#Howdy x twinkle

[toasted-melow]

✨️ ko-fi ✨️

Saw that on Twitter and I had to do the same cuz I'd lose my mind if I didn't drew these silliess 😭💖

The reference 😭

[gracieheartspedro]

Snooze

Part 2 of "How Long"

pairing: f!reader x brother-in-law!joel miller

description: the next day, you're stuck in your own head about last night. how can joel change your mind and make you stay? spoiler, he can't.

word count: 6.1k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, pre!outbreak joel, this is mainly just angst. mentions of cheating. some sexual tension and talks of sex. this skips ahead 2 months in the middle, so a slight time jump. name calling, pet names also included.

author's note: this is part two of "how long"! I wanted to get into the smut but I wanted to add this kinda as a way to guide the reader through the next parts. and yes, there's more coming! enjoy joel being soft for reader.

Maybe it was for revenge in the beginning, but Joel made you feel like the woman you wanted to be all along. 

You wake up in his arms, and for the first time in a long time, you felt safe and secure. His soft snores were cute and not annoying like Tommy’s loud and obnoxious snores. His expression when sleeping was so precious, his nose wiggling and his brows not furrowed in their normal spot. When he notices you stirring, his snores fade and his eyes slowly drift open. Once he sees your staring, he gives you a lazy smile. 

“Mornin’ sweet girl,” He grumbles, stretching his legs and making his biceps flex under your neck. 

“Howdy,” You say softly. You sit up from the warmth he brings you, realizing you are still naked from your escapades. You grab a blanket from off the floor, wrapping it around yourself as you search the room for your clothes. 

“Want to borrow somethin’ from me?”

The offer sends chills down your spine. You turn to see him standing up from his side of the bed. He’s naked too, and good heavens, he’s hard. You physically couldn’t pull your eyes away from the man’s body. His upper body sculpted but as you trail down, a small pudge forming where his tummy is. Your lips twist upward, watching him sulk over to his dresser drawers. He opens the second drawer down, pulling out a pair of black sweatpants. He looks towards you, noting your expression. 

“You perv,” he groans, tossing you the pants, “My room, I can walk around naked.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, catching the pants. He’s so unserious and your laugh only enables his bad behavior. He shakes his head, opening another drawer to search for a t-shirt. He finds an old t-shirt he got at country music festival back in the early 90s. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it was one of the most worn t-shirts in his collection and he was secretly dying to see it on you. 

You pull the pants over your naked bottom half, suddenly taking notice to how huge they are on you. You take the drawstrings and tie them as tight as you can get them. The pant legs would drag across the floor, for sure. You felt so tiny in his clothes. 

He walks the shirt over to you instead of tossing it at you. When you realize what shirt he’s giving you, you let out an excited squeal. 

“I used to joke to Tommy I would somehow steal this shirt from you,” you explain, snatching the folded gray shirt from him, “Finally!”

“Yeah, all you had to do is fuck me.”

It’s so blunt, it makes your excitement fade quick. When you glance up to meet his eyes, the twinkle makes you draw a conclusion. 

He’s fucking with you, dude. 

“Now it’s mine forever, motherfucker.”

His eyes widen at your response. You never cussed like that in front of him, especially when it came to calling him a name. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute, girl,” He grumbles, watching you drop the blanket from your upper half, exposing your boobs do him. His dick twitches when he sees that he left a lovebite right beside your nipple. 

You were so perfect to him. 

“You’re lucky I’m sore from last night,” You murmur slipping the t-shirt over your head, “Or else I’d… I’d do dirty things to you Joel.”

He creeps forward, his eyes darkening at your suggestion. His eyebrows find their usual spot, the crease in between them growing deeper. You couldn’t help yourself. You were physically incapable of not wanting him. To think you’d spent so long with Tommy, wasting every day trying to manage his chaos, and you were missing out on this. On Joel Miller standing butt naked in his bedroom with a hard on, practically begging you to suck it. 

You were so fucked. 

“How sore?” He tucks your tangled locks behind your ear, his pointer finger finding the curve of your neck, down to your décolletage. Truthfully, you weren’t that sore, just a bit worn out from spending hours crying, only to spend more time having the best sex of your life. 

Your hand finds his, letting his fingers dance around your chest down to the swell of your breast. Just when you’re about to give in, you hear a bang on his door. 

“Dad! Wake up! I want pancakes!”

You practically jump out of your skin, throwing yourself back and away from Joel’s reach. You put your hands over your mouth, trying to disguise the slight gasp that leaves your lips. 

His lips form into a perfectly straight line, “I’ll be out in a second, kid. Can you run next door and ask Jimmy for some eggs?”

“Do I have to?”

“If you want good pancakes, yes!”

The way they talk to each other makes you smile under your hands. You hear Sarah moan in annoyance, before running out the back door and over to the neighbor’s house. Joel rolls his eyes, finding a pair of pants and a t-shirt for himself. You watch him get dressed, still standing like a puppy waiting to be released from their crate. 

“Just go upstairs and mess up the guest bed a bit, then come down and act like you just woke up. We don’t havta tell her bout you and Tommy unless you wanna.”

You contemplate his words for a moment. Maybe telling Sarah her uncle is a sociopathic cheater wasn’t the best way to start her morning. You quickly decide that you’d tell her that you two decided to take a break. 

“I’ll tell her we are taking a break or something and that I was just super upset and came over to clear my head.”

“Great idea,” He mumbles, opening up his bedroom door, “Now get your pretty ass upstairs and stumble down in like 10 minutes acting tired and sad.”

You smack his shoulder as you walk out in front of him, “I am tired and sad, asswipe.”

“All these slanderous nicknames, what happened to my good girl from last night?”

Your core clenches at the words. You knew he was toying with you and you wanted to give in so bad, but you were on a time crunch at this point. Sarah would be coming in at any second. As you try to leave Joel’s reach, you feel his hand on your shoulder. He spins you around to face you, grabbing the nape of your neck. He pulls you up, leaning down to capture your lips into a quick but eager kiss. 

You always felt self conscious about kissing in the morning because Tommy always commented on morning breath and how disgusting it was. You literally wouldn’t kiss him until you brushed your teeth in fear he would find you repulsive. Joel didn’t care though, he wanted your kisses every moment of every day. 

After getting a piece of you last night, he knew he was going to have a hard time resisting the urge to have you in his bed every night. He had a crush on you for so long, pushing aside his feelings, knowing it was so wrong to like his own brother’s girlfriend. But now his brother’s actions were finally coming to light after years of suspicion, and Joel knew this was his chance to treat you the way you deserved to be treated. 

“Git,” He says, pulling away from you, swatting your ass as you walk through his house to the staircase. As soon as you’re halfway up the stairs, you hear Sarah come back into the house. You pause, waiting for them to start talking. 

“Why’s her car up front?”

Joel pauses for a moment. You hear him taking a mug out of his cabinets, “She and Tommy got into it last night. I told her she could crash in the guest room.”

“What about?”

“Adult stuff, don’t worry bout it.”

You roll your eyes, creeping up the stairs and into the guest room. The last time you found yourself in this room, it was to sleep next to Tommy after you two drank too much with Joel and a couple friends. Thinking back to it, you remember that was the same night he told you he really didn’t want kids. You laid in the same god forsaken bed and cried until you fell asleep.

Tommy really didn’t care about you. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise, him cheating on you. You just really didn’t want it to be with your own sister. But truthfully, you’re glad it was a world shattering cheating scandal. It made you never want to see his stupid face again. 

You grab the duvet off the top of the bed and throw it around. You lay in the bed, making the sheets crinkle. You needed to make it look like you actually stayed in this room, just in case Sarah peered in. 

Once satisfied with your work, you stand up and head downstairs. It had only been 5 minutes and you already smell freshly brewed coffee. It makes you smile, ready to share a cup with Joel. 

“Mornin’,” Joel says plainly, glancing up at you from the mixing bowl placed on the island. Sarah is seated at the barstools, watching her dad slave over breakfast.

“Mornin’ Millers,” You say, falsely rubbing your eyes to make it seem like you had just woken up seconds ago. 

“Weird to see you here on a Sunday morning,” Sarah comments, pulling the barstool next to her out. She wanted you to sit next to her and explain what happened, you could see it on her face. She had just turned 14, so she knew it was a curious case when her uncle’s girlfriend was crashing in the room next to hers. “You and Tommy good?”

“No, he uh,” You look up at Joel who’s stopped his stirring. You give him a look like “hey I think I may tell her the truth”, and he nods. Even if it means Sarah would look at Tommy in a different light, she should know her uncle is imperfect and capable of fucking up his life.

“He admitted to cheating on me on our ride home last night. I left him on the side of the road and called your Dad to go get him.”

Saying the story out loud sounds so absurd. It almost didn’t feel real. 

Sarah’s mouth falls open in shock and disbelief. Joel decides it’s his turn to quip up. 

“I told her she could come here and stay until she was ready to face him,” He explains, portioning out pancakes on a buttered pan, “I picked Uncle Tommy up from the side of the road and took him back to their apartment. He will probably be calling here shortly. He needs to come get his truck.”

Sarah had questions, hundreds of them. 

He seriously cheated? With who? Are you going to break up? Am I never going to see you again? How could he do this? 

What catches you and Joel off guard is when she slams her fists on the island. 

“What an asshole!”

Joel’s eyes fly open in shock, but you choke out a laugh at Sarah’s comment. 

“Hey, language,” He looks over at you, his shoulders tense, “And you shouldn’t be laughing.”

“Sorry,” You admit, standing up from the chair to find your way around to the coffee pot. You knew the ins and outs of the kitchen, so you find a coffee mug in the cabinet next to Joel. You start to pour some of the pot into your mug, just as Sarah poses a question.

“Is that my dads shirt?”

You stop your actions like you just got caught in the act. You slowly put the pot back on the heated stand, waiting for Joel to say something. Please save me, you beg silently.

“She needed pajamas last night. She was wearing her outfit from Tommy’s party, not comfy to sleep in.”

Nice save, Joel. 

You nod and try to avoid eye contact for the rest of the time Joel’s making breakfast. While Sarah continues to ask questions, you just shake your head and sip your black coffee. You usually drank it with some creamer and sugar, but you needed the bite of the coffee to bring you to life. Joel cooks pancakes, eggs, and bacon, all things you’d like to eat but after Sarah’s interrogation, you feel sick to your stomach. Joel prepares you and Sarah’s plates, putting them in front of you both. Sarah chows down immediately and you just poke around the plate, pretending you’re eating. Joel notices, watching you closely as he munches on a piece of toast. 

As you finally take a bite, the landline rings behind you on the wall. 

“Probably Tommy,” Joel swallows, heading to the phone to pick it up. He was right, it was Tommy. You hear his whiny voice over the sound of Sarah humming while she eats. He’s upset, telling Joel that he needs to find you to apologize. 

“She’s here,” Joel mutters, disregarding any emotion he may feel, “She came here after last night.”

“Why there?”

Joel rolls his eyes, “Because she didn’t want to go home to your drunk ass.”

“Can you tell her I’m sorry?”

You can feel Joel tense up, finally meeting his eyes as he pulls the phone away from his ear. He looks at you, his eyes asking if you want to say anything over the phone. You don’t even think, you just snatch the phone from his grasp. 

You hear Tommy’s labored breathing over the phone, like he is crying. 

“You wanted to say something to me?”

You voice is even, not showing any emotion that is bubbling in your stomach. 

“Baby,” He stammers, “I’m so sorry.”

“Okay,” You hold your breath, waiting for the right words to say, “I want you out of the house by the end of the day. I’ll get Joel to come get you so you can ge-”

“Baby, please! Please I’m so-”

“I’m not done talking, Tommy.” You pause, inhaling quickly, “We are done, okay? I’ll have Joel come get you in an hour to get your truck that I bought for you, and you will be out of the apartment I pay for, and you will be out of my life. I don’t want apologies. I want you gone.”

You turn to see Sarah and Joel gawking at your immediate and demanding response to Tommy. It wasn’t something you were anticipating to say, but once you started, you couldn’t stop. You didn’t even think through your demands, but you knew you couldn’t stay in the bubble you were in at Joel’s house forever. You paid most the rent at your shared apartment. That truck was something you helped pay for. He needed to be gone in order for you to figure your next steps. Truthfully, after your last conversation with him, you wished you never had to speak to Tommy ever again. 

You knew that the reason he was really sorry was because he got caught and his living situation was up in the air. It had nothing to do with actually feeling bad for ruining your sense of safety and security. Tommy was a lot of things, but you did see a future with him, somehow. 

“I’ll just have Ryan bring me over there. I’m not waiting around for Joel. He seems too busy playing house with you. Stupid bit-”

The line drops and you stand there in shock. You weren’t even upset, you were angry. He was so quick to change his tune when he realized you weren’t going to be manipulated again. It made your whole body go red hot. 

“What did he say?”

Sarah was silent, unsure how to navigate such an awkward moment. You don’t even know what to say, so you just slam the phone onto the machine.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to see him when he gets over here. I may-,” You censor yourself, remembering this is probably a weird situation for Sarah. You can’t say what you really want to say. 

“What did he say?”

“He’s having Ryan bring him over to get his truck.”

“What else?”

Joel knows he had to say something to rile you up, and he knows his sorries were just conditional. You knew that too, but it hurt to hear him so bitter again. You begin to come to the conclusion that the alcohol wasn’t what made Tommy bold last night, that was just him showing his true colors finally.

You just shake your head. Joel dismisses Sarah before she can finish her breakfast, but she knew it was probably in her best interest to hide away in her bedroom anyway. She doesn’t object, just grabs her plate and carries it upstairs. 

Joel leans against the counter, waiting for you to finally speak up. You know what Tommy said is going to send him into a rage, so you bite the side of your cheek.

“’s gonna be here any moment. Do you want me to ask him what he said to you? Or would you rather share with the class?”

Ugh. 

“He said you were playing house with me.”

You don’t tell him the name he called you, it would only make him more angry. Joel brings his mug up to his lips, hissing as he slurps it up. His bows his head, wondering how he’s going to probably make this situation even worse. 

Joel wanted to say fuck it and fight for you, but that’d be selfish. He had been pining for you forever but you on the other hand, didn’t even think he was an option. You had never given a relationship with Joel a thought until last night. Tommy was always your first and final choice. You were fiercely loyal and Joel knew that. So, sure, he wanted you to drop every thought of Tommy and just stay. But he knew you couldn’t. 

You didn’t want to be the reason that Joel didn’t talk to his brother anymore. You don’t want to be the reason Sarah doesn’t have a relationship with her uncle. You felt like your feelings for Joel only complicated things. Of course they did. And what exactly were the feelings? Was it just a rush because it was so new and different? Or did Joel actually make you feel unconditionally appreciated?

You can read Joel’s expression for the first time. He’s pleading with you. 

“Sweethe-”

“I don’t want to be the reason your family falls apart,” You mutter, trying not to cry as you say it. You were surprised you even had any tears left after last night. 

Joel rounds the island, approaching you with every intention to give you a big hug. You stop him though, your hand resting on his broad chest. Your memory serves you right, mapping out the front of his chest with your finger tips, waiting for him to say something else. He doesn’t say anything though, he just roughly grabs your hips, walking you to the corner of the island. 

“Tommy is the reason our family fell apart,” He explains, lifting your butt to the edge of the counter. His hands then rest on your upper thighs, rubbing circles as you lazily wrap your arms around his neck. Your heart was racing, knowing Tommy could walk into Joel’s house like he used to. He’d see you pinned to the counter by Joel and he’d draw all his conclusions. 

“You were the cheater this whole time,” you imagine him saying. 

“He will be here any minute, Joel.” 

You couldn’t have everything blow up in your face all at once. You needed Joel to know that you were thankful for him, but you didn’t need an added stressor to your life right now. 

You look into his desperate eyes, wanting nothing more but to plant another kiss on his downturned lips.

“I am going to change and get out of your hair. I have to,” Your brain starts going a million miles a minute, trying to explain yourself, “I have to call my family. I have to… I have to rebuild my life, Joel. I’m sorry, this,” You gesture to him and yourself, “This complicates a lot. I need.. I just need time.”

He steps back, shaking his head. He knew that’d be your response. It stung, but he had to try to push aside his feelings for you. 

You hear a car door slam out front, making your nerves go into overdrive. 

“I’ll go give him his keys. Let him know you’re not interested in talkin’.”

You just bite your lip, slipping off the counter. 

“Can you tell him to leave his key under the mat when he gets his shit out? He has until tonight.”

Joel starts to bound to the front door, beating Tommy to the knob. 

“Yeah, I’ll let him know,” He turns to you finally, “And you don’t have to change. Keep my shirt. You’ve wanted it for awhile, it’s yours.”

-

2 months later

From: Joel Miller

Sarah has been begging to see you. I’m making lasagna tonight and I remembered it was your favorite. Would you want to come over ? If you’re not busy?

You had ignored most of Joel’s texts since Tommy moved out. You had spent the last 2 months trying to figure out your entire life. It was flipped upside down overnight, so you needed a moment to catch your breath. Joel understood, of course. You’d text him every now and again, just to let him know you were doing okay. 

You sit at your desk at work, glancing at your calendar pinned to your bulletin board. 

Of course you didn’t have plans for a random Wednesday night. Tomorrow you had Thristy Thursday with some coworkers. But tonight was going to be the night you lit up one of your last couple joints on your balcony and smoked until your eyelids got heavy. Maybe you would call your mom and ask her if she’d heard from your sister. 

Your mom had heard what happened two days after everything went down, and was totally on your side, which was nice. She couldn’t believe your sister had the audacity to do such a thing. You’d vent to her for hours, eventually crying and wishing she wasn’t across the country to give you a hug. After your parents divorced a couple years ago, your mother decided she needed to live her life far away from your dad, so she moved to Maine. Random, but you respected her for getting away and living her life on her terms. She told you that you should do the same. You laughed between tears, telling her maybe you would.

After your sister was confronted with the fact that you knew all about her and Tommy, she cried and begged for forgiveness. You decided to spare her your true feelings, opting to just tell her to stay out of your life for awhile. You’d ignored her calls and texts after that. It was your father who called you a couple days later to tell you that she had checked herself into rehab for abusing alcohol and pills. 

As sick as it was, your mind went straight to karma. It was bittersweet. You told your father to let her know you were thinking about her and hope she got better. Your dad said she was going to move to Dallas with him once she got out of treatment. It wasn’t far enough away from you, but it would do.

You stare back down at your phone, reading Joel’s text several more times.

Just you and Sarah? You type.

It was a dumb question to ask, but you had to be sure Tommy wasn’t just hanging around his house like he used to. You’re almost positive Joel would’ve told Tommy to stop coming around, but you can never be too safe.

He responded quickly. 

From: Joel Miller

Just us. She wanted to show you her new CD player too. 

You can’t say no, especially now that it’s not just Joel you’re neglecting. You had been around Sarah most of her life and she always loved having you around. You were almost like a big sister she never had. She always begged you to come to her soccer games, her chorus concerts, and birthday parties. You never missed one. 

She always gave you insight on the newest trends and she was quick with her humor, which always had you laughing until your stomach hurt. If you were going to go to the Miller household, it would be to hear all of Sarah’s life updates.

And maybe to see Joel. His presence would not be lost on you. 

You hover over your keyboard, overthinking your response. 

Okay, yeah. I can be over around 6? 

You glance back up at your computer screen, seeing that it was already 3. You’d be out of work in an hour, then you’d have to see Joel.

You hadn’t seen him since you left his house with your pile of clothes, sporting his old t-shirt and sweatpants, completely dazed and confused at the curveball that life threw you.

You did wear that shirt he gave you almost every night. 

Your phone dings. 

From: Joel Miller

Sounds good. I’ll let Sarah know, she will be excited.

You shake away all your doubt and take a couple deep breaths, getting back to some emails before you’d go home and get ready to face your past. 

–

“You came!”

Sarah opens the door to see you practically shaking in your new heeled boots. She reaches out and grabs you, giving you the tightest hug.

“Hey, kiddo,” You grin, returning the squeeze, “Your dad promised me lasagna and you, so of course I had to come.”

She giggles, pulling you out of the chilly air. The Miller house has this distinct warmth that always comforts the deepest parts of your soul. Even when you and Tommy were together, your favorite place to hangout was Joel’s back deck and living room. 

You haven’t ever felt so nervous to see Joel. You round the corner to the kitchen, only to see him slaving over the oven. He looks relaxed. His hair is a bit more shaggy than usual. He’s surprisingly not in any work gear, wearing a blue t-shirt and khakis, with no stains. He put on his best outfit, just for you. 

When your eyes lock, you just try your best to give him your best cheesy smile. You had no idea what to say to the man. Hey, I miss you a lot. I find myself comparing every dick I have had in the last two months to yours. 

That would land well.

“Hey there stranger,” You opt to say instead.

He drops the knife he’s using to butter some bread. He’s reaching out towards you, grappling at your waist and the bottle of red in your hand. 

“Hey, I’ve-… I mean we’ve missed ya,” He gives you a half hug, putting the wine down on the counter. You feel weird touching him like this. Especially in front of Sarah. He smells like you remember. Sweet strawberry shampoo and whatever laundry softener he puts on his clothes. His large hand pulls away from your waist and you instantly miss it. 

“I’ve missed y’all, too. Anything I can do to help?” You gesture towards the spread he has laid out. It’s mainly just fresh garlic diced up and some Italian bread cut up into slices. 

“Why don’t ya open that bottle? Wine glasses ar-“

“Above the dishwasher, I know.”

—

Dinner was intertwined with Sarah telling stories about her first weeks of school and you devouring your weight in lasagna. Joel just nodded along, piping in to say something sarcastic to Sarah or smile at your sauce stained lips. You sip on wine, progressively getting more and more relaxed due to the alcohol flowing through your veins. 

It was like old times. Except you didn’t have Tommy interjecting to shoot down your ideas or him and Joel getting into a small tiff about something that happened 10 years ago. It was nice. After dinner, when Joel was starting on dishes, Sarah brought you up to her room to show you some new stuff she bought. She played you a Britney Spears CD on her new stereo, telling you about how many discs it actually held. She even confided in you that she had a crush on a boy in her math class. 

“You better not tell your Dad. He will have a cow.”

You feel a presence behind you occupy the door. You turn quickly, seeing Joel leaning against the door frame. 

“Have a cow about what?” He grumbles, crossing his arms at you two. You smirk, shaking your head. 

“Nothing, Dad,” Sarah utters quickly. 

“Yeah, Dad, it’s none of your business.”

He rolls his eyes at your sarcasm. 

He only came up here to grab you for some alone adult talk, and here you are gossiping with his daughter and harboring secrets. Deep down, he loved it. He appreciated that Sarah felt safe enough to come to you and talk to you about things. You were always a great role model for her. 

“Okay, fine,” He raises his hands in defeat, “Sarah, you gotta get up for school tomorrow. Start gettin’ ready for bed.”

“Bu-”

“No buts. You’re not goin’ in late tomorrow. Shower and bed.”

She stomps her foot, annoyed with him and his demands. You just giggle, grabbing her arms and bringing her into a hug. 

“I promise I’ll be around more. You call me any time, okay? I love hearing from you.”

She crushes you with her little bony arms, “Don’t be a stranger.”

You pull away, gesturing Joel to scoot out of the door frame so you could head downstairs. He follows close behind, his foot fall in sync with yours. 

“You wanna stay for another glass? Stil half the bottle left.”

You bite your lip. You shouldn’t, but you want to talk to him without a child present. So you nod eagerly, heading straight to the bottle once you reach the downstairs. You pour yourself some into your stained glasses, giving him the last splash. 

“Wanna hang outside? May be more private.”

He wanted privacy because he wanted to pick your mind. He also wanted updates on your family. How everything went down with your sister. Your parent’s opinions on the situation. One thing about Joel was that he wanted to hear your buttery voice talk about anything and everything. 

You two walk out the sliding glass door, finding spots on the outdoor couch Joel had for most of Sarah’s life. It was falling apart and water damaged, but it was where you and him had spent long nights having conversations when Tommy was drunk and asleep on the couch inside. 

