that applies here.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t think that was the healthiest thing that could’ve been done. By any standard.”

She shrugged. “What were your options? Kill Shane, let him kill you, keep him alive after he killed Otis, Randall and tried to kill you?”

He digested that. “Maybe Shane should’ve led us from the beginning. He was already doin’ it.”

“No he wasn’t. Not effectively anyways. He went and got water, stood around with his hands on his hips while other people made decisions, acted as the welcome party. But never really led anything.”

“Other people thought he should lead.”

“Aside from Andrea, who was suckin’ his dick, literally and metaphorically, the only people who thought that, thought that when they were scared. I doubt any of them think that now.” She grinned. “He couldn’t lead himself out of a wet paper bag. That’s why I was willing to follow you when you got to the Quarry. You listened and you considered and you put yourself in danger. Didn’t just make knee-jerk reactionary, self-serving decisions. That would’ve never happened with Shane.”

He chuckled quietly. “So you think I did the right thing? With Shane, I mean.”

“I think you did the only thing. Shane would’ve had to die regardless. Once it became common knowledge that he killed Randall and tried to kill you, it would have been decided and your hand would’ve been forced anyways.”

He nodded, biting at his lip and she stood to grab his knife and gun.

She settled back next to him. “Or we would’ve been distracted by the herd and would’ve spent the last eight months stewing in that tension, watching the two of you battling it out constantly. Lori being stuck in the constant anxiety of Shane’s fixation on her. Our energy and focus constantly split. We would’ve never made it here.”

He smiled sadly. “Or you would’ve killed him.”

She shook her head. “Me n’Daryl would’ve left long before that happened.”

They lapsed into silence and she went back to cleaning his knife and gun.

“Mitzi.”

She hummed.

He rested his head back against the wall, watching her out of the corner of his eye. “What does ‘sucking his dick literally and metaphorically’ mean? How do you suck someone’s dick metaphorically?”

She shrugged. “Y’know what?”

He smiled back, sadly. “What?”

“I don't actually know what I meant by that.” She smiled. “Sometimes I just say shit.”

He chuckled, reaching up to pat her head affectionately. “That tracks.”

She grinned and glanced at Daryl, who shook his head at her.

“What? She has a sword! She’s fuckin’ cool.” She turned back and kept watch as Hershel finished stitching her up.

Rick sighed. “We don’t know her.”

“We know she’s cool.” Mitzi shrugged. “We know she did the hard thing, not the easy thing. Injured. Safe only because she was covered in walker blood. That takes guts.”

“That’s fair.” Rick raked his fingers through his hair.

“How do we know we can trust her?” Oscar, quickly becoming a voice of reason, pondered.

“She wouldn’t have brought the formula if she had ill intentions.” Mitzi leaned against the door, casting a look over her shoulder. “Woulda been easier to keep on marchin’, vengeance or no.”

He nodded. “Could be tryin’ to lure us-“

“She’s one person, despite whatever mad ninja skills she has- she’s one person.”

Axel stepped forward, eager to flatter and please. “The way they talk about you, you coulda taken this place by yourself.”

She snorted. “I’m just one person, too.”

Beth, on edge and tense, shot forward. “This is Maggie and Glenn. Why are we even debating?”

Daryl nodded. “We ain’t. I’ll go after them.”

Mitzi nodded, eyes back on the woman and Hershel. “Me too.”

“Well.. This place sounds pretty secure. You two can’t go alone.”

Beth nodded. “I’ll go.”

Axel was next. “Me too.”

“I’m in.” Oscar rounded out the troop.

Rick took a deep breath in and looked over at Mitzi. “Exfil.”

She nodded, grinning. “And now you got exfil experience too, might make this easier, Officer Friendly.”

“Exfil?” Oscar looked between them.

Rick smirked, nodding sarcastically. “Exfiltration, otherwise known as an extraction. Mitzi has done hundreds of extractions.”

“Hundreds of hundreds.” She corrected, pushing off the doorway. “Let’s get this party started.”

“Okay, we gotta do this fast and smart.”

Rick nodded. “What’s the plan?”

Mitzi turned over her shoulder. “Where did she go?”

Rick followed her eyes and grit his teeth when he didn’t see Michonne. “Damn it!”

She sighed. “Alright, we need to pick the buildings most likely to be where they’re kept.”

Daryl checked his clip. “How? Ain’t no way we’re gonna check in all them buildings. Not with all them guards there.”

She nodded. “It’s not likely to be this close to the gate, I reckon.”

“Right…” Rick pondered. “Too much noise.”

A twig snapped and they turned, guns leveled.

Michonne pointed in another direction, mouthing ‘this way’ at them. Rick nodded and they followed her to a section of fence in a blind spot.

They scaled it quickly and snuck into a dark building.

“This is where you were held?” Rick continued to clear the room, gun held up until Mitzi held her thumb up, indicating that the far side of the room was clear.

“I was questioned.” She corrected him flatly.

He moved to the front facing windows. “Any idea where else they could be?” He peeked out behind the sheets hanging over the windows.

Daryl followed, looking out next to him. He scoffed. “I thought you said there was a curfew.”

Michonne shrugged, anxious and jumpy. “The street is packed during the day. Those are stragglers.”

Rick grimaced. “If anyone comes in here, we’re sitting ducks. We gotta move.”

Mitzi caught Michonne’s eyes, motioning her closer so she could keep her voice low. “You were questioned in here?”

She nodded.

Mitzi stepped closer to her. “Somethin’ minor?”

“I guess.” Michonne shrugged. “I broke into the Governor’s apartment to get my sword. Took out some walkers they had locked up in some sort of arena space.”

“Arena space?” Mitzi looked at Daryl and Rick. “Dollars to donuts.”

Michonne nodded. “They could be there.”

“What if they ain’t?” Daryl moved back towards the back of the room.

Michonne met Daryl’s eyes unflinchingly. “Then we’ll look somewhere else.”

Rick followed Daryl, passing by Michonne with a dismissive: “You said you could help us.”

She bit back. “I'm doing what I can.”

Oscar huffed. “Then where the hell are they?”

Rick motioned to Mitzi and Oscar. They turned and paced back into the pantry space after him.

“If this goes south, we’re cutting her loose.”

They all turned to consider Michonne. Oscar spoke up. “You think she’s leading us into a trap?”

Mitzi sucked on her teeth. “I suppose an arena with walkers would be the place t’do it. But that don’t square, if she wanted to lead us into a trap, she coulda just done it at the gate. No reason to wait and get us inside.”

Daryl nodded his head. “More like the blind leading the blind. Let’s split up.”

There was a knock at the door, keys in the lock, and they all dove for cover behind shelves of canned goods. Mitzi looked over and saw Michonne crouched behind the table.

