#divider by :: benkeibear

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your bestfriend, satoru, sends your cheating boyfriend a rather explicit video of the two of you as revenge.

tags. best friend!gojo satoru x female reader. smut, pwp. dōggy style. dirty talk. crēampie. reader gets called ‘pretty, angel, baby’. cheating. consensual fīlming. anon req.

“mmshiit, should’ve fucked you long time ago,” satoru hisses, his hips stuttering against the plump flesh of your ass. he’s unable to stop himself now that he’s got his pretty best friend underneath him—in a sinful position he has only had wet dreams of.

one moment you’re crying because of your cheating boyfriend and the next you’re getting your guts rearranged by your bestfriend who comforted you through it all.

your mascara stains satoru’s pillow, your drool doing the exact same. you’re acting like a total slut for his cock, mewling for him to give you more, to give it to you faster and harder. all of which is caught on tape.

“yeah? want more, baby?” satoru coos as he holds up your phone with one hand. his other one is gripping the side of your hip—keeping your ass perked up so he can continue hitting that right spot inside of your greedy cunt. the white-haired man snickers behind the camera, “c’mon—tell your boyfriend just how much y’ need your best friend’s cock.”

you know satoru’s filming himself hitting it from the back. it’s nasty, but it only serves to excite you. you know your ‘boyfriend’ will be enraged once he receives the erotic video from you. he’s never liked satoru neither, always preventing you two from meeting each other. which was a red flag by itself.

you’ll show that hypocritical bastard.

“need more, ‘toru, please—” you babble, your voice muffled by the pillow. your body jerks with each hard thrust. every move is made with precision, with the intention of pleasuring you until your insides remember the shape of his dick only, “fuckk, ‘tis too big.”

satoru grins smugly. you’re basically admitting that he’s way bigger than that excuse of a man you’re dating. his ego gets a huge boost and it shows when he drives his throbbing cock deeper into your tight cunt.

“awwh, i know, but i bet my sweet girl can take it,” your best friend encourages you through a raspy voice. the fact that he called you his ‘sweet girl’ drives you insane. your pussy squeezes around his cock in response.

satoru’s eyes nearly roll back from the way you’re gripping him. he moves his other hand around your hips until his fingertips find your clitoris. he over stimulates you until you’re crying of pleasure.

you end up clenching around his fat dick even more. it feels like you’re trying to snap his cock in half with how much you’re sucking him in. there’s not a chance of it slipping out of you.

satoru moans loudly without any shame, letting both you and your boyfriend - who’d watch the video later - know how much he enjoys pounding your cunt like it’s actually his; “y’re so fucking tight. you sure your boyfriend’s been fucking you?”

you feel embarrassed by how much you’re enjoying his dirty talk. satoru’s drilling his cock into you so well to the point that you’ve forgotten all about the intimacy you shared with your cheating boyfriend. it was nothing compared to how satoru is treating you right this moment.

the white-haired man continues, still not believing that he’s finally living out his dreams. your body is heaven to him. satoru can’t help but whimper at the feeling your pussy sucking him in so desperately, “feels like your pussy hasn’t had any dick in a good while.”

the way you’re basically screaming into the pillow is enough evidence to confirm that your boyfriend has never fucked you properly at all. that delicious arch of your back, that ass of yours bouncing back on his pelvis in circles. . . satoru just knows it.

you hiccup and try to speak. you know your boyfriend is going to see the video and that only drives you to be more vocal than you already are. you’re going to get revenge and you’re going to make it as painful as possible.

“y-yeah,” you agree with satoru’s words. your words are basically slurred—too cockdrunk to properly talk. you lift your head up for a second to breathe and continue your whiny babbling between moans, “he’s n-never fucked me as well as you—ngh!”

your voice is perfect. everything about you is. satoru isn’t sure if he’ll even last long like this. he wants to claim you as his girl already. he wants to thrust his cum as deep as he can inside of you so you’ll only think of him.

“poor, poor baby,” satoru pouts and rubs your ass gently as he watches it bounce back at him with every thrust. the view is hypnotising. he cannot grasp the fact that your boyfriend fumbled such an amazing girl like you, “it’s okay. i’ll make it up to ya, mhm? i’ll treat you like a real man would.”

you nod and whimper in agreement, which gives satoru the green light. you’re going to be his at the end of this session. he’s going to claim you as his—finally—after all those years.

you feel yourself start to tremble. you feel tingly all over and your moans are getting louder. the curve in satoru’s dick is making your mind go blank. it makes his tip hit the deepest spots inside you, the right spots. you’re desperately searching for that sweet release.

“aht, aht, angel,” satoru clicks his tongue whilst deepening the arch of your back. his fingers trace the shape of your spine, feeling you shiver from the touch as he pounds you silly. “hold it in, yeah? need you to cum for me when i do. wanna fill this cunt to the brim.”

you try to hold on the best you can. after a couple more thrusts, satoru’s breath turns shaky and his noises turn into whimpers—a sign that he’s on the edge, “fuck fuck fuck fuck! baby- ‘m gnna cum!”

you gasp and your body spasms and squirms as you reach your climax at the exact same time. you feel your cunt being flood with spurts of semen. it’s so much—as if satoru’s been storing all of it just for you.

“there there. such a good girl,” satoru sighs and pulls out of you after making sure that you’ve settled down. he takes his dick out as slowly as possible, pointing the camera right at the lewd sight. his entire length is coated with a mixture of your slick and his white cum.

you shiver at the feeling of being left empty. satoru soothes you by pushing his cum back into your pussy with two long fingers. he films the entire process, focusing on your stuffed hole for a few seconds before putting the phone up.

satoru points the back camera at the both of you, getting the entire view of the messy bed. he grins and puts a peace sign up—ending the video with a mocking yet cold smile that’s directed to the man who’s going to be watching this video soon, “should’ve treated her better.”

oh, your boyfriend is going to be fuming. deserved..

[nmn-yty]

— ๋࣭ ⭑࿐ constellations ｡o♡⋆˚｡⋆.

pairing: lee know x reader

summary: you find a lonely bunny who needs a home

tags: 「SFW! fluff! | hybrid!lee know | referring to lee know as minho | soft!lee know (he's so needy) | cuddling and a small kiss | winter vibes | lots of plot (mb get immersed) | knife appearance | reader has no gender」

word count: 2.6k

a/n: i never thought i would see myself writing about lee know, but he has been wrecking me a lot(◞_◟) cute fluff for you lee know stans :3 please forgive me if i write anything that is out of character for him (also happy to see you all liking hybrid stories!) this story is kinda rushed too, i didn't want to make it too long, enjoyyy!!!

+ stylized lowercase, missing punctuation (not done on purpose), and minimal to no revisions

the usual trail you walk along has now been covered in a thin layer of snow. this trail has been your secret guide since forever. it's a shortcut that leads to an open flower field, where you can lie down and enjoy the nature around you. seeing this field in winter is a bit depressing, as all the flowers have died and have been faced with the cold winds and snow of winter. you take this path from time to time, just to remember what used to be there.

you've encountered animals a few times in this area. the occasional birds, squirrels, and even deer have all been amazing sightings to see. however, you didn't expect to see a white bunny practically running towards you this day.

"hey little guy," you cooed to the bunny. he stares at you with big eyes, twitching his nose and ears perched up and alert. this is your first encounter with a bunny and you wanted to see how friendly it was.

you reached your hand out slowly so he can smell you first. he hopped closer to you, giving you a sniff before staring back at you. this gave you the chance to pet his fur once, brushing the snow off with your glove. he started to close his eyes and nuzzle into your warmth. you didn't know if this was normal behavior for a bunny, but you were glad that you got to pet him.

"you are the cutest thing ever, but i really have to go. bye bunny!" it was sad to leave him all alone on that path, but he surely had a home to get back to. you didn't realize it at the time but you dropped one of your soft gloves that you kept as a spare pair in your pocket. he grabbed the item in his mouth, ready to hand it back to you, only for you to be no where in sight.

he snuggled with the glove by a nearby bush, hoping that you would return quickly to get him back.

running through the trail, retracing your steps, all you could think about was that cute bunny you met the other day. the weather was worse today, the winds rising and snow falling rapidly. holding your hand up to your forehead to protect your eyes, you start to dig in the snow. you thought the glove might be buried under the piling white ground.

suddenly you hear soft imprints on the snow, the same bunny you met slowly approaching you. squinting hard, you could make out the glove held in its mouth, you sighed in relief.

"my glove!" the bunny stopped in its tracks, dropping the item. you walk up to where he stood, grabbing the glove with your freezing red hand, putting it on. it was such a miracle that he kept it safe for you, maybe he needed it for himself. you pet the bunny quickly, brushing the snow off his fur.

as you began to take off, you heard more imprints on the snow. was he following you? you turned around to see him nestling near a bush. you smiled at him, assuming that his home was near. you started to walk again but the cycle repeated, him being inches away from you.

