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chaoticbardlady99 · 5 months

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Yesterday I Felt like Dancing (Astarion x GN! Reader)

Synopsis: You have burnt both ends of the candle and haven’t been taking care of your mental health. Unable to get yourself out of bed, Astarion begins to worry about you…

Author note- I have been hardcore struggling with my mental health lately and writing my silly little fics has been the only thing pulling me along. I thought it might be therapeutic to write about my current feelings (I have ADHD, MDD, and GAD so it’s a party up in here). I hope you enjoy!

CW- Suicidal Ideation, symptoms of depression, brief outburst, mentions of mental health diagnosis and poor medical advice.

Title inspired by song “Into the Walls” by Griff.

*not my pic, could not tell you where I found it so I apologize in advance. If you think it might be your picture, please message me so I can give proper credit.

Your last day before backtracking from the Mountain Pass to the Goblin camp is a difficult one.

Not for the group as a whole- just you specifically.

Days before a Mindflayer kidnapped you, a healer back home had told you your brain was sick. You had been devastated- resigned to your miserable fate.

You had been struggling for years at that point with inconsistent motivation, exhaustion, nightmares, and irrational thoughts for months. You have been functional for the most part, but then an overpowering wave will hit you like Warhammer in the ribs and you are rendered useless until it passes.

The healer suggested sunlight, exercise, eating healthy, and spending time with friends to help your affliction when you hit rock bottom. You were wildly unimpressed with her. At the time, you preferred to self isolate so you stayed by yourself in the woods trying to find peace there. You would have to let her know that her “going out and enjoying the sun” message is not always wise- you may get a tadpole shoved in your head. You can’t be that mad though- the tadpole helped bring your pep back.

Anyway, you have been doing all of that for weeks now, you even felt great, but today? You could not have hit rock bottom harder even if you tried.

You woke up that morning unable to get yourself out of bed. It was a rest day so it wasn’t a big deal, but you also know that your companions are going to have things they need to talk to you about and favors they need you to take care of.

Gods you had tried to get up. You are grateful that your past self had the gumption to wash off and change into clean clothes last night, but your armor is still disgustingly sitting outside your tent and your hair is long and wild. You had wanted to braid it, but it all felt like too much work.

Everything feels like too much work right now- even staying awake- so you drift in and out of uncomfortable naps throughout the morning. No matter how many times you fall asleep, begging for relief from the painful brick wall sitting on your brain, it never leaves.

You can feel the midday breeze rustle your tent. You’ve been laying here for hours now. You are crying and you honestly aren’t sure why. You feel completely paralyzed by all the things you need to do to be ready for the Underdark.

You need to clean your armor, go over the Goblin Camp’s map with Wyll, find Gale a magical artifact, and probably comfort Lae’zel since she’s been branded a heretic- but you won’t. The shame and self loathing continues. You are a silly, worthless little human being.

Every person who knocks on your tent gets a simple, “I’m just not feeling well,” and then they walk away. You don’t know why it makes you more sad than appreciative. If you were in their shoes- you would be bending over backwards to make sure they had everything they needed and you wouldn’t let them feel alone. Then you resent yourself for feeling that way towards your companions- they don’t owe you anything and you were the one who chose to help them- you didn’t ask for anything in return. This is all your fault.

The only person who hadn’t come to visit you was Astarion- which hurt your heart just a little, enough that the numbness coursing thickly through your body wavered for a moment. You are quite smitten and he is obviously not. Another mistake to add to the swirling black hole your mind has fallen into.

You knew it was stupid to want his comfort and affections- you had merely slept together a little less than a week ago. Astarion has been quasi avoiding you ever since and when he does talk to you- he’s awkward. You constantly look for flying pigs- Astarion feeling awkward or being awkward is unheard of.

You have come to accept that you were just some tryst and obviously he hadn’t enjoyed it as much as he said he did.

Astarion isn’t to blame and the situation itself certainly didn’t contribute to the sudden lack of emotions. You knew that you were on the verge of a mental collapse sooner rather than later, but you had foolishly hoped you wouldn’t be alone through it. It feels less all consuming when you try to find a reason. It’s more comfortable to know than it is to give up and say, “my brain is fucked and there isn’t a damn thing I can do so I guess I’m stuck here.”

You are jolted out of your thoughts by another knock on your tent.

“I’m sick,” you say flatly.

“Ha- you act like that will deter me. I can’t even get sick, Darling.”

Before you even have time to register that Astarion is on the other side of your tent- he pushes his way through the flaps and stares down at you in confusion. And… concern?

Astarion steps inside and kneels down next to you- scanning you for evidence of illness or injury.

“I suppose I had been worried for nothing,” he smiles sweetly at you, “you are totally fine. Come on Darling, you have to get up and eat. Wyll is fumbling with that map.”

You look at him and begin to cry. Astarion’s face lights up with alarm.

“What- what did I do!?”

“Please don’t make me,” you sob, “I just want a break. I’m so tired. I want to lay in this bed forever and never leave, but there is so much to do and it’s paralyzing.”

You continue to cry and you cover yourself with the extra blanket- successfully hiding your face.

“Go away,” you whisper, “I need to be left alone.”

You say it, but you are far from meaning it. You want him to stay- to hold you- but he doesn’t want you so it will only make everything hurt worse once the numbness fades away.

You wait for several moments and then you hear him leave. Your silent cry turns into choked sobs and your body is shaking from the pain you are in. The numbness hurts. The numbness tells you that you shouldn’t be alive.

Maybe you shouldn’t be.

Everyone here would be able to figure it out on their own (eventually) and you would finally be free. Free of your uncomfortable brain, free of your ugly body- free of the expectations of others. You would no longer be holding them back like you are today- like you will again in the future.

You are sure they would temporarily grieve you, but that was the deal with this whole journey. You had all accepted that one of you or all of you could die at any moment. You will just put them in more danger by being here…

You shake the thought from your head, violently- your head is pounding from the growing tension headache and dehydration. The tears eventually stop and you just… well, lay in bed again. You stare blankly at a book over in the corner. You keep trying to convince yourself to get up and read the damn thing- do literally ANYTHING else than just stay here in your bedroll.

Instead, you fall asleep.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You wake up to someone knocking on your tent post. You grumble incoherently, covering your head and you hear your unexpected guest sit down next to you. The smell of food fills the tent and your stomach grumbles.

“You need to eat, my Dear,” Astarion says softly.

You are stunned to hear his voice grace your ears. You slowly pull the blanket down to just below your eyes and look at him. Astarion looks distressed, like he doesn’t want to be here. Why would he? You’re a nuisance.

You sit up gingerly and grab the bowl from him. You manage to give him a lopsided smile.

“Thanks. You don’t need to stay, I will be fine on my own,” you say apathetically, staring into the broth.

“I want to stay,” he says, “if you’ll have me.”

The expression on his face is unreadable, but he seems genuine. You nod, your lips pressed together tightly. You eat as much as you feel like while Astarion studies you.

Usually your anxiety is at an all time high (in maybe one of the better ways) when you are around Astarion- he gives you butterflies, butterflies, and even more butterflies. Usually your heart is racing in his presence, but right now you just feel empty.

“Where is your hairbrush?” Astarion asks.

You frown with confusion, “it’s in my bag, why?”

Astarion gets up and goes over to the bag- digging out a few items. He pulls out a lantern, your hairbrush, and a hair tie. Astarion comes over to you and sits down behind you. You feel him gather up the stray pieces of your hair and get to work.

Astarion runs his fingers through your scalp and your tangled hair- the feeling is soothing and it opens something inside of you. Your body shakes silently with sobs and you feel the worm behind your eyes wiggle as Astarion asks for access. You aren’t sure.

“I want to understand,” Astarion says, “please.”

His voice is so raw and desperate- you swallow thickly before allowing him to explore your current emotional state. The silence in the tent is palpable and you feel tense, uncomfortable even. No one has ever cared for you while you are in this state before.

You feel him continue his hairbrushing after he exits your mind. Astarion leaves soft kisses on your shoulder as he gently pulls apart every knot. It helps- you realize- to feel cared for. The numbness still hurts, you still hurt, but it’s nice to not feel so alone.

After Astarion is done brushing your hair, you feel his delicate fingers begin to intricately braid your hair. You wonder when he learned how to do hair.

“Leon’s daughter, Victoria, used to ask me to braid her hair all the time,” Astarion says in a bittersweet voice as if reading your mind, “I picked it up so that she would stop bugging me about it. She said and I quote, ‘you have the perfect braiding hands!’”

You smile to yourself tenderly, “That’s very kind of you, Star. I am sure she appreciated it as much as I appreciate it now.”

You feel Astarion’s hands falter at your words and you are unsure if you have upset him or not. A pregnant pause occurs before Astarion finally clears his throat and goes back to braiding your hair.

“I’m glad that I can help,” Astarion’s delicate, vulnerable words hang in the air, “I’ve… been worried about you today.”

You feel positively flustered and bad for making him feel that way.

“Oh you don’t need to worry about silly ole me! This happens sometimes” you make your voice chirpier than it needs to be, “This is actually the longest I’ve gone for a long time without this happening. I have theorized that the tadpole might help which is kinda cool- I think?”

You laugh awkwardly- desperate to ease his worry.

“How often does this happen?”

Shit. That was the winning question wasn’t it? Astarion will surely never see you as anything less than broken now.

“I’m not really sure,” your voice comes out in a whisper, “I usually always feel a bit of it all the time, but it’s manageable. I function very well regardless.”

“But this one isn’t manageable and evidently you aren’t functional right now.”

You sigh, “No, it isn’t and no, I’m not.”

“What changed?”

“Nothing,” you say, maybe too harshly, “that’s the part that drives me crazy. Yesterday was incredible- I was on top of the whole world, felt like dancing and screaming from the rooftops, but today!?”

You inhale and hold back the muted scream that wants to fill the air.

“Today,” you hiss, “I don’t even want to deal with any of this shit anymore. I’m so fucking tired. There is too much to fucking do and too many people depending on me. Then everyone gets irritated with me if I ask to push off their problems so I persevere through it despite knowing I’m getting bad again. I’m a giant stinking trash heap that everyone keeps adding more to.”

Astarion finishes braiding your hair and presses your back to his chest, pulling you into him. He puts his arms around your waist and settles his chin and face in between the crook of your neck.

“I just feel like such a nuisance all the time- no matter how hard I push myself to prove I’m not. Sometimes I think everyone would be better off if I just… went away.”

You both sit there quietly. At some point he had taken one of your hands in his and he was tracing shapes into the back of it with his thumb. Your omission still hangs heavily in the air.

“I wouldn’t be better off,” Astarion says hotly, “I’d be stuck with all these weirdos by myself. That would be truly miserable, Darling.”

You shake your head, a half smile on your face.

“And besides- you are not even close to a nuisance,” Astarion states, leaving a kiss on your cheek, “at least you aren’t in constant need of magical objects to eat or blood to drink. Oh and you don’t require a painstaking amount of searching to prevent you from literally burning everyone alive.

“Oh and did I forget to mention, we have not one, but two women who despise each other and follow hateful Goddesses which was a fun choice for whatever sick bastard twisted our fates this way.”

You laugh breathily, closing your eyes and letting the sound defrost some of your insides.

“What I’m saying is- I think you are the least of everyone’s ‘nuisances’, my Darling,” he says, squeezing you tighter to his chest, “despite how little you think of yourself. We ne- no, I want you to stay. I know everyone else would say the same, but I must emphasize that I would be horribly distraught if you disappeared. Hells I’d even pay to have you resurrected.”

You gasp playfully, your voice falling slightly flat, “You? The most frugal man I have ever met would pay 200 gold coins to ‘Strike thy name from the record’?”

Your impression of Withers gets Astarion to genuinely laugh- the sound vibrating in your chest. You lean into him and he guides you back to laying down. Astarion entangles his legs with yours as he holds you tightly- your faces are mere centimeters apart. You love the way Astarion smells- rosemary, bergamot, and brandy. You wish you could be wrapped up in him forever. You are still in pain- everything still hurts and feels too difficult, but right now it feels a little less heavy.

“I would throw bags of Gold Coins at that corpse out of revenge, my Dear,” he teases, “you couldn’t possibly think I would ever let you rest peacefully in your grave- I would be far too angry with you and unhappy without you to let that happen.”

You lay there and despite yourself, you lean forward and leave butterfly kisses along his cheeks with your lashes. Astarion scrunches up his nose reflexively and smiles at you. You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips.

“Thank you Astarion- for everything.”

You close your eyes as he traces circles along your lower back. Your eyes begin to droop, and you fall asleep.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When you wake up the next morning- you are disappointed to find that you are all alone in your tent. The heavy numbness is still there and you sigh. At least last night made it more bearable.

You look on the side where Astarion had been sleeping and find a note with a bottle attached to it. You pick it up and begin to read.

Tav,

Astarion had asked me about herbs for some relief regarding mental discomforts. I unfortunately don’t know many, but this is a mixture of St. John’s Wort, Valerian Root, and Ashwagandha. Historically, I know these have been used to alleviate emotional and mental pain.

Astarion didn’t tell me why he was asking, but I deduced it was you pretty quickly when he began shooing everyone away from your tent this morning.

I hope this helps- we are all here if you need us. May Silvanus light your path as you navigate this difficult time.

-Halsin

You sit in your own stunned silence for what feels like hours. Halsin knows and he wants to help? Halsin doesn’t think you are screwed or a nuisance? The man barely even knows you!

You are a bit embarrassed, but you can’t help but laugh at the image of Astarion telling everyone to leave you alone.

You open the bottle and a pleasant, earthy smell fills the tent. You drink the mixture (that definitely does not taste anywhere near as pleasant as it smells) and you do feel a slight bit better. Your apathy feels even more tolerable now. You will have to thank Halsin.

You slowly rise from your tent and look around. Everything is packed up neatly in the corner- your clothes from the previous day are folded nicely and you notice all the holes are sewn up.

You jump when someone enters your tent abruptly- the midday sun warming your skin. You turn around and Astarion is smiling at you, but looks nervous.

“I cleaned off your armor and your weapons,” he says awkwardly, scratching the back of his head, “I also packed up your stuff- as you can see. We have to start leaving unfortunately, but I’ll help you get on your armor like I usually do- I might still need help with mine though, but I can ask someone else if it’s too much for you right now. Lae’zel and Karlach offered to pack up your tent. Wyll and Shadowheart figured out the map- Wyll is going to be our ‘fearless’ leader for the day. Gale has some food for you to snack on while we travel- which you will be eating, by the way.”

Astarion is looking at you with a vulnerable expression on his face. He plays nervously with the gold coin in his hands.

You can hardly believe what you are hearing.

“Did- did you do all this for me?” You say with disbelief.

You never thought Astarion was capable of smiling shyly until he had admitted to you that you had been his first thinking creature- you certainly never thought you’d see him become shy twice in your presence.

“I did and it wasn’t a nuisance so don’t even begin to worry about that,” He walks over to you, gently cradling your face in his hands, “I hope this is all okay.”

You smile- the first genuine feeling of happiness you’ve felt in the last 24 hours gently sparks in your chest as you stare up at him. You get up on your tiptoes and bridge the gap between your lips.

“Thank you Astarion, this is perfect- you are perfect,” you are crying tears of joy, “this is the kindest gesture anyone has ever made for me. So just, thank you.”

“Of course, Darling,” he says smiling in between kisses, “I won’t let you lose to yourself. We’ll get through this together from now on- no more hiding.”

And for once? You actually believe someone.

-if you guys like this, please let me know if you would want a part two written from Astarion’s perspective.

Update- I did the thing you silly geese

https://www.tumblr.com/chaoticbardlady99/735969926279528448/i-took-all-this-love-i-found-and-i-hope-that-its

Tag-list: @spacebarbarianweird @domainoflostsouls

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x you #bg3 spoilers #astarion romance #astarion x tav #bg3 #karlach #astarion x gn!tav #astarion x gender neutral reader #bg3 astarion #astarion acunin #mental health #actually adhd #and anxious #and depressed

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thebibliosphere · 7 months

Note

What are your thoughts on authors writing and posting fanfiction of their own work? Do you think being self published vs traditionally published makes a difference? I tried searching around about the topic before but found nothing conclusive, other than the statement, "if you're the owner of the work, you might as well make more money off of it," which doesn't sit right with me.

I mean, I'm quite (in)famously writing an AU fic of my own work (Sugar Vladdy) purely for fun and because Tumblr has a unique ability to pilot my lack of impulse control like the ADHD version of Ratatouille.

Numerous people have told me they'd buy Sugar Vladdy if I ever decided to make it into a proper book. Frankly, I'm not interested in that because my motives for writing Hunger Pangs vs. Sugar Vladdy were different.

Writing for profit vs writing for fandom occupy different spaces in my brain. They scratch different itches. Yes, I'm playing around with the same characters. But I'm sort of just treating it like enrichment in my enclosure. It lets my brain throw around all the ideas that wouldn't work for those characters within the canon universe but still likes to go, "Oh, but what if..."

Honestly. No idea how much of that is my ADHD or what, but that's the only way I can explain it. They're the same, but they're not. They're fun in different ways. And I can get away with it because I'm self-pub. I haven't sold the rights to anyone. The world and characters are mine. I can put my blorbos into situations if I want to.

Now, if I were trad-pub, there would probably be a lot of restrictions about what I can and cannot do surrounding my own characters because I've sold the rights for X amount of time. I couldn't just give things away. It might be considered a breach of contract if I did. It'd definitely be something I'd need to run by an agent first just to make sure.

As for not liking the "might as well make money off it" mindset, as a literal struggling writer who lives paycheck to paycheck, I'm not going to judge anyone who keeps their official work as for profit only. People deserve to be paid for their labor. If they/we want to create stuff away for free, that's up to us.

Would I personally find it stifling and joy-killing to only ever write for profit? Yes. But that's a me thing. Not a universal thing.

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ssa-montgomery · 1 year

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in my imagination, you're waitin' lyin' on your side (with your hands between your thighs)

Word Count: 6799

Summary: Y/N's sexual frustration over Daryl gets the best of her and she takes things into her own hands, but what she wasn't counting on was Daryl seeking her out mid-session.

Characters: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, smut, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, masturbation, reader is walked in on, orgasm control, orgasm denial/delay, begging, dom/sub, use of submissive terms (good girl), mention of scars.

A/N: Yet another request from @azanoni from my prompt requests and I had so much fun writing this! I had been looking for an excuse to write a fic with this premise for so long and it's finally here! I have to admit I had a bit of an excited freak out when I saw this request. I hope you all enjoy yet another Daryl fic! Please do keep the requests coming in :D

I apologise if you've seen this fic pop up on your timeline a couple of times today! I'm having some issues with it being hidden from the tags :/ Hoping a repost later in the day might help!

Prompt(s): "Shit I'm sorry I didn't mean to- I um should've knocked."

Feedback is what motivates me to work so please let me know what you think! Reblogs are also greatly appreciated.

Taglist is open!

Masterlist

The safety of the farm had quickly become one of your favourite places in the prison to spend your free time. Admittedly it wasn't much, just a few patches of land you'd managed to sow with help from Hershel's farming experience and the small few animal pens that had recently been built to house the horses and chickens found by the community but you found it peaceful there. Sometimes all you needed was an escape from the constant reminders of the broken thing the world beyond these fences had become and tending to the farm let you provide food for your people without ever having to go out on a run, the physical work in the soil helping to calm your mind.

When you'd found Beth in your usual spot you offered to help her for the morning. That's how you found yourself kneeling in the dirt, digging around in the soil to pull loose the tangled roots of the weeds that had now started to show among the vegetables. The early autumn sun was warm against your skin while you worked out in the open but you didn't mind. The heat and easy conversation offered you an escape from the thoughts that had been plaguing your mind worse than usual since you woke that morning.

You were sure that by now your attraction to Daryl Dixon was no secret among the community of the prison, after all, you were far from shy about it. You'd developed a puppy dog crush on him that first day that he and the group welcomed you into the prison and it had only spiralled out of control since then. It was more than just butterflies and flushed cheeks every time you talked now, it was a need that had grown into something stronger, an undeniable pull towards the man.

Everyone that took the time to look in your direction was aware of the not-so-secret flirting on your end, the teasing comments you'd pester him with at every meal that would have him snapping at anyone that wasn't you. They'd all seen the subtle touches to his arms and shoulders, the longing stares whenever he was around. It was far from hidden but it seemed the only person who wasn't aware of your attraction was Daryl himself.

He remained oblivious to any and all of your attempts. No matter how much you tried to hint at what you really wanted from the archer it all seemed to fall on deaf ears as all you got in response were friendly but awkward compliments mumbled in return and nothing more. You hoped that it was him being unable to pick up on the social cues of your flirting and not that he was simply uninterested in you like that.

