#filled with trinkets and lovely things from his travels

[messrmoonyy]

-What they’re like as your bf/gf (Hcs) 18+

Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Sadie Adler, Molly O’Shea

Request- Hi if it’s okay could I ask for some hcs of some of the gang and what they’re like dating with you? NSFW ones toooo🙈🙊 could you include Arthur, John, Dutch, Sadie, Javier and maybe any of the other girls Mary-Beth or Molly or Karen? Thank you 🙏🏻

A/N- I didn’t include Javier cause I like barely speak with him in camp or anything idk I don’t vibe with Javier tbh. And I saw my chance to word vomit my Molly brain rot and ran with it so she’s the girl I picked. Hope this is okay! Enjoy :)

Masterlist - requests are open :)

Arthur Morgan

- We’ve all seen how he was with Mary. He’d be besotted with you

- His journal would be filled with sketches of you, entries talking about how much he adores you, little notes about how you looked that day or musings about his plans for your future together.

- Definitely doodles a little heart with your initials too <3

- He’s touch starved. So he loves physical contact. A hand to your knee, your back, arm around your shoulders or your waist. He likes keeping you close.

- Brings you stuff from his little travels. Picks flowers for you, finds little trinkets for you.

- Keeps a picture of you by his bed.

- Forehead kisses!!!!!

- Kisses your hand. And kisses to your wrist. He loves when you reach up to cup his face and he can turn to press his lips against your wrist.

- He’s so much more than a tough, burly cowboy. He’s quiet, caring, considerate. And he adores you

NSFW

- takes his time. Likes to work at you until not a single tense muscle is left in your body. Worships you.

- Loves any positions where he can see your face, needs to be close enough to constantly kiss you and tell you how good you are for him

- “ there’s my girl, doin so good for me darlin “ “ jus’ like that darlin, let me take good care of ya “

- Not incredibly vocal, but the noises he does make he ensures are right by your ear.

- Refuses to finish before you ever.

- Loves to finish inside tho. He knows it’s risky, but he loves the closeness. And if he’s feeling particularly risky he’ll definitely push his come back into you with his fingers “ don’t waste it now “

- Grips The headboard.

John Marston

- he’s stupid. He really is. He’ll be head over heels for you, with you clearly reciprocating those feelings and he’d still think you didn’t like him like that.

- Like. You could kiss him and he’d still be like ‘ what are we? ‘

- When he does finally put two and two together he’ll have no shame or cautions in showing you off.

- He’s handsy. Likes coming up behind you when you’re washing dishes for Pearson to rub at your shoulders.

- Or pull you down to sit on his lap before you can even think about taking the empty spot on the log next to him by the fire.

- Overprotective. One tiny snide comment from anyone and he’s ready to start swinging.

- Definitely knows how to push your buttons and wind you up, and will do it just for fun and to get a rise outta you.

- And then spend the rest of day grovelling and apologising.

NSFW

- Loves going down on you. Like. Loves it. The man could spend hours there if you’d let him and Lord has he tried.

- Not very serious most of the time.

- Pretty vocal. And doesn’t really care if anyone’s listening either.

- Like i said, he’s handsy. His hands are restless and will grab at whatever part of you they can.

- Loves when you ride him and has absolutely made a cowgirl joke more than once.

- Will grab at your hips and guide your movements as you do. Told you he’s handsy.

- But also isn’t opposed to you on your back, legs over his shoulders. Presses kisses to your ankles and makes jokes about how good the view is.

Dutch Van Der Linde

- he’s not the most attentive of people at times. He’s constantly in his head and constantly thinking about things that aren’t you.

- But when he does allow himself time alone with you he is disgustingly charming.

- He always knows what to say, always knows the right words to have you melting into a puddle at his feet. You could be in the worst mood with him but a few whispers in your ear and it’s all forgotten.

- Has a million terms of endearment for you. My angel, my dear , my darling. He rarely ever uses your actual name, only when he’s mad.

- Loves to give you gifts, the more expensive the better. And he likes you to show them off too. He likes to show you off.

- Reads to you a lot.

- PDA is afraid of him. He doesn’t care where he is or who’s watching him, he’ll loop an arm around your waist to kiss your neck, pull you onto his lap when he’s reading beside his tent and kiss you. No shame.

NSFW

- will take his time with you but in a far different way to, say, Arthur

- He’ll edge you and overstimulate you for hours, because be gets off on the fact that you simply let him. That you obey his every command.

- Degrading and humiliating 🤝🏻 Dutch Van Der Linde

- He’s never too mean. And his degrading comments are more often than not laced with something sweet.

- Dacryphilic. 100000%. He loves watching you cry because he’s worked you into such an overstimulated mess.

- He’ll swipe your tears away or kiss them from your cheeks “ well isn’t that just a pretty sight? “ “ those tears for me, my angel? “

- Definitely has some kind of authority kink. Likes you calling him sir for sure.

- Loves you giving him head. Just loves you on your knees. It’s a power thing. And he’s a cocky son of a bitch.

- Sat back in his chair and won’t lift a damn finger to help you out, won’t even unbuckle his belt. And don’t tell me he doesn’t smoke whilst he watches you.

Sadie Adler

- She is absolutely not shy about her feelings when she finally accepts she has them.

- Shes just so sweet to you.

- Around camp she’s stuck to you like glue. Her arm is permanently around your waist or your shoulders, or her hand laced with yours and is ready to snap at any intrusive questions from anyone else about it at the drop of a hat

- Love language is gift giving. Just taken in a bounty but found a shiny lil necklace in his pocket? Well. It’s hers now. Or should I say, yours.

- If your hairs long enough she’ll braid it like hers, any excuse to be able to sit close to you and whisper sweet things in your ear.

- Would teach you how to shoot better, she wants to make sure you know how to defend yourself. but also wants the excuse to stand behind you and show you how to hold her rifle properly.

- Big spoon.

NSFW

- Sadie’s gained control over literally everything else in life, and it doesn’t change in the bedroom

- She trusts you whole heartedly but she’s not about to give up any sort of control to you for a While

- Makes sure she can see your face at all times, loves watching your face contort and relax in pleasure that she’s giving you

- Full of praise “ ain’t you just the prettiest thing? “ “ oh look at you! D’ya know how pretty you look from here? “ “ always such a good girl for me “

- Has a thing for putting her fingers in your mouth. Especially after she’s just fucked you with them.

- Having you on your knees eating her out drives her crazy. Will pull at your hair a little too hard but will soothe the sting with a thousand words of praise about how good you make her feel.

- And now hear me out. Loves to watch you. Will book you a hotel room together just so she can sit across the room and watch you touch yourself for her, encouraging you the entire time

- It’s never long before she absolutely has to have her hands on you though in the end.

Molly O’Shea

- sheeeee has some trust issues. And abandonment issues. She’s just… she’s a lot at times.

- But she is fiercely loyal and will love you with every fibre of her being

- And she wants to be loved as fiercely in return. She’ll spiral without constant reassurance “ d’you even love me anymore? “ “did I do somethin wrong? Haven’t told me you love me today “

- She knows deep down you do love her. She’s just afraid.

- She is such a romantic. She loves holding your hand, sitting close to you, doing your makeup like hers and stealing kisses in between painting your lips red

- She’ll write you sappy romantic poetry and leave you lil notes

- You’ll often overhear her gushing to other people about how in love she is too. She just loves to talk about you and how deeply she adores you.

- Likes when you give her forehead kisses.

NSFW

- Pillow princess. End of story.

- She’s not completely submissive though. She’ll tell you what she wants and what she likes

- She just wants to be taken care of okay. She needs to be taken care of.

- Makes the softest, sweetest sounds and will tell you she loves you a million times over.

- Enjoys when things just… naturally happen. Cuddling with you at night, but pushing her hips lightly back against you. Which usually ends with your hand slipping past her waistband and making her come on your fingers.

- Likes to be on top of you sometimes, simply so she can show off whilst she strips. Not to really do anything. Shes really not that much of a giver. She likes being watched. She likes to know she’s desired. And usually it ends up with you dragging her to sit on your face.

- You have to shower her with praise. She wants to know she looks beautiful, that she’s doing well, worship her. Which is incredibly easy for you cause like fucking look at her she’s gorgeous.

- Wraps herself around you when you cuddle after, legs intertwined and arms around you, head buried in your chest or neck. Pls my sweet baby needs to be held.

#disclaimer as always with hcs #these are my thoughts and not to be taken too seriously #don’t get salty if you don’t agree. #my hcs for any character seem to draw at least one salty person out #it’s fic! enjoy it! #arthur morgan x reader #Dutch van der Linde x reader #molly O’Shea x reader #John Marston x reader #Arthur Morgan #molly o'shea #sadie adler #john marston #dutch van der linde #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #x you #fluff #smut #sadie adler x reader

[sinner-as-saint]

heartless

Incubus!Bucky x Witch!reader (fantasy au)

Run-through: You learnt about them when you were young. You had tomes filled with information about them, how to invite one, how to control one, etc. You also knew that if done right, union with an incubus was said to result in the birth of powerful witches. And now, after having spent years all alone following the unfortunate slaughter of your family you have two strong desires; to have a child and to continue the witch bloodline. Both of which can be fulfilled by summoning and making the right arrangements with the right incubus. And the best part of it all, incubi were known to be incapable of love and emotional attachment, so ending the arrangement once you conceived wouldn’t be hard for either parties involved. Except, it’s not always that easy, is it? And perhaps, not all incubi are heartless. 

Themes: breeding kink, smut, fluff, incubus!bucky, witch!reader, size difference, he has wings and a tail, some angst, HEA

a/n: nothing is folklore accurate whatsoever just excessive imagination and vibes hehe 

You were prepared if ever it was not going to work the first time. 

You’d been told, when you were a young woman who had just begun learning about the art of witchcraft under your mother and grandmother’s supervision, that incubi were particularly stubborn and picky demons. They were strong, seductive with vigorous stamina. 

Given their power, they aren’t summoned. No. They are invited. And if they are feeling mischievous and generous, they accept the invitation. Sure, most incubi visited weak mortals of their own volition however they did avoid witches. Because the power dynamic there was more or less in equilibrium. Incubi couldn’t mess with witches like they did with mortals because witches were strong and smart enough to mess with them right back. 

Still, you had made sure that everything was just perfect. You had countless tomes and books and scrolls on your table, all containing multiple ways of inviting an incubus. So many rules to follow. But you had done everything right; every rune, every herb, every incantation, every offering - to complete the invitation you had always been taught to lure them with something they’d want. Other than sex. 

You had been told certain secrets other witch families did not know. Like how incubi, though ravenous, had a weakness for embellishment. Trinkets. Shiny things. So you offered this one a crown made of gilded animal bones. 

You had everything in place. All that was left to do was wait. So you sat there, in what you called your workshop. You had a quiet little home in the middle of the woods. Well away from the kingdom of the vile King who had your entire family eliminated after using your powers and cures to save his wife from a terrible disease. For years the King was kind to your family, but one day, his wife died of natural causes, none of your doing but still, the King went mad and ordered to have your family slain. You managed to escape, unfortunately your mother and grandmother couldn’t. 

So you ran far, far away from the kingdom. Got on a ship and travelled to a new country. Here people were welcoming and kind. No kings and queens, just people living together in harmony. So with what little money you had, you bought a plot of land and built a house. You had neighbours, but since you all had a large country all to yourselves, everyone was scattered rather far and wide from one another. 

This country was unlike anything you’d ever heard or dreamt about. You had friends here who did similar things like you; warlocks, necromancers. Then there were the mermaids in the lake, and the fae people living in the same woods as you, centaurs and wolf shifters lived deeper in the woods, and so many more you still had to meet. There were no wars here, just peace. 

But peace, after some years, started looking a lot like loneliness. During the initial years it seemed like you could do this forever, run your little shop, help your new friends when they needed you, socialise and learn about so many new people and animals, you thought you could spend a lifetime just being here and being happy. But then, as much as you adored your friends and neighbours, you missed family. Your own flesh and blood. And after years of living here and making sure that this was the happiest and safest place to have a family of your own, you wanted a child. And what better way of ensuring to pass on the gifts of your powerful bloodline than this. Besides, witches lived for a very, very long time and you couldn’t imagine spending centuries all alone. 

You had envisioned your dream life often. Since witches most often had daughters, you often dreamt of you and your daughter living in this lovely place. Your home was spacious enough to accommodate around five people easily so you’d have more than enough space. You would build your daughter her own little workshop table. You’d teach her everything your mother and grandmother taught you, and all that you learnt by yourself. You’d watch her grow up and make friends of her own, maybe she’d like the faeries and the mermaids more. Or maybe even the gnomes. Or the pegasus in the meadows. 

Maybe someday down the line you’d have another child. And you’d raise them both with the same kindness and love that your mother had with you. And life would be perfect then; with your girls, your friends, in this peaceful country. 

If only… 

“Such pretty dreams you’re having, little witch.” 

A deep, smooth voice said. Sounding like it wasn’t too far from where you were… sleeping? Had you actually fallen asleep at your desk while waiting? You woke up startled, blinking at the demon in the room who was casually lounging on the chair by the window. The same chair on which you sat and read during the afternoons. 

Except, the demon made the chair look smaller than it was. The chair still accommodated him well enough, but he was bigger. Broad shoulders, wide leathery wings folded behind him, long legs… he was surely taller than most of the people here. Shorter than the giants, but still. You had read that incubi were bigger in height and built and… other assets when compared to mortal men but seeing him in real life was still a little shocking. 

Every other feature of his was mortal-like. Deep blue eyes, slightly darker here in your candlelit workshop. Pretty face, you noticed, if not a little arrogant looking but it suited him. Well defined features. Soft mouth, perfect nose. And he was slightly tanned. You thought he’d be ghostly white, with near translucent skin given there wasn’t any sun in the depths of hell that he came from. He also had shadowy, near black markings all over his hands, chest and some creeping up his neck. Swirls and symbols, and it only made him look even more dangerously attractive. 

The candlelight reflected a little on the shinier parts of his large, leathery wings and you shivered a little before speaking, after clearing your throat. “You came.” You simply said and watched how his mouth twisted into a handsome smirk. 

“How could I not?” He said, sounding cocky. “You gave me a proper invitation. And offered me such a pretty crown,” He twirled the gilded crown between his fingers, and added, “And such soft, delicious bread.” 

Your face contorted in confusion at the sound of that. “Bread?” 

He nodded, still toying with the handmade crown, “Forgive me, I didn’t save you any. I was famished. Butter and honey, was it?” His voice sounded like a purr, like a lover’s caress. Dangerous he was, this one. The handsome ones usually are if you remember your notes correctly. 

You blinked at him once, twice and then looked down at your hand and sure enough, there it was - remnants of the butter. You had been nibbling on homemade bread as you waited earlier, but given that you fell asleep at your desk, the bread must have fallen out of your hand, rolled and landed near the runes. Had you messed up? You couldn’t have. He was here, wasn’t he? 

The demon gave you another arrogant grin, “I assume the bread was a mistake.” 

You stood up from your chair and thought well before speaking, “I apologise.” You said. Even though it is always said to never seem shy and docile in front of the likes of him. You were supposed to assert dominance. But… how could you when he was looking at you like that? Himself looking all regal in all his naked glory. 

He chuckled. Chuckled. Then said, “No matter.” You noticed he remained seated. He said, “I heard your invitation, heard what you wanted from me.” He paused for just a second and noticed the way you squirmed. Then continued, “I appreciate your gifts, witch.” He admitted. “So,” He spoke in the voice which was equivalent to a lover’s soft caress again, “A child?” 

“Yes,” You said firmly, finally able to stand your ground and act like the powerful witch that you were. “A child.” 

He nodded slowly, “I can’t say I’ve ever encountered a motherly sorceress before. Most of them are nasty and cruel.” He spoke with such honesty. It was refreshing almost. 

You managed a faint smile as you looked down at the rings on your fingers, many of them were passed down to you, the others you had handcrafted, “Most of us develop a hard exterior because of how we are treated by most mortals. Half of them are afraid of us and the other half despises us enough to hurt us for no reason.” 

He cocked his head to the side, “Who hurt you?” 

“A King. He… hurt my family.” You answered. 

“Hence the empty house.” He noted. 

“Yes.” You said, finally looking up to meet his deep blue stare. He was… devilishly handsome. Even as he sat there looking all princely which should’ve irritated you because it was your favourite chair. What if his devilishly strong body breaks it? 

But then… 

Then he stood up. Proud and tall. Other parts of him stood proud and tall as well so you couldn’t help but look down, following the many muscles on his broad chest, down to his navel and down to his jutting cock. 

Holy gods. 

He was very, very well endowed. It took some seconds before you moved your shamelessly leering gaze up to his eyes again. And then… holy gods, he was tall. Taking up much more room now that he was standing up in the middle of your, what now seemed cramped, workshop. 

He smirked as he looked down at you. Crossing his muscular arms over his chest he said, “I assume I am to your liking then?” He teased, obviously enjoying the way he had you tongue-tied. 

You looked up at him nervously. You’d never done this before. And now, standing in your dimly lit workshop, wearing your black flowy black robe, the demon did make you feel a little subservient. “I… um, yes.” You struggled to answer, struggled to hold his lordly stare. 

You mindlessly took a step back the moment he began approaching you. Steadily, slowly, letting you see all of him before he came to a stop only inches away from where you stood, near your desk. 

“Well then, little witch. Shall we?” He said, before placing his warm hands on either side of your waist and lifted you up to set you down on the edge of the desk with ease. You never quite realised how strong incubi were until now. They were some of the strongest demons of Hell. 

You were sat on the edge of your wooden desk, legs dangling off the edge as you looked up at him. Only then did you notice his slender tail, as it wrapped around your thigh which was now exposed due to the slit in your black robe. 

The demon seemed to inhale deeply before saying, “You smell absolutely delicious.” He stepped in between your legs, spreading them as he placed both of his hands on either one of your thighs. “May I have a taste?” He asked, slowly pushing your back down on the surface of the table so you lay on it, with your legs still hanging off the edge. 

You nodded. “Yes,” You murmured, watching him lean over you for a moment before he pulled your robe up to your waist, taking in the sight of your bare body under it. 