“You uh, talk to your sister?” He asks, settling into the couch, keeping an appropriate distance from you. 

You breath out loudly, “Yeah, she’s in rehab.”

“Holy shit, cause of what happened?”

You take a sip of wine before you answer, “No, she was on some heavy shit, I guess. Maybe that’s what gave her the audacity to fuck Tommy.”

“Yeah maybe. You talk to him at all?”

“He left me a drunken voicemail a couple weeks ago. Other than that, no.”

You had woken up in the dead of night to get water and saw you had a message on your home phone voicemail. You pressed the button, letting his wasted voice slur your name. He was begging to come back. Said he made a mistake. He would never do it again, yada yada. 

“He’s already bringin’ another girl around my parents. Some chick from that bar he’s always at with his buddies,” Joel confesses, “My ma is confused.”

Your stomach flips a bit. You were curious how Tommy was doing, but not out of desperation or anything. You just wanted to know if he would survive on his own. 

“I knew he’d be quick. How does your mom feel about it all?”

“Disappointed but she enables his shit.”

Joel takes a sip of his wine, licking his lips after he swallows. You watch him closely, trying to not make it obvious that you missed the way his tongue traced yours that night. 

“Yeah that’s fair. He’s her baby.”

He nods, letting the silence fill the air. He doesn’t want to ask about your dating life, but the question was festering in his mind. He couldn’t help himself. 

“Have you been seeing anyone?”

“Not really.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I’ve slept with other guys but no one to really ride home about. They weren’t-“

He cuts you off quickly, “Tommy?”

“No,” You contemplate for a moment, gripping the stem of your wine glass tighter. You know if you weren’t drinking, you would never let the next word slip your lips. But it does. 

“You.”

You weren’t planning on confessing that to anyone, especially Joel himself. But the tension was rising in your chest and he’s sitting here, under the moonlight, giving you those damn puppy eyes. 

He raises his eyebrows, not expecting you to say something so upfront and honest. The relief that floods him was satisfying, though. He hadn’t even thought about another woman since you. 

You mainly had random hookups to try to fill the void you felt due to not having someone around all the time. You weren’t ever fully into them, but you needed to feel something. That something was never itching that itch you had, though. The closeness you craved wasn’t strictly sexual.

“Yeah,” He mumbles, looking down at his socks, “I can’t uh… I can’t stop thinkin’ about you.”

It makes your heart grow 7 sizes to hear him say that. The guilt you anticipated feeling about sleeping with Joel never came. You instead missed him more than any other part of your 7 year relationship with his brother. 

“The feeling is mutual.”

The moment is shattered when you hear a pounding on the glass door. Sarah stands there in his pajamas, her toothbrush in her hand.

Joel signals her to open the door, which she does a bit too hard. The door shudders loudly as Sarah jumps over the threshold.

“Jesus kid,” Joel groans, setting his empty glass down on a table nearby, “What is it?”

“We should invite her to my soccer tournament this weekend!”

“Soccer tournament?”

Joel huffs, “She has a big tournament this weekend in Houston.”

“You should come!”

You shoot a look at Joel, “I mean, I am free. But is that okay with you? Are you guys staying somewhere?”

“Yeah, the Marriot downtown. Her whole team is stayin’ there. We have two beds in the room, so you could squeeze. Only if you want to.”

He was praying you’d say yes. 

“That’d be fun,” You drink the last drop of your wine, “Count me in.”

You want to think you’re doing it for Sarah, but truthfully, you were itching to get more time with Joel. You were almost positive you made plans with a guy from work this weekend, but you could care less about cancelling something if it meant you could get to stay in a fancy hotel with Joel and support Sarah from the sidelines. 

Sarah squeals in excitement, running outside barefoot to throw her arms around you. 

“I promise we will win!”

It sends you into a fit of giggles. 

“I’m sure you will, kiddo. Now get inside, your feet will get all gross without shoes on.”

Joel quips up, “Brush your teeth, then bed. ‘Ya hear me?”

She straightens up, saluting him like a solider dramatically, “Sir, yes, sir.”

You both watch her prance inside, giddy that you’d be around to watch her on the field. You can’t help but feel loved by the girl. She really made you feel important. 

Joel clears his throat, “You can say no to her, yanno?”

“No, I really can’t,” You scoot to the corner of the couch, pushing yourself off of it, “I should get going.”

“Yeah, I got a big day tomorrow,” Joel lies. He didn’t have a big day, he would literally be sitting in his truck thinking of you while his work crews do all the heavy lifting. He stands up to walk you out, wracking his brain if he should… hug you? Kiss you?

“Thank you for inviting me to dinner tonight. I guess I’ll see you guys this weekend? Will I just meet you here Friday evening so we can head out?”

“Yeah, planning on leaving around 5:30,” Joel explains, getting the sliding glass door for you, “We can just come by and get you.”

“Yeah don’t want Tommy to drive by and see my car in your driveway, right?”

“I could care less what Tommy’s thinks.”

part 3 coming soon

[some-bunniii]

— self indulgence time, say howdy to my hellaverse oc! [+ a fic]

Kokabiel, one of Hell’s original celebrities and fashion icons [art by mamma_hisa]

I have a 6k word fic that’s been sitting in my drafts for awhile, and i worked long enough on it so i think it deserves some sunlight

i wrote the first chapter to a lucifer x oc story in an AU where Lilith leaves when Charlie is a baby and Kokabiel accidentally becomes her maternal figure, and it was going to be long but then I never touched it again ☠️ she was made originally made for the fic but she’s so gorgeous and mommy i spent days fleshing her out as my main bbyg.

working on a few things so take this for now to get a taste of her and some morningstar love! no romance, just introductions.

“Charlie, please go to sleep” The pearlescent figure next to the small bed begged the toddler, who was trying to scramble out of his grip and away from the covers that were wrapped around her waist.

The man’s platinum-blonde hair was disheveled, dark bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep that was quite evident on his features as he tiredly pulled the girl back onto the bed, holding her still as she whined against his hands. 

His mouth opened in a wide yawn, his shark-like teeth glinting in the soft light that emanated from the bedside lamp next to him. He blinked slowly, trying to rid himself of the exhaustion that was trying to overtake him, his eyelids beginning to droop even as he continued to wrestle his daughter. 

Charlie shot her father a nasty glare, brows furrowed as she frowned deeply. The bright red spots that graced the chub of her cheeks lowered as her lips curled downward. They were one of the many features she shared with the pale man before her, including those soft, sun-kissed locks and snow-bathed skin. 

She also shared the same tired eyes that met hers sternly, but her mind was too active to allow her body those much-needed hours of rest. 

The rest her father, Lucifer Morningstar, also needed.

“I know you’re sleepy, sweetheart! Just lay still so daddy can get some shut-eye too, hm?”

“No!” Charlie whined, lips puckered in distraught as her strength began to wane. Why would she sleep when she could be playing with her stuffed goats instead?! It just wasn’t fair!

“Yes!” Lucifer commanded, before he growled softly and lifted a finger towards the small child, a glint of golden light lit on the tip of his claw as he pressed it softly against Charlie’s forehead. 

For a moment it flickered against her pale skin, and Lucifer removed his finger as Charlie froze at the sudden tingling sensation.

Her mouth was in the shape of a small o as she tried to get a look at whatever her father had placed on her, but the only clue in her vision was the twinkle of aurum light. A warmth began to seep into her skin, emanating from the magic blooming across her face.

Like a firework launching into the night sky, the tiny orb shot from her forehead up towards the ceiling, before it burst into a flurry of sparks that glimmered in the darkness, casting the walls with their vibrant hues.

The golden light danced above Charlie’s head, her eyes wide and in awe as the golden sparks began to melt into rippling waves that spiraled across the ceiling.

Lucifer flicked off the bedside light, the room darkening slightly as the magic above basked the room in a subtle warm glow as it pulsed rhythmically.

He still sat beside the bed, hand resting limply against Charlie’s chest as the interest in her eyes soon turned to sleepiness, and her eyelids began to droop.

Lucifer watched with a small smile as a magical display began to lull Charlie into sleep, and it only took a few more minutes before her face relaxed into a peaceful expression and her breathing swallowed.

Roughling rubbing a hand down his face with a sigh, Lucifer stood from the floor. His fuzzy pink robe drooped from his shoulders just enough to expose his bare, finely chiseled chest.

Quietly, he tip-toed across the bedroom, stepping over dolls, stuffed animals, and other trinkets that littered the floor. As long as he was careful, he wouldn’t risk waking the child.

Lucifer’s fingers wrapped around the door handle, before he waved his hand in the air, and the golden light dispersed, showering the room in shadows once more.

Cracking open the door just a tad, he slipped into the hallway. Lucifer’s back hit the door’s solid, oak frame as he exhaled a sigh of relief. The fallen angel felt like he could slide down onto the plush red carpet and hibernate right there, but he was the King of Hell, he had too much self-respect for that.

Raking a hand through his disheveled hair, Lucifer began to drag his feet down the hall, fatigue gnawing at his mind as he passed by the large paintings that hung upon the dark red walls, a perfect backdrop to the fair-skinned figures that posed elegantly inside the gold-framed portraits.

A man, his apple-red cheeks practically brushing against the edges of his face as he smiled brightly. A woman stood tall beside him, a dark purple dress hugging her curved figure as she posed regally. Her fingers entwined with her counterpart, their intimacy evident.

Lucifer would take that down, eventually. It only ever reminded him of painful memories, of that violet, sultry gaze through which she would send him as they basked in the warmth of the large fireplace in the large lounge in their castle. 

Wine glasses emptied again and again as the King listened to her gentle humming, her fingers laced with his as she pulled him closer. Her lips left wet, sloppy kisses against his chin. The faint trail of black lipstick as her mouth connected with his in a passionate embrace of body and soul, intertwined.

Lilith, the previous Queen of Hell. Lucifer’s ex-wife, Charlie’s mother.

How long had she been gone now? Lucifer knew the exact day, he practically memorized the minute and hour when she left. When Lilith had sent him one last look from the open front door, her gaze unreadable through the black shades on her face, her honey-colored hair flowing like water around her figure as the two lovers locked eyes for the final time.

“Goodbye, Lou,” Lilith had whispered, her voice like silk against his ears even in such an anguished moment. Strands of hair covered her features as she spoke, shielding her expression as she turned her head, her back facing the fallen angel as she stepped through the threshold. 

Out of his home, out of his world. 

And, Charlie’s too. It’s hard explaining to a child that their mommy went on a very, very long vacation. He’d have the courage to tell her… eventually. Except, that meant she might one day blame him, too.

What could Lilith have been feeling, happiness, sorrow, anger? Lucifer would never know, he had tried so desperately to even understand why she had left in the first place. Had there been signs? An argument of some kind he had forgotten? What had he done wrong, that his first love and the mother of his child, would leave him to care for Charlie and the realm, all alone?

It was Lilith who held most of the influence when it came to the lower-classed demons, her words and songs enlightening the residents of Hell, cultivating the realm like a garden as she watered the needy and uprooted those with dark intentions like invasive weeds.

To the people of Hell, Lucifer was the epitome of complete, ultimate power. The embodiment of pride, and the reminder of who would always have control. 

He was rarely seen in public, especially in his own Ring, full of the very demons he despised the most. Sure, he had his covers on magazines and face plastered all over LuLu World, but that was where it ended.

Instead, the King kept his duties strictly to those most loyal and most powerful. The rest of the Deadly Sins, the Ars Goetia family, and once in a while joining on an overlord meeting. 

As long as they understood who not to cross, the safety and security of his family would never be at risk, if one could even try and pose any threat to one of the first creations. The Morningstar that shone before Lilith, before Earth, before everything.

In all honesty, Lucifer didn’t really do… anything, when it came to his subjects. 

It was Lilith whose appearance was imprinted into the minds of her subjects through her many concerts and powerful political influence. It was she who had given them the confidence to defy Heaven, to stand against their exterminations that plagued the Pride Ring once a year.

Now, Lucifer was left to hold up face, to keep the realm from divulging into chaos, as the stability of the hierarchy of Hell slipped slowly and slowly through his fingers. No matter how many demons he could smite with the snap of his fingers, the sinful on Earth would always be sent to him as punishment, for the both of them. 

He needed to keep them all in line, as respectfully as possible.

Which meant Lucifer was alone to take care of Charlie, who was insanely active and needy for attention, like any demon her age. She couldn’t stay out of trouble, and Lucifer had to juggle her, his own volatile emotions that had been causing him to skip more and more meals, and the piling events that always filled his days this time of the year. 

The annual gatherings with the Ars Goetia that he had to attend symbiotically to keep their unwavering loyalty, the meetings to make sure the rest of the Sins were keeping their rings afloat, and flaunting a little bit of his power to the Overlords in Pentagram City that liked to stir trouble in his own ring.

Hell needed a future so that his daughter would have something to rule over when she came of age and wisdom. No matter how he tried to push the thoughts of his little girl growing up and leaving him, sooner or later, the fledgling would have to leave the nest.

Lucifer could see it, clear as day, his spirit and creative spark deep in her gaze when she listened to his many ideas and visions of what could have been and what surely will be. The way she giggled quietly as he presented her toys of his creation, her soft gaze looking at each little trinket with adoration and inspiration.

If she was anything like the man Lucifer used to be, that meant she would no doubt rebel against his views of Hell and his subjects, and that scared the King. 

Lucifer continued to pass more portraits, dimly lit by the warm glow of the wall lamps dotting the hallway. Pictures of his daughter, the other Sins, and the grand opening of LuLu World. The final portrait next to his bedroom door was a small painting, an almost-perfect recreation of the only Heavenly creation he still held close to his heart. 

The Morning Star.

The large ball of bright, white light illuminated against the oily-black backdrop that was also speckled with smaller, glittering stars. Some shone in vibrant, multi-colored hues that lit the painted night sky with a soft celestial light.

Except, none of those stars shone as bright as his star, the star specifically created for him by a face whose familiarity had been long lost in time. A face that still gnawed at the edge of his mind every time he stared at that painting, those long-buried memories slowly crawling from the depths of his soul.

Maybe, one day, he’d have the strength to remember.

When the door to his room was pushed open softly, Lucifer’s eyes hit the digital clock on his nightstand. It was one in the afternoon, and Charlie would only nap for a few hours before she awakened with renewed energy. 

The toddler has grown restless lately, anxious to see a new face, to take a peek outside of the confines of their large home. No matter how many magical displays Lucifer presented the child, she always grew bored, and that frown was becoming more permanent on her lips as the days passed.

It must be tiring waking up and practically seeing your reflection almost every minute of your day.

There was no one Lucifer could trust in the presence of his daughter, though. No one he could see fit enough to care for her, not even himself. He struggled, being a father, for his little apple pie.

Parenting was not easy, especially when you had no idea what you were doing. It was especially hard when you were too afraid to upset your daughter with stern words and an authoritative voice, which meant the toddler ran the house.

The most powerful being in Hell would have to put his foot down to his little girl… eventually. After this quick nap, maybe. 

The large bed, much too big for only one person, beckoned Lucifer with an irresistible invitation. His legs moved with renewed strength before he fell face flat into the soft, cool duvet that welcomed him kindly. His muscles relaxed instantly, his feet dangling limply from the end of the bed as he finally opened his mind to the idea of sleep.

Slowly, Lucifer’s consciousness began to ebb, and his snores echoed around the room as his mind stilled into blackness.

What he wasn’t aware of, as the fallen angel sunk deeper into the plush, red blankets, was that the small bed on the opposite side of the hall was empty. Its previous inhabitant was currently tottling towards the door to his workshop that had been slightly ajar just across from her bedroom.

With wide eyes, Charlie scanned the room as she poked her head through the crack in the doorway, her little button nose twitching as she drank in all the little knick-knacks and prototypes of fantastical ideas that would never see the light of day.

It was dimly lit, save for the faint red glow pouring in from the large circular window above the desk across the room. There was nothing of interest on its smooth, wooden surface to the tiny awe-struck eyes. Instead, it was the soft, chromatic light that caught her gaze on a low shelf right next door. 

Floating elegantly above a short, circular pedestal were seven glowing rings, stacked above each other a few inches apart with zero gravity. Each held a unique hue, from green to pink, as they lured Charlie with their ethereal glow. If she could lift her little body just slightly onto the chair against the desk, she could reach them. 

What could they be, so pretty just floating like that? They looked just like glow-stick necklaces! Would Daddy think she was pretty if she put them on and showed him?

With a large smile and slightly unsteady steps, Charlie crossed the room, her tiny feet pitter-pattering against the soft carpet as she beelined for the colorful display. When she reached the wooden chair, her chin barely grazed against the cushioned seating as she placed her palms gingerly against its plush surface.

With a mighty heave and a sharp inhale of breath, the toddler began kicking her legs wildly as she tried gaining momentum to hoist herself onto the chair. 

Charlie sputtered for breath as her grip loosened due to her sweaty palms, but then her leg hooked onto the seat railing, which gave her momentarily support to pull herself farther up until her knee grazed the top of the cushion. 

Placing one arm underneath her for support, the toddler reached the other out towards the ring. Her fingers splayed out, the whites of her eyes glowing red as they reflected the ring’s vibrant hue. 

Charlie held her breath, beginning to tip over just as her index finger grazed the very edge of the ring’s surface. Red energy shot down her spine, sending her hair to stick out with static 

The girl barely got a squeak in before she vanished in a burst of lightning that barely resonated a sound as it zapped her away. 

The red ring flickered once, faltering above the rest for only a moment, before it stilled into place.

And the room was empty once more.

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀🤍🤍🤍

On the outskirts of the Pride Ring was a small, white villa nestled against a rocky cliff face, surrounded by tall, black fencing that ended in sharp, spiked ends. Purple magic sizzled off of the tips, a clear warning to anyone who wanted to enter: They would not be welcome.

Inside the powerful barrier, was a large garden filled with a surreal combination of beauty and decay. Vibrant flowers bloomed amidst twisted, blackened trees that seemed to reach out with gnarled branches like skeletal fingers. 

The floral scent that wafted from the blossoms permeated the air, mixed with the slight tinge of sulfur of Hell’s odor.  

Nestled among the dark purple bushes and other hellish flora, were tall snow-white sculptures of men and women, their stone eyes staring lifelessly across the garden’s expanse. 

A diverse cast of figures, short and brawny, too tall and lanky. Each unique from the rest.

Except, for their facial expressions, in which they each held a similar look of terror. As if they had been frozen in place during a time of anguish, of a terrifying encounter that left them to rot inside their pretty stone casks. 

They were positioned across the lawn in a perfect, meticulous manner. As if someone spent day in and day out holed up inside the black fencing, with nothing to do but continuously cultivate their blooming garden. 

One particular statue, which held the image of a goat-like man, staring up at the sky as if in one final prayer, was currently being inspected by a gracefully poised woman standing before it. Painted on his frozen cheek, was a small black lipstick-stained kiss.

From a distance, you’d think she was human. The silky, black dress that hugged her curves was reminiscent of ancient Greek fashion. Her shoulders were fully exposed, garment held up by a high neckline that tickled at her throat as she leisured, a glass of alcohol in her hand.

Her rich, deep brown skin stood out among the pearlescent, marble statues. Practically shimmering against the red hues that basked her home with the midday light. 

An ethereal radiance seemed to seep from her skin, giving her silhouette a faint, golden glow that made her skin shimmer like light on morning dew.

Her hairstyle was similar to a ponytail, a partial updo that sat at the top of her head like a bun, before the long, white locs cascaded down her back.Along with two large strands that framed the sides of her angled face.

The big differential between her and a woman strolling down the street? The horns that graced the top of her head. They curved to end just above her forehead, a black crown that cemented her place as another resident of Hell.

Travel a bit farther down her figure, and you’d find those large, white tendrils of hair that swished as she turned slightly had a funny texture to them that most would mistake for thick braids. 

Except, braids aren’t made of scales, are they? 

At her ankles, a multitude of snakeheads stuck out their tongues, tasting the air as their beady red eyes scanned across the grassy scape. 

They twisted around each other, curling into themselves to keep a tighter form as they wriggled against the woman’s back, interest peaked at their surroundings as their tongues flicked in and out.

Once in a while, a head would spot some small, hellish critter skittering across the yard looking for food. And, before one could blink, its jaws would open wide as it shot forward, pulling slightly at the woman’s scalp as it clamped its maw around the tiny creature.

It would slink back near her ankles, trying to gulp down the tasty delicacy as the other snakes around it poked and prodded for a taste. They hissed and snapped at one another, fighting for a morsel.

The woman turned her head, shooting the reptilian mass a glare as they wrapped around her legs. Milky white pools met multiple red, glowing eyes as they slunk back slightly at her scolding, giving time for the one snake to finish gobbling up his snack without fuss.

The two smaller serpents that framed her face weren’t as long as the rest of their siblings, instead reaching to her breasts as they lazily rested on the fabric of her dress. 

Tenderly, the woman lifted an arm, and her shorter serpent curled delicately around her hand, until its head rested gingerly on her palm. 

Gently, she brushed a thumb along its snout, and it hissed softly with pleasure, its eyes closing shut as it nestled farther into her warm skin.

“Jameson, another margarita, please.”

“Yes, Lady Kokabiel,” a small imp butler bowed, his cropped, curly white hair bouncing slightly as he lowered his head. 

Turning, the imp trotted towards a shaded area underneath a weeping willow tree, its low-hanging branches that grazed against his shoulders were dark red, shielding the large mixture of alcohol from the heat of the day as he poured another glass of the blue liquid.

When Jameson returned, Kokabiel handed him the empty glass before plucking the margarita from his grasp. She sent him an appreciative smile, her white freckles sparkling like starlight as they curved with her lips.

She swirled the alcohol in the glass, watching the small vortex for a few moments, before lifting it to her lips and taking a sip. 

That’s how Kokabiel spent most of her days in Hell, nowadays. Getting a buzz off of fruity liquor and fawning over her snakes, as she lounged in her garden with no one to bother her. 

It had been a long time since she left the spotlight, previously a fashion and sex icon, Kokabiel had flaunted her good looks and curves to promote all kinds of products and events, dominating the biggest runways. She even starred in a couple of A-list movies, growing her until she reached the peak of stardom.

Kokabiel had earned her place at the top of the pyramid, right next to many older, successful celebrities in the industry. Lilith was a big name, even bigger than Koko’s with how beautiful of a singer she was, pulling in fans like a siren with her honeyed voice. 

Even with such cutthroat competition, Kokabiel never felt that she was fading out of the audience’s vision with how fast her mailbox would fill with writings from her fans

Fanart, declarations of love written in sparkly pink ink, and invitations to large parties and prestigious events. Even now, she still received fan mail here or there, although they were usually left unanswered. 

She had never wanted to retire in the first place, her plans for the future only confining to grow bigger by the day. Until one night, during a party hosted by the overlords of the city, was Kokabiel confronted with an ultimatum. 

“I know your secret,” he had smiled devilishly. That flat-faced, know-it-all smirk the man sent her one evening, as he confronted her in the darkness of a hallway. 

“What secret?” Kokabiel laughed dryly, shooting him a question glare. 

“Oh, you know,” his pixelated eyes lifted to the darkened sky through the ceiling-high windows nearby, Heaven’s white glow cascading through the panes, “The one about where you really came from, not the Lust Ring lie you like to spin to the audience.” 

The alcoholic buzz in Kokabiel’s system faded in an instant, and her snakes coiled against her back, hissing loudly as she shot him a deathly glare. It had seemed he had chosen to give the news from a safe distance, too far for her snakes to reach. A smart man. 

How did he find out, and what did he plan to do with that information?

That smile of his had only widened further, giddy at the fact he had her in his grasp. He could pull the strings, keep her away from his industry. This secret, that he had only stumbled upon accidently, was going to make sure she stayed gone.

Kokabiel had never caused trouble, never flaunted her power to rise up Hell’s hierarchy, never made any public displays of how easily she could rip demon’s souls out of their bodies if they got too close. 