One of these days you were going to have a make a proper move on him. Something bold and obvious enough even to him, something that he wouldn't be able to deny that you wanted him anymore. Something that would finally show him what everyone else around you already saw but for now, you simply didn't have the courage.

You were lost in the thought of it, only being pulled back to reality by a low noise approaching the prison. You recognised it immediately, the rumble of tires as they rolled over the gravel. You had spent one too many days standing out here, waiting for that sound while you held your breath, waiting for the safe return of your people. You looked up from the clump of weeds in your hand to see the van Daryl and Rick had taken out that morning rolling to a stop just a few feet away from you.

There were certain spots in the fence that were growing weaker than anyone was comfortable with because of the number of walkers that had been attracted to the prison recently, the chain links threatening to give out under their weight as they pressed against it. Daryl and Rick headed out early that morning, tasked with finding the resources to reinforce the fence in any way they could. You watched as they exited the van one by one and your eyes locked on Daryl the second his feet hit the ground, following his movements as he made his way around the back of the van to release the door.

You leaned back sitting on your heels in the dirt as you slid off your gloves, watching Daryl bend over to try and pull one of the heavy wooden pallets they'd found on the scavenge from the van. From where you were sitting you couldn't see what they'd managed to bring home, Daryl's broad back blocking your view but you certainly weren't complaining. He leaned further into the back and propped one foot up onto the van trying to give himself some leverage as he reached for the back corner of the pallet sliding it towards Rick but in the process the movement made his shirt ride up, giving you the perfect view of his lower back.

You knew you shouldn't have let yourself indulge in this as much as you were but already you could feel that need you'd grown all too familiar with starting in the pit of your stomach. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the way the muscles in his shoulders moved under his skin, straining against the weight. No matter how much you tried to fight it your mind was starting to wander, imagining what those muscles would feel like under your hands, straining instead with the effort of holding himself above you. The Georgian sun had covered his skin in a thin layer of sweat and you couldn't help but wonder what he would look like sweating like that thanks to an entirely different heat. You pressed your thighs together, hoping to ease some of the desperation that seemed to have settled under your skin.

The first couple of pallets were now stacked up on the ground next to Rick but Daryl could already feel the uncomfortable pull on his muscles with each pallet he pulled out. Apparently giving up on his current method of moving the pallets Daryl instead jumped up into the back of the van to push them out, finally catching a glimpse of you watching them from the farm.

"Hi." He nodded his head in your direction, squinting his eyes against the sun as they lingered over you, realising that you weren't just watching them work you were staring at him with a certain intensity behind your eyes. For a moment it seemed like he was studying you.

"You boys need a hand there?" You offered as you cleared your throat and gestured towards the pallets, dropping your glove down into the dirt next to you, your original task long forgotten about already. You tried to mask your thoughts with an innocent smile in their direction but little did you know Daryl could already read you like an open book.

"Nah. All good 'ere." Daryl said with a shake of his head, making his hair fall down into his face. He turned his attention away from you again, saying something to Rick about getting Glenn to help with setting up the new protection on the walls but you couldn't shake the way he'd looked at you. You were a lost cause at this point, the inappropriate thoughts your mind was already supplying increased tenfold until they took over every other thought you had.