"do you want to come with me, bunny?" you called out to him. you stared at him when your words made him stand up on his back legs, ears shot upward. it's almost like he understood clearly what your words meant. it kinda scared you, but you were happy that you had a chance of taking him home.

you reached over to pick him up, his pink nose began to take in your scent. you had him tucked in one arm, while the other one protected his fur from the snow. you brushed away the snow that made its way on to his body from the wind. his eyes were shut now, ears tucked down. you made your way back to your house as fast as you could.

the wave of heat from your house when you opened your front door came rushing in. it felt so good to not be out in the snow storm. you tried to shake off as much snow from your body as you can, the snow falling on to the mat at your feet. you set the bunny down gently for a second, trying not to wake him up. taking off your coat and boots were also a relief to your body, the restrictive clothing starting to condensate from being in a warm environment.

you reached over to pick up the bunny again, only for him to flinch awake, looking around at his new surroundings. he hopped around for a bit, still leaving small amounts of snow on your floor. you let him explore a bit while you ran upstairs to get a towel.

you found a clean towel and reached the main floor. you tried to look for the bunny but he was no where in sight. this started to worry you, had he caught himself in a place where he shouldn't be? "here bunny bunny... where did you go?"

your voice became an instant wave of peace in his ears, as he came running back to you from the kitchen.

"oh you must be hungry. ill try to find you some food, but first let me dry your body, okay?" you picked him up again, taking a seat on your couch with the towel. wiping him dry became a quick task, he already shook off most of the snow from moving around your house. you would have to mop up the floor later but that was a problem for future you. once he was all dry, you pet him once again, making him twitch his nose and close his eyes in comfort. you couldn't believe you had a real bunny inside your house. sure there were strays that roamed around your house from time to time, but they never came close to coming inside. you usually left food for them outside your house, maybe giving them a few pets if they're nice to you.

it all felt surreal, illegal even. you wouldn't have taken him in if he didn't follow you. plus, the storm was getting really bad out there, maybe he didn't have a good place to keep warm.

you set him down on the cushion next to you and headed for the kitchen. you looked into your fridge for some lettuce, taking two leaves and washing them quickly. you heard a hard thump from the living room, maybe he was exploring your house a bit more. you hoped that nothing bad had happened while you looked away.

walking out of the kitchen, your heart drops as there was a man sitting on your couch. you quickly turned back into the kitchen, not even sure what to do next. your hands were shaking and you dropped the leaves, thankfully not making a sound. you started to tear up, how did this strange man get into your house? although at first glance he didn't look harmful, you quietly grabbed a knife from the counter.

peeking your head back to the living room, you can finally make out the man's appearance again. he's wearing a black hoodie with sweatpants. he had dark brown hair that covered his sharp eyes slightly. he was hugging one of your throw pillows you had lying around. he looked almost animated, the way his eyes blinked as he gazed around your house. his nose also twitched from time to time, it was actually quite charming.

getting back to the problem at hand, you jumped into the living room and held the knife out with a strong grip.

"who are you and how did you get in my house?"

his expression was blank. he blinked a few times before choking out a response.

"my name is minho, im your bunny."

you stared at him in confusion, was he on some sort of drugs?

"what the hell is that supposed to mean? did you do something to my bunny? where is he?"

you turned slightly to look around for your bunny, he was no where to be seen.

"i told you," just before he could finish his sentence, he disappeared, and your bunny from outside appeared and took his place.

you dropped the knife and ran over to where he was sitting. at your knees by the couch, you took him in your arms. "where were you?" you could feel the tears start to roll down your cheeks.

in a sudden flash again, the bunny was gone, and now you were embracing the same stranger who claimed to be your bunny. you looked up at him, your throat becoming narrow making it hard for you to breathe. you couldn't believe what just happened. was he some type of monster? you were frozen in place, scared that he might do something to hurt you.

"it's just me, you dont need to look so scared."

you could finally feel your heartbeat starting to fall back to a normal pace. it felt like an impossible scenario, but there was no other explanation to what you just witnessed with your own eyes.

"m-minho. that's your name?"

he nodded and gave a small grin. he wasn't so scary anymore. looking into his eyes, you can see they were the same dark eyes from the bunny you took in today. it really was him. even though they were huge and dark, you could see the lights sparkling in them, almost like stars.

"how is this even real, am i dreaming?"

just as you uttered those words, another flash revealed his in between form. he still had the body of a human, but cute bunny ears popped out from the top of his head. you couldn't see it right now but you could assume he had a bunny tail too.

"nope, this is all real."

you felt dizzy again, witnessing something that couldn't be explained. you got up off the floor and sat next to him, grabbing the pillow he was grabbing when you first saw him. it was still warm, you held onto it extra tight for some comfort.

"do you still have that food you promised me? im starving."

"oh right," you got up and set the pillow aside. "do you still want that lettuce? or are you allowed to eat other foods while being... human?"

"all foods are fine while being human, although i prefer to not eat any meat, if you dont mind."

"right, still a bunny. okay let's see what i have."

you walk back into the kitchen thinking about the food you could give him. it was getting pretty late, almost time to fall asleep, so you wanted to offer something light. you grabbed two small bowls, pouring some cereal, and grabbing milk from the fridge. placing the spoons in the bowls, you quickly headed out, sitting back down and handing him the cereal.

"it's getting late, i hope this is enough for you."

he grabbed the bowl and held out the spoon in a strange way, barely able to get a good grip. the shaking spoon slowly made way to his mouth. a few crunches in and he moaned in delight. his eyes were sparkling, he probably hadn't eaten in a while. you started to eat your cereal too, moving the milk around.

"time went by fast huh?" you took the bowls back into the kitchen once minho was done with his food.

"im going up to sleep, we can talk more in the morning okay? come with me for a sec"

you motioned for him to follow you upstairs. in a closet in your hallway you picked out your warmest blanket. you handed it to him and smiled, you could get used to having him around.

you headed towards your room and heard tiny steps following you. behind you minho followed, did he want to sleep with you?

"oh no, you have to sleep downstairs okay?"

those words stung in his ears. he looked really upset, and just as unprepared you were the last time, he scared you with a transformation. this time, he was a full on bunny again. you couldn't let your bunny sleep downstairs all alone, right?

you rolled your eyes in defeat and picked him up, petting his back gently. you could see him starting to doze off. he was the cutest thing in the whole world while being a bunny. he was also really handsome while being human, you started to get flustered thinking about the topics you were going to talk about in the morning. he had the type of face and energy that made you lose your train of thought and made you all dizzy.

you finally set him next to your small bed. you got under the blankets and stared at the sleeping bunny. his ears were laid down and his body was moving up and down lightly. you gave him light pets until you fell asleep, not letting him out of your sight. you hadn't noticed but he was playing dumb with you, returning your meaningful stares back to you while you didn't notice.

your body began to feel really warm in the morning. you hadn't opened your eyes yet but you felt significantly more snug in your bed. there was a feeling of comfort and protection around you. blinking your eyes awake, you wake up to a sleeping hybrid minho. he was facing you, his hand wrapped loosely around your waist. you couldn't help but become utterly flustered the moment you realized his hand placement. how did he transform while sleeping?

all you could do was stare at his calm expression and sleeping body. you couldn't believe you had someone like him in your bed right now. his ears were drooped down on the pillow, and out of the corner of your eye you could spot a small fluffy tail. your eyes weren't playing tricks on you earlier.

you reached over to his hand and slowly started to take it off your body. you guessed that bunnies were sensitive everywhere, because the light warmth of your hand made minho flutter his eyes open. he stared at you in confusion, almost like he was sad that you had plans of leaving him alone.

"relax, im just going to the bathroom okay?"

his face softened and he closed his eyes again, trying to get to sleep again. once you were done in the bathroom, you returned to a completely human minho. it's a shame because you swore that his hybrid form was the most cute form he could be in. full bunny form was close to being your first but it wasn't fun thinking about talking to yourself.

you sat on your side of the bed, reaching over to pet his head. he started to make light hums, a tiny smile appearing. he peaked up at you through one eye, waiting for the perfect moment to come close to you. he gently grabbed your hand and gave it a peck, making you gasp and look at him in awe.

"why did you do that?" you say while completely flustered.

"im yours, aren't i?" he didn't wait for your response and just snuggled onto your lap. you didn't realize it until later but minho really needed someone like you in his life. although everything seemed so rushed, he was glad that you were the person to stumble upon him in the woods.

you froze in place not wanting to disturb him. were you really the one in charge here, or did a cute bunny just make you lose control?

edit: thank you all so much for all the love><♡

part 2 is up now!!! click here!!!

