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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 1 year ago

Text

A Sting in the Way You Kiss Me

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Early Alexandria

Warnings: Poorly written, raunchy smut, Dom/sub dynamic, p in v, fingering, oral sex (f & m receiving), prostate stimulation

Summary: You and Daryl take the next step in your relationship. And it’s a big step.

A/N: Lawd, this took forever! I’m not 100% happy with it but happy enough to call it complete. I think I like Sub!Daryl. I’m sleepy now so I’ll proofread and fix errors tomorrow.

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

Daryl Dixon made you feel powerful.

Given his nature, you could never be sure if it was intentional. From day one at the quarry, he was rude, standoffish, and vulgar. You found him difficult to tolerate, but hey, you didn’t get to choose the people with which you had survived an apocalypse. It was a random twist of fate that had brought you all together. Better to just make the best of it.

So, you did. You made it a priority to get to know everyone in your group, saving the Dixons for last. Merle, you quickly surmised as a lost cause. Women, to him, were meek and fruitless, destined to die without a big strong man to ensure they were protected, fed, and bred like cattle to repopulate the earth.

You found Daryl to be a tad more reserved. He only offered his opinion—usually loudly and to include several swears—when the conversation revolved around an important topic that would directly affect him or his brother. He otherwise attempted very hard to keep to himself. So when you began to follow him around, he naturally bucked against the idea. Still, you saw potential there and persevered.

You took an interest in the things he was doing, namely hunting and trapping. He was a skilled tracker and a marksman with his crossbow. You started small, asking how the weapon worked. He had been skeptical and scrutinized you for sincerity, all with a glower in the span of five minutes. It was only uphill from there.

When Daryl began to teach you his trades, he made sure you learned by doing. His only praise for getting something right was usually a curt nod and a “that’ll do.” By giving you weapons, having you track a buck that would feed the group for days, spear a fish, and skin and clean your own kills, he had put power in your hands. He had single-handedly molded you into a force that could survive in the new world.

When it came to walkers, Daryl somehow knew things that others didn’t. “S’gotta be the brain! Don’t ya’ll know nothin’?!” You knew. Thanks to him. You had spent a lot of time in the woods, the perfect place to learn how to take down the undead. It was virtually impossible for them to sneak up on you. Too many ways to make noise if you weren’t actively trying to be silent. Once again, a weapon had been placed in your hand and you were thrown to the wolves…erm…walkers. The difference between this and hunting, you noticed, was that Daryl was never too far away with his own weapon ready. He knew how to make you feel independent without wagering your safety.

The months and tragedies continued to pass slowly, each profound in their own way. Surviving was top priority and to continue to do so as time marched on became more and more of a victory. You lost people and homes, each leaving a mark on your soul that would never be erased, chipping away at your humanity bit by bit. Surprisingly, it was Daryl who kept you grounded.

By the time you arrived in Alexandria, things between you and the archer had evolved into something just short of a romantic relationship. You had been sharing space with him for months now, falling asleep warm in his arms every night. You would show him affection in front of your friends and, though he scowled and grumbled, he accepted it. Kisses alternated between slow and passionate and long and needy, each accompanied by intimate touches that never seemed to go far enough.

Today, you had been helping him with the bike Aaron had gifted him to keep him busy. He had shown you back at the prison how to make repairs, along with the correct name and function of each part. He was sitting beside you while you both diagnosed what could be causing the thing to sputter and die randomly. Your eyes were drawn to his muscles when he would tighten a bolt, and more than once, you had caught his gaze roaming up the length of your bare legs until he reached the hem of your shorts and quickly looked away.

It was becoming a problem. An absolute dilemma that was resulting in a pulsing, wet need between your thighs. You chose to ignore it and focus your energy on the task at hand. Daryl, however, decided that he needed the wrench that just happened to currently reside between your lower thighs. When he reached for it, you were unprepared and reacted instinctively. You smacked the back of his hand before you even realized you had moved. He pulled back the limb with surprising quickness, wide blue eyes zeroing in on the red welt that began to form just below his knuckles.

“Shit! I’m sorry!” The words tumbled out of your mouth as you grabbed his hand to inspect it yourself. He let you pull it closer even though it meant he had to lean forward awkwardly. Your fingers brushed over the irritated flesh and before you could stop yourself, you pressed your lips to the mark you had left. A chance look from under your lashes showed he still wore the wide eyes, but the brilliant blue was merely a thin ring around his dilated pupils.

‘Oh.’ Could it really be? You had honestly thought Daryl just wasn’t into sex since the world ended. He had never made a move, never given you any indication that he was waiting for you to make one. Sure, your make-out sessions would get pretty heated, but honestly, things were always too hectic or dangerous for anything more. Maybe, just maybe, now that your family was safe behind the walls here…

You knew Daryl had lovers in the past. It was a topic of conversation once during a night watch before the prison had fallen. Your head was on his shoulder as you recounted — in more detail than he had liked, if his growls and grunts had been anything to go by — your average-size list. When it had been his turn, he hadn’t been as forthcoming as you but you at least surmised that he knew his way around a pussy if ever the opportunity presented itself.

On a whim, you flipped his hand and let your lips whisper over his wrist next, drawing up your legs to sit on your knees. He still didn’t stop you while you moved up his arm with hot, open-mouthed kisses and kitten licks. Eventually, you needed to skip over his clothed shoulder (for now) and his neck became your next target. He leaned back slightly when you threw a leg over both of his to straddle him, unleashing an onslaught of attention over his carotid pulse. His breath hitched, his palms hovering over your hips but seemingly not yet willing to touch you. You would use that to your advantage at some point.

Salt, smoke, and earth were mingling on your tongue. “I like how you taste.” You whispered in his ear, smiling against his skin when you felt him shiver. You leaned back to bring your face in front of his, fingers grabbing his chin when he started to look away. “I think we need to go to your room.” He swallowed hard, his Adam's Apple bobbing.

You stood straight up from where you were on his lap, leaving your feet on either side of his hips and the apex of your thighs directly in front of his face. Once again, he tried to look away. “Don’t.” You ordered before you thought better of it. To your surprise, he stopped short and turned back, even as he scowled from being bossed around. ‘Oh.’ The things he told you without saying a word. “Don’t keep me waiting, Dixon.” You stepped back and then over, swaying your hips more deliberately than usual as you exited the garage.

You didn’t turn to see if he would follow. If you were reading him right, he would.

And you were about to have the time of your life.

Entering the home you, Daryl, and Carol shared, you passed the staircase that led up to your room and stepped into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. You probably had a good ten minutes before Daryl would stop pacing the front porch and actually come inside.

Descending the stairs from the kitchen, you opened the basement door and flipped the light switch. Even though you had separate rooms, you spent more time in his room than your own. The things you used most were down there. You slept there. Nothing was really going to change if this happened, right?

Pursing your lips, you shook the thoughts away and placed the water on the nightstand, twisting the switch on the small bedside lamp. After you turned off the overhead light, satisfied with the subtle glow left behind, you grabbed the bottom of your shirt, pausing just before you were going to lift it over your head. No. You’d stay dressed for now. Your boots came off, along with your socks, and you sat on the edge of the mattress and waited. Sure enough, after a little less than ten minutes, you heard the slow, heavy footfalls descending the stairs.

He must have needed another moment because there was a silent span of about fifteen seconds before the door slowly opened and Daryl entered, already gnawing on his thumbnail.

“Hi.” You beamed, crossing your legs and leaning back. The bowman nodded minutely, looking so adorably uncomfortable that you came close to calling the whole thing off. You did need to ensure this is what he wanted. If it wasn’t, you could live without it. You had him and he would always be enough.

When he closed the door and didn’t take another step, you rose to your feet and walked toward him, adding that extra sway to your hips. It was a pleasure in and of itself to watch him watching you. When you were close enough, you started by pushing the open vest off his shoulders, smiling when he dropped his hand from his mouth to let the garment fall from his arms to the floor.

“Daryl.” You purred his name, and his eyes found yours instantly. “I need you to answer some things for me, and I need you to use words.” You worked at the buttons of his shirt agonizingly slow. “Can you do that for me?” He nodded. You shook your head and tutted. “Words, Dixon.”

“Yeah.” He answered immediately in a quiet tone.

“Do you want me?” A button came free.

“Yeah.”

“Do you know that I want you?” Another.

“Yeah.”

“Will you let me be in control tonight?” Your fingers paused when he hesitated. “You don’t have to—”

“Yeah.” He may have hesitated but his answer sounded certain.

You smiled. “I’m going to give you a safe word. If at any time, you’re uncomfortable or you need or even just want me to stop, do you promise me you will say that word?” Another button opened. You had zero intention of going very far, but it would never hurt to establish rules when you wanted so badly to play with him. And he was letting you. You feared getting carried away in the heat of the moment, and his safety and comfort were the most important thing in the world to you.

Daryl inhaled sharply and nodded, following quickly with a mumbled “yeah.”

“And if at any time, you can’t speak and want me to stop, will you double tap somewhere on my body to let me know?”

“Yeah.”

“Good boy.” You felt his sharp inhale beneath your fingers while you finished with the buttons, opening the shirt but not removing it. You could see a few of his scars like this. Not wanting him to grow self-conscious, you stepped into him, tracing one with a gentle fingertip only to follow with your lips. “You’re beautiful. Has anyone ever told you that?” Daryl shook his head. “Daryl.”

“No.” He whispered.

“Well, you are.” You let your finger continue upward to stroke his jaw before abruptly turning away. “First thing’s first.” When you reached the bed, you turned back to him. “The safe word is chupacabra.” A flicker of annoyance was immediate in his eyes. “Say it.” Your tone remained no-nonsense.

“Safe word’s chupacabra.” He drawled, trying not to sneer.

“And what do you do if you need to stop and you can’t speak?”

“Tap on ya twice.” The archer replied almost immediately.

You cocked a brow at him. “Good. I need you to understand that I will never be upset or disappointed if you need things to stop. Ever.”

“Alright.”

You smiled at him fondly. “Good. Now, come over here and undress me.” There was that hesitation again as his eyes raked over your body, pausing at every curve just long enough to let you know he was appreciating what he saw. Finally, he stepped toward you. Once he had reached you, he again paused. You let him. He had touched every part of you before through your clothes. This was the first time he would see you bare.

After a few moments, he reached for the bottom of your shirt while you raised your arms above your head. The garment was pulled from you and tossed aside. Your bra wasn’t anything special. Something you had grabbed on a run a few months back; white and at least one cup size too small. You decided to do this part for him, unfastening the clasp at your back and removing the thing yourself. Daryl didn’t seem to mind, his gaze lingering on the newly exposed skin. Men and boobs, a tale as old as time.

“Shorts.” You stated simply, a smirk firmly plastered on your face when he snapped out his daze and met your eyes. There was a slight tremble to his hands as he reached for the button, his eyes narrowed. You watched him and he watched what he was doing. Button open, he dragged down the zipper, and his eyes flickered up to yours. You gave him a nod.

