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the-official-kitty · 4 months

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The feminine urge to be someone's significant annoyance

#desiblr #desi shit posting #desi stuff #pjo #nico di angelo #will solace #percy jackon and the olympians #solangelo #tumblr daily #desi side of tumblr

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lavend3r-stardust · 4 months

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Not to be sappy, but I wanna cling to their waist as they stand at a counter doing the most mundane, domestic chores. I dont care what it is, cooking, dishes, folding laundry; if they're standing, i'mma creep up behind them and hug them from the back, wrap my arms around their sides and try to link my hands together below their ribs, gonna lean my head against them as i press my ear to the space below their shoulder blades and try to listen to their heartbeat

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rybkart · 1 year

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Anyway here's a colection of my doodles done this month.:3

#rick riordan #artwork #rybkart #pjo #hoo #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #percy jackson #will solace #annabeth chase #luke castellan #doodle #solangelo #desi percy #percabeth

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girlcalledwhatsername · 2 years

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My mother usually says "let's have some tea" when it's time for tea. But some days, she will say "let's have a nice cup of tea". In my mind, there's a distinction between Tea and a Nice Cup of Tea.

Tea is a break, both making tea and drinking tea. It is the nearest point of respite to get to, to work towards. A nice cup of tea is something more. It is comfort.

It's the perfect cup of tea. Before you make it you'd think to yourself "I deserve something good". Everything is measured well, it's sweet enough to taste of childhood fancy, but not sweet enough to shock your senses.

It is strong enough you know it has been boiled just right. You can smell it immediately as it is poured into the cup. Maybe you'll be generous with the spices too, two pods of cardamom instead of the usual one.

A nice cup of tea is about the cup itself - heavy enough to be grounding in your cupped palms, but not so heavy that it adds to the weight already on you shoulders. A cup that prompts you sometimes to pause and stare and say "hey that's a cute cup actually isn't it?" the way you probably did when you first got it.

Most of all, a nice cup of tea is in the care you give to preparing it, perhaps the closest you'll come on a stressful day to showing care to yourself, vicariously through the tea you prepare.

Sometimes when I feel like the world is crumbling down around me, I tell myself in my mind "It's okay. it will be okay.. let's have a nice cup of tea"

#writings #literature #prose #i suppose #ha that rhymed #I've been meaning to write this out for a while hope someone finds solace in it he way I do in a nice cup of tea #hope you all have your nice cups of tea #desi #desi tag #bc i think y'all might get it just a wee bit more #tea

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reviilo · 2 years

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desi will and black will are fighting in my head and I DON'T KNOW WHO IS WINNING

#hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo #percy jackson & the olympians #will solace #william andrew solace #desi will solace #black will solace

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flametrashiraarchive · 8 months

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So, since @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi fed me real real good with her Muzan smut I wanted to write something in exchange, and as per usual I got carried away and the Giyuu "blurb" I promised became nearly 3k words of smut and feelings.

Stay With Me

Giyuu Tomioka x F!Reader. Childhood friends to lovers. A lot of handholding.

NSFW below the cut. MDNI

It began innocently.

You and Giyuu were just kids, given barely enough time to catch your breath and begin processing your grief after final selection when you were sent on your first mission together. The fight was messy and hard. Other slayers died. You survived, and that was a burden you both would always carry.

By the end of the fight, the pair of you were so exhausted you could barely stand. Giyuu's sapphire eyes stared at the snow-covered ground as the demon's body crumbled to ash and was lost to the wind. Your comrade’s bodies remained along with the guilt. The weight of everything sat atop you both, crushing and relentless; the loss and responsibility far too great for hearts so young to bear.

You were hurting but so was he. Giyuu’s heart has been hurting since the day he emerged from that accursed mountain and stood unblinking in the wisteria grove. Back then you hadn’t known how to comfort that scared, silent boy, but as he sat beside you on that first mission, you reached out and offered him simple solace. You held his hand.

“Giyuu,” you said, “stay with me. It’ll be okay.”

His hand was small and trembling back then, calluses barely formed and skin peeling where the hilt of his blade had rubbed away the top layers. The skinned peaks of his little knuckles broke your heart, even though your hands were just as small and battered.

His hand just hung loosely in yours as you curled your fingers around it. But he didn’t try to pull away. He simply let it be.

You kept a hold of his hand all the way back home.

“Thank you,” he said solemnly as you finally parted ways at a fork in the road. Those were the first words he had ever spoken to you.

As he walked down the road toward his village, your hand flexed around empty air. You missed the warmth.

The next mission you were sent on together ended in much the same way. And the next. And the next.

It became a habit. He would come to your side when the fight drew to a close, his hand nudging yours, inviting you to take it. He never spoke much– which you didn't mind at all; his presence was comforting enough for you. Some said he was weird. Others that he was too haughty to speak. You quickly silenced those whispers.

Giyuu was just quiet and sad, carrying so much on his shoulders. And though you barely knew a thing about him, he was your friend. So, after every mission you found yourselves on together, after every death, you held Giyuu’s hand.

But the years passed and he climbed the ranks faster than you did. The silent boy became a stoic man; his hand feeling larger, rougher, and heavier after every mission. Before long your fingers couldn't surround his fully, but you still tried. And despite the strength of his grip on the hilt of his blade, he remained passive in the gesture, his fingers never once curling to squeeze yours.

Then, Giyuu became a Hashira, tasked with eradicating demons far stronger than you could even attempt to fight. Your missions together grew fewer and farther between.

You missed him; missed the weight of his hand in yours, the constant comfort of his presence, the deep blue shade of his eyes. A hollow, almost painful feeling surged in your chest wherever you thought of him, but there wasn’t time to dwell. There were demons to kill, lives to save. You took the ache and pushed it down, burying it beneath your responsibility.

And then the time came when you were charged with leading a squad of lower rank slayers on a mission. Your quiet friend was engaged elsewhere, and at that point you hadn't seen him for months. Perhaps you never would again.

You tried not to think about him.

The mission went badly. Your entire group was wiped out. All of them, even the kids you'd silently sworn to protect from harm. The grief and the guilt were crushing. If only you'd been a split-second faster, if only you'd stood an inch the the left, if only your instincts hadn't told you to duck.

You sent your crow to fetch help, and tortured yourself with what-ifs, sitting on the earth in that forsaken forest. Waiting… surrounded by shrouded little figures. Two days later a troop of kakushi arrived to clean up and recover the bodies as you stood numb, staring… lost.

You were so close to disassociating entirely that you almost missed the glimpse of Giyuu's haori in the corner of your eye. Even when you registered what you had seen, you doubted your senses. Why would he be there? There was no need for a hashira; the demons were all gone. But no… your grief-stricken mind hadn't lied. He was there. For you.

He approached you silently, standing by your side, his knuckles brushing against the back of your hand. A moment later he curled his fingers around yours, firm, reassuring, but so gentle.

"I heard what happened and came as soon as I could,” he said.

"I should have protected them." Your voice trembled.

"I know it hurts. You can't blame yourself." His hold on you tightened. "Not even for a moment."

"Giyuu–"

His lips parted for a moment at the sound of his name coming from your lips, but he quickly recovered his composure. "Come with me."

Down the mountain he led you, away from the horrors, his hand cradling yours the entire way. His grip never once faltered. Even when you reached a village tucked away among the foothills. He brought you to a house whose door was painted with a wisteria seal.

He had the mistress of the house fetch a doctor to check over your injuries, which were miraculously minor, and told her that yes, you would require food and tea when you couldn't summon the words yourself. To your surprise, he knew exactly how you liked your tea brewed and what foods you liked, even though you had never talked about it. It seemed he had paid close attention to your preferences over the years.

He stayed by your side, guiding you gently through that difficult day. When the time came for you to rest, your hands remained linked across the space between your futons.

The sounds of his soft, slumbering breaths lulled you to sleep. And for the first time you could remember, you slept well.

When morning came, you awoke to the warm, comforting security of his embrace, your face pressed to his shoulder, and his fingers still entwined with yours. Sometime during the night you had rolled across to his futon and burrowed into his arms.

With a gentle murmur he began to wake and opened his eyes a little; a sliver of deep blue appeared half-concealed beneath his thick black eyelashes.

His breath audibly caught in his chest at the sight of you curled against him, but he didn't move. Neither did you.

Giyuu's shallow breaths fanned across your brow as you gazed into his eyes, caught in the duality of wondering if you had unintentionally crossed a boundary and feeling as though you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

"Is this okay?" you whispered.

He nodded once, and his hand gently tightened around yours. "Please… stay with me."

Heart thrumming against your ribs, you raised your interlocked hands to your lips and pressed a slow, tender kiss to each of his scarred knuckles. “Always.”

A sharp exhale blew across your forehead. You heard him swallow before he mirrored the gesture, his lips brushing against your aching hands, as soft and tender as new leaves warmed by morning sun. And when he had kissed each knuckle, he pressed a long, slow kiss to the pulsepoint of your wrist, closing his eyes, pulling in a deep breath.

Outside the world carried on as normal; birds sang, people chattered, carts rolled down the streets, but in your shared sanctuary everything changed. You repaid the kiss to your wrist with a kiss to his shoulder. He gave you an achingly soft kiss to your temple. You pressed your lips to his cheek, and he exchanged it for a kiss to the very corner of your lips which curved into a smile to mirror his own.

