#really freshens up the perspective
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— NO PHOTOS ! pt. 2
༺ feat. reo, barou, rin, sae, shidou
༺ outline. where the boys keep their slutty polas of you <3
༺ w. pro!players, 18+ content, minors dni, photos/polas, fem!reader, read at your own discretion as I don’t do individual tagging for element of surprise <3
༺ pt. 1 (isagi, bachira, chigiri, kunigami, nagi)
— REO ! car dash
When Reo got his hands on his first hypercar, his main priority was keeping the thing clean. No trash, no eating inside of the vehicle, you weren’t even allowed to do your makeup when you’re playing your role of passenger princess. He just wanted to keep the interior spotless, despite the fact that he could buy as many overpriced vehicles as he fucking desired
So, when you hopped into the car one day and noticed the pola of you that he had resting against the dash of his brand new Bugatti, you were stunned. He hadn’t even put a goddamn air freshener on the rearview yet
Whenever you got around to questioning him, all he did was shrug, a smug grin on his face as he drove you to your nail appointment. After all, he got bored when he was sitting in traffic. The picture of you, perched on his California king with the prettiest bra and panty set hugging your body juuust right was worth bending a few rules over
— BAROU ! wallet
The polaroid itself was your idea in the first place. He didn’t really understand what the hell the hype was about, but he’d bend over backwards to see that pretty smile you’d give him when you got your way. Whenever he saw the photo, however, his perspective was changed immediately
You’d been hiked up onto a bathroom sink, always getting way too horny for your own good at events where attendance mattered. He’d sneak you away when you’d start touching on him and whispering dirty shit in his ear, never able to say no to his queen
Thus the birth of the pola nestled in his wallet, right beside his bank card. The view of his thick dick stretching your tightness out was too good to pass up, milky ring of cream wrapped around his base and spilling out of your hole. He just had to have it with him at all times
— RIN ! under his pillow
Pushing the pussy whipped loser boy agenda for Rin because you’re most definitely his first love, the first girl he’s ever touched, fingered, fucked. Having popped his cherry, he can’t help but be completely enamored by you. The mere thought of you gets him hard and he hates that factor to his core
Which plays into why exactly he has a nasty polaroid of you tucked under his navy-clad pillow, right where he rests his head to sleep for the night. It’s safe there, it’s within easy reach for him to fuck his fist to when you’re too far away, which is too often for his own liking thanks to away games
The photo itself is his treasure, a simple one where you’re on your bruised knees, showing him what exactly a facial is. Although he loves you most barefaced, he can’t even lie and deny that your face dripping wet and sticky with his seed isn’t the hottest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on
— SAE ! checkbook
Weird place, sure, but there is nothing normal about Sae as a whole. In his eyes, there are three prizes in the world: wins, money, and you. The polaroid fits perfectly right where he has it
There’s nothing more rewarding to him than whipping out his checkbook to buy something big, just to be greeted with your cunt on full display, the photo clipped front and center onto the leather book cover
It’s a real looker of a photo too, his thumb spreading your glossy folds to show off the stream of his cum dripping out of your hole, coating your asshole in thick nut. All he can ever think about is how you whimpered when he licked it up after snapping the shot
— SHIDOU ! pola wall
The consequences of dating a shameless, unhinged individual consists of your nudes being shown off any and every possible chance presented to him. He’s sick, sometimes unreasonable, but you’re too goddamn pretty for him to just hide away
Hence why he’s got a nice slab of white wall in his bedroom, fully dedicated to you. He calls it romantic, of course. All sorts of polas are taped up as decoration, different positions and scenarios
Maybe it’s awkward for guests that just so happen to step into his bedroom for whatever reason, but you like being shown off, don’t you? He figured a slut like you would wanna be put on display, considering you’re just like him
#bllk smut#blue lock smut#reo smut#reo x reader#barou smut#barou x reader#rin smut#rin x reader#sae smut#sae x reader#itoshi smut#itoshi x reader#shidou smut#shidou x reader
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Hierarchy of Needs.
Daryl Dixon x F Reader.
Notes: originally, i was gonna keep this one between me and my google docs, but it's kinda cute ngl so everyone gets to see it
Tags: Not SFW, set at the start of Alexandria era, takes place from Daryl's POV.
Word count: 10.5k.
Daryl is a hands-on type of man.
He was never one to dawdle, sitting in one place for too long made him squirm. He swore it could be an allergy or some shit. Gets him all itchy and shifting his weight from foot to foot. The problem is, given the general uncertainty surrounding their current living arrangements, Daryl’s limited on what he can and can’t do. For the first time since the dead started walking, he’s caught up in the invisible net of “social expectations”.
Normally, he wouldn’t give a damn, but this isn’t just about him. This is about Judith getting the nutrients she needs. Carl not having to figure out how many sips of his rapidly diminishing water canteen to take to avoid dehydration. The group that’s come to be his family, in every sense of the word, having a roof over their heads and some peace of mind at night. There’s too much on the line for him to screw this up.
So he’s just got to grin and bear it (without the grinning).
Another particular individual comes to mind — all bright smiles and what seems to him to be the physical embodiment of all that’s good in this decaying world — but he swats the thought away like a pesky gnat. In his heart of hearts, he knows he’s dealing with the uppity bullshit for everyone’s sake, but… maybe there is one person he’s putting in the extra effort for. The person that kept him from glaring at some old folk who were looking at him earlier this morning like he was some escaped convict, the person who he’d kill for if it ever came down to it. Someone he already has killed for.
“Got room for one more?”
Daryl almost jumps out of his skin at the abrupt awakening from his thoughts, though from anyone else’s perspective, it probably just looks like he’s scowling harder. It’s wholly unlike him to not notice someone’s approach, human or otherwise. He’s about to give a grunt of indifference before it clicks in his brain just who is standing before him.
It’s you, the person he’d swear he wasn’t thinking such mushy thoughts about even if someone tried to waterboard the information out of him. He has to blink a few times for your newly freshened-up appearance to sink in. Your skin is clean, not a spec of dirt or grime in sight, the same going for your hair. He can’t remember the last time he’d seen you wear it down. Since the colder months in the prison, maybe? It’s a good look on you. To be fair, he’d think just about anything would look good on you.
One of his shirts, for instance. He can envision it picture it now, clear as day—
He has to stop himself from chasing after that line of thought, recalling with mild embarrassment how he still has yet to answer you.
“Can’t stop ya.”
You roll your eyes at that, giving him a look that screams ‘oh really?’, but take a seat nonetheless. Daryl’s set himself up on the porch of the house the group’s been granted. Given the position of the sun in the sky, he figures it’s about noon now. The shift in time brought a volume change. This morning, he could hear the chatter coming from within like he was in the room, everyone having finally received a proper night’s sleep for the first time in who knows how long. It quieted down when the group dispersed to their newly assigned jobs, or in the case of others, to sightsee.
Daryl takes a long drag of his cigarette while you situate yourself next to him on the porch’s steps. He eyes your outfit from his peripherals, an odd wave of something inexplicable rushing over him at the sight. It’s a nice white blouse with some jeans maybe a size or two too large for you. He can’t help but give his garments a once over. They still show evidence of the rough past few months spent living on the road. Now that he thinks about it, everything about him probably sends that message. He’d yet to take a shower or do so much as clean his face.
Is that why the Alexandrians had been giving him the side eye? Everyone else had practically been tripping over each other at the opportunity to shower, whereas he couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d disregarded Carol’s comments about it and would likely do the same if anyone had the balls to bring it up to his face, but for some reason, having you in his general vicinity is making him feel uncharacteristically self-conscious. You’re not looking at him with disgust, or looking at him with anything really, just your trademark smile that made him feel like melting into a pile of happy goo.
“You didn’t feel up to going out and exploring?” You inquire, hugging a knee to your chest. He shakes his head. At this, you scoot closer, excitement radiating from your being. “Want to come check it out with me, then? It feels… weird going places by myself. We’d always pair up in twos at least. I feel like I’m betraying our unspoken buddy system.”
He snorts at that. “Nah, ‘ve seen all I need to already.”
He knows he needs to change the subject before you decide this is a venture worth pursuing. If you gave him those damn doe eyes and asked sweetly enough, he’d do just about anything you asked. Hell, you didn’t even need to do all that for him to almost always cave. This weakness of his went mostly unnoticed to himself (or maybe he didn’t want to acknowledge it), until Merle put two and two together. It didn’t take him long either. He’d asked none too quietly how his little brother ended up pussy-whipped in his absence. Daryl had almost converted when he realized some higher power stopped you from overhearing the comment.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the last smarmy comment about you Merle was destined to make. If anything, that was one of the more forgivable remarks, since the brunt of it was directed at him.
No, the worst had come when Merle had been tasked with taking Michonne to The Governor. It was a regrettable final exchange between brothers all around. Daryl can’t recall exactly how the conversation had shifted to you, or the exact words that led up to that final gut punch, but he can still hear his brother’s mocking voice speak the sentence that’s haunted him ever since.
“You've been so busy drooling over her to realize, so let me spell it out for ya nice and slow. She ain't ever gonna want you the same way you want her. We're freaks to people like that. Nothing but redneck trash. And don’t you ever forget it.”
Daryl inhales deeply, the scent of cheap tobacco mixing with the shampoo you must’ve used. It’s light and sweet. Nothing could fit you better.
“Thought you’d be at the infirmary by now,” Daryl isn’t sure who he’s trying to distract anymore — you, or him. “Got ran off already?”
Your closed-mouth smile falters for a millisecond. Anyone else might not have noticed the nearly imperceptible change, but Daryl’s got a hunter’s eye, not to mention how attuned he is to your every mannerism. He’s ready to shove his personal woes aside if it means making room for yours.
“Well, that’s a way to describe it,” he can tell by your tone that you’re trying to keep the conversation lighthearted. How very like you. “When Deanna interviewed me, I not-so-subtly hinted at everything I had learned from Hershel. Although, to be fair, I talked up everyone from our group. I even defended Eugene’s honor like the man had won a Pulitzer. I would’ve said anything if it meant not getting thrown back out there.”
He nods, listening to your every word as if the secrets to the universe were held within.
“Anyway… I guess my sales pitch went purposefully unnoticed. She did say that she’d let the resident doctor know, but that he was ‘particular’ about how he goes about his practice. I think that’s politician talk for ‘not gonna happen’. She seemed eager to move on from the subject. So, for the time being, we’re both unemployed.”
Daryl has to will himself not to get distracted and laugh at your joke. He knows you don’t like to be ‘a downer’ (your words, not his), which leads you to hide negative sentiments behind that pretty smile. He gets it, because he does the same thing, utilizing a gruff exterior instead of your near-blinding charm.
“‘S stupid. Don’t let it get to ya.”
“Oh, I won’t,” you grin at him genuinely enough. He temporarily reassesses, wondering if he read you wrong, when your shoulders slightly slump. “I just really want this to work. We need this to work. The fact we lasted out there for so long, with a baby, is almost enough to have me asking Gabriel if he can send my regards to the big man in the sky.”
“It’ll work,” he tells you, his tongue working faster than his brain. You give him a hesitant nod. You know just as well as he does that there’s no way to make guarantees like that. Still, when Daryl’s so used to seeing you in bloom, having you wilt beside him hurts. Worse than a knife being twisted in his gut.
“Yeah,” your voice drops to a whisper then. You glance around, as if checking for prying eyes and ears, then continue when satisfied there are none. “I hope everyone else thinks so too. Rick looks to me like he's been thinking 'Viva La Vida' ever since we first set foot inside.”
Daryl searches the recesses of his brain to grasp at what your vague term means, squinting while he does so. He thinks he may have heard it in a history class at some point, in between playing hooky. Sensing his confusion, you elaborate, but not without throwing in a shitty French accent that has no business sounding as cute as it does.
“Révolution.”
You’re more perceptive than you let on, aren’t you? He wonders if Carol has been taking notes, considering the friendly-totally-not-threatening-cookie-and-casserole-making façade she’s recently adopted. He supposes it’s a bit different. You don’t actively hide your strengths, but you don’t go around advertising them either.
It was one of the first things Daryl noticed about you. In truth, he hadn’t given you much thought when he initially met you back on the side of the highway in Atlanta. He mentally categorized you as some city girl who’d probably complain about how the mosquitos are constantly biting or whatever. While you did express your fair share of disdain over the bloodsucking bugs, it was more of an icebreaker than anything. A way to loosen people up. Lighten the spirits when things got too heavy.
You were the opposite of Daryl in that way, a bonafide people magnet. He hadn’t given this quality of yours enough credit until he saw you bring a smile to Carl’s face soon after his mom’s tragic death. Then there was the way you cared for the people he found out on the road back in the prison days. They were often understandably closed off, disbelieving of the security the chain link fences supposedly provided. You made it a point to help bring them into the fold. No one asked you to, you just did it, because that’s the type of person you are.
Daryl brought people in, you made them feel at home. He cherished that little connection he had with you. It made him feel warm and fuzzy, like he’d downed enough liquor to feel buzzed without getting drunk. Everything about you was similarly stupefying and addicting.
When the prison fell, he thought all possibilities of restoring that connection fell with it. A silly thing to mourn, but he mourned it nonetheless, another line on a seemingly infinite list. Maybe… maybe it doesn’t have to be a figment of the past. If this place, Alexandria, is where your group decides to kick up their feet, he could start recruiting again. Look forward to seeing how you run over to greet the fresh faces upon hearing of his return.
It’s a nice thought. He’ll have to see if reality is anywhere near as kind.
“Rick’s just wary, ‘s all. Hard not to be. Y’know how it was out there. What we saw.”
“… Yeah,” you shift in your seat. “Well, at least these folks didn’t break out the salt and pepper when we walked through the gates.”
“Jesus Christ, woman.”
He can’t stop a single chuckle from slipping out, though he still cringes at the Terminus callback.
“Heard they got a shrink somewhere ‘round here. Might wanna look into that.”
“Hey, I said I’m trying to make this work, not end up in a Hannibal Lecter getup.”
You and your damn movie references. At least he’s familiar with this one. Sometimes he swore you and Eugene were speaking in another language when you two got on the topic of entertainment. Not being able to share that interest with you made him feel a certain way — a real shitty way.
“You’re the last one of us they’d throw out,” Daryl muses. You tilt your head at that, furrowing your eyebrows like when he’d first recounted the chupacabra story. He decides not to expand on the subject; it has too many of his feelings intertwined. Not worth the risk. “Unless they catch wind of your shitty sense of humor. Can’t say what’d happen then.”
You place a hand to your chest in faux indignation. “Well, Dixon, you laugh at my ‘shitty sense of humor’ more often than you don’t, so what does that say about you?”
A lot of things he can’t bring himself to admit out loud, mostly.
You give him a playful punch in the shoulder when he doesn’t dignify you with a response. The touch is so innocent, a mere brush of your knuckles against his skin, yet it throws his mind into temporary disarray. The effect you have on him could be subject to study; it’s as if every nerve in his body is set on fire. He feels warm, from his face to the tip of his ears. Then that heat drifts steadily downward. It’s then that he becomes fully aware of how close you are. How he can see your collarbones, and if he tilts his head at just the right angle, the start of some cleavage.
It’s got to be wrong, how much he desires you. The ways he desires you. It makes him feel ickier than the months without a proper shower ever could. You’re so bright, so kind, so good, he shouldn’t be lusting after you like some boy whose voice hasn’t broken yet. You trust him, he knows you do. He’s overheard you go so far as to call him one of your closest friends. Considering the far better options you have out there, he should feel blessed you even give him that much. Wanting anything more than that isn’t just greedy, it’s downright risky.
Daryl would never forgive himself if he made you the slightest bit uncomfortable, he’s given people shit for less. Someone could look in your general direction for too long and he’d start glaring.
Right when he starts willing himself to pull his head out of the gutter, you go to tie your hair up, effectively shutting any possibility of him doing that down. Your chest arches forward at the movement and he’s treated to a lovely view of your neck. You must sense the heavy way he’s staring at you, for you turn your head towards him. He doesn’t make the situation any better by shifting his attention ahead fast enough to almost give him whiplash.
“Are you planning on coming to that welcoming party tonight?”
Daryl has to bite back a groan at this topic of conversation. Why is everyone so damn interested in his attendance to some yuppie soiree? He knows that if the request is coming from you, it’ll steadily break his resolve down.
His facial expressions must have betrayed his thoughts, for you laugh. “I didn’t think so. I can’t blame you. I’m actually planning on bailing at the first opportunity I get.”
He raises an eyebrow at this. “Really? Can’t believe ’m hearing that from Miss Social Butterfly.”
