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retroellie · 5 days

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Little black dress

Summary: After wearing a little black dress that gave nothing to the imagination, Daryl decides to drag you to the bathroom and remind you who you belong too.

A/N: It's been awhile y'all! Omfg, I have been so busy writing a book that started out as a passion project but now I'm like really into it lol. But this is filth, and honestly took me 6 days to write no mf joke. It didn't really read through it so it might be messy lol, anyways miss y'all!! enjoyyy <3 (also it is so fucking long, omfg...I'm used to writing long chapters in my book HKAHKSHFJA)

Warnings: Sexual harassment, public sex, face fucking, unprotected sex, BDSM, mentions of SA (kinda?), just men being gross tbh, dirty talk

Word count: 13.7K

It had been years since you actually had to worry about what you were wearing, even longer since you had to dress presentable. But here you were, caressing every inch of your body trying to decide if your short black dress was "presentable" or plain slutty. You were teetering towards plain slutty, the way it hugged your curves slightly... showed a bit too much of your scared-up legs, you're breast perking to attention as if they were made just for it.

You examined your body, wondering what everyone would say if you showed up to something so classy wearing this. The dress code was nothing special, "Halloween costumes and formal!" the flyer said. You had nothing that would be considered either of those, maybe you're old bloodied shirts from before the commonwealth... you could dress like a walker. However, you had to look approachable... as if you were a reporter of some sorts.

You sigh softly, brushing your hair from your face as you exited the bathroom. You don't even know why you cared so much, it's not like you actually wanted to go to this stupid ball. You were only going because you were helping Connie out with her story. You promised her that you would talk to some people there, and write down their opinions of the commonwealth. You told her you would look presentable and approachable, something you didn't look very often.

"Plain slutty" wasn't a bad thing, before the fall you would dress that way on a night out anyway... But you weren't who you were back then. You didn't want all the male or female attention, especially in a new town like this. They would whisper, they would gossip... no matter how pretty you looked in your cheap dress, you knew they would be merciless.

You walked to yours and Daryl's shared room, grabbing your bag you've had since the fall... it didn't match the outfit at all but you needed something to remind you who you actually were. You placed the bag on your shoulder, turning around only for your attention to be drawn to something shiny on your bed. Your husband's knife...

"At least Daryl will be there." You thought to yourself, biting your lip softly as you stared down at the knife. This new life has been a fairytale almost, almost like the entire apocalypse thing never actually happened... like you and Daryl were just a normal married couple with normal problems. It was so weird worrying about small things again, like what you were going to wear for this stupid masquerade ball.

You two had been "married" since you became a part of the commonwealth. It was strange, especially since everyone called you "Mrs. Dixon". You had been with Daryl for around 7 years, but you weren't married. However, when coming to the commonwealth there was an option for you two to be married "legally". You couldn't help but laugh when they brought it up, there was no government, and there was no "marriage" anymore. They were dead serious though, looking as if you were crazy when you laughed in their face. But you signed the papers basically stating yours and Daryl's "marriage"... so now you guys just are.

Daryl was a security guard at the ball, leaving much earlier than you to go do his job, so he had yet to see the way the dress showed off what was his. Suddenly your mind went another way, remembering the last time you wore a low-cut shirt or too short shorts... It was a decision that had you wobbling for 3 days, kiss bitten down to your calves and completely fucked. You blushed at the thought of it, hoping you could get through the night without Daryl scolding you for the too-short dress. Maybe you wanted that... maybe you wanted to tease him.

Daryl was completely comfortable in the relationship, he had no real problem with you showing your body off sometimes. But if anyone knew how a man could think, it would be Daryl. He knew the disgusting thoughts that would go through a man's mind when they saw a woman's upper leg... He knew just how they could spin that to make it sexually gratifying. It made him sick to his stomach knowing what men think when they see you... he fucks his anger out, hard and fast just like how those men think they can do to you... only he's the one doing it.

You shook the thought away from your head, making your way down the hallway of your dingy apartment. You realized how sad and depressing your apartment was, you made a mental note to get some art or posters to hang up... you needed to make this apartment into a home, or at least something ya'll feel safe coming home to. You passed by Judith and Rj's room, peeking in to make sure everything was in check... "in check" meant there was no one or thing hidden within it. The fall had done that to you, made you cautious, and made you the type of person to make sure each room was clear before leaving. Even though you personally went through every inch of the house trying to find RJ's hat just this morning... you just had to make sure there were no changes.

You finally were able to leave the apartment after making sure the door was locked 4 times. It was a short walk to the ball, about a 7-minute walk, but with heels on it was 15 minutes. You were never much of a heel walker before the fall, you envied women who could... but you never got that walk down. You would have killed to look so classy in heels, but you never got that kind of feminine gene. So you took it slow, walking with caution as you brought down your foot for each step. You looked stupid, maybe even drunk to some of the passersby.

You finally made it though, only 10 minutes late... but you found Connie and Kelly waiting for you at the entrance. You gave them a small smile, wobbling over to them. You were super close with Kelly and Connie, ever since they stepped foot in Alexandria... you guys were insufferable. So it didn't come as a surprise for Connie to come to you first when she needed help gathering "stories", which really meant gathering dirt about Pamela. You were more than happy to do it, it was something to get you out of the house and even landed you getting an invite to the most talked-about party of the year.

As you wobbled to the 2 women, it seemed as if you took them off guard for a second, completely unrecognizable as they didn't know who you were. It wasn't until you got closer that they saw who you were.

"Y/n?" Kelly asked, almost in disbelief that you could get all dolled up like that. "Jesus I could hardly recognize you with all that... boob."

You looked down at your figure, seeing just how different it was from your usual attire. It was strange being this... naked. You started to feel a bit uncomfortable, almost nauseous as you looked down at your heels. You weren't used to attention, you were but you weren't. You are not the ugliest person out there and you know that, people seemed to think quite the opposite which you didn't really agree with. You would catch people looking at your ass while walking past them or catching a feel of your breast while hiding from hoards.

You were no stranger to that attention, hell that's even how you and Daryl became what you were. Daryl couldn't keep his eyes off your hips and your lumps... that's the only attention you wanted though. The rest of them, it didn't matter to you. You could live without it, you were over wanting that attention just to validate yourself... that was in the past for you.

"what? Is it too much?" You asked, pulling your dress up just for it to almost flash your ass to the world, causing you to pull it back down just for your boobs to pop out again. There was no winning in the dress.

You searched both of the women's faces, hoping they would say all they needed to say. Kelly's eyes were focused on your face, probably noticing the cat-eye look you were trying to do... which used to be your specialty, but now you're out of practice. She was probably not used to seeing your lips so red as well, which that part is what you were most proud of simply because you made the mix yourself. You wondered what she was thinking, maybe you should run home and put on some normal clothes. Maybe this was a bad idea and you should have just stayed home. Connie brought a hand to your arm, bringing you back to reality.

"No! You look beautiful." She signed, making you feel a bit better. "Thank you for helping Y/n."

All of your worries slowly melted away just by this gesture, making you relax a bit. As said before, Connie was one of your best friends, you even learned sign language from her. Ever since you met her, she was always so gentle with you. No one really understood your insecurities or your panic attacks or the reason why you were so damn quiet all the time... but Connie did. She read you like a book, you hated it... but it was nice to know that someone could. Especially someone like Connie who would speak up for you if you needed her to. She knew you could never stand up for yourself.

You just gave her a small smile, nodding your head basically telling her that you were okay and you could do this. It was just for a night and you've taken out hordes, you've bashed a man's head in with his own leg bone before... you can take a night in a skimpy dress, you can take the attention it will give you. Plus Daryl was there, he would kill a man for touching you if he needed to and he has before. So you felt more than comfortable walking into that door and forcing stories out of men to get dirt on their leader.

"Yeah, well I'm your girl when you need to get information out of a man." You said, trying to lighten up the mood even if you were the one who needed some lightening up. "All you need is a small waist and huge knockers, Take notes ladies."

Connie and Kelly both let out laughs, boosting your confidence a bit. You smiled softly at their laughs, looking at the doors and seeing how crowded they were getting. Women in big dresses and men with fancy little tuxedos made their way into the double doors, Some were even wearing their own handmade Halloween costumes. They all were trying to get into the door, only to be met with the security who had to pat them down for weapons and whatnot. You once again felt a wave of relief, knowing you weren't the only ridiculous-looking one there. You suddenly were so thankful for it being Halloween. You sighed softly, putting your smile back on as you looked back at Kelly and Connie.

"We should probably get in before the line gets too long." You spoke, signing as you did so.

You all made your way to the double doors, Connie's hand on your arm as a way to make sure that you knew she was there with you. You appreciated it, this was a big crowd of actual people and you weren't used to that... especially with live people. You knew this night was going to suck, you were probably going to be a nervous wreck by the end of it. But at least there will be alcohol.

“But seriously, Y/N…” Kelly’s voice cut through your distraction, drawing you away from the parade of ridiculous-looking rich people. Her eyes were fixed on you, a playful suspicion lacing her tone. “You don’t strike me as the type to pull off this kind of glam… were you some kind of model or something?"

You just let out a soft laugh, walking up the stairs to the soft light illuminating the doors. You couldn't help but let your mind linger on your past. It wasn't something you were proud of that's for sure, you were a mess. You were freshly out of high school, going to college away from home so it was pretty much guaranteed that you would be doing something you would grow to regret. You would do it all... men, women, drugs, alcohol, partying until the crack ass of dawn.

It was a time in your life that was so confusing and being around people who were half your age, you weren't sure what was right and what was wrong. That phase lasted until you found Daryl, suddenly something inside you switched. He was nothing but soft and gentle with you, at least as soft and gentle as he could be. You meant something to him and that's when you realized that you weren't some drunk college girl that men and women could tear down for their own pleasure. You were someone, and that was enough.

There had been countless nights where Daryl had to carve that fact onto your skin, kiss your soft lips until you could say nothing but who you were, fuck it into you. You had lots to work on, Daryl did too... that's what made you two such a power couple. You worked on your shit together, made sure the other knew where they stood in life... who they were and who they weren't even though multiple untrue things have been drilled into your heads. You let the thought wander through your head before coming back to the moment.

"I am full of surprises." You joke back. You knew you could tell her what you really were back then, you're confused and you're hurt... but you left it at that.

The night went too slow for your liking, not even halfway through the night you were at your limit with men and you were ready to go home. As you sat at the bar, sipping on some fruity drink one of many men had bought for you, you pulled out your notepad from your dirty bag. It was almost empty, only 3 stories collected simply because the men were too focused on the way your dress laid against your breast. You swore you talked to almost 20 men tonight and only 3 of them actually had the decency to keep their eyes to themselves and answer your questions.

Most of the men didn't want to hear you talk, they just wanted to undress you with their eyes. You gagged at the thought every single time, even more disgusted by how some of them thought it was their right to put their hands on you. You could still feel a hand on the small of your back or placed softly on your hip. This dress started to feel like not a good idea and you should have caved into your desire to change into something different. You will say, that at least a lot of the men bought you drinks... you could have only gotten through this night with "Sex on the Beach" and "Strawberry Daiquiri". You would much rather have whiskey if you were being honest, you had been hanging out with Daryl too much.

You started to read through the notes you wrote down, jotting down some keywords in their stories so Connie could rearrange them for her story against Pamela. You were almost halfway through the second story and your 3rd Strawberry Daiquiri when you felt a hand on the small of your back once more.

"My, my... ya here all by yourself sweetheart?" You heard a deep voice say, you could almost feel their breath on your neck.

You jumped at the sudden touching, yelping as you turned around in the spinny bar chair. You were ready to swing on the perpetrator, you were too frustrated and grossed out to have another man try to get into your pants tonight. You lifted your hand up, ready to slap the shit out of the man... only for your hand to fall back down as soon as it went up.

It was Daryl. His shit-eating grin spread on his face as he chuckled softly at your sudden burst of violence. Little does he know, he's not the only guy tonight to say those same words and touch the same spot just above your ass. You would probably tell him later, but for now, you kept it to yourself... you knew he'd be furious, probably dragging you to the bathroom and fucking you till you couldn't walk properly anymore. The more you think about it, the more you want that to happen.

You sighed softly, closing your eyes softly and leaning against the bar. You were so glad to see him though, you hadn't seen him all night. You tried looking but you were far too busy trying not to get groped by old men or beat up by their wives. You knew this night would have been 100% better if you found Daryl earlier, he would have really made the night somewhat fun or maybe at least been your bodyguard.

"Not alone... My deadbeat husband is somewhere around here." You joke, turning back around to face your notes.

You could hear Daryl chuckle behind you, he set himself between you and the empty chair next to him. He looked down at your notes and your 3 empty cups, he knew these were not your first and definitely not your last drinks of the night... then his eyes trailed down to your dress. You had told him you would be here and what you were doing here, but he didn't know just how you were going to show up. The dress was going to get you in trouble, especially with the way that it caused Daryl's pants to tighten.

His eyes drifted down your body, the sight of your almost bare breast made him almost choke on his own tongue. Daryl watched as you brought the last bit of drink from one of your cups, watching you slurp it down. He let out a soft cough, clearing his throat as if it would clear the thoughts of what those lips could do.

"Deadbeat, huh?" he started, watching you bring the cup back down to the bar counter. You licked your lips, getting every ounce of the alcohol from it. "Well then, your deadbeat husband should be ashamed of letting you go out in something like that."

He brought his hand up to touch the fabric of it softly, placing his hand on your hip and giving it a soft squeeze. You tried to stay up straight, even if the alcohol was creating a glorious feeling between your legs that made you feel like you could melt into his touch. Even the smallest of gestures from Daryl could have you at his feet, just the tiniest softest touch could create a fire deep within you. You were feeling bold tonight though, maybe it was just the 7 drinks you had but something within you burned with the need to be devoured.

You bit your lip softly, feeling the loose skin that resided there. You looked up to him, eyes full of lust. Daryl couldn't help but feel the same kind of fire erupts in the pits of his stomach. Your glazed-over eyes, the smell of the pure alcohol that he knew was affecting your ability to think, the way the black dress was still on you even though he wanted it off. You leaned in close to him, his hand still wrapped around your hip softly.

"if only he was here to put me in my place." You spoke, words flowing off your tongue like honey.

Daryl let out a soft breath, his clothes suddenly feeling so constricting against his skin. He never knew all he needed to do was get a couple of fruity drinks in your system for you to be so... feral. It made all the blood in his body rush straight to his cock, making the head of it rub up against his jeans so uncomfortably. You were everything but a perfect angel... you knew how to talk dirty, you knew how to get Daryl's cock up and ready to pound into the first hole he could get to. But something about the way your tits looked in your dress and every single man wanting to tear you apart with their bare teeth... and yet you only wanted Daryl to fuck you in the ways only these men can dream.

Daryl looked around, being sure of his surroundings before making any stupid decision he knew he would make with you. No one was paying any attention to him... some of the men you talked to earlier were still trying to catch a peak, hoping that maybe your thighs would spread wide enough so they could see just in between them. So they could store it in their minds and use it for spank material when they need a little push. That made Daryl's breath get heavy, hands shaking slightly on your hip as you leaned closer into him... he could smell a hint of your perfume and it was giving him a slight high.

Daryl looked back down at you, seeing your soft stare... watching your eyes move down his body and then back up to his eyes. Daryl placed a hand on your cheek, rubbing it softly as he debated on dragging you somewhere more private. His lips ached, his cock already leaking with need... if anything could make daryl dixon be reckless, it was you. He almost gave into you, almost engulfed your lips with his, and made you whimper... made you his in front of everyone. However, something caught his eye... his abandoned post.

He was supposed to be guarding the door, making sure no one else came in, and making sure everyone was on their best behavior. Rosita was there, on one side of the door as she too watched the dance floor. He had a job to do, a very important one that would have you both moving up in life if he did it right. He shouldn't even have left in the first place, but something about the way your thighs looked from afar... he found himself stalking towards you just to get a better look at them. He let out a soft smile, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before he retracted away from you.

"Ya look beautiful sweetheart..." He said simply, giving your body one last glance before stepping away from you completely. He could feel your energy fall slightly as you groaned at the loss of warmth... your dress did nothing to cover you up, so his warmth was appreciated. "I gotta go do my job, I just wanted to see you before I got too busy."

You wanted to pout, you wanted to kick your feet and scream like a child... that's how drunk you were, you would beg for him if he wanted you to. You didn't find that fair that Daryl could get you going, put his hands on you, and warm you up just to pull away like it was nothing. You were too drunk, too cock starved, too horny to let him leave you like this. Your legs were wobbling already, you're cunt throbbed and every time you would move your legs it would create irritating friction that you wish were from his fingers. You sighed softly, not done with this just yet...

"Well that's too bad..." You said, hopping down from the bar stool. Your dress came up a little too high, showing just below your ass. You pulled it down, which once again caused your breasts to pop out... but this time you wanted them too. You watched as his eyes focused on them. "I'm wearing my best panties... I was really hoping someone could help me put them to use."

You sighed dramatically, grabbing your bag and throwing it over your shoulder. Daryl gulped back a comeback because there was nothing good that was going to come out of his mouth. He was torn between two nasty names.... some of the most degrading names he could think of. All he wanted to do was slam you against the bar counter, tell you how fucking slutty and how much of a fucking whore you were... 2 things he knew you loved, he knew it made you weak in your knees just thinking about it. But he had to keep it cool, y'all were in public and he would like to keep those names between the two of you.

You stepped up to him, looking down at his obvious erection... you smirked to yourself knowing just by your words you did that. You looked back up to his eyes, reaching up to adjust the buttons on his shirt and patting his shirt down. You could tell just by his eyes what he was planning on doing to you, you could tell you were in trouble. You leaned up to his ear, standing on your tiptoes just to make sure he was the only one to hear.

"I will be in the men's bathroom if you need me..." You whispered, pecking his cheek with your lips just as he did to you. You swear you could see his eyes twitch, his anger rising within him as you teased him softly. You gave him a soft smile. "I hope to see you soon, Mr. Dixon."

You said, teasing him even further and not giving him any time to even react to your words before you walked away. You could feel some eyes on you as you walked away, except they weren't Daryls... they were the countless men that weren't Daryl, their eyes boring into your skin but you paid no attention... they weren't your target audience right now.

You were able to slip into the men's bathroom without anyone noticing, which was tricky since every man and women's eyes were on you the entirety of the night. You knew you would get some attention but the amount you got was overwhelming... you forget sometimes that a lot of these people have been in the commonwealth since the fall, most never experiencing the horrors just outside of their walls. So when a woman who is covered in scars speaks so confidently to them, it is intriguing. Not to mention the way your body curves, how it dips and stands out so perfectly. Not a lot of women in the commonwealth have that kind of "fighting for your life" kind of body type.

You open the door to the men's bathroom, slipping in before anyone notices you even did. You choose the men's bathroom simply because you knew it would be easier for Daryl to slip into and away from his post for a bit, allowing him some time to fuck the shit out of you. Luckily the bathroom was empty but you didn't spend too much time making sure since you knew someone could walk in at any minute, so you entered one of the stalls and locked it.

The bathroom was one of those nice ones you see in fancy restaurants, the stalls were almost like little rooms that only held a toilet and a trash can. The walls surrounding the toilet were painted a cream color and went all the way to the ceiling down to the floor. These were the types of bathrooms that were perfect for fucking if you're being honest, I mean the privacy... it was almost as if they were made for horny couples who need to let some steam off.

You sat on the toilet, imagining all the possibilities and positions you could find yourself in the small confinement of the 3 walls and door. Your eyes locked themselves on the door which was the only "stall-like" thing in the small area. There was a large gap between the door and the floor, making it so you were able to see the shoes of people who walked by. Luckily you could see none, but the anticipation of seeing those black boots with the mix-match shoe laces... Jesus, you hoped he would come, you didn't even give him time to answer.

In this moment, the anticipation and the hope you don't get caught brought you back to when you and Daryl started seeing each other. while on runs or even around the small time you and the group were on the road... Daryl would get sexually frustrated from watching you, his cock rock hard and eventually he couldn't take it anymore. He would grab your shoulder, bringing his mouth as close to your ear as he could... growling into it that he needed you, ordering you to go to a secluded area and "wait like a good girl" for him. You were so needy for him that you did exactly that, sometimes waiting an hour before he showed up and fucked you into the dirty ground.

That was around the time when your relationship was kept hidden, Daryl's choice. He told you it was because of the 15-year age gap between the two of you, he was worried about the things that would be said about the two of you. It was strange for a 37-year-old man to be romantically involved with a 22-year-old. But deep down you didn't believe his words, you subconsciously knew it was because he didn't want to get close to you. He had this thing with trust, so it came natural for him not to want to trust you at first... he was okay with just fucking you and leaving you limp on the forest floor. However, somehow along the way... he fell so deeply and utterly in love with you, that now he feels ashamed if he has to hide you.

Suddenly, you were pulled from your thoughts when the bathroom door opened. A slight tingle made its way through your body and it wasn't the good kind. You placed your feet on the toilet along with your body, hoping the person didn't see your high heels, and called security to come to escort the woman in the men's bathroom out of the ball... that would be embarrassing. You heard the person's heavy footsteps, not able to see their shoes because of the walls of the small bathroom covering your view. You held your breath, trying to keep yourself quiet as the person made their way to the stalls.

