#it’s as if she’s trying to protect herself instinctively
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can we have a similar one to „All for one we fight together“ in Bayverse but they find out with the NYPD after the second movie that Shredder has a wife who is pregnant meaning she may end up giving him a Shredder Part 2 and they meet her and she’s a really nice lady Shredders wife=Us
Hello, hello! I'm glad you liked that fic, and I hope you like this one too ~ ♡♡♡♡
Shadows of Redemption *.✧
It had been a few months since the city was saved from Krang’s alien invasion, and things had finally started to settle down. The turtles were back to their usual patrols, the NYPD was trying to rebuild trust after the chaos, and April and Casey were enjoying some much-needed normalcy.
The news came through a quiet tip to April from a contact in the NYPD. "You’re not gonna believe this," April had said when she told the turtles, her voice low and disbelieving. “Shredder has a wife. And she’s due in a couple of months.”
"You're kidding," Raphael said, incredulous, leaning back against the couch in their lair.
Leo frowned, his arms crossed. “If this is true, it could mean trouble. A child could become a legacy for him.”
“Hold up,” Mikey interrupted, waving his hands. “Are we saying Shredder had time for romance between being a crime lord and an alien’s sidekick?”
Donnie adjusted his glasses, ignoring Mikey’s comment. “If this is accurate, the NYPD probably considers her a potential threat.”
April nodded. “They’re keeping an eye on her but haven’t made a move yet. They don’t want to draw too much attention.”
“Sounds like we need to meet her ourselves,” Leo said firmly.
The meeting was carefully planned. Through April’s connections, they arranged to approach her in a not public, neutral location.
When you arrived, the turtles, hidden in shadows nearby, were surprised by how… ordinary you looked. There was nothing about you that screamed “villain’s spouse.” If anything, you looked nervous, glancing around as you waited for April to approach.
When April introduced herself, you smiled warmly, though there was a guardedness in your eyes. “I’ve heard of you,” you said softly. “You’re the reporter who’s always getting into trouble.”
April laughed nervously. “Guilty as charged.”
You looked down at your hands, resting protectively over your belly. “Let me guess. You’re here because of my husband.”
April hesitated before nodding. “The NYPD is… concerned. And so are my friends.”
At the word “friends,” you glanced toward the shadows, as if sensing the presence of others.
“I figured someone would come eventually,” you said quietly. “But I promise you, I’m not a threat. I just want to live in peace.”
When the turtles finally revealed themselves, stepping out of the shadows, your reaction wasn’t fear or anger. Instead, your eyes widened in recognition.
“So,” you said, your voice calm, “these are the famous mutants my husband was so obsessed with.”
Raph narrowed his eyes. “You say that like you’re not on his side.”
You sighed, your hand instinctively rubbing your belly. “I’m not on his side. I never was.”
Donnie tilted his head, clearly intrigued. “Then why marry him?”
You hesitated, looking down for a moment. “When I met him, he wasn’t… this. He was ambitious, yes, but not cruel. At least, not to me. By the time I realized what he was truly capable of, I was already trapped.”
Mikey frowned. “Trapped how?”
“Do you think someone like Shredder just lets people walk away?” you asked bitterly. “I wanted to leave, but he wouldn’t allow it. When I found out I was pregnant, he claimed it was ‘proof’ we were meant to be together.”
Leo’s expression softened, though his voice remained firm. “Why not go to the police?”
“I’ve tried,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “But his reach is everywhere. Every time I tried to run, he found me. Now, all I can do is protect my baby and hope… hope that he doesn’t grow up to be like his father.”
The turtles exchanged glances. You didn’t seem like a threat—far from it. You were kind, intelligent, and clearly terrified of the man you’d married.
“I don’t want my child to inherit his legacy,” you said firmly, meeting Leo’s gaze. “I want him to have a chance at a normal life. To be good. But I can’t do it alone.”
Raph crossed his arms. “So, what? You want us to play babysitter?”
“No,” you said quickly. “I just need to know that, if something happens to me, my baby will be safe. I don’t trust the police. I don’t trust anyone. But you…” You paused, looking at them with something like hope. “You’re different. You fight to protect people.”
Leo stepped forward, his tone resolute. “We’ll help you. We won’t let Shredder use you—or your child—for his plans.”
Tears filled your eyes, and you nodded gratefully. “Thank you.”
In the weeks that followed, the turtles kept a close watch on you, often checking in to make sure you were safe. You and April became fast friends, and even Casey found himself warming up to yourl.
Donnie built a secure monitoring system for your apartment, ensuring no one couldn’t sneak up on you. Mikey brought you snacks and joked about teaching your baby how to skateboard someday. Raph remained gruff but secretly went on extra patrols near your neighborhood, just in case. And Leo, became your rock, always assuring you that you weren’t alone.
When the day finally came for you to give birth, the turtles were there—hidden in the hospital’s shadows but ready to protect you his remaining followers tried anything.
As you held your newborn son in your arms, tears streaming down your face, you whispered, “You’re going to have a better life than he ever wanted for you. I promise.”
#reader#x reader#y/n#tmnt#tmnt x reader#bayverse tmnt x reader#f!reader#tmnt bayverse#bayverse leonardo#bayverse mikey#bayverse donnie#bayverse raphael#x pregnant reader
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also i find it very interesting that all of the companions stand with their feet apart in a wide stance except for Shadowheart. she physically shrinks in and makes herself smaller even in her idle animation
#also everyone’s stances are very neutral except Shadowheart and Astarion#Lae’zel’s is very strong but still neutral#shes solid. sturdy. hard to push over or knock off course.#Astarion has his feet planted wide like everyone else but his weight is on one leg#he’s doing almost a roguish stance (no pun intended) like he’s trying to charm/disarm you#which makes sense because he’s putting on an act. he’s trying to win you over#meanwhile Shadowheart stands shrunk in on herself. her arm tucked in is the one with the wound. she’s taking up as little space as possible#it’s as if she’s trying to protect herself instinctively#someone smarter than me should analyse all their stances properly#i feel like there’s stuff to say about Wyll and Gale and Karlach but i am not intelligent so
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“if i turn from doing what’s right, i’ll lose myself” / “then i’m coming with you” / “i know :)”
#i already had thoughts abt them but the whole. the don’t go where i can’t follow trope. omfgggg#the way that after a year of knowing each other something shifted in sabine the moment harding got injured#such a small sudden shift but it changed everything#suddenly sabine found herself thrown off guard by the way harding looked at her#that softness. that vulnerability.#not because she was scared but because she felt an urge she’d never felt before#this ache to protect her#she wants to do everything for her. to be there for her and uplift her and provide for her and make her so so so SO happy#an all-encompassing desire to be With Her. such a new feeling that she just can't keep herself from giving in to#whether she's trying or not. she can't help it. true north always points to lace harding#sabine was always on her own romantically. flirting was a means to an end. sex was between friends not lovers.#it's not that she thought love didn't exist it's that she never bothered trying to find it so when IT found HER it got her by the throat#it is so simple but this is loveeee she's falling in loveeeeeee#and the FEAR oh my god#her love for harding was born out of the realization she's afraid to lose her and so fear is at the heart of their relationship#the urge to protect is first instinct. she was a treasure hunter. hypervigilance is second nature#‘i know.’ yeah babe. she sure does.#anyways.txt#jasmine plays datv#ch: sabine laidir#god there are parallels between sabine/harding and alistair/rowena now that i'm getting into the meat of it. hold on a second#man hold on a second........#unease permeating the air. stolen moments amidst the despair. paralyzing fear of loss and grieving before the tragedy has even struck#MMMM OKAY. OKAY.#the difference is sabine is a grown woman with a healthy brain and rowena is like nineteen traumatized and insane
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I think its actually such a crucial part of cassie that shes. she's very stereotypically girlie and soft and not a fighter and she doesnt want to be!! she's soft and gentle and kind and thats who she wants to be!! she is put through a Lot of suffering but she won't let that change her!! and yes she has some. Conflicting feelings about the pageants and the unhealthy sides of intense girlhood but she loves it very much regardless!!! she loves to dress up and wear makeup and she loves pink and glitter and just!! she is soft and girly and she's just unapologetic about it
#shes a damsel when things go wrong and that's okay!! thats good!! not everyone is a badass and not everyone is a fighter!!#when things go wrong she will generally fall into#not necessarily victimhood but she is not a hero#she can have moments of bravery and protective instinct especially when caspers involved but it's never violence#its crying and hugging and putting herself between him and danger like a shield and trying to diffuse the situation#im doing her pinterest and im just..... shes so important to me#caspian michaels: headcanons.
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(via @gh-0-stcup)
Buffy the Vampire Slayer: ↪ 3.15 "Consequences"
#oh these tags for real#she was so horrified and scared when she realized what she’d done#and obviously buffy was the only one to witness that and she was more focused on the guy dying right in front of her than she was faith’s#reaction#the guy grabbed buffy WHILE they were being attacked by vampires. faith moved on instinct and staked what she thought was a vamp trying to#kill them. as is her job. and obviously he wasn’t a vamp but she didn’t know that. and as soon as she did she was in shock#and then her getting rid of the evidence makes so much sense? she has never had people looking out for her. every single adult in her life#failed her. she has always had to look out for and protect herself. but her getting rid of the body doesn’t mean she thinks she didn’t do#anything wrong/bad. she was just scared and trying to protect herself. she is a traumatized teenage girl with NO adult support and she’s#got way more responsibility and pressure on her than quite possibly anyone else in universe besides buffy#and her lying to buffy and saying she doesn’t care is so obviously a lie!! buffy is trying so hard to be there for faith and talk to her.#but faith has her walls up so fucking high because she’s SCARED. and she is unable to be vulnerable with buffy who she views as the golden#child slayer because she doesn’t think buffy will understand. she doesn’t know about ted!! like faith accidentally murdered someone and#everyone around her flipped out and AGAIN let her down. i understand buffy believing the lie? like she’s also scared ans traumatized and she#doesn’t consider why faith would lie about it. she doesn’t understand the way faith sees her. so of course she’s gonna assume that her#trying to reach out and be there for/with faith and faith pushing her away is because faith doesn’t feel the way buffy is feeling#and WE as the audience know that faith is lying and that she cares so much about what she did.#just.. god. faith faith faith#faith lehane#btvs#btvs meta#angel#angel & faith
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pt.1
shoko has never seen satoru gojo; the strongest, look quite this weak. he’s sprawled across his office desk and the smell of vodka hits her so hard her eyes water.
“what are you doing?” she drawls, eyes flitting around the room as she tries to make sense of the man’s pathetic state.
“y/n?” he slurs and struggles to raise his head up.
shoko sighs.
“not quite.”
she drops her cigarette to the ground and crushes it with her heel as she walks over to him. he finally meets her eyes and she frowns. he looks… dead. the look reminds her of someone long ago… and for a brief moment she’s terrified of the sorcerer in front of her.
“what’s going on gojo?”
he shakes his head and mumbles incoherently, laying back down on his desk. shoko has to force herself to not roll her eyes and she clenches her teeth together.
“you think this is gonna help you?”
she picks up the nearly empty bottle of alcohol and smashes it on the ground.
“you’re fucking pathetic,” she spits, “get yourself up. you’re not… you’re not going to turn out like him no matter what. you’re gonna man up and fix whatever has caused this.”
satoru stares in drunken shock at the smashed bottle. he sighs.
“i can’t… i can’t fix it,” he mutters, “messed it up to bad.”
shoko sighs again.
“did something happen with, y/n?”
he sniffles at the sound of their name coming from shoko’s mouth and gulps.
”i had to protect them,” he whispers, staring emptily at the ground, “i’m dangerous. being around me is dangerous.”
shoko doesn’t know what to say, she watches him as he watches her.
“… you’ve never been the smartest, have you, satoru?”
he scoffs and swings his arm up wildly.
“you’re so mean to me,” he pouts, the momentum from his arm causes him to slide and stumble out of the chair and onto the floor. he groans and flops defeatedly around.
“you’re a mess. stay right here and try not to hurt yourself please.”
— —
satoru doesn’t know when he blacks out or how long he’s been asleep before he hears muffled voices outside the door. his head is pounding but he feels sober enough… unfortunately.
“i don’t know shoko… after what he did…”
“at the very least talk to him, it may give closure for both of you if nothing else.”
there’s silence. then the wooden door creaks open and he winces, flinching away from the light. your blurry form comes into vision. god you’re just as beautiful as the day he left.
“satoru,” you say.
your voice is like honey to his ear, so sweet and soothing. he lifts his head, his blue eyes shining. it’s been weeks but it’s felt like years. your hand comes done to touch his cheek and he shivers, his eyes almost rolling back at the feeling of your skin on his again.
“what’s going on?”
“i miss you,” he mumbles, nuzzling into your palm. you instinctively stroke your thumb along his cheek bone.
“you cheated on me. you… you left me.”
he shakes his head.
“no.”
you raise an eyebrow and cup his chin, forcing him to meet your eyes.
“what do you mean, no?”
“i could never cheat on you.”
the way he says never almost makes you swallow hard.
“you told me you did.”
”i… lied,” he admits, shame in his voice. you freeze.
“you what?”
he groans and pulls away from you, finally sitting up fully and facing you properly. he wants you in his arms so badly.
