#but then it took so long…. and I’m like.. 1 I might have lost the drive. and 2 I’m so fucking late to the party ghgh

[pepperpixel]

Scott pilgrim art dump!!!! I started working on these like a fucking month ago and just have not been able to finish them cuz life has been so fucking busy… but I FINALLY! I finally managed to finish them now!!! So behold!!!!!! My blorbos! My favs…. I rlly enjoyed every scene w these 3 they were adorable and awesome and cool…. I hope u guys enjoy my art of them even if it is super freaking late ghgh

[caterpillarinacave]

You wake in the morning your mind made up, there's no point in rushing headlong into these things, you'll stick around where there are free accommodations, at least for a little while, in the meantime you can search the area more and develop a better understanding of your situation, you head to the bathroom to clean up, when you go to untangle your hair you notice the blue from before has disappeared, you pick up the brush from the store and separate out a small amount of hair and run the brush through, it turns blue, you see that the brush is still clean but if you want to brush with it you will end up with a head of colorful hair, interesting, you set aside the brush and go back to cleaning yourself up before heading out to the main place to find the others and let them know of your decision to stay for a while, the older one seems pleased, they get you some spare clothes and finish setting up your space with things to fulfill your basic needs.

Your decision to stay turns from days to weeks to months, at this point you've learned the basics of the language around you, some simple words can be read, and a lot of the mannerisms have become much more familiar, the chirps, you've come to find, are verbal punctuation marks, depending on the chirp they literally vocalize "!!!" or "?", it's pretty cool. Additionally you've developed a deeper and friendlier relationship with both of the homes occupants, the younger one becomes more amicable as you take on some of the chores around the farm, which is what you have come to understand their home is, though the crops and animals are different and the farm methods aren't what you remember from your world, in any case, you help where you can, sometimes you go into town with the others and help with the shopping or other errands, the town is friendly, the area is nice, you've noticed the seasons do change similar to how they would in your world and the autumn turns to winter and leads to spring, though the people here split their seasons into seven distinct sections and their separation of time, like years and months or even days, are confusing, so you don't pay it too much mind, you find that despite wrapping yourself in the clothes and culture of these people you continue to remain yourself, no alterations afflict you, though it has only been some time, you don't think the world changing you physically is a huge thing to worry over anymore, you still check the number of fingers and toes you have each morning anyway, better safe than sorry or at least caught unawares.

You've kept an eye out for any sign of the mentioned key or any other way home, but nothing comes up, even when you manage to ask the older person what they meant before, they admit they really only know what the person who passed through told them, in order to go back to a world when the door closed you needed a key that opened the other side of the door, the person before you had searched this world a long time for that key, but when nothing ever came of it they moved on, before that though they had stayed here which is where the older one had learned some of your language and of your situation.

It's some time in the Spring like season several months in that you are hit with a cleaning bug, the other two went into town earlier so you get to work, while you had already searched the house before for anything that might hint at how you should proceed, you never found anything and the inhabitants themselves had been more useful and you quit looking eventually, imagine your surprise then when you stumble across a journal under a bookcase written in a language you can read, you pause your cleaning immediately and as you consume the book you learn that this was left behind by the person who had come before you, the journal is dated ten years ago and has entries detailing the events of their journey here as well as long discussions on their theories and observations of it all, from the book you learn several valuable pieces of information: there are multiple doorways on this world but they all seem to lead to the same next world although not the exact same place as far as they can tell, the next world is largely unknown but from what they can tell is safe enough in that you can breathe the air, in this world there is a secret organization, or perhaps cult, that studies these doorways but the author is not particularly impressed with them for some unspecified reason, the doors close automatically and cannot be kept open by any means, no going back without the Backwards Key or more specifically the black side key unless someone else opens the door from the other side, interestingly anything that passes through the door has a chance of developing a magic of its own which the writer is confused by (they brought over a bottle that now never runs out of water and a bag that replicates whatever gets put in it, the science behind this is discussed in depth for many pages but just gets chalked up to magic), they think that the doors open to alternate universes rather than across space to other planets but they aren't sure, the plan they chose to follow was to start going forwards through the doors and hunting for one of the keys to the black side then head back and go home, you don't think the plan panned out, this journal has given you more information to work with and much to think about but ultimately still leaves you with not much in the way of choices.

This set up is peaceful, the longer you stay the more parallels you find with your own world and despite missing loved ones from your old life the stability of this new one has begun to lull you into a sense of security, going forward could mean starting over, seeking out the secret organization could spell trouble, just travelling further than this town on your own would certainly be a hassle, staying here and continuing to learn about this world offers an opportunity of safety but you definitely don't see a future in which you reach home this way, do you choose to continue living as you have been?

No

[simplyholl]

The Villain’s Weapon Pt. 1

Summary: When you hit your head and lose your memory, you fall into Loki’s clutches.

Warnings: Eventual smut. Memory loss. Villain Loki. Thanos.

The battle was never ending. You and the other Avengers were never going to defeat Loki. He had taken Clint and Dr. Selvig using them against you as he took the Tesseract. It didn’t help that he would only show up every now and then to taunt the team. Otherwise you couldn’t locate him.

Loki fought against you. “We have to stop meeting like this, little one.” Loki teased. You used your magic, a cloud of blue surrounding you as you fought back. You underestimated the power you put behind it, the aftershock throwing you back against a boulder. You hit your head with a loud thud as your vision went black.

When you came to, a large man towered over you. You studied his face trying to place him. You couldn’t remember where you were or what you were doing outside. You didn’t even know who you are. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you, little one.” Little one. That was familiar. You obviously knew this strangely dressed man. You look down at your own apparel. You were wearing a leather catsuit, so you couldn’t say anything about him.

You hear fighting all around you. You sit up, suddenly scared of your surroundings. What was happening? Pain surges through your head, you place a hand on it. You were bleeding. Your suit was torn like you had been fighting too. You stand up, feeling a little dizzy. You grab the man before you, pulling him in for a hug. You don’t know why, but you trust him.

He said he was looking for you after all. The term of endearment he used rang a bell. If you were fighting, you must be on his side. He looks down at you like you have lost your mind. Maybe you haven’t hugged before and this was out of character for you. You quickly pull away.

“I’m so sorry. I think I must have hit my head too hard. I can’t remember anything. But you seem familiar. You said you were looking for me, so I just assumed.” He looks at you incredulously. “You really don’t remember who you are or what you are doing out here?” You look around again, not recognizing anyone or anything, but him.

“There seems to be a battle. I assume I’m on your side?” You look into his bright blue eyes as a smile appears on his lips. “Yes, that is correct. Those people over there are the Avengers. They are trying to stop me - erm - us. I’ll tell you more about it once we get back to our lair.”

Loki couldn’t believe his luck. He was waiting for you to come to after the nasty fall you had taken when your magic threw you back. You were powerful, but you didn’t have complete control over your power. With his help, you would be unstoppable. And now, you were on his side.

“She’s dangerous.” Thanos told Loki. “Right now, she isn’t. She doesn’t even know she has powers.” Loki argued. “This is perfect. I will train her, we will use her to fight the Avengers.” Thanos shook his head. “What if her memory comes back? It’s too big of a risk.” Loki paces the floor, “Trust me, she won’t. She took a nasty fall. Just let me try this out before we send the Chitauri.” “You have two months.” Thanos stated as he cut communication.

Loki set up a room for you. He conjured clothes for your closet, shoes in your size, everything you might need in order to convince you that you actually lived here. He found you on the bed, looking out the window. “I’ve come to dress your wounds.” You nod, turning toward him. He examined the cut on your head, green flowing from his hands as he healed it. He explained that he could use magic and apparently so could you. He was going to start retraining you tomorrow.

“The other cuts aren’t as severe so I will clean them myself.” He explained. You slid the strap of your tank top down your shoulder to give him better access to the wound. You gasp when the alcohol wipe touches your skin, causing the area to sting. You watch him intently, long pale fingers working diligently to patch every scratch on you.

“Lay back.” He commands, reaching for the hem of your tank top. You had a large cut just under your breasts. You do as your told, he rolls the fabric up just under your nipples. You hold your breath. Your skin prickles, turning into goosebumps everywhere he touches. Your nipples harden as he patches you up.

Loki notices how you are physically reacting to his touch. How your nipples hardened when he placed his hands on your stomach. How your breath hitched when he pulled your shirt up. The worst part was he could feel his pants growing tighter. He wasn’t surprised that you had that kind of reaction toward him. He was a god after all. But he never expected you to have that effect on him. His hands grew shaky as he finished bandaging you. “Good as new.” He murmured, yanking your shirt down to cover you.

“Loki?” He stopped his retreat from your room, freezing in your doorway. “Thank you for everything. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” You get off the bed, walking toward him, pulling him in for another embrace. He reluctantly pulls you closer to him. You can tell he isn’t a hugger. His large hand smooths the back of your hair. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I was there too.” You bury your face into his chest, breathing him in. He looks down at you, expression unreadable. This is going to be a long two months.

Part Two

Tags

@fictive-sl0th @lokisgoodgirl @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @cindylynn @cakesandtom @eleniblue @marygoddessofmischief @coldnique @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @lokisninerealms @wheredafandomat @peaches1958 @freegardenbanananeck @chantsdemarins @lokidokieokie @l0ki3000 @anukulee @multifandom-worlds @alexakeyloveloki @ladymischief11 @kats72 @mischief2sarawr @lamentis-10 @loz-3 @litaloni @lulubelle814 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @avengersfan25 @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @xorpsbane @mybugabomlb @bunny24sstuff @luthien-elvenia-asher @gruftiela @itsybitchylittlewitchy

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Shades of Grey || CL16 {1}

Summary: You may be the newest F1 driver for Williams but you have known Charles since your karting years. Being rival drivers never changed the fact he was your friend and would always look out for you, on and off the track. The only problem was you wished you could be more than friends. Warnings: 18+ only, reader injuries, angst. Word Count: 2k

F1 Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Spotify Playlist

Adrenaline was always running through your veins the night before a race. It was the same explosive mix of brimming excitement laced with a hint of fear. So when the track was closed and the flood lights went dark you would quietly leave your motorhome and walk the grid. 

The silence was peaceful in a way that couldn’t be found at any other time. 3am was like a parallel universe where all the distractions and worries were lost to the stars above. You were in a world of your own.

“You should be sleeping,” Charles said as he looked down where you lay under the starting lights. 

You hadn’t even heard his footsteps approaching as you imagined the track, your fingers twitching with the memory of its banks and turns. Though it was cold asphalt beneath you, it was the memory of the moulded seat that you felt against your thin clothes. 

As the first and only female driver there was a pressure that the other drivers would never feel. You had to fight for not just your position but for all the future female drivers who aspired to race in Formula One. If you didn’t meet the expectations then it wasn’t just your future at stake and you felt the weight of that every time you sat in the car. It drove you to push harder and test the limits of the car, it drove you to practise more than the other drivers. 

You were pulled from your thoughts and looked up the length of his body. You took in everything from the loose grey sweatpants to the plain white t-shirt and then to the eyes that had been witness to your greatest and worst moments. 

“Lie down,” you said as you patted the cold ground beside you. “It’ll be like old times.”

“We’ve come a long way since F3.” Despite the words, he laid down beside you and you laced your hand with his. He had always let you take comfort in the touch since he knew how nervous you got, even after years of racing. Those nerves had only increased after your recent debut into Formula One. 

“Does it get easier?” you asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the silence of the night. 

You looked across at him, the moonlight illuminating his eyes that seemed torn between wanting to calm you and wanting to be honest. “It doesn’t get harder.”

You lost yourself in his eyes and remembered dreaming of a time when you thought the friendship might be more. That dream had slipped away as his career took off and yours remained the same. Your paths had no longer crossed often but you had still tried to keep in touch despite the newfound distance. If friendship was all you could have then you would take it if the alternative was having nothing. But you would always ask yourself ‘what if’.

“You’ll catch a cold lying down here all night,” Charles said, cleaving through the moment and shaking you from your daydream. “Vamos.” You groaned but let him pull you to your feet and he slung his arm over your shoulders. “Can’t have you anything but your best for tomorrow.”

“Maybe it will be the day I finally beat you.”

Charles chuckled. “Would I still have to be your slave for a week?”

You laughed at the reminder of the challenge that had been set years ago and shook your head. “I wouldn’t know what to do with you for a whole week.”

He looked down the corner of his eye at you and his lips twitched up. “I’m sure you’d think of something.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the deepening in his tone and the way he swallowed afterwards like the words were thick with meaning. Were you reading too far into it? Was it just hope leading you to misunderstand the innocent statement? 

You would never be brave enough to ask him and risk making a fool of yourself, so you parted ways when you reached your motorhome. 

“Goodnight, Charles,” you murmured as you reached the first step and turned, the added height leaving you eye to eye.

He leaned in slowly and you froze as his cologne infused with the air you breathed before his warm lips pressed softly to your cheek. “Goodnight, Y/N. Sweet dreams.”

You hated starting towards the back of the grid but there was only so much you could do with a car that didn’t have a big budget like some of the other teams. Still, Williams had given you an opportunity no other team had so you would make the best of it. 

The first light turned red and you began your starting sequence. At lights out the world faded away. There was no one and nothing but four wheels and the track. 

Accelerate, brake, turn, repeat.

Your pace was strong but it wasn’t enough and though you overtook a McLaren, an AlphaTauri and a Hass, the leaders were coming from behind to lap you. You kept aside on the straights, letting Max, Lewis and Checo overtake with their DRS that you couldn’t match and then a familiar red Ferrari appeared in your mirrors. 

The last straight of the lap was coming to an end but Charles moved to take the outside and you spared a glance as he passed. You swore he looked right back at you despite the concentration he needed to keep on the tight corner he was entering. 

It all happened so quickly but on the contrary time seemed to slow down. 

You turned your steering wheel into the corner and felt the tension pop as the entire console dislodged from the locking system that held it in place. The corner was rapidly closing and you were stuck on a collision course towards the barrier with a console that wouldn’t click back into place. You slammed your foot on the brake and all four wheels locked, tread burning plumes of smoke as the friction melted the rubber.

Charles turned into the corner and you begged the universe to let him pass before you reached him. A shudder rippled through the chassis as your front wing clipped his back tire and a new fear gripped you as he spun back around to face you. For a moment you were face to face and his gloved hand reached above the halo as if he could save you from what was to come. 

You took comfort in that small gesture and crossed your arms over your harness to brace for impact. 

Weightlessness washed over you as the car hit the gravel side on and the right hand tires dug in, the shift in the mass lifting the left hand wheels off the ground. Pain exploded through you as the entire weight of the car slammed down into the gravel and flipped too many times to count. 

Sky. Gravel. Sky. Gravel. Sky. Grass. Sky.

Your radio crackled in your ear as the world stopped spinning and you stared up at the blue sky over Imola. “Are you okay?”

The taste of copper filled your mouth and when you tried to speak only a pained wheeze came out. You couldn’t understand what was happening as the sky turned grey, the sunlight fading before your eyes. 

“Y/N!” 

You could hear Charles screaming over the ringing in your ears but you couldn’t answer him, though you desperately tried to. It was getting harder to breathe through the bubbling in your chest and the little air you could pull was laced with smoke and fumes. 

You looked up at the grey sky again and felt the sudden heat against your back. Not clouds. Smoke. 

You reached for the harness and screamed through the pain of trying to unbuckle them with the ribs that were undoubtedly broken. 

“Let me go!” Charles screamed. “Help her!” 

The heat was unbearable even with the fireproofs and there was a moment where the world seemed to fall silent, like the very air had frozen still. The bubble burst out in a shockwave. White hot light flashed blindingly bright and in an instant the pain was gone. 

The track was empty and the debris had long since been cleared. The only reminder of the horrific crash were the deep gouges in the grass verge and the damaged concrete wall that had stopped you going any further. 

You didn’t belong here. You didn’t belong in this black and white world, this place where all the colour had faded away like a photograph left in the sun. Where you had once seen the world in vibrant blues, lively greens and…Ferrari red, it was all now shades of grey.

Was this the end? Was this how your eternity would be spent, anchored to the last place you remembered?

“Happy Birthday.” A quiet voice broke your revelry and a moment of warmth filled you as he unknowingly stepped through the spot you stood. A shiver went down his spine and the petals of the bouquet he held trembled before he placed them on the scorch marks that stained the concrete wall. 

Your birthday? How much time had passed while you stood rooted to the track?

“I’m sorry it took so long to visit.” He sank to his knees on the grass, not caring about the mud that stained his jeans as he dropped his head in his hands. “I miss you.” 

You wished you could ease his pain but the hand you placed on his shoulder went right through. Arthur’s didn’t though, and you watched as his brother comforted him in a way you no longer could. 

“I miss you too,” you whispered to the wind that picked up down the straight. 

“She was so nervous before the race. What if she felt something was going to go wrong? What if I missed something?”

“Charles, you can’t beat yourself up wondering ‘what if’. It was an accident, and it doesn’t make it any easier to swallow but they happen,” Arthur said as he sat beside his older brother. “You’ve read the report, the steering console malfunctioned.”

“Arthur’s right,” Pierre said as he arrived with his own bouquet of flowers, placing them beside Charles’. “There was nothing anyone could have done.”

Charles sighed with defeat and seemed to shrink in upon himself as he plucked out the black blades of grass. “I could have told her how I felt. I always thought we would have time, I always thought I would have her.”

Your soul shattered at his admission and if you could cry in this state the track would have become an ocean. All those years wasted when if you had just told him how you felt you would have found out he felt the same. 

You would give anything to have that time back.

“You’re talking like she’s dead already,” Pierre snapped and you jerked your head around to him. “There’s still a chance she could wake up.”

Charles scrambled to his feet and the agony in his eyes nearly drove you to your knees. “Shut the fuck up!”

Charles ran his hands through his hair and tugged at the stands until he screamed to the heavens above. Birds erupted from the treelines and took flight at the piercing sound but Pierre just shook his head sadly.

He didn’t want to have hope. He didn’t want to be shattered by it again.

“She’s not Jules, Charles,” Pierre said, flinching when his friend glared at him. “Just go visit her, if anyone can bring her back it’s you.”

Charles turned his back and started to walk away without a goodbye and you took a step without realising it, then another. The invisible anchor that had kept you trapped at the crash site untethered from your feet and you were able to follow Charles. 

He paused beneath the starting line and looked up at the lights you had laid beneath. Gone were the stars that you could wish upon, now only dark grey clouds remained.

“If anyone up there is listening, I could really do with a miracle, or a sign, or anything. Just something. Please.” His voice broke and he wiped his eyes on his sleeve before sniffing and departing the grid.

Click here for part two.

[lostdreamr-blog1]

Pinky Promise 2

Pinky Promise Part 1

Part 3

Summary: Part 2 of Pinky Promise. The two of you become close friends, but one night shows Jake just how much you trust him.

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: Hi friends! It’s been a hot minute since I have put something out but I promise you I have a good reason for it! I just had a baby and haven’t had time to sit down and write. But hoping to put out more content here soon! Thank you all for reading!!! - C

It was an ungodly time in the morning when you heard the doorbell ring. It took more will power than you would like to admit to even sit up in bed, head pounding with the slight elevation change. You wiped the sleep and last night’s makeup from your eyes, most likely smearing streaks of it across your face. And you sat there contemplating all of your life’s choices up to this point.

The doorbell seemed to yell at you, telling you that whoever was on the other side must have been impatient. A quick glance at the clock said it was 8:30 and you had to take a deep breath to not hurt the person who was making you get out of bed.

A few stumbling steps later, you opened the door to find a delivery guy with a bag of food. While you took the bag from him, the confusion was pretty clear. Even the guy who was turning to walk away could see it. “There is a note on the receipt.” And then he was gone.

Between the hangover from hell and very few hours of sleep you got; you were slow moving to get back inside. To anyone walking by you must have looked like you lost your mind with the amount of time you spent looking at the bag. But by some miracle, your legs took you back to bed while your mind was still reeling.

The bag didn’t have any sort of logo or name on it, but it did smell good. You opened it up and reached for the receipt first, trying to find answers.

The tacos I promised you. – Jake

A laugh came out as you put the piece of paper aside, making your way to the things that were making your mouth water. Breakfast tacos greeted you and suddenly being woken up was not a bad thing anymore.

You went to reach for your phone to thank the blond-haired pilot but stopped when you remembered exactly why you now had tacos. Your drunken self called your brothers most hated teammate last night because you didn’t want to get your brother involved. You winced at the thought of him finding out and pulled your hand back.

You dreaded looking at your phone, knowing Bradley most likely had blown it up after last night. So, instead of being a responsible adult who answered for her own actions, you turned your phone over. What you couldn’t see meant it wasn’t there. Denial was one of your favorite places to live in.

Jake seemed friendly enough, offering help whenever you needed. He also wasn’t quick to judge you like others. It wasn’t lost on you that Bradley had most likely told his teammates how “reckless and wild” you were, already painting a bad picture of you. But Jake didn’t make you feel that way. He actually made you think that you might be able to call him a friend, even if he didn’t see eye to eye with your brother.

Jake heard a knock at his door and tried to think who would be here at this time of night. The confusion only grew when he opened his door to find you walking past him and making yourself home on his couch.

“Ever think about how dumb Tuesdays are? Like the only thing they are good for is tacos.” Jake had to blink a few times for his mind to catch up to what was happening.

“I can’t say that I have. Did that burning question drive you all the way over here?” He closed the door and walked to the adjacent couch to sit. He had a feeling this was going to be a long visit.

“I had to thank you in person for the tacos since I’m ignoring my phone.” Jake’s eyebrows rose that comment and pushed you on it. He watched as you played with your hair, giving him a hint at one of your tells. You were either uncomfortable or nervous about your answer and he locked that piece of information away for later.

“Look, my brother can be a bit much sometimes and I didn’t have the energy to deal with him this morning. Then this morning quickly turned into this evening, and I figured it’s a lost cause now.”

Jake bit back a smile, “So, you thought ignoring him was your best option?” He thought back to his conversation with said pilot at work this morning and was surprised when he saw a new side of him.

Bradley at first apologized for “having to deal with you.” But once he realized he didn’t mind making sure you got home safe, he thanked him and said it won’t happened again. Jake brought up his sisters and how he would want to make sure that if they needed help, someone would be there regardless of how good of terms he might or might not be with that person. This seemed to clear the air between them a bit, making work a little easier.

“I know it isn’t exactly my smartest idea, but you can only be called irresponsible so many times before you lose it. Was he mad at you this morning?” Jake shook his head, “Thankful for getting you home. That’s all.” He watched you nod your head but could see you didn’t fully believe him.

“You pinky promise I didn’t make things worse for you at work?” Jake laughed at yet another pinky promise.

“Yes, I pinky promise. Have you eaten dinner? I have leftovers I was about to heat up.” And with that offering, it opened the door to a new friendship.

Jake often found himself answering the door to you, texting you at random hours of the day, and always making sure you made it home safely. The two of you quickly became good friends, making the random house visits become a normal thing. He started to look forward to you coming over, knowing that your carefree way of life would bring him some sort of interesting story.

Until tonight.

The knock on his door was a little later than normal. Typically, you made your way over right after he got home from work. But tonight, it was hours past that time. Jake opened the door expecting you to waltz right in, but instead you were stood rooted in place with your head down. Red flags instantly went up as he tried to figure out what was wrong.

“Hey darlin’. How about we head inside?” His heart dropped when you lifted your head up. A bruise was starting to form around your right eye and by the way you were holding yourself, he knew it was from something bad.

A million different scenarios went through his mind, each worse than the last. But until he could get to the bottom of it, he needed to make sure you were okay. The ever so confident girl he had come to adore was nowhere in sight as he fully took you in. Your arms were wrapped around yourself, almost as if you were trying to be as small as possible. Despite the swelling from the bruise, he could see redness around your eyes from crying.

He moved to the side as you slowly made your way in allowing him to close the door and give you his full attention. “Sweetheart, what happened?” You flinched as he moved his hand towards you, making him stop his motion and put his hand up.

“You know I would never hurt you. I just need to look at that eye.” He waited for you to give some sort of okay before he tried again.

“I had this date and he wanted to go back to his place. All I did was tell him no.” Your words came out as a near whisper, but Jake heard you loud and clear. He had to take a second to calm himself down to not scare you any further.

“Can I give you a hug?” His words surprised you. The two of you were never one to show affection but for him to ask permission before doing it solidified why you chose to come here. A small head nod and he pulled you into his chest.

“I am so sorry you had to go through that. No one should ever have to feel that kind of fear.” And that simple gesture pushed you to your breaking point. The tears started all over again, but this time you felt a sense of comfort as you let them out. He continued to hold you for a few minutes and when he let go, you could see just how much this had affected him too.

He couldn’t help but think about his sisters and what he would do if they were ever in this situation. To have someone hit them simply because they said no made him sick to his stomach. Which is why he knew he needed to let your brother know.

“Sit down on the couch and I’ll grab you some ice to help with the swelling.” You did as he said, and Jake walked into the kitchen to grab a bag of frozen vegetables for you. While he was in there, he sent a quick text to Bradley telling him he needed to come over now. Jake knew he would do it based on the zero interactions they have outside of work. Bradley would know something was wrong.

He walked back out and saw you curled up on the couch, wiping a few tears from your face. When he picked you up from that bar a few weeks ago, he never imagined the two of you would be here. But he was glad to be that person for you.

“Put this on your eye for fifteen minutes and it should help numb the pain a bit.” You took the bag from him and did as he said. “Also, your brother should be on his way.”

The look of panic crossed your face, and he knew there was a chance you didn’t want your brother to know.

“I know you don’t want him to find out, but this is something your brother would want to know. I promise you that.” He watched as you played with the ends of your hair.

“He is going to try and say it’s my fault.” Jake knew the two of you had a bumpy relationship with just how different your lives were. But he didn’t for one second think that your brother would ever blame you for this.

“Let me get one thing straight. This is by no way your fault. A man should never lay his hands on a woman no matter what the reasoning. You said no and he needed to respect that. End of story.”

A knock on the door made you jump, and Jake waited a second before he went to open it. He gave Bradley zero warning on what he was walking into, and you weren’t in the best headspace to begin with. He knew there was a chance this wasn’t going to go well, but your brother couldn’t be left out of this.

Jake opened the door and said, “Try and keep calm.” Bradley walked in and took one look at you and pushed Jake up the wall. “The fuck did you do, Bagman?” Jake knew the initial reaction was going to be rough, but he was hoping he would still be able to fly tomorrow.