"I need a shower. Think I'm gonna turn in for the rest of the afternoon, I'm feelin' a little unwell. I'm sure it's just the heat, nothin' to worry about." You explained tripping over your words as you turned to Beth, quickly scrambling to your feet. You mumbled your thanks with a half-hearted wave in her direction, briefly aware of her well wishes as you made your way back towards the cell block but you'd already stopped listening. The only thing you could hear now was the thumping of your heart in your ears. It was more than likely just your imagination playing tricks on you but for a moment you could have sworn you felt Daryl's eyes following you as you retreated inside.

~~~

Your excuse to get out of helping on the farm wasn't entirely a lie, after being out there for hours you truly did need a shower. You started the stream of water and let out of sigh of relief as you stepped under it. You took your washcloth and scrubbed at the dirt that had settled in layers over your skin clinging to the sweat there. You hoped that the warm water running over your skin would calm your thoughts, washing your desperation down the drain with the dirt but unfortunately, it seemed to do just the opposite for you. It felt like your entire body was on edge, needing something, anything to quiet the feeling. You titled your head back, letting the warmth run over your skin as you finally let yourself give into one of the many fantasies you'd been harbouring recently.

Your mind wandered to the thought of what would happen if Daryl chose that exact moment to come inside from the heat, deciding that he needed a shower after the rough work of the supply run. Maybe he'd choose the same shower block as you, rounding the corner to see you with your back to him, standing naked under the stream of water as he took in the sight of your body. Your heart was picking up speed, threatening to beat out of your chest as your eyes closed letting you picture every detail of your fantasy perfectly.

You slowly ran your hand down your chest, groping at your breast as you imagined him stripping off to join you, his hands finding your waist the second he stepped under the water. The two of not sharing a word as he ran his fingers across your ribs, appreciating the feeling of your skin under his hands. You let out a content hum, so lost in the thought that you were practically able to feel the sensation of his lips on your neck, his body pressing against your back. Your hand moved lower, sliding across your stomach as you pretended it was his calloused fingertips touching you, the water pouring over you both as his hand glided lower and lower until he reached -

You brought a hand up and quickly slammed off the water, letting out a harsh breath as you ripped yourself from your thoughts. It took you a second to regain your bearings before you stepped out of the shower and grabbed the towel you'd left out for yourself. You were willing to admit it wouldn't have been the first time you'd gotten off to the thought of Daryl but here wasn't the place for it. Privacy was just another thing on the ever-growing list of what you'd lost to the end of the world but the shower block was far too open for your liking. There was too much risk of someone other than Daryl actually walking in on you if you took too long and the thought made you shudder.

You quickly towelled yourself dry, leaving your hair still damp as you threw on the fresh clothes you'd gotten for yourself. You gathered up your old clothes that were now caked with dirt and dropped them into the laundry basket along with your towel to deal with later as you made your way back to your cell. The prison was more open plan than you'd like but at least here you had more privacy than anywhere else. There was a heavy blanket that you'd managed to scavenge pinned up over the bars that faced the main hall to provide you with a makeshift cover from the on-lookers in the prison.

The cellblock was quiet, everyone else still outside or in other parts of the prison working on their chores as you slipped inside your cell. The blanket fell back into place behind you and you carefully shifted it to cover any gaps you noticed, making it sure it would be impossible to see inside. Once you were done you kicked your shoes off to one side, collapsing back onto your bed with a heavy sigh.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to settle against the pillows, everything in your body itching for something more. It had been a long time since you'd been this frustrated. Since the fall of the world, you convinced yourself that sex was something that was just no longer a possibility for you but Daryl brought something primal out in you. No matter how much you tried to fight it when you were around him it felt like your entire body was on fire and every time you closed your eyes you could see him. This was one of those times where it simply was not going to go away by itself and you knew that. If you couldn't get a fix of the real thing you'd just have to take matters into your own hands.

The feeling of your clothes against your skin was becoming suffocating as you reached for the hem of your shirt, slipping it over your head. You let your fingertips run over the curve of your breasts before you undid your bra and dropped it off the bed to join your shirt, leaving you naked from the waist up. You took your time, letting yourself enjoy the feeling as you trailed featherlight touches up your stomach, the anticipation building until you finally reached your chest.

You cupped your breasts, groping at them while the palms of your hands rolled over your hardening nipples. The feeling made you arch your back into your touch, a soft groan falling from your lips. You repeated the movement, slowly working your body up to what you really needed as you felt the heat building between your legs. You toyed with your nipples, tracing around them in tight circles before pinching just enough for it to hurt. It wasn't enough you needed more and you needed it now, your thighs rubbing together as you searched for any kind of friction.

You dropped one hand down, fumbling with the button and zipper on your shorts to get them open. You didn't bother taking them off, instead slipping your hand under the waistband of your panties, running your middle finger through your folds to feel just how wet you were already. You were completely losing yourself to your thoughts now, trying to imagine how different it would feel if it was Daryl's hand shoved down the front of your panties instead of your own, drawing circles around your clit as he teased you.

You teased around your clit, letting the feeling flood through your body as you imagined the feeling of Daryl's rough hands against you pulling all the pleasure he wanted from your body, letting out a whimper at the thought. You slipped your hand downwards, finally slowly sliding two fingers inside yourself.

"Ah shit- Daryl-" You couldn't hold back the moan of Daryl's name that fell from your lips at the movement, your fingers easily pushing deep inside of you with how wet you already were. Your back arched off the bed as you set a steady pace, thrusting your fingers in rhyme with the circles your thumb was now tracing around your clit, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. All you could think about was how much better Daryl's fingers would feel inside you, how much thicker they would be as they stretched you out. You could feel that tension building in the pit of your stomach, threatening to snap if you continued the way you were, losing yourself in your fantasy.

"Hey Y/N, heard ya callin' - shit I'm sorry didn't mean to - I um shoulda knocked." There was a second where you thought you were genuinely hearing things, so lost in the pleasure that you were actually starting to imagine Daryl's voice but the last rational part of yourself made your eyes snap open.

Daryl was standing by the entrance to your cell, frozen like a deer in headlights as he tried to figure out what exactly he was supposed to do in this situation, fumbling over any words he tried to get out of his mouth. He knew he should look away, give you your privacy and leave before this became even more awkward for either of you but his body was fighting him on it. He tried to leave but instead, his body stepped further into your cell, acting on instinct as he let the blanket fall back into place behind him. His eyes were trained on you, focused on the movement of your hand that hadn't stopped.

"Daryl I-" There was still a part of you that wanted to try and explain yourself to him but there was no explanation, no hiding what exactly you were doing. In the end, the other part of you won, the part of you that only had one thought on her mind. His name came out as more of a broken moan than you'd intended and you could see the hard-set look in his eyes at the sweet sound.

You couldn't help yourself, starting to thrust your fingers inside of yourself harder than before as you saw just how hard he was trying to hold himself back. You were testing his resolve, letting out gasps and pants as you waited to see how long it would take before he broke, finally giving in to what you both wanted. You'd come this far and you couldn't stop now. "Are you goin' to just stand there or are you goin' to help?"

Your words seemed to break Daryl out of his trance, finally answering his internal battle as his eyes snapped from your hand up to meet your gaze. You let out a broken moan, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as your fingers brushed over your g-spot, holding eye contact with him the entire time.

"Nah." His voice was gravelly, already laced with lust as the look in his eyes turned to something darker, as if something inside of him shifted, something that spelt trouble for you. He was no longer frozen in place, instead walking over to your desk to pull out the chair, angling it in a way that would let him see all of you before he dropped down into it. He nodded his head towards your hand buried in your shorts and you could see the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Nah I ain't helpin' ya. Ya started this, ya can finished it too. Looks like ya were doin' just fine without me."

"Fuck." You whined out realising what you'd just gotten yourself into. It only served to turn you on even more, the pool between your legs growing threatening to drip down your thighs as your thrusts picked up speed. It was driving you crazy to know Daryl was sitting only a few feet away watching you get yourself off to the thought of him. You should have felt embarrassed about being caught but you were too far beyond it. Your hips bucked up to meet your hand thrust for thrust, the feeling overwhelming you but still as good as it felt you needed more. You needed to feel Daryl. Needed his hand on you as he took over control and made you come in a way you never could make yourself. "I want you to touch me please."

"Yer lil' fantasy seemed to be servin' ya just fine before I walked in." He hummed leaning forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched every one of your movements closely. He dropped his hand to his lap, adjusting the growing buldge in his jeans as he shifted his legs apart. "Take off yer shorts. Panties too. Let me see ya."

You clung to his every word, wanting to give him everything he asked for in hopes that it would get you what you wanted. You pushed your clothes down your legs with your free hand, not wanting to stop the feeling coursing through your veins for a second. Once they reached your ankles you kicked them off to the side, spreading your legs further apart. It gave your fingers more room to reach deeper inside of you and Daryl now had the perfect view as they slid in and out of you.

Part of you was still convinced this wasn't real, just some kind of fever dream you'd completely yourself to. You had waited so long for him to finally make a move, to finally show you he felt the same way about you and now here he was. You knew you wouldn't fully believe it until he touched you, until you could feel his hands on your heated skin and it didn't seem like he was giving you that any time soon.

"Look at ya, all spread out, lettin' me watch ya fuck yerself. Such a pretty pussy when yer all stretched out on yer fingers like that. Bet I could stretch ya better, is that what ya want huh?" His voice was low, almost a growl as he shifted forward, moving even closer to you like he couldn't help himself. Like there was an invisible force between the two of you pulling him closer and closer. He was staying quiet, still in control enough to make sure his words couldn't be heard if someone happened to walk by outside but there was something about the way he whispered, his voice rumbling rough and low that send a spark up your spine. "Bet that's what ya want. For me to come over there and fuck yer pussy good. Are yer fingers not good enough anymore darlin'?"

"I want to feel you Daryl please." You pleaded, your voice sounding like a broken mess even to your own ears. Each gasp for air became a strangled moan or cry of his name as you drew closer to your orgasm. At this point you knew it wouldn't take much longer, you were starting to think you might be tipped over the edge by his words alone. Your hips rolled against your hand on each thrust as your back arched off the bed, your fingers hooking against your g-spot. You were racing towards your release, hoping that maybe once you got yourself off he would reward you and finally touch you, giving you everything you'd been dreaming of. "I'm gonna cum. I'm so close - I can't -"

"Stop." The seriousness in his voice caught you off guard as you let out a confused whimper. Why? Why would he make you stop now? You wanted to listen, to follow his instructions but you were too close to the edge, your body not letting you stop now no matter how much you wanted to behave for him. With every thrust of your fingers you could feel yourself drawing closer and closer to your orgasm until you could finally feel that tension starting to snap. You were seconds away from that release, from finally getting what you'd needed all day when Daryl surged forward, kicking the chair back as he grabbed at your wrist forcefully pulling your hand away. Pulling you away from your orgasm in the process. "What ya can't take orders now woman? I said stop."

""What Daryl - why?" You cried out, your brain too clouded to form any cohernt thoughts as your voice cracked so badly that for a moment you thought you might actually cry. You tried to struggle against Daryl's grip on your wrist, writhing on the mattress as you tried to find any pressure you could pressing your thighs together but he was completely in control now. In a second he had both of your wrists caught in one hand, pinning them above your head so quickly you barely caught the movement. His free hand holding your thighs open, denying you the release you needed so badly. You knew there was no point in fighting, you were no match for Daryl's strength. "No, I need it, please - please let me -"

"Nah I don't think so. If ya wanna use the thought of me to get off then I get to choose when it happens. I heard ya, just before I came in 'ere, moanin' my name. Thought that was the sweetest damn sound I eva heard but hearin' ya beg like that just might beat it. Sweetheart if ya wanna cum tonight, ya better beg me for it." Daryl's breath was hot against the shell of your ear as he leaned over you, whispering in your ear. His grip tightened on your wrists as he proved his point, his hand on your thigh trailing upwards just enough to ignite every nerve ending in your body in a way you'd never felt before. "Let's find out how well ya can do what yer told."

Without another word Daryl sunk to his knees next to your bed, finally releasing his grip on your wrists as his hand came down to grab at your other thigh, groping everywhere he could reach. He wrapped his arms around your thighs before pulling you to the edge of the bed until he could hook your legs over his shoulders, his head fitting perfectly between your thighs. He let out a low groan at the sight in front of him, your pussy already soaked, dripping down your thighs onto the sheets below you.

He couldn't help himself, not wasting a second longer before tasting you. He leaned in lapping his tongue over the apex of your thighs tasting the wetness that had gathered there while still avoiding where you needed him most. A rough groan sounded from his chest at the taste of you on his tongue as he finally dipped between your folds. Your body was already worked up, still hanging far too close to the edge to survive what you knew Daryl had planned for you. He was already eating you like a starved man and you knew he wasn't stopping until he was damn ready.

You buried your fingers in his hair, scratching your nails over his scalp as his tongue lapped over your clit making you gasp out at the feeling. Already you were starting to lose control of your body, squirming his his tongue as he brought one hand up to press down on your stomach to stop you from bucking your hips into his face. There was something about how easily he held you down, taking control of the situation that turned you on more than you thought was possible.

"Daryl I - I can't take much more -" Your words were breathy, fighting against the fog that threatened to take over your mind to even form the words in your mind in a way that made sense. Everything was becoming too much, every sense overwhelmed while your body still screamed for more, never having enough of Daryl. He grabbed at your thighs, spreading your legs further apart as they tried to close around his head while you pressed his head even closer to you. "Let me cum please - please I promise I'll do anything. It's too much."

"Ya can take more than this. I know ya can. Be a good girl and take it for me." Daryl's words rumbled against your skin, sending a wave of pleasure through you at the feeling. The praise and encouragement made you weak, whimpering out his name as your hands pulled at the hair at the nape of his neck. He licked his way back up to your clit before closing his lips around it, sucking roughly.

The sudden feeling had you crying out louder than you'd intended, pressing a hand over your mouth to try and muffle the sound, not wanting the entire prison to know what exactly the two of you were up to. Daryl released his grip on one of your thighs, reaching his hand up to grasp at your arm instead, pulling your hand away from your mouth as you whimpered. "Don't cover yer mouth. I wanna hear ya beggin' me for it. Let everyone hear how much ya fuckin' want it. Let 'em know who's makin' ya feel this good."

"Fuck I need it so bad Daryl please. Need you." You were rambling now, the words falling from your lips faster than you could even process, and louder than you would normally let yourself be. Daryl's words were all the permission you needed to let yourself be beyond worrying about who heard you. In fact you didn't care about anyone other than Daryl anymore, the thought of getting off was the only thing on your mind.

As a reward for your pleas, Daryl slowly slid two fingers inside of you, the feeling better than anything you could have ever imagined. You moaned out his name as he stretched you out around his fingers, they were thicker than yours, the feeling beyond anything you could give yourself. Your hips bucked off the bed into his face as he curled his fingertips into your g-spot but he was beyond caring. At this point he was willing to let you suffocate him with your thighs.

"Please - oh god - please let me cum. Daryl please." You threw your head back against the pillows as the smallest fraction of dignity that you'd been holding onto melted away under his tongue. If he wanted you to beg for it you were going to beg, scream and cry for it. You weren't sure if you were even forming words anymore, every moan a cry of his name more desperate than the last hoping it would be enough for him to finally give you the permission you needed. "I'll be good - I'll be so good if you just let me -"

"C'mon then sweetheart, let me hear ya cum for me. Show me how much ya need me." That was all it took. Your whole body tensed as you finally let go, Daryl's name a broken cry on your lips. You could have sworn you almost blacked out for a moment from the intensity of your orgasm washing over you, going light-headed from the force. Daryl's hands stroked soothingly over your legs while they shook, slowly moving his mouth away from you when he realised it was becoming too much for you, helping your ride out the last of your high. "Fuckin' hell that was the best damn sight I ever seen. Bet ya never coulda cum like that by yerself hm? Need the real thing to show ya just how well I can treat this pussy."

"Daryl I-" A breathy laugh was all you could manage as the afterglow seemed to take over every corner of your mind, stripping you of the ability to form any kind of coherent sentence. You closed your eyes, basking in the feeling as you tried to catch your breath that was still coming laboured after your orgasm. "Fuck."

"Yeah, darlin' I know." He hummed, gently running his fingertips up your thighs before slowly slipping them from his shoulders, lifting your legs back onto the bed to help you get more comfortable as you came down. You stretched out against the sheets, letting out a satisfied noise at the feeling of stretching out your already tired muscles.

You heard the soft thud as Daryl's boots hit the ground, the bed dipping where he lay down next to you. You rolled over, lying half on his side as you buried your face into his shoulder your arms finding their way around his waist. Your hands played with the soft material of his shirt and it was at that moment that you realised he had just given you one of the best orgasms of your life without even taking off a single piece of clothing.

"I want to see you, Daryl, please. All of you." You whispered moving your hands to tug at the front of his shirt, your fingers already starting to undo the buttons there. Daryl chuckled at the frustrated noise you made in the back of your throat as you struggled with the buttons, pulling away from you as he took over removing his clothes. He decided to simply lift the shirt over his head instead and you could feel your breath hitch in your throat when you saw his chest.

All that heavy lifting around the prison as well as his years of training and work with his crossbow had certainly paid off. He was more than just well-built, your eyes hovering on his broad shoulders as each of his muscles was defined with every small movement. His skin was marked with more than his fair share of scars, the raised skin running all across his chest and back but there was something beautiful about them to you. A story that told of every way he'd survived.

He threw his shirt to the side with your clothes and wasted no time before tugging off his belt, stepping back off the bed to make quick work of his zipper and button. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, your arousal building between your legs again as you watched him pull down his pants and boxers in one swift movement. his erection finally being freed from the constricting material.

"Ya wanna tell me what ya were thinkin' 'bout when ya were touchin' yerself? Yer dirty lil' fantasy 'bout me?" He asked in a teasing tone you rarely heard in his voice as he moved back onto the bed and settled between your legs. He planted one hand next to your head, balancing himself over you while his other hand wrapped around the base of his cock. He let out a low groan as he slowly pumped his hand along his length giving in to his need for any form of contact while he waited for your answer.

"Which one?" You said simply, trying to match his teasing attitude as you raised an eyebrow at him, watching his amused expression. After the position he'd caught you in there was no use hiding anything. You were past keeping secrets about your attraction towards him now. If he asked you to you'd tell him every detail of every thought you'd ever had about him. From the filthiest fantasies to the softest thoughts that even made you afraid of just how hard you might be falling. "The one just before you walked in where I was thinkin' about you with your hand down my pants and your fingers buried inside me? Or the one from earlier when I had to leave after watchin' you doin' all that heavy liftin' where I was imaginin' you takin' me from behind in the shower? Or maybe last week when all I could think about was you fuckin' me into the mattress until I couldn't breathe properly anymore?"

"Christ woman ya really have a filthy mind hidden behind that pretty face doncha? Is that what yer thinking' 'bout every time I catch ya starin'? Thinkin' 'bout me bendin' ya over the closest surface huh?"Daryl littered hot, open-mouthed kisses across the flushed skin of your neck as he started to tease the tip of his cock through your folds. You let out a gasp at the feeling, wrapping a leg around his waist in an attempt to get him as close as you could. The change of position made him hit your clit, sending a shock wave of pleasure through your already sensitive nerves. He was teasing you, never giving you quite what you wanted. "Is that what ya want? Want me to fuck ya until yer so out of it my cock's all ya can think 'bout?"

"Yes, Daryl, please. Make me all yours, please. Show me who I belong to." You all but whined out, the desperate, needy tone to your voice enough to finally make Daryl act. Without warning, he lined himself up with your entrance and thrust into you in one motion. You cried out at the sudden feeling, your hands flying up to grab at his shoulders as you arched against him.

He set a steady but cruel pace as he started to move, his hands gripping your waist with a force that you were sure would leave a mark in the shape of his fingertips in the morning. He leaned in and buried his face in the crook of your neck as he growled out at the feeling of you clenching around him. His hips snapped against you hard enough to make you cry out with every thrust in the best way possible. You were already strung out on the feeling, your body having barely recovered from your previous orgasm as he quickly worked you towards another.

"Fuck darlin' ya feel s'good. Swear this pretty pussy was made for me. Gonna fuck ya better than any fantasy could make ya feel. Gonna fill ya up and make ya mine." Daryl was becoming just as desperate as you and you could hear it in his words, his thrusts getting that much sharper with every hit. He grabbed at the backs of your thighs and pushed your legs up, letting each stroke hit deeper inside you at this new angle making you feel full in a way you'd never experienced before. Your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders, leaving a trail of raised marks in the wake of your nails as you dragged them down his back, panting out slurred cries of his name.

His cock dragged across your g-spot on every thrust now, the feeling spiralling you into a completely new level of pleasure than before. You'd never had an experience like this before, never had someone fuck you so deep while stretching you out like this. He was right about what he said before, the only thought left in your mind now was the feeling of his cock inside you. It was all you cared about. He moved his hand between your bodies, reaching to draw circles around your clit as he continued to pound into you.

"Daryl can - oh god - please can I -" You couldn't even get the words out anymore, completely giving into his touch and everything he wanted. You were entirely at his mercy now and nothing had ever turned you on like this before. You weren't in control of your body anymore, every inch of you belonging to him now and you couldn't bring yourself to care.

"Let go. Let it all go for me, sweetheart. Wanna feel ya cummin' 'round my dick, give me everything you've got." The encouragement from Daryl was all it took to finally make that tension building inside of you snap as he swiped over your clit again. Your back arched into his chest as one arm wrapped around his shoulders, your other hand grasping at the back of his neck. You were clinging to his whole body, trying to find any way to ground yourself in the moment as your eyes rolled back into your head.

The feeling of your body spasming around him, holding him so tightly mixed with the intoxicating sounds of your desperate moans in his ear was enough to make him follow you over the edge. His movements were growing sloppy as he pushed himself as deep into you as he could with one final thrust. He growled low in his throat as he dropped his head to your shoulder, finally giving into the feeling and coming inside of you. "Fuck darlin' ya feel so fuckin' good. Never felt s'good before. Ya did s'good for me. Such a good girl for me."

All you could manage was an exhausted sound of contentment as your hand absentmindedly combed through his now sweat-soaked hair. You couldn't find the energy to move much more than that, letting Daryl roll you both over so you were lying on top of his chest. You were completely exhausted now but you'd never left more alive than you did with Daryl. Every single second with him was worth the wait. You started to give into the feeling of his warm skin under you and the comforting feeling of his arms completely surrounding you, starting to drift off. You were too overstimulated to fight off the sleep your body so badly needed after that as your eyes fluttered shut.

"S'beautiful sweetheart. Get some rest." Daryl's sweet words were the last thing you heard before you gave in to your exhaustion, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your temple as he held you close.

#aoife writes fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fic #the walking dead smut #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n

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tare-anime · 2 years

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Yor's Cooking

So I've been discussing about why Yor's cooking is unconventional, and why she struggles with ‘home/domestic cooking’ with @rachellysebrook and @letthebodyfall

It’s because Yor is so used to ‘Survival Cooking’!!

We came up with this reasons:

(long post)

In this Yuri's ramblings at the cover of vol 5, amidst the cringey stuff, we can find interesting information:

I already explored several of my HCs regarding the Briar's hometown and past experiences in my fic, such as:

Nielsberg might be located at the south east part of Ostania, near mountain places (south east of Germany is indeed has more mountains, if we googled.) Eastern Nielsberg, the Briar’s house, might located at the sub rural, places where civilization were even more scarce. It was far from the war front places, but at the same time, food and other supplies might be also scarce.

Which was why, when the Briar siblings lost their parent, they choose to hunt for their food. With Yor’s inhuman strength that she already possessed, they did manage to catch animal to survive.

Maybe at one time, Yor also thought that the bigger animal equals to better nutrition XD leading her trying to fight a bear. Maybe....

Anyway, without the proper guidance from the adults at that time, we also hc that the Briar siblings learnt things by doing how to:

Prepare the animal carcass, including cooking the meat to the point of overcook in order to avoid germ/poisoning

Making survival tents during their hunting periods

Preserve foods, always tried to use every single part of the animal and not waste anything: scales, bones, fins, heads, etc.

They are so used to hunt for food, Yor is still confused at the convenience of being able to buy them at the groceries:

Making her buying everything available including: Ropes and threads (for making tents and fishing, or making traps), and cacti (several type of cacti is actually edible).

Other than ingredients, spices were most likely very scarce too! Which make Yor not accustomed to use them. Salt in particular, can be very difficult to obtain in mountains, especially in such a rural area during war.

So, all in all, Yor’s is so accustomed to Survival Cooking, that the most important thing she has to gain is the nutrition and not the ‘taste’.

That’s why Yuri said that her food has certain ‘full bodied aroma’ in it, and Yor herself thought that ‘as long as the nutrients are there, it’s enough’.

Btw, Loid can stand Yor’s cooking because he was a soldier himself. Soldiers, especially ones that stays at the front lines, are used to survival rations that well.... taste like sh*t, but of course they wouldn’t care. Because survival comes first.

Anya, Camilla, and Dominic aren’t soldiers, so it’s understandable that they have lower resistance ^^;

These reasons plus the idea that the Forgers has just been together for 3 months, of course Yor hasn’t been able to improve her home cooking just yet. But she’s getting there.

Cause unlike before, now she has family to feed as motivation (as seen in chp 24), and has good teacher (Loid and maybe Camilla to a certain point) that will teach her patiently.

One day, her cooking will improve.

#spy x family #yor forger #cooking #domestic chores #analysis #opinion #long post

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sameheart-sameblood · 2 years

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For the Good of the Realm

pairing: prince aemond x f!reader

summary: aemond reassures you of his love after you find out about his betrothal

words: 3.3k

warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, piv, fingering, angst, swearing, aemond probably being way more soft than is canon but hey im depressed let me do what i want

a/n: i've had zero motivation to write the last month but thankfully this little war criminal came along and lit a fire under me. ugh i just wanna hold his hand and maybe take him to therapy lol. also i'm being a bit revisionist and making it so he didn't kill a little kid right before the events of this fic.........

read on ao3!

Word of the betrothal spreads through the Red Keep slowly at first, then accelerates like green wildfire. Soon enough, the news seeps out of the walls of the castle and is whispered from ear to ear all throughout Westeros. You wouldn’t be surprised if the Free Cities on the distant shores of the Narrow Sea had heard it before you. Of course, in actuality you had learned of it well before most people but you should have been the first. You were owed that much.

The narrow staircase proves difficult to dart up. You lose your footing several times but ignore the scrapes and bruises that surely will need attending to. None of that matters now as you try desperately to get away from the one person you thought you could trust. Tears blur your sight, not helping your ascent. Slipping once more, you hike your skirt up and make a mad dash for the top of the steps, all the while the memories of your time in King’s Landing swirling through your head.

You had been fifteen years old when father had received a royal summons. He and your mother had gawped at the thick stationary signed with King Viserys’ emblem that fell at their feet, spirited to you by one of the Red Keep’s impressive ravens. The letter, it turned out, was not summons for one of your brothers to join court but for you instead.

Your house was small but proud, having served the Targaryens loyally through bloody wars and blessed peace. While no Baratheons or Lannisters, your family had proved faithful and the king felt that should be rewarded. It had been agreed that you would serve as a lady-in-waiting to the Princess Helaena, who was also around your age.

While an unexpected request, there was no question if you would go. Such an invitation was a great honor and as the daughter of an uncelebrated house, it was the best case scenario for you. If you stayed at your family’s lands there was little chance of marrying outside of your circle. However, with you being sent to court, you knew the silent hope on everyone’s mind was that you might catch the eye of some higher born lord. Over a decade had passed and indeed you had attracted the attention of someone of a much higher station than yours. Much too high for the likes of you.

He’s not far behind you, his pleads for you to stop and listen to him echoing off the stony steps. You daren’t turn and face him, knowing one glimpse of his face will only weaken your resolve. Nothing he can say will change things anyway. He’s engaged to a lady of proper status that would well suit a prince. Though it breaks your heart, you know there’s nothing to be done. You’ll pack your things and return home, tail between your legs. The thought of the disappointment from your family washes over you but you put your head down and trudge onwards. What is their disappointment when compared with your forever hardened heart.

Reaching the top of the stairs you run to your room, slamming the door behind you. Frantically, you pull out a traveling chest and begin stuffing all of your belongings into it. It’s haphazard and your mother will scold you to no end when she sees the state of your clothes but you just need to be on your way. The sooner you leave King’s Landing, the sooner you can purge yourself of all the memories that hold you there.

Hurried footsteps approach your door and you’re not surprised when it opens without so much as a knock. Aemond stands there for a moment, catching his breath. You pay him little mind, continuing your packing. His eyebrows knit together with worry when he realizes what you’re doing.

“Where are you going?” he asks tightly.

Letting out a pained laugh you answer. “It seems as if I’m no longer of use here. Do not worry, my prince. Soon you shall be rid of me.”

Aemond looks as if you had just started speaking Dothraki to him. “What do you mean ‘your use here’?”

Your anger overtakes you and you throw down the dress you were carelessly folding. “I mean I was nothing more than a pawn. I was a convenient way for you to learn the ways of women and how to please them. Now that you’ve had your fun with me and gleaned all you can you’re free to move on to a proper lady.”

Aemond looks at you with such heartbroken confusion that you bow your head, lest he see the tears brimming in your eyes. You push past the urge to comfort him. It is you who deserve comforting, you remind yourself.

“I have no desire to marry that Baratheon girl. When I went to speak with Lord Borros at Storm’s End yesterday the only term he would accept for pledging to House Targaryen was a marriage to unite the families. We’re already losing if we don’t have him on our side,” he says.

