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#like a koala bear to a tree

aphroditesmoon · 3 months

Note

Clarisse always treats Reader dryly in front of her brothers, but out of sight she's just a teddy bear

YES SHE IS

she has no problem with walking together with her arm around your shoulder, but thats about it.

and though the two of you have establisbed common pet names like babe, etc, no one else especially her siblings do NOT need to know that your favourite nickname for her is cuddlebear.

she likes to hold on to you like a koala on a tree, but gods forbid she admits that she likes being a little spoon.

she makes sure the cabins r EMPTY whenever yall r hanging out together, one noise and shes rolling off the bed.

you think its quite silly that she cares so much to look tough, but it is important for her to look terrifying to live up to her reputation.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #pjo series #pjo tv show #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #dior goodjohn

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sonarspace · 24 days

Text

wishes

a/n: it’s my birthday :3 so this is just a very self indulgent post. you can imagine whoever you want :). content: jjk x reader. kinda soft birthday sex (nsfw). wc: ~ 500

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. you feel soft lips littering kisses on your face. you blink your eyes open to his gleaming face “happy birthday,” he whispers. his fingers trace your skin, pushing back the hair sticking to your face trying to see you in your entire beauty. the sleepiness evident in your slightly heavy eyes. your smile bright enough to make the sun shy away.

the moon shines through the curtains just enough that he’s sure you’re an angel fallen from heaven. and he thinks god must exist cause you exist. and you’re here in his bed — every night. he makes a silent promise to himself to never take you for granted and love you with his entire being.

one peck. two pecks. three pecks. a silent vow to love you forever. you giggle his name. it sounded so sweet from your lips, he never wants it uttered by anyone but you. “thank you,” you whisper shyly a blush creeping up your neck when he looks at you like you’re the only thing tethering him to the world.

overwhelmed by love, he grabs your face and kisses you fully. his lips slot over yours like they were made to only kiss you. needy and wanting to be as close as he can — his hands move under your tank. his finger tips draw mindless patterns on the expanse of your skin of your stomach. your legs wrap around his waist pulling him in closer to you.

his tongue moves over yours. trying memorize every little papillae. he sucks in your tongue into his mouth after a while. trying to imprint your taste into his taste buds. he whines when he feels you buck up into him. your nipples perked through your tank and hitting his bare chest.

he pulls away and licks a stripe from the base of your throat to the underside of your jaw. he sucks at the tender flesh there — a love bite. you push down his boxers impatiently. a shiver passes through your body when you feel him chuckle into your shoulder at your eagerness. he grabs your hands and laces them together. his callouses rough and your hand soft, gripped into his as he slowly pushes into you.

the initial push has him seeing white. so warm and snug around him. he breathes heavily as he asks you for a minute. soon he starts moving in and out of you. “faster,” you whimper after a while. his name on your lips begging him to bring you closer to your orgasm. “shh. birthday girls don’t beg”. he replies cheekily. your hand grips his tightly as he angles his thrusts to bring you as much as pleasure as he could. pressing against that one spot that has you quickly unraveling.

your clenching has him following suit and he moans your name continuously like a prayer. leaving a kiss wherever he could. his head takes home in your neck once more. he’s still in you as he wraps himself around you like a koala bear wraps a tree branch and whispers ‘i love you’s into your skin.

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.

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centipedelightning · 6 months

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Hi there I was wondering how you think the skeleboys (especially the papyrus's) would fel about a really tall S/O like I'm talking like just a little under 8 feet tall (they could be a monster if that helps). Established romantic relationship.

(Underfell, undertale, underswap plus dealers' choice again if you want :D)

PS: Love your work. You're totally underrated

skdjgdskj This is so fun. and thank you!! I'm glad you like my stuff!! tbh I think I'm average rated when you consider the fact that I never fucking post dkfghkg. I don't want to talk about how old this request is...

| UT/UF/US x Super Tall!gn!Reader || Romantic || fluff |

Sans

Listen

He's already a pretty short guy.

So he's used to being towered over.

But eight feet?? Yeah, you aren't getting away with it.

Sans is standing on Everything to be at eye level with you.

Everything.

I hope you like being big spoon because that is what you will be for the rest of forever.

Damn near every time he wants to kiss you, he will make a joke about climbing a tree/mountain/skyscraper.

The only way to shut him up is to lean down and kiss him. Please do he's not afraid to reuse old material and that's when it gets super painful to listen to.

The lazybones is never going to reach for anything again. Ever.

Papyrus

He's already used to being shorter than a number of other Monsters, so he doesn't think too much of it.

If you were a human he would make a surprised comment about how he didn't know humans could get so tall, but that would be the extent of it.

He actually likes when you have to lean down to kiss him. It makes him fluttery because he is the one that usually has to stoop down.

He loves dancing around with you! For similar reasons to the kissing thing, he's usually the one to lead because he's usually taller, so your relationship is a welcome change.

If you ever dare to rest your arm on his head or noogie him he will a) complain loudly and b) go apologize to Sans because he's "NEVER REALIZED THE STRUGGLES OF BEING SO SHORT".

Red

This guy has a complex okay.

Instead of joking with your height, he'll joke against it.

i.e. he will do whatever he can to jokingly treat you like you are short.

If you are sitting down anywhere, Red is gonna drag a stool or chair over, get up on it, and joke about you being short.

Don't you dare hit your head on a doorframe you will never hear the end of it.

Shameless in just dragging you down to his level when he wants a kiss.

You two can go to bed in any cuddling position you want, you're more than likely going to wake up with Red koala bear-ed to your side.

Good luck getting out of there by the way; his grip strength is surprisingly intense.

Edge

In a similar vein to Papyrus, Edge is used to people being taller than him. He's just also whiny about it.

He'll try to "prove himself" in every little way he can regardless of how annoying it might be. Tall shelf? Prepare to get shoved out of the way so Edge can get it for you despite the fact that you are significantly taller.

He won't say it but he does appreciate not needing to hunch over to talk to people.

He will say that he doesn't like looking up so far. He'll say it constantly.

Lovesss clothing shopping with you. The man has taste and money. You will never struggle for well-fitted, good-looking clothes.

He has his besties at the tailors that will soon become your besties as well. The hottest power couple ever truly.

Dogamy and Dogaressa look out.

Blue

So fine. So, so fine.

On his best behaviour really!

Blue pulls the same "prove he's capable by doing tall things for you" shtick Edge does but he's completely unaware he's doing it.

If you say you're gonna get up and get a glass of water, he's already in the kitchen telling you he's got it. Not a setup if you're more lazily-inclined.

Do you treasure your teeth? I hope not.

He will jump up to kiss you and by god can that man put some oomph into a jump.

If he starts looking at you with a suspicious glint in his eyelight do yourself a favour and just lean down.

Stretch

Little spoons. That's his number one activity with you.

Due to his height, Stretch can't usually be the person who gets cuddled vs. does the cuddling so you are very exciting for him.

Love love loves rotting on the couch with you.

If you're a human, his favorite spot is to lay on your chest and doze while listening to your heartbeat.

If you're a Monster, it's more in the center of your sternum to listen to the magical buzz of your soul.

You will experience more pranks than you think you can bear. You know the plastic wrap across a doorframe prank? Yeah.

You have been lured into a false sense of confidence because if Stretch is tall, he wouldn't possibly pull that kind of bullshit on you right? He would have to trip his own trap right?

Don't underestimate Monster building codes. Those doorways are Tall. He has room.

After a certain point, you learn to just duck through every doorway.

It doesn't help.

#sans x reader #papyrus x reader #undertale x reader #undertale scenarios #undertale imagines #sans undertale #papyrus undertale #underfell #underswap #x reader #reader insert #ut!sans #ut!papyrus #uf!sans #uf!papyrus #us!sans #us!papyrus #•centipede writes•#undertale

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finelinevogue · 7 months

Text

hot summer nights

summary - a warm summers evening with your one and only

word count - >1k

Summer had finally arrived. In Autumn.

August had rolled into September and everyone was preparing for wet weather, thunderstorms and miserable grey clouds.

So it was a surprise to everyone when the sun decided to come out and the temperatures decided to shoot up to the high 20s in the first week of September.

And good weather meant only one thing in the UK; beer garden.

You and Harry were currently getting ready to go, having texted the group chat of your closest friends for you to all meet at ‘The Rose Inn’ at 6PM.

Harry had decided to have a shower, dragging you in behind him even though you really didn’t need one. He just couldn’t keep you away from him for too long.

After you, too long, shower, Harry started looking for an outfit whilst you dried your hair.

Harry offered to finish drying the rest off for you whilst you started on your makeup, knowing how much you hate being late. Your makeup would’ve been done faster if Harry hadn’t been stood behind you with just a towel around his waist.

The both of you cleaned up very nicely.

Harry was wearing some beige linen trousers, a white t-shirt and a baby blue cardigan, whilst you wore a gorgeous baby pink dress that had a floral pattern on. Both of you looked summer ready.

“Babe! Let’s go!” You shouted to Harry, who was nowhere to be seen since about half an hour ago.

You pulled your pink Stompers, yes you call them Stompers, out of the shoe cupboard and slip them on, knowing that Harry will already be wearing his and you can match.

You go to the mirror in the hallway and readjust your hair that’s slipping out of place already.

This stupid heat.

You walked into the kitchen to grab some snacks in case you got hungry, before returning to the hallway.

“H?” You called out again. “C’mon let’s go!”

You looked at your phone and noticed you were already running ten minutes late. If you were another ten minutes late then you might as well not go.

The sound of the back door shutting caught you off guard and you suddenly understood where he had been.

You heard the sound of jingles before you saw anything. You crouched down on the floor in preparation for your Cavapoo to bound up to you and give you lots of kisses.

“Hello!” You said in your dog voice as Fred rounded the corner. Fred, Freddie, Frederick - whatever you wanted to call him - was your two year old Cavapoo that Harry had bought you to keep you company when he was on tour.

“Hello there my gorgeous little baby.” You entertained Fred as you heard Harry walk through the kitchen towards you.

When he emerged, you felt your breath hitch a little.

He looked so good.

You had seen him half an hour ago and he still looked the same, but damn did he look good. There was something about him today that made you just want to stick to him like a koala bear would a tree. He looked so soft and… yours.

“What?” He asked, looking down at where you were looking up at him.

“Nothing, just… admiring you.”

“Okay, alright.” He smiled with a heavy blush, “Let’s go before I turn red.”

“You already are red.”

“Shut up and move your cute arse.” He giggled, pulling his sunglasses over his eyes.

Harry attached Fred’s lead onto his harness and handing you over the leash, as the two of you made your way outside.

The pub wasn’t that far away from you two, so walking was the easiest option for getting there. Of course, you do live in the countryside so you have to hurdle some styles and dodge some cows, but the country walks are always your favourite.

The air is fresh and clean and the world feels a little bit more yours out here. You’re in control and Harry is too. You can decide your own choices.

Then again, you are only a twenty minute drive into London if you want to be.

Fred enjoyed the walk as much as you did. Harry walked alongside you, walking on the outside of the pavement when he needed to and he held your hand the entire time. Even when you were both getting a little clammy from the heat, he just moved to holding one finger of yours instead.

“Mrs Brown came over this morning, did I tell you?” Harry said, as you were a few minutes away from approaching the pub.

“What? When I went shopping?” You asked, being forced to stop by Fred who was sniffing for something amongst the grass.

“Yeah. She offered to bake us some strawberry tarts for your birthday party. I said yes, obviously.”

“We’re going to have so many desserts, H.” You laughed.

“Yeah, but mums bringing pizzas and pasta salads remember? And I think Gem is making some sort of vegan Greek dish. We’ll be fine.”

Harry kissed your forehead to keep you from stressing, before shouting to Fred to hurry up.

“Can you make your treacle pudding too?” You asked shyly.

“Just for you, though.” Harry nodded.

“Just for me.” You hummed in delight. “Ah, it’s going to be a good birthday.”

“Our fifth one of yours together.”

“Really? I’ve put up with you for that long? Wow.” You teased.

Harry tugged on your hand for you to stop, pretending to scoff and then pulling you against his chest tightly so you couldn’t escape. He kissed you then and there, on the side of the road, like you both had no tomorrow. One hand around your waist and the other still attached to your hand.

Both of you melted into one another and neither pulled away first. You both had to move, though, when Fred started getting restless and excited over his parents together.

“Never stop doing that.” You smiled up at him with stars in your eyes.

“What?” He smiled back.

“Surprising me. Kissing me.” You pecked his lips again for a short moment. “Loving me.”

“It’s not even possible to think about.” Harry meant it as he kissed you again, softly.

The summer breeze chose this moment to blow and it made your hair blow like crazy. Your dress blew with it and you noticed Harry’s cardigan flap open a little too. It looked like some shot out of a perfume photoshoot.