You were both breathless, pink-cheeked and dizzy with trepidation as the space between you closed and he touched the very tip of your nose with his. The warmth of his breath against your lips stirred up butterflies in your stomach. The hazy, almost drunk look in his eyes made your chest tighten.

Bringing up his palm to cup your cheek, he stroked his thumb along its curve. He closed his eyes and kissed your lips; softer and lighter than mist at first, then deeper, and deeper. You might have missed the quiet moan which escaped him if not for the vibration against your fingertips which pressed lightly to the hollow of his throat.

Kisses cascaded between you, each deeper than the last. Giyuu moaned again as you slid your tongue over his bottom lip, opening his mouth to permit your entry. With every new sensation he grew bolder, pressing his body against yours, sliding his hand down to your thigh to hitch it over his hip, rolling you onto your back with his weight and pressing you down, once more interlocking his fingers with yours.

The soft smile Giyuu had given you as you exchanged kisses faded, replaced by a silent intensity as he rocked his hips against you, shivering at the sensation. Both of you were clad in thin pajamas, and the shape of his body, as well as the heavy swell of his erection were unmistakable. He groaned as he felt the intoxicating heat of your pussy through your nightclothes, both of you desperately craving closeness in any form.

“Please…” he whispered, the only word his mind could summon as he pressed his forehead to your shoulder, fighting with the compulsion to keep rubbing his cock against you.

Heat tingled on your cheeks as you nodded in consent. “Yes.”

You were no less desperate, wetness soaking through the fabric of your pajamas as he grinded against you again.

You were both functioning on instinct as you pulled off your shirts, and Giyuu’s lips closed around your nipple, lapping at it with his tongue. He lifted his hips and the pair of you pulled down his pajama pants, freeing his erection. It wasn’t the first you’d seen, but it was by far the prettiest– gently curved toward his belly, crowned with a sweetly blushing tip and adorned with serpentine veins. It was also the largest you’d seen. By a long way.

He must’ve noticed the widening of your eyes, or the trepidation written across your face at the sight of it, because he released your nipple and glanced down with a worried expression which made your heart ache.

“You’re big,” you explained, wrapping your hand around it and giving him an exploratory stroke.

A choked cry burst from Giyuu’s lips as his cock twitched against your palm and a white rope of cum shot from the tip, spraying over your stomach. He hurried to clean it up with his pajama shirt and collapsed into you, burying his face against your neck, red with shame and arousal. “Sorry, I’m so sorry. Oh, Gods, I didn’t mean t–I’ve never felt anyone touch–”

“Giyuu…” You placed your hand on the back of his head and stroked his hair, gently and shushing him. “Stay with me, it’s okay.”

His breaths blew hot and heavy against your collarbone, each one accompanied by a ragged whimper until the sensation of your fingers threading through his hair calmed him. “I don’t think I’m done,” he said, lifting himself up and glancing down at his cock. He was still erect, a pearl of cum dripping from the tip. “I…don’t want to stop… please…”

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure. Please don’t stop.”

You smiled and spread the cum over the blushing head with your thumb, arousal flushing your chest as his face darkened and his eyes fluttered shut. As much as you craved his touch, watching Giyuu fall apart was the most beautiful and delicious thing you had ever witnessed, and a part of you wanted that again and again.

But Giyuu’s fingers gave yours a reassuring squeeze and then let go. He drew back away from your hands to kneel between your thighs. Inch by inch, he removed your pajama bottoms, kissing every bit of skin he exposed; your lower belly, your hips, your thighs, down to your knees. He removed the garment completely and glanced at your rosy face before his gaze fell reverently to your pussy.

His lips were maddeningly soft as he kissed your cunt slowly, his tongue delving into your entrance as his groan curled your toes. His eyes flicked up to you, gaging your reaction before he traced the shape of your pussy lips, with his tongue. After each experimental caress his eyes returned to your face, so desperate to please, to give you everything he could.

He lapped his tongue against your clit and your hips bucked toward him. “Fuck, Giyuu– that... Gods, yes–!”

Oh, there was nothing of the shy, quiet boy in his eyes then. Seeing your reaction, knowing he was pleasuring you well, tilted his lips into a smirk before they returned to their newfound purpose of driving you to absolute ecstasy. The blush on his cheeks spread as he licked at your clit, breaking away to breathe and circle it with the tip of his nose before continuing his kisses. His hot, wet mouth against your slick skin applying such divine pressure you couldn’t help but place your hand on the back of his head and sink your fingers into his thick, black hair, silently encouraging him to go on.

His name tumbled from your lips as you fell apart, grinding against his mouth. He savored every drop of your essence. Everything was new and fascinating to him; the way your thighs tensed and trembled, the powerful throb of your muscles as you rode the waves of your orgasm. He adored it. He wanted to give you more. More pleasure, more kisses, more love. He needed it.

As you came back down to earth, Giyuu kissed your pussy with such affection and tenderness your heart ached. He desired you, deeply and truly.

“I want–” he began, losing his voice to his shaking breath. “I want to be closer to you… can I…?”

You sat up, still trembling, anchoring your hands on his shoulders as you kissed him. The taste of you remained on his lips, mingled with the comforting scent of him. You wanted it too. You needed to be closer, to feel him inside you.

Pulling him back down, you stroked a hand up the back of his neck as the other pressed his cock between your folds, coating the tip of it in your slick before pushing it into you.

Despite the fact he had already cum, he was entirely unprepared for sensation of fucking you. His back arched, pressing his pelvis firmly against yours, bottoming out in you suddenly and eliciting a cry from both of you as his feet slipped against the futon for purchase.

“F—fuuuck,” he gasped, lowering his head and gritting his teeth as his arms trembled beneath him. It was all too much.

His body pressed to yours entirely, craving intimacy and closeness. He didn’t thrust–he couldn’t– he simply ground his hips against yours, the base of his cock rubbing against your clit as he gasped and the crease in his brow grew deeper. He was hanging on by a thread, overwhelmed and desperate to hold on, to make it last, to–

“Giyuu,” you whispered, placing your hand on his, “stay with me.”

He nodded, intertwining his fingers with yours and pulling in a breath. “Always… always.”

You held each other’s hand; that simple, innocent gesture of love and comfort, now more meaningful than ever. For years you had shared grief and guilt, loss and loneliness and the sweet comfort and solace you found in each other. And now you shared this.

Giyuu Tomioka, that quiet boy whose hand once trembled in yours, now held firm and just as securely as you did him.

#tomioka giyuu #giyuu x you #giyuu x reader #giyuu x y/n #tomioka x y/n #tomioka x you #tomioka x reader #tomioka smut #smut and fluff #smut and feels #giyu tomioka #giyuu tomioka #kny tomioka #tomioka giyū #tomioka giyu x reader

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rite4fun · 11 months

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soft hands

heyyy 🤪

i started this in the midst of my other writings- forgot about it and then i recently found it again and fell back in love with it so.. here it is finally!! // also my first request ever which is really exciting and special so i hope this doesn’t disappoint, i’ve spent the last two days perfecting it so if there is mistakes- idk man I have to stop looking at it before i go crazy 😭

requested by: @endlessvoidd

an angsty/fluffy/!!smutty!! fic based on this song - i.e. my interpretation into this.

18+ content

••

love is a fickle thing.

coming in many forms but always ending in similar fashion: heartache.

atleast that’s what it felt like to you. it was as if the whole world remained stagnant while your own went up in flames. but that’s what pain does to one, isolating them so only they feel as if there was no one else who could ever feel the way it made them.

this pain often took the shape of another human.

one that claimed another name, promising safety and care but never keeping to their word. it was a cycle they used, a ruse to get you under their control and you fell for it everytime.

a faux charming smile mixed with poisoned sweet words held in devilish hands.

your colorful heart so open for loving that it made you vulnerable to the ones who were willing to hold it. their rough hands gripping so tightly till you’d bruise only black and blue.

so now as the whole world burns, you had found solace in your own. it no longer felt like you were underwater, suffocating in the abyss of darkness that always seem to swallow you.

you’d been pushed to your limits, forced to become stronger and bolder in your decisions. you had too- in order to survive this new world where the only thing that mattered was living to see the next day. it was no longer a place that required such care or attention to minuscule feelings like love.

until you met him. daryl dixon.

someone with no smile, spoke very little words but otherwise soft hands.. someone who you never thought you’d fall for, especially in this seemingly mundane world.

but here you were..

it was like those pieces you left behind had come crumbling back into existence.

the colors of your broken heart, blooming together for another and no matter how hard you tried to deny the feelings, they would always be there, lingering into every touch, every gaze, every moment you had with him until it became too much to bare.

but even then, you’d do nothing.. never to push or pull him, you’d take whatever you could get because even without him reciprocating any feelings, it was the happiest you’d ever been.