“That means you had a whole day to tell me. I had to hear it from your brother. He was more than happy to let me know.” You scowl, remembering the almost skip in Aegon’s step as he had whispered the news to you during dinner.

Your prince curses darkly under his breath. “Of course it was Aegon. That prick.”

Nodding you sit at your vanity and begin organizing your small collection of jewelry and trinkets. Aemond swallows down his anger at Aegon and kneels by your side. You refuse to look at him. He doesn’t touch you, worried that might spook you.

“I spent all of yesterday trying to think of a way out of it. I went to the small council, my grandfather the Hand, even my mother…” he stalls, not finishing the thought. It’s evident what he doesn’t have the courage to say.

Instead, you finish for him. “…but they told you that in order to ensure a Targaryen victory they need an alliance with Storm’s End. Which means you have no choice but to marry Lady Ellyn. For the good of the realm.”

“For the good of the realm,” Aemond parrots back bitterly.

There’s nothing to be done. Rationally, you know that. He is a prince with a duty to his kingdom. You were lucky to have him to yourself for as long as you did. In your heart, though, you know you will never love like this for a long time. Maybe never again for if this is what true heartbreak feels like then you would rather die than repeat it again.

The last piece of jewelry you find is a brilliant, blue sapphire necklace that Aemond had gifted you three namedays ago. “As blue as the Sea of Dorne,” he’d murmured to you as you had admired it. The Aemond who had gifted it to you then had fewer worries and bigger promises. You had laughed that it was indeed beautiful but you would have to take his word for it, you’d never seen the Sea of Dorne. At that, your prince had grabbed you by the hand and spirited you away on Vhagar, determined to show it to you right away. The ride on the dragon had not been exceptionally long, but once the deep blue waters came into view, it felt like you and Aemond had entered a world all your own.

Back in your chambers, though, reality has caught up with the both of you. Aemond watches you study the necklace, then rests his head against your arm. “Tell me that you want to run away with me and we’ll go right now, like we did all those years ago.”

You caress his hair for a moment, reveling in the realization that you could run away. With Vhagar to take you, no one would be able to follow. And if they did, Aemond and his dragon would make them understand that the two of you were free to do as you pleased. Real life once again makes your dreams crash down around you. Gently, you extricate yourself from Aemond’s embrace and put the last of your jewelry into the trunk.

He watches you as you close the lock with a resounding and final clunk. You turn to him, trying to look strong. “I would not ask that of you, my prince. I would not separate you from your family and leave them to despair and failure. They need your strength. We must accept that.”

For a moment, you think you’ve convinced him that you should do the responsible thing. But you should know better than anyone that Aemond never accepts defeat. His once soft and broken expression morphs into one of impassioned determination. He rises, striding to you before you realize what’s happening. Standing before you, he seems a giant, intimidating and alluring all at once.

“Tell me you no longer want me and I’ll marry that Baratheon bitch,” he says steadily.

You know you can’t. “Aemond…”

He continues, emboldened by your clear devotion to him still. “Tell me you no longer need me and I’ll walk out of here right now.”

Tears begin to course down your cheeks as you try to find the words. It’s useless, though, and Aemond knows it. He lowers his voice to a hushed, honeyed whisper.

“Tell me you no longer love me and you need never see my face again.”

Any resolve remaining in you dissipates and you close the gap between you, whispering his name pitifully before you bring your lips to his. At first it’s sweet and tentative, two lovers reminding each other of their affection. But at your first whimper, Aemond deepens the kiss, holding you close to him, your bodies molding together.

In an instant, he’s ripping you out of your dress. Aemond doesn’t wait for it to completely fall off, satisfied with your bodice no longer in the way of what he wants. He turns you around so suddenly, you gasp, trying not to lose your footing. You needn’t worry though, he catches you, pressing your back to his chest. Even through the skirt that still clings to your body and the leather of his pants, you can feel him hard as dragonscale.

The both of you revel in the feeling for a minute, you pushing back into him and Aemond kneading your hips comfortingly. The spell is broken by another of your pitiful moans as you seek more friction. Aemond chuckles, “Impatient as ever, my love.”

Knowing exactly what you want after years of exploring your body, Aemond brings his hands up to cup your breasts. Your head lolls back onto his shoulders as he massages them gently. His hands are calloused from years of sword fighting and it makes you shiver. Without even seeing him, you just know he’s smirking. Aemond removes one of his hands, squeezing your nipple before he abandons it. The sound of more tearing fabric reaches your ears as he pulls off your skirt.

You whine until you feel him slide his hand along your belly, giving you goose bumps. His hand cups your cunt, pulling you back into him again, his other hand still working at your breast. Aemond slips a finger through your folds, chuckling at how worked up you are. He takes pity on you and begins rubbing languid circles on your clit as he kisses softly down your neck. It’s definitely sacrilege to think but you’re sure this must surpass any of the seven heavens the septons preach about.

There’s one thing that could make this heaven even better. You put your hands on Aemond’s to signal him to stop and he turns you around, worry in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” His breathing is heavy and you smirk when you realize he’s just as excited as you are. You lay a hand on his cheek and he smiles, closing his eyes as he leans into it.

“I want to feel you, my dragon.”

Aemond begins to undress himself. “Please,” you whisper, “let me do it.” His breathing quickens even more as he nods. Fingers trembling, you undo the buckles of his shirt. Usually, time together is limited and Aemond would do this task himself to speed things along. Instinctively, he reaches to help you but you playfully shoo his hands away. He watches you with a fond smile as you get the hang of it. Buckles undone, you shimmy the shirt off of him and toss it aside. His chest bare, you can’t help running your hands over it, mapping the expanse of the scars that run across it. Aemond shudders and groans. You could do this all day but he’s getting restless. “Please, my love.”

Chuckling, you begin undoing his trousers. “Who’s the impatient one now?”

You bend down to help him step out of them. Once free of all of his clothes, he tries to get you to stand but you stare up at him with a smirk. He’s right there, hard and ready begging to be touched. Your hand closes around his cock and he moans. You mean to take him in your mouth but Aemond has other plans. “Not now. I’ve other plans for you tonight.”

He pulls you up and you yelp in surprise. “Aemond, wait.”

Tonight, you want him truly naked. “I want to see all of you, Aemond.” He knows exactly what you mean and after a moment, he nods. You reach up carefully and undo the patch that covers his missing eye. You’re greeted with a dazzling sapphire that matches the necklace he gifted you. If Aemond had his way, he wouldn’t wear the covering at all but he knows that without it the people of court deem him more of a monster than they already do. Part of him is still a scared little boy who wonders if maybe they’re right.

You hold his face as you reach up on tiptoes to tenderly kiss the scar across his eye that constantly reminds him of the loss. In return, Aemond kisses you hard and lustily. He pushes you back on the bed and you giggle as you bounce slightly. As you look up at him, he undoes the clasp holding his hair back and lets his silvery gold locks fall freely around his face.

Now he’s ready to take you.

Aemond lowers himself on the bed and crawls towards you. Intuitively, you open your legs for him and he rests between them, like a panther assessing his prey. He stares down at you, caressing your cheek. You’re sure you’ve never seen a more beautiful sight. You don’t have long to admire him though as he’s set in motion. Aemond kisses you fiercely, then grabs one of your knees, bending it up towards your chest to give him better access to your cunt. He presses a finger into you, stretching you as you whimper.

As he works you open, he takes one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks lazily. When your whimpers turn to moans, he adds a second finger. He curls them inside you, searching for the place that makes you see stars. It doesn’t take him long to find it. It never does. Aemond sits back up to focus on his task. As he presses on the spot, you prop yourself on your elbows and watch him at his work. He feels your gaze and stares right back at you, grinning. Your mouth falls open as he presses harder and faster. The noises you’re making are animalistic and it’s a wonder you haven’t woken up the whole castle.

Aemond brings his lips to your clit and sucks as he presses more insistently. The pleasure crashes over you and you come suddenly, wailing as you fall back down into the pillows. Normally, your lover would give you a moment to recover but deep down both of you know this might be your last night together. A second after your undoing, Aemond’s crawling over you and pressing his cock to your entrance. You grab his ass, trying to push him inside of you faster. He takes the hint and slips inside, both of you moaning in unison.

The prince pauses for a moment, closing his eyes and reveling in the feeling of being enveloped in you. You let him stay there a moment then tease him by squeezing your walls around his cock, bringing him back to the present. The smirk is wiped off your face and replaced with a satisfied sigh as he pushes into you over and over again. The overstimulation gives way to pleasure again and you know you won’t last much longer. But you want to hold out and wait for Aemond to finish with you.

Aemond’s lips come to yours as he continues to rut into you. Wrapping your legs around him, he speeds up and buries his face in your neck. You cradle him against you as you let the bliss you’re feeling push away all the thoughts of what’s to come tomorrow. Your prince hits a particularly sensitive spot in you and your nails scratch down his back as you come once more. Aemond follows after you shortly, groaning as he finishes inside of you.

You lay there for a moment, both of you sweaty and satisfied. Aemond moans happily as you run your fingers through his soft hair. After a few minutes, he rolls off you and pulls you into his chest. Thoughts of what you’ve been avoiding creep back into your mind and based on how quiet Aemond is, you know he’s thinking it too. You’ll be damned though if you’re the first one to break the reverie you’re in.

Aemond breaks the silence for you. “I want to marry you”

You gaze up at him and smile sadly. “I want the same. Though I don’t think the gods will allow it, my prince.”

“Gods be damned. Let me take you away from here. We can marry before my mother even knows we’re gone. She’ll have no choice but accept once she sees the truth of it.”

You think back on your history lesson from Maester Gerardys. “We’ll be like King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne?” It’s a folly and you say it as such but Aemond is invigorated by the thought.

“They married against the wishes of their mother. Why shouldn’t I? Everyone thought their union would throw the realm into chaos but it didn’t. Ours would be just as blessed.”

It pains you to be the one to bring the dream to an end but the kingdom hangs in the balance. “But what of Borros Baratheon?”

Aemond sneers, “That illiterate bastard can find another to marry his daughter. If he breaks his oath and runs back to Rhaenyra then Vhagar and I shall pay him a visit he shan’t soon forget.”

You want to argue more, beg Aemond to see reason. But the hour grows late and your body craves sleep. You snuggle up to him and close your eyes. Aemond takes your silence for an agreement.

“We’ll fly away tomorrow. Wherever we land we’ll find a septon to wed us.”

You hum a sleepy “Of course, Aemond.”

The prince looks down at you and smiles sadly. He’s not stupid. You’re only placating him but doesn’t matter. His plan is a dream but it’s something to hold on to until tomorrow brings about the stark reality of your situation.

But those are troubles that sleep will wave away. Aemond blows out the candle and brings the blanket up to cover your shoulders. Soon sleep descends on him and his eyes get heavy. Before he’s completely overtaken he murmurs to you in High Valyrian.

“Avy jorrāelan”

He doesn’t expect a response but breaks into a sluggish grin as you whisper back.

“I love you too, Aemond.”

******

#how am i supposed to wait til 2024 for more of my baby #prince aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #allie writes

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potol0ver · 6 months

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Ask; Hello, I read you have your request open, and I really like how you write about Erik. So, if you feel in the mood, I like some scenario (GN or AFAB) in which y/n starts to work ato Opera House like an skilled effect artist and one night, when y/n finally has some time free and alone, Erik found her playing something like ROxxanne tango with the cello, because she play it but only for herself.

Tags; Fluff, GN reader (you and yours),

A/N; Hey, I’ve been silent for a while and I’m sorry for that. I wasn’t motivated to post any fics and was in writers block. Now I need to focus on my health because a serious health concern has come up for me, so I apologize for continuing to be radio silent. I’m a little out of it while I’m writing this so I’m sorry, Please injoy this fic, it will most likely be the last for a while. (You may continue sending asks just be warned I might not be able to get to it for a couple of reasons.)

With a heavy sigh you put aside your art peice, a stage mask that just wasn’t holding up to your standards. You’ve painted over your dried paint and wiped it off to many times to count already. Your hands had become shaky long ago as you sit at your desk that was in an obscure corner of the Opera house.

You push your chair back that gave a screech and sluggishly walked back to your small room in the Opera house. Thankfully it looks like none of your roommates are in the room which means you can properly relax and wind down. Most importantly in your mind, it means you can practice your cello without disturbing anyone.

Quickly you set up your space, adjusting your chair, setting up your music stand, making sure your bow has enough rosin. Flipping to your favorite cello peice you take a breath and start playing. Letting your fingers and how move on the strings fluently, you we’re getting entranced by your cello. Unknown to you, you weren’t the only one being entranced.

Somewhere deep in the Opera house, the Phantom can hear your playing faintly thanks to the echoing of the monumental walls. Intrigued, Erik quietly yet softly made his way to you until he could hear you clearly. Leaning against a wall he let his eyes shut and get wrapping up in your music, loving where you crescendoed and adding your own flare.

When you got to the end of the piece and pause your playing to find another to play, he finally peeked a look at you. He thought you would’ve been apart if the orchestra, but he didn’t recognize you, it also looked your your cello while well kept, was quite old to. Erik became very fascinated by you now, he started by “testing” you. Slipping new and harder pieces for you to try, and if you did play them he’d be happily surprised with how well you make the notes come to life.

Next, after you passed his “test”, he worked hard to see if he can find you a proper newer cello. Only the best for his new found talent, that day by day he was slowly falling for. The more he became infatuated with you he got more determined to find a cello to match your one of a kind soul.

After a while he did find a very good cello, a one of a kind, just for you. So, Erik made quick work to insure it’s yours. He personally polished and cleaned it, making sure no scratches were on the instrument. While you were working hard at your props job for the play, he made diligent work to set up the present in your new room. That of course was also a present from him. How could he let his musical muse share a room with a bunch of strangers?

Leaning the cello against the bedside table he placed a rose and a note next to it. Despite watching you for so long and being so devoted to you, he never got to the courage to say anything to you. Hopefully the grand presents will be a good first impression.

Groggily you walk back to your room, only to be told you don’t sleep there any more. Which after the long day you had of making props wasn’t good for your anxiety. As you followed the directions to your new room, you think about how you could’ve gotten on the bad side of someone to get an even more run down place to sleep in than what you have already had.

All of those thoughts quickly got washed away when you opened the door to your new room. It had everything you needed to live alone, a small kitchen/living room, a nice bedroom with a decent sized closet, even a space to practice your cello. You were so stunned at what you did to deserve this new room that you didn’t question how everything you own was already there.

Quickly, your eyes caught the sight of the luxurious cello next to your new bed. Gently you caressed it, looking over all of the fine details, it looked like a masterpiece that was specifically catered to you. The red rose next to the cello caught your eye next, along with the letter that had a skull stamp.

Carefully opening the letter you scanned the words, a mixture of your emotions sitting in your stomach as you read.

“My dear, I have heard you playing for a while now, and I must say the way you make the notes come to life is hauntingly stunning. You have caught my interest in the best way.

I know you haven’t seen me or heard me before, which is why I hope your new room and house warming gifts are a good first impression. If you wish, I can also arrange a seat for you in the opera’s orchestra so you don’t have to continue working in the messy arts department.

P.S. If it’s not to much to ask, I would like to hear back from you, so please consider us to be pen pals now. Also, if you ever need a quiet place to practice you can always come to my lair to whine down, maybe that way we can play music together.

~Yours devotedly O.G.”

A single thought ran through your mind as a mixture of unease and swooning butterflies ran through you…

What have you gotten yourself into?

#erik destler #erik poto #phantom of the opera #erik destler x reader #erik x reader #phantom x reader #phantom Drabble #phantom of the opera x reader

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cambion-companion · 7 months

Note

Hi! I really loved your Raphael writing, so i got a lovely fic idea. Raphael x reader (platonic). Raphael discovered that reader is another cambion, even more surprising his daughter he had no idea existed. Have a good night/day😼

Hello, my dear! Thank you very much for the fic idea :) You're forcing me to exercise my self restraint I see. I will tweak this just a lil if you're wanting a reader who is Raph's daughter, she would be a Tiefling technically ;)

Let's see how he reacts.

OH and yes this about THAT Tiefling girl you see at the brothel in Act III.

little drabble ahead...

The Sharess' Caress.

A lovely den where the lonely and desperate wandered so willingly into Raphael's capable hands.

He considered himself more magnanimous than most devils, certainly better dressed.

His smile carefully shaped to exact the exact reaction from his potential clients, luring them into a false sense of security.

"Sign your name here, my friend." He said, making sure his voice held no sign of overbearance or eagerness.

The name was scrawled, a new deal was struck. Raphael was satisfied, bowing the latest of many gullible mortals out the door of his den.

He leaned against the doorframe, watching them go, smiling still; though this time he allowed a sinister edge to creep into his carefully crafted brown human eyes.

His ever-keen gaze drifted along the carpeted hallway, drawn to the movement of a gray-skinned Tiefling as she walked toward him, unaware of his presence.

As always, Raphael flicked his eyes over the creature, taking in every aspect of her that showed on the surface. Any sign of a weakness or vice he could potentially exploit.

Her orange eyes were fixed on the ground, a frown upon darkly painted lips.

She bore the obvious traits of a Tiefling descended from Mephistopheles. Interesting. Irony twisted Raphael's mouth in a wry grin as he considered just how she might be related to him.

Her horns gave him pause. Raphael's eyes narrowed. Regal horns, ridged and curving. A set of four, two smaller beneath the much larger pair. An exact mirror of his own.

"A moment." Raphael stepped out into the hallway, not directly blocking the girl's path, but garnering her immediate attention.

She halted, several paces away. Her tail swishing to and fro, a sign she may flee. "Yes?" Her voice wary. She had a modicum of intelligence at least.

Raphael didn't say anything for a moment, trying to gain a sense of how distant a relation to him this Tiefling was. "I noticed your beleaguered expression." He spoke, trying to ease her nerves. His voice just the right amount of soothing, as he'd practiced to perfection. "Perhaps I may be of assistance."

The Tiefling gave him a bemused look, pulling her chin in slightly. Raphael watched her closely, there was something about her that cried out in its familiarity.

Surely, she was not his direct descendent. Granddaughter or even daughter perhaps?

Yet if she was...what a delightful opportunity that would be.

"I don't think you'd offer me anything I haven't tried myself." She finally spoke, a lilting cadence that betrayed caution yet intrigue. "I doubt you could do what I cannot."

He almost laughed. "I assure you, there is very little I cannot do given the proper motivation." Raphael tilted his head and held out a hand, gesturing an invitation to the curious creature. "Come, if you're so self-assured what harm would you suffer from a little chat?"

Her amber eyes focused on his face for a moment, she seemed drawn to him as well. Curious.

With a twitch of her tail, the Tiefling shrugged and stepped with an air of self-confidence and a whiff of challenge into his den. Only Raphael's eyes moved as he watched her move.

Yes, perhaps she was closely related to him after all. He couldn't begin to name all the mistresses he'd taken to his bed over the centuries, it certainly was a possibility not to be readily dismissed.

And if she was his daughter...he would have her allegiance and her soul. Yet another faithful ally to bring more souls and more power to his Infernal doorstep.

#raphael bg3 #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael x reader #character study #cambion #bg3 drabble #he's most likely a dad let's be honest #but he is absolutely a daddy

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jorvikzelda · 4 months

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That’s a wrap on jorvikpov.

It’s been more than two years of planning, plotting, writing, and editing, and now, it’s finally over. The last jorvikpov is posted, and I have no plans to ever revisit it. I feel like it’s been enough of an undertaking and gotten enough appreciation that it deserves a proper sendoff post.

Mostly, I want to give a huge, huge thank you to anyone who’s ever read, enjoyed, talked to me about, or in any way interacted with jorvikpov. The support and love you guys have given jorvikpov all along the way means so much to me and I’m happy and grateful beyond words that my passion project became so beloved. A special thanks goes out to everyone who’s ever reblogged a post with something nice in the tags; seeing people get emotional over my writing or speculate about where I’m going with something is an incredibly special experience that I consider myself incredibly lucky to have had. A belated thank you, as well, to whoever nominated and voted for me in the SSOBlr Awards way back when. Even just the nomination means so much to me, and winning was probably the greatest honour my writing's had bestowed upon it.

An even more special thank you (so special, in fact, that it deserves its own paragraph) goes out to Manda/@shiroselia for beta reading the last nineteen jorvikpovs and thus making them the best they could’ve possibly been, for giving me the motivation to stick to a regular posting schedule but also for telling me violently yet lovingly that it’s okay and necessary to dial it the fuck back when keeping up the schedule would’ve pushed me past my limit, and most of all for being my friend, because that’s beyond a shadow of a doubt the best thing asking you to beta jorvikpov led to. I would not be where I am today without you—I owe a lot of the good things in my life over the past couple months to you, including the fact that I finished jorvikpov and am writing this post right now. (You're welcome for the over 100 words long sentence; I had to do it to you one last time, for old times' sake.)

While I’m happy to have finished the fic after all this time, I have to be honest and say I’m more than a little emotional about it ending. In a way, it feels like parting ways with a friend. Jorvikpov has been a constant in my life since November 2021, and it’s carried me through some of my roughest spots and changed me in ways I never expected—not to mention how attached I’ve gotten to the jorvikpov MC and their journey over time. It’s no surprise that it leaves behind an empty space. Still, it’s time to let go. Jorvikpov has done as much for me as it ever could. I'll never be more ready to move on.

I might go quiet on fic writing for a little while now, but I have a lot of plans and ideas that I can't wait to get to work on once I've got the time and energy for them. I'll see you all in the future, whatever it may bring.

#future fics will be posted on this blog #jorvikpov is remaining untouched #z talks #jorvikpov

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chaotictarlos · 1 year

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You took the best of my heart and left the rest in pieces

ship: Tarlos | fandom: 911 Lone Star | author: chaotictarlos| read on ao3

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Angst, Carlos Reyes needs a hug, canon divergence, before season 3 and during, feelings of being unwanted, self-doubt, Grace is Carlos’ bestie, break-up sex, anal sex, m x m smut, mlm, canon whump, ex-lovers, lots of feelings, canon whump, tk strand whump, internalized homophobia

Word Count: 23,520

Summary: An exploration of emotions.

To Cassi @ronensass who is my angst bestie and lets me send her songs (and send songs in return) and random thoughts about tarlos - I’m sorry that this took so long to get out.

To Ali @sapphire11 who became one of the biggest supporters of this fic as I wrote it. Thank you for all the encouragement and love that you gave me.

To Giggles @detective-giggles who is just a fantastic person and always listened to my ideas and lets me scream in her inbox about so many different things and sends me the best plot bunnies.

To Noxy @noxsoulmate who always listens to my spirals and allows me to scream about different things and ideas and who always helps me put my ideas into the proper order.

To @lightningboltreader who was so encouraging and allowed me to scream with them about this fic and was always excited when I posted something about it.

To @thebumblecee @mooshkat and @cowlos-reyes has listened to me complain and stress over this fic many times.

To everyone in the TWP discord who has been encouraging and so kind.

Thank you to everyone who's sent an ask about this, who has taken the time to send motivation, and have been excited for this fic to come out.

Author's Note: Title from In the Stars by Benson Boone. Cassi sent me this song and I’ve been listening to it a lot on my drives I thought of this idea so here it is. Remember this is slightly canon divergent so not everything might line up with canon but I did the best I could to make it mostly canon. Though it did, at times, take on a mind of its own. This fic means a lot to me. I spent 6 months writing it and it grew to be this epic -what I think - a masterpiece and I have a few others planned to go on with this fic. I hope you guys enjoy it. I would love to know your thoughts so please drop your thoughts in a comment, send me a DM, or an ask. I'm so nervous to post this dnsndj I hope you all enjoy it and take time to read it. I know it's long.

I am writing a TK POV and a sequel where it explores them getting back together. I hope to have those out soon.

I have also made a Spotify playlist for this fic! Take a listen as you read!

----

Oh, it hurts so hard

For a million different reasons

You took the best of my heart

And left the rest in pieces

- In the Stars by Benson Boone

Past Sundays would have found Carlos awake early and in the kitchen, making breakfast for him and TK because it was their favorite day. After TK got hurt again, they had made a promise to each other that they would always set aside one day of the week that would be their day. A day that they would set aside for time with each other, a day where their attention would only be on each other and they would ignore - within reason - outside forces. It took a lot of begging, graveling with their captains, and promises of picking up an extra shift if needed, but they were both able to get Sundays off so they could enjoy the act of just being together. It was important to both of them that they had one day to stop and enjoy each other’s company and remember that they were important to each other - not that that fact was often forgotten.

Carlos would always start with making a pot of coffee and let the smell of it fill the townhouse. It was a dark roast that both he and TK were fond of. It always made Carlos chuckle to make it because he knew that TK was going to load it down with sugar and cream, ruining the taste of it in Carlos’ opinion, but he was still fond of how TK did it; he had given up on trying to convince TK to get one of the sweeter coffees so that he could add fewer things to it. Carlos would make himself a cup and enjoy the morning paper before he would start breakfast.

Sunday had become pancake day for breakfast. It hadn’t always been that way when they started setting the day aside for each other, and Carlos couldn’t remember what had prompted them to decide that they were going to have pancakes each Sunday, but it was enjoyable. Carlos liked to challenge himself and each week he would come up with different ways to make the pancakes so that they wouldn’t grow tired of it.

Eventually, the smell of coffee and pancakes drifting through the townhouse would wake TK and he would wander into the kitchen, most often blanket still wrapped around his shoulders. TK would mutter a good morning, sometimes complaining that morning came too fast, and Carlos would wordlessly hand him a mug of coffee and kiss his temple. He would urge his sleepy boyfriend to go back to bed and tell him he would bring breakfast to bed when it was down.

After a few more kisses were exchanged, Carlos would watch TK shuffle back to bed with a soft smile on his face. He would finish breakfast, make two plates, and put them on a tray to carry up and into the bedroom. It was always a 50 / 50 chance whether TK would be awake and drinking his coffee, or asleep with his cup sitting on the nightstand beside him. If he was sleeping, it was never tough to rouse him again and convince him to wake up for breakfast - and more kisses, of course.

They would eat and laugh together and then later, with their dishes cast aside, they would enjoy each other in bed before taking an after-breakfast nap and then spend most of the morning cuddled in each other's arms. The afternoons were always reserved for going to the Reyes’ for Sunday dinner.

It was always a time when they could just be together and enjoy being in love. Even when the townhouse burned down and they had to move in with Owen for a while, they still found ways to make their Sundays special to them. They might have looked different, but they were still filled with love and taking time to be together. It was the one little bit of normalcy they had when everything went up in flames.

But all that was before.

READ ON AO3

tags: @strangefurychaos @ronensass @sapphire11 @first-kanaphan @angeltk @noxsoulmate @beautifulhigh @welcometololaland @rangergurlgleek1211 @detective-giggles @tarlos-spain @lonestardust @bubblesandroses8 @thebumblecee @mooshkat @importantbailiffpaperpony @tarlos-spain @ramblingdisaster73

#chaotic fics #tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #tarlos fanfiction #carlos pov breakup fic #breakup era fic #tarlos breakup era #season 3 #911 lone star #911 ls #911 lone star fan fiction #tk x carlos #carlos x tk #3 x 04 #push

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redsixwing · 4 months

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worst blorboficiation in dark souls, if there even is any

OH THERE IS.

Nonny, I hope you wanted an essay. I chose violence in long form.

With the caveat that I've played 1 and 2, not 3: the worst blorbofication award is a tie. I'd put it between Solaire and Reah of Thorolund. She's less well known, so let's look there first.

It's understandable: Reah is a genuinely tragic figure. The fair maiden in a bad, bad place, left all alone by her companions and in need of your help to get free!

I've seen one too many fandom portrayals stop right there and never consider what she's doing, why she's doing it, or the part where she is the leader and motivator of that little expedition into the Catacombs.

She wants the Rite of Kindling, the secret behind feeding humanity into the bonfires to strengthen them. She does not get.

She does retain humanity, possibly by stealing it from her companions to save herself. Her order, the Way of White, seems to have a pattern of preying on its own in attempt to reach that secret rite.

(As, in fact, one of her own might prey on Reah herself once you free her.)

I like her piety. I think she's a fun character, even.

But I can't read her as an innocent little lamb to the slaughter. That there is a competent ranking cleric - if she rarely deigns to dirty her hands in combat, it isn't because she's harmless.

And that leads us to Solaire.

Once again, the blorbofication makes some sense. He really IS a ray of sunshine, first and last in an unrelenting grey place. Every time you summon him, he uses his signature arms-up salute before hustling off to knock heads, and his skill really is remarkable. (Not just informed by his gear description- he's legitimately a tough summon.)

He's a great soul in every sense of that phrase. Led to the Flame, he will succeed at his quest. And pray he makes a gentler sun than the last!

But he is not particularly sane, our beloved Solaire. He wants nothing, nothing, more than to find his very own sun. At the very first meeting, he wants to stay behind and gaze at the sun - the sun that's invisible behind clouds, and thus maybe not burning his eyes.

Maybe.

I got his bad ending on my first playthrough, much to my dismay, but it informed how I read him.

He's got a horrible glowing parasite glommed onto his head. He proclaims himself to be his own sun and attacks everyone who might get close enough to take it from him.

Including you, his friend, who might even have feelings for him.

But I really don't think it's a sudden turn. The sunlight bug made it so much worse, yes - but he is, from the beginning, just seeking the proper fire to throw himself into.

That gets lost a lot with sweet, sweet cinnamon roll Solaire.

I am genuinely tempted to write fic about it, but it's gotta wait for me to finish something else. :)

#asked and answered #thanks for the ask!#solaire of astora #reah of thorolund #dark souls #i wont get started on quelaag or gwyndolin

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wordsbymae · 1 year

Text

MINORS DNI

Pairing: Alwyn (Male OC) x female!reader

Summary: Alwyn helps reader overcome her disgust of a very natural part of her.

TW: Female reader, insecure thoughts, chubby!reader, midsized!reader, she's got boobs, reader herself doesn't act insecure but she would be described as insecure yes. discussion of body hair and the outlaw is a bit vulgar (he likes something to grab). Illusion to the times Alwyn hid under the reader's bed while she was getting changed (she does not know this) (EDIT: Turns out I completely forgot to add that in, I was planning on it and then completely forgot). also not very historically accurate cause medieval people would not give a shit about body hair (they were just trying to survive the winter) but for the sake of the plot, they did (socially).

NSFW: swear words, no real smut in this one, implied smut. I have yet to make a proper part two to my first Alwyn fic, but this one is still very early in their relationship.

If I have forgotten anything let me know!

Notes: I literally had a mini emotional breakdown over this very topic today and this is my therapy. Not a lot of people are gonna be able to relate and I'm okay with that. this is purely for me :) Also please please please use your own discretion for this one, I would hate for my writing to reinforce insecurities in anyone or bring up bad thoughts about themselves. So once again please please please use discretion. No one is forcing you to read this.

I haven't written Alwyn for a while so his dialogue might not seem right