“I think I’m more of a social caterpillar for the time being. It’s just, uh, a lot. I’m pretty sure Rick wants to put me on display as some sort of standup citizen like back on the farm. That I could handle. This, I’m not so sure. I don’t know the first thing about croquet. I feel like I’m lowering the GDP just by being in the general vicinity.”
He has to stop himself from gawking. He can’t fathom why you of all people would feel this way. That elderly couple who was staring him down probably would’ve fawned over you, pinched your cheeks and welcomed you in for quinoa. He’s about to voice this when your comment about the farm catches his attention more.
“The hell’d he have you do on the farm?”
“Oh, that’s right, you may not have noticed. I’d mostly situate myself in the areas Hershel was bound to come across with a Bible in my hands. Y’know, nodding my head and stuff, looking really into it. Worked like a charm. Tensions were high, but I think he felt slightly less inclined to send us packing knowing there was a God-fearing individual among us.”
He snorts, shaking his head in disbelief. You really were something else. He swears he could talk to you for hours if you allowed him.
“Try the Bible-thumping again. Might just do the trick.”
“Somehow or another, I doubt that. You’ve noticed it, haven’t you? The staring. I swear I saw some blinds being drawn when we all came out earlier.”
Of course he’d noticed. He’s likely half the reason behind it. “That’s what you’re ‘ere for. To get ‘em to stop looking at us like a damn circus act.”
“You and Rick are overestimating me. Maggie and Glenn have got it covered, little Judith adds brownie points too,” you tilt your head back to look at the cloudless sky. “Anyway, I figured if you planned on ditching, I’d invite myself along. Buddy system, remember?”
He flicks the cigarette out of his hands and onto the ground, extinguishing it beneath the sole of his boot. “Like I said earlier — can’t stop ya.”
Daryl silently praises himself for keeping up the cool and indifferent front when he’s internally celebrating over the prospect of having more alone time with you. What he wouldn’t give for more of that. He hasn’t the slightest damn clue why you seem to favor his company, but if there’s anything the apocalypse has taught him, it’s to accept a miracle when he’s handed one.
You smile at him as if he’d just offered you the world on a silver platter. It does too much to his poor heart.
“Great! It’s a date then.”
He almost chokes on his spit from how casually you say that, his eyes wide blown and jaw slacking. Fortunately, you’re none the wiser, standing up and patting the dirt off your jeans. The realization you’re about to leave makes him feel pathetically empty. He’d spent just about every moment of the past few weeks by your side, yet it wasn’t enough, he doesn’t think anything can be enough. The more of you he gets, the more of you he wants. You’re worse than the drugs his brother used to sing the praises of.
“Heading out?” Daryl can’t stop himself from questioning, no matter how obvious it might make him look. The porch steps already felt a whole lot emptier without you sitting beside him.
“Yeah, I promised to save Michonne if she wasn’t back in ten. She’s getting swarmed by children curious about her sword.”
“Good luck on your search n’ rescue.”
You give him a silly salute then, finishing the pantomime off with a bout of giggles. Then you’re off. Daryl exhales shakily, cursing himself for the way his heart’s pounding like he’d just run a marathon. He knows he needs to squash this lovesickness before it’s too late — if it isn’t already too late. He didn’t agree with Merle on a lot of things, especially when it came to you, but that last remark rings true. It’d be laughable for him to delude himself into thinking you feel anything but platonic affection toward him.
Especially with the options you have here in Alexandria. It may have been slim pickings before, but now, you might as well have an entire buffet laid out. You’re bound to catch the eye of some of the folk around here. If you could get him to like you, he figures you could win over almost anyone. Why would you give him the time of day when there are those clean-shaven, college-educated men running around like they own the place? If the world hadn’t gone to shit, that’s probably who you would’ve gone for.
It’s only because the world went to shit that you even know his name.
Watching how some Alexandrians wave at you, a gesture you animatedly return, he reaches for another smoke.
His brother’s words echo in his head, falling somewhere between a taunt and a warning.
“She ain't ever gonna want you the same way you want her.”
He would do well to remember that, wouldn’t he?
-
If someone told Daryl he’d died and gone to heaven, he’d believe them.
You’re leaning against one of the porch’s pillars, humming a tune to yourself, not having noticed his presence yet. He decides to keep it that way if it means he gets to admire you a while longer. You’re wearing a dark blue dress (he can imagine you correcting him and calling it ‘indigo’ or some shit), looking like an angel incarnate beneath the moonlight. It’s such a simple garment, stopping right above your knees, but to him, you might as well be wearing a ball gown. You’ve got those white tennis shoes that he saw you furiously scrubbing grass stains off of earlier today, the outline of a knife tucked away in them. His chest swells with pride at the knowledge you’re always ready to take care of yourself, thanks in part to his teaching.
Eventually, he manages to break himself free from his you-induced reverie, calling out your name to catch your attention.
You spin on your heel, placing your hands on your hips at the sight of him. “There you are. I thought my ditching buddy ditched me.”
He has to stop himself from saying he’d cross a river of broken glass barefoot if you were standing on the other side, instead settling on, “Aaron and Eric invited me over, figured you’d still be at the party. Did I keep ya waiting long?”
“No, you didn’t, I’m just being dramatic,” you revert back to your usual posture and grin. “It’s good. That they invited you over and you accepted it, I mean. Aaron’s a cool guy. Eric is too, from what I can tell. You guys have some manly bonding time?”
He rolls his eyes at the teasing lilt in your voice. “Mhm, sat around chuggin’ beer and talking ‘bout sports for hours. You?”
“Nothing of much note went down, just a lot of handshaking. I did get stuck talking to one of Deanna’s son for a while, though. I had to practically jump through hoops of fire to escape.”
Daryl swallows down the unpleasant taste that revelation leaves in his mouth. “You don’t like ‘im?”
“He’s… fine, I guess? Harmless enough. Just a really dry conversationalist, which to me, is a cardinal sin,” you stretch your arm above your head and Daryl has to stop himself from staring at how your skirt lifts up, revealing more of your shapely legs. Shit, he really does drool over you. “Oh, you’ll get a kick out of this. He invited me to a game of croquet. I was joking about that earlier, turns out I was right on the money.”
“You’re shitting me,” he deadpans.
“As much as I wish I was, no. God. I knew they’d be a bit sheltered here, but this… I don’t know. It worries me. I wish I could tell myself they can keep living this way, because that’s what they’re doing. Living. They really don’t know how bad it is. And if the bad ever makes its way here…”
You trail off, not needing to fill in the gaps for Daryl to piece it together. He gets what you mean. The entire group does. Carol thinks they’re children and Rick’s ready to take over at the drop of a hat. No one aside from you has expressed concern about their wellbeing out loud, although it’d been in the back of his mind when he saw there were children and old folk here. It’s this compassion of yours that brings him in like a moth to light. After everything you’d been through, you had every right to become a bitter husk of the woman you once were, but you haven’t.
And he thanks the God he isn’t sure he believes in for it.
After a moment’s deliberation, he sets his hand on your shoulder and squeezes. “It ain’t too late for ‘em. You learned. So can they.”
“Well, it did help that I had an excellent teacher.”
He grumbles a ‘shut up’ despite wanting you to do anything but.
Silence sets in for a few beats then. It takes him longer to notice this than it usually would, his head caught up in the near-euphoric experience of receiving a compliment from you. He realizes that he has yet to take his hand off your shoulder and has undoubtedly let it linger too long. He clears his throat, detaching himself from your person with some reluctance, suddenly taking an acute interest in the floorboards you’re both standing on.
Why is it still silent, save for the buzz of cicadas and the chirps of grasshoppers? Shit, did he cross some invisible line in the sand?
“Daryl?”
He grunts at that, not trusting his voice when his thoughts are at war with one another.
“You really are a good man.”
His head shoots back up and he’s searching your countenance for any signs of deception. You’re always teasing one another, this could be another instance of that. However, when your eyes meet his, he sees nothing but unabashed admiration shining in them. He doesn’t think he deserves to be looked at that way, much less by you of all people. You were looking at him like he was the second coming of Christ or something. It makes his stomach do backflips and his poor heart might go into cardiac arrest.
He tries to dismiss your claim with a lighthearted ‘nah’, not because he can’t accept the compliment, but because he doesn’t think it’s true. If you knew the way he thought about you, you’d take your words right back. Look at him the way people have his entire life. Disgust, maybe some pity. Doing what anyone would’ve done doesn’t make him a saint, no matter how hard you and Carol try to argue otherwise.
“You might not believe it, but I hope me thinking so suffices in the meantime,” you say, doing that creepy mind-reading thing you tend to be good at. “I’m truly grateful I met you. You make this life worth living.”
Should you keep going on like this, you might make him well up with tears. He’s glad there aren’t any reflective surfaces nearby because he can’t fathom the expression must be making. What is this? What are you doing to him? Those soft, kissable lips of yours must’ve casted a spell. You’re reaching forward now, pressing your palm against his cheek, and he considers pinching himself to see if this is all a dream.
If it is, he might not want to wake up.
Out of some primal, base instinct, he leans down, wanting nothing more than anything to get a taste of you. It’s when his lips are a few inches from yours that his brother’s words come hurling his way, knocking him off balance and making him jerk backwards. He sees something flit over your face — hates himself for it, too — the sight further reinforcing the prophecy spoken over him.
You deserve more. You deserve some man who knows how to speak what’s on his mind, who doesn’t shy away the second a conversation gets the slightest bit personal. Daryl doesn’t know how to do that, he might never figure it out either. If he does try, you’d have to bear the brunt of his inexperience, and your patience is bound to run out. He can barely put up with it himself sometimes, he can’t fathom putting you through it too.
“Are you okay?”
You’re staring up at him, your eyebrows knitting together, a frown that he so desperately longs to kiss away on your lips. He should be the one asking you that. From your perspective, you must figure he’s rejecting you. And still, you don’t stomp off in a huff or put him down. The tenderness emanating from those three words melts his heart like snow come spring. He opens his mouth, then closes it, licking his lower lip while trying to decide the best approach. Catching those damn hogs back at the prison was easier than getting a few words dislodged from his throat.
“You… you’re sure?” Daryl winces at how unlike himself he sounds when whispering this. “You feel that way ‘bout me?”
The pad of your thumb runs over his cheekbone. “Mhm. Guilty as charged.”
No matter how nonchalant you’re trying to act, he can feel the way your hand shakes against him. See the lines of worry you try to cover with a smile. Hear your every shallow breath. This must be fucking terrifying for you, baring yourself before him like you did, granting him a glimpse of your heart. His mask is one of indifference and yours is one of charm. You’re trying to keep things light like all those times on the road. When he saw you tossing and turning in your sleep, fighting back tears when you thought no one was looking.
He knew. He’s always known. He just never knew what to do about it, how to provide the same comfort you gave others.
“I wanna look out for you,” Daryl’s larger hand envelops the one you’ve placed on his face, causing your eyebrows to raise ever so slightly. “Wanna… wanna keep you safe and smiling. Want you to feel like you can do more than that ‘round me too. You can cry, get angry. ‘S alright. I know. I know.”
Tears well up on your lower lash line, and maybe he should feel a bit guilty for thinking so, but damn, you look beautiful. “See? This is what I meant when I said you’re a good man.”
“Cut it with your shitty jokes, woman,” he knows his bark is worse than his bite when you laugh at him, tilting your head back and revealing more of that tempting neck of yours. He swears to burn this image into the recesses of his mind for as long as he lives. You’re being you, he’s being him, and there’s nothing better.
All his bravado slips through his fingers like sand when you stand up on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. You breathe a taunting command against the shell of his ear and he shivers.
“Make me.”
That successfully ignites the competitive streak you know he has.
For how coquettish you were acting, you return his kiss in a gentle manner, and he reciprocates the pace you set. His hands find their way to your waist without daring to go lower, no matter how loudly his instincts urge otherwise. He’d sooner breathe his last breath than make you feel uncomfortable. If this sweet kiss is all you want, he’d count himself a blessed man from this day forward. It’s you who parts first, leaning back just enough to give your lungs some much-needed air. You stare up at him through your eyelashes, giving him that look that would make him agree to anything you ask.
“Do you want… to take this inside?”
Your voice dies off toward the end and he swears his brain temporarily shut off at the implication. Barely a second earlier he was thinking how he’d die a happy man just for getting a simple kiss from you, he’d written off the possibility of anything more than that. He nods his head, his hand going to the small of your back to lead you inside, when you turn and start making for the front lawn.
Reading the confusion on his face, you explain, “We were given two houses, remember? It might be a better idea to use the empty one for this.”
Daryl really had forgotten the rest of the world exists when he was in that bubble with you. The streets may be empty, but who knows how long that welcoming party will last. He’s grateful one of you has a head clear enough to consider these things. You’re his smart girl for a reason.
“Ya plan this?” He can’t stop himself from asking when he half-jogs after you. The thoughts that run through his head when you bend over to pick up a key hidden beneath a welcome mat will stay between him and God. You slot it into place, turn, then open the door, beckoning him to follow with a finger. He feels his pants growing tighter by the second.
“I’d be a liar if I said yes, though I wish I could take credit for everything,” you lock the door behind him. “No… it just felt like it was time. I’d been waiting for my moment for ages. Guess I got a little impatient.”
Your back is up against the door the second that last word is out of your mouth. He takes your lips for his own again, something like a gasp leaving him when you lift a leg to curl around his waist. He steadies you with his hands to ensure you don’t fall over, the air in the room feeling thicker than those humid Georgian summers you spent together. When he senses you’re stable enough, he lifts one hand to cup your cheek like you did to him, pulling you as close as he physically can. Your arms are around his neck once more, playing with the ends of his hair that he’s grateful he washed hours prior. He hadn’t anticipated this, yet knowing he had plans to spend time with you gave him the motivation to clean up.
Rick teased him for it earlier. The former sheriff had walked in on him shaping up his beard, a knowing smile on his lips.
“Saw [First], didn’t you?”
“Shut up, man.”
Officer Friendly had called it. Carol gave him a nod that made him figure she knew it too. So much for being covert about his feelings for you. Deep down, he knew it must be obvious, the extensive special treatment he gave you. His brother wasn’t too far off with his pussy-whipped comment, crass or not. Daryl would offer you his last bite of rations, final sip of water, hell, he asked if you wanted him to carry you on the grueling walk to DC when everyone was at their wit’s end. You had given him a weak chuckle and said he wasn’t in any shape to do that.
Regardless of how true that was, had you said yes, he still would’ve found a way to make it happen.
You were that precious to him.
Daryl starts tugging the hem of your dress, revealing the tantalizing sight of your bare thighs beneath. Before he can pull it up any further, your hand is on his, and he stops in fear he’d done something wrong.
Those self-doubts are washed away by the sheer neediness in your next word. “Bedroom?”
You don’t need to ask him twice.
The noise you let out when he lifts you up has got to be one of the cutest damn things he’s ever heard. Your response is immediate, you encircle your limbs around him, clinging on like he’d ever dare to drop you. The house doesn’t have any lights on, but Daryl’s eyes are good in the dark. He carries you up the steps while you bury yourself in the crook of his neck. He finds an empty master bedroom, shuts and locks the door behind him, then brings you over to the queen-sized bed.
You start to take your sneakers off when he touches your wrist and shakes his head. Before you can question his intentions, he kneels in front of you, getting down on his hands and knees. This here is a gift you’re giving him. He’d be damned if he didn’t act accordingly. He takes your shoes off with a surprising amount of patience, pressing a chaste kiss to your shin when he’s done.
“You sure you’re alright with this?” His voice comes out deeper than he’s ever heard it. “That you want it?”
“I’m absolutely positive. I’ll even beg, if you ask nicely enough. I’m nice like that.”
He squeezes your thighs. “There you go, running that mouth o’ yours again.”
“You could always make it so I can’t.”
Daryl raises an eyebrow at the insinuation, his cock twitching inside his briefs at the mental image it conjures up. You, sitting pretty on your hands and knees, mouth open and waiting for him. Knowing you, you’d probably rile him up first. Kiss his tip and apply the bare minimum amount of pressure. Would you take him in slow? Lick him up and down the side while staring up at him with those gorgeous eyes?
Tempting as it is to find out, he’s got other plans in mind. He wants to see your face twist in pleasure and hear his name fall from your lips. It’d do his pride some good to know one as sought over as you chose him.
You start playing with the straps of your dress, pulling him from his fantasies. “Do you want to take this off, or should I?”
He bites his lower lip hard enough that it’s a miracle it doesn’t start bleeding. He had intended to unwrap the present before him, but when you put it like that… it makes him curious about the alternative. He’d love to see what little show you’d put on for him, he’s got front-row seats, after all.
