they’re cool gals
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The Bachelors and How They Sleep
hello lovelies! Have some more of my headcanons. These HCs are for a gn! reader. If you have any requests then feel free to send me an ask! Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated 🌷🤍
Alex:
🏈 Moves a lot during his sleep. But he doesn't outright punch you by accident. You always seem to end up being under him.
🏈 Mumbles a lot too. One time, you woke up to him counting to himself, just like how he counts his bicep curls.
🏈 Wakes up early, just a few moments before you. He says it's because he needs to exercise the first thing in the morning. But it's actually because he felt you move out of the bed and he doesn't like to be alone.
🏈 Gives you all the pillows to make you comfortable. He says it's important for your muscles to get a good night's rest. He ends up hogging the blankets.
Elliott:
🪶 Sleeps like a dead man. He doesn't move at all, save for the occasional turning to the side to snuggle against you.
🪶 It takes him a while to finally succumb to slumber. He says it's because he's used to listening to the waves of the beach to fall asleep.
🪶 Silk pajamas, the man has sets of them. He keeps his hair down while sleeping so you sometimes wake up to your whole face being covered by his locks.
🪶 He's a late riser, mostly because he sleeps late too. He tells you that he writes better at night and he doesn't allow himself to rest until he's finished writing one chapter at least.
Harvey:
🛩️ Sometimes, Harvey forgets to take off his glasses before he goes to bed. Which is why he has so many broken ones that he tries to hide from you by kicking them under the bed.
🛩️ Professional cuddler. He always makes sure you're in his arms or vice versa. He needs to touch you in order to get a good night's rest. Doesn't matter if you two are spooning or if it's just his hand on top of your arm.
🛩️ Snores a lot. Goes "hoooonk mimimimimi hoooonk mimimimi"
🛩️ I like to imagine him wearing those pajamas that's like just a long night gown and those floppy pointy hats. You know the one.
Sam:
🎸 Alex mumbles in his sleep, Sam straight up sings. Usually it's outbursts of the choruses of his songs, sometimes he'd hum the tune out. You have a video of him playing air drums while sleeping. You sent the video to Abigail and Sebastian, and they never let Sam hear the end of it.
🎸 He wakes up super late most of the time. But on the rare occasion where he doesn't, he cooks breakfast and serves it to you in bed. Complete with a flower in a vase and everything.
🎸 Always kisses you before he falls asleep. Straight up drags you to his side of the bed to peck your lips.
🎸 Would take off his shirt to put it on you. He says he doesn't want you getting cold at night and waves you off when you refuse, worried about his wellbeing. "I don'T gEt sicK eaSiLy, Babe," ends up in the clinic to get meds the next day.
Sebastian:
👾 It's my headcanons and I say he moves a LOT during his sleep. So much so that you end up on the floor when you wake up. He refuses to believe that he does that.
👾 His sleep schedule depends on you. He refuses to sleep unless you're already in the house. He doesn't like the feeling of sleeping when he doesn't know you're safe. You'll find him waiting for you on the porch.
👾 Prefers to sleep on the side of the bed where the sun doesn't shine.
👾 Immediately feels it when you get out of the bed. And he wakes up immediately, groggy and needing a few minutes to register where he is. Even if you're just going to get a glass of water, Sebastian would wake up and ask where you're going.
Shane:
🐣 This man says good night to all the chickens in your coop before he goes to bed, I decided.
🐣 He used to get little to no hours of sleep but after moving in with you, he tries to get enough sleep as possible.
🐣 Hugs you in his sleep, all the time.
🐣 He wakes up the same moment you do, sometimes earlier. He gave himself the job to take care of your farm animals so you don't have to work too hard. So he wakes early to get the job done as soon as possible to spend breakfast with you.
🐣 My brother in Yoba, he would wake up in the middle of the night to get a snack. You would sometimes catch him in the middle of drinking cows milk straight out of the bottle in front of the open fridge.
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VETERINARIAN!SATORU
CONTENT WARNINGS: fluff, angst, hurt & comfort, loss of a pet, poisoning, smut, breeding kink, talks of pregnancy and children, dad!gojo, this one’s kinda sad but it ends well i promise!!
sena’s note: i was torn between dentist or vet!gojo and then i was like… all animal-loving men can get it and so can gojo.
MINI-SERIES MASTERLIST
➩ VET!SATORU who had studied and graduated abroad, having finished his studies with excellent grades and a bright future ahead of him
➩ VET!SATORU who had a hell lot of patients, and who was aware that over half of them were pets owned by ladies yearning to see the attractive young doc in scrubs, which he couldn’t blame them for
➩ VET!SATORU who never rejected new patients even when his assistants complained multiple times about how overbooked the calendar always was, because to him, all that mattered was to nurse all furry little babies back to health
➩ VET!SATORU who was about to close the clinic one evening, his assistants all having left long ago, just to hear the sounds of faint footsteps rushing to approach the clinic
“please, please help him! i— he’s been poisoned, i couldn’t—”
your sobs were cut off by satoru immediately unlocking the door he had locked seconds ago, and he tenderly took the faint cocker spaniel from your shaking arms. he was barely breathing, and foaming at the mouth.
“miss, try to calm down,” he told you calmly, pointing at one of the chairs in the treatment room when he saw how distraught you were. he would love to cheer you up right now, but time was critical. very much so. “please sit down. i’ll do anything i can.”
you mumbled prayers under your breath as you watched satoru checking your baby’s vitals, injecting apomorphine intravenously to induce vomiting. but it was too late.
➩ VET!SATORU who spent the next few hours in the clinic, watching you break down over your best friend’s loss as you fondled and kissed him, unable to let go; who despite loving his profession so dearly, couldn’t help but loathe it at times like these
➩ VET!SATORU who felt incredibly guilty watching you leave with the unmoving body of your senior dog’s in your arms after you told him you’d be burying him in your parents’ house garden
➩ VET!SATORU who couldn’t really sleep after that, his mind occupied with the images of you desperately trying to save your pawed friend and who grieved the loss of a companion from your teenage years
➩ VET!SATORU who took in two puppies who had been left in a box in front of the clinic, both pretty shades of brown, one of which had the same slightly curled fur as the dog that had slipped from his fingers and he had failed to save
➩ VET!SATORU who walked into the clinic one morning, greeting all waiting patients and their owners enthusiastically, just to pause when he sighted you standing at the counter
➩ VET!SATORU who called you inside first and watched through shaded glasses as you handed him a bag, your eyes dampening when you stared at the table your dog had taken his last breath on
“i forgot to thank you for your services and how you tried everything to save him,” you said softly, voice wavering, “i will pay for it before leaving, i just wanted to give you this.” he swiftly shook his head no, hesitantly accepting the bag to take a look inside. it was a box of chocolates and a bag of dog treats.
“these were his favorites,” you pointed out, chuckling nostalgically, “used to gobble them up like there was no tomorrow. i figured that the other girls and boys who come here might want to try what my boy loved.”
➩ VET!SATORU who excused himself for a second and returned with two tiny pups in his arms who wagged their tails at the charming young man, watching the way your eyes lit up at both of them
“some vile person just abandoned them in front of the clinic. they resemble your baby, don’t you think? i was going to keep both because i never give any animal away, but if you—”
“yes, absolutely!”
you carefully accepted one of the pups, cooing softly when it yipped and snuggled into your touch. satoru just smiled when you then stared at the other pup, seeing the obvious resemblance between them.
“i wouldn’t want to seperate them, though.”
he fell in love with you at that very moment.
“this little, handsome buddy is welcome to come and visit his lovely sister anytime.” he was happy that he finally got to see you smile and laugh.
➩ VET!SATORU who knew that you were the one when he saw you tending to your new pup with the utmost care, always eager to learn more about how how to handle and raise a puppy correctly
➩ VET!SATORU who already had a little family with you, because was there anything more intimate and sweet than having pets together? — but who couldn’t help but wish to have children with you as well
➩ VET!SATORU who was thrilled to find out the feeling was mutual
“wha— you’re off the pill?”
satoru was in the middle of fucking into you skillfully when you confessed it to him. you whimpered at his sudden lack of movement, nodding bashfully. “i know this is not the right time, but—,” you babbled, taking his hand to guide it to your lower belly, “‘m ready, satoru.”
his mind wandered to you swollen with your beautiful kids, tits leaking with your nourishing, sweet milk and face gifted with a natural pregnancy glow — not that you needed it.
“cum inside, ‘toru,” you whined against the pretty veterinarian’s kisses in-between his hips snapping against yours, “make me a mommy. gimme all of it.”
there was no way in hell that satoru wasn’t going to knock you up after this. and put a pretty little ring on your finger, of course.
➩ VET!SATORU who knew he had all he wanted as he saw you walk into the clinic a year later to visit your husband with your tiny babygirl on your arm, a spitting image of her father, and your two former pups on a leash, now grown in size as they wagged their tails wildly upon seeing the tall man in scrubs
➩ VET!SATORU who wondered if you’d say yes to a second child…
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— gorgeous, part 1
Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader
You're a vet - and you wouldn't ever think that a big guy with a skull face, kitten on his hands, would be in your clinic. (2,1k)
AO3 version
A/N: I have no self-respect; Poland won in volleyball, SO. your insane man and vet lady is here <3
next part
The first time you see him? It is a wild one.
You didn't really know how to react when your assistant, Bernie, stormed into your office, telling you that some "big guy with a skull mask" had a kitten that needed an examination. I mean, you were a vet, of course, and you ran your clinic to the 11 P.M. sometimes, but... the skull mask part?
First, you thought she was joking or trying to prank you, like in the past, when she told you that a guy came here with a head of a fish tank came to your clinic. When you thought about this later, it was really dumb that you believed that, but the emotions were too high before; you almost slipped on the floor when you were storming out of your office, to see if:
a) he actually had a fish tank,
b) if he had some fish in it.
The skull mask wasn't a joke, though; Bernie also looked like she saw a ghost or something, and was basically hidden after your figure when you went to the corridor, where patients should wait until it's their turn. Usually there weren't many people, only emergency ones, which happened rarely enough. You usually closed after 7, but today you decided to say a bit... longer.
4 hours longer, but who count that, right?
There was no one except indeed a big, huge guy in a skull mask and military uniform; at least you thought it looked like a military uniform, your friend's best friend, Johnny, had one like that. You probably wouldn't even speak to him if he hadn't had in his arms a cat that was meowing sadly, like something hurt him – or, her. You didn't know what it was yet.
Guy was scary as hell, and if he wanted to, he probably would've knock you out in just one move, but you walked closer to him – what he was gonna do, hit you with his cat in his hands?
"What happened?" that's the first thing you asked, as you approached the man; and for the first time, your gazes crossed.
His, unreadable, brown, piercing even. You couldn't even get a single thought from them, like it was behind some kind of shield, and it confused you, but interested you in the same time enough to know that this interaction will be seated in your mind for some time right now.
You always liked the mysteries, and he seemed like one.
"I don't know." he simply said, standing; and you could see how much bigger he was; not only in height, but in body, muscles. It was like a doll standing to a WWE fighter, as you watched those silly shows after your work at night. "Found that kitten near a dumpster. Seems like it's hurting, so..." he shrugged.
"Aren't you a talker" you murmured, your head up high, to look at him. "Come on in."
He said nothing; simply followed you, with that kitty on his big hands.
You didn't know his name even, and you were more than willing to help him, or more – to help this cat live without any pain because your heart was aching how pained and scared it was.
As well as your assistant, if you were talking about "being scared" part; she kept glancing at that big man, who put the animal on the special table (as you asked him to). It probably would be you in the past, the scared and with some kind of reserve but now, you were more than amazed with his gentleness to care about things like skull mask or the fact that he would crush you with his finger.
Trying to be as gentle as possible, you started examination; it was a certain routine if it was about strays, and this particular one seemed to be abandoned not so long ago.
Probably nothing was breaking your heart more than this; throwing animals to street instead of trying to get them a new home. You saw too much.
"I'll have to fill a report for animal shelter" you started after a few minutes, as you were trying to localize the cause of pain; it was probably a broken bone, but cat was pretty beaten up too. "And I have to know where it was exactly, if you know the streets around here. Maybe there's more kittens like this."
"Animal shelter?" he asked, and you could just feel how his brown eyes are piercing through your green scrubs.
Intimidating, to say the least, because in addition with his low, gravelly voice, it was something alluring, like you couldn't be indifferent about it. Hell, you didn't even knew the guy, he could be potential axe murderer that stopped in your clinic because he was sad about the cat.
"Yes, I can't take him. Someone has to." you explained.
"Who said I won't?"
As you raised your eyebrow, you looked back at him, in a little shock – positive one, though. Most of the people that were bringing strays weren't eager about giving them home, for multiple reasons, and you didn't judge. It was a good thing that they were bringing them here, but this man...
"So, you will?"
"Mhm."
You smiled under your nose, stroking the little kitten, as you waited for her to calm down, before taking her to an x-ray. Her new owner wasn't really talkative, but the most important thing was that he cared enough to not only bring her here, but to take her home.
It was easy to gain your trust, considering that the skull mask that he had right now wasn't so scary anymore.
"I'm gonna take her to an x-ray. Wait up here, okay?"
Again, no response, just a simple nod.
Was it thing about you two being strangers? He could act reversed only because of this, or he was maybe tired and didn't wanted to talk. Yet, you rolled your eyes to yourself while you were taking an x-ray in a special room.
Weird. Weird, because as the bubbly and talkative person you were here, always talking with owners of animals that were coming to you (or in some cases you were out in a farm or something), you couldn't do that here. I mean, right, he answered your questions, but it was... automatic.
Not leaving a small pole to discussion, and it was irritating at some point, because you wanted to tell him at least half of stories about strays and how it was heartbreaking to find them a proper, loving home. And how you were actually curious if he liked animals before, if he had any.
And yet you were, not able to talk to him in any way that would untie his tongue. If you weren't such a curious woman, you wouldn't give a single fuck, and you would only do your job, but... now, you were more than eager to have a proper conversation with that man.
At least a few words more.
"She broke her leg." you explained after an x-ray, to show him under the special light what were you talking about, when the results came in.
Usually, it wasn't so quick, but it was an emergency.
"It's not as bad as it seems to be, your cat will need a splint and a bandage."
He didn't say anything; just nodded, fucking again, still staring at orange cat that was lying on the table, with your assistant cooing to the animal.
You expected some questions, though. Anything.
"Questions?"
"Not really" he said, glancing at you.
"It will take a while. You can sit if you want" you pointed at the chair in the corner.
"I can stand."
So if he wanted to stand, he will stand, end of story for you – so, naturally, you just started to do your job with the kitty. It was a stray, obviously, so it wasn't an easy job with her writhing under your hands, but you managed, somehow.
"Do you want to register me as her vet?" you looked at him again.
Maybe it could finally be a proper subject of your conversation – not many people thought about that when they were taking under their wings a stray, so you had to offer. Especially when that kitty was just too cute not to ask.
"Will it be different than visiting you from time to time?" he asked, his arms crossing on his chest.
"I mean, yeah. I'm under the phone, basically 24/7, if you have questions, you call me. Vaccines, medicines, everything is under your hand. And since the little one knows me..." you trailed off, focusing more on that construction you worked on.
It seemed almost done.
"Right, we can do that, then" he muttered, coming a little closer to the table, to look at his cat. "I assume you need something? Contacts, I mean."
You chuckled, amused.
"Yeah, pretty much. Your phone number, your name, adress."
He frowned at that last mention and sighed, glancing over you again, like he was judging something before he actually will answer you.
Hell, what was that in him?
"Is adress necessary?"
"Not really, no."
You both went silent after this; as you finished, you sat to your computer to add another patient to your folder, where you kept everything in check. Meanwhile, Bernie was still occupied with the cat that was too sleepy to even respond, but the meds were kicking in, so it wasn't a surprise.
Rather, it was good. She needed some kind of rest.
"Name?" you looked at him.
"Simon Harris."
It felt like a lie, what he was telling you – especially his last name, but you didn't say anything about it.