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was still a bit of getting used to Alwyn. The idea that someone truly romantically cared for you, it was a lot to take in. You were often overwhelmed by his kisses or his declarations of love. But you were getting better. You no longer rejected his compliments, no longer held back your own affection in fear he would find it annoying, and no longer questioned his motives when he placed sweet kisses on your cheek. But there were some old habits you struggled to let go of, in fear of Alwyn, sweet, lovely, albeit lustful Alwyn, finding you in some way or another grotesque.

It took so much effort for you to believe him, or at least not refuse the compliments when he called you angelic or radiant, that he saw you as something beautiful and graceful, everything you've longed to be your whole life. So it terrified you that one day he might see you the way you saw yourself, the way you looked through your own eyes, not blinded by Alwyn's lust or foolish love. The only way to do that was to hide the offending parts, hide the pieces of you that refused to be tamed. It was easy to do before him. No one else expected to see your body in its fullness, so while it hurt for your family to make snide remarks about your silhouette, at least you could hide the most offending piece of all.

It was hard to do that with Alwyn. He was not a man to take things in halves or quarters. he wanted it all. He wanted to see and touch you without limitations, and that was something you refused to do. It was easy to do the first time you laid with him, he was too hungry for you to bother battling your objections to him trying to get you out of your dress but become harder as the days rolled by. He was no longer happy to fight against your many layers of fabric and petticoat, yet he allowed you the comfort, the safety of their protection, at least for a few short days after. But he was getting frustrated, impatient even. But you knew if he got his wish, if he really saw all of you, you knew that he would no longer see you as a delicate thing but a monstrous creature.

But Alwyn was not a man to take things in halves.

It began like it always did with Alwyn, his wandering hands inching up your skirts, gripping, grabbing, pinching. He had you on his desk, one foot barely touching the ground, as he pushed his way in between your thighs. His kisses were not sweet, but hungry and desperate, leaving trails of heat up your neck to your cheeks, before diving into your lips. His hands suddenly left your skin and made their way to your skirts, lifting them up higher and higher as your heartbeat increased rapidly.

"wait" you gasped, hands leaving the nape of his neck to his hands, pushing them back down to your knees. It was bad enough that he didn't feel smooth skin when he touched your thighs, that he had to battle rough bristles, but he seemed to be tolerant of it, not shying away from the spikes growing from your legs, but you knew he wouldn't tolerate anything more.

"what is it my love?" he questioned, panting as he nudged your cheek with his nose, lips leaving soft kisses on your cheek. You wanted to fuck him, but on your terms, hiding away all the worst parts of you.

You quickly lifted yourself off the desk and turned around, placing his hands on your plush hips, hidden by the fabric.

"take me from behind, Alwyn, please, I, ah, I want you to be rough"

If your voice wasn't so hesitant and you very clearly hiding something, Alwyn would have jumped at the chance to fuck you rough, to grip your hips tightly as he rutted into your tight cunt. But he could tell something was wrong. He removed his hands from you and took a step back.

"no, no I won't"

"Why?" you questioned still bent over the desk, turning your head over your shoulder, your eyes betraying your fear. Had he finally had enough? Did he finally realise you weren't enough?

"Come on sweetheart, something is tormenting my princess and I'm not gonna ignore that for all the sex in the world" he smiled, hand reaching for yours, softly holding it as he lead you from his planning room into your shared bedroom.

"sit your pretty butt on the bed and tell your man what's goin' on," he said as he plopped himself on the side of the bed and patted the place beside him. You slowly made your way to his side. Alwyn leaned his arms on his legs and turned his head to you.

"you gonna tell me what's goin' on in your pretty head or do I have to get a lady friend so you can talk lady things," he asked seriously. a smile betrayed your torment at his genuine care. You slightly shook your head and began picking at your nails in your lap.

"I would rather not talk to anybody" you whispered, giving him a painful smile.

a moment passed between you two and you hoped he would leave, get bored at trying to understand you like everyone always has and leave you to your misery.

"Why are you trying to hide your body from me sweetheart" he softly asked, still looking at you from his hunched-over position,

It was a very simple question yet enough to tear down something in you, you were no longer able to ignore the wall of doubt and insecurity hiding you from him. He saw straight through it. Tears fell from your eyes like rain and you reached a hand up to try and stem the fall.

"How did you know I was hiding it?" you sobbed, for the first time in your life someone noticed. He took an extra second, an extra thought to see your thinly veiled pain. no one else ever seemed to notice your behaviour, never seemed to notice hiding under the extra fabric, taking less food than usual, or not joining your sisters and cousins in the river. Or maybe they just didn't care enough to say anything.

But he did, he noticed and he cared.

"I pride myself on being a very observant man princess. It wasn't hard to see, you kinda suck at distractions" he sadly laughed, you could tell it was forced for your benefit but it gave you a chance to laugh through your pain.

"sweetheart" he started, hesitating, for once thinking of what to say before he said it, "you know I find you absolutely gorgeous, and I never want you to think that your shape or siz-"

"This isn't about my body, it's about what taints it" you seethed, directing your disgust on yourself, turning your head back to watch as you punished your fingers with your hate. A hand, his hand, reached for yours, stopping your assault.

"scars?" he asked, a thumb soothing the pain you inflicted on your skin.

"no" you whispered, your other hand gripping his tight. Alwyn didn't say anything, just comforted you in his presence. Your tears were slow now.

"I don't know what to say" you gasped, face grimacing, what could you say? No matter what you said, you knew that your days of being seen by Alwyn as beautiful and angelic were passed. "I don't know how to tell you" you whimpered, eyes finding his.

"then show me"

"no" you answered quickly, "no..anything but"

"sweetheart" he began

"I'm scared" you interrupted.

"of what?" he quested, eyes crinkling in confusion.

"that..that you'll see me differently, see me as I truly am, as a disgusting thing" you spat out the last two words, it was easy to call yourself that, you already have for so long.

Alwyn opened his mouth to deny it.

"wait, please just wait, let me say what I need to say." you rushed, pausing to swallow. "you'll say that it won't change anything, you'll promise you'll still love me, still want me. but you won't. I will no longer be beautiful to you, I'll no longer be delicate, or radiant but I'll be monstrous, grotesque, and I, I can't lose you" by the end your tears were once again released, trailing down your cheeks.

"Sweetheart, please just tell me what it is" he urged, kissing your cheek with a slight force, his free hand cupping your other cheek

"it's my hair" you whispered

"Pardon?" he asked, slowly removing his hands to turn his whole body to you. You gave a slight nod.

"princess your hair looks fine to me" he laughed, one hand playing with a curl

"no, thats not, uh" you grunted, pushing his hands away, standing up and turning away from him. "it's not my head hair, it's my um, it's my body hair" you explained turning back towards him. He still looked very confused before erupting in laughter. God, how you hated this man.

"Sweetheart, my goodness, I'm sorry but body hair? that's what's got you all teary and shit?" he laughed, rubbing his face with his hands. You on the other hand stood still. Of course, it was stupid, you were a fool for thinking he would understand. Your mouth falls into a frown and soft tears swelled. Alwyn continued to chuckle until he saw your pained face.

"oh princess, I'm sorry, really, fuck I'm such dickhead, clearly this is something that troubles you and here I am laug- fuck sweetheart don't cry, please? come here" he rushed, standing up to hold you in his arms

"Princess, it's not something to be disgusted in, everyone has it, women too" he comforted, rubbing your back as you dug your face into his chest.

"I know, but I'm different" you whimpered, you were well aware that your body hair was incredibly difficult to tame, growing rapidly and often growing darker and courser if you tried to rid it. You could manage legs, barely, but when you turned 14 and hair began growing on your stomach? or when your mother kept telling you to tame the hair growing dark on the back of your thighs? you tried, really, but it only made it worse, making a small patch of hair growing from your belly button down into dark hairs that seemed eager to spread across your belly and chest if you tried to tame it further. And your thighs? gone one day straight back the next. so it just was easier to leave it, no one would notice, it wasn't like you had suitors desperate to touch you while you were bare. until Alwyn.

"I'm worse" you whispered, looking up from his chest into his eyes. "You'll see it and run. I know it"

"Ah, sweetheart you really thinking something like that would scare me? I think I'm braver than that"

"It scares me" you painfully smiled, tears still rolling down

"Well good thing I'm brave enough for the both of us" he smiled, kissing you softly

"your beauty will never ever scare me" he whispered, leaving you to let out a sob.

"but what if it does?" you whimpered

"never"

#yandere fantasy #yandere drabble #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere #oc alwyn #alwyn #male yandere x reader #male yandere #female reader #yandere x female reader #chubby!reader #insecure!reader #tw insecurity

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effen-draws · 1 year

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HUGEEEEE fan of your de!swap fic! Just finished reading chapter 5 and WOW what a chapter. I'm soooo glad to see that suzerainty popped up, the original scene with that game is my favorite scene, and I'm overjoyed to see that it carried over to your fic!!

Curious question, what was your motivation behind choosing what skills Kim has? I love all the skills you created for the fic, and I'd like to know your thought process behind it

Thank you so much!!! I’m super glad that you liked the chapter! The Suzerainty scene was hella fun to write:-D And I’m very happy that you like the skills as well!

But, yes, the skills. Oh man, anon, the skills. You have opened up a can of worms here. You’ve given me an opportunity to rant here, anon. So I really hope you’re ready for a long post because I have plenty of thoughts, my friend.

But before we actually get into any of my skill related thought processes and ideas I’d like to preface this post with 2 things!

Many of the skills (and generally the early parts of the fic) are inspired by a hodgepodge of many different people’s headcanons and art here on tumblr! Which, because I’m one of god’s favourite clowns with a terrible short term memory, I have no idea what came from where! I looked at and read a lot of the things that later inspired me before I ever thought of writing the fic at all. And I never thought about writing any of my sources of inspiration down before I had already finished the draft of chapter 1! Which I kinda feel terrible about! The readers with a better memory than I might remember that I wrote in the first chapter that if anyone saw anything that looked familiar they should tell me so I could give proper credit. (Which I still implore any keen eyed reader to do!) So yeah, this is just to say; I’m not a genius who came up with all of this on my own and I was inspired by many cool people so don’t give me too much credit!

BUT! If anyone ever wants to write or draw anything using the skillset I’ve made for my version of swap!Kim, then you are so very welcome! So don’t sweat it if you want to reuse a name, concept, or the entire set! I’d just be happy to have inspired you:-]

Anyways sorry for the preamble. I just needed to get that said before I go down my rabbit hole:-)

So, let’s get to it! (For real this time I promise, anon) Here are a few of my general thoughts about my Kim skillset and some individual insight into more of the “interesting” skills!

There were a few things I considered when making the skills. For one I needed to figure out what skills were needed because of narrative necessity and what were needed for characterisation. For an example HANDS ON is almost only a “Kim is physically interacting with his surroundings and I need to describe that” skill while TORQUE DORK, on the other hand, is a fluff skill that’s there because of Kim’s interests in machinery. Besides their personalities the skills also need to serve a role in telling a story, y’know? Whether that be description or character. That’s also one of the reasons that Kim only has 16 skills instead of Harry’s 24. A fic is a different medium than a game so it’s not necessary to have quite so many skills. But, if you want my non-boring justification for that, I also just think that Kim is far less scattered brained than Harry! The man is simply more together even when he’s falling apart so he therefore has a few more “multi purpose skills”:-]

Speaking about Harry, I felt like it would be important that Kim’s skills felt unique to him even if some of them started out as reskins of Harry’s (I mean, how do you make a skill responsible for logic without giving it similarities to Harry’s LOGIC skill??). Not that they needed to stand out completely but rather I didn’t want to feel like I was applying Harry’s voices to Kim’s head. Which also means that Kim’s skills just can’t do the same things that Harry’s can! For one they aren’t as psychically inclined even if they can take guesses and read people in similar ways (which they’re partially that good at because of narrative necessity, but hey man, don’t look at me I’m just trying to tell a good story here!)

One thing which I also really wanted to stress with the skills too is that many of them have “rivalries” or “alliances” with one another. Some of them are complete opposites (EYES vs. OUTSIDER) while others will almost always back each other up (POISE & COMMAND). This animosity is there because; one, Kim is constantly trying to keep himself in check and is very harsh on himself so therefore no skill can ever “win” for long. Two; I’m a BIG fan of the thought of “Kim’s centrism is killing him”. So therefore every skill is almost always pulling him in different directions and opposing each other while Kim is trying to thread the needle of just existing. And because there’s this constant infighting Kim’s mind becomes a very hostile place to be. One last general consideration before I get into some individual skills! I really love how having a high level skill in DE also has its downsides! They have blindspots! They have one track thoughts and motivations! And it’s dangerous to only listen to one of them! So I attempted to show that with Kim’s high level skills like VOLTA DO MAR and POISE in the fic:-]

Anyways: individual skill thoughts! I don’t have something to say about all of them but I'll quickly go through my thoughts on some of the more interesting ones in order. (Also I’m so sorry for rambling so long, anon. Here's the part of the post I think you're interested in.)

Starting off with PUZZLEBOX and NOTEKEEPER! If I’m honest I think these two are inseparable; Note provides information and Puz connects the dots. They’re quite obviously Kim’s deductive and note taking powerhouses. Note does however also have a purpose as a narrative device since it’s the one that recalls past information (that Kim can remember). They’re a little like a narrator in that sense. Anyways I don’t have many thoughts about these two but I think they’re kinda cute in how “dumb” they can be despite being intellect skills:-]

FANTASME is not a skill that gets a lot of the limelight but they do have a good amount to say even though they’re a low level skill. They’re kind of a CONCEPTUALISATION and INLAND EMPIRE mix I guess. They’re focused on Kim’s “nerd” things (that isn’t machinery or paperwork) and escapism. They know about art but they don’t really “get it” as Harry can. They’re also the driving force behind Kim’s existential dread as you have seen in chapter 4.

BLEEDING HEART is what I labelled as the “feelings” skill, and they were kind of an EMPATHY clone in the early concepts before I really figured them out. Because all they really want for Kim is for him to feel. Their second priority is making sure that Kim feels for the people around him as well. To Bleed it doesn’t really matter what emotions Kim is feeling as long as they are being felt and that he isn’t hurting or “burdening” anyone. They’re sad, suppressed, and visceral. Another thing about them is that similarly to how ESPRIT DE CORPS is the “gateway skill” that Harry uses to read Kim, BLEEDING HEART is the “gateway skill” Kim uses to read Harry in the fic. This is mostly because I don’t think Harry can be understood through the lens of the RCM like Kim can in the game.

EYES is interesting to me. Because they aren’t the RCM but rather swap!Kim’s understanding of the RCM personified. Which both means they’re brutally honest about how the police sucks but that they also cannot let go of duty and loyalty for the life of them. They are aptly named after Eyes; Kim’s last main connection to the RCM and its office culture. Which is very cool but also not my original idea! And because of the reasons mentioned prior I really don’t remember who came up with that stroke of genius but I would honestly like to thank them personally. (If I ever get my hands on the post I saw it in I’ll link it here)

I love the idea of OUTSIDER. Kim having a skill that’s specifically manifested because of how alienated he feels is so interesting to me! That how much the world has failed him is ingrained in him just speaks volumes, y’know. Outs don’t have too much of a narrative purpose compared to other skills but I do love them regardless. They aren’t completely my original idea either, but unlike EYES, I have no idea where I got this one from. (Again, if I find the source I’ll put in a link, but for now my cursed memory can produce nothing.)

JOIE DE VIVRE is the most fun little guy in Kim’s mind to me. They are what makes life fun (as their name suggests) and they ultimately represent indulgence. They are essentially good to listen to occasionally but not constantly. Because Joie is all about base desires which they want fulfilled now. “Hey! Smoke that cigarette now! Hey! Fuck that guy now! Hey! Avoid your responsibilities now!” And if they don’t get that they will immediately trash talk whoever shut them down. And, to say the least, they are constantly being repressed by the other skills. Kim can’t get rid of them but, oh man, does he wish he could.

VOLTA DO MAR is my swap!Kim’s signature skill. And it shows: they are used to being in control. They are all about keeping Kim going and they generally serve a similar role like VOLITION does in terms of keeping Kim sane. But they are really nothing like VOLITION. They’re mean. They’re efficient. They’re a completionist and simultaneously a survivor. They will shut down anything they deem unnecessary while also dealing with any odd situation which Kim simply needs to roll with. Volt ultimately thinks they know best and is thusly kind of a dick.

NERVE is a kind of “physical skill all in one” with the added on flavour of repressed anger. NERVE’s name then, of course, both comes from the biological nerve and because of the “that struck a nerve” saying. They just want Kim to follow his gut and retaliate for once. They’re the physicality of anger and instinct. Which has pros and cons…

POISE is an interesting little fella to me. They’re kind of like a teen who’s obsessed with being cool and keeping up face and facade in my eyes:-) And since they’re also such a high level skill they get to talk a lot, and with their focus being reputation a large part of that talk is about how embarrassed Kim should be. They’re a personification of self consciousness and intrusive anxiety riddled thoughts and yet they’re also one of Kim’s most useful skills, both in regards to reading others and not being read himself. They’re sort of a necessary evil in that sense.

Oh man. That was a ramble. And I didn’t even talk about every skill. Well, I’m all tuckered out now but thank you so much for the ask, anon! I kinda took it as an excuse to just talk for once so I hope that alright:-]

I don’t know how many people (if any) will find this interesting so, to the people who got this far, I’ll tell you my swap!Kim’s 5 highest level skills as a token of my appreciation for reading:-) Number one is of course VOLTA DO MAR, followed by POISE, BLEEDING HEART, NOTEKEEPER, and then lastly COMMAND. Extra fun fact; EYES and OUTSIDER are always the exact same level and this makes them furious.

Anyways, thank you again for reading my fic and this long ass answer to an otherwise simple ask! I hope you have a great rest of your day:-]

#Long post #I don’t tag that lightly #this is like 2k words #but...#I think I deserved the rant #related to the rewind refind fic #anon ask #fic ask #disco elysium swap au #de swap au #de meta #kind of

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thedrarrylibrarian · 1 year

Text

I was so excited to invite @caroll-in for our March Happy Hour! I did it as a little treat for myself - I've loved and been a fan of her art for such a long time (I love the bold lines, bright smiles, and the way she does hair. My favorite part is how she draws people who look like they're having a good time with each other! Partners look happy together.) I've been so excited to see what recommendation she'd come up with. She did such a lovely job, and even was able to find a rec that I hadn't read yet! I fell in love with her recommendation and I think you will too! Without making you wait any longer - here is the lovely @caroll-in!

I can't even describe the joy I felt upon receiving an invitation from @thedrarrylibrarian to be the guest of the March Happy Hour! It's an honour to be able to contribute a rec to this fantastic blog!

I'm gonna take this opportunity and rec a fic I’ve always wanted to do a proper post about as it's one of my all-time favorite long fics in the drarry fandom. Written for the @hd-fan-fair fest of 2021, it was the very first fic by Romaine that I have ever read and, most importantly, Romaine's comeback to the fandom after an almost decade-long break. And what an epic comeback it was!

This Ain't the Garden of Eden by @romaine2424 (131,466 words, rated E)

In 2020, Hit Wizard Harry is starting to enjoy his life. He’s divorced, and no longer Head Auror. His biggest project these days is trying to remodel 12 Grimmauld Place for him and the kids.

Draco Malfoy is recovering from his wife’s death. But is happy with his Ministry position as Temporary Head of the Department of Intoxicating Substances, and with his son who he adores.

This all changes quickly when Minister Shacklebolt decides not to run for another term. The assumption is that 'all is well' in the British Magical world, and that Hermione Granger-Weasley will easily be voted in as the next Minister for Magic. However, Draco knows better. He knows she has a strong competitor who is wooing those who live in Knockturn. And if he wins, the Ministry, and all that has been accomplished the previous twenty odd years, will be destroyed.

"This Ain't the Garden of Eden'' is a brilliant political fic following Harry's campaign to become the Minister for Magic. What I feel is the most important thing to point out here are his motivations to become a candidate in the first place. This Harry is one we all know and love but since he's in his forties, he's also more mature and has had a chance to figure himself out throughout the years. Even though he very much still enjoys the thrill and action (which he has plenty of, working as a Hit Wizard when we first meet him in the story) he also still cares and is ready to step up and help however he can—this time without being manipulated. Everything he does is done through his own decisions. I love how well Romaine executed that part because after people pulling the strings behind his back for half his life, it's really heartwarming to see Harry still wanting to save the Wizarding World, on his own terms. He won't take the risk of losing everything he and his friends worked for after the War—especially when he realizes how much still can and should be improved. His main political opponent (I hope it won't be too much of a spoiler to say this) is based on Trump and brilliantly so, making the reader root all the more for Harry's success. And for those of you worried it might be too much politics for your taste, please note the "case fic" and "action/adventure" tags on the story which very much *deliver*.

Romaine takes the well-known canon world and expands it, making it so full of details and innovative magical theory (which I bet y'all are fans of as much as I am!) and introduces us to many new magical places, not only in the UK. It might not be a fic about Wizarding Houses and Grimmauld Place per se, but I promise you—those of you who enjoy this trope won't be disappointed either as the fic features a stellar subplot catering to it. We also get a new take on the Knockturn community and their culture and meet many new brilliantly-written original characters who I couldn't help but fall in love with (and I am sure you will too!). Of course, I also have a lot of love for Romaine's characterisations of the characters we know from canon—from Ron, Hermione and the Potters' kids to Scorpius and Narcissa. And Kingsley Shacklebolt, who very much deserves his own shoutout here—I can honestly say it's my very favourite take on him and I'm not being dramatic, he *is* fantastic in this story and I can't wait for you guys to meet him!

And finally: DRARRY. I deliberately saved the most important aspect of this fic for last and I hope I didn't give you the impression this story isn't about them! The main plot circles around the elections and is super captivating on its own, but it's Harry and Draco's relationship we're all here for and the way Romaine wrote them is honestly perfect! As I already mentioned, they're in their forties and, therefore, more experienced and more mature, willing to calmly take a look at the other to see and appreciate how much they changed throughout the years. Thanks to that we can skip the drama unnecessary for this story and have them form a fantastic partnership—both for the cause and as lovers. The pace of their relationship is so well-written and we get to see it develop as the story progresses. Don't think, however, that it's all smooth and easy—their trademark jealousy and banter are very much present to spice things up a bit! Romaine was generous to give both Harry and Draco many quirks and habits that the reader gets to discover along with them but I don't want to spoil your fun by listing them here—you need to trust me, you're in for a treat! One more thing, because it actually might be my favourite: remember the classic fanfic trope of a character recognizing the scent of their love interest's hair? Romaine's take on it is simply stellar and takes it to a brand new level. Everything from their first kiss (!!!!!!), through the smut scenes, to the moment they're finally ready to confess their love is a pleasure to read and I envy those of you who will get to read it for the first time!

And if, after finishing this fic, you won't be quite ready to leave the universe Romaine created just yet, I have great news for you: for the 25 Days of Draco and Harry 2021, she wrote "25 Additional Scenes for This Ain't the Garden of Eden" which features extra scenes from the main story (also a huge rec!).

Once again, many many thanks to @thedrarrylibrarian for having me here and for giving me an opportunity to give some extra love to one of my fave drarry stories! <3

Thank you again @caroll-in for taking the time to join us and write this wonderful recommendation!

❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

Lots of Love and Happy Friday!

#caroll-in #caroll in #friends of the library #guest happy hour #happy hour #friday happy #the drarry library happy hour #lots of love and happy friday #friday happy hour #harry potter #draco malfoy #harry x draco #draco x harry #harry potter x draco malfoy #draco malfoy x harry potter #harry/draco #draco/harry #harry potter/draco malfoy #draco malfoy/harry potter

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ssa-montgomery · 1 year

Text

we're slaves to any semblance of touch

Part 2

Word Count: 8891

Summary: Y/N and Daryl have been pining after each other for weeks and when Maggie finally urges Y/N to make her move, she and Daryl end up alone for the first time. Daryl is more than happy to help Y/N lose her virginity.

Characters: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader, Maggie Rhee

Warnings: Swearing, mutual pining, loss of virginity, smut, oral sex, blow jobs, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, slight innocence kink, unprotected sex

A/N: This fic was requested here on Tumblr by @azanoni using my prompt list and I had so much fun working on this one! I'm a sucker for prison-era Daryl so I knew the prison had to be the setting for this one and I just loved this request! Please feel free to send me any requests you might have for Daryl fics :)

Prompt(s): "Show me how you like to be touched." "Is this your first time?" "I don't know what to do." "Let me teach you."

Feedback is what motivates me to work so please let me know what you think! Reblogs are also greatly appreciated.

Taglist is open!

Masterlist

By now you were really starting to question what exactly you'd done for the Georgian sun to this level of a personal grievance against you. You used the bottom of your top to twist the cap off your second water bottle of the hour, your hands too soaked with sweat to get a proper grip on it. It had finally reached that point in the middle of summer when everything was unbearable, even the metal railing of the watch tower was burning against your skin as you leaned forward on it. You thought maybe on the ground below it wouldn't be half as bad but you and Maggie and the unfortunate luck of drawing the first watch duty today. You stuck to the walkway surrounding the tower, trying as much as possible to avoid the tiny concrete sauna that was the watch tower's main room. Even out there it didn't seem to help with the humidity in the air.

Though you did have to admit, even if the heat was choking you there was always one positive to taking the watch shift - the view. The view from the tower covered most of the prison and for miles into the forest that surrounded it beyond the fence, giving you the perfect view of everyone going about their own jobs below you.

Carol, ever the worrying mother figure to the group was making her rounds with water and food, making sure to get drinks to the people that would otherwise forget and collapse of dehydration in this heat. Further across the prison, you could see Rick tending to the fields that had been established for a more steady source of food with Carl doing his best to help. Beth sat near them, Judith playing in her lap as she watched her dad and brother work with a curious expression. As you scanned across the prison finally, your eyes fell on him.

Daryl as per usual was tucked away in his own corner of the prison, hiding away from the chatter and noise of everyone else. He was on his knees, shifting to sit back on his heels as he examined something on the old motorbike in front of him. One of the old prison toolboxes sat next to him as he searched around inside the now open side of the engine. Even from here, you could see the black streaks of greasy motor oil coating his fingers as he work them over the mechanics of the inside of the engine, holding one of the tools in his teeth while both of his hands were busy.

You couldn't pull your eyes away from the way he worked with his hands, the sweat shining on his skin where it clung to his arms and the back of his neck. There was something about the way his muscles moved under his skin while he loosened the parts with the wrench that made your skin flush with heat in an entirely different way to the harsh rays of the sun, your cheeks now burning warmer than before.

"You're starin'." The sing-song tone of Maggie's teasing voice rang out as she leaned in over your shoulder to follow your line of sight. You spun around, ripping your eyes away from Daryl no matter how much you wished you could keep watching, practically falling over yourself as you did. The rifle over your shoulder clattered against the railing as you finally steadied yourself only to be met with Maggie's grin.

Maggie was one of your closest friends at the prison and your days on duty together like this often turned into gossip sessions for the pair of you. She was the one person you told everything to, including when you'd started to develop a crush on the tracker she'd just caught you trying to undress with your eyes.

"I'm not starin', I'm just- admirin' from a distance." Your weak excuse of a defence crumbled under one knowing look from Maggie as she tilted her head to one side, raising an eyebrow at you. Okay so maybe you were staring, maybe you did stare at him at any chance you got. Maybe you did stare at just how skilled his hands were working with his crossbow, easily manipulating it in his hands while he cleaned it or the rare, soft, loving look he got on his face whenever he was around Judith. It didn't matter to you, as long as you were looking at him in some way nothing mattered to you. It was like everything else fell away around you. "Well, maybe I'm starin' a little."

"So you still ain't found the nerve to talk to him 'bout your feelings yet then?" Maggie asked looking at you curiously as she leaned against the wall opposite you. You could see the way she kept the perimeter of the prison in her line of sight at all times, even while you talked.

"Who says I haven't?" You brought your hand up over your heart, a fake offended gasp falling from your lips as you laughed at how obvious it was that you were still very much hiding your crush.

"You mean besides the quite frankly sad puppy dog pining?" You could always rely on Maggie to call you out on your bullshit when you needed her to. You scoffed at her blunt way of phrasing it as she laughed at you but she was right, you knew that. The pining truly had reached a whole new level. "I mean come on, everyone can see it. And with someone as observant as Daryl? He's an idiot if he hasn't already figured out your feelings for him."

At this point, you were certain Daryl already knew about your feelings for him. What was going on between the two of you was - complicated, to say the least. Maybe even more complicated than you'd let on to Maggie. You were confident it wasn't one-sided, Daryl having nearly straight out told you as much when you joked about the possibility of you having a crush on him. You could feel his eyes on you around the prison almost as much as you stared at him but things at the prison had been chaotic. Trying to establish a new community here had its own challenges and adding a relationship to the mix would have just complicated things for both of you.

Now though, things were starting to settle, day-to-day life becoming smoother and maybe it was finally time to see if your gut feeling that Daryl wanted this just as much as you was right.

"I just - I'm nervous is all. You know I don't have much experience in certain areas Maggie, or well any experience and I don't know how to bring that up with him. It's not a conversation I've had to have with someone I really care about before." You sighed, shifting your hands nervously as you thought about it. You were willing to admit that your thoughts about Daryl more often than not turned inappropriate and you wanted nothing more than to act on them with him. Unfortunately, your experience with anything in that area stopped at a sad excuse for a messy make-out session with an asshole of an ex-boyfriend in your teen years. You didn't want to scare Daryl off if he thought your lack of practice would ruin the experience.

"I've seen the way he looks at you Y/N, given the chance that man would fall to his knees and worship the very ground you walk on. He ain't gonna care about your experience level as long as you're learnin' with him." Maggie said then, her tone serious as she gave you a reassuring look, her hand resting on your arm. Maybe she was right, you'd waited so long now that maybe it was time to stop worrying and just do something about your feelings.

"I guess the thing now is finding the time to talk to him alone with how busy we've all been lately." In the past few weeks, everyone's focus had been on turning the prison into a livable space for the group which had proved to be a challenge. When you weren't helping to clear the cell blocks you were on watch and on the rare few times you did have a day to yourself Daryl was away on runs. The most one-on-one time you'd managed to have with Daryl was during watch duty like this.

"Now correct me if I'm wrong but, he seems pretty alone down there right now." Maggie seemingly caught the nervous look on your face as you looked down at him again, torn between wanting to run straight to him and your duty to your job. Who knew when you might get another chance like this. "Just go for it, don't worry 'bout keepin' watch. I'll call Glenn, and tell Rick we wanted the time alone if he asks 'bout it. Don't waste any more time thinkin' 'bout it."

"Thank you, Maggie, I really do appreciate this." You felt more excited than you had in a very long time as the possibilities ran through your mind. You gave Maggie a bright smile as you pulled her into a quick, tight hug before rushing to disappear down the ladder of the watch tower. You weren't going to wait for a second more.