“i lied,” he sighs, “i thought it would be better… I thought i was protecting us both.”
he feels the sting of your slap before he can fully process what happened.
“that’s for fake cheating on me.”
he gapes at you, hand coming to his cheek.
“you hit me?!”
“you deserved it.”
“… you’re right.”
you sigh one last time before leaning in and kissing him. you still taste just like strawberries and mint, he thinks.
“and that is because i’m stupid enough to still love you after all this.”
#shoko may be ooc idk#allusion to geto maybe a little far fetched but I kinda like it#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#gojo#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#gojo angst#gojo fluff#satoru x y/n#satoru x you#satoru x reader#satoru angst#satoru fluff#jjk angst#jjk fluff#straight from the notebook! <3
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One major mistake people make when looking at Snow White is assuming that they were trying to create a Disney Princess role model for little girls to emulate, when actually they were just trying their darndest to create an animated character that audiences would care about.
When we see pure and innocent Snow White being mistreated by her stepmother and later driven into exile, it's supposed to activate parental instincts that make us want to protect her. It shouldn't matter if she doesn't do anything to save herself, because she shouldn't have to. We're supposed to feel the injustice of it, feel sad and angry that she's treated this way, fear that she's going to come to harm. We're not supposed to want to be her, we're supposed to love her, and want to see her get the love she deserves, so we remain invested for the entire runtime of this 80-minute cartoon that they're afraid audiences won't sit through. That's what mattered to the story while they were making it, so applying Disney Princess expectations is ridiculous.
#disney#snow white and the seven dwarfs#there's more to the rant but this was separate enough to jot down on its own#fairy tales#snow white
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Wrapped in warmth - LN4
*:・゚ Summary/request: by @misspygmypie "obv with lando and reader, she's always cold and he always makes sure she's warm (like wrapping her up in a thick jacket on a rainy race day). Maybe best friends with underlying unresolved feelings? My fav trope lol!"
*:・゚ Word count: 1566
୨ৎ
The cool wind swept across the paddock, carrying with it the scent of damp asphalt. It was race day, but the usual energy buzzing through the grandstands was slightly dampened by the persistent drizzle that had started in the early morning and hadn’t let up since. Grey clouds hung low in the sky, casting a muted, heavy atmosphere over the track.
-
Lando Norris pulled the hood of his McLaren jacket tighter around his face as he jogged through the garage, his eyes scanning the small crowd near the pit wall. His race engineer was calling him over to discuss some final strategy adjustments, but Lando’s attention was only half there. He was looking for her.
It was almost second nature now. Whenever he arrived at the track, the first thing on his mind—after the car, of course—was to find where she was. And today, in this cold, miserable weather, he knew she’d be huddled somewhere, trying her best to act like she wasn’t freezing. She always did. Stubborn as she was, she hated admitting she was cold, even when she clearly was.
Sure enough, there she was, standing near the edge of the garage. She had a team hat pulled low over her head, but it wasn’t doing much to shield her from the biting wind. She was dressed in a light jacket—nowhere near enough for this weather—and had her arms wrapped tightly around herself, pretending like she was fine.
Lando sighed softly. He had known her long enough to recognize when she was putting on a brave face. They had been friends for years, ever since that awkward first encounter in the paddock back when he was still in F2. She had been working as a journalist back then, tasked with interviewing young up-and-coming drivers. But what was supposed to be a quick five-minute interview had turned into an hour-long conversation full of laughter, teasing, and a connection neither of them had quite anticipated.
From that day on, they’d been nearly inseparable. She followed his career closely, attending as many races as she could, while he supported her in her work, always sneaking off to catch up with her during the busy race weekends. They were best friends—undeniably close, and yet, there was something more between them. Something unspoken, simmering just beneath the surface, but neither had dared to voice it. There was too much at stake, too much to lose if they acknowledged the feelings they both tried so hard to ignore.
Lando glanced at her again, noticing the way she subtly shivered, even as she stood chatting with a few mechanics. He grinned to himself, his protective instincts kicking in. She could act tough all she wanted, but he wasn’t going to let her freeze.
Without hesitation, he crossed the garage and approached her from behind. “You know, you’re terrible at pretending you’re not cold,” he teased, his voice soft and playful as he gently draped one of his thick McLaren jackets over her shoulders.
She jumped slightly, startled by his sudden appearance, but relaxed as soon as she realized it was him. “Lando, I’m fine,” she protested, though her fingers were already reaching up to pull the jacket tighter around her body.
“Sure you are,” he replied with a knowing smirk, ignoring her weak attempt to push it off. “It’s freezing out here, and you’re acting like we’re on a tropical beach. You could at least try to take care of yourself for once.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue further, clearly grateful for the warmth. “You’re such a worrier, you know that?”
“Only because you’re impossible,” he shot back, nudging her gently with his shoulder. “If I didn’t look after you, you’d probably turn into an icicle by now.”
Despite her efforts to appear unbothered, her heart fluttered at his words, a familiar warmth spreading through her chest that had nothing to do with the jacket he’d given her. Lando had always been like this—caring in the subtlest ways, looking out for her even when she didn’t ask for it. And she couldn’t deny how much she loved that about him, even if it made navigating her feelings for him that much harder.
“Besides,” he added with a sly grin, “I can’t have my best friend turning into a popsicle before the race. Who else is going to be there to cheer me on?”
Her stomach did that annoying flip it always seemed to do when he called her his best friend. It was a label she cherished but also hated at times like this, when his easy affection made it painfully clear that he probably saw her as nothing more than that.
“Always so selfless,” she joked, hoping her voice didn’t betray the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. “But thanks. I guess I’ll keep it—for now.”
He laughed softly, the sound bright even against the grey day. “Good. Now, come on, I’ve got to get through a strategy meeting, but after that, I’m dragging you somewhere warm until the race starts. No arguments.”
Her laugh echoed his, though her heart was still lodged somewhere in her throat. Moments like these—where his kindness felt like something more than just friendship—they were becoming harder to shake off. Every touch, every teasing comment, every concerned glance… it made her wonder if maybe, just maybe, he felt something more, too.
But then reality would set in. Lando was focused on his career, on being the best driver he could be. The last thing he needed was complications—especially not the kind that could ruin their friendship. And so, she kept her feelings tucked away, hidden behind easy smiles and sarcastic remarks, not wanting to risk what they already had.
-
As the race drew closer, the drizzle had turned into a steady downpour, and the paddock was buzzing with talk of potential rain strategies. Everyone was scrambling to adjust to the wet conditions, but despite the chaos, Lando’s mind was still on her. The image of her standing there, bundled up in his jacket, stuck with him. He couldn’t help it—making sure she was okay had always been a priority, even if he never openly admitted it.
Lando knew that his feelings for her had grown far beyond friendship. Somewhere along the line, between the races, the late-night texts, and the endless teasing, his heart had gotten involved. He had fallen for her, completely and utterly, but fear kept him from acting on it. What if she didn’t feel the same? What if he ruined everything by admitting it?
The thought scared him more than any race ever had.
And yet, there were moments—like today, when she looked at him with that mix of amusement and gratitude—where he swore she felt something too. It was in the way her gaze lingered just a little too long, or the way she unconsciously leaned into him when he was close. Maybe he was imagining it, or maybe he was just too afraid to see what was right in front of him.
-
By the time the race had ended, the rain had let up, but the cold lingered in the air. The stands were still packed with fans, despite the weather, and Lando had just finished celebrating a respectable finish. Exhausted but happy, he made his way back to the garage, peeling off his gloves as he went.
As soon as he spotted her waiting for him near the pit wall, bundled up in his oversized jacket, a sense of calm washed over him. She was talking to one of the mechanics, laughing about something, but her eyes lit up when she saw him approaching.
“Congrats,” she greeted him with a grin, her voice warm despite the cold. “You didn’t win, but hey, at least you didn’t crash in the rain, so that’s something.”
He chuckled, rolling his eyes playfully. “Always so supportive,” he teased, though he appreciated the way she could joke with him, even after a tough race.
“Someone’s got to keep your ego in check,” she shot back, the familiar banter flowing easily between them.
Lando was about to respond when he noticed the way her cheeks were still slightly flushed from the cold, despite the thick jacket she was wearing. Without thinking, he reached out, gently tugging the jacket higher on her shoulders, making sure she was as warm as possible.
“Thanks,” she murmured, her voice suddenly softer, as if the weight of the moment had settled between them.
Their eyes met, and for a brief second, the world around them faded away. It was just the two of them, standing in the fading light, rain still dripping off the roof of the garage. There was something unspoken in the air, something that had been building for years.
Neither of them moved, but the space between them felt charged with all the things they hadn’t said, all the emotions they had tried to bury.
“Lando, I—“ she started, but before she could finish, one of the engineers called him over, breaking the moment.
He shot her an apologetic look, but the tension between them lingered, the words unsaid hanging in the air.
“Later,” he promised, his voice low and sincere.
She nodded, watching him walk away, her heart heavy with the weight of everything they hadn’t said.
And just like that, the moment passed.
But the feelings didn’t. They never did.
୨ৎ
*:・゚ Notes; my first request! I hope you enjoyed it and that this was what you had in mind! If not let me know so I can change things! Enjoy it, love!
#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x female reader#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#formula 1#formula one x reader#formula one x you#ln4#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fluff#lando norris fic#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando x reader#lando norris#lando imagine#lando x you#lando x y/n#lando norizz#formula one#formula racing#f1 fluff#f1#f1 2024#request
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Clandestine
Pairing: NewJeans’ Danielle x Male Reader
Word Count: 6,000
A/N: Hello Orenjideul! This is probably the last fic I'll be writing and releasing this year because I'm getting occupied with my own endeavors. This is purely 97% a BFH fic because this Dani look is killing me.................. (god, that waist) Enjoy reading it! <3
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“Try and keep it secretive, please.”
Those words define what’s the goal—mouths shut, all within yourselves.
You’ve been living your life on the edge, playing with fire and Danielle is the gasoline that keeps igniting it and it piques you, delving for more. It’s scary, outrageous to the very least but in the greater perspective, it’s blissful and fun and that’s what matters at the end of the day.
Try, like what’s stated. It’s ultimately the goal and you’d revolve around that single word every damn time.
You have a reputation to protect, and it’s all in the means of Danielle because a single mistake can bear a scarring loss, because she has everything to lose and you’re to blame if it were to happen (the latter is speaking in hypothetical terms).
“Can’t wait, hm?” Your eyes gaze towards her, plastering a faint smile as you continue to pepper her neck with kisses that felt too euphoric on Danielle’s end.
“Ahh—how can I wait?” Her moans bless your ear, and you absolutely take that as an affirmative with her delight. She knows on herself that you’re insatiable and she hates it—temptation breaking as the both of you are speaking, and she’s feeling every ounce of your energy all over her skin.
Her hands roam around your body, feeling your kisses get herself acting up and writhing under your control. You turn, tilt her chin to face you and all you can see is a visage worth an awe. “You’re so goddamn pretty, Dani.”
These compliments just ignited the utter bliss she feels, lips curling into a smile of sincerity adding up to her impeccable beauty that no one can rival. You rest your nose onto her neck, then peppering it all over again as your hands handle her with care and the absolute ambition to let her know how much you adore her.
“You—you’re kissing me so, so good…” Danielle’s accent is candy to your ears, and you’re just replying with more intimacy. Her hands find the hem of your shirt, dexterous fingers lifting it as her primal instincts kick in until your hands hinders her advances.
Danielle whimpers, a hot breath brushing against your ear as you locked eyes onto hers. “Not yet, Dani.”
A visible pout by your sunshine, and immediately, you’re captivated but not enough to break the façade. “B-But why? Oh…”
Patience is what she needs, and as selfish as this sounds, your needs would be the priority for fulfillment.
Like what’s stated at the beginning you’ve been living at the edge with her and thankfully, there’s no instance enough to bear such a result that would crumble a reputation. It’s just not helping where you’d be damned to live if ever Hanni catches you with such mess with Danielle and it’s doubled down with Minji—you’d be gone for good, that’s for sure, but Danielle has this hold against them that wouldn’t let you go and stick this risky relationship that could bear a scarring demise.
But who cares about that now? Not when her figure is all for your eyes to drool upon, in full display with her pants and that shirt curled into a crop top unleashing something within you—she looks unreal, sculpted to perfection as the outfit accentuates her undying hotness, a gift for you to admire and lastly, savor.
Your hands roam around that tiny waist of hers, abs flexing with your enervating touch that earns faint, sultry moans escaping her lips. You caress it and she continues her vocalization, ceaseless with your aims of adoring every inch.
“God, this fit—” Your power was evident, pulling her towards you as she gasped with your domination, and then smiled as she anticipated. “—is insane. I never thought you could be any hotter.”
It’s true, factual even, because numerous people would agree to you on how hot she looks with these kinds of fits. It does help knowing how she’s cognizant to push your buttons, and with just the tip of the iceberg, you melt and those eyes of yours tell a story.
“I knew you’d love this.” Danielle’s expressions smoulders a little, her face contorting confidence as she knows how she’s your kryptonite, and it’s mutual—even if it’s ego-driven, you can’t deny the fact that she’s alluring and you love her confidence because she knows she’s fucking hot.
