#still has the same interests as when they were younger and still have pride in those interests

[radios-universe]

i’m 18 today. except i’m not. i’m 20 today. maybe one of these years i’ll catch up. maybe one of these years i won’t be crying at midnight on my birthday, confused on why i’m not 2 years younger than i think i am.

[wheneclipsefalls]

Little Gift - Latch

Neteyam photo by @cinetrix

Pairing: Dark Aged Up Neteyam x Human Fem Reader

Warnings: aged up characters, DUBCON/NONCON, kidnapping, MDNI EXPLICIT, yandered qualities, possessive behavior, slight degradation, interspecies intimacy, swearing, power imbalance, sub reader, dom Neteyam, manipulation, hair pulling, creampie, a lot more stuff but at this point you hopefully know whether or not you should read haha

Summary: Victory is finally his and Neteyam knows exactly how he wants to celebrate it.

A/N: A little unsure about my word choice but it's been fun writing from Neteyam perspective for the first time in this series. Enjoy!

Main Masterlist I Little Gift Masterlist

You belong here, perched on his lap with your head notched against his shoulder. So small and pretty that his legs barely register your body weight. He wraps a hand around your outer thigh to angel you further against him. This is perfect.

Everything is perfect. 

Pandora has rid of those Sky Demons and his prize, his little gift, is still here in his arms where you will always be. Those traitors are no longer here to tempt you with false promises of escape and a life outside of belonging to the Olo’eyktan. You may not realize it now but they would have broken you. It is only a miracle from Eywa that has allowed your beautiful spirit to stay in tack after all those years of inhabiting the same space as those treacherous creatures. 

The RDA may think that you are a gift given by them but in reality it is Eywa that has placed you on his lap.

You were created for him. Designed perfectly inside and out. 

His reward for all that he has had to endure. 

Now with you safely tucked in his arms and his People celebrating their freedom once more, he can rest. He is free to savor all that the Great Mother has offered him, although you prove to be difficult to rangle at times. That’s okay, he enjoys a good challenge. It makes your earned submission all that more satisfying. 

He’s not sure how long one human can cry for but it appears you are shooting for a record. Your tears have soaked the feathers of his Olo’eyktan attire but he doesn’t mind, not when you are snuggling into him for comfort. 

His plan of distraction worked wonders during take off but it was only a matter of time before your mind came back online and began worrying once more about the absence of people that never truly loved you. It’s to be expected however Neteyam is pleased to find that your response is not one of anger but sadness and seeking refuge. He couldn’t have asked for anything more ideal. 

He is your refuge, your one true home and the fact that you are learning that so quickly makes a sense of pride burst within him. 

The glittering gems of your new top compliment your own sparkling tears exquisitely. It had taken weeks for him to make but it was worth it. He would want nothing less for his pet on a night of such grand celebration. However, it becomes abundantly clear that he is not the only one who appreciates the outfit. 

It’s the fifth time Lo’ak has turned in the direction of the throne while dancing to check on you. Or at least, that is how his younger brother would be sure to phrase it but Neteyam is no fool. He can see the hunger in those eyes. Typical of his younger sibling to chase after what he can not have. What Neteyam himself possesses. 

Their eyes meet and it only takes a moment for Lo’ak to recover from being caught and roll his own back at his brother and turn to continue dancing. He’s not sure how much longer this game will go on where Lo’ak pretends to hold no interest. One way or another it will come out. Neteyam’s arm tightens around your waist, fingers running through your silky hair. 

It is then that he notices your little sobs have stopped and are now replaced with long deep breaths. It’s amazing that you are able to sleep through the banging drums and echoing calls but it seems that all of your crying has worn out your poor little body. Such a fragile thing you are. 

All the more reason to keep you close. And yet another reason he finds his mind swirling back to the idea of keeping you on a leash. Ideally he would carry you to and fro but there are times where he needs to have his hands available. With your habit to wander off he can’t risk having you fall and break your little neck. A leash would be the perfect solution.

Not to mention how good you would look trailing behind him, sweet little bow around your throat as a permanent reminder of his claim on you. 

His tewng [loincloth] is unbearably tight. It presses against your soft thighs but that’s not enough. For perhaps the hundredth time you shift in his lap, unable to sit comfortably on your red ass. You’ve given up on trying to convince him to let you stand but that doesn’t stop that supple little pout from gracing your lips every time you are reminded of the pain. Even in your sleep you try to wiggle and squirm from his lap. 

Of course there is another source of your constant squirming. A source that Neteyam finds his fingers dipping down to trace over as the base just barely peeks out of your tight pussy. 

This plug is much larger than the cute one you had stowed away in your old nightstand drawer. It had taken more than a fair amount of encouragement to slot that thick piece of plastic inside your cunt but the sight was magnificent. Complain all you want but the way your walls clench around it in desperation tells Neteyam more than he needs to know. 

It’s the largest size of his collection which means that tonight is the night. Tonight you will officially become his. Your pussy will soon forever have the imprint of his thick length inside of you, ruining you for any other man. Not that you would ever have the chance to be with another male outside of him again. Jared was the end of that line and the Olo’eyktan feels no hint of remorse for taking care of that pest.

Another flash of Lo’ak’s gaze.

Neteyam feels you stir when he lets out a deep sigh. However reluctant he is, it’s important to set his brother straight. Lo’ak has an overactive imagination after all and the last thing he would want is his little brother’s curiosity and desire becoming an interruption for the wondrous night the two of you are about to have. 

Those long lashes flutter open, throat caught on a sharp intake when he stands up and places you back onto the seat. Your dazed and confused look is one that Neteyam can’t help but coo at, the pad of his thumb running over your cheek. 

“Mawey, tiyawn [be calm, love]. I will be right back.” You’re already scrambling to your knees, finally keeping the weight off of your sore bum. “Be a good girl for me and stay put, yes?”

It’s a rhetorical question and one that he doesn’t give you a chance to answer before a kiss is placed on your hairline and the Olo’eyktan is parting the crowd. It’s obvious that there is a moment where you consider stopping him. You may be hell bent on never admitting it verbally but the other Na’vi put you on edge and being around him has become your one constant, a safety you can rely on. If not for his urgency Neteyam would take his time in teasing you on the matter. 

Your face always looks even more lovely with that deep shade of red, whether from anger or embarrassment or even both. 

Later, he reminds himself.  

The female rubbing up against Lo’ak looks more than put out by his lagged reciprocation. Her displeasure colors into slight shock when she spots her Olo’eyktan coming straight towards them. Lo’ak crosses his arms as his partner quickly signs the proper respect to their leader. Neteyam dismisses her easily. 

“Excuse me, sister. I require a moment with my brother.” Neteyam ushers Lo’ak away from the scene before giving her a chance to respond or offer to give them privacy. 

The fire’s light now just barely humming over their skin. The two brothers find a moment of solace on the outskirts of the celebration. Neteyam’s ears still buzz from the sensory overload it has taken for the past few hours. 

“If you’re going to ask me for another favor can it at least wait until tomorrow? There is a party, you know.” Lo’ak tall frame lazily leans against the nearest tree and he attempts to hide the way his eyes fly over Neteyam’s shoulder towards you by making a show of tying his hair back. 

“Funny considering how eager you were to grant me a favor earlier this morning.” Neteyam’s veiny arms cross over his chest, tail whipping back and forth in the cool wind. If Lo’ak is intimidated he doesn’t show it. 

“Aren’t I a wonderful brother?” Those sharp teeth shimmer as he makes a show of giving an over the top sarcastic grin.

“Lo’ak.” Neteyam growls. 

“Jesus, calm down.” Lo’ak groans, head thrown back against the bark. “She’s still your little toy.” 

“I am not stupid, baby brother. I see the way you look at her.” 

“Whatever.” Lo’ak bristles and makes his way to stomp off but he is caught by the upper bicep. 

“I don’t want there to be any…confusion.” Silence spreads between them, the only sound being that of Lo’ak’s harsh exhale. 

“I was only watching.” He finally says, voice dropping lower. 

“And you are free to.” Small steps bring him further into his brother’s space. “But let’s be clear about whose permission you need in order to touch.” 

“And I didn’t.” His arm is ripped from Neteyam’s grasp. “I’ve only ever babysat the little brat and done all that you’ve asked of me. If you are looking for problems to address I would start with her running off at every given opportunity. Take a look for yourself!” He flails an exasperated arm in your direction but Neteyam doesn’t even bother to turn. 

“I am aware.” There is no need to look in order to know that you have once again tried your hand at another escape. He can see it in his mind’s eye now, your small body carefully hoisting itself down from the high throne. Panicked eyes racing over the crowd in search of any Na’vi that could potentially halt your actions. All that before short legs race off into the darkness. “I’m giving her a head start.” 

It’s best not to let you go too far. Eywa knows you are very skilled at finding new ways to put yourself in danger, but a little chase is an exhilarating experience. 

“Oh yeah, you going to make me chase after her for you too?” Lo’ak spits out, urging Neteyam to roll his eyes at his brother’s antics. He resists however, that wouldn’t be very becoming of the Olo’eyktan. 

“I fear you would enjoy that far too much, brother.”

Instead of fiery words shot back the only line of defense Lo’ak puts up is a scoff and frowned expression, golden eyes simmering with words that he knows better than to voice. Neteyam can give his brother credit for that at least. He knows when he is stomping on dangerous territory. You, on the other hand, seem to be learning that lesson far too slow. It seems a cute tawtute like you are more of a hands on learner. 

“Can I be excused then, oh might Olo’eyktan?” He flourishes with a sarcastic bow. 

“Leave.” Neteyam bites out simply, forcing his eyes to remain trained on his younger brother as he joins the crowd again. It’s a safety precaution just in case Lo’ak gets a bad idea even after warnings. Much to the Na’vi girl’s dismay Lo’ak does not join her again on the dance floor and instead heads straight towards the fermented fruit. No doubt he will spoil himself into a drunken state. Unfortunately for him, Neteyam already has his hands full babysitting you tonight. 

He takes his time, however, greeting a few of the clan members and partaking in a small dose of alcohol himself. With your small legs it will take you forever to get a distance that makes this chase even remotely fun. However, once the drink is empty and he has done his dues as Olo’eyktan in the social event Neteyam can no longer keep himself at bay. There are other creatures of the night that could be waiting to catch a pretty prey like you.

Tracking you down is almost laughably easy with your sweet scent wafting through the air. A scent that only grows tenfold when he comes across a peculiar piece of plastic stashed in a bush. It’s the dildo that is meant to still be snuggled up in your little cunt. 

A sharp smirk cuts into his features. 

For such a smart little thing you really can be so negligent at times. With the dildo out your scent now goes from a dulled perfume to a thick fragrance that coats the air. He recognizes that aroma, he knows the way it tastes. Your arousal has only made you an easier target and now you have done nothing but take out the one piece keeping it plugged. Neteyam can envision so clearly that trail of slick that is sure to be marking your thighs. 

Such a messy little thing you are. Even after the way he cleaned you up so dutifully post launch, you have managed to turn into a wet temptation once more. 

The small footprints along the dirt are almost pointless in his pursuit now that he has your scent. They only serve as a confirmation that he is going the right way. It doesn’t take long before the sound of your sharp panting reaches his upturned ears. It’s then that the Olo’eyktan takes to the trees. He glides along the thick branches without a sound, gaining a bird’s eye view of your desperate running. 

The full on sprint you started off with has come down to a clumsy jog. Even with your small stride he’s sure you could make it a lot further if you would simply stop looking over your shoulder every other second. An action that has you stumbling and grabbing your foot to pick out a thorn from the underside. Little curses rise between your harsh breaths. 

And then your breathing is cut all together. 

The sounds of claws and wild yips echo through the greenery. By the sounds of it Neteyam knows it must be a small pack of aynantang [viperwolves]. They aren’t close, at least not yet. With your back turned and eyes blown out in silent terror he decides that now is as good a time as ever to interrupt. 

Neteyam lowers himself down slowly, muscular arms controlling his descent into a movement so smooth and silent that it is nothing more than a shadow. A shaky hand covers your lips, the little puff of your beating heart pushing your chest out even more. One long step forward and now he can watch your trembling from above, his toes almost touching your muddy heels. 

“Their bite is not as sharp as mine, pet.” 

You scream before the sound can be stopped, spinning so fast your heel that you land directly on your red bum instead. Even without glowing tanhi dotting your skin, those dilated eyes have a way of making you glow in the night. Even more so when they dazzle up at him with unleashed fear and vulnerability. 

You scramble backwards, clawing at the muddy ground until you are clumsily trying to crawl back onto your feet. Fine by him, it’s easier to close the height difference when you are back to standing. He grabs your right arms easily, pulling you back against him. The fight continues as you turn to bash your first against his abdomen, even clawing at his thighs but then another sound cuts you off again. 

They are closer this time.

“They hunt in packs.” Neteyam informs you. “Circle their prey until there is nowhere left to go.”

A rustle of bushes to the left has your squirming changing from running away to ducking behind Neteyam. He allows the action, sharp teeth peeking from his grin when he feels the way your soft fingers dig into his thighs. 

“My father was almost killed by a pack once. Even in his avatar form he depended on my mother’s mercy to fight the creatures off.” You shake like a leaf in the wind, your face pressed against his lower back when the sounds get louder. He almost feels bad for scaring you so much, tempted to bundle you in his arms and shush your worries away. However, that would ruin the lesson. You are the one that decided to run off carelessly into the woods without him and now you need to understand why you depend on Neteyam for everything. Why you owe him your submission and affection. 

“I wonder how you would fair.” A few more wolves prowl from the bushes, inching closer. They creep forward with a hesitance at the sight of Neteyam, driven only by curiosity as your scent continues to fill the air. 

“Teyam.” You whimper into his hip, now latching onto the strap of his loincloth to urge him backwards. 

“What’s wrong, pet? I thought you wanted to be set free?”

A vicious snarl rip from the right and you stumble to cling to his left side now. That startled little scream is just barely muffled by the way your face is pressed into his hip. 

He coos at your little pleas. “Has someone changed their mind, hm?” Any other time you would be barring your blunt teeth at him but he knows that in the height of your fear there is no resistance left for him. You’re too focused on the prowling beasts that flash their own teeth in eclipse’s glow. 

“Teyam please, let’s go!” Voice caught on sobs that threaten to rise, you can barely make the words out. 

Your fear is palpable, but not just to him.The aynantang [viperwolves] can sense it too. They circle and watch with more confidence as the seconds roll by. Periodically they flicker up to his looming form, as if checking to see whether or not he will be a threat against their newfound meal. It would be easy to scare them off, something Neteyam has done himself many times. He’s hunted these forests since he was a boy and his own scent is something that the creatures have learned to associate with danger. 

Standing here now, however, he keeps a neutral position and one that the pack hesitantly takes as an opportunity to cinch closer. A flash of his knife and that confidence would disintegrate until the pack would scurry off into another corner of the forest. 

Neteyam keeps it sheathed. 

“You’re the one that ran off, little gift.” He reminds you, voice calm and cool. 

“I know! I know! I’m sorry j-just please!” 

“Please what, tiyawn? You have to be more specific.” 

You struggle to respond properly, hands frantically switching from tugs at the straps to clawing up at his arms. Regardless, Neteyam remains unmoved, arms crossed over his chest as he observes the scene with indifference. “Please..please don’t let them-” You gasp rearing back when you spot another viperwolf emerging from the left. It’s been there for a while but it appears this is the first time your weak eyes have caught sight of it. “I’m sorry! I’ve changed my mind! Please, I’m sorry.” You cry out in a shrill voice, plastering yourself under his arm. 

“Changed your mind on what?” It’s tempting to look down and see the way you so desperately seek his comfort but Neteyam is wise enough to keep his golden gaze sharply pinned on the emerging creatures. 

“On wanting to leave! You can take me home just please-”

“Oh can I?” Your chin is snatched between two fingers, forcing you to crane your neck up towards him. That mask of indifference is gone, replaced only  by a fierce stirness you are terrified to be facing twice in one day. “And what makes you think that is up to you?”

It’s hard to look into your eyes directly when they are bouncing wildly in every which direction. Perhaps it is your pitiful way of tracking the oncoming predators, or maybe you simply can not handle facing his gaze filled with ire. Either way, it is adorable to watch your natural submissive nature emerge. And all from a few viperwolves. 

Poor thing, what would you do without him?

“I-I’m sorry.” You say, voice so small and timid that only a Na’vi would have hopes of hearing it. Neteyam’s chest rumbles with a deep purr, other hand finally coming up to run through your hair.

“I know you are, tiyawn. You just get confused sometimes, don’t you?” No response is given, instead just a gasp as another creature inches closer and you dash into his arms. This time he wraps one arm around your small frame while the other goes for his sheathed knife. The advance pauses, aynantang  [viperwolves] pacing from side to side instead. Your reaction is premature but Neteyam basks in it all the same.

From the heated breath and salty tears painting his lower stomach he begins to worry that your fragile body will soon give out and lose consciousness. Keeping you tucked under his arm is the best move, easily accessible for when he needs to scoop you up without retaliation. However at this point, it seems that you are willing to do whatever it takes to earn his protection.

What a short memory you truly have. Perhaps if you listened to him more diligently like a good pet should then you would already know that his protection has been yours since the first time he saw you. He would defend you to his very last breath. Whether or not you asked for it would be irrelevant. That being said, you’ve always had the sweetest way of begging so who is he to deny himself such a pretty chorus of promises. 

They flow now freely from your lips. Pleading, crying, and begging for him to get you out of harm's way. He simply shushes you, making no rush as a rigid arm tightens to pull you even closer. 

The creatures are scared off within the first few hisses that leave his lips. Knife dancing under the moonlight with a deadly promise, they yip away reluctantly. Still, there is an advantage to not letting you know how easy it truly is to scare them off so he tells you to look away, to keep snuggled against him where they can not so easily see your fear. 

You remain that way when you are lifted into his arms. Your thighs strain to wrap around his ribcage but you eventually manage to lock your ankles together. With your shaky limbs locked in terror you are barely in need of his supporting arm, but he wraps one under your rear anyways. You remind him of a small syaksyuk [Prolemuris] as you cling with fervor, lighting his amusement to new heights. 

The walk back is pleasant, even when your shaking doesn’t stop and your racing heart beat is louder than the stomp of his feet. There is still great peace to be found with you in his arms and the promise of a wonderful night in the air. After tonight you won’t dare to leave him, not now that you have developed a healthy sense of fear and even more so once your body has taken him fully the way it was meant to. 

He holds back a groan at the thought. Your smell is still just as potent as when you first ran and now it holds an extra tang of emotion that makes it all that much sweeter. He manages to pick up the tossed aside dildo on the way back, but that acts as fuel to the flames. 

He has sought after your true mating for months and now that he is on the cusp of finally making it a reality it is hard to keep a rational mind. The natural urge to pin you down and take what has always been his morphs into a feral urgency that infringes on his thoughts. Although, he is determined to take his time tonight because it is isn’t enough to simply fuck you into the ground or find pleasure in that first stretch. No, tonight is about claiming you in every way possible. 

About teaching not only your body but your mind that there is no one else it belongs to. No one else that can provide for you in the way he can. Utter and complete submission is his goal. But to get you there, that will take skillful maneuvering and coercion. Otherwise it would not be a quest worthy of his time or attention. 

However, there is still one more way he can lock you into his life. One permanent reminder that would forever keep you shackled to him. An action that would have your scent intertwined with his so much so that it wouldn’t matter if it took. Pregnant or not the message would be clear. The confines of his loincloth feel suffocating at the thought. Would your tiny pussy even be able to hold half of his seed? What a pretty treat it would be to see it spilling out from your perfectly pink and tight hole. 

Pace now quickened, nothing can take away his laser focus. Not even Lo’ak’s obvious staring as you are carried swiftly along the outer edges of the celebration. Nor Spider who tries to run across the crowd and apologize again. Neither make it to him because all that he can feel is the warmth of your softy body. The pulse of your heart. The essence that is entirely yours, filling his lungs. 

Once back in the safety of his kelku [home/house] you are smart enough to not flee from his lap. He manhandles one leg to be thrown to the other side so you are properly straddling him. A sense of shyness must fall over you because you are silent while nervously fiddling with the feathers of his traditional attire. Or maybe you are still too shaken up over the little viperwolf incident to do much else. 