Harry helped you straighten out your dress and reorganise your hair, before kissing you again.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles summer #boyfriendrry fic

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pucksandpower · 1 year

Text

Daniel Ricciardo x valentine!Reader - Social Media AU

yourusername

Liked by danielricciardo, f1wagupdates, 117,483 others

yourusername he spoils me

View all 906 comments

danielricciardo you deserve everything and more

yourusername you’re just saying that because you want to see what i bought from agent provocateur for tonight

danielricciardo this is a trap, right?

yourusername i don’t know, you tell me

danielricciardo i love you very much and i also want to see you in the sexy lingerie you’ve been hiding away … please put me out of my misery already

yourusername i will if you’re a good boy for the rest of the day

danielricciardo i’m always a good boy 😉

maxverstappen1 that’s it. i can’t take it anymore. i’m going to bleach my eyeballs and then unfollow both of you and then bleach my eyeballs again

f1wagupdates daniel is literally everything i want in a man

honeymybadger he’s so perfect it’s not fair

danielricciardo

Liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 591,276 others

danielricciardo my koala bear

View all 2,183 comments

yourusername because i’m cute and cuddly?

danielricciardo because you’re fluffy and can sleep all day long

yourusername 😐

danielricciardo and because you’re cute and cuddly

yourusername better

landonorris actually it’s because he’s australian and you climb him like a tree

paddockgirlie feeling more single than ever

gossipgrid you’re not alone. charles leclerc feels the same way

paddockgirlie too soon 😭

yourusername

Liked by danielricciardo, redbullracing, and 128,594 others

yourusername my forever valentine

View all 1,152 comments

redbullracing but the real question is did you name the teddy bear?

danielricciardo you mean danny jr.

yourusername guess who named him?

danielricciardo guilty

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celtic-crossbow · 1 month

Text

Series Masterlist

©celtic-crossbow 2024. I do not allow for my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or placed on any other platform without my consent.

Chapter 20

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; gunshot wound; injuries; blood; allusions to child abuse; allusions to SA; poorly written smut; oral (fem rec); fingering; p in v; panic attacks

A/N: Dear gods, this one is long and full of a million feels! This will be the last chapter for a long while. It will be on hold in favor of finishing Blood Ties but then, it will be finished before any other endeavors. The song I chose for the later part of this chapter is one I recommend listening to while reading it. The lyrics and soft music helped shape this and I hope you like the end result.

Daryl was dizzy. Beyond relieved to have you latched to him like a koala but mostly just physically dizzy. Still, he couldn’t seem to summon the desire to let go. You were whimpering against his good shoulder, trembling something fierce. “We gotta go. S’not safe here.” It took another moment for your legs to begin their descent, your body sliding against his in a way that forced a grunt out of him while his face flushed. Not the time for that particular part of his anatomy to wake up. Clearing his throat, he loosened his hold and shifted his hips away from you. “Place’ll be full’a the dead soon. Gotta go while ev’ryone’s distracted.”

You nodded, nearly glancing back to where Todd had fallen, just for one more fragment of affirmation that he was gone, truly gone.

“He ain’t gonna hurtcha no more.” Daryl pressed a palm against the small of your back, and you responded, moving with him toward the door. He stuck his head out first, internally mapping a way to safety before he even thought of letting you follow. Offering his hand, you took it without a single ounce of hesitation.

You could hardly believe you were really outside. With Daryl. There was no time to revel in the victory, however. It was instant walker-dodging, trying to make it into the forest and out of sight before the living threats realized you had escaped. There would be hell to pay once they had gathered their bearings. You could only hope that you were all back behind the prison gates before that happened.

Daryl weaved through the forest with a skillful ease that you envied, though you noticed he was beginning to flag after only a few moments. His focus seemed to dwindle, nearly leading you headlong into a cluster of walkers before you tugged him to a stop behind a tree.

Pressed tightly together, chest to chest, you got your first good look at the archer. He was gasping and slick with sweat, perhaps from the run but you were hardly even winded. There was a pallor to his skin that had worry slithering around in your gut like a constrictor, weaving its way into your chest the more you scrutinized his state.

“Y’okay?” He lifted his chin toward you and gestured toward his own face. You hadn’t really thought of how horrible you must look, beaten bloody in a revealing set of lingerie. Hopefully he couldn’t see your blush around the bruising.

It wouldn’t have bothered you before his introduction into your life. Hell, it didn’t bother you. It had been your job, your sole purpose. You were molded to believe that you only existed for men to touch and ogle and use. Your time at the prison with kind people you had thought extinct had shown you otherwise,

“Where are we meeting up with everyone?” You leaned around the tree, the shuffling of leaves and snapping of twigs growing further away along with the symphony of groans and snarls. Three stragglers were still too close for the two of you to safely move without alerting the majority. While Daryl could traipse the landscape like a ghost, you may as well set off fireworks with each step. The hunter remained quiet. You only assumed he saw something you didn’t and tucked yourself back against the tree. He was gnawing on the side of his thumb, seemingly avoiding your quizzical stare. “Daryl?”

“Need to find a place for the night.” He was deflecting.

“Where’s Rick? Carol?” Your eyes narrowed, suspicious. He leaned out much as you had moments before and gave you a nod.

“Let’s go this way.” He took a step to pass you, but you caught him around his middle. The archer heaved a sigh and dropped his head. “They ain’t with me.” You blanched.

“You came alone?” It came out higher than you’d intended, prompting a stern shushing from Daryl. Lowering your voice to an aggressive whisper, you continued. “Why would you do that? You were—oh god, Daryl, you were hurt!”

“M’fine. Let’s get—”

“You shouldn’t be here. Not alone. I’m not worth it. I’m not worth your life. I thought I made that clear.”

“Stop that shit! Ya are worth it!” Daryl clapped back, stepping back into your space. You flinched. He wasn’t trying to intimidate you, so he held up his hands and put some space between the two of you. “You’re worth it, Y/N. Anyone that tells ya diff’rent can come talk to me.” He added softly, shifting his gaze with a nervous tapping of fingers against his hip.

You swallowed hard around the sudden lump in your throat. Without the ability to speak at that moment, he would need to accept the jerky movement of your head as agreement.

“Let’s go. Need to put some distance between us an’ them ‘fore nightfall.”

You were crouched behind the bush, not moving a single muscle. If you could possibly stop breathing, you would have. Daryl was in his element, crossbow leveled, eyes laser focused. You never got the chance to hunt with him. You were certain that, after this, you would never let him go without you again.

There was so much to learn. The way he followed trails, the slightest disturbances on the forest floor you weren’t able to see. He knew what he was following, knew that it had an injury. All from something on the ground that looked like nothing more than a thin layer of leaves and sticks to you.

The click swoosh of the crossbow still startled you but was easily brushed off. Shouldering his crossbow gingerly, Daryl retrieved the rabbit by the ears and returned to you, holding it up slightly as if seeking your approval.

“Ain’t the turkey I was trackin’ but it’ll feed us.”

You beamed at him. “Bird or bunny, I don’t care. I’m just hungry.” You had eaten a little with the Governor but hardly enough to satiate the hunger that caused your stomach to cramp. Daryl hummed with a nod and looked around somewhat aimlessly.

“Need to find someplace to hole up for the night. Gonna hafta go outta the way a lil’. They’ll be searchin’ the routes back to the prison.”

“Do we even know the way back?” You asked without thinking. The look he shot you was almost comical. “Right. Stupid question.”

“C’mon.”

The two of you walked for what felt like hours, your feet scratched and aching, the stockings catching and tearing on almost everything. The irony wasn’t lost on you, the first time he’d rescued you and where you were at that moment. Both times found you in skimpy attire and ending up without shoes. At least now, you weren’t afraid that he was set on raping or beating you.

“Hang on.” You couldn’t take the discomfort for another second. Daryl stopped immediately and looked back with concern that was quick to shift into something else, his cheeks reddening. You were shimmying off the garter belt entirely and discarding it along with the stockings, leaving only the bustier and thong. “Much better.”

“Didn’t, uh—didn’t grab anythin’ extra this time. Sorry.”

“You could always give me your underwear again.” You teased, watching the blush deepen and spread to his neck and ears.

“Stop.” He grumbled. Turning on his heel, he took a step and paused, without looking back. “Do ya—if ya really need—”

“No.” You laughed, not at him but the situation. “Keep your drawers. I’m good.” The man grunted and continued on in front of you. If someone had told you all those weeks ago that you’d be goading a handsome man about his underwear, you would have laughed at them. Well, you probably wouldn’t have since at that point, you’d forgotten how to laugh. You would have been shocked to say the least.

Everything was so vastly different now. New challenges and emotions to navigate your way through. The more profound of each of those being Daryl. Your feelings for him were strong and mostly unfamiliar. Desire, you’d felt that before, once upon a time. You could recall it from your life before. But you wanted him. In every way.

Every way.

Not just physically. And oh, did you want that part of him. This was heavier than that, so much deeper. A vast ocean that’s depths were terrifying but held beauty that called to you. Daryl was complex but beautiful. He was the first breath of spring as winter melted away, the scent of reawakenings and new life. He was that moment when the ominous darkness of a storm parted just enough for the blue sky to peer through. Dangerous, lethal but offering tenderness and safety behind his minaciousness.

You wanted to know his heart, hold it and keep it safe. You wanted to see his soul, wanted him to bare it to you willingly and tell you his secrets, his inner wars that he had battled alone. You wanted to fight them for him and let him rest. You wanted to touch his scars, show him gentleness where someone had marked him with cruelty.

But you would want forever.

You weren’t what Daryl deserved. He was worthy of the world and you could only offer him a chasm, dark and damaged and unrepairable.

You could want until the end of time.

You were dismally prepared to do just that.

God, he was exhausted. If walking for hours wasn’t enough reason, carrying himself as if he wasn’t suffering was wearing him down quickly. Hunger and thirst were turning his stomach inside out, but he couldn’t stop. He had to get you somewhere safe. Then he would rest. Actually rest. He still had water from the river and preparing the rabbit would be easy enough, allowing him to sit and give his tired, aching body a break.

“Daryl?”

He loved how his name rolled off your tongue. Focus, Dixon! “Hmm?”

“You, uh—are you okay? Really?”

He hesitated. He didn’t want you to worry. Causing you more stress after what you’d been through would be selfish. He just needed to find shelter. Anything would do at this point as long he could barricade it and there could be a fire, either inside or out. The weather was mild, the changing of seasons from summer to autumn. He would only need the fire to cook the rabbit.

“Daryl?”

Oh. You had asked him a question. “M’fine. Just tired.” You made a noncommittal sound, making it obvious that you knew something was off. Damnit. “Shoulder’s buggin’ me. Ain’t no big deal.”

“Maybe we should stop for a while.”

He had to admit, it was tempting. The problem was that if he stopped, he wasn’t sure he could get back up. “Nah, m’good.” As Dixon luck would have it, his body chose that moment to betray him. Daryl stumbled, the dizziness overwhelming him. He tried to lower to a knee, but as the ground shifted and drew closer, he tilted and his injured shoulder took the brunt of the fall. The desperate noise he heard was dampened beneath the onslaught of pain, the only indication that it was coming from him being the burn in his throat.

“Daryl! Goddamnit, you’re bleeding.”

Your face hovered over him, blurring in and out of focus like a camera steadying for the perfect shot. The canopy above you served as a stunning background for an image he would try his damndest to commit to memory. The trees acted as umbrellas, issuing the perfect amount of the bluest sky and filtering the light to a flawless dapple. It presented an ethereal halo to your already faultless beauty.

“Daryl. I need you to get up.”

There was an urgency to your tone that he couldn’t seem to react to, his brow knitting. When he tried to question, he wasn’t sure his mouth was even moving. Then you were gone. There was an overwhelming impulse to panic with your sudden absence. Daryl grabbed at that feeling and held on tight, using its influence to force his body to cooperate. He rolled onto his uninjured side, back protesting. A rucksack and crossbow do not perform adequately as a pillow. With a grunt, he lifted his head.

You were fending off four walkers on your own with his knife. No, you were driving them back. Daryl kept his eyes on you as he endeavored to make it to at least a sitting position. You kicked one back, unable to take it down before you cut off another that was getting too close to him. They could smell the blood, thick and coppery in the air. Jesus, how badly had he torn the wound?

He couldn’t fire the gun, even if it would be more effective. It would alert both the living and more of the dead. Maneuvering the crossbow from his back was painstakingly complicated, but soon enough, he was using his legs to hold it in place while he pulled the string back. He was only briefly ashamed of the whines and whimpers he couldn’t manage to stifle, his shoulder throbbing something awful. With the string captured by the latch, he was quick to load a bolt, trusting his ability enough to lift and fire with minimal aim.

The walker you were grappling dropped in a heap, your wide eyes seeking out Daryl. Before he could blink, you had thrown yourself at the next closest corpse, leaving the two that brought up the rear. By the time he had managed to load another bolt, you had pulled the knife from one skull and were stabbing the next. You were angling yourself towards the last one when a bolt zipped past your face and impaled itself through the walker’s eye.

With the immediate threat neutralized, Daryl let the crossbow fall from his grasp and fell onto his back, grimacing when the lumpy rucksack reminded him of its presence. A jolt of pain in his shoulder brought on a gasp, his hand instinctively going to rest on the throbbing area and coming away red.