••

violet, the selfless lover.

sweat glistened over his muscled arms, his sleeveless shirt accentuating his broad shoulders before dipping at his waist and hips that shift as he fiddles with his belt.

a familar sight: his back turned to you.

you lie in bed in the aftermath of your indulgences. the only covers having survived your rushed intimacy were the thin sheets that you pull up to your chest, shielding parts of yourself that he has already seen but now, not in a fit of hurried passion, it felt too vulnerable.

especially now, in the moments he quickly slips away into the night, void of live beings and caped into darkness.

your eyes flutter shut, ears catching the light sounds of his shuffling as he gathers himself. you swallow the suffocating words, the ones that ask him to lie back down with you.. to hold you, love you, touch you.

just this once, stay.

you repeat the words over and over in your head, hoping that somehow he would suddenly be able to read your mind but like clockwork, you hear him pause.

his motions freezing as you feel his gaze struck on your body, casted in the moonlight revealed from the open shades of the window that releases the heat of the room. you always wondered if in these moments he ever thinks about it.. staying.

laying down beside you as his hands caress the parts he had once gripped tightly in desire. your head upon his chest so you could listen to his heartbeat thudding softly against your ear. his arms wrapped around your frame, caging you in protectively.

but alas, it’s only seconds later, he’s moving again.

you steady your breathing, fighting every urge to twitch and allowing him to believe you have fallen asleep. you really aren’t sure who you do it more for: him, so there are no awkward goodbyes or yourself, so you don’t have to endure the pain that comes with his departure.

he always leaves though so your troubles never really vanish so you guess, in a sense it’s more for him.

you remember the first time it happened, after traveling together for so long with tensions high whenever you were near each other- it seemed inevitable. grappling at one anothers bodies in haste as you fought to stay quiet in hershels now cleared out barn.

embarrassingly that same night, you had expected something different. that it meant you no longer had to tip toe around the supposedly feelings between you both- except it appeared one sided when he left hurriedly after your secret escapade.

then you supposed it should have remained a one time thing but something kept pulling you both back towards the other and as time passed with more people added to your group, you figured you two would grow even further apart but no-

it wasn’t like he ever seeked you out but it was almost like he was always waiting, finding hidden spots wherever to succumb to your primal states before parting and acting as if you weren’t just moaning each others names in bliss.

maybe that’s the reason you continued to hold on so tightly, he kept coming back and despite his inability to show anything but desire towards you.. it felt like enough.

you felt like you could make it enough.

so you would act like it was all just a passing fleet of passion when it came down to it.. for him.

you can hear his steps around the room before a new pressure of weight covers your body, the welcomed warmth of the duvet setting your heart to burn.

only to be sizzled out by the sounds of his descending steps as he leaves the room, shutting the bedroom door softly before making his way down the stairs and out the front door, locking it with the spare key.

you sit up, gripping the thin sheet around your body as you move to stand at the open window. the streets remain dark but if you squint your eyes enough, you could make up the shape of his body, moving easily through the pitch black night.

the physical distance he puts between you rivals the emotional one that always sits heavily in your chest.

you watch as he approaches his home, the porch light turning on, making his body freeze at the bottom step for only a split second before he’s moving again, disappearing under the porch awning and eventually into the home.

your own home remains silent, quiet, still. completely void of anyone and anything but your soft breaths.

with the loss of some members of the community and the consistent rebuilding, new homes were becoming available. you once resided with the grimes family, michonne, carol and daryl.

until rick approached you all, offering you a place of your own. even before the world went to shit, you never lived alone. having a roommate of sorts or living with a boyfriend, and even when things got rough, your parents invited you in. the idea was unnerving, especially after living in close quarters with your newfound family. it was a change and you couldn’t understand why it made you so unsettled.. but a lot of things have changed since before and you assumed that everyone was trying to settle in more firmly, the grimes family deserved that more than anything so you figured you’d try.

maybe you, carol, and daryl could move into one home together?

but it was never spoken as an option, so you stood with shaky legs in the back of the living room as everyone looked to you in confirmation. you had refused to make eye contact with any of them, especially after carol piped up that daryl was welcome in her new home. isolating you without notice but you didn’t blame her, how could you?

there was plenty of chances for something to come of you and daryl but it didn’t. it wouldn’t, it seemed.

that leap of possibility lingered at arms length, yet felt untouchable.

so you agreed, following rick as he guided you to your very own home, placed conveniently right across the street from carol and daryls new home.

seemingly a physical representation of your inner battle, so close yet so far.

blue, the understanding lover.

there’s an overwhelming amount of yearning in your body as you watch him caress her forehead before pressing a soft kiss to it.

his hand is gentle in his touches, even from afar you can see the way in which everything he does is tender towards her.

for a second, you too, can almost feel the ghost of his touches, equally as soft but less loving and your heart aches at the thought.

you feel a bit ridiculous at being jealous of a baby. a sick baby at that.

“you ready?” your attention is pulled from the bittersweet scene to the woman that’s approaching you.

“‘course, you?” maggie hums with a grin before following your gaze that’s found it’s way back onto him.

“he’s always so good with her, hm?” you can only nod mutely, that ache beginning in your heart, falling to the pit of your stomach as you watch him conversate with rick who gently holds his babygirl in his hands- daryl loves on her with an equally soft touch.

one, your body desperately craves.

despite his hands physically being rough from the countless amount of hours he spends working with them, he had a way of knowing just how to handle you: so soft with the right amount of pressure to still excite you.

the only part missing was the consistency; the knowledge that he was yours as much as you knew he owned every bit of you.

even if he didn’t know it.

you shake your head as if it will physically rid your hopeless thoughts, changing your regard for checking your pack and making sure you’re prepared for the run.

shortly after everyone splits in farewells, six of you pile into a black suv for the trip. you settle in the furthest seats with maggie, rosita and tara infront of you as glenn drives with daryl in shotgun.

an unfortunate sickness had fallen on the community, not yet as severe as the one that had tragically taken place at the prison- but whatever it was spread fast and had sent a dent into the infirmaries medication.

so a pharmaceutical run was needed, especially after little judith herself fell ill.

the six of you volunteered, immediately finding a small community pharmacy close enough that had been scoped out as potential. it was a no brainer when it seemed nearly abandoned, very little walkers surrounding and every bit as hopeful as life could give right now.

upon arriving to the building, you split off into groups of two. you had expected to go with tara but found her already linking and walking off with rosita- and you’d never break up the dream team of maggie and glenn so.. you found yourself left with daryl.

there are very few moments where it’s ever just you two like this, without that fire burning between your bodies. you aren’t sure if that was just dumb luck or something daryl arranged so he never had to be with you alone. either way you never questioned it because sooner or later he would be in your bed, pressed skin to skin as you shared sharply sweet kisses and the feeling of being unwanted vanished.

green, the caring lover.

“shit” daryl curses as you wrap his leg is gauze, covering the wound he inflicted when a shelf fell onto him.

there’s an alarm blaring over your heads and the familar ghastly groans pounding on the pair of front doors that the rest of the four lean against to keep them out.

“did anyone check the back door?!” rosita yells.

“could hear them clawing at it too but i think it’s our best choice.. didn’t sound like too many but if we wait any longer, that could change” glenn speaks through his teeth as his feet slide against the linoleum flooring.

daryl winces when your rushed hands put too much pressure and you mutter a quick apology, “i can clear it”

“nah” you look up at him as he brushes off your offer.

“i don’t think we have much of a choice daryl, i can do it” your voice is quiet against the harsh banging, “we can’t wait it out, they can see us through the doors”

“i said ya ain’t doin’ it. jus’ let me think of somethin’” he makes to get up, his leg nearly collapsing under him in pain but your quick to reach out, grabbing onto his waist to steady him. you’ve never had your hands on him in this way, it feels different yet familar- heartwarming even as you brace his body against yours.

“well, can you think faster because i don’t know how much longer we have until they push through us!” rosita smarts at him, agitated with concern by the situation.

you lift your head to the flashing red lights above then twist it to the back of the pharmacy, “it looks like the alarms are set only upfront, they will be more attracted here than in the back.. i can do it”

you go to release daryl hastily, going to make a break for the back but he grabs your arm, clear irration oozing into his words, “are ya hearin’ me? … you three hold ‘em doors, we’ll let ‘em in one by one”

you stare in disbelief as everyone listens- tara and rosita holding onto one door while glenn has the other, maggie coming to stand next to you readily with her knife in hand.

your attention is then drawn to daryl who pushes your helping hands away in attempt to steady his stance alone, finding a comfortable balance as he readies his own knives.

the echoed alarm has nothing over the sound of your own heartbeat through your ears. there’s mild annoyance that builds in your stomach, in result of daryls doubt of your ability to do anything by yourself.

you find your feet moving backwards on their own accord, watching as they all follow directions but it’s not going to be enough against the growing dead outside- getting close enough to consider a horde. one of them slips, allowing two walkers to stumble in and as maggie and daryl are distracted, you take your sudden leave.

sprinting towards the back before anyone can say anything. the relentlessly pounding is just as loud and the hinges of the back door rattle but the piercing siren has lessened, giving you enough head clearance to search the back room for something to hold against the door. you plan to use the same tactic except it’s just you against the many that stand on the other side.

it’s the only way you can think of to ensure that everyone makes it home with the supplies, a hell of a lot quicker too.

the only things in your vincity is shelves stuffed with random boxes but it will have to do. you yank some down, hoping to lessen the weight of it before you’re shoving at it.