Neteyam is unbothered by it, instead using it as an opportunity to let his hands explore. Not in a sexual way at first, just simple brushes that are sure to have you melting for him.

“Now you understand why you must stay by my side. Don’t you pet?” Voice as gentle as the hands that run up the back of your neck, he can feel goosebumps rise in its wake. Eyes still fixated on the feathers, you nod shakily. If it wasn’t so cute he would be tempted to reprimand you for such a half hearted response but it appears luck is in your favor. 

His knuckles paint a trail up the back of your neck before swiping over your left shoulder. His other hand softly gathers your hair to the other side so your skin is bared for him. He thumbs at the side of your throat, feeling your pulse flicker beneath his fingers. 

“Such a pretty thing like you is not safe out there.” His hands bracket either side of your face, large enough to span the entirety of your head and tilt it upwards. It gives him the perfect view of your expression when both hands smooth up towards your hairline before parting and dragging along your scalp. Lips parted and eyes fluttered closed, he knows he has pressed the right button. 

“Creatures eager to snatch you up.” Neteyam draws out, nails ever so gently scratching along your roots. The shiver that races through your body is powerful enough to be visual. Massaging at the area in long strokes proves to have you breaking into pieces. Body practically limp against him, the Olo’eyktan watches with glee. 

No wonder Sky People are too soft for this world, all it takes to disarm you is some well placed pets. 

“And they’d be successful too,” The tips of his fingers come together to circle your hair into a ponytail. A small sound exhales from your lips, leaning into his touch without resolve. “Have you between their teeth before you could even scream.” That dark tone washes over you in a way so contrary to the warning message, his lips mere centimeters away from your own. 

One little kiss, more of a peck really. That is all you get. Just enough to have you chasing after him, a motion that is hard to do when he has you anchored by the root of your hair. 

“And that,” Another soft peck to your cheek, “is why you are so lucky to have me.” Neteyam allows his lips to linger longer this time but it’s still just as soft, almost more of a whisper than anything else and with the way you are trapped, there is nothing for you to do but take it. The noise that catches in your throat proves it is far from the passionate affection you desire. 

“Isn’t that right?”

“Yes Teyam.” You puff, the softest whisper as you try to learn forward for more. He tutts in disapproval, a slow but firm yank to your hair following. “Y-yes Olo’eyktan.” You correct yourself with a squeak and much to his delight, the fragrance from between your thighs intensifies. He’s tempted to look now and see if it has left a spot on his loincloth. 

“There’s my good girl.” He grins and finally you are rewarded with his lips capturing yours. Although slow and tender in movement the heat of the kiss is all consuming, spreading a message that can only reflect his complete control over you. Several times you try to squirm or wiggle but the hand embedded in your hair shackles you into place. 

Unlike most times you become a fidgeting little thing, it’s clear that your efforts are to get closer, not further away. Neteyam is a nice man after all and so he indulges that desire. At least to a degree. He kisses you until you’re gasping for breath. He kisses you until slick is seeping through your mini loincloth. And he kisses you until those soft little lips are ruby red and chapped from the harsh treatment. 

It doesn’t matter to you, that much is clear by the way you whimper once he pulls away. 

“Don’t be greedy.” He smirks against your cheek.

Your greed only intensifies when he slips one hand down to untie your loincloth. His other hand remains embedded in your hair as a leash, one that proves necessary as you are eager to rut up against him. Perhaps he would feel guilty for the way you blush in shame after another tug to your hair. That is, if your reactions weren’t so delightfully endearing. 

For reasons mysterious to him, humans have a habit of going against their natural needs. You are not exempt from this issue as you are constantly trying to deny your desire for him, even deny yourself the pleasure you so clearly require. It’s fortunate that you have him to override those silly concerns. And override them he does, quite easily since your body reacts like a live wire every time he is near. The smallest of touches have you aching for more.

Eywa has blessed him with such a responsive little pet and he has every intention of exploiting that sensitivity until you are screeching for him to stop. 

Small hands come to dig into his feathered mantle as he idly explores the curves of your stomach. He traces up until reaching the sparkling gems of your top. With two little flicks your hardened nipples are bared for him. 

It’s a rare experience to have you so cooperative as he bites and sucks at those little peaks. The emotions of that day have softened your resolve, a pattern that Neteyam makes a mental note of. 

He tunes into every sensation of satin skin beneath his fingertips. Atop his thighs. Prickling beneath his lips. Like a flower you blossom for him so exquisitely. Revealing petals that are just for him. Melodic whimpers that only he has the pleasure of inducing. The irritation of Lo’ak’s infatuation fades to the background with you so pliant in his arms. 

You are quickly driven to madness, or at least is how you plead when he continues to trace, worship and tease your small body. Neteyam is anxious too. His hard member presses painfully against the fabric of his tewng. However, being the first born son has taught him something that you very rarely exhibit: patience. The fruits of your labors are tenfold more exhilarating once following a period of yearning. 

And you yearn for him, little gift. So much so that your dramatic begging has him holding back a deep chuckle. 

A river of nectar flowing down your thighs, you act as if you will pitter into dust if not satisfied. 

It will be fun training you. Making you learn to sit patiently like a good pet when that inferno of fire burns deep within you. He can devise a plethora of creative punishments for when you inevitably step out of line. Neteyam looks forward to the long process. He wouldn’t want to succeed too quickly and cut the fun short.

Luckily your spit fire attitude is sure to draw it out, keeping him entertained and challenged for a long time. 

The reasoning is only further confirmed when he catches you sneaking a tiny hand between your legs. The grip in your hair finally releases only for him to sharply smack away your attempt. 

“Did I say you could do that?” 

You’re exasperated, pleading eyes staring up at him as a drawn out groan comes from your lips. 

“Well are you planning to tease me all night or actually do something?” 

You’re pinned onto your back in a heartbeat, this time his right hand curled around your throat instead of your hair. It may not be firm enough to cut off your airway but the oxygen in your lungs freezes all the same. 

“Oeyӓ tiyawn I have greater plans for my pussy than using your pathetic little fingers.” He growls into your ear, watching as you are too frozen in shock to bother struggling. “Because by the end of tonight it will be filled with my seed.” 

Your throat bobs with a thick gulp, stuttered words struggling to come forth but a tad more pressure against your pulse earns your silence. And to his fascination, your eyes roll back into your head. Fight it all you want, but it’s clear you have always thrived off of his domination. This power imbalance is one that you need. Satisfying that deeply locked away drive you have to be loved, pampered, controlled, and absolutely ruined.

Just in the way only he can deliver. 

Squeeze any tighter and his fingers might just lose circulation. Regardless, the dildos have done their job effectively and now you are more than ready to take him. It was always going to be a tight fit, but at least there is little risk of real injury due to his preparations. 

You appear less convinced on that matter when his unoccupied hand roughly tugs off his tewng. Wide eyes stare down to where his full length lays along your stomach. He has to admit that in a position like this the size difference does become ever more staggering but he has every faith in you. 

“Neteyam please,” You whimper, shiny eyes staring up at him for mercy.

“Please what?” He hums. His fingers curl to massage that special spot inside while his thumb playfully runs over your clit. It has the desired effect, watching as your begging turns towards a different goal.

“Please let me cum! Need it! Neteyam please!”

Neteyam shushes you tenderly, relieving some of the pressure from you little button when he feels your cunt clench around him on the verge of an orgasm. You’ve never looked more beautiful than now, naked and spread across the little nest of blankets and pillows he arranged just for you. Long hair splayed out in every which direction and eyes already coated in a haze, it appears as if you have already been fucked dumb beneath him. 

“Patience, little gift. You will cum on my cock soon enough.” 

Your alarm flares up once more. 

“No Neteyam I can’t! It’s too big, it’s impossible-”

A large thumb presses over your lips to silence you. At this rate you are going to work yourself into hysterics and that would unravel all of the hard work he has done to get you here. A few more intentional circles on your clit has those protests flying out the door. It’s clear you require his help to stay calm and compliant the way you are meant to. The Olo’eyktan doesn’t mind aiding.

Your chest rises and falls dramatically as you melt under the pleasure. And when his three fingers are replaced with the head of his cock lining up, you hardly even notice. As long as that little bundle of nerves is being stimulated, you are hyper focused on seeing out that ecstasy to a finish. 

A soft kiss dampens your screech when he slots in just the tip. Already his mind swirls from the sensation but Neteyam manages to reign in his focus. Little ‘no’ s and pleas fall from your lips to caress his. 

“Mawey, oeyӓ tiyawn [be calm, my love]. You are being so good for me.” Another inch and it feels as if his own knees are about to crumble from how tightly you cinch around him. Small hands fists into the fabric below as your eyes squeeze shut. Neteyam shakily grasps one with his right hand, placing it along his shoulder that is now exposed with the feathered attire out of the way. “You can touch, little pet. Good girls deserve rewards.” 

With your face just barely reaching chest level the Olo’eyktan is forced to bend into an awkward position every time he goes to kiss away your tears, but it’s worth it. Those blunt little nails dig into his lower back. It’s a shame they aren’t strong enough to leave marks that he can cherish.

The air from his lungs are pushed out in a rush as he plunges ever so slightly deeper inside your sweet little pussy. You tense and cry beneath him, scratching as his back in haste. Although mere seconds away from popping his load far too early he still manages to reach down and play with your poor little cunt until more of that sweet essence is trailing out. 

“You need to relax for me, pet.” Neteyam grits, tail curling erratically. “Going to suffocate my cock like this, little one.” And it’s true because in all of his years of sexual maturity not once has he ever felt a pussy so tight, so responsive, wrapped around him. It drives him to the point of insanity. It takes every last bit of resolve he has left to not shove the rest of himself inside and plow you into the floor. 

But Neteyam knows better than to break his toys. 

The next few minutes test his mental and physical stamina over and over as you slowly take him inch by inch. Every slow push of his hips causes a domino effect of tears and incoherent cries from your sweet lips. He kisses and soothes and pleasures your trembling body until you’ve learned to relax again. Only to then restart the cycle when you take one inch more. 

However, nothing prepares him for the end result. No amount of dreaming or training could ever have done the sight justice as he sees the  way your soft belly bulges when he reaches the hilt. The shape of him is clearly visible, twitching so deep inside of you that it threatens to drive both of you into sensation overload. 

The groan that rumbles from his throat is one that you have never heard before. So rough and unleashed that your glittering eyes dilate in response. It’s still painful, that much he can see from the look on your face. So despite every instinct in him screaming to ruin your little pussy until it can take no more, Neteyam remains in place. 

Your swollen nub is red from his sensual play, nipples not far behind as he laps and kisses them like they are the last meal he will ever have. That beautiful blush now heats down your neck and torso, as if tempting him to continual his oral fixation. It accentuates most importantly that bulge of your stomach until he can’t help himself anymore, large hand spanning over your tummy to press on that area lightly. 

“Can you feel me, tiyawn? Right here?” He presses again, your mouth opening in a silent scream. “Taking me so deep, pet. My good girl.” 

 And it’s then that it feels as if something has clicked. Your bodies becomes attuned to one another. Burning stretch morphs into something otherworldly, those soft features finally unscrewing into fluttering bliss. And he draws out ever so slightly to rut back in, your head falls back against the pillows. 

He’s waited long enough. Pinned long enough. Crawled after you long enough. Now all that his body can do is take what you so freely give him. His hips snap forward without restrain, spurred on by the little sounds that pulse in the back of your throat. Little fingers scatter between gripping his muscular back and tangling into his braids. 

The heat that travels from his ears to toes is so intense that it feels as if he may burst into an inferno. And he truly might, little gift. With the way you hug his cock so snuggly as if you never want to let it go, you may simply kill him. He would be happy to go that way. To leave this world drowning in the bliss of your destined union. 

And for once in his life, Neteyam lets himself fully go. He chases that peak with fervent desperation. He drinks in every reaction you have to give him. And when the pleasure becomes all too much for you to take. When you grapple to crawl away from him and the mind shattering climax that is around the corner, he pulls you back down with a hiss. 

“No more running, pet.” He commands, a growl emanating so deeply from his chest that he almost doesn’t recognize his own voice. He hoists your left leg around his waist, effectively changing the angle to thrust in deeper. 

“Neteyam!” A screech like sweet honey from your lips as you finally tip over the edge. Body trembling so hard it takes that firm grip on your leg to keep it there, you crumble beneath him. His stamina is far from being drained as he rides you through it. Every wave of pleasure is stronger than a drug, leading him to cloud nine until he no longer wants to be anywhere else. 

“T-too much.” You gasp for air but your body is already succumbing to the onslaught. He can feel the way you are ramping up again. This is far from being over. 

“Give in.” Neteyam coos but the ring of that command is clear. There is no other option. That is the way it has always been because from the very beginning you have always been his. And sooner or later Eywa knew that the two of you would be here together, trapped in his love where you belong. 

“Oh God!” You cry out, body sliding up the floor with every thrust. 

Whether you find his queue by accident or on purpose is unclear but that first tug is enough to have his balls drawing up against his body, bracing to fly into bliss. There is a sticky mess between the two of you, slick enough to have those wet sounds filling the night air. Neteyam runs the flat of his nose over your sweaty temple and curve of your cheek. 

“My little gift.” He purrs, body on the brink of rupturing. He says it more for himself than you but is more than pleased to watch the way your eyes flutter close as the sound. Trembling, squeezing, and shattering around him, those are the moments your reserve of denial dries up.

That’s how it has always been. From the first night that he brought you home, tucked under his arm, you’ve had this other side that can be taunted out. Even that night as you had pleaded to be released only to have the gag put back in, his tongue had driven you to stillness. Your screaming of kidnapping had sizzled into a series of moans and ecstatic exclamations. 

There’s another side to him too.

The part of him that can finally bask in the one thing he has wanted for months. The part of him that yearns for reprieve day in and day out. The part that demands for rest- for freedom. 

Now he can finally surrender himself to the magic that the two of you create. To the sparkle that runs down your cheeks. To the sensation of being embraced so tightly by your little pussy. To the way his name has never sounded better from anyone else’s lips. Eywa has finally given him this gift, his sanctuary from every other pressure bestowed upon him. 

And now nothing is going to take it away from him.

Nothing will ever take you away.

Those are the thoughts that coerce his primal nature forward. The same that ramp the fire of his tongue demanding more from you. Pushing you further, harder, deeper. 

“You won’t let any spill out, will you pet?” He spits between grunts. 

“I-I’ll be good. I’ll be good. I’ll be good.” More of a chant on loop than anything else. One day you will beg properly. You will cry for his seed, for his babies. You won’t question whether or not pregnancy is possible as he fills your womb with his mark. 

You will wear that little bow on your neck with pride.

Neteyam forces his eyes open at the precipice. Even as his body convulses and cock pulses rampantly while painting your insides white, he won’t allow himself to miss a single moment. That imprint of your expression as he finally claims you past the point of return will stay with him. The drawn in gasp that is sucked in from your red lips when you feel that warmth will be what keeps him going on day after day. Major to minor details of tonight will be his soundtrack to perfection as he pushes himself to be the best Olo’eyktan possible. 

And when the day has worn him to the bone and those day dreams are not enough, there you will be. Waiting for him oh so sweetly. 

“I want to sleep.”

Your muffled whine coaxes a chuckle from the Olo’eyktan.

“Then sleep.” He responds, only looking up from your spread legs for a second. So peaceful and sweet you are now, almost drowned in the hammock’s blankets and pillows. The picture of innocence and beauty only to then trail his eyes lower and find the evidence of his primal claim. His bioluminescent seed paints your weeping folds and inner thighs. A new spurt erupts from your still clenching hole only for him to push it back inside with his thumb again. 

It won’t make much of a difference. There is no way your small body could ever truly hold all of it but that doesn’t stop him from teasing you all the same. 

“Looks like this little pussy will need training to savor my seed properly after all.” 

Eyes still closed you let out a groan, trying to rip your thighs from his fingers. You remain trapped as exhaustion finally overcomes you, only a small incoherent curse from your tongue before passing out. 

Neteyam grins, reaching up to straighten the little pink bow around your throat. 

Please don't be shy. Hearing your thoughts and reactions is what helps fuel my drive to keep posting. Love you, pookies<3

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[inkskinned]

she's three years younger than i am, and i put on cascada as a throwback, cackling - before your time! i've been borrowing my brother's car, and it's older than dirt, so the trunk is like, maybe permanently locked. when the sun comes through the window to frame her cheekbones, i feel like i'm 16 again. i shake when i'm kissing her, worried i won't get it right.

in 2003, my state made gay marriage legal. where she grew up, it wasn't legal until 11 years later - 10 years ago. if legal protections for gay marriage were a person, that person would be entering 5th grade. online, a white gay man calls the fight for legal marriage boring, which isn't kind of him but it is a common enough opinion.

it has only been 9 years since gay marriage was nationally official. it is already boring to have gay people in your tv. it is already boring to mention being gay - "why make it your entire personality?" i know siblings that have a larger age gap than the amount of time it's been legally protected. i recently saw a grown man record himself crying about how evil gay people are. he was begging us, red in the face - just do better.

i am absolutely ruined any time my girlfriend talks about being 27 (i know!! a child!), but we actually attended undergrad at the same time since i had taken off time to work between high school and college. while walking through the city, we drop our hands, try not to look too often at each other. the other day i went to an open mic in a basement. the headlining comedian said being lesbian isn't interesting, but i am a lesbian, if you care. as a joke, she had any lesbian raise their hand if present. i raised mine, weirdly embarrassed at being the single hand in a sea of other faces. she had everyone give me a round of applause. i felt something between pride and also throwing up.

sometimes one thing is also another thing. i keep thinking about my uncle. he died in the hospital without his husband of 35 years - they were not legally wed, so his husband could not enter. this sounds like it should be from 1950. it happened in 2007. harassment and abuse and financial hardship still follow any person who is trying to get married while disabled. marriage equality isn't really equal yet.

and i don't know that i can ever put a name to what i'm experiencing. sometimes it just feels... so odd to watch the balance. people are fundamentally uninterested in your identity, but also - like, there's a whole fucking bastion of rabid men and women who want to kill you. your friends roll their eyes you're gay we get it and that is funny but like. when you asked your father do you still love me? he just said go to your room. you haven't told your grandmother. disney is on their 390th "first" gay representation, but also cancelled owl house and censored the fuck out of gravity falls. you actively got bullied for being gay, but your advisor told you to find a different gimmick for your college essay - everyone says they're gay these days.

once while you were having a hard day you cried about the fact that the reason our story is so fucking boring to so many people is that it is so similar. that it is rare for one of us to just, like, have a good experience across the board. that our stories often have very parallel bends - the dehumanization, the trauma, the trouble with trusting again. these become rote instead of disgusting. how bad could it be if it is happening to so many people?

i kiss my girlfriend when nobody is looking. i like her jawline and how her hands splay when she's making a joke. there is nothing new about this story, sappho. i love her like opening up the sun. like folding peace between the layers of my life, a buttercream of euphoria, freckles and laughter and wonder.

my dad knows about her. i've been out to him since i was 18 - roughly four years before the supreme court would protect us. the other day he flipped down the sun visor while driving me to the eye doctor. "you need to accept that your body was made for a husband. you want to be a mother because you were made for men, not women." he wants me to date my old high school boyfriend. i gagged about it, and he shook his head. he said - "don't be so dramatic. you can get used to anything."

the other day a straight friend of mine snorted down her nose about it, accidentally echoing him - she said there are bigger problems in this world than planning a wedding.

[writella]

Reckless Romantics

Synopsis: Can be read as a stand alone or part two to getting ready for me; a return to innocent, inexperienced!reader and her relationship with Rick Grimes; two weeks after their first time together there has been some distance, but now Rick wants to make up for how hasty he was when he touched her last.

Details: Rick Grimes x fem!reader, smut: oral (f receiving) and teaching reader how to give a handjob, unspecified (of age) age gap, sweetness + kissing + a little mutual pining maybe, probably cliche, and leaning more into Rick as the dutiful leader and gentle lover (I feel this is just as in character as dom!Rick). Reader is a music lover— any kind of music you like— but she also likes a specific band only because I watched a documentary about them at the theater in July so it made its way into the story. Slightly proofread— will be corrected more later. wc: 5-7k (I lost track after finishing it on tumblr).

