#assume the trip is too short for me to worry about it

[2tarbell]

does twee have a job??? i know you mentioned her being pogue turned kook, im wondering if she’s kept a job she had as a pogue 🤭….

TWEE!READER who is a cart girl! she started the job right before her father came into money and wanted to keep it. mainly because she misses the pogue lifestyle and working makes her feel less guilty about now living in a nice house.

she receives a lot of tips because the players think she’s the cutest thing! rambunctious and teasing, having inside jokes with all the members. in her little cart girl uniform, tight polo and pleated skirt. her striped socks and maryjane’s. hair always done up in some cute style. she’s a natural born people pleaser and can happily stay afloat in the midst of these golf playing men. but only because she doesn’t entertain their foul intentions, too naive to assume anything bad.

but she actually met rafe after her shift ended, parking the cart back in its ‘home’ and gathering her things. he’s just leaving when he passes her by, having been in the carolina sun all day golfing with his boys. they’ve since left and he found himself lingering just a bit more, hoping to catch that cute cart girl he saw at the ninth hole.

he’s handsome, that’s the first thing she notices. and her mind races, hoping to maybe see him on her shift tomorrow. the daydreaming causes her to trip. thankfully, she caught herself before eating shit, not without attracting the attention of the cameron boy, though. his hands shooting out to her shoulders and steadying her.

“you good?”

she smiles sheepishly, smoothing down her hair. twee nods and looks down at her shoes, frowning at the scuff on the leather of her new shoes. goddamnit. when she looks up at him again, eyes squinting in the setting sun, rafe feels his own smile twitching at the corner of his lips.

“sorry— was just… thinking…” she trails off slightly.

rafe actually huffs out a laugh, and she becomes more embarrassed than before. her grimace makes his grin soften.

“don’t worry ‘bout it, yeah? s’all good.”

her little grin is adorable and rafe trails his eyes down her body when she turns to retrieve something from her cart. miles of smooth skin disappearing underneath that short skirt, he can just barely see the lace edge of her panties, until her dainty hand reaches back and pulls the skirt down a little.

“glad you caught me then—“

his eyes snap up back to hers when she turns around with what he assumes is her purse, smirking and crossing his arms. her playfulness isn’t lost on rafe and he finds himself reciprocating, flirting.

“oh, so it’s a habit of yours to trip into eligible bachelors?”

she giggles and rafe knows he’s in.

he sets his jaw, noticing her looking up at him through those dark lashes. she leans back against the cart and crosses one ankle over the other. rafe’s eyes are drawn to the movement and trail slowly up her legs. when he meets her eyes again, she has a knowing smile on her cute face.

“bet you, uh, get a lotta these dudes in trouble, huh?”

the way she cocks her head to the side, an innocent gleam in her eyes, makes his shorts feel just that much tighter. her voice is soft and unsure when she replies, “whaddaya mean?”

rafe shrugs, smiling lazily and scratching his ear. “pretty thing like you workin’ here… dunno, ‘m sure it makes it hard to focus on golf…”

her huff paired with an eye roll makes his chest swell. he can see the smile she’s biting back and chuckles, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

“y’know i— i gotta see you somewhere other than here, if you wanna…” he mumbles lowly, holding the device out.

“y’gonna get me fired, rafe…” she teases.

his name has never sounded so good. rafe places his other hand hand over his heart, grinning at the giggle she lets out at his dramatic gesture.

“i promise, kid, swear on m’life. just one date?”

he’s putting on the works, he knows; charming smirk and narrowing eyes. but, twee is just a girl, in every sense of the word. so when she walks off after giving him her number, hundred dollar tip the handsome boy said was ‘all f’you’ tucked into her bra strap and a promise to text him her work schedule, she can’t hide the smile growing on her face.

rafe can’t hide his either, shaking his head and stuffing his phone back in the pocket of his golf shorts. walking out to his truck, he can’t think of anything else but the apple hairclip she was wearing and that little grin that made his heart stutter.

[tasteleeknow]

LIVING IN THE RUINS

minho x fem!reader. 2k words. minors dni. best friends to lovers. soft!minho. angst. fluff. jealousy. emotional hurt/comfort. smut with feelings, in a tent.

“Excuse me?”

You blink at the stranger in front of you. She seems to materialise before your eyes. You’d zoned out again and missed the attention your best friend had clearly been receiving from strangers in the crowded room. “I was wondering if I could get your number?” she asks, eyes fixed on Minho’s. She blinks quickly a few times, her long dark lashes fluttering much like your heart in your chest. 

She hasn’t looked at you once despite your close proximity. You’re so close to the object of her attention in fact, your thigh brushes against Minho’s jeans under the table. 

He shifts beside you, sitting up straighter in the booth. “Oh,” he says, clearly taken off guard as well. “Thank you. I mean that’s — I don’t—” 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asks with a small tilt of her head. 

“No,” Minho answers quickly, incapable of lying. His discomfort radiates off him. You’d spent years learning his emotional tells. “I mean—” 

“He’s not into women,” you interrupt, finally drawing her attention to you. She blinks before her eyes drop down to your chest and back to your eyes, like she’s completely taken aback by your presence. It’s impossible, you know that logically. Still, she puts on a good performance. “Sorry,” you add. 

Her lips curve into an unconvincing smile. “No worries,” she says. “The hot ones never are.” 

The whole exchange is as short as it is ordinary. How many tipsy girls work up the courage to ask the pretty man across the bar for his number? You would bet money on it happening multiple times over somewhere across the planet at any given moment. It’s normal. Mundane. Still, you know it’ll chip a little more of your carefully built wall away. A chisel to stone, slow and steady. The only problem is that it’s been chipped at for years. You can feel the fragility of it these days, each chisel etch feels alot like when you’re down to the end of a game of jenga. 

Any move now will cause it to crash and fall. 

She hadn’t considered for a moment you might have been together — not when she’d spotted him across the room, clearly with you — and not when she’d gotten close and blatantly ignored your comfortable proximity to each other. Her question about his relationship status had been an afterthought, a possibility she hadn’t considered until faced with a response other than ‘yes’. She’d been expecting a yes.

The thought that he might be with you, might be attracted to you, was unconsidered. You wonder if she’d discussed it with her friends. ‘No,’ they might have said. ‘There’s no way he’s with her.’

Minho is quiet as the petite brunette turns on her heels and disappears back into the mass of people. His red ears give his embarrassment away. 

You nudge his shoulder, rocking him out of his trance. “Hey,” you prod. “Alright?” 

The smile he offers you is a little lopsided — very Minho. “Always,” he says. 

—

Your annual camping trip is just like the year before. Your small group of friends sets up camp in your usual spot. Everyone climbs into their usual tents. Everyone assumes you and Minho will be sharing, as always. 

You’re not sure why it hurts so much. They assume that nothing would ever happen between you. None of the other girls share a tent with a guy they aren’t dating. You’re the exception. Because Minho would never want you. 

He notices your low mood later that night. The group separates in the dark to play flashlight tag and as you find yourself wandering a secluded patch of the campsite, you know he knows. His attention is on you instead of where he’s walking. You almost scream when he falls into apparent nothingness. 

“I’m fine,” he quickly reassures you, pulling himself up from the ground. “Just dropped my glasses.” 

“God, you scared me.” 

It takes you both at least ten minutes to find them, relying purely on touch alone. It's too dark to see much at all without a light and using your phones would give your position away. 

You’re grateful for the darkness when you reach up and place his frames gently on his face. It hides the heat in your cheeks when you brush chocolate brown hair behind his ears, ensuring you’ve placed them properly. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, close enough that his breath warms your lips. 

You’re also grateful just to be near him, you realise. Just to know him. You love him. 

You love him. 

It’s an earth shattering realisation to have while playing flashlight tag in the middle of nowhere. You need to escape. You can’t. You’re sharing a tent with him. 

The situation isn’t helped when later in the night one of the girls with big bright eyes and a gentle smile makes a very clear move on him. You were used to it. People loved him. 

You loved him. 

It’s a stupid thing to cause the wall to finally crumble. It’s humiliating really. But when he laughs at something she whispers in his ear: it happens. 

It falls. 

You’re pathetic without it. 

All you can do is hide from him, escape to the tent and pretend to be so tired you’ve fallen asleep before he can investigate. It’s not something you do. Not with Minho. He knows you so well hiding from him is just as stupid as it is pathetic. He’ll know. 

Still, you can pretend. He won’t know as long as you’re unconscious. You can put it off until morning. 

It takes a long time for him to fall asleep. You lie there staring at the canvas of the tent for what feels like hours, the sounds of him tossing and turning continuing for so long you almost give up. 

But then he’s still. His breathing seems to even out. He’s asleep. 

That’s when you let yourself cry. Quietly at first; silent aching sobs. 

What a time for the wall to crumble. You wonder if you have the energy to rebuild. You’ll have to find it. The alternative is letting Minho go entirely, removing him from your life and letting the ruins erode away over a long, long time. 

Not an option. 

“Hey,” Minho’s soft voice calls. Shit. You wipe clumsily at your eyes and sodden cheeks. “Hey, what’s going on? What happened?” he questions as his palm rests gently against your shoulder. 

You should face him. You can’t hide. You know it. 

“No-thing,” you whimper, breath catching between each syllable. It’s that awful breathless kind of sobbing, the type that leaves you unable to inhale fully, let alone speak. 

He rolls you over onto your back. He isn’t rough — but it’s with enough strength you’re completely unable to resist him. 

“What is it?” he says again, tone much more forceful now. He isn’t letting it go. He looks down at you with wide eyes, like he’d never been asleep at all. 

You shake your head. 

His gentle thumbs move to your cheeks to attempt to wipe away the mess you’d left behind. He rests on one arm, leaning over you so he can give each cheek the same treatment. It’s a curious instinct, to wipe away someone's tears — like it has any effect on the person’s pain at all. It’s the best we can often do, you suppose. 

“Just focus on breathing,” he says. “Just breathe.” His hand stays against your cheek, fingers resting on your neck by your ear — featherlight. 

Breathing is easy, in theory. Breathing. Breathing. Breathing. His lips part to join you, guide you. His lips are still a little red from his bedtime routine, his tinted vaseline usually lasting him the entire night. 

“That’s it,” he soothes when you finally manage a few steady breaths in a row. “That’s good. You’re okay.” 

They’re simple words of comfort. The kind of thing anyone would say to a person in distress, but they settle something in your chest. You were okay. He was yours in a way that was more than nothing. He cared in a way that felt so genuine it was hard to be dissatisfied with the nature of it at all. 

“Did something happen today?” he asks, still leaning over you. It’s a vulnerable position to be in. It mirrors how you know this conversation will go. Your wall is a crumbled mess. You have no defences against him. 

“Not really.” 

His eyebrows pull together. 

“Nothing worth this,” you clarify. 

“Tell me.” 

“It’s not… It’s embarrassing.” 

His lips curve in a tiny lopsided smile, just a hint of amusement. “Friends are for sharing embarrassing things with. And I’m your friend,” he says. “Aren’t I?” 

You blink quickly a few times, desperate to keep your tears at bay. Then you nod weakly. 

“Why do you look so miserable about it?” he says, tone light and teasing. 

Your lips wobble a little as you struggle with the words attempting to burst forth. They pound and burn and demand to be set free. You lose the battle. “I love you.” 

He blinks, eyes flicking across your face. 

The gates are open now. You’re turned loose. “I love you so much,” you sob. “It hurts. It hurts everyday and it just keeps getting worse and I can’t—” 

His lips cut you off, a warm, heart-stopping, and very much welcome interruption. He’s kissing you. He’s—

“Stop,” he mumbles against your wet, salty lips. “Stop hurting. Please.” His next kiss is unbearably soft, a brush against your upper lip. “Please,” he whispers. 

You nod dumbly.

He rewards you with a collection of gentle kisses across your cheeks, replacing the remnants of your tears with the sticky wetness of his moisturised lips. You imagine the slight red marks he must leave behind. 

He settles over you properly at some point. You’re too distracted by the path of his lips to notice exactly when. But then his arms are by your head, caging you under him in a way that makes you hope for the universe to halt all progression forward. This was enough; everything. 

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips finally. “I’m… sorry for letting you think I don’t. I’m a coward.” 

“No,” you chastise quickly as you tangle your fingers in his hair. “Don’t say shit like that.” 

“I—” 

“It hurts me… and you told me to stop hurting.” 

His head drops to your neck… then, with a soft press of his lips to your skin, “Then I’ll never do it again.” 

Every move he makes is gentle when the slow, indulgent kisses turn into exploring hands and whispered pleas for more. Each of his whisper-soft words of affection sweeps away a crumbled section of your wall, clearing the space to build something entirely new. He’s warm, so warm as his bare torso rests on yours — as he finally presses inside you and sucks a mark into your neck to join the rest he’s left. “Doesn’t hurt?” he asks, stilling as he fills you completely. 

“No,” you gasp. “No, you’re… it’s—” His lips take the words from your mouth, a little messier than he’s been before. When his hips roll into yours you can’t help grasping at him like he might suddenly get up and leave — fingers tangling in his hair desperately.

“I got you,” he mumbles against your lips, heavy breaths mingling with your own. “I got you…” 

When he eventually spills inside you, flooding you with more of his warmth, you’re crying again. But this time it doesn’t hurt; this time it’s a release. The tears that he kisses from your face afterwards — they wash away the rest of the rubble.

[jakedustry]

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌 - 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

bsf!Heeseung x fem!reader

in which your best friend invites you to his basketball match because he wants his closest friend present, but things take a turn different way when he wins and you're the first person he runs to

wc 2.2k

warnings reader is implied to be shorter than Jake

↪ izzy adds... I love love writing Heeseung as a basketball player. I really believe after being an idol it's what fits him the most

You stood outside your apartment, gazing out across the street while patiently waiting for your best friend to pick you up. He was late. Again. But you could hardly nag him about it because he was also late to his match, and you knew that alone was enough punishment for him. 

A sigh escaped your lips as you took out your phone to glance at the clock, taking the opportunity to fix your hair in the reflection on your phone. 9:40. You stared at the numbers, thinking about just turning around and returning to your apartment. You didn’t even know if he was coming anymore. After all, it would be wise if he went to the match instead of picking you up so he could still warm up. 

But he wasn’t smart about it. It wouldn’t be at all like him to not come running for you, even though he should be somewhere completely different at the moment. 

You chuckled, watching your best friend park his car right before you, telling you to get in quickly. “The guys are going to kill me,” he whined, starting the vehicle again. “You can’t blame me for that, though. I wasn’t late, Hee,” you reminded him. “I know, I know,” Heeseung sighed. “I’m sorry. Were you waiting for long?” 

You sat in silence during the ride. Heeseung was panicking. It was clear to anyone who as much as glanced at him, and you knew better than to stress him out even more by talking. You can update him on your life after his match.

“I am so sorry. I’ll catch you again later,” your best friend blurted out quickly, too busy to even look your way before he took his bag and ran off to what you assumed was his team’s dressing room. “Don’t worry about it!” You assured him, chuckling when he almost tripped over nothing. You shook your head at him, leaving to find yourself a place in the crowd of fans. 

You expected to see more people in the audience since it was one of the last - and most important - matches of the season, but what no one could prepare you for were fans with banners and team flags. You tilted your head, trying to wrap your head around why they were taking it so seriously. 

You scanned the audience, searching for an open slot, but everything by the front seemed full. You sighed. This is what you get for coming late. 

Actually, no. This is what you get when you arrive on time. The match hasn’t even started yet and won’t for another ten minutes. You weren’t late. Everyone was just too early. 

Though deep down, you knew that wasn’t right. Still, you would rather blame others for not having a good spot. 

“Shorty!” You turned around upon hearing the familiar voice, rolling your eyes when you noticed Heeseung’s other best friend, Jake Sim. He caught a place at the front. You smiled before joining him after exchanging a small wave. 

“How many times do I need to tell you not to call me that?” You muttered, taking a seat next to him. “I don’t know what annoys you so much. If you’re short, I’m going to call you short,” he stated, holding back his laugh as you rolled your eyes at him. “I am not even that short,” you huffed. In fact, he wasn’t much taller than you. Yet, he always found a way to tease you. 

“Hey there now, I saved you a place. You can’t be mad at me,” Jake protested. “You’re lucky I like you,” you warned him, scoffing when you saw him give in and laugh at you. “Is Riki not here too? I can’t stand being here alone with you.” 

“Come on, you know you love me,” he teased you, the grin on his face only making you more annoyed. Jake chuckled at your behavior, shaking his head. “He went to the toilet. He should be here any minute,” he explained, straightening his back so you could see the younger boy’s hoodie thrown over the seat on his other side. “Right. I saw it from behind but didn’t realize it was Riki’s,” you commented, redirecting your attention towards the court as you heard fans screaming, realizing that was your cue the match was about to start. 

♡⸝⸝ 

“I can’t believe they started when I wasn’t here,” Riki complained, trying to figure out how both teams managed to score already. Honestly, he didn’t miss out on much, in your opinion. The first basket was simple luck, and the second wasn’t any different. Both teams had good defense, not letting their opponent through. They were just lucky the other teams made a mistake at the best time possible, allowing them to score. 

“At least Heeseung waited for you,” Jake joked, glancing at his best friend on the team bench, waiting for the coach to let him in with the rest of his team. The other team was also lucky he wasn’t playing, you thought. 