“Are you okay?” You appeared over him again with those big, worried eyes. For reasons he couldn’t explain, he felt annoyed. Angry, even.

“M’peachy.” He answered flatly. Against every instinct, he sat up again, swatting away your hands when you silently offered to help. He avoided looking at you. The naked concern in your expression would only serve to bring on guilt that he couldn’t process on top of physical pain.

Finally on his feet, he shouldered his crossbow and scooped up the rabbit with a grunt, walking without speaking. You followed behind but at a distance, your untrained footfalls loud.

He wasn’t truly angry, not at you. It was his own selfishness behind his irritability. How badly he wanted to let you fuss over him and touch him. The way he wanted to touch you. He knew very little about your life before Jazz and the club. Hell, you didn’t know much, couldn’t recall many things before the trauma that had taken so much of who you were. Would you ever reclaim anything from your past, despite the hell you had lived through? How many pieces were missing? Could he help you find those parts of yourself?

The answer was no.

He couldn’t even piece himself back together.

Still, he knew what he wanted. And that scared him. He wanted you, broken or whole mattered little if at all. The unfamiliar territory he was treading drove him into retreat, battling to keep the bricks from reassembling into the walls you had torn down with such a small amount of effort.

Love wasn’t a word he tossed around carelessly. It had taken months to admit he felt any sort of affection toward the group he had allied himself with, despite what he had been willing to endure for them. What he felt toward you was so much different, reaching significantly farther than the responsibility he had claimed to be the justification. He knew what his useless, battered heart was trying to tell him but he had never followed it before, relying on experience and self preservation to guide him through a life he felt was sometimes meaningless.

You deserved so much more than what he could ever offer you. You, with your damnable kindness that should have been, by every right, snuffed out by the unspeakable cruelty you had endured. All things considered, you still worked tirelessly to find yourself or some semblance of who you were meant to be. It was admirable and only made him want you more.

That just wasn’t him. It was so far away from what he knew of himself, or thought he knew. But being around you brought out a sense of comfort and acceptance he was too scared to embrace or appreciate. Getting comfortable, feeling safe, would only lead to disappointment. He had learned that with his mother and even more so with his father. Just when he thought Will Dixon could change and be the parent he had needed, Daryl would only receive another wound, another scar, another reason to never trust anyone.

Then you challenged all of that.

You were a breath of fresh air amidst the decay he was accustomed to even before the turn. The calm of the forest after a hard rain, when things were still and he could immerse himself in the tranquility before the life that dwelled there ventured out to return to normal. You radiated the warmth the sun gifted during the bite of winter’s cold. You were everything that gave him solace when he had run scared as a child, convinced that there was no goodness in the world.

You were everything he was not.

And because of that, he couldn’t reach out to you in the way he wanted. He would only break you down when you deserved to be lifted onto the highest pedestal.

You had been broken enough.

And you could shine without him.

You watched Daryl wear himself down to the point you thought his stubbornness would have him crawling rather than accepting your help. He hadn’t spoken a word to you since the walkers, even when the two of you needed to hide from another group of the dead. He refused to meet your eyes, pressing himself so hard against the tree that shielded you both that he would hiss in discomfort just to keep from touching you.

What had changed so drastically since you had left with Jazz? Why did he even come find you if he didn’t want you near him?

You were just about to attempt to talk to him when the small shack came into view. It wasn’t exactly a cabin but someone had lived there. A garden, long dead, was surrounded by short, broken fencing. An old generator was on the rickety porch-like structure with parts and rusted tools scattered around it. It was a dilapidated building but would serve the purpose.

Some of the visible tension melted out of Daryl’s shoulders. He was quite clearly exhausted and in pain. Before he could even begin to engage in anything strenuous, you jogged to catch up, holding up his knife where he could see that you still had it.

“I’ll check out the inside while you start a fire and take care of the rabbit.” You were trying for authoritative but it, of course, came out as a question. The hunter stopped halfway to the rotted wooden steps and angled his head toward you. Tired, blue eyes narrowed, studying as if solving a puzzle.

“Fine.” He huffed, dropping his bag but keeping his crossbow. He carried at his side, a silent reassurance that he was ready should you need him. Careful to avoid the weak spots, you were slow to make your way to the door. It was barely shut, hanging at an angle but maybe there would be something inside to push against it. With your hand flat on the wood, you started to open it. “Tap on it.” Daryl called quietly but loud enough for you to hear.

“What?”

“Tap on the door. The window. Just make a lil’ noise ‘fore ya go in.” He sounded exasperated but continued with his task. He probably thought you didn’t notice him watching you from the corner of his eye, finger hovering beside the trigger of his weapon.

“I doubt there’s anyone home.” You mumbled. He still likely heard you. Inwardly sighing, you tapped the blade of the knife against the doorframe. At first nothing happened. Just as you rolled your eyes and pushed against the door, something fell into it from the other side, the snarls and scratching making it obvious. When you looked back at Daryl, eyes wide, he was smirking at the circle of rocks he’d be using as a firepit.

When you sighed this time, it was one of determination. You could hear only one walker. That didn’t necessarily mean it was the only one, but if things went the way you planned, it would be simple to take out however many were inside. You were mindful of how you held the knife when you threw yourself against the door. It took two times to push the door open enough for the walker to come around it.

“The hell ya doin’?!”

“I got it.” Careful once again, you backed down the steps. “Come on.” The walker fell over the top step and tumbled, giving you an opportunity to glance at Daryl. He was aiming the crossbow, but the fact that he hadn’t fired when you both knew he could easily take it down meant that he was giving you a chance to do what you were attempting.

On its feet again, the dead woman followed you clumsily. You led her away from the structure, past the old garden, and then stopped to allow her closer.

“Y/N.” A clear warning.

“I got it, Daryl.” He should know. It was he and Carol who taught you. He had also told you that everyone fucks up sometimes. For you, this would not be one of those times. You lunged for it just before it could reach you and too quickly for it to grab you, plunging the knife into the walker’s eye. You pulled as the body fell, making the retrieval of the weapon a piece of cake. “Told you I had it.”

Daryl tried for a scowl but the twitch of his lips was evident even from a distance. So you grinned at him, prideful of what you had done. It probably wouldn’t have been a big deal to Carol or Michonne, but you were new to it all. You’d take a win where you could.

“You couldn’t drag it and neither could I.” You said in passing on your way back to the door. He grumbled something close to yeah, I could’a but you ignored him. The left shoulder of his shirt was saturated. You needed to sit him down and take a look. You weren’t very knowledgeable but you could at least put pressure on it until it clotted. Maybe? Did it work like that?

The little shack was clear of the dead now, the woman apparently living alone. You gave no thought to how she had died or how long she had been there. Inside was a simple set up. One room, a bed in one corner. Full size with some sort of furs as blankets. It was large enough for you both to sleep as you had before but given his change in demeanor, he was likely to want the floor.

There were iron kettles and pots stacked on a corner, along with an open med kit. Crossing to investigate, you glanced out to see Daryl crouched down and skinning the rabbit. The kit had a few bandaids, some Tylenol, and an opened square of gauze. Never knowing when you would need even the smallest of things, you removed the gauze and kept the rest, placing the small box on the bed.

A dresser sat in the other corner, two of the drawers broken and partly open. The woman had been just about your size. Maybe there was something you could use so parading around in front of Daryl with your ass out was no longer an issue.

“Bingo.” You smiled. The sweats were at least clean. They were a little baggy. Maybe she had looted them from somewhere else. It didn’t matter, really. A long sleeved flannel with most of the buttons missing was in the same drawer. There weren’t any other shirts, to your dismay. Pursing your lips, you decided to see how you could make it work.

The bustier had left red indents in your skin. You nearly moaned with relief while removing it. The flannel was actually missing all the buttons but you could work with it. You rolled up the bottom and tied the two ends together beneath your breasts. It was an odd crop top that made some of your lesser scars visible but nothing was hanging out, so winner winner chicken dinner. You grabbed the most comfortable looking of all the mismatched socks and walked toward the door.

You could smell the fire, your mouth watering at the thought of rabbit. No seasoning but beggars could not be choosers. First, however, you wanted to check the walker for shoes. The clothes somewhat fit so maybe shoes would too. “I’m gonna check to see if the—”

The socks fell to the porch, forgotten. Daryl’s forearm was red and blistered, the skin practically melted away from being too close to the fire. You grabbed his uninjured shoulder, thankful that was the side closest to the flames so you could simply roll him away. He had landed face down, unmoving when you spotted him.

Now lying on his back, you could clearly see his chest rising and falling. He was alive. “Daryl? Can you hear me?” Your hands cupped his face, the skin cool and clammy. That was good in one sense: no fever. It could, however, mean he’d lost too much blood. His shirt was sticky with it. You carefully peeled the fabric away from the wound, finding it open and still bleeding sluggishly. There were loose butterfly sutures with most of Hershel’s stitching popped or missing. “Idiot.” You sniffled.

Lifting his shoulder as high off the ground as you could manage, you let him come back to balance on your thigh and leaned to see the exit wound on his back. It was mostly fine, just one end where the skin was torn and puckered. You could work with that.

The medical kit inside was useless. You could only pray he had the sense to bring something with him. You dumped the contents of his bag in the ground, nearly sobbing at the sight of a kit from back home. You could at least pack the wound and dress it. Grabbing the small red bag and the canteen, you scurried back to his side. You’d have to fetch more water from somewhere after cooling the burn and cleaning his shoulder but you’d cross that bridge later.

At that moment, Daryl was priority one.

The first thing he heard was the cracking and popping of a fire, the smell of smoke and meat wafting into his nostrils. It simultaneously made his mouth water and his stomach turn. There was a groan, deep and drawn out. A walker? No. That was coming from him. Where the hell was he? His damn brain was foggy, clouded over from pain. Exhaustion threatened to pull him back under but the shuffle of leaves gave him just enough adrenaline to flinch away when someone touched his face.

“Easy. It’s just me.”

“Y/N.” He croaked, curling his lip at the sound of his voice. His mind began to fill in the blanks, memories sliding into place to form a timeline that ended where he was now, by the fire with right arm and left shoulder bandaged. The sky was a watercolor painting of purples and oranges, the sun long out of sight. “How long I been out?”

“Here.” You pressed the canteen to his lips and while he drank, he used his right hand to take over holding it. “A few hours.” He watched, head tilted, as you reached behind you to turn the rabbit on a spit. “I had to, uh—I had to leave you once to get water. I’m sorry.”

“Still here, ain’t I? Don’t gotta apologize.”

You took the canteen and replaced the lid. “I’m sorry that I covered you with leaves and put a dead walker on top of you.” You weren’t meeting his eyes. Shit. Had he been such an ass that you were afraid of him again? “I didn’t know what else to do. When you fell, you burned your arm. Between that and your shoulder, I used it all. I had—”

“I ain’t mad, Y/N. Jesus. Calm down.”

Your shoulders dropped. “If you’re not mad, then why are you acting different around me?”

“Let’s talk—let’s talk inside. After.” He gestured to the fire. “You’re gonna burn that.” He was glad he had at least finished prepping the rabbit before face-planting, made things a little easier for you while you were stuck watching over his dumb ass. You drew your bottom lip in between your teeth. You wanted to say something but swallowed it down with a tight-lipped smile and went back to the fire.

To be honest, he had pushed back the conversation because he wasn’t sure what he was going to say to you. He could blame his physical state, the blood loss and exhaustion. Then he’d be lying to you more than he already had. To tell you the truth would be to admit that he was no better than the men who had tortured you. Sure, there were feelings involved, something you appeared to have as little experience with as he did.

Nothing good could come from this. Maybe he needed to come clean just so you could understand why he needed to distance himself, if only until it all passed. Feelings were fleeting, nothing was forever.

“Here.” You were offering him a skewered portion of meat. “Try to eat. If we need more water, I know where to go.”

Daryl nodded his thanks and lifted the food to his mouth, stopping short to watch you seat yourself near the fire, drawing up your knees. The soft glow of firelight burned warm against your skin, flickering flames casting shadows that made the bruises and lacerations appear that much darker. You had cleaned yourself up while he was unconscious, changed into fresh clothes and shoes that had likely been inside the home. Even riddled with injuries and in oversized clothes, you were fucking beautiful.

Finally forcing himself to tear his eyes away from you, food was eaten in silence, the fire extinguished shortly afterwards to avoid drawing any unwanted attention. The hunter was impressed with how you were handling yourself with such minimal instruction from him.

“What?”

“Nothin’.” He cleared his throat, continuing as you went about gathering everything to move inside with only the moonlight guiding you. “Just—holdin’ your own out here. Don’t need me ‘round no more.” The statement was both fond and bitter, just another confirmation that he’d be doing the right thing by stepping away once you were safe.

You had stilled, but then carried on, leaving him for a heartbeat to deposit everything inside. Then you were crouching in front of him, reaching out, ready to help him inside. Your hand lifted at the last second, warm palm coming to rest gently against his cheek. He was leaning into the touch before he could stop himself, allowing that brief comfort even if it was entirely self-serving.

“I think I’ll always need you.” You smiled, gentle and sad, like you were reading his mind. “I’m okay with that.” Maybe you were, but he wasn’t.