© nmn-yty ★ 5.29.2024

[norman-fucking-reedus]

BEGGING ON MY KNEES FOR CORRUPTION KINK WITH DARYL YOU WRITE SMUT SO HEAVENLY😫😫😫

SWEET LITTLE SINNER

THE YUMMY STUFF: Age gap, (Daryl is in his late 50s, Reader in her early 30s) Creampies, breeding kink, fingering, bit of cockwarming, just smutty stuff, ...petnames 😇, semi-public?? guys they fuck in the church, virgin fem!reader, religious!reader, dont cancel me for this, but religion kink

DO NOT READ IF YOU THINK YOU'LL FEEL OFFENDED BECAUSE HOW YOU FEEL IS NOT MY PROBLEM

OKAY ANON I KNOW IM ANSWERING THIS REQ MONTHS LATER BUT BEAR WITH ME ALRIGHT 🎀

Im playing around with a new posting format and I honestly really like it so far! Im just literal dogshit at summaries so I don't necessarily bother with them (I mean at least I try) but eeeerm guys let me know if its cutie AND PLEASE LOOK AT MY BLOG PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I CHANGED THAT TOO

So after scrolling through the mounds of unanswered asks I have, I found this one and it reminded me of a conversation I had with my sister abt Daryl x a Christian girl who holds herself very high to her faith and has a deeper understanding of the bible

This takes place around the time they find gabriel, and somehow this ended up being a !greene reader, I also had to extend the church for... purposes :3

Believe it or not this is my first time ever writing corruption kink 😭 I got this request back when I was still fresh on tumblr and its been sitting ever since because I just didn’t know what to do (and I still dont)

southern gothic has me in a chokehold and I cant breathe

"Come on! Fight to the fence!" The sound of Rick's voice bellowed over the deafening clang of metal and ringing gunfire, rapidly taking down any walkers that shuffled within range as the men helped the women to climb over the fence first, Carl dropping down and catching all the weapons that were tossed onto the safe side.

Rosita crawled up the chain fence quickly, noticing that you were behind her when she was balanced right on top and extending a hand out to you. "Up and over" She lightly yet urgently joked, and you could only let out a small huff of air as you grasped her hand, and hauled yourself upwards, swinging a leg over to join her in scaling down the other side.

"Let's go! Move your asses!" Abraham shouted as he fired his gun, covering Rick as he made a break for the fence, the redhead man not far behind once the walkers had started to herd up. He threw the firearm over the fence and easily jumped onto half the fence, using a walker's head as a boost to fling himself over onto the other side.

As you and the others hastily gathered your belongings, no one dared to look back at the remnants of Terminus, trying to stay together as you all ran for a safe place behind Rick, expecting that he had some kind of miracle up his sleeve and would find a place to hunker down for a few hours, days even.

Despite the chaos and the destruction that surrounded you, you and the rest of the group hastily gathered your belongings, not daring to look back at the ruins of Terminus. Trying to stay as closely together as possible, you all followed Rick's lead as he dashed through the trees. He was the one who had kept the group alive for so long, and everyone was hoping that he could do it for just a little while longer.

After what felt like forever, you could feel the intense heat seeping into your skin and making your clothes stick to your body. Every step you took felt like a burden, with the fabric rubbing against your flesh. The air was thick with humidity, and you could feel the moisture clinging to your skin, making you feel sticky and uncomfortable. You glanced around at the other people around you, all of them appeared to be struggling in the heat, with their foreheads glistening with sweat and their breathing labored.

As you looked over at Daryl, you couldn't help but notice the solemn expression on his face as he kept his eyes fixed on the ground. It was clear that he had been struggling to come to terms with Carol's sudden disappearance, and had been much more withdrawn and reserved than usual. He seemed to be lost in thought, lost in his own world, and it was hard to know how to reach out to him.

"Right here," Rick spoke as he brought the group out to a small clearing that was surrounded by trees, briefly scanning the area before crouching down in the dirt and beginning to frantically dig.

Abraham scoffed, "Tha' hell are we still around here for?" taking a few steps forward as he analyzed and addressed Rick, watching the man pull out a blue duffel bag.

"Guns. Some supplies," He said bluntly, pulling the black zipper back and further exposing the bag's contents, multiple guns, and other hand-held weapons. "We go along the fences, use the rifles, and take out the rest of 'em."

"What?" Glenn gawked, staring at Rick in disbelief as he listened to the words spewing out his mouth, bouncing around uncomfortably in his head.

Rick started to pull out the variety of weapons one by one, not once turning to meet Glenn's gaze. "They don't get to live."

The latter pursed his lips and huffed, stepping closer to Rick as to get his attention. "Rick, we got out. It's over."

"It's not over till they're all dead." Rick growled, shaking his head.

"They are dead. That place is on fucking fire, crawling with walkers in every which way." Rosita spat, laughing in annoyance at Rick's stupidity.

You shake your head as Rick continued to pull items out of the bag, "We got lucky back there," you said, voice low and trembling. "It's not worth risking our lives by going back in" your eyes meeting Rick's in a plea for him to understand. "God doesn't always give us a second chance. Just play the hand you were dealt" The thought of going back into that walker-infested place made your skin crawl, and you couldn't understand why Rick was wasting his time.

"Does he think he could give me one?" A familiar voice spoke softly from behind your group, faces lighting up in surprise and joy as Carol lightly stepped through the forest, appearing from behind a tree with her signature smile tugging at her lips, stretching all the way up to her ears when all of Daryl's weight barreled into her frame, almost knocking her straight onto her ass with a shocked laugh.

Her unexpected appearance managed to lift the once extremely heavy atmosphere, now bright and bubbly as it was filled with smiles.

"Did you do that?" Rick questioned once it was his turn to hug Carol, not getting a verbal response but the cheeky smile painting her blood-covered face was more than telling. However, it didn't last long once she scanned over the entirety of the group. "You have to come with me."

Carol led the group through the forest and down the train tracks until reaching a small cabin hidden in the trees where Tyrese and sweet little Judith had been holed up waiting for her return, everyone watching as Sasha, Rick, and Carl sprinted towards them, each cradling their respective loved one. It was another emotional yet much-needed heartfelt reunion, especially considering that the last few weeks had been nothing but hell in a handbasket.

"We should get moving, the fire's still burning" The grey-haired woman suggested as she gave the tall, rising black smoke one last look over.

"Yeah. We need to go" Rick nodded as he took stared at the smoke, an unreadable expression on his face and in his eyes.

Daryl huffed slightly, "Yeah, but where?" glancing around the remote area.

"Doesn't matter. Somewhere far away from there."

It had been a long few days since the group had gotten somewhere far away from there, and a long few days since anyone had anything to eat. Stomachs were empty and energy seemed to only be decreasing, the hunger gnawing away at all of you.

As the sun slowly began to rise above the horizon, Daryl quietly made his way into the dense forest in search of something to eat. It was quiet, and peaceful as he gingerly and skillfully walked through the mess of vines and roots at his feet, blue eyes scanning the dirt floor for any sign of movement that might indicate the presence of an animal.

Oddly enough, it felt like he wasn't necessarily alone in these woods, glancing around and over his shoulder more than he typically would. Maybe it was just a nearby walker he could sense before he could see, but he knew way better than to believe something like that. His gut told him that there was someone else out here, and Daryl learned to always listen to his gut.

He instinctively raised his crossbow to be eye level, scanning the treeline as he took careful and quiet steps, moving from the west to the north and then east. There was a slight breeze that ruffled the leaves, tousled dark hair in his face, and flowed a dirty white skirt from a few feet from him, a tiny but audible gasp heard.

It had come from behind a thick collection of bushes, Daryl carefully combing them out of the way with one hand and ducking to prevent anything from getting in his eye. He had a tight grip on his crossbow, ready for whatever potential danger could be on the other side.

Luckily for him though, there was no danger. It was just you, the weird and off-putting Greene who had somehow turned into a new interest for Daryl, not quite being able to put his finger on just what it was that drew him towards you.

You were a quiet, soft but strange Christian girl, much different than Maggie and Beth. Unlike them, you seemed to have some kind of spiritual connection to the bible, a deeper understanding of it that often made others feel oddly safe around you, as if you truly did have God protecting you.

Funny enough, it reminded Daryl of when his parents would drag him to the southern church, forcing him into the small confession box where he would sit and sob for hours, silently begging for God to come save him.

He could hear you softly murmuring something, but the full words didn't entirely reach his ears. You were kneeling in front of a large moss-covered log, hands clasped together with your head down, looking up every so often. He watched how every time you leaned back, your hair fluttered back and fell back into position.

Not wanting to be creepy, he decided to come out from where he had been hiding, a little taken aback when you seemed to not be bothered, as if you had already known he wasn't any sort of threat.