The man entered casually, like all he expected to find were teenagers up to some mischief.

Mitzi caught Daryl’s eyes. He nodded.

“I know you’re in here. I saw you moving from outside.” He moved deeper into the room. “Alright now. You’re not supposed to be here and you know it. Who’s in here?”

Rick rushed him, holding him at gunpoint and forcing him into his knees. Daryl leaned over and zip-tied his hands behind his back.

“Where are our people?”

The man shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“You’re holding two of our people. Where the hell are they?”

The man stuttered. “I don’t know.”

Rick gagged him and Daryl knocked him out with the butt of his crossbow.

“He’s tellin’ the truth.” Mitzi glanced at Rick. “They’re being kept someplace the normal people don’t know about.

“Gotta be this arena area.” Daryl nodded at Michonne. “It far enough away that people wouldn’t know?”

She nodded. Rick stared her down before nodding.

“Let’s go.”

They snuck out the way they came and followed Michonne to the arena.

Mitzi cast a look around. “Some mad max shit.”

Oscar nodded beside her.

“Mitzi, you got point.”

She nodded and moved in front of Rick as they entered a building made of corrugated metal. They cleared corners at a steady pace until they came up to a window and could hear movement and voices.

They plastered themselves to the wall, waiting a short moment. As soon as it seemed that the people inside the room were about to leave the room, Mitzi signaled them back, nodding to Daryl and Rick.

Rick and Daryl popped the tops on a flash bang and smoke bomb respectively, before tossing them into the small atrium area.

There was a flash and a pop. Smoke filled the room and the men, disoriented and blind, reared back.

Mitzi advanced and while she covered them, Daryl and Rick moved in to get Maggie and Glenn, pulling them back toward the entrance.

One of the men in the smoke popped off a few rounds and Mitzi returned fire, seeing one man hit the ground through the smoke. Rick patted her shoulder and Mitzi backed out behind them.

They backtracked and ducked into another dark building.

“Didn’t think you’d still be running’ with my brother, Lil Bit.”

Mitzi sucked her teeth. “That’s because you ain’t very smart, Merle.”

He laid his arm over her shoulder and she shrugged him off. “Don’t be like that, Mitzi. I helped get Daryl outta there. Returned your man safe and sound.”

She scoffed. “Youre the fuckin’ reason we were there at all. You don’t get to play hero.”

He hummed. “That’s true. Say, you think I can have my turn now, after all’a this time? Think my baby brother would-“

Daryl turned on his heel and shoved at Merle’s shoulder. “Give it a rest.” He put his hand on her shoulder and pushed her forward toward Rick.

Merle cackled. “You ain’t willin’ to share, brother? Ain’t that some shit.”

Daryl grunted and motioned her forward when she turned back to glare at Merle. “This ain’t gonna work if you start fuckin’ with her.”

“Damn, son. Her pussy must be-“

Daryl shoved at him again. “Stop it. You ain’t gonna-“

“Ain’t gonna what?” Merle pressed into his space. “You gonna start telling me what t’do?”

Daryl didn’t back down. “She ain’t some truck stop hooker. You ain’t gonna talk t’her that way.”

“Or else what? What’s gonna happen?”

“She’s gonna kick your ass. Again.” Daryl poked his chest with an aggressive finger. “But it ain’t just about what she’s gonna do. She’s m’girl. I won’t have y’talkin’ ‘bout her that way.”

Daryl paused and looked down at Mitzi, who had pressed her hand to his chest, standing between them.

“Let’s just get back home. We can hash it out there.”

Daryl nodded. She glared at Merle and then moved back toward Rick.

Rick leaned into her. “This ain’t gonna work.”

She sighed. “I know it. And Glenn’s gonna go ballistic when he sees him.”

“Do you think Daryl will leave him?”

She shrugged, casting a look back at Daryl. He caught her eyes, head tilting as if asking her what they were talking about. “I don’t know.”

Rick nodded, calling out for Glenn as they approached the road.

Glenn seemed to zero in on Merle the minute he cleared the car. He leveled his gun at Merle and chaos erupted.

She stepped up to him as Maggie leveled her gun at Michonne, trying to ease them into lowering their weapons. “C’mon, guys.”

Glenn turned on her. “You’re okay with this?”

Mitzi shook her head. “No, but we gotta discuss it and we can’t discuss it here. Not safe.”

Daryl swatted at the gun in Glenn’s hand. “Get that thing outta my face.”

Merle chuckled. “Looks like you gone native, brother.”

Daryl turned and paced back at Merle. “No more than you, hangin’ out with that psycho back there.”

Merle nodded, amused. “Oh yeah man, he is a charmer, gotta tell you that.” He turned to Michonne. “Been putting the wood to your girlfriend, Andrea, back there. Big time, baby.” He moaned lewdly.

“What?” Glenn lowered his handgun. “Andrea’s in Woodbury?”

Daryl nodded. “Right next to the Governor.”

Mitzi put a hand on Glenn’s shoulder. “I doubt she knew y’all were there. Seemed pretty distressed when she saw Daryl.”

Michonne attempted to get at Merle again and Rick cut her off. “I told you to drop that!” She did and he lowered his Python. “You know Andrea?”

She ignored him, focusing on glaring at Merle. Rick stepped into her line of sight. “Hey! Do you know Andrea?”

Merle grinned. “Yep, she does. Her and Blondie spent all winter, cuddling up in the forest. Mhmm… yeah. My Nubian Queen here had two pet walkers. No arms. Cut off the jaws. Kept ‘em in chains. Kinda ironic now that I think about it.”

Mitzi turned over her shoulder. “You are fuckin’ dumb, Merle. You are outnumbered and outclassed and you still don’t have the sense to keep the shit you talk to yourself.”

He spat to the side. “Shut up, Mitzi.”

“Always gotta ruin everything-“

“Spitfire.” Daryl set his hand on her shoulder and she quieted. He pointed back at Merle. “Stop it.”

Merle chuckled, dismissing Daryl with a wave. “Hey man, we snatched them outta the woods. Andrea was close to dying.”

Maggie sighed. “Is that why she’s with him?”

Merle nodded. “Yeah.. snug as two little bugs. So what are you gonna do now, sheriff? Surrounded by a buncha liars, thugs and cowards?”

Rick snarled. “Shut up!”

“Oh man, lookit this? Pathetic. All these guns and no bullets in ‘em.”

Daryl got in his face. “Merle, shut up!”

Merle responded in kind and there was a brief bout of chaos, Glenn attempting to push past her.

She focused on gently keeping Glenn back and jumped when Merle’s voice ceased suddenly. His body hit the forest floor and she turned to look up at Rick, Python held up, butt first.