You listened closely to the steps, hearing them walk closer and closer to your stall. Questions filled your mind, did someone see me come in here? Is it one of the men who now thinks this is his chance? Am I completely fucked and was this a bad idea? Fortunately, it didn't take too long for your questions to be answered because when the two heavy-duty work boots with the mix-match shoe laces appeared between the gap of the floor... your body relaxed slightly.

You chuckled softly at your worry, realizing how fucked the fall actually left you. You were expecting Daryl yet your mind went to the worst that could happen... Jesus, hopefully, the commonwealth will ease your paranoia.

Knock

knock

Those three knocks were too familiar to you. It was the knock you and Daryl used when hunting or when you holed up in a random cabin for the night... it was just a way for you two to say "Hey it's me. You're safe.". You smiled softly, standing from the toilet and wasting no time in opening the stall door. The stall door opened to reveal your angry-looking husband, he did not look too happy about the fact he had to fuck some sense into you while he had to do actually important things, like make a living for you two. You couldn't help but laugh softly at his face, how angry he looked... you were feeling the buzz of the alcohol throughout your body and it was hitting hard. You leaned yourself against the door frame, making sure your hips stood out as you did so.

"Mr. Dixon!" You exclaimed, almost as if you weren't waiting like a little dog would for its owner... You placed a hand on your hip, head laying against the door frame. "I didn't expect to see..."

You couldn't even get your words out before Daryl pushed you into the stall, shutting and locking the door behind him. He pushed you against the stall door, attacking your neck roughly. The warmth spread across your body, your body going limp for only a second before you threw your head back onto the stall door you were pushed against.

"Shut up..." He whispered into your neck, biting and sucking at your soft spots. He wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you in place as he worked his mouth on your neck.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, trying your best to stay up straight as he basically touched you in all the ways you craved. It was fast, very fast as he basically speed ran trying to make you as wet as he possibly could get you. You knew this was going to happen, you basically begged for it to happen... but that doesn't make you any less surprised by his sudden touch. He licked a strip up your neck, biting your ear lobe softly before going back to leaving down your neck... you knew this was his way of marking you up, making sure the mark would show so pretty on your neck in your black dress, scaring away the men's attention.

His kisses led down to your chest, leaving bite marks here and there as he did so. You could come undone from his abuse on your neck, your body arching into him as you tried so desperately to quiet your soft moans. Daryl pushed you further into the stall door before pulling your dress down, exposing your breast to him as he softly kissed down your body. He stopped his kisses, taking a moment to take in your squirming figure and how red you had gotten from just kissing. He leaned down, taking your breast in both of his hands, and squeezed them together before sucking on your already hardened nipples. It all happened so fast, making you not only drunk but also now high off sudden pleasure. Your hands went to his hair, pulling it softly as his soft sucking on your breast sent small zaps of pleasure straight to your clit.

He went back and forth between the right and the left, squeezing one while he sucked and licked the other. Your world was spinning, not sure if it was the 7 strawberry daiquiri or if it was the way his mouth felt on your tits. You could feel yourself getting so close to the edge, embarrassingly close... he barely even touched you and you were almost coming undone in your panties. You gave his hair a particular rough pull, trying to remove his mouth from your nipple... you were too close to the edge, not wanting to cum now... You didn't want to give Daryl an even bigger head than he already has when it came to making you feel good.

"Jesus... Daryl, I'm too drunk for the foreplay, just fuck me." You whispered out, your words shakey as you shivered from the cold air brushing against your now slobbered-up tits.

Daryl detached himself from you, your hands still in his hair as he did so. He tried to hide the smile from you but trust and believe the way you were begging made his own high come to him. He couldn't tell which one of you was drunk, and he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol this entire night. You leaned against the stall door, the lock from the door digging into your back. You squirm underneath his gaze, feeling his hands make their way back to your waist. Your tits are still standing to attention, red and puffy from his kisses.

You breathed heavily, looking into his lust-filled eyes as he brought his face closer to yours. You could feel his breath fan across your face, the smell of your shared toothpaste bringing memories of the nights you would have together in your small apartment... All the nights spent bent over the sink as he rammed his cock into you, praying Judith and rj were asleep, or even the days where you two just had to be with each other. So you filled the bath, lit some candles, and spent hours making out with each other... no fucking, no dry humping, no cumming onto each other. Just you two, taking in each other's presence and exchanging saliva.

"You beggin' me?" He whispered, lips hovering over yours as he spoke. You debated on reaching up, touching his lips with yours... speeding this entire thing up. But you couldn't deny you loved a long drawn-out fucking session in a fancy bathroom.

"No..." You teased, smiling up at him as you brought your face even closer. Your eyes make their rounds from his lip back to his eyes. "Simply asking for a favor."

You had a way of getting underneath Daryl's skin in the most delicious ways, with your innocent-looking eyes and your silky smooth voice. He knew better though, he knew you were far from innocent. Not only have you done things, murderous things that to this day you will never be able to repent from... but also sexual things that have the angels crying. You have allowed Daryl to fuck you on the dirty floor of an abandoned cabin while your people were only mere inches away from you. You have fucked him while covered in blood, even going as far as to cover yourself with more blood because it turned you on so much. You have asked to be held at gunpoint while you sucked his cock, asked to ride the handle of his knife, asked to be slapped in the face until your nose bleeds.

You liked pain, you loved every ounce of it and it was heartwarming that you trusted Daryl enough to be so open with these things... but it was disgusting how you did these disgusting things with such innocent eyes. However, Daryl was a sucker, because he did everything you asked him to with a smile on his face. He never knew he held such a disgusting pervert deep down inside of him until he came the hardest he ever had while fucking you by a trapped walker. Although, with age and the further you got into the relationship, you both settled down a bit. You two were so fucked for each other, you were basically cumming at the sounds or each other's names.

"Real cute... Just asking for a favor huh?" Daryl mocked, his hand running down to the top of your cunt... stopping so he could watch your squirm. He had other plans than to give you what you wanted, you guys were already fucking in a public restroom while hundreds of people were outside.. might as well go the full mile right? "Well then, you're gonna have to ask a lot better than that sweetheart. Knees."

He didn't have to say anything more than that before you were dropping to your knees. Daryl could cum from just knowing you would do anything for him in a heartbeat, especially sucking his cock when he wanted you to. You were never the type to turn down sucking his cock, you loved watching him come undone on your tongue... you even thought he looked so much more pretty at the angle.

You stared up at him with big eyes, your lips red from you biting them and your tits hanging from your dress. Daryl hummed in contentment, reaching down to wrap a hand through your hair as you looked up at him innocently. He ran a soft hand through at first, making sure you knew you were safe with him... making sure you were okay with what was happening. You nodded softly, a way for you to say "I am okay with this". He shot you a soft smile, running a hand once more through your hair to get it out of your face.

It started off so soft, it always started off so soft because you brought out this softness in Daryl... a softness he had never known he had until he met you. But it always ended up rough, because that is how Daryl loves and that is how you love it. Daryl suddenly gripped your hair, a tight grip that had you gasping and wincing. You groaned softly, chuckling softly at his sudden outburst... you knew you were about to get destroyed and in such a pretty dress.

"Want you to suck my cock..." he said, keeping hold of your hair but reaching down to the top of his pants. He unbuttoned them, almost ripping his belt off as he did so. "Gonna cum all over your pretty little face, then maybe I'll fuck that hole of yours."

You watched up at his hands as he unzipped them, pulling them down slightly so only his cock could come out. The sight of it almost had your mouth watering, not able to think coherent thoughts as you watched it twitch slightly. It was rock hard, the tip already covered in precum and flush red as it desperately craved friction. You knew your teasing left him desperate, and needy for your touch… but it’s as if you hadn’t touched him for days which was not true. You could not keep your hands to yourself around Daryl, so fucking was an everyday thing.

Daryl watched your eyes go wide at the sight of it, his grip on your hair tightened which pulled your attention away from his cock and back to his eyes. He couldn’t help but pump himself a few times, more precum dripping from the tip as he did so. You smirked at him which told him you weren’t done with your teasing.

“Is that any way to speak to your wife?” You asked, your words making his cock twitch even more. "Bet none of those men out there would ever talk to me like that..."

As said before, you had this way of getting under Daryl’s skin… and a little part of you enjoyed the way it affected him. It caused this fire within him that you were able to see from the outside, it was a small change in his demeanor, a small twitch of his eye that was probably only noticed by you. It was that small change that had you slightly terrified but completely and utterly exhilarated. That is the main purpose you teased him the way you do, just to see that small fire build up inside of him until he couldn't take it anymore and he just snapped. You were able to get him into so many dirty positions with that fire, so many nasty things just because of your teasing words.

Daryl's hands shook slightly, a slight hint of jealousy coursing through his blood. He gripped your hair harder, pulling some of it out, as he tried to stop his hand from shaking so much. He pulled you closer to his cock, causing a soft yelp to escape from you. His cock was now laying on your cheek, twitching softly.

"Well, those men don't know you like I do..." He said, pumping his cock one last time before setting his hand on the base of it. "They don't know my wife is a horny sex fiend who can't shut her fucking mouth... open."

You didn't have to be told twice, your mouth opening, and Daryl didn't give you any notice or any warning before he shoved his cock almost completely into your mouth. You held back a gag, feeling the head of his cock in the back of your throat already. Daryl kept your head in place, watching you fight with the urge to gag and recoil back from his cock. He can not deny how much pleasure it gave him to see you in pain, obviously the good kind of pain. The consensual pain that you allowed him to give you and enjoyed every single bit of it.

Daryl stayed still for mere seconds, allowing you to get used to the feeling of a cock in your mouth. You eventually allowed your throat to relax, looking up at him with your watery eyes as you went further down his cock. You wrapped your lips around him, staring him right in the eye as you took his entire cock in your mouth... until your nose was buried into his happy trail. Daryl almost collapsed, seeing the bulge in your throat... he could cum down your throat at this moment.

"good girl... good fucking girl." He said, trying his best to keep you like that for a couple more seconds so he could burn this image in his brain for later use.

He knew that you would be giving him that shit-eating grin that you usually give him when you get a big ego... but you couldn't since his cock was down your throat and you were loving every second of it. Once Daryl stored every single detail of how angelic you looked right now, he pulled your head back with your hair. As he pulled back your head, his slobbered-up cock was revealed... this would be another thing he would store in his mind for later.

Daryl didn't keep your head off his cock for long before he slammed your head back down on his cock, once again forcing his cock down your throat and causing you to want to gag again. You couldn't get used to it this time, you weren't able to stop yourself from gagging before Daryl pulled your head off his cock once more but like he did the last 2 times... he forced your head down on his cock once again. You couldn't help but feel your cunt flutter away as your throat was burning slightly. It was a delicious kind of burn, the taste of his cock making its way down your throat.

before you could even almost gag for a 3rd time, Daryl pulled your head away and then slammed it back down. Now his movements were quick, his cock massaging your throat as you just kept your mouth open and your lips wrapped around his cock. You dug your knees into the bathroom floor, your hand holding onto his thighs as you allowed him to use you like a literal sex toy. You felt so degraded, so disgusting... but you wanted more, you needed more. The feeling of someone walking in excited you even more, knowing that any of those men from earlier can walk in just to relieve themselves and be met with the sounds of gagging... gagging from the woman that they wished would do the same from them.

The thought of that alone, the look on their face as they realized what the gags actually were. The cold sweat that runs through their bodies, the red tint that spreads across their cheeks, the inevitable boner that pops up simply because they imagined how you looked while doing such a disgusting thing. You didn't mind someone walking in and that alone left a sense of shame within your stomach, you begged for it really. You knew it could lead to Daryl losing his job, knowing how they would look down on him because he left the partygoers he was supposed to be protecting so he could get a blowjob from his wife in the bathroom. But you would risk it all. The sudden burst of shame and excitement and complete lust caused you to bob your head along with Daryl's hands. Setting your hands on his ass so you could force him into your throat yourself.

"God... fuck, such a fucking whore huh?" Daryl moaned, keeping his hand entwined with your hair. He looked down at you, watching you work his cock in and out of your throat like it was nothing... your slobber dripping from every crevice of your mouth and onto your already spit-covered tits. "Ya like my cock in your mouth, the only thing you're good for huh?"

The degradation of it only made you speed up your movement, the sounds of your choking and gagging filling the air completely. You kept your eyes on Daryl, watching as he finally pulled his attention away from you and lost himself to the feeling. He threw his head back, eyes fluttering closed as he tried to steady his breathing. You looked up at him like he was some kind of god and in this moment... he was to you. You would have licked the floor he walked on if he asked you, in this moment and in any. Daryl was the closest thing to god you have ever believed in, because how can someone so fucking perfect be real? He must have been made from everything good in the world, like candy or fresh laundry.

You got too ahead of yourself, feeling Daryl pull your head back roughly as your rhythm becomes too sporadic, too messy. Daryl pulled your head completely off his cock, a string of salvia was now the only thing connecting you and him now. Your throat burned, it ached as you coughed softly... trying to catch your breath as you waited for what he was going to do next. When Daryl was in these moods when the fire sparked within him, he was unpredictable and that made your liquids leak from your cunt.

Daryl had a plan to destroy you completely and he was going to go through with it. You weren't going to be able to talk to another man without thinking of what Daryl would do if he saw you... you won't be able to speak for the next few days to come, or walk, or get out of bed. He was going to completely fuck you. Daryl took the base of his cock once again, placing his cock back on your cheek... watching it cover your face in your own saliva. You chuckled softly, closing your eyes as his cock drenched your face with spit. That soft chuckle made Daryl's blood heat up again, he didn't want you to laugh... he wanted you to beg for his mercy, cry so hard that you could barely speak, he wanted you to be a ruined puddle on the floor.

"Sit on your butt, head against the wall." He demanded, pulling your hair back and giving your face a harsh slap as a way to tell you that you would regret it if you didn't.

You did what you were told, sitting flat down on the floor and laying your head back on the stall wall. Daryl moved closer to the wall, so one of his hands was resting on the stall. There was only a small gap between the wall and Daryl, you between the both of them. Daryl's cock slid across your face once again, his hand pumping it softly as he made it so you were between his legs.

"Tap on my thigh if you need me to stop." He said softly, running a hand through your hair comfortingly. He was planning to destroy you, but if you genuinely needed him to stop he would in a heartbeat. "Okay?"

You nodded, repeating back a little "okay" before giving him a soft smile. You adjusted yourself so you were closer to his cock, sitting so you were face to-face with it. You were so ready... your mouth begged for it.

"Alright, sweetheart." He reached down, pulling your mouth closer to his cock as he bent his knees slightly. "All you gotta do is keep your pretty little mouth open for me alright?"

You nodded, opening your mouth once more. Daryl smiles, watching you so eagerly waiting for him. He let you catch your breath for a few more seconds, not wanting to completely overwhelm you all at once. But before you knew it, Daryl's cock was back in your mouth... his thrusts started slow. He allowed you to get adjusted to his cock once more, choking slightly as it hit the very back of your throat.

He didn’t wait too long though, after a few soft thrusts he didn’t go so nice on you. His thrusts became rough and fast, his cock slipping in and out of your throat, making your head almost bang into the stall every single time. As his cock assaulted your throat, hand wrapped in your hair as he used it as a way to keep your head back so he could fuck your throat until it ached, he imagined the way the men looked at you.

He saw you from afar all night long, watching you closely as you collected your stories. You pulled your dress down throughout the night, your tits looked heavenly under the softly yellow light. Then you would pull your dress up, revealing skin inches away from your lace black underwear. It was almost as if you were playing with him, making him a hot mess at his post. Then there were the men, all looking everywhere but your eyes... trailing down to the necklace he had found for you, but not staying there very long before looking directly at your tits. They had no shame, they slowly undressed you with their eyes and you knew it.

His thrust became even faster, your nails digging into his thighs and your eyes watered... Your choking and gagging only egged him on more as he violently banged your head into the wall. You loved every second of his abuse, throat throbbing and raw but so was your cunt. You were clenching around nothing, rubbing your thighs together to get some kind of friction. You would even go as far as to say... you were just as close as Daryl. You could cum from the sight of him alone, that's all you needed for your cunt to feel satisfied.

You could sense his orgasm nearing, his moans started to intertwine with your gagging and choking. He had to keep his hand on the wall to balance himself as his legs started to shake violently, thrust getting messy as you started to lick the vein of his cock so softly with what control you had, his hand gripping your hair roughly. If his cock wasn't in your mouth right now, fucking your throat till it bled... you would be begging him to cum down your throat, wanting to taste his salty seed as he came undone from fucking your face.

"So fucking close baby... so close." He groaned softly, trying to keep his voice below a whisper but the feeling of your velvet throat made him lose control of his own voice. "gonna fucking cum."

You hollow your cheeks, closing your lips around his cock and running your tongue down his shaft. You could feel his cock twitch on your tongue, basically begging to cum. Daryl continued his fast, rough thrust... the knot in his stomach was thrust away from bursting and you did everything in your power to send him over the edge, you craved to see the way his face contorted into pleasure as he came... how his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth opening into a slight O shape, his entire body shaking softly.

Suddenly, just before his breaking point, Daryl pulled his cock out of your mouth. You couldn't help but whine softly at this action, your throat needing to feel his warm cum slide down it. Daryl took his cock in his hand, pumping it at the same pace he was fucking your throat. It only took him a good 3 or 4 pumps before hot strings of cum shot out of his cock, landing directly on you. He milked his cock, watching as it spurted on your cheeks, your nose, almost into your eye but you closed them before it could.

"Fuck..." He let out, huffing as he leaned against the wall... his cock still in his hand as it twitched, almost overstimulated now.

You stayed underneath him, your cunt throbbing in your panties. You were sticky with Daryl's cum, with your own spit, and your sweat. You felt disgusting, you felt so disgusting that not even 10 showers could wash away this feeling... this degrading, embarrassed feeling. But somehow, your cunt still screamed for Daryl's abuse. You looked up at Daryl, his cum now dripping from your face as you did so. He looked so tired, so out of it as his orgasm still sent soft shocks down to his cock. You've noticed as he's gotten older that he has had to take more time to recover from his orgasms, it really takes it out of him.

You remembered when you first started fucking him, Daryl wore you out before he could even think about stopping. After every single nut, he would be hard all over again. It was heaven, but also physically draining. Now in your older age, you would much rather 2 or 3 long drawn-out rounds more than multiple quick fucks. Your and Daryl sexual relationship has come a long way, from quick fucks to long passionate, and kind of perverted sex. It was kind of sweet to you in a way, how you both experimented with each other and picked and chose what you liked and what you didn't. It was something no one in the past would have done for you, it was why you "married" Daryl in the first place.

"So beautiful..." Daryl said, pulling you out of your thoughts. He was caressing your face, wiping away his own cum while he did so.

You blushed softly, leaning into his hand... kissing the palm of it softly. Daryl was always so nice afterward, so gentle and sweet. Nothing like he used to be, so distant and cold... not even helping to clean you up. However, as sweet as this moment was... in a weird and fucked up way, your cunt still throbbed. You still needed your cunt stuffed, still needed it fucked raw to match your sore throat. So you dug deep into your chest, trying to find your voice and force out of your beaten voice box.

"Are you up for round 2 or are you gonna need some time to recover?" You teased, your voice raspy and almost barely there as your throat was quite literally broken.

Daryl couldn't help but chuckle, placing his head on the hand that was keeping him upright. Daryl was never the type of person to leave you all high and dry, even if you truly deserved it. He would always give you what you wanted, only he would give it to you over and over and over again until you begged him to stop. He loved watching you cum as much as you loved to cum, so he couldn't deny you the very thing he held dear to him.

Daryl finally was able to get his legs to stop tingling as much, pushing himself off of the stall wall. He now stood inches away from you, just needing to see you in your entirety. You were drenched in his cum, legs sprawled out and shaking on the dirty bathroom floor, your tits hanging from your dress, your hair matted to your forehead and neck... you already looked so destroyed, but you wanted more? He could never understand the pleasure you got out of being destroyed, he loved it too... but being in such degrading positions? Maybe that's why he was the one giving it to you.

He reached his hand out for you to grab it. You did it in a heartbeat, struggling to stand up but balancing on his arm as you did so. He took you softly into his arms, holding you up with one arm as he wiped more of his cum off your face. He slowly brought his knee up to your cunt, you gasped softly as it made contact with your puffy clit. You wanted to move your cunt up and down it, feeling the delicious friction it would give off... but you knew how much of a dick Daryl could be and how easily he would tease you, denying you of his actual cock.

"Old man huh?" He chuckled, still holding you close to his chest. He could feel your heartbeat in not only your chest but also your cunt that was throbbing against his knee. "I'll show you an old man."

He suddenly turned you around, shoving you into the stall door so your face was flat on it and your ass was pushed out. You yelped as he did so, feeling his hands pull your panties down... he wasn't going to take it slow with you this time, he wasn't going to ease you onto him and let you adjust yourself. No, he was going to continue to teach his lesson... make sure it was carved into your brain that what's his, is his, and if you allow another man to look at you like a hungry bear would to his prey... you'll know what happens.

Daryl pumps himself in his fist a couple of times, getting his cock hard again before lining it up to your cunt. You grabbed onto anything that you could, preparing yourself for the devious stretch that you begged for the entire time he fucked your throat. Daryl collected the slick from your dripping cunt onto his cock, making it nice and wet... as if he needed to, your own spit was still covering it. He teased your hole, putting the tip of his cock inside before dragging it down once again. He was trying to tease you, make you feel an ounce of what he felt the entire night with you prancing around in the slutty dress that was now bunched up around your waist. You subconsciously bucked back on him, trying to fit his cock inside your needy cunt... but he held your hips in place, gripping them so painfully that you could feel it throughout your entire body.