“Alright. Let’s see it.”
Daryl gets up from his kneeling position and takes a seat beside you on the bed. You get the hint, standing with legs that wobble ever so slightly. You don’t look surprised when he chooses to poke fun at your current state.
“Woah there, you good? Legs still work?”
You stick your tongue out at him. “Better than ever, thank you very much.”
He leans back, making himself comfortable for whatever comes next. “Mhm. Whatever you say, princess.”
At hearing the sarcastic nickname, you go stiff as a board. He catches the way your pupils dilate. You press your face into your hands to muffle a groan, hiding a very noticeably flustered expression from his prying eyes.
“I haven’t heard you call me that for ages. I think it may have awoken something in me,” you confess, pulling your hands away at his prompting. “I may or may not have developed the biggest crush on you when you called me that back at the prison. It got me riled up every time. Even if I was laying on my ass ‘cause you flipped me over for the umpteenth time that day.”
Daryl snorts at the memory. “Ya always did seem to be out for blood after I said it.”
He keeps the fact that he found your frustration cute. It was a hidden ace up his sleeve that he utilized when it looked like you were about to give up, his training regiment admittedly brutal. He couldn’t risk going easy on you with the world being the way it is. You’d be down on the grass, soaked in sweat, groaning for him to call it a day because ‘you think every bone in your body is broken’. Apparently, all it took was a little taunting for you to hop right back on your feet again.
Your competitive streak might be as bad as his.
“Did you like me then, Daryl?” You question, dropping the left shoulder strap just enough to give him a treat. “You must’ve, if you never shooed me away.”
Damn freakishly perceptive woman. “Why ya asking if you already know the answer?”
“Because your voice is the best sound I’ve ever heard. Can’t blame a girl for wanting to hear more of it.”
He grunts, unable to meet your eyes after an embarrassing proclamation like that, his face flushing. How is it you say half the stuff you do? You and your stupid silver tongue would be the death of him. There are worse ways to go, he figures. He struggles to keep his eyes focused on the wall when you lean forward, granting him an unrivaled sight of your cleavage. His embarrassment still slightly outweighs his burning desire to ogle you. Sensing this, you splay your fingers against his clothed chest. Slowly, ever so slowly, your hand ghosts upward. Over his jugular then settling on his jaw. You move his face until he’s looking you dead in the eye again.
“Hey handsome,” your voice pours over him, sweet and thick like honey, “Eyes over here. I get jealous rather easily.”
God, he hopes you don’t notice the goosebumps dotting his skin. Maybe you were a cross between an angel and a witch, what with your ability to enthrall him. His boxers have never felt more uncomfortable in his life. He balls his hands into fists by his side, utilizing every ounce of his self-control to stop himself from picking you up, throwing you on the bed, and utterly ravishing you.
“That so?”
“Mhm,” you confirm, the next strap falling victim to your ministrations. The front of your dress starts to slip down. His Adam's apple bobs from how thickly he swallows. The swell of your chest comes into view, pushed up by your nude-colored bra. His knuckles go white from how tight he’s grabbing the comforter to keep himself in check. You’re treating him to a show, it’d be rude to interrupt your performance now.
Without the support of the straps, the fabric continues falling, revealing more and more of your beautiful body for him. The wet patch of your panties isn’t lost on him — you’re relishing in every second like he is. While never looking away from him, your hands disappear behind your back, fiddling with your bra strap. He swears he’s never felt less like a man and more like a beast when he’s finally able to see your chest in its entirety.
You walk to him as if you have all the time in the world, your knees hitting the bed’s side not nearly fast enough for his liking. Finally, you take a seat on his lap, your crotch pressing perfectly against his. He lets out a low groan then, grateful for any pressure to relieve the near painful hard-on you’ve given him. His hands settle on your ass, grinding you against his clothed length, and you stifle a moan by biting down on your lower lip.
Daryl tuts, stopping before he’s even begun. “Nah, I don’t think so. Don’t go getting shy on me now, girl. Ain’t like ya.”
After a moment’s consideration, you nod your head, your eagerness apparently outweighing the shame he didn’t know you had. He grins at you, resuming his previous actions and earning those debauched noises he’s longed to hear. Your panties might be staining his jeans, but he can’t find it in himself to complain, he’d wear it like a damn badge of pride. You’re his woman now. He belongs to you as well — heart, mind, body, and soul — if you asked, he’d happily hand it over.
“It feel good? Hm?”
“Like everything I ever wanted and more,” you confess, the breathiness of your voice making his brain feel hazy. “You’re— god— I adore you, Daryl. You’re so good to me.”
His lips are on yours then, this kiss being the messiest yet. His tongue pokes at your lips, and when you part them, ready to receive whatever he’s willing to give, his tongue goes to explore the newfound territory. You taste sweet (is that chocolate?), like the best treat he’s ever been given. He swallows your little gasps and whimpers, giving your ass a firm squeeze to ground himself.
Daryl can’t believe this is really happening. That you want him as much as he wants you and have no qualms showing it. He might be drunk on lust, but there’s something else in there, a flavor he’s never experienced before you stumbled into his life. It’s sweeter than the chocolate, more addicting than the bottle.
He loves you. He has for the longest time.
He slows down his maneuvering of your body, letting you catch your breath and tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.
“You okay?” You ask in between huffs, peppering his hairline with featherlight kisses.
“Better than ever,” he repeats your words from earlier, albeit with a southern drawl. Faster than you can process it, he flips you over, kicking his shoes off to lord knows where. You get over your surprise fast enough and shuffle back to make room for him. He hovers above you, almost uncertain of where to start. You must be feeling particularly gracious, for you let him drink in the sight of you without making any smart comments. Your body is pure eye candy and he’d be damned if he didn’t get himself a nice taste.
His lips are feverish against your neck, alternating between bites and open-mouthed kisses. He’s finally able to lavish your chest in some well-deserved attention, his rough palms pressing against the flesh, feeling you up like his life depended on it. You, being the perfect creature you are, grind up against him, drawing out a growl from his throat.
“It alright if I mark you up?” He breathes against your skin in between kisses. “Show everyone you’re mine?”
“Yes, please do.”
Never one to deny you anything, especially when you ask so nicely, he gets to work leaving proof of this tryst on your neck. Little bruises start to form where he’s concentrated his attention, right above your racing pulse. Content with its appearance, his lips start adventuring down. He takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks, more than pleased at the gasp you let out in response. While his tongue swirls around you, his hand makes its way to the hem of your panties, the last clothing item keeping you from being entirely bare. He detaches himself from your chest with some reluctance, so he can witness this final barrier being torn away.
“If you look at me like that, I might just get embarrassed,” you laugh at the halfhearted glare he gives you for the comment. He supposes it wouldn’t be you if you weren’t actively trying to rile him up. You were coy like that, frequently looking for a way to get him going, not that he minded. It’s starting to add up in retrospect. You’d been flirting with him all this time, a fact that went right over his head.
“‘S fine by me. Would probably do you some good.”
Your eyes crinkle from how wide your smile is, unadulterated affection gleaming in your eyes. He can’t help himself — he bends down to peck your now pouting lips. Tempting as it is to kiss you silly for the remainder of the night, he’s a man on a mission. You lift your legs to help him get that final undergarment off. He sets it aside so you won’t have any difficulty finding it later. Then he’s drinking in the beauty that is your glistening folds, subconsciously licking his lips at such an appetizing display.
A soft call of his name breaks him from his stupor. “Hm?”
“Don’t, uh, feel like you have to do that,” you give him a sheepish glance. “It’s okay if you just want to, y’know.”
If he were a cruel man, he’d tease you until you squirmed for how adorable you’re acting, but he decides to have mercy. Gotta be gracious with the love of your life and all that. Still, he can’t help feeling slightly miffed you’d think he’s going to eat you out over some obligation. Your pleasure is his pleasure, your happiness is his happiness. He thought his desperation for you soaked into his every action since you confessed on that porch. Then he remembers he hasn’t got much room to talk, the voice of insecurity could be brought down to a whisper, yet never entirely silenced.
He gives your pelvis a kiss. “I wanna. Simple as that.”
Daryl’s reassurance comes out gruff, and while it might not be dripping with romance, it visibly puts you at ease. He doesn’t do anything until you nod. Then he’s in between your legs, feeling more at home by the second. He kisses you up your inner thigh, his beard tickling over the smooth expanse of skin. Finally, his tongue slips between his lips, pressing flat against your cunt. The way you shudder encourages him to repeat the action, testing the new waters with care.
His technique isn’t the most refined, but he’s eager, lapping you up with unmatched zeal. The wet sounds of him feasting himself on you fill the room, and he thinks it might be one of the best sounds to grace his ears. He alternates between licking you and pulling on your folds toward him slightly with his teeth. Whatever it is he’s doing, you seem to be enjoying it, if the way your legs go wide for him is any indicator. He pulls you flush against his mouth by your love handles, delighting in how you moan so prettily for him. He’d tried to imagine what you might sound like if he ever had a chance with you, what dulcet tones your voice would take on.
Those thoughts were enough to satisfy him on lonely nights, but they pale in comparison to the real thing. You’re a force of nature. So beguiling, so easy to love, that he’s once again reminded that it’s a miracle he’s the one you’ve chosen. Never has he felt so grateful. People had tried, yet you never went for it. Was he on your mind in those moments? Steering you away from anyone that isn’t him? He could only hope so.
Daryl pulls back, chuckling at the whine you let out at the loss. “Needy thing, ain’t ya?”
“Only for you.”
Once again, you prove to him that you always know what to say. You and your feminine wiles.
“Think you can handle my fingers?”
At this, you nod. He gathers your slick in his pointer and middle finger. He starts with his pointer finger, watching with something like awe as it eases inside you. Once he’s certain that it doesn't hurt, his middle finger is next, stretching out the walls that envelop him. A sinfully delightful sound is produced when he takes his fingers out and slides them back in. He eyes the slick coating his fingers, and after realizing he misses how you taste, dips his head back down to messily kiss your clit. Your hips are thrusting to meet his fingers halfway, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Close,” you breathe out in between moans, “I’m close.”
He hums against you, the low vibration adding to your mounting pleasure. He doesn’t care if his wrist hurts for the foreseeable future, he wants you to feel good, to completely unravel and show him he’s done a good job. The muscles in your thighs go tense and he hears you let out the most depraved whimper of his name. He doesn’t let up, hellbent on seeing you through the entirety of your high.
Your body goes limp as a ragdoll against the bed. Gently, you pull him back, combing your fingers through his tousled hair. He removes his fingers from you and plops them into his mouth, content to savor your taste a while longer. It’s second only to the taste of your lips. Once he’s finished cleaning them off, you guide his hand to your face, and he watches the act with muted confusion. He lets out a sound like a choke when your mouth wraps around his fingers, hollowing your cheeks while you do so.
“Christ, woman. You tryna kill me?”
A quiet pop sound resonates in the room when you detach yourself from him. “Of course not. I’m far too enamored with you.”
Daryl still can’t entirely fathom why exactly that is, but he keeps the thought to himself.
In his fervor, he neglected to shed his own clothes, a fault he works to remedy. There’s nothing he wants more than to feel your skin against his without any barriers. He stands up to make the process easier, starting with his vest, then the halfway decent shirt he picked for the night. Next is his buckle and jeans. He doesn’t have time to feel self-conscious, not when you’re laying there, waiting for him so well. The scars and other various imperfections marring his skin must be difficult to make out in the low light, anyway. He knows you wouldn’t judge him — he feels it in his bones — yet that’s a can of worms he’d prefer to leave for another day.
He lets out a sigh of relief when his cock is freed from its restraints. Copious amounts of pre-cum leak from the tip, a testimony to your influence on him. He gives himself a few strokes, yet stops when he releases how sensitive he is. He wants to make this last. He needs to make this last. He knows that every second he spends inside you is bound to feel like heaven on earth.
Daryl crawls over to you. You part your legs without him needing to ask, your eyes lidded and hair messily framing your face. He lines himself up at your entrance yet makes no movement beyond that. This isn’t an act that’s meant to be rushed through — no, he intends to savor every second as if it were his last. The intensity of his stare can only be matched by yours. It’s an intimate moment, this little reality you carved out together, apart from the struggle and anguish you’d both become so familiar with.
He knows it won’t magically go away. You know it too. But if you have one another, you can both start living again instead of surviving.
“Still sure you want this?”
“I’m sure,” you whisper in a voice meant for his ears and no one else’s. “Please.”
Daryl handles you with care he didn’t even know he was capable of. He begins to push into you, sucking in a breath while he does so, his eyes glued to your face for any signs of discomfort. Your warmth wraps around him and draws him in. When he’s halfway inside, your hand grabs his, fingers intertwining. He stops, rubbing circles into the top of your hand with his thumb, silently admiring every way your face contorts while adjusting to his length. You inhale and exhale shakily before nodding your head, giving his hand a squeeze. He groans when he’s sunk all the way inside you.
You both stay like that for a moment, breathing in each other’s air.
“Have I ever told you,” he almost sounds pained when he speaks, “That you’re fuckin’ gorgeous?”
You give him one of those melodious laughs that makes his heart do things. “This’d be the first time.”
“Won’t be the last.”
You crane your neck to give him a chaste kiss. He’s about to chase after your lips when you pull away, but the words you say next cause all his higher thought to temporarily cease. “You can move now. Fuck me, Daryl.”
He feels himself twitch inside you and curses under his breath. It’s slow at first, so he can gauge what sort of rhythm you might like. The roll of his hips is sensual, his admiration of your facial expressions bordering on worship. Your hands go to his back to find purchase, unintentionally pulling him even closer in the process, and he grunts. He sets a steady pace. You throw your head back into the pillow, letting all your pretty noises out for him unabashedly. Praises fall from your lips, reassuring him of how good he’s making you feel, and how you want everything he’s willing to give. The encouragement makes his chest swell with pride.
You chose him. Out of everyone you could’ve pursued, you gave your affection to him, and that knowledge alone almost feels better than the way your walls flutter around his length.
“I care about you,” he pants into your ear, a declaration that makes you whine. “Have for so long. Want— want to show you. How much you mean t’me.”
Daryl hears you try to muster up a response in between your gasps, but it’s no use, you’re too lost in the throes of pleasure. He notices the way your moans grow higher in pitch, the sound music to his ears. Utilizing what little brain power he has left, he figures you must be getting close. The fact you’re going to come undone around him spurs him on. His fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing rushed circles around it. You tighten around him and it takes all the strength he has not to collapse on you, lost in the dizzying feeling.
There’s no more precision to his movements, everything is messy and frenzied.
You let out a cry of his name, and then a high-pitched whimper of, “I’m—”
And just like that, you unravel for him, nails digging into his skin and hips thrusting forward to meet his. He wills himself to stave off his own release so that you can enjoy yours. The sight and sounds you let out might be the most erotic thing he’s ever seen, he etches every detail of it into his memory.
He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.
Daryl pulls out once he’s certain you’re done, fucking his fist like a man possessed. It doesn’t take much for him to come undone after witnessing what you just showed him. A gruff rendition of your name leaves his lips as he spills out onto his hand, his release coming out in spurts, coating his palm in white.
You both stay still for a few moments, taking the time to catch your breath. You’re the first to move, sluggishly at that, sitting up on your elbows and giving him a content smile. He’s about to cradle your face and put his forehead against yours when he recalls his release is still on his hand. He shifts to get up, noting the attached bathroom in this room. You stop him before he gets the chance, gingerly wrapping your fingers around his wrist, stilling his hand in the process. He gapes like a fish out of water as you lick the remnants off his skin, closing your eyes and humming as if it was the best thing you’d ever tasted.
When you finish helping yourself, you give each of his knuckles a kiss. “I think the bones in my legs are broken. For real this time.”
Daryl snorts at the callback to your prison days, fond nostalgia swirling in his head.
“Need me to carry ya?”
You outstretch your arms for him. “Yes, please.”
He knows you’re being dramatic but can’t bring himself to care. He lifts you up, taking care not to trip on any of the clothes strewn on the floor, then sets you down on the sink’s granite counter. You both help yourselves to some nearby washcloths to get cleaned off. He kisses your shoulder when you’re done. Once back inside the bedroom, he slides his boxers back on, and you, your undergarments. You throw your back onto the bed and stretch, letting out a cute little noise while you do so.
Daryl’s feeling exhausted himself, but he figures you both shouldn’t be missing for too long. It’d make the others worry.
“I’m claiming this as our bedroom,” you fluff out a pillow before laying it down. The way his heart skips a beat at your usage of the word ‘our’ almost embarrasses him. Almost. “I’m not going to let you keep sleeping out on the porch. It hurts my back just thinking about it.”
