#good luck with this pfft
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Introductory Post [Meet the Mod + Rules]
Okay, good timezone, everyone!
I figured I might as well introuce myself and the blog. This is mostly meant to be an interactive blog regarding a crossover known as “Five Nights at Whoopee’s” - ft. Randy Cunningham: 9th Grade Ninja and Five Nights at Freddy’s. I may also refer it to as an “alternate universe”, but even then!
My name is Danny, I use they/them and neopronouns. I am bodily an adult and have auDHD (autism and ADHD); I am also a system, as well as suspected BPD. I also do have a life which is one of the main reasons I get on tumblr at odd hours of the day- I tend to sign off my posts with “Mod Danny” but if we do ever bold one who’s fronting, this may change!
Now to get onto the subject of business, these are the rules and guidelines of the blog.
Guidelines of Five Nights at Whoopee’s
~ Be respectful and courteous when interacting with the blog. Throwing around insults or using slurs will not be tolerated; I do not take kindly to unnecessary disputes.
~ Keep drama out of the blog! Please. This is meant to be a fun, interactive space; any issues you have with people shouldn’t be brought into this! I don’t want to deal with others’ personal problems- I apologize if that sounds harsh, but sometimes a fandom space should simply be a fandom space and nothing else.
~ Political matters will not be brought up on this account. That is what my main blog is for- at least in part, but please- I am asking you kindly to leave this space for the crossover.
~ Anyone is welcome to interact with the crossover. As long as you are not going to be causing problems, you are more than welcome to talk here!
~ When it comes to asks, you can either speak directly to me as the owner of the blog or you can also ask questions to the characters. (Once I figure out how to manage the asks that is!)
~ Do not ask me to make you part of the mod team unless I am actively ‘hiring’ for that! Details are still being worked out in regards to not only lore, but how this blog properly works!
~ This is not meant to reflect the full canon of Five Nights at Freddy’s, and any attempt to be rude about how ‘accurate’ it is will not be tolerated.
~ Due to the mature content of the crossover, I do ask that you tread with caution- NSFW themes will not be breached, at all. (there are other spaces for that); However, there will be talks of any of the following subjects: murder/death, child neglect, discussions of serial killings, and more.
~ There will be times when asks about lore might not be answered, and this is purely to avoid spoilers ahead of time. After certain points, they absolutely will get talked about but I’d hate to give early spoilers!
~ Guidelines will change as the blog expands! For now this is all I have
Now to get onto the main order of things, I’m going to briefly talk about what to expect from the blog itself! Once more- this is the summarization of the plot!
Five Nights at Whoopee’s follows an alternate timeline on Norrisville; almost thirty years before the current timeline, Whoopee World was a pizzeria joint- it was a family-friendly establishment, bringing fun and joy to adults and children alike. That was until a missing children’s incident devastated the city. No one knows what happened to the missing five, but somehow love for Whoopee World continued, leading to the expansion of the company and created an amusement park.
In current times, young engineer Ellis Winslow is hired to Whoopee World; they handle the repairs and technical support of the mascot Whoopee, and the other animatronics- that is until things start going strangely. Following the disappearance of her childhood best friends, Ellis and the current night guard (who I’m currently keeping private until the poll ends on my main-blog!) are about to uncover what really went down all those years ago…
The blog is not only meant to dive into headcanons, lore, and characters but also acts as an interactive ask blog. You will be able to ask questions both to myself- and the characters within the crossover! Certain characters will more than likely be kept omitted for obvious reasons, but since things are still being developed- I do prefer asks be kept to me and not the characters!
(author's cut: as soon as i have a few things squared away, i'll open asks to the characters!)
Until next time!
~ Mod Danny (They/Them)
#randy cunningham 9th grade ninja#rc9gn#five nights at whoopee's#randy cunningham crossover#rc9gn crossover#rc9gn oc#ellis 'el' winslow#debbie kang#theresa fowler#howard weinerman#first ninja#rc9gn first ninja#randy cunnigham#rc9gn nomicon#ninja nomicon#nomi cunningham#heidi weinerman#hyperfixation#hyperfixated#missing children#missing children incident#fnaf missing kids#no one is going to be having a good time in this#this is a very self indulgent crossover and it's consuming my everyday thoughts#good luck with this pfft#everyone is very traumatized but to be fair a lot has happened#whoopee's is still very beloved but at the same time it is where the kids went missing#mod intro#introductory post#introducing myself
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
#good night smooches in advance#I'm gonna do boring stuff... pfft I can do boring stuff only when I'm tired shhhh[[ menhh#Coko good luck surviving#Sara good luck animating#Cass good luck with ~content~
310 notes
·
View notes
Text
closed starter for @adrasian
What had it been now, two weeks? A little more? It felt closer to three but then it also felt like an eternity since last he'd seen or held Rhys. The angry episodes were fewer and further between now, the rage mostly having spent itself and now there was just...emptiness. It wasn't numbness, not quite, that might have been welcomed. Instead it was like he existed in a sort of void where colours, sounds, sensations, everything was dulled. He had little motivation to do much of anything, though he was mechanically doing his job, making sure thing still ran, even if he took work calls with video turned off sitting in a robe at his desk. There were still meetings to attend and he dressed himself impeccably with far more effort than it should've taken. Roland felt weighted down, the sadness, the loneliness, and the longing seemed to have some sort of anchor in his chest that kept him pinned. Often times he found himself at the piano and there was a little brightness there, he still played with passion, he couldn't not. More often, though, he sat on one of the couches and put records on, smoking endless cigarettes and just listening to the music. He felt dulled and yet at the same time there were still sharp edges to the emotions if he got too close to them.
The suite was more in disarray than it had been as well. Normally, Roland kept everything tidy, or at least made sure to let the staff in to do their regular cleaning but no one had been allowed in his suite for some time outside of invitation. There were still shards of glass on the floor from where he'd thrown drinking glasses against the wall, broken pieces of porcelain, a scratched and blood stained couch that he'd at least pushed back into a corner but he hadn't cared to have it cleaned yet, if it could even be salvaged. Roland would probably just get rid of it. Overflowing ashtrays littered the surface of several tables beside dirty wine glasses. One of the things that helped, or sort of helped, was having the slaves come up as distractions. Even then, Roland was different with them, much less teasing, confident and playful than usual, just quieter, a little more needy and desperate. It disconcerted some to the point where they didn't even have sex, their behaviour influenced by his mood enough to turn Roland off and send them away though that was rare. He fed, if nothing else, even if he didn't end up sleeping with them, that was something. Still, he even had fewer slaves to his suite than he used to and hadn't been down to the Undercroft himself to pick them, having them sent up instead.
Tonight was one such night. Part of the distraction of having the slaves here was a kind of pretend companionship that helped ease the loneliness a little. The slaves that did stay, that he took to bed, Roland ended up keeping for some time afterwards just to hold them, just to be close. Adrasia hadn't allowed that last time but Roland wouldn't give him much choice tonight. Rather than wait at the door, he waited in his bedroom, clad in a robe, having told the guards to escort the celestial right to the bedroom and then leave. They'd just done that and were gone, the celestial standing before him as Roland looked at him, hands in his pockets, probably looking as dull as he felt but he forced a small smile anyway. "Hello." It was quiet, already a contrast to how he'd greeted Adrasia the last couple times he'd been in the suite. "It seemed easier to bring you straight here."
#c: adrasia#adrasia3#here you go adra#good luck#he's not doing well#pfft i wrote so much no need to match length obviously
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
Been thinking about QSMP,
Thinking about Tallulah feeling abandoned
Thinking about Richarlyson being reckless
Thinking about Chayanne trying to stay strong
Thinking about Pomme being afraid of dying
Thinking about Trumpet waiting for so long
Thinking about Leonarda feeling isolated
Thinking about Bobby being violent to others
Thinking about Tilin wanting a good home
Thinking about Ramón wanting the best for his dad
Thinking about Dapper living with trauma
Thinking about Juanaflippa losing her bestfriend
Thinking about Pepito feeling lonely
Thinking about Sunny feeling self conscious
Thinking about Empanada being anxious
#pfft this is such a downer#i care them#i want the eggs to be happy and live long fufilling lives#theyve gone through a lot hggdhdhjxdhd#i dont know some eggs as well as others#i hope i can get to know them just as well in the future#good luck out there#eggs#qsmp
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
This guy fucking gets it.
#honey the hostess#vivian grey#the pulp saga continues#(putting it under that tag since technically the story was first serialized in the pulps)#anyway it's about two upper-class sisters who fall on hard times when their father dies in debt#and the older one (the heroine Diana) gets a job as a taxi dancer to make ends meet after they have to sell everything#there's family drama when the younger sister naively falls for a gangster#and concurrent romantic drama when the older brother (Waldemar) of the heroine's ex-fiancé shows up finally expressing his love#i'm like halfway through and it's actually pretty darn good#i wish there was some online link or otherwise easy way to share it but there isn't unfortunately :(#i lucked out and randomly found this copy from an australian bookstore after casually looking for MONTHS pfft
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Continued from here | @rabbitholewritten
" A legitimate date makes for a successful romantic evening. It makes for a resolution to the chaos ... " they begin, refusing to look directly at Mark even when he stands in front of them. Moving forward, passing through Mark's specter without any feeling to it, their hands move to their pockets. " I'm rather good at making things up as I go and keeping up appearances, Mark. You forget that I was a public figure. "
" On the contrary, they barely know you. If they paid any attention to your meta path, they know you're just an actor. Whatever you — I, now — say, goes. " The smile that they look at Mark with is far from amusement, far from the playful happiness so remembered upon their expression. It is sharp, and haunting ... the Entity has left its stain upon Rue's being, even when inhabiting a different vessel. Their rightful vessel.
Do they intend to trap Mark the same way he has trapped them ?
They turn, only partially making an effort to face Mark. Head tilts, smile glints.