He kept this motion up for only seconds before he got tired of it, he got tired of your whines and your pleas, deciding to give you what you craved. In one swift movement, he slammed his cock inside of your wet folds, bottoming out in one thrust as he did so. This action made you moan loudly, almost screaming when you felt the sudden stretch of your cunt around his cock. Daryl revealed this noise, like it was his favorite song... making you scream from pleasure, making you feel so good you didn't care that hundreds of people were just outside of this door... some of those people being the family you have gathered along the fall.

Daryl didn't waste a second, doing the same thing to your cunt that he did with your throat... he pulled his cock all the way out before slamming it back in. You could feel his cock in your stomach, moving around your organs as if it was meant to be in there. You don't think you will ever get used to the size of his cock, because each time you both fucked you would always have to get used to the shape of him all over again... and each time it took you off guard. His cock was merciless, nails digging into your hips, cock buried so perfectly into your cunt... it was pure light.

You were so lost in pleasure, your moans just dripping from your mouth and Daryl allowed it... he was far too lost in his own pleasure to mind. You hoped that the loud music playing just outside would cover the noise and since no one had come running in to make sure you weren't being murdered yet, you felt it was doing a good job of covering up the noise. Daryl kept up his harsh thrust, one hand coming up to your hair to pull your head back so he could attack your neck. His teeth sunk into your skin, causing your body to go almost limp... balancing on Daryl's cock was the only thing keeping you upright.

He watched your eyes roll back into your head, face flush red as he pushed himself further into you as if there was any room for him to do so. He reached his hand that was placed on your hip, sliding it down to between your thighs... rubbing your bundle of nerves slowly. He knew you were close, he knew you could have gotten off his cock down your throat alone.... so he knew you wouldn't be able to hold on very long from his cock being deep inside you. He touched, licked, fucked every single spot of your that he knew would send you off the edge, he was proving pretty successful with it too.

But suddenly, all his movements stopped and so did the entire world for a second. While you were lost in your pleasure, the bathroom door was slammed open and voices now replaced your moans... engulfing the bathroom with their noise. You were too lost in your own pleasure to notice, your moans still slipping through your mouth and your hips trying to once again buck back into his. Daryl however was now in his "security/guard" mode now, reaching up with his hand to slap it around your mouth... pulling you flush to his chest. You gasped into his hand at the sudden action, eyes widening as you felt his cock dig deeper into you. Even though that was not Daryl's intention, it still caused his cock to twitch inside of you.

"Shhh." He cooed, his mouth hovering over your ear.

But how could you be quiet when Daryl's cock was so deep inside of you, how could you be quiet with how close his body was to yours, how could you be quiet when you could smell his toothpaste and the college he wore. but you obeyed, knowing that if you did then maybe you would get a mind-blowing orgasm out of it. You could hear two sets of footsteps, they sounded heavy... almost like 2 men. IT would make sense, if you were in the men's bathroom... You couldn't hear what they were talking about, you could hear them but you couldn't understand them with Daryl's cock grazing your g-stop.

Daryl peaked through the small gap between the wall and the door, watching the men through it. You could tell by the way his eyes relaxed slightly that the men had no idea you two were in here, that they were lost in their own conversation to pay any attention to the stall you two had been hidden behind. Daryl took a step back, pulling you along with him... his movement caused his cock to almost slip out of you, but him pulling you close to his made it once again thrust inside of you. You squirmed against him, his free hand keeping you still.

"Did you see that girl...uhh she had that black dress on? She was going around interviewing people about how they like the commonwealth?" One of the men said, you could hear him unzip his pants as he did so... soon after the trickling of urine could be heard.

"Dixons girl? yeah, I saw her alright." The other man said, his voice almost laced with lust.

You froze at the mention of you, more specifically how you were labeled "Dixon's girl". You had a name and you even gave it to them, fucking assholes. If it were any other time, you would correct them with a fist through the teeth and a knee to the groin... but right now, you were too occupied getting stuffed by Daryl's cock. Your senses were completely filled with Daryl, your cunt full of him... it made it hard to think any coherent thought, especially with how his cock pulsed inside of you, rubbing you from the inside softly.

"Dixons girl huh?" The other man chuckled, finishing up his business as he did so. You could feel Daryl's ego grow a bit, especially with how his hips started to move softly into yours. He got such a big head when it came to you, knowing you were his. "So what's the deal with them? I mean, she's like 20 years younger than that old fuck. Does she have daddy issues or does she just like me older?"

You would have corrected them once again, telling them that you just liked Daryl. You didn't go after him because he was older or because you lacked a father... They would probably have done the same thing with what Daryl did with his cock, how it turned you into a madwoman every time he pulled it out. You huffed into Daryl's hand, which caused him to chuckle silently. This was entertaining, to say the least, this entire situation was.

"With the way she was dressed tonight, I think maybe she's just a whore." The man said, causing your blood to go cold. "Maybe Dixon was just lucky enough to be the first guy she fucked."

You loved being degraded, you loved being called a whore, you loved being told you are nothing but a hole for a man to cum in... but only when Daryl said it. It was like when it came out of another man's mouth, it sounded so wrong and so degrading but in a not good way. Daryl had a way with his words that made it sound like pure honey, like candy dripped from his lips and you couldn't wait to get a taste. Daryl felt this too as if your genuine degradation actually affected him... like he could feel it flowing through his veins too. Daryl thrust his cock into you, trying to make you forget what they were saying, making you present with him instead of them.

"She seems like the type. " The man replied, the sink running as he said. Daryl once again thrust his cock into you, the knot in your stomach coming back. "Those outsider girls, man, I hear they let you do some weird shit to them."

One more sharp thrust from Daryl, his hand pressing harder on your mouth so they wouldn't hear your moans. He let his free hand roam down to your clit once more, rubbing it in small tight circles. To him, Daryl thought that maybe if you were too focused on your nearing orgasm, you wouldn't let the words of disgusting men get to you... he was slightly right because after that last sentence, their words turned to just background noise. You could feel yourself giving in the pleasure, you threw your head back on his shoulder, your back arching as you pressed your ass more into him so the gaps between your bodies were nonexistent.

"Damn, I might have to pay a visit to Dixons girl huh?" The man chuckled, the sound of zipping pants and water filled the air. "You think she'd take us both at the same time?"

Daryl's thrust started out as a way to comfort you in a way, but now with the venomous words these men were letting out... he was doing it out of anger, and jealousy as they talked so grossly about his wife. His thrusts were deep, and rough as he imagined what he would do to these men when he got done with you. How he'd cut off every single finger of one man's hand as the other watched. How he'd slit the throat of the man who even asked that stupid question in the first place, basking in the way his blood sprayed on him.

You took your hand and reached back to set your hands on Daryl's hips as he dug his cock so violently into your cunt. You couldn't take it anymore, your juices had dripped down your legs, now soaking the floor as you let Daryl abuse your pussy. You gave his hip a soft squeeze, a way to tell him "Keep fucking me, I'm gonna cum." He didn't slow his movement, instead, he sped up. Hacking away at the knot that was about to explode inside of your stomach.

"If she's fucking that old redneck... shit, she should be glad we would even consider fucking her." The man spit out, heavy footsteps leading to the door as he spoke.

And that was it, those words caused Daryl to thrust so harshly into you that it broke the knot inside of you. You almost screamed into Daryl's hand, your body tensing completely, your toes curling, your vision going white as he didn't stop his abuse. He fucked and rubbed you through the earth-shattering, mind-blowing, entire life-changing orgasm. Your cunt spasmed around his cock, liquids puddling up on the floor as you came around his cock. His fingers that were playing with your clit while you came were now covered in your slick.

"I call fucking her tits first." The other man said, another pair of footsteps followed the first ones you heard... both of the men now leaving the bathroom. "You can have him..."

The door shut, silencing the men's words which were now just jumbled as you came on Daryl's cock. You heard the door click shut, suddenly being shoved against the door once again in just seconds. You were still having the aftershocks of your orgasm while Daryl thrust into you, shoving your head further into the stall door. You moaned loudly, you're an overstimulated pussy trying to reject his cock but also craving it, his hand no longer silencing your moans. He shoved his cock inside of you, over and over again until the door was shaking along with his thrust.

You could feel his anger, feel the way that he tensed... the way that those men's words got more to him than they did to you. You could tell with every thrust of his hips that he was furious. He thrust into you only a couple more times before he groaned loudly, almost growling as he felt his own orgasm consume his body.

"Gonna cum in your fucking pussy..." He spit out, his grip on your hip tightening now and you could cum again just by his anger. "Gonna fill you up so fucking good baby... so good baby."

His words filled your brain, your body still so exhausted from the orgasm. You let him use you though, let him use your body so he could fuck his anger out. It was only mere seconds before you could feel his thick, warm cum paint your walls. When he said he was going to fill you up, he fucking meant it. He gave your pussy a few more good thrusts before he drained himself completely, his body allowing his veins to fill with pleasure. There's something about anger that makes orgasms feel so much better, feel so much more intense... and Daryl was a very angry man.

Daryl's cock softened inside of you, throbbing against your walls. He kept himself in you though, allowing you both to recover from the pleasure that filled you both. Daryl leaned down, kissing your back softly as he came down from his high, rubbing your hips to ease the bruises he left on them. This night was not supposed to go like this, you two were not supposed to fuck in the bathroom of this new town you had just been welcomed into. This was behavior that you two would do in your earlier years when you were both reckless, both so horny your hands never left each other. It is comforting, how things never really change.

"You okay?" Daryl asked, brushing your hair from your face... your face still pressed against the door and still very much covered in his cum.

You nodded softly, not able to speak well because Daryl's cock really took a number on your throat. Daryl smiled softly, slipping his cock out of you... watching his cum leak out of you. It was rare for Daryl to cum in you, he was always so adamant about cumming anywhere but inside simply because....he didn't want to knock you up, kids weren't supposed to grow up in this world. But something about tonight, he wasn't worried about you getting pregnant. A part of him actually welcomed it.

Daryl stepped back from you, pulling his pants up and buttoning them back up. You straighten yourself up, legs shaking as you attempt to pull your dress down. You weren't sure if you should bring up what happened, about the men who said those things but the words left a tension between you two. The words did hurt, you did feel massively sexualized by those men and you didn't like the feeling of it. But you thought maybe you could ignore it, it will go away on its own. Daryl noticed your struggle to put your dress back on, feeling a slight twinge of sympathy.

"Let me help..." He said, reaching over to help fix your dress. Covering up your body, his hands grazing your soft skin as he did so. He too was having that debate in his head, if you two should talk about it. "You know, those men. They're dead, you know that?"

It was almost like he heard your thoughts, could read your mind, and laid out what you needed to hear. This entire night you had been sexualized, but you didn't mind it... it was just attention to you. But hearing it while Daryl was there, feeling the way it affected him as well. It made you feel so gross like maybe all you were was actually just a piece of meat to some men. You could never imagine a life without Daryl now, how respectful he was even with his degradation.

Daryl was 2 steps ahead though, he already planned on making their life a living hell. It was one thing to gawk at you in front of your face, imagining what you tasted like or how you would look butt naked on top of them... all the while you just wanted to collect stories. But it was another thing to write you up as some lust-filled woman who would give herself any man who would ask her nicely. You weren't what they made you out to be, but then again they made every woman who liked sex like they did out to be some kind of whore. You liked sex, you liked it rough... but so did they, so why were you any different?

"Don't get yourself in trouble because of that asshole diary." You said although you urged him not to... a part of you really wanted him to. Men like them deserved to be put in their place, they deserved to be made to feel just how they made women feel. Plus you wouldn't mind Daryl coming home all bloody...

"Who said I'll get caught..." He smiled, inching closer to you, and laid a soft kiss on your cheek, wrapping an arm around your waist while he did so. Daryl was good at his craft, he knew how to be careful."So, I want you to go home... Take a nice bath, make some tea or something.... maybe get some rest. And I'll be home before you know it."

He kissed your forehead, brushing your hair from your face. It did sound so nice to just give in to sleep, especially with being a nervous wreck all night and then being fucked so hard in a small bathroom. But the feeling of Daryl going to hunt down these men, staying up till the early ends of the night punishing them for what they said... something inside of you flips, causing a small knot in your stomach to form wants more. You reached up on your tiptoes, bringing Daryl into a passionate, long kiss. This hinted to Daryl what kind of mood his actions had put you in, he pulled away when he realized... he'd already been away from his post for long enough, he couldn't go another round with you.

He chuckled softly, stepping away from you... he slid his jacket off and placed it on your small body. You were completely engulfed by it, it covered your body more than the black dress did, and you couldn't help but feel so safe in it.

"I'll leave the bathroom first, you wait a couple of minutes and sneak out. There should be a backdoor in the kitchen you can slip out of, but then I want you to go straight home okay?" He said, pulling the jacket closer to your body before setting another kiss to your lips. "And clean your face off before leaving, it's already bad enough i fucked you in here... don't need them to see the evidence of it."

You couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, zipping up the jacket as you did so. You did completely forget about the cum that still dripped from your face, you were covered in so many liquids that his cum was completely forgotten by you. You nodded your head, watching him unlock the stall door and slip out of it. You poked your head from it, making sure the coast was clear before you also slipped out of it. You looked in the mirror, jesus... you were a complete mess. You watched as he peeked out of the bathroom door, making sure he could slip out successfully.

"Round three when you get home..." You called out, making him whip his head around to look at you. He scoffed, shaking his head softly.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon the walking dead #the walking dead daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl dixon #twd daryl

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lancermylove · 6 months

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Are We About to Kiss? (HC)

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: All x gn!Reader

Warning: None.

Original Prompt: Lucifer, Asmodeus, Beelzebub and Simon’s reaction to their crush jokingly asking ‘Are we about to kiss right now?’(like, when their faces got too close while doing a mundane thing and mc wanted to tease them)

A/N: I added more characters to the original but will put the original HCs in this post as well.

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Mammon was rummaging through his room, trying to find his missing wallet, while you were there browsing your favorite clothing site to see which outfit to buy for the upcoming dance.

"Hey, Mammon, what do you think about this outfit?"

Leaning close to look at your phone screen, he examined the apparel. "That'll look good on ya!"

In his excitement, he didn't notice how close his face had gotten to yours.

"Mammon, are we about to kiss?" you teased, noticing the proximity.

He jerked back, a flush creeping up his cheeks. "Wha- No! I mean, unless…ya want to?"

Seeing your amused smile, Mammon's confidence wavered, then surged. "Ah, what the heck," he muttered, closing the gap with a bashful grin. "If it's you, then I ain't complainin'."

Leviathan was focused on his new favorite game, his room dimly lit by the glow of multiple screens. You were busy sitting on a bean bag beside him, working on a project

"Levi, do you think this idea is good enough for the project?" You asked, nudging him slightly to get his attention.

With a sigh, Levi paused his game and turned to look at your notes. "Let's see what you've got," he mumbled and leaned in close to see the small text on your paper.

His arm brushed against yours, neither of you realizing how your faces had drawn inches apart in the dim light.

"Levi, we are close enough to kiss. Do you want to kiss me?" you whispered, half-joking, half-curious about his reaction.

He froze, his eyes widening as he processed your words. "Huh?! No, no, no, I mean... I-I wouldn't be opposed, but... are you sure?"

After a moment of flustered hesitation, Levi's expression softened, a shy smile forming. "If... if you're really okay with it, then... I guess I am, too."

Satan had invited you to his room for a quiet reading session, but you were there to seek his advice on a tricky essay topic for your RAD assignment.

"Satan, how do you interpret this passage?"

He leaned over, his emerald eyes scanning the text closely. "Ah, this is a common misconception. What the author is actually implying is…"

As he explained the meaning, his focus was entirely on the book, but your focus was on his handsome face. You were almost tempted to caress his silky hair.

"Satan, do you intend to kiss me?"

He paused, looking up from the book. When his eyes met yours, a light blush painted his cheeks. "I… had not planned such a deviation from our study. But if you're inclined…"

With a soft smile, Satan set the book aside and slowly closed the gap between the two of you.

Belphegor invited you to nap with him under a cozy blanket in the attic. But the two of you ended up discussing the upcoming meteor shower.

"Belphie, do you think we'll be able to see the shooting stars clearly from here?"

He yawned, shifting closer to you for warmth. "This is the perfect spot. You'll see, it's magical."

While whispering, he inadvertently nestled closer, his head resting against yours. For a moment, you observed his soft expression as he looked up at the skylight.

"Belphie, are we about to kiss?."

He opened his eyes slowly, a lazy, content smile spreading across his face. "Wouldn't that be a perfect way to wait for the stars?" he murmured, excited at the thought of his lips meeting yours.

The prince had arranged a private tour of the RAD archives for you to help you gather information for a history project.

"Diavolo, what's the significance of this emblem?" You inquired, pointing to an ancient crest embedded in the archive walls.

With a warm smile, Diavolo stepped closer to explain, his voice filled with passion for his heritage. "This emblem represents the unification of the three realms, a symbol of peace and collaboration."

His hand gently guided your shoulder to a better viewing angle, bringing your faces inches apart. But the prince didn't notice this as he was too immersed in explaining the importance of the emblem.

Unable to resist the closeness of his handsome face, you whispered. "Diavolo."

As soon as he turned his head to you with a bright smile, his eyes widened at the closeness. Giggling, you teased. "So...are we about to kiss?"

"Would that be your desire?" he responded with a deep and inviting voice, his eyes sparkling. "I am here to make your experience as enjoyable as possible."

Barbatos had offered to teach you an exclusive recipe from the royal kitchen due to your curiosity about Devildom cuisine.

As you stirred the ingredients in a bowl, you curiously asked. "Barb, how do you know when this mixture is ready?"

Barbatos leaned in, his eyes scrutinizing the mixture. "Observe the texture and color."

Seeing your stirring technique a bit off, his hand steadied yours. His body was so close to your back that you could feel the heat seeping through his shirt. Though he remained composed, your cheeks grew red. Moreover, he refused to move as he was too invested in watching you mix the ingredients closely.

"Barbatos, do you...plan to kiss me?" You giggled.

He paused and slightly tilted his head. For a moment, his eyes took in your red cheeks while his ears listened to the rapid beating of your heart.

"If that is your wish, I see no reason to delay such a moment," he whispered teasingly into your ear.

For the longest time, you had pestered Solomon about wanting to watch him mix his potions and do magical things. He finally gave in to your wish and invited you to watch him craft a spell. While he was gathering the ingredients, you read through his tomes.

"Solomon, can your spell really charm anyone?"

He leaned over your shoulder to look at the words in the tome, his silver hair brushing against your cheek. "Ah, this one is quite unique."

He began to flip through the tome to find another spell that would help you understand the first one better. But your eyes were fixed on him as the corners of your lips tugged into a cute smile.

"Solomon, are we about to kiss?" You playfully asked.

He paused and stared at your face, only now realizing how close the two of you were. His lips curled into a calm smile. "Would that be an experiment you're willing to partake in, or do you simply wish to learn if you can charm me without the use of a spell?"

Lucifer was signing an enormous stack of papers while you were sitting beside him, working on homework.

"Sorry to disturb you, but Luci, what does this word mean?"

He leaned closer to you to get a good look at your textbook and confidently replied. "Have I answered your question or-"

The Avatar of Pride shifted his eyes to you, only now realizing how close he was to your face. He took a moment to gaze into your eyes - beautiful, simply beautiful. It wasn't often that Lucifer could get this close to you without his brothers attempting to pry you away from him.

"So…are we about to kiss?"

Your words surprised him, but his lips tugged up into a mischievous smile. "Is that what you wish for?"

Without waiting for your reply, Lucifer closed the distance between your faces and whispered against your lips. "Your wish is my command."

It was your turn to cook dinner, and you were busy chopping vegetables. Out of all the recipes you could have picked, why did you choose one that required so many veggies? Cooking was tedious enough, but now you were stuck cutting a mountain of greens.

As a yawn escaped your lips, you closed your eyes but didn’t stop moving the knife.

”(Y/n), careful!“ A strong hand gripped your forearm in the nick of time and prevented the sharp blade from cutting your index finger.

Opening your eyes, you saw Beel’s face a few centimeters away from yours. The two of you locked gazes for a few minutes as your brain tried to process what was going on. But instead of thanking him for saving your finger, you ended up asking, "Um…are we about to kiss?"

Beel tilted his head to the side and blinked rapidly. "You were about to hurt yourself, so I stopped you…"

"You are too innocent, Beel. I was teasing you…you know what, never mind, thanks for saving my precious finger."

The Avatar of Gluttony nodded, but he started to regret his reply - a kiss sounded even better to him than an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Asmo was absentmindedly brushing through his hair and didn’t notice you walk into his room. For a moment, you observed him, wondering if something was bothering him.

"Asmo?"

No reply. What was going on? That was not like him at all.

You walked up behind him, leaned down, and brought your lips close to his ear. "What’s wrong?”

Even though your question and intentions were innocent, your whisper was enough to make Asmo shiver.

He turned his head to apologize to you but seeing how close you were to him, the Avatar of Lust froze. Was it just him or did you get even more attractive than before?

“Why are you looking at me like that? Are you thinking about kissing me?"

"A kiss? Well, I was planning to verbally confess my feelings for you, but a kiss works, too."

Asmo pressed his soft lips against yours with no plans of letting you walk away with just one kiss.