Heeseung was on the court at all times. It didn’t matter if he was sick the night before or out of energy after a tiring day. He always played in the starting five, pushing his limits so that he could play. But he wasn’t in the starting five this match, and you could feel his frustration all the way to your seat. 

You knew he was more mad at himself than his teammates or his coach though. Had he been here on time, he would be playing now. The coach made sure he got that clear when he told him he wouldn’t be starting this time. A part of you felt sorry for him. You knew how much playing meant to him, and hadn’t he come to pick you up, maybe he wouldn’t be as late. 

You snapped out of your thoughts upon hearing the cheers. They were so loud you were sure even the people outside the stadium would hear them. It didn’t take you long to figure out what - or more, who - the screams were about. All that echoed through the closed space was the name of your best friend. Lee Heeseung. 

“Heeseung, go kick their asses!” This wasn’t a fight. 

“Heeseung, show them how to score! Let’s get a goal!” They weren’t at a football match. There weren’t any goals. 

“Heeseung, you can do it on your own!” Basketball is a team sport. 

You weren’t sure why, but you felt annoyed. Everyone around you except for your two friends seemed to know nothing about basketball, and you hated the fact they were present just because they found your best friend hot. 

“You know, your face has no filter,” Jake nudged your shoulder, making you blink a few times before you turned towards him. “What?” He chuckled, shaking his head at you. “The frown on your face. You’re making it look as if you were jealous,” he teased you, catching Riki’s attention. Great. All you needed was his tall ass making fun of you for feeling jealous when that wasn’t even the case. 

“I am not jealous,” you protested for the third time already. “Right, and I am–” Before Jake could finish his sentence, the buzzer interrupted him, letting you know a team requested a time-out. You glanced at the scoreboard, your eyes widening when you noticed you almost missed the whole first quarter. Heeseung’s team was now winning 18:13, and you missed all that just because of a stupid argument. You sighed, looking at Heeseung on his team’s bench. He was gulping on his water, carefully listening to what the coach had to say about the play so far, wiping the sweat off his forehead. 

Somehow, a part of you found it attractive. 

“Yeah, definitely not head over heels for him,” Riki laughed when he noticed who you’ve been staring at. “Guys, I am not–” you started, swallowing the rest of what you wanted to say when you saw Heeseung look your way, giving you a quick, excited wave before he set his water bottle aside. “You were saying?” Jake scoffed, but you didn’t care enough to argue with him. You didn’t need to prove anything to him. 

♡⸝⸝ 

As the buzzer announced the start of the fourth quarter, you had decided to come down to the court so you could be there once the match was over. The score was neck to neck now, and you knew Heeseung needed a bit more support to do well. 

That was how you found yourself standing on the side of the court, just a few feet away from the door leading to the dressing rooms. Jake and Riki stayed in their seats, claiming they didn't want to give up such good seats just to stand near the smelly dressing rooms, but you didn’t mind. You had a good view from your place, and your cheers could reach your best friend easier. The smell was something you could bear for him. 

“Just two more points! You’re almost there, Hee!” You cheered, catching Heeseung’s attention immediately as his eyes shifted from the ball to your figure for a second. He smiled, quickly coming back to his senses as he sped up, catching up on his opponent and blocking him from making the shot. Heeseung’s teammate quickly caught the ball, and the game was theirs again. 

The game was moving too fast to your liking. When your team managed to score, their opponents followed up shortly after, making the last few minutes extremely tiring. You could see it on all of them. The way they were sweating and panting as they tried to stop the other team from scoring and failed miserably each time was a clear sign of exhaustion. You glanced up at the scoreboard, watching the 82:83 written right under the time they had left. 2 minutes. 

A lot could happen in 2 minutes. Within the blink of your eye, each team gained another 6 points in under a minute, and it stressed you out. They were running too much. You knew Heeseung would collapse in your arms as soon as the match ended. You could see that he was pushing his limits once again. 

You almost yelled at him to sit down and let someone else finish it, but you knew you couldn’t do that to him. This was important to him, and you were there to support him, not scold him. 

As the buzzer filled the stadium one last time, your eyes shot up to the basket in front of you, watching the ball fall to the ground as the score changed one last time. Your eyes lit up, an uncontrollable smile spreading across your face when you saw your team win. They did it. They won the finals. And it was all thanks to Heeseung’s buzzer beater. 

You could see the joy in his eyes as he looked around the court, searching for something, someone. He didn’t care about his teammates running to him to embrace him in a hug. All he could think about was you and the fact he needed to be in your arms. 

When his eyes finally met yours, he quickly apologized to his team, not wasting any more time before he ran to you. He didn’t care that everyone was watching him, cheering for him, or calling his name so he would take a picture with his team. 

Heeseung wrapped his arms around your shoulders, almost knocking you to the ground as he hugged you, squeezing you tightly. You laughed, patting his back to assure him you were there with him. “I did it! I did it!” He cheered, backing up so he could look you in the eyes. But soon after, you had him close again. Expect this time, it wasn’t just a hug you found yourself in. 

His lips pressed against yours, one of his hands finding its way to the back of your head, pulling you closer, while his other hand rested on your waist. Your eyes widened. Unable to do anything, you watched his sweaty forehead. His eyes were closed, and his lips were soft against yours. Still, you knew the kiss must have felt bad when you didn’t kiss him back. You couldn’t. Your heart was beating too fast, and your mind was an even bigger mess. 

A huffed “Sorry” escaped his lips as he pulled away from you, his forehead pressing against yours as he breathed heavily, still trying to catch his breath after the match. You closed your eyes, rethinking everything before you cupped his cheek, making him look you in the eyes. 

It was your hand that rested at the back of his head now, pulling him closer just like he did seconds ago with you as you kissed him. “You did it,” you nodded slightly, whispering against his lips. “I fucking did it,” he smiled, his hand wrapping around your hips to keep you close. “I finally gathered up the courage to kiss you,” he proclaimed, chuckling as if he didn’t believe what was happening. 

Your cheeks heated up, becoming redder the more you looked at him. He was unbelievable. “You wanted to kiss me?” You asked, your question coming out a lot quieter than you intended. “For so long,” he nodded. “Ever since you became my lucky charm.” 

✧˖°. izzy's tags @beomiracles @adel222

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[wintfleur]

thinking about Daryl Dixon dating a book worm girly . . . they would meet on the Greene farm. She was a good friend of Hershel’s son Shawn, and stayed and lived with the family when the outbreak started. She would spend most of her time with Hershel and Beth or with her face in a book . . . she would like to be alone a lot, having her own spot on the farm away from the house where she could peacefully read and not have to worry about interacting with anyone, a spot that used to be her and Shawn’s . . . also a spot where Daryl decides to set up his own small camp away from everyone . . . well everyone but her. He would be hesitant at first to approach her when he gets back from another search for Sofia, seeing her leaning up against a tree with a thick book in her lap. He’d seen her around a few times in the short amount of time he’s been at the farm, only with Beth or Hershel. He’d ask her what she wants, assuming that she was waiting for him. She’d apologize, saying that she just wanted to be away from everyone, and surprising the both of them he said with a grunt she could stay as long as she didn’t touch his shit or start reading aloud. And for the first time he sees a small smile on her lips . . . but it was quickly covered when she lifted her book up from her lap.

Time-skip to after the farm falls and before they find the prison. They would become closer . . . well as close as two antisocial and closed off people could get. It was more like they found comfort in each other’s silent presence. She was so good at being quiet and finding her way around in the woods that she would often join daryl tracking/hunting. The first time daryl sees her smile since the farm is when he gives her a book he found in the trunk of an abandoned car. Since she couldn’t carry a bunch of books since they were traveling, every time she was done with a book he’d try and search for another to switch it with . . . would let her quietly mumble about the book she was reading when she couldn’t sleep and he was on watch. Would walk next to her as she walks n reads, making sure she wouldn’t trip.

When they make it to the prison, he’d bring her back multiple books whenever he goes out looking for supplies, and over time the small desk she had in her cell was cluttered with books . . . all from daryl. He would let her ramble about her books whenever they were on watch in the watch tower, him standing up and looking out while she comfortably sat on the floor with her book. He’d realize his feelings for her at the strange and unfamiliar feeling he felt in his chest as he watched her read a book to Carl and Beth who was holding Judith.

Time-skip to when they are now together, he would come back late from his shift at the look out tower in the prison and would check on her in there cell, expecting to see her sleeping since it was late . . . Instead she was curled up in her bed, technically now there bed, reading with a lit candle next to her. Not wanting to sleep without him by her side . . . and wanting to also finish another chapter. Whenever daryl would wake up from a nightmare she would quietly read to him, taking him out of his tortured mind and into the lovely world of her book. Whenever she was too focused on a book he’d surprise her with a kiss on her cheek or lips . . . completely stealing her attention. All she would have to do is bat her eyelashes and say please and daryl would fold . . . reading to her when she’s to tired to read herself, she feels so safe and warm when she’s in his arms as she listens to him read to her . . . he always kisses her forehead when he notices she fell asleep, tucking her bookmark a few pages back, knowing that she probably wouldn’t remember the last few pages he read to her.

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( take this as my application to write for twd !!! I wrote this in 20 minutes at 1am, soo it’s probably not the best I just couldn’t sleep without getting this written down. Please let me know if I should continue writing for twd . . . I’m currently rewatching the show and my love for daryl just grows stronger !!! Again please let me know what you guys think, don’t be a silent reader <333 )

main masterlist twd masterlist

[syoddeye]

consequence / ink

price x f!reader | 1.6k words series directory tags: alcohol, miscommunication (resolved) a/n: john is a down bad, as the youths would say. thank you to my beloved @/pfhwrittes for britpicking. ☕

her cast is gone. a sleeve hides the arm, but it’s clearly off.

john holds the door for a customer, unsure if he ought to take another step or retreat while he can. he tried to compose a text on the flight, on the drive, in the shower. a heads-up, a ‘hello, i’ve returned, i’m sorry, don't worry about my face when you see it’—but he couldn’t. somehow, he thought simply turning up would be better.

when she spots him, the look on her face says a text would’ve been the right call.

ah, well.

she glares over the other man’s shoulder as he pays. he’s truly awful because it only makes him happier to see her. if she didn’t care, her face would be a blank slate.

the man takes a short eternity to move to the end of the bar. john checks to ensure he isn’t holding up a queue he knows isn’t there, if only to buy another second—

“yurbeck.” she blurts out.

“sorry?”

slower, she repeats herself, “you’re back.”

“i am. you’re healed up.” 

“you’re not.”

the black eye he sports is ugly but faded. yellowish, with ugly splotches of blood still pooled beneath the skin. he’d like to say, you should see the other guy, but the bastard’s probably jaguar shit by now. instead, he shrugs. “looks worse than it feels. can we grab a drink when you’re off?”

she glances and frowns at her coworker, who’s clearly listening in over the noise of the espresso machine and sighs. her uncertainty is as plain as day.

“no.”

alright. damage control. he can fix this, he thinks, heart crashing into his gut. he didn’t leave her on bad terms. “listen, i know—”

she interrupts a second time. “we’ll go to mine.”

his mouth shuts, teeth clacking. he won’t argue with that.

~~

before you leave the café, you check your last exchange.

>> thanks for dinner the other night. i had a wonderful time. unfortunately, i won’t be by for a bit.

> ominous > prison?

>> not quite. work. i won’t be able to text.

> well don’t be gone too long > i might forget your order

it’s ridiculous, in hindsight, all your worrying over a man you assumed ghosted you. a regular you took a stupid leap of faith for. the shopping trip was a way to test the waters, and despite an awkward intensity he seemed desperate to hide and his bad jokes, john charmed you. even when you extended the exam to your place, he passed. no snide comments about cece or the decor. he helped with cooking without being asked. washed the dishes. it was a wonderful time. he said it. you believed it.

but two months isn’t ‘a bit’. it’s a disappearing act.

you say as much, as annoyed with yourself as you are with him. he quietly concedes he could have explained better. you tell him friends don’t go MIA for weeks. he laughs.

~~

“funny you should say that.”

“what?”

john stares hard at her profile as they walk. this part is always hard. pivotal. he puts it simply: “i’m in the military—special forces. that’s why i was ‘MIA’, as you put it.”

her brows raise, but she doesn’t falter. “oh.”

his lip curls. he’s been cussed out, fawned over, and ditched entirely for sharing his profession. no one usually reacts so little. it’s a divisive topic. everyone’s got an opinion. 

“that’s it? oh?” john echoes, trying to tease something out. he once listened to her harsh critique of the illegibility of packaging at the café—he cannot imagine her indifference as genuine. “you can ask questions, y’know.”

“okay. where were you? what were you doing?”

crawling on my belly through mud and fending off giant cockroaches. shooting. getting shot at.

“seeing the sights, meeting people.”

that withering glare returns, but it’s shorter-lived this time. she huffs. “see, i assumed ‘special forces’ means it’s the type of military business you don’t get answers about.”

“yes and no. i can’t compromise my clearance.”

“what can you tell me?”

he smiles when she sneaks a look, irritation giving way to curiosity. “i sunburn very easily.”

she snorts. “no way, not with that complexion.”

“and, i have thirty, forty mosquito bites where the sun doesn’t shine.”

john’s bruised cheek hurts from grinning as she laughs. this is the first time he’s heard it uninhibited, neither bitten back nor politely smothered by a hand. he needs to brush up on his humor. he needs to hear that sound more often.

“sorry. i’m a mess.”

john aligns their shoes and removes his jacket. it’s hardly messy. her flat appears mostly unchanged, except for the small mountain of citrus on her dining table. a single banana. she starts to sweep it into a plastic bin, but he catches a stray orange, and his thumb drags over an odd indentation. he turns it in hand, eyebrows pitching at the sight of a rose etched into the skin.

“is this…?” 

he watches her press a machine into a foam insert, then hurriedly zip a case shut. the look on her face clearly says he wasn’t supposed to see that. 

she takes the orange and shrugs. “something i’m having fun with. a new hobby.”

“solid work for a hobby.”

“don’t tease.”

“you’d know if i was.” 

she excuses herself to change after setting the bin aside, stepping over a wary cece. the cat stands guard at the mouth of the hall. unimpressed. he can practically hear the and where have you been?

john gives the cat a fond but tight smile. he’ll need to get in good with her again, too, it seems. he checks the water bowl before settling onto the couch. cece follows to investigate, her tiny black nose tapping his knuckles when he offers a hand. 

her aloofness swiftly melts after he coaxes her into his lap, though he suspects that the subsequent stabbing of her kneading paws is her brand of punishment. little thing seems to relish it.

“you can move her if she’s too much.”

his face lifts, and he wonders if the cat feels the palpitations in his chest.

given what he’s only just learned, he shouldn't be surprised, but the patchwork tattoos decorating her arms steal his breath anyway. the impulse to touch is instant. to trace every fine line and jealously ask where she had them done and by whom. 

he grips the arm of the couch hard, and cece pauses her biscuit-making, eyes half-lidded and judgmental. dismissing the cat, he nonchalantly places a throw pillow over his lap and scrubs a hand over his face.

the plot thickens.

“nice ink. didn’t realize you had any. makes sense.”

“yep. twenty-one. mm. no. twenty-two.”

far more than what the shirt shows. “any damage?” 

her head tilts as she cracks the refrigerator, pulling two bottles by their necks. “nope. don’t got anything there.”

john takes a beer as she plops down. she tucks her legs beneath, and he studies the artfully drawn black shapes on the one arm: a network of barbed thorns and flowers, a woman contorted into a skull, a mouse sleeping in a sardine tin, a stamp, and several stars.

“do you have any?” she asks, taking a swig.

nothing as lovely as hers. the first and last instance john had time to sit for a piece, he was clean-shaven and further from the thick of it. but she’s shown him hers; returning the favor is only polite. “one.” he sets the bottle aside to ruck up his left sleeve. she shifts, and the tips of his ears redden. fuck he wishes it wasn’t so—

“traditional. ha, had you pinned for the type. cute.”

cute. the ink has faded into muted tones, the lines softened. the mermaid’s once coy smile blurs into a vague shape, and now that he looks at it, the anchor’s shank is slightly crooked. the subtle, natural distortions of time make the mermaid perched in the curved arm of the anchor appear as aged as his face.

“can i?” 

she extends a hand. has she touched him before? intentionally?

“yes.”

her fingers follow the lines without an ounce of hesitation or hovering. the corner of her mouth quirks when john instinctively squeezes his bicep, the mermaid’s blue tail flexing under her thumb. he can’t tell what she’s thinking despite watching her pretty eyes. he simply laments he doesn’t have more to show her if only to keep her this close.

john’s focus narrows to the heat of her hand as it moves. he imagines five perfect ovals burning into his arm hair where she grabs and adjusts her view. that his skin might melt, and her palm would graft to his limb for all time, barring surgical intervention.

the first words out of her mouth in a minute are a bucket of cold water.

“six inches, right?”

“what?”

her gaze flicks up. “from the tip to the base?” a prolonged beat passes before she adds, “or, i guess, to the fins of her tail?”

she’s gonna be the death of me. 

“i think so.”

“it’s aged well.”

“ah. you’re taking the piss.”

“you’d know if i was.” she echoes. “i’m serious. i’m guessing it’s fifteen or twenty years old? it could look worse.” her nails scritch in a tight circle for a half-second, long enough that he might combust, but she pulls away and swirls her beer. “why’d you stop at one?”

“busy schedule. and i don’t want to be too identifiable.”