His thick fingers dipped inside the waistband at both hips, but just as he started to pull, you interjected. “Panties, too.” You heard the shaky inhale as he adjusted his hold to grip your underwear as well, lowering to one knee as he pulled both garments down your legs. They were quickly shed and kicked to the side and your hand found the top of his head when he made to stand. “I think I like you there.”

Daryl tilted back his head to see you, taking the hint and lowering his other leg so he was fully kneeled.

“Good boy.” You breathed, feeling a pulse between your legs. You had wanted to do a few other things with him before really jumping into the fun bits but your needy cunt simply would not be denied. The mattress dipped as you sat in front of him, spreading your legs in an obscene display just to gauge his reaction. The blush that crept across his cheeks should have been adorable but only served to stoke your arousal. “Come here, Daryl.” A few feet separated the two of you, so it was only natural for him to assume you wanted him to stand.

That isn’t what you wanted at all.

“I didn’t say get up.”

The archer paused halfway. The look he sent you had you wondering if this was where he would end this game. He’d say ‘fuck this’ and do things his way, pounding into you until you were red and sore and screaming his name through your release. The thought was appealing.

You arched a brow when he lowered back to his knees, a quiet curse on his lips. Would he do it? The minute he leaned forward to place one palm against the floor, you thought you might cum then and there. Daryl Dixon was crawling toward you because you told him to.

He stopped just short of your spread knees, one of your legs coming up to rest on his shoulder. He looked over at it but quickly turned back to you.

“Closer.” As soon as you could, you started digging your heel into his back, urging him onward until his warm breath was wafting over your core. You bit your lip, reminding yourself of the role you were playing. Your first instinct was to beg him to touch you. No, not tonight. He’d have his turn. The thought of Daryl taking charge sent another sharp pang of arousal straight to your center, your cunt clenching around nothing. The way his eyes left your face and focused on the wet mess between your legs confirmed that he had noticed. You had to reel this in if you wanted to continue. Clearing your throat, you placed your other leg across his other shoulder. “I can’t decide if I want to feel your mouth on me or those fingers inside of me.”

You tapped your chin, feigning deep thought. You had every intention of utilizing both of those delicious options. Dropping your hand, you rested back on your elbows. “Let’s see how good you are with your tongue first.” Daryl gave you a look that would have melted your panties clean off had you still been wearing them. Goddamn, he was handsome, even more so when he was showing some confidence.

Before your mask had a chance to slip, you felt his fingers spread you open but dare not venture between your lips. Blue orbs stayed on you when he leaned in and pressed his tongue flat against you, dragging it from opening to clit before pulling back to repeat it. The second drag ended with the tip swirling around your bundle of nerves. Sparks of pleasure jolted from where he touched you. You could feel it coursing through your veins like lightning, burrowing deep in your lower belly.

He paid special attention to your clit, taking his sweet time alternating between flicks and swirls of his tongue to gentle sucking to grazing his teeth over it with just enough pressure to make your head fall back and your fingers tangle in his hair. Then he moved down, lapping at your opening with the same attentiveness, the wet slurps and appreciative hums pulling the knot inside you tight. When he dipped his tongue inside, pumping in, out, in and then wiggling it against your inner walls, you were already close to orgasm, panting and pulling against his scalp helplessly.

He was moving back toward your clit and you knew if he made contact, you would spiral. Not a satisfaction you were ready to relinquish to him. “Stop!” You ordered breathlessly. He almost didn’t, the brat. His breath hit hard against the sensitive nub but he didn’t touch it. “I want your fingers inside me.” You kept your head back, staring at the ceiling. “Nowhere else.” Your climax had receded but it wouldn’t take much to call it back.

You never had a problem cumming from penetration only, but it took time and effort. It would give you a moment of reprieve to gather yourself and draw this out a little longer.

Or would it?

You were wet enough for his middle finger to easily slip inside, the feeling of your walls pulling him in further earning a drawn out moan from somewhere deep in your chest. You raised your head to look down the length of your body. Thank whatever deity that Daryl was watching his digit move in and out of you instead of meeting your eyes. He felt so fucking good.

Your legs pulled toward you, leaving your ankles balancing on his shoulders and your thighs opening further. You couldn’t fucking help it. “Another.” You demanded and he immediately obliged, drawing his finger nearly all the way out so that his index finger could join the onslaught. “Mmm, so good,” You praised. Your hips began to roll in time with the slow thrusts of his hand, the hot coil that was low in your belly getting tighter and tighter.

The sounds that filled the room were a testament to just how soaked you were, and they were only becoming more prominent. It was no longer about how long you could keep this up. Your body ached for release, your mind too clouded in a euphoric fog to care.

“Make me cum.” You looked down again and his eyes met yours as he lowered his head, drawing your clit into his mouth. He sucked the swollen bundle and flicked it with the tip of his tongue, his fingers curling each time they pushed inside of you and tapped that sweet, soft spot that had your toes beginning to curl.

“Yes, yes, right there. Don’t stop!” And he didn’t. He increased his efforts, humming around your clit. “I’m gonna cum!” You had no more than uttered the words when the coil inside you snapped and released wave after wave of intense pleasure; a wildfire of sensation burning through you while you cried out his name and pinned him against you with your thighs. Daryl didn’t let up, collecting all you offered as your cunt pulsed around his fingers.

“Shit,” you murmured, your body going limp. Fingers carded through the archer’s hair while he pulled free from within you. He directed the digits toward his lips. “Let me.” The command came out breathless and shaky, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Daryl appeared almost sad that he was losing that last taste of you, but he did as he was told and leaned forward to press his fingertips to your bottom lip. You sucked both digits into your mouth, your eyes fluttering closed.

“Goddamn.”

Your eyes peeled open to find the bowman watching you intently, those blue pools brimming with desire. You smirked and made a show out of opening your mouth and letting your tongue sweep across his skin, gathering every drop of your nectar. The man looked as if he was going to jump your bones. He was trembling from restraint, among other things, you were quite sure. With a hum, you pulled your mouth away.

“Stand up.” The authoritative tone was back now that you were focused on a new goal. Daryl blinked, arousal replaced with irritation. His scowl deepened but once again, he obeyed. Rising up onto your elbows, you watched him stand, flexing his fingers at his sides. Using the ball of your foot, you pressed into his groin, against his obvious desire. The archer hissed through his teeth but he dared not move.

“Take off your clothes, Daryl.”

A smile crept across your face at how quickly he began following that command. His shirt was shrugged off in seconds and you couldn’t even be sure when his boots and socks had been removed, but you pressed your foot into him again when he reached for his belt. He stopped with a grunt.

“Slower.”

If looks could kill, you’d soon be a walker. His hair blew away from his eyes with each hard exhale through his nose. Once again, you wondered if this was where your fun would end. And once again, he surprised you and began to follow your instructions. Your foot fell away once he had worked the belt loose and popped open the button. Your eyes tracked the downfall of the zipper, only barely concealing your excitement.

His pants fell first and the regret of not demanding he remove those and his boxer- briefs simultaneously was immediate. Though his underwear left very little to the imagination in his current state. You met his eyes for a moment and raised a brow to urge him onward.

“Don’t get shy on me now, Dixon.” You teased. Moving up onto your knees at the edge of the mattress, you barely waited until the last garment was kicked aside before your hands were on him. You wanted this experience to be positive for him, and while you had so, so much planned for him tonight, taking a moment to just appreciate how stunning he was wouldn’t hurt. Your lips found the skin just above his clavicle, sucking gently.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.” You whispered before dragging your tongue up the length of his neck to his jaw. “Sometimes, I can’t believe you’re real. And you’re mine.” Your hand wrapped around his cock just as your mouth pressed against his, allowing you to swallow the delicious whimper he offered at the new contact. You kept your grip loose, pumping him at a tortuously slow pace. His mouth fell open and gave you the opportunity to delve inside with your tongue, tangling it with his when he responded to the advance. His breath between the intricate dances of your mouths had begun to pick up, an excellent moment for you to pull away completely. Your cunt clenched in response to the whine he emitted. “Be a good boy and sit down for me.”

Daryl moved a little more slowly now, almost cautiously, watching you when you crawled up to the top of the bed to grab both of your pillows. Your feet met the floor just as he sat down. You circled around to stand in front of him, lifting your foot and wedging it between his knees. “Open up, pretty boy.” The archer snorted quietly as he complied. The pillows fell between his feet with a quiet sound, and then your knees dropped onto them. You wiggled a bit to get comfortable and looked up to find him watching with his head tilted and a dark brow arched. “What? I’m shorter than you.”

His mouth formed a silent “oh” and he nodded. The adorable moment almost had you forgetting your role, but you were able to rein in your adoration just before the giggle could bubble up. To bring things back into perspective for him, you raised your hand and whispered the tip of your finger along the vein winding up the underside of his cock. There was a choked off sound, his hands balling into fists on his thighs. You splayed open the fingers of the same hand across his chest and gave a gentle push.

“Lie back.”

There was a deep, steadying breath and then he did as you ordered. Your fingers laced through his on both hands and moved them to the mattress, out of your way but still within sight.

“These stay here.” You commanded without a single centimeter of room for argument. You felt him shifting and just knew he was nodding. “Words, baby boy.” You chose that exact moment to wrap your soft palm around the base of his dick.

“Yes.” He finally answered in a rush of breath. You weren’t certain if he was responding to your words or your touch but decided to forego clarification. He wasn’t going to last long, so you were ready to play with him through that first release. Then your needy cunt could finally get its fill of him.

“So good for me.” You purred. You pushed yourself away from sitting on your heels, bringing you just where you wanted to be. You released him quickly, rewarded instantly with him rising onto his elbows to see what was happening. The urge to reprimand was forced down. This was your first time with him and his first time allowing this. If he felt better watching, you’d let him.

For now.

Palm open, you dragged your tongue from wrist to fingertip, your lustful gaze never leaving his face. The way he watched you sent a surge of wetness dripping from your core. God, you couldn’t wait to fuck him. First thing was first, though. Your hand met his cock again, warm and wet and stroking from base to tip, a twist, and back down. He couldn’t watch you after all. You nearly laughed when he collapsed back onto the mattress with a groan.

Movement in your peripheral had you looking to find his hands returning to where you had placed them. He must have realized he had moved them when he sat up. As a reward, you pumped him a bit faster. When you saw his chest heaving but heard nothing more than the harsh breaths, you found yourself pouting before remembering the power you had.

“You’re so quiet, baby. Don’t you wanna let me know that it feels good?”

He didn’t respond at first, and you wondered briefly if pushing him would be the right thing when he was such a quiet person to begin with. He had taken a lot of shit from you already and this just might be the straw that broke the camel’s back. So, you just moved on with your delectable torture.

Your pace slowed significantly. There was no time for him to investigate, though. Your lips were immediately wrapping around his tip, sucking lightly and lapping at the opening to gather the sweet little drops of pre-cum. Oh, were you rewarded for that move.

His fists white-knuckled the sheets, a guttural moan working its way past his lips. It was the absolute sexiest sound you had ever heard in your life. You closed your own eyes in restraint, almost cumming on the spot. You had to keep moving. Sudden pauses might have him second guessing what he had just done and you most certainly did not want that. He needed to make that noise. Often.