You were helping the angels bake some sweets in the Purgatory Hall kitchen. Luke left the kitchen to retrieve his phone from his bedroom, leaving you with the older angel.

"Simeon, my apron is coming loose, so could you please tighten it? Sorry to ask you, but-" You showed him your frosting-covered hands.

After tightening the knot, he glanced over your shoulder to get a better look at your colorful cookies. The second you turned your head to thank him, your noses touched.

To your surprise, Simeon didn't back away; instead, he glanced at you with the softest of looks, admiring how radiant your face looked.

"Um…are we about to kiss?"

A hint of red crept on his cheeks as a smile formed on his lips, "I would like that."

Just as your lips brushed against his, Luke flung the door open, "Sorry it took so long!"

You and Simeon immediately pulled away, turning your faces in opposite directions.

"Did something happen?" The young angel asked, concerned, "Your faces are really red…are the two of you sick?"

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➣ Obey Me Masterlist: [1][2][3] ➣ Main Masterlist

➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open ➣ HC/Scenario Requests: Closed || Quick Ask Requests: Closed || GIF Requests: Closed

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me swd

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space-mango-company · 6 months

Text

Stranger | Chapter 5

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: Descriptions of Violence, Mentions of Cannibalism

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut, POV Second Person, No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon What Canon

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Not proofread!! Holy moly. Here it is, folks. The scene that inspired this whole fic. I had fun writing this so I really hope you enjoy it. Once again, I appreciate everyone who likes, comments, and/or leaves kudos so much. I really started this fic for myself but good golly, that dopamine rush whenever I get a notif might be more addicting than spice. I'm glad to be part of the bald man brigade.

Also, I can't believe I'm only now questioning why I decided to write this in the second person? I guess maybe I thought this fic would be a lot shorter and not that deep, lol. At this point 'y/n' probably has enough personality to just be a straight-up OC. It's funnier because I don't even find second-person or y/n fics any more engaging either. I always detach myself by giving 'y/n' her own name and only seeing her as a character in the fic.

ANYWAY, sorry to ramble. Stay safe and have a good one, ya weirdos.

You step out into the dark cul-de-sac of the guest hall, illuminated only by the large suspensor lamp in the middle. Feyd-Rautha looks you up and down, seemingly entranced by how the dim light casts his shadow on your modest dress. Atreides green, he recognized.

"Trying to sneak into my rooms again?" you say arms crossed, leaning on your door. "I didn't appreciate the last time, by the way."

"It's my house," he says cooly, "and I did knock this time."

You stare at him indifferently.

"Quite the display from you yesterday morning, using The Voice on me." His voice low and raspy, "I should have you drawn and quartered."

You scoff in his face. "You almost choked me to death. Are you trying to start a war?"

He takes a step closer and his face is inches from yours, you can feel his breath on your cheek, "I didn't think I'd like you this much, little hawk."

"What do you want, Feyd-Rautha?" you had no patience for him right now.

"Ah," he steps back, a dark smile on his face, "I've been waiting to hear my name from your tongue." His hand reaches for your lips. "I've grown quite tired of 'na-Baron'."

You grab his wrist before he can touch you. "If you're only here to toy with me, I would rather be left alone to prepare for bed." You release his hand and turn to open your door.

Feyd-Rautha props an arm against the doorway to block you. "We're to be married in three days," he says, "and I just can't seem to bring myself to let go of my 'harpies', as you called them." He meets your gaze. "You said you'd kill them. Did you mean that?"

You look up at him with steely eyes. He towered over you but your heart felt no fear, "Yes."

His coy smile returns. "Good. Come to my training hall tomorrow," he says, walking away.

"What?" you call after him.

"Dress to fight," he says over his shoulder. "I want to see what you can do, Atreides."

You needed no help from Zora in putting on a loose shirt and long pants. The plain beige outfit certainly wasn't as elegant as the dresses you had been wearing so far. But it was comfortable and you could fight in it, which was all that mattered. Still, you look yourself in the mirror. The soft, airy fabrics draped over your figure well but perhaps you were not in the best shape as you once were. Your muscle mass is much less than your brother's and he wasn't particularly built himself. You admit you did wane off your training sessions with Gurney and Paul leading up to your departure from Caladan. Nevertheless, you were still a skilled warrior. Another secret you've been keeping from the Harkonnens.

You were 14 when you started learning the blade. Watching Paul, 2 years your senior, practice with the Atreides Warmaster lit a fire in you. You didn't hesitate to pester your father to let you train with them and of course, there was nothing he could deny his darling daughter. You were a fierce and determined student. Gurney Halleck was a man you genuinely believed to be one of the best fighters in the Imperium, along with Duncan Idaho. Gurney would train you and Paul on even days. On odd days, your mother would teach you the Weirding Way. These lessons, much like the rest of your mother's teachings, your father wanted to know nothing about. After becoming decently adept at Prana-Bindu and gaining almost complete physical control of your body, Lady Jessica insisted that you also be skilled in the Bene Gesserit style of combat.

You were far from mastery in either but the combination of both trainings made you a formidable fighter. Despite this, you could never seem to beat your brother in a sparring match. A fact that frustrated you to no end, though you appreciated that Paul never went easy on you. You'd always blame it on him having trained for longer than you have. But in truth, you knew there had just always been something special about him.

"Are you ready, my lady?" Zora's soft voice wakes you from your thoughts.

"Hm? Right. Yes, let's go." You quickly tie your hair out of the way and grab your father's dagger from atop your dresser.

There was no fanfare when you entered the hall. On one end, the na-Baron's concubines sat chained on the steps of the shallow recessed pit in their leathers, their glares piercing through you. Your eyes linger on them as Feyd-Rautha and his Warmaster greet you.

"I was starting to think my lady bride was bluffing," Feyd-Rautha says as you approach him. The older man beside him offers you a polite bow.

"Perhaps she wasn't so keen on your brutish games," you bite back. "Your lord uncle won't be joining us?"

"No," Feyd-Rautha crosses his arms, "but he'll be hearing about your victory. Or your demise."

"Right. Well, I assume you'll be releasing them from those chains," you nod towards his pets "Not sure why they're necessary."

"Oh, trust me, little hawk. They're necessary." Feyd-Rautha motions to a servant.

"Your blade and shield, my lady," they bow, presenting you with a knife and a small device you recognize as a Holtzman shield.

"I've brought my own," you unsheath your father's dagger. You contemplate taking the shield but remembering that the na-Baron forwent it during his gladiator fight, you decide to do so as well. "They've no weapons anyway, the shield seems pointless."

Feyd-Rautha shrugs, "If you insist."

You take a deep breath, "Let's get this over with."

You lightly stretch as you walk down the steps of the shallow pit to stand opposite the na-Baron's concubines. You had come into this on the pretense of righteousness. For Iassa, you told yourself. But you've known her a mere two days. A part of you wanted to show off. You were good and you knew it. You could probably kill anyone in this room, even Feyd-Rautha. You craved the respect of the people here: the Harkonnens, the people of Geidi Prime. You figured this was one way to get it.

Feyd-Rautha walks around the pit to one of his concubines and kneels to whisper something in her ear. You assume a fighting stance when he moves to release her from the chains. When you meet her eyes, they are filled with feral bloodlust.

Suddenly, you weren't so bold. The veil of courage you have maintained since you arrived, even when Feyd-Rautha had your neck in his grip, is torn apart when you face this woman. You could tell no part of her would hesitate to rip your throat out with her bare teeth. You were almost relieved they were unarmed, but you weren't sure if that would make them any less lethal.

Fear grew in your chest and you had less than a moment to recite the Litany in your head before the concubine lunged at you.

You crouch down in time and slash at her abdomen as she approaches you. You turn to face her on the other side of the pit and she wastes no time in attacking you again. She attempts to grab your armed hand but you take hold of her wrist first and move to pin it behind her back. Quickly, your blade drags across her throat and she falls to your feet.

The kill has not yet registered in your mind but your heart is racing. You can almost hear your blood coursing through your veins. You held your arms outstretched, your eyes focused ahead, ready for the next one.

Across the pit, Feyd-Rautha licks his lips, smiling as he releases his second concubine. This time, you walk toward her while she moves to attack you. You clock her head with the pommel of your dagger and knock her a few steps back. She reaches a hand to wipe the blood beginning to drip out of her nose. After examining it, she snarls and bares her sharp teeth at you. Your mind is blank now. She dodges your first slash then manages to land a blow to your jaw. You seethe from the pain. You spit out the mixture of blood and saliva filling your mouth. The anger at the hit drives you to rush at her. Seeing an opening, you duck down to her waist and stab her twice. As she falls to her knees, the look of determination doesn't leave her eyes until the very last moment.

When you turn around, Feyd-Rautha has already released the last concubine. The ruthless scream she lets out disorients you. She pounces and knocks you over. She straddles you and pins your arms to the ground, your blade sliding inches away. She screams again in your face at the death of her sisters. You wedge your right knee between you and her abdomen, the only thing keeping her teeth from reaching your throat. You grunt as you struggle to free your hands. In your periphery, you see Feyd-Rautha, wielding his own blade, take a step into the pit.

"GET BACK," you roar, and he is powerless to refuse.

You turn back to your opponent still on top of you and you butt her head with your own. She loosens her grip and you kick her off to hastily crawl to your weapon. When she reorients herself and attempts to grab you again, you hook a knee under her arm and flip the both of you over. With your weight on her chest and both your knees pinning her arms down, she thrashes underneath you, claws digging into your right ankle. You take your blade in both hands and her screaming is silenced when you sink your knife deep into her heart.

When you rise, the room is quiet. Your chest heaves. The stark white ceiling lights don't help the lightheadedness that begins to wash over you in the post-adrenaline rush. Feyd-Rautha says something from behind you but his speech is garbled as you reel from the thrill of what just transpired. You were electrified. You almost... wanted more.

Then, the realization of the revolting scene you are in settles upon you and you are knocked off your high. You look at the leather-clad bodies scattered around you, the grotesque way they lay on the floor, the red blood pooling around them made brighter by the sterile grayness of the room. You did this.

A hand on your shoulder snaps you out of it. In reflex, you turn and raise your blade at the offender.

Feyd-Rautha holds his hands up, "Whoa, easy, Atreides. Trying to kill me? Don't want to start a war, do you?"

You yield your weapon. Your eyes dodge his as you look to your feet and try to steady your breathing.

"Enjoy your first taste of blood?" Feyd-Rautha says, the look in his eyes indecipherable to you. He raises a hand and swipes his thumb on your cheek. It comes away covered in crimson.

You gasp and reach for your face with your own hand. You don't even know if it's your blood or theirs, or when it got on you. Your heart pounded, unable to decide whether you were repulsed or proud.

"Look at you," he says licking the red off his finger. You could not help but stare at him through the strands of your hair that had come undone in the fighting. "You're beautiful like this," his hand reaches for your face again.

"No," you say low and quiet when you swat his hand away, "you're sick." You didn't know if you meant him or yourself. You calmly turn to leave. No one stops you when you make your way up the shallow steps of the pit. As you pass Iassa—no, Zora—by the doorway, you tell her flatly, "Prepare a bath."

You had never taken a life before. Today, you took three. You were glad you didn't know their names. You decided you'd never find out.

After Zora pours a final pitcher of hot water into the bath, you tell her, "You may go. I'll dress myself later, thank you."

She bows and makes her way out of your rooms.

In your solitude, you bring your knees to your chest. You had been quick to wipe the blood off your cheek before you even reached your quarters. Now, you cup the water into your hands and rub it into your face, the slight sting of the heat comforting you.

He was a cruel man, your betrothed. This is what you've decided. Having you kill the concubines he claimed to want to keep so much. But wasn't it you who threatened to kill them? He started it, you argue with yourself, when he had Iassa killed. You felt like a child.

When you used to hear of Feyd-Rautha's exploits, you had to mask your disgust. And yet now, you had killed so easily in that pit as he had in the arena. What was this place doing to you?

When you left Caladan, Paul had never killed anyone either. You wonder if he ever does, would he feel the same exhilaration you did when you slit that first concubine's throat. No. Your brother was fierce but, like your father, he had a good heart. You beat him by three. You hoped it would stay that way.

You think about your future here, marrying Feyd-Rautha. Producing heir after heir under the Baron's watchful eye. You were a broodmare. Despite all your fancy training and education. Despite your little demonstration earlier. It was the bitter truth.

You missed home. You missed walking along the beach at night with your father. You missed your mother's gentle hands brushing your hair. You missed the banter and teasing with your brother. You missed Gurney, and Duncan, and the cold breeze on your balcony, and getting to roam free and going anywhere you pleased. When the tears come, you sink deep into the bath so they might fade away in the water.

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore @bornslippys @vexis-world @aoi-targaryen @alexandrainlove @mamawiggers1980 @sstardussty @aboutthenabaron

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha fic #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #atreides reader #dune #dune part two #space-mango-company #fic: stranger

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007reid · 9 months

Text

stalemate. spencer reid

join the taglist | part 1

summary: spencer reid isn't very fond of you, and that you understand. you aren't fond of him either.

a/n: this was the first spencer thing i wrote and since i cant write a lot rn , i’ll push this out for u guys!! enjoy <33 lmk if you want a p2 🤍

the team didn't welcome you coldly, but they didn't hold their arms open for you to run in, either. you understand completely. they're a family, and have worked together efficiently without you for long enough to not need a second opinion from you. yet a help wanted slot was posted and you have been waiting for an excuse to transfer out of your shitty department anyway, so you didn't have anything to loose. however, now that you sit here listening to the entire team's hearty laughter bouncing off the walls, you regret ever coming to this 'celebration,' or whatever. you regret transferring out of your old department. it was shitty, but it wasn't as shitty as this.

you feel inferior, swirling the noodles in your plate absentmindedly as you think about whether or not your old boss would let you in if you come crawling back. because you would. in a heartbeat. the bau's giggles and inside jokes were foreign to you, and you didn't want to sulk in case of ruining their mood but you can't start smiling and pretending that you fit in either; that's even worse. you would excuse yourself, saying how it's late and everything, but it's fucking seven thirty. and considering how you're surrounded by the best profilers in the fucking nation, they will read the excuses by just a single glance at your face. you'd rather not risk it.

it's not like anyone's rude to you either. you look at jj, then prentiss, then to garcia. they're all leaning into each other, completely in their element. hotch is looking at them affectionately, and you rarely see the man smile but he's smiling now, at peace. then you glance at morgan, who has his arm thrown over reid, drunkenly singing and-

reid.

it's not like anyone's rude to you, except for dr. reid, who's always on his fucking guard and keeps to himself like he's all so superior and mysterious, a man with 3 ph.d's and smarter than everyone in the room and loves to remind everyone of it.

you don't realize you were staring until he catches your eye, and you immediately look away, indignant and scowling at yourself for being caught. you stab at a piece of red pepper with your fork and aggressively bite at it. fucking doctor spencer reid, you think bitterly. he looks so miserable and irritated all the time and you hope it stays that way.

***

flashback~

it's your first day at the bau and you're so excited you can't even keep your breakfast down. you've been waiting for a breakthrough your entire career, and today is the day. you heard about what it was like working in the bau from people who have watched them. they're a family.

as you button your blouse, you grow giddy at the thought of what today would turn out to be like. everyone will introduce yourself to you, and you'll take turn complimenting each other, and then you'll find an obscure interest with every single one of them to connect over. they're a caring family, and you can't wait to receive and give some of the care as you become apart of the team. you leave with your brown bag hanging over your shoulder and a pretty, modest outfit, with your hair done not too deliberately.

the people who told you the bau is like a family was right. as you introduce yourself to them, you can't help but like these people. there is something so effortlessly cool about them, making you drawn to them immediately. jj was at the front door first, waiting to walk you in, introducing herself and the moment she finished a short woman runs towards you, jewels on her ears neck and arms clinking together as she throws herself at you, and the hug feels like one from your favorite aunt. "it's been so long since we had someone new around here!" she squealed. "i'm penny garcia!"

a woman with black hair was lingering around nearby too, and she spoke cooly and slowly, the complete opposite of garcia, "i'm emily prentiss." a man behind a cubicle poked out, his eyes kind and cheerful. he winked and said his name was derek morgan.

"you already met gideon and hotch when they interviewed you, hotch's out right now, he'll be back by afternoon. gideon's getting his morning donuts. and there's reid too," says jj. "but...hey, where's reid?"

the entire team looked around. you didn't know who to look for, but you looked around anyway.

"he was just here a second ago," penny said. "maybe he went to make copies of something."

"you'll see him later," jj brushed it off, "he haunts the place. reid is about your age, comes here early and leaves late. i'm gonna show you to your new cubicle, 'kay?"

you had nodded. jj assigned you a packet to look over, and the hour passed by with you concentrating on the packet and exchanging brief small talk with everyone to get to know them. the absent reid never showed up. by the third hour, your fingers were twitching for a coffee. you set the packet down and walked over to penny's desk, since she was the nicest and least intimidating out of all the agents. "hey," you said, slightly shy. "is there a coffee machine...?"

"oh! yeah, i forgot," she jolted from her seat. the energy in that woman never cease to surprise you. "we should've given you a tour. the lunch room is right down the hall, honey."

"grab me a coffee too while you're there, yeah?" prentiss called out to you from her desk. "black. thanks, y/l/n."

you nodded. you didn't mind picking up another cup, and doing favors for someone does make them like you better and you really wanted to fit in with the team. there was no way in hell you're going back to your old desk job; it lacked the adventure you needed and the people there had no soul to them--you shuddered at just thinking about going back there.

you found the break room with no issue and immediately bee-lined for the coffee machine. you started on prentiss' first, grabbing the green starbucks black-coffee pod from the stand. a voice stopped you in your tracks.

"she takes nespresso."

shocked, you whipped around. at the small lunch table, with papers spread everywhere was a man with brown curly hair, pushed back and out of his eyes. he looked unimpressed. you recognized him immediately; he must be the famous doctor reid who was absent from his desk all day.

flustered, you take the pod back out and puts it back in the stand, taking out nespresso. you knew better than to doubt the guy; he probably heard prentiss' voice asking for coffee and he's been around for ages, he knows what coffee she drinks. "sorry," you muttered. "she didn't specify."

he blinked slowly, and if you had just focused on his eyes alone, you would've immediately been comforted; he had kind, doe eyes, patient and gentle. the scowl on his lips and the flare of his nostrils told you otherwise, though. he didn't like you, and he's not even bothering to hide the fact. while the coffee machine whirls, you stand there awkwardly, and reid scoffed an unamused snort looking at you before turning back to his papers. you turned your back to him and stare at the steam gathering on top of the pot.

what the fuck? you didn't expect to start beef with your coworker on your first day, and yet...you rack through your mind--what did you do? maybe you offended him once on the street and he remembered your face? but you have never seen him before, you're good with faces, and if you had seen a face as pretty as his, you'd remember.

at that thought, you mentally scowled yourself. he gets annoyed just from looking at you, dumbass, you chided yourself. the coffee machine beeps, and you poured out a cup, before starting on your own.

"are you the new agent?" reid spoke again, his voice flat and emotionless but you're no newbie to the game, you knew the hostility was there.

"i am," you said, turning around and found that he was already looking at you, trying to sound as confident as possible. you thought it worked, but when his eyes racked your face for tells, you hesitated. "i'm y/n y/l/n."

"i'm spencer reid," he said. you hide your grimace. i know. "sorry i didn't come out to greet you with everyone, i was kind of caught up," he said, gesturing to the messy pile of papers on the table, but his voice didn't sound apologetic at all. you could take a hint.

"no worries," you said lightly, "i understand."

he narrowed his eyes. you repeated what you said in your head. it was a perfectly normal thing to say. what was suspicious about it? he nodded once, and the coffee machine came to save the day as it beeped softly. you turned around, poured yourself a cup, then headed for the door as fast as you could manage.

"it's nice to meet you doctor reid," you said hurriedly as you're out the door, remembering your etiquette. you want everyone here to like you, remember?

"likewise." he said shortly. and that was that.

end flashback.

***

you've been working at the bau for five months now. you'd say you know everyone pretty well, and the team made room for you to slip into their lives generously. all of them except for--predictably--doctor spencer reid. he keeps his guard up dangerously high and whenever he does decide to acknowledge or address you, it's to prove you wrong or to tell you that you're on to jackshit and you should shut the fuck up.

well. he never said that to you specifically, but you know he wanted to say it. it probably recites in his mind like a mantra.

you thought you had got along with everyone pretty well, minus the doctor you won't speak of, but now that you're sitting here at this team party, you realize you haven't made any progress at all. the team doesn't need you; since you're on the team, all they can do is to be polite to you and accept you as one of their own, but at the end of the day, they're a family and you're just the stray cat lurking outside their house looking for any spare food or love.

outside the office, jareau, prentiss, garcia, hotch, morgan and reid becomes jj, em, pen, still hotch (but more affectionately), derek and spence and you stay as y/l/n. you're tough, and it shouldn't make you feel so upset but it does. you suck it up and laugh along with everyone and you are fine with that, as long as at the end of the day, you get to throw yourself in bed and scream the frustration out into your pillow. it was starting to look up a little bit, until doctor spencer fucking reid has to go butch it all up.

jj and emily has their heads all together along with penelope as they shout out which man she should swipe right on tinder and somehow, you found yourself sandwiched in the middle of these women, genuine tears springing up to your eyes from how hard you're laughing. emily is creative with her insults and it leaves you and jj hanging onto each other shaking with laughter, holding each other in place so that the both of you wouldn't end up on the floor. you feel good. when you look up, however, you see reid's sneering, obnoxious face looking back at you, a beer on his lips and morgan talking next to him but he's more busy looking down on you. for the past five months, you've been letting it slide--emily had pulled you over once and told you how reid feels about change, and you tried to get it, you really tried, but there are limits to your trying.

you try to ignore him and turn back to penelope's phone, jj and emily oblivious and still going at it and yelling out "left! left! dear god, get that man off the screen!" but the excitement is drained out of you. you shake the thought in your head; it's not that serious, you tell yourself, but another part fights back. it is serious. he might be smarter, and more experienced, and works faster, and better, but you both have the same job. he doesn't have any right to be such a fucking dick, and what the hell did you even do? you had just walked in the office one day and when he looked at your face, he had decided immediately that he wanted you gone and have tried to express it as openly as possible ever since.

you don't understand, and you don't know what you did to deserve being so looked down and underestimated. and it hurts, too, and from just a single read of your face he must've known how much you wanted it, to be apart of the team; he's definitely doing it deliberately.

okay, the last part isn't true. you're just paranoid. you untangle yourself from the group, saying over and over again "gotta use the restroom guys...i'm sorry, i'm sorry--" and when the attention is off of you, you walk over to spencer and grabbed at the tacky sweater he has on, dragging him up.