You’ve seen multiple cases on the Internet, ever-so-liked within the people in various social media platforms sharing Danielle’s impeccable figure and the raises alongside it. You’re glad you’re in the first row of her show, always hitting and selfish because it’s all for you eyes to see—only you. Her fragrant smell hypnotizes you and it’s effective, luring you in and investing in more efforts into worshiping her. Kisses, suckles and licks is her threshold, currently shivering with the pleasure you give her as her ragged moans are enough for a conclusion.
“God—please, stop…” You stop once she calls your name again, hoarse, feeling that she can’t possibly handle the way you’re treating her—you assume she’s more sensitive with you and nothing else. You’re visibly puzzled, lingering that assumption within you as you’re vocal enough to address her sudden words to feed off against her needs.
“Anything wrong, Dani?”
“I—” Her lips are quivering, hands fiddling the hem of her shirt as her doe eyes invite you to listen, and you're all ears for that. “—want this.”
You know where she’s going with this as her hands run down to your pants and near the vicinity of your nether regions and god, her fingers alone would make your beast stand up in vigor. Your hands hold hers, guiding her through the zipper as your other hand finds its way onto the valet of her curves, teasing the skin of her spine that’s enough to make her release a dulcet moan towards your lips. “How do you want it, hm?”
Your voice is alluring, predominantly teasing as the last hm signifies your interest. Danielle just moans with your repeated touches, and she’s barely coherent and mostly mumbling, what more if you're going a level further? “Can’t quite hear you, baby.”
You’re now pinning her against the wall, you weight pressing against her slightly as you eyes then face her and begged, “Just kiss me first, please.”
That please of hers was so lovely and sincere you can’t afford to lose this opportunity. You were surprised with Danielle’s initiative, cupping your cheeks as she pulled you in for a kiss and you quickly reciprocated. The sloppy sounds and the sultry moans escaping your lips signals the deprivation, and it’s all fulfilling every second that passes.
Her lips are soft and you won’t get exhausted kissing those all day, even if it means your own lips to be numb. It’s sweet and hers is torrid, the exchange heating up the permeated humidity she exuded just by herself and she’s just igniting it all throughout.
“Kissing me so good, Dani…”
“Can’t blame that you taste great.” Danielle spits the truth, her lips curling up on a smirk as she bites her lip, currently in this state of need and her face alone just lit the fire inside your heart. “Now I need this.”
She cups the apparent bulge, visibly poking onto the fabric of your pants as her daring advancements makes you utter a faint moan in which she chuckled, a victory in her possession.
“Getting too bold, are we?” It’s straightforward and lustful, and definitely, you like it.
You’re not going to introduce the necessities for foreplay and more, and with the lust growing inside you that’s matching hers, you’ll let her do what she’s great at and with a single command, reply with immediate compliance. “Drop down to your knees, baby.”
It felt like her knees faltered, dropping down with a thud onto the cold floor as her hands then found its way onto the edge of your pants, tugging them and licking her lips in anticipation. Now loosened up, she pulls them down and lets gravity do the work, making a puddle of your clothing onto your ankles. She’ll steal glances towards you while working her wonders, and the contradicting natures of the sight just below your waist sends you into overdrive—her gleeful yet seductive smile covers up to the sins that he’s about to do, and it’s aligning all too well.
“God, I’ve never done this for a while…” Danielle’s tone permeates that self-doubt since it’s factual, marking maybe months until she’d indulged herself into something like this and it doesn’t help with the group’s busy schedules and everything that’s making their time occupied prior to this.
You tilt her head, facing towards you as her eyes meet yours, and you reassure her. “You’re a natural, Dani—besides, just let yourself be what you are.”
Let herself be, and ultimately, she knows that it’s always what she is in situations like this. Letting the doubt aside and her hunger to take over, she impatiently yanked your boxers down, joining it onto the puddle of worthless clothing down to your ankles. Danielle’s eyes glimmer with that lingering captivation as soon as the beat inside you unshackles from its clothed prison, almost hitting her in the face as it stands tall and stiff, waiting for her touch to enchant it.
She coos, hot breath within that reddish crown and you moan because of it. “Still a-as monstrous as I remembered.”
The teases probably get into you (even though her tone laces with sincerity), uttering a laugh as her lips part, a pout on display, gently kissing the leaking slit and her hands roaming around your base and onto those balls she always loves to taste. Of course, the sunshine descends down into the darkest sins, carnally worshiping your cock with an eager suck to collect that liquid you’re leaking and the profound spit that she lathers all around your length. You doesn’t leave any inch untouched with her lips and sheathed with her saliva, as her attention averts down to your balls and plays with it, her hands pumping you with a leisure pace that’s enough to wring that pleasure you’re always seeking.
“Looking great so far?” Your legs are probably viable to give out, knees shuddering as her touch sends you into the abyss of gratification. She knows the answer to such a rhetorical question, living up with the compliment you withdrew earlier and it’s factual, she's naturally skilled. “You know the answer to that, Dani—fuck…”
She replies with her tongue now dancing around your throbbing cock, her snug mouth encapsulating half of your length as she eagerly bobbed, up and down, and no stopping. Your hand finds its way onto her messy bun, tied upright with a clip and you could just let yourself feel every ounce of pleasure being brought by Danielle.
It was hurried, ephemerally increasing the pace as her mouth gets messier, her own saliva seeping out of her mouth supports the fact. You kept moaning and it invigorates her for more, until she knows she;s approaching her limit.
She gagged and immediately pulled out, and your mouth just showered her with compliments and those eyes of her shine with your approval. “You’re incredibly gifted, god…”
“Can’t help it tastes really, really good, daddy.” The name, the word, god, she knows what buttons to push against you.
She always does, in most cases and you’re here to indulge with the fact that she’s controlling you slowly. You would give in to her dominant nature against your cock but here, you still stand and it’s contradicting—you’re nowhere near being precarious, and you’ll take that heavenly mouth of her anyday (like you would resist it).
She voiced out your insatiability, impaling her mouth with your own length and bobbed frantically, her immediate actions sending your sensitivity onto the roof and so is the pleasure. She treats your succulence like it’s her favorite popsicle, sucking onto every inch of it and savoring the flavor that’s probably inviting her more roughness and you could feel it.
“God, Dani—shit!” You’re unable to utter coherent sentences as you’re involuntarily shouting out the pleasure she brings, and you could look down and see that smile printed onto her lips, even with a mouthful of your length. You caress her cheeks, run your fingers through her dark-colored locks that’s messy enough to compliment the disarray of her doings.
Here it comes, those eyes of hers locking onto yours, so innocently-looking with the scintillations telling a story full of her wonders and with those very eyes of hers, you’re hypnotized. Her pace never falters, almost pumping her head and kissing your base everytime she buries her throat full of your length, and it almost makes your foundations meet its crumbling outcomes. Her gags are apparent, jerking her head onto you but she fights, because she wants to deliver the utmost pleasure you deserve and with that determination, you’re absolutely going to reward her.
The inevitable is bound to happen, as she ejects onto your saliva-sheathed length, strings of her drool connecting onto her lips and your tip, marking her shirt and soaking so little of it and she catches her breath, chest heaving with what she’d done. “G-God—oh, I—”
“Hey—you did fucking amazing, holy shit…” You’re vulgar and bold, and she doesn’t mind it because it’s mutual when you did your own oral expertise onto her—possibly no one heard her swear so much as ever before whenever you eat her out, and it’s a concealing fact that’s only exclusive between the both of you.
Her lips, swollen and pink, shiver with the sin she has done but she never regretted it, and instantly becomes gleeful once your praise is registered within her. “All for you, daddy.”
Of course it is, and she was giving her hundred percent with every second of this opportunity. There’s still a soft heart within you, consulting her as your eyebrows furrowed, subtly worried. “Are you okay, though?”
“Hah… yes, daddy—I just want more of this cock.” She’s a little exasperated from such an impressive act she’d done to you, and her smiles reassures you and with the eagerness of her livid strokes says a lot.
Danielle holds onto your rod with a vice grip, tight enough for more moans to escape your lips as her lips find its way onto your tip, lapping up the scrumptious taste that she’s addicted to. It was evident, utterly in need for you as she didn’t build up a pace slowly for yourself to get used to, and did the opposite. The pace counts for your release, and it’s evident with the way she’s doing everything in her power to inch you closer to her deserved reward. She takes more than half of you and fondled your balls, earning the sultriest and knee-shuddering moans that urges her for more.
You avert your eyes down, and she’s occupied with your cock, hammering her mouth with it and hollowing her cheeks whenever she feels wringing out the best gratification she can muster. She’s closing her eyes, feeling every inch of you until the back of her throat, gags following and you persistently throbbed in reply with that. She tames it and you admire it, fighting the urge to release her vice grip around your length.
Your eyes then drool all over her impeccable figure, even when she’s down onto her knees—the perfectly sculpted curves of her waist to her hips while her head fades onto the sight with a bobbing blur just ignites the thought of ruining her.
You're lost under her spell, and you wanted to see those beautiful eyes of hers, as she does what she’s best at. Lifting her chin up with your index finger, you gulp and give in to your desires. “Look at me when you're sucking me off, Dani.”
She obliges as she meets your gaze, your face contorting slightly with the pleasure as her ruined visage is enough to know how much she’s enjoying it.
It’s the same cacophonous sounds that deafens your ear with, the same music you won’t get tired of listening if it means to make Danielle feel the delight she always deserves—the concoction of slurps, gags and sloppy sounds are the things at the tip of the iceberg.
Her pace increases, and now, your hands find her hair again as an outlet against the ultimate pleasure she brings, drilling into her mouth deeper without your awareness, balls slapping against her chin due to her breakneck pace. You would want to prolong the dopamine rush within your veins, but the curtain calls out to a painful denouement tha would conclude the first part of an exquisite show she’s laid upon between your legs.
The throbs are persistent, and she doesn’t have a plan to pull out and you have your own desires that’s ready to be fulfilled.
“I’m close—c-can’t hold it anymore—” You gulp right after, breaths uneven as the both of you are just savoring every second, eyes closed and yearning for more. You assess every pump her mouth does, how tight and pleasurable it is and you can’t absolutely hold it anymore until something disturbed the force of things.
A loud pop is what you’ve heard, and you can just see Danielle stroking your messy length with the fastest velocity her wrists can muster, and it just earned more moans from you. “I’ve always wanted to do this, daddy…”
You know where this is going, lips curling up a smirk and pretending to be oblivious. “Do what, exactly?”
You can feel the familiar tingle within your groin, and it’s only a matter of seconds before the inevitable paints her white. “Add up to the mess I made myself, daddy.”
“Open wide, Dani.” She does as she's told to, releasing the grip that almost strangled your length and did it yourself.
That sullied countenance of hers is a sight to cherish, savor every second and every detail on how messy and beautiful she has become as everything concludes down to the most important act.
You groan and point it where it belongs, a pretty canvas painted white as every inch is possibly covered with how thick your load is. Every spurt hits the features where everyone leaves with an awe, living up to the words she let go of and you did just that. Nose, cheeks, forehead, mouth and even her neck—it’s incredibly lucky how none of your load got up to her clothing, possibly writing the script of just ruining what’s just worth defiling.
If these walls could just talk, you hope they wouldn’t say anything because you will be damned if anyone catches the both of you doing such unforgiving sin.
Her lips quiver, still kneeling down as she grips your stiff cock, stroking it leisurely and then inviting you with a gleeful smile that possibly refutes the sinful sight, faking the convincing innocence.
Those eyes of her pleads, and there her dulcet voice goes and you know you can’t turn her requests down. “May I clean your cock, daddy?”
You cup her cheek, maintaining that eye contact as your fingers trace the cum you left onto her, and then directing it onto those soft, kissable lips of hers that’s known for an abundance of talents. It was agonizing with the way you trace her features, and she suckles onto your fingers needily like she hasn't sucked the life out of you just a minute ago. She closes her eyes, relishing and humming in satisfaction with the taste she’s longing to lay her taste buds on.
You pulled out and earned a whine, and then replied with a jovial approach. “No one’s stopping you.”
No one is, and not even herself.
Her lips parts against your engorged tip, tongue swirling around it and tidying up the mess she made. It’s sensitive and it’s the guilty pleasure—it’s slightly making you turn on even more, pushing your limits and as well as the buttons for your lust.
“You’re fucking gifted, Dani.”
It’s these small admirations of her actions that urges her to complacency, but giving everything that she got up her sleeve. Her mouth swirls around and it and eventually, she pulls out and stares at you, reeking that anticipation that lingering within her because she knows you’re not done with her.
Once she pulls out, she remains on her knees, and you take the opportunity to scoop out the cum that stained her heavenly-sinful face, directing it onto her mouth and cleans it repeatedly. It’s nearly cleaned up, but nowhere near the finish line as the both of you are just getting started, and you’re vocalizing your frustrations evidently yet nowhere near hostile.
“Get up, Dani.” She obliges with your command, your feet kicking the clothing and deeming it useful and the sunshine that gleams innocence brews a storm, and you know she’s ready for phase two.
“Dying to be balls deep inside me, daddy?” Of course you fucking are, and she’s just asking that to rile you up and it’s effective, cock twitching up in the air as soon as she let go of such sinful words.
She knows you, and it’s just making things worse in the right ways.