"You have an idea for your cat's name? Or not yet?" you smiled softly.
"Not yet, no. And as for phone number..." he started searching for his phone in his cargo pants.
Took him a while, to go through the pockets, but when he finally managed to give it to you, you could finally save everything – the cat's name was just missing, but he needed to think about it.
You could think of multiple stories of people that came back to your clinic or called you to change the name in your documents, because they wanted something different. Mostly it was because the previous one wasn't a "good fit", but some were... funny ones, or weird enough that you didn't even bother to ask why.
Sometimes your curiosity got the best of you, especially when you asked why does he want his cat to be named "Pussy"; you regretted asking almost immediately, when he sat in the chair right in front of you. He talked for almost twenty minutes of his girlfriend and how he wanted to "give" her the cat with a name like that because it was funny enough.
And because of other things that you'd like to forget.
"Addison Frost. I run this clinic" you said, when he was saving your number in his phone. You could swear that he rolled his eyes, but it wasn't so clear as he wore that damn mask. What it was for anyway?
You wanted to see his face, badly.
"That much I figured" he muttered, his phone going to pocket of his cargo pants right now; he looked back at his cat, and at you again. "Can I buy something for her here? Or... I should go to the store?"
Hell, it was his probably longest sentence to you that day; and that made you smile a bit, when you reached out to the place you kept starter kits for kittens that needed to be taken care of more than the regular ones; you made a couple of them, and that was one of the last ones.
"No need to pay me for this" you said quickly, as he reached for his wallet. "It's... something that I give, just that" you muttered. "You can borrow that transporter too, until you won't buy your own. She needs to rest for the most of the time, and as she's a stray, she'll probably want to wander around your place."
He nodded, deep in thought, as you helped him with putting his cat into this; he was ready to leave, but before that, he dropped 90$ at your desk, leaving without any further explanation.
"Hey! That's way too much, I can't take something like that" you left after him, approaching him as he was already putting the transporter into his Jeep. "It's just a simple help, not an operation, or..."
"You helped her" he cut you off, looking straight into your eyes "and that's enough. If that's too much, don't charge me for another visit or so. I won't take it back." he said, getting into his car; still looking at you, he nodded slightly. "Thank you. And, goodnight."
And with that, Simon Harris left you with many thoughts about that evening.
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Emergency vet in Fairbanks, AK | Find Nearest Animal Hospital
Your nearest 24-hour emergency vet is in Fairbanks, AK. Quickly Find Chip Emergency Animal Hospital. Find Chip Emergency Animal Hospital quickly. Our team in Fairbanks makes it easy to find an emergency vet based on top customer ratings and reviews. Find the nearest Emergency Mobile Pet Hospital, Animal Hospital in Fairbanks, AK.
Mt. McKinley Animal Hospital
Rating 4.6 out of 442…
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AAAAA I HAVE AN IDEA OKAY can u pls do ghost with a veterinarian reader? Bonus points if she’s also a dog trainer that trained task force 141’s K-9 unit for them so all of the dogs love her and she gets scary dog privileges
thank you for requesting anon! loved researching the role of a veterinarian in the forces :) hope you enjoy reading!
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summary: Simon is the definition of providing "scary dog privileges" and he's happy to be dating the Army's veterinarian who has a soft spot for him and dogs.
pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!vet/dog trainer!Reader
warnings: swearing, mention of wounds/violence
a/n: omg did you know in pharmacy school we actually learn how to prepare and counsel pet owners! in one of my classes, i learned how to compound a cough syrup for a cat and an analgesic fur cream for a dog :)
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Your pleasant dreams were rudely interrupted by the obnoxious blare of your alarm. Rubbing your tired eyes, you groggily turned over. Despite your boyfriend being on a regimented schedule, you could never relate. “God you need to teach me your ways, Simon,” you said into your pillow, almost as if he was in the room. But as you got out of bed, you faced the disappointment that he was still on deployment. As you dressed for the day and fastened your hair into a bun, you tried to go over your agenda. The morning was filled with vet clinic planning and clinical meetings. You cringed at the thought. It was honestly the worst part of your day. After lunch, you had two patients to follow up with after some shrapnel wounds gained on the field. Just two German Shepherds who were always well obedient for you. You knew they’d be getting some treats today. Finally, your day ended with a combat fitness test. You had perfected this over the years and knew the handlers and canines were up to the challenge.
The morning had gone by slowly. You sipped your coffee as you exchanged ideas with the supply department and pharmacy. They were preparing for a month-long deployment and along with human patients, the pharmacy took care of the working dogs. After three hours of revising, you finally had a full plan and med list. You could feel your phone buzz but as you saw the examination room with a returning patient file on the door, you decided to look at it later. You took your time to examine the dog's coat and checked on the progress of her stitches. “She’s healing perfectly, private,” you smiled at her handler as you gave the canine a treat. She nodded before leading the dog out of the room. Just as you were about to check your phone, you ran into your other patient for the day. Hopefully it isn't something important, you thought to yourself as you gave a similar examination. With the final few sentences, you finished your charting for the day. You sighed contently but soon groaned at the gentle sound of your watch beeping. You closed your office door before running off to your final assignment for the day.
“Alright we’re done with combat PT for the week,” you commanded as your regiment of soldiers and canines relaxed. After two hours of running through the course and showing the basics of taking down an enemy, you felt like they were satisfactory for the time. This was one of your better commands and the dogs had performed beautifully. They would be ready in a matter of weeks, right on schedule. “Be sure to give your companions a treat before you return them home,” you said and the group dispersed. You stretched your tired limbs as you saw them walk back to base. “Just another day in the Veterinary Corps,” you sighed. You loved your job but you realized after a few years that it was more of a balance between training the working animals and their handlers along with the clinical side. You were in the middle of a 15-week-long session to prepare the dogs for the field and the handlers were giving you a headache.
You shielded your eyes from the fluorescent light as you entered the base. “Long day, Captain?” one of your techs asked and you nodded. “Only eight more weeks until I get my evenings back,” you smiled as you walked over to the office space. “I got a question for you,” he continued, smiling at you. “A few of us are going off base and–“ Before he could finish, he stopped in the middle of his sentence. His gaze turned down the hallway as you heard heavy footsteps approach. “Lieutenant Riley,” he said officially and you turned to see Simon approaching. You smiled at him as you heard your tech quickly wish you a goodnight. “You’d think he saw a ghost,” you joked as he walked up to you. Despite his balaclava, his eyes crinkled with a smile. He shrugged and you avoided the urge to reach up and kiss his cheek. “You don’t answer your phone,” he observed and you remembered the text from earlier. “Sorry, long day,” you said sheepishly and he nodded as if you provided a satisfactory response.
“Didn’t realize you were back so soon,” you said and returned his smile. “Me either,” he replied, “found out this morning.” That must have been him this morning. You muttered an apology and he waved a hand passively. “Anyways, I got a surprise for you,” he said, a hint of cheer in his voice. You raised an eyebrow curiously. “You? You have a surprise for me?” you said in disbelief, “Must be a special day.” Simon shook his head at your antics, letting out a chuckle. He motioned for you to follow him and you walked in step. You made casual conversation about your current group in training and the good visits from some of your patients. “You still give them treats after?” he asked, shooting a glance at you. “Still do,” you said cheerfully “not much has changed in 3 months, Simon.” “You spoil them,” he joked back, rubbing a hand along his sore jaw. Must’ve been one hell of a mission, you thought. You continued chatting until you heard the familiar padding of footprints on the base floor.
“Is that who I think it is?” you said excitedly and soon your favorite partner came running towards you. The handler, also a close friend, tried to wrangle him but Riley slipped out of his grasp. In a flash of tan and black fur, Riley rubbed his head against your leg. “Riles! You’ve gotten so big,” you cooed as you brushed through his coat. Despite being named Riley out of his litter, you loved the almost human-like nickname. You petted him affectionately, bending down to greet your longtime friend. “Heel, Riley,” Ghost commanded and Riley sat down obediently. “Oh stop it, Lieutenant,” you responded, hitting Simon’s thigh and encouraging Riley to come back into your embrace. As you showered Riley in love and belly rubs, you heard Simon tell the handler that he would make sure you returned Riley at the end of the night. The private nodded and continued to his own quarters.
“You have enough puppy time?” Simon joked and you shot a look at him. “It’s never enough with Riles over here,” you said happily, continuing to pet him. “Riley did a great job on the field, Price was impressed,” he complimented and you couldn’t help but beam at his words. “Well Price should know I train the best of the best,” you remarked as you looked back down at the wagging dog, “and he is one of the best.” After another fifteen of you playing around and Simon getting in some pets of his own, it was time to bring Riley to the kennel. He looked tired but happy as you walked through the base. You held the unlatched leash in your hand as Riley obediently walked in between you and Simon. “Always such a good boy,” you hummed as both you and Simon brushed his fur.
When you reached the kennel, you quietly opened Riley’s cage to not wake the other animals. He turned around a few times, trying to find the most comfortable position. “If you come by tomorrow, Laswell is considering bringing Riley and Apollo on our next mission,” Simon offered, putting a hand on your shoulder as Riley laid down to rest. You waved to her before you checked all of the dogs were returned and happy. “I’d like that,” you smiled into his touch as you walked out, “Do you know how long you’ll be gone this time?” “Probably 6 weeks max if we get the job done,” he said gruffly, averting his eyes from you. Even after years of familiarity, Simon always hesitated to talk about the job. You nodded and closed the kennel for the evening.
It was quiet as you walked back to your quarters.
“I won’t be leaving for another week,” he spoke up, voice echoing in the empty hallway. You turned to him with a smirk on your face. “Oh really?” you questioned, putting a hand on his cheek. His eyes flashed around but you laughed as it was late and the coast was most certainly clear. “I would enjoy some company, would you?” you flirted. Simon grunted but you were prepared to draw this out of him. “Hmm, what was that Lieutenant Riley?” you teased before he coughed out a sheepish “yes.” You teasingly beckoned him to follow you. He let out a dry laugh before following at your heels, just like a loyal companion.
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The Younger Kind Part 45 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley is loving his life at home. Skittles continues to fit right in while you inadvertently insist on nearly finding the one thing Bradley wants to keep hidden. A family day at the beach followed by a night alone with you are the only things he wants to focus on right now. It would be great if that's what he was allowed to do.
Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4000 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
It was late by the time Bradley got home with Skittles, and you were pretty tired after assisting with an emergency at work. But Noah must have heard him pull into the driveway as he called out, "Daddy's back!" in the middle of coloring a rainbow turtle. He was out of his seat and heading for the front door before you could stop him, but it didn't matter, because you were anxious to see Bradley, too.
When you rounded the corner, he was kneeling on the floor and collecting Noah in his arms, a light blue bakery box on the floor next to him. You were used to seeing him with one arm around Noah while he held Skittles, but right now he was looking up at you like you were the only thing in the room worth his attention. It was remarkable that he still made you feel this giddy.
"Hey, Baby," he rasped. "You had a good day? Your emergency patient doing okay?" Then he stood up with his arms full and leaned down to kiss your forehead. He was still in his uniform, tall and strong, holding everything you cared about against his chest.
"Yeah. I had a good day," you replied, somehow managing to squeeze your way between Noah and Skittles to give him a kiss on the neck while he chuckled.
"Me too. Skittles got a clean bill of health," he whispered, and you could hear his stomach growling. It had probably been seven or eight hours since he had lunch, so you bent to pick up the bakery box, already craving a donut.
"That's good. Come on," you coaxed, tucking your index finger inside the top of his pants and earning a raised eyebrow as you tugged him toward the kitchen. "We already ate, but I'll heat up some leftovers for you while the two of you color."
"Daddy, is Skittles your best friend?" Noah asked as you set the box on the counter and took a peek. You gasped, because it was filled with crown donuts. You looked at Bradley over your shoulder where he was now sitting with his son on his lap.
"I think technically either Mommy or Aunt Natasha is my best friend, Bub."
You smiled as Noah sternly said, "No. It's Skittles. Mommy and Aunts don't count."
"Right. My bad," Bradley replied as he fiddled with something in his pocket. When he met your eyes, you noticed his cheeks were a little flushed as you bit into one of the donuts. "I got you a whole dozen this time."
"I see that," you replied, setting it down again so you could heat up a plate of food. "Did you run into Casey?"
"I did not," he replied as Noah handed him a green crayon. "It was just Skittles and I running up the credit card bill. That animal clinic is expensive."
"I believe it," you replied, taking a bite of potato from his plate to make sure it was hot enough. You'd always wanted a dog, but according to your parents, everything to do with pets was too pricey. They wouldn't even let you have a goldfish when you were a kid.
You set Bradley's dinner in front of him before grabbing the container of ants on logs out of the refrigerator for Noah. You arranged them on a plate in a zigzag shape before giving them to him, and he had one in his mouth before the plate was all the way set down. When you turned to get your donut, Bradley reached out and wrapped his hand around your thigh, pulling you back to him.
"Princess," he whispered. "I love you."
He looked tired, and he was clearly in a bit of a soft mood. Maybe even sentimental. The way he called you his best friend a few minutes ago made you smile even now. But his dark eyes held so much devotion as he examined your face that you ran your fingers down along his cheek and let your forehead rest against his. You knew he was starving; you could still hear his stomach growling, but he made no move to release your leg to take a bite of his dinner. So you just stayed there, your lips brushing his every time you moved.
"I love you too, Daddy."
You grinned against his kiss as Noah crunched loudly on his carrot sticks. This was where you belonged. You could barely even remember the details of your tiny rental because of all of the richness of your home with Bradley. It was overpowering. Living with Bradley and Noah had a dreamlike quality that made everything better.
"You need to eat," you whispered, kissing Bradley one more time before returning to your donut.
-----------------------------
"I want Skittles to sleep in my bed!" Noah was practically crying, his cheeks bright red with frustration as Bradley tried to get him ready to go to sleep. He was overtired and cranky, and right now he was inconsolable. "You said after she got her cast off, she could sleep in my bed!"
"Noah," Bradley said in his softest tone as his son's arms flailed in his pajama shirt. "I said we can try, but we can't force Skittles to do things. Do you understand?"
But he just whined, "I want her to sleep in my bed!"
Bradley sighed where he sat in the middle of Noah's bedroom floor, the engagement ring still tucked in his khaki uniform pants pocket. He didn't know where to put it. He didn't even know exactly when he wanted to give it to you. But he desperately needed to get it stashed away somewhere before he just proposed to you tonight, because having it on his person was making him feel a certain way about you. Maybe it was a good thing that Noah was kind of killing the vibe.
"Just get in bed," Bradley told him. "If you get in bed right now, I'll bring Skittles in."
He watched Noah launch himself into his twin bed and pull the blankets up to his chin. The odds that the pup would stay in Noah's room even for a few minutes were pretty slim. You had her out in the backyard right now so she could go to the bathroom, but the little pooch was almost glued to Bradley's side whenever he was home.
As soon as you walked back inside in your cute little shorts and tank top set with Skittles at your feet, Bradley bent and scooped her up. "Noah is losing his mind. Wish me luck." He turned away from you with a smirk and kissed Skittles on her head. "If you stay in there until Noah falls asleep and long enough for me to fuck my Princess, I'll give you a treat."
You were cracking up in the kitchen as he walked away. "You're bargaining with the dog!" But he knew better. Skittles wasn't just a dog, she was his best friend after all.
Noah's eyes lit up in the soft glow from the nightlight when Bradley entered his bedroom with the pup. "She got used to her own bed, okay? So if she doesn't want to stay, we can't make her." But Noah's arms were outstretched, ready to hold his pet, and Bradley got her nestled in under the blankets next to his little body.
As the dog looked up at him, concern for her new sleeping arrangement in her puppy eyes, Bradley bent to kiss Noah on the forehead and Skittles next to her bow. "Try to go right to sleep," he whispered to Noah. "I'm serious."