"hey," he whines, annoyed but giving up to you easily. you can sense morgan's amused stare but you ignore it. when you're both almost out the door, he yanks himself out of your grip. "i can walk by myself, okay?" it's dark, but you know he rolled his eyes. you lead him outside to the back of the place and he follows closely behind, but not without grumbling about it. "what do you need?"

you pat your back pockets for your pack and the front pocket for your lighter. usually, you'd ask your company if they're okay with you smoking, but that's the last thing you'd be doing when it comes to spencer. cupping your hand over the cig to prevent wind, you light the cigarette up.

"you smoke?" spencer asks. he sounds surprised.

"sometimes," you inhale, keeps the smoke in your lungs for a second, and exhales, making sure most of it blows into spencer's face. you can tell that it did, but he didn't cough. poker face, you'll give him that.

you take a couple more breaths and spencer (surprisingly) waits for you silently, and when you don't feel like smoking anymore, you throw the cig on the ground and grind it with the rough heel of your boot. you look up at him.

sometimes, you get mad at spencer for how unreasonably pretty he is. he has these big eyes that you swear has glitter in them because they're so fucking beautiful in the sun and when he smiles (which is rarely, around you) the lines on the sides of his face scrunches up like a chipmunk and his eyes would crinkle until it disappears from how wide his smile is. it makes you want to bash your head inwards.

the moon, shining on his face and highlighting his high cheekbones and the wisps of his curls is not helping your case right now. you wonder how a person so beautiful can have such an ugly personality. you know that spencer's personality is not entirely ugly, though; you've seen the way he acts around the team, but when it's you, he transform into an entirely different person. no one has ever been able to tell you why. he's nerdy and giggly and has this charming, childish energy to him when he talks, and you've seen it, inside meetings you're not in and when he doesn't know that you're around.

you're sick of it. without his cruel act, you think you and spencer would make great friends. he's the only person about the same age as you in the bau, and he takes the train home, just like you do. he's afraid of walking past this creepy abandoned movie theater on his way there and you are too. you both read toni morrison and children's books. it's a shame.

you look at him, and it's the only thing you can think about. it's a shame.

"why do you hate me, reid?"

you mean for the sentence to sound demanding, like a confrontation but it comes out weak and wobbly. you feel your guts being punched out of your body from the embarrassment. you sound pathetic, and you're afraid to look up, afraid to see the ridicule on spencer's face and you wouldn't blame him for it. but all you received is silence and when you look up, spencer just looks confused. he stands there like a victim when he's the one who's been acting like nothing but a total ass to you. and that caused the rage you needed.

"answer the damn question, doctor," you say harshly. this unfreezes his out of his trance, and he looks down. it's quiet for a while, and right when you were about to start demanding again, he says, quietly:

"i don't hate you."

and it sounds like a bad fucking lie.

"you don't hate me?" you ask, your voice a lot calmer than how you feel. "you don't hate me but every time i open my mouth it offends you? you don't hate me but you sneer at me all day long, every single time i look at you you're already looking at me thinking about how fucking stupid i am. you don't hate me but on my first day you abandoned your desk to work in the fucking lunch room because you didn't want to see my face. i don't know what the fuck i did to upset you, reid, but whatever i did i don't deserve this bullshit you're putting me up with!" you didn't realize that your voice was getting progressively louder until you're yelling, unconcerned and unaware of the raging party inside. "i get that you don't like me, okay, but i-"

your yell turns into a gasp when spencer grabs your face and crash his lips against yours, aggressive and all teeth. before you could even register what's happening your body goes pliant and you unconsciously lean in, but then spencer rips away and you and shoves you forward like some cheap doll.

"what the fuck?" you murmur to yourself, trying to gain back your balance and spencer's quick to catch you swaying on your feet. his hand finds its way to your mouth.

"goddamn it y/n, keep it down," he whisper-yells. "the entire team must've heard you--"

"get off of me!" you demand, but it sounds muffled and distorted through his hand . you thrash around but he holds you steady, too firm for you to fight against.

"promise not to scream and i will," spencer grimaces. you go limp and quiet and he slowly moves his hand and then backs away, like some scared deer. "wasn't that so hard?"

you stare at him. he's leaning on the railing now, looking at the moon. the moon looks back at him.

you try not to think about the small seconds after he’d kissed you and what it meant. it means nothing. "there are better way for you to get me to be quiet," you say, a little bit angrily. you should be fuming, but you find that you no longer have the energy. he turns to you.

"i didn't think it through."

"you not thinking through something?" you snort humorlessly. "i guess there's a first time for everything."

spencer sighs. “y/n…”

it’s the first time he’s called you by your first name, and it doesn’t help his case at all. "you still haven't answer my question, reid," you say, as coldly as possible (which is not much, admittedly. all the rage you've bottled up over these past few months you've already wasted on that rant and now you just feel tired. and you want to go home).

"i'm afraid i don't have an answer you'll be satisfied with, y/l/n," spencer spits back, matching your tone. maybe even colder. it shocks you a little, how a person with that sweet of a face and voice can be this much of an asshole. it's a waste of a human, honestly.

and it's not that you're saying spencer reid is handsome, either, because handsome doesn't mean anything if the person is a jerk. but everyone can admit he's easy on the eyes. conventionally attractive, one could say. a conventionally attractive jackass, one could also say.

"you're saying you just hate on me for so reason?" you say. "i'm a profiler too, reid, not some intern running around bringing everybody coffee. i see the way you are with other people. you act like a fucking angel, kind and considerate, but when it comes to me--"

"the team, they're my family, y/l/n," he snaps, "i'm sorry for not treating you like family when you're just a stranger." and it hurt, but you give him that one. you know that you're not one of them, it's been made painfully obvious to you, on multiple occasions, each blow harder than the last. but that's no excuse to treat you like a piece of shit, like a brick laying on his way. what, did he act like that with everyone too when he first entered the job? causing scenes with emily and hoping she won't punch him in the face for it?

"i'm not asking you to treat me like family, reid," you grit through your teeth. for a genius, he can be so fucking dense. "i'm just asking you to treat me like a coworker and not some inexperienced kid who just waltzed into the place with no qualifications. is that too much for me to ask?"

he stay silent at that. a breeze visits, and his curls dance. you unconsciously wipe at your lips, the feel and memory of it still photographic on your mind.

after a while, you get tired of waiting. "if you're not going to say anything, i'm going home, reid," you say finally, not expecting a response and not receiving one. not surprised, you turned away and start to head inside. you stop by the door. "i know i'm not really 'part of the team,'" you say, scared that you might sound too honest but it's hard to care too much now, "it's too late for me to transfer back to my old department, they've already replaced me. if i could, i would, and get out of your hair. i guess i'm sorry for not being what you expected."

the moment the words slipped out your mouth, you cringe. you're starting to sound way too weak and you don't want to sound that way, especially not in front of spencer reid, who's probably going to torment and laugh at you inside his big ass head forever. you leave before you can say anything else even more stupid and humiliating. spencer doesn't leave his spot.

***

when you come into work the next morning, it's like the entire world flipped.

there's a fresh cup of coffee sitting on your desk, still steaming and the logo on it says it was from the coffee shop close to the office. when you look around, trying to find the perpetrator you catch emily's eye across the bullpen, who smirk and shrug innocently.

you stride over to her cubicle, eyes glancing briefly over spencer's. his satchel is there, but he's nowhere to be found. you set the cup on her desk, the hard paper making a loud, confrontational sound. "explain."

"i don't know what you're talking about," she says, blinking her lashes. emily can be a great liar when she wants to, and right now, it's like she's not even trying to put in the effort. you narrow your eyes. something's definitely fishy.

"yes you do. tell me."

"i don't know what you're talking about," she repeats, stubborn and sly about it. "somethings should explain themselves."

"who left coffee on my desk this morning, prentiss?" you demand, a step away from stomping your feet like a child. she's playing unfair.

"take a sip," emily says, a suspiciously plotting smile on her painted lips. "see if he got the order right."

"so it's a he," you say accusingly. "you do know who it is!"

"'course i do," she scoffs. "now take a sip."

you could only oblige. bringing the cup close to your lips, you take a precautionary sniff. "there's no poison in here, is there?"

emily snorts. you take a careful sip, clicking your tongue, judging, and then tipping your head back and getting a large gulp. it's possibly the best coffee you've ever had in your life. you don't know why you haven't visited the place earlier. it's definitely exactly what you take in your coffee, alright, but better. it's sweeter but sharper, and it tastes like heaven on earth. you could bathe in it if you could. it's godsend, and that's an understatement.

"jesus christ," you breathe, looking at the sticker on the cup in wonder. emily chuckles.

"so he did get the order right," she says proudly. "knew he would."

"emilyy," you move onto your next strategy. if pressure doesn't work, bribery will. "who bought me this. tell me and i'll bring you coffee from this place everyday for a month." it's a win-win for both sides. you're going to start visiting this place from now on anyway, might as well pick up an extra one for her. it's a small price to pay for such a sacred piece of information.

emily remains firmly resilient, not falling into your bribes. it's fair, emily takes black, and it's hard to mess black coffee up. it probably tastes the same everywhere. damn her. "two months," you challenge. nothing. "three!"

bribery, crossed off the list. next strategy. if bribery doesn't work, whining will.

"emilyy," you cry, clutching onto the coffee as you turn her chair back and forth, spinning her in frustration. "please,"

perfect timing as always, hotch passes by, coffee cup in his hand and files in the other, frown already edged on his face despite it being so early in the morning. "y/l/n," he scolds. "stop bothering prentiss and start on your paperwork. prentiss, no phones."

without another word and two eyerolls behind him, hotch walks away. you start towards your desk but you leveled emily with your best puppy eyes, but she doesn't budge. you settle at your desk, and start pulling out things from your bag. if she doesn't want to give you the information, you'll figure it out yourself.

so a guy bought you coffee. thank god there isn't many guys in the bau, making the list easier for you to narrow down. drawing up a mental checklist, you immediately cross spencer reid off, making sure his name is blacked out by a red marker, memories of last night are still floating around in your brain.

morgan is next on your list. he is a plausible target. he's a sweet talker, after all, and loves to flirt, but the person he would bring coffee to is garcia, not you. they're basically work spouses. and if it was him, why would he start bringing coffee to you now, all the sudden? and there's no way morgan would've known how you liked your coffee, he doesn't remember his own sometimes and liked to switch things up. morgan gets crossed off lightly with a number two pencil.

hotch is next. definitely not. he doesn't even offer to pay at social events (but always end up paying). he shouldn't even be on your list. crossed off lightly with a number two pencil.

rossi. rossi's got the mind storecloud of a computer, he knows everything and pays attention to everything and remembers everything. its what makes him such a good unit chief. so he definitely would've remembered how you take your coffee. he probably knows how everyone in the entire fbi takes their coffee. but if it was rossi, emily wouldn't have been so sly and secretive about it, because there's nothing special to hide. rossi gets in one of his affectionate moods sometimes and is pretty obvious about it. once he got garcia a whole box of designer chocolates, or whatever those were. rossi's name gets crossed off lightly with a number two pencil.

you evaluate your list, stumped. you start lingering on spencer reid's blacked out name, considering it before scolding at yourself. no chance.

"whatcha thinkin' so hard about?" penelope asks lightheartedly, bouncing by. she stops at your desk, an inquisitive smile on her face. you look up and she squeals. "ooh, your coffee's received!"

your attention's immediately grabbed. "you know who bought me this?"

"don't know a thing!" penelope sings. she does a zipping motion at her mouth, throwing the zip away. "ping! the zip is down the drain."

"what are you and emily hiding from me?" you demand. "however much the guy is paying you to keep quiet, i'll pay you double!"

penelope whistles, and emily spins around in her chair to face you. "that is a pretty good deal," penelope says. "but the guy paid us his loyalties, and well..."

you sigh in defeat.

"and unlimited donuts every monday from now on," emily quips.

"i can do the unlimited donuts!" you say enthusiastically. finally, something you can work with. "every monday and fridays. how about that?"

"sorry honey, no deal," penelope grins, flaunting away. emily smirks irritatingly from across the room. you go back to work, but your mind lingers on the list.

who?

***

the coffees start to become a stable. you found that it's no use picking up your new favorite coffee from the shop because when you walk into the office, there'll be one waiting for you, still hot.

the profiler gears start turning. it has to be someone who arrives only minutes before you. maybe a secret admirer from another department? but then there would be an identifying note, a card for a date or something. no secret admirer would go under the radar for that long, and how you he know how you take your coffee?

you crafted a plan. you're going to start coming to work a ten minutes earlier and hide out in the dark. it should've been an immediate solution, but its so desperate you wanted to have it as your last resort. when you have bribed and begged everyone on the team for the identity of this man since apparently the entire team fucking knows and wants to keep from you, you decide you have to pull out your one last ace.

right before the morning that you were going to do it though, the entire team got flown out to arizona.

you'll do it when you get back.

***

something is extremely strange about spencer reid.

he's been strange ever since the night you dubbed in your head as the conversation, avoiding talking to you unless he absolutely has to and when you do get partnered up together, he would treat you like an acquaintance. not a rival. it's a fresh breath of air from being the end of his cruel comments to someone he's reluctant to work with, but it's definitely an upgrade.

so you did manage to get through his thick head.

#spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #mgg #matthew gray gubler #cm #my works

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cas-backwards-tie · 5 months

Text

Wonderstruck

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Ex!Reader

Summary: Simon Riley finally takes it upon himself to check up on his childhood best friend and ex lover. He's been torturing himself reminiscing on your relationship and what went wrong for years now. Little does he know... you're in the same boat. Having seen someone today you swore was Simon on your way to work, you too, reflect on the past.

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Cursing, Angst, Stalking(?),

Mentions of: Drinking, Smoking, Motorcycle Riding

A/N: I don't know why but I constantly am getting inspired by certain songs, or am reminded of certain characters, and all the lyrics were just screaming childhood best friends to estranged lovers, right person wrong time Simon Riley. Nevertheless, if you'd love to listen to some versions of the song which inspired me, here we are! Line divider credit: @saradika-graphics and I'd also love to thank @penelopepine for helping me with the ending <3

He knew it was a bad idea as soon as it'd crossed his mind, yet somehow he couldn't rid himself of it time and time again. That's how he found himself here; watching you cross the street, he can't help but notice the vintage band t-shirt you have on, frayed at the edges with the little strings of the hem coming undone that you've refused to cut off. In you hands you clutch a new phone, no doubt an upgrade from the last one he'd seen you with- though it's been a while.

As you mindlessly tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, he can't help the way his insides churn. You were always effortlessly beautiful; you never had to try for anything. Even now, the way you can walk across the busy cobblestone side streets of London in high heels without seemingly second-guessing yourself, body language still poised on guard and ready in case anyone tries anything, just like he'd taught you.

It's clear from your outfit and the lipstick you’re donning that you're attempting to sway the officials at work. Maybe trying for that promotion you’d always been talking about, but never had the gumption to make today the day. What’s different about today, he wonders. You'd always been a go-getter, and truthfully, it was something Simon admired about you. Even in the moments where he'd resented it the most, the constant pestering and prodding at him in an attempt to get him to move and drag him out of the holes his dug himself into...

Where would he be now if only he listened?

What if you knew better?

He couldn't deny that the thoughts kept him up at night while he was away. Though, admittedly, more often than not it was the string of random memories that he’d get glimpses of during the day. It’d always be at the worst times, too. Two weeks ago in Berlin he’d been clapping Kyle on the back, hoping he’ll get it together as he stumbled out the pub. While Soap had the camaraderie to slug half his mate’s weight over his broad shoulders, Simon found himself unable to help as his eyes were drawn in by a couple a few paces down the block.

“Bollocks!” He’d shouted out in frustration. Double-checking himself, he didn’t have a spare cap on him, and he knew he sure as hell didn’t bring an umbrella on your little last minute ‘trip’. Not that he’d really call walking down to the local Tesco for snacks late one summer evening a trip. ‘It’ll be an adventure! Just think of it like that.’ You’d persuaded him.

“What? Are you going to melt?” He hears you joke. As his brown eyes land on your face when you turn to meet his gaze, a few steps ahead of him down the road, he can’t help the smile that breaks out across his lips upon your laughter. Sure, you may both be a little drunk after spending the evening in and having a drink or two. But it doesn’t change the way he feels about you, if anything, it makes him even more keenly aware of the way you affect him.

“Maybe. Who knows?” He teases in responses, tugging his jacket up and over his head to shield himself from the cool summer rain. Despite the time, now he’ll most likely need a shower when you get home. As he jogs to catch up and bring you under his little makeshift cocoon, you do the unexpected.

It was you, of course… he should’ve known better, always testing him, pushing him. With a gentle drop of the plastic bag full of snacks upon the side of the road you’d been strolling down, he watches as you run into the empty street. The streetlights illuminate you in a hazy orangey-yellow light as you begin to spin and twirl, dancing in the street.

With a shake of his head, he’s left stunned once again by the vast difference of your personalities. Your jeans and t-shirt are starting to get damp and discolored, and there’s a taunting, displeased remark sitting on his tongue just waiting to be made. It’s the utter joyous smile on your face as you tip your head back and relinquish yourself to your fate that leaves him wonderstruck, he thinks.

“Come on, Simon!” You beckon, finally meeting his gaze once again with that familiar carefree, hopeful look behind your irises. With an outstretched hand, he knows he can’t deny you this… and really, there’s something inside him that tells him he doesn’t want to, either.

“It’s her, innit?” He hears his Captain’s voice call over his shoulder. Pulled from his memories, Simon dismisses Price with a nonchalant grunt. As the old man tries to place a hand on his shoulder he dodges it, realizing he’s been watching the couple for longer than he’d thought. With Soap and Gaz almost to the end of the block, Simon sighs before shrugging his shoulders to right his jacket and head off in their direction for backup.

That was a time when your playfulness been more easily taken and accepted without question. No fighting, no push back, resentments… maybe that was it: he’d stopped going with the flow. He’d stopped accepting the punches and started dodging and weaving your advances at fixing things and picking up where he left you. Because while it’s too late now, he’s finally realized it for what it is: he left you in the dark, he’s the one who pushed you away, closed himself off.

That night he’d curled up in the temporary bed he’d been assigned, more memories continued to consume him. The way you’d effortlessly ease his worries on nights he’d come home stressed, feathers ruffled from whatever petty drama went on during the day. Whether it was something the guys said that stuck with him, or something he couldn’t get out of his mind when he came back from deployment. Your kisses always seemed to be the cure, your love… or maybe it was just… you.

“You know furrowing your brows like that will cause wrinkles,” you inform him, reaching out to run gentle fingers over his bunched skin.

A grunt of acknowledgment leaves his lips. “More for me to worry about, hm?” While it’s all he says, his eyes are searching over your composure.

“No,” it leaves your lips without thought, “just something to think about, be mindful of. If you’re not upset, then why furrow them?” Voice quiet in the moonlit apartment, your fingers smooth out his brows gently as you admire him. “I read something the other day about how it’s possible our body informs our mental state. If you’re tensing all the time, it won’t help your stress, Si.”

He simply hums in response, doing nothing to stop you as you ghost your lips over his for a moment before planting a loving chaste kiss to his. While big and wide warm hands find the exposed bit of skin between the hem of your sleeping pants and the shirt you wear, it’s the unexpected cool sensation that elicits a muffled gasp. Your much smaller hands are sneaking up underneath his sweatshirt to explore his abdomen, caressing him like he were made of soft silk. Your lips meet again for a chaste kiss.

Then it’s turning into something more; you have to take it slow, your lips dancing against one another, his hand rubbing your back to let you know it’s alright. As you begin to run out of breath, it’s only when you pull away, lashes fluttering against his skin that you ask him. “You know I’d love you even with wrinkles, right?”

Taken aback, he can’t help but stare. Unsure how to respond or what to do, his lips part in search of words. “Is that so?” He finally questions, hand giving your side a soft squeeze.

“My favorite boy… I love you to the moon and back… scars and all. I always have, and I always will, Simon,” you whisper, ghosting his lips again before planting one on him, “I just hope you know that.”

