#after the canal+ show

[subtle-as-an-earthquake]

tiny little puppet 🩵 [x]

[brother-emperors]

I'm making a note about medici, because I tried to watch it but found it so dull I could hardly get through the first season. Can you reccomend any historical shows or films that do pass the vibe check?

off the top of my head, some personal favorites are: season one of Kingdom (킹덤) 2019 (period horror set in the Joseon era)

Barbarians (Barbaren) 2020 (arminius, baby!)

Heneral Luna & Goyo (philippine revolution)

Showtime’s The Borgias (all time favorite forever)

Wolf Hall (2015) (an adaption of Hilary Mantel’s novels)

[thelassoway]

Ted Lasso S01E06 Two Aces || Ted Lasso S02E06 The Signal

[vivelareine]

Excuse the low-res screenshots but show, are you okay? Marie Antoinette doesn’t want Maria Theresa to come visit her (the real Marie Antoinette from beyond the grave, watching this version snottily reject her mother coming to see her: “excuse me?!”) and Marie Antoinette tells Mercy, “Well, if she wants to see me so badly, send her my portrait.”

So... they send Maria Theresa a portrait of “Marie Antoinette” which is a portrait of the duchesse de Polignac from 1782 but repainted with, vaguely, this actress’s face. This timeline is--vaguely speaking--1778, since a scene in this episode shows Ben Franklin coming to Versailles.

Maria Theresa later asks, looking at the portrait: “What is she wearing?”

Good question, Maria Theresa. Good question. Fashion that hasn’t become a trend yet...

[sttoru]

fav concubine trying to top but sukuna is... sukuna so he fucks her full nelson <3

𝝑𝑒 SYNOPSIS. trying to show lord sukuna that you can indeed top him in bed ends up backfiring almost immediately & results in you nearly passing out.

wc. 1.2k

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut, pwp. size difference. full nelson position. degredation. objectification. mention of (almost) passing out. reader gets called ‘doll, little girl, woman.’ beta read? nope

“i can do it, my lord,” you huff stubbornly. you don’t know where you got the courage from to be so assertive tonight. maybe it’s because of sukuna’s earlier words—those mocking words that he uttered to get a rise out of you. or to see you scared, perhaps.

‘y’re gonna need to do a lot more to keep me entertained, doll. gonna get bored of ya if y’ don’t.’

the sentences repeat in your head like a never ending chant. on one hand, you know sukuna was simply trying to play with your emotions, but on the other hand, you’re afraid that there might be some truth to his words. so, you take up the challenge.

“y’ can’t do shit, little girl,” sukuna rolls his eyes as he sees you climb onto his lap. his thick thighs are spread, his broad back against the headboard of the bed.

he doesn’t even try helping you like he usually does, with his hands guiding your hips. if you’re stubborn enough to try and top the king of curses out of all people, you’re going to get minimal help.

“yes i can,” you mumble with a sense of uncertainty in your voice. you’ve never really done any of this. you’re usually on the receiving end, having sukuna easily move and bend your body however he sees fit. you’ve never imagined being in his place, “just watch me, my lord.”

you’re desperate to please him. you’re scared to lose your position as his favorite. you let the words get to your head—just like sukuna expected. the fact that you’re so gullible makes him stifle a condescending laugh.

“all ‘m seeing is you struggling to ride me,” the tall man clicks his tongue and his eyes lazily watch your attempts to sink down on his two, hard and dripping cocks. the contact his leaking tips makes with your cunt is enough to make sukuna grunt.

he’s trying hard to not slam you down on him fully. he’s used to take control—too used to it. seeing you struggle to even start is making him impatient.

“i-i’ll get it eventually, my lord,” you hiccup, nervous because of the fact that you’re topping such a huge man. he’s staring at you menacingly, all his arms crossed over his chest. your hips tremble as you slide one of his cocks into your warm pussy, both of you hissing at the direct contact.

you try to fit the other in the same hole, but you simply cannot handle it at the moment. his upper dick slips right out and bumps against your clit instead. you clumsily fumble with the same one, trying to make place for it in your cunt.

sukuna can’t hold it in anymore. having you clamping down on one of his massive cocks, his girth stretching your small canal to fit all of it to the base and your face contorting in both discomfort and pleasure is making him lose it. “this isn’t gonna work. need to fuck you properly, doll.”

you’re not even one minute in and he’s yanked your small body off his lap, forcefully turning you around until your back is pressed against his chest and your head is rolled back to rest near his shoulder. sukuna’s upper hands hold your legs up by the back of your knees. his bottom set of hands wrap around his cocks and pushes one through your sensitive cunt whilst he fists the other.

“fff— mhhh! my lord! nonono,” you tear up. partially because the sudden intrusion hurts your insides and the stretch is unexpected, but mainly because you’re scared that sukuna’s angry with you. you don’t wish to lose his interest in you, “i’m sorry, let me try again.”

the king of curses slaps your clitoris harshly after that comment of yours. “that a demand? foolish woman,” he scoffs and his hips thrust upwards against the fat of your ass. squelchy noises fill the chambers and spill outside of the room—it’s loud. the bed creaking is unmissable as well with how fast he’s pounding you.

sukuna bites into your shoulder and holds back his grunts like that. he’s relentless, drilling into your cunt so hard that you’re getting numb. your body is limp in his beefy arms and your rationality leaves your mind. you’re more than overwhelmed.

“sorry, ‘m sorry,” you whine and try to babble about something, but it’s all incoherent. you’re feeling lightheaded due to how much you’re taking of him. it feels amazing, soul ascending, but your emotions are in the way. even when you try not to show any attachment to the man you swore not to like.

sukuna ignores your pleas. his focus is on your slutty cunt swallowing every inch of his lower dick like its nothing. you’re used to it—he’s made you used to it—and somehow you’re still as tight as the first time. that and your submission to him is exciting. your adorable noises. the form of your body as it fits perfectly against his like you’re made for him.

you are made for him. your purpose is to please him, submit to him and give him what he deserves. that’s why he keeps you around.

“stop y’r whining,” sukuna grumbles. your knees are forced up against your ears and your tits are bouncing with each harsh thrust. “y’r a dumb fucking thing,” the king of curses presses down on the bottom of your stomach, increasing the pleasure for you, whilst also pleasing himself by knowing how deep you’re taking him, “do you think ‘m actually going to let you go?”

your eyes widen as sukuna picks up on your internal worries. you know there’s no hiding your feelings from him, even if you don’t talk about them to him. it’s like he can sense them. or see right through you with those piercing red eyes that leave you shivering for days.

“y’re too delicious to let go of. i don’t intend on letting anyone else get a taste of this pussy,” sukuna smirks and his tongue rolls out to lick your left ear. you gasp at the feeling and moan right after. you don’t try being quiet. you don’t care if anyone hears you. the reassurance was all you needed.

everyone around the estate knows you’re getting your guts rearranged by the same lord they serve. it’s the same routine every day.

“y’re mine,” sukuna grumbles and speeds up his thrusts until you’re seeing stars. you’re not sure if you can hold out for much longer. you can already feel your orgasm building up—and judging by sukuna’s tight grip on your thighs—he’s close to emptying himself deep inside you as well.

you try your best to keep up with everything, but your human mind can only focus on so much at once. you mumble some words in agreement as your head tilts to the side, your vision turning blurry and fuzzy, “all yours, m’lord.”

sukuna grins mischievously. he’s completely won you over. he’s got you wrapped around his finger. you’re easy, even if you think you’re the complete opposite. the skilled curse knows just what to say to make you all putty in his hands.

you’re gullible. easily manipulated. a perfect target for his mockery and teasing. that’s why he always has fun with you—whether it’d be in bed or not. his comment earlier was just to mess with you.

and expected, you walked right into his trap. you’re his favorite. his favorite to play around with. his favorite human.

“all mine. only mine.”

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ CHALKBOARD AND NAILS

tw. noncon, yandere, dumbification, objectification, daddy kink, some degradation, some praise, threats, brief mention of murder and blood, hair pulling, forced oral wordcount. 4.5k

a/n. ♡ commissioned by the amazing @totalleelee ♡♡♡ here you are my loVE!!! happy late birthday to your friend as well, and I really hope you guys enjoy it! I always like getting to write new characters and Nanami was definitely a fun one. I had to make the fic longer bc I wanted moreEeeeee but yea i just really really hope you enjoy it, and thank you again a miLLIOn for commIng me iM so sO HONOUREDDD

nanami kento x fem!reader

You should think about what you’re doing. Lying upside down off the couch with your eyes big and long, distracting lashes and your hair hanging; casting playful shadows on the floor when you move. His couch. He’d like to believe you’re doing it on purpose -hell, most people would probably be inclined to- when you’ve got that coy, little smile on your face and your shirt rides up to reveal a sliver of skin above your pants.

He would assume if you had ever dared to come onto him in any way. But you haven’t, and so he can’t, not when you remain the perfectly sweet, kind, respectful graduate they hired only a few years ago— and it makes him too aware of you.

Nanami’s not the prim and proper bootlicker Gojo jokes he looks like; so among the other sorcerers, it isn’t even too illogical that you would cling to him a little. A kouhai dumped on his doorstep when the higher-ups decided to employ them fresh out of school. If it were anyone else, he would’ve complained until the choice was overruled. But you’re not anyone else. He can’t even lie about the fact that he’s grown quite the attachment to you.

Your bubbly, engaged energy and blueberry scented shampoo and cheap coffee in styrofoam cups that you always, always forget to throw away at the end of the day. Your chattering that rings through his brain before he goes to sleep and the way you talk and talk and talk when he won’t. You’re the exact opposite of an enigma, because that would require that you left him with some mysteries, and you don’t have the ability to keep your mouth shut. He hates how easy you wind him around your little finger, and he hates that he hates it.

Nanami’s not a dependant guy- and it seems to be your goal to prove him so fucking wrong.

“Why wouldn’t that be possible? I mean, it’d be hard if suddenly a curse shows up and you’re called up in the middle of the night and have to rush to work, and our rates of serious injury are pretty high. But I think I could make it work! Y’know, communication is key and all that.” Your pretty lips shine as you ramble on. You prop your head onto one arm, and turn over so your leg is basically straddling his furniture. “Have you ever dated a non-sorcerer while you’ve been a grade one, Nanamin?”

He lets out a slow exhale, and shifts his gaze back from the lines of your throat to his book so you don’t catch him looking. “No.”

“Not once? In like twelve years?” You raise a brow like you’ve suddenly discovered he’s some ancient fossil dug up from the canal.

“I prefer not to leave my partners for weeks on end with no explanation because the sorcerer world forbids it— so no. And I didn’t graduate twelve years ago, brat.” With the spine of the book he taps your nose, before getting up from the chair to join you on the couch. The few drinks have been abandoned as you finally let the blood back out of your head and wobble like a deer, blinking too slowly. Even now, you’re pretty. Prettier than he wants you to be, taking in the soft slope of your nose and the pillowy lips and your stupid flush on your face. Brat is right.

“I think I’ll do it,” you declare after a few seconds, and rest your head back into the couch with a pout. “I get lonely. And most sorcerers have giant egos.” He’s not sure if it takes him aback -can’t place the emotion that washes over him a few inches at a time- but he finds himself watching the side of your face a little too tightly. The cogs turn in his head and send some uncomfortable cold to gather in the pit of his stomach. Your lashes flutter and some wetness lines your waterline, and he can tell that you mean it. It isn’t the alcohol, he knows you better than enough.

When you look up at him, your faces are only a few inches apart— soft breaths filling the narrow space between. Has he ever told you he loves you? He’s not a man of too many words, that’s always been more your style than his— so probably not. But he does. So much it carves a gaping hole in his chest upon impact. He doesn’t have to say anything to see the way your eyes flutter shyly with the near perfect closeness. As your silence hangs as the room disappears, his hand twitching on his thigh. Aren’t you partly his like he’s yours? That’s how it should work. It’s the only logical course of action, and so he can’t help but lean in.

You’re just too shy to say anything- right? You wouldn’t hang out with him so much if you didn’t, wouldn’t trust and touch him, or confide in him so much if you didn’t. His heart burns in his chest the closer you seem to get. But before he can finish up the gap, you giggle and back away. “Wow! Hey, we almost kissed.” Your voice is a higher pitch than normal, but still rambly. Fuck. “I didn’t expect you to be so close when I looked up,” your nose and cheeks are burning hot, “you scared me, Nanamin~”

You stand from the couch instead, and lean towards him with that little smile that drives him crazy at night. “Senpai, it’s clearly time for me to go home. I’m getting sloppy.” You are. And as much as he wants to use that as an excuse to grab you by your waist and pull you into his lap, it wouldn’t do any good. Not when you’re too busy running your mouth to understand the consequences. He loves you, but you’re one infuriating little runt. You run your hand through his hair like it’s an intrusive thought, spilling loose locks onto his forehead, and then you smack your lips. “Will you see me to the door at least?”

For not the first time, he blames your loose lips for making it so hard for him.

+

You’re entirely different outside the four walls of his apartment.

It’s a coincidence that he finds himself across the street as he spots you walking under the streetlights with a little jump in your step. You look a different sort of formidable— clinging to the arm of some plain fucking loser that is so very clearly drooling all over you. It’s almost pathetic how easily swayed the guy is, as you bat your lashes and smile at him. And somewhere in the back of his mind, it rings a little familiar, but common sense and logic get pushed down a little under the feeling of anger that he feels bubbling up in him.

Not at you— though he told you he didn’t think it a good idea, you’ve always been a bit dense. In need of protection. It isn’t an option, and Nanami’s responsible for you. He looks out for you. This fucking loser though, is oblivious about anything but the skin your dress is showing off. In the brief few moments he gets to spot you walking off towards your street, that much becomes clear. You love making it hard for him. You’re basically magnetic, dragging him along from whatever chore he was doing to follow behind patiently, getting more and more agitated.

See, Nanami has thought quite often about what he is, and isn’t. You forced him to think it over whenever he found his mind wandering back to you each time it had the chance, squeezing around his cock and whining out your dramatics into his mouth. In his imagination, he’s easy to wrap up into a neat bow. With a begrudgingly growing interest each time you landed on his couch, or trailed behind him like a puppy at work. It’s because of all that introspection that he decided he isn’t a good do-er. He does good, and he is perfectly adequate at doing it too. But he doesn’t do it for the praise of it.

Nanami isn’t a hero. He isn’t a vigilante.

He’s a simple guy with simple wants: you. So there’s only one reason that crystalizes in his mind as he finds himself walking a good distance behind this fucking loser that you’re blinking stars up at. It isn’t a noble one. Just that every fiber in him aches to grab the guy by the back of his neck and kick his head like a soccer ball. You wouldn’t like that much, but he still wants to do it.

You’re beaming and chattering along like you do at such a pace that you don’t even notice that he’s started to follow behind. Hell, you barely even acknowledge a passerby to move out of the way. You’re totally zoned in to your doe-eyed, little fantasies— even as the distance gets closer and closer, and he’s walking down the now familiar streets towards your apartment. And as much as he wants to blame you, he can't. Not really. It’s not like he didn’t know what a sweet little cheerleader you were when you were prancing around his office with the shortest skirts known to man and a coquettish blink of your long lashes. But it’s different when it’s some two-bit, middle aged non-sorcerer with a five o’clock shadow.

It’s different when it isn’t him. Even you must know that. You must feel it.