He just giggled in response as the dog licked his face, and Bradley did not see this little experiment ending well as he exited the room. He patted his pants pocket just as he had been doing all night. It took all he had within him not to open up the box and check to make sure your ring was secure, and he still didn't know where to put it for safekeeping.
When he entered his bedroom, he abandoned the idea of finding a good hiding spot when he found you in the middle of the bed wearing your paper crown. You looked so young and impossibly innocent with your glossy lips and your pajama set, but your filthy words betrayed you. "I heard you wanted to fuck a Princess."
He ran his fingers through his hair and smirked as he stood next to the side of the bed while you crawled toward him. "I always want my Princess," he whispered as your lips hovered just inches away from his zipper. When you looked up at him, every trace of innocence was completely gone, and you leaned in until your lips met his tip through his khakis. "Baby," he moaned, but before you could get his zipper down, he reached for your hands.
"What's wrong?" you asked as he pulled you up so you were kneeling in front of him.
"Nothing's wrong. Everything is very right."
You smiled up at him as he kissed your lips softly. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, as plainly evidenced by the ring in his pocket right next to where your hand just settled. So as he guided your fingers up to his chest, he asked, "Do you want to go on a date with me?"
You laughed against his lips. "You're asking me on a date? We're already in a relationship."
Bradley's hands settled on your hips as he nipped along your jaw until his mouth was next to your ear. "Doesn't mean I can't ask you out. I got selected to fly in the air show, and I want you to be my date for the weekend."
"Really?" you gasped, your fingers tightening around his shirt buttons. "Noah and I get to watch you fly? And you and I can tour the children's hospital?"
"Mmhmm. I wasn't about to let you go with Jake. That man only has one thing on his mind when it comes to you."
"Oh yeah?" you asked, feigning pure innocence once again through your voice. "What does he have on his mind?" When Bradley responded by tucking his hand inside your tiny shorts and stroking your bare pussy, first you gasped, and then you laughed.
His touch remained soft and tentative as he slipped one finger down to tease your opening. "You see, he doesn't want you the way I want you."
"How do you want me?" you whimpered softly, kissing his lips.
"I want you with me for the rest of my life."
"Daddy!" you whined, kissing him desperately as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He knew nobody else had ever spoken to you the way he did, but he also knew he'd never been in love like this before. This time, when you reached for his zipper, he let you have him. His shirt and pants ended up on the floor along with your tiny pajamas, and you welcomed him into your tight pussy as you told him you loved him.
"I have everything," he groaned as he made love to you as you peppered kisses along his flushed cheeks. "You're everything."
After you came for him, Bradley let himself indulge in filling you up while thinking about your belly all swollen and pregnant, and you reached for him just as Skittle came trotting back into the bedroom. Your soft laughter as Bradley curled up behind you had him laughing, too.
"The dog will literally do anything you ask," you whispered as she walked across the room and turned three circles around her dog bed before plopping down. "She stayed in bed with Noah long enough for you to fuck me."
"Dogs are man's best friend for a reason, Princess."
You snuggled in his arms for a few minutes, fingers laced with his as you kissed his forearm. Just as Bradley was starting to doze off, you said, "I'll check on Noah before I get ready for bed." He squeezed you tight one time before releasing you and rolling onto his back to stretch. "Ow!" you gasped when you climbed out of bed. "Shit! I just stepped on something hard in your uniform pants."
His eyes went wide as you started to bend down to investigate, but he vaulted out of bed. "I'll take care of it," he practically yelled, and you dropped his pants. The ring box made a soft thud as it hit the floor, and you gave him a strange look.
"Okay," you replied, glancing at him one more time before pulling your pajamas on and heading out of the room.
"Fuck," Bradley grunted, picking up the pants and rooting around in the pocket until the box was in his hand. He turned away from the door and snapped it open, revealing the most perfect ring he had ever seen. He was already obsessed with imagining it on your finger. But he snapped it closed again quickly and ran for the dresser.
He could leave it with his undershirts, but when he opened that drawer, he realized you were in that one a lot, often borrowing from him. He opened the next drawer down, but it was filled with your cute underwear, so that definitely wouldn't work. He reached for the bottom drawer which was filled with his socks, but he heard you coming back down the hallway, so he dropped the box and kicked it shut.
"Aren't you going to get ready for bed?" you asked as you plugged your phone into the charger, still eyeing him a little cautiously. Bradley realized he was just awkwardly standing there naked in front of the dresser for seemingly no reason, so he was definitely going to have to move the ring later.
"Yeah," he agreed, grabbing some clean underwear and kissing you as he walked past. "Getting ready for bed."
--------------------------
On Thursday, Bradley let you know that everyone was insisting on a beach day on Saturday, but when you texted Natasha about what kind of bathing suit she was planning on wearing, she claimed she might not even go.
"Well I don't know if I want to go if Nat isn't going," you complained to Bradley while you made dinner. "I don't want to be the only female there. In a bathing suit. That would be weird."
"She's going," Bradley said with an eye roll. "She's just being difficult, because she's trying to pretend nothing is going on with Javy. Besides, I'm not going unless you're going." He took the spoon you were holding out of your hand and spun you around to face him. "I don't want to go anywhere without my Princess."
You let him kiss you and slip his hands underneath your top, trying not to moan as his calloused hands danced softly along your skin. When his lips skimmed along your cheek, you whispered, "You just want me there to help you walk safely across the uneven rocks and sand." You bit your lip as he eased his face away from yours to give you a cautionary look. So of course you immediately added, "Because you're such an old man."
One big hand slipped down and softly spanked you on the butt as you laughed. "Old or not, I can still get the job done. And that includes walking across the beach."
"Sure, Daddy. But I'll go, too. Just in case."
"Thank you. Now if you think you can be nice for a minute, I have something to tell you."
"I can be very nice," you said, kissing him on the tip of his nose before spinning around to check on dinner.
Bradley patted you on the butt before reaching into the refrigerator to get two beers out. "Penny offered to take Noah home after the beach and keep him for the night."
As he opened both bottles, your gaze drifted to where Noah was sitting on the kitchen floor, building blocks while Skittles basked in the last rays of the setting sun. You licked your lips as you watched Bradley press his mouth to his beer and take a long drink, the bob of his Adam's apple capturing your attention. "We'd have the house to ourselves for the night?"
He winked at you as he set his beer on the counter and pressed the other one into your hand. "Just you and me," he rasped, pecking your cheek. "And I can think of a few fun ways to pass the time."
Then he was on the floor with Noah, and Skittles was in his lap, but he kept shooting you his smug smile that you liked so much.
On Friday night, after Noah was in bed, you started to get things packed up for the following day. "Why do we need so much stuff to go anywhere?" you mused out loud as you found sunblock and beach towels.
"Oh, hell no," Bradley said, taking you by the hips and pulling you away from the tote bag you were packing. "First of all, you used to bring your textbooks over in that bag when you were babysitting, so it gives me an instant boner." You erupted into laughter as he held you against his chest. "But second, you drastically over packed when we went to the lakehouse."
You looked up at him over your shoulder. "I know," you whispered. "But I want Noah to have anything he might need or want. And you know how my parents were." You didn't like talking about them. They never understood you when you were a child, and that's why you'd moved out as soon as you could. They were also the reason you had a hard time spending Bradley's money even though he wanted you to be comfortable.
"I know, Baby," Bradley crooned, and you melted back against him. "I love how much you love Noah. And I hate that you never got to do anything or ask for anything when you were his age, but there's no need to go overboard for a beach day."
You nodded. "Well then why don't you help me pack?"
"I'd be happy to."
But you and Bradley spent more time kissing and laughing softly than anything else. His hands were all over you, just pulling you closer and trying to keep you there. "Let's go to bed," he whined for the third time, convinced you'd packed everything the three of you could possibly need. "I want to cuddle with you."
You nearly shrieked as he picked you up, leaving the pile of gear for the beach next to the front door, and carried you back to the bedroom. "Oh, you want to cuddle?"
He hummed and nodded against your shoulder. "Yeah. Let's save all the nasty shit for when we're home alone tomorrow night." Butterflies erupted in your belly as he set you down on the bed and climbed in next to you. "Let's cuddle."
You were wrapped up tight in his arms, Bradley's soft, even breaths tickling your neck as he whispered that he loved you. This was perhaps the safest you'd ever felt in your life. Nobody was going to hurt you here. Not now. Bradley would take care of that. And you would take care of him.
As you snuggled in to go to sleep, your eyes caught on the items lined up on the dresser. "What's all of that out for?" you asked softly.
"Huh?" Bradley grunted, probably already part way asleep. But you propped yourself up on your elbow and looked at the purple USB drive, a pile of your underwear, your purple plug, your paper crown, and the bottle of lube. All sitting in a tidy row.
"On the dresser, Bradley."
"Oh," he said with a chuckle as he pulled you down flat again. "I started packing for the weekend, too. So to speak."
-------------------------
Bradley grunted, trying his best not to let you see how awkwardly he was walking across the sand. Not after you made the claim that he'd need you to hold his hand and guide him. You and Noah pranced ahead of him, but he was stuck carrying two bags, a cooler, an umbrella and a beach chair. And the temperature of the sand was roughly that of the surface of the sun.
"Fuck," he growled as the sand rushed into his flip flops and his aviators slid down his nose. How you were managing was literally beyond him. He just wanted to get this afternoon over with and get you back home and into bed. He had some plans for you, all of which were becoming more explicit by the moment as he watched your ass swaying in your purple bikini bottoms.
Literally the last thing he needed right now was to become aroused, so he just pushed your delicious looking rear end from his mind. Apparently you found the perfect spot, because you finally stopped and turned around to look for him. Then you laughed and left Noah with Nat while you made your way back to him.
"This sand is fucking hot," he complained before you could say anything at all.
You took one of the bags and the umbrella from him as you said, "It's August, Daddy. Of course the sand is hot. Do you need me to help you along? Or, I could run back to the Bronco and get your walker?" You started to turn in the direction of the parking lot with an innocent look on your face.
"You're really looking to get it tonight, aren't you?" Bradley replied, dumping everything next to where Noah was burying Nat's legs in the sand. You looked so pleased with yourself, and he thought about the ring that he had moved to the pocket of his dress whites that he'd picked up from the dry cleaner. They were hanging in the back of the closet, and he figured you'd have no reason to look there. Before you could run off, he pulled you in for a tight hug and said, "Stay out of trouble. Be a good girl. And I'll give you anything you want later."
Your lips met his ear, nudging his aviators crooked. "I love you." His fingers skimmed your skimpy bathing suit bottom as you joined Noah who had Nat covered to her thighs.
Javy was trying his best to casually toss a football around with Mickey and Mav, but he couldn't keep his eyes to himself. It was a good thing Bradley was absolutely convinced he was looking at Nat and not you, otherwise he'd have a problem. He left you next to the pile of everything you packed, intending to simply join the little football scrimmage that was going on, but then he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, that's really nice, Bradshaw," Jake drawled. "You brought the family today. The little ball and chain, and the big ball and chain."
Bradley hooked his sunglasses with his index finger and dragged them roughly down his nose. "Funny," he said without emotion. "But you weren't calling her a ball and chain back in April when you tried to hook up with her in my kitchen."
Jake hooted with laughter, and it made Bradley's skin crawl. He was such a dick most of the time, and it was always intentional. "There's a difference between hitting a tight pussy and inviting it to live with you. I know the difference. You don't seem to. I'm surprised you didn't bring your dog along, too."
Bradley snapped. "What the fuck is your problem, man?"
Jake met his gaze, and Bradley was reminded without a doubt that Jake would love to get inside your little bikini bottoms just to say he could. "I don't have a problem, but it looks like you do." He jerked his chin toward the volleyball nets, and Bradley turned to investigate. You were standing there, holding hands with Noah while you talked to a guy with blond hair. Upon further inspection, Bradley realized it was your ex boyfriend, Greyson.
--------------------------
Well, well, well. We actually hate you, Grey. If Daddy and Princess can manage to make it to their sexy night home alone, what would you like to read about? And I really hope that ring is well hidden until Daddy comes up with a plan. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 46
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Male fox spirit x female reader (nsfw)
Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.
___
Commission #4 in the list of 5! Thank you for trusting me with your prompt: female reader saves a dying fox on her way home from work, who turns out to be a fox spirit. I hope you like it!
Contents: Fox suffers a spinal injury when hit by a car (not the reader’s); there’s some magic; some domestic fluff; oral sex, fingering, him coming on her; and a sweet, fluffy ending.
Wordcount: 4400
Driving rain greeted you full in the face as you shoved open the main doors of the building and burrowed down into your coat, drawing the hood tight around your head in a vain attempt to keep the weather out. Nights like this — cold, damp, and at the tail end of winter before Spring took a proper hold on the land — were truly miserable.
Your fingers were half frozen by the time you had fumbled the keys out of your pocket and clambered into your car, and you fired the old thing up with a hopeful grimace that it would start. It coughed to life and you uttered a little prayer of thanks to whichever gods or spirits out there might be listening. “Now if only you could do something about my pathetic love life as well,” you said to yourself as you reversed out of the parking space and headed towards the main road. “Wouldn’t that be perfect?”
Half an hour outside of town, your headlights flashed over something lying on the side of the road, sprawled halfway across the white line, and you swerved instinctively to avoid it. Mercifully there was nothing coming in the other direction, or you’d have caused a serious accident. Adrenaline spiked through you and you slammed on the brakes.
The flash of golden-red you’d glimpsed had told you it was a fox, but it had had its head raised and it had been looking at you with its eyes flaring yellow in the headlights, but the expression on its face had struck you to the core. It had looked… resigned. Like it knew you were going to hit it. Like it knew it was going to die.
“No,” you said through gritted teeth.
You had some old work gloves in the back of the car from when you’d taken a load of stuff from the garden to the dump a week before, so you put your hazards on and slid out of the driver’s side door and into the worsening storm. You cursed softly, squinting amid the stinging rain as it struck your face like little iron nails in the gusty night. You cleared a space in the trunk for the fox, spreading an old picnic blanket out and grabbing those thick leather gloves. No need to get rabies if the thing bit you before you could get it to an animal clinic in the morning.
You knew it was a stupid thing to do, that cars hit wildlife all the time, and you really weren’t equipped to deal with it, but you couldn’t just leave it there when it had looked so sad; black ears drooping, eyes wide, mouth slightly open.
Making your way along the edge of the deserted road with only your phone torch to light the way, you found the spot where the fox was still lying on the asphalt, and crooned softly to it. “Hey there,” you said, feeling a bit silly. “It’s ok. I’m not going to hurt you. It’s alright. Let me help you out… Let me take you home and see if I can take you to a vet in the morning…”
When your light found its back legs though, your heart sank. They lay limp and slightly twisted to one side. Its back had been broken by the impact with a vehicle.
“Oh baby,” you said, fighting sudden tears. “It’s going to be ok…” you lied.
Was it like with humans? Should it not be moved with a spinal injury? It would probably die anyway, or they’d recommend putting it down. You could at least take it in and keep it warm for its last few hours. When you knelt nearby, it just laid its cheek down on the cold tarmac, defeated, and let out a long, broken whimper.
“I’m going to pick you up, ok? Please don’t bite me. God, this is such a stupid thing to do…”
The fox licked its shiny black nose and just blinked slowly at you.
When it made no move to attack you or snap at you when you got nearer, you scooped it up and marvelled at how light it felt in your arms, its lovely, russet fur damp and matted.
“There,” you said, cradling it in your arms as you carried it back to your car. ‘Him’, not ‘it’, you saw when you set him down on the blanket and stroked his head and neck. He murmured softly, the sound almost a purr, and you swallowed thickly. He was so weak, you wondered if he’d even survive the journey home.
Five cars overtook you as you drove on after that, all beeping and honking their horns and flashing their lights to get you to go faster, but you absolutely would not be bullied into making this last car ride hell for the little, injured fox.
It didn’t take very long to set up a cosy den of blankets and towels in the kitchen by the radiator, and when you were satisfied that it was as comfortable as you could make it — and that any mess would be contained in an area with tile floors — you went back for him. He was still lying on his side, exactly as you’d left him, but his eyes seemed brighter and more focused, and his ears pricked up when you opened the trunk up and gazed down at him.
