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caitlinsclark · 2 months

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CASUAL caitlin clark ¹ 𝘤𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 | summary: it was always casual for Caitlin. based on casual by chappell roan. ✰ bree's notes: Couldn’t get myself to fully write smut bc I feel like I’d tank at that ✰ No ACTUAL smut but alludes/briefly talks about it so, read at your own discretion!

part two wc: 3.1k masterlist and tag list

“I just don’t get why you keep doing this to yourself,” Kate was the voice of reason that you didn’t wanna face in the midst of your recklessness. And it sucked that you knew if you should be listening to anyone, it was her. She was Caitlin’s best friend and she only wanted the best for you as a teammate.

But she’d caught you in the act and had to give you tough love, “You’re going to go see her, aren’t you?” And you didn’t have the heart to lie anymore, though the shame building up in your stomach was far worse than the guilt of lying.

“You don’t have to tell me, Kate, I know,” You pleaded in attempt to get out of the repetitive conversation. It still brought up the sick feeling each time you faced it, the truth always hurts.

As a genuine friend, she tried to push harder, “She’s not that commitment person, and she doesn’t see you anymore than the physical things you two have been doing.” In a few months you knew you would thank her for the brutality of her words, but you couldn’t now when all you craved was the brunette that didn’t want you back.

“I don’t believe that.” The words were defiant, childish, and simply an act of denial and not even you believed them. But you so desperately wanted to believe that Caitlin saw you as more than that, you were teammates, you were friends. You always believed at some point the lines would blur for her the same way that they did for you.

But Kate, the guiding light that tried to wake you up from your Caitlin induced daydream, reminded you of the words from the direct source, “It’s casual, remember?” She said your name afterward with such sympathy, hating to be the bearer of bad news.

Embarrassment floods your veins as you remember the scene Kate had witnessed herself yesterday when you had been getting ready to head out with Caitlin.

You were balancing on one foot near the doorway as you tried to put on one of your shoes. You were surprised by a warm graze against your waist, until Caitlin’s hands slide down and settled to firmly hold your hips. She’d squeezed you when you murmured a small thank you and continued putting your shoes on.

“Cute,” Kate quipped as she passed by the door and the two of you, heading up the stairs. You didn’t think anything much of it and continued to put your sneaker on.

Caitlin abruptly released your middle, leaving you hitting somewhat aggressively against the wall next to you. You couldn’t stop the way your eyes glued to her, you wouldn’t believe it if you didn’t see her reaction for yourself.

The laugh that Caitlin let out was dismissive and light, “We’re not together.” She was able to look right at you, the amused expression remaining on her face all while you felt your resolve crumbling. You felt like a fucking fool, all that just to wish you’d looked away.

The assertive correction felt like a jab to the heart, but the quick realization that she was right cut through deeper for a second time. Sadly, you were quick to forget the slight offense. At least a slight offense is what you tried to tell yourself it was, when you were lead outside by Caitlin.

Her hands were everywhere on your skin as soon as you got into the comfort of her car, trailing tenderly up every inch of your body to rest on your neck.

“Someone could see, Cait,” You tried to stop her hand as it fought to go lower, breaking at the way her eyes stared down at your connected bodies.

You expected her to agree, considering the recent insistence on your casual nature. What you didn’t expect was for her to slide onto her knees, considering it was slightly difficult and crammed due to her stature, but she wasn’t deterred.

Minutes later, you were left gasping with a bruising grip in her hair. A sheen on both of your skins as the windows of the car fogged up and hid you both from the secrecy of your rendezvous.

The way she caressed your leg, a loving gaze glued onto you as she tried to slowly bring you down from the intense feeling, “You alright, baby?” She kissed the skin of your thigh, maintaining eye contact as she did so.

It didn’t feel casual. The way she gently and carefully pushed herself up to kiss you with a tenderness you’d never experienced didn’t feel casual. But all you could do was nod, breathless for more reasons than one.

You’d slipped out the door of your dorm with nothing more to say, because Kate wasn’t incorrect and you had to give her that. Caitlin wasn’t the right choice by any means and you would be the one getting burned eventually. But the thought of being burned in the end was less harrowing than the thought of letting go of Caitlin completely.

On the short stride over to her dorm, you began reminiscing over the last few months that you’d been playing this game of cat and mouse.

The first time was a punch to the gut that you always fought to push to the back your mind. It was midday and you’d felt a certain pull toward the kitchen, maybe hunger, maybe just intuition. Whatever got you there was looking out for you when you caught a brief mention of your name before entering the doorway.

You paused with purpose, leaning against the wall to hear better.

“Jada, it’s casual.” Caitlin’s voice was full of exasperation and you swallowed down the emotion threatening to push out when she sighed. She was right, you were casual.

So you took a deep breath, pretending it would make the scene disappear in your mind and trailed back upstairs. At least you knew where the two of you stood, that helped.

But that fact didn’t stop you from letting yourself fall further and further. Though ‘letting yourself’ was a generous way to put it considering there was never a choice.

The second memory was a beginning catalyst into an area of intimacy the two of you had never reached before. You swore the whole ‘no attachments’ thing had been thrown out the window. Caitlin had brought you home to her family, using an excuse that you had to try her mom’s famous chocolate chip cookies. The ones that inspired her to play a better game, not dramatic at all.

Apparently they weren’t at their full potential unless they were fresh and you just had to understand the hype she had around them.

You weren’t in any mood to oppose when Caitlin had her pretty brown eyes glimmering at you hopefully, the smallest of pouts forming on her lips at the thought of your denial.

She could get just about anything she wanted out of that face. And sadly she knew it for sure when you agreed embarrasingly fast.

When you guys had arrived at the beautiful home, she carried your bags with a loud protest of, “pretty people can’t do labor, silly.” You wanted to let the compliment soar through you and ignite a spark, but you were scared to let it get that far. Scared to read into this when she had clearly said something so different to some of your friends.

But upon being in the comfortable environment of her home, you got a glimpse at the goofy side of her personality coming out. It had made you see her in her full light, painting a beautiful image of the well rounded girl you had the honor of meeting the parents of.

Brent and Anne had welcomed you with open arms, something that Caitlin stood directly by your side for. She was almost glued to you once her parents let you go, greedily holding your waist to keep you close to her in a protective manor.

Her parents shared a specific look, one you’d seen too many times recently when you spent time with Caitlin. Ones she always somehow ignored, but you indulged in, some toxic part of you that held onto the idea that she could reciprocate.

The third time was a final push that not even your wildest dreams would’ve predicted as a possibility. Caitlin, the same girl who most definitely seemed offended at the insinuation of any relationship with you, eagerly showed your face when her mother FaceTimed her.

The excitement in Caitlin’s voice had you wanting to jump on her right there, “Here she is!” She leaned her entire body weight onto you in order to fit you both in the frame but you would never complain. Even if it did restrict your breathing.

Her mom grinned at the adorable picture of her daughter beaming in your presence, going as far as to take a screenshot to later send to Caitlin. The brunette had saved it to her phone immediately upon receiving but only hearted the message in response.

“I wanted to ask if the two of you wanted to come to the house on Long Beach for a few days,” She proposed with an air of charisma just like her daughter, “Everyone wanted to see you guys again, especially me.” If she had a hidden agenda of pestering you two about making it official that was nobody’s business but her own.

You had hesitated, glancing over at Caitlin for a reason to decline and were almost heart warmed to find her staring back at you with an encouraging smile.

You tried to find the most diplomatic answer there was, “Uh, if Caitlin wants me there. Of course, I’d love to.” You felt like you were completely failing to hide your nervousness as you shifted but still felt utterly distracted by Caitlin’s body heat encompassing you.

“Why wouldn’t I want you there?” The words came out so smooth, natural like she didn’t even have to think about them. You began to feel more flustered as she started rubbing your hand affectionately to soothe the intensity of the question.

You two had spent most of the trip hidden up in the comfort of your room, basking in the rare privacy of Long Beach. But you were brutally awaken with a cold return once you got back to Indiana, probably one that should’ve been expected.

This game of cat and mouse would never end. A light misting blurred your eyes when you started to realize that you were both toxically chasing one another, but not for the same reasons.

A hopeful part of you had built Caitlin up to an unreachable image in your mind. Not an unattainable one, but by her choice it was unreachable.

The resentment in your heart built rapidly as you turned things over and over in your head. Resentment for her or yourself, you really couldn’t tell.

It took a few long minutes to work up the courage to approach her door, but maybe something was looking out for you again. If you’d gone any earlier you were sure your heart might’ve just left your chest in agony.

The scene before you was bad enough when you only caught the end of it.

You’d watched as the door of her dorm room opened in front of you only an inch, a slight startle as another girl exited, adjusting her askew skirt and hair haphazardly. It was like looking in a brutally honest mirror as shock covered her features at being in caught.

“Oh, sorry!” She blushed, and you hated that you got a sense of deja vu, “I was just leaving.”

Awe couldn’t keep itself off your face, was any part of what you did meaningful? Even an ounce? Your eyes squeeze shut, wishing that it would take away the current resentment building up in you.

A pained laugh left your lips and you nodded, “Yeah, me too.” You had turned to walk in the direction you’d come in from when the door swung back open.

Caitlin had heard your voice from inside her dorm, a small drop in her stomach as she saw you practically ready to run away and knew you hoped she hadn’t seen you.

The brunette looked in between the two of you, an annoyingly calm persona that had you seething as you breathed out slowly.

A nod was exchanged between the two, a subtle hint toward what had just went down. God, you needed a bucket if this was gonna continue. The walking image of your regrets disappeared down the hallway, leaving you and Caitlin alone.

You continued to walk toward the exit but she grabbed your wrist gently, overpowering you slightly but not aggressively.

“Let go,” you breathed out in exhaustion, this mental game feeling like such a loss now. You had no more fouls left in you, game over.

“Nothing’s wrong, can’t we just have a good night?” The words of a smooth talker, the ones you always fell for. And you started to fall for it as you let her lead you back into her dorm.

“That doesn’t sit right with me, Cait.” You tried to assert yourself weakly but the grip your hands had on her arms didn’t do much to sway her. The power left your body the second she entered your proximity.

Her hands slowly reached out for your cheeks and you didn’t pull away, though your head screamed at you to. You couldn’t find it in you to pull away as she slowly leaned toward your lips.

With more than enough chances to tear yourself away, make her work harder for it, you still welcomed the feeling as you melted into her.

“I’m sorry,” She whispered against your lips, a sweet promise that almost had your mind willingly bringing her back in. There had to be something in the air that poisoned you like a drug every time she came around.

But the apology only made the last few minutes painfully real in your mind. The arm around your waist suddenly made you feel trapped instead of protected, the hand on your face feeling repetitive instead of breathtakingly new. How much had she reused on these other girls?

You pushed back slowly from her hold, the usual warmth she caused feeling like a brutal wake up call. Knowing that she was doing the same thing just moments before in this exact position made you want to fall over into a ball.

“You’re making this difficult.” Caitlin bluntly addressed your issue, crossed her arms over her chest to close herself off, “You’re making this really difficult, actually.”

“Cait, I’m not trying to,” The immediate crack in your voice that you’d been holding in for the last few months now made you wince as you stared up at the ceiling. The tears building up in your waterline made you feel so disgusted with yourself.

“Baby,” She’d addressed you absentmindedly, hitting another cord in you, “I said no attachments.” She reiterated like clockwork, a now robotic response to your emotional one. You wanted to scream at her to acknowledge anything, show the littlest ounce of empathy.

“I know,” but the gnawing feeling that stopped you from even looking in her direction right now felt a lot like an unhealthy attachment.

Caitlin stared hard at you, eyes tracing over your features but not in the usual adoring way you currently craved. This was where it finally blew up and you both knew it.

The room stayed quiet and you tried to calm the rapid beat of your heart, knowing this was ending only one way.

“Then what’s going on here?” Caitlin spoke like you were a nuisance and maybe you were, at least these feelings sure felt like it. But there was no world in which you wanted to carry this burden anymore.

She stared at you expectantly, making you shrink back and wipe under your eyes in a moment of insecurity.

You rubbed the skin of your forehead and croaked in a small voice, “You picked the wrong person to say no attachments too.” A small shrugged followed your words, already embarrassed at the thought of vocalizing your idiocy. What else did you have to lose?

“God,” Caitlin groaned as she took in your overly distraught figure, “I knew this was happening.” She tossed her headband with frustration, as if this was some inconvenience.

Oh, so that’s what you had to lose. The one pitiful ounce of you that believed Caitlin had any sort of care for you, even as little as the bond of teammates.

“What?” It was tiny in comparison to the booming voice the athlete in front of you talked with, full of insecurity and lacking the annoyance as well.

“I knew, I just didn’t wanna talk about it, okay?” She finally revealed, her hands finding home in her pockets. You could tell it was a way to shield herself from the conflict but you were already in too deep.

With a desperate noise you shook your head, trying to find the words, “That’s even worse, Caitlin.” Your breathing picked up and you ran your hands over to sweep your own hair back, trying to ground yourself in the overwhelming sensation of rejection.

“We’re teammates, I said I didn’t want attachments for a reason.” The nonchalance was evident in how she raised her eyebrows at you, challenging the thought of her having any fault.