Nor did any demon claim to be owned by her, as they were too busy being decorative pieces to tell their tale. 

Kokabiel’s presence was a mystery to her powerful counterparts. Her aura was too clean, too ethereal to be a sinner or an average hellborn. But, she had never actually said the words ‘Yes, I’m from Heaven.’ 

She didn’t need to, anymore. After that little conversation, the talking TV had made a deal. Keep that pretty face away from the cameras, and his lips were sealed for eternity. 

Kokabiel had announced her retirement a day later, not answering a single question about why or where she was going. Those cameras and microphones that had gotten shoved in her face received no words as received hurried into her limo. 

How could Kokabiel, someone whose face was once plastered onto entire sides of buildings, fall so hard because of some up-and-coming overlord with the intent to control the masses? She’d had bigger spats with the paparazzi on the side of the street than this!

Now, she didn’t have to worry about those annoying flies anymore, with their constant flashes that always anguished her snakes and the peppering of questions.

Finally away from any prying eyes and those awful, bright flashes that plagued every step Kokabiel took out in public. Here, she could do and say anything, without someone waiting to jump at the opportunity to sell a shitty, non-contextual picture to the highest tabloid bidder.

Solitude gets boring, though. Even with her snakes to crawl over and her garden to tend, one could only vent to the marble figures for so long before they felt their sanity slipping.

That was until an imp had squeezed his way through the thick pickets of her fence, those short white curls singed at the tips from the magic that stung him. 

Whatever was chasing the small man was more dangerous as he continued to beeline toward the bushes that could shelter him.

The imp had turned his head, catching the sight of his pursuers as they reached the fence. Three burly, tall shark demons roared as his tiny frame sped off.

That only led him to meet horns first into the stomach of the owner of the fence, and the land he was currently trespassing on. With an oomph he landed on hit, gaze darting at the being standing above him.

Kokabiel had quirked a brow, unamused as she wiped the dirt from the front of her dress. It wasn’t until one shark demon rammed into the fence, did she lifted her head and a dark frown played on her lips. 

He had seen it, the power behind her gaze, when the loan sharks blew up one of her favorite rose bushes as they broke through the gates.

“How dare you,” she had hissed, her white gaze boring into the thugs, glowing with a much fiercer intensity as she bared her teeth, “Get out!” 

The imp had flinched, but Kokabiel’s anger was not directed at him as she stepped right above his quivering body, and he could feel the soft grazing of scales against his raised arms before he turned to watch the woman continue to meet the loan sharks halfway.

“Not without our little friend there,” one sneered, his teeth glinting as he gave the woman a silent warning of his strength.

“Unfortunate that you aren’t the one making the demands,” she retorted, putting herself between the sharks and their prey. 

With a loud, collective hiss, the bodies of her snakes lifted, encircling her head, and they opened their maws with extended fangs, displaying their own grim warning with bright red eyes.

The aggressor didn’t like that so much, as he opened he pulled out a large, glowing steel-laced ax and charged right for the duo. The imp squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the killing blow. 

The Kokabiel’s pupils shifted from that starlit glint into black pools of emptiness, and the air sizzled with a powerful energy right as the shark-faced man swung his weapon to connect with her shoulder. At the last moment, the fallen angel ducked and backpedaled, right as one of her snakes lashed forward, jaw wide to reveal twin, deadly fangs and struck the demon right in the eye. 

The scales of her snakes pulsed with a golden shimmer, and the demon’s mouth opened in a painful scream as his feet took on an ivory color, hardening to stone. 

The other sharks near him tensed, the rage on their faces instantly draining as their comrade's feet cemented to the ground, that stone plague creeping farther up his waist as he writhed in place, clutching his eye as black blood seeped from the large gash. 

They took a step back, then another, and another as the only blubber left on the struggling man was his large head. His teeth gnashed in mixture of anger and pain, but his good eye only showed fear, right as it was glazed over by white stone.

After that, the rest of the loan sharks had fled, huffing and puffing as they tumbled through the broken fence. 

Then, the snake that had bit the demon began to convulse, writhing with an open maw like it had something stuck in its throat as black blood from its victim landed on the grass below.

Like some hellish form of mitosis, the scales of the serpent began to stretch and split, revealing a mirrored version of the reptile that began to take form and separate from its twin. 

With wide eyes, the imp watched the two snakes finally , this new, fresh face shaking its head in confusion, before the rest of the scaly follicles began to surround and inspect their new friend with flicking tongues.

Kokabiel only watched the demons scurry off, before she sighed and adjusted her dress. Pivoting, she turned to face the imp, her arms crossed as she regarded him curiously. 

The scrawny demon gulped as he stared wide-eyed. Was he next?

“What’s your name?”

“W-what?” The imp replied hoarsely.

“Your name. You have one, don’t you?”

“it’s… Jameson, madam,” 

“Thank you, and I assume they’ll kill you if you try and go back into the city?”

Jameson nodded slowly, rising tentatively from the ground to look up at the woman. 

“Well, it seems you are out of options, Jameson,” Kokabeil had quirked a brow, a small smile on her lips, “but, it appears I’m in need of a butler. What do you say to free room and board in exchange for your services? I’ll let you keep your soul, I promise.” 

He had looked at her, suspicion in his gaze as his eyes darted to the snakes that coiled around her, shooting him hungry glares. How could someone with power like that be so… nice? If it were any overlord back in the city, they’d have taken his soul and his free will.

But, the offer didn’t sound too bad, and she didn’t look crazy. Just… lonely. Maybe, staying here would be so bad.

That’s how Jameson had begun working for the retired celebrity he now called master. Weirdly, he didn’t do many things a butler would do.

Sure, he cleaned and was at her beck and call most of the time, but Kokabiel did most of the things on her own. She cooked, tended to her garden which was slowly growing by the day, and kept up on the juicy rumors that circled the city. 

Usually, Jameson spent the day as entertainment for her. As an ex-clown in the circus, Jameson had a few tricks up his sleeve he’d showcase for the fallen angel, and she seemed to eat it up with amusement.

Kokabiel’s thoughts towards him? He wasn’t exactly sure. Obviously, she was much kinder to him than anyone else he’d worked for, but her zipped lips on anything related to her past or what kind of demon she was made him unsure.

There were times she got… sad. That was the best way to put it. Jameson never saw her cry or have a tantrum, but sometimes she’d get so sullen even her snakes seemed rather depressed.

And, once a year there was a day that Kokabiel would lock herself away in her room, and would not call for him at all the entire day. Not even for food to feed her snakes. What could make her so depressed for that one day? A lost loved one? Her death day, perhaps? 

She rarely mentioned her influential era as one of the largest fashion icons and models Hell had seen, although she didn’t need to with her collection of the seductive, sultry gazes she on the many ripped out pages of magazine covers she had framed on her walls. 

The few times he did go into the city, heavily disguised to run errands for Kokabiel, he’d pick up the newest tabloids or fill her ears with the latest gossip circling the entertainment industry.

“That’s what that old fart is up to now?” She had chuckled about an old acquaintance as she moisturized her snakes with a scale-safe lotion, “He used to be an A-list actor, and now he’s selling retinol cream? Ha!” 

The snakes had hissed with a chuckle-like sound, mirroring their mother as she coddled them. They still made Jameson nervous, even after all these years, they had a mind of their own, each individual one it appeared. But, they all seemed to have the same thoughts when it came to him: hungry.

Watching the snake finish its snack made Jameson a little uneasy as Kokabiel turned away from the statue and she took another sip of her drink.

“I’m getting tired, Jameson. I think I'm going to go inside, maybe take a nice, warm bath to relax.” 

“Would you like me to get the water heated?”

“No, thanks. I can do it myself.” She said, beginning to walk towards the patio doors. 

Jameson’s eyes flicked past her shoulder, at the very moment the statue began to sizzle with a powerful energy that even made his curls stand on end. 

Red sparks erupted from the front of the statue, right on the pedestal it was standing on which raised a few feet in the air. Jameson could only stare in disbelief as the sparks began to swirl like a vortex, until they burst and sprayed like confetti and a figure materialized an inch off the marble surface.

The tiny stranger landed with a quiet oomf, before she stood on her feet with a slight wobble, her little hands held out in front of her for balance. 

Jameson’s eyes flew open at the sight. It was a child! Her platinum-blonde hair disheveled, and her large eyes were darting around the area with confusion and fear. 

When her eyes landed on him, she took a tiny step back, her eyes growing wide as she stared nervously at the new face. 

“M-m-madam!” Jameson finally croaked, his finger pointed towards the girl with a slight quiver as he tried to get the words out. 

“What..?” Kokabiel quirked an eyebrow at his stammering figure. Jameson’s eyes never left the strange girl, and she slowly followed his gaze to the statue.

The toddler and the fallen angel locked eyes, before Kokabiel’s mouth fell open and she stood there silently for a few moments. Charlie’s eyes widened, and she pulled her arms to herself in comfort at the shocked faces.

“What…. is this?” Kokabiel finally spoke slowly, eyes trained on the little being standing awkwardly on the statue. Her snakes lifted their heads slightly, tongues flicking the air as they tried to get a scent of the girl.

“It’s a child, madam,” Jameson whispered.

“I know that! But, how did it get here? What’s the point of having a magical fence if everybody can just walk right through it?!”

“She didn’t get through the fence, madam!” Jameson squeaked, shaking his head furiously as he explained, “She just… appeared here, like out of thin air! I saw it all!”

How could that be possible? There’s no way a child could harness such strong magic. It must be some kind of illusion, trickery by a powerful demon trying to use her empathy to get the best of her!

“You!” Kokabiel pointed an accusatory finger at Charlie, taking a small step forward “How did you get in my garden?”

“Um…” Charlie started, but her words—of what little she had—died in her throat. She only took a step backward, trying to escape from the attention 

“You’re trespassing on private property!” Kokabiel continued to stalk forward, she was only a few feet away now, her snakes becoming antsy as they curled around her, hissing softly.

“Oh…”

“Who are you?” 

Charlie took another step back, her hair grazing the leg of the marble figure. Where was she? 

“…Char—eep!”

Charlie’s heel hit the foot of the statue, and she tripped, her back hitting its leg as she slid awkwardly sideways. Her tiny fingers grasped desperately at the smooth, white stone, but to no avail, as she tumbled right off the edge of the pedestal.

Jameson squeaked in terror, before throwing his hands over his eyes to protect him from any grisly sight. He heard Kokabiel gasp, but no sickening thump or terrible crack of bones meeting the firm ground.

Slowly, he splayed his fingers and lowered his hands, his eyes widening. He stood there gobsmacked at the scene, mouth agape in silence. 

Yes, Charlie had been unable to save herself, falling helplessly in the air…. right into the arms of a shocked Kokabiel. 

Kokabiel stared wide-eyed at her own reaction to the split second of instinct that propelled her to catch the child. Charlie was tightly secured in her hands, being held at arm's-length as far as possible. 

Charlie blinked, before her eyes met those glowing white pupils with a slowly growing smile. She had one hand wrapped around the wrist of the taller woman, as she lifted up her free hand and sent a small, shy wave.

“Hi!”

[art i commissioned for the chapter by ruspettaa]

woahhh nice little(ha!) introduction to my oc, with some cute art of charlie! If I were to ever continue writing this fic, the relationship would be more focused on charlies than lucifers, at least at first. Slow-burn/co-parenting kinda thing bc Koko can def exist without being a relationship with our handsome king. she’s sipping margaritas free as a bird rn.

kokabiel is a loosely based version of the biblical figure with the same name who created the stars and constellations. One of the reasons she fell was for teaching humanity astronomy. A few others fell with her too, but she instead melded into demon society instead of her heavenly counterparts.

the only people that know of her true identity are Hell’s royalty, and Stolas probably has a signed autograph of hers somewhere around his office seeing as his duties are closely bound with her creations.

she’s a business woman too, though i am trying to figure out whether she sells snake-skinned accessories as a fashion line or diluted venom that’s a psychedelic drug which makes you feel all euphoric and stuff. l

I also have no idea who her voice claim is 😭 i imagine it being smooth and buttery like Beyoncé, but i’m sure there’s other voices similar to hers that I haven’t found yet.

i’ve got a comm [by wkyarts51243] in the works that will be styled closer to the show, so here’s a sneak peak i guess ☠️ I’d say her height is slightly shorter than charlie (not counting her horns lol), but I haven’t settled yet.

i have more art (one of her and luci hehe), which i might share either. but you can have the full version of the first art pic, with an extra piece from the same artist 🤭

also making this post so i can cement her backstory and stop changing it up ☠️ it’s its writing officially now yall

anyway, enough rambling, back to writing!! have a great weekend 🤍

[ur-mom-did-69]

Hey y’all! This is my first time writing so please bear with me. Let me know what y’all think though!

Bull rider x Nika Mühl

(Yes ik a bull rider is weird I was just thought about it today💀)

Nothing kills you slower than letting someone go

In the heart of a small Texas town, the lights of the local bar flickered like fireflies, inviting weary travelers and spirited locals. It was a raucous celebration, the air thick with laughter, camaraderie, and the scent of barbeque. The night was alive with the sound of clinking glasses and country music wailing from the jukebox. Among the crowd, Alex, a vibrant bull rider, stood out—not just for her victorious grin, but for her unmistakable Texan charm.

With a cowboy hat perched atop her sun-kissed curls and a worn pearl-snap button-up shirt clinging to her muscular frame, Alex was a walking Southern stereotype. Her jeans were perfectly fitted, revealing her strong legs honed from years in the saddle, and her boots were scuffed from countless rodeos. As she settled onto a barstool, she couldn't help but beam at the crowd, her heart still racing from the adrenaline of a successful ride.

Today, however, was special; it wasn’t just her victory that fueled her energy; it was the celebration itself. Spying a group of tall women nestled in the corner, Alex recognized them immediately—the UConn women's basketball team, in town for a break. Without hesitating, she flagged down the bartender and ordered them a round of drinks. Her deep Southern drawl broke through the chatter as she introduced herself, her smile infectious.

With a confident stride, Alex approached the lively table. “Howdy, y’all! Is this a winning celebration I’m intruding on?” she grinned, her Southern drawl wrapping around every word like a comforting embrace.

“Not at all! I’m Nika,” one of the players replied, her dark eyes sparkling as she extended a hand. “Thanks for the drinks, by the way.”

“Alex!” she said, shaking Nika’s hand firmly. “Glad to meet some champions! I’ve been tellin’ everyone in this town that the only sport that matters is bull riding, but maybe y’all could convince me otherwise,” she chuckled, her accent lending an extra layer of warmth to her charm.

Nika felt a quickening in her heart as she studied Alex: strong but gentle, a prominent presence yet grounded. “I’ve always wanted to ride a bull. What’s it like?”

“Like dancing with a tornado. You either get twirled around or sent flyin’. Makes you feel alive!” Alex said with a twinkle in her eye. They continued to talk, the energy around them buzzing as the night wore on, laughter mingling with stories of triumph and trials.

The two women lost themselves in conversation, sharing stories of their lives—Alex’s wild west adventures and Nika’s basketball powerhouse experiences. Each laugh and exchange sent little sparks between them. With every word, they discovered more that connected them despite their different worlds. That evening, under the dim lights, Alex worked up the courage to ask for Nika's number, and when Nika easily obliged, a thrill shot through her.

“Let’s make this a date then,” Alex suggested, her Southern charm radiating. Nika nodded, excitement bubbling up within her.

Their first outing was unexpected. Alex took Nika to a nearby rodeo, and as they settled into the bleachers, Alex turned to her, a mischievous grin plastered on her face. “So, how’d you feel about seeing me get thrown off a bull tonight?”

“You’re competing?” Nika asked, her eyes wide with surprise and a hint of nervousness.

“Sure am! Just a little amateur rodeo,” Alex shrugged, trying to play it cool, but Nika could see the pride in her eyes. As the night wore on, Nika cheered louder than any of the rowdy spectators, her heart pounding in rhythm with the pulse of the event.

When she watched Alex flawlessly ride a bull, she couldn’t help but admire the tenacity and skill of this spirited Texan. Afterward, the connection deepened, and for the next two weeks, they spent every moment they could together, especially at night, tangled between the sheets, whispering sweet nothings and sharing dreams.

But a looming reality soon hit. The time came for Nika to return to Connecticut, and the distance stretched before them like an insurmountable wall. Their message exchanges grew sparse as they struggled to maintain their connection. The longing turned to frustration, culminating in an argument that lingered over their heads like a thundercloud before it finally burst. Days passed without a word, leaving Alex feeling empty and alone, and Nika wrestling with a sense of loss.

Then came the day when fate intervened, and Alex found herself on the wrong side of a bull's fury. The ride ended in calamity, and the pain was sharp and immediate. When Nika received the call about Alex’s accident, panic and worry surged through her. Without a second thought, she hopped on the next flight to Texas, her heart racing with fear and determination.

Arriving at the hospital, Nika rushed to Alex’s side, the sight of her bruised and bandaged partner shattering her heart. Tears spilled over as they locked eyes; finally, the dam broke, and both began to cry. They had fought so hard to stay connected, but it took this moment of vulnerability for them to truly understand the depth of their love.

“You scared the shit out of me, Alex I thought I almost lost you,” Nika whispered, holding Alex's hand tightly as the tears streamed down.

Upon her arrival, she found Alex bandaged and bruised but still strong. “Hey, don’t look so worried. I’m tougher than I look,” Alex joked, but Nika saw through the mask of bravado. Alex’s face turned from a small smile, into a pained expression. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened. I don’t want to lose you either though,” Alex replied, her voice shaky. They poured their hearts out, sharing their fears and desires, vowing to fight for what they had built together.

As Alex healed, she began to reevaluate her future. The idea of riding bulls, once a thrill, felt more like shackles. She realized that the life she longed for was not rooted in the arena but in moments shared with Nika. The decision came swiftly. With each passing day, recovery transformed into purpose, and soon after, Alex packed her bags and moved to Connecticut, embracing a new chapter with Nika.

But life in Connecticut felt overwhelming. Alex struggled against the quietness of country life compared to the excitement she had left behind. As days turned into weeks, an unshakeable tension hung in the air. Nika’s once-warm smile grew cold and distant, and Alex’s pleas felt like whispers lost in the wind.

Alex recognized that things weren’t changing with Nika and finally had a sit-down conversation with her. “I feel like we’re in the same exact place that we were in a couple of months ago. I mean I’ve tried talking to you about it, which is rare these days because I feel like I don’t even see you anymore when we live in the same damn place for Christ’s sake!” Alex said, trying her hardest not to raise her voice.

Nika scoffed, “I never asked you to drop everything and come up here, Alex! You say that we don’t see each other, but one of us is actually doing something important with their lives. I mean, how far did you seriously think bullriding was going to get you? I’m working my ass off during practice and studying for my classes. What have you been doing the entire time you’ve been here?”

Alex’s face fell as she heard Nika talk about her career. “Wow. So that’s how you feel about everything? You didn’t have to ask me to drop everything for you because I would’ve done it regardless, Nika. Say what you want, but I was doing just fine with my career because I had enough to buy me a farm up here in Connecticut that I was going to surprise you with on our anniversary. That’s what I’ve been busy with the entire time that I’ve been here, but even then I still made time to try to spend with you, but you just kept brushing me off,” Alex said with a lump in her throat.

Nika’s expression suddenly changed from frustrated to regretful. “Alex, I’m so sorry. Please, I didn’t mean it.”, she said teary-eyed.

A moment of silence passed between them. “I don’t think we thought things out enough for us,” Alex spoke softly.

Alex stood up, putting on her boots and hat. “I think I should go. It’s clear that we want different things. I want you, and you want your career and studies, which I understand. Maybe I’ll see you around, Nika. I love you.”

Nika shot up from her seat. “No, Alex, please don’t go. Please, I’m sorry. I love you, I don’t want you to go.”, she said sobbing.

It was too late though, Alex had already gotten into her truck and drove off as Nika watched her from the window. Maybe they were too different to be compatible, or maybe this only made them realize just how deeply they impacted each other’s lives.

So… what do we think…? Part 2? Thank yall for reading hope you enjoyed it!

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

Howdy there! I found your account and immediately fell in love with it(your writing makes me feel all happy) and I was wondering if I could get a Spencer x autistic sister!reader(age 14) and the whole team adores her, what nicknames do you think the team would have for her?(I absolutely love the spencer x sister!reader because I see him as an older brother) Thank you sm, ily, and have an awesome day/night!<3

Spencer Reid x Autistic sister reader

Another request I am very happy to get one.

Request: Howdy there! I found your account and immediately fell in love with it(your writing makes me feel all happy) and I was wondering if I could get a Spencer x autistic sister!reader(age 14) and the whole team adores her, what nicknames do you think the team would have for her?(I absolutely love the spencer x sister!reader because I see him as an older brother) Thank you sm, ily, and have an awesome day/night!<3

Of course I can sorry it has taken me so long to write this, I have ab Art exhibition for my course as college next week and have been getting ready for it.

Third person pov...

Spencer Reid had a special relationship with his younger sister, who was 14 years old. He always looked out for her and took care of her. He even gave his sister a special nickname, which only he called her.

The nickname was Butterfly. Every time Spencer called his sister Butterfly, she lit up with joy, and it brought a smile to his face. He enjoyed seeing her happy and took great pride in being able to make her happy.

Most of their friends and family did not understand the significance of the nickname, but Spencer and his sister never bothered to explain it to them. To them, Butterfly was a special term of endearment reserved only for those special moments between them.

Whenever anyone asked Spencer why he called his sister Butterfly, he would simply look at them with a twinkle in his eye and say, “It’s our little secret.” That, in itself, said everything he needed to say. Nobody could argue with that.

Spencer's special nickname for his sister was a private joke between them, one that brought them closer together and allowed them to be better siblings. They had a bond that no one else could understand, and it was thanks to their secret nickname, Butterfly.

After hearing about Spencer's special nick name for his sister the team decided that they would come up with their own nicknames for thr 14 year old.

JJ: Little Sunshine

JJ decided on this nickname for Spencer's sister because she's always smiling despite any obstacles that come her way. She brings joy and light to everyone she meets and her upbeat attitude always leaves the team feeling positive after each time they spend with her.

Hotch: Jitterbug

Hotch chose this nickname for Spencer's sister because of her energy and enthusiasm as she is always hopping around with so much eagerness. She is truly a bundle of joy and her pep and vibrancy make it impossible to be in a bad mood around her

Garcia: Sugarbear

Garcia was the one to come up with this nickname for Spencer's sister. Her sweetness and kindness enthrall everyone she comes into contact with. She is always ready to lend a helping hand and loves to share her hugs and cuddles with everyone.

Rossi: Little Genius

Rossi chose this nickname for Spencer's sister due to her intelligence and quick wit. She often has insightful comments which show her keen perception and capacity to understand even the most complex of topics. Her intelligence astounds everyone and it is a pleasure to watch her mind work.

Morgan: Dancing Queen

Morgan chose this nickname for Spencer's sister due to her pure and unbridled joy when she is dancing. Her graceful and soaring movements never fail to captivate all she meets and her enthusiasm is infectious. She brightens up every room she enters and leaves everyone charmed with her exuberance.

Prentiss: Bright Star

Prentiss gave this nickname to Spencer's sister as she shines and sparkles in every way imaginable. She is truly one of a kind and she is an indomitable force. She has a way of lighting up everyone's life with her presence and no one can ever stay burdened in her company.

When Y/N heard their nicknames for her she instantly loved all of them and was called each nickname but the members, Y/N was grateful for the amount of love that was put into each nickname for her.

The end!

Hope you liked thus short onehsot so sorry for the wait, a usual sorry for the spelling and grammar mistakes!.

Requests are open!

Word counr: 730

[tex-treasure-chamber]

Title: At the Art Gallery

Pairing: Santana x Alexander

Words: 4,371

Summary: Santana, visiting the London art museum, unexpectedly comes across a lost child and ends up stumbling across a piece of art not listed in the museum's directory.