He makes his way back over to you, footsteps silent against the hardwood. The second he lays down, you’re cozying up against his side, resting your head on his chest. His arms wrap around your frame as if he’d done it a million times before. It’s divine, hearing your steady breathing, feeling the warmth of your body. Despite everything, you’re still here. So is he.
He’ll do anything to keep it that way.
You lift yourself up to get a good look at him, your hair tickling his face. “Hey.”
He grunts to prove he’s listening.
“I love you,” you give him a kiss on his forehead, then his nose, and finally, his lips. “Thank you for letting me.”
The words from his brother on that sweltering day breathe down his neck. For some reason, the specific verbiage can’t form in his mind, it’s more of a muffled voice coming from another room. The sentiment is still there. Piercing, meant to hurt his heart in ways a weapon never could. That deep of a wound won’t heal itself overnight, yet if you’re the one holding the thread and needle, he thinks it can finally start closing.
He only whispers his next words when you press your forehead against his.
“I love you too. More ‘n anything.”
There’s a mischievous glimmer in your eyes which makes him nervous. Uh oh. He knows that look.
“… Enough to be my croquet partner tomorrow at noon?”
“Hell no.”
Unfortunately for him, you know as well as he does that if you keep asking nice enough, he’s bound to give in eventually.
He always does.
#i know this is so random but i'm going absolutely feral over him right now. god bless#i locked myself in my room this weekend and thirsted over an older man#daryl dixon x reader#the walking dead x reader#reader insert#not sfw#my stuff
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Bumped into you
Max verstappen x reader
Request : yes
Warnings : English isn't my first language other than that none
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The sun came up, the birds are chirping and singing happily, people on the street having fun, laughing, shouting at each other and talking, others are smiling and other are grumpy or having a bad day, not being in the mood for anything.
Nobody knows what is going on in people's lives or minds but they choose to go out today.
Y/n was a semi morning person that depends on the day and the weather as most people are.
Having being waken up by the alarm clock that she forgot to deseable the night before. She curses herself for not turning it off, she tried to go back to sleep but to no avail, grunting she got out of bed and she decided to be productive she did the household chores like vacuuming the floors and mopping them, washing the piles of dirty dishes
Planning to make something extravagant she got freshen up and dressed into something comfortable but presentable she headed to the nearby supermarket which she knew that would have the things that she wanted to make the dish.
Strolling from aisle to aisle looking for what she needed, she was suddenly hit by something losing a bit her footing she stumbled back a few steps.
Looking up at her "attacker" there was a man with short blonde hair, icy blue eyes, tall, she liked tall men...her daydreams.
His face showed concern and in his cheeks were rosy pink from the embarrassment of this whole situation.
Oh my god I wasn't looking at where I was going! Didn't meen to bump into you! * he said taking a few steps ahead where y/n was* are you okay miss?
Oh yeah I am okay, just watch where you are going next time please...
I am so sorry again! I hope you are okay again...miss....?
Oh y/n nice to meet you..?
Oh yeah I am Max btw
I don't want to sound like a stalker... But have we met before? You look familiar... I can't point me finger on it tho * her eyebrows knitted together tilting her head a bit to the side.
Max panicked said *oh I don't think so...?
Oh can I get a picture though? I want to show my family their future son in law... * y/n said biting her bottom lip softly looking up to his blue eyes
Uhm sure! * max replied his cheeks red suddenly getting shy
Y/n pulled out her phone and put on the camera app getting closer to him and taking a few selfie photos.
After seeing the photos if they are good then it dawned on her, from his perspective you could hit the wheel of her mind working, flinching a bit and widen her eyes.
Oh shit! Now I remember!... * she paused looked around and leaning near his face and whisper shout * Are you Max Verstappen?
You noticed that he was taken a back for being recognised by her and she acted quickly
Sorry I won't say anything! But my sister is a big fan of f1, that's why you seem familiar! * she said hitting her forehead * Sorry I will leave you to it!
She went to take her cart to search for the rest of the things she wanted but she was stopped by him saying her name.
Y/n could I get your number by any chance? You are lovely... * max said scratching the back of his neck nervously.
Sure! Give me your phone I will put it on, how is that?
They exchanged number and went home after a bit, while going home y/n texted her sister
The best sister
You won't believe who I just met!
Lil b
Omg! Who?
The best sister
Max mother fucking Verstappen!
Lil b
Really?!? Did you take any pictures?!
The best sister
Yeah
*picture attachment *
Lil b
Omg! You are so lucky dude, I wish that was me fr!
After that y/n and Max were texting back and forth, going to low-key dates for 3 almost 4 months y/n became his gf and him wanting to take her to his home race in the Netherlands giving her a paddock pace his second card of his hotel room having fun in the paddock and meeting all of his friends, laughing and joking around at their hotel rooms playing games and everything.
___________
I hope you liked it and hope its what you requested!
-🦈 anon
#f1 x reader#max verstappen x reader#x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x female reader#drive to survive x reader#marriswriting#red bull racing#bloodyymaryyy
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Tenderness
This work is 18+ use caution when reading, prefer minors to not interact. You clicking on further is a read at your own risk.
Zhongli x fem!reader
You know my writing by now~ I like how this turned out specially towards the end~
Warnings and content below~
Includes - Breeding kink, fingering, oral, face-sitting/riding, aftercare, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, in front of a mirror sex, affectionate stuff, fluff and smut, masturbation on zhongli’s part, oral on reader receiving, a small bit of dacryphia with needed for emotion direction. consent discussed. All that wonderful stuff.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The morning after the first time you spent your night with Zhongli, you wake up with a pleasant feeling in your chest, and a dull ache in your thighs. The warmth behind you and breathing tells you Zhongli is still there, with his arms wrapped around you. He is as close as he gets to you, keeping you comfortable and well protected. If you could see his face, you would know he’s smiling in his sleep.
You feel that one ache in your stomach and know you need to get up and leave the warmth of the bed and arms. Before you do, you turn over in Zhongli’s arms to see his face. The sight to you is a dishelved former archon, hair loose from its band, arms black and gold. You touch his face, and it is enough for those amber eyes to open and regard you with love in them. You wonder if he had been awake for a while just basking in the morning with you silently.
“Morning, my beloved.” His voice is lower a whisper and raspy from just waking up. You are in awe of how gorgeous he is and your face pinks up at remembering how he was over you the night before. That he had found pleasure in someone like you.
“What are you thinking about, that has you all red in the face?” The lower of his eyes, he knows, and you shrink down to avoid his eyes. One hand slips up to get you to look at him.
“Just... how we were last night.” You admit to him and see the twitch in the corner of his lips up. He recalls the same memory but from his perspective in how you thrashed beneath him or buried your face in the pillows to scream into them as he took you from behind. The soreness in your shoulder from when he bit it in the middle of your passion together.
“I’ll make us something to eat, while you freshen yourself up.” You’re tugged closer to Zhongli, and you squirm in his grasp when he kisses you fully pressing you down into the bed that you feel your face heated up and when Zhongli pulls back from you, you see that gleam in his eyes that was there when you ended up in that bed together.
Zhongli gets up from the bed, placing the blanket back over you to let you hide under the covers from his gaze while he stumbles out unbothered by his own nudity. You are getting a good view of his back, thin lines decorate it from where you scratched his skin, and him with his hands up trying his hair back into its long ponytail. He sets about dressing himself in a loose robe, giving you a smirk at catching you staring at him. You shrink down more till you hear him leave the room.
It is when you are alone is when you sit up in bed and really feel it. You feel the sensation in your legs, the tenderness of your folds from when he was inside of you, the stretch was intense, and you had cried into his shoulder when he first penetrated you. You shyly uncover yourself and get out of the bed to slowly make your way to the washroom to clean yourself up. It’s there you notice the bite on your shoulder while washing your hands and other marks that litter your body. Subtle teeth marks on the insides of your thighs that make you blush, the finger indents on your waist from when he grabbed and rutted into you rougher, along with the tinge of red that still lingers from when he smacked your rear.
The next thing you notice is the bit of cum between your thighs, it makes you freeze at the sight of it. You worry for a second about the idea of what it could lead to with him, you also take pride that you made a former archon lose himself so much that he came from you.
“Does it bother you?” You jump onto the sink hearing Zhongli’s voice behind you, and he’s leaning against the doorframe watching you as you inspect your body, of all the things he had done, he is satisfied with the state he left you in, he laid his claim on and within you clearly. The light unsteady limp is clear, and he knew you would be sore.
“I just didn’t expect you to... inside.” You admit and he closes the distance to hug you from behind. Zhongli nuzzles into the side of your face, and you see him regard you in the mirror, eyes gently glowing under the faint light.
“I can prepare tea to prevent anything if the idea of children is still uncertain. I got carried away in the moment of it all.” You feel ice run down your back, and you actually look to him that he moves his head back to avoid hitting yours with his face.
“N-no! That isn’t what I mean, and I hope I didn’t give the wrong impression. I didn’t expect you inside, but I also... really like it.” He smiles at you confessing this and presses his face against your neck. The robe he is wearing is still loose, and you feel him tug it open then wrap you in it and his arms.
“I’m glad then, that the idea delights you, after all... I would not choose just anyone. We are planning that stage of our lives together.” His hands smooth down to your abdomen resting over leading his fingers down to touch along your skin leading to your folds. Zhongli’s fingers are delicate as he touches the skin starting at your folds gently parting them.
“You are getting a bit cold to be wandering around nude. Will you indulge me, and I will please you again?” He places nibbling kisses along your neck; you feel your shoulders tense up at the idea of being intimate again, but the way he entices you with his nibbling along your neck and how his fingers slip further along.
“Y-you want me again?” It came out as a gasp and your eyes fall onto your own in your reflection, you can see how his own eyes are closed. Zhongli tapers each kiss with gentle pecks, a glimpse of gold towards your own eyes tells you so much with how much they are lit with lust and love.
“I want you again, I want you more than you ever know. To feel you writhe underneath me, to pant and scream my name. To see how you take my seed, see if we are fortunate or... keep having to do this till we are. There were so many times during our beginnings where I desired you like this.” You feel heat against your ear as Zhongli gently takes the edge between his teeth to nip at it.
He turns you in his hold to properly kiss you, you part your lips into it as he guides you backwards till you feel the edge of the counter behind your back. You yelp from the cold against your skin, barely feeling the way Zhongli slips his hands to push your hips closer to his own. You can feel him getting aroused, face flushing more from that than the kiss or the amber eyes boring into your own eyes.
Zhongli tilts your head back to deepen the kiss, letting his emotion out into it and you feel swept up in a whirlwind of intensity. When you part from the kiss you don’t realize you were sitting on the edge of the counter and a very eager former archon kneeling in front of you. He presses kisses along your chest stopping to tease both nipples with squeezes and his mouth sucking on both. Till he is where he wants to be with your legs draped over his shoulders and relying on him for support.
“A-are you sure? I mean... I still have that leaking...” Gold eyes regard you reverently as Zhongli coaxes your legs apart to gain access to your core. Fingers are delicate as they tug open your folds a happy hum emits from him seeing how wet you are just from his kiss and toying with your breasts.
“A good spouse won’t care about that when they aim to please their loved one. Besides... most of it is going to be spilled out in a few.” You look at him perplexed by his words until you feel his fingers slip along your pussy teasing your clit and rubbing through to lubricate his fingers well with your juices. He has you squirming for him with the teasing he does on your clit and pushing closer to him.
“You’re still a little tender here, I’ll be gentle.” He notes the way you squirm when his fingers brush a side of your vulva that took the brunt of his thrusts. He gingerly places a kiss along them as his fingers slowly slip inside. He hears you hiss in response to his fingers but gently pushes them deeper his thumb takes up teasing your clit while his fingers are slowly thrusted in and out.
It is too much for you from the sensation of your folds sore, and you almost ask him to stop if it was not for one spot his fingers brush. It makes your body relax and you are overcome by a sensation rushing through your body like lightning. You snap your attention to Zhongli who eyes you closely seeing that wild expression wash over your face. He repeats the motion that made you do that, and your heels dig into his back to push him closer to you.
“I take you like this spot. Then I wonder how well you’ll take to this.” With his free hand he keeps your folds apart as he presses his tongue to the small nub where his thumb had been rubbing. You feel his fingers prod that one spot that makes you see white fire; your hands go into his hair to tug Zhongli closer forgetting all about the soreness you were feeling. Replaced with the pleasure you need more of.
Zhongli turns his hand so the pads of his fingers inside of you, facing them up to curl better into that spot. He begins to thrust his hand to you while his mouth tends to your clit, licking it and sucking on it till you push close that Zhongli supports you more than the counter you’re on. In a swift motion, the former archon tugs you with him and gets you to straddle his face, it feels awkward for you to be doing this.
You feel wet heat against your pussy again, and Zhongli guiding your hips into a rhythm with his fingers returning inside of you thrusting a lot more freely and his mouth busy with that nub of nerves. You keep the rhythm he wants and miss him slipping the hand at your hip down to stroke himself, to keep rhythm with the fingers inside you.
“Zhongli!” You manage out, your hips moving on their own; the heat coiling in your belly, and his fingers speeding up prodding that one spot again. Your voice rings out in the empty room amongst the soft grunts you hear from him as he grips himself tighter to mirror the sensation of you clamping down on him. You hear his moans and finally see that he’s pleasing himself while doing this with you. It makes your face flush in realization that you have driven him to masturbate to your moans and screams of pleasure. That he finds such pleasure in this to do such an act underneath you.
“Rex Lapis...” You test his name; he freezes in all of his ministrations hearing his former name. You wonder if it was something you should not have used with the way he gets you to move off his face so he can see you. Instead, you see fire in those amber eyes regarding you for using his name.
“My dear, dear love. Why that name?” He asks, his trance broken as he raises his hand from himself to press a thumb to your mouth. You obediently lick the edge of his thumb, and he hooks it to press on your tongue.
“I was wanting to use your name... and you looked so pleased, I thought you would like it.” He genuinely smiles at you and sits up to collect you in his arms getting you to sit in his lap. You feel him extremely hard and twitching just underneath your thigh and carefully grind against him.
“My love, I love you using my name, I want you to use Morax though, it’ll be easier when I’m inside. Ahh... keep doing that...” He situates you so you’re grinding your folds along his cock, and you bite your lip feeling how hard he is between them brushing against your opening coating him in your juices. He had pulled his fingers from you in favor of teasing your clit as you rub against him.
The feeling of him throbbing along with hearing him moan against your ear he is feeling it as much as you are. You take the initiative with raising your hips, looking him in his eyes as you slide your own hand down to guide him into yourself. The look in Zhongli’s eyes as you do this, he is a bit surprised but more warmth as you are giving him the consent he needs to continue. His hands on your waist guide you down comfortably, hearing you whimper a little to adjust again to him.
“My love, shhhh. I know... I know. You will adapt with time and let me know if it is too much.” He hugs you to himself when you are fully seated on him, his hands rubbing your back and shoulder as you feel tender from the stretch. Almost too much but you desire it, need him a lot deeper.
“It feels okay, just really want you inside.” You admit to him; Zhongli tilts your head up to his to place loving kisses on your lips. The feel of his fingers rubbing enough to make you rock against him, making him sink deeper on his cock. You yelp into the kiss for him to swallow your moan in a fuller kiss, sinking his tongue into your mouth. Your hands going to his shoulders from under his arms to scratch as your senses are overwhelmed.
Zhongli guides your hips against his as you keep his kiss moaning into it when he begins to thrust up into you. You grasp the skin at his back to dig your nails into it or tug at the tail that brushes your fingers. You are jolted up when he bucks up and breaks the kiss to bite onto his shoulder muffling your own cries into it as he begins to set a rhythm with you.
You begin to match his pace he is a lot more comfortable with you this round than the previous night. You feel different as he tugs you gently by your hair to look him in his eyes as he has you grind on him. He hears you let out a louder moan when he hits that one spot his fingers prodded earlier. You wrap your legs around his waist pulling yourself to each of his thrusts.
“Hold on my beloved... I’m going to cum at this rate. Not yet... not yet...” He slips a hand down to squeeze himself to keep from doing so. He stills you even gets you to lift off him while he looks at you with a pained expression wanting to respect your unease for him cumming inside you.
Instead of what you thought in him stopping, he gets you up and moves you to the mirror where he pins you against the surface. Your breath fans and fogs against the glass as Zhongli moves behind you; the robe he’s wearing slips down to hang on his elbows adding a regal look to him and pushes back into you. You yelp from the push in, and the angle has you at but keeps you, so you are pushed against your reflection. You are lost to pleasure while Zhongli has a sight all to himself of you bliss out moaning and trying to scratch the mirror as you push back to his thrusts into you. You feel him throb inside because of what he’s witnessing.