A/N: I wrote this message before I returned for the summer, but I still want you to read it: Been spending time outside this summer, trying to reach some goals— time got away from me. I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying I miss you, but please know it’s always true.

— with love from writella, my beautiful reader. ♡

Rick Grimes was not a man to give in to temptation.

My mercy prevails over my wrath, he’d say— his secret keepsake phrase. The one he whispers to himself in moments of hardship; the one he uses when he needs to make decisions only a leader would. Rick was a man of discipline; honor. He never boasted about how seriously he took these qualities, but when others did— admired, applauded, stuck by him for it— it would be a lie to say that he didn’t take note and use their pride to keep him going. This is how he knows he is strong-willed, why he wouldn’t fall for foolish, forbidden things. He was better than that. The safety and prosperity he brought to Alexandria proved it, reaffirmed it.

So why couldn’t someone remind him of that two weeks ago before he touched you?

As for you, you believed yourself to be a girl who wouldn’t fall so easily for the first man who showed you any kind of affection.

From an adolescence of peers who never seemed to take notice of you to one filled with walkers and adults who were either dead or seldom your age, you learned how hard love, let alone any connection, is to come by. It has made you quite the perpetual daydreamer because of it. One with a heart and mind filled with fantasy worlds, creating what you lacked externally. It often made you see yourself as much younger than you were despite all you’ve been through. No regular person your age in the old world has probably escaped as many deaths and wannabe cowboy dictators as you have. Still, they probably knew what it was like to have a high school romance, or at least go to the movies with friends, and have graduated from well, anything. You were simply born too late and shoved into this new world too early to experience even half of it.

This upbringing has brought you up to believe yourself precocious, although— maybe you were already too old for that word now. No, you were, so maybe– sensible, realistic despite the overactive imagination; you could decipher between right and wrong, real versus fake. This is why, for as long as you could, you did not entertain any thoughts of Rick Grimes.

Other people would though, women mostly. But you did have your suspicions of others who thought the same— they just weren't as shameless. Those who were, could be found during lunch breaks from work on house porches; or laughing and whispering at community gatherings and at the back of town hall meetings. Basically any time or place they could turn into a gossip session, which was often. And it didn’t always have to do with Rick. It could be about any one of the men in town; or retelling funny moments to their friends or complaining about their co-workers. But anything of true, great interest always had to do with the community leaders. You wish you could say you were the exception to this interest, but hypocritically, you loved a good inside scoop, and luckily for you, you had a trustworthy way about you. Almost everyone who spoke to you or allowed you to sit with them and their friends for meals agreed: you were a intent, quiet listener making you the best kind of person to say things to without judgment; and people assumed you as shy, yet you loved to laugh which was great for boosting egos. They often treated you as a little sister in that way, as if the pleasure was all yours to get to hear their ramblings because they were either older or perceived themselves to be more sociable and experienced than you. You tried not to care too much about what they took you for. It was nice to feel trusted, even if people could be a little too mean or weird for your liking because no matter who it was, they made you feel as if you were watching television, and you missed television. They told you things from period mishaps– (it’s the apocalypse, there are a lot of free bleeding queens okay)— to which people in their workstations annoyed them most with very detailed explanations as to why and, of course, rumors or general talk about the leaders: who they thought each of them has slept with, if there seemed to be any fighting between them and what side they were taking, and obviously, anything that had to do with one of the guys. Some were downright obvious that one or the other was their type, while others might try to be more sly about it, always bringing whichever man it was up more than the others. But unless they were diehard Daryl girls, wanted to dominate Glenn, or had some military man, hot priest, or doctor kink for Abraham, Gabriel, or Siddiq, most of them apparently felt that Rick was the love of their lives. He was like a local celebrity. A band’s frontman.

“So, what about you?” One of your scavenging partners asked on the ride home. “Which one do you like?”

“They’re all attractive guys,” you say, keeping your eyes on the road. “But I don’t really think about them like that.” You feel a flush coming on. Crushes, or anything romantic, is a part of your internal world, not something you discuss aloud.

“Come on,” she prods. “You never join in. You just laugh at us for being delusional.”

“Whose us?” Rosita asks, her voice sharp, humorous, and not without judgment. “I don’t talk about that shit.” But secretly, she loved the drama as much as you and would have many questions for you later tonight about why you have yet to tell her of the town obsession of treating her friends like the cast of a reality show.

“I don’t laugh at you! I like it when you guys talk about that stuff.”

“But what I’m saying is that I didn’t let you ride shotgun this time so you can hold out again,” the girl jokes half-heartedly.

“What do you mean this time? I get to ride shotgun because I’m the one with the CDs.”

And it’s true, the only thing that cancelled out the silence of drive in moments where conversation ceased was your Oasis album playing in the background. Learning about the band was your new obsession. Much like listening to the crazy imaginations of the girls in town, you found the Gallagher brother rivalry riveting even if you only knew pieces of the story from the music, scraps of magazine articles, and by asking whoever in town happened to be a teen in the 90s. Thankfully you had hit the jackpot today though. One of the houses you visited was once occupied by a dad and daughter with an insane music collection in the living room and a smaller, more curated one in the girl’s room. After gathering what new music you wanted to try from downstairs, you also found some old issues of QuizFest in the girl’s room, filled with activities that were themed with shows you remember from when you were a kid, but the most important discovery— the find of all finds— was one of those Ultimate Guide, Complete Life Story magazines of none other than the band Oasis.

You would now probably know all of the drama between the brothers to tell a coherent story about the band’s history to anyone who wanted an escape from walker related events and farming talk. When you weren’t listening, that’s what people would come to you for: to borrow music, get recommendations, or to tell them a story. In all, you were getting the reputation of being the town’s music historian, meaning you usually used your knowledge to avoid talking about yourself. And it mostly worked.

Except for now.

“Well, if I had to guess,” the girl persists despite your silence, “I think it would be Rick.”

“What?” Noticing the incredulity in your tone, you calm your voice. Shrugging you say, “Why Rick? Everyone likes him.”

Rosita sends a look your way. It’s innocent enough, probably just showing that she is still listening on as she drives but you were refusing to look at anyone now to know for sure.

“Exactly,” the girl says. “He’s a classic knight in shining armor type. I feel like he’d talk you through it, which I think would be good for— someone like you.”

Your face is on fire, you can’t even speak properly. “I- first of all, what do you know about my experience?” you ask, the incredulous tone returning. But all you get as an answer is knowing snorts and chortles from the two women. Ouch. Nonetheless, you continue, “Second, you think shooting a guy in the head in front of his wife and the whole town is chivalrous?”

Oh—

That makes car goes quiet.

You know you made a mistake.

You didn’t mean it as crassly as you said it, and you did feel bad for saying it knowing that the situation was more difficult than you summed it up to be, but you didn’t apologize. All this talk about crushes and especially Rick made you embarrassed. It’s not that you didn't see what others saw anyway. Of course you noticed how nice Rick’s curls are, how he doesn’t have to use any product for them to look as they do; or those blue eyes and how when you get closer, they become that much more stark and crisp; or how good he was at talking to people, convincing them of things or simply just reassuring them as a friend; and that southern drawl that still sometimes catches you by surprise by sounding so pronounced at the end of certain words, making his voice that much more intoxicating. Of course you saw the appeal, but that didn’t mean you had a crush on him.

Right?

Maybe it doesn’t matter. You just felt you knew better. He was like a president. You know of them, and you believe in them, but you don’t get close to them. And it didn’t matter that he told Carl to personally deliver you a stereo he and Daryl found while out once. How he remembered how you liked music. How he told Carl to tell you this one was probably better than the old one you had, that it was louder. You only showed him your old stereo that once when he was helping you move. He was just a perceptive guy with a good memory. All leaders are like that.

Right?

Anyway, let’s get back to your crass… joke.

“Hilarious.” Rosita says and you hear the low contempt in her voice at your insensitivity.

“That was ages ago though,” the girl chimes in, saving you just a little, “and he did it to help her. He didn’t care about the mess he made. He save her. I’d say that’s pretty romantic.”

“Let’s not call that romantic,” Rosita scoffs, and despite the slight frustration, there was a quiet sadness in her voice at the memory. “That wasn’t love.”

“That was reckless, not romantic.” You agree. Partly because you truly do, but also in attempt to win back favor from your friend. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

But after that day, it was all you could think about.

The idea of a knight; a romantic; someone that would do anything for you, ruin his reputation for you; find gifts from the outside that he’d send is son to give to you. Maybe you did find it charming, idyllic.

These thoughts soared in your mind so much so that on one night when thinking about boys from books or your favorite artists wasn't enough during moments under your sheets when your back arched and your fingers trailed up your thighs, your mind switched from people you would never meet to him, to Rick. Your eyes scrunched tighter, and you tried to shake it away, telling yourself it was just the women in town and the talk in the car getting to you. But then you thought about how rich and hot pink his lips looked on a bright sun-burning day and how it would feel like flames firing inside of you if he kissed you with them.

Ideas like these went on for nearly a year now. You even started questioned if maybe you had always liked him, maybe you were always just like the other girls even though tried to not be. You had thought it made you respectful, realistic; after all, how could Rick be the love of your life if he was everyone’s? Wonderings like this became even worse and more confusing when Rosita had asked if you’d like to move in with her. Becoming closer with her meant being around the leaders more often, which meant coincidental encounters and conversations with Rick as well. Quickly, he wasn’t just that president or celebrity anymore who talked to you sometimes and got you that stereo that once. He was becoming a peer— at least in some ways. One who was curious about your interests as much as your opinions. But it’s not exactly like you were in the in-crowd now as some people assumed. You didn’t get to go to leader meetings, and as much as you knew Rosita must have been telling you more than others know, she couldn’t have been telling you everything. But you did see him more than other people now, when he and the leaders came over to the house or when Rosita was invited over to theirs and she’s tell you to come too. And now, with these thoughts spiraling, you can’t help but to look back at the at the times where Rick approached you, gave you all his attention no matter how small it was and asked you about what you were listening to or reading that week, letting you ramble. He was an older guy, yes, but he cared, he actually listened, and he didn’t make you feel like the childish little sister others do.

Sadly, you did become the fawn like you had told yourself you wouldn’t be. But you couldn’t stop picturing him when you closed your eyes, and in fact, it was nice to imagine someone to fall asleep with, to wake up to. It was just going be your secret. Part of your fantasy world. But then— it all caught up to you.

Through the sliver of the open door he saw you, fingers between folds, goading yourself on as you chanted his name in whispers.

And to your surprise, he encouraged it. No, he did so much more than that— he helped you, made you come; gave you your first orgasm and made you his like no one has before.

You loved it. You gave into it. Even if it was just one secret moment. It made you give into the idea that this would continue but of course, it didn’t. He hasn’t spoken to you in almost three weeks until—

“Woah-” you gasp, almost crashing into just the person as you exit your room.

“Sorry,” you both say in unison, holding onto each other's forearms before quickly letting go. Your arms cross over into your chest before dropping as you enter your room again, clearing the hallway, and his hands go behind his back. He’s still as unsteady as you are, his mouth is slightly open, thinking of what to say.

“Hi,” you whisper tentatively.

“Good morning,” he politely replies. His eyes now smile slightly as he nods to you. You don’t miss how the light emanating from your bright room makes them shine. And he doesn’t miss how the light shining behind your figure makes you, in your white cotton sundress, look like an absolute angel.

“Good morning,” you repeat, giggling slightly, not knowing what else to say.

“Good morning,” he says again, lost and as giddy as you are.

“Oh wait— is the leader’s meeting here today?” Rick starts to nod and answers yes as you continue to speak, “I totally forgot! I’m sorry. I know I should be gone by now.”

He shakes his head, “It’s fine. I was just going to the bathroom.”

“Here? Was someone in the one downstairs?”

“Just wanted to be away from everyone when they came. Daryl and I came early so we started talking and I just- we didn’t see eye to eye on something. I needed a minute.”

You nod. That seems to be your signature when to talk to him. You hated it honestly. Often over-analyzing your words, worrying you’ll sound immature or stutter in front of him. “I'm sorry,” you tell him sympathetically. For a moment there is only silence which makes you worry he will go away, so without thinking, you ask: “I know you’re busy but, if you need a moment, maybe you would like to come in here instead?”

Rick freezes but then, inevitably agrees. As he enters, you close the door and quickly go to shut off the low playing stereo and rehang some of the dresses on your chair in the closet— you had been getting ready for the day. Rick goes to sit on the chair after you empty it but you stop him. You sit on the vertical side of your bed and guesture Rick to sit in the spot next to you, closer to the headboard. You wanted to sit next to him.

Rick doesn’t question this, maybe he wanted to be as close to you as you had, so as he sits, your thighs touch. You try not to move too much at the first contact. Still, the heat that starts to burn inside you makes you realize how much you’ve craved this. Can two weeks feel like a lifetime? It’s like you haven’t felt him in ages.

“What were you playing today?” He asks and you realize you eyes went straight to the area where yours and Rick’s legs touched. You know he noticed but still you try to answer normally.

“Selena. Rosita loves her. It’s one of her most famous songs: Amor Prohibido.”

He nods. “I probably wouldn’t understand a bit of it,” he laughs.

He would probably remember the singer from the news if you gave more context but you don’t. There is a silence that follows until you ask, “So,” starting slowly, “what’s wrong? Is Daryl aright?”

He doesn’t answer. His mouth is open as if he’s deciding what to say, but nothing comes out, so you continue, “You know, nothing is ever right in the world when Rick and Daryl fight. It makes me sad.”

The joke makes those lines at the sides of his eyes appear— a quiet laugh. “Well you know I’d never want to make you sad. Especially not you.” You two exchange a light smile while that heat rises fast to your heart. “We’ll be fine,” he finally says, but then he goes quiet again. Rick seems unsure if he wants to continue. He even looks at the door, wonders if the others have shown up yet, but— he knows he doesn’t want to leave. And even more, he knows he shouldn’t after ignoring you like some teenage boy. He decides to tell you what’s happening: “Daryl wants us to bring new people in. You know how he’s always going out there. But I think it’s way too soon.”

You hum agreeingly, but at the same time, you understand Daryl. “I think he just likes to give people what he never used to have,” you suggest.

“I know,” he nods a bit annoyedly; “and that’s a nice way to put it, but you know him, when he has his mind set on somethin’ he can be so damn stubborn. It’s frustrating. He won’t compromise or listen to anything.”

Endearingly, you try to withhold a laugh, your lisp pursing. Not only because when he says anything, it actually sounds like anythang, but because Rick sounds like he’s describing himself and he doesn’t even realize it.

“And,” he adds, pausing for a moment before he continues, scratching his beard. It looks as if maybe he shouldn’t tell you what he’s about to. His head hangs low to say: This is not information for everyone to know, okay? But the last time he went out there with Glenn, the reason Glenn’s arm is in a sling right now, is because they met a group, tried to bring them back and before they could make it even close to home, the group fought ‘em, tried to steal what they scavenged, and almost kill Glenn.”

You widen your eyes at the statement. You actually already knew this from Rosita, but that will stay between you two. All you feel is humbled that he felt he share it with you, despite it being a dark thing. It was a close call. Rick was right for being very cautious right now. “Wow,” is all you can get in before he speaks again.

“Imagine if we lost him. Fought this war with his wife and unborn baby at the time for nothing? So he couldn’t even meet him?” Rick shakes his head, and you notice his foot tapping lightly, making his knee bounce. This had happened a month ago now but it was obviously affecting him. “It was reckless and I told him that. That right now we need to be focusing on what’s inside these walls. People have only just started getting back to being comfortable now; to feeling like this is a home.”

Your eyes remain wide, “We did so much rebuilding you.”

“We did complete rebuilding.” He corrects, though not rudely. Shaking his head, he goes back to talking about Daryl: “I think I made it seem like what happened to Glenn was his fault. So not only were we arguing but I must’ve hurt him,” Rick realizes, “and now he definitely won’t be back today— maybe not even until next week.”

A silence hangs in the air after this; it seems he finished. Now, you know you should speak, but as the silence continues, you grow more unsure of what to say. Issues like these are things you’ve never dealt with. You didn’t want to say something stereotypical.

“I’m sorry I’m putting all this on you.”

“No, no,” you quickly console, trying to think. “Um, well,” you say, starting unsteadily, “this is probably going to sound stupid and not helpful. I don’t even remember the exact context or what was truly said so it might not make any sense either but, do you remember when I had my Oasis obsession? Earlier this year?”

“I do,” he laughs, turning his head over to your music table. His eyes scan any of the visible album titles to see if he can find it, but the print on most of them are too small. He turns back to you as you continue:

“This is going to sound a little far off but I think you and Daryl are like Liam and Noel.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Didn’t those two hate each other?”

“I mean, yes— but it’s much more complicated than that to me— but no, I don’t mean in that way. It just that there is this quote Noel says that I don’t remember exactly, but I really liked: he said that even though he wrote the music and Liam did the singing that Liam meant the words just as much as Noel did because they’re brothers and he wrote them. I thought that was beautiful, but…” you trail off.

He stays silent, trying to give you space to find your words but you feel like you’ve gone too far. It’s all pretty convoluted and not a true comparison to what’s going on that you’re even confusing yourself a little. “I think what I mean is that even though they have their different roles, they still feel very similar things and believe in the same purpose. I think that’s like you and Daryl. You two are so similar yet so different. But there’s still a binding force that always brings the two of you together. So, like I’m sure you already know and I didn’t even need to tell you, but you two will be okay. You two have different ways of doing things, but the music or the life you’re trying to create in Alexandria still has the same meaning to the both of you.” You laugh small and breathily as you end. “That probably didn’t make sense.”

Rick smiles to himself. “I didn’t get that first bit, with the quote, but no… that made a lot of sense to me.” He nods toward you and you return his smile. “You’re so bright. You know that? Not everyone knows how to stitch things together like that the way you do.”

This makes you feel good. Rick thought you were smart. You know you should say thank you, but instead, something else comes out: “May I, may I kiss you?”

“Yes,” he answers, almost stuttering it out, a hint of hesitation before he did, but he nods so kindly, so reassuringly as he tells you again: “yes.”

Your fingers touch his lower cheeks lightly, feeling the bristles of his beard. You’re slow, and careful, and scared. Your fingers linger on his jaw for a moment until they completely caress his right cheek and then you move in, swiftly— worried you’ll lose your confidence, worried he’ll change his mind. You catch his lower lip and seal the kiss. Your lips are locked for a few seconds until you retreat. It was nice, and exciting, but short. You knew you could have put your tongue in his mouth. You believe he would have let you because you remember when he did it last time, but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself by doing it wrong and once again reminding him how much you don’t know. But you’re sure giving him a grade school kiss like this one was enough of a reminder.

Your eyes roll down, chin low. Your cheeks are on fire and your hands do not know where to go so you start fiddling with the hem of your dress and then you laugh. You were trying to be courageous this time, and you were, but you also weren’t.

Rick grabs your left hand, holding it at the end of your thigh, “I liked that,” he says softly.

“You did?” You ask as softly as he, eyes meeting his.

A short, airy snicker comes out, “Mhm,” he hums, giving you a closed-mouth smile. He found you simply adorable.

“Can I… try it again?”

Rick pulls on your forearm, attempting to bring you closer to him. “Yeah,” he nods, voice gentle. “Do you want me to help?”

You nod before you speak, happily accepting, “Yes.”

He puts your hands on his shoulders. One of his grabs onto your waist and the other holds you lightly under your chin, adjusting your head to meet his lips. The first kiss he places holds just for a couple of moments as the one you gave him did, gentle but packed with longing. The next two are slow, pretty pecks that already have you melting at his touch, lips agape waiting for the next one. The fourth is the one where he brings his tongue into your mouth, carefully bringing it in quarter by quarter. He tastes the top of your mouth and tongue and you feel him as he slowly starts to explore how far you may like to go, but truly you become stagnant other than your hands that press into his shoulder. Luckily, Rick either doesn’t notice your hesitation or is already silently helping you as he takes the lead, pulling you closer by the hips and slipping his tongue in and out of your mouth to kiss you more. It makes you smile— the excitement of your first make-out session. You giggle, and then it makes him smile too and your teeth slightly bump into each other. Accidently you nip his lip because of it, making you pull back.