“I thought we were at least friends first,” You scoffed and threw your arms up in a moment of agonizing heartbreak, “I thought that you’d at least value my feelings over a meaningless, convenient fuck. But that’s your definition of friendship.” The palms of your hands dug into your eyes, wishing for the tears to stop building. You refused to keep falling apart in comparison to her stoic reaction.

With quick hands you straightened yourself up and took a deep breath to gather your own mind. You turned to look at the brunette one last time who looked like a fish out of water at your change in pace.

“I hate that I let this drag on so long,” You whispered into the fragile environment, knowing that you probably wouldn’t return to it ever again. Caitlin couldn’t bear to look at you now, conveniently, and the final straw was her taking a step back from you.

You continued, “But it’s over and we’re not even going to address this again.” The firm and emotionless tone was a stark contrast to your previous one.

“I,” Her words stopped short, dying in between your now separating bodies. With a staggered step back, you gave her a half hearted smile.

“I’ll see you around, Clark,” You nodded like the words were easy, “casually.” The tiny jab was necessary and fulfilled a petty part of you.

The part of you that knew none of it had been casual.

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joemama-2 · 6 days

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this is not how you imagined your friday night would go.

you thought you’d be watching the stars by now after a nice dinner. maybe some compliments, maybe even a small kiss shared. or some held hands.

but no. because currently you’re seated on the expensive couch, eyes fixated on some random nature documentary because you don’t have the courage to face the six year old boy to your left and demand him to stop staring.

you like kids, but this one oddly makes you nervous, scared almost.

your date is in the bathroom taking way too long and you’re half tempted to up and leave. your posture is stiff, forcing yourself to find the screen interesting.

our of your peripheral, you can see the boy raise his spoonful of ice cream to his mouth, head tilting like you’re one of the animals being observed on the TV.

“are you the one he keeps talking about?”

confusion strikes you as you finally turn your head to face him. your titled head mirroring his own. “um…..i’m not sure.”

a part of you feels flattered by the sudden fact. is satoru really talking about you? but then an unsettling feeling takes place, one of hesitation and jealously. or is he talking about someone else?

“you have the black Cane Corso, right?”

ah, so it’s the former. you smile. “oh, yeah. that’s me.”

“what’s his name?” the little boy asks you, shifting his small body as the talk of dogs gains his attention by the second.

“sunny.”

his brows pinch together. “why sunny?”

“because he was a stray, i found him a box on a very hot day.”

he hums and nods before asking yet another question. you forget how curious children can be. “is he nice?”

you chuckle. sunny has the stereotype of being aggressive due to his breed and size, but he’s anything but. he’s your gentle giant who gets scared of butterflies and plastic water bottles. “he’s really nice, he loves meeting new people and licking.”

you playfully stick your tongue out with a look of a faux grimace. this gets the small boy to crack a hint of a smile. it warms your heart almost instantly. “you like dogs?” you ask him, voice softening.

he nods automatically. “i really like dogs, i have two dogs. one is white and the other is black.”

“oh wow,” your eyebrows raise. “that’s so cool, are they big too?”

“mhm.” he nods.

you do a small look around. “where are they?”

he simply shrugs and answers, “they only come out sometimes.”

you want to ask what he means by that, but you figure satoru would best know. speaking of, he must be shitting a big one or he’s trying to calm his nerves inside that bathroom down the hall.

the little boy hesitates, like he wants to ask another question but isn’t sure if he should. you give him an encouraging nod and he sighs. “can you bring sunny next time?”

—————————————————————

“when you said you were fostering, i assumed a pet or something. not an actual child.” you tell Satoru as he’s walking you to your apartment door.

the two of you stop in front and he takes this time to grin. “do i not look like a boy dad?”

your eyebrow raises with an unamused expression. “no, first off, you look like a girl dad. and second off, does he consider you his dad?”

“nah, not at all. more like an older brother if anything. or maybe that annoying uncle everyone hates.” he reaches forward to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “did he like you?”

“i hope so.” your lips purse. “i wasn’t exactly ready to pitch myself as a good person tonight to some kid.”

satoru chuckles, thumb lingering on your cheek. “don’t need to pitch yourself, just be you and he’ll like you just as much as i do. well—actually—hopefully not as much. i’d hate to have competition.”

you can’t help but roll your eyes. “he did mention a next time, though. wants me to bring my dog.”

“you mean that oversized human on all fours?”

your hand collides with his shoulder. he laughs and intertwines your fingers with his. “kidding, kidding. don’t get violent, at least not now.”

leaning down, his lips kiss your forehead smoothly, they linger for a few seconds before he mutters against your skin. “his names megumi, i hope you’ll get along.”

your stomach flutters during this moment, relishing in the easy and comfortable intimacy. you nod and murmur back. “of course.”

he pulls back and smiles down at you. just as he’s about to speak another cheesy line, you beat him to it.

“so….you talk about me a lot?”

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janiehellion · 19 days

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Breaking Through

ONESHOT

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Daryl’s reckless behavior on a supply run nearly gets him killed, pushing you to remind him how to stay humble. Little did you know, his attitude was hiding something much deeper that only you could break through.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: MOMMY KINK / SMUT / BODY WORSHIP / ORAL SEX / EDGING / TEASING / HURT / COMFORT / AFTERCARE / LANGUAGE

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 7.799

ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ: LATE S5 & EARLY S6

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: @mayday2007

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ: I truly hope I did your request justice! I also hope that the length of it is okay and that it met your expectations. And thank you so much for your patience!

MASTERLIST

You leaned against the porch, one of the few spots in Alexandria that didn’t make you want to rip your hair out. It all felt too damn clean sometimes, too fake even. Here, it was easy to forget how the world had gone to shit, but... Daryl? He never let himself forget. He was walking around by the gate, looking like an animal waiting for a fight, and you knew why...

Rick and a few others were getting ready for a run—another trip outside the safe walls to scavenge for supplies. But more than that, it was an excuse for Daryl to escape the suffocation of Alexandria. He’d rather be out there with the walkers than in here, playing pretend.

"Daryl," you called out, and he stopped pacing and turned to face you, his eyes narrowing like he was already preparing for a lecture from you.

"What?" He grunted, sounding as defensive as ever. He was always on alert these days, and it was only getting worse since you arrived in Alexandria.

"Listen," you started, stepping down from the porch and running toward him as he prepared to leave. "I know you hate this place, and I understand; I really do, but you need to keep your head on straight out there. You’re not just out there for yourself. You’ve got Rick, Glenn, and Michonne with you today. You fuck anything up; they could get hurt too. Please, just be careful."

He looked away, scuffing his boot against the ground like a stubborn child who didn’t want to hear what you were saying. "Ain’t no damn kid. Can handle myself," he growled back at you.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. This wasn’t the first time you’d had this conversation, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. "You might be able to handle yourself, sure, and we all know that you are more than capable of doing that, but that doesn’t mean you can act reckless. You need to listen to Rick, do what he says, and stop acting like a damn brat. You keep pulling this shit, and one of these days, it’s gonna bite you in the ass. Literally."

Daryl clenched his jaw and scoffed, and for a moment, you thought he might actually argue with you. But then he just shook his head. "Yer done now?"

"No, Daryl, I’m not done," you snapped back, feeling your frustration grow and almost boil over. "I’m tired of watching you do this bullshit, okay? We’re all trying to make this work, and you’re out there acting like you’ve got a death wish. We’ve lost too many people already, and I’m not about to lose you or anyone else because you couldn’t keep your damn self in check."

For a second, you saw something like vulnerability, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He looked away again, like he was trying to block out your words, not wanting to listen to you.

"Just... think about what I said, okay?" You said, the tone in your voice softening slightly. You didn’t want to push him too hard, but you couldn’t just let this slide again all the time. "I’m not trying to piss you off, Daryl. I just don’t want to see you get hurt. We all need you to come back. I... I need you to come back."

He didn’t say anything; he just gave you a nod before finally turning away. But as you watched him walk toward Rick, you couldn’t ignore the feeling that something bad was going to happen on this run.

Rick was already waiting by the gate, his hands on his hips as he looked around Alexandria. He seemed to be tired, but when he saw you approaching as well, he gave you a small smile.

"Did you talk to him?" Rick asked, his voice whispering, so only you could hear.

"Yeah," you replied, glancing over at Daryl, who was busy playing around with his knife. "But you know how he is. Stubborn as hell."

Rick laughed a little, but there was no real humor in it. "Yeah. Isn't that the truth? Don’t worry, I'll keep an eye on him while we’re out there, alright? If he does something stupid..."

"You'll make sure he doesn’t," you interrupted, not needing him to finish the sentence.

"Alright. Got it. We’ll be back before you know it," Rick said, louder now and turning to the gate as it opened, and Glenn arrived with the car. "We’re heading out. Stay close, keep quiet, and don’t take any unnecessary risks. We get what we need, and we get back. That's it."

You watched as Daryl took his crossbow and walked with Rick and the others over to the truck. You were worried, sure, but you forced yourself to stay calm. This was Daryl Dixon, after all. He was tough, he was resourceful, and he’d been through far worse than this. But still, there was that uncomfortable feeling in the back of your mind, the one that told you things weren’t going to go smoothly today.

Rick took Daryl aside in the meantime. "Listen, Daryl. We stick to the plan, and we get back without any extra bullshit. You got that?"

Daryl glared at Rick but didn’t say anything. You knew that look; it was the one that said he was going to do what he wanted anyway.

With that, Rick and the others—Glenn and Michonne, in this case—headed out, leaving you in Alexandria with the rest of the group.

You turned away, heading back to the house, but your thoughts were still with Daryl. You just hoped he’d listen to you for once, or rather, Rick. Because if he didn’t, you weren’t sure you’d be able to forgive him—or yourself—if something went wrong.

The truck stopped at the side of a parking lot some time later. Abandoned cars were standing around all over the place, with their windows shattered and rotting corpses still sitting in some of them. It was a graveyard. Rick turned off the engine and looked over to the building, his face already showing that things were about to get rough.

"This place is full of walkers," Rick mumbled, looking around the area. "Okay… We get in, we get out. No fucking around. Got it?"

Everyone nodded, even Daryl, though the look in his eyes told a different story. Alexandria was killing him slowly, suffocating him with its safety and daily routine, and one could see he was just waiting to break free, to remind himself what it felt like to be out there again, in the real world, and not living in an illusion.

"Stick together," Rick continued, his eyes narrowing at Daryl like he could read his mind. "We’re hitting that grocery store, grabbing what we can, and getting the hell out. Nothing else, no bullshit."

Daryl grunted in response, his hand tightening around his crossbow. He wasn’t making any promises; that was clear enough, but at least he wasn’t outright showing it. That would have to be good enough. The four of them got out of the truck, their weapons ready, and slowly made their way toward the store. It looked like it had been raided a few times already, but Rick had heard from Aaron that a shipment had been left behind in the storage rooms—lots of canned food, water, and even medicine inside the small pharmacy of the store, locked up in the back, just waiting to be taken. Easy, if they played it safe.

Of course, playing it safe had not been Daryl’s way of doing it lately, not when his blood was boiling, and especially not since the prison, Terminus, and the other hell everyone went through. And especially not ever since Alexandria.

They went through the side entrance, which was once for the people that had worked there, the glass doors hanging off their hinges, and one could easily guess how most of the walkers got into the store in the first place, apart from those walkers that’ve died inside while scavenging. The inside of the store was pure chaos, with broken shelves, rotten food, and other empty products all across the floor. They moved quietly as Rick led the way, his Colt Python out and ready as always, Glenn close behind with his knife drawn, and Michonne with her sword, while Daryl was at the end, pointing his crossbow around as well. They soon made it to the back of the store, where the stockroom doors were, without drawing any attention so far.

"Alright," Rick whispered, motioning for the others to cover him. "Glenn and I will try to open the door. Michonne, watch our backs. Daryl, you—"

But before Rick could finish, Daryl was already moving. He didn’t like waiting, didn’t like standing around while others decided what to do, or having to wait for a plan. Without a word, he went off to the right, disappearing down one of the side aisles, his crossbow at the ready.

"Daryl!" Rick hissed, but there was no stopping him.

"Shit," Glenn grumbled in a bit of annoyance and panic, his eyes looking at Rick. "Where the hell is he going? What is he doing?"

Rick shook his head in frustration. "Just... just stay here," he ordered before walking after Daryl, cursing to himself with every step.

Daryl moved fast, his crossbow raised as he approached the loading dock at the back of the store from another side. He could hear the sounds of walkers moving behind the metal door, but this was exactly what he was looking for. He shoved the door open with a grunt, with the door making a noise that could be heard all throughout the whole store.

The walkers inside turned at the sound, and they immediately moved forward, their arms outstretched.

"C’mon, ya ugly bastards," Daryl mumbled, the first bolt killing the nearest walker in an instant. The walker fell to the ground, but the others kept coming.

He reloaded quickly, but just as he was about to fire again, a hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling him off balance. He hadn’t noticed the few other walkers, hidden in an open employee restroom nearby, their fingers grabbing his vest with their teeth only inches away from his face.

"Fuck!" Daryl growled, kicking the walker in front of him back and grabbing his knife. But he soon stumbled, falling down to the floor with the two of them on top of him. The impact knocked the knife from his hands, letting it slide across the floor, just out of reach, as he struggled to push the walkers off.