He hummed in appreciation which shouldn’t have made your body tingle the way it did. Then he grabbed you by the hips and lifted your lower body off the table with ease, enough so that he could comfortably bend and place his mouth right where you didn’t realise you’d been aching for him to touch. 

Your legs hooked easily over his shoulders as his ridiculously soft lips brushed against your inner thighs before you felt his warm, long tongue slide in between your wet lips. He somehow managed to spread your legs even more, leaving you completely at his monstrous mercy as his tongue teasing your entrance, lips sucking on your clit. Damn him. But at least now you understand why most people let incubi feed on them. It’s because their touch was this addicting. 

Your hands rested on either side of your head, limp on the table as you threw your head back and moaned, unable to stop yourself. He growled against you, sending pleasurable vibrations all over your body. His tail remained wrapped around your thigh, slithering along your skin in tandem with his devious tongue as he ate you out ravenously, savouring your taste while holding your heated stare. 

His strong body in contrast with your more mortal-looking one. His hands and arms, covered in those shadowy markings gripped your thighs securely, keeping you spread open for him. He almost made you forget the reason he was here was beyond just pleasuring you. “You taste exquisite, little witch.” 

He knew he could only take minimal energy from you. Mortals were left drained after incubi were done with them but you were stronger, and with your protective wards around you, you didn’t feel as drained. Neither did he feed on you like he would on a mortal. Still, you felt a little delirious, almost euphoric as he tasted you. 

You gasped and moaned as he almost made you come all over his tongue. You’d let yourself go under his irresistible touch. It was high time to get to business. “Don’t forget why you’re here, demon.” You managed to say before he slid his tongue inside you once more before pulling away and placing your lower body back on the wooden table. 

“Of course. You need more than just my tongue, little witch.” He teased, keeping your legs wide open for him as he reached down and easily tore the rest of your robe off your body. You noticed his eyes got darker as he grabbed and fondled your breasts. 

His shadow filled hands slowly trailed down your bare body. He reached your folds and once again teased your clit with his fingers, slowly sliding his one finger down your slit to your opening. His other hand grabbed his cock, guiding it over to your hole. You were drenched down there, he noticed. He was in a mood to play so instead of just sliding into you, he teased you by sliding his tip up and down your slit. 

He rather enjoyed watching you hiss, and whine and whimper, and squirm on the tabletop. “You are going to have to put in some effort to fit me inside you.” He said, purposely pushing his tip against your tight opening, just applying enough pressure to make you lose your mind but not quite enough to slide in just yet. 

Your voice trembled as you spoke, “Don’t… don’t play with me, demon.” You tried to sound as assertive as you could. But you ended up sounding like you were begging him to keep playing. 

“No?” He cooed, almost in a mocking tone. “But you make such pretty sounds when I play with you.” 

You arched your back, moving your hips forward, desperately trying to get his cock to slide inside you. You whimpered when he kept teasing you. “Please,” You murmured. Damn this demon and his enchanting touch. 

He smirked. “Very well then.” He slowly pushed the tip of his cock inside of you, carefully watching you to gauge your reaction to his size. You felt his length stretching you like no one ever did. You gasped and moaned as he filled you up.

He grabbed your bent legs and spread them open, pushing them as far back as they would go before burying his cock fully inside your tight, warm hole. He held your stare the entire time, even as he pulled out and pushed back into you. 

You gasped for air, the snugness of him feeling unbearably good. With your back flat against the wooden table top and you whined at the feeling of his cock moving swiftly in and out of you. You could feel your walls gripping him and milking him as he pounded into you. 

“You feel just as good as you taste, little one.” He whispered as you threw your head back and moaned, feeling him moving in and out of you to the point where the only thing you could focus on was the snug way he felt inside you. 

His large hands grabbed you by the hips, lifting your lower body just inches off the table and pulling you in each time he pushed inside you with enough force to drive you insane. Then… then you felt something pressing against your clit, rubbing it in sync with how he moved against you. His tail. The flat end of it, sliding across your sensitive clit while he fucked you. 

You cried out loud, somehow managing to hold his stare as you slowly felt your brain getting foggy with intense pleasure.

“Look,” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly, as he lowered his gaze to your lower abdomen. You followed his gaze and let out a gasp of both surprise and bliss. You watched how each time he pushed into you, a soft bulge formed against your stomach. “You’re so soft and delicate.” He said, his voice steady and calm as if he wasn’t rutting into you like an animal. 

Mindlessly, you placed your hand right where the bulge formed each time and you felt it against the palm of your hand. You cried out in pleasure again.Your legs trembled as he held them spread open for him, not willing to let them go yet. 

You closed your eyes as you felt your walls clenching around him and the pressure around your lower body felt tight and hot. The handsome demon looked down to where you clenched around his cock. And he sped up, moving the desk along with his thrust and causing books and scrolls and pens to fall carelessly on the ground. 

Somehow, it felt like he fucked you deeper now. Faster. His damned tail moved against you in equal vigour, flicking your clit until you cried out again. He chuckled, watching you nearly come undone beneath him. So he leaned in and said, “Should I fill you up nicely now, little one?” 

His voice, the surprising warmth of his body, the feeling of him inside you, the candlelight which made him look like a wild god. You whined, and said, “Yes, please.” 

He smirked, letting go of your legs and instead leaned over your body so he could get close to your mouth. His hand grabbed your wrists and pinned them down on the table, above your head. This close, your breaths mingled. His heated stare, his warm body pressing against yours while his other hand reached up to toy with your breast. “So soft,” He whispered. 

For some reason, that was all that you needed to hear, all the stimulation you needed to come undone, clenching around him violently as you did. He held your stare through it all and soon after, he spilled inside you too, grunting and gasping for air. 

Your back arched off the wooden table as you felt his warm release filling you up. He pulled out a little and pushed inside you one more time before stopping, properly emptying himself inside you. You were still whimpering and moaning as he pulled out. You could feel his release slowly trickling out of you. 

You closed your eyes for a few moments. And you fully expected him to be gone by the time you caught your breath and opened your eyes. But there he still was. 

He picked you up from the table, cradled you in his arms and asked, “Where’s your bed?” 

You lifted a shaky hand and pointed in the general direction of your bedroom, just outside your workshop and he began walking towards it. He stopped outside the dark doors and nudged them open with his broad shoulder, walking into your bedroom. 

No one had ever been in here. Wherever you had your neighbours and friends over for dinner or the afternoon tea, you hosted them in the kitchen or the other rooms. He was the first person to ever walk into your bedroom and honestly, he didn’t look that out of place. 

Your bedroom was spacious, mainly dark except for some candles which thanks to your magic could be left unattended and would never burn your house down. 

“Here,” He placed you down in the middle of your bed and said, “I’ll take your leave now, little witch.” He spoke, smirking as he let his eyes roam your bare body one last time before turning around. 

You reached out and grabbed his wrist before he would fully turn away. You managed to say, voice a little raspier now after all that moaning and gasping earlier, “You… um, in case this doesn’t work the first time around,” You spoke, hoping he read in between the lines, “And if I find myself in need of your, uh, help again. Would you come if I call?” 

He grinned. “Of course. No need for shiny crowns next time, just leave out some warm bread.” He left you with a playful wink and a handsome smirk. And then just like that, as if the shadows of your room swallowed him whole, he disappeared. 

—

For the following week that passed by, you paid extra attention to your body and with the help of your magic, you’d know if conception occurred. But also, you couldn’t bring yourself to forget the demon. 

He’d been just as energetic and thorough as you expected him to be. But… he had also been much more gentle than you expected him to be. The bread incident made you giggle quietly to yourself now that you thought about it. And you did think about it each time you baked. 

You were extra nervous the next time you sent out an invitation to him. The conception hadn’t happened, as expected because they rarely work the first time. Which meant that you needed the demon again. So as you waited for him to show up, awake this time, you found yourself feeling unnecessarily giddy. 

You not only tried to lure him with your best bread this time, but also a cloak. Not that you minded his naked form but… you felt the need to give him something nice. Not quite like a payment, just a gift if you will. You had made the cloak in a way to accommodate his wings comfortably as well. And those broad shoulders, and strong limbs, and-

You were lost in thoughts of him when a voice spoke up from the corner of the room, “A cloak this time,” He noted, grinning already. “I think you like me quite a lot, little witch.” 

You smiled at him. Your heart almost skipped a beat at the sight of him. The handsome demon came wearing the crown you’d made him the last time. And he looked like a god. Naked, golden skin, shiny crown, dark wings and those shadowy markings all over his skin. 

“It’s just a way of thanking you for, you know, helping me.” 

You didn’t feel so nervous when he approached you this time. You let him come closer until he was standing in between your legs again as you sat on the edge of your desk. He placed his large, warm hands on your thighs as if it were a habit and his tail wrapped around your calf, squeezing just a little to remind you of last time. You shivered at the memory. 

“But do you?” He asked playfully. 

“What?” 

He gave you a cocky grin. “Like me?” 

Well that came out of nowhere. You chuckled, “Yes. I wouldn't have sought you out again if I didn’t.” 

He smirked. Then reached out to touch your face so gently that for a moment you forgot he was a demon from Hell. “I take it that you need me to fill you up again, little witch?” He asked so brazenly, while your face felt hot. 

You managed to say, despite your racing heart, “I do. And I’ve even come up with a plan in order to ensure that it works this time.” 

He raised an eyebrow at you, “What plan?” 

Your face heated up again as you said, “I suppose for it to work this time around, maybe you shouldn’t, um, pull away so soon after…” 

“Ah.” The demon’s smirk denoted that he understood. “I see.” He said, “So you wish for me to remain buried deep inside that tight warmth of yours after I’ve filled you up.” He said, purposely just so he could watch you squirm. “I can do that.” 

A sudden confidence shot through you, “Good. That is precisely why you are here, demon.” You sassed. 

The demon chuckled before reaching out to grab you carefully by the jaw. His actions were slow and gentle, as if worried he might accidentally hurt you. “Careful with that mouth of yours.” He hissed playfully, “Don’t you know what happens to pretty little witches when they run their mouths like this?” 

You held his stare, playing along, “No.” You whispered, “What happens to them?” 

He leaned in and whispered against the corner of your mouth in a sinful voice, “They get pinned to the wall and fucked until they cannot think straight.” 

You felt your heart racing faster. Your thighs desperately wanted to clench together but he wouldn’t let that happen. His tail slowly moved up and down your leg, stroking your skin and making you crave his touch even more. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this, right? You were supposed to just take what you needed from one another and that should’ve been it. But… you didn’t mind this. 

His mouth moved along your cheek and you lost your ability to speak. He kissed along your jaw and down your neck, then he said, “I can hear your heart racing, my little witch. Tell me, is that what you want?” He kissed along your collar bones and the top of your breasts. “Do you want to be pinned to the wall and fucked by a cruel, greedy demon like me? Hmm?” 

“Yes…” You managed to whimper. “Please.” 

He scoffed, kissing his way back up your neck before he reached your mouth again, “Alright, little one.” He breathed against your parted lips and moved the two of you with such ease and speed that all you did was blink and you found yourself away from the desk and now naked and pinned to the nearby wall, bare legs wrapped around his torso and his mouth pressed against yours. 

His wings spread wide behind him, blocking the candlelight from reaching the two of you and shrouding you both in unnatural shadows. Almost as if he couldn’t bear the thought of anything else touching you except for him and his darkness. Not even light. 

Your hands wrapped around his broad shoulders, pressing you tightly against his firm body as his mouth moved against yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth, making you moan into the kiss as he undid the tie of your robe, letting it slip down your body until it fell to the floor. 

His large hand cupped you in between your legs and he pulled away from the kiss, grinning at you like the Devil himself. “All that for me?” He asked, sliding his knuckles along your wet folds, smearing your arousal around. “How very immoral of you. Spreading your legs and getting all wet for someone like me.” 

You whined when he slid a finger inside you, followed by another before he curled his fingers inside of you, hitting all the right spots which make you weak in the knees. You bucked your hips against his hand involuntarily, and he chuckled as you moaned out loud while he touched you.

“Are you ready for me now?” He mumbled, kissing down your neck, nibbling on your skin around your collar bones. 

“Yes,” You cried out when he wrapped his mouth around your breast, sucking just enough to drive you wild, making you grind your hips against him, chasing whatever friction you could get. 

His cock briefly brushed against your wet folds in the process and you whimpered. You felt his body tense up against you as well and a quick moment later, he aligned his tip to your dripping wet hole and slowly pushed in. 

His fingers dug into your skin as he held you by your hips, and yours scratched at his shoulders as he filled you up like the previous time, making you whine and moan as he went. His body was familiar now. His heat, his scent. The sound of him breathing, his warm chest pressing against yours. And when you looked down, you already knew you’d find that bulge forming against your stomach each time he buried himself all the way inside of you. 

When he began rocking in and out of you, your body remembered. The stretch of his thickness, the snugness of him, the way he started out with slow strokes and then gradually sped up into you. It was all familiar. Except this time, you could feel his back muscles moving along with each thrust of his. Each movement of his reminding you of the sheer power his sinful body contained. 

“You feel even better than last time, little one.” He said as his devious tail reached up and wrapped around one of your breasts, pumping it before moving to the other one, and repeated. 

His strong arms supported you up by grabbing you at the curve of your ass, holding you against him, as he sped up into you. He fucked you relentlessly, with a little less caution this time. Your back hit the wall with each thrust and you couldn’t stop whimpering, whining and moaning as he fucked into you with the intensity only a demon like him could. 

Your hands somehow slid beyond his shoulders, grabbing onto the base of his large, dark wings. He stilled. Then supported you up with one hand thanks to his devilish strength, while the other pulled your sneaky hands away from his wings and pinned them above your head. He began fucking you again and said, flirtatiously warning you, “Wings are extremely sensitive.” 

That only intrigued you even more, but all that for later. You needed him right now. And you needed to come. 

He leaned in and nibbled at the skin under your ear and you lost all control you had left. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was how his body brought you immense pleasure, your mind a foggy mess. Your clit rubbed against his stomach each time he buried himself completely in you, and he soon quickened his pace, earning even more moans and gasps from you.

Your legs started to shake around him as he quickened his pace, pounding into you relentlessly. The pleasure built nicely as he took you higher. The bulge in your stomach forming and disappearing quicker now. Your moans were wanton. 

“Ready for me to fill you up again, little one? Hmm? You’re going to be so full after this,” He whispered, leaning in just so his mouth would brush against yours as he spoke. “Perhaps you’ll still feel me in between your legs when you wake up tomorrow. Is that what you want? Huh? Is that why a pretty little witch like you invited a filthy beast like me? Because you wanted to be so full.” 

You couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came undone around his thickness. Walls clenching around him, nails scratching down his shoulders and chest as loud moans escaped your mouth. He came right after you did, cock throbbing against your pulsating walls before he filled you up with his warm release. Pumped you full of it until you could feel it inside you. 

And just like you’d instructed him earlier, he didn’t pull away immediately. He caught his breath for a few moments before he moved, keeping you pressed against his chest, still buried deep inside you he pulled away from the wall and walked out of your workshop, towards your bedroom. 

You felt a soft pinch inside your chest at the thought of him being so comfortable with moving around in your house. 

He opened the bedroom door, still holding you close to him as he carefully laid the two of you in your bed. He barely fit in your bed which was in fact made to hold two people. He pressed closer to you as you both laid on your sides facing each other. “Are you alright, little one?” He asked softly. With genuine care. 

You blinked at him lazily, feeling boneless because he’d worn you out. “Hmm, I’m alright.” You whispered, feeling his tail stroking your leg as if comforting you while his hands held you close to him. 

He gave you a rare, soft smile. Then said, “Tell me about your shop.” 

You smiled and answered, “Well, it’s a typical witch shop. I sell crystals, candles, herbs, and medicine. The children get hurt often, especially when they play in these woods, so I sell stuff that heals them even quicker. I have special crystals, laced with magic to help my friends shift quicker. The mermaids love them. The dragon folks up on the mountains love them too. The wolves wear them around their necks like necklaces.” You paused, “Why do you ask?” 

He shrugged, the movement also moving him while he was inside you so you whimpered in pleasure. He pulled you closer, kissing your forehead as if apologising and answered, “I’m just curious about your community here. It all seems so… peaceful.” He said. 

“It is.” You gave him a faint smile. “Everyone is welcomed here. A family of moth people just moved in down the creek. They have the most adorable little children.” You giggled. “And-,” You stopped abruptly at the sight of the longing and slight envy in his eyes. “What is it?” You asked, sensing the shift in his demeanour. He seemed sad. 

He gave you a faint, fake smile. “I’m just thinking about how nice it must be. To be accepted for being whatever you are. To have friends and not have people look at you and run away screaming.” 

Your heart ached for the handsome demon. You reached out and laid a hand on his cheek. “I’m sorry.” You whispered, sincerely. “Is it that bad where you’re from?” 

“It’s lonely.” He answered truthfully. You knew the feeling all too well. 

Your thumb instinctively began stroking his smooth cheek. “And you can’t leave.” You stated, suddenly feeling very bad for the demon. 

“Oh we can leave. I know a few of my kind who have left and moved elsewhere, but it’s not common.” He said, “There are not many places where beings like me are accepted.” Then he smiled and said, “I’m not like you, little witch. I have no skills. There’s nothing I can do to contribute to a lovely community like this one and have its people accept me as one of their own.” 

You chuckled, “Well, I’m sure we could find something for you to do.” You said, “You have wings and can move at incredible speed, maybe you could be a mail carrier.” 

He laughed. Truly laugh, louder than he ever had. And he looked like a god while he did. His boyish laughter echoed around your bedroom and if you could bottle up the sound and keep it forever, you would. 

When he finally stopped and looked back at you, you could’ve sworn you saw something resembling affection in his eyes. “You truly are something, little witch. I’m very glad I met you.” For some reason, his words felt like goodbye. 

And then it hit you. If you managed to conceive this time, maybe this would be goodbye. You snuggled closer to him, refusing to think about that right now, and said, “And I’m glad I met you, demon.” His wing wrapped around you and you fell asleep some moments after, cocooned in the warmth of his body and wing. 

—

When you woke up in the morning, he was gone. The entire day went by in a blur. You worked at your shop, met up with your friends for afternoon tea, made yourself dinner and then you went back to bed. And repeat. 

