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acourtofwhatthefuck · 9 months

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Practice On Me — Part Three — Azriel x Reader

Summary: It’s not an Illyrian party without at least one person starting a fight. Azriel is a jealous little shit. Y/N wants to put the smile right back on his face.

(I really don’t want to ruin this chapter for u but I finished writing it and all I could hear was Camilla Cabello in my head singing “I’llll be hooome for chwismois” — you’ll see why)

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings: Some fiiiilthy language. 18+, NSFW, smut, minors dni 🌶️

It’s not that you and the others are trying to take advantage of Rhysand’s mother’s absence. But having an empty property at your disposal definitely comes in handy.

Particularly on nights like these, two weeks later, when the cottage is packed full with more people than it can reasonably host. There’s drinking and conversation and faces you don’t even recognise, and someone has brought Elpys Vine, a herb grown by someone’s sketchy great uncle on the continent that’s supposed to make you hallucinate.

Judging by the empty chair that a male opposite you keeps winking at, you think it’s probably having the desired effect.

The spot next to you dips down as Azriel takes a seat at your side. He hands you a drink, and so naturally, his arm drapes around your shoulders. It’s comforting — and also a relief, to know that things are still normal after what happened on this very couch two weeks earlier. Not a slither of awkwardness.

But your eyes have most definitely been snagging on every unfamiliar female around you and wondering if one of them could be the target of Azriel’s affections. If Kaeda is here tonight, he hasn’t said so.

Part of you wants to ask, and part of you…doesn’t. For whatever reason.

“This is definitely already way out of hand.” Az comments, cocking an eyebrow as he takes in the volume of people packed into the small space. “I thought it was supposed to be a small gathering.”

“That’s what Cassian told me, too.” You say, and then curiosity gets the better of you. You try to make it seem casual as you study the various females dotted throughout the room. “Is Kaeda here?”

Azriel’s eyes find yours, and he gives a small shake of his head. “No.”

“You didn’t invite her?”

“I didn’t invite anyone. That was Cassian’s job.”

You heave a very dramatic sigh indeed. Sometimes, Azriel is his own worst enemy.

Not that you’ve minded helping him so far — not at all. But surely there must come a point where he directs all he’s learnt at the intended person.

“I will make my move.” He tells you. “I’m just…not quite there yet. Still working on it.”

Fair enough, you suppose. Before you can say anything else, Cassian is suddenly slumping haphazardly into the space at your other side. One of Azriel’s shadows snakes out and clasps your drink before it can slosh down your front.

“Time for a game.” Cassian calls to the room, and you want to groan. Games with Cassian usually ensure chaos. “Let’s play Knife Point.”

There are enough enthusiastic responses that you know your reluctance will be wildly outnumbered. Knife Point is a game that’s used as a ruse to kiss as many people as you like — something you delighted in at fifteen, when kissing was still new to you, but you don’t feel quite the same excitement five years later. It’s pretty simple: a knife is placed in the centre of the table, and the players gather round. One-by-one, everyone takes their turns spinning the knife, and whoever the point settles on when it stops is who the spinner must kiss.

Basic, really. But Cassian loves kissing people.

You and Azriel share a look — one that says he’s no more excited for this than you are. And then you both crack a grin and settle into your seats, because you’ll always go along with Cassian’s shenanigans, even if you complain about them first.

“It seems only fair that the future high lord starts us off,” Cassian says, and slams a dagger down on the coffee table with unguarded enthusiasm. He grins at Rhys, who’s sat in an adjacent armchair with a curvy redhead on his lap. “Rhysand, darling — would you do the honours?”

Rhys flutters thick, dark lashes and gently removes the female from his thigh. “It would be my pleasure.”

The room watches closely as he spins the knife in a sleek way that has a few gazes heating. It spins fast, and then slows, slows, before landing on a female to his right whose name you don’t know. He angles himself towards her, and the smile he gives her most definitely has her falling head-over-heels in love, and the heated kiss he lands on her mouth most definitely has her falling head-over-heels in lust. She looks genuinely heartbroken when it comes to an end.

But then it’s her turn, and she’s kissing Jonan, an ex-fling of yours, and then Jonan is kissing Cassian, and then Cass is spinning the dagger and it’s pointing at you.

Your friend bellows a comical shriek of delight and jumps up so enthusiastically that this time, Az’s shadows can’t stop your drink from spilling. Cass is utterly oblivious as he turns to you with a wicked grin, holding his arms out.

“Come here, sweetpea.” He uses the nickname he’s called you for as long as you can remember. “Come make all my heated dreams come true.”

You snort, handing Az what remains of your drink and pushing to your feet. You intend to deliver a quick peck to Cassian’s lips, but so typically, he clasps your face with enough force to lift you from the floor, and his mouth lands heavily on yours.

Immediately, a chorus of jeers and laughs ring out around the circle. Cassian’s huge hand cups your jaw, and he kisses you like you’ve seen him kiss countless males and females before. It doesn’t matter that you’re his friend, an old comfort blanket — he gives you the exact same energy he gives them. He doesn’t do things by halves.

And the kiss certainly isn’t bad, if not a little strange. You can think of far worse people to be doing this with right now.

It goes on a little longer than necessary, and when you feel it deepen, feel Cassian’s tongue probing yours, you break away. Make a dramatic show of grimacing and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Damn.” Jonan snorts. “You didn’t kiss me like that, Cass.”

Cass smirks. “You’re not half as pretty, nor half as arousing.”

They squabble, and the game continues, and you slump back down by Azriel’s side, already tuning out the noise. You turn to retrieve your drink, only to find Az draining the rest of it.

“Hey.” You knock your arm against his. “I was going to finish that.”

He stares forward, not even looking at you as he quietly replies, “I figured you were too busy.”

Your face creases into a frown as you take in the stiff, rigid set of his body. He’s damn near hunched in that corner of the couch, and it can’t be comfortable with how his wings are a little squished, but it seems almost as if…as if he’s trying to put some space between you.

You try not to think too much about it as you return your attention to the game once more. The knife continues spinning and people continue kissing, and only once does the blade point in Azriel’s direction, to which he tersely announces he was never playing to begin with.

It’s that which makes you realise the reason behind his mood going south. He’s only just started exploring the art of kissing with you, only just started becoming comfortable with it. The last thing he’ll want to do is make a whole song and dance about it and kiss a near stranger in front of a group of people.

Combine that with his natural aversion to huge gatherings, and it makes sense, now, why he’s clutching your empty cup so tightly, and the muscle in his jaw keeps moving.

When everyone else is distracted, you place a hand on his arm.

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” You suggest. “Get some fresh air.”

But he barely looks at you. Just keeps staring forward. He shoots a quick, hard look in Cassian’s direction and rips it away just as fast.

“I’m fine here.” He says. “You knock yourself out.”

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You know Azriel well enough to know when his social tolerance is at an all-time-low, and being at a party is the worst possible thing for him.

He goes more and more into himself, his brooding, and he seems to emanate an invisible signal that warns people to stay far, far away. Not even the drunken, giggling females approach him. The Shadowsinger is in a dangerous mood, and it won’t take much to set him off.

He doesn’t seem all that interested in talking to you, either, given that all your attempts have been met with quiet, one-worded responses. And so, figuring he’ll come to you when he feels like it, you wander off to get yourself another drink, and you sink into the throes of the party.

At some point, you feel a warm touch on your forearm, and you turn to find Jonan there. He’s a damn nice male — for an Illyrian. A little cocky, maybe, but kind. Not the sexist brute that so many of them turn out to be. You and he had been two eighteen-year-olds, excited about exploring each other’s bodies and sex in general. Realistically, it was never going to go anywhere, but you ended things in good spirits, and you’ve very casually fallen into each other’s beds on a few occasions since.

Judging by the way his dark eyes drink you in, you’re sure he’s hoping that tonight will end in the same manner.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” You say as you pull back from the hug he gives you.

His eyes seem to glimmer with flirtation. “Perhaps you haven’t been looking hard enough.”

You snort. “Or perhaps you don’t train close enough for us to run into each other all that often.”

That’s definitely it. The Illyrian males are sorted into different training groups based on a whole host of different things. Unsurprisingly, Rhys, Cassian and Azriel are in the most skilled group. Jonan is in a different one.

And it’s Jonan’s group, you know, that has just got back from a harsh training exercise that takes them away for weeks at a time. Which is the most likely cause of you having not seen him in passing.

Azriel’s group will be the next to go on one last training exercise before everyone breaks for the winter solstice. They’ll be setting off any day now, as soon as they’re called forth by their general. A few weeks without your three closest friends is a thought you don’t want to linger on.

“How was the training exercise?” You ask, genuinely interested. There will always be a part of you that wishes that was you, out there, putting your skills to use.

But you’re female. And females stay behind.

“Fucking brutal.” Jonan answers. “The weather is bad this year, so we were out there a week longer than we were supposed to be. My sleep pattern is still fucked.”

“Sounds like you need to relax.”

“Oh, I do.” His eyes trail down your body. “Perhaps you can help me with that.”

You open your mouth, not entirely sure what you mean to reply. All you know is that you’re not jumping at the offer of easy, mindless sex like you have done in the past.

But before you can respond, Jonan is stumbling forward, into you. Thanks to a huge, muscled body knocking into him.

He whips around to face Azriel, spilled drink forgotten in his hand. You didn’t even see Az‘s approach.

“Watch it, Shadowsinger.” Jonan narrows his eyes at him. “You almost knocked Y/N over.”

Azriel stops and eyes Jonan with clear dismissal. A rare, antagonising expression sits on his flawless features. “Are you talking to me?”

“Do you see any other shadowy fucks around here?”

One side of Azriel’s lips twitch up in satisfaction. So rarely does he waste his time looking for a fight, but he’s looking for one now — and has found one.

“What I see,” he says, and steps closer to Jonan, towering over him considerably, “is an irritating little cunt who’s in my way. Move.”

But Jonan doesn’t move. Like a typical Illyrian, he salivates at the prospect of a punch-up. He looks a little pathetic as he tries to square up against Az.

“Now, now, Azriel,” he sneers. “That’s no way to talk about Y/N, is it?”

And the mention of your name in Jonan’s mouth is all it takes for Azriel to launch himself at him. There’s not nearly enough room for this, and as he grabs Jonan by the front of his tunic and slams him against the wall, all sorts of surrounding objects go flying.

At once, everyone is turning to watch the confrontation. And so fucking typically, of all the people in the room, neither Rhysand nor Cassian are anywhere to be found.

Which means you’re dealing with this alone. Because nobody else will care to break this up.

You curse quietly and jump in just as Jonan goes to land a hit on Azriel’s jaw. He falters as you throw yourself between them as best as you can at the angle. It’s not great, but you manage to wedge an arm between them.

“Hey. Enough.” You snap, and it feels like all the times you’ve reprimanded the camp younglings. “Cut this out right now.”

Jonan scowls. And actually says, “He started it.”

It makes you never want to have sex with him again. Never have you been drier between your thighs.

“I don’t give a shit. It stops now.” You stare between them seriously, and then you’re firmly grasping Azriel’s arm. “Az, we’re leaving. Now.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation, like Azriel really, really does not want to give up the fight. But then he’s letting go of Jonan’s shirt, more or less dropping him to the floor.

“Fine by me.” Az fucking smirks at the male. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

You don’t spare Jonan a single further look as Azriel grabs your hand and pulls you through the thralls of people, all disappointed at a fight not coming to fruition. But their attention is quickly stolen by something else, and you don’t look back as you and Az step out into the cold.

Az begins to walk as though the past minute never even happened. You’re quick to catch up to him and grab hold of his forearm.

“Hey.” Your breath clouds in front of your face in the cold night air. “What was that?”

Azriel shrugs. “It was nothing. He is nothing.”

“You—”

“It’s fucking freezing, Y/N. Can we just go?”

You stare back at him. The urge to pry more, demand an explanation, is a strong one. But it is freezing, and in this frame of mind, you’re not certain he’ll tell you anything, anyway. He’s in a strange mood — probably in anticipation of the upcoming training exercise. Perhaps unwisely, you decide to drop it.

“Go where?” You concede. The biting cold makes the decision to do so much easier.

“Dormitories. You can stay with me tonight.”

Dormitories is a very generous term for the limited accommodation that is offered to each training legion. Most of it sits unused, due to the majority of Illyrians preferring the harsh, toughening dwellings of tents and crumbling old houses in all extreme weathers. But a certain amount of small, draughty rooms are available, and Az tends to make use of his when the cottage begins to feel too crowded, and he needs a break from living on top of Rhys and Cass.

There’s no hammering droves of snow tonight, and you’ve patched up your boots enough to hopefully last you a little longer. A broad expanse of stars glimmers above you, making it a rather pleasant night for a stroll — or it would be, if not for the unavoidable presence of Azriel’s bad mood.

Your attempts at conversation are met with non-committal responses, and by the time you’re kicking through the peeling wooden door to the accommodation, you’re fucking exasperated.

Azriel can be very, very insufferable when he thinks himself into a foul mood.

You could go home, back to your father’s house — you certainly consider it as you follow Az into his cramped dwellings, but…you don’t know. You wouldn’t like to leave him like this. To walk away without seeing him crack a little smile. In nine years of friendship, you’ve never done so before. So you shut and lock the door behind you, and resign yourself to a very silent, very tense night.

You press your back against the door, watching as Azriel perches on the edge of the bed and removes his shoes. Through the walls, you hear the distinct sound of skin slapping against skin, and the building moans of a female close to climax. This miserable building is more often used as a place for a quick fuck than it is to actually sleep in.

But Az doesn’t seem to notice as he shrugs out of his clothing, quickly slipping on a pair of low-slung cotton sleeping trousers, and sprawls out across the mattress, wings fanning around him.

You’re not sure why you don’t move, at first. Or maybe you are.

Your gaze snags on the toned muscles of Azriel’s torso, and the smattering of dark hair that maps a line from beneath his bellybutton to what sits under his trousers. You’ve seen it countless times before, and yet you can’t stop staring.

Particularly when he stretches his arms above his head, and then drags a hand down his stomach. To him, it’s a subconscious act, but to you—

You can’t stop yourself zeroing in on his hand. The very hand that touched you and bathed you in a pleasure so stunning, so splintering, that you hadn’t dared to try and replicate it yourself since. Such inexperienced fingers had coaxed such expert sensations—

“Are you coming to bed?” Azriel’s voice drags you from your thoughts.

“…Right.” You clear your throat. “Yeah.”

“There’s a shirt for you in the armoire.”

You shuck off your clothes, digging out the tunic you often borrow from Az to sleep in. He barely spares you a glance, his eyes glued to the ceiling. You can’t help heaving a sigh as you pad over and slip beneath the blanket. The faelights wink out, and for a while, you both lie there in silence. It’s you who eventually breaks it.

“Are you going to tell me what that fight with Jonan was about?”

Az slings an arm above his head. “You were there. I’d hardly call it a fight.”

“No, I’d call it an overreaction.”

“Jonan’s an arrogant bastard and everyone knows it.”

He brooks no room for argument. And he’s not exactly wrong, either. You know Jonan gets himself into more brawls than the average person. But Az wasn’t exactly justified tonight.

But before you can think of a response, he says, quietly, “Sorry — if I ruined your night.”

You pause. And then roll onto your side, staring at his outline through the darkness. “You didn’t. I didn’t want to go to the party, anyway.”

There’s a tiny, soft snort. “Me neither.” He agrees. “But going along with Cassian’s ideas is the story of our lives.”

“That it is.”

Az says no more, does no more. And you…you hate it. Because it’s not simply that he’s sleepy and dozing off beside you. He’s just as awake as you are. And his mood is still heavy and tense.

You can’t stand it.

It’s perhaps against your better judgement that you inch closer to him, your mind already made up about how you might lift his spirits. It’s dangerous, because your arrangement has simply been about helping him, and he’s always been the instigator, knowing what he needs and when he needs it. Which he most certainly isn’t doing now.

But you would be helping him…in a way. And you can’t lie and say that it hasn’t bothered you, over the past two weeks, that you didn’t get to return the pleasure he gave you.

It would still be a learning experience. That’s what you tell yourself as you press against his side and drape your arm over his stomach.

Az pauses, but this isn’t unusual for the pair of you. You’ve cuddled like this plenty of times over the years — with your other friends, too. And so there’s no hesitation as he slides an arm beneath you and tugs you closer, his wing tucking you in.

You rest your head on his chest, and you murmur, “I don’t want you to go on the training exercise.”

You really, really don’t.

You always miss your friends when they’re sent away, but it seems…heavier, somehow, this time. Like there’s more between you to miss.

That…that is not a good thought to have.

You banish it from your mind rather than dwelling on it.

Az’s hand presses against your back. “I’ll be home in time for Solstice.”