" A legitimate date makes for the end of a story. " Their head tilts the other way, observing Mark. Observing, in the same manner to which a predator may watch its helpless prey. One cannot do much from a nonexistent plane. They had quite some time to learn that. " I shouldn't be surprised that you are so adamant to keep one from happening. "
He sucks in a breath, uselessly, when Rue passes through him. He hadn't missed that part of being dead. "I didn't forget."
Hadn't he? That was so long ago. Far away from these stories. It's easy to let slip the fact that the Villain was once a Mayor. Harper.
"But they aren't entirely blind. They'll see right through you." Mark faces them, annoyed, sneer marring his features. Meanwhile worry makes its way through him like a poison. They're right that the viewer doesn't know him, really.
And they shot him. A mistake. It must have been.
"Would you at least stop ignoring me?" The complaint is instantly regretted. Rue is in one of those moods, and it was bad enough when he had a corporeal vessel for defense. Now…
Now he has nowhere to go. Now they could trap him.
Mark laughs. "The end? I've told you that there is no end. That's the best part! There's no ending for the likes of us." Not anymore. "Of course I'm going to keep one from happening. You'll only achieve running yourself in circles."
He straightens the red tie, smiling, grateful he can no longer sweat while they're watching him like that. "I can play the part of the vengeful ghost. 'Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night, and for the day confined to fast in fires'…" Mark makes a face and shakes his head. "No. I'll think of something original."
#and so the story begins: thread#starring: rabbitholewritten#(oh no pfft. good luck mark!#mark: stop ignoring me! look at me!#also mark: no not like that)
1 note
·
View note
Text
heres how cale can still win not become a god even with several worlds worshiping him:
cale and the white star have the same name, by coincidence
it would be funny if, after going around introducing himself as "cale henituse" in every world but with a different appearance, he was like "cale? sure, both of our names are cale, that doesn't mean we're the same person?? we dont even look alike?????"
#wwaffles bein' an idiot#wwaffles reads lch#all these people show up at cale's front door looking for a dude named cale and he's like?#i dont even look like whoever youre looking for? good luck with your search though--#could claim that theyre various cales from various dimensions but he's not one of them pfft--
0 notes
Text
[Reply from @skullkxd]
"I see... Good luck?"
That was a euphemism, right..?
#SKULLKXD;; [𝓡𝓮𝓮 𝓛𝔂𝓷𝓬𝓱]#IC;; [𝓢𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓛𝓸𝓼𝓽]#[he sure does hope he didnt tell a teenager good luck with their criminal activity. pfft]
0 notes
Note
oh u think so too? i mass sent tht question to artists i rmb off the top of my head, i completely forgot abt djts-arts lmao
n theres altairtalisman but cant send them asks at the moment... do u think tht they wld be interested in smth like this?
I mean,, yeah there's Dee hahah
Maybe try Finch and Red too hahaha
For the lols send one to Pan owo
There's also Mango! Maybe they'd be interested hahah
0 notes
Text
"Oh." So that was it? He was just going to be stuck here, for an unknown amount of time? Thor's ears had pulled back even further against his skull at Satoru's words, mouth tilting down in a sad frown briefly as his eyes drifted downward, but then as he kept speaking, his ears would raise then flick and he perks back up.
"Are you sure?" He had no issues with being on his own, but it would probably make staying in this world a lot easier if he had someone he could go to. After a few moments of thinking it over he’d nod yes in response. "That would be nice, thank you Satoru! I promise I won't get in the way!"
He feels the little paw wrap around his finger and holds himself back from voicing: ‘awww’ randomly while Thor is talking. He has to keep in mind that he isn’t the same as the animals here and should treat him as though he’s human. But that paw— Gojo easily melts when it comes to cute stuff.
Now, when a more serious topic arises, Satoru's lower lip sticks out as he frowns. Poor fella. He can’t imagine what it feels like to wake up in a whole different world. But that’s fine, Gojo has no issue offering the Raichu a place to stay.
“ Sorry, bud. Looks like you’ll be stuck here for a while. But maybe we can find a way to send you back home eventually. Until then, do ya need shelter? ” He barely visits his apartment, but this may give him a reason to do so. Or, he could also take him to the school. But that’s a little risky, unless he explains the situation to the others. Surely his students would love Thor.
#brazenlystrong#thor || [main] || viridian forest#thor || [crossover] || off the beaten path#Looks like Gojo just got himself a Raichu! da na na naaaaa#sort of. kind of. technically pfft#good luck keeping him from chewing on the electrical cords tho
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Match commentary | Lucy Bronze x Arsenal!Reader
Where someone negatively comments on the match commentary you sent to your girlfriend every match
Woso masterlist | Words: 1.1k
-----
Y/n: That was such a good tackle!!
Y/n: Look at you working the flanks
Y/n: You almost had her, just a step behind
Y/n: Nice safe, baby!!
Y/n: You get faster every time you play
Y/n: Haha cheeky little shirt grab there
Y/n: Pfft they should’ve gotten a yellow for taking you down like that!
“What are you doing?” Kyra asks as she sits down to you to roll out her muscles as well. You show her your split screen between the Barça game and your chat with Lucy. “I always text Lucy my match commentary when she plays.”
Ever since the two of you went long distance with your relationship, when Lucy moved to Spain, you had watched her matches online. The only ones you missed were the ones that were at the same time as your own matches. Texting her throughout the match was something that had made you feel closer to your girlfriend.
When she was still playing in the WSL you played for different teams as well, but you still got to go home to each other. Now, with Lucy in Barcelona and you in London with Arsenal, things were different, and this was how you dealt with the difference.
“That’s cute. Mind if I watch with you?” You propped your phone up so you could watch together, occasionally grabbing your phone to send Lucy a text. Always ending your commentary with:
Y/n: Well played, my love ❤️
A few matches and match commentaries later you were watching the Copa de la Reina final between Barça and Real Sociedad, with a few of your teammates. When you went to grab your phone for your first message to Lucy, Laia questioned you. “Are you going to text Lucy about the match?” You smile and show her the chat with Lucy already open on your phone. “Yeah, I always do. Why?” Laia hated to make you feel bad, but she felt like she had to share what she had heard her former teammates say about it. “Well, I just heard some of the Barça girls mention that Lucy’s phone is always full of messages from you after their matches, that she spends like 30 minutes going through them all in the dressing room.”
Your heart fell, were your messages annoying to your girlfriend? Why hadn’t she said anything to you if she did? “Oh, okay. Thank you for letting me know.”
Y/n: Good luck today! Give em hell out there ❤️
And with that message you put your phone back in your pocket and watch your girlfriend play without your usual commentary. Lucy and the rest of the team played amazingly, and managed to win with a final score of 8-0. When the match was finished you sent Lucy another text.
Y/n: Congrats on the win, you played amazing. So proud of you!
The first thing Lucy did when she entered the locker room with the rest of the girls, was grab her phone. Though her face fell when there were only two messages from you amongst her notifications.
“What’s got you all frowny? We just won the Cup.” Frido noticed Lucy’s sudden mood change. “Oh, it’s nothing.” She raised her eyebrows, “Spill.” Lucy sighed, “You know how y/n usually sends me commentary on my matches?” With a nod of Frido’s head, Lucy continues. “Well she only sent me a good luck message when we started and a congrats message when we won, nothing in between.”
“Maybe she was busy?” Lucy thinks for a moment. “Yeah, maybe, it’s just the first time she hasn’t done it besides her having a match of her own.” Frido puts her hand on Lucy’s shoulder. “I am sure that everything is fine. She still sent you those two messages, that has to mean something right? Just ask her later and come celebrate with us.”
Lucy decides to let herself believe Frido’s words and goes back on the pitch to receive the Cup and the medals with the team.
When Lucy gets home that night she immediately facetimes you. Upon picking up, Lucy immediately starts talking. “Hi baby, busy day today?” You think for a second, had you told Lucy you were going to be having a busy day? You couldn’t have, right? Today’s schedule had never been filled, just a day off, and watching Lucy’s match.
So, you shake your head, “Not really, I just had a nice relaxing day with some of the girls, and we watched your match. Speaking of your match, you played so well. Congratulations on another win this season, you all deserve it so much!”
Hearing this is worrying Lucy more, maybe something was up after all. “Did I do something wrong?” Lucy questioned with a saddened look washed over her face. You furrow your brow, “No? Not that I know of at least.” You try to joke, hoping to lighten up the conversation.
“Oh okay, that’s good I guess.” Lucy didn’t sound convinced so you questioned further. “Why, baby? What’s going on?”
“Well, usually you send me your match commentary when I play. When I didn’t get any today, I thought you might’ve been too busy to catch the match, but you just said you watched the match. Why didn’t you do them today? Did you not feel comfortable with the girls around? I thought you always did it with them around as well.”
You stop her rambling by starting to talk. “You missed the commentary?” Lucy nods instantly, “Yes, of course. Your commentary is the highlight of my post match ritual, I love reading the game through your eyes. Did you think I didn’t? Is that why you stopped?”
“Well, one of the girls overheard one of your teammates talk about you always getting a ton of messages and being on your phone so much after matches, so I thought maybe you didn’t like it and it was taking time away from being away from your teammates. Like maybe it was annoying for you, and since it was the final, I didn’t want to be an annoyance to you.”
Lucy is shaking her head, “No, baby, you never annoy me. Like I said, I love your commentary so much. I really missed it today.” You were glad that it was all just a misunderstanding, and that you now knew the true appreciation your girlfriend had for your messages.
“I can talk you through my thoughts right now, if you have the time?” Lucy smiles, “I would love that.” With that you start talking about the match, and end up talking the night away.