The sky’s darkening as your conversation goes from enthusiastic to clearly flirty, letting your giggle ring out down the lane— as he makes up the last bit of distance. The guy’s probably musty breath reaching you as he swings his arm over your shoulder, as he pulls you close. As he fills your head with all kinds of promises that he definitely won’t actually meet as soon as he gets your pretty hands around his cock. He knows it, and he knows that even your innocent, sweet personality would take a hit if that happened. You wouldn’t be able to perform well at work, and maybe even your relationship with Nanami would suffer if you got your heart broken.

There’s a very clear path before him that ends right where you’re walking up the steps towards your door, and those pretty lips form words he can’t focus on. He walks up to the door, and only now do you glance behind you and your pretty eyes go curiously wide at him. “Nanami?” You’re so fucking cute. But that stupid fucking arm around your shoulders is in his way. It blocks you from view, and ruins the sight. It’s a bother. There’s only the faintest hints of  jealousy and rage left in his veins - when he gives you a quick nod, then turns towards the guy who’s now got an awfully dumb expression on his face. It reminds him a little of a curse, blank and narrowed and disturbed. He feels eerily calm, really. It’s a simple problem with a simple solution, isn’t it.

“What are you doing here-” you start to say, before you stumble back.

Blood splatters all over, and with an awfully easy motion that stupid head rolls and drops to the floor. It’s quick, and there’s a few seconds where he waits for the resistance. The uncomfortable feeling of guilt. But it doesn’t come—

Until your shaky hand clutches almost painfully onto his shirt, pinching him. “H- Nanamin. What the hell do you think you’re doing? What did you-” You gasp, breaking off into a choked cry when your eyes take in the sight before you, before squeezing your eyes shut entirely and starting to shake harder. “What’s- why?! What did you do? Why did you do that?! I can’t- I can’t even- what- why?!”

You shove him aside, and his foot lands in the mess as you fumble sticking the key into the lock— too shaky to control your own extremities well. But your mouth still hasn’t stopped running. “Stay away! Go away! You’re- I- hick- I don’t wanna look!” You finally manage to get the key turned by the time the tears are making your cheeks entirely shiny, snot running and lip wobbly like a five year old— and sink down into a crouch to start sobbing it out into your arm. “You just killed a-an-” You can’t even make it halfway through without breaking out into another squeak. “F-for no reason. I invited him here- seriously, what’s wrong with you?”

Your face doesn’t come up again for breath until he grabs you by the arm to help you up, and you shove at him again, almost yelling this time. “No, no, no no no! Leave me alone!” This little scene you’re making is gonna attract attention, you know. “Leave me alone, I want to go in!” Before the situation can get out of hand, he pushes your door open enough to toss you inside, and the body after you. There’s a muffled little whimper from you when it lands with a thump on your floor. But as soon as he closes the door, the surge of adrenaline calms.

He just has to explain it to you, give him a minute.

“I don’t wanna- I don’t-”

For some reason, the entire situation winded him, and his beating heart bangs loudly in his chest. He drops his weapon aside and kicks off his shoes, and goes to you— where you’re cocooned in your own arms, knees to your chest. “Hey, it’s-”

“Leave me alone!” you squeak, knocking his hands away from you, only briefly looking up. “Go. Hck- go away!” You’re crying so much that your eyes are red and your cheeks puffy. But he still grabs you by your arms and hauls you up into his chest, ignoring the way you make yourself dead weight. Brat. He wants to say it, but he’s pretty sure you wouldn’t be too happy to hear it at this very moment. It’s not like he blames you. He’s always tried to shield you from the more gruesome parts of the occupation as much as possible. Of course you’d be upset. “Nanamin~” you whine.

“Shhh, just calm down. It’s all good now.” His heart still beats so loud. Maybe he was angrier than he first imagined. He carries you -much to your dismay, if your sniveling cries are anything to go off- out of the hall and into your bedroom. Where it smells of perfume and girly body lotion, and so overwhelmingly like you it takes him aback a little. You’re still crying, and still talking- but he does his best to drown it out in favor of explaining. See, he’s always been such a sucker for you. Swallowing down the slight rasp in his voice, he allows you to drop back into your bed, and looks down at you. You’re still pretty even with your eyes clenched closed, and crying like a baby. “There, ‘s okay.”

He runs his thumb along your eyes, then settles down next to you on the plush mattress. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Listen-”

“How can I -hck- listen?!” You’re quick to turn your face away from him, and wrap your arms around yourself a bit tighter— probably unaware of the distracting way you push up your tits that way in that little implication of a dress. Really, Nanami swallows, you can obviously do much better than that loser that’s probably staining your carpet at the entrance. Your lip wobbles again, before you suck it into your mouth. “I don’t know what- or how- but that isn’t okay, Nanamin. I just-”

So again, he tries to get your attention, this time by grabbing your arm. “Just listen. I did it for you- if this was anyone else I wouldn’t have been so pressed.” It’s true. No one is a priority like you are. “I had to.”

“What are you talking about? How- is killing someone- oh god, there’s a dead guy in my house, Nanamin! I don’t k- what am I gonna do? Why would you-”

“I’m trying to tell you something.” His voice is lower and sharper this time, and your eyes finally shoot open to look at him. But it isn't that adoring little look you normally have, and somehow that pisses him off too. You really need to have everything spelled out for you, huh. He loves you though, really, he genuinely, genuinely does. As more than just an equal— if he could, he’d give you everything. He just doesn’t know how to say it, staring back at the wobbly tears on your face. “I love you,” is what ends up coming out, and then a breath.

And he’d say more if you weren’t such a talker.

Your face goes a little distant for a few seconds, before you shake your head. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I will tell you, if you just-”

“I can’t accept that, senpai! You can’t just go around and kill-”

“I was protecting you!”

“From what?!” Before you even give him a chance, a real one, you start righting yourself on the bed and run a hand under your nose. And you stare at him with such disbelief and broken trust that it makes him feel a little dizzy. He doesn’t know exactly how he imagined himself spilling his guts, but it wasn’t like this. “You need to leave. And I need to contact someone from the higher ups to- take care of- I don’t even know,” you sob, “I don’t know how any of this goes. That’s so messed up, Kento.” That’s the first time you’ve ever addressed him by his first name. Scolding him for a choice he made purely for you. He did this for you. “You need to-”

He can’t let the first time end this way.

“Stop talking.”

“Stop talking?” You echo back to him, and glare, also getting up off the bed and farther away from him— and he can’t help but follow. “What did you think was gonna happen? That I wasn’t going to say anything?” As he gets up with you, you walk back a step, and your eyes flick back and forth between him and the door a few times. But he chases, and you jump in surprise when your back meets the wall, effectively trapping you between the wall and him. “I- Nanami-”

“Kento.”

You barely blink as you take a sharp intake of air, and then hold your hands up to his chest to keep some space between you two. “Look- just- we can talk about this, but I can’t just ignore that there’s a dead body in my house, Kento.” He’s really sick of you talking. You’re lucky he loves your voice so much, because if it was anyone else, he wouldn’t stand for it. Whatever you see in his expression must have you worried, because that slight defiance that remains gets awfully feeble when he reaches for you this time. “You’re scaring me. Please, just- hck- just back up. Let me process this, and then we can talk.”

“No, all your talking just gets in the way.” Your eyes go wide and a wave of heat washes over your features, making you look even more attractive. If he can’t tell you, he’ll just show you. You’ve got it all fucking wrong. What he feels for you is true love. Before you can go on another mad ramble, he grabs you and drags you back to bed, as gently as he can while having his hand screwed tight around your wrist. He wouldn’t ever actually hurt you. As you land on the bed, he holds you down— watching as you open your mouth to talk. But you can’t, because he’s already shoved two fingers between your lips and feels the way your hot, wet tongue squirms as he pushes them down your throat. “There, that’s better.”

Still you’re trying to talk, it’s almost funny. You whine around his fingers and gag when you can’t, breathing his name into an uncomfortable moan that just turns him on. You try to pull your head away, but you can’t. “You’re a lot sweeter when you’re not running your mouth sometimes, baby.” He can’t help it, it just comes out. He likes you so much, and you just look so cute gagging on his fingers and grabbing his sleeve like you’re not sure whether or not to pull or push. Tears start welling up along your waterline when he runs his fingertips over your soft, pink tongue. And his cock twitches in his pants.

That’s the good part, see. Even with all this fighting, you two still get along so well. You make him a better man when he’s around you. At least, in theory. He’s not crazy, he knows that holding you down and making you choke on his fingers isn’t really the best course of action -but you left him no choice- and he’s better off finishing what he started. “If you shut up,” he draws his fingers out of your mouth to start unzipping his pants, “I’ll let you breathe. If you don’t, I’ll make sure you won’t want to talk again.” It’s all up to you, pretty girl. Simple cause and effect. You take one sharp breath as you try to get out from under his weight, but there’s really nowhere you can go.

So you do what you do best, and whine. “Nanami~” It’s a baby-ish little whimper that makes him name sound so fucking good. But still. He grabs your face to squish your cheeks, and stares down at you with such intensity that you keep your cries in.

“It’s Kento.” His voice is a low, soft rumble. He wonder if it gives away the way his body feels right now, standing above you while his cock strains against his pants. They’re getting too tight to be comfortable. “Or daddy- you like that better? Say it.” You shake your head into his grip -but your ears start glowing another color brighter, almost like he’s caught you in a lie. Of course you do. You and him are made to be together. You let out another little squeak before he lets go of you to start undoing his pants. 

That apparently seems to be too much, because suddenly you’re trying to get up as you speak. “No, no, I’m not-” You’re trapped when he forces you back down and now yanks your head back by your hair, making you cry again. “Ow, please senpai— I like you, I really do- but I can’t- I- hang on.” The heat crawls up his neck to his ears watching your eyes go big as the belt falls and his pants go down his thighs. You really do look good on your fucking knees.

“I told you to stop yapping, didn’t I?” He asks in return, and finishes sliding his boxers down, kicking them aside. Then he pulls your face towards his cock and watches as you whine. “Open up for daddy. There’s only one thing your mouth’s good for.” You’re so easy to hold in place, and it sends unimaginable gratification through his body when your little tongue comes out for him. You’re really such a brat, making everything so fucking hard for him. 

You open your mouth enough for him to start pushing inside at just the slightest yank of your hair, making you whine and whimper as you shuffle around between his legs. Your hands come to rest on his thighs, but that doesn’t hold him from sliding the hot head of his cock as far as he can into your mouth right away. You look amazing drooling all over his cock, choking when he starts to move with the most patient moves he can manage. It’s not easy to do much of anything except rock himself on your soft tongue and feel your whining go down his shaft and balls. “There, now you’re making yourself useful. That’s what you do best, hm, fucking brat?”

“Agh, fuck- that’s- such a soft little mouth.” You make him feel heavenly, and by the way you’re shifting down there on the floor -trying and failing to get the friction you want- you’re also feeling it. He can tell by the way you blink up at him so slow, swallowing around him and letting that pretty voice out in the cutest, little moans. Just for him. Only ever for him. “You’re so lucky you’re this fucking cute,” he ends up rasping out, before letting you finally pull back to breathe when you start jittering. “Say something smart again, brat.”

“Agh, daddy,” you sob, drool spilling down your chin, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” He can tell you are. Your big eyes glossy and cheeks hot, you try to get up from the floor, and he yanks you up to turn you over instead. Your little dress rides up too easily, giving the rest of the way when he shoves it up your back. It’s almost embarrassing to see how wet you are, lacy panties soaked all the way through and peeled too easily aside to reveal that needy pussy. And you don’t even deny it, just shiver when he runs his finger up and down your slicked up cunt. “Please.”

He’s such a sucker for you, fuck. It’s almost like you know it. “My little cock slut, look at that. You’re dripping down your thighs, brat.” He spits on your center once before lining up and sliding in, and watching as your little pussy stretches around his cock with some effort— as you let out a lewd, almost desperate whine. “Fuck.” And Nanami hoists himself over you to start fucking into you, hips meeting your ass as he bottoms out, as you open your legs further to let him in. Your back half hangs pathetically over the end of the bed as he fucks into your tight, hot -so fucking hot and wet and beaming- pussy and his balls clap against you. You feel so good it’s hard to hear anything over his own heartbeat hammering wildly against his ribs.

“Daddy feel good inside?”

“Mhm, agh-yea.”

You too, baby. Nothing in the world feels as good as letting your pussy swallow and suck him in deeper, like you’re trying to hold him in that impossibly hot, blissful clutch forever. He can’t even hear much of your whining and moaning and pitiful struggle, but you probably haven’t stopped. You don’t even have the energy to close your mouth, trying to push back to meet his thrusts more even as he bumps against the end of your pussy— and his one hand is squeezed around your neck. But you look pretty this way. You look useful.

“Tell me how much you like me.”“So~ much, so much, fuck. I’m gonna cum, Kento. Daddy.” Your mouth’s still running when he snakes his hand underneath you to start rubbing at your puffy clit, and feels the way his own body starts to tighten when your walls clench wildly around him. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. I want you to cum too, want to feel it- I wanna have you deep inside me forever, ah, ah. Oh, you feel so good, fuck.” It’s almost ironic when he thinks about it. How much he likes you running your mouth like this, begging for more. It’s poetic.

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2023. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[forbidden-sunlight]

yandere!holy knight with saintess!reader scenario [epilogue]

Hey guys and welcome back to the finale of the scenario! It's been a pleasure to work with @deathmetalunicorn1 again, and we really hope you've enjoyed reading this as we have writing it. I am still working on a couple of potential concepts, one that you might seen a sneak peek at on here, but stay tuned! If you would like to be added to the taglist, I'll leave the link to that here, So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's enjoy the show :)

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

On the southeastern coast of the Helux Empire, Brentstall Harbor is a bustling and beautiful city built on its canals. Every day there are goods being imported and exported to all corners of the world, vendors showing off their wares on the cobblestone streets before they are shipped off elsewhere. Ferrymen transport visitors and locals alike in their boats to wherever they wish to for a fee. It was no small wonder why it is considered a popular place by the nobility to settle down here when the social season was off, vacationing in summer homes or doing business to keep themselves occupied. At least it was a much livelier place than where Cosette was

Yandere!Holy Knight still believed Cosette Lovelace’s punishment was still light, in his opinion. 

Confinement in the palace dungeons with no contact to the outside world and ostracized from high society? He would have preferred that she would be burned at the stake for her crimes against the Holy Temple of Aesir, but such an execution was no longer acceptable. Furthermore, it was by the Emperor’s will. Yandere! Holy Knight did not want to jeopardize the amiable relationship between the Empire and the Holy Church just because he wished the heathen to disappear from existence entirely. You had worked too hard, too long, to let it be gone in a single night. He could only hope that being away from the temple would allow you to relax your mind and soul and find solace in Aesir’s arms through prayer. But this trip was not a sabbatical where you would visit and bless the people; this was, in fact, your honeymoon. Yes, that is right. You were now a married woman under His Eyes. Married to him, a paladin. 

No one knew how or why except on the day of the heathen’s condemnation, after she had been escorted out of the temple by the palace guards, a bright light filtered through the stained glass windows behind the High Priest, thinning and branching into two strings that tied his ring finger and yours, creating a pair of rings that matched your robes before it disappeared entirely.  The High Priest immediately recognized this phenomenon  as a sign of Aesir’s Blessing. Their Lord has seen your future with His Eyes, and wishes to unite the two of you in marriage. 