She glanced at Daryl, who nodded at Rick. Slipping her rifle over her head and off her shoulder, she passed it to Daryl and moved to help Glenn down the small incline toward the car.

When Merle was conscious and everyone was back near the car, Rick spoke.

“It won’t work.”

Daryl sighed. “It’s gotta.”

“It’ll stir things up.”

She rubbed at her neck as Daryl made his case, adamant that his brother wasn’t a rapist.

Mitzi sighed. “He doesn’t have to be a rapist to be dangerous. He tortured Glenn. They were clearly about to execute them. He was okay with that, led the men that did that.”

Daryl huffed and ignored her, shaking her off when she reached for him. He focused on Rick. “You gonna cut Merle loose and bring the last samurai home with us?”

Rick shook his head. “She’s not coming back.”

Maggie shook her head. “She’s not in a state to be on her own.”

Glenn nodded. “She did bring you guys to us.”

“And ditched us.”

“At least let my dad stitch her up.”

Rick shocked his head. ”She’s too unpredictable.”

Mitzi kicked at a piece of gravel, looking down. “She doesn’t say enough and I don’t think any of us feel comfortable trusting what she does say.”

“That’s right,” Daryl nodded, staring out at Michonne. “We don’t know who she is. But Merle- Merle’s blood.”

Glenn grunted. “No. Merle is your blood. My blood, my family, is standing right here and waiting for us back at the prison.”

Rick leaned in. “And you’re part of that family. But he’s not. He’s not.”

Daryl glanced down at her then back at Rick and shrugged. “Man, y’all don’t know.” He paused. “Fine. We’ll fend for ourselves.” He reached out for Mitzi.

Glenn shook his head. “That’s not what I was saying.”

“No him. No us.” He squeezed Mitzi’s shoulder and she seemed to snap back to reality.

She rested back. “What?”

Daryl stared down at her, willing her to agree with him. “We’ll go. Fend for ourselves.”

She stepped out of the circle, shaking her head. “We just started a war with a psychopath to get Glenn and Maggie back. You want to leave?”

Daryl frowned. “Mitz-“

Mitzi stalked a couple feet away, still fighting to believe this was real. She turned toward the car and Merle caught her eye, grinning.

Daryl moved closer to her. “Baby, I can’t stay where m’brother-“

“D. Stop.” She cut him off. “I need to think.”

“No time.” He shook his head. “You gotta make a decision.”

“A decision?” She gaped at him. “Between your brother and the people I just risked my ass to save?”

“Between me-“

“Don’t do this. Don’t make this personal.”

“How is this not personal?”

“Because it’s not you, baby, it’s him. He is not you.” She gestured at Merle. “He’s the one who kidnapped and tortured Glenn and Maggie. The one who started windin’ you up the minute he saw ya.”

“Windin’ me up?” His face colored. “He's an asshole but he ain’t manipulative.”

“Yes, he is. If he wanted to come back with you, why did he start instigating shit?”

He made a frustrated motion with his hand. “That’s just who he is.”

“Yes! A manipulative asshole.” She threw her hands up. “That’s beside the point. D, we have been with these people for nearly a year.”

“So? I’ve known Merle my entire life.”

“They are family, baby. I won’t leave them.”

“What ‘bout me?” He locked his jaw. “You’ll leave me, but not them.”

“I'm not leaving, you are.” She deflated. “You're making the decision to leave. What am I supposed t’do?”

“Come with me!” He fought to keep his voice down.

She sucked in a breath. “Daryl, I can’t… I need to think.”

“I ain't leavin’ my brother again.” He reached out for her. She sidestepped him. “He’s m’blood.”

She shook her head, trying to clear it enough to see a way out of this.

Daryl scoffed and moved away, back towards Rick. “Well, guess that decides it. It’s always been me and Merle before this.”

She fought to breathe, chest clenching up. “Just give me time to think.”

“You made your choice.” He threw over his shoulder.

She squatted, ignoring whatever further discussion was being had and focusing on breathing normally. Maggie joined her, hand rubbing at her back.

Mitzi’s eyes caught Daryl’s. She could see him visibly react, sucking in air like she had forced it from his lungs.

“Where’s Mitzi?”

Glenn nodded at the window. “‘Main Guard tower.”

Daryl squinted at him. “She went back out there?”

“Never left.” Hershel kept his eye on Merle. “Hasn’t stepped out of the guard tower since she got back. Hasn’t spoken a word.”

“The attack was the first we’ve seen of her since we got back.” Glenn supplied, cutting his eyes to glare at Merle. “Maggie tried to go up there, check on her. Mitzi wouldn’t open the door.”

“I doubt she’s eaten.” Maggie nodded. “The only way we knew she’s still alive is the sound of her rifle. Those walkers out past the field were all her. She was picking them off yesterday.”

“I don’t want her to be upset, but she might’ve solved a problem for us.” Carol crossed her arms over her chest. “I bet she’s already cleared the field.”

Hershel nodded. “That’s true.”

Daryl sucked in a breath and nodded. “Right. I’ll go get her.”

Glenn made a face. “Good luck and godspeed. She’s pretty angry.”

“You chasing’ after your girl, brother?” Merle cackled. “Just let her untwist her panties, she’ll come ‘round.“

Daryl shook his head. “Shut up, Merle.”

“So that lil bit of redhead cooze is worth your dignity? Thought I raised you better.” He sucked on his tongue. “Gotcha all pussy-whipped. What a shame.”

Daryl rotated his shoulder, agitated. “I said, ‘Shut the fuck up, Merle’.”

Merle opened his mouth to speak, Glenn cut him off, grinning maliciously. “You don’t remember Mitzi that well, d’ya Merle?”

“Course I remember her.” Merle made a face. “What does that have t’do with anythin’?”

“You know what they say about redheads.” Glenn glanced up at Merle. “And she’s fuckin’ pissed at you. But telling you what to do, but I would be, at the very least, nervous.”

Merle glanced at Daryl, who shrugged. Glenn continued. “Pretty sure the rumor was that she had kicked your ass back at the old camp. If she didn’t then…” he whistled. “I’m sure she’s up for it now.”

Merle dismissed him with a wave. “Got a couple pot shots off. I ain’t worried. I outweigh-“

“So did Shane and she beat the holy shit out of Shane.”

Maggie nodded. “Shane couldn’t even put up a fight.”

Merle ignored them.

“I know you’re pissed. Y’got every right.”

She didn’t look at him, didn’t react.

“Spitfire.”

She huddled down deeper into herself, pressing into the corner, knees to her chest.

He sighed and sat next to her. She crossed her arms across her chest, effectively hugging her M110.

He rubbed a hand over his face. “He’s my brother.”

“He’s blood.”

He nodded.