You stood up and quickly tried to push your brother away. While he didn’t budge, you at least got his attention. “He didn’t do this. I didn’t know where to go so I came here.”

Bradley looked back to Jake for confirmation and then backed off. He ran a hand through his hair as he looked between the two of you. “Someone needs to start explaining. Now.”

Jake looked over to you to see what you wanted to do. He had no issue telling Bradshaw the whole story, but he didn’t want to step on your toes. You didn’t tell him the two of you were friends for a reason, and he wasn’t sure how much you wanted to explain.

You took a deep breath and tried your best to answer, “Ever since the night Jake gave me a ride home, we’ve been hanging out. He’s been a good friend, one that I probably don’t deserve, but someone I know I can go to. I had a date tonight and it clearly didn’t go well. I was going to go home but I knew it wasn’t the best idea. Here was the next best place.”

Bradley shook his head, “Why here? Why not to my house? You know you can come to me for anything.”

You looked down as you said, “You always say how reckless I am, and I didn’t want this to be another huge disappointment for you.”

You heard Bradley curse under his breath but couldn’t find the courage to look up. Which is why you let out a yelp when he put a hand on your shoulder. “I know I’m hard on you but that’s because you’re the only family I have left. I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t come to me for things. That’s the last thing I ever wanted. But this? This is something I need to know, and I would never say it’s your fault. Something like this shouldn’t have happened and you best believe I am going to kill the guy who did this to you.”

You gave him a small nod and he turned your head to get a better look at your eye. “This is going to be a nasty bruise. Did he get you anywhere else?”

Jake watched in curiosity when your eyes seemed to light up some. “No. I stopped him before he could do anything else. Didn’t hurt as bad this time either.” The two pilots were confused until Jake looked down at your hand to see some slight bruising.

“Looks like you got him good.” Bradley caught on but then asked what you meant by “this time.”

You looked over to Jake for help explaining. “Killer over here has a nasty right hook. Said you taught her how to throw it.”

Bradley slowly nodded his head and almost looked excited when he asked if you used it on Jake. “You wish.” He chuckled some and then looked over to his teammate. “Thanks for looking out for her. Clearly you are doing a better job at it than me.”

Jake smirked, “Just one more thing to add to the list that I’m better at.”

A/N: Thoughts? Still deciding if I am going to add another one of these to the mini-series. Thank you so so much for reading!! - C

Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticcassidy @alldaysdreamers

[yeollie-plz]

Watch It Spark | LTF Part: 2

mbf! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Part 1

Synopsis: Your mom moves the two of you back to Texas and attempts to reignite an old flame. What will happen when she learns his candle now burns for you?

Genre: fluff, angst, and smut! the trifecta!

Warnings: divorced parents, mentions of cheating, no Sarah, no outbreak, drinking, age gap (reader is said to be in college but Joel's exact age isn't stated), Tommy's a bit of a sleaze, kissing, 18+ content, p in v sex, (un)protected sex!, lots of different sexual acts, cursing, light breeding kink mention, cockwarming?

All gif credits to owners!

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I don't wanna make excuses but on top of being super busy, I also had severe writer's block. But! Here she is! Just in time for Pedro's birthday!!!

"Shit." Joel's voice sounded out behind you.

Turning, incredulously to him, "Shit? That's all you have to say?" Not even sure what to say yourself.

"I'm sorry baby, but I don't know what else to say. I think shit actually might be the perfect sentiment in this situation." There's a bit of playfulness laced in his voice as he crosses the room to you. But the fun drops as he locks eyes with you, grabbing your hands while rubbing the backs of them with his thumbs in a comforting gesture.

"Are you okay?"

Not sure what else to do, you nod.

"I mean it was inevitable, I just didn't think she would find out like this. Thought maybe I'd be able to ease her into it...maybe...I don't know."

Joel nods as you speak, “You’ll figure it out and she’ll come around, I’m sure. Whatever happens though, I’m right here.”

When you don’t say anything, Joel uses two fingers lift up your chin so your eyes now meet his. You see the certainty in them and he repeats, “I’m right here.”

With the mood ruined, Joel returned home to let you mull over your plan. It felt weird. How do you explain to your mother that you are currently dating her crush? Not something you had on your bingo card that's for sure.

That night you paced back and forth in your room until about 11 o'clock when you decided you just couldn't take the turmoil anymore. Your mom hadn't returned home. So instead of continuing to sit in your torment, you forced yourself to go to bed.

And when you awoke in the morning, there still was no sign of her. Sighing as you closed the door of her bedroom, you dragged yourself down to the kitchen. Your one last hope was that you could put together some grand breakfast for her and it would somehow lure her home. I mean she had to come home eventually anyway, right? She might as well come home to a yummy breakfast.

So there you were sitting alone at the table with a plethora of food laid out in front of you. Not wanting to eat without her, you sat there waiting. Now, almost an hour later, the food turned cold and the house was still empty. Sighing, you pushed yourself out of your chair, made a quick plate and popped it in the microwave to heat up.

As the time ticked down, you leaned against the counter watching it spin like it would make it go faster. The microwaved beeped to signal its end and that's when the front door swung open.

Abandoning the food once again, you rushed into the living room. Your mom's eyes locked onto you immediately as you crashed into the room. Her body visibly tensed up as she sighed at your presence.

"I-I made you breakfast." You rushed out before she could leave or you lost your nerve.

"Breakfast?" Venom dripped from her voice as she repeated your words.

Snapping your mouth shut, you gulped, trying to think of what to say. That's when she sighed again and closed her eyes, pinching her nose bridge as she tilted her head to the side.

"Sweetie, I'm not mad, but I'm also not happy-"

"-I know you liked him, it's just-" You cut her off, your words coming out quick, laced with your nerves. She held up her hand, to cut you off back.

"Let me talk, because honestly I don't want to hear anything from you right now." Another sigh, this time like she was preparing to give a speech, she was. "You got so hurt last time and with your father and I, I'm just scared for you. Sure, I liked Joel but it was never more than an infatuation. I'm not mad because he was never mine to get mad over. You know the night him and Linda dropped me off?"

You nodded in conformation, she continued, "I actually tried to kiss him that night." She laughs at her own stupidity. "He dodged it, playing it off like nothing happened. I'm sure he just didn't want to embarrass me by blatantly telling me he was in a-" A pause as she looks you up and down, tongue running across her front teeth. "-relationship."

You pulled your lip between your teeth as you listened to her speak. How could she be taking this so well? You were way too used to young people drama. People like your mom and Joel knew how to communicate their feelings. Honestly, it was relieving.

"Kind of weird to admit I almost kissed my daughter's boyfriend." Your mom says with anguish. Her face scrunching up in disgust as if she didn't find him attractive just days before.

She lets herself relish in this thought for a second, before continuing again, "I just hope you are keeping yourself safe. I know I already gave you the responsible talk but this is different. I just don't want to see you hurt like the last time."

You took a second to process her words. She didn't care who you were with, she just cared that you didn't go through what you did before. It warmed your heart and relieved a lot of the pent up stress.

"Mom, this time is different. Joel he, uh, he told me himself. I actually told him what happened." Your mom knew this was big for you to tell someone about the whole cheating thing and when you told her that, she visibly relaxed.

A smile graced her lips as she made her way over to her. She held your cheek in her head. You relaxed into the touch, closing you eyes in relief.

"You're happy with him, I can tell. So like I said I'm not mad. A little sad I missed my chance but there will always be someone else. He's good for you, I'm sure of it."

You smiled at her and leaned in to peck your forehead before wrapping you into her arms and holding you tightly. Her body heat radiating you with all the love only a mother had for her child. She pulled away a bit later, holding you at arms length.

"Although, the age difference is a bit much. That one took me a minute to get over." Laughs laced her voice as she spoke.

"I know, took me a bit to accept the initial attraction too but he's just so..." Your voice trailed off, unsure of what to say. She only smiled to this and nodded.

"I understand, that's how I felt about your father when I met him too." A sad smile now formed as she looked down and you knew she was thinking about how it had turned out for her and him. Now it was your turn to comfort her as you rubbed your hands down her arms.

She shook the thoughts out of her head and sucked back the tears that were pricking her eyes. "Okay! Now, tell me everything. How you guys met! The first date! I want to hear everything."

Letting her drag you to the couch while laughing uncontrollably at her excitement. The rest of the day the two of you could not stop talking as you told her everything.

After hours of chatting, your mom finally called it a night. All but pushing you out the door to go see Joel. Mumbling something about how he must be on the edge of his seat. You giggled at her antics, it was almost unbelievable how quickly she had gotten over it and was now your number one supporter.

So now you found yourself knocking at Joel's door. When he opened it there was a small look of shock on his face.

"Wasn't expecting you to be over so soon, sugar." He said as he pulled you into a quick hug. Breathing in his scent for a second, you sighed, content.

"It went better than expected." Your words were muffled by his chest since you refused to release yourself from his grasp. Not like Joel was complaining.

"Good, I'm glad." He spoke into your hair before placing a soft kiss there. A second more of holding you before Joel is pushing you out to arms length. He searches your face for a second before bringing his lips to yours.

The kiss is slow, like he is learning the feel of them for the first time. It makes you putty in his hands. The stress that somehow was still all pent up inside of you, now finally melting away.

You felt safe. You felt loved. Joel was home for you and in that moment you knew that this was real. Joel was real.

And that night as you settled into his bed and into his arms everything in your past seemed to fade away. It was only you and him.

Smiling into his chest, you fell into a deep slumber.

The morning sun shining through the curtains of Joel's room woke you up. Reaching to the other side of the bed, you find nothing but cold sheets. Confusion washes for you for only a second in your half-awake state, until you hear the steady beat of shower water coming from the connected bathroom.

You take a second to lay in the silence, just listening to the drops of the water. Before an idea pops into your head and you are smirking to yourself.

Pushing off of the bed, you make your way into the bathroom, shredding off pieces of clothes as you go. Joel seems unaware of your presence so you are careful not to scare him too bad as you slide the shower curtain down the rod just enough for you to slip in.

He only jumps a bit as your arms wrap around him. Turning in them to face you.

"Hello." He says to you when his eyes meet yours.

"Hi." You whisper back, pulling him in closer to you, your head now resting on his chest. He lets out a light chuckle while rubbing your back in soothing circles.

To ensure you don't fall, you shift slightly on the wet surface. This causes Joel to let out a soft grunt, his now hardening member brushing against your thigh. It causes you to smirk and pull away, looking up at him.

"I barely hugged you and you're already this excited?" You question.

Something between a chuckle and a grunt passes through his lips, "Not my fault that you came in here all naked. It's human nature, baby." A pause while he drops his head down so his lips can brush your ear, "Remember when I said I wasn't as old as I seemed."

He nips your earlobe after speaking, an action that sends a rush down your spine. Heartbeat speeding up as he continues to breath right next to your sensitive skin, goosebumps popping up despite the warmth of the shower water.

He trails kisses down from your ear, across your chest, and up your neck. One kiss to your jaw, one to each cheek, one to your forehead, before pecking your lips. Pulling away way too soon for your liking as you try and chase his lips with your own.

Now Joel is smirking seeing how desperate you already are for him after making fun of him only moments before. Yet he decides that neither of you really need the teasing so early in the morning so his reserve goes out the window and he's connecting his lips to yours.

The kiss is slower than usual, the intensity not fully there since both of you only just woke up. It is slow, yet passionate. Your lips meet like they were meant for each other. Tongues only barely fighting each other as neither of you really wanted to take dominance of the situation.

And as Joel's fingers slowly make there way down the middle of your stomach, finding your sensitive bud soon after, yours are wrapping around his waist and pulling him even closer to you. You gasp as his fingers move your clit in slow methodical circles. The feeling makes your legs weak, but you quickly recover when you remember where you are and how easily you could fall.

The thought almost makes you laugh but that is also quickly forgotten when the finger that was just working your clit, makes its way into your folds, testing your entrance. It seems like Joel contemplates if you are ready for a second so you keen towards him a bit to egg him on. That's when his finger finally enters you, working its way in and out of you in time with his lips on yours.

Your hands now find their way in between his legs. You try to stroke his dick in the same pace as his fingers in you, but your brain has become a bit foggy. This only gets worse when Joel begins quirking his fingers inside of you in an attempt to find that particular spot inside of you.

"Come on baby, you know you want to give in." He says into your lips. The words come out almost desperate and the gruff nature of his voice has you melting. If you were an ice cube you would be down the drain already.

"I just want you inside of me. It's too early for all your teasing." Your words are now the ones that are desperate, as you fully grip his cock and stroke it quickly trying to urge him closer to wanting to fuck you.

He laughs at your actions and pushes your hands off of him, fingers also retreating from their still steady pace inside of you. Grabbing your hips with such careful hands, so careful that you almost question if this is the same man. Usually so rough with you that you are sure that even his callouses could leave marks.

Flipping you around he bends you at the hips and pushes you towards the wall, careful not to let the two of you fall. Your hands make contact with the cold tile and if you weren't so gone you would've pulled them away instinctually.

That's when he leans over you and whispers into your ear, "I'm going to fuck you now, but the way I want to. Nice and slow. One sound and I stop, understood?"

You open your mouth to answer, but snap it closed and nod instead.

"Good girl." Joel kisses the bit of jaw he can reach before he is standing back up straight.

One hand finds your waist and pulls you back into him. Your hands almost slip from the wet tile that is holding you up, but you recover. Just in time for the tip of his dick to tease your entrance.

Joel gathers the your wetness and strokes it down his member, covering it in preparation to enter you. When he is satisfied with his job he pushes his tip past your folds. Very slowly he enters you. And after what feels like an eternity he bottoms out inside of you.

The feeling has you gulping down a gasp that is threatening to leave your lips. Sure Joel has fucked you pretty much every which way, but there is something about right now that you are finding it so much harder to follow instructions. You just want to let him know how good he makes you feel.

And before you can fully let this thought circulate, Joel is pulling out of you painstakingly slow. The type of slow that almost hurts but also fills you with so much pleasure that you could forget your own name.

This is how he continues, this slow, painful pace. In and out of you. All the way from tip to base, each action feels like it could be a full minute of white hot pleasure. Joel holds your orgasm over your head like a pig with a carrot on a stick. Kept on a tight leash, with your lips also kept shut tight.

You're not sure how he is holding himself back at this point but, obviously, you don't question it. too scared of what would happen if you let anything escape your lips.

One particularly harsh thrust has his hips snapping into yours and involuntarily you are pushing your back into his, trying to get him even closer. Like that was possible.

This has him tutting at you and gripping your hips a bit rougher, "Like the way my dick fills you up baby?"

You want to answer, you really do but you just bite your lip instead. He seems to notice you holding back and laughs lightly at you.

Pulling out of you and flipping you around to face him. He pecks your forehead before lifting one leg around his hip. You almost lose your balance as he pushes you back into the wall, so you have at least a little bit of support.

"Let me give you what you really want." Joel says as he enters you once again. "Wanna see the look on your face as you cum on my dick, pretty girl."

Now he's pistoning you onto his dick, letting you feel as much of his length as he can with how tightly your leg is wrapped around him. Its like your body wants to keep him permanently inside of you, not like your brain disagrees though.

Just like that, a few thrusts later and you are getting closer to your orgasm. Your body giving in so easily and it's heightened state. You never knew how malleable morning sex would make you.

And as your vision is beginning to be clouded by stars and your stomach is tightening, a whimper escapes your lips before you can catch it. Joel's hips stop abruptly and so does your orgasm.

Your eyes snap open to meet his. They just stare back blankly, almost no emotion because you know what you did. You want to plead with him, maybe complain that you were close but you don't. Silence watches over you.

Joel sits there staring at you, member half inside of you. Your pussy clenches onto it, as if trying to urge him into giving in. But it isn't until you are dropping your eyes from his that he's leaning forward and capturing your lips in his own. He kisses you for a moment, slow and steady, still just warming his cock inside of you.

"I know you were close baby, but you knew the rules." He says in a way that it almost sounds like an apology. But that is long forgotten as he snaps his hip forward into you and hits your g spot in one perfect thrust.

The urge to moan again is intense that you are biting down on your lip. For a second you question if you would draw blood, but decide the pleasure is way important right now. As your head tosses back meeting the cool tile.

With how close your orgasm was before it isn't long before you are reaching your peak once again. Your stomach clenches again and vision blurs. Although this time you are conscious of the sounds you would normally make and hold them back. As the wave crashes over you and you are spasming into Joel's body.

Joel's strong arms hold you up as your legs go weak under you, the wet floor making it all too easy for you to just go down. The leg around his hips also loosens but he grips that thigh holding it there as he begins to chase his own orgasm.

The feeling of your walls clenching around him getting him dangerously close to his own peak. His teeth find your neck in an attempt to hold back his orgasm, not wanting to cum into you without a condom (or permission).

"Baby-" He grunts out, pain laced in his voice. You catch the tone immediately and try to find you feet. Although it takes you a second, in that second he is pulling out of you and stroking his dick in an attempt to reach his orgasm.

Without a second thought you are dropping to your knees and swatting his hands away replacing them with your own. The minute your mouth meets the tip of his member, he is shooting his load into your waiting cavern. Swallowing it all down as you stroke him slowly, working him through his high.

Joel's hands grip your hair as he comes down from his high. When he has come back down to earth, his fingers loosen and instead he is stroking your head in a comforting gesture.

Giving him another second to recover before you stand up to attach his lips to your own. Now he is melting into your touch as he tastes himself on your lips.

"I love you." This has you pausing and stepping back. You are sure you didn't hear him right. Seeing the look on your face a playful smile graces his own.

"Y/N I love you." Joel repeats.

"I-I love you too." You want to jump into his arms, but obviously you don't want to break your leg...or his.

"Why did you have to tell here?" Now you are hitting his chest, leaving the hand there, just needing to feel him. He laughs at your antics, but let's you continue, knowing you well enough to know you aren't done yet.

"I'm all wet and I just woke up. I have sex brain. Uh!" Another hit, this one has him grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards him carefully.

"I feel like that's the perfect time." Joel says with a smile, leaning down to place a kiss on your pouting lips.

"I feel like that's the perfect time." You mock him which has him laughing again. Another kiss is placed on your lips, this one continues a bit longer as if he is savoring the feeling of yours on his.

The blush is evident on your cheeks but you aren't giving up, "Just finish up in here, I'm going back to bed." A huff and you are leaving the shower. Joel's laugh echoes behind you.

When you told Joel to finish up, you didn't think he would take this long. At this rate you should've just stayed in there and washed yourself too. Instead you have dried yourself off already and are sat crisscross on Joel's bed. His shirt adorning your body and a towel wrapped around your still damp hair.

You have a book resting on your legs as you read in silence. Hearing the water turn off in the bathroom, you smile down at your book knowing Joel will be out soon.

Just as the sink faucet is switched on, the front door opens and a familiar voice sounds out through the house. The bathroom door is all but slammed open at the booming voice. Joel stands there towel around his waist, toothbrush between his lips. A bit of toothpaste is threatening to spill out of the corner of his mouth and you bite back a smile.

"Tommy." Joel says, the words a bit muffled by the brush and paste in his mouth.

Your eyes widen. No you weren't scared to meet his brother, I mean you have technically met him before. It was just you wanted to make a semi good impression and well here you were in only your underwear.

But before you can make any change to that Tommy's footsteps are thudding down the hallway and the door to Joel's bedroom is swinging open, with not so much as a knock.

"Joel!" Tommy calls out just as his eyes drop to yours. You are quickly pushing your legs straight under the covers in any attempt to cover yourself.

Tommy's jaw drops, "You!" Your eyes stay open wide not sure what is going to come out of his mouth next. Joel stays stuck in the doorway, not sure what to do either.

Then Tommy laughs, like a whole belly laugh. Loud, resounding. He doubles over holding his stomach. That's how funny he finds this whole situation.

It's almost a minute before he is recovering from his fit, wiping the tears that formed in the corners of his eyes. Both you and Joel are still stood there in shock. Watching his brother with semi-concerned eyes.

"The girl from the bar!" Tommy points to you, then to Joel. "And you! You old dog. Joel's still got it, huh?" He nods as if he's just discovered something.

Another chuckle and he's looking back at you, "Damn."

"Tommy..." Joel tests the waters, still not fully sure what to say to him.

"This is, just wow!" Then Tommy does something that is even more astounding. He slow claps. Actually slow claps like he's in some movie.

He does this for a second or two before looking between you and Joel, nodding slowly. You clear your throat, trying to attempt anything to clear the awkward air of the situation.

"I'm Y/N, by the way." A tight smile comes with your words. Hand leaving its grip on your book to give a small wave to the man.

He's still nodding, "Tommy-" He weighs his words. "I'm gonna go." And with that he is turning on his heel.

Yelling a quick, "Good job big bro!", before the front door is closed behind him.

As soon as the lock is clicking, you and Joel turn to each other. Still in shock, before you are giggling.

"Well, were two for two on family first meetings. Got any other family members I could awkwardly meet?"

Joel smiles at you before he is retreating to bathroom to spit out his long forgotten toothpaste. Returning to the room , he crawls across the foot of the bed towards you, like a lion stalking his prey.

"No, but honestly that's the best it could've gone with Tommy so don't feel bad." A kiss to your lips.

"I don't feel bad, I feel embarrassed." You say as you trace a finger down his jaw. He melts into your touch.

"I mean look at me!" You gesture to your lack luster clothing... or lack of clothing.

Lust flashes behind his eyes, "I think you look sexy." You almost hit him again but hold back.

"Of course you do, I'm wearing your shirt."

Joel considers your words for a second, "Is that what it is? Sure it isn't how I'm still thinking about how badly I wanted to fill you with my cum earlier?"

Your jaw drops, actually drops at his words. But two can play at this game.

"So why didn't you?" Hands play with the hairs at the nape of his neck, a shiver runs down his spine.

"You," A poke to your nose, "were in no mindset to give me permission, pretty girl. Not to mention, you were keeping those pretty lips shut." As he mentions your lips, he glances down at them. You readjust your body so your tits brush his chest. Nipples hardening at the sensation.

"Now I'm thinking about how much I missed out." You try, wanting to get one response in particular from Joel.

"Well, what my baby wants, she gets." Joel says matter-of-factly. Grabbing your hips and pulling you to lay down beneath him. You feel his hardening member brush your thigh.

"Mr. Miller, already so hard again?" You question the sound of fake astonishment in your voice.

"Shut up and let the whole neighborhood hear how good I make you feel. Gonna get you so full of my cum, sugar."

Needless to say, neither you nor Joel left the bed that day.

Taglist:

@wh0reforbucknasty @guelyury @shibeom @theoraekenslover @deathsholywaterr @azxulaa @untamedheart81 @akah565 @shadowmoonlight0604 @papi-ispunk

I just went ahead and tagged everyone that mentioned wanting a part two :)

[aethes-bookshelf]

we promised we'd save you || astarion/tav/halsin

This chapter took me way longer than I expected it to. I had to finish my biggest commission to date a few weeks after posting part one. It seems it took a lot out of me ^^"

But! I promised comfort, I deliver comfort. I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Astarion/Tav/Halsin

Warnings: implied/referenced past character death, hurt/comfort (mostly comfort)

Wordcount: 1.3k

Summary: The first thing Tav felt was pain.

ao3 link || part 1

When they came back, Halsin carrying Tav’s dead body, stunned silence washed over the camp. The entire time the party knew Tav, they seemed indestructible. Larger than life, powerful and confident. But now, with their limbs limply swaying with Halsin’s movements, they looked like a little doll; fragile and lifeless..

Their skin was much, much paler than usual, dirty with dried blood and grime. They weren’t wearing their armor; it might have been lost or destroyed at the bhaalist temple. Without their shoulder guards they seemed so much smaller, dwarfed by Halsin’s broad shoulders.

‘What happened?’ said Wyll, eyes wide.

‘Orin happened,’ said Karlach. She had a look of grim determination on her face. ‘Where’s the skeleton?’

* * *

The first thing Tav felt was pain. Every single muscle in their body ached with that deep, crushing kind of pain that made even the slightest movement hell. Their head wasn’t doing any better. Their pulse pounded in their skull, each beat of their heart bringing an uncomfortable sensation in their temples. They were parched, their throat so dry and tight they were sure it would start bleeding at any moment.

They were hurting all over. But if they were hurting, that meant they were alive.

That realization slammed them right back into themself. The last thing Tav remembered before everything went black was being thrown onto the sacrificial altar in the middle of the bhaalist temple.

Tav opened their eyes. Above them was the fabric of their tent — they were back at camp. They were back at camp! Relief flooded their system. Their friends must have come for them before it was too late.

Granted, they couldn’t really move much because of the pain, but it probably wasn’t anything a bit of healing magic couldn’t fix. And a little pain was to be expected after whatever the hell Orin did to them. They would manage with a few more healing potions and Shadowheart’s help.

Tav groaned at the ache as they tried to adjust their legs under the covers. A puff of white hair suddenly came into their vision. It disappeared almost immediately when someone crashed into their chest with a relieved sob. Tav made a short, pained sound.

‘Shit,’ Astarion hissed and reluctantly moved away. He settled for holding Tav’s hand instead. ‘You made me forget myself there, my sweet.’

‘Oh, I’m sure you must’ve been so worried,’ Tav said, their voice teasing and hoarse. They squeezed Astarion’s hand just a little bit tighter; he squeezed back. ‘Still, there’s no need to break my ribs over it, is there?’

Astarion was strangely silent for a beat too long. Tav tried to rise to get a better look at his face but decided against it after the pain pushed them back into their bedroll. ‘What, no witty banter? Are you okay, love?’

That made Astarion snort, unamused. ‘It’d be quite hard for me to be okay after you went and quite literally died on me.’

It was Tav’s turn to go silent. ‘...What do you mean “died”?’ They said after a few moments.

‘I mean “died”.’ He sounded annoyed. Still, his voice shook all the same. ‘You… you died. Orin killed you.’

‘Oh.’ Tav cleared their throat. They refused to let the true weight of that statement reach them. ‘Well, then I’m glad you brought me back. Though we’ll probably have to restock on scrolls of revivify. We’d been running low for a while now, anyway.’

‘See, that’s the thing,’ Astarion had to grab onto the fabric of his pants to stop his hand from shaking, ‘we couldn’t bring you back. We tried the scrolls, they…’ He swallowed, grief thick in his throat. ‘They wouldn’t work. We had to rush you to that blasted skeleton. For a moment I thought I’d…’

…lost you.