Danielle’s face is just inches away from you, and you’re just dying to get that feeling of her utter tightness. You grew impatient, controlling her lithe frame with a grab on her waist, and let herself face the wall and her arms resting on it as well. She gasps with your roughness towards her, chuckling a little as she wants this kind of treatment and she deserves it. A wiggle of her petite ass invites you to just undress her bottom half, but you would admire the hourglass figure she possesses, every inch of her curves urging you to defile the living life out of her.
You deeply adore her with all your heart, unable to hurt her but whenever she invites you to be one, you wouldn’t waste the opportunity and give in to your carnal desires.
Your hands roam to her clothed butt, feeling the softness of it and how it’s perfectly sculpted and all too right. Unable to deprive yourself of such a sight, you wrap your arms around her hips, undressing her pants and unshackling her heating slit and there it goes, all for you to feast upon.
“You promised to be rough, right, daddy?” She looks over her shoulder, tone laced with high expectations as a moans follows, feeling the cold air brush against her skin.
“If that’s what you wanted—” The restraint is now onto her ankles, then off to somewhere in the vicinity. Your eyes meeting the last bit that conceals your grand prize, but it didn’t come without a reverberating sound that earned the sexiest moans Danielle could muster. “—I’m not thinking a single thought of giving you mercy.”
Fuck, she unleashed the monster within you, and it’s all for her to take.
It wasn’t just one, but a barrage of slaps onto her petite ass, making her writhe a little and her arms shaking with the pain and pleasure you’re treating her. You mark it red, imprinted with your hands before stopping and she whines, knowing the best is yet to be introduced.
It was another moan that escaped her lips, and with the last bit of defense down and destined to be useless, you know she’s up for a show.
“Da—oh god, daddy!” Danielle whimpers once she feels you, going deeper and earning more moans that made her body shudder with the gratification. You plunge not too deep inside her, and immediately, you are met with an overwhelming tightness that puts you in the same boat as hers in correlation with the profanities you both voice out. You grab her hips and her waist, drawing herself closer to you as she’s barely standing on her ground with your control, and you’re just within the tip of the iceberg in terms of your pace.
You give herself a breathing space, but Danielle’s plans weren't in accordance with yours, her voice coarse yet still, surprisingly sweet that urges you for more.
“More, daddy—f-fuck me harder!” Your hips increase your velocity, the initial speed of it sending her thighs in a recoil with your harshness, drilling deeper and withdrawing repeatedly that’s enough to fuck her up, senseless. Somehow, she’s even coherent to articulate words, urging you for more and yearning for you to go deeper.
“Fuck—oh my fucking god, more—aw!”
“God, you’re just so tight, aren’t you, hm?” You’re pumping her like you’re marking up your dominance against her, and it’s fulfilled, now filling her up to the brim. You marvel with her unparalleled tightness, hugging your length like it’s suffocating it and repeatedly groaning because of it. With her repetitive pleas, comes resonating spanks that just makes her leak more of that nectar, creating that wetness that runs down in rivulets on her thighs. She’s creating puddles down onto the floor due to your own rough endeavors into her pussy, legs shaking and rippling in every thrust you do that sends her into overdrive.
You’d bet she’s seeing stars right now, the reason is stated as follows: withdrawing with just the crown inside and then slamming back into her, balls deep, just right for her to delve down onto lustful, high-pitched screams that voices the overwhelming pleasure running down her veins.
This is not great, and with a harsh spank, you retort at her and make sure she’s unable to do it again. “Quiet down, Dani—you’re gonna get us in trouble.”
If it’s ever the case, then the both of you probably are. The suspicious noises are just enough for someone outside to check out what’s with the pandemonium of noises that’s just getting too familiar. You didn’t care, to the very least, continuously pounding her tight cunt and dismissing the fact about the risky unveiling of the truth.
Danielles muffled her screams with a bite on her shirt, shutting herself up and that alone makes you ignite the carnal beast within you, testing how much she can bear.
Her legs are possibly wobbling, getting weaker with how rough you are treating her as every clash of your bodies results in an addition to the symphony of moans, an ocean worth swimming in if it means your ears to get blessed.
You surely are, and you’re at the top of the world because of it.
“God—this pussy—” You groan, spanking her and then lean on to kiss her neck, your tongue nibbling onto the pristine, milky skin as your weight gives her reasons to be dangerously precarious. “—is just phenomenal. This will always be mine.”
You marked up your territory, and Danielle knows who owns her heat, and it’s up for you to ignite it. The kiss was ephemeral, hurting her because she wanted to feel your lips longer against her neck but she’s just grateful that you’re still ruining and impaling her up to the hilt with your length. Your hands run its way back to her hips, and immediately continue with a consistent pace that inches her closer to her own high.
With the way she’s leaking like a faucet around your rapid length, you know it wouldn’t be long until she reaches euphoria.
“C-Close, daddy—so fucking close—you’re fucking m-me so, so good!” Danielle’s clearly enjoying this, and with her compliments comes your own fulfilling reply. You kept fucking her cunt like it’s going to be your last, every thrusts your hips muster clashes against her skin that accentuates roughness.
“Please d-don’t stop fucking me—please, please!” She’s lost in the blissful trance, lust and desperation taking over as gone is her innocent image, truly in the depth and unable to go back up. You did what she pleaded as her juices coats your length in all angles, even adding up onto the puddle onto the floor and wetting down her thighs. Her knees shake, arms flailing with the impact her orgasm brings her, but you didn’t stop and fucked her through it, being in the same boat as hers—lost in the trance.
Her walls clench around you and it earns that primal roar out of you, her tightness aiding to the pleasure you’re also experiencing. You’re just cognizant with the fact that her expression probably concludes into the epitome of ecstasy, and all-throughout cockdrunked with your own reckoning. Wanting another angle to savor how her walls feel, you pull out of her and she immediately whines, asking why would you do such a thing.
“No, d-daddy—no, please, put it b-bcack in—”
“I will.” You grab her wrists and her hips, turning her around to face you and given her small figure, it wasn’t a challenge to control her. “I just wanna see your beautiful face while I ruin you again—make you cum again.”
With your strength, you squat down to inch your arms under her thighs, and immediately lifted her like it’s nothing, and with her swift recovery, her senses became aware and directed your throbbing cock inside her tightness again. She yelps and involuntarily holds onto your arms and neck, supporting her frame and continues to stare at your eyes, glistening with lust.
Her back is pressed against the wall as you thrust upwards, not even starting off slow and introducing a harsh pace, like what she wanted all along. “God, I could fuck you like this all day, Dani—god, you’re hot.”
With the way her abs flex in every thrust you do steals your attention towards it. Maybe her workouts at the gym are worth something more than what she always loves to do, and you admire how toned and perfect it is in every angle. Her supple frame and her flexible legs makes it easier to drill deeper into her cunt, uttering the sultriest and hottest moans by Danielle. With this profound angle, you’re in total domination all over her, controlling her as she gives in to you, trusting you on how you’ll ruin her with care.
“God, daddy—you’re fucking me way too good!” It’s just the deepest primal instincts within her that’s commending the way you’re treating her, and you love every word laced within it. You continue to hammer her upwards, feeling her tightness enveloping you again as her hands find a leverage to hold on but are unsuccessful knowing it’s just a wall behind her.
Your lips then smashes against hers, wanting to increase the libido within you as the clash is something lingering with need and hunger. Both of your lips add up to the erotic soundtrack that’s composed out of spite, filling and permeating the room with the sounds of sex and nothing more.
You’re not going to lie, the shirt that accentuated her figure is just the perfect example of a nuisance, and Danielle hurriedly undresses it, revealing those perky tits with a white bra clasped around it. She’s just too hot to bear, and a perfect candidate to be ruined and you’re proving why she lives up to that position. She threw the shirt onto the bed beside, and continued to rest her arms onto your shoulders, then resumed her moans as it became erratic once you suckled onto her neck, inhaling the scent that you always love.
“I can’t believe h-how much of slut you are for my cock, honestly.” Even if she retaliates for a reason, she can’t deny the truth as your length turns her into a new person, consumed with lust and following you like a leash. She can’t utter a response, not when she’s being pounded into oblivion and another high inching closer towards her.
“I can’t daddy—too good! Too good!!” Her exclamations are the voices of her lustful nature, she’s possibly built just to say the same sets of words once you’ve plunged everything inside her. The cluster of the same moans and pleas escapes her lips, and you know she’s set for another blissful climax and it’s all thanks to you.
Maybe the walls weren’t so opaque to shackle what’s behind, unveiling the secretive assault towards Danielle and you didn’t care—you’re chasing towards the promised land, to set foot there and get lost within that hill.
“Gonna cum, da—” She’s cut, and then, she releases.
Nectar seeps out to the edge of the crevices, forming rivulets and spasms that’s felt in her body, magnitudes unlocking new heights of delight as you fuck her through it, knowing your hopping onto the same boat as hers.
All things are destined to an end, and you want a conclusion worthy to paint something remarkable for the both of you.
“Outside, p-please—cum for me, daddy—” You’re still carrying her while the pleas register within you, burying your shaft and immobilizing your thrusts while coursing your way towards the bed. You throw her, not enough to hurt her but enough to hear an audible thud as you pull out, and eyeing her figure with such hunger that fueled you for another release.
“I’m gonna fucking paint that tight waist of yours, Dani.” You stroke your cock with a breakneck pace, an identical event like earlier as she invites you, her tone crumbling down your walls and building up another reward you’re eager to give.
“Then paint it, daddy—ruin me.” It’s simple yet so hot that you can’t fathom how she’s able to choose words that could fuck up the way you’re thinking. She’s embracing the eventual rain of another hot load, closing her eyes and you could count to five and not make it past three—
Then, it comes.
You aim towards her slim waist, showering the abs with numerous spurts that can rival your first one, multiple shots earning moans from your lips due to how euphoric she made you. You lick your lips, hands wringing out the pleasure and prolonging and eventually, it subsides down for you to admire the fruits of your labor—a work specifically painted meticulously, done and worked on a canvas that’s sprayed white.
Her chest heaves up and down due to the exasperating session and roughness you bestowed, but looking into her eyes, there’s no glint of regret and just grateful you’re able to show who you really are.
“God, you fucked me so well, daddy…”
Your breaths are ragged, your cock getting flaccid as Danielle still has the power to stand on her wobbly legs, your cum running down her porcelain skin and her hands finding its way onto your beast, still urging for something more.
“All for—argh—you, Dani—all for you, god…” The sensitivity skyrockets, but it doesn’t matter, not when you’re finding her lips again, exchanging torrid and intimate kisses.
As you’re about to find your way onto the fine plane of her spine, and towards her ass, a heavy set of knocks baffles the both of you, and it’s fucked up
“Dani, why are you taking so long right there? Hello, are you there with him? What are the both of you doing??” It’s a familiar voice and your senses are heightened, and with an anxious look, Danielle reassures you and shouted words that would possibly assure the girl that everything’s fine.
“Hanni’s gonna kill me, Dani—”
“Shhh…” Her fingers meet your lips, muting you for more advances that won’t help the situation. You help her clean up with the tissue that’s on her desk and hurriedly dress yourselves up, looking presentable as much as possible. “It’s fine—nothing’s going the wrong way, daddy.”
You’re living your life on the edge, and you would be damned for dear life if Hanni unveils the truth yet Danielle’s golden personality outshines that and it’s only a matter of time before she puts those onto the test.
You can end up on both roads of besmirchment, that expected disappointment from Hanni or a surprising turn of acceptance but one thing’s for sure: you achieved what the both of you wanted, and that concludes up onto a triumphant note, all wins and no losses.
#newjeans smut#newjeans x male reader#danielle smut#newjeans danielle smut#danielle x male reader#newjeans danielle x male reader
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Hii, can you please do agathario where y/n sacrifices herself to stay with rio at the end?
Kiss Of Death
Pairing: Agatha harness x Rio vidal x reader
Warnings: Angst, character death
The wind blew heavily around you as you watched your two lovers fight. Agatha was covered in cuts as Rio stalked closer. It was awful and violent. You were powerless as you watched the two. Afraid of stepping in and potentially hurting one of them although you knew you couldn’t physically hurt Rio. You hated all of this. You wished things could go back to the way they used to be.
When Billy decided to step in you listened as your love said it had to be one of them. Agatha had quickly told Rio to take her and you stepped in quickly.
“No! Take me. Please” The three of them looked at you in shock. Rio takes a step forward but Agatha is quick to pull you behind her.
“Don’t touch her!” Rio tilted her head at Agatha’s words. You were surprised by her words. Agatha hated you so why was she protecting you?
“Agatha-” You started but was cut off.
“No! She won’t take you” Rio stood watching as Agatha glared at her with so much hatred. It made her instinctively take a step back trying to avoid the harsh gaze that she hated so much.
“Agatha look at me” You demanded as you grabbed her face and turned her to look at you. Her eyes held unshed tears as she tried to keep herself together. She couldn’t lose you. She wouldn’t lose you.
“She took him. She can’t take you to” she whispers and she holds onto your waist tightly scared that if she let go you would disappear. She’s spent all this time hating you. For not trying harder to protect Nicky. She blamed you when really it was no one's fault. He was always supposed to die. And she realized that now. But you, you weren’t meant to die yet. It wasn’t your time.
“I love you. I have and always will love you. But you need to let me go with Rio.” Agatha’s grip on you tightened.