At The Art Gallery

Santana gazed at the giant painting of an impressionist landscape hung on the gallery wall, her unnerving lack of blinking concealed from behind a pair of sunglasses. She stood leaning just slightly back, her arms folded across her chest as she quietly marveled over the minute brush strokes still raised ever so slightly from the extremely old canvas. She didn't need to stand so close to see all the minute details- she could've easily stood ten, fifteen, even twenty feet away and still see everything just as crisply but there was something about standing in front of a giant, looming masterpiece, right in front of it, that made Santana feel close to God.

She had just closed her eyes to pray when the sound of a small, rapid heartbeat and quiet whimpers of distress immediately snapped her out of her worshipful reverie and with narrowed, searching eyes she turned and scanned the room quickly before zeroing in on the tiny figure of a teary-faced dark haired boy, no older than perhaps four years old, if that. He was wearing a deep green shirt with a dinosaur on it, denim shorts, and yellow sneakers. His olive complexion was ruddy and blotchy around his chubby cheeks as he stood still, wringing his hands and looking around. Santana paused for a second but when a cursory sweep of the other adults in the gallery proved nobody was paying attention to the child, she quickly made her way over and, after pushing her shades up onto the top of her head, knelt down on one knee in front of him with a small smile.

"Howdy there pardner," she drawled softly, "are you lost?"

The little boy pulled his hands away from his face, revealing red-rimmed, verdant eyes. He nodded.

"I'm so sorry," Santana offered softly. "My name is Santana; I can help. What's your name?"

"um, Matteo." He mumbled as he wiped away yet another tear.

Santana cocked her head at the italian accent and resolved to speak slower since she didn't really know any Italian and wasn't sure how much English he knew. "Who did you come with, Matteo?"

Matteo's bottom lip quivered. "The Fahser. Broshers and sisters."

Santana nodded although she couldn't help but notice the way he said "the father" and not "my father"- it was probably a translation thing. She was just grateful he spoke coherent enough English. "Okay, your father. What does he look like?"

For a moment, a sunny disposition overtook the little boy's gloomy demeanor. He smiled up at her, green eyes twinkling. "The Fahser big! Soooooo big!" He said proudly, "And! And strong!" He grabbed the front of his shirt, "Like dino!"

"Like dino?" Santana indulged, "Can you show me what dino is like? What does dino say?"

Matteo held his hands up in front of him like claws and offered a little "rawr" that nearly sent her to her knees with how cute it was.

Santana grinned a fangless grin. "Woooow! Your father is so strong!" She drawled, and Matteo, now thoroughly distracted from his fear of being lost by this kind stranger willing to listen to him talk about who was clearly his favorite person, nodded and beamed at her, his tear streaks drying slowly but surely.

"Mhm! And! And ah–um, kind!" Matteo added eagerly. "So nice! He reads to me! I colour picture for him and he loves it! He puts on the wall!"

"How lovely! Matteo, what colour is his hair?" She asked, taking a lock of her own hair and pointing at his hair before pointing at the lock of hair in her hand, "Is it like yours and mine? Dark?"

Matteo shook his head.

Santana pointed to his yellow sneakers. "What about like this? Light?"

The little boy blinked and looked down at his shoes and after a second, nodded with a smile. "Yes! Yellow!"

Relieved to get a solid answer, Santana stood up and offered her hand.

"Would you like to hold hands while we find your father?" She asked. She was wearing gloves, which she knew may either be a fun or awful sensory experience for the child- she really hoped for the former since her hands were cold.

Matteo took her hand after a moment of staring at it before tilting his head up to gaze at her fondly. "The Fahser wears these, too!" He said as he shook her hand in his before pointing at her head, "and those! But…" he squinted, "not those. Not…" he squinted some more before a light switched on in his green eyes as he proudly said, "not dark."

Santana touched her sunglasses. She wore them out of habit more than disguise- her eyes had been very dark when she was human and now, as a vampire, they looked like dark wine or dried blood, easily passable to most humans as "normal enough" not to really notice unless they got close enough and nobody ever did.

"Oh? Really? He wears glasses? To see?" Santana clarified, pointing at her own eyes with her free hand.

Matteo nodded before saying severely, "He um, he no eat his carrots."

Santana withheld a laugh. "Oh no…" she said, "but you eat your carrots, right Matteo?"

"Yes! The Fahser says I need to and I do and I like them!" Matteo puffed his chest out.

"Very good, Matteo! Your father must be so proud of you!" She enthused sweetly.

Matteo, glancing around at all the pretty pictures, stopped in front of one as they passed by hand-in-hand and tugged gently. When Santana paused and looked down from her searching, he pointed to the picture.

Santana looked up to see a painting of a stormy sea, a schooner tossing about with billowing sails in the moody lighting. She glanced back down at Matteo as he tugged on her hand again.

"Yes?"

Matteo furrowed his brow. "San–ta?"

She melted, just a little. "Saint. Can you say 'Saint'?"

Matteo beamed. He knew that word! "Saint!"

Santana giggled, "Yes, Matteo?"

"Pick me up?" He asked, eyes wide.

Santana raised a brow. He sure was getting sidetracked from the mission here, wasn't he? Well, this was much better than him still crying. He was very little, even little for his age, so she could understand him getting distracted and anyway, perhaps if she picked him up they could more easily search for his father or better, his father could more easily see him.

Santana bent at the waist to look him in the eyes. "Can you say 'please pick me up'?"

He reached up toward her with arms outstretched. "Please pick me up?"

"Okay, since you said 'please'." Santana said. Once he was settled in her arms and against her hip, he seemed to understand he had better view of the paintings around them and began to babble about what he saw.

"Big boat!" He exclaimed, pointing at the painting, "Big!"

"Big like father?" Santana asked, determined to keep him on track.

"Mhm! But the Fahser bigger!"

She highly doubted that. Santana began to walk slowly. "Matteo, look at me, please." She said after walking a few feet. When he looked at her, she smiled and asked, "What colour is your father's shirt?"

Matteo, now looking down at her shirt and vest at the mention of shirts, zeroed in and picked up her bronze tinted cross necklace. He beamed as he held it before finally blurting, "The Fahser has this!"

"That's very nice, Matteo," she said patiently, "Now, what colour is your father's shirt?"

He pointed to her black vest. "Black!"

"Okay, very good! Black!" Santana said, "How about we look for your father now?"

At the mention of his father, Matteo looked up from her necklace but did not let go of it. Oh well- if it broke, Santana could always just fix it, she wasn't really worried. She carried him around, eyes sharp for a distressed bespectacled blond man in a black shirt. As they looked, or more accurately, as Santana looked, Matteo continued to look at the paintings and babble on about what he saw in them, Santana listening and even asking him questions about what he saw. His delicate pulse, still fast as was common for his age, sounded significantly calmer now that he was distracted and the sound of it echoed pleasantly in her mind with each and every step, her heart full in knowing that he was calm because of her.

It wasn't the meditative afternoon she had planned, not by a long shot, but even so, she took great joy and comfort in knowing she had been the one who found little Matteo and felt positive, based on the working description he'd given her, that she'd reunite the boy with his father. She could only imagine the amount of fear and stress the man must be feeling, not knowing where Matteo was, and although this wasn't originally in her plans she still found herself feeling close to God if not more so now with the babbling, calm boy in her arms than she had earlier in front of the paintings. As she walked, she said a silent prayer asking God to please help her reunite Matteo with his family and thanking Him for letting her be an instrument in His hands to return the child safely.

Nearly ten minutes into Matteo looking around and babbling, the boy looked around once again from the painting they were standing in front of to find another to steer Santana toward when he excitedly patted her shoulder and exclaimed, "The Fahser! The Fahser!"

Santana whirled around on the spot, relief flooding through her only for her to freeze, her eyes wide as she spotted Father Alexander Anderson, his massive shoulders heaving and hands shaking from what looked like clear exertion of self-control; evidently, he'd been running. He looked flushed with exertion underneath the somewhat fluorescent lights above, his verdant eyes wide and absolutely wild behind his round spectacles as he glanced jerkily around the room, clearly on a mission of some sort, before finally landing his attention on her.

Santana's heart skipped a beat as they locked eyes but for the life of her she couldn't tell if it was from fear or her flustered excitement to see the handsome vampire slayer so unexpectedly- either way, she involuntarily held Matteo just a bit tighter.

Matteo, blissfully ignorant, grinned and pointed at him. "The Fahser! The Fahser! Hi! Hi! Look!" He waved at Father Anderson, "My new friend! Hi! Come look! Hi!"

"Oh Matteo," she breathed as she watched the man who'd sworn to destroy her friends march up to her in smooth, long strides, his eyes unblinking and sharp, "so this is who you were talking about."

Alexander, standing well over 6 ft, easily loomed over Santana who only stood at a measly 5ft. She was a flea to him, and just as annoying. He clenched his jaw tightly as he offered a sweet smile to Matteo, both relieved and feeling mad with worry and confusion. He stiffly bent down at the waist a little to look the boy in the eyes and Santana, unafraid if not very flustered at his proximity, stared at him even as he forced his gaze away to regard the boy in her arms.

"So this is where you ran off to!" He exclaimed softly in that musical Scottish brogue of his, "You scared me half to death, Matteo; what did I tell you about-"

"This is Saint!" Matteo blurted, patting one hand on Santana's shoulder. "She helped me!"

Alexander cut his eyes up to stare into Santana's and then narrowed them into slits. He was so used to Alucard's unnatural pale red eyes that he'd forgotten exactly what hers had looked like. She stared back at him unflinchingly with a small curl of a smile, eyes wide and twinkling and swirling with a mix of emotions like two glasses of intoxicating, dark wine. Out of all the people who could've come along and found the wee tyke, it just had to be her, didn't it? Her and her dark eyes and devilishly sweet manners! What kind of nickname was 'Saint' for a creature like her? Oh, part of him knew, a very quiet part of him, one somewhat easy to ignore so he did just that, knowing it would haunt him later when he tried to sleep.

"Oh did she now?" He asked, his voice strained, eyes still locked on Santana.

"Mhm! We look at pictures and she ask questions about you like what color your hair is!" Matteo said before glancing up at Santana, "Right, Saint?"

Santana broke their staring contest to smile a warm yet closed-lipped smile down at him, still in her arms. She knew Father Anderson would want her to set him down at some point very soon but until then, she was just a teensy bit reluctant to let go- it would simply have to be up to Father Anderson or the boy, whichever asked first.

"That's…. nice," Alexander said slowly, stunned at the genuine look of warmth and tenderness in the crinkle of Santana's eyes and her smile as she looked down at Matteo. She looked at him like… like a moth–He felt a blush crawl up his neck and shook himself after a moment, resolved not to board that train of thought, at least not right now, and took yet another moment to look Matteo over. He looked… well. He looked perfectly fine, in all truth. Not a scratch on him. Not a hair out of place, thank God.

He lifted his hands up toward the boy. "C'mon then," he crooned, "why don't you come with me and we'll join your brothers and sisters, alright? They're all waiting for you with Father Michael. C'mon, away we go-"

Matteo leaned away and into Santana's embrace with a pout before resting his head under her chin. "Can Saint come?" He asked softly.

Alexander froze, his sweet smile cracking just a fraction. He pushed his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "Ah- er, n…no, laddie-"

"Why?" Matteo demanded, dark brows furrowed.

Alexander locked eyes with Santana who at least had the decency to look sheepish. "Weeeeell," he drawled, clutching at straws, clutching for a way to word things, transfixed with the way she simply stared back at him, her and those damned dark eyes. "er, you… yous see…"

"Matteo, look at me, please." Santana said gently as she tilted her head to the side.

Matteo stopped scowling and picked his head up off her shoulder to do as she asked. Santana smiled softly as she gazed at his sweet face, his dark, curly hair and green eyes so endearing but as much as it pained her, he was not hers to adore.

"It was so nice to meet you but we found your caretaker and he was so worried about you," Santana said sweetly before nodding at Alexander, "just look- weren't you so worried, Father?"

Matteo swiveled his head around just in time to watch Alexander's massive shoulders drop and his smile soften and wobble a little. "I was… so worried." He murmured, "so, so worried, I was praying I'd find you."

Before Matteo could say anything, Santana shifted him slightly, her chest fluttering a bit too much at the paternal concern in Father Anderson's voice. "Whaddya say pardner?" She crooned in a low, sweet voice, her southern drawl like honey and sunshine in Matteo's and Alexander's minds, "Why don't you let the Father hold you? He missed you so much, will you do that? Or do you want to get down so you can hug him? Hmmm? You missed him too, didn't you? Why don't you show him?"

Finally, Matteo reconsidered and leaned toward him and with a grateful, relieved sigh Alexander picked him up out of Santana's arms and cradled him to his broad chest with ease.

'Stars above,' Santana thought idly as she studied the gentle way he cradled the boy to him and how he softly gazed at Matteo, 'how I wish that was me.' Even as she thought it, she couldn't help but simply melt at seeing Matteo so happy to have found "the Fahser".

Alexander pulled his attention away from the boy, now safe, to stare at the creature who had sheltered him despite every instinct she should have had to do the opposite, at least according to his vampiric lessons within the many classrooms of Iscariot. He was considering his next move when Matteo suddenly leaned forward again and, with an outstretched hand, reached over and picked up Santana's cross necklace.

Santana, feeling the chain tense and desperately not wanting it to break even though she knew she could simply have it fixed, stepped forward until her face was practically in Alexander's chest. "Ah- no, no, Matteo-" she chided in a somewhat squeaky, stuttering voice, "let go-"

"Please come with us?" Matteo entreated.

Santana tilted her head back and Alexander froze at the desperate, flustered look on her face and resolutely ignored the way it made his heart kick in his chest with urgency to do something about it.

"Pleaaaaaaase?" Matteo pressed, knowing that Santana liked that word.

Santana frowned apologetically. She thought about trying to gently pry his hand away but sincerely doubted Alexander would want her to touch Matteo now that he was in his arms so she kept her hands at her sides. "Matteo, the Father-"

Alexander sighed tiredly. "Alright, she can come with us," he relented before adding sternly, "but only to say goodbye to you, alright? We have a bus to catch. Alright? Now let go of the chain."

Pleased, Matteo immediately let go and smiled at Santana with an outstretched hand, his attention fully on her. Santana flicked her eyes up at Alexander and when she didn't see him shake his head or narrow his eyes, she accepted the boy's hand. It was a short walk but all the same, Matteo babbled about the paintings he and 'Saint' saw and all the while, Alexander cooed and nodded, not taking his eyes off Santana or her hand. Sure enough, as they rounded the corner, Santana saw a gaggle of children, approximately five between the ages of 7-10, all waiting with another Priest– obviously Father Michael.

Before Alexander could set him down, Matteo leaned forward once more toward Santana and hugged her.

"Thank you!" He said, "I had fun!"

Santana sighed, eyes closed as she savoured this last tender moment with the sweet child, her heart already aching at the thought of letting him go. "Please stay with the Father better from now on, okay?" She requested gently.

"Okay!" He chirped. Once Alexander set him down he took off running to reunite with the other children, all of them excited and bouncing around as Father Michael tried to calm them down.

Now alone and with Father Michael occupied and thus not a threat, Santana turned to Alexander with wide eyes.

"Aye? What is it?" Alexander asked warily.

"You were watching all of them with a companion and y'all still lost one?" Santana blurted.

Alexander sighed. He knew this question would come but it didn't make hearing it any easier. "Aye, but really, we had it all under control until-"

"Dadgum it, Alexander," Santana hissed softly, "it's a blessing I was there."

He worked his jaw as before snarking, "Will miracles never cease? The friend of my enemy, snatching up my wee boy." His expression turned murderous suddenly and he leaned in before adding in a low, challenging tone, "Tell me, and tell me the truth; did you like his pulse? Did his precious, pure blood sing to you? Was it music to your-"

"Don't," She whispered through clenched teeth, her voice hard and razor sharp like one of his many swords and spears, like her fangs begging for retaliation. She glared at him, eyes flashing unnaturally vibrant red in the overhead lights as her eyes widened in her vehemence. Before he could think to retort or even retreat, she stepped right into his space and stood up on her tiptoes, their faces close as he remained bent at the waist, her hands shaking but remaining at her sides as she continued in a low, dark hiss.

"Don't you dare speak to me that way about a child, Alexander Anderson, don't you ever dare again or I'll rip your lungs right out of your chest and wait till they regrow to do it again, do you hear me?" Her eyes flashed as she dared him to say something snarky, to dismiss her, "Do you? Tell me you do, right now."

Alexander didn't speak- he couldn't speak. He didn't move away, either. He stared and stared until he only saw the truth of the matter which was that he'd deeply offended her; she was genuinely angry with him and it struck him, quite forcefully, that until now, he'd never seen her that way before and he never wanted to either ever again.

"Aye, I do." He breathed.

"Listen well; I forgive you for wanting to destroy Hellsing, for wanting to kill my dear friends, for hating me, but know this: I will never forgive you for what you've said if you ever repeat something of the sort to me again," Santana growled, "now, you owe me a sincere apology if you'd like to remain as civil as we have been."

Her anger washed over him in heatwaves. It was astonishing, the depth and intensity of it, feeling it directed toward himself when he was so used to her flirtatious banter and southern, earnest manners. Comparing the two, he sorely missed the latter.

He took a subtly deep breath. "I'm— I'm sorry, Santana. Really, I am…" he uttered, staring deep into those troublesome eyes of hers, "Forgive me."

Santana squared him with a long, pointed look. "I forgive you, Alexander, once and only once. I know you don't want to hear it, but as much as you think I'm an abomination, you were so dadgum blessed it was me who found the boy and not a disgusting human predator." She said quietly and unapologetically, not stopping even as she saw him flinch slightly, "I advise you to travel with three Fathers next time you come into London. I'd offer my help but clearly, it wouldn't be wanted." Before he could say a word, Santana turned away and walked back into the gallery but not before waving goodbye at the children as Matteo called out to her and as she left, she left with a smile on her face for the children, her other hand hidden away from their view and clenched into a tight fist.

Alexander watched her leave, his head swimming. Her blunt allusion to what could've easily happened if she hadn't found Matteo had him tasting sharp, acrid bile in the back of his throat and it took him a second to reorient himself with reality, his stomach churning and lungs shuddering with a genuine fear he hadn't felt in quite a while. Matteo had been safe with Santana- Lord above, she could've easily snatched him herself if she had wanted to, if she were anything but the type of person she was and oh! He'd insulted her! And what's worse, he couldn't help but think of if the tables were turned, couldn't help but realize that if someone had accused him of something similar, something as vile, that he would've felt the same amount of indignation and rage- he probably would've even stabbed the accuser where they stood yet Santana took it and didn't raise a hand to him- Lord knew she had the right to! He ran a hand through his hair; for the first time since meeting Santana, he felt anxious to see her again, unsure of what to expect from her behaviour now that he'd made such a catastrophic blunder.

There was a part of him that said it would be good if she grew to hate him, that it would make things easier, or that if she grew disinterested or indifferent to him that it would surely be a blessing but that same quiet, usually easily ignorable part of him that liked to fixate on her smile and eyes and kind, sweet demeanour was suddenly not so quiet anymore as he imagined her hatred, her indifference, and found to his surprise that the very thought of it felt like falling off a fifteen storey building and slamming into the concrete. He couldn't… He gazed at the children and shook his head– no time to speculate; he'd simply have to wait. He'd just have to let all thoughts of Santana haunt him when he tried to sleep; it wouldn't be the first time.

The children called out to him and gathered around him eagerly as he approached with a big, cheery smile on his face. With all accounted for, he and Father Michael herded them outside and into an awaiting bus to take them to the airport and on a private jet back to the Vatican. As soon as all the children were on the bus, Father Michael stopped him with an upraised hand.

"Who was that lady who found Matteo, Father Anderson?"

Father Anderson thought about telling the truth but when he opened his mouth, all he said was, "An angel, clearly." When Father Michael opened his mouth to inquire further, Alexander waved a hand at the bus and ignored the warmth in his chest as he said, "C'mon, Father Michael, get on the bus or we'll be late."

During the plane ride back, Matteo, sitting beside his beloved Father Anderson, asked, "Can Saint come visit?"

Alexander barely restrained himself from snorting. "Er, nooo, laddie; I think, uh, I think she's too busy."

Matteo pouted. "Ask her? Please?"

Like that would ever happen; even if Alexander wanted to, he knew his higher ups would shoot it down faster than a freshly spotted ghoul. "Eh… how about next time you go to London, you can see her? Hmmm?"

Matteo, satisfied and all too trusting with his tiny child logic, nodded and returned to his coloring book and Alexander, mentally exhausted, closed his eyes for a much needed power nap. If he dreamed of wine colored eyes and brass crosses, he didn't speak of it when he woke up.

[naradivision]

Hypmic OC Halloween Party 2023 🎃 ~Part I

Once the night of 31rd October has already come to the town, who knows? Something extra supernatural is bound to happen!

Disclaimer: Please note that these are not the actual titles to the songs, I just made them up of course. All these songs obviously belong to their respective artists,

And the OCs mentioned belong to their respective creators as well!

To be honest, at first I attempted to make the cast match with their headcanon VCs but considered giving it up at some point because if I did that, some names would be brought up too often *side-glancing at Yuuya, Saigo, and Yorii* 

Surprisingly, almost every song happens to have their own English subtitles available, so open them up if you’d like to know something. I’ll leave more details in your imagination then (¬‿¬)

If you feel tempted to do the fanarts, please feel free to do it XD

So, now. Isn’t it time to let the Feast begins?

3, 

[All lights in the stadium suddenly flickered on and off uncontrollably]

2, 

[One by one, every light in the stadium has eventually been turned off]

1, 

[Now, everything around was soon engulfed in the complete darkness]

.

.

.

#1 Answer The Call (Offer Your Soul)

Kureha “Eclipse” Koizumi

Sumire “Diabla” Shinomiya

Asuka “TREA$URE” Koizumi

Lyall “Corvus” Shiba

Kaoru “Arachne” Shinozaki

Kotono “Shiki” Ohara

Tasuku “Katame” Kawanoe

Eden “Ember” Yamamura

Kaori “Black Orchid” Narizuka

Real title: Dakini Covered by O.B.N.N (AeGJoongG, YangDoki, RaA, EASYDOG, Gogyeol, DALNODO, Seelight, EDEN, ZENRUA) | Original by twinkle, UtaP ft. Kagamine Rin

In the midst of the night, two pairs of red lights roam in darkness…

#2 Werehumans

Kanra “D. Vil” Akemi

Yorii “Sireen” Sakuma

Real title:  Kaibutsu (Monster) Covered by Amatsuki x 96neko | Original by YOASOBI

Dear pioneers, raise up your flags!

The land that no one has yet to know before…

Declare we’re now the ones in charge!

#3 Neverland Kakumei

Kosuke “Lumière” Furuhata

Lana “Facade” Alarie

Aranai “Ride or Die” Norikoru

Tomi “High Class” Chōten

Azusa “Onna-musha” Furukawa

Yuki “Ice King” Kuraokami

Ryūnosuke “Fist N Fury” Sekiguchi

Ace “MC Patriot” Douglas

Yudai “KILLA W” Toya

Asato “AR Master” Rikiya

Anika “Rush Hour” Kiyozaki

Yuuya “ARROW” Kanata

Kotan “Kamuy” Anchikar

Aoba “Guinevere” Yamamura

Real title:  World Domination Original by Hikifes team 2019 (mafumafu, soraru, luz, un:c, araki, nqrse, syounen T, amatsuki, urata, tonari no sakata, shima, senra, eve, sou) a.k.a. My favs all stars XD

——[ Interval: Fan Meeting Session ]——

Howdy~

And sorry for the wait, my dear mortals♡

Hasn’t anybody told you not to follow voices in the night?

#5 See me? See me? (Succubus ’s Lullaby)

Aika “VeeXn” Yumi

[For goodness’s sake, the extent of her show this time was only limited to singing and dancing… Thus, the minors can enjoy it too]

Real title:  Wiggle Wiggle Original by Raon

…Promise me one thing?