"Hell ya' doin' out here girl?" Daryl grumbled out, standing a few feet behind you. He watched as you repeated the motion with your head a few more times, eventually pushing yourself up off your knees.

You knocked the gathered leaves and a few bugs off your skirt, smiling at him softly. "Prayer. I come out here every mornin' for it"

He scoffed slightly, glancing down at the ground as he rolled a rock under his shoe. "Why bother? Not like s'gon get heard anyway"

“Yeah? We’ll see. I prayed we find a safe place today” You said as you brushed some hair our your mouth, wind starting to pick up in speed.

Daryl hummed, “Pray we also find some food?” flipping his own hair out his face.

“Of course,” You laughed slightly, airy and light. “But with you out here I think that’ll be answered”

The man scoffed again, this time ducking his head at your words. “Yeah right” He mumbled out.

“I mean it. Look, there’s a squirrel in that tree” You point to a nearby oak tree and Daryl follows your finger, pulling the trigger of his crossbow faster than you could even fathom.

The squirrel hit the ground, Daryl stepped over a few roots and bushes to pick it up, pulling the arrow out and tossing the carcass over his shoulder.

“Good eye girly. C’mon, guess yer God is gon help ya’ help feed us” He glanced at you from over his clear shoulder, motioning for you to follow him with a short nod of the head.

You followed as he walked through the thick mess of bushes, the green leaves staining your cowgirl boots as you stepped on them. The birds chirped loudly above head as the sun got higher and higher in the sky, the air starting to increase in temperature.

It was quite a nice walk through the forest regardless of the heat, Daryl making for much better company than you expected even though he didn't have much to say. You filled the silence by humming softly to yourself, staying a few feet behind and looking around the wooded terrain, keeping an eye out for animals and walkers.

Daryl paused for a moment, holding up a finger and then positioning his crossbow again. The weapon fired, and you watched as it struck another squirrel, this time pinning it against a tree.

He yanked the arrow out, sliding it back into the holder on the front of his bow and tossing the second squirrel over his shoulder.

"Need'ta get at least five," He said as he continued walking, glancing at you again from over his other shoulder just to make sure you were still there.

You scoffed slightly at his words. "Five?" You repeated, staring at the angel wings on the back of his vest.

Daryl nodded, peering up into the trees and looking around on the ground. "Yeah. Got a lotta people to feed"

"And you think five is the lucky number?" You joke lightly, a small smile tugging your lips as you stay hot on his heels.

He shrugged, squirrels bouncing with the motion. "Dunno. Depends on how many ya prayed for"

"Well, if you told me, I would've prayed for at least ten" You appeared at his side and bumped his arm with yours, his gaze meeting yours for only a split second before you were suddenly startled by Rick and Glenn's out-of-nowhere appearances.

They pointed their guns at both of you, and you put your hands up to show you weren't a threat. "Jus' catchin' some breakfast," Daryl said as he dropped his arms and nodded at Glenn in greetings.

"Ready to get some concrete under your feet?" Rick asked him as the four of you began to make your way out of the forest and back to the rest of the group, the day only getting hotter and hotter. "I think it's time."

Daryl hummed, a thin layer of sweat starting to form on his forehead. "That is sweet music to my ears, Officer."

"We take the next road we come to, try to get back to going north 'till we find a vehicle." Rick gestured slightly with his hand, gun still in his grip just in case.

You all stepped up the steep hill leading back to the road where the group had decided to set up a temporary camp for the night.

Rick meet Daryl's eyes, placing a hand on his squirrel-less shoulder. "Good?"

"Good"

"–And Father God, I once again call upon you to ask for a blessing, a miracle, an answer. You've got me so far, this group, I ask, will you continue to do so? Will you bestow us a safe place? A home?"

Back on the road once again. It was hot as the group ventured forward, worn down shoes and boots slapping against the burning pavement as you all conversed amount yourselves and entertained one another, Michonne and Carl in some form of competition while you lingered behind, Daryl nearby just in case a walker somehow nabbed you.

He silently listened to the soft whispering of your voice, the gentle lull you used as you spoke your prayers, walking with your head down and the palms of your hands facing towards the sky, almost reaching out in a sense.

There was a few questions lingering on his tongue, but growing up in the southern church Daryl had learned not to ask questions until after prayer. Hell, he had learned not to ask questions period.

Daryl only watched you out the corner of his eye, your plush lips moving slightly as you murmured. There was just something about you that was captivating, the fact that you were almost a mixture of Beth's sweet and softness, Maggie's stern and stubbornness, it made him curious to know what the third mysterious Greene had to offer.

"Amen" You mumbled a little louder than intended, clasping your hands together as you finished and concluded your prayer. You brushed some hair out your face when you lifted your head, catching a glimpse at Daryl's watchful eye.

He looked away when your gaze met his, furrowing your brow slightly with a small and playful smile. "What?" You appeared closer to his side and purposely bumped into him, watching how he staggered a little in his pace.

"Nothin'. Jus' hot as hell out here" Daryl shrugged slightly, sweat rolling down his face and back.

You hummed softly, "Hell is a lot hotter than this, but it is super hot. Just wish we could find a river or something" fanning your legs with the loose fabric of your skirt.

Daryl glanced at you, eyes dropping the flowing motion of the fabric. "Tryna' go swimmin'?" He questioned, because a dip in the cool river didn't sound that bad at all

"We weren't really allowed growing up, swimsuits were always super revealin' so we just stayed inside most summers" You shrugged, a tiny smile on your lips as you recalled past memories with your sisters, even if it was just sitting inside trashing the kitchen. "We weren't even allowed to wear shorts that didn't stop at the knees"

It made sense, ever since the farm you, Beth, and Maggie had always been more modestly dressed then the rest, never wearing something too short even if it was the only option.

But even then, as long as your skirt as, Daryl still couldn't help himself from picturing the entirety of your bare legs, a shiver coursing through him as he tried to wipe the image away as quickly as it had come. You were sweet, almost too sweet for him. He was damaged and tainted, you were pure and holy.

"My moms used'ta watch me 'nd m'brother when we went to the river behind our house 'cause I ain't know how'ta swim as a kid" Daryl forced himself to say, tearing his eyes away from the dingy fabric and looking anywhere that just wasn't where you were.

Of course, it wasn't it that easy, especially when you giggled at his sentence which almost caused him whiplash from how hard he snapped his neck at you.

"Sorry, sorry. Just– You didn't know how to swim? Even I can swim" You covered your mouth as you spoke through your laughter, cheeks starting to hurt a little from how hard you were smiling.

Daryl scoffed, the sound of your giggles being music to his ears. "Laugh it up girly. Won't be funny when I throw ya' in a river"

You did laugh even harder at that, maybe because you knew it might be true. "It'll be hilarious! Even more because you'll be the one finding me a new outfit"

"Jus' a little water. S'not like yer damn skirt s'gon wash away" Daryl rolled his eyes, watching as you fake a look of offense.

"How do you know that? It just might! Then you'd have to cover me up" You folded your arms over your chest, quirking a brow at the older man as he glanced you up and down.

"Maybe I don' want to" He mumbled with a short shrug of his mouth

"What do you want?" You asked with a small tilt of your head.

Daryl's lips moved way faster then his brain, and he found himself suddenly muttering out "Wanna see wha's under tha' pretty dress"

You stared at him for a little, and he wished he could just bury an arrow in his head now, but then you chuckled a bit, nudging his arm with yours. "That's a sin, Daryl"

The two of you fell silent, your words lingering in Daryl's mind as he focused his gaze down on the floor, his ears perking slightly when they caught the gentle sound of your humming, some kind of song that he had surely never heard before.

He didn't wanna admit that your voice was soothing and melodic, it almost reminded him of his mother when she would cradle his trembling body in her arms, bruised and bloodied as the soft vibrations of her humming buzzed through him, comforting him as he softly sniffled into her chest, clutching onto her shirt and wondering what it was that made him so undeserving of God's–

"Help!"

The scream of terror rang out from the forest to the woods, and you all looked around at each other as your movements halted, everyone turning in the direction they thought the cry had come from with their weapons drawn, you subconsciously inching closer to Daryl for safety.

"Help, anybody! Help!" The cries came again, this time audibly and undeniably from the left side of the trees.

Rick nodded his head, gun drawn and pointed as he dashed off the road and into the forest, the group all following closely behind as the screams and pleads for help didn't cease, getting louder and closer which drew the attention of nearby walkers, having to dodge and take out any that got too close.

"Anyone, help! Help!"

As you all sprinted deeper into the trees, the sound of snarling and clicking teeth began to mix and become more audible, eventually leading the group out into a green clearing where there was a... pastor cowering ontop of a large stone rock, slipping off and making a half-ass attempt at kicking the walkers.