“Alright?” you asked and he gave a soft snuffle that was half-sneeze and half-chuckle. “You’re awfully perky for someone who’s just gone head-to-head with fast-moving traffic, buddy,” you smiled. “Maybe you will be alright. Ready to go inside?”
You had your gloves on but it didn’t feel like you really needed them, and when you settled him down on the veritable blanket fort inside, he heaved a great sigh and nuzzled his cheek against the fabric with a rumbling moan of contentment.
“You hungry?” you asked. “I don’t have much that’s fox-friendly, but I think there’s some ham in the fridge. Let me check.”
You offered him a saucer of water first, holding his delicate head up as he lapped steadily at it until he’d had his fill, and then you fed him little slivers of cooked ham which he took from your fingers like an absolute gentleman. “Aren't you dainty,” you chuckled as his small, sharp teeth pulled the next piece carefully free of your gloved hand.
He fixed you with such a flat, patronising look that you had to laugh.
The fox flicked an ear and looked away.
“Oh I’m sorry,” you said in a baby voice. “Don’t be grumpy with me, you precious thing… Here, have some more…”
He sneezed, then looked back at you and opened his mouth, head tipped back like a baby bird awaiting a worm.
“You’re not going to take it? You want me to feed you?”
He just stared at you without moving.
“Fine, your highness,” you said. “Anything for you.”
You let the piece drop into his tilted jaws, and then chucked him affectionately under the chin with your finger after he’d chewed and swallowed it.
He caught the leather of the glove’s fingertip in his teeth in a move that was so fast you didn’t even see it, but then tugged gently, insistently.
“I’m not taking this off,” you frowned. “You could have rabies for all I know.”
A tiny, rattling growl, like the world’s tiniest chainsaw, rumbled out of him and he folded his ears back indignantly before pulling on the glove again. Then he let go, his ears pricked about as far forward as he could get them, and he stared expectantly at you.
“No way, friend,” you said, and stood to put the empty ham packet in the rubbish bin.
With your back to the kitchen window, a golden light flooded the room, and for a wild moment, you thought someone was driving straight at the house, headlights blazing. When you whipped around though, you froze. The light was coming from… from the fox.
“The fuck…?”
Your heartbeat started to race, and you weren’t sure if the ringing sound was coming from your own blood pounding in your ears or from something else in the room. The brightness reached such an intense crescendo that you had to look away, shielding your eyes with the crook of your arm until the chiming noise stopped and you lowered it cautiously back down, blinking.
There, standing in the centre of the room, was a man.
You took a step back, fear crashing in on your senses.
You looked around for something you could use as a weapon, but a warm, gentle voice said, “Wait, I won’t hurt you. I swear it.”
Again, you went still, and after taking a steadying breath, you turned to face him again, wide eyed and shaking. “What the hell?”
“Not hell,” he smiled, and you saw that he had warm, tan skin and dark, golden eyes. His hair was a russet colour, and it fell in soft waves around his ears to the nape of his neck. He was slender, not especially tall, and he was quite possibly the most beautiful human being you’d ever laid eyes on. Except… there was still a kind of glow around him, like an aura, and his clothes looked like they belonged at a Ren Faire or something, though the dark green, belted and embroidered tunic was finely tailored and his dark brown boots looked soft and well worn. Tiny points of light, like fireflies, twisted slowly through the air surrounding him before vanishing into a miniature, glittering starburst.
“You’re not human,” you said, despite how crazy it sounded.
“No,” the man replied with a smile. “No, I’m not. But you didn’t know that when you took in an injured fox and cared for him.”
“You’re the fox,” you blurted without thinking.
“I am. Sort of,” he smiled, and you saw that he had perfect, white teeth, with slightly more pointed canines than humans usually did. “I’m a fox spirit. There are all sorts of us, and we’re known by many names all over the world, but the most famous is probably the ‘kitsune’ thanks to modern media.”
“Oh,” you said, only half aware that your vision was darkening around the edges until it was too late. The blood roared again in your ears and your knees went out from under you. The last thing you saw was a flicker of a frown on the man’s — kitsune’s — face before he lunged towards you with hands outstretched, and the world went black.
You stirred and found yourself lying on the sofa in your sitting room, with your feet raised about a foot or so off the seat cushion, and a stranger in green standing over you, holding your legs up by the ankle. The kitsune. The fox spirit.
“Got to say, that’s the first time someone’s actually fainted because of me,” he said with a smile, lowering your legs back down and stepping back. “Are you alright?”
“I fainted?” you asked stupidly, pushing yourself upright and swinging your legs slowly off the sofa and onto the ground. You swayed a little, but didn’t pass out again.
The fox spirit nodded, his lovely hair shining with strands of bronze and copper in the low light of the room, gold eyes glowing as if back-lit. “Thank you for saving me,” he said in a quiet, earnest baritone.
“Did I, though?” you asked, staring openly at him. “I mean… you’re… magic, right? I saw the way your legs were just… Your back was broken…”
“If you’d hit me with your car, or simply left me there for the next driver to do the same, then I wouldn’t have survived. We’re tough, and our magic can heal most things, but not that.”
“Oh.” And then your cheeks went hot and you looked at the carpet, “I’m sorry I baby-talked you like you were an actual animal.”
He laughed; a beautiful, bright sound like dry autumn leaves in clear sunlight. His head tipped a little way back and he looked truly delighted. “You weren’t to know,” he said, still chuckling. “And you’re not the first.”
“Oh,” you said, like a broken record.
From where he stood nearby, the fox spirit smiled at you and then inhaled deeply. “I… should go,” he said, his golden eyes turning a little sad. “Let you return to your life…”
“Wait,” you called from the sofa as he turned away. “What’s your name?”
He cast you a look over his shoulder and the smile he gave you was wry and amused. “You may call me Rowe.”
There was a nuance there that you weren’t understanding, but you told him your name in return, and he inhaled suddenly as if you’d struck him.
“You would part with your name so carelessly?” he whispered, brows pulling together into a frown of utter confusion. “You…” and then his expression cleared and his shoulders dropped. “You have never had dealings with the fae, have you?”
“The… fae?” you stuttered. “Like… fairies?”
The smile that replaced the frown was patient and amused in equal parts, and he sighed and shook his head. “Well, here’s your first lesson. Never tell your true name to a fae.”
Again, all the sound that escaped you was a dull, “Oh.”
He exhaled and approached you, and you tried not to lean back, to lean away from him. This whole night had gone from bad to utterly bizarre in the blink of an eye and you felt a little sick from the whiplash.
To make matters all the more confusing, the strange man knelt before you, sweeping his long, otherworldly tunic out of the way as he sank down onto one knee like he was going to propose or something, and he bowed his auburn head. “You saved my life without thought of debt or repayment, and in recognition of the gift, I give one of my own. I bind your True Name to my heart and hold it there in silence. I may never speak your True Name aloud unless you give me leave so to do. This I swear upon my spirit and my magic and my own True Name.”
The air in the room prickled like static and you had to fight the urge to see if your hair was standing on end. Goosebumps flickered along your arms and legs, and you drew in a shallow breath. “Anything else I should know about?” you asked faintly.
He looked up at you and shrugged. “We’re allergic to iron,” he suggested. “And we’re overly fond of cream and sweet cakes…”
“Sweet cakes,” you repeated thoughtfully, eyes drifting towards the kitchen where you’d bought a strawberry sponge cake just the day before, and an idea half-formed in your head.
Rowe smiled and your heart slipped sideways in your chest for a moment. He was so beautiful it was almost hard to believe he was really there and really standing in front of you. Well, technically he was kneeling like a knight in a fairytale. Fairytale indeed, you thought.
“You don’t have to go,” you whispered.
You were afraid of sounding childish, that if you spoke too loudly, he would think you desperate and would laugh at you, but all he did was tilt his head to the side the way he had done as a fox, and he nodded once. “Alright,” he said.
“I mean, don’t feel like you have to stay either,” you babbled, making a rather pathetic, flapping gesture in front of you with your hands. “I just meant… you’re welcome to stay if you want to. I was going to cook some dinner and watch a movie… eat cake for dessert. I thought… I thought since you’ve had kind of a rough day, you might like to just… chill out with me for a while.”
“May I help you cook?”
“If you… If you’d like to?” you said, standing carefully and holding your hand out to him to encourage him up off the floor.
He slid his warm fingers into your palm, and got to his feet with the grace of a prince, and offered you another smile. “I’d like that very much.”
Rowe stayed with you for a week. You explained that you had to go to work or you’d get fired, and when you came back on the first day, you expected him to have gone, leaving you wondering if the whole thing hadn’t been a hallucination brought on by the combination of a stressful week of work and the awful weather. But no, Rowe was there that evening, curled up as a fox on the impromptu bed you’d made by the radiator while the rain hurled itself at the window pane above him.
“Rowe, you don’t have to sleep on that!” you gasped, dropping your bag by the door and making him startle awake, ears pricked, tail fluffed up in rather adorable alarm.
In a flash of gold light, he was human again, standing beside the bed and smiling at you. “I don’t mind,” he chuckled. “It’s comfortable, and when I’m a fox, I don’t think in quite the same way as I do when I’m in this form. That’s how I got hit by the car in the first place… Please, don’t fret.”
You scowled at him, but relented, and asked him about his day. It seemed he’d spent most of it in his fox form, either out and about in the woods near your house, or sleeping by the warmth of the radiator.
“Didn’t you get bored here?” you asked.
“I could have done the housework for you,” he smirked. “But I thought that might have been an intrusion on your privacy.”
You laughed. “Thanks?”
After three days of sharing your space with him — he sleeping contentedly as a fox on the pile of blankets and you upstairs in your bedroom — you cleared your throat that evening as you sat together on the sofa like old friends, and said, “You know… uh… I… I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to come upstairs with me… I don’t want you to feel like you have to sleep down here like you’re a…” you trailed off, flushing hot with awkward embarrassment.
One russet-brown eyebrow climbed a little higher than the other. “… a what?”
“Like you’re some kind of pet… you know…”
Rowe laughed and, as it always did, your heart skipped a beat. His cheeks dimpled and Adam’s apple danced in his exposed throat and you ached. It felt like a long time since someone had touched you; since you’d been held, let alone kissed. He had a beautiful mouth, like he’d been made just to tempt you.
Some of your thoughts must have shown on your face because the laughter died in his throat and he fixed you with a look that was all concern. He murmured the name you’d given him permission to use when it was just the two of you and asked, “What’s wrong? I’m not upset about the animal comment,” he said, reaching for your forearm and trying to reassure you, but you shook your head. “Then what?”
Tears came unbidden to your eyes and you turned away. His hand felt hot through the fabric of your hoodie, but his grip was feather light. It would take nothing at all to pull yourself free, but the thought of it seemed overwhelming. “It’s nothing,” you choked, pressing your lips together and hoping he’d let the matter drop.
He didn’t. His eyes flared bright gold and he scowled at you when you risked a glance at him. “The fae can always taste a lie,” he said with the slightest growl to his voice. “And I can tell you’re hurting. We were laughing, and then… you weren’t. What changed?”
“It’s —”
A short, animal growl echoed in his throat but he bit it back, shut his mouth with a click of teeth, and glared at you.
“Ugh, fine,” you huffed, standing up and pacing across the room. “It’s been a long time since it’s been this easy around someone, ok? And it’s not every day that a handsome, cute guy with a great sense of humour shows genuine interest in me. I just wished, for like half a second, that you might be interested in me, but I get it. You’re not even human. I was nice to you. You probably feel obliged to stay here. You… You should probably go soon anyway.”
His expression turned from concerned to carefully neutral, and he stood. “If that’s the way you feel,” he said, “Then I can leave. But you should know that I’ve had a wonderful time with you, and…” he swallowed and took a breath, “I think you’re beautiful, through and through.”
“Please,” you scoffed. “Don’t bother trying to spare my feelings.”
“We can taste a lie, but we cannot tell one,” he said evenly. “I could not tell you that your clothes are yellow when they are not, nor that the sky is green, nor that you are not beautiful.”
You turned slowly around to look at him, and found him glowing gold again, those points of light spiralling lazily in the air around him. The slight shape of fox ears seemed to be picked out in two, brighter lines above his copper hair and behind him you saw a golden tail swaying back and forth. His eyes blazed bright like burnished bronze, and he was staring directly at you as he spoke.
“Oh.”
“I would very much like to stay with you, and share your bed, and, if you would let me, I would bring you pleasure too.”
Your breath hitched and you licked your lips. He even spoke like he was out of a fairytale. “You mean it?”
“Yes.”
“Ok,” you smiled.
Together, you tidied up the sitting room, and he followed you upstairs, still glowing softly, as if he were utterly contented and couldn’t help it.
Rowe undressed with you in your bedroom, baring a body like polished bronze; all lean lines and languid muscle, and you almost couldn’t look away. He asked if he could shower with you, and gently washed you and touched you, cupping your breasts and trailing his hands down your sides with reverent care. He passed his thumbs over your hardened nipples and kneaded your breasts until you gasped and tipped your head back, eyes closed. He teased between your legs with his fingertips, and then when you turned the shower off, he kissed your forehead. In a rush of magic, both your bodies were completely dry and your skin glowed softly with a thousand, dewy, golden sparkles. You beamed up at him, and he kissed you.
When he drew back, he led you by the hand into the bedroom and you lay down on the bed, heart racing. He knelt between your parted knees and you stared openly at his beautiful body. He looked like a statue come to life, and his cock had been more than half-hard ever since the shower, even as he turned his attention wholly on you and skimmed his palms up your thighs. You parted your legs a little wider for him and he bowed forward to kiss along your inner thigh until you shivered and lay back on the pillow behind you with a gasp.
He kissed you and tasted you, moaning softly before letting his tongue sweep up over you. He took your sensitive clit between his lips and kissed you there as well, and then he slid his arms under your thighs, lay down on his front, and you lost yourself to the pleasure of his mouth.
You lost count of how many times he made you come that night, with his tongue and with his fingers, but he never asked for more than you were ready to give.
“Come on me,” you murmured. You had no idea how well your current contraception would withstand a magical fae, but you were pretty sure you were safe with that, and when you asked, he nodded.
His fingers were slick from where he’d made you come, again, and he closed his hand around his cock with a low groan that dissolved into a gasp as he brought himself to the brink. He glowed gold again and you saw those ears made of light and the tail gleaming vividly behind him just as he spilled over your stomach with a muted grunt and another beautiful moan.
The golden light suffused the room, and you watched his expression as he came — open and vulnerable and achingly beautiful — and wished more than anything that he would stay.
When you woke in the morning, you expected to wake alone, but the warm pressure of Rowe’s body pressed against your back and the weight of his arm across your waist drew a little inhale of surprise from you. Apparently that was enough to wake him, because he kissed the back of your head and mumbled a sleepy good morning into your hair.
He was hard too, you realised, and you deliberately rocked your hips back against him.
Rowe let out a grunt and his hand shifted to your hips, drawing himself closer to you with a languid, answering roll of his hips.
“I don’t know if the fae have weekends,” you said, “But today is Saturday. I don’t have to go in to work…”
“Good,” he said. “I’m not sure I could let you go anywhere today after last night.” He said it with a laugh that told you he would let you do anything you liked, and you rolled over to face him. The softness in his smile brought one of your own to your lips, and he slid his hand down over your breast and then down between your legs.
Your eyes fluttered closed as he slipped his fingers easily inside you, and you rolled onto your back as he started a rhythm that would end in the kind of pleasure you had only ever dreamed of before him.
He smiled and kissed your cheek without his fingers once faltering, and whispered in your ear, “I’ll stay with you as long as you want me.”
You gasped and bucked, and almost missed his promise.
“I’ll stay with you forever.”
__
Thanks for reading this story, and I hope you’ll consider reblogging it (as well as leaving a like) if you enjoyed it, since that will help others find it.
Take care, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.
Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar) | Library/Story Archive Blog
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Oops! All Updates (and Fixes)!
I've got a bunch of fixes and updates to some of my older mods and I decided to release them all in a batch. Please read below for the details to see what has been changed and then links to the files to redownload and replace in your game.
If this is your first time downloading, obviously you'll need to download everything and you should read the original post for more information.
As always, let me know if any issues and enjoy!
Voidcritters Mod
Fixed Read Card Stats animation
Added a new interaction to allow your sims to talk about and compare their cards. Sims will build relationship, gain skill and train their critters a little as well (the cards will vibrate as the critters train up)
Giving a rare or limited edition card to another Sim will yield a higher relationship boost.
Previously there was no way to get all 22 cards in the game as you only get one of the two Limited Edition cards. I've fixed that by adding the chance to also get Limited Edition cards by reading a Voidcritters comic book. There's a 25% chance if you have less than level 8 skill and 45% if 8 or higher.
Now that Sims can collect all cards, I've added a new skill opportunity. Sims that collect all the cards will get the Critter Collector reward and going forward their cards will be worth more.
Download MAIN file here and updated card file here
Student Council Mod
The Collect Signatures interaction now has a more appropriate animation of a sim collecting signatures
Increased the chances that more inactive council members will autonomously raise funds and collect signatures
The campaign tracker will no longer show blank information after you've closed out and restarted the game
All campaign icons will now show up in the notifications
Fixed an issue where the Sim would reset when submitting signatures for the Teacher Pay school campaign
Reduced the skilling level for council roles while at the afterschool activity
Download updated MAIN here
Hang Out Mod
Children and teens can now hang out in groups. Simply click on one of the two Sims hanging out and select “Hang Out with X and his/her friends” (you need to have LTR 30 or higher)
A child or a teen hanging out can also invite another friend to join them
I think you can have up to 8 Sims given that I have 7 in the photo and there's still room.
Added liking VFX and speech bubbles when hanging out
Download here (all ages version here)
Washer+Dryer Combo
I created a new mesh for the washer/dryer so it slots under the counter like dishwashers and trash compactors.
Added a stacked washer/dryer tower. This still uses the same script as the single appliance so you can’t run the washer and the dryer at the same time.
Changed out the pod and detergent box meshes
Important: If you have the old version, you need to replace with this or remove it. You can't have both the old version and this one in your game or it will CTD. Also, the script is in the Combo file so you still need to download both if you only want the stacked tower version.
Download here (stacked version here)
Private Clinic (BASE)
The clinic controller will now push Sims that have certain traits as well, such as Neurotic, Commitment Issues, Insane, Hotheaded, etc.
Once pushed to the clinic, Sims will find a chair to sit in and then wait for an hour to be seen by a doctor. After an hour, they will stop waiting with an annoyed message (you can still see them though).
Waiting patients now identified with a custom headline effect
Prenatal vitamins no longer have a weight loss effect (as I'm putting a similar feature in the breastfeeding aspect of the obgym module, it's not needed here)
Updated the Buy and Sell Pills animations
Updated the comically large horsepill mesh to make it smaller and more realistic. The animation has been updated as well
Updated the write prescription animation
Updated the apply ointment animation
Download updated MAIN here
Private Clinic - Psychiatry
Updated the therapist session animations – therapist will now take more notes to jot down how crazy you are
Updated the patient records layout to avoid text overflow
Sims can now do their coping mechanisms (breathing exercises and mindfulness) while sitting
Important: You need to download the updated Private Clinic MAIN file above as well if you download this
Download updated MAIN here
Disclaimer: My CAS cc for this world was not loaded. I am not responsible for any of these Sims' outfit choices.
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Monsters in the Dark | Nikto x Reader | Part 1
First "official" part of Nikto x Reader fic set in the cowboy AU originally created by @ghouljams once again staring our darling Sputnik. Makes a lot more sense if you read the prologue which can be found linked below.
A/N: Did I spend several hours watching Kevin Richardson videos with him hanging out with his hyenas while writing this? Yes. Do I regret it? Absolutely not. This also ended up a lot longer than I was expecting lmao.
Warnings: Depictions of Minor Medical Procedures.
Masterlist: CoD Masterlist
Prev Part | Next Part
When working as a rural vet there’s a surprising amount of driving involved. Travelling from the clinic to farms and huge properties miles and miles away for in-person appointments and consultations can understandably take several hours out of your day. Most of the time you don’t even have working cell service to help guide you to your destination and you’re forced to either memorise the route beforehand or turn to your old reliable map.
You’re new to the area, having decided to spend some time travelling across the US for the potential experience it could offer you. You’ve done plenty of work on stations in the north of Australia, helping jackaroos to manage any illness within their herds, always moving from place to place, and so Texas seemed like the perfect place to start your travels.
While training, however, you had been given an offer to travel to South Africa to work with the numerous wildlife there both on reserves and in zoos. It was the best year of your life and ignited a passion for working with exotic animals.
Travelling the US for work was an exciting opportunity to help rural communities with their livestock and to work with the numerous native species you’ve never had the chance to encounter in your everyday life. This little town was just another step on your travels and, so far, hadn’t really stood out to you more than any other small town.
So, it isn’t out of place for you to be driving down a lengthy driveway through the woods and pulling up to a rundown old house. What is strange, is the huge creature sitting at the top of the porch.
The hyena is massive. It’s powerfully built with pure muscle, and no doubt would be able to tear you to pieces if it chose to. It’s so distracting that for a long time you don’t even notice the huge man standing beside your car. He looks just as strong as the hyena sitting behind him and you’re not sure how you missed his approach.
When the lady at the front desk informed you that there was a gentleman asking for a veterinarian with experience handling exotics, you were thinking perhaps a rare lizard, or an uncommon species of parrot. What you weren’t expecting was to see an adult hyena staring you down.
You’re more than a little reluctant to leave the safety of the vehicle, but upon receiving a jerk of the head from the man, you cautiously exit the car. Not once do you take your eyes off the predator while you quickly grab your bag from the backseat.
Having dealt with hyenas before, you know better than to show any kind of fear, forcing your shoulders down from your ears and starting to take calm, deep breaths. You offer your name to who you presume is the animal’s owner and hold out a hand for him to shake.
The man, “Nikto,” as he grunts to you, takes your hand after a moment and gives it a firm shake. You’re used to farmers having a strong grip, so you simply offer the man a bright grin. “I take it this is the patient?” you ask, nodding your head toward the hyena in question.
The man is clad head to toe in all-black clothing. Typical cowboy hat, black denim jeans, and a shirt that has a high collar and sleeves that reach all the way down to his wrists where they meet with a pair of leather gloves. All regular clothing, albeit a little dark for such a hot climate, but what really sets him apart is the dark neck gaiter covering most of his features.
You would think it odd for him to be hiding his face on his own property, but you’ve heard that there’s several other ex-military men in the town that also prefer bandanas or masks to showing their bare faces. It looks intimidating, especially given just how huge the guy is, but at the end of the day he’s your client and it isn’t your place to judge.
“да,” Nikto nods, “this is Sputnik.” He looks you up and down, before asking, “you are comfortable with her, yes?”
“Uh, yeah, I’ve worked with hyenas before,” you confirm. That, unfortunately, doesn’t make it any easier or less nerve-wracking to be so close to an unrestrained predator. Normally, there’s at least a fence between you and any of the wildlife you’re treating, but hopefully the animal is somewhat friendly given it’s allowed to roam free.
At your confirmation, he lets out a sharp whistle and snaps out a harsh, “КО МНЕ!” Causing the animal to leap to her feet and sprint across the grass to her owner’s side.
You try not to jump when Sputnik runs directly toward you but manage to keep a handle on your reactions. Much to your relief, however, rather than tackling you to the floor and tearing your throat out, the hyena starts laughing excitedly and running circles around you. She’s clearly very curious, stopping every few seconds to try and sniff at you from a distance.
You can imagine it would be an intimidating sight for anyone who has never encountered a hyena before, but she’s clearly just excited to meet someone new. “Is she normally this excited to meet new people?” you ask, unable to resist the smile that grows on your face as Sputnik starts to playfully nip at Nikto’s legs.
The man huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, “no.”
You’re beginning to understand that Nikto is not one for making conversation.
As Sputnik calms again, you watch her wander around the area. The issue becomes clear to you quite quickly in the form of a slight limp on one of her hind legs. She seems to otherwise be bright, alert and responsive, only the sore leg causing her problems.
You run through the basic questions about the problem, how long it’s being going on, and how her behaviour has been recently. You quickly take notes on her previous medical history while keeping an eye on Sputnik. After taking down her information, you ask Nikto to bring her to one of the old sheds so you can begin the exam.
She’s a beautiful hyena, and despite not having the behaviour of a domesticated dog, she can somewhat follow her owner’s commands. After seeing Nikto tapping the top of one of the tables, she hops up into a bench for you to more easily inspect her body.
With Sputnik firmly restrained by her owner, you gently reach out for her hind paw. You softly palpate the area, taking note of the large amount of swelling, particularly in the area between two of her toes. After glancing up to ensure she isn’t getting too stressed, you pull apart the toes, spotting a nasty yellow lump of what is presumably infection.
As you check over the area, you notice something black sticking out of the wound. With your trusty pair of tweezers you take hold of the object and begin to gently tease it out of the swollen mass. Sputnik’s leg twitches slightly, clearly not happy about someone touching her sore paw, but after a few soft words of encouragement she settles once again.
Your grip on the object slips a few times, but eventually you’re able to pull it free. It’s a nasty thorn, a whole inch in length that was buried in the poor animal’s foot. Just removing it causes a flood of pus to begin squirting from the wound and you’re thankful for the medical gloves you’re wearing, because it is far from a pleasant smell.
Sputnik whines, trying to pull her paw away again, but with your client still holding her head in place you can continue to express the rest of the fluid without causing her much more distress. With a small syringe of saline, you quickly flush out the remaining chunks of hardened infection until the liquid runs clear.
It’s a small enough opening that she won’t need the wound packed or any stitches to keep it closed. Instead, you spray the area with a thick layer of Blu-Kote to prevent any further infection.
“I'll need to give her a quick antibiotic injection to make sure it won’t come back, just make sure she’s restrained, okay?” You receive a grunt of acknowledgement, then provide the needed shot. Sputnik tries to turn and snap at you, but with Nikto in the way she ends up biting at thin air and growling in frustration.
You gently rub at the hyena’s back with a loving coo, “what a brave girl, you did so well!”
After being released she turns to regard you for a moment, before squealing happily and trying to lick at your face. It seems you’re already forgiven for your cruel transgressions against the poor girl. “Looks like this was the cause of the trouble,” you explain, briefly showing Nikto the old thorn you’d removed.
Nikto turns his gaze to Sputnik, rolling his eyes before gently cuffing her around the back of the head. “Долбоеб,” he mutters, ignoring the way she starts to playfully bite at one of his gloved hands.
You’re not entirely sure what he said, but no doubt it’s some sort of insult. Not that Sputnik seems to care, hopping down from the table and trotting around the barn as if the last ten minutes didn’t occur.
“I gave her a strong antibiotic, but spotted hyenas are pretty notorious for their infections being resistant to treatment, so if she starts getting worse or isn’t improving then be sure to give me a call and we’ll look at if there’s anything we need to do,” you explain, keeping an eye on how Sputnik moves on her feet now.
“Understood,” the man nods, standing ramrod straight with his arms crossed over his chest.
Clearly this man still isn’t very interested in a conversation, given he has nothing further to add and almost seems to be pointedly ignoring you. It’s a little uncomfortable, but he’s certainly not the first... interesting character you’ve dealt with in your career and he won’t be the last. “Do you have any other questions about the treatment?” you ask.
“нет,” he grunts, before quickly adding, “no.”
You nod, offering the man a genuine smile, “well, I’m glad I could help out.” You remove your gloves and quickly start packing away the tools you’d been using, “the office will send through an invoice to your email, so you can pay online or head down to the clinic to pay in person.”
He just nods, watching you silently as you finish up collecting your tools and placing them back away into your bag. His eyes seem to burn into you, his icy gaze piercing through your body and directly into your very soul. You’re not sure how comfortable you are having your innermost self so openly exposed to someone you’ve only just met, but quickly shake off the feeling.
As soon as you’re finished packing, you pull out one of your personal cards, handing it to Nikto. He stares at the piece of cardboard for a long moment, and you quickly explain, “my card, it’s got my number on it in case you ever need help.” You can’t imagine how difficult it must be for him to find someone with genuine experience treating large predatory animals and you’re more than happy to offer as much of your expertise as he wants.
Nikto awkwardly goes to reach for the card with one of his hands, only to pause midway and reach for it with the other one. He fleetingly glances over the card, then tucks it into one of his shirt pockets.
While you make your way back to your car, Nikto calls Sputnik back over and ensures the animal walks at his heels. She doesn’t seem happy with this command, whining and laughing as she looks between her master and you. She very obviously wants to run after you and play but knows better than to ignore her owner.
Sputnik sits next to Nikto as the man watches you quickly pack everything back into your car. She keeps looking between you and Nikto, as if silently begging him to allow her to go back to you for more attention, but he stands strong against her sad eyes. It’s cute, really, since it likely means that weaponized puppy dog eyes are an effective tool in getting the stoic man to crumble if she’s still attempting to use them against him.
Before you hop into the car you give Sputnik a wave, laughing when she cries at you. “Bye, sweetheart!” you coo again, before offering her owner a wave and a smile.
Looking into the rear-view mirror on your way back toward the main road, you can see both Nikto and Sputnik watching you leave. They’re an odd pair, but it’s been a while since you had the chance to work with such a beautiful animal and you can’t help looking forward to seeing both her and her strange human again sometime soon.
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➶ the butcher
sfw | tags ; nb!yandere butcher x gn reader (only prn used for reader is ‘you’), yandere behavior/tendencies, stalking, butchery (duh), violent imagery/ideation + implied violence
i dont see explicitly nonbinary yanderes much at all so im here to change that bc us offgendered mfs can be are crazy too 😌 sorry if this kinda sucks bc i finished this up while half asleep
you always felt there was something… off. about the 24 hour deli you always passed by.
it seemed to always be empty, aside from the butcher who was constantly at work inside. chopping meat, severing flesh from bone, every action executed with nearly clinical precision. did they ever do anything else? how were they always so busy with so little customers?
you could never understand. but as much as you were put off by the strange little store, curiosity gnawed at you with equal strength.
because of that, the day you entered the shop for the first time late one night, you left all of your concerns at the door.
unbeknownst to you, the butcher had been watching you long before you ever entered their deli. they always felt your eyes on them when you passed by their store — your gaze just felt so different from others. electrical, almost. they always knew when you were nearby. you must've felt it too, right? the connection you had?
but poor rhodes, they could never just approach you! you never stopped by and you didn't even know their name. they never had an opening to meet you formally. it'd be such a shame to scare you off...
thus, they were content with watching you from a distance. they ensured you never noticed their dark eyes following you, only daring to observe you passing in their peripherals or looking in your direction after you had walked far enough away. how wonderful your appearance was... a lovely sight that always brightened up the monotony of their work days. it was so fun to see you go about your life, it satisfied them enough to not mind your lack of connection.
though, sometimes... they couldn't help but imagine the animals they were tearing apart were the folk they occasionally saw you talking to. to tear their skin off of them, cut them into filets and send them far, far away from you... they ideated about it more times than they'd admit. why did you have to interact with others in front of them?
the day you actually entered their shop was a day they'd never forget. they thought they were dreaming when you walked in, shivering from the cold of the night seeking warmth and food in their establishment for the first time. you'd started a new job, see, and your shift ended well after everything else had closed. you were forced to forgo dinner and you were starved. so rhodes' butchery was the only place nearby you could visit.
you were intimidated by them, admittedly. their hulking frame, blank expression, and rough voice combined with the blood and gore constantly clinging to their apron was enough to put anyone on edge. but they couldn't be that bad, right?
their rampant emotions were hidden behind the unwaveringly neutral expression they always held, and you were none the wiser to their thudding heart and the slight tremble in their hands as they took your order.
the exchange was simple enough — you ordered a sandwich and something warm to drink, they made it for you, and you'd sit in one of the few chairs scattering the deli's entrance to enjoy your food and try to wind down after your shift.
and just like that, a routine was established.
you got to know rhodes as you continued to visit their place of work. they weren't scary, just awkward! or so you told yourself. but they were so easy to talk to — albeit not the best conversationalist, they were a superb listener. they'd devote their full attention to you every time you spoke to them, not daring to breathe a word so they wouldn't interrupt your lovely voice. they'd learn everything they could about you during your conversations. how you were gradually getting used to your new job, how it was a good thing they were open so late, how you were grateful for their work... things that they'd replay in their mind over and over again when you left.
you never really thought much of it when rhodes began giving you food on the house, using various excuses from not wanting to have to reopen the register to having conveniently already made your favorite sandwich earlier that day for a canceled order. you were friends now! of course they'd want to do you favors.
you also never really thought of it when the coworker who you'd complained about to them a few times stopped coming to work, either. they made an enemy out of so many people at your job, maybe they got fired? it wasn't any of your business.
rhodes had no clue how they'd get closer to you just yet. but now that you were seeing them regularly, they didn't mind settling for making your life a bit easier.
in any way they could.
after all, no one was going to question a butcher for having bloodied clothes.