~~~

"Whatcha doin' out here?" You asked peeking over Daryl's shoulder at the engine as you walked up behind him, your shadow towering over him as for once you were the one standing taller in your exchange. His eyes snapped up to you standing over him where he still knelt on the ground, dropping the wrench he'd been holding between his teeth. You could see the surprise on his face at your sudden presence behind him, not expecting to see you all day when he knew you were on watch duty. You let out a slight giggle at his reaction, not used to seeing him actually surprised. "Just me didn't mean to spook you."

"Nah. Ya didn't spook me." He said with an almost embarrassed shake of his head, his hair falling into his face to hide his piercing eyes. Your hand twitched at your side as you fought back the urge to reach out and brush his hair back out of his face. "Just ain't expecting anyone out 'ere is all. Pretty sure I burned out the brake pads on the last run. See that? Ain't supposed to be like that."

You dropped your rifle down next to Daryl's crossbow and took a seat on the ground next to him, the concrete warming the skin of your legs. You leaned in as close as you could, your shoulders touching as your gaze followed his finger to where he was pointing at some exposed part of the bike. You let out a hum and nodded your head as he leaned in and started to work on pulling the piece loose. You pretended you knew what was happening just to continue watching him work with his hands, seeing each delicate touch this close up when in reality none of his bike talk made any sense to you.

"Gonna have to take her apart and replace the belt most likely." Daryl sighed, wiping his hands on his already filthy jeans as he sat back, propping one arm up on his knee. His arm brushed against yours as he moved and you sucked in a harsh breath at the contact. "A project for another day. Ain't gonna be able to do it without some scavenged parts so I gotta wait till the next run now."

There was a beat of silence as you both enjoyed the company. Daryl sat down fully on the ground, resting on his elbows as he stretched out, his legs spanning out in front of him until he was practically lying down. You watched the way his head tipped back, his eyes closing as he took in the heat of the sun on his face. His body was already covered in a thin layer of sweat, his hair sticking to the nape of his neck while his hands were coated in motor oil practically up to the wrists.

There was something about him like this, messy and so involved in something he was passionate about that made him so attractive to you. Even when you had no idea what he was talking about you could listen to him talk all day, that deep southern accent commanding every ounce of your attention. It was rare for him to hold a conversation he was truly interested in so you savoured every single one.

"Have you been out here all day? Why don't we head inside for a bit? It would do us both some good to get out of the sun for a while and wash up before you end up with heatstroke." You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as you realised what you'd just said, the suggestion slipping out before you could even think. Part of you was still nervous you'd the read whole situation wrong as you waited for an answer, Daryl watching you curiously. What if he really wasn't interested in you like this and you scared him off for good?

"Sure, yeah. Good idea." He nodded much to your relief and pushed himself up from the ground, rolling out his neck muscles that had grown stiff from being bent over the engine all morning he did. The movement gave you the perfect view of his muscles tensing all the way down to his shoulders and back, your eyes following them until he turned around to face you again. You tried to look away but it was too late, Daryl catching you staring directly at you. You could have sworn you saw the slight tug of a smirk at the corner of his mouth as he reached a hand out to you, grabbing your wrist to pull you up from the ground. He glanced down at your wrist and winced at the ring of oil he'd left on your skin where his fingers had been wrapped around you. "Shit sorry. Guess I really should get washed up."

"Don't worry 'bout it." You reassured him, your fingers absentmindedly tracing where he touched you. In reality, it felt like the oil would burst into flames at any second with how your skin burned from even the simplest of touches for him. It really was time to admit you were down bad for this man. "C'mon then."

There was a look of confusion on Daryl's face as he watched you grab your gun and walk away from the entrance to the central cell block that everyone used as living quarters. Your nerves were growing, almost stripping you of your confidence as you tried to figure out a way to explain your choice without entirely clueing Daryl into your plan.

"On a hot day like this everyone's gonna want to wash up, the queues for the washroom in there are gonna be long, the other cell block is still mostly unused and the water system works just as well." You shrugged as casually as you could, gesturing towards the other building.

There was a flash in Daryl's eyes as you turned away from him, your hips swaying more than usual as you made your way towards the door. It was as if he realised your plan at the mention of an empty building to yourselves on the one day you skipped out on your work to give you the time alone you needed. He didn't say anything, instead nodding at you as he grabbed his crossbow and moved to catch up to you.

You could feel your heart beating against your ribs almost hard enough to break free as you walked, Daryl's low strides quickly catching him until his steps fell in time with yours. Neither of you said anything as you walked, both of your minds racing with the idea of what could possibly happen when you were finally alone together.

You were the first to push open the door to the cell block to find you were right, it was entirely empty, your footsteps echoing off the high ceiling. Unlike the other cell block, this one had only recently been cleared for use and people who were already settled in the other building hadn't bothered to move their stuff out there yet leaving the two of you completely alone.

"See? Told you we could skip the lines." You laughed, hoping your playful tone masked the nerves bubbling just below the surface. Your plan was more spur of the moment and as a result, was far from well thought out. Sure you finally had Daryl alone but you had no idea how to go about outright asking him for what you wanted or how to get him to make the first move on you.

"Clever girl." His eyes seemed to trace a path down your body as he spoke, no longer trying to hide the way he let his gaze linger on certain parts of your body a little longer. The sound of the praise coming from him had that blush threatening to creep back up on your cheeks. Something in the air had changed, it was no longer heavy with humidity but instead with a tension between you that could have been sliced with a knife.

You slipped your gun back off your shoulder and left it on the table in the main entrance hall along with the belt holster you'd become so fond of and it was shortly followed by the sound of Daryl's crossbow clattering down next to them. You turned to head down the hall towards the washroom, genuinely looking forward to cleaning the heat of the day off your skin even if this was all part of your plan. You had expected Daryl to wait in the hall until you were done so he could take his turn but instead to your surprise, he followed you down the hall and into the washroom.

There wasn't a word exchanged between the two of you as you cleaned yourselves up, a tension filling the air that you both seemed unwilling to break just yet. You slowly cleaned the oil from your wrist, the action more of a second thought as your focus stayed on the mirror in front of you. In its reflection, you could see Daryl running his hands under the water, carefully rubbing away the oil on his skin. He dipped his head down and splashed his face with the running water, washing away the oil he'd managed to smear over his brow. You copied his movements, the cold water admittedly feeling amazing against your face.

The final part of your plan clicked in your mind at that moment, this was your chance if you were ever going to get one. If you were being honest the front of your tank top was admittedly filthy. Your morning started with helping Carol collect the ingredients for breakfast from the fields in the front of the prison and the dirt was still caked into the material of your top. In a split-second decision, you were sliding the top off over your head before you could back out, leaving you standing in only your grey sports bra.

Your hands practically shook as you dipped the top under the running water and tried to rub away the dirt. You weren't sure that Daryl was even looking, his back still towards you as you took one final look in the mirror before turning your attention to cleaning your top. You thought you might actually forget how to breathe if you let yourself think about what you were doing too much but it didn't take long to get your answer.

Daryl's fingertips were still cold from the water as they met your back, the feeling a strong contrast against your warm skin. He was standing directly behind you now, his movements nervous, as if he was still afraid of reading the situation wrong but he was playing into exactly what you wanted. His fingers traced a path down your spine, starting at the bottom of your neck and coming to a stop just above the waistband of your shorts.

"Is this alrigh'?" He asked, his voice rough and uneven, already becoming laced with lust but needing your reassurance before he went any further. He needed to hear you say this was what you wanted. You turned around to face him, his hands falling to the rim of the sink as he trapped you between it and his chest. Your breathing was becoming laboured already, your cheeks turning red with the heat that was now burning through your veins. At that moment you had never been more certain of anything in your life.

"Daryl, I didn't invite you out to the only empty building around for no reason." You laughed, the sound light and sweet to his ears as you basked in the feeling of this finally happening. Sure you'd know for a while this wasn't one-sided but to have Daryl confirm it felt surreal, part of you thought you were dreaming this entire thing. You reached out a hand and let it gently rest on his chest right over his heart, feeling it beat against your palm as it picked up speed. This wasn't a dream, this was very real. "I've been thinking about this for a long time. I want this."