“I love you too. Please stay.” Your hands on her cheek began wiping her tears as they fell. Rio watched the interaction in silence. She wasn’t necessarily a fan of one of you dying but it meant that you would be with her for eternity. That you would never leave her and that’s all she has ever wanted.
You tilted your head towards Agatha and closed your eyes as your lips met. She pulled you flush against her as she tried to memorize the feeling of your lips on her. Of your warmth. Of the feeling of you pressed against her. While she was distracted you let your magic seep into her, freezing her legs so that she couldn’t move. Slowly you pulled away and looked into her eyes as she realized what you did.
“I love you. I'm sorry.” You whisper as you slip out of her arms and towards where Rio is standing. When you get to her your hands settle on her face like you did with Agatha only her hands come up to hold your wrists.
“Nena” She whispers as she melts into your touch. It had been so long. So long since she’s felt either of you. Agatha yells and curses at Rio from her where she is frozen and Rio looks up at her. Her eyes fill with sorrow as she tries to move away from you.
“Rio my love. Look at me” you plea and her gaze is immediately back onto you. “You're going to take me. I’ll be yours. But you will leave Agatha and the teen alone. You will not take them until it is their time.”
Rio’s small nod is all the conformation you need and you quickly press your lips against her. Kissing her like your life depends on it as her magic begins to kill you. But none of that mattered. She knew she was killing you and while she wanted to pull away. Wanted to demand that you aren’t going to die. She found herself not being able to. Either by your magic or that selfish part of her wanting you forever she didn’t know.
#rio vidal marvel#rio vidal x female reader#rio vidal x fem reader#rio vidal#rio vidal x reader#agatha x rio#agatha harkness x rio vidal#agatha harkness x reader#agatha harkness x you#agatha harkness x female reader#rio vidal x y/n#rio vidal x agatha harkness#rio vidal x you#agathario#agathario x reader
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Spoilers for act 2
Isha is Jinx's inner child just as Warrick is Vi's inner monster and their mutual destruction is actually a pivotal event so they can both evolve as individuals, in this essay I will--
*start yapping*
No, I mean it, the hyper fixation kicked in and it kicked me hard. This is just about Vi's perspective in ep.5 btw but in my defense, she looks so tired
In the first arc, Vi starts to separate Powder from Jinx as a way of coping, she feels guilty about the destruction Jix caused and, as we know, Vi would never intentionally hurt her sister so the only way for her to try and stop her is to separate the two.
She can't kill her sister but she can kill Jinx (at least she thinks she can)
In ep.5 we see her spiraling into self-destruction, her entire character thus far has been taking care of others and now she has no one, and as such she doesn't think she has value simply as an individual.
Vi cannot accept change, that's her biggest flaw, she can't accept her sister's change or the change in the underground, and she begs Cait not to change in arc one. She somewhat recreated what her life in prison must've been like (she has a tiny apartment where she keeps herself enclosed, she's fighting on a daily basis, she's angry) so Vi's seeking familiarity in whatever she can find.
Now, she wakes up to Jinx in her little "protected" new reality, and her first instinct is to attack. She chokes Jinx (not her sister) and tells her off when she tells her about Vander, but THEN what happens?
Jinx starts to cry, and for a millisecond the illusion of Powder X Jinx is broken and Vi lets go of her, allowing her to say that "Vander is alive" and that "He needs OUR help".
Just like that, Vi's forced to face the possibility of change, she's not trusting that any of this is actually real and not one of Jix's "delusions" but it doesn't matter, the chance that someone NEEDS her help is enough for her to finally look at her own reflection on the mirror she broke in anger and denial, she has a choice to stay in the illusion or to take a risk.
Now, Vi follows her out and sees the mural. Not only does the mural depict Jinx (the person Vi is convincing herself killed her sister) as a hero but it also has Vander in it.
Jinx became Silco's daughter, the man who killed Vander and tore their family apart but for Zaun, she's also Vander's legacy of revolution. Vi is having to face that both things can be true at the same time.
They walk the tunnels and they start bickering, throwing things at each other's face and it's clear she's trying to avoid thinking too hard about what Jix is telling her.
Vi drops her gauntlets to make a point she doesn't need them, but her gauntlets are a physical symbol of her own emotional barriers, she takes them out when she's comfortable enough to let her guard down.
In this scenario, she's using her anger as a shield against Jinx, and anger is a safe emotion so she assumes there's not much risk, she doesn't expect Jinx to hit her, and when she does she hits back.
The thing is, that fight does not seem serious, they're not actually trying to hurt the other but rather just trying to prove their own points.
Now, Isha is serving as Jinx's inner child here and, as one would expect, she jumps in to help. But Vi's not expecting that and (as she does) she reacts.
She hits Isha (the embodiment of Powder) while fighting Jinx, she didn't mean to hurt the kid just like she never meant to her her sister all those years ago, but by fighting with Jinx (the sister she cannot accept) she does.
That's a visual representation of her inner turmoil, there's Jinx and there's Powder and she cannot see them as one, but she can't fight one without hurting the other, where one goes the other follows, they are one and the same.
Jinx goes to comfort Isha, and THAT'S when she puts her gauntlets back on, that's when she builds her defenses again, she can't allow herself to humanize Jinx or else she'll have to admit she's her sister and that she's changed.
Then we have Singed talking about Warrick (not Vander) something like:
"The beast was once a man victim of a great tragedy, but he had an incredible will to live, tolerance to pain, and was very resilient but it got lost in the bowels of the beast" - Yeah, sounds familiar?
We see in Warrick's pov, and he remembers wiping Powder's tears the same way Vi wiped Caits but Vi is blurred, her memory is still lost to him just like she's lost to herself
They find an office that belonged to Vander and Silco, and Violet takes one of her gauntlets off after she enters but keeps the other, her defenses are faltering but she's not willing to lower them yet.
They find a letter from Vander apologizing for what he did after the riot (the thing that broke them apart and later on separated Vi and Jinx)
Warrick came back to where Vander's apology to Silco was never read, he's roaming a familiar place with no purpose, desperately trying to find something he doesn't even know what means anymore.
And what guides him to the sisters is Isha's blood, the blood that was shed when Vi struck her in her fight with Jinx.
Jinx says everything might have been different if Silco had found the letter, and that same thought could apply to them.
If Marcus hadn't taken Vi away before she could come back to her sister, if Jinx had known what happened, if they had talked sooner after reuniting
Vi's defenses are crumbling here, they're both thinking the same thing and for a moment Jinx and Powder are the same, she almost comforts her with her uncovered hand, Jinx is being vulnerable, but Vi hesitates to trust her, so instead of reaching for her she reaches for the gauntlet again, putting her defenses up.
They leave back to the tunnels when Warrick finally catches on, and Vi sees this "beast" running towards them
It doesn't matter Jinx is telling her it's Vander, because Vi is still not trusting her, all she can see is Warrick and he himself is not stopping either, he can't recognize his daughters.
The only person who trusts the beast is Jinx, but she's not the person who can stop him at this moment, Vi is, and she does. Just like she has always done she gets in the way to protect the people she cares about.
Now, now, something very interesting about how this show deals with details is that Warrick was following the scent of Isha's blood so when he jumps to attack the camera focuses on the two.
As I commented, these two characters are being used to show Jinx and Vi's inner turmoil, and the fact Vi's inner monster (Warrick) is specifically aiming to hurt Jinx's inner child (Isha) is very telling.
But what is even more telling is that Vi is the one to stop him from hurting her, and by extension, she's protecting Jinx.
Just like before we see that Vi cannot attack Jinx without hurting Powder here we see that she can't protect Powder without protecting Jinx as well.
And THAT'S when we have the Jinx X Powder separation cracking
She says he's going to kill YOU, she's not worried about herself here, and the way she tries to protect them is to fight.
Vi always tries to fight her problem away by either violence or avoidance and now is no difference, she tries to fight him but here she's metaphorically fighting her own anger, the same anger that hurt her family and herself
The problem is that you can't fight fire with fire in these situations. Anger will not beat anger, punching will not stop the fight it will only make it worse.
They fight and he throws her against a wall before turning to focus on Isha but Jinx gets in the way and for a moment he recognizes Powder again
Jinx has been trying to protect Isha while making them stop and she tries again, but this time Vi is willing to hear her out,
She doesn't see Vander inside Warrick yet, and as this ginormous thing is barreling towards her she makes a decision, and for the first time, she trusts Jinx again, lowers her gauntlets and stops fighting. Vi's accepting the beast
There's a sequence where the image goes from Vi to Warrick repeatedly and they have similar expressions but then her eyes change and she calls for her father again.
Everything goes dark then, and we see Jinx completely terrified holding a lighter and looking for them. She doesn't know what she's going to find, she doesn't know if she was right in blindly believing Vander was still there.
The lights were bright during the fight but now everything is dark, and the dark is often used as a space of uncertainty and vulnerability Jinx couldn't save her sister from the beast and all she could do was try to guide her into saving herself.
Violet tried everything she knew, she tried fighting Jinx but in the process, she hurt the child, she tried avoiding the connection with her sister and by extension avoiding the family history but Warrick caught up with them again nonetheless, and when he did she tried to fight him off but the beast can't be killed by the same violence that created it.
In the end, it was the act of trusting Jinx that brought Vander back, Vi hugged him with the same gauntlets she used to hurt Warrick, she recognizes Jinx is also his daughter and by doing so she opens a door to seeing her as her sister again, even Isha got pulled into the hug.
Important to add that I do see Vander and Isha as more than just inner versions of Vi and Jinx but this show makes so many connections that everyone is everyone's inner something at one point tbh
Also, wdym both Cait and Jinx go to Stillwater and yet there was not ONE little detail of them thinking about Vi while my girl is literally hallucinating and only thinking about them? ONE MENTION
#am I making a lot of sense? probably not#but that's me processing things#but also I still feel like vi is being glossed over way too much#tumblr has not let me add more screenshots and that was a good thing because I'd have yapped a lot more#also yes I do have this ep's side from Jinx's pov but that's for later#arcane#arcane league of legends#arcane s2 spoilers#arcane spoilers#vi arcane
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RAAAAA I LOVE YOUR STORIES SM!!!! Anyway, be sure to take breaks and get much sleep. <3
Okay so on to the request, Reader and Sylus having their lil date night at a fancy restaurant. Reader gets up and she excuses herself to the bathroom. After a while, while sylus is waiting and waiting.. Reader never got back to the table. Sylus got up to look for her. He finds her eventually but! There was a group of guys surrounding her. Reader was in distress while trying to be polite to the group of guys. (She can fight them if she wants. But it's 1 vs 5 she didn't want to take the risk)
(this one is on you, either Reader sees sylus and goes to him and hides behind him and they both leave OR protective Sylus mode on. Go wild)
Anyway PLEASE AND THANK YOU 🙏
sylus protecting you
Sylus had gone all out for the evening, treating you to an extravagant dinner at a high-end restaurant, where crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead and soft classical music played in the background.
He'd been watching you intently, every movement, every smile-captivated by your joy as you two laughed, shared bites and basked in each other's company.
At one point, you excused yourself to the restroom, assuring him you'd be right back.
But minutes ticked by and the faintest hint of worry flashed across Sylus's eyes. He gave it a moment longer but then feeling something was off, he decided to go check on you.
As he moved through the corridor leading to the restrooms, his gaze darkened as he saw a group of five men surrounding you, blocking your way back. You were politely trying to defuse the situation, a slight tremor in your voice as you asked them to let you pass.
"Gentlemen" Sylus's voice cut through the air, calm, almost deceptively so. "I believe she asked you to step aside."
Relief flooded your face as you darted toward him, instinctively hiding behind him as you clutched his arm. Sylus glanced down at you with a reassuring smile, then turned his gaze back to the men, his face now a mask of deadly calm.
"Go back inside, kitten” he murmured, though his tone held an unyielding edge.
"You don't need to be here for this."
You shook your head, stubbornly refusing to leave. "I'm not leaving you alone with them" you insisted, voice wavering slightly but resolute.
Sylus chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent a chill through the air. "Stubborn as ever." He gave you a quick nod, as if to say, fine, but don't say I didn't warn you. Then, his entire demeanor shifted as he turned his full attention to the men, his eyes now burning with a dangerous intensity.
"You picked the wrong person to harass tonight” Sylus said, his tone cold as ice.
Without waiting for a response, he closed the distance between him and the nearest man, striking him so swiftly that the man staggered back, clutching his face.
"What's wrong?" Sylus taunted, voice dripping with cruelty as he caught the man by the collar, slamming him against the wall.
"You thought you'd pick on someone innocent? Let's see how brave you are now."
One of the others lunged at him, but Sylus sidestepped with ease, delivering a brutal punch to the man's stomach before grabbing his arm and twisting it with a sickening crack. The man crumpled to the floor, writhing in pain. "Stay down or I'll make it worse” Sylus growled, his voice deadly calm.
The remaining three men exchanged glances, but Sylus gave them no time to react. With ruthless efficiency, he knocked one down with a swift kick, then grabbed the next by his shirt, whispering, "If you so much as look at her again, I'll make you regret it."
In a final move, he threw the last man back against the wall, his gaze a merciless glint as he stood over him. "Let this be a lesson” he spat. "She's mine and you're nothing more than a pathetic waste of space."