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Devotion 🖤
I. Stronger Together (Ch 3)
CultLeader!Joel x OFC!Reader
Series Summary: When is it enough? When is it too much? When does Devotion become Obsession?
Visit the Series Masterlist for series warnings, cult info, timeline info, and HCs on ages. Reader has a nickname and some minor physical descriptions - is an OFC from Reader POV.
*This series is 18+ MDNI. I will not be listing individual chapter warnings as I don't want to spoil the plot of each chapter. Please see the series masterlist for entire series warnings to decide if this is for you.*
LAYOUT OF JOEL'S HOUSE
PREVIOUS
I. Stronger Together
CH 3 (5.3k)
One afternoon you come back with Bianca from your baths and Tess informs you that you’ll now be accompanying Joel to one of his weekly community meetings. There are the three nights a week that you all leave the house, but Joel also goes out after dinner the other four nights of the week, interacting with different groups in The Valley. Tess has always accompanied him to his Thursday meeting and she lets you know that you’ll be taking her place.
At the meeting he introduces you to the group, which is comprised of farmers who live further down the Valley, outside the safety of the town. You learn that they come together every Thursday to bring in the animal products, take away food, trade supplies, discuss safety issues, and spend some time socializing. The evening meeting with Joel is the last thing they do before they head back to their land.
With each passing week, he watches you come out of your shell more and he’s impressed by your demeanor. You assist the older folks with getting a drink and a bite to eat. You make conversation with them, easily giving them your time and attention. You nod and listen when they speak with Joel about their concerns. Most importantly, you don’t overstep. You allow him to speak, giving them his practiced lines, finding solutions to their issues and pacifying their fears.
You however, feel like you’re struggling to find your place at the house. In your attempt to fix the holes in Joel’s socks you accidentally sewed the socks shut, leaving Tess to pull the stitches and mend them properly. Tess gives you some rags and asks that you clean all of the surfaces in the house. She stops you ten minutes later when you can’t stop sneezing from the dust. She assigns you to the laundry instead, but the cold, soapy water makes your hands break out in hives. She makes a joke about you being allergic to hard work, but she doesn’t laugh. You think she was joking.
Sometimes you work outside with Rosie in the mornings, but you hate getting all dirty and smelling like earthworms. You pull up too many weeds that aren’t weeds and she sends you inside, urging you to use your talents elsewhere. What talents? You tag along with Sasha sometimes, and listen as she tells you how to set a trap for small animals, but you feel completely useless at her side. She’s good at so many things and you feel like a clumsy oaf, even more so when you trip in the woods one afternoon and scare off the deer she’d been tracking for an hour. She doesn’t attempt to hide her irritation the way Rosie did.
Kerri and Bianca try to use your help in the kitchen, but you burn all of the chicken on the grill your first night cooking. They switch you to helping with preparing the meals, but you cut yourself so badly with the knife that Joel threatens to take you back to the clinic and give you more of his blood. You stand against the doorframe with your arm above your head for forty five minutes before it stops bleeding and he calms down. No more kitchen work for you, he mutters as he holds you on the couch later, letting you rest while everyone else cleans up the meal.
All of the women are too nice to give you the dirty looks that you think you deserve. They all earn their place here and what can you do? Nothing. You try not to be sad the day that your only friend at the house, Bianca, moves out. Is she actually your friend, or is she just too timid to tell you off? You go up to the attic to help her pack up her few belongings before Tess sends you downstairs to help Kerri pack up to leave the room she’s been sharing with Sasha.
You’re nervous that with Bianca gone you’ll be expected to take over her chores, which are a little bit of everything. You seem to mess up every chore you’re assigned. What the fuck are you supposed to do with yourself? As you walk down the stairs you hear Tess tell Bianca that this is for the best, and that she’s just getting bigger. You’d noticed Bianca gaining weight but you didn’t know that was a problem. Did Joel say something about her weight gain? Why would he care?
You let your thoughts spiral a bit, wondering if Joel cared about your weight, if he would ask you to leave if you put on more pounds. Fat and useless, what a combo that would be. You’re not exactly skinny as it is, and you’re not even as nice looking as Bianca, with her kind, warm, brown eyes and her long, chestnut hair. She’s very shy and nearly silent but she’s very pretty. You see men look at her. Most people don’t give you a second glance, but that’s the way you prefer it. There’s a reason you chopped all your hair off and wore tight bindings across your chest for months.
You don’t want men looking at you. When a man looks at you he’s only thinking about one thing. He’s thinking what he can get out of you, what he can take from you; except Joel, you tell yourself. Joel doesn’t look at you like that. Joel doesn’t take, he wouldn’t do that. He still looks at you with wonder. He still has so many questions in his eyes about you that you’ve been slowly trying to answer. Maybe if you let him in, show him you’re trying to trust, he won’t care that you aren’t as useful in the home as the other women.
–
Joel’s schedule is packed, making up for meetings he missed while he visited with you all day, every day in the clinic for nearly two weeks. It means you have less reading time together during the week, so your time together dwindles to holding hands under the table at mealtimes, quick smooches as he pulls you into his office between meetings, and nuzzling into each other outside your bedroom door in the mornings.
Your only real alone time now is walking to and from the meeting on Thursdays. Each week after the meeting ends the group members filter out, some staying back to help you put away the folding chairs. As a group, you all walk together to the town square before splitting up; them heading out of town while you and Joel head back to the house. Each of these evenings allows you two a few stolen moments alone on the porch of the house before returning inside.
First you just spend them with your foreheads touching, noses brushing, and shared giggles between your pressed together lips. The second week Joel drags you onto his lap on the front porch bench, kissing and licking at your neck while you card your fingers through his hair. You start to panic when you feel him getting aroused underneath you, but the terrified voice in the back of your mind is muted when the front door opens and Sasha comes out for firewood, interrupting and ending your time alone together.
The following week is Thanksgiving, one of the few holidays The Valley celebrates. Joel makes sure you’re sitting next to him at the head table. There is so much going on, almost every single person – save for a small patrol – is gathered together for this feast. Everyone joins hands above the table while someone makes a prayer, but Joel doesn’t let go of yours for a long time afterward.
Even though you haven’t been getting as much alone time together, Joel feels like you’re still growing ever-closer. He has you next to him for this holiday meal so he can show you off. He wants everyone in The Valley to see that you trust him, that you’re becoming his. He notices your wide eyes scan the room, overwhelmed by the very large crowd of people and the raucous event. He leans over and whispers in your ear.
“What are you thankful for, baby?”
He sees your eyes cast down, trying to hide a shy smile. You squeeze his hand and meet his eyes. He squeezes yours back to ground you, to reassure you, like he’s taming a feral little animal.
The following week as you and Joel put away the chairs after the meeting, you hear a man call out a goodnight and you look up just in time to see the last farmer heading out the door. You turn in a circle to confirm there is no one else in the room with you and Joel, and your eyes come back to the door just as it clicks shut. The silence that follows is deafening. You’re completely alone with Joel. Completely.
What strikes you is not the all-encompassing fear that grips you; what strikes you is how this is not the usual fear you have come to know from being alone with a man. For once, you’re not scared of what Joel might do – by now you trust him not to hurt you. You have been mostly alone with him so many times in the last two months and he has always been gentle and respectful, never crossing your still-unspoken boundaries.
After he told you about his daughter, something inside of you shifted. For the first time in your whole life you thought that perhaps you belonged somewhere. Being here with him feels right, it feels like your destiny. You’re not scared of him doing something, you’re scared of him doing nothing. What if he doesn’t want you as badly as you want him? What if he got tired of waiting for you? What if he rejects you?
Joel sees you staring at the door with that look in your eye, the look like you want to run right through it, leaving behind a cartoonish hole in the door in your wake.
“PJ”, he says, and your eyes find his, “Let’s put away these chairs and we can go.”
–
He doesn’t try to hold your hand on the way home, worried that you’re too skittish for him to touch, sure that you’d bolt if he tried. You’ve never done that, you’ve never run from him and yet it’s always in the back of his mind. He’s so worried about losing you. He thinks about it all the time. It terrifies him.
The hour is late when you return to the house and you find it dark, everyone already in bed. You both head upstairs but instead of heading into his room as he usually does, he turns with you and stands outside your door. You tilt your head back to look up at him. Your hair has been growing out, looking more like a pixie cut now. He can just see the wet of your eyes twinkle in the darkness.
“Do you wanna come in?” you ask, your voice faint even in the silent house.
A deep rumble emanates from Joel’s chest. He can’t enter your room. It’s been one of Tess’ rules since the beginning and it’s very important to her. The position he holds in The Valley, the way that everyone looks up to him, she said they’ve put him on a pedestal. And once on a pedestal you have to be very careful because everyone can see you.
Everyone knows he lives with all of these women, and everyone knows that he sleeps with most of them. Everyone but you. He’s kept this knowledge from you on purpose. They are consenting adults, they each have their own space and their own autonomy. If they want to initiate sex with him, they come to his room. He doesn’t go to them, keeping it entirely on their terms.
But how does he reject your offer to come into your room without telling you the rest? Without revealing all of his half-truths and omissions. It’s taken so long for you to trust him, he can’t destroy that trust. But won’t saying no hurt you too? He wants to say yes but he can’t. How the fuck does he say no to you? Shit. He’s already waited too long to answer, his silence has gone on for too long.
“We could… close the door,” you offer. His eyes clench shut.
Jesus Christ you’re going to kill him. His dick is aching in his jeans right now. He’s been waiting for you to make an offer like this for so long. Waking up every morning hard, having to jerk off like a teenager before he can even start his day. None of the women have even tried to come to his room for sex since he brought you down off that mountain. He didn’t ask but he’s sure they see him preoccupied with you. Hell, he’s damn near drowning in you.
He’s never been like this with a woman he’s brought into the house. Never kissing them in the kitchen or touching their knees under the dinner table. He’s never made out with one of them in his office between meetings or woken up early just to smell their hair in the hallway. He’s gone off the fucking rails and it’s all because of you. But he can’t break the rule, he can’t accept your invitation into your room. He also can’t tell you about the rule.
Your heart is going to beat out of your chest, you’re sure of it. Joel reaches one hand forward to grab yours, finally touching you. His calloused fingertips trace the inside of your wrist, gently moving across the delicate skin. You can barely see in the dark but you know he’s moved closer because you can smell him, feel the heat of his body radiating off him. His clothes smell like sunshine, line-dried in the crisp autumn air. You smell the day wafting off his skin, a hint of sweat and leather hits your nostrils.
Your knees begin to knock together and you’re so afraid that they’re going to give out under you when he rejects you. You reach your free hand up to brace yourself, placing it on his chest, feeling his own heart thumping wildly underneath. You barely hear him say not tonight PJ over the pulsing beat in your ears, but before you can react to his refusal you feel his arms snake around your waist and he’s pressing his lips onto yours, hard.
He pushes you up against the open door frame of your room, his feet planted securely in the hallway. You immediately grant his tongue access to your mouth and he begins to explore it, for the first time. You’ve never felt his hot wet tongue against yours, and you think it just might be the thing that kills you. You moan into his mouth as you throw your arms around his neck.
He continues to kiss you with moving lips and licking tongue, your hands moving to twist in his curls – curls that are a bit longer than when you first met him. His arms roam freely up and down your back, pulling you close to him and pressing your hard nipples against the broad planes of his chest. You’re lost in the heat of him, the taste of him, the feel of his body pressing to yours. You’ve waited so long for this. You don’t know how long it’s going to last but you never want it to end.
Driven by lust, madness, or both, you cup your hand over the zipper on his jeans, palming his erection. It feels so big in your hold. He exhales a moan into your mouth and clutches his hand overtop of yours, pressing you into him more firmly, curving your fingers around the heft of it. Fuck, it’s so hard. You feel wetness dripping out of you into your underwear. Holy fuck you’re getting dizzy.
Unable to even think straight, you don’t notice he’s let go of your hand until you feel it cupping the front of your jeans, and the noise that leaves your mouth is sinful. He slams his mouth overtop of yours to muffle your wail but it still echoes down the silent hall. You know he must feel the heat radiating off your core, he must already feel how embarrassingly wet you are. He brings both hands to the front of your jeans and undoes the button, pausing to look you in the eyes and wait for you to nod him on further. You do.
As he takes down the zipper you close your eyes and think this is finally it, you’re finally going to feel him where you need him the most. But instead of feeling his fingers skirt along the waistband of your underwear, you feel them touching your lips. You open your eyes and his face is inches from yours. He nods his head and tells you to open, and lets his index and middle finger pass over your lips and touch your tongue.
He doesn’t have to tell you to close your mouth, you do it on your own, closing your eyes again and letting your pooling saliva coat his digits. You lick your tongue between them, along his knuckles and the pads of his fingers, then you gently suck, running your tongue flat along the underside as if it were another part of him in your mouth instead. You wish there was more light in the hallway because when you open your eyes to look at his face you’re pretty sure he looks the way you feel.
He takes his fingers out of your mouth slowly, a trail of saliva connecting them to your tongue briefly, before he dips them into your underwear and slides them right over your clit. He wouldn’t have known of course, but he didn’t need you to wet his fingers, you were already soaking wet from just his touch. The state he finds you in sends jolts of electricity surging down his cock.
He gently rubs his finger alongside your bundle of nerves, dragging them down to collect even more of your ample wetness. You scramble your hands up the front of his shirt, longing for skin-to-skin contact with him. You shuffle your fingers through his sparse chest hair and drag your nails over his hardening nipples, causing him to crash his lips against yours to silence his own groan this time.
He pushes his middle finger towards your hole and feels you nodding as he does it. His finger slides inside you so easily; you’re so fucking wet. He’s never felt anyone this wet before. You reach around behind him and shove your hands down the back of his pants, grabbing handfuls of his ass, squealing against his mouth when you discover that he’s not wearing underwear.
He continues to work his middle finger in and out of your tight hole, spreading his index finger to run it up alongside your exposed clit. He knows you like it because you’re whimpering and clawing at him non-stop. It’s so loud in the otherwise dead-silent house but he can’t bring himself to give a single shit who else can hear you. Every sound you make goes straight to his leaking dick.
He pulls his mouth off yours and brings his face to your hair, inhaling deeply. Today was your bath day and your hair smells like soap and lavender. He likes it but he prefers when it smells slept-in, smells like you. He lowers his mouth and sucks a dark mark into your skin just below where your neck meets your shoulder, then he brings his lips to your ear, biting and kissing your earlobe.
He whispers in your ear; you’re so fucking wet baby, you’re so tight, can feel how wet you are, can you feel it baby?, I’m gonna smell like you after this ya know, you’re all over me, can you hear it?, you’re gonna feel me for days baby, for days.