There weren't that many walkers, but it was still enough to where Rick felt firing his gun was necessary. The gunshots rang out through the forest, and you covered your ears at the loud noise, wincing slightly as it bounced around uncomfortably in your head.

Daryl took out the last straggler with a hard stab of his knife, wiping the thick blood off his blade on his pants before he slid it back in his holster, appearing at your side as he analyzed the pained expression on your face.

"Ya' alrigh'?" He murmered softly, hands hovering over your face but not quiet touching it, almost as if he was restraining himself.

You nodded, uncovering your ears and glancing at the pastor on the top of the rock, Daryl and everyone else following your gaze.

He whimpered softly and quietly from where he sat, eyes frantically darting between the all of you as if you all were the threat.

"Come on down." Rick said in a loud, stern voice, taking a few steps forward in front as the group took a few steps back.

The man rolled on his stomach and awkwardly wormed his way down grunting slightly and crying out when he slipped the rest of the way and landed on his ass.

A few giggles erupted from you and Maggie, stifling your laughter in the same way you've both always done by simply turning your heads away from the source of humor.

Rick didn't seem too entertained though, glancing the man up and down when he stumbled to his feet and dusted himself off. "You okay?" He raised a brow, emotion unmoving and flat.

"Sorry. Yes, thank you. I-I'm Gabriel." He stammered out, his lips pulling themselves into a small an nervous smile.

"Do you have any weapons on you?" Rick titled his head as he asked condescendingly, taking another step closer to 'Gabriel.'

The man in question chuckled slightly. "Do I look like I would have any weapons?"

"We don't give a rats flying fucking ass what it looks like." Abraham barked out, and you could only nod your head in agreement.

Gabriel mumbled out some kind of understanding before he put on his best brave face. "I have no weapons of any kind. The word of God is the only protection I need"

At that you scoffed, covering your mouth in a fake apology. "Oh sorry, just that, didn't really look like God was protecting you now was he?"

Gabriel smiled nervously and awkwardly at your words, his eyes taking in your attire and the sparkly cross around your neck. "Well, he led a woman of your nurture here, so that must mean something right?"

"Oh of course. It means that you have something we want" You spoke softly, yet your tone was oddly dark. It somehow flipped the aura surrounding the group, replacing it with a heavy presence that just couldn't be explained.

"I-I have nothing to offer. Whatever food I- I had left, it just hit the ground." He glanced down at the ruin pile of whatever it was he had.

Carl stepped forward, fishing something out his pocket and holding it out to the pastor. "We've got some pecans, sorry if you're allergic" He partially joked, taking a step back and behind his dad.

Gabriel thanked him, dumping a few into his mouth and chewing. Judith cooed sweetly from where she rested against Beth, the mans eyes softening as he spotted her. "That's a beautiful child," He said, glancing around at just how many of you there were. "D- Do you have a camp?"

"No. Do you?" Rick asked without hesitation.

"I have a church." Gabriel mumbled, and your ears perked up at the sound of that. Daryl also noted the way your face lit up, while his twisted in distain.

Rick stuck his gun in the waist band of his jeans, aggressively grabbing Gabriel. "Hold your hands above your head."

"How many walkers have you killed?" He questioned, roughly patting the man down in search for any weapons.

"Not any, actually." Gabriel answered nervously.

"Turn around." Rick commanded and he spun the man, continuing his thorough search. "How many people have you killed?"

"None." Gabriel said as Rick spun him back around, narrowing sharp, quizzical blue eyes at him.

"Why?" He almost hissed the words out, whispering them out through the skin of his teeth.

Gabriel was silent for a moment, glancing at all of you before back at Rick. "Because the Lord abhors violence."

"We've all done something, we were all born as sinners. Nobody's perfectly pure." You spoke up from where you stood behind Daryl, shaking your head slightly. Daryl could argue with your words that you were the most perfect damn thing he’s seen, but he forced himself to keep his mouth shut instead. You were pure and holy, he was damaged and tainted.

He looked at you, slightly taken aback. Rick finished his search by nodding in confirmation that he was clear, taking a step back from Gabriel but not too far.

"I sin almost every day," He murmured out after a moment, scanning you all once more before his lips shifted into another small nervous smile. "But those sins, I confess them to God, not strangers."

"You said you had a church?"

You sat outside on the church step with all the other women, plus Gabriel, while all the guys stormed inside to do a thorough search of the building, in search of any weapons or any other people. Although Gabe claimed it was just him and himself, Rick didn't believe him and didn't want to take any risks.

It was quite peaceful, birds chirping above with a slight breeze that brought a little bit of cooling relief from the burning sun. Judith cooed softly in Beth's lap, shaded from the sun courtesy of Carl's hat, too big to properly fit her head but big enough to cover her body.

"I spent months here without stepping out the front door." Gabriel's voice cut through the blissful silence, and you tried not to shoot him an irritated glare. Rick came out first, followed by Daryl and then Glenn. "If you found someone inside, well, it would have been surprising."

"We found a short bus out back." Rick said, hands on his hips as he squinted from the harsh glare of the sun. “Nothing else besides that. I think we can settle down here for a minute”

“Shit ain’t settled ‘till we get Eugene’s ass to Washington” Abraham’s voice barked from behind the man, Eugene and Rosita following suit.

Daryl stood on the step above yours, and you turned to smile softly at him as his large frame blocked the scorching light of the sun from spilling down onto you.

He scowled in response, but only because he didn't wanna make his cheeks any more red than they already were. He turned his head away and decided to just blame the burning sensation on the Georgia heat.

Rick shrugged his shoulders as he dismissed Abraham. "Yeah, well, people are exhausted. This place has four walls and a roof. Safe. In other words, we're staying here."

"Sounds pretty good to me, I've slept inside a chapel before," You said as you twisted your head to look at Rick, glancing inside the church to get a glimpse at the size inside. "Plus we can all fit in there, so why not? We could even do our own version of 'The Last Supper' but with squirrel meat" You added, gesturing towards the string of squirrels Daryl had managed to catch on the journey here.

"That kinda does sound good" Beth smiled as she bounced Judith on her leg, the thought of eating meat making her really hungry. "And we can have a bonfire! It'll be even better 'cause we won't have to sleep outside after we put it out" She gasped slightly when the idea crossed her mind, sitting up a little straighter as she talked about it.

Maggie smiled softly at the two of you as you both made light of the situation, grateful that you had always been able to see the bright side of things and just simply brush things off, sometimes falling and scraping your knee but getting right back up to walk it off.

Out of the three of them, you had always had a much stronger connection to God even as a child, sometimes walking right out of Sunday school because you claimed the teacher "silenced" his voice. Growing up, you only continued to believe more and more, so much to the point that it almost worried Maggie, like you could always see something that she couldn't.

There were times when she found herself a bit envious of you, especially when you both had reached your teen years, Maggie starting to take a dive at rebellion and you still as perfectly holy as you had been at age five, wardrobe consisting of nothing but your pristine white clothes, and the same faded white cowgirl boots daddy had bought for you a decade ago on Christmas. He had gotten you all a pair to wear around the farm when dealing and riding with the horses, you and Beth wearing yours down to absolute hell.

By the time you were both in your early twenties, petty rivalry put aside years later replaced by constant gossip and the latest guy Maggie was going out with, she realized that there was no reason to envy you, because she didn't wanna be you. You were pure, holy, and kept yourself high within your faith, studying the Bible in a way that she sometimes couldn't even wrap her head around.

"We need supplies, no matter what we do next" Rick spoke up as he glanced around at everyone, watching Beth pass over Judith to you to sit in the shade Daryl provided.

Glenn nodded in agreement. "That's right. Food, water, ammunition, anything we can find"

You quirked a brow at Gabriel, glancing him up and down. "How'd you survive here for so long?"

He jumped slightly at the sound of your voice and stuttered as all eyes landed on him. "W- Well, I had God protecting me"

"No, you didn't. God doesn't protect, he watches" You rolled your eyes at him, as if this wasn't common knowledge.

Gabriel was taken aback by your response, mouth slightly agape as he scrambled to find a different answer. "Our annual canned food drive, things fell apart right after we finished-"

"That's great 'nd all, but Rick, seriously, we're gon' get heatstroke s sittin' out here in the boilin' sun" Maggie cut the man off, fanning herself with both her hands even as she was pressed up against your side, trying to hog the shade that you were already sharing with Beth and Jude.

Carol nodded her head in agreement, also dripping in sweat. "Yeah. You said it was safe, so why aren't we inside yet?" She gestured to the church.

"Alright, alright. Everyone inside. Let's cool off and rest our feet. We can discuss what's next later." Rick nodded and propped the church door open so that the group could easily fit through with all their stuff and guns, loud clattering as these things were dropped on the floor.