-----
💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗b
#lucy bronze#lucy bronze x reader#lucy bronze imagine#barca femeni x reader#barca women#fcb femini#barca femini x reader#lionesses x reader#engwnt x reader#engwnt imagine#barcelona femeni x reader
436 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi!!!! Pretty pretty please, could you write a ranpo x reader where reader usually takes care of him because they have a soft spot for him, but ranpo takes them for granted somehow, and they get frustruated and angry. Maybe a little angsty and fluff as well. Im so happy to discover your blog, i really like the way you write for bsd! Sorry for my english, i’m not a native
❝𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭, 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲!?❞
︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵
𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐨 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐠𝐬
𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨 𝐄𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.. 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐥𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 ... 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 // 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭
【SFW】
GENDER NEUTRAL BUT AFAB READER sorry :')
REQUESTS ARE OPEN ! Check my request page for info !
︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵
It's easy to say that Ranpo doesn't exactly have manners, and is easily persuaded by his own thoughts and often doesn't think before he speaks when he isn't on the job.
Often, he'll make people feel very dumb. That doesn't change for people he's close with, cough. You.
It's been a good few months since you had joined the Agency, being assigned as Ranpo's lucky assistant. Actually, no, now that you remember it more clearly, you were never assigned this role... It just so happened that during you're early days when you were still a lost noobie, Ranpo.. 'found' you, but not exactly in a positive or negative way.
When it was only you and Ranpo in the building, when everyone had gone to do their own thing, he was whining about being so hungry he'd die! Talk about childish.. and yet, after a while it grew on you.
You offered to go to the nearest convenient store and see if you could find anything, which you did, and after that Ranpo would use your more and more often to retrieve stuff for him, that the title 'Ranpo's lucky assistant' grew on you.
Ranpo didn't seem to care, actually, eventually he'd start to have you help him with cases... And by 'help' it just means you'd buy his train tickets. Basically you were treated like a guinea pig in some ways, even having to give the man piggy back rides when he felt tired.
╰┈➤ ❝Would you call this luck?❞
Actually, it isn't all that bad. Ranpo would always look so happy whenever you walked in the room. Word has it, whenever you weren't around, his head would perk up like a dog on alert at the sound of your name being spoken and he'd always feel so gloomy saying, 'man, I wish (Y/N) was here.' Although, that's probably just Yosano trying to mess with you.
Not to mention he'd always love to eat with you, seeming so glad as he'd get into your space and ask that you 'so kindly feed him like a good assistant' ignoring all the stacks of papers you have to finish.
Some part of you wants to say that he just has a sweet yet naive heart when he's not actually using his brain... And yet...
︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵
"pfft, don't be stupid. I don't need your little gift," he spoke while pushing your hand away.
For the past few days, you had found yourself growing a different perspective around him.. did you truly like this guy?
Earlier that day, as had been you passing through many stores, there was something in particular that caught your attention. You were a firm believer in luck and gratitude, always wanted it for yourself and others. When you saw basically some five dollar bracelets, there was one in particular that caught your attention.
A small bracelet, a very colorful one, that had little snack charms. It was pretty. It reminded you a lot of Ranpo.
"you don't need to wear it, I was just hoping-"
"you were hoping to give me a little good luck charm." He'd speak up over you with a tone voice that didn't seem completely annoyed but more like he was mocking you. He'd continue to place another chip into his mouth before continuing, "I don't need it. I'm the world's greatest detective after all."
"..i see." You spoke with a feeling of disappointment. "I'll just throw it away then."
Ranpo didn't seem to bat an eye about it as soon as you had left his line of sight that following day.
︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵
A few days followed and you didn't exactly forget that little item, actually it's disappointing you chose to throw away such a pretty gadget. Slowly the sun hit the inside of your room and you felt this pinging in your head. A strong annoyance, a headache.
Some part of you felt like this headache had to do with how you've been seeing Ranpo lately. One question that's been stuck in your mind, do you seriously regret meeting him? No, that'd be too much to say... But he can be annoying to deal with.
There were even moments where you'd have to step in because he pissed off the wrong person, stopping people from getting their fist in his face... It was always you taking a few verbal hits for him, huh? And he never seemed to mind, always doing it again and again no matter how much you've told him it's wrong.
Maybe you're wrong about your friendship with him.
︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵
"yo, I'm here." You spoke up while entering the Agency, that strong pinging in your head again. You looked around only to see Ranpo. "Where is everybody?"
"Dazai is skipping, Yosano is in her infirmary, and the rest of them are all on their own errands and cases." Ranpo spoke as he played on his little game console. He perked up at you with a smug grin, "Soo, let me guess. Today's snacks are.."
"actually I don't have anything."
"HUH? WHY?" He immediately jumped in his seat staring at you almost distressed. "I'll die without food y'know!"
"..if you're so hungry then go get yourself something."
"Nonsense!" He laughed out, mocking you in a way. "Last I recall your my lucky assistant, and you promised to get me food every morning."
"I didn't promise you anything, Edogawa."
Ranpo had noticed a sharp tone in your voice, you seemed oddly annoyed, which was different. He then grinned towards you, "Oh I see! Is this about your little gift to-"
".. you're such a pain, Edogawa!" You spoke up which made the man flinch. You definitely noticed that, you've caught him off guard. "Not once have you ever gratitude for what I've done? I know it's not much and maybe I'm being dramatic.. but it'd be nice to get a thank you every and now then? All it feels like is that you look down on me."
"..I'm sorry."
That's all he said which didn't make you an happier. Thats all he can say? Is he serious?
"I'm leaving. I have a bad headache and I don't want to deal with this, let Kunikida know I'm off." You turned on your heels to leave.
"Wait hold up-!" Ranpo immediately followed and grabbed your shoulder. "I said I was sorry!" After he didn't heard you respond and just ignore him, yet waited in your steps to hear if he had anything else to say, he pulled out the bracelet from his pocket. "..the reason I said I didn't need your good luck charm, was because my lucky assistant is what brings me luck."
"..."
"..and thanks."
#bsd x reader#anime and manga#x reader#anime#bsd#bungo stray dogs#ranpo edogawa x reader#bsd ranpo#bungou stray dogs#bungou stray dogs ranpo#ranpo x reader#bsd yosano#ranpo#ranpo x yn#ranpo edogawa#bsd edogawa rampo#bsd x you#bsd x y/n
238 notes
·
View notes
Text
According to my studies... The Engines are cats.
Giant metal cats. Need proof? Allow me to present my case.
Exhibit A: Zoomies.
All those time the engines felt the need for speed and went hurtling down the tracks like they've lost their minds? Cats do that too. In some cases, the end result can have the same level of property damage.
Exhibit B: Swatting. Also known as, aggressive/panicked shunting.
Thing doesn't work right? Smack thing. Cats do this all the time. Engines do too. We see this a lot when they interact with trucks. Something looks scary/wrong about that truck? Or it's acting up? Get that away from me!!! *Rams Truck, sending it flying*
Exhibit C: Aversion to water.
Most cats don't like water. Neither to engines. Even if it's not enough to put out their fire. They just hate it. There are obvious exceptions of course, like James. (But he's pretty much the engine version of an overly pampered house cat, that gets baths everyday, so that makes sense.)
Exhibit D: Flying things are bad.
Percy and Harold. James and the Hot Air Balloon. Need I say more? Cat's like to chase, attack, and eat flying things. They hate them with a burning passion.
Exhibit E: Neatniks.
Most engines like to stay clean, or at least get cleaned up after the hard work. They hate hate messy paint, dirt, and mud. Sound familiar? James is the perfect example of this. He's like that cat that licks itself everytime you pet it, because you "messed up it's fur". Lol.
Exhibit F: How did you get in there???
Cats seem to get themselves in the weirdest places. So have the engines. They are almost always found in the weirdest predicaments. And certain engine on Sodor, has done this MANY TIMES. How he managed to get clear on the other side of a mountain without tracks? Good luck trying to figure that out Topham. Pfft.
The engines are cats. I rest my case.
(Note: This is not to be taken seriously. This is just silly posting. Thank you.)
#ttte#Thomas and Friends#thomas the tank engine#Rose's TTTE Stuff#ttte thomas#ttte james#ttte gordon#ttte henry#ttte percy#ttte harold#ttte sir topham hatt#ttte oliver#ttte stepney
250 notes
·
View notes
Text
Not A Verstappen: Gridlocked {1}
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Charles and Lando come to your apartment for the thank you dinner as promised. Warnings: 18+ only, sexual tension, alcohol, touching? WC: 2.4k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four
Black smoke billowed out of the pan you thought you had turned off and you rushed to toss it in the sink before opening a window. The breeze was a moment too late to clear the air of the dark tendrils snaking higher and they soon reached the smoke detector, the piercing sound of its alarm filling your kitchen.
“Shit,” you cursed as you tried to jump and hit the detector to shut it off but you were just too short. “Double shit.”
A knock sounded at your door and you threw it open, grabbing whoevers hand it was and dragging them inside. “Thank god, hit that fucking thing for me will you?” you asked, realising it was Charles who had arrived on time, unsurprisingly.
His nose wrinkled at the heavy stench of smoke and he rose onto his toes to reach up and turn off the alarm. “You look like you have been, um…creative.”
You smiled at the attempt of a compliment before laughing at the situation. In the cold pan on the stove were the chicken breasts that were meant to be frying and you slapped your forehead as you realised you had turned the wrong element on. “Looks like we are going out to dinner, which is probably safer. I don’t think I could have kept my promise not to give you food poisoning by the looks of it.”
“I’m not dressed to go out,” he said as he looked down at his polo and chinos.
“Are you kidding me? You look like a damn model.”
“Thanks. It’s not easy being this handsome,” Lando said as he walked in the front door that was still open, a bottle of wine in his hands. “I see your cooking skills are as good as mine.”
“Har-har,” you drawled as you reached into the cupboards and got three wine stems out. “Liquid dinner it is.”
“Haven’t you sworn off drinking?” Charles asked as he rummaged around your cutlery drawers, finding the corkscrew for Lando.
“Pfft, that was just for summer break to stop the PR team from riding my ass,” you said with a grin. “Plus, you two won’t let me get into trouble. At least not too much.”
The cork popped open and Charles took the bottle from Lando to read the label. “I don’t think we have anything to worry about,” he laughed as he handed the Prosecco back.