And at the time, he swore he did. It’s odd, really, and he wouldn’t lie to himself about it either. Simon tried dating after you, he tried hooking up, he tried it all… but it never felt right. As many times as he replays the memory, he can never get past the feeling of home. With you, it felt like home. You never made him feel expendable, or worry of the abandonment he knew would inevitably come.

For years afterward he blamed you, he saw it as your fault that you left, you abandoned him… when, maybe, really it’s finally time he admits it was him. He made it a self-fulfilling prophecy, and there was nothing you could do.

It's on your way home from work that you see them; while waiting for the bus, there's a playground in the park a few meters away. Really, the idea that human nature is predictable is always laughable at first, but only after watching people and stepping back to become an observer you've noticed from time to time that... it's more than true. Even from a distance, the children in the park look happy... but that's not what catches your eye. There's a blonde boy, and a girl, much like yourself when you were younger, playing what you can only assume is something halfway between hide and seek and tag, considering the playground offers more space and obstacles than hiding spots.

Perhaps it's the joyous looks on their little faces, or the way they unabashedly play, carefree and unaware of the adult worries and burdens the world hangs above their heads, just waiting any day to drop upon their shoulders unexpectedly. However, you can't help but reminisce on the ways you'd spent your childhood playing games much like the one the children are playing in the distance with a boy, very similar to the one before you, loving life, content, happy, simply aspiring to be the best at finding your ultimate hiding spot.

The soft squeak of the wheels coming to a halt before you and the mechanical release of air as the doors open brings your attention back to the present. Before you know it, you're on the bus, unconsciously taking a seat along the windows, hoping, just maybe you'll catch a glimpse of them as the bus drives down the road down its route. Though as you pass, the sun is beginning to set in the distance, the children departing the playground their separate ways as dusk begins to take its toll and curfew sets in place. The whole time you'd been focused on yourself, it's entirely possible that your own boy wound up beating you at your own game, finding the best spot and hiding himself away from the rest of the world.

Maybe it's the fact that you could've sworn you'd seen someone that looked almost identical to Simon on your way to work this morning, but memories continue to plague your mind for the first time in months. All the weekends he'd spent over at your house doing aimlessly silly things to fill your time, from science projects, to playing 'warrior' outside, you never felt more alive than the time you two spent together.

"I'll keep ya safe, yeah? Nothin' to worry about," Simon insists, gently guiding you to the side of the vehicle. Despite going out with your friends to the city for dinner, you both were sober. It should be fine, it would be. You'd been with him a million times... how different could it be? He'd run it by you as many times as you'd asked.

You swear it's not a good idea, but you trust him to the ends of the Earth. With a look over your shoulder, his brown eyes are steady, not uncertain in his unwavering gaze as he nods in assurance. Swinging a leg over the seat, you're in front this time. Helmets in place, hands on the clutch and brakes, you make eye contact with Simon once more before he flicks both your visors down. "Ready?" You ask him.

"More than ready, Love," he quips. With a quick shove to the kickstand, balance (with Simon's help of course), and a rev of the engine, you start the motorcycle off slowly. Gloved hands around your waist, he gives you a gentle squeeze.

He was always pushing you out of your comfort zone, that one. It was the first time you'd driven his motorcycle, and while it'd been scary and daunting for the first fifteen minutes, you eventually got used to it and it blossomed into something freeing. You understood then why he likes it, and you'd never been more grateful for someone pushing you out of your bubble. While flashes of all the kisses, caresses, and intimate moments between the two of you start to effervesce, you force yourself to remember the last time you'd seen him.

With a lingering hug, you're hesitant to let him go. Even if you know it's necessary, it's still hard... it always has been. "You'll let me know when you get in, right?" You ask, searching his eyes. They stand out from the black warpaint, his uniform always made him look handsome, even if you couldn't imagine how intimidating seeing his actual attire would be in his enemies position.

A dismissive and irritated grunt meets your ears as he shrugs your hands off. He'd packed quickly, something he's been doing more recently; taking more and more jobs, you've begun worrying for his health, not that he'd talk about it, of course. "If I 'ave time."

While you weren't able to get all the details on this excursion, you did manage to get that it was essentially a 'clean-up' for him. He had to go in and make sure that the hostages they'd had a lead on were all rescued and no one was left behind, no assailants or informants lingering or hiding. You've known that his job is hard on him. Losing people can't be easy, especially when you feel like you could've done things differently and changed the ending to their stories. Yet, you also know that throwing yourself into work the way he's been doing without talking to anyone, simply managing to pass debrief counseling by whatever meter their measuring is... not working. Not anymore, at least.

"You're running from this! You won't even answ-" you shout, gesticulating as you do everything in your power to keep the anger and worry that's tightly wound wrapped up in your gut under control, not to let anymore of it seep out than already has.

"An' you're one to talk?! You don't get to interrogate me," he argues, rounding the couch to get closer. The dark circles under his eyes scream volumes, even if he's unwilling to acknowledge whatever's going on for him. "I deal with that enough in my line o' work. Don't-"

"Simon," you say, tone holding that familiar warning tone.

You'd gotten home safely and were able to change and make something to eat. The feelings haven't left the cavity of your chest, still lingering there, the way he always does. He may be 'Ghost' on the field, yet he still haunts your memories, always making you question whether or not you did the right thing. What if only you'd done more? What if you hadn't pushed him so much? It wasn't always in a bad way, either, in fact, most of the time you'd find yourself chuckling randomly at some inside joke only the two of you share, or something he'd find funny. The stolen sweaters and hoodies you know for a fact long ago washed away his scent. Even if you swear sometimes that you can smell the faint odor of cigarettes he used to smoke. In the city when you're out with the girls you'd find yourself fondly inhaling the smell whenever a stranger would be smoking one nearby.

You'd cursed him: Simon Riley. Yet, the aching inside you he left often made you feel like he there's some sense of closure he never fully gave you. The SAS would tell you that he'd get your letters, even if you stopped writing years ago a little while after the split. You never got a response, and you never really expected one. Simon never really was one for letter writing. It was the only way you felt like you could get that closure, that part of your life done with. Ultimately, it did help you move on in some way.

A sigh tumbles past your lips as you change the channel on the television, unsure what you really feel like watching. A reality comedy show is on, something of a local prank show. It wasn't the best show, really, but it's one you used to watch a lot as a kid, and thus, another reminder of him. This one makes you smile, nonetheless. It's a good memory; nostalgia envelopes you in the way that makes you crave times that felt easier. Just when you wrap yourself in your fuzzy blanket, there's a soft rapt at the door.

Heart accelerating, eyes widening slightly, you slowly rise from the couch. The television volume isn't on loud, and while there may be light coming from it to inform a stranger you're home, that isn't enough to say that you're alone. With slow and cautious steps, you approach the door, careful to check the window near the door from a vantage point you're unseen. It's a man in a black hoodie. Panic sets in and you turn to skillfully head back toward the couch in search of your phone with quiet and quick steps. That's when it strikes you.

With all pretenses abandoned, you rush to the door and fling it open, lips parted in shock and awe. "Simon?" Searching and attempting to scan the partially shielded face, you're able to see tufts of blonde hair lit from the porch light.

"I know you've no reason to-" he starts, hands removing themselves from his hoodie's pocket, "but please let me come in and explain."

"You came back," you whisper. It's more for yourself than him, and whether it's out of bewilderment, intuitive knowing, or a premonition; you were right.

As he takes a step forward and reaches out for you with shaky hands produced from the familiar black pocket of his hoodie, you don't retract. Slow and tentative movements on both ends, he grabs ahold of one hand, thumb consciously skirting back and forth repeatedly in a form of grounding and seeking comfort. "You were right," his deep voice rasps.

Your hand cautiously seeks his cheek beneath the shield of his hood. Fully expecting to meet the spandex material of his balaclava, you're surprised by the warmth of his skin underneath your gentle touch. Wrist pushing against the cotton hood, it gives way, revealing his face. Searching his deep brown eyes for any sign he's genuine... you're met with truth.

With a weak nod you turn, leaving the door to shut softly behind the two of you.

~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #my writing #song fic #taylor swift #cardigan #simon riley x reader angst #angst #angst with a happy ending #simon ghost riley x ex!reader #simon riley x ex!reader #simon riley x cbf!reader #simon ghost riley x cbf!reader #biker!simon riley #song fics

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ceruark · 5 months

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i love you, it’s ruining my life

synopsis: the love of your life is engaged, and you foolishly show up to the celebration. notes: gn! reader x sunday. arranged marriage (not to you, sorry). angst. cw: light smut words: 1,273 inspiration: fortnight by taylor swift got me in a chokehold… a/n: oh to have sunday longing for you…

You shouldn't be here.

There's a number of things that sentence could mean. You shouldn't be here, attending the engagement party thrown for the head of the Oak Family. Here, in Golden Hour's finest ballroom, dressed in the outfit he loves to take off of you. Here, hidden away in one of the private rooms. Here, in Sunday's arms, fingers tangled in his hair while he steals kisses from your lips, drinking you in like he's just spent an eternity in the desert. Devouring you, because he knows it’s the last time he can.

They've wedded him off to an established actor from the Iris Family. Their face isn't plastered on billboards as much as Robin's is, but you've certainly noticed their increased presence in the media in the past few years. You've only met them once, at the entrance of the ballroom, hanging off of Sunday's arm and thanking you for coming. They seem nice enough.

The image of their smiling face flashes in your mind, and you shove at Sunday's chest weakly, more of a test to see how strong his will is than an actual signal for him to stop. In response, he grabs you by the hips and pulls you closer. His lips trail kisses down your cheek and jaw and settle at your neck. A slight gasp leaves you as he tugs your collar lower and sucks at the exposed skin. You grip at his hair and pull, unsure if you’re still testing his resolve or trying to find your own.

The Family had started their search for Sunday's partner two years ago. As was customary for the heads of families, potential suitors were carefully screened and selected based on the image the specific family head had to keep up. All of their selections for him had been the same: distinguished, elegant, and influential in one way or another. Any of them would have been perfect as his other half in the eyes of the public.

Only one of them resembles you in some way, and they're out in the ballroom, likely wondering where their fiance has disappeared to.

Sunday tugs at your top and looks up at you in silent question. You nod at him, and your resolve slips through your fingers in the same moment the piece of clothing slips through his. He moves his hands up to grasp your waist, and presses a kiss to your stomach before moving his face up to your chest. You move a hand away from his hair and use it to muffle a gasp when he bites down on the area, sucking the skin into his mouth. He presses a tender kiss to it after.

The Family had never considered you, or even looked your way. How could they? You were a Bloodhound, and not a noteworthy one at that. You were rough around the edges, too used to defending yourself against drunk patrons with a temper. Having grown up around hot-headed and boisterous individuals, you let your true self shine through unapologetically— the very thing that had drawn Sunday to you.

Lively, brutish, undignified. You're a fool for having ever believed you'd be his one and only.

He shifts his head slightly, and you jolt when you feel his tongue trail over your nipple. He lifts one of his ungloved hands up to the other side of your chest. You bite down on the back of your hand to muffle a moan when he rolls one of your nipples between his fingers, still sucking at the other one.

Sunday hadn't told you he'd gotten engaged; you had to find out through the news six months later like everyone else had. He'd taken you on twenty-six dates during your period of blissful ignorance. At the time, you idly wondered why the places he'd taken you to were so secluded and hidden from the public eye— more than usual, at least.

You were making small talk with Siobhan at Dreamjolt Holstery when you got the notification of the engagement on your phone. The betrayal stung; you knew it was coming, but you felt blindsided by the fact that he hadn't told you himself, as soon as he found out.

You got blackout drunk that night, and you hadn't spoken to Sunday since then, not until tonight. You didn't open any of his texts, threw the handwritten letters he sent you in a drawer, and avoided the places he and his sister frequented like the plague.

And when you stood at the ballroom entrance, greeting the happy couple, he spoke your name in that reverent tone he reserved for Xipe.

And when he caught you alone in a hallway and pulled you into one of the private rooms, you didn't stop him. You couldn't. You didn't want to.

You can't stop him, his devout love, your name rolling off his tongue in fervent prayer. You don't want to.

You shouldn't be here.

Shame crawls down your spine, and you shove at his chest, hard this time. He looks up at you, face twisted in confusion and desperation.

"Did I hurt you, angel?" He whispers, his lips and breath tickling your skin.

"You're going to hurt me." Your voice is hoarse, barely audible. "You're going to hurt them. They're kind. They don't deserve this."

He stares at you, and you turn away to study the intricate wallpaper, unable to handle the intensity of his gaze. You move your hands down to gather your top and put it back into place.

Sunday catches you by the wrists, pulling himself up to meet your line of vision. He presses his lips against yours. It's everything and nothing all at once: tender and starved, lingering and fleeting. He barely parts, and you can feel the movement of his lips against yours when speaks.

"Please," he begs. "If I can't have you in the future, at least let me have you tonight."

Your heart aches. Tears prick at your eyes. "We shouldn’t be doing this."

"Please." He moves away, raising the back of your hand to his lips. "I need you."

"Sunday." Your voice catches on the last syllable of his name, and the first few tears slip out before you can stop them. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."

A lifetime and silence and stillness passes between you before he finally pulls away. His fingertips graze your skin as he helps you put your top back on. Your fingernails scratch at his scalp as you comb through the tangles in his hair.

He reaches for his gloves, but pauses, hands hovering in the air for a moment. He ends up settling them on your cheeks, pulling you in for one more kiss. This one is soft and uncertain, just like the first was.

"I'm sorry."

You grit your teeth and blink against the tears. "It's not your fault." You pause, then add, "I'm happy for you."

The pain that flashes in his eyes has you regretting the words. He sighs and releases you, finally moving out of your way. You push yourself off the wall, keeping your eyes forward as you head for the door. Your hand lands on the knob, and you stop when you hear him call for you again.

He speaks so softly you almost miss it. "I love you."

It's the first time he's ever said it.

A choked sob escapes your throat, and you throw the door open, rushing out without glancing back.

In the vacant hallways, the joyous sounds of laughter and jazz reverberate off the walls. Tears roll down your face.

You shouldn't be here.

#hsr x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr angst #hsr sunday x reader #hsr sunday #sunday hsr #sunday x reader #hsr smut #ceru.writes #ceru.hsr #ceru.nsfw

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amourdivine · 1 year

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18+ PICK A CARD ꣹ WHAT ABOUT YOU TURNS THEM ON?

Hello, lovelies, I hope you're doing well! This was a highly requested reading & the winner of my poll! Feedback is always welcome. If you liked this reading, please consider booking a paid reading or tipping me at @ [email protected]! xo ♡

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none of the images are mine unless stated otherwise!

how to choose your pile. take deep breaths for a few minutes & look at each and every one of the piles separately. see which one brings you to a feeling, a place or a memory. take your time and feel free to come back to it later.

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disclaimer. this is a general reading for entertainment purposes. tarot is a divination tool & is not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i do not take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings.

amourdivine. 2021 - 2023 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

PILE ONE

the world ✧ six of wands ✧ strength

This person is turned on by your success (lol), let me explain: they love it when you show off your accomplishments, the knowledge you've acquired, the wisdom you possess. If you speak more than one language, they get very turned on by that. This person really roots for you, they get all hot & heavy when you're in the spotlight, unafraid to state how gorgeous or handsome you are. They love it when you're feeling yourself (pun intended), when you know your worth and act like it. When you're confident and badass.

For some, the way you walk or talk has something about it that lures them in. I think your poise and how you handle your achievements, your career and academic pursuits has them not only feening for you, but also gawking in deep admiration. You have a star quality to you, maybe you're famous in your field or you aspire to be known in some type of way.

If you post pictures of yourself on vacations, specifically by the beach or some other sunny, beautiful place, they gets really turned on by that. They're a visual kind of person - if you regularly dress up or wear makeup, for example, it turns them on. I'm hearing "everything you do turns them on", they're your biggest fan, pile #1. This person is attracted to success - not in an opportunistic way, for most of you.

I also got that this person loves your height; if you're insecure about a specific body part, that's the part that they actually love the most, because it stands out about you. I feel a voyeuristic quality to this person, they love to watch you in moments you're caught up in your own duties.

channeled song: Papparazzi by Lady Gaga.

channeled messages: long limbs, legs for days, victoria's secret, "you're an angel", siren eyes, hooded lids, bedroom eyes, scorpio or taurus rising, capricorn, leo.

PILE TWO

knight of cups ✧ four of cups ✧ nine of pentacles

This pile has a similar feel to pile one, so if you feel drawn to it, feel free to check it out. However, pile two feels softer.. a little dreamier, almost. This person is turned on by how unbothered, independent you are. Chances are you built your success from zero and you're hell bent on being independent, whether in a relationship or not, you like relying on yourself.

I'm getting a specific fantasy here - they fantasize about being your savior, your knight in shining armor, swooping in and saving the day. They love helping you, but they know you don't need it. It conflicts them, but it turns them on, at the same time. All the messages here are heavily specific, like carrying you to the bedroom or being carried by you. There's something here about the bridal style. You probably look really good in white, lacy outfits or well- lingerie. If you don't wear lingerie, then this person wants to wear it for you.

Honestly, they love how unimpressed you are, but they want to woo you, to take you out, give you a proper date and then savor you all night. This person wants to be the only one that gets to impress you, to hold you and have you. I feel a bit of a possessive energy here as well, not malicious but definitely more dominant, which is likely to come out in the bedroom. If you're already with this person, they really love it when you let them perform acts of service or give you gifts to show you their love. They have a "provider" kind of feeling to them, probably a mommy or daddy kink as well.

channeled song: Good for You by Selena Gomez.

channeled messages: mine, sub/dom dynamics, "angel baby", "sunshine baby", service dom, wine & dine, jewelry, 30, 333, pluto dominant, scorpio, burgundy.

PILE THREE

three of wands ✧ page of cups ✧ king of swords

Chances are you're not with this person, but even if you are, they love the little mind games. You pique their interest, you make them want more and more everytime. It's something you effortlessly do - you're interesting and intellectually stimulating. Naturally, I have to mention this person loves it when you challenge or tease them, especially sexually. I feel like there's some distance between the two of you, maybe this is a long distance relationship and you haven't been intimate yet, but they loooove staring at your pictures. If you've sent them explicit messages or videos, they get all hot & heavy thinking about your voice or how you sound.

This person gets turned on by how vocal you are, in more than just one aspect. You're witty and bright, but you know when to be serious, when to use your words for the things that matter. They get turned on by how smart you are; they always learn a new word, a new concept or skill when they're with you. This person may like to "rile you up" or have small debates with you because it gets them in the mood (lol), it turns them on to see you not back down from an argument and win it everytime. Your voice, lips and mannerisms are really hot to them as well, if you regularly wear professional attire or attend very formal settings (like work in a corporate job or go to places that require uniforms), it really turns them on. They fantasize a lot about tearing these clothes and that serious demeanor off of you.

You may be cheeky as well and they catch glimpses of this more fun, lighthearted side of you. It also turns them on. There's an unpredictable quality to you that keeps them on their toes, which inevitably makes them very affected. I think your presence is more than enough to turn this person on, they love to observe you and watch how you move. If this is a coworker or a person you can't or haven't been intimate with for "taboo" reasons, they fantasize about breaking all the rules and abandoning all logic for you.

channeled song: Back for More by TXT ft. Anitta.

channeled messages: gemini, duality, vice and virtue, friends with benefits, "i can't have you the way that i want", "you're my weakness", casino nights, whiskey, drinking, "i can't stop thinking about you", "light up a joint", slow burn, hazy summer nights, partying.

PILE FOUR

the hierophant ✧ the moon ✧ four of cups (clarified by the star)

You're marriage material - and that's what turns this person on: your stability, how mysterious you are, unwilling to give yourself to anyone who isn't worthy of you. I think you're focused on your own healing, your journey and beliefs. You may be someone who simply marches to the beat of your own drum and you're not willing to sacrifice your ideals for the sake of maintaining a partner.

This "inflexibility" and the way you're unavailable to anything that doesn't meet your standards really turns this person on. It makes them want to step up for you and themselves too. This person loves it that you work for the long term goals, you're someone people trust and want by their side. Perhaps you're a teacher or someone who's seen as an authority, experienced and wise. There's a patience, a method to your madness, something only you know. You're very hardworking and practical, you cut through the BS to find the truth in situations.

You're not someone who entertains or pursues short term commitments or flings, for example. I think this person is turned on by your character, you probably have strong ethics and you're more traditional, there's a safety to you, a certainty. You're loyal and committed, it makes them want to devote themselves to you, to come home to you every night. This pile is more vanilla than the others; they like your depth, I think you're very classy and it turns them on.

They get turned on by your high standards, your beliefs and family values. This person knows you're reliable, they think you're the ultimate dream partner to anyone. You're rare and special - you know it. They get very affected by the thought of having you as their one and only.

channeled song: Focus on Me by Ariana Grande.

channeled messages: wife/husband/spouse material, mysticism, faith, religion, church, psalm 17:8, "tell me what's your motive", motivational speakers, slow dating, "remember what you deserve", divine counterpart.

amourdivine. 2021 - 2023 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

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yrluvjane · 6 months

Note

thankyou for writing the req. it was so so so sweet. i have like so many ideas, i love that you wanted more. like we know our dear Jamie is a simp, right? like in the best way of course. how about a reader who could give James a run for his money? like it's well known that she flirts with everyone and never means it. it's kind of her personality. very James coded actually. like she looks like she's a little in love with all her friends. and our boy cannot figure out if she likes him or is just being her usual self.