Zhongli slips his hands down your back till he finds the marks he had left in your skin from before. You can’t help but lose yourself to complete pleasure, your toes curling on the floor, hands slipping down the glass in front of you, and you lift your head to look at Zhongli through it,
The sight behind you is almost feral from the former archon. Watching you becoming undone, and wild all by his hands did something to him. Seeing you look at him through the reflection added another piece to it all, the needy pleading look in your eyes to go harder, to be as rough as he was the night before.
Zhongli places a hand at the back of your neck and gets you to look at yourself in the mirror as he presses his face into the crook of your neck mouthing kisses into it as he pins you against the surface. Your cheek pressing against your reflection’s and him raising your other leg in his free hand to keep himself unobstructed in thrusting in from tip almost out to pushing in full till you scream in pleasure.
“You are beautiful like this, taking me so well, even being as sore as you are. That look in your eye, you want as much as I do, to keep going till you are certain of the outcome. To know you will leave here carrying.” You suck on his fingers when he puts them into your mouth, you moan out around them when he thrusts hard, and you feel hot from his words against your ear.
“I feel it, are you going to cum? If you’re going to cum, let go already. I want to feel you dripping.” His words do something to you, and Zhongli takes the fingers in your mouth to rub vigorously on the nub to further you along to your orgasm pending. You catch sight of yourself with Zhongli’s eyes meeting yours in the mirror, he is busy darkening the mark on your shoulder in a moment of passion to make you his alone.
“Morax!” You manage out and the thrust into you was a lot harder, you even feel a twitch of him inside at hearing his name called. You do it again, moaning out his name till it is a chant off your lips and a growl in your ear tells you he is enjoying it. The combined pleasure of his fingers and thrusts finally sends you over the edge. Zhongli lifts his gaze to watch your face twist up in pure bliss, mouth open in an O, calling his name and tensed up on him. He groans out in your ear matching your zeal feeling you clench on him and buries himself deep till you can feel him almost reach your womb to fill it with his seed.
You feel your head tilted to meet him in a kiss as he slows till his hips are flush against you, your legs threaten to give out wobbling from the relief washing through you. Zhongli holds you to himself as he lowers you both down to sit on the floor with him again. He simply hugs you in his arms as he gently pulls out of you hearing you hiss from the tender soreness in your thighs again.
Zhongli wraps you with the robe and begins peppering you with love and kisses. You laugh into his affection as he hums happily into your neck and you soak up all the attention, he is giving you. You return the kisses on your lips, and laugh when he nuzzles into your face till, he nibbles on the edge of your ear with a playful growl.
You feel safe in his arms and loved more when he clasps your hands between his, he brings your hands to his lips to kiss over each fingertip and over the back of your hands. You open your hands to let him kiss your palms, and you lean in to kiss his fingers and hands the same. Showering him in the same affection that warms his heart that he looks away because of what swells in his heart.
Without much thought he tugs you down with him to lay on the floor, turning you to face him so you can explore each other's skin. Your hands smooth over his chest marveling at the color difference in his arms and torso. He takes his time in touching you softly treasuring you in this special moment where you are basking together, calming down from the high and gathering your strength to move.
“What do you hope for... if...” You break the silence with a question. Zhongli understands the direction, and his hands slide down to rest over your abdomen touching gently over the skin.
“I’d hope for one that is healthy and happy.” He tugs you into his arms and you feel lulled into comfort just pressed against him. You press your face into his chest while he rests his chin on top of your head. You wouldn’t believe he is the former archon if it weren’t for him telling you, or seeing his arms as he touched you in such tenderness that you trust everything, he tells you.
Zhongli kisses the top of your head as you take one of his hands to study the gold of them. He cups your face when you let him, and you both lay like this till the floor becomes uncomfortable. To shower together where he takes care of you, massaging any soreness in your body, and washing you thoroughly. You return this to him, and he melts into your hands going through his hair. You both relax together and dry off sitting in his lap as he brushes your hair, and he lets you work through his.
“How about a meal with me now? I’m certain you are hungry from all the energy we used.” He looks over his shoulder and you bite your own lip at the amber stare he gives you. You blush and look away this time at the effect he has on you. He knows too well but instead of luring you into another romp, he takes mercy on you.
“You’ll need the energy for later.” You snap your head up to look at him, understanding what he means. He just smiles warmly at you, his eyes betraying that gentleness with a primal and heated stare.
#Zhongli#Zhongli x female reader#zhongli smut#genshin zhongli#Genshin impact zhongli#Invi's writings
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Will you give us a little something else for the stepmom!reader fic? I'm really curious about how you'll go about it. Will it be anything like your stepdad!harry one? I hate/love stepdad!harry. I love reading it (super guilty pleasure) but in reality that man would be trash so I also hate him.
I'm really looking forward to the stepmom one though, as a 30 year old woman I feel like usually we see a lot of Harry being older and dominant but it would be fun to look at this in a different perspective with reader being a little older.
YES - i know what you mean about stepdad!harry. he's kind of trash but that's the whole point in that au. it's mostly about the smut. 😂
But for stepmom!reader it's not going to be like that at all. As a woman I cannot see her being toxic in the way I've written harry as stepdad.
This one will have some background about her marriage and the kind of arrangement she and harry's dad have.
While it's still a completely messed up situation, this one will be softer and there will be some pining a bit. I've got almost 20k words written for it already and I'm actually loving it. Harry meets yn when he's in college and an adult so there's nothing too odd about them being attracted to one another. She's about 7 years old than him. Harry will be a virgin but not for lack of confidence or charm. You'll see.
But I'll give you a little teaser below the cut (1.3k words). Enjoy!
She was in sweat shorts and a tank top and tennis shoes with no makeup. She had wanted to shower and get freshened up a little at least. Before Harry arrived. Though, she wasn’t entirely sure he actually would come on Friday as he said.
But then she laughed at herself worrying so much over how she looked to her stepson. A silly silly girl, she thought to herself. Who cares? Why should she care? She was doing all this for his birthday party anyway. And she was his stepmom.
Looking down at the placement of the dancefloor tiles being installed she allowed her mind to drift to that night at the club. His warm skin, his deep voice. The way he handled her like he knew what he was doing… She hated that she had been allowing those kinds of thoughts to trickle in about him. Hated, hated that two days ago when she had sex with Leo it was Harry she was thinking about.
She felt like a nasty and disgusting woman. A pervert.
In the early afternoon, the landscaper had gone and the garden looked like it was ready to be filled in with hundreds of people ready to party. She was proud of the way it turned out. It all looked great.
But she was hungry. She’d eat then shower. Hopefully before Harry arrived. If he arrived that evening.
The chef’s kitchen had a lovely granite island with unstained walnut and wide plank hardwood floors. The refrigerator was ridiculously large. Opening up the state-of-the-art appliance she peered inside trying to find something quick to eat. She planned on having cheese tortellini later on. Leo was out for the day and told her not to wait up. That he would be back late. Some conference or something. It wasn’t abnormal for him to be gone for hours or days. She enjoyed the quiet and loved to eat simple dishes when he wasn’t around. Things that she craved like macaroni and cheese, frozen fish sticks, or cheesy tortellini, and a bottle of wine.
She settled on yogurt and a double serving of granola as she sat at the island. She just needed an in-between lunch and dinner snack to tide her over.
Just before she scooped her last bite into her mouth she heard footsteps and then his voice, “Anyone home?”
She quickly scrambled off her stool and stood up just as he entered the kitchen. His dark curls were perfectly placed on his head and he wore a colorful Hawaiian-style shirt and black jeans with leather Chelsea boots.
“Hi! Yeah, was just eating a snack. Uh, make yourself at home, Harry!” Her tone was a bit too perky and she cringed at how silly she sounded.
Harry smiled gently and nodded as he dropped his gaze to her legs and back up, “Yes ma’am. Just gonna take this up to my room first.” He lifted his duffle bag, “Looks really good out there,” gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder, “Looking forward to it.”
“Oh, so glad you like it. It was some work to get everything just right. The guys setting up were so great, though. There are still a few more things to finish up tomorrow but I think for now we’re on track. But um…” she walked to the sink to rinse her bowl out as she looked over her shoulder at Harry, “I’m, uh… just headed to take a shower, though. Haven’t had the chance yet today. So…” she trailed off her sentence. None of what she was saying mattered to him at all. She was sure of that.
Harry puffed out a quick little laugh, “Okay. Yeah. Well, I’ll be in my room.”
Her shower was delightful but her nerves weren’t soothed. She was wound up tight and now that her stepson was here in her house, alone with her… she closed her eyes to compose herself. A ridiculous woman. A dirty and perverted woman. Who thinks of their stepson in this way? It’s absolutely disgusting. Immoral. Depraved. Evil. But it had all begun with that night and the way he danced with her. Innocent. Until it wasn’t.
She stayed in her room for a while. Not sure how she should go about acting casually in front of Harry. After that night at the bar, how could she? They had crossed a line. She had crossed a line. She took responsibility for this whole mess in her mind. She was the one at fault. Harry was only 20. Well, 21 now. Technically his birthday was today.
Fuck! She’d forgotten to wish him happy birthday!
Pulling her leggings up and slipping on a t-shirt she huffed as she paced the room. Well, now she had to go and tell him and also apologize for the state she was in when he arrived and how she’d forgotten and…
Calm down. He probably doesn’t even care, Y/n.
Knocking at his cracked open bedroom door she peeked in to see that Harry wasn’t in there. She looked down the hallway and for some strange reason she stepped into his room and her eyes landed on his laptop that was open.
Porn.
He was watching porn. Y/n let out a surprised laugh and shook her head. She was overstepping so many boundaries. She looked at the screen as she moved away, intending on leaving his bedroom and going to find him when her eyes landed on the title of the video he had up.
Stepmom and Stepson Share a Bed
Her pulse grew fast and her palms began to sweat. Of course, perhaps that meant nothing. Perhaps that was just something he was watching that he found hot and didn’t realize it was stepmom porn or something…
She backed herself out of the room quickly but when she felt his hands on her shoulders and his voice, that fucking voice that sounded like sex, “You okay? Nearly ran me over-“
But he stopped short. He looked at the bed where his laptop was open and realized what she’d seen. He’d been saving his favorite stepmom porn videos lately. This one was just up. He wasn’t actually watching it before he’d stepped out of the room. It had just been on the screen when he closed out the Word doc he was working on for an essay at school.
“Fuck.” He whispered and released her shoulders, “Y/n, I… look that was just-“
Y/n turned with wide eyes and held her hand up quickly, “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have come in here. I was looking for you to um… I was gonna wish you a happy birthday, and I… I’m the one that should be sorry. That…” she pointed toward his bed, “I shouldn’t have seen that.”
Harry was embarrassed. He felt like crawling under the bed and staying there til the day he died. Never to be seen or heard from again. He was so careless to leave that up like that.
He swallowed and ran his hands over his face and shook his head, “Oh my god. Fuck.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Y/n placed her hand on his forearm and pulled one of his arms down, “Look at me.”
Harry opened his eyes and looked at her like she asked, “No worries okay? That was just nothing. It’s just porn. Everyone looks at porn. It’s normal. Okay?”
“Watching stepmom porn is normal?”
Y/n swallowed. She didn’t think he’d directly come out and say that, “Well… I mean… sure. If there’s a category on Pornhub for it that means someone likes it. You’re not the only one.” She tried to laugh but it died in her throat when Harry clenched his jaw and tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling.
“And besides,” her fingers tightened over his arm, “it’s not like that’s about me anyway. Come on… it’s just porn. So don’t-“
“Of course, it’s about you, Y/n. Why else would I be interested in that kind of thing?”
#ask#firstpost#harry styles#harry styles fic#coming soon#stepmom!reader x harry#harry styles x stepmom!yn#harry styles smut#virgin!harry
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Revisiting AnWL’s Original Bachelors
Before I state my own opinion on the bachelors, I’d like to address this:
So with everything else in AWL, the game’s original three bachelors (Rock, Gustafa, and Matthew) have received a facelift and slightly updated dialogue/cutscenes. I’ve seen a lot of back and forth online on whether people liked the big changes made to Matthew and Gustafa’s appearance (Rock’s appearance changed very little from 2004 to now) and I, for one, welcome our new(old?) bishie overlords. To really put this topic in perspective, I think we gotta keep in mind that when Another Wonderful Life came out, it was more-or-less 98% the same as A Wonderful Life, just with a re-skinned female PC and male marriage candidates. I have the strong suspicion that Gustafa, Rock, and Matthew (Marlin in the OG) were never originally designed or written with the intention that they would become the hottest bachelors in a female-led game. A lot of this can be seen just by comparing them to their female counterparts - all of the bachelorettes (aside from Nami) have a traditionally cute appearance and warm personality. The bachelors don’t follow this pattern as rigidly. Matthew is stand-offish, if not outright rude; Gustafa isn’t handsome; and Rock is.... well, flakey?
This isn’t to say the bachelors didn’t have their own charm at all. Rock shows his inner heart of gold on occasion, and is always honest. Matthew is a hardworking man just trying to contribute to his sister’s farm, and dealing with his own baggage. Gustafa is light-hearted and easy to please.
I think their facelifts in the most recent game just signals Marvelous’s commitment to appeal to more players within their target age range. Gustafa and Matthew look younger and bishie. Rock’s dialogue has him slightly more sympathetic. I don’t think these changes could be considered bad at all - just a sign of different times, with Marvelous understanding their players better.
Anyways, on to my opinions on the latest version of each of the three original bachelors: (I’ll give Gordy, the new bachelor, his own post later!)
Matthew is the first I wanted to talk about, because on the outside, he’s definitely changed the most. Gone is the bad-boy 90s delinquent hairstyle and demeanor that seemed more fit for a shonen manga than a farming sim - now he’s an office-worker bishie, but still struggling to make his own way in a new village, just like in 2004. Unfortunately, his updated looks don’t save him from his crappy attitude. One of his first rival cutscenes is him yelling at you for simply trying to carry on a conversation with Cecilia. You only get, like, two sentences in before he jumps down your throat. Ugh. That on it’s own way enough to discourage me from continuing to pursue him as a love interest. It’s just obnoxious and possessive. Would you believe this guy is 32 and still acting this way? In traditional fashion, other NPCs don’t call him out on his behavior, even Vesta, who knows how ‘he can be about Cecilia’ - and you’re just supposed to put up with it. I’m not sure if further cutscenes eventually remedy any of this, but his behavior is off-putting enough that I didn’t care about finding out.
Gustafa remains as chill and groovy as ever. He’s looking a little more John Lennon than elf/leprechaun these days, but the overall aesthetic is the same. They took his original shrugging animation away and replace it with the same generic arm-wave as everyone else, but not everything can be a victory. He has some expanded dialogue that freshens his character up a bit, and the love song he sings during the romantic cutscenes makes more sense in this translation than the first game. Gustafa was always my favorite in the first, and he continues to be so in this remake - always gentle and kind, and a good spouse and father. If only he could play more than one melody on his guitar. I just hope he bathes more often this time around.
Ah, Rock, the would-be playboy of Forgotten Valley. Still getting up at noon exactly. Still getting chased by the dog. His dialogue has been reworked to make him a little more humorous this time around, instead of mildly-annoying like before. The translators did a good job with him, and I was always interested in what he had to say, even if it was useless. Unlike Matthew and Gustafa, his design was almost entirely unchanged - his pants are slimmer and that’s it. His voice has also mysteriously deepened... though I wouldn’t put it past him to use a voice changer to try to entice the ladies. Just like Gustafa, his unique animation of gesturing with both hands was also removed for the generic arm-wave. He’s genuinely fun to talk to, just to hear what he has to say. His slacker attitude is off-putting as far as romance goes, though, even if none of the marriage candidates actually work on the farm. It’s about the attitude, people!
#sos a wonderful life#sos awl#another wonderful life#a wonderful life#story of seasons#rock#gustafa#matthew
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Calico: Chapter 4
Story Summary: Now that he is a successful business owner and financially stable,Yoongi felt it was finally time to welcome a hybrid into his home. What he didn’t expect, was a chance meeting with the young calico that would steal his heart.
Chapter Summary: After Mika expresses her loneliness, Yoongi decides to start bringing her to work.
Pairing: CEO Yoongi x Calico hybrid OC.