Astarion couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. He felt as if he was on the brink of a cliff, staring down a bleak, lonely future. He’d rather not think about what his life would be like if Tav had not come back to him.

Tav wished to sit up and cradle Astarion to their chest. But they couldn’t; and they cursed all the gods, devils and hells for it.

‘Lovely, look at me,’ they said instead.

Astarion did as they asked. He was trying very hard not to cry again; he wasn’t sure if he had any tears left to spare.

‘I’m here now, okay? I’m still here.’ They tried to give Astarion a reassuring smile, but it came out as a weak grimace. He smiled back anyway.

‘I know, love. And am I not grateful for it,’ Astarion said, quietly. He wiped his eyes with the back of his free hand. ‘Give me a moment, I have to tell Halsin you’re okay.’

‘Is he alright?’

‘He’ll be now.’

The tent fell into silence when Astarion left it. Tav’s world shrank down to the pull of their muscles and the pounding in their head.

They died. Almost for good this time. The reality of that crashed down on them so suddenly they felt like they couldn’t breathe.

But they were still here. Was Orin dead then? Did the rescue party get her Netherstone? What of Gortash? Had any progress been made while they were out of it? Just how long had they been out of it?

Their racing thoughts stopped when the flaps of their tent parted and both of their lovers came in. Halsin rushed to their side, worry clear on his face.

‘My heart!’ He was by their side in an instant. He grabbed their hand, just as Astarion had before, and planted a kiss on it. He held it to his face like a drowning man would hold a piece of driftwood.

‘Hi,’ Tav smiled. ‘Glad to be back in the land of the living.’ They could taste the copper tang of blood in the back of their mouth.

Astarion settled next to Halsin and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘It’s okay, you big oaf,’ he said, doing his best to sound exasperated, ‘they’re okay.’

‘You say it as if you, too, haven’t been beside yourself with worry.’

Astarion scoffed. ‘Yes, yes, the pot calling the kettle black and all that.’ Despite his tone, Astarion’s eyes, locked on Halsin, remained soft.

Halsin rested his and Tav’s intertwined hands in his lap. ‘How are you feeling, my heart?’

‘Like I just died,’ Tav said, in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘Everything hurts, I can’t really move.’

Halsin’s brow creased with worry. ‘Let me.’ He lifted his free hand and passed it over Tav’s body. The soothing coolness of healing magic did away with some of their pain.

Relief must have been clear on Tav’s face; Astarion perked up almost instantly. ‘I take it you’re feeling better already, aren’t you?’

‘I suppose I do,’ Tav adjusted their legs under the covers, this time without most of the pain. ‘I wager I’ll be up and about soon enough.’

‘You should rest for a few more days at least,’ Halsin’s voice was firm. Tav suspected there would be no changing his mind.

‘I know, I know.’ They sighed, bored already. ‘And thank you for the healing spell, honey.’

Halsin smiled. ‘The pleasure is mine, my heart.’

‘How long was I out?’

‘Almost a week,’ said Astarion. His head was resting on Halsin’s shoulder. The druid laid his free hand on the vampire’s lap. ‘None of the others knew what to do without you.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I didn’t, either.’

‘None of us did.’ Halsin sighed. ‘Until now,’ he said and gave Tav a look so full of pure, unfiltered adoration they had to look away for a moment.

‘Until now,’ whispered Astarion.

‘Rest, my love.’ Halsin’s voice was warm and soft. ‘We’ll be here, watching over you.’

Tav nodded and closed their eyes. Sleep came for them quickly.

Their head was no longer pounding.

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Bonds That Break Us (Rhysand x Female! Reader) Part 6

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Final Part

Request: "Would you do a Rhysand x fem!reader series? Maybe fem!reader is Rhysand's mate and Tamlin's sister? So secret love?"

AN: Took a wild leap with this one...

Summary: It was almost as if the cauldron liked to play games, as if it had sensed years of boredom and predictability and begged to be entertained. Its method of absolving its melancholy? Mate the High Lord of the Night Court to the younger sister of the High Lord of Spring. 

Warnings (so far): mentions of physical abuse, mentions of SA, major sexisim, SMUT, dirty talk, angst.

Word count: 3557

(all photos are from pinterest)

“And if they win? If my brother and Beron get their way?” I ask Rhysand who is clearly lost in thought, but it’s Mor who answers.  

“Then you would be forced to marry Eris. As fucked up and sexist as it is, they’re going to call into question who had claim of you first Eris or Rhys.” Mor answered clearly, hating the words  coming out of her own mouth. 

“Oh,” I murmured, it was all I could say, the thought that all of this could have been for nothing. Those days spent in a cell, weeks keeping Rhysand and I a secret it didn’t change the outcome of my life. 

“I won’t let it come to that,” Rhys said, walling over to me and pressing his forehead to mine. “I won’t let them take you from me.” 

“You’re right I’m sure we can figure this out,” I reply, not trusting my own words.  

“Let’s go shopping girl, it will give brooding old Rhys here time to think of a plan.” Mor said, trying to lighten the mood. “You can borrow something of mine while we shop.”

“Mor’s right we should get me some clothes,” I giggle looking down at the too big shirt of Rhysand’s that I was wearing. I press a chaste kiss to his lips trying to bring a smile to his face but it doesn’t work. I move towards Mor but I feel Rhy’s hand pull me back. 

“Not without one of these,” he says, pressing his lips to mine passionately. I nearly moan at the way he is always able to kiss me into submission. I swear I’d do anything he asked me if he just kissed me like this. 

“I love you,” I smile, pulling away from the kiss. 

“I love you too,” he smiles, running his thumb over my lips. “Take care of her Mor.” 

“Like she was my own mate,” Mor smiled before leading me to her bedroom.

“This wasn’t just a shopping trip you know?” Mor says, holding up her glass of wine to her lip. “I wanted to thank you.” 

She had insisted that we go out for a drink and for dinner before turning in for the night and given the long day we had I was more than willing to do just that. 

“Thank me for what? I hardly think I’ve done anything but cause problems for your cousin and your court,” I sigh popping another grape into my mouth. 

“Yet I’ve never seen him so happy,” she sent me a knowing smile. “I’ve known Rhys my whole life, never have I seen him so at peace, so willing to live. When his parents and his sister died he was given the title of High Lord, one he never felt like he was ready for. It made him unhappy, but all that has changed because of you.” 

“How did Rhys’ family die?” I ask sipping my own glass of wine. All of the color drained from Mor’s face.

“You don’t know?” she asks bewildered. 

“No he never told me,” I answered, afraid of whatever answer she might tell me. 

“I shouldn’t tell you this,” she said, trying to resume sipping her wine. 

“Mor please, tell me.” I beg her. 

“Okay but don’t let Rhys kill me,” she starts. “200 years ago Rhys and your brother were friends, but your father figured out that Rhysand would be the most powerful High Lord and sought to bring him down a peg. So one night he and Tamlin as well as your brothers went to the Illyrian Camps and slaughtered his mother and sister in cold blood. When Rhysand’s father found out both went to the Spring Court only leaving you and Tamlin alive.” 

I could hardly believe what I was hearing Tamlin had always told me that the agents of the night court had killed our family for stealing their wings, that they were to be an enemy of our court. If I ever asked him to tell me more he would refuse. “But why would Rhys and his father leave us alive?” 

Mor let out another sigh, “Rhys was supposed to kill you. That night he stood over your bed with a dagger, the mating bond snapped into place. He told me that he fell to his knees before you. It was too late for him to rectify what he had done to your family, but when he found his father holding a dagger to Tamlin’s throat Rhys begged for him to live and he did. But Tamlin took Rhysand’s fathers own dagger and drove it through his heart anyways.” 

I nearly felt my knees give out, he had known for 200 years and said nothing. I couldn’t stop myself from reeling. My heart rate began to pick up and suddenly this dress was too tight, this room was too hot and the walls were closing in. 

“I need…I need some air,” I gasped. It was all I could say before taking off. 

I heard Mor calling for me inside the tavern but I couldn’t stop, not for anything. The chill of the night air did little to calm my heart rate down.  I wove through a sea of people, all of them balking at the unfamiliar face. I even heard murmurs of ‘that’s Tamlin’s sister’ and my gut churned. All that was going through my head was he knew, he knew, he knew. 

So I ran, and I ran, and I tried to outrun the feeling but it didn’t matter how far I went, I couldn’t escape the shocking truth I had just heard.

I found myself sitting by the edge of the river about a mile outside of town. Something about the sound of the water flowing by and the crickets chirping gave me time to think. It wasn’t agents of the night court that killed  my family, it was the High Lord, and Rhys. I supposed I should be mad, but given the events of the last few days, what Tamlin did to me, what he’s still trying to do? I’m almost glad Rhys nearly put an end to it all. But it doesn’t change one thing. He knew we were mates for almost 200 years and didn’t tell me. I had heard him calling down the bond for an hour now, but I shut him out. I needed time to process this. 

Behind me I heard the flap of massive wings and then a thud, I turned to find Azriel standing behind me. His face was kind. Not angry or upset like I thought it would be. He looked friendly. 

“It’s a bit cold out tonight, mind if I join you?” he asked, gesturing to the spot beside me. 

“I’m afraid I’m not the best company, but be my guest.” I reply, patting the spot next to me. His massive frame came to sit beside me and as the breeze floated in from my right he curled a wing around me shielding me from it.  

“So you found out how to shut Rhys out of the bond?” he smirked. 

“I guess so,” I shrugged, not taking my eyes off the river before me. 

“Nice,” he smiled like he was proud of me for doing so. 

“Is he mad?” I ask, cringing slightly. 

“No, but he is worried. The second Mor came back and told him what happened and he sent all of us out to find you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has the whole of Velaris doing search and rescue by now.” Azriel explained casually.  

“I’m sorry. I just needed time.” I said picking at the rocks on the ground. 

“Don’t be. It was a big blow,” he started. “Are you mad at Rhys?” 

“I know I should be, but I’m not. I just wish he had told me.” I sigh.

“You know I was there that night. I was at the townhouse when he returned from the spring court. He was a wreck, an honest to gods wreck. He was so stricken with grief over what he had done that he disappeared to the Illyrian mountains for a week.” he explained. 

“But why didn’t he tell me?” I plead.

“I don’t know. I think he wanted to, but the timing was never right. He spent nearly 200 years loving you from afar and then you finally felt the bond snap. I think he was so happy that he was scared he would lose you. That you would reject the bond.” he said. 

“I suppose I don’t know what I’d do in that situation either,” I sigh.

“One thing you can be sure of is that he does love you. I’ve never seen a person love another person more. Hell he’s trying to claw into my mind as we speak but I’m not letting him,” Azriel chuckles. 

“I suppose I should go back then,” I laugh beginning to stand up. 

“I’ll take you. Do you want me to winnow you there or do you want to go the fun way?” he says, cocking an eyebrow. 

“What’s the fun way?” I ask nervously, dusting the dirt off my dress. 

He snapped his wings out in answer. 

“Oh definitely the fun way,” I smile. “I’ve never flown before.”

“Rhys will be pissed that I’m taking your flying virginity but he’ll get over it eventually.” Azriel smiles before scooping me up. “You ready?” 

“Yes!” I squeal in anticipation and excitement. 

“Hold on tight princess,” Azriel laughs, launching off the ground into the sky. 

My stomach bottoms out and my grip on his neck tightens as the river below us gets smaller and smaller. All the air leaves my lungs as we continue to ascend and then we’re soaring through the sky.  

“Oh my gods this is amazing!” I shout with joy into the night and I feel Azriel’s chuckle reverberate through my body. 

“Do you trust me?”  he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” I smile, still unable to  hide the joy I feel.  

“Let go of my neck, I'm going to let you free fall,” he instructs me. 

“But you’re going to catch me right?” I ask just to be sure. 

“You’re going to be my High Lady one day, I will always catch you,” he says nonchalantly.

“Okay let’s do it,” I say, removing my hands from his neck. 

“See you in a second!” he laughs before letting go. 

I feel myself falling through the sky and it’s the most freeing feeling ever. I can’t help but let an excited whoop out as the wind whips my hair about. I have never felt more powerful, more invincible than in this moment. Every worry about my brother, about Beron and the council are gone, for once my mind is clear. 

I see Azriel tucking his wings in above me diving down to meet me and in mere seconds I feel him scooping me up again. 

“That was so fun!” I shout. 

“Don’t ever tell Rhys we did that he will have my head,” Azriel laughed and I could see the townhouse below us. 

We land on the terrace and the sound of our laughter brings Rhys out to meet us. 

“Thank gods I was scared something had happened to you,” he said, rushing over to press a kiss to my forehead.  

“I’m fine you overbearing mother hen,”  I laugh putting my  hands on his forearms.  

“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Azriel said backing away. 

“Wait!” I shout before running over to throw my arms around him giving the biggest hug I possibly could. For a second he doesn’t hug me back, in shock from my sudden action but then I feel two arms wrap around me. “Thank you for everything, for the talk, for the ride.  All of it.” 

“Of course y/n any time.” he smiled. I backed away and took Rhys’ hand as he began to lead me inside. 

“Oh and Azriel!” Rhys called making Azriel turn around. “I saw that,” he smirked and I know he meant the free fall. 

“Damn,” Azriel cursed before taking off into the night. 

Rhys turned to me, mood more somber now. “I think we need to talk,”  he said quietly, like the words would hurt him if he spoke them too loud.  

“I think we do too,” I replied. 

We walked upstairs to the bedroom, everything was just as we left it this morning. Bed unmade, sheets thrown everywhere. The only noticeable difference was my new trove of dresses hanging in Rhys’ closet. My heart warmed at the sight of it. Something so small yet so meaningful at the same time, so domestic. Something I had unknowingly wanted for a long time. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask turning around to meet his violet eyes. 

“Please believe me when I say I wanted to tell you. I never planned on keeping you in the dark about it. That night I went to kill you I had such hatred in my heart, I had lost my mother and my sister and I wanted revenge. I was young and stupid and following my father blindly. But when I saw you  the bond clicked and I had never known such love. I remember it all. I fell to my knees before you and I realized what I had done. I had killed my mate's family. When I saw my father and Tamlin fighting I begged them to stop, begged my father to let him live. I couldn’t tell them why for fear that Tamlin would kill you just to hurt me. But eventually my father gave in, but Tamlin still stuck a dagger in his heart. When I got back to Velaris I had become High Lord and I couldn’t cope.” he explained, stepping closer to me to cup my cheek. “I have spent the last 200 years in agony knowing what I did to you.” 

He paused taking in my face like he might never see me again, like I might reject the mating bond, and his eyes started to glass over. 

“The day the bond snapped for  you was one of the happiest days of my life. But you were already so hesitant to let me in, you wouldn’t even let my name pass your lips. I knew I couldn’t tell you then for fear of losing you forever. I had to make you see that I wasn’t the monster Prythian paints me to be. Even though I acted like one that night. I was selfish in not telling you. You deserved to know the truth. But please forgive me, and I will spend the rest of my life making up for it in every way I know how. They might seem like empty words, but I love you so much, I don’t think I can live without you.” he finished and I saw a tear slip from his eye. 

“Rhys, I’ve already forgiven you.” I say wiping the tear from his face. “And maybe that makes me a terrible person, forgiving and loving the man who killed my family. But look at what they would’ve done, what they stood for. Tamlin locked me in a cell and was ready to sell me off to be Eris’ breeding vessel. The way my brothers and father always treated me they would’ve done the same, maybe worse.  Who knows what miserable fate you might’ve saved me from. Your true character is reflected in people like Azriel and Cassian, in this beautiful city you’ve kept secret and protected for years. I see all of you Rhysand and there is not a part of you that I don’t love with all that I am.” 

Rhys lets out a sigh of relief before smashing our lips together. I can taste the salt of his tears and the salt of my own. I throw my arms around his neck pulling him impossibly close 

“I love you so much,” he cries between kisses. 

“I love you too,” I say back smiling. I sit down on the bed and pull him down with me. 

“Wait we can’t your still hurt,” he protests. 

“Rhysand, if you don’t get on this bed and fuck me right now I swear on my life I will get myself off.” I gripe at him. 

“While I would love nothing more than to watch you play with your pretty pussy. I think I’d rather do it myself tonight. But you need to tell me if you’re hurting at all okay?” he fusses. 

“I will, I promise! Now please touch me!” I whine taking his hand and placing it on my breast. 

“With pleasure mate,”  he says, squeezing my breast. He snaps his fingers and our clothes are gone. 

“That’s a fun little trick,” I laugh pulling him down, needing to feel his skin on mine.

“Only used for times where I desperately need to be inside you,” he purrs and chills coat my body. 

I kiss him hard letting my hands caress his shoulders and arms, all of him pure muscle, lethal and totally at my mercy. He pulls my hair back to give himself access to my neck and I feel a wave of arousal flow through me as he finds that sweet spot that drives me wild. 

My hand drifts down his front  grazing every muscle on it’s way until I find his cock already hard and dripping with precum. I wrap my fingers  around it and begin stroking it. My hand feeling incredibly small compared to the size of him. His hips buck fucking himself into my hand at the contact. 

“Fuck mate,” he lets out a low groan in my ear. “How is it that even your hands feel perfect around my cock?” 

“It’s because I was made for you,” I muse nibbling his ear. 

“Hmm,” he hums in delight. “You know what was really made for me?”  

“What?” I ask as he pulls his cock from my hand. 

“This,” he smirks before plunging himself inside of me. I arch my back off the mattress in pleasure as he lets out a guttural moan. “Gods your so fucking tight!” 

“Oh fuck Rhys!” I moan, scratching my nails down his back. 

He starts fucking me hard, the mating bond glowing brightly between us. If this is how badly we need one another before the mating ceremony I shudder to think what will happen after. If he thinks a few weeks will be enough he’s dead wrong, I could do this for the rest of my life. 

He snaps his hips at an angle that hits a particularly sensitive spot and I can’t help but moan even louder. 

“Gods I love the sounds you make when I fuck you,” he says with a feral grin before sinking his teeth into my neck. 

“Oh gods Rhys I’m close!” I groan, running my hands through his hair. 

“I’m right behind you mate, make a mess on my cock,” he grunts and it’s enough to send me over the edge with his name on my lips. 

“Fuck y/n!” he screams, spilling his seed inside me.

As I feel his warm cum coat my walls he collapses on top of me and though he’s crushing me it’s an welcome weight. His skin on mine is the best feeling I’ve ever known. His shallow breaths coat my neck as I rub soothing circles on his back. We spend a few minutes catching our breath as I continue to hold him close to me. 

“Did you talk to Cassian and Az about Beron?” I ask. 

“I did and I think we have a solution.” he answers without moving his head from my chest. 

“What is it?” I inquire further, dying to know. 

“We toyed with the idea of having the mating ceremony early but with the meeting so soon it wouldn’t be safe. If we were to walk in there as a newly mated pair I would have Beron’s head ripped off within moments of him talking about you like you’re an object. It’s too dangerous,” Rhys said. 

“Agreed,” I chuckle nervously. “But if we can’t mate officially then what do we do?”

Rhys rolls over from his spot on top of me so that he can see my face, no doubt wanting to gage my reaction to his proposed solution. 

“I make you my High Lady,” he says with pride in his voice. 

I knew that Azriel had said it earlier but at the time I didn’t believe him. It didn’t seem possible. I bore no real powers besides winnowing, I had no political knowledge. How could I possibly be High Lady.  

“But do you really want that?” I ask. “I mean you’re not just doing it to make sure Beron and Tamlin don’t win right?” 

“I’ve always known you were going to be my High Lady y/n. But I knew that the title came with responsibilities. I didn’t want to pressure you into it.” he explains. “But to answer your question more directly, yes, I want it. I want you to be my equal in every way possible. Why do you think I brought up Kallias and Viviane when we were on the Summer Court terrace?”

I smile remembering the interaction.

“Then I guess I’m High Lady of the Night Court now.” I smile triumphantly. 

(I was debating wether or not to put this sort of plot twist in here so please leave some feedback because it helps me to know what you guys like and how I can write better for all you beautiful stars!)

Taglist: @crystalferret202 , @heyyitsnat21 , @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson , @randomperson1234sblog , @local-fangirl09 , @bleh-81, @annaaaaa88 , @tenaciousperfectionunknown , @judig92, @aunicornmademedoit, @sharknutz , 

 @slytherintaco , @isa1b2h3 , @nickishadow139  , @sarawritestories , @coisas-da-dani ,  @lovemesomevesey ,  @graceshifts , 

[elliespassagerprincess]

ohh i love your works smmm <3 can i request more loser ellie hc? fluff & nsfw <333

Headcannons: loser!ellie x reader

Part 1 Part 2

Sfw:

☆ Loser Ellie who took you stargazing on the second date.

There was no cloud in the sky as the two of you lay on the soft pink blanket Ellie brought. You were amazed by the stars, and Ellie was amazed by your beauty. She could stare at you for hours.

Ellie was lost in a trance before she heard your voice “what are you looking at?”

Ellie’s throat went dry. Her cheeks tinted pink, she’s been fucking caught.

“the air” she lied all you did was shake your head.

☆ Loser Ellie who refused to touch you because she was so shy. Even holding your hand scared her.

☆ Loser Ellie who had multiple accounts to stalk you because she was afraid that you might think she was weird for watching you every move.

☆ Loser Ellie who was too scared to make a move, and in the process she was pushing you away.

☆ Loser Ellie who didn’t touch you, who didn’t make eye contact with you and you truly felt unwanted.

☆ Loser Ellie who went to your house one night when she saw a picture of you kissing someone else.

She knocked on your front door. She was confused. Angry. Sad. Jealous.

The door opened and there you stood in all your glory.

“What the fuck do you want Ellie?” you asked with a huff.

Ellie’s gaze fell to the floor before she spoke in a whisper “who was she?”

“what?” you questioned

“who was she? The girl you kissed”

“that has nothing to do with you”

Ellie made eye contact with you for the first time in a long time

“it fucking does. We- i- I thought we had something”

“We have fucking nothing Ellie” you replied harshly

“you make me feel unwanted, and so I moved one”

You watched Ellie turn around to walk away and before you closed the door, she ran back to you, grabbing your face for a kiss.

She pulled away looking at you with wide eyes “I’m sorry” was all she said before she ran away.

☆ Loser Ellie who ignored your calls and texts.

☆ Loser Ellie who buys you things that she thinks you would like and she just kept it in her room hoping she’d get the guts to face you again.

☆ Loser Ellie who wrote you letter but she never sent them to you.

☆ Loser Ellie who tries not to cry when she sees pictures of you and other people.

☆ Loser Ellie who has a photo album dedicated to pictures that she thinks you would like. It was a collection of flowers, stuffed animals, memes just things that reminded her of you.

☆ Loser Ellie who loses her shit when she can’t find the letter she wrote you.

“Dina where’s the letters?” she yelled as she threw her clothes from her closet onto the floor.

“I gave it to her”

“what?”

“Ellie-“Dina sighed “you’re losing your fucking mind because of her, I had to do something”

☆ Loser Ellie who wasn’t even mad because you arrived at her apartment.

Before you could even open your mouth Ellie confessed:

“I’m in love with you”

you chuckled at her confession “I know els I read the letters”

And just like that you kissed her. It was a real kiss. Ellie didn’t want you to pull away but you had to tell her something

“in one of the letters you said that I’m the light in your life, that was very poetic” Ellie blushed before she replied

“yeah you are, but can I kiss you again?”

☆ Loser Ellie who asked you to be her girlfriend the next day with a poster because she couldn’t ask you the question.

☆ Loser Ellie who started punching the air when you said yes forgetting you were there. She was very embarrassed afterwards.

☆ Loser Ellie whose palms were so sweaty the first time you held her hand that you kept wiping your hands off.

☆ Loser Ellie who gains more confidence while being with you.

☆ Loser Ellie who has polaroids of you all over her room.

☆ Loser Ellie who has one of your sweaters that she sleeps with every night because she missed you and she was too scared to ask if you wanted to come over.

☆ Loser Ellie who waits at her phone for you to respond.

☆ Loser Ellie who doesn’t always text first because she doesn’t to annoy you.

☆ Loser Ellie who paints her nails your favorite color.

☆ Loser Ellie who secretly gets your initial tattooed behind her ear.

☆ Loser Ellie who buys you both matching outfits, bracelets, shoes, literally she wants to match everything with you.

nsfw:

☆ Loser Ellie who almost combusts when you wore lingerie for the first time.

“holy shit” she breathed when you walked out the bathroom.

“you like it?” you asked with a shy smile.

“I fucking love it, now come fuck me”

☆ Loser Ellie who’s a switch.

☆ Loser Ellie who likes when you ride her because she gets to suck your tits.

☆ Loser Ellie who loves it when she can leave hickeys on you (especially between your thighs)

☆ Loser Ellie who gets most of her pleasure from giving you pleasure.

☆ Loser Ellie who sucks your fingers after you made her cum multiple times.

☆ Loser Ellie who can stay hours in between your legs.

☆ Loser Ellie who’s scared to try new things.

“I want to try something new” she spoke one afternoon

“what?”

Suddenly Ellie went quiet. Should she really ask you?

“i- um- if you d-don’t want to its ok”

“Ellie talk”

“sit on my face please?”

☆ Loser Ellie who like it when you sit on her face. She could die this way honestly, being suffocated by you.

☆ Loser Ellie who keeps your underwear, and she has a whole collection.

☆ Loser Ellie who buys lingerie for you because she’d always imagine how’d you look wearing them.

☆ Loser Ellie who keeps the nudes you send her. She has a special folder.

☆ Loser Ellie who has polaroid’s of you in underwear that she uses to get off.

☆ Loser Ellie who gets turned on when you breathe, so she’s constantly ready to pounce on you when you give her the chance.

☆ Loser Ellie who can never get tired of you.

☆ Loser Ellie who wished she’d met you earlier

[writella]

Trinkets; The Gifts of Gold He Gave You

Synopsis: A detailed record of all the special objects Daryl has found for you while hunting, riding, supply gathering, and living in the various places he has in the new world. These objects often lead to sweet moments of kindness, joy, and understanding between the two of you, deepening your connection. Although they are things others might not think much of— they were simply small gestures or trinkets after all— you believed these memories and mementos to be gifts of gold; they would shine in your mind forever onward.