You followed after Maggie as she helped Glenn haul a bag inside, holding Judith on your hip as she sucked on her tiny fist. The way you held her almost looked natural, as if she was your very own. Daryl tried to pry his eyes away, but he just couldn't. He was drawn to you in a way he couldn't understand.

It bothered him in a way, the world had ended and you treated every day as if it was just an average day, as if dead people walking around was nothing more but an inconvenience. You were a carefree and buoyant spirit, as if your mind was consistently clear and levelheaded.

But it also intrigued him, how somehow someway in a world plagued with darkness that forces people to be tough and hard, you still manage to be soft and dainty, as if the plague hadn't even touched you once.

There was a combination of walker blood and mud splattered all across your white dress, some of it on your sleeves and your face, yet it didn't make you look any less tender, especially now as you seemed to sit cozily in the nave of the church, bouncing Judith on your leg as you softly hummed her a song.

Inside the church was fairly big, the back of it containing a few large offices that Rick deemed the safest the camp out in for the night, explaining that the doors had locks and that if someone were to break in everyone would hear and have plenty of time to wake up, claiming that everyone could sneak out the back door or just fight if need.

"The food lasted a long time," Gabriel said once the large wooden door creaked shut, other members of the group finding a place to settle down. "And then I started scavenging. I've cleaned out every place nearby, except for one."

"What kept you from it?" Rick questioned.

Gabe shrugged. "It's overrun."

"How many?" Glenn pipped in from against a wall.

Gabriel slightly tilted his head in thought. "A dozen or so? Maybe more."

Rick scoffed, hands on his hips as he stared at the man. "We can handle a dozen."

"Bob and I will go with you," Michonne said calmly as she stepped forward. "Tyreese should stay here, help keep Judith safe."

"That'll be okay?" Rick glanced over to the man in question, who nodded his head.

"You ever need me to watch her, need anything for her, I'm right here" Tyreese said with a small smile.

The corner of Rick's mouth slightly quipped upward in a tiny smirk. "I'm grateful for it."

"I'll draw you a map–" Gabriel spoke up but was quickly cut off, "–You don't need to, you're coming with us." by Rick who shot him down with a cold icy glare.

It caught Gabriel off-guard and made his anxiety go through the roof. "I– I'm not gonna be of any help, you saw me up on that rock, I'm no good around those things." He stammered, trying to plead his case nervously under Rick's burning gaze.

"You're coming with us."

The sun had set long ago, and the inside of the church was lit up with a warm candle ambiance that fueled that lighthearted mood, everyone in the group chattering and laughing with one another for the first time in what felt like years.

"I'd like to propose a toast." Abraham loudly announced over everyone and all conversations ceased as the ginger easily captured all eyes in the room, raising his glass of wine that Gabriel had pulled from his own office.

"When I look around this room... all I can see is survivors." He said, scanning his eyes over the nave and everyone inside. "Each and every damn one of you has earned that title."

Abraham was silent for a moment, giving the room one last glance over before tipping his glass. "To the survivors."

"Survivors! Cheers!" You all said in unison, raising your glasses and clinking it against the person beside you, the church erupting back into its previous laughter as everyone resumed drinking and enjoying the night.

You scooted your way over to Daryl who was sat in a corner, purposely getting in his space and holding out your glass to him. "Survivors." You mumbled, a tiny smile tugging at your lips.

He glanced at you, a faraway expression on his face as he raised his glass to yours, mumbling out a soft,"Survivors" that was only loud enough for the both of you to hear.

"Now," Abraham said out loud once again, all eyes falling on him. "We get Eugene to Washington, and he will make the dead die, and the living will have this world again." He took a swing of his drink, raising his pinky. "And that is not a bad takeaway for a little road trip."

From where Judith sat snuggly in Rick's lap, she cooed and fisted some of his shirts in her small hands.

"Eugene, what's in DC?" The ginger questioned, all eyes now falling on the scientist for the answer.

He took a moment, clearing his throat before he spoke in his usual flat and unwavering tone of voice. "Infrastructure constructed to withstand pandemics even of this fubar magnitude, that means food, fuel, refuge."

"Restart," Abraham concluded, Eugene giving a short and curt nod at the response. "However this plays out, however long it takes for the reset button to kick in, you can be safe there. Safer than you've been since this whole thing started."

"Save the world for that little one, save it for yourselves. Save it for the people out there, who don't got' nothin' left to do except survive." Abraham spoke, his words of encouragement ringing out through the church's walls.

Judith cooed loudly as she squirmed in Rick's lap, and he smiled at her as he readjusted his grip on her tiny torso. "I think she knows what I'm about to say," Rick joked, managing a few laughs from people. "If she's in, then I'm in too."

"We're all in" Carol interjected, smiles spreading across everyone's faces as conversations and laughter began to fill the room again, people started to celebrate by drinking, clapping, and cheering, the energy in the room upbeat and positive. "Let's do it!" Abraham exclaimed, clearly now tipsier than everyone else as he raised his almost empty glass in the air one more time.

The once warm and cozy atmosphere that the church had inside during the earlier activities had been snuffed out long ago, leaving a cold and empty feeling inside the nave.

It wasn't literally cold, or maybe it was just the cigarette that was keeping Daryl warm, taking long drags from the small stick every minute or so. He couldn't be bothered to go all the way outside, and the natural glow of the moon seeping into the room was more than enough.

Plus, it's not like he was alone, considering that you were sitting in the aisle over from him with your head down.

It had been just the two of you in pure silence for about thirty minutes, and Daryl had only been staring at you for twenty. He tried not to, he really did, but it was hard for his eyes to peel away from the way your dress reflected the light, hands neatly folded together in your lap as hair spilled down your shoulders.

Because of the wine from earlier, there was a slight buzz that ran through Daryl's nerves that somehow encouraged him to stop staring and stand, making his way over to where you were sitting.

"Smoking is a sin, and so is interrupting my prayer," You said once he was sat a few inches from you, not even glancing up at him once.

Daryl let out a tiny scoff, taking another drag from his cigarette. "Yeah, well, s'gon fall on deaf ears anyway"

"Do you not believe in God?" You asked as you blinked your eyes, now turning your head to look at him with genuine curiosity etched on your features.

The man shook his head. "Ain't ever believed in no God," he said, pulling another hit and speaking around it. "Hell, ain't ever believed in nobody"

You sighed a little, leaning back against the bench. "God believes in you"

Daryl scoffed a lot louder at that. "Don' even believe in m'self"

"Well, I believe in you," You said with a shrug, scooting a bit closer to him to bump him with your elbow.

He grumbled as he bumped you back, more so pushing as he held his cigarette between his teeth. "Wha' else ya' believe in? Sandy Clause?"

You let out a small giggle at his butchered version of the fictional character. "Santa, and no, I don't. But I do believe that this is the next world though."

"Why? We ain't dead yet" Daryl analyzed you from the corner of his eyes.

You shook your head, "No, we're not. We never have been. Don't you see? This, this is the resurrection" waving your hands around for emphasis.

"I thought everyone was s'pposed ta' disappear or some shit?" He questioned and you rolled your eyes at him. "Oh come on, I thought you didn't believe in stuff like that. Did you also think that Jesus was gonna fly down from the sky and save us all?"

Daryl huffed as he took a long drag, getting more toward the last few puffs of his cigarette as he raised a brow at you. "Ain't that tha' whole point?"

"That's what people want you to think. They always talk about the resurrection and how Jesus will come back from the dead to save humanity from its wrongdoings, which is exactly what's happening now"

"Tha' hell ya' tryna' say, girl?"

"That God has a plan. He wants the world to be pure again, he wants us to be pure again"

At your words, Daryl scoffed, taking a long and final drag of his cigarette. "Well, m'not very pure unlike yerself" He said as he stomped out the butt of the remaining stick, crushing it under a muddy a boot.

"You're tainted, and its okay. No need to be envious of my non-sinning streak" You jokingly said, flipping your hair which got a tiny chuckle out the older man.

"Now I definitely don' believe ya' ain't ever committed no sin" He said, shaking his head.

You had a small smile playing at your lips, shrugging both shoulders as you looked at him. "I mean, technically walkers aren't people, so I don't really think I've killed anyone"

"Steal anythin'?"

"Thou shall not steal, Daryl. Plus, looting stores is only against the law"

"Well, everyone's told a lie"

"Oh, I'd never lie. The truth will set you free"

Daryl frowned at your words. "Yer startin' ta' piss me off, girl"

"I'm just not a sinner, Daryl. I was raised inside a church, so I spent all my time studying the bible and asking God questions." You said with a sigh, thinking back to when you were still a little girl.

"Wha' kinda questions?" Daryl asked, and you turned once again to meet his gaze.