“What?” Lando asked with a frown as he turned it around to see the label. “The lady at the shop said this was good.”
“Sure, for an afternoon at the beach, but it won’t get you drunk.”
You took the bottle from his hands and kissed his cheek to erase the pout on his face. “It is the perfect starter course, and my bar is fully stocked with the hard stuff.”
“No,” Charles sighed as he took the bottle and poured three drinks. “I’m sure there is something salvageable to eat. No drinking on an empty stomach.”
You raised your glass to him. “I wish you luck, my kitchen is cursed.”
He tapped his glass with yours and winked. “I’m a miracle worker, watch me.”
You sat with Lando at the kitchen table as he showed you some photos he had taken throughout the year that hadn’t been posted online, keeping you entertained with stories that would get him in trouble if they ever got out. Every now and then you would check on Charles who familiarised himself with your kitchen, opening and closing all the cupboards and drawers before sighing.
“Admit defeat yet?”
His green eyes narrowed at you from across the room. “Never. I just can’t find any- of nevermind. What is this monstrosity?” He pulled a large jar out of the fridge and grimaced at the sight.
“Crushed garlic,” you said obviously but he grew even more offended by the jar as he held it at arms length away.
“Unbelievable,” he muttered as he opened the lid and sniffed it. “It will do, I suppose.”
“What are you cooking?” Lando asked as he saw the ingredients lined up on the bench.
“Chicken pesto pasta.” He didn’t even look up as he sliced some limes up, muttering that lemons would have been better.
“See, this is what I was looking for,” you said to Lando as you rested your chin on your hand watching Charles navigate the kitchen comfortably. “He cooks for me, you did my laundry, you’re both good looking and funny. That’s what I need from a man, I need the love child of Charlando. I give up. It’s impossible. I’m never going to find that.”
“Okay, this definitely isn’t going to be enough,” Lando said as he took the almost empty glass from your hand and rose from the chair. You and Charles both watched him cross over to the wet bar and tap his fingers along his lips as he debated what spirits to choose. “We need to cheer you up, I’m thinking tequila sunrise or strawberry daiquiri?”
“And music,” Charles added as he diced an onion that had been hiding at the back of your refrigerator for who knows how long. “Not mine, because it’s all depressing.”
“So music and drinks…why don’t we just go out?”
Neither looked happy at your suggestion and they both shook their heads. “I’m not in the mood for a lecture from your brother,” Lando admitted.
Lando plugged his phone into your stereo and some soft pop song started to play in the background as Charles said, “And it's too loud to talk in a club. This is nice, no?”
“I guess the company is half decent,” you teased.
Charles chuckled and beckoned you over with a curl of his finger that had a dollop of creamy pesto sauce on the end. “Taste test.”
Your stomach clenched as you parted your lips for him and his eyes held yours, the moment too intimate to dare break. His lips parted with a silent sigh when your tongue rolled over the pad of his finger, and he took a harsh breath as your lips sealed around it and sucked it clean.
“Hmmm,” you moaned as the flavours coated your tongue and you pulled back, licking your lips as you did. “Oh my god, Charles, that is delicious.”
You couldn’t help noticing how the green of his eyes had been swallowed by his blown pupils or the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed twice before he could muster a response. “Now that I’ve seen your cooking, I’m sure everything else tastes delicious.”
“It’s not that bad,” you said with a laugh as your attention was pulled away and a shot glass was placed into your hand. “I thought we were having cocktails?”
“We will, but,” Lando said as he reached past Charles to grab the salt before he sprinkled a line across his hand. “Tequila first, sunrise later.” He grabbed a wedge of lime next and pinched it between his teeth with a daring curl of his eyebrow.
The food was forgotten as Charles watched you wrapped your fingers around Lando’s wrist before running your tongue across his skin. The grains of salt coated your tongue as you raised the glass to your lips and tipped the liquor back under their heated stares. You swallowed the liquor and inhaled the fiery burn that followed as you eyed up lime waiting between Lando’s lips.
This moment balanced on a knife's edge and you could feel how influential it could be on making or breaking the friendship you had with both Lando and Charles. This was the line in the sand that once you crossed there could be no return.
No one dared to breathe. No one dared to move.
They were waiting for you.
You licked your lips of the salty spirit residue and stepped closer to him. Your fingers trailed up his neck to tease the short hairs on his nape as you pulled his head down to meet yours and you bit the lime, tearing it from his lips as the sour juice ran down your chin.
“You’re a bad influence,” you teased as you wiped away the excess and stepped back.
The tension in the air evaporated with his proud grin and Charles chuckled as he turned back to the pan before it burned for a second time.
“I’m just trying to cheer you up,” he replied innocently.
He made his way back to the wet bar with a little dance that had you laughing again. “It’s working.”
The sunset made the perfect backdrop over Monte-Carlo as you stepped out onto the balcony with a plate in each hand and placed them on the small square table. The music drifted out from the french doors after Lando queued enough songs to last the night and joined you and Charles with the extra strong drinks he had made.
“We should do this more often,” you said as a calm settled within you and you watched the yachts dotting the sea beyond the marina.
“What should we toast to?” Lando asked as he placed your glass in front of you, the cocktail matching the orange skyline.
“Single life?” you offered, earning a snort from him as he dropped into the seat beside you, mirroring Charles on the other side.
“How about the hunt?” Charles joked and you groaned at the reminder. “Since we are all looking for love now.”
“Not me,” you surprised them. “I’ve deleted every dating app from my phone and given up. I might even get a cat to keep me company.”
“I thought ‘a girl had needs’?” Lando teased with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows.
“Nothing a little self love can’t take care of,” you muttered to your drink as you took a sip, making Charles choke on his. “What? It’s true. You can’t tell me that you don't use your hand out when you need it.”
“We definitely need to do this more often,” Lando chuckled as he spared a fork full of extremely overcooked pasta.
Charles sent a grin across the table to Lando before their eyes turned to you, a mischievous glint reflecting in both pairs as Charles agreed with a nod.
“Then let’s cheers to that,” you said as you raised your glass.
“To the three of us,” Charles winked, clinking your glasses.
“The three of us.”
The empty plates were neatly stacked and the last rays of light had long disappeared, but you weren’t ready for the night to be over. The air was growing cold and the fading solar lights dotted around the deck were starting to attract bugs, interrupting the peaceful lull in conversation.
“Do you want to stay and watch a movie? You probably shouldn’t drive anyway.” You hoped your question didn’t sound too eager and tried to cover it up with the logical statement. It was needless though as they both perked up at the offer and started to clear the table.
“I’m up for a movie night,” Lando agreed as he took the glasses, leaving Charles to take the plates. “Another round?”
“Yes, please. I’ll meet you on the couch.”
You went to your room and changed out of the jeans and top you were wearing, opting for an oversized white AlphaTauri shirt you often slept in instead, before dragging the quilt off your bed. You switched the lights off around the apartment as you passed them and flopped down onto the couch between the two men who had been quietly chatting. Lando reached for the refilled glasses on the coffee table and handed you yours as you asked, “What are we watching?”
“Nothing sad or Charles will cry,” he said with a little laugh as he helped spread the blanket over everyone.
“And nothing with shooting or Lando will cry,” Charles shot back with his own teasing smirk.
“And nothing with romance or I will cry,” you added as you swiped up the remote and scrolled through the options on Netflix. “Guess that leaves horror. Paranormal Activity?”
You wanted to look away but you couldn’t as the crackling image on the screen only grew darker. You knew what was coming but it still didn’t stop the squeak that escaped your lips or the way your tense body startled at the jump scare.
The guys chuckled as if you hadn’t felt their legs knock yours at the sudden slam of a door and the blanket shifted until you felt a comforting hand on each thigh, resting just below the hem of the shirt. It took everything in you to keep still as their palms warmed your skin and the heat spread to your core and you felt Charles’ thumb start to draw soothing circles.
Under the guise of settling back into your skin after the fright, you laid back into the cushions and stretched your legs out. From the corner of your eye you could see Lando bite his lip as the shift left their hands even higher up your thighs, almost brushing the lace edge of your panties.
“Scared, chérie?” Charles asked, his voice a little deeper than usual.
It wasn’t the horror movie that was causing a fine tremor to work its way over your body, setting every nerve ending alight. And it certainly wasn’t the horror movie that was causing the goosebumps to tingle across your skin.
It had been a long time since a man came so close to you that your core was turning to molten lava without even being touched and you lost the battle to remain still, your thighs clenching together in search of friction. You could feel a second heartbeat throbbing between the juncture and as the blanket slipped down your body your peaked nipples were easy to spot through the thin material.
“Not exactly,” you uttered as Lando’s fingers squeezed your thigh, almost as if he were silently begging you to part them for him.
“You’re shaking,” Lando murmured close to your ear.
“I know,” you whispered as your throat clogged with the pleas for them to touch you, to slide their hands just another inch higher and sate the need your body craved.
You felt the touch of Charles’ shaped beard along your jaw before his lips brushed your ear. “Breathe, chérie. We’ll take care of you.”
His thumb drew another circle and your chest expanded with the softest gasp as you felt the pad of his digit run along the seam of your underwear.
Lando mirrored his friend, his breath hot on your neck where his lips set a trail of scorching fire to your ear. “Will you let us take care of you?”
Click here for part two.
Tagging: @destourtereaux @severerebelearthquake @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @omgsuperstarg @mvclff1 @alwaysclassyeagle @icantcomeupwithamusicalname-blog @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky @jpg3 @bangtanxberm @secretlyangrymagazine
#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x y/n#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#formula one imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula one fanfiction#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
PART ONE
⇚ NAVIGATION || MASTERLIST
This chapter is part of a two-part fic entitled 'Chivalry is Dead.' Click the link to view the series masterlist!