Swirling your tongue around the tip, you pulled him back into the warm cavern of your mouth. This time, your hand slid down the length of him, followed by your lips. He pressed against the back of your throat and had you cursing your gag reflex when you couldn’t hold him there long. It didn’t matter to him, apparently. The simple move had his back arching and his cock twitching against your tongue as you dragged your way back up.

You bobbed your head several more times, delighted in the way he began to writhe and twist the sheets in his fists. You gave him no warning and pulled off with a wet ‘pop’. There was that whine again that had your nethers pulsing.

“Look at me.” You ordered with an authoritative edge to your tone. Daryl lifted his head, still panting through parted lips. “I want to try something. I hope it will make you feel good. But I need you to know that if it doesn’t, you can stop me. Remember what I said. I won’t be upset. Okay?”

He nodded but followed it with a breathless “okay.”

“Such a good boy.” You kissed the weeping tip of his cock, parting your lips to pull him back into your warm wetness. With your hand and mouth stroking him at a steady pace, you knew he was ready to fall apart within moments. His cock began to twitch every few heartbeats. His breathing was uneven and shallow. He was a complete mess and you couldn’t seem to get enough.

You used your other hand to cup his balls, not remaining there long. They were a marker so you could find just the right spot. Starting at the base of his scrotum, you applied gentle but firm pressure, dragging the pads of your middle and index finger back and forth to massage his perineum, stimulating his prostate from the outside. Every ‘ah, ah, ah’ he fed you in response to the new sensation was a sound straight to your pussy. He definitely liked what you were doing.

Once again, however, your greedy little cunt couldn’t be ignored, begging to be stretched and filled. You hollowed your cheeks and sucked hard, your mouth squeezing him all the way up and off. Your tongue slithered out to break the string of saliva that stretched from your lips to the head of his dick. “Mmm, I think that’s enough of that, pretty boy.”

“Y/N.” He whined, keeping his hands right where you had placed them.

“You’ve been so good for me, baby. Move to the middle of the bed.” He complied in eager yet jerky movements, lust blown eyes on your every move as you followed him up. You stopped with your hot center hovering over his groin. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of me and you.” You lowered, grinding against and soaking his cock with your slick. “I want you inside of me. Would you like that?”

“Yeah.” Daryl reached for you but thought better of it and put his hands back on the mattress.

“Look at you. Wanting your hands on me so badly.” You moaned as the tip of him slid over your clit, providing the friction you so desperately craved. “But waiting for permission. Would you beg for it? To be inside me?”

His lips pressed into a thin line. Had you found the limit to how far you could push him? You drove your hips down harder, shifting back and forth, and he pressed his head into the pillow with a hiss.

“Beg me for it. Beg me because I want it just as badly as you do, but you have to be a good boy.” His heart thudded wildly beneath your palm as you caressed the muscular plane of his chest, his muscles twitching and contracting when you scraped your nails over his abdomen. “Beg and I’ll let you touch me.” You dipped toward him, letting your hard nipples touch his heated skin while your lips sucked at the hollow of his throat. “I want to feel you moving inside me, filling me up, Daryl. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Y-yeah.”

You sat up, going completely still. “Then beg.”

You watched as the defiance left his eyes, replaced by pure, unadulterated need. His fingers flexed in the disheveled sheets, his jaw clenching and ticking with how hard he ground his teeth. You smiled as desire beat out pride.

“Fuck, please, Y/N. Wanna touch ya. Wanna—wanna fuck ya. Need ya bad!” His expression morphed into something akin to desperation. “Please!”

“You can touch me.”

He didn’t wait, large hands grabbing your hips; spreading his fingers as he dragged calloused palms up your sides to cup your breasts. You couldn’t help the hitch in your breath when he pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers.

“Wanna be inside ya.” He breathed, one hand traveling upward from the swell of your chest. For a moment, you thought he might wrap it around your throat. The thought of him choking you was delicious, sending a warm gush of arousal from your cunt to coat his groin. He groaned and pushed his hips up into you.

“No.” You breathed. “Be good for me and I’ll give you what you want.”

“M’good—let me fuck ya. Please, Y/N.”

You hummed, more than satisfied, bending forward to drag your tongue from his chin to his lips. He opened eagerly, his own dipping into your mouth to taste you with abandon. You reached between your bodies, keeping your mouths connected, and positioned him at your entrance.

“Let me take care of you, baby.” Every syllable was spoken against his mouth, your cunt stretching around him inch by inch, drawing him into your fluttering, wet walls while you swallowed his desperate groans and panting breaths. “Fuck. You feel so good.” You made sure to move slowly, inch by agonizing inch, taking several heartbeats before you had taken all of him.

“God, Y/N.”

“I know, baby.” You were so full, stretched nearly to the point of painful but longing to feel him moving within you. He wouldn’t last long, but you wouldn’t either. You lifted your hips, feeling the drag along your insides in such a way that you needed to bite back a cry. “Oh, god, Daryl.”

His hands settled in a bruising grip on your waist but he didn’t try to move you. You had promised to take care of him and he was letting you. But you couldn’t take it anymore. You began to ride him in earnest, bouncing above him with your head thrown back.

“Goddamn!” He keened through gritted teeth, his eyes screwed shut.

“So—so good.” You felt the heat twisting low in your belly, pooling toward your clit while he throbbed within you. “Touch me, Daryl. I wanna cum with you.” His hands squeezed your hips before he brought one of them to where he was splitting you open, sucking in a sharp breath when his fingertips brushed his cock slipping inside you. He barely had the coherence to drag through your slick up to your clit, but the moment the rough pad of his finger pressed against you, you saw stars.

“M’gonna,” he panted, “gonna cum.”

“Me too.” You leaned forward, shifting into a brutal grind against his pelvis. “Fuck, Daryl!” The logical part of your brain screamed for you to move off of him, that you couldn’t risk him cumming inside you but you were both too far gone.

Your vision whited out just as you heard him shout your name, his finger pressing against your clit harder than you were sure he meant to, but it was just what you needed: that perfect amount of pain to send you toppling over the edge with him. You barely registered the warmth flooding into you with each pulse of his cock. Or the way his hips jerked up while his hand squeezed your hip so tightly that his fingertips turned white.

When you could see, could breathe again, his arms were around you and holding you against him while he struggled to catch his breath.

“Oh my god.” You whispered against his collarbone. You were both covered in sweat, trembling. He was still inside you, drained and softening, when his arms fell away to the mattress. You sat up with a great deal of difficulty, your thighs burning from exertion and your cunt deliciously sore. You’d be feeling this for at least a day or two, and the thought was exhilarating.

You lifted your leg to move away, feeling the mixture of you and him begin to drip out of you but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Obviously, he didn’t either, his eyes tracking you until you curled into his side. Sated and tired, you smiled and reached up to brush the damp strands of hair off his forehead, watching his eyelids grow heavier and heavier.

“I’m gonna get something to clean us up, okay? And then we’re gonna drink some water. Then you can go to sleep.” When he didn’t answer, you turned his head to face you with a gentle touch against his jaw. “Are you okay?” Daryl took a deep breath, almost as if he had forgotten to breathe before it. “Use your words, baby.” You kept your tone soft, no longer playing a role. It was just you and Daryl now.

“Yeah, m’okay.” He gave you the smallest lopsided smile and you knew he was still floating in that space between reality and euphoria, absolutely fucked out. You couldn’t stifle your chuckle.

“Alright, just stay awake for just a few more minutes.” You patted his chest and then climbed out of bed to fetch a damp cloth. Daryl struggled but he managed to stay awake. He was silent as you worked, wiping away the mess on both your bodies. The sheets would need washed but that was not a problem you’d solve tonight. “Okay, baby, just drink some water for me and we can go to sleep.” If he had any objections to the pet name being used outside of sex, he didn’t voice them.

It took him a moment and a bit of struggling but he managed to rise up onto one arm, letting you tilt the water bottle to his lips for a few long swallows. Then he collapsed back onto the mattress. You drained the bottle and placed it on the bedside table, climbing out of bed one last time to fetch your pillows. The archer was out by the time you returned only a few short seconds later.

You grabbed the duvet and pulled it up over both your bodies before curling into his side, smiling when he unconsciously pulled you closer and pressed a sleepy kiss against your forehead. He was done for then, breathing deep and even, sound asleep.

You watched him until your own eyes could no longer stay open, a muttered “goodnight, pretty boy” before you fell asleep to the thoughts of next time, when he’d be in charge.

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead #daryl dixon x female reader #sub daryl dixon #sub daryl #dom reader #dom fem reader #Spotify

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velvet4510 · 7 days ago

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Why Magneto’s Storyline in X-Men: Apocalypse is The Worst (it’s not just Cherik)

Ok I just need to vent because this has been chewing away at my brain for far too long.

Cherik is far from the only reason why Erik’s family plotline in X-Men: Apocalypse is some of the stupidest, sloppiest, and most character-ruining pieces of writing I’ve ever seen. Haters may say “oh you’re just upset because he married someone who wasn’t Charles.” But, like, aside from the fact that the original timeline already established that Erik’s top priority was always the fight for mutantkind and he had no interest in settling down - whether that had anything to do with his feelings for Charles or not - the problems with the Apocalypse writing go WAY beyond just him & Charles:

Erik would never abandon his cause at this point. By the end of DOFP, Erik has just been imprisoned for a full 10 years thanks to the JFK situation. Meaning he has spent a full decade being forcibly inactive in the fight for mutants. And he just learned that all of his fears about humans and mutants came to pass in the future to the level where a time-traveler had to be sent to change the past. And he was so set on averting that future that he tried to kill his friend and the sister of the man he loved, and then made a whole speech on international TV begging for the mutants of the world to fight alongside him. This is the POLAR OPPOSITE of a man who would feel like settling down and walking away from the fight within the next decade. The Sentinels being cancelled did NOT make mutant life easy overnight; Stryker was still up to no good, and there is no way that there weren’t others like him doing the same. Yes, Raven’s actions made a very positive difference, but I think we have enough brain cells to agree that this did not mean things for mutants immediately became sunshine and rainbows to the level where Erik - the most (understandably) paranoid character in the X-Men series - would even consider taking a break, let alone giving up the fight permanently. Knowing what he did about the possibilities of the future would’ve made the Erik we know double down on his commitment to his cause and follow up on his actions in Washington.

Erik wouldn’t risk starting a young family at this moment in his life. Erik was a Holocaust prisoner, his people were massacred, his mom was shot when he couldn’t move the coin, and then Charles was shot when Erik accidentally deflected a bullet into him, and then every member of his Brotherhood save Raven were captured and killed. Not only is this more than enough grief for one character to have, but the man wouldn’t dare risk having a new family of his own when everyone he’s ever loved has gotten hurt (largely because of him), and when he’s an international fugitive. That is no time to risk being selfish, and he would know. He would’ve been the first to realize that a potential spouse and child would also end up killed, and so he’d avoid that altogether. In fact, he wouldn’t even consider it, because, as mentioned, he wouldn’t leave his cause behind. You know, if he was actually in character.