"Well," You started, taking a moment to think before glancing back up at him. "I've always wondered if you commit a sin inside a church, if it still counts as a sin"

"How would ya' know?"

You shrugged. "I don't, I've never really had any sin to commit"

Daryl hummed, eyes flickering down to your plush lips, tracing the shape of them a few times before shifting his gaze back up to meet your eyes. "Lust is a sin"

"Now that's just unholy, Daryl" You scoffed at him, crossing your arms and turning your head away to hide the heat that rose to your cheeks, because lust was indeed a sin. "It's extremely important to save yourself for the person you're gonna marry. Sex is an emotional gift"

The man furrowed his brows, "How do ya' know tha' if ya' ain't ever fucked?" suppressing the shiver that ran through him at his own words.

Something dark twisted and turned in his stomach just thinking about the idea that you were just as pure as the day that you were born, and he tried not to think about the wildly dirty things he wanted to do to you that he knew would potentially leave a stain. You had probably never even thought of doing something like that, let alone with someone of his nature.

But you had, and you were right now, nervously and subconsciously squeezing your thighs together the more self-aware you started to feel within the older man's presence, feeling his eyes traveling over the length of your body. "I told you, I studied the bible. Sex is the connection of two people who are bound to one another for life, aka being married of course"

"Sex could also just be sex," Daryl shrugged, his brows unmoving as your words confusingly rang out in his ears. "Ain't much of a difference is there?"

You sighed, shaking your head at him. "Of course there is silly. When you're married, sex is a form of art and beauty, as well as conception. God intends for us to use our bodies as a way to communicate with our partner. Any other time, sex is just a form of escape and pleasure, abusing the gift that God has given us in a sinful way, or as you know, lust"

Daryl hummed as you simplified the words for him in a way that he still didn't necessarily understand, but he just decided to pretend like he did. "Ya' ain't ever go through hormones growin' up?"

"Are you asking if I get horny?" You let out a tiny giggle at how his eyes snapped to yours at the blunt question, his cheeks starting to tint pink as he grumbled and looked away. You laughed and wrapped your hands around his forearm, pulling at the man and trying to get him to look at you. "Don't get embarrassed! Are you?"

Unknowingly, you had instead pulled yourself a lot closer to Daryl, and when he twisted his head back in your direction, you were both face to face, noses almost touching.

Daryl stopped breathing for a few seconds as your doe eyes stared up at him, flickering down to where your fingers gripped what you now realized was his very muscular forearm. Sitting this close to him under his burning blue gaze made you feel a bit small, and made a funny feeling form in your lower stomach.

His own eyes flickered back down to your lips, finding himself using his other hand to brush some hair out of your face, curling his fingers at the back of your hand and cupping your cheek in a big, calloused palm, tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. "Maybe I am"

"This is God's house, Daryl." You muttered in a hushed whisper as you curled your fingers around his arm, trying not to downright melt into the warm touch of his hand.

"Think he's gon' watch us?" He whispered back, and your lower stomach tingled in a way that made your whole core heat up, feeling a mild throbbing sensation coming from your private area as you looked up at the older man, running his thumb over the edge of your jaw.

"I– I don't–" You stammered, shifting your eyes away from his as you found yourself at a loss for words.

"Said ya' always wanted ta' commit a sin inna church, righ'?" Daryl tilted your gaze back to his, stroking your cheek with a gentleness you didn't even know he could muster. "Might as well do the one tha' feels best"

"But I've never done something like this... Will it– Will it hurt?" You said as you searched his eyes, the blue orbs going soft and tender.

"M'not gonna hurt ya' at all sweetheart," He said in a genuine voice, holding your face a little tighter. He couldn't even imagine hurting something as dainty as you, especially not with the way you were looking up at him with curious and innocent eyes. "If anythin' I do hurts, tell me, alrigh'?"

You nodded, the corner of your lips twitching into a smile as it felt like there was an entire butterfly exhibit in your stomach, Daryl learning down into your space and first giving your lips a small peck, before pulling you completely flush by the back of your nape, a shiver running up your spine that went all the way down to your clothed cunt, legs squeezing together as Daryl deepened the kiss, your first and hottest kiss ever.

It made your head light and dizzy, leaving you starstruck and dazed when he pulled away with only a thin trail of saliva connecting your lips, Daryl brushing the skin of your cheek once again as you slowly blinked, still feeling airy from the kiss you just experienced.

"Do that again please" You murmured in a tiny plea, feeling both sets of your lips tingle in excitement at all the new sensations Daryl was showing you.

He pulled you in for a chaste peck, catching your bottom lip between his teeth. "Ya' like tha', pretty girl?" He mumbled the words against you, pressing another kiss to your plush lips and swallowing the tiny moan you let out.

You moved to wrap your arms around the older man's neck, Daryl now taking both his hands and gripping you by your waist, pulling a shocked gasp from you at the way his touch made your cunt ache. He carefully moved you to lay on your back, slotting a thigh between your legs and pressing the denim material against your soaked panties, a noise mixed between embarrassment and need coming from your throat.

It felt so good, and you found yourself trying to rut against Daryl's thigh as he started to kiss and suck at your neck, making you giggle slightly as the skin there was more ticklish than anywhere else. His body was big and warm as it was pressed on top of yours, feeling a pulsating sensation traveling through your nerves as you continued to needily hump his leg, whining softly as you tried to further fuel the feel-good moment you were having.

"Let m'help ya' out doll, jus' leave it all ta' me, gon' make ya feel real good" Daryl spoke the words from the underside of your jaw, kissing his way up to your lips before he leaned back, pulling his thigh back and leaving a hand on your hip, courtesy of your fingers scrambling to curl around his for comfort.

"I'm a bit nervous," You said, avoiding his gaze out of embarrassment as you spoke the words. "What if I mess something up?"

"Tha' ain't gon' happen, m'gon do all tha' work fer ya'" Daryl said as his hands moved down to your thighs, lifting and pulling your legs to circle his waist, a shrill shriek tearing out your throat as your dress started to slip down and pool at your waist.

It left your lower half completely exposed, and it was almost an instinct to drop your hands down to cover your panties, a hot blush painting over as Daryl gripped both your hands in one, moving them away and pinning them to your chest. "Nuh'uh, ya' ain't gonna hide from me, pretty girl"

You whined softly as he released your wrists, ducking his head down to kiss and lick your stomach, causing you to jerk from the wet muscle dragging across your skin. His fingers traveled down past the hem of your undies, pushing them midway down your thighs before sitting back up and lifting one of your thighs, yanking the flimsy blue fabric the rest of the way off and stuffing it in his back pocket, pulling you a bit closer as he licked his lips, eyeing the prettiest pussy he's ever seen.

You weren't exactly sure what to do with your hands, deciding instead to clench the cross around your neck in one and prop yourself up on the other, all this being so new and different, dirty and sinful, that you couldn't help but wanna watch.

Daryl placed a hand on your hip, the other moving to gather spit on his fingers. "Gotta get ya' stretched out so I don' hurt ya'"'

"Is this part gonna hurt? I've only masturbated once, but I was too scared to actually finger myself" You frowned a little, feeling your nerves spike as it started set really just how inexperienced you were.

Daryl leaned down and placed a soft peck to your lips, dipping his fingers into your cunt gently and rubbing the digits up and down your slit, pressing down against your clit and moving in a circular motion, his actions on the bundle of nerves sending shivers sparking up your spine, letting out a moan that was deep in your throat right against the older man's lips.

He let out a low chuckle, adding a second finger to his movement against your clit. "Doesn' hurt now, does it?"

You shook your head, body tingling in a foreign way that almost made you feel like you had been tased but in a good way, not that you've ever been tased before. The rough pads of his fingertips against your clit drove you absolutely crazy, the faster they moved the more you found your hips jerking down in a clumsy attempt to speed up whatever high it was you were riding right now, feeling better than you ever have in your whole life.

"There ya' go beautiful, c'mon, cum on m'fingers" Daryl murmured the words out, quickening his pace as he could feel your legs twitching around him, your whines and whimpers getting louder and louder. He spread your cunt lips apart more which revealed your raw clit more, a few harsh strokes to the small bud before you were biting down on your bottom lip and letting your head fall back, a shaky, pleased cry tearing out your chest as waves of electricity coursed through your entire nervous system.

Rather than pulling his fingers away, Daryl dragged them back down your now much more sensitive slit, this time slipping a single digit past your tight entrance, the feeling foreign and oddly unique. Daryl's finger was a bit bigger than average, so you could feel there was a slight stretch to your virgin hole.

Daryl could feel it too, as well as the way you experimentally clenched and convulsed around his stilled finger, giving you a few minutes to adjust to the new feeling.