With the Emperor and the members of the congregation as witnesses to this ceremony, sworn to secrecy by the High Priest, Yandere!Holy Knight had become your husband, and you had become his wife. While he was quite overwhelmed with the entirety of this event, his stomach twisting and coiling from anxiety and happiness, Yandere!Holy Knight saw that you had taken everything calmly, telling the High Priest that you were to embark immediately for a trip away from the Temple. You did not know when you would return, but…you wanted your husband to take some time and relax after going through such a traumatic ordeal, and you wished to be left alone for a while. 

Now, here the two of you were, having just arrived at an inn, dressed as plainly as possible. Your mother-of-pearl robes and blindfold would immediately give away your identity to the public, and you had implicitly expressed that you had no desire to visit a temple yet. When it is time to return to your duties as the Reverend Sister, Aesir will give you a sign. You are His Eyes, after all. 

However, there was the matter of…consummating the marriage to make it official. The thought made Yandere Holy Knight’s heart hammer against his ribcage as he stuttered out his concern to you, feeling his face burn with embarrassment. He felt like a fool for asking this, but he needed to know your thoughts on it! Marriage is sacred in this country, and by not consummating it, there was a chance that you could be taken away from someone else whom Aesir might deem as a more suitable partner for you! 

“You are correct in that consummating a marriage is what legitimizes the union between two parties, though such a rule was originally contrived by the nobility, not by the Holy Temple. A marriage in the eyes of Aesir is to cherish one another reverently, discreetly, and not as a means to solidify power nor to satisfy all carnal desires.” You said, jeweled eyes peering at him over your shoulder. You were putting away your belongings when he asked you this question. “And I, for one, will not force you to do anything you do not want. Especially…after what you had been through.” 

Yandere!Holy Knight was stunned. You would not push him to solidify your marriage to him? He could remain pure, thereby still abiding by his Vow of Chasity as a paladin. Although he was deeply humbled by your concern for his well-being, it still felt wrong. Like he was denying any happiness that a husband would and should provide for his wife because of his beliefs. 

Instead of finding the right words to convey his emotions towards you, Yandere!Holy Knight coiled his arms around you from behind in a tight, warm embrace. You were surprised, if only for a moment before a silvery laugh left your mouth, though it was so faint that he almost missed it. 

When you placed your hands on top of his own, Yandere! Holy Knight felt happiness and anxiety bubble beneath his skin followed by more questions. How was it that Aesir believed he was the best marriage partner for you? What would happen if another man took interest and tried to take you away from him? 

No. He could not allow that to happen. He would never allow it. You were his wife, his beloved, the person who had been created to be his companion in life and death. 

Wherever you went, he would follow gladly.

Taglist: @sweetbatherodonkey @lxdymoon0357 @certifiedsimpinggalore @queenmimis @mochinon-yah @tonightwrites @thatstrangesheep @faux-ecrivain @navierkalani @yandere-dark-cupid @swallowtail-lotus @abelheilonwife @aiimee9 @ixchelhernandez4 @justcressida

[antiquitiesandlabyrinths]

Hatshepsut’s Red Temple, currently presiding in Luxor, in the Karnak Temple Complex. Although never finished and deconstructed after the end of Hatshepsut’s reign, it has been rebuilt now; at least what remains of it. It’s rather small and has no roof now, but the basalt basin shows clearly its’ purifying uses, as in the back exit, small canals were built into the steps to let water run off. The red stone of the temple shrine glitters in the sun, outlined by rich black doorways.

[finelinevogue]

a montage of love

summary - a fan has put together a small video of some of your best moments together

word count - ~1.5k

pairing - boyfriend!harry x youtuber!reader

The video screen filled with pictures of you and Harry along with the title ‘A quiet love like Harry and Y/Ns’.

The ten minute video was a fan-made compilation of moments between you and Harry that were quiet love moments. Moments where you didn’t say the words ‘I love you’ out loud, but the actions were louder than words anyways.

The fan put a disclaimer on the screen and claimed that they didn’t own any of the content.

You was a YouTuber so a lot of the content came from her channel, since Harry was always so proud and happy to be on your channel.

The video then started.

>>>>Clip 1:

The background was noise, since you were in a restaurant.

You and Harry were sat on the same side of the green velvet booth, shoulder to shoulder as if it were a pain to be sat apart.

The camera was placed on the table in front of you. You didn’t want to film the whole evening, since it was along time you and Harry couldn’t afford to waste, but you wanted to record a little just for memories.

Harry’s hand comes into view to hold yours that’s resting on the table. When you accept his hand, he brings them both up to his lips to give your skin a soft kiss.

“I love you.” He said quietly, but the camera picks it up.

“I love you too.” You blushed and rested your head against his shoulder affectionately.

“You want the last bite of my chocolate cake?” He asked you.

You nodded against his shoulder and he brought his other hand, fork loaded with a chocolate bite delight up to your mouth for you.

You ate it swiftly, not allowing any crumbs.

That bite was Harry’s way of saying I love you, again, but just in a different way.

>>>>Clip 2:

Standing in front of the floor length mirror in your house, you filmed for a winters walk vlog.

Lulu, your dog, padded around by your feet, awaiting her walk.

You were showing your outfit.

“My leggings are from H&M; cheap and cheerful my lovelies! The hoodie is from Harry’s wardrobe, but I believe it’s not cheap and cheerful. Don’t ask me why it isn’t, when it’s literally just a blue hoodie…”

You often joked about Harry’s incessant need to buy expensive clothes when he could be better spending it elsewhere… like on you!

“The coat is from Zara, I think, but I bought it from Vinted. Grabbed a great price for it and we’re preventing fast fashion in this household. And finally my ugly walking boots are from Go Outdoors. Sexy, I know!” You joked.

Harry walked in behind you then, dressed in a similar attire only with black running shorts over his leggings.

“Ready?” You asked him.

“Not until you bloody zip your coat up.” Harry huffed, picking up the keys from the key bowl by the front door.

“I don’t need to.”

“Yeah, nice try you.” He laughed and then his was before you, taking matters into his own hands and zipping up your coat for you.

Technically one of your hands was filming and the other was controlling Lulu, so there wasn’t much you could do anyways.

“So annoying.”

“Huff and pout all you like, but I’m saving you from a life of misery and cold.” He looked proud of himself after he zipped you up.

“Happy now?” You sarcastically asked.

“Not without a kiss I’m not.”

You pretended like that was a chore, but really you were excited to give him a kiss. The video stopped then, because you weren’t one to expose your PDA to the public.

>>>>Clip 3:

In the same video, you filmed your walk with Harry and Lulu.

You went on a walk alongside a canal, stopping off around at a little book swap along the way. Harry picked up a book and so did you, Harry offering to carry them both as you were walking Lulu.

You were walking canal side when Harry tugged on your hand and pulled you across him.

“What are you doing?” You laughed, Lulu happily walking ahead of you both.

“Making sure you’re less likely to fall in the canal, especially if Lulu tugs you.”

Harry was now walking canal side, holding your hand with his.

You made sure the camera caught the moment where you kissed his cheek in silent thanks, forever indebted to his gentlemanly capabilities.

>>>>Clip 4:

The room is bright as the sunset burns through the room.

You are sat on the floor, in front of the sofa in the living room, filming a segment of a video where you answer fan questions.

“What did Harry get you for Christmas?” You read out the question that you were asked via Instagram.

“He decided to get me a weighted blanket, because every time he goes away I find it quite difficult to fall asleep. The idea of the weighted blanket is to mimic him lying across me, which makes me feel more safe and calms me into sleeping better.”

You blushed as you answered, picking up your cup of tea to take a sip of it to hide your embarrassment.

You paused to think about you opening that gift and how happy you had been in that moment. Harry knew not to buy you anything that was expensive or materialistic. He bought you something practical and perfect, plus the he bought it in your favourite colour; yellow.

It was such a thoughtful gift and even more thoughtful coming from a man who could’ve easily bought you a meaningless yacht if he wanted.

The front door then unlocked and you turned to see who it was.

“Hey, m’love.” Harry said as he walked through, Pleasing tote bag on his shoulder and wrapped for winter.

“Hello, you. How was your day?” You asked him, watching him take off his coat and shoes.

“Busy, but good. Yeah, we wrote an entire verse which I’m proper happy with.”

“I’m just filming a bit for my next vlog, but I’ll make is dinner in a bit.” You promised, knowing he would be hungry after a full day in the studio.

Harry walked over to you, with a bunch of colourful tulips in his hand. He crouched down beside you, waving into the recording camera before handing over the flowers to you.

“For me?” You pouted at how sweet the gesture was, “Why?”

“Does there have to be a reason?”

“Harry…” You whined, feeling like you could cry. “Thank you.”

“It’s okay. You’re worth more than that, which is why takeaway is on me tonight.” He kissed your forehead - aware that the camera was still rolling.

“It’s always on you, honey.” You joked.

“That’s right. Treat you so well, don’t I?”

You couldn’t argue with him there.

“Did you eat today?” You asked him, concerned for his wellbeing as much as he is for yours.

“I did. Mitch brought us a couple boxes of sushi.”

“As long as you’ve had something, that’s all I care about.”

“Oh what would I do without you, my love?” Harry asked you, kissing your cheek.

“Perish.”

“That’s one word for it.”

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week

🦾 - High-Five for Bionic Hand

1. Houston-area school district announces free breakfast and lunch for students

Pasadena ISD students will be getting free breakfast and lunch for the 2023-24 school year, per an announcement on the district's social media pages.

The 2023-24 free lunch program is thanks to a Community Eligibility Provision grant the district applied for last year. The CEP, which is distributed by the Department of Agriculture, is specially geared toward providing free meals for low-income students.

2. Dolphin and her baby rescued after being trapped in pond for 2 years

A pair of dolphins that spent nearly two years stuck in a Louisiana pond system are back at sea thanks to the help of several agencies and volunteers.

According to the Audubon Nature Institute, wildlife observers believe the mother dolphin and her baby were pushed into the pond system near Grand Isle, Louisiana, during Hurricane Ida in late August 2021.

3. Studies show that putting solar panels over waterways could boost clean energy and conserve water. The first U.S. pilot project is getting underway in California.

Some 8,000 miles of federally owned canals snake across the United States, channeling water to replenish crops, fuel hydropower plants and supply drinking water to rural communities. In the future, these narrow waterways could serve an additional role: as hubs of solar energy generation.

4. Gene therapy eyedrops restored a boy's sight. Similar treatments could help millions

Antonio was born with dystrophic epidermolysis bullosa, a rare genetic condition that causes blisters all over his body and in his eyes. But his skin improved when he joined a clinical trial to test the world’s first topical gene therapy.

The same therapy was applied to his eyes. Antonio, who’s been legally blind for much of his 14 years, can see again.

5. Scientists develop game-changing vaccine against Lyme disease ticks!

A major step in battling Lyme disease and other dangerous tick-borne viruses may have been taken as researchers announced they have developed a vaccine against the ticks themselves.

Rather than combatting the effects of the bacteria or microbe that causes Lyme disease, the vaccine targets the microbiota of the tick, according to a paper published in the journal Microbiota on Monday.

6. HIV Transmission Virtually Eliminated in Inner Sydney, Australia

Sydney may be the first city in the world to end AIDS as a public health threat by 2030. Inner Sydney has reduced new HIV acquisitions by 88%, meaning it may be the first locality in the world to reach the UN target to end AIDS as a public health threat by 2030

7. New bionic hand allows amputees to control each finger with unprecedented accuracy

In a world first, surgeons and engineers have developed a new bionic hand that allows users with arm amputations to effortlessly control each finger as though it was their own body.

Successful testing of the bionic hand has already been conducted on a patient who lost his arm above the elbow.

----

That's it for this week :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation:

Support this newsletter ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog.

[babyboydaniel]

Red Wine (M)

Daniel Ricciardo x Fem!Reader

Summary: You cannot stand Daniel, so how did you both end up in the bathroom together?

Smut, Fluff (?) | Warnings: 18+, PinV, Fingering, Semi-Public | Word Count: 4.3K

If there was one thing that you were sure of, you could not stand Daniel Ricciardo. You hated that people fawned over him, laughing at all his jokes, his stupid teeth-bearing grin which was constantly plastered to his face, or that he genuinely seemed to care about everyone he spoke to. He had this unwavering dedication to look like a nice guy. But, you saw right through him. He was a cocky, arrogant asshole that needed a reality check. So, any time you were forced to spend your free time with him, you were less than thrilled. Getting a root canal without novocaine sounded more enjoyable.

So, when your close friend invited you to a small housewarming party, you knew that Daniel was destined to be there. Everything told you to reject the invite and spend the night with a bottle of wine and binge-watching Sex and the City. However, you were a good friend and confirmed your attendance.

After a couple of weeks, you were standing outside the front door of your friend’s new home, your arms filled with gifts and food to share. As you struggled to balance everything without the risk of it toppling over, someone called out from behind you, “Do you need some help with that?”

You rolled your eyes as you looked back at him. Daniel. He was walking up the pathway with that perma smile on his face. He was dressed in an oversized sweater and slim-cut black jeans. His hair was longer than when you had seen him last and somehow curlier. You would even go as far as to say he looked good, but he ruined any illusions when he opened his mouth. Nobody is that happy all the time.

“I got it,” you stated, still working to get a hand free to ring the doorbell so someone could come open the door.

Daniel stood patiently behind you, his arms crossed while he watched you juggle everything. A tiny amused smirk pulled at his lips.

You struggled for a couple of minutes before you felt someone come up behind you. Their chest pressed against your back, and their tan tattoo-covered arm reached past you to push open the front door.

“I would have died out here at the rate that was going,” Daniel laughed in your ear. Close enough that the warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine. You noticeably flinched from him as you walked through the threshold, wanting as much distance from him as possible. 

“I had it,” you muttered as he walked past you, traveling further into the house.

Daniel turned back and winked at you, “Sure, babe.”

The sound of his laughter carried down the hallway. Gosh, he was insufferable.

While you removed your shoes, your friend rounded the corner into the foyer to help collect the things from your arms. You thanked her for the help as you followed the sounds towards the kitchen. Gathered around the island were a small group of your closest friends, glasses of wine in hand, and plates full of a perfectly crafted charcuterie board.

“Do you want a glass of wine?” your friend asked, putting down the dish you brought.

“Please,” you said, “What kind do you have?”

Your friend showed you the two open bottles, and to no surprise, they were both specialty DR3 wines. You rolled your eyes.

“Daniel brought these to share,” your friend explained.

Of course, he did. Always one to outdo everyone else. Most would see the gesture as sweet, not you; it was simply a way to feed his ego. Showing off how successful he was, subtly rubbing it in people’s faces.

“Whichever is fine with me,” you lamented.

She quickly poured you a glass before pushing you to make yourself a plate and join the conversation. If luck would have it, you wound up standing next to Daniel. He was casually leaning against the counter, hands gesturing wildly, as he encaptured the people around in a story that you were sure was far more boring than people let on. You slowly ate the assortment of cheese and meat on your plate as you tried to drown out what Daniel was going on about until you heard your name called by the man himself.

“Yes?” you questioned.

“Where did you go? I called your name like five times,” he chuckled.

“I was just enjoying the cheese,” you stated simply.

Your response caused Daniel to throw his head back as a genuine laugh racked his body. The corner of his eyes crinkled up, and his hand lifted to cover his mouth. Your response wasn’t that funny.