Magda is a human. At this point, Erik hates humans. Again, he has just been imprisoned by humans for 10 years for trying to save a mutant, and he just learned that in the future, humans would’ve wiped out mutants, exactly as he feared. Everything that happened in DOFP would only further inflame his already-passionate hatred of humans. He is not in the mental state to even begin to consider Charles’ philosophy and give a human a chance at a relationship, let alone marry a human.

The family lives in Poland. The country where Auschwitz is. The country where Erik and his family and people was imprisoned, tortured, and executed. The country where Erik had to watch Shaw kill his mother. Basically the LAST country in the freaking WORLD that Erik would want to ever see again, let alone spend the rest of his life in. Erik is fluent in multiple languages - he is shown to easily converse in French and Spanish in First Class - and has been all over the world thanks to his Nazi hunting, so if he really needed to flee the U.S., there were a hundred other countries he could’ve gone to and blended into (Canada, France, Mexico, anywhere in South America, heck, he even could’ve discovered Genosha during this time). But in the original timeline, he didn’t leave the U.S. at all despite being a national fugitive after escaping his plastic prison, and he never did get caught again, so….

Erik’s first meeting with Magda is completely OOC for him. Erik mentions that he told Magda who he was the first night they met and he trusted her then. EXCUSE ME??? Erik Lehnsherr does not trust strangers. Erik Lehnsherr does not tell the complete truth about himself and his past to just anyone; look at how deeply Charles had to probe before Erik opened up to him. This stupid line was obviously shoehorned in just to make their relationship seem like perfect soulmates and thus ensure it is doubly tragic when she gets thrown in the fridge 5 minutes later (more on that in a sec). Obviously the intention is for the audience to go “aww, he instantly trusted her, she instantly accepted him, this is true love…” Give me a break. You’re really telling me that Magda met this stranger one night, found out he was none other than the international fugitive who apparently killed the U.S. president and just tried to kill another president on live TV, and went “oh, no problem, honey, let’s make a baby and live the cottagecore dream!” That’s some BS if I’ve ever heard it, and I’m convinced the writers subconsciously knew it; there’s a reason that is revealed in a throwaway line rather than shown onscreen, because then nobody would’ve bought it.

Fridging. Magda and Nina exist in the movie for one reason and one reason only: To get brutally killed and give Erik even more grief and trauma so that he’ll seek revenge on the entire world, aka do what the plot demands of him, aka have the same journey as he did in First Class (more on that in a sec). That’s all. Neither of them are any more than one-dimensional plot devices. They are not characters at all. Magda isn’t even named in the actual movie (he doesn’t even say her name when she dies) - it’s so obvious they didn’t even know what her name would be when they made the movie. This is textbook fridging, and one of the worst examples of it of all time. It’s all the worse considering that Erik never met Magda in the original pre-DOFP timeline, meaning Magda originally most likely lived a long happy life and died old in bed. But now, she gets fridged just because the writers didn’t know what more to do with Erik. It’s misogyny of the highest level.

A parenthood story for Erik was already set up. DOFP already hinted at Erik being a father, with Peter’s comment about his mom. So if the writers wanted to show Erik as a father, and to include Magda, they already had a solution that would seamlessly flow from the previous film - make Erik and Peter’s relationship one of the centerpieces of the story, and let Magda be Peter’s mom! (You know, like she is in the comics!)

It doesn’t contribute anything new to Erik’s character development. From a screenwriting POV, this is unforgivable. May I remind you that Erik’s entire storyline in First Class revolved around grief and trauma for the loss of his family and people, especially his mom, and seeking revenge for it. Giving him a wife and daughter just so they can get killed too adds absolutely NOTHING to his character development. It’s merely retreading everything that already happened in his arc: he loses his family and goes on a roaring rampage of revenge. Completely superfluous, right down to Charles insisting that there’s good in him beyond the pain. The redundancy becomes apparent even in the dialogue, where Charles literally says “I told you since I first met you there’s good in you too.” The script itself can’t help but point out that all of this has happened before and literally nothing new has been added to Erik’s character arc.

See? It’s not just because of Cherik. Erik’s story in X-Men: Apocalypse is an atrocity in basic screenwriting and character development, on every level. And I will never accept it.

(Please tell me I’m not the only one who feels this way…)

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inbabylontheywept · 7 months ago

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Want Better Things

“You thought that was a bioweapon?”

The translator broke down for a second as the creature did a sort of broken exhale. Connotations were all that came through. Vague implications. Pity, the software flashed. Disgust. Anger.

A pause as it decided.

Sadism.

Valta was already backing away. The final decision didn’t change his behavior, it just made the hall feel far, far too short.

“I didn’t order it deployed. I didn’t make it.”

The thing was staring at him, and he couldn’t look away. The two eyes moved in such perfect tandem that he didn’t think it was conscious. It only had binocular vision because it only needed binocular vision. Always the predator, never the prey.

And now it was moving in on him.

“Oh, but what if you had? Then I could tell you all the things that were wrong with it.”

One of its hands - a sprawling, five fingered spindly thing - traced carelessly along the station's walls.

“No incubation period. Symptoms arrive within 40 minutes of exposure. No time to spread undetected. Minimum should be one week. Embarrassingly low.”

The pressure the thing was putting on the wall increased, the gentle glide turning into a buzzing scratch. Humans were strong, but not strong enough to cut through metal like this. The suit had to be powered and clawed.

“Spread through contact. Limited waterborne. No airborne. Intended mechanism of infection is viral load being put on hands from scratching, and then passed into the environment. Pathetically inefficient.”

The translator was working, but the thing was overeunounciating each word. The meaning was being passed along by a clean, helpful voice in his suit, even as the sound was being passed on through the environmental speakers. And the sound was dreadful - clicks of ceramized bone jarring against each other, wet muscles modulating air into something sharp and rasping.

“Mechanism of death? Lysis overload. Could be dangerous if it was transmitted into the lungs, but since the initial load tends to be dermal all we wind up with-”

It took its helmet off.

It took its helmet off it took its helmet off it took its helmet off in a biozone it -

It looked a little pink, actually. A little scratchy. It lifted a delicate, taloned hand and rubbed its face against it for a moment before finishing.

“-is a rash.”

Valta’s prey drive had glued him to the spot. It was too close. The stupid, stupid part of his brain that still thought he was grazing on Duranga hoped that if he stood still long enough, it might not notice him.

The human paused a moment before continuing.

“Do you know why they sent me? Alphonse Ericsen, PhD, MD, civilian doctor, here to speak with you?”

Valta’s snout twitched. The suit translated the gesture for him.

“No.”

“Because one of our grunts is a dumb fuck,” the human said simply. “And he spent two days fighting on your station with his helmet off. He got infected that way and brought back your stupid, itchy plague to our carrier ship, and now we’ve all spent the last 8 hours scratching ourselves raw. But the jokes on you, because when we were treating that guy you know what we found? That he was in the asymptomatic phase of a COVID infection. So if this-”

It gestured to its pink face with a snarl.

“-is your idea of a bioweapon, then COVID is going to be your apocalypse. But if you work with me, and shut everything the fuck down for the next three or four months, I might be able to save most of you.”

Valta unstuck at that. He’d spent weeks down here, worrying about nothing more than the next skirmish. Now he was looking at a genuine existential threat.

“...What? Why would you help us? We wanted you to die. All of you. I wanted-”

The human cut him off with an exasperated wave of his hand.

“You wanted something stupid. Doesn’t mean I have to join you. Best I can do to fix you is keep you alive and hope that you feel ashamed later. That, I genuinely look forward to. Now come on, you’re going to be the one explaining to all your friends what’s at stake here. My bedside manner is so bad that they limited my patients to virology slides and USMC marines. I think that’s actually one rung below the guys that just dissect cadavers.”

Valta would’ve made an amused hum at that, but something already felt scratchy inside his throat.

#hfy #more flash fiction #I think I just needed a little brain break from pushing for larger works #fun tho #I really loathe HFY where the moral is like 'what if humans comitted war crimes and it was BASED'#so I tried doing one where it was 'what if humans took the moral high ground and like didnt do war crimes'.#the doctors prayer: that you live long enough to know what a dumbass you were #HASO #Humans Are Space Fae #sci-fi #770 words i think #Babylon-HFY

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dadyscumslutprincess20 · 1 year ago

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Lost Love

(Small story I thought about doing until I write another request that I got, also be looking out I’m working on 4 request at a time then the rest at once💕)

Cha Hyun su x fem reader

Genre: Just a bit emotional

It’s been a year since you last saw Hyun su after trying his self into the military to keep the remaining survivors of Green Home safe , so we all would be able to saved and took to a shelter/camp that was meant for any survivors

Since then you lived with the regret of not telling him about the baby , both you and Hyun su moved in together in your first apartment at Green home , since you were a bit more social you made a few friends inside the building , but most of you time was spent with Hyun su

When the apocalypse started. Hyun su started to have serious noise bleeds , times where he would black out or there were even moments you felt like he want your Hyun su

After gathering with the remaining survivors you soon learned that Hyun su was a special case of the monsters that now roamed the city

After a while you found out you were pregnant, deciding it wasn’t the right time as you kept the pregnancy to yourself .. not knowing Hyun su would turn his self in the same night

Now here you were a year later with two beautiful children, a boy and a little girl , even though it’s been just a year they were already at the age of 12

Before giving birth to Cha Hee (son) and Cha Hui (girl) , you escaped from the shelter finding a small abandoned camper , the only joy out it was that it was two small rooms that had a full sized bed in both , a small kitchen and dining area that was in the middle and the driver seat that was locked right when you entered the camper

Your pregnancy was pretty easy we’re surprised you along the way , except that you felt your self changing as you started to hear a voice in your head , you belly barely as it looked like you were just bloated from a good meal or something, but you knew you were pregnant, the hardest part of the whole pregnancy was the birth , since you didn’t have any support, you ended up giving birth to the twins inside the camper in your small room , bring down on a spare dry towel you had to hold in your scrams as you gave birth to both Cha Hee and Ch Hui

After giving birth to the twins you noticed how much you’ve changed, your eyes had I slight hit of green with time making your neon eyes now look unnatural, you half grew a bit longer as you soon realized that you gave in to your desires , now becoming a monster but some how keeping it in control.. maybe it was because you had not one but two people to protect

After a few months after having Cha Hee and Cha Hui you soon realized that they weren’t exactly human either , as Cha Hee was born with bright blue eyes , Cha Hui was born with Green eyes

There was a few differences between the two as Cha Hee, he was a quite child , who could make a person go crazy after a certain amount of days soon resulting in their suicide or the death of everyone around them including them selves if you were lucky enough to stay on his good side he would use his touch to show your most happiest memories

Cha Hui was a bit different she was a cold child , always quietly analyzing others , but even though she seemed cold she was super nice once you got to know her , her touch could either set your ablaze as you scream in pain and agony or you could fall into a deep sleep that no one could wake you out of as you live out your deepest fears over and over again, but like her brother if your were no harm to her mother or Cha Hee she could show you your happiest memories ,you didn’t discover this until it happened in front of your eyes