Don’t ever let yourself be drawn into this dreamy sweet trap, ‘Kay?

#4 Zombiz Fantasy ♥︎

Shuu “Men-H” Edogawa

Kaiji “Jinx” Sano

Touya “MC Darling” Kisaragi

Real title: Kokotsu ni Yamu (Ecstatic Breakdown) Original by alfakyun ft. takayan Welp, sorry for the unmatched number of voice casts

Exhausted yet?

…No? That’s great!

Why don’t we spice things up a bit before meeting the shuffle teams in the second half! 

#6 Lull X Roar

Yuuya “ARROW” Kanata

Yorii “Sireen” Sakuma

Real title:  Hell is mine Original by araki x luz Yorii did say in his interview that maybe they could work together so why not? I even pray for their voice claims (Amatsuki & Araki) to actually collab one day

🎃 Behind the scenes Pt.1

Even though there are other divisions and some participants which may not be mentioned above, they’re all invited and have their own parts in this event as well. For examples;

Himari Asami, Hiroshi Sakura, and Suzuran Minazuki (who was on the request of her non-blood-related cousin) were in charge of designing and making costumes with the assistance of three fashion interns; Aimi Miyazaki, Alice Shiroka, and Umi Kobayashi.

Akira Arai, Natsume Kurome, Kururi Yamamura and Queen Card’s team were noted to took part in making props. By the way, Kureha Koizumi was anticipated to participate in this as well but she unexpectedly showed up in the opening show —much to everyone’s surprise.

Reiaki Suzubayashi and Emiko Akaibara showed to work together on helping the cast prepare themselves before entering the stage.

Chiyuri Seiguni was tasked to be the main operator of most special effects on stage via the brief from the real technician, Raiden Otoha since this one had to take his part in the 7th show.

Aiko Mayeda was the D.J. and he got the party started! The 86 band and other musical units associated with other division members were also joined in to provide music for some songs.

Most choreography throughout the shows were designed and coached by Yeong Hajoon, Haruto Morikawa, and Kaede Iwasawa.

The representative of Snowflake Sentinel News, Yoichi Shujo; and the head of a certain publishing-house, Nellie Yukimura were assigned to deliver the details of this event. Please expect more live reports and some tidbits behind the scenes from them.

The foods and drinks in this event were all supplied by the alliance between Luis Kōkyū, Rashaad Young, Harumatsuya shop, and Rikiya farm.

The main sponsors of the previous event are Sigma Inc., Toi Pharmaceutical, and E.L. Medical Co. Therefore, this time it’s the turn of Wonder⇓anD Sound Systems, Arakawa Tech Industries, and the concert venue was organized by the entertainment agency “Kairiku Production” with the cooperation of Queen Card’s league. 

For some reason, a certain division was banned from participating —to be specific, it’s Ginza Division. However, Eiji Noguchi and his family were secretly invited because his children wanted to come.

At first Fusao Ise and Queen card were honored to be the MCs (or the hosts) of this event but because the latter had to ‘prepare’ for her own part in the 11th show, Reika Aichi was surprisingly nominated to take over this role once again alongside Fusao.

At the beginning, all the cast were seen wearing some kind of masquerade mask before their first show started.

Though not every division was present in the 3rd show, there were flags with symbols of each team ever participated in the D.R.B. showing on stage.

For whatever reason, Aranai Norikoru was the one who delivered the line “Toki wo (Shout)!” before the chorus “Kakumei wa matte (The revolution has succeeded)!” was sung by all divisions. Well, someone in the cast seemed visibly displeased with how this turned out.

Despite the 6th show being performed by Yuuya Kanata and Yorii Sakuma, the one who advised them on the lyrics was their senior musician, Ren Nakashima, and the music provider for this show was none other than the 86 Band

Before two boys of the 6th show left the stage, the camera caught both Yuuya and Yorii high-fiving Ren who was up for the next show…

▶︎ TO BE CONTINUE IN PT. 2…

Amazing OCs mentioned above are from:

@saitama-division @shinagawa-division @enoshima-division @niigata-division @edogawa-division @sendaidivision @fukuokadivision1 @hamamatsu-divison @toshima-division @setagaya-division @kawasaki-division @kyoto-division @uenodivision @aoyama-division @taito-division @sapporo-division @naha-division @okinawa-division @toyama-division @akihabara-division03 @naradivision @hakodate-division @kumamoto-division @minato-division01 @suginami-division @kobedivision @katsushika-division @miyazaki-division @harajukudivision @urayasu-division @nakanodivision @odaibadivision @chiyoda-divison @minato-division03 @chiyoda-division2 @takatsuki-division @megurodivision @koto-division @ginza-division @shizuokadivision

P.S. Apologizing if I missed out some divisions or have made anyone sound OOC —I'm trying lmao.

Oh, and there were part 2 of course! Maybe other OCs might join in the cast there~~

...Happy Halloween & hoping y’all enjoy it :)

[coffeehighallthetime-blog]

I am kind not complacent Chpt 3

Howdy, here is Chpt 3

{prev} {next}

sorry it's a bit shorter than usual but I promise the next one will be longer. I have been very sleepy all the time. As always, thank you to everyone who liked and reblogged. I truly appreciate you all.

thank you so much to @engardeitsme, @lunaryasha, @nokolla💜💜💜

Chpt 3: 3.8 k words

Heimdall x fem reader

Multi chapter

A/N: im going to take a moment to add chapter summaries and make a master list

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

It had been a few weeks now since YN had been brought to Asgard, and though her first day was less than ideal, she had found her place close to Mal and in her teachings with Mimir, while staying far from Heimdall and Thor. Since the instance on the first morning of her arrival, Odin had been especially wary of when the girl interacted with other people, going as far as suggesting Mimir put wax in his ears to be able to hesitate any “suggestions” she may make. Mimir however felt no need, as he had built a strong rapport with YN and the two had started to grow fond of each other. After all, she was eager to learn, excited that Mimir did not shy away from any and all details and facts. The man in return was thankful for someone who was grateful to listen to every part of what he had to say, for once.

 This morning had started like they had for weeks now. YN had now learned to wake before the rest of the lodge. From there, Mal and she went into the kitchen as the sun barely peeked over the horizon while the cooks and bakers were still making breakfast. They would help with prep in return for cakes fresh out of the oven and porridge hot off the stove. Then Mal would bring YN to her balcony to drink tea and eat at their leisure as the sun rose and they got to hear the chaos downstairs they had narrowly dodged. 

YN blew on a spoon of steaming porridge and hummed as she ate, the heat warming her cheeks and the steam escaping her mouth as she shook her head. 

“ Hah- it’s hoth-“ she gasped as she forced herself to swallow, her eyes squinted shut in pain. Mal sat across from her, peering at the girl from the corner of her eye, and smirked into her tea cup.

“ You need to be more patient. You do this every morning.” YN smiled sheepishly before taking another bite.

“ Hah-, I can’t help it, I think it tastes better this way. I don’t want it to get cold.”

“ You’re burning yourself.”

“It’s okay, I like it when it’s hot like this… it feels hot all the way down my stomach and warms me up for the whole day.” Mal chuckled, shaking her head. 

“ You must have blisters in your mouth. Must be nice having godly healing.”

“ Do you not, Mal? Heal like me? 

“ Me? No dear, I'm just a mortal.”

“ Oh,” YN halted slightly at this, her spoon sinking slowly into her porridge as she peaked at Mal through her lashes. Mimir said the mortals didn’t live very long compared to them, and YN remembered thinking it a pity. She didn’t know there were mortals in Asgard, and she never thought to ask the people around her if they were mortal. Mal watched as YN had stopped eating, and fidgeted in her spot, guilty of her ignorance. Mal simply smiled.

“ Honestly, what’s that pout for?” she tutted, setting her cup down and crossing her arms as she leaned back lazily in her chair to look at the horizon. YN looked up at her, watching as the sunlight twinkled in her eyes framed by crow’s feet, how wrinkles curved around her small smile, and the grey hairs peeking through the top of her bandana. YN thought from the moment she saw her, that she wanted to look like Mal when she grew old. But that would be centuries from now, and Mal would be long gone… The thought made YN droop even further.

“Oi!” YN shot her head up at Mal’s exclamation. The woman now glared down at her, leaning across the table, grabbing a piece of bread. “Now, don’t you pity me. There is no shame in the span of my life.” She sighed, grabbing the jam, “Honestly sometimes I don’t know how the gods do it. I’m so tired already.” She took a bite and looked back at YN, just making a pathetic little sound, obviously, still overthinking. Mal reached over and tiled her chin up, her face firm and unwavering. “Don’t you worry, I’m a tough old bird, you won’t be getting rid of me any time soon. My job as your lady-in-waiting is to make sure you’re taken care of. Understood?” Mal smiled, pinching YN’s chin a bit tighter. YN giggled at the extra pressure, shaking her head free. 

“Ok, I understand.”

“Good. Now hurry and eat. You’re lesson in twenty minutes.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆☾⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“Alright, Lass: pop quiz”

“What’s a quiz?”

“That’s not important: first question: who are the Jotnar?”

“Oh! I know! They’re the most ancient beings thought to be the first to emerge from  Ginnungagap. They um- they’re skilled in physical and mystical powers. Not all jotnar are large in size and can vary from frost and fire giants to different forms of animals. An example of this are Skoll and Hati who reside in Vanaheim!” YN started to ramble excitedly about Jotnar culture and how she had watched them from afar when they walked around Vanaheim. How she saw one move a mountain range once and how she was mesmerized to watch the wolves change night into day. Mimir held a hand up to stop her, chuckling slightly.

“Alright, alright! Maybe that one was a bit too easy.” he grabbed at the scruff of his beard, humming in thought. “Let’s move on to Asgard’s history and politics.” YN’s face dropped and she groaned, dramatically throwing her head back. 

“I’m no good at politics, Mimir.”

“Which is precisely why we need to work on it. You are an honorary Asgardian now, and it’s important you know the roles of the royal family as well as your own role in relation to the nine realms. Now start with the easy ones.” YN sighed but straightened in her seat, starting at the top.

“Asgard is the realm we are in now, it is ruled by Odin and his family. Until fairly recently, Asgard has been at war with the other realms, notably Jotenheim and Vanaheim. You, Mimir, have aided in the creation of peace between these realms by building a rapport with the giants and suggesting the wedding between the All-Father and…” YN sighed, her shoulders drooping, “Freya, the former leader of Vanir, now the queen of the Valkeries.” Mimir nodded, urging her to continue. 

“Odin is the All-Father, ruler of Asgard. He is the god of the sky, of wisdom, healing, um…poetry?” she faltered but nodded in relief as Mimir silently agreed with a nod. She continued, “And the god of divination. He built Vallhalla to reward Asgardians who have gone through a warrior’s death and grant them new life as Einjar. He…He’s a mystery to me, Mimir…”

“What do you mean, Lass?”

“I mean… I feel like I should want to be indebted to him… That I should trust him and want to serve him… but I feel this pit in my stomach…I don’t know, maybe I’m just still anxious about being here…” Mimir wanted to comfort the girl. Tell her what she was feeling was her mystical logic at work, giving her intuition. But that would mean admitting to himself that Odin was not the most trustworthy, and that just wasn’t smart. Mimir cleared his throat, getting the girl’s attention. 

“It’s alright, Lass. you’ve been doing well here. The All-Father will find a place for you here and you will see there’s nothing to be worried about. Now let’s continue.” YN sighed then nodded, giving a short summary of Freya, Odin’s wife who hails from Vanaheim as she does. How the Vanir were a formidable foe and that Freya herself was a powerful warrior. The queen of the Valkeries was of great interest to YN, and she wanted to meet her soon and ask about their home. Maybe she could even ask to learn about Vanir Magix and fighting. She told Mimir she remembered meeting her just once in Vanaheim, and that she had brought her food when she was injured, but they never saw each other again. Despite this, YN saw her as the ruler of the Vanir, and when she left, the realm was heartbroken. 

YN then went on to the sons of Odin. Thor, god of the thunder, and his job as the enforcer of the Asir. He was Odin’s right hand and trained to be a machine on the field. He was physically the strongest and tasked with training his brothers as a result. Since they met, Thor made it clear he was not a fan of the girl, making sure to let her know whether it be by pushing her out of the way in the halls or making fun of her during her sparring with Heimdall and Baldur. Next was Tyr, the god of war in Asgard. He was strong and tall and despite his title, was a gentle soul from what YN could see. He had made YN feel welcome, unlike his siblings. Mimir introduced the two of them, saying that the three of them would be working together after she’s learned more about her role here. The idea of one day being able to travel outside of Asgard with them made her giddy. Tyr would sometimes entertain her and Mal at supper with stories about his travels. 

YN groaned as she spoke on Hiemdall.

“He’s the second youngest. God of foresight, order, foreknowledge, the scion of the Aesir, blessed with enhanced sight and hearing, blah, blah, blah…” YN rolled her eyes as she spoke. Mimir patted the desk she sat on, warning her not to get distracted. 

“Don’t get fresh, Lass. I told you it’s not worth it.” 

“ I Can’t help it!” she groaned in frustration. YN had been trying her damndest to try and get along with the young god, and everything seemed to blow up in her face. She thought maybe bringing him snacks from the great hall or handing him his weapon when they would spar would make it easier for him to stand her, but he would just take what she offered and leave. “He’s so rude! And-and all he does is judge me and take things!”

“Yes, that’s his job. To judge people.”

“I hate it.” she mumbled, folding her arms on the desk and resting her head in them. Mimir sat down across from her, crossing his own arms. 

“Listen, little sister… I know you may not like him, and you don’t have to. But try to put yourself in his shoes for just a moment.

“How do you mean?’ She asked, peaking up from her arms. Mimir simply smiled, knowing by now it didn’t take much for the girl to sympathize with others, and that it may be the best way to encourage some semblance of allyship between the two.

“Well, he’s the god of foresight, but like you, he’s just a child. He can’t control his powers well yet and as the son of the All-Father, you may imagine he carries a great deal of pressure from his family to perform up to their standards. This is the case for all of Odin’s sons.”

 “At least Baldur and Tyr are nice…” YN whispered, just loud enough for Mimir to hear.

“That’s true… but between you and me, I believe the boy may suffer from some form of overstimulation from his powers at times, causing some of his..hm… irritability.”

“What makes you say that?” Mimir simply shrugged, standing back up. 

“Just pay closer attention to him next time you see him. Hm?”

“Ok, I guess…”

“Good, back on topic then. Tell me about Baldur.” Mimir urged. YN sighed but obliged. Baldur was the god of light and a bit younger than her, but they got along fairly well. He was a bit shy but was kind to YN. He was a good fighter and seemed to be a favorite amongst the Aesir. He was definitely the apple of Freya’s eye at the very least.

After more discussion of Asgard and what YN’s role would be in the future, Mimir ended the lesson, suggesting YN enjoy the beautiful day before her sparring session. 

⋆⭒˚｡⋆☾⋆⭒˚｡⋆

The day seemed to crawl at a snail's pace. Since the first time they fought, Odin would sit in and watch to make sure nothing “regretable” would happen, in his words. YN noticed when she was against Heimdall today, he was rather sluggish compared to his usual movements, not carrying as much snark in his voice and seeming to focus on her much harder. 

“Why are you already thinking about dinner? It’s not even sunset.” YN flushed in embarrassment. 

“Stop doing that!” she stomped her foot. Heimdall rolled his eyes and lunged at her, poking her side with the practice sword.

“Hit. reset,” Thor called from the sidelines. The two spaced away from each-other again, waiting for Thor to call out “start” before they continued fighting. It was all so boring, the dodging, the hitting, the resetting to just do the same set of moves over and over. 

“You’re telling me…” Heimdall mumbled, dodging an attack without trying. “At least when we were trying to kill each other you were vaguely entertaining. This is just pathetic.” YN clicked her tongue, dodging a half-assed attempt at a hit. 

“At least you're still getting something from this, practicing to read my mind. Which I hate, by the way,” she stated, blocking a sword swing to her face, “Have I said that already?”

“A thousand times.” Heimdall sighed, pulling away only to come back and swing three times in succession, pushing YN towards the border of the ring with each hit she blocked, “and trust me, I get nothing from hearing your annoying little voice whining about how hungry and bored you are.” YN clicked her tongue at the statement and knocked Heimdall back, lunging in short quick jabs, moving them back to the center of the ring.

“It’s not my fault. Your father is the one watching us like a hawk, making sure we barely touch each other. We might as well be dancing. He’s such a control freak” Heimdall growled, suddenly moving to grab YN by the collar of her shirt. Despite the threat he posed, she was excited at the idea of actually doing some kind of real fighting. Their dreams were dashed however as Odin called out from the distance.

“Heimdall. Put her down.” 

“But father, she insulted you!”

“Now.”

Heimdall growled at the girl before roughly dropping her collar, making her stumble on her feet to not fall into the dirt. She straightened her posture and fixed her shirt as Odin strode up to them. He looked down at the girl, concern on his face.

“You think me controlling, child? I suppose I have been keeping a bit too close an eye. I’m just worried is all.” At the hurt YN seemed to hear at the back of his throat, her stance softened and she offered a small bow.

“No, I apologize All-Father. I thank you for worrying about my well-being. I suppose I’m just getting a bit antsy at this routine I’m still getting used to. After the sun sets, I feel I cannot go outside, so I may be a bit more rambunctious during sparring as a result. And the slow pace is getting to me.” Odin chuckled, shaking his head.

“Is that all? Well, dear, I assure you Asgard is quite safe, if you find you want to wander after the sun sets, you are welcome to go anywhere from the lodge all the way to the wall. You are no prisoner. And you can do whatever you’d like outside your lessons. I encourage you to see how the moonlight changes the scenery tonight.” YN smiled at this, nodding in agreement.

“Thank you, All-Father, I will make sure to do so.” Heimdall seemed to fidget in place, his hands tensing and his mind racing as he listened to the two speak. YN pretended not to notice.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆☾⋆⭒˚｡⋆

At supper, YN sat with Mal and Tyr, listening to him talk about his latest journeys and the interesting people he met. YN only half listened as she felt a pair of eyes on her from across the dining hall, turning to meet a magenta gaze and tilted her head in confusion when the boy suddenly looked away. Heimdall seemed to shuffle in his chair, holding his head with one hand as he slowly took small bites of food. His eyes seemed to close tightly every once in a while and his hands tensed in his hair and around his spoon. He turned to Odin, whom he sat next to, and asked something, only to be silenced with a shake of a head. YN could see some form of frustration in Odin’s gaze as he looked down at his younger son trying his best to stay still and ignore whatever it was that was bothering him so much. Heimdall looked up and their eyes met again. She tried to give a smile and wave, but the boy just frowned and looked back down at his food. YN’s hand slowly fell back to her side and with a shrug she turned back to Mal and Tyr, listening to his stories with a smile pulling at her cheeks. 

⋆⭒˚｡⋆☾⋆⭒˚｡⋆

It was late in the night and most of the lodge was asleep. YN fidgeted in her bed, unable to sleep as the clock at her bedside ticked along with the soft crackle of the fire in her room. Back when she was alone, she was used to sleeping in shifts throughout the day in order to stay alert at night. This also stopped her from sleeping deeply enough to experience her nightmares to their fullest extent.

 She had been in Asgard for nearly a month now but still wasn’t used to sleeping throughout the whole night. YN would often wake in the middle of the night, humming to herself as she read a book that Mimir had given her, and wait until she was tired again to sleep more until Mal would come get her in the morning.

 She rubbed her eyes with her palms and groaned, sitting up in her bed with a sigh. YN thought of how Odin had said she was able to walk around the grounds at night if she ever wanted to, and hesitated for a second before pulling the covers off of her and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She pulled a wool sweater over her white sleeping gown and slipped on her leather house slippers. The lodge was dark, with only a few candles lit in the halls to give any semblance of where anything was. YN stepped slowly down the main staircase, the wood creaking with each drop of her foot. She winced as the plank at the bottom screeched and waited for a beat as the floor settled underneath her. YN tiptoed passed the kitchen, then stopped and puttered back to it, slipping in to grab a bag of roasted nuts and dried lingenberries. After all, a midnight snack never hurt during a little stroll. 

The cool air fluttered through YN’s hair as she pulled open the exit to to the Great Lodge and she pulled her sweater closer to her chest, sighing at the relieving chill. She opened her little parcel and ate absentmindedly as she walked down the main trail leading from the lodge down to the wall, following the moon as it hung in the center of the sky. YN hummed a soft tune, dragging her fingers along the tall grass and wildflowers that lined the trail, watching as Asgard’s nocturnal creatures scuttled through the prairie. Foxes wandered for prey, and weasels emerged from their burrows. It almost felt like home, the way everything moved and shifted around her, unbothered. 

As YN got closer to the wall, walking up the stairs, she hear what sounded like whimpering. The closer she got, the louder it became. From whimpers to sobs, and finally, she could hear whispers.

“Just go away, go away, go away.” the voice whimpered between sobs. YN stuttered her steps, worried but wondering if this person wanted to be left alone or if would be better to help. 

“Hello?” she called out softly, “a-are you ok?”

The voice didn’t respond, continuing to sob out into the night and beg for silence, despite it being the only noise out there. YN took a breath before peaking up over the ledge of the wall. There, Heimdall sat, curled into his knees, sobbing with his hands over his ears, rocking in place. His voice hiccuped as he trembled, continuing to beg. 

“J-just leave me alone,” he whispered, “I just want it to stop… stop it!” Heimdall paid no attention as YN slowly moved closer, crouching down in front of him and waiting for him to realize she was there. His breath was ragged and his hands shook as his eyes darted from side to side, the picture of fear and paranoia. “It won't go away, it won’t go away, it won’t, it won’t it won’t!” he cried out into the air. YN reached a hand out gently and Heimdall gasped, staring her in the eyes as her fingers brushed over his forehead, covered in a cold sweat. Despite the fact they looked right at each other, Heimdall’s gaze was far off and desperate. He continued to whisper frantically as he shook his head. “Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!” His eyes squeezed tightly shut as he tried to get what he so wanted: silence. YN didn’t know what to do. Fearing that speaking may only make things worse. As Heimdall sobbed, YN pulled herself closer to him, sitting on her knees. She sat in his crying, letting it rake over the both of them as the cool breeze blew. She thought for a moment before slowly, bringing her head to rest against his, their foreheads pressed to each other. 

‘I…I don’t know if you can hear me… but if you are feeling overwhelmed by the voices in your head… just focus on mine, ok?’ she focused on these thoughts, letting them take over her mind so that he could hear them and only them. YN swore she could feel him reaching back out to her as his body trembled against hers. ‘It’s ok… just focus on me… just focus on one voice…” he stopped his trembling slowly, but he cried out still, shallow sobs racking through his body. His hands still clamped tightly to his ears and tears trickled down the swell of his cheeks, dribbling down onto the rock beneath them. She sighed softly and brought her hands to rest on his, beginning to hum softly: the song passing both through her lips, and the melody taking over her mind and streaming into his.

They stayed like this. As the crickets rang in the night. As the wind whistled between them and the hollows of the wall. As critters crawled through the brush. And as their breathing started to match, Heimdall’s heart finally started to settle as his sobbing slowed to sniffles and light gasps, until there truly was nothing in his mind but the girl’s soft humming.

[trulybetty]

oct' 17 x whispers

Prompt: apple scent Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Bryony Morgan (OFC) Word Count: 609 Warnings: un-beta'd is the name of the game, playing fast and loose with prompts, dieter being dieter, mostly fluff and maybe one fiona the hippo reference. Summary: what happens in vegas...

x. masterlist

Amidst the clamor of neon lights and the faint hum of the city's nightlife, whispers passed between Bryony and Dieter as they stood outside the Las Vegas Little White Chapel. Bryony's heart raced, the weight of their spontaneous decision settling in.

“Are we really doing this?” she asked, her voice tinged with a mixture of excitement and disbelief as they stood beneath the fluorescent glow of the building's neon sign.

Dieter grinned, his eyes twinkling mischievously in the dim light. “Well, we're here, aren't we?” He paused for a moment, looking almost contemplative. “Although, I’m still disappointed that Fiona isn’t ordained,” he added with a playful sigh.