It was only two days later, when you sensed something different about your body did you realise that it had happened. You were expecting. And your heart sank, solidifying the fact that you would never see the demon again. It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did, but you couldn’t get rid of the sadness. 

But that was the initial plan, was it not? So what if you’d miss his handsome face, his cocky humour, and his touch. This is what you wanted, a baby. And now you were going to have one. And yet, you couldn’t help but miss him. 

You thought the absence of him would not matter in time, but weeks later, it felt the same. Each time you made your bed, each time you baked, each time you saw a couple walking hand in hand, everything reminded you of the surprisingly kind demon. 

But then one evening, as you returned home from your shop, you sensed something different in the air the moment you stepped inside your house. 

And something stirred inside you, that pinch in your chest, the way your heart fluttered. You knew. 

“You’re here.” You whispered, shutting the door behind you. You placed your basket down and waited. And then, as if he stepped out of shadow itself, one moment he was nowhere to be seen and the next, he was standing a few feet away from you. 

Wearing his dark cloak and his golden crown. He looked like a forgotten, ancient god. One so handsome anyone would willingly worship at his altar. “I am.” He answered, looking at you with sad eyes. 

You held his stare and both of you were quiet for a while. You hadn’t invited him tonight. It had been weeks since you last saw each other and seeing him right now, it hurt. It hurt even more because he seemed… lost, hurt and confused. And you didn’t know what to do. 

Then his eyes trailed down your body, stopping around your midsection. You smiled and placed a hand on your abdomen, even though you hadn’t started showing just yet. “It worked,” You told him. “I’m expecting.” 

“I see.” When he looked up to meet your eyes again he looked even more miserable. And heartbreakingly alone. 

“Well,” You said cheerfully, hoping to make him feel a little better. “I was going to make dinner, would you like to join me? I even made fresh bread.” You said, smiling up at him. 

He gave you a faint smile, noticing how you weren’t asking him what he was doing here. He nodded, following you to the kitchen and the cosy dining table. 

–

Dinner went well. The conversation flowed. He asked you about your neighbours and friends, and your shop. He laughed at your jokes and you laughed at his. Yet once you were both done with your food, the tense silence was back. 

Then, while he helped you put away the dishes he said, “I wanted to see you.” 

You placed the last plate down and then turned to look at him. “I’m glad you came.” He was so tall that you had to extend your arm up completely to be able to touch the shiny crown on his head. It warmed your heart that he wore it. You smiled and asked, “You really like that crown, don’t you?” 

He smiled back at you and said, “It’s my favourite gift I’ve ever been given.” 

“Do you show it off to everyone?” You asked, teasing him. 

His smile fell a little. “I have no one to show it off to.” He stated. 

Your heart broke at the sound of that. You couldn’t help but lean in and wrap your arms around his torso. He was warm, his body heat wrapping around you as you hugged him. “I’ve missed you too.” You said. 

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer and kissed the top of your head. “Can I stay for a while?” He asked, and the softness of his voice made you tear up. 

“Of course you can stay,” You said, then pulled away to look up at his pretty face. “For as long as you wish to.” 

So you and the handsome demon found yourselves on that favourite chair of yours, with you on his lap. You tried to read but then ended up engaging in playful banters with him until you slowly drifted off to sleep right there on his lap, with your face nuzzling his neck. He had his arms wrapped protectively around you, reminding you a lot of how the dragons guarded their hoards. 

So you fell asleep, dreaming of random things until… 

You were in the meadows. The sun was about to set so the sky was nothing but golden and pink and purple. But you weren’t alone. A little girl was holding your hand tightly. 

Your daughter? 

You looked down and she was barely tall enough to reach your knees but she squealed in happiness, pointing up at the sky. You followed her small finger and found a dark spot in the pink and purple sky above. A dark spot, like shadows, that grew and grew until it looked like it was getting closer and closer to the ground. It was. He was. Mighty wings flapping in the wind as he flew above you in circles until he landed on the grass with a loud thud. 

Your daughter dropped your hand and ran to him, to her father. And he picked her up, holding her high up in the air, laughing as she giggled louder than ever, before hugging her close as he walked over to you. Once close enough, he bent down to kiss your forehead, curling a wing around you. As if it were a habit. As if he’d done it hundreds of times. 

“Let’s go home, my love.” 

You woke up, and immediately pulled away to meet his eyes. Incubi could infiltrate dreams with ease. And your handsome demon had done just that. 

You held his stare in silence for a while. Then you managed to ask, voice a little shaky, “Is that- what you just showed me, is that something you would want?” 

He grabbed you by the hips and pulled you even closer, “You are what I want.” He whispered, inches away from your lips. “You and…” He placed a hand on your not-showing-yet stomach. “Her. And however many more babies you would want from me. I want everything with you.” 

Your eyes watered, and you managed a faint smile as you said, “And here I was taught that demons were heartless.” 

He chuckled, and grabbed your hand and brought it up to his chest. He placed your palm down on the material of the cloak, right in the middle of his chest and said, “Feel that?” He pressed your palm against his chest. And you felt it, the steady beat of his heart. “I forgot it was even there. Until it began racing the other day when I thought of you.” 

You blinked away the wetness at your waterline, sniffled and said, “How poetic of you, demon.” Then you realised, “I don’t even know your name.” 

He laughed again, eyes filled with adoration as he looked at you. “I don’t have one. Then again, my name can be whatever you want it to be.” 

Your heart doubled in size just looking at him. “Are you sure you want this? You’ll have to pull your weight. I’ll make you do chores.” You teased. 

He smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “Anything you want me to do, I’ll do it.” He smirked then added, “I’ll even carry mail around if you want.” 

You couldn’t help but lean in for a kiss. A deep, passionate kiss. One that made him growl possessively against your mouth before he claimed it with enough passion that had you undoing the buttons in the front of your dress as quickly as you could. 

He helped you in getting rid of your long, flowy dress. Then as you straddled his lap properly, he shrugged off his cloak and dropped it on the ground. And all it took was one silent, pleading look from him and you bucked your hips against his, your wet core rubbing against his erection and he grunted. His hands rubbed up and down your sides lovingly. 

“Don’t tease me, little witch.” He whispered mischievously against your mouth, your warm breaths mingling. The fact that he was willing to just sit there and let you take whatever you wanted from him turned you ravenous. 

You lifted off his lap and slowly lowered yourself down on his cock, or tried to because you still had trouble taking him given his size. But with a little help, he grabbed you by the hips to keep you in place and he pushed up into you. Making you cry out as you finally began sinking down on him. Somehow, he felt bigger this way and your body resisted just a little to fit him inside. 

An arrogant smirk formed on his pretty face as he watched you struggle for a while. “Do you need help, little one?” He asked, and once you nodded, looking at him with pleading eyes, he grabbed your hips in place and gently began thrusting his hips up into you until you found a pleasurable pace. 

When you felt that your body could take it, you began moving against him. Lifting up just the slightest, before sliding back down on his cock, you whimpered as he groaned, snug inside of you. In this position, the tip of his cock reached sensitive places you never knew existed. 

“You’re so warm,” He whispered, his eyes locked in place where he disappeared inside you each time you moved. Lust-drunk, both of you. You leaned in closer, cradling his head as he took one of your breasts into his mouth while his tail wrapped around the other. 

Crying out in overwhelming pleasure, you moved faster, impaling yourself down on his cock each time. You whimpered shamelessly as you felt him filling you up completely each time, feeling him reach deeper into you with each thrust. 

His hand slipped between the two of you and he placed his palm against your abdomen. Your heart melted as you remembered the dream you just had. You cupped his face and he released your nipple to look up at you. Nothing needed to be said, the sincerity and adoration in his eyes spoke volumes. You leaned in for a soft kiss, moaning against his lips as his hand circled around your waist and he pulled your warm body closer to his. 

He felt warm from deep within. Warmth he had never felt before. Your lips brushed against his each time you moved up and down his cock. He mostly let you set the pace and he took whatever you gave him, only guiding you up and down his cock when you needed him to. 

You pulled away, bouncing on his cock as you stared into his pretty eyes. He whispered gently about how perfect you felt around him, wet and warm all for him. He panted against your cheek, kissing the side of your face and gripping your jaw with his hand. “You’re mine,” He whispered. 

“And you’re mine.” You didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, and he kept thrusting his hips up into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came, hard, feeling your walls squeezing and clenching around him. 

He came right after you, his warm release filling you up once again as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed your warm body closer to him. “I’m gonna take care of you.” He promised.  

You smiled, pulling away to look into his eyes. “You’ll never be lonely again. I promise.” You sealed your promise with a kiss on his forehead and he couldn’t have smiled any bigger. 

“Do you have to go and bring back all your belongings?” You asked, kissing down his face until you could nuzzle his chest. Secretly not wanting him to leave even for just a minute. 

“I don’t have any. All I have is the crown and cloak you gave me.” Something about that made you tear up as you looked up at him. He smiled at you, pulling you closer. 

You sniffled, snuggling closer to him. “I'll make you a drawer full of clothes and cloaks. Some pants too. Maybe even a hat or two for when it gets cold.” 

He laughed, kissing the top of your head. No one had ever cared for him this much, let alone a fraction of this. And in that moment he knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you, and the family that you two would have soon. “I’ll love you till the end of time, little witch.” 

“And I you, demon.” You wrapped yourself around him, placing your ear right above where you thought his heart would be. In the middle of his chest and there it was, his steady and strong heartbeat. 

— 

Part 2  (just in case you wanna read more about these two)

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes #demon!bucky #marvel

[screeching-bunny]

hi love ur work sm

can we have part 3 of yandere General i wanna know how their life after marriage and how he treats her

Yandere! General pt.3

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

Pt.2

You were afraid of your new husband and Yandere! General was well aware of this. He knew that after everything he's pulled it would take a while before you could fully love and trust him. Surprisingly, after getting married he starts to become softer and would often do acts of service for you. Although he was a lot kinder to you, you were still wary of him and tensed whenever he was around. Which is how you were right now, laying bed with your husband as stiff as a board. Yandere! General was currently big spooning you as he slept and whenever you tried to wiggle out, his grip only kept on getting tighter. You had a feeling that he was probably still awake and was just doing this on purpose. Every night he would do this as if he felt comfort in knowing that you were trapped in his arms. There was nothing that you could do about it so you just let it happen.

When mornings would come he would always make sure to wake up bright and early to cook you some breakfast. Even though he has maids to do the cooking he won’t let them, this is because you once complimented his cooking and he’s been living this high for a while. Surprisingly, he has really good cooking skills and it never fails to amaze you each time. Due to traveling and his many battles during war in other countries he knows a wide variety of recipes. He’s always whipping up something new for you each time. If he can, he always makes sure to whip your food into a cute shape for you to eat. It’s a part of his creative process so don’t question it.

As time goes on you begin to warm up to your husband due to how soft he is with you. After all, he did stop you from marrying an old man and from your family so you honestly can’t complain too much. On weekends, he likes to take long strolls hand-in-hand through the meadows and tell you stories about his many adventures. Sometimes, the two of you would engage in mock "strategy battles" in the garden where Yandere! General would always allow you to outwit him. Another thing that he enjoys is going on picnics with you, where he would playfully lift you up as the two of you crossed a little stream. Yandere! General loves dancing under the moonlight with you and he'd twirl you around like you were young sweethearts on their first date. He just finds you really adorable and cute.

Yandere! General can’t be home all the time due to his job and would make sure that you’re well taken care of when he’s gone. Will leave small notes for you to find from him all over the mansion like a treasure hunt. He makes sure that it’s damn near impossible for you to have any chance of escape and hires people to monitor your every move. When he’s out in war he’d make sure to stop by any shop that catches his eye to buy any clothes, accessories, trinkets, etc that he thinks that you might like.

Soldier: “Sir, what do you think our next course of action should be? ….. Sir?”

Yandere! General: *currently window shopping for you*

Soldier: “....”

Everytime he arrives back home he makes sure to never come back empty handed and will always bring back flowers for you. The flowers are proudly placed in the middle of the dining room table. He cherishes quiet nights by the fireplace, reading books and sharing laughter. He’d have you read aloud the book that you’re indulging yourself in so he can enjoy it with you. Occasionally, you would even fall asleep on the couch, wrapped right in his arms, reminding him of the peace he found with you. He lives for moments like these and when it's time to take you to bed he’d walk in circles in the living room just to hold onto you a little longer.

Fall is filled with the two of you making leaf piles that he would throw you into. During this time of year the two of you harvest apples together so that he can bake you an apple pie. Winter time is filled with joyous hours where the two of you would build snowmen, engaging in friendly snowball fights that often ended with laughter and playful kisses in the snow. During the springtime you are bombarded with many flowers and homemade chocolates. Then the two of you would plant flowers in the garden together. In the summer, when the fireflies adorned the night sky, Yandere! General craftily builds you a swing in the oak garden. Where the two of you would spend countless evenings gently swaying back and forth, laughing like carefree children, and promising (totally not Yandere! General forcing you to say this) to stay together, no matter where life's journey took you.

When he feels stressed, he comes to you for comfort. He finds solace having you in his arms. To him it feels like you're a haven of peace and love. He only shows his soft sides to you and never to others. Dislikes it when anyone sees him that way and would gouge out their eyes if they ever did. Isn’t very transparent about the things that are bothering him, he’d rather not have you stress or worry about it. Views you as something that’s delicate even if you’re not and believes that he can break you anytime he puts too much strength in you. Which is also another reason why he keeps weapons away from you.

As I said before Yandere! General is the type of guy who likes to maintain order and likes when his rules are followed. Make sure to absolutely never piss him off. So as long as you follow them and don’t disrespect him then he’s a fairly good husband but if not then he’s very harsh on the punishments. Follow his rules unless you wanna say goodbye to one of your legs.

#yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere oc #yandere general

[ghouljams]

I wonder how many mythology facts Professor Price would have to drop for Professor Witch to look at him while he’s following her around campus. Just take a peek at him pleaseee Witch he’s begging 🥺 he’s reading all this mythology shit for youuuu. He’s leaving all these little pagan trinkets around that he’s found for youuuu

The comparative religion (Witch) and history (Price) are two perfect sides of a coin. I bet they have the most sexy, intellectual conversations. I need to be a fly on that wall. I love your brain.

They teach so many joint lectures...

There's one class, almost impossible to get into because it's so small and fills up so fast, a joint taught class by Witch and Price on the Trojan war. Going in depth on the history and mythology around it, the religious aspects, the impact it had on the way we mythologize warfare and tell battle stories. It is a passion project for both of them and they trade off lecturing each class only because when they're together they will not stop debating whether or not the trojan war actually happened. It's the most sexually charged class anyone has ever sat through and does end up with Witch pinned to the desk while she and Price make out. Jaws are on the floor, everyone goes home and stares at their lecture notes like "how am I supposed to write a midterm paper on this?"

They have so many overlapping students and cross listed classes. Everyone knows that there's something going on between them but no one wants to ask. Witch seems too young for him, but then you take her class on medicine in religion and realize she's probably found the fountain of youth, then you take Price's modern warfare class and realize he's just prematurely aged from active duty; suddenly you have no idea how old these people are. (Mommy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry.)

Price leaves little things he's picked up from his world travels on Witch's desk, Witch leaves baked goods outside Price's office. They bicker over religion's place in history and warfare's place in religion. Price settles his hand protectively on Witch's back while they walk across campus. Witch gushes about how smart Price is during lecture, offhandedly mentions it's unfair when smart people are as handsome as he is and then moves on like she didn't say anything.

Witch calls him captain outside his office and he has clear his throat and adjust himself, much to the dismay of the person who'd been swinging by for office hours. Nobody knows what's going on with them.

#x oc #cod x oc #oc: witch #captain john Price #professor au

[writella]

Trinkets; The Gifts of Gold He Gave You

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

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

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

Trinkets moodboard & visualizer here!

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

A Bow from a Bowman

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” You asked calmly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Turnpikes, Gunshots, and Dreams

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

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

You’d grit your teeth and get on regardless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Flying Away With You

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bet you could.” He meant it.

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

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

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

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

Trinket No. 4: The Flower and the Photograph 𓇢𓆸

Back Pocket Memory

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pretty girl.

Handsome man.

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

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

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

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

“Daryl,” you whine.

He says it straight this time, “No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Never Fade Away

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh somberly, “You didn’t?”

“Didn’t see you in the window.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Definitely a chick’s.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is the only me you know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” He wipes his nose.

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

His snorts, “I’m not doin’ that.”

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

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

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

He nods, “Okay.”

“Promise?” You sing.

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

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

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

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

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

You agree, never fade away, please.

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

You wished for each other.

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

The Things I Only Trust You to Know

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

He saw you crying.

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

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

“Don’t gotta be.”

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

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

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

“Just say it,” he said calmly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then you’re wrong.”

You shake your head.

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

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

He nods.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, I was.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re not gonna find it tomorrow.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Confessions From a Broken Bowman and a Battered Beaut

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,” he mutters.

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

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

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

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

“I left you-”

“You didn’t know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It aint.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re worried, “What happened?”

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

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

“How long have you had that?”

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

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

Daryl doesn’t argue. This is him trying, he takes the win.

He doesn’t know how to put it nicely in your hair, how you do it with the different styles, so he just wraps all of your hair in a ponytail, just like last time, tying it into a bow.

It feels like a gift, not just because he gave it to you and not because it looks like a decoration on top of one, but it is all of it— this moment, the conversation— it all feels like breathing new life into something you worried might be slowly withering and dying. You exhale, it felt so nice to feel him so close, to feel his fingers run through your hair, to feel his breath on your skin.

“Think maybe this suits you better now,” he says, and maybe it always has.

He leans back against the wall and you lay your head and back in the crux of his knees and chest. You look up into his eyes and he does the same right down at you. There was more work to be done, more fighting to endure, but for now, you lay there as if you were the only two in the world. In a moment of sweet understanding; in a moment of love. You could finally admit it to yourself now, you were absolutely and monumentally in love.

… I could go on forever ♡ perhaps this can be a mini-series where I post one when I think of another and you can feel free to request a trinket you think Daryl would give the reader and I’ll post it and respond or even write a blurb for it and add it to the list if it’s a good fit! Thank you for reading. ⋆｡°✩

#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

[cupids-chamber]

❝ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒.. .ᐟ ❞ Shall we look underneath the tree? And see what he got you..