Send them all! Even if I can't write them, I die just reading them! It's a bit late I'm so sorry darling, i had my exams and i just finished them today.

You've always been popular, always the life of the party, always the center of attention. No matter where you went, people always seem to gravitate towards you, drawn to your charismatic charm and energy. And you can't help but be flattered, of course. It's always nice to have so many friends, and so many admirers.

James was always amazed at how you interacted with others, making everyone feel special in their own way.

It's the way you can make everyone feel like the center of attention, the way you can bring out the best in people, the way you can make everyone in the room laugh. It's like you're the master of all social skills. You could chat up a stranger in an elevator, make them feel like a friend in minutes.

At first, James was reluctant to admit - to himself and others - that there may be a chance he was developing feelings for you. He thought it was just another example of your natural charm, but as time went on, he realized that he was falling hard. He always found himself seeking you out at every party or event, hoping to spend just a few more minutes in your company. He found himself longing for your laughter, your smile, your touch.

But then, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy whenever he saw you smiling at someone else or laughing at their joke. He wanted to be the one who made you smile, who made you laugh.

In the beginning, it was subtle. James would always find ways to touch you - small caresses, quick grazes - to grab your attention, to make you feel special.

He would laugh at your jokes, even the bad ones.

And yet, he could never quite figure out if you felt the same.

And then, one day, he asked you on a date.

James hesitated at first, afraid of what the answer might be, but then he thought of the regret he would feel if he didn't take the chance.

You said yes.

But even then, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. You were always flirtatious, and James didn't know if your yes was genuine or simply a continuation of your open personality.

"What if she doesn't actually like me? What if she thinks i just meant like a friend-date?"

Sirius scoffed, "James, don't be ridiculous. She wouldn't have said yes if she didn't want to go on out with you. And I wouldn't be anywhere near here if I thought all this preparing would be a waste of time. You can't back out now, you've been waiting months for this!"

James wasn't sure if were months but yeah maybe he was counting down the days to this. He had carefully selected his outfit, making sure everything was just right. And he had prepared himself for the date, researching the perfect conversation topics and making sure he had a backup plan in case the conversation ran dry. He's tongue has gone awfully numb from the amount of minty breath spray he'd sprayed and fingers aching from running them through his hair all the time.

He turned and looked himself in the mirror jumping lightly on his heels. "I've got this," James told himself. "I can be confident, charismatic, and charming - just like I am in every other aspect of my life." He rolled back his shoulders.

Sirius stared at his friend in amusement, as James continued his self-motivation. "I'm awesome. I'll show her that."

James faced his friend with a new found confidence, "I'm ready!" He declared as though he would be walking into battle.

"That's the spirt, Prongsie!...Where are you going?"

"To wait for her."

"There's still an hour left."

"What if she arrives early? First impressions are very important. Can't have her think I'm some tardy twat." James smiled and winked at his friend as he walked through the door.

#marauders era #james potter #james potter x reader #harry potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #harry potter #james potter drabble #james potter fluff #james potter blurb

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kurishiri · 7 days

Text

william v.s. darius . . . william rex epilogue 🌹

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: very suggestive scenes that are awkwardly translated. also i translated this at 1am; you've been warned lmao

Kate: So we’re going shopping!

William: That we are. It’s become less crowded now, which would make it the ideal time for window shopping, right?

W: Let’s choose something together. One that would suit you.

Unlike the lively buzz of the street fair, where many people had gathered,

here, we didn’t have to worry about our surroundings, so we could walk at our own pace.

(Will knew that, so he invited me here.)

(…And the fact I could spend time together with him like that was a delightful reward as well.)

William: That outfit looks charming. It seems like it would fit your air.

Kate: Wah, this looks wonderful! It goes well with the skirt next to it too.

I was happy at how we walked side by side as well, in a good mood, and——

Kate: …Could we hold hands?

William: What a coincidence. I was just thinking the same.

When his beautiful fingers touched mine, our fingers intertwined together.

Kate: Hehe, thank you.

I squeezed his hand back, when…

Kate: Ah.

As if being led away, my eyes stopped on something,

with that something being a crimson red ribbon that went with a dress that left quite an impression.

When William followed my gaze, he narrowed those red eyes.

William: Indeed, I can easily imagine you in that.

W: Then, this dress is for you.

—— Time skip; William’s room ——

Kate: …How does it look?

I tried on the dress that I had gotten as a present as soon as we returned.

In response, Will, who was sitting on the sofa, narrowed his eyes, making their way from the top of my head to my toes.

William: Would you mind spinning around for me?

Kate: Like this?

When I did as I was told, the crimson ribbon fluttered.

William: It does suit you.

Kate: Thank you. Then I’ll be wearing this on our next date.

I looked down at myself, biting down on the feeling that sprung from within me,

when I realized the way he was looking at me.

His gaze on me seemed to hold a bewitching smile,

and I felt a familiar twinge that had been locked within me resurface.

Kate: …Will.

I found myself drawn to him, until I stood right across.

Kate: I want you to kiss me.

William: ——Then come here, my robin.

With that invitation, I sat atop his legs, and when our faces drew together, close enough where I could feel his breath…

His hands caressed my cheeks.

Those eyes, the color of blood, held a hint of amusement.

Kate: …Don’t keep me in suspense like that.

William: Hehe, my apologies.

W: I simply wanted to see more of you being honest with your desires.

Becoming more excited with how his fingers teased my lips, I took his finger into my mouth. [1]

William: ……… [surprised]

W: Pfft, haha. It makes me happy that you’d like to have a taste of my fingers as well.

W: But then you won’t be able to kiss me like that, right?

Kate: Ah…

Withdrawing his thumb, half-open lips met with one impatient for a kiss.

Kate: Mn…

His tongue slipped in, giving me a numbing sensation as they playfully intertwined together——

And when he let go, he gave a small smile.

William: …You are free to decide what it is your heart seeks and what you would like to do.

Kate: …I know.

William: And perhaps your heart may change. Our feelings can’t be restricted, nor should they ever be.

W: Of course, not by others, and not even by ourselves.

Kate: …So that is to say,

K: I am free to do as my heart wants. And even in this very moment [2], I love you, Will.

William: Yes, I figured as much.

Kate: Huh?

William: Your heart is close to mine, and we are not separated in the slightest.

W: That is how my heart feels——at any moment in time.

Kate: Will…

My lover before my eyes seemed to always, no matter in which moment in time, take pleasure in unraveling what was in my heart.

Feeling this, I…

Kate: If we stack even these smallest moments… they can become an eternity.

William: …Indeed.

Our lips met once more, being fondled affectionately in my mouth.

William: And I would like to have a taste of you, to my heart’s content.

W: If it is as you say, and these small moments can become an eternity… I would like to embody it.

Kate: …Will…

When I kissed him, he sought me deeper.

William: Should we take it to the bed? Or…

Kate: …Haa… I want more… like this…

William: …I imagine it would be quite frustrating to move, after all.

With the ribbon of the dress undone, my chest relaxed [3].

As if the wrapping of the present was removed, my skin was now exposed,

and my nipples gave way to my desire.

William: …Kate.

With his lips calling my name, his tone filled with emotion, pleasure rushed through me.

William: Could I engrave my feelings in you?

He sucked on my breasts, leaving a mark as red as his eyes.

The throbbing in my core excited me and trickled within me,

and I welcomed his palm as it slid in——

While indulging in the sweet excitement he gave me, I tasted the pleasure of this small moment in time.

Fin.

will vs darius jude vs nica alfons vs ring

← prev fin

NOTES:

[1] I wasn’t sure how to phrase this; part of it may be like midnight or 1am translating, but I also wasn’t completely sure how to translate this part of the line [その指先をはむりと含んだ] (sono yubisaki wo hamuri to fukunda) as well. So I’m mostly kind of guessing based on the context of the lines that come after.

[2] Kate uses the word [刹那] (setsuna) here, which means a moment or instant, though this particular word, unlike another similar meaning word, [瞬間] (shunkan), [刹那] is derived from the Sanskrit word kshana, which in Buddhism refers to the “shortest possible interval of time.”

[3] They say here [胸元が緩む] (munamoto ga yurumu), where [胸元] refers to like the chest or breast area (but can also mean the solar plexus), while [緩む] means like to loosen, slacken, relax, that kind of thing, both for tangible things like parts of the body and intangible things like rules. I’m not really sure exactly how to translate this, but it’s probably referring to how a woman’s breasts are bare, without the support of anything like a bra.

END NOTES: the difference between will and darius' end was interesting, like how they both treated the boy. they're probably trying to hit home the differences between them... which darius seemed to pick up on. i wouldn't say i'm very good at translating william, per se, but i did enjoy his story as well, and just the way he spent time with kate and darius! i feel they highlighted a lot of characteristics of his here that i feel many would like, appreciate, or be drawn to.

full masterlist 🌹🪽

#again apologies for any awkwardly tled lines!#but still i hope you enjoyy #i meant to get this done yester #but .. stuff happened ;v;#ikemen villains #ikevil #イケメンヴィラン #ikevil william #ikevil william rex #william rex #ikemen villains william #cybird ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #ikemen series #otome game #otome #ikevil translation #ikevil translations

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digitalagepulao · 1 year

Text

Prodigal son terror

Li Jing in a fury grabbed his halberd, leapt on his horse and galloped out of the headquarters. He was astonished to see Nezha with his Wind-Fire Wheels and Fire-Tipped Spear. He swore loudly, "You damned beast! You caused us endless suffering before your death, and now that you've been reborn, you're troubling us again!"

"Li Jing! I've returned my flesh and bones to you, and there's no longer any relation between us. Why did you smash my golden idol with your whip and burn down my temple? Today I must take my revenge!"

since I'm on a Nezha streak, might as well do my design for him on the Expedition AU! given that i've chosen to give characters a closer likeness to their region, it's only fitting i do the same with import deities like Guanyin, Subodhi and Nezha.

he's a complicated figure to place in the timeline because he gained popularity as a deity much after, only really arriving in China by the time the Journey would have been set. FSYY was written closer to when JTTW was written down, and he was retroactively inserted on the Zhou Dynasty period.

so deciding what to even do with him is dicey. but then i said fuck it, mythological rules apply here, he was around for the events of FSYY, and it and JTTW are set in the same universe. and for the sake of having some fun, i decided to get funky with his concept.

Nezha had the likeness of his family when he was alive, as described in FSYY, but once he was reborn with a lotus body he gained Indian traits instead. this is to be a nod to his status as an import deity and his origin as Nalakubara, and as the centuries roll by he may present himself to mortals closer to the locals' appearance wise.

as for his looks, i drew inspiration from multiple sources. read more for my rambles <3

his armor is closer to reconstructions of Zhou dynasty-period armor, skipping over extra parts simply because his lotus body is so indestructible, there's no need for a full set;

there are two red Chinese knots with jade beads dangling from the armor ties. they are said to ward off evil spirits, which felt like a good fit for a guy known to banish demons. i picked a six-petal flower pattern, which represents reunion, unity and a bright future;

i included lotus petals and leaves on his outfit as they are common in Beijing Opera outfits for him, and his makeup is a call to it as well;

The pink from the cheeks and eyeshadow seeps into his ear shell, as to convey the way sometimes, you get so angry even your ears blush;

Another thing i referenced from Opera is the two red ribbons on his sidelocks, though I changed them to two bulbs of lotus roots;

Four petals drawn close to his urna as both to make it look like a lotus but also form five petals, which is an auspicious number;

His hair crown is a fancy princely [knot] with a lotus motif and a pearl in the center, as he was the Pearl Spirit before becoming Nezha;

I was going to go with elf-like ears but I thought I could do better, so I went for stretched earlobes instead. you can't see it that well but hopefully the very large golden earrings imply it well enough xvx;

His cheek dimples are common sight on religious images of him and it was a cute touch imo;

Younger Nezha wears a golden robe because of his title as General of the Central Altar in Daoist belief, and the center direction is connected to yellow or gold, and yellow robes are usually meant for emperors and their sons, which is a minor nod to his self-assureness and boldness;

The Cosmic Ring has spiralling grooves on it both to catch blades on it for defense but also as a callback to Opera props;

On his waist is the embroidered ball weapon he was attributed with in earlier myths, he was also meant to have the leopard skin bag Taiyi Zhenren gave him, bjt it was going to be obscured by the text so i omitted it;

A few depictions of him gave him a halo of fire, which was real cool so i added it as well.

#fengshen yanyi #investiture of the gods #fsyy #iotg #li nezha #nezha #third lotus prince #third prince nezha #expedition to the west au #bell dragon art

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adoringmha · 1 year

Note

Bakugou reaction to his s/o wearing something revealing💍

this is almost a year old i'm so sorry :/

but kinda related to the last blurb i posted, i think he would just go feral, tbh. if you're in public, not necessarily through his actions, but his thoughts. all he's thinking about is just, you you you.

say you meet up with him and your friends (the bakusquad) at the bar since it was easier than having him come pick you up all the way on the other side of town from his agency. (he wanted to but you insisted he not go through the trouble and sometimes he just can't say no to you. the only reason he even came out was because you asked!)

so he didn't get to see your outfit beforehand. as soon as you walk in, his eyes are practically glued to you. he has tunnel vision and he can barely hear anyone or anything else around him.

denki even teases him with a dumb joke, "you know you're allowed to blink. right?"

and bakugo doesn't even spare him a glance, just gives him a quiet "shut the fuck up" in response, still entranced by you, as if the words would distract him.

your eyes are immediately drawn to your man like a magnet and you feel all warm when you notice him lick his lips as he watches you.

as you get closer, his legs automatically open up for you to sit on his lap and you do, fitting together like puzzle pieces. you kiss him hello and then greet everyone else, all of them smiling and smirking at how bakugo has not once taken his eyes off you since you entered the establishment. but since they know he's happy now that you're here, they don't bother him too much, just carry on with conversation, asking you how you've been.

eventually, you turn back to him and his eyes are raking over your figure, one arm wrapped around your waist, one hand holding you tight, the other rubbing your thigh up and down. and the feeling of him all up under you and his skin on yours is making you question how long you can actually last out there in the open without dragging him someplace private.

he whispers to you and it feels like you two are the only ones in the room. "you look good."

you bite your lip to stop your embarrassingly cheesy smile.

"yeah?"

he nods. "yeah. look fucking gorgeous. always do, you know that."

you smirk and fight every urge in your body not to make out with him right then and there, remembering that you are actually in public, even if he makes you feel like you're the only two on the planet.

"dressed up just for you." your voice is sweet but the words come out in a teasing whisper.

he licks his lips again and lets his eyes roll over your body slowly, drinking you in as he squeezes your thigh and you feel yourself throb. he smirks and you know he felt it. his eyes shoot back up to yours and your breath hitches.

anyway, you end up bent over the sink in the bathroom and after that you're both way too needy for each other, so you go straight home to continue. <3

#bakugo #bakugo x reader #bakugo blurb #mha #mha x reader #mha blurb #bakugo smut #mha smut

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lilacgaby · 11 days

Note

Gworly I've requested this to two people already and no one made😭(third time's the charm?)

But yeah is it alr if I request a bakugo OR/AND touya × Fem reader? (You can do either, or both. Totally upto you)

So the reader has strict parents + she's really really really insecure? Like this is kinda self indulgent but is it okay for me to ask or angst?? (I love destroying my brain) Like the reader is chubby and short and really insecure + her parents say smth which makes her even more insecure. She only has one close friend and she feels like they're growing apart. That's when katsuki/touya find out that reader has a crush on em through the doodles in her class notes (she forgot to take home ) and when they try to return it, they find her crying in her dorm(or room, if ur doing touya) then she kinda vents out her loneliness and they try to help her out?

I personally feel like this req is kinda long so you can do either one instead of both.

Tysm!! It's alright if you don't write about it, I still appreciate it!

Lot's of love, thanks again <3

it seemed nothing was going right for you.

you've failed another test. in reality, you just got a b, but that was unacceptable by your family's standards. you knew they'd take away your phone if they found out, so you just kept it under wraps.

standards were high everywhere, and you couldn't help but to compare yourself to everyone. people like momo, who were both brains and beauty? it made you feel horrible, the green bug of jealousy a constant presence in your life now.

you were shy too, so you didn't really have a way to let out your feelings. your friends from junior high didn't make it into U-A, and they've slowly stopped talking to you. stopped replying to your texts, stopped answering your calls, stopped inviting you places. and while the girls were all sweet to you and invited you out with them, it always tugged in the back of your mind that they were doing it out of obligation. passing by isn't the same as being a real friend after all.

the only solace you found was from sketching. should you have been focusing on the lecture mr. aizawa said was really important for the next exam? yeah, but you were just so out of it.

you finally started to take basic notes of the subject when the bell rang, you sighed and quickly got your bags and almost ran out of class, leaving your book of 'notes' splayed out on your desk.

katsuki noticed it, everyone else had already left at this point, so he couldn't just hand it to one of the girls and go on with his day so.. he went over to reach it.

however, he noticed the drawings of him that were randomly drawn around your notes, that he noticed you didn't finish. the drawings ranged from chibi versions of him in his hero outfit, to a sketch of his side profile of when he was taking notes.

he decided to give it back to you, as you now interested him. he almost felt flattered at the way you depicted him.

he was in front of your dorm, about to knock in his usually brazen manner, but the sounds of choked back sobs caught his attention. were you crying? about what?

he knocked gently, and after he heard a bunch of scrambling around the room, you opened your door. your eyes were clearly pink and swollen, still wiping your eyes as you answered. "oh, bakugo? what are you doing here?"

he held out your notebook, making your eyes widen. "you didn-"

"i did. let me in."

you took your notebook and stood to the side, letting him into your room.

he scratched the back of his head, eyeing you. eventually he sighed and just came out with it. "so, i'm not really good at this shit but, what's up with you? you've been acting weird."

you opened your mouth to protest, but he put a hand up. "none of that 'i'm fine' bullshit. i saw how upset you were."

you looked at the floor, feeling tears blur your vision.

he awkwardly held his arms out and you crashed into his arms, your face in his chest, your tears staining his shirt as he held you.

he sat you on your bed, and you relented. telling him everything, about your parents, about how you felt so socially isolated, about how you felt so hopeless when compared to the others in your class.

he sat quietly and proceeded to alleviate some of your stresses one by one. telling you how you were still talented, regardless of a grade. how your parents were in the wrong and that you shouldn't be ashamed. how the girls and the class all spoke highly of you in your absence.

it felt nice to finally be understood, you thought as you rested your head on his shoulder.

#third time IS the charm #lilac asks❤︎︎#bakugo comfort #bakugo drabble #bakugo #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski #bakugo x you #katsuki x you #mha x you #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x reader

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tunaababee · 4 months

Text

we will be everything we say - Chapter 8/Epilogue

masterlist // fic playlist // read on AO3 // overall rating: e // wc this chapter: 5.3k

Feyre Archeron has been best friends with Rhysand Sterling ever since she moved onto the same street when they were kids - the two became absolutely joined at the hip, with nothing able to come between them.

As they get older, life gets more complicated and things get harder. Not everything comes as naturally as it once did. People change, things happen, friends... drift.

But after drifting apart, maybe life can push them back together again, in time.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a/n: thank you all so much for coming with me on this journey. this fic has been my baby for a long while so it feels weird to have it fully out in the world, but i hope you've enjoyed! also, biggest shoutout to @climbthemountain2020 - the best beta reader a girl could ask for and without whom this fic wouldn't have been possible. <3

more smut in here btw! have fun <3

Chapter 8/Epilogue: forever and always

Being with Rhys felt so easy – as natural as breathing. Since they had gotten together a bit over a year ago, life hadn’t always been smooth sailing and stress-free, but it was definitely easier to roll with the punches with him by Feyre’s side. She wouldn’t trade it for the world, though she was still always in a bit of disbelief as to just how loving and kind he was towards her. Every day with him felt like a gift she didn’t deserve but treasured all the same.

Since that night, things had definitely moved… fast, to say the least. With any other person, Feyre would have thought that moving in together after only two months would have been insanity. But, of course, it had simply been a natural next step with the amount of time she spent at Rhys’ place and vice versa. Besides, they’d already spent twenty years getting to know each other – it’s been overly drawn out if you ask me, Rhys would say whenever she asked him if he was sure about it all. Soon enough, she’d gotten settled into the roomy apartment in Velaris over in uptown Prythian, and it had quickly gone from his to theirs. The first few months of living there he couldn’t help but get giddy like a schoolboy every time she called it home. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel the same way, but he gushed about it to her every minute he could, and it made her laugh. It certainly made her stomach flutter every time he followed ‘my home’ up with ‘my girl’ and ‘my Feyre’, though.

They’d set aside a workspace in the apartment that the two of them shared – Rhys busy designing dresses and suits and outfits in between paperwork at his ever-cluttered desk, Feyre painting and drawing and bringing her visions to life right next to him. Her art career had been kicking off at a steady pace – she was being regularly featured in various gallery shows, alongside her online art store comprised of her more fun works bringing in a comfortable amount of sales. Rhys was succeeding all on his own merit as well, which didn’t surprise Feyre in the slightest considering all his ambition. Night Triumphant was becoming more and more reputable as a brand, beginning to have a handful of brick-and-mortar stores slowly but surely expanding across the country, meaning he was travelling more often for work. The two of them would collaborate sometimes as well, with Feyre making artworks that got printed on custom fabric and made into the most stunning garments, often for her to wear if Rhys had his way. It wasn’t uncommon for one of them to find the other watching them work before they were all over one another. If there was one thing the two of them couldn’t ever get enough of, it was each other. They managed to make it work and live comfortably pursuing their dreams, and Feyre couldn’t think of another time she’d been so happy in her life.