“yes. the chops are the subtler choice.” she smiles behind the bottle. “now i’m taking the piss.”

john thinks of precisely three responses to her cheek, none of which make it to his tongue. he sips slowly, catching on a slip of skin when she stretches, the hem of her shirt lifting just so. a tempting black line practically hooks his eye before it disappears.

“oh, you’re funny. got me curious, though. which one was your first?”

her legs straighten, and she pushes to her feet. “it’ll be easier if i show you.”

[wosowrites]

Good Girl (Ona Batlle x Reader)

warnings: smut, pr@ise k!nk

a/n: based off this request here and it is not proof read sorry.

prompt: in which it’s Ona and the readers first time sleeping together so the reader gets really nervous, resulting in Ona taking over and showing her dominant side.

You were extremely outgoing. You were the loudest in the changing rooms, the one who played the music, the first on the dance floor and the last to back down from a challenge. When you scored the opening goal or any goal during a tournament you made sure the whole stadium could hear your screams of joy. Your celebrations were famous throughout the women’s football community. So that’s why no one could have ever expected how absolutely nervous and almost submissive you were in bed.

When Ona found this out… she could not have been more pleased.

There had been some flirting between you and Ona for a year now. But it was very hard to tell what was just good old spanish friendliness and what was genuine romantic interest. The line was thin.

Ona would hold you close to her for long periods of time, guide you by your waist through crowds, kiss your cheek dangerously close to your lips, let her hand rest low on your hips and make a point of hugging you often when you were out on swim trips together. Nothing drove her more insane than the feeling of your skin on hers.

But neither of you had ever given in to your desires, both assuming the other wasn’t interested. You proved the other wrong in a hotel pool.

Manchester was playing Aston Villa in London and Mark had decided to let the team have the day off in London so the team would be arriving 24 hours before the game, spending the night at a hotel and then having a quick morning training session before the 3:00 pm game.

You all walked London, checking out landmarks and eating strongly mediocre food. Although your english was flawless and you barely had an accent, you were french Canadian and had played in France so you often missed the food in France.

By 9:00 most girls were lying in bed as instructed, but because you were rooming by yourself this time around due to an un even number of people there was no one to tell you to stay in bed. So, you slipped your bathing suit on and headed to the roof where there was a pool.

You loved swimming, especially in London spring. It was chilly and the water, cold as well, made your body feel good and helped you forget about every worry and unwelcome thought in your head.

You climbed to the roof, happy to see it deserted. You threw your towel to the side and then dived into the deep end. You loved the water so much because when you were around water during your childhood, it was one of the rare times you were happy. You let the water consume you and wash away your thoughts. You thoughts of tomorrows game, thoughts of the fight against Canada Soccer, thoughts of Ona…

But the second your brain wandered to Ona you couldn’t help it. When Ona was in your brain, so was her body. The way her hand we’re carved out to perfection, the shape of her chest under her training top and the way her arms flexed when she took shots.

All these thoughts ran through your head in only a couple seconds and then you emerged out of the water.

"Night swim?" a voice asked while your eyes were still closed due to you recently emerging from the water.

"Holy crap. Do not sneak up on me like that!" you squealed, opening your eyes and pushing your hair back and away from your face. "Sorry chica," Ona said with a wink.

You swam towards her to the edge of the pool, crossing your arms on the deck and looking up at her. The spaniard slipped off her shorts and hoodie, revealing her abs, arm muscles and tattoos. You stared to say the least until Ona snapped her fingers in front of your face, making you blush. "Sorry," you mumbled. "Don’t apologize, I’m looking at you too," she said, dipping her feet into the pool.

It was hard to tell with the young defender, hard to know what was flirting and what was just classic Ona.

"The waters really nice," you said to her, pushing your feet against the wall and gliding on your back, away from Ona and into the shallow end.

You held eye contact with the brunette, until a glow came across her face. "How much trouble do you think we would get in if we skinny dipped?" Ona said, walking around the pool towards you.

"Skinny dipping?!" you shrieked, taken aback and sounding a little more childish and stuck up than you wanted. You wanted the spaniard to think of you as being fun and loose. "Yeah y/l/n," she answered with a playful smirk. "Well. Jeez I think we’d get in a lot of trouble," you answered with a concerned frown on your face. "So you’re saying you wouldn’t like it?" Ona said, pushing a little further.

She had never seen this side of you before. You were always loud, energetic, and borderline agressive. This? This was different.

"No! I mean. No. I-yes. Yes I would like it," you blushed, starting to head into Ona’s direction.

She watched you with unblinking eyes as you swam up to her and stood up in the shallow end. Ona sat down with her toes in the water and spread her legs slightly for you to stand between, focusing on the small piece of cloth keeping you decent. "There aren’t any cameras, I asked," Ona said to you, looking up from your chest and into your eyes. "Something about not violating the privacy of the clients. Hotel policy," she added. "Mhm," you said softly, looking up into Ona’s eyes.

Your angle gave her a perfect view of you. Your wet hair, your sparkling body decorated with droplets of water. "You look beautiful," Ona said softly, just barely audible over the sound of the street below and your racing heart. "Where is all of this coming from?" you said softly, suddenly avoiding eye contact with her. "It’s coming from the fact that you are beautiful. Not just right now but always. And I may have had a drink and one drink Ona is extremely confident," she said, using her index to lift your chin.

The spaniard was now sitting on the edge of the pool with only a red bathing suit on to cover her up. Her stomach was toned and her arms were strong. Not in a threatening way, just in a hot way.

"No cameras, you said?" you whispered, your voice a hushed sound. "No cameras," she said, leaning back and subtly flexing her abdominals.

You were still standing between her legs and you gently placed your hands on her thighs, digging your nails into them softly and surely leaving little crescents on her skin. She didn’t even flinch.

Ona sat up straight and then stood up, giving you a look to follow her. You pushed yourself out of the pool and stood facing the slightly taller girl.

Her eyes were dark and hungry, but also warm and welcoming. She had always had that contrast. The one of always being alert and the one of being laid back. It was a strange mix.

The spaniard turned around and moved her loose hair out of the way, brining it to lie on her front. You saw that the back of her suit was tied by a string and slowly, with shaking hands, you lifted them up and grabbed both ends of the tie.

The way the strings fell apart freely and then slipped off Ona’s shoulder sent your body into over drive. You stood with your hands hovering over her bare back until she slowly turned around to face you. Your eyes brushed over her bare chest before landing on her eyes. "You’re beautiful. Tu est tellement parfaite." You told her adoringly. She smiled at you, a big toothy grin before slipping her thumbs under her bikini bottom and pulling it off.

You mimicked her, letting her unclasp the back of your bathing suit and then letting it fall to the ground. She put her hands on your waist and turned you around.

You felt like a ballerina.

A super gay, super secretly in love ballerina.

Ona slipped off your bottoms and then cupped your face gently. "Ready?" she asked you, her voice steady while you knew yours would be hectic. "Yeah," you let out.

Ona went in first, lowering herself to the pool and then turning to face you. You threw a worried glance behind your shoulder, half expecting someone to come in screaming at you both, but no one did. So, you walked down the stairs leading to the pool and pushed your way towards Ona. "I can’t believe we’re doing this," you laughed, avoiding eye contact with her. "I can’t believe your so shy. You’re usually loud and excited. Confident," she added.

"I’m not not confident… this is just new," you said, raising your head.

You gently placed your hands on Ona’s hips and rubbed your thumbs around her hip bone. The taller girl gently pulled you in by pushing your lower back closer to her. You moved your hands up from her hips to her ribs and then down to her ass. "Kiss me," you said to her, looking between her eyes and lips.

She did not have to be begged, within milliseconds her lips were trapped into yours, her hands had found shelter on your ass before slipping down to your thighs to pull your legs around her waist. You roughly kissed back, letting her hands roam your hair and using your abs to hold yourself up onto her. Ona’s hands traced every curve, every perfection, every part of yourself that you deemed an imperfection but she thought beautiful. You wrapped your arms loosely around her neck, playing with her baby hairs and scratching the back of her head with your nails. Ona took strides through the water to drop you onto the side of the pool, only separating your lips when necessary.

"Ona," you said to her tentatively as you sat on the poolside, avoiding her eyes. "Yes, mi amor," she said, holding you down gently by placing her hands on your thighs. "I’ve never… done this before," you said, thankful for the dark sky as your cheeks got flushed. "What do you mean? Sex? You’ve never had sex?" she asked, slightly shocked. "Ona! Of course I have," you groaned, pushing her slightly and making her send you a classic dazzling smile. "I mean something like this. In this setting. This is… daring," you told her. "Well then, you’re in luck pretty girl. Spaniards love the extra risk," she said.

Ona put her hand on your chest and pushed you down into a laying position. The taller girl bends your knees and places kisses on your thighs before spreading them to her liking. She took no time and gave you no warning before slipping a finger into you. You were already wet from her kissing you and un clothing you, your walls closing around her and making her laugh at you.

Ona pumped her middle finger into you, curling it from time to time and making you arch your back and try to grab on to the concrete desperately.

"Good god, look at you you’re doing such a good job, cariña," Ona praised.

Her words caught you off guard, your eyes flying open and a small smile forming on your face. Your hips bucked and your legs shook, partly from the oncoming orgasm and partly from the effect of her words. Ona chuckled at you as a wave of courage came over you.

"Ona. I need to come, touch me please," you begged her. "One thing at a time mi vida."

The defender made it seem as though she wouldn’t relieve you immediately, but how wrong you were. A couple seconds later, Ona had pulled out her fingers, leaving you with an uncomfortable empty feeling before pushing her face in between your legs. The brunette swiped her tongue through your lips before harshly pressing it against your clit.

Your hips went flying off the surface, grinding into her head and pushing your wetness more and more into her face. She could have gotten high off your smell and the way you slapped your hand over your mouth to muffle the cries of her name.

Ona was clearly experienced, the girl finding the perfect balance of sweet spots praise, and pleasure. You never wanted her to stop.

But eventually, when the spaniard dragged her nails over your bare abs and then latched onto your nipple, there was nothing more you could do to elongate the feeling of her face between your legs. You came onto her shaking and crying out, feeling slightly embarrassed at how easily she had made you cum.

Your hands fell to your sides as your chest heaved heavily, the heat in your stomach slightly fading but the ache in between your legs still present.

You heard movement in the water and soon enough the naked brunette was towering over you. "You did such a good job pretty girl," she said, looking down at you with a teasing smirk.

You knew your face turned bright red when the heat in your stomach transferred to your face.

Ona held out her hand and you grabbed it happily, letting her pull you up. You weren’t on your feet long though as your legs gave out, making Ona grab you underneath the arms and hold you steady. "You okay?" she asked you lovingly, her eyes wide and concerned, hoping not to have hurt you. "Yes. More than, It’s just been a while and you’re…" you gave her a little 'you know' look and she smiled.

Despite being not so tall, she was strong. Before you knew it, you were being carried bridal style towards picnic tables on the pool deck. You rested your head on Ona’s chest and closed your eyes for a couple seconds before opening them. "Wait. I want too- to you. I’m not a pillow princesse," you said to her, looking up. "Another day amor you’re clearly tired," she answered.

The spaniard sat you onto the table and grabbed your towel, gently using it to wipe you down. You surely hadn’t realized how much love was in your eyes as she helped you get dressed into your bathing suit again, but she did. She noticed how dilated your pupils were and how your hands grazed her and held on to her every time she was near.

"Thank you," you told her, leading her to stand between your legs once she was clothed as well. Ona dipped her head and rested it on yours, rubbing her thumb on your cheekbones. You raised yours pull her in by the waist before tilting your head and kissing her sweetly.

[cheesysoup-arlo]

Cutie (pt. 1)

fluff (pt. 2)

You and Regina had been dating for a few months now and had already broken up 6 times. This was mostly because of Regina being insecure or thinking that you’re cheating on her, then she would break up with you for a few days. She would eventually call you and tell you she missed you and you’d come crawling right back to her because you knew she still loved you but she was so worried about getting hurt she’d rather hurt you before you can hurt her. It took her about 4 months since you started dating to start trusting you a little more and this month she’d only broken up with you once.

It was Monday afternoon and school had just ended for the day. You saw your girlfriend in the hallway at her locker “Hey there pretty girl can you stop being tall for a second” you say looking up at Regina, Regina leans down to your height bending down just a little “thank you” you say before pulling Regina into a kiss, Regina kisses back the pulls away after kissing you “god you’re a dork” Regina says with a smile “ah yes but I’m your dork” you say with a wink “you know maybe I should just get you some boots so you’re a little taller because those converse are not helping your shortness” she says as she pats your head “HEY” you say with a pout and she boops you on the nose “cutie” she says with a laugh “don’t call me cute, let’s just go home please” you say trying to be grumpy “we’re not going home, remember? you said I could take you to the mall?” Regina says looking at you with her eyebrow raised “oh right, don’t be mad but I totally forgot…” you say nervously raising your shoulders into a shrug causing Regina to playfully roll her eyes “whatever, let’s go” she says heading to the parking lot assuming you’ll follow her and you do of course. You get in her pink jeep, throw your bag in the back seat then hop into the passenger seat. Regina gets in plugging her phone in the aux and putting on some music on Spotify. As she’s driving her hand finds its way to rest on your thigh, you don’t say anything but you’re definitely blushing, Regina notices and smirks. You arrive at the mall, Regina gets out and opens your door for you “aw thanks” you say hopping out of the car. You two wander around the mall, well more like Regina drags you around the mall trying to get you to try something new. “Baby come on it would look so cute on you, please” she says with a cute little pout and puppy dog eyes “ugh one of my only weakness, your cuteness” you say with a frustrated groan “yay, come on I’ll stop dragging you around, we can go home and watch a movie ok?” She says as she plays for your new shirt. The car ride home is quiet minus Regina’s soft humming to the quiet music, you feel yourself doze off like half way through the drive. “Baby, we’re home you gotta get up” Regina whispers softly in your ear, half asleep you lazily reach for her she decides carrying you in is going to be the easier option. Nobody is home so the house is really quiet “baby can you walk up the stairs? I promise I’ll cuddle with you as soon as we get up stairs” Regina asks, you softly nod as she puts you down. You very sleepily walk up the stairs tripping on the last step but Regina catches you “woah be careful cutie” you give her a dirty look “hey that’s not nice, only I’m allowed to be bitchy” Regina says playfully making you smile a little as you continued to head to her room. “Come on sleepy head let’s get you into something more comfortable then you can go to sleep” Regina says pulling you over to her closet “I thought you said you were done dragging me around today” you say sarcastically “haha very funny baby, here get changed so we can cuddle” Regina says handing you some clothes then giving you a quick kiss. You got changed rather slowly given your tiredness, you could feel Regina looking at you “ok creep stop staring at me I’m too tired to fuck you right now” you say nonchalantly, Regina doesn’t say anything she just comes up behind you and wraps her arms around your waist “I can’t stop, you’re so pretty and you’re my girlfriend I think I should be able to look at you if I want” Regina said resting her head on your shoulder, you blushed not saying anything “aw you’re blushing” she said tickling your sides “Regina NO!” You said trying to squirm away, Regina let’s out a genuine laugh tickling you more “Reggie please st- sto-STOP” you say through giggles “ok ok I’ll stop” she giggles as she kisses the top of your head “cuddles please?” You say looking up at her “yeah come here” Regina says pulling you over to her bed. Your head on her chest and arms wrapped around her while she plays with your hair and puts on your favorite movie.

A/N: I didn’t know how to cut this into two parts and i will be posting the second immediately after this 💕

[discordantwritings]

The Sand Dragon and I Pt. 2 (Dragon! Sir Crocodile x Reader)

Part 1 / Part 2

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, dragon shifter! Crocodile, monsterfucking, canon typical violence, power dynamics are once again pretty whack, possessive Crocodile, Crocodile is Mean, oral sex, facefucking, masochism, lil bit of blood, overstimulation, belly bulge, creampie, aftercare is important guys, also vampire! Mihawk is there for a little bit

WC: 6k

Summary: An unwelcome guest, a slightly more welcome guest, and a display of ownership.

Notes: I had way too much fun with this. So I originally intended this to be the end of it buttttt if you guys want more or more fantasy type aus I have many ideas

Tagging: @okanadafreakingfan

While you don’t have to make as many trips all the way up to the entrance cavern anymore for water, there’s still a daily hike you have to make up to the fountain to fill your large metal bucket that you dug up. You consider asking if there’s a closer water source but that thought is quickly dismissed. You only see him once every few weeks by his design. No need to increase the rate at which he could tire of you.

You release the dirty water from yesterday back into the pool of water, watching the dust and dirt slowly sink and travel back to the earth. You’re about to refill the bucket when suddenly you hear a noise from the tunnel to the surface. Gripping the bucket tight you press yourself to the stone wall, waiting to see what comes out of the tunnel.

This isn’t the first time this has happened- wild animals sometimes have the misfortune of wandering down too far to find food and water but most of the time they leave fairly quickly. You assume it’s something to do with Sir Crocodile’s presence no matter how far away he is this was still his lair. So when a man- an actual human man- peers out from the tunnel you nearly drop your bucket in surprise.

It’s not long before he sees you, it’s a painfully wide open cave, and you see his eyes widen in surprise before he runs over to you. As he gets closer you can really see him- disheveled presumably from days of travel, beat up armor, and a short sword gripped in his right hand. Reflexively you back off from his fast approach and as you do he stops, putting his hands up.

“Hey- I’m not going to hurt you.” His words do nothing to calm you. “Actually- I guess I’m here to free you.”