Bryony laughed softly, her nerves eased by Dieter's familiar humor. She looked glowing in her dress, each shimmering bead and sequin reflecting the city lights. The sheer white fabric glowed, with feathered fringes at the sleeves and hem swaying with every subtle movement. Her bouquet of fresh daffodils Dieter had managed to procure, putting confirmation on Vegas being the city where anything was possible, seemed to mirror her radiance.

Dieter, looking equally casually dashing and debonair in his navy velvet suit, wrapped an arm around her. The rich blue of his attire made a striking contrast against her luminous white dress.

“Thought only virgins wore white,” he whispered into her ear, his hand finding hers as he played with the engagement ring that had only graced her finger for all of two months. 

Bryony looked up at Dieter, a wicked smile on her ruby red lips, “What the King doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” 

Dieter squeezed her hand as he laughed, it had been his idea to elope to Vegas. Neither one of them were interested in the formalities of a wedding. But it had been Bryony’s insistence that if they were going to do it, they were going to do it properly and it was going to be Elvis or nothing at all. 

“On a scale of one to ten,” Dieter asked as he pushed open the door of the Chapel, “is your mom going to be mad we eloped?”

Bryony snorted, “She’ll be pissed at me, but shoving KitKats and cups of tea at you while she tells you she loves you.”

It was a slight exaggeration, but Bronwyn’s love for Dieter was well known.

Dieter glanced down at Bryony with a smirk, “I can’t help it if I’m the favourite.”

She nudged him playfully, “Sure, like you don’t love to encourage it.”

The two of them stood in the entrance for a brief moment, the air filled with the scent of fresh flowers and the soft hum of the chapel's air conditioning. They could hear the faint strains of an Elvis song playing from speakers from somewhere further inside.

Bryony sighed contentedly, wrapping her arm through Dieter's. “You know, as impromptu as this all is, it feels... right.”

Dieter pulled her close, his fingers brushing a stray hair from her face. “It's us. A little unpredictable, and maybe a bit mad?”

Bryony laughed, “You sure you’re not talking about you?” she said as she rested her head on his shoulder, taking in the gravity of what they were about to do.

Gathering up some courage, Dieter looked down at her, his voice soft yet earnest. “Are you ready to become Mrs. Bravo, Ms Morgan?”

Bryony nodded as the double doors to the left of them swung open, the doorway framing a tall man in a black rhinestone jumpsuit, guitar swung on his back and what looked like to Bryony his own hair styled in a tremendous quiff. 

“Well, howdy there, lovebirds! Are y'all ready to get all shook up?”

[xxsp3llb0undxx]

howdy! i'm not sure if you're still taking twilight writing prompt requests, but if you are, could i get a 5 (in random prompts section) with jasper hale? bonus points if it's with a pregnant reader!

Immortality and its flaws (Jasper Hale x Pregnant!Reader)

Prompt: R5 - "I swear to the holy ghost, if I catch you; you'll be deader than you already are."

Disclaimer: Please do not repost my work to other sites or claim as your own, this is purely written from my imagination and from the help of the franchise. All rights of the main storyline goes to the writers and producers of Twilight.

Summary - Reader is Jaspers pregnant mate, they've been together for the last 5 years. Jasper decides to play a prank on his mate with his adoptive brothers, Edward and Emmett; only they didn't expect to be running away from her in fear of being scolded like a bunch of children. Which lets be honest, they are.

MASTERLIST CULLENS

Y/n's pregnancy was a surprise to everyone; including Jasper, but that didn't mean he wasn't thrilled to be a dad. The first couple weeks of her carrying their child were probably the hardest, still being human and having to drink blood to make sure their child was well nourished wasn't exactly what Y/n planned on happening but anything for her baby. Jasper was nothing but loving and caring, he would go out of his way to make sure Y/n was comfortable and nothing was hurting her.

After the first month of the pregnancy, Y/n was slowly able to get up and walk around the Cullen house without being supervised every second, but of course Jasper was still lurking around in case of his mate needing him. That was until one day Jasper wasn't there to help Y/n, he was instead, planning a prank with his two adoptive brothers; Edward and Emmett. It was just supposed to be light hearted, never truly anything to aggravate anyone. Alice was in on it too, she was not to tell Y/n what the boys were conspiring, in return they said they would bring the petite, fairy -like vampire on a shopping spree whenever she wanted.

And so the planning began, the three vampires were sat outback on an unusually sunny Friday afternoon; Edward kept reading Y/n's mind to make sure Alice was keeping her occupied for the time being, feeling reassured enough to walk back to his brothers, Edward heard Emmett's bounding laugh bounce off the surrounding trees. "So, what have you come up with?" Jasper's lips stretched into a wide grin, his amber eyes twinkling with mischief. In this moment, he was the living embodiment of the Cheshire Cat. Jasper explained to Edward what Emmett had proposed, the bronze haired boy was all on board to go forward with their little escapade.

Y/n was sleeping peacefully when the Cullen boys started to move all of Y/n's favourite snacks to the lower shelves in the kitchen, knowing full well her swollen stomach would restrict her from being able to reach them. Emmett's laughter roared throughout the house, the blonde vampires trying to shush him in fear their prank would be cut short from Jasper's mate waking up. Luckily, Alice had come downstairs and told the trio they were in the clear for now but Y/n would wake up any minute.

The Cullens boys rushed around to finish off anything that had to be done to make this prank the best it could be. Five minutes later, they heard one of the doors upstairs open, they were met with a waft of honey and the smell of grass after it had been raining; it was Y/n. Jasper rushed upstairs and took a hold of his mate. "What are you doing up out of bed? You're not strong enough to be walking around." His thick southern accent more noticeable, that only happened when he was worried or anxious about something.

Her bright e/c stared into Jaspers amber ones, she held such a soft look in her eyes; the same look that she always uses in an attempt to assure her mate everything was okay. "I was hungry, so I thought I would go down stairs and get something to eat." Her voice was velvety, it made Jasper's still heart skip a beat. Said vampire picked up his mate and carried her down the stairs, he wasn't going to risk her getting hurt from falling down the ash wood stairs. Once they had reached the bottom, Alice had come over to help Y/n walk to the kitchen.

The fairy-like vampire knew of the prank her adoptive brothers were pulling and she knew how cruel it was but, boys will be boys she thought. Y/n started rummaging through the cupboards trying to find her favourite snacks to eat, she let out a frustrated sigh as she stretched her arm as far as possible to open the doors to the cupboards beside her legs, the pain in her back accompanied by her swollen stomach stopped her from being able to bend down. Once the thin slab of wood finally pulled open, Y/n saw a glimpse of her favourite snacks pushed behind the cleaning products. She was livid, how dare they move her beloved snacks.

Quiet laughs came from the living room, before Y/n could confront her mate or his brothers, Alice had broken away from her vision; Edward knew what was coming next so instead of sticking around for Jasper's angry, hormonal mate to come and murder them; he starts running for his life, his brothers hot on his tails. When Y/n finally managed to hobble her way to the living room, the three vampires were gone. She knew they were still around somewhere, close enough to hear her. "I swear to the holy ghost, if I catch you; you'll be deader than you already are. You better run, Hale."

To say the least, Jasper didn't come back home for a few hours until he was certain his mate had calmed down a little bit. When he finally came to his sense, though, he was met with an extremely angry Y/n. She told him she would only forgive him if he cuddled her and told her all the stories about his life prior to meeting her, and of course, new snacks.

[mytheoristavenue]

Can I request a Moondrop x fem! caring! Chubby! Reader? Where the reader starts crying because some people have been insulting her due to her chubbiness. (Smut and fluff plz)

Hey sorry for taking os long to get around to this ask, I've just been putting it off for the sake of the content, and I'm sorry for that. Also, it'll be in the form of headcanons and probably just fluff, hope that's ok!

FNAF SB Moondrop x Fem!Insecure!Chubby!Reader HCS

- You've been working in the DayCare for nearly a year now, and you love your job to death. The kids are so sweet, and you love working with them. It's the parents that you can't stand.

- One day, an angry father caem to pick up his daughter and began yelling at her over a stain on her shirt. You go over to diffuse the situation, and seperate them physically.

- "Howdy, Superstars? What seems to be the big stink?"

- "What is this on my daughter's WHITE shirt?"

- You recognize the stain as a smear of chocolate from the day's DIY snack, chocolate strawberries.

- "Apologies, sir, that's just some chocolate from today's snack! Every day we have three snacks: Morning, noon, and afternoon! For the afternoon snack, we like to have all the kids get together and make something new together!"

- "It's true, daddy! We made chocolate covered strawberries today!"

- The father's expression seeps with anger as he grab's the collar of your shirt.

- "What the hell do you think your doing feeding my kid chocolate all the damn time? You're just trying to fatten her up, aren't you? THat's right, you hate that a six year old looks better than you do, so you're trying to make my little girl out to be as ugly as y-!"

- You begin to feel hot tears prick your eyes, threatening to ruin all the effort spent on your clown make up.

- The Attendent has been listening the whole time and, givin the closeness between you and Moon, Sun decides to take a seat for this one.

- Moon looms over the man with a harsh grip on his wrist, before relaying an automated message with a very upbeat tone.

- "Hey there, Shooting Star, you have been very naughty! You have been reported to be playing a little too roughly with one of our SuperStar Staff, so it's time out for you! Please step to the side, away from the child and wait for security to arrive!"

- "What! Are you fucking joking?!"

- With little time to protest, the father is dragged away by security bots, to come to face Vanessa, head of security.

- You sigh with relief, guiding the girl to the office with you to phone her next avialable gaurdian, with Moon relenting, and falling back to give Sun control again as they intergrated with the other kids.

- You get ahold of the girl's mother, who agrees to leave work to come get her. You give her a cookie for being brave while she waits.

- After the DayCare closes for that day, you leave the lockerroom, having just dressed down back to your street clothes. You smile hearing the jingling of bells in the dark corners of the room.

- Suddenly, Moon pops out from behind a play structure, before creeping over to you.

- "Are you alright, Twinkle Star?"

- "I'm fine, just a bit shaken from earlier, I guess."

- "I'm sorry humans are so mean."

- "Not all humans, just enough to count for something."

- "For what it's worth, Star, I think you are exceptionally beautiful."

- "Do you really mean that?"

- "I do. You are lovelier than you'll ever know, My Star."

[green-socks]

Naptime Hero

Pairing: Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels x gn!reader

Summary: Jack Daniels does performances telling cowboy stories for little kids. You happen to find him charming, and he sure finds you charming.

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: none. Well, Jack isn't a secret agent in this or anything so like AU I guess?

Notes: This is dedicated to birthday girl @writeforfandoms because even if you don't remember it, we joked around with this idea sometime in the summer, idk when and time is confusing, but yeah I made it and now you have to look at it!! Sorry!

MASTERLIST

Working as a kindergarten teacher you often saw some weird or unexpected things. The things little kids were capable of was frankly astounding, including but not limited to stuff concerning the many forms of bodily fluids. And sometimes even wilder the parents, some of whom seemed to think your responsibilities and talents were far above your pay grade - or even beyond your capabilities as a human being. Still, despite all the difficulties and hardships of the job, you loved your kids to death and truly enjoyed what you did.

One of the best parts of the job were special occasions, usually meaning the times around holidays or just random themed days that brightened up the everyday routines. Of course, they required a bit more planning from you and the other staff members, but the joy the children got from those days made it all worth it. It was a nice change of pace for you too.

Today was one of those special days. And this day actually required very little preparation form you. One of your colleagues had asked some sort of performer to come entertain the kids for a while, and you didn’t need to do anything but watch that the kids behaved themselves. You didn’t really know who the performer was or what they were going to do, but your colleague had said that they were really fun and that they did some TV appearances as well, so there was a good chance your kids new of them even if you didn’t.

Today’s special thing was the performer then.

Turned out the performer was also today’s unexpected, weird thing.

-

You had the kids sitting in a half circle in the playroom when a man came in. A man with… a stuffed horse around his middle like a lifesaver, acting as if he was riding it, with the horse’s four legs dangling around him. He had a cowboy hat and boots, a piece of hay between his teeth, the works.

“Howdy,” he greeted the kids, and as kids do, they answered in chorus. The man introduced himself as Cowboy Jack.

Your colleague leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Isn’t he gorgeous?”, and you were forced to blink a little. Gorgeous? The man had a stuffed horse around his middle! A horse named Raisin, as he was just telling the children. Apparently, Raisin was his faithful companion on many adventures.

But then you really looked at him, past the horse and the costume. He did have lovely brown eyes that twinkled warmly as he spoke. A very attractive mustache, a charming smile, broad shoulders. Yes, you decided, he was kinda gorgeous.

As he launched into an exciting story about his dangerous cowboy adventures you let yourself be pulled in by his deep, drawling voice. He certainly seemed to have the staff’s attention. A few of the older ladies especially had obvious heart eyes - not that you could blame them. A charming man who was good with kids? Kindergarten teachers generally ate that shit up. But he also clearly had the children’s attention. Round eyes watched him act out his latest heroic deeds catching bad guys and saving everyone from little kittens to old ladies and everything in between.

“…and then-- Actually, you know what, my friends? Your cowboy needs some assistance in this next part of our story. Even cowboys can’t finish all missions alone. I learned that the hard way,” he nodded sagely.

“Would there be someone willin’ to offer assistance on this cowboy’s important mission?” he asked, turning to offer his hand to you, since you stood closest to him.

The kids cheered, so of course you said yes. Working with small kids was half improv anyway, so you could totally do this.

Grinning, you took his hand, “Let’s ride, cowboy.”

He smirked back.

-

You ended up helping Cowboy Jack save the mayor of a small town (actually another coworker of yours) from two mischief makers (actually two of the kids), giving the story a happy and successful ending for all. And you had a lot of fun!

The kids weren’t ready to let Cowboy Jack go, though, and begged him to stay for their nap time to read them a story. You were secretly with the kids on that one, even when you tried to gently admonish them and explain that Mr. Cowboy surely had places to be and things to do. But you were surprised when the director of your school gave him the OK and he accepted the invitation graciously.

So, after a while the kids settled down for nap time, and Cowboy Jack was handed the book your group was reading this month. You settled in on a chair near the door, keeping an eye on the children and on the man now reading the bedtime story.

You found yourself once again being entranced by his deep, raspy voice. But unlike the kids, you were definitely not feeling sleepy. In fact, in a wild contrast to the situation and your surroundings, his voice was making you feel warm all over. All in all, you were happy no one there could hear your thoughts, as you crafted different scenarios where that voice whispered all sorts of things in your ear.

The kids were absolutely quiet, and you were very proud of them for being on their best behavior for your guest. Or maybe his voice was magic.

One of your coworkers (the mayor from earlier) took the book from Cowboy Jack’s hands and quietly whispered to him that he could go to the teachers’ breakroom to have some coffee before he left. You were going to have your break now too, since you weren’t on nap time duty this time, so you quietly slipped out of the room with the performer in tow.

“I can show you where the breakroom is since I’m headed there too,” you whispered to him, leading the way.

“Thank you,” he whispered back.

He had taken off his horse and costume thingy before he sat down to read, and you noticed now he was carrying a large bag where all his stuff was, probably the horse included.

“Can Raisin even breathe in there?” you asked, pointing at the bag.

The cowboy just laughed happily at that. “I’ll let him out when we get back to the stables, don’t you worry.”

You chuckled too and offered him a cup of coffee, motioning him to sit down with you.

“Thank you, sweetheart. And thank you for assistin’ me out there. The kids sure loved ya, and dare I say you were one of the loveliest partners I’ve ever had the pleasure to have on my adventures.”

“So you would recommend me as a partner? Cause I think I wanna add that to my CV. Or possibly my dating profile,” you mused.

“Yeah, I’d recommend you for a partner on rescue missions. Might have to test out further before I can confirm that for the dating profile though,” he drawled, smiling.

Oh my. Was he offering? Was this happening?

You tried to save yourself from getting too flustered and asked, “Is Cowboy Jack your actual name?”

He grinned, “Jack’s my name, sugar. But I haven’t heard yours yet.”

You introduced yourself formally, and he took your hand to press the slightest kiss to it.

Holy moly, this man was a real charmer. You were honestly not sure how to react other than by taking a deep breath to control your rapidly beating heart and try not to stare too hard at him.

Conversation continued easily for a while after that while he somehow managed to squeeze in even more flirty comments. It was a lot of fun to talk to him, and you found yourself laughing constantly. But the fun was interrupted when you became aware that your break was ending, and it was time to go wake up the kids.

“Shoot, I have to get back to work! It was really nice meeting you, though. Thank you for the show, and for staying to read too. Your voice is really amazing,” you blurted, hoping it didn’t sound too weird.

Jack grinned at your sudden burst of busy energy. “It was an honor to meet you too, sugar. Now you can tell me to go to hell if I’m being too forward here, but could I take you for a cup of coffee again some time? Outside of both of our workplaces, I mean.”

You looked at his hopeful eyes a little surprised, still almost convinced his flirting had been just him joking around or something.

“I- yeah, yes, of course,” you stammered, “I would like that.”

You quickly handed him the spreadsheet with all the staff’s numbers on it from the notice board, circling your own and handing it to him. You didn’t really think he’d use the other numbers for evil, and if he did, you knew how to reach his work too.

“Now I really have to run,” you said apologetically.

Jack got up and took off his cowboy hat to kiss your hand again. “I’ll hope to see you again soon, darlin’,” he murmured.

You dashed off from the breakroom with a smile and a new energy to face the rest of the day with.

-------------------------------------------

tagsies: @starlightmornings @lorecraft @niki-xie @salome-c @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @mylovelycomandante @littlemisspascal

[from-seas-to-skies]

Farm Grown / Hawks x Reader ♕︎

uwu, I had the lovely @weirddpand4 draw this picture of cowboy Hawks for this work!!!

warnings: NSFW, spanking, cream pie

words: 4,802

-

“Oh, wow! Look at that! I’ve never seen grass so green before!” your friend, Urakaka Ochaco, exclaims.

Glancing up from your phone, you follow her line of vision; gracious hills of rich green grass stretch out far into the horizon, meeting with the brilliant shade of blue. It’s so unlike the skyscrapers and closely-knit houses you’re used to seeing. No, this is what pure beauty looks like, Mother Nature in one of her most wonderful forms. Although the fields are dotted with wildflowers and corn fields, you don’t miss the dirt road further up ahead, a large wooden sign planted next to it.

When Ochaco originally came to you with the idea of being a farmhand, you thought she was crazy. You’ve finally graduated from high school, got the title of professional hero, and this is the first thing she wanted to do? However, as she further explained, it was a family friend who needed help during the summer months, and what were heroes for? Granted, you wanted to run around the cement jungle and provide help that way, but this “almost vacation” didn’t sound too bad – plus, with the puppy eyes Ochaco flashed at you, it was impossible to say no.

And so, here you are, sitting in the passenger side of a coupe with Ochaco behind the wheel. You have to admit; the surrounding atmosphere is beautiful, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to run barefoot through the grass. Clouds of dust rise as the car eventually comes to a stop outside of a weathered farmhouse. Ochako flashes you a smile, her large eyes twinkling.

“Look at how huge this place is! I know Uncle Iroh said he had a couple people helping out, but this is incredible! We’ll each have our own room!”

You can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. Ochaco’s always been easy to rile up, and the fact that she’s genuinely excited to spend quality “bonding time” with you is heartwarming. As the two of you step out of the car, the front door to the farmhouse opens, revealing an elderly man with a long beard and a kind expression. His face cracks into a smile when he and Ochaco make eye contact; the two hurry towards each other, warm greetings and bone-crushing hugs being shared between the two. It’s no wonder Ochaco was so excited to spend the summer here; with a relationship like that, you’d be happy to see the man too.

“Oh, come, come!” Iroh says, hurrying around the car and popping the trunk open. “You must be Ochaco’s friend, yes?” he asks, looking towards you. A wave of pleasant warmth washes over your being as he sends you that charming smile. “I appreciate the help! I only have my nephew and another man working here already, but the extra hands will come in handy.” He pauses then to chuckle at his own joke. “But I think it’s about you two get settled, yeah?”

“Right!” you respond, pulling out your own suitcase.

As you walk up towards the wraparound porch, you glance to the other trucks sitting out in front of the farmhouse. Iroh said two others were already here, so you figured the trucks must be theirs…

“Zuko!” Iroh booms. “Our guests are here!”

After a moment or so, a boy around your age staggers from the kitchen, a tray in his hands. From the looks of it, a teapot and some cups line its surface.

“Tea is our specialty, here,” Iroh says, nudging you with your shoulder. “Get something to drink and then we’ll show you your rooms.”

-

Later on that evening, you’re gazing out your window, watching the sun fall. Hues of orange, peach, and lilac paint the sky, bidding the world goodbye for the night. It’s definitely different to experience it here than back home, back where silhouettes were outlined by the golden glow. A steady breeze carries on, carrying the scent of wildflowers and musk; your curtains flap from the sheer force of it, but you pay it no mind. It’s like Ochaco brought you to a slice of paradise, even if it’s with the intention of putting in labor.

In the distance, you hear calls and the distinguished moos of cows. Shifting your gaze, you catch a herd of cows being moved towards a barn; a man riding a brown horse wrangles them in, a border collie by his side. The way he pulls it off is smooth, and it’s clear that he’s used to pulling such a feat. However, what really catches your attention is the pair of magnificent scarlet wings protruding from his back. Now, you’re used to seeing some rather flashy quirks, but this guy’s is just… Wow.

“Hey, Uncle Iroh wanted me to come get you,” Ochaco’s voice says suddenly. Turning around, you see her standing in the doorway, a pleasant expression playing on her face. “We’re having oyakodon for dinner! Doesn’t a hot meal sound delicious?” And, as if to amp up your spirits, Ochaco licks her lips and pats her tummy. “I’m so hungry from a long drive!”

You huff in amusement. “Yeah, I am too.” Turning around, you catch a glimpse of the cows disappearing into the barn, that mysterious cowboy stationed by the doors. “Hey, Ochaco,” you start before realizing it, “but who’s that other guy that lives here? The one with the wings?”

Walking over to where you stand, Ochaco peers out the window, following your line of sight. “Oh, him? That’s Keigo. Uncle Iroh says he’s only been here for the past year or so, but he’s really good at what he does! I heard all the animals like him a lot – maybe it’s because of the wings?”

“Don’t you think it’s… odd that’s only a farmhand? With a quirk like that, you’d think he’d be doing something else.”

Ochaco shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe you should ask him sometime? Oh, but I’m really hungry! Can we go eat, now?”

“Yeah, sorry, I just got distracted…”

And so, you soon find yourself sitting at a sturdy wooden table, a bowl of oyakodon sitting before you. It smells utterly delicious - and paired with the tea Iroh brewed, you know you’re in for a treat. Just then, you hear a door opening and closing; there’s a chatter of some sorts, but then there he is, right there in the flesh.

Strong build, wide shoulders, blond hair that looks permanently tousled, and oh yes, those magnificent wings. Perhaps you shouldn’t be staring so much, but the sharp line of his jaw and intense eyes make it nearly impossible to look away. You’ve heard of such things, read about them in stories, but maybe, just maybe, you might’ve fallen for the guy at first sight. That, or he’s just too damn attractive for his own good.

“Howdy! Oh, shit, who are these two cuties?”

Or maybe not.

“Oi! Keigo! Can’t you be respectful for once in your life?” Iroh barks, popping around the other. He scowls as he slaps a wing out of his way. “Make a good impression for yourself. These two are going to be here for the rest of the summer, so don’t be an ass.”

“C’mon, gramps,” Keigo drawls, “you know I’m better than that. Plus, if they don’t like my attitude, then it’s not really my fault, huh?”

“Nothing ever changes,” Zuko says lowly, his words followed by a deep sigh.

You and Ochaco share a look. It seems like your Prince Charming is nothing more than a sarcastic asshat. How befitting.