“So fuck me then.”

He sucked in a breath. “I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t need to.” She started picking at her cuticles.

“Look.. I know, I fucked up.”

She shook her head, twisting her lips in a dismissive moue. “Nah, that’s just how it is.”

“How what is?”

“It. Life.”

“Baby-“

“Fuck off.” Her thumb bled. “Go find your brother.”

He reached over to cover her fidgeting hands. She jerked away.

He let his head hang, rubbing over the back of his head. “Mitz-“

“What do you want?” She still wasn’t looking at him, still picking at her cuticles.

“You t’talk t’me.” He shifted so he was looking at her more fully.

She grunted, eyes on her now-bleeding ring finger. “For what purpose?”

“What purpose?” He dropped his head against the wall behind him. “Baby, I… I fuckin’ suck at this. I don’t know how t’explain what-“ he made a frustrated noise. “I know I hurt ya, I ain’t never seen you look that way, like I had just sucker punched ya.”

He looked up and caught her eyes. “M’sorry.”

She didn’t look the way he expected. No stormy anger, no piercing glare. She looked frightened, eyes wide, pupils darting around the small room. Daryl felt his chest tighten.

She stood and shouldered her rifle. “I need to shoot somethin’.”

She walked onto the balcony, spending the next ten minutes popping off walkers. When the magazine was empty, she turned and sucked in a shaky breath.

“I don’t generally assume people like me. My parents didn't even like me.” She gestured at the prison. “I’m just now starting to not struggle to believe that they might give a fuck about me. I am not dumb enough to do that generally.”

He stood, approaching her with quiet, cautious steps like she was a frightened animal.

“But… I think I was-“ She squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in a harsh breath. “I was dumb enough to believe you did.”

She rubbed at her face, shielding her eyes from his. “I know we’ve never really talked ‘bout it so maybe this is partially my fault. I should’ve known, shouldn’t ‘ve assumed but-“

He shook his head. “Baby, stop. Look at me.”

She wouldn’t, eyes focusing down at the floor. She shook her head, stepping away from him as he reached for her. “I just thought you’d at least consider me, but maybe that’s an overstatement of what this is.”

He cupped her shoulders slowly, gently, pressing his forehead to her temple.

He could feel the tension in her body, the occasional heaving convulsion, like her body wanted to sob but she wasn’t letting it. “Baby-“

She shook her head, biting her lip hard enough to bleed.

“Mitzi.” He grabbed the rifle from her limp hand, setting it against the wall behind him. “Baby, you ain’t overstatin’ nothin’.”

She scoffed, tears starting fall despite her attempts to control it, and tried to pull away.

He tutted, hand sliding from her shoulder to her jaw. “Don’t leave. We ain’t done.”

“You walked away, D. You looked me in my eye, threw down an impossible ultimatum and walked away. Didn’t even give me time to process, to understand, to make any kinda decision.” She shrugged powerlessly. “That kinda feels done.”

“Well, we ain’t.” His voice was adamant. “You said you were dumb enough to believe I gave a fuck about ya. I do. Don’t hafta believe anythin’, it’s true.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, I’ll bite. You give a fuck. What happened then? I don’t get it so you’re gonna hafta explain it. It sure doesn’t square with you givin’ even an iota of a fuck ‘bout me.”

He sighed, frustrated with his own lack of verbosity. “I know why I did it.” She shook her head and tried to pull away. He held her fast and squeezed her shoulders. “I’m not sayin’ it was the right call, but I know why I did it. I hate that I hurt’ya, but I did th’only thing I could think of. He’s m’brother.”

She breathed deep. “I appreciate that, I do. But Glenn is my brother, Maggie is my sister. They are part of our family.” She pointed between them. “Part of our family that Merle hurt.”

He nodded absently, squinting at her.

“Every day we chose to help them- and us -survive to the next day, we were choosing them.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “We talked about leavin’, I know that, but we didn’t. We stayed. That choice made them our family. They are our family now.”

He looked hurt. “So if I had given ya time t’think you wouldn’t a’left with me?”

She rubbed at her sternum and shrugged. “I don’t know. It woulda been difficult but we coulda talked about it. Preferably, here, where we are safe. Not out there in the middle’a nowhere with Glenn unable to walk.”

Daryl shook his head. “They wouldn’t a’let him come back.”

“Baby, what did ya expect? Your brother tortured them. If we had taken time to think, we coulda worked somethin’ out.”

He nodded. “A’ight. Say we had, what could we have done?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. Keep him close? Set him up in a guard tower until amends could be made. He woulda needed to be part of that, though, woulda needed to want to make amends.”

He rubbed his hands over the back of his head. “Wasn’t too keen on that. Still isn’t.”

She nodded. “And what I said stands. Merle started windin’ you up the minute he laid eyes on ya. Didn’t want to follow the rules. Maybe he didn’t want to be under Rick’s thumb. I dunno, but Merle wants things his way.”

He sighed. “Yeah, you were right. Merle’s a stubborn suma’bitch. Started talking’ shit the minute we left. M’sorry.”

She breathed deep. “I’m sorry too. I know you weren’t tryin’ to force my hand, just lookin’ for support-“

He shook his head. “Ain’t no reason to apologize. I saw that look on your face every time I blinked while I was out there. Probably see it in my sleep tonight.”

She rubbed at her forehead and his hand shifted, massaging at the back of her neck. Stepping fully against him, she pressed her face into his chest.

“And y’gotta know that everyone down there loves the shit outta ya. You’re their family, too.”

She shrugged. “I’m convenient.”

He wrapped himself around her, shaking his head into her hair.

“Ain’t nuthin’ convenient ‘bout you, woman.”

She was silent for a spell and Daryl wanted to knock his own teeth in when she started shaking against him.

He pushed her lightly away only to realize she was laughing.

“I don’t know if that was a compliment or not.”

He shrugged and she reached up to brush the hair out of his eyes. He knocked his forehead against hers.

“Let’s go back.”

She nodded and leaned over to pick up her rifle.

“I am sorry.”

She looked up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You are forgiven.”

She set her cleaning kits down and set to cleaning the group’s cache of weaponry. She was breaking down a pistol when she saw Merle sit down across from her.

“Spitfire-”

She didn’t look at him. “Daryl calls me that. No one else.”

“Now, now…” He hummed. “Y’still angry with me?”

“Yeah.” She fed a barrel brush through the pistol’s barrel with staccato movements that bordered on violent. She glanced at Merle. “How’d ya know?”

He seemed to hesitate. She smiled sharply. “You rememberin’ the day you met me?”

He made a face, shaking his head. “No… no, I just think that… seein’ as you’re with m’brother and I’m not leavin’ him any time soon, we should come to some sorta agreement.”