His entire commitment to you from the beginning was to make you self reliant, let Carol help you figure out how to be a person again, and while training you hadn’t gone exactly how he’d planned,—he was never supposed to be involved—he was proud to say that you stood more of a chance now than when he had met you. He could step back and let Carol take over. Daryl never had a problem disappearing, he’d been doing it all his life. Hiding from his father, jumping from town to town with Merle. He could do it again. Even if it meant he’d have to leave the prison, the people he cared about, to keep you safe and give you a chance, he was willing.

You reached for him again and he swatted at your hands, using his right arm to balance while he got his feet beneath him. The burn ached beneath the bandage and Carol was likely to throttle him the moment they got back for how messed up his shoulder was, but it had been worth it. They would likely see the smoke from the factory, investigate from a distance, and return to the prison, either convinced that you and he were among the dead or they would keep a sharp eye out for your return.

He was ready to be back, if he was honest with himself. Take a few days to heal properly and then head out for a while on an extended hunt. Maybe he wouldn’t need to leave permanently. Maybe this would all fade as he hoped.

When he felt your hand between his shoulder blades and caught your eye, the myriad of emotions visible there even in the dim light reminded him that hope in that world was futile.

You indicated the weak points in the steps and followed him inside, closing the sad little door before shooing him away from the dresser.

“No way. You’re not pushing this with your bad shoulder. Go lie down.” When he remained there with a incredulous expression of you’re kiddin’, you squared your shoulders and looked every bit as scary as a wet kitten. “Go on, get.”

He exhaled a laugh through his nose and pressed his good hand to the top of the dresser only for it to be popped like a kid reaching for the cookies before supper. He found he was a cross between offended and impressed. “Listen, pipsqueak, I—”

“No, you listen, you stubborn mule.” Daryl’s mouth snapped shut, eyebrows shooting upward. Impressed, indeed. “You damn near killed yourself to get me out of there. I fixed it all up the best I could but I bet Hershel and Carol are gonna lock you in a cell regardless when we get back. So the more you rest, the less time you spend in solitary confinement, capiche?” You leaned your weight against the piece of furniture but stood up again with an angry pout. “And don’t call me pipsqueak!” He filed away that nickname for later. Would there be a later? No, he couldn’t think about that right now.

“Fine.” He huffed and let his hand fall away. He didn’t move just then though, quite frankly enjoying watching you struggle with the task on your own while he unlaced and removed his boots. You grumbled and cursed but finally succeeded, turning to him with a victorious, high-pitched hmmph. Daryl shook his head and turned toward the bed in the corner, a small half-smile gracing his features.

The mattress had two blackbear furs on it. No pillows but it was unlikely that you gave any more fucks about it than he did. Utilizing his good arm, he snatched the edge of one fur and dragged it off onto the floor, toeing at it to spread it out.

“Daryl?”

“Hmm?” When you didn’t say anything, he turned, finding you in the middle of the room, wringing your hands with one of the saddest expressions of trepidation he’d ever seen you wear. Fuck. He knew what was coming.

“Why are things different now?” You were staring at the bear skin as if it were still a living creature that was driving a wedge between the two of you. “Are you mad at me for leaving? I just wanted to protect you like you protect me. I couldn’t stand the thought of—”

“Told ya I ain’t mad.” Daryl interjected when the words just kept tumbling out. “Weren’t happy ‘bout it, but I get why ya did it.” I would’a done the same. The hunter kicked at the edge of the fur even though it was already laying flat. You sniffled and his head snapped up. “Nah, Y/N, don’t cry.”

“We slept in the same bed before. Why can’t we now?”

He inwardly groaned. Why was this a big deal? Did you just need comfort? Stupid. Of course you did. You’d been through the wringer. He was so emotionally ignorant. Selfish. “Ain’t a big deal. I’ll sleep on the bed.” He bent to retrieve the fur.

“Why don’t you want to? Are you—I know you know what they did to me. I’m—disgusting.”

Oh, fuck no. “Don’t say that. Ain’t your fault what they did.” He was crossing the distance before he realized his feet were moving, stumbling to a halt in front of you, just barely restraining from dragging you into him. “Things are—just diff’rent.” Your big eyes were shining, wet and full of questions.

“Different how then?” You reached for him. He wanted to retreat but he couldn’t seem to get his legs to cooperate. “How can I fix it?”

His face twisted into a grimace, turning away from you and then back in the same movement. “Ya can’t cause ya didn’t do nothin’ wrong.” You were hugging him around his torso before he could stop you, your warmth seeping through his shirt for his chilled skin to soak up. “Y/N, I can’t.”

“You can’t what?” Goddamnit. Why was this so hard?

“Ain’t it obvious? I need to let ya go.” And his damn voice cracked. He still hadn’t made a move to hold you. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to do what needed to be done. He felt you shift, now looking up at him again with your arms still firmly wrapped around his sides. And though he scrambled to grasp a single sliver, the anguish in your gaze shattered the last of his resolve.

The back of his knuckles stroked your cheek before he hooked a finger beneath your chin to hold you as you were.

“Daryl?”

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the effort. “Wanna—can I kiss ya?” Your face crumbled, the tears you had been controlling finally wetting your cheeks. His hand fell away. “M’sorry. That was stupid. Don’t know what I was thinkin’.” He tried to step back and give you space but your hold kept him immobile, your head shaking back and forth.

“It isn’t that. It’s just—” Your breaths were shallow spasms, chin wobbling. “No one’s ever asked me before.”

His heart didn’t just ache, it broke. The idea of doing anything you hadn’t consented to was nauseating. For all the hell he’d been through and cruelty he’d seen, he still couldn’t fathom hurting someone like you purposefully. No one had asked before kissing you? Did you mean before the turn? God, the urge to just hold you was dizzying, to protect you without ever letting you leave his arms.

You worked hard to get yourself under control, straightening to look at him as steadily as you probably could manage. “Ask me again. Please.”

His heart was hammering. He knew you could hear it. Tongue sliding across his bottom lip, he leaned down until your noses were almost touching. “Can I kiss ya?”

“Yes.” Your eyes flitted to his lips and back to his eyes.

This was what he wanted but now he couldn’t seem to remember how. Still, he’d rather it be a clumsy disaster than leave you questioning. He leaned in closer, parting his lips slightly to make his intentions clear even though you had consented. His lips pressed into yours, mirroring the way you opened in invitation. There was a tentative sweep of his tongue, grazing your own. You relaxed with a contented sigh that traveled down his throat, rattled his spine, and cradled his heart. He wasn’t just taking what you were willingly giving, he was learning.

You wanted this.

He had never been so wrong but he wasn’t exactly built for picking up any cues you had given him, intentionally or not. He felt himself begin to tremble, suddenly void of any semblance of confidence.

When your fingertips brushed over the nape of his neck, pressing gently to pull him closer and deepen the kiss, he shivered involuntarily. It was a slow dance of pent up emotion, gradually charging the air around where the pair of you stood. His own hand lifted to the side of your neck where his thumb brushed back and forth over your jaw. It was only when his lungs began to burn that he pulled away, his forehead resting against yours while you both panted.

“Is this what you want too?” You shrank into yourself timidly and awaited his answer. He chuckled breathily and ignored the pain so his other hand could cradle your face as well, using both of his thumbs to sweep away your tears that still fell uninhibitedly.

“Yeah, pipsqueak. S’what I want.”

“Don’t call me pipsqueak.” Your tone was breathless, eyes hooded, your arms winding around his neck.

He kissed you again. Hands moving to your waist and then around to your back, bending you slightly to curve over you. Your hands slid to his chest and curled into his shirt as best they could while being wedged between your bodies. The second kiss was no less gentle but held no reluctance. He’d laid all the cards on the table, against his better judgment, never expecting to be rewarded.

The fear of hurting you in some way was still very much present, a lingering warning in the back of his mind that he chose to ignore in favor of licking into your mouth, stealing another taste. And then another. And another. You were intoxicating, one indulgence would never be enough.

There were no objections from you when he maneuvered your bodies to turn, never parting during the journey to the bed. He didn’t allow the back of your knees to meet the mattress, but instead used the hold he maintained around your middle to lift you up and lay you back. He was leaning over you, mouths still moving together only to part for you to crawl backward and further onto the soft surface.

There was the smallest flicker of panic that he had taken it too far, that you were trying to escape, but then you were reaching for him. Your fingers pressed gently into his ribs as soon as he was within reach and allowed you to guide him over you, opening your legs to allow room for him. Daryl hesitated, noticing the fine tremors in your hands.

He leaned in for a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth and then sat back on his knees to grant you a bit of space. “Ain’t gotta do anythin’ ya ain’t ready for.” His pants were already tight, the strain on his groin nearing an unbearable yet delicious pressure that might have been just enough to both give him relief and cause him embarrassment.

He was far past the point of no return, prepared to give you everything or nothing at all. Whatever you needed or didn’t. His hand was resting just above your hip, thumb brushing back and forth in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

“Just tell me what ya need.”

You were scared to the point of panic, waiting for the inevitable pain that would accompany his baser instincts to take what he wanted. But this was Daryl. Training aside, he’d only ever shown you gentle touches that were fleeting and reluctant, to just as much appease his own anxiety as well as yours.

The reasonable part of you knew he’d never intentionally hurt you. The part of you that had been traumatized so purposefully had been conditioned to submit and bear the burden of agony to ensure he was satisfied. It was almost enough to send you spiraling into that dark place where you could hide. Maybe it already was. Your chest felt tight, breathing was becoming difficult. You felt like you would shake into pieces, each fragment bearing witness to the disappointment he’d certainly let show.

“Hey.” His raspy voice was just as gentle as the whisper of his fingertips that were now caressing your jaw. “Ain’t gonna hurt ya. Nothin’s gotta happen. We can just lay here.”

You swallowed hard enough to hurt. “But you want this.”

A deep red began to rise on his cheeks, spreading down his chest and up to his ears. “Yeah, I do. Don’t mean m’gonna take it from ya.” His voice was strained, uncertainty working its way in even as he tried to maintain control. His tender touches carried on, fingers carving a soft path down your neck and over your collarbone but skipping your breasts entirely. Then he was rubbing his palm up and down your bare side, below where you had secured the flannel. His skin was still chilled from blood loss. “Can I—will ya let me try somethin’?”

What could he possibly want to try? The act itself was simple for him: undress you, enter you, chase his pleasure. He’d be gentle, you knew that, even if you needed to constantly remind yourself. You found that even suffocating under the weight of your fear, you ached to feel him inside of you, wanted to make him feel good. He deserved to feel good. So if there was something he wanted to try, you’d allow it. Chewing on your bottom lip, you nodded.

He returned the gesture and slid his palm over your abdomen, bringing it to rest on the front of your sweatpants. “Just say the word an’ I’ll stop.” The need to fight back the dampness in your eyes presented itself once more. Your exhale shook but you nodded again.

Bringing his injured arm into the movement, he dipped his fingers below the elastic waistband and paused, glancing at you for what you assumed was an opportunity to stop him. You said nothing, curiosity intertwined with apprehension while you watched him.

Daryl was slow to drag the article of clothing down your legs, taking the time to delicately pull each foot from the ribbed cuffs before dropping them to the floor just beside the bed. Easy to grab in case you changed your mind maybe? The cool air against your skin—your scars—was more than a little jarring but you forced yourself to keep still.

He was careful when he finally touched you, just above your right knee where a faint, raised imperfection resided. The permanent reminder of James, a regular client with a malicious enjoyment of knife play. There was no pity in the way he looked at your skin, just a reverent understanding. You had seen his scars. He was comprehensive of the callousness that one human could show another.

Now that he was touching you so intimately while you were spread open before him, you remembered that neither of you had anything to make penetration any less uncomfortable. You were used to it, you supposed. Some men just used your blood and some used lubricant provided by the club. Others just drove in dry. There was also the lack of condoms, dental dams.

Daryl’s other hand came to rest on the inside of the opposite thigh, his rough palms kneading the flesh of each, while he looked back and forth between them. Ever so slowly, he slid his hands below to rest centimeters away from where your ass curved into your leg. He simply left them there and bowed over you, pressing his mouth just above the waistband of your panties.

You gasped. His lips were chapped but soft and warm, in direct contrast to the coolness gripping the backs of your thighs. Regardless, it wasn’t the feeling of his touches that surprised you, it was the result of those touches.

There was a rush of heat at your center that seemed to whittle its way back and forth to your stomach, the muscles of your abdomen twitching against Daryl’s mouth. Your clit was beginning to pulse. You were no stranger to arousal, or so you had thought. Maybe that was another part of you that had been chipped away because nothing that you could remember felt like this.

“This okay?”

With a sharp inhale, you looked at him, only then realizing your breathing had picked up. Daryl was completely still, waiting with a patience you had only seen a few times since you’d known him.

“Y-yeah.”

Eyes on you, he lowered his head and pressed an open mouthed kiss to a scar parallel to your navel, his fingers squeezing the soft flesh of your thighs. Looking at him, watching him watch you felt too intimate. The back of your head pressed into the pillow, your own hands coming to rest on either side of your head.