GENDER NEUTRAL READER A/N: Ortho's part is strictly platonic, each part is different. Also, I do not think I wrote the letters well, but I did smthing!!

— MALLEUS

Matching charm bracelets, engraved with the date the two of you first met. One of the greatest moments of his life. Small little dangling charms of Gargoyles attached to each bracelet. And if you squint your eyes, and check behind the heart charm, you'll find the engravings "M.Dracona +Y.L/n"

— LILIA

A scrapbook of all the memories he had shared with you, each page filled with your favorite colors and aesthetic. He put a lot of effort decorating everything just for you..

— SILVER

A small album, filled with all his favorite moments with you. He couldn't think of anything better, it seemed like the best gift.. A album of all the best memories he shared with you..

That's not to say that all the memories and moments he has created with you were bad, he loved all of them! But their are particular memories that fill him up with immeasurable warmth, and he hopes you'll feel the same.

— SEBEK

Sebek couldn't figure out what to give you, something that could highlight and really show you how much he loves you.. that's when Lilia pitched in a idea to him...

Sebek's gift was filled with multiple letters, in a handmade/hand painted box, the letters were filled with sweet messages for anytime he may have upset you.. He's not the best at expressing his love, but he hopes this gift could provide you some comfort..

— IDIA

He personally hands you the gift, it was a photo frame of sorts, a small blue bow displayed at it's front. The device flipped through photo's of the two of you together, and it held gif's and whatnot.. Attached with a audio box of your favorite songs.. "I made it myself.."

— ORTHO

A perfectly wrapped gift was displayed underneath the the tree, inside there's a small figure of you and Ortho holding hands, he didn't know what to give you, to be exact.. so, instead he choose to get you something sentimental.. He heard from a certain somewhere that sentimental gifts were much more thoughtful then others!

— KALIM

Kalim decided not to go too grand for the scenario, giving you a multitude of gifts would erase the sentiment of a gift in general..

Instead he choose to give you a few small handmade trinkets, and small things he saw you eyeing, efficiently showing that he pays attention to where your eyes travel when going out shopping or on dates.

— JAMIL

A small bracelet with your birthstone, he didn't quite know how to leave a lasting impression with his gift, but he knew he was happy for your birth.. so the aspect of a birth stone suited the scenario well..

— RIDDLE

A customized pen, with a small spell attached, so you can change the smoothness and colour, it's pretty friendly with people who want to learn cursive..

It'll have his name engraved, in a place where he assumes you wouldn't have noticed.. The gesture itself was lovely!

— TREY

A beautiful large basket, filled with all sorts of pastries.. Savory and spicy snacks. Everything specialized to your tastes, he paid close detail as to what you preferred eating when creating the basket, it was sure to last you for quite the while.

— CATER

A personalized acrylic map, it displayed the date of your first ever confession, and the place. The painting could have used a bit of work, but the gesture was filled with love..

— DEUCE

The gift box was black, with a blue spade on the top instead of a bow. The ribbon was carefully done, to have the gift look as pleasing as possible.. Inside you could find a music box, with a message! It read:

"To my dearest partner, I can't really express how I feel within words but you brighten up my day Seeing you smile makes me smile.. I love you"

— ACE

Couples bracelets, that looks like handcuffs. It's a stupid joke, when you ask him he'll say, "Then we'll literally be attached together". The joke may have not been what you expected, but the gesture was cute.

— VIL

A personally hand picked and assorted candle set, he finds candles extremely calming, and uses them when he needs a light stress reliever, he's been noticing you felt a bit stressed lately.. maybe it was Crowley? Regardless.. he can't have you dying on him, can he!?

So, he took the time and effort to make you a personally assorted candle set.

— ROOK

A collection of small bow pins, and whatnot.. Things to go on your hair, etc.. Essentially, a box of trinkets, that follow a hunting theme, some were cute bunnies the others were a variety of things!

He hand picked the trinkets, to make it all the more meaningful!

— EPEL

And engraved wood sculpture of an apple, carved with beautiful details.. The wood work was utterly beautiful, the gift would be wrapped in a small white box, with a sparkly purple ribbon..

A small note would be at the front:

"Not to be sweet or anything.. The design is inspired by my heart racing.. Whenever I speak with you"

— AZUL

A mini piano, it's completely playable. Yet it seems like it came out of a doll house, it's custom made to match one similar to what Azul has.. Something you have witnessed Azul playing first hand..

— JADE

A small necklace, in the shape of a letter.. In the back of it a small note and declaration of love was written, signed off as J.Leech.. (Yes these exist)

— FLOYD

A stunning art piece of you.. in puzzle form.. The trick is that there are over 1000 pieces.. And the two of you will need to work together to put it together..

Halfway through he'll get slightly bored, but since he caused this mess.. and he's doing it with you.. He'll enjoy it.

Plus your focused face is cute.

— LEONA

He's not good at sentimental gestures and whatnot, and definitely sucks in this category of giving. So, he decided to give you a necklace, engraved with his name of course..

He is your al-mighty Leona Kingscholar. (Who will never be king)

— RUGGIE

A handmade 30 day, scratch off.. Each day, you'll scratch and find a goovy picture of you two together, or a sweet message he wrote to you..

At the very last day, you'll find a small letter, it'll be a letter where he expresses his more vulnerable side, writing down how he truly feels for you..

— JACK

A personalized gift box, once unfolding it there will be many compartments you can open up and read notes, letters, quotes, etc from your lover!... As for the gift, he had a given you a handmade candle!

© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation from me.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #silver x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #idia shroud x reader #ortho shroud x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #jack howl x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt x reader #epel felmier x reader #twst silver x reader

[kxttqi]

HHihihi love your writing !!

Can I req the pjsk boys with a gf thays an absolute simp?

Like shes got plushies, posters, keychains and all sorts of stuff of char

Shes also super short and cute and can sometimes be super lazy or super bubbly

Basically unpredictable

ty <3

✧ pjsk boys with a fangirl s/o.

summary: they visit your room filled with plushies, posters and other trinkets of them for the first time

pairings: akito, rui, tsukasa, toya x fem!reader (separately) 

genre: fluff

warnings: kinda suggestive in rui’s part depending on how you interpret it

a/n: waaa this was such a cute prompt, thank u for requesting!! i sorta rushed toya's part pls forgive me toya fans

— requests are closed

shinonome akito

when he walks into your room for the first time he literally just stands there in the doorway like 😦

he’s so flustered seeing all the posters and plushies of himself situated around the room 

he can’t stop smiling when you enthusiastically take him by the arm to give an impromptu room tour

like he tries to act all calm and indifferent but inside he’s just whwhsnjhdwkh

​​he reluctantly admits the plushies are cute, but when you offer him one, he awkwardly refuses

and then you go to put it back and he’s like “hey, wait, I was joking!” and wrestles it from your grip

♪ "You really went all out, huh?" he frowns, but there's a playful glint in his eyes. Deep down, he's touched that you've dedicated your room to him. 

He tries to keep up the act, shooting you a sidelong glance with a half-smile, but it's evident that he's struggling to keep his composure. His cheeks tint with a subtle shade of pink, and he's fighting to suppress the grin threatening to break free. It's a strange mix of embarrassment and flattery, seeing how much you appreciate him. 

“Come on, Aki, you know you love this!” you say.

Finally, he sighs, the corners of his lips betraying a genuine smile. 

"Alright, alright, you win. But only because it's you," he admits, his eyes softening. "I never thought my face would end up plastered all over someone's room. You really know how to catch a guy off guard."

You grin.

"But," he continues, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "I know a thing or two about catching someone off guard too." 

Before you can respond, he closes the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a playful yet sweet kiss. As he pulls away, there's a teasing smile on his face.

 "Consider us even now.”

kamishiro rui

OML THIS MAN WILL NOT STOP TEASING YOU ABOUT IT

the moment he sees all of your merch of him he becomes cocky af

he would definitely make you more stuff to add to your room

he’ll try to redecorate your room a bit for you, putting up posters and hanging lights (under your guidance ofc)

secretly steals some of the plushies when he leaves because they’re cute 

 forces brings tsukasa over to your room just so he can see the huge collection of items

♪ “Oh? Looks like someone can’t get enough of me…” Rui giggles, placing a kiss on your forehead as his arm snakes around your waist. 

“Do you like it?” you ask excitedly.

“Why wouldn’t I? They’re all me, after all.”

You cross your arms at his arrogance, but can't help the smile that tugs at your lips. Rui had always been confident, but since stepping foot into your room, it seems to have grown tenfold.

He pulls you closer, his hand resting on the small of your back. "But you know what would make your collection even better?" he asks, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Ooh, what?" you ask, intrigued.

"More of me," he says with a smirk, his gaze traveling to your bed filled with plushies. "Maybe a body pillow?"

“Rui!”

“Hm? I’m sure you would enjoy it.”

tenma tsukasa

tsukasa.exe has stopped working

after what seems like eternity of silence he just goes AHSAHSJAKAK (the typical tsukasa scream yk)

IMMEDIATELY gives you a big hug; he matches your energy so well

 if there's a poster with him in it, then he'll love standing in front of it and striking poses for your amusement

sits on your bed and pretends to be one of the plushies just to hear your cute laugh 

♪

“My eyes have been blessed by the sight of this glorious shrine! I am unworthy of such devotion, and yet, here it is!" Tsukasa dramatically threw himself onto the plushie-covered bed, hand over his heart.

"Tsukasa, you're being a bit—"

"Shh! This is my moment of gratitude!" He interrupted, eyes sparkling with mock sincerity.

"Okay, I'm listening," you said with an amused smile.

He clasped his hands together, looking up at the ceiling as if addressing the merchandise gods. "Thank you, [name], for bestowing upon me this sanctuary of Tsukasa. I shall carry the weight of this honor with the grace of a thousand swans and the dignity of a soaring eagle. May the Tsukasa vibes forever resonate in this hallowed space!"

You burst into a fit of giggles, unable to contain it any longer. Tsukasa, satisfied with his grand thank-you speech, looked at you while beaming.

As the laughter subsided, Tsukasa gently cupped your face, his fingers tender against your skin. He leaned in, closing the gap between you with a soft, lingering kiss. 

“Thank you so much, [name]!”

aoyagi toya

he takes in the room for a few moments before breathing out a soft “wow”

it srsly means SO much to him when his s/o is his biggest fan

he reaches out to touch some of the items, almost as if to confirm that it's real.

♪

Eventually finding his words, Toya turns to you with a soft expression and says, "Thank you. This... means a lot to me."

You smile cheerfully.

“You deserve it, Toya! You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

"You didn't have to go through all this trouble for me," he says softly.

You shake your head and pull him into a hug. Toya hesitates for a moment before returning the hug, a genuine warmth in his embrace. 

"You're worth every bit of trouble," you assure him, the sincerity in your voice echoing your unwavering support. "Seeing you happy and appreciating this makes it all worthwhile.

As you hold each other, he speaks, his voice muffled against your shoulder, "I just... never expected someone to believe in me this much. It's a bit overwhelming, you know? But in a good way. …I love you."

#꒱ kat's journal #pjsk #pjsk x reader #akito x reader #rui x reader #tsukasa x reader #toya x reader #shinonome akito x reader #kamishiro rui x reader #aoyagi toya x reader #tenma tsukasa x reader

[batsvnte]

𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 — 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧 , 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞

pairings! Jing Yuan & Blade (separate) ;; Black gen!reader (They/them) ఌ angst w/comfort, platonic relationships ఌ cw! mc is mute, implied use of sign language, blood + mention, death implied on Blade’s part, ooc maybe, spelling mistakes/improper grammar, not proofread ఌ synopsis! A new soul is tasked to guide spirits to finally cross with peace ఌ song rec! All is Soft Inside - AURORA

Xenos’s notes - I kinda just downloaded a bunch of games last night for no reason. This was mainly inspired off of Spiritfarer and I love that game sm.

With Jing Yuan, he found you intriguing.

You were neither dead or alive. You were an soul that was wandering among the universe to find ones that were lost. Most of were strangers that you have never met before. Few of them were family that you long lost since you had started traveling the universe. Everywhere you had been, except for the Xianzhou Loufu. The natives were long live species, and a spirit had warned you that it wouldn’t be necessary to go to Xianzhou. Solely because of the dangers that lurked around the corners.

Jing Yuan barely even sees you. You haven’t visited for nearly 500 years. Since there was problems arising of the fallen becoming mara-struck and immortalized to never be able to pass, there was nearly no point of you coming back. Which brings a surprise to the Ten-Lord commission of the whispers that you were here. One thing leading to another, here stood Jing Yuan in your vicinity with your back turned to him.

“Spiritfarer..” His voice was smooth yet filled with an sense of wonder. Giving an his infamous smile as he caught your attention. “What brings you here to the Loufu?”

His gaze turns over to the woman next to you. One who was always accompanying you on your journey through the universe (aside from the little white lion cub that was tailing after you). She explains what the situation was and why you were here. It was apparent that you needed supplies for the spirits and the ship at hand. Mainly food since one had been so curious about the Xianzhou.

It was a moment of silence for Jing Yuan. Thinking over what has been said as he kept his gaze locked onto you. In your hands, you were carrying a basket of goods. Who knows how much longer you would have to stay. But he might as well help you with whatever tasks that you need to get done.

Jing Yuan was an man of patience. He enjoys hearing about what type of people you’ve met on your own and what it was like within the universe. The general loves all the trinkets you show him, showing a feign of amusement when you had showed him the bottle of lightning that you accidentally brought along. This, of course, doesn’t go unnoticed by Yanqing who had came into the gardens during the midst of you showing the lightning bottle to Jing Yuan. He made a little note to later make sure that you weren’t by yourself when it’s raining. Especially when Yanqing was with you.

He was aware that all of your tasks were complete for the time being. Yet as you two bid your farewells, he snuck a little gift onto your hand without you barely realizing it. It was a golden pendant with the linings engraved into a lion. One that reminded you of the lion cub that you shamelessly had to drag away from Mimi countless of times due to it wanting to bother her.

“Till next time, spiritfarer—“

He was nearly cut off by the sudden embrace of yours. Jing Yuan was caught off guard by this. Seeing how you were tightly hugging him as if you truly didn’t want to depart from this world. He gave a gentle smile to you as he wrapped his arms back around you. The small height difference was good enough for him to lift you up, squeezing you tightly. It almost felt like forever before you pulled away from him. Everything was at peace with him.

But with Blade, you couldn’t tell what he thinks.

Every so often there was a chance of running into him. It was never when he was alive, nor really dead. He was struck with mara and immortalized with no key way of knowing what can truly kill him. The first few times you ran into him, you managed to stay some distance since his body was constantly moving but also fading. He was on a thin line of Life and Death, but you both always knew what side he’ll always be on.

You lost count at the amount of times you’ve seen him. With an shaky sigh, you racked up the courage to approach the man who was lying face down on the ground. Nudging him gently to at least get him to acknowledge you. Which indeed worked out since he turned his head over towards you. Blade’s gaze was on you in an instant.

Were you someone who was here to harm him? Blade was on on the verge of his last breath but he couldn’t run away from danger of the world. Even in the state that he was in.

Your arms snakes under his torso. Trying your best to lift him up and help him to his feet or at least sitting up so you can get a proper look at him. The lion cub that was by your side watches as you helped Blade to be in an upright position. He didn’t do anything to protest against it. His silence was enough to know that he wasn’t done with the life he was bear to live. And yours was enough to know that you couldn’t do much for him.

It was a little cycle that happened. You would find Blade on the verge of death, and it would lead to him being brought back to life due to the mara almost immediately. On rare days you would find opportunities to get to at least know who he was. When his body has been too damaged beyond immediate repair, the time you shared will be longer as well.

It was one of those days. He was sitting alone in an empty ally. His body fading in and out at random moments, and this time with you by his side. The mara was always the one cause of his memory loss but he felt solace with you. He couldn’t remember fully of what you’re like. He knew that you weren’t a threat to him. He knew that you were an important person. But he just can’t remember much about you. Even when he did it was when he was alive and breathing well.

Blade’s eyes were consistently tracking your hand as the other was holding a snack for him to take. It didn’t matter if he was a spirit or a living being, you still offered food and water for him to take.

You paused briefly before turning your fully attention over to Blade. A solemn look upon your face that he knew. It was almost time for him to go. He watches as you stretched your arms out a little as if you were implying for something. He tilts his head towards you in response, debating whether if he should accept or not.

Blade knew it wouldn’t make much difference but he raised a hand a few inches from the ground. Letting you do what you wanted to do. Within a few moments, you wrapped your arms around him. Your embrace was warm which made him feel much more at ease than he was before. Though his body tense up slightly at the gesture. He was use to it, but he had an fear of causing any harm to you.

It took his a few moments for him to return the hug. Wrapping only one arm around you since the other was damaged badly. Resting his chin ontop of your head with his eyes closed. He felt you squeezing him tightly as if you were begging for him not to go.

Once he opened his eyes he was in the same place before. Only that you and the little lion cub was gone from your places. His body healing himself to make him conscious of what was happening in the living world. He feels the mara stirring within him once more. Blade casted his eyes elsewhere, the warmth of the hug slowly fading as if it was just a memory he made to give himself some sort of comfort.

He must’ve died. How marvelous.

#— ghouul frights #hsr blade #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #blade x reader #platonic relationship #blade hsr x reader #jing yuan hsr x reader #i got a little detailed on Blade hakcjdowkfl

[wiltedreamofbaldursgate]

A Gift That Keeps on Giving

characters: Astarion x race/spellcaster fem!Tav/reader word count: +1.6k Rating: T read on ao3 FF Masterlist This hasn't been beta-read.

Astarion is an absolute menace when it comes to celebrations, especially Winter Solstice. Merry Christmas! ♡

Astarion had been driving you to the brink of insanity, which wasn’t anything new to you; over time, you’d gotten used to his antics. 

The weeks leading up to the Winter Solstice, however, had been something entirely different. 

The pale elf had become unbearable, positively so. 