“Like what?” She set down the barrel with an echoing click.

“Like you stay outta m’way, I stay outta yours.”

She grinned. “You in my way right now, though.” She reassembled the gun and reached for another one. She checked the clip and pulled back the slider. Catching his eye and holding it, she test-fired the empty weapon, pointing it at the ground.

He shifted. “How so?”

“This is my home, these people are my family, your brother is my partner. Anythin’ or anyone who thinks t’get between me n’them is in my way.”

He held up his hands. “I ain’t tryin’ to get in between you n’my brother.”

“Coulda fooled me.” She broke down the gun, maintaining eye contact. “Daryl told me what y’all talked about while you were out there. I know you care for him, I do, but your way of caring fuckin’ sucks.”

He nodded vaguely, rubbing a hand over his neck.

“Daryl is not the same little brother you knew a year ago.” She cleaned the barrel. “He has grown and changed. He’s stronger, more confident, happier. And I’ll be damned if you ruin it, if you start breakin’ him down the way your father broke you two down. Makin’ him doubt himself, doubt his decisions.”

Merle sighed. “So how do we do this? Can’t imagine you wanna be at odds until the end of time.”

“You can start by treating Daryl with some respect. Treat him like a man, not some broken, little boy you can boss around.”

He nodded.

“And you can stop bein’ an asshole.” She grinned. “Tall ask, I know, but stop antagonizing people for no good reason.”

He winced comically. “You don’t ask a lot, do’ya, Lil Bit?”

“Nothin’ a big, strong, tough man like yourself can’t handle.”

“Must not have been many walkers.”

Andrea looked up at her and shook her head. “Daryl and Martinez are comparing dicks.”

“Ah…” Mitzi chuckled. “Men, amiright?”

“You would think that with the end of the world, people would shake some old habits.”

“That ain’t ever gonna change, hun. I think it’s ingrained in them. In us too… though it looks different.”

Andrea considered her quietly. “What looks different?”

“Competition. I think it’s instinctual. Keeps the whole race goin’ forward.”

“Maybe so.”

“Speakin’ of men…” Mitzi sighed and sat on the bench next to Andrea. “You sure know how to pick ‘em.”

Andrea sucked in a breath, gearing up for an argument.

“I’m teasing, chill. You obviously didn’t know he was bat-shit.” Mitzi grinned. “Though I would think someone as smart as you would be better at seeing the signs, it’s still not your fault.”

Andrea nodded. “Thank you for that. I’m having a hard time remembering that it’s not my fault.”

Mitzi sighed. “That’s hard to do sometimes.”

“Michonne knew. She tried to tell me.” Andrea rubbed a hand over her face.

“She seems like a very intuitive person. Why didn’t you listen?”

“I…” Andrea stuttered. “I was tired. I wanted what he offered. The safety, the rest.”

“He preyed on your weaknesses.” Mitzi nodded. “I knew someone like him when I was in the military. Charming suma’bitch but I could smell crazy on ‘em.”

“Did you ever date him?”

Mitzi barked out a laugh. “Nah, he wouldn’t a’wanted me. Being heavily tattooed and mouthy is usually a pretty good deterrent for his type.” She fiddled with her scope. “He went after this pretty little Air Force liaison.”

Andrea hummed. “What happened?”

“She was married. He got her pregnant while on tour, when her husband couldn’t have. Pretended like he didn’t know she was married. Had connections that kept him outta hot water. They prosecuted her for adultery.”

Andrea looked uncomfortable. “I didn’t know there were laws like that still on the books.”

“Military does what it wants.”

“Do you know what happened after that?”

Mitzi sighed. “Nope. Had to keep my nose outta it. Woulda killed him.”

They were silent for a while, until Daryl and Martinez returned, the former holding out a fresh cigarette to her.

She smiled up at him, accepting his chaste kiss. “Thank you, baby.”

Nodding, he eyed them and lit the cigarette for her, moving back towards the door to check the perimeter.

Mitzi turned her head to blow the smoke away from Andrea. “He’s gonna kill ya, y’know that right?”

Andrea shook her head. “Phillip wouldn’t-“

“Don’t be dumb.” Mitzi caught her eyes. “Phillip is gonna do whatever it takes to get whatever it is he wants.”

Andrea sighed heavily. “Carol told me to kill him after sleeping with him.”

“A little Black Widow action.” Mitzi nodded. “Not a bad idea.”

“I don’t know if I can… do that.”

The doors started opening and Mitzi nodded at Daryl, standing up. “Better figure it out, princess. Clock’s a’tickin’.”

They entered into the carnage with quick, quiet steps, dispatching walkers here and there as quietly as they could.

She turned to check their blind spot, stepping backwards and nearly running into Daryl’s back when he pulled up short.

Looking around him, she bit at her lip. Merle’s corpse lifted his head.

His shoulders started to shake and she pressed her forehead against his shoulder. “I’m sorry, baby.”

He sucked a deep breath in as Merle’s corpse stood, still chewing on the man laying on the ground beneath him.

He passed her his crossbow and pulled his knife, starting to sob in earnest. Shouldering her rifle, she wrapped her arms around the crossbow.

Daryl knocked Merle’s corpse back, the walker immediately coming back again. Merle snarled as Daryl stabbed him in the shoulder, using the knife to gain control of the bigger body. He shoved the walker over and followed it down, stabbing the knife into its head and chest repeatedly.

She stayed silent, allowing him to vent his grief and frustration without comment or judgment. She kept an eye on the other walkers, hand on her knife in case one of them caught wind of their presence.

Body racked with heavy sobs, he stayed hunched over Merle’s body. After a few moments, she walked over and squeezed his shoulder.

“C’mon, baby. Let’s get him in the barn. Can’t bury him but we can at least get him out of the sun.”

Daryl pulled his bandana out of his pocket and wiped his face. He nodded and stood, taking his bow back from her and throwing the shoulder strap over his shoulder. Together, they dragged Merle’s body into the barn.

Once they cleared the room of any potential threat, Mitzi knelt to arrange his body respectfully and ensure that his eyes were closed.

“Bye, Merle.”

She looked up at him and he nodded, blinking away tears. He reached over and tapped at Merle’s chest. He turned and she followed him out.

They left and were silent for a long while as they worked their way back to the prison.

“I’m glad ya came with me.” Daryl breathed deep. “You didn’t hafta.”

She nodded and reached over to squeeze his side. “Course I did. You’re my man. Not gonna let you do that by yourself.”

Daryl leaned over briefly to kiss her head, muttering something into her hair.

She wrapped her arm around his waist. “What was that?”

He shook his head. “You ain’t gonna wanna hear it.”

She made a face at him. “You don’t know that.”

He muttered something under his breath, turning away from her to check the horizon.