Daryl was already doing more for you than any man while you were at the club. What he seemed to be doing was comforting you, showing reposeful attention to each mar littered across your skin. Once he had completed that particular endeavor, he switched to doing the same to the smooth areas in between.

You bit back a whine when he relinquished his hold on your thighs and slid his hands to your hips, slipping a finger beneath each strip of fabric across your hips. Before he could ask permission, you shot upright, forcing him back.

“Wait!”

“Yeah, okay!” His hands came up next to his head, palms out. “M’sorry, was gonna ask.”

“No, I know. It’s not—it’s just—” you had started shaking your head as you sat up and hugged yourself tightly, a whimper escaping unchecked. “Todd, he would cut me if I didn’t behave or didn’t perform. He was so angry over his brother but Jazz wouldn’t—he wouldn’t let Todd kill me. So, he cut me instead.”

Daryl muttered a quiet Jesus and raked his fingers through his hair. You knew he was working it out, flaming fury burning in his blue eyes when it all clicked.

“I’m sorry.” You ducked your head away from his anger. Nothing was directed toward you, but the actual heaviness of his rage was frightening.

“Nah, ya don’t say sorry for that. Ever. Ya hear me?” His left hand was squeezing the bandage-covered burn on his right forearm, using pain to ground himself. You knew the method well. “Wanna bring his ass back so I can kill ‘im again. Slower.”

You weren’t sure there was anything you could say. It was done, the moment was over. You gave him a nod and began to draw up your knees but his hands were quick to stop you. With a quizzical stare, you said his name.

“Got scars too. Sure ya saw ‘em when ya patched up my shoulder.” His hands remained on your partially bent knees, grip firm but trembling. Maybe it was a terrible time, probably the worst, but you felt compelled to be truthful.

“I saw—I, uh, saw them before that, Daryl.”

“Shower. I know.”

Saucer-sized eyes snapped over to him, your body going rigid, cheeks burning with shame. “You—knew?” Daryl hummed an affirmation. “Do you wanna talk about them? Your scars.”

He shook his head slowly, no. “Not yet. This ain’t ‘bout me.” The archer sat back on his heels. “Just, ya know, wanted ya to know that I get it. We got scars. Seein’ ‘em ain’t gonna change anythin’.” Maybe bringing up what else you had seen that night wasn’t such a great idea. “Ya good?” You gave a quick nod. “Get some sleep. I’ll keep watch.” Not where you thought things were headed. You weren’t ready to stop just yet. Shaken, but not beaten.

You moved quickly, pulling your legs beneath you to rise up on your knees where he still sat on his. Your hands bracketed his neck and your mouth was slotted over his, relieved he didn’t freeze. Quite the opposite, he pulled you flush against him with an arm around your waist and the opposite hand on the back of your head. Your chest was heaving when you angled your chin to pull away your mouth, leaving your face close, your nose nuzzling his. His eyes were still closed.

“Please don’t stop.” If he wanted to—really wanted to— end things there, you wouldn’t try to persuade him otherwise. You held onto hope that the hard bulge pressed against your stomach meant you wouldn’t even need to try. When his eyes opened, the blue that was always giving a glimpse of the kindness he tried to hide was a mere thin line around lust-blown pupils.

Maybe he wouldn’t notice your deep, steadying breath but even if he did, he was possibly just too enamored with watching you lie back, your nimble fingers untying the front of the flannel. With one last glance at Daryl, unmoving and patient with his hands balled into fists on his thighs, you spread open the shirt. More scars adorned your breasts, but while Jazz’s clients would curl their lips and scoff, the archer's eyes raked over your flesh with what you could only be described as unabashed wonder and appreciation.

Clinging dramatically to your sudden burst of bravery, you straightened your legs on either side of his hips and hooked your fingers into the straps of the thong to drag the fabric down, keeping your thighs pressed as tightly together as you could manage while lifting one leg and then the other. The white material hung from your left ankle, your knees bent and closed just above where Daryl remained sitting on his own.

“Y/N.”

“Please don’t try to talk me out of this.” Hands resting on your thighs, you dug in your nails, the slight burn providing an anchor against your fear. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to maintain composure, but that didn’t matter. Whether that night or a year into the future, you would need to battle these demons. “I just want to feel something—real.”

His eyes flashed up to yours, an understanding there that needn’t be spoken. Your wounds and his had been inflicted so differently but your scars were the same; a map of your lifetime, of bravery and endurance among such suffering.

“Alright.” He rasped after another moment of silence. His hands lifted from his lap to hover just above your knees. There was a twitch in his clenched jaw, a spasm of pain from his shoulder but nothing more. The pressure he applied to urge your legs flat was barely there, a slight encouragement that lacked any demand. It was awkward but you somehow succeeded in keeping your thighs together.

Daryl’s fingertips began easing into the space just above your knees to urge your legs to part, not making it far before he stopped. His jaw worked back and forth, teeth gnawing on the inside of his bottom lip. While you wanted to spread yourself open, you couldn’t seem to find the nerve.

Not until his next move.

His gaze remained on your thighs while he worked slowly to pop open the buttons of his shirt, one by one. There was a shadow of a moment where you considered stopping him; telling him it wasn’t necessary. He seemed to think it was. Quid pro quo, maybe; ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.’

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel more at ease.

The archer shrugged the shirt from his right shoulder, then gingerly slid it off the left. You avoided staring after the initial glance. It wouldn’t do to make him feel more exposed than he was. You couldn’t, however, erase the image of his naked torso. His skin was dirty, caked with dried blood from the wound, but he was beautiful, ruggedly handsome with tanned skin pulled over whipcord lean muscle. You had always found jealousy in the ogling stares of the prison women but you understood. To be the one he was sharing this much of himself with was dizzying.

He didn’t make a move for his belt, crawling toward you instead, the press of his knee where your legs were sealed together was gentle in its attempt at prying you open. You parted them, a little more confident without him staring down at your mutilated flesh.

Daryl held his weight above you on his right arm with the slightest tremble of exertion. He must have seen you glance over, worry etched in your eyes, because then he was shaking his head with a quiet s’fine.

You tried to recall when you had lost your virginity, but couldn't seem to pull up a face or name or even a clear memory, but you wondered if it’d been something like that. Two hesitant individuals with the knowledge of the other’s desire for them but completely clueless when it came to implementing that into some sort of action. Like horny, inexperienced teenagers. You would have chuckled if the dark reality of justification wasn’t hovering over your bodies like a dense, suffocating fog.

You flinched minutely when Daryl dipped his head, hot breath wafting over your exposed nipple. He made no further attempt, looking up at you from beneath his lashes, seeking consent and it made your eyes sting. Your fingertips grazed over a scar on his temple with the slightest curiosity of where it came from, but dismissed it in order to splay open your fingers against the back of his head and pull him toward your chest.

You gasped at the first flick of his tongue, the touch so foreign that your body didn’t seem to understand how to react. Gooseflesh prickled across your chest and down your arms, your other hand jolting upward to join the first, unintentionally holding Daryl in place, silently pleading for an encore.

He didn’t disappoint. Shifting over, he briefly pressed his lips to your sternum before his tongue circled your other nipple, drawing the pebbled nub into his mouth. The slow, tenderly executed motions had your lower belly burning with a feeling your traitorous body had experienced while a stranger fucked into you despite your unwillingness.

The archer didn’t remain where he was for long, moving to drag his tongue down your torso and dip it into your navel. There was a full bodied shiver, your legs instinctively spreading wider. You didn’t even realize it until his open mouth was against the skin just above the tuft of hair at the apex of your thighs.

You felt the familiar stirring of panic and you tilted your chin toward your chest to look at him, finding him staring right back. His lips remained stagnant against that spot, his dark gaze searching your face for permission. It took two deep, calming breaths, both worryingly difficult to achieve before you nodded. His mouth was against the beginning of the scars that he would soon find on the ruins of your cunt. But then he did something unexpected.

He closed his eyes.

At first you thought he was avoiding a disgust that would dampen his desire for you. Then he was touching you, mapping out each jagged line with the tips of his fingers, neglecting not a single one.

He was allowing you to acclimate to the new experience.

You couldn’t remember ever being touched so tenderly, or a man ever willingly exploring your most sensitive area beyond driving their dick into your dry entrance. Daryl had yet to even delve between your folds, his attention solely on conveying acceptance of your imperfections. The fear of rejection and anticipation gave way in a rush of wetness you hadn’t realized your body was capable of, a physical indication that you appreciated what he was doing.

Your hands were still loose on the back of his head, making it possible to speak your consent and insistence without words. Your nails scraped lightly over his scalp for your fingers to tangle in his hair, urging him onward and asking him to open his eyes and see you. Despite his valiant actions to bring you comfort, you needed to witness his reaction.

He was slow to peel open those pretty eyes, still dark with desire. You laughed around tears when there was the flash of arousal in the pools of blue. He was seeing the whole of you and not just the desolate ruins. He was appreciating what you were offering him. There wasn’t a single scrap of hesitation or disinterest. His tongue was parting your folds to taste you, but then his eyes widened and he reeled back just enough to put a couple of inches between your hot, slick slit and his mouth.

“M’sorry.” He was apologizing for his naked desire that had propelled him to touch you without seeking permission. But you weren’t even remotely upset, hadn’t even considered anything beyond the scorching trail his tongue had left in its wake. You could do nothing but whimper and card your fingers through his hair, canting your hips upward in silent pleading for him to continue.

And continue he did.

Daryl dove in like a man starved and you were the finest meal he’d ever had, his tongue lapping at you while his large hands pressed against your inner thighs to spread you wider. He had only just begun and there was pleasure like you had never before felt, that you didn’t even know was possible.

When he gave a satisfied hum against you and latched his mouth over your clit, the wanton noise that left you was positively pornographic. Your hips jerked and your grip on his hair tightened. No wonder the clientele had never made this a priority. What would they get from this beyond perhaps the enjoyment of the mewls and breathy moans that you couldn’t seem to stifle? None of them wanted that.

But Daryl was drinking it up, his tongue working your sensitive bud harder and faster with each sound you offered him.

When you felt the tip of his index finger circle your opening, there was a jolt of fear; an anticipation of pain but he wasn’t moving. Once again he waited patiently for your approval, but all the while, his tongue continued its assault. Your mind warred with the desire to be filled by him in any and every way and the terrifying inevitability of the pain you had been led to believe was the norm.

In the end, your undeniable hunger for him prevailed. “Please.” You panted, grinding your hips against his face. The feel of stretching around his thick digit wasn’t anything like you were accustomed to, the gentlest of burning, molding until he was fully inside. Your inner walls fluttered around the intrusion with a stuttering of your hips. It felt so good that you began to question if it was really happening at all.

When Daryl moved his finger, pulling it back to drag over your insides, you watched his eyes roll with a deep groan against your clit. There was a tightening within your belly that held a promise of something delicious but Daryl seemed to be enjoying what he was doing just as much—if not more— than you were.

He kept the action slow and deliberate, allowing you to adjust not only physically but mentally as well. You had been denied pleasure, something you were sure he deduced from your tears over his request to kiss you. It wasn’t until you moaned his name and rolled your hips against his hand that he doubled down in his efforts to bring you to your high.

He worked at your clit with wanton abandon, sucking and licking and grazing his teeth over the swollen, stiff bundle of nerves, all the while pumping his finger in and out of you with a gentle, deep push and pull that directly contradicted his vigorous onslaught with his mouth.

God, you had never felt so good.

“Daryl.” You whined, writhing and tugging on his hair. He chuckled against your slick cunt. Goddamn him, he actually chuckled. “I don’t—it feels—hhhnnngg—”

“Easy, pipsqueak.”

“Don’t call me th—oh.” He had slowed down, languidly brushing his nose over your clit while thrusting his finger deep and curling it against a spot inside you that made your toes curl. You couldn’t remember the last time you came or if you had at all. Daryl pulled almost all the way out of you before pressing his middle finger against your drenched hole, requesting to join the other but not advancing it further.

God, you appreciated his need for consent but at the same time you wanted to shake him and demand he keep going.

Instead of responding verbally, you angled your hips and pushed down against him, taking both fingers inside you, your velvety walls pulling at his digits to suck them in deeper. You weren’t cognizant of anything anymore, only the rush of urgent need to feel that knot in your belly twist tighter.

“Fuck.” Daryl whispered before circling his tongue around where his fingers disappeared inside of you. When he began thrusting into you after your desperate whining, it was still at an agonizingly slow pace. You understood why he was being so gentle.

Because no one ever had.

And, though your body begged for the alternative, you needed to feel it that way, feel valued and cherished and worth pleasing.

Daryl made you feel that. He ignored his own needs. You had definitely noticed the way he continued to shift his hips, holding himself carefully away from the mattress. Was he truly that aroused by pleasuring you?

The train of thought derailed when he sucked hard on your clit, flicking the end of his tongue over it while it was drawn from beneath the thin hood of flesh by the suction of his mouth. His left hand shot up to your hip with a pained grunt to keep you immobile for the moment, your whines and whimpers morphing into shouts and moans. Daryl released the small bud and pressed his tongue against it, and when you looked down, you found his gaze on you with an intensity that drew that coiled knot inside you even tighter, threatening to snap it loose.