PAIRING: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader WORDS: 5.8k SUMMARY: You’re smitten with the archer you meet at the quarry who doesn’t believe in romance, vowing to make him yours, but it eventually becomes frustrating when he’s never clear with what he wants. WARNINGS: fluff. angst with comfort, then angst with no comfort. reader is very flirty with daryl. SETTING: the quarry, the farm, and the prison
I. A CHANGE OF SCENERY - THE QUARRY
Prim and proper, clean-shaven, wears an authentic watch, bothers to use cufflinks, gets a neat haircut often, works in corporate…
You liked your men worthy of an introduction to your family. The kind of guy who you could, with no shame, flaunt to your family. A guy who would do well in the role of a sweet, loving husband and father in the comfort of the suburban home you built together.
Shame that they’re pretty hard to come by lately, not to mention that it doesn’t even matter anymore—
“…Y’know what I mean?” you rambled to the archer who had a permanent scowl itched on his face. Unbeknownst to you thanks to your drunken stupor, he’d been listening to you going off about your type.
He watched as you held an almost empty bottle of alcohol pressed to your chest, your eyes manning the space around you as if you were talking to a crowd of people. Much to your luck, the rest of the people had eventually retreated to their own tents, leaving you to the company of this — sorta cute — redneck.
“Like, where do you think I could even get them these days?” you laughed, your eyes going back to him. “But then, like, y’know, it doesn’t even matter ‘coz I got my family killed! And I didn’t even do anything, I just ran like a fucking coward.”
Daryl decided an hour and a half ago that he’d up and go off to somewhere else, maybe to hunt. But he couldn’t bring himself to leave in concern for the drunk woman beside him who’d sooner or later become another hunter’s prey. Maybe even the undead’s.
Pain in ‘ma ass, he’d thought to himself while watching you with a scowl as he sank back down to the log in front of the campfire.
“I could use a bar of chocolate, but… This is the closest thing.” You made to gulp down more of the alcohol, but he reached out to snag it away from your hands. You yelled at the archer. “What are you—!”
“‘Yer a fuckin’ idiot,” he spat, setting the bottle aside. Daryl met your bewildered gaze, and he was certain you wouldn’t even remember it the next day. “Ain’t no reason blamin’ yourself for somethin’ ya couldn’t prevent. And ‘yer worried about all the wrong things, too! I’s out there huntin’ and I couldn’t care less ‘bout what kind’a girl I’d snag, I actually worried ‘bout somethin’ that matters! Like the fuck the camp’s gonna eat, which one of us would those stinking geeks get next and—!”
Daryl zipped his mouth shut for a good moment, realizing he’d said too much. Oh, fuck. He was thinking of ways to save this. He didn’t have an inkling on how to comfort a girl, much less a drunk and crying one. Your eyes turned glassy, your face contorting to…
“Pfft!” you laughed, further confusing the archer before you. He watched as you leaned backward, laughing. It was sort of a relief to watch and to hear; some great change of scenery to what he’d grown accustomed to seeing on the daily. “Y’know the” — you hiccuped — “funny thing about the guys I used to date? They ended up screwin’ some other pretty girl looking for the same guy as me. See, I cracked the code!”
You blinked a couple of times. Daryl remained silent. You couldn’t help but giggle as you leaned closer to the archer, and he couldn’t help but feel a surge of warmth in his chest as you came closer, your nose closing in on a couple of inches away from his.
A buzzing sensation crawled from your chest to your cheeks, warming your face up as you felt something begging to be unleashed from within you—a confession, perhaps?
He got a good whiff of the alcohol from your dry lips as you opened your mouth to speak. “I should’ve been looking for someone like you!”
Daryl felt heat rush to his cheeks. He wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing: Good because you considered him worthy of being chosen or bad because that would mean he was the opposite of everything you thought was ideal in a partner?
Why did it matter to him?
You leaned closer. “Better yet, I think that you’re—”
The warmth he could feel inside of his chest was now outside too, pouring on the surface of his shirt with alcohol and bile mixing in the humid air of the night.
“Fucking hell!” he cursed in a whisper as your body slumped forward, passing out asleep on his lap. Daryl would have done the same as you if somebody told him that that night was the beginning of an epic love story.
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
The following days went by like a blur, with Daryl’s suspicion that you recalled everything dissolving into the relief that maybe you really had no idea what happened that night. You acted normal the day after that brilliant occasion, save for groggy eyes that lasted the entire day as well as a visible temper.
You paid him no mind the entire time, but he assumed you were just embarrassed for confrontation. However, the entire week passed and you made no comment whatsoever about what transpired.
His eyes always lingered on you a second longer than he’d intend to in an attempt to get a glimpse of embarrassment. He’d been meaning to tease you about it as revenge, but… Looks like you’ve forgotten. He probably should, too.
This very relief went away when you volunteered to come along with him to hunt for food. “I’m coming along, you should teach me how to use your crossbow,” you said, dagger in hand.
He wanted to argue, but worried he’d say something that would trigger your memory, he only nudged his nose up as a nod.
The entire walk in the woods would have been a painful silence if not for the rustling of leaves in the trees and the subtle whistle of the wind.
You watched the broad shouldered archer before you made his way with calculated steps, even while you couldn't yet pinpoint a target. “Well, aren’t you stealthy?”
Daryl spared a glare your way. “Why’d ya go huntin’ anyway? And with a blunt knife at that—are ya and idiot or somethin’?”
“‘Cause I was thinking maybe you should teach me your weapon of choice.” You looked at him as if he said something mad. “Didn’t I just say that, like, two minutes ago?”
He noticed that you said ‘should’ instead of ‘could.’
“Let me get this straight,” the archer started, halting, and you knew a scowl would greet you before he even faced you. “Ya went into the woods to hunt, but ya don’t even have a clue how?”
“Oh, honey, I didn’t say I needed you to teach me how to hunt. Didn’t even say I was gonna hunt.” You stepped closer to him. You noticed he took a subtle step back, and you couldn’t help but grin. Could it be that this rugged gentleman is nervous? “I said I wanted you to teach me how to use your crossbow.”
He cleared his throat, pulling back his armor of a scowl matched with an anger that was certainly uncalled for. “Oh, yeah? It’s fuckin’ stupid of ya to think I go around grantin’ everybody’s requests! And I ain’t gonna just stand here and take this, hunt by yourself.”
Daryl turned around, a casual swagger to his walk. You had to smirk at his back, knowing what he’d do next once you hit him with your first ammunition: intel. “I know something you stood for and took like a champ.”
The archer froze.
“Thanks, by the way. And sorry you had to deal with that!” you exclaimed. “See, between the two of us, I’m not the stupid one. You could’ve used that against me, but you didn’t. And that just made me more interested in you—like, wow! You’re a lot more of a gentleman than you think you are.”
Oh, Daryl was pissed. Why were you the one making fun of him when it’s you who should’ve been abashed by what happened? “You remembered all along and ya didn’t say sorry?”
“I just did,” you said blankly.
Daryl faced you, shaking his head in a stubborn way. “Nah, ‘ya didn’t.”
“Yeah, I did. I said ‘sorry you had to deal with that.’”
He scoffed. “Doesn’t count.”
“Does too!” you spat back, this time grinning at the archer. You couldn’t help but laugh at his growing frown. “Come on, if you could take that with dignity, surely a crossbow lesson with Coach Daryl can’t be that bad.”
“Why do ya even want one? Thought ya said it wasn’t practical, righ’?” he asked, recalling all the times you called his weapon all kinds of things when you were drunk: “It’s way too heavy and takes up arm space! Can’t fit it in a pocket! It looks like a toy!”
You laughed out loud from his poor attempts at imitating you. Daryl felt the slightest tinge of embarrassment. He wanted to cup his own cheeks to make sure he wasn’t imagining the heat in there, worried he’d gone red. And if he did, he hoped you’d mistake it for the effect of the Georgia sun.
“Yeah, I did say that,” you said as-a-matter-of-factly.
Daryl raised a brow. “So why want it?”
You stepped forward again, taunting him. “Because I have a thing for the guy giving the lessons.”
The warmth that paid him a visit that one fateful night made its presence clearer, this time from the burrows of his chest. What the fuck was wrong with him?
“I ain’t interested,” he said. Daryl was all things, but not a liar. This time, though, he might just be one.
Although he was looking down at you, he felt as if he was the one being challenged from above. He gulped.
This time, you raised a brow at him. “Oh, you’re not into girls?”
“I—”
“I’m kidding. Y’know I thought the same, maybe you weren’t interested in me.”
Daryl shrugged, composing himself in an attempt to restore the dynamic he had in his head where he could be in a position where he could intimidate you. He couldn’t. “Yeah, ‘cause I ain’t.”
You continued to ramble on. “I was thinking, hey, maybe this guy doesn’t have any feelings for me!”
He put his hands on his hips, challenging you. But you weren’t quick to back down from a fight. “‘Cause I don’t.”
“Right,” you mused. “Didn’t you bring me a warm cup of tea the day after to help with my hangover?”
He watched you with question, but he worried you’d see the static coming from his chest and spreading to his arms. “Yeah, that woman Carol asked me to.”
“Huh,” you scoffed with a smile, ready for the look on his face to come and indicate your victory. “Funny. I was ready to ignore what happened, think of your kindness as nothing but kindness. But see, I came by sweet Carol’s tent to thank her but imagine my surprise when she said ‘What tea’?”
He had no answer to that. Usually, Daryl was a man who could think on his feet. Heck, you expected him to have some brilliant excuse. He was a hunter, after all. It was natural of him to think quickly.
You licked your lips, staring at his with that smirk of yours he wanted so badly to wipe off. “I’m gonna court you, Daryl Dixon. And you’re gonna say yes.”
The archer grunted, swinging his beloved weapon across his shoulder, shaking his head in denial. “I ain’t ever sayin’ yes to anything.”
“Sure, not today, not tomorrow, but a little push and I know I can get to you.”
Daryl spit somewhere on the dead soil surrounding you as he walked off to the trees. “Nah, never.”