But right now, it was New Year’s Eve, and the two of them had each been busy with their own respective business – Rhys had been trying to fulfil the higher demand from people wanting a stunning outfit over the holidays, while Feyre had been dealing with her own higher volume of orders for the giving season. Balancing time with their friends and family, each other, and working had been difficult and they’d definitely had to set some of it on the backburner to make sure they met all their commitments. Late nights, long days and bone-deep exhaustion that only that lazy week between Christmas and New Years could allow them to recover from. Both of them had been too tired to do much of anything besides sleep and binge Netflix together, but at least they were together.

Tonight, they had decided they should go and see their friends for a few drinks to help ring in the new year, the two of them having gone a little bit stir crazy after a while.

“We don’t have to stay out all night, right?” Feyre called from their bedroom, rifling through the closet in nothing but underwear and a bra to try and find a nice but comfortable outfit for the night.

“Not unless you want to, darling. But you know I’m never opposed to sneaking out of anything early with you.” Rhys’ tone was playful as he came up behind her, arms wrapping around her bare waist before pressing a kiss to the delicate spot between neck and shoulder.

She turned her head to press a kiss to his temple with a smile before focusing back on her task. “True, but we have to actually get out of the door to do that in the first place. Now go get ready!”

With a playful swat to his hip he let her go, hands in the air in mock defense before grabbing some clothes of his own and retreating to the bathroom. The cheeky, Cheshire Cat grin never left his face the whole time she could see him, and it always made her heart do a little flip, beating in double time. Everything about Rhys always made her feel like a kid with a schoolyard crush in the best way – like she was able to tangibly grab that lost time she hadn’t had with him in her hands and make it real.

Feyre carefully picked through the closet before settling on something that definitely leaned more on the casual side of things, but still made her look and feel good. She grabbed a tight-fitting white crop top, paired with her favourite black tennis skirt and thick, fleece-lined pantyhose to keep her warm despite the winter chill. Cute but comfy – exactly what she was after. There was also the added benefit of that it would drive Rhys a little bit insane, which she always took an immense amount of joy in.

As if he’d heard her thoughts like a moth to a flame, he came back into the room as she stood in front of their full-length mirror and pulled her top on. Rhys looked drop-dead gorgeous in a tight fitting henley shirt and dark blue jeans that outlined the quickly developing bulge in his jeans deliciously. She couldn’t help but smirk, fussing with the shirt and fiddling with the necklace around her neck – the same one he’d given her the night they had gotten together. She hadn’t stopped wearing it since.

There was a hunger in Rhys’ eyes as he leaned against the doorframe of their bedroom, biting his lip slightly as he folded his arms and raked his eyes over her.

“You almost ready to go, honey? I just need to grab my sneakers and a cardigan.” She looked at him over her shoulder, a twinkle in her eye as she schooled her face into the most innocent expression she could manage. She knew exactly what he was thinking when he looked at her like that.

“Mm, I’m not sure. I feel like I might have forgotten to do something before we go,” he said, crooking two fingers at her to beckon her closer, the silver rings he always wore gleaming against his skin. “Do you know what that could be, Feyre?”

Feyre took deliberately smaller steps than normal, drawing out the tension between them as she stalked closer and closer before she could slide her arms around his neck. “Mm, no idea what you could mean. What I do know is that if we don’t leave soon, we’re gonna be late to meet everyone else at Rita’s.”

He didn’t hesitate to grab her ass, roughly kneading the flesh there as Rhys tilted his head down to brush his lips over hers. “Let them fucking wait.”

Before Feyre could even try to pretend to put up a protest, he pressed his lips needily to hers, hands sliding down to the backs of her thighs to hoist her up effortlessly. Her back hit the wall, groaning into his mouth as she could feel his hips pressing relentlessly against her own as her legs wrapped round his waist. She couldn’t help but roll her hips to try and drive him even wilder, eliciting a delicious little moan from him that was music to her ears.

“You really thought we’d be able to leave the house on time? When you’re wearing that? Making yourself look all pretty just for me, hm?” Rhys’ lips and teeth made headway down the column of her neck, nibbling and biting and sucking to leave a trail of hickeys for everyone to see.

She hummed with satisfaction, a smile playing on her lips. “I thought I’d- ah- make at least a little effort since it’s N-New Years and all, what can I say?” A harsher nip to the crook of her neck made her gasp, a hand knotting itself firmly in his hair to press him closer as if there was any gap between them in the first place.

Rhys moved a hand from under her thigh to slip between their bodies, under her shirt, under her bra, to greedily palm at her breast and pull and tweak at her hardened peaks. He pulled his mouth away from her neck to lock his gaze with hers, an intensity in them that he reserved just for her. The eye contact with him always made everything feel so much… more and she lived for it.

“You can say my name as I make you take every inch of my cock,” Rhys grinded his hips against hers roughly to punctuate his sentence, rock hard against the searing-hot wet spot that was quickly soaking through her panties and beginning to show on the stockings she was wearing. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you Feyre? Being my little whore, taking everything I give you?”

She couldn’t do anything but whine, nodding dumbly as she tried to rut against him, attempting to develop more friction between their bodies. He smiled almost mischievously, gently placing Feyre onto her feet for barely a second before they were both scrambling – Feyre to yank her stockings and panties to the floor before tossing them aside, Rhys to be rid of his belt and undo his jeans. The moment he was finished, Rhys grabbed her hips with a bruising force that sent heat spearing through her centre. Feyre almost jumped back into his arms as he pushed her back into the same position they’d left off at. Her mind and body were practically putty in his hands, nothing but sticky, syrupy thoughts of the pleasure she knew full well he was capable of providing her running through her mind.

“You’re such a good fucking girl,” He muttered lowly, moving a hand lower and lower over her abdomen until his fingers began to drift teasingly through the folds of her pussy. “All soaking wet already.”

Her face was buried in the crook of Rhys’ neck, a desperate whimper leaving her as she bit down into his golden-brown skin with need. Her hips canted against his hand, fingers occasionally slipping inside her with exceptional ease before they drew right back out again. He was deliberately trying to drive her mad and it was working far too well. “Baby, please please fuck me already, pl-please, I need you- need you to fill me, unh- up so bad.”

The ministrations his hand provided stilled, Feyre’s head firmly falling back against the wall before she met his gaze. Rhys’ pupils were blown wide, his cock twitching at her words against her inner thigh. “Need me to fill you up, huh?”

Feyre nodded at him with a groan.

“Need to feel me come inside you? Fuck it into you nice and hard, like a little slut?”

She groaned lewdly at that, fingernails digging into the back of his neck. “Yes, baby, plea-ase.”

Without warning or ceremony, he lined himself up and quickly pushed inside her with no resistance, twin moans spilling from their mouths in delectable harmony. The hand that had been fisted around his cock quickly moved up to her neck, gripping lightly as the firm planes of Rhys’ body and his rough thrusts pinned her harder up against the wall over and over. The lock her legs had around his waist loosened, one of them pushed right back up with his free hand to hit as deep as he could, her feet bobbing up and down with every snap and roll of their hips into one another.

Feyre caught a glimpse of the two of them in the full length mirror she’d been preening in on the other side of the room a little while ago and oh god, the sight made a moan warble from her throat helplessly.

“Gonna fuck you so full, Feyre,” A whiny little ‘uh huh’ escaped her with every sentence, every ounce of filth he slurred into her ears. “Gonna make sure my darling is filled to the fucking brim, god, you were made for me.”

Feyre’s mind just got more and more hazy as she felt her climax build with each roll of her hips, every stroke of Rhys’ cock inside her pressing against that one spot that made her lose any sense she had. She could hear him babbling about so perfect and babygirl and would look so good with my baby inside you one day – it made it near impossible for her to form words or sentences even if she tried.

“C-Come, Rhys, I’m gonna c-“ Feyre didn’t even get to finish her sentence before she was letting the most depraved, guttural sound she’d ever heard loose from her throat as her walls tightened like a vice around Rhys’ cock. He kept fucking her right through, the sensation so intense that a stray few tears fell from her eyes as she focused solely on the complete ecstasy enveloping her. She was distantly aware of Rhys coming apart not long after her, making good on his promise to fill her well – sweat slicked his forehead, his gaze solely locked onto where their bodies joined and the slight hints of his spend she could feel leaking out of her around him.

After a few moments spent in the haze of each other’s warmth and embrace, peppered with kisses and sweet words mumbled in each other’s ears, Rhys pulled out – though not before gathering up what mess had dripped out of her cunt and indulging in a few extra moments inside her to fuck it right back in with a low moan. He slowly lowered her onto her feet, her legs trembling like baby fawn, barely keeping her up with the most satisfied look on her face. She looked down just as Rhys got to his knees, grabbing her soaked panties from the floor where they’d been hastily discarded and gently starting to coax them back onto her feet and up her legs. The span of his hands over her legs was comforting, the caring and delicate touches slowly bringing her back to reality as he helped her back into her stockings.

“We have to hurry Feyre darling; we’re going to be awfully late.” Rhys quipped as he stood up in front of her. She simply rolled her eyes with a laugh, lightly swatting his chest.

“As if you’ve started caring about that now.” Feyre fiddled with his hair, trying to form it back into something presentable as he tucked himself back into his jeans and made himself presentable once more – though not without a visible bite mark on him to match her own.

“What kind of partner would I be if I left my beautiful girl all empty and needy? Sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the greater good, you know.” He pressed a kiss to her temple, stroking her hair gently before stepping away to grab his phone. “Go do what you need to feel ready – I’ll call the Uber.”

She could feel her cheeks warm a little, but she was grateful for the extra time – she knew that the minute the two of them walked into Rita’s everybody would know why they were late. It wasn’t exactly the first time this had happened. But she at least wanted to look a little less messy – that was something she saved just for Rhys, and that was exactly the way the two of them liked it.

Before long she’d fixed her hair, slipped on her shoes and her thick black cardigan and walked with Rhys into the crisp night air.

It was already a little past eight-thirty when the two of them arrived, their circle of friends spotting them the minute they rolled through the door. Cassian had his brows arched dramatically sitting at the end of the booth, staring at Rhys as he tapped at an imaginary watch on his wrist. Azriel simply shook his head thoroughly with a smirk, while Mor looked far too satisfied for her own good at the whole affair. Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie couldn’t care less as they were thoroughly engrossed in trying to rope Amren into their book club. The attempt didn’t seem to be working.

“Wooow guys, over half an hour late? Shame on you two for making all of us wait! You’re lucky we haven’t ordered food yet.” Cassian’s tone was exaggerated and playful, Feyre simply grinning at his antics as she and Rhys slid in next to him the booth they had all piled into.

“They say patience is a virtue, Cass. You could learn a thing or two! We’re just trying to impart good values.” Feyre retorted, trying and failing miserably to keep a serious look on her face at him.

His façade broke after that, Cassian slinging an arm over Feyre’s shoulder to pull her into a tight hug with a wide smile and a laugh.

“So, what kept you two sooo busy, hmm? Important business I imagine?” Mor drawled, finger twirling around the rim of her cocktail with a ruby red grin on her face. She knew full well what kept them waiting, but everybody knew she loved getting a rise out of her friends.

Rhys didn’t hesitate, more than eager to rib back. “Well, if you must know, I was busy fuc-“

A crumpled-up ball of napkins hit Rhys square in the face as Nesta levelled a glare at him across the table, iciness in her eyes. “I’m glad my baby sister is happy, but I swear to fucking god, I do not want to hear about what you two get up to behind closed doors.”

Rhys responded with a jokingly smug ‘suit yourself,’ before he turned his attentions back to Feyre and the others at the table, everybody ordering enough food and drinks to feed what felt like an army – most of it almost certainly being consumed by Azriel and Cassian. Before long, they’d all worked up a pleasant enough buzz and Mor had dragged Emerie onto the dancefloor despite her many protests. This, of course, led to a chain reaction – Emerie begged for Gwyn to help, which led to Gwyn recruiting Nesta, which meant Feyre got dragged up too because no way was she going to be caught dead on a club dancefloor without as many people she could rope in as possible.

Normally Rhys and Cassian would opt to join them, Azriel having always preferred watching from the sidelines and wading into things at his own pace and Amren never forced into anything she didn’t explicitly want to do, but tonight they were suspiciously glued to the table in hearty but hushed discussion that Feyre could barely make out over the music. She didn’t pay it too much mind – it was likely about Cassian and Nesta’s wedding since it was just in a few months’ time, or how they were going to rope their respective partners into some harebrained idea that they’d cooked up together. Ultimately, whatever it was, she knew it wasn’t something to worry about and just focused on having a good time feeling the music in her bones and the alcohol in her body.

The time flew by as the clock ticked a bit past ten-thirty, Feyre sat squarely in Rhys’ lap and felt the exertion of the day catching up with her. As much as Rhys tried to look like he wasn’t feeling the tiredness seep into his bones, she could see it in the sag of his shoulders and the slight droop of his eyelids – it was time to call it a night. Before long they’d said their goodbyes, kisses on cheeks and all too-tight hugs from everybody who’d come.

“Can’t believe you’re not staying out ‘til the New Year rolls in. I think you might be getting old, sport.” Amren punched Rhys in the arm with a laugh, having always been a party animal when she felt like it – she was usually going one-for-one right by Rhys’ side through each and every drink.

“Am, you’re literally the oldest one here, are you sure your bones aren’t turning into dust?”

With a hearty laugh and an eye roll so fierce they could practically hear it, Rhys and Feyre headed home. As much as she loved the company of everybody, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t excited to jump into her pyjamas and get comfy for the night. She stepped out of the Uber and back into their apartment building with a long yawn.

“Ready to wind down for the night, love?” Rhys stood behind her, arms wrapped around her waist to hold her close against him on the elevator ride up.

“Mmhm. Sometimes I forget how tired I am until it hits me all at once, y’know?” Her head rested gently against his neck, his chin resting in her hair. She always loved when he held her close like this – no matter where they were, it felt like safety. Like home.

The elevator dinged softly as it got to their floor, Rhys being ever the gentleman and insisting on unlocking the door and ushering her through into their apartment before him. Feyre did a little curtsey with her tennis skirt, possibly hiking the hem a little higher than she needed to. But that was neither here nor there.

“Why thank you, Mr. Sterling! And they say chivalry is dead.”

He chuckled lowly with a small bow at the waist toward her. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss St- I mean, Miss Archeron.” A flush crawled up his neck and onto his cheeks, only matched by the way her own face was almost equally as pink in turn. It wasn’t the first time he’d almost called her ‘Miss Sterling’, but it made her tummy do flips and tie into knots more and more every time. It had a certain ring to it that she more than appreciated.

Ever the one to commit to the bit, Rhys delicately took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles as he met her gaze. Instead of letting her hand drop however, he used it to pull her in close and kiss her softly. “Go hop in the shower, darling. I’ll get a movie and some snacks set up for us, perhaps?”

A dreamy little sigh escaped her as she looked up at him, face as soft and kind as it had always been to her.

Her Rhys.

“You’re too sweet to me, you know.”

“Not sweet enough, if you ask me. Now get.” He gave Feyre’s backside a light swat to send her on her way, making her burst into a fit of giggles as she set out toward the bathroom.

She made sure to pick out her comfiest set of pyjamas and the fluffiest socks she owned, letting the water help ease the aches and weariness across her body. Especially her hips, but she didn’t really have any wiggle room to complain about that one. Feyre put her hair into a simple braid over her shoulder, softly padding out into the living room again as she wrapped a hair tie around the end of it, but she almost forgot what she was doing when she saw what had been set up in her absence.

It felt just like when they were kids.

Their couch, one of those fold-out futons for when there were one too many guests, had been pulled out and stacked with pillows and blankets galore, including the ones from their own bed. It almost looked like an impenetrable nest from where she was standing. The room was lit by only the glow of the widescreen TV and a few warm lamps throughout, with Howl’s Moving Castle already on the screen and paused for the two of them to begin at their leisure. In the middle of it all was Rhys, in his own pyjamas instead of just an old t-shirt for once, with two bowls nestled in his lap and both of their Steam Decks right next to him.

Exactly like when they were kids, but for who they were now.

The thought made Feyre’s heart beat in double-time – she’d never quite known what she did to deserve someone like Rhys, but she wasn’t going to start questioning it now. She climbed into the bed of blankets, making herself comfy as she struggled to wipe the incredulous look off her face. “What’s the occasion?”

“Just because we’re having a quieter New Year’s doesn’t mean we can’t still have a luxurious one. Besides, we’ve both been so tired lately – I figured we deserved a bit of a treat.” He held out a bowl to her, spoon sticking out of a thick bed of choc-mint ice cream. As she took it he scooted a bit closer, sides pressed together as he clicked ‘play’ on the movie and began to eat his own bowl of ice cream – boysenberry.

Some things truly never changed.

Feyre tried to press a firm kiss to his cheek, but he was quicker and turned his head to catch her lips with his own briefly. She simply smiled against his mouth before turning her attention to her own bowl, and not long after they’d both finished, to finding the most comfortable position for them both to play their games together. Eventually they settled on sitting up right next to one another, Feyre’s legs draped over the top of Rhys’ as they snuggled up under god-knows how many blankets.

As the TV was busy with Sophie Hatter’s journey up the palace steps to see the King’s witch, Rhys and Feyre were busy trying to water all their crops and save up for a better barn for their farm in Stardew Valley. Feyre had insisted that all their farm animals be named after foods, while Rhys had been much more hung up on making sure their crops were optimised for the maximum profit during the season. Maybe it was because he was a detail-oriented guy, maybe it was because Feyre kept spending all of their gold on decorating the farmhouse – who was to say? Either way, it was one of their favourite games to play together and tonight was no different. But they were in the middle of the Autumn season on a stormy day, when Feyre could feel Rhys’ gaze flicking between her and the game.

“Honey, you keep looking up at me and running into walls – everything okay over there?” She paused her game, setting her Steam Deck aside before doing the same with Rhys’.

“Yeah, I’m alright, I’m just – I got reminded of something, actually.”

“That’s awfully cryptic of you, haha.” She lifted a hand to brush his hair from his face, a few stray locks having fallen into his eyes, before resting her hand on his cheek. He leaned into her touch, eyes closing for a moment with a contented hum.

“Well, it’s something that I wanted to ask you before the new year and I have…” He grabbed his phone briefly, glancing at the time on the lockscreen. “…About eight-ish minutes left.”

“You sound pretty serious.”

“It is, heh, but probably not how you’re thinking. Close your eyes for a second.”

She did exactly as he asked, hands over her eyes, though Feyre was more than a bit puzzled. She knew by the furrow of her brow and the nervous laugh Rhys gave that she wasn’t on the same page as him quite yet and he knew it. The rustling of blankets and the shifting of Rhys beside her only added to the mystery.

“Okay, you can open them now.”

Feyre pulled her hands away from her face, a little confused as to what was different – she was looking straight out at the TV, unable to spot anything out of the ordinary, but she could feel Rhys’ stare locked onto her. Then he gently placed his hand on her leg over the thick down blanket, bringing her gaze down with it.

Right down to a pitch black, little velvet box.

Her hands shook a little bit as she reached out for it, looking between the box and Rhys over and over. Was this a fever dream? Was she imagining all of this? This felt far too good to be true.

But the feel of the smooth velvet in her fingertips assured her it was, as did the glittering ring it held inside. A deep purple amethyst, so deep it looked nearly black, sat in the middle of a delicately adorned silver band. It was shaped like a four-pointed star, with two smaller circular amethysts nestled on each side. A few other gems lay between and around them – knowing Rhys, they probably wouldn’t be anything less than diamonds – twinkling between them like the stars in the night sky.

It suited her perfectly. Suited Rhys’ tastes, as well. As soon as she saw it, she knew he’d probably been hiding it for what would have felt like forever to him. Knew that it was almost certainly what they were talking about at the bar.

“Is this for real?” Her eyes were wide as she looked up at Rhys, a few tears escaping against her will. He simply wiped them away with his thumb before tucking his fingers under her chin, making sure she couldn’t look away from him.

“Feyre, I can’t tell you for just how long I’ve wanted to call you my wife.”

“Well, at least the past few months since you keep almost calling me Miss Sterling.” The two of them laughed together for a moment, Rhys nodding slightly at her.

“You’ve got me there. But I mean it with every beat of my heart when I ask you…”

Rhys took the ring from the box with the hand that had been under her chin, the other coming to hold her left hand with a squeeze.

“Feyre Archeron, will you marry m-“

She kissed him with so much intensity, cutting off the end of the question, that she wasn’t sure she could ever quite express just how much she loved him – both in this moment and every other.

“Rhysand Sterling, I will marry the shit out of you.” She said against his lips, matching smiles spread across their faces.

Feyre pulled away for a second, letting Rhys slide the ring onto her finger before she climbed her way into his lap and kissed him again. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close as he kissed her right back with just as much fervour as she gave him.

It wasn’t lost on Feyre just how lucky she was, and it certainly wasn’t lost on the rest of the apartment complex either with how loud they were that night.

No matter what life had thrown at them or would present them with in the future, they both knew a universal cosmic truth – one they’d known for as long as they could remember. Every time, every world, every situation, it was going to be Rhys and Feyre together against the world.

Always.

the end.

#feysand #rhysand x feyre archeron #fanfiction #rhysand #feyre archeron #acotar #acotar fanfiction #friends to lovers

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