Details: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader, mutual pining, kisses, lots of love and ♡ sweetness ♡ (true self indulgence at its finest), but there are also descriptions of trauma, abuse, and self-hate. Though other than that, it’s nothing else except Daryl being an endearing friend and future loverboy to you. This travels across the plot and setting of season 6-8, but it might not be a perfect fit. Lastly, even though these can be read anthologically, I did write them in a storyline as if there was an order in which Daryl gives or does these things with the reader as their relationship grows, so some past trinkets might be mentioned in the next story, but it truly isn’t too big of a deal; this is one you can have fun with! ♡

Author’s Note: My dearest reader, this one took much longer than I intended, but I think it’s because I put so much of my silly heart-filled imagination into it— truly one of my favorites to write thus far. I’m just so happy to give it to you. Feel free to read these all at once, one at a time, or pick the ones that best fit who you are. with love, writella . ♡ ⋆ ☽

Trinkets moodboard & visualizer here!

Trinket No. 1: The Ribbon ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ ⟡.•

A Bow from a Bowman

Daryl was out on a hunt one morning when he found it. It’s like he was compelled to pick it up, he did it without even thinking. It was nothing, honestly: kind of silly really, and flimsy, slightly covered by grass blades— it was dirty and discarded. But there was something about it, something tender… it reminded him of you, even though in some ways still, he hardly knew you at all.

It had been over a month since Daryl came back home to Alexandria; just a month since you entered what was supposed to be your new home. But also a week or so long journey it had been to unexpectedly find you and bring you back.

He remembered it well: you were covered in dirt, tired and hungry, running for your life from the past group you were with. He was going to let you go and mind his business— you looked scared of him anyway when you crashed into him. But most importantly, he had just lost his crossbow, his bike, and maybe even a little bit of his dignity to Dwight who stole them. He didn’t feel like getting tricked again, especially since it takes a lot to trick him; he wasn’t letting that happen again. Especially not the day after. And most especially not for a seemingly young and innocent-looking girl like Dwight’s wife, Sherry or that kid they were with, Tina.

But then, he heard the yelling, the hollering, the men– they wanted you, and none of it was for the right reasons. Very wrong and scary reasons they were indeed, ones he would soon come to understand were things you’d never want to live out or discuss again. He understood that feeling, so he stayed. He hid behind a tree. He decided to help again. Who knows of your innocence, but what was definitely true was that you were a lost and lonely girl in the woods. He knew a thing or two about those unfortunately, those stories ended badly.

Sad enough, the hiding and helping— or attempting to— led him to become a prisoner with you and your ‘group.’ He barely got scraps of food, and every night was just another day of seeing your tears, your face in a permanent state of desolation and misery; staying ever silent even when you were yelled at— even when you were forced to do things you didn’t want to do. You looked scared and small.

It was only when you all reached a hospital, one you burned to the ground just to get away from them, that Daryl saw the fight in you. You didn’t even ask for his help and he tried to save you, but in the end, you saved him. A silent soldier, you were. He returned the favor with the least he could do: he took you home.

And now there you both were. You sat by Rick’s fireplace. No one was home yet, and you had just put Judith down for the night. Daryl found you there on the floor with a book. He quietly sat near you. All you two said was hello.

And this was normal, actually– the being around each other, showing up unannounced, sitting beside each other– talking or not– or you, trying to help him with whatever work he was up to. He tried to fight it at first, but it became a regular thing. It’s what helped Daryl get to know you, and you to him.

You were equally as fierce as the fire you created not long ago, but just as gentle. Just as desiring to smile and create friendships. He knew that now. And he— he was just as rock solid and straightforward as the crossbow he once carried, but just delicate. Just as easily hurt and as quick to hide, yet so deeply desiring of loyalty and acceptance. You know that now too.

It’s still so soon, but you admired him, so deeply. You wanted to learn from him. You thought he was strong, and you wanted to be strong. All that anguish and pain and he came out a fighter, a leader.

Little did you know that is exactly what he thought of you. He went from seeing you cry yourself to sleep every night to becoming the kind and generous friend you were to almost everyone you met. Always offering to care for Judith, or allowing Carl to come to you to talk, or learning about guns and shooting with Rosita. And of course finding a way to go on supply runs, or learn to hunt, or fight walkers with Daryl as much as you could. As always, he pretended not to care that much, but he did. He couldn’t help it. He values his independence, but it was nice that there was someone who wanted to be around him so much. And he admired you for his own reasons as well: You’re someone who fills others up with lightness when such dark things have happened. He felt like that every time you two we’re together. He wanted to learn from you too.

As he sat there, thinking, he wondered if maybe that’s why he thought of you when he saw it. Maybe it was the brightness and softness of it, despite finding it on the ground, despite it being dirty. He cleaned it up, and it still shined, that’s like you but… he was still unsure. Maybe it truly was nothing, maybe it was stupid.

He looked to his side, watching your figure for a moment as he decided what to do. You were on your stomach, laying on the small rug that sat in front of the fire. You were continuing the chapter you were on, paying little attention to him. He only said ‘hey,’ after all. And you did wave back, you asked him how his day was, but all he gave you was a typical response, ‘fine,’ he had said. You thought maybe this visit wasn’t about talking so you left it. And all of this was typical anyway, for Daryl to come by Rick’s, or for you two to sit in peaceful silence, but then you started to see him fidget in his spot in your periphery, like he couldn’t decide how he wanted to sit, hands adjusting his jeans, moving things in his pocket.

“Do you wanna go to the porch?” You thought maybe he was reaching for a smoke. “I can put on the baby monitor…” He just shook his head at the suggestion.

You decide to move to the spot next to him, leaning your back against the wall. “Did something happen today?” Your voice was soft as you tilt your head, trying to reach his eyes.

“No,” he shook his head again, he was facing forward. “It’s just…”

“What?” You asked calmly.

He found it hard to speak, “Just- just brought something.” He reached into his pocket one last time, his hand in a fist as it made its way closer between the two of you until he started to release his fingers from his palm slowly.

It was a ribbon. A pearly light pink one. Just scattered in his hand. “It’s stupid,” he grumbled quietly, trying to shove it back down his pocket, but you stop him.

“Wait,” your hands gently cupping the other side of his and then you pick it up, letting him go. You wrap the ribbon around your finger and you tie it into a bow, examining it in your palm now. “This is for me?” Soft disbelief enchanted your voice. You made sure not to sound too excited or too surprised. You didn’t want to scare him, especially since he replied with:

“It's nothin’.” He was feeling slightly embarrassed.

“It's so nice,” your voice continued in its understated tone despite your smile becoming uncontainable. You couldn’t help the way your lips were curling upward, it was even hurting your cheekbones to try to make your teeth shine through a little less— Daryl Dixon just gave you a gift. And it was a little pink thing at that. Perhaps miracles are real. “It's perfect,” you say, “I can wear it in my hair.”

“It's stupid.” He repeated, brushing you off, but you saw right through him. Daryl doesn’t do anything for no reason at all.

“It's not.” Your words are so kind as your interject, “You know, sometimes it's the smallest things that mean everything. They become our favorite things even.” Your lips pressed together, forming another smile as he meets your gaze, “Like your vest that needs to be patched up.”

“It's fine,” he almost sounded defensive. It made you laugh.

As messed up as it is, it truly was fine. It was his and he loved it; that made it so. And he didn’t only have the vest, he also had his cut-up button-downs, and those ties he laced on the bottom of his jeans— you knew those were probably because the pants available didn’t always fit all the time, but nonetheless— these were all things that made him and his clothing unique from the others. Even in the apocalypse, Daryl was one of the few that maintained a personal style. You couldn’t help but love it. He could, and often always was, the guy covered all in dirt and grim and blood but he still had something about his look that was simply just him.

You missed that. Having those personal touches, and now here Daryl was with this. The simplest thing, but he brought it for you. It was your special piece, your special something. It truly was perfect.

“C’mere,” Daryl gestured, taking the ribbon from your hand and moving your shoulders so your back faced him. He undid the bow and cuffed your hair, he actually almost yanked your head with the way he gathered the ponytail, honestly– he forgets his strength, but you said nothing. Only giggling slightly, but you were mostly quiet. You tried to keep it down, afraid he might stop if he thought you were making fun of him. You wanted to reel at the closeness for as long as you could. You couldn’t believe the fact that he was doing something so domestic— you almost couldn’t breathe. He tried to detangle some pieces with his fingers and then he tilted his head to the side to leave some shorter pieces out at the front. He didn’t know what he was doing and he probably was doing it badly, but he tried his best to be delicate. He’s never touched you like this before. Every time his fingers accidentally brushed against your ear or your neck he relearned just how soft you are. And every feeling of his skin almost made you shiver; like when someone whispers in your ear, it always feels so sensitive, traveling down until you feel it everywhere. His touches felt like that. You always end up feeling his everywhere. He’s entrancing, filling you with hearts and stars.

Finally, he ties the ribbon into a bow right at the top of the ponytail he created. He’s done. He lets go. They shapes and colors fade. Everything is cold again.

But to him, everything looked warm and vibrant. Looking at you was a sight so sweet and so gentle among all this dark wreckage of the world— it was precisely how he saw you: the way the ribbon now laced around your hair looked like an angelic embrace.

You turn to him, “Thank you, Daryl.” Your smile is so sincere, so lovely, there might as well be a halo and hearts invisibly drawn all around you.

A moment passes as you continue to look at each other and your heart jumps. He’s still looking directly at you. There are moments that he looks away and you can’t help it, the bashfulness creeps up on you two, but he’s giving you all his attention; it feels great. You decide to take the chance, you can't help yourself, you hug him, you have to. It has been so long since someone gave you something. So long since someone thought of you so specifically and intimately.

He’s caught off guard, his hands don’t wrap around you until a few seconds later, but when they do, they are sure, and tight, more sure of it than you surprisingly.

You breathe him in, giggling again, “I’m surprised you smell this good.”

“Fuck you.” It makes you laugh just a bit louder, it’s the nicest ‘fuck you,’ you’ve ever heard. Its tone has a hint of sincerity in tandem with humor in just the same way you delivered your line. He shakes his head, “You’re silly.”

He lets you go and you turn away, but it’s only just a little. He watches how the ribbon lays right where he put it again, seeing the side of your face light up with your rosy smile as you sway your head. You’re trying to not make it obvious that you want to feel the wag of the bow and your hair back there so you do it slowly, it just feels so cool and so pretty. You liked it so much. You didn’t even know what it looked like yet, but it already made you feel more like yourself. Like a part of you that had left before this world began— it fit well like a missing piece finally snapping into place. It was your unique touch and he found it for you. He did it for you. Just for you.

For me, you repeated it in your mind, he found it just for me.

Trinket No. 2: The Lesson ō͡≡o˞̶ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Turnpikes, Gunshots, and Dreams

You had asked and asked for weeks with no let up. It made you start getting creative with your pleas: “You know, Daryl, we really should be teaching each other our skills,” you had insisted, sarcasm lining your voice. No one else in the group knew how to ride yet they were doing just fine, but you were incessant, “You never know what kind of situation we’ll be in where we might need it… I could die,” your hands raise as your voice does, “and your bike could be my only escape but I wouldn’t even know how to ride it!”

He would always just stare at you blankly, ignoring you, especially when you got dramatic like this right before you two were leaving. “Get on or stay,” he would say, “go help Rosita or somethin’.”

You’d grit your teeth and get on regardless.

But then one day, one lucky, lucky day for you— it was your earnest approach, and your silly smile, and sun-filled eyes that got the best of him as they looked up to meet his darker ones. “Please,” you said, stretching out the word, it was just as cheesy as your smile. He looked back at you from his front seat as you continued, “I just want to feel capable and- free… I don’t know,” but you did, you meant it and felt it from deep inside you. “To know I have the option I wanted to… I… I didn’t really have those before.”

He was still for a moment and then he nodded, restarting the ignition. You guessed that was another no until you started to ride past the walkers that lined the outer gate. “An hour,” he said, his eyes forward as the trees became a blur to both of you, “then we gotta get work done.” You wrapped your arms around him tightly, you only used to cup his waist or hold his shoulders, but you felt fearless today, head leaning against his back and neck, arms hugging around his torso. He finally said yes.

As time went by, you had gotten comfortable with completing your drills. You learned the controls, how to shift gears, how to waddle and power walk with the bike, operate the clutch, throttle, and lift your feet up, riding on a straight path all by yourself. Turns were still hard though, and the fact that Daryl always insisted you think about the worst-case scenario wasn’t the greatest either. He’d look you dead in the eye, his voice clear and unrestrained from his usual grovels as he said, “If a herd is comin’, or people are shooting, or if there’s something tryin’ to crash into you, you need to think about how you’re going down. Decide on what won’t fuck you up completely, then do it. ” He always got way too close to your face without realizing it in those moments, his finger almost crashing into your nose as he vigorously pointed to get the idea across.

“If something goes down, I’m not arguing,” you say. “You'll be in front.” You meant it, your voice was quiet, you understood.

But really, you didn’t: “If something go down, either of us should be able to do it.” He paused to make sure you got it this time, “That's the point.”

As if you didn’t already sense it, this was the first time you absolutely understood that Daryl was serious when he decided to do anything. Full commitment. Start to finish. You said you wanted to learn, that you wanted to be capable, then that’s exactly what he was going to teach you. You would take it seriously too.

Soon enough, Daryl allowed you to ride out of the gates of Alexandria first instead of switching off after you got a few miles out. You were getting better. So much so that today would be a different day, he explained. Daryl wanted you to ride to the Hilltop. This would be the longest distance you’ve ever rode. A whole 23 miles. But before you guys got there he would steer you in the direction of a turnpike: he wanted to practice speed, and most crucially for you, right and left turning.

His weapons and guns were strapped to his lower body, some on his thigh holster, and a machine gun over his back, all just in case, and his hold on your waist was fixed as you rode. It made you feel like a child and such a little teenager all in one with how excited you would get. Not only were you becoming skilled at riding a whole fucking motorcycle, but you were the one he was holding onto this time and it was the longest amount of time he was holding you at that.

As you reached the turnpike, he guided you around the semi-circular road. Continuing on, you saw a few walkers in the distance. He told you to speed up, there was enough space on the road and there were only four of them, they were far away anyway.

You looked back at your surroundings, other than those four, the road was pretty clear other than some broken down, discarded cars. This accidentally became a lesson on tight turns and swerving too.

Some of your turns were abrupt as you tried to go around the cars, it made you nervous. You knew it was okay not to be perfect, but it was still a little stressful to make mistakes when a master was watching behind you.

“Relax,” he’d tell you, sometimes putting his hands over yours on the handles and helping you out. “You got it.”

You went on and as the walkers approached closer, an idea arose. It was probably irresponsible, but you joked anyway, “Daryl,” you whisper-shouted with fake suspense, getting his attention. “We’re on a mission. Got to take those guys out before they get to Rick!”

He chuckled a bit, shaking his head. He leaned in closer as you leaned forward, gaining speed. One arm wrapped around your hips in totality, hand placed firmly there as the other reached for his gun, extending his arm out as you two got closer to the walkers. You two turned to face them as Daryl pulled the trigger: one shot each, straight in the head, “Got ‘em.”

You gasp, your laughter sounding so wild and fun and unrestrained in a way it hasn’t been heard by either of you before. “Is it bad if I say I hope we find another one?!”

“No, that was fun,” he agrees understatedly, trying not to fully give in. You couldn’t even see his face, yet he was trying to hide a smile.

And you were too. It was all too much honestly. You were balancing riding and having Daryl right behind you, holding onto you, trusting you to do something he’s never let anyone else do before; and you just proved you both could probably kill it in a high stakes situation. Well, maybe not, this was very, very low stakes, but still, it made you believe. You decided to ride the high, quite literally as you kept going, shouting back: “Imagine us in battle?”

Oh, wait— your grin fades slightly, you immediately regretted it after you said it. The point of this life was to try to find a way to live, not always fighting to survive. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say.

The silence makes you feel like an idiot until Daryl speaks up, both hands now on your hips, thumbs pressing into your back, “If we were in battle,” he almost whispers into your ear, “we’d be their worst fuckin’ nightmare.”

You feel your smile practically reaching your ears. “We’re a team,” you say, the humor coming back to your face now, the shine in your teeth reflecting the sun as it always does. “A dream team.”

A dream… Maybe. You definitely were at least, but that is a thought he doesn’t let come to the forefront. He let it go. But it was true… something about you felt unreal to him. The way you wanted to be around him this much, so interested in the things he does; he still didn’t get it, it almost felt unbelievable. He wondered when it was going to stop. When he would wake up. He didn’t want to wake up. The thought grows, he can’t avoid it now: you are a dream. One he didn’t even know he wanted.

Trinket No. 3: Lucky Charms ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Flying Away With You

You gasp excitedly, “The Eiffel Tower!” You hold the bottom up to the light as he still holds the top. “Nice,” you say with bright eyes, “I found the Statue of Liberty in the mom’s jewelry box and a few others that weren’t on her charm bracelet.” You showed him the mother’s sterling silver and he showed you the daughter’s that he found. “I guess they were traveling family… or wanted to be.” You feel a heaviness behind your eyes after you say it.

You loved collecting these charms, but sometimes there was a sadness to it. Like you were collecting other people's tokens, little pieces of their personalities and their stories, keeping it as your own. It almost felt invasive. But it was something that you and Daryl did together. You liked that. Another thing that made you feel close to him… Maybe this was like keeping their memory alive? You may not have known them or know what happened to them, but you were giving something that they loved new life. The charms did make you happy, after all. Especially because it was Daryl that got you into it. But it was also you who got Daryl into it too.

You both can recall the first day it all started: He found it incredulous that you cared more about a little piece of jewelry you saw in the dirt rather than the bigger thing that was right by it: the deer Daryl just shot, the one that you two had been tracking for what felt like hours.

His face twisted up to you as he collected his bolt from the body, “We just caught a deer, and you’re lookin’ at that?”

“We just caught a deer for the first time in months and this was right by them… it’s literally good luck!” You held the gold sun charm to the actual light source it was designed after, “Look at us… Lucky charm, dream team, remember?” Your smile was just so wide after you said it, he let his slight irritation go. It was easy actually, he was always taken aback by that smile. It still wasn’t that long ago when he thought you weren’t the type to do so, like him most of the time. He had only seen you sad, but now, I’m Alexandria, you just glowed. Eyes and an essence as bright as the sun, and that smile, all teeth and just as pearly as the moon… The charm was perfect for you and it needed its match. Maybe a star too. He would find it.

He still remembers where he found those. He came across a silver crescent moon necklace discarded on the floor of a girl’s bedroom. It was simplistic, like one or those expensive necklaces that shouldn’t even be that expensive because of how small it was, but it was a perfect charm size, and it shined, there were no scratches. In the other girl’s room in the house, probably the younger sister, there was a charm bracelet on the desk. It was kind of childish and clunky, like one you could get in those supermarket toy vending machines. He took the first charm he touched and removed the clasp from it for your moon. It was hard to do it with his fingers on something so small and dainty but after a few tries, he managed.

As for the star, he found it on a walker in the woods. It was a little girl, it almost made him feel bad to do it because he knew you’d feel bad about it, but her and what looked like her mom and dad went straight for the two rabbits he just caught, ripping their skin, eating them. He shot them all in the head. The thud of their bodies to the ground only seconds apart. Oh well, were his thoughts, their fault for messing with his catch. After that is when he noticed the gold charm bracelet on the kid’s wrist. It was different from the one he saw last time in that other girl’s room, it wasn’t a fake toy, it was more refined. Maybe they were a well-off family.

There was a star was at the center. It’s all he wanted, but he thought you might want to see the others she had too— they were all nature themed, he kind of liked it— so he tried to take the bracelet off but it wasn’t working. The thing fit her wrist perfectly and the bracelet clasp was stuck so, in typical Daryl fashion… he just chopped the girl's hand off.

Kind of gross, and he would definitely have to keep the red off of everything now, but the star charm was gold, it would match the sun charm and the moon would stand out at the center, he assumed. He thought it could look nice… and beggars can’t be choosers in the apocalypse anyway. After he took the bracelet he discarded of the hand, tossing it to the ground like it was nothing. (He’d leave that part out if you asked for the story later). Now that he had the bracelet, you would also have a gold owl, a bunny, a bird, and if it couldn’t get any better, there was a deer charm too. That’s what was most important about the account anyway.

That night, Daryl crawled into your bedroom from the window while you were asleep. He placed the star and moon on top of your journal that was on your desk, and after that, he left. That was it. He just wanted to surprise you. He’d give you the rest later. You only realized he did it and how he did it when you closed your window that was slightly left open the next day. There were scuff marks on the window sill. They were from his shoes.

After that it became a game; a little side quest. Like how people would count red versus blue cars or shout ‘punch buggy,’ when they are out with their family. An activity that took you out of your boredom, or really, for you in the apocalypse, it was an activity that made you feel oddly sane again, since you always dealt with the insane everyday anyway.

That was what today was about. At least on the down low; at least after you found anything of value for the community; at least to you two. You guys had found what seemed to be a wealthy neighborhood a while ago, when you passed that turnpike. The houses there were so big there, but all you had was his bike at the time, nowhere to put supplies and you were expected at the Hilltop, you couldn’t stay and look around.

It had been a little while after that and you had a plan now, a few Alexandrians backing you up with cars. You two finished your portion of houses to sweep and now you were waiting on the others, sitting in one of the house porches. That’s why you both were showing each other your finds from this place and the others.

You continued to hold the Eiffel Tower charm in your hand, “Maybe we should go to Paris…” Your voice was wistfully, then a quietness lingered in the air, it made you laugh awkwardly, releasing the tension. Your suggestion was one of those silly things you say where you mean it, but you pretend it’s just a joke, knowing it won’t have any outcome. “All of us, I mean,” you do mean it, but at the same time you we’re just talking about him right now. “That would be nice.”

“What would I do in Paris?” He asks it while he fixes his weapons, you’re sitting back, looking at the trees. He thought it was a ridiculous idea. He’s never been anywhere. He hadn’t even been to Virginia or D.C. before this and there’s no way he could go anywhere else now.

“Well I guess we’re never going to know unless we find out… you can eat!” You laugh, “You do like eating.”

He snorts, “Who knows if there’s food left there.”

Pessimist. “Again— we’re never going to know unless we find out.”

“Have fun tryin’ to become a pilot,” his drawl comes out strong on that last word. “Or a plane.”

“I guess that’s the next charm we need to find, an airplane or a captain’s hat. I am a pilot… or I can pretend to be.” There’s that smile again, “I can do anything.”

“Bet you could.” He meant it.

You nod, your next words making you laugh at yourself, “I’m Barbie.”

“Better,” he mutters. You can barely hear it. You don’t know if it was real so you say nothing until—

“We’re going to travel the world some day, Daryl.” You say it so surely, breaking the moment of silence, “We’ll find a way.” As long as we’re together. As long as you want me.

That’s all you wanted, truly. Even if this world really couldn’t take you to Paris, or New York, or anywhere out of Virginia. All you wanted was him. All you wished and hoped for is that he wanted you… but did he? You still weren’t sure.

Trinket No. 4: The Flower and the Photograph 𓇢𓆸

Back Pocket Memory

You two were almost near Alexandria, only a few miles left to drive. “Do you think we can just sit down over there before heading back?”

Daryl continued driving, “Dangerous to leave a good van with supplies just put.”

You pointed to the clearing you were referring to ahead. The trees were sparse in that area, it might have been a meadow, but you didn’t know the difference. There was a little pond near the center. “Can we just drive the car a little bit closer? Just for a few minutes?” You look up at him, your eyes doing that little sunshine thing as it always does, “I just want to sit in the grass,” you say, putting your hand out the window, feeling the wind through your fingers, “the sky feels so nice today.”

He huffs, but does as you ask. “Get out,” he says, gesturing to you to walk over to the area you pointed at. “Pick your spot.” You run over and he follows. You have this wonder about you, it was almost childlike, but not childish, more— sweet, innocent perhaps.

You jump down to the ground and cross your legs on the grass, looking out at the pond. Daryl parks the car a little behind you and comes out to sit on the hood. His legs spread, knees almost to his chest, his elbows lay on there, arms extended.

You look at him, “You’re really not going to sit down?”

“If someone comes up behind us and steals our shit then that’s gonna be your fault.”

Fair. You gesture at him to move over and you sit to his side on top of the car.

As you settle, you close your eyes and you raise your face to the sky. Feeling the warmth of the sun on your closed eyelids. There was a majestic kind of wind that blew in the air today. It made everything look effortless, especially Daryl.

His ever-so disheveled hair had pieces flying on both sides, brushing some parts out of his face, and pushing others in. As always, it was just enough that they didn’t completely cover his eyes. How does that always happen? Thinking about it makes you giggle lightly as you look at him.

“What?” He asks, becoming a little self conscious.

You shake your head, your eyes looking at him kindly, hoping to ease his nerves. “You just look nice.” Your voice was silvery and sweet as you said it.

You get up and skip toward the pond, picking a flower and coming back to him. You sit down and try to put the tiniest white flower behind his ear.

“What’re you doin’?” He tries to swat it away, playfully hitting your other hand that tries to hold him in place and he takes the flower from your other hand. He successfully places it behind your ear instead. “Better,” he says.

As he looks at you, he notices light pieces of your hair frizzing up at the top from the wind, other pieces at the bottom still moving around slightly. It didn’t look bad, to him, your hair looks more like that invisible halo he sees when you’re around, and with that flower in your hair, you look like a true angel or maybe even a fairy with all the greenery surrounding you. You’re just lovely.

You give him a closed smile, your head falling to your knees. “Pretty day,” you sigh contentedly.

Pretty girl.

Handsome man.

Then a thought comes. Your smile turning to a grin.

“What?” He asks sharply. He knows the look you get when you’re up to something at this point.

You grab your backpack from your side, slowly bringing out the polaroid camera you found earlier today.

“No,” he pushes the side of your face, already detesting the idea.

“Daryl,” you whine.

He says it straight this time, “No.”

“But…” your eyes trail his face for a moment before continuing, “you just look… I don’t know. It’s like I said, you just look so- nice.” There’s other words you could use, but you don’t, not yet. “I just think it would be nice to have a nice picture. All we take pictures of is the houses and work. It’s boring and a waste.” You pause, “Daryl… Please?”

He rolls his eyes, grumbling, “You first.”