As he disappeared into the forest, you couldn’t help but grin, feeling confident. You saw that moment of weakness. Somehow, some part of you knew it would happen. “Never say never, Daryl Dixon!”
You saw his middle finger raised just before he disappeared further, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Game on, archer.
It went on like that for a while. Daryl said he hated it, that ‘allat romance crap’s worth nothin.’ Still, those little slip-ups in his expressions and gait let you know that there was an opening there somewhere.
He did start teaching you how to use his crossbow, and the first time you were able to shoot a deer with it, you felt as if his silence was born from both his shock and the fact that he was possibly impressed.
“I can feel your boner from here, Dixon,” you smirked as you carried his crossbow with you as you began to walk over to your successful capture.
“Shuddup,” he said in response. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was definitely thrown off by how he was feeling watching you walking with his weapon.
“Help me with this,” you said, grabbing the animal by its hind legs. “Carry the deer so the gang could see how kickass I look with your crossbow. No wonder you like it, it makes me feel sexy.”
When you faced the archer, you raised a brow. He’d been staring and out of focus longer than he intended to be, not that he did. You smirk at this.
“You’re starting to like me,” you said, pointing at him with an accusatory finger. “You were staring.”
“Nuh uh,” he said, composing himself as he hurried to haul the animal over his shoulder.
“Is it the crossbow? ‘Cause I get it. I look at you with it and I think, ‘Oh, now that’s a man.’” You adjust the crossbow on your shoulder as Daryl watches you with confusion and… Maybe admiration? “I’m gonna do an experiment. This is hot.”
You move the crossbow to your hands, extending it outwards, posing for him with a slouch. “Not hot.”
You kept going on; hot with the crossbow, not hot for the crossbow. Until Daryl stopped you.
“Yer wastin’ time, yours and mine, when yer hot either way.” Daryl froze. So did you. His eyes widened, his cheeks redder than ever. “Not hot. Either way. Hey, I—!”
“You think I’m hot! You said I—!” you exclaim. Daryl clasped his clean hand over your mouth, pushing you against the tree.
“They’re gonna hear ya.”
No walker came by. You could hear nothing but Daryl’s breath and yours, at least until he dropped his hand.
On the walk back to camp, you were grinning the entire way. Daryl remained silent, afraid he’d say something that you could use against him.
“That was a Freudian slip,” you said with a snort.
Daryl wanted to argue, but knowing he couldn’t trust himself with talking, he kept his words short. “A what?”
“You subconsciously said something you actually meant. I get it, really.” You make a show of holding his crossbow. “I like you, you like me. But then you feel embarrassed that I’m going after you before you could go after me because you feel weird about a woman pursuing you even though you clearly really have the hots for her.”
He fought to keep his face stoic. “Nah, I don’t.”
“Yeah, you do.”
“Alrigh,” Daryl said just to end the conversation.
“Alright as in yes you do?” you tease the archer.
Daryl smirked, determined to get you to admit defeat on your mission to pursue him. “Alrigh’ as in I don’t care.”
But you weren’t a quitter. He’d shown a glimpse of how he felt, and you were determined to get it out of him. By the time you reached camp, you handed his crossbow over to him with a glimmer in your eyes.
“You seemed to enjoy having your hands on me just a couple of minutes ago.” You flip him off as you walk away to go help out with the rest of the people in the camp. “See ya, Dixon.”
Though he wouldn’t show it, Daryl would rather sleep in the woods alone, weaponless than admit that he did.
It wasn’t just that. He didn’t hate the things you were doing to him and for him. He hated that he wished he thought of pursuing you sooner so he’d have the upper hand. . .
Nah, nah, I don’t. He shook his head to himself.
But it became harder to deny whenever you went out of your way to do something for him, especially when he lost his brother. When he mourned Merle, you were there. And you weren’t a menace like he thought you would be.
You were just. . .there. Giving him the bigger half of whatever food you had, lingering just ever so near, and more. Daryl was surprised to realize that he enjoyed your company.
He knew he was fucked. Especially when he realized he missed you flirting with him, but he’d never tell you that.
II. NICE - GREENE FARM
Looking for a missing child was way easier when there were no corpses roaming the land of the living, back when there was no need to distinguish what’s alive and what’s not. You were hoping that Sophia would turn up as soon as possible.
You felt a twinge of guilt realizing that your hope for the child being found was just Daryl’s return, but it wasn’t like that at all. It wasn’t that you had this silly crush on the archer. Yes, you did, but you needed the right time to talk to him about what happened at the CDC.
You’d never felt so mortified. For the longest time, you’ve been saying that you wanted to accept death in exchange for peace. You always thought that when the time comes, you’d be ready. It was a fucked up way to realize that you weren’t, and you found yourself out of breath, unable to chase your breathing.
Daryl was hysterical, but upon seeing you, he immediately rushed in front of you, cupping your face with his rough hands.
“We’re gettin’ outta here alive,” he’d told you as your chest heaved from realizing you were nearing your doom. He then held you against his chest, his calloused fingers caressing your hair with the most gentle care, as if holding you wrong would cause you to break. You weren’t able to process the rest, but you remembered him at first assisting you in walking until he eventually carried you in his arms out of the facility right before it deteriorated.
You never got to speak to him since then except for when you encountered the herd on the road. He just asked if you were okay, and that was it.
He’d been preoccupied looking for Sophia ever since. You didn’t want to assume that he’d only been looking for her just because that would make you the biggest insensitive asshole in the world.
Just then, a young blonde girl came out of the house, a tray in hand.
“Hi,” she said. You could tell right from how she held herself that she was of good nature. “I’m Beth. I brought you some tea and some oatmeal.”
A small smile came on your face, and you couldn’t help but let it grow brighter when you watched the girl realize why.
“Oh, I gave this to you on my own—nevermind,” she sighed. “He told me not to tell you ‘cause he said you were—”
“A pain in his ass?” you teased with a grin. “Verbatim?”
Beth considered what she was going to say, but she eventually smiled as well as she set it on the small stool table beside the rocking chair you were sitting on while you stared in the distance. “Well, yes.”
You laughed together with the girl. It was easy to talk to her, you felt light.
“But he also told me to watch after you.”
You waved your hand, dismissing Daryl’s order to the girl. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. In fact, we should share this oatmeal. It looks good!”
Beth gave you the warmest smile anyone’s ever given you for the past week. “No, I’m okay. He specifically told me to make sure you eat enough. Said he’d bring in something later for you later.”
This time, heat rushed to your cheeks. You stuffed it down. “I’m pretty sure the meat’s for all of us, just including me.”
“I don’t know,” Beth said, leaning against the railing of the house’s front porch. The air certainly felt different in the farm compared to every other place you’ve been to. The sun was setting, and the view of the sky could make anyone oblivious to the newfound horrors of the world. “He was talking about how you needed it, but my dad said you weren’t in need of any medicine. You just needed to eat somethin. And if you needed something for your headache, we have it.”
“I see,” you said, your shoulders sinking. “He’s probably just avoiding me.”
Beth faced you, confused. “Why would he do that?”
“Well, that’s Daryl.” You shrugged, thinking back to what he’d done for you at the CDC. You could almost feel his arms carrying you again, and you couldn’t help but feel the heat in your cheeks return. You instinctively look down.
Beth noticed your brow furrowing just before you reached out to feel your temple. “Do you need anything?”
“Sorry you have to take care of me,” you say with an apologetic smile. “Just whatever you have for headaches and a decent sleep.”
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
You awoke around the middle of the night to the door to your room shutting closed. At first, you thought that someone came in only to find that you were completely alone. You then heard the faint sound of footsteps walking down the stairs just outside.
Stirring awake, you sit up straight to rub your eyes. Outside, the sky was dark. You must’ve slept for around eight hours, because you could no longer feel sleep returning easily. The urge was there, but you knew sinking back into a deep sleep would be for nothing.
You yawn and scratch at your neck. On the nightstand to your right, you’re relieved to find a glass of water. But what stole your attention was what sat right next to it.
You were surprised to find three packs of chocolates: KitKat Bars, Kisses, and Hershey’s. There were also some packs of M&Ms.
Thinking back to the footsteps rushing down the stairs just a minute ago, you hurriedly carried all of the chocolates with you and ran down the stairs as lightly as you could so as to not wake anyone.
You swung the screen door open, trudging down the stairs of the porch. You reach Daryl just before he enters the tent. You chuck the pack of KitKats to his head, to which he yelped. “Ow!”
“Do you like me?” you ask directly.
The archer faces you, picking up the pack of KitKats you threw at him. “What’d ya do that for?”
“Do you like me?” you ask, firmer this time.
There’s that pause. That two-second, lingering, suffocating pause. “I don’t.”
But that pause meant maybe. Both of you knew it, he just didn’t want to admit it, like he always does. Annoyed, you throw the rest of the chocolates to his feet. “Then you shouldn’t be doing things that make it seem like you do!”
You don’t know if it was the painkillers or just your interrupted sleep, but you definitely felt your temper controlling you.
“I was bein’ nice.”
“Nice is opening the door for someone. Nice is handing the water pitcher at the dinner table. Nice is not asking someone to take care of me while you’re away, nice is not you bringing me chocolates like it’s Valentine’s to cheer me up when you know damn well how I feel about you. Nice is not making me feel like you feel the same and then take it back then just act like you do feel the same again!”
Daryl stood there, taking it all.
You rubbed at your eyes, your shoulders slumping. You feel a lump in your throat and your eyes begin to water. You stare at him for three seconds before turning around to return inside when he grabs you by the wrist to pull you into that same embrace he’d wrapped you into that day at the CDC.
He was warm. God, he was warm. You hated that your body craved the press of his.
He held you until you stopped crying. Until, for some reason, you were holed up in his tent, eating the chocolates he got for you while the two of you talked about everything and nothing.
You realized how easy it was to speak to Daryl, too. How it came naturally, and how you felt comfortable being yourself around him outside of the flirting. Maybe it really was better to remain friends.