Your fingers hover over your lips as you impart a quiet apology but Rick just shakes his head giving you another quick kiss instead. He starts to move back on your bed, back pressed again the headboard and he tells you quietly, “Come here.”

You get up and sit higher up on the bed as well, calves folded under your thighs. He takes one of your legs and starts to put it over his as he asks, “Is this okay?”

You nod, vigor growing as you do it now, thrilled to sit on his lap. Your dress bunches around your hips and the tops of your thighs. You move closer to press your chest into his and you kiss him first again, another small one but with intent as you look at him afterward, feeling the scratch of his beard on your fingertips as you smile at him, in awe that this is happening.

“You want to try this time?”

“Uh,” he means you put your tongue in his mouth this time, but you’re afraid to do it wrong but you know you want to say yes so you do, “Yes, okay.”

So he brings you in again and you kiss him. He mouth opens a little and you try to bring your tongue in slightly but you teeth clash. “Sorry,” and quickly he responds that it’s okay and rubs your cheek, telling you to just open your mouth a little wider, no teeth, let your tongue go on top of his.

You try it. Your tongues meet again, licking each other tips before you slowing press in more, your chest touching his as you try to close the gap.

Rick starts slowly rocking your hips against his and he takes control of the kiss again. It helps you not think, you like it. And you like the feeling of that incoming tight bulge starting to form under his jeans, but then you let go. “Wait,” you say, “I like this.” You pause for a moment, confusing him more as to why you stopped. “But… there is something I wanted to ask you.”

“Okay,” his hand stay fixed on your hips and waist, rubbing soothily, “What it is?”

Another pause. “I feel nervous,” you whisper.

“You have no reason to be, sweetheart. You can ask me anything.”

You laugh, smiling as you look off to the side. Anythang.

He smiles too, although unknowingly to what you found funny. His head tilts as he tries to find your gaze and turn it towards him again.

“Well, the last time we were together here you taught me how to do something. You taught me how to pleasure myself better so,” you stutter, “I want to pleasure you. If that’s okay. And I was wondering if you’d teach me how- to touch you here.” You remove yourself from straddling him and point in the direction of his cock.

Instantly he feels a stir of his already hardening dick.

This is not how he expected things to go this time. Or truly, he didn’t expect any of this at all, but when you asked to kiss him he decided he would be gentle, more giving. It felt like you wanted him to take again, the exact thing he was trying not to do. “I feel like I took advantage of you last time.”

“Rick…” you shake your head. “I’m the one who didn’t close the door all the way. You asked if it was okay and then you asked if you could go faster. I said yes to everything…” You start to worry— is he second guessing everything now?—“I feel maybe we remember this differently.” You bow your head again now. Feeling ashamed, wondering if he did.

Rick places one hand on your knee to comfort you although he still says, “It’s just that I’ve never done something like this before.” His thumb sways on your skin. “I just don’t want you to end up feeling like you’re wasting your time. Your first times.”

You’re surprised, “It’s so funny how you can be so self-assured in front of a crowd and now you don’t think you’re good enough.” You take his hand and press it towards your chest. Your heart was racing. “I like you. So much.” You swallow as he says your name softly, realizing how fast your heart was going. “No one in town is truly ever mean to me or anything, and Rosita has been so kind with letting me move in with her and we talk and its nice but, you know— she has her flings and her friendships that are separate from mine and everyone just always seems like they have their person and I just don’t. I don’t have my person, or any person.” You remove your hands from your chest but Rick still holds onto it, squeezing your hand as you start speaking again. “You’re kind, Rick, and you make me excited, and you remember things about me… “ If your face could get any hotter, it does, “And, well, you’re very handsome. If you could teach me again, I would like that.”

God… Rick was trying to be a romantic yet you were so adamant on getting him off. He laughed inwardly, shaking his head, deciding that the best way to handle this situation— and make up for some of his guilt as he was trying to— would be to give you the thing you say you want and not what he thinks you want. Suppose that’s one for widower’s wisdom.

Decidedly, Rick gets up from the bed, giving you a once over, still admiring how adorable, and how sexy, you look to him with your feet under your lap, hands on your knees as you look up at him from the bed and your white dress. He starts undoing his shirt buttons. “Remember when I did this the first time?”

A smirk came on, there’s the Rick you remember. Blue eyes intense, and voice getting cocky as he gets ready to give you what you need, what he knows you only want from him.

“Yes,” you say quiet yet with budding excitement. You start going for the hem of your dress, “Should I start taking this off too?”

“Mm, stay like that.” He’s taking off his belt. “Thought you looked beautiful in it right when I saw you.”

Your thighs squeeze together slightly. Rick Grimes was undressing before you, for you, and calling you smart and beautiful all the while.

As Rick lowers his boxers, his cock springs up. He returns to his spot on the bed, back leaning against the headboard. All of a sudden he seems to truly recognize that he is the only one exposed. He would tell you what to do, guide you, but in a small way, in a way you probably didn’t realize, you were in control. It seems that each time this happens— although it’s only been twice— and each time he talks to you— which has been plenty— you steal a little more of Rick’s heart and he just can’t stop it.

“So,” he clears his throat, your eager eyes on his cock making him twitch, “you usually just wrap your hand around, start from the base and keep pumping up.” He shakes his head, “there’s not too much too it but it’s best to keep your hand light at the start, you—”

You nod quickly, “May I?”

As he nods back you, “Yes.” And as he says it you’re already licking your hand.

“Is it okay if I spit? That helps right? Or is that nasty to you?”

He’s caught off guard, “No, no, that helps.”

So you do and you place your hand lightly at the base as he said and you start to pump. Instantly, he lets out a gasp, and the next noises that follow are repressed grunts and groans. You want to ask him to stop doing that but you’re a little scared to speak up that way just yet and you’re too engrossed in how you can see the light veins of green and blue on him and how he’s so red at the tip. It was honestly exciting. Just this, touching him with your hand, staring at his member and watching him twitch as his mouth opens to pant lightly. It still felt unreal but you liked it and you were happy to learn. You start to pump him more towards the top, placing your thumb on his slit- pressing in. His abs clench at that. You push in a little harder and you squeeze your fist around him a little— testing it out to see what happens—and he groans, unadulterated this time, “oh, fuck.”

The heel of your foot that’s under your lap pushes into your center at that.

You start pumping faster. “Am I doing good, Rick?”

Hearing your voice sets him off, “Fuck, sweetheart. Yes.” He’s honestly choking out each of his words, he didn’t expect to get so turned on by all of this. He realizes the last time he had sex was with you that first time, and before that… he can’t even remember. “You’re doing an amazing job.”

As you pump, you start to slow down, only doing it shallowly towards his base. You’re feeling confident and you kiss the side of him, licking a fat stripe up to the top and then you pump him fully again.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he breathes out. He wants to tell you to slow down but it comes out of nowhere, he stutters before he can even speak. An unintelligible groan mixed with a moan comes out abrupt and louder than he intends and white spurts of liquid come out.

You go faster for a few moments, then start to slow down, a little unsure of what is best to do, but you notice when you start squeezing him a little more as you continue to pump up and more whiteness fall out from inside of him.

“Did I, make you come?”

“Yeah,” he says, huffing.

“I did?” your cheekbones rise as you ask with awe— it was another first for the books.

Rick’s tries to let his embarrassment fade, he can tell you were just excited about it, but still, he looks down and to the side, avoiding direct eye contact— almost like you typically would. You peer at him, almost nervously because of it. Rick is usually the confident one. “Doesn’t always happen that fast,” he explains.

“Well before a month ago I didn’t know how to make myself come so I wouldn’t know,” you say with self-deprecating assurance. You had heard from the girls in town that it was easier to make men orgasm. You already had it in your head as something not to judge. You wonder how hard he must have been restraining himself the first time he placed himself inside you, or if it just happened to be easier for him that time around. “I didn’t expect I could do it or anything really. I thought it was…” you smile while giggling, “interesting.”

“A good interesting I hope.”

“Very,” you assure. “I liked it.” You kiss his cheek as you take some wipes that are by your night stand and you start cleaning him up. He doesn’t tell you that you don’t have to; he helps along with you.

“You sure you’ve never done any of this before?”

You shake your head. “I just read fiction books.”

He smiles to himself, a quiet snort of laughter leaving his nose. You always surprise him.

When you two are done cleaning, he puts his boxers back on. Quickly, he is on the bed again and starts to kissing you. Rick holds your shoulder and pushes you down. Finally, it’s time for his redemption, he feels. It was your turn to be pleasured. Just like he wanted to do from the beginning.

Rick kisses down your neck to your collarbone, and the parts of your exposed chest and he pushes your dress up past your hips. His lips move back up to yours, kissing you more before saying, “I really wanna show you something sweetheart.” He presses his thumb into your clit over your underwear. “Can I kiss you down there? Have you ever had that before?”

You shake your head slowly, eyes wide. “I-” you start nodding your head, “-I would really like that.” And in such a small voice you add, “Please.”

Rick kisses your cheek. Deep and softly he breathlessly tells you, “I would love to.”

Rick moves his head lower and gives you slow kisses over your underwear from your mound to the end of your lips. He starts to drag your panties over your legs and once they’re gone he kisses up your thighs. Then his nose rubs and sways ever so lightly on your lips. He breathes in and it makes you shutter. Your heart is going crazy again. Finally, he licks upward. One long and languid stripe ending with a kiss to your clit and then he truly begins.

Tongues are wet and sticky and everything you ever dreamed of. Your eyes roll back instantly from that first lick and kiss. You remember a time when you started touching yourself that you used to never think of receiving oral. You thought it was scary, nasty, that you wouldn’t like it until the moment you thought about it as a million kisses on your most sensitive lips, or someone liking you so much that they’d get drenched by your wetness just to touch you, to taste you. After that, you thought about it all the time and now it was finally happening– someone needing you so much they just had to know what you taste like. Here he was: kissing, licking, sucking, not caring about how he looks but only how you feel— you now knew what it was like to be desired.

Rick presses his tongue flat on your clit, rubbing deep circles. His eyes are open, looking up at how your mouth opens wider and wider. You let out little whimpers, enamored by his tongue, still deciding if you like the scratch of his beard, but your eyes stay glued to the ceiling, scared to look at the scene below.

He gives you kitten licks in between speaking, “Look down. Don’t miss your first time.”

Your eyes go down slowly, watching as he gives open mouth kisses to your clit and right lip, tilting his head. He stays there for a moment, hearing your short and breathy pants, kissing and licking your clit and lower lips like they were the ones above your chin. His eye contact sends bursts of sticky wet fluid down your hole and you release a whimpered moan, they’re always sp short and soft and high pitched. He can tell you like it but he can also see you’re nervous. You don’t trust yourself, you know it, and he’s starting to realize it too. You’re scared of completely letting go.

He peppers kisses to your clit before moving upward, his tongue rolling and mouth kissing from your lower stomach to your breasts till his face reaches yours again. “No one’s here,” he tells you. He then kisses your lips allowing you to taste yourself for the first time. “Relax,” he whispers, rolling out each syllable. He holds your chin with one hand while he inserts a finger into your hole with the other, his pointer is instantly drenched and you shudder at the feeling. His single calloused finger reminds you of the time he was last inside you. He pumps slowly, looking into your eyes as he speaks, “Don’t think about who could come downstairs.”

“What if Rosita or Daryl come back?”

“What if?” He says it so simply as if he’s ready for everyone to know. Truly, that would be an issue, but right now it was not about him and it was completely about you; he wanted to give. It was short-sighted, reckless, yes, but… you were just so pretty, so bright, so insightful, and he felt like he needed to make up for all the taking he did last time, of your first time. Rosita had went to run after Daryl, hopefully no one was here anyway. But again, he didn’t care. It didn’t matter. “Lay back,” he gently commands, “forget what I said before- close your eyes. Just give in to it. Like I’m the only one who's here.”

Rick licks zig zag stripes down your slit and then he decides to insert his tongue in your hole. He goes as deep as his tongue allows, collecting your wetness and trying to swallow it in moments when he turns back to kissing. He his nose is brushing and rubbing up against your clit as he sucks wetness from down below and you start letting out stringy moans you can’t control. Soft, pretty, and continuous, “uh, ah, uh, uh” that turn into “sorry, I’m sorry.” You’re still self-conscious about your own noises. This was still only the second time you’ve heard the sounds you make when someone else is fucking you.

But Rick shushes you. Giving small kisses to your clit as he looks up at you, seeing your scrunched eyes and open mouth. “I like knowing you like it, pretty girl. I like all those pretty sounds you’re making.”

Your pussy tightens around nothing at that phrase.

“Keep going. You don’t have to be shy.” He grabs your chin and you look down at him. His beard is wet. “We’ve already made a mess anyway.”

He starts kissing your labias, licking up wetness when you decide to ask, nervously, “Can you make sounds too?”

Instantly, Rick goes again to kiss your clit, humming into it as he sucks. Breathing against you he says, “Want me to tell you I like it, sweetheart?” His tongue slides down again, tongue reaching into your hole and he moans into your pussy.

Your back arches and you mewl, you could almost scream.

That’s it, he thinks. Rick keeps humming and groaning into you now. His voice is so seductive. “I love tasting your pussy, baby.”

You couldn’t breathe.

Rick starts rubbing your clit with his thumb and going fast with his tongue in your hole “My bright, pretty girl gonna come for me? Hm?”

“Oh, Rick, I want to. Please, Rick.”

Rick starts to go faster and your brain turns to mush. Only noises coming out and when he stops his tongue movements to say something more you push his head down. “Sorry,” you say. You’ve never been forceful before but he says nothing, just continues going down on you and taking his free hand to place it over his, gesturing that he wants your hands in his hair. You tug on his curls and he grunts into you. You start chanting his name and then he switches to placing his lips on your clit and putting two fingers in your pussy. It reminded you of the first time but instead of your three fingers they were two of his and it felt so much better than you ever knew before, better than you could ever do it yourself. It sets you off. Your eyes shut tighter if they could. “Rick! Oh my god,” you moan and then again and again and then you come.

Rick laps at your cunt, vigorously trying to wipe you clean. He makes it look like it will be the last and only time. It makes you worry but at the same time he looks so sexy like that; needy for you even after you finished.

He takes your wipes and cleans his lips before cleaning you up as you did for him. He kisses you thighs and your lips and your cheeks as he continues. “You did such a good job,” he says. “You always do.”

You’re filled with pride at that. “Thank you.” Then worry sets in. You realize how public you’ve made everything. “Did I just ruin your life?”

He laughs while caressing your thigh. That anxious expression of yours that he just got rid of returns after all the work he did.

“I’m gonna check downstairs. Okay? If they’re there, they’re there.” You nod. We already made a mess anyway, you remember him saying. “They might want to start the meeting when I go down so, whatever happens, happens alright? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Your eyes are still nervous, but it’s all too late anyway. “Okay,” you respond.

“Okay,” he says back, kissing you once more. As he dresses himself again, he tells you, “I promise I won’t wait two weeks to see you again.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too,” he says as a send off and goes into the bathroom to clean his face.

When he reaches the living room, there is no one. Rick is thankful but confused.

As he nears the coffee table there is a sheet of yellow lined legal pad with a talkie next to it.

Call when you’re done, it reads.

“Rosita?” He questions into the device. Who else could it have been, right?

He can almost hear the grin on her face. “They should start calling you Reckless Rick for all the agony you put these Alexandria girls through.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “There’s just something about that stupid hair cowboy accent, I guess.”

Before he can respond, telling her that it’s absurd to think of him as a playboy, that he was far from it, she continues:

“So, fucking my roommate? You’re glad Glenn and Maggie called everyone over to theirs instead. Hershel took his first steps while you were teaching someone else how to take theirs.”

She unpressed the button to suppress her laughter. “Just get over here,” she concludes, putting down the walkie and going back to meet the rest of the group with a perfect poker face. She tells everyone Rick will be here shortly.

Oh, Alexandria’s leader and her new little best friend who has been hearing the townswomen’s fantasies of him for years: Reckless Rick and his reckless romantic girl.

Rosita would give you so much shit for this when she gets home.

[vrtvyg]

their bedroom headcannons!!

Soap: Bisexual switch. the type to have a threesome. has a decent amount of experience. that doesn't mean he's some god at sex though, can be too pushy at times, being younger, his sex drive is still pretty fucking high. there isn't a day that goes by without him trying to get some. you probably have to push his hand off of your thigh multiple times a day. in public. definitely a "let's go to the bathroom." kinda guy. he's an amazing top, good at touching you where you need and going at your pace, pretty confident in that area. same with bottoming, except he's extremely bratty, to the point where he's more genuinely pissing you off than turning you on. if he's going to bottom he has to be forced into the position. pinned to the floor, using whatever you can to tie his arms behind his back (probably yours or his belt), and keeping his face against the floor with your hand gripping the back of his neck. even then he's still bratty, taunting you in between whorish moans.

Ghost: Unidentified top. prefers women, very rarely finds a man he's interested in. honestly rare to find ANYONE he's interested in. but when he does, it takes awhile to open up enough to do much sexual. and when he does he's usually in control, hates giving up the upper hand, not just because he's used to being the masked lieutenant, but because of his past traumas. and it's not like he has a meltdown everytime you TRY, it's more like a simply "nah" and moves on.... BUT, if he does agree to let you be on top, he's going to be on his back, legs over your hips, making sure you do it EXACTLY how he wants, and how he's comfortable. sometimes it'll be slow, other times he'll tell you to go quick. he's not the most vocal, either. I imaging it's more quiet grunts and small groans, telling you what he likes and that you're doing good, making him feel good.

Price: Doesn't care about gender, not too picky. Will NOT be letting you fuck him. he'll let you ride, order him around, hell, he'll even let you edge him. but he's not letting you do him. it's not some manly pride thing, just isn't into it. doesn't feel good to him. though he WILL let you fuck his thighs, as a reward. doesn't feel much from it, but loves to watch you desperately thrust into his thighs like it were his hole. always treats you amazing. makes you feel good. is usually gentle, praises the fuck outta ya. and similar to ghost, isn't very loud. soft grunts and an occasional moan. might get TOO into it and stop talking completely.

Gaz: Fucking gorgeous man. whether he wants to rop or bottom, he's going to look great doing it. probably sounds the prettiest, not as loud as Soap but definitely loud. He'd probably like being on his knees, whether it's giving you head, getting fucked, or just kneeling to kneel. he eats that shit up. very loving and affectionate during it, not one for degrading. likes to hold your hand when he's the one giving. definitely ALWAYS starts with a sloppy make-out session.

Graves: Fucking hates being fucked. (he loves it, but will threaten to send his shadows after you if you bring it up.) He likes to top, of course, who doesn't love sticking their dick into something. He let's out the most pathetic moans, trying to cover them with grunts or coughs. almost slapped you when you teased him about how loud he is, denied it profusely. (you recorded him taking your dick, just so he could hear himself. he definitely jerks off to it when he's on base.) He can be a bit too rough when topping, definitely has some sort of thing for powerplay, wants you to call him by his rank. (almost cried when you made him do the same. good crying, of course.) is affectionate afterwards, but from a distance. will be on the opposite side of the bed, demanding you scratch his back, but stay over there. he's too hot to cuddle right now. but he still loves you. but from a distance.

König: Honestly, he seems like the type to be really cocky going into it, then gets really embarrassed when you have to move his hand to the right place constantly. If he's into men, (this is a male reader page, of course he is.) he's a less confident, dated mostly women in his younger year, very reluctant to give you a hand job, let alone head. but with some pushy encouragement he'll take the tip into his mouth, face flushed the whole time. probably keeps his hood on during it, gets embarrassed if you look at him while he's sucking. probably won't let you cum in his mouth, thinks it's gross. (spits aggressively when you do it anyways.) He prefers to be the one doing the fucking, but if you somehow convince him to switch, he wants to do it in a spooning position, too embarrassed to be on his knees or back. going to be more grinding than fucking him. definitely a whiner.

Bonus: adding onto bratty Soap, if you praise him, instead of punishing him, he'll slowly melt into being more manageable. more quiet, nodding along to whatever you're saying, pushing back against you for more, instead of mocking your every move.