Then, just as the walkers’ teeth were about to bite into his flesh, several gunshots could be heard. Daryl gasped for breath, shoving the dead off him as he got to his feet, his heart racing while he looked over at Rick standing in the doorway with his Colt Python.

"You stupid son of a bitch," Rick said, lowering the gun. "What the hell were you even thinking?"

Daryl wiped the blood from his face, glaring at Rick but not saying a single word. He didn’t need to—he knew he’d fucked up, and Rick certainly knew it too.

But Rick didn’t wait for an explanation. "We need to hurry. Get your damn ass back to the truck. Now!"

For now, Daryl didn’t argue. He grabbed his crossbow and knife, putting it over his shoulder as he moved past Rick and over to Glenn and Michonne. He could feel Rick’s eyes on his back, judging him, and it took everything in him not to lash out. But he knew Rick was right. He’d been reckless, and it had nearly cost him his life. Not only that, but the supply run failed with the other walkers in the front of the store now moving toward the storage room.

Once outside, Daryl couldn’t ignore the thought that he’d fucked up more than just the run. He’d broken the trust, not just with Rick but with you. And he knew he’d have to face the consequences when he got back.

The sun was starting to set when you saw Rick and the others coming through the gate. You’d been waiting, walking around Alexandria, trying to distract yourself. But the deal had been clear—Rick would bring Daryl back in one piece and tell you every detail. But the moment you caught sight of Rick, you knew something had gone wrong. It was written all over his face, as was the fact that they had no supplies with them.

"Rick," you called out, running over to him.

He looked up at you, nodding and narrowing his eyes. You hated that look. It meant bad news, and you were tired of bad news.

"What happened?" You demanded as he walked next to you. "Where’s Daryl?"

"He’s fine," Rick said, holding up a hand to calm you down, though it didn’t do shit for your nerves. "I don't know where he is right now. Jumped right out of the truck. Physically, he’s okay. But, hell, it was close. Too close. Again."

Your stomach dropped at his words. This was getting out of hand. "What do you mean, 'close'?"

Rick rubbed the back of his neck, looking away for a moment. "We were in that store Aaron told us about, wanting to get the supplies. Daryl decided to go off on his own, like he always does lately. Didn’t wait for us as a backup, just did his own thing. Not even telling us that there was an easier way and that he has seen it. Next thing I know, he’s nearly got two walkers biting into his damn neck."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You asked, your hands balling into fists at your sides. "I told him—hell, we both told him so many times—not to pull that lone wolf bullshit anymore! And he still did it? I can’t fucking believe it!"

Rick nodded. "Yeah. Same old Daryl, too stubborn for his own good. I got there in time, but if I hadn’t... well, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now."

You sucked in a breath, trying to calm the rage inside you. But it was hard—damn hard—when you pictured Daryl almost getting himself killed because he couldn’t follow simple instructions. "What the hell is wrong with him, Rick? Why does he keep doing this shit? Is Alexandria that bad for him? I mean, yeah, we all aren’t used to this... illusion, but hell, we’re at least trying to make the best of it! All of us!"

Rick sighed, leaning against the porch railing once you both arrived at the house. "I don’t think it’s only about Alexandria, not entirely. But yeah, it’s too controlled, too... fake. So he goes out there, trying to prove he’s still... still who he was out there. But it’s not like none of us tries the exact same thing. We all do. Or did."

You shook your head in frustration. "I get it; I do. But we can’t keep going on like this. He’s going to get himself killed—or worse, get someone else hurt. I’m fucking done sitting around, hoping he’ll pull his head out of his damn ass!"

Rick looked at you with a small smile. "By now I was thinking the same thing on the way back. We’ve tried to talk sense into him, but he isn’t listening. He’s too stubborn."

"That’s it," you finally said. "I’m handling this. If he won’t listen to you, maybe he’ll finally listen to me. But one way or another, this shit stops today, I swear."

Rick’s eyebrows moved up in surprise before he nodded slowly. "You sure? I don’t think you should push him into a corner."

You smirked, but it was more due to annoyance than amusement. "Oh, I’m sure. He’s going to learn today that there’s more than one way to get his damn ass in line. Trust me, Rick. Otherwise… Otherwise, I just don’t know what to do anymore."

Rick laughed a little and shook his head. "Alright then. Just don’t go too hard on him. And you must remember that it takes time. With… all of this."

You waved him off, already halfway down the steps of the porch. "He’ll be fine, Rick."

As you headed toward the garage, where you knew Daryl was probably working on his bike, your mind was already racing with what you were going to say. This wasn’t just about Daryl acting like a reckless asshole—this was about keeping him and the others alive, keeping him from throwing away everything you’d fought so hard for in this new world, with the rest of the group.

The moment you stepped into the garage, he barely looked your way, too focused on tightening a bolt that didn’t even need any more tightening. But you weren’t about to let him ignore you, not after what Rick had told you.

"Daryl," you started, but he only grunted in response, and that was about it—just a damn grunt, like he couldn’t be bothered to reply with words. And it pissed you off how he could be so nonchalant after nearly getting himself killed.

"Look at me," you snapped, stepping closer to him. "I said... Look at me, Dixon."

He paused, his hand stilling on the wrench, before finally looking into your eyes with a scoff.

"You think you can just go off on your own and do whatever the fuck you want? Well, guess what, Daryl? You almost got your damn throat ripped out today. And for what? Because you couldn’t listen? Because you’re too stubborn to accept that you’re part of a community now, and not some lone wolf out there in the woods with a group he helps out every now and then?" You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Ain’t like that," he mumbled, but it didn’t really sound like he was trying to defend himself.

"Bullshit!" You shot back, stepping even closer until you were right in his face, close enough to see the way his eyes widened slightly. "It’s exactly like that, and you know it. And for what? To prove something? To whom? You ain’t gotta prove anything to me, Daryl. And certainly not our group. But you do owe it to us to stop acting like a fucking idiot!"

He turned away from you, but you weren’t done yet. "This isn’t just about you anymore, Dixon. Every time you pull this shit, you put everyone at risk. Everyone! You get bit, we lose a member of this group. A member of our damn family! You die, and we all suffer! Do you even get that? Or are you that stuck with your own damn head up your ass that you can’t see that?"

"Ain’t need ya shittin’ on me," he growled, his voice quiet, but you caught something like guilt in it. "Can handle my ass."

"Clearly," you snapped at him with sarcasm. "Because you handled yourself so well today that Rick had to pull your ass out of a walker’s mouth. Real smooth, Daryl! Real fucking smooth!"

He flinched at that, his eyes narrowing as he turned back to face you. "Ain’t like I needed any damn help."

You didn’t back down, though. You were way past that. "And that’s the problem, Daryl. You think that you don’t need anyone. But guess what? You do. You need us, and we need you. So stop acting like an asshole and start thinking about what you’re doing to everyone else."

For a second, you thought he might lash out. But instead, he just looked at you—really looked at you—like he was trying to figure something out. "Why ya care s’ much?" He finally asked.

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "Because I give a shit, you damn idiot. Because I... care about you more than anyone else here even knows, and I’m not about to watch you throw your life away over some macho bullshit, or whatever you’re trying to act like. You think I want to lose you? You think any of us do?"

He stared at you. "Ain’t tryna make shit harder," he muttered, looking down at the ground, shrugging his shoulders. "Jus’... can’t stand it ‘ere sometimes. Ain’t me ‘round ‘ere."

"Who you are isn’t some reckless idiot who doesn’t give a damn about anyone else. Who you are is someone who’s saved more lives than you can count, someone who’s part of a family now. And yeah, maybe it’s different here and maybe it’s hard, but that doesn’t give you the right to check out whenever you feel like it, as if this community is a fucking hotel!"

He didn’t say anything; he just kept looking at you with those blue, searching eyes, like he was waiting for you to give him something—some kind of direction.

You took a deep breath. "Daryl, you need to stop this shit. You need to stop before you get yourself killed. And if you won’t listen to Rick, then you’ll damn well listen to me. Got it?"

"Yeah," he said, almost whispering. "Got it."

"Good," you said. "Because this stops now. You’re done running off, done putting yourself at risk for no damn reason. From now on, you listen, just like before. We’re all a big team, Daryl, and we still are despite everything. Understand?"

"Yeah… Do ya still lo—" He started but stopped himself from speaking any further. "Are ya mad?"

"What? No, I’m not mad," you answered, stepping back to leave, wanting to give him some space. "But I’m hurt and disappointed."

Daryl sat there for a long time after you left. He gritted his teeth, and his fists were clenched, but it wasn’t anger. It was guilt. Shame even. All he knew was that he’d fucked up.

"Stupid, stupid fuckin’ idiot," he mumbled to himself, running a hand through his hair while he could still hear your voice in his head. "Fuckin’ piece o' shit. Can’t even keep yer damn head straight."

He felt like a fool, like a stubborn kid who’d just been put in his place. But it wasn’t just the anger that stuck with him—it was the look in your eyes, the pain and fear of what could’ve happened to him.

"Gotta make this right," he grumbled, now walking around the garage. "Ain’t gonna let her think I’m some reckless asshole who don’t care ‘bout nothin’." He rubbed the back of his neck. "She’s right… Been actin’ like a damn idiot. But… shit, need t’ prove I ain’t just some fuckup."

He knew you’d left him alone on purpose, letting him think about it, just like you’ve done several times before. But this time, he wasn’t going to sit here and wait for you to come back. He had a plan—a rather half-baked plan, but it was all he had. He needed to show you how much you meant to him and how much he needed you.

"Fuck, she’s gonna kill me," he sighed, shaking his head as he made his way out of the garage. And he knew exactly where and in what house he was going to find you.

You were already half asleep, lying on the floor on a mattress, when you felt someone being there—before you even opened your eyes. It was Daryl, of course, kneeling over you as he carefully pulled the sheets back.

"What the hell are you doing, Dixon?" You mumbled, still groggy. "Leave me alone."

He didn’t answer right away; he just pressed a kiss to your shoulder, then another, moving down your arm, his lips barely touching your skin. It was slow on purpose, like he was trying to worship every inch of you to make up for all the stupid shit he’d done. And it was working, even if it pissed you off that he thought he could just... seduce his way out of this.

"Daryl," you warned, but your voice was weak due to the way his strong, big hands were now sliding down your sides to your waist.

"‘M sorry," he whispered, before he kissed the sensitive spot on your neck. "Fucked it up, I know that. But need ya to know... I ain’t a fool. I need ya, more than ya fuckin’ know."

You wanted to stay mad, to shove him away from you and tell him to get his shit together, but his touch—God, it was like he knew exactly what he was doing, like he was taking away your anger with every kiss and every touch of his hands. And when he put his head lower, kissing along your ribs after he pulled up your shirt, you felt almost frustrated.

"Daryl," you breathed out as a warning again, but he didn’t stop. He slid his hands further up your shirt, pulling it over your head as he kissed down your ribs, his fingers grabbing your body like he was trying to show you that he was still alive.

"Need ya," he mumbled against your skin, his voice sounding almost desperate. "Need ya t’ know I ain’t takin’ this for granted."

"Daryl, stop…" You started, but your words were cut off by a gasp as he found that spot just above your waist, his lips kissing you harder, and his teeth softly biting your skin. You felt a shiver run through you, and hell, you hated how much you wanted this, how much you wanted him to keep going.

"I’ll stop if ya want me to, I swear," he whispered, but he didn’t stop, not really. His hands slid down, undoing your pants and wanting to slide them down, which made you stop breathing for a moment.

You were looking at him, your eyes narrowing. "You think you can just—" You started, but then he shut you up—kissing you hard and long, cutting off your words. And fuck, if it didn’t make your whole body shiver with need.

"Can’t help it," he muttered against your lips, his voice a little shaky, like he was losing control. "Can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout ya, ‘bout how much I need ya."

"You think this makes up for what you did? For your reckless behavior?" You asked, shaking your head slightly.

"Nah," he admitted. "Gotta show ya somehow. Gotta show ya how much I fuckin’ care."

You grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands away from your pants, even though you were already aching for him. "You don’t get to touch me like that," you said. "Not until I say so."

He swallowed hard, his breath stopping as he nodded, his eyes wide. "Please," he whispered, looking up at you and waiting for permission.

"Please what?" You demanded, tightening your grip on his wrists. "You think you can just come in here and expect me to forgive you? After everything?"

"Nah," he stammered, his eyes looking down to the floor again. "But… I need ya. I need ya t’ see that I can make it right."

"You wanna make it right, Daryl?" You asked again. "Then you’re gonna do exactly what I say, like I said."

"Yeah," he answered, his body almost trembling with the need to make you forgive him. "I’ll do whatever ya want."

You let go of his wrists, letting them fall back to his sides. "Take off your clothes," you ordered, the tone in your voice leaving no room for argument.

He hesitated for just a second, but then he started to stand up and get out of his clothes, his hands shaking as he got out of his shirt, then his pants, and the rest, until he was standing there, naked and vulnerable before you.

"Now get back on your knees," you demanded, watching as his eyes widened.

He dropped to his knees, waiting for your next command. And fuck, if that didn’t send a rush of power straight through you.

You stood over him, your hand reaching out to grab his hair, pulling his head back so he was forced to look up at you. "Look at me."

And he did. He slowly looked up in shame.

"You don’t get to play the lone wolf out there," you continued, stepping closer, your hand grabbing his chin, moving his head up further. "Not anymore. You almost got yourself killed."