You were just being nice to each other. But if Daryl really did feel an ounce of what you felt, then that wouldn’t be very nice of him.
For a while, you accepted that. You stopped pursuing him altogether and maintained a respectable distance with him. He then always seemed to be everywhere you went, but you told yourself you were in over your head thinking he’d ever even feel the same way.
III. RETURN - PRISON
Life was good. Save for the nightmare that was facing the Governor, of course. The last time you felt a grudge against him was when he left with his brother, but you stopped yourself from feeling anything. After all, that was his brother and you were…
A friend. He’d apologized leaving by bringing you more chocolates from his run. Things have been good lately. You loved being friends with Daryl.
Sure, you’d find yourself in feats of attraction towards the guy ever so often, like the time he carried baby Judith. . .
That was something.
It didn’t help that he was looking at you while he was carrying her, even playing with her and showing her to you. You hated that even though you say you feel nothing anymore, sometimes everything resurfaces.
If only you knew what was going through his mind when he passed baby Judith to you.
Those were little tests that failed to weaken your belief that you were better off as friends. You survived them. Yep, you were fine being friends. It was just a silly crush anyway.
“[Y/N],” Daryl called from outside your cell. “[Y/N], we’re heading out to get some meds, ‘ya need anythin’? Chocolates again, maybe?”
You were covered in two blankets head neck to toe, your back to the cell door. You said nothing, much less did anything to indicate you heard him. Daryl stepped inside, feeling bad that he’d crossed over but he somehow felt like he had to.
“[Y/N]?”
By the second Daryl laid his hands on your shoulder to tap you, he knew he had to turn you over. You were shivering in your half-sleep, and yet when Daryl pressed the back of his palm against you, you were burning up.
“Jesus, you’re—!”
“I think I caught it,” you said. You try to sit up, and Daryl helps you up. You turn the other way to cough. “I was gonna bring myself to the quarantine cell block, but I couldn’t stand up.”
“Here, I got ‘ya,” he said, helping you up. “You sure ‘ya don’t wanna stay here in your cell instead?”
You shook your head. “I could turn and infect everyone. I—”
“Hey.” He cupped your cheek with his hand, gently tapping it to keep you in check. “You’re not gonna turn, I’m not gonna let that happen to ‘ya. I’m goin’ out and gettin’ ‘ya the meds, then yer gonna be fine.”
“Well, that’s awfully nice of you,” you said drunkenly. On the way to the isolated block, you feel yourself losing your step… Losing your consciousness…
“[Y/N]? [Y/N]!”
And it all went dark.
The days that followed promised a new routine. After the supply run, you were the first stop Daryl visited. He talked to you, took care of you. He’d tell you stories about him and his brother Merle. You’d tell him about the guys you dated and every single terrible date experience you’ve had.
“Yeah, you said you hated dating ‘em. So you wanted to date guys like me instead, y’know, the kind you’d be embarrassed to introduce to your ma and pa.”
You laughed. “Oh, come on. I didn’t mean it like that.”
Friends, friends, friends. That’s how it is, how it should’ve been right from the start. It’s so easy to laugh with Daryl, so easy to be with him.
That was until you got better. You were out, making the rounds.
“Ya shouldn’t be here,” he’d told you when he caught you walking the perimeter with a revolver. “At least not yet. I’ll take over from here.”
“Nah, somehow I feel way sicker when I’m not doing anything.”
He shrugged. “You could read a book.”
“Oh, yeah?” you chuckled.
“Oh, yeah.”
Silence again. It was just the two of you in the dead of night, and you wondered if you only imagined the flurry of emotions back then when you were separated when you got sick.
You wanted to stay there in that moment forever, just standing in the dark with Daryl. But you felt a sort of suffocating sensation the moment you thought of him fondly. You were a bit sleepy anyway.
“Actually, maybe I should go.” Yawning, you stuff the revolver back to your holster. “Good night, Daryl.”
You only got to walk past him a couple of steps before he spoke.
“[Y/N]?” he called out to you just before you were about to return to your quarters. You felt sleep about to take you in deeply, but you fought it off, telling yourself it’ll be quick.
You face the archer, raising an interrogative brow in response.
For some strange, mundane reason, you found him extra lovely tonight. You were forced to discover why as he leaned forward, pressing his lips into yours in the most gentle way he could. You pull away.
There’s a question in your eyes, and so he only kisses you again in response. You kiss him back, this time with desperation. You don’t know where to put your hands, overwhelmed by this gust of exhilaration washing over you as his hands caress the nape of your neck.
He pulls away this time.
You couldn’t believe it. So many thoughts ran into your head. Pursuing Daryl used to be something you were just looking forward to as a challenge, maybe even just for the sole purpose of enjoying a fling knowing the end is near.
But you got to know him. He got to know you, and you let him. You felt heat rush to your cheeks, bringing them high enough for the most genuine grin to show in your face. “Does this mean—?”
“Nah.” He takes a step backward, and your grin instantly dissolves into a frown at the sight of him shaking his head. “No, I…”
What?
You shake your head in disbelief.
What the fuck?
Your smile faltered further. The butterflies in your stomach you thought you felt suddenly felt as if you were about to throw it up again.
“No?” you utter in disbelief, the taste of his lips still stuck somewhere in your mouth. You step backward as well, staring into space as you touched the lips of yours he’d just kissed with so much passion, opposite to the coldness he’d brought upon you with that one word. The rush from the kiss was being drowned by an otherworldly anger threatening to be unleashed. “What the—No?”
You turn your focus to him again. He says nothing, his back to you as he stares into the dark greenery outside of the fence.
“You make me chase after you like a fool and ‘No’?”
Daryl sunk into himself. He didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve anything you gave him. He didn’t know what to say. “I didn’t ask ‘ya to.”
He wanted to disappear.
“Right.” You had to laugh. “Turn around. Face me.”
The archer obliged, and you couldn’t read his face enough through the tears born from your anger. He hated that he wanted to grab you by the waist and pull you into another kiss, to press his lips against your neck and down to your chest. He wanted to caress your hair, to—
“Back at the CDC, I wanted to stop pursuing you. But then” — his heart broke as your voice cracked — “you held my hand when we found out we could die and you looked at me with those fucking eyes of yours on your goddamn face and I thought maybe there was something real, something I could get out of you if I tried hard enough.”
“We’re gettin’ outta here alive,” he’d told you as your chest heaved from realizing you were nearing your doom. He held you against his chest, his calloused fingers caressing your hair with the most gentle care, as if holding you wrong would cause you to break.
“Then you were cold again, and I thought maybe you were just being kind like usual back then but you—argh! You got me chocolates when I was scared shitless from almost dying and called it being nice and friendly before holding me again!”
You rubbed your eyes, frustrated more than ever.
“You just had to take advantage of the fact that I’m weak for you! You nursed me back to health when I got sick, you spoke to me as if you felt the same way, just—everything! You say you didn’t ask me to chase after you but when I did stop, you find ways to get me back on your trail and now you kiss me and then you take it back?”
You felt your heart begging to be freed. You couldn’t breathe. The lump in your throat was building up, and you knew it did its work once you felt your cheeks begin to wet.
You couldn’t even see him clearly through your tears. “What the fuck do you want, Daryl?”
How could he tell you? What could he say? He didn’t even know what he wanted. Still, you waited in hopes he’d give you an explanation. That he’d at least explain himself.
“Do you like me?” you ask him again. No response.
You steel yourself for what you were about to ask next.
“Do you love me?”
Silence.
“God, I’m so stupid."
Realizing the chance you gave him is all for naught, you shook your head with a mirthless laugh as you walked away. The embrace of sleep never returned, and you were left to stare at the ceiling, waiting for daybreak to come just so you could fight an unwinnable war.
i'm still building my blog. so for now, just send me an ask to be added to my taglist :)
TAGLIST: @vaniniweenie @avabh12 @stinkygirl009
#zirconika.fic#daryl dixon x fem!reader#daryl dixon x reader#the walking dead#daryl dixon angst#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon#daryl dixon fluff#daryl dixon x fem!reader angst#daryl dixon x fem!reader fluff#daryl dixon x reader angst#daryl dixon x reader fluff#the walking dead x reader#the walking dead x reader angst#the walking dead x reader fluff#twd#twd x reader#twd x reader angst#twd x reader fluff#twd daryl#twd daryl dixon#norman reedus
163 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tomura's Blk Girlfriend
Cw: monster cock shiggy, daddy kink, degrading (slut,) praise (sweetheart, baby), spanking, rough sex, hair pulling, choking, belly bulging, spit swallowing(reader), lowkey god complex shiggy, creampie
Word count: 2.4k 🎉🥳 Yippie you get a wc.
Authors notes: You can read this if you want to this was completely self Indulgence, good luck 💕 and reblogs are welcomed
You were the baddest bitch walking, hard to come by, hard to get with, and especially hard to please. Nobody would have guessed you'd have a loser boyfriend like Tomura Shigaraki. A loser boyfriend that does nothing but stream on twitch, drinks monster energy drinks, literally forgets to bathe unless it's with you, amazing dick game, hates going out but will do just about anything to please his goddess, his player 2, his Queen, the love of his life.
You were like a fantasy in front of him. Tomura didn't really understand fully how on earth he bagged you, even his homeboy Dabi hadn't a clue as to how it happened. One day Dabi and the gang decided to drag Tomura out of his shitty apartment, really it was Toga's idea of everyone hanging out at the mall. They even had an arcade so Tomura HAD to come with them and they didn't give him a choice at all.
It all started when they were hanging out at the arcade Tomura was trying to make up his mind as to what game he wanted to play first while Toga dragged Twice and Dabi around to different stores to look at “cute” stuff, Spinner, Mr.Compress and Big sis Magne had also split off to the food court leaving Tomura to himself where he just so happened to catch a glimpse of you struggling at a stupid claw machine. Those things were a big scam anyways , but you desperately wanted this cute ass hello kitty plushie for your collection and you just had to have it.