Free? Why would you- oh, yeah. Most humans don’t consensually live in a dragon’s lair. “You- look-“

“No, no don’t worry everything is okay now!” Oh boy he’s really getting into the savior role. “I’m going to kill that foul beast and then you can come home with me!”

Right, like if you had been taken you wouldn’t want to go back to your own home and to your own people. “He’s going to kill you.”

“I’ve been training for this my whole life-“ You estimate he’s in his mid 20s, whole life doesn’t really carry a lot of weight- “And I will be victorious.”

You try to warn him more but he doesn’t hear you, already walking away to go deeper into the tunnels. You’re not sure how regular of an occurrence this is for Sir Crocodile but you know he’d probably just be annoyed to see some random human wandering around.

Maybe you’ve been living in a cave for far too long, away from humanity for too long, but as you reel back with your bucket it really feels like the best solution. He doesn’t even notice you until it’s too late, heavy metal colliding with the side of his head and knocking him out cold. His body slumps to the ground as the metal clang echoes again and again off the tall stone walls.

Well. Sir Crocodile is bound to have heard that. So you fill up your bucket, take a seat, and wait for him to show up.

This time you hear him coming and for the first time since you got here you see him in his full dragon form. You aren’t as scared of him but there’s no stopping your body’s natural reaction to cower in his presence. His large eyes look over the scene- the knocked out wannabe knight and you sitting there waiting for him. You don’t say anything, just patiently wait for his reaction.

“You knocked him out.” It’s not a question.

“Yes sir.” You respond, shifting in your seat.

“Why?”

“I assumed you would be displeased to find some human attempting to kill you wandering around your lair.”

“And?” He could hear you were holding something back.

“And… he annoyed me sir.” You admit.

Impossibly loud laughter fills the space as Sir Crocodile cackles at your response. You have to bite your cheek to not smile, this was probably the best reaction you could get.

“Oh, I didn’t know my pet had such a fire!” He steps closer, snout close to the unconscious man. “Such a pathetic excuse of a human. Some do not know their place.”

His massive jaw opens and you look away just in time so you don’t have to see him devour the man whole. Your eyes glue to the ceiling as you hear the awful crunch of metal and bone under teeth. After a few moments of silence you finally look back down to see those massive eyes staring at you.

“Good work pet.”

Now that you know what these emotions are swirling deep in your stomach, embarrassment mixes in as you try and temper your reaction. You hope maybe he doesn’t care enough to analyze your reaction, to care if you like anything he says. But the way his pupils narrow into slits tells you he knows.

“Keep up the good work.” His large body turns around, knocking over a few chairs and tables as he lumbers out of the space and back down to whatever cave he lurks in. You practically melt into the chair the second you can no longer hear his movement, mortified by your own reactions to this whole situation. As you straighten up the room you ignore the perverse want in the pit of your stomach. You know how he sees humans, how he sees you. Your sick attraction was yours and yours alone. This was just another hold he was forming over you.

But all the logic in the world doesn’t stop how happy you are for the rest of the week. Not to mention a few days later your food is restocked with fresh fruits and vegetables, a gift you know is from Sir Crocodile.

He doesn’t really care.

But maybe he cares just a little.

The next time you see him you’ve made significant progress on his overstock hoard. Books are on shelves, you’ve relocated some rugs to the room, most things are at least in somewhat sensible piles, and you swear you can almost see the back of the cave. You were working on organizing the trinkets when you hear his voice.

“I didn’t think it was possible to get rid of all that dust.” Surprisingly, you don’t jump out of your skin at his presence, somewhat used to him sneaking up on you.

“It wasn’t easy sir.” You stand up straight as he walks around the space that is now open. His claws lightly drag along the bindings of books on the shelves, his reptilian eyes analyzing everything. You hold your breath, hoping that you haven’t done anything wrong in your organization.

“Categorical and alphabetical. Good enough.” He turns to you and sighs. “As much as I’ve tried to push this off, I have a guest visiting in three days. He’s just here for a meeting of sorts but I need the entrance cavern ready to receive. Don’t worry about food either.”

“Oh of course sir, I’ll get to organize that space tomorrow if that’s alright?” You wonder what kind of guest Sir Crocodile could possibly have, probably another dragon?

“And he’s human sized so I will be as well. Arrange appropriately. While I won’t require you to hang around you I would still like you to receive the guest so I’ve gotten you some more appropriate clothing.”

Human sized confirms in your mind that his guest is definitely not human. Curiosity at what clothing he could have possibly gotten you swims in your head but you’ll find that out soon enough. “I can do that sir. What time will the guest be arriving?”

“Around eight in the evening. He’s punctual, you shouldn’t have to wait long.” Crocodile walks over to the pile you were sorting through, gold claws picking up a wooden talisman. “I realize I’m giving you a sore impression of what I collect. One day you will see my real hoard, if you keep being good.”

You flush under his praise despite yourself and force your gaze forward so as to not make eye contact with him. He chuckles and you want to disappear out of embarrassment.

“I’ll see you in three days, pet.” And just like that he’s gone again.

It’s getting harder and harder to deny your reactions to him. It follows you at night to your bedroom as you fight the urge to touch yourself. You know somehow he would hear your moans, the slick noises you would inevitably create if you were to dip your fingers deep into where you need them. Knowing that you deny yourself, compounding your need with every visit he pays you. It’s becoming a problem how fast you grow slick in his presence but you keep pushing it off. Eventually it’ll pass.

Maybe.

When you get back to your room that night you find new clothes neatly folded for you on your bed. They’re the same deep green of his scales and as you touch them you feel impossibly soft silk. Holding it up you see that they should fit you perfectly, and you wonder how he knew your exact measurements. Probably a result of his impressive observation skills. The thought of his eyes raking over your body and analyzing every dip and curve of your body…

You bury your face into the clothing and huff in frustration. You really need to get your head on straight.

Focusing on setting up the entrance for a guest at least fills the time well. You arrange tables and chairs and then spend some time gathering the best looking items from the overstock to decorate the space. It makes it look more lived in, even if you know realistically it’s not going to fool anyone.

Soon enough it’s almost time to greet the guest of honor and you are hesitating by the tunnel up to the surface. Dressed in the somehow perfectly tailored clothes Sir Crocodile got for you the silk did little to soothe your anxiety. You were tasked to receive the guest but you’re not sure if that means right here or up at the surface. It had been a long time since you’ve been outside these caves and while you don’t feel yourself missing the surface… fresh air would be nice.

Sir Crocodile wouldn’t want his guest to have to do the long walk down by himself right? Your own shoddy justification is enough to have you traveling up to the surface. It’s much less foreboding than you remember, but you know that’s just because you’re used to so much worse at this point.

You know you’re almost there because you can feel the cool breeze of the desert night. Pausing, you soak it in, a sharp contrast to the damp, stale air that hangs in the deep caverns. It’s only a few more steps before you’re out, looking at the starry night sky. You forgot how beautiful it was.

Despite all these emotions never once does the thought of running away cross your mind. Not out of fear, but because your new life is actually pretty good.

“You’re not Crocodile.” A dark, smooth voice sounds from a few feet away and you turn to see what looks to be an immaculately dressed human man.

“No I’m his-“ What were you, exactly? Calling yourself his pet to a stranger feels wrong so you just use the next best term. “Servant.”

“Interesting.” He steps closer and you can see his sharp facial hair that accentuates his defined facial features. His long leather coat is lined with a deep blood red fabric that stands out against his pale white skin. You can’t help but think how handsome this man was.

“My name is Dracule Mihawk, I assume you are expecting me.” Bright golden eyes that almost seem to glow in the dim light of the night regard your form.

“Yes, I’m here to receive you, you can follow me down if you are ready?” You do your best to be formal under the scrutiny and that seems to please him.

“Lead the way.” With a nod you start making your way back down, feeling his eyes on your back the whole time.

The walk is eerily silent, so much so that it’s a relief when you finally get back to the entry cave and see Sir Crocodile standing there in his humanoid form. You shuffle slightly to the side to let Mihawk pass by you.

“Mihawk.” Sir Crocodile greets simply, tone unreadable.

“Crocodile.” Mihawk is equally unreadable until he casts a glance your way. “Is it too much to assume this human is a gift for me?”

You blanch at the question, looking worriedly over to Sir Crocodile. His face quickly pulls up into a sneer. “Don’t you dare lay an undead finger on my pet.”

“Come now Crocodile.” Mihawk is smiling now, but it’s unsettling as you see red flash over his gold eyes. “What use do you have for a human? I could use a new blood source…”

The golden hand quickly transforms into a wickedly sharp hook and loops around Mihawk’s neck as he tries to step closer to you. He growls, deep and guttural as he barely holds himself back. “I’ll rip your head clean off.”

Your heart is racing as Mihawk chuckles and throws his hands up. “Alright, alright. Someone’s grown attached to their pet.”

Crocodile lets the hook linger for a few seconds before it reforms back into a clawed hand. “They’ve proven themselves useful and loyal.”

“Oh I’m sure that’s it.” Mihawk turns back and sits in one of the prepared chairs. You’re not sure what Mihawk is implying there so you cast a confused look to Sir Crocodile.

“You can leave now.” He dismisses you and you nod.

“I’ll be reading if you need me sir.” You bow slightly to Mihawk as well before you leave, despite your fear of him.

You couldn’t leave fast enough, not catching any more conversation between the two of them. You find solace in your reading chair, book settled on your lap even though you can’t bring yourself to read just yet. Your thoughts swim as you finally process how close you were to dying and that Crocodile defended you, willing to kill someone he trusted enough to let in his lair for you. And that last comment from Mihawk… he wasn’t implying what you think he was implying right?

Thank the stars above your book is interesting so at least you can think about something else while you wait and make sure you aren’t needed any more tonight. Almost two hours pass before you see Sir Crocodile darken the entryway for the cavern. You quickly stand up, setting your book down on the chair.

“Do you need-“ You’re cut off by a wave of his clawed hand.

“Come with me.” He’s already walking away so you quickly follow.

You’re led down tunnels you haven’t been down before, going even deeper into the earth. You want to know what’s going on but stop yourself from asking questions that probably won’t get answered anyways. It’s nearly 15 minutes of fast paced walking before you stop at a gigantic set of carved stone doors. A scene of the desert has been carefully etched into the stone, somehow soft and delicate despite the hard working surface. Bracing both his hands on the doors he pushes open and with some effort the doors swing in. He walks in first and after a moment of your hesitation he waves you in as well.

So this was a real hoard.

You find yourself standing on a stone walkway above a giant pit filled with more gold and jewels than you thought existed. The walkway circled the expansive cavern- easily five times the size of the entry cave. You were stunned, mesmerized by the glimmering of the treasures by firelight.

“I told you I’d show you a real hoard.” His voice snaps you back to the moment as he continues to walk and you follow, eyes still glued to the center pit.

You follow him all the way around the radius of the pit until you’re across from the doorway. You come up on a large ornate throne and open overflowing treasure chests. He reaches down into one of the chests and plucks out a piece of jewelry. It’s a gold choker inlaid with more emeralds than you can count before he makes a motion with his other hand.

“Turn around.” You obey without hesitation.

“So obedient…” You feel him right behind you and something drapes around your neck- the cold metal presses into your throat and you know it’s that necklace he pulled out. Surprisingly deft claws clasp it into place as it settles surprisingly comfortably on you.

“Let me see.” As you turn you have to crane your neck up to see him since he’s so close to you- closer than he’s ever been.

“I didn’t think anyone would get confused but apparently I have to mark what is mine better.” The golden claws rake over the metal- over your neck- and your breath hitches. “I think it suits you.”

“It’s beautiful sir.” You can’t see it now but even just from the glimpse you got you know it is- perfectly matching with the clothes he got you.

“Quite.” His eyes rake over you and for once his pupils aren’t those narrow, scrutinizing slits. They are nearly full circles, pushing out that white grey of his irises to almost nothing.

“I want you to say it.” Crocodile’s voice is low, almost a whisper. There’s an almost inaudible rumble from his chest that you can hear. You somehow know exactly what he wants.

“I’m yours.” You look him in the eyes as you say that, his claws pressuring your neck just enough so you know they’re there.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” You feel the heat radiating off his body and there’s not a doubt in your mind he can see how affected you are by him.

His claws continue to play at the edge of the choker while you try not to wither under his touch. You’d take whatever kind of touch he would give you but that doesn’t mean you still don’t want more. The desperate thought of him wrapping that large hand around your neck flits through your head and you shudder.

“What was that pet?” Of course it didn’t go unnoticed, nothing does.

“I was- just thinking, sir.” Your words come out fragmented but that doesn’t seem to bother him, in fact a smirk comes over his face.

“Thinking? What about? Tell me.” He leans down, further invading your space as that hand near your throat keeps you from slinking away.

While it’s hard to admit it to him, you don’t think for a second about disobeying him. “Your hand around my neck.”

A low growl leaves him as he gives you what you want, his hand big enough to fully wrap around your throat. You don’t bite back the moan that leaves you as he grips lightly, fully discarding any shame you have.

“You just need to ask and I’ll give you anything you could ever want. All the gold, all the clothing, all the books this world has to offer. Just say the word.” His grip on your throat keeps your eyes locked with his, showing you how truthful he’s being. Sure, he has a physical grip on you right now, but you can see you have just as much hold over him.

“I want you.”

There’s a moment where you’re confident the world stops moving as his grip reflexively tightens around you. You feel his breath, uneven, fan over your face as he stares down at you.

“Say it again.” He demands, voice little more than a growl.

“I want-“ You don’t get to finish your sentence before you’re being pulled up into a bruising kiss.

There’s nothing gentle or even kind about the way he kisses you. He takes- robbing you of your breath and thoughts as his sharp teeth drag over your lips, drawing blood. When he finally lets you pull away you taste the thick iron of your blood as you gasp for whatever air you can get past his grip around your throat.

It was everything you wanted.

He drags you backwards until he’s sitting in that huge throne and you brace your hands on the armrests as you continue to kiss him. You go breathless many times before he releases his grip on you, head pleasantly swimming from lack of oxygen. You press your forehead to his, the cool scales that dot his hairline running a chill through you.

“Too much for my pet?” He teases, claws slipping under your shirt and up your sides.

“No sir.” To prove yourself somehow you slowly sink down to your knees in front of him, hands drifting from the armrests to his knees. He somehow looked even better from this angle, broad shoulders filling up the throne and the sharp angles of his face gazing down at you.

Claws rake through your hair as you undo the fastening on his pants, an impressive bulge already straining at the fabric. Impressive quickly turns to overwhelming as you push away his clothing and get a full view of him. You had thought many, many times about what he would look like but none of your fantasies really prepared you.

He was massive- intimidatingly so. Your hand reaches out and grips his base and your fingers don’t come close to touching. He’s smoother than you would expect, long as he curves up towards his stomach, ending in an almost angular tip. You bring your mouth to his tip, taking him in just a bit. Salt and earth weigh on your tongue, surprisingly not too unpleasant.

Letting saliva pool in your mouth you messily let it drip down his cock. You pull off of him and use both of your hands to slide up and down his length, coating him in your spit. The hand in your hair grips hard and forces you to look up at him.

“I want you to look at me while you pleasure me pet.” The pain of him pulling your hair only turns you on further.

“Yes sir.” You keep eye contact with him as you take him into your mouth once again, tongue flattening as you slowly push him further into your mouth and down your throat. You can’t take all of him but your hands compensate, sliding up and down the remaining length in time with your mouth. Apparently though, it’s not quite enough.

“Oh, pet, let me-“ Claws dig into your scalp as he holds your head in place and thrusts his hips up to shove his cock further down your throat.

You sputter and gag as he forces himself down further than you thought he could go but he doesn’t let up, holding you there while you adjust. Finally you force your breathing through your nose, tears streaming down your face as you calm your throat down to take him.

“That’s it- knew you could take more- don’t think about a thing just let me fuck that tight little throat of yours.” He continues his assault and you let him, not making a single move to escape his grasp.

Your don’t have enough thought in your head to continue moving your hands so you just hold his base as he uses your throat. All that you can do is take what he’s giving you and do your best to maintain eye contact through the tears. You can only imagine what you look like to him- absolutely debauched as your mouth and throat stretch to accommodate him, tears and spit dripping from your face onto the stone below.

You’re not sure how long you’re like this, knees on the cold stone as you let your face get fucked, losing track of time and just about everything else. It’s only when his thrusts loose their steady rhythm and you can feel the throb of his cock that you snap back, suddenly hearing the words pouring out of Crocodile’s mouth.

“I knew you’d be such a good whore for me- you’re going to swallow what I give you aren’t you pet? It’ll be so easy when I pour it right down your throat-“ At least you know it’s coming and you hum in acknowledgment, the only way you can let him know that you want it too.

That noise in your throat seems to be all that’s needed to push him over the edge as he holds your head tight and spills his cum down your throat. You fight against the urge to gag, doing your best to swallow until he finally releases his grip on the back of your head, letting you pull off and gasp for air. You rest your head on his thigh while you catch your breath and you feel his hand gently brush against your cheek, a sharp contrast to how he was only a few moments ago.

“So good for me… does my pet deserve a reward?” You barely have time to process his words before you’re being moved, world flipping around.

Suddenly you’re sitting in the throne and Crocodile is on his knees in front of you, a predatory grin splitting his face. He doesn’t waste any time, sharp claws tearing and ripping your bottoms clean off. You want to protest but the words die in your throat as he holds your thighs open and stares at you.