“come on..” you grunt in frustration but with one final harsh shove, it collapses over with a loud bang- a heavy box toppling down along your arm, cutting open a clean laceration from your inner elbow to your wrist, “fuck!”

ironic enough the fallen box now lays crumbled at your feet, busted open and spilling out its contents of bandages. there isn’t time to perfect the wrapping of your arm, nevermind control the consistent bleeding that quickly seeps into the cloth but it works for now.

adrenaline runs through your veins, keeping the pain to a minimum as you drag the shelf to the door, angling it so that it only has a sliver of space to crack open once it hits the fallen piece of metal.

your body feels heavy, exhaustion settling into your bones from this trip already. the idea of crawling into the warmth of your bed, sounded better than ever but it’s not time yet. there was still work to do and your people needed an out, you’ll be damned if daryls remark held you back from a potential opening.

you heave a deep breath, turning the knob just so the door is loose before backing up and readying your knife.

the first few walkers stumble through the crack one by one, easy enough to take out. in a short amount of time, you’d killed a dozen or so and you’re beginning to wonder how many more reside outside the door as you begin to tire out. there’s a pause and no more push through but you can hear them, their monstrous groaning floating through the crack.

you decide to take a breather, dropping your arms in fatigue but it’s the wrong time to rest as another walker squeezes through, having been forced through by another that stumbles in quickly after. you shove tiredlessly at the first one, gripping the second and collapsing to the ground with it as you stab it in it’s head. your knife is a lost cause inside the skull of the walker and you scramble back as the second one stumbles after you, it’s unstable body crumbling ontop of yours.

you have your hurt forearm rested on it’s neck as it’s teeth snaps at you grossly while the other hand pushes at it’s forehead. it’s been awhile since you’ve been so close to a walker like this. since arriving to alexandria, you and maggie worked along with deanna on building a new brighter future for the community.

as time passed, you found being inside the walls wasn’t so bad and the only time you itched to be out was when daryl would be gone on his weeks long recruiting trips.

he is what made alexandria feel more like home to you.

his insane judgement of character made you feel safe, so if he found that trust within those walls- so did you and every other person in your group.

that’s why you needed him to get back, why they all needed to make it back. alexandria would never be the same without him- without any of them.

you internally scoff at your overly ridiculous thoughts, even as you sweat so close to death itself, all you can think about is him.

but with thoughts of getting him out safely, comes a newfound strength as you let it’s forehead go, the walkers head dropping dangerously closer to your face as you scramble for the gun on your hip.

it’s a clean one shot before your throwing the walkers body to the side with a grunt, scurrying back in fear as your heart thuds painfully in your chest.

no matter how many times you’re faced with this new reality, it never fails to scare you shitless with the constant reminder of how living isn’t a promise and looms so dangerously over your head- or directly in your face.

a refreshing soft breeze comes from the cracked door, snapping you from your building anxiety and you hastily crawl to it, pulling it open more and finding the alley clear.

you smile in relief and as much as your body screams to rest, you’re running to grab the others to make a swift escape before anymore walkers can show up.

red, the passionate lover.

the thunderous clouds open for the loud torrents of rain creating a solemn ambience among the community.

similar to the way you feel as you lay on the couch, shades open to watch the droplets that hit the window before sliding down.

freshly showered with a clean bandage on your arm, wrapped in a sweatshirt far too big for your figure and fuzzy socks, you wallow in the warmth of your own home.

there’s a pounding at your front door that interrupts your thoughts, one that could almost rival the thunder released from the sky.

you pull a thin blanket from the couch, wrapping it around yourself as your sock covered feet slide across the wood flooring to the door.

pulling it open, the sky’s weeping shower is louder but what takes your attention is the soaking wet man that stands before you.

“daryl?” head to toe, his body is drenched. his clothes clingling to him, dripping onto your front doorstep. his hair beginning to wave as the tips leak water onto his shoulders and face, in which you finally take in his exasperated expression, “what’s wrong?”

“wha’s wrong?” his tone is full of frustration, “let’s start with tha’ stunt ya pulled earlier today, hm?”

confusion covers your features, your fingers gripping the blanket tighter around your body when a gust of wind and rain blows through, “what do you mean?”

daryl huffs, a hand coming up to swipe over his mouth roughly, “i mean.. ya makin’ a stupid decision tha’ could’ve costed ya, yer life!”

“what?” you can tell your inability to make sense of the conversation only frustrates him more but given that last time you saw him, you guys were fine- as far as him ignoring you, nothing seemed out of the ordinary and now he shows up at your home to yell at you? so yeah, you had a right to be a little confused.

“dun’ play dumb, i told ya the plan and ya ran off! decided playin’ with ya life was the way to go instead!” although it was just hours ago that you laid face to face with death, it felt like days and you no longer cared to linger on it anymore as you stand within the safety of alexandria.

“i made a choice. you have no right to insult me! it saved us, didn’t it?!” you hadn’t expected him to praise you for what you did, but his response to your actions that helped you guys make it back safely was unbelievable, had it been anyone else-

“at what cost?!” clearly you aren’t understanding what he’s saying as he grows more agitated by the second.

“what does it matter? it’s over daryl!” you grip the blanket in one hand as you toss the other out in annoyance.

“ya shouldn’t be risking ya life lik tha’.. fo’ anyone!”

“well i did!”

“why?!”

“because that’s what you do for someone you love!” your chest heaves with rattling breaths, “i-i wasn’t thinking about me, i just knew you had to get out, that’s all i cared about.. you getting home” you turn your head as you feel tears burn in your eyes.

it’d be silent if not for the rumbling downpour coming from the sky above as if the universe too, was upset.

“… ya love me?” bewilderment makes up his otherwise timid tone.

but you can’t face him, the humiliation of outing yourself too much to bare so you just nod your head abashedly, tear-filled gazed locked on a chipped part of the doorway.

“look at me” you can see his body move closer from the corner of your eye but you make no move to change positions.

body aflamed with embarrassment, frozen in time as your mind races through every outcome of this situation. all ending in familiarity: your heart laid crushed in the open, bleeding the many colors it holds. it’s like you can feel the ache of longing that follows as you rethink every moment you guys had together, clinging to the memories to cope with the overwhelming sadness that withers into your chest.

there is no time to mourn something you haven’t lost yet when a pair of hands cup your face gently, forcing your gaze to the sharp blue eyes of daryls.

the distance between your faces closing as his thumbs absentmindedly wipe the tears from under your eyes. the rise of your heartbeat causes your chest to heave with your deep breathes mixing with daryls as his body sways closer. his eyes never leave your face, taking in every inch as if he still can’t believe the words that you uttered so effortlessly in your emotional fit.

“ya mean it?” with your gazes locked, you can finally take in the hidden vulnerability that lies in between his mumbled words. unable to speak with the lump that settles into your throat, you can only nod feverishly in his grip but it isn’t enough as he shakes his head, “say it again” but you respond with your own head shake, finding it hard to grasp onto any words. his rough thumb brushes over your trembling bottom lip soothingly, his tone soft yet encouraging, “ya can, baby.. say it again”

the pet name slips from his lips seamlessly, breaking your resolve as your hand releases the blanket and instead, both reaching out to grip his forearms with soft dry sobs of the words over and over.

i love you. i love you. i love you.

daryl is quick to match your distress with comfort, wrapping one arm around your waist to hold your body flush against his, “i know, i know, i know.. ’s okay baby”

you allow yourself to fall into his arms with a light flush to your cheeks from embarrassment, so quick to fall apart at the slightest coaxing but you needed this. him. you needed him to understand just how much you felt for him and how overwhelming it all was.

his arms are strong, encompassing you in his body heat that lights a fire in your own. your arms snake around his neck, pulling his face closer and it’s enough for him to finally slot your lips together.

despite the growing fever of desire, the kiss remains slow but your grips on each other tighten as he shuffles your bodies into the house, shutting the door all the while keeping his lips attached to yours.

one of his hand slides down your body, gripping your thigh as a signal for you to wrap your legs around him, which you do with a quiet huff.

with blinded knowledge of the layout he takes you to the living room, laying your body gently on the couch.

you shiver at the lack of contact and his piercing stare as he takes in your delicate state. your hair fanning behind your head as the oversized sweatshirt you wear hikes up to your upper thighs, your legs bent yet closed innocently- revealing just the cusp of your bottom to him.

your eyebrows furrow at his longing gaze, poking his leg playfully with your sock covered foot which he grabs. you meet his sharp blue eyes and that growing fire in your stomach heightens at the hunger that lingers in them.

he seems to want to take his time, enjoying the sight of you but the need in you burns painfully for his touch.

tilting your head, you look at him from under your lashes, fluttering them prettily as you reach your hands out towards him.

he comes easily, settling over your body- it should bother you that his clothes remain wet and cold but it soothes your otherwise hot skin when his broad frame settles between your legs.

you’re pulling his lips to meet yours again, letting out a gasp at the sensation, sometimes you forget just how good you guys are together.

having spent years learning how each others bodies work; he knows exactly what touches will have falling apart while gasping his name and you know just how to move to have him desperately coming back for more- you two work together like a well oiled machine.

he lifts off of you, a whimper escaping your throat, “‘s okay baby, jus’ gotta take this off” he’s only able to swipe his signature vest off before you’re sweeping your upper body up to help him unbutton his sleeveless top, “eager, ain’t ya sweethear’?” his hand brushes pieces of your hair behind your ear, finger sliding down your neck and hooking into the crew of your sweatshirt.

you ignore his truthful remark, settling for pushing his shirt off his shoulders before pulling him back over your body, his bare chest pressing through the thick material of your own top yet you feel like you need more.