"I know," he muttered. "‘M sorry..."

He wanted—no, he needed—to show you how he felt about his mistakes, and he was ready to do it on his knees if that’s what you demanded.

You let go of him, letting him fall forward, as you lay back down onto the mattress. "Show me," you simply said.

And he did—God, he did... He kissed every inch of you, his lips moving lower, his hands gripping your hips like he was afraid you might disappear, and he held onto you like you were the only person able to keep him safe.

He didn’t need to be told twice—he knew what he had to do to make things right.

You leaned back on the mattress, spreading your legs just enough to invite him closer, and watched his hands shake a little as they slid up your thighs.

"Yes," he whispered quietly. He was trying to be tough, but you could see through it. The man was already lost in you, in the need to make you feel good to make up for his earlier bullshit.

No, he couldn’t keep his hands off you; the way he now nearly ripped off the rest of your clothes was almost urgent.

"Goddamn," he whispered, his eyes wide and hungry as he took in the sight of you. "So fuckin’ beautiful."

His hands were trembling as he reached for your bra, fumbling with it before finally getting it off. He slid it off your shoulders, throwing it over to your pants on the floor, his eyes never leaving your breasts.

Daryl’s mouth went dry as he leaned in, his lips stopping just above one nipple. "Can’t believe yer lettin’ me touch ya like this," he whispered, more to himself than to you. Then he closed his mouth around your nipple, his tongue moving over it, making you gasp.

He sucked and licked, using his teeth just a little, sliding them lightly against it, while his other hand was pinching and rolling the other.

"Fuck, Daryl," you groaned, your hands moving through his hair, holding him close as he worshiped your breasts like they were the most important things in the world. "Don’t stop."

He growled against your skin and kept going; he kept sucking, licking, and teasing until your nipples were swollen and hard, sensitive to every little touch.

He soon pulled back, a line of spit connecting his mouth to your nipple before it broke, and he greedily licked over it once more. His eyes were full with need, his breathing heavy as he looked up at you, like he was waiting for permission to keep going.

"You’re going to be a good boy and keep worshipping me?" You asked, your voice teasing and commanding him at the same time.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Please… Need t’…"

"Then do it," you ordered, and that was all the encouragement he needed.

Daryl’s hands moved lower, sliding down your sides, moving along your hips before coming to a stop between your legs. His fingers brushed against your pussy, finding you already wet and wanting, and he let out a growl.

He started slowly, almost with hesitation, like he was worshipping at some holy altar. His lips brushed over the inside of your thighs, soft at first, but when you grabbed his hair again, he got the message. His mouth found your pussy the moment he ripped off your panties, and it was as if a switch flipped.

Daryl buried his face between your legs, his tongue working desperately, like he couldn’t get enough of you. You let out a moan, your hand tightening in his hair, guiding him but also keeping him under your control.

"Fuck, Daryl," you breathed out. "Just like that."

And he couldn’t stop, even if he wanted to. Every part of him was focused on you—on the taste of you, the way you trembled when he hit just the right spot. He was completely at your mercy, with the need to prove himself to make you proud.

You could feel him moan against you and how he was getting lost in it, in you. You knew he was desperate for more, desperate for any sign that he was doing good and that you’d forgive him. But you weren’t about to make it easy for him. Not yet, at least.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to get him away from you, and he looked up at you, his lips wet and parted, already missing the taste of you. "Please," he growled out, and you could see the need to do more, to have more of you.

"You keep listening to me. You understand?" You asked, caressing his head gently.

"Yeah," he stammered and nodded in return.

You pushed his head back down, with his tongue slipping inside your pussy almost immediately, like he was trying to eat out every bit of forgiveness he could get.

And fuck, did it feel good. The way he was eating out your pussy, every little move of his tongue, the way he sucked on your clit just hard enough to make you see stars—it was like he was made for this, made to worship you.

"Fuck, don’… don’ make me stop," he growled out in between. He was trembling now, hands still gripping your hips tightly, his eyes wide with something that seemed close to panic, like he couldn’t stand being away from you for even a second.

But you leaned down, grabbing his chin, forcing him to look at you. "You want to make this right? You wait until I’m ready."

He nodded quickly, swallowing hard, his eyes pleading without a word and barely holding it together. He was ready to do anything you asked, to wait as long as you wanted him to, just for a chance to taste you again.

"Good boy," you moaned, suddenly pulling him up to kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips. He kissed you like he was starved for it, holding on for dear life.

And you could feel how hard he was—the desperate twitching of his already leaking cock against your thigh—but you weren’t done teasing him yet. "You’re doing so good, Daryl. Go on now."

"Yes, mommy," he whimpered, the word coming out of his mouth before he could even stop it.

"What did you just call me?" You asked in shock and froze.

Daryl’s eyes widened in shock and panic. "Didn’t mean t’ say that," he said, his voice trembling. "I jus’—"

"Say it again," you commanded, cutting him off. "Say it."

He swallowed hard, his eyes looking around as if searching for an escape, but he knew he couldn’t hide from you. "Yes, mommy," he whispered quietly, a shiver running through him as he said the word again.

But you didn’t miss the way his eyes dropped to the floor. "Good boy," you simply answered. "Go on…"

He didn’t hesitate, his hands following the curves of your body again, his lips following close behind. He kissed down your neck, in between your breasts, along your stomach as he moved lower, his hands soon enough sliding up your thighs and over your pussy.

"Shit," he mumbled, his eyes widening as he realized just how ready you were for him. "Yer so fuckin’ wet."

He didn’t say anything else, too focused on what he was doing. His fingers moved through your wet folds, teasing you until you were trembling with need, and he circled your clit with his thumb slowly on purpose, watching your face for every little reaction.

And one moan—that was all he needed. He leaned in, his mouth replacing his fingers, his tongue sliding over your clit, licking and sucking it gently all over. He didn’t rush, didn’t hurry, and took his time.

"Fuck, Daryl," you moaned, your fingers gripping his hair, holding him in place as he devoured you. "That’s it… don’t stop."

He didn’t need to be told twice. He kept going, kept licking, sucking, and teasing until you were right on the edge and close to coming.

The control he was giving you made you feel powerful, and hell, if that wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever experienced.

"Please, mommy," he begged. "Lemme make ya cum now."

"Keep going," you commanded, feeling yourself getting closer due to his words. "Don’t stop. Oh, fuck…"

He obeyed, and when you finally came, you gasped and moaned, your body arching and trembling under the force of it. But as soon as you began to come down from your orgasm, you noticed how he started to get more aggressive, his hands gripping your hips harder. He pulled back slightly, his eyes burning into yours as he moved back up.

"Wanna fuck ya," he growled almost primal, grabbing his cock and pushing it against your pussy.

But you shoved him back. "Not so fast," you said. "You’re going to do it my way."

He looked at you with frustration and desperation. "But… I need ya," he said, his voice cracking a little bit. "Please!"

You didn’t give in. Instead, you watched as he tried to hold himself back. "If you want more, you’re going to have to do it my way, Daryl. How many times do I have to tell you?"

"Yeah, ‘kay," he murmured and nodded, his voice trembling.

"Not yet," you said, wrapping your hand around his shaft. The hardness of his cock was pulsing against your hand, and you enjoyed the power it gave you. "You’re going to wait a little longer."

Daryl’s breath hitched, his fingers digging into the mattress as he tried to control himself. "Please," he begged, his voice raw and desperate. "Need it."

You only smiled, slowly stroking him, your movements maddeningly slow. "You want more?" You teased, leaning closer to him. "You want me to keep going? To make you cum already as well?"

He nodded quickly. "Yes! Please, mommy. Can’t take it no more!"

You took your time, each move up and down his shaft, making him moan and writhe.

"Fuck, don’ stop," he groaned. "Please, I can’t—"

"Hush now," you interrupted, squeezing his cock. "You’re going to wait until I say so. If you want to be a good boy, you’ll follow my instructions."

Daryl’s cock was coated in his pre-cum and throbbing in your hand, and every time you squeezed just a little harder, he would shiver, his voice breaking into pleas and whimpers.

"Please… ‘M so close," he whimpered. "Can’t hold back much longer."

You looked down at him, smirking, and then you jerked him faster and harder, bringing him right to the edge. His body was tense and almost painfully trying to hold off his orgasm.

"Daryl," you said softly, your hand driving him mad. "I want you to beg for it. Just a little bit more."

His pleas turned into desperate murmurs as he struggled with himself. "Please… Need t’… Jus’ let me... Oh fuck!"

With a final pump, you brought him right to the very edge again, feeling his cock throbbing against your palm. Then, just when you could see he was about to break, you pulled back, stopping altogether.

Daryl let out a whimper, his eyes desperate. "Fuck, please… Need it."

You leaned in close, kissing his neck. "Not yet. I want you to really feel it, to know how much you need me."

"Please," he begged again. "Please..."

"Tell me how much you need it," you smiled at him.

He swallowed hard, his voice cracking as he spoke. "Need it so bad, mommy, please... Need t’ cum for ya. Need ya..."

You gave him one final, hard stroke, and then you stopped again, making him groan and tremble over you, the muscles in his arms tensing up painfully hard. "Good boy," you whispered, finally giving him permission to slide into your pussy, just not all the way.

"No further," you said. "Just the tip. Hold it back."

He groaned, his hands gripping the sheets next to you on the mattress. "Please," he begged, his voice breaking. "Lemme fuck ya..."

You ignored his pleas, your hand still pumping up and down his shaft. "Say it," you commanded. "Say you’re my good boy, Daryl."

"‘M yer good boy," he mumbled, closing his eyes in embarrassment.

Finally, when you could see the look on his face—the way he was practically begging to come—you leaned in. "You want it now?"

"Yeah," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Please, mommy..."

His cock was pulsing, the tip pressing into you just enough to make him groan but not enough to give him what he wanted.

You watched as a sudden tear rolled down his cheek—a single, small, and tiny drop. The sight of it—so rare for someone like Daryl—made you widen your eyes. You could see the complete surrender—the way he was completely at your mercy.

Without warning, you pushed against him, taking him all the way in, and made him cry out, his body shuddering as he filled you up and feeling your pussy stretch around his cock. The look of shock and ecstasy on his face was too much, even for you. His eyes widened, his lips parting slightly, and his cock was pulsing inside you, his body trembling uncontrollably.

"Fuck! Fuck…"

And the moment you took him in fully, he came hard inside of you with a loud groan, his body trying to push in as deep as possible as he reached his orgasm, while you held him close, feeling the last of his cum filling you up as he finished.

You soon lay there, your body still tingling, but Daryl, on the other hand, was a mess after he quickly pulled out of you. Now his walls were coming back up, and he was doing his best to act like he didn’t need a damn thing from you.

He was trying to play it cool, turning his face away, still shaking a little bit. "Jus’… gotta go," he mumbled, trying to shove you away. "Don’ need ya all up in m’ shit now."

"Oh, come on. You can’t be serious," you smirked, running a finger teasingly down his chest.

He glared at you, trying to push you away once more. "‘M fine. Jus’ leave me ‘lone," he grumbled.

"Look at you, all tough and cold again. But you were begging for it only a minute ago." You let your hand move over his skin, feeling his muscles twitch. "And now you’re just going to be an ass about it? Not a chance."

He froze as you touched him. "Shut up," he snapped. "Don’t need yer damn pity."

You rolled your eyes, leaning in close. "Pity? This isn’t pity, Daryl."

He tried to pull away again, but you held him close, your hands moving up to his chin. You tilted his head so he had no choice but to look at you.

"Seriously?" You said with a smile. "You’re going to act like a brat now? After everything?" You moved closer, teasing him with a kiss on his lips.

Daryl’s breath stopped for a second, and you felt him shudder under your touch. "Fuck off," he muttered, but it was sounding rather weak, almost as if he was trying to convince himself more than you.

You laughed, cupping his chin more firmly. "Make me. Or... maybe you really are just a brat who needs to be put in his place all over again."

He shivered as he fought with himself. "No… Don’ need this," he mumbled, but it was clear he was losing the battle against himself. His voice was getting quieter, and he knew that he was failing miserably.

Then, you finally met his lips with yours. It was a slow, gentle kiss, with you wanting to give him reassurance. He moaned against them, the sound full of desperation.

When you pulled back, you saw how his eyes were wide, and he suddenly nuzzled up against you, his face buried in your neck, his body trembling as if he was trying to hold onto whatever was left of his defenses.

"‘M so sorry," he murmured against your skin, his voice breaking. "Didn’ mean t’... I jus’—"

You ran your fingers through his hair, cuddling him closer as he clung to you. "Quiet," you whispered, putting your lips against his forehead. "It’s okay."

He wrapped his arms around you, his grip a little rough as if he was afraid you might slip away. "I fucked up," he said. "Almos’ got m’self killed an’ hurt ya. ‘M so damn sorry."

You held him close, his body pressed against yours. "I know," you said softly. "But you’re still alive, Daryl."

But the moment of calm was ruined when Daryl’s body tensed up again, with him starting to sob violently.

"Shit," he choked out, tears rolling down his cheeks. "‘M such a fuckin’ asshole. Messed everythin’ up. Could’ve died an’—"

You shushed him, holding him even tighter, pressing kisses to his temples. You didn’t say much, letting your actions speak louder than any words even could.