One would think the Winter Solstice celebration was, in its essence, a simple affair. You decorated your house with evergreen and holly, maybe even some ivy, if you felt like it. Lit some candles to expel the long night. Danced around. Exchanged presents with your loved ones. It was all rather straightforward, really.

But not with Astarion, no; things were seldom simple with him, so you shouldn’t have been that surprised. 

He’d been planning for the celebration for weeks on end and—being a gods-awful planner—had turned that nice, simple affair into a proper ordeal.

Nothing had met his unprecedented standards.

The evergreens hadn’t been festive enough, so he’d crafted straw stars as additional decorations—only to deem them hideous after you’d helped make three dozen of them.  

Candles had been needed, a whole lot—nay! a sea—of them. Astarion had wanted the entire house to be filled with soft candlelight, only to get annoyed when he’d finally realised how much of a hassle it would be to actually light two thousand candles at roughly the same time.

Astarion thought you were a terrible dancer and teaching you some proper dance steps had already ended in tears once—neither of you wanted to speak of it ever again since you had more or less promised each other everlasting love and respect and little to no bloodshed. Dancing, let alone another dancing lesson, was off the table—indefinitely.

The only thing you’d been rather optimistic about was the celebration’s gift-giving aspect. Astarion had a very keen eye for things you might enjoy; pretty little trinkets, an excellent bottle of wine, a lovely new dress. 

The only issue Astarion had with gift-giving, however, was the gift-getting. 

He’d grossly misjudged the amount of time left until the Winter Solstice, only to find—with less than a week to go—that no potential gift had been good enough to present to you. 

Astarion had let you know in great detail that every trinket he’d come across had been tacky, and that every wine he’d sampled had tasted like piss. He was also strongly convinced that every seamstress in town was blind in both eyes. 

It had been a perfect predicament and with the days being reduced to only a couple of hours of scant sunlight, Astarion had been out and about most of the time—which, in all honesty, was the best gift he could have possibly given to you until the celebration was over.

And then the longed-for day had finally come. 

In true midwinter fashion, the weak sun rays barely penetrated the grey cover of clouds, and so you and Astarion found yourself tramping through knee-high snow in the early afternoon. 

You pressed your lips into a thin line as Astarion cursed again, kicking against a wayward pile of snow blocking his way. The snow scattered prettily before settling on Astarion’s already-drenched hood. He hissed but refrained from using any more profanities—for the time being, at least.

You wouldn’t be exaggerating when you said the general mood was a little sour on this most festive of days. 

For all your Winter Solstice planning, the fact that you two were travellers with no permanent residence to hold an actual celebration in, had somehow eluded you both. It wasn’t anybody’s fault, really. Sometimes, one could miss some crucial details here and there. Things like that happened all the time. No big deal at all. It was fine! 

You gave Astarion the side eye as you adjusted the straps of your pack which was stuffed with an ungodly amount of candles and greenery.

By the time you eventually reached an inn, you were cold and miserable. The inn’s soft candlelight dancing behind stained glass windows had guided you through the gathering darkness and you let out a deep sigh of relief when the warmth of its entry hall caressed your frozen skin. 

The inn was packed to the brim, the elderly proprietress informed you the moment you walked up to the reception desk—off you go again; there was no need wasting her time.

You took a deep breath before glancing over your shoulder to where Astarion was waiting outside, shivering and unable to cross the inn’s threshold. In your time together with him, you had learned that a dagger usually worked wonders, and it did not disappoint now, either.  

The elderly lady stared at the shiny blade you’d rammed into the polished wood of her desk and recalled that the attic was quite available to lodge in after all. 

You’d thought so, too, and gave her a courteous nod before taking the key from her.

“It’s cold outside. Would you be so kind and invite my partner in, too?” 

The proprietress assured you that it was no problem at all and invited Astarion in oh so enthusiastically.

“All settled,” you said as you held the door open for Astarion a moment later. They were the first words you’d spoken to him in hours but you fell back into thick silence when you stalked up the stairs to your rooms after him. 

The attic was a cold, damp and dark place. You’d made do in worse accommodations, though—and the hot bath the proprietress had promised you would make up for it.

To your surprise, Astarion bid you to warm up first. 

Although you all but wanted to fall asleep in the blissfully steaming hot water, you washed up quickly. You wouldn’t risk pushing your luck asking for another bath to be drawn but you didn’t want Astarion to soak in cold water, either. 

Red-faced and squeaky clean you hurried from the washroom back to the attic. You’d barely made it through the door that Astarion squeezed past you down the attic stairs, leaving you standing alone in the gloomy room. 

You knew he was only sulking because nothing had gone as he’d planned once again, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t bothered by the tension between you. 

It was the night of the Winter Solstice, after all. 

Sighing, you sat down on the old bed, suddenly wishing for a decadently decorated, candle-lit parlour and maybe even some music to dance to. Almost anything would be nicer than this draughty attic room and a frustrated vampire spawn. 

Grimacing, you were just about to comb your fingers through your wet hair when your sight fell on a little box resting next to you on the bed. You hadn’t noticed it before but a soft smile was already tugging at your lips when you picked it up. 

The box held a dainty pendant necklace with the palest ruby you’d ever seen. It was a subtle little thing—not at all Astarion’s style—but absolutely stunning in your eyes. 

You wasted no time putting the necklace on before you rummaged through your pack, looking for some candles. There were enough to light up the damn house, but one or two dozen would do nicely for your purposes. 

Over the past few weeks, you’d come up with a spell that lit every candle within a room with nothing but the snap of your finger, so it took no time at all to bathe the attic in soft candlelight. 

The evergreens you’d carried around looked a little worse for wear but you covered the narrow windowsill with them anyway before hanging some holly to the shabby bed posts as an afterthought. 

The room had turned cosy enough by the time you could hear footsteps behind the door. 

Not knowing how you’d received his gift, Astarion entered the room sheepishly enough. He raised an eyebrow at the sight in front of him, but his initial surprise was swiftly masked by a crooked smile. 

“You’ve been busy,” he observed, looking around before his gaze settled on you. 

He eyed the beautifully embroidered silk robe you’d gotten him as a present for the Winter Solstice. It was a little long for you, but that didn’t really matter—you’d only donned the robe for the purpose of presentation. 

“Do you like it?” You asked, stepping closer to him. 

Astarion reached for your hand, drawing his thumb over the back of it as he took a better look at the embroidery across your chest—although his eyes stuck to the collarbone that you’d left generously exposed.  

“You know, darling” he mused, cocking his head as he cupped your cheek, “Your taste might be a little questionable at times, but…” 

Chuckling, you pressed a kiss to the palm of his hand. Leave it to Astarion to insult you to your face and have you thank him for it. 

Maybe he did have a point, though; the colour of the robe did clash a little with his crimson eyes…

“But?” You sighed as his hand wandered from your cheek down your throat, brushing against your new necklace before it vanished into your deep, silken cleavage

“But…” Astarion started again, visibly pleased by your reaction to his touch; his gift around your neck.

You didn’t break eye contact when he tugged at the belt of your robe, nor when he circled your waist with his lean arm, pulling you flush against him.

“You do have an exceptional eye for presentation, my love.”

You tilted your head back to welcome his lips on yours.

Astarion’s kiss was deep and sweet at once—intoxicating you like no wine in all the realms ever could. 

The silk robe slid down your shoulders with only a little help from Astarion’s nimble fingers; the luxurious fabric pooled around your feet like water. 

You cupped the back of Astarion’s neck with your hand, deepening the kiss as he slowly guided you backwards until your legs brushed against the bed frame.

It would be a wondrously long night and it seemed like you would even get to dance together, after all.

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 #baldurs gate tav #baldur's gate 3 #astarion baldur's gate 3 #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion baldur's gate #astarion romance #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic #pale elf #astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #emicha writes #long post for these long nights #wilteddreamsbg3

[bangtan-in-black]

Hmm maybe yan!JK who is married to the reader and they live isolated, until a merchant convinces her to run away...

Warnings: jungkook looses his temper/ gets a little rough (it is an accident) , Jimin is the sweetest.

Living on the Red Valley ranch had been exciting at first, your husband made a lot of money but he was away a lot. It seemed that you never really got to speak to anyone other than the wide expanse of animals your husband had bought you to make up for the fact he's never home. That too was another thing that changed. The grandiose presents and knick knacks were not exciting anymore. 

Of course you appreciated how your husband was willing to go so far to make money for you but what was the cost? You barely saw the man you vowed to wake up to everyday. 

The ranch was of course gorgeous but you never knew what to do there, you felt like spending all that time alone in that big house was just pointless, especially if you had no one to talk to in your own home. 

You missed him, you really did. 

You really wanted to make something for him, you always wanted to show him how much you loved and appreciated him but you simply couldn't as you never knew when he'd come home. 

Sighing to yourself, you get ready to go out and tend to the cows and get the  chicken eggs. 

Red valley ranch was a picturesque and enchanting place nestled in the heart of the Joseon countryside.

Jungkook was one of the kingdom's fiercest knights. He would often travel to see the king for strategy meetings. Initially it had taken a while to convince the king of him living in the countryside but he had eventually agreed much to your delight at the time. 

You and your husband always wanted to live out in the countryside. However, with the way things were going, you wish you'd never left the city. At least if you had stayed you’d be able to see your husband every day. Sure it wouldn't be private or anything with you living in the place with your husband and the king and the rest of the knights and maids who worked under your majesty. But you'd have the man you love next to you every night. 

Jungkoook never wanted you to go with him on his trips back to the capitol, his excuse being that there could be bandits or thugs hanging around the dirt roads and you supposed he was right. That didn't mean you stopped trying to go with him though. It had caused a massive fight between the two of you a few months ago. It seemed that he was desperate to keep you in the house. 

Even when he was home you were never ever allowed past the merchant market down the street. Even then you rarely got to go alone. 

You loved how protective he was most of the time but sometimes you just felt caged. 

After collecting from the chickens and the cows you noticed you were running dangerously low on hay, which you blamed the horses for, and other foods for the animals. In fact you didn't have much yourself, just the milk and eggs you had collected a few minutes ago. 

You knew Jungkook would not be happy but you assumed he'd rather let you go out on your own then let you starve to death. 

You grabbed your basket and a few coins and headed down the road to the merchant marketplace. Many different  people came here to sell. It was a small community but not impoverished. This was because many of the people who lived here also worked for the king or the members of the royal court. This made the place ideal to merchants selling their trinkets. 

You would be very quick, you told yourself. 

The merchants' stalls and carts were surrounded by people from your small community. Everyone was excited to see if they could get anything of value from the merchants. 

Almost every stall was filled to the brim with excited customers. You weren't surprised though as it was sally like this, especially on nice days. 

Lining up by the merchant selling feed for animals. You looked around, noticing but one stall that had no people surrounding it. You would have guessed that the man running the stall had sold out. If he didn't look so defeated that is. 

You don't know what made you walk over there but you felt your legs moving on their own. 

“Hello, Sir?” You called out to him as he had his head buried in his hands. 

Upon hearing your voice the mysterious man jolts up and looks at you with a mix of shock, excitement and apprehension. There was always a chance you would walk the other way. 

“Hello ma'am, are you by any chance interested in any of these.” the man motions to the small table in front of him.  There lay a bunch of gorgeous hand crafted trinkets. 

“Oh my! These are the prettiest little decorations.” You marvel happily, smiling as you find a gorgeous sculpture of a horse made from a divine green rock, closely resembling emerald. 

“Jungkook would love this.” you smile. 

“I also have it in blue and black ma’am,” the man smiles nervously. As if he depended on you buying a small horse statue for him to survive. 

“Can I see it in black please?” you smile politely at the eager man. 

“Of course. Here you go.” he hands you the statue gently and you hold it firmly. “It's gorgeous, how much is it?”

He looked surprised for a second but then a bright smile took over his face.

“Thank you so much ma'am!” he bows with a big pleased grin on his face. “It's uhh three coins”

“Such craftsmanship like this deserves five coins. Please accept.” you hand the man five shiny golden coins. 

“Please ma'am i'm so grateful but it's too much!” the man offers you the two coins back. 

“No no, I can assure you I'm fine without the coins.” You offer the man a bright smile and as you turn to walk away you hear “Wait! Ma’am at least let me give you this horse as well” you turn around to see the man behind you holding a smaller version of the statue you had just bought in his palms. “It feels wrong taking your money without offering you this ma’am”.

You were slightly taken aback by the man's stunning moral standing. He really wasn't going to let you leave without you accepting his gift was he?

“Ok then.” you smile at him and his reaction to your agreement. He seemed relieved. 

“I'll be sure to come by again!” you call. 

And you did come by again. In fact while Jungkook was away you went out to the market every couple of days and always found the time to visit the sweet man who had given you such beautiful ornaments for your home. 

You of course spent some more money on his beautiful carvings. You were receiving money from the capital from your husband. You assumed he wouldn't mind as many of the carvings you had bought were for your husband. He'd always loved the carvings at the palace so you smile at the thought of surprising him with some of his own.  

The man, whose name you'd learned was Jimin, was so sweet. The two of you had had a few conversations with each other.  He went out of his way to show you how grateful he was. In fact around half of your collection was given to you for free out of the goodness of his heart. Which you really appreciated. 

You’d gone to Jimin's stall three times and ended up with six different ornaments. 

You’d kept your conversations pretty cordial. Other than the quick conversations you didn't know much about each other. But you felt he could be a good friend.

In fact you were planning on going to the market today. You had your basket ready and everything, you were planning to get some seeds for your small flower garden. And you were planning to see if Jimin had any new pieces in his collection. 

That was the plan anyway, with your basket on the table you pull some muffins out of the oven. You fancied something very sweet. 

“Smells delicious baby.” A deep voice calls out from behind you. 

You almost dropped the tray in shock. “Yeobo!” you yelled excitedly 

Carefully placing the tray down you then rush over and throw yourself into your husband's arms. 

“Where are you going so dressed up?” he licks his upper lip as he looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, not really making an effort to mask his confusion. 

“Oh umm, I was just going to quickly run to the market to get some flower seeds.”

He sighs “honey, what did I tell you about going to the market without me? Anything could happen to a gorgeous girl like you. And I can't have that, I love you too much to see you hurt over some dumb mistake.”

“Im sorry,” you feel guilty, the look he was giving you was radiating sadness and worry. 

“I just need you to be safe, you know that's why we moved here.” Jungkook said, this time he sounded more stern. 

“I'm sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I have been a few times the past few days and nothing bad has happened to me yet.” at your revelation Jungkook just shakes his head. “You're not gonna be happy until you're dead, isn't that right.” 

“You're not allowed to leave this house! Do you understand? I don't know what I'd ever do if something bad happened to you.”

“Jungkook, that's not fair and you know it.” you whisper. Feeling increasingly upset at the way your husband was looking at you.

“You knew the rules Y/n. I'm not gonna talk about this anymore. Go upstairs”

“I really wanted to get some flower seeds though.” She knew she was walking on a very thin line. 

“Y/n, I'm warning you. Go upstairs, I'll be up to see you in a minute.” 

“Oh ok,” not wanting to make your husband even more upset, you did as he asked. 

“Good girl,” he calls after you. 

You really didn't expect this to happen, you were so excited for him to come home. Could you even give him his gifts now?

Sitting on the bed you shared with the man you married you waited for him to come upstairs. 

“The cake was good,” you heard him behind you. 

“I was craving something sweet.” you whispered. 

He hums. 

“You know, I didn't want to yell. But I need you safe.” He rubs your shoulders.

“It was only down the street. I was so careful too.”

“It doesn't matter Y/n. You know I don't like it when you go out alone.”

“I'm sorry.” 

“Just don't do it again. You wanted some flower seeds huh?”

“Yes.”

“Come then, let's go.” he grabs your hand and pulls you down the stairs to the front door. 

“Really?” you ask excitedly. 

“I'm here to protect you now.” Jungkook grips your hand tightly. 

Jungkook took you to the market. You went around a few stalls. You ended up getting a variety of beautiful flower seeds. 

Jimin didn't seem to be here today, you noted. His stall wasn’t there. It was a shame, you wanted to see if he had anything new. 

“Happy now?” Jungkook asked as he held your hand tightly as you walked through the market together.

“So happy.” you nod. 

“That's good. I hope you know that you have to give me a little something for how generous I am.”

“Oh I have just the thing.” you smile. This was the perfect window to give him the gifts you’d bought him you thought. 

“Hmm I've missed you.” Jungkook stops and you look into his eyes.

“Why do I have a feeling that you mean something different than I do?” you muse. 

“Give me a break. I haven't seen you in three weeks. Do you know what that can do to a man? Especially when he knows he has such a gorgeous woman waiting for him at home.” 

“Jungkook, we're in public. It's improper to talk about such things.” 

“Then let's go home to the bedroom and talk about them there.” He whispers, his voice sultry. 

Jungkook wasn't joking. As soon as you entered your bedroom he was pulling your dress off of you. 

“You know i have to go back soon right?”

“ I know,” you say sadly. “How soon?”

“Two days.” he says in between kisses. 

“Jesus Jungkook, why'd you even bother coming home?” you push him away slightly 

“Y/n.” Jungkook says disappointed. 

“No, Jungkook, it's really not fair, why don't you understand? I need you here, not at the castle. You're my husband and I never get to see you, don't you get how that’s affecting me? I'm so damn lonely here without you and when you are here you don't stay for long before you're off again.”

“I do it so we can afford nice things Y/n.” 

“I don’t need nice things for fuck sake! I need you!” You scream, all the anger and stress you've been experiencing with your beloved by your side was affecting you in such a negative way. 

“But you're not here. You’re never fucking here!” Suddenly tears were rushing down your cheeks like they were a part of a stream passing over the rocky earth.

___

You stare off into the distance of the ranch. Jungkook was gone again. He'd spent the majority of those two days ignoring you. Doing something you never thought he'd ever do to you. 

Thinking about it makes you feel so upset. 

The man you loved was so mean to you. Why did it have to be you?

You thought that he understood you. 

You knew you needed to take your mind off of what had happened but you simply don't know how you'd get past this. 

“Right the cows need more water you mumble to yourself “and the chickens need more seeds.” 

You were determined to busy yourself to make the sting the tiniest bit less noticeable. 

“The market.” you mumble “ I should go to the market.” 