“more..” you squirm under him as his hands softly wander over your covered frame.

daryl only hushes you, his rough hands sliding under your sweatshirt, meeting the soft skin of your lower stomach, dipping up at your waist, tickling at your ribs until his fingertips skim just under your breasts. you arch beautifully into his hands, eyes hooded in lust as he watches your lips part in a quiet gasp.

your own hands grip at his muscled biceps, fingernails digging in- in anticipated pleasure. your body rolls, thrusting your hips into his in a desperate search of something to ease the throbbing pressure building between your legs.

he seems to take pity on you, lowering his body until he’s eye level to your stomach. his hands bunch up the fabric of your sweatshirt, lifting it just enough to reveal your belly button.

he places kisses under it, a warm and gentle peck that has you sucking your stomach in at the gesture. your hands grip his as you look down, his unruly hair falling into his face, slightly covering his now darkened blue eyes that glanced up every so often to enjoy the way your features contort in bliss. his lips remain on your skin, pressing sloppy kisses wherever he deems fit as he travels up. he keeps up with the lifting of your top, every new layer of revealed skin is left with heated, wet kisses that the air cools over- the sensation of it all, sending a thrilling shiver throughout your whole body.

you can’t seem to control your hips, bucking everytime daryl stops and takes a nibble at your skin before licking over it soothingly.

with your sweatshirt finally bunched under your pits to reveal your breasts to the open air, nipples hardening at the change of temperature. daryl kisses in the valley of your chest before humming to himself when he gets his lips around one of your nipples, his scruff scratching over the soft skin while one of his hands finds your other breast, calloused fingertips running over the nipple.

the change of position has daryls hips pressed right against yours, his jean covered bulge digging into your thinly covered core. a simple roll of your hips has your eyes rolling back, a choked gasp releasing from your mouth at the newfound pleasure.

daryl has switched to the other nipple, giving it the same attention as the last before he can’t take anymore of your quiet noises- lifting up to take your lips into another biting kiss. his hands grappling to rip off the sweatshirt over your head as he settles back on his haunches, only a sliver of blue visible in his eyes as he takes in your body - only softening a little as they gaze over your bandaged arm.

your legs settle over his thighs but the more he stares, the more unsure you become and you find your knees turning in- in an attempt to hide the most vulnerable part of yourself but daryl doesn’t let you get far, immediately gripping them to push them back out. one hand holds the crease of your knee, keeping your legs apart while the other slips down to your covered core, fingertips dancing over the wet patch of your panties.

the same way he seems entranced by your figure, you can’t take your eyes off him. on normal circumstances, he never took his time: seemingly too overwhelmed with desire to play things out, only taking exactly what he came for and never lingering after.

now though, his hands eagerly pause to truly appreciate whatever details he’s found of your body. his eyes lost in the way you move, the way you look.. finally he gets the chance to fully indulge the parts of you he never got to take advantage of in your unspoken situationship.

you huff as your hips press more firmly into his hands, daryls eyebrows raising in amusement at your clear impatience.

“jus’ wanted ta look at m’ girl” his mocking tone only burns the flames hotter in your body, “tha’s wha’ ya are, hm? mine?” he pushes your panties to the side, your dripping core pulsing in anticipation. he drags his fingertips through the wetness, collecting it before spreading it messily over your lips. he barely skims over your clit but the teasing has your senses on high and you find yourself unable to stop the twitch of your hips, “say it” his motions stop, fingers hovering over you as you meet his darkened gaze.

“i’m yours” your voice is broken, meek and so so beautiful to him, “please, ‘m yours”

maybe another time you’d feel embarrassed about being so desperate but the softness of his hands: the loving way he tends to your neediness has you on cloud nine.

“mm, ‘ve got ya” his gravely voice is only getting deeper, rumbling deep into his chest as he allows two thick fingers to slide into your pulsating hole. after years of being together, your body takes to him easily, opening to accommodate his digits.

“yes…” you hiss as you toss your head back, legs twitching as they threaten to close around his hand, a weak attempt to lock in the pleasure somehow.

daryl only grunts before his fingers are moving, hooking them everytime they slide out to target your gspot, thumb brushing against your throbbing clit. his pace is slower than normal, dragging out the sensation until you forget your name.

your impending orgasm is closer than you thought, his previous teasing ministrations having more of an effect on your body than the rushed ones you’ve endured before- not that those weren’t good but this, this felt stronger and harder to hold back.

as if sensing the same thing, daryls fingers pick up the pace until a slight squelch of your slick is heard over your gasping moans.

“gunna come fo’ me?” it’s sort of useless of him to ask as your eyes threaten to fall into the back your head, your body rolling into his hand uncontrollably and the obvious mewls of pleasure that spill from your lips- yet, you answer in a clumsy nod.

daryl doubles down in his actions, somehow shuffling even closer as he keeps his fingers inside of you and only thrusting deeper with curled fingertips, thumb messily moving over your sensitive clit.

the choked out moan you let out breaks in half into a high pitched squeal, knees helplessly knocking together while your hands reach out to grasp any part of the couch, you could get your hands on as your high hits.

“tha’s it..” the words are more of a growl as daryl watches you fall apart, your cries a muttered mixture of his name and sobs of pure pleasure until your left sinking into the couch with watery doe eyes, flushed cheeks, messy hair, and the heavy rise and fall of your naked chest.

his fingers only linger inside you for a moment more before pulling them out, lifting them to his mouth in a seemless action. he hums happily around his soaked digits as you whimper at the sight, shaky thighs opening back up despite your still throbbing core.

his hands fall to caress the smooth surface of them, eyes lost in the mess of your cunt until your hands reach out, fingers barely tickling over the bulge in his jeans. his hips push forward more and the response is enough for you to lift up, scrambling to unbutton his jeans and hurriedly pulling his cock out from his briefs.

he sits heavy in your palm, angry red tip with decorative blue veins down his shaft. your mouth waters at the sight and you go to lean forward, prepared to make him a mess as much as he did you but a hand grips the back of your head, fingers tangling into your hair to tilt your eyes up at him.

your eyes are lust blown and so very eager, only to twinkle with confusion at his next words, “i’ll come too soon”

you pout, “want you too”

at your indignant tone, he cracks a small smile. hand coming up to cup your chin, thumb brushing softly over your lips before falling onto your tongue when you open your mouth- keen on showing him exactly what he is missing out on when the slick muscle swirls around his finger, cheeks holllowing sharply as you bob your head sinfully.

you can feel his cock twitch violently in your hand, your own thumb swiping over his tip to the oozing precum that continuously drips out.

entranced by you, it takes daryl a second to fully pull away: enjoying the suction of his digit and the soft pull of your hand on his cock but he finds the control to back away.

your eyesbrows pull together in confusion, a flash of hurt covering your features when he stands up from the couch- a sudden doubtful feeling that this isn’t what you thought it was settling into your head.

“not going anywhere, jus’ takin’ my jeans off sweethear’” his reassuring words ease the tension in your body as you melt back into the couch. his briefs come down with his jeans, revealing his familiar broad body to your eyes, except now, you’re able to fully take him in: fully appreciate his scars, his muscles, his tattoos.. everything that makes him- him. the many reasons you’ve found yourself falling for him before you could even catch yourself, “wha’s that look for?”

you hadn’t even realized you were staring at him a certain way as he settles back inbetween your legs after helping you disgard the last few articles of clothing on your own body.

you squirm under his tickling hands as they graze over your body in a loving manner, you release of sigh of bliss at the motions. his fingers dancing around your waist until you look back into his eyes that hold a questioning gaze.

“just.. love you” you shrug nonchalantly, breaking the intense gaze as your fingers reach out the fiddle with the ones still at your waist- an uncertainty to your already fragile tone.

an obvious fear that you may say the wrong thing, running him off to the hills after getting only a sliver of what could be.

your not sure what to expect but it isn’t his fingers tangling into yours, locking them together and squeezing to gain your attention again.

his chest presses against yours as he leans closer to your face, pecking your lips softly a couple of times before mumbling the words bashfully against them, “love ya too”

you’re at a loss of words, gasping softly as your hands untangle from his to grasp at his face, fingers brushing the stray hairs away so you could get a clear look of his face.

his sight lowers, staring more at your chin in obvious embarrassment, alongside the flash of red that spreads over the apple of his cheeks.

you bite your lip in hopes of curbing your amused smile but you can’t- too overjoyed with his words as you force him to look at you and as if seeing the clear happiness of your own features, he fights to hide his own.