You hear the unspoken promise in that statement; the one Azriel knows you need to hear. Because this isn’t just about simply missing his company.

Solstice is…hard for you, to say the least. Being holed up with your father, him drinking from the crack of dawn until he collapses in a chair by the fire. His unpredictable, volatile moods and tendency to pick at you over every tiny thing. It’s the time of year you rely on your friends the most, and you spend the entire day waiting for your father to pass out so you can sneak away and forget him for a while.

Azriel’s bare skin is so pleasantly warm, lulling you back to the present. You shelve your worries for the time being, press your cheek against his pectoral, and breathe in his frost-and-cedar scent. His wing drapes over you, cocooning the two of you in your own little world.

And there’s no better place than inside that world to ease some of Azriel’s tension. Bring the smile back to his lips.

“…Az?” You whisper, slowly gliding a hand over his stomach.

His body tenses beneath you. There’s a pause before he answers, “Yes?”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing…” He clears his throat. “Nothing much. What are you thinking about?”

The question is an opening for you to stop this right here. You could return a similar, half-assed response, remove your hand from his stomach and go to sleep. Like any sensible, reasonable friend would do.

Or you could be honest.

You could tell Azriel that your close proximity has you thinking all about the magic of his fingers, the sensations he wrought from you. You could admit that it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve thought about it since it happened — not at all. You could tell him that you’re still a little stunned, because besides yourself, nobody has ever made you come that hard.

You could tell him how badly you want — need — to return the favour.

And never one to back down from a situation, however daunting, you do exactly that.

“I’m thinking…” you murmur, and your finger begins to just slightly trace lines over his stomach. Your touch is so light, and yet you feel his body react beneath you. “I’m thinking that there’s more I’d like to teach you about touching.”

A little breath escapes him. “Oh?”

“Mhm.” That finger of yours gets a little bolder, making bigger sweeps over his skin and dancing close to his waistband. “But this time, I want to touch you. You made me feel so good, Azriel. I want to make you feel good as well.”

“You…you don’t have to do that.”

Gods, you know you don’t. You know this situation has never been about him expecting anything from you. Just a friend helping a friend out. No big deal.

But who says you can’t both get something out of it?

“I know I don’t have to.” You answer him. Your hand stops its movements, and you stare up at him, your eyes accustomed enough to the dark to make out certain features. “And I won’t, if you don’t want me to. Do you want me to?”

A tiny, tiny little pause.

And then Azriel rasps, “Yes.”

It’s a guttural, gasping sound, and it’s so delicious that you want to swallow it.

You don’t hesitate in moving your hand up to his face. You angle it towards you. Slant your lips over his.

And you smile. There’s a mulled wine that Azriel far prefers drinking over the piss-poor ale that most males around here favour, and it’s not the first time you’ve tasted it on him. It’s pleasing to explore — the spices and berries and damp heat of his mouth a combination that coaxes you to slide your tongue between his lips.

Az seems pretty well comfortable with his kissing technique, now. He leans into it, not at all tentative, his tongue meeting the strokes of yours. And then he suddenly breaks away.

“I like—this.” He pants heavily, breath fanning your face. “I like doing this.”

The words make something glow inside you, because that is precisely what you want. This isn’t just about teaching him the technicalities of physical touch. It’s about liberating him from the barriers he’s built in his mind, and showing him how much he can enjoy it.

And your friend deserves that.

You plan to really show him.

You slide your hand over his hip and haul him closer, eliminating the tiny little gap that existed between your bodies. An act that makes him suck in a breath.

“If I do anything at all that you don’t like, you need to tell me, Az.” You stare at him. “Okay?”

He nods.

“I need your words. Swear it.”

“Gods, Y/N, I swear it.”

He kisses you this time.

He really does like doing that.

The kiss is hot and hungry, loitering on the precipice of being frenzied. Azriel’s hand slides to the back of your neck, his fingers kneading the skin there. A dim faelight blinks back to life, bathing the two of you in enough warm light to see each other. His tongue pushes past the seam of your lips.

But you don’t give him the chance to stroke at your mouth. There are a million other places you can think of kissing; a million other places you’re just as desperate to get your mouth on.

Your lips glide along Azriel’s jaw with the lightness of a breeze. He goes still, appearing to wait with bated breath to see what you’ll do next, and how it will feel. He’s never been kissed here before.

Nor at his neck. You kiss the skin gently, at first, and smile to yourself at the little breath that hitches in Az’s throat. Something told you he’d be amenable to neck kisses.

Indeed, he is, as you attach your lips to the column of his throat and suck.

It’s a soft ungh, this time, that escapes him. A noise of both surprise and delight. Perhaps he never before considered the sensitivity of the neck, how enjoyable it might be to be kissed there. It’s one of many things you want to be the one to teach him.

You suck and lave at the area until his stomach is caving beneath your hand, and then you’re moving on, dragging your mouth over his collarbone. Down to his pectoral.

His skin is hot but its taste is cold — cold, like his scent. Frost and snow, icy starlight, the whipping winds and thrill of flying. Gods, it’s all delicious, and you close your mouth over his nipple, desperate to taste more.

Azriel starts, his back arching just a little. Your eyes flit up to his as your tongue teases the peaked flesh.

“This okay?” You check, allowing your teeth to graze just a little.

“Yes.” Az breathes. “I never considered that that might feel good for—for a male, too.”

You smile, repeating the action, fastening your lips totally around the nipple and giving a gentle suck. It earns you another quiet sound in response.

But you don’t want quiet. You want to make your friend feel so good that he can’t keep a lid on those sounds. The muscles of his stomach are quivering under your palm, and you decide it’s unfair to make him wait any longer.

So as your tongue circles his nipple, you slip your fingers beneath the waistband of his trousers.

You’re careful, even though you know the sharp intake of breath is a positive one. Nobody’s hands but his own have ever ventured here. You want him to be aware of every touch, every feeling.

Your fingers skate over the dusting of fine, coarse hair. And lower. And then your hand is on his cock.

The mere weight of your touch drags a breathless little noise from Azriel’s throat. And you pause.

Azriel is big, even by Illyrian standards.

From touch alone, you can feel its length, its thickness. You’re not entirely sure you can fit him in your hand, let alone anywhere else.

But gods are you willing to try.

You take your time exploring every detail, starting at the smooth, swollen head — already leaking a droplet of moisture —and circling its rim with your finger. Azriel’s hips jerk, and you smile, removing your mouth from his nipple to kiss further down,

“Still doing okay?” You ask, coasting your lips over his ribs. The pads of your fingers stroke over the head of his cock slowly, casually.

But there is absolutely nothing casual about Az’s voice as he grounds out, “I’m doing great.”

“Want me to keep going—”

“Please.” The word escapes his mouth before you can even finish the sentence. “Please.”

You smile, and you scoot lower down his body, giving yourself the perfect angle to explore the muscles of his abdomen with your mouth, your tongue.

It allows you to feel the exact moment you glide your palm down the length of Azriel’s cock, following the long, jagged vein.

Gods, it feels like it goes on forever.

The skin is velvety, smoothing over every vein, every bump and ridge. You explore it all, as much for your enjoyment as for his. You can’t imagine what it must be like to feel it sliding in and out of you, hitting a spot so deep inside you that you’d have to bite the mattress—

A thought you should not be having. It isn’t going that far.

And there’s a twinge of disappointment at that fact. But now isn’t the time for disappointment.

You trace the length of Azriel’s cock all the way down to his balls, and he’s trembling beneath you. You tug at his trousers, whisper, “Can I pull these down?”

It might be silly to ask, given that your hand is already well beneath the fabric. But you want him to have a choice in everything.

So when he gives a firm nod and lifts his hips for you, you tug the cotton trousers down, peeling them easily from his hips.

Azriel’s cock springs up. And it…it might just be the most perfect cock you’ve ever seen.

You damn near moan at the sight of it.

But before the sound can escape you, you smother it by pressing your lips to Azriel’s stomach. You kiss the skin, lap at it, graze your teeth over it. And your hand returns to his hardened length.

Finally — fucking finally — you wrap your hand around him.

Azriel makes a gasping sound at your touch, his hips canting up into your hand. He’s so responsive to your touch that you have to clench your thighs together to ignore your own arousal. This is about him. Entirely about him.

It’s about him as you slowly begin to pump his shaft, peppering kisses down and down until you’re at his hip. It’s about him as you squeeze gently and hear the hitching of his breath.

“So responsive,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his hip.

“Is that—gods—” He hisses between his teeth as you pump a little faster, “—is that a good thing?”

“Very good, Az. I want to know that you’re enjoying it.”

“I am. Fuck, Y/N, I am.”

“Good.” Another kiss lands on his skin. “You’re doing so good for me.”

The praise drags another noise from the depths of his throat — the loudest he’s made so far. You don’t know whether he’s simply gaining in confidence, or whether he’s losing control. Maybe both. Hopefully both.

And you think you might lose control, too. Watch with rapt fascination as the head of his cock leaks, and it’s swelling, thickening in your hand, and you know he’s not going to last much longer.

You really want to taste him before he falls off the edge.

“Holy gods,” Azriel pants, his teeth biting into his lower lip. “Y/N, I don’t think I’m gonna last.”

“Don’t fight it.” You lick your lips. “Can I put my mouth on you?”

The question makes him fucking groan, and he chokes out an affirmative response, his cock rutting into your hand. You know he’s close, and you want him to finish. Preferably on your tongue.

And when you slide your mouth onto his cock, you know that’s going to happen.

You hollow your cheeks, sucking him into your mouth as much as you can.

Azriel shouts, his head falling back, eyes screwed shut. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You suck on him, tongue tracing the length of the vein that’s beginning to throb. He doesn’t seem to be aware of the way he slides his hands into your hair, his hips rolling.

“Y/N,” he pants, your name languid and slurred on his tongue, “m’sofuckingclose.”

You pull your mouth off of him long enough to say, “Look at me. Watch me while you come.”

And then you’re sucking him again, your hand wrapped around the base of his length. You pump and lick him and bob your head in time to Az’s hips canting against you, and you think the sounds he’s making may just be the most beautiful ones you’ve ever heard.

And he watches you so closely, his brow furrowed, his lips parted, his chest heaving. Your gaze collides with his, and you’re hollowing your cheeks and giving a particularly harsh suck.

“Oh, gods, Y/N, fuck!”

Azriel spills into your mouth, shot after shot coating your tongue. You take it all, swallowing greedily, savouring the saltiness and the hint of something else that is just Azriel. It seems endless, and so do his groans, his constant string of curses, the jerking of his hips and the trembles wracking through his entire body.

You damn well suck him dry. Not a drop is spared.

As you finally pull him out of your mouth, wipe your lips with the back of your hand and glimpse his shaking, sated form, you know you’re committing the sight to memory. For when this is all over.

He’s…he’s a vision. Head still tipped back. Stomach and chest still heavily rising and falling. Pleasure still pinching his face. His hands are fisted tightly in the bedsheets.

You leave him to come down from his high. He’s still panting a little when his head lolls forward, and his eyes meet yours.

“That was—” His voice cracks a little. “God’s, Y/N, I don’t have words.”

“It’s okay.” You press a gentle kiss to his stomach, tucking his sensitive length back into his trousers. “Words aren’t necessary. You did so well.”

His arms are suddenly around you, tugging you up and against him, your body slanted slightly over his. All the earlier tension from the night is gone, and it’s just you and him, your love and friendship, your unbreakable bond.

Az holds you tightly, burying into your hair. And you think that this was maybe more than just…you returning a favour. You think this might have been a soul-shifting moment for him. Something that released him from the invisible bindings that have held him back for so long.

And it saddens you a little to think that that might be the end of it. That you’ve done all you can do.

But still, you’re honoured to have helped him this far. To have guided him through it.

“Thank you.” He whispers, dropping a kiss onto the top of your head. He’s still trembling, and he tucks himself in tight as if he’s worried he might break. “Just…thank you.”

You don’t quite know what to say. It feels a little…final, and you don’t like that.

So you simply nestle into his side, and you repeat your earlier truth, your voice a whisper. “I don’t want you to go on the training exercise.”

Because you know you’ll miss him more than you ever have before. It’s going to be far harder this time.

What, exactly, that means…you can’t bear to think of it right now.

And there’s no need to as Az holds you tightly, kisses your head again.

“I’ll be there with you on Solstice.” He says. “I promise.”

azriel tags: @hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere @audie-writes @aaronwarnerswifereal @starxqt @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 3 months

Text

Marriage Proposal

Pairing: Dark Peter Parker x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: You should’ve broken up with Peter long ago. Now you deal with the consequences.

WARNINGS: --

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

–

You reluctantly look up from your plate at the feeling of a hand covering your own, the warmth irradiating from the firm palm making you itchy to remove the hand, but you let it be.

"Happy anniversary, babe.” Peter smiles at you, so genuine and loving, and you force your lips to stretch into a pleasant smile.

“I can’t believe we’ve been together for a year now. I feel like we’ve only met yesterday but here we are.” he says with a chuckle.

“It’s as if time flies away when you’re in love, right?”

You weakly nod, opting to bring the wine glass to your lips to give you an excuse to avert eyes. But that doesn’t stop the turmoil of emotions that devastates you inside, the guilt eating you away.

You’re a horrible girlfriend. And a coward one too. One that keeps prolonging and dragging time, too timid to break-up.

Not tonight, you decide, delaying the confrontation furthermore. Peter is so happy and you’d hate to break his heart on such an occasion.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

“This place is really gorgeous, I love it.” you say, allowing your eyes to wander around the restaurant.

The place is indeed pretty. Elegant but at the same time, private and personal. It suits Peter.

Tension accompanies throughout the entire dinner as you play the girlfriend role dutifully, pretending to laugh at Peter’s jokes and smiling at him.

A part of you feels so bad for it, there used to be a time where you actually loved Peter.

You still like and respect him, he’s a great guy, unlike many men. But you’re no longer the same person that you were when you meet him.

And Peter…

He’s the one that took a 180º change. Deep inside, he probably means well, intending to protect you but that isn’t enough to make you stay.

Not if you want to have a toxic-free life. A life without having to answer a full interrogation when you plan to hang out with friends.

A life without having to call and text your boyfriend about what you’re doing, otherwise he’ll most likely show up at your workplace, face pinched with worry because you failed to contact him.

You’re so caught up by your thoughts that you wince, surprised when people start clapping and cheering, everyone’s attention fully on your table.

When you confusedly look for Peter, your whole world drops.

The world seems to stop when you look to your side as Peter gets down on one knee, a jittery smile curling his lips.

Your face drops in horror, mind frozen and unable to think.

“Peter…”

“I know, I know.” he brushes you off, joy irradiating from him, “Just let me say this first, yeah? I’m so nervous.”

Your mouth opens and closes a few times and you blink, unable to fully comprehend what’s going on. This can’t be true…

This has to be a prank, there’s no way that Peter is actually proposing to you. But your doubts are swiftly cleared as a small and elegant velvet box appears in the scene.

No…

Peter clears out his throat with a small noise before looking at you, and you realize how nervous he actually is, a light layer of sweat in his forehead.

“I had this whole speech ready, you know. Been preparing it for weeks now.” he confesses after a long moment, shaking his head.

“Tony helped me write it. Lots of fancy poetic words and-and I completely forgot all of it.”

“But what I really wanna say is that I love you, Y/N.” Peter declares, his voice gaining determination, “From the moment I saw you, I knew that you were the one for me. I was lucky enough that you gave me a chance to prove to you how much I care for you…”

Your heart tightens at those words and you clutch the table’s fabric, feeling yourself helpless.

“... and this past year has been amazing. The best year of my life. All because of you.” Peter smiles tenderly at you, his hands working on opening the velvet box and you feel yourself tensing up when a delicate silver ring comes into sight.

“So…Y/N L/N, will you give me the honor of being your husband?”

And just like that, you faintly nod, not trusting your voice to speak. Peter beams at you and you do your best to retribute, despite the numbness that strikes you like a bullet.

The restaurant explodes in a loud applause and Peter wastes no time in pushing the pretty ring on your hand, engulfing you in a tight hug.

“I love you so much.” he feverously kisses your head.

You push your face against his chest, hoping to hide the tears that burn in your eyes as you start regretting saying yes already.

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere avengers #yandere marvel #yandere peter parker #dark marvel #dark peter parker #dark peter parker x reader #yandere peter parker x reader #dark!peter parker #dark!peter parker x reader #yandere!peter parker #yandere!peter parker x reader #tw: yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #tw: toxic relationships

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mostlymarvelsstuff · 7 months

Text

Howling Hearts

Summary: Countess Romanoff and her lover, Lady Maximoff, find themselves inexplicably drawn to the Countesses oldest, most trusted and loyal guards. One night after a particularly rambunctious banquet, they finally decide to act on these forbidden urges and claim the two wolves as their own.