“Please, Daryl—I don’t—I need—”

“S’okay, pip. Just let go.” His tongue pressed against you again, a firm stimulation that when combined with the twist and curl of his fingers inside you brought a sudden heat from deep in your lower abdomen. It engulfed you, centering on the now vehement circling of Daryl’s tongue on your clit. Your body vibrated, your hips rolling now that he had removed his hand in favor of keeping one shaking thigh pressed down while the other sought it out to squeeze and hold him in place.

You were mumbling, then shouting, random words in incoherent sentences. His name and a plea and a call to a god you didn’t believe in, desperate and overwhelmed. You had never felt pleasure like this, never been allowed to drown in an ecstasy that another person could draw from you.

You had definitely never orgasmed before; regardless of your trauma, that feeling would be something you would surely remember.

You were clueless as to how long you were under the spell of complete and total bliss, falling limp with your bare chest heaving. You didn’t even feel the tears until Daryl was hovering over you, his thumb catching the moisture before it could run across your temple.

“Y’alright?” You hummed, still weightless and floating in the space between reality and wherever it was the archer had sent you. He smirked, his hand still against your neck with his thumb sweeping back and forth over your cheekbone. “Think ya need to sleep some now.” Just like that, you were completely lucid, sitting up to pull him into a feverish kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, a profound sense of intimacy but you felt another pulse run through your cunt, centering at your clit.

“Please.” You whispered against his mouth, feeling how his breath trembled. As you met his eyes, they were rising away from your lips and looking back at you. He studied you, seemed to be peering into your very soul. He urged you back down when next his mouth slotted over yours. Your hands slid from his shoulders and down to his hips, pulling and guiding him until he was nestled between your thighs. He still wore his pants but his erection was undeniable and likely painful by that point. He wanted you and not in the same way all the men before him did. Daryl wanted you as more than just a hole to be fucked. He wanted you and all your splintered parts and defects. He wanted you but was willing to wait to have you. It only made your desire for him increase tenfold.

“You’re sure ya want this?”

“Yes.” You replied without thought or hesitation. “I want this and I want it with you.” Deft fingers were already sliding from his hips to his belt buckle, working it open while he peppered sloppy kisses over your neck and shoulder.

“Won’t last long.” He mumbled against your collarbone. There was a sadness to his tone. Did he really think he could disappoint you?

“You just made me feel so good, Daryl, and you did it without hurting me. You made me feel—” Loved. The word never made it off your tongue, but you shifted his focus with a nibble against his throat. “I’ll take whatever you’ll give me.” Button open and zipper down, you caressed your way around him and pushed the denim, along with his boxer briefs, down over his ass. Kneading your fingers across each buttock, the muscles twitching. With the combined use of your hands and feet, you managed to get his pants down to his ankles, leaving him to kick them off.

You didn’t look, but you could feel. His cock slid back and forth in your nectar with his hips lazily rocking, his mouth on your breasts. You couldn’t suppress the whine that climbed up to press against your teeth. You needed him inside you. It was never like this before. You were terrified of any man being near you in such a way, but there was little more than residual fear there. Nothing of Dary’s doing. You struggled to slide your hand between your bodies but the archer caught your wrist and brought it toward his mouth to kiss your palm before he guided you to rest it beside your head. He did the same with the other hand.

Sex like this was different to say the least. He wasn’t rushing to penetrate you, or rutting into you like you were a bitch in heat. Even with the heated weight of him nestled against your labia, he didn’t go into a frenzy. It went against everything you had been taught was normal. But that was just Daryl, wasn’t it?

Always showing you that the truth had never fit into Jazz’s narrative.

“Hey.” The archer brushed his nose against yours. “Thinkin’ so loud, you’re makin’ my head hurt.” When you had taken too long to articulate a response, his lips descended onto yours once again, moving with such care while you followed his lead. His tongue swept into your mouth, tangling with yours. If you weren’t careful, you’d get drunk on the taste of him. Maybe it was too late and you already were.

He balanced on his right forearm to ease his hand to your breast, cupping and weighing it, rolling your hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger with a firm squeeze. You arched into him as far as you could beneath his weight, mewling his name with a whisper of more, please into his mouth. You wanted so badly to touch him, to spur him onward. Each time you lifted a hand, he was catching it and lowering it back down.

By the time he decided to reach down, line himself up, you were a panting, squirming mess, caught somewhere between anxious anticipation and lingering doubt. A whimper shook just behind your lips as his tip nudged your slick entrance. He was hesitating, staring at what he could see of you and himself from where he balanced atop you.

“It’s okay.” You soothed, hand trembling while he allowed the comfort of your fingers gliding through his hair. “I want this.”

“Don’t, uh—” he began, his throat working to swallow around the words that were trapped there. “Don’t want ya to do anythin’ ya might regret.”

“Who in their right mind could ever regret the chance to be with you?”

The look he fixed on you was nearly devastating, wide, shining eyes that were radiating disbelief. Carol and the others had worked so hard to help you realize your worth. You wondered, dimly, why they hadn’t spent as much time convincing him of his own. There was sudden disappointment that you didn’t know him from before, that the two of you didn’t find one another before things went to shit. You would have gladly spent every single minute of every single day showing him how amazing he was.

Daryl had dropped his head, any view of his face hidden behind his fringe. Was there anything you could do for him? You wanted this—needed it, craved it—but that all consuming desire was easily pushed aside and replaced with the want to show him gentleness. You’d pull him down to rest with his head over your heart. Maybe you could even find the words to explain why he’d hear it galloping behind your ribs, how it was more than a baser need, how it wasn’t sexual in the least. It was simply the effect of having him that close to you, offering you a part of him that none of the women at the prison had ever even been considered to receive.

You gasped, nails biting into his bicep as he began to breach you. It burned, and with that sensation came the shock of knowing that a stranger had been fucking you only hours before, but this was still pushing your body to its limit to accept Daryl. He stopped once the tip rested inside, for both your benefit as well as his own. He was already twitching, possibly not physically able to go further without spilling inside of you. Would he? You could almost feel the cum leaking around him to spill out of your cunt, wanted to experience how it would make your body soar. However, there were very valid concerns that would make that unlikely.

“Y’okay?” His voice was strained, gravelly, and unfortunately for Daryl, your body reacted by involuntary squeezing him. He keened, a low noise in the back of his throat. In lieu of a reply, you dragged up your legs and pressed your heels against the curve of his ass, pushing him deeper. His head fell onto your shoulder with a grunt. “Goddamn—”

Your cunt wrapped around him in a perfect mold, so tightly that you could feel the vein that ran underneath his cock. Gasping and moaning, you let your knees fall outward and pushed against him with your heels until he was fully sheathed within your warm, fluttering walls. And then you were lost in him. The first thrust was more a roll of his hips, driving so deeply inside of you that you could feel him nudging your limit yet still carving his way further. It was amazing to immerse yourself in the chasm between pain and pleasure, without a sense of foreboding weighing heavily to suffocate you. Daryl was your safe place, and now that you couldn’t seem to tell where you ended and he began, you could draw upon that ardor and submit to him completely.

Submission was something you knew well, but this was different. It was a conscious choice made out of desire and not fear. You were ready to willingly drown in him and let him decide when to pull you up for air. Another roll of his hips saw you breathing his name, your hands roaming over the broad expanse of his back, over the raised and uneven skin. The archer growled next to your ear, sucking on the lobe before progressing with intentionally wet kisses and nibbles over your jaw before claiming your lips.

He was so gentle in his movements, allowing both of you what you needed while still reminding you that sex could be enjoyable. No one had ever made love to you that you could remember. Maybe before the end of the world, but that no longer mattered. The memories could stay buried for all you cared. You wanted this, there in that moment. With Daryl.

“Need ya to tell me you’re okay.” He murmured with his lips brushing over yours. His sporadic presses into your body became a rhythm, continuous and deep, but just as slow and steady. The heat in your belly was already simmering just from the drag of him inside of you, feeling him twitch and swell.

“I’m okay, yeah. I’m okay.” You managed, encouraging him to bare his neck to you with a gentle nudge of your cheek against his jaw. His moan cut off, hips stuttering when you bit down on skin over his pulse. There was the slight taste of copper on your tongue. He groaned and grabbed at your hands, one at a time, to push them back down on either side of your head, lacing his fingers through yours. His grip tightened with every languid thrust, only to loosen when he pulled back his hips. His face was buried against your shoulder again, choking off moans and failing in the attempts to hold back the whimpers, he was throwing gasoline onto the fire inside of you. “I’m—I think I’m—” Your chest arched and pressed against him, his left hand releasing yours to move down and cradle your lower back, angling your hips to allow him to carve his way impossibly deeper. You could feel him moving in your lower belly, each push back into you prodding a spot that had your toes curling.

You began to orgasm before you could even warn him, so lost in the colors and shapes of a different reality while your cunt clenched around him so forcefully that he grunted your name and squeezed your hand. You knew you were shouting but could do nothing to stop it. It just felt so sublime, so right. Dary was still at your ear, panting and grunting through clenched teeth. He was hanging on by a thread.

“Y/N, m’gonna—fuck, m’gonna cum.”

He slipped out of you so suddenly that you whined, twisting your other hand free to encircle both arms beneath his, holding him close and steady as he spilled onto your throbbing pussy. His chest was heaving, the frequent puffs of air so warm against your skin. His muscles were taut beneath your palms, rippling while he rode out his high with lazy thrusts, his cock brushing against your groin. Then he was still, collapsing on top of you but cognizant enough to shift his weight so as to not crush you.

The room was quiet then, save for the heavy breaths. It was damn near eerie but entirely forgotten when the archer pushed himself up on his elbows, his eyes tired and glazed over.

“Did I hurtcha?” It was almost a whisper, as if he was trying to avoid someone overhearing and catching you both naked and sweating.

“No.” You smiled and pulled him back against your shoulder. “Not at all.” It took several more minutes before your own breaths had slowed to an even cadence. Daryl had all but melted into you, sated and sleepy and vulnerable. It felt like an honor to hold him in such a way, coaxing out the stress and despair so that his muscles relaxed and he felt safe enough to close his eyes. One hand rubbed across his back, pausing with each twitch or sharp inhale. Your other hand was busy cradling the back of his head and combing your fingers through his hair.

“Daryl?”

“Hmm?’’ When you angled your head to look down at him, you found yourself smiling. His eyes were losing the battle to stave off the call of sleep.

“Thank you.”

But he was already out, the exhaustion from the last few days pulling him under with relative ease. As you held him close, you felt your own eyes grow heavy. One of you should really have stayed awake and kept watch, but sleep was relentlessly dragging you down.

With one last kiss into Daryl’s hair, you closed your eyes, feeling the tears sting but you were too tired to fight them off.

“Thank you.”

149 notes · View notes

suzukara · 6 months

Note

Hello hope you are doing well ☺️. If you do headcanon's can you please do one with short genshin men with tall s/o (170-173). From a tall bean 🫠

Short genshin men with a tall s/o

pairings: albedo, cyno, kazuha, scaramouche, tighnari, venti, xiao x gn! reader

warnings: none (tell me if there are any!)

a/n: hey guys guess who's back‼️ i had to take a longg long break since everything that happened sorry!! also finally doing this old old request, it's a bit short, but can you tell who's my favourite? (arranged in alphabetical order)

Albedo

unbothered.

probably does not mind and does not care that you're taller

he would probably make you help him get things that are too high for him to reach even with his elevator

if you like hugging people from behind he'll probably like the feeling of your chest against his back

would secretly enjoy the fact that you're taller

overall 9.5/10 experience!

Cyno

unbothered x2

actually scratch that, his ego would probably be a bit hurt by the fact that your taller.

other than that though, he doesn't care.

as long as you'll still play genius invokation tcg and cuddle with him, he does not care about your height.

oh but if anyone dares to make fun of your height, you wouldn't want to know what happened to them...

overall 9.3/10 experience!

Kazuha

loves your height so much.

he loves resting his head on your shoulders when he feels sleepy!

definitely also loves your taller height when cuddling in the bed!

if you're the little spoon, he'll hug you from behind and nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck

if you're the big spoon, he'd love the feeling of your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, bonus if you rest your head on top of his!

overall 10/10 experience!!

Scaramouche

no questions asked, his ego would be so hurt.

how dare you have good genes and grow taller then him?!

okay, jokes aside

he would say that he hates your height but definately loves it deep inside

he would never admit it though! he'll bring it with him to his grave...

would try to be the big spoon in bed but always ends up being the little spoon.

makes you bend down to kiss him since he's not going to tip toes just to kiss you

overall 9.8/10 experience!!!

Tighnari

unbothered x3

nobody dares to make fun of your height when he can hear them, literally

would say that he is the same height as you by making his ears stand taller then usual

probably nudged your cheek (face cheeks) with the tip of his ears when he thinks that you're not listening to him once

at the end of the day, he doesn't care

overall 9.5/10 experience!