Mentioned Pairings: Hinted potential Bunny hybrid Jungkook x Calico OC. Jin x Wolf hybrid Namjoon. Taehyung x Cat Hybrid Jimin
Rating: PG
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 3.5k
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Images used in header are not mine. All written work is 100% my own, editors and beta readers will be credited as needed. Do not copy, translate, or repost my work onto other sites without my permission.
Previous Chapter . . . Next Chapter
Calico Masterlist
The others visiting became a much more common occurrence now. Not that Yoongi minded too much, just happy everyone was getting along, but he still enjoyed the peace of being alone in his own home. With the exception of the super playful cat girl that lived with him. The more comfortable Mika got living with him, the more hyper she got as well. Always curious, always getting into trouble, and always wanting Yoongi’s attention.
“Yoongi!” speak of the devil, the calico was now pulling at his sleeve while he was working on his computer.
“Yes Kitten?” he asked, not tearing his eyes away from the screen.
“Play with me!” she whined as she tugged harder on his sleeve. It took everything in Yoongi’s power not to smile at her antics, opting to gently nudge her off instead.
“I’m busy Mika, we can play later,” he said. Clearly, she didn’t like this, as he heard a huff before feeling her move off the couch. Looking up from his computer, he couldn’t help but smile a bit as she pouted up at him from her new position on the floor. “Now what is that look for?” he asked.
“You’re always busy!” Mika whined, “you never spend time with me!”
“I have to work Mika, this house doesn’t pay for itself after all.”
“But you work all week,” she pointed out, “I never get to see you and when you’re here you work too. Why don’t you want to spend time with me?” Yoongi frowned a bit when he heard this. It’s not like he meant to ignore her, it’s just that work was really dragging him along recently. Then again, that wasn’t something he expected the young hybrid to understand when she was still so unfamiliar with how the world worked. From her perspective, it just felt like he was leaving her alone all day.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said, leaning forward a bit to scratch behind her ears, “give me another hour or two to finish what I’m doing, and then we’ll go out for dinner and ice cream, sound good?” Mika immediately perked up at the mention of the frozen dessert and nodded.
“Promise?” she asked.
“I promise,” Yoongi assured, messing up her hair a bit before returning to his work while Mika busied herself with one of her scratching posts. If it weren’t for specific incidents where she showed off how smart she was, Yoongi would have assumed she was more cat than human.
True to their word, she left him alone long enough to finish his work, eventually tiring herself out and falling asleep in her sunbathing spot. It was a spot under the windows that she had fitted with a few blankets and pillows because, “The floor is too hard and there’s not enough sun in my room.” Turning off his laptop, Yoongi smiled as he watched her for a moment, admiring how peaceful she looked before standing up and going to get changed so they could go out. Instead of hanging his full outfit, he replaced his sweatshirt with a fitted black turtleneck and brushed his blonde bangs out of his face. After deciding not to freshen up with makeup he made his way back to the living room and over to the sleeping Calico. As gently as possible, he kneeled down and shook her awake.
“Mika,” he whispered, “it’s time to go.” Mika groaned a bit before her eyes fluttered open, looking up at him for a minute as she fully woke up. Yoongi chuckled a bit and brushed her hair from her eyes, “Why don’t you go fix your hair real quick so we can go?” Another tired groan was her response before she nodded and sat up, taking a moment to stretch as she made her way to the bathroom. Chances were, she wasn’t going to change as he did, but she was still presentable enough to go out so Yoongi didn’t mind too much. Wearing dark leggings and an oversized sweater (that was actually his), combined with her small size, she actually looked pretty cute.
The place that Yoongi settled on was a small café that was only a block away from his company building. He had gone there once for his lunch break and, while not usually his style, the food there was actually pretty good. Given that this was only Mikas’ second time leaving the house with him, he didn’t want to overwhelm her by going somewhere that would be crowded. Not to mention he didn’t feel like dressing up and going through the hassle of eating somewhere more high-end either, and some of those places were still very sensitive about hybrids. So, all things considered, this place was a win-win. Mika couldn’t help but look around as they exited the car, her owner having to grab onto her wrist to make sure that she didn’t wander off and get lost.
Thankfully they arrived just before the usual dinner rush so they were seated almost immediately. Yoongi thanked the host with a small bow and glanced down at the menu while Mika opted for staring out the window. If this is how she reacted every time they went out, then he may have to start bringing her with him more when she got her better collar. He was already in the discussion of getting one made with a friend of his after observing the cat long enough to find her preferences. Honestly, neither of them were really much for conversation so he had learned most of what he knew about her either from observation, information Hoseok received and relayed to him, or passing comments Mika had made on her own. It wasn’t much, but given how long they had been living together, it was good enough.
Other than her personality, he knew a bunch of small facts about the hybrid. She was born in Japan and brought to Korea by her new owner. She was part of a litter of two but was separated from her brother when she was adopted. She is very sensitive to the cold, she loves music, and, most importantly, he found out that she has a major allergy to apples. Thankfully the last one he found out from Hoseok and not by accidentally feeding her the dreaded fruit. Yoongi was protective enough over the female as is, so her being hurt because of him would have devastated him.
“Mika,” he called out softly, snapping the calicos’ attention back to him, “you need to tell me what you want so we can eat. You can stare out the window afterward.” Mika hummed a bit as she turned to sit down properly. “Do you know what you want?” Yoongi asked after another few minutes, to which Mika pouted and shook her head. He hummed and leaned forward so that they were looking at the menu together. “Well, what do you like?” he asked, getting the exact same response as the first question.
“I don’t know,” Mika whined, “what can I have?”
“Whatever you want,” Yoongi replied with an assuring smile. Realizing very quickly that they were getting nowhere, he decided to help with a few more questions. “You like meat right?” she nodded, and action that he copied, “any specific type of meat?” She shook her head which caused him to frown a bit. “You also like vegetables right?” when she nodded again he sighed, “I need you to speak up kitten.”
“Yes,” she replied shyly, which made Yoongi smile.
“Do you prefer white or fried rice?”
“I’ve only ever had white rice.”
“Are you okay with spicy?”
“Yes.”
“Do you like noodles?”
“Depends on what they’re made with.” Well, at least they were getting somewhere, but it still wasn’t narrowed down enough. Looking at the menu again, Yoongi finally came up with an idea and nodded to himself.
“How about this,” he offered, “I’ll share my food with you and also get a few different side dishes for you to try and see what you like. Does that sound good?” Mika seemed a bit unsure but agreed anyways to avoid wasting more time.
The side dish idea actually worked out pretty well. The two of them managed to clean off most of the plates and Mika seemed satisfied with the food. Though choosing ice cream was definitely a lot easier for the Calico, who knew what she wanted before they had even entered the parlor. Yoongi hadn’t been in much of a mood for the cold treat, but he still got a milkshake for himself so that Mika wouldn’t feel guilty being the only one with ice cream. Once again she seemed fascinated with the outside world, with Yoongi having to guide her attention back to the table a few times before she fell out of her chair trying to see out into the street. There was a park nearby as well, if he remembered correctly, perhaps he could take Mika there as well. Not tonight though since he still had more work to do when they got home. Not that the female was very happy about this as she began to pout on the way back home.
“Why do you have to do more work?” she whined.
“Don’t give me that look,” Yoongi pouted back at her, “we went out and had fun so now I have to finish my job.” Mika wanted to say something but decided against it, huffing a bit as she stared out the window. Yoongi would probably have to sit down and talk with her about it all in more depth later, but he didn’t want to ruin the fun night they had now.
It was only later that night when Yoongi actually thought over Mika’s complaints. He was sat in bed on the phone with Jin, his hybrid companion having already fallen asleep an hour prior.
“She’s got a point you know,” Jin said, “you dedicate your whole life to your job.”
“Should I not? My family worked hard to get the company where it is today,” Yoongi argued. On the other end, he could hear the older sigh.
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t care about your job Yoongi. In fact, I’m the last person that would tell you that. What I am saying is that you need to think about how she sees it. You work from sunrise to sunset every weekday, and then when the weekend comes, your days off, you bring work home with you. What else is she supposed to think?” This time it was Yoongis turn to sigh, running his fingers through his hair.
“What am I supposed to do?” he asked, “it’s not like I can just abandon my work because my hybrid needs my attention.” A few moments of silence passed between them, Yoongi was about to end the call before Jin finally spoke up again.
“Why don’t you just bring her to work with you?” it sounded like the most obvious solution in the world when his Hyung said it, and yet Yoongi hadn’t even considered it. “Your office is large enough to fit a crowd, just set up a corner for her to relax and there, problem solved! You get your work done and Mika gets to spend time with you.” Yoongi hummed a bit, thankful that Jin couldn’t see his current expression.
“Something tells me letting a curious cat girl loose in the office isn’t the best idea,” he argued, to which his friend scoffed.
“You let Jungkook and Jimin in the office, there is no way she is worse than they are,” he pointed out, “besides, if she gets bored she can just go hang out with them!”
“Because Tae definitely needs more distractions,” Yoongi muttered under his breath. Thankfully Jin didn’t hear that so he cleared his throat, “I’ll think about it. I should probably go to bed though before I stay awake all night again, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight Yoongi,” with that the line went dead, again leaving Yoongi alone with his thoughts. It didn’t seem like he would be getting sleep tonight anyways.
Yoongi literally considered the option of bringing Mika with him up until the moment he was putting his shoes on and walking out the door, yet he still didn’t know if he made the right choice. Walking through the neatly laid out office building, he got quite a few stares from his workers. Partially because he was their boss so his presence alone demanded attention, but also because of the shy cat that was pressed against him as they walked. A few workers clearly tried to get closer to the hybrid since they had never seen her before but Yoongi was making it hard. Calmly shooing people away that tried to get too close and answering any questions directed at Mika.
Yoongis office, along with the rest of his higher-up staff, was located on the top floor of the building. It was a bit more open with offices and meeting rooms on either side, some with all windows and others that were closed off. There was also a mini breakroom in the middle of the floor and a reception desk at the front. There was a similar one on the first floor as well, but given this was where the higherups worked you usually needed an appointment to get up here. Mika also took note of the fact that there were significantly fewer people than on the lower floor, which made her a bit more comfortable. Yoongis office was at the very end and clearly the biggest. A shiny plate with the name “Mr. Min” etched beside the locked door separating them from the room. The interior was just as nice, an open room with floor-to-wall windows that allowed the sun to illuminate the room and a beautiful view of the city. Blackout curtains rested on either side for when Yoongi found the light to be too much. Multiple shelves and cabinets lined the walls, some containing books, pictures, and certificates Yoongi had received over the years. His desk stood proudly in the middle, the dark wood a stark contrast to the bright room with a large office chair resting behind it and two smaller chairs in front. In the corner was a small couch, that would probably become Mika’s area if she liked coming to work with him. After the addition of a few more blankets and toys of course.
“Now,” he said as he unlocked and opened the door to his office, stepping aside and allowing her to walk in first, “you are going to have to behave while I work and either stay in here or with Tae or Jin. Jin’s office is the one next to mine and Taes is right at the end of the hall. If you need to go anywhere else please let someone know so you don’t end up lost in this giant building okay?” Mika tilted her head a bit as she looked up at him before nodding. Yoongi smiled softly and ran a hand through her hair, “Good girl, let me know if you need anything.” He made his way to his desk as she got herself comfortable on the couch, stretching out and yawning softly. Yoongi had woken her up rather abruptly so she was probably going to end up falling back asleep in a few moments.
His suspicions were proven true when he looked over and saw her snuggled into the corner fast asleep, hugging herself with her legs pressed against her body. Not wanting her to get cold, Yoongi grabbed the blanket he brought and draped it over her softly before returning to his desk. The pile of documents in the corner demanded his attention and it would only get bigger as the day went on. Mostly contracts and signing off on new plans, so Yoongi managed to get through a lot of them within the first few hours of the day, occasionally looking over to make sure that Mika was okay. Other than opening her eyes for a moment or two or shifting around she remained asleep. That was until a knock at his office door startled her awake and almost made her fall off the couch. Yoongi gave her an apologetic glance before returning his attention to the door and calling out, “Come in.”
Mika watched quietly as the door opened and a woman walked in, dressed up in a pantsuit that matched what Yoongi was wearing. The hybrid couldn’t help but look down at her own outfit a bit and feel out of place. She didn’t have anything fancy to wear like the people that worked here. “Good morning Mr. Min,” she greeted with a soft bow, Yoongi nodding softly and motioning for her to take a seat.
“Good morning Jieun,” he greeted back. The two proceeded to start talking about some business plan that Mika couldn’t even remotely understand. Still, she listened in as if she did, wanting to feel like she was a part of the conversation. From what she had gathered, they were discussing a schedule change and an upcoming meeting he had with someone named…Kim? In all honesty, she stopped paying attention after that, deciding that the birds flying right outside the window were more interesting. It was then that the other two in the room were reminded of her presence. “Oh right,” Yoongi said, “Jieun, this is my new kitten, Mika. Mika, this is Jieun, my assistant, you’ll probably be seeing her a lot.”
Mika turned to look at the woman in question, giving her a soft, “Hello.”
“Nice to meet you, Mika,” Jieun greeted with a soft smile, “hopefully we can be friends.” She bowed her head slightly but Mika didn’t make an effort to move or say anything which caused the older woman to frown.
“She’s shy,” Yoongi explained, “give her time and she’ll warm up to you.” Jieun nodded before glancing at the clock.
“Well I should return to my desk, you should receive that email by the end of the day.” Yoongi nodded and stood up to see her out. As he did so, Mika decided to get up as well and make herself comfortable in his office chair. A soft giggle echoed through the room as she spun around a bit, only to be stopped by Yoongi.
“Excuse me miss, but that’s my chair,” he mused with a playful chuckle.
“I like your chair,” Mika exclaimed, “it’s big and it feels like you.”
“The couch is bigger Mika, surely that must be more comfortable,” Yoongi argued as he grabbed her wrist and gently pulled her up. The second he sat down though, the calico had placed herself in his lap with her head on his shoulder. “Kitten, off,” he warned. The compromising position and the fact that anyone could walk in had heat rising to his cheeks at an alarming rate. If Mika noticed though, she didn’t care as she nuzzled into him.
“But why?” she whined, “I wanna cuddle.”
“We don’t cuddle in public Mika,” he scolded lightly, pushing her enough so she was looking at him, “I have to work and it’s not professional to be affectionate like this.” As gentle as he tried to be, she still got upset. Ears dropping to rest against her head and her lips forming that all too familiar pout. Yoongi sighed and looked around frantically for a bit before getting an idea, “You know what? Jungkook is here, why don’t you go spend time with him while I work? I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to cuddle with you.” He let out a sigh of relief when she perked up, slowly maneuvering her off of his lap and walking her to the door. “Like I said, Taes office is right at the end there. Do you see it?” he pointed to it as he spoke and waited for her to nod before moving away, “I’ll come get you when it’s time to go okay?”
“Can we cuddle when we get home?” she asked, causing him to wince a bit.
“Sure,” that answer seemed good enough as Mika quickly made her way down the hall and to Taehyung’s office. Yoongi stayed at the door to make sure she got there okay before closing it and returning to his desk. Seeing his reflection in his laptop screen, he realized how much he was blushing and quickly hid his head in his hands. He would definitely need to have a talk with Mika about boundaries later, at least when they were in public. Even if he tried to deny it, Yoongi really did enjoy the attention when they were alone or with friends. “Ugh,” he muttered to himself, “what is this girl doing to me?”
Taglist: None (To be added to Calicos taglist comment or message me)
#bts#bts writing#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts fic#bts fluff#bts oneshot#bts x reader#bts hybrid fanfic#bts hybrid fic#bts hybrid au#hybrid#hybrid au#bts au#bts series#bangtan#bangtan boys#suga#suga x reader#suga x oc#bts x oc#min yoongi#yoongi#yoongi x reader#yoongi x oc#yoongi fluff#suga fluff#suga fanfic#suga fanfiction#yoongi fanfic
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Today's Holiday: The Intern Pt. 1
July 28: National Interns Day
yesterday's holiday
In which we see Michael from a different perspective...
18+
"Oh, Donnie!" a deep voice boomed across the roomful of cubicles.
Donnie was already sweating at his desk, a small, scrawny man. He didn't answer the call, didn't even turn his head to look. It was Michael, his ripped, bearded boss. Maybe if Donnie ignored him, Michael wouldn't...do what he usually did.
Donnie was kidding himself. Of course Michael was going to play his games. Donnie knew what day it was; National Interns Day. Michael had been reminding him of the "holiday" for weeks. That meant he was probably going to do something worse this time.
"Donniiieee," Michael said in a crooning fashion right behind him.