“say it again” you sweetly mock his words from earlier, making daryl rolls his eyes playfully, grumbling as he shifts above you. the new position having his cock pressed against your core- sending a thrilling shock of heat through both you as if you had forgotten where you guys were.

a gasp releasing from both of your mouths as you move against one another, searching for that pleasurable feeling again.

you’re just finding a good rhythm, timing the roll of your hips perfectly with his so that the head of his cock nails your swelling clit everytime but he sits back- an action that has you whining in protest.

“quit tha’” he slaps a hand on your thigh, your body jerking at the delicious sting it brings, before he is guiding his cock to your slick hole. your senses are in overdrive after your first orgasm, the slow stretch of him pushing into you is a tad overwhelming as you reach out for one of his hands. his expression softens, his free hand rubbing soothingly up and down your thigh, even leaning over to press a little kiss on your knee.

your eyes are closed, chest heaving in deep breaths as you feel him enter you inch by inch slowly. in a normal fit of hurried passion, driven by nothing but lust, these moments are easily skipped over. fast paced with only one goal; release.

but now, as you grip onto one hand, his other softly grazing over your body with the odd kiss: it’s nothing but in the rawest form of love.

the simplicity of intimacy.

pressed all the way in, you find your body quickly morphing around the intrusion of him and your eyes finally open, finding his own on your face.

“‘kay?” physically feeling his small loving touches give no justice to the way his eyes glimmer fondly, a small hint of relief in them as if he has been waiting equally as long for you as you have for him.

maybe he has.. maybe his lack of emotions was a protective wall around his heart incase you didn’t truly feel anything for him- other than the odd fleeting need of release.

but you do, you always have and you try your best to convey that through your own expression while nodding to his question.

he chooses in that moment to move, sliding his cock out and slowly thrusting back in.

“ah..” your lips open in a blissful gasp, hips rolling down to meet his.

“yeah?” his tone is soft, hand coming down so his thumb could rub at your swollen clit, the shock of pleasure having you clench around his sensitive cock: a reaction that has him groaning, body slouching until his naked chest rests against yours, his face falling into your neck as his thrusts become more desperate.

your free hand comes to rest on the back of his head, tangling into the unruly strands as he bites at your collarbone with growls of pleasure. your still linked hands press further into the couch, now next to your head as this new position only allows your bodies to slide against each other but it’s enough. your sensitivity bringing your second release faster than the first while daryl heads for his first one after holding back for so long.

his hips stutter against your constant rolling, an attempt to make this last a little bit longer but you only torture him further- intentionally squeezing your walls around him.

“fuck” he pants hotly against your neck, “‘m gonna come if ya don’ stop”

“want you too” you huff back as your motions double down, the combination of your cunt clenching around his thick pulsing cock and the consistent sway of your body against him only pushes him closer to coming but he no longer fights it.

your stomach is tightening in heat as you yank his hair, forcing his head to come out from your neck, teeth clashing a bit clumsy as you pull his mouth to yours.

“do it” you egg him on, lips barely brushing his as he grits his teeth, “‘m yours, yeah? show me”

your bodies slide easily with the building layer of sweat on your skin from the amount of exertion you both use to challenge the other.

“fuckin’..” daryl presses his lips harshly against yours before his hips jerk sharply as he cums, groaning loudly and dropping his forehead on yours as he pants through the buzzing pleasure.

the sight has you nearing your own orgasm, gasping brokenly as you feel his cock twitch, painting your walls white and claiming you in a primal way that sends tingles from your stomach to your toes.

“please.. ‘m so close” you beg prettily as daryls orgasm passes, his attention immediately focusing on your approaching second one as he thrusts shallowly: so deep you feel him hitting spots that bring tears to your eyes, momentarily blurring your vision.

the quick build up has you babbling nothing but nonsense and the odd slip of his name. he has to lean back to take in the enticing vision you’ve become, head thrown back with your eyes shut tight, pink plump lips open to let out the most delicate sounds.

both of your hands now hold his biceps in a deathly grip, trying to find something to ground you as your high gets closer.

daryl tips forward to bite playfully at your chin, “look at me sweethear’”

you whimper before complying, dropping your head down heavily to peer up at him through wet lashes. he holds the eye contact as his hips increase in pace and force, now with his hands free: one settles next to your head, balancing his body above you while the other grips at your waist, pulling you down to meet his.

your second orgasm teeters on the edge of release and it’s like daryl can sense it, leaning down to connect your lips once more before mumbling against them, “‘m girl looks so pretty, hm? tha’s it… gonn’ come one more time fo’ me? promise i’ll take care of ya, let me see sweethear’.. told ya i love ya”

the heartfelt words send you over, your hands pulling him closer as you arch up into him. your eyes roll to the back of your head, cunt clenching tightly around his sensitive cock and thighs trembling around his hips. your cries of pure joy are followed by dry sobs as you try and catch your breath after such an intense high.

daryl is quick to meet your fragile state, petting your hair down as he places small kisses all over your cheeks, nose, corner of your lips, chin, neck, anywhere he could reach as you go through the full motions of your orgasm.

when your body drops heavily back into the couch, your eyes are shut in exhaustion, fully residing in his sweet pampering. the ticklish feeling of his scruffy beard against your neck has you giggling breathlessly, which only results in him groaning in response as you unconsciously squeeze around him.

he lifts to fully pull himself out of your body, both of you hissing in mild discomfort. for a split second as he removes his body completely and stands, you expect him to begin putting his clothes on, preparing to take his usual swift leave but instead he reaches under your body, lifting you bridal style.

“daryl!” you squeal as your arms wrap around his shoulders, an amused smirk falling onto his face as he carries you up the stairs to your ensuite bathroom in silence.

your next actions are equally as quiet, him leaving to grab towels and clothes while you use the restroom and begin the shower. standing infront of the mirror, you take in the new lovebites that scatter around your naked body, luckily in spots you can hide easily. a flush taking over your features even more when he appears in similar fashion: completely nude with scratches and nail indents- a true mess you’ve made of one another.

he hides a coy smile as he saddles behind you, taking in the mere sight he created upon you. you shiver when his hands settle on your hips before slipping to wrap around your front, pulling your back into his chest as he pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder.

all of his motions tender and loving- something you’ve yearned after for years from him.

and it’s finally happening, a little quicker than you thought too but maybe a little bit of coaxing from both sides is all you guys needed to fall into the right rhythm.

you feel a bit ridiculous that it took this long but the reality of it happening now, you can’t seem to linger on anything other than pure happiness as he holds you so closely.

his blue eyes peek up from behind your shoulder, “‘kay?”

your eyes sparkle with newfound warmth, “i’m okay, you?”

he playfully nibbles at your shoulder, tightening his hold on you even more as you laugh delightfully in response.

the shower is quick, intimate, soft and loving. both of you tending to one another as if you’ve done it for years and maybe you have in your own odd ways- daryl always keeping an eye out for you on supply runs, making sure you had enough for dinner even if it meant giving up some of his, bringing back things he knows you’ll like but gifting them anonymously while you loved him unconditionally, selflessly more giving than taking, accepting his many flaws and mistakes, understanding when he needs space, caring for him in all the ways he would allow you from afar.

he felt like he had a lot of making up to do but once again, you didn’t care as you laid upon his naked chest. freshly cleaned with minimal clothing on, your bodies lay above the sheets, basking in the cool breeze that flowed through the cracked window of your bedroom. the aftermath of the storm bringing glimpses of sunlight and light wind.

a certain calmness relaying over the both of you.

your leg was thrown over his hips, warm body pressed entirely to his side as your head rose with the slow rise and fall movement of his chest, the beating of his heart thudding softly in your ear as one of his hands softly rub your back, the other splaying across his own stomach, loosely wrapped around the wrist of your hand that continues to trace hearts on his chest.

if there was a way to touch you, he was doing it- enjoying the fact that you too, wanted this and diving head first into everything clumsily but oh so sweetly.

the heavy weight of his arms around your body and the warm consistent press of his hands was only a constant reminder that this was infact real.

he was here to finally just stay.

and while you know that this only the beginning, that both of you had to have real, long, uncomfortable conversations about your feelings- this was more than enough for now.

just you, him and his soft hands.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader fic #norman reedus #the walking dead #twd x reader #daryldixon #rite4fun #romantic pairing #light angst

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ninjakitty2988 · 8 months

Text

Kyojuro in the bath with his sunflower his pov

Minors do not react! 🔞

Feeling her body respond to my touch, her soft moan of pleasure reverberating through the air, intensifies the fire burning within me. The sound is like a sweet melody, a testament to the profound pleasure we elicit in each other.

Emboldened by her response, I continue to knead and squeeze her peachy backside, reveling in the softness of her flesh beneath my fingertips. Each gentle squeeze sends ripples of sensation cascading through her body, creating a symphony of desire.

Feeling the sublime heat radiating from her core, I move my fingers to explore further, trailing light caresses along her inner thighs. Teasingly, I inch closer to the pulsing center of her pleasure, leaving her craving for more.

As I continue to explore the depths of her desire, our bodies intertwined in the warm embrace of the hot waters, our connection becomes a tempest of sensuality and passion. The steam curls around us like a secret witness, heightening the intensity of our desires.

With a hunger that matches hers, I lower my lips to her neck, planting hot, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin. My free hand trails up her body, finding purchase on her breast, teasing and kneading the soft mound with a deliberate touch.