He kept mumbling apologies, his sobs so intense that they shook his whole body. "Ain’t good ‘nough. ‘M worthless. Jus’ a useless piece o’ shit," he sobbed further, his voice cracking.

You gently cupped his face again, lifting it so you could look into his wet eyes. Slowly, you wiped the tears away with your thumbs, kissing his cheeks where the tears had been rolling down.

"Hush," you whispered softly. "You’re not a useless piece of shit. You’re not worthless. You made a mistake, but you’re here, and you’re alive. That’s what matters."

He needed to hear that you weren’t disappointed and that you still loved him despite everything.

Daryl looked up at you, his eyes all red and swollen, but his sobbing began to calm down. And as he finally started to relax, his grip on you softened, but he didn’t let go. He was still clinging to you, needing you to remind him that he was loved and that he was enough.

"Thanks," he whispered quietly. "For… everythin’."

You smiled to yourself, playing with his hair. "Anytime," you murmured, pressing another soft kiss to the top of his head.

You didn’t need to say anything more; your arms around him were enough to help him find his way back to feeling okay. The walls he’d built were finally down, and for now, he was just Daryl—raw and in need of someone to help him piece himself back together.

TAG-LIST: @itwasntaphasema

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oddinary4bts · 1 month

Text

Chasing Cars | ch 15.5 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: curses, mentions of jk's unaliving attempt, explicit content: hickeys, fingering, they are so in love and can't stop saying it, unprotected sex, creampie

☆word count: 2.6k

☆a/n: i love them, and my bad if there are any typos this is heavily unedited haha let me know if you see any!

☆series masterpost

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Jungkook feels anxious. Ever since Taehyung asked him to meet up to talk, he’s been feeling incredibly anxious, like his heart might explode in his chest. Even worse - he’s afraid he’ll run into you when he gets to the apartment, and after what you said on Thursday, he thinks he might break with no way to heal if he sees you.

He’s scheduled an appointment with his therapist later today. All he can do is hope that it’ll help. And that his conversation with Taehyung will help, too.

Taehyung is in the living room when Jungkook gets home, playing on the Switch. He pauses his game the second Jungkook walks in, and they both stare at each other for a time, an uneasy silence filling the apartment.

Taehyung breaks it first. “Hey.”

Jungkook takes off his shoes but keeps his coat on as he heads towards the living room. “Hey.”

“How have you been?” Taehyung asks.

It’s awkward, and Jungkook hates it. He’s been hating way too much stuff in his life lately.

“Fine,” Jungkook replies.

He can’t bring himself to return the question, and he sits at the other extremity of the couch, as far away from Taehyung as he possibly can.

“Listen…” Taehyung says when he realizes Jungkook won’t say anything else. “I’m sorry I punched you.” He winces as his eyes go over the bruise and wound Jungkook knows adorn his cheek. “Shit, I actually got you good.”

“You did,” Jungkook coldly replies.

Taehyung eyes his knuckles, which have also turned red and purple from the blow. “I really am sorry for that. I don’t know why I punched you, and I’m a little disgusted with myself that I did.”

“You were mad. It makes sense.”

Taehyung shakes his head no. “It doesn’t make sense. But… man, why didn’t you tell me about her?”

“Because you told me you’d kill me if I did touch her?” Jungkook chuckles bitterly. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Yet you still went behind my back and fucked her,” Taehyung states, a hint of anger flashing behind the words.

“I didn’t fuck your sister,” Jungkook spits. “It’s never been like that with her.”

Taehyung remains silent for a few seconds and then sighs deeply. “Then how is it?”

His tone is cool, composed, and a lot nicer than Jungkook expected it to be. It calms down the anger that was starting to simmer in his blood better than a cold shower would have.

“Wha - what?” Jungkook lets out.

Taehyung offers him a smile that seems forced, yet Jungkook sees it for what it is - he’s trying to make an effort.

“How is it with Y/n?”

Jungkook gulps, gaze widening. “Huh… well…” he trails off, eyes falling to his hands, where he’s been mindlessly pulling at the calluses he gets from working out. “It’s… great. I know she’s your sister but fuck… she’s amazing.”

“She is,” Taehyung agrees.

“But I fucked everything up in Paris when I kissed Gabrielle.”

The silence that follows is heavy, interrupted by Taehyung’s sigh what feels like an eternity later.

“Were you guys together then?” Taehyung asks.

Jungkook shrugs. “We weren’t together together. But yes we were.” He pauses, and his throat is so dry it feels like sandpaper when he tries to swallow. “We started on Valentine’s Day.”

Taehyung’s nose is scrunched up, much like you sometimes do, when Jungkook looks at him. “That’s… a long time ago.”

“We ended in Paris, though,” Jungkook adds. “Except last Thursday.”

“I thought you and Lisa…” Taehyung trails off.

“It happened once last month,” Jungkook immediately explains, probably far more defensive than necessary. “And Y/n actually caught us together so… I ended things with Lisa right away.”

“I remember Lisa being pissed about it,” Taehyung admits. “But then she said that it was because of another girl, and looking back I was stupid to think it was Gaby.”

Jungkook purses his lips. “I haven’t spoken to Gaby in person since Paris. We only texted a couple of times.”

Including that one time she’d given him shit for not telling you about his promise to her.

“Right…” Taehyung trails off. He sighs, sitting back on the couch, throwing Jungkook a look. “What do you want with my sister?”

Jungkook gulps around a sudden lump in his throat. What does he want with you? He already knows, but can he tell Taehyung? Can he tell your brother that he’s so irreversibly in love with you he thinks he’s been dying since you said it was a lapse of judgment on Thursday?

That he almost died in July after he lost you?

“You want the truth?” Jungkook asks, his heart rate spiking. “I’m in love with her. I just want her to be happy, and of course I wish she’d want to be happy with me, but I don’t think that’ll happen after last Thursday.”

“You’re in love with her?” Taehyung repeats.

Jungkook gulps. “Yes.”

Taehyung nods and, to Jungkook’s surprise, taps Jungkook’s shoulder. “Noted. Come home, Jungkook. You should talk to her.”

Jungkook is stunned silent, and he just stares at Taehyung, just stares at his best friend unblinkingly, not understanding where the conversation went.

“What?”

“Come home,” Taehyung repeats. “I’m not mad at you. I was mostly mad that you both hid it from me for months, but clearly I was wrong.” He pauses, chuckles lightly. “At least that’s what Ari said. She quite literally beat some sense into me.”

So… this is it? The biggest obstacle to you and him… wasn’t even an obstacle?

“She did?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung tilts his head to the side, gaze widening as if he’s reminiscing about what happened with Ariane. “She said that I was a dick for not letting you guys figure your shit out. I think Gaby told her about the two of you.”

That would make sense, considering that the two girls are best friends.

“Oh,” is all Jungkook manages to say.

Taehyung surveys him for a few seconds, as Jungkook’s world crumbles down around him. It’s like the floor disappeared, and he’s plummeting towards the ground with no parachute to save him.

Taehyung is not opposed to your relationship.

If you want it, Jungkook can be with you.

“So come home,” Taehyung repeats. “Talk to Y/n. Fix shit with her.” Taehyung smiles, and this time it’s fully genuine. “I just want you both to be happy.”

Jungkook nods, and he has to take a deep breath to refrain from crying then and there. “Okay.” He nods again. “Okay, I will talk to her.”

There’s a moment of silence as Taehyung just carefully observes Jungkook. Jungkook wonders, can Taehyung hear the wild beats of his heart at the perspective of talking to you?

“Can I…” Taehyung starts, and then his eyes drop to his hands in his lap. “Can I ask you something?”

Jungkook’s heart seems to come to a full halt in his chest. “Yeah?”

“What happened last summer…” Taehyung trails off. “Is it related to Y/n?”

A bottle of wine crashing on the pavement comes to Jungkook’s mind. But he never told Taehyung - how would he know?

“What do you mean?” Jungkook replies, pulling on his piercings.

“In July.” Taehyung sighs, meeting Jungkook’s gaze for a few seconds. “Lisa told Sera, and she told me and Jimin.”

Jungkook hates it. He hates it so much, hating the vulnerability that it imposes him.

“Ah.” He gulps, and he thinks about you for a moment.

Thinks about the fact that you were the only thing on his mind when he was so close to ending it.

“It was partly caused by losing her, yes,” Jungkook finally answers, and he’s suddenly blinking back tears.

“Fuck, JK…” Taehyung trails off. “You really should have told me about her…”

“I didn’t think you’d be… open-minded,” Jungkook says, shrugging his shoulders. “And she’d already ended things with me then.”

Taehyung nods once, and then sighs again. “Please don’t keep everything to yourself now, okay? I really don’t want you to think you’re alone. And I really don’t want you to ever feel like… that is a solution. So please talk to me, talk to Jimin whenever you need help, okay?”

Jungkook can’t speak around the lump in his throat, so all he does is nod. Taehyung understands - they’re best friends after all.

“I love you, bro,” Taehyung adds. “Please talk to Y/n.”

“I will,” Jungkook answers, his voice choked up with emotion.

All he can hope for is for you to be open to the conversation, whenever it comes.

*****

For the first time in months, Jungkook feels at peace.

You’re here with him, and for the first time, he knows he won’t have to let go. Maybe that’s why he’s kissing you slowly, softly - you have all of eternity stretched ahead of you. Yet it seems you want more. Your kisses grow deeper, and soon his blood is pulsing at his ears, shooting down to his dick, and Jungkook pushes his tongue in your mouth.

It’s like he’s discovering you for the first time. He marvels at your sight, at your taste, at the way you moan softly against his lips. He swallows your sounds, inhales your inebriating scent, and he climbs on top of you, gently parting your legs with his knee so that he can be as close to you as possible.

He has half a thought that Taehyung is somewhere in the apartment, but the way you wrap your legs around his waist makes him forget everything until there’s just you and him.

He leaves your mouth to find your neck, his tongue darting out to taste you. A second later he’s sucking a hickey on your skin, and you moan softly, hand pulling at his hair.

“Kook,” you breathe out.

He pauses, just content with being close to you. “I love you, peach.”

Your arms wrap tightly around him, and though you have to be aware of his erection pressing against you, you both just stay there for a moment.

“Love you too, Kook. So, so much.”

It’s the way you say the words. Jungkook immediately feels the need to be inside you, to be surrounded by you, and he kneels between your legs so that he can take off his shirt. You run a hand on his body, awe in your eyes like you, too, can’t believe you made it in the end. He takes a moment to look at you, to take in the way your eyes sparkle with emotion - with love, lust and yearning.

He loves you. And the best part about it is, you love him too.

“Fuck, peach,” he whispers. “You’re so beautiful.”

You sit up, taking off your shirt in one swift motion that reveals so much skin - you weren’t wearing a bra - and Jungkook thinks he’ll go insane. It’s like he forgot what you looked like despite seeing you just a few days ago - it feels like a whole lifetime ago.

You’ve gained muscles over the months apart. You’re leaner, and there’s a strength to your curves that makes Jungkook’s dick twitch in his pants. The tattoo on your ribs is all too attractive too, and Jungkook takes a moment to trace it as you lie back down under his watchful gaze.

The art is beautiful. Delicate, with fine lines that have sunk perfectly in your skin. Jungkook wonders who your artist is, if they’d be able to tattoo something on him too, something to remind him of you. But then you’re whining from lack of attention, and Jungkook leans down, kissing you deeply.

You run your hands on the skin of his back, nails lightly digging in his skin, and when he grunts softly, you whisper, “I’m so happy to be here with you.”

He goes fully insane. Insanely in love, perhaps. He undresses you, kissing every inch of skin revealed, and though he wants to taste you, to eat you out until you come undone on his tongue, his dick is throbbing too painfully for him to ignore it.

You’re glistening, your arousal evident the second his eyes land on you. He still takes a moment to slip two fingers inside of you as he kisses you again, swallowing your soft moans as they come. And when he thinks you’re ready, stretched enough for his dick, Jungkook takes off the rest of his clothes. His dick springs free, already rock hard like it always is with you, and he jerks himself off a couple of times as he watches you, as you watch him through half-lidded eyes.

“Condom?” he asks, though he hopes you’ll say no.

He wants to feel all of you again.

You shake your head no. “Please just fuck me already.”

“Fuck,” he curses, his dick hardening even more. “Fuck, peach, I love you.”

He comes closer, rubbing his tip on you, collecting your juices. It’s so sensitive without a condom, and he has to bite the tip of his tongue so that he doesn’t come right away. It doesn’t help that you’re so wet. That a moment later he’s slipping in, inch after inch, your walls sucking him in.

It doesn’t help that you moan softly, eyes fluttering shut as your eyebrows bunch together from the pleasure. You’re so hot like this, so sinfully beautiful, and some feral part of him just wants to pound into you, to fuck you until the whole neighbourhood knows that you’re his forever now.

But he tames himself, slowly pulls out before pushing all the way in again.

“Kook,” you moan, and your hand finds one of his where it’s holding your waist. “Come close.”

You don’t have to ask twice, especially not as he wants you close, too. So he bends down, cages you between his forearms, and then he establishes a slow rhythm. Your hips lift to meet his, your walls tightening around him from the motion, and he knows he’ll come fast.