“Liven up, birdies,” Keigo says, sliding into the chair directly across from you. “I don’t bite.” He winks at you. “Yet.”

Your entire body jolts at his proclamation. This guy really is shameless, isn’t he? Still, you can’t help but feel undeniably attracted to him. Curse his charisma, dammit.

“Aw, sweet! Is this oyakodon? Hell yeah.”

To the side, Zuko facepalms. Iroh merely chuckles and shakes his head, much like he’s way too used to this kind of behavior and has accepted it as it is. Hell, even Ochako cracks a smile. You, on the other hand, stare at Keigo in confusion. He has a bird-based quirk, doesn’t he? Does it not bother him to not eat chicken…?

Keigo puts up a hand, an amused glint in his eyes. “Look, I already know what you’re gonna ask, kid. I can practically see the gears spinning in that pretty head of yours. I fucking love chicken.”

Oh… Well, that takes care of that, doesn’t it…

-

After that first fateful encounter, you’ve grown used to Keigo’s ways. It’s funny, though, how he and Zuko’s personalities basically sit on either end of the spectrum, yet Iroh treats the both of them like they’re his children. While Zuko is serious and straight-laced, Keigo is more of a chatty free spirit. That said, you’ve also gotten used to Keigo’s flirty side. You suspect it’s because he likes to get a rise out of everyone. Whether that’s the case or not, your eyes often wander after him, stare down the hard lines of his back. Even better, you itch to trail your lips over the scruff lining his jaw. The guy’s too damn hot and he knows it.

Over the past month, a game of cat and mouse has started between the two of you. Him, trying to act all chummy and overstepping numerous boundaries. You, trying not to give into the weird relationship that’s bloomed between you and him. Sure, you might have flirted back, but what were you supposed to do? After all, Keigo’s proved himself to be a rather cool guy.

“You can’t keep spacing out like that, kid,” Keigo says, snapping you from your thoughts. Glancing down at him, you attempt to suppress your embarrassment, but Keigo’s too smart for that. Despite his relaxed attitude, he’s surprisingly intelligent and quite observant.

Hands tightening around the saddle, you scoff. “I wasn’t spacing out…”

Keigo cocks an eyebrow. “You know, if I wasn’t holding onto the reins, Nugget would’ve bucked you off a long time ago.”

This time, you snicker. You know that he has an undying love for chicken, but every time he refers to his horse as Nugget, you can’t help but laugh. This guy really is like a child.

“Pffft. Laugh all you want, birdie. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s how to ride.” Narrowing his eyes, he flashes you a sultry look. “If you want, I can show you.”

All laughter dies on your tongue. A spark of heat erupts in your stomach, makes your heart thump against your ribcage. He always manages to fluster you, to plant naughty little thoughts into your head. You swallow thickly. “I think… I think I’ll stick with Nugget for now.”

At that, Keigo shrugs, his expression turning into something more nonchalant. “Suit yourself. Seriously, though; you should always keep your focus while riding a horse. Anything can happen, and you’ll only know you’re fucked until you’re being crushed. Better yet, you’re flying overhead and end up snapping your neck. Hate to break it to you, but you don’t have wings to break your fall.”

“Keigo.”

He looks back up at you. “What?”

“Your wings. It’s just that… Well… Why help out on farm?”

Keigo blinks at you, no words slipping out. “Hah? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Shit,” you say quickly, mentally cursing yourself out, “that’s not what I meant. You can fly, can’t you? It just seems like you could’ve made a name for yourself…”

“And become a hero, right?” You wince at his words. He hit the nail right on the head. “Heh. Yeah, I guess you’re right. I could spew a whole bunch of shit from my mouth and call it a day, but that’s not my style. I’m a hero in my own right.”

You furrow your brows. Remaining silent, you wait for him to carry on.

Keigo sighs at your implication. “Not all heroes wear capes or whatever. What about cops? Firefighters? Nurses? People who help put food on your table and help that old man out? Just because I’m not stopping some robbery doesn’t mean I’m not important.”

His words come as a slap to the face. He has a good point; actually, scratch that. He has a fantastic fucking point.

“I’m sorry,” you say after a moment’s silence. “That was selfish of me.”

Keigo waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t beat yourself up, kid. Nugget gets nervous if you get into a bad mood.”

Absentmindedly, your hand drops onto the horse’s neck, giving it a couple of reassuring strokes. “He’s a beautiful horse.”

“Yeah – well, until I bathe him. Getting up close and personal to horse cock isn’t fun. A bit degrading, actually.”

Slapping a hand over your mouth, you try to muffle your sudden laughter. Air streams through the cracks of your fingers.

Instead of his usual smirk, Keigo flashes you a genuine smile. You’ve only seen it once or twice before, but it never fails to make your heart stop. His whole face scrunches, his pearly teeth a startling white compared to his sun-kissed skin. Okay, so maybe you’ve fallen in love with this guy. It’s no big deal; you’re only here for the summer, so there’s no point in chasing after something you can’t have.

“What, did ya find that funny? I’m here all week, folks.”

“You saying you’re a standup comedian now?” you shoot back. “I didn’t know they accepted clowns on farms.”

“Ohoho, so you do got a mouth. Where’s that been all this time, huh? Would’ve made things a lot more fun.” Reaching up, he knocks his cowboy hat further back, revealing more strands of sandy hair and bronzed skin. “Listen here, partner. This town ain’t big enough for the two of us.”

“Oh my god,” you say with a snort. “You’re such a dork.”

Keigo snickers. “You know you love me.”

Heh. Yeah…

If only he knew.

-

Maybe you should’ve taken his words more into consideration.

Your instincts are more attuned to what could happen in battle, not for words. Besides, Keigo is a sneaky bastard. Most of the things that spew from his mouth are innuendos and pure sarcasm. He doesn’t really come off as a genuine type of person.

It’s whatever. You don’t like to read into things too much, and maybe that’s your fault, maybe it’s not. Who knows?

Even so, your eyes continuously drift over to where he stands. He busies himself with hanging Nugget’s saddle and harness away, his body lax. If one’s thing for sure, he definitely seems a lot more comfortable around animals rather than actual human beings. You can’t blame him, but what about you? Is he comfortable around you?

Clearing your throat, you turn back to the task at hand. Brushing Nugget down, you trail your hand over the coarse hair, the hard muscle. You meant it when you said he’s beautiful. Shiny brown coat, straw colored hair – he seems like the perfect match for Keigo.

“Cowboy Keigo,” you mutter. “Tell me, Nugget,” you begin, “does Keigo treat you right? Feeds you apples and lumps of sugar? A pretty horse like you deserves to be spoiled.” At the mention of his master’s name, Nugget whinnies. “Is that a yes? You’re avoiding the question, man.”

“Are you seriously trying to sweettalk my horse?” Keigo pipes up. Stepping over the stall, he hoists himself up onto the gate and straddles the wood. Wings sweeping behind him, he flashes you a peculiar look. “Didn’t they teach you in school that you shouldn’t seduce a horse? I don’t know about you, kid, but bestiality isn’t smiled upon around here.”

“Then what does that say about you, bird boy?” you quip. “Surely you don’t put yourself in that category?”

“Ooo, degradation. How did you know that was one of my kinks? Were you looking through my search history?”

Rolling your eyes, you set the brush to the side and join him at the gate. Climbing up, you mimic his movements and straddle the wooden beam. “Kinky cowboy, huh? Kind of has a nice ring to it.”

“Oh yeah. I’ve got the bedazzled white boots and everything. I mean, I’m already wearing the assless chaps and everything.”

“You sound more like a stripper rather than a farmhand. What do you think, Nugget?” you ask, turning towards the horse. Nugget merely snorts and shakes his head.

“Hey, hey, don’t agree,” Keigo tells him. “I’ve got to keep my secret life a secret, you damned horse. Help a guy out.”

“I guess your partner would rather throw you under the bus,” you say with a chuckle. “Good horse.”

“Now you’re just trying to hurt my feelings.”

“Cry me a river, bird boy. Or do I have to kiss your booboos?”

At that, Keigo falls quiet. The look in his eyes is unreadable, but the way his body tensed tells you something else entirely. Abruptly, he swings his leg over the gate and hops back down onto the ground. Aw, shit. Did you take it too far? It was only lighthearted flirting and yanking on his leg-

“C’mere,” Keigo says, offering you his hand. His voice is a lot more… soft.

With little to no hesitation, you take hold of his hand and get off the gate. You’re about to ask him what he wants, but then he’s abruptly pulling you to the side, further away from the stable’s open doors. Birds are singing outside, their sweet melody carrying along with the sweet summer breeze. It almost seems like an entire world away. A grunt escapes your lips as you’re shoved against the wall, the smell of straw and musk filling your senses. Keigo steps in close, the heat radiating off his body sending shivers down your spine.

“Listen here, pretty little birdie,” he drawls, his lips pulling back in a smirk, “but I may just have to take you up on that offer.”

Wait, what?

“What the hell, Keigo? Where is this coming from?” you question. It’s not like you’re against him being so damn close, it’s just… unexpected.

“Oh, right, like I’m supposed to pretend that you don’t gawk at me at any chance you get. You’re not very subtle, you know.”

Embarrassment heats up your insides, crawls up your neck. So this bastard is really going to rub it in your face, huh? Seems just like him.

“Then why didn’t you say anything about it before?” you hiss. “If it’s such a problem, don’t stay silent. You’re not the type to let things like that slide.”

“Who said it was problem?”

Keigo: 1 / you: 0

Spluttering, you try to gain control of your whirling emotions. This is not how you were expecting this conversation to go. Actually, you weren’t expecting this conversation at all!

“I know for a fact that you can’t get enough of me,” Keigo continues. “And if I’m being completely honest, I like it. You look so cute when you stare after me, birdie. Then you have the audacity to pretend like nothing happened whenever I catch you.”

“Is that what this is all about?” you huff. “Okay, fine. I admit it. Maybe I watch what you’re doing more than what’s necessary. It’s not my fault you walk around all the time without a shirt on or anything…”

“Normally, I’d say because it’s because I get hot when I’m working, but knowing that you were watching made it all the better.” He winks at you. “Gotta hand out a treat here and there, you know?”

“You really are a clown!” you squeak. Keigo laughs as you weakly shove at his chest. “You’ve been leading me on this entire time? What am I, a joke?”

“Hey now, don’t get ahead of yourself, kid. It’s not my fault you couldn’t come up to me like a civilized adult.”

Okay, now you’re fuming. “Keigo, you fucking idiot-“

Swooping in, Keigo cuts you off with a kiss. Unsurprisingly, his lips are soft; he tastes like citrus and salt, and before you know it, you’re looping your arms around his neck, knocking his hat off in the process. A huff of laughter fans across your lips as Keigo pulls back, his mouth hovering over yours. “Shit, I’ve been wanting to do that ever since your pretty ass sat at the kitchen table for the first time.”

You sigh. “You really do have a bird brain…”

You kiss him, again and again. Perhaps you should be ashamed that you have your tongue shoved down somebody’s throat rather than working, but there’s no way you’re stopping now. Like him, you’ve been waiting for this moment. The two of you have been tiptoeing around each other, rolling the tension back and forth like a goddamn snowball.

But fuck if it doesn’t feel good.

His hands aren’t shy, not in the slightest. Fingertips map out the ridges and dips of your body, seek out the spots that really make you tick. You bite back a giggle as he drops his mouth down your neck, the scruff covering his jawline tickling your skin. Your own hands trail over his body, tracing over the hard lines of muscle that hide beneath his clothes. Time and time again, whenever you’d see him without a shirt, you wanted nothing more than to run your hands all over him. This is your chance, now, and you’d be damned if you didn’t take it.

“Shit, shit, shit, not the wings,” Keigo pants into your neck. The scarlet feathers feel like silk beneath your fingertips; skimming over them, you follow their shape, feel how they get fluffier the closer they are to his shoulders. “Oh, fuck. You know just what you’re doing, huh, birdie? Playing around with me like that. Two can play at that game.”

Another grunt slips from your lips as he pushes you against the wall, harder this time. His hands shamelessly drift underneath your shirt, warm palms sliding over your skin. Your shirt comes off before you know it, being unceremoniously thrown to the ground.

“Fuck, birdie, aren’t a pretty one,” Keigo purrs, his nose bumping against your throat as he sucks another mark into your flesh. “I bet you’re real pretty down here, too…” Making quick work of your jeans, he easily slips them down your legs and you eagerly step out of them. “Don’t mind if I do, kid,” he murmurs into your ear before nipping at the lobe.

A weak moan breaks from your throat as a hand slips into your underwear and cups your sex. His hand is just so warm, and the roughness of his callouses causes your head to spin. Within no time, wet, sinful noises sound from between your legs, mixing with your heavy breaths and Keigo’s encouraging words.

“Yeah, you like that, birdie? My fingers feel good, huh? Wait until you get a feel of my cock.”

Spurred on by his words, you hastily unbutton his shirt, pushing the fabric to the side and running your hands over the swell of his pectorals, the ridges of his abdomen. A faint dusting of blond hairs covers his chest and arms; and, if you look close enough, more sticks out from the waistband of his jeans. Keigo hums as you continue to feel him up, his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek.

“Like what you see? I bet you’ve been wanting to do this for a long time… Fuck! Not going to go easy on me, huh? I like someone who can bite back.”

“Has anybody ever told you that you talk too much?” you breathe. Fingers wrapped around his cock, your movements catch up to his in speed. “You should consider yourself lucky that I like your voice.”

“Oohoohoo, feisty. That mouth of yours is saying a lot of mean things today, isn’t it? Guess I’ll have to put you in your place.” He pauses, swipes his tongue over his bottom lip. “But, if I’m being entirely too honest, I don’t think I have the patience for that.”

“Keigo,” you pant, “I swear to Christ if you don’t fuck me right now-“

“On it, on it. Don’t get your panties in a twist, your majesty.” In hurried movements, he strips you of your underwear and shucks his chaps and jeans down. Large hands grip onto your thighs and then you’re being hoisted up, sandwiched between his rigid body and the wall. “Why, won’t you feel that,” he purrs, “I’d say it’s high noon.”

“Don’t talk about your dick like that, you dork,” you scoff. “Oh, fuck.” Another pleasured noise slips through your lips as you grind down against him, his cock just barely teasing your hole.

“What was that, birdie? You know what they say – sweetie on the farm, a freak in the barn.”

“You’re anything but sweet. Just – Keigo, please?”

“Alright, I get it, enough teasing.” Adjusting his hold on you, he flashes you a tiny smile. “Hold on, partner.”

A choked groan breaks free from your throat as his cock slides in, your velvety walls sucking him in greedily. That damned smirk of his stays on his face the entire time he fucks you, along with that devious glint in his eyes. His façade only cracks after you start stroking his wings and squeeze around his cock; if he wants to act like a cocky son of a bitch, then so can you.

“Shit, you’re fucking tight,” he pants. The smack of skin against skin fills your ears, right alongside Keigo’s breathy moans and muttered words. “Keep squeezing like that, birdie, and you’re gonna make me cum quicker than I want to.”

“You almost sound like that’s exactly what you want me to do,” you breathe. “A cowboy like you has got to have some stamina, right? Don’t tell me all of that work goes to nothing.”

“Jesus, and you called me talkative. Fuck, I can’t wait to shove my cock down your throat and shut you the hell up – I said don’t squeeze like that, holy hell. Dirty little head you got there, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you mumble, yanking him back into a kiss. Keigo only moans loudly as you continue to play with his wings, quickly finding out that the spot where they protrude from his flesh is the most sensitive.

“Milk my cock, birdie,” he mutters between broken kisses. “You’re so fucking good to me, oh yeah. I should’ve done this weeks ago.” A startled squeak bursts from your throat as he abruptly strikes your ass. Sucking air through his teeth, he does it again, relishing in the desperate noises spilling from your mouth. “That’s right, birdie. Come on, make me cum. I’m gonna cum so fucking hard for you, fill you up until your belly’s bloated.”

“Keigo-“  You moan as his hand drops down, fingers furiously rubbing at your sex.

“That’s right, say my name. Let the whole fucking world know who’s fucking you this good.”

“Keigo-“

Smack.

“KEIGO!”

The knot building up inside you snaps; with a cry, you cling even closer to him, your velvety walls spasming around his thick cock as you cum.

Slamming a hand against the wall, Keigo fucks into you harder, faster, the wet noises sounding from between your legs almost deafening. “Oh fuck yeah, oh fuck yeah, oh fuck, fuck, fuck – ah- ah- ugghnn…” Burying his face in your neck, his hips erratically jerk as warmth fills your insides. “Still… cumming… fuccckkk…”

Your eyes flutter as he shallowly thrusts into you, the sinful squelch of his cum leaking out around his cock filling your ears. Slowly, he comes to a stop, his hot breath fanning over your neck and the side of your face. Gingerly, you let him go, completely unaware that your fingernails had dug into him in the first place.

“Well,” he starts, lifting his head and flicking away sweaty strands of hair, “that was eventful, wasn’t it?”

You scoff. “Tell me why I like you again…?”

“Oh, darling,” he drawls, leaning in and pecking the corner of your mouth. “I don’t think you like me. I think you love me. You aren’t very subtle.” He laughs as you smack him on the chest.

“Okay, fine. You’re lucky I love you, bird brain. Don’t go rubbing it in.”

“Silly birdie,” Keigo hums, his face scrunching into that wonderful smile of his. “I may just love you too.”

Wait, seriously?

“And no, I’m not joking or being an ass,” he continues, as if reading your mind. “What’s it called? Love at first sight? I dunno, seems like cheesy bullshit to me, but I… I like the appeal of it. It sounds nice when you’re involved.”

Your heart thumps against your chest.

Oh, fuck.

[alisonsfics]

20 Questions

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Reader

Summary: “Howdy there! I wanted to request a cute imagine with Derek. The basic idea is that they're playing 20 questions or something and it gets really personal and cute and they express their feelings for each other.” - @dirty-pan-goblin

Word Count: 2.2k

“So now the wait begins” you said, leaning back into your seat.

You and Derek were on a stakeout outside of a suspect's house. You were both sitting in the SUV, just waiting. “I know a way we could pass the time” Derek said, smirking at you.

You cursed yourself because the first place your mind went was somewhere dirty. You couldn’t be blamed for that though, Derek Morgan was like most attractive man you had ever seen. So maybe you had developed a crush on your coworker, so what?

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?” You asked him, looking over into his eyes. “20 questions?” He suggested. You thought about it for a second. You thought about the possible risks of playing this game with him. The benefits outweighed the risks, and besides you were really going to be bored if you didn’t play.

“Alright, I’m down. Hit me” you told him, embracing the challenge. “Okay, I’ll start easy. What was your first impression of me?” He asked you, curiously.

You thought back to your first day at the BAU. It had been a few years, then it all came back to you.

“Well I remember I walked into Quantico on my first day, and I was so lost. I was trying to find Hotch’s office, but I had no idea where it was. Then, I bumped into you and you asked if I needed help, and you showed me where to go. I remember thinking that you seemed like just a really good guy, like someone you could always rely on” you told him, smiling. Even on your first day, you felt like a school girl again when you were around Derek.

“So how does that first impression measure up to how you know me know?” Derek asked you, smirking. “Nope, only one question allowed. My turn. What is your ideal first date?” You asked him, raising your eyebrows.

“Nothing super fancy, maybe just seeing a movie or making dinner together. But like my absolute perfect date would be going to a carnival together” he told you, honestly.

“Who knew that you were such a romantic” you teased him. You were starting to get nervous, now that you guys were talking about dates. What if Derek asked you if you had your eyes on anyone?

“What do you value more, platonic relationships or romantic relationships?” He asked you, smirking. “Well if you’re doing it right, I think your significant other should also be like your best friend. I mean, you shouldn’t like ditch your friends because you like some guy. But you significant other should be someone you would be friends with, if you weren’t romantically attracted to them” you said, being completely honest.

“You are such a hopeless romantic, of course you would say that” Derek said, laughing and placing his hand on your forearm for a second. You felt the heat rush to your cheeks. “You asked, don’t judge my answer” you said, sticking your tongue out at him and giggling.

“No judgement here, so what else do you want to know?” He asked you, giving you that million dollar smile. “What’s your favorite thing about me?” You asked him, giggling to yourself.

“Well that’s hard, you’re kind of a horrible person” Derek joked, chuckling. Your jaw dropped and you hit his arm, offended. “I cannot believe you, you are so rude! Give me a good answer” you said, pretending to pout.

“Probably how compassionate you are. You always make everyone feel supported, whether that’s victims or their families or even the rest of the team. You always know just how to comfort someone” he told you, giving you a small smile. “Awww Derek, you bit softie” you said, leaning your head on his shoulder.

You were touched that he thought so highly of you. It’s really nice to get a compliment, every now and then. Especially from the guy you were head over heels for.

You picked your head back up and looked at him, waiting for your question.

“Have you ever been in love?” He asked you, sincerely. You thought about your answer for a second. “Yes, I’m somebody who falls in love really easily. I wear my heart on my sleeve and sometimes that’s been bad and sometimes it’s good. What about you?” you told him, honestly.

“Once for sure, and then I kind of put up walls to protect my heart. I haven’t been truly in love since then. But I’m open to it and I don’t think it’s impossible, especially with the right person” he told you, looking into your eyes. For a split second, there was a certain sparkle in his eyes. When he mentioned the right person, it felt like he was talking about you.

You felt absolutely crazy for thinking he could be talking about you. There was no way, right?

“So are you currently in love?” Derek asked you, and you saw the same twinkle. “No, but there’s someone who I could see myself falling in love with” you told him, hoping he would get the hints.

“Can I ask a follow up question?” Derek asked, smirking at you. “Of course” you told him, smiling. “Am I that person?” He asked you, and you felt the butterflies in your stomach.

Then you saw the unsub come out of his house. “Derek look” you said, pointing towards the house. He looked away from you and towards the direction you were pointing. “Hotch, we got him. Y/N and I are going after him” Derek said, over the microphone.

You both jumped out of the SUV and pulled out your guns. “Daniel Sullivan, put your hands in the air” Derek called out, as you both pointed your guns at him.

The man saw you both and froze, and then he turned around and started running. “You still have to answer the question, when we’re done, Y/N” Derek said, as he started to chase the unsub.

“I’m going to cut him off in the alley” you told Derek, and then started running.

You made it to the alley and you could hear the unsub running. You could tell he was about to run out in front of you. You stopped and waited til he got closer. Then, at exactly the time, you kicked you leg out. Successfully knocking the unsub off of his feet.

“Nice one, L/N” Derek said to you, holding up his hand for a high five. You smiled and hit his hand, but Derek closed his hand so that your fingers were interlaced. He just smirked at you. You giggled to yourself and then pulled your hand away.

You grabbed the handcuffs off your belt and locked them around the wrists of the unsub. By then, the local police had arrived. One of the officers took the unsub from you, and transported him to the station.

“Come on, let’s go” Derek said, putting his arm around your shoulders. You both walked back to the SUV. You saw the rest of the team waiting there.

“The police just started to check the house, but they already found the victims. They’re safe” Hotch told you two. “That’s a relief” you said, sighing.

“We’re going to meet back at the police station, we’ll see you two there?” Rossi asked you both, smirking. You tried to ignore the smirk and just nodded your head. “Yeah, we’ll be there” Derek told him.

The rest of the team got in their SUV and left the scene. You started to walk towards the SUV. “Woah woah woah, you’re not getting off that easy, babygirl” Derek said, grabbing your hand and pulling you back towards him.

“What?” You asked, pretending to be clueless. “Listen, if you were talking about somebody else, that’s fine. We can both move on and be the good friends that we’ve always been. But, if you were talking about me, just tell me. Because I think you are amazing and one of the kindest and bravest people I’ve ever met. But I just need to know” he told you, honestly.

You looked down, not knowing what to say. Derek was still holding your hand in his and you could feel your cheeks heat up. Of course he was the person you were talking about, but you didn’t know how to tell him that.