Warnings: talk of blood/feeding on blood, graphic violence, slight Omegaverse concepts for the werewolves, Reader has a penis, sexual content (fingering, oral sex, vaginal sex, breeding)

Authors note: first time writing Bucky in anything, so please go easy on me if he seems out of character at any point 💖

Authors note 2.0: sorry this is later than intended, still hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 10011 (im sorry its so long lmao) 2023 Halloween Specials Marvel Masterlist

It was a cool evening, and a soft rain pattered against the castle's stained glass windows, providing a tranquil atmosphere to the room. Several times now you've become a bit lost in that feeling and have let your eyes linger a bit too long on Countess Romanoff as she sits in her exquisite chair by the fireplace.

Admiring her wasn’t new, in fact you were sure that after so many centuries you could paint the curve of her lips blindfolded and you were certain that your mate James could too. But lusting after the vampire that you were in service of wasn’t exactly acceptable behavior. If any other werewolf heard of such a thing it wouldn't go over well. Falling for the species that imprisoned yours to use like glorified watch dogs…they’d shun you at the very least.

“Lady Romanoff, Starks fledgling is here to see you.” one of her guards announces, breaking the peaceful silence

A brunette boy stands there beside the guard with wide eyes and he quickly offers the Countess a polite bow. She chuckles at his clear nervous energy and beckons him forward. Somehow the young vampires wobbly legs carry him further into the room

“So young one” the Countess begins, giving the visitor her full attention “What brings you here on this lovely evening?”

And lovely it had been indeed. With her lover out for the day it left her able to just focus on the presence of her two oldest and most trusted guards, her wolves. Something Wanda would indulge in as well, but normally they’d be too wrapped up in each other to daydream long. At least while in the same room as you, in their bedchambers it was a different story. But alas, the arrival of this fledgling had chased her decidedly naughty thoughts from her head.

“Lord Stark wanted you to be informed that he and Lady Potts shall be in attendance of your upcoming banquet” he tells her, looking like he might pass out from anxiety at any second

“Thank you and I’m glad to hear that. Do give them my best when you return home”

He quickly nods and understanding that to be a dismissal he turns on his heels and heads back out the door you're standing by. He passes you with such a speed that you have half a mind to tell him to let the horse ride in the carriage as he takes the reins, but you hold your tongue. A good thing too, because no sooner did he disappear from view did Lady Maximoff arrive.

She smiles as she passes by and heads straight for her lover, kissing the woman's cheek before taking a seat on her lap. You're used to such behavior by now, but at the start it had surprised you, as the Countess was not one to allow such affections from her nightly escapades. Then again, Wanda had always been different. She wasn’t some fledgling picked up for fun, nor was she a human chosen to be a plaything before a meal. No, she was every part an elder vampire, just as your master was, and they were quite old friends before the relationship ever began.

“Hello moya lyubov'(my love), is your brother well?”

The brunette smiles, “He is, and still annoying. Who did I pass in the hallway?”

“Starks fledgling, here to tell me that my invite was accepted” she explains

“Oh good. It's not a proper banquet without Tony”

The redhead chuckles, “How very true. We’ll have to have the kitchen staff keep extra glassware on hand, just in case he causes a debacle like last time.”

The two continue talking, making plans for the upcoming party as well as catching up on what the other had been up to in the few hours that they had been apart. You and James tried your best to stay focused and not watch the way the Countesses hands roamed across her lover's waistline and mid back as they converse but that proved to be a very difficult task.

Eventually one of their servants enters the room with two goblets, indicating it was time for the two women to feed. Now, they could eat food like you and James did, but it did nothing for them. It didn't fill them or give them sustenance so it was something that they really only did when they felt like it or were craving something particular. Otherwise, it was all blood. The fresher, the better.

"Here you are, my Lady" the servant greets, handing both women their cups

“Thank you Sylvia” the Countess says before taking a deep gulp

The servant quickly excuses herself, heading back to whatever duties she was attending to before she needed to bring the two women their meal, and part of you wishes you could follow her. Not because you wished to be apart from anyone you were currently in the company of, but due to the feeling that stirs in your gut, and to your embarrassment, sometimes your pants, when you witnessed the women consume blood.

You couldn’t help it, there was just something about being able to watch them feed. The way their fangs grew before they sunk them into their victim, their eyes turning nearly black as they drained the person's essence to fulfill their need was incredibly enchanting. And the way the red liquid dripped from the corners of their mouth, or how they licked their lips afterwards had your heart racing. Which is exactly how you feel now as a drop of blood trickles down from the corner of the Countesses mouth, down past her jawline and down her neck.

Wanda notices this droplet as soon as Natasha moves her cup and she wastes no time in leaning over, letting her tongue lap up the treat before she attaches her lips to that same spot. She begins to suck a mark into the pale skin there, eliciting a throaty chuckle from the older vampire

“Behave. You are not the only one currently present”

Wanda's eyes travel over to James as she continues to mark up Natasha, before they eventually move to look at you as well. You sincerely hope she hadn’t noticed the way you shifted your stance in order to adjust the growing bulge at the front of your pants. The last thing you wanted was for either woman to begin to feel uncomfortable around you, or find you some kind of pervert.

“Dorogoy(darling), I said behave” the older woman repeats, gently tugging Wanda's hair to remove her from her neck and get her attention once more

“But I like getting to mark you. I like the reaction it elicits”

Natasha smiles, “I like it too. But if that's something you want, then our room is a much more suitable place for us”

Wanda wordlessly removes herself from her girlfriend's lap and waits for the redhead to stand before they both begin to make her way towards the doorway where you and James stand by. Wanda shyly smiles at you both and turns to the left, indicating that the bedchamber was exactly where they were headed

“If anyone needs me” the Countess states, looking at James, “I’m not to be disturbed until I’m out of my room. Unless it's of utmost urgency”

“Of course, my Lady” he responds, and she quickly follows after the brunette. After he's sure she's out of hearing range he looks to you with a brow raised, “Really?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Down the hall, Wanda finds herself pinned to the mattress as Natasha slowly undresses her, “So wet already. You get turned on marking me up in front of them?”

“Yes” she whimpers, remembering how she felt like she was putting on a show for you both earlier

“Mmm, you weren’t the only one” Nat replies against her lovers ear, making the younger vampire shudder, “They liked it too”

Wanda's eyes shut as she tilts her head back, the feeling of hands roaming across her now bare body fogging her mind. Still she manages a reply, “Yeah?”

“Oh, yes. Couldn't you see the hunger in their eyes? Or the bulge in Y/ns pants?"

Another whimper leaves the brunette as Natasha gropes her breasts, "Yes, I saw"

"And you liked it, didn't you? Causing that reaction in them."

"I loved it…" she admits, looking into Nats eyes, "I want them, Tasha"

"I know, my love. I do too, but you know we can't." She sighs, "Even if they feel the same, you know we can't. Our laws forbid it."

Wanda sighs, a sadness now etched upon her features, "But I don't care about keeping the bloodline pure, and neither do you. So why can't we indulge in our heart's desires?"

"Because we could be found out, which would endanger James and Y/n"

"But- "

"Shhh darling" Nat interrupts, kissing her girlfriend's plush lips, "Just focus here right now. Can you do that for me?" The younger vampire nods and Natasha smirks at how eager she already seems, “Good girl”

The mixture of praise and her girlfriend's touch causes Wanda to moan, and Natasha finds herself eager to hear more. She pulls more sounds from the brunette by pinching her nipples and sucking marks along her collarbone, letting her fangs brush against the sensitive skin there.

Occupied by her lover's mouth, Wanda had failed to notice the removal of one of Natashas hands from her chest, until she felt a thumb press against her clit. Her hips jump slightly and another, more throaty moan leaves her as Nat slides a finger through her wet folds

Wanda whimpers, her walls clenching around nothing, “I need you inside me, please”

“I’ve got you” Nat coos, slowly inserting one of her fingers into her girlfriends tight hole

“Please, more” she begs, and taking note of how wet she already is, Natasha slides a second finger inside, stretching her open as her thumb circles her clit, “Oh god, fuck me Tasha, please”

Nat smirks and quickly begins to thrust her fingers, and she leans down to capture her lips in a kiss. She easily dominates the action, sliding her tongue into the awaiting girl's mouth while avoiding her fangs. Wanda's walls tighten around the older woman's fingers, causing her to smile and break away from the kiss

“That feel good, my love?”

“So…good” she pants, trying hard to catch the breath Nat keeps stealing from her, but its of no use when the redhead quickens her pace, “Ooh fuck!”

“Which one are you picturing taking you right now?” Nat asks, smirk still plastered on her face. Wanda only wimpers, her fists tightening against the silk sheets as her head leans back, “It's ok darling, you can tell me. I wanna know”

“James!” she practically shouts, feeling herself nearing her orgasm

“Leaving poor Y/n out, hm?” Nat teases

“No” she gasps, trying hard to focus on her fantasy, “She's…ooh!”

Nat soothes her by kissing her chest softly, “She's what? Tell me”

“She's making me suck her cock”

Nat hums, fully agreeing with the mental picture her lover is painting, “I bet she tastes so good. Don’t you think?”

“Yes!” she moans, her back arching off the bed

“And James would absolutely fill your pretty pussy up, is that what you want?” she questions, nipping at the younger girls jawline

The brunette's walls clamp down around Nat's fingers, “Yes! Oh god Tasha, please can I cum?”

“Go ahead dorogoy(darling), cum”

Wanda's legs shake as a loud moan leaves her, and her juices drip down her girlfriends hand to the sheets below. Natasha continues to slowly fuck her through her orgasm, prolonging her high until all she can do is whimper and grab at the older woman.

“Good girl” she praises, gently pulling her fingers free before licking them clean, “Mmm, I’ll never tire of how you taste”

“Can I taste you now? Please?”

Nat smiles and quickly rids herself of her own clothes before she settles herself against the mattress, and if that wasn’t a clear enough ‘yes’ she spreads her thighs wide to reveal her pussy

“So pretty” Wanda mumbles, leaning in to pepper her girlfriend's thighs with marks of their own

The closer she gets to the redheads core, the more intense the older womans breathing becomes, until finally it's too much for her to take, “Come on darling, I thought you wanted to taste”

Wanda quickly lets her tongue dart out, lapping up some of her girlfriends essence that had leaked out. The older woman lets out a small moan, which only urges Wanda on. She licks again, this time letting her tongue go even deeper inside as her nose bumps against Nats clit

“Oh god, just like that”

Priding herself on doing as she told, Wanda keeps going, exploring every part of the beautiful redhead before her with her talented mouth. The moans she's able to get her girlfriend to make only make her want to cause her more pleasure, and Natasha quickly finds herself reaching her own release

“Fuck…” she mumbles, struggling to voice her own fantasy, “I wonder if Y/n can eat pussy as good as you”

Wanda nips at the woman, meaning it as more of a ‘no ones as good as me’, but all it manages to do is leave her girlfriend grinding against her face

“I’m so close Wans, please”

Hearing her lovers please Wanda moves to suck on her clit and is rewarded with a gush of juices and a scream of her name. She carefully moves up the bed, straddling her lover's body before kissing her. The two stay locked together, passionately making out for what seems like hours as they continue to pleasure each other. Effectively ending the night as they did most, with whispered declarations of love and shared fantasies of their favorite werewolves.

They're awoken the next morning by a loud pounding on their wooden door, "My Lady, pardon me waking you, but I imagine your guests will be arriving within the next few hours. I wouldn't want you to oversleep"

A soft smile spreads across the redhead's face, "Thank you, Y/n. We'll be out shortly. Do tell Sylvia not to fret"

"Yes, my Lady"

Once Wandas sure you're out of earshot, she turns to her lover, "I do wish that maybe just once, they'd have to come in here to wake us. I'd love to just pull them into the bed with us"

Nat chuckles, "Naughty girl"

"Not like that. Not this time at least." Wanda corrects, "Right now, I just want to cuddle. I want to feel their arms wrapped around us as we all share the bed"

"It does sound wonderful…" the Countess sighs

"But it's just a dream, isn't it?"

Natasha gives her a tight lipped smile, "I'm afraid so, dorogoy(darling). Now come, we need to get dressed for the banquet"

After trying on multiple dresses each, they both finally settle on their choices and proceed to get ready. Wanda is dressed in a maroon dress, with her hair done up in a low bun. A few red gemstones decorate her hair to tie into her gown while a delicate necklace adorns her neckline. It was a gift from Nat earlier in their relationship, a golden chain with a dangling centerpiece consisting of golden knots and rubies. Natasha is in a black dress, her hair done up in exquisite braids with small charms and gemstones decorating it. Around her neck she wears a golden necklace with multiple chains dangling from it, each adorned with a few rubies. At the very center hangs a larger pendant that dips quite low, sitting snugly in her cleavage.

By the time they arrive in the grand hall, the area has been completely set up by the Countesses staff. The large gathering table for the heads of houses sits up front, while a few others are spread around the vast area. Each is decorated with an ornate cloth and set with plates and goblets for meal time. A few large candles sit at the center of each table with wines on either side for their guests to freely drink from.

“My Lady” you greet, entering the room with a large tray of hors d'oeuvres

“Y/n” she greets, swiping two samples from your tray. She hands one to Wanda before biting into it, “Mmm, the kitchen staff have done an excellent job”

“They’ll be happy to hear that” you reply before making your way around the room to distribute the food to each table, “The main course should be ready about an hour after everyone's arrival, and James is tending to the humans chosen for tonight. But he’ll be joining us soon”

“Perfect, thank you”

With your task done, you can finally focus on them, which allows you to fully take in their appearance. And the words came out of your mouth before you even realized you were saying them, “Wow. The two of you look incredible”

Both women smile, which helps to calm your nerves of overstepping a boundary. And if you didn’t know better, you’d swear a hint of pink was now visible on their cheeks, but vampires didn’t blush, right? And if they did, it certainly wouldn’t be due to a compliment from a lowly werewolf

“Thank you, Y/n” Wanda says, pulling you from your thoughts, “You look great tonight too”

“You really think so?” you ask, glancing down at your outfit

The Countess had gotten you and James formal attire a while back for situations like this, because every other house just had its wolves show up in a regular outfit, which she admits she did as well. Until she overheard a group of wolves talking about how ostracized they felt at events and gatherings, and she wanted you both to feel included. But she and Wanda had yet to actually see you wear them.

“Absolutely, you look quite dashing” Natasha quickly condoms

You smiles shyly, “Thank you, my Lady, and you as well, Lady Maximoff”

Before either woman can continue the conversation, James arrives carrying an ornate dagger in its sheath, “My Lady, the humans are all properly secure and are all still in perfect condition for this evening.”

“Thank you James” she replies, “Go ahead and set that by my seat”

“Of course”

As he moves to do as he's told, both women appreciate the way he looks in his new uniform as well. You can’t help but notice them doing this, and you find yourself wondering if they had been looking at you with that same amount of interest. The idea that they could have has your mind swimming with thoughts on what that could mean.

“James, you look good in your suit too” Wanda finally offers up

He smiles, “Thank you Lady Maximoff, I tried to clean up nicely for this evening”

“And you did a wonderful job. You both did” the Countess assures, watching fondly as the two of continue to carry out your duties

A few hours later and the banquet is in full swing. Many of the Countesses' friends and acquaintances are in attendance, bringing along a handful of their own guards or a couple of their werewolves to ensure the safety of themselves both during travel and here in the Countesses castle. The grand hall was quite full due to this, and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t put you a bit on edge.

You knew your Countess didn’t necessarily trust everyone she invited, but had to do it to keep the peace among the elder vampires and their houses. Meaning that someone here could easily be at odds with her, and with a handful of guards at their disposal they could cause a disturbance and multiple injuries if they chose to do so. Not to mention how easily someone with ill intentions could slip in and remain hidden in a crowd this large.

“You alright?” James asks, coming to stand beside you, his hand caresses your shoulder gently to hopefully ease some tension away from you

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just….I don’t know, something seems off. Like there's an unnecessary heaviness in the air” you explain, eyeing the room suspiciously

He nods, “Yeah, I feel it too. Might just be our nerves, or it might be something, so lets stay on our toes just to be sure”

You agree and the two of you do your best to not stray far from the main table for the next hour, wanting to ensure the safety of both your Countess and her girlfriend. If one of you had to do something or got called to have a conversation, the other made sure to not stray. And thankfully, so far, everything has been going well.

“You know, if Lord Pyms fledgling isn’t careful with how he holds the elders daughter while dancing with her, we might have to step in to make sure Scott doesn’t lose his hands.”

You glance over and notice Scotts hand dangerously low on Hopes back and catch the glare the older man is sending the two as they remain oblivious, “Oh, I would hate to be on the receiving end of a look like that. He's absolutely going to get a reprimand the entire way home tonight”

“Guarantee it.” another voice replies, causing both of you to look in its direction.