Venti

I feel like he would climb on you like a tree

probably clings onto you like a koala

it gets worst when he's drunk.

would throw his legs all over your body when he sleeps

doesn't care what people say about your height since he, personally, loves it

you could reach for the higher wine bottles for him, how could he complain?

overall 9/10 experience!

Xiao

might be a bit embarrassed that you're taller

I don't know why I get the vibes

would probably go red if you bear-hugged him

he doesn't know what to feel

he doesn't sleep so it isn't often that he cuddles with you

but that doesn't mean you guys won't cuddle!!

definitely small spoon he needs comfort.

overall 9.7/10 experience!!

#suzukara 🍀🌸#genshin impact #genshin #kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #venti x reader #cyno x reader #albedo x reader #tighnari x reader #xiao x reader #wanderer x reader

333 notes · View notes

tsukasalvr · 6 months

Note

Hi I would like to make a request! (idk if this is where you submit it im new to tumbler lol)

I was wondering if you could do demon slayer headcannons about what nicknames the hashira would give their children! (ex. munchkin, sweetheart, hun)

I was thinking Sanemi, Kyojuro, Uzui, Mitsuri and Shinobu if you're ok with that.

Thanks <3

AN: THIS IS SO CUTE MY HEART AHH

nicknames they would give their kids

𝗔𝗻𝗶𝗺𝗲/𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺: 𝗗𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗻 𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗲𝗿

Characters: Sanemi Shinazugawa, Kyojuro Rengoku, Uzui Tengen, Mitsuri Kanroji, Shinobu Kocho

Warnings: I don’t proofread, veryyy short

A/n:I hate the picture limit

Demon Slayer masterlist | Main masterlist

Sanemi Shinazugawa

First of all, he would’ve never thought that he would have ever settle down with someone and have kids but he’s happy that he did

If it’s a boy called them little man and if it’s a girl calls her little woman just to tease them

“It’s not my fault I couldn’t just say no this little woman!” He said to you as he once again, spoiled his daughter

Never really calls them cute nicknames unless you cosider silly ones cute— such as calling them monkeys, booger, brat, and squirt

“Come on squirt, eat your vegetables and then you can have desert” he tries to bribe the child into eating the veggies

Kyojuro Rengoku

Loves to play with his kids and calls them his little firecrackers and his little bees

“Come on firecracker, up we go!” He very loudly says as he picks up his two kids at once, one on one arm and other on his other arm, and walks over to you

Loves playing with them and loves to call them munchkins and take turns in throwing them up in the air and catching them just to see them laugh

He lives his kids dearly and sometimes calls them his little sunshine’s, especially considering that they will most likely take after his bright hair

Uzui Tengen

Loves to play around with his kids and is very much considered a fun dad who likes to let them have as much freedom as possible

Because of his very tall and big muscular stature, he loves to let them hang of his arms and let them climb him likes he’s a tree which in turn, he calls them monkeys and koalas

Since he’s the sound hashira, he thought it was such a flamboyant idea to call them little songbirds and he thinks it’s the most genius idea he’s ever had and thinks he’s some comedic genius

“Sleep well now little songbirds, and maybe tomorrow we can go out and bother uncle Kyojuro” it’s not a maybe, it’s a definitely

Mitsuri Kanroji

Adores her kids and thinks they’re the most cutest most lovable kids ever

Will forever baby them no matter how old they are and will definitely call them her little baby/babies and sweetheart(s)

Will coddle them forever and tries to think of the cutest names ever like doodlebug, little doves, duckies/ducklings, baby-face, babykins

The names get cheesier and cheesier and there’s no stopping her. She’s very motherly and is almost like a bear with her cubs (and there’s a new name to call them)

Shinobu Kocho

Is super gentle with her kids and is like a mother hen watching over her chicks, and even called them chicks just to tease them

Since she’s the insect pillar, she thinks calling them doodlebug and ladybugs are the absolute cutest—but she only ever calls them this when she wants to tease them

Normally, calling them munchkins, sweetie and sweethearts are the usual and will protect them at all costs

She’s prepared for everything, a very small scrape on the knee? She has to go take care of her munchkin right away!

“You have to be careful next time sweetie!” She gently scolded her kid as she bandaged their finger even though it was only a paper cut

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minjaeum · 3 months

Text

please head over to @peachesyeo!!

imagine going to the haunted house with ateez.

hongjoong

yup. screaming like no tomorrow. he will grab onto any part of you and hold it like his lifeline. he will scream when the scare actors approach and hide behind you, so he will attempt to protect you by moving you behind his back. if it was little things like sudden gas or blinking lights he will freeze and scream for you to come over and save him. so please, if you're scared of horror do not choose hongjoong to accompany you to the haunted house.

seonghwa

man panicks but wants to protect you. yes, he would scream and all and might cower behind you but at the end he'll just gave you an awkward smile and pretend that the person yapping two seconds ago totally wasn't him. holds your hand and interlock your fingers super tight. seonghwa is kind of the 2/3rd person of ateez i would love to go to a haunted house with.

yunho

enjoys the scares. would protect you if you're scared. i mean, yunho is big, so you can literally climb onto his back like a koala hugging a tree and he would just think that you're so cute while scared. he might suddenly yell in your ear just to tease you, but he is reliable and will protect you if you are really, really scared. a freaking tank in a haunted house, that man is. so pull yunho with you when you enter a haunted house!

yeosang

hmm. i feel like yeosang is the type to quickly recover from situations like this. he would jump back in surprise, ramble a little but quickly return to normal and continue tugging on your hand to walk. you don't have to baby yeosang, that maltese knows his things. the both of you will be giggling together whenever a scare actor jumps out, and when the scare actor goes away he would be curious to where the actor disappear to before focusing back on walking through the haunted house.

san

do i really need to write about san? please bring ear plugs, because man will be screaming in your ear. "DON'T COME CLOSER PLEASE I BEG YOU PLEASE PLEASE GO AWAY." you would have to restrain him though, because san might accidentally throw a punch and the scare actor or something. he tries to protect you, he really did, but he's just so scared at the moment all he could think of is getting away from the scare actor. san would also be very jumpy throughout the maze, reacting to little noises. like hongjoong, he will grab onto you. be careful, because he might tear your clothes by accident.

mingi

hoho. princess mingi needs his knight in shining armour. forget about the earplugs, just go deaf. you never knew mingi could hit high notes like that as you drag him through the maze. however, it's super entertaining as he tried to hide his body behind yours, it's like my cousin's cocker spainel hiding behind the small bonsai plant after i caught her eating my food from the table. (edit on 12 feb 24: RIP lara my angel, she crossed the rainbow bridge.) whoever chooses to accompany mingi to a haunted house (i would never because i want to live too), good luck, soldier. you got a huge, whiny and scared princess to protect. san + joong 2.0.

wooyoung

with this man, the scare actors aren't your number one priority. you must think of the ways to stop this man from throwing you out and saving himself. i see him burying his face in your neck or back and holding you so tight you feel like you're dragging a bear behind you. his mouth would also be activated and you can hear him cursing or whining non stop. "GET THE FUCK AWAY" or "AHHHHH SHIT SHIT SHIT THIS IS SO SCARY" are the two sentences wooyoung would be repeating over and over while in the house. sanjoongmin combined.

jongho

my number one choice. this man scares the scare actors instead. you can scream and cling onto him as long as you like, because he would even throw some insults at the scare actors for not being scary enough. he would even start to judge the actors for their scares and tell you that it's all fake and not scary at all. if the actors scream at him he would 100 percent scream back at a perfect high note.

back to my main?

#ateez #ateez soft hours #ateez ot8 #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #atz x reader #hongjoong #wooyoung #atiny #atz #yunho #yunho x reader #seonghwa #yeosang #san #mingi #jongho #☁️by k

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 2 months

Note

Hey! I just want to say that I think you are seriously one of the most talented writers I’ve ever read. Terms of Endearment has me in an absolute chokehold.

I was wondering if you had anything about our favorite couple to share with us. I’m like an addict looking for their fix!

Aaaaaaah, thank you so much! I am so happy you like this weird little fic. I still can’t believe that I wasn’t immediately hatebombed to death for writing gross medieval incest smut, haha. And that I’ve been writing for over a YEAR now. Weird!

Hm, things to share. Something inconsequential to the plot, but just a little tidbit. Hmmm.

I know!

Babey is a grade-A clinger in her sleep. A leech. A koala bear firmly attached to the eucalyptus tree. Daemon never enjoyed women who were tactile after intimacy before he married her, but there’s just something about how sweet she looks, burrowed so tightly against him it’s like she’s trying to meld into him. It’s part of his whole thing about being her ‘saviour’; he gets off on it not just physically, but emotionally. Her attachment being expressed so obviously is power to him, and a source of satisfaction in many ways (HE got her and no one else did, HE’s her favourite and not anyone else, HE’s the source of her happiness, and of course that he loves her and he knows she loves him). At first, he tolerated it, but now he craves it. He needs to know that she needs him even when she’s not awake to feel that need.

Daemon is fascinated with Babey’s hair. The Targaryens have straight hair at this point, and Babey’s is a bit wild. Her stylings are necessity rather than vanity, or she’d always look like she’s just rolled out of bed. When she’s getting ready in the morning, he’s ‘busy’ at his desk but it’s really just a pretext to watch her and her ladies putting her hair up. When they fuck, he likes to grab at it. Sometimes he gets himself off to the thought of spilling his seed in her hair. He doesn’t know why. It’s just his THING and he doesn’t have an explanation for it.

Babey’s kinda… really into Daemon after he’s been training. Something about the sweat, the dirt, the flush. It makes her pretty enthusiastic, is all I’ll say. She’s yet to actually MENTION it, though she’s not subtle with her body language. Daemon totally knows, which is why he makes it a point to return to his chambers and make a show of undressing for her.

Hope these were worth the read, lol. Thank you so much for the ask!

#fanfiction asks #terms of endearment headcanons #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen fanfiction

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vyntilador · 1 year

Text

Love talk

What are the boys' love languages?

——————————

Genre: Pure fluff<33 except for Luke's part kinda angst

GN!Reader for my besties out there<3

Might make an nsfw of this👀

Luke Pearce

Acts of service/Physical touch

Honestly tho, seeing how he hasn't seen you in like 8 years, I'd think that he'll be clingy by that point like,,, imagine a koala clinging into u😭😭😭

He'll call you over or he'll be the one to come to ur apartment just to cuddle and stuff. You don't even need to talk, he just needs to have you in his arms in a reassuring manner. When you cuddle too while sleeping, your soft breathing and the slow rise and fall of your chest just calms him down so much.

Especially during nights where he gets nightmares about how one day, with you being in the NXX and having to deal with dangerous deeds, he's afraid that he'll lose you. It's during those nights where he holds you tighter against him in a desperate effort to convince himself that you're safe and sound.

If he wakes up and you're not in bed or smthn like that, he's mildly panicking. He shoots up from the bed and is immediately running around yo apartment looking for you only to find you cooking breakfast in the kitchen. The moment he sees you humming whilst cooking with a cute lil apron on, a relaxed smile shows on his face and he slowly walks towards you to hug you from behind<3333

Sometimes with that in mind, he looks out for you a lot during missions. Don't get him wrong; he trusts you but he can't help but have these lingering fear of losing you. The moment that he hears you yelp in pain, he immediately runs over towards you asking what's wrong. Imagine you like trip on a tree root or smthn or stubbed your toe somewhere or had a little cut somewhere.

Poor boy goes mom mode and immediately scolds you gently while tending to you<33 (would def give a soft kisses to wherever u were hurt #lukebestboy)

OH AND WHILE CUDDLING, HED DEFINITELY WHISPER "I love you.." WHILE HAVING HIS FACE BURRI3D IN YOUR NECK OH MYGODDDDDDD

Vyn Richter

Gift giving/Words of affirmation

LOOK AT ME IN MY GOD DAMNED EYES AND TELL ME HE WONT BE OT THERE COMPLIMENTING YOU ON A DAILY BASIS???????

You could be out there, literally just making tea for him and suddenly, the moment he takes a sip, you'd hear that annoyingly gentle voice of his going "You always make the most exquisite tea, My love."

YALL WANNA KNOW WHATS WORSE??? HES SO SUBTLE WITH IT BUT AT THW SAME TIME, HES NOTTTTT

Working from home and ur like sat on ur bed, working on some documents for the lawfirm with Vyn right next to you, just silently admiring you your work and the moment you're done, you show it to him then he turns to look at you with the most amazing, spectacular, breath taking, amazing, beautiful, alluring, jaw dropping, fancy, handsome, soft, gentle, sweet smile of his then he opens his mouth to say, "You did it so perfectly. I'm proud of you."

(this def isnt me just indulging myself into some1 that can actually praise me properly no,,)

On bad days where you just feel like shit, he's immediately off to his garden to pick the most BEAUTIFULLY PERFECT rose he sees and gives it to you with some chocolates and a little teddy bear

When you ask him what are those for he just says "You looked a bit...out of it so I thought that I can give these to you to cheer you up."