You watched in a mix of awe and shock, seeing Sylus unleash a side of himself you rarely saw. He straightened, brushing off his suit as if nothing had happened, before turning to you, his expression instantly softening as he took your hand. "Come on, kitten” he murmured, his voice back to its usual gentle tone. "Let's get back to dinner."
As he led you away, you couldn't help but lean into him, heart pounding, your respect for him growing deeper than ever.
#love and deepspace#lnds sylus#love and deepspace sylus#l&ds sylus#lads sylus#sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x you
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MAE BODYGUARD JAMES IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA OML
maybe one where the reader burns herself (totally not projecting) but you did say Halloween stuff so many bodyguard James take reader Halloween costume shopping? I'm thinking she goes in smt skimpy and we get protective jamie?
anyways i hadnt thought any of that out I came running when you said bodyguard so hope that strikes some inspiration and thank you so much!!
Thank you for your request lovely!!
cw: alcohol mention
bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 462 words
“You are not making my job any easier, babe.” James glares at a Jack Sparrow getting too close to you. The guy changes course.
You laugh. “What, I’m keeping things interesting for you! I thought you were getting bored.”
James had said that. You can hunker down better than anyone he knows, even Remus, and he was getting worried about how much time you spent at home. If he knew you to be anything less than the sweetheart you are, he’d almost suspect you made your Halloween plans specifically to force him to eat his words.
The downtown is pandemonium. Colorful costumes and drunken revelers and a cacophony of musics pouring out from different doorways. It’s chaotic enough that James half expects to spot Sirius somewhere in the crowd, dragging a begrudging Remus into a nightclub. People get bolder with masks and booze, and you—whether they know who you are or not—make a perfect target.
You’re dressed like an angel from the devil’s fantasies, white lingerie and lacy thigh-highs and a cute pair of wings strapped to your back. It should take all the virtue out of the look, but there’s still an aura of sweetness about you, captured in the apples of your cheeks and the cute, curious way you look at the scene around you. James calls you angel more often than his supervisor would likely approve of, and tonight everyone can see how well it suits.
“I think there’s probably a middle ground,” says James, taking your elbow to tug you gently away from a clown stumbling into your path, “between spending all day in your room and this.”
You turn towards him. James’ hand moves to the small of your back instinctively, bringing you closer to him and away from the crowd. Your white makeup shimmers, making your eyes look big and sparkly as you gaze up at him.
“We can go home if you want to,” you say in a quiet, private voice. “I don’t want to stress you out.”
James looks at you. Elysian and hopeful, your cheap halo listing to one side. A girl like you deserves to be flirted with. James knows he’s a massive cockblock (and he’s not going to pretend to feel bad about that), but he can follow you wherever you want to go and buy you drinks and turn threatening looks on anyone who comes too close to you if it means you’ll have a good time.
He straightens your halo for you. “Where do you want to go first?”
You beam. “Really?”
“Really.” James gives your shoulder a fond squeeze, and with his other hand halts a cowboy who’s trying to come up to you. The guy holds up his hands, backing off. “But you’ll have to stay close.”
#bodyguard!james potter#james potter au#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#james potter x self insert#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter imagine#james potter scenario#james potter drabble#james potter blurb#james potter one shot#james potter oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders x reader
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Earth 42!Miles x reader
Summary: Reader grows suspicious of Miles, and eventually puts all the clues together. He’s the prowler. And she’s avoiding him. Ignoring his texts, calls, anything else. So finally, he confronts her.
Warnings: None really? Cursing, some kissing here and there, pretty fluffy. Nothing too bad (though if I make a part two I can’t say the same.) Not proofread at all- part.2 here
The text simply read, “Really Y/N?”
Her brows raised, confusion finding her expression at her boyfriends text. For the past few months Miles has been very suspicious. Leaving with his uncle to go gods knows where in this broken down city. “What is he talking about..?” She muttered to herself as she stared at the grey bubble. Her thumbs hovered over the screen as thoughts jumbled together in her mind. Did he know? Did he know that she found out?
She shut the phone off, setting it down on the balcony’s thin railing. Her eyes fell upon the dim city, the neon purple and green colliding together in a fierce blend of colors. She always reminisced about how the city was before crime took over. It was normal, you were able to walk the streets without being snatched or robbed. Maybe even killed depending how far into the city you go. A sigh aired from her lips, her head hanging down as she leaned against the railing. Her arms kept her propped up, allowing her to take a step back so that she had room to rest her head onto her forearms. “So you just gonna leave me on seen mami?” She jolted, her head shooting up and taking a peek over her shoulder. Behind her on the fire escape was miles, his relaxed demeanor coming as no surprise. His bulky coat, jeans, and Nike airs drawing a small smile to her face.
“Sorry Miles..got a bit distracted. Thinking.” She chuckled under her breath, attempting to break the ice. Miles approached, now leaning against the railing beside her with a hardly noticeable smirk. “So, you’re just gonna pretend you don’t know? Y/N.” His gaze hardened, his eyes now boring into the side of her head. This caused her to close her eyes, a sharp inhale coming from her. “That’s all I can do, ain’t it?” She paused, taking a moment before turning around, now propping her elbows onto the railing. She rested her back against the rusted metal, her shoulders relaxing as her eyes met his. “Miles, I know you’re doing what you think is right..I’m not gonna tell you off or anything. I just- fuck I wish you just told me. You buy me all these things, and earn all this money, and I knew..I knew it wasn’t from anything good. But you being the..” Her voice caught in her throat, her lips pursing together into a thin line as she struggled to speak the name. Miles took notice of this almost immediately. His smirk was gone, now flat teetering on the edge of a frown. His pretty hazel eyes raked up and down her figure before returning to her gaze. He held it, his stare unnerving. “Being the what ma?” He inquired, his brows furrowing ever so slightly. This ticked her off, his attempt to bluff, or change the topic. Or whatever the hell he wanted to call it. She scoffed, her hands raised in defense as she stood from the comfort of the railing. “Are you being serious Miles? You’re just gonna pretend like I don’t know what im talking about? I saw the suit. And you’re always leaving with your uncle to wherever the hell y’all go. Fuck- if you’re just gonna sit here and glare at me then go somewhere.”
“Y/N, chill.” He said. No, commanded, and Y/N did not like that. “The fuck you mean chill? Miles, how are we gonna be in a relationship and you’re just gonna lie to me the entire time? Psh, you can have this back.” She reached behind her neck, pulling the necklace with their initials off and tossing it at him. He caught it almost instinctively, the silver necklace now resting in his palm. He sighed, his hand coming up to rest on his braids. “Cmon mami, don’t be like this. I was only trying to protect you. Don’t you get that man?” He stepped closer, his hand coming to take a hold of hers. He laced his fingers with hers, his pretty eyes focusing in on her. “Why would I tell you something that could get you killed? escúcheme mami.” He let go of her hand, now holding the necklace up and wrapping it around her neck. “I would never want to hurt you, you know this. I didn’t want to tell you that for that reason.” He clipped the necklace together, the shiny metal now resting around her neck. “You know I wouldn’t want you to get hurt, right ma?” She blinked, her stomach swirling with that familiar feeling. Butterflies, this man always gave her butterflies. “Right..I’m sorry I just..-“ He cut in, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. “You’re talking too much ma.” He says before placing a pleasant kiss onto her lips. It’s gentle, patient, and forgiving. It almost has her knees buckling. Her arms wrap around his neck, his hand now finding sanction on her hips. Their lips lingered for a moment, the silence being broken by the honking and chattering of the crime ridden city. And while the city was a complete hell, Miles made everything so worth it. And it was the same for him. Her and his mother kept him going. Slowly they parted, though their noses were now nuzzling against one another as they rested in one another’s arms. “M’proud of you baby..you work so hard for us.” She muttered, which only drew a hum from him.
The two were so immersed in one another that they hadn’t taken notice of Aaron standing at the bottom of the fire escape. His lips curved into a smirk as he watched the two coddle one another. “Yo Miles, Cmon man. You can see your girl later. We got stuff to do.” He shouted up to them, drawing the two from their entanglement. Miles retreated from her arms, a small smile decorating his purple tinted face, the city lights making him look oh so good. “I’ll see you later ma, Ight? And go check on my mom for me yeah? Thanks.” He said as he began to climb down the stairwell. “Te amo mami.” He shouted from the distance. “Love you too baby!” She shouted back gleefully while waving him and Aaron goodbye. And just as you thought he was about to leave, Miles popped back up, strolling over and placing his hand under her chin.
He grasped it lightly, his lips finding hers once more. Yet, this kiss was much more intense. He bit and nipped at her lips, all whilst he watched her face contort, melting into his kiss. The kiss lingered, as did his lips as he pulled away. His pretty hazel eyes took in her flushed out face, his lips curling into a smirk. “Imma send you some money later mami, so you can get your nails done in that color I like. Kay?” He said before finally, he departed. He hopped back down and joined Aaron.
Y/N stood there, her face hot and her body even hotter as she pondered on his words. She knew exactly what he wanted. With one last sigh she retreated back into the open window behind her, her dimly lit bedroom greeting her. Tonight she would go to sleep with a clear conscience, no longer needing to worry about Miles and his secret escapades.
#x reader#Spider-Man#spider man across the spider verse#miles morales#miles morales prowler#prowler#earth 42#fluff#Miles morales x reader#earth 42 Miles morales x reader
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Fall(ing for You) – S.C
Pairing: sam carpenter x soft goth!reader
Summary: Sam is certain that Tara's new quiet friend may turn out to be Ghostface, unfortunately – or not –, that friend is you.
or, it takes the help of tara and a dog for sam to finally come to her senses.
Word count: 6,0k.
Content: scream 6 but without the killing, r's 23, cursing, wingman tara ft. yr dog, jokes abt r being ghostface, fluff, pining, sam falling first AND harder, silly movie references.
Note: hey guys, It's been a while since I've written for scream but I rewatched it recently and finally got some inspiration again! I describe the reader a little more in this but it won't really affect anything if you choose to ignore it.
English is not my first language.
Tara made a new friend.
Sam still isn't sure exactly, but the only plausible explanation for the way Tara has been acting lately is that her sister met someone interesting enough to keep her attention so that she gave everyone a break from her tantrums and reckless behavior since their new start outside of Woodsboro.
Now, that could be a good thing, it had been months since the kids started college and they were all doing relatively well. Mindy had Anika, Chad had Ethan and also there was Quinn, even though she wasn't very close to anyone. Tara should have someone too.
The problem is that Sam has no idea who this person is. Tara just won't tell her.
You see, Sam understands that she might have been a little too protective of her sister and that this made Tara's behavior become defensive towards her. Her new therapist – after she got rid of that quack – is helping her work through that, okay? But curiosity and worry were eating away at her insides. The curfews, the tasers and pepper sprays, and especially the ID checks were all important to keep them safe, dammit! Mindy and Chad had no problem with it, and it was only after all the appropriate measures were in place that Sam could breathe and let these new people be a part of their lives. Not knowing this so-called friend, let alone who they were, was driving her to the brink of a breakdown.
She was trying to give her some space, probing with subtle questions here and there and the most she got was an eye roll and ‘It’s just a sophomore I met at the film club, haven't you said I should try to be part of something that didn’t involve frat parties?’
Well, at least it wasn’t a boyfriend, given the lack of dreamy sighs, giggles into the phone and late-night escapades. That was good. They already had enough problems to deal with and a new relationship so quickly was the same as asking for a ghostface to go for them again and Sam hadn’t been back in Tara’s life long enough to know how to deal with this part of being a big sister yet.
Sam had understood that she wouldn’t meet this mysterious person for a while, at least until her sister’s tantrum had passed, and between two shitty jobs and trying to keep a structured life being responsible for a bunch of teenagers in the big city, she couldn’t find it in herself to insist on the subject any further and get the risk of causing a fight. She thought it would be forgotten.
Now just imagine Sam's surprise when she came home one night after a long, exhausting shift, expecting to eat the leftover pizza she had hidden in the fridge and fall into a deep sleep, only to be knocked over by an noisy and strange dog with a piece of pizza in its mouth as soon as she opened the apartment door. Her pizza.
“Koda!” Someone called. Someone unfamiliar. It wasn’t just the dog, there was a stranger in her house.
Sam’s hand instinctively moves to reach for the taser hidden in her jacket when a pair of black-clad legs show up in her vision. Does Ghostface work with dogs now? She wonders in confusion for a moment, and has given up on the voice changer?
The only thing stopping her from tasing this potential killer in front of her is the pure bewilderment and Tara’s laughter filling the room.
“Oh my god,” the figure bends down, picking up the dog who turns out to be a very excited puppy, the pizza falling from its mouth and onto her shirt, getting it all over her, “I’m so sorry.”
It’s a girl, a face she’s never seen before, looking completely mortified.
“Hey, Sam,” Tara stops beside her, a barely hidden tone of satisfaction in her voice, “This is my friend. I thought you’d like to meet her.”
It's safe to say that Sam didn't like Tara's new friend at all.
“You didn’t think about telling me you were bringing someone?” Sam exclaimed, rubbing her temples wearily, “Especially that Lydia Deetz project right there? I almost shocked her in the middle of the hallway!”
Quinn shifted from where she was leaning against the counter in the small impromptu meeting and didn’t bother to hold back her laugh, “Nah, I think Tara would fit that role better.”
“Quinn,” Sam groaned exasperatedly.
“If I had told you you would have said no,” Tara shrugged.