Pushing down the pain you felt wasn't going to do anything you knew that. But you didn't want to deal with how you felt at that moment, not now. Perhaps not ever. 

Stumbling around through the market as if you were almost lifeless caught the attention of most of the people there. A lot of them were posh snobs who turned their nose up at you as you walked along the stony pathway. 

You only got this treatment cause you were not born into nobility like many of these women. You just married one of the highest ranking knights in the land. Which was evidently not enough for these women who were born to counts and lords. 

Wandering around the market trying to fight back tears was challenging. But you eventually managed to push all those emotions down when you saw Jimin's stall. And it was packed. 

You were so happy for him, it was obvious to anyone that had been struggling with his business and it seems to have taken off, you noted.  

“Thank you so much everyone but we have sold out for today, i promise ill be back tomorrow with even more complex ornaments for you and your homes.” he calls out to the crowd surrounding his stall nervously. 

As the crowd disperses you decide to go say hello to the man. 

“Ahhh ma’am. I'm sorry but I am sold out at the moment” he smiles at you nervously. Like you were going to cut his head off because he had run out of stock. You honestly couldn't care less. In fact you were happy to see him doing so well.  

“That's ok, I just came to congratulate you. Your designs deserve the appreciation they are getting.”  

“Thank you so much ma'am.” he bows profusely. 

“You don't have to call me ma'am you know? I'm not above you or anything.”

“I call you ma'am because I respect you and because I am so thankful. Without your coins I probably wouldn't have survived the approaching winter, but now at least I have a chance. Even if it's only a small chance I'm still eternally grateful maam." Jimin explains. 

“Come on, I know your name. Let me tell you my real one.” you suggest

“Only if you're sure ma'am.” he says and you roll your eyes. 

“My name is Y/n, Jeon Y/n.” 

“Well in that case it's so great to meet you miss Jeon.” he smiles politely at you. 

“Jimin,” you whine. 

“Ok, Y/n? did your husband like your gifts.” he asks and even though he meant no harm by it you really wanted to just turn on your heel to stop yourself from crying.

“Umm actually i never had the chance to give him them. He was uhh too preoccupied with work… and things.”

“Oh well I'm sorry, that's a shame to hear.” Jimin smiles at you still, it was a cute dumb smile. He was so nice, but would he be as nice if he knew everything that was going on.

Deciding you don't want him to find out you quickly think of something else to say. “ Would you like to come over for dinner? Or at least a thank you cupcake?”

“To uhh say thank you for all the freebies.” You don't know why you offered such a thing, but your mouth started moving before you knew what you were saying. 

Standing there thinking it over for a second you realise it really can't be that bad of an idea. The man was harmless.

“Uhh only if you’re sure. I'd be honoured to.”

___

Dinner with Jimin was quiet but it was still overwhelmingly polite. It seemed as though Jimin was stunned by the charming ranch you lived on with all the animals your husband had bought you. 

When dinner was finished Jimin bowed to you to show that he was thankful for the meal. You offer for him to take some home and after a few moments of quick consideration he smiles and says “Yes please!” 

Not to lie but you were awfully charmed by Jimin's excitement. He reacted like that, for something you had made. 

It was a huge confidence boost. Especially to see him so eager to get the wrapped up dish from your hands. 

“Thank you so much Mrs jeon!” it seemed he didn't even notice that he had used your title instead of your name again. 

“Do I owe you anything?” Jimin asks as he approaches the entrance of the house.

You shake your head “nothing at all, this one's all on me. Although maybe you could perhaps teach me how to make such darling decorations some time.”

“I'd be honoured. When are you free?”

“Whenever you want me to be.”

“How about tomorrow? Noon?”

“Works for me,” you smile as you wave him off. 

Listening to his humming as he left fired up a small sense of joy in your heart. 

You always did love learning something new. 

___

“So you need to hold the scalpel tightly. We do not want you to hurt yourself do we?”

“Like this?” you ask

“That’s perfect.”

“What now?”

“Let yourself be free. Let your hands lead you.”

You pull your sleeves up. Not really aware that you were showing off one of the parts of you you were most self conscious about.

“What's that bruise?” you freeze, slowly looking up to see him looking at you confused and was that concern you saw in his eyes?

“Oh uh.” you didn't know what to say, you weren't going to tell him your husband had been a bit too rough with you. That was just going down the rabbit hole. 

“I bumped into my kitchen counter this morning.” You mumble. He shoots you a  look. A look that says he didn't believe you. You couldn't blame him. You don't think you’d believe yourself if you were him.

“I don't believe you.” he decides after a few seconds.

Panic sweeps over you. “Why not?” you cant even look at him. 

“That. you can’t even look at me.” 

“It's nothing.” you protest.

“Is he hurting you?” Jimin continues

“What? No! Hes - hes not.” 

“Then why can't you look at me?” he pushes 

“Why are you avoiding looking into my eyes now? After I asked about your husband.” 

You felt something get caught in your throat. Your sobs. 

“You can tell me. You don't deserve a man like that.” 

That was it, it broke the damn. 

Choking on your sobs in front of this practical stranger was not how you thought learning about how to sculpt would go. 

But why should it be any different from your life? 

“If he's hurting you, you need to leave him Y/n.” 

He called you by your name?

“I can't. He wont like that,” 

“Why should that matter? What about you?”

“I wouldn't know how to do any work to get any money, i'd starve to death come winter time.”

“Then, come with me.” 

“Run away with me”

#Jimin x reader #jungkook x reader #yandere au #yandere bts #bts #jungkook #jimin

[geekywritings]

“I didn’t expect you.”

You didn’t think I was done with Cal x reader fluff, did you?

Cal and reader have been traveling together for quite a while, but Cal struggles to sort his feelings. Until now.

____________________

The only life Cal Kestis had known for the longest time was the one dictated by the Jedi Order. His entire path in life had appeared so certain back then. Training at the Temple, further learning as a Padawan, the trials and finally serving as a Jedi Knight in his own right before taking on his own apprentice.

Only half of that had come to fruition. Long before he even started thinking about the trials, everything he had ever known was burned to ashes. His past, his present and his future.

He had to forge a new one for himself. Something, the temple had never prepared him for…

Lost, in hiding and scared, the young survivor had to learn the hard way how many lessons he had been missing. How little the Jedi life was connected to that of normal individuals in the galaxy.

He had managed somehow, making the best of his dire situation and finding ways to stay alive and out of sight. Unfortunately, this wasn’t any way to live. Not for a Jedi. Not for someone like Cal, with his strong sense of justice and desperate need for a purpose in life.

Cere and Greeze had been lifesavers in more ways than one. They had saved him from certain death at the hands of Trilla, but also from a far more painful and slow decay of his spirit.

He was fighting again, to rebuild the order, to protect innocents and to destroy the Empire. And with each fight and every ally he won, Cal’s confidence grew. He had begun learning new lessons, taking him further and further away from the Order and every rule he had ever lived by.

And then you had appeared, while he was on an errand run for Greeze on a small, desolate moon in the Outer-Rim.

You had literally dropped from the sky, right into his arms, the Jedi catching you purely on instinct. What a vision you had been! Dressed in a light blue dress, your hair braided and adorned with little trinkets that matched your necklace, earrings and bracelets.

He hadn’t realized it at that moment, but you had been a bride on the run.

“Help me.”

The first words you had ever spoken to him, as the calls of your family members and destined groom boomed from the building above.

“Please.”

All Cal had been able to do was nod, placing your feet on the ground and grabbing your hand instead, as he navigated you through the crowd and back to the Mantis. No questions asked, he had simply offered the help you had asked for.

That had been three or four years ago, and all memory of the forced marriage had already paled in your memory. Instead, your mind was mostly filled with thoughts of him. Your saviour. Your friend. Your comrade on the battlefield. The man you had grown to care for.

What you didn’t know: Cal’s thoughts also hadn’t stopped gravitating around you since that day.

From your sudden first appearance until now, you kept surprising him at every turn. You turned out to be an excellent fighter, using a staff almost as confidently as he wielded his lightsaber. You also shared his interest in tinkering, constantly finding ways to improve or fix something around the Mantis. What was most surprising was your personality, however: So positive, so joyful, so full of energy.

The Jedi could be having the worst of days, but one smile or joke from you and he’d find his mood lifting. One touch from your hand and he was willing to face Vader himself. Cal was feeling things around you he had never experienced before… and he knew right away that this was the thing the Jedi Temple had forbidden. This kind of all-consuming attachment, undying loyalty and sheer attraction would have him drop everything for you in a heartbeat. And it didn’t even feel wrong.

Recently, it had started to weigh on his mind more and more, as he found it increasingly difficult to push his feelings down. He cared for you. Loved you. Desired you.

Theoretically, there was nothing that stopped him from just giving in… apart from that tiny voice in the back of his mind, resembling that of his Master far too much. It reminded him of the Code, the vow he had made to follow it, to always be a good student and never disappoint his teacher.

“Look what I found!”, your happy voice tore him right out of another round of debating with his conscience and he turned to look at your beaming smile as you held up some spare part he couldn’t identify at first glance.

“You said you wanted an upgrade for BD, so he could protect himself more.”, you clarified. “It’s a tiny electro shocker. I didn’t even know they came that small.” The excitement was radiating from you like the sun, and Cal found it impossible not to smile at least a little, as he took the part from you for a closer look.

“That’s great.”, he said, but the tone in his voice had your joy falter.

“What’s wrong?”, you asked.

“Nothing…. Just thinking.”, he replied, unable to lie to you.

“What about?” You could be incredibly pushy and persistent and Cal contemplated whether he could talk himself out of this one. In the end, he concluded that he could not.

“About the Jedi Order. The code and… how I can still honor it.”

While he spoke, you had hopped onto the table he was sitting at, staring at him with a serious expression. You had known little about Jedi before meeting Cal and even now, your understanding of them felt patchy. Mostly, because you found yourself disagreeing with a lot of the things Cal had told you about.

“You are honoring it by continuing to fight what the Order stood for.”, you eventually shared your honest thoughts with him. “Peace. Balance. Justice.” Those were the things you did respect about the fallen order.

“But times have changed. The rules have changed, if you want to compare it to a game.”, you eventually continued when Cal didn’t say anything. “You adapted to stay alive while staying true to yourself. That is commendable.”

How were you so good at this, he wondered. How were you so capable of taking his doubts and worries, picking them apart with just the right words?

Green eyes were staring at you as you argued about some of the Jedi rules being outdated and impossible to follow anyway.

“We are humans, you and I. We are meant to feel sad, happy, jealous, excited, joyous and all the other things.”, you concluded with a firm nod. “If we lock it all away, are we even really alive then?”

Coming from someone, who wore their heart on their sleeve, it was probably true. You were driven by emotion in almost all you did and so far, you had never regretted it.

Cal’s expression had changed during your talk, his shoulders relaxing and his lips twitching back into a smile. Ultimately, he even chuckled.

“I wasn’t joking!”, you said, lightly punching his shoulder.

“I’m not laughing at you.”, he assured you, catching your hand before you could land a second punch and holding it in his. “I’m just thinking how much you surprise me every day.”

Your confused blinking invited him to elaborate.

“I should see it coming by now, but I never do… I didn’t expect it. I didn’t expect you.”

His thumb was now gently stroking over your skin, keeping a hold of your hand in his.

“I always thought I’d be walking the Jedi path. Even after the Order disappeared… I wanted to force that path back into existence… And then you showed up… and everything changed.”

He took a deep breath, eyes wandering from your joined hands to your face. Why had he hesitated for so long? Why had he kept his feelings bottled in? The old path was gone and no amount of fighting would bring it back. But he could walk a new one. With you.

“I think it’s time for me to take my life into my own hands… find my own destiny. Unrelated to the Order.” Still, he was dancing around it and although you knew what he was probably trying to get to, you didn't try and help him right away.

“I want to build a new life. With you.”, he finally said. “I wanted to for quite some time, but…”

You didn’t let him finish. Instead, you leaned down, capturing his lips with yours in a kiss you had been dying to give for months. Cal was so stunned, he couldn’t even return the gesture.

Slowly, you pulled away with a smile. “You are horrible at confessions, Cal.”, you told him. Your entire body was tingling pleasantly, your belly hot and your heart swelling with so much joy, it felt as if it would burst any second

“I love you too, you overthinking Jedi.”, you said, having no qualms about saying the words he had trouble finding.

Your own confession worked like a stim to Cal’s system and instantly he was up on his feet, standing before you and leaning in to kiss you. Whatever hesitation had been there before was gone all of a sudden, as his hands wove into your hair, keeping you locked to him as the kiss grew deeper.

You weren’t holding back either, giving in to every bit of passion you felt at that moment.

“If we get married, I hope you won’t jump out of the window like you did when we met, though.”, he spoke after you broke apart.

“Bad confession followed by a bad marriage proposal? We will have to work on that, Cal.”, you teased back and he chuckled before kissing you again. He would learn. He was ready for new things. As long as they were with you.

#cal kestis #cal kestis x yn #cal kestis x you #cal kestis x reader #jedi survivor

[norrisleclercf1]

You Don’t Go To Parties

Pairing: Carlos x Reader

Rating: G

Warnings: Toxic behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationships, writing was all over the place to symbolize reader x Carlos relationship

A/N: Wrote this while listening to Don’t Go To Parties by 5 Seconds of Summer off their new album

It was pathetic, utterly pathetic in how he looked for you. For five years, you gave your life to him, five years of friendship, trust, love, travel, secrets, truths, and all he gave you was parties. You wanted more; you deserved more from him, but he couldn't give that to you.

Carlos was holding another party and was waiting for you to show up. Two weeks ago, you told him you were done with this, this lifestyle. You couldn't handle it anymore, especially when you told him you loved him; he laughed in your face.

He didn't take it seriously; you both were fatal to one another, unable to stay away like magnets, very unhealthy magnets. People started to pour into the party slowly; Carlos began to forget about you. The music was thumping the entire house as the other drivers, and their friends showed up; people and people filled the hallways, creating this illusion of a never-ending sea.

Sitting at home, you tried to rid stuff of Carlos. The memories everywhere in your home, not even knowing he was slowly consuming your entire being, taking your heart and soul without notice. Your phone vibrates and keeps lighting up; finally, annoyed, you grab it and see texts, videos, and Instagram posts flood your notifications.

You want to look, but knowing who or what he's doing was too cruel to yourself. You mute your phone and start to pack up his clothes, pictures, and even the little trinkets he left here and there. How could someone you didn't even officially date cause such a hole in your life? But, you were the fool who fell in love with him.

Carlos kept getting distracted, he didn't know what it was, but anytime he saw a flash of your favorite color, he felt his heart stop but kick back up when it wasn't you. Shaking his head, he turns back to Charles and Lando, downing his drink; the boys could tell he wasn't listening; his eyes kept scanning the room.

The Spaniard didn't even know he was looking for you still until Charlotte said something. “She’s not coming, Carlos. She was serious about you two.” Charlotte yells over the music.

Carlos looks down at Charles's girlfriend. “No, she wasn't; she always does this; she was just angry.” He defends not wanting to face the truth about this.

“Oh, for fucks hell,” Charlotte yells and storms off, not wanting to fight a child.

You stand in the middle of your living room, holding a glass of wine, tears falling. You were stupid and looked at your phone, seeing Charlotte’s text about how Carlos was looking for you. Needing to stay strong, you turned the home off completely. You couldn't do this to yourself; leaving him was intelligent, healthy, and grownup.

Time ticks by as Carlos keeps drinking and searching for you. But it was 5 am, and he was still looking for you. Everyone was here but you. You weren't. Sitting on the couch, he hangs his head, thinking over your last conversation.

“I'm done, Carlos; I can't keep doing this to myself. I give and give and all, you give me, quick fucks and empty promises. You don't want me; in 5 years, you've never wanted me. We're done.” You yell, throwing a glass at his head. He laughs and walks toward you. He wasn't sure who started the argument or how it got here.

“We're not done. You'll come back; we always come back to one another.” Carlos chuckles and pins you against the wall.

“Get off me.” you push against his chest, but he doesn't move. Hands slapping his chest, he scuffs and nods his head, moving away.

“Whatever, there's a party in a few days. See you there.” Grabbing his keys, he leaves your place, hearing you yell you were don't with parties.

Your pillow still smelled like his cologne; it haunts you that your things still clung to his soothing smell. Almost like heaven....maybe it was hell testing you, pushing you more and more to go to him, but you wouldn't. If you went back this time, you'd drown and never come back for air. You had your air, how little it was, but you knew the more you swam, the more air you gained.

Carlos stayed sitting on the couch; someone had sat down next to him, some girl, he didn't know who she was, he didn't care. She tried flirting with him, but he just nodded his head once in a while, eyes glued to the door.

“Whatever.” he hears the girl groan and storms off, but he keeps staring at the door, trying to ensure that you aren't showing up. Charles notices this, and walks over to him sitting down slowly.

“Carlos?” He asks gently seeing people start to leave.

“For 5 years....she was always there, yeah we weren't good for each other, yeah maybe we were so damn toxic to one another, but she...she was there. When no one else was, she was always there. And I threw that away because I didn't want to label us. Five years Charles, five years.” His voice drops off, hiding his face in his hands.

Charles sits there listening to spill the last five years and shakes his head. He should've stepped in earlier, my God, listening to him, Charles, should have taken you away from Carlos. But, you always reassured everyone that everything was fine, when really it wasn't.

Carlos grabs his phone and chuckles to himself and pulls up your messages sending you one....just one more text.

You jerk awake with a weird sweat covering your body. Grabbing your phone you power it on and freeze, a test from Carlos popping up.

“You don't go to parties anymore.” -Carlos

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 imagine #f1 2022 #f1 scenario #formula one #carlos sainz jr one shot #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz jr imagine #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz jr x you #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fanfic

[foli-vora]

Female reader. Steven grant. Prompts: 21, 26, 75.

In my mind is something like reader having to protect sweet Steven, so she breaks up with him and he’s destroyed and begs her to not leave him or something but ends up telling her he hates her after the whole break up scene, and she leaves.

Break my heart with this please. I want to feel stevens sadness and readers heart breaking knowing it’s what she has to do.