After that you had Cha Hee and Cha Hui to keep on a special pair of gloves that were handmade by you, it made you feel a bit more safe if no one would discover there powers then any one would assume their normal kids , the only thing that would make any one realize their twins it their dark black hair that resembles Cha Hyun Su’s

As you laid in your bed as you start to realize that it’s been quite for a while now , thinking that the the twins were in bed as you stand to your feet , slowly walking out of your room and you peek into their room that was located on the right of yours

Seeing that the room was empty as you start to become slightly worried , heading for the kitchen finning area to see that they weren’t there either

‘Where are they’ the voice in stead your head says as you frantically search the camper a second time just to make sure , but when you saw they weren’t there you quickly open the doors to the camper heading down the three small steps as you head out the door looking left and right frantically as you run straight heading down the road as you call out both Cha Hee and Cha Hui’s names

Not getting a response from neither of your babies as you start to panic thinking of all the possible things that could have happened to them

What if they ran into humans? Or worse the military? , as your mind starts to cloud with questions that only made you panic more , you soon came to a hault as you heard a few giggles , looking around the area as you notice a small grader dome

Taking a small breathe in and out as you head inside the small dome , eyeing scanning around the flowers that bloomed with life , causing you to feel a bit calm but still worrying for you babies

After a while of walking down the small trail you come to a stop , as you feel your body tense up , confusion shown in your eyes

There was Cha Hee and Cha Hui.. but they weren’t alone , there stood Hyun su with a girl that seemed to be around the age of 14 as she talked to Cha Hui who had a small smile on her face , it took a while before Cha Hyun su noticed your presence , eyes locking with your as Ah-yo turned to see why Hyun su was so quite , eyes slowly following his as they land on you soon catching the attention of the twins

“MOMMY” Cha Hee screams out with joy as he runs toward you wrapping his arms around your waist with a smile

“Mom , look we made a new friend” Cha Hee says as pulls away from the hug grabbing a hold of your hand as he pulls you towards Hyun su , Ah-yi and Cha Hui as Cha Hui soon stand beside you wrapping her arms around you as she looks at Ah-hi and Hyun su

“This is Ah-yi and Hyun su” Cha Hee says as he points to both Ah-yi and Hyun su

“And this is our mom , Reader” Cha Hui says as she tightens her hold eyes still watching Ah-yi and Hyun su who eyes now look at you with pure shock

“M-Mom…” Hyun su says as his head hangs low , Ah- yi noticing the hurt in his voice , after a few seconds his head slowly rises eyes now shining blue as he gives you a cold stare

“ After everything we done for you.. to keep you safe , and you have some assholes child , correction children” Hyun su says eyes staring daggers in to yours as you feel a shiver flow down your spine

“I-It’s not like that” You reply as you look down down your feet not able to look him in the eye

“Wait..you know her” Ah-yo says as she looks between you and Hyun su in confusion

“I do actually in fact she’s our dear girlfriend, well was it seems” Hyun su says eyes now looking both at you , Cha Hee and Cha Hui

“I didn’t cheat okay.. I just..” you say looking back in to Hyun Su’s eyes tears now threading to fall

“I don’t know how to tell you and it was to late.. you let us alone” you managed to choke out as tears start to flow, Shock showing on Hyun Su’s face as he looks between Cha Hee and Cha Hui

“T-Their .. mine” Hyun su says eyes slowing turning to normal as he slowly falls to his knees , tears falsify flowing down his face as he looks at you with a sorry expression

“I-I didn’t mean to .. I-I just wanted to keep you safe..I..” before he could finish his sentence Cha Hee warped his in a warm hug as Cha Hui looks him in his teary eyes

“So .. your our father” Cha Hui says as her green eyes watches Hyu su closely as he slowly nods his head in agreement, slowly walking towards Hyun su as she slowly wraps her arms around him pulling him and Cha Hee in a hug

“I had a weird feeling .. it explains why we were okay with you keeping us company” Cha Hee says with apart smile

After a while of hugging , Hyun su informs you on Ah-yi and how he has been taking care of her since she was pretty much born , listening as Hyun su talks about Ah-yi like a proud father , which he was, he starts to feel guilty about missing his own kids growing up deciding to keep not only Ah-yo but you and both Cha Hee and Cha Hui close and safe

#black reader #fem reader #female reader #sweet home #sweet home 2 #sweet home imagines #x reader #cha hyun soo #cha hyunsu #cha hyun su x reader #sweethomefanfic #sweet home x reader #sweet home fanfic #kdrama x reader

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mouthpoisons · 11 days ago

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alright heres my jayvik tragedy theory currently

jayce is in a timeloop. his mission is to stop viktor from becoming the most powerful version of The Machine Herald, which would be the absolute worst outcome for the world. the unicorno toy shares a lot of design elements with how viktor appears in ep6, like the staff, brooch, organic looking gold accents, etc.

i believe the design the toy is based on would've been the natural progression of ep6 viktor if jayce doesnt intervene. a divine-mechanical god-king of the apocalypse who thinks he's figured out how to save humanity from itself. in this scenario it would also be revealed that 'sky' is the hexcore, subtly manipulating viktor into helping it spread it's influence across the world

this version of the machine herald would very much be the manifestation of heimerdinger's vision, and viktor would be the mage unleashing chaos, turning everyone into those creepy robotic drones from jayce's hallucinations

the decision to just straight up kill viktor in ep6 is a move jayce has made after hundreds, thousands, of tries of doing Literally Anything Else. by the point we see him he's run out of ideas and compromises. the only sure way to Defend Tomorrow is by Destroying The Hexcore.

but then singed gets ahold of viktors body and turns him into ambessas new fucked up living weapon. and this is pure agony. by saving the world from the worst possible fate, jayce is dooming viktor to go through this horseshit. we are going to get the most gut wrenching horrific Trapped In His Own Body viktor imaginable next week

the obvious thing for jayce to do in this scenario would be go to back in time and make sure there's nothing left for singed to salvage, so something is definitely preventing him from doing that. jayce is Not (hopefully 😔) going to be cool with the all new torment nexus his actions have pushed viktor into. unfortunately it could be as simple as the timeloop just being broken and he's locked out of trying it again now.

i really, really hope the rest of this story pans out something along the lines of viktor is subjected to the worst thing to ever happen to him as a direct result of jayces actions, but he breaks himself out of it somehow. like everyone else, viktors lack of agency this whole show has been pissing me off and i need him to rip himself out of this cycle of being killed, resurrected, used, manipulated, and killed again with his bare fucked up hands. i want to see him emerge from this with nothing left but AM levels of hatred for jayce (and the human condition) as he forges Himself into a version of the machine herald that's aesthetically closer to what we know

theres some un-covered stuff here like who's jayce talking to/who's ordering him around in ep6, and what the hell the deal is with him having a bunch of classic machine herald design elements right now, but i think that last one has a good chance of literally just being ''viktor beats the shit out of him then steals a bunch of stuff off him'' and im tired of writing this lol

#post #arcane #arcane spoilers #jayvik #viktor arcane #jayce talis #I don’t know enough about League Lore to thoughtfully factor stuff like the void into this so take it as it is #it’s also possible that there’s no timeloop and jayce has just been very straight uppedly stuck in the viktor apocalypse world #but. my copium #doomed viktor theory

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eldritch-spouse · 8 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/eldritch-spouse/746604785112940545/how-would-the-tce-boys-hold-up-in-a-zombie

The Morell one unsettled me fr fr 💀

I like to imagine meeting Santi in a zombie apocalypse though. You aren’t sure of him at first but then you get cornered by some zombies and after he helps you out you accept his offer

Out of all the things you expected to find in the midst of a zombie apocalypse, an incubus is the last one.

Since their method of feeding involves being so close to others, and body fluids, they were a major factor in the propagation of the infection, and also some of the first to succumb to it.

So really, your poor brain is doing cartwheels in your skull trying to understand how not only did you spot a living high-ranking incubus, but said demon also saved you from a considerable horde of zombies.

Santi, he introduced himself as soon as the two of you aren't covered in rotten blood, and he was clearly malnourished. Dim eyes, bags under them and somewhat gaunt cheeks, a sickly sort of hue to his skin. His smile had too much teeth to it and his gaze was too predatory no matter how hard he tried to conceal it.

The demon would try to act charming, but the hunger merely being near you would induce had him snorting at the air and salivating as if you were seasoned steak on a platter. You knew what he wanted, just as you do now. Even if Santi had tried to be gentlemanly and claim that he helped you without expecting anything in return, it was no secret those words were only meant to endear him to you enough to consider sex.

He must be too weakened to be using pheromones, because you only ever experience small waves of arousal next to him. They last little and can be ignored with some effort. His mostly futile and tentative attempts to be subtle, to coax you, ruined by his instinctive anticipation.

You knew one day he could just decide to throw you to the ground and fuck the daylights out of you. That he was dangerous, less so than the zombies, but there was still the fear that he would savagely hurt you in his hunger.

Nights ago, you woke up with the sound of him tearing wildy into a group of zombies, frustrated by the inability to gain minimal energy from using their bodies. You think you might have heard him sob then, and in that moment, you could only imagine how such constant starvation must be driving him insane.

He can die soon.

Because, while you can find a can of beans somewhere and be satisfied for a while, Santi can only do the human equivalent of scraping the hints of sugar off candy wrapper.

And that thought scared you immensely. The incubus had been your most reliable source of protection thus far, losing him would mean going back to that permanent dread, that hopelessness, the slow madness of being alone for extended periods of time. But every single day, your hellish guardian grew weaker.

And a part of you thinks the incubus might be fond of you, to not just outright assault you and keep denying his survival drives.

More than merely fond, but that's a can of worms neither of you want to open.

Tonight, you've been awoken again.

The sensation of something wet trailing bare skin had you shivering to awareness, and now you're face to face with the demon. His tongue drooling across your inner thigh, eyes glazed, sweat glistening on his face and a fat cock throbbing between taught legs.

" Please... " He begged, long devoid of any attempt to charm. " Please... "

And it'd be selfish of you not to, right?

He saved your life.

You should save his.