You’re too tight, too wet, for him to hold on for a long time. So he tells you how much he loves you. Whispers on your lips that he never wants to be separated from you again, that he thinks you’re the reason he’s alive. You confess your love back, tell him that he’s so worthy of your love, that you wouldn’t want anyone other than him.

You tell him that you’ll love him when you’re old, which makes him laugh against your lips. There’s beauty in the thought, in the knowledge that he does have a lifetime with you.

“You’re…” he trails off, because he has no words to describe how amazing you are, and his dick is stealing most of the blood from his brain.

So he kisses you instead. Kisses you slow, kisses you deep, his motions growing faster until they turn sloppy, and then he pushes all the way in, his dick twitching as he unloads his cum deep inside of you. You hold him tight, pussy pulsating around him, and Jungkook’s high keeps going on and on, your lips muffling his groans and soft moans.

“I love you,” he says again when he starts being able to think once more.

He’ll never get tired of telling you.

“I love you too, Kook,” you whisper.

He’ll never get tired of hearing that, too.

Read chapter fifteen here!

☆☆☆☆☆

he is so in love with her please send help. Let me know what you think of the drabble!

#chasing cars ch 15.5 #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk #jeon jungkook #btswritersclub #chasing cars #chasing cars series

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transmascissues · 7 months

Note

it's silly but the biggest reason why im not into t yet is bc im so afraid of losing my hair. do you have any solutions/tips for it?

first of all, i don’t think it’s silly — it’s natural to be worried when hair loss is talked about by so many people as like…one of the worst results of aging for men. listening to my dad talk about how much he hates balding definitely did not make me feel particularly good about the knowledge that i may very well be joining him someday. i’m not saying the fear is right, because i don’t think hair loss is something awful that we should avoid at all costs, but it’s an understandable fear given the beauty standards we’re working with, and it’s one that a lot of us (myself included) feel.

one thing that’s helped me is just…paying more attention to the guys that i interact with on a daily basis. i’ve learned two things from it: 1) hair loss is super fucking common. i’d say it’s much harder to find an adult man who isn’t balding at all than it is to find one who’s completely bald. and 2) if you forget everything you’ve been told about how bad hair loss is, you’ll realize that quite frankly, every single one of those guys looks totally fucking fine. it doesn’t ruin their appearance and make them ugly, it looks totally natural and isn’t really even something you’d notice if you weren’t looking for it. we put so much weight on it but it’s really just not that big of a deal. i’ll hear my parents talk shit about men in my family who are losing their hair when i didn’t even notice a difference last time i saw them. it’s one of those things (like so many other appearance-related things) that you really only notice at all because you’ve been taught that you’re supposed to care about it.

this isn’t something i’ve done personally, but if you really want to desensitize yourself to the idea of it, embrace the time-honored queer tradition of just shaving your whole damn head! find out what you’d look like without hair, find out how you feel about it and what you can do that makes you feel good about your appearance without hair, test the waters while it’s still a temporary change and not something permanent. that way, it won’t feel like this big scary unknown, and you’ll actually have a frame of reference for your feelings about how you look without hair rather than accepting the societal assumption that you’ll inevitably hate it. if you don’t want to actually shave your head, you could also just fuck around with bald filters or photoshop and see what happens.

oh, and if you’re attracted to men, keep an eye out for guys who are bald or balding and also hot as fuck. in my experience, there’s no insecurity or potential future insecurity that being gay for other men hasn’t helped me with. just off the top of my head, i can think of a couple actors who i think are absolutely fucking gorgeous who have helped me get over my fears about losing my hair. despite what our anti-aging-obsessed world might want you to think, there is no such thing as a physical feature that automatically makes someone less attractive, and while making attractiveness less of a priority in your life is good, it can’t hurt to also give yourself some proof that actually, you might lose your hair and look hot as hell doing it.

basically, entertain the possibility that it won’t be a bad thing at all! whether that’s just because it turns out to be a neutral thing for you or because you end up actually liking it, it’s not an inherently bad thing. i’ve ended up liking a lot of things that were “supposed to” be bad effects of t — i love the weight i’ve gained and the new shape it gives my body, i get a lot of gender euphoria from the fact that my acne is now on parts of my face that i saw a lot of guys in high school get it and i’m not complaining about the scars i get from it either because i’ve always liked the added texture that acne scars give my skin, and so on. i think there’s a lot of joy to be had in the changes we’re taught to fear, once we look past that conditioning and actually explore how we feel about it.

but if it’s something you really don’t want and you just want to improve your chances of not having to deal with it, it’s not like there’s nothing you can do! products like finasteride (oral) and minoxidil (usually topical but i think there might also be oral versions) are pretty commonly used among trans guys, for the purpose of avoiding hair loss and for other reasons, and there are plenty of other anti-hair loss products out there (though i don’t know how effective any one of them might be). if it’s a big enough deal for you, you can just decide that you’ll go off of t if/when you start noticing signs of it, since no longer having higher t levels would stop the process in its tracks. and if you don’t find prevention options that work for you so it ends up happening, you can always explore different hair styles (judging by the pattern of hair loss i see in my family, i suspect that keeping my hair long would make it less obvious if i started losing mine), find your preferred method of covering it when you don’t feel good about it (personally i love a good beanie generally and would probably wear them a lot more if i didn’t have hair to worry about because my main complaint is the way they press my hair onto my neck), or just shave it all off if you don’t like the look of the partial balding but don’t mind a shaved head. the point being — you have options!

at the end of the day, whether you go on t or not, you’re going to see your body change as you age in ways that aren’t always going to be attractive to others or aesthetically pleasing to you. that’s just the reality of having a body. even if you never went on t, you’d get older and you might see your hair thin out even if you don’t bald, you’ll see your skin start to wrinkle and sag in places that used to be smooth, your metabolism might slow or your body fat might start to gather in new places; hell, you might lose your hair for a totally different reason and end up in the same place but without the benefits of having been on t that whole time. life is full of bodily changes like that. transphobes will fearmonger about the permanent changes of testosterone all day long but the truth is, there is no escaping permanent bodily changes. whether or not you go on t, your body now isn’t the same as it will be in 1 or 5 or 10 or 20 or 50 years, just like it isn’t the same as it was at any point in your life before now. our bodies are never supposed to stop growing and aging and changing throughout our lives. there’s no guaranteeing that we’ll love every single change our bodies go through, but that’s okay! there are so many things in life that are more important than the way our bodies look. even if you go on t and lose your hair and don’t like how it looks, your life won’t be ruined; plenty of other things will bring you joy and more than make up for the insecurities.

just think about the gender euphoria and relief from dysphoria that t could give you. would losing your hair be bad enough to outweigh all of that? or is it just the pressure of a society that decided balding is bad that’s making you fear one single change despite how much joy you could have if you let that fear go? only you can decide if going on t is worth the potential downsides for you, but i suspect that for most of us, the benefits of going on t far outweigh the possibility of side effects like hair loss happening down the line.

#when i say i love helping people beat their fears about t this is what i mean. i will simply write a whole essay about it #some people might think it’s silly to answer a question like this so extensively #but i don’t think it is! i feel like this is a really common fear but also one i don’t see talked about much #maybe because it’s so common among cis guys that people don’t see it as a question to ask in trans spaces? idk #but i think we should talk about it more. especially when transphobes use it as a way to talk shit about t #ask answered #testosterone #hrt #ftm hrt #hair loss #trans men #transmascs

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multi-fandom-imagine · 8 months

Text

─ ★ Broĸeɴ Hαllelυjαн || 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 ||

↳𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑↳

A/n: I'm so bad at angst....i hate this.

When Adam asked you to take a peak in hell you never thought you would end up falling for the King of Hell. The time you spent in hell, you didn't want to leave, you grew close to everyone, close to Charlie.

The nights you and Lucifer shared, that was something you would never forget.

But of course, nothing can ever stay good for long. It has to end sometime right? It was a shock to see Lilith, the woman was beautiful of course. You didn't blame the look Lucifer was giving her.

It hurt of course, the painful feeling of tightness in your chest. You hated how happy they looked together, they looked like a perfect family. You knew it was wrong to be jealous, you have no right to be jealous because he was with her first. But that didn't stop the pain you were feeling in your heart.

Sinking your teeth into your lip, you dropped your shoulders. Any rational thought of speaking with him left your mind, not when he was smiling like that, laughing like that. Taking a deep breath you bowed your head turning away from the family.

You couldn't get in between them, Lucifer deserved a second chance with his wife and if he was happy then you can be happy too. Feeling a few tears slip down your cheeks you let your wings unfurl.

Taking a deep breath a bitter smile formed on your lips as you turned your back to the family missing the concerned gaze of Charlie.

"Goodbye Lucifer."

It was nice seeing Lilith, she looked good, still beautiful but something was different. He realized that he no longer loved her like he used to because of you. You were the one to pull him from his slump, the depression he felt.

He owed that all to you, he loved you.Lucifer realized that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you and he couldn't help but talk to Lilith about you.

"I am sorry Lilith...I" Lucifer adverted his gaze for a moment.

Lilith let out an airy laugh as she placed her finger tips under his chin so he would meet her gaze."Never apologize for falling in love Lucifer."

Flushing for a moment, Lucifer rubbed the back of his neck. "I can't wait for you to meet them...I actually wanted to get your advice.." he started to stutter, another nervous laugh escaping his lips. "I was going to ask them to-."

Opening her lips, Lilith was about to answer until Charlie took a step forward a frown on her lips.

"Dad....they're gone."

Lucifer's smile vanished from his lips, his arms falling to his side. "Gone...what do you mean?"

Lucifer never expected it to hurt this much, it felt worse than when he and Lilith separated. Leaning his cheek on his palm he let out a small sniffle looking at the small duck he made for you, a little ring wrapped around its neck. "What did I do wrong?" He whispered to himself.

Maybe he was this issue, he had to be....what other reason would you leave him for?

Quickly rubbing a few tears from his eyes, Lucifer let his head rest on the desk, eyes still glued to the duck he made of you. "I miss you."

You never thought that heaven could be so boring, you missed everyone. You missed how easy it was to get along with everyone. Sighing, you dropped your shoulders though hearing your name being called your head quickly turned to the voice.

"Lilith....what the hell are you doing here."

You looked over at the woman, in her hands was a small rubber duck that looked so much like you and around that ducks neck was a small golden ring.

"We need to talk."

Trailing behind the woman, you did your best to keep up with her long stride's. "He still love's me."

Glancing over her shoulders, Lilith's gaze softened for a moment as she stopped in her tracks. Her fingers tucking under your chin. "He wouldn't stop talking about you. It's a shame we never met in Heaven, I would haven taken you for myself." She hummed giving you were a teasing smile. You were too cute, she could see why Lucifer had fallen for you.

You two seemed like you were meant to be.

"I'm sorry...."

"Please don't apologize love...I am happy knowing that Lucifer and Charlie are in such good hands...no come along.... we shouldn't keep him waiting."

Nodding your head you gave Lilith a smile as you two made your way to Lucifer. You will make this right, you will let Lucifer know that you truly loved him.

To you, it felt like ages to arrive at Lucifer's castle. You didn't even get a chance to let the woman speak as you were rushing off into home calling out his name. Though a few months have passed you still remember this place like the back of your hand.

"Lucifer...please."

Your heart stuttering when your gaze landed on the man. The bags under his eyes, puffy, clothes a mess. You hated seeing it, hated knowing that you were the cause of this issue. "Lucifer?"

The man's head snapped up, eyes going wide for a moment. Fresh tears pooling in his eyes as he took a tentative step towards you. "Are you...are you really here? This isn't."

Biting his lip, Lucifer's lips quivered as he quickly rushed to you. His arms tightly wrapping around you, clinging to you. "I'm sorry....I'm so sorry."

Shaking your head, you let your thumb brush away a stray tear off his cheek. "Never apologize Lucifer, it's my fault...I should....I just thought you'd be happier if I left."

Resting his head against yours, he grasped your hand spotting the ring on his finger. His heart swelling with happiness as he held you.

"I am happy with you....I love you."

Sighing, you then pressed your face into his neck letting him hold you. "I love you too."

You won't make this mistake again, you will always stay by Lucifer's side.

#drabbles #drabble #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer x y/n #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer morningstar x y/n #lucifer magne x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer

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molsno · 7 months

Text

do you know how it feels to be thrown away? to be made aware that dozens, hundreds of people hate you and want you dead?

that's the daily reality of trans women, and it's inescapable.

everyone keeps asking us why we're so angry, why we overreact to everything. how would you feel if day after day after day, everyone around you reacted to everything you say with utter malice, told you you were dangerous, demanded everyone stay away from you, twisted your words to make you look like the worst person who's ever lived? would you be content with that? you really wouldn't get angry? that wouldn't put you on edge? I find that hard to believe.

it's actually normal to make mistakes, or so I've heard. people say that if you say something insensitive, or you talk too much, or your voice is too loud, or you accidentally hurt someone, it's not the end of the world. people might roll their eyes, or there might be an uncomfortable silence, or the person you hurt might not talk to you for a while, but they'll move on, or forget about it, or ask you to apologize. you can be forgiven.

is that really true? I've always been made aware that if I slip up even once, make one tiny mistake, I'll be treated like I'm the scum of the earth. I'll be viciously ostracized at the drop of a hat without warning for one little faux-pas. for some reason, if I'm not perfect, people tell me to kill myself. sometimes I wonder if they have a point.

what is it like to be taken in good faith, I wonder? I wouldn't know. I always want to assume other people have good intentions, so I often take people in good faith, even when they disagree with me, or they have a problem with what I said. even if they're being hostile to me, even if they're ineloquent, even if they willfully misunderstand what I'm saying, I try to see things from their perspective and forge a human connection with them. after all, how are we supposed to build a better world together if we can't look past each other's shortcomings and try to come to a mutual conclusion, person-to-person? whenever I try to do this with someone, I almost always become painfully aware that they don't see me as a person.

does it surprise you that most of us are walking bundles of nerves, fueled by trauma inflicted by people who regularly try to kill us? are we supposed to be calm and rational when someone hates us and decides to make it our problem?

would you be?