You yank on his arms, pulling him as close to you as possible and orgasm with a squeal, shuddering in his hold and panting his name over and over into the hollow of his neck. He takes his hands out of your pants, glistening with your release, and greedily shoves his fingers into his mouth above your head. Once clean he brings his face to the side of your neck, nuzzling you and nipping at your skin there and breathing in your heady scent.
Before either of you get a chance to give any due attention to his painful, raging erection, Tess’ door opens and she comes out of the room to head towards the bathroom. You yip in embarrassment and cross into your room, closing the door in Joel’s face. Joel shoots Tess a pissed off look and Tess shrugs her shoulders.
“Sorry, it sounded like you guys were done,” she says flippantly as she closes the bathroom door.
Joel knocks lightly at your door a few times and you open it a bit, mortified at being caught acting like a couple of horny teenagers.
“Don’t be shy, baby,” he coos. “We didn’t do anythin’ wrong.”
That’s true. He made sure to stay outside of your room so Tess has nothing to be upset about. He leans his face into the crack of your door and you give him several kisses on the lips but then you hear Tess coming back out of the bathroom and you shut the door in his face again, muttering a flustered goodnight from the other side of the wood.
He turns to Tess again, visibly angry and she suppresses a smile. She resists teasing him verbally and instead kisses him on the cheek and wishes him a goodnight also, closing her door behind her. Joel takes himself into his room and fucks his fist – again – to thoughts of you.
–
The week passes quickly, alone time together still nonexistent as Joel’s responsibilities increase. He always seems to be out of the house on patrols, having meetings, and visiting community members. He argues with Tess about his schedule being too full and she tells him winter is hard, and that people need extra reassurances to make it through. She also reminds him, in a whisper, that he has spent a lot of time focusing on one person and ignoring the rest, and he needs to make up for that. His only response is a growl before he leaves the room.
Joel finds you outside the bathroom door one morning and you blush, realizing you’re wearing one of his button-up shirts, ready to defend yourself for pilfering it off the laundry line. Instead of admonishing you, he wordlessly pulls the open collar over your one shoulder a bit, observing the fading mark he’d sucked into your skin. He kisses over it gently and you think he’s having regrets about marking you like that, but you say nothing, a little embarrassed by the fact that you stare at it every morning in the bathroom mirror.
When Thursday comes around again you find yourself alone once more after the meeting, entering a house that is dark and quiet. Instead of going upstairs you both go into the kitchen for a glass of water, slowly taking sips from your glass before you lose all control and launch yourself at him. This might be your first time instigating this kind of behavior but your need for him fuels your boldness.
You grab at him everywhere you can reach, pulling him tight to you, feeling the hardness of his shoulders under your hands and the softness of his belly against yours. You pull on fistfulls of his hair and shove your tongue into his mouth, eliciting groans from him. You don’t even care how desperate you appear as you writhe against him, whimpering. You are desperate for him.
You need him to hold you tight, to kiss you hard, to make you feel like a woman. You need to belong to him, to matter to him, to make him happy. You need him to give you purpose, to bring you joy, to make you whole. You need him to make you forget every man that came before him, every hand that touched you with bad intentions. You need to feel his body enveloping you. You need him to consume you.
He pulls you into the dining room and lifts your legs up to place your butt on the table’s edge but instead you wrap both legs around his waist. He growls at your aggressive move and pushes your back down firmly on the dining table, keeping himself against you. He begins to grind himself against your core, unable and unwilling to hold himself back.
Feeling like feral animals, you lick and moan into each other’s mouths as the table creaks beneath you. You shove your hands up the back of his shirt, clawing marks down him. He moves his face along your neck, taking deep inhaling breaths and nipping at your skin, debating on whether to give you a fresh mark. Fisting your hands in his hair, you tug on his locks and interrupt his thoughts, earning groans that he muffles into the crook of your shoulder.
Suddenly the lights in the kitchen flip on, and Tess is standing in the doorway.
“Please,” she says calmly, “Not on the table where we eat.”
You clap your hand over your mouth, silencing your loud yelp. Joel pushes himself off the table, also startled by her appearance. You take the opportunity to scramble away and run up the stairs. Hearing your door slam closed, Joel turns to Tess, snarling.
“What the fuck, Tess? What the fuck,” grabbing the edge of the table in a splintering grip.
“Why don’t you two just fuck already?” she chuckles, trying to rile him up.
“That’s what I’m fuckin’ trying to do,” he growls, slamming his fists down several times.
“Don’t break my fucking table,” she snaps at him.
Joel grabs her by the hips and pushes her face down bent over the table, slamming his body into her ass. Tess just lays there, letting him rut into her for a moment. He grabs her by the hair, yanking her up, and takes a big inhale into the back of her head, continuing to grind his pelvis into her. He takes a few more breaths and stops moving his hips, calming down. Eventually he releases her, pushing her away from him harshly.
“Yeah, I don’t smell like her, do I?” Tess says.
He mutters something she can’t quite make out, still pissed off. She can see his softening erection but a wild fucking look remains in his eyes. She watches him point to the table several times before he opens his mouth.
“That’s my fuckin’ table. I’ll do whatever I fuckin’ want to it,” and with that he goes up to bed.
He jerks off in his room alone. Again.
–
Once again the interim week is relatively tame, as you don’t have much chance to be alone together. You manage to sneak in kisses and touches when you can, but your stolen moments are no longer innocent. There’s no more playful giggles or gentle caresses. You exchange lustful glances over the table, your kisses are laden with tongue and your touches are now groping and needy.
You wake up every morning having dreamt of him all night, and spend every day wet and wanting, full-body shudders running through you at the memory of his hands and lips on you. Everytime you pass him in the hallway you ache for him, fleeting touches never fulfilling the longing you feel. You can’t get to sleep at night without touching yourself, covering your face with your pillow to muffle your pleasure.
You don’t remember being this wound up over anyone in your whole life, especially not since the world ended and every day became a fight to survive. Touching yourself never brought you such relief before, but imagining it’s Joel touching you ignites a spark deep inside and your desire is driving you mad. Joel makes you forget how miserable things are, how scared you’ve been. He makes you feel safe.
The next Thursday you come back from the meeting much later than expected, Tess is waiting up – drinking tea in the dining room, a bit concerned. She sees you both enter, him practically carrying you inside and up the stairs. When he comes back down she goes to make some commentary about you two “finally” doing the deed when she sees a fresh wet stain high inside the thigh of his pants. Did he come in his pants?
“What the fuck?” she can’t help it from slipping out.
He doesn’t meet her eyes, just shrugs his shoulders and shuffles into the kitchen for a drink. He doesn’t seem agitated like he was when she interrupted him before so she thinks he must at least be satisfied with whatever happened tonight. He passes back through the room and mutters a goodnight, heading upstairs without elaborating on the state he’s in or what kept you two so late.
She’s known Joel for many years and has felt a lot of things for him, but at no point did she let herself believe that he felt anything close to love for her. She had actually convinced herself that he was incapable of feeling love, and is pretty sure he’s convinced himself of the same thing. But what is this if not true intimacy?
She wasn’t sure about you at first, especially given your penchant for fucking up your chores. But you are friendly to your housemates and giving in the community. You’re kind but reserved, and although it takes you a while to warm up to people, Tess firmly believes that you’re a genuinely good person, and – most importantly–- could be truly good for Joel. She sees that Joel lets his guard down around you, and that you like Joel for who he really is, which is something he doesn’t show to anyone.
She knows he’s kept things from you, and wonders how much he’s been manipulating you in-between letting his true self show. Maybe that’s not the right word for what Joel does, manipulate. It doesn’t feel like that’s what he’s doing when you’re the target of it. It feels good, amazing even, because when Joel makes you feel like you matter to him, it’s intoxicating. It’s the best fucking feeling in the world.
She wonders if things are going to change, and how they might change. She thinks that if Joel can admit his true feelings and commit, then his relationship with you could change the very trajectory of this community. She and Joel worked very hard to build this community up but she knows that it’s stable enough now that a change like this won’t topple it. She quietly hopes it will change significantly.
She doesn’t love how subserviently women are treated in this community and has always wondered if it would transform if Joel took a partner. For a while she hoped that partner would be her, but that thought died out long ago. If Joel is seen in public showing love and affection for an equal female partner, it could benefit women and the community as a whole going forward.
She lets herself envision that future, where Joel embraces his feelings and makes changes in his home and the community, and the positive effects are felt all across The Valley. But the biggest hurdle will be getting Joel to admit to himself – and everyone else – the softness and vulnerability that you bring out in him. Letting himself love someone means opening himself up to loss, and if there’s one thing that Joel Miller does not do, it’s lose.
🖤
NEXT
Thank you endlessly to @papipascalispunk for helping me with this series and listening to me rant about Cult Leader Joel. 🫂 I appreciate you SO much.
TAGLIST (lmk if you wanna be added or removed)
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[warning: while f!reader is not described with any specific physical characteristics, the child in this fic is described as having inherited all of Megumi’s attributes and none from reader! please read with that in mind, or pass over this fic if not <3]
"So, can you help me?"
Megumi blinks down at the little boy, still yet to say a single word since he arrived at the veterinary clinic's doorstep. His lips part, and he tries to say something, but speech fails him. Like he's forgotten how to will his lips and teeth and tongue to do anything at all.
The little boy—the one who looks just like him, who has his hair, and his father's eyes, and the nose he's always been told he got from his mother—waits raptly for his response.
Megumi nods, waving the child in from the rain.
That should have been the first thing he did, he realizes belatedly, especially when he sees the way the boy's teeth are chattering when he steps in from the cold. He's sopping wet—with water dripping from his little blue raincoat and his yellow rubber boots onto the lobby floor.
"Can I see it?" Megumi finally speaks, looking down at the little baby bunny the boy is holding to his chest.
The boy looks reluctant for a moment, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, before nodding. He allows Megumi to scoop the animal from his little hand into his own, much larger one. The rabbit looks even tinier when he holds it in his hand, but it is mercifully still alive. It's weak, and possibly not going to make it, but for now there's still hope—and that's all Megumi needs.
He looks at the boy again, who waits with bated breath for his prognosis.
"Is this your pet?" Megumi asks the boy, though there are about a thousand other questions he has that beg to be posed.
The little boy shakes his head no.
"Where did you find it?"
"In the field behind Mama's work," the little boy says. "Is he gonna be okay?"
Mama.
"What's your mama's name?" Megumi asks before he can stop himself.
The little boy looks at him curiously. "Mama's name?"
Megumi nods.
"Mama."
The adult sighs pressing a hand to his eyes, unsure of why he expected anything else.
Two little hands clutch at the hem of his sweater.
"Please Mister," the little boy says, and Megumi spreads his fingers apart to look down at where the boy stands below him. The tears have welled fiercely now, sparkling in his green eyes. "Please make sure the bunny is okay."
Megumi freezes for a moment, an ache in his chest that he can't name—a heart attack maybe?
"Fushiguroooooooooooo—!"
A familiar figure appears in the doorway to the clinic, the door sliding open again.
"The weather out there is nast—"
Yuuji, still in his station uniform and with a case of beer tucked under one arm, freezes when he steps inside and spots the little boy holding on to the bottom of Megumi's jumper.
The darker haired man watches just about every thought play out across his long-time friend's face. Yuuji's eyes snap up to meet his, and Megumi can practically see the words flashing in his eyes—
WHAT THE FUCK?
"Yuuji, can you please look after him while I take his bunny to an exam room?" Megumi's voice is surprisingly even as he addresses his friend. "He came here alone."
It takes Yuuji a moment to process things, but when he does, Megumi watches the switch happen—the softening of his expression, the easygoing smile appearing on his face. This is not Yuuji who Megumi once watched streak naked across their high school sportsfield when he lost a bet to Nobara, not Yuuji who once cried for three hours after watching a tragic romance movie that didn't have a happy ending, not Yuuji who he's dragged home drunk more times than he can count—this is Itadori-san, Fire Lieutenant, who is here to help a little boy who's all alone late at night.
"Hi there," Yuuji says to the boy, crouching down to the boy's level. He sets the case of beer aside on one of the waiting room chairs. "I'm Itadori Yuuji, what's your name?"
Megumi almost laughs, but doesn't, and he steps through the doorway towards the exam rooms before he can hear the little boy's answer.
It doesn't take Megumi long to surmise the the baby bunny is not in any imminent peril—suffering more than anything from exposure, having likely been separated from it's mother too soon, and met with weather too inclement to survive. If the little boy hadn't found him, and hadn't known to bring him here, it's unlikely it would have lasted the night.
Megumi gets the rabbit set up in a small makeshift cage for the time being, setting down clean bits of hay and something soft for it to sleep atop. He puts water and some food inside as well, but just being in from the cold seems to have done the animal a world of good, and it quickly hides beneath the little blanket Megumi put down for it, and curls up to go to sleep.
He breathes a little easier, but only for a moment.
He makes his way back out to the lobby.
Yuuji is crouching on the floor, towelling the little boy's hair dry as he sits on one of the waiting room chairs. When Yuuji stops the vigorous movement of his hands, and the child peeks out from underneath the towel, his hair is sticking up in every which way. Both of the adults in the room stare at him in shock.
He looks just like Megumi.
"Kota-chan, I don't know if you got a proper introduction when you arrived," Yuuji says with a bright smile towards the little boy, jutting a thumb over his shoulder in Megumi's direction, "this is Doctor Fushiguro, he takes care of all of the animals here."
The little boy blinks in Megumi's direction, the towel still looped around his shoulders.
"Hello," Megumi greets him, though it's a little stiff.
"Is he okay?" the little boy, Kota as Yuuji has just introduced him, asks him earnestly. "Is the bunny okay?"
Megumi nods. "He'll be fine."
Kota smiles brightly, his cheeks lifting high on his face. It's the purest, sincerest expression that Megumi's ever seen on anyone.
"Kota-chan was just telling me that his mother works at a restaurant not far from here," Yuuji says, standing from his stoop on one side of the room. He shares a look with his friend that's more serious than the expression on his face or the tone of his voice betrays. "Do you know her?"
Megumi looks down at his feet, his fists clenched at his side.
He shakes his head no.
He hears Yuuji make a choked little noise of confusion, which he covers with a cough. "Hey, Kota-chan, are you hungry?"
Megumi looks up in time to see the little boy nod, his hands resting over his stomach. His blue raincoat is hanging on the coat rack by the entrance along with Yuuji's and now Megumi can see the sweater he's wearing—with a little cartoon racoon printed on the front.
"I know where Dr. Fushiguro keeps all the good snacks, should we go get one?" Yuuji asks the boy with a bright smile, and Kota nods again with an excited sparkle in his eyes. Yuuji takes his hand and helps him off his chair, leading him towards the staff kitchen. The blush-haired man pauses as he passes his friend.
"You should come too," he says, but his tone is quieter when he speaks to his friend, their eyes meeting. "We've got some stuff to talk about."
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"Writer's Block"
SubElliot x M!Reader
Yeah, so this one took a while. Sorry to keep y'all waiting, but good things come to those who blah blah blah. It's food to be back, and I'm proud to deliver some smut.
My next piece is undecided as of now, but I'll get back to yall soon about it. Have fun.
CW: anal sex, anal penetration, unprotected sex, anal creampie, mentions of clinical visits and implied injuries, mentions of violence, and being obscenely cheesy
To tell the truth, you hadn’t read any of Elliot’s prior, shorter works before you had actually become friends with him. It’s not that you weren’t an avid reader, nor that you weren’t particularly interested. His work was just one of those things that fell into your blindspot during the hazy, depressing Joja days. There wasn’t much time for reading when there was a “weekly” quota to meet, and you were expected to fulfill that quota in a couple of days.
But, after moving to the farm, you suddenly had a large chunk of time on your hands. Turns out, farming is just a lot of sitting around and waiting, if you don't count the occasional bouts of fishing and cutting dangerous monsters to ribbons (or, alternatively, getting cut to ribbons and having to stop by the clinic and get lectured by Harvey and Maru. You were fairly sure you could kill some of those stone golems with how thick your case file was after a couple years in the valley.)