“I knew you’d be soaked but all this?” You feel the sharp edge of his claws play at your folds. “My poor pet has been so pent up.”

He kisses up your inner thigh and as he gets closer occasionally his sharp teeth sink into your flesh, just breaking the delicate skin there. After every bite he licks over the wounds and you can’t quite see but you can feel that his tongue is longer than you would expect it to be. Your fists ball at your sides, every pinprick of pain sending a new rush of pleasure through you.

“You can grip onto me if you like, you won’t hurt me.” Hesitantly, you move one of your hands to his hair as he hikes your thighs over his shoulders. “I’ve been waiting to taste you since I first saw you, I just know you’ll be divine.”

His claws somehow don’t rip open you skin as he pries your folds open before diving in with that long, thick tongue. You immediately see stars as pushes his tongue into you and it curls inside you. The pad of his thumb presses down on your clit as he relentlessly swipes against your insides. He pulls back for a second, a single strand of hair falling in his face.

“If you’re going to take me I’ll have to get you ready.” You watch as his golden claws loose their edge but get thicker before they disappear between your legs.

Your legs instinctually wrap around his neck as you feel the cool metal press against your entrance. You hear him chuckle before his tongue swirls around your clit and he presses a single large finger inside you. The moan that leaves you would embarrass you if you were capable of that emotion anymore. The gold is thick and cold inside you, a feeling so weirdly foreign yet amazing.

All of the sensations- his finger inside you, his tongue swirling around your clit, his flesh hand holding your hips down- it’s too much. Crying out and griping his hair you cum all over his finger and tongue. Despite your orgasm Crocodile doesn’t let up for a second though, a second finger slipping inside you while your mind and body buzzed off the high.

“You’re going to have to get a lot looser than that pet.” The two fingers make a scissoring motion inside you and he uses the gap he creates to snake his tongue inside you as well.

You nearly yell in pleasure as his tongue reaches spots you can only dream of finding with your own fingers. Without thinking your hips move up to try and find more friction but his single hand keeps you pressed down to the velvet fabric of the throne. He shoots you a warning glare that only makes you want more. You’re already sensitive from the orgasm you just had so it’s not too long before you’re chanting his title and wrapping your legs ever tighter around the back of his neck. His tongue pulls out and you whine at the loss but it’s short lived as it travels up to your clit, flicking over it before you feel the very edges of his teeth scrape that sensitive bud and you feel like your nerves light on fire.

You’re gushing over his fingers again and he finally stops moving, pressing more kisses and bites into your inner thighs. Once your legs finally relax he slides his fingers out and uses both his hands to grip your waist as he flips your positions once again. This time as he sits on the throne you’re positioned on his lap, his length already sliding against your folds.

“Do you think you’re ready to take me?” His mouth finds your neck, teeth scraping against skin as you grind against his cock. “Or are you going to get off like this?”

“No- please I need you inside me.” You force yourself to stop moving to prove your point.

“Hm… you’re almost ready…” One of his sharp claws rips open your top from the center causing it too fall loose from your shoulders. Now all that’s left on you is that golden choker. “Perfect.”

Just one of his hands is enough to lift you up, the other hand lining up his cock with your entrance. You gasp as his tip presses into you, already stretching you out as much as his fingers. Digging your nails into the fur lining of his coat, somehow still situated on his shoulders, you do your best to stay relaxed as Crocodile pushes inch after inch into you.

“I- fuck- you’re too big-“ You sputter out as you feel him getting deeper, pushing your body to its limits.

“You just- fuck pet- you just need to relax. You can take it. I know you can.” You feel the cold metal of his gold hand rub tight circles around your clit. “You’re gripping me so tight just let me in.”

“I’m-“ You feel like you’re being ripped in half but there’s something about the pain of the stretch that feels so good.

You’re already so overstimulated and the filthy words in your ear and the quick movements of his fingers are too much. You cum with a wordless scream, burying your face into Crocodile’s neck. Taking advantage of how your body contracts and then relaxes during your orgasm he shoves his cock in the rest of the way- tip suddenly shoving against your cervix and sending a wave of pain through your body. You hit his shoulder and he pulls back slightly, soothing kisses pressed against your throat.

“See thats it, you could take me pet, see?” His hand rubs over your abdomen and lightly pushes you back. “Look at that.”

You look down and see your stomach bulging out slightly, showing you how far his cock had gone in you. Crocodile pushes down on the bulge with his hand, fascinated by the way your body takes him. You can only whine, uselessly clawing at his jacket as he sits inside you, unmoving.

“So fucking tight and warm pet. I should have had you like this from the first night you came here. But now that you’re here-“ His hips finally move, each thrust sharp and deep. “You’re never going anywhere else. You’re mine.”

“I’m yours- I’m- Sir please it’s- it’s too much-“ Three orgasms had put all your nerves on edge, each slide of his cock inside you overwhelming.

“Oh you can take it. You’re doing so well pet- just a little more-“ He quickens his pace and you cry out before he captures your lips with his own and swallows all your noises.

Pushed past where you thought you could go everything goes a bit numb, head fuzzy in a pleasant way. You give yourself up to him, let him take whatever he wants from you as you surrender. There’s no more thoughts in your head and you can barely hear the nasty things he’s whispering in between kisses. You’ve never felt like this before and you loved it.

The fog clears slightly when Crocodile nips at your earlobe. “I’m going to fill you up pet- how’s that sound?”

You can only moan in response, you’d be fine with whatever he asked you at this point.

“That’s it- so fucking perfect for me- taking it all for me and letting me fill you up- just like-“ He shifts his hips and thrusts faster, hitting deep inside you. “Need you to cum again, come on pet, grip me tight like that again-“

“I- I don’t know if-“ Your protests are quickly drowned out.

“Yes you can- come on now.” He presses against your abused clit again and your body caves to his demands as your walls convulse around him.

You feel his warm seed pour into you, mixing with your cum and gushing out onto both of your thighs. You’re only somewhat aware of how much cum he spilled into you, still leaking out of him as he slowly pulls out of you. Instinctively you wrap your arms around your neck and pull him close and you feel a warm chuckle in his chest.

“Does my pet need some affection?” Hair is brushed out of your face as one arm holds you close to his chest. “You’ve done such a good job.”

You feel him stand up but you’re secure against his large body as you’re carried off somewhere. Things are still fuzzy and you can’t track the turns down the tunnels but you feel the air grow damper until you hear the sound of running water.

“You’re going to have to let go for a moment.” He tells you gently and you obey, arms sliding off as he sets you down.

It isn’t until your feet hit water that you realize this cave is one giant hot spring. You immediately shuffle forward until you’re mostly covered with the warm water, the heat sinking into your already sore muscles. Crocodile, finally naked, joins you a few moments later, scooping you up from behind. He carries you over to a spot where he can sit and still be mostly covered with water and you stay curled up in his lap.

You’re so tired, mind and body exhausted from the night. It doesn’t even startle you when you feel Crocodile’s tail possessively wrap around your legs while his arms hold you at your waist. Drifting in and out of consciousness you occasionally feel him washing parts of you off, the smell fragrant soaps pushing you even farther to sleep.

You wake up slightly when it’s time to get out of the water, skin pruning from the over exposure. You towel yourself off and Crocodile wraps you in a soft robe before sweeping you off your feet once again.

It’s not long before you’re back in your room, gently laid in bed. You pull the covers over yourself as Crocodile scans over your body.

“Have a good night pet.” He says, rubbing your shoulder before taking a few steps away.

“Wait.” Your words stop his leaving and he casts you a questioning glance. “You said I could have anything I want?”

“Yes, of course.” He walks back over to you.

“Then… could you stay the night with me?”

Sir Crocodile isn’t easily readable, you’ve been fighting to understand his thoughts for months now through glances and sparse words. He was unmovable, strong, fearsome.

But you don’t miss the way his face softens at your request.

“Whatever you ask.” He slides into bed next to you and after some adjusting your back is pressed against his chest. His arms wrap around your middle and that large tail rests over your leg. You feel safe, secure, against his large frame.

“Sleep well my treasure.”

[make-me-imagine]

Confession + Relationship Headcanons {K.GW & H.WJ}

Confession + General Relationship Headcanons with Kim Geon-Woo and Hong Woo-Jin (Bloodhounds)

Pairing: Kim Geon-Woo x Gn!Reader; Hong Woo-Jin x Gn!Reader + Geon-Woo x Reader x Woo-Jin headcanons because why not lol.

Requested By: Anonymous

Warnings: Some headcanons revolving around physical affection and kissing. Poly-Headcanons; listed separately and labelled so avoid if you're not into that.

Words: Geon-Woo: 0.5k ; Woojin: 0.4k; Poly: 0.7k Total Word Count: ~1.6k

A/n: Me coming back from hiatus with content for a show no one follows me for? It's more likely than you think!

Kim Geon-Woo

Geon-Woo is fairly reserved until he gets to know someone, so even if he was attracted to you he would keep it to himself until he got to know you better.

He is a big believer in needing to be friends with someone first before starting a relationship.

Even though he waits until you form a bond of friendship, he is head over heels for you, and it is obvious, even to you eventually.

Caught staring at you too often not to notice.

Always offers to help you, or does random things for you.

You make him blush pretty easily, and smile all the time.

Like, giggling and kicking his feet kind of guy if you do something he finds cute.

You would worry you assumed wrong though since he never said anything, but then finally he does confess.

He does it in a reserved and shy way after he walked you home from having dinner with him and Woojin.

He will struggle to keep eye contact at first, but then he will finally get a hold of himself and tell you how he feels.

He will list the things he loves about you, how long he a felt this way, and how much he wants to be with you.

Geon-Woo is ecstatic when you confess you feel the same.

He asks to hold your hand, and is all cute and smiley when you say yes.

Geon-woo loves holding your hand, especially when you are walking around together.

If your hands are a lot smaller than his?? LOVES to engulf your hands in his, especially if you are cold.

Totally the type to give you his jacket when you are cold, even if he is too.

Surprises you with flowers and food to make you smile.

His giving love languages are Acts of Service, Quality Time, and Gift Giving.

His main receiving Love Language is Quality Time, but he enjoys physical touch as well.

He loves hugging you, often from behind so he can rest his head on yours or on your shoulder (depending on the height difference)

He also loves kissing, especially slow kisses when cuddling, you but all of that stays in private.

When you say goodbye to each other he often gives you a kiss to your hand, or forehead though.

And if you kiss him (mainly in public or in front of others) he gets all shy and cute.

Since he loves spending time with or around you, you two go on a lot of cute dates.

Going to the movies, arcades, walks, hiking, short road trips, picnics, museum dates, anything that involves just the two of you is amazing to him.

He is very caring and gentle, and is quite protective without being controlling.

He will always give you space when you need it, and will always be here when you want comfort or company.

Ride or Die, simp, giant green flag, he is all of the above. When he loves he loves with his whole heart and nothing less.

Hong Woo-Jin

Woojin is more bold than Geonwoo so he wouldn't really hide his feelings, or beat around the bush.

Once he meets you and realizes he is very much into you, he is ready to test the waters.

Flirts immedietely.

If you reciprocate and flirt back, he is surprised yet ecstatic.

If you are shy and bashful about it, he finds it adorable and it only makes him want to flirt more just to see you blush.

It took you some time though to realize he was being serious.

He saw someone else showing interest and panicked because he feared he would lose his chance to actually be with you.

When he confessed, his boldness seemed to vanish and he grew shyer than you had ever seen.

He showed up with flowers, a jittery demeanor and a lot of rambling.

But it was honestly adorable.

You were admittedly, a bit surprised to learn he had not just been flirting but had truly been trying to pursue you.

So when he asked you on a date, you were more than happy to say yes.

He is very fun to be in a relationship with. He is down to do pretty much anything and nothing, as long as it is with you.

His love languages, both giving and receiving are Quality Time, Words of Affirmation and Physical Affection.

He is perfectly open to PDA so it depends on how you feel about it.

If you are fine with it, he will be all over you whenever he wants (which is often), if you do not like it, he will stick to an arm around your waist or his hand in yours until you are alone together.

If you initiate PDA he gets giddy he loves it.

Loooves kissing, doesn't care if there are others around to see it (again this depends on you - he wont do things you are uncomfortable with.)

When it is just the two of you he loves being close to you.

Dates with Woojin are often fun and involve some form of activity, and usually food.

Arcades, bowling, mini golf, theme parks, etc..

The dates often last for hours or even a whole day because you enjoy being with each other so much.

He is clingy so even if you want some time alone it is often that he is nearby. He will give you your space, but the second you are fine with him being there he appears like a puppy that had been waiting for you to get home from work.

Will cook for you and take you out to eat all kinds of food.

If you cook for him, he will help you or clean up afterwards.

Will go to the ends of the Earth to protect you and make you happy. Definitely a ride or die kind of boyfriend.

Geon-Woo + Woo-Jin (Poly Relationship)

Being in a relationship with both Geon-Woo an Woo-jin would happen slowly.

Geon-Woo an Woo-jin do not have romantic feelings for one another, but they are so close that being with the same partner poses no issues for them.

In a way they prefer it, they spend so much time together and are so close that having the same partner makes sense in a way.

When they first realized that they both had strong feelings for you thy both backed off, not wanting to steal the others desired partner.

But then, they figured out you had feelings for both of them as well.

Woo-Jin was the first to bring up a possible poly situation to Geon-Woo.

Geon-Woo admittedly was thrown off about this at first, not sure if it would really work out.

But there feelings for you were so strong, and they were so close he couldn't really find any issues with it.

And the idea of one of them being with you and the other not didn't sit well with them, so it was a both or neither situation.

But they were both worried you would hate the idea, and they didn't want to lose you completely so they were cautious about it.

First they both made their feelings for you known, and in a way courted you equally.

You noticed it immedietely and withdrew a bit, because the idea of choosing one and the other being hurt was something you could not do.

Noticing you were running they decided to admit they both had feelings for you and both wanted to be with you.

You were thrown off, confused, and worried it was something they actually didn't want but said it solely to appease each other.

They took the time to explain to you their feelings and how much they both cared about you, and each other.

Every question you had, they had an answer or solution for, and eventually you couldn't really find any issues with it.

You decided to try it out slowly at first, but it quickly felt so right and normal that it became a real relationship pretty quickly.

Everyone who knew you knows the three of you are super close, so none of them really suspect you are in a relationship.

They could see them hugging you and playfully flirting with you and not bat an eyelash.

There is rarely a day the three of you aren't together or around each other.

If you work out, you work out with them - two free personal trainers, and they're hot? If you don't work out you still get to watch them work out. Its a win win situation.

Some days you go on individual dates with them, doing something one prefers over the other.

Then the three of you often go on a group date. Either to the movies, out to eat, a picnic, bowling or activity dates etc. Often having small competitions between the three of you to see who pays.

You are always between them. When sitting, standing, sleeping, cuddling. It's like having two constant teddy bears.

Once your relationship got more serious, Woojin convinced everyone to get giant beds so it didn't matter whose house you were at, if you wanted to sleep over, there was room for all three of you.

Group chat called "Sunshine Protection Squad" because they are basically your body guards. (You are sunshine if that wasn't obvious)

Anyone bothering you? Creepy guys hitting on you? Dangerous situation? They are there ready to protect.

They teach you self-defense and how to fight for times they are not there.

Woojin calls you sunshine and/or sunflower, while Geo-Woo calls you babe/baby or flower. (And also Princes if that matches your pronouns). You are passenger princess no matter what btw.

They like taking care of you, even if it can be overwhelming or stifling. Though they do give you space and alone time when you need it.

They get very good at being able to tell what you want or need even before you say anything.

You are always fed, hydrated and taken care of because they will never let anything bad touch you if they can help it.

xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

-Taglist Form- *Bloodhounds has been added to form

[joeyalohadream]

Saturday Softness

Happy weekend every one! I'm going to start writing short little fluffy Clegan stories every weekend as a little treat to myself. Either Saturday or Sunday each week! Here's the first one featuring: post-war buckies (established relationship, as usual with me), a sick Gale, a fussy John and some soft, fluffy goodness!

“Buck?”

The lights are still on in their sitting room, in the kitchen despite the late hour. Paired with the fact that the front door was still unlocked, Bucky could only assume Gale was having one of his late night study sessions. He let his truck keys drop from his fingers onto the coffee table and stepped out of his shoes.

He wasn’t supposed to be home until the following day. They’d flown all over the country in the last week, giving the new pilots experience with long duration flights and while Bucky had loved every minute of it, he had been silently relieved when they’d cancelled the last trip due to weather issues and changed course for home.

Eight days away from their little slice of heaven out in the middle of nowhere, eight days without Gale, was more than enough to have Bucky feeling homesick. It’s the longest they’ve been apart since they found this property and Bucky’s already dreading the next time his job pulls him away for more than an average work day.

He walks through the sitting room and down the hall into the kitchen. Dishes are piled in the sink and Bucky feels an immediate pang of worry as he takes in the mess. Gale’s books and papers from school are haphazardly laying on the kitchen table, the coffee pot is half full and gone cold, his shoes aren’t neatly lined up by the back door and his coat is slung over the back of a chair instead of in its usual spot in the closet.

Gale isn’t a messy person. He cleans and organizes their home with a dedication that borderlines on obsessiveness and seeing the kitchen in disarray sends Bucky to the stairs immediately.

“Buck?”

His car was out front, he has to be home. There’s nothing around them for miles.

Silence greets him still as he makes his way up the stairs and into the hall.