He’s glad no one was around when these moments happened. Someone might think you had him completely whipped. His brother definitely would think so if he was still around. Daryl was almost embarrassed of himself because of it. But you don’t ask for much. Other than the bike thing, you really didn’t. You trusted him and you were patient. You went along with his plans and you could sit for long car rides and periods of time in quietness if that’s what he wanted. You never pushed him to tell you his story. He only knew a part of yours circumstantially and he didn’t push you for more details after he brought you home, so you did the same. He could feel you wanted to ask more questions, but he also saw you stop yourself, move on, you were creative with your conversation topics: you asked him about what the best thing he hunted was, or what his favorite things were about your friends. You were so gentle with him. Maybe you could get him to do almost anything you wanted without you even knowing, but it was worth it for someone like you.

You look down shyly, “I’m not good at pictures,” you admit.

“You’ll look fine.” He wanted to say something else, but he didn’t. You’re so alike, more than you know.

He tilted your jaw with his thumb. It was too quick for you to melt into it but the feeling lingered, it made you buzz with excitement and it was easy to smile after that. He looked through the viewfinder, seeing you do that pretty sunny smile, matching the yellow bud of the white flower. He clicked the button. Beautiful.

You snatch the camera instantly, “Your turn!” You were too eager but you didn’t care.

You take the flower from your hair and bring it toward him. He sucks his teeth, saying your name as he does so, “No!”

“Yes, Daryl!” You push it over his ear, but not before he pushes you knee, just to do it. He didn’t even know why he was fighting, he knew he was letting you have your way right now. “Look,” you sound like a school teacher, “very nice.”

You even out some of the frizzy parts at the top of his head, the light wind was still blowing through it, it was futile so you left it, he looked great anyway. A perfectly imperfect mess.

He crossed his arms over his knees and looked into your eyes. You held the camera to your face and snapped the shot. “Beautiful.”

You stare at him for a moment longer. If anyone else was here that could see those all to familiar hearts and stars around you and in your eyes, it was so hard to hide. “I’m keeping this,” you said, placing the polaroid delicately in your back pocket. He said nothing, he wasn’t going yo let you know he cared about a dumb picture. “Okay, thank you for indulging me,” you start, taking the flower from his ear, “let’s go home.”

Later that night, past one am, he came through your window again. But this time you saw. Your head was almost covered by the blankets, your eyes slightly open. He didn’t even look in your direction. Maybe he wanted to be quick.

You saw him go into your bookbag. It was hanging on your desk chair. He took the picture out. He wanted it. He wanted your picture. The one that matched yours of him. Maybe this was something. Maybe he did want you.

You closed your eyes quickly when he started to turn around, then watched as quietly as you could as he neared the window, starting to climb out but not before he placed the polaroid in his back pocket, just like you did. Now you both had a piece of each other, forever.

Trinket No. 5: The Music Player and the Wish on an Eyelash ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻ ♬♪

Never Fade Away

It’s official, in all the ways it possibly could be: Alexandria was truly your home. More time has passed: you live in a house, you have a job, you have family— it’s your friends. In some ways things are better than they have ever been… yet you still think about the night and the dark just as much as you used to. You tried to hide it, you wanted to be grateful and you were. But the things that used to happen to you, and the people that hurt you… they still lingered like ghosts when night came.

In the closed and guarded walls of your community, you hoped night could be a time and place that was peaceful. But thoughts of an attack, thoughts of losing your first real home, it left you apprehensive and paranoid of what could happen in your vulnerable state. And when you close your eyes, sometimes the past visits your dreams. It all felt inescapable.

It makes you so fearful that despite keeping your window’s curtain open, a battery-powered lantern resides practically glued to your nightstand— always on when the sun goes down. You knew it was a waste of a resource, but at least you kept it on low, at least when you woke up in the middle of the night, closer to morning really, you remembered to turn it off— the sun making its way back around soothed your nerves; it was always that initial getting-to-sleep part that made you need it anyway.

And of course, you’ve tried to calm yourself down at night using different methods to see what stuck: You do read— your neighbors were always kind enough to lend whatever books were in their houses— and you did daydream— letting your mind wander to happier, more wondrous places when you wanted to escape— and it did help sometimes, but on other nights, it wasn’t enough.

You miss watching tv in bed. There was something about the buzz of the box, and the voices of humor and romance and relatability that miraculously took you away, and helped you stop thinking, even allowed you to drift to sleep… it was a luxury you didn’t have anymore, and not only did you not have that luxury, you also had an overabundance of dead or deadly issues to worry about. It all haunted you.

You sat with your back against the headboard of the bed. You’ve yet to put on any night clothes. You had already read the next chapter of your book, and you would have read another, and possibly another after that, but tonight you knew it would have just kept you awake as something to do instead of worrying about sleep. You were tired though. That’s why you stopped, but you also weren’t ready for trying to catch sleep that wouldn’t come.

Part of you hoped Daryl would stop by, but he doesn’t always, and he probably won’t tonight. Some nights he’s out until the next day or the next week, who knows how far he went this time, you didn’t go with him and he left too quickly to ask. It had been a few days since you saw him last.

When he was here though, he did start to make it a habit of stopping by to see you, especially when it was time for Alexandrians to settle into their homes for the night. He stopped being so quiet through the window and only dropping things off. He would start coming through the door. It was just a light chat for a couple of minutes at first, then there were the times when he stayed an hour or two. He always sat on your floor, by the window, or by the door. You never understood why until you insisted he sit in your chair by the closet. It was only until a few more visits later you realized the chair's light color becoming just a bit visibly darker. It was soot and hard work and the air, he worked outside all day and usually visited before he called it a night. You made sure not to mention it, you just cleaned it yourself. No need for him to feel embarrassed.

Besides, you didn't mind, anytime he walked through your door or jumped in from your window, that was his chair, at least that’s what you called it in your head. You liked that. You liked that after he brought you home he didn’t move on and let you be. In his defense, you didn’t let him be either, but he could have always distanced himself if he wanted to, told you no, but he didn’t.

You two have gotten so close quite quickly. You both felt it and you didn’t know why, but at the same time, you did. It was something left unspoken, even in your mind, always on the side toward the back of your brain. That part knew you could fall in love with him, but why admit it to yourself if the other person might not feel the same? You were still feeling that way. Despite all the moments you’ve shared thus far. His silent nature was endearing at times, but it could also be a very confusing gripe of yours. There were moments when you knew exactly where his mind was, but there were other times when you simply did not. Especially when it came to you. Daryl always gave you just enough, and maybe tonight, it would be nothing at all.

At least that’s where your thoughts resided until you heard the creak of your door slowly pushing inward.

Daryl’s hand holds the doorknob, meeting your eyes as he steps in further. Your window casting just enough light on his face.

“Hi,” you meant to be clever, ask him if he knew how to knock, but only wistful, subdued surprise is all that came out in your one-word greeting.

“Hey,” he replied, it almost seemed like he was surprised too, you couldn’t tell it from his voice but from the way he cut the word short. “Didn’t know if you were awake.”

You laugh somberly, “You didn’t?”

“Didn’t see you in the window.”

His voice is low, your house is quiet, and people are asleep in the other rooms. You match his tone with your own quietness, “Right,” you say. The window did hit the bed end, not the top. But he knew you were a late sleeper. He even came and sat with you for longer the night before he left because you had told him about it— he knew, he had to, but you didn’t question it.

“Um,” he’s looking down, “Was just gonna leave somethin’.”

He starts to walk to your nightstand but you stop him, your hand reaching out, not touching him, but it’s just enough to pull him to your gaze. “You’re gonna leave without showing me?”

Daryl positions himself toward you and you sit up. Gingerly, he takes something small out of his front pocket, it was covered in one of his bandanas. He looks at it for a moment, almost unsure before placing it on the bed, right in front of your lap.

It was an MP3 player. One of those slim rectangular ones with a digital rectangular screen to match and a big circular button with the controls covering the bottom half. There were some small scratches in the screen corners and some dent marks in the back. The arrow buttons were starting to fade too, but he handed you some headphones out of his back pocket as you continued to examine it, it must have worked.

You look up at him, eyes wide, shining just a bit in the dark just like the little silver miracle that was in your hands. You remembered having one of these, the thought made your lips curl, a light open-mouthed smile forming as the nostalgia set in.

You move closer to the edge of the bed, the sky illuminating you more in your semi-darkened room. You place your hand on the other end of your bed, “Come,” you say as your tap the spot. He’s hesitant before he finally accepts the invitation, sitting down. You would have insisted anyway if he didn’t.

You flip the switch on the side then and the music starts instantly in your right ear where you set one of the earbuds in. You tried to put the left on him, but he shook his hand, “You listen.” You let him be for now, you were too excited to see what the previous owner was into.

The songs are scattered from different decades, but what you notice the most of as you skip through were various 90s and 2000s rock, pop-punk, pop, and the like. There was Nirvana, but also Fiona Apple to Blondie, and even Elvis. It was a little all over the place, really. This definitely had to be a teen’s in the early or late aughts. You thought maybe Carl would like this. There was even some stuff that you were sure had to have come out in 2010, right before the apocalypse began… Another kid who wouldn’t get to spend the rest of their teens, or young adulthood, or adult life like they were supposed to, like you were supposed to.

Having these thoughts while Aerosmith’s Fly Away From Here played was not helping, especially since it made you think of your lost family, and those from your found family that were gone now too, so you decided to skip, but the button seemed to fidget. You tried again, then again, even touching the screen. You accidentally made the shuffle icon come onto the bottom corner.

“Don’t like Aerosmith?” Daryl read it on the screen, but he also recalled the melody, even from just the soft buzz produced by the headphones, the volume was accidentally turned all the way up, you set it down.

You give him a light smile, “Aerosmith’s fine. Just have to be a little more careful with this, I guess.”

You continue to press forward to see what else is there until you shriek, color coming back to your face as you shake your head at the memory emerging as you listen. “Oh my god, my sibling used to love this song when we were younger.” It was Avril Lavigne’s Girlfriend that was playing. “We used to put on the radio or look up the music videos on the tv and dance. They loved doing that…” Your voice was soft, both sweet yet desolate, “I knew all the popular songs and all their favorite songs whether I liked it or not.” You giggle, “I can lie this one is fun.”

You knew Daryl would probably scoff, but you lightly place the left earbud near his ear for a few seconds so he can hear what you’re talking about.

“Definitely a chick’s.”

“‘Chick’?” It was funny, and you did laugh, but you still decide to protest, “It’s just one song and…I don’t know, I think it’s a pretty eclectic mix of artists…” You continue to press forward as you ask, “Were there kids? Or- did there used to be?”

“Based on the rooms.” He nods, “Boy and a girl.”

“Hm,” you say curiously, flipping through the songs: the next one that played was by Linkin Park, then Alanis Morisette… you wondered if the kids shared it or shared interests. Suddenly, the player starts Lit’s My Own Worst Enemy. Your eyes are starlit as you gasp, “Oh, this one is so you.”

This time you fully push the headphone into his left ear, turning the volume all the way up as the first verse plays, his face is fixed, “This ain’t me.” There is silence as the music continues and he scorns, “You think I used to just get drunk all the time?”

“Daryl,” your laugh is light, “no.” It was a ridiculous thought and he should know it, but nonetheless, you console him, “Of course not.” Your hand reaches forward onto the bed, nearing where his own resided, but not touching. It saddened you to see Daryl always react like this to small things. He was never judgmental, but he was always so quick to believe others would judge him. “Maybe not that part,” you smile, slightly mischievous, “but- okay, this-” you sing-speak along lightly, remembering to stay quiet, “it’s no surprise to me I am my own worst enemy, cause every now and then I kick the living shit out of me- that's you! That's literally you.”

He shakes his head, ‘Whatever,’ the gesture says with his grunt.

“No, you’re actually a little bit self-deprecating, I think. At least internally.” You continue, “Oh, and this part— I didn't mean to call you that- you see?” You say, humor still in your smile, “That part is you.”

Daryl gives you another small grunt indicating ‘no’ as he shakes his head again. “If I say something to someone, then I mean it. Wouldn’t say it if I don’t.”

“Well, you also mean a lot of what you don’t say,” your eyes trail to the side. You knew that didn’t make sense, but it did to you. There was a part of you that was still in denial of your feelings or if there was a possibility he had any for you either. You’d never see him talk or treat anyone in a more than friendly way– or whatever Daryl’s version of friendly was. You wanted to protect yourself by not admitting you adored him, even to yourself, but really, you knew. And there was the way he kept giving you these things, these little moments: the ribbon, the picture, the charms… It made that smaller part of you that believed something was there, glow and warm inside your heart.

You look at him, there was a sorrow placed on both of your faces, but he just looks at his hand that is placed on the bed through his hair, the one that's so close to yours. “You really don’t think there is anything you don’t regret saying?” Another song passes, you didn’t recall it, but then the playlist shifts to something slower, it’s the Beatles. “I just think you keep a lot inside… It’s okay though. But it is just something I notice.”

Normally, a comment like this or something similar to it would sound trite and judgmental, there are a lot of things people don’t talk about now, but you say it with understanding, a little sad because you can’t help it, but your voice is kind, like gentle fingers through his hair, evening it out; a voice that shows you care, you see him and respect him even if you do want more. “It’s okay,” you whisper as Paul McCartney’s voice sings softly, “I’m not half the man I used to be, there’s a shadow hanging over me.” It felt like he was speaking right to Daryl as he continued to look away from you.

It’s moments like this where he wants to say it all. The sad stories from his childhood that he has never been able to tell anyone before. Stories about his brother… the bad, yes, but even some of the good ones. He knows he could talk to Rick if he wanted, or Carol. His group was loyal to him as much as he was to them– he knew that, but they probably wouldn’t care to hear about Merle, it would probably make them angry to be reminded of all the bad things he’s done to them. He wouldn’t blame them. In many ways, and for more reasons then all of them, he will always be angry at his brother too. This is why he didn’t even like to let himself think about the past, but in other ways, it still sucked. It makes him feel alone, like talking about himself or his brother or the past was just a gateway to hurting himself and scaring others, scaring you.

You wipe him away from those thoughts even though you didn’t even hear them, your voice pulling him out of his trance, “Things are harder now, Daryl, but I think you’ve only gotten better.” There is still so much you don’t know, but nonetheless, it’s like you can read his mind.

“This is the only me you know.”

“And even then I don’t think you’re the man I met when you found me… We’re definitely not the same people.” Your hand is just inches from his fingertips now. “We all have things to improve on, even if we think we’ve already grown up. I think that’s a part of growing up actually… just realizing that you never do, or at least not entirely. You’re always going to continue to grow.” Your words linger in the air as the next song starts, it’s Paramore, it’s The Only Exception— something still laced with melancholia but it has a sweet gentleness to it. It's just like you. This is how you were trying to be with your words. “It’s better if you allow it though, or work toward it instead of against it, I think.” You laugh at yourself then, “But I'm far from perfect so I should really stop talking.” Blush creeps onto your cheeks, you’re hopeful the night’s light doesn’t show it too much.

He wishes he could tell you he thinks you’re perfect, or at least something close to it. At least for him. You truly were like an angel. Maybe Radiohead is on this too.

The chorus continues to play, leading to the song’s ending and his jaw tightens. It’s annoying that you were right, your words from before echo to him. They weren’t nonsensical, he did get it: he does mean the things he never says as much as the things he does, but no one will ever get to know. Not that everyone has to, but maybe for you, maybe just a little, maybe you can be the exception. And he can tell that you’re trying to me: who carries around a silly little ribbon anyway? Or who keeps their window open almost every night, even on cold nights? He felt like he was failing you. Maybe these gifts and these small moments weren't enough. Maybe they were just trinkets; meaningless, giving you false hope for a love he couldn’t provide.

You both hear the outro, “Oh, and I’m on my way to believing,” and his heart pangs at that. Maybe he doesn’t have to fail, maybe he can try, at least right now, “It’s just…” he speaks up, his voice clears, “It made me think of you when I saw it.” He was talking about the mp3, “That’s why I brought it back… You’re always humming under your breath. Now you can stop annoying me with the same old thing.”

Your eyes roll, but you aren’t mad, in fact, you can't help that it makes you smile. “Oh, okay, Daryl,” you say through quiet bits of laughter.

“Also thought it could help you sleep… I dunno.”

You nod intently at his words, “Thank you,” and that wistfulness in your voice returns. “That's really kind.”

He nods back. He’s so gruff and straight-faced all the time, but was it bad to say that there were moments when you can't help but see him as adorable? He was always trying not to meet your gaze through his hair, and it was always messy like a kid’s, just like when you took that photograph.

Muse’s Starlight starts playing as you brush some of the hair out of his face. It's an awkward transition, but it's what you get from accidentally pressing shuffle so many times. In the end, though, the words make it seem perfect for the moment. The singer spoke of desire and escape, about missing loved ones and wanting to keep someone special, someone that's like starlight, close by. You understood that. He did too.

You giggle lightly, “Daryl, you- you have something…” You point at your face in reflection of his.

“What?” He wipes his nose.

“No, it's- it’s here,” you say, taking your finger to lightly catch the eyelash that threatened to slip away from his face and onto the bed. “Make a wish,” you whisper. Your face is nothing short of innocence and wonder.

His snorts, “I’m not doin’ that.”

“Daryl,” you eyes widened with apparent prodding and pleading annoyance, but your words still have a sense of amusement to them, “I think we need all the luck we can get.” Your head tilts as you say through your smiling teeth, “I’ll do it with you…?”

“Fine.” He can’t help that your squeal makes his lips curl but he’s trying to hide it.

“You have to really do it.” You turn the music down, it's in the background now. Your usual sun-filled eyes are currently wide like the moon as you look into his, coming closer to his face.

He nods, “Okay.”

“Promise?” You sing.

“Promise.” He meant it, he even closed his eyes before you to prove it.

You closed your eyes too, “Okay, I’m trusting you.” Squeezing them tightly, you whisper, “Think about what you want, and then I'm going to count to three and we blow.”

Instantly, your heart foolishly thinks of Daryl. You know you could be thinking about the safety of your group, the stability of Alexandria, or hoping that the threat everyone feels coming subsides into nothingness, but all your thoughts are just of him. It makes you feel like a silly little girl, waiting for that big romantic confession of love that you dream about, the one that will probably never come.

I wish for you, you think. You can’t help it, you can’t say anything else, this is the only thing that’s true, I just wish to stay by your side, forever.

The song echoes your hopes too, I’ll never let you go if you promise not to fade away.

You agree, never fade away, please.

“Okay,” you say softly aloud, “1… 2… 3…” And then your wish flies into the air. You two stare at each other afterwards, eyes starry like the sky from your window.

You wished for each other.

Trinket No. 6: Scars, Marks, Tattoos, and Internal Wounds ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The Things I Only Trust You to Know

It’s another night. Another visit. It wasn’t intentional this time, but your curtains were drawn. They’re almost never drawn, at least not completely. The window was still open though, the night’s breeze ruffled them backwards. Daryl became concerned, so he climbed up, opening the window wider and pushing the curtains to the side to get through.

He saw you crying.

Hearing the thud of his boots stomp lightly to the ground triggered you to turn, body facing the closet as you were curled in your bed. You didn’t want him to see you. “I’m tired tonight, Daryl.” Your voice was low, you tried to keep in neutral. For the most part you were doing well, but it was still obvious you weren’t fine— he saw your face before you covered it.

He sat down on the edge of your bed, his legs hitting by your feet. He didn’t feel like asking if you were okay if you were going to lie and say no. “You can tell me to go if you want,” was all he said, rubbing your arm as he did and then let go. You starting sniffling involuntarily because of the touch. You realized you were holding in a breath, the shaky exhale came out louder than you wished it did. “I’m sorry,” your voice blubbering. You were embarrassed. You hadn’t done this in front of him since before he brought you home.

“Don’t gotta be.”

“I feel stupid,” you say under your breath. You’re still trying to hide your face.

“Stop.” He puts his hand over your body now, on the bed, and he faces you. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head slowly, looking at him, “I don’t know how to say. I can’t-”

“Just say it,” he said calmly.

You felt heat rising from your throat, it was like the words were trying to come out, but it felt scary to do so, it made your teeth grind against each other. Your head shakes harder, “I don’t think I can.”

He brings a hand to your face and wipes some of your tears with his thumb, “What would you tell me?”

You would tell him to speak, that it’s okay, you both knew it. The thought makes you sit up in your bed, tears still running down your cheeks, but you were going to try.

“You’re just going to get annoyed,” you wipe some of your tears with your wrist, “think I’m dumb, like a little girl.”

“You’re not dumb,” he spoke over you before you finished.

You pause, you shake your head again. The words are on your tongue but you just feel so bad and so embarrassed to admit it. “Sometimes I just…” your voice hitches and your hands goes to your head, more tears fall, “it’s just one of those days, I guess.”

One of Daryl’s hands goes to your shoulder and your upper back, he pats you until it quickly becomes a soft, swaying motion.

Your voice doesn’t go above the lightest whisper as you try to start again, “Sometimes- I just look at myself and I-” a sob erupts from your throat and tears roll much quicker, “I know you’re going to think I’m stupid, but sometimes I just wonder if anyone could love me.” It doesn’t even feel good to finally admit it, but you continue, “I feel like there’s something wrong with me. Like maybe I’m not enough. Or I’ll never be.”

Daryl’s face heats up. How could you ever feel that way about yourself? How do you not see yourself as anything less than everything he’s seen in you since the day he met you? You’re not stupid. Never. He feels stupid for not seeing this in you. He feels stupid for it being so hard for him to tell you everything wonderful about yourself in the way you deserve.

He thinks for a moment, he wishes he was more poetic, but he wasn’t and there are still certain things he’s not ready to say. So he decides on something else as he calls your name, “You’re telling me you can’t see you’re a tough son of a bitch?” The phrase makes you laugh involuntarily through your tears, he always says it like it’s one word. “One that found a way to burn down a hospital and kill a bunch of dickheads in one go just to stay alive?” He huffs, “Prettiest arsonist I’ve seen.”

You gasped but it made you smile lightly, it was funny. “I’m not an arsonist! And it was only part of the building.”

“Coulda fool me.” He tilts his head, “But you’re also probably one of the best scavengers we got. And you’re a good friend.” His hand travels to your knee, “You’re really good at talkin’ to people… and to me.”

You try to let his words fill you up but there is still doubt. “I don’t feel like pretty and really good are the right words.”

“Then you’re wrong.”

You shake your head.

He doesn’t get it, “Well, what do you see that I’m not?”

Your heart beats ferociously, you don’t move, you’re hesitant, you don’t know if this is right, but there is a part of your that wants to. “Can I show you something?” You asked.

He nods.

It’s scary, but you decide to trust him, showing him the part of yourself you felt most ashamed of. The part of you that you thought was unloveable.

But he sees nothing shameful, nothing bad, he just holds onto it or another part of you, caressing you gently. “You’re perfect,” he says, shrugging as if his words aren’t a big deal, but he knows they are. This is the first time he doesn’t keep a thought like this in his head anymore. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

He turns his back on you now, and he takes a breath, sighing deeply. You’re confused until he sighs and starts to speak; “When you were with those guys— and I know it ain’t the same, but— I know what it’s like. For people to use you.” He swallows hard, “I don’t like myself all the time neither.”

Your eyes widen. He was taking off his shirt. The first thing you see are tattoos, until your eyes travel to the other side, you see what he meant; the scars. “My dad. He was a drunk and a loser and an asshole.” Daryl's voice hitched, you couldn’t tell if he was crying or not, but you had never heard him like this before. “He did it to my brother too, Merle. But then he just left when he was old enough. Didn’t even give a shit that our dad was gonna do it to me,” there was anger in his voice. “He said he didn’t know,” and then he chokes on his words, “but how can I believe that? Thought it’d just skip a generation? He never changed. Neither of ‘em.” You wanted to hold him, but you didn’t know if it was too soon. He was still speaking, “Then when I got old enough, I left too. Some time later I started drifting ‘round with Merle, like that was gonna be any better… Two fucked up kids doing nothin’ with their fucked up lives.” His face turned to the side, you saw his profile, his eyes were red, “That’s what I did before Rick… You all were going to do good things with your life and I was gonna be nothing.”

“Daryl…” you were crestfallen, “I’m so sorry.” You held his arm, stroking it softly. “But you weren’t going to be nothing.”

“Yes, I was.”

“There is no thinking about what could have been. This is how life is. Maybe this was always going to happen,” your voice falters as you say it. “You’re not nothing. You’ve become everything to so many people.”

He turns his face back around and you look at his back again. It was difficult to look at, you won’t lie. Your heart sunk low, like it was being squeezed and brought down to the pit of your stomach to know that someone put him through this. Someone who was supposed to love him. Another tear escaped your eye at of the thought.

“Daryl,” you stutter meekly, “Is it okay if I hold you?”

His nod is so faint you barely see it, but he doesn’t say anything else so you believe it is a yes.

Your fingers ghost over his back until you let the tips of them finally lay on his skin.

His eyes wince and squeeze as he shutters despite your fingers trailing so tenderly. Your palm is now flat on his back as you move downwards and back up again. You kiss near his shoulder, right on the tip of his highest tattoo and then you wrap your arms around him, under his arms over his waist, and he holds your hands there.

You stay there for a long while, you don’t have a recollection of time. The moment feels like forever, although it is sad and you wished you weren’t discussing the things you were to get here, you don’t want it to end. “You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met,” you tell him.

It’s quiet until he says, “No,” disagreeingly, “You’re not brave just because you go through some shit.”

“But you still are,” you insist. “This happened to you and you chose to be the person you are now despite it. You became someone invincible.” You pressed him against you tighter, “I’m proud of you. Every day.”

Finally he turns around and takes you in his arms, your head now resting over his shoulder as your chests touch, closing the gap. You lay down on the bed and he stays on top of you. One hand plays with your hair and you continue to caress his back.

“I really like your tattoos,” you whisper, almost a giggle in your voice. “They look really good on you.”

He smiles a little. He never takes off his shirt so people barely see all the ones he has. He liked that you liked them. “Thank you,” he says.

“Do you want more? If you could?” You also want to ask why he got the ones he did, but the crying has made you sleepy and him being on top of you is making your mind hazy. “I wish I could,” is all you add.

He looks at you, “Maybe that’s the next thing we find.” He was talking about a tattoo gun, “That’s the kind of junk people don’t need now, we’ll look.”