#my writing #transmisogyny #I'm tentatively keeping reblogs on for this one. please do not make me regret that

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burrito-fight · 9 months

Text

logical - luke castellan

notes: based off of logical by olivia rodrigo :), gif not mine <3 there are time skips after every lyric chunk, it'll make sense when you read it. first fic, please like and reblog :))

warnings: toxic!luke , angsty

word count: 1k, including lyrics

my masterlist!

Master manipulator God, you're so good at what you do

“You believe me, don’t you?” Luke asked, his voice sweet like nectar.

You heard the stories about what Luke had done to Percy. Chiron had sat you down and talked to you, Percy came in and told you, Annabeth cried about it, and even your siblings and random campers checked in on you to make sure you were okay. Or perhaps they wanted to see if you were on Luke’s side.

You weren’t sure.

But no matter how many times you heard what Luke had done, you wanted to hear from him yourself. You knew he did it, you just didn’t know why. You were still holding on to the idea that there was good in him.

Which was why you were even out here in the city, making arrangements immediately after getting that letter, to talk to Luke.

He was good at that. At making you forget everything and come running to him.

He was also good at convincing you he did what had to be done.

“Y/N?” he asked, concern in his voice.

You knew he didn’t actually care. But he was good at manipulating you into thinking he did. Maybe he wasn’t good at that and you just wanted to believe he cared.

“Yeah, I believe you.”

Come for me like a savior And I'd put myself through hell for you

Your feet pounded against the ground, the blood in your veins growing hotter as you ran.

You weren’t like most demigods. You didn’t like fighting monsters. It didn’t come naturally to you.

But the monsters still found you.

At the sound of the monster’s growling growing closer, you took a sharp turn and entered an alley. Almost immediately, you regretted that decision. The alley was wide, but it was a dead end.

Which meant the only way out was to fight.

You faced the entrance to the alley, no doubt the monster was going to enter soon, and took out your sword. You’d die fighting if you had to.

But you didn’t even have to fight.

At the sound of a pained hiss, you made your way out of the alley, only to see Luke standing above a monster horn, sword out and breathing heavily.

He ignored his spoil of war, turning around to find you staring at him like he was a knight in shining armor.

“Did it get you?” he asked, coming closer and inspecting your face for any scratches or bruises.

You shook your head, affirming that you were okay.

Maybe you didn’t die fighting, but you’d die going through hell for that boy.

Hear all the rumors lately That you always denied

“He’s growing a monster army,” Percy shook his head in disgust. “He said he wants to create a new age, and bring Kronos back. He’s not bringing balance, he’s destroying the world.”

You nodded along with Percy, feigning disgust and giving the right response when needed. The campers didn’t fully trust you, but Percy often kept you updated on Luke through his dreams and quests. It was as if he knew you were caught in the middle of it and wanted to keep you away from Luke’s side.

It was a good idea, but Luke was always two steps ahead. He was in contact with you immediately, trying to deny rumors and battle plans that Percy accused him of.

No matter how much he denied them, you knew what the truth was.

And still, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him.

And I fell for you like water Falls from the February sky But now the current's stronger No, I couldn't get out if I tried But you convinced me, baby It was all in my mind

Whenever you thought about loving Luke, you realized it didn't happen all at once.

It was a little, every time he offered you a chocolate bar from when he got the satyrs to get something from outside of camp. Every time he slowed down to make sure you got the techniques down. Every time he checked in on you, just because he wanted to be sure you were okay.

Before you realized it, you were sinking.

You were sinking under the weight of how much you loved Luke while wondering if he even truly loved you back. Or was it all a ploy to have someone on the inside of Camp?

“It’s too much, Luke,” you told him one day. “Having to sit here and watch while you try to destroy Camp, the one place that’s home. It’s just too much.”

“Don’t you want a better life for us?” he asked, his voice soft and sweet. He was never loud, not with you. “Don’t you want a life where our kids can be happy and not have to worry about glory and the gods? I’m not destroying Camp, I’m destroying the Gods. I’m making a better world, baby. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”

But was that a better world?

And now you got me thinking Two plus two equals five And I'm the love of your life 'Cause if rain don't pour and sun don't shine Then changing you is possible No, love is never logical

The love you had for Luke would one day be the death of you, you knew that. You’d go to the ends of the worlds for him, while he’d only do it if Kronos allowed him.

He called you the love of his life, he promised that he’d do anything for you, but it was all a lie.

Because he couldn’t change, he couldn’t love, he couldn’t do anything if it didn’t align with his idea of a better world. With Kronos' idea of a better world.

“You knew that,” Percy whispered. “You knew all of that, and you stayed with him. Why?”

You looked ahead, at the gold coffin wherein Luke laid. It was almost done, it was almost time for him to rise. The second Kronos rose, you knew he was going to get rid of you. You weren’t reliable, not to him.

But you were okay with it. In fact, you wanted Kronos to use Luke's body and do it as soon as possible. It was possibly the only thing that could save him.

You looked back at Percy, sighing to yourself. “What can I say? Love is never logical.”

---

tags: @bela-nov

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#nyla writes #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #charlie bushnell #luke castellan #pjo tv show #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan blurb #pjo fic #pjo x reader #pjo x you #charlie bushnell x reader #charlie bushnell imagine #charlie bushnell fic

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devildomwriter · 5 months

Text

Obey Me as Disenchantment Quotes #1

Lucifer & Satan: *Laughing maniacally*

Simeon: “While I question their evil motives, it is nice to see them happy.”

Barbatos: “Now announcing the triumphant return of our heroes from their quest that we all privately thought would fail.”

Mammon & Leviathan: “…”

Lucifer: “How do we even know it worked.”

Solomon: “Oh but it must have worked. Now to test it, we need a volunteer to kill you.”

Belphegor: “Dibs.”

Barbatos: “How can you keep messing up a recipe with two ingredients?”

Solomon: “If you ever run into trouble give them this note.”

MC: “Kill me?”

Solomon: “Thirteen gave it to me, now I give it to you.”

Leviathan: “I’ve been meaning to…but the thing is, I…so you see…well, I’m glad we had this talk. How bout you talk now?”

MC: “But you haven’t said anything yet.”

Belphegor: “Well I was waiting to tell you until after I was dead so I wouldn’t have to tell you.”

Mammon: “Now just keep holding on, okay. Just keep holding on.”

MC: “It’s okay, it’s okay Mammon, I always wanted to go out while I’m still young and hot.”

Leviathan: “I didn’t want to tell you because I’m terrified of female emotions.”

Satan: “No, no, no, I was mostly raised by Lucifer. And a bunch of friendly drunks down at the pub. They taught me the fine art of stabbing.”

Barbatos: “It’s just too painful seeing the truth all the time.”

Solomon: “Ah, that’s why humans tend to avoid it.”

Belphegor: “The profession left without me.”

Diavolo: “Oh, that’s too bad.”

Belphegor: “I blame myself, cause I didn’t even notice.”

Solomon & Barbatos: *fighting*

Asmodeus: “Guys, guys come on. I’m much more embarrassed than I am aroused.”

Asmodeus: “MC, you poor baby. What a horrific day you’ve had. Let’s have too much wine and forget about it all.”

Beelzebub: “How’d you become a weird talking cat.”

Satan: “You keep shoving waffles in your mouth while I think of an answer.”

Thirteen: “I’ll use my skills as a hunter and Raphael will use his diplomacy to stab them with a broom handle.”

Solomon: “I used to spend many nights up here. Watching the sky, the moon, the neighbors.”

Lucifer: “This is your home. You’re free to explore.”

MC: “Wow, what’s behind that door?”

Lucifer: “None of your business nosy.”

Mammon: “Maybe you were overcome by chimney fumes. It happens quite frequently in a place like this with no chimnies.”

Satan: “What family curse? You mean insanity?”

Leviathan: “No, don’t be crazy. But yes I mean insanity.”

Asmodeus: “You guys are heavy. Do I really need both of you?”

Solomon & Satan: “Yes!”

Asmodeus: “Damn, I hate democracy.”

Mammon: “I knew you could count on me!”

Simeon: “What’s this called again?”

Mammon: “A a massage. It’s like a light well intentioned beating.”

Diavolo: “You’re clearly upset.”

Lucifer: “I’m not upset!”

Diavolo: “You said that like you were upset!”

MC: “Come on Belphegor be reasonable!”

Belphegor: “Never!”

Satan: “We’re gonna have to wing this in a dangerously half assed manner.”

Mammon: “That’s the Morningstar way.”

Asmodeus: “There’s plenty of fish in the sea, Sol.”

Solomon: “Like hell am I marrying another fish woman.”

Lucifer: “Disappointment’s a form of caring.”

Diavolo: “Tell me, where are you from.”

Solomon: “A country setting, it’s kind of like a farm but more stabbing.”

Simeon: “This whole thing feels like a weird dream.”

Mammon: “Or scurvy. When does scurvy kick in?”

Lucifer: “Believe it or not I know what it feels like to be burned alive by a mob of idiots.”

Beelzebub: “Oh, sweet butter, you’re the only thing right with the world.”

Solomon: “Morning, Belphegor! Care to try my new cure all? It wards off the deadly plague.”

Belphegor: “I’m actually hoping for death. Thanks though.”

Mammon: “For the first time in my life I feel completely calm and—“

Mammon: *Gets attacked by hawk*

Satan: “I’ve loved you since the moment you killed my brother.”

Mammon: “You don’t scare me! I was born scared.”

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pucksandpower · 2 years

Note

Can I request a Charles insta au where his gf receives hate from the fandom and Charles defending her <<3

Charles Leclerc x widow!Reader - Social Media AU

charles_leclerc

Liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 1,063,894 others

charles_leclerc date night on the road ❤️

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yourusername so thankful i get to experience all of this with you

charles_leclerc i wouldn’t have it any other way

pierregasly wow just go ahead and crop us out i guess

carlossainz55 they were so caught up in each other i think they forgot that we joined them for dinner

gridgossip why is she private???

circlingthecircuit must have something to hide

leleleclerc or … she doesn’t want to sacrifice her privacy just because she’s dating an f1 driver

paddockgirlie awww they look so happy together

charles_leclerc

Liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, and 1,108,936 others

charles_leclerc my pianist in-training

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yourusername emphasis on in-training 🫣

charles_leclerc you weren’t that bad

yourusername don’t lie to me

charles_leclerc seriously, it was good for your first time learning to play

tifositalking in the words of avril lavigne: hey, hey, you, you, i don't like your girlfriend. no way, no way, i think you need a new one

ferrari4ever charles could do so much better than her!

leclercitup am i the only one who thinks they’re adorable?

feralforferrari me too! they genuinely look completely in love with each other

leclercalicious you deserve to be more than just a rebound for a gold digger

pierregasly

Liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 839,215 others

pierregasly no wonder charles actually let me drive without a fight today

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yourusername couldn’t help it. i had a comfy pillow

charles_leclerc and i had a personal space heater

luckyleclerc tell charles that she’s just using him

gridgossip seriously! how does charles not realize that she’s going to lead him on and then discard him just like she did her first husband?

totallytifosi you need to leave them alone. you know nothing about her or their relationship. stop blindly hating

charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc an important note

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*comments on this post have been limited*

pierregasly no one should have to deal with this and especially not someone with a soul as kind as y/n’s

sebastianvettel so sorry to hear what y/n has been through. it can get very tough sometimes. we’re always here if you need to talk

carlossainz55 anyone who doesn’t like y/n is a horrible judge of character

yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, f1wagupdates, and 589,653 others

yourusername It has now been four years without you, my love. Your hoodies no longer smell like you no matter how long I refused to wash them. Your fingerprints on the mirror have been covered by dust. Sometimes I find myself forgetting what your voice sounded like and breaking down in the middle of work. Grief is a horrible thing. But you are permanently imprinted in my heart and my memories of you live on. I fight every day to keep them alive.

I met someone — his name is Charles. In many ways, he reminds me of you. You are both loyal and loving and so incredibly passionate. For the first time in years, I felt my heart come alive again. Charles understands how cruelly love can be snatched away from you. He understands the battle of trying to keep living while melancholy weighs you down. Alongside him, I learned that my heart has room enough for two incredible men and that I can love you both equally and in your own ways.

I know that this is what you would have wanted for me. I know that you’re smiling down on me right now. And it took me a long time to come to terms with it, but I know that it is okay for me to find love and happiness again. I have found it all with Charles. Time will keep passing us by but I promise that my love for you will never grow fainter.