Gale had been doing well when he’d left. They both are plagued with nightmares, both in sleep and while awake, but the frequency of them had decreased the longer they’d been home. They both had bad days, days when everything is too much, and the memories are too heavy to do much other than breathe and exist. But he’d called home just yesterday and Gale had been fine.

Bucky had listened to him ramble on about his classes and about some kind of theoretical physics problem that was giving him trouble but that he was enjoying working out. Despite not understanding a word of what he’d been listening to, he’d listened and made encouraging noises and soaked up the excitement in Gale’s voice with a smile on his face.

That was thirty-six hours ago, and Gale had been fine. But now he left a mess in the kitchen and he left all the lights on downstairs and he left the front door unlocked and Gale doesn’t do any of those things when he’s fine.

Their bedroom door is open, and the light is on but he’s not there and Bucky feels his heart pound in chest as he takes in another empty room.

“Buck?” He raises his voice and peeks his head into the spare bedroom that’s never been used and still isn’t being used.

A muffled noise catches his ears and he makes his way to the end of the hall where their bathroom door is cracked open. Modesty be damned, he doesn’t bother knocking, too panicked to care if Gale is simply doing his business.

The sight that greets him when he pushes into the small room melts his heart and breaks it in one go.

Gale is sitting on the tiled floor, back reclined against the tub, knees pulled up and arms wrapped around them, head pillowed atop. He’s wearing Bucky’s sweatpants and Bucky’s sleep shirt and he looks too small and too vulnerable and he hasn’t acknowledged Bucky’s presence and Bucky hasn’t seen his eyes yet.

“Buck?” He lowers his voice and winces when it still makes the smaller man flinch. But it also makes him raise his head and then blue eyes, red rimmed and a little swollen are looking up him, confusion and something that looks a little like relief shining in them.

“John?”

Bucky practically sinks forward and lands on his knees in front Gale when that raspy voice hits him, quiet and weak and wrecked.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

“What’re you doin’ here? You’re not comin’ back ‘till tomorrow.”

Bucky reaches forward and pushes sweaty bangs from Gale’s forehead, smooths them back and then lets his hand slide back forward to cradle the other man’s jaw.

“Last flight got scrapped, but that doesn’t matter,” Bucky tells him. He’s relieved he found Gale safe and sound, but his worry has only increased. “Why are you on the floor? Are you sick?”

Gale nods miserably and then lets the weight of his head rest in Bucky’s palm.

“Stomach thing,” Gale rasps out. “Got sick so many times I figured I’d just stay here. Saves me a trip.”

A small smile tugs at Bucky’s lips but doesn’t settle as he takes in the sorry state of his man.

“How long have you been getting sick for?”

“Don’t know. What time it is?” Gale shrugs.

“It’s late, after midnight,” Bucky tells him. He smooths his thumb over a pale cheek and watches a pout form on Gale’s lips.

“Since afternoon,” Gale breathes out. “Think my lunch did this to me.”

He looks up at Bucky with big blue eyes and Bucky can’t help but smile at the betrayal in them.

“Want me to kill it for you?”

“Yeah,” Gale nods against his hand. “It’s the casserole in the glass pan. Make it suffer.”

A laugh barks out of Bucky, and he loves the small smile that pulls at Gale’s own face at the sound.

“Missed you,” Gale mumbles, staring at him. “Missed you a lot.”

“I missed you too.” Affection blooms in his chest. “When was the last time you got sick, huh? Think it’s safe to relocate somewhere more comfortable?”

He watches as Gale lifts his head and eyes the toilet to the right with narrowed eyes, brow furrowing. “Think it’s been a while. Don’t wanna get sick in our room again though.”

Bucky’s heart gives a painful lurch at the recrimination in his tone. He wraps his hand around Gale’s fingers and gives them a squeeze.

“You got sick in our room?”

“The first time. I cleaned it up,” Gale tells him, eyes getting brighter, and Bucky feels unreasonably guilty for not being home earlier. It couldn’t have been helped but imaging Gale sick and miserable and scrubbing his own mess off the floor in their room makes him want to put in for early retirement and never leave his side again.

“Of course you did,” Bucky squeezes his fingers again and then stands up, still holding the hand in his. “Let’s get you off the floor, Buck. I’ll help you back in if you need it.”

Gale heaves a put-upon sigh but pushes himself to his feet. Before he completes the transition though, he’s pitching forward and falls easily into Bucky’s chest with a quiet noise of discomfort.

“Easy, I gotcha,” Bucky takes the opportunity and wraps Gale in his arms, presses his lips into the sweaty mess of hair atop his head before he tucks it under his chin. “Dizzy?”

He feels Gale nod against his collarbone, so he rubs up and down his back, feeling trembling muscles under his palm. Gale wraps both arms around his waist and squeezes with a surprising amount of strength.

“I really missed you,” he mumbles the words into Bucky’s uniform shirt.

Bucky closes his eyes against the emotions welling in him.

“I need to brush my teeth,” he says next, but he makes no move to extract himself from Bucky’s hold, seems to melt further into him instead and Bucky chuckles into his hair.

“Let’s freshen you up and get you to bed.”

He brackets Gale against the sink, a long line of support against his back as Gale brushes his teeth and splashes water on his face. It leaves the ends of his hair damp and curling and Bucky smiles at him in the mirror when their eyes meet in the glass.

It’s a slow shuffle down the hall and into their bedroom and Bucky warms inside when Gale refuses to swap Bucky’s ratty sweats for his own pajamas. He has a feeling Gale has been wearing his clothes to bed since he left, and it makes something possessive curl around his heart.

Gale’s arms are shaking as he lowers himself into their bed and he looks exhausted by the time Bucky pulls their sheets and quilt up to his chin. He sits on the edge of the bed and lets his hand rest on Gale’s forehead, fingers playing with the damp hair there.

“I was going to be waiting for you here when you got home tomorrow,” Gale’s tired rasp is quiet and soothing in the dark room. “Had a whole plan. Was gonna really blow your mind.”

“Is that right?” Bucky grins down at him. He imagines coming home to an empty house, yelling Gale’s name like he’d done tonight as he explored the rooms and finding him naked in their bed instead of sick and miserable on their bathroom floor. It would have ended with him keeping Gale in bed the entire night and most of the next day, and it still is ending that way. Just under less appealing circumstances. “I would’ve loved that.”

“I’m sorry you came home to this instead.” The guilt in his tone has Bucky moving his hand into his hair, scratching at his scalp.

“None of that, now,” he chides. “This isn’t your fault.”

They watch each other in the low light shining in from the hallway, a comfortable silence settling as Bucky continues dancing his fingers through Gale’s hair.

Bucky can’t help but wonder what Gale’s night would have ended like if his trip hadn’t been cut short. Would he have slept on the bathroom floor? When he finally got up, would a dizzy spell have taken him down without Bucky there to catch him? He could’ve cracked his head on the sink, on the floor. Bucky could’ve come home to a nightmare scenario and the thoughts make his breathe stutter and his eyes burn.

He hates seeing Gale sick, injured, sad, scared. He had his fill of it during the war and he knows they haven’t escaped it, but he wishes he could banish every bad thing from this home and they could just live in the soft, safe comfort of one another.

“Hey,” Gale breaks him from his spiraling thoughts, brow scrunching and he gets a hand out from under the quilt and latches it onto the end of Bucky’s tie. “Quit worrying. I’m alright.”

“How do you know that’s what I’m doing?”

“It’s what you’ve been doin’ since you met me, Bucky.” The look on Gale’s face is fond, tender even.

“Well, can ya blame me?” Bucky untangles cold fingers from his tie and covers them with his own. “One look at you, with that sweet smile and those big blue eyes and I was a goner, Buck. Knew I needed to keep ya.”

Gale’s pale face gets some color, cheeks pinking as he turns his head into the pillow.

“And the first time I saw you do that,” Bucky lets the hand in Gale’s hair drift down to graze his finger over the heated skin over Gale’s cheek, the bridge of his nose. “I knew I needed to see it every day for the rest of my life.”

“Stop,” Gale mumbles into the pillow, bashful as always in the face of Bucky’s affections. Bucky pinches his chin between his thumb and index finger and turns his head.

“Never.” He punctuates the word with a gentle press of his lips to Gale’s and feels the smaller man melt into pillow beneath him, a soft smile sitting on his face when he pulls back.

“Come to bed?” Gale’s fingers bunch around his shirt and give him a tug. “Missed falling asleep with you.”

He’s blinking slower, exhaustion etched across his features.

“I’m going to get you some water and something light to eat.” Gale pulls a face at his words and Bucky clucks his tongue. “Don’t argue. You need food and you’re probably dehydrated as hell.”

Gale pouts up at him and gives his shirt another tug, but Bucky holds firm.

“Just give me twenty minutes to clean up the kitchen and lock up the downstairs. Rest a bit until I get back with the goods.”

“The kitchen,” Gale starts, eyes wider than before.

“Shut it, Buck.” Bucky scolds. “You’re sick and you’re allowed to leave the dishes in the sink. Let me take care of everything.” He clears stubborn hair off Gale’s forehead to create a place for his lips and kisses the space between his eyebrows. “Let me take care of you.”

When he sits back up, Gale’s eyes are closed but he blinks them open a moment later.

“I’m really glad your home, John.”

“Me too, baby.” He pulls the quilt back up and tucks Gale’s arm back under. Fusses for a minute and places a trash bin on the floor within reach by Gale’s head. The sick man eyes it with an embarrassed huff but doesn’t protest that it might be necessary.

“You shout if you need me, alright?” Bucky tells him, hand splayed over his chest on top of the covers, thumb brushing idly back and forth. “I’m gonna go murder the casserole that hurt my sweetheart.”

Gale’s breathy chuckle follows him out the door and he speeds up his steps and lengthens his strides, eager to get out of his uniform and into their bed.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Can you do Barbie x female!reader where Barbie returns to the real world and falls head over heels for the reader and vice versa?

-Greek myth anon 📜

You first met Barbie for a short time when she's crying outside the school, feeling hurt and anxious for the first time in her life.

You didn't initially know who she was, assuming she was going through a rough breakup.

But while her eccentric pink cowgirl outfit threw you off for a moment, you didn't wanna just leave her alone. You'd feel bad for the rest of the day.

So as a women concerned for a fellow women, you approached her.

"Hey, um..are you alright-?"

"No!" She bawls. "Is this what the Real World's supposed to be like?? Where girls hate you and men objectify you?? None of this makes any sense!! Ever since I got here I started having all these weird emotions and I feel all mushy and....oh no....that's exactly what Weird Barbie warned me about!!"

"Girl, that's all part of the universal.....wait, did you say Barbie?" You blinked.

"Y-Yes..I'm Barbie. Stereotypical Barbie, actually." She sniffles, confused when you sit beside her and offer a tissue/handkerchief. "O-Oh..thank you so much...?"

"[Y/n]." You say as she dries her tears. "You know I used to love those dolls growing up. They've entertained me for hours as a little girl. So...I guess I should thank you for giving me a good childhood, assuming you really are a Barbie."

That's genuinely the nicest thing any human's said to her so far, and you give her a hug to express your support and comfort.

She cries again, but she's happy this time (much to her confusion), and you tell her that humans cry for all kinds of reasons..so it's nothing she should be too worried about.

Sadly the sweet moment doesn't last long as she's whisked away to Mattel in a black SUV, although you hold onto hope that you'll see her again.

And you eventually do in a place you least expected to find her: the gynecologist.

Barbie--now taking on the human name "Barbra"--explains how she left her "dollness" behind, being reasonably nervous, but you reassure her this is a great first step towards embracing both her humanity and womanhood.

After your appointments, you hang out together and exchange phone numbers, keeping in touch and texting back-and-forth.

You end up going on shopping trips together, getting coffee/pastries, getting your nails done, going to small concerts, etc. Just fun little things humans (and women) typically do.

If anyone tries harassing you, you're each other's best defenders.

Barbie's quick to fall head over heels for you now that she truly got to know and spend time with you.

You're funny, kind, protective...and the first person to ever ask if she was okay when she visited the Real World.

When she's not with you, she's gushing over you to Gloria and Sasha (who had to be the ones to tell her that she's in love).

Likewise, you were in love with her too, getting warm and fuzzy feelings just from looking into her eyes and seeing her smiles and radiant optimism.

Eventually you both confessed (at the exact same time), and while it's a little awkward, you're finally a couple and end up moving in together.

You love listen to her ramble about the next exciting thing she just learned about human culture (esp the technology).

"So you're saying this is Alexa and she knows everything????" Barbie points to the device in your kitchen. "And she can play any song???"

"Pretty much, yeah." You chuckle, smiling as she asks Alexa to play "Ain't It Fun" by Paramore.

She starts dancing, and you join in, singing along to the lyrics.

Indeed, she finds it fun living in the Real World with you <3

[the-mandawhor1an]

Europa (Frankie Morales x afab!Reader)

ausa est quoque regia virgo nescia, quem premeret, tergo considere tauri, cum deus a terra siccoque a litore sensim falsa pedum primis vestigia ponit in undis;

the regal maiden even dared to climb atop the bull's back unaware of who she mounted, the god first from land and then from shore set treacherous footsteps toward the waves,  then he goes further and carries his prize across the wide ocean 

Summary: One of your friend’s bachelorette trip takes a sudden turn when a stranger makes advances at you. Prepare to be swept off your feet like in the old tales of the ancient world. 

Word count: 4k 

Warnings: 18+ content, MDNI! No one has a name but Frankie; Slightly dubcon; abduction but make it sexy; the cap stays on; non-explicit descriptions of sexual acts (it’s Frankie, you know what he’s known for); oral (f recieving); fingering; overstim; piv (be responsible and use protection!) 

A/N: This is my part for the Pedro Pantheon event hosted by @beskarandblasters – Kel has since left Tumblr but I finally found inspiration to write this, so I’m still publishing it. My ‘prompt’ was Frankie as Zeus and I  relatively quickly settled on the abduction of Europa. (The other idea was maybe writing about Hermes’s parents but that would be another Maia, haha) Idk, it felt like a nice story to ‘modernize’ and put Frankie in there. I’ve not specified if he actually is the god Zeus, but it can be interpreted, I guess. 

It’s my first time actually narrating sex, so be gentle in your criticism. It’s not proper smut, because I still struggle with being super explicit. Feels vulgar and every fiber of my being hates being vulgar. (more power to you if you can write that shit because you can bet your butts love reading it)

The jetski… I guess I have to blame YSD by @swiftispunk for that one 

The Latin part on top is from Ovid’s Metamorphoses. The translation is not completely mine, unfortunately my Latin is close to nonexistent these days. 

divider made by @saradika-graphics 

and the biggest smooches to @janaispunk for beta'ing for me 💜💜💜💜

It's days like this that make you appreciate not having any ties that weigh you down. Sure, being single can be lonely, but at least you don't have to justify going on a 3 day Bachelorette trip with your friends to anyone. And you'll be the only one who doesn't have to worry about falling for a stranger at the beach. 

The four of you, all dressed in light, flowy dresses to cover your bikinis, arrive at the beach. The white sand is warm underneath your feet, sinking in with every step towards the beach bar. The air is fresh and filled with laughter as you approach the bar, the blue of the ocean slowly merging with the changing sky. Sundown is approaching, although you’ll probably have an hour or so of sunlight left. The bride to be orders the first round of drinks, colorful cocktails. The others talk about their relationships, what their partners are doing while you are out here in literal paradise. You drown out most of the noise, not wanting their discussion to ruin your mood, not interfering with their dialogue either. Part of you can't help feeling jealous, but the thought doesn't linger for too long, as a good looking stranger appears. 

He wears a light shirt and cream colored shorts, the only unusual sight is the navy blue cap that hides most of his what you assume to be dark brown hair. He is very tan, his skin speckled with freckles. A smile is plastered on his lips and you can't help but feel a little flustered when his brown eyes meet yours for a moment. He is gorgeous, like the gods had sculpted him with the utmost care to not make a single flaw. His eyes are dark, his nose prominent and his lips look plump and soft. His beard is well groomed, although one spot on his jawline is missing hair. Weirdly enough, the bald spot almost looks like a heart. 

“Looks like you’re having fun here, ladies. Any chance I can join?” he asks as he leans on the bar with one arm, facing your group. It should be obvious with your friend in all white, but she is willing to let the stranger in on the secret. 

“I’m getting married soon and I wanted to take a little trip with my friends.” She raises her hand to present her engagement ring, a relatively big diamond that sparkles in the slowly setting sun. 

“Oh, congratulations,” he replies with a genuine smile. “I hope he knows he’s a lucky guy.” His gaze wanders between all of the women, finally resting on you for just a moment too long to be accidental. “And your partners are fine with you girls going out for multiple days?” Again, his gaze is fixed on the bride, who gives off group leader vibes right now. And that’s when a mischievous grin forms on a few faces and suddenly all of them look at you. 

“Some of us didn’t need to talk to anyone about leaving for a few days,” your best friend says, giving the man incentive to flirt with you rather than her. You dart her a disapproving look, but now the handsome stranger fixates his attention to you. So much so that he actually switches his place to be closer to you. 

“Nice friends you got there, huh? I’m Frankie,” he takes a sip of his drink. His smile sure is contagious, having you practically beaming at him when you state your name. 

“They are the best. I was the first to start the ‘single forever’ jokes, I don’t mind the teasing,” you explain and take a sip of your cocktail. “What about you? You’re at the beach all by yourself.” He chuckles, a deep rumble that you can barely pick up audibly, but you feel the vibrations. 