“Carol, glad you're here”. It's nice to see you. you happily greet, having not seen the blonde werewolf in some time

“You too, Y/n” she says with a smile, turning to look at your partner, “And you as well James.”

“Hi Carol. Maria here too?”

She nods, “Of course she is, Count Fury wouldn’t go anywhere without both of us. Ah, there she is now”

“Hey guys” the raven haired werewolf greets, and her mate happily kisses her cheek, “How are the two of you?”

“We’re well” James replies, linking his fingers with yours, “How about the two of you?”

“We’re good too” Carol replies, pausing to look at you, “Have the two of you been allowed to find an Omega yet?”

You swallow and glance at James, unsure of what to say. Because packs worked a certain way, and that's essentially what a group of guards under a vampire's service was, a very small pack. Alphas were in charge, generally more offensive in actions, and were the ones responsible for breeding. And Omegas, who were still an equal threat despite generally being more defensive, and the ones that would carry any children. And due to you being in the service of vampires, you’d have to get their permission before finding mates and expanding your pack. Which, as Alphas, you and James had a big say in.

And it's not like your Countess had forbid you from looking for an Omega, but it's not like you had asked either. Whether that was due to the two of you being content without more of a pack, or due to the two of you being infatuated with the two vampires was another matter. One that you couldn’t admit to.

“Uh, well, we haven’t really brought it up to anyone yet” James admits, causing the two to share a look that you have a bad feeling about

Back up at the main table the Countess sighs as Lord Rogers continues to drone on about something that not only happened thousands of years ago, but that he retold at every gathering. Wanda gives her hand a reassuring squeeze, and she turns to find the brunette rolling her eyes. She chuckles lightly at the action, until Count Fury sits down beside her

“Countess Romanoff, such a lovely banquet so far. Though, personally I would have gone for whiskey instead of wine”

She smiles, “Count Fury, I’m glad you could join us this time. I can have a servant get you some whiskey if you’d like”

“I’d appreciate that”

She quickly signals for Sylvia, who is just as quick to appear, “Please bring out one of our finest whiskies and a glass for the Count here”

She nods and does as told. He takes his time pouring a glass sampling it. Once satisfied with it he fills the glass entirely before refocusing on conversation, “Seems my Omega wolves have taken a liking to your Alpha ones”

Her eyes immediately snap up, trying to find you and James in the crowd, and once she does she hates what she sees. Carol is standing mere inches from you with her hand resting along your bicep while Maria stands inches away from James, brushing a long stand of loose hair back behind his ear.

Her jaw clenches as she watches neither of you do anything about their close proximity, and has half a mind to let Wanda go over there and sort things out. But she can’t afford to have a scene caused due her her affections for the two of you

“The bitches will be in their heat soon, if you're looking to let your wolves have a bit of fun, I’m sure we could strike a deal”

Her stomach sinks at the very clear implication, and based on how quickly she sees Wanda turn her head from the two of you back to her, she knows her girlfriend felt the same dread

“I can assure you that they both come from good backgrounds genetically. And they've never laid with any Alphas before, your wolves would be the first, and presumably last.”

“No thank you”

He raised a brow, apparently surprised,“Are you certain? They seem like a good match.”

“She said no” Wanda interjects, practically ready to go shove the mans wolves away from you and James

Nat raises her hand to signal her girlfriend to contain herself, “The offer is very generous, but I must decline. I’m afraid that my wolves have yet to show interest in such a thing”

“A little push surely wouldn’t hurt matters, but if you are sure in your decision then there's nothing I can do about it”

“No, there isn’t” she affirms, signaling for her servants to bring out the humans. Her anger needed to be taken out on something, and this would also allow her to temper her hunger

A row of chained nude men and women are led into the room and brought before the main table, prompting the Countess to stand and grab the ornate dagger. She makes her way to the first person and smirks, “This won’t be quick”

Before he can even register it, the dagger is brought across his neck and he slumps backward as blood begins to pour from the wound, prompting the remaining humans to let out noises of shock and disdain. You and your mate can only stare in awe at her brutal efficiency.

“Who would like a taste?” she offers, beginning to take goblets shoved her way to fill

You and James watch on as your Countess helps fill chalices for those that approach her, but suddenly a sharp movement to your left catches your attention. You turn to find a group of four men attempting to approach her, but something is off with them. They seem determined, focused. That's when you spot their gear, strategically hidden within their cloaks. Miniature crossbows and blades.

“James, we need to move. Now!” Your stern tone immediately has his attention and he turns in time to catch you shifting into your werewolf form.

You cause a bit of a commotion as you turn, pushing others down or shoving them away as your size increases and black fur begins to cover your body. People quickly make room for you, effectively halting the men you would soon be after in their tracks, as they are cut off or bumped into.

Seeing you transform, Wanda is on her feet at once, “Y/n?”

Nats eyes move to you then, and her brows furrowed in confusion as she sees you in your werewolf form standing there on your hindlegs, towering over everyone. She only becomes more concerned when your lip curls back in a snarl and a deep growl emanates from your chest.

“Hey! Control your mutt!” someone, who is quite obviously a vampire shouts, and a good amount of others begin to murmur in agreement

But it’s then James sees them too, as they all turn to lock eyes with you, “Go, I’m right behind you.”

You lunge through the crowd, causing a surprised gasp of indignation to leave the vampires, who somehow still haven’t managed to sniff out the humans in their midst. But the roar-like sound that leaves you as your ears pin back quickly has them fleeing the area of whatever you have perceived as a threat. You land a few feet in front of the small group, and the room is quickly being cleared of all other guests and guards aside from those at the main table, effectively plugging up the rooms entryways and stopping more of the Countesses guards from rushing in

“We ain't here for you!” the one shouts, “Move outta the way and I’ll reward you with your freedom!”

Your growl at them and bare your teeth, obviously not swayed by such a thing, afterall Natasha was good to you. She fed you, clothed you, even let you have a room, and you'd never known what it was like to be on a chain or to be whipped. No, you had it good here, the best as far as werewolf standards could go. Plus, you were kinda hopelessly in love with her and her girlfriend, so to you and James, this was freedom.

You stalk forward a few paces, and they all finally reveal their weapons, aiming them at you. Both Natasha and Wanda can feel their own lips curling back in snarls, showing off their fangs. Neither can tell though if it's due to the anger at the brazen attack or their protectiveness for you however.

“We just want Romanoffs head” another one of them declares, chuckling, “It’s gonna look real nice on a pick in the center of town”

It would seem that James wasn’t a fan of that idea either, because in only a few seconds he's shifted into his werewolf form as well and circles around to the groups one side. They seem a bit shocked by his telltale white fur, no doubt connecting it to the legends that run rampant of when he was younger and kill crazy under the service of another vampire named Vasily Karpov.

“Certainly you recognize the white wolf as being the one your kind calls the Winter soldier” Natasha states, venom clear in her tone, “And as you can see, he is not alone. Surrender and I might spare these citizens their lives”

A third man shakes his head, “We don’t make deals. We’re leaving here with your head”

“You won’t be leaving at all”

Her comment is as good as a command, and you surge forward with a roar. The recognizable sound of a crossbow firing can be heard only seconds before your teeth are tearing into the soft flesh of the man's neck, and the metallic smell of blood fills the air.

Upon seeing this, two of the men attempt to scramble away, but James moves after them. He jumps on the first one, sinking his claws into his back as he bites down on the man's shoulder. He yells out a strangled cry for help before his neck is snapped by a large paw. The other man looks on in sheer horror as he frees his blade, it shakes in his hold but he's determined to not die without landing a blow

“Come on then, come get some!”

He lets out a growl that sounds rather like an amused chuckle before striking, tearing open the man's leg with his razor sharp claws. The man yells as he collapses, and he wildly swings his knife, catching your mate with the blade. It slides across his fur covered forearm leaving a small gash and terrible burning sensation in its wake. He quickly swats the blade from the man's grasp, breaking his wrist in the process before getting right up in his face.

He stares him down as he slowly bleeds out, having had his artery severed by claws not too long ago, but his attention quickly switches to you when the smell of your blood hits his nostrils…

The man that had stayed near you instead of running had watched on in disgust as you ripped away a part of his friend's windpipe before dropping his body. And he knew as soon as your eyes locked onto him that he was next. He decides to be brave as you walk forward, and he fires another bolt into you. Unlike the earlier one that lodged itself in your shoulder, this one hits your abdomen, causing an involuntary whine to leave you as blood drips down to the stone floor. But you don’t allow this to slow you down, and you rush him before he has a chance to reload. He screams as your claws tear into him, ripping open his abdomen and spilling his guts.

But before you can finish him off, the pain sets in, and it's quite clear even in your animalistic state that the tips of the bolts had been silver. You recoil from him, letting out another whine as your paw wraps around the arrow in your shoulder, and you yank it out with all your might.

The pain nearly has you on all fours at this point, and James quickly rushes to you. His head rests in the crook of your neck as his tongue laps at your shoulder injury. You whine again, almost collapsing as the silver rushes through your bloodstream and Wanda finds she can’t hold back anymore

She rushes over and carefully runs her hand through the black fur of your uninjured shoulder. Your head turns to her, and she swears she sees your eyes light up as you take in her presence. She watches as you sway, clearly weakened by this attack and she helps you lean into her. Though smaller in size, vampires are amazingly strong and she has no issues helping keep you upright. As she does so, the last of the crowd clears from the doorways, and the Countesses vampire guards make their way into the room.

“It's about time!” she shouts, trying to keep her worry for you under wraps, “Get the elders out of here and safely to their carriages, and put these humans back in the dungeons”

“But, my Lady- ”

“Go! My wolves took care of the threat and now the elders would like to be in their own castles, see that they at least get safely out of mine!”

The nod, “Of course. At once”

As soon as the room is empty, she rushes to join Wanda at your side, “How bad is it?”

“She can hardly stand Tasha, I think it was silver” she admits, pulling away from your now human form

The Countess frowns, knowing you must be really weak to allow that to happen just now. In all the years of knowing you, she's never seen you become human again in front of them, likely due to your nakedness. She rubs the fur of James shoulder to gain his attention, and he looks over at her

“Can you carry her to our room?”

Though confused, he nods and scoops you up into his arms. It agitates his own injury slightly, and he winces, but he powers through it easily.

“Set her on the bed” Wanda tells him, and he does as he's told. Only he refuses to move away from you

Natasha reaches up to rub his muzzle, “I know you're scared right now, but please James, I need you to step back so I can help her”

His eyes move from her, to you and he takes a few hesitant steps to the side, giving her enough room to maneuver around you. There's still a bolt lodged in your abdomen that is likely causing an extreme amount of pain as well as letting silver remain inside you, but she can’t remove it. Not until she deals with your shoulder wound that's bleeding profusely

“Just hang on, Y/n” she whispers, grabbing the cloth Wanda hands her. She presses it into the wound, causing you to whimper, “I know, I’m sorry.”

Wanda hands her a blade then, and James watches in awe as the Countess slices open her own wrist, letting her own blood pour out. He knows she intends to offer it to you, as a vampire's blood has healing properties. But he also knows that this is completely unheard of. He's never known a vampire to allow a wolf in their bed like this, and he certainly knows that none have ever let themselves be fed off of by a wolf. He knew Natasha was a kind vampire to werewolves, much kinder than most, but still he can’t help but think that something different is going on here.

“Y/n, I need you to drink, okay? Please.”

You weakly take the wrist she has offered you, attaching your lips to her soft flesh and begin to let the coppery flavor of her blood wash over your tongue.

To your surprise, you immediately start to feel its effects as the pain in your shoulder numbs. And you're fairly certain you can feel the wound trying to close itself, something your healing factor normally wouldn't help with when silver was involved. She moves the cloth away with her free hand, and sure enough it's only a small injury now.

"Okay, I'm going to pull this one out now" she says, gesturing to the bolt in your belly, "It's going to hurt"

You nod and she pulls, causing you to grimace around her wrist. And honestly if she wasn't so worried about you, she would have been going insane over the feeling of your lips and teeth on her skin

"That's it, keep drinking" she tells you, turning to look at her girlfriend, "Wanda, James is hurt too, let him drink from you"

The brunette picks up the knife and holds it to her wrist before looking up at the looming white werewolf, "You can shift back if you'd like, unless you're more comfortable like that"

His head tilts to the side like some confused dog as he thinks on it, before deciding to shift back. Wanda watches in amazement as he turns back into the man she's familiar with

"There we go" she says with a smile, but before she can cut herself his hand in hers stops her

"You don't have to. I appreciate it, and I appreciate you, my Lady, helping Y/n. But my injury isn't in a vital area. You don't need to"

"James, Natasha helped Y/n because she cares. Deeply. As do I. And we feel the same about you. I don't care if it's not fatal or that it will eventually heal. I can help you not to hurt now, so I'm going to " she explains, effectively causing both his heart and yours to race

"Okay"

Wanda slices herself as soon as he lets go and gives him her wrist, "Now drink"

As he does as he's told, Nat removes her wrist from your mouth as she looks you over. She tries not to let her eyes wander, only intending to make sure your injuries are closed, but when she sees your v line and happy trail she can't help but glance further down. She bites the inside of her lip to hold back a groan, because even soft you're bigger than she's ever had the pleasure of taking. But your voice pulls her eyes and attention away

"Thank you. You didn't have to save me"

"Of course I did" her eyes soften as she looks at you, and you swear you're dreaming when her hand cups the side of your face, "I couldn't let you die. Besides, you saved me tonight too"

You can't help but be confused, "But that's my duty to you as your guard. You…you don't have that duty"

"I don't. But Wanda's right, I care about you and about James far more than a Countess should. And I have felt this way for a very long time. As has Wanda" she explains, leaning closer, “And I think, the two of you feel the same way”

“We do” you admit, your heart fluttering as you get lost in her intense gaze

She smiles, “Good, then you won’t mind me doing this”

She leans in and captures your lips with her own, and you move your hand to cup the back of her head to ensure she stays there. Her lips are so plush, and they fit perfectly against your own. It’s better than you ever imagined, and when her tongue prods your lip for entrance, you eagerly allow it. You then wrap your arms around her waist to pull her even closer, causing her to let out a soft moan. The scene practically has James’s jaw hanging open

“Why let them have all the fun?” Wanda says, bringing him out of his daze and offering him her hand now that he's done drinking from her

He swiftly takes it and she leads him to the other side of the bed. Before she can say or do anything however, his hands grasp her hips and pull her against him. She lets out a small sound of surprise before he leans in, pressing his lips against hers in an awaited kiss. Without realizing it, he leans her backwards, letting her come to rest on the mattress below.

When all four of you finally pull away from each other, James helps Wanda out of her dress and jewels while you do the same with the redhead above you. With all four of you finally able to see each other fully, you each silently study the other. Each of you intends to take in every freckle and scar, committing them to memory before giving in and worshiping each other.

Natasha makes the first move, smirking at you seductively before effortlessly flipping your positions. With you now on top of her she guides your hands to her body, “Make me feel good, baby”

Your hands begin to caress her sides, slowly making their way up to her chest while your mouth kisses along her jawline. When your hands finally cup her breasts, your mouth has moved to her collarbone, where you leave a few of your own marks beside some of Wanda's older ones. The Countess shudders in anticipation as her core throbs, spilling her essence to the bedsheets below.

Beside you, James does similarly. His hands squeeze the brunette's tits while his mouth trails the valley between them, leaving kisses in his wake. Wanda squirms beneath him, a flushed mess as she feels her arousal drip between her thighs. She's honestly surprised by her girlfriend's patience, as hers has run out.

“James” she calls out, her voice a bit raspier than usual. His eyes glance up at her but his mouth never leaves her chest, "I need you lower"

He eagerly obliges and slides himself further down pressing gentle kisses against her bare stomach before settling before her mound. His eyes darken as he sees how wet she already is, and his tongue darts out to taste her.

“Ooh” she moans as his tongue gently parts her folds and enters her awaiting hole. He swirls the muscle around before pulling back to suck on her clit, causing her to clench around nothing, “Feels so good, baby”

He hums at the praise, causing her to roll her hips against him as she seeks out more pleasure. He obliges by pushing his tongue back inside her, letting her walls squeeze him as his nose brushes against her bundle of nerves.

Hearing her girlfriend moan beside her has Natasha eager for the same treatment. But she needs not wait long, as you're already busy marking up her plush thighs.

“Y/n…” she sighs as you test her patience, so you finally give into both of your desires

You practically dive in, attaching your lips to her clint instantly, earning yourself a loud moan from the woman. She quickly brings one her hands to tangle in your hair to hold you close as the other hand twists up the sheets

“Fuck….just like that” she encourages, scratching lightly at your scalp, “Good girl”

Her juices drip down your chin as you slip your tongue inside her, causing more sounds of pleasure to come from her. They mix with Wandas as you both work on getting them to come undone.