That was all the invitation Daryl needed as he brought one hand up to cover yours, lacing your fingers together as he leaned in, his lips finally, finally meeting yours. The kiss was softer than you'd expected, slower. His lips moved carefully over yours as he took his time, learning how your body melted against his, the way you moved as your lips started to match his movements. It had been a long time since you'd kissed anyone and you were admittedly out of practice but there was something about Daryl, about the way his hands fit so perfectly around your waist that calmed your nerves and made everything flow more naturally.

"You were really plannin' this the whole time?" Daryl smirked against your lips, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. You squirmed under his stare, feeling overwhelmed by just how much power he had over you already. "You didn't give a damn 'bout my bike, did ya?"

"Daryl you are so incredibly sweet when you talk about what you're passionate about. I could listen to you all day." You sighed finally giving into the urge and reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes as you smiled sweetly at him. "But I have no fucking clue what you're talking about when it comes to that bike."

Daryl let out a laugh at that, a genuine, loud laugh that you'd never heard from him before. The sound made your heart skip a beat, it was like music to your ears, your smile lighting up your whole face as you watched him. There was something about seeing him like this, the side of him that no one else got to see, the side that was for you and you only that made you curious about what else he had to show you. That needy feeling was starting to take over again as you took both his hands in yours and slowly started to walk towards the washroom door, leading him behind you.

"You think these cells are still as intact as ours?" You asked, your voice still managing to hold that hint of innocence despite the intentions that question so obviously held. Daryl happily followed you out into the main cell block before taking the lead, pulling you into a small cell further down the first row. The cell was cleaner than you expected, the bed was still made with a soft blanket and there was a gas-light lamp sitting on the desk giving the room a surprisingly cosy feeling. You looked around the room and slowly started to recognise the clothes scattered around as Daryl's

"Sometimes I need space to myself." He shrugged as he caught the look of recognition on your face. He dropped down onto the bed and spread his legs apart, pulling you in by the waist until you were standing between them. "You ain't the only one with yer eye on this cell block. Been wantin' to take ya up here for a while."

Daryl slid his fingers into the belt loops of your shorts and pulled you even closer until you were pressed against him, chest to chest. You made the move this time, leaning in to kiss him slowly as you melted into his touch. His hands found your hips and gently squeezed before starting to slide downwards, exploring every curve of your body. You couldn't believe you weren't the only one who'd been thinking about this. You grew needier the more you thought about Daryl fantasising about bringing you out here and who knows what else he'd thought about doing with you.

He pulled away from the kiss and took in the sight of you standing in front of him in nothing but your bra, his hands running up your bare sides as he did. His touch was gentle against your skin, almost curious, exploring as he took note of every reaction and sound he drew from you. You let out a soft sigh as his hands trailed down to grab at the back of your thighs and he took the opportunity to pull you into another kiss, sliding his tongue into your open mouth.

His hands were so close to where you needed them now and all you could think about was how much you wanted him to touch you properly, to relieve some of the pressure between your legs that was now becoming unbearable. Instead, he took his hands off you earning a disappointed whine as he leaned back on his hands on the bed, tilting his head to the side as he watched you closely.

"Show me how ya like to be touched. Wanna treat ya right." He said then, his voice holding that commanding tone that made you weak at the knees. You could feel the flush settling over your chest, creeping up into your face and betraying your false confidence as he placed all the focus on you. It wasn't that you were completely inexperienced with pleasure. You'd touched yourself before, admittedly mostly to the thought of Daryl but that was different. Those times you were focused on the end goal, there was none of the teasing or neediness you wanted from Daryl. You wanted him to touch you like you were the only thing he cared about in the world.

"I uh -" You stuttered over your words, trying to find the best way to voice your thoughts to Daryl but the words seemed to die in your throat. You could feel the embarrassment you'd feared clawing its way up into your chest as you watched the expression on Daryl's face change. He seemed to have pieced it together but his look was more curious than it was judgemental.

"Is this yer first time?" He asked, his voice soft and quiet as he wrapped his arms around your waist. His thumb traced across your side trying to ease your anxiety as he waited for an answer.

"I hope that's not a turn-off." You chuckled nervously, turning your face away from his gaze as you admitted the truth. Admittedly it did make you feel better to finally have it out in the open and Daryl didn't seem as affected by the news as you'd expected.

"There ain't nuthin' you could do or say that's gonna be a turn-off. Been wantin' ya too damn bad for anythin' to change that." Daryl reassured you, pressing a kiss to the centre of your chest. You could feel your anxiety melting away at his words and the way his lips felt against your skin. The scruff of his beard tickled your skin as he tilted his face up to meet your gaze, the surprising softness in his steel eyes almost taking your breath away. His lips moved over your collarbone pressing gentle kisses there. "I'll take care of ya, be gentle with ya, I promise."

"I trust you." You nodded knowing he meant every word of it. You'd never trusted anyone in the way you trusted Daryl. Your hands fell to the back of his neck, running through the hair there before lightly pulling. You loved the new shaggy look he had as he grew his hair out longer, it suited him nicely you thought. Daryl tugged on your waist, pulling you down to straddle his lap before his hands glided up your back, meeting the edge of your sports bra. You got the hint as he snapped the elastic against your skin and leaned back, giving him the space to pull the material up over your head.

You could practically feel the path his eyes burned across your skin as he took in the slight of your now entirely bare chest. His touch returned to your chest, his calloused hands gently kneading at your breasts. You whined out at the feeling of finally having Daryl touching you like this as his palms rolled over your sensitive nipples. His own eyes were heavy with lust as he stared at the way your breasts looked under his hands, enjoying the feeling of your warm skin under his touch.

"You look fuckin' incredible like this Doll," Daryl mumbled against your skin as his lips found their way to your neck, moving across the front of your throat. The words seemed to tumble from his mouth before he even really thought about them and the rare praise from him had you rolling your hips against him, your body searching for any friction it could get. Your reaction spurred him on as he realised how much you loved the praise. "Best tits I've ever seen."

"Daryl." You tried to hold onto enough of your decency to still at least sound embarrassed by the way he was talking but his name sounded more like a moan on your lips. You didn't want to admit how much his words affected you but the way your hips started to grind against your control showed it. His lips left a trail of red blotches across your skin in their wake as his blunt nails dragged down your back, marking you as his.

"I mean it. Every word. Could spend all day worshippin' this perfect fuckin' body. Got an ass to die for too." His hands roamed lower down your back until he grabbed at your ass, using his grip to pull you closer to him. You collapsed into his chest, your arms winding around his neck as you pulled him into a needy kiss. He squeezed at your ass, making your hips roll forward again and with this new position you could feel his erection straining against his pants underneath you.

His need was growing with each kiss, his lips growing rougher, messier against yours with each kiss becoming all teeth and tongue. You needed more, needed everything you'd been daydreaming about with him. You had a hundred fantasies running through your head and even if you were unsure what you were doing you wanted to learn, with him.

The kiss broke as you shifted further back in his lap, his mouth chasing yours as you pulled away with a teasing look on your face. You glanced down at his lap as your hands finally found his belt. Daryl let out a soft groan as you played with the leather material before you started to thread it through the buckle, sinking off his lap and onto the ground between his thighs. As he pieced together what you were trying to do he caught your wrist then, urging you back up.

"You don't gotta do that, not yer first time." You smiled up at Daryl through your lashes, giving him the sweetest look. It truly was heartwarming how willing he was to put the full attention of this moment on you but you'd been dreaming about what it would be like to go down on him for weeks now.

"I know but I wanna." You reassured him, kissing the inside of his wrist where he was still holding yours in his hand. You let the kiss linger for a moment longer, feeling his pulse under your lips. "I just- I don't know what to do really is all."

"Let me teach ya then." He said, his voice raspy with the thought of just how much you wanted to please him. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about you on your knees like this for him before. He quickly undid his own belt before kicking his boots and tattered, well-worn jeans off to one side leaving him in just his boxers. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs at the sight of the outline of his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers. You hadn't even touched him and yet your head was swimming, making you feel drunker than any alcohol ever had. "Just go slow, take ya time."

You reached out and lightly dragged your fingers across his cock over his boxers, feeling the way he twitched as your touch pulled a strangled moan from his lips. The sound awoke something in you, making you forget about your own nervousness for a moment as you went for it, finally tugging off his boxers to throw them down with the rest of his clothes. You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock and slowly stroked him up and down, watching for even the smallest reactions on his face. You could see the rise and fall of his chest as he fought to keep his eyes open, watching you as you let your tongue peek out, leaving kitten licks just under the head on every downward stroke.

"That's it Darlin' j'st like that." His southern drawl deepened as the lust he was feeling took over, building higher and higher. There was something about your innocence and how willing you were to learn, to let him be the one to ruin you that turned him on beyond belief. You kissed your way up his length all the way from the bottom until your tongue ran across the tip, licking up the precum that was starting to build up there. You leaned in then and took the tip between your lips, looking up at him as you slowly pushed your head forward. Your tongue ran along the underside as you took the first inch or two. "C'mon ya can take a lil' more, atta girl."

You couldn't say no to the praise coming from Daryl as you pressed forward again, stopping just before his cock moved far enough back in your throat to make you gag. You moaned lightly around him at the feeling of finally having your mouth on him, the sound vibrating in your throat sending a spark of pleasure through Daryl, You let your tongue do the work as you held him in your mouth, letting your body adjust to breathing through your nose as you traced along the vein that ran up the length before lapping over the rip.

"Suck." He said then, his voice breaking on the word as he tapped your full cheek. His hand found its way to your hair, tangling his fingers there as he slowly started to pull your head back before urging you forward again, setting your pace. He needed more, needed movement before he lost his mind. "Ya gotta suck and move yer head."

You followed his instructions, hollowing out your cheeks as you matched the pace he set for you, bobbing your head over his cock. His hand tightened in your hair as you sucked and he let out a low groan of your name, his head falling back towards the ceiling. You pressed your thighs together in hopes of getting some relief as you ached between your legs at the noises he made. You got a little too eager at how good you were making him feel and took him deeper than you could, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as he hit the back of your throat and you gagged around him.

"Shit-" He moaned out at the feeling of sliding further into your throat, getting him even closer to the edge but he held himself back, resisting the urge to thrust his hips knowing it was too much for you. "Just breath, 'ts alrigh'. Easy sweetheart."

It sounded like he needed to listen to his own advice as his breathing grew heavy, his ragged breaths turning to groans as each movement brought him closer to the edge. You could feel your panties being ruined between your legs, growing wetter with each gasp and breathy moan of your name that fell from his lips. You started to gain more confidence and brought your hand up to join the mix, stroking what you couldn't take into your mouth

"Fuck!" Daryl practically growled low in his throat as he used his grip on your hair to pull you off him rougher than he'd intended as you started to move your hand harder along his cock. You looked up at him, wide-eyed with fear that you'd done something wrong but that quickly faded when you saw the look on his face. He collapsed backwards on the small bed, his eyes screwed shut as his hand tightened around the base of his cock, trying to regain control over himself. His chest was rising rapidly, a string of curses falling from his mouth. "Fuck- I almost fuckin' came. Christ woman how the hell was that your first time? That mouth is sinful."

"You could have you know," The mix of knowing just how good you'd made Daryl feel and your slight nervousness at matching his dirty talk made you giggle. You rested your chin on his thigh and looked up at him through your lashes, sinking your teeth into your already swollen and saliva-coated bottom lip. "Come in my mouth. Kind of hoped you would."

"Next time Darlin' next time." You could feel your heart racing at the thought of a next time with Daryl already. You never wanted anyone else after this, Daryl was all you needed. He leaned down and helped you up from the rough cell floor, his hands smoothing over the harsh red marks showing on your knees. You kind of hoped they'd last, as a reminder. "C'mere to me."

You crawled onto the bed next to Daryl as he sat up and finally shrugged off his leather bike vest and short-sleeved flannel, giving you a full view of his chest. His body was perfect, every mark and scar just adding to how attractive he was to you. You ran your hands over his skin, feeling the way his stomach muscles tensed under your touch the lower you reached. Every touch and every moment of this was better than you could have ever imagined. You could never have imagined how hard his muscles would feel under your hands as they moved to his forearms, tracing over the tattoos there.

Daryl's hands found their way back to your waist and he easily manhandled you, moving you however he wanted until you were lying down on the bed underneath him. He kneeled over you, grabbing your jaw in both hands as he crushed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss that knocked the air from your lungs. He was already strung out, his entire body on edge from how close he'd been earlier but still, his hands were gentle with you as they slid over your stomach, his kiss the only thing betraying how desperate he was.

He made quick work of your shorts, flicking the button open with one hand before pulling them down your legs. Within seconds of your shorts hitting the ground, Daryl sipped his hand into the front of your panties, slowly dragging his fingers across your folds as he felt how wet you were.

"This all for me? Did ya get this wet just from suckin' my dick?" He asked his voice dripping with that teasing tone that drove you wild, stopping his movements until you answered him.

"Yes. All for you Daryl." You gasped as he drew his fingers around your clit in painstakingly light circles as a reward for your answer. It was enough contact to send fire burning through your nerves but nowhere near enough to give you any kind of release. You bucked your hips up into his hand, hoping to get any kind of pressure but instead, he pulled his hand back out of your underwear moving to pull the already ruined material down your legs. He threw your panties to the side and returned his thumb to its previous position, brushing over your clit while he slowly pushed his middle finger inside you.

"Fuck ya really are tight aren't ya?"Daryl groaned out feeling the way you clenched around his finger as he imagined what it would feel like around his cock. He slowly pumped his finger in and out of you as he started to stretch you out. You were admittedly worried about being able to take Daryl when you felt the slight burn from his finger alone and he was bigger than you'd expected. "Don't worry sweetheart, I'll make sure yer ready."

The feeling of Daryl fingering you was unlike anything you could have ever had with your own hands. His fingers were thicker than yours, stretching you out as he a second one to the mix and they were skilled. Years of working with his crossbow gave him the precision he needed to find your g-spot as he hooked his fingers inside of you. You never knew it could feel this good when it was someone else bringing you pleasure. He leaned down and caught the sounds of your moans with his mouth in a messy kiss.

He trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses across your jaw and down your throat towards your chest, you already knew they'd leave a mark as he sucked at your skin. His teeth nipped at your collarbone as you lost yourself in the pleasure that was starting to build higher and higher in the pit of your stomach. His tongue licked across your skin, soothing where he'd just bitten before slowly moving down to lap across the curve of your breasts. He focused his attention on you, trying to ignore how painful hard he was as he felt you buck up against his hand at another curve of his fingers. His lips latched around your nipple as his fingers never let up their pace, slowly stretching you out until Daryl could easily slide a third finger in.

Daryl grew restless with each minute that passed, changing his focus to your other breast as he sucked and lapped his tongue across the hardened nipple. The feeling of you clenching around his fingers as your hips thrust up to meet his movements drove him crazy. He couldn't take it anymore.

"Think ya can take me now sweetheart?" He asked, his voice dropping an octave as he leaned in close to whisper in your ear, his hot, uneven breath fanning across your skin. Your hands found his shoulders before sliding up to lock around his neck, pulling him into a kiss as you nodded. You were more than ready to feel Daryl inside of you, your body practically screaming at you with how badly you needed to come.

"Y-yeah Daryl please, please fuck me." You whined out at the feeling of Daryl pulling his fingers out of you, suddenly clenching around nothing. He brought his hand up admiring the slick coat of your arousal that coated his fingers before slipping them into his mouth. He let his eyes fall shut as he sucked, his tongue licking the taste of you from his fingers.

"Fucking hell woman, I'm eatin' that pussy first chance I get. Taste so damn sweet." He groaned out, that low gravelly sound pooling between your legs as you pictured Daryl's head between your thighs. "But right now I might just fuckin' explode if I don't fuck ya."

Daryl shifted you both into a more comfortable position as he settled between your legs, his hands pushing your thighs further apart. He took a minute to admire the sight of you spread open in front of him before he lifted one leg to wrap around his waist. You got the hint, digging your heel into the small of his back to pull him even closer. You could feel his cock pressing against your folds when he adjusted himself as close as he could get to you.

"Ya ready for this?" He asked looking down between your bodies as he took his cock in his hand and teased the head over your clit. You threw your head back at the feeling, your leg tightening around his waist.

"I want you, Daryl." You gasped out, nodding your consent as he move his cock lower to gather some of the wetness around your entrance. Lube hadn't exactly been a top priority on your last few runs but Daryl still wanted to make sure this was as comfortable as possible for you as he stroked himself, spreading your arousal over his cock.

With your final nod of approval, he pushed forward, the first few inches sliding inside you. You cried out at the feeling, your back arching off the bed as your hands grasped his arms, dragging your nails across his skin. Even with how much Daryl had tried to prepare you it still burned as your body fought to adjust to his size. Your chest heaved with your harsh breaths as you whimpered.

"Shh hush sweetheart yer alrigh'. Just breathe, it'll get better I promise. I'll go slow." You could feel your body relaxing from the simple words of praise from him as his hand cupped your jaw, swiping his thumb across your cheek. He moved at your pace, waiting until he felt your muscles relax, releasing their tight grip on him before he thrust forward again. This time he sunk into you fully, holding himself close to your body as he fought every instinct that was telling him to thrust, to just move. He buried his face in your chest, placing kisses between your breasts as he waited for you to adjust again.

"Daryl - move, please." The pleading tone in your voice sounded foreign even to your own ears but you couldn't help it. You had never felt this full, so completely surrounded as Daryl's body caged you into the bed. He stretched you out in all the best ways and even the pain it caused got you higher and higher. It felt like time slowed around you as Daryl stayed still inside of you and it was driving you crazy, you needed more, needed to feel him move.

Daryl wasted no time in giving you what you wanted, he pulled out almost entirely before thrusting back in. The rhyme he set was slow but deep, each thrust reaching a place inside you that had you moaning out at the contact. You gave into the feeling more and more as you adjusted, the pain giving way to pure pleasure. There was something freeing about being in the building alone, you didn't have to worry about who would hear you or what kind of attention you'd attract as your moans grew louder which each thrust until you were damn near screaming Daryl's name.

This feeling was far beyond anything you'd experienced before, beyond anything you could have imagined. Your senses were entirely overwhelmed by him, the feeling of each thrust building you towards the best orgasm of your life. The sound of his pants were growing heavier in your ear with each thrust and you were breathing in the rich, heady scent that was so unmistakably Daryl that made your head spin whenever you were around him.

You dragged your nails down his back, feeling the raised skin of his scars under your touch as you went, leaving new red marks after you. His thrusts were starting to grow sloppy, losing their rhyme as they came faster than before as he chased his own release while trying to keep his focus on you. His hands pinned your hips down to the bed as you tried to arch into the feeling, completely losing control of your body as your brain melted with how close you were.

All it took to break the pressure that was building inside of you was one swift drag of his thumb across your clit and you were spasming around him, your entire body freezing as you came hard. You grasped at him, needing something, anything to ground you as broken moans fell from your lips.

"Daryl! Oh god - I - shit - please. Please." You weren't sure what exactly you were begging him for anymore, all you knew was everything was too much and yet somehow not enough at all. Your control over your body entirely shut down as you turned to putty in his hands, letting him use you in whatever way he needed as he chased his own orgasm.

"Fuck ya feel fuckin' perfect, that pussy squeezin' me like that. Look so fuckin' sexy when ya cum like that for me. I coulda watched that forever." Daryl's words were becoming slurred as he spoke, barely making any sense anymore as his entire focus was on the feeling you were bringing him. His hips snapped roughly against you to the point of almost being painful before finally he rutted against you, moaning loudly into your neck as he came. You could feel him twitching inside you as he collapsed against you, his arms giving out underneath him. He didn't bother pulling out of you yet. "Doll ya have ruined me forever, I ain't ever gonna get as good a fuck with anybody else. Don't wanna either."

"Daryl that was - that was- holy shit." You laughed but it came out more breathy as you collapsed back against the pillows, trying to steady your breathing. Daryl slowly pulled out of you, the feeling making you groan out at the slight discomfort but you were almost glad of the ache that you knew would remind you of what you'd done for days.

"Hope that was as good as ya were expectin' for yer first time," Daryl said nuzzling his nose under your jaw as he lay down beside you on the small bed, turning you on your side so he could pull you back against his chest.

"It was more than perfect, thank you, Daryl." You reassured him as you tangled your arms with his that had settled around your waist. You lost track of how long you lay like that, simply enjoying each other's company as Daryl pressed light kisses across your skin. You could have easily fallen asleep like that and any other time and you would have but you were still technically on duty. "We should get back before the others start askin' questions."