An absolute fucking sweetheart nobody talk to me omfg

I personally think he'll do acts of service too like, imagine having just opened your eyes after a good night's sleep and immediately smelling the most delicious smell you've ever smelled then seeing Vyn sitting beside you with a tray of food.

"Good morning, my rose. I wanted you to rest more since you seemed tired last night so I made some breakfast for you:]"

Please praise him too sometimes. He's a huge perfectionist and sometimes feels like he isn't good enough for u so having u reassure him that he's more than enough is just enough to make the poor bby melt</3

*cough* vyn praise kink *cough*

Artem Wing

Words of Affirmation/Acts of service(gift giving)

The absolute KING of acts of service n words of affrimation

He sees you working hard while going to the pantry to get some coffee even tho he has a coffee maker in his office, he's quick to be like "Here's some coffee. You've been doing well these days. Remember to take a few breaks, okay?"

Cue Celestine rubbing her temples in disappointment with Artem bcs wtf,,, did he rlly just gift COFFEE to his crush?? 😭😭 Celestine's on the move to save the day and convince Artem to actually buy u roses or smthn else appropriate for a courting gift💀

Or in that one card, (in sickness or in health(?)) yall saw how Artem literally, with no hesitation, took it upon himself to take care of u??? Husband material frfr

So imagine the same thing happens like,, during field work, the heel of ur shoe broke or to make it more GN, your shoe just broke like, the sole broke off, or it was raining and it made yo shoe very slippery, imagine the worried look on his faceee:((

He'll stop walking and look at you saying, "Should we go back first? I don't think that you'll be able to move around like that...Not that I think that you'll be a burden—"

POOR BLUSHY BBY JUST HAVING A HARD TIME TO EXPRESS HIS FEELINGS

"No, don't move." *proceeds to take off own shoes but u fortunately stop him in time* "Why?:(" If u refuse his offer of his shoes, he'll then try to be more bolder like, one moment you were just looking at him and moments later, you're suddenly in the air and in his arms.

Celestine hiding in the shadows talking through a walkie talkie with mama wing being like "mission accomplished.😎"

Marius von Hagen

Physical touch/Quality time

Another huge clingy baby🕴️

Being a CEO of a large company and still studying takes up A LOT of his time so whenever he has time, he immediately spends it with u<33

He wouldn't care about whatever you were doing in the first place, he's immediately waltzing into ur apartment like its the most natural thing in the world (it is) and just plop down in bed with you.

Yknow, I kinda think that hes an all-around kinda guy with this love language thing. Like, he'll sometimes discreetly paint/draw you and would give it to you, if youre feeling down or just tired with his bs, hes wasting no time to immediately pamper you with kisses and whisper sweet nothings in ur ear

If you give him a gift, he'll absolutely cherish it like it's a multimillion dollar treasure (doesnt even matter what u gave him, you could give this dumbass a rock and he'd cry tears of joy)

Give him a single pebble and hes looking at you like "🥺" and saying "For me???🥺"

Yeah so all in all, he's just a 6ft bby that would absolutely spoil the living SHIT out of you bcs u deserve it<3 (congrats on bagging a billionaire bestie)

*ehem* i rlly wanna add a slight nsfw so ill make it on a diff part or smthn it's currently wip so ill link it here whem it's done *ehem*

#tears of themis #luke pearce #luke pearce x mc #luke pearce x reader #vyn richter #vyn x reader #vyn richter x reader #artem wing #artem x mc #artem x you #marius von hagen #marius x mc #marius x reader

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karlwriting · 2 years

Text

Falling asleep beside Nanami Kento

Reblog is appreciated:)

I wrote a bit longer to add more fluff this time, aiming to give you all diabetes

There is a Gojo version in my tumblr as well.

Nanami ‧─═♥═─‧

You are working on your desk in the bedroom, wondering when will Nanami be back from work. Working overtime on Friday sounds like a torture.

“It’s almost 11pm already, Kento must be having a busy day. Gosh i miss him so much…” Although you two are already living together, both of you still think of each other A LOT after a few hours of separation. Suddenly you heard the door unlocks and your heart beats with anticipation.

“I’m home angel, where are you?” Nanami looks for you right after he hanged his briefcase on the hook. He can’t wait to be close to you after a long day of work. He missed everything about you - your scent, your giggles, and your touch.

“Guess where i am Kento~” you playfully say it out loud to give him a hint. You feel so happy to finally be able to see him.

‘Such a naughty girl, cute.’ He knew you are in the shared bedroom immediately. How would he not know?

“Nanami the wolf is coming to get the red riding hood, where will she be?” He loosens his tie and walks to the bedroom slowly. He gets a bit excited by simply imagining you as an adorable red riding hood. This wolf can’t wait for much longer to eat you up.

“Here you are, busy with work?” Nanami opens the bedroom door and finds you still using your Mac.

“Yeah, Gojo told me to make a list of the missing people in Tokyo”

‘Gonna add cyanide to Gojo’s dessert tomorrow.’ Nanami shows you the sweetest smile while his brain is creating a hundred ways to kill Gojo. (Gojo: sneezed)

“Such a hard working lady, feel free to ask me if you got doubts. Now this wolf is gonna take a bath first *kiss*, wait for me sweetheart.” he kisses your cheek then heads to the bathroom. You start to nod off on your desk during the wait.

10 minutes has passed. Nanami walks out from the bathroom with a bathrobe and saw you fell asleep on the desk.

‘You must be really tired from work.’ His heart breaks when he notices your dark circles. It makes him even more determined to torture Gojo.

“Angel, lets go to bed, don’t sleep on the desk.” He walks to you and gently massages your shoulders.

“Hm… sure. Oh you’ve finished bathing?” You wake up and give him a sleepy smile. The way you smile so lovely makes his desire burn more fiercely. But he knows you are tired, so he takes a deep breath instead. He is a patient man.

“Yeah, let’s get you to sleep shall we? Wrap your arms around my neck angel.” He leans his upper body to you, so you can hug his neck. Nanami easily holds you close in his arms with only one pull. Your legs wrapping around his waist as he slowly walks towards the king size bed. You can feel his defined muscles underneath the bathrobe.

“I am dating an adorable koala bear ain’t i?” he chuckles and fills your lips with kisses. His lips are warm and moist from the bath.

“Then you are the only tree that i’ll hug” you both laugh at the joke. He feels honoured to be the tree.

Nanami gently puts you down to bed and covers you with the fluffy comforter. Seeing you lying on bed so peacefully, Nanami joins you and carefully pulls you closer. You bury your head to his chest, feeling so secure and warm.

“This wolf is gonna behave tonight, cuz you need to be well-rested for tomorrow. We are gonna have an unforgettable day off. Sweet dreams.” He presses his lips to yours, then turns off the bed side lamps.

You are kinda looking forward to it.

⁄(⁄ ⁄ ⁄ω⁄ ⁄ ⁄)⁄

#jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #nanami imagine

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acciocriativity · 6 months

Text

JONGHO AS A BEAR HYBRID - RAISED LIKE SIBLINGS EDITION

(Photos are not mine, credits for the rightful owners)

Ateez Masterlist

I'm a bit late, but I had to write a little something for Jongho's birthday and this is my absolute favorite hc of him, so here we go! I could go on and on about it too, should I make a one shot of this? 👀

The moment your parents got an anonymous call to rescue a hybrid cat out of someone’s abandoned house, they didn’t think they would find a cub bear near the woods, alone and shot in the process.

To this day, that call would be an unsolved puzzle. First, there was no cat hybrid. Second, it was illegal to hunt in that area for many reasons. Third, why anyone would contact a small hybrid rescue organization instead of a wildlife rehabilitator?

They found out the answer for only one of those questions.

While they were in the car, the cub shifted to his human form due to lack of energy and blood. The little boy could barely speak or move, his poor condition clear as a day.

The good news were, from then on he’d have a home and, if he wanted to, a family to take care of him.

You both grew up together.

It was weird to explain the dynamic of you two to anyone who asked. There was no hierarchy between the two of you, something not as common as it was now. You were kind of like siblings, but without the constant urge to fight for everything.

Jongho would never fight you. Not because he didn’t want to sometimes (most times), but because he made a promise the moment he was accepted into the family. He would fight for your family, in whatever way they needed, so that includes you.

That meant, even when you were being stubborn for no reason or just annoying, he wouldn’t fight you. Instead, he would just… judge you in silent until you stopped.

There were some fights here and there, of course. His patience wasn’t eternal, and he had his own feelings and moments of being annoying too… although he blames 99% of those on you.

But who’s counting, right?

You learned all the little things about him from a young age, so you knew him with the back of your hand.

Like the urge he had for affection, even though he hated to ask for it, so much so he would rather be shot again.

Of course, you’d cling to him like a koala all day long and he just… stood there, like an actual tree, paralyzed and overthinking ever second of it.

With time, he got used to the feeling and dare I say, he loved it a lot, but would never say it. If it makes you feel better, it would be plastered on his forehead the confusion and sadness the moment you stopped. He didn’t notice his pout, either.

Or like the way he’d never speak without being spoken to. That didn’t last for long, but while it did, you made sure to ask him as many questions as you could think about.

It ranged from do you know why the sky is blue? to can I touch your ears please, please? He would always say no to the last one until your parents said to stop asking.

You did, but you couldn’t help watching it all the time. It was small, round and it looked fluffy. It was the perfect combination to make anyone in their right minds give a little pet, you know? Still, you respected he needed his space.

He also knew you with the back of his hand. He observed every single habit of all of your family, because he had to be sure they were safe to be around. Then he kept doing it because he wanted to understand why you were so different from every other human he met.

Even though, you were so annoying and loud and sometimes a bit dumb as a child, you were also kind-hearted and generous since little. You didn’t even complain when you had to leave your own room for him to stay, you were soo worried and scared because of the bad condition you saw him in.

You were sincere in your questions about hybrids, how did he do things or why he did it, not in the way he sometimes felt with other people, who looked at him like a fascinating animal and nothing more.

He was grateful for whoever made that call and saved his life by bringing your parents to him, even though he always asked himself who could it be.

#ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez headcanons #ateez masterlist #jongho x reader #ateez!hybrid #ateez au #kpop hybrid au #hybrid au #jongho fluff #jongho headcanon

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celientjeee · 7 months

Text

The room was dark when Lando stepped inside. He didn't bother to turn on the lights as he kicked off his shoes and blindly made his way to the bed, pulling his shirt over his head as he walked.

'Lan, is that you?'

Lando hummed, wiggled out of his pants and climbed onto the bed where his two boyfriends were already waiting for him.

Oscar moved to make room for him and Lando wasted no time to drop down on the now empty space between him and Charles.

It was still warm from Oscar's body and Lando let out a long sigh when both Charles and Oscar cuddled up against him.

Charles tangled their legs together while Oscar's arm snaked around Lando's waist. The both of them pressed their faces into his chest and for a moment they just layed there, breathing in and out at the same time, in complete silence.

'That sucked,' Oscar said, breaking the silence, his voice hoarse.

'Yeah,' Charles agreed. 'It did, but at least you know your car is fast.'

'At least you didn't fuck it up,' Lando mumbled, nuzzling his nose into Charles' hair.

He loved his longer hair, it was fluffy and sexy.

'You weren't the only one, baby, so don't even start,' Charles pinched Lando's side, making him yelp.

'He's right you know,' Oscar said. 'And it doesn't help to dwell on it. We can feel sorry for ourselves now, but tomorrow we'll start all over again and Sunday we will fight and push, and do all that we can.'

Lando turned his head to press his nose into Oscar's hair this time, it smelled, fruity, yet earthy, like his shampoo.

'Well, it's still today. Can't we just be grumpy about it and cuddle?'

Immediately the two bodies on either side of Lando clung to him even more, like two koala bears on a tree.

'Always,' Charles said

'Sure,' Oscar replied.

Once again they fell silent and Lando closed his eyes, listening to their breathing, focussing on the heat of their skins touching each other and trying really, really hard not to think about how angry and disappointed he was with himself.

'I can hear you thinking, you know,' Oscar broke the silence again.

'Yeah, it's pretty loud,' Charles agreed. 'Even louder than my thoughts.'

Well, that's something. Usually Charles was the over-thinker of the three.

'Oh shut up, you can't hear anything. Like you two aren't bummed about this, just let me be.'

'We are,' Charles said. 'But not a chance, you wouldn't let me either if the roles were reversed.'

He had a point, but Lando sure as hell wasn't going to admit that. He just wanted to sulk for a little.

He could have started P2 for crying out loud.

He was allowed to sulk and mope for a bit, wasn't he?

'We don't have to talk about, you know,' Oscar said, pressing his lips against Lando's neck.

'Oh?'

'Hmhm, Osc is right, we can distract you,' Charles lifted himself up on his elbow so he could kiss Lando.

And kiss they did.

It was a great distraction.

#i don't know what this is #i was going to sleep and then this happened #wrote it in my notes on my phone #it calmed my mind down somehow #the ending sucks but i have to Zzzsleeeeep #lando/oscar/charles #f1 rpf #landoscar #charlando #might delete later #byeeeeeeeee and good night #celinewrites

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