#Santi oc

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midnightlamia · 4 months ago

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just finished the umbrella academy. rant & spoilers incoming:

let me get this shit straight: the hargreeves siblings didn’t ask for their powers or to be born. said birth and powers were forced on them when reginald hargreeves couldn’t just shut up and die with the rest of his planet/wife. then he flies down to earth, adopts them all, and some 30 years later, we find them running around, constantly trying to save the world from an apocalypse, only to eventually find out that the apocalypses are happening not because this random fucking alien unleashed sparkle dust on the galaxy and abused children that weren’t his in the name of his wife….but because the hargreeves were just born.

that’s it. the reason the cleanse happened is a) their punishment for being born and b) abigail felt bad for an experiment gone wrong and decided to make it the entire timeline’s problem. and the only way to stop it isn’t to figure out a way to stop reginald from unleashing the marigold/coming down to earth & allow all of the og 43 children to be born naturally, when they’re supposed to be, but to….erase the children that never asked to be born from existence while leaving a million loose ends, unanswered questions, and shitty character choices that don’t get developed or explained in any way.

this season was just…….it was definitely a season of a show, i’ll give it that. the pacing was all over the place, so much so to the point where, if anything, we needed four MORE episodes, not four less. i have so SO SOOO many questions. where tf is sloane? what about the other 35 kids with marigold in them? why didn’t we see five create the commission? does durango give superpowers the same way marigold does? why couldn’t ben just drink the marigold himself if he wanted his powers back??? WHY THE FUCK WOULDNT YOU JUST GO AFTER THE MAN WHO UNLEASHED THE OG MARIGOLD INSTEAD OF THE INNOCENT HUMANS WHO GOT STUCK WITH IT WHO THE FUCK CAME UP WITH THAT?? YOU COULDVE DONE A WHOLE THING WHERE THE COMMISSION WAS ORIGINALLY DEDICATED TO FIXING REGINALD’S AFFECT ON THE TIMELINE OR LITERALLY ANYTHING—

literally just kill this last season with fire. burn it at the stake. i’m so pissed and so done. i’ve been watching this show since i was in fucking eighth grade, and i was so excited. i thought they were gonna do a whole thing where it could’ve been like “ben was always meant to die and now the universe is out of whack” or just SOMETHING other than what we got. steve blackman, i genuinely hope you have the worst fucking time for the rest of your life, you raggedy, smelly, conniving, ass-backwards bitch.

thank you and good night.

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suiana · 2 years ago

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✎ yandere! writer headcanons . . .

✎ warnings . . .

― delusional yandere, obsessiveness etc.

(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)

✎ yandere! writer who made you his greatest creation. you were exactly everything he wanted, everything he needed. you're his beloved little main character, the love of his life.

✎ yandere! writer who didn't know when the lines between adoration and obsession mixed. he used to see you as just his character, now he wants nothing more than to keep you by his side.

✎ yandere! writer who cries himself to sleep every night, knowing you'll always simply just be a character he created, never real to anyone but himself. why couldn't you be real?!

✎ yandere! writer who is taken aback when you're standing in the middle of his bedroom one morning. eh? did he... did he drink too much last night? why are you standing in his room? you're so warm though... so soft, so beautiful- and he got slapped by you! so you were real! his prayers were answered!

✎ yandere! writer who deludes himself into thinking you came for him, that you loved him just like he loved you. so he keeps you in his house, never allowing you to leave despite your protests.

✎ yandere! writer who eventually caves and allows you to go out, he has to come with you though. you complain and nag him, you came to this world to save it from a disaster! not to be locked away like some damsel in distress! your writer thinks otherwise though. even though he wrote you to be badass and for your novel to be action based.

✎ yandere! writer who prevents you from helping that train passenger who got shot by a tall and handsome cat human hybrid. oh... so it looks like you weren't the only creation that came to life. it looks like everything jumped out of the books... welp! time to head back home where the both of you will be safe! and just like that, bam, you got knocked out and he dragged you to his home where you'll stay forever.

✎ yandere! writer who locks you in his room, never allowing you to leave while an apocalypse goes on outside. you can't even escape, this man knows all of your weaknesses! he's your creator after all. all you can do is hope that some god takes pity on you and curses your creator to fall out of love with you. but I doubt that'll be happening anytime soon, your creator is the writer of this book too after all.

✎ "y/n! you can't go out! you'll die! you can't die! writing your first death in chapter 7 already made me more than traumatized! so just... just stay with me here, we'll be safe. I promise."

#yandere #tw yandere #male yandere #yandere blog #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere writer #yandere writer x reader #yandere x reader headcanons #yandere writer headcanons

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zeplerfer · 11 months ago

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USUK Fics of 2023

Instead of the usual Christmas fic recommendations, I've decided to highlight some delightful USUK fics that were written or updated in 2023. Read and enjoy!

Canonverse

caressed by thorns by aiwendor - America's soulmate mark is a rose.

Flutter Notes by DemonicPiano - England receives love notes from a secret admirer.

I Wish That We Could Be Real Too by tangerine_machine - America is an expert on taking drunken England home. Too bad they both suck at confessing their feelings.

In the Trenches by PromiseOfGrayskull - England and America share a fag and discuss love.

Cardverse

Crescit Eundo by Orestiad - Two squabbling royal princes finally find romance as young adults.

The Only One for Me by aiwendor - Prince Alfred is forced to hold a ball to help him find his queen.

Rewind by BritishShinshi - Queen Arthur pays the price for saving his King's life.

Drunk with your Love by CharlotteKensington - The King of Spades confesses his feelings after too much wine.

Fluff

1-800-DIAL-A-HERO by AveryBlair - Super villain!Arthur has to call a foe for help.

Fell Off by amine - Alfred and Arthur are a couple of YouTubers in love.

With Golden Hairs, Our Stolen Hearts by WhyHowdyThereExtras - Arthur is jealous of Alfred's new puppy.

Flirting

The (not-so-charming) Prince Charming by WhitRewritesCanon - Alfred swipes right and starts dating a prince.

and sugar, we're going down swinging by nyoengland - Alfred does a photoshoot with the sexiest member of a British boy band.

Fake Boyfriend

Limited time offer by CharlotteKensington - Alfred rents out his dating services to make some quick cash.

I Know What You Want (From Me) by ixiepixie - Alfred needs a fake boyfriend to deal with his family.

Inspired by a TV series

Wayfaring Strangers by Orestiad - Alfred is humanity's last hope for a cure during the zombie apocalypse and Arthur is the one in charge of keeping him alive. Based on the Last of Us(UK) ;)

The Season by hetaswag - Lord Arthur Kirkland is an eligible bachelor during the social season teaching a handsome American how to be a gentleman. Based on Bridgerton.

Sexy Smut (USUK)

Simple Chemistry by Orestiad - Alfred suffers from some kind of alien Viagra toxin and Arthur is the cure. Star Trek AU.

cast all your spells on me by flybynight - Alfred needs help from a powerful and very sexy sorcerer.

Pinned in Place by gummycola - The Demon King imprisons a sexy incubus for funsies.

Just Desserts by haleydawnisaur - America distracts England from baking with sex.

Punk Smut (UKUS)

A Closer Look by alifeasvivid - Arthur's tattoo earns him an admirer on the Tube (and in bed).

All According to Fantasy by WhyHowdyThereExtras - Punk Arthur picks up his diner waiter.

#usuk #ukus #fic recs

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nepthys-merenset · 5 months ago

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I got this idea for Dmitry and Lane's first kiss in my head, and basically couldn't rest until I got it out of my head. Sooo...here you go--my first fanfiction in literal years. Enjoy my delulu dreams!

Title: "A Search for Understanding"

Pairing: Lane x Dmitry [Heaven's Secret: Requiem]

Word Count: 1,595

Rating: T

Taglist: @rc-catalog

TW: Mild blood, mutual roughness.

“Sit.”

His keen blue eyes tracked her every movement as his voice, cold as ice, shattered the silence in the room. She closed the door gently, as if she could appease him by treating his office with care, and crossed the room, sinking into the chair in front of his desk. He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest, surveying her silently. Waiting.

Unconsciously, her eyes swept over the desk. Spartan in its cleanliness, it showed that Dmitry—the General, she corrected herself, she had no right to familiarity with him—truly was a military man through and through. Three manila file folders, a letter opener, and a lamp were the only items on its surface.

Her gaze lingered on the letter opener.

Just in case.

*****

Dmitry had been a military man all his life, long before hellfire rained from the sky and the Horsemen of the Apocalypse walked the earth. The structure made sense to him—added order to his life. As the cataclysms worsened, military discipline and protocol went from rule of law to suggestion to mere relics of the past, but vestiges of the chain of command remained. He clung to the remnants, the last bits of his old life, even as his squad dwindled.

Some deserted, deciding to spend their remaining days with their families. Others were killed. Still more simply vanished, lost to the frozen wasteland.

The files of three such soldiers, their careers tersely summarized in manila folders, lay on his desk. One, he would unseal and finally label “killed in action” when he finished with Lane. Two others were still labeled “missing in action,” a hopeful gesture that he found increasingly inappropriate with every passing day.

He leveled his gaze at Lane. Things had made sense until that goddamn angel had pulled her from the Rift and forced him to save her life. No matter what new nightmare the apocalypse brought, no matter what thinly veiled resentment the immortals showed him on a daily basis, the chain of command between him and the human members of the squad made sense.

He was responsible for Anna, Greg, Lester, Nick, Noah, and the rest of the squad, and he trusted without question that they would obey him. That they respected him as a leader and wouldn’t turn on him.

But you—I can't trust you.

Lane unsettled him. Confused him. He found himself studying her often, trying to find meaning in her fleeting expressions and subtle glances. Sometimes, he could have sworn he saw a glint of red in her eyes, but he forced that thought down whenever it came to him. That was impossible, and besides—he couldn’t possibly be watching her closely enough to notice a thing like that.

Clearing his throat to attract her attention, he flicked the file on top of the pile open and roughly turned it in her direction. “Noah’s file. Years of immaculate service.”

A quick glance—brown, he noticed—before she looked down at the file. His gaze wandered to her lips, following their minute movements as she read.

Stop it.

“No issues worth documenting with any other squad members. And you claim he suddenly attacked you and Boris Romanov with a knife.”

More silence. She only frowned and shook her head slightly, as if to say, I already told you everything.

He cracked, slamming his open palm down over the file. “Explain yourself! What happened in that room?”

She looked at him fleetingly, before her gaze turned left, towards the letter opener—

My gun. She went for my gun the last time—

A quick rustle of fabric as she moved, and he exploded into motion, reaching for her.

*****

One push.

One push, and she would have the letter opener and her freedom. She launched herself upwards, out of the chair and onto the desk. One knee landed on the desk, the other foot planted firmly on the floor as she grasped wildly for the letter opener.

Her hand closed over it and she brought it to his neck just as his hands closed, viselike, over her wrists. She froze, her hand trembling as the vein below the letter opener pulsed with life.

One push and the life of the man who had saved hers would end.

Indecision paralyzed her. She would be free, but she would be alone. Without the one man who had managed to read her like a book and given her a place in this new world, however begrudgingly.

The blade shook, drawing blood. Her eyes strayed downward.

Red, she noticed. Not like mine.

Unwilling to either continue or relax her grip, she raised her eyes, meeting his cold blue stare. His hands loosened on her wrists but didn’t fall. There would be bruises tomorrow. Of that much, she was sure.

“You could do it,” he murmured, barely moving his lips. His life was in her hands, just as the key to unlocking her past could be in his. “But where would you go from there?”

Anywhere. Or nowhere.

She couldn’t say why she dropped the letter opener, or if it was even a conscious decision. Maybe it was a decision spurred by her longing for connection. Maybe it was the ephemeral memory of the night he’d helped her with her work. Or maybe it was her lost humanity, locked deep below layers of confusion and apathy. But regardless of reason, the blade slipped from her fingers, clattering to the desk with a lingering sense of finality.