Her moans become more urgent, her body arching into my hands, craving more of the irresistible pleasure coursing through her veins. The combination of our heated touches, the intoxicating taste of her skin, and the enveloping waters meld together in a symphony of ecstasy.

But in this intimate dance, where pleasure intertwines with desire, we also find solace in the connection beyond the physical. The way her body responds to my touch, the way she surrenders herself to the intoxicating pull of desire, fills me with a sense of awe and adoration.

Lost within the blissful depths of our union, we allow ourselves to be swept away in the torrent of fervent passion, exploring the realms of sensuality and pleasure with unabashed abandon. In this sanctuary of desire, our bodies entwined and our souls connected, we surrender ourselves to the boundless ecstasy that envelops us.Seeing her biting her lip, her eyes filled with longing and desire, sends a jolt of electricity coursing through my veins. Her plea for more reverberates within me, heightening the intensity of our shared passion.

With a newfound urgency, I respond to her plea, eager to fulfill her desires and push the boundaries of pleasure. I release her backside momentarily, my hand trailing up her thigh, teasingly grazing her intimate core with the feather-light touch of my fingertips.

A low, guttural groan escapes my lips as I witness her reaction, her body quivering under my touch. The hunger within me grows, matching the raw intensity of her own desires. Slowly, I slide my fingers along her folds, relishing in the heat and wetness that greets my touch.

As I find her most intimate spot, I apply a gentle pressure, aching to elicit the sweetest sounds of pleasure from her lips. With every calculated stroke, I stimulate her, alternating between languid caresses and more intense, purposeful movements, all driven by a shared hunger for ecstasy.

Her moans grow in volume, harmonizing with the cascading water and the symphony of our desire. I become lost in the symphony, allowing it to guide my every movement, my every touch.

Drawing her closer to me, our bodies intertwine yet again, our souls melding in the intoxicating heat of the moment. I capture her lips in a searing kiss, my tongue dancing passionately with hers, mirroring the rhythm of our bodies.

In this intense, passionate embrace, we lose ourselves in a whirlwind of pleasure. The water envelops us, merging with our bodies as we become one in the realm of desire. Unyielding in our pursuit of ecstasy, we surrender ourselves completely to the intoxicating current that consumes us.

With each moan and sigh that escapes our lips, our connection deepens, our desires merging into a singular force that propels us closer and closer to the edge. And as our bodies intertwine, the world around us fades away, leaving only the raw intensity of the moment, the symphony of our pleasure, and the unrestrained fulfillment of our deepest cravings.

Her passionate plea ignites a feral desire within me, an urgency to fulfill her every longing and to escalate our pleasure to its zenith. Her body trembles in my , her voice filled with a heady cocktail of need and surrender.

With a low growl of desire, I respond to her plea, driven by an insatiable thirst to please her. My fingers, slick and glistening, glide along her intimate core, exploring every inch with purpose and fervor. Each stroke is deliberate, calculated to send waves of pleasure crashing through her body.

As her moans grow louder, desperate in their intensity, I lean in to capture her lips once more in a searing kiss, our tongues dancing in a passionate tango. The taste of her, the sound of her pleasure intertwined with our shared desire, fuels the fires of our passion.

Unable to contain myself any longer, I position myself between her legs, pressing against her, aching to fulfill her deepest yearnings. With a single thrust, I enter her, driven by an overwhelming force of desire and love.

Our bodies move in perfect synchrony, a ballet of need and pleasure. With each thrust, I delve deeper into her, my movements guided by her gasps and the arching of her body. The sounds of our union and the lapping water create a symphony of pleasure, as if the very universe conspires to amplify our connection.

In this heated embrace, time becomes irrelevant, suspended in the haze of our passion. We lose ourselves in the dance, our bodies melding and merging, our souls becoming one in the relentless pursuit of ecstasy.

The room fills with the scent of our shared desire, the air heavy with the mingling of our sweat and the overpowering heat of our union. Our collective moans mingle together, an anthem of pleasure that echoes through the walls, shaking the very foundation of our senses.

As our fervor builds, I increase the intensity of my thrusts, relentlessly driving us closer to the precipice of bliss. The tension coiled within our bodies reaches its breaking point, and with a final surge of ecstasy, we shatter in unison, a cascade of pleasure coursing through us.

Lost in the aftermath of our passionate crescendo, our bodies intertwined and our spirits entwined, we bask in the aftermath of our intimate connection. The hot waters embrace us, soothing and comforting, as we linger in the tranquil aftermath of our desires fulfilled.

In this sacred space, we find solace and contentment, knowing that our love and desire are unrivaled. And as we hold each other, our breaths intermingling in sync, we relish in the knowledge that our fiery bond will continue to burn, igniting our spirits and guiding us towards even greater heights of pleasure.

#demon slayer #kimitsu no yaiba #flame pillar #rengoku kyojuro #kny rengoku #flame hashira #demon slayer rengoku #rengoku kyojurou #nswf post #kyojuro x you #spicy content #no minors allowed

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themangoverse · 11 months

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The Mechanical Sage and the Twelve-Eared Tyrant: Akshar and Kushagra

Day 3 of Desi LGBT Fest: Fear/Guilt

“This joy, this peace, this deep solace from your companionship, is my greatest fortune. My heart beats for you with a clumsy gangling stagger and it embarrasses me to share this with you, but you must know it, just as I must know the warmth of your fingers and the steadfast comfort of your lap. My cunning beloved, you have captured me, stolen me from my duties and orphaned me from this world. Your briefest glance is my skin exploding with warmth. Your shortest call is my soul rushing back Home. Your invitation is my hunger and your touch is my asthenia.

I live, not as myself, for the first time. I live, knowing the face of my Beloved, for the first time. I live, for the first time.

You must know it. You must know it now. Because now that I live, I think of dying.

What will it mean, when I lose this? What will it mean, when my desires do not have you hiding inside them? What will it mean, when your hands turn cold and you stop knowing the gracelessness of my untaught heart?

Will I loathe my freedom from your embrace? Will I lose my hunger and my fatigue?

When the last of your flesh is pecked away by the World and you become It, you will turn into Sorrow and when you do, balm of my heart, you must kiss my cheeks so that they are wet and burning. So that I could recognise you as the World again. So I could finally stop being so afraid.”

---

Akshar [the figure laying on Kushagra], is an immortal Sage. There are few secrets of the universe that he doesn’t know, yet he ponders Kushagra’s eventual demise and finds himself unsure of what will lay ahead.

Kushagra himself is the ancient (but much younger) king of the Air Kingdom, which he rules with an iron fist and a steelier heart. Yet, he has seduced the Mechanical Sage himself and regained his youth through partial immortality - but he is on borrowed time.

@desi-lgbt-fest

#the mangoverse #kushagra #akshar #art #Desi-LGBT-Fest #this is the second year ive tossed one pair of blorbos at a prompt #hope i manage to do more this month jhdbfjd #there's writing in this post please expand

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lavend3r-stardust · 4 months

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I wanna watch the moon with them, lay on the ground and link our hands so we can trace each others scars and blemishes and birthmarks, trail kisses down stretch marks and run our hands across our ribs to feel our hearts racing beneath them. I wanna see the stars reflected in their eyes and wonder what it'd be like to be lost in them forever, like seeing the sky stretch infinitely above, or how the ocean sinks to the bottom of the earth, endless and mystifying, almost beckoning you to come closer. . . All that beauty contained in their faces, and i'd never want to come back from there 💫

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the-desilittle-bird · 1 year

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Author's Note- I am glad to be back after so long. This is my first time writing for Bucky but I hope you all like it. Also I am thinking of a Desi OC series in HOTD universe.

Thank you and Enjoy your reading!

Broken Beings

Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader

Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader (Former)

Summary- He wanted a life with her.

Tag List- @bbgmonsay, @shopping, @girlnred, @hc-geralt-23, @chevelledahuman, @killing-gremlin, @minaxcarter, @tonystarksbitch, @formulapierre, @lastwandastan, @b-tchymoon, @instabul, @hukio, @Moon-light1415, @eudximoniakr

GIF Credits to @wadey-wilson

Love brings with itself the possibility of experiencing both the blooming happiness of forever or the greatest sorrow of infidelity. And it had seem that (Y/N) was always supposed to face the griefs of losing her loved ones.

She was merely 10 years of age when Maria and Howard Stark died in an "accident". Growing up without parent's love and support turned her into a cold being, only melting in the presence of the only known family she had known, Tony Stark.

The fear of losing her brother had triggered something in her, revealing a series of dangerous powers to her. Training them to bend at her will had been a process she enjoyed, because for once, she could control something truly by her own will.

Joining the Avengers had helped her in finding a new family. She knew nobody could ever fill the hole in her heart left after her parent's untimely death, but she had found a place she could find solace.

And then, she had found Steve. She had found peace and love in him; the promise of home. She had came to love him when Thanos came, and then... everything crumbled.

For 5 years, she had lived grieving those they lost in the war and in the snap; wishing to find a way to bring back all alongside Steve and Natasha. But had she known before that she will lose all she had, she would have never done it.