CONGRATS ON 3K MY LOVE!!! PRECIOUS FOLI IM SO HAPPY TO SAY THAT IVE BEEN HERE FOR LONG RIDE!! It’s an absolute honor to read you.

my sweet love, i am so honoured you've been here for the long haul and i appreciate you so much! thank you for your request, i had so much fun breaking sweet boi's heart! i hope this is painful enough for you x

tear into my heart

steven grant x f!reader

word count: 2359 warnings: angst. so much angst. mention of the avengers/other marvel characters, brief mention of S.H.I.E.L.D & HYDRA, mentions of danger, mentions of death/dying, lies, a fake affair, break up, brief violence (throwing a plate)

Dread.

It fills you. It runs through your veins, churns restlessly in your gut and fills your throat until it feels impossible to inhale. Panic begins to build, with sweat stinging at your skin and bringing a wave of fog over your mind.

How had things gotten so out of hand? You’d thought for sure the situation would be contained, would be dealt with so easily. It was looking fine, everything had gone well and it was meant to just be over. Done with. Finished. You should’ve known it was never that simple.

Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.

How did you get here? Maybe you could explain, maybe you could keep him safe, maybe it didn’t have to be this way—

Bucky sighs, the crackled whisper of it falling into your ear from your phone and you bite down on your lip to stem the bitter feel of tears. 

“I’m sorry, doll. I wish there was another way.”

You swallow around the sudden dryness in your throat, picking at the blanket beneath you. The blanket you often shared with him.

The blanket he’d draped around your shoulders when you had a cold, the blanket you tucked around him when he fell asleep reading on the couch… so many memories with just a bit of fabric. You dare not look around to see the other trinkets and memories lingering in his flat.

“Am I doing the right thing, Buck? I don’t want to hurt him, surely I—we—can protect him—”

“I wish I could say we could, but the reality is I just don’t know. Do you want to risk it?”

Could you risk it by staying? Risk him?

“No,” you reply softly, knowing you’d rather suffer the pain of not being with him rather than the pain of potentially burying him. You needed him safe. You needed to know he was safe.

“Maybe once this is over, you could sit him down and explain everything. He might understand?”

Would he? Would you even get that far? While confident in your skills and abilities, there was always a chance of not walking away, and you might never have the chance to fix anything. Death has never frightened you — the possibility simply came with the job and you had long made peace with that, but now?

A trickle of fear buds in the centre of your chest. Could you die knowing you had left him heartbroken? Could you die knowing you didn’t utter a final ‘I love you’? Would he even know you died?

As far as he knew, you worked in an office. A simple job, with occasional travel included.

You hated lying, but it just seemed a lot easier than coming out with the whole 'Oh, well I worked as an agent for S.H.I.E.L.D before that went up in literal flames and I’m now actually stationed in London and employed by the Avengers on the recommendation of Agent Barton'.

Steven was nervous enough in the beginning, you didn’t need another reason to scare him away with that whole backstory. 

“Yeah… maybe,” you mutter, desperately blinking the shine of tears overtaking your vision. “Okay. I’ll be an hour or so, I don’t want to just leave him a note—I want to do it properly.”

“We’ll be here, doll.”

Knowing you didn’t have long until Steven got home, you pass some time by shoving clothes into a bag and clearing your things from the bathroom, trying to not focus on the way his toothbrush now sits alone in the cup. You can barely look at your reflection in the mirror.

Emotion claws at your throat when you empty your side drawer and pluck the single polaroid from its depths. You hold it between two fingers, studying the way he looks so damn handsome in his glasses and fully focused on the little book in his hands, completely oblivious to you taking a photo.

“I love you,” you whisper, trailing your fingertips over its shiny surface before slipping it carefully into the front pocket of your bag, unwilling to part from it should he not want to see you once you were finished with the mission.

At least he’d be safe.

“Take care of him, Gus,” you murmur to the glass, watching the orange fish swim his usual paths through his tank.

The door opens, drawing your attention away from the little animal, and in shuffles Steven, rustling with a plastic shopping bag and a tired smile that considerably brightens when his eyes find you. Your heart quickens in your chest, his presence never failing to send your system into a tizzy.

He’s too good for this, too good for you.

“Hiya, love. Gods, you would not believe the day I��ve had—”

Off he goes.

You love his ramblings. You love how he would use his hands so much as he talks, how expressive he would get and how he was oblivious to anything happening around him. He would talk and talk and talk, and you would soak it all up, hanging on every word falling from his lips.

Just for a moment, you enjoy the normality of it; the calm before the storm, the peace before the pain. He’d stop soon, realising he hadn’t yet given you a kiss, so you straighten before he can do so, knowing if you were to feel that simple, tender press of his lips you wouldn’t have the strength to walk out the door.

“Steven?”

The word gets trapped in your throat.

“—and then some kid knocked the stuffed scarabs over so that was a little disaster in itself coz you know what Donna’s like. Oh! There’s that new David Attenborough doco on the telly tonight so I thought we could watch that and order in some tea, maybe have a little b—”

“Steven,” you repeat louder, firmer, “we need to talk.”

Immediately, he stops. His eyes fly to you and you fight to weaken at the softness swimming in them. This is for him, you remind yourself. It’s all for him. He’d be killed if they knew.

“I thought we already were, though it was a bit hard for you to get a word in what with me going on,” he gives a chuckle, but your face remains indifferent to it. His eyes flick over your face, taking in your cool, stiffly set features and his smile falters. “You ‘right, love?”

Here we go. I’m so sorry.

“No. I’m leaving.”

He blinks, “You what?”

“I’m leaving. This is over.”

“Over?” Confusion twists his brows, his face pinching as the words ring through his ears. “What do you mean ‘over’?”

“I mean this—” you gesture between him and yourself, “—is over. What we have? It’s done. I’m done, Steven. I’m leaving.”

“What? No, you—you can’t. We—” he runs a flustered hand through his curls, his chest jumping with his sharp inhale, “everything’s great. It’s great. Wh… I don’t understand. I don’t understand.”

“I’m sorry,” you murmur before you can stop the words from falling, forcing yourself to swallow the feel of your heart beating in your throat.

“Is it the sleep thing? Love, I-I’m sorry, I can… I can figure something out! I’ll tie myself to the bloody bed if I have to!” He smiles, laughs, but it’s all nerves, panic. 

So many nights you’d woken to him up and moving about. The first time it happened, it was almost as if he didn’t recognise you, like he was so lost to dreams that he wasn’t truly there and was startled at your presence. It happened frequently, almost every night, and with the more you began to stay over, the more it became a routine. 

You’d coax him into bed, wrap him in the quilt and kiss his cheek with a loud smack, expecting his dorky little chuckle or an adoring little comment, but instead you were met with stares that didn’t seem quite so familiar. He looked like Steven, smelt like Steven, but the eyes… there was something there. 

“No Steven, it’s not the sleep thing.”

“Is—is it me?” He asks shakily, faltering on a step forward and bringing his hands together anxiously, his fingers turning and twisting around the others. “I know I can be a bit much, love, but I-I can change… I’ll do anything for you, anything—”

It pierces right through your chest, impaling your heart and tearing it in half. How could he think that? He’s lovely. So, so lovely. You’ve never met anyone like Steven. He’s beautiful. He’s smart. He’s kind and warm and so damn sweet—

“It’s not you, please believe me when I say that.”

No, it’s not you, precious boy. I’m so sorry. 

His hands begin to tremble.

There’s nothing more to say. It’s done. You let your gaze fall away from him, taking a quick second to gather yourself and keep your posture straight, ensuring to swallow down the pressure in your throat before it could morph into tears. 

He moves when you do, watches you pick up the readied bag he had passed coming in, and he steps in front of the door, holding a hand out in an effort to keep you still.

“Love, please—”

“I’m going, Steven.”

He doesn’t move. He stands there in your way, hands shaking by his sides, his lips pressing tightly together to keep the noticeable wobble at bay. 

“Please let me do this,” you mutter, the dull sting pricking the back of your eyes. Get out now.

“You can’t leave, love. You can’t, we—you’re my everything. Please—please, just—we can fix this. Whatever it is, we can fix it!”

He won’t let go.

Gods, Steven, please let go.

The thought of this all blowing out of control and someone finding him… the thought of it makes you physically ill. Your mind rejects the images of him hurt, beaten, laying bleeding and broken on the floor, his eyes empty and staring vacantly into nothing.

Bile builds in your throat. You have to protect him, you have to keep him safe.

There’s a way to make him let go, but it’s fucking brutal, and you’re almost certain there’s no coming back from it. But it’s okay. If he’s safe, it will be okay. It’s for him.

A bubble of self loathing builds in your gut. Please forgive me.

The words make you sick.

“There’s someone else.”

The moment holds after your spoken words, the air in the flat turning harder somehow. His heart shatters. You can see it play across his face. First the confusion, your words not quite sinking in. Someone else? No. No, you would never. The denial—you wouldn’t do that… no, you love him, don’t you? The pain. It pierces right through to the very core of you.

You bite down hard on your tongue. There’s so much you want to say. You want to cry, you want to apologise, you want to cradle him and tell him there’s no one else, there could never be anyone else… but you stand firm, watching the daunting understanding leak into his features.

His shoulders drop, and those tortured eyes meet yours.

“Oh. What’s their name?”

Your training kicks in.

“James.”

“James,” he repeats quietly, his throat bobbing with a swallow. “How long?”

“Steven—”

“How long?”

“A few months,” you lie through your teeth.

Lying had always been somewhat of a second nature to you, but here? Now? The words burn your mouth. The lies feel acidic on your tongue. It burns to the point you think you can’t utter another word.

“All that time?” He whispers in surprise, his voice cracking.

His lips press firmly together but the action doesn’t stem the tears that build along his lash line. The barrier breaks and they eventually spill, falling from his eyes and painting his cheeks with trails of heartbreak.

“Does… does he know about me?”

You don’t answer, but he seems to draw a conclusion from the look on your face. He gives a barely there broken chuckle, forced through shaking lips.

“Bet you both had a right laugh,” he mutters scornfully, “while your stupid little boyfriend waited in his stupid little flat.” 

Your face creases, “Steven—”

“I hate you,” he mumbles, eyes dropping to the floor as more tears stream down his face. “Gods I love you, but I fucking hate you right now.”

And with those final words, he crumbles.

His devastation is palpable, and your heart shatters alongside him.

He wraps his arms around himself, unable to raise his eyes enough to meet yours as he shuffles out of your way, freeing your exit and allowing you to leave. A warm tear slips down your cheek as you listen to the sounds of agony falling from his throat, spreading over your skin when your fingers rise to brush it away.

Every step towards the door is a struggle.

You want nothing more than to turn around, to stay. The door knob is ice cold under your fingers, mirroring the feeling of grief spreading out from your gut. His cries echo around you, burning into your mind with each broken inhale and heavy exhale.

The soul shattering sobs stop, and the startling finality of it is enough to have you pausing where you pull the door open. His curled shoulders stiffen and his body hardens, almost as if he just snapped right out of his heartbreak.

He half turns, his dark, wild gaze locking onto you from beneath the mop of curls falling over his eyes and you’re frozen from the bitter hostility filling them. The rage, the hatred.

It’s not the stare you’re used to meeting at night. This is different. 

The air changes, thickens.

He’s different. 

“Steven?”

“Get out,” he rasps, voice taking on a deeper, angrier husk and it’s not him—it’s not your Steven, “now.”

“What—”

“Leave!”

His hand swipes a plate from the table, sending it flying across the room before it shatters into pieces against the wall and you swallow a sob, quickly resuming your exit and aching at the sounds of further destruction that echo down the hall once the door slams shut.

-

moon bois tags: @acourtofsnakes, @greeneyedblondie44, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @itswanktime, @stevenmylove, @ruhro7, @juletheghoul, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @asgardiandeadpoetsociety, @excitedcurtain864, @chickencouncilrep, @bluestuesday, @katronautt, @what-iwish-you-knew, @totallynotastanacc, @bangaveragewhitewine, @chaoticevilbakugo, @trickstersp8, @rominaszh, @gooddaykate, @midgardianminx, @mishasminion360, @detectivecarisi-1, @quicksilvermad, @raphaelaisabella, @iceclaw101, @thatpinkshirt, @breakfastonpluto19, @withakindheartx, @sirpascal, @littleone65, @xoxabs88xox, @timpletance, @jitterbugs927, @randomchick546, @xdaddysprincessxx, @dnxgma, @astronomeoww, @dindjarinswhore, @Curiouser-an-curiouser, @h-hxgirl, @mischiefnevermanaged94, @mando-amando, @mx-ferelden, @xxvariant, @welcometostayingawake, @trinkets01, @shadowolf993, @mwltwo, @loveslide, @lccs-world, @artsymaddie

#foli's 3k #steven grant x reader #steven grant x f!reader #steven grant x you #steven grant #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant imagine

[bumbleklee]

accidental geovishap acquisition

masterlist | 1k prompt masterlist | family series

prompt: you find a baby geovishap while exploring in liyue. diluc is less than thrilled about your new pet. 

pairings: diluc x gn!reader

warnings: ~2.5k words, accidental baby acquisition trope (but with a geovishap), diluc falls in love with said geovishap but would never admit it

When you told Diluc you were traveling to Liyue for work, he expected you to come home with sincere gifts of exquisite gemstones and thoughtful trinkets. He never, in a million years, would have imagined you to come home with what you did. 

“Absolutely not.” Diluc says sternly when his eyes lay on the thing in your embrace. It’s sleeping soundly, curled around your arms, and you look overjoyed to be holding it. 

You don’t give him the time of the day. “His name is Spot because he’s got a spot around his right eye,” You tell. “He’s just a baby.” 

“Yeah – a baby who will grow into a monster that’s five-times the size of you and try to eat you.” 

“Geovishaps don’t eat people.” Diluc sighs and you look at him longingly, “He was all alone, ‘Luc. I couldn’t just leave him there.” He frowns heavily, the muscles on his face stretching down, and you add, “Besides, look how adorable he is.” 

Diluc stares at the baby Geovishap with sharp eyes. Then, he looks back at you. “One month,” He decides, “You can have one month to raise it and then you’re bringing it back to Liyue.” 

You smile and duck your head down to kiss the top of the Geovishap’s scaly head. Diluc feels his eye twitch. 

You fully intended on bringing back something introspective from Liyue. But when you were amassing the greenery with your expedition team, you heard something calling for help around a bend. Your curiosity got the best of you and underneath a heavily-weathered shed laid a tiny little dragon. 

It was utterly alone and looked afraid but you still swept your surroundings for a mother before deciding that this baby had been abandoned and you would be a truly cruel person to leave it there to ultimately die. 

Without much thought, you peeled your bag off your shoulders and opened it wide. Your hands lifted the Geovishap with gentleness and lowered him into the sack. When you were sure he was secured, you slipped your bag back on and went back to your team. The Geovishap’s head poked out from the opening of the sack and he laid his tired face on your shoulder. 

And now, here you were. 

“How are you going to feed it?” Diluc asked later. “What are you going to feed it?” 

You contemplated his question and rubbed your fingers between the sleeping dragon’s eyes. He leaned into your touch and purred loudly. “Whatever we have for dinner,” You answered. Diluc stared at you for a moment and you cocked your head in confusion, “What? Is that not good?” 

“Is that not good?” Diluc mocked, “Does it even have teeth?” 

“I…don’t want to check.” 

Diluc huffed once and grabbed his coat, “Stay here.” He left the manor promptly and returned later with a woven satchel filled with various items. He laid them on the kitchen counter and you peered at them curiously. There were a few bottles of fresh milk, some minced meat, and a cattle-feeding bottle. “Well, do what you need to do.” 

He was about to leave the kitchen when you caught the sleeve of his arm, “You know,” You started. “Your father loved to rescue wild animals. He would have adored Spot.” 

Diluc visibly stiffened, “Wild animals like feral cats and stray dogs. Not Geovishaps.” 

You laughed softly, “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 

At night, you lay Spot to sleep on a makeshift pile of pillows and blankets in the corner of the bedroom and kiss it goodnight. For a moment, Diluc imagines the Geovishap is a child and you’re putting them to bed, but then he remembers that it’s not a child. It’s a Geovishap. It will never be anything more than a Geovishap. 

It becomes even worse when said Geovishap begins following Diluc around the house. It hasn’t mastered rolling yet, so it teeters around on all-four-legs and occasionally rams into the back of Diluc’s shins.

“Y/N,” Diluc warns after Spot headbutts his legs for the sixth time that morning, “Can you get your rabid-dog away from me?” 

You dramatically gasp, “Be nice to him! He’s just a baby!” 

Diluc shakes his head at you in disbelief. Truthfully, he doesn’t understand why you’re so adamant about protecting the Geovishap. One day, this tiny baby would grow into a vicious beast and do what it was programmed to do – cause destruction and harm – and it would inevitably meet its demise. Taking this Geovishap was a mistake. What was it going to take for you to understand that? 

Nothing, clearly, because Diluc comes home from a shift at the tavern to see Spot curled against your arm…sleeping on his side of the bed. 

“Absolutely not,” Diluc mutters – this phrase seemingly becoming his favorite lately. He grabs the monster under its arms and Spot jerks awake, wriggling in Diluc’s grasp. Spot scowls in protest and shakes his tail pathetically. Diluc holds the Geovishap at arms length and carries it to the bathroom attached to your bedroom. Diluc throws Spot down in the empty bathtub and stares at it for a moment before shaking his head, “You can sleep there.” 

Spot tries to climb out of the bathtub but can’t get a hold on the ceramic ledge and falls to the bottom of the tub. He sits back on his legs and looks at Diluc with such insufferable doe-eyes that make Diluc sick. 

“What?” Diluc grits his teeth. The baby dragon makes a sound, dare Diluc describe it as cute, and scoots closer to the edge. “I’m not letting you out.” Spot makes the sound again, louder this time, and Diluc rolls his eyes, “Oh, shush.” 

As if the Geovishap can understand what Diluc is saying, and decides to totally go against it, he starts making much louder noises. It sounds like a mix of a bark, a meow, and a growl, and it’s getting louder by the second. Diluc groans and ducks down to lift the Geovishap into his arms again. 

“Fine, fine,” He admits, “You win. Just don’t wake them up.” He brings the Geovishap back into your bedroom and drops him onto the bed you made him. “Stay,” Diluc adds before crawling into bed with you. 