“Yes! Because we don’t know her!”
It was quite awkward sitting on the couch in their living room less than five feet away from the kitchen and being able to hear every word spoken as if you weren't right there, with your messy dog happily chewing on the sock on your ankle.
This wasn't the turn you expected your night to take when you decided to accept Tara's sudden invitation for a movie night, visiting her off-campus for the first time since you became friends.
You met her at the start of the school year, the day she showed up for a film club meeting before anyone else arrived, well, anyone except you. She seemed completely lost and suspicious, even though she was clearly struggling not to show it, which made you like her right away.
Getting attention and starting conversations was never really your thing, this whole club thing wasn't either, honestly, but you ended up being one of the last older members to join with most of the others having recently graduated and the responsibility of looking after the new freshmans gradually fell on you. Most of the time you kept to yourself, preferring the behind-the-scenes side of things to participating in the long-winded debates of high school teens obsessed with slashers and making Stab parodies, but you noticed the way Tara seemed desperate for any sense of normalcy beneath her laid-back facade and the whispers of murder that haunted her.
You took what seemed like a rabid kitten under your wing and ended up cornered by the personification of a Doberman because of it. Talk about doing good deeds and stepping out of your comfort zone. What a joke.
Tara’s older sister, Sam, if you got it right, stared at you with narrowed, suspicious eyes – just like Tara when you first approached her – towering over your figure that tried to look smaller than it actually was on the couch, as if she was trying to learn every little hidden detail about you.
“So…” you began hesitantly, wanting to break the awkward silence that had ensued, “you have such a beautiful house.”
“Aren’t you too old to hangout with a freshmen?" Sam cut in coldly, one eyebrow perfectly arched in distrust.
You sighed, this conversation sure started off very well, “I’m 23,” you cleared your throat, “Tara’s in the same club as me, and I’ve just been helping her with some classes I used to take when I first started here.”
You hear Tara’s distinct chuckle, clearly amused by your frustration, which doesn’t help your situation much. What a wonderful friend, indeed.
Sam hummed with fake indifference and the other two housemates watched the exchange intently, eyes darting between you like they were at a tennis match, amused by the sight of Sam trying to intimidate the poor unsuspecting twit that you were.
A great friend, for sure. Ugh, this is why you don’t sponsor obviously troubled kids.
It’s not like Sam Carpenter is really intimidating or scaring you out the way she seems to want to, she has bags under her eyes and a greasy pizza stain on her shirt and you’re a grown woman, for God’s sake! It’s just that it was extremely embarrassing to cause a scene like that, especially with someone who you really wanted to make a good first impression.
Interacting so much socially lately was becoming relatively exhausting and you expected it wouldn't become a thing, as you were feeling a bit overwhelmed by everything. You hoped this would be the last big meeting you had for a while. Tara had told you a lot about her sister, mainly about how it was a pain in the ass to always have someone hovering over her, but it was something you never took seriously because of the way she sounded when she talked about it, too loving for someone who hated the situation so much. No, Sam was important and Tara had insisted that you meet her after doing the same with the twins just a few days ago. You had carefully planned how it would happen, what clothes you would wear and what you would say and now your chance to make things right was ruined, the words seeming to have escaped you in a flash. You were reserved, quiet, small in the midst of so much hustle and bustle, used to watching everything go by from the safety of the shadows. Being a mouse was easy.
“Is that all you have to say?”
Less easy when caged with a lion.
“Look,” you tried again, silently squirming as your pup start sniffing Sam’s combat boots furiously as you stood to pick him up, “I really didn’t want to cause any trouble or misunderstanding, Tara called me earlier while I was walking this little guy and insisted it would be okay if I came over for a movie. I can leave now if you want to, I’m really sorry for… well, all of this.”
You noticed Sam's expression became conflicted, as if she didn't know exactly what to make of you standing in the middle of her living room without showing any threat and wasn't used to people actually listening to her on sight. Still, she wasn't going to give up that easily.
“Great,” Sam nodded, her voice sounding less firm, “go then.” She pointed directly at your dog, now sitting at her feet with its fluffy head tilted to the side in a guiltily innocent manner, “And make sure to take that pizza thief with you.”
(You swear he looked personally offended.)
“What? No!” Tara seemed to realize that her little game could backfire and came out from behind the counter in your defense.
“Tara—”
“Come on, Sam, it's movie night!” She stomped her foot loudly, “I refused the invite to Jason's party for that, we were marathoning all the Texas Chainsaw Massacres!”
You don’t even have to be good at reading people to know that Sam had lost that fight the moment Tara looked at her with pleading eyes, knowing that there was no way to blame her for simply doing what she asked.
That didn’t stop Sam from rolling her eyes and huffing in irritation.
“Fine,” she practically growled, shifting her attention back to you, “But I’m gonna keep an eye on you, so you better not act all smart and keep that fleabag away from me.”
“His name’s Koda.” You pointed out, before softening, “And thank you, I promise I’m not gonna—”
“Shush.”
Sam was sure this was all part of an act of yours, just the first step to infiltrate their lives and pull the rug out like others have done before, because no one in their right mind would sit quietly next to someone who nearly shocked and threatened them in many ways just a few minutes ago.
Especially if that someone is burning holes in your head with their eyes, like she's doing now.
Sam watches shamelessly and intrigued, shooting daggers at your figure as you lean back with Tara babbling enthusiastically between you, your puppy completely knocked out on her lap, oblivious to the sounds of death and fake blood spurting from the TV. She notices the way you effectively ignore her, responding to Tara’s remarks with genuine interest, even if your voice doesn’t match her enthusiasm.
You remained quiet beyond those moments and the tiredness along with your lack of sudden movements made Sam feel secure enough to leave the room and finally take a shower – because along with everything she never saw much fun in these movies like Tara –, warning you that it was better for everyone to finish the night when the movie ended.
(She also forced Quinn to take her place on the couch and promise to scream if anything happened. You didn't comment on that either.)
Sam only falls asleep when she hears the sounds of goodbyes coming from the living room and the door house being closed, finally relaxing after all the interaction, deciding that it was enough. You could have been at her house, but that doesn't mean she would let you come over again.
You come back, because of course Tara doesn’t give a damn about Sam’s warnings about being careful around strangers – incessantly claiming that you’re not a stranger – and there you are at the next game night that Chad insisted on making a tradition.
At least there’s no sign of the shirt-destroying furball this time and there are pizzas smelling good on the kitchen counter.
“‘Sup, Sam!” Chad greeted loudly as she walked through the door, waving excitedly from the couch, “We’re playin’ uno!”
Her eyes landed on you, who waved at her with a small, tight smile, awkwardly sandwiched between Anika and Ethan, the way you stood out among them so comical that Sam suppressed a snort. She decided to join in without much protest, someone responsible still had to watch you, after all.
Sam wouldn’t admit to anyone, absolutely anyone, that she was enjoying the evening, listening to the heated exchanges as everyone got competitive. Strangely, she noticed that you didn’t try to engage much in the conversation, just like the other night, seeming happy to just be there. She thought you had been withdrawn then because of her behavior towards you, but maybe you were just shy.
That made her raise an eyebrow, Tara didn’t usually embrace introverts. Actually, she had always been pretty popular even before Sam left, if she remembered correctly, so this was new. She felt a small piece of curiosity spark inside her instead of more mistrust as she expected and it disconcerted her.
“The whole point of the 7 card is that you're not supposed to talk, man!” Mindy throwing chips at Ethan interrupted Sam's flow of thoughts.
“This rule is stupid! The manual doesn't even mention it, read it for yourself!” Ethan shuffled the cards wildly – everyone at the table had seen his hand – pointing, “And you’re talking too!”
“Whatever! Nobody reads the fuckin manual to play uno, Ethan!”
Tara groaned, “Guys, just shut up and everybody buys a card.”
“But that’s not how you play!”
She decided to abandon the game and all the fuss in favor of getting some air and a slice of pizza and was surprised to find that her favorite was still untouched, which was a miracle in such a crowded house.
“Tara said that you liked this flavor,” your voice coming from nearby startled her and Sam saw you gesture to the box in front of her, “My treat, for the other day.”
She cleared her throat hesitantly, “You didn’t have to.”
“I did,” you dismissed with a wider smile, “My dog left you without dinner.”
Sam didn’t respond, but you leaned against the counter next to her anyway, picking at the dark polish on your nails casually, listening to your friends arguing in the background.
“Get tired of the crowd?” Sam asked, deciding that ignoring you wasn’t an option since you clearly weren’t leaving.
“Yeah,” you agreed, shrugging with an odd laugh, “I guess I’ve had enough socializing for one day.”
Sam wasn’t sure why she didn’t just send you away then, seizing the perfect chance to dismiss you like she’d wanted all along and avail everyone's presence to remind that you weren’t welcome, but that strange spark flared in her and made her smile unconsciously, more sincere than the previous tense ones.
“Oh, I know what you mean,” she agreed slowly.
Your expression brightens in surprise, as if you expected a cold, blunt rejection or maybe a slap (probably both) and Sam feels a bit guilty by it. Sighing, she waves you towards the apartment’s tiny balcony, silently inviting you to join her, to which you respond with a firm nod as you watch her unwind the chain on the sliding door – they keep everything locked up tight now – and follow her.
Sam swears she’s not doing this to be nice or anything, all she wants is to repay you for your politeness, that’s all.
The night breeze is refreshing and sends pleasant shivers down your arms and shoulders as Sam leans against the railing and the two of you fall silent. It’s pleasant, actually.
Sam takes a moment to look at you, like, really look at you for the first time since you met and her breath hitches.
Your relaxed features look cheerful and are well-emphasized by the makeup you’re wearing – she tries to search her memory and gets frustrated when she can’t remember if it’s the same style as the night you met – your hair blows a little in the wind and your clothes just fit. Every single thing about you seems to have been specially made to be this way, charming, beautiful.
Your elbow brushes hers in the small space as you lean in to better contemplate the dreary, empty New York sky and Sam’s skin is burning and she doesn’t understand why.
Sam didn’t realize, through all the haze of anger and suspicion and tantrum, until she was touching a pretty girl, that you were, in fact, a pretty girl.
Shit.
“You’re trying so hard not to like her that I’m getting embarrassed for you.”
It’s late. Everyone has already left, including you, who went early claiming you had to work the next morning. Tara should be in bed by now, but she’d be upset if Sam told her to do that, so she doesn’t say anything.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam dismisses, packing up the last of the leftover pizza to put in the fridge.
“But you do,” Tara hums smugly, stifling a yawn, “Just admit that you were wrong and that I’ve made a friend who’s not a potential serial killer. And that you might have a crush on her. I saw you two on the balcony.”
“It wasn’t like that,” she grumbles, “And I wasn’t wrong for being worried that you brought home a stranger without telling me, even if she’s not dangerous.”
“Ha!” Tara points out, “So you admit she’s no danger.”
Sam sighs tiredly, bringing a hand up to massage her temple, “She can keep coming over for movie nights or whatever if that’s what you're asking me.”
Tara cheered, jumping up from where she was sitting on the counter to finally go to sleep. She stopped just before turning the corner to her room.
“Seriously though,” she caught Sam’s attention, “You guys have more in common then you might think, that’s why I like her. I think you could too, if you get to know her better.”
“That’s impossible, Tar,” Sam says weary, looking at her sister with the most done expression, “I don’t ‘get to know’ anyone, I already have all the people I need in my life.”
“Maybe you’ll be surprised,” she shrugged, “It would be good for you anyway.”
Sam's approval was all Tara needed to make you a regular fixture in their lives and make movie nights an official thing. Sam usually walks in when they're in full swing, with the two of you deep in conversation about the completely random movie you decided to watch that day, and now she greets you back instead of ignoring like she did before and you look happier every time she does it openly.
She finds excuses to wander around the living room and kitchen when she hears Tara pause the tv for whatever reason, just so she doesn't leave you unsupervised in their house – it was still too early to rule out all the care, after all. It ends up making her feel kind of ridiculous, because, hell, she shouldn't have to make excuses to wander around her own house! But you guys talk during these moments, sometimes.
Sam learns more about you as time goes on, and she tells herself that it's just gathering information, that you're not friends at all, but she finds herself soaking up every bit of detail. What are you majoring in, how long have you been in town, if you live close to campus like most students or if you have roommates like them.
(Actually, when she thinks about it now, Sam probably sounded more like a maniac trying to find out where you live, but at least you didn’t call her out on it.)
Then movie nights are joined by study sessions that Tara insists on having as her first week of finals approaches, and you manage to convince Sam to let you bring your puppy too so he won’t be alone for so many hours and she can act a little more normal around you and have a conversation that doesn’t sound like a job interview. You tell her about the movies you like – which consist of more than just an extensive list of slashers like she initially assumed – in a loud and excited tone instead of your usual repressed one, and it stirs something inside her, which leads to several other facts. Your favorite color, what kind of music you like, what you do when her sister isn't dragging you somewhere, and why you decided to adopt a dog so young when you already had so many other responsibilities.
“He helps me not feel alone,” you replied, looking deep into her eyes, “my roommate graduated last year and moved out. I guess I couldn’t stand coming home to empty houses, you know? And he’s my guard dog, he takes care of me and I take care of him. The little guy might be small but knows how to do damage.”
She could relate to that, in part.