Losing Natasha at Vormir and watching Tony die after he had snapped his fingers, wearing the gauntlet which held all the stones in their glory, it all made (Y/N) more sensitive than ever before.

Her walls of security had crumbled faster than ever before, exposing to the Avengers and Steve, the broken girl she had concealed all her life.

She had cried all day, clinging to Steve like a baby, drowning in her sorrows. She had heard him speak sweet nothings and promises of a better future. All of her dreams of a family laced beautifully in his words of reassurance.

A house in midst of a place where no one could find them. She and him, married; forever each other's. Two children; possibly a boy and a girl. A small happy family, spending their lives in blissful moments.

All fake... all promises empty, all moments laced with lies. All declarations of love underneath the moon nothing but a lie.

He never came back from putting the stones in their respective timelines. Only returned the sting of pain in her heart. Only returned the empty place in her heart; in her body.

She remembered Bucky looking at her pityingly as she had smiled at Steve when he stood in the time machine, wishing him luck for the task in his hands.

She remembered Bucky placing a gentle hand on her back, as if to reassure her that he was there, when Steve hadn't came back.

"He wanted a life with her."

Bucky had informed (Y/N) softly, watching as tears welled up in her eyes. It had seemed that tears had became a constant partner of (Y/N), much to her agony.

Bucky still remembered the way she had crumbled in his hands, crying and wailing, whimpering and sobbing... grieving for herself; for Natasha; for Tony.

Bucky had whispered in her (H/C) hair, an apology. Maybe if he had not killed her parents that day, none of this would have happened. Maybe she wouldn't have been this broken.

That day, (Y/N) had slept for the first time in 3 days. Buckyhad stayed there, looking down at the woman who slept in his arms, and he could feel nothing but sympathy for her.

He had softly placed her in the passenger seat of her luxurious and expensive car, himself sitting on the driver seat, staring at nothing in particular but thinking.

Thinking about his life and her. Even though he had met her a handful of times where, most of the times, she was after his life, but then also, Bucky couldn't help drawing up comparisons between them. Their similarities.

She had woken up with a grumble and a hiccup. Eyes puffed and red, a name on her lips. The name belonging to someone who had already left this world.

Tony.

She had looked at Bucky with pleading eyes, as if silently asking him to take away all her pains, something he couldn't do it himself. He had only placed a comforting hand on hers. He hadn't expected her to place her other one on top of his, but he had smiled softly at her.

Both of them had sat there, in her car, in complete silence for hours. None had tried to speak, not even a word exchanged between them but yet, a lot was spoken in this silence.

Perhaps that was a start of something new. After all, new beginnings start from the ends.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barns imagine #avengers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rodgers imagine #steve rodgers x reader #winter solider x reader #the avengers

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autisticgeorgielinguist · 11 months

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warning for groom abuse mention

alicent is basically a repressed desi mom. I mean hotd in general is a desi drama. Girl raised on tradional values who is forced to conform and marry an older guy who treats her terribly but all she can do is remain silent because it is what is taught and then one day she realizes that the cultural values of family and tradition are absolutely meaningless and that her husband will never be grateful nor giving because he doesn't have to be. Versus Rhaenyra who rejects tradition and can only do so due to her enormous privilege yet this so-called freedom comes at a cost in such a society especially when she is surrounded by older men like her father who only began to care for her after basically killing her mother (aemma never wanted to be pregnant) and so she finds solace in her uncle who grooms and abuses her. Even Harwin who is atleast kind to her, she can never truly be with as it is taboo and yet even if he gives her three wonderful children, he can still never call them his own due to the risk. So what kind of freedom is that?

#alicent hightower #rhaenicent #autistic community #lady alicent

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starlightshadowsworld · 1 year

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... Fuck it desi Casey Jones

Casey who grew up playing on the streets back home and weaves through shady alleyways in this new city.

Casey who stumbles over English and prefers Urdu because its so much cooler.

He's definitely cursed people out and than smiled sweetly that he was just saying hi.

Casey who became a vigilante to protect his community.

Casey makes his own chai but knows its not nearly as good as his mother's.

Casey who has his mother's gold set stashed away and holds it like he's holding onto her hands.

Casey who does his sisters mehndi and wears a black kurta under his hoodie.

Casey who finds solace in master Splinter because he reminds him of his grandparents.

He says so and Splinter chuckles warmly.

Casey who took one look at Mikeys new pizza creation, stormed off and bought back his Briyani.

Because this my friends is quality food.

They loved it.

(Mikey bowing: show me your secrets oh food master)

Casey's favourite dessert is Gajrela.

Casey who reminces about being in Pakistan but smiles knowing he's found a new home here.

#casey jones 2012 #Desi Casey Jones #Pakistani Casey Jones #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012 #Mikey tmnt

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einsteinsugly · 2 years

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Steven Hyde: A Character Analysis, During and Beyond The Show

Based on @maxgrayarchived's "Are Your Characters Developed Enough?" Originally intended for OCs, but since I further develop the T7S characters beyond the scope of the series in a meaningful way, I'm trying my hand at it.

PS: One question was redundant in Hyde's case, so I omitted it. And another was more of a question for couples, so once again? Omitted it. And I combined a question, because I already answered it in another one.

*****

What does it mean for him to be in love? Someone who gets how he ticks, someone who helps him out when times are tough. Add the punch in the gut, romantic feelings, stability, and security, and he's golden.

What (who) is he attracted to? A 110-pound former cheerleader with pink toenails and a love for ABBA and Mariah Carey. He's only aesthetically attracted to the tough blondes with boobs, and that's it.

How's his family life? Better than ever. He hasn't seen Bud and Edna in a long time, but that's fine by him. He's got the Formans, the Barnetts, Jackie, and the kids. That's all he needs.

How's his social life? Solid. He's got Forman and Donna, Kelso and Brooke, and Fez and Rhonda, of course. He's got Buddy and his partner Vic, Leo and his son Paul, and Jackie's former co-host Manny and Sonia back in Milwaukee. Plus, Pastor Dan's brother Sam Easton and the manager of the Hyde Park Grooves, Desi Blake. And Colette's pretty cool, too.

What's his sexual and romantic history? He was with a plethora of girls before Jackie, from Chrissy to Kat, but none of them really mattered that much. Just sexual blips on the radar, until Jackie.

Jackie's his fuckin' everything, and he was more than willing to protect her against Kelso. Fine, he could be a territorial dirty dog sometimes, and he acted like an ass. He cheated on her with the nurse, brought Raquel to the basement, ran off to fuckin' Vegas and drunkenly married Sam out of pure vengeance. Wishing Sam was Jackie, when in reality? He still had a chance, until he blew it. And he was angry, and took it out on her and everyone else around him. Including himself. He fuckin' deserved this fate, just like Bud and Edna before him.

But the Formans and Donna helped him see the light. Forman and Donna were finally getting their shit together, and his foster parents wanted him to have a better future than his predecessors. So, with true grit and patience, he took the chance to improve his life, and ran with it.

So, as an older man, he looks back at his past self with particular ire sometimes. But the past is in the past, man. He can't change it, but he wishes he could. He earned Jackie's trust back, little by little, and he's never gonna throw that away again. Yeah, Hyde calls Kelso Gaston (from Beauty and the Beast), but that movie recalls a familiar story from the distant past. In the present, he's got his wife, Jackie. The kids, Becca and James. And life is damn good.

What's he skilled in, and what are his hobbies? He's smart, on and off the streets. He picks up anything a book or a situation has to throw at him, in the blink of an eye. He can also pick apart stupid arguments, particularly from dense politicians, with relative ease.

He's good at chess, playing cards, tinkering with cars (Jackie is, too), and he's learned how to play the guitar. He caught on quick, and he's taught the kids, too. Music is life, and his passion, though. It gets him through the good times, the bad times, and everything in between.

How was his school experience? He didn't try, and hung out under the bleachers. He's lucky he graduated, but school isn't really for him. WB made him take a couple of business classes, and that was fuckin' hell.

Is he an extrovert, an introvert, or an ambivert? An ambivert who leans on the introverted side. He finds solace in hanging out by himself or with his wife, listening to music. With Forman and Donna sometimes, too. And with the kids, Becca in particular.

Is he right-brained, left-brained, or balanced? A mix of both, and he channels what he needs to in order to get shit done.

What are his most prevalent strengths and weaknesses?

Strengths: He's a borderline genius, he's relatively patient and adaptable, and he thinks outside of the box.

Weaknesses: He can be vengeful, petty, and stubborn. He doesn't take well to structure, or rules. Not even some of the good ones. He's also emotionally stunted, given his childhood, but his heart's usually in the right place.

What are his goals and dreams?

As a teen: To fuckin' make it.

As an adult: To thrive, with his wife, his kids, and his friends by his side.

What are his fears and insecurities? To end up like Bud and Edna, to have fuckin' nothing to lose. With a massive chip on his shoulder.

What does he believe in? The system sucks, but he can find a way to weave in and out and make it better. Pounding the pavement, and trusting his gut. As a rebel, with a cause.

Who would he die for? His real family, and his friends. And whoever's in danger.

#that 70s show #that 90s show #steven hyde #jackie and hyde #jackie burkhart #red and kitty #eric and donna #kelso and brooke #my essays #eric forman

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