“D, say it to my fuckin’ face.” She smiled, taking the sting out of her words.

He sucked in a breath and turned back. “Love ya.” He cleared his throat. “I love you.”

She gaped at him.

Daryl looked uncomfortable, making to move ahead. She grabbed his hand and pulled him back.

“Caught me off guard, s’all.” She pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you too.”

Part 5

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction

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circuscountdowns · 2 months

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Hi! Wanted to start off by saying that I LOVE your cotl art its such a huge inspiration to me :D! I recently picked up drawing again and I've unfortunately been upset? envious?! of others' skills and just wanted to ask if you ever experienced this as a fellow artist and if so how do you not do that lol. Sorry for the weird question. I just thought some insight and advice from a fellow artist could helo. BUT I hope you still have a nice day and look forward to any more cotl art or anything you draw really :D!!! (also is okay if you don't answer it is a loaded question I just be in a silly goofy mood lately okay bye!)

oh wow being on the receiving end of a question like this is surreal, I’m honored my work inspires you! Thank u, you’re sweet, it’s not a loaded question at all! Here’s my long reply sorry

so unfortunately that comparing yourself to others thing doesn’t go away ever asdfgjkl. I suffer it every day, it sucks, feels bad. I’ve had industry people tell me they feel this way and they’ll have some of the most gorgeous visdev/boards/animation I’ve ever seen. Disheartening to hear, But! I’m a big believer that comparing your artworks with others is best used as a tool and not a punishment to yourself!

When looking at art you like, try to turn thoughts of, “Man I wish my stuff looked like that, my shit sucks,” to, “What is it that I like about this piece? The line art? The perspective?” Sometimes I’ll see work with thin line art and I’ll get an itch, and I’ll draw something with thin line art. It’s a conscious effort of keepin emotion out of that itch, keeping it as, “I saw art with thin lines, I want to do that. Yay I did that!” Compartmentalize it, the itch was simply to do thin line work, not to remake the piece you were inspired by. And you got a piece of art out of it, and a single piece is progress no matter how small!

If you want to compare, do it methodically! Why does my work look different (never use the words better or worse)! Oh, I see my piece doesn’t follow the rule of thirds, so the framing is different, I’ll be aware of that next time if it bothers me. Or, Oh I see they shade by hatching along with the form, I’ve just been going horizontally, I’ll try that other way!

it’s a learning curve of training yourself, like all corrective behavior.

like, I kinda have the warning feeling of dread when I’m about to compare my work with something, so before the self-deprecating thought can even start I have to think What do I Like about this?

I’m no expert at it, though. Actually getting myself to think this way is a struggle, but I find when I make Thoughtful Observations I level up. Not by a lot most times, but yknow.

and this part is just my personal experience:

Fanart and the internet can be the biggest Art skill killer sometimes. Get offline and cater to the audience that Really matters to your passion: You! I improved the most by spending 2-3 years doing doodles/comics/models for my dnd campaign ocs because I was that obsessed and I simply wanted to have it for me!

and after all that, then there’s the hardest skill of just accepting your work as is.

like, to me, my work is just scribbles. I see other artists’ stuff and go “Man they’re so good at comics and colors, man, why can’t I color?” But do I need to??? I don’t like coloring, do I need to be good at it? This isn’t a career, this is supposed to be fun! I scribble because I like it! I’m glad this persons good at coloring, I don’t need to be! Yay!

if I Want to be good at it, I’ll take the steps to get there! But if not, my scribbles are just fine :) I love black and white and values

I’ve been having that one on repeat for a while. It helps

(acceptance and denial go hand in hand btw lol they sound the same)

I wish there was a little off button for envy, but ah well! I hope that you take comfort in knowing we are all feeling it, and find joy in even the smallest little doodle you make! Have fun stay goofy!

#I wrote this in part so it might be a rambly mess.#I have a difficult relationship with art after 5 years of college for it. Cotl has been helping me find ways to love art again.#ty for liking my work!

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sasukimimochi · 1 year

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So i decided to repost the original sketches [plus one i thought was appropriate to put with these, since its got a butt i put it under the cut] and delete the cringe original post- since it didn't get any notes anyway- after cleaning them up/adding a block of color behind them [plus me toying with demon wwx's colors] so i hope you enjoy them!! More about the fic under the cut :D

The extra sketch that has a bumbum which is why the read more line. [plus the extra info and all].

Scroll to the bottom for links! [up to date as of 3/25/2023]

“Clash of Immortals” / COI is an upcoming project I’m super excited about with Demon WWX and Angel LWJ. I use my own version of hell/heaven for this, allowing for lots of fun details and some creatures unique to my universe, including A-Yuan who is a “Garden of Eden” [not drawn yet].

Information i can share!

Demon WWX / Wei Wuxian - Demon type: A black-blue feathered “Captive” or “Fallen” - a type of demon caused by cutting an angel’s ascension short as they are being lifted into the heavens, caused by demons trying to prevent as many new angels from entering heaven as possible. This means originally he was supposed to become an angel, but his line was cut and he was dragged past hell’s gates, causing him to descend instead of ascend once he passed through the gate.

This leaves a nasty scar on his back from the hook used to pull him up [if ascended the hook will disappear harmlessly] and this is why they are also nicknamed "Hook Demons" as they will sometimes even go around with the hook still in their back, just filed down, because they are going through a vital area and can't be fully removed.

Angel LWJ / Lan Wangji - Nearly a white wing, shares a nearly identical wing color to LXC, His is white with minimal jade undertones; he has MANY piercings to compensate his abilities in order to prevent his body from tearing apart. He does however have a unique trait- two of his flight feathers [one on each side] are completely black [I will test this with his design so don't hold me to this]. After his descent heaven is a bit perplexed- they allow this type of movement but LWJ is a very important for heaven’s force of angels, as one of the most powerful.

Fun Facts ;]

When they see each other for the first time as angel/demon they bristle, [in my universe, angels and demons feel wrong when in each other's presence, even if they're very soft and sweet. It'd probably be a good mirror to how LWJ and WWX don't necessarily get along in the actual series when they first meet too.] but then it’s a cheery reunion- LWJ might be somewhat uncomfortable, but WWX tames the sensation more easily as he is nearly unrestrained in power.