Donnie didn't want to turn his head, because he knew exactly what would happen. He was never allowed to breathe clean air for very long.
The intern exhaled and turned his head to look. A big ass in navy blue slacks rested on his shoulder. BLRB-BWRRRRR!
Donnie turned his head with a whine, but Michael turned it back with a big, forceful hand. "I told you I had a gift for you. It's National Interns Day, buddy. That means you're the focus of the day."
BRRRWAHP!
Donnie felt it against his shoulder, and his face was surrounded by a cloud of stink like a dumpster fire. No, it was like the time he'd passed a decomposing deer while jogging. Worse, even.
"Stop!" Donnie leaned away, swatting Michael's arm as he tried to grab. "It smells so bad!"
"You're right." Michael's ass left his shoulder, and the man turned to face him. He ran fingers through his beard as he took a long sniff. "That's enough...for now."
Michael winked and walked away. Donnie wished he had air freshener, but the last time he'd sprayed, Michael had called him into the office and farted so many times he almost got sick. He didn't want a repeat of that. Instead, Donnie tried to fan the bad air away with a folder.
Michael came back around a couple hours later, but only to do a routine cropdusting of the cubicles. Donnie caught a whiff of the stink, but it was better than being blasted in the face.
Michael returned as Donnie was getting ready to leave for lunch. He was thankfully already standing, but Michael blocked the opening of his cubicle. "Why don't you take the rest of the day off?"
Donnie was confused. It had to be a trick. He didn't trust Michael's smile. "I can't. My mom can't pick me up until she's done with work."
"I'll drive you."
Donnie imagined being locked in a car with a bunch of his boss's deadly, disgusting farts. "Uh, I'm good."
"I promise I won't fart." Michael put up a hand as if swearing on a Bible. His smile was bigger. "Come on, I'm trying to do something nice for you."
Donnie took a second, trying to figure out if the smile was genuine, if he really was trying to be nice. The man had happily farted in Donnie's face so many times, and there was nothing to stop him from doing it again. "I don't know..."
Michael sighed and crossed his massive, tan arms. "I'll be waiting in my car. If you don't come, I'll sit here with you the rest of the day."
"Okay," said Donnie, immediately accepting the lesser of two evils. The ride to his house was ten minutes. Even if Michael did fart, it would be better than three hours of farts right beside him.
"Good." Michael left, and Donnie let him get significantly far ahead to combat the stench of any possible farts.
He reached the lot and found Michael's car, sitting in the front passenger seat. The air smelled like the old, stale farts undoubtedly trapped in his boss's poor seat. Michael started the engine and pulled out of the office parking lot. "Where do you live?"
"Pinecrest," Donnie answered quietly. His heart was beating fast, and he was almost shaking with nerves. He knew Michael, and this much pure kindness wasn't him. Ordinarily, everything was done as the leadup to a nasty fart.
If this was one of those times, Michael was sure letting it build up.
Donnie sat back and stared out the window, watching residential rodes pass by. They passed Pinecrest, and his heart dropped. "What--?"
"I have a proposition for you." Michael smiled and pushed a button on his door. "You smell my farts and I make you a salesman. I'll even give you two accounts right away so you get a good first paycheck.
Donnie squeaked. He couldn't be serious. "I'm not smelling your farts. Don't you have a boyfriend for that?"
"But he loves it. It's not as fun." Michael turned a smirk on his employee. "I'll give you a bonus. I know you hate it, but that's the whole point."
Noxious green stink filled the car without warning. Donnie grimaced at the thickness of it, covering his mouth. He coughed and tried his window, but it was locked. "Michael! No! It's so bad!"
"You'll get an office, and I promise I won't fart in it," Michael continued, really trying to push his agenda. "Or at least, I'll try not to fart in it much. I will still be your boss, but you'll be the boss of other people. All you have to do is let it in."
Michael gripped the steering wheel and lifted his ass. PWRRRT! BWRRR-ERRR! He sighed heavily with a big smile.
Donnie groaned, fanning the air and trying his window again, though he knew it wouldn't work. "How many farts?"
"Well, I already told my boyfriend I have an emergency conference out of town." Michael chuckled and turned into the lot of a motel. "How does three days sound?"
"No way! That's too much!" Donnie protested. The car was a rolling death chamber of toxic, aerated chemicals.
Michael parked and leaned away from Donnie. BWRT! BRRRRRrrr..."Ah! Three days: today, tomorrow, and the next day, and I'll give you a week paid vacation."
Donnie pulled his shirt over his face and tried to breathe normally. He'd never smelled anything so bad. Donnie closed his eyes and wondered if it was worth it. It seemed ridiculously easy; it was just smelling farts.
But the farts were horrible, and the man was brutal with his sharing of them.
Three days of farts was nothing compared to weeks and weeks of paid commissions and an entire seven days of paid vacation. If he didn't do this, he wouldn't get that many job perks for at least another year.
"Okay," Donnie said slowly. "I'll do it."
"Alright!" Michael turned off the car. "I guess it's Happy Interns Weekend now, huh?"
@gatzilksis-2 to buy my stories or order your own!
#eproctophilia#farts#eprocto#fart kink#flatulence#gatzilksis#fart fiction#fart stories#male fart fiction#male fart stories
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Butch/Femme and the Black experience
So I was workign on my comic triple moon and simultaneously scrolling through tumblr when i came across someones post about butch/femme relationships. As a young lesbiann i was really really invested in those kinds of dynamics. But now as a adult i forgot what it was about. Since i was working on some things for my comic, i decided to freshen up my memory about it.
As I read some artciles and texts about it i found myself getting steadily irked and i wanted to investigate why. after more research, some writing, and thought i realized something. Butch/femme relationships would never work for me. And here's why. First of all, I am a black nonbiary lesbian. A lot of my experience with gender and sexuality are dependent on my race. As a black person, my autonomy was stolen from me. From the day i was born, till the day i die, everything i do and say will be dictated to me based on the color of my skin.
My emotions will never be my own. If i do not act a certain way i am dictated as the violent black person. Or I'm the saintly black person that dictates anothers perspectives on black people as a whole. My presentation will never be my own. Black women are forcefully masculanized from day one and are not even considered to be women under white supremacy and eurocentric standards, and black men are seen as monsters for similar reasons. So what about black queer people? They get it worse.
See, butch and femme mainly meant white people. It always has. If it didn't, why is stud the word used for BLACK masc lesbians? And also, what does it mean to be a femme? What does that look like? Who does that entail? I bet your imaging a white person. And same with butch. It will never work for me or anyone like me because i am black first and foremost. And with the way these articles and texts were talking about it, its almost like they forget that QTPOC exist and can NEVER live up to the standards white gays make up.
And that's what angered me so much. Its all so eurocentric. Not just in appearance, because butch/femme relationships are not just based around looks, but the cultural actions/perspectives of how to treat your partner and stuff like that. How so? When I identified as a women, I had a gf, who was white, and they automatically assumed i was a dominant masc person. Why? Cause I don't take anyones shit, cause i speak my mind, I assert myself, I defend others. Black folk are raised to be tougher. To be strong, to not let people walk on you. because the world WILL do that to US!!! Its either that or we die, or we die either way. We have to be one thing or the other ALWAYS. Black women especially have to be taught this. They are not allowed to be soft or emotional. And they are not given the grace to be treated gently with love and care.
But my white partner did not consider this. Perhaps she saw how I acted as being butch, or more masc. Perhaps it was racism. But the fact is, black people have very different perspectives on relationships than white people do. Doubly so for QTPOC. And because this perspective is not considered, it becomes another opportunity for our autonomy to be stolen. And that's the thing, majority of QTPOC experience this all the time. Their white partners treatign them one way because their perspective is another.
I can see where and why Butch/femme had its place in history, but as a black person, i cannot fit under ideals made mainly by white people for white people. And I don;t think they realize its just another form of alienation. And its EVERYWHERE! Its in the atmosphere at bars and clubs and cafes that cater to queer people, its in how people date, it in how we talk and how we write and whos history we pull from.
I mean it was shocking to go out to the bars and the clubs and really feel that kind of alienation. To go to the dating apps and have ONLY FEMS! NO MASCS. REAL WOMEN ONLY! constantly thrown in my face. Feeling as if, if i do not fit into one thing then i am worthless and no one could want me. As if being nonbinary would only burden or disgust a partner. Its impossible to try and fit in when you literally do not adhere to a gender binary, or possibly any dichotomy for that matter. And that's the thick of it. People like me belong no where.
i see black sapphics/lesbians try all the time to fit into these standards. And i tried to as well. But i canNOT fit in. None of us will.
White gays will never understand that I don't think. I mean, many do not even realize there are two very different LGBTs, there's the white gays, and then there everyone else. Really I wanna know how the black lesbians and sapphics feel about this. Do butch/femme dynamics make you feel similarly safe, or is it just another extension of white queerness you feel you could never live up to?
As I came into my transess, as I realized I am nonbinary, I felt so centered in who I am as a lesbian. I became more comfortable with presenting fem and masc and everything and nothing. Because here I felt that I had a say in who I am. When I read about Butch/femme relationships, what once made me feel centered makes me feel out of place. And its because of the new perspectives I gained.
There is nothing wrong, obviously, with wanting that kind of relationship. Its just an extension of trying to understand and navigate being a lesbian/sapphic in a world that tries to tell you otherwise. But it irritates me how often these kinds of things are eurocentric to a T, and how white gays never seem to acknowledge that. Butch and femme just seems like another expectation that I cannot live up to for reasons more than just I am neither masc nor fem. For me, if that's not how you feel that of course that's fine. But i am speaking about the experience of being a black enby lesbian only.
I was interested in speaking about this because my story, Triple Moon, is about BLACK lesbians ONLY! Its about the alienation, that feeling that you can never be the standard. Feeling like you have to define it for yourself. And that you truly belong no where. It about that very Black Lesbian experience. And I have many characters who are studs and some who are fem and some who are androgynous and some who are none of these things. I explore these relationships and the conclusions i come to I think are very comforting for black lesbains/sapphics. Our queerness is different for so many reasons. And I like using my silly little comics to discuss these ideas.
#somedays they make me want to not be percieved#i wish white lesbians got this some days#black lesbians how we feeling#lesbian#lesbians#sapphic books#lesbian being lesbian#butchforfemme#butch for butch#femme for femme#let the lesbians be lesbians
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Fun Facts About Me Tag
Tagged by @ahordeofwasps - thanks, friend!
I'll leave this one as an OPEN tag because I'm not sure how many people have done this one already. So do it if you want, and have fun!
A scent you love:
Vanilla. I'm actually allergic to an ingredient in a lot of scents and perfumes so I have to be super careful about any kind of artificial scents, including but not limited to air fresheners, deodorant, body sprays, bathing products, makeup, laundry detergent, washing up liquid, scented toilet paper, scented sanitary products, scented bin bags... (I didn't even know you could get scented bin bags, that last one drove me crazy trying to work out what was setting me off). I've narrowed down that MOST perfumes/scented products from LUSH and The Body Shop are the cheapest safest thing I can use (I have also worked out that very expensive perfumes from Penhaligons or Channel don't set me off either but I'm also not made of money) The Body Shop does a very nice pure vanilla perfume that is my go to daily scent but any blend that has vanilla in is always nice. Very comforting and warm.
What's something you're looking forward to this week?
Getting any little snatches of relaxation I can now that Christmas (silly season) has started. Even if that means napping while @red-pen-ally plays chill farming games.
What's a book you're currently reading?
Unmasking Autism by Dr Devon Price. I really recommend it for fellow neurospicy folks, especially late diagnosed/high-masking folk, but it could also be a good resource for people with autistic friends or family who just want to know more about the neurotype from the perspective of people who are autistic. The book covers a lot of ground, from simply coming to terms with being autistic to exploring what life could look like if you unmask in some aspects of life and how to start going about it.
What's a game you're currently playing?
Cultist Simulator. It's a roguelike card-based narrative game where you start with nothing (except maybe a desire for some occult power) and have to create and build a cult to amass power, resources and dedicate yourself towards whatever desire you have. But you will have to manage problems such as dread, fascination, running out of money, sickness and pesky meddlers who will turn you in to the authorities for your dream crimes. And possibly all those bodies stuffed inside your cupboard. If you enjoy the narrative style of Fallen London, you'll like this.
What's the most recent movie you watched?
I realised I really don't watch many movies these days. Not really through a concentrated effort, I just never seem to find the time. However, I did recently learn that @red-pen-ally has never seen The Neverending Story, so I am definitely going to parcel out some time to traumatise her share this lovely childhood memory with her.
Are you watching anything on TV or listening to any shows?
Actively, no. The Great British Bakeoff is often on in the house, but I've not been following it super closely. If we tend to watch anything, it's usually odd videos on YouTube.
Favourite season?
Autumn. Cozy season, lots of comfy clothes, not too hot, not freezing cold, cocoa is always socially acceptable, pumpkin spice is in everything and Christmas treats start to become available.
What's something you've learned recently?
Not really learnt but had this one confirmed with science: autistic people aren't any worse at communicating effectively than allistic people (despite medical model of disability often labeling it as a communication-based disorder). Autistic people can usually communicate with autistic people just fine. Often, they can communicate with allistic people well enough, too, though this can often be very taxing as they have to translate the communication on their end. Allistic people, on the other hand, often fail to communicate effectively even with other allistic people, due to preferring less direct language and more euphemisms or talking around the subject. They also tend to draw conclusions and react based on perceived data instead of actual data. Which is wild when they label autistic folk as the one with the communication difficulty.
Have you had any water lately?
Coffee has water in it, that totally counts, right? Right?
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Hello! I’m a 20 year old with a bit of a free time looking something to help freshen out my OC. For those concerned, let me brief you in with a few details. For those who are familiar with me and come across this, please ignore!
About me: he/they, GMT+7. I do literate roleplaying, typically reply within a day, and will do my best to inform you otherwise.
About OC: The Hunger Games mentally conflicted male in his late 20s. 🥳🥳🥳
I prefer: Plot driven rp, dark themes, and intricate character study. Or anything that requires a bit of thought, raising questions, tricky situations really, anything that provides new perspective. Think of them as labrat. Spin them on a little disk. Study their brains.
I don’t do NSFW or explicit pairing. Beside that, if anything pops up or there’s a line you aren’t sure of, just ask! (Please do)
Leave a like/DM and I’ll reach out. Thanks!
.
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... alright! i'm tired! tired of 90% of your blog being blacked out to me because i censored 'trigun' 😭 tell me, where do i begin? where do i start... consuming, this story? there's like, an anime, i know, and the... rewrite of said anime?? all based on a manga i assume??? where do i start. what do i see. what do i skip. tell me i cannot live with this hamster drip of nysh content 😭😭
...?! HOLD UP also rip to your blacklist omfg I was totally under the impression you already knew, since you were the very first to notice a while back and ask me opinionated stuff about it! x'D Fortunately I've answered a similar ask relating to your current predicament~
As you can probably guess, each 'version' of Trigun essentially has its own separate canon (the 98 anime, the manga, and the new Stampede anime; there's 3 whole cakes to enjoy here~) as different tellings of the story + characters that diverge to explore the core themes and messages in their own ways. I do not recommend skipping anything, as it all builds to the lore, world, and characters! :O (Yes, even the silly 'filler' breather eps in the 98 anime's first half all build towards the whole picture, slowly revealing bits and pieces along the way. Even the 'recap' ep at midway pieces everything about Vash's character together thru Meryl's perspective, then introduces more to reframe what's known about him in new complexity.)
But if you're familiar with the old 98 anime (as I've been since 20+yrs ago) I'd recommend a rewatch just to freshen your memory of what happens. JYB's iconic voice work for the dub makes it worth (re)watching alone. Note the anime was created before the manga was even finished, so it draws from the first few early volumes then essentially becomes its own anime-original plotline with different lore akin to how the first fma anime went for example. :O Which upon rewatching recently myself, while it def has some dated 90s bits/gags you can safely ignore, the writing's core messages, themes, intent, and character-driven growth are still very solid and satisfying, with plenty of room left open for more. The strong emotional beats hit very hard for some unsuspecting watchers - going from a seemingly silly lighthearted episodic slapstick comedy at first, to transitioning thru the tragedies of some very heavy/difficult topics later. But worth it for the hopeful, healing process of living through major loss and trauma, and recovering from suffering emotional breakdowns and depressive spirals. :') So fair warning to pace yourself with breaks if needed, without speeding/binge-watching through that kind of content (eps23-25 are where it Hurts the hardest)!