“Waiting for my next victim, possibly.” You furrow your brows the same moment when he lifts his hands apologetically. “Sorry, it’s a joke. I live in the area and I just enjoy being here, especially around sunset. Maybe it’s a little rude of me to just approach a group of women clearly enjoying their time but I couldn’t help it.” His index circles the rim of his drink. It almost seems like he is in deep thought, or perhaps just nervous? 

You smile. Part of you wants to think he is nervous because of you. His interest in you is obvious. “How long have you been single?” 

“It’s been a while. I mean, I sometimes miss it, but … I enjoy not having to justify anything. I’m independent and I guess that’s what’s off-putting to so many men in the first place.” You shrug, it’s not like you miss your ex or anything. Sometimes it’s lonelier, yes, but, over all? You’re happy. 

“Sounds more like you’ve met the wrong men. If you ask me, that is.” Frankie takes another sip and mirrors your shrug. As much as you don’t want to agree, it does sound like he’s on to something there. 

“You’re probably right,” you finally confess with a sigh. Your friends never complain about their partners either, so maybe you’re just unlucky with your choice of men. 

“The sun is setting,” the bride interferes, just as you're about to ask Frankie if he'd be the right kind of man. You shoot him an apologetic look as the girls detach from the bar to head down to the shore. He smiles back at you and nods. You feel his gaze linger on you once again as you tread towards where the waves softly caress the light sand rhythmically. The setting sun paints the sky in the most beautiful shades of pink and orange and shifts to purple where it reflects on the water. It really feels like you’re in paradise, an otherworldly escape to mark the beginning of a new chapter in your friend’s life.

“Thank you for taking us here,” you start, resting one hand on her shoulder. The others join in until all of you are intertwined. 

“Of course,” she replies. ”All of you have been in my life for years. I wanted to make sure you know that I appreciate it. And I love y'all. So much. I know times were tough sometimes, and they might be when I turn into bridezilla,” she laughs, “but I know you'll always be there for me. All of you are my best friends and the best bridesmaids I could ever wish for.” A quiet sob escapes her lips as the whole group envelops her in a big hug. You exchange ‘I love you's and stay like this for a good minute. 

As the sun draws closer to the horizon, the saturation of the scenery changes drastically. You never thought you’d see a sunset like this ever, but here you are. 

“All that’s left is for our nun to find a man now,” Bestie intercepts, poking your side with her index. With your middle finger raised, you stick your tongue out towards her. “Frankie looked interested,” she adds. Of course she eavesdropped on your little conversation. Despite what you had told yourself before this trip, you can’t help it – you think about his soft smile, how his cheeks show a little shadow where dimples form. 

Your gaze scans over the horizon. Birds fly high in the sky and far in the distance are little spots moving on the water. You assume these to be boats, maybe even yachts, when a noise draws closer. At first it is low, almost like a mosquito whirr, just deeper, but as it gets louder you can identify it as an engine. A white jet ski appears in your peripheral. “Well, speak of the devil,” you hum as you recognize that same navy blue cap. 

“The beach is so large and yet you decide to come back and interrupt us once again,” you roll your eyes at him, a sheepish smile plastered on his face. How could anyone be mad at him? Somehow, he is like personified sunshine. Just… making you smile even if you didn’t want to. 

“I’m really sorry. But I have my reasons. No one this pretty should shed tears on one of the most beautiful beaches on this planet. It destroys the magic.” He grins as he dismounts from the jet ski. With an outstretched hand, he offers the girls to take little spins.

No one accepts the offer at first. That is until your best friend sits on the machine and draws small circles on the water, revving the engine whenever the back of the jet ski is pointed away from the group. The water that gets kicked up paints a rainbow against the colorful sky. Frankie stands beside you, taking the sight in just like you are. 

“Looks fun, huh?” he leans over and asks. You nod, but don’t turn your head away from the water. 

“It does.” 

“You should try it.” 

“I can’t. I’m … I’ve never been on one.” 

“It’s not that hard. Wouldn’t say like riding a bike but you’ll get used to it quickly.” Now you turn your head and watch him bite his lower lip, practically gnawing on it until he realizes you’re looking at him. “If you want to, you can hop on while I drive you around.” 

Originally you want to decline the offer, but you’ve never been one to make the best choices. “Alright. But don’t rev the engine like that. I will jump off,” you finally say with a nod towards your best friend, who has the time of her life. Something in the pit of your stomach warns you to be careful, but those warm, deep brown puppy eyes make you forget any walls you had put up. 

It's your turn and despite his offer, you sit in front. Frankie has no issue practically welding himself to your back to be able to touch the handlebar. The girls cheer from the shore as the engine starts and you slowly glide over the water. Maybe you should worry about not wearing a life jacket, but then again, you are in shallow water. 

Right? 

You're distracted by the sensation of him pressing into you, your back melting into his chest. The water is nice and just the right temperature, not too cold on your skin whenever a few drops land there after a turn. “See, it's not that bad,” Frankie hums from behind you, taking one of his hands from the handle to glide over your thigh. A shiver goes down your spine and you inhale audibly. 

As you turn back, a grin is plastered on his lips. You mirror the expression. “You were right. Not bad at all.” Your gaze lingers on his lips. He's so close, all you'd have to do is lean in and… 

“You want to go a little faster?” he asks, interrupting the mental image that had just formed in your mind. Soft lips on yours, his scruff scratching your skin gently. Burying your fingers in his hair. Fuck. Part of you wants to go all the way with him. 

With a nod you give him permission, holding onto the handle as well, just to make sure you won't fall off. Frankie shows you how to steer and accelerate, allowing you to try for yourself. His arms wrap around you while you take a few turns. It might be your mind playing tricks on you but you're almost certain he is grinding into you. Plus, you can't deny that you enjoy the sensation. 

“Feels good, doesn't it?” he whispers in your ear and leans down, placing a kiss on your shoulder. A little groan escapes him as he once again rolls his hips against your butt. 

“Frankie,” you hiss, but as one of his palms brushes over your thigh again, you turn silent. 

“Let's get out of the water, huh?” The purr in his words drives you mad, an ache forms in your core. 

Fueled by your reaction, Frankie continues to place soft kisses along your neck and shoulder. Completely distracted by the sensation of his lips on your skin, you don’t pay much attention to where you are going. 

It is, in fact, your friends’ voices calling your name that pull you back to reality, barely louder than a whisper over the roar of the engine underneath you. You turn your head, the shore behind you is so far away you can barely make out your friends in the distance. Not only that, the distance is increasing. You face Frankie as best as you can without completely letting go of the handle. 

“Frankie, what the actual fuck? This isn’t funny!” you scream at him. A normal conversation was off the table the moment he decided to take you out on the open ocean. The jet ski slows, the engine’s roar dying down to a low hum as you glide over the water with the leftover momentum. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. His eyes avoid your death-stare, but as you try and dismount from the machine, he wraps both arms around your torso, effectively locking you into place. “Hey, relax. If you jump off you’re out in the open. Shore’s too far away for you to swim. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” 

“That’s very comforting while you’re pressing me into your chest.” You try to push away from him, to no avail. “Just take me back. Please.” 

“Can I show you something first?” 

Part of you wants to spit a ‘Fuck no’ into his stupid, pretty face but it’s like you’ve suddenly forgotten how to say no. Something in the softness of his gaze convinces you to at least try. If he wanted to hurt you, he would just do it, right? 

Right? 

 “You better make this worth the almost-heart attack I just had,” you finally grumble, your face turned forward. He places more kisses on your neck as the journey continues. 

A short travel later, you end up on another beach. The sand looks cleaner than the beach next to the bar, and it is suspiciously quiet. The sun has set, only the orange tint on the horizon remains. Frankie is not even an after thought as you walk over the beach towards the forest that presumably separates you from civilization. 

There, in the shade of large palm trees, you find a small hut. Fairy lights are attached to the roof, giving off soft, colorful light, inviting you to come closer. The door is open, so you set one foot inside. “Hello?” you call out and wait for an answer. Carefully you walk inside further and look around. 

The inside is dimly lit, warm yellow lightbulbs create an overly cozy atmosphere. The hut barely has more than a bed, a small bathroom and a tiny cooking corner. It shows no signs of any recent tenants, the bed looks freshly made, though. You see no phone to maybe figure out how to get back. 

You’ve wasted all your time being in awe of the little getaway house, as now Frankie appears in the doorway again. “I’m sorry for scaring you,” he apologizes. You scoff and cross your arms in front of your chest. That’s not enough. You shake your head. “You’ve abducted me, Frankie. What the actual fuck, are you going to murder me now?” 

Frankie tries to come closer, but you take a step back. He looks heartbroken at the realization that you are, in fact, scared of him. A little. 

“I don’t want to do anything,” he again pleads. A hand reaches out to you, touches your arm and you let it happen. “I will not hurt you. I might be an idiot but I’m not an asshole. I wanted to be alone with you and thought the jet ski would impress you.”

“And what an idiot you are. A normal person would just ask to be alone with someone, not kidnap them.” And he knows you’re right. Although the jet ski left an impression. It’s hard to deny that. 

“Would you have abandoned your friends for a stranger?” 

“Well, you’ll never find out.” 

He sighs in defeat. You let your guard down, even as he draws in closer until you’re standing chest to chest. Slowly you start to believe him not wanting to hurt you. “Do you want me to take you back?” he asks. His eyes are darting between your eyes and your lips. Your heart rate picks up. The sensation of his lips on your skin still drives you wild. 

“Yes, please.” You look up to him, into the chocolatey brown eyes of his. His lips curl up into a smile as a thought seems to materialize. 

“What?” 

“It’s such a shame.” 

“What is?” 

Now both of his hands are on your arms, the top of his fingers barely graze over your skin and cause goosebumps to form. “You have such beautiful eyes. It is a shame that all they’re full of right now is the anger you feel for me. It’s a shame that your soft and warm skin is covered in goosebumps due to my touch. And the biggest shame of all is that your lips quiver with rage when all I want to do is kiss them to show you how sorry I am.” 

That hits you like lightning. 

Your eyes widen but before you can properly react to anything he said, you feel the same soft lips you had felt on your neck, now on your own lips. He’s soft and careful at first, but as soon as your arms wrap around him, any regards are thrown out the window. A soft, breathy moan escapes your lips as he pulls you in closer, allowing you to feel the muscles underneath his shirt. 

“Allow me to make it up to you, beautiful,” he purrs against your lips. How could anyone resist? 

How can you? 

Instead of an answer, you catch his lips once again. Frankie takes that as a clear yes and pushes you into the wall behind you. Now that you're pinned, he lifts one of your legs by the knee. The kisses turn more heated as he grinds his pelvis into yours. 

The softest little curses escape his lips whenever they let go of yours. He's rock hard when he grinds against you. Fuck. The feeling drives you insane, even though you're still separated by various layers of fabric. Your body may not show it externally, but you feel the heat traveling to your core. Every little whine and moan that echoes in your ears makes your muscles contract, practically screaming for relief. It would pull you to your knees if you weren't pinned to the wall. 

Does he know what he does to you? How badly you suddenly crave him? 

Something sparkles in his eyes as they meet yours. His pupils are blown out, nothing more than pure darkness. And still there is this sparkle. 

Some time later you find yourself on the bed. The mattress is so soft it practically envelops you in a hug, as if you are embedded in a cloud. Your dress and bikini have long been discarded when Frankie kissed nearly every inch of the skin he exposed. Right now you should feel vulnerable, naked in a stranger's bed, but you don't. 

Perhaps you're incapable to see the situation for what it could have been, because the same man that took you here is currently deeply immersed in between your legs. How can you think straight when his grip is unmoving around your hips and he drinks you up like a man close to death from dehydration. The moans that vibrate against your core send shivers through your entire body. He ravishes in the sweetness of you, undeniably turned on by the noises he elicits from you. 

One thing bothers you, though. When you look down, hoping to meet his eyes, all you see is the visor of his cap. It is downright rude of him to obstruct your view like this. As you reach out to take the cap off of him, he protests with a low growl and pulls away. Again, the vibrations of his voice on your skin make you writhe, but he holds you where you are. “Frankie,” you whine. With a sigh he adjusts the cap so you can see his face, smiling at you softly. His skin glistens in the low, warm light. Without breaking eye contact, he dives back in, but this time a finger joins in in hopes to coax more noises out of you. He cocks an eyebrow when you moan softly. His eyes are completely dark with lust when he dares to try a second finger. 

It is too much. 

Your head falls back and your eyes roll into the back of your skull as you feel pleasure take over and you revel in pure ecstasy. There’s only one word on your tongue, his name over and over, like a prayer. You ride out the waves of your high as best as you can, but Frankie continues to touch you, feel you, taste you, and it is too much to handle. Before you can feel another orgasm build up, you grab hold of the arm that still pins you to the bed. 

“Frankie, please. That’s enough,” you plead with him. You look down to see him watching you intently. With one last kiss to your inner thigh, he lets go of you and crawls upward until he’s eye to eye. Half of his face sparkles, but now that little spark in his eyes is missing and the warmth has returned. The cap gets pulled down into its correct position and he plants soft kisses on your cheek. 

“If you want me to do something else, you’ll have to tell me.” He continues to pepper kisses all over your face. He lowers his body onto yours, allowing you to feel his weight and also how painfully hard he still is, turned on by your pleasure. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he purrs into your ear. 

“Fuck, Frankie, fuck me,” you gasp. 

And fuck you he does. Hours upon hours you two are one. Sometimes it’s you on top, but most of the time he hovers over you, relentlessly snapping into you while his lips capture yours. He whispers the filthiest things into your ears to drive you mad. “You feel so fucking good.” “You’re all mine.” “Just look at how beautiful you are when I fuck you.” “You’re so gorgeous when you cum, fuck.” 

When he is finally done, the sun is about to rise. The sky is changing colors once again when he plops down on the bed beside you. Both of you are spent, out of breath and sweaty, but nonetheless he pulls you into his chest and places soft kisses on your forehead. “Fuck,” he whispers and you can’t help it, you chuckle. “Would you have come with me if I asked you?” he wonders. As if that is of any importance now. 

“I don’t know,” you reply and kiss his jaw, specifically the little patch that looks like a heart. “All I know is that you won’t have to abduct me next time.” 

Gently, he catches your lips with his and kisses you again. “Next time?” There is hope in his voice and his eyes once again remind you of a puppy all of a sudden. 

“Stop pretending you don’t know that I enjoyed that,” you reply. Now it’s you who kisses him and places one hand on the back of his head. 

“Me too,” he whispers in return. 

“Where even are we?” you ask and turn around to look outside of the little hut, press your back and butt into him. The beach is close by and besides you and Frankie there was no sign of life all night long. “Doesn’t have a name… yet,” he says with a shrug. So this is his island but it doesn’t have a name? 

“It doesn’t have a name? Why not?” 

“Haven’t found one I liked.” Kisses are planted along your shoulder and neck. “Your name would be quite fitting, I think,” he adds. Either it’s the kisses or the night you two shared, but you like the idea. 

“Can’t deny that it sounded good when you said it over and over again.” Now you shrug and turn your head to look at him again. 

“Guess it’s official then,” he finally says with a wink. 

[thedarlingdearestdead]

Fixing each other up:

Summary: Bandaging each other up after various missions, talking about your days.

Warnings: Quite fluffy <3

Word count: Short one! 950 words

“It’s not all my fault!” You say laughing as he lifts up your top and winces at your bruises. Both you and Anakin had finally snuck away from your various post-mission debriefs. Only now, in these moments of privacy were the two of you ever yourselves. Only now could you reveal your injuries to each other, and patch each other up.

You only did it for the minor stuff, well… the non-life-threatening stuff. Both of you had a habit of getting quite beat up when you were out and about in battle and rarely did you have the patience or the desire to visit the medical wing. So it had become a ritual. Once everything official had been taken care of, you would come back to one of your quarters and give each other the care and attention you needed. It wasn't just the physical closeness of patching each other up after missions, but the emotional closeness that came with it which made it so essential for the two of you to remain close and connected.

Tonight you thought perhaps you ought to have seen the doctors, judging by the look on Anakin’s face as he bared your bruised abdomen. It was pained and shocked. Though, by the way he had been limping on the trip over you assumed he had been a bit too reckless as well.

“Whose fault was it?” His voice was a low growl, not angry at you, but whoever had hurt you.

“Some nameless droid Ani, don’t worry.” He shakes his head and looks in your kit for some cream and bandages to pack over your bruises. 

Anakin's fingers traced lightly over your bruised abdomen, a gesture filled with love and concern. "I hate seeing you hurt, Y/N."

"I hate seeing you hurt too, Ani," you replied, mirroring his sentiment. "But it's all part of the job."

He nodded, but there was a shadow in his eyes, a constant reminder of the internal struggle he faced as a Jedi. The fear of losing loved ones, and the pressures of the Jedi Code weighed heavily on his shoulders. It was moments like these that allowed him to find respite from his inner turmoil.

“What did they do? Throw you into a wall?”

“… Essentially.” 

He groaned and that made you laugh, though that latest barely a second before you were flinching from the pain. “Easy, it’s ok.” He moved his hand from your stomach to steady your shoulder. He pressed a kiss to your cheek as you calmed down. “I’ll grab you some painkillers.” 