It’s not long before both vampires are writhing, their muscles tightening as they begin to reach the peak of their bliss. You and James increase the pace of your mouth's movements as you both hold down their thighs to avoid being crushed.

“Fuck!” Wanda shouts as she treats your mate to a gush of her cum, which he happily swallows

The sounds of her girlfriend coupled with your motions is enough to have Nat falling over the edge as well, “Oh god!”

Her grip on your hair tightens as you continue your movements for a bit, until she slumps back against the bed. Though neither of you want to, you both pull away, not wanting to overstimulate either woman. They both look at you and JAmes through hooded eyes, clearly still blissed out as smiles grace their features

You and your mate share a similar smile as you glance at each other, clearly forming an unspoken plan with each other. This plan is put in motion quickly as the two of you trade places on the bed, allowing you to each slide between the legs of the other woman you’ve yet to please, and taste.

You effortlessly wrap your arms around Wanda's thighs and pull her close to you, making her moan deeply as your lips make contact with her still sensitive pussy. Natasha makes a similar sound as James’ tongue slides inside her. You both work at the same pace as before, making both women shudder as their second orgasms quickly approach. Wanda's hand instinctively reaches out to grab her girlfriend's hand, and they both shout out your names as they cum again. You both help work them through it before pulling away to let them calm down.

It takes them a moment to regain their composure, but once they do, Natasha is sure to praise you both, “They did so good for us, didn't they detka(baby)?”

“They sure did. Took such good care of us” Wanda agrees, reaching down to affectionately stroke your cheek

Natasha hums in agreement, “I think it's time to take care of them, don’t you agree?”

“Oh yes”

You and James watch them with anticipation as they stand from the bed, gesturing at where they once were laying. You quickly understand the implication and both move up the mattress to take their places. They both eye you hungrily as they realize you're both hard, and both leaking precum.

Natasha moves to straddle James, reaching down to grab his cock. She gently wraps her fingers around it, causing him to moan as she jerks him off. His head leans back against the pillows as she presses his tip against her entrance, and she then moans as he slips inside. She slowly sinks down, bracing herself with her hands on his chest as he bottoms out inside her

“Fuck…” he whimpers as his hands move to her hips, “You feel so good”

She smiles down at him, “Mmm, so do you. Filling me so well.”

As she begins to rock her hips, Wanda makes her way to you, straddling your lap with a confident smirk. She strokes your cock as she lines herself up with you, and you both moan in unison as she begins to sink down on you. Your hands cup her breasts in effort to add to her pleasure as hers rest against your abdomen, and she whimpers as stills against your hips

“So big” she mutters, not used to anything other than Natashas fingers inside her

With your ego boosted you smile up at her with a cocky grin, “You think we’re big now, you should see us in our other form”

The thought alone has them both clenching around you, causing both you and James to moan as their movements increase in speed. An your mate glances over at you with a knowing look

“I think they like the sound of that” you tease, only to be shut up by the brunettes lips on your own

“Damn right we do” Natasha admits, still eagerly riding James’ cock, “After Wans and I make you two see stars, we want you wolf forms to claim us. You don’t need Omegas now that you have us.”

James grunts at her words and tightens his on her hips, she's almost sure it’ll bruise and that excites her, “Does that sound good, handsome? Does the idea of knocking us up excite you?”

“Yes…” he breathes out as his cock twitches inside her, “We’ve never wanted Omegas, only the two of you”

Wanda pulls away from you, looking into your eyes as she continues her hips movements, “Yeah?”

“Yeah” you assure, wrapping an arm around her waist, “All we ever thought about was you two”

At your confession, Natasha leans over and connects her lips to James’ while the brunette on top of you cups your face. Even without words, it's clear the sentiment is the same for the two of them. Besides each other, all they thought of was the two of you. And that paired with they way they both still ride you, neither of you will last much longer.

“Fuck…Wanda, I’m gonna cum” you grit out, trying to hold yourself back until you know she's close as well

She moans at your words and her walls tighten around you, “Go on baby, cum in me”

With her permission you unload inside of her, sending her over the edge directly after you. You hold her close as you thrust your hips upward, helping her ride through her orgasm.

Beside you, Natasha pants, quickly approaching her own climax, “Thats it, being such a good boy for me. Keep going, I’m so close”

He nods in understanding, “Me too. God…I’m gonna fill you up”

Natasha moans loudly, cumming all over his cock at his words, but his hands continue to guide her in her movements until he spills inside her. She practically collapses against him once he's finished, and he runs a soothing hand through her hair.

A few minutes pass before the four of you have caught your breath, but once you have, you look over at the redhead resting against your mate, “Did you mean what you said? About our wolf forms?”

She reaches out to caress her girlfriends back, who still lays on your chest, before answering, “Yes. We want you both in every way we can have you. Right, dorogoy(darling)?”

“Right” she answers, kissing your chest, “Please Y/n?”

James looks over at you, “Come on, love. If they want to be ours, who are we to deny them that?”

You nod, “You're right”

The two of you carefully move the two girls off of you as you stand, and once they’re situated you both make your way to the foot of the bed. James gently grabs your waist and pulls you against him before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. You eagerly lean into it and wrap your arms around his neck to keep him close for a moment

After the two of you break apart you walk away from the bed a bit to ensure there's enough space before shifting forms. The two vampires watch in awe as you both transform, and their jaws nearly drop as they take in the size of your still erect cocks.

You both walk over to the bed, eyeing them as if they were prey. Which, in a way, they were. Just not the kind to be attacked or eaten, but the kind to be claimed. You lick your maw as you climb above the Countess, and she reaches out to stroke the fur covering your chest.

“Come on, baby. Use me.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth you reach out your large paws to flip her over, showing off her ass to you. She gets the idea and moves to be on all fours below you, and you eagerly bend over her. She can feel your throbbing member resting just against her folds and grinds back into you, showing how eager she is for you.

Seeing the position you have her girlfriend in, Wanda quickly moves to get in the same one, hoping to entice James to come to her faster. Her plan works and he moves to hover over her. He gently licks the back of her shoulder as he lines himself up with her and he pushes his tip against her pussy.

She moans loudly and pulls at the sheets as he pushes himself further inside her, stretching her open even further than she had been on your human cock earlier. He stills for a moment to let her adjust to the new size, only continuing to move once her breathing evened out. Now fully inside her, he lets out a possessive growl and drops a bit more of his body weight on top of her as he waits for you and Natasha to catch up.

Seeing how your mate has already mounted Wanda, you move your hips back slightly before moving them forward again and you slowly begin to slide into the woman beneath you. She moans and reaches out to grab ahold of one of your giant paws to help ground herself as you inch forward until you're all the way inside her and you thank her by softly licking her neck

“Please” Wanda whimpers, moving to look at James the best she can in her current position, “Please fuck me”

With a grunt he begins to move, slamming his hips into hers without little care for how rough his movements may be. His sole focus now is on his pleasure, and filling the brunette with his seed. His powerful thrusts have Wanda a mess beneath him, and all she can do is make sounds of pleasure as his cock pulses inside of her.

Below you, Natasha wiggles her hips in an attempt to entice you, “Come on Y/n, please”

You thrust your hips forward with a growl and move your paw to be on top of the hand that was once holding onto you as you start to pound into her. Noises similar to Wandas leave her as your movements never falter and she nearly screams in pleasure when you brush up against her cervix

“Oh god….oh god” Wanda mumbles, feeling her own arousal drip down her thighs as she approaches her third orgasm of the evening, “Don’t stop”

He grunts as he increases his pace, proving to her that he had no intention of doing such a thing. He can feel her walls tighten around him, which only spurs him on. He lowers his head next to hers, letting her hear him pant against her ear which proves to be enough to tip her over the edge

“James!” she shouts, and he nuzzles against her as she shakes but continues to fuck her, not planning on stopping until his knot is buried inside her.

Your hips slam into Natashas with a similar roughness, causing the redhead to whimper. She tries her best to force her hips back to meet your thrusts, intent on chasing her next orgasm that's oh so close. And all it takes to send her over is your other paw moving to grab at her chest

“Oh fuck! Y/n!” she yells as her walls squeeze you in a way nothing ever has before. But you don’t let up either, only thinking about locking your knot into place so you can fill her properly.

The two of you continue to rut into them with such force that has their arms nearly giving out, but neither cares too much as you both have their eyes rolling to the back of their heads and drool dripping down their chins. Neither has ever felt pleasure this intensely before, and they honestly aren't sure they ever want it to stop. But just as that thought crosses their minds they can feel themselves approaching their climax once again, and they are eager to be filled with potent werewolf cum.

“Please, please, please” Wanda begs, grasping the sheets so hard its a wonder they don’t tear, “Please knot me, please”

James grunts, a bit surprised at first that she knows enough about werewolf anatomy and breeding to know of a knot, but when he remembers their admittance of wanting this for a long time he gets the idea that they may have looked into it just to understand the two of you better. And that thought has his knot instantly growing. It slams into Wanda's pussy a few times, and feeling how big it is she nearly changes her mind, but with a final hard shove from him, it slips inside her

“Ooh god!” she moans as his hot cum practically pours inside her, sending her into her yet another orgasm

As Nat watches Wanda practically collapse from exhaustion and pleasure her excitement of being knotted by you nearly doubles and she does her best to turn her head to face you

“Please baby, I want your knot.” she whimpers, “I need it”

Her admittance has your knot growing, and she can’t help but moan as it slams against her. Then, without warning it slips inside fully and locks into place, and she swears she cums so hard she sees white as your seed seemingly endlessly pumps into her. She also practically collapses, so you and James both ease them into a prone position as you both gently lay on top of them, and without meaning to they both begin to drift off.

By the time they come back around, you and JAmes are human again, and are spooning them from behind. Large smiles envelope their faces as they realize that you both not only stayed but you had also cleaned them up a bit

“Ah, you're awake” James says from behind Wanda. She hums in acknowledgement but its NAtasha that speaks

“Hopefully not for long. Just wanted to check on the two of you”

“We’re fine, love” you assure, pressing a kiss to her still bare shoulder, “And we aren’t going anywhere”

“Besides, how much safer could the two of you be now that your guards sleep in the same bed as you” James teases, causing all of you to chuckle

“Promise you’ll be here?” Wanda mumbles, clearly only moments away from returning to slumber

James squeezes her a bit tighter as you answer, “We promise”

She give you a sleepy smile, “I love you all”

“Love you too detka(baby)” Nat replies before James and you answer in unison

“We love you too”

Nat smiles as her girlfriend closes her eyes, “I also love you both”

“And we love you too” you answer

“Indeed we do” James says, nearly drifting off to sleep himself

“Sleep now” Nat tells him, turning to look at you, “You as well.”

“Mkay” you admit with a yawn, pulling her even closer

And as the Countess feels the love and warmth of her three lovers around her, she knows that any risks that come with such a relationship, potential hybrid children and all, will be absolutely worth it if it means she gets to have this for the rest of time

681 notes · View notes

ozzgin · 4 months

Note

Does the asylum spider have a name by any chance and will his story have any romance in it?

The first part was very much intended as a budding romance, but I always seem to get caught up in the story and leave out a lot of interaction. Sorry about that 😭

I initially wanted to keep this ask for some extra, longer headcanons, but as I started writing today I realized a lot of the details would be covered in part 2. So instead I’ll just tell you a little bit about spider boy. I guess it still counts as headcanons, but less ample.

Yandere! Asylum Spider Character Info

Get to know the strange creature you found in the sewers.

[Main Story]

He does not have a name, and even if he did, it’s been too long for him to remember. He will gladly take any name you give him, so please do consider it. He hasn’t been spoken to in many, many years, so the idea of being called again - with a name you picked for him specifically - is enough to get him to drool in excitement.

Speaking of, the drooling is sadly unavoidable. He is very much aware it’s improper, but his muscles have atrophied enough that it is now out of his control. Additionally, the teeth curve outwards and so he can’t close his mouth fully. Hopefully you don’t find him disgusting.

The blindfold can be removed and he’s not entirely blind as you expected, but his eyes are no longer used to intense light. The pale orbs are quickly overstimulated if he tries to gaze outside. Therefore, he will keep it on most of the time. The darkness also makes him feel more secure. The only thing he does enjoy glancing at every now and then is, well, you. He was suspecting you’d be pretty and he certainly wasn’t wrong, so he is indeed very grateful to have been able to take in your face.

You can also loosen up the straight jacket and, with a little bit of exercise, he will be able to move his arms. It’s probably the thing he’s most enthusiastic about, because he can finally touch you. It will start terribly clumsy; you have to understand, he’s been deprived of most senses for an eternity. His bony fingers might accidentally pull too hard or suddenly twitch into your skin, but he’s doing his best to refine his motor skills. He can also return any hug you offer him, and you should expect him to demand it extremely often. He’s now addicted to the warmth of your body.

Unfortunately the legs can’t be saved. They always drag along, crooked and weak. He relies entirely on his spider appendages. (I know there’s some of you out there probably wondering about it and no, the lower body is not completely paralyzed. You know very well why it matters.)

Lastly, as you will see, he can practice his speech and will eventually be able to use words and short sentences. Saves you a lot of time, especially upstairs where his knowledge is vital for survival. On the other hand, he doesn’t have much to say. He doesn’t remember much from his past, and what he does remember he’d rather forget. So he prefers to listen to you and loves it when you tell him stories from your life.

While he is terrified of the upstairs, he will do his best to protect you and he definitely has the means to do so. He has a gland that allows his saliva to turn acidic, his bite is venomous and he can regurgitate a thick thread of web.

You might be able to tell, he is terribly clingy. To think someone would have pulled him out of his misery. He is forever indebted to you and will never, ever leave your side again.

#asylum spider #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #monster oc #yandere oc

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piastree · 5 months

Text

Take a Chance with Me | OP81

oscar piastri x reader (fc: huh yunjin)

— Part 1

Next Part

Summary : Y/n's mistakenly takes someone's drink at a party. Despite the initial embarrassment, they engage in light chit-chat and discover a sense of familiarity. Oscar introduces himself, and they exchange greetings, marking the beginning of a new chapter in their story.

Notes: hiii! this is my first writing, if there are any grammatical errors or some other mistakes i wanna apologize in advance. I hope you like it and have fun while reading this<3 lemme know if you like it thankyouuuu

Y/n chuckled when she remembered how embrassed it was when she took the wrong glass and sipped it like nothing was wrong. But she could feel the confused look from someone beside her. "I'm thinking you might have grabbed mine by mistake." She glanced to her side, wondering if the words she had just heard were indeed meant for her.

"Huh?" She finally turned to fully face that man. He chuckled at her puzzled expression, but eventually, with a raised eyebrow, he pointed to the glass she was holding. "Oh my goodness! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to take your drink." Her eyes widened in shock, and her heart raced as embarrassment flooded over her. He held back his laughter. "No worries. I can take another one," as he said, he cracked a grin like a friendly cat. His eyes squinted playfully, giving off a vibe that was both laid-back and amused. "Let me grab you another one." "No need for that, I-" Ignoring him, she sauntered away to fetch a new drink, intending to replace the one she had mistakenly taken from him earlier. It didn't take long for y/n to return. Once she returned, they engaged in light chit-chat, chatting about who invited them to the party. It wasn't until later that she realized the guy she'd been talking to looked kind of familiar. "So, which friend brought you here tonight?" she asked. "Oh, just through some mates, racing circles and all. What about you?" "Just here with a friend. By the way, you seem oddly familiar. Have we met before?" "I get that a lot. Maybe you've seen me on the street or something."

She just laughed, shrugged it off, and took another sip of her drink. At the same time, he shot her a cheeky smile, sneaking a few glances while she checked out the scene around her. After a bit, he decided to break the ice, "I'm Oscar, by the way."

"I'm y/n. Nice to meet you, Oscar."

With a cheerful smile, they exchanged a warm handshake. It marked the beginning of a new chapter in their story.

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, landonorris, mclaren and 365,288 others

oscarpiastri Wowee… that was a cool weekend 🧡

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user just calm down bro, it's your first season💀

user our starboy!! so proud🧡🧡

user what an incredible talent boyyy!

yourusername such a fake rookie

oscarpiastri i like to keep things low-key🤭

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user lmaooo

user your pace and overtakes are 1000/10 🔥👏🏻

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbff and 1,288 others

yourusername camera crumbs

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yourbff MYY GIRLLLL<3

user cutiesssss

oscarpiastri those flowers have nothing compared to u

yourusername lol you're making the flowers jealous, i'll let the garden know it needs an upgrade😂

user what oscar is doing here????

user did i miss something??

user OSCAR?!!?????? FLIRTING TO A GIRL???

yourusername chill guys he likes to joke around😂😂

user new wag alert!!

yourusername added a story

bring it home, boy!