Just watching you fail time after time irked his nervous you either didn't know what the fuck you were doing or you just sucked ass at crane games, so he dug into his red trench coat for his wallet. This was your sixth time failing to get this damn plushie before tomura jumped in front of you with some money of his own.
“Hey! I was-”
“Oh Shut up and watch a pro at work.”
And you did exactly that, shut up. Watching him go for the same plushie you wanted. you were lost in thought for a moment thinking about if you couldn't get it, then what made him think he could. That was until she heard the machine's winner alarm go off bringing you back to reality.
“Do you want it or not lady?!” You had such a confused look on your face when you took it from him.
“How did you…”
“Pfft- Come on it was fuckin easy, you just suck at it.”
Looking past his rough, patchy looking skin he was actually fine as hell. But you really liked the look of his sharp piercing red eyes god he was so mean looking… and he had a bit of a mouth on him too. Meanwhile, When Tomura got a good look at you he was silently in awe from your glistening melanin skin, those kinky tight curls, the luscious curves of your body, yeah he was definitely checking you out, but thought to himself how you're way out of his league you'd never date someone like him, a loser.
“Aye... You- kinda cute, what's your name?”
“HUH!?” He was so stunned. A girl? Thinking he was cute? Attractive? Him!? You'd be the death of him. He nervously started scratching at the skin of his neck.
“You're joking right? Did Dabi set you up to this? I'll fuckin kill him-”
“No, no, wait who the fuck is Dabi? Actually, just chill babes I'm talkin to you?”
“I- hmph, why do you want to know my name?”
“Uh, so I can get to know my future boyfriend, but that's cool if your-”
“Tomura! Tomura Shigaraki and uh.. What's yours?”
Hm. Got em. “It's Y/N, but you can call me whatever you want, baby.” God it was like you were seducing him with just your tone, and voice he couldn't stand, but he had to have you whether you were joking with him or not, you were his from the get go.
Damn his heart was pounding out of his chest just from these silly pet names you were already giving him.
Tomura looked around to see if there were cameras anywhere, maybe he was getting punk'd- god he hated that show. Or maybe you were actually dead serious and he just didn't believe it because the only thing he's ever touched was his dick and bottle of some shitty off brand lotion that he never uses.
“So can I get your number, Cutie?”
“My Number?! Cutie?! No really are you for real right now this isn't some joke?! ”
Fast forward you've been with your loser boyfriend for about five years and counting. He's been so good to you despite him coming off mean as hell all the time it was something you had gotten use to, but also slowly learned he means well that's just how Tomura was and He has also learned to be a little more kind and gentle towards you, since you treat him so well after all. Washing and braiding his messy white hair, although his skin was never a problem to you- he couldn't help his skin condition leaving him with those damn wrinkles around his eyes, chapped and uneven lips, dry irritated flaky skin, but you wanted to help him as long as he let you. Oh how he loved the way you took care of him and his skin, buying him all kinds of skin care products for sensitive skin and eczema creams, you loved taking care of your man.
In return he took care of your every single need. You needed more hair products? Makeup? Clothes? Somebody dead? Sex? He'd do anything to please his Queen. Because of you he actually gets out a little more taking you out on dates, buying you whatever you like and he cleans up nicely just for you. he loved spending time with you the most whether you're watching him stream online, playing with him, listening to him argue with his viewers over you, helping you style and wash your hair, fucking like rabbits he loved every bit of it.
But boy did y'all have the best time in bed. Sex with Tomura was so good, you almost didn't believe he was a virgin the first time you two fucked and he was so big he had a damn third leg. It felt like he was splitting you in half on it there was just so much, but he was making you take that dick, everytime you two fucked he'd make you take all of it.
You especially loved it when he and the league of villains got pressed on COD and ended up losing.
“Damn it! Toga I told you to pick me up!”
“You were on the other side of the map I was trying, Twice was supposed to cover me!”
“Don't get your panties in a bunch, we'll get em next time.” Dabi took his headset off immediately.
“They cheated! I got domed by a camper, Toga!” Twice begged.
Big sis magne tried to be the one encouraging the group “Will get em next time boss!”
“I don't want a fucking next time, I want results, Fuck!” You knew he was angry when he threw off his headset. You were drooling from both your mouth and coochie definitely can't wait for the pounding you were going to receive as soon as he came in the room.
“Strip, now.” Instead of scratching at his neck he found a new way to relieve his stress, You.
Hell he really didn't have to tell you twice or at all really, but silly you not stripping before he ever opened his mouth.
“Yes, Sir.” you were trained well, just for him you couldn't wait to take his monster cock, all those delicious 12 inches.
You hoped he'd his sweatshirt on this time, the smell of his gamer boy musk turned you on little did he know.
“That's right, on your knees, I want you ass up, Slut.” And a slut you were after stripping your night clothes, you proceeded to do exactly what daddy said face down ass up just for him.
Tomura made his way over to you, getting a good look at that ass he loved so much, massaging your cheeks with his rough hands. Gripping, spreading your cheeks apart.. slapping. He was doing too much teasing to be this angry, you wanted him right now, but who were you to open your mouth and complain?
“Fuck…look at that. “ he said under his breath.
Tomura was staring at how drenched your pussy was for him already and he hasn't even fucked you yet.
He just couldn't get enough of you, watching you tease him by waving your pussy at him like waving a bone in front of a dog got him going.
He was in a hurry getting his dingy old sweats off not wanting to keep waiting any longer.
Tomura took his cock in one hand, rubbing the head in the slick of your pussy, letting out a satisfied groan once he shoved the head into your tight hole letting out a hiss as he pushed half of his cock in since that's all your pussy could take.
“Mmm, So big daddy..” You groaned and gasped as he started to move.
He groaned at her words, feeling a wave of pleasure wash over him. Her tightness and the way she gasped only heightened his desire for her.
"You feel so good, sweetheart." he said, his voice rough and strained. "So perfect and tight. Fuck I could stay like this forever.”
Tomura's pace started to pick up the more he continued to admire your body, those bumps, and curves, stretch marks, the cellulite, the way your ass jiggled at each thrust he made, god he was drunk off of you. You were his stress relief at the end of the day and he wouldn't have it any other way.
“Don't whine now, you can take some more, come on take this dick.” He was damn near pounding into you, he took a handful of hair and yanked you up onto your knees without your back against his chest. Taking the same hand he put his arm around your throat and his other around your waist.
You loved it when he was this rough, it was so good you couldn't help, but to meet him thrusts, you desperately tried to keep up with his pace.
A smirk spread across Tomura’s face as he whispered in your ear in a rough and ragged tone “ uh huh, yeah throw that ass back on me, baby.” He stopped his thrusts so focus on feeling you use his cock to fuck yourself.
With the same arm around your waist he took his hand, gliding it down your belly to feel the bulge that his cock was leaving in you. “You feel me right here don't you, slut? Fuck, I'm gonna cum all on your insides, you deserve it don't you? Don't you baby? Yeah, Keep fucking yourself on my cock!”
“To- Tomura- Fuuuuck”
Unable to take the boring pace you were going at, Tomura shoved your face back into the mattress, pushed down on the arch of your back and continued at his brutal pace he had from earlier. The room was filled with the sounds of skin smacking against one another, moans and raspy groans coming from the two of you.
By this point you were a crying and moaning mess even a white ring was forming around his cock.
Tomura flipped you into your back he wanted to see that pretty little face you make when your cumming from his cock, he loved the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head to the way you swallowed his spit when he spat in your mouth, he loved the way you begged for air every time he choked grabbing at his wrist as tight as you could.
Once his thrusts started getting a bit sloppy that's when you could tell he was close, and he could definitely tell you were close the way your pussy tightened around his cock.
He could feel himself getting even closer, the orgasm building up inside him like a coiled spring, ready to snap. His moans are getting more ragged by the minute, Your stiletto nails digging small dents in his skin as you could feel yourself getting close to a climax.
“God! Fu—”
“That's right baby I am your fucking God, keep screaming my name while your at it.”
He groaned at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin, the pleasurable pain adding to the intensity of the moment. And the sound of you screaming his name sent him over the edge with one last thrust he came deep inside you and so did you. Tomura pulled his cock out leaving you shaking and quivering while he tried to catch his breath while taking in your expression you had from being so full of him to so empty you could almost pout.
But as much as he would love to give you more he had a stream to get back to so he gave you a quick kiss before whispering “Now you're a good little slut I'll give you some more cock when I'm done, until then you better not let a drop of my cum waste from that sweet pussy of yours, got it?”
All you could do was pout and nod, yeah it was a bit unfair, but he promised to give you more later, right? Knowing him, that'd be 2 hrs from now. But there was no use in complaining he was already back on stream before you could even make a complaint.
“So what you're telling me is that you guys can't do SHIT without me?”
“They called for an airstrike boss, what did you want us to do?!” Twice complained.
“Well as far as I'm concerned Compress and I carried the team.” Big Sis Magne exclaimed.
“And what about Dabi?”
“He kinda rage quit…” Mr.Compress said lightly.
“Wait Boss, before you get upset I did a good job picking up mostly everyone.. By Everyone I mean Dabi.”
“So not only do I hate him, he sucks dick at COD too Great.”
"Tomura you can't hate Dabi forever!"
"See that's where you're wrong Toga, see if you would let me show, I could take this to the next leave."
"But I heard that's not healthy for you." Toga pouted, worried about the health of her boss.
"Toga I have microplastics in my dick- I'll be fine.”
Tags: @littlemochabunni @blkkizzat @arlerts-angel @ramonathinks @nkogneatho @tonycries @connorsui @honeeslust @halosdiary @hoshigaby @screampied @rinhaler @buttercupblu @triangularz @fairy-hub
#bnha tomura#bnha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#shigaraki tomura x reader#bnha x reader#shigaraki tomura#bnha drabble#bnha shigaraki#shigaraki x reader#mha shigaraki#mha x reader#tomura shiragaki
185 notes
·
View notes