He’s woken up an hour later to something crawling over his body and snuggling into your arms but he’s much too tired to care. He can survive one night of this. (Deep down, Diluc knows that there’s going to be way more than one night of this.) 

Next week, Kaeya comes to visit Diluc. Or, as Diluc likes to call it, comes by for a free glass of wine. 

Diluc tenses his back against a wooden chair. “What’s the reason for your unexpected visit?” He demands, knowing there must be some reason. 

Kaeya pretends to remember something and reaches into his bag for it. “Annual paperwork,” He says casually, procuring a neat stack of papers and placing them on the table. “Jean asked me to come drop them off and who would I be – what is that?” 

On the floor behind Diluc stands a scaly, dragon-looking animal. It barks, or whatever it does, at Kaeya and curls up into a ball, rolling towards the visitor. Spot rolls straight into the table leg and unfurls, sitting under the table in an agitated mess. 

“That’s my new dog.” 

“That is not a dog.” 

On cue, you step out from around the corner with a frown on your face. “Is Spot in here? He heard something and jumped off the couch and into here.” You hear the monster and drop to your hands and knees to pull him out from under the table. You pick Spot up without protest and settle in an empty chair with the Geovishap on your lap. 

Kaeya stares in disbelief. “Spot? You named it Spot?” 

You nod, scratching the back of Spot’s head, “Sure did.” 

“Congratulations on your new addition,” Kaeya eventually says, his voice ridden with amusement, “I’m sure he’ll be a wonderful Ragnvindr heir.” 

Diluc huffs, “It’s not staying here forever.” 

The corners of Kaeya’s mouth curl upwards, “I’m sure he isn’t, Master Diluc.” Diluc only rolls his eyes and reaches for the stack of papers. 

Over the next couple of weeks, you care for the Geovishap like any pet. You feed him in the morning and night (Diluc complains about the grocery budget doubling), make sure he has lots of toys to play with during the day and a warm bed to sleep in at night, and give him enough love to last a millennium. 

Spot learns the layout of the manor soon enough and Diluc spends his days pulling him out from underneath a bed or shooing him off the counter (how did he even get up there?!). Sometimes, though, Diluc can’t find him. 

After an hour of searching, you start to worry. Usually, Spot comes out of his various hiding places by nightfall but tonight, he was nowhere to be found. It was raining outside and all you could think of was the baby dragon getting stuck in a thunderstorm. 

“Come to bed,” Diluc tries again, “I’m sure it’ll show up in the morning.” 

You shake your head adamantly and pull your blanket around your body even tighter. “He,” You correct, peeved, “Stop calling Spot an ‘it’.” 

Diluc sighs before walking towards you and falling down next to you on the couch. His shoulder brushes against yours and he unwraps the blanket partially so he can sneak underneath. “Maybe it – he – ran away back to Liyue,” Diluc tries. When you glare at him, he adds, “I’m just kidding. I’m sure he’ll show up.” 

And he does. Diluc wakes up in a panic when something jumps onto his sleeping form and settles on his rising chest. Just as he’s about to shove the Geovishap onto the floor, Spot makes a purring-sound and nuzzles his head against Diluc’s shirt. 

Diluc contemplates throwing the Geovishap across the room like a ball but then he remembers your very presence next to him and decides, fine, he’ll let Spot stay but he won’t be happy about it.

A month comes and goes and Diluc doesn’t pester you about getting rid of Spot. Whether he’s forgotten about your agreement or Spot is growing on him is still unknown but you’re delighted you get to keep your adorable baby dragon around for a while longer. On warm days, you take Spot outside and let him run around the vineyard and catch bugs. If he’s behaving, you might even tear a grape off a vine and give it to him as a snack. 

Once, Diluc sticks his head through the manor doors and calls for you. “Your oversized-lizard is getting into something down by the water,” He says. 

You head towards the lake and Diluc goes back to watering his plants. Spot is sitting on his hind legs and staring at a cryo slime. His teeth are barred and his tail is whipping wildly left-to-right. 

“Whatever you’re thinking of doing – don’t.” 

Spot looks back at you for a moment and cocks his head. He looks innocent until he turns back to the slime and lunges. He sinks his claws into the matter and, quite literally, tears it apart before your eyes. When he’s done, a pile of melting snow remains. 

You realize then how big Spot has gotten since you first brought him home. 

You scoop the Geovishap into your arms and carry him back to the manor, away from the crime scene, and decide to not mention what just happened to Diluc. Spot was probably bored – you just needed to buy him more toys. 

But soon, new toys weren’t working. The Geovishap destroyed everything you gave him, including his own bed, and Diluc was beginning to get suspicious. He was scratching furniture and knocking things off high places. He even started to dig holes all over the yard and continuously terrorize the local fauna. 

It was Diluc’s idea to bring Spot back to Liyue and you reluctantly agreed with him. 

Spot doesn’t fit in your satchel anymore so you carry him in your arms. You pat his head and squeeze him tightly, not wanting to let go so soon. When you get to the place where you found Spot, you sigh sadly. 

“I guess this is it,” You say. 

Diluc walks ahead of you and observes the area, “He’ll like it here. There’s more room to run around here than my winery.” 

He can’t help but feel…sad? He can’t imagine why – he had wanted that thing gone since the moment you brought it home. But now that the time has actually come, his chest is aching. 

“Are you going to miss him?” You wonder. 

Diluc shakes his head, pushing any thoughts of longing to the back of his head, “Miss my yard getting demolished? I don’t think so.” 

A sad-smile crossed your face, “I’m going to miss him.” 

It makes sense why. You nurtured and fed this monster back to prime health. You created a bond with him – possibly never-before-done by any living human. You truly and deeply cared for him. 

You squat and let Spot step onto the ground. He sits by your bent knee and stares at you with curious eyes. “At the end of the day, Spot is a monster,” You say. “He’s a carnivorous predator, it was a matter of time before someone got hurt, but…he was fun to have around.” 

Diluc hums in agreement. Sure, getting his antique sofa ripped to shreds was nothing less of an annoyance but he didn’t mind getting greeted at the door everyday. You stare at Spot for a while longer before standing up and taking a step back. “Ready?” Diluc asks. 

“As I’ll ever be.” Diluc holds his hand out to you and you take it, lacing your fingers together and squeezing his palm. 

You breathe in deeply, warm summer-air filling your chest, and look over your shoulder one last time. Spot stands on two-legs and watches you walk away until something catches his attention and he rolls after it. And just like that, he’s gone. 

“We can get a cat,” Diluc suggests on the way home. 

You laugh sadly, “Sure. We can name him Spot Two.” 

“Perfect.” 

a/n: shameless self-promo time? LOL -- if you want a new server to join, consider this one :3 everyone is super nice and we talk about all things genshin (and harry styles)

#diluc x reader #genshin x reader #diluc x you #genshin impact #genshin #genshin self insert #genshin x you #diluc x gn!reader #genshin fic #genshin drabble #genshin hcs #diluc drabble #genshin fluff #diluc fluff #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc ragnivindr x reader

[the-fiction-witch]

Life

Media Doctor Who

Character The Doctor (Eleventh)

Couple Doctor X Reader (Prior Companion)

Rating Sweet Af

This is a lil trial so if you like it! let me know!

I scrubbed the bottles and cups with my sponge and hummed to myself when I perked up as I heard the unmistakable sound. I set down my dishes and headed out of my little house to see the familiar blue box on my garden grass. The door opened and he stepped out looking almost exactly as I last saw him but there was more gravity to his eyes, more darkness there than I had last seen. He wore the same suit his hair the same and he smiled at me.

I chuckled as I put my hands in my pockets, "Been a while since I saw you doctor,"

"Did I inspire you?" He smirked as he looked at my outfit,

I looked down at my outfit, my little white sneakers, my black leggings, long sleeve white t-shirt, blue pinafore and white headband in my hair, "Somewhat." I shrugged putting my hands in my pockets, "How long has it been for you? Since we saw each other last?"

"...I don't know," he sighed, "I'm fairly convinced... a few months, a few years, It's hard to keep track of these things."

"Six years."

"Six?"

"Six years since you left."

"...God I've wasted time." He sighed running a hand over his face,

"It's alright, I know it passes quick for you,"

"It never gets any easier. To see how people change when I come back." He explained,

"What are you doing here?"

"... a bit of a farewell tour, I had to come visit one of my favourite humans."

"Quiet the compliment, Tea?" I offered,

"Pop the kettle on Y/n." He smiled so I led him into the house, "quiet the place,"

"Well I had time," I laughed, "You still take Three sugars?" I asked as I went to the kitchen and began to make two cups of tea the basic reflex of it all coming back to me even after six years to make the two teas as perfectly desired,

"You still remember? Still, care?"

"Hard not to care about a man you spent so long of your life flying around space and time with," I laughed handing him his tea and taking my own having a seat on the sofa,

He had a sip and sat down beside me and we chatted between the sips of tea, "what have you been up to then? the last six years."

"Living I suppose, It's a little strange to just come back and settle into a normal life after everything... I mean... You took me to the edge of the universe. To the beginning and the end of time. To sights and sounds, I'd never even imagined... And then I come back and ... get a mortgage"

"Ugh normality," he grimaced,

"It's not all bad, I've built a decent if... dull life by comparison."

"You miss it? Travelling?"

"I miss it. But... life goes on. I'm happy."

"I'm glad to hear it." He smiled, "That you're enjoying it,"

"I am." I nodded,

"Do you ever think of about going back?" he asked,

"I don't know," I answered, "So much has changed,"

"You like living here then? No more living out of suitcases and the tardis' wardrobes exploring the ends of the universe."

I giggled, "No, no more of that. I like living here. Built a career, a life, filled my house with trinkets from adventures."

"quiet the life, all that's left is a wedding and a baby,"

I did my best to save face but, "I uhh yeah... divorced so."

"Oh... sorry. I-"

"It's alright, don't worry over it,"

"I am sorry, really I am sorry," he said as he took my hand, "I don't mean to bring up bad memories,"

"It's fine. really." I nodded squeezing his hand,

"Anything else I should know I missed?"

I smiled and squeezed his hand tugging him with me as I set down my mug, I led him upstairs to the bedroom I let him go and headed inside to the room filled with stary wallpaper, sweet blue fabrics, the shadow of the star lamp on the ceiling, and the little crib to the side, I leant on the side of the crib and he came over to have a look too.

He smiled and leant on the crib with me too, he laughed and looked down at him.

"This is Danny,"

"Danny." he smiled, "I love it, perfect name, brilliant name," He smiled, "May I?"

"So long as you don't wake him, doctor," I laughed picking Danny up and handing him over,

"Ohhh Hello," he smiled as he held Danny in his arms, "You're my new best friend aren't you Danny,"

"Ohh I bet he will be," I smiled, "He loves stories about you,"

"He does?"

"Of course, he loves them. there his favourite stories for bedtime," I smiled, "Ohh almost forgot, he'll get grumpy without his favourite toy." I laughed as I took Danny's little crotchet sonic screwdriver from the crib and let Danny hold it in his little hand,

"You made it for him?"

"Yeah, I figured he'd like it."

"Maybe, he always waves it at the light switch when he wants them turned on,"

"Like his own little sonic screwdriver," he chuckled, "He'll be ready to head off through time and space pretty soon,"

"I think so," I laughed,

"You're a very good mother to him Y/n,"

"I do my best," I laughed,

"You must be, he loves your stories, loves his toys gets his beautiful eyes from you,"

"I kinda hope he didn't get much from his father,"

"Was his father that bad?"

"He was a jackass. some men are."

"Some men are." He chuckled before he pulled out his screwdriver pointing it to the starlight and after a few seconds, the cheap white star and moon-shaped shadows turned into vibrant colours and views of the stars of planets, stars, and galaxies full of colour and life, moving gently with a spin and sweep across the white ceiling.

"You-"

"My little gift. for Danny," He smiled, "so he can look up at the stars,"

"Thank you," I smiled,

he set Danny back in his crib to sleep, and we headed back to the sofa,

"Why are you here doctor?" I asked,

"Visiting." He smiled,

"You haven't visited once in six years, why not?"

"Because I missed you, I miss everyone but... I missed you most."

"Thank you, I missed you too."

"did you ever think that you'd be a mother back when we were travelling? Or did you ever think about it when travelling the universes, settling down and having a child?" He asked,

"Admit it very rarely entered my mind. So much else going on." I explained holding my mug in hand and stroking it between my fingers, "But it had always been there the desire to settle down and have a child."

"You deserve to finally rest and raise a child, life is hard and it's nice to have a little bit of hope and peace in your life. I just hope that you are truly happy that you are finally able to settle down somewhere and be content,"

"I am happy," I nodded, "But... can I tell you a secret?"

"I won't tell a soul,"

I blushed running my hands along the curve of the mug, "I always thought It would be with you... Settling down I mean. Crossed my mind more than once over all those years to imagine a room in the Tardis with a crib and a universe's worth of toys, and a baby... with you,"

He blushed a little, "Really?" He asked, "We went through so much together and now you're telling me you were really thinking about settling down with me,"

"I did. Guess I was a stupid little girl then..."

His smile widened, "You weren't stupid,"

"No?"

"No, and if it means anything. I was thinking about it too."

"What?"

"I did,"

"why didn't you ever tell me?"

"All of time and space... I never found the time," He said, "but I did always wonder about what would have happened if we did just settle down and have a nice quiet little life together,"

"it would have been nice... It must have been hard then ... To just leave me here?"

"I wanted you to stay with me... that's the thing, that was the hardest for me, it was extremely difficult leaving you. I wanted to stay and stay with you forever,"

I finally met his eyes, "Wanted? or still want?"

he didn't answer leaving us in silence for a moment before his hand gently took my cheek and his lips pressed gently against my own, I blushed hard and softly kissed back, until he pulled away his nose against my own,

"Do you really need me to answer that?"

"...More than anything,"

"Yes, it's always been yes. always will be yes." He smiled as he happily kissed me again, I kissed back excitedly until we pulled away.

"If it is still what you want," I whispered, "It's here waiting for you,"  

#mattsmith #matt smith #doctor who #doctor who eleven #eleventh doctor #eleventhdoctor #doctor x reader

[yanderes-galore]

Thank you so much for accepting mine early, I'm not sure how to confirm that it's me but if you need any sort of proof lemme know and I can dm you I suppose!

Anyway I wanted to ask for either headcanons or a scenario (if you need me to choose I'd choose a scenario, but I'm happy with either!) For Cicero in skyrim!! Reader is the listener, as per usual (in regards to reader inserts involving Cicero I mean, hehe). I like to think Cicero is Quite the devoted little guy, with a slight crush even before they become listener (specifically if the reader helps him at the Lorieus(sp?) Farm). Them becoming the listener was simply the nail in the coffin Already for him to fully dedicate himself to them <3

(Bonus: I think Cicero has a shrine of the reader in some way. Just little trinkets and tokens that either represent the listener or that used to even Belong to the listener and went "missing".)

Hope that's good enough flavour text!!! Again thank you for the early request acceptance, I really really appreciate it <3 <3

- Dirk Anon!

I decided last minute to merge the two Cicero requests as they both wanted a concept, I'll probably do a scenario later with the ideas I make in this! Sorry for the sudden change but I hope you enjoy regardless.

Yandere! Cicero Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Delusional behavior, Worship yandere, Manipulation, Murder/Death, Violence, Some disturbing descriptions, Blood, Jealousy, Dubious/Forced relationship

Cicero is certainly the delusional yet devoted type.

What makes him quite bad is he's an assassin.

Which means he's quite skilled and used to murder.

In fact he gets excited about it in voice lines.

You could've met him when his wagon broke or met him at the Dark Brotherhood.

(Personally I met him at the Dark Brotherhood since I fast travel too much)

His obsession is quick when he learns you're the listener yet subtle before that.

His first impression are you're just another new assassin.

New like him to this location.

He has a feeling you'll be good for the job but isn't sure why.

It isn't until you get a few jobs done and are then instructed by Astrid to spy on him that things click.

It's here he learns you're The Listener.

One meant to fulfill an important role for the Dark Brotherhood.

His obsession develops from here.

He now knows why you're so important.

Mother has picked you! While at first he was envious... he begins not to mind much.

He waits for you to come back from jobs and put pieces of the big plan to get rid of the Emperor.

As he is not your follower yet he's still a bit tame.

His obsession is mostly kept under wraps.

He does indeed steal some stuff from your room to make a small shrine dedicated to you and your work.

It's filled with random trinkets, weapons... fluids (blood).

He often praises you for your recent work and holds you in high regard.

He loves that you please Mother!

Even with the fall of the current Dark Brotherhood he sticks by you.

He doesn't feel bad that he attacked some members for disrespecting you and Mother.

If anything they deserved it.

He doesn't understand why you look so upset about it, either!

You had come to hunt him down to the old location of the Dark Brotherhood, he could see the annoyance on your face.

What probably solidifies his obsession is the mercy you give him.

You allowed him to live, maybe even using a healing spell before leaving.

He didn't see you again until you moved the Dark Brotherhood location and became the leader.

It's then he decides to show himself as your servant.

After that he never parts from you.

He had already moved his shrine to the older location before the fire caused by the failed assassination of the Emperor.

He even continues to grow his shrine as he follows you about.

He collects souvenirs from your assassinations and never stops following you.

He is devote to the Night Mother and you.

He loves how you yourself are dedicated to the job.

Regardless on if you like him or not, Cicero promises to help serve you in your duties.

Cicero has no problems with targeting those around you.

They could be people attacking you, or maybe he's even jealous you're giving new recruits attention.

Either way... Cicero is rather trigger happy.

He feels the best way to impress you is being stained in the aftermath of a job!

Surely you don't mind the sight of blood, you're used to that!

Cicero insists on coming to every assassination job you do.

He wants to witness your work!

He would not abduct you, no, you have way too much work!

Instead he just wants to follow and help!

He soaks in every bit of attention you give him like and eager sponge!

He isn't a big one for intimacy.

Although the slightest touch you give makes him pause for a moment.

Maybe he does like this?

Cicero would do anything to help aid you...

He wants to kill for you... he wants to do it a lot...!

More than anything... he wants your approval and praise as The Listener.

#yandere skyrim #yandere cicero