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user wow??? what is this now??

landonorris where is the cheer for me??? i thought we were friends yourusername lol we are! yourusername goodluck lando! i'd love to see both of you on the podium<3

yourusername

tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, yourbff and 14,555 others

yourusername P2 and P3, boys!! Enjoy your moments. What a day to remember 🧡

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user CUTEE OUTFIT Y/N!!

user and now lando also here? who's she

user wow oscar put earmuffs on her??

user at this point i won't believe if they're just friends

landonorris oh now i'm your friend?? cool thanks

oscarpiastri stop overacting💀

yourusername should i post a whole photo dedication for you?😉

landonorris i'm not looking for trouble

user what is that mean landooo?? bcoz someone must be jealous?😂

user look at how oscar defending her lol

oscarpiastri you owe me a drawing of a four-leaf clover on my helmet

yourusername stay tuned for some top-notch artistry<3

user oscar indirectly said that y/n was his lucky charm!!

"Can't you stay for one more night?" Oscar asked. He walks over to y/n who is arranging her luggage a little hurriedly.

Y/n smiled before saying, "work can't wait. But I promise I'll come another day."

"Okay, i'll counting the days until you return."

She laughs, then stands up and pulls Oscar into her arms. "You're doing a good job. Keep going!"

"I'll miss you." He hugs her tighter, as if he's not willing to let her go.

"Me too."

They fall into a moment of silence, soaking in each other's warmth before having to go back to being apart for a period of time they don't know how long.

She never expect the party that night to lead her into a complicated situation, where she has to love someone who is out of her reach. Remembering how stupid she was that night for not recognizing Oscar right away when his face looked so familiar, and how Oscar didn't say anything until she finally realized.

"Oh! I have something for you."

She opens her bag and takes something out. A bracelet with a four-leaf clover. "I don't have the skill to draw, and I wouldn't risk making your helmet look ugly."

Oscar takes the bracelet and immediately puts it on. "I can't agree more. But it's more than enough," he replies mischievously while laughing. He is so happy to see the bracelet now neatly wrapped around his wrist. "Thank you."

"Your lucky charm when I'm not around."

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, yourbff and 16,581 others

yourusername life lately😴

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user syntax error babe my brain stopped working when i saw u

user i just can’t get enough of this hair omg

user me too! so gorgeous😭

yourbff red y/n is too legendary

comment liked by oscarpiastri

yourusername is this genuinely a compliment or a subtle jab?

yourbff lmaoo babe😭

oscarpiastri wish u were here

yourusername me too</3

user oh you are not with oscar rn :(

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user was it a chat with oscar?? bcoz YES SHE IS ON FIREEE

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc and 221,681 others

oscarpiastri A second reason to smile 😁🏆

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mclaren what a weekend!

user this man’s gonna be world champion one day🙌

comment liked by yourusername

user i refuse to believe you’re a rookie man

yourusername me too

user y/n camping on oscar's comment section

yourusername my driver of the day!❤️

oscarpiastri ❤️

user what's with the red heart???

user is it the soft launch? OMGGG

yourusername also congrats to lando!! proud of both of you🔥👏

landonorris thankyou, y/n! btw come to the race, someone is missing you

user man is so wHIPPED

yourusername p.s hope oscar recovered well after lying on the floor

comment liked by oscarpiastri

yourusername added a story

someone is smiling ear to ear @/oscarpiastri

yourbff lmaooo he looks so happy yourbff he's completely in love with you yourusername grateful is an understatement<3

landonorris his eyes speak love lol yourusername shut upp lando landonorris glad both of you finally opened up about your feelings yourusername thankyou 2 u❤️

user his emotions are written all over his face

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, logansargent, landonorris and 540,188 others

oscarpiastri thanks for mistakenly grabbing my drink. Grateful for every twist of fate that brought you into my life🍻❤️

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user spill the tea we want to know more about the storyy!!

user my oscar and yn cutie<3

user hope for your happiness, oscar and y/n!❤️

landonorris how long did it take you, mate?

yourusername felt like forever

oscarpiastri you have no idea

yourusername but it was worth the wait

user awww y/n🥺

oscarpiastri ❤️

yourusername thankyou for never telling me you are oscar piastri the mclaren driver of formula 1😒

user NOOOO SHE MUST BE SO CLUELESS

logansargent he is the worst

oscarpiastri u know i didn't mean to keep it a secret, babe

user THEY ARE SO CUTEEEE

yourusername

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yourusername love you always, Oz! May the four-leaf clovers always on us🍀❤️

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oscarpiastri love you too, always🍀❤️

comment liked by yourusername

thankyou for reading! don't hesitate to give me a feedback❤️

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri au #f1 fic #f1 fluff #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fluff #f1 smau #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

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cherrygukki · 1 year

Text

after last night (m)

➸ pairing: rich fuckboy! jungkook x f. reader ➸ word count: 4.3k ➸ genres: acquaintances to fwb, smut, unreciprocated love, mild angst if you squint, and a sprinkle of fluff ➸ summary: After last night, Jungkook doesn't know what to do. You got to tell him when he's gonna see you again before he drives himself crazy. ➸ warnings: alcohol consumption, cursing, protected sex, whiny jk, rough, making out in public for like a minute, grinding, lots of kissing, hickeys, dirty talk, praise kink, face sitting, cunnilingus, fingering, spitting (once), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, he's WHIPPED for reader's pussy, i almost forgot to say that jk also finishes early but that's okay he makes up for it🤭🤭 ➸ author's note: As what the title suggests, this short series (maybe) is inspired by After Last Night by Bruno Mars. I'm literally OBSESSED with this song so I couldn't help but write something dedicated to it. As always, enjoy reading!

Wishin' on a shootin' star, say a prayer for me

And hope it comes true

Jungkook can't help but heave a sigh, twirling the almost empty wine glass around in his hand while looking at the night sky with such loneliness in his eyes.

The sight above him is beautiful, but to him, there's nothing more beautiful than the image of your face in front of him right now. He craves you by his side, appreciating the view outside his window as you spend the most loving time in your lives.

So, when his eyes spot the phenomenal shooting star that swiftly passes through his home, his mind screams your name right away, praying to whoever's listening to him in the sky to have you here with him.

It's foolish, but he'll just about do anything to see you again, hoping that his wishes will eventually come true someday.

Throw my phone out the window, there's no player in me

Those days are through

When he said that he's willing to do anything for you, he meant it with every fiber of his being. Hence, it doesn't take Jungkook any second thought to pull his phone out of his pocket only to throw it out the window. He lets it fall freely from the high level of his penthouse without a care. Perhaps it's the alcohol seeping into his veins, putting him under the influence, but there still remains a part of him where he doesn't regret what he just did. After all, he only wants to prove you one thing by the end of the day —

He's more than willing to enter a new chapter in his life, and the title of that chapter is you.

You put it on me like I never felt before

That gushy, gushy good, girl, I want some more

While Jungkook continues to appreciate the mesmerizing city landscape beyond him, his mind couldn't help but drift off to the moment you met each other for the first time.

He had only intended to have a great time with his old friends during that highschool reunion of your batch. If only you hadn't attended that party like the gorgeous goddess you were to his eyes, then perhaps he wouldn't be so crazy like he is now.

Back then, Jungkook merely thought of you as the smart student who had a few admirers here and there, only ever getting the chance to talk with you every time you're paired up on a project, but he never thought of batting an eye towards your direction. However, the clearer view of your beauty in the present is in no doubt, indeed a present to him.

Without hesitation, he strikes up a conversation with you right away, leaving everyone else in the ditch as his entire attention was now directed on you, and you only.

It took hours for the party to end, thus it doesn't surprise you to see Jungkook impatient to get the both of you out of the venue, for you already knew where this night was about to end the moment he greeted you.

You haven't even gotten the opportunity to jump inside his car, but you're already making out on his hood like horny teenagers all over again. He kisses you with a spark of fire, spreading flames all over your body like a wildfire. You moan when he bites your bottom lip before pulling away, extending his warmth down to your exposed neck where he marks you like his personal treasure. You throw your head back in no shame whatsoever, disregarding the environment around you when you begin to grind your crotch against his thigh. The moans you let out our wanton, especially when he easily locates that sensitive spot on your neck to lick, suck, and bite on it that already has you reeling for the man.

You're certain there's a wet splotch in your underwear by now, already aroused from merely grinding away on Jungkook's thick thigh as well as him leaving dark spots all over your neck as if tomorrow will never come.

He slithers a tattooed hand beneath your dress to rub your clothed folds. You gasp loudly at the abrupt intrusion, letting him do whatever he desires at the moment while you relax at the sensational touches he leaves on you.

Whimpering, you grip tightly on his shoulder to urge him to go on. "Don't stop," you whine, "Please don't stop, fuck—"

"I won't, sweetheart." He licks at the fresh hickey he's just made while whispering. "I won't."

Before anyone could even catch up to what was going on, Jungkook hides the both of you from out in the open, hastily fishing his car keys from his pocket to unlock the Black Mercedes he's about to drag you in. He opens the backdoor, and soon enough, he's messily falling along with you on the leather seats where you continue to explore each other's bodies.

He locks the car again before hunching your dress around your waist to take a look at the sopping mess you've done with your panties, pushing them to the side when he finally gets to touch your bare pussy for the first time tonight.

Growling, he leans down to your ear only to send you a hot wave of shivers with the raspy whisper he lets out. "Gonna make you cum so hard tonight, sweetheart." He chuckles, "So fucking hard."

Jungkook wasn't expecting to receive exactly the same treatment he intends to give you tonight.

The moment you arrive at his penthouse, the two of you are already sticking to each other immediately like opposite poles of a magnet until you eventually navigate yourselves to the large couch in his living room. He settles you comfortably on his lap, hands traveling down to your clothed ass where he kneads them as you continue to lap each other out. You're the first one to pull away after a few more seconds, for he's already sucking the breath out of you with his plush lips alone.

You impatiently begin to unbutton his dress shirt, admiring the bulky figure that's hidden underneath the flimsy layer of fabric. He does the same to you, wrapping an arm around your back to unzip the tight outfit refraining his eyes from indulging in your gorgeous figure. The straps fall loosely around your shoulders, and soon enough, your dress is already messily hunched around your waist, exposing the entirety of your body to Jungkook's lust-hungry gaze.

By the time you get rid of his top, you don't hesitate to lean down and place kitten licks on his nipple. He quietly gasps at your bold move, resisting the temptation to have his eyes rolling back when you lick a fat stripe on his chest. He shivers underneath you, falling victim for your presence as he tightens the hold he has on your waist. Your pussy is gushing your arousal like a waterfall, and Jungkook doesn't fail to notice how desperate your whimpers get when you pick up the motion of your hips on his thigh.

Pulling away, you attack his lips ferociously, moaning oh-so wantonly that it has the tent in Jungkook's pants growing angrier by the minute. "I wanna ride your face."

"Fuck yeah, baby." Jungkook almost whines when you hastily settle yourself on his face, having your panties already ridden off earlier from the steamy car ride on the way home. You pant heavily, sensing his warm breath knocking right on your entrance, steadily aligning your core above his pillowy lips until he takes matters in his own hands — becoming more desirous for the sweet nectar leaking over him.

"Oh! Fuck, Jungkook—" You draw out a long mewl when he laps at your pussy like an oasis, leaving no drop of your juices out of his mouth as he dances his tongue around your sopping folds.

Nothing left could be heard in the spacious room aside from your lewd moans and the obscene noises of your wet pussy being eaten out by Jungkook.

You desperately grind on his face, searching for more friction, repeatedly nudging the tip of his nose with your clit which only has you throwing your head back in bliss.

Jungkook, on the other hand, feels more than euphoric seeing your fucked out expression from below. He wiggles his tongue in every spot he deemed fit to have you toppling near the edge. Your taste alone is enough to get him off, bucking his hips in the air to seek for a release himself. Swallowing every drop you offered him only has him going crazier by the second, only urging him to fuck you with his tongue this instant, and that's what he exactly did.

The abrupt intrusion of his tongue between your folds elicited a loud whimper from you. He fucks you with his tongue like how he would with his cock — messy and fast.

Breathy chants of his name and a messy mantra of moans and whimpers come tumbling off your tongue. You bounce on his face like the desperate one you were, chasing that orgasm that's merely boiling from deep within your core.

He simply couldn't get enough of your essence, akin to getting intoxicated by the best form of addiction in the world. He continues to lap on your dripping cunt as if he's the next one in line on a death row, moaning every now and then which sends vibrations reverberating up your spine. Your mind blacks out, and now the only thing you can think of is Jungkook's skilled and wet tongue bringing you to an intense orgasm.

You don't hold back from leaving your mouth ajar to spill out the most sinful, yet heavenly noises Jungkook has ever heard, provoking him to add up to your pleasure by encouraging you to swivel your hips around his face.

Your pending orgasm is peeking around the corner, and the knot that's about to blow up inside you is about to make a mess on Jungkook's swollen lips. "Fuck, Jungkook, I'm cumming—" you whine, thighs shaking profusely until the knot snaps.

Gasping, Jungkook doesn't leave any of your juices unwelcome, for he's greedily drinking your juices up in pure gluttony. Your pussy keeps gushing out new waves of your orgasm for Jungkook to consume, and he can never get sick of it. If anything, it leaves him wanting more of that gushy sweetness you provide him, never ever being stunned from the way you do it.

Sweet, sticky, thick and pretty

You changed the game

At this point, Jungkook wants nothing more than to shove his cock in the prettiest pussy he's seen in his life, similar to a messy abstract painting that always succeeds in enticing the people's eyes — that's how beautiful Jungkook saw you.

Slowly lifting your hips off his panting face, you finally take a glimpse for the first time on how fucked out he already seemed. His lips are absolutely smeared with your essence, and perhaps a few of it even landed on his chin and his nose. However, your appreciation session on the man's features are cut short when he rips open the condom hiding in his pocket, swiftly stripping himself off his pants until his dick is finally sprang out in the open; tall and leaking with pre-cum.

He rolls the condom around his shaft, and before you know it, he's already forcing you down on his lap where your soft walls gain contact with the tip of his cock.

"Gonna fuck your pretty little pussy with my cock, baby. You want that?"

You mewl in response, eagerly nodding as you visibly bite your lower lip. Spreading your slick all over his tip, you steadily sink yourself around his girth, eliciting a guttural groan between the two of you. For a moment, you can feel the wind knock out of your lungs from how full you felt. Your walls kept themselves snug around Jungkook's veiny shaft, and he swears, he's losing his composure faster by the second.

"Fuck," he lowly whimpers when you finally bottom out, large hands settling on your hips to slowly drag you up again. Your pussy already leaves a trail of dribbling slick down the length of his cock, and it definitely earns a hiss to come out between Jungkook's teeth.

He helps you in riding him, a lewd yelp falling off your pretty lips when your hips crash down on his thick thighs, causing his tip to kiss the top of your cervix inside. Soon enough, your pace becomes increasingly desperate, as what seemed to be mildly moderate a few seconds back turns to a merciless wrath of Jungkook's cock roughly fucking into your dripping cunt.

"Jungkook!" You cry his name in utter bliss before the weight of your head gives in, leaning on his shoulder for support as you unknowingly drool on the taut muscle. He growls animalistically, fucking you with full force and great speed which leaves the air humid, and the sound of skin slapping and wet squelches of your pussy fill the quiet space of his penthouse.

A staccato of breathy moans spill out from your lips like a waterfall. His cock was covered in your slick, shimmering in your thick arousal which only heightened Jungkook's stimulation.

"God, look at you—your cunt is drooling all over my cock, baby. Wettest pussy in the fucking world, shit—"

Your walls clench from his words, another wave of your juices gushing out from your pussy. No one else can make you hornier than the man fucking you right at this very moment. His brows are furrowed in concentration, mind unable to think of anything else aside from his cock rearranging your guts. He's practically pierced everywhere, and the fact that he has a full-sleeve tattoo covering the whole of his right arm only aids on to your arousal.

He catches you momentarily staring at him, and he only simpers at you. "Fuck, like what you see, baby?" The clench you do confirms your thought. "Yeah, I know you do, baby. Your cunt is so fucking wet for me, isn't it? Such a good fucking cunt, taking dick so obediently, yeah?"

"S-So good," you mewled on his shoulder, breathing becoming labored when his tip repeatedly nudges your sweet spot. The obscene noises increase in volume, which encourages Jungkook to remain consistent with his thrusts.

Everything feels messy and sticky down below where your arousal has certainly reached Jungkook's balls, covering them in white as some of it land on your ass where they clap in motion of his rough thrusts.

Jungkook swears to God that he's losing it every minute, feeling his climax build up faster than usual, too lost in the incredible sensation of your tight walls clinging onto his length for dear life. Oh, and was he extremely whipped for the way you keep creaming around the base of his cock as if you're marking him as your own. He tries to hold back the fighting orgasm bubbling within his gut, but you just had to keep him snug against your warm folds for one last time until he's eventually reaching his breaking point.