He plays with your hair again, both your smiles are so innocent and lazy, you two would knock out soon, but it was nice to talk about something that used to be mundane for a moment.

“What if we do it and it turns out bad?”

“We’re not gonna find it tomorrow.”

“Right,” you say, moving on. “You know… I remember I used to be so scared of that stuff— needles and blood. I can imagine wincing just thinking about a needle touching me at the doctor’s… But now, I think that’s a pain I’d actually prefer… Rather than the other things we’ve gone through… If there ever was a choice like that.”

He agrees, “If there was a choice, I’d be covered by now.”

You two laugh at that, letting go of each other. Your bodies are on your sides, parallel to one another as you lay down. You’re on the side that faces the window and Daryl’s back is to it. He sees the moonlight illuminate your face because of it, the glow makes you look enchanting.

He wonders if you would get one— a tattoo, or another one, of this: of the moon; of the night where you showed each other parts of your bodies you wanted to hide, thinking they were flaws; of the night where you accepted each other fully despite it. Where he laughed and felt happy even after he shared something so dark. He almost never laughs or feels happiness in its totality, but with you, he does. It happened right now as he’s looking at you.

You see his face glistening in tandem with the white light that shines on you, it’s darker, but it’s still there. You were wondering the same exact thing.

Your eyes feel heavy now. They slowly flutter shut, but you try to keep them open. You don’t want him to leave. But he sees that your face dozing off, you’re tired, your eyes keep trying to close and close fully. He quietly gets up to go, but you stop him. Holding onto his forearm, sliding down to his hand. “Just stay,” you murmur, “please,” it’s light and dream-like. So he does. He doesn’t want to let go of your hand. He doesn’t want to let go of you.

You both stay at your sides, your intertwined hands at the center. He continues to look at you and you smile softly as your body finally allows your eyes to close shut. You drift swiftly to sleep. And he stays awake for a while longer, fixed on you and your slowing breath until sleep finds him too.

Daryl being right there, and you being right next to him, made everything infinitely better.

Despite it being vague on details, feel free to skip around areas of this one if you are not comfortable with reading about the reader being imprisoned at the Sanctuary.

Trinkets No. 7 & 8: The Second Ribbon and the First Kiss ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ જ⁀➴ -`♥︎´-

Confessions From a Broken Bowman and a Battered Beaut

It had taken a long while for you and Daryl to talk again after you escaped the Sanctuary.

The last time he saw you was through your tears as Negan’s men threw him in a van, your eyes bloodshot, wanting to scream and plead. He felt it was his fault that he didn’t fight harder; he felt that it was his fault that you were in there for so long; felt it was his fault that you were taken there in the first place. He couldn’t save Glenn— a burden he still carried so deeply, even after talking to Maggie— and that led to not being able to save you. He felt like he left you, not knowing you would have been in the same place he was if he didn’t escape before you got there. But what choice did he have? He didn’t know. And he doesn’t even know if it’s a good or bad thing to admit that in a heart beat, he would take another day of torture, of abuse and pain, if it meant he was with you, and you could make it out together. One more day for him would have been worth your days only adding up to one hand if it could. It would have been better than just waiting for you on the other side. Having to hide just so Negan wouldn’t find him and kill him and more of his friends because of it.

And even worse, what if he threatened Daryl with you instead? Especially since you were still there, with him. That’s part of the reason why Daryl wanted to blow up the Sanctuary. It would have just been one side. Just enough to cause the chaos you needed to run away from your captures and back home. You were fast enough, he knows you are, and you must have known all the exits by now. He tried to convince himself of it. Rick told him it was a bad idea, dangerous to do that to the workers, and most importantly to you— it too many what ifs if it didn’t work out— but what else was he supposed to do? He needed you out, and the Saviors to be gone. It felt like the only choice.

But then, Daryl saw your face. You got out, you didn’t need another fire. It must have been their first attack against the Sanctuary that helped.

Your breathing was so heavy when you finally stopped, you were running so fast, there were patches of dirt all over you, sweat dripping from your neck. It must have been fate that he, Tara, Micchone, and Rosita were right there on the other side, ironically trying to go back to the place you just escaped from.

All their guns were pointed in your direction. They heard the gunshots, they heard someone running. They instantly dropped everything when they saw that it was you.

It felt like the world turned in its full rotation in seconds, coming into a halt all in this moment. The woods, the running, the chance encounter— him; it’s like you were brought right back to the start.

He was speechless, stunned in a way he didn’t expect, mouth agape and yours the same. You didn’t know what to say and he didn’t know how to apologize in the way he felt he should, so you both just stood there. Tears started to well in your eyes. All he did in the end was look down.

This exchange of stares happened only in a mere matter of seconds until Rosita brought you in for a hug, cursing leaving even though she knew you didn’t have a choice, being so happy you were back, but for you it felt agonizingly long.

And for Daryl, it all felt endlessly hopeless. The reality that his plan probably could, or most definitely would have killed you sunk in. He was stupid for thinking that it could work. And seeing you in that wife's dress? A black bow tied to the back of your head? It was unbearable. He hates that he found it hard to even look at you.

The two other women welcomed you back, Michonne even looked teary eyed. The sight made some of your own tears fall because of it. She took you by the shoulder and Rosita took your waist, guiding you to the trunk. Tara went back near Daryl, she wanted to ask if their new plan at the Sanctuary was still a go but waited when she noticed Rosita sent a glare Daryl’s way. It honestly did more to Tara than Daryl. He didn’t even bother meeting her face, he was already punching himself for his silence, for his inaction. He just got in the driver’s seat and took off.

After that, you watched him, waiting to see when his eyes would finally meet yours, but he tried to avoid them as much as he could. The only time he spoke to you was to ask if you were okay when Alexandria fell and you were all in the sewers, and when he entrusted you to take care of Judith as he guided everyone to the Hilltop afterwards.

This treatment was excruciating, but you said nothing. You didn’t feel like yelling at him, you just wanted him. And there was no time between when you came back to right now when you could speak alone anyway if you did want to yell. If you asked why he probably would just shoved you off and you’d get more sad and upset than you already were, or maybe you’d pester, demanding some kind of answer and he'd be the one that might yell… no reason to fight in front of people, especially since there are so many other things to worry about.

But you remember when you finally got to the Hilltop, and how you saw the way he embraced Carol almost right after he saw her. You weren’t upset about that specifically. You admired Carol, even if you didn’t get to know her that well yet. You knew they loved each other, you thought they had a beautiful relationship… It wasn’t that. It was the fact that you fought all the way to get back to your family, to him, and it felt like it was all just so he could act like a stranger again. He didn’t even say hello when he saw you, or ask how you got out, or that he missed you. Maybe he didn’t. That was the real reason you said nothing. The thought broke your heart.

You could at least say that Negan talked to you, and didn’t keep all his feelings inside– whether they were real or not, you were only half sure somtimes– but your time at the Sanctuary, becoming a soon-to-be-wife, it was a hardship only you endured. No one would understand the humor of that sick joke, and it especially wasn’t the time nor would it ever be when everyone hated him and wanted to kill him so desperately.

The next day came by, you all prepared for the Saviors to attack at Hilltop. You were on a break, sitting in the cellar. It was dark, but it helped relieve you from the incessant heat that beamed outside.

Daryl was looking for you. This happened to be the third place he went around. He had just spoke to Rick, apologized for their fight. He felt awful that it took until after Carl passed for them to talk about it, and that his passing made Rick start to believe all the killing might be the only option like Daryl believed before. He still wasn’t sure what he felt now. All he knew is he couldn’t let you two go on like this any longer. It was time to talk to you.

As he opened the cellar door he kept it slightly open, letting the light emanate through.

He sits down next to you, bringing his knees up as he usually does. You don’t bother looking at him. Maybe he would just ask you to do him a favor like last time.

There is silence for a moment. He doesn’t know where to begin. All he decides to say is, “You got Judith here safe, I made sure Rick knew. Thank you.”

“You’re the one who led us here.” Your voice says quietly.

“You helped chop a lot of those walkers down in the swap.”

You sigh, not answering him right away. “This isn’t a competition.”

“I know,” he mutters.

Silence is all that hangs in the air again. With each second that passes it makes your throat swell, bubbling up to your tongue and brain as it usually does until you’re trying to hold back tears.

Daryl was feeling similarly. All his words were caught in his throat too, wanting to be said out loud but he can’t, it’s like someone is squeezing and choking him right there. And he can see your teary eyes, it could almost make his eyes match.

He says your name low and slow, “Do you hate me?”

You’re stunned at the thought. Your words are hushed but vehement, “How could you ever think I’d hate you?”

“I left you-”

“You didn’t know.”

“I could’ve fought harder when they put me in that van, you grabbed onto me and I still let them take me—”

You speak in between his words, “Why are you acting like you had a choice?!”

“—I could’ve went back right after they told me that’s where you were. Not leave you! I coulda done that.”

You shake your head, your voice a sharp whisper, “If you tried either of those things you would have been dead. Everything would be worse and this probably still would have happened.”

“I could’ve done something,” is all he repeats. Quietness fills the space again. You’re never going to agree on this. He’s stuck on what happened and you’re upset about what’s happening.

You breathe in shakily. He’s still finding it hard to look and it hurts, it makes you sad and angry.

Your voice becomes stifled, almost weepingly as you ask, “Daryl… Why can’t you even look at me? Why have you barely talked to me since I came back?”

His voice raises strainingly, “Cause I left you.”

Your voice cries as your head shakes again slowly, “You didn’t leave me, they took me. You left me now.” That makes him turn. You see his eyes, they’re puffed and the whites of his eyes are a faint red, and yours are still watery. “It’s not your fault.”

The backs of your fingertips brush against his cheek, feeling the bristles of his beard and you go down further, continuing to shake your head sadly, moving back to your face to wipe your own tears.

“Did they put you in that cell? Take your stuff?”

“Only the first time I came there. And then the two other times I tried to escape. After that I was sent to sleep with the other girls.” Your voice is quiet, “I don’t think it was the same for me like it was for you.”

“Did he,” he almost can't say it, “Did he hurt you?”

You knew what he meant. All you could do was shake your head slowly, it was a gesture of no.

He nods, his mouth fixed. Some relief is finally released from that, but this doesn’t change anything. They still took you away, they probably put you in a cell, they don’t deserve mercy. He wants to tell you that you all are still going to kill Negan and how he still plans on killing Dwight, but he holds his tongue. This wasn’t what being with you was about right now. His mind races with plans, just thinking of how to get close to them, how to commit the final act, until you speak, reading is mind again.

“I-” you stutter ashamedly, “I think- I know that my time in there has changed me and maybe I see things differently or know more than I used to but… it doesn’t change that I’m with you. I never let that go.” You whimper, “It just hurt when you didn’t say anything to me. Like you were disgusted by me.” You can’t help the string of sobs that come out.

“No,” Daryl holds your face close to his. The bottom of his palm reaching your neck, his fingertips extending over your cheeks, his thumb caressing over the area under and behind your ears. “I fucked up. I was going to try to blow up a part of the Sanctuary… even before I knew you got out… If you got hurt that would have been my fault. That would have been on me. I’d never see you again- Would’ve hated myself.” His voice hitches, it’s rasp so coarse and grating.

You hug him instantly. Your hands go under his arms and one of his goes in your hair, holding your head so tightly as it presses into his shoulder. He cries, “I’m sorry.”

“Stop” You breathe him in, “It’s okay.”

“It aint.”

“It doesn’t matter now.“ You wait a moment, telling him quietly into his neck, “I only want to be with you.”

“And what if it goes bad? What if I hurt you again?”

“We’re going to hurt each other, Daryl. What matters is we try and we stay. That’s it.”

He faces you now. His nose brushes against yours, your foreheads connect, it makes your eyes flutter shut. Your tears are drying the longer he holds you like that and everything feels so warm. Your heart, your brain, your cheeks and his fingertips against them. It makes you feel it again, that fearlessness— you kiss him. Gently touching his jaw, your chin moves upwards, your mouths opens, your lips twist so softly with his, you already can’t breathe, and then you let go.

As he looks at your face, he smiles, realizing he’s seeing the girl he used to know again. His sunshine girl with the stars in her eyes. They’re shining up, still half sad and glossy, but the bright lights are slowly coming back on. His dream is back. She’s real. You’re real. You’re trying, you’re staying, so will he.

He takes your neck and kisses you this time. His tongue slips in, you’re so surprised, you gasp into his mouth. It makes you both smile into the kiss. You come closer and he helps you into his lap, allowing you to lean in. His hands go to your waist and yours to his shoulders. Then one of his hands runs up to your hair and your opposite hand does the same to him. You want to touch each other everywhere now.

Then he feels the ribbon, the black one. It makes him stop.

You’re worried, “What happened?”

He holds the piece of hair that the ribbon is secured to, it’s only a little part, the rest of your hair is down, and he undoes the bow, discarding it to the ground. Your hair falls messily over your ears and down your neck. “You don’t need that anymore.”

Daryl pushes your hips and you sit on the floor again. He’s reaching in his pocket, and you can’t believe it, it’s another one. A dark ruby, maybe a silky burgundy one it was in color— it was another ribbon.

“How long have you had that?”

“Since I found the other one.” He shrugs, “I thought the first one was better.” This one had fraying on one end, unraveling just a bit.

You would have said that you could sew it later, but you didn’t, you said only what mattered: “It’s perfect.”

Daryl doesn’t argue. This is him trying, he takes the win.

He doesn’t know how to put it nicely in your hair, how you do it with the different styles, so he just wraps all of your hair in a ponytail, just like last time, tying it into a bow.

It feels like a gift, not just because he gave it to you and not because it looks like a decoration on top of one, but it is all of it— this moment, the conversation— it all feels like breathing new life into something you worried might be slowly withering and dying. You exhale, it felt so nice to feel him so close, to feel his fingers run through your hair, to feel his breath on your skin.

“Think maybe this suits you better now,” he says, and maybe it always has.

He leans back against the wall and you lay your head and back in the crux of his knees and chest. You look up into his eyes and he does the same right down at you. There was more work to be done, more fighting to endure, but for now, you lay there as if you were the only two in the world. In a moment of sweet understanding; in a moment of love. You could finally admit it to yourself now, you were absolutely and monumentally in love.

… I could go on forever ♡ perhaps this can be a mini-series where I post one when I think of another and you can feel free to request a trinket you think Daryl would give the reader and I’ll post it and respond or even write a blurb for it and add it to the list if it’s a good fit! Thank you for reading. ⋆｡°✩

[toorusluvr]

… ⇢ ˗ˏˋ F.O.M.L PART TWO ࿐ྂ - FUSHIGURO TOJI

characters: coach!fushiguro toji x volleyball player f!reader

cw: college!au + volleyball!au + cunnilingus (f!receiving) + penetrative sex + mentions of creeps bothering the reader 

word count: 5k

note from nis: hi everyone so the long awaited part two of f.o.m.l is finally here. the part one was posted before i did my internship and now i’m three weeks away from completing my internship lol i’m so sorry for the delay. so, i hope this part two will keep you entertained and i apologise in advance if it’s not as good as the part one. the part two focuses on the events that happened before part one took place (did i word this right?) anyway, i hope all of you enjoy this part two as a celebration on officially getting toji animated! <3 thank you and have a great holidays! 

[part 1][part 2] 

Good lord, if Toji was no better than any other men, he would have tried to hit on his student that day. The first time he ever saw you as a woman rather than his student, he almost lost his mind over how fucked up that sounded in his head. He tried to blame himself for ever viewing you as a woman instead of his player but he just couldn’t stop staring at you! 

It was subtle, really. Toji was being subtle with all the staring, not wanting to stir up a crazy controversy around this new place. As a coach, he was supposed to lead his team to victory, not tearing them apart due to his foolish stunt. So, he acted normally like he usually did at his previous college. A grumpy, strict, hot-headed coach he has always been.  

Toji hates… no, he detests disobedience! He will never tolerate anyone talking back to him. Not even a word should be said back to him, no matter who the fuck you think you are. Whenever he asks you to do something, you better do it or else he’s going to lose his shit. You aren’t going to do what he asks you to do? It’s nice knowing you while it lasts. Especially in volleyball. You better follow what the man says. He is not at all nice with his words, he must say that. Most of the time, he would verbally lash out at the players, nitpicking every tiny mistake they make. It’s unbearable at first but hey, that’s how your team got to the final round of volleyball collegiate level! It was a remarkable day and the victory was possible due to Coach Toji’s determination and hard work. 

Coach Toji is never the one to make his players’ sports attire a huge problem in his life. But right now, there is nothing more he hates than how skimpy those shorts look on you at times. He wasn’t a fool! He could clearly see how stupid those college boys look at you in those revealing shorts. They were ogling over you and your teammates. A part of him just wanted to beat the shit out of them for having the audacity to look at what’s not theirs! 

But, he is not any better than those pervs. Coach Toji loves how those shorts look wonders on your legs. The way you stretch your legs on the squeaky floor and the shorts will rise a bit, teasing him with just a small peek of the globe of your ass. Coach Toji does not pay attention to the other players but you… you make him forget that he’s even breathing at the moment. 

Does he regret feeling this way towards his own student? Sometimes, yeah. He’s a grown man and so are you. It’s nothing inappropriate even if it might seem like it. But, he won’t ever act on his dirty thoughts for long as he’s having this job that is keeping him alive. He still has his conscience even if it’s uncontrollable at times. 

Coach Toji isn’t the one who likes having his hands on women he has absolutely no interest in. He avoids touching his players especially but you are an exception. He had to make an exception for you the moment he started to find himself staring at you. The days he started to think you are just what he needs in his life. Another plaything, another toy to keep. Such a precious little thing, his mind would say at every glance he takes. The quiet laughter you share with your teammates, the shy and flustered look every time your eyes meet his piercing gaze. He wouldn’t miss that. Oh, now he definitely knows you want him just as much. You may not want him romantically but it was enough to satisfy him on the you want him sexually part. 

You would think he doesn’t notice the way your body squirms every time he tries to fix your posture before each serve. He indeed notices it and the way your skin turns a bit colder each time his fingertips brush against your skin. The shaky breath you slowly inhale and exhale to calm the raging nervousness set in your heart. Cute. It just drives him to go crazy over you. 

His ‘girlfriend’, the woman he brought as his date to the event, wasn't really his girlfriend. Just another casual fuck buddy that he keeps in case he wants to well… fuck. Better to keep at least someone around anytime he wants to hit. She’s an old friend so no romantic feelings involved and both of them are very clear about it. 

That was merely a stunt to check if you’d get jealous but he never got the answer to his curiosity. You played your part well. Coach Toji was definitely impressed. 

However, a few days later, he received a call from your phone number that he saved in his contacts. Well, well, well, look who came running to him this late at night. Turns out, you couldn’t resist him too, huh? 

The moment he picked up the phone, his heart dropped at the sound of your panicking voice. You were sobbing and crying out for his name. “Coach, I-I’m sorry for calling you at this hour. There are a few guys who are disturbing me… I d-don’t feel safe,” your voice was caught in your throat at the end of the sentence. “Can you get me? Please…” you sobbed, holding your coat tightly to the chest. 

You couldn’t get past the group of guys because there were plenty of them. They were catcalling you and you got scared to walk past them. Calling your coach was the last thing you could do because no one else was nearby the campus at this hour. You went out for the sole purpose of purchasing dinner but then this shit happened. Fuck these guys for making you feel unsafe! 

Coach Toji immediately grabbed his jacket and keys, storming out of his apartment by the campus. “Don’t put the phone down! Stay on the phone with me. I’m coming to get you right now. Stay where you are,” he gritted through his teeth. His anger was off the roof, blood boiling at the thought of you feeling unsafe.

Those men’s faces will meet his fist tonight and he meant it with his whole existence. Whoever puts the people he looks out for in danger is going to be scathed alive. Coach Toji drove to the pinned location where he met a group of men drinking several cans of beer by the road. He spotted you hiding behind the building, hands clutching over your chest. One of the men tried to get you but he never got to approach you as Coach Toji’s fist met his jaw. 

“Don’t you fucking dare make women uncomfortable by your rotten existence, you fucking dipshit,” Coach Toji’s voice seethed. His knuckles burned, slightly scratching his skin off. He was quick to grab you by the hand and you were caught by surprise. Coach Toji stopped in his tracks in front of the group of men. 

“You better get the hell out of here before I call the fucking cops on ya,” he threatened. “If I get one more complaint, on God, I would make sure that each and one of you never sees the lights again.”

Coach Toji didn’t waste any second as he pushed you into the passenger seat. You tried to sob quietly beside your seething coach in his car. He didn’t say a word, just giving you space to calm down. His anger was out of his control but he wouldn’t want you to fear him while being in an unstable condition. He may have some unresolved anger issues but he is not an animal. 

You let your coach take you to wherever he wanted to take you. Knowing him, his players’ safety is under his guidance as well. So, he would never leave you in a place he doesn’t have his faith in. Instead, he brought you to his house by the campus. He’s been staying here for as long as you could remember. 

“Get inside,” Coach Toji instructed. You knew better than saying anything back so you obeyed. The door was unlocked by him and he rushed you inside. “Sit,” he pointed his index finger to the couch in the living room. 

His house was cozy even with the minimal decorations. No clutters except a number of beer cans on the dining table. Maybe he had a few drinks with people before this happened. You sat on the couch and the tears that overflowed before had left its stain on your face. Coach Toji went to his kitchen to grab a bottle of mineral water before handing it to you.

“Tell me what happened.” The screeching sound of the chair being dragged across the marble floor interrupted the silence. Toji placed the chair in front of you and sat across you, manspreading with his elbows planted above his knees. His jet black hair hair was damp, sweats sticking on his forehead. The black t-shirt stretched against his muscular body every time he moved. 

You explained to him that you were buying dinner take outs for yourself and you were on your way home when you stumbled upon the group of guys. They were drunk catcalling you, terrifying you to walk past them. You were stuck because that path was the only way home and out of there. Calling Coach Toji was your only option because he lives near campus and could come to get you as soon as possible. 

Coach Toji let out a heavy sigh. “Those bastards,” he gritted through his teeth. He got up and stood in front of you, keeping both of his hands inside his pocket. 

“Do you know any self-defense?” He asked. 

As embarrassing as it gets, you never really learned basic self-defense. There is no time to learn because of the time you spend on volleyball practices. “No, Coach. Sorry, I don’t know any,” you blurted out. 

“Don’t,” he retorted. “Don’t apologise.” 

Your eyes met his stare. It was instinctive to apologise for not knowing any because most of the time you ever hold a conversation with this man is when he is scolding you or your team members. 

“Sorry, Coach.” It was too late to realise what just came out of your mouth. Another apology that Coach Toji refused to hear. He let out a heavy sigh, clearly disappointed. 

“You think you can sweat tonight?” Coach Toji asked. His black orbs held its gaze with yours for a moment. 

You were clueless but you just said yes to his question. “Good. I’ll teach you basic self-defense. Come closer,” he instructed. “Leave your bag and takeout bags. They are not coming with you.”

Oh, right. You were still holding your shoulder bag and takeout bags in your lap. Putting aside your belongings, you got up and straightened your pullover and jeans. 

Coach Toji’s eyes landed on your outfits. “Those jeans are not going to make do. Do you have your shorts on?”

Safety shorts. You always put them on every time you wear jeans because it’s easier that way. No underwear lines. “Yes,” you hastily answered. 

Coach Toji could feel blood rush to his groin. Fuck. But, he wasn’t going to take advantage of you. He wanted to teach you some basic self-defense moves so it would be useful. He would hate for you to use it though because he doesn’t want any bastards near you to put you in any danger. 

“Put them on,” he commanded. 

You nodded hesitantly. Coach Toji hurriedly looked away so you could take your jeans off. He noticed you were clearing your throat awkwardly so he assumed you’re done. He cleared his throat next, “Alright. Come forward.” 

You did as told. Coach Toji took a step forward too, “First, stand with your feet apart. Align it with your shoulders. You know this. It’s a basic stance.” Within a second, you prepared yourself in the first stance. Coach Toji let out a disapproved noise. He checked your stance and moved his hand to widen the stance of your legs. His skin brushed against your skin and the contact burned you. 

Coach Toji felt the warmth emitted from your skin. “Next, you put your hands up like this,” Coach Toji showed the moves. You tried following and he nodded after your stance convinced him that it’s correct. He let out a satisfied hum before moving closer to fix the stance. 

“The next move requires flexibility. Just like how you did in volleyball. It’s easy. Move your legs like this. Raise them higher,” Coach Toji’s large hands gripped on your left thigh and moved them upwards, lifting your legs to kick the air. 

You let out a deep sigh as you felt the burning sensation over your inner thighs. “I think I pulled a muscle,” you winced in pain. Coach Toji furrowed his eyebrows. He didn’t think you pulled a muscle, maybe it’s just a light strain. 

“Sit down,” he pointed his index finger to the couch and you obliged. Coach Toji inspected your smooth thighs, his fingers running along your skin. His other hand gripped on your flesh with a firm grip. 

“I don’t think you pulled a muscle,” he confirmed. 

You bit on your lower lip. Maybe it was a false alarm? 

“Um, okay, Coach.”

Coach Toji raised one of his eyebrows at you, “You didn’t stretch properly.”

The tone of his voice was hinting on accusing you for not stretching properly. You felt offended somehow because you did stretch properly before learning the self-defense mechanism. But, it’s only normal for him to have an accusatory tone because that’s how he has always been. 

“Quiet already?” Coach Toji asked, staring straight into your eyes. He let out a heavy sigh again. “I thought you girls are so talkative even when I am around. Ya think I didn’t know what you guys were talking about me the other day?” 

Your heart dropped at the sudden mention of the other day’s incident. It’s none other than the woman herself who told him about it. Coach Toji had a good laugh after the woman told him about it. Well, she wasn’t wrong about it neither did his players. 

“I- well, we…” your words trailed off, not knowing where to begin to defend yourself. “It was a joke. I apologise on behalf of my teammates. I assure you it will not happen again.” 

“So, you think my sex life is a joke to you girls?” He blurted out. Coach Toji was not being serious about it but it was exciting to see the panicked look on your face. You looked so helpless right now and it rubbed his ego in the wrong way. 

Your cheeks heated, your breath became unsteady, palms turned colder the moment he said that in your face. No one was supposed to overhear the stupid conversation that put you in trouble right now. It was a foolish bet that could possibly hurt no one. But, luck wasn’t on your team’s side that day. Coach Toji’s girlfriend heard it all and placed her bet on it too. 