And then you start asking too, suddenly and Sam finds herself with a dilemma after so long avoiding your attempts to get to know her. She’d rather remain closed off.
But a trade isn’t a fair trade unless she gives you something back, is it? And you’ve been quenching her thirst for knowledge for a long time now, you gave her a lot.
So, during one night when you insist on helping her make dinner, she confides in you – somewhat reluctantly – that she really enjoys cooking, especially healthier meals. She doesn't look at you, nor does she say it clearly but still, you listen and Sam is surprised when she finds herself speaking.
“You really should ask her out.”
And of course, Tara is always close enough to raise an eyebrow with a knowing look at her on practically every occasion.
“I've told you already, it's not like that.”
“You're cuddling her dog right now.”
“Just so he stays quiet and doesn't disturb you two! Shouldn't you be studying, by the way?”
“Ugh, you’re so annoying.”
Sam can almost, almost admit that you're her friend too.
(Though she kinda wished it were a little more than that.)
Movie nights evolve into sleepovers, because Sam argues that it’s simply too late and dangerous for you to come back alone and she feels embarrassed – and guilty as much – when Quinn brings up that it has always been dangerous and she didn’t mind letting you go before, when she didn’t care about you.
Now there are some of your clothes in a drawer Tara set aside for you just like a colorful food bowl in the living room for your dog – Mindy jokes that it's theirs now – and there’s rarely a day that goes by where she doesn’t see you.
And when you don’t come over, Tara makes sure to remind her of how anxious she looks waiting for a knock on the door and how she lights up when you greet her first when you finally arrive.
“I swear that now she comes here more to see you than me.”
“You’re imagining things.”
“Yeah, sure,” she huffs, “And when are you gonna make a move again?”
“Never, Tara.”
Sam hasn't heard a thing about you in days. Tara said yesterday that you ended up getting really busy with a college project, preparing a presentation that, her sister quotes, 'needs to be perfect because public speaking is horrible and there's a big chance I'll embarrass myself.'
It's not that Sam asked, it's just that she doesn't text you often and Tara thought it would be convenient to talk about it out loud when she was on the phone with Mindy.
Anyway, it doesn't really matter, it's not like you two are close. You are Tara's friend. If it weren't for her, you two wouldn't even have a reason to see each other. There's no reason to be so stressed.
But she misses you anyway. She's having a shitty day at her shitty job and everything seems to go by even slower because Sam knows that when she gets home at night you probably won't be on the couch waiting with the soft smile she's grown accustomed to looking forward and if she has to deal with another group of rude teenagers she'll freak out.
The sound of the bell ringing at the entrance draws Sam’s attention back to the counter and she ends up face to face with the person who has been on her mind all day.
“Sam!” you approached with a tired smile, your dog wagging his tail happily on a leash in one hand and a paper bag in the other, “I was looking for you.”
You'd never visited her at work before, she didn't even know you knew where it was, having only mentioned it in passing, but there you were, with the smile she wanted to see and bags under your eyes.
“Hi,” she cleared her throat, feeling her face heat up. Damn, she looked like a teen girl with a crush, “I didn't expect to see you here, what, uhm, what do you need?”
You snorted at her flustered attending voice. Seeing her show any kind of nervousness was very unusual.
“Tara called me today demanding I get out of the house for a bit and ‘touch some grass’, so I decided to bring this buddy along, he was begging me for a proper walk,” you shrugged, “And she asked me to bring your lunch.”
Sam paused at that, Tara definitely didn't make lunches for her, much less go to the trouble of delivering them like that.
“...Thank you,” she accepted the paper bag you held out delicately, eyeing the package suspiciously. You held back a giggle when she looked at you again, “Anything else?”
“Oh, um,” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, obviously nervous, “I’m taking Koda to the park nearby and I thought maybe you’d like to come with us. If you can, of course.”
Sam couldn’t really, it was still a few hours before her shift ended at the coffee shop, but she didn’t want you to leave without the promise of seeing you again.
“Of course,” she found herself replying instead, “I can meet you there in a few minutes.”
She knew she’d made the right decision when you gifted her with one of your warm smiles.
“Okay! Nice,” you nod, absently twirling your dog’s leash around your fingers, startled by the sudden, loud bark he lets out at the delay, breaking the oblivious bubble you were in, “Alright, I should go before he starts trying to jump over the counter.”
Sam barely hears the sound of the bell announcing your departure over how loudly her heart pounds in her ears.
It takes a lot of willpower and her last pack of good cigarettes to convince her insufferable coworker — who’d watched the whole thing with a bored expression and loudly chewing gum while cleaning the coffee machine — to cover the rest of her shift. He ended up ordering her lunch too, thinking it might be something special, only to complain when he was met with a sad peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a carton of warm apple juice. Tara really didn’t cook… but then why had she done that?
(She laughed at him anyway.)
“You owe me, Carpenter,” he grumbled, taping a note to her arm that had fallen out of the package.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”
Sam was out the door before he could change his mind.
Taking a deep breath of the damp autumn air, she picked up the yellow post-it note curiously, recognizing her sister’s handwriting immediately.
‘u looked so depressed lately that I
decided to send u a gift
DO something this time
good luck!!’
She knew. She fucking knew that smartass had set her up. Sam should have guessed it before. Tara would never let her get away with this without doing something with her own hands. At least she hadn’t brought Mindy into the scheme this time.
The park you had mentioned was more like a small square and with the rainy cold weather of the last few days, it was pretty empty. Sam could spot you without difficulty, sitting on one of the few benches watching the scenery and she made her presence known when she got close enough.
“Can he even sit still sometimes?” Sam asked, hands in her bomber jacket pockets, pointing with her chin at the dog playing alone on the grass. You moved a little so she could sit next to you and subtly moved closer when she did.
“It rained last night and he's a big fan of puddles,” you chuckled, “I guess he's just excited, we haven't been out much lately.”
He wasn't the puppy he'd been when Sam had first seen him a few months ago and the sight of him running around the trees chasing flowers and stray twigs was actually quite funny.
“He's so covered in mud that it looks like a bear.”
“Well, his name's Koda,” you pointed out amusedly, “I would have called him Pongo but he always looked more like a small bear than a dalmatian anyway.”
She snorted, “If you say so.”
Sam couldn't remember a time when she felt so relaxed, with the weight of your shoulder resting against hers, enjoying the weather of the early season, the ground covered in orange and yellow leaves framing your surroundings.
She couldn't stop the restlessness she felt inside her chest, watching your profile. Feeling warm inside, but also shivering with a terrible fear of ruining everything. Do something, do something, do something echoing like a mantra in her head.
Sam took a deep breath. She'd faced murderers before, for God's sake! She could be braver than that.
"So..." She coughed, "Tara set this up, you know? The lunch stuff and everything."
You turned your attention to Sam, raising an eyebrow with a confused look.
"She did?" You asked, "Why would she do that?"
It's now or never, Carpenter. Focus.
“She did it so I could see you,” she looked away, “Because I missed you. Because I…” She felt your hand reach for hers and noticed a fallen leaf on your shoulder.
“Because you…?” your voice echoed anxious. She could do this. She's going to do this.
“I—”
A loud howl scared the two of you and you turned to see Koda behind a pile of leaves, pupils dilated and jumping up and down.
“Oh no.”
“What?” She stammered.
“He saw a pigeon.”
You see, Sam is not a pet person. She has only had one guinea pig her entire life and only before her father left and a 6-year-old Tara let it escape from its cage never to be seen again – poor Darwin would always be remembered – she does not know how to handle dogs, much less big, excitable ones like yours.
Yet she grabs the leash from your hands when you finally reach your dog who won't stop barking at a tree and ignores your warnings that he is heavy and strong, Sam, it will end up dragging you away and tries to gently pull him to convince him to let go so you can get out of there. Because she is big and strong and she wants to show you that she can handle a mere happy dog.
He acknowledges her like she wanted and also drags her like you said he would.
This manages to surprise her more than the first stab wound she took, how one minute she’s standing still, telling your silly dog to walk in a confident condescending tone, and the next she’s running at full speed through the trees and puddles of the park, your worried voice ringing behind her, as does your laughter.
“Sam!” you exclaimed from a distance, hands cupped around your mouth and dark red scarf falling from your neck, “You need to stop!”
She does stop, yes, but only after your dog has already circled her and Sam must be a ridiculous sight with a colorful leash wrapped around her legs and a dog panting with its tongue out next to her.
“Oh my god,” you lean in closer, unable to hide the amusement in your voice, “Are you okay?”
Sam huffed, feeling a strand of hair fall across her face: “A little help would be appreciated.”
“Sure,” you laughed, reaching out to carefully untangle it, “Maybe I should call him Pongo after all.”
She rolled her eyes: “Don’t mock me.”
“I’m not mocking you, it’s just cute.”
Sam opened her mouth to retort, only to realize how close you two were, with your hands resting on her shoulders to steady her and your faces just inches apart, your breath tickling her skin. You seemed to realize the same thing, tongue coming out to wet your lips, your gaze fixed on her mouth.
Do something. Do something. Do something.
She finally does something. She kisses you.
It's all a mix of sensations, she feels when you sigh, breathing through your nose in surprise and satisfaction, she feels where your hands tighten on the fabric of her jacket and tastes you, warm lips contrasting with the cold skin of your cheeks, with traces of coffee, lipstick and something else so undeniably you that Sam swears her heart might stop.
You pull apart hesitantly, breathing fast, noses touching, eyes shining, and she feels herself falling, literally. Your dog jumps on your waist, demanding to be petted, and you fall, taking Sam with you.
Landing in a pile of leaves is more uncomfortable than the movies make it out to be, but Sam can’t find it in herself to protest when you’re the one on top of her. She smiles and you laugh out loud. She didn’t mess up.
“You’re covered in leaves,” you say, running your fingers through her hair, “And your face is smeared with black lipstick.”
She scoffs, “I wonder who’s responsible for that.”
“He is,” you point innocently at the dog standing next to you.
Sam rolls her eyes, but cups your face with her cold hands to pull you close again, and the second kiss she gives you is just as magical as the first.
Tara doesn’t expect to find a dog taking up the entire couch for the first time in days when she comes back from Chad’s dorm after sending you off on a fake mission to find her sister. Yet, hours later, there it is, with one of the sneakers she forgot to put away when she got home from class stuck in his mouth and trails of mud and leaves across the room.
“C’mon, man, that’s not a toy!”
She hears a laugh and finds herself face to face with Sam, looking completely filthy despite the sound of the shower running in the hallway and Tara knows Quinn isn’t home yet. Oh.
“So, you finally did something?”
Sam nods solemnly, pointing to the dark kiss etched into her jaw.
“I did.”
#sam carpenter x reader#sam carpenter#scream x reader#scream vi#scream imagine#sam carpenter x you#sam carpenter x y/n#sam carpenter imagine#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter x you#melissa barrera#denwrites#scream franchise#sam carpenter fluff
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Standing off in the corner of the room, a beer bottle in his hand, Daryl's eyes continually drifted to you. He could read your body language easily, and what he saw at that moment made him stand up straight and cross the room to you despite how much he really wanted to remain hidden off to the side.
"Ya alrigh'?" he asked in a low voice when he came up to stand beside you. He was already glaring at the tall guy across from you.
"Yeah, we're fine, thanks," Spencer said before you could even open your mouth to speak. He looked Daryl up and down with a disdainful expression and then his eyes went right back to you.
"No. We're not. I told you I don't want a drink, thanks," you said firmly.
"Oh, come on! It's a party! You have to have a drink!"
"She dun have to do anythin' she dun wanna do. Why the hell ya tryin' so hard to get some alcohol in her? Huh?" Daryl had stepped slightly in front of you now, an instinctive protective move you'd seen him do many times.
"Whoa! Okay, nothing—nothing bad! I'm just trying to make sure she has a good time!" "If ya want her to have a good time, why dun ya start with walkin' the fuck away?" he growled.
You had to stifle a laugh behind your hand.
There was an awkward pause before he answered. "Uh—I'm sure she can tell me herself if she wants me to—"
"Oh, she can. And she's plenty capable of kickin' yer ass down to the curb and back. But right now 'm steppin' in so ya dun ruin her whole night."
"Just for the record, I do want you to walk away. And I'm wearing a dress, otherwise I would deal with this whole situation myself," you added smugly.
Spencer stared back at Daryl and the muscle in his jaw tensed, but he clearly knew he'd lose a fight with this seemingly feral biker.
"Now's the part where ya leave," Daryl drawled, crossing his arms.
And Spencer did, without another word.
You sighed, relieved that he was gone. "Thanks," you said, looking up at Daryl. "How'd you know—?"
"Ah, c'mon. I know yer body language by now," Daryl said. "Ya looked super uncomfortable."
You laughed lightly. "Oh, really? What's my body language saying now then?" You reached out and smoothed a crease in his collar and Daryl gulped at the way you lifted your eyes to meet his, looking up from under your lashes.
"Uhh—I dun—'m not... sure..." he barely managed.
You smiled brightly at him. "I'll translate then; let's get out of here. Just you and me."
"Hell yes." Prompt: "This is the part where you leave."
#protective!daryl#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon twd#the walking dead#twd fanfics#daryl dixon drabbles#daryl imagines#daryl dixon x reader#daryl x y/n#fanfics#writers of tumblr#twd drabbles
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