"Silly boy Johnny, good boy's aren't supposed to bite back. be good for me, kay? perfect..." He'll shut the fuck up and simply nod.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 44 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley swallows his pride and seeks out a conversation with Admiral Simpson, but he's surprised by the response he gets. You keep everyone on their toes, and you do it so effortlessly, Bradley knows it's time to go shopping. And he uses Skittles as the perfect cover.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

When Bradley parked at work a little early on Monday, he sat in the Bronco for a few extra minutes. He had just witnessed you and Noah making breakfast together, and it was making it really hard to be away from you right now. When he walked into the kitchen, you were brewing coffee and singing the dinosaur song with his son while the two of you spread that weird avocado stuff that you liked so much on some toast. He had started to love it, too, and Noah would eat anything you made. 

He removed his aviators and pinched the bridge of his nose. There was so much he wanted to get done this week, including looking at a few engagement rings, but he knew better than to make any sort of excuses to get some time alone. That had nearly backfired on him when he went to get Skittles. He was going to have to get creative somehow.

When he pulled out his phone to call the animal shelter about getting Skittles' cast removed, he froze. Across the parking lot, Nat and Javy were both getting out of his car. "Interesting," he muttered to himself as he watched his best friend groping their coworker, and he grimaced. He'd already seen too much. 

"Hello, this is the San Diego shelter. How can I help you?"

Bradley nearly dropped his phone; he'd forgotten he was making the call. "Yeah, hi. I need to schedule an appointment to have my dog's cast removed?"

"Oh! Are you talking about the Yorkie?"

He smiled as he climbed out onto the already hot pavement. "Yeah. Skittles. I'm hoping she has sufficiently healed."

"Why don't you stop in on Wednesday and we can check her out."

"Sounds good, thanks," he replied, following Nat and Javy at a very conservative distance. But apparently he wasn't cautious enough. 

"So," Nat sighed once Bradley joined her in the hangar, "you saw Javy and I in the parking lot." It wasn't a question, so he decided to just nod and roll his eyes in response. "Oh, come on, Rooster. I'm just having some fun."

"Look at him," Bradley muttered, glancing to where the man in question was smiling at Nat. "Are you serious right now? You want to make him cry or something?"

Now she was the one rolling her eyes. "I'm not taking advice from you. You're historically terrible at dating."

"I'm doing a pretty good job now," he said, smiling as he thought about you.

"You can't even get Cyclone off your girl."

Bradley covered his face with one big palm. "You noticed that?"

Nat laughed. "Everyone at the botanic gardens on Saturday night noticed that."

"Fuck," he groaned. "If she wasn't so young and so fucking hot, I wouldn't be about to embarrass myself by trying to get him to let me fly in the air show."

She just shook her head as she reached for her helmet and muttered, "Oh, cry me a river."

"Hey." Bradley turned just in time to see Javy greeting the two of them like a puppy looking for Nat's attention. He was honestly worse than Skittles at the moment. "The guys are talking about a beach day this weekend. You know, since the summer is ending."

"We don't need to do another beach day. We live in San Diego," Nat replied as she sipped the coffee she wasn't supposed to have inside the hangar. "It's the same season all year round."

Javy laughed like she was a comedian, and Bradley looked back and forth between the two of them, completely baffled by this dynamic. There's no way you and he made a couple this wild. 

"Yeah, but it's still the end of August," Javy said, now smiling at Nat as if she was the most adorable thing in the world. "Rooster, you can bring your girl and your kid. It'll be fun."

"You know what," he replied, "I think I'll go if Nat goes."

Then Bradley strolled away as they started arguing, because he saw Admiral Simpson on his way to the tower. He just needed to get Cyclone alone for a few minutes, swallow his pride, and try to head Jake off for the air show. The opportunity arose after lunch when Bradley caught him checking his phone outside the rec room door.

"Admiral Simpson, sir," he greeted before grinding his back teeth while he thought about you. "May I have a word?"

Cyclone glanced up before pocketing his phone, a look of vague amusement on his face. "Lieutenant. What can I do for you?"

"It's about the upcoming air show. Sir. I was hoping you could tell me if you'd made selections regarding who would be flying in it."

His look of amusement grew. "I have not. I believe that was on my agenda for today or tomorrow." He paused before adding, "I've been meaning to thank you for that glass of bourbon on Saturday night. Woodford Reserve is one of my favorites."

Bradley remained unflinching. Although he had no idea what Admiral Simpson was talking about, he thought it better to simply agree with him. "Yes. The Woodford Reserve." 

He nearly took a step backwards when the other man started laughing. "You'll have to thank your girlfriend for me, too. And I'm assuming the reason you're here is because you want to fly in the air show?"

"Yes...sir," Bradley replied slowly, feeling very off balance now that Cyclone was being so agreeable. 

Still chuckling, he said, "I'll see what I can do," before turning and walking away. 

Once he was out of earshot, Bradley pushed through the door to the rec room as he muttered, "What the fuck was that?"

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

It was almost fun for you to pick Noah up from daycare now. Not that you would ever admit that out loud. But the enjoyment you found in the way Casey pouted at you was a bit of a guilty pleasure, and besides, you got to have Noah greet you like you were the most exciting and interesting person in the world.

"Mommy!" he called out as he ran across the lobby and into your arms. "Guess what my craft is!"

"A dinosaur?" you asked as you shot an extremely fake smile at Casey before heading outside.

"Nope."

"A... dog? Did you make Skittles?" you asked as you put him in your car.

"Nope."

"The solar system?"

"Nope."

"Hmm. Will you give me a hint?" you asked, brushing his soft curls away from his forehead and giving him a kiss. But he was already unzipping his bag and pulling out his newest painting. There was a big, light blue shape that looked like it could have been Bradley's Bronco along with a man who appeared to be sporting a mustache. "Is that Daddy?"

"Yes!"

Then you noticed a little brown blob. "Is that Skittles?"

"Yes! She's his best friend!"

You laughed, because Noah wasn't wrong. Skittles seemed to love Bradley the most, and as much as he tried to fight it, the dog won him over. "She is," you agreed before buckling him in. "She's his best friend besides Aunt Natasha."

Noah shook his head. "She doesn't count, because she's an Aunt."

"Right, right," you said, not wanting to fight his childhood logic when Skittles wasn't even a human. "You're completely right. Should we go home?"

You started singing the dinosaur song as you drove, and because of a detour, you had to drive past the park where Meredith had chased you down. A shiver rippled through your body as you remembered falling and scraping up your arm in your haste to get Noah safely in your car. You hated coming home this way. There was a reason you never did it.

"Mommy, why did you stop singing?"

You glanced in the mirror at Noah's face. "Sorry! Where were we? The part about how the dinosaur stomp, stomp, stomps?"

Bradley was already home when you pulled into the driveway, and you found him dozed off on the couch with Skittles curled up on his chest. Two seconds later, he was jolting awake with the dog in his hand as Noah ran for him. "Daddy! I made you! Out of paint!"

"Cool," Bradley told him, pulling Noah onto his broad chest as well. "And how's Mommy?" he asked, his voice a little raspier just for you. "How was your day, Princess?"

You shook off the last remaining thoughts of Casey and Meredith as you leaned down to kiss him. "Pretty good." He chased your lips for more, but his arms were too full of Noah and Skittles for him to be able to reach for you. "Looks like you're still tired from the weekend," you said with a wink.

"I had a nice conversation with Cyclone today." 

"Oh? About what?" you asked as you started to head to the kitchen to make dinner. 

His expression remained completely neutral as he told you, "Bourbon. Woodford Reserve, to be specific." When you said nothing, he added, "We can chat about it later."

So you made spaghetti, knowing you'd been found out. You had been tipsy on Saturday night at the retirement party, but you were pretty sure you remembered what you did. Probably. You hoped Bradley wasn't mad at you over it, but he seemed to be in a good mood as he ate dinner and offered to give Noah a bath while you walked Skittles. 

She was stubborn for you at first, plopping down on the front porch and whimpering for Bradley while you tugged gently on her leash. "Come on. You're making me look bad! You were my idea. Mine and Noah's." When she remained in her spot, you had to reach into your pocket and say, "Treat?" That did the trick, and you got her to take a slow lap around the block with you while you broke a milkbone into little bites and gave it to her. 

When you returned home, Skittles bounded into the house to get to Bradley where he was sitting on the bathroom floor, looking comically enormous with Noah's rubber duck in his hand. You stood in the doorway and watched him automatically reach down to pet the little pup, taking caution with her casted leg while he rinsed the shampoo out of Noah's hair. 

"You want to go to the beach this weekend, Bub?" he asked softly. "With Aunt Natasha?"

"Can Skittles come?" Noah asked, and you watched Bradley place a soft kiss on his wet forehead that left you reeling. Suddenly you couldn't wait for Noah to be in bed so you could have him all to yourself. 

"Maybe. If she gets her cast off on Wednesday," he replied softly as the dog fully plopped down with her head on his thigh. 

"Daddy?" you asked from your spot in the doorway. It was almost a whine, and when he looked up at you, you were certain he knew what you were thinking about by the little smirk on his lips.

He reached into the tub to drain the water as he asked, "Do you need some attention?"

You just nodded, still in your scrubs from work, but you felt too warm now as you pressed your thighs together. "Yes."

"Fifteen minutes, and then you can have it," he replied with an edge to his voice. "Can you wait that long?"

"I can try," you murmured before you turned to go into Noah's room and get his dinosaur pajamas ready. Anything to expedite bedtime. You listened while Bradley took his time reading three stories, and then you kissed Noah's forehead before you tried to pull Bradley toward the hallway.

He chuckled and whispered, "I'll meet you on the couch."

"Oooh, the couch," you said before running from the room. Before you could even decide what you wanted to do, Bradley was behind you wrapping his arms around your waist and tickling your neck with his mustache.

"I kind of miss those nights when I would help you study."

You moaned softly. "Anatomy really is your specialty."

You felt him pull his right hand away from your body, but before you could complain, it reappeared in front of you with a bag of Skittles on his palm. When you spun in his arms and kissed him, you whispered, "You're so sweet."

Bradley lifted you up and took you the few steps to the couch where you settled in straddling his lap while you opened your candy. "If you're this excited about something I picked up at the gas station, I wonder what you'll do if I buy you something a little more expensive."

You met his soft eyes and leaned in to kiss him. "How much more expensive are we talking?" you asked, treating him to the orange Skittle you pulled out of the bag. He parted his lips and you slipped it between them, watching his jaw work as he chewed it up. 

"A lot more expensive," he replied as you ate three candies. "Hey, this is a 50/50 relationship here, Princess."

You shoved a small handful into his mouth and kissed his cheeks as he sputtered and chewed. "I'll share everything I have with you. Too bad I don't have much."

Bradley swallowed down the treat and reached for your free hand. "You give me everything I need. Everything I want, too."

You basked in the warmth of his words as your eyes closed, and a welcome heat crept into your cheeks. "I love you."

"Then I think you'll love what I'm planning on buying for you," he whispered as his mustache grazed your chin and jaw. 

You grinned, hoping you already knew what he was talking about, but too afraid to say it out loud. So you pushed the thought from your mind and scooted a little closer toward him on his lap. "What's this I'm hearing about a beach day? And Skittles getting her cast off? This is all news to me."

He didn't miss a beat as he wrapped his big hands around your hips and said, "What's this I'm hearing about some bourbon at the retirement party? It's all news to me."

"Oh," you whispered softly before eating more Skittles, buying yourself a little time to think. "Well, you see... I wasn't exactly sober."

"You're joking," he deadpanned. 

You rolled your eyes and shoved more candy into his mouth. "I may have had a glass of bourbon sent over to Admiral Simpson, courtesy of Lieutenant Bradshaw and his girlfriend..."

After a few quiet blinks, Bradley's head tipped back in laughter so loud that Skittles the pup came running into the room. "You didn't!" Bradley said. "I have to work with that man!" 

"Somebody had to make the big move, Daddy! It cleared the tension!"

He met your eyes, still shaking his head and smirking. "It also made you look like Daddy's good little girl."

Your heart skipped around in your chest at his words, and you set your candy aside in favor of wrapping your arms around his neck. "Am I not? Daddy's good little girl?"

"Oh, you absolutely are," he replied as he lifted your top inch by inch. "I just never thought my boss's boss would see it that way." 

You raised your hands up in the air, eager to lose your shirt, but he took his sweet time about it. "Daddy."

"You can be patient," he whispered, smiling when he saw your purple bra. "Pretty." Your top dropped to the floor as he cupped you through the lace, finding your nipples right away. "You feel like going to the beach on Saturday?"

Bradley's lips found the tops of your breasts, and you could no longer formulate real words. You just hummed in response already knowing he was going to take expert care of you right now and on Saturday as well.

"You could wear your purple bikini and tell all the other guys to fuck off," he said as he ran his nose softly along your skin while he unhooked your bra and let it fall next to your top. 

"Would you like that?" you asked as your fingers tangled up in his hair. He answered you by nodding as he took your nipple between his lips. Bradley was all big hands on your bare skin and just the perfect amount of roughness. "Oh god," you whined. 

And then he had you on your back in the middle of the area rug with his body over yours. His thigh was rubbing you through your thin pants, and you bucked up gently against him as his heavy weight pressed deliciously against your body. "I love you," he grunted as you tugged at his hair. 

"I love you so much, Daddy," you gasped as he yanked your pants and underwear down and off, leaving you in only your socks. He fumbled with the front of his pants for just a few seconds before pulling his length free, and you spread your legs wide for him.

His lips and tongue were wet on your neck as you held him close, lost in the domesticity of having sex here now. Just like your first time with him. Right next to the snag in the rug. But this time you could hear Skittles' claws tapping across the kitchen floor, and you could see some of Noah's crayons that had rolled under the couch while Bradley fucked you. You could smell the lingering scent of the pasta sauce from the dinner you made. You could taste Bradley's now familiar tongue as it met yours. And you could feel his rough hands on your hips and belly where he'd now touched you hundreds of times. 

You fell in love with the flood of familiarity he brought to your senses, and it left you smiling up at him when he broke the kiss. "Jesus," he grunted, cupping one cheek in his hand. You kissed the side of his thumb as he stroked your skin, and you watched him slowly come undone for you. "I'll get you there," he promised, changing his angle so he rubbed your clit with each movement.

Just like the first time, he filled you up as soon as you came, and your name was all over his lips as you smiled at the lost crayons before closing your eyes. Bradley collected you against his body as he eased himself down onto his side, and you sighed contentedly. You held onto his wrist as he ran his hand along your hair and kissed you. In that moment you would have agreed to anything he said. 

"Baby, I'll be a little late on Wednesday night. I have to take Skittles to get her cast off, and then I need to stop at the store."

You hummed softly in response, pressing your lips to his. "Sounds good."

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

The only time Bradley heard from you on Wednesday was when you told him that one of your patients came in with an emergency, and you wanted to let him know you'd be helping Dr. Kelly with a minor surgical procedure. He was excited for you, but he didn't want to bother you. Even though he had good news.

"Congrats," Jake drawled in the locker room after a very long day of flying. "Don't know how you managed to pull this one off, but I heard you're flying in the air show."

Bradley ran his towel over his chest before tossing it into his locker. "Thanks," he grunted, trying not to smile. He'd be able to take you on the tour of the hospital with him, and then you and Noah could watch him fly. His son had never seen him in the air before, and it gave Bradley goosebumps knowing that the two of you would be able to do that together. 

Jake gave him one last appraising look before he got dressed. Honestly, it was probably the fact that you upped the ante with Cyclone that Bradley was chosen over the others. Perhaps now things could be called even. You managed to keep everyone on their toes in the best way, and it made him smile even now. 

You were in rare form this week, luring him in for living room floor sex when there was a perfectly new bed in the bedroom. And then last night, you got him to watch a Disney princess movie with you, even after Noah was in bed, and Bradley had begrudgingly enjoyed it. You were laying across his lap on your back when the end credits rolled, and you said, "If you're a good boy, I'll make you beignets just like Princess Tiana."

Bradley had smirked. "Do those have cream filling?"

"No," you whispered as he eased your shirt up so his palm was flat on your belly. 

"Do you want some?" 

He had been thinking about getting you pregnant as he made you bury your face in the couch pillows to keep you quiet.

And that was just one of the many reasons he was about to leave work and head home to grab Skittles before stopping at the jewelry store across town. If Casey managed to bump into there and ruin this surprise as well, he would probably lose his mind. But the jeweler near the animal shelter was one of the best in the city, so that was where he would go. 

Bradley awkwardly held Skittles while he drove, and eventually she curled up with her head on his thigh while he sat in traffic. She seemed to be doing great, so he hoped that was a good sign that the cast could come off. You and Noah were delighted with her, and she somehow made Bradley fall in love, too. 

"Yeah, you're sweet," he told her, scratching her behind the ears while he drove. He parallel parked the Bronco with one hand while he continued to pet her, and when he took her inside the shelter, he held onto her a little tighter. It was hard to believe she'd been here just a few weeks ago, completely unwanted. 

Bradley pressed kisses to the top of her head as he waited for the receptionist to finish her phone call. When she hung up, she asked, "And who do we have here?"

"Skittles Bradshaw," he replied, nuzzling his nose against her fur and wondering how on earth he had gotten so attached to this little pup. "Hopefully she can get her cast off today."

He only had to wait a few minutes, and then he watched as they examined her before cutting into the cast plaster. Once she was free, Skittles took a few tentative steps across the exam table, and then she jumped right back into Bradley's arms. 

After he paid the monstrous bill for such a small creature, he carried her down the sidewalk, enjoying the cooling temperature as the sun set. When he checked his phone, he saw that you'd finally texted him again.

My Princess: Noah and I are going to play at the park near the beach. Leftovers when you get home?

He typed out a quick message letting you know that sounded perfect. Thoughts of you and Noah together filled his mind as he entered the jewelry store, and two women looked up at him and Skittles. "Is it okay if I have her in here?" he asked, but they both immediately rushed over, practically screeching about how cute his dog was. Honestly, the pet would have probably worked out better than the dating app had for him.

"What are you looking for?" the first woman asked as she petted Skittles on her head. 

A soft smile made its way to his lips as he said, "An engagement ring."

"Oh! Of course, let's just head over here to see what you like best. Do you have anything specific in mind?"

Bradley followed behind her as he nodded and said, "A princess cut diamond."

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

A princess for a Princess. Also, there is no way Skittles wouldn't be a magnet for all the ladies. A big man with a small dog... just fuck. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 45

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[therealcocoshady]

Eminem with a younger girlfriend - HCs

Hey guys ! Here is a little HC that popped in my head about Marshall Mathers dating someone significantly younger 😉. I hope you enjoy it 💕 it is directly inspired by my experience, a twentysomething who is roughly Hailie’s age, thirsting over him 🙊

- Marshall Mathers knows he’s got young ladies thirsting over him but he shrugs it off. Don’t get him wrong, he is flattered, but it makes him just a tiny bit uncomfortable. And when someone shows him some of these unhinged thirst tweets written by twentysomethings who are even younger than his own kids ? He is downright mortified.

- He doesn’t really get why people his kids’ age think he is attractive. Of course, music is part image and everything, but he’s got three daughters who constantly tease him for being a dork. Same for the younger rappers he works with. So he absolutely does not think of himself as a sex symbol or anything.

- He kind of figures people are not really attracted to him. That it’s more about the fame and the fact that pictures can be misleading. I mean, have you seen the way they photoshop his lines ? He really thinks people would come off it rather quickly if they saw him in person.

- Also, he’s young at heart, but he is very much aware of his « inner old man », who takes just as much space as his inner child. So, to him, no young lady in their right mind would actually be interested in him.

- By the way, he is more easily attracted by someone older than him than younger. And in the instances where he has dated younger women, a decade was the bigger age gap he would allow.

- Unless he meets you, that is. When you meet, the chemistry is immediate. He can’t even deny it. He is just attracted to you as you are to him.

- At first, he does not really register the age difference. But then, you say something like « oh, I remember when that song came out. I was eight ! » that has him in shock.

- He thinks you are absolutely stunning. And he knows he is allowed to. You’re over the age of 21, it’s not like you’re a teenager or anything. You’re an actual adult, mature and everything. But he is still weirded out. It doesn’t help that your personality makes you even more attractive. He is drawn to you and it kind of leaves him wondering if he’s being kind of creepy.

- As soon as he realizes how old (how young) you are he kind of stops flirting. « I’m sorry, i just- I thought you liked me ? » you say as you finally decide to confront him. « Yeah, I did. I do. It’s just… I’m 51 », he replies in an attempt to offer an explanation. « And ? » you ask with a raised eyebrow. « I hadn’t realized you were so young » he continues. « i didn’t realize i looked so old », you said with a pout. « No ! I mean- Look, I like you, you’re great. You look incredible. But I’m old enough to be your dad », he says. « I mean, I wouldn’t mind calling you Da- » you jokingly begin, but he shuts you up with a death stare real quick.

- You try the « come on, age is just a number argument » but it does not work as well as you hoped it would. « You know who would agree with you ? R. Kelly » he replies with a raised eyebrow.

- The two of you keep on talking and hanging out but he insists there won’t be anything besides friendship. Until, one night, your flirty banter finally earns you a kiss. « I knew you’d give in », you grin with pride and satisfaction. « I can still change my mind », he playfully threatens.

- The two of you start dating eventually but, in the beginning, he mentally slaps himself a handful of times. That being said, he absolutely can’t resist you.

- He wouldn’t go public with anyone, but especially not with someone with whom he has such a significant age gap.

- It’s also a reason why he doesn’t want to tell people about your relationship. He’s very reluctant to introduce you to his friends and meet your loved ones.

- He knows his friends would absolutely not leave him alone with the age jokes. You can count on his buddies to make jokes about you having a daddy kink.

- Speaking of which… You’ve got a Daddy kink ? Well that’s too damn bad. Because he will absolutely puke if you call him that. Nothing gives this man the ick more than the thought of you being with him because of some unresolved daddy issues.

- That being said, he will absolutely activate his « dad mode » in some circumstances. He doesn’t even do it on purpose. It’s in the little things, like the way he scolds you for not wearing anything warmer or how he reminds you to call him as soon as you get out of the club.

- He won’t tell you what you should or shouldn’t wear but he’s not a big fan of you wearing anything that makes you look younger than your years.

- Speaking of looks… dating someone younger definitely makes him more self-conscious about his own appearance. It’s already hard seeing yourself age when you’re a rapper but dating someone younger makes it worse. It definitely has him second-guessing his outfit choices.

- And even though you tell him you like his fine lines and graying hair… he is not having any of that. Look at him using (and abusing) the dye and skincare.

- With time, though, he doesn’t think too much about the age difference. At least, he doesn’t obsess over it too much.

- But he will absolutely throw it in your face in an argument, maybe using it to call you immature or something. (Even if he’s the one being immature)

- That being said, don’t you dare pull that shit on him and suggest that you might indeed go for someone your age. He is pretty confident but he is terrified to lose you to someone younger.

- Deep down, his biggest insecurity about your relationship is that your life plans might not align. And even if you assure him that you’re on the same page, he still braces himself for the day you decide to leave him.

- You might be self-conscious too, given the fact that he is usually attracted to women older than you. But he always makes sure to ease your mind.

- As the relationship progresses, he allows himself to be more committed to you but his reluctance to go « public » might cause some issues.

- Ultimately, though, people around you are supportive of the relationship - even though some of them might have some initial doubts.

- Let’s be honest : the most stressful part is not your friends or his. It’s family. He is terrified of introducing you to his daughters. And his stress is communicative. Also, he’s not too eager to meet your parents. Because he knows exactly how he’d react to his daughters dating someone his age.

- He is not one to give in to PDA anyway but it’s even worse when there’s family around. This man will not be caught holding your hand or even staring at you too intently. Even if people know you’re together. He is guarded like that.

- His daughters might end up telling him there were « signs » that he was dating someone younger : like some newfound interest in a particular TV show, more skincare in his bathroom…

- People around him aren’t specifically bothered by the age gap in itself. But you might be subjected to more scrutiny. They’d be quicker to assume you’re in it for shallow reasons.

- But once you’re in… you’re in. If anything, his whole entourage will be even more impressed. They know that dating Marshall isn’t a piece of cake and they’re really impressed that you handled the scrutiny they subjected you to so well.

- The more time goes on, the less of a big deal the age gap becomes, to you, to him and to anyone else.

- The only reminders are the little harmless jokes and Marshall’s celebration of anything that proves you’re aging. You might be a little self-conscious about your first wrinkles but he’s lowkey relieved. Maybe he won’t feel like a creep. 🙊

[alessiasfreckles]

too in love to think straight

Alessia always thought she was straight, until y/n joined the team. Y/n has a crush on Alessia, but is far too shy to do anything about it. Their meddling teammates decide to help them out.

warnings: none!

A/N: based off this prompt! longest fic yet at almost 4k words, so thank you for the prompt, it definitely helped the writer's block!

------

Alessia Russo was straight. Straight as a ruler. Sometimes her teammates joked about it, teasing her for being a heterosexual female footballer, one of a kind. She had never let the jokes they made get to her, always brushing them off, not even giving them a second thought. After all, she was straight, wasn’t she?

She watched you in training, sometimes. Not in a creepy way or anything, just in a… ‘wanting to know more about you’ way. Alessia was fascinated by you, even if she couldn’t quite explain why. You had joined the team a month ago and had already earned a reputation for being extremely shy and quiet. Sometimes your teammates would place bets on who could get you to say more than a single sentence that day, which you didn’t mind, really. You knew they weren’t doing it to be mean, and that they’d stop if you asked. Despite how shy you were, you’d already found your place in the team and felt comfortable there. The girls were your friends, even if you didn’t talk much. 

You were warming up in training, your hand on Steph’s shoulder as you swung your leg back and forth, when she said something that made you start giggling. The sound nearly made Alessia trip over her own feet, and when she looked up to see you grinning at Steph, she felt something flutter in her stomach.

That was normal, right? That was a thing that happened to straight people? She just really wanted to be friends with you, that was all. Right?

As the days went by, she started making an effort to talk to you more. She would coincidentally finish getting changed at the same time as you, meaning the two of you ended up walking together quite often. 

“So, um, how are you settling in?” she asked the first time it happened. 

“Good,” you said, smiling shyly. 

“That’s good! I settled in pretty quickly too, the girls are so nice and welcoming here, you know? I had been worried when I moved that it was going to take me ages to feel at home, but now it feels like I’ve been here forever!” she rambled, and then laughed awkwardly. “Oh, sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“No, it’s okay,” you glanced up at her and gave her another smile, blushing slightly, and she smiled back. 

From then on, she found herself thinking about your smile a lot. She would look for you during training, hoping to catch a glimpse of it. It was even better when it was directed at her. 

----

“So we can all agree that Lessi definitely has a thing for y/n, right?” Steph said in the changing room to the few teammates that were still getting ready after the two of you had (completely coincidentally, of course) left at the same time once again. 

“Wait, I thought she was straight?” Kyra asked.

“Nah, y/n’s gay,” Jen piped up. “I mean, she doesn’t really talk about it much, but she posts about pride month on instagram and stuff, and we talked about what going to pride for the first time was like a couple weeks ago.”

“No, I know y/n is gay,” Kyra said, exasperated. “I meant Lessi. She’s like, the token straight in the team.”

“Yeah, I have a feeling that our token straight isn’t as straight as we thought. Or as she thought, for that matter,” Steph grinned. “Have you seen the way she follows y/n around? Like a lovesick puppy.”

“Maybe someone should try and find out if y/n feels the same way,” Jen suggested, a sly look on her face. “Ky, you should do it.”

“What?! No way,” Steph laughed. “Ky can’t keep her mouth shut to save her life.”

“Hey!” the younger Australian protested. “Actually, yeah she’s right. I would definitely just ask her outright if she’s interested in Less. Kinda get the feeling that we might need subtlety to get that kind of info out of her.”

Just then, Viv walked back into the changing room. “What are you guys doing in here? Come on, we’re all waiting for you.”

“Viv!” Steph exclaimed. “You’d be perfect for our plan!”

“What plan?” she asked, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, so you’ve noticed how Less has a crush on y/n, too, right?” Jen said, grinning. “Well, we want to find out if the feeling is mutual. But, you know, since y/n’s so shy we figured that just asking outright isn’t the right approach. So…. that’s where you come in!”

“Really, guys?” Viv said, looking unimpressed. “That’s their business.”

“Oh, come on, Viv,” Steph pleaded. “Look, we all know there’s no way y/n would make any moves herself, and Less probably hasn’t even realised she likes her yet.”

Viv sighed. “I guess you have a point. But I’m not going to push her, okay? If she doesn’t want to tell me, that’s fine.”

“Oooh, this is so exciting!” Kyra squealed, clapping her hands. “Oh, but remember to be subtle!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Viv said, rolling her eyes. “Now come on, everyone’s waiting.”

----

“So, um, you’re very much straight, right?” Alessia asked Ella as they had one of their weekly facetime calls. 

“Ha, yeah, unfortunately,” Ella grinned. “Why, you interested?”

“Yeah, yeah, very funny,” the blonde rolled her eyes. “As, y’know, a straight person, would you say it’s normal to, um, think about another girl? A lot?”

“Right, tell me everything,” Ella said, getting comfy. “Who is it?”

Alessia groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Y/n. The newbie?”

“Aw, yeah, she’s cute!” 

“Okay, so you think she’s cute too! So, it’s a perfectly normal thing to think about someone, isn’t it?” 

“Well, that depends,” Ella said with a grin. “Do you think she’s cute in a completely platonic way or in a ‘she’s cute and i want to kiss her and have sex and get married and have babies’ way?”

“Oh my god, Ella!” Alessia groaned again.

Ella laughed. “Okay, so it’s the second one.”

“I don’t know, maybe?” the blonde blushed at the thought, but had to admit to herself that it wasn’t the first time she’d thought about kissing you. “So, it’s not something straight people think about?”

“Nope,” Ella smirked. 

Okay, so maybe Alessia was as straight as one of those bendy rulers the cool kids had in high school.

“Ugh, what do I do?” she asked.

“I mean, you don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” Ella said gently. “Like, about maybe not being straight, or about y/n.”

“Okay but,” Alessia started, then sighed. “Yeah, I don’t know if I want to do anything about the maybe not being straight bit. But, the y/n bit, I just, I don’t know! She’s just really fucking cute and like, really shy but when she does talk you can tell that she’s really smart and observant, and she has the cutest laugh, oh my god, the first time I heard it I nearly fell over, and I just want to be the one to make her laugh, you know? And like, I want to get to know her better. I want to know what she does when she gets home from training, what her favourite TV show is, what her family is like.”

“Well,” her best friend said. “Kind of seems like you do know what you want to do about y/n. You want to get to know her and make her laugh. Those seem like very achievable goals!”

“Yeah, I suppose,” the blonde said, frowning. Those were pretty achievable goals, actually. And technically she wouldn’t even be doing anything about her… well, her crush. She would just be getting to know her teammate. “Yeah. Thanks, Ella.”

“Anytime!” Ella said with a wide grin. “But as soon as this goes anywhere, I want to be the first to know, okay?”

Alessia let out a laugh, feeling much better after having talked to the brunette. “Deal.”

-------

A few days later, you were walking on the treadmill in the gym when Viv joined the treadmill next to you. You smiled at her, not thinking much of it, and when she gestured for you to take your headphones out you did. 

“Shit, sorry, I hate it when people try talking to me when I have headphones in,” she cringed, laughing sheepishly.

“It’s fine,” you said with a small smile. You liked Viv. She was quiet too, but more confident than you were. 

“I just wanted to check in, see how you were feeling. You’ve been here for what, 5, 6 weeks now?”

“5 weeks today,” you said, and she nodded. “I’m feeling good. I really like it here. Everyone has been really welcoming.”

She smiled, and it was genuine. She really did want to know if you were settling in okay. “That’s great! I’m happy to hear that. Beth will be too.”

“You two really are the mums of the team,” you teased softly.

“Ha, yeah, people say that a lot,” Viv said with a laugh. The two of you jogged quietly for a minute before she spoke up again. “So, I noticed you and Lessi have been hanging out a lot lately.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you said, blush quickly rising your cheeks. “She’s, um, really nice.”

“She’s pretty new here, too,” the older player said offhandedly, glancing over at you. “Maybe she can show you some good spots in the area?”

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” you said, feeling your cheeks burn as you looked down at the treadmill, not wanting to meet Viv’s eye.

“I’m glad you’re making friends here, y/n,” Viv said with a kind smile, and you nodded.

-------

“Okay, yeah, she has a crush on Less,” Viv announced to the girls in the changing room. It was the same group as before, Kyra, Steph and Jen, plus Katie, Leah, and Beth, who had gotten involved now too. 

“Oh my god, that’s so cute!” Steph gushed. “Wait, did she tell you that? Just like that?”

“No, of course not,” Viv said, rolling her eyes. “But trust me, okay? She likes her.”

“Alright,” Steph said, happy to believe her. “So, what’s the next step?”

“Guys, come on, you can’t meddle in this!” Leah said, standing up. “They have to figure it out for themselves!” 

“Aw, come on, Lee,” Katie said with a grin. “Surely a little push is okay? After all, there’s no way y/n is gonna do anything about it. And we’re still not sure Less even knows she likes her.”

Leah stood there for a minute, arms crossed, before sighing. “Fine, a little meddling is okay. But nothing big, alright?”

The girls grinned excitedly and got to planning.

-----

Jonas clapped his hands, getting everyone’s attention. 

“Okay, ladies, I want you to partner up for this next one!” 

The team was close enough that things like this didn’t make you feel the same dread that it did in P.E. in high school. Partnering up now meant partnering up with any of your friends, not waiting anxiously to see if you were chosen. Still, you waited to see if anyone did choose you. 

Alessia sidled up to you with a smile. “Hey,” she said.

“Hi,” you replied, smiling back.

Behind your back, Steph and Katie shot each other a knowing look and a grin. 

“I meant to tell you, you played really well on Sunday,” the blonde said with pink cheeks. You weren’t sure if it was from the cold air or if she was blushing. 

“Oh, thank you!” you ducked your head, blushing a little. “So did you.”

“Thanks,” she smiled. “So, um, did you have a nice weekend? Aside from the game, I mean.”

You nodded. “Yeah, it was good. I just stayed home and relaxed.”

“Yeah? What did you get up to?” she asked, eager to know more about you, but realised she might be pushing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry-

“It’s okay,” you said, cutting her off and placing a hand on her arm, and she blushed at the gesture. “I didn’t really get up to much, to be honest. I watched some TV, read a bit, did some puzzles, baked a little. And the boring stuff, like doing some washing, cleaning. But I guess the other stuff is kind of boring too.” 

“No, it’s not! It’s interesting! I like learning about you,” she said quickly, then blushed deeper pink. “Um, what kind of puzzles? Like, jigsaw puzzles?”

You laughed gently. “Oh, no, like, um, puzzle books? Things like sudoku, crosswords, that kind of thing. It’s my guilty pleasure,” you admitted.

“Wow, so you’re smart, then,” she teased with a laugh. 

“Girls! Less chatting, more moving!” Jonas shouted across the field at the two of you.

“Oops,” Alessia said, grinning. “I guess he has a point.”

As you were walking back to the changing rooms after training, Jen came up from behind, clapping both of you on the back.

“Right girls, monthly movie night on Friday,” she said. “You in?”

You waited a beat to see Alessia’s reaction, before nodding.

“Great! Less, we good to do it at your place?” 

The blonde rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Do I really have a choice?”

“Nope,” Jen said with a grin. “Thanks, Less!”

She ran off, yelling to Katie that movie night was good to go, and Alessia laughed. “I’m not sure why they’ve picked my place,” she said, shrugging. “Personally I think Beth and Viv’s place is the best for movie nights. Plus, any excuse to see Myle, right?”

You nodded, smiling. You’d gone to one movie night at Beth and Viv’s place, a couple weeks after you joined the club. You’d been in awe of how close knit the team was, wanting to be a part of it, but not sure how. You hadn’t really said much that time, opting to sit on the corner of the sofa, watching everyone else around you.

“You’ll come too, right?” Alessia asked, her voice hopeful, and you felt your heart skip when you realised she was hoping that you would come, hoping you’d be at her place. 

“Yeah!” you said, trying not to sound too eager. 

“Good!” she said, sounding relieved. 

For the next few days, you couldn’t stop thinking about the upcoming movie night. You knew it wasn’t a big deal, really. After all, it was a bigger group of the girls that were going to be there, not just the two of you. Still, that alone was a scary thought. You preferred your own company, or the company of just a few people rather than a big group. 

Despite knowing that the evening was in no way a special occasion, you decided to dress a little nicer than you normally would for a night in (meaning you wore the slightly nicer leggings rather than the stained jogging bottoms you used as pjs half the time), putting your favourite perfume on to give you a boost of confidence. As you got closer to Alessia’s house, though, your stomach started tying itself in knots. You forced yourself to keep going despite how nervous you felt about being at the other player’s home for the first time, and rang the doorbell. 

“Y/n, hi!” Alessia said, beaming when she opened the door. “Come in! Oh, you can leave your shoes and coat over there, if you want.”

She wouldn’t admit it, but she was nervous too. She’d spent far longer than usual tidying and preparing for the evening, and had swapped out the decorative cushions on her sofa three times before giving up. 

“Am I early?” you asked when you realised you were the only one there. 

“No, don’t worry! Some of the others just have a habit of being late. Half the time I tell Katie an earlier time than we’re actually planning, just so she shows up on time. Speak of the devil,” she said with a grin when another car pulled up outside.

20 minutes later, the others had all arrived as well. It was a smaller group than last time, just 9 of you, though you weren’t sure how many more than that would be able to fit into Alessia’s living room. You were a little disappointed when Katie arrived so soon after you had, enjoying the short-lived one on one time you were spending with her. 

Meanwhile, Alessia and Leah were in the kitchen, getting drinks for everyone.

“So, you and y/n have been spending a lot of time together,” Leah said casually. “What’s that about?”

Alessia blushed. “We’re… friends?”

“Is that right?” Leah said with a knowing grin.

“Okay, fine,” Alessia said, easily giving in to Leah’s knowing look. She glanced over her shoulder, checking that the kitchen door was closed before continuing. “I just think that she’s really cute, okay? And yeah, maybe I want to kiss her, so what?”

Suddenly she was being hugged tightly by Leah. “This is so exciting!” the older blonde squealed, making sure to keep her voice down. “You should tell her.”

“What?! No way,” Alessia laughed, shaking her head. “I have no idea if she feels the same way!”

“Oh, come on, she definitely does!” Leah insisted. “Haven’t you noticed that you’re, like, one of the only people y/n talks to on a daily basis? Full conversations, too!”

“Pfft, that doesn’t mean anything,” the younger player said, frowning. Did it mean something?

Leah sighed. “If you say so. Just remember, though: tonight is for your own good.” she said with a wink, and left the kitchen before Alessia could ask what the hell she was on about.

She started to get an idea about 15 minutes, when Steph, Kyra and Jen all got a text message and mysteriously had to leave. 5 minutes after that, Beth checked her phone and, not particularly convincingly, said, “Oh, the neighbour has just messaged me that she can hear Myle going crazy, we should head home and check on her.”.

Alessia raised an eyebrow. It didn’t take long for Leah and Katie to make up a similar excuse. The door swung closed behind them, and she turned to smile at you sheepishly. 

“And then there were two,” she said. “Sorry, I’m not sure what all that was about. This isn’t how movie nights usually go.”

“If I’m being honest, I’m kind of glad it’s just the two of us, rather than a big group,” you admitted shyly, internally cursing the blush you could already feel rising to your cheeks.

“Me too,” Alessia said with a smile. Before she could get another word out, however, the bluetooth speaker she kept in her training bag next to the door started blaring Love Story by Taylor Swift. The song was accompanied by a couple of car headlights flashing outside the window and some honks, and when the two of you looked out you could see Katie grinning from her car before she sped off, cutting off the music when she left the range of the speaker.

“Right, well, I feel like she didn’t quite think that through,” Alessia laughed, shaking her head at your teammates’ antics. 

Your cheeks were pink and thoughts were rushing through your mind. Did they know you liked her? Was that why they’d picked that song? And why they’d all left?

Alessia’s phone buzzed, and she checked it to find a message from Leah, saying ‘Just tell her! You’ve got this!! x’. She quickly turned her phone off again when you glanced over, and gestured towards the TV, where the film the girls had picked was still playing. 

“Want to keep watching?”

“Sure,” you nodded, though really you weren’t that interested. If it meant you got to hang out with Alessia longer though, you were all for it. You both sat down and started watching the film again, but it didn’t take long for the two of you to start chatting, the film playing in the background. 

“It’s good that your family were so supportive when you came out,” Alessia said.

“Yeah, they were really sweet, actually. To be honest, I kind of think they expected it, you know? Being a female footballer and all that,” you said, then quickly blushed, realising what you’d said. “Not that, um, all female footballers are gay, of course, I mean, I know you’re, um-”

She laughed gently, blushing a little. “It’s okay, I know what you mean. I think my family were actually surprised, really, when I never showed any interest in girls,” Up until now, she thought. “I’m just gonna, um, get a drink, do you want anything?”

“Oh, no, that’s okay, thank you,” you said quickly, not wanting to make extra work for her. 

Grinning, she picked up your empty glass anyway and took it to the kitchen with her. When she was in there, she pulled out her phone, quickly texting Leah, ‘I don’t know how to tell her!’. She anxiously bit her lip as she waited for a reply, not realising that the water was overflowing in the glass. She swore under her breath when she realised, but was quickly distracted when a reply came through. ‘Tell her how you feel! That’s all you have to do x’. Well. That wasn’t particularly helpful.

She went back into the living room and set the glasses down on the coffee table. 

“So, when did you know you liked girls?” she asked, taking a sip of water.

“I think I always knew, really. I was just never that interested in boys, and I had a huge crush on a girl in my P.E. class in high school.”

“Oh, is that your type then? Sporty girls?” she teased, and you blushed. “Has, um, anyone caught your eye here then?”

“I, uh, I-” you stammered, cheeks burning. 

She laughed nervously. “Sorry, I’m teasing. Um, actually, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

You could feel your heart pounding as you wondered where this was going. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I- well, I don’t think I am, um, straight, after all. At least, there’s at least one girl that I am interested in,” she said, sucking in a breath and looking at you with bright eyes. “You.”

“Me?” you squeaked, brain struggling to process what she was telling you. 

“I’m so sorry if I’ve made this awkward, if you don’t feel the same way, I’ve never done this before with a girl, and I really didn’t mean to make things awkward, we can just stay friends if you want, I’m so so happy to just be your friend as well-” Alessia rambled, barely pausing to take a breath until you put a hand on her leg, making her stop.

“I’m, um, interested in you, too,” you said shyly, unable to meet her gaze. There was a part of you that was still wondering if this was all a big joke. When Alessia’s hand cupped your cheek, you started to feel pretty sure it wasn’t.

“Really?” she asked, lifting your head so she could look you in the eyes.

“Really,” you told her.

You both leant in, gravitating towards one another, and you could barely breathe. You’d thought about this moment, dreamt about it. Whenever the two of you exchanged glances at training, when she laughed at something you said, when your hands brushed as you walked next to each other, you’d think about what it would be like to kiss her.

Now you were finally going to find out.

[fandoms-x-reader]

Goth! MC

Requested By: @fernstarsblog

Headcannons

Summary: How the OM! characters would react to an MC who is goth/drawn to the supernatural. The Sevon Demon Brothers & Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon and Solomon Word Count: 2,504

Lucifer remains as expressionless as ever when he first sees you.

After all, you’re a new human exchange student. That’s what everyone should be focusing on, not the way you did your makeup or the way you were dressed.

At the end of the day, you were a target to lower-level demons no matter how you looked.

But, take away those formalities, and Lucifer is completely attracted to your look.

You had an ethereal beauty to you - something he had yet to see in any other human and it drew him in like a moth to a flame.

He’ll notice everything about you - your outlook on life, your interest in the dark and mysterious, etc. 

And he’ll find the opportune moments to have conversations with you about these topics. Lucifer is as much a well of information as Satan, he just doesn’t typically flaunt it the way his younger brother does.

Lucifer is particularly interested in the Gothic culture when it comes to buildings and decoration. Would you say the House of Lamentation fit the bill?

Lucifer only agreed to allow you to put eyeliner on him after a whole lot of Demonus was in his system.

And he wore it with absolute pride. 

Until he realized you took a picture of him with the makeup on and sent it to his brothers.

It’s funny that you’re attracted to the supernatural because he’s about to turn you into a ghost.

Mammon came into the assembly hall with so much confidence, ready to tell you off in front of everyone and make sure you knew that he was the one in charge.

But, when he actually saw you, he stuttered.

He still managed to get his words out in the end, but why were you dressed like that?

Mammon thinks you look great, but you weren’t what he was expecting and you definitely didn’t look like a pushover like he was hoping.

Mammon will boast about your look to others, and he’ll dare someone to comment on it in any way that he didn’t deem acceptable.

But if you’re interested in the supernatural, that’s where Mammon draws the line.

Let’s not forget he’s a scaredy cat when it comes to things like horror movies and ghost stories and whatnot.

He’ll act all brave in front of you, pretending as though he’s interested in the same stuff just for a chance to spend time with you.

But if you go somewhere scary he’ll be holding your hand and if you watch a movie that frightens him, he’ll sit closely to you and offer to turn the light on - all for your sake, of course. He can’t have his human having a heart attack!

That being said, you did notice that Mammon’s latest photoshoot was all goth-themed and he even did the makeup to perfection.

Levi knows all about goth culture.

There are so many iconic characters in his manga and anime who are goth and he can’t help but admire the way they look and act.

There’s something just so intriguing and mysterious about them!

Not to mention the fact that a ton of his video games have designs modeled after gothic looks for their playable characters, NPCs, and the overall setting of the game.

Levi has even considered trying out the gothic look himself when he wanted to cosplay as one of those characters.

But, he’s never been able to bring himself to do it, afraid he won’t be able to get the look right.

But now that he has you, he’s ready to try it!

Please show him all your tricks on properly doing the makeup. He wants to look like this character in this anime!

You’re a bit surprised at how well Levi pulls off the goth look. The eyeliner really brings out his features.

He freaked out when you told him that, but he’ll keep it in mind.

He can’t wait to play all of his favorite games with someone who can truly appreciate the gothic nature of them!

Satan was one to notice your appearance straight away.

There was something different about you than the typical happy-go-lucky and naive humans he had seen pictures of in his books.

Your appearance was something that enticed him.

There was something beautiful and mysterious about the makeup and clothes you wore.

His initial thought was that you looked like you walked right off the pages of one of Edgar Allan Poe’s books.

He even went so far as mentioning that to you and if you tell him that you knew who he was talking about, Satan would be ecstatic.

He believed that Poe was an excellent author in his own right, but he was also from the Devildom so he couldn’t be sure that humans would hold the same affection.

He’ll offer to read some of his stories with you excited to use the similarity to try and get to know you. 

And if you have any other books or authors that were similar he would be more than happy to read those as well!

If you’re drawn to what humans would consider “supernatural” Satan is the best person to turn to.

His knowledge is extensive and he will happily tell you about any creature that you’re curious about.

If you want simple information, he’ll just tell you if it exists or not.

But if you want to know more than that, he’ll excitedly tell you all of the facts he knows.

If you mention a creature he doesn’t know about, he’ll take you to the library and the two of you will do research together until you find what you’re looking for.

All in all - he likes that you’re goth.

Asmo is a bit taken aback by your appearance at first. 

He isn’t used to seeing others wear heavy make-up or such interesting clothes. 

He kept up with all of the latest fashion trends, so of course he knew about the “goth” look.

He just doesn’t typically do it on himself.

But, he loved the way you looked. So much so that he considers you his inspiration for his new look!

Asmo will be attached to your hip, asking you which makeup products you prefer and which colors you tend to use.

He liked making his own clothes and he will make up some outfits that have a gothic look to them with a touch more of Asmo.

He’ll set up a whole photoshoot to show off his clothes and he’ll ask you for help with his makeup.

He wants to make sure he does the look right!

He’ll ask you to do the photoshoot with him, wanting the world to see the two of you together.

But, if you decline, he’ll just take double the amount of photos to make up for it. 

After that photo shoot, you do notice that others in RAD have started dressing the same way.

You and Asmo have started a new trend.

Beel doesn’t focus too much on appearances. It’s all about what’s on the inside for him.

He likes your overall aesthetic, but at the end of the day, he isn’t completely wrapped up in the details of your appearance like some of the others would be.

Did you call yourself “goth”? You’ll have to explain to him exactly what that means.

He’ll ask you if goths eat the same food as other humans in a completely innocent and curious way.

Bad time for a vampire joke.

Beel thought that you were serious about drinking blood and was a bit wary of you. 

Beel can bond with almost anyone about almost anything so he’ll find a way to connect with you.

He enjoys learning more about your culture and he even lets you put makeup on him to see what he would look like.

He 100% pulls off the goth look. 

He also likes listening to you go on and on about your knowledge of the supernatural.

He’ll happily munch on food while he listens to you talk, smiling at the way your eyes lit up as you talked about something that was so closely related to his world.

Belphie is one to make witty comments about your appearance.

He’ll joke about keeping you away from garlic or keeping you inside during a full moon.

He’ll tease you about wearing too dark make-up and will ask you if you have more than one color in your wardrobe.

Basically, anything he can to hide the fact that he finds your look insanely hot.

He’s a total sucker for the goth look but you would never get him to admit it.

He finds your conversations so much more interesting than any other humans because where they shy away from dark topics, you embrace them.

He’ll feel naturally drawn to you and one day you caught him looking up how to do goth makeup on his D.D.D.

He immediately denied it but from that point on you made it a point to try and convince him to let you do his makeup.

He declined every single time and you eventually had to wrestle him and pin him down so that you could apply eyeliner to him.

It was obvious that he wanted to see what he looked like with it because he could have easily pushed you off if he really wanted to.

Belphie pulls off the look effortlessly. He fit right in with the goth culture.

And the next time you were in his bedroom, you noticed eyeliner sitting on his dresser.

Diavolo found your appearance strikingly beautiful.

As the future King of the Devildom, he was drawn to all things dark and mysterious and you fit both of those categories to a T. 

How could he not be attracted to you when you already looked like you belonged?

Diavolo is a very busy man though and didn’t have much time to get to know you at first.

Instead, he had to admire you from afar.

He noticed the way that you wouldn’t be afraid of things in the Devildom. Most humans would have already run for the hills by now.

But you welcomed those things and even looked excited while experiencing them.

When Diavolo finally had a chance to speak with you privately, he wanted to know everything about you.

He was curious to know how you perceived the supernatural and what stories the human world offered about them versus how they actually were in real life.

He wears his classic boyish grin as the two of you talk about it. It’s the first conversation in a long time that he’s been so invested in.

After the two of you grow closer, you manage to convince him to try the makeup.

But, he’ll only do it in your presence. He doesn’t want others to see him with goth makeup in case he can’t pull it off.

But, goth makeup on Diavolo is a 10/10 - especially if he’s in his demon form.

Barbatos won’t mention anything right away, but he does find your goth appearance intriguing. 

Were humans starting to become more in tune with the dark secrets the world had to offer or was it just you?

He had been alive for far too long to be able to keep up with every fashion trend that came out. They all blurred together for him.

But this one stood out. It was alluring in the best way.

It was a look that demanded one’s attention and then refused to let it go. 

And whenever you were in the same room as him, his attention was all on you. 

He would do his best to perform his tasks like normal but his eyes would find their way to you no matter how many times he tried to look away.

He can’t deny the excitement he has when you talk to him about the Devildom.

You have such a natural curiosity for dark things and Barbatos has such an affinity for talking about them.

And your perspective on things in life is refreshing. 

He’s had so many mundane conversations in his life but you find a way to always grab his attention.

The two of you would get along very well.

Simeon is a bit taken aback by your appearance at first.

He came from the Celestial Realm where everything was bright and bubbly. 

So, he didn’t know what to think when he saw you decked out in such attention-grabbing makeup and clothes.

There was no doubt about it, you looked great.

But what was it about your look that was so appealing? He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Simeon does some research on the side to understand goth culture.

He finds it much easier to bond with you after knowing why you wear the makeup that you do and the customs surrounding it.

As an angel, he should have been put off by the fact that you were drawn to darker-themed ideas.

But, Simeon secretly had an inner desire to try some darker things himself.

He’s lived his whole life as an angel - don’t judge him.

This inner desire is what drove him to ask you to do his makeup. He just wanted to see what he looked like with it on. For research purposes.

Luke ended up catching the two of you and nearly had a meltdown. So, Simeon didn’t dare try it again.

But you did inspire his main character for his new book.

Being a fellow human, Solomon knows all about the goth trend.

So, there’s no need to have to sit him down and explain it to him.

That being said, you are the first person he had seen execute the look so perfectly and he can’t help but admire you.

How do you manage to get your makeup to look so perfectly? And do you make your own clothes or do you buy them online? Surely you can’t find some of the items you wear at the regular outlet store.

Oh, you want him to try the look out? He couldn’t possibly do that…he says as he’s handing you the eyeliner.

Solomon pulls off the look very well and you have him questioning himself. Why hadn’t he ever thought to try this out?

Solomon will use his new look to prank the brothers with you - especially Mammon.

They don’t quite understand the goth culture so he’ll make it a point to go out of his way to make them think it’s so much more sinister than it is.

“Mammon, let us drink your blood, won’t you?” The white-hair demon ran faster than when he was running from Lucifer.

“Satan, I think I’m having an allergic reaction to the garlic you put in this meal.” The fourth-born laughs it off until you both start hyperventilating.

Then he’s freaking out and looking for a cure until you and Solomon burst out laughing. Not funny.

Solomon would 100% be your partner in crime.

[o-sachi]

Cowboy, Pirate, or Samurai? pt. 2 ₊⊹ Blue Lock Chars.

ଳ how the blue lock boys respond to, “would you rather be a cowboy, pirate, or samurai?”

ଳ characters; rin itoshi, sae itoshi, shidou ryusei, michael kaiser, alexis ness, hiyori yo, kiyora jin

ᯓ Rin Itoshi - Samurai

He'd find the question a bit stupid because is his answer not obvious? "Too noisy," he'd say about the pirate and the cowboy. Rin's more of a lone wolf—moving in silence and always planning his next move. I don't see him choosing anything else aside from the samurai. Also, I have a feeling he's not too fond of water, especially the wide and deep waters of the seas that pirates have to traverse. He looks like the type to have motion sickness, but he's too prideful to admit it.

ᯓ Sae Itoshi - Pirate

Have you seen that one official art? I mean... I think Sae has the qualities to be the leader of a ship. Our idea of that has probably been influenced by Jack Sparrow or Luffy—both having loud and vibrant personalities. But even though Sae is more of the silent and brooding type, he has the potential to be a good leader if he wanted to. Canonically, he is also a strategist which is something very useful to commandeer a ship. And as we can see in the main story, it's easy for him to get people to follow him purely through his reputation and skill.

ᯓ Shidou Ryusei - Pirate

Unlike Sae, Shidou will probably choose pirate entirely due to Jack Sparrow. He has seen the Pirates of the Caribbean once and vaguely remembers thinking, "He just like me for real," about Captain Jack Sparrow. So upon asking this question to him, the eccentric pirate was the first thing to come to mind. Oh and if he hears Sae's answer then he's just likely to copy him regardless of what he might initially thought.

ᯓ Michael Kaiser - Cowboy

Out of the three choices, cowboys seem to be the ones that are cherished by their people. They're viewed as the hard working heroes—fighting off thieves or whatnot in exchange for little to nothing at all. Kaiser probably imagines what it would be like to be needed by the people—to be loved by them. He might not be too interested in the whole saving-the-public part of being a cowboy, but he can't pass up the opportunity to be revered as the hero of the people. I love you, Kaiser :((

ᯓ Alexis Ness - Pirate

He'd grumble when asked about the question. "Why are you only giving me lame choices?" he'd retort. Obviously, he'd rather be a wizard. What's the point if you can't do the unthinkable? But he digresses. Pirates aren't magical in any sense, but they're the closest to doing the impossible. They travel far and wide over dangerous seas, collect treasures, and plunder other pirates' bounty. Plus, their bodies are built different to adapt to the tumultuous waters. When you put it like that, pirates seem to be in a different realm compared to the cowboy or the samurai. Even after that tangent, however—he'll still make it clear that he's choosing wizard.

ᯓ Hiyori Yo - Cowboy

"Cowboys have pistols, right?" Well, he's sold. It hardly matters that samurais have katanas or that pirates have literal canons—Hiyori thinks those aren't practical at all. Besides, we can't really blame him for being largely influenced by the shooting games that he plays back at home. He's quite confident that he'd win in every standoff he'd find himself in. Sure, he has never tried it in real life, but if he's hitting no-scopes in game then it should be the same thing, right?

ᯓ Kiyora Jin - Samurai

He probably doesn't really care for being a pirate or a samurai—like he doesn't see anything appealing about it. With that being said, does his replica katana collection and extensive knowledge of the Shinsengumi entice you? Well, it should. I dunno... but Kiyora seems like the guy that's super into swords for no other reason besides he thinks that they are "rad." He has definitely played sword fighting with his siblings when they were younger. He may or may not have pretended to be Okita Souji when he was a young lad.

[🐟]: Should I do the other characters?

ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ ｡° ⚬ ｡ likes and reblogs are appreciated

o-sachi © 2024

[artist-issues]

I like Koba because he’s the perfect photo-opposite of Caesar, and the perfect villain for that franchise.

I like that the movies took their time and characterized him carefully, even in Rise of the Planet of the Apes, before anybody knew that he was going to be the villain in the second movie. The researchers are like, “he knows the drill, he’s been through a lot of labs.” When he’s just a dumb brute animal, with no superhuman intelligence, he causes the virus to be released to humanity. Remember how? By pretending to be calm when they put him in the scanning machine, but then thrashing suddenly and knocking that one lab assistant’s mask off, infecting him. He did that before he was self-aware and super-intelligent. He was a bitter and angry creature, and a cunning and vengeful creature, long before he got super-smart. And they keep that cunning bait-and-savage-switch character trait way later, in the second movie, when he pretends to be a silly monkey and then brutally murders humans when their guards are down.

But then when he is freed, and the humans are supposedly gone at the start of the second movie, I love the nuance that he wasn’t interested in overthrowing Caesar.

He was happy being the second-in-command. He had the opportunity to leave Caesar to get eaten by a bear in the opening scene of that movie—and instead he saves his life and looks horrified when he thinks Caesar is dead. They have a camaraderie. And he genuinely jokes around with Blue Eyes and tries to make him feel better after the younger ape is clawed by the bear.

Basically, it really was as if all he wanted was to wipe out the humans. When he thought they were gone for good, he was not the same bitter brute you see pushing Jacobs to his death or seizing the opportunity to beat up Will. He was happy just being one of Caesar’s advisors, living in the woods with the other apes.

But then humans come. And all this hate is back. And he still trusts Caesar and follows Caesar’s leadership, even if he thinks they should wipe all the humans out and satisfy his bloodlust from the beginning. He still submits to Caesar. But then Caesar pushes it by offering to basically help the humans do their work. Koba hates humans, and Caesar appears to be choosing them over him. And on top of that, you can see that in every confrontation he has with Caesar, Koba is interested in what the other apes think of him. Caesar stands up aggressively when Koba shouts at him, and Koba becomes aware that this is getting confrontational in front of everybody and backs down. Caesar almost chokes him out and Koba looks around at the other apes watching before asking forgiveness and regrouping.

So this means that there’s an element of wounded pride AND feeling like an outcast among the apes already mixed in with Koba’s hatred of humans, after Caesar doesn’t agree with him/punishes him. Then you can see Koba go from being a team player to being self-protective, and he starts using the other apes instead of being interested in them as family.

After realizing Caesar will never hate the humans, Koba basically had a choice to make. He could choose the apes, even though it has been revealed that they don’t share his hate. Or he could choose his hate—but he can’t have both, because the apes don’t want to hate humans if it means war. And we see that he wouldn’t give up his hate.

Koba’s own hate completely swallowed him up, to the point where he saw not only humans, but other apes, as disgusting. He starts killing just to kill. After the bloody war starts, he completely stops trying to manipulate Blue Eyes or gain the other apes’ approval. He just kills apes that disagree with him and humans in his way, alike.

Caesar points that out in their final battle. But that’s what makes Koba such a good opposite to Caesar. Caesar is, like I said in the other post, all about “family.” He’s all about protecting the apes he chooses to regard as his family, and it’s usually “protect them from hate.” But Koba doesn’t really regard the apes as his family. Maybe he was starting to, when he thought all humans were gone forever and was grateful to Caesar for freeing him from the labs, and there were no problems. But the truth is, while Caesar is all about making choices that protect, Koba is all about making choices that hurt.

And that’s what’s interesting. Caesar is defining what an “ape” is, and he knows it. He knows that he has a whole super-intelligent new species as his people, and they’re still deciding, every day, what being an “ape” means. And so Caesar struggles the whole second movie with the fact that apes and humans aren’t actually inherently different. Not when it comes to hate.

But if you think about it, that’s what separates the apes meaningfully from what they used to be: savagery. Just straight-up, plain “I feel mad so I’m going to lash out and rip up anything near me.” They got what from the serum? Advanced intelligence. Reason. Koba gets to the point where he can’t be reasoned with, and won’t show mercy or any of the “higher” sensibilities that come with that “higher being/human” thing the “evolved” apes have.

So when Koba chooses to be that way; when he chooses hate; when Koba chooses to kill his “family,” then Caesar kills Koba. Because Caesar is showing all the apes watching that final showdown: “true apes” do not kill and endanger one another. True apes protect each other. Koba only protects himself. So he doesn’t get to be an “ape” entitled to the same protection Caesar gives all his followers, and expects them to give one another.

I like that. Because Koba will kill anything that threatens or hurts him. But Caesar will only kill those who won’t let go of their hate—whether they’re human or primate.

I also just love the acting of the guy who plays Koba. And I love that he looks and moves more savagely than the other apes, even though he’s supposedly got the same level of intelligence and comparable experience to Caesar, the most “refined” ape. I love the way he talks, and I love, like I said, how careful and well-thought-out his characterization was.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Hell Pride University 2: Charlie & Vaggie

Charlie: (unlocking the door to her dorm room, her workout clothes are slick with sweat and rain, cheeks flushed, and out of breath) Thanks again for *pant-pant* helping me out with my stamina and *huff-puff* endurance, Vaggie. I appreciate it.

Vaggie: (drops her soaked duffle bag off on the floor) No worries, Char. Thanks for letting me stay over while the storm passes o- (glances at the dorm) -ooooooh....

-The dorm has a queen sized bed, desk, full closet wardrobe, desk, and is twice if not three times larger than the regular dorms. Kitchenette stands in the corner with a personal shower and bathroom. Razzle and Dazzle are passed out in their oversized dog bed that's too big for them both-

Vaggie: ....Charlie.... why is your dorm room so huge?

Charlie: Oh! Uh! (pulls a spare set of sweat pants and hoodie out of her closet and passes it to Vaggie along with a clean towel) You know..... My dad's the dean of the college.

Vaggie: (takes the clothes and towel) .....And.... that gives you a damn near hotel suite for a dorm?

Charlie: (sweating and blushing) Would.... you believe me if I said I was the Hall Director and lived here full-time?

Vaggie: (jaw drops) Don't you need a master's degree for that? .....Wait.... That's a full-time JOB!!!

Charlie: Well... (pokes fingers together) I'm working on my graduate degree... so... my dad may or may not have pulled a few strings to get me the job....

Vaggie: YOU'RE GETTING YOUR MASTERS AND YOU WORK HERE?!?!?!

Charlie: Vaggie, it's not that bad!

Vaggie: I just thought you were late to going to school like me! How old even are you?!

Charlie: (mumbles and looks away bashfully)

Vaggie: What?

Charlie: ......almost thirty.....

Vaggie: THIRTY?!?!?! I'm twenty-four!!!

Charlie: ALMOST!!! ALMOST thirty!!! I still have two months, one week, and three days....

Vaggie: Ay, dios mio! (plasters her head against the dorm door) I'm interested in a woman who could have been my baby sitter....

Charlie: (perks up and eyes sparkle) You're interested in me????

Vaggie: I-I mean... Yeah... But I thought you were MY age!!! YOUNGER even!!! I was starting to feel like a perv because I thought you were eighteen!!!

Charlie: I'm the same person I was dying on the track fifteen minutes ago, Vaggie!

Vaggie: You probably know how to use a VHS player!

Charlie: I mean. I do, but that's beside the point. Also, they're called VCR's.

Vaggie: (flops onto the bed and groans) Clara and Odette are gonna have a field day when they find out.

Charlie: Clara and Odette? Oh! I didn't know you were a Carmine. I had those two come see me in the tutoring center when I worked there as an undergraduate!

Vaggie: ........of course they did.......

[serenewrote]

Controversially Young ~ Matt Smith x fem! actress smau

Synopsis: You were recently cast as Bruce Wayne's love interest, which everyone adores, Selina Kyle. The age gap though, has some in a tizzy.

Warning(s): sexist comments, big age gap

Rating(s): NC-17

Actress Y/n L/n Cast alongside Matt Smith in upcoming Batman Movie

Here's what you need to know about Zack Snyder’s new project...

~~~

y/nl/n

now wait just a meowment...

are you going to see Batman (2024)?

see comments

charliebushnell y/n we've talked abt this

↪️ y/nl/n I couldn't help ittttt

user420 still have no idea how they could subject you to this

↪️ user2 subject her to what

↪️ user420 working with someone twice her age

hater2 be honest... whose d*ck did you suck to get this role?

↪️ hater34 probably Matt's

~~~

y/nl/n

Press paws and live in the meow!

trash007 if I were Matt, I'd hit

↪️ trash006 same

user360 y'all are gross up in these comments

↪️ trash56 if she didn't want these comments, she wouldn’t have auditioned for CATWOMAN

↪️ trash001 the sexist dc character to exist

user49 I could never work with someone twice my age, I'd be scared

↪️ user86 y/n's worked with Matt before I think she knows how he is

batman2024 we love our bat and cat

leahsavajefferies as purr-ty as a picture

↪️ charliebushnell no! no puns

↪️ diorgoodjohn these puns are hissterical

↪️ y/nl/n lol

~~~

Y/n L/n talks Catwoman, DC, and new interests

by Young Hollywood

Interviewer: Hello Readers! Today I am joined by one of these most known young actresses of our generation, Y/n L/n! Thank you for being here.

Y/n: Thank you for inviting me. I love doing interviews.

Interviewer: So, how have you been?

Y/n: I've been good. Doing a lot of filming for Batman, catching up with old friends, trying to up my instagram game. I've gotten into videography, shooting mini vlogs and cooking videos.

Interviewer: Sounds fun! I love that! Is there any insight into the movie that you can give us?

Y/n: Sure! If any of you were wondering, this is going to be very different from any portrayal of Batman and Catwoman that you've seen or read. Obviously because Selina Kyle is a lot younger than Bruce in this adaptation which is a plot within itself. This Selina, and because she is younger, her story has changed, is a street rat or stray cat. She lives on the streets, and her story in this, is similar to that of her portrayal in the show, Gotham. She meets Bruce as she is trying pickpocket off him out in the open. Then, it goes from there.

Interviewer: Wow! That certainly is a must-watch. Now, I hate to get deep all of a sudden, but have you seen the comments regarding your casting?

Y/n: Yes, I have actually. A lot of them are for disgusting middle-aged men, so I don't really bother with them. I knew what I was getting into when I auditioned.

Interviews: You also get to work with Matt Smith again. Did you know that he was casted as Bruce or did you find out after you got the call?

Y/n: You know what's funny? Zack told me that Matt told him not to tell me. So, I didn't know until our table read!

Interviewer: Oh my god! What?!

Y/n: Yeah! And I hadn't seen him in so long that I almost jumped across the table to hug him.

Interviews: Aw!

Y/n: A lot of people also would say that they felt bad for me because I'm the love interest to someone twice my age, but I've known Matt for a long time. He worked with my father in Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. I played young Rhaena in House of the Dragon. He's a family friend, a beloved friend. I trust him.

Y/n: I understand the public's concerns though. I did just turn 24 earlier this year. The age gap is big, but it is strictly for storytelling purposes.

Interviews: There you have it. I loved talking with you today.

Y/n: I always look forward to interviews with you. Big fan.

Interviewer: Big fan of you too! Any last words?

Y/n: Go see Batman in theaters near you coming this December!

fin.

I tried my best.

[kitkatt0430]

Quark doesn't have any children of his own (goodness knows he'd be paying out the nose for child support if he did) but he helped raise Nog. In a lot of ways, Nog is very much his kid.

When Quark was a kid, his father wasn't a good businessman. We learn over the course of the show that he's a lot more like his mother. She's brilliant with managing finances and gaining profit. Rom is much more like their father and for that reason Quark initially keeps him on a short leash. Rom's already been screwed over by his first wife and Quark feels like he has to protect his brother, even as he also tries to be a good ferengi by exploiting him.

Nog, raised with his father and uncle as his primary guardians, is acutely aware that his father has no real business sense. And while Nog is his father's son in many ways... he's also Quark's son. I doubt Quark would appreciate thinking it's his influence on Nog that leads him to join Starfleet, but Nog does inherit his uncle's intelligence and realizes that while he doesn't want the same life his father has... he doesn't want the life Quark has, either. Chasing profit and having it never be truly fulfilling enough. Nog's smart enough to figure out what he wants his own path to be, however, and he applies the lessons of their culture in ways that might not gain Quark's approval but does often gain his respect. (And inspires his father to eventually chart his own path too.)

Quark may never outright say it, but the way he feels at heart is pretty clearly that Nog is his kid too; we see him act parental, concerned... perhaps treating Nog at times the same way Ishka treated Quark and Rom when they were younger. Quark takes an interest in Nog's schooling when he's young and while he thinks Starfleet Academy is a mistake, still takes pride in being part of Nog's send off. Quark often 'mothers' Nog; I'm not really sure how else to put the way Quark will hover over Nog when he worries about his nephew, but it's definitely behavior Quark learned from his own mother. And when Nog is injured so badly during the war that he loses his leg, Quark nurses his nephew and even sets aside his own ideals to pick up a weapon in defense of them both from the attacking jem'hadar.

Every time I watch this show I think I come to love the way Quark, Rom, and Nog grow and change as a family over the course of the years a little more.

[omamorens]

a while back you said something akin to “inkblade college au.. (head full of thoughts)” !! would you be so kind as to open your head and share them? i am begging you on my knees…. spare inkbkade college au.. pls…

dear anon you dont have any idea of the floodgates im about to open but!!! im imagining two main routes for this college au. bear with me with this long answer!!

the ‘met-again at college’ au:

In this version of the events, the Rat Grinders probably broke off to do their own individual thing after finishing junior year and their redemption quests.

Oisin would probably distance himself away from Elmville but still pursue wizarding school elsewhere. Probably at the Bastion City University.

This time, he does it correctly with no cheating.

Though if he was being honestly, still having access to the full benefits from the school of conjuration was probably an unfair advantage.

So he always pushed himself to do harder, to excel beyond expectations. He’s a chronic over-worker and just wants to do things right for once.

Oisin never gets into another adventuring party again and instead studies to be some type of wizard scientist, developing new spells and technology probably.

Adaine, by this time, is already a world-renowned adventurer and top divination wizard of their age, in her own right.

She’s already established somewhat of a mark to history at the young age of 24? 25? probably younger, honestly.

Oisin hears about her from time to time— they do occupy the same wizarding circles and its kind of hard to avoid mention of the Elven Oracle.

But she was a famous figure now, literally beyond reach from a lowly college student like himself.

Imagine his surprise when he sees her walk into his class one day, but not as a student, no.

Adaine was a guest speaker and was about to discuss to them the very interesting topic of the Cosmology of Extraplanar Realms and Studies of Divinities

Oisin blanked out most of it.

Too starstruck from seeing Adaine again and oh… his chest was hurting again, phantom-pains from the shatterstar that never really left his mind.

Or is it?

Before he knew it, the session has ended. He thinks it ended too soon but the topic was actually discussed for two hours.

But his professor has an announcement to make? He stayed back to hear it out.

“Miss Abernant will be conducting research in the university for some time, and she has graciously granted the Wizard Department the opportunity for a student to take up an internship role for the duration of her team’s stay. Interested students may submit a form to me and the decision will be passed to Miss Abernant’s team after careful deliberation. That is all, thank you.”

Oisin has spaced out again, reeling from the thought that their paths would probably cross even more now that she’ll be at BCU indefinitely.

“Mr. Hakinvar? Oisin Hakinvar?” his professor called for him, and he addresses her, snapping out of his thoughts.

“Ms. Abernant, this is the top student of the Wizarding course, Oisin Hakinvar. I would speak highly into considering him for the role…”

Oisin has drowned out the noise again, because Adaine was staring at him, a twinge of familiarity setting in on her features. And of annoyance.

“Oh, I know of him.” she says tersely, “Top student, you say? No unfair advantages to speak of?”

Oisin’s brow twitched at that, answering the question himself, “None at all. I’ll make sure to send in my form for the internship role.”

Because he was prideful more than anything, and the subtle mocking comment made at him was baseless.

Adaine doesn’t know him, not the way that he is right now. Not after he’s pushed himself over and over to prove that he is worthy to be here.

“Very well! I’m sure Miss Abernant will be pleased to review your form.”

“Trust me, I am very good on both paper and practical application.”

Adaine shouldn’t even care for him at all, but she was curious. After Oisin and his adventuring party disappeared off Elmville, she always wondered what they were up to. Maybe more evil plots? Maybe they died somewhere off Spyre? Who knows.

Now she does, and the kindling of curiosity was highly-flammable, the worst of all motivators she could have.

And yet.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” she says to him, like a challenge. Oisin was set on meeting her to it.

This AU is definitely tagged as “Enemies-to-Lovers”, constant bickering and challenging looks, academic rivalry too because thats always nice. Maybe a bit of mystery because I do love the allure of putting them in a dark academia setting.

the ‘they got close during senior year and went to college together’ au:

This one is definitely sweeter and idyllic.

If you’ve ever heard of Sabrina Carpenter’s new song “Please, please, please” this is the general theme; its what Adaine would feel like.

Because in this AU, Adaine finally gives Oisin the chance to date her during college.

They’re always together anyway; with both being wizards pursuing academe, their schools of study interact in much more ways than anticipated.

Lots of cute dates in between classes too!!

Going to the newest cafe to try out their menu.

Amusement park dates!! Museum dates!!!

Bastion City is filled with things to do.

And even when they don’t, just studying together was already a date.

Oisin would always have some part of his body in contact with her.

Maybe his tail wrapped around her calf under the table, his free hand on her knee when they read together side by side, or just letting her lean on to him if she gets too tired to sit upright.

Adaine, on the other hand, was a little more paranoid of their relationship.

Was she just lying in wait for Oisin to fuck up? Hopefully not, but the chances are never zero. And she hates thinking of that, because at some level, she does trust and love Oisin, wholeheartedly.

But the past has always been haunting her in some way or another.

And it’s hard to relax when danger has been everything you knew your whole life.

But Oisin was soft with her, caring and understanding, frankly a little possessive and obsessive, but it was just the healthy amount that makes her want to drag him to bed every night and assure him that she is all his.

And Oisin proves to her that he is all hers.

Just imagine. Domestic Inkblade. never thought i would live to see the day that both words are in the same sentence.

Lots of late night cuddles, of assurances, of future plans togethers.

Unending conversations of “i love you” said in the most unconventional ways.

AND OF COURSE this is college. you cant expect me to think of college au without having Adaine live up to her “Party Wizard” title!!!

Adaine definitely lets loose at parties. She has her friends with her, a loving boyfriend, and her life has never been better.

But god she has the worst alcohol tolerance known to mankind.

Oisin is definitely watching over her, excusing himself from drinking too much just incase Adaine goes wild again.

And oh she does.

Thank god Oisin is there to [i will not elaborate what happens here, but god is it in my head; just guess].

And then she wakes up with a raging headache and Oisin is more than happy to care for her (making her hangover food, massaging her sore spots).

Like I said, domestic. Fluff and comfort and so much healing. LIKE SOOO MUCH. this is the answer to the “we could’ve had it all” tag because in this AU, they have it all.

Good for them… good for them!!

Will I write this? Not anytime soon but God would I kill to read it. Someone… anyone… save me inkblade college au save me…

[leitereads]

Kuroshitsuji: an analysis on "fagging" and a change of power dynamics between characters

I know how disappointed some fans are regarding the "politically correct" presentation of Ciel and the overall "fagging" culture that was common back then at elite boarding schools in the UK. From what I have heard from people slightly older than me, this was a thing that carried on into the late 90s in certain private schools. As of now, I am sorry, I don’t know anyone rich enough to ask them regarding those things.

However, what I can say about this matter is that a) this practice is can be found almost anywhere in the world (mostly in universities), b) it is about power exchange and how it leads to respecting tradition and bond with other students, c) I am part of it in my own university and d) it’s deliciously represented in Kuroshitsuji, in a way that somehow gives us a different perspective over what Ciel can and cannot do, limiting his actions, something that he, as a powerful noble, is not used to.

Fagging

In many countries and cultures cross the world, "fagging" has many different names, and many different forms. In the US you have fraternities and sororities, here in my country you have the "Praxe". In the UK you have (had?) fagging, in which consisted exactly on younger students doing most part of domestic tasks that were supposed to be made by older students. The older the students were, the more power and status they gained inside the institution, and therefore the more privileges they had. In consequence, although these fags didn’t have an easy life, they still had some sort of protection and status themselves for serving someone older. This creates an hierarchy based on age, more specifically just academic age.

Ciel, as being someone young is, of course, at the base of this hierarchical system. Someone who is used to be at the top of the hierarchical ladder is going to struggle to adapt to a new environment, one in which he simply cannot understand/agree with the traditions imposed. This will create a certain obstacle at first, because he needs to learn how to navigate in a different society so different and, at the same time, so similar to the one he belongs to: the only difference being where he stands. And we see Ciel, for the second time in his life, working himself from the the way down to the way up.

In the first time, his birth condition (well, let’s assume we are speaking about Ciel’s condition, and not o!Ciel’s one at least) gave him a kickstart in life: a manor, monetary goods, a title. In this case, he is a mere 1st year student, and he must subjugate himself to the desires (sometimes sadistic) of older students, especially Clayton at first.

Psychological Implications

It may be complicated from Ciel, even more taking in consideration how prideful he is, to swallow that pride and abide by traditions he a) doesn’t relate to b) finds useless and c) seeing himself without a lot of power to swiftly surpass those obstacles. Ciel is not there in order to live the academic traditions that are present around him, nor to make friends, of course. And, in the end, fagging and these other academic traditions open the door to just that: when people suffer together they usually stick together. This is the meaning of fagging, Praxe, and all the other academic traditions listed. And this is not what he is searching for. Which puts a little bit of strain on him, and he ultimately might think they are extremely childish and ridiculous.

Another interesting aspect of this overall power exchange here is that Sebastian is in a higher position of power than Ciel, as opposed to their base situation. This is, of course, extremely debatable, and the power that each one of them holds in their master/servant (no, I am not talking about that sort of thing… eww) is quite mutable, and, at times, one may hold more control over the other, and that is changing. Here we have a third factor contributing to that mutable power exchange: a different environment, where Sebastian’s position allows him to be seen as more respectable. And this is extremely delicious to see when he lets Ciel undergoing the initiation ritual with the bedsheets and being thrown: Sebastian is, obviously, enjoying himself at the expense of his master’s suffering, since in normal situations he simply cannot do that, at least not as frequently. To Sebastian this is cathartic, and to Ciel (Sebastian’s master) this must feel extremely insolent. Especially because Ciel is someone who likes to always be in control, having in consideration all he went through.

Undergoing this traditional upbringing will, hopefully, provide Ciel either the necessary tools regarding being more self-reliant and independent when it comes to Sebastian because, even if the demon is able to help him out with all the domestic tasks that he needs to do, who knows what will happen when Ciel loses (even if just temporarily) Sebastian one day (which, as another post explained, it might happen sooner than we think).

By being a fag and by navigating a position in which he is in a lower position, Ciel can’t find many shortcuts to success, and he will need to a) rely on his interpersonal skills, b) make connections with other students, c) be aware of what’s going on, socially, around him (read the room) and d) use his insight more than the sheer force and threats of Sebastian.