“Gosh, you’re funny,” he giggled.

You shook your head, “If you say so.”

Daniel just continued to grin at you as you met his gaze. Laughter still danced in his warm golden eyes. His face was so open and welcoming, but you knew better than to trust it.

“You were asking me a question?” you enquired, trying to get the conversation over as soon as possible.

“Oh yeah. Umm…” Daniel chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “I already forgot.”

“Great,” you responded.

Before he could say anything further, your friend and their partner called for everyone’s attention and directed us to the dining room for dinner. The group shuffled through the archway to the attached room, where among the beautiful tablescape was dinner for the night. As everyone found their seat, you sat down in the chair nearest to you and felt someone pull out the chair to your right. You quickly glanced over to see that Daniel moved to occupy the seat. It was as if the world was playing a cruel trick on you. Was he painfully unaware that you did not like him?

The alcohol flowed and food was passed around the table. The room buzzed with laughter and conversation. You spent most of the meal talking to your friend on the left, doing a damn good job at ignoring the man opposite of you. That was until you felt a tender touch placed on your forearm. You looked down to find long, slender fingers delicately wrapped around your wrist, and the bold outline of a rose contrasted the sun-kissed skin. Your gaze trailed up their arm until your eyes landed on Daniel’s. His expression looked as if he was awaiting a response.

“Yes?” you questioned, clearly annoyed.

Your annoyance did nothing to deter Daniel. He smiled back at you, his hand still on your skin, “Did you want more wine?”

That is what he interrupted an obviously important conversation for. You rolled your eyes.

“Uh, no,” you grumbled, “but you can stop touching me now.”

Daniel looked down at where you were still connected and quickly pulled his hand from you. He flashed you a quick smile as an apology. You rolled your eyes involuntarily as you turned back to your previous discussion.

“If you keep rolling your eyes, they are going to get stuck like that,” Daniel whispered as he leaned over to you. His firm chest pressed to your arm. Warmth spreads throughout your body once again. 

“Well, stop giving me a reason to,” you sassed.

That caused Daniel to chuckle, his breath fanning over your cheek, which was undoubtedly flushed. It must be from the alcohol. That was the only explanation. Not from the proximity of Daniel Ricciardo.

“Babe, there are plenty of other things I can do to make your eyes roll to the back of your head,” Daniel murmured, his lips ghosting over your ear before pulling back and settling in his chair.

“Dick,” you muttered, picking up a glass of water, attempting to reject your body’s reaction to his words. You could hear Daniel laugh as he watched your movements. Gosh, you could not stand him. 

With a gulp of water and a sigh, you turned back to your friend. The conversation picked up from where you left off. But you were granted only a couple of minutes of peace before you felt a warm liquid spread over your lap. You gasped as you looked down and saw red wine seeping into the white satin material of your skirt. Before you could even react, Daniel’s hands were dabbing a napkin on the growing stain.

“Shit,” he stated, which he continued to repeat as he pawed at your lap, which did nothing to rescue the ruined skirt.

You sat there stunned, watching Daniel attempt to clean up the mess.

Daniel’s eyes met yours, his eyebrows furrowed in worry, and his ever-permanent smile was replaced with a downturn of his lips.

“I am so sorry,” he declared.

You just continued to stare at him, mouth hanging open, “What the fuck?”

Daniel flinched slightly from the chill in your voice, his hands coming to rest where they still resided in your lap.

“I am sorry,” he repeated, “I will get you a new one. Fuck, this is my bad.”

Without a word, you pushed back from the table and stomped off to the bathroom. Unbelievably irritated. It was no surprise Daniel had to go and ruin something. You closed the door behind you as you stripped the skirt from your body, placing the soiled material in the sink, hoping to get some of the wine out. There wouldn’t be a stain if you were quick enough to run it under cold water. You looked at yourself in the mirror as you let the cold water flow over the skirt. Annoyance read on your face. Tears of frustration prickled in your eyes.

“Fuck, I am so so-” Daniel exclaimed as he burst through the closed bathroom door. He immediately stopped in his tracks as his eyes landed on you standing over the sink in your underwear and the light sweater that covered your chest.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“Daniel, what the hell! Have you ever heard of knocking?” you chastised.

He quickly turned around and covered his eyes, “I just wanted to apologize again and see if there was anything I could help you with. I did not expect you to be naked.”

“I am not naked,” you snickered.

“Well, you are not exactly dressed.”

“True. And if that is the case, why are you still standing there?”

You could hear Daniel gulp, the lines of his back flexing under his sweater. He slowly turned around to face you, his hands still covered his eyes. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips. There was a tinge of warmth on his cheeks, “Umm, well, I want to help.”

You chuckled. He sounded so innocent that you were half tempted to let him. But, you were in a state of undress that you did not need him witnessing. He had embarrassed you enough for the night. You did not need him to humiliate you further. On the other hand, it was his mess, and he should be the one to fix it.

“Fine,” you sighed, “you can take over trying to get this stain out.”

Daniel peeked through his fingers, “Really?”

You nodded and backed away from the sink, which put you closer to Daniel in the confined space. Daniel dropped his hands and shuffled around you to occupy the spot you once resided in and got to work. You sat on the closed toilet while he ran more cold water into the basin. The two of you were silent while Daniel massaged the material, trying to encourage the wine to leave the skirt. You caught yourself mesmerized by the way his fingers flexed and slid against the fabric. Being both extremely gentle and firm.

“The stain is better, but I do not think we are getting it out,” Daniel stated, which brought you out of your trance.

You got up from your place on the toilet and took a couple of steps over to him. You leaned over the sink to look at the ruined skirt and deemed your attempts as a lost cause. You sighed as you rested your back against the sink. Your arm pressed against Daniel’s. He looked down at you. His eyes were apologetic as well as something else you could not place.

“Sorry. As I said, I will get you a new one,” Daniel apologized.

You shook your head, “It is fine. Shit happens.”

“No, no. I fucked up, and I will get you something to replace it.”

You nodded in response, knowing there was no chance of winning against Mr. Nice Guy.

“What am I supposed to wear now? I cannot walk around in my underwear.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind that,” Daniel joked.

You slapped him in the chest, “Ha ha, you are so funny. I am serious.”

“So I am I,” his face completely serious.

You both looked at each other, willing the other to back down. The staring contest continued until you could see the exact moment a thought came to him. A few seconds passed before he spoke his brilliant plan out loud.

“I could give you my sweater to wear,” he offered, almost sheepishly.

You were silent as you debated the pros and cons of that offer. And before you could contemplate any farther, you were tossing off the sweater you had on. It landed with a gentle thud on the floor. Daniel’s eyes widened in shock, but there was a fire that simmered beneath the surface as he looked over your now exposed skin, resting to ogle at your breasts a beat longer than what was considered polite.

You held out your hands for Daniel to give you the sweater. He fumbled to pull it over his head, messing up his curls in the process, but he did not hand it over to you.

“Arms up,” he whispered as if not to scare you.

You narrowed your eyes at him, head cocked to the side, but decided not to argue. The faster this was over the faster you could get out of the cramped room. So, much to Daniel’s pleasure, you followed his command and raised your arms. Daniel slipped the fabric over your head, his fingers trailing down your arms as he guided them through the openings, goosebumps left in their wake. Once your head and hands were through the holes, Daniel shifted the sweater over your body. His hands grazed your sides until the bottom of the top rested mid-thigh. You shivered as his fingers played with the hem, accidentally caressing the fullness of your thighs. An inaudible whine fell from your parted lips. The clothing smelled like him, something warm, expensive, and, for some reason, comforting. You shook your head in an attempt to clear your mind. You should not be having these thoughts about someone you despise.

“Thank you,” you coughed as you pressed further back into the sink, trying to create space between you.

“You’re welcome,” Daniel croaked, hands falling to his sides, “It is the least I can do.”

You hummed in agreement, waiting for him to move from your personal space. But, he did no such thing. He continued to stare at you. As if he was debating something in his mind. His right hand reached out as if he wanted to grab you but thought better of it.

“Umm, are you-”

“Can I kiss you?” Daniel interrupted.

Your mouth snapped shut, shocked by his request. Like Daniel has to know you do not like him. So why is he now asking to kiss you? And you know for a fact you cannot stand him, so why are you not slapping him in the face for merely suggesting it? But, you were thinking about humoring him and letting him kiss you. No, you could never. It would only make him even more unbearable. Though they do say hate sex is some of the best you can experience, could that be the same with just a kiss? So, before you could think too much you were nodding your head.

Daniel, pleased with your response, reached out to gently cup your jaw. His thumb ran along the skin there while his other hand rested on the small of your waist. The fabric bunched up beneath his fingers. He leaned in and looked down at you, locking eyes and giving you a chance to back out. You did not. So he closed the short distance and placed his lips against yours.

The moment his lips met yours, it was fire. Everything burned but in the best way. You panted as Daniel pulled you closer, his tongue slipping past your parted lips. His tongue brushed against yours in a delicate but firm massage reminiscent of his hands ringing out your skirt. You threw your arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. A moan left your mouth, and Daniel bit your bottom lip before diving back in. Kissing you deeper. After what felt like hours, but it was only seconds, Daniel pulled back. His thumb reached up to run along your wet, full lip. His eyes were ablaze. The once honey eyes now looked like molten glass.

Then his lips were back on yours. He kissed you with such force that you were convinced he was going to leave a bruise. His tongue fought yours for dominance, neither wanting to concede to the other. You were in no mood to give him the upper hand. You tugged at the hair laced in your fingers, silently urging Daniel to back down. Unsurprisingly, doing so did the complete opposite; Daniel groaned into your mouth as he doubled his efforts. The whimpers he coaxed from you proved how much you enjoyed it and spurred him on. He pulled your body flush against his, slotting his knee between your legs, and pressed his thigh where you needed it most. Your body automatically ground against his with want. Daniel bucked his hips as your thigh brushed along his hardening cock. Daniel removed himself from your lips. His mouth moving to place gentle kisses along the length of your neck. You whined as he nipped at the skin there.

“You better not leave any marks,” you scolded breathlessly.

Daniel snickered but did not stop his ministrations. His hand that was once on your waist had made its way down to your thigh. Fingers slipping under the sweater, lightly touching the skin there. Teasing you, running along the length of your underwear before dipping beneath the band and snapping it back against your heated skin as he continued his way up your side until he reached just below your breast. His fingers danced along the edge of your bra. His lips were at your ear when he whispered, “I want to fuck you.”

The noise that you made was sinful.

“Fuck, Daniel,” you muttered.

“Is that a yes?” he prompted, pulling back to look you in the eyes.

“Right here?” you questioned.

“Right here,” he confirmed, his body pressed against yours. 

Your eyes shifted to the unlocked, closed door, “What if someone walks in or can hear us?”

Daniel shrugged, and that arrogant smirk graced his lips again, “Who cares? They would only be jealous that I am the one fucking you.”

That comment went straight to your pussy. You could feel the wetness begin to coat your underwear. You were so turned on at the idea of someone catching you guys that nothing could stop you from going through with it. You needed Daniel. So, you found yourself nodding your head once again.

“Okay, but we are going to have to be quick. We have already been gone for a long time,” you expressed. 

With you in agreement, Daniel quickly captured your lips with his before pulling his undershirt over his head. Your eyes scanned his ink-covered skin, taking him in. Your hands reached out on their own accord and ran over the smooth planes of his chest. Your fingers brushed over his hardened nipples as they wandered. Daniel hissed at the contact.

While your fingertips danced over his body, Daniel pulled a condom out of his pocket before ridding himself of his pants and boxers. Then he was standing in front of you naked. An absolutely delicious sight. As if your hands had a mind of their own, you followed his happy trail to where a dusting of pubes rested above his beautiful cock. Possibly the most beautiful thing about him. His cock was hard and flushed and oh so tantalizing. That you immediately wrapped your fingers around him, and ran your hand up his length, giving him a couple of pumps. Daniel moaned. Precum leaked from his swollen tip. Mouth-watering. You just wanted to sink to your knees and take him in your mouth. To taste him, to have him grip your hair while he fucked your wet, open mouth. But, as if he could read your mind, Daniel removed your hands from him.

“As much as I want to take my time here, we have to be quick remember?”

“Right,” you responded.

Daniel returned his lips to yours as he pulled down your underwear, forcing them down your legs until they hit the floor. His left hand grabbed your thigh to hook your leg around his waist. You moaned as your now bare, wet pussy glided along Daniel’s length. Your hips lustfully rocked against him as the head of his cock caught against your clit. Daniel swore under his breath as he gripped your hip to stop your movements.

“Babe, I want to last long enough to fuck you,” Daniel groaned. 

“Then hurry up,” you demanded. 

With a chuckle, Daniel reached between your bodies, his fingers ran down your wet folds. Collecting the juices that leaked from you, teasing you as he gently circled your clit. Barely providing any pressure, giving you just enough for your cunt to pulse around nothing.  

“Daniel,” you whined. 

That prompted him to press two fingers into your dripping core. You moaned at the intrusion. Daniel pumped his fingers into you at a quick pace. Wanting to loosen you up enough to take his cock. The sound of your wetness mixed with the moans that came from your mouth. Daniel pulled his fingers out of you, so he could quickly roll the condom on his leaking cock. 

Once sheathed, he ran the tip of his cock through your wetness. Coating himself in you. Then without warning, he fucked into you. You moaned as he filled you up. Loving the way he stretched you. It was orgasmic. Daniel groaned as you clenched around him. Then he was thrusting into you deep and hard, unrelenting as he was trying to get both of you to orgasm. You chanted his name as he rhythmically pumped into you. As you began to come undone beneath him, Daniel returned his hand between your legs to rub your clit. Doubling the pleasure. You shoved your hand in your mouth, muffling the sounds of pleasure that you could not contain. You were going to come embarrassingly quick and by the sounds of it so was Daniel.

“I am going to come,” you moaned.

“Me too,” Daniel responded.

He picked up the pace pushing you closer to the edge. Daniel leaned forward to quickly kiss you before he commanded, “Come for me.”

That is all it took. A scream ripped from your throat as you released over his cock. The squelch of wetness echoed against the tiled walls. As your pussy constrcited around Daniel’s cock it was more than enough to have him come. Fucking his dick deep in you as he released into the condom. The guttuaral sound he made caused your release to drip down his cock as your pussy coaxed more cum from him. Wanting him to empty everything into you. You both were panting as Daniel pulled out. 

Daniel untangled your leg from around him in order to wrap you in his arms. An innocent kiss was pressed to your lips before Daniel stepped back to remove the condom and tossing it in the bin. 

Daniel’s arms quickly returned to pull you into his chest. A sweet kiss was placed on your forehead as he held you for a moment. You both stood there, breathing each other in as you came down from your highs, before Daniel removed his arms so you could clean yourself up. 

Once clean, you shimmied your underwear back up your body while Daniel got dressed himself. Looking in the mirror, you tried your best to fix your appearance so it did not look like you just were fucked in the bathroom, but you are sure it was useless. Neither of you was quiet, you are positive everyone heard. 

Once your clothes were back in place. Daniel wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your temple. Undoubtedly cuddly after an orgasm. 

“Next time I am going to fuck you properly,” Daniel declared. You shivered. Pressing your thighs together just at the thought. 

“Oh, so you think there will be a next time?” you challenged. 

Daniel laughed that cocky laugh, “Babe, I know there will be a next time.”