"Shit, baby, your cunt's so fucking good I think I'm gonna cum soon—" He draws out one last whine before he's filling up the thin latex material. He breathes heavily, knowing that he's never been the one to cum first during sex. Feeling his dick immediately soften, he pushes you off his cock and pulls the condom off his shaft, hastily flipping you around so he's the one on top of you this time. He grips your knees to force your legs wide, kneeling down so his face is directly in front of your dribbling cunt.

"You haven't cum yet, haven't you, angel?"

"N-No," you stutter, sensing the proximity of his face between your folds.

"Sad you didn't get to cum on my cock, but my fingers will do the trick for now."

Before you could even fully react to his statement, he's already plunging three long digits in your warm cunt, plunging them inside and out at a swift rate that has your eyes rolling to the back of your skull in an instant.

"Holy shit, pussy still so fucking tight even after getting split open with my cock." He bites his lip, pleased with the wet noises your cunt makes whenever he digs them deep within your cavern. You throw your head back as if you're floating on clouds, eyes giving in as you surrender to Jungkook's fingers finishing you off.

"Such a good girl," he coos, "taking my fingers like your pussy's made for them."

You can feel your high lingering in your lower abdomen, that familiar knot beginning to form and Jungkook detects it right away. You almost lost it when he began to increase the speed of his fingers, but what has you screaming in such a pornographic manner is his mouth sucking your clit ferociously.

He laps on your clit like a madman, desperate to reach your climax. Your legs begin to profusely shake, and your screams morph into pleasurable sobs that have Jungkook smiling against your heat. You're flooding more and more juices on his hand, his tongue aiding to your fast-approaching orgasm.

"Don't stop, don't stop, pleeeaasseeee, don't fucking stop!" You pant wildly as your hands fly to his soft locks, gripping on them for dear life to lock his mouth in place of your clit. Jungkook was absolutely shameless for loudly slurping on your wetness, flicking your clit with his tongue simultaneously which brought the cherry on top for your orgasm.

"So good, I'm cumming, shit—"

He temporarily pulls away from your cunt. "Go on and make a mess all over my face, pretty girl. You did so, so fucking well for me."

With that, he sucks on your clit for one last time before your vision fades to black. A large wave of your wetness gushes out of your pussy, forcing his fingers to pull out which has him aiming for your clit right away. He rapidly rubs your clit, groaning in satisfaction with the mess he caused.

"Damn, angel, you just fucking squirted all over me."

You're panting heavily, unable to register anything that Jungkook's saying to you, for the recent orgasm you experienced has just hit you in the head like a truck. Your body is still twitching due to the overstimulation, but Jungkook didn't seem to care at all.

Jungkook appreciates how your pussy appears to be more glossy from how much you squirted, licking his lips in temptation before leaning in to swipe a fat stripe of his tongue from the bottom of your folds to your gorging clit. You shiver from the overstimulation, taking the pleasure nonetheless.

How can you ever make him stop when this man is an absolute fucking sex god?

"Fuck, your pussy's so sweet, baby," he whines on your folds before proceeding to flick his tongue left and right at a rapid pace. Your eyes struggle to keep themselves open, for the only sensation you yearn to keep is his mouth working wonders on you. Your moans increase in both volume and pitch, and you swear the man eating you out like a whole buffet is about to pull another mind-boggling orgasm out of you.

He only adds on to your rapture when he inserts three of his slender digits inside you again. You gasp loudly, legs profusely spasming to the point where you can't keep them open anymore. You attempt to squeeze your thighs between Jungkook's face, which causes him to forcefully pry them open when he growls on your pussy.

"This cunt will be the fucking death of me, angel," he chuckles, planting a soft peck on your clit contrary to the merciless motion of his fingers. "Make a mess one more time for me, sweetheart, hm?"

"I-I can't," you sob, nails clawing on the fabric of the couch as you feel your climax flying to its peak. "Too much..!"

"You can and you fucking will," he growls again, and the vibrations felt on your heat is what triggers another mind-shattering orgasm to crash down on you. Your legs wail around from the strong intensity, but Jungkook held you still. His mouth remains unbothered when you spill your juices all over his lips, happily lapping up on your remains.

The overstimulation makes you shudder, and your cunt at this point is overly sensitive from the continuous motions of his wet tongue. "T-Too much." You use all of your remaining strength to push his head away, and you're thankful he did, only to land a wad of spit onto your sensitive cunt, anyway. He rubs the small bundle of nerves in slow, circular motions, which makes you whine.

"Jungkook, I really c-can't anymore," you whine, and he finally separates himself away from your cunt despite the addiction coursing in his veins. He leans down on your face to pull you in one last tender kiss. Your taste has definitely made its mark on Jungkook's lips, evident when he tangles his tongue with yours.

He's the first to pull away before things become more heated again, abruptly carrying you in the air with his taut arms to bring you to his bedroom. "You should look at yourself, pretty," he snickers, "You look fucking adorable in my arms like this."

You blush at his comment, shying yourself away from his gaze which Jungkook merely chuckled to. He brings you to his bedroom where he provides you with the most tender care you've experienced in your life, gently cleaning you up here and there with a wet tissue as well as giving you a generous donation with one of his shirts to keep you warm.

Jungkook was never a big fan of aftercare, preferring to keep things casual by letting whoever he hooked up with leave right away. However, seeing you laying there, exhausted from everything, gave him this strong urge to cradle you in his arms in an instant, which makes him exactly do that.

In tangled sheets, you and Jungkook sleep through the night with your limbs intertwining one another. He couldn't exactly place the blossoming sensation in his chest, but he decides to brush it off, thinking it'll all wither away in the morning.

Boy, was he wrong.

After last night

After last night, I think I'm in love with you

The next day, Jungkook wakes up next to the large empty space of his bed. At first, he could hardly remember everything that occurred last night, until the memories all came crashing down at him at once when the image of your face appeared in his brain.

His heart hammers the moment he thought about the long, yet ephemeral night he spent with you. His first instinct is to get up from bed and call out your name, thinking you're still somewhere within his residence.

"___?" He's been chanting your name like a broken toy, searching for every part of his penthouse. To no avail, though, it seems you have left Jungkook alone without bidding him a proper farewell. The only trace of you he has is the small note you wrote placed on top of the counter. It merely stated about you leaving extra early for personal reasons, saying you enjoyed the night with him nonetheless.

However, Jungkook feels himself pouting when you didn't bother leaving a number for him nor any sort of connection that'll have him talk to you again. He reminisces about the valuable time he cherished with you last night, remembering even the smallest details of you. His favorite feature of yours is definitely your smile, following the sound of your giggles echoing through his ears. You possess the plumpest lips that are worth dying for, and definitely the belle of the party last night.

To top it all off, you also had the sweetest pussy he's ever laid his hands on.

He didn't realize that he's been staring into empty space for the past few minutes, immediately blinking away any thoughts of you before deciding to proceed with his daily routine.

A lingering sensation of longing for you still remains in his chest, though. And it's slowly driving him to madness.

After last night, he's probably in love with you for all he knows.

Woke up and I can't get you out of my head

After last night, I don't know what to do

Jungkook has never seen himself be this crazy for a woman, let alone it being after a supposed one night stand.

Did you perhaps cast a hex on him? Your face haunts him even during the middle of daylight. You're like an addiction he can't get rid of no matter how hard he tries. You come to him like you were meant for him, and he can't help but be simultaneously overwhelmed and amused from how much he's thinking about you.

He can't think straight from how much you've been conquering his mind throughout the day, spacing out every minute and so to cling onto the last traces of you by solely remembering you.

Jeon Jungkook is absolutely head over heels for you.

(Baby, you've got to tell me)

When I'm gon' see you again

On the couch is Jungkook endlessly scrolling through his phone, checking out every social media app possible to possibly find you and gain contact with you for the sake of his remaining sanity. It seems like fate has been on the wrong side with him when he's unable to find a hint of you no matter how thorough he searches.

He can only sigh when his hope begins to plummet. Perhaps you were only meant to be another mere one night stand that'll add on to Jungkook's promiscuous history and nothing more. After all, you were aware from the very beginning that a man like Jungkook can't be trusted, thus making you leave before you could possibly get attached to the man.

However, after last night, he doesn't bat a single eye to any other woman whenever he's out with his friends.

After last night, you're all that takes up most of Jungkook's mind.

After last night, he began doing the craziest shit all because of you.

After last night, Jungkook only clings onto one question for the following weeks of his life: When is he going to see you again?

after last night (two)

#bts #bts smut #bangtan #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jjk imagines #jjk fluff #fanfic

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songmingisthighs · 1 year

Text

Pretty Cute

group : ateez

pairing : yunho × reader

genre : smut

word count : 3.4 k

warning : mdni, explicit smut, yunho and (y/n)'s kind of a perv, mutual pining, cnc ((y/n)'s a horny drunk), somnophilia, sex (not piv; fingering), slight hint of size kink?

a/n : happy late LATE yuyu day <3 i wrote this impulsively and i was gonna post it on yunho's birthday but things got in the way and suddenly it felt weird writing smut in my state. but hey, i hope this makes up for my absence!

buy me coffee ?

Both you and Yunho came home giggling through the door, courtesy of the alcohol you both drank earlier. Your steps were wobbly and staggered as you tried walking into your apartment with your best friend in tow, trying to catch up with you. Seeing this, Yunho giggled and pulled you by your shoulders so you could lean on him slightly as you both managed to take your shoes off sagely and proceed further into the apartment. "Okay, we gotta be careful because you're stumbling, mumbling, grumbling, tumbling, schcumbling..." Yunho's giggle made you giggle as well, thinking that he sounded both ridiculous and absolutely hilarious for some reason. But you just let him stick by you because you love his presence and even more so when you were drunk.

It had been a custom for Yunho to be very touchy with you both in public and in private as he was your teddy retriever and you were his... (y/n). Even earlier at the bar, you enjoyed the feeling of him with a hand behind you resting on the bar as his body towered over you, covering you from most of the people at the club. You sipped your vodka cranberry happily which gave you warmth from the inside while he provided you with warmth from the outside, your exposed legs didn't feel as exposed even after Wooyoung made a vaguely inappropriate comment about them. He might be one of your best friends but he was still a boneheaded idiot that you love so much.

People thought that it was weird how touchy and open you were to each other, some even thinking that you both had dated. Fact is, you wouldn't deny him if he asked you out, but you didn't know if he felt that way about you. Sure, he was nice to you, but so was he to everyone else. What makes you so special? Other than the occasional (very freaking often) compliments and remarks about how he would be so lucky if he was able to call you his wherever you show him your outfits or your accomplishments, you were doubtful that he would see you in a romantic way.

Plopping onto the couch, you both rested at each end with your legs propped on his lap and his hands resting on your shin. "God, we over did it tonight," the moan you let out turned into a soft hum when you felt his hands slowly caressing the skin under his touch as he chuckled, "Speak for yourself, I can still take a couple more beers in me," he teased. You narrowed your eyes at him in mock judgment, "Sure, Giggly Giggleson, you DEFINITELY didn't drink too much even when you started flirting with me." Yunho bit his bottom lip at the mention of him flirting with you earlier, giddy that you actually noticed that he was indeed flirting and wasn't just being friendly as he intended. "How can I not when you were sitting there looking so devastatingly beautiful and delicious," his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip and your eyes couldn't help but focus on its movement, sure that his bottom lip was not the only wet lip at that moment in time. But you shook your head slightly to prevent yourself from saying something stupid like blurting out how much you want his tongue shoved down your throat. To mask your inner turmoil, you rolled your eyes and snap your leg at him in mock annoyance to which he just chuckled.

The movement you made shifted the position of your mini skirt, not realizing that it had ridden up slightly. Thankfully, Yunho was gentlemanly enough to pull it back to its original position and length, of course after battling his inner urge to just pull it further up and expose your panties to him that he know for sure would be very adorable. "You're wearing a short skirt, (y/n), you gotta be careful," he pointed out, putting his hands back to where they were so his mind wouldn't focus on what was under the skirt. You rolled your eyes and moved to straddle his lap, surprising Yunho but his hands somehow found purchase on your hips in a secured grip. "There's no one here but you, Yunnie," when you draped your hands on his shoulders, Yunho was sure that you could feel his erection forming and was just screwing with him. But in case you didn't, he wanted to play it safe. "Which is even more reason why you need to be careful," Yunho leaned to peck you on the nose which caused warmth to bloom in your chest and a rosy tint to spread to your cheeks from the spot where Yunho planted his lips on. "And why is that?" You asked, eyes glimmering with slight hope, "Because you're my best friend and you're so irresistable in this skirt. If you shake your cute lil' butt at me one more time I might not be able to hold myself back from seeing what's under your slutty little skirt."

Hearing Yunho said that made you automatically wet and you had to feign rolling your eyes and pushing Yunho's face away as you got off him to excuse yourself to the bathroom. While you tried to calm yourself in the bathroom, Yunho defeatedly covered his eyes with his arms, totally embarrassed and slightly regretting that he said that in the first place. But he was right, though, he had sported a boner as a result from you sitting on top of him, knowing full well that your cunt was separated from his cock by a couple layer of clothing items. Fuck, he was so close to feeling you. With a groan, Yunho depleted into the couch, with his eyes closed, he thought of what he was going to say to you.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, you were screaming into your bunched up towel, absolutely wrecked by Yunho's words. Sure, you wore it because you remembered Yunho being so absolutely transfixed with the item when you both went shopping merely a couple days ago. Your plan was in motion and you don't know how to feel about that as you were sure your chances of success was no bigger than 32%. The occassional ass glancing was normal, but a full blown confession that Yunho wanted to devour your cunt made your arousal leak out of you like a broken faucet. So before you throw caution out the window, you thought it would be best to calm yourself down a bit.

Your inebriated state dulled your sense of time because when you finally got out of the bathroom, you saw Yunho on the couch, sleeping with his arms above his head. Pouting from disappointment, you walked over to him and stood by his side, thinking about what you're supposed to do now. Should you wake him up? Should you tuck him in? What if he thought what happened was just a dream and he forgot about it? But he looked so peaceful and calm and so so pretty, how could you even consider waking him up?

Yunho truly looked beautiful when he slept; his long lashes that you're so jealous of, his fair complexity, his plump lips. You had to remind yourself that Yunho was asleep and despite his confession earlier, you should try to hold yourself back from mauling him. No matter how hard it was for you. Though as your eyes trailed from his face to his neck, then his chest, then his shoulders and arms, and finally landed on his fingers, you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat. It was long, pretty, and you know how some men have a severe case of man hands that made their fingers look stumpy and unappealing, but not Yunho. His fingers are just like his body, dainty and flexible yet they oddly enhances his masculinity. And for the life of you, you really do want to know how he would use them on you. Phantom feelings of Yunho's grip on your ass from earlier resurfaced and you shuddered at the memory, remembering how they were firm and possessive yet gentle and careful, it made you feel dangerous but provided a sense of safety as if telling you that you could trust him. And you do.

Without realizing, you had taken steps closer to his outstretched hand, standing so close to it that he was barely grazing you. For some reason, you could feel the warmth radiating from him even just from his digits. Your mind started wondering how exactly he would grab you and where. Your legs? Your knees? Your ankles? Or is he the type to spread you open by pinning your legs on the sides using his body? His wide shoulders would've definitely spread you open easily and it's not like you wouldn't open your legs for him. How can you not? It's Yunho for fuck's sake, your hot as fuck best friend who you sometimes (a lot of times) thought of whilst touching yourself.

As if he knew, Yunho stirred in his sleep which made you freeze in your spot, not wanting him to see what you were doing. He moved whilst still in his unconscious state and his hands moved slightly which unfortunately for you, pressed into your inner thigh with his soft palm making contact with the suddenly sensitive skin. Your body coiled from the touch and you couldn't help but let out a whimper. Everything felt so close yet so far all of a sudden and you wanted more. Though, you were fully aware that you shouldn't because Yunho was dead to the world and it would be wrong. But it felt so. so right and when else will you be getting a chance like this? Though, it didn't feel right as you weren't sure if he was okay with it or not. But he was just... Right there. Despite your better judgement, with your alcohol-soaked brain, your body seemed to move on its own before you could even make a coherent decision. The moment you realized what you were doing, you were already grinding against Yunho's arm with a lump forming in your throat. The guilt was making your stomach churn but you just couldn't stop what you were already doing. Even more so, you even moved down a bit so you could feel Yunho's long fingers directly on your covered slit. You had to cover your mouth with both your hands to suppress your moans because you didn't want him to wake up seeing you like that. Or you just didn't want any irrefutable reason to stop.