When he began to slowly thrust the digit in and out, curling the tip of his finger each time in search of your sweet spot, carefully watching the way your face twisted and contorted.

"Ya' alrigh'?" He asked, starting to brush his thumb against the skin where he was gripping your hip.

You nodded, involuntarily clenching around him. "Yeah, it just feels really funny, maybe I just had my expectations too high," You said as you furrowed your brows, a bit upset that 'fingering' wasn't all you chalked it up to be.

"First finger ain't much, second one might feel 'bit different" Daryl said as he pulled the digit back, this time pushing back into you with both fingers, the stretch and drag of the two digits feeling agreeably more different than just one.

This time Daryl just kept up his steady pace, continuing to thrust and curl his fingers into your cunt, starting to scissor you further open. Your eyes trailed down to follow the movement of his other hand as he released his grip on your hip, beginning to undo the zipper of his jeans and shoving them halfway down, the first and biggest cock you've ever laid eyes on.

Your jaw went a little slack, scrambling to find words as you felt panic boil in your stomach. "That– That's not gonna fit!"

"Calm down doll, I swear yer'gon be jus' fine" Daryl murmured softly, reaching down to reassuringly press his forehead against yours, so close that your eyelashes were almost touching. "Told ya', m'not gonna hurt ya'. S'probably not gon' feel tha' best at first but it gets better, righ'?"

Taking his words into consideration for a minute, you nodded your head against his and let your eyes flutter shut as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips, followed by another, and then the feeling of his fingers slipping out of you.

It left you feeling oddly empty, but there was excitement building up as you watched Daryl spit on his cock, using it as lube as he dragged it up your already slick slit, pressing the tip into your hole and easily pushing past, the stretch of his cock slowly slipping into you a lot more painful than expected, your hands finding his forearms where he gripped your waist and squeezing them tightly, wincing slightly as you dug your nails into his skin.

Daryl caressed the skin of your waist with his thumb, trying his best to ease the discomfort he could see and knew he was causing you. "I know, I know, s'gon be alrigh' gorgeous, yer' alrigh'" He muttered, pulling his hips back and pushing them forward again, repeating the motion in long, deep strokes.

Whatever his method was, it was definitely working, each drag of his cock against your walls feeling better and better, your cunt only getting wetter and wetter which made it so much easier for Daryl to increase his pace, trying his best to restrain himself from completely plowing into you like he had been craving to do for days, weeks now.

He didn't wanna hurt you or go too rough, this was your first time for crying out loud, a sweet christian girl who hadn't even dipped her own fingers inside herself, and here he was, a grumpy tainted man who had somehow managed to stuff himself balls deep into her pure little pussy, hugging his cock in a warm, velvety hold that he just wanted to absolutely ruin.

He watched the way your eyes fluttered, soft moans coming from you as your face seemed to be pleasantly relaxed, the tight and fearful grip you once had on his arms now reduced to a lazy and content hold, fingers squeezed every once in a while when Daryl's cock would bump a rather sensitive nerve. "That actually feels good" You mumbled as a small smile twitched on your lips.

But Daryl knew how he could make it feel even better, and his restraint to hold back from completely plowing into you had run down to nothing, a sharp grunt leaving his throat when he snapped his hips forward, shoving the entirety of his cock into you suddenly.

You let out a surprised squeak at the action, Daryl's hands planting themselves awkwardly but firmly on the church bench, your own moving to keep yourself steady as he ducked his head down to begin sucking your neck, setting a rough and unforgiving pace.

"Oh my fuuuck" You moaned out in a shaky, pleased breath, fingers curling into the wood and your toes curling in your boots. It's like you were dancing on cloud ten, each hard bump of his tip to your cervix making your mouth practically water, sending bolts of lightning licking up your spine.

Daryl groaned into the skin of your neck, sucking and kissing against your pulse as he got lost in the warmth of your cunt. "Got such a perfect fuckin' pussy, love tha' s'all fer me"

You whined and couldn't help but clench around him at his words, a shudder running through you when you felt him start to speed up, pulling tiny moans out of your chest at every thrust.

Daryl muttered in a husky voice right by your ear, "Feels so fuckin' amazin' doll, so damn tight 'nd wet, might fuck ya' fer hours" grabbing you by the hip and pulling you impossibly further in his lap, driving his cock faster and deeper into your body, nailing your tender sweet spot dead on which caused you to let out a high pitch cry, Daryl muffling your sounds with a slow but sloppy kiss.

He slammed his cock right into the sensitive bundle of nerves, each thrust making you feel dizzy and lightheaded, knocking the air out of your lungs but it felt so good you couldn't even care, eyes starting to roll back when Daryl slid a hand down to roughly finger at your clit, the way he was stimulating your whole cunt making the entire room spin, a shaky, needy sob spilling pat your lips as your whole body was drowning in pulsing and throbbing tingles, Daryl placing another kiss to your lips as he only went faster.

"Ya like tha' huh m'lil sinner? Goin' against everythin' ya' stand fer, feels real good don' it?" He groaned the words out against your lips, and you downright whimpered at his words, heart pounding in your ears as he worked your clit, still ramming in and out of you at an animalistic pace. You couldn't think, and the only word you could muster was a small, broken "D-Daryl"

Your hips jerked down to clumsily grind against his fingers and his cock, needily chasing the building high of your second orgasm as it became difficult to keep your volume at a low, moans starting to tear themselves right out your throat.

Daryl reached an arm underneath your back and flipped you into a sitting position, straddling his lap with his fat cock now one hundred percent of the way buried inside you, so deep that you were convinced for a second that he was in your stomach. You draped your arms over his shoulders and muffled a lewd moan into his neck, the first thrust sending him deeper than ever.

He held you flush against him and bunched your dress up with one hand, and squeezed your hip with the other, letting out breathy, heavy moans of his own as he bounced you in his lap, the tight and slick drag of your raw cunt against his throbbing cock straight up addictive.

"So goddamn wet baby, ya' was saving this wet ass lil' pussy fer me huh, lil' devil?" As the man spoke, he sounded extremely winded, with deep and passionate huffs, you couldn't help but convulse around him at his words, a tiny noise leaving your lips as you clung to him tighter, whining as his hand on your hip pulled you even closer against his pelvis. "Fuck, so fuckin' perfect doll"

Only choked-off moans and whimpers came from you, trying to muffle your sounds into Daryl's neck as his cock shifted angles inside, driving himself right into a soft and squishy spot that made you mewl, the man holding you down as he continued to slam into that spot head-on. His thrusts were fast and unforgiving, fucking your cunt almost as if he hated you, but his grip was tight and protective, holding your body against his like he loved you.

Which he did, but he just didn't know how to say it. His only hope being that you could feel it in the way he fucked into you, hips starting to falter slightly as your tight cunt milked his cock, practically sucking him in and making it impossible for him to ever want to pull out.

From the way you had started to tremble and spasm around him, Daryl could tell that your orgasm was getting closer and closer, encouraging him to quicken his pace. “Gonna cum, pretty girl?” He murmured as he moved down to pepper kisses across your cheek.

“Yes! Oh my goodness yes” You moaned as your entire body pulsated, each bump of his tip to your cervix sending you further into bliss. Your arms dropped down and you curled your fingers into his sturdy shoulders for purchase as he relentlessly pounded your twitching pussy, keeping your limp body closely pressed against his.

Daryl could feel the boiling heat of his own orgasm rising in his gut, the wet and warm slide of your cunt against the throbbing pulse of his aching cock pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He hitched your dress up further as he adjusted his grip on you, speeding up his pace even more as he started to chase after his own relief, the squeeze of your soft and squishy walls practically making him drunk.

He groaned as electricity licked and burned through his veins, thoughts flashing and racing through his head. “Let me cum in ya’ doll. Gonna get ya’ nice ‘nd plumped up with a lil’ baby, huh?”

That sent tingles shooting down your spine, clenching down around his thickness at the words each time they rang out in your head. Growing up, all you've ever wanted was to have a sweet little baby of your own, and after unlocking such a world like this you couldn't possibly picture life without Daryl at your side.

"Please, please give me that" You almost whimpered as you trembled against his chest, heart pounding in your chest as a heat burned and built up in your stomach. You jerked your hips and made a clumsy attempt to rut down against him, but he tightened the hold he had on your lower half to stop your movements. "I've got ya' gorgeous, m'gon take care of ya', told ya' m'gon make ya' feel good"

Daryl readjusted his position, moving you to sit up properly and gripping you at the waist, pinning up your dress there as well as he started to bounce you in his lap, downright using your body as a sex toy as he plowed right into your sensitive sweet spot, pulling strained and guttural moans from your chest as you tried your hardest to keep your volume down as to not echo off the church's wall, biting back sobs as your hands found their way to Daryl's chