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sanguineterrain · 2 days

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hi sanne!!! my mind has been rotting with assistant!reader x dick, and i literally can’t get it out 😭. i'm in love with your writing and reblog everything! thank you so much, have a great day!!

cute idea! I gave it a little twist ;) hope u enjoy!

dick grayson x gn!assistant!reader. flirting, secret identities, sparring.

****

Bruce Wayne is evasive on a good day and downright invisible on a bad one.

So when you see him down the hallway from his office, attempting to escape without being caught, you nearly trip on your feet trying to catch him.

"Mr. Wayne!"

His shoulders rise with tension. You pity the guy, you really do. Being a gazillionaire is tough.

"Mr. Wayne! Mr. Wayne, Sharon has been hounding me about the charity dinner. Please, if you could just go to this one dinner... you haven't been to an event all month."

And you're getting the brunt of it from all of WE's clients.

Bruce turns, his smile looking more like a grimace. "Hn. Hello. A dinner? I was sure I had a shareholder meeting that day—"

"All month? B, what happened to the two event minimum? That's your rule."

The new voice comes from behind you. Dick Grayson walks down the hallway, wearing jeans that probably cost as much as your monthly rent.

"Mr. Grayson," you say, nodding primly. "How are you?"

You shift the files in your hands as they start to slip. Dick is quick to catch them, balancing the stack.

"We've been through this," he says with a smile. "You know you can call me Dick."

Yes, you've been through this. Every time Dick shows up to Wayne Enterprises, he tells you to call him by his first name. And every time after that, you call him Mr. Grayson.

"Right..." you say, taking back the files. You turn to Bruce. "Mr. Wayne, if you would just consider the dinner..."

Dick gives Bruce a severe look. "B, this is ridiculous. You're such a stickler for rules and yet—"

"Oh, look at the time." Bruce scoots past you and Dick. "I've got that meeting with Lucius. Where does the day go? Please tell Sharon I'll get back to her."

You can't understand how a guy whose biggest exertion is made by playing tennis at the country club can slip through your fingers so fast. He's around the corner before you can blink. You sigh.

"Don't worry," Dick says. "I'll get him to go. And I'll get one of my siblings to tag along to make sure he doesn't duck out early."

You smile briefly. "I'd appreciate that, Mr. Grayson."

"Dick. So!" He trails behind you as you make your way back to your office. "Do you have any plans for tonight?"

"Working."

"O-kay..." Dick jogs ahead to hold the door open for you. You push through, trying not to frown. "What about tomorrow night?"

You toss your scarf on the hook. It ends up on the floor. You ignore it.

"Still working."

"How 'bout I ask B to give you the day off then?"

Now it's your turn to give a severe look. "If you're implying that I'd be obligated to go out with you in return for a day off, you've completely misjudged my character, Mr. Grayson."

"Whoa, okay." He holds up his hands. "You're right, that didn't come out right. How about I get him to give you a day off, no strings attached?"

You dump your files and sit at your desk. "That's at your discretion."

"Hey." Dick leans on your desk, puppy eyes at full power. "Maybe we've gotten off on the wrong foot. Did I do something that put you off? I'd like you to tell me if I have. I hope the fact that I'm Bruce's son isn't stopping you from being honest."

You put down your pen and look at him. "Look. You seem like a nice guy, and you're handsome with a rich dad to boot. But I'm just not available, okay? You're looking for someone to go to Tahiti with. I respect that. But I'm not that person. I'm just not interested in that."

"You think I'm handsome?"

You sigh and open your laptop.

"Right! Sorry. Not the point." Dick sinks into a crouch next to you. He pulls the oddest poses sometimes, like he's made of rubber bands. "Okay. You're not looking for a trip to Tahiti. Got it. I don't take many vacations anyway. So how about having a friend?"

"And why would you want to be my friend? I'm just some assistant."

"Well, I..." Dick scratches his neck. "I like you. Is that so hard to believe?"

Very. But okay. You can throw him a bone.

"I guess not," you say.

Dick frowns. "You don't believe me."

How does he do that?

"Can I please get back to work?" you ask, only a little worried about being rude. "I'm sorry, I'm just very busy."

His face falls briefly before he stands and nods.

"Of course. No problem. I'll see you around? And I'll get B to go to that dinner."

"Thank you."

You don't notice his lingering looks, or the fact that he picks up your scarf and places it on the hook on his way out.

****

3...17...64.

The safe clicks. You smirk. Easy peasy. The hotshots always use their own birthdays for combinations. Predictable. You bet Bruce Wayne does the same.

It's a blessing that you were able to duck out early today. Bruce gave you the rest of the afternoon off. You suspect that was due to some outside meddling.

You take out the files from D.A. Colson's safe. You always say that if crooked district attorneys don't want their documents stolen, they shouldn't put them where anybody can find them.

...Maybe you were too harsh with Dick. He's sweet, no doubt. It was nice of him to get you off early. But you kind of feel like he'd take issue with the fact that you spend your weeknights breaking and entering.

"You know, cracking safes is already Catwoman's shtick," a voice says behind you. "You might wanna find a new gimmick."

A thrill shoots through you. You toss your head as you turn, leaning against the open safe.

"Catwoman steals diamonds." You hold up the documents. "I just steal files."

"Files from the district attorney," Nightwing says, crossing his arms.

"The dirty district attorney," you correct.

"I'm supposed to let you off on a technicality?" He sounds amused.

Your shrug one shoulder, a little coy. "You could. I hear you're the nice one."

He laughs. Nightwing has a pretty smile. It's the first thing you'd noticed about him.

"Oh, yeah? Anything else you've heard?"

"Plenty. But I'm in a bit of a hurry tonight, Wing. As much as I enjoy our little chats..."

You dart to the window. Nightwing easily blocks your exit.

You're not quite sure what overtakes you when you run into Nightwing. Ignoring the fact that he manages to be the one to chase you almost every time (and what a chase it is), there's a tension between you. Or maybe it's just one-sided on your part. It certainly doesn't help that he's got a nice smile and bouncy hair.

"You know I can't let you go," he says, hands on his hips. "Put it down."

And he's extremely good at what he does.

"Make me," you say.

He never uses his escrima sticks, which you know is a courtesy to you. But that doesn't mean you can't hold your own.

"Alright," Nightwing says, smirking slightly.

He takes three steps, blocks your immediate kick, and takes the documents.

Something swoops in your belly. You kind of get why Catwoman exclusively fights Batman. Once you go bat, you never go back.

"Got them," he says cheerily. "Now what?"

You throw a glass bird tchotchke at him from Colson's desk. He catches it with his free hand, but it's enough of a distraction for you to slide into his legs. Nightwing stumbles less than you would like, but you push him down against the desk.

He grunts as he hits the wood, then rolls you over in the next breath, hands catching your wrists.

"Stealing... makes you no better... than Colson," he says, hair falling over his mask. All of him is pretty, really. It's too bad he's so firmly on the blind side of justice.

"If these documents are released, Colson will win his case and bury his own crimes in the process. Is that what you want? Another crook in court?" you ask.

Nightwing frowns. "You know that's not fair. We can't toss a case for the sake of putting Colson behind bars. And if we pick and choose whose lives to play with, what gives us the right to carry out justice?"

"I dunno, Wing," you say, a little breathless. Nightwing's hips are politely shifted off of yours, chest to yours. "Seeing you go rogue would be kind of exciting."

You can tell he's glaring at you. "Not in your dreams."

"Been in my dreams, have you?"

You gain enough leverage to push Nightwing off of you. He's back on you immediately, trapping you against the wall.

"How is doing something like this not crooked?" he asks.

You scoff. "It's for charity. I'm donating residents to the county jail."

You twist in Nightwing's hold and land a kick. In the three seconds he's distracted, you grab the documents. No sooner do you do that does Nightwing tackle you. The documents slip out of your hand.

"I can do this all night," he says, knee wedged between your legs. "Might as well yield."

"Yield? You're not even playing at your full strength, hotshot."

He smiles. "No, I'm playing nice."

You roll your eyes. "Well, play fair."

And then you jump out of the window.

Your tuck and roll isn't the worst but it's not the best. Especially when Nightwing neatly lands a few feet away without a wince.

"Showoff," you say.

"Give me the documents," he says. "I want to put Colson away, too. But this isn't how to do it. He's still a civilian, and his client's life matters."

You get up and wobble on a loose brick on the edge. Stupid historical buildings.

You're desperate. If he keeps this up, you're bound to land yourself a night in the police station and lose the documents.

So you dust yourself off. And you stop. Right at the edge of the roof.

"Okay," you say.

Nightwing takes a careful step forward. "Okay?"

You toss the documents to him. He catches them in surprise.

"You're surrendering?" he asks.

You shrug. "Like you said: you can do this all night. And I guess there are better ways to catch Colson. More permanent ways."

He tilts his head. "You're not gonna kill him, are you?"

"No! Jesus, man. Ye of little faith."

"I'm just trying to understand why you surrendered."

You sigh. "Because you always win anyway. You're a better fighter than me. And I'm cornered. I just feel like cutting my losses early. You're a lot more convincing than Batman."

"Is that so?"

"Oh, yeah. I much prefer you chasing me."

"Uh-huh." He nods towards the building. "Come on, then."

"Okay, sure."

You take a step. And you fall.

The brick is loose under your foot. It doesn't take much for you to keep going.

Panic surges through you, but that only solidifies your acting.

"Wing!" you cry, toppling over the edge.

"Shit!"

Nightwing lunges and grabs you by your waist, then uses momentum to haul you both to safety. His cheek against yours for a moment, body pressed to yours. It really is a damn shame he's such a Boy Scout.

You knock him in the stomach and snatch the documents, then separate from his grip. You watch his face contort in realization as you land and bolt.

"That wasn't playing nice or fair!" he yells, landing on the opposite side.

You're already gone, laughter echoing.

#dick Grayson x reader #dick Grayson x you #Nightwing x reader #Nightwing x you #Nightwing fanfiction #nightwing x y/n #dick Grayson fanfiction #dick Grayson imagine #dc fanfiction #batman fanfiction #inbox #blurb

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bella-goths-wife · 3 days

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Hi :3, i am new in here and i'm a bit lose, ¿Why does Vox sees their pet like a substitute daughter 🥲?

Sorry if the question it's a bit dumb, but i genuinely don't understand that 🥲

Anyways, i hope you have a great and lovely day (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ (and sorry if i said something wrong, english it's not my first language)

No it’s okay, I’d love to explain it :D

Why does Vox see pet as a daughter

Warnings: mentions of miscarriage and pregnancy, obsessive behaviour, forced affection, forced paternal behaviour, just overall a complicated and sick dynamic, abuse mentions

This is just my story’s backstory for Vox since i can’t find a canon backstory

So we all know that vox is from the 1950s

And we know that most men from the 1950s had it built into them that it was their duty to continue the family name and legacy by marrying a nice girl and having a few kids

And I believe Vox would be a very big believer in legacy and having an heir to pass down his legacy to, since he was probably a big celebrity and quite wealthy

But during his time of being alive, he never had any children

He had an arranged marriage that was set up by his father, in which he married a woman he had never or would never love

But Vox wanted one thing from this marriage, one simple thing that he craved so heavily

A child

At first he was convinced he wanted a boy, someone who he could mold into being someone worthy of carrying on his last name

But then he realised something, having a son would only challenge Vox as the man of the house

What if his son became more than Vox or overpassed him?

Most fathers would be proud of their son achieved great things but the thought only made Vox seethe in jealousy that one day his legacy would be surpassed by something he created

But a daughter, she would be his to protect without the worry that she would ever overpass him

He wanted something he could own and protect, something to be part of his legacy but always staying below him

A daughter is what Vox wanted more than anything, a daughter that was strong enough to be given his last name but weak enough to need his protection

Of course he’d want a son or two to continue his last name, but a daughter is the only child he’d ever love

Sadly, he and his wife were unable to have children with his wife only being able to conceive and lose pregnancies

The furthest pregnancy that they got to was when his wife was six months pregnant before losing the baby

During the six months Vox fantasised about his child, his perfect girl who he would love more than anything

So when his wife lost the baby, he felt a part of himself lock away forever

The softer part of himself was pushed away to die

He threw himself into his work to distract himself from the loss of his child

He also threw himself into many criminal situations and made very bad decisions which would later land him a place in hell

Vox had already given up on the thought of having children during the living and finding out that sinners couldn’t conceive only pushed him further into the belief that having a daughter wasn’t in the cards for him

And then he met you

Granted when he met you he just assumed you were another scrawny sewer rat who had to steal and cheat just to afford some food

But you quickly changed his mind once you started working for him

Seeing your abilities progress and grow stronger was a magnificent sight for Vox, it was an achievement that he had coined for himself as your mentor

Combining your abilities was also an amazing feeling, to know that there was someone in hell who could only enhance his power made him feel like he could rule the underworld

You unlocked parts of him that he had long forgotten, a more forgiving and softer side

You were strong enough to protect yourself but also weak enough to need his protection

You were smart enough to keep up with Voxs conversations but also naive enough to manipulate to his wishes

You had a strong ability but not strong enough to survive outside of his providing, at least in his mind

You were young enough for him to be able to see as a child at 18, but also old enough for him to be able to exploit you and profit off of you

You were the perfect heir in his mind, the daughter he had always craved

So Vox would find himself being fatherly towards you and showing you fatherly affection, even if he ignored the way you tensed up at his touch

But parts of Vox hated this and denied his attachment to you

He wanted to smack himself for being weak and bending to his own obsessive cravings, but instead he smacks you instead to rid himself of feelings that could soften the sharp image he had created of himself

He craves your presence but despises the thought of you

But because he suppressed his fatherly feelings for you, they manifested into an abusive and obsessive addiction

He obsesses over every minuscule part of you and exposes it because he wants to know you but doesn’t want to get close enough for you to become a weakness to himself

Vox abuses you because he fears you most of all, he fears that the mere thought of you dating sends him into a blind rage or the thought of you getting hurt sends him into a deep panic

He wants to hold you close but parts of him want to smother you in his arms to make it so he doesn’t care for anyone anymore

So vox will always see you as a daughter in his mind no matter how much he tries to deny and suppress it

The only thing his denial does is make his feelings manifest into an abusive and obsessive relationship with you

He sees you as his daughter that he has always craved, and you see him as your abuser who will always be watching you

@hazbinhotelxreader @idontreallyexistyet @perkypeony @sparkleyfishies @buttercupfangirl @repostingmyfavs @lilyalone @the-faceless-bride @fandomaddict505 @corvid007 @rerarlo

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myrunawaysweets · 3 days

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I loved your recent post abt human Alastor x reader in the 1920s. Of course this is only a suggestion, what if you continued on with this? Maybe like having them move in with each other, start a family? Perhaps have a tragic ending that resulted both to go to Hell, or maybe reader be a fallen angel! Just all suggestions! Have a great day/night/evening<3

I dont know how long this was in here, I was scrolling through settings to mess around and found this, so I hope you didn't wait too long!

But this is one of my specialties and I'm honestly really flattered that you made a request!

The next day, the cops found a bloodied body in the alley beside the club. The corpse was too disfigured to recognize, knees bashed in backwards, jaw hanging loosely, ribs tearing out of the chest and a smile etched into the poor bloodied face as it hung on the wall.

Surely this was the work of the smiling killer in New Orleans, who else could it be?

No one had ever laid eyes on the killer and lived to tell the tale... except you.

You had been held by the psychopath in a loving embrace, wrapped up in a blanket on his couch.

For some reason, when you looked into this man's eyes, his gorgeous brown eyes as he softly smiled at you... you felt no fear, no urge to run or hide.

Yes you knew he had killed people, that he was no better than a monster... yet you couldn't help but think what made him this way. Everyone knows not to trust a bad apple, but not everyone suspects the tree that bears bad fruit... so you couldn't blame him, after all, why would you blame the apple for the trees wrongdoing.

Instead, you held onto him and stuck close.

Now you peacefully kneaded dough as your loving boyfriend drank his bitter coffee in your bakery as a customer walked in. Marjorie, a nice old lady who came by every second day for a box of beignettes.

"(Y/n)! Have you heard the news?"

You looked up from your dough, flour had stuck to your apron as you wiped your hands "What news, ma'am?"

"Theres been another murder!" As the words left her lips you could see alastor tense up as you studied him.

The poor lady was shaking as she opened her purse "it was a young fellow around your age! He had such a long life ahead of him too..."

You could see alastors hands shakily lift his cup to his lips.

"What a terrible thing! Here, have these on the house, as a thank you for your patronage" you smiled, handing her the box and pushing her change back towards her gently.

The lady smiled with a thank you before turning to leave.

"Say hello to Mr Broussard for me will you?" You waved at her as she closed the door.

As soon as the door closed you slammed the oven shut with the bread inside.

"ALASTOR HARTFELT!"

The coffee spewed from his lips as he stood up to face you "honey listen-"

"Don't you 'honey' me! You promised you'd stop this!" You placed your apron on the counter as you circled around to meet him at the cashier "You said you were out to go hunting!" You poked his chest as you cornered him.

"(Y/n) it wasn't a lie! I was hunting! For the scum of the earth!" Alastor held his hands up in defense from your accusations, trying to reason with you and get back onto your good side.

"You know damn well what I think of your little hunting!" You grabbed your purse and started for the door before he blocked your path.

"(Y/n), dearest, where are you going?" His smile could not hide the panic in his eyes.

"Away from you, I'll be at mimzys until you can decide which one you'd prefer to give up "you pushed him aside and opened the door "me? Or your little 'huntin'?" You slammed the door as you walked to mimzys club.

Just because you didn't care that he did the murders before, didn't mean you were okay with him continuing them. Part of you thought you could eventually get him to see the good in the world again and leave behind this cold blooded killing, he loved you enough to do that at least right? Then maybe when you two grow old and wrinkly, God could open the golden gates for both of you... if your foolish boyfriend could ever stop hurting innocent people...

You sat on the stool with mimzy, drinking a glass of wine.

"I just don't get it! How can he keep choosing to go 'hunting' almost every night, mimz?! Doesn't he see the danger?" You sighed.

The short blonde looked at you "what can I say dollface? Boys will be boys! They've gotta have some sort of hobby, an most of the time, it's a gruesome one! Why can't they just take up knittin or even painting? Always hunting or boxing I say" mimzy took a swig "and every night? That's harsh! Doesn't he see how pretty you are?"

The two of you giggled.

Nights like these were always nice, just you and mimzy sitting in the empty bar, drinking and talking the night away.

"At this point mimzy, I think its better for me to just stay alone though, it doesn't seem like he's changing anytime soon and I don't know how long I can take this" you looked down at the glass, running your finger along the brim...

"Its okay girly" mimzy rested her hand on your shoulder "I'm sure he'll come around eventually, either way, I'm here for ya"

She really was one of your best friends.

Your conversation was interrupted when you heard a slight creak in the floorboards behind you two, making you turn around.

"This place is really getting old, I'm gonna need to find a way to get a new place" mimzy sighed.

The night went by fast as you two talked, and before you know it, you were right back in front of your bakery, sign lights were off as you opened the door, silently clicking the lock before making your way to the upstairs where your humble abode resided.

Alastor most likely went to blow off some steam, he tended to do that after your arguments/fallout.

You had left in such a hurry that you forgot to take out the bread from the oven, but luckily, alastor had seen you bake many times and finished the loaf before placing it on the cooling rack.

By the time you finished downstairs, it was midnight as you started walking upstairs, exhausted from the days work and alastor fiasco.

When you opened your door, you were met with a nervous Alastor standing straight and tense in front of you.

"I have something to say-" you both said in unison.

Alastor seemed to tremble as the words left your lips, still unable to make eye contact.

"I know it's not very gentlemanly of me, but may I go first?" His words almost came out as a mumble as his smile was strained.

You nodded, indicating he may continue.

"Thank you" Alastor took a shaky breath before looking you in the eyes "darling, I know I haven't made it easy for you with my... hunting... but I promise-"

Anger boiling in your blood, you interrupted him "do you know how many times you've told me that lie, Alastor?" Your nose scrunched up in anger as you tried to hold back tears "how many more times am I going to keep hearing this?"

Alastors wide eyes showed the fear he had of losing you, making your heart ache even more than it already was.

"I promise... my dear, this is the truth" Alastor took a gentle step forward, eyes trained on the ground.

placing your hands in his "I've put a lot of thought into it... and although I don't like the idea of being unable to kill those filthy vermin... I realized i can't live in a world without you in my arms"

Alastor ran his fingers gently over your knuckles, a gentle smile placed on his lips, almost dropping to a frown.

"I can change... and I know you want me to, I'll put in the effort to become the man you want, the man you need..." Alastor lifted your hand to his lips, closing his eyes as he placed a soft kiss.

The anger you felt died down, but still hesitant, you asked "how can I be sure you mean it?"

Finally looking back into your eyes again, he knelt down on one knee, still holding your hands "I, Alastor Hartfelt, would like to ask you, (y/n) (l/n), for your hand in marriage, I swear on my mother's grave that I will never take your words lightly, love you with undying devotion, and never kill again" he then rested his forehead onto your knuckles gently before he desperately whispered "please"

This proposal was not exactly practical, considering your argument not even 6 hours ago. There was no ring, no classy dinner, it wasn't how anyone would imagine a marriage proposal, yet here you were, heart beating rapidly as you felt tears fill your eyes.

Your words felt stuck in your throat as you looked into your lovers eyes "do you mean it?"

For what felt like the first time, Alastors smile dropped as his face held a serious expression "with all my heart, ma' cherie"

Your knees buckled as you fell into his arms, tears streaming down your face as you held your lover tightly, whispering out a shaky "Yes" into his chest.

Months went by, the wedding went off without a hitch.

Mimzy was your maid of honor. No one else was really there for your wedding, considering your family had cut ties with you years ago, and all Alastors' relatives were either deceased or overseas.

Nonetheless it was a happy and joyful union.

Alastor had kept true to his word and never killed another human, kissing your shiny ring every night like a reminding prayer.

Your bakery gained popularity since you were now Mrs Hartfelt. But popularity has its downsides... it wasn't long until women started talking about you, jealous of your position as Alastors wife.

The words themself didn't hurt you much, but the constant harassment and inability to leave the house without being called a harlot, that was slowly getting to you.

Alastor had assured you many nights before bed that things would get better, and if need be, he would give up his career as a radio host. The poor man would do anything for your happiness, anything to assure that you'd stay his forever...Even kill if you'd permit him to.

But there was only so much Alastor could do... it wasn't until one evening when you failed to show up to your shared home that he began to lose it.

Alastor was on edge, thinking of all the possibilities, you could've been held back at the bakery by a man who held ill intentions, you could be checking in with mimzy or got taken by a jealous fan. So many thoughts raced through his head as he slowly made his way to the door to look for you, eventually deciding against it, sitting back down as he patiently waited for your return...

Except you didn't.

It wasn't until a whole sleepless night had passed when he decided to go search for you. But of course, he came home empty handed. Were you unhappy in this marriage? Did you elope with a man he didn't know about? Did you realize you didn't love him and run away?

The second option was to call the police, something he's never done before.

The police launched an investigation, it was only until a month later, you were found in an alleyway, someone had called the cops about a crazy woman attacking a man, the situation escalated to the man killing her in self-defense.

They found traces of drugs in your blood, filing you as a drug abuser.

your body was frail and malnourished, pale like it had been weeks since you last seen the sun.

Alastor was called to the scene to see if this lady was indeed his wife.

When he arrived, he felt like the world was about to open up and swallow him whole.

As his eyes fell onto your pale lifeless body, something snapped inside of him.

You were never one to use drugs, never one to attack someone for no reason... something was wrong.

He knelt down and held your hand with tears in his eyes. Although he had seen many dead bodies in his life, this was the one body he never wanted to see like this.

He hated how your body was treated the same as the trash that walked the earth, like a lowly peasant when instead, the world should weep for the loss of you.

'This is all wrong' he thought, as he cradled your body in his lap as your blood stained his white shirt, but he couldn't care less as the last ray of light left his dark world.

It was long after your funeral, he hasn't been able to sleep since then. Every night he'd wait until daybreak for your arrival, like this was all some twisted joke.

It wasn't until one day he realized you needed revenge.

Yes, he promised to never kill anyone, but that was when you were alive, when you were beside him, when he was able to fall asleep with you by his side every night, Before you were selfishly taken from him.

He hasn't slept in days, maybe weeks? He couldn't remember... all he knew was that the man needed to pay for what he did to you...

It took a while but he eventually found the lying heathen.

There he was, sitting at mimzys bar, the same bar he met you, sitting on the same stool that YOU would sit on... it made Alastor sick watching this man live like he didn't take you away from him.

Alastor walked in, and sat beside the wretched man.

"You seem familiar" Al questioned, sipping on his whiskey.

The smug bastard grinned before turning to him "I'm the hero that took down that crazy bitch not long ago"

It took all of Alastors' willpower to seem calm and oblivious.

"My, you must be quite the hero then, let me buy you a drink and you can tell me ALL about it" Alastor motioned for a drink to be served, and the unknowing bastard fell right into Alastors wicked game.

It didn't take long to say the least. This prick was an easy target, and now here he was, being buried in a forest in the middle of nowhere.

You surely would not be happy with your dear husband actions... but who could stop him now?

For months, the spilling killer of New orleans went on a rampage, almost no one was safe, not even dear old Marjorie...

Eventually, alastor had killed all the men and women involved in your kidnapping and drugging... and here he was, burying the last one...

What would he do now? You weren't there for him to return to... all his plans revolved around your future with him

I guess all he could do now

Was Die

As if on cue, a bullet pierced Alastors skull straight through his forehead... as everything went black...

Hello! I've been working on this for a while now, at least a week, and I think I'm just going to make another part for this, keep an eye open for it cause it will hold the afterlife of these two lovers!

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #human alastor x reader #human alastor

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itsgrimeytime · 2 days

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feelin' flirty || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn!reader

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Summary: Being a long-lost friend of Maggie's, you wind up at the prison, a line of dead walkers behind you. You are promptly confronted with one Rick Grimes, and it's suddenly your life's goal to flirt with him as much as you can. Rick doesn't usually respond, but what if one day he does?

TWs: innuendos, talk of sex, shameless (and I mean shameless) flirting, mention of both Beth and Hershel's deaths, gunshot wound, blood, guns, knives, and all things TWD.

[[A/N: Tumblr has deleted this THREE times. I am furious, hello??? Also, someone should've been hardcore flirting with Rick, I'll say it. That's what this is based on. Do I have social anxiety? Yes, but am I still writing this? I am. Don't ask questions. ALSO, I do not know the TWD timeline at all, so I am making it up, thank you. Enjoy :))) ]]

With one last stab, you finished off the last... zombie? You didn't really call them anything, since you were alone. Maybe you should think about that a little more.

Wordlessly, you turned and stabbed another square in the head. Undead? No. Zombie? No, too cliché-

Another one.

It went on like that for a few more minutes, before you took a breath -with no answer to your question. Frowning at your knife being covered in... guts, for lack of a better word, you crouched down and wiped it on the grass.

What was that, 15? You didn't really count, but you should have. You were trying to get a new personal best actually-

"Hey!"

You froze, pocketing your knife, before spinning on your heel. The voice was fairly distant, so you weren't worried. Instead, close enough for it to matter, was a big building with high walls and barbed wire at the top of them. A prison. Huh.

"Up here!" The voice called again, and you startled.

Shading your eyes from the sun, you looked up into the watchtower, and sure enough, there was a silhouette. A guy, you think, with dark hair. That was about all you could say.

"Yeah?" You called back, curiously.

"That was cool as shit!"

You laughed out, probably for the first time in months, "Thank you, mysterious stranger!"

"Glenn!" He clarified.

Huh, you pursed your lips, before responding, "Y/N!"

"Nice to meet you!"

You laughed again, before feeling a pain in your stomach. When was the last time you'd eaten? You paused, trying to think. Three days ago (there was a box of Twinkies that hadn't expired yet in a stranded supermarket). Not great.

"Hey, Glenn?" You yelled, a little hopeful.

"Yeah?"

You pursed your lips, before deciding -taking a chance, really, "You got any food in there?"

Now, you were walking through the gate, which was a little dramatic. But, you kinda liked it. It felt like you were kind of a big deal, well, until there was a swarm of eyes on you. All different kinds.

You froze, licking across your teeth.

And then, a man ran up to your side -gasping a little. Was that Glenn? How did he-

He offered his hand to shake, and you accepted it -looking at the crowd, a little defensively.

"Are they going to kill me? Or...?"

"Shit," he turned to them, "-They just want some food, guys, c'mon!"

None of them even flinched.

"I don't bite," you joked, before frowning, "-shit. That was in bad taste-"

And then, a voice called out into the tense air.

"Y/N?"

You peeked over heads, looking, because-

Your eyes locked onto hers, and you nearly jumped in place -big smile blooming along your lips, "Holy shit, Mags?!"

You'd been friends, back in high school. You'd left junior year and tried to keep in touch. It just didn't work out. (You can't even remember now if it was her or you who stopped, at this point.)

Before she could so much as reply, you ran to her -arms wide open. She eagerly reciprocated, spinning a little with the force -you'd gotten pretty good at running at this point.

"What the fuck?" You breathed into her shoulder, and she laughed big and loud, "-What are the chances?"

With a thought, you pulled back -still holding her shoulders, "Are your Dad and Beth here?"

"Yeah," she cheered, and something in you felt relieved. Thank god, they were okay.

"And, you?" She offered, a little hesitantly -notable lack at your side.

You pressed your lips together, swallowing, and shook your head, "Been alone since the beginning."

Maggie frowned, hand coming up to rest on your arm and squeezing once.

"Only lived with my boyfriend," you explained, eager to lighten the mood, "-and he actually cheated on me, so. Wasn't the worst lost."

She laughed a little, before asking -carefully, "And your family?"

Something in your chest stung, you wordlessly shook your head. (Visions of unhinged jaws and blood filling it.)

She frowned, whispering her apologies before hugging you again. You leaned into it that time.

And then, you jumped back, excited, "You have to bring me to your family, Mags, it's been so long-"

"Ya 'ave to talk to Rick first," a voice grumbled out behind you.

You spun on your heel, facing a man. Tall, brunette, dark eyes, arms crossed in front of him (strong, you noted), but you could tell in his stance. He was a layer of stone walls, and you did not want to mine.

And then, your eyes smoothed across his back. Is that a fucking crossbow? Sick.

"Whose Rick?" You asked instead, Maggie still holding your arm.

"Whose askin'?"

That, was a good voice. Was your first thought as you turned back around, and your eyes landed on a figure.

Your voice got stuck in your throat.

He was tall, stood like he owned the place (and based on the recommendation, maybe he did), all broad shoulders and strong gaze. Speaking of gaze, he had probably the bluest eyes you'd ever seen. And his hair was brown and curly, a few hung forward on his face. His jaw was unspeakable, and his button-up shirt had a few extra buttons undone to account for the heat. Holy shit.

Maggie elbowed you, and you blinked.

"Uh, me," you answered, clearing your throat -motioning to Glenn, "-he said you had some food and I'm... hungry."

Maggie promptly stomped on your toe. You pressed your lips together trying not to laugh, carefully looking over his face to see if he'd picked up on it at all. Nothing. A shame, really.

Oh well, maybe next time.

"Look, Rick," she interrupted your thoughts, "-I know 'em, really well. Y/N is a good person."

Rick's eyes dipped to you, looking you over. Oh, the words were right there on the tip of your tongue. It would be so easy-

You're trying to survive, Y/N, your mind pressed, focus.

You bit at your lip, but before you could speak for yourself, Glenn did.

"I saw 'em take on a swarm outside," he added, eyes darting to Maggie (Huh.), "-without breaking a sweat."

There are other things I can do without breaking a sweat, your brain immediately remarked, this really was too easy.

Rick seemed to think about it a second, before turning to you, "Ya got a gun?"

I'd like to be loaded with-

"No," you cleared your throat, pulling out your knife (it was one of those multicolored ones, it's why you liked it clean), "-just this."

He hummed, tilting his head with a mouth shrug, "'At's impressive."

I bet your-

You pinched your arm, swallowing, "So, what? Am I in or not?"

Rick's eyes flicked up and down you again (so easy), before he decided, "Ya can stay."

That brings you to now, sitting with Maggie outside with a can of baked beans and a spoon in your hands.

You currently had quite the view of Rick working on the farm, sweat dripping down his brow, strained arms. You'd never thought about farming in that way, but now you were.

"Is his full name Richard?" You asked, curiously.

Maggie turned to you, watching the trail of your eyes to see what you were looking at. She rolled her eyes, "I don't know."

You put a spoonful into your mouth, humming around it, "There's a reason they call them 'Dick', you know."

"Oh my god," she shoved into you -making you laugh a little. You stared down into your can.

"I'm just saying," you stressed, "-he's hot enough for it."

Maggie paused a second, before deciding to say, "His wife died."

"Shit," your smile fell.

"Died in childbirth," she continued, something distant in her eyes -you wondered what exactly it was.

"How long ago?" You asked gently, looking at him in a new light -sympathizing.

"Few months," she answered, a little shortly. You pursed your lips, debating whether to say anything. Or if you even should.

Maggie clarified, herself, "I delivered the baby. Judith, her name is Judith."

"Fuck, Mags," you fully turned to her, putting the can by your feet, "-I'm so sorry."

She took a deep breath in and out, and you wrapped an arm around her shoulders pushing her into your side, "Thanks."

"No problem," you hummed, picking your can back up and letting your eyes drift to Rick again, adding, "-I'm great with babies, you know."

"You're ridiculous," she laughed, taking the bite you offered her.

"What?" You asked, "-Staring isn't bad. He's practically a piece of art, I'm just..."

He turned to the two of you then, blue eyes flickering along your faces -you did not move your gaze at all.

Instead, you gently waved, finishing, "-admiring him."

Rick furrowed his eyebrows for a second, waving back, and then, shaking his head smiling. Count that as a win.

You gnawed at your lip a second, "Do you think he picked up on my 'hungry' thing? I was looking at him and I-"

Maggie laughed, "He definitely did. Everyone did, Y/N, you're shameless."

"It's the apocalypse," you urged, "-who gives a fuck about shame anymore? Rick is hot, and as long as he lets me, I will flirt with him. The more you resist, the more I commit. You remember James in first period?"

She hummed, "I do."

"I chased him for half a year," you continued, swirling the spoon around the can, "-and it worked, didn't it? Guys hardly get properly flattered," your eyes dipped back to him, tone going low, "-I don't mind taking on that duty for the population."

Maggie laughed again, as you just kept your eyes on him. He had dirt on his hands now, wiping at his brow, and just a few curls hung forward on his forehead. God, how did you find him in the apocalypse?

"How valiant," she deadpanned, "-You're a real hero."

"Look, just because you have a type, Glenn, and you bagged him-"

"How did you-"

"Please," you teased, "-he practically ate you earlier with his eyes. Back to my point, I, at least, get to look."

She turned to you, "Ya don't want to date him?"

"Who said that, Mags?" You smirked, turning to her with a smile with eyes that spoke for themselves.

"You know he has kids, right?" She questioned, looking at you.

"So?" you waved the spoon around in your hand, "-Single dads? Hot. Kids? Cute. Where's the loss?"

Maggie looked at you a moment, before shaking her head, "You are clinically insane."

"Maybe," you offered, still watching him, "-but the world's fucked up too. So, at least, I'm not alone."

She laughed really hard at that one, and you felt eyes all over switch to you. Blue ones too. People didn't really seem to laugh around here, so you decided that was your mission too, get people to laugh more. Maybe they could go hand-in-hand.

Time to get to work.

Daryl was sitting across from you, you'd been bugging him for the past few weeks and he'd finally relented. It wasn't easy, but you were nothing if not persistent (hence the Rick situation). Or maybe stubborn. Both? Whatever.

"Daryl, listen," you pointed out, "-you have to take time to load up the bow."

"'At don't mean nothin'," he countered.

"It does," you stressed, explaining, "-in the amount of time it takes you to put in a new arrow, I would have killed at least two."

Daryl rolled his eyes, "It doesn't take 'at long."

"Who said it takes me long to kill two walkers?"

Rick walked by then, and Daryl stopped him.

"Rick, please, take 'em away from me," he spoke out, gruff, but something in you could tell that he wasn't being serious. The guy wasn't half the mystery you expected him to be.

Rick laughed a little at the plea, eyes on you, "What are ya doin' to him?"

"It's not that bad," you laughed, explaining, "-I was just talking about if we were pit against each other to kill the most walkers in a minute. And who would win."

"An' ya want me to help decide?"

"Daryl does," you clarified, "-I am fully confident in my abilities."

Rick laughed a little (another win), "Well, I kno' Daryl's skills, so tell me yours, so it's even."

You bit at your lip, debating. God, it would be so easy. All you had to do was-

"Well," you smiled, playfully, "-I'm told I'm very good with my hands."

He blinked, and it was silent a moment before you heard a snort beside you. You immediately flung to look at him, you had just made Daryl laugh-

"No way," you stressed out, throwing yourself to your feet -pointing at him, "-you just laughed at me."

Daryl pressed his lips together into a thin line, sniffing once, "No, I didn't."

You spun to Rick, and he was already looking at you, you didn't think about it too much.

"Rick," you begged, "-c'mon. I know you and him are like... buddies, but I-"

"Buddies?" He quirked a brow, smiling. Something stirred in your stomach.

"Look, I don't fucking know," you rolled your eyes, "-just agree with me."

He bit down a smile at you, before turning to Daryl, "Ya did laugh at 'em."

"Ha," you cheered, "-I made Daryl Dixon laugh. And, I would win against you."

"He didn't say 'at," Daryl instantly defended.

"Didn't have to, Dixon," you mocked, playfully, "-it's about time management."

"Time management?" Rick questioned curiously.

"Okay, think of this, Rick," you explained, leveling him with your full focus (god he was handsome), "-when you fight with a bow, or a gun for that matter, you have to reload."

He grinned a little at you.

"Follow me, follow me," you hummed, pulling out your knife, "-when you have a physical sort of attack method, like a knife, you don't have that same time issue."

"Ya kinda do though," he interjected.

You paused, looking at him -thoughtfully, "How so?"

"Body's gotta build up energy again," he reasoned (with too much thought for this dumb conversation, smart too? god has favorites), "-Stamina is key to attackin'."

You rolled your lip in between your teeth, he had to be doing this on purpose at this point. Seriously.

"Trust me, sheriff," you spoke -a teeny bit teasing but otherwise very genuine, "-there is no problem with my stamina."

Rick bit back a laugh, turning his head to the side and smiling. You thought you saw a little red on the tips of his ears. Cute. You were unraveling the layers of one Rick Grimes, that was progress.

Daryl didn't even try to hide it that time, letting a gruff chuckle leave his lips, "'M glad I'm not your focus for 'at."

You patted his shoulder, standing up, "It'll be devastating one day, Robin Hood. Don't come crying to me when it is."

"Did ya just call me Robin Hood?"

Rick laughed at that one, head tilting up to the sky. You smiled wide.

"Look at that," you hummed, proud, "-a two for one. Which-"

They both looked at you, but you stuck to your guns. And you smirked a little.

"-honestly, I would not mind," you added -thoughtfully, "-Think about it, and get back to me."

You walked backward a few steps, watching as Rick smiled at you before turning back to fix his gaze on Daryl. Smiling at the ground, you spun on your heel, and went off to find someone else to pester.

You felt a pair of eyes follow you though, and you maybe grinned a little brighter.

Now, you were wandering off on your own. On your own run, you liked to do that sometimes. Maggie nearly had a heart attack because of it, but what damage you did get was usually minor. Except for once, but that wasn't your fault. Well it was, you smashed a window with your fist to see if you could do it. And you could, which was impressive.

Now, you were strolling through an old novelty store -little knick-knacks. Finding some figurines, you grabbed a superhero one and stashed it away. Your eyes caught on a DVD player, the kind for both music and movies, and you picked it up -turning it over in your hands. Battery powered.

On a mission to find both DVDs and some batteries, you roamed through some aisles -particularly a mug one.

Peeking through at some of them, you paused. Taking your pack off and slipping the DVD player into it (along with the few good DVDs you found, no batteries though) on top of some canned food you'd found, you zipped it up. And with a breath, grabbed a mug.

Smiling big, you made your way out of the store.

When you got back to the prison, Maggie was waiting for you -tapping her feet, anxiously. She was a little like a mother, you weren't sure how you felt about it. But you loved her so, you dealt with it.

"Hey Mags," you cheered, mug handle twisted between your fingers.

She instantly relaxed, eyes scanning you over before dropping to the mug. She frowned.

"Please, tell me-"

"I got some food," you sighed, "-I'm not entirely useless."

She pursed her lips, "And the mug?"

You grinned, holding it up for her to see -tapping your fingers along both sides. Her eyes skimmed over it before she frowned (biting back a smile, you could tell).

"Seriously?" She asked.

"What?" You responded, groaning, "-I can't get gifts?"

She shoved into your side, and before you could take too many steps, you were met with your target -leaning against the fence, few steps from Maggie. Was he waiting for you too?

"Rick," you dropping your hands, particularly to avoid him from reading the text, "-what are you doing here?"

"Ya do 'at a lot?" He asked, a little pointedly. You thought you recognized something a little like worry in it, "-Go off on your own?"

Huh.

"Yeah," you laughed a little, "-you haven't noticed? I've been getting like... half the food we have."

Rick hummed (a little in appreciation) before his eyes dropped to your hands, "And what's 'at?"

"A gift," you extended it to him, unflinchingly.

He pulled himself from his spot on the wall, walking forward and accepting it. His fingers (great fingers, really. Was that weird to say?) wrapping around it, you noticed for a second that your fingers brushed -your breath halted a little in place.

"A mug?" He asked looking at you for a second, eyebrows furrowed.

You took your hand, and spun it around in his hands -brushing his skin against yours, "The other side."

He smiled a little, laughing.

Right there on a rather plain mug, were the words '#1 HOT DAD'.

He bit back a smile, eyes peeking up at you again, "Ya really ain't gonna let 'is go, are ya?"

"Nope," you popped the 'p', before clarifying, "-unless you want me to."

Rick licked a line against his teeth, grinning a little with something in his eye, "Who said 'at?"

"Noted," you smiled back, something fluttering in your chest, "-now, where's Carl? I got him something good."

"Ya got him somethin' too?"

He was looking at you a little curiously, like he was seeing new layers of you. You kind of wanted to squirm a little at his gaze. You were not used to people figuring you out.

You sighed, quickly turning your pack to the front and unzipping it. With a breath, you dug around and pulled out the figurine -Rick's eyes caught on it immediately. A small smile creeping along his mouth.

"He told me once he liked comics," you clarified, clearing your throat, "-figured he would like this. You... You think he will?"

"He'll love it," he answered, something new in his eyes, "-C'mon, I'll take ya to him."

On the way there, he seemed to pause a moment, something on his mind. You patiently waited for him to say it.

"'Saw somethin' else in 'ere," he mindlessly remarked, as the mug swung between his fingers "-What is it?"

"Oh," you pulled your pack foward again, excited, extending the figurine to him for safekeeping (he took it with a smile), "-a DVD player."

You held it in your hands, showing to him.

"Found some DVDs, good ones," you continued, before putting it back in your bag, and accepting the figurine back (your fingers brushed again), "-no batteries though."

Rick hummed, pursing his lips like he was thinking about something. He didn't say a word though.

You didn't have much time to think about it, because a few days after that, the prison fell. You'd escaped with Rick and Carl, but you weren't exactly yourself. Not after everything.

There was Judith, and Maggie, and... and Beth and Hershel. Every day felt like there was bile turning in your stomach; every time you closed your eyes, you saw someone... someone dead.

You were lying against the grass, looking up at the stars -it was still so pretty. Despite it all, the sky was still the same. Bright and twinkly. It was when everyone was on the road, wandering for a place to go. You just couldn't sleep, so you took it upon yourself to just look at the sky. You thought the clouds might be pretty, but the night was a little breathtaking.

"Ya awake?"

You didn't say a word.

"C'mon, Y/N, I know ya are."

"Yeah, I am," you sighed, saying shortly, "-Can't sleep."

There was an echo of footsteps, and then you felt body heat beside you. There was a beat.

"Ya ain't gonna say anythin'?" Rick hummed, turning his head to face you.

You matched his eyes (he's probably more handsome now, honestly), "About what?"

"Me, ya know," he motioned, to your side, "-layin' with ya."

You laughed at him a little, before teasing, "Awe, you miss it, don't you, sheriff?"

"Not a sheriff anymore," he hummed, something a little heavy in his voice.

"Eh," you shrugged, looking back to the stars, "-you still are in my mind."

Rick smiled at you, wordlessly.

Before you added, plainly, "Mostly because I love a man in uniform."

He laughed then, big and bright, and you felt something warm in your chest that you knew but hadn't felt in a while.

You wanted to be genuine, really genuine.

"You are a good man, Rick," you turned to look at him, and he looked straight back, "-We've all done shit we never should've, and maybe it's fucked us up a little bit, moved our path in the wrong direction once or twice, but-"

You looked back up to the sky, still feeling his eyes on you. It was kind of like a dream, like the apocalypse wasn't real for a second, just you and Rick. And maybe you wanted that a lot more than you knew.

"-you've got a big heart, Rick," you finished, soundly, "-And even if sometimes you lose sight of what you're doing, or maybe who you are, that... that doesn't change."

Rick didn't say anything for a moment, words echoing out into the night air. You couldn't find it in yourself to regret them, though. You never really regret what you said these days, there was no reason too.

You really only regret what you didn't say. Maybe to people who aren't around anymore. Your heart sunk a little in your chest, but it felt a little lighter -just a smidgen. (Maybe because of who you were with.)

"I got somethin' for ya," Rick suddenly spoke, sitting up (you followed suit).

You furrowed your eyebrows, "You got me something? When?"

Mindlessly, he replied, "On the last run."

You pursed your lips but waited patiently. He moved over to his pack, unzipping one of his pockets and pulling something out -you couldn't quite see. Trying to peek you moved over a little, but nothing.

With a breath, he stood back up and waltzed over to you (somehow he made walking hot, they needed to research that), extending it forward right into your face.

You blinked, gently taking it into your hands and looking at it closely. It was dark so you couldn't really-

Batteries. He handed you a pack of AA batteries.

"No way," you laughed out, "-you remembered that?"

"I remember a lot of what ya say," he offered casually, and you felt something shoot down your spine. And with a breath, he sat right beside you, so close your knees bumped a little.

Pulling your bag over to you, you dug around in it. You'd kept the DVD player and DVDs, not really with the hope of finding batteries. But, to feel a little human, remember life before.

You'd taken to putting stickers on it when you saw any, so the top of it was covered in an assortment. You ran your fingers over it a second, taking it in, before flipping it over. Popping open the little tab, you let out a breath of relief when it was AAs.

Rick laughed.

"I was going to be so pissed if it wasn't," you spoke, "-you have no idea."

He just looked at you then, in a way you'd seen before but never really thought about. You turned back to your bag, shuffling around to find your stash.

"You want music or a movie?"

"Movie's fine," he hummed, and you still felt his eyes trained solely on you. You tried to shake it off.

"Let's see," you pulled out a few of the movies you had, showing them to Rick, "-I've got... a kid's animated movie, or... a... cheesy romcom!"

Rick stared at you, instead of the movies, before flickering to them.

Rambling, you continued, "I also picked up some horror stuff, but I... I really think that was a bad move on my part."

He laughed again, just looking at you in a way you didn't really know how to label. Or react to. You were kind of a little overwhelmed at the fact that he'd even gotten you the batteries, and then the way he was looking at you-

"Think romcom sounds good," he interrupted your thoughts, scanning over you.

"Alright," you acknowledged, putting the other ones up, and scooting back next to him -not enough to touch. It was a little awkward and you weren't sure how you were going to-

"I don't bite ya know," he quipped, laughing a little.

You turned to him, grinning, "Well maybe I do."

Rick laughed again for a moment, just looking at you. And then he extended out an arm, welcoming you into his side.

You paused a moment, before carefully guiding yourself to slot into him; the back of your head against his shoulder, and his arm wrapped around the back of your shoulders. You brought your knees up, to carefully balance the DVD player (shaped like a little laptop really). A tiny little screen for the two of you to see on. Logistically, that's why you were so close but a part of you thought a little otherwise.

"I don't," you hummed.

"What?"

"I don't bite."

He laughed a little, "Good."

"Unless you want me to-"

And the laughter that filled the night was just between you and him. And maybe in the morning, you were fast asleep on his shoulder and maybe he looked at you a little like you were the greatest thing he'd ever seen and maybe he shushed all the others just to have the moment last even a second longer.

You'd never really know.

Now, you were in Alexandria. You'd gotten Maggie back, you'd gotten Judith back. You were on a new high, and that meant two things. More pestering, and two, flirting with Rick.

You were walking through Alexandria with Maggie, just keeping her on her feet really. She wasn't super pregnant yet, and it was good to be healthy.

"I cannot believe you're pregnant," you mindlessly remarked, holding Judith close to your side.

"I have been," she retorted, "-for a while. Think ya have had time to digest it."

"But, it's like physical proof that you fucked," you commented, "-unprotected, by the way. I know you missed that sex-ed day, but seriously-"

"Carl's proof that Rick fucked," Maggie defended, eyes smoothing over him with a few of his friends.

"Well," you pursed your lips, "-I know that Rick fucked. Just on principle, he's-"

She motioned for you to zip it, "Don't start. I know you are doin' good, which is great. But it also means ya become a lil' unbearable."

"Me? Unbearable?" You turned to Judith, cooing a little, "-Can you believe the nerve of her, Jude?"

Judith smiled at you with her big brown eyes and toothless little mouth. You pinched her cheek, instinctively, "So cute."

"I still can't believe that you're in love with Ri-"

"I told you that in confidence," you interrupted, pointed.

Maggie stuck out her tongue at you and Judith laughed a little at it. Funny faces, right. You could physically see the pregnancy hormones on her face as she cooed at Judith.

You would've said something, but you had just done it yourself.

"Where's your keeper anyway?" You hummed like you'd been stuck with her (you actively searched her out).

"'E's not my keeper," she responded, sternly (mom voice, already?), "-and he's out on run, gettin' supplies."

"If he's not your keeper, how'd you know who I was talking about?"

"You are so-"

Before she could finish such a kind sentence, the two of you were interrupted. A presence waltzing up to your side.

You turned to look who, and-

Your heart lept into your throat. It was Rick, now clean-shaven, and although, you had loved the beard (don't even get you started), his jaw was on full display. Blue, blue eyes. And dipping to his clothes, he was in a damn uniform.

"Look at you, Rick," you complimented, smiling.

"'Heard ya liked a man in uniform," he smiled (a new type of way), and winked. And before you could say a word, he walked forward -past you.

You stuttered to a stop, Maggie right beside you. Blinking you turned to her, and she looked right back at you. And then you both turned to look at Rick, still walking the same way he was.

Turning back forward, you opened your mouth, "Sorry, did that just happen?"

Maggie hummed, pulling you with her, "It did."

"How did I never think of that?"

"Think of what?" She offered, as you smoothed back into a step with her.

You answered, eyebrows furrowing, "That he might flirt back."

She shrugged, "If it helps, I never thought he would."

"I am not against shoving a pregnant woman," you hissed back, with no bite. You never really had any. And you both broke into laughter, as you roamed through Alexandria.

Now, Daryl was leaning against a house as you stood beside him -pestering as always.

"No, listen," you turned to him, attentively, "-it's called fuck, marry, kill-"

"I ain't playing it with ya."

"C'mon, Daryl, it's fun, look-" you flagged down Glenn (who was carrying a box, of what, who knows?), "-Glenn, fuck, marry, kill. Michonne, Carol, and Daryl."

"Easy," he laughed, "-fuck Michonne, marry Carol, and sorry, dude, but kill Daryl."

"See?" You motioned to Glenn, as he walked forward.

"Don't ya 'ave a wife?" Daryl remarked, as Glenn moved along.

"Oh please," you shook your hand dismissively, "-it's all just fun. Just hypothetical scenarios."

"Okay, now," you started over, "-fuck, marry, kill. Deanna-"

"Kill," he answered -unflinchingly.

"See!" you cheered, "-you're getting the hang of it-"

"What are the two of ya doin'?"

You turned to see the one and only Rick Grimes, a little more worn today, which you kind of preferred, still had those bandaids on (how did he make that look hot?), and more casually dressed. In the white t-shirt, we trust.

"I'm teaching Daryl how to play fuck, marry, kill," you answered, eyes solid on him, "-obviously."

Before he could respond, Daryl chimed up, something mischievous in his eyes. You squinted at him, trying to figure it out. And then he opened his mouth.

"I got one," he spoke, a smile teasing on his lips (looking at Rick, directly), "-Y/N, Glenn, and Rosita."

You stared at the eye contact for a moment (everything was so suspicious), before asking, "What am I supposed to do with myself?"

Daryl shrugged, you bit your lip a second.

"I guess I could kill myself, big waste, but-" you paused, "-ooh, wait, I could, like, clone situation fuck myself-"

"Now, 'at would be a sight to see," a low southern drawl interrupted your words, and your voice faltered to a stop.

You turned to him, squinting at him for a second -trying to understand. All he did was wink at you again, and you hated that it made your knees a little wobbly. Especially when he was holding onto the column of the porch, and slightly leaning toward you-

"Before I was so rudely interrupted," you cleared your throat, "-I would marry Glenn, fuck Rosita, and, tragically, kill myself."

Daryl nodded his head, before motioning to Rick, "What 'bout ya?"

"Am I playin'?" He questioned, finger pointing to himself and eyes dashing to you.

"Might as well," you shrugged, "-you're already over here."

He pursed his lips a second like he was thinking, eyes particularly avoiding you, "An' I can't choose one person for two of 'em?"

You swallowed, oh, he was playing dirty.

"Nope," Daryl answered.

And then, he turned into something much softer, something more familiar, "Then, marry Y/N, fuck Rosita, and kill Glenn."

Marry?

Your heart lept into your throat, and your fingers started fidgeting with your shirt -instinctively. How the hell was he winning? I started this game-

"Thought so," Daryl responded.

And out of the corner of your eye, you saw Carol. Her eyes matched yours a second, and you tried to convey how desperate you were to get away from this very scene. Her eyebrows furrowed for a second, but then she spoke.

"Hey, Y/N! Can you come help me with the food?"

"Of course, Carol," you called back, smiling at the two of them, "-sorry, duty calls."

Rick just grinned at you then, like he knew exactly what you were doing. And you were 100% sure he did. Stupid handsome men with stupidly beautiful blue eyes. Ignoring the fact that you physically brushed against him to get off the porch, you frantically caught up to Carol.

You were in the pantry now, gathering ingredients, Carol directing you -naming them as she found them.

"So," she looked at you, "-are you gonna tell me what that was about?"

You pursed your lips, before answering, "Rick's flirting back with me."

Carol raised her eyebrows at you, "Huh."

"And I was teaching Daryl how to play fuck, marry, kill, and he-" you rapted your fingernails along one of the cans, "-and he said he'd marry me. But all... genuine and shit."

"And that's bad?"

"No, no," you shook your head, putting the can into a basket, "-It's not bad. Just... I don't know if he means it."

"You just said that he said it genuinely," Carol pointed out, grabbing another can.

"Well yeah, but-" you scrambled a moment, "-all that time ago, I was flirting genuinely. I mean even though it was playful, it was still genuine."

"And," she connected the dots, "-you're not sure if he's genuine?"

"Yeah," you skimmed along the shelves, gathering the last can she needed.

"Well," she took it from your hand, blue eyes on you softly, "-if it's worth anything, I think he's genuine. And maybe this is his way of showing how he feels about you."

You hummed, wordlessly.

"He's let you flirt with him this long," she continued, bringing a hand up to your shoulder, "-that has to mean something, doesn’t it?"

She had a point.

"Now," she adjusted the basket, "-are you actually going to help me with the food? Or was it just an excuse to run away from Rick?"

You laughed, "I'll help, I'll help. I'm not a total dick. Speaking of-"

She turned to you.

"Do you know if Rick's full name is Richard?"

It was a few weeks later, and they were filled with frustratingly blue winks. And that was one thing, but now you were being stupid. You were stupid.

You'd thought Oh, it'll be just like old times, I'll go out on a run. It'll be so nice-

And now you were walking with a gunshot would, quickly bandaged by a rip of your t-shirt and whatever you had around you. Which in whatever the hell store it was, was not a lot. All you'd managed to find was alcohol so you at least soaked the shirt.

You'd blearily walked all the way home, eyes foggy, and praying that a walker wouldn't come near you. And now you saw it, Alexandria.

"Gabriel," you called, breathlessly, "-Gabriel, please let me in."

You heard him say something but you were delirious. Maybe something with your name? Head fuzzy and eyes bleary, you were coming down from the high of getting somewhere safe. As you waltzed into Alexandria (pain in the abdomen so hot it almost felt numbing), there was a swarm of people around you immediately. Felt like you were back in the prison, when Maggie would be waiting and you think she was now.

"Hey, hey," she chanted, grabbing your face (and you could see her now), "-look at me, Y/N, tell me what the hell happened."

"Some guy, the bitch," you muttered out, a little slurred you think, "-just shot me, because he wanted the last of the damn Campbell soup, who shoots someone for Campbell soup?"

Her eyes dropped to your body, you mindlessly noted that it was sticky. Your eyes dropped too, and saw all the red -so much red.

"I think I lost a lot of blood, Mags."

"Somebody go get Rick, and the doctor, now," she shouted (loud, loud), before turning back to you, "-How the hell did you get here?"

"I walked," you answered simply.

"You walked?" She responded, hands on your shoulders, "-How did you-"

You were safe now, and everything in your body just gave out.

"Adrenaline is a hell of a drug," you hummed, laughing a little, before falling to the ground.

Your head stung from the ground, as Maggie tried to get down by your side -all pregnant belly.

"'S okay, Mags, don't-" you mumbled "-don't hurt yourself."

She frowned, and you thought she might have tears in her eyes, "I have to stay with you, Y/N, whose going to keep you awake-"

"Glenn," you called, and you saw him saunter up to your side, a little slurred, "-take care of 'er, help her sit. Don't worry, Mags, don't worry-"

You heard a slap of footsteps then, quick and brisk, and before you could wonder who, blue eyes and rough hands were guiding your face. He was starting to grow his stubble back, you mindlessly noted.

"Rick," you smiled a little fuzzily, reaching up and patting his face, "-See Mags, Rick'll take care of me."

"Hey, hey," he brought your focus to him, "-keep lookin' at me, okay?"

"Well," you slurred a little, "-'at's not very hard, sheriff."

He turned to the crowd then, voice low and gruff, "What the hell happened?"

You heard Maggie respond then, through sobs, "'Ey said that some guy shot 'em, over a... over some food."

"Didn't even ask if he could have 'em, first. Who does that-"

"Daryl," he motioned -tone low, and he immediately nodded. You watched him leave your eyesight.

Rick instead, brought your face back to him, as you recognized the doctor to be by your side, scrambling with some white stuff.

"Hey, hey, baby," he spoke, low in a whisper, "-I'm 'ere, focus on me. Look at me."

You smiled again, delirious, "You called me baby, that feels nice. Everythin' else burns-"

"I kno', I kno'," he soothed, you felt pressure on your abdomen (hissing in pain, as your eyes got more blurry), "-ya did a good job gettin' back 'ere. To where you're safe. Ya did a good job."

"Just kept walking," you slurred, "-couldn't stop. Wasn't gonna die to some asshole."

Rick laughed then a little, and you felt something a little different than pain. Your hands naturally came to his face, mindlessly rubbing your thumbs against his cheekbones. He's always been so handsome, only gets better with time.

You noticed he leaned into it a little, careful not to hurt you. Yeah, you realized, he was genuine.

God, what if you had missed out on this, with Rick? All because of some stupid can of soup-

"Rick," you started, and he looked at you a little like you held the world, you were the world maybe, "-I think I'm gonna die."

"You're not, no-" he held his hand over yours (it was so warm. Why had you never held his hand?), "-You're not gonna die, baby. You're gonna be fine."

"I'm bleeding," you breathed out, scanning over him, "-Been bleeding the whole time. You're not supposed to bleed that much, Rick."

"Ya ain't gonna die," he repeated, hands gathering your face, "-Look at me, ya ain't dyin'."

Concern clear on his face, you felt the urge to soothe, soothe, soothe-

You looked at him, eyes scanning over his face. He was handsome, yeah, but he was caring, smart, and so, so kind. You wanted to tell him that, see what he'd say. What he'd do.

"'Said that you were a good man, 'at you have a big heart," you hummed, eyes languidly blinking, "-still mean it. Don't you forget it."

He looked at you for a second, eyes flicking all over your face, before looking to the doctor. She must've said something (your ears felt stuffy) because then Rick was picking you up. He was everywhere, smell, sight. All you could feel was Rick, body heat thrumming and blooming into your side.

"Always knew you were strong," you mindlessly remarked.

You felt Rick laugh in his chest, and your eyelids were so heavy then. You slowly began blinking, your brain slowing down. Maybe you could close your eyes just for a little bit.

"Got so much to say to ya."

And then, it all faded to black.

This blanket is scratchy as hell, you mindlessly remarked. It was almost like a thin sheet, barely coating you, and you think if you moved your arms, it would make that noise that shitty bedsheets did. Why were hospital beds so bad? Shouldn't they be comfortable?

And then your nose was hit with the heavy sterilized air. You scrunched your nose up on instinct, it made your throat burn-

"Y/N? Darlin'?"

You slowly blinked your eyes open, heavy and languid; they always had those florescent lights too. How was that helpful?

"'S too fucking bright in here."

You heard him laugh a little, maybe in relief mostly, and you blearily blinked to get a look at him.

"'D turn it down for ya if I could."

You laughed a little and squinted your eyes open, laying gently on him. He looked a little worse for wear, his hair messy and shirt a little crooked. You wanted to fix his curls back in place, and your hand moved before you could stop it.

Gently, you threaded his hair back. He was a breath away from where you laid, so it wasn't too far of a reach.

Rick looked at you so softly, that the words cut off your from your lips. And with a breath, he pulled your hand down from his hair, sliding it against his cheek. Before you could say a word about it, he turned his head and gently kissed your palm.

You bit at your lip, eyes flickering over him, "How long have you been here?"

"Since the doc' allowed me to be," he answered, fidgeting with your hand -not really wanting to let go, you guessed.

"And Mags?" You asked, concern flickering through your eyes, "-Are she and the baby okay?"

"Yeah," he looked at you, a little in disbelief, "-they're alright. She was stressed, yeah, but Glenn kept 'er calm."

"And," your eyes darted to your abdomen, where your wound now hid, "-the wound?"

"Good," he replied, eyes swimming over you like he couldn't quite believe you were okay, "-Doc' says ya just need to rest, not irritate the stitches. Which I kno' will be hard for ya."

You sighed, leaning your head back onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling, "I am going to be so bored."

Rick chuckled a little, before falling suspiciously quiet. You turned to him, just to see him looking down and fidgeting with your hand -a little like he was working on saying something. You simply waited.

"'Ve been looking for those batteries since ya said ya wanted 'em," he spoke, a little quietly.

You froze, "Since the prison?"

"Yeah," he offered, "-apparently 'ey're a hot commodity."

"Why?" You questioned, looking at him curiously, "-Why all that work for some batteries?"

"Because," he hummed simply, eyes matching yours now, "-ya wanted 'em."

You pushed your lips into a thin line, the glimmer of hope sparking in your chest. Not saying a word, you just stared at him for a second; not unlike in the early days, you were just admiring him for a lot more than his (still unbelievably handsome) face.

"Y/N, I-" he started, eyes dipping back down to your hands. He seemed to pause a moment, debating.

And then he looked up at you, eyes set in his path -unflinchingly. In a sort of understanding, like everything made sense to him now. The silence was heavy until he leaned forward and brushed his hand along your cheek -carefully. It made you feel precious, and your eyes maybe got a little cloudy because of it.

"I'm in love with ya," he let out a breath, tone heavy and genuine, "-an... and the way ya blatantly hit on me but in the damn most genuine type of way."

You laughed a little and leaned gently into his palm. He looked at you in a way you couldn't label then, or maybe you could (love), and rubbed his thumb along your cheekbone.

"I didn't know how to react to it, at first," he hummed, something settled in his eyes, "-the attention ya gave me. 'S somethin' I've never dealt with before."

"Really?" You let slip past your lips, and his grin grew wide as he let his head fall and shook it, smiling at the ground.

"Even now," he laughed a little, turning his gaze up again, "-ya always said thin's like it was so easy to do. Like ya were tellin' me 'at the sun was hot."

"You did give me some pretty good set ups," you clarified, smiling at him.

"'Never meant to," he added, grinning a little in wonder, "-I couldn't think straight when ya said 'em, so I'm surprised I even did."

You hummed, eyes twinkling at him and he looked at you just a little more like he was in love. It made a spark shoot down to your toes, warmth flooding your chest.

"If it's worth anything," you spoke, a little embarrassed, "-my brain stops working when you do the fond thing."

"The fond thing?"

"It's just," you sighed, trying to articulate, "-It's a way that you look at me, or... or smile at me. When you do the soft stuff."

"What exactly is-" he hummed, gently, holding your attention like your words really mattered, "-'the soft stuff'?"

"Uh," you blew a raspberry with your lips, "-like giving me the batteries, and... and that whole conversation actually."

"Oh," he laughed a little, blue eyes twinkling, "-like I was in love with ya."

"What? No, you weren't... not that early-"

And then you looked at him.

"Shit," you marveled, "-really?"

"Like I said," he smiled at you, a little like you were cute, "-I looked for those batteries for months. For ya. An'-"

His face got a little more serious.

"-I really missed ya. 'At was probably when I first realized it."

You rolled your lip inbetween your teeth, "Yeah?"

"Ya used to make everybody laugh, and were always smilin'-" he explained, "-it wasn't even just the flirtin', it was just... I knew ya were hurtin', an' I couldn't help. Or I... I didn't know what to do to help."

You just stared.

"An' I missed ya so desperately, I just-" he let out a breath, "-It all clicked into place, and I went on 'at run, hopin' to god there were batteries-"

You laughed a little weepily, leaning into his hand.

"-because I just wanted to make ya feel better. Bring ya back to me."

"How the hell did you even find them?" You questioned, wiping at your eyes, "-It couldn't have been that lucky."

"'Wasn't," he replied simply, "-I was only supposed to do a few stores, I did the whole strip."

"God, really?" You smiled, "-For batteries?"

"No," he hummed, simply, "-for ya."

You fell quiet.

"I would do anythin' for ya," he added, voice a little breathless, "-anythin'."

"Anything?"

Rick laughed a little, grin bright, "Ya need to rest, baby."

"That's not a no," you chimed, grinning.

He looked at you a certain type of way then, "'S definitely not a no."

You felt your heart pound in your chest for a moment. That was something to look forward to. Something stirred in your stomach.

"What?" He asked, teasing, "-Ya all bark and no bite, hmm?"

"If I wasn't bedridden," you spoke flatly, "-I would kick your ass."

"Ya would," he agreed.

And you laughed, eyes smoothing over his face. Before noticing something you hadn't quite said yet.

Words fell out of your lips, "Even though you probably already know, because I've chasing you all this time-"

He smiled at you.

"-I love you too," you finished, "-if it wasn't obvious."

"'Was kinda obvious," he leveled -teasing, but something was sparkling so bright in his eyes that you didn't really mind.

"Yeah, yeah," you moved your hand dismissively, "-don't start, sheriff."

You paused for a moment, eyes dancing along the room, "Do I get to go home today?"

"No," he spoke, with a certainty that shook through your bones (this man had literally everything), "-'Need to be taken care of, so ya are stayin' wit' me until you're healed."

You blinked at him, he was doing the fond thing again. Your mind relaxed to a low hum.

"Maybe after too," he added, tone softer but not any less certain, "-if ya want."

You stared at him, wordless.

Rick blinked, looking at you, before grinning, "'At the fond thing?"

"Yeah," you cleared your throat, embarrassed, "-I don't... It's been a long time since I've been cared for. At all. And you're a very handsome man offering to-"

"Not offerin'," he clarified, eyes set on yours, "-just doin'. 'Specially now, 'cause I kno' ya love me too."

All headstrong, decisive, and certain. How was this happening to you?

"'Thought you said it was obvious?"

"It was," he hummed, grinning at you, "-I could just barely wrap my head around ya flirtin' with me. Couldn't really see it."

You thought for a second, before speaking, "Was it Daryl?"

He grinned at you, tilting his head a little, "Maybe."

"Always knew he was a big softie," you hummed, "-read him like a book when we first met. Stone layers to an ooey-gooey center."

Rick scrunched up his nose, "Ooey-gooey center?"

"Sometimes," you sighed, "-Sometimes I say stupid shit around really attractive people. It's a habit."

"'Guess 'at means you're still gonna be flirting with me?"

"As long as you want me to, sheriff," you clarified.

"So maybe forever then," he grinned and you felt your heart leap into your chest (fuck his fond things). You were totally never getting over that.

"Yeah," you hummed in agreement, "-Maybe forever then."

Mission accomplished.

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #ricky dicky doo dah grimes #twd #twd rick #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #rick grimes oneshot

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wosoimagines · 3 days

Text

Second Chance

part 2 of rivals

Jo's second camp with the team is nearly over and she gets news of her future.

2,367 words

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“Hi, kid.”

I grinned at the familiar voice as I closed the door behind me.

“Hey, Becky.”

The woman smiled at me as I threw my bag onto the open bed. I hadn’t exactly expected Jill to room me with Becky again, but it was nice. Becky had helped to make sure that I actually got to bed at a responsible time and that I wasn’t late to any meetings or practices. After all, it had been quite easy for me to get distracted by everything else.

“Did you get to go to the lake?”

“Yeah, we went for a couple of days,” I admitted.

Becky nodded at that before she turned back to the book that she was reading. I tilted my head as I read the title.

“ The Portrait of Dorian Gray ,” I read off the spin. Becky looked up at me with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve never read it.”

“I could read it out loud, if you’d like.”

I smiled at Becky as I nodded. Becky looked back down at the book as I kicked my shoes off.

“‘I have always been my own master; had at least always been so, till I met Dorian Gray. Then--but I don't know how to explain it to you. Something seemed to tell me that I was on the verge of a terrible crisis in my life. I had a strange feeling that Fate had in store for me exquisite joys and exquisite sorrows. I grew afraid, and turned to quit the room. It was not conscience that made me do so: it was a sort of cowardice. I take no credit to myself for trying to escape.’”

I grinned as Becky read the words on the pages. I knew that we had at least an hour, if not two, until our meeting started since they were still waiting on quite a few players to get into the hotel. I didn’t give Becky time to start the next paragraph as I crawled into her bed before ducking my head under her left arm so I could look at the pages. Becky stayed silent for a moment as I got comfortable.

It wasn’t until I had settled down and stopped moving that Becky continued.

“‘Conscience and cowardice are really the same things, Basil. Conscience is the trade name of the firm. That is all.’

‘I don't believe that, Harry, and I don't believe you do either. However, whatever was my motive--and it may have been pride, for I used to be very proud--I certainly struggled to the door. There, of course, I stumbled against Lady Brandon. 'You are not going to run away so soon, Mr. Hallward?' she screamed out. You know her curiously shrill voice?’”

Becky’s voice was definitely one of the most soothing voices I had ever heard. Maybe she could become a professional audiobook reader or something like that once she retired from playing. Or even just take it up during the off-season. I wouldn’t mind listening to Becky read me more books if her voice was always this soothing.

“‘Yes; she is a peacock in everything but beauty,’ said Lord Henry, pulling the daisy to bits with his long, nervous fingers.

‘I could not get rid of her. She brought me up to Royalties, and people with Stars and Garters, and elderly ladies with gigantic tiaras and parrot noses. She spoke of me as her dearest friend. I had only met her once before, but she took it into her head to lionize me. I believe some picture of mine had made a great success at the time, at least had been chattered about in the penny newspapers, which is the nineteenth-century standard of immortality. Suddenly I found myself face to face with the young man whose personality had so strangely stirred me. We were quite close, almost touching. Our eyes met again. It was reckless of me, but I asked Lady Brandon to introduce me to him. Perhaps it was not so reckless, after all. It was simply inevitable. We would have spoken to each other without any introduction. I am sure of that. Dorian told me so afterwards. He, too, felt that we were destined to know each other.’”

I couldn’t find it in myself to fight off the sleep as Becky’s voice lulled me into darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, pipsqueak.”

I looked at Hope who had sat down across from me. I titled my head at her sudden presence. I knew that she often sat at the table with Carli and Christie during our meals. But they were both seated at a table that was behind Hope.

“Hi, Hope.”

I looked over my shoulder where most of the team was still getting their food. Being small did come with advantages, such as being small enough to get around everyone so I could be one of the first to get my food. I spotted Becky and Alyssa who were just now grabbing their own plates to fill them up. I turned back to look at Hope.

“Look, I just came to say that maybe you aren’t that bad.”

I raised my eyebrows at that. Hope complimenting me had been the last thing I was expecting. After all, we still weren’t getting along that well. It seemed like we both tolerated each other just enough for a fight not to break out during practice, but that didn’t stop the two of us from exchanging words during practice.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Hope said as she kept her eyes trained on her plate as she stabbed some of the food with her fork. “You still aren’t better than I am. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t helping us out.”

I stayed silent, causing Hope to look up at me. She just stared back at me. I was trying to figure out if this was some kind of joke or something.

“Who are you and what have you done with Hope Solo?”

Hope chuckled at that as she nodded.

“That’s cute, pipsqueak.”

“No seriously. Hope Solo would never compliment me. We go at each other’s throats,” I said as I shook my head. I turned my attention back to my plate. Hope had to be seriously sick if she was being nice to me all of a sudden. “Mine and Hope’s relationship does not consist of us being nice to each other. We’re like sweet potatoes and mustard. They don’t go together. I don’t give a shit what Mick says either. He’s a weirdo for eating sweet potatoes and mustard.”

“No, I’m serious, Jo,” Hope said. I paused at that before I looked up at Hope. “Can you just take the compliment?”

I shook my head. I really couldn’t.

At least not from Hope.

This was too weird. Hope wasn’t supposed to be nice to me. She wasn’t supposed to compliment me.

“Is everything okay over here?”

Hope and I both looked at Becky who took a seat next to me. I sent Becky a small smile before I turned back to Hope. I slowly nodded my head as I realized just what this was about.

“You’re being nice 'cause I saved your ass in the goal.”

“Jo! Language!”

I rolled my eyes at that. I already had a mom at home, I didn’t need Becky deciding to mother me while I was at camp too.

“No.”

“You said that way too fast for it to be true! This is about me saving you in the goal.” I grinned as I glanced at Alyssa who sat next to Becky. So it wasn’t because Hope actually wanted to get to know me. “You just feel bad that you tried acting all tough and like you could stop me and then you couldn’t back it up and I had to save the game against France so we didn’t draw again.”

“I don’t need help in the goal, pipsqueak .”

“Sure you don’t.”

It felt good knowing that Hope had felt bad after I saved her skin.

“You could have just said thank you.”

“Jo,” Becky said. I looked over at her as I raised my eyebrows. I wasn’t too sure why she really cared what happened between Hope and me. “Just take the compliment.”

“But she’s only saying it because I made the stop on the goal line.”

“Jo. Take the compliment.”

My jaw slacked a bit at that. I couldn’t believe that Becky was actually taking Hope’s side.

“Thank you for the compliment,” I said once I eventually turned back to Hope. The goalie smirked at me as she stood up. I rolled my eyes as I lowered my voice. “Good thing you’re good at soccer. Cause the porch light’s on, but there ain’t no one home.”

It wasn’t until Hope was well out of earshot that I felt the hand connect with the back of my head.

“Ow!”

“You’re lucky she didn’t hear that comment,” Becky hissed quietly. I slumped back against my chair at that. I really wasn’t in the mood for another lecture. “I get it. You don’t get along with Hope and you might never get along with Hope, but she’s our goalie. You are going to have to stop trying to provoke her.”

“She doesn’t treat me fairly. Why should I be the one to have to extend the olive branch?” I asked as I leaned forward to get closer to Becky. “She’s the adult. I’m only fifteen.”

“Jo-”

“No, it’s bullshit.”

“Langauge.”

“And I don’t need another mom. I already have one.”

Becky sighed as she leaned back in her own chair. I looked away from her.

“What if I talk to Hope?”

Becky and I both looked over at Alyssa. I had honestly forgotten that she was sitting at the table with us because of how quiet she had been. It was something that Becky told me I would have to get used to though.

“As if that would make it any better.”

“That would be great. Thank you, Alyssa.”

I huffed as I pushed myself away from the table. I had already finished my plate and if it gave me an excuse to be away from Alyssa and Becky right now, I would take it. I didn’t need everyone else fighting my battles for me. It was part of the problem. If everyone else fought my battles for me then no one would ever take me seriously.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, I heard that you and Hope got into it,” Jill said as I was wrapping my hand. I sighed as I looked up at her. “Is there a problem that I, as the coach, need to address between you two?”

“No.”

Jill nodded her head slowly as she still looked down at me as I finished wrapping my hand. I rubbed the bridge of my nose before looking back up at her.

“Is there anything else?”

“I really hoped that you and Hope would have gotten over this by now,” Jill said. I softly groaned as my shoulders slumped forward. “I’ll be honest with you, kid. I want to call you up for the August game and September-”

“I get it,” I assured her. I glanced at where the rest of the team was getting ready. Even though I had been friendly enough with Alyssa and Becky, the rest still seemed hesitant to get close to me. “Who wants a kid on their team when they’re the best in the world?”

“Jolene, that isn’t it.”

“Isn’t it?”

I looked away from Jill and down at my shoes. I knew that it was. It wasn’t the first time I had been left behind because I was the youngest one, and I doubted that it would be the last.

“Jo, you’re gonna be called to the U-20 team in just days,” Jill said as she bent down so that we were equal in height. “I encouraged them to do so. I think it would be a great opportunity.”

I looked back over to the rest of the team. But my eyes zeroed in on Hope. I knew what she would say when she found out that I wouldn’t be called to the team in August or September.

“The U-20 World Cup will be over before August. So what’s the point in keeping me out of the September camp?”

Hope would only boost and brag if I was gone longer than I needed to be. Plus, I didn’t want to lose the pace of play that came with the national team if I was gone for too long.

“Because you’re only fifteen, Jo. You will have to go to school and finish your education,” Jill said. I looked back at her. I didn’t care about that, I just cared about my future in soccer. “If your grades suffer too much, then I can’t call you up. You will be gone until late August if you guys make it to the finals.”

“So why have me go to the U-20 team instead of getting more practice with the senior team?”

“Because the U-20 team is going to a World Cup. It might not be the World Cup you were hoping for, but it will give you a taste of what it will be like next year,” Jill said as she sighed. I wondered if she would ever get tired of me and all my questions. “You’ll be expected to be a leader on the U-20 team as you’ve already been called up to the senior team. That will also be a good experience for you. I don’t expect that you’ll be seen as a leader on this team for years, maybe not until I’m gone even, but it will happen eventually, and leading a team at a World Cup, even a youth one, will be good for you.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Jill sighed as she patted my leg before standing up. If I had to prove myself to Jill at the youth level again, I was going to do it. Nothing would stop me from winning gold in August. Maybe then, the rest of the team would also start to see me as more than just some kid.

#uswnt imagine #woso imagine #leah williamson imagine #uswnt x reader #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #uswnt imagines #woso imagines #leah williamson imagines #uswnt #woso #leah williamson

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corruptedcaps · 3 days

Text

Bitchy Besties: part 2

In the car ride over Tanya gabbed about everyone in high school and all their dirty little secrets. Kate couldn’t believe the insight she was gaining about the other students she had known for years. Tanya even spilled the beans on her best friends.

Kate figured Tanya saw Kayleigh as more of a peer than some beta follower like the rest of Tanya’s friends. Despite despising Tanya, Kate found it somewhat rewarding having her bully so enamoured with her.

Tanya brought her around to all the bougie stores and they tried on outfit after outfit and the two were having a genuinely good time together. Kate had never worn so many tight and revealing outfits but she had to admit that they all looked great on her.

Finishing up with a trip to the nail salon, they both got a matching set of new press on's. As the beautician worked, Kate entertained her bully with fabricated stories of her life, who thankfully seemed to eat it up. Some stories were just things Kate remembered Tanya had done but she tweaked certain details to be more ‘Kayleigh’-like, whatever that had come to mean.

Posing for a selfie together, the two girls proudly showed off their new nails.

“This is going to blow up on socials babe, two hawt bitches like us. What’s your handle so I can tag you?” Tanya asked.

Kate started to panic, a girl like Kayleigh would certain have more social media than anyone else but Kate had never bothered. She had to think of an excuse.

“Oh I don’t have any. Well not anymore anyway. Remember the cyber bullying I told you I was doing before? Well my parents made me delete everything, otherwise they weren’t going to fund my trip to Paris.” Kayleigh said sounding genuinely pissed at her fabricated parents.

“Well did you go to Paris?” Tanya asked.

“Eh yeah, remember I told you about the hot French guy I fucked there?” Kayleigh replied.

“Then the statute of limitations are up.” Tanya said grabbing Kayleigh’s phone from her hand before she could be stopped. Tanya was like a pro quickly setting up new accounts for Kayleigh. In 60 seconds flat she handed the phone back.

“Now to tag you in this gorgeous pic of us. Annnnnd posted. You’ll be royalty in this town before the end of the day. So naturally I gave you the handle QueenKayleigh. No need to thank me. Don’t you love it?” Tanya said with a gleeful smirk.

Kaleigh pulled up the post of the two of them and saw the caption read “Hanging with my new BFF @QueenKayleigh, add her now! She’s the real deal.” Kayleigh stared for a long time at ‘BFF’. She had never had a best friend before, it felt kind of nice even if it was Tanya. Speaking of which she realized that Tanya had been waiting for an answer.

“Oh babes this is amazing, we look like twins don’t we?” Kayleigh said to a waiting Tanya who beamed at her.

“Totes! A pair of bitchy babes. Oh looks like you’re blowing up already.” Tanya said as Kayleigh’s phone started a waterfall of chimes. Kayleigh looked down at her phone and sat a barrage of likes, comments and follow requests. It was kind of overwhelming but satisfying to see so many people give her attention.

Comments such as ‘dammmmmn! Who’s the new hottie?’, ‘queens!’, and ‘omg, instant follow!’ were quickly going to her head, she did look stunning after all. Each chime was like an endorphin hit.

“Thanks hun, this will help me jump the social ladder to the top, where sexy babes like us belong. Assuming I pick your school.” Kayleigh said with a natural bitchy purr.

“I hope you choose to come to our school babe, it’s a dump for sure but together the two of us would be unstoppable together. The names Kayleigh and Tanya will make all the losers shudder and all the boys hard. Speaking of which I think I see one checking you out right now.” Tanya said nodding over to a handsome guy sitting in the food court.

Kayleigh looked over to see a handsome college aged guy smiling at her. It had taken her years to attract the meagre attention of Cory and now the hottest guy she had ever seen was checking her out. She remembered the Evie stories and tried to picture what the girls in those stories would do. Standing up she turned and gave Tanya a wink and strode confidently over to the guy.

“Hey hot stuff, were you going to stare at me all day or were you going to ask me out?” She said with a tilt of her head and a sly smile. The guy seemed taken aback by the forwardness but quickly gained his composure.

“Eh yes of course I’d love too. How’s Saturday?” He asked. Kayleigh felt a power over him that she had never felt before. His eyes drank her in and he seemed eager to please. He wanted her and he would do anything she asked. She had to test it out. Remembering how Tanya snatched her phone from her, Kayleigh quickly took the guy’s phone from his hand and started to type.

“No. You’ll pick me up Friday, 9pm, got it? Here, you’re following me on Insta now. DM later for my address.” She said playfully as she handed his phone back to him.

Tanya couldn’t tell what they were talking about from where she sat but could see Kayleigh had the guy wrapped around her little finger. Kayleigh seemed to be having fun, giggling, touching his arm, playing with her hair.

“See you Friday Lucas, and don’t be late.” Kayleigh said wrapping up their flirtation finally. With a cheeky smile, she turned on her heel and strutted away. She felt his eyes on her butt and made sure he had plenty of time to take it all in.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Lucas shouted after her.

“Oh babes you’re such a baddie. He’s gorgeous. What did you two talk about?” Tanya asked eager to hear.

“We’ve got a date on Friday.” Kayleigh said with a nonchalance tone.

“Oh girl you work fast, I’m so jelly. I should have pounced on him first.” Tanya said with a smirk back to her.

“Oh you misunderstand me babe, when I say ‘we’ I mean you, me, him and his frat brother. They’re taking us to a club. Maybe we can swap at some point during the night, if you’re that keen on him.” Kayleigh said grinning as Tanya listened, her mouth open.

“Kayleigh, where have you been my whole life? You’re the baddest bitch ever.” Tanya said suddenly hugging Kayleigh.

The whole act seemed to momentarily dislodge Kate from what she was doing and stand back mentally from it all. Only yesterday Tanya was bullying her and she was an outcast and now she was suddenly her best friend with plans of a double date that she had orchestrated! What was she doing? The whole scenario was bizarre and she realized that this wasn’t her, she needed to wrap this up and fast.

“You ok babe?” Tanya said noticing something off.

“Yeah, yeah of course. Just been a long day.” Kaleigh said feigning a yawn.

“Yeah for real, let me drive you home.” Tanya said but Kate suddenly panicked. Tanya couldn’t see where she lived plus she needed to retrieve her clothes still.

"No my parents are expecting to pick me up at the school so you can drop me back there." Kayleigh said already getting up.

The drive back to the school was quieter than the ride to the mall. Kate was deep in thought, her mind at war with itself. Tanya continued to gossip but Kate wasn't taking it all in like before.

"Are you sure you don't want me to drop you home babe?" Tanya asked, sensing something still off about her new friend as she got out of the car.

"No I'm perfect hun, it will give me time to think about my choices." Kayleigh said with a smile.

"Well you know what I hope you choose, this school could use Kayleigh and so could I. See ya later!" Tanya said returning the smile and speeding off. Kate stood in front of the school unsure what to do next.

To be concluded...

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #self corruption

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billthedrake · 3 days

Text

MY SON THE PORN STAR (PART FIVE)

I tried not to go wild. I still was married and still had my normal corporate guy life in Kansas City.

But doing porn turned out to be addictive. It was the combination of a deep exhibitionist streak I was discovering in myself and the access to incredibly hot men willing to suck me or get fucked by my big tool. It made me feel like a total stud... less middle-aged, I guess.

And work trips were the perfect cover. I really was doing the road warrior thing for my company, so I wasn't lying to Kate THAT much. But I did sometimes add a night to my travels.

Like the week after Easter. I had a business trip to Denver, but I added an extra evening and squeezed in a quick connector flight to San Francisco on my dime with miles. Muscle Pup Mike, my son's friend and escort/pornstar buddy, set me up with a versatile OnlyFans star there. I shot two scenes with him, actually, one oral, one with me masked as we had a nice, long 50-minute fuck scene. I didn't feel a deep chemistry with Kevin, aka "Jeff Reed," but I felt a deep chemistry with the two cameras that were on us. Besides, sex with a muscular 28-year-old hunk was hard to beat.

Turns out, the next night would beat it. I flew to Denver bright and early in the morning and had my sales meeting all day. I was rolling my business-style carry on into my hotel room right around dinner. I undid my tie and sat down to unlace my shoes before calling Kate to check in.

Yeah, I felt pretty bad knowing I was stepping out behind her back. I'd deal with that guilt later. Either stopping porn cold turkey or making a break or separation with my wife. At this point I wasn't ready to do either.

I wasn't a frequent poster, but managed a video every 2-3 weeks. And I had a growing following of fans willing to pay a modest subscription for just that. Sure, I got some comments complaining that I never took my mask off, but apparently I had the body and blond-furred looks a lot of guys went for. And my cock size helped - a lot. I was careful about not talking on camera, or I just edited those parts out, but I'd learned to be verbal with my grunts, to show appreciation for my sucker/bottom and to let viewers get that thrill. It worked.

I sat, alone in that quiet hotel room, thinking just how wild my double life had become, and I fiddled with my phone again. Chicago was an hour ahead and now would probably be a good time to call. I pulled up Travis's contact and FaceTimed him.

"Hey Dad," my son greeted.

"Hey," I said, leaning back and feeling my boner ride up in the crotch of my trousers. "I didn't catch you at a bad time, I hope?"

"Nah," he said. "Just getting back from the gym." Indeed, he had a workout zip-up on and I could see the familiar kitchen from his condo in the back.

"All sweaty?" I teased.

That got a laugh out of my son. He was surprised how horny I was sometimes, how much I'd leaned into this weird affair we had going on. "Something like that. How'd your shoot go?"

"Real well," I replied. "Kevin is a real professional. Made it easy."

"Just a professional?" Travis asked, with a teasing smile on his cute face.

"Just fucking," I said. "Not a ton of chemistry, I'm afraid, but I think I got some good footage for the next two vids." I'd always sent Travis the digital files via encryption, and he did the editing magic on the material. As amazing as my son was at being on-screen talent, he also had a knack for making great porn behind the camera.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Dad," he said. "But I think you're a natural adult performer."

I smiled. "Is that what the kids call it?" I joked.

That made my son laugh. I loved seeing and hearing his laugh. "OK... you're a natural porn star, Dad.... You know, it's really hot to say that. I get so hard watching you perform, you know."

My throat got dry. Travis knew how to work me up. "Jesus, Trav. You have no idea how much I've watched your videos."

That made my son laugh again, those dimples forming. "I have a pretty good idea, Dad. You've told me before."

"I lied," I teased. "I figured if I told you the real number, you'd get freaked out."

"Turned on is more like it, Dad," Travis said. "Why don't you show me how much you like em. You hard now?"

"Rock hard," I said. I turned the phone down to show off the rod forming a ridge in my trousers.

"Fuck," Travis hissed. "My dad has a real porn star dick. I have a shoot in a couple of hours. I'll definitely be thinking of your cock."

"Who's it with?" I asked. This was the wild phase Trav and I were at now. Father and son, lovers, flirts, and professional colleagues in the adult entertainment business.

"Bud and Spike," he said. I recognized the screen names of two muscle daddies from Dallas, into the more hardcore stuff.

I made a wince of an expression. "Go easy with those guys, buddy," I said. "For real." I felt strangely protective of my son. Which was weird, because in general he was the one looking out for me as I began doing porn more regularly.

Travis smiled. "I will, Dad. Promise. We're planning a more vanilla scene than they normally do." He gave me a wink. "Listen, I gotta go get ready, actually."

"All right, buddy," I said. I wished we had time for some phone sex because just talking to Travis was turning me on big time. "I can't wait to see your scene. And I'll be in Chicago in a couple of weeks. We'll catch up then, OK?"

"You bet, Dad," he said. "Love ya."

"Love ya, too, Big Guy."

We hung up.

I let out a hiss of air. I was horny now. Turns out "Jeff Reed" hadn't drained me. I did have a back up idea. There was some University of Colorado kid who'd been emailing me on the anon account Travis set up for me and linked to my OnlyFans. Call me a narcissist, but I'd been eating up the fan mail, and something about this college dude Bryan won me over. Maybe it was the pics he sent. Cute as fuck, brown haired, boy-next-door looks. And the nude pics that showed a surprisingly built body for a college kid - either a jock or someone who hit the college gym regularly. Smooth body with just a dusting of a treasure trail, creamy white skin, washboard abs, hard cock, amazing bubble ass.

Or maybe it was the request that I hit him up if I was ever in the Denver area.

So far I'd only done pro-amateur porn stars in the OF circuit my son and MusclePup Mike worked in. Some of it was the self-justification that it wasn't fully emotional cheating, just porn I was doing. Some of it was caution. All the arrangements went through Mike and because of my mask, no one knew my identity.

But I was horny now and sent this Bryan kid a message. I didn't expect a reply, but it was worth a shot. I set down my phone and undressed to take a quick shower. It was only 6:30, but it had been a long day.

There was a message waiting for me. "God yes, man," Bryan wrote. "I could be there in about an hour and a half," he wrote. Then almost nervously, there was a follow up. "God, I must seem overly eager. But fuck you're so hot. Let me know what works for you."

"How bout 8:30?" I typed back and gave my hotel name and room number. I wanted to get some food in me.

"Awesome. Yeah. See you soon," came the almost immediate reply.

I had only business casual clothes packed, so I got dressed to grab a bite at a restaurant near my hotel. I got back to my room with about ten minutes to spare. I brushed my teeth and checked my appearance in the mirror. I wasn't crazy about getting older, I had to admit, but I could see the "DILF" look that Travis and Mike were always raving about. Well-preserved was the expression, I suppose.

I was actually a little nervous when I heard the knock. I had no business fooling around with a guy like this. Not making a porn vid but actually having a cheating hook up. The messed up thing is that most guys would consider the videos a worse infraction, but this felt naughtier in a way.

Bryan looked great. Better than great. He was cuter than his pictures, and I think his nerves made him more attractive to me. He forced a smile but was shaking.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," I smiled. "Come in, bud."

He was shorter than me, and his size made his collegiate muscle look more compact on his build. Maybe not collegiate wrestler exactly, but definitely that wrestler body type. A little thick, even. MusclePup Mike would have called him a twunk.

"I didn't know what you'd look like," Bryan said softly. His gray eyes were taking me in.

I remembered now he'd never seen me outside of my videos, all masked up. "You came over anyway," I observed.

"Oh yeah," he enthused. "You're my favorite porn star, hands down." He blushed but didn't stop gushing. "You probably know this... I guess most guys don't pay to watch your videos, but I subscribed to your site so I could email you."

"For real?" I laughed.

"Yeah," Bryan replied, that nervous smile growing bigger. "You're not on Twitter or Insta," he explained. His eyes swept up and down my frame. "God, you're even hotter in person. I knew you'd be hot, but... wow."

I was eating up his flattery. "You're not so bad yourself, buddy... bring it in..." I held up my arms to gesture him to come in for a kiss. He did. He was nervous and that turned me on for some reason. But once we started making out, Bryan got real into it, meeting my tongue with his, before practically sucking me into his mouth.

His hands were feeling it up, tentatively at first, then all over. He chuckled as he pulled back so he could feel me up better. I stood there and let his hands roam over my button-down shirt and the gym-toned muscle underneath. At that moment I was VERY glad for the personal trainer Travis set me up with.

"I hope you don't mind my saying," Bryan said, "But it's so wild to be with a porn star."

"Don't mind at all, buddy," I hissed. I was now experiencing the other thrill of doing porn. I knew I was into the exhibitionism of it all, but now I was feeling the hero worshop, the adoration of a young guy like this. I was rock hard.

He gulped as I reached down to undo my khakis, unzipping them and reaching in to haul out my dong. "I guess you really like my cock, then, huh?" I growled.

This wasn't me. At least it wasn't Brad Connors. Married father of three. Road warrior corporate guy. But being MaskedDaddy gave me the sexual confidence and freedom to be someone else.

"Fuck yeah," Bryan gasped as he saw my prick. "That cock's so fucking big..." His eyes were wide, taking in my size before he looked up at me. "OK, if I touch it?"

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't, buddy," I said. "That's why you came over isn't it?"

He nodded, like a chastised kid. Then tentatively he stepped in again and reached forward, like he was afraid of being branded by a hot poker. But once his fingers made contact, the hesitation was gone. The college dude circled his fingers and round me, griping my hardon and gently stroking a couple inches of it to get a feel of the girth and heft. "You don't know how much I've jerked off to your videos," he said. "I wasn't gonna admit to that you, but fuck...." His voice was heavy in his ragged breathing but still had that frat-bro collegiate kind of tone.

"I think we talked about you sucking that dick," I grunted. In our texts, Bryan had offered a blow job, and his presence now was making me really want this. In a surprising way, his realness was making me click with the college kid more than I did with a megahot porn star. Maybe it was the opposite of what Bryan was feeling, where he was living out his porn dream.

"Yeah," he nodded. But he gave me a sheepish shrug. "I, um, don't have a lot of experience."

I patted his cheek. "Give it your best, bud. Please. Daddy's really fucking horny." Yep, this was porn me talking, but it was the magic words for Bryan, who couldn't get down on his knees fast enough.

The young stud actually whimpered as he pulled my dick to his face and began licking it. It was slobbery and impetuous, and his attempt to take me into mouth was more urgent than skilled.

"Easy, buddy..." I urged as he choked a little on my size. "Daddy's got a big cock... take your time."

He nodded and moaned around my prick, flashing those gray eyes up, a little teary. Fuck.

I wouldn't say he got the hang of, but he got a lot more comfortable. Slowly, he sucked me, a few inches at a time, working up the focus to get an extra one back into his throat. The young dude was so excited to blow me, and I was loving this. Slowly I stroked his hair and encouraged him. "That's it, sport... you don't need the training wheels do ya? You go right for the big ones. OH FUCK, that feels nice."

"Yeah?" Bryan asked as he spit out my cock and swallowed the excess spit. I could tell he wanted to make sure he was sucking me right, but more than that he struck me as a young man who craved positive feedback in sex.

"You're doing great, buddy," I said.

There was something about this connection which was night and day different than "Jeff Reed." Bryan was a real guy, a college stud eager for me and not just playing out sex for the camera. And yet...

"You interested in filming this, Bryan? It's SO hot to watch you, buddy."

I could see two reactions in his face at once. A fearful shock at the idea. And an excitement to even consider it. "Oh man," he responded, not giving me a hint which one was the bigger emotion.

I slowly stroked my rod in front of his face, working in his spit over my dong and letting it get steel hard for his gaze. I had toyed with using viagra for my shoots, but even with my size I didn't have an issue getting real hard erections like this. I just loved sex too much.

"If it helps, I packed a spare mask," I offered.

Maybe another dude would have wondered why I had a mask with me, much less more than one mask. But Bryan had been used to seeing me in one, so maybe it just seemed normal to him.

"This is crazy," he said, his fearful look breaking into a smile.

"Is that a yes or a no?" I asked, gently tapping his cheek with my dong.

"Yes," he muttered excitedly before taking ne into his mouth once more.

I let him work me for a few seconds then pulled back. I went to my carryon back and retrieved the masks. I wouldn't need one, I suppose, but I tossed both over Bryan's way while I got my portable tripod, a compact digital camera, and a spare cameraphone, an old Iphone I used for extra handheld footage.

I was worried I was killing the mood setting everything up and fiddling with the lights. But I loved shooting porn, and if anything my dick was harder in anticipation with shooting a different kind of scene. Me with an amateur costar. Even if Bryan wasn't an experienced I just knew this would be a hot video. And if not, I'd enjoy jerking off to it.

Fortunately, Bryan seemed excited too. I could see the excitement in his eyes, even behind the mask. He'd taken his shirt off, maybe to be less identifiable but was on his knees still, hands braced on his thighs. "I can't believe I'm going to be in one of your vids," he said. Yeah, the dude was into this.

I sauntered back, my dick leading the way. "If you're not comfortable with the results, we don't have to post anything," I said, remembering how important that veto power was for my comfort level for my first vid with my son. "Otherwise, I'll take this as your consent."

"Got it," he nodded.

The second his lips touched my prick again, I let out a gasp. He looked up at me, excited, and I took in his green eyes looking up through the mask holes. I pointed the phone camera at him to capture that. I wasn't gonna shoot that angle the whole time, since I preferred to enjoy getting head instead of playing cameraman the whole time. But the snapshots of him looking up would add to the effect.

Bryan's technique wasn't better this time, but his enthusiasm had tripled, at least. I set down the phone and eased my stance back, my posture upright. I was still in my business casual attire as this horny college kid blew me. I urged him to go slower at first with a quick deep grunt.

I heard the guy moan around my meat as something relaxed in his throat and he was able to more steadily take more of my dong into his throat. Working me up and down, I reached behind his head and massaged his scalp through the mask, gently urging him deeper.

"Yes," I choked in response. "Suck me." I'd gotten pretty good at deguising my voice. Using my porn voice. "Suck Daddy."

That did it. Bryan pulled off for a quick breath, then descended all the way down. I'm a big guy, and even some of the OnlyFans studs had a hard time swallowing my sword. But they weren't feeling the crazy sexual thrill this kid was.

He held a second then it was too much, and he pulled off with a sputtering cough. I could see his eyes watering even through the mask holes.

"Sorry," he breathed, as he tried to regain composure.

"It's OK... take your time," I said in my normal voice. Travis would have to edit that out. All for the best. I gave Bryan a second to catch his breath and then I leaned down and met him for a sensual kiss.

"You're doing real good," I said. Then leaning up, I offered my hard dong again. It had gone down a little, but was still pretty heavy. "Ready for more?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yeah," he said, his gray eyes looking back up at me.

His mouth on me got me rock hard once more. I pulled out some to let the camera catch my full hardon, then pushed back in between his wet lips. Bryan was novice, but that was OK. I was turned on from a change of pace from the OnlyFans dudes. This was a real guy, young and eager. I let him suck and get into sucking.

"Yeah," I grunted, I ran my fingers through his hair again and took the chance to push him down on my meat some more.

Byran was up for the challenge. He grunted around my prick but his throat relaxed and swallowed more of my thickness.

I started cumming. I wanted to ride out the orgasm in his college kid's throat but instead I pulled out and shot a couple of jets onto his mask and his lips before pushing back in just a few inches to let him suckle the remaining dribbles of semen.

I caught my breath a half second then picked up the cameraphone again. I hadn't taken too much handheld footage, so now I got a good view of Bryan slurping on my sated meat, licking up and down and outright worshipping my cock. Thankfully I wasn't too sensitive after nutting, and even if I lost a little of my rigidity, my dick kept a heavy firm meatiness that looked good.

I finally pulled back and turned both cameras off. "You were amazing, buddy," I said with a smile.

Already Bryan was pulling his mask off. I was glad. The guy was real fucking cute. "Dream come true for me," he said.

I could tell he was still horned up and at full sexual arousal from servicing me. "Get on the bed, kiddo," I urged. "Lie back."

He didn't seem to know what was going on but he complied. His body was shaking some as I undid his jeans and yanked them down.

"What are we gonna do?" he asked with some apprehension. Still he raised each leg to let me pull off his jeans. And his boxers showed a thick boner beneath the cotton.

"Your turn to get off," I said, not really answering his question.

Still, Bryan nodded and hooked his thumbs in the elastic of his boxers to slide them down. I let him take them off as I stepped into the bathroom to get lube out of my toiletties bag.

Bryan was now lying back on the bed, fully naked, his creamy white muscle looking even better than I anticipated now that he was stripped nude.

"You an athlete?" I asked as I flipped open the cap on the lube.

Bryan's eyes were nervously only the lube. I think I knew what he was worried about, and a part of me enjoyed playing with his nervousness. I'll give him credit, he put on a brave face as his eyes met mine to answer me. "Yeah. Wrestling.""

My guess had been spot on. "It shows," I said. "You have an amazing body."

"Thanks," he said, watching me get on the bed, me making a show of drizzling some lube on his hardon. His dick twitched, untouched, he was so turned on. "You have more the football build."

"Baseball was my sport," I answered. "And golf. But my trainer has helped me bulk up."

"You're my fantasy," he said softly. "The whole package. None of the guys know I'm into this, though." I could read in his face that he wasn't sure if he should be getting emotionally open like this.

I patted his thigh and set down the lube on the night stand with my other hand. I was fully dress, with my cock sticking out of the fly of my khakis still. I wasn't sure I wanted to get off again, but I knew I could. Bryan was hot as fuck, and I was grooving on his clear attraction to me.

"A shame," I winked, trying to make the conversation sexy again. "Maybe you could have some fun. With you coach, too."

That got a laugh from him. Bryan had a sexy smile. "I've definitely thought of Coach. A lot."

I rubbed his legs some more more, outright caressing them now. His quads were solid as fuck, hard brawn that contrasted with the soft collegiate fur. I copped a feel of his ball sac, lightly haired and ran my fingers up the lubey length of his shaft.

"Lift your legs, bud," I urged, my tone friendly even as my words were commanding.

He got that deer in the headlights look. "I've never done this," Bryan said softly.

I had a good idea what he meant. "You a virgin?" I asked. My eyes doing their best friendly look I could manage as I played with his hard dick and his balls. Not stroking him, more exploring his rigid younger dick. Getting him excited to play more.

"For fucking, yeah..." he replied. "Sorry."

I don't think I realized till then how much I wanted to tap this hot wrestler's ass. Maybe his innocence was fueling some of my desire, too. "Not gonna do anything you're not ready for buddy," I said. "Come on, just lift your legs for Daddy."

Maybe that was the magic word, because Bryan leaned back and raised his legs up.

"You can pull em back," I instructed, taking a good look before leaning forward and crouching down.

"Holy FUCK!" the kid gasped at the first swipe of my tongue. His hair down there was light, and I enjoyed the contrast with hairier guys or even the OnlyFans dudes who shaved smooth. It was a delight to lick up and down the trench and then focus more on his tight pucker.

"Jesus," Bryan gasped. He wasn't naturally verbal, but I could tell his mind was being blown. Surprised, maybe a little ticklish but he definitely loved getting rimmed.

I pulled back. That ring was drum tight all right. It made me realize I'd never eaten out a cherry hole before. My son's certainly wasn't virgin. "Go ahead and stroke off," I urged. I relished the ability to speak in my normal voice now that the cameras were off, even as some of my Masked Daddy persona came out anyway. "I want you to come kiddo."

I watched as he excitedly gripped his boner and start to stroke it. Then I dove back in. Not just rimming but fully eating him out, munching the tightness of his asshole.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," the kid gasped. I knew his orgasm was starting. I held onto the back of his meaty thighs and even pushed back a little to angle him perfectly to got to town with my tongue and my sucking mouth.

"NMNGGH!" came the grunt of his cum. Bryan's whole body was tensing up and I knew he was giving up his load in a big way.

Indeed as I pulled back I saw that beautiful creamy white wrestler muscle sprayed with splotches of his sperm. I began licking it up off his abs and chest, saving it in my mouth before I finally met him in a kiss to share it.

The snowballing caught him by surprise but he was way into it, accepting his own cum then pushing it back into my mouth, our tongues working it back and forth and frothing it up with our own saliva.

He had a big, content smile on his face when finally parted, swallowing what little seed was left on our tongues. "I thought..." he started then stopped himself.

"I know, buddy," I said. I patted his chest gently. "I won't lie... I came THIS close to pushing your boundaries."

He nodded, emotionally raw. I could tell he half wanted me to. But only half. "I know. I don't know how, but I could tell."

His hand reached up and ran along my arm through my button down shirt. "I'll probably be kicking myself for not going all the way. But I wasn't ready," he said.

"It was all great, buddy," I assured him.

"I should go," he said. "I got a long drive back to Boulder."

I pulled back and gave him one last pat as I eyed up his nakedness one more time. Bryan was the real deal. Not a "jock" for pay. I felt a strange emotional connection even with the sexual chemistry. I'd have to process why I was feeling that.

For now, I let him up and I went to piss while he got dressed again. When I stepped back from the bathroom, he was mostly dressed again, and had a dreamy, moody expression.

"Thanks for that... fuck I don't even know your name."

"Will 'Daddy' do?" I asked with a wink.

"Guess it will have to," he said with resignation. "You've made my dream come true."

I stepped up for a final kiss, then I showed him to the hotel room door.

***

I was glad Bryan didn't sleep over. I needed a good rest and I had a busy schedule with my client visit the next day.

It felt like naughty fun messaging Bryan when I got a chance, though. It started off with "had a great time" kind of texts, but Bryan admitted how he wished he'd gone all the way.

"Maybe if you're in town again, I'll have the courage," he admitted.

"I'm in town another night if you manage to get that courage, kiddo."

There was silence on his end. Like an hour and a half before I got another text, and even then it was a half hour before I had a break after my afternoon presentation.

"Sorry," Bryan wrote. "Was in class and my prof goes apeshit if we're on our phones LOL."

I texted. "I worried I'd spooked you."

This time the reply was quicker. "Dude, you don't know how horny I've been all day. You're definitely not spooking me."

I bit my lip and looked around. I probably looked like I was doing business texts on my phone. But fuck I was getting horny too. Somehing about this Bryan kid got under my skin. "Is that a yes?" I wrote. "You gonna give me your cherry?"

I was pushing boundaries now for sure, but Bryan seemed up for it now, more than the previous night. "I wanna. Yeah."

"Daddy wants to get in your hole SO bad, buddy." Then, "I'll go easy on you."

"God yes," came his reply. "I'm hard as fuck now."

God this was gonna happen. One more boundary to push. "Will you let me fuck you on camera?"

There was a pause now. Then, "Masked?"

"As you like," I wrote, almost hoping Bryan wouldn't wear one, even if I knew he would. To coax him, I added, "I'll tell you my first name if you let me film us."

"Deal. LOL."

I looked up. Folks were filing back into the conference room. I hoped my chubbed cock wouldn't show. "I gotta go. But maybe plan for 8:30? I have a work dinner before."

"God yes. I can't believe we're going to do this."

"We're going to do it, Kiddo." I assured him. "I want you so bad."

I got a blushing emoji in return and had to smile. "All right," he wrote. "Talk later."

I went into my meeting and was able to get my mind off Bryan's creamy smooth wrestler build and his cherry hole. Somehow.

I checked my messages after we wrapped up, before heading off to a business dinner. It was close to my hotel thankfully and these things never ran late. I hoped to see a message from Bryan, but there was nothing.

I did google some instructions for preparing to bottom. With the OnlyFans guys and my own son, that routine was down pat, but a newbie like Bryan could use some guidance, and I wanted the ease and comfort of topping a clean hole. I forwarded the site to Bryan.

I held off to one glass of wine during dinner. I wanted a clear head for later. By 7:40 I'd paid the check on my corporate card and bid good night to my client contacts. I had to laugh at myself by how excited I was to get back to my hotel. I did have time to stop at an office supply store and pick up a spare small camera. I figured this scene would be worth the extra vantage point.

Bryan texted when he was on his way. I stripped down from my business clothes and hung them up in the closet. I was rock hard already, and dripping in anticipation. I hadn't felt this excited since my last time with my son. I took a quick shower and put on the plush hotel robe, tying it to cover up my midsection.

I spent the rest of the time setting up the cameras. The lighting wasn't perfect but it was enough.

The knock made me realize I was a little nervous myself. I'd gotten comfortable doing porn, maybe a little too comfortable, but taking Bryan's cherry felt like a certain responsibility. I wanted it to be an incredible experience for him, and I was realizing I was totally green when it came to easing a guy out of his virginity.

Still, the sight of him made my heart beat. He was just so fucking cute and hunky. Particularly was we realized each other was nervous.

"Hey, Daddy," he said stepping in.

"Brad," I said. "You can call me Brad. Or Daddy," I smirked.

Our kiss was soft, surprisingly soft given the act we were about to do.

"You good for his, buddy?" I asked, running my hands along his outer arms.

He nodded. "I'm nervous as hell, but I'll be kicking myself if I don't do it."

"You feel like stripping down?" I asked. "There's a mask for you on the table."

I pulled mine on and then went around made sure all the cameras were on. I was pleased to see Bryan's naked body, that thick muscle lean and compact with just a dusting of hair. God, even with that build he looked every bit the 20 year old he was. Like I say, the real deal.

And I was doubly pleased to see him throwing hard. That thick five spike standing up from his lightly furred crotch, nerves notwithstanding. I watched him pull on his mask. It was a shame the viewers wouldn't see how cute he was but his body rounded out that college jock look for sure.

I pointed the camera at him. "So... we're about to have sex for a video that will be released through OnlyFans. Do you agree for me to share what I film?"

I half expected some questions, but he just nodded. "Yes."

"Good boy," I said with a laugh. That made Bryan chuckle, too, which made me glad. "Why don't you lie on the bed, face down?"

I could sense his nervousness. Maybe he anticipated face to face for his first time. "Don't worry buddy, I'll ease you into this."

He nodded silently and then complied, walking over to the hotel bed, while I filmed him with his natural jock gait. It was hot as fuck, seeing him strut and that ass of his work. Then his full body stretching out face down.

The other cameras would get a good angle - one angled on each side nightstand, the other from behind where I stood, just a little off to the side. I held the camera phone as I stepped closer, letting the camera rove over his strong back and amazing ass, up and down his legs. Maybe more jock-worship footage than we'd use, but Travis could work his magic.

Finally, I stepped back and propped the camera phone off to the side. maybe it would work for another angle. Bryan turned back to look at me, and I got off on how his back muscle flexed with his motion. Stepping up, I ran my hands along his calves, working up the length as I climbed on the bed.

I knew I'd be in good view of the cameras now as I kissed from one side of his hamstrings to the other knotted leg. I took my time working my way up.

Bryan was ready for the rim job now. Hiking his ass up, he parted his legs enough to let me in. My hands gripped his buns and did the rest.

The college kid's sigh was deep and sexual as I began licking. I wanted to put on a show. I loved rimming a guy and sometimes felt there was never enough of it in porn videos. It was always a quick lick before the top was lining up. I went full in now, eating out Bryan for a solid five to ten minutes, alternating speed and tonguework. Sometimes Bryan relaxed and let me do my magic, sometimes he bucked up against my face to maximize the contact.

I pulled back and with a hungry growl gave him a light pat. "Turn over," I urged in my deeper voice. Spittle wetted down the chin of my mask. I really wished he and I could do it without these, but the masks allowed us to fuck on camera, both of us.

I was amazed to see Bryan's prick hard and leaking clear sap everywhere. He was majorly turned on. I pulled up enough to let the cameras get a good view of his ripped, modestly jacked body.

"How many guys have fucked you?" I asked tersely. I sure hoped the "MaskedDaddy" voice was enough fo a disguise.

Bryan didn't change his voice, but his soft response was sexy as hell. "No one yet," he said.

I leaned in and kissed him. Just enough sexual urge, and enough romantic finesse. Bryan responded in turn, sucking my tongue into his mouth and moaning against me. He was nervous, sure, but also getting the case of the major horns.

I loved this, putting on a show and yet connecting one-to-one with this fine young man. I pulled up and muttered, "nice," patting his chest. I rolled off to the side and undid my robe. My hardon bounded out and both Bryan and the camera could see my exposed body with its blond fur. I pulled him to me and we started making out again.

Silently I guided him down and the kid knew what to do. Slowly he began kissing and worshipping my big prick, wetting it down with his tongue before taking me into his mouth. Practice hadn't made perfect, but he was getting much more accustomed to my size and better at blowing me.

I was determined not to get overheated. I just lay back and enjoyed this, the sensation of Bryan's soft, slow blowjob and the view of his nakedness kneeling in front of me in servicing position.

Soon, though, it was feeling too good. I nudged him off. He came up to meet me for a kiss, taking the initiative now, until I regained the upperhand in rolling him back on his back, with me on top. I could feel his hardon against mine and the warmth from his body.

Placing my mouth at his ear, I whispered, "You like being a porn star too, dont ya kiddo?"

"Yeah," he grunted back.

I knew I needed to be a little verbal with him. If the camera picked up my words, Travis could edit them out. "You're just about the hottest guy I've ever fucked, Bry."

His body actually shivered at that. The time seemed ripe. I lifted off and leaned over to pump out some lube.

He let out a hiss of air the second my greased fingers touched his pucker but he didn't flinch. Instead he spread his legs and looked into my eyes. This was gonna be good.

I pushed a digit in. Bryan was real fucking tight. But I worked him slowly. Back and forth, in and out.

"Another," I said curtly.

"God," he hissed as I penetrated him with two fingers. It wasn't bad-uncomfortable for him, but it was certainly unfamiliar to him. We stood still eyes locked, him lying back, me between his legs. Until I started finger fucking him again. I applied more lube and fingered him some more.

Finally I pulled back and removed my robe entirely, slipping it off my body and tossing it aside. Bryan's hands were on me, excited to feel up my DILF body. I let him. Between his attention and the cameras I was getting real excited. I was the one dripping now. I caught a thick thread of precum in my fingers and brought it down to his virgin hole. I fingered him up with that too.

The third finger was slow going, but I got him to relax.

"No rubber?" I have asked and half said.

"No sir," came his excited reply.

I was gonna get blue balls soon if I didn't fuck. I scooted up and pressed my prick head in place. I pressed super slow against his ring, working against the spit-slick tightness and smearing my precum against him.

I could feel Bryan's body shake beneath me, and he looked up, a real deer-in-the-headlights look in his eyes beneath the mask. I worried if I waited longer his nerves would get the best of him. I pushed in.

"UNNH!" he whimpered loudly. I felt bad the entry hurt and bad that he was doing his bravest to pretend it didn't.

"Easy, bud..." I hissed, reaching down to run my hands along his hot body. This fine young man was giving me a major gift. My prick jerked an inch or two inside him, feeling the tightness of his ass clamping down on him, as I held still, then gave the shallowest of thrusts, back and forth more than in and out.

I looked at him, trying to communicate silently. Then I leaned in, pushing his legs back with my body. "You're doing good," I said.

We kissed. My cock slipped out of its toe hold but I didn't care. He needed this, and I wanted it. This was about the only time I lost track of the cameras. When I wasn't putting on a show. I connected with this college kid in a deep, soulful kiss. And kissed him som more.

I pulled back. This time I didn't rush, but I didn't delay. I pushed back into him. Bryan somehow trusted me, because his ring gave way more easily. He was virgin tight a few inches inside, but I gently thrust back and forth, working that knot inside him. I pulled out and added more lube. Now showing off for Bryan and the cameras both. Then I placed his ankles on my shoulders.

"OOH FUCK!" Came his cry when I broke through. But he wasn't in pain, just overwhelmed by feelings he didn't have word for. I plowed all the way in and held it. I could see his muscular chest rise and fall, taking deep breaths.

"Got your cherry, kiddo," I hissed.

"Thank you," he actually replied, his voice heavy in emotion. That got me going. My dick felt like stone inside his warm, tight guts.

"Feel good buddy?" My hands massaged his calf muscle as I looked down on him and restrained myself from just plowing his hot ass.

Bryan nodded.

I pulled and out thrust in. Then again. I was fucking for real now. Bryan's first fuck. Maybe more than he bargained for when he came over the previous night. But I knew this was his deep fantasy and why he reached out to me.

I wasn't hard or rough, but I fucked with a steady determination. I wanted to give this kid the best first time experience possible now. I puffed my chest and used more of a swivel action of my hips, in and out, in and out, as my eyes stared down at him. I'd probably read his facial reactions better without the mask, but his eyes and mouth were enough. I was getting to him, hitting that spot.

I paused just a second and reached to pump out more lube. This went onto his prick. He gasped as I slicked him up then got the picture once I pulled my hand away.

I grabbed a pillow and slid it underneath his hips. It made for the perfect angle, and I took quick advantage, resuming my steady plow of Bryan's no-longer virgin hole.

Turns out his masturbation was just what Bryan needed, flipping the switch to full pleasure now.

"Yeah?" I asked. Fucking heavier now.

"Yesss," the college hunk hissed back. He was jerking faster now, not frantically but eagerly and in synch with the fuck.

I saw his pisslit dilate and a clear spurt fly out. Not his ejaculation yet, but the prelude.

"Fuck yes," I grunted, throwing my hips into harder pounding. I was getting close to the finish line, and I wanted to speed up to catch up with this stud.

My harder thrusts felt amazing giving how much his ass was clenching and releasing on my dick spasmodically. But it really made Bryan's prostate sing. His pale skin grew pink and flush and his wrestler muscle tensed up.

"Shit!" he yelled and timed with each shove his nuts gave it up, and his prick spurted heavy ropes of semen over his perfect body.

I went at it even harder, leaning in some, powering my hips in rapid jabs. I didn't say anything but my grunt was unmistakeable as I shoved in and unloaded. My cum threw off my rhythm, but I held deep a second, then my hips jerked involuntarily for another hard shove to discharge my seed deep inside Bryan.

The kid winced at that one, which made me feel bad. I got myself under control and held myself steady, gently massaging his leg and then easing back. He'd been a trooper but now needed a break. I leaned back and showed off my slickened dong, though most viewers eyes would probably be on the cum-covered collegiate muscle of my bottom.

Leaning over I picked up one of the cameras. Time for the money shot.

Even if Bryan wasn't an experienced bottom, he'd watched enough porn to know what I was after. Rather than drop his legs down, he pulled them back, spreading them enough to show me and the camera his fucked and seeded hole. No longer drum tight, it has a slight gape and was thick with my cum. I'd shot a lot.

I got a good shot of it, then angled the camera up to capture his whole ripped and cum-wet body. Nothing would ever top watching my own son in porn, but Bryan was a close second.

I finally set down the phone and pulled off my mask. That was the cue Bryan was waiting for and he eagerly peeled his off.

"You OK, buddy?" I asked. My normal voice returning.

He nodded. "God yeah. I'm so glad we did that."

I gave a sly nod to the camera. "Your first time's preserved as a memento," I said. A little teasing in my voice, but checking in where his head was.

He smiled and god he was so fucking cute with that pearly white smile. "I didn't think I was gonna enjoy it at first," he admitted. "But damn..."

I ran my fingers through the cum that had turned liquidy on his chest. "You shot like gangbusters," I said.

"My cums are pretty big normally," he said. "But your dick did something inside me that made me go wild. I've never felt anything like that."

"I'm glad," I said. I leaned forward for another kiss, this one tantalizingly soft and slow.

Afterward, I let Bryan get up and shower off while I checked my phone. Then I figured I'd join him. The look on his face told me my presence was quite welcome.

"Hey," he grinned, shyly. God, he was star struck and that made me feel like a real stud.

"Hey," I said. Our wet bodies connected and we took the time to soap each other down.

"You married to a man or a woman?" he asked as he nodded to my gold band.

"A woman," I said. "I'm not the best husband."

He gave a nod of acknowledgment. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm glad you share yourself."

"I have news for you kiddo," I said, turning off the water and running my hands over his wet muscled body. "You've shared yourself now, too."

"Still can't believe it," he said. "When will you post it?"

"In a couple of weeks," I said. I wasn't going to bring up Travis or my process for putting the vid together.

His hands reached up to feel my body too, my chest but also my shoulders and arms.

"I'm hard again," Bryan said. "I can't believe it."

"You're 20," I joked. "It happens."

"Yeah," he laughed.

I patted his arm. "Feel like sleeping over?" I asked. "I have a morning flight to catch but you're welcome to stay."

He nodded, like an eager puppy. We dried off and made our way back into the room. I downed a bottled water to rehydrate and tossed him one. "Remind me to tip housekeeping extra," I said as I pulled down the sheets. "We made a fucking mess."

He slipped into the bed next to me. His body was cooler now, and felt great against my warmer bod. We made out. His dick was a spike and I got hard once more, but I wasn't eager for another fuck. And Bryan seemed to go with the flow.

"So..." I finally said. "No longer a virgin..."

"No sir."

"Any regrets?" I asked, leaning back in the bed against the headboard, pulling my hands behind me. Bryan nestled in, resting his head against my upper chest and running his hands along my fur.

"None. It was hot as fuck," he said. "But even if it hadn't been, I just feel relieved, you know?"

"Not exactly," I smiled knowingly.

"Ha," he said, picking up on my meaning. "I'm surprised your so good at breaking a guy in if you're cherry too."

"I'd like to say I had some secret," I admitted, "But I just did what felt right."

Maybe it was the sex. I mean it was getting late, but not that late. Bryan was dozing some as he rested up against me. I ran my fingers through his hair.

"Ready for bed, kiddo?" I asked.

"Yeah, Brad," he said and rolled off to the side.

***

My son did his magic crafting two separate scenes from the footage with Bryan, as well as a very hot teaser. "Taking College Jock's Cherry" was the title of the second. The on-screen chemistry was real, and it was clear that we weren't faking it. I really did take the young dude's virginity on screen.

"God, Dad, this is fucking incredible," Travis said to me on the phone before he posted the scene. "I've shot three times to it."

I smiled. I was in a semi-public place and had to be a little discrete. "I'm very glad to hear that," I smirked. "A little payback to the one you did the other week."

"Bud and Spike?" he asked.

That one was one was OK, but not my favorite. "No, the other one," I said, cagily.

That got a laugh from Trav. "Oh, MiamiMuscles... dude's a crazy power bottom, right?"

"Yeah," I said, my throat getting hoarse with lust I was trying to hide. "I like watching you in action like that."

Travis picked up on my need to be discreet, though he had no constraints on his end. "You prefer watching me fuck, Dad?"

God, my son knew how to drive me crazy. "I do," I admitted.

I detected a hesitation on his end, which wasn't Travis's normal response to anything. He paused. "Dad... you ever think about, you know, me fucking you?"

Just hearing those words were going make me go from chubbed to boned. "It's a little scary to think about," I replied. "But yeah... I do."

"Oh fuck," Travis hissed. Only then did I realize he'd been dreaming of that very act. Topping me. Taking my anal cherry, like I'd done with that Denver kid. It surprised me actually, given our bedroom chemistry with my son bottoming for me, eager for his dad's cock. "We'll talk about it next time, OK?" he said. Not pressuring me but letting me know this was on his mind.

"Yeah," I said. "I'll probably chicken out, son. But I wanna explore the idea." I was nervous just vocalizing this.

"Sure, Dad," Trav said. "God you know I love everything we'd done together. If I were there right now, I'd suck your cock, you know that." My son was getting into deep lust mode now.

"Fuck, Trav, I should probably go," I said. I knew if I kept talking like this, I'd get in trouble. "Later, son?"

"Yeah, Dad," he replied, his voice rich with lust. I knew he was probably going to jack off when I hung up. I was going to find the time myself at the first chance. Pull up one of Travis's videos where he topped and stroke off imagining him pounding me, too.

****

My Denver videos were popular. I wasn't surprised that my fans responded to the realness of them, but I was surprised by the messages I got. They changed my porn career and it's probably not an overstatement to say they changed my life.

The first one came two weeks after the video with Bryan dropped.

"Dear MaskedDaddy, I loved your latest video. God, it's like my deepest fantasy. I'm 23 and live in DC. I don't have that college jock's bod, but I'm working on it. I've been too scared to let a guy fuck me, but if you want to be my first, I'd love to star in one of your vids. I wouldn't even need a mask."

It was a wild email, and I figured the kid's horniness doing the thinking for him. I pawed my crotch and laughed at how forward the offer was. I started to send a polite thanks but no thanks reply.

But then I thought about it, and I figured what the hell. I asked for the young dude's pictures. He was cute as fuck. Not quite as twunky as Bryan but still good looking, kind of that boy-next-door type.

Travis handled the OnlyFans money my site brought in. I didn't do porn for the money, and in any case I didn't want my finances impacted lest Kate find out.

I sent two more texts that night. One to DC guy. "If you're serious, lets plan for something three weeks from now." I knew I had some work travel on the East Coast I could piggy back on.

My other I sent to Trav. "I need your help arranging a DC visit. Gonna pop another dude's cherry."

#drakestories

91 notes · View notes

fadingdaggerr · 18 hours

Note

Hii!! I hope you've had a great day!!

So, I had this idea and I can't stop thinking about it, it's like rotating in my brain like a Rotisserie Chicken. IDK if you're still taking requests but I just had to send this.

Anyway, Melissa and reader are in someone else's house (R parents or idk some kind of sleepover with the teachers) and for some reason they can't sleep together in the same bed/room, like they're used to, which is concerning R because Melissa doesn't really sleep well alone.

But Mel tries to ease R saying she'll be just fine for one night, and very reluctantly R agrees.

Well, it turns out she can't. R and obviously a few others in the house wake up to Melissa's screaming in the middle of the night and R runs to her, shes is sobbing, shaking and clutching R for dearlife, just absolutely terrified and not even letting R move. R calm her down and take care of her, like with a lot of fluff and comfort.

I'm just obsessed with R taking care of Mel and being really sweet.

Yeah that's it. I love your stories, they are really really good. And I could only think of you when this thing came out of my brain.

+ I absolutely loved what you did in "Know I'm Alive", I was kicking my feet and internally screaming. (I sent that anon 👉👈) So thanks, I enjoyed it a lot, like a lot a lot, like, if I could I would eat that it.

You're really talented!! <3

by the sun, by the moon

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above! | 4.8k

includes: no pronoun use for r, fluff, hurt/comfort, family play fights/sibling banter, r’s family adores mel, probably ooc!mel oops

warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamic (short), attempted violence (short), mentions/insinuations of sex, one outdated traditional value, sleep difficulties/nightmares, anxiety/panic attack

note: please feel free to skip the section that discusses the unhealthy relationship dynamic/violence. it begins after the first section divide with the line “for her entire childhood…” those topics are only explicitly stated there and only referenced one other time. please do not feel as tho you need to read triggering material to understand the story, i tried to make it understandable without having to read potentially distressing content :)

Melissa’s head tips back when she hears you coming back downstairs, having been waiting for you since your mom called during The Real Housewives time. The way you’re watching your feet with furrowed brows makes her fully turn until she’s kneeling on the couch, leaning over the back to get closer to you.

“Something wrong?” Melissa asks, reaching to grab your hand to pull you closer.

You shake your head, “no, no.” Warm hands rise to cradle the redhead’s face, “how would you feel about spending the night at my parents place Saturday? They’re hosting Jonah’s birthday, wanted our help to set up the night before.”

Her eyes widen, “just Saturday night?”

“Just Saturday,” you reaffirm, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. She cautiously nods, barely moving. “We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it, I’m not going to make you.”

“I know, I know,” she says through her breath, “we’ll stay the night.” The kiss you press to her forehead feels heavier than just a silent thank you.

—☽—

For her entire childhood and through her marriage, Melissa slept like a rock. She slept through Kristen Marie’s and Joe’s snoring, her college girlfriend’s sleep talking, her parents having a screaming match so loud the cops got called. Before starting teaching, she even had to train herself to wake up at the sound of her alarm, knowing that being late to the school was ten times worse than being late to JC Penney.

Two years after she finally left Joe, Melissa met Eric.

Tall, charming, nice-smelling Eric with his salt-and-pepper beard always tidy, a covered up Marine tattoo on his forearm. He’d bought her drink after his friend accidentally knocked hers off the counter of the bar, and two hookups later, she was agreeing to a real date. Three months later, she was his girlfriend and allowed him into her apartment. He got to know where the spare key was hidden after a year.

Eric was everything Joe was not. During arguments, Joe would shut down and leave, only returning when he smells like cheap liquor and some other woman’s perfume. Eric always stayed, told her his point of view, listened to hers, calmly told her when she was overreacting. He was smooth, never raised a hand towards her or threw things at the walls. Melissa always knew when she was in the wrong, but he never made her feel bad about it.

Eric was particular. He liked his shirts folded a certain way, beer only from a glass, and silence when he worked. If she was excited about anything, he only ever allowed her to speak about it until he’d lost interest, almost always by the time she paused to take a breath. When he properly introduced her to his friends, his hand on her knee would tighten when she spoke. Quickly, she learned that the tighter the grip, the less she should speak. Four hours at some sports bar and Melissa had only been able to say a total of six sentences. Eric liked Melissa quiet. Melissa became quiet.

He started to prod about meeting her family, and she shut him down. Again and again. The fourth time, he banged his fist against the table, the end of his fork creating a small dent. Green eyes fixated on the dent as he began to calmly explain that he had introduced her to his family, it was her turn. Mumbling those were your buddies got her stuck on her own couch that night, clutching the blanket Nana made her before she started college.

Two months later, she began to slowly bring back Eric’s clothing to his apartment on the off-chance they went there for a night. Grading her student’s assignments began to take longer and she triple-checked the scores to waste more time, suddenly too tired to have sex or even talk before going to sleep. Otherwise, she listened to his rules, spoke when spoken to, cooked when asked.

The morning he narrowly avoided calling her a moron to her face when she made the eggs over-medium instead over-easy, she officially made her choice. That night, at the Italian restaurant he brought her to, she called it off.

“Why?” Eric asked, eyes stone, unwavering from hers.

She took a deep breath, “you treat me like a pet. Speak when spoken to, move when told, I’m sick of it.” Her grip on the table cloth tightened, “tomorrow, I will put your stuff outside. You’ll pick it up when I tell you to, and then you will leave.”

He sits back in his chair, tongue poking at his bottom lip, “and if I don’t want to break up?”

“Too bad,” she shrugs. Standing from the table, Melissa leaves him with the check and the sad excuse of Italian cuisine on the table.

At work the next day, it takes all morning, lunch, and prep to fully debrief Barbara on everything that had been going on. It made sense to the kindergarten teacher why she had yet to meet this Eric fella, but after hearing this, she knew Melissa wasn’t proud of getting herself in this situation. A promise of a wine weekend and greasy food makes Melissa truly smile. Barbara hadn’t realized how fake every little grin had been until now, she missed her best friend.

That afternoon, Melissa came home to the loose brick that hid her spare key ajar. The blood in her veins runs cold. Opening the unlocked door, glass scratches across the wooden floor, crunching under her heels. Every picture frame, the television, the radio, the coffee table, the stovetop, the tea set from her grandfather, all smashed to pieces. Holes were in nearly every wall, the stair railing broken. The entire first floor was destroyed, only upstairs was left pristine, as if nothing had happened at all. Bat in hand, she checks every closet, under her bed, in the bathtub, everywhere. He was gone.

Leaning against the wall, she slides down and sobs. Melissa is forced to make a choice she didn’t want to make. Opening her phone, she calls Joe.

Joe, despite everything he had done, was at Melissa’s house within the hour. In one hand he held a bag from the hardware store, containing new locks and keys, the other hand had his very own bat, nails pounded through the wood. Like he said when they signed the papers, just because he wasn’t in love with her, doesn’t mean he didn’t care.

Three weeks later, after things had settled and locks were changed, Melissa felt more secure. Still every night, she woke at every sound, wind and the smoke detector quickly became her mortal enemies. Bundled in her soft pajamas and thick comforter one night, she finally fell into a hard, deep sleep forced from pure exhaustion.

Paperclips, a screwdriver, and a small sheet of flexible metal are all someone needs to pick a lock and shift the deadbolt. Eric surely knew that, always the smart man, yet never the brightest. Slowly, he moved up the stairs, bourbon fueling his motions as well as his heavy steps.

A particularly loud thunk wakes Melissa, hand flying under her pillow to the bat Joe had made her promise to keep there. Another thump made her jump out of bed and to the side of her dresser with an iron grip around Edith Houghton. When her door opened, she stayed pressed into the corner, hoping she stayed hidden just long enough for him to leave so she could grab her phone.

Liquor breeds stupidity, worsens it when it is already present, and Eric had left to check the bathroom. Quickly, Melissa called the police, shakily texting Joe as she whispered to the operator. At that point, she didn’t care who got there first. She just wanted to be free of him.

She moved to a new apartment before the month even ended. Barbara insisted on cameras, which Gerald installed. Joe insisted on a nailed up bat, which he made himself. Not a night has gone by since then where she didn’t have it within arms reach of the bed.

It took six years for her to sleep again.

—☽—

The light tracing of nonsensical patterns on her abdomen is what wakes Melissa, eyes cracking open to the bright sun peeking through the curtains. She wishes now, more than ever, that she had agreed to the blackout curtains, groaning into her pillow. With the knowledge she’s now awake, several soft kisses press against her shoulder, traveling to her neck. With a sleepy grin on her face, Melissa turns to face you.

“Morning,'' you mumble against her lips, hand traveling up to her hair to separate the knots that you created. “Sleep good?”

The only response you get is a little huff that almost sounds like yeah, her face burying in your neck to hide from the light. You lay there with her, finishing your detangling mission as Melissa’s nails trace up and down your arm. A final, sound kiss lands on the crown of her head before you shuffle out from underneath her, reaching for your previous discarded university shirt and sweatpants. The redhead watches through droopy eyes, scanning over you before your pajamas cover everything she adores.

“Gotta get up, beautiful,” you say through a yawn as you walk out the room, “we need to be leaving for one.” A tiny groan escapes her lips as she rises from the bed, though a small smile crosses her lips when she sees your sweatshirt thrown over the chair in the corner, just waiting for her.

Not even halfway down the stairs, there’s a clatter from the kitchen and a quiet exclamation of fuck. “You’re not even awake and you want me up,” Melissa says as she walks to the coffee maker. She’s met with a small slap on her ass in return, not even caring to be embarrassed of the girlish giggle she lets out.

Whose fault it is that you’re late leaving, who could tell? Between the forgoing packing and wrapping your cousin’s present last night for a taste of Melissa and her lack of pants this morning, it’s hard to say. Nothing that going a gentle twenty over on the highway can’t mend.

Driving up the dirt road, the dense trees thinned and your parent’s yellow house came into view. Your father’s questionably functional truck sits in the front of the garage, your mom and brother’s cars parked close together on the lawn. Seeing the way your hands tighten on the steering wheel, Melissa slides her hand from your elbow to the free hand on your thigh, playing with your rings to calm you. Being at your parents house was always overwhelming, fun, but overwhelming.

Narrowly avoiding scraping the side, you pull in next to your brother’s car. Looking at each other, you and Melissa give each other a nod of we got this. She’d been over here before, she’d been to three family reunions and almost every birthday party, but never had you two stayed the night, always being some of first to leave to sleep in your own bed.

With a little grunt, you hop out of the car and jog to Melissa’s side to open her door. She gives you a half glare when you tap her hand away from helping carry the bags in, you never let her lift a finger, if you can help it.

“Well, look who decided to show up!”

Both you and Melissa jump at your mother’s yell from the porch, bangles clanking together as she widely waves to the both of you. Gravel crunches under her feet as she rushes over to the two of you, immediately pulling Melissa into a hug. Before you were banned from saying it, you used to joke that your parents preferred your girlfriend to their own child. The giant smile on Melissa’s face when she interacts with your family makes it worth it.

Tumbling upstairs, you bring your bags into your childhood bedroom with Melissa close behind. Even with every time she had been here, she loved being in your room. It was a time capsule of your life before college, all the posters of bands and movies still hanging on the walls, trinkets covering every space. She particularly loved the little collection of rocks on your bookshelf, clearly in order from favorite to least favorite.

The bed bobs as you both drop onto the mattress, groaning at the comfort after three hours in the car. You turn your face towards her, leaning to press a kiss to her shoulder, “I love you.”

Melissa leans in closer, “I love you, too.” She watches your eyes flick to her lips, beating you to the chase and pressing her lips to yours softly. It takes every ounce of effort to not moan at your tongue tracing her lip, her hand coming up to grip your shirt and keep you close. Stomping up the stairs makes you both jump apart, feeling like teenagers getting caught, not that the room was helping.

The door opens to show your dad, boots trekking in dirt that will inevitably get him in trouble with your mom. The hand not on the doorknob is over his eyes, “you two better be decent. Ma has lunch ready downstairs and clothing is probably mandatory.”

“Knock it off,” you mumble as you shuffle towards him so he can give your head a gentle noogie. Neither of you were big on hugs, only really being physically affectionate with your partners, but the love is always clear in every fistbump and hand on your shoulder.

You and Melissa trail behind your father as he goes to the kitchen, both fighting laughs after nearly getting caught by your dad. However, the second your mom peers over at the two of you, you both act like you had been silent the whole time, eyes flicking around in feigned innocence.

Lunch is a mismatch of all the foods your mom made for the birthday party the next day, making you all be her taste testers, even if she only really wants Melissa’s opinion as the other cook in the family. Pasta salad, potato salad, mac and cheese, shortcake, even some chicken with her new lemon pepper recipe. You and your brother fight over who gets first dibs on the pasta salad, ending with his wife taking the serving spoon from your hands and grabbing some for herself.

“Act your age,” Kennedy says to her husband, making you laugh, before she gives you a sharp glance, “that goes for you, too.” Melissa turns away to unsuccessfully hide her own laugh from you.

Lunch ends with your mom and your brother arguing over another serving of macaroni, “we need food for tomorrow! Fuck’s sake, Marcus.”

—☽—

Your father divides everyone into groups to set up the backyard. Your mother takes Melissa and Kennedy to help set up the tables and lights, forcing you and Marcus to help your father with the tent, bonfire pit, and yardgames.

Getting all the yardgames for the little cousins was the easy part, even if it took a while because the three of you had to play a game of cornhole before you could do anything else. None of you got a single one in after two turns, making you all set into defeat, the game was agreed between the three of you to be stupid now. With your father taking a break now, getting the tent together was a doomed venture with you and Marcus.

“If you don’t let me hold it up, it’s gonna keep falling.”

“Fuck off! No, it won’t,” Marcus says with confidence, trying to stand the tent all at once before securing it. Four had already fallen, and a job that should only take twenty minutes was taking nearly an hour.

“How is it gonna stay up if nothing’s holding it, huh? Thought you knew everything?” He flips you off and doesn’t answer, continuing putting the spike in the ground, though without the other end being held up, the weight pulls it down again. Giving up, you walk away and attempt to find your dad for something else to do. You stop in your tracks, just step from the patio.

Watching Melissa with your family always makes butterflies erupt in your chest. She used to be so nervous around them, uncharacteristically quiet and meek, but now she’s almost as carefree with them as she is with her own. The sunlight makes her hair shine, and it’s damn near impossible to look away. It seems you’re of similar mind, her head turning towards you, fighting a grin when she sees the dopey grin on your face.

You almost start to walk towards her, but a strong hand pulls you back. Your dad pushes the hatchet into your hands, “you’re on firewood duty.”

“Bu-”

“Nope, you’re not slinking off to your girl. Go chop the wood, Casanova,” he says as he walks back to help Marcus with the tent.

It’s hours before you even get a chance to see Melissa again, as if your parents were keeping you apart. Which they were, knowing that you’d ignore everything you had to do if it meant you got to just look at Melissa. By the time you got back inside, the button up you’d been wearing was abandoned on a lawn chair and you were out of breath. How much firewood does one bonfire even need?

Walking in the backdoor into the kitchen, Melissa is leaning against the counter, her eye on the mixer filled with what will be cheesecake going to your tanktop clad form as she chats with Kennedy. Creeping up beside her, you wrap an arm around her waist and press a lingering kiss to her cheek, mumbling a greeting into her skin before trudging upstairs to shower the sweat and dirt off.

—☽—

By the end of the night, everyone is half-awake and struggling to keep their eyes open as a TV movie drones on. Neither you or Melissa are paying attention, too wrapped up in one another in the arm chair. Legs dangling over the arm, Melissa is seated on your lap, head tucked into your shoulder as you mindlessly play with her hair. The hand on the back of your neck stops its soft ministrations, her breathing slowing as she fights falling asleep.

You speak quietly for only her to hear, “you ready for bed?” She just nods against you, and you tap her legs to prompt her to move. Her hands hold onto your arm to steady herself, wavering where she stands.

“Alright, we’re calling it. Night guys, we’ll see you in the morning,” you announce into the room as Melissa starts going towards the stairs, not trusting her ability to speak when she’s this tired. You get a quiet chorus of night before you walk to the stairs, but your mother’s voice stops your movements.

“Jellybean, could you do me a favor and take the trash out before you head upstairs?” she asks without taking her eyes off the TV.

You internally groan before nodding, turning to Melissa, “go up, baby. I’ll be right there.”

This catches your mother’s attention, immediately moving to face you, “you mean to say ‘goodnight,’ right?”

“What?”

Her eyebrows rise, “you’re saying goodnight, then going to your room. Right?” Melissa’s blood immediately runs cold, color draining from her face. If she was tired two minutes ago, she was wide awake now.

“No...” you say slowly, confused, “why would Mel not also be in there?” You peak over your shoulder to Melissa, giving her a look before your attention is back on your mother.

“So, you’re staying in the guest room? Or is Melissa?”

Your face screws up, “Neither of us? My room’s got a full, that’s fine for us.”

“No.”

“Hell you mean ‘no,’ Ma? Marcus and Kennedy are sharing a full, it’s not a huge deal,” you hear Melissa step down from the stairs, her shaky hand holding your elbow.

“Marcus and Kennedy are married, unlike you two. I know you live together, but my roof, my rules. You know that,” she says matter-of-factly. The other three people in the room pointedly avoid looking at you, not wanting to get on your mom’s bad side.

You argue back, “that’s fucking ridiculous, Ma. We are grown adults, in a relationship.” The arched brow on your mother’s face tells you that you shouldn’t be arguing, but she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know about the panic that is starting to eat away at Melissa’s veins at the sudden thought of sleeping without you, something she hasn’t done once in over three years now.

“No rings, two beds. Don’t think I won’t be checking.”

Not wanting to make more of a scene, Melissa tugs on your arm to gain your attention. Turning to her, you can see the silent plea in her eyes for you to give it up. Shoulders sagging, you let out a grumbled fine. Breaking away from her, you go to the kitchen and roughly pull the trash from the bin. It takes a great deal of effort to not slam the door as you stomp to the garage. When you come back in, you don’t bother saying anything to anyone, just wrapping an arm around Melissa to guide her upstairs.

When you get into your room, you shut the door and lean against it with a huff. The two of you silently change into your pajamas, moving slowly from exhaustion and an attempt to prolong your time together. Melissa turns away to fold her clothes on the bed, and you move to wrap your arms around her waist, propping your chin on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I’ll stay in here tonight. Not like she can’t ground me anymore.”

Melissa turns in your arms, loosely wrapping her own around your shoulders, “it’s alright, I’ll be fine. I don’t want her mad at you for my sake.”

“Baby-”

“Don’t do that,” she says, though the sigh in her voice gives away her uncertainty, “I’ll be okay, amore.”

Your eyes scan over her face before you nod. Her arms pull you closer, noses brushing before she presses a sound kiss to your lips. Melissa’s arms shift and her hands cup your face, moving your head to press kisses to your cheeks, forehead, and chin, until the sour look on your face disappears.

Tugging her into you, you bury your head into her neck, pressing a long kiss there. From her neck you mumble, “I’ll be in the room right next door.”

“I’ll survive in the guest room, this is your bedroom,” she says, though she doesn’t fully mean it.

“What’s mine is yours. Plus, this one’s more comfortable, you’ll thank me later,” you hug her tighter, “so... I will be next door.”

“I told you, I’ll be fine,” she says. It’s more for her than you this time. Three years. Three years of falling asleep with you still awake beside her and waking up with you already looking at her.

You walk her back towards the bed, getting in with her, though not under the covers. With everyone, especially your mother, you don’t think it’ll hurt to stay until Melissa falls asleep. Her back presses to your front, hand holding yours to her chest, fast beating heart beneath. In a hushed voice, you speak about little things that don’t matter in hopes that it will calm her enough. Slowly her breath evens out, face burying into the pillow as it always does when you hold her like this.

Carefully, you detangle yourself from her and press a kiss to her hair, “I love you.” Stepping out of the room slowly, you leave the door cracked just a little and eye Melissa before turning. At the top of the stairs is your mother, brows raised.

“You better be going to your own bed,” she says quietly, though her tone is hard.

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “I am. Just had to make sure Melissa was asleep first.” You try to go into the room next door, but your mom’s face is silently asking for context, “she doesn’t sleep well. Different place, different sleeping arrangement, it’s difficult.”

You don’t particularly appreciate the dismissive way your mom just nods before walking towards the master bedroom, clearly thinking it was just an excuse, but it’s too late to fight about it. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you can wake up and crawl into bed with Melissa before she wakes. You watch the crack in the door and listen for Melissa until sleep comes over you.

—☽—

Something wakes you just past three in the morning, an ear splitting scream coming from next door. At first, you think it’s just your own anxiety, closing your eyes slowly. A second scream, this time of your name, and you’re springing out of bed, throwing the door open hard enough to bounce off the wall and slam shut. Four steps bring you to your childhood bedroom, rapidly swinging the door open to run in, not noticing the others joining you in the hall.

When you get into the room, moonlight illuminates Melissa where she’s sitting up with a hand gripping her shirt as she breathes in quick, panicked pants, eyes flying around the room until they land on you. Before she can even reach for you, you’re practically pouncing on the bed to get in front of her. Your hands go to her shoulders, her own gripping your forearms, her watery eyes darting around your face. Taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, you motion for Melissa to mimic you, trying to slow her rapid breath and heart.

Short gasps become slow, shaky breaths as panic begins to fade and tears form. A whimper of your name makes you pull her into you, her arms gripping your shirt and she cries into your neck. Between broken sobs, only the words window, knife, and everywhere and mention of a him come through, but you understood. This wasn’t the first time Eric’s actions haunted her at night, though it had been nearly two years since she’d woken up in a sweat.

Peeking over your shoulder, you see your parents and brother in the doorway. The look you give your mother is filled with anger and a raised brow that says I told you to listen. The clear fury makes your father pull her back towards their own room, pushing your brother to his. Some level of courtesy hits your mom, closing the door fully before she gets tugged away.

Attention back on Melissa, you alternate between playing with the ends of her hair and lightly dragging your nails over her back under her shirt. You tuck her hair behind her ear, tacky from tears, “you’re safe, Mel. Nothing and no one’s going to hurt you, I promise. I wouldn’t let them.”

Rocking side to side gently, you feel her breathing return to normal, body no longer shaking from tears. Trying not to jostle her, you turn your body to lay down with her, keeping her tucked into your neck with your arms around her. Pressing a kiss to her head, you slide an arm down to grab her hand, lacing your fingers together.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, just below your ear.

You squeeze her hand, “you never have to apologize for this. If anything, I’m the one that should be sorry. I should have stayed.”

She sniffled, “I’m a grown woman, I should be able to sleep alone.”

“And I should be able to stand up to my mother about sleeping in the same bed as my girlfriend, yet here we are,” you say jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

Thankfully, she chuckles, the vibration on your skin making you smile, “so it’s all your fault.”

“I’ll gladly take the blame,” you mumble as you settle into the bed more, relaxing as you feel the redhead relax against you.

In a sudden move, Melissa props herself up over you, hair dangling in your face. Leaning down, she kisses your forehead, then each cheek, and finally your lips, long and loving. It’s a quiet thanks that she will never owe you.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you more,” you whisper back.

It takes half an hour for sleep to creep back in, Melissa’s breathing growing slow where she rests on your chest, your heart beating under her ear. When she eventually falls back asleep against your chest, you stay awake and trace lines on her back. You’ll gladly stand guard if it means she sleeps peacefully, stay awake if it means she’s safe.

note: solaris write a fic under 3k like u planned challenge good lord man. also thank you thank you for the compliment, it’s an honor to be the first person u thought of to write this. i hope i did ur vision justice <3

as always, feedback appreciated <3

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #lgbtq fanfiction #lesbian #lgbtq

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kteezy997 · 3 days

Text

Daddy’s Boy- Part Seven//t.c.

Warning: some angst

It was an extremely filling breakfast at the local diner, and you had a great time with the two boys. A part of you felt giddy, like you were on a date that your son just happened to join. You felt like something was really blossoming between you and Timmy again.

Timmy had forbidden you to pay the breakfast bill, and Theo was playing the claw machine piled high with stuffed animals nearby. You had an idea that had been brewing during the meal.

“So I was just thinking: maybe tonight Theo and I could stay at your place? Or maybe just him, if you want to spend time with him one on one.” you hoped he would say “Oh no, I would love for you to come, too.”

Timmy's eyes widened, and he didn’t immediately agree.

Your heart dropped and you were instantly embarrassed.

“Oh, well I would love to have you both, but I have plans tonight, actually.” he slid his hand into his pocket, retrieving his wallet to pay.

You nodded, feeling almost sick to your stomach, “I see. What plans do you have?” you shook your head, knowing you had overstepped, and maybe assumed too much. “No, it’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s just…I’m meeting someone for dinner. A coworker. She, um, asked me to dinner. It’s not that big of a deal.” Timmy tried to brush the whole thing off in front of you.

“She? It’s a date? That’s nice, Timmy.” you weren’t being condescending, but you were masking your true feelings.

He looked at you, shook his head, his curls going wild just for a second, “Not really a date. It’s just dinner.”

“I bet she likes you. Everyone likes you.” And I have fumbled you.

“I hate that stupid game!” Theo grumbled as he came back over to the table.

You cleared your throat, looking at your son, “Hey, we don’t say those words, and you know that.”

“Sorry, Mom. It’s just that I never win anything.” the boy frowned, picking up his little cup of chocolate milk and taking a swig.

“It’s okay, bud, you have plenty of toys at home. And I’ll tell you something that’ll make you feel better.” Timmy said, leaning across the table.

Theo perked up, his eyes glued to his father, “What, what is it?”

“You are gonna come spend the night with me tomorrow night.” he grinned.

“Yeah!" Theo cheered, throwing his arms up in the air like he had won a prize from the claw machine after all, "Sleepover at Daddy’s! Can I bring my Hot Wheels?”

"You can bring whatever you want." Timmy said.

You gave him a look from across the table.

"Within reason." he added.

.............

You were a bit of an emotional wreck for the rest of the day. Timmy went home and you talked Theo into spending the night at your parents' house. You needed a break. You needed time to think.

You needed to talk to someone about your situation with Timmy. You had begun to think that you had let him slip through your fingers, and now you were worried that you would only be Theo's mom in Timmy’s eyes and not a potential partner.

You asked your best friend Lucie to come over and she came through with pizza and her listening, compassionate ears. You had told her everything. She had always liked Timmy; she thought that you were a great match together, and she adored Theo.

"I don't know, Luce, what if he goes out with this other woman and they start dating? My life would be ruined having to see him with someone else.” you put your hand to your head, “And it would be another thing that Theo would have to get used to. Things were going so good. I should have just told him that I wanted to be with him."

"Y/n, you have trauma, not necessarily from Timmy, but from the breakup and not having Theo's father around. Of course, you were skeptical about putting yourself back out there, and you were right to not rush something that you weren't sure about. Especially since you also have Theo’s well-being to consider.”

You sighed, knowing that she was right. "But if it was the right thing, why do I feel like this? It's too late to do anything now."

Lucie frowned, "Who says it's too late? You could leave right now, and stop him from going on that date."

You laughed, "Right now? That's crazy! He could be gone already.

"Let's go, let's go right now!" she said, "We can try to catch him." Lucie grabbed your hand, pulling you, and rushing out of your home. "You are going to tell that man that you love him, and you want to raise Theo together and make more babies." she said, matter-of-factly.

"This is insane!" you yelled, getting into your best friend's car and she sped off into the night. You could feel the adrenaline and exhilaration that the moment was bringing.

…….

You knocked the door of Timmy's apartment, not even certain if he was home. All you had was hope. After a moment, your stomach went sour as there was no answer. You decided to give up, as he was probably out on his date.

You swallowed your pride and realized that it was time to come to terms with your relationship, or lack thereof, with Timmy. This night could be detrimental to your life going forward. He could have a new girlfriend, and everything between you and him would wash away with the changing tide. You decided to walk away.

You were walking away from the door, when suddenly, you heard the turning of a the door knob.

"Y/n?"

You turned around quickly, seeing Timmy standing in the doorway that you had just left. "Timmy." you said, going back over to him, feeling a little dazed because you couldn't believe he was actually there. It wasn't too late!

"Are you okay? Is Theo okay, wh-where is he?" the concern in his eyes made you feel terrible guilt. You had caused him to needlessly worry.

"Oh we're fine! Everything is fine! He's with my parents for the night." you assured him. "I just had to come and see you."

"Y/n, what's going on?" his face softened as he looked at you.

"Timothee, I don't, I don't want you to go on this date tonight, I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner. And maybe I have no right to say that to you, but-"

"I won't go if you don't want me to." he shook his head, gazing down at you, so tenderly.

You couldn't help but smile a little at what he had said, and for the first time, you felt like your feelings and assumptions were validated. "I love you, Timmy. I've always loved you. I love the man you are and the father you are becoming to our son. I think we... should be together." you felt your throat tighten up with the nerves you were feeling.

He grinned, saying, "I hate that we were ever apart." He took your hand, pulling you close to him.

In an instant, you felt warm and tingly in the best way. You were mush when you were this close to him. You felt at home.

"Come here." He put his forehead to yours, wrapping his arms around you and shutting the door behind you. "I love you too." he kissed your lips softly, then parting to add, "And I love our boy more than anything."

You threw your arms around him as well, and you pressed your lips to his. Your heart and your body were on fire. After a moment, you were making out shamelessly.

Timmy picked you up and took you over to the couch.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @mel-vaz @thatoneweirdgirl17 @iwishchalamet @jindongdongie @elloise0 @rennyd26 @briefkittenearthquake @that-one-fangirl69 @sammy-halpert

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothée imagine #timothee x reader #timothee fanfic

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luveline · 22 hours

Note

Missing my zombie!steve husband 🫶🏻

quiet day at the camp… hope something bad isn’t brewing… zombie apocalypse au <3 fem, 2k

Steve loves the sound of the river, but he only allows himself a moment to lay down on the riverbank during laundry hours.

You stand knee deep in the water with your pants and sleeves rolled up, the corrugated metal of an old shed roof that’s been repurposed into a washing board held to your chest. It was pointless to roll your sleeves up, you’re soaked to the bone, even your hair, but the summer sun keeps you warm.

“Don’t get too hot!” you call.

“I’m fine,” he says, unwilling to shout.

“He’s fine!” Robin shouts from beside him. “Numbskull.”

Steve stares at you, locking you in, so to speak, the nice shape of your hip and stomach, the mess of your wet hair. Tonight, he’ll help you fix it, but there’s no rush and no hurry to dry off while the sun is out, and the fences are up. He turns onto his stomach. Grass tickles his cheeks.

“You sure you’re okay?” Robin asks quietly.

“Fine. Can you tell me if she needs help?”

“Sure.” He listens to the sounds of her moving, likely pulling the slim lengths of her legs against her chest to hug herself, the tan leaves of a book spread out just in front of her.

Steve could really go for a cigarette. You swapped the last box you found for toothpaste, isn’t that how it always goes? You and Robin found a cheat code in the apocalypse, nicotine with a capital ‘N’. You swap Arctic chewable for socks without holes and boxes of Marlboro’s for the bathroom essentials. Everybody wants them, and you’re great at finding them. Steve never thought he’d crave a cigarette again considering he wasn’t addicted, having smoked for a couple of months in high school to feel cool with his friends, stopping when his mom asked him to. He doesn’t remember why. She’d asked, and he’d listened, as he used to do. Swim team, cross country, basketball, lifeguard training, mowing the lawn, not upsetting his father, taking out the trash, vacuuming, no drinking and driving; task after task after task. Some of it was easy. He liked doing the dishes, and he loved taking care of his mom even if she didn’t feel the same.

Not that it matters now. Does it matter now? He’s never gonna see her again. She’s a memory. She’s a bad memory, most of the time.

The more he reflects on it, he decides. She was a bit shitty, but she’s his mom, and she’s likely gone, so he’ll try to remember the cookies they made together and the way she’d smile at him after she tied his shoelaces before school. And also the mean fucking bitch she’d turn into when she drank two glasses of wine.

“What are you thinking about?” Robin asks.

“That’s the wrong soap,” you say from the river. Your voice floats over the breeze.

“Fuck off, soap is soap,” Eddie says, your not-so-new friend, Steve’s sworn enemy.

“I’m just saying,” you laugh. “Look, I’ll wash, you rinse.”

“I’m thinking about that time,” Steve begins, holding his hand out toward her, open but not expectant, “when my mom and dad came home early from his business trip in Missouri and found us sleeping together.”

“I’d never heard your dad laugh before,” Robin says.

“My mom really didn’t like you after that.” He smiles as she takes his hand. They were a lot more touchy, pre-apocalypse. He misses that sometimes.

“I don’t even think she thought we were dating.”

“She was disgusted.”

“She said we were being weird teenagers.”

“I guess we were. I never had a friend like you before so maybe I can’t blame her,” he says. He has something special with you, you’re a best friend because you’re half of his heart, but Robin was his first proper best friend, and remains it. “I missed you a lot when we were stuck in Indiana. There were a ton of times where shit would go wrong and I would get mad at you because I knew you’d know how to fix it, but you weren’t there.”

“You’d get mad at me?” Robin asks, squeezing his hand. “You jerk. Be mad at yourself.”

“Can you wait for me next time?” he asks.

Robin’s quiet, then she laughs, “I’m nodding but you can’t see.”

He wonders how she’s feeling. He admits to not doing that much in the past. Not that he didn’t think about how he made others feel, he was always worrying about that after Nancy, but he can’t say he thought of it in the moment. Steve forces himself to sit up and offer his arms for a hug, which Robin gladly accepts, her frazzled laugh on his neck as he pats her back.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“You know Y/N says I’m possessive?”

Robin leans away, fingers curled around his elbow. “You’re fighting?”

“No, just. She says I’m possessive, that I get mad about, you know, my people.”

“Right. Isn’t everybody?”

“I never thought I did. I’m not, like, too proud most of the time.”

“Steve, this is super introspective,” she says, frowning, smiling, a weird expression somewhere melding in the middle of happy and concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay? It’s fine if you’re not.” She laughs shrilly. “I woke up the other day and cried and then ten minutes later I felt fine. I’m far from okay.”

Steve glances past Robin’s head to watch you in the river. You’re sitting down amongst the stones. It really isn’t too deep, water to your ribcage washing suds down to Munson, who’s smiling at you kindly, not smarmy or flirting, just smiling.

“Why did you cry?” he asks quietly.

“I missed my cousin, I think.”

Steve curls his arm behind her head and encourages her in for a fiercer hug.

“Think we should probably go help them,” she mumbles.

He takes it for the brush off that it is; sincerity is too much to take, sometimes. If she wants to be evasive about it that’s okay, she already took the leap and admitted to getting upset.

“I cried thinking about Y/N’s hands the other day,” he says.

“Steve.” Robin rubs her eye with the heel of her hand. “I don’t even know what to tell you.”

“What? I’m trying to show you I’m pathetic so you don’t feel bad.”

“I know you’re pathetic, and I don’t feel bad.” She climbs off of the ground and brushes broken grass off of her legs. Steve climbs up next to her, nudging her with his elbow. “You’re mucho pathetic. It’s kind of crazy.”

“I think I might try and drown him,” he says conversationally.

“Why now?”

“Why do you think?” Steve asks, toeing off his shoes and peeling off his socks, nearly pitching forward on the wet bank closer to the river.

You and Eddie look up as they approach from different spots of the water. Your smile at seeing him winds him for the thousandth time, just so happy to see him, so in love with you he doesn’t even know what to do for a few seconds. “Hey, honey,” he says, “can I help?”

“Now you wanna help?” you ask, gesturing to your soaked front.

You’re messing with him, and he doesn’t care anyways, you can talk to him like crap if you want to. He shuffles down from the mud of the riverbank and into the water, cold and wet like a shock against his ankles, softer as it climbs to his knees. You’re sitting where it’s more shallow, opposed to Eddie on his knees and almost drowning further down. He puts his hand on your wet shoulder and kneels down in the water beside you. “Wanna hug?” you tease.

Steve hugs you. Doesn’t care that you’re soaking or that the water is freezing against his crown jewels, though he shivers by your ear, prompting your laugh like bubbles in his own. “It’s cold,” he says.

“Freezing!”

Not to be a freak, but he can feel your chest pressed to him, and he knows you get achy in the cold. He wraps his arms doubly behind your back and rubs at your sides. “How much laundry’s left?” he asks. “We’re gonna get hypothermia. Again.”

“You didn’t get hypothermia,” you remind him, folding into his space. “Steve… is everything okay?”

“Do I look mopey today? Robin just asked me the same thing.”

“You don’t look mopey, but you’re being touchy. You’re cuddling.”

“How am I not supposed to cuddle you, dummy? I’m keeping you warm enough to function right now. Without me you’d be an ice cube floating down the river.” He leans back to hold your face in one hand, your cheek under his thumb, water racing down his wrists and your neck.

You push against his hand gently with your cheek.

“Sorry,” he says.

“What for?”

For lots of things. “I didn’t realise how cold the water was. I would’ve come to help you.”

“It’s fine. I scrub everything and then Eddie catches it. We’ve only lost one pair of underwear,” you say. “The river’s like a long washing machine.”

“How much do you have left?” he asks.

“Nothing. I was just about to get out.”

“Couldn’t have told me that before I came to get you?”

“No,” you say, lifting your chin. Not challenging, but close. It’s an offer, Steve decides, kiss me or don’t kiss me. You don’t seem to realise he doesn’t decide, he needs you. If you always wanted to kiss him, you’d always be kissing, all the time, everywhere.

Steve gives you a quick peck. “Come on, let’s go set up the line.”

You somehow, together, make your way back to the tents without freezing to death after throwing your clothes on a drying line between trees. It’s warm enough that stripping down to your skivvies is mildly pleasant (away from the eyes of the other campers). You get dressed in the softest clothes you own upon Steve’s insistence, sweatpants and a dark hoodie, three pairs of socks and the tent door left open, before he lays you down on the sleeping bag, and settles between your legs, his full weight bearing down on you, his face nestled in the damp crook of your neck.

“I couldn’t kiss you the right way,” he confesses.

“Why?” You pull mildly at the ends of his hair.

“‘Cos I always want more than one kiss.”

“That’s a strangely romantic way to say you wanted to make out with me,” you whisper.

“It’s not like that,” he insists, even though he does want to, and he did in the river, and he does all the time.

“You’re getting kinda heavy, Steve,” you mumble.

“What?”

“It’s a good thing.”

“How dare you.”

“We got sorta frail for a bit.” You wrap an arm around his head, tip of your nose to his forehead.

“Yeah. Lucky we’re in camp Eddie now,” Steve says.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that,” you murmur, so close to sleeping Steve can tell. You just need a feeling of security to nudge you over the edge.

“Lucky we’re together.” He climbs off of you slowly so as not to rouse you too much, kissing your slack cheek as he settles on your shoulder. “You and me. I don’t care where we are.”

He ends up falling asleep not long after you, lulled by the rhythm of your light snore.

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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russellsppttemplates · 20 hours

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https://www.tumblr.com/russellsppttemplates/748410598698663936/i-might-do-another-blurb-night-soon-so-if-you?source=share

feeling a little under the weather recently (happens to the best of us fr) so could you write a charles leclerc x fem reader where reader is like studying and busy trying to balance social life and studying and being active and he notices it so he comes back from a race weekend and calms her down and they have a short rest day? thank youuuu!!!

Note: I hope you feel better soon! 🫶✨️

"Didn't you go on a run yesterday?", Charles asked as he called you for the second time after he was done with all his duties after the race, the first call missed because you had tried a new pilates studio and had to go back home to shower and change because you had a brunch with your friends.

"Yes, but the pilates was fun too! Question: this shirt or this shirt?", you showed him both options.

"The red one - c'mon amour, that was too easy", he smirked, "so you're having a day off? That's nice". Charles had noticed how tired you had been recently, trying to juggle every sphere of your life, so he was more than happy that you were taking the day off for yourself.

"No, I'm not! I watched the race, worked out and I'm having yummy food and then I'm coming back home to study for the afternoon", you assured him, "maybe tomorrow we can have some chill time when you come back", you smiled.

Charles would make sure of it.

"Amour, I'm home!", Charles called, leaving his bags by the door and looking for you, figuring you would be in the kitchen considering what time it was.

"Charles!", you smiled as you spotted him, setting the spatula down and hugging your boyfriend, "you did so well, I'm so proud of you!", you left little kisses on his neck before kissing his lips, "have you had breakfast? I can make some for you too", you pointed to the eggs on toast you were making.

"I'm good, I had some on the way here because I was starving, thank you though", he kissed your temple, "how about I just finish these and you go and pick something for us to watch on our lazy day?", he smiled.

"I have some flashcards to work on, I need to do them agai-", you tried but were quickly interrupted.

"Amour, if you don't rest, your body will start to slow down and it will be harder for you to get back to your usual rhythm", he cupped your face, kissing your nose softly, "I know you've been working hard, so let me treat you to a relaxing day today, okay?".

Despite your initial resistance, Charles was able to convince you to turn off your laptop and all of the notifications related to the university that could pop up, scooping you up after you had your breakfast and spending the rest of the morning cuddled up on the sofa.

"Thank you for doing this for me", you thanked Charles, playing with his hair, "I needed this", you admitted.

"I know you did", he smiled knowingly, "and I'm more than happy to make sure you rest".

"Can we have a bath together tonight?", you asked, looking at the clock and seeing it was the middle of the afternoon already.

"That's sound great, amour", Charles smiled, kissing your cheek, "I was also thinking we could make that lasagna - I know how much you like to cook and if you don't make it competitive, it can actually be relaxing and soothing".

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#charles leclerc blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

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creedslove · 2 days

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Hello baby!

What if our favorite cowboy organizes a date with his sugar, the man literally prepares everything alone or the best he can. He organizes everything in his ranch.

It was the first time he was so excited to receive her, prepared a meal, get ready, once he finally picked her up, he was like:

"Hell, sugar... you look so goddamn precious!"

Whisky being literally being a pleaser to his sugar, he teached her how to ride one of his favourites horses, his home, he doesn't know what else to do for her.

I hope you feel much better! I send you a big hug! ✨

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!reader

A/N: hi bestie!!! I love this so so so so much, this is such Agent Whiskey coded because he is a people's pleasure, and above all, he's a sugar pleaser, which means he'll please his sugar until the day he dies

• Whiskey is the king of date: he never lacks ideas, plans or any other thing to take his sugar on a date, he's got a wide range of creativity and money that helps a lot, so it's just a matter of picking up the mood for the day not to overdo himself

• he's definitely the kind of man who would drive you across town just so you can grab that one pie you had when you were PMSing years ago and you never forgot, or he would book you tickets for a weekend getaway if you complain about stress at work and stuff like that

• but even if he's great at pleasing, he's still a romantic at heart, so the best kinds of dates in his opinion, are the ranch dates, because he loves his ranch, it's a huge part of who he is, at his ranch, he's not just the tacky cowboy who talks funny and isn't afraid to pick a fight at places, but instead, he's himself, not Whiskey, just Jack, with his beautiful green fields, his horses, his simple life and his southern manners

• so you can expect a real weekend, because the cowboy isn't just going to invite you for a day, you're going to at least spend the night, have the whole ranch experience, all you gotta do is to say yes to it and he'll make it happen

• and he's a gentleman, let's not forget about that, so even if you insist you can drive to his ranch, chances are you aren't because he'll make sure to pick you up with his Bronco, he just wants you to take on a ride in it because he loves that car, it's pretty, comfortable, it's got status, and he's excited to be seen driving around with you in the passenger seat, just as he's excited to see you wearing your cute sunglasses as your hair flies loose at the window

• that if he doesn't gift you a cowboy hat the minute he picks you up, because yeah, he is gonna buy you a stetson, he just doesn't know when he's gonna give it to you, so why not in the beginning of the adventure, anyway?!

• and let me tell you: that cowboy's ranch is simply gorgeous! He will be so proud and happy to show you around, knowing exactly where to take you and what to do with you there, giving you a tour through the main house that's big and comfortable af obviously and then taking you to the stables so you can see the animals and play with them and all of them

• now, hear me: he loves horses, he's been riding them forever so if you know how to ride them, he will be glad to do so with your company, but if you don't, Jack will be thrilled to teach you from the very beginning, from how to actually get on the horse, to where to hold it and gentle guide it until you are feeling safe

• if the weather is hot enough, you can also expect him to take you swimming out at the lake, because let's face it: do you think Jack Daniels didn't grow up swimming in those waters around the ranch? He knows all the nice and pretty spots to take girls by the way, and you won't be different at all

• in the evening, you can expect him to throw a barbecue or just smoke some meat, but the thing is: it's gonna be outside, it's dark, warm and the lights will be on, making the ranch look so nice, although it's a little bit empty too, but it's a good thing since it's just the two of you spending time together; he'll serve you appetizers, the main dish, and the best liquor Statesman is capable of producing

• and yeah, he will roast marshmallows by the fire and tell you ghost stories about that land as if you two were in a summer camp together, and even if you know there's a big fat chance he's lying, you will still feel slight shivers down your spine and you will cling to him just a little bit tighter once the howling wind blows

• but once you two get back inside, it's sweet sweet love making with a sugar coated cowboy, where you can't have enough of him and he can't get enough of you, loving your body all night long and of course he'll greet you in the morning with breakfast in bed because he's a romantic at heart

• so chances are, you're gonna spend the morning in bed, enjoying the big breakfast and the cowboy's sugar and in the afternoon, he's definitely taking you for a picnic, with everything you're entitled to: a beautiful basket, a nice plaid towel, mini sandwiches and cake, all he wants is to spoil you

• watching the sunset together as you enjoy this romantic time is great, but as soon as the sun sets, he's gonna give you puppy eyes, asking you to stay the night once more, not ready to let you go home just yet 🥺❤️

____

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4rtificialfolio · 2 days

Text

It’s Complicated, My Darling - Chapter 1

Chpt. 1: “Cat got your tongue, doll?”

“Ada is an operative in the 1940s from Brighton in England, sent over to New York City to work with the Americans, uncovering secrets and spying on potential suspects. She meets a handsome young man, Nick Folio, on the train into the city; little does she know how that moment would change the trajectory of her life”

Parings: Nick folio X OFC (Ada Chapman)

Word count: 1.6K

Chapter Warnings: brief mention of war, slightly suggestive, explicit language, fluff

Series master list

(see masterlist for overall warnings, chapter begins below the cut)

Ada

May 20th 1941

New York City, USA

7:00 am

Dear Diary,

Yesterday is still a haze and I barely slept all night, tossing and turning thinking about him. I still can’t believe my luck or lack thereof. Things are always too good to be true and yesterday proved that. God damn you, Nick. It had to be you didn’t it? Who am I kidding, we met once and he’s cute but that’s it. I don’t know him, he was just an attractive man on the train who just so happens to be the man I’m being told to track. It can’t be so different from any other mission, can it? I can do this, I’m bloody brilliant at this job and this mission will be a piece of cake, I hope.

In other news, Dad sent another letter. He thinks they might have to evacuate soon, after the raid on the Portsmouth docs the whole town is on edge but hopefully, it won’t come to that. Denis is already missing and I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Dad and Peggy too. I can’t think about that, I shouldn’t.

Anyway, I’ll be back tomorrow.

I’m sure I’ll have a more interesting update after I’ve started my undercover work today,

Ada

The Precinct, 9:30 am

My train was delayed today, my first day on the cover job and I’m already late. Great first impression Ada!

“Miss Chapman, I presume?” a middle-aged man, with a not-so-flattering navy blue suit and a grey homburg hat that he definitely should’ve thrown away in the 30s, calls my name from across the ground floor.

“A little late but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt considering It’s your first day”. By the affirmative tone of his low, grumbling voice, I assume he’s the captain; Michael Brewer. I wonder if he knows he’s missing a button on his shirt?

“Yes sir, nice to meet you. Apologies for my Tardiness”

“Please follow me, I’ll take you to your desk so you can settle in. We run a tight ship here Chapman and I expect the very best from my employees, no less. let's hope you can keep up” I internally snicker at the tight ship remark. If it truly was a tight ship, I wouldn’t be here. If not for the fact I’m here undercover, I wouldn’t bat an eyelid at that sentence; but something about it unsettles me. Alarm bells ring in my head. Michael will be on my watch list.

The tour is pretty mundane, I’ve only been hired as the secretary for my department so there’s no need for me to see the entirety of the precinct however, one room, in particular, catches my eye. The captain’s office, I’ll have to make a mental note of its whereabouts. Michael has been rambling on about the pride and joy of the precinct, and how he’s “built a family he can trust”; I refrain from laughing, being late on my first day is one thing but being fired for rudeness on the first day? I think I’ll pass. Before I know it, We’ve already reached my department floor. It’s nothing too extravagant but it’s certainly the biggest. The criminal investigation department has the most employees in the entire precinct, from the constable to the detective team, the sergeant, translators, the medical examiners and then there’s me, the secretary. I know Nick is a detective and, in fact, I’m pretty sure he’s the lead detective. Speaking of him, I wonder if he’s in today?

Before I can allow myself to get carried away with my wondering thoughts, Michael finally finishes his boastful rant and shows me to my desk.

“Right chapman, this is your desk. You’ll be doing the majority of your administrative work here but it’s important to store any important and private documents in the file room and I expect them to be logged at the end of each shift. Understood?” Having to lock them away might be a slight problem, I need solid evidence for this case but having access to the file room could be beneficial.

“Yes sir”

“I’ll leave you to settle in and meet your colleagues, we’re happy to have you, Chapman”

“Well look who it is!” an oh-so-familiar voice averts my attention, making me turn away from my desk.

“Nick? Uh I mean Mr Folio” Addressing another boss of mine by his first name, today is just tip-top.

“What’s with the formalities Doll? Please everyone calls me Nick around here, Mr Folio sounds way too formal for my liking”. My breath hitches and I chew on my bottom lip as he calls me ‘doll’. Doll, I like the sound of that. He looks extra sexy today. Sure he looked handsome in a black tank top, but now? He’s wearing a white spear point collard dress shirt paired with navy blue suit trousers with white stripes, a brown, white dotted tie and brown leather oxfords. I can’t help but stare, the top two buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbow, showing off his tanned, veiny arms. Heat flushes across my body down to my core, he’s hot. Real hot and I’m flustered.

“Cat got your tongue, doll?” He smirks. There’s that damned nickname again.

Everything about him entices me and I know these feelings are wrong, but I just can’t help myself. I’m supposed to be working against him, spying on him and digging for info but he’s just so sweet to look at.

“Sorry just a little tired, what did you say?”

“I said I was about to go on lunch and you owe me a lunch date, care to join?” A date? I’m sure it’s just a figure of speech.

“Sure! You’ll have to pick where we go, I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the city yet” Nick quickly grabs his suit jacket and grey fedora from his desk at the back of the room and gently puts his hand on the small of my back to lead me out of the precinct. A tingle surges up my spine at the light contact, causing a slight shiver.

Nick takes me to a cute little diner about a block away. There’s a yellow and red sign that reads “Fred’s cafe & diner” and a couple of cars parked out front including a new, mint green chevrolet fleetline. Dad told me about these new cars in one of his letters, he thinks they’re an eyesore but I quite like them.

We settle into a small booth in the corner, right by the window that overlooks the narrow street next to the diner. I’m conflicted, I’m sat across from one of the most, if not the most, handsome men I’ve ever met. His eyes are so dreamy; he’s practically eye-fucking me from across the table, looking down ever so slightly at my lips, as I make small talk about the fleetline out front, and my stomach turns to goo. I begin to wonder what what his lips taste like, how he’d look pushing me up against the wall; but it’s a fleeting thought. Stay on track Ada. A waitress takes our orders and there’s a tense silence among us.

“So doll, how are you enjoying the city so far?” I wish he’d stop calling that.

“It’s not too bad, I really miss the beach and my family but I love the livelihood here. It's a nice change” Home, I miss home. All I want is to hug Peggy and Dad but until the war is over, this is home in the meantime.

“Damn I don’t know why you’d pass up the seaside to live here of all places, but I’m glad you did” Leaning forward on his arms, he smirks.

“Really?”

“Sure, I get to look at your pretty face every day. Sounds like a nice perk to me” He winks. My cheeks turn a subtle shade of pink whilst I find myself attempting to stop a cheesy grin from spreading across my face.

“How about you? How does life here compare to Maryland?”

“Hmm It’s good, I love the job but I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the war. I used to be a detective back in Maryland but I was relocated here to help with the war effort” Sometimes I forget about the war; moments like these make me feel normal and happy as if there’s not a single care in the world. But then I read the paper and I’m brought back to reality.

“Watch’ya thinking in that pretty little head of yours?” Concern starts to grow on his face.

“I was just thinking of home and the war, you know? I miss my family and life before it all started” My heart sinks thinking about it all.

“Oh doll, we don’t know each other too well yet and I know I can’t compare to your real home, but I promise I’ll do my best to make you a home away from home. Can’t stand to see a pretty face frown.” Is this the right guy? I mean, really? This is the so-called dangerous man who’s supposed to be stealing money from the precinct? I’ve never met such a gentle, caring soul; and not to point out the obvious but, fuck he’s handsome, I wouldn’t mind feeling his hands on my hips sometime. No, no I can’t think like that. I have a job to do, I mustn’t lose my focus. My thoughts are quickly averted as Nick says my name from across the table, signalling our lunch break is almost over. Come on Ada, snap out of it.

“Thank you, Nick. I’m sure I’ll feel right at home with you”

With you? Shit.

I am royally fucked.

AN: Sorry this took so long! I was in a really long writing slump but i'm hoping to get a chapter out every two weeks (no promises). I'm really looking forward to you guys seeing what happens between Nick and ADA. Ada has very quickly become my favourite character I've ever written. Please let me know your thoughts! Again, please let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list for this series :)

reminder my inbox is always open if you’d rather send your thoughts about this series or any of the omens members anonymously (no fic requests).

Tag List: @iknownothingpeople , @dsireland86 , @vinyardmauro , @thatchickwiththecamera , @blackveilomens

#nick folio #bad omens #bad omens band #noah sebastian #jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo #bad omens fic #nick folio smut #nick folio fic #fish boy #4rti #4rtificialfolio #it's complicated my darling

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