That stupid little game put you in trouble and you became the hero that saved your teammates the trouble. Gosh, being the hero doesn’t sound so good right now. Not with the killing stare Coach Toji was giving you. 

“Maybe it’s about time for me to stress that you girls really need to mind your own business. My sex life has nothing to do with you people,” Coach Toji sternly said. He noticed your jaw ticked, eyebrows furrowed when he scolded you for the mess that your teammates created. 

“Again, Coach. I apologise on behalf of my teammates. It was a foolish bet that has nothing to do with you,” you gulped, shaky eyes and heavy breaths. Coach Toji shrugged, dismissing your apologies. 

He found it funny that he didn’t find it offensive at all but God, did he try to control himself from not spoiling you right there and now. Coach Toji was about to lose everything on his goddamn mind seeing that innocent face of yours trying to make up for the team.

“Oh, sweetheart. If only you knew,” the man sighed. “Want to see it for yourself so you can brag to your teammates all about it?” 

Your eyes shivered. That wasn’t how you planned to describe what you were feeling in that moment but for sure your eyes did shiver! Every hairs on your body rose, skin prickled with heat in embarrassment or arousal – it was either of them, you were not quite sure which of them was it. 

“I- no, that is not what I meant,” you stuttered in your place. Both of your feet were stuck to the floor. You could not move an inch because Toji was staring daggers at you. His piercing gaze could kill you, steal all of your breaths and finally, leave your body on the floor. 

“Ever dreamed about me, doll?” Coach Toji took a step forward, and you could feel the warmth of his muscular body emitting. His black shirt hugging every inch of his biceps and that rock hard abs. The man brought his one hand over your face, cupping your delicate jaw. The friction between your shorts and the restraining tent on his pants flipped the switch in your brain. 

Your breath hitched again. “I’ll take that as a yes,” you heard him whisper just beside your ears. His minty breath tickled your already heightened senses. Coach Toji’s palm landed on your stomach, pushing you onto the couch. His very much larger build hovered on top of you. 

That man’s mind was a battlefield. He didn’t know what he should do at this moment other than wrecking you. A part of him wanted to go gentle but he said fuck it, and just do whatever his guts were telling him to do. He could not waste this chance. He wanted to show you how a real man should satisfy his partner, though you aren’t really his to begin with. As long as you get to taste just an ounce of his intention, he’s fine with it. 

“Do you want this, doll? Whatcha say?” Coach Toji’s voice broke the silence again. Slowly, he lifted your chin to meet his eyes. 

Your breath staggered, chest rising up and down heavily. Without any hesitation, you nodded your head – not knowing what the future has in store for you. It was all in the heat of the moment and you could not deny the heat pooling in between your legs. 

Coach Toji’s lips caught your lower lip. Gently, he nibbled on the soft lips he sneakily admired from afar. The urge to just devour you was getting stronger each second. Coach Toji’s impatient hands almost ripped your shirt out. But then he thought you deserved better than that. He wanted to at least be respectful of your current state. He groaned into your mouth as his hands snuck their way in your shirt. His calloused hands lightly stroked your stomach, igniting a fire in your systems. 

You let out a soft pant as he removed your shirt for you. If it were up to him, the shirt would be ripped off in a millisecond but he was holding himself back. It was a surprise to him too. He was never patient, he would admit.

Coach Toji looked down to where your nipples were poking through the material of your bra. A smirk plastered across his face seeing you got aroused. Your back was comfortably laid on the couch and Coach Toji’s huge frame looming on top of you. The man’s minty breath ghosted over your neck, littering soft kisses on the thin skin. He sucked and nibbled on your skin, instantly decorating it with the red marks. 

Your fingers clawed on his ripped back, careful to not make it sting. Maybe it was the chemical reactions in your system, but you couldn’t defy the electrifying feeling to grind against the man’s forming tent. His lips left traces on your skin as he went lower and lower. 

“Oh, God,” you whimpered once he situated his face in between your thighs. A smirk plastered across his manly, “sculpted by God himself” face. He roughly pulled down your pants, almost ripping the fabric into tiny pieces. He was growing impatient as time passed by. He couldn’t just stand there trying to refrain himself from spoiling you. You turned him this way, and he wasn’t complaining one bit. 

Right now, you wanted to run away so bad. But, the way Coach Toji was looking at you as if you were the greatest gift that has ever happened to him, successfully changed your mind. The way his gaze glistened with pride once he undressed you naked. His eyes observing every inch of your body with the smug smile on his face. His calloused hands reached for your thighs, circling both of them with his hands. 

“So fucking tempting,” he grunted in his deep raspy voice. “How could I not love this sight?”  

Coach Toji continued to taunt you as your body squirmed underneath him. He couldn’t let himself be patient any longer. The man ensured you were watching him the moment he spat on your cunt, and you shivered feeling the warmth of the liquid. 

You felt a long lick along your folds, back arched against the couch with your eyes shut. A burning sensation electrified your whole body. This feeling made you feel like you were a brand new woman. Nothing ever felt like Coach Toji’s tongue, not even your exes. Is this because he’s far more experienced? But, God, was it so good that you almost cried that night. 

Coach Toji threw a look at you, eyes shut closed — not daring to meet his eyes. Cute. 

His tongue sucked and nibbled on your folds before it moved to your clit. A cry escaped past your lips as he sucked hard on the bundle of nerves. Your instant reflex was to tug on his hair and he was pissed off. But, he fucking loved the way you pulled on his hair when he was devouring you like this. So precious for him. And obedient too. He would do anything just to have you in his home again. 

“Ah! Please!” You cried out after trying so hard to keep your noises to yourself. You were panting heavily, eyes finally met the man’s piercing gaze staring up at you. The scar on his lips lifted as a smirk plastered across his face, daunting you with mischief. 

Coach Toji went back up, towering you once again. “Please what, doll? Use your big girl words. You’re a smart girl. Try harder.” 

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest at his words. “Please… give me more, sir,” the word ‘sir’ hung in the air. Only Coach Toji’s steady breathing accompanied the silence. His blood rushed to his already half hard cock at the name you just called him. This might be the first time he is affected by the sound of your voice. 

“Give you what?” Coach Toji smirked. 

You gulped, your throat burned at throwing the words out of your mouth. Before you spoke, your breath hitched, stopping you to form coherent sentences. “Please use your cock on me, sir,” your lips trembled once you spat the words out loud. Loud enough for him to hear you. 

“Good. That’s what I thought,” he sighed. “Let me stretch you out before I use my cock on you, hm, doll?” 

That statement gave you chills. You peeked at his fingers. The girth of his fingers made it hard for you to breathe. It’s gonna burn, for sure. Coach Toji commanded you to look at him. You got scared of his stern voice. With nervousness coiling your stomach, you kept your eyes on Coach Toji, paying attention to every one of his acts. 

He brought two of his fingers to his lips, wetting them in his mouth. Saliva coating his two fingers right after, followed by a loud pop sound. “Tell me if it hurts,” he muttered under his breath. Your back arched once again once you felt his two fingers slid so easily inside your cunt, penetrating the tight walls with its girth. Once his thumb found your clit, you felt this swirling feeling inside of your stomach. The circular motion got your head spinning and panting for more. 

Coach Toji watched your breasts bounce up and down with an awe smirk plastered across his face. Your eyes shut closed, hands clutching on the couch. Feeling his lust got the best of him, his mouth then covered one of your nipples and gave them a hard suck. Your breath hitched again before letting out audible moans. 

The squelching noises that filled his living room echoed in the back of your mind. Your moans and his grunts mixed all together. “C-coach, wait, wait,” you paused. 

His eyebrows furrowed when you called out for him. But, he didn’t pull his fingers out and kept his steady pace. Your face washed with pleasure and struggled to get the words out. 

“Wh-what about your girlfriend?” You finally uttered the question you have been meaning to ask before this happened. His girlfriend would kill you if she found out that her boyfriend is secretly screwing his student behind her back. 

“She is not my girlfriend,” he asserted. Coach Toji met your gaze, “Don’t worry about a fucking thing. You are mine tonight.” He dared to say that with his two fingers languidly stroking your insides, abusing your tight walls with pleasurable pain. 

You moaned once again, climax almost washed all over you. Coach Toji bit on his inner cheeks, grunting as he drew firm circles on your clit, flicking the sensitive bud to give you the orgasm that you never had before him. And when it hit, you found yourself screamed in a high-pitched scream as you had your first orgasm. You were gasping for air but Coach Toji covered your mouth with his addictive kiss. 

His sexy lips nibbled on your lower lip, softly sucking on your plump lip before he terrorised your mouth. As his one hand cupped your jaw, the other free hand rashly undid his pants and his briefs. Once he undressed himself, he let out a groan after breaking the kiss. He never wanted to let go of your lips at that moment. 

You looked down at his throbbing cock in his hand. The length and the girth gave you a second thought. 

Will it fit? 

Will it hurt? 

It’s terrifying enough just at the glance of his dick. 

“Bend your legs for me, love,” he murmured. When you did, he wasn’t satisfied. So, Coach Toji took the matter into his own hands and bent your legs as far as you could. You hissed in pain but surprisingly, he kissed the pain away. 

Coach Toji sighed the moment the warmth of your slick touched his cock. He slid his length along your folds, just rubbing it back and forth, tormenting you with hasty moves. You winced because of the sensitivity after coming down from your high. 

“It’s- it’s sensitive,” you cried a plea.

Coach Toji held your thighs open before he buried his cock inside you. God, it was so warm and he almost lost his mind that night. Your walls were squeezing around his tip so tight. He slowly bottomed out but that only made you cry louder. It was painful but in a good way. The pain was minimal because you were already stretched out by his fingers earlier. 

His head was thrown back once his length was fully inside you. Slowly, he rocked his hips to set his pace. You sobbed back a tear, watching his cock sliding in and out of you. Indescribable feelings clouded your mind, disabling you to form coherent sentences. His stroke was so damn good, you were sure you almost wished tonight to never come to its end. 

Your legs kept on closing against your will because of the building climax. Coach Toji grunted under his breath as his frustration grew from keeping your legs open. 

“You need to be more flexible, doll,” he hissed. “Your legs need to be stretched out more.”

Whatever he said didn’t make sense to you when he got you all speechless. You let him belittled you and all he ever received was a bunch of whines and cries. Coach Toji watched every single of your facial expressions as his cock hit every sensitive spot inside your inviting cunt. 

“Fuck, I already love your pussy, baby,” Coach Toji groaned before giving another thrust that gave you a loud moan. “I am not changing my mind about your pussy,” his minty breath hovered in the corner of your lips. His tongue slid into your mouth, his bare hand fondling and pinching on your hardened nipples. 

His pace was ruthless, leaving your tongue tied. You were sure it was going to leave you limping the following day. Coach Toji wrapped your legs around his waist, pounding into you so hard. You were nothing but tears and snots in the comfort of his living room. He introduced all sorts of new unlocked feelings that night. But, you couldn’t help thinking of the consequences of tonight’s event tomorrow and the day after. What will happen between the both of you? What if someone finds out?  How are you going to look at him in the eyes during practice? How’s your future going to look like? Are you just another one of his fucktoy? 

The overthinking collides with your urge to come around his cock for the second time. And he gave it to you willingly. The high that you never expected you’d experience in your lifetime. Truly, Coach Toji knows how to fuck. It leaves you wondering if he makes love just as good as he fucks. 

[essycogany]

Rare But Not So Rare Sonic Moments. Character Analysis.

Crying

A weird topic I’m more then happy to discuss.

Mandate: “Sonic’s not allowed to get overly emotional.”

I’m starting to think the mandates do break in a few instances. This one specifically is something I’m quite interested in because this is probably one of the rarest emotions Sonic displays. Getting sad/emotional.

Hopefully this essay will be a positive outlook on the mandate.

(Despite being a discussion about negative emotions.)

Examples Of Sonic Getting Emotional

I might not include everything, but the examples I have knowledge of will be stated. If you have anymore examples, I’d love to see them.

SATAM: Sonic cried when he and the Freedomfighters had to leave his Uncle Chuck in Robotnik’s lab.

Archie: The times Sonic cried/teared up was when the weight of a situation got to him, when something tragic occurred and all hope was lost, or when he was filled with joy after those instances ended. Those moments like others, didn’t go too far. (For the most part)

Pretty sure he never out right sobbed.

Underground: I think Sonic only cried when he was a little kid.

Correct me if I’m wrong.

X: In episode 52 Sonic allowed his tears to shed with his head turned away from us. He and Chris ran one last time before Sonic left through a portal to go home forever. It obviously crushed him even if we didn’t see his face.

Boom: Sonic cried/teared up in two episodes of the show. First when Tails was reminiscing about the Tornado and noticed Sonic wiping his eyes. Sonic replied, “What?” Then he, Knuckles, and Tails all cried when they thought the baby they took care of was gone. Also, in Archie when Stick’s rock friend broke or “Died,” everyone in team Boom morned it. Sonic included.

IDW: Sonic shed tears in the Scrapnick Island Issue. Even if it was “Mecha Sonic’s” tears I’ll count it anyways because it’s a good loophole and it came out of Sonic’s eyes.

Movie 1: It’s implied he indeed cried during the baseball scene. The sources being a deleted scene and story-board of the film.

Prime: This doesn’t really count, but Sonic teared up in the first episode when he was held captive by the Chaos Council and had light blasted in his eyes, when he was in darkness. Then Sonic actually cried in episode 7 when he ate a seadog. Either because he was home-sick or starving.

(In the last episode of season two it’s implied he might cry in the next episode. Especially with the shot of him looking on the verge of tears and then covered his eyes in the background of the last shot, but we’ll see.)

By the way. You can see the instant improvement from episode 1 to 7 of the tears animation. Just thought I’d say that.

My Overall Thoughts

Hold on because this is going to be a long ride.

First thing I’d like to discuss is the mandate itself.

I personally don’t believe it means, “Sonic shouldn’t cry.”

(Which has been stated a bunch)

If that were the case, I don’t think this majority of moments (specifically the recent ones) would’ve happened. I think the mandate meant Sonic couldn’t and or shouldn’t go too far with his emotions. I don’t think the mandate existing makes any since, but I won’t get into that.

My point is, Sonic can cry, just not in an overly dramatized way unless it’s done for comedic purposes.

(I say that because of Sonic Boom and the 7th episode of Prime examples. Which are obviously not meant to be taken seriously)

My opinions on Sonic crying.

It’s not necessarily needed, but I don’t mind if it’s done well. I do believe Sonic shouldn’t go too far unless the situation does.

One Issue in Archie when Sonic’s entire life was basically ruined, is a good example. If you’re going to have such calamities happen to him, especially since he has zero ego or mask to hold onto, I think it’s a fair enough scenario for him to react as drastic as his misfortune.

But I believe if he were to cry in something like the Metal Virus. (Just for an example) it could be like how Espio teared up after Vector’s sacrifice.

Crazy idea. Let’s talk about Shadow for a minute.

Shadow is one of the most stoic characters in the entire franchise. He barely smiles, gets excited, or displays any overly positive emotions. While Sonic rarely cries, gets angry, or shows any harsh negative emotions. Shadow and Sonic are opposites because of that.

Sonic’s overall a positive and outgoing guy who wants to keep moving forward. Whenever he has the time to worry, he runs. Faces his problems head on. Sonic only let’s a small amount of his true emotions out when helping someone else. In general Sonic’s a pretty optimistic character.

Shadow on the other hand is a reserved and serious guy. Who wants what’s best for the world too, but in a more calculated and planned out manner. But for some reason, in Sonic Adventure 2 after Amy encouraged Shadow to save the world, (Which reminded him of Maria’s real wish) He sheds a tear.

I repeat. Shadow is the most stoic character in the entire franchise. Who rarely shows his emotions. And yet he cries.

Why can’t Sonic? To be fair, Sonic usually doesn’t have time to think, let alone worry about how he feels. But if Shadow himself can have a short moment of releasing his emotional baggage, why can’t the blue blur?

Is Sonic even as happy as he let’s on?

I’d say he’s genuinely happy half of the time. Then the other half Sonic’s internalizing everything negative in him. Everyone knows Sonic’s overall upbeat, but we’ve seen plenty of times (In the Metal Virus specifically) when he’s thinking, or enduring the chaos around him, he doubts himself. Sonic has these insecurities and emotions he barely let’s anyone see.

Besides Issue #24

Even in Sonic Prime while Sonic shows the most guilt, sincerity, anger, fear, and sadness in the show. He sometimes still puts on a front and acts like everything’s fine.

Sonic Unleashed I’m pretty sure was the first and only time we’ve seen him mope for a minute. All because Amy didn’t know who he was. So, he does have some level of insecurities lingering every once in a while.

Can Sonic crying even work?

How I interpret him crying is when he’s alone. Some people theorize in certain instances like SA2 and Unleashed with Shadow and Chip’s sacrifices, he cried a little. I’m fascinated by this idea. I believe it’s the most in character way to let him cry. Maybe even something like X when his face isn’t shown, but you know how he’s feeling.

Even if we do see Sonic’s face, him crying or tearing up could be shown without being over the top. Normalize it in a way that doesn’t fly off the handle. His expression could have a hint of frustration, anger, or exhaustion. Crying is normal and I don’t see Sonic crying as out of character because it’s been done plenty of times.

It’d be nice if it happened in order to make Sonic feel more believable and sympathetic. As long as the dude’s not on the floor whaling, I’m sure it can work.

Final Thoughts

There are other ways to show Sonic’s emotions. Again, crying doesn’t have to happen, but it does help the writing feel less unnecessarily limited of what kind of emotions can be displayed on this character.

Though there are benefits too. Like finding fun loopholes or small animated details like in IDW and Prime. Sonic not crying so much makes the times he does (or may do in the future) feel earned and impactful. The examples before prove it can be done without taking away what makes Sonic who he is. It just needs to be subtle, quiet, and quick. (Or humorous) Depends on what you think.

At the end of it all, Sonic’s a tough hedgehog. Him shedding a few tears won’t ever change that.

Stay Creative! 💜

[noyoyoy]

Bread with cheese!!!

You can do one of Ghost x Male Reader? , a story where Ghost returns home from a mission, very stressed. Well, he goes to the male reader and proceeds to fuck the reader too intensely until he is satisfied, relaxed and de-stressed.Ghost, let's say, can withstand many rounds and the reader only 1 or 2., that is, the reader was overstimulated to the maxGhost, let's say, can withstand many rounds and the reader was only 1 or 2, that is, the reader was overstimulated to the max.

((IF ANYONE KNOWS ME, I SWEAR THIS WAS PROPOSED BY MY DOG.😭😭😭😭😭

The Mask, The Man.

Simon “Ghost” Riley X Male reader

I cannot lie. This was supposed to be pure smut, then it turned into angst, and then fluff- I’m sorry if this wasn’t up to your standard or what exactly you wanted. I might have gotten lost in the heat of the moment.

TW: Smut. MDNI, 18+, EVERYTHING. IS. CONSENSUAL. Cursing, slight mentions of blood and murder, slight Somnophilia?? Idk m/n passes out.

It wasn’t often that Simon let you see Ghost. In fact, if you did ever see Ghost, the world was most likely ending.

However, you have seen him one time before, when Simon came home from a very long 6 month mission, you’d admit you were shocked when you ran down the stairs only to see your husband facing and leaning on the front door, his boots will on, his mask still on, and his back heaving up and down from how heavy he was breathing. He didn’t bother to change, much less shower before he be-lined to his truck, and driving off to his home where he knew his husband would be waiting.

M/n didn’t necessarily hate seeing Ghost, in fact it was Ghost that hated seeing M/n. Well, it was Simon who hated Ghost seeing M/n. He wasn’t acquainted with his Military life, not his friends, that godforsaken mask, or the blood and dirt from his missions. Every other time he came home he washed himself to a T, making sure he was clean before he came home, but even then he and his husband took a long bath together, M/n scrubbing off the mental dirt and blood that Simon could never wash off himself.

And thus here we are. M/n’s head shoved into the pillow, tears streaming down his face and his breath uneven as Simon was thrusting into his body, his hand buried in his hair keeping his head down while his other hand was wrapped around his waist with a grip he knew would bruise. He didn’t care. As much as he loved Simon, he missed Ghost. One taste was all it took and M/n constantly wanting more, silently hoping Ghost would step through that door again. Simon didn’t like hurting his dear lover, so he was always soft, and gentle with him. Though while M/n loved it, he also loved being roughed around a bit.

“F-Fuck! Simonn!” M/n choked out, the tears not stopping, saliva dripping from his open mouth and wetting the pillow below him. “That’s not my fucking name.” His voice was deep, husky, yeah, that wasn’t Simon. This was ghost, this was ghost in all glory. His angry, agressive, sexy, blood thirsty glory. “GHOST!” He screamed as he came for the 4th time that night, his dick sensitive and yet still painfully hard. “Shit.” Ghost huffed out as he rolled his head back, closing his eyes. He felt the coil in his lower stomach snap, his cum filling him again. It starting to spill out forming a frothy white ring around the base of his cock.

“Ghost! I- ! I can’t! Please please please~” It hurt. His hole was swollen, puffy, and red, his prostate no doubt abused to the fullest at this point. His body moved to have his hips pressed against the mattress, his face lifted by his hair as spit followed after and dropped down his chin, his dick now pushed fully against his belly and the thought sheets, gaining friction with every thrust Simon threw at him. But oh did I feel so good. His vision soon going dark to the feeling of Ghost gripping his hips and thrusting faster, letting his head fall down against the spit damp pillow.

•

Waking up, m/n noticed two things, one, every muscle in his body was aching, and his throat was sore, and two ghost now had his mask off as he laid his head on his chest. “Ah-” he gasped out and winced has he tried to sit up, eventually giving up and falling back down onto the broad chest below him. “I’m sorry..” he heard, now realizing Simon was back, and awake as well. “Hm? For what?” M/n muttered out closing his eyes still feeling sleepy after the very long night. “I was too rough. Your body is.. fucked because of me and my selfishness.” Simon felt horrible. He HATED hurting m/n. Especially during sex. “Mm.. it was great.” His husband lifted his head, then his body to crawl over his hips and straddle him. “Simon. It’s okay, trust me, I’m not made of glass you didn’t fuck up my body! I’ll be back to fine in like.. 4 days.” M/n said ignoring the burning feeling in his lower region.

“I hate it, I used you.. I felt you go limp and I still.. I couldn’t..” he couldn’t finish. He couldn’t bear to repeat what he did. Disgusted at the fact he kept going even after his lover fell unconscious. “Oh hush up. I told you many times already, I. Don’t. Mind. I find it hot when you use me!” M/n tried to fix his husband’s aching heart. “Now c’mon, we are nasty. It’s time to clean up and get some food in us!” M/n chirped as he sat up and pulled himself off of Simon and onto the floor, his knees almost buckling under him.

Simon watched his wince his way into the bathroom where he heard the water turn on. “SIMON!” He heard from the bathroom. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” He got up, walking into the bathroom and getting into the shower with his husband, cleaning all the dried fluids on (and in) M/n’s body.

And I’m done. My first time writing smut but I feel like I’ve read enough of it to do at least decent.

Open for requests, and criticism.

[btsficsandsuch]

You Better Figure It Out- Part 2

Yoongi can’t figure out a way to prove to you that he never cheated. When you hear stories about his encounters with other women it starts to make you question your decision.

Part 1 Here

The plane ride back home was difficult. You tried your best to hide your tear stained face but after a few hours you just stopped caring. People stared and whispered, but your mind and your heart were so full of other things that it didn’t even matter to you. Yoongi had called you 16 times by the time your plane took off. You lost count of how many text messages he’d sent. Some of them apologizing, most of them begging. You had been cheated on in the past and Yoongi knew that too which is why you were extra hurt.

You wanted to believe he didn’t cheat on you but how could you? Your last boyfriend managed to hide his infidelity from you for six months and the two of you lived together and even worked for the same business. You and Yoongi spent a significant amount of time apart so it would be super easy for him to hide it from you. You thought of all the times he left for tour and you couldn’t go because of work and you wondered what he did when he was alone after the show or all the times he was locked in his studio all night and told you not to come by because he was busy. Now you were wondering exactly what he meant by “busy”.

When you finally made it back to your apartment the first thing you wanted to do was take a hot shower. Opening the bedroom door you were hit with a wave of disgust when you looked at the bed. The bed that you and Yoongi spent countless nights in cuddling, talking, showing each other love. What if he brought other women home and cheated on you with them in that bed? Suddenly you felt dirty being in that apartment. It didn’t feel like home any more. You grabbed another bag and packed some clean clothes. You were going to go stay with a friend for a while until you could find a new place. Luckily Yoongi wasn’t going to be home for a while so you didn’t have to worry about getting all of your things out just yet.

Over the course of the next few weeks Yoongi still called and texted you every day. Then you started getting texts from the boys asking you what was going on because Yoongi was inconsolable since you left. You knew things were serious when you got a voicemail from Bang PD letting you know that he was starting to get really worried about him. Part of you wanted to call and make sure he was okay at least but you ultimately decided against it. He brought this on himself and it’s not your responsibility to fix it. If things weren’t stressful enough for you, you still hadn’t found somewhere to live and the tour was almost over. Yoongi would be home in a few days and you weren’t sure what you were going to do.

You just arrived home from work when you heard your phone going off again. You went to delete the message assuming it was just Yoongi again but stopped when you saw it was Namjoon asking if the two of you could meet up now that they were home from the tour. You were hesitant but he promised no Yoongi so you gave in and you agreed to meet him the next day.

“Y/N it’s good to see you. How are you?”, Namjoon said while giving you a hug. You smiled, “I’m alright. How was the rest of the tour?” He sighed, “Tiring to say the least but we love it.” There was a long silence before he continued, “So you probably know why I wanted to talk so soon after getting back.” You nodded realizing that they would’ve just got in this morning. He continued, “Yoongi didn’t tell us the full story. He just said he messed up and he doesn’t know how to fix it. All I know is he’s not been the same Yoongi since you left.” You weren’t sure how much you wanted to involve him. At the end of the day this was between you and Yoongi but you thought maybe he might know something. “Namjoon, I want you to be 100% honest with me. Has he ever cheated on me?” You decided to give him more context before he answered, “He accused me of cheating and then admitted that he cheated on me. When I proved that I didn’t cheat he tried to backtrack and tell me that he never cheated. I don’t know if I believe him.”