Something had changed between them.

They moved as one, both filled with longing—one to understand why she couldn’t take that final step towards freedom, the other to understand why she was the one thing that disrupted the painstakingly maintained order of his life.

He stood, locking his arms underneath her as she raised her other leg, kneeling on the desk. Kicking his chair aside, he turned, pushing her roughly against the window as they thought, unaware, in sync—

I need to understand you.

Her hands tightened around his neck, bringing more blood—red—to the surface. As his life flowed over her fingers, their eyes met—brown and blue. Keen, both searching, both beginning to find what they sought. Answers.

There was nowhere else to go. The room was filled with a sense of inevitability as their lips crashed together in a demanding kiss. She gasped, a tiny little noise, as warmth flowed through her. Her fingers, sticky with his blood, tingled as she locked her hands behind his neck and forgot herself in his embrace.

Is this what it was like before? Before the Rift?

She felt like she was closer to understanding what she had lost—what she may have experienced before those three years had vanished from her life. In his arms, she felt the closest to alive than she had since Cain had pulled her from the Rift. Like a person who actually mattered to someone.

He grunted, adjusting his grip as her back rubbed against the cool glass behind her and her legs wrapped around his waist. He bit her lip sharply. Blood trickled down her chin as she gasped again, tangling her hands in his hair and pulling once, twice. First experimentally, then with force. All the while, their searching lips moved against each other.

A deep, appreciative sound rumbled through the General as he turned again, thrusting her back onto the desk without care. Blood dripped onto the covers of his missing soldiers’ files, marring his perfectly kept records. He didn’t care. He needed to understand her, and he knew he was getting closer.

One arm swept out, clearing the desk, and the lamp flew to the side and shattered against the wall. Consciousness returned along with the crash, loud and abrupt.

With a groan that felt like acknowledgement of the madness that had gripped them, Dmitry pulled back. Lane fought for breath, touching the blood on her chin. Both stared at the broken lamp, its shards glinting reproachfully in the dying sunlight.

What have you done?

He was still the man whose orders she may have to defy one day, the man she may have to betray eventually, to unlock the mysteries of her past.

She was still the woman who may have caused the disappearance of two of his soldiers.

And he was still her superior officer, a man with no order in his life except for the chain of command. His only remaining oath as a soldier.

She hardly dared to move, but she still slid from the desk, and they stepped away from each other. Her hand over her mouth, his hand on his neck. Breathing hard, eyes cautiously trained on each other. Their connection was undeniable, unavoidable, but the distance seemed insurmountable.

He deliberately looked away from her and said flatly, “we’ll discuss this later.” In a vain attempt to convince her that he meant her squadmate’s disappearance, he gestured at Noah’s file, askew on the floor, before dismissing her. “Go back to the estate.”

She didn’t believe him—she knew he wasn’t thinking about Noah right now—but she grasped at his words like a drowning woman would at a life preserver. She wasn’t ready to explore what had happened, either. But even as she agreed, doubt swirled in her mind. Was he her barrier, or her key?

“Yes, General.”

As she left the room, she glanced behind her. Dmitry dropped heavily into his chair, his head falling into his hands. Light reflected off of the bloody letter opener, still lying just out of his reach, and the door closed behind her.

They would have to continue searching for answers later.

#romance club #romance club fanfic #rc hsr #rc lane #rc dmitry #rc lane x dmitry #lane x dmitry

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otto-apocalypse · 1 year ago

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Basically, Otto is the main antagonist of HI3. I said antagonist, because while a villain actively wants ill for the main characters, he doesn't want that. He was born in the XV century in Austria, and was the most frail and sickly kid, fifth born of House Apocalypse. He then mets Kallen Kaslana, who instead compliments him and believes in him, and from then on he idolizes her. When they were teenagers, they witness Kallen'a father die to save them, and since the oath of the Kaslana family states to protect the weaks, Otto is then terrified that Kallen will also die the same way. It's then that he unlocks Void Archives, trying to sacrifice his live to resurrect Kallen's father, but she stops him.

Ten years pass and Otto is willing to do anything, even less… ehtic things, to protect her. He also SINGLEHANDEDLY CURER THE PLAGUE. In the XV century. Then she finds out he's doing questionable things and that th Church of Schicksal, founded by the three noble familie Apocalypse, Schariach and Kaslana, is also very sus, nd she flees. In the East she meets Yae Sakura, and they fall in love. But Sakura become sort of a Herrscher (powerful emissaries of Honkai, the main threat of the world) and Kallen has to kill her. She then returns, and sends a letter of excuses to Otto (who never received it) stating that she was wrong to criticize him for what he did for her, when she did the same for Yae. Once back, Schicksal sends her to death, Otto tries everything to stop it, asking her in marriage as last resort (he's always been in love with her, but never confessed because he knew she didn't feel the same, and only wanted her happy). But she refuses, saying that she doesn't want to live if it means being someone else's puppet. So Otto, as the very last resort, asks for help his older sister Risa, who with their newphew was aiming at gaining power over Shicksal. She help, by releasing Honkai beasts during Kallen's death sentence. She tries to protect the people, and ends up dying.

Otto kinda loses it for a while, goes around opening orphanages and taking care of kids, helps the rebellion take Schicksal back from Risa (who was doing even worse experiments), and ends up travelling to the East, to seach for that Immortal who defeated even Kallen, the strongest valkyrie, hoping to find a way to revive Kallen. He mets Sushang, stuff happens, this is the untranslated, unfinished Seven Swords visual novel (where he gets called Raksha and has an outfit similar to HSR) Thanks to VA, he's pretty much immortal himself, but can't revive the dead

For 500 years he protects the world from Honkai. Valkyries exist thanks to him. If humanity managed to fight off Honkai it's thanks to him. All the technologies that allows Valkyries to fight are thanks to him. In the fifties he tries to clone Kallen, and has the clones fight each other, and one refuses to kill another. This clone is Theresa Apocalypse, which he adopts as his grandaughter, and the other is Amber (his secretary). At the same time, the First Eruption happens, and Welt Joyce is the Herrscher of Reason. This is the plot of the Anti-Entropy visual novel. In summary Welt Joyce (welt is literally the german word for "world") is on the side of humanity, but Void Archives does some tricks, and Otto ends up killing Joachim Nokianvirtanen's father, who inherits the core of the Herrscher of Reason from the dying Welt Joyce, thus becoming Welt Yang (Yang is from his mother). Yes, our Welt Yang.

Fast forward in the '90s, the Second Eruption happens, with the Herrscher of the Void, Sirin. They fight, yadda yadda, stuff happens, Welt dies but then resurrects, and not without difficulty humanity manages to kill Sirin. Otto keeps the cores of the Herrchers, because he tries to find a way to make Herrshcers on the side of humanity. At this point, his plan is still to be able to capture the power of the future Herrscher of Death and use it to resurrect Kallen. But an encounter with the Will of Honkai, suggest that this is not the way.

Meanwhile a few years earlier, a descendant of the House Kaslana, Siegfried, has met Cecilia Schariac, they end up together and have a kid, Kiana. Cecilia ends up sacrificing herself to save all Siberia from Herrshcer of the Void, and while she was conscious of this, it was literally her choice, Otto made Theresa, her great friend, think that he killed her with a nuke. Otto tries to find a way to control HoV powers with clones of Kiana, and one of these clones succedes. Little Kiana, of roughly 10 years, decides this clone in a tube must be saved, so her and her father sneak into Schicksal to steal it. Things go horribly wrong, and Kiana gets left behind, almost dead. Otto saves her, and since she doesn't remember anything, gives her the name Bianka Ataegina, aka Durandal. Meanwhile Siegfriend is with Kiana clone, and he gives her the name Kiana, grows her for a while and then leaves to avoid her Sirin personality to emerge. She then goes to school to become a Valkyrie and meets Mei and Bronya. When Sirin ends up awakaning, Otto kidnaps her to Schicksal flying HQ (had she awoken at the school, it would've been a massacre).

She fights, and Himeko's sacrifice awakens Kiana's humanity. She hides away for a while and other stuff happens to other characters. Meanwhile Otto has discovered, also thanks to Su from Previous Era and Durandal, what he has to do to resurrect Kallen. You see, he witnessed many, many parallel universes, and Kallen ALWAYS dies (this is a nod to GGZ).

But to enact his plan he needs HoV powers, and Kiana won't help him willingly. So he devises a plan: in Kolosten, the old Schicksal HQ, he calls everyone. He sends a threat: he's going to reverse time, everyone who's currently in Kolosten will be safe, but everyone else outside will simply cease to exist as time gets reverted back to when kallen was alive. He taunts them all to come and stop him. This is actually a bait, and also his plan B. If the girls couldn't stop him, they'd have no hope against Honkai and future dangers, so 500 more years would be needed. His main plan is to trick Durandal and Kiana to kill him using theyr powers, so he could trascend existence itself.

All the "traps" he devised were actually personalized to each girl and her power, a sort of training. They fight, he gets killed, and manages to reach the Imaginary Tree. There, at the cost of his existence, CREATES new braches of possiiliy to let Kallen live.

His morally grey character has the best writing I've ever seen. His love for Kallen is something so… wonderful, it doesn't fit into romantic nor sexual, he doesn't want her for himself, heck, he doesn't even get to meet her once she finally has a new chance at life. He just wants her happy and safe.

#otto apocalypse #honkai impact 3rd #honkai star rail #luocha #hi3 #hsr #honkai impact

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sachirobabe · 3 months ago

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Chapter 18

Satoru Gojo x reader

Wc: 2722

Cursless au

Summary: Amidst the zombie apocalypse, your courage shines as you not only saves lives but capture the heart of Gojo Satoru. Together with his first-year students, you all embark on a perilous journey, not only for survival but in a quest for a cure that adds a poignant layer to the unfolding romance.

<— Previous | Masterlist | Next —>

Taglist: @spindyl, @jaegersity

You blinked awake, your body heavy with the weight of reality. The moments from last night flooding your mind, you try to ground yourself and look at Satoru, but his bandaged wound was just another reminder of what you did.

Your hands shook as you gently pulled out of bed, feeling every part of your body react to the memories still clogging your mind. The memory of that moment, the moment you crossed a line that felt entirely different than killing zombies.

You forced yourself to tend to Satoru's wound, the feeling was hollow; a mockery of care. The color of the bandages blinded you, they were too white, too clean. Touching them felt like touching something pure, which you didn't feel deserving of.

As you look down at your hands, you see the faint remains of blood, it wasn't his blood. It was yours. Your nails had dug into your palms so hard that tiny crescents of red appeared.

"Shit." You hissed, the bandages on your palms burned as you wrapped them, a reminder that no amount of fabric could ever hide the stain of one's life being taken in your hands.

Geto and his gang were all monsters in their own right, but what did that make you? You could still remember the first time Satoru spoke of his plan to put an end to his ex-best friend's life. Back then, it made sense, it felt as if justice was going to be served. But now?

Now it felt like you were drowning in filth, you're tainted with what you've become. The guilt gnawed at you. Killing Mahito hadn't made you feel better, it left you feeling like the real monster.