To Ben, I will always love you. To Charles, I will love you just as faithfully until my own dying breath. To those who have supported me, you gave me a reason to keep living. To those who have misjudged and hated on me, I hope that going public with this will set the story straight and at the very least lead to me being treated with basic human decency. Thank you

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charles_leclerc so proud of you, mon amour. thank you for loving me and letting me love you

pierregasly one of the strongest people i know

arthur_leclerc charles has never been happier and anyone with eyes can see that

leclerc_pascale ❤️❤️❤️

carlossainz55 so much love to you both

landonorris i’m so sorry it came to this but we’re all behind you

georgerussell63 we always have your back

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risuola · 1 year

Text

BIRTHDAY GIFT — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

Sometimes you forget about your own birthday, but no worries, Satoru's got you. He always remember, and he even prepared a very special gift for you.

cw: fluff, no warnings — 2,8k words

a/n: i turned 28 this week, so here i am indulging myself with a fictional party, because i hate real parties. also i'm not sure if the picture in the middle is an official art or the fan art, i claim no rights to it 🩶

“Thanks Kento,” you addressed the blonde, when you got out of the bathroom in his house. “You’re saving my life.”

“No need to thank me,” he responded with the ghost of a smile on his face, and you checked yourself in the mirror. You looked tired, but other than that, thankfully normal, which wasn’t the case just half an hour ago, when you finished your job in the field.

It was a simple mission – get to the place, exorcise a bunch of curses, nothing out of ordinary and nothing especially difficult to do. Quite the opposite, it went smoothly – it took you three hours to hunt down every single one of the little curses, but their grades were low. One thing you were not told before taking the assignment though, was that those curses had a tendency to ugly explode with purple and green goo as they were exorcised. That’s why, when the job was done, you were covered from head to toe in those slimy curse gut-residuals. It was on your clothes, hands, in your hair and you could have sworn it was in your mouth too. You could feel it, smell it, taste it and damn was it disgusting. Hence why you called Nanami on your way back and thankfully found him at home. His apartment was so near, compared to the way you had to reach Jujutsu high and being the sweetheart that he is, he agreed for you to take a shower at his place and even gave you one of his dress shirts to wear, because your clothes were good for nothing but a trash bag. It was way too big, but with a belt it made for a pretty cute dress actually.

Once you were ready to leave, he got up as well.

“I have a thing to check in school so Ijichi will drive us both,” he explained and you gave it a nod and after that, you two went down to get a ride.

“How are you?”, you asked your friend, while you two were comfortably seated in the back of a car. It’s been a while since you last saw Nanami. “I didn’t even ask.”

“I’m good, thanks y/n,” he once again, gave you the slightest one of his smiles and exhaled deeply. “You’re tired, huh?”

“Ah, it’s nothing. Guess I didn’t sleep well today, it’s all good.” You shrugged it off, looking at the driver. “And you, Ijichi? Satoru’s not bothering you too much?”

“I-I’m fine and no, he’s n-not,” the man stuttered, sweat beads forming on his forehead as he spoke and you chuckled. That poor man was constantly being terrorized by the strongest sorcerer for god knows why.

“So, he is bothering you,” you chuckled and Ijichi laughed nervously, wiping his forehead with a tissue. “You don’t have to be so scared of him, he just likes to assert his dominance but he wouldn’t hurt you. Is he bothering you as well, Nanami?”

“Gojo is always bothering me,” the blonde sighed. “It always amazes me how fondly you speak of him. You really seem to like Satoru.”

“Oh, he’s really not that bad,” a smile spread over your face as you thought about Satoru. “He’s quite charming, actually.”

Truth is, you and Satoru are closer than any of you might wanna admit. You’re co-workers, that’s for sure. Friends, also, you know each other since high school and you kept in touch ever since. You probably know the man more than he knows himself. You’ve also been on few dates. Unofficial dates, of course, more like you just went to the same place, at the same time, just the two of you, and sat at the same table or bench, and talked for hours as you were brushing circles onto the skin of his hands or he was just keeping yours in his palms. Those kinds of dates. Nothing serious.

“As charming as a clown can be, I guess,” Nanami shrugged softly and you giggled. “But you two should get together, it’s only you who he seems to not enjoy annoying.”

“Commitment in our profession doesn’t seem like a great idea.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

The rest of the drive went in calm, you talked with the two in the car about sweet little nothings, sharing meaningless details about your days and maybe Ijichi seemed a little more stressed than usual, but you didn’t notice anything too weird to think about it. That’s why when you pulled off to the school and got to the main building, your heart almost jumped out of your chest at the sudden and incredibly loud ‘surprise!’ being thrown at your face.

“Huh?”, it stunned you to the point of disorientation. Why were all of your students and most of the older sorcerers that you know here? Why all the balloons, confetti and the cake?

“It’s your birthday, dummy,” you quickly were swept by the long arm of no one else but Satoru Gojo, who greeted you with a grin wide and bright and a light squeeze on your shoulder. The gesture was friendly, but you couldn’t deny the warmth that exploded in your chest the moment he touched you.

“My birthday?” Oh yes, your birthday. “God, I forgot about it.”

“I figured, buuuut we didn’t so I hope you have a little bit more power in your batteries to celebrate?”, Satoru led you more into the crowded space and with real surprise you noticed that even Yuuta was here, and students from Kyoto along with Utahime. No Gakuganji though, thanks to the heavens.

It was all surreal but at the same time so grounding to be surrounded by so many people that you find close to your heart. And for the next hours, you forgot about how tired your body was, how disgusting you were earlier that day and how perfectly Nanami acted like he has a real job in the school rather than the party to attend.

You stayed there until very late, enjoying every second of talks and laughs with your friends and students. You caught up with all of them, learned about the progress the teenagers were making, got to know more about how work was for the older sorcerers and even, when outside for a quick fresh air breath, one of the little, flying curses gave you a card with few wishes written in it, with no sign whatsoever, but it was the handwriting that gave it away. Suguru Geto. Even though he went a very different path than the rest of you, even though you all lost contact with him the moment he left around the second year, he had never, not even once, forgotten about your birthday, always delivering a card or something else one way or another. It warmed your heart and sometimes you wished to see him just for a moment to give him one last bear hug. You couldn’t, but the card will go to the box of things you cherish, along with the round, dark shades that no one could see through – the ones that Gojo was wearing while in high school; with Shoko’s first scalpel that she used to practice – the very cheap one that got blunt after just few uses; with one button from Haibara’s uniform – the only one that was left hanging by a thread, when he got back to school one last time and along with many other things you’ll hold onto until the day you die.

“Tired?”, Satoru asked you, when the clock hands moved past 1am. Most of the students were already gone and teachers also began to crumble down, calling it a night.

“Exhausted,” you chuckled softly and squeezed the hand he offered you, helping you get up from the couch.

“Let’s get you to bed, how’s that sound?”

“Perfect.”

With all of the goodbyes done, you gathered your gifts and left with Satoru, heading towards your little apartment. All the way he was keeping your hand in his, grinning like he usually does, but something felt off in the way his fingers were wrapped around you. A little tighter than always, little more possessive – a little more like he was afraid to let go of you even though that would be an irrational fear, because you never wanted anything more than to be held by him.

“Soo,” he began, when you both stepped into your place and you put down all of the bags, “I hope you don’t think I forgot about your gift. Though it’s technically not your birthday anymore.”

“Oh, Satoru, you know I don’t care about the gifts, right?” you smiled at him. “All of this, the party, the people, is more than I could wish for. Every second spent with all of you is worth more than any gift I could receive.”

“Yea, yea,” he waved a hand at you, making you laugh. He made you feel all kinds of weird things, one of which being the urge to slap and kiss him at the same time. “I actually have two gifts for you.”

“Of course you have,” a shake of your head was all you could offer him. Of course, Satoru Gojo had to be extra like that. “So?”

“Sooo, that’s the first one.” You didn’t even question the way he pulled the light-blue bag with a matching ribbon on top of it from behind his back, like he had it all of the time, which you know he didn’t. You took it anyway and before you even peeked inside, you reached up to him and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, whispering little ‘thank you’. “You’re welcome, now, you can check it later,” almost immediately after the bag landed in your hands, it was snatched away and put down where the other gifts were. “The second gift-“

You looked at him with confusion, realizing that Satoru was… nervous? He was bouncing slightly on his feet, as if he was hyping himself up. He took his glasses off and brushed a hand through his hair.

“Yea?”, you encouraged him to continue, taking him by the hands in hopes to calm him down a little. “What is it? Satoru, don’t tell me you bought me a snow tiger or something?”

“Huh? No, I didn’t. What, you want a snow tiger? You said they are cute, but-“

“No, absolutely not. No snow tigers, please.”

“Ok, wow, I’m more nervous than I was… ever, probably, that’s new,” he laughed at his own composure, or rather the lack of thereof, and now you really began to worry. What the hell did this man did?

“Just say it, I can take it.”

Pulling him by the hands, you took him onto the sofa, now slightly worrying he might really pass out. Doors to your apartment stayed open wide, but that was the least of your worries, when you two sat down and all your eyes could fix on was a man next to you. He looked stunning in his dark grey sweater that exposed a little bit of his collar bones and his long neck, contrasting with his pale skin, light hair and really making his eyes pop. The eyes that made it so easy to get lost. They were like an ocean under the clear sky and bright sunlight, illuminating with thousands of glittering sparkles and the shades of azure and turquoise mixed and flew one into another, intertwining and creating an artwork impossible to recreate. If someone were to animate Satoru, the whole budget would probably go into his eyes alone.

“So, first you need to know that if what I want to give you is not something you feel comfortable accepting, please don’t feel obliged to and just say no. Okay?”, he spoke again and you nodded.

“Come on, Satoru. Just tell me. Or show me, whatever it is.”

“Show you. Alright, I can do that.”

You expected everything. Your mind even wandered into absurd such as him giving you an airplane for god knows what reason, but even in your boldest, bravest dreams you didn’t anticipate his lips on yours. He went all slow and soft about it, closing the distance carefully, leaving you with more than enough time to react and push him away if you wanted to, and when he finally reached you, planting a gentle kiss to your mouth, whilst his hand rested on the side of your neck a little stiffly, you froze for a second. Your body froze, but your heart was racing inside your chest, beating so hard he probably could hear it and feel it in your pulse underneath his palm. Satoru’s lips felt as soft as they looked, so perfect against yours even though what was happening wasn’t even resembling a kiss. It was more like a press with the slightest movement applied but it spoke so much. It was an offer – that way Gojo opened himself to you, ripped his own chest apart and with that simple peck on the lips, he wanted to tell you that now, he’s ready to be vulnerable with you, if you’d only want him to.

“Is my second gift a kiss from you?”, you questioned when he moved his head back just a little, searching for your reaction. It would be on brand for Gojo to consider a kiss from himself a valuable gift, which it was, but if that’s what he wanted to offer you, he had to put more effort into it.

“It’s me. If you’ll have me,” he almost whispered, smoothing over your jawline with his thumb. “Maybe it’s not the best idea to commit to relationship in our line of work, but fuck this. If you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

“Are you serious?”

“Never been more serious.”

Your heart fluttered. Grabbing his face in both of your hands, you went in and kissed him, pouring into it all of the love you held for him and he purred softly against your lips, wrapping his long arms around you and leaning more against you. He outweighed you; you lost your balance and fell back onto the couch and he followed you closely, breaking the kiss just to ask, “is that a yes?”

“Yes, Satoru. Very much yes,” you chuckled and his lips were back on yours, taking your breath away with how good it felt. Your fingers found a way through his silky, snowy white strands, you smoothed over the back of his neck and his broad shoulders, giving into the sensation that radiated throughout your entire nervous system, sending hot waves of pure euphoria down your spine and into every cell in your body. You were happy, the exhaustion now completely forgotten and only the man above you mattered. His weight felt so right on top of you, even in the insanely uncomfortable position you two were now trapped in with your hips twisted below his torso and him now half in the air and half on the couch because there was no way for his height to fit in here. But it didn’t matter. What mattered was his lips on yours, his warmth on your skin and-

“Doors,” you mumbled into the kiss, the gentle whiff of cold air reminded you of what has been forgotten. The doors, that were still wide open. He could feel your chest rumbling with a chuckle as you realized none of you cared enough to even close your apartment when you went in and he made a decision to ignore this fact, now completely consumed by the thought of you. He hummed something and moved his lips lower, smearing kisses all over your chin and down your neck and you tugged softly onto his hair. “Satoru, doors are still opened-”

Getting up, walking towards the entrance and locking the doors would be the logical thing to do, but the thought of parting his own body from yours for even a second now didn’t dare to cross Gojo’s mind, so he stretched his hand towards the doors, consumed by sucking a red spot to the side of your neck and you couldn’t believe it, but he blasted the door with a cursed energy. They shut with the loudest noise anyone could create at that hour in the middle of the night and not ten seconds passed, before they just fell out of frame and hit the floor with another harsh thud.

That seemed to do the trick in stopping the heat, because both of you froze for a moment and you looked to the side, he looked to the side and the world stopped for a whole five second, before you started laughing and playfully patting his shoulder.

“What have you done,” you whined. “Satoruu~”

“I’ll fix this,” he swore, hiding his face back into the crook of your neck, pretending like he wasn’t even there and you couldn’t help but brush through his hair as laughter still had the better of you. “Guess I’ll have to stay the night so you can be safe.”

“Guess that might be necessary.”

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