Namjoon was quiet for a while like he was trying to decide how to answer. Finally he spoke, “Look Y/N I’m not with him 24/7 so I can’t tell you for sure.” You felt your heart sink. He continued, “But I can tell you there was this one time while we were on tour we had met a group of girls. We were all hanging out and drinking. People started getting touchy with each other. This one girl in particular really wanted Yoongi. I mean she was all over him.” The thought of some other girl all over him made you sick. You weren’t sure what the point of this story was and why he was telling you it. He continued almost like he could read your mind, “Yoongi kept pushing her away and telling her he wasn’t interested. She was persistent. Next thing I know her top is flying across the room and she’s straddling him in just her skirt and bra.” You’d had enough, “Joon what is the point of this story?” He chuckled, “Let me finish. He immediately shoved her off of his lap and left the room. Later that night Jimin found him asleep in his bed with his laptop open showing a slideshow of photos of you and he was hugging that tshirt of yours that he brings with him anytime we leave the country. My point is he could’ve easily had that girl if he wanted but he didn’t. Instead he laid in bed staring at pictures of you and clutching your shirt like it was the last thing he had left of you.” You had forgotten all about the blue tshirt you had gotten on a family vacation when you were 17. It was one of your favorites and Yoongi had accidentally packed it with his belongings before going on tour one time. He shyly told you how he had slept with it every night because it felt like you were there with him. Ever since then you let him keep it and it became like a comfort blanket for him when he was away.

Namjoon brought you back to the present as he continued, “Like I said Y/N, I can’t guarantee what Yoongi does when I’m not there but from what I do see I personally don’t think he’d cheat on you. The opportunity has presented itself several times over the years but he never acts on it. Ultimately though it’s up to you to decide if you want to move forward or end the relationship now. But please at least talk to him either way. We are really concerned about his well being right now.”

Even though you were more conflicted now you thanked Namjoon for talking with you and went on your way back home. You tried to clear your head on the walk back. On one hand you really believed that he wouldn’t cheat based on what Namjoon said but like he also said he’s not with him all the time. He was right about talking to him though. You knew that had to be done even if it was just to discuss moving your things out. You sent a quick text to him asking if the two of you could talk back at the apartment. Almost instantly you received a text back letting you know he was already there so you changed direction and made your way over.

You let yourself into the apartment for the first time in weeks. It felt even less like home than it did when you last left. You found Yoongi standing at the kitchen counter making two cups of coffee. You couldn’t believe how terrible he looked. His skin looked of a grayish color. He had dark bags under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in months. It looked like he had lost close to 20lbs since you last saw him. He looked up when he noticed you standing in the room. Slowly he walked over and handed you a cup of coffee, “I made it just like you like it.” You softly smiled and took the mug from him before sitting down. He stood staring for a moment like he was unsure where he should sit. Eventually he settled on the chair next to you.

“How have you been Y/N? Are you taking care of yourself?”, he asked. “I’m doing alright. How have you been?”, you inquired. He was biting his lip. Before he could speak the tears started flowing from his eyes. He started hyperventilating and shaking. Instinctively you reached for his hand, “Yoongi breathe. Just calm down and breathe. When is the last time you ate something or even slept?” He shook his head, “I don’t know. I don’t really care to do either any more.” “Yoongi you have to take care of yourself. Please. I hate seeing you like this.” You got up and checked the cabinets to find something to eat. Thankfully there were some instant noodles you were able to heat up. Setting the bowl in front of him you spoke, “Please eat. It’s the least you can do for me.” You watched as he finally started to eat the noodles. It was almost like you could see some life immediately brought back into his body.

You let him finish his meal and calm down a little before you decided to move forward with the reason you were there. “How do we move forward from this?”, you asked. He stared out of the window, “I don’t know Y/N. There’s no way for me to prove to you that I didn’t cheat. I love you more than life itself but I can’t force you to forgive me. What I did was disgusting and I broke your trust. I understand if you don’t want to continue this relationship any more.”, You sat in silence for a while before finally speaking up, “I agree Yoongi. I can’t trust you any more and I don’t think I can continue this.” He winced at your words before solemnly nodding. “Please take care of yourself Yoongi.”, you whispered before making your way to the front door.

You were finally able to find an apartment you could afford even though Yoongi had offered to let you have the apartment you shared. It didn’t feel right so you declined. You hadn’t heard from Yoongi since you stopped over to get the rest of your things. He still looked miserable but he didn’t say much. He helped you carry down some of your boxes to your car before disappearing to your once shared bedroom.

It had been several weeks since you heard from him when one day you got a text from him saying he had a box of your things at his studio. He said you could stop by any time and pick it up. You told him you’d stop by one day after work and that was the end of the conversation. It’s was a Friday evening and you were able to sneak out of work a little early so you thought it would be the perfect time to go get your stuff from his studio. You made the familiar walk to the building and then made your way past security and up his room.

Standing in front if his door you were about to knock when the door suddenly swung open and a woman came storming out slamming the it behind her. “Seriously, he already moved on?”, you thought feeling your heart break. “Oh are you here to see Yoongi? Well good luck. I swear I could walk in there naked and he wouldn’t even notice.”, she said dripping with sarcasm. You were pretty speechless not really sure what was going on. For some reason this woman thought you wanted to have this conversation so she continued, “Some guys are so blind or maybe just dumb. I’ve been trying to get with him for years. He always shot me down saying he had a girlfriend. I’d say what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. He still wouldn’t give in and told me he’d never do that to her. Whoever his girlfriend was must’ve been something special. Then I find out that they recently broke up. So I’m like okay cool. Now is my chance but he’s still rejecting me claiming he’s still in love and trying to get her back.” She eventually walked away still rambling. You were in disbelief at what you just heard. How could someone be so selfish?

You knocked on his door and waited for him to answer. When he did you greeted him with a slight smile, “I just met your friend. She seems nice.” He chuckled and invited you in. “So what’s her deal? It seems like she’s been giving you a hard time for a while.”, you asked. “That’s just Mae. She’s been working here for like three years. Her dads one of the big shots so she gets away with a lot. She’s been flirting with me and making advances on me for years. I think I’m the first person to tell her no in her life so she doesn’t like it.”, he said with a laugh. You began thinking back to the story that Namjoon told you about how Yoongi had rejected the girl while he was on tour and he also kept rejecting this Mae girl. You started wondering if maybe he didn’t ever cheat on you. He’s clearly had plenty of chances but has always turned them down.

You were shaken out of this thoughts when Yoongi spoke, “Your box is by the door. There’s some notebooks and supplies. Your favorite fuzzy socks are in there. I know you’ll want those back. Your favorite tshirt is also in there. I forgot it was still in my luggage.” You looked over and saw your blue vacation shirt that Yoongi always took with him on tour peaking out of the box. You were fidgeting with the sleeve of your blouse wondering if you’ll regret this next action or not, “Yoongi, you really never cheated on me did you?” He looked up at you, “Y/N I swear on my career, on my family, on my life itself. I never cheated on you. When I saw you at that pub and I thought you were getting that guys number I was hurt and scared and angry. I always expected you to leave me one day because I’m not the best at this relationship thing and I thought that day had finally come. I wanted you to feel the hurt that I was feeling. I said the one thing that I knew would hurt you the most and I’ll never forgive myself for it.”

You could feel the tears starting to well up in your eyes. You missed him so much. “Y/N you can say no if you want but can I hug you?” You nodded and he slowly wrapped his arms around you. It had been so long since you felt a relief like that. No one could hold you like him, comfort you like him, or love you like him. “Please give me another chance. I promise that nothing like this will ever happen again. You’ll never doubt my commitment or love for you.”, he whispered to you.

You pulled away to look into his eyes. It felt like years since you’d done that. His eyes were filled with sincerity. “I’m not saying I forgive you and I’m not saying that things will go right back to the way they were because it’s definitely going to take time but I do think that if we work on this we could repair our relationship.”, you said. Yoongi smiled, “I would really like that.” He took your hand in his, “If you like you could stay here for a little bit. I’ll order us some food. It’ll be like a repeat of our first date.” You thought back to that night and chuckled, “Yeah that sounds nice. Just please don’t spill your drink on me out of nervousness this time.” He laughed as he started ordering the food from his phone. You went over to the box of your things on the floor and took out the blue tshirt. You walked to Yoongi’s computer chair and laid the shirt over the back before leaning over and giving him a kiss on the cheek. He looked back at the shirt and then up at you before smiling. You took a seat on the couch and continued to watch him as he pondered over what to order. You knew he was the one that broke your heart to begin with but you also knew deep down that he’d be the one that could slowly stitch it back together.

@anon-1112

[vioartemis]

Friends? (Part 4)

(Wednesday Addams x fem! reader)

Summary: After your encounter with your mother, you go back to your time, and to your girlfriend Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 Warnings: none (?) a/n: this might be the last partttt (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

When you opened your eyes again, you were back in your room, in your girlfriend’s arms. She was awake already but seemed lost in thoughts. You tilted your head up and kissed her jaw softly, letting her know you were awake too.

She looked down to you and pressed her lips on your forehead.

“Good morning”

“Wends, you’ll never guess what I saw!” you started, so excited to tell her about your mom

“What did you see, cara mia?”

You both repositioned yourselves on your bed in a more comfortable position to talk.

Your eyes were shining the whole time you talked. You looked so happy to finally know who your mother was…

“And you? Did you see anything?” you asked your girlfriend, a bright smile still on your face

Wednesday’s eyes scanned your face for a split second, as if she was taking in your features and traits. Again, she seemed lost in thoughts.

She woke up in a room, in Nevermore, but it was certainly not yours. The decoration had changed, and you were nowhere to be found. The raven frowned, confused. You were in her arms just moments ago, you couldn’t have disappeared like that.

She took a moment to examine the room with attention to try to understand what was going on. The decoration was quite pleasant to her; she could’ve decorated her room like that. But it was clearly not her room.

She was about to look at a picture on a shelf when the door burst opened. Surprised by the unusual discretion of the person, Wednesday jumped slightly, and took out the knife she always had in her pocket. A knife you had gifted her on one of your dates after hers broke.

The other person didn’t seem to have noticed her yet. It was a girl, who was looking for something into a drawer.

The raven took a few steps closer, silently, but the other girl seemed to hear it because she quickly turned around. Out of reflex, Wednesday’s knife found its place close to the other’s throat.

Surprisingly, the girl had a knife as well and it was also close to the raven’s throat. That was very unusual now.

“Who are you?” the girl asked

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” Wednesday replied, unimpressed

“I asked first! You have to answer first, that’s the rules”

Wednesday held back a little smile. It was totally the kind of thing you could say.

“My knife is closer to your throat.” she simply said

The girl looked at the knife, and it was clearly closer to her. She rolled her eyes and mumbled:

“I knew I had to practice more” she then looked back at Wednesday “Truce? We put the knives aside and then we can talk?”

The raven considered the suggestion for a second, before giving her a slight nod. They both put their weapons down at the same time but stayed alert.

“So?” Wednesday said again, becoming impatient

“Yes, sorry. I’m Lilith”

“Do you have a last name?”

“Addams. With two D’s” the girl declared as if people made the mistake very often

The raven was surprised, to say the least.

“Does Fester have a child he never told us about?” she asked, raising an eyebrow

“What? Why are you- How do you know- What is happening?”

“I didn’t know there was another Addams in Nevermore…” Wednesday mumbled to herself

“‘Another’? What do you mean?”

“I’m Wednesday Addams.” she simply replied

Lilith’s eyes widen at her words, and her mouth formed a perfect O.

“That’s why you look so familiar! But- how- I mean-”

She didn’t have the time to finish her sentence and got cut off by the door opening again. Wednesday’s eyes shifted to the person who opened it. It was an older version of you in her mid 30’s.

“Honey, is everything okay? You’ve been gone for a long time, we-” Wednesday’s gaze met ‘yours’ “Wednesday…? What the-”

You turned to Lilith, confused, then back to Wednesday.

“What is happening here?”

“I don’t know! I just wanted to show you the snowball, and then she was in my room! I swear mom, I-”

“Mom?” Wednesday repeated with wide eyes

You ran a hand through your hair, biting your bottom lip, trying to figure out what to do. Wednesday noticed a ring on your left ring finger.

“Lilith, baby, can you find your mother and tell her she needs to come right now?” you finally said

The girl looked at you, then nodded before going out of the room, not without a last glance towards Wednesday.

“Okay um… Hi? I guess?” you said awkwardly “Do you know how you got here, maybe?”

“… Y/n?” was all that the raven managed to say

You smiled at the sound of your name.

“Yes, it’s me. I take it as I didn’t age badly” you chuckle softly

“Oh, you clearly didn’t…” she looked you up and down “I have… no idea how I got here.” she then admitted

“What do you remember? Anything in particular?”

“We found a ritual in Goody’s spellbook but it didn’t work. And then we went to bed. That’s all.”

“The… the ritual? Oh god… Oh god…!” Your surprised expression soon turned into an offended one “So you didn’t wake up yet? I didn’t tell you anything about what I saw yet?”

The raven shook her head.

“Oh my god…” you put your hands on your hips

She was about to say something when the door opened again, revealing an older version of herself this time.

“Cara mia? What’s wrong? Lilith told me-”

“Wednesday Friday Addams!” you said, not letting her any more time, your index poking at her chest “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

Confusion was visible on her face. Then she looked over to her younger self, and her expression changed to an amused one.

“Oh, so it’s today?”

“Don’t dodge the subject! You told me you saw nothing!”

“Sorry my love, I did not want to risk our future”

You rolled your eyes but had a little smile on your face.

“You were scared I wouldn’t marry you if you told me? I would’ve married you even if you had a third arm or something”

Her expression softened a bit more, and she kissed you softly.

“Let’s talk about that later, okay?” then she turned to her younger self “you have the answer you wanted, don’t you?”

“No. I didn’t see anything.” she gave you one of those smiles only you got to see “But it’s normal as I didn’t have any question.”

“Oh, right, sure” you said with a light chuckle, before your gaze fell on your alarm clock “Oh, shit! We need to go to class!”

You quickly got out of bed and ran to your bathroom to get ready.

Wednesday watched you from the bed, halfway between amused and exasperation, looking at the date on your phone: ‘Sunday 12 May’.

I am going to marry an idiot… My idiot.

[Previous part]

[ladykailitha]

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 16

Just one more chapter left, and in cased you missed it, I won't be doubling up on chapters per day this week. The last chapter will be out next week.

Doubling up really killed the numbers for these stories, half the time people were only reacting and commenting on the SECOND chapter.

But don't worry, what this means is that your favorites you've been seeing snippets of on WIP will get quicker releases this way.

In this Eddie's rut progresses as normal, they talk about Steve's status, and Eddie and Benny learn some very interesting things about golden omegas.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12 Pt 13 Pt 14 Pt 15

****

Eddie came to and was sure that at least a day had passed, but he looked at the clock on Steve’s nightstand and frowned. It had only been five hours since his rut had started. He looked in the wastebasket and there were only three condoms in it which fit the time frame.

He looked around, but Steve wasn’t there. He sat up and the sheet that had been covering his waist slid off. He looked down and saw that his dick was sheathed with another condom.

There was some of Steve’s slick on the sheets, but considering Eddie was still in them, he figured Steve couldn’t change them yet.

He could hear Steve humming to a beat in the kitchen and padded out there.

He smiled fondly as he watched the omega dance around his kitchen to the music in his head. Bopping and hopping as he made a wholesome snack.

“That snack looks good, baby,” he said, his alpha rumbling happily, “but I would rather eat you.”

Steve squeaked. “Eddie! You’re awake! How do you feel?”

For the first time since he woke up, he took stock of his body, really examining it.

“Warm, sated...” he said furrowing his brow, “happy?”

Steve beamed at him. “Yay! That means your rut is progressing as it should. It seems like your body is adjusting better to the low light and you’re more lucid.”

Eddie came up behind him and buried his nose into Steve’s scent gland. “All because of you, sweetness.”

Steve squawked when Eddie picked him and spun him around.

When Eddie finally put him down Steve swatted at him playfully. “You absolute menace.”

Eddie cackled. “Yes, but I’m your menace.”

Steve turned around in his arms and kissed him deeply. Their cocks brushed against each other and he let out a low moan.

“So good...”

Eddie nipped at Steve’s chin. “Let’s get some food in us and then I want something else in you.”

Steve snorted. They ate and hydrated before Eddie picked Steve up bridal style and carried him back to the bedroom.

Eddie could feel himself sliding back into the blind haze of his rut, but the scent of the omega underneath him stirred some distant memory, but it was lost in the next moment when Steve moaned.

The pattern continued like that for the five days. Steve and Eddie taking care of each other while Eddie was lucid, Steve taking care him when he wasn’t.

Eddie had never experienced a rut that had gone so smooth. He understood why alphas paid top dollar for an escort to service their ruts if every one was like this.

He knew that he wouldn’t be able to spend another rut without Steve for as long as he was biologically able to experience ruts.

Each time he became lucid, he would become aware for longer. The last day having two hours before the rut took over him again.

But he used those two hours wisely. He talked to Steve.

“Baby,” Eddie said, from the sofa, “come sit for a bit. You know it won’t hit again for awhile, you might as well relax.”

Steve looked over at him and smiled. He padded over to the sofa and curled up onto Eddie’s lap.

“How are you feeling?” he murmured into Eddie’s neck.

“I’m good,” Eddie replied. “This was worth every penny. I see why it’s so popular.”

Steve chuckled. “I’m glad that it’s available to alphas that can’t afford escorts through clinics.”

“That’s a new thing, though right?” Eddie asked. “I don’t remember seeing them when I first presented.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, nodding. “It’s something that a lot of the major escort houses pushed for in recent years, if all alphas can get the same level of care that the rich do, then it lowers the chances of alphas turning feral from bad ruts.”

Eddie grinned. “It would have happened in the last five years or so, would it? Like say when a particular omega became popular?”

Steve blushed but didn’t deny it. Alpha health was something he had been passionate about for awhile. Helping everyone no matter how much money someone had was just the start of what he wanted to do. Mandating sex education for alphas. It was mandated for omegas and beta, but not alphas, because ‘alphas instinctively knew what to do’ with omegas. Which was bullshit.

“I thought so,” Eddie said.

Steve smiled back. “I’ve even got a non-profit going setting up education booths outside high schools for alphas to get pamphlets and other material about their reproductive health.”

“Ooh, ooh!” Eddie said, nearly vibrating with excitement. “We should throw a gala like the one where we met to get the awareness out there.”

“That’s a great idea, Eds,” Steve said, kissing Eddie’s jaw.

They settled down into a warm silence for awhile just taking in each other’s soothing presence.

Eddie nuzzled Steve ear to wake him. “Hey, you tired, sweetness?”

Steve roused himself and looked up at him bleary eyed. “I guess I am. You see this rough and tumble alpha has been keeping my hole hot and full for the few days. Trying to keep up with him is tiring me out.”

Eddie cackled. “Yeah, if he wears you out so bad, you should blacklist him or something.”

“I would, but I’m in love with his cock so...”

Eddie’s head reared back in mock indignation. “Excuse you!”

Steve laughed. He pressed a kiss to Eddie’s scent gland and the alpha purred. Steve’s omega chirped happily in response.

“I love your scent,” Eddie murmured. “It’s not like other escorts I’ve met.”

Steve looked up at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Chrissy, Elinor, Tommy,” Eddie said. “All smell too sweet. Like fruit rotting on the vine. A terrible but apt metaphor for their condition. But you smell spicy. But in sweet kind of way.”

“I do?” Steve really never thought about his own scent before.

Eddie nodded. “Gareth described it like Mexican hot chocolate. You know the kind that is spiced with peppers?”

Steve nodded back.

“Did you ever think that you might be a golden omega?” Eddie continued.

Steve’s eyes went wide. “Never. Like why would I? I’m not special.”

“That’s highly debatable, sweetheart,” Eddie admonished. “But your scent and everything you’ve told me about your family. It’s very possible you could be.”

“Is that why you wanted to court me?” Steve asked, soft and small. Like a mouse.

Eddie pulled Steve in closer. “No baby, I didn’t figure it out until later. I wanted to court you because you are funny and amazing and everything I’ve ever wanted in a mate.”

He lift Steve’s chin up and kissed him deeply. “Plus, I set up the rut way before I put the pieces together. Everything was set to protect me, but it seems to me that it may end up protecting you, too.”

“What do you mean?”

“As you know, golden omegas can only get pregnant during their heats,” Eddie said. “And since I’m a known scent breaker...”

Steve’s eyes went wide. “You think there is a chance I’ll go into a mini heat, don’t you?”

Eddie nodded. “When I first booked you, it was one of the things Robin was adamant about protecting you from.”

“She’s amazing like that,” Steve murmured.

“She really is,” Eddie cooed. “But it looks like our time is up, honey.”

Steve could feel Eddie’s cock harden under his ass. “Come to bed with me, alpha,” he purred. “Let me take care of you.”

Eddie let Steve pull him to his feet and they walked hand in hand to Steve’s bedroom for the last of Eddie’s rut.

****

When Eddie came to he was not in Steve’s apartment, he was in a smaller hotel room lying on a comfy sofa.

“I’m going to have to burn that sofa after all this,” Robin groused from a nearby armchair. “It will reek of alpha for months if I don’t. I can smell you from here.”

Eddie sat up. He was dressed in soft grey sweatpants and a loose white tank top. No underwear, but then he hadn’t brought any. He ran his fingers through his greasy and sweat slicked hair.

“Fuck,” Eddie grumbled.

“Your manager, Benny sent over a duffel of clothes for you for the next three days.”

Eddie saw the small duffel and snatched it up. “May I please request the use of your shower, milady?”

Robin laughed. “Please do.”

Eddie dashed for the door she pointed to and slammed the door behind him. He stripped his clothes and quickly got under the still cold water. He didn’t want to wait for it to heat up because he felt that gross. His dick was most clean because Steve took the time to wipe him down between condom changes, but he washed it good anyway.

The next thing he focused on was his hair, he had to wash it several times before it felt like it was supposed to. He ran conditioner through the ends of his curls with his fingers, gently massaging it in.

Then he worked on getting the sweat and stink off his body. He hated washing away Steve’s scent, but if he didn’t get clean, Eddie was going to scratch his eyeballs out.

Finally satisfied with how clean he was, he rinsed out his conditioner and stepped out.

He dried off quickly and rummaged through the bag.

Eureka!

Underwear.

Eddie got dressed and then cleaned up his mess, hanging up towels and making sure there wasn’t water everywhere. Uncle Wayne raised him better than to make a mess of someone else’s home.

He opened the door to find Robin and Benny waiting for him.

“Hey, Ben Ten, Birdie,” he greeted, concern dripping from every pore. “What’s happening?”

Benny smiled. “It’s nothing bad. Robin and I were just wrapping up the end of the contract.”

Eddie’s shoulders slumped in relief. He had almost forgotten about the whole thing because he was madly in love with Steve. He sat down on the sofa next to Benny.

“So everything is good?” he asked to be sure.

“Yup!” Robin said brightly. “You are now free to pursue the omega of your dreams.”

Eddie chuckled.

He thought for a moment, licking the bottom of his lip.

“Hey, Robin,” he asked, looking down at his clasped hands, “has an escort ever turned out to be a golden omega?”

Robin and Benny shared a glance.

“You think Steve might be one?” she asked. “Because if he is, that would be fucking hilarious.”

Eddie’s head snapped up.

“His parents have called him useless and a disgrace for being infertile for over a decade,” Robin explained. “To have him be a golden omega who could have been sold for ten to twenty times what he got auctioned for? That would be poetic justice.”

He nodded. “So do you think there’s a chance?”

“Sure,” she said with a half shrug. “The agency doesn’t shout it from the rooftops but yeah, there have been a couple of golden omegas that have come out of Starcourt.”

“How did they find out?” Benny asked, suddenly very interested in where this conversation was going.

“A combination of a couple different ways,” Robin said. “The first is how frequent their heats are. Most golden omegas go into heat more often then regular fertile omegas to make up for the fact they can only get pregnant during their heats.”

Eddie nodded, “And Steve’s are within the normal range?”

She waved her hand back and forth. “Kinda. It’s more times a year than a regular omega, but not outside the possibility if you know what I mean.”

“So say a regular omega has four heats a year and golden omega has eight,” Benny said, “Steve’s heat is somewhere in the middle?”

Robin nodded. “Exactly. The other thing is scent. Which you know Steve’s is unusual. But it’s unusual for an omega full stop.”

Benny and Eddie shared a look of confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Alphas scents are spices, like cinnamon, clove, cardamon, or spicy like peppers, or natural woody scents like pine or cedar,” she explained. “Omegas are fruit and floral scents. Sometimes flavors like chocolate or coffee. That includes golden omegas. Infertile omegas have what is always described as rotted fruit. Super sickly sweet.”

Eddie bit his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth. “But Steve’s is a mix between the two scents?”

Robin nodded again. “Right. The third thing that helps identify a non-tested golden omega is their resistance to scent breakers.”

“Fuck,” Eddie said. “That means he’s not a golden omega. I thought for sure he was. I even told him he was. That he was so special and precious beyond measure.”

She shook her head. “No, Eddie. That’s where you’re wrong. There is a final thing that helps identify if the omega in question is a golden or not.”

Eddie frowned, “What’s that?”

“There’s a reason golden omegas get their choice of any alpha in the country, if not world,” she said fiercely. “And despite what the media likes to paint it as, it’s not just the rich and elite.”

“It’s not?” Benny asked.

Robin shook her head again. “They’re looking for their soulmate.”

It was like someone had scooped out Eddie’s stomach. “Their what?”

“Soulmate,” Robin said. “The person who completes them. Someone who can break through their scent breaking resistance, someone who’s scent compliments their own, someone who when they share their heats and ruts it goes just about as perfectly as two humans can get. And if they meet that person?”

“Oh,” Eddie breathed.

“Oh.”

****

Soulmates! *jazz hands* Yeah, sorry I couldn't help myself.

Part 17

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @itsall-taken

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​

@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi

@maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv

@wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee

@littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @y4r3luv @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

@genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt

@apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @eyehartart @mangoinacan13 @demolvr

@ellietheasexylibrarian @rememberthatiloveyou @slowandsteddie @r0binscript @alyelf

@melodymeddler @mogami13 @annabanannabeth @disrespectedgoatman @manda-panda-monium