Daryl hummed his agreement as he watched you sit up on the bed, running his hand up your back before you put your bra back on. He stood up from the bed as you started to dress yourself again and quickly threw back on his pants, walking over to grab a clean washcloth from the desk. Without saying a word he knelt down in front of you and gently wiped away the mess between your legs, leaving a light kiss against the outside of your thigh once you were clean. You could feel your heart flutter at the gesture, just the simple act of him taking the time to take care of you.

With your tank top still damp and abandoned in the sink of the washroom you slipped Daryl's oversized shirt on over your head before reaching to grab your panties from the pile of clothes. You glanced around in confusion when you noticed they weren't next to your shorts anymore.

"Daryl did you see my -" You looked up to see the cheeky grin on his face as he slipped his hand into his back pocket and dangled your panties from the tip of his finger in front of your face.

"Lookin' for these?" You rolled your eyes and reached to grab them from him but he quickly dodged your movement tucking them back into his pocket. "Consider it a keepsake. Until next time."

"Well in that case," You stood up slipping back on your shorts with nothing underneath, even after everything you'd just done it felt like the naughtiest thing you'd done all day. The denim rubbed against you in all the places you were still sensitive. You pushed up on your toes to kiss his cheek before whispering the next words in his ear. "I'll find a cuter pair for you to keep next time."

Taglist: @azanoni @ineedmorefanfics2

#aoife writes fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fic #the walking dead smut #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon smut

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unholyplumpprincess · 2 years

Text

Lucky Charm

Summary: You're a bar hand with Thieram at the Last Drop. You're the eye candy of the bar, and according to Sevika; The only one who can pour a drink worth a damn. You've caught her eye, and you'd be a liar to say that she hasn't caught your eye in turn. Heavy tensions finally dissolve with one night of luck.Or! In which Sevika makes you dry hump her thigh during a game of cards and you finally get this woman back to your apartment to ruin you in that pretty dress she likes so much on you.

If you like/heart this, don’t forget to reblog to motivate me to make more fics and keep writing :D People who leave nice tags or comments I am kissing u on the mouth!

Ao3 link: Here

Fandom: Arcane (League of Legends)

Relationship: Sevika x Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Reader is gn with a vulva, Reader also is wearing a dress but once again no gendered lingo, Sevika is a trans woman, Public dry humping but like it’s a Secret

Words: 4.2k

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Sevika was all you thought about nowadays.

It was funny how it all started. You’d been scooped up by Silco’s gang- not like you’d put up much of a fight. The pay was good and you didn’t have to get your hands dirty. All you had to do was help pour some drinks and make sure that if someone was being rowdy, you made sure to get the proper people to toss them out.

If bouncers weren’t available, Sevika was the proper person to call for it. And people had to be tossed out pretty often; Meaning you tended to talk to her during those times. It also helped that apparently, according to her, you were the only person in any bar that could pour a drink worth a damn.

You and Thieram kept it pretty tidy and easy going in the Last Drop. If he wasn’t doing the drink pouring, you were and he was running drinks and vice versa. If the bar was too full, you’d do the drink running just to keep the peace. Thieram wasn’t too good being up close and personal with people who wanted to maul him just for being a little late.

Thankfully, you knew how to handle people.

~Rest under the cut~

You were a sweet talker, knowing how to bat your lashes and twirl your hair, playing it up nice and sweet. Sometimes patrons would put a hand on you somewhere like your waist or shoulder, crooning for you to stay. That you might be their lucky charm in the next game of cards or darts. Maybe even their lucky charm in bed later.

It started subtle at first.

At first, you thought Sevika was just being helpful looking out for her own. She’d step in, giving you an excuse to walk away somehow someway.

But then, something recently had been happening.

Sevika would come by when someone touched you or got too close, normal and business as usual with the swagger in her step. But her metallic arm would wind around your waist or wherever else they touched and pull you close to her.

In turn, it meant her body was blocking them from touching you again. She’d make sure to step back and away from them, using her other hand to gesture to them with a grunt of, “They botherin’ ya?” With her low, smoky voice implying things you couldn’t even begin to swallow. All whilst leaning in close enough to you that you could feel her breath wash over you.

And then other times she’d play it up and act as if you were hers. At least, that's certainly what her tone implied. With a, “Don’t touch what doesn’t belong to you, filth.” Spoken down to people who touched you, making you feel a little more special each time.

Each time you’d thank her privately afterwards, but always stating you could handle your own if it came down to it. But she’d given you this little look last time, her hard gaze softening into something that made your heart seize as she’d murmur, “Not a problem, doll. Just taking care of you. Take care of my own down here; You're included in that."

It echoed through your head on the daily now. Taking care of you. Wasn’t like you didn’t think about her daily already doing that.

Ideas fluttered in your head of her spreading your legs, dropping to her knees and sighing when you pushed her hair back from her face. How she would take care of you just like that. Splitting you apart on her flesh fingers and her other hand clinging gently to your thigh despite having the ability to rip you apart with the pointed metal.

Then the pet names. She’d started dropping little ones here and there. Doll, sweetheart- it was weird because you noted she didn’t call anyone else these names. Not even as a form of humiliation or degradation for them. Only directed at you.

Made you feel special.

So, what if maybe you started dressing up a little more at work too, right? So, what if you noted the way her eyes trailed after you after you delivered her drinks to her? So, what if maybe you started getting closer to people when delivering your drinks just to catch her eye and she’d come over and ask if they were giving you trouble?

It catches up to you. The tension between you two could be cut with a knife. Thieram, bless his heart, didn't even have to ask you to deliver her drinks anymore. He'd just immediately put it up, pat it, and say, 'For Sevika'. Or on days he was feeling a little braver, he'd do this little smile and tell you, 'For your girl '.

Your girl, huh? You could get used to the sound of that.

But now, Sevika is getting bolder in turn. You'd never describe her as shy, not even now. A tease, though? Always. Recently she asks you to stay for cards, just to be her lucky charm. And damn it if you didn't stay, perched on a chair next to her and letting your leg gently nudge hers occasionally. Or brushing against her.

Then it happens.

You're running her drink to her, swiveling around people and enjoying the way your dress brushes against your legs. Too high of slits going up your thighs and too low of a dip in the front of it making you feel all too powerful as you stepped into the room.

Eyes follow you, but the only eyes you give a damn about looking at you look up to you and darken in hunger immediately. You hide a smile playing on your glossy lips, four drinks expertly in your arms that you gingerly begin to place on the table for her and her players.

When you place hers down, bent over at her side, Sevika grabs your wrist. Nothing harsh, just a loose hold to get your attention. Attention that you give her with a sly glance under your lashes.

"May I help you?" Your tone is teasing, standing to your full height with her hand still around your wrist. Her gray eyes flicker across your body, settling on the long slit up one of your legs and moving slowly up the bare, soft flesh.

Got her.

"Why not stay a bit? Gotta be tired walking in heels all night." Sevika's tone is smooth, releasing your wrist to instead grab her cigar. One that she drags to her lips, keeping your eye as she blows the smoke out to the side. A smirk lingering on her lips as she widens the stance of her legs and pats her thigh.

Your heart pounds in your throat, trying not to look too eager at the implication. You keep your facial expression neutral as you look over her, a low hum in your throat as if you're pondering it.

"Could use a good luck charm this round." Sevika's smirk grows a little bit as she says it, her hand masking it when she takes another drag of the cigar. Her metallic hand reaches out, palm up to you with an expectant look.

Shit, you didn't have her. She had you.

"I suppose just a round couldn't hurt. Wouldn't want you to lose, right?" You finally say as if you'd been taking so long to think on it. You take her hand, noting the way it curls around yours and how much smaller your hand is in comparison.

She spins you gently so your back will face her chest. You perch in her lap as directed, perching on one of her strong, broad thighs. The front of your dress falls over her leg, making the splits more obvious on either side of your thighs to bare them.

You hear her hum softly behind you, this low pleased sound that shoots straight to your cunt and makes you swallow thickly. It gets even worse when Sevika sets down her cigar in the ash tray, using that hand to rest on your waist. The other holding her round of dealt cards.

You try to keep your focus on the cards, you do. Trying to listen to what the other card players are saying. But all you can focus on is how Sevika's hand has now brushed down from your waist, nice and slow. Down to the exposed thigh of yours as she cups the swell of your hip and lets her thumb dip down to circle the bare flesh.

Your breath hitches, but you try not to let her notice. Two could play at this game anyway.

Carefully, you shift in her lap. You adjust your stance ever so slightly with an expert shift of your hips, feeling your wet panties brush along the roughness of her pants.

She must feel it too, considering how her grip on your hip tightens, pulling you down a little harder against her thigh. It's a quiet challenge, something that makes you bite the inside of your cheek as you realize what she's doing.

Sevika wants you to fucking grind on her thigh. A challenge, to see if you'll actually do it.

It would be humiliating, in a quiet way. The music around you is loud, the flashing lights and the darkness of the room would give no hint to the subtle humps and rolls of your hips. Only you and her would know it.

And maybe...just maybe this thick tension would finally pop like a burst balloon.

Not one to turn down a challenge, especially by the handsome woman you've taken to perching on, you roll your hips downwards. It gets delicious friction on you, withholding your sounds save for the tiniest of sighs that you pass off as boredom with a flick of your hair.

Sevika doesn't help any, getting greedy with you in her lap as she gently tugs on your hip to set the pace. She's an expert with her cards still, and though you can't see her face, you know she's keeping a straight face to the other players.

The Death tarot cards stare you in the face, and smack dab in the middle of them is a beautiful the Lovers card that she thumbs over.

You turn your head to the side to feign a cough to swallow down the sigh you have in your throat. Your fingers clutch tight to your own lap, fighting the urge to straight hump her thigh messily like you want to. Each drag of your hips forced by her is heaven, the friction of her pants and your panties making your clit throb.

A particular sharp tug of her hand makes you gasp sharply, yanking you back into Sevika's chest so she can hook her chin over your shoulder. She plays it up casually, her hand slipping off your hip and instead resting on your bare thigh.

You're throbbing, wet, and worst part was is that you were shaking in her lap and swallowing down whines at lack of friction. You hardly hear her smug tone as she announces, "Better luck next time, boys." As she lays her cards flat on the table to hear them groan and shout.

"Play again, this time let me have the lap candy on me. See if they really are good luck." One of the goons say, leaning back in his seat to pat his lap like you're a pet. You huff, opening your mouth and surely ready to start an argument, but Sevika's hand gripping your thigh tighter stops you.

Worst of all, she's tugging you again to grind you against her thigh. A quiet demand to keep going that makes you flustered and your cheeks flushed.

"That was our last round- 'sides, I always play for keeps. And them?" Sevika's tone is possessive as she pauses on that note, slipping her hand into your inner thigh and tugging you to be still against her chest. "They're mine to keep. Not for sharing."

There's a round of boos from the group, huffs and rolls of the eyes that clearly meant nothing as they stand to trot away. Leaving you with Sevika in her chair and you still perched on her lap.

"Didn't say you could stop, did I?" She murmurs by the shell of your ear, letting her lips tease and her warm breath making you shudder. "Come on, keep movin'."

You let out a shaky sigh, tipping your head back against her and leaving your neck open for her to kiss. Both of her hands are on you, her metallic hand hooking into your thigh to tug you back as your hips move forward. Grinding you harshly into her as her other hand winds around your waist to hold you more solidly to her.

Anyone could see you and notice. Even with just what it looked like on the tin, her kissing your neck so openly-- so possessively was sure to garner attention from those around you. But no one would really tell Sevika otherwise. Even if she were to fuck you on the table right in front of you.

"So pretty," Her praise is quiet, nosing just under your ear as you hump her thigh in slow back and forth grinds. Your brows furrow, your eyes fluttering shut as your breath shudders out. "Bet you make prettier sounds in bed, don't you?"

It's not a question meant to be answered, not when she's sucking a bruise into your neck that makes you whine aloud. It's quiet still, one of your hands now gripping her flesh arm and the other coming up to fist in the back of her hair.

You're dizzy with desire; But you're not the only one getting off it seems like. Not when you can feel her behind you through her pants. She's hard, able to feel it against your ass with every needy jerk back of your hips that she gives you.

"Wanna find out?" You finally breathe out, your breath catching when she grips you tight to hold still.

"Couldn't treat you like a one-night stand," She murmurs earnestly in your ear, making your heart pound. "Would want you every night. Every day. Wouldn't wanna lose you. But I promise I'd treat you good, you wouldn't want for anything-"

"Silly girl," You laugh out softly, your laugh more like a breathy sound. "You've had me. For a long time. Now stop the game of mouse and cat and just take what's been yours all this time."

The moan Sevika presses into your neck is downright needy. You don't get to even tell poor Thieram where you were pulled off to- but you're sure he'd understand.

You'll owe him another night.

It's a struggle to make it back to your apartment, but thankfully you lived close by to the Last Drop. You hardly get the key in before the door is being kicked down, quickly kicked shut behind you as soon as Sevika gets her hands on you.

You're forced against the door before you can blink, hardly having time to see her vaguely in the dark as she swoops down to your height to steal a kiss from you.

It's not hard like you expected it to be, not even rough. Her lips are chapped, her hands on your waist are soft but firm- like she's trying to keep you there with her as if you may disappear. As if you may kick her out at any moment or change your mind on the whole ordeal.

You dispel her fears by grabbing her shoulders to pull her down, snaking your arms around her neck and fisting her hair in one hand to pull her closer to you. The moans that erupts from her is almost feral, the hands on your waist yanking you closer in turn. But she's quicker than you when you go to slot a thigh between hers, instead she kicks your legs apart so she can do it to you.

You break the kiss to sigh shakily, your eyes tilting up to the ceiling as Sevika kisses down the column of your neck with a growl to her voice. "If I knew you wanted this as bad as me-"

"Has my flirting not been obvious enough to your liking?" You cut her off with a breathy tease, caught in a moan when she grinds her thigh on your cunt. Your clit is still engorged, your entire body only getting hotter at the action. “Come on, and here the Boss boasts about your observa— ah! ”

Sevika's teeth sink into the side of your neck where her first bruise was made, making you arch into her with a gasp and your nails pressing to her scalp. A swear falls from your lips, sliding your hands down her body until you can find her ass and yanking her against you firmly instead.

The height difference makes it more like her hips press to your lower abdomen, but not like that little detail seems to stop her. Not when her hands are finding the underside of your thighs to yank you up against the door to slot her hips properly to yours.

"D-don't like being talked back to?" You tease again, gasping when Sevika's hips grind harshly into yours. Letting you feel the outline of her cock through her pants. Shit.

"Don't like being interrupted." Sevika clarifies, dragging her lips up to your ear to nip at your lobe as her voice lowers. "I was already interrupted once tonight to even get here. All I should be hearing from your mouth are those pretty sounds you promised."

"Then why not get them out of me yourself?" It comes out of you before you can even think. A bite back that makes a dark chuckle rumble into your throat by her lips.

"Gladly."

A woman of her word, Sevika takes you to the bedroom without dropping you once or even looking like she's struggling. When she plops you onto her bed and crawls over you, you get the distinct feeling that you're the prey here. Even as she takes her sweet time taking each layer off, starting with your heels.

She kisses up your legs, each one pronounced and on purpose. She keeps your eyes on her own as you sit up on your elbows to watch her peppering kiss after kiss on your skin. All but whispering promises with just her eyes.

"This dress has been killing me all night." Her voice is low, gravel tone by now and making you shudder. You go to sit up to let her take it off you, but she pushes you back down with a cocksure smirk on her lips. "Nah, let's keep it on this time. That way when you try this shit again? You'll think of how good I fucked you in it."

"Oh -" You gasp out, your face flushing as you lay back down. You bite your lip as her hands slide up your thighs, so gentle as she hooks her thumbs into your panties to pull them down your legs. You help by lifting your hips up, watching with darkened eyes as Sevika pulls them to her face to inhale deeply.

Your face burns worse than before, watching with blown out pupils when she tucks it into her back pocket. "Oh, you are filthy." You breathe out, amusement and desire burning into your words.

"You like it." Sevika states, flipping up your dress to show her prize. Your pussy is wet, glistening and flushed- all the proof she needs to know you did in fact like it.

Your legs are soon hooked up and over her shoulders as she shifts onto her stomach. Your hands reach down, finding purchase in her hair and taking the time to brush her hair back behind her ears.

You don't miss the smile that briefly graces her lips, or the way she tips her cheek into your palm briefly. A small nuzzle and a peck of your palm from her lips that has you biting your bottom lip to mask a smile.

It's quickly ruined when Sevika’s tongue licks a stripe, long and slow from your hole to your clit. A filthy moan leaves her lips like finally tasting something she's longed for before her face buries against you. She takes you like she's making out with your cunt, sloppily licking you up and briefly sealing her lips around your clit.

Your sounds quickly mingle with her own delighted moans. Whines leaving your lips as your fingers tighten in her hair, dragging her up to your clit where she spends her sweet time on you. Each brush of her open mouth and her tongue making you cry out. Only for her to pause to part her lips, running them over your clit as if she were applying lipstick and letting her breath fan over you.

"Fuck, Sevika-" You whimper, feeling the vibrations of her groan when she suckles on your clit. Her tongue dips down then, her nose running across your clit as her tongue briefly dips inside of you. "Please -"

"I like when you beg," Sevika's voice is muffled against you, looking like it's taking everything in her to finally lift her head from your cunt. You find her eyes; How glossy her lips are and how it's dripping down her chin like honey. You whine helplessly at the sight. "Tell me what you want, baby. I'll give it to you. Anything you want, just tell me."

"Y-your fingers, please? Please, I need to feel you." You sigh it out, tugging her hair just a bit when her mouth finds your inner thigh rather than where you need it most. "Don't tease me, Sevika, come on-"

"Say my name again." Her words are low- nearing on a threat as she looks up at you from under her lashes. She presses a wet kiss to your mound. Right above your clit. A promise.

"S-Sevika-" You gasp when her lips find your clit again, her flesh fingers dragging through your slick to gather lubricant. "Sevika, please, please-"

Two fingers curl into you abruptly, experienced and calloused fingers curling right where you need them the most.

Your hips thrust upwards, quickly pushed back down by Sevika's heavy metal arm laying over your hips. You sob out her name again and again muddled with pleas as she licks you raw and fucks you with her fingers. Her metallic hand moving so she can press on your lower abdomen, keeping you pinned and allowing you to feel all the pressure she gives you.

You pull at her hair helplessly, sobbing out when her fingers pound into you and finally reaching your end as you cum. Your body trembles harshly, your hips forced to keep still as you squeeze down on her fingers that now just quirk inside of you in small come-hither motions.

"There you go. Fuck, look at how well you squeeze on my fingers, hm? Gonna feel so good wrapped around me, sweetheart." Her praise is muffled by her own mouth against your clit, flicking her tongue out occasionally just to feel how your body jerks. How you gasp out between moans.

"Sevika, t-too much." You whine lowly, trying to twist out of her grip to no avail. Sevika chuckles against you, pressing one last kiss to your clit wetly before moving away to let you pant underneath her. Already missing the feeling of her fingers in you.

Your hair is definitely a mess, the straps from your dress having slid down your shoulders and exposing your chest. Something that Sevika takes great care in reaching up to squeeze deliciously. Sliding her fingers down your breasts to pull at your nipples gently and causing your hips to hump up into nothing with a cry from you.

"You are insatiable, you know that?" You gasp out, reaching up to bat her hands from your chest despite her quiet laughter.

"Can't help it. Been wanting this for a while." Sevika croons, sliding her hands down your clothed sides as she does so. It lets you catch your breath, looking up at her through your lashes and letting your eyes fall to the bulge in her pants.

When you go to reach for her, Sevika snatches your wrist and pins it above your head. "Not this time, doll." When she catches how your lips twist into a pout, she lets a smile play on her lips as she reaches down to peck the pout away. "Let me take care of you tonight. Just focus on you tonight."

When you finally relent, she kisses you properly. Letting you taste yourself on her lips as you sigh against her and pull her down on top of you.

Once you've finally caught your breath, she peppers kisses back down your body and ruins you again. And again. And again.

Throughout the whole night, keeping true to her word, she forces you to cum again and again. On her tongue, on her fingers, all in various positions. Even at some point using your own toys on you until you're pleading and begging her to just fuck you herself.

Sevika never even gets undressed, despite your begging. Just promising and shushing you about next time.

You make it a point to tell yourself to buy some rope as you tiredly lay in bed with her arms lazily around you. But a glance down to her arms makes you hum quietly to yourself.

Chains. You'd need chains to hold her down for next time.

Next time...

#Sevika x Reader #Sevika #Arcane #nsft #lemon #princess writing #writeblr #fic #trans sevika

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