...Cause then the manga takes all those emotional beats (+ the plot & characters) even further and harder than the old anime ever could!!! 8'D That coming out of that will probably make you question your whole existence worldview. Yes, the story's one of those gems that'll probably change your life~ In ways you simply have to experience for yourself to decide what meaning/interpretation/value it holds for you.
But Stampede is completely different from the old anime, since it draws its lore from the completed manga! :O While restructuring and exploring things in a whole new way. As long as you realize that - to not compare it to the old anime (since it's not a 'rewrite' of that story at all) and see it with open eyes as its own independent artform, then you'll have a much better time. Since I'd read the manga beforehand, I really enjoyed seeing the many endgame plot elements Stampede mixed in to set up and enrich what happens. You can of course choose to go in watching blind without that manga knowledge--it's up to you, but imo there's many more layers of appreciation once you realize how much they happened to rearrange and spin into their own thing. (So personally, I'd check out the manga first so you aren't spoiled with sudden endgame elements introduced early here.) BECAUSE, the biggest telling hint is seeing the whole season's timeline as an establishing 'prelude' of sorts before one of the major story events [July City] even happens (cause in the original story--for both the manga & old anime, that incident happens before the story begins, but here it's all different lead up with modified character backstories) with plenty more to continue the manga's (Trimax's) unadapted plot later in s2. Where of course you can have preferences to how it's done, but the overall lesson here is to have patience and let Studio Orange cook, because they knew exactly what they were doing--they did their homework on many meticulous fields of Interest, with everything done with care and purpose (yes, all those conspicuous 'odd' details like the reason why Milly's not here yet- it's explained!) with genuine love for the source material. :'D
The source material which--yes, begins as the Trigun manga (2 vols) and continues renamed as Trigun Maximum (14vols) under a new publisher as a hard seinen. Which currently! The fandom's having a whole bookclub (re)reading event, so it's the perfect time to join in if you feel so inclined! 8'D For enjoying maximum emotional damage and suffering, but easier to cope, navigate, and process among a friendly and supportive group environment~ I've already read the official Dark Horse translation (easily found on most manga sites, but thankfully there's a new hardcover reprint incoming!) but currently I'm trying a reread of the overhaul fan translation instead, as I hear it's more accurate overall. :'3 Hopefully all this info helps, as I bet there's plenty of overwhelming content you may have missed out on!
#trigun#umnokorito#replies#whoa that got to be much longer than i planned#but i Understand there's a Lot!!! to be confused with so here you go#at this rate i'll be behind on the bookclub schedule but i'll manage~
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Could we have Lucius’s perspective about what he likes about ordering Izzy around? In chapter 39 of more to the story he says he likes the moment Izzy switches to being his. Can we see what he means by that?
(hope this clarifies! not sure it does really, but fun to write Lucius getting into his headspace for once)
It had been an absolutely mediocre day. He’d spilled his coffee on himself first thing, and had to change out of his new favorite shirt to something from the bottom of his drawer, so already he’d been in a bit of a mood. Then it had just been one tiny annoyance after another. Right now to the weather, a faint misty rain that had come and gone in waves all day, leaving him damp and irritable.
Then he opened the front door of the apartment. The comforting familiar scent of it washed over him. The tinge of lemon from the cleaners Izzy preferred, the warm food smells that lingered around the kitchen and the faint musty smell of Sweeney’s presence that permeated everywhere.
Izzy came out of the bedroom, still mostly dressed from the day though the sleeves of his button up were rolled up a few times and he’d discarded his shoes.
“Hi, pup,” he took a few steps towards him. “How was your day?”
“Ugh,” Lucius dropped his keys into the bowl by the door. “Insert very long whining rant here, not in the mood to detail through it. You?”
“Fine. Lost a client, could’ve done without that, but the guy was a prick, so it evens out.”
“Yeah?” Lucius kicked off his shoes, bent down to take off his socks. Which were damp. “What happened?”
“Kissed and made up with his mistress apparently.”
“Lovely.” Lucius dropped his socks over his shoes to deal with later. He straightened slowly. Warmth suffused him. Izzy was standing a few feet away, at ease. Not smiling, but not unhappy either. Relaxed.
Ready.
“Yeah, well. You want the couscous for dinner?”
“You hungry right now?” Lucius checked.
It wasn’t desire that rose in him in these moments exactly. Lucius knew lust. It was easy enough with company or on his own, a bottomless desire that he could ease at any time. The hunger that Izzy provoked in him was something else. It had teeth that longed to bite, to rip and rend. It wanted tribute and obedience.
It was after a long day of indignities, of things rolling just out of his reach, of nothing just doing what it was supposed to, that Lucius felt it the most.
Maybe he just wanted to control the situation, have things go exactly as he wanted, in the way he expected. No one else telling him condescendingly how to handle something or choices being arbitrarily removed. Just his will and the world bending to it.
Or not the whole world. Who wanted a world? Just one man with the power, strength, money and brains to do a million things and who instead would do exactly as Lucius requested.
“Not yet,” Izzy said easily. Already his stance was shifting, shoulder rounding a little, chin dropping. "Had a late lunch."
“Then cushion now,” Lucius pointed to the couch and Izzy went without hesitation. He pulled down the cushion and knelt at the couch. “Stay. I’ll be there in just a few minutes, I want to freshen up.”
And Lucius, already feeling his irritation dropping away, went to the bathroom. He didn’t rush, but he also didn’t dawdle. It wasn’t a good idea to leave Izzy with his thoughts for too long. He re-emerged and Izzy’s attention was on him at once, not staring, but his whole body pulled towards him.
Like pulling on a robe or maybe taking one off, Lucius stepped forward and became something slightly different. His anxiety fell away, his worries about the day. His concentration was solely on Izzy, quiet and waiting before him. He was strong, centered. Ready.
“Take off my clothes,” Lucius ordered. “You can use your hands and you can stand up, but I want you to be quick about it.”
Izzy rose, his hands already extending. He lifted the shirt up and away, folding it despite the fact it would absolutely have to go into the wash, then setting it aside on the coffee table. Then he bent to undo Lucius belt, sliding it carefully through the loops so it wouldn’t snag. He coiled it up and set it next to the shirt. Pants were next, button plucked open and zipper pulled down. Lucius didn’t move to help him, except to raise a foot for fabric to be dragged away.
Izzy removed his underwear too when Lucius made no move to stop him and even those he gave a single fold, setting them on top of the shirt. Reverent. The he waited, standing before Lucius still clothed, but utterly naked for him anyway.
Lucius reached out and cupped his face, rubbed his thumb over h over Izzy’s cheekbone.
“Good,” he said softly. “Just as I wanted.”
And there it was. Izzy’s head went a little heavier against his palm, his eyes dropped to the floor, and soft exhalation of breath that left him utterly different though a stranger would see the same man. Lucius knew. Surrender had been given. He held Izzy’s will in his hand.
“You deserve a reward,” he went on. “But I’m not in a very rewarding mood. I want to string you along, watch you break apart for me. When do you get to come?”
“When you say, pup,” Izzy always talked a little slower like this, like it was coming up through viscous liquid.
“Exactly,” Lucius leaned in and held him still for a kiss. “And it may be a while. Let’s see how long you can give me. But first, I want to get off, get back down and do what you do best.”
Izzy sank to his knees and Lucius smiled down at the top of his head. All was in its place now, the world as it should be.
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so i have a problem….
for a long time i’ve been able to create characters out of pretty much nothing, from a picture or a simple reading alone. of course, i don’t go any further than setting up their physical appearance and completely forgetting about them in just a few hours, but the rare times i don’t forget about them, i try to make an entire character out them and make them feel real.
so far i’ve been able to do this with one character that i’ve been working on and building her up for years and she’s technically my only oc, but everytime i start to come up with a new character from this new place and these new things that aren’t related to her or her story, i’m afraid that they as a character is not going to be as fleshed out or as interesting as she is. i don’t have any backstory ideas for any other characters and i don’t hers to outshine everyone else’s.
can i fix this? if so, how?
thank you
While I can't exactly pinpoint what might be the core issue I can see what you're struggling with and I do have advice for it. And I'm sorry if this response comes too late but I figure this is something many artists can struggle with.
If I've understood correctly it's not due to a lack of inspiration, yes? Since you said you've been able to make ocs out of very small prompts or ideas (if the issue is lack of inspiration though, my biggest piece of advice is to simply seek out more, and new inspiration! The mind can stagnate and freshening up helps. Get new medias and look into what inspires others, get new life experiences and possibly dip your toes into other hobbies? It doesn't have to be major, anything to shake it up in there!)
Seems to have to do with attachment, generally speaking. While there's nothing wrong with wanting to focus on just one story/character, it'll become sucky if you, well don't want that. From my perspective, I think you just need to give new characters time to grow into themselves. I know that may sound odd but I'll elaborate. Sometimes when you make a new character you'll fall in love with them immediately and run off to do shenanigans with them. Sometimes, you make a character and, they just exist now. You may dislike something about them or be unsatisfied with them, or just not..~Feel~ for them, ykno? Or maybe none of those things apply. Maybe the character is just fine. So my first piece of advice is to let them grow. I recommend specifically taking a moment, or few, to focus on this new character Only. It may be hard but I do really recommend it. It can be just short moments like drawing them once, or a few times more, or listening to music and trying to pick out songs you think would vibe with this character, and really get imagining, ykno? At these beginning stages you can really have many "Ooh what if-" moments in developing a character! It's fun! Just find your preferred way of Getting Into™ a character
If you can't bring yourself to give them the spotlight now, worry not. Let them exist for a bit, but make sure that you have them somewhere you won't forget! Maybe write a synopsis of them somewhere or draw them, whatever helps. And let them simmer. You can totally come back to a character later to add more to them, or even revamp them completely! They are dough at your hands. Some dough needs more kneading and some needs to rest and rise, you feel? I actually had a story that took at least one year of existing for me to really get cozy and up close with it. I wasn't disinterested before, it just needed time to grow and I needed time to get more familiar with it, and it's characters. Consider the fact that you may just be rusty. And that's okay! If you haven't created something entirely new in a while, that happens. Push on, even if it's clumsy at first, bc you will get there! Just let yourself get back into the groove of making new stuff again.
My other advice is to make them interesting to you. "Well duh?", but what I mean is that if you're not vibing with the character you have now, make them something you'd vibe with. Literally you can make them into whatever! They don't necessarily need to be relatable to you for you to want to explore them, but if it helps to add a bit of yourself into the character then do that! Lame backstory? Spice it up! Flat personality? Scrungle it a bit. Boring design? Go wack. You get my point. Make them into something you'd be interested in working with.
Something that helps for me personally, is also, sharing them! If I get to talk about and really get into some character while explaining it to someone else that can easily put me in the mindset of thinking about and getting more fond of the character. You can also totally ask for advice, input, reviews or opinions from other people! Or just share the new character.
Summary:
1. Give em time. And a bit of love and care
2. Make it fun and interesting for yourself!
3. The rubber ducky method (I volunteer if you want to come share your new ocs here!)
And: Sometimes a character won't take off. You can't bring yourself to get invested in them or add them anywhere. That's okay. You can just dump them and start over. It's your story and your character and you decide what goes
#Help#Your ocs#(maybe?)#artist inspiration#artist motivation#Ocs#Oc creation#Oc help#I really hope this helped!!#I found this a very interesting ask and I wanted to craft the reply well and properly
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Honestly, I do tend to babble a lot so I'm glad you don't mind when I give long responses 😅
Honestly, it's not exactly yandere (icks) it's more like the idea of someone being possessive and the obsession it's more in a like "I'm constantly thinking about you and a lot of things I see remind me of you and while I do basic things I can't help but think it would be better if I did them with you or you will like it". Kinda like rlly caring. In the way a certain color or scent reminds you of someone, in the way one cooks and thinks of funny memories from when they cooked the same thing with someone.
The alpha/omega is something I enjoy mostly bcs one, I love the concept of big strong muscular Suguru, two, I love the idea of knotting and mating for life (especially when it requires both parts to complete the bond) and three, it requires quite the intensity. It's the satisfaction of instinct mingling with care and heart ig. The "I crave this person so bad it makes me quite pathetic". Probably bcs I'm not exactly the classic weak omega strong alpha but the feisty omega who could walk their partner like a dog. The one where things balance, as one is strong and can put up a nasty fight but the other is fast and could evade it and not be caught. It's the absolute comfort of simply cuddling and one purring because their partner is kinda under the weather and the sound and vibrations and scent and warmth feel simply healing.
In the soulmate kind of way, I guess
I'm a future social worker and honestly I find being around kids easier than being around adults many times. Kids are less stubborn and can be polished, are more open to ideas and are truly fascinating to talk with, got really different perspectives that many times restore my faith in humanity ngl
(Oh, to have Suguru wiping blood from you. Definitely don't mind it)
The next week things should start settling. Getting my glasses and, maybe, luckily, seeing at what dorms I get in for Uni and all that.
I hope for nice roommates, ngl
And take your time! I know how hard it is to write and how busy life is and all that. Don't worry, truly. Take your time, take care of yourself and your beautiful soul. Don't stress over it.
You're giving free content. Remind yourself you're not indebted to anyone, really. Do it in your own rhythm :3
~🦊
Ok ok ok ok I get it. And I take back my words, i do like your kind of possessive and obsessed because it’s so cute and it’s so everything and yes. Like them just thinking about you with everything, they saw flowers- they remember your favourite ones and decide to get you them, remembering that you like a specific scent so they buy that kind of humidifier and the room fresheners or even in the little things just smiling like an idiot thinking about you.
So I don’t really get the appeal with the mating thing (I’m afraid as fuck of commitment🤡) but but but the new wip! It has that love pathetically trope and akhskajkssjsks. And yes finally an omega and alpha thing I can support because I don’t like the timid and possessive trope. And I just, imagine an omega who’s like all intimating and shit but like putty in the alpha’s hand. Something where the omega can finally Let go of all responsibilities and just yk, let themself be treated well.
And it reminded me I need new glasses too, like I think I worsened my number✨(I am secretly afraid of doctors like not in a scared way but I don’t like doctor visits) and thank you so much for being understanding <3
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i swear i was JUST thinking about along came trouble yesterday and then i got a notification about the new chapter, what a coincidence 😃
also since you asked what we'd like to read in this story, well, speaking for myself, i have some ideas in mind. it's not like this is something you must do and you must do this and that blah blah, you know, just a few thoughts.
SO- well, first of all, unpopular opinion as fuck, but i'm not really a fan of the rest of the cobras x daniel and i think it wouldn't really work on this story (unless of course you want to make it work!) bc you know, i think Johnny is too possessive of daniel that it would feel a bit out of character for him to want to share the things he does to and with daniel with other people? yeah, even with his best friends, i think he wouldn't want to show that part of himself to other people. this is something between him and daniel, something just for him, you get what i'm saying? but that's how i see it in my head, as i said, you decide what you'll do with your story.
second, i would love to read a few chapters from johnny's POV, if you ever feel like writing it. i'd love to know johnny's thoughts on his time with daniel, how he feels after he leaves daniel alone, what he thinks about when he's with the cobras and away from daniel, if he ever has second thoughts about what he's doing, you know? when did he start having these kind of thoughts and feelings abou daniel........idk it would be interesting.🤷♀️
(p.s. writing this in anon bc it's more comfortable for me, hope you don't mind :) )
Hey, no problem anon! I was hoping to keep this private, but I guess I could hide the answer, in case people don't want to be spoiled for the fic (Along Came Trouble).
Only keep reading if you're okay with spoilers!
I agree, that the Johnny in this fic doesn't want to share. Daniel's distress over the Cobras getting involved has more to do with the prior chapter, where the bullying bled over into sexual bullying, and was over the top and aggressive. Johnny always goes a little too far with his friends, in a way that he had stopped being with Daniel in private.
Of course, Johnny couldn't resist an opportunity to make Daniel squirm and show him who has the upper hand. Despite what he threatened in the last chapter, he ultimately wouldn't want to share Daniel, more like use his friends to torment him as punishment. I decided to go in this direction because it will impact the plot later. Actually, thank you! Because I was going to include a scene that addresses this and kind of forgot. I was just so busy with training at my new job.
And I hadn't thought of writing from Johnny's perspective! I liked the idea of the reader being as confused and uncertain as Daniel was in the beginning, but we're far enough along in the plot that I don't think it would hurt. It might freshen things up. I may write a little from Johnny's perspective to see if it fits with the story. I may include it for the next chapter, or release it separately as bonus chapters.
Tbh, I think Johnny is still simple here, as he is in canon. He tends to act without thinking. I just see a himbo kind of confused about why this scrawny guy with delicate features is causing him to react this way, along with a lot of jacking off lol.
Thank you!
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