But, Derek interpreted your hesitance as rejection. You saw a look of hurt in his eyes, as he slowly pulled his hand away. “I— I’m sorry that I asked” he said, starting to walk away.

“No, Derek wait!” You called out, not wanting to hurt him. He turned to face you. “You don’t have to apologize for how you feel, I understand” he told you, but he just looked like he was in pain.

“Two years, four months, and six days” you told him, only thinking of one way to tell him how you felt. Derek looked confused, to say the least. “You gotta help me out, L/N” he said, asking what you meant.

“That’s how long it’s been since I fell for you. It was the first time that your eyes sparkled when I looked at you, and the first time that I got butterflies when you called me babygirl” you told him, with a smile on your face. He started to walk back towards you, slowly.

“Are you saying?” He asked you, almost not believing it. “Yes Derek, you’re the person I was talking about. You are the most caring person I know. Any time that I’m ever feeling down, you always make sure I know that you’re always there for me. You are selfless and compassionate and the only person I never get sick of talking to” you told him, honestly.

Derek closed the distance between the two of you and cupped your face. He leaned in and kissed your lips. It felt magical.

You rested your hands on his forearms and kissed him back, with all the love you had in you. It felt like it the years of pent up feelings, were poured into this kiss.

And just before the kiss could become too heated for being in public, you pulled away. The smile on Derek’s face was contagious.

You both looked a young, teen couple. You both had the biggest smiles on your faces, and expressions of pure bliss.

“I’m glad I asked you to play 20 questions with me” Derek said, truthfully. “Yeah, so am I” you said, kissing his cheek. He moved his hands from cupping your face to wrap around your waist.

“We should probably get back to the station, before the team starts to get suspicious” Derek told you, looking into your eyes. You giggled to yourself, knowing that the whole team was definitely already aware of crushes the two of you had. They always knew.

“Yeah, I guess duty calls” you said, as you both pulled away and walked to the car. You both drove back to the police station and Derek’s hand didn’t leave your thigh for the whole ride.

When you both pulled into the police station, you both got out of the car and walked inside. You were both met by Spencer standing right in front of you.

He looked like he was trying to say something. “What’s up, pretty boy” Derek asked him, curiously. “Rossi and Emily told me to ask if you two were dating. They figured you two would be most likely to tell me the truth out of everyone” Spencer told you.

You both laughed, that sounded exactly like something Emily and Rossi would do. “Come on Reid, let’s go talk to them” you said, starting to walk towards the room where the BAU was set up in. Both Spencer and Derek followed you.

“Hey” Emily said, when the three of you walked in. “Are you using precious, little Dr.Reid to spy on us?” You asked, leaning into Spencer’s side. “I have no idea what you’re talking about” Emily lied.

“So I guess if Derek and I were together, you wouldn’t care?” You teased Emily. “Wait! You two ARE together? I was right” Emily said, cheering for herself. Then, Rossi took out his wallet and handed Emily a twenty dollar bill.

“Were you two betting on us?” Derek asked them, shocked. “Nope, not all” they both said, in unison. “Reid?” You asked, looking over at Spencer. “They had a bet going about how long it would take you two to start dating” Spencer said, truthfully.

“Spencer” they both groaned in frustration. “I can’t believe you were betting on us” Derek said, chuckling. “Are you kidding? That sounds just like something they would do” you said, giggling.

Hotch entered the room and said “It’s time to go, we’re leaving for the airport”. You all got up and got into the SUV’s, to drive to the airport.

Once you were on the jet, Emily pulled you aside and demanded that you tell her every detail of how you and Derek got together. As you were telling the story, you kept glancing up and making eye contact with Derek. He was playing chess against Spencer, and losing badly.

Every time you two made eye contact, he would wink at you or wave. And every time, it left a smile on your face.

You had worried about how dating Derek would affect the relationship of the team. But now, you had no doubt that nothing would change or be awkward.

taglist: @reniescarlett @thelovelyrose @shyinadarkplace @azghedaheda @meowiemari @millipop18 @airiloveskuromi-chan @k-k0129 @ssareidbby

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character!!

Requests OPEN

[xpao-bearx]

《Original post here》

Part 2 HERE

SUMMARY: [Supernatural TWD AU] In which Negan is a kinky incubus, Rick Grimes is your secret guardian angel, and Daryl Dixon is a gruff monster/demon hunter. Three drastically different men who can only agree on one thing: making you theirs.

PAIRINGS: Reader x Negan, Reader x Rick Grimes, Reader x Daryl Dixon (Polyamorous Ships)

RATING: Mature/18+/Romance & Smut. Please be prepared and do NOT report.

NOTE: This is actually my first time ever writing an xReader story series as well as writing on Tumblr (I usually only write on Wattpad). As such, it probs won't be perfect though I would SERIOUSLY appreciate your *respectful* feedback and support!

I understand writing xReader content can get a lil tricky, so please just keep in mind that not everything Y/N says or does would be something that you'd do IRL or even approve of. Also, sometimes I may not help but put a teeny bit of myself in Y/N...

Lastly, I recently got back into the TWD fandom after a looong ass time and I'm taking a while re-watching the whole show. So I apologize in advance if my portrayal of any of the characters are rusty or I may not remember too much of the events from the show, but I promise to do my very best and hope y'all enjoy~!! \(^o^)/

DEDICATED TO: The wonderful @blccdyknuckles and @negans-attagirl 💖

"Heavenly Sins"

Part 1

The sounds of laughter and easygoing chatter filled your ears as you walked closer to the church, a light breeze blowing through your F/C floral dress and the sun blinding your eyes. It was Sunday, most residents of the small town of Alexandria having gathered for mass.

It was a day like any other; peaceful and happy, children giggling and chasing each other around as their parents socialized outside before church could start.

Your heels clacking rhythmically on the pavement, you were just about to enter the building before a familiar voice called out.

"Y/N!"

Spinning, a huge smile instantly reached your ears as you saw none other than Carl Grimes waving enthusiastically at you as he jumped out of a car. From the driver's seat, his father soon followed as he stepped out.

Rick Grimes--dedicated sheriff of this fine town. His usual uniform forgone, instead replaced with a casual navy coloured suit. His baby blues met your E/C, flashing you a bright smile of his own that rivalled the sun itself.

Carl was running towards you now, and once in front he gave you a big hug.

"Settle down, cowboy! It's as if you haven't seen me in forever." You chuckled, ruffling Carl's hair affectionately.

"That's 'cause it did feel like forever." Carl pouted, eventually letting go as he looked up at you.

Before you can reply, Rick patted Carl's head and greeted you. "Hey, Y/N. How are things?" He asked in that endearing Southern accent of his.

"Just fine." You nodded, grinning before you couldn't help but let your gaze wander around a bit. "No Judith?"

It was then that Rick's smile faltered, but just barely. You nearly didn't catch it. "No. She's with her mom."

Rick was divorced from his ex-wife, Lori, after he discovered her cheating on him with his also now ex-bestfriend Shane Walsh. After the divorce, Shane and Lori quickly moved to the neighbouring community of Woodbury together and agreed on joint custody of the kids.

It really made your blood boil; you've interacted with Lori only a few times before so you didn't really have much of an opinion on her...that is, until, you learned what had happened between her and Rick. You knew it wasn't any of your business, but you cared about Rick a lot and he sure as hell didn't deserve to get cheated on.

"Oh." Was all you could say, quite stupidly. Your cheeks reddened, mentally slapping yourself before clearing your throat. "Will I see her in the daycare tomorrow, though?" You were a daycare teacher and even though you loved all of the kids, Judith was your favourite. She was simply such a sweetheart.

Rick nodded, his smile softening. "You got it."

You couldn't continue the conversation as the bells rang, making you jump out of your skin. Carl, noticing this, laughed which made you playfully roll your eyes before slinging an arm around him as all of you went inside.

♡♡♡

You took your place near the back of the church with Carl and Rick. Once everyone was settled and done singing, the service began and Father Gabriel stood on top of the podium. A few minutes into his sermon, the interruption of a motorcycle revving loudly outside sliced through the air. Gabriel flinched in surprise, and it was obvious he was desperately trying to keep his cool. Finally, when it was silent again, you found yourself biting back a smile knowing all too well who had caused the ruckus.

It seems Rick knew, too, judging from how his jaw clenched and his hands turned into tight fists.

The doors were thrown open, making Gabriel flinch once more and some of the congregation turning in the pews to look. But poor Gabriel quickly fumbled with his Bible, raising his voice just a tad to regain their attention.

There was a low whistle accompanying the approaching footsteps, but the congregation did their damn hardest to ignore the latest visitor.

"Damn... I assumed the church would be a lot more welcoming than this." A husky voice whispered, and you at last couldn't hold back as a smile broke through.

"Negan." You whispered back, turning slightly in your seat to see he has taken the spot behind you. His leather clad arms lackadaisically resting on your chair, the musky scent of his cologne invading your senses oh so wonderfully. "Fancy seeing you here."

"What? Is it really that surprising, darlin'?" He grinned, presenting a row of perfectly straight white teeth. "I go to church."

"Not all the time." You pointed out.

"Ah..." He chuckled softly, hazel eyes twinkling. "That's 'cause Father Creepy McGee over there is just that. Creepy. As. Shit."

You bit the inside of your cheeks, suppressing your laughter. True, Gabriel did have his moments, but he wasn't that bad. That didn't change the fact that Negan knew exactly how to tickle your funny bone, though.

He was new to Alexandria. It was a lovely town, but since it was relatively small not a lot of people want to move here not unless it was families looking for their children to grow up in a safe environment. Which was why it was quite a shock to find out that a single man like Negan chose this destination, and even more so when he took everyone aback with his infamous pottymouth and rather inappropriate charisma.

He had moved just a couple of houses down from yours, and you made it your mission to befriend him. Right from the get-go, he had piqued your interest and curiousity. He was different from everyone else--even possessing an air of mystery about him--and that definitely intrigued you. And also, perhaps you were just too nice and didn't want him to feel outcasted. Although, that didn't seem like an issue to him at all.

"Want one?" You were brought back to reality when you saw Negan's hand outstretched with a pack of cigarettes.

"Dude, we're in church." You reprimanded, frowning.

Negan didn't say anything, only cocking a brow and still with that same shit-eating grin. You sighed, finally giving in as you swiftly grabbed one and stashed it away in your purse for later.

"Y/N." You turned to the left, Rick's icy gaze piercing you. "Pay attention."

"R-Right. Sorry..." You mumbled sheepishly.

Carl, who was sitting in the middle of you and Rick, had dozed off. Rick nudged him, but the brunette only groaned softly and snuggled into Rick's chest. Defeated, the sheriff sighed and was just about to listen again to Gabriel before Negan cut in.

"Rick!" Negan purposely raised his voice, knowing it would get a rise out of the other man. "Didn't even see ya there. Howdy, cowboy!"

Rick grimaced, and it looked like he was just going to ignore Negan though he knew that if he did that then Negan would just irritate him even further. "Good to see you, Negan." He forced himself to say.

"Only you can say that while giving me such a deadly side eye, Grimes." Negan snickered. "How have you been? How's the wife?"

Rick flushed, his fists in a tight ball again and it looked like his nails would be digging into his skin. You abruptly swung into action, placing a hand on Rick's own.

"Rick..." You said gently. "It's okay. Calm down."

Rick did, his shoulders drooping as if a heavy weight had been lifted. He can barely pay any attention to Gabriel now, then you suddenly stood up and grabbed Negan's arm.

"We need to talk. Now."

"What, we going for a quickie?" Negan smirked, but that soon faded when he saw your serious expression. He sighed dramatically, reaching his full height as he towered over you before following you out.

At this point, you didn't care if people saw what transpired or would even start gossiping. No one, not even Negan, was allowed to harass Rick. He has helped you through so much shit--more than you'd like to admit--and you at least owed him this much.

Once outside, next to where Negan parked his motorcycle, you exploded. "What the fuck is with you?! You leave Rick alone, or I swear to fucking Christ I will--"

"Woah, woah, woah! Hold your horses, missy!" Negan guffawed, his hands up in mock surrender. "I mean, I like 'em feisty, but goddamn! Watch your fucking language."

"Tch. You're one to talk."

"Did you just scoff at me?" He raised his brows, putting his hands in his pockets as he slowly drew closer to you. A devilish grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, tilting his head slightly. "No one's ever fucking scoffed at me and didn't regret it soon after."

You frowned, letting out a huff as you met his gaze challengingly. "As if you'd do anything to me."

He was silent for several moments before chuckling, leaning back against his motorcycle. "You're right. I have too much of a soft spot for ya." He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it then taking a drag. He drew his head upwards, puffing out the smoke. "Whaddya say we just forgive and forget? I truly am sorry. You can even tell Rick that I am metaphorically down on my goddamn knees begging for forgiveness~"

"I'm not forgiving or forgetting anything until you actually face Rick and apologize yourself." You muttered. And without another word, you spun on your heel and strutted back inside the church with your head held high.

Negan's intent stare lingered where your ass had just been, taking another long drag and letting out a small laugh to himself.

His eyes suddenly glowed a crimson red, a smirk playing on his lips.

Oh, he really did pick a GREAT one.

[you-a-southpaw-doll]

Lovin’ Him - A Negan!AU Story ~ Chapter 2

Story Title: Lovin’ Him - A Negan!AU Story

Story Summary: When high school student Leigh Sullivan feels like the world is against her, and she’s prepared to end it all, there’s only one other person in the world who could save her from herself. Her best friend, neighbor, love of her life, current United States Marine, and even bus driver, Negan Morgan. But what if even his love isn’t enough? Will Negan be the one to save Leigh, or will it be too late? If it is not, what will come of Leigh and Negan? Will they stay best friends and maybe become more? Or, will the strain of Negan trying to save Leigh become too much for their long-lasting friendship, and it’ll all come tumbling down?

Chapter Summary: Negan and Leigh goof off before the bus ride home. Leigh may or may not miss her stop. There may or may not be a dinner between the two! ;) 

Word Count: 1,978

Warning(s): Explicit language. Caring Negan. Loving Negan. Slight angst. Fluff - LOTS of Fluff.  Somewhat of a slow burn? Eventual relationship. Hella teasing. Negan’s very sneaky and naughty in a good way. Teacher x student relationship – The reader is of legal age, and Negan’s a bus driver. NO Zombie Apocalypse.

Author’s Note(s): Here’s the second chapter! If y’all have any questions, feel free to message me! Also, if you wanna be tagged for future stories, just shoot me a message and I’ll be sure to add you!

Relationship(s): Negan x Leigh Sullivan (OFC)

Characters: Negan. Leigh Sullivan (OFC). (More characters will be added as the story continues.)

Taglist: @negans-network​ @thamberlina​ @prettyboynegan​ @mychemicalimagines​ @spnnnxangelsx​ @rockinkel21​ @misskittycat02​ @band--psycho​–psycho @ofxallxwexlost​ @iron-halt​ @thamberlinawrites​ @ravenwings73​ @lettherebepink​ @stoneyggirl​

___________________________________________________________________

Chapter 2: That Afternoon

I climb the steps of the bus. He’s not sitting in his seat. I wonder where he is. Nobody else is on the bus. I head to the back to take my usual seat in the last seat on the left side. I set my bag down on the floor. I look up as the bus shakes a little bit. 

I smile as soon as I see him. He looks mighty fine in his forest green skivvy shirt from being in the Marines and his tight Wranglers. Damn. That man can make some clothes look hot as hell. Even his black cowboy boots look hot on him. I’m kind of glad that he doesn’t have his ball cap on today. 

He has his back to me. I run up the aisle and wrap my arms ‘round his midsection. He jumps and turns ‘round. He smiles when he sees that it’s me.

 “Howdy, darlin’. What are you doing?” He asks, as his arms make their way ‘round me.

“Just got on the bus. What are you doing?” I ask.

He takes a slight step back away from me, dropping his arms to his sides. I realize why a second later. There’s another student heading to the bus. Negan gives me a sad smile as he stands away from me. He leans one knee on his seat, crosses his arms so that they’re resting on the top of the seat, and looks at me. 

I slide into the seat right behind his. The kid gets on the bus and, not paying any attention to Negan and I, sits in the back.

Negan leans closer to me, and whispers in my ear. “Why don’t you come fuckin’ sit up here this afternoon?”

“You really want me to?” I ask.

He nods and smiles. “Of course I fuckin’ do. That way I can talk to you.”

I smile. “Alright. Let me go get my stuff. I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time, darlin’.”

I head to the back of the bus, and grab my stuff. The kid that’s on the bus is already asleep with his headphones on. I head back to the front of the bus, and set my stuff on the floor in front of the seat I’m gonna be sitting in. Negan’s still kneeling in his seat like he was when I left him a minute ago. 

He smiles at me as I stand in front of him. The back of his seat, and the divider in front of me, separate the two of us.

“So. How was your day?” He asks.

“Absolutely positively freaking boring.” I say. “Yours?”

“It could’ve been fuckin’ better. Although, this morning was probably the best part of my day. Well, with the exception of right now, that is.”

“What could’ve possibly made your morning and right now so good for you?”

“Well…um…getting to hang out with my best friend.”

“Oh ok.”

I look down. I was kinda hoping he’d say talking to me or something, but I guess not. I feel two fingers against my chin, and I know exactly who’s touching me based on the tingle that goes through my body at his touch. He slowly lifts my head up so that I’m looking at him.

“You do realize that you’re my best fuckin’ friend, right?” Negan asks.

“You’re serious?” I ask.

He nods. “I’m dead fuckin’  serious.”

“So…wait…let me get this straight, ok?”

“Ok.”

“I’m your best friend. And hanging out with me made your morning and this afternoon the best parts of your day.”

He nods. “Seems ‘bout right to me. Why?”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Why don’t you believe it, darlin’?”

I shrug. “I’m nobody’s friend, and I don’t see how I could make anyone’s day better. Normally, I just mess it up; not make it better.”

He gets a sad look in his eyes. He drops his fingers from my chin, and lays his hand on the seat right beside my arm. His fingers slide over slightly so that they’re brushing my elbow and forearm. I realize why he does what he does. More and more kids are getting on the bus. 

Even though everyone knows that Negan and I are friends, rumors could get started really easily. I mean, it is high school after all. I might be nineteen, but Negan is twenty-five. Not that his age matters to me. It never has; it doesn’t define him. 

Age is but a number, and he is my best friend. I just wouldn’t want him to get fired because some student said something that was completely wrong ‘bout him and I.

“Leigh. We’ll talk ‘bout this later, ok? Right now, why don’t we talk ‘bout something different? I hate to see you hurting, and beating yourself up like this.” Negan says, quietly.

I nod my head. “If you want to. Um…what do you want to talk ‘bout?”

“Why don’t you tell me ‘bout your day?”

“Um. Ok. I guess. What do you want to know?”

“What was the best fuckin’ part of it?”

I blush. “You really wanna know?”

He nods. “I sure as shit do.”

“Seeing you act like an adorable little boy when I gave you your Christmas present.”

He laughs. “Alright. Although, you do know I’m not a little boy, right?”

I blush. “I do. Believe me, I know that you’re all man.”

He sucks in a deep breath, and his fingers continue to move along my arm. He lays his head on his arm that’s resting on the back of his seat. He gazes at me. His eyes twinkle with some akin to amusement, happiness, and something else I can’t quite place.

“Alright. So…that was the best part of your day. Is there another part that was really good? Or was it just one of those days?” He asks.

“Well…there was one other part that made my day.” I reply, grinning.

“Oh really? And was what that?”

“Getting to talk to you and hang out with you.”

He smiles. “Serious?”

“Without a doubt.”

His grin gets even bigger.

“Mr. Morgan! It’s time to go!” A kid from middle school shouts from the middle of the bus.

Negan sighs, and looks at his watch. Yep, the one I made him.

“I’ve still got another minute before it’s time to pull out.” He mutters.

He looks up at me, and gives me a smirk. He wiggles his eyebrows before turning ‘round and sitting in his seat. He reaches over and grabs the handle to pull the door shut. I watch as his muscles move beneath his shirt. As he moves his arm, his t-shirt sleeve rises up and I get to see his tattoo. 

It’s just a simple American flag with a cross behind it and a Confederate flag, the Stars and Bars, right below it. It’s some really nice ink. He’s explained the importance of each aspect to the tattoo to me before. He has the American flag because a) he’s American and b) he’s in the military. 

Does he really need another reason to have an American flag tattoo? He has the Confederate flag because a) he’s from the South and b) he loves the Civil War and the Confederacy. He’s a history buff like me, and the Civil War is his favorite part of American history. 

Not because he supports slavery or anything. No. It’s because he respects the fact that the Southerners stood up for what they believed in. Granted those beliefs may not have been right, but the Southerners still fought for those beliefs. 

Plus, the South was also fighting for each state’s rights. The South had felt as if it weren’t being acknowledged by the North and was being taken advantage of due to the crops and other agriculture. Anyway, back to Negan’s tattoo. He has the cross because he is a Christian, but mainly because he had to truly rely on God to get him through one situation while he was overseas a couple years ago.

He pulls the handle close to him until it locks into place. He reaches back behind him for his seatbelt and buckles up. He tilts the sun visor down. He glances up in the rearview mirror. I catch his gaze. He smiles and wiggles his eyebrows. 

I laugh. He just chuckles and cranks the engine of the bus. After he does that, he waits for the other buses to pull out before him so that he can. I talk to him as he does his run. Eventually, he gets so focused on driving the bus, and dropping the kids off, that we just stop talking. 

But that’s ok. I know he’s doing his job. Since he and I aren’t talking at the moment, I sit down in my seat. I curl up in the seat, and close my eyes. Since I’m the last person to get off the bus, I still have another hour and a half bus ride.

I can take a nap. I doze off thinking ‘bout the man sitting in front of me.

***

I wake up sometime later to the bus being stopped, and the engine turning off. I hear the clank of metal against metal and realize that Negan’s taking his seatbelt off. I slowly sit up and rub the sleep out of my eyes. I look ‘round and realize that we’re back at school. 

I look at Negan, who is busy looking down at something in his lap.

“Um…Negan?” I ask.

Negan jumps in his seat, and stands up. He looks at me, and relaxes once he realizes that it’s me. He kneels on his seat like he did earlier this afternoon.

“Hey, darlin’. I hate to fuckin’ say it, but I forgot you were on here. I’m sorry.” He says.

“It’s fine. I’ll walk home.” I say, gathering my stuff.

“No. I’ll drive you home. There ain’t no fuckin’ way on God’s green Earth that I’m gonna let you fuckin’ walk all the way home. That’s a two-hour bus ride. That’s like a four-hour walk.”

“I don’t wanna be a burden to you. I’m fine to walk.”

Negan moves so that he’s standing closer to me. He pulls me into his arms. I drop my stuff, and put my arms ‘round him. I lay my head against his chest.

“Darlin’, you’re never a burden to me. Don’t ever think that ‘bout yourself. Besides, you’re my neighbor, so it’s not like I’m driving to fuckin’ Kalamazoo and back just to take you home.” He says.

I laugh. “Ok. You’ve got a point. But only if you’re sure.”

“Sure on which part?”

“Sure on everything.”

“Darlin’, I’m one hundred and twenty-five percent sure that you’re not a burden to me. You could never be one. You’re too damn special to ever be a burden to me. I’m a hundred and twenty-seven point seven five percent sure that I don’t mind taking you home. I’ve actually kinda wanted to take you home for a while now. It means that I get to spend more fuckin’ time with you.”

 I lift my head up off his chest and look at him. He looks dead serious like he’s not joking with me. In fact, he even looks a little nervous.

“C’mon, darlin’. Say something. Please. I’m sort of nervous here.” He says.

I tighten my arms ‘round him even more and give him a big ole hug.

“Darlin’?” He asks.

“You’re special to me too, and I really enjoy spending time with you.” I say, quietly.

He smiles at me. “So…you’re cool if I take you home?”

“Yea. If you’re cool with taking me home.” I blush slightly, hoping he doesn’t notice.

“Of course I am. Although, I’m starving. Do you care if we stop on the way home to get some food?”

“Um…sure. You’re the one driving.”