However, after getting to know the man past a quick introduction on your first foray into the beach, you’d taken a gander at some of his work. Various stories in various genres; mysteries, sci-fis, a small fantasy novel that hadn’t been entirely finished… he was a storied author, but he hadn’t actually published anything yet. The genre that had stuck out to you the most, however, had been his romance novels. The man’s tendency for flowery prose and language fit well in such stories of love, heartache, and occasionally lust.
The latter, however, wasn’t always Elliot’s strong suit in writing. Elliot was a romantic man, and physical intimacy was always a part of that, but writing actual sex scenes seemed to be a weak spot for him. He could write smut well, there was no doubt, but as his lover you always noticed how… flustered he would become. While writing his newest novel, coincidentally about a “handsome and rugged” farmer boy and an aspiring writer, he’d cooped himself up in his room several times this week, but the start of autumn had creeped up on you. You’d been too busy to notice the way his face turned red whenever he looked out of the window of his study, watching you plant new crops and tend to the animals. Too busy to notice how whenever he greeted you after your farm work, his touch lingered on your arm as you planned out the next day’s work in your head. Too busy to notice his disheveled hair and clothes whenever you knocked on his study’s door to bring him dinner.
And quite frankly? It was driving him fucking crazy. Elliot was up the fucking wall with desire, filling pages and pages full of the most illicit smut he could think of. He spent hours pouring over those pages for typos and grammatical errors, but every time he looked at the pages he thought of you. Elliot thought of your hands around his neck, your hands in his hair, forcing him to take you deeper and deeper, his back arched as you pumped deep into him from behind… but the fantasies wouldn’t cut it anymore. He needed to feel your skin on his, needed your hands around his hips and your lips lingering for more than a chaste peck. He needed to feel you whisper, sweet and breathy, into his ear as your hand stroked him to completion. He wanted everything, everything right now… but he had a semblance of restraint. He would at least ask politely before he begged you to tear him apart.
Finally, a week into the season, he got his chance. Rain had finally come, the auto-feeders were filled, and you were free. Elliot had been draped over you in his sleep, his hand across your chest as you slept on your back. He gazed upon your sleeping face, letting the pitter patter of the rain on the window soothe his mind, as it ever wandered. Eventually, the allure of the crook of your neck was too much to bear, diving in softly to feel your warmth on his lips. He had to stop himself from grinding against you as he took deep, long breaths of your scent in.
You awoke to his hand caressing your cheek, his breath heavy and warm on your neck. You moved slowly, wrapping your arms around him to pull the rest of him flush against you. If you were any more conscious, you would have felt his length pressing against your leg. You turned your head to look at him, the smile on your face coming naturally. Your voice was soft, glazed with the sleepiness that marks the recently awakened. “Good morning, Elliot.” His hair was disheveled, tangled, and thrown about, but through it all you could still see his handsome face. Framed by the soft early morning sunlight seeping through the window, you didn’t care to stop yourself from staring.
It was quiet, despite the one-sided tension. You were relaxed, gazing into your lover's eyes, but his mind was going utterly feral. You’re always amazing to him, always, but in this light? At this moment? No words could describe his utter attraction towards you. You were nothing less than the most gorgeous being on the planet, and he knew it for a fact. Said beauty stunted his response, forgetting to remove his head from your shoulder to speak. It was muffled, but you got the gist of it; something like “Good morning, my darling.” As he fell back into your neck, his hand snaked its way into yours, as warm and soft as it’d always been.
However, your body had other ideas. It had been in that bed for eight long hours, and it needed to stretch. As you did so, tensing and relaxing and spreading your body out to work out the stiffness of sleep, you felt it. You could feel it, hard against your thigh now, and you weren’t foolish enough to believe it to be anything other than Elliot’s penis. You were about to just chock it up to morning wood, until you felt his breath quicken against your shoulder, his hand grip yours tighter, and a barely stifled moan breach his lips.
Sensitive… he was always so sensitive when he was pent up. The oddities of the week started to piece together inside your head, clicking together ever so simply. You were stiff, for a moment, painfully so… similarly, his cock was STILL pressed against you as you debated and questioned in your head what to do. A conclusion came quickly, however, and with that you turned to him and brought a hand to his face. You chased his lips with a passionate fervor, wasting no time with words that you thought would just get in the way. He breaks the kiss quickly however, proving you wrong as he straddles you.
“I need you, my love. Badly.” It’s short, breathy, lacking his usual smoothness and charisma. These are words tinged with just as much lust and desire as love and passion. “I need you to fuck me, darling. I’ve needed it all week.” His hips move feverishly against yours, a look of strained arousal on his face as he rubs himself against you. Your hands move to them, slowing his movements as you take control of the situation. He groans in protest, but you pay him no mind. After all, he’ll be feeling much better once you get those pants off of him.
Pulling off his sweatpants while he relentlessly grinds himself into you is no small task, but it’s easy compared to keeping yourself from ripping the fabric of your boxers. Truth is, this whole scenario almost had you as riled up as him, straining against your underwear while he raised his hips so you could pull his off. His shaft and balls rested heavy on your stomach, painfully hard and red, throbbing as it felt the warmth of your skin. Elliot looked down at you, his breathing heavy as he tried his best to contain himself. You were little better, your hands resting on him, one on his hips and the other on his thigh. Slowly, you slipped your hand between the both of you and pulled your cock through it’s fabric sheath, gazing into his eyes as you stroked it slowly.
“How do you want me, Elliot?” Your hand stroked his thigh, grounding him in the moment as you spoke. As he answers, he rubs his knuckles over your stomach, the other resting on his leg. “Like this, my dear. I want to look at you. I want to look into your eyes.” It's shaky, but it's said with a grin and a comforting tone. You sit up slightly, your cock resting against his ass as you look at him. He nods, and the fun starts.
You line yourself up to his hole and begin to ease yourself in, wary of how tight he is. Elliot braces himself on your shoulders as you push inside, a long groan escaping his mouth as you stop about halfway inside. You clash your lips with his as you fully push inside, muffling each other’s moans. You hold him close, lazily thrusting into his ass as you bask in his body. You keep looking up into his eyes as he looks down into yours, composure lost as he moans quietly into the air. Your hands roam his body as he shivers in your grasp, one hand resting lightly on his ass, the other gliding up his back, slowly coming to the back of his head.
Your hand rests in his hair, pulling him closer so that you could line kisses along his jaw. Elliot whined into your ear as you pumped into him, reaching the deepest parts of his body as he ground his hips into yours. He was so pretty like this. No wonder you couldn’t keep yourself from pulling his hair, giving you the perfect angle to lay kisses on his neck. He couldn’t stop himself from bucking down onto you harder when you bit his neck. You couldn’t help yourself, instincts taking over as you left your mark on his body. As you ruined him, inside and out, he moaned and cried out in pleasure, your hand still pulling his hair to get better angles to lay kisses and bites.
Elliot wasn’t going to last very long. Right then, all of his most lustful desires were being fulfilled, and he couldn’t be more satisfied. The love of his life was balls deep inside of him with no intention of pulling out, and he couldn’t be more in love. His cock was rubbing against your stomach, and he couldn’t feel closer to the edge. “My love… I’m… not going to…” If your hand hadn’t been in his hair, he would’ve collapsed into your shoulder, crying out as he peaked. He tumbled over the edge of orgasm with a loud, drawn out moan as you wrapped your hand around his cock. As you stroked him to completion, he whimpered and melted under your touch, cum splattering across your stomach in a vulgar display of love.
You, however, weren’t done. You were getting closer, every thrust becoming a monumental hurdle. He was no longer grinding against you, as exhausted as he was, so you were fucking up into him at your best pace. As you inched closer, you hesitated, whispering into his ear. “Can I… finish-” He interrupted quickly, exhaustion fading under a burst of excitement. “Inside, my dear, inside of me. I want your cum inside of me…” Your response was swift, firmly clashing lips together as you held his hips and thrusted up into him as fast as you could. You brought yourself to your climax quickly, holding him down on you as you filled his hole with a nice, thick creampie.
You crumpled back onto the bed, Elliot falling with you as exhaustion took its toll. You were sticky, tired, and covered in cum. You were also in a state of absolute bliss, holding your lover tight in your arms as the both of you recovered. He held you just the same, whispering praises and affirmations into your ear as he tried to regain strength in his legs. It was his suggestion that the both of you get in the bath, one that you quickly agreed to. Slowly, (with slightly unsteady legs on Elliot’s part) a warm bath had been set and soaped up, bubbles overflowing onto the bathroom floor.
You laid there, in that warm bath, Elliot resting against your chest as the rest of your muscles relaxed. Holding his waist, you let your face fall into his hair. It wasn’t wet yet, but just as soft as it had always been. You held the love of your life in his arms, a smile running across your face as you thought of the next time he might have such a lustful case of writer’s block.
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hi!!! can i ask for prompt 4?? love u 💞💞
''stop looking at me like that''
summary ❥: when you catch feelings for derek, you distance yourself in hopes that he will leave you alone so you can get over this crush. he does no such thing.
“do you want to come back to the loft after this?” he asks me, hope in his eyes that i might say yes. my heart screams yes, my head says no. i gulp, turning my face away from him as i say, “i’m sorry, i have a lot of studying to do” i reply, trying to act unbothered and natural. his eyes drop down to the table as he nods, “okay” with a lace of sadness in his voice.
my heart breaks, wanting nothing more than to go back to the loft and have one of our weekly movie nights. derek and i have been really close for over a year now, i called him my best friend. everything was perfect, he was perfect. he still is perfect. but that’s the problem. i had to be so stupid, and catch some stupidly strong feelings for him. knowing he only sees me as his best friend, i have to keep away from him to be able to get over these feelings.
just when i think i’m making progress, i see him again and all of those feelings flood back. so the thought of spending time alone with him freaks me out, knowing my feelings will only get stronger and stronger for him. i may even be in love with him. no. i can’t say that, it’s just a crush. it will go away.
focusing my attention back onto scott, i can feel dereks stare on my back. i take a deep breath, ignoring that feeling and ignoring his gaze. any normal person would just confess their feelings, and if they don’t feel the same way back, they get over it. but i can’t do that, because i won’t be able to even be in the same room as him if he rejects me.
scott finishes up his inspirational speech, meaning everyone started to pile out of the animal clinic. i start the small walk to my car, feeling somebody behind me. i turn my head quickly, looking at my follower.
of course. derek.
“you okay?” i say, fiddling with my thumbs.
“why do you all of a sudden not want to spend time with me? did i do something?” he spits out, a stressed look on his face. i cross my arms to protect myself, “you didn’t do anything. i’m just busy” i lied. well half lied. it’s not his fault i have these feelings. well maybe it is, because he’s too charming for his own good.
“do you forget that i can tell when you’re lying? we’ve been best friends for years, i don’t need supernatural hearing to know when you’re lying” he states, stepping closer to me.
i step back. “just leave me alone, derek. i’m fine” i say quickly, turning around and rushing to my car with tears welling up in my eyes. locking the doors, i sit in my car and cover my face. sniffling, i wipe my eyes and start the engine. driving past, derek eyes are on mine from his car, his brows furrowed and his eyes soft. he never liked when i cried, so i forced him a smile and sped off to my house.
❥❥❥❥❥❥❥
i place my laptop beside me on the bed, with a sigh. when i told derek i was studying, i wasn’t lying. i just finished up a 3 hour studying session and my head is throbbing. i turned up the volume on my tv, playing ‘friends’ my all time favourite comfort show.
i’ve never felt more empty than i do tonight. knowing that i could be with derek at his loft, in my happy, safe place. but instead i’m here, wallowing in my own feelings and misery. i’ve never felt this way about someone, ever. knowing i am going to lose him either way is more painful than i could’ve imagined.
i was brought out of my thoughts from a knock on my window. i furrowed my eyebrows, turning my head over to look outside. and there he is. propped up on the roof outside, tapping on my window as i slowly walked over. i sigh, opening the window.
“can i come in?” he asks, and my mind says to say no. tell him to leave.
“okay” i say, listening to my heart finally.
he climbs through the window, walking over and sitting on the edge of my bed as i shut the window and curtains again. ‘please talk to me’ he starts, with a pleading look on his face.
my arms fall from their cross over my chest as i let out a defeated sigh. i probably should just do it. i might feel better after admitting them to him.
‘look, i have a reason why i can’t spend time with you anymore. and if i tell you, i don’t even think you’ll want to spend time with me’ i say, with a glance at my feet.
‘you know nothing would ever make that happen for me, beautiful’ he says, clenching my heart.
‘i think it would, which is why i’m afraid to tell you in case the whole friendship gets ruined’ i say shyly, twisting my ring around my finger.
‘either way it’s ruined. if i leave now and we don’t talk about this, it’s ruined. so you might as well just tell me, and who knows, maybe i feel the same’ he says with the slightest smirk on his lips. i narrow my eyes at him, red tinting over my cheeks and nose.
‘what do you mean?’ i say, barely above a whisper.
‘i said,’ he starts, scooting closer to me on the edge of the bed, ‘maybe i feel the same’.
i gulp, suddenly aware of how close our faces are. he looks handsome tonight. he’s in all black, his hair a little messy over his forehead, green eyes a little red from the cold air.
‘stop looking at me like that’ he mumble with a small smile. i blush again.
‘why?’ i say back.
‘because it’s making me want to kiss you’ he admits, a small pink blush covering his cheeks. i made derek hale blush.
‘i wouldn’t stop you’ i manage to gain enough confidence to get that out.
he turns to me more, his hands gripping my hips and pulls me closer to him. his head starts to duck down to me, his pretty eyes fluttering shut. my hands move up to rest on his face, thumbs resting just on his cheekbones and my palms rested on his jawline.
i close the gap between us, lips parting as they touch but closing as they do touch. ohmygod. his lips are like velvet, soft and gentle. one of his hands trails up my back a little to pull me impossibly closer to him. i hum against his lips, hands wrapping around his neck.
my heart is beating faster than ever before. my face feels hot and i feel light headed. i’ve never felt this way with anyone before over a kiss.
he eventually pulls back for some air, resting his warm forehead onto mine as we catch our breath with giddy smiles on our faces.
‘if you couldn’t tell, i like you too’ he grins, pressing a small, chaste kiss to my forehead.
‘how did you know i like you?’ i asked, as his hands move from my wait to grip my own and interlock our fingers. he looks away for a second with a weird look on his face, ‘well i kind of had a talk with lydia’ he admits, side eyeing me as i furrowed my eyebrows.
‘the only reason she told me was because she knew i liked you too. she told me to come over and just do this, aren’t you glad she did?’ he says with a small smile, causing me to nod.
‘of course i’m glad’ i giggle. he pulls me closer again, hands looking behind my back, pressing another small kiss to my lips.
“so, does this mean i can call you my girlfriend?” he smirks. i go red, nodding embarrassingly quickly at him.
“hm. good” he kisses me again.
———————
a little random fic whilst i work through my inbox. thankyou for all the requests. i love you guys and i missed this.
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following this story on twitter of a person whose cat very unfortunately had a severe reaction to general anesthesia (10 minute cardiac event) that may be left permanently blind but the owner is livetweeting being very..not a good client about it
it's very tragic but anesthesia is never zero risk for animals or humans. you can have the most qualified doctor with the gold standard of care and bad outcomes can still happen, it's not malpractice or negligence. she's going on about lawyering up, getting the vet fired, calling the vet a bitch, and sharing photos of the clinic. ma'am you will be very very lucky if that practice or any in the general area who've witnessed your tantrum takes on you and your cat again.
be thankful those doctors resusd your cat after TEN MINUTES of cardiac arrest, that is very lucky and shows the opposite of negligence. and ofc they don't know shit about its prognosis, its been less than 24 hours it would be irresponsible if they DID confidently tell you the prognosis. i know this is likely one of the worst days of her life but this is not the way..
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