As Anakin headed to the cabinet to retrieve the medication, you examined his own injuries. His face was bruised and his gait was wonky. Concern flooded your mind as you watched him. You wanted to tend to his wounds, but he was always so stubborn about receiving help. And he wouldn’t dream of you even mentioning his wounds while yours were yet unseen to. 

As he returned with the painkillers, you caught his eye and gestured towards his leg. "Let me take a look at those, Ani," you said softly. He hesitated for a moment, handing you your pills and a glass of water, making sure you swallowed them. 

“Alright” He said. You gently guided him to sit beside you on the bed and started tending to his wounds. 

"It's not as bad as it looks," Anakin assured you, but you knew better than to believe him. He always played down his injuries.

You found the necessary supplies and began to clean the wound. Anakin winced at the sting but stayed still, allowing you to work. As you bandaged his arm, he reached out and cupped your cheek, pulling you in for a gentle kiss.

You had been through so much together, and the bond between you had only grown stronger over time. As the two of you continued to tend to each other's injuries, you shared stories of the mission. Anakin told you about the droid battalion they had encountered, and you recounted your daring escape from a collapsing building. Your laughter and shared experiences made the pain more bearable.

“It was ridiculous, honestly. Obi Wan always bullies R2 but this was a simple elevator mishap, he was far too smug.”

You giggle, “Did he make another loose wire joke?”

“No but you could read it in his eyes.”

“Speaking of readings. Master Windu assigned me about a dozen files to read for our mission. Of course I read them all-“

“Of course.” He said amused.

“But none of it mattered because we were reassigned this morning.”

He sighs. “Let me guess, Windu called it a ‘valuable learning opportunity’”

“Well, there’s no such thing as useless information!”

“Ah yes, the ‘atmospheric density of Hoth’ will really come in handy one of these days.”

“It might!”

Anakin leaned into your touch, his lips forming a soft smile. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Y/N.”

You gazed at his beautiful face in the dim lights, his blue eyes shone. “You’d be much better acquainted with Master Che.”

“I don’t want to be better acquainted with Che.” His hand squeezes yours. 

The two of you finished tending to his injuries, and you helped him back on his feet. The painkillers you had given him were starting to take effect, and he walked with less of a limp.

"Come on, Ani, let's get some rest," you suggested, guiding him toward the bed. "We've earned it."

He followed you willingly, lying down beside you. As you settled in, he wrapped his arm around you, holding you close. The weight of the galaxy's conflicts was momentarily forgotten, replaced by the comforting presence of each other.

[dreamingcloudie]

❛❛ In which; Dottore got turned into a kid... ❜❜

✎ ❛❛ How's the weather down there, doc? ❜❜

Pairing(s): Dottore x GN!Reader

Genre/Format: Crackfic (oneshot)

Warning(s): Use of Dottore's (speculated) real name

wc: ~1.2k

Notes: Just something random I wrote lol. Saw some art on Pinterest and omg KID DOTTORE IS SO FREAKING ADORABLE AHAKDSHAJAKSJDDOS

During nights where Dottore would get held up in his lab, you'd sit on the bed and read one of your favorite books as you wait for him to come back. However, today seemed to be… different.

You just finished reading your book and when you looked at the time, it was already way past when Dottore would usually come back. You knew he's a genius man, whatever happened he could easily defuse the problem. But even so, you couldn't help but worry about him sometimes.

Getting up from your bed, you decided to put on a coat before making a trip to where you thought he'd be. As you made your way down to the hallway that leads you to his lab, you could hear a bunch of people arguing, among them a voice higher than the rest stood out.

"What do you mean you can't fix it?!"

"I've read every piece of research paper and I couldn't find anything!"

"Skill issue."

"Oh my Tsaritsa, all of you shut your damn mouths! You're giving me a headache!"

"You're a goddamn clone you can't even get a headache!"

All the voices quickly disappeared when you knocked on the door. Not waiting for a response, you grabbed the door handle and entered the lab.

"Dear? Is everything alright—"

You stopped talking as soon as you saw the mess in his lab. Papers and books were scattered across the room; vials that held unknown liquids were hastily put on the counter; shards of glass were shattered on the floor.

And the very person you were looking for was nowhere in sight.

What caught your attention the most were Dottore's segments that now had their gaze on you, gathering around in a circle in the middle of the room. They were standing pretty close to one another to the point where their shoulders touched so you weren't able to see past what their towering figures were blocking from your view.

After a few minutes of staring, you managed to mutter out, "Uh, what… happened here?"

One of the younger segments—Delta, who wore a black and white mask spoke up, "Nothing to worry about, darling! Aren't you supposed to be in your room right now? What brings you here?"

"Well, Prime is taking longer than usual to come back so I decided I'd come to check on him. Speaking of which, where is he anyway?" You asked, getting a bit closer to the group.

Upon the mention of Prime, all of the segments looked a bit more visibly stressed.

Before you got too close, Theta (another younger segment), who was reading through some papers nearby, stepped in front of you with a smile.

"Oh, you know, Prime is doing his usual, um, Prime… things…?" His sentence ended with a nervous chuckle.

"Oh really?" You crossed your arms.

They were definitely hiding something.

Walking around Theta, you attempted to approach the group once more. Before you could do that, Theta stepped in front of you again.

"Why- Why don't I escort you back to your room, dear? It's two in the morning and I'm pretty sure you're tired."

"I will go back when I make sure Prime is alright."

"He is—"

You gently pushed past Theta while the other segments were trying to convince you to not get close to them.

But to their horror, you managed to squeeze through their bodies and look at what they were hiding.

You gasped.

In the middle, there sat a kid who looked to be ten with short blue fluffy hair and a pair of huge red eyes. His arms were crossed and he looked grumpy.

He looked almost exactly like the other younger segments, albeit his obviously smaller size and had a rounder face.

As far as you'd know, Dottore never had a child segment of himself, maybe this was the first one?

"Aww, who's this little guy?" You asked while picking who you assumed to be a segment, flailing his arms.

"That's um—"

"Who's the cutest boy? Yes you are! Yes you areee~" You cooed, holding him with one arm while the other was pinching his cheek as he whined.

"Stahp. Pwinching. Me!" His words slurred a little due to you squishing his face.

As you were too busy focusing on the boy, Omega came over to you and blurted out:

"That's Prime, dear."

"...huh?" Upon hearing what he said, your eyes widened and all of your movements ceased.

"Gah! Finally, now let me talk!" The boy exclaimed.

But before he could say anything, you turned your head back to him.

"...Zandik?"

"Yes, that's me, (Y/n)."

Silence filled the air as the both of you stared at each other. Only for it to be broken when you laughed.

"What— BWAHAHAHA WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?!"

"I— Stop laughing!"

But how could you take him seriously when he sounded so cute? His usually deep voice and intimidating demeanor was completely gone.

And that was something that happened two hours ago, you were now back at your room as you watched Dottore doodle on a piece of paper with his crayons.

He had explained that he was still himself. But since he was now a kid, it didn't come as a surprise that he'd also have the mindset of one too.

"We couldn't find a way to turn him back immediately, we'll have to wait it out."

"For how long?"

"No idea."

You closed your eyes as you sighed, recalling the conversation you had with the segments earlier. God knows how long it'd be before Dottore would turn back to his regular self.

Someone tugged on one of your sleeves and you opened your eyes, Dottore was holding up a piece of paper, proudly showing you what he had drawn.

"Oh wow! That's a nice drawing, love! Is that… um, someone strapped to a… table?" You squint your eyes, trying to make out what these messy lines depicted.

"An operation table, to be exact! This is what will happen to those stupid asses of clones when I turn back to my adult self!"

"Hey, watch your language, mister."

"I'm not a kid!"

"Are you sure about that?"

---

As time passed, you were now reading Dottore a story and tucked him to bed.

"—and so, the prince defeated the evil dragon and saved the princess! Then they lived happily ever after. The end."

"That's lame."

"You'll take what you can get, dear." You told him.

"I could've done a better job at defeating the dragon! With how advanced my creations are, it could literally be destroyed in seconds!" He exclaimed as he put his arms in the air.

"Yes, of course. Now, go to sleep, okay?" You stood up, walking over to the couch.

"Wait!"

You turned back to him and raised a brow.

"Um, sleep with me, please?"

Oh my god those puppy eyes. You thought, trying not to squeal at how freaking adorable he looked. How could you refuse when he was looking at you like that?

Giving him a soft smile in response, you walked over and got into the bed with him. As you laid down next to him, he scooted closer to you and tucked himself into your chest.

"Give me a goodnight kiss too?"

Chuckling at his request, you pressed a little kiss on his forehead, ruffling his hair as you did so.

"Sleep tight now, dear."

"Night night…"

---

Bonus:

Some time during the hours as you were still asleep. You weren't sure if it was a dream or not, but you could've sworn you felt the familiar warmth of someone's arm hugging you close...

[sublimetragedychopshop]

Jacob black from twilight would be the perfect yandere! He already has the obsessiveness, protective thing down. Especially when his pack told Bella about all the obsessive rants he has in his head because of the mind link.. he went against family, his self worth, his reasoning for a person he was in love with! That wasn’t even his imprint!

Jacob black would treat his imprint like the LOVE of his life. Just pure royal treatment from him mainly because he’s happy to have found his soulmate (TRUE soulmate) and because the scars that Bella left on him were still fresh. His self worth and image were messed up beyond belief so he’s prone to quick jealousy and moments of insecurity. Hope you are the understanding and assuring type because he isn’t gonna think twice about scaring off people who are “too friendly”. Hell even some of his pack get some glares and growls directed at them. He trusts that they won’t do anything but those thoughts of jealousy still make him subconsciously act.

Babe don’t even LOOK at the Cullens. He is behind you at every turn and with his deep grudge he holds against almost ALL vampires (mostly Edward) Jacob is going to immediately assume they’re coming after you next. Don’t look at them, don’t talk about them, don’t even THINK about them. Like honey he is either gonna guilt trip you to the MAX or he’s going to go on a vampire killing spree.

He’s almost closed off. At the start. The more you spend time with him, the more he’ll open up to you bit by bit. Don’t lie to him because if he finds out then your 10 steps back to where you started. Closed short replies and him just stalking you wherever you go instead of walking beside you if he catches you in a lie. The best type of person I see him being with is an honest, kind and devoted person. Like DEVOTED. The type where he asks, “were the cullens there?” In a accusatory tone only for you to go. “No, besides if they were I would just leave. You said they’re bad news right?” Something along those lines is the perfect answer. It shows you TRUST him and his reasons for not liking them. Not as if you don’t have a brain and can’t think for yourself but more like you respect that he has a bad history with them and just don’t want to upset him. He’ll appreciate you beyond words.

A sweet darling that lifts him up and can handle his protective tendencies. You are his WORLD, how can he NOT be worried about you 25/8?? Expect him to run up your phone bill with his check ins and his NEED to touch you always. An arm around you, or your waist or just on your arm. But if you hold his hand he’ll have to hide his childish smile. It’s so cute and loving to feel you hold him back. To feel you WANT to touch him. It’s been so long since he felt someone show him CLEARLY that they are into him. Kiss him. Anywhere. Jacob is a sucker for affection like that. After his patrols or even just a rough and tumble his favorite things is having you fret over him. Not in a naggy way (even though he would still love it) but in a “am I pressing too hard? Tell me and I’ll let up. I’m gonna touch the second bruise okay? I’m sorry I’m sorry!” As you apply ointment and bandages over his wounds. No matter how little. It’ll have him looking at you with the most loving gaze. He’s a shape shifter with unbelievable strength and you think you are CAPABLE of hurting him? It’s cute. YOU’RE too cute.

[argumentativeaxolotl]

Hii, can you do random headcanons human au about lightning and doc? Like a father/son relationship?

Yes! I can do that for you! Thanks for asking ^^

LIGHTNING & DOC FATHER/SON HEADCANONS(HUMANIZED)?!? REAL?!:

Im so sorry there aren’t too many 😭 for some reason I’ve been struggling with concepts so if I think of any good ones later, I’ll add them back here! I hope you like these my friend!

- In my AU at least, Lightning never had a stable home-life, constantly jumping from foster home to foster home and sometimes said foster homes wouldn’t be the best. I’d assume thanks to his unfortunate circumstances, he never really had anybody take care of him until Mack and Doc arrived- even then there was only so much Mack could do or say in fear of getting fired or something.

- Doc loves Lightning(this is obvious), but the kid cannot cook for the life of him so whenever Lightning does something nice for Doc and makes food for him, and it ends up genuinely being shit or inedible, Doc will still eat it anyways because of how happy Lightning looks when he does.

- Lightning’s love language is gifts and making things for other people(even if he thinks he’s good at it, but really isn’t). I’d imagine Doc has a lot of random nicknacks and bracelets from Lightning lmao.

- I think that the first time Lightning accidentally called Doc Dad he got so scared and embarrassed that he fucking bolted out the door, ran to his 95, and raced outta town like a bat out of hell. He’s like “fuck I can’t go back and show my face! Doc’s gonna think I’m weird or something!!!!” But then doc’s like,”You think of me as a dad?! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰” and immediately goes out after Lightning and brings him home- possibly having a heart to heart or something.

- Doc will do very small things that mean the world to Lightning, such as taking him to the store with him, going on small trips with him, just generally making Lightning feel wanted and just spending time with him.

- This one’s not necessarily Lightning and Doc only and is sorta canon, but Doc is everyone’s father 💀💀💀. Doesn’t matter who you are, as soon as you step foot in Radiator Springs once and you plan to stay for more than half an hour, then you are his kid. You have been adopted.

- Doc gave Lightning a bedtime. And Lightning was not happy abt it 😭. Lightning, despite being a mostly functioning adult, was still taking horrible care of himself(likely due to Harv’s harmful teaching and shitty “philosophies”. Fuck that guy) and would go to bed at seriously ungodly hours, even during race weekends which was a no no for obvious reasons. There was also the fact that Lightning got snippy and short whenever he didn’t sleep and everyone on the team was simply too nice to say anything until Doc did. I’d imagine it was because Lightning decided it would be a good idea to mouth off to the man after a race that went awry and he said stuff he didn’t mean. Doc would likely then realize the kid needed to have a nap before he collapsed or whatever then magically after said nap he was a bit better. Doc then decided that the kid’s bedtime would be 10:30 on the dot. Lightning, deciding he was an adult, complained to the man to which Doc replied with how shitty the kid had been acting which led to Lightning having a realization and leading to him apologizing his team who were more than forgiving and understood.

- Lightning’s a fuckingn iPad kid and Doc knows it and uses it to his advantage 💀💀. Whenever Doc just needs a second to himself or wants to disappear without worrying Lightning(a note or two would be written and left on the counter as well) he’ll leave a documentary- likely about prehistoric animals or modern animals- playing on the TV that will invest Lightning until Doc gets back.

- While having a stable father figure is new to Lightning, having a son-figure is for Doc as well. After Lightning called him dad, Doc has been reading every parenting guide book and news article and children’s mental health guide he could get his hands on. He didn’t want to mess up with the kid and he was still young(Doc knew Lightning didn’t have an all-too stable home-life, why else would he never talk to his parents or family members if he even had any?) and decently impressionable- plus there was all that deep-rooted shit Harv fucked Lightning up with. Doc did not want to hurt the kid and so he did his best with what he could, but it was hard since Lightning wasn’t exactly a child. Doc does his best anyways.

- Doc always gives 101% of his attention to Lightning, even when he’s physically doing something else such as making coffee. Doc loves listening to Lightning’s sometimes nonsensical rambles and rants about dinosaurs(Lightning is 100% a Dinosaur kid I know one when I see one for I am also one) and will listen when he starts nervously rambling about them during a race as well. He’ll always listen to his rants and stories, doing his best to keep up with the youngster. He’s glad Lightning loves sharing his interests with him and everyone in Radiator Springs. Lightning himself loves that he’s allowed to just keep talking all he wants and so he does, but he doesn’t have to “make sure” they’re still listening like he’d have to with Harv or shitty old friends of his because they’d all be paying attention anyways, even while busy. It made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

- Doc teaches Lightning how to do DIY shit or how to fix things(aside from cars. I’d imagine they bond on that. Maybe this one can be changed to Doc taught Lightning about the insides of a car? Like “if you wanna race, you can’t just know the pedals and wheel. You gotta know everything about your car” or something. Little lesson yk?) like doorframes or putting together IKEA furniture(screaming and crying). I’d imagine he loves teaching Lightning how to do woodshop and Lightning loves making little sculptures.

- For his first Father’s Day in Radiator Springs, Lightning decided to get the entire town involved since he wasn’t entirely sure what Doc liked and didn’t like that he could get the man. With his little dilemma, he went to everyone in the town getting input from everybody- some ranging from getting Doc an entire new tool kit or some sort of organizer thing to a nice set of overalls Doc could wear when fixing up the Hornet or working on projects. I like to think that maybe the entire town also get him things and nicknacks since everybody realized how much of a father Doc was. I think Lightning would be like,”fuck what do I get him 😰😰” Sally would be like,”BRO JUST GET HIM SOMETHING. HE’LL LOVE IT EITHER WAY ESPECIALLY IF IT COMES FROM YOU!” And then he decides to get Doc everything the others said anyways to which Doc is surprised and proves Sally right by saying something like,”Kid, you’re the only gift I need.” Or something corny. Maybe even like,”Kid, these are all wonderful, but you didn’t have to get all of these just for me.” Or sumn. Doc 101% uses all of the items everyday tho.

I’m sorry if these are a little short I’ll add some more later if k come up with good ones lol