With that, he kissed you one last time before grabbing your hand and leading you out of the bathroom. The both of you made your way into the living room, where everyone had moved to after the incident. All eyes turned to the two of you as you walked through the doorway. 

“I guess the bathroom has been christened,” your friend joked.

Your face heated up with embarrassment, your neck and cheeks turned a fiery red. Daniel just pulled you closer and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Next time I will just bend her over the dining table and have everyone watch,” Daniel retorted.

“Daniel!” you exclaimed, smacking him.

All he could do was laugh and guide you to an empty place on the sofa. Pulling you onto his lap, though there was enough space for you to sit next to him, and he joined the conversation. Maybe Daniel was not so bad after all.

[celtic-crossbow]

Blood Ties Chapter 29

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Slightly graphic depictions of labor and childbirth A/N: Maybe a cliffhanger. Maybe not. You'll have to read to find out! ;) Daryl is definitely ooc in this. I'm sorry, I tried to get as close as I could to how he might react. Also, the saying he uses is one we use in the south that means "how is that relevant?" You'll know it when you read it, lol.

“About 4cm now. Progressing nicely.” Hershel informed, wiping his hands on a cloth that Carol had provided. 

Rick and T-Dog were out doing yet another night run in the van. It was also low on fuel but the map showed another town close by. Fuel, gloves, and other necessities were on the list. Glenn was on watch with Daryl for backup if anything happened. It wasn’t an ideal situation but it couldn’t be helped.

Thumper was calling the shots at that point. 

Before the men had left, Daryl had confiscated all the blankets except for those that were for Lori and Carl. When Glenn began to complain, one look from the anxiety-driven archer had brought the young man very close to hiding behind Rick. While some blankets were used for your comfort, others were fashioned into a tent-like structure over the bare branches of a decently sized bush. You needed some sense of privacy. 

Carol and Lori had dug through the maternity clothes that hadn’t been lost on the road and found a button up dress. It was comfortable and made things much easier than leggings. 

After your immediate needs had been met, Daryl then perched himself just beside your shoulder and hadn’t moved since. 

“S’the number we’re aimin’ for?” He asked with frustration lacing his tone, making sure the blankets were back over you and tucked tight to keep you warm. He had been muttering to himself how he wished he had made time to read the rest of the books. Daryl was not a man that liked being in the dark on anything. It made him feel helpless, as you had learned over the last several months. 

“She needs to be at 10cm and the baby needs to be in the correct position before she can push.” The old man positioned the ear tubes of the stethoscope before pressing it against several spots on your belly. “Heart beat is strong. Everything is looking good.”

You had remained quiet until that moment. “Do I just—I don’t know—lay here?”

“Walking encourages the cervix to dilate and soften. Once you dilate a little further, the contractions will likely be stronger, whether painful or not.” The calmness that man practiced really made you want to strangle him with that stethoscope. “Make sure you don’t go alone, and—”

“She ain’t.” Daryl snapped. 

Hershel shot him an admonishing look. “As I was saying, take breaks. Sleep when you can. I’ll check you periodically. You’ll need to keep timing the contractions, son.” Daryl nodded. “Sip small amounts of water, no food. Keep me informed of any changes. And as unpleasant as it may sound, if you feel the pressure and urge as if you may need to have a bowel movement, call for me immediately.”

You, as well as Daryl, reared back, lips curling. 

“The fuck that gotta do with the price’a fish?” The archer queried, not so nicely. 

“Settle down. The pressure from the baby’s head moving into the birth canal can feel similar to that.” Shaking his head, Hershel shuffled his way out of your tiny tent. 

Finally alone, you turned onto your side and scooted your upper body toward Daryl. He stretched out his legs so you could rest on his thigh. 

“Get some rest.” His hand wiggled beneath the blanket and rubbed up and down the length of your upper arm, but moved to your belly when another contraction took over. Without prompting, he slid his warm palm around to your lower back and applied the least bit of pressure, rubbing small circles. You buried your face into his thigh to ride it out, but you had to admit the light massaging helped, if only a little. 

“You’re supposed to be—” You were panting when you rolled your head to remind him, but found the watch already lifted to eye level, his gaze shifting from it to your stomach. 

“Sleep if ya can. I got this.” His brow was furrowed in concentration, your heart swelling and warm. Any worry you had entertained of him running when things got real, just gone in an instant. He was there. He was there. 

“I’ll try.” You whispered, the pain finally an afterthought. You felt him slide his hand back to the side of your stomach before you let yourself succumb to exhaustion. 

“Sorry, Sunshine. Doc says up, so up ya get.”

You let Daryl take your dead weight and pull you up by a grip beneath your arms, making it as difficult as possible so you might get to stay in your warm little nest. You were still at 4cm. Hershel had said you had to start walking to help labor progress. 

“This isn’t fair.” You whined, rubbing your back once you were upright. The pain that accompanied each contraction had lessened but was still ever present. “Can’t you walk and I dilate?”

Daryl snorted. “Don’t think that’s how it works.” He placed a careful hand on the small of your back and kept your pace, slow as it was. 

“Okay, then how about if it gets worse, I kick you in the balls and punch you in the kidneys so you can participate properly?” You were only half joking. 

“If it gets ya through this, I guess.” The archer shrugged. You regarded him with a skeptical brow arched. 

“You’d really let me do that?”

“Hell nah, but s’the thought that counts or some shit like that, right?” He didn’t even try to dodge the smack you aimed at his shoulder. 

“You’re hilarious.” You deadpanned, even as you leaned into him while you strolled in circles around the perimeter. The moonlight caught the watch in his right hand, his finger tapping against the casing. Bless him, he was taking his role of supportive partner very seriously. You gasped when the next contraction came, stopping to bend slightly and breathe through it while Daryl secured an arm around you and flipped open the watch. 

When it was clear you weren’t falling, he slid his hand to the middle of your back and massaged the length of your spine using gentle pressure from the heel of his palm. He never said much—if anything—during the episodes themselves, but kept you informed of the timing of each one. 

“Oh, goddamnit, this one sucks.” You managed through clenched teeth. You swayed slightly when it was over, grasping blindly for the man next to you. 

“Thirteen minutes since the last’un. A minute, twelve.” He was slow and careful when turning you back toward camp. “Let’s getcha back to Hershel.” 

You shook your head. “One last loop, then we can go back.” Daryl didn’t say anything but you felt him tense. “I’m sure. They’re just getting a little more painful in the stomach, less in the back.” 

He still hesitated. “Alright. One more.”

Hershel stepped into your path before you started the second loop, allowing Daryl to fill him in on the last contraction. 

“Do one more. Rest. And then again.” The old man ordered curtly. 

Once he had vanished back toward the small fire, you mocked his words. “Rest and then again.” Daryl shook his head beside you. “I mean seriously, how much help can walking actually be?”

“Fuuuuuck!” You were digging your fingers into the blankets below you, swatting away Carol’s hand when she tried to dab your face with a piece of cloth. Daryl was sitting beside you, wide-eyed and lost, the watch forgotten by his leg. Hershel was between your knees, sporting his medical gloves that had been brought back by Rick and T-Dog. 

The archer cleared his throat. “She alright?” 

“Do I look alright, Daryl?!” You hissed, making an admirable attempt at breathing the way Carol was instructing. The contraction finally ended and you fell back onto the folded blankets. “I’m sorry.” You found his worried blue eyes easily and fumbled for his hand. 

“S’okay.” He whispered, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. 

“She’s at 6cm. We can still time the contractions but I think she may need your attention more than that watch does now.” Hershel reached for the item and placed it in his pocket once Daryl handed it over. “Keep moving but stay closer, no more perimeter walks.”

Daryl nodded, you whimpered. 

“I’ll be back soon to check again. If we’re lucky, things will move a little faster now that you’re in active labor.” Hershel left the tent while Carol fixed your dress. 

“I know it hurts, but you two will have little Thumper in your arms in just a matter of hours.” She smoothed your hair and tucked it behind your ears. “You’re doing great.”

“I don’t feel like I’m doing great.” You murmured, ducking your head almost bashfully. “I’m really sorry I snapped at you, Daryl. It just—well, it hurts and it’s hard to think.”

“Ain’t mad.” He tried for a half smile but it was weak. “Better than gettin’ kicked in the balls, I reckon.” You laughed and squeezed his hand. “Guess we oughtta getcha up again.”

“I’ll help.” Carol offered. You could see that a refusal was on the tip of Daryl’s tongue but he never voiced it. With Carol under one arm and Daryl under the other, you were pulled upright. 

Your body already felt wrung out and sore, and the epic finale hadn’t even begun. Still, you allowed Carol to pass you off to Daryl. 

“We movin’ on? Be better to find a house or somethin’.” He looped an arm around your back, following as you shuffled your way around. 

Carol shrugged, not touching you but keeping up with your small strides. “Both vehicles have fuel but Hershel isn’t sure we should move her. He thinks the baby will come soon and she needs to be kept in one place.”

You groaned, letting your head fall back in frustration. “She is right here. And if my opinion matters, I’d rather not—” The contraction came on strong, halting you suddenly with your hand fisting into the lower part of Daryl’s vest. The archer stepped around in front of you, rough but gentle hands grasping your wrists to guide your arms to his shoulders. 

“Try to breathe. Sometimes humming or even moaning helps, like an outlet.” Carol advised while rubbing your back. 

Your head fell forward against Daryl’s chest, a deep but quiet moan muffled against the firm muscle beyond his shirt. His hands had fallen to your hips, his body followed you as you swayed back and forth. The episodes were growing more intense, coming closer together and lasting longer. It wasn’t difficult to surmise that things would be growing more difficult to handle. 

“Ain’t nothin’ we can do for ‘er?” Daryl asked quietly above you, each word blowing his warm breath over the top of your head. Carol must have answered in the negative because his fingers flexed against your hips. 

The skin of your belly was pulled so tightly that you swore it would tear open, the muscles feeling as if they would pulse right out of the gaping hole your torn flesh would leave. 

“Shit.” You whimpered, your voice finding its way back during the last dregs of pain. You almost didn’t register warm hands gliding up and down your sides, a smaller hand on your back. “I don’t want to have the baby here.” You argued weakly. “It’s too open. Things will be too chaotic, too loud.”

“I know, Sunshine, but the doc says—”

“I don’t want to risk Thumper here in the open, Daryl. With—with walkers or people.” With enough strength having returned after the pain, you lifted your head, eyes pleading. “Please.”

The archer was visibly upset. He was just as vulnerable as you were at that moment, torn between what he felt was right and what Hershel said was for the best. His tongue wet his bottom lip before he pulled it in between his teeth, looking to Carol for guidance. 

“Could lay down the seats in the van. Use the back.” He suggested. “Plenty’a room an’ if we need to move fast—”

“I don’t think that’s unreasonable.” Carol agreed, rubbing your back in a few soft strokes before beginning to move away. “I’ll go talk to Hershel. You two keep walking.”

You watched her go, turning your gaze up to Daryl when he shifted back to your side to urge you along. “Gotta keep movin’.” You groaned, dragging your feet with your head falling back in frustration. 

You were in the middle of a contraction, when you heard it. A snarl, a raspy growl much too close. You were already clinging to Daryl and breathing through the pain that was readying your body for Thumper’s arrival, but you’d have to let him go. He had to protect the baby. And to do that, he had to protect you. 

But he didn’t move. He was nearly vibrating, rigid beneath your hands on his shoulders. He was just as scared as you were, even more so. He knew he could take the walker but that would mean letting you go. He needed to protect you but he wanted to support you. He had told you he'd never let you fall and you knew he had meant it.

“Go.” Your hands slid from his shoulders, down his chest before they released him completely to clutch your belly.

His boots disappeared from your view of the ground but you couldn’t focus after that. The pain was growing in intensity, immobilizing you with your lips tightly pressed to withhold the cries that vibrated behind your teeth for release. You couldn’t, you just couldn’t make a sound. You’d attract more, endanger everyone. You’d endanger Thumper. Daryl. 

There were scuffles. More snarls. Tears were threatening your waterline. Pain was coursing through you like a serpent, slithering around each muscle and tendon and pulling them tight. You felt disappointment and guilt over all the agony when your mouth fell open with a guttural moan, your will to cut off the scream that begged to follow barely holding true. 

“D—Daryl.” You cried out. And he was there, hands on your face, your biceps, your belly. 

“M’here. M’here. Gotta move, though.” He swept you up with the slightest strained noise. “Gonna getcha to the van. Gonna find somewhere safe for ya.” The pain was fading. You could focus on the dark blood on his face, the dirt and grime. 

“Herd?” You whispered. 

“Ain’t your fault.” His expression emanated fear and stress. “The hatch.” Someone was with him. The small hands that opened the back of the van and spread out the blankets, those were Carol’s. She sat a pile of smaller blankets and squares of fabric toward the indents on the floor where the seats had been stowed. 

“Get as many in the truck as you can! In the cab and the bed!” Rick was calling out at the same time that Hershel climbed into the van. Daryl was careful when he placed you inside, climbing over you before pulling you further in to make room for Hershel and Carol. 

Through your haze of exhaustion, you saw Rick climb in the driver's seat and Maggie beside him. That meant that five others had to somehow fit into the truck. 

“Is everyone okay?” You asked, eyes pleading with Daryl for an honest answer. 

“Yeah, they’re all good.” He nodded, smoothing a hand over your hair. 

The van was moving, though you didn’t realize when it had started. Hershel was between your knees when another contraction came. It felt like only moments had passed since the last one. In the safety of the van, though you couldn’t be bothered to consider that, you bowed forward with a scream. Daryl gingerly worked your fingers loose from the blanket to take your hand. 

“She’s at 9cm. This baby is coming soon.” Hershel didn’t move this time, he and Carol began sorting things that you couldn’t see. Panting, you leaned to the side, knowing Daryl would be there. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and squeezed. 

“What—” He swallowed audibly. “Tell me what I need to do.” 

“Just be with her.” Carol poured some water from a bottle onto a piece of fabric and passed it across you for Daryl to take. “Wipe her face, put it behind her neck.”

The archer’s hand was trembling fiercely when you felt the blessed cool cloth touch your forehead. The moan that left you was not one of pain but utter relief. “Oh, that’s nice.” You breathed. Your skin was on fire, every cell of your being felt twisted and wrong. But that trembling cloth wiping at your face grounded you, centered you around what your body was preparing to do. 

You were so close to being a mother. 

But that didn’t stop the scream that ripped from your throat when the next contraction tore through you. You sat up, propped on your elbows with your eyes screwed shut. Tears leaked from the corners, the wailing cutting off into wretched sobs when you felt Daryl’s forehead fall against the crown of your head, his mantra of m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry shattering you into a million shards. 

You couldn’t tell him it was okay. You couldn’t remind him why you hurt. You couldn’t reassure him that he was the one you wanted and you were more than happy to do this with him. For him. You didn’t have the breath. 

“Don’t push, Y/N. Not yet.” Hershel’s tone was even but not cruel, his gloved hands on your knees. 

“It fucking burns!” You shrieked, squeezing Daryl’s hand until you were certain you felt the bones shift. The contraction let up, the fiery sensation dulling but ever present. 

“What’s happenin’?” Daryl sounded breathless. Terrified. You were still catching your breath when you looked up at him. His tan skin was white as a sheet, no color in his lips. His blue eyes were brighter than you’d ever seen them. From tears or fear, you couldn’t be sure. 

“The baby’s in the right position. Y/N, it’ll be time to push soon. It’ll be very important for you to listen to everything I say. Can you do that?” Hershel wasn’t looking at you, between moving around things Carol was handing to him and keeping a constant eye on your progress. Distantly, you wondered why it was Carol at his side and not Maggie. Maybe because you were close with Carol? For your comfort? 

“Yeah. Yeah, I can.” You turned your attention back to Daryl when his grip on your hand loosened slightly. He swayed, the pallor of his skin growing more concerning. “Daryl?”

The archer shook his head almost violently. “M’good.”

“Okay, I just—oh, fuck, already!?” You grit your teeth as your stomach tightened, a visible shift beneath the fabric of your dress. 

“Maggie, can you climb back here?” Hershel requested calmly. His eldest said nothing but maneuvered her way into the back and on your opposite side. “I fear we may lose Daryl at any moment and Y/N will need support.”

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Daryl snapped but it was a weak effort. He inhaled deeply and began squeezing your hand to keep you from dislocating his fingers. 

“Here.” Carol passed him an opened bottle of water. “Drink a few sips. You’re white as a ghost.”

You were barely aware of everything happening around you, shaking almost violently to refrain from bearing down until Hershel told you to do so. It was bordering on excruciating. 

“Jesus Christ, it feels like you’re holding a flamethrower to my fucking pussy!” 

Hershel sighed while Maggie and Carol chuckled and Daryl snorted out a quiet nice, Y/N. 

“It’s just the birth canal stretching to make room for the baby.” The veterinarian explained coolly. 

“Just?” You mocked. “Just, he says while it’s my—oh Jesus fuck!” With all the presence of mind you could summon, you managed not to start screaming at Daryl for putting you in that position. You knew that beyond the pain and fear, you wanted Thumper in your arms more than anything in that fucked up world. 

“Okay, Y/N,” Hershel patted your bare knees just at the tail end of the contraction to ensure he had your attention. You had fallen back against Maggie while Daryl held the cool cloth against the back of your neck. His hand was vibrating your skull to the point that you nearly asked him to move away. “You’re ready. On the next contraction, you need to push.”

“God, your calm voice makes me want to kick you in the teeth.” You didn’t mean it—mostly. Hershel must have known that because he chuckled. You could feel the next contraction already building when the van lurched to a stop, throwing everyone in it. 

“We got a herd in front of us!” Rick called from the front. 

“Go ‘round it! Turn ‘round! Just keep ‘em off us!” Daryl yelled as the pain peaked. “Fuck!” He bellowed when your hand began to shake with how hard you squeezed his own. 

“Push!” Hershel shouted over the bumps and jerks of the van doing whatever Rick had deemed best. “Good, good!” He began to countdown from ten while you screamed.

You were being torn open. Thumper was going to rip you in half on their way out. Your throat was raw, surely bleeding from your wails. When the old man reached one, you fell back against Maggie but Daryl’s hand was there too. 

“Maggie, Daryl, hold behind her knees. Help support her legs. It’ll keep her hips open.” Both moved forward, taking you with them to sit you up a little straighter. Daryl had to release your hand to hold you and your leg. The archer hissed with the pressure against his abused palm. “Perfect. Alright, Y/N. A nice, strong push this time.”

You almost snarled. “Last one wasn’t good enough?”

“Easy, Sunshine.” You felt Daryl's lips against your temple and yearned to keep them there. 

“I’m sorry, Hershel.” Once again, the man simply smiled. Lori had told you that childbirth in the movies was often dramatized but so far, you weren’t seeing the truth in that statement. When the contraction reached a crescendo, you leaned forward while Maggie and Daryl held your legs steady. The pain was extraordinary. You almost wished you could see what was happening, but any train of thought was derailed with Hershel’s next words.

“The baby is crowning!” 

Gasping, you swallowed hard, glancing at Daryl—who had a front row seat to what was happening—and then back to Hershel. “Crowning?”

“The head will be out soon.” 

“All this and we don’t even have the head out?!” You screeched, just as your stomach rippled into a rigid mound and you were pushing again. This pain was different. Thumper was definitely ripping you apart. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! It burns!”

“S’that—” Daryl cleared his throat and swallowed, swaying on the spot. “S’that normal?”

“Perfectly normal.” Hershel glanced up at the archer, back down, and then up again. “Carol.” He needn’t say anything else. The other woman was moving to grab the back of your leg and let Daryl fall against her so he didn’t smack his head on the side of the van.

You were completely unaware, your entire focus centered on the inferno between your legs. There was no way any woman would willingly do this unmedicated. Never in your life had you wanted drugs more than you did in that moment. Thumper. Thumper, Thumper. You chanted internally, even as your vocal chords vibrated harshly with your screams. And just as you thought you would lose consciousness from the pain, it lessened. It hadn’t disappeared but comparatively, you would take that over the prior. 

“The head is out!” 

Panting, you smiled but then fell into confusion when you saw Carol beside your leg and Daryl slumped against her. “Daryl? Daryl?!” You shifted but Maggie held you still. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine.” Hershel chuckled. 

“Who knew a man that could gut a walker without batting an eye couldn’t watch his baby’s head come out?” Carol smiled but began to act, jerking her shoulder to jar the archer. “Daryl. Daryl, wake up. You don’t want to miss this.” He stirred and started to lean back. “Think you can take a look without losing it again?”

“Shuddup.” He shook his head hard, grunting. His hand was the first thing to move, sliding beneath Carol’s to take hold of your leg. Then he was looking at you. “M’sorry. That was—fuck, m’a pussy.” Maggie was moving your hand and pulling you forward as you watched your partner. 

Then your fingers were touching a soft, albeit slimy, head. 

You gasped. “Daryl.”

The man gulped, but then sat up on his knees a little. You watched the fear and apprehension melt away into awe, his jaw loosening, eyebrows rising, and eyes beginning to shine. “S’that—”

“That’s Thumper.” You were able to say before Hershel announced your miniscule break was over. He didn’t need to say a word, your body was already letting you know. Daryl’s hold felt stronger now and he was watching with an awestruck intensity that just made your heart want to explode even as you rode out the waves of agony. You were going to be a little family.

Then, out of the blue, you could feel something was different, wrong.

“Her—Hershel—Ow, fuck—” You fingers clawed at Daryl’s chest, his wet eyes going wide with concern. The contraction ended and you were gasping and swallowing convulsively, feeling nauseous regardless of your lack of food. Daryl’s eyes were darting back and forth between you and the old man. “Daryl, something—something’s wrong.” You could tell the baby had not moved an inch during the pushing, but not only that, it felt like they had actually pulled back toward your opening. 

“I know.” Hershel’s voice had lost the calm and was taking on an emergent edge. “The baby is stuck.”

Panic flashed over Daryl’s face in the form of anger. “The fuck ya mean stuck?!”

Still trying to catch your breath, sweat dripping into your eyes, you thought for certain Daryl was going to jump across your leg and attack the old man. Thankfully, he remained at your side. Trembling and breath stuttering, but he wasn’t moving. 

“Shoulder dystocia. The baby is turned in such a way that the shoulders can’t fit through the pelvis. Carol, I will need your help, please.” You were already on the edge of the next contraction when Hershel nearly barked “Y/N, don’t push.”

“What the fuck’re ya doin’?” Daryl snapped, leaning over your leg to investigate. So many emotions were battling for dominance in his expression that you couldn’t even begin to imagine how he was feeling.

“Daryl, please.” You pleaded, trying your hardest not to sob. For once, you cared nothing about being self-reliant or what the group thought of you and how much you needed Daryl. As you fought through the pain and against your body’s natural insistence to push, you just cried. Daryl kept a hand below your knee, too afraid to move unless Hershel gave the okay, but he leaned as far as he could to hold you without influencing your position.

“S’okay, Sunshine. S’gonna be okay.”

“Y/N, listen to me. I can feel the shoulder.” Now, the veterinarian’s tone was just downright frightening. “Maggie and Daryl are going to pull your legs back on the next contraction. I’m going to apply some pressure above your pubic bone. It’s not going to be pleasant, but if I’m correct, the head should come and then the baby. I need you to push with all you have, do you understand?”

You pressed your cheek further into Daryl’s chest and nodded, hiccuping through ragged, exhausted breaths. When the contraction began to tear through you, Maggie and Daryl reacted immediately, pulling your legs toward your belly while you curled inward with a guttural scream. Hershel pressed into the area just above your pubic bone, the pressure only compounding the whirlwind of pain you were already caught in. And then it was over and you let the two supporters take your weight.

The van rocked again, but was ignored. Hershel looked at Carol gravely and shook his head. 

“S’that ‘bout?” Daryl hissed, trying hard for your sake not to lose his cool.

“It didn’t work.” Before Daryl could speak, the old man continued. “We’re going to try one more time. If it doesn’t work, there are a couple of other things we can try but time is of the essence. The baby isn’t getting the oxygen they need like this.”

“Whatever ya gotta do. Just take care’a both’a ‘em.” 

Hershel nodded. “Alright, same thing, Y/N. A big, big push for me.”

You shook your head, exhausted. “I can’t.” You whispered, your eyelids heavy as hope attempted to flee and you accepted that once again, the world would take from you. It would take from Daryl. “I’m so tired.” You felt movement beneath your left leg and then Daryl’s hand was grasping your chin, firm but gentle. 

“Hey. Cut that shit out.” He wasn’t angry. He was using the same tone you’d heard him use when he had told Thumper to cut you some slack. When he had started communicating with the baby. “Ya’ve gone through hell an’ back for this an’ I ain’t lettin’ ya quit at the goddamn finish line, ya hear me?”

“I’m tired, Daryl.” Your face screwed up in pain as the next contraction began to build.

“Nu uh. Ya ain’t gonna bust into my life an’ fuck up my world six ways from Sunday, make me love ya an’ this kid, an’ then just give up. S’you an’ me an’ Thumper. S’what ya said!”

You blinked at him, slowly starting to sit up.

“I’ve seen ya be a badass before, Sunshine.” Your breaths were coming faster, the contraction nearly on top of you, but you only had eyes for Daryl. “Be a fuckin’ badass now.” His hand left your face and went back to your leg, pulling it toward you at the same time Maggie moved the right one. 

You screamed so loud that you were certain the rocks and bumps of the van were due to your wails alone. Something shifted, you felt it and it hurt. You were on fire and aching at the same time. When the contraction ended, you still felt painfully stretched and bruised and uncomfortable. “Did—did it work?” You panted, grasping desperately for Daryl’s shirt.

“The head is out, the shoulders are turned. One more big push, Y/N. Just one more.”

You breathed harshly through your nose, trying to amp yourself up. Maggie and Carol were throwing encouragement your way, but you didn’t hear them. You only felt Dary’s breath against your ear, his stubbled cheek rubbing against your skin.

He whispered, only for you to hear. “I love ya.” Kissing your temple, he moved back to his spot and when you looked at him, exhausted and crying, the corner of his mouth twitched and he nodded.

You could do this.

When the next contraction ripped through you, the world went silent. It was only you and the pain, white hot and all consuming. You were indeed being torn in half but if it meant Thumper would take that first breath, would open those little eyes to see the world—fucked up or not—then you would gladly be wrenched into pieces. 

The moment the baby slipped free of you, you felt the emptiness. You still hurt, but the worst of the pain was suddenly absent. Sound and sight came back to you in an onslaught that had you sucking in a breath like your lungs had been starved. 

“Is—Hershel, the baby?” You asked, trying to move as Daryl and Maggie lowered your legs. The archer was leaning across your knee. You couldn’t even tell if he was breathing, but his eyes were wide and darting. 

“Doc—”

The ferocious first cries of the distraught newborn echoed throughout the van. Maggie had moved behind you to keep you sitting up while Daryl had staggered backward and fallen on his ass against the interior wall, eyes on the little thing that Hershel was looking over intently. Maggie reached over your shoulder and began unbuttoning your dress, whispering in your ear as she moved.

“The baby needs to nurse, bond with you on your skin and it’ll help when you have to push out the placenta, okay?” You blinked at her, concerned. “It’s okay. It’s nothing like what you just went through. One or two small pushes and it’s out.”’ You nodded robotically, watching Hershel maneuver some sort of tape around a slimy cord.

Thumper was not happy. They were probably cold and that thought made your heart ache. Your baby should never be uncomfortable. Daryl was slowly, clumsily making his way toward you, but wasn’t taking his eyes off the baby. When he was sitting beside you, Hershel finally leaned over you and placed the squirming, slippery baby on your chest.

“Congratulations. You have a daughter.”

[decolonize-the-left]

Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s national security adviser indicated that Israel could accept a U.S. plan for a revamped Palestinian Authority to govern the Gaza Strip after the war, a sign that the Israeli leader is easing his opposition to the idea.

Israel is aware of the desire of the international community and the countries of the region to integrate the Palestinian Authority the day after Hamas, and we make it clear that the matter will require a fundamental reform of the Palestinian Authority,” Tzachi Hanegbi, who heads Israel’s National Security Council, wrote in an opinion piece published Thursday on the Arabic-language news site Elaph.

"I'll agree to stop commiting genocide but only if you guys agree to my very specific conditions for the next leadership" is practically in the CIA handbook.

'destabilize a region then exploit the power vaccum and desperation it creates' is a play we've seen over and over again.

The question is why is Israel doing it?

Because it is a puppet state. It's serves the purpose of providing the USA someone to hide behind while they destabilize the region.

A puppet state, puppet régime, puppet government or dummy government is a state that is de jure independent but de facto completely dependent upon an outside power and subject to its orders.

Puppet states have nominal sovereignty, except that a foreign power effectively exercises control through economic or military support.

By leaving a local government in existence the outside power evades all responsibility, while at the same time successfully paralyzing the local government they tolerate.

"Why would the usa be using Israel to destabilize the middle east tho?"

An excellent question!

Short answer: using their own armies to carry out the plans is a surefire way to land themselves in a world war and so using Israel is an easy cop out.

The longer answer is very long.

So what "plans" are they trying to carry out, exactly, right?

Saving the Suez from "Islamist threats" "to secure freedom of navigation." You know, just like our Secretary of Defense said.

You know who else said that though? The plans outlined in Project 2025 by the Heritage Foundation. "The one that's gonna put queer people in detention centers?" Yeah that one. In fact our official are using a lot of the Same Exact Language and working found in Project2025.

Isn't that interesting?

Let's look at page 285, together.

Well, we've certainly seen headlines of this right? "Israel has a right to defend itself" and to take what it deems appropriate measures is how the USA has been avoiding calling Netanyahu a war criminal isn't it? A Google search will show Biden also has tried to block/stop Iran's nuclear development.

Very reassuring that they see the need for that for precaution, isn't it?

And sure maybe you could say this is a conspiracy theory, except US representatives are using the same EXACT language and Islamophobia to justify what's happening. Exhibit #1 the link to secretary of state, but don't worry. We're just warming up and he's not the only one.

Let's continue, we're almost to the part where it all comes together.

Translation: the Suez Canal brings Egypt billions of dollars a year and several parties (the countries listed) would prefer that money be funneled to them instead. The problem is that the aforementioned parties have been destabilizing the region for so long that establishing an alternate trade route through those territories would be seen as an act of aggression if not war.

The heritage foundation has always intended to call anyone who resists that plan a terrorist. Its their way of manufacturing consent to kill people.

And we can see Netanyahu and Biden both following that lead. "The terrorists are just such a giant threat, how could I possibly stop supporting Israel's fight against them?"

From Dec 10, 2023

So isn't it just so crazy that the countries and regions outlined there (US, Israel, India, Egypt, and Gulf States) are ALSO the countries who presented the IMEC at the G20 summit in September, just a month before Israel started it's genocide?

Oh, you don't know what the IMEC is or why it matters?

Well remember the Suez and how much income it brings in? Yeah well it's also regulated by the state, which means it can't be bought or bribed the same way that a canal owned privately could.

Which means that Egypt is the sole benefactor and controls who else gets to benefit. This often does not include the USA.

The USA does not like that.

Enter: the IMEC.

The India-Middle East-Europe Economic Corridor (IMEC) is a rail and shipping corridor that aims to boost regional development and economic interconnectivity between India, the USA, the UAE, Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Israel and the European Union. The project consists of two corridors: the eastern corridor will connect India to the Arabian Gulf, and the northern corridor will connect the Gulf to Europe.

[..]Hence, there are technical limitations that the IMEC may face, not least in the Middle East due to its vast desert regions. The construction of railway lines and subsequent transportation of goods would be a difficult task requiring everything from the standardisation of the railway track gauges to the engine configurations. What’s more, one of the main link ports of the IMEC, Haifa, is in Israel, a country which is unstable at the moment due to the Palestinian freedom struggle.

It's how they intend to circumvent the Suez Canal entirely.

Unfortunately for them, Palestine exists. And as such, this creates a huge problem for them in building the IMEC through Palestine to Haifa. Especially since the resistance fighters through the entire middle east violently oppose the west's imperialism.

So something must be done. Again, we refer back to calling Anyone who questions Israel as an antisemitic terrorist as justification for killing Palestinians en masse. And for the ones they can't justify killing? Moving them.

Meaning that yeah. They planned for that, too.

And not even in secret.

Dated October 13, 2023

From November 7, 2023

What this suggests, as more of Project2025 comes true is that not only is the USA aiding and abetting this war to happen.

But that they are intentionally instigating and provoking action in the middle east.

They WANT headlines like this ⬇️ Because it sets up further justification and manufactured consent to continue their genocide in the name of money.

project2025 ALSO outlines every single group the USA sees as terrorists in the USA and also outlines how each country who provides them shelter should be stripped of aid.

They have already found and written excuses for the USA to get away with collective punishment across the whole middle east.

And finally.

The condition that I fully expect to be announced

For it to be defunded. And for more of an idea we can look to this Netanyahu quote from TheGuardian

Netanyahu also made clear he wanted Israel to retain overall security control after any conflict “with the ability to go in whenever we want in order to kill terrorists”. “There will be no Hamas. There will be no civilian authority that educates their children to hate Israel, to kill Israelis, to destroy the state of Israel. There can’t be an authority there that pays the families of murderers. There needs to be something else there,” he said.

Another puppet government that'll agree to do whatever Israel (and the USA) says, perhaps?

[rinhaler]

I Finally Decided On You

✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ rin itoshi x f!reader

Genre: smut & angst Notes: in my feelings abt a friendship break up so have some angst heheheee Warnings: 18+, mutual pining, angst, pet names, cheating, dacryphilia, tit sucking ♡, vaginal sex, choking ♡, love bites, breeding kink, creampie ♡ Words: 5.8k

“You’re lonely, aren’t you?”

Your breath hitches as the words make their way into your brain. His eyes have been fixed on you for what seems like a lifetime, but it’s only after you hear him ask something so personal, so intimate, that you can bring yourself to look at him. His glimmering, jade eyes are so striking, so captivating, you can’t help but want to bare your soul to him.

“You shouldn’t ask me something like that.” you whisper, unable to hide your smile as you are both all too aware of the irony of your sentence. There are so many things neither of you should be doing right now.

And yet, here you are, allowing the 4am sky to encase your bodies in a melancholic blanket. You’re waiting for one more sentence to spill from his lips that will have your deepest secrets tumbling from yours.

You know him.

He knows you.

And it’s so comforting.

You’ve never felt like this with anyone before. He’s so easy to talk to, and even easier to be around. It’s almost like a punishment. The worlds cruellest joke that you’re being subjected to.

“You shouldn’t be in my bed, but you’re here. So, talk to me.” he smiles, effortlessly. A smile that he’d only ever show you. An expression that only you are worthy of and the only person he’d ever trust to experience it. It’s so loving. It’s like being home.

You’re quiet, your own smile fading slightly as you think about his question. What had you done to make him even ask it? You’re lonely. Is that true? You have friends, family, a lover. Realistically, you can’t be lonely.

“I am.” you tell him, honestly, finally finding his gaze once more. Allowing him to scan your trusting eyes so he can see there isn’t a trace of a lie. And he does, stare, until he looks at your lips briefly, and then back to your eyes.

“You’re lonely?”

“Yes.”

He hums, thinking about it for a moment. You don’t deserve to feel that way. Though it may be his heart talking. It might be the fact that he’s head over heels in love with you.

Every moment with you is so saccharine, so disgustingly dizzying that it could make him vomit from excess. He can’t get enough of you. He’s ravenous for you.

Your taste.

Each kiss you allow him to take is so seraphic, your candied lips cloying his insides. It hurts to be with you sometimes, he knows what this is and what it will be. He knows what he is to you and what he will never be. He hates himself, and honestly, he hates you a little bit in that same breath. Though he locks that feeling of loathing deep down inside, he doesn’t want to feel it. He doesn’t want to care that much.

Whatever you are to each other now, in this moment, is enough.

His face nears yours, and you observe him as his eyes close. Yours close too, gently, and you feel his lips on yours. His hand cups your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek as he deepens the kiss only slightly. He pulls away, eyes glittering as he observes you. He’s making sure you’re okay, that what he just did was okay.

And it is.

He pulls you closer to him, enveloping your body in his before carefully planting his lips on your cheek. He sighs, a little. The heavy, disheartened breath rushing through your ear canal. It makes you shudder, so he holds you tighter.

“You aren’t alone, you know.” he tells you, quietly. You feel tears pricking at your eyes as he starts speaking. He cares, so much, you can almost feel his passion vibrating from his skin and passing through you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know.” you sniffle. “It’s just hard.”

“I know.” he agrees, kissing atop your head as a show of comfort. He just can’t get enough of you. He can’t stop himself from being with you like this, even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t. These moments with you are his main source of happiness. Getting to know you so viscerally is everything to him. Whenever you’re together, like this, he gets to peel back another layer of who you are.

“I’m so—” you stop, your eyes catching his again before you brush away the thought. You’re playing with fire, with him. You’re letting him scrutinize your body as you bare your self-inflicted gaping wounds. Allowing him to decide whether to pour alcohol and salt into your ruined flesh. “I’m just sick of feeling like shit all of the time.” you sigh a little before laughing.

“Don’t.” he huffs, his thumb stroking your face again. It’s a bid to make your body submit to his. “I don’t like it when you perform for me.”

You smile, again, nodding in acceptance as you take his word as truth. It makes sense why he isn’t fond of you acting for him, though for some reason you can’t seem to help yourself. Wrapping your body in an invisible gauze as you do all that you can to prevent your lacerated skin from becoming infected by him.

“Rin?” you whisper again, almost hoping he won’t have heard you say his name. “Do you love me?”

The question almost wounds him. You see his eyes begin to tremor as he wonders if you want him to answer that. And answer it genuinely. He rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. Your bodies are mirrored up above, and he can’t help but stare at his own reflection as he contemplates how to answer. His heart skips a beat when you inch closer to him, wrapping an arm around his torso as you caress him and await his response.

He hates how little effort you need to make to force him to smile.

“Yeah.” he tells you. But he doesn’t look at you, still staring at himself in the mirror above. It’s a confession for him as well as you. “I’m in love with you. Is that okay?”

Of course he’s asking for permission to love you. Though even if you were to say no, it’s not like he could just stop his feelings. It isn’t okay, of course it isn’t. Nothing about what you’re doing is okay. Whatever you’re not meant to do always makes you feel most alive. It makes you feel excited. And right now, you feel wanted. You feel loved.

You don’t feel lonely.

You’re quiet for a moment, but you hope the smile you’re donning will show that you’re appreciative of his honesty. It takes you a while to think about how to respond. You could say it back, but what good will it do? If you don’t say anything, you’re sure he’ll be upset, but he won’t tell you that. You don’t want to hurt him, that’s the last thing you want.

“Thank you.” you tell him.

He doesn’t say anything to that. He closes his eyes, a soft chuckle emanating from him as he processes the rejection. In his mind, that smart, logical mind of his, he knew you wouldn’t say it back. Why would you? Even if it was true, it’s too messy. It’s a disaster waiting to happen, you both know it, so why would you say it back? But then again, why would you ask his feelings in the first place? His heart is screaming at him with every aggressive beat against his ribcage. It’s telling him, despite the logic working overtime in his brain, that you love him too.

“Do you love me?” he wonders, finally allowing his head to roll to the side again so that you’re making eye contact once more.

And you’re silent. You can see in his eyes that he’s pleading with you to reciprocate his feelings. To verbalise them. He wants you to mean it, though. He’d rather you not say a word than lie to him.

But, he knows you.

He knows your mind body and soul and he truly believes that you feel the same way about him. So tell him, won’t you? Lay your heart bare and just tell him the truth. No matter what the world throws at you, he’s certain you can handle it, together. Whatever concerns you have, he’ll protect you. Any repercussions you think will follow you from following your heart, he won’t allow. He’ll do anything for you. Anything to be with you. So look into his emerald eyes and be honest with him.

Be honest with yourself.

“Please,” you start, “please never ask me that again.”

The words cut like a knife. Or rather, he feels like he stopped existing the moment you finish your sentence. It’s like being in a car accident and dying on impact. He looks up at the ceiling again, closing his eyes, knowing the tears are soon to pour from them if he doesn’t get a grip.

Why would you say that?

You still haven’t given a clear answer. And really, he knows why you said what you did. It’s self-preservation. Maybe you think you’re protecting him, too. But you aren’t. You’re the reason his heart beats and this is the reason that it will stop. Every moment from now will be agony. Without an answer, you’ve given him one. And he despises you, now. He thinks you’re selfish.

He thinks you’re a fucking coward.

“Then… what is this?” he wonders, still not daring to widen his eyes and give you the satisfaction of seeing him cry. You can barely stand to look at him now though. Not when he’s being like this. You don’t want to hurt him, truly. But there’s no use in giving him hope that isn’t there. This is for the best, you’re sure. “Have you just been using me for the last two years? When you’re… fucking lonely.” his own breath hitches and he wants to disappear. From your line of sight, from the room, from the fucking planet.

“It’s not like that, Rin.” you sigh, and it’s almost breathless as you try and conjure the right words to alleviate his pain. There’s nothing you can say that won’t hurt. The damage is done. You’ve broken him. “You know the first time was a mistake… and then it just kept happening… and then—”

“And then you—” he balls up his fists until his arms begin to tremble. But he takes a breath, anger leaving him as he exhales. He’s always been good at that. He always knows when he’s getting too worked up and knows how to take it down a notch and compose himself. He’s calculated with everything he does. But he supposes you’re the exception. There was nothing calculated in regard to you. He fell into this fucking mess with you, because it’s you. “… Don’t you think the fact we’ve been making the same ‘mistake’ for so long means it might not be a mistake.” he talks, quietly. You can’t tell if he’s asking you a question or simply speaking words for you to hear.

You don’t answer. What can you say? You can’t contradict yourself now. It’s a valid point, of course. Is a repeated mistake truly a mistake? Maybe you and he are made for each other. Being with him could be easy, if you wanted. Being honest with yourselves and those around you might be easier than you think. Being able to hold his hand and go out on dates like a normal couple. Could it really be so simple?

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” you respond, bluntly. It’s harsh. The words make your mouth swell with discomfort and a horrendous desire to burst into tears. Nothing else will get through to him, you think. Being nice is getting neither of you anywhere. You gulp, and it’s like swallowing razor blades as you see how fucking shattered his face becomes.

He scoffs, a little, and sits upright in bed. You chase him, somewhat, sitting upright beside him and placing your hand on his shoulder. And you gasp, quietly, as he shrugs away from your touch. Your defeated hands fall into your lap as you continue to sit beside him, your eyes alternate from looking at his side profile to your twiddling thumbs.

Rejection was always bound to come eventually. He wishes he never opened his mouth, though. The delusion could have carried on a little while longer. Why did you have to ask if he loved you? You surely knew already. His mind roars at him to run. He’s staring at his sneakers placed meticulously by his wardrobe as he thinks about where he could go. Anywhere away from here.

Away from you.

But the child in him… is resilient. He’s never been one to accept true defeat. He’s never been the type to give up on his dreams or quit when he truly believes there is a chance at happiness for him. You see his hand move to his obscured cheek, and you’re sure he’s wiping away a tear.

It’s all but confirmed when he looks at you. Teal eyes almost illuminate the room as they look at you. Crystalline droplets reside in his lashline, and his eyes keep shimmering as they take in every solitary detail of your beguiling face. He can’t lose you. You’re perfect for him.

And he loves you.

He leans towards you, and you don’t fight it. Your lips slotting beautifully against one another as you melt into his kiss. It’s prolonged and it’s deep. You feel as though he’s giving you everything he has. Everything he is as a final farewell. The thought of never seeing him again makes you break away, panting desperately before you comb his hair out of his face.

“What are you doing, Rin?” you whisper.

This time you’re left without an answer. He grips his fingers into your soft hips and helps you move above him, straddling him so that he can look up into the eyes of the woman he loves more than he ever has or will love anyone.

“Play with my hair, please.” he whispers back against your bare skin as he lifts your tank top to expose your breasts. You do as he asks, combing your fingers through his hair again as he sweetly kisses your erect nipples. The only sound filling the room is his puckered kisses and your laboured breaths.

You hum, intoxicated, as kisses turn to suckles. They’re soft and careful, your skin breaks out in bumps as your flesh tries to huddle together to keep in the warmth. Your heart skips a beat when he looks up at you, briefly, before focusing on your tits again. He wraps his arms tightly around your torso in a bid to pull you closer. Your cotton-clad mound humping against his straining cock in the process.

He grunts against your skin when he feels the wetness pooling on your panties transferring to his boxers. One of his hand roams to squeeze the fat of your ass, a squeaking yelp escapes you as you feel thick bruising fingers dig into your supple flesh. He gentle nibbles your swollen tits, eliciting a mewl from you that speaks to your infatuation with him. Whether you care to admit it or not, he knows your body enough to understand the truth.

“Rin,” you shudder, throwing your head back in an attempt to gain some distance from what is happening and retrieve your thoughts. He doesn’t stop, though. But his eyes meet yours again when you return. He’s listening. He’s clinging to your every thought. “I-Is this really what you want?” you ask him. And he nods, slowly, relinquishing one nipple from his mouth with a pop and licking his cherry bitten lips.

 “’m not a mistake, baby…” he tells you in hushed tones before sucking your neglected nipple momentarily. He means it, too. You don’t think he’s a mistake. In truth, you think the world of Rin Itoshi. You wish you met at a different time. Things could be how you both want them to be. But this is how things are. You feel tears you hadn’t given permission begin to roll down your cheeks as you think about how lowly he views himself because of you. You are a fucking coward, you always have been. “I can be right for you, princess. I can.”