"Don't forget that they've taken numerous lives. It was for the better." Satoru speaks up, he had been observing you for a few minutes and watched you get closer and closer to self destruction.

"Was it?" You ask weakly, was this how it was supposed to feel like?

"You've done nothing wrong." Satoru needs to get you out of this, it's hurting him seeing you put this much guilt and pain on yourself. "If you hadn't done what you did, Mahito would've killed us. Think of it as self defense."

"Geto's still out there." You remind. "People will still die."

"Less people," He pointed out, his body shifts in the bed and he regrets moving. "It had to be done, Y/n. As shitty as it feels, we're bringing more hope to humanity."

You were changing his iv bag when he stops you, a saddened look on his face, "Talk to me, sweetheart. I don't want you to go through this alone."

Tears brimmed your eyes, making it difficult to finish securing the new bag. Your hands trembled that the simple task felt impossible. Before you could gather yourself, Satoru gently pulled you towards him, his touch painfully tender against what you were feeling inside.

He wrapped an arm around you, his hand gently caressing the back of your head, fingers weaving through your hair. Your body, as if on cue, began to shake, soft whimpers escaping your lips, despite your efforts to hold them back.

His breath was warm against your ear as he hugged you closer to him, his own tension palpable as he realized everything that had happened. There was nothing he could do to stem the flood of emotions. His embrace tightened, trying to shield you from the darkness that clung to you.

Despite what he said to make you feel better, he too was hurting inside. Killing people was way different than killing zombies, he knew that, but it doesn't make it any easier to bear.

What helps him process these emotions far better than your state, is that he knows the world will better from those lives lost. He lost track of time, but when your cries come to an end, he realizes you've fallen asleep.

His lips softly press against your forehead, Shoko comes in a bit too loudly for his comfort and he glares at her, then makes sure you haven't stirred awake.

"Just bringing breakfast." Shoko whispers, "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine," He brushes her off. "Y/n's struggling." He sighs and with his free hand he carefully begins to eat, cautious of his movements to not reopen any stitches.

"Geto got away. Who knows where he went." Shoko moves around the lab.

"We need to find him. If he teams up with the other gangs, I'm not sure we'll make it out like we have been." Satoru sighs.

"You need to relax," Shoko looks at his vitals, "Your blood pressure is going up."

"I can't exactly be calm right now." He furrows his brows, but he knows she's right. He tries to think about anything other than the issues at hand.

You could hear what they were saying, being awaken during their conversation. Your head was pounding from your crying, which wasn't a surprise.

"Woah woah, baby, where are you going? Keep resting." Satoru moves and winces, holding his side.

"I'm just getting some water." You say, "Quit moving so much, you'll reopen your stitches—and I won't fix them."

"Ha ha. We both know you would." He says, Shoko finishes finding what she needed and leaves. "It's cause you love me, c'mon say it." You could tell he was smirking from just his tone.

You throw him a playfully glare over your shoulder as you swallow a few pills for your throbbing headache. Satoru sits up in the bed, mischief already dancing in his eyes as he pats his thigh invitingly, "C'mere, pretty girl."

"Nuh uh. I know that look." You can't help but smile, for just a moment forgetting your guilt and pain.

"What look? I'm just admiring the girl I love." He smirks, tossing the blankets aside, letting them fall to the floor.

It's impossible not to notice the growing tent in his sweats. You rolled your eyes, "Now's not the time, Satoru." You say, trying to pull your gaze away from him, but it's almost futile.

"See what you do to me, sweetheart?" His voice dips into a throaty groan, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

"I haven't even done anything," You retort, placing a hand on your hip. You're still wearing your scrubs from last night, hair in a mess, but despite that, Satoru looks at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"Just lookin' at you does this to me," He murmurs, his hand trailing down his chest, stopping just above his growing erection.

"This is way too out in the open for anything like that." You say, trying to convince yourself, no funny business in the lab.

"Shoko said my blood pressure is high. You're a doctor, you should know that ejaculating lowers that." He's trying his best to convince you, a playful glint in his eyes.

"You'll reopen your stitches, they're too close to your abdomen. If you flex or even move slightly, I'll have to restitch it." You warn, though it's taking everything in you to not give into temptation. "And don't say ejaculation." You cringe at the word.

He whines, a sound that's more desperate than playful as he moves his hand lazily over the bulge in his sweats.

"I promise, when you're all better, we'll find a right time." You assure him, your voice softer now, "There's too much at risk right now."

He pouts, but he knows you're right. He pulls his hand away and rests his arm behind his head, staring at the ceiling as he tries to banish the mental images of having his way with you.

Shoko walked back into the lab, unaware of the tension between the two of you, she gives a small smile and goes to check on the culture you had been growing. You give Satoru another warning glare, he doesn't seem too concerned as he flashes you a smile.

The two of you wear protective gear, Satoru was forced to be quarantined in his own little bubble as getting him into a hazmat suit was a lot of work and would likely tear the stitches.

"There's no bacteria growing." You say out loud, "That means bacteria isn't the primary pathogen."

Shoko smiles, "Correct. What else?" She encourages and you look deeper at the culture.

You hum and millions of thoughts ran through your brain. You slowly rule them out and give her another observation. "There's no growth under aerobic or anaerobic conditions, we can rule that out, too."

"You know your stuff." Shoko chuckles, "I'm impressed. I cheated through medical school, which is why I'm having to read a ton about the specifics."

You try to contain your own laughter, but it bubbles out of you and she grins. "You're joking, right?"

She shook her head. "If you don't believe me, ask Gojo. He helped."

"No way." You laugh, "I mean, you had to have had some sort of understanding to graduate."

Her eyes squinted as she laughed. It took her a few seconds to contain herself. "Fungi takes longer to grow than bacteria, so we'll have to keep a close eye on them still."

You hum, "If no fungi or bacteria has grown, we could be looking at a virus." Shoko writes down your words into her notebook and clicks the pen when she's finished.

"Looks like it's a waiting game again." She leaned back in her chair. "Who disinfected the lab last time?" She smirks, knowing it was her.

You groan as you grab the cleaning supplies, "You."

She's satisfied at your sighs and does her own thing to take her protective gear off and heads to the showers. Satoru pouts in his own bubble, watching as you clean and disinfect everything.

"I'm gonna die in here." He says, getting your attention. His arms are crossed, like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

"You're fine." You deadpan. "I'm almost done you big baby."

"Can I have a kiss when you're done?" His bored voice distracts you again and you sigh.

"I need to shower." You remind and he groans, throwing his head back. "Keep doing that and you'll get a conclusion."

"That means you'll have to keep your eyes on me 24/7. Sounds perfect to me, sweetheart." He smiles widely, he quickly gets distracted by his wound and lifts his shirt and peaks inside his bandages to reveal the red, still throbbing injury.

"Don't touch it." You sigh, "You're like a child, I have to monitor you every second of the day, otherwise you act out."

He pouts at your lecturing and puts his shirt back down, "That was my first time looking at it." He huffs, his hair moving as he looks off to the side, avoiding your gaze dramatically. "I've never gotten stitches before."

"Not too bad, right?" You say, remembering your first time getting stitches, which was a few months ago when you got caught on barbed wire. The thought alone sends a shiver down your spine at the reminded pain.

"I'll have a sick ass scar." His eyes found yours again, his earlier tantrum dwindling.

"We'll sorta be matching." You say, getting ready to head out.

He notices your movements and pouts. "Can't you take me to the shower with you? I gotta shower eventually, yeah?"

You nod, "Yeah, but we need to cover your injury. No water can get into it."

"So, I can come with?" He asks hopeful. "I'll sit and be quiet while you shower. Promise."

"Oh my—Satoru, I'm leaving." You laugh and he whines, his attempts at getting to watch you were now diminished—for now.

Oddly enough, you were starting to feel a little better about the whole situation as a whole. Of course, not every moment will feel like this, but it slowly will heal. The shower did wonders for you, clean body clean mind. If felt so refreshing to step out.

Now it was Satoru's turn to shower, which you were slightly dreading because you knew he was going to try some funny business, and you weren't sure if you could contain it this time. "This isn't comfortable." He says, his shirt was off and you were covering his injury.

"That's unfortunate." You answer, adding some finishing touches. Making sure it was waterproofed enough so he could wash himself.

"I think I need some assistance cleaning myself." He mischievously smiles.

You rolled your eyes at him, "Just don't lift your right arm and you'll be fine." You pat his chest twice and go to leave the bathroom.

"Wait!" Satoru calls out and you stop in your tracks.

"What's wrong?" You ask.

"Stay in here." He says, his eyes staring deeply into yours.

"What?" You felt your heart racing and your skin felt hot at the mere idea of seeing him naked. It's just now that you realize you haven't seen all of him.

"I want you to stay in here." He pleads again, his left hand finds itself on the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. His familiar lips on yours are something you think you'll never get used to. Every kiss with him feels like a first, filled with the same sweet anticipation and tender, fluttering emotions that make your heart feel like it's going to explode.

His touch is both comforting and electric, a gentle reminder that he loves you. It feels like that still hasn't settled in your mind either. "You don't have to watch me, but please stay." He mumbles against your lips.

"Okay." You shiver at his touch, your lips tingled and it feels like the moment is too short when he pulls away.

"I need some help." He says, his sweats were untied, but it was difficult for him to push them fully down. You nod and step close to him again, his scent filling your nostrils. You shut your eyes helped him step out of his sweats.

He thinks it's amusing to see you like this, he really couldn't care less if you looked at him. He was not ashamed of his body at all, if he had it his way, he'd force your eyes on him as she showered. A reminder that you're the only one who can see him like this, he's annoyed that he still can't have sex with you yet.

You step back until your hands touch the counter and you turn around. You thought it was safe to open your eyes, but the mirror above the sink was facing him as he turned on the water. You took a long stare at him, and looked off to the side quickly, feeling that it was wrong to stare.

Your heart was racing at seeing him fully nude. The mental image of him will be cherished in your mind and put away for safe keeping—only to be brought back out for special occasions.

You thought about his body the entirety of his shower. It wasn't fathomable how one could look so good so effortlessly. He really had no shame, nobody would if they looked like that.

"You're awfully quiet back there." He calls out, his voice alone making your thighs clench together.

"Just thinking." You vaguely say, hoping and praying he doesn't ask any further questions.

"Yeah?" He asks, "Care to let me in?"

You curse to yourself mentally, knowing how nosy and involved he likes to be. "The..um—" 'Think, Y/n, think!' You say to yourself in your brain, but your brain apparently wants you to look back at him and you glance in the mirror again.

This time, there was a cloud of steam on his lower half. He was careful as he washed his chest, he leaned his head back a little and shut his eyes, letting the warm water cascade down him.

He was too tall for the shower, and bent his knees a little so he could get the water on his face. "You alive, baby?" He calls out to you again.

"Yeah, uh—yeah, I'm okay." You lie, "I'm gonna step out for a little, I think the warm air is making me feel funny." You lie again.

"Okay, I'll be finished in a few." He reluctantly lets you step out.

This was going to kill you.

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