Unfortunately for you, your plans didn't go accordingly. Too busy with your ministration, you didn't realize Yunho slowly woke up with fluttering eyes and head slightly clearer than before. Ironically, the first thing that popped into his head was what you were doing as he had yet to realize that you were pleasuring yourself (or testing how you think he would pleasure you) on him. So when his consciousness finally came back wholly, the first thing he realized was something warm on his hand and something soft on his skin. "What the," Yunho craned his head slightly to see you with one hand covering your mouth and the other lifting your skirt as you ground yourself on his hand like a bitch in heat. A bitch with the neediest moans and the cutest pair of panties. God, was this a dream? Was this an imagination? Should he call on you and see if either you disappeared or he woke up in his bed with a raging boner? Or should he test the reality out himself?

Once again, your body froze when you felt something probing your cunt over the pathetic, flimsy excuse of a material. Your head snapped forward to see Yunho with his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes zeroed in on your crotch as if it was the most entertaining show ever. Or as if it was Fluffy, the three-headed dog as per his interest. "Yunho," the call made Yunho's eyes flit up to your eyes but his hand never stopped its movements on your, now that you took notice of it, sensitive pussy. You realized that you should have added something after calling him and you were sure you had the words at the tip of your tongue but when his damn middle finger slipped into your panties and started probing in your hole, you could actually feel your brain stalled and your tongue rolled into your throat.

It seemed like it would go on forever, the gaze you shared with Yunho, which made the fire that was starting in your chest grew considerably in a short span of time. From your perspective, you couldn't help but look at how lust-filled his eyes were, how he seemed hungry for you. He looked absolutely hot and maybe it was because you had never seen him look like that or look at you like that. It was a good thing though because even from just seeing it once, you know you couldn't get enough. From Yunho's side, he was taking his damn sweet time enjoying the way you look falling apart with only his fingers. Not that you knew about it, but he had a fair amount of experience imagining you under him, being used by and for him. He had even imagined you riding him like a cowboy making all sorts of noises from how good he felt inside you and also from the praises that he was giving you. Sure, he would like to praise you right then and there but by God, he was just so awestruck at how you looked and sounded. It was even better than his imagination, it was more than what he imagined. And he needed more.

Snapping you out of your pleasure-induced state, Yunho ripped your panties off easily and pulled you into his lap with a single gasp that escaped your lips. You barely registered the pieces of flimsy panties on the floor when Yunho pulled you so close that your noses were touching. "Don't worry, I'll buy cuter, frillier, and sexier panties for you," a chill ran up your spine when Yunho licked your bottom lip with a smug smirk on his face, "And you're going to do a little runway show for me then." With better positioning, Yunho was able to fully slip two of his thick and long fingers inside you with one swift move all thanks to your slick cunt. "Shi- fuck," you whimpered out as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, you felt your thighs tense up at how good Yunho's fingers were filling you and it was ridiculous because it was just his damn fingers. The sight of you on top of him was like a valuable renaissance art because it's dirty yet classy and he truly loved the physical proof of how he affected you so. Yunho used his free hand to flip your cute tiny skirt up to reveal the sight of your pussy absolutely devouring his digits. He loved it, he loved it so much, and he loved you so much. But that confession is for another time when his fingers are not up in you and he didn't want to make your arousal drip out of your cunt and drench his arm.

"I want to see you fuck yourself on my finger baby, make a show for me," Yunho felt his dick twitch in his pants when you let out a breathy whimper and your bottom lip quivered so adorably. "Show Yunnie how much he can make a mess of you," he demanded. Your heart dropped to your stomach when he used the nickname you used on him in a sexual way. Hearing that automatically made your hands move to his shoulders, anchoring your position as you began fucking yourself on his fingers. You were glad that he started with two because you didn't know how you were supposed to do it with three or more without your legs giving out. But you wanted to do your best to show him what you were capable of doing. Or maybe what he was capable of doing to you.

"Fuck I love your fingers Yunnie," you moaned out as your head dropped back, exposing your neck to Yunho which he utilized to plant his lips on your neck to begin marking you. Your grip on his shoulders tightened considerably when he delivered a particular suck and your mind immediately raced to imagine how that same suck would feel on your clit. Better yet, how he would look with his chin wet with your arousal between your legs. Just the thoughts made your pussy clench and your mouth drooled slightly, something Yunho didn't miss for even a second. With a chuckle sent through the skin of your neck, your body shuddered with the vibration that felt like electricity in your body. Along with your bouncing, as you fucked yourself on his fingers, your hips rolled forward when he pressed the heel of his palm on your clit, furthering your pleasure to the point that it was almost unbearable. "I- I wanna cum," you mumbled, biting your bottom lip to suppress a squeal when Yunho curled his fingers in you, accidentally grazing your g-spot. "Come on then baby, cum on my fingers and show me how much you're a good girl you are," he made a show of biting your upper chest through your sweater, dulling any pain but making your skin tingle. "You are, a good girl, right? A good, good girl in the tiniest skirt that you wear to tease any and all men that look in your way," he teased so smugly, loving how you seem to shrink under his words and he just loved it. He loves your tiny self (though metaphorically) in your tiny clothes that accentuate your everything and just drove him absolutely nuts. Your head shook quickly as you fucked yourself quicker and harder on his fingers with his palm still stimulating your clit, "No, no, no, Yunnie, just you. Only you. I wear this tiny, slutty skirt just for you," you spoke but your voice sounded small and breathy, exasperation beyond obvious to you and him. "Fuck, you'll be the death of me," Yunho grunted, thinking how much he was going to ravage you after this.

With a single push, Yunho managed to reposition you to be on your back with your head against the other armrest, legs spread open for him on his lap to provide easy access. "You better cum now, okay?" was all the warning you got before he fucked your hole even quicker than you were fucking yourself before. The slick you produced lubricated his movements effectively as well as letting out obnoxious, sloppy, sloshing sounds that told him just how wet you were. Yunho was definitely going to find a day (or night) soon enough just dedicated to eating you out.

You were reduced to a mess with your messy hair and trembling lips. Not to mention the pornographic moans you let out that may or may not cause you to receive complaints from the tenants on your floor or any other floors or even the next buildings. But you don't care, not at all, and especially not when Yunho made you cum so hard your hips were suspended mid-air, asscheeks clenched, and pussy leaking more of your juice onto Yunho's fingers. Though embarrassed at your situation, you found yourself incapable of moving whatsoever which was a contrast to Yunho who was looking at you with pure wonder and amazement, affection mixed with hunger. It was only when your hips rested back on the couch that Yunho took his fingers out of your cunt slowly, catching your attention. You couldn't deny that you almost drooled at the sight of Yunho sticking the fingers that were just in you into his mouth and sucking on them as if they were candy.

Distracted, you didn't realize that Yunho had begun unbuckling his pants and taking out his dick until you felt something heavy and hot slapping your cunt a couple times. It was only when you looked down that you saw his cock which was by far the biggest you have ever seen that you let out a soft squeak as your eyes widened. When you looked back up, Yunho was eyeing you hungrily like a predator.

"My turn."

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nina-ya · 5 months

Note

Hello hello nina-chwan! I have this idea that I would love to read from you if it’s interesting enough? It’s about the female crush or s/o (either way is fine🤗) of law and/or marco, and whoever you want to add, who has really long hair (it reaches past her hips/butt) but she always has it in an updo.

So I’d like to know how it will go when they see it down for the first time while she was taking care of it one day. I’m trying to grow my hair out and have always wanted to have it super long so… one piece men + long hair hyperfixation got me wondering ig? 😅

I’m sorry I’m being so awkward but thanks in advance lovely 😅🧡

A/N: HIIII I got to write for the sexy doctors omgggg I also added Zoro too cause why not THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING I HOPE YOU ENJOYYY Pairings: Law x Reader, Marco x Reader, Zoro x Reader (separately) CW: None for Law and Marcos parts. References to sex and hair pulling in Zoros part. WC: 982

Law had not intended to intrude on your privacy, but as fate would have it, he found himself needing something from you soon after you had stepped out of the shower. The encounter gave him a view he had not witnessed before- your hair down, still glistening from the shower.

You were absorbed in the act of brushing out your hair when Law entered. The room smelled of your shampoo, and the sight of you taking care of your hair captivated him. Law couldn’t help but stare. He took in the soft scene unfolding before him, and it only fueled his growing infatuation for you.

You caught movement in the corner of your eyes, and turned to see Law. Surprise filled your features as you took in the sight of him leaning against the doorway with a small smirk on his face. “Didn’t mean to catch you at a bad time,” he said, his voice filled with amusement. Your face heated up, and before you got a chance to chastise him, he spoke up again, catching you off guard. “Your hair down suits you.” It was a simple statement, but it was enough to make you stumble over your words.

“Haha, thanks… I, uh...” you started, trailing off as you failed to find the words to respond. Law's gaze lingered onto you as he stepped towards you, stopping just by your side. He didn’t say anything at first; rather he just reached out to lightly touch your hair. A shiver ran down your spine at the feeling, and you watched as he twirled the damp lock of hair in his fingers for a moment.

A small smile played on his lips as he continued, “You know, you should wear it down more often.” His words left you in a flustered gratitude.

Clearing your throat, you spoke up, “Um, did you need something?” you asked, changing the subject.

He looked at you and an air of realization crossed him that he indeed did come to you initially for a purpose, but it seemed inconsequential now, “I did, but that's not important anymore.” He dropped the piece of hair he was holding and took a step back and looked at you with a smirk as he said, “what’s important now is that you have to start showing me this more often, okay?”

---

Marco had known your hair was long, judging by the intricacies of the hair styles you usually held it up in, but he did not know just how long your hair was. At least until he stumbled across you sitting on the edge of your bed, in the process of tying it up to protect it from what the day may hold.

There you were, your hair falling down your sides, reflecting the light that shone through the window. Parting your hair and preparing to put it up, you looked up and saw Marcos' expression, sensing something was off. You spoke up, “What's wrong?” dropping your hands to your sides as you let go of your hair, opting to pay attention to him instead.

Marco snapped out of his trance and walked up to you as he responded, “Oh it’s nothing.” He took a seat on the bed next to you as he continued, “You just caught me off guard," he reached out and ran his hand through your hair as he continued, “I knew your hair was long, I guess I just never realized how long it was.”

A smile spread across your lips as you felt his fingers run through your hair. “Surprise” you teased. Marco chuckled, his free hand finding its way to yours, interlacing your fingers.

“I like it,” Marco said, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “But then again, I like everything about you.” He stopped running his fingers through your hair, and he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Leave it down for a bit,” he suggested, his eyes lingering on your hair.

“Why?” you asked.

He simply responded with, “I just want to admire the view.”

---

Zoro had stumbled into your room unexpectedly, his horrific sense of direction failing him once again. As he entered, he noticed you sitting by a mirror untangling your hair. Without much of a reaction, Zoro glanced in your direction and muttered a nonchalant, “This isn’t the men's quarters,”

You looked at him in slight surprise at the abrupt entrance and rolled his eyes at the comment. “Zoro, how the hell did you get lost on the ship? It's not even that big,” you asked, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

He grunted in acknowledgement, eyes glancing around the room before he decided to settle on your bed. You continued detangling your hair as Zoro struck up a conversation with you. He leaned against the headboard, seemingly absorbed in the conversation. Every now and then, his gaze would linger on you a moment more than usual, his expression suggesting that the conversation was not the only thing he had on his mind. But you never noticed, as you were too caught up in your own actions.

Soon, he left the room, seemingly unbothered by the new sight of seeing your hair down, but you would soon realize that he was thinking long and hard about it. Ever since that moment, his hands always found a place in your hair. Fingers delicately threading through the strands to lull you to sleep. Gripping firmly to angle your head, seeking better access to plant kisses and bites along the length of your neck. His touch became purposeful– pulling it away from your face into a makeshift ponytail to reveal your teary-eyed expression as you worked to please him with your mouth. Intertwining and tugging hard as he is buried deep within you coaxing the sweetest moans from your throat. Maybe, just maybe, you should have let your hair down sooner.

#one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar law #one piece fluff #roronoa zoro #marco the phoenix x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #marco x reader #marco the phoenix #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #one piece zoro #x reader #Nina Responds~✦#Nina Writes~✦

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21st-century-ninja · 4 months

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art reposter

So up front!! This is not intended as a call to dogpile, harass, or bully op. I just wanted to make an awareness post, because I saw people on my dash reblogging their works who didn't seem to be aware that the art was stolen. Just block and/or don’t interact with them and move on with your life, yk?

Anyway @sophia336 posted a fic called Earthbound last night (link). A cool premise where Cole merges with the earth in MotM, right? The only problem here is that they also posted artwork along with it, artwork which, by the watermark at the bottom left, seems to belong to a Mr. Essy.

Okay, I thought. So maybe they have two usernames for art, for personal use, etc. but going to their blog revealed no more art with that watermark on it.

So I searched it up in a couple of minutes and found the original artwork as, indeed, belonging to Mr. Essy over on instagram. (Link)

Okay. So the art belongs to Mr. Essy. Maybe they got permission to post it, even there was no mention of “The art isn’t mine, art belongs to Mr. Essy, etc” on the post.

But here it is again, and with a different artist.

(sophia336 link)(usagi haruka’s insta link)

Again, this took me two minutes of googling to find.

(Both of these artists appear to be non-native English speakers, which isn’t necessarily a pattern of anything, just something I noticed.)

Okay. So they’ve reposted art without credit or seemingly permission. Maybe they don’t know any better.

I found this post, though, on their blog from May of 2022 that suggests they have been made aware that this behavior is harmful.

(link)

For the third time, it took me two minutes of googling to find these artists I'd not heard of before. In the aforementioned May 2022 post, sophia336 wrote "All art isn't mine" in the description. In their ninjago posts, it seems that they never make a claim either way.

Tl;Dr: Sophia336 reposts art with their (as far as I can tell and have no reason to doubt) original fanfics. They are aware that this behavior is harmful and not what should be done.

And I get where they're coming from! Honestly I do! As a fellow fanfic writer, it can be really disheartening to see artwork getting more love than fanfic, even when the same amount of effort went into both. From what I read of their fics, they've got really great writing skill. I just wish they didn't feel the need to use stolen art to get views.

#ninjago #fabro cessat

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writella · 10 months

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Trinkets; The Gifts of Gold He Gave You

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

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

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

Trinkets moodboard & visualizer here!

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

A Bow from a Bowman

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” You asked calmly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Turnpikes, Gunshots, and Dreams

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

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

You’d grit your teeth and get on regardless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Flying Away With You

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bet you could.” He meant it.

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

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

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

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

Trinket No. 4: The Flower and the Photograph 𓇢𓆸

Back Pocket Memory

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pretty girl.

Handsome man.

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

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

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

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

“Daryl,” you whine.

He says it straight this time, “No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Never Fade Away

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh somberly, “You didn’t?”

“Didn’t see you in the window.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Definitely a chick’s.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is the only me you know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” He wipes his nose.

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

His snorts, “I’m not doin’ that.”

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

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

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

He nods, “Okay.”

“Promise?” You sing.

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

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

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

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

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

You agree, never fade away, please.

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

You wished for each other.

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

The Things I Only Trust You to Know

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

He saw you crying.

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

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

“Don’t gotta be.”

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

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

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

“Just say it,” he said calmly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then you’re wrong.”

You shake your head.

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

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

He nods.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, I was.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re not gonna find it tomorrow.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Confessions From a Broken Bowman and a Battered Beaut

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,” he mutters.

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

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

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

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

��I left you-”

“You didn’t know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It aint.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re worried, “What happened?”

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

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

“How long have you had that?”

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

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

Daryl doesn’t argue. This is him trying, he takes the win.

He doesn’t know how to put it nicely in your hair, how you do it with the different styles, so he just wraps all of your hair in a ponytail, just like last time, tying it into a bow.

It feels like a gift, not just because he gave it to you and not because it looks like a decoration on top of one, but it is all of it— this moment, the conversation— it all feels like breathing new life into something you worried might be slowly withering and dying. You exhale, it felt so nice to feel him so close, to feel his fingers run through your hair, to feel his breath on your skin.

“Think maybe this suits you better now,” he says, and maybe it always has.

He leans back against the wall and you lay your head and back in the crux of his knees and chest. You look up into his eyes and he does the same right down at you. There was more work to be done, more fighting to endure, but for now, you lay there as if you were the only two in the world. In a moment of sweet understanding; in a moment of love. You could finally admit it to yourself now, you were absolutely and monumentally in love.

… I could go on forever ♡ perhaps this can be a mini-series where I post one when I think of another and you can feel free to request a trinket you think Daryl would give the reader and I’ll post it and respond or even write a blurb for it and add it to the list if it’s a good fit! Thank you for reading. ⋆｡°✩

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x fem!reader #daryl dixon x female reader #the walking dead #the walking dead fluff #twd fanfiction #twd fluff #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #writella’s sfw section

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