Someone comes within 50 feet of A-Yuan and Wei Wuxian sends the person’s heart to their throat just by looking at them despite this being a bad habit he probably shouldn’t use around the "Garden of Eden."*

*original species invented which will be explained better in story, I don't wanna spoil too much

and then we have "BED" HABITS

WWX is aggressive as all hell with everyone else besides his kind [in hell anyway bc he doesn't like everyone's attitude] -not in an intimate way he wouldn't do anything with anyone else- but becomes tame with LWJ, it's like a switch gets flipped. LWJ is the growling demon in bed while WWX is the purring angel, despite their anatomy quite clearly showing otherwise; and let me tell u I love purring demons and growling angels

NO ONE believes him when LWJ says wwx isnt the aggressive one, thinking the demon is tainting their precious second jade despite wwx not having a choice about his demonhood. LWJ be like: we still husbands regardless of who's the more aggressive one anyway. Yes, I’ve just decided we’re still married no extra ceremony required.

my COI music playlist can be found here. My favorite COI song is this one: "Into Darkness" by Thomas Bergersen.

all art in this post drawn in drawpile and edited on clip studio paint

Here's all the sketches for COI in order! ♥️ They update regularly on my original COI post [you are here] / the mdzs ff masterpost.

OG POST - Demon WWX & Angel LWJ [you are here].

COI - MXY YLLZ WWX Demon WIP COI - Chibi kisses COI - Cuddles COI - Slumber COI - hugs COI - Hellscape Concept art [ficlet included in this post] COI - Er-Gege COI - Marks COI - Reunion COI - Thank you! COI - I'm Home! (Previews) COI - I'm Home! ...

Reddit Posts!

See the OG Reddit post here [contains 11 drawings] Rough Hellscape Concept art [has more art here that i didn't post on Tumblr!] Slumber Hellscape Concept art [same as Tumblr] hugs/hold er-gege reunion Thanks [separated drawings] Marks Reunion Thank you! I'm Home!

See the Explicit™ COI ficlet here [i can't post this on tumblr, so i posted this on Reddit, sorry!

See the first peek at Ch 1 of COI here!

You can find all my other projects here!

Did you get this far? :0 hello! Thank you for reading it all ♥️ ♥️ ♥️

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good-beanswrites · 4 months

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Haruka clenched his fists. “Y-you would be surprised if you woke up and -- and -- and your cell was full of ice cream!

I was just thinking of this line from your last Mikoto drabble and wondered… Can you make this happen?

I certainly can >:3 I tried for a while to frame this as straight-up comedy, but it actually worked so much better as something sweet, with silly lines here and there :) Thank you so much for the request, it was so fun!! (Also, I wrote John using Mikoto's name for ease, but in my mind he's switching between first person pronouns.)

There was someone unexpected in cell 009.

No, no, it’s not like that. Everyone was very aware that there were two distinct residents of that cell. John himself was very aware of his position in that cell.

The thing was, someone else ended up in there, too.

John kept his eyes shut, feigning sleep. The other person was here on a mission. They’d slipped in without creaking the metal door. Their footsteps were nearly inaudible against the floor. He would have thought it was Kotoko, with skills like that, but she would have leapt to an attack. This person was busy doing… something.

He strained his ears. It was impossible to tell their goal. They were going in and out, moving things around. Was it a trap? There weren’t enough materials in the prison to set a trap. Were they stealing things from around the room? He had nothing of value. Plus, he was sure Mikoto would have given anything to anyone who asked. What, then?

Unable to come to any conclusion, he readied himself. He’d protect himself. He always did.

In one fluid motion, he rolled out of the bed and pinned the other to the ground. The perpetrator let out a high-pitched squeak. Impossibly wide and frightened eyes looked up at him.

“Haruka…?” That was the last person he was expecting. John squinted around the room. “What the --”

Ice cream. He didn’t know what it meant, but that’s what Haruka had been arranging. Dishes and dishes of ice cream. Everywhere. Plates stacked on the desk. Bowls strewn across the floor. All vanilla. There was a scattering of toppings; some with colorful sprinkles and others dripping with chocolate sauce. When he’d tackled the poor boy, he sent another dish of it clattering across the ground.

“I’m sorry! Ah, I-I, ah, I’m sorry!” Haruka squeezed his eyes shut. “It-it’s a, it was a surprise, for you! For M-m-mikoto…!”

“A surprise?”

“The other d-day he said, we were, we were talking ab-bout --”

“He asked for this?”

“Uh, no, but --”

“He didn’t know about it?” John’s eyes narrowed. “It’s some kinda prank?”

“NO! No, n-no I’m not being m-mean. It was f-fun. A fun surprise.” Haruka held his palms up, unable to make his smile anything but panicked. “...Surprise!”

John stared.

Despite how nonsensical the whole situation was, there didn’t seem to be any danger. He rose. Haruka scrambled to his feet.

John gestured to the extensive supply of sweets around them. “How did you get all this together, anyway?”

“O-oh!” Haruka wrung his hands. “I was, uh, planning it for a while. I requested ice cream three times in a row. And I n-never ate mine for dessert. I’ve been saving it. Es asked why, b-but they still let me keep it.”

“And why did you? Why do all this for Mikoto?”

“I t-told you, it was sup-supposed to be fun...”

John braced himself against the desk. He was just wondering how long it would take to take care of this mess. He mused, “it’s all going to melt.”

He might as well have thrown a punch, the way Haruka’s expression shifted. “I’m sorry! I’m -- I… I didn’t think of that…”

“Eh? You don’t need to apologize or anything. It’s fine.”

They fell into silence. Haruka shifted on his feet.

“Y-you… can have it, if you want. The ice cream. I didn’t let anyone else have it but-but, you can, I think. ”

“I don’t want the ice cream.” He wanted to be left alone. He wanted the cell clean so Mikoto didn't stress out about cleaning it. He wanted to avoid being bothered by bizarre ‘surprises’ first thing in the morning.

His stomach disagreed, apparently. It let out a loud grumble. Both prisoners looked over.

He muttered a curse. With a huff, he picked up one of the bowls.

“Alright. But even if I did eat this, or Mikoto did, there’s no way I could finish it all.” He shoved it into Haruka’s hands. “You made this mess, you’re gonna help me deal with it.”

The boy nodded frantically.

“Come on, you can sit here. Pass me that one, with the syrup. And hurry it up.”

#milgram #mikoto kayano #john milgram #haruka sakurai #(they hardly make a dent in it)#john makes sure haruka doesnt get a stomachache but now hes left with a cell full of dessert ;--;#maybe hed enlist the others to help...#john doesnt quite Get It - he still thinks somethings suspicious #hes never done anything just for the fun of it before #but haruka is so genuine he eases up after a bit #and ends up enjoying the ice cream at least :3 #i dont think i mentioned which trial it was for the first drabble but this is definitely after john has started appearing #mikoto himself may not be ready to accept john but in my mind every other prisoner is very familiar with him #though they dont necessarily Expect him a lot of the time #es is dealing with so much t2 shit they dont really care if haruka keeps an elaborate stash of ice cream in the milgram smart fridge...#thank you so much for the request haha! this was a ton of fun :D #theyd have interesting interactions... i kept this one simple and sweet but theres a lot going on there....#drabbles

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nami-moittli · 2 months

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Diasomnia time!