You hear him sniff a little before he continues making out with your aching tits. And you push his hair out of his face again, getting a perfect view of his lusciously long eyelashes. You can’t see his pretty green eyes from this angle, they’re focused intently on your chest. But his eyes snap to your when he hears you sniffling too.

“Rin… I-Is this—?”

“Do you want to do that thing you like?” he asks, breath fanning over your spit soaked tits as he snaps you from your thoughts. He encourages you to move a little as he hooks his fingers into your panties and tries to pull them down your legs. It’s clumsy, and it makes you laugh as you shuffle around awkwardly until they’re off. And he throws them across the room before your lips crash together again.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you kiss him. He swallows your moans like they’re holy and he’s fucking greedy. He manages to snake his hand between your bodies to free his length. And your vision strays to see it. His gorgeous, pretty cock. It’s beautiful and pink, though the darkness of the room hides it well. You know it from memory by now. But you can’t mistake the drooling precum leaking from his slit and down his shaft as he strokes his length at a steady pace while he kisses you again.

But you break it once more.

“You like it… you like it, too.” you smile, thinking back to what he’d asked you moments ago. He smirks against your lips, kissing you again before looking down at his length as he attempts to guide it into your heat.

“That’s right.” he nods, licking his lips. “’n it feels the best when you ride me… so sit on it.” he commands. He clenches his teeth as his tip sits comfortably in your sticky interior. You’re so tight and wrap around him so heavenly. As though you’re made solely for him. In his mind, though, that’s exactly what you are. He hisses, eagerly, as he feels the conflicting constrict of your cunt tightening and releasing repeatedly as he remains there. It’s like you aren’t sure if you’re trying to suck him in further or push him out completely.

His fingers curl around your dainty wrist, guiding your hand to his neck and encouraging you to squeeze. You do, softly, and you can’t help but smile when he laughs breathily.

“Sit on it, princess. S’all yours.”

The squeeze becomes tighter as you slowly sink on his length. Your jaw drops willingly as you moan through the stretch. And Rin, God, he’s fucking beautiful. His eyes roll over white as your pussy envelops him until you feel his pretty tip nudge your g-spot. You kiss his cheek. Again, and again and again until his vision returns to you.

He likes it. No, he loves it. But only because it’s you. He’s been with plenty of women, but he’s never been in love. He’s had feelings for partners, but never love. He can’t imagine letting any of them choke him the way you do. It makes him heady, but only because it’s you. The first time you did it he wanted to protest, to tell you in no uncertain terms that he isn’t interested in that kind of thing. But the word no could barely escape his lips before he came inside you after you squeezed the sides of his neck oh so deliciously.

“F-uck, Rinnie…” you moan as you start to rock your hips against him. His hands gently hold your waist and help you in your efforts, your breath catching in your throat as your clit catches against his pubis and trimmed hairs. “You’re s-so deep. Feel you h-here…” you point to your lower abdomen as you carry on rocking against him, your grip on his neck easing as you feel pleasure begin to surge through your nervous system.

He's speechless, though. He knows he’s big and doesn’t feel a need to reiterate it. Instead, he pushes his palm flat against your tummy as you continue to get yourself off. You moan, louder. Drool forming in the corner of your mouth as you keep going and going until your legs begin to give. And he pities you, he does. So much so that he holds your hips tightly and helps you rise and fall on the full length of his cock again and again.

Each impale is rapturous. The pleasure is fucking blinding as his heavy tip slams repeatedly against your sensitive soft insides and you mewl blaringly, no care or consideration for neighbours that might be trying to get a full eight hours before that dreaded sunrise approaches any minute now. You can’t possibly care, not when a cock so perfectly made to mould the shape and ridges of your pussy to suit it’s domineering size is ruining you so divinely.

“Don’t stop.” he reminds you, his hand covering and squeezing your own around his willing neck, encouraging you to persevere. The way your clutching fingers hug the column of his throat is beauty personified. Like a scene from a renaissance painting before your very eyes. And his eyes are blown to hell, full of lust, “harder.” he smirks, greedily. And you always do as you’re told. You want to be good for him after being so cruel. You want to please him after being so cold. You want to love him after being so harsh.

“I—” you start, your words becoming trapped in your throat as your cowardice springs to the forefront of your mind. Though, is it really cowardice? Or is it just the right decision for both of you? For peace of mind and an easy life, it is.

“Yeah?” his eyes practically glitter in expectation as he awaits your sentence to be brought to completion. You are cruel, cold and harsh. Because you’ve gotten his hopes up yet again. And you can’t have that, you just can’t.

“I’m, c-close…” you alert him. His eyes widen in surprise. It hasn’t been so long since you started. Are you lying? He can usually tell. He studies your face and feels the way your cunt constricts around his length as you draw near your demise. You’re honest, only sometimes.

“N-N.. uh… can you hold it? F-For me, princess?” he asks, pleads, really, if his watery eyes are anything to go by. You aren’t sure you can, but you nod anyway. You’ll try your damndest, for him, anything for him.

He manoeuvres you carefully onto your back so you’re lying beneath him. You remain wrapped around him the entire time, like he can’t bear to be apart from you for even a second. You can’t blame him, either, you don’t want to remember what life feels like without him snug inside of your welcoming cunt.

His eyes roam your body as he cages you in below him. Emerald jewels taking in each and every inch of your perfectly bare skin. Every detail, every crevice and pore. It’s all so beautiful to him, and hasn’t become a boring sight to behold in the entire two years you’ve been doing this.

Both of your hands cradle his head, fingers interlocking through the back of his hair. He looks into your eyes and you can’t help but smile. This is how your life should be. When you see how much love pours from his eyes as he looks at you, you know this is how things are meant to be. But it’s a shame, they aren’t. You feel your heart break in two as reality crashes around you once again. But he leans down to kiss you, silently asking your permission to keep going.

“Please, Rin.” you nod.

“Okay, I’ve got you.” he kisses your neck as he begins to shallowly thrust into you again. You mewl softly as you feel him suckle the skin covering your clavicle, and it’s sure to bruise, but you don’t care. You’re sick of caring, now. You just want to feel this. Enjoy this moment. You want to enjoy Rin.

He pushes your thighs gently, spurring you to wrap your legs around his hips in a bid for you to hug him tightly. You hook your feet against one another, and you feel like a koala clinging onto a tree. You don’t mind though. You feel safe, like this. A safety you’ve never felt from anyone at any time. He’ll keep you safe, always, because he loves you. All he wants in this moment is for you to feel good and for him to be the reason. You cock your head, curiously. And he wastes no time satiating your lust with a kiss.

Your moans feel suffocating as your throat swells with the desperate need to share them with him. But you can’t. Not when he’s pressing his lips to yours and trying to inhale your every breath and any other offering you can muster for him. He can’t let you go for even a second, he thinks. This is all he has. He needs to remember.

He looks upset when you turn your head to break the kiss, but his thrusting doesn’t cease. They slow, however. Opting to fuck you deeper. He wants to explore depths in your cute cunt that neither of you know even existed.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, voice quiet but laced with concern. It’s hard to even think as his thrusts seem to be whisking your brain into a pink mushy paste.

“I can’t—” you pant, “hold it… m-much longer!” you warn him.

“Oh.” he chuckles, and burrows his head into the crook of your neck. He kisses. Sucks. Makes it known that you’ve been with him. A final bid to make you his, though it will surely amount to nothing. “That’s okay, let go, baby…” he tells you.

You bite your lip. A momentary gesture before you find your pleasure crescendo from his faithful pace. He kisses sweetly along your jawline, humping into you hard enough that there is a steady slapping resounding through the bedroom. You note how the sun seems to rise and birds begin to chirp as you topple over the edge of your orgasm.

He could bathe in your sweet moans for the rest of his life, he thinks. They seem to harmonise with the birds singing outside. Your fingers dig and claw into his shoulder blades as you don’t let up. It’s all so tantalizing, a song he’d happily play on repeat for the rest of his miserable life if he could.

You clamp around him and feel a swell of pride in your chest as you hear him moan for you, too. Your cunt floods with warmth and you’ve never felt so wanted. Part of him wishes you weren’t on birth control. Part of him wishes that it would fail so that there’s a reason he can truly make you his. But he knows he isn’t that lucky. And he knows it’s wrong to want those things, too. He doesn’t even want a kid, really.

He just wants a reason to keep you.

Your chest heaves as he collapses on top of you, hugging you closely. You fear that your sweaty bodies may meld together permanently, until the breeze from the open window rolls in. Cooling your dampened skin slowly but surely. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, though. Being stuck to him. There’s always fantastical ideas conjured from absurd imaginations that give you cause to be together. It’s the only way, you think.

It can’t be as simple as you want to be together.

You can’t just love each other so much you can be together.

You need a reason.

A very good fucking reason.

“Are we going to be okay, Rinnie? Things haven’t changed, right?” you ask him, almost scared to speak but not enough to stop the flow of your words. You feel his body tense up, and at that point you know things have indeed changed. But change can be good… you might just be delusional, though.

“I’m going to shower.” he says, coldly, peeling his body from yours. And it stings. He couldn’t give you an answer, and you know that translates to him only having an answer you won’t like. He’s cruel, mostly, but never with you. With other people he can be rude and mean. But he’d rather be silent than do that to you. And it hurts. Fuck, it hurts. It’s all such a mess and everything is fucking ruined. “… are you coming?” he asks, looking back at you as he heads towards the bathroom.

And there it is.

The flame of hope he can never truly let die when it comes to you.

Your eyes flicker open, the room fully bathed in the light of the mid-morning sun. Rin is sitting at the edge of his bed. Legs covered by grey joggers and his torso bare. The shadows and light contrasting each other and painting an alluring portrait of toned musculature across his back. He shields it from you, though, as he pulls a t-shirt over his head.

He stands up, collecting the towel he dropped on the floor as he got changed. And that’s when he sees you’re finally awake again. He curses himself when he smiles at you, still unable to believe how easily you can make him do so.

“How was your nap?” he asks, calmly, tossing the towel expertly into his laundry bin.

“I don’t even remember falling asleep…” you admit.

Though you do remember cuddling into his side after your shower. Your towel is loose around your body, the one wrapped around your hair is crumpled up atop your pillows. He didn’t sleep a wink, he savoured the feeling of you clinging onto him like you might actually love him. But his mind was also plagued by the future. About what happens next. He doesn’t get nervous, usually. But now, as he looks at you in your most natural form, he’s legitimately scared. Scared of everything crashing down around him.

“I… your clothes.” he tilts his head, gesturing to the folded clothes on your bedside cabinet. You thank him, quickly, dropping your towel and hurriedly getting into your jeans and tank top you wore over here in the middle of the night. “I want to be with you, properly.” Rin confesses, focusing intently on his hands before daring to look up to you. Your expression is sullen, unsure of how to respond. You hadn’t expected to hear him say something so bold, not after what you said to him earlier. But you suppose he’s had time to think.

“I just don’t know what you want me to say, Rin.” you sigh, shaking your fingers through your still damp hair. Little droplets flying to the wood floor below.

“I want you to tell the truth… I know you love me. I know you’re just scared. I know you want to be with me, too. I don’t get why you’re doing this. I don’t know why you’re punishing yourself… or me.” he approaches you, walking around the bottom of the bed and grabbing your shoulders with fervour as he wills you to be honest for the first time in your life.

“No.” you shake your head and move away from him. “It isn’t right, you know it isn’t.”

“It’s not right? I’ve loved you for two years and you’re telling me that’s wrong? And I know you feel the fucking same, so please, please baby—”

“I have to go, I can’t do this.” you feel fresh tears roll down your face as you begin to search for your purse. You feel like your fucking heart is going to explode. And he doesn’t bother hiding his upset, either. Because he’s made up his mind.

“This was goodbye, then.” he informs you, and your movements halt as you look at him.

“What?”

“I’m not being this… joke. I’m not going to be your shoulder to cry on when you’re lonely. I’m not going to fuck you, you can’t just come here when you feel like it. I’m done, I can’t do it.” he takes a deep breath as he finishes, knowing that this is really over. It’s killing him. “I love you, and it hurts. This really hurts. But you’re not the girl I thought you were. I thought you were kind and I know you love me too and that’s why it’s fucking— I feel like I’m dying. I don’t get why you’re denying yourself of this.”

You sigh, slipping your feet into your white slides and trying to fight back tears. He thinks everything is so simple. He thinks you can both just live a fairy tale life and be happy, but that isn’t realistic. He isn’t being realistic and maybe that’s your fault. You thought you’d been clear about what this is between you. You hadn’t intended to make him feel used. You didn’t want to hurt him and you didn’t want things to end like this.

“Okay.” you shrug, fingers grasping the door handle as you prepare to leave.

“What’s so fucking special about Sae?” he sobs, quietly. You can’t bear to look at him. Your heart is already breaking and you know looking at his defeated face will give your vital organ cause to split into quarters. “As kids, he was always better at football. He’s older, he’s the favourite. But he doesn’t even treat you right, he doesn’t love you. I do, I love you so what’s so special about him, princess?” he drops his weight onto the bed below, sitting on the edge again as he wills you to face him. His stomach ravaged by butterflies as he waits for an answer. Any kind of answer that will give him some clarity.

“Nothing’s special about him, Rin…” you sigh, again, giving into his desire and offering him the eye contact he craved. “I just met him two years and a few days before I met you.” you sniffle loudly before hurrying out of the door, slamming it behind you unintentionally as you run to the elevator.

He lets his head fall into his hands as he begins to bawl. The knowledge finally setting in that this is really the end of this chapter of his life. The story of you and him is complete and the ending is fucking devastating. He rests his head against the wet pillows you’d left in such a hurry. The scent of your lotions and perfume still clinging to them. And he cries more, covering his face entirely with his hands.

He’ll always lose to Sae, that much is clear.

If only he’d met you first.

© 2023 rinitxshi

[luchitohamilton]

lewis post-race interview for canal+ at the saudi arabian gp '24

about congratulating oliver bearman after the race it’s not a british thing, it's just the respect between drivers. and i remember what is like when i first got in F1, you know, i didn't particularly feel welcomed by people and so i wanted to make sure that i acknowledged him ‘cuz that is a fantastic effort to demonstrate, finishing this race, considering the circumstances just shifted, so it's a true show of a good driver. about doriane pin getting penalized after the f1 academy race 2 that’s ridiculous. ah, that’s disappointing. i'm sad to hear that because she’s done such an amazing job this past weekend, such a great talent. and sometimes you come by the straight and you don’t see the damn flag, you know, you’re so focused. and she didn't put anybody in harms way. i don't think it was worth a penalty. but she will bounce back from this. she’s been doing an absolutely fantastic job. i’m happy for her.

[cameron-s-gaskins]

It's 1980. The night before a big rain storm. The night before Sam's car skids into the canal. ...Except Sam opens a fob watch. A fan comic.

Chapter 2 will take place in 2007, after the 'death' of Harold Saxon.

So, this is just a fun little project I decided to do in my spare time :) It's not Ashes to Ashes complaisant, I'll admit that way way way back when Ashes first started airing, I was pretty salty about the explanation that Sam died in a car accident. I know how that show ended, and what they decided to go with, but I'm still just ignoring it all together. I guess this could be a 'fix it,' I'm not sure. Just suspend your disbelief. I'm going to estimate that chapter 2 will take about two months to finish, depending on my real life work load, but the script is already written.