Yes, Lilia is a cheater. Anyway-

Noivern is just a given, and I’m not entirely sure what Gliscor is, I’m sure that it’s obvious, but it’s bat-like enough for me and suits him better than something Crowbat or smth. Grimmsnarl is both a dark type and fairy type, plus it does fit him well so yea. Both Tinkaton and Bewear are cute yet could easily kill you. Also I saw a cute fanart of Lilia with a Tinkaton once, so I had to give him one. Kangaskhan bc Lilia is also a parent and Sneasler bc I wanted to give Lilia a Hisuan pkmn and I thought Sneasler fit him

Thoughts: electric and fairy pkmn. Along with normal and fighting types bc of the half-human thing and him being a guard for Malleus. Zebstrika bc equestrian club (and also that fanart of Sebek calling his Zebstrika a Unovian Rapidash?? I love him and that fanart) Manectric bc electric plus it just suited him. Mawile bc I wanted a fairy type and idk. Just wanted to give him another fairy type. Granbull bc it’s a fairy type that doesn’t look like one and I thought that it just reminded me of him!! Gallade, like I said, is bc of the fact that Sebek is one of Mal’s guards, and finally he has an Eevee that still hasn’t evolved yet. It just doesn’t want to choose!

Some pretty easy picks for him. Musharna and Shiinotic due to his narcolepsy, Galarian Rapidash bc of equestrian club, Aegislash bc just like Sebek, Silver’s one of Mal’s guards (plus Silv is partially based on the sword that kills Maleficent, or at least, is theorized to be) and Floette bc fairy type and it gives me his vibes. I will say that I’d want it to have a purple flower (though I do not think those exist in canon pkmn) bc I associate three different twst characters with the same flower, and so each of them has to have a different coloration of the flower, and Silver gets the purple poppy. Driftloon is there bc I’ve seen people give him one and I think it’s a funny idea, so I gave him one too

Malleus actually hates us/j

But fr, I once saw someone give him 12 pkmn, and, yeah. Mal would be the kind to do that. I did only give him 11 tho! So, not as bad! (Unless he pulls a Volo and has Giratina pull out it’s original form, then yeah, 12 pkmn, but oh well-)

My thoughts: d r a g o n & legendaries. + Porygon bc of his tomodatchi. Oh and Florges bc of Maleficent’s thorn + queen stuff. And I like to associate Mal with black poppies, but again, I don’t think that coloration exists in pkmn? Just imagine, okay? (Maybe I should’ve given Ortho a white Flebebe lol) Cresselia Does Not want to be on Mal’s team I feel. Maybe if this AU had an actual plot line then I’d be able to say that during Malleus’s rampage, Cresselia changes teams. The only other thing I have to say is that I chose Zekrom bc 1) lightning and 2) Zekrom’s theme is ideals. So, yeah. Plus color coding! How wonderful it worked out that way!

As a bonus, I did give everyone else a legendary too, for again, hypothetical plot line reasons

Yuu would have Reshiram, representing truth and inversing Malleus’s Zekrom, Lilia has Lunala bc of the fae of the night thing, it suits him, and I once saw someone give him one. Zacian for Silver bc 1) again, he’s probably based on the sword and 2) he matches with Sebek’s Zamazenta. Also, I once saw someone say that they hc Sebek to be partially based off of the shield, and I Love That?? So yeah. (This is also why I didn’t give Cresselia to Silver instead of Malleus)

Anyway, yeah.

#twisted wonderland #twst #diasomnia #twst x pokemon

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greenticklerdreams · 28 days

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15 questions for 15 friends:

Hi, @lady-featherquill and @missamyrisa2! I’m honored that two such illustrious writers would think of me.

Were you named after anyone?: Nope! My mom may have gotten the name from a soap opera she was watching, though… but that might just be one of my dad’s lame jokes, lol.

When was the last time you cried?: The ending of Godzilla Minus One. I’m serious.

Do you have kids?: Nada.

What sports do you play/have you played?: I played tennis when I was in junior high and early high school! Was big into it for a while … and then we moved and my new high school didn’t have a team. Had a thriving theatre program, though! I’m ultimately very thankful for that.

Do you use sarcasm?: Me?? Psshhh. Nahhh. 😉

What is the first thing you notice about people?: Tough question. IRL… probably the way they carry themselves? The way they move through space. I also notice how they say things… phrases, reactions. Does that make sense? … Maybe this is too deep. I notice clothing style, too! Not in a critical way, just assessing. As for online, I WILL notice your texting style. Perfect grammar, all lowercase no punctuation, how often you use emojis and how. Just warning y’all.

What's your eye color?: Brown, tending more toward honey/amber than black. (My brother has super dark brown eyes like the latter and I’m only a little envious.)

Scary movies or happy endings?: Happy endings, definitely. I can’t handle scary movies at all, let alone downer endings. … I never did watch that Cyberpunk anime. I should get to that…

Any talents?: Writing. Acting. I’m a fast reader. Projecting my voice. Memorizing lines. ... a lot of these are related to acting, haha.

Where were you born?: Louisiana! And then got moved away before I was even a year old, so I don’t exactly remember it.

What are your hobbies?: Reading, writing, video games, listening to music, TTRPGs (GMing and playing). Typical nerd! I also like walks, casual hikes, and trying new coffeehouses.

Do you have any pets?: Sadly, no… I miss having dogs. And I love cats, but I’m allergic to them… it sucks.

How tall are you?: 5’7”, and a lot more confident about it than I used to be! (I know it’s kind of the stereotypical “bitter guy” height, lol. It’s fine, I probably shouldn’t go into politics anyway. 😆)

Favorite subject in school?: English, hands down.

Dream job?: I wish I knew. It would be fun to be creative for a living – a writer, or one of those streaming D&D Dungeon Masters – but it might also drain me of the creativity I need for my hobbies. I’d like to do something that actually helps people, charity work or something. I know I sound really driftless for a 30-something… I just care more about my life outside of my job, y'know? And I’d like to get out of finance one day, man.

Join in and pass it on if you can. Don't feel obligated!: 15?? That’s a lot. Hi, mutuals! If I haven’t said hi before now, I’d like to get to know you better. 😊

@ticklingmesoftly @magnificentbitchface @theepopcornwhore @something-tickly-this-way-comes @darkharp-tickling @silly-panic @thebest-medicine @applesyaboi @a-ticklish-banshee @brushtickler @datstrangetickler @ticklish-wallflower @hypersensitiv3 @yopatbo @sensitivemarie @still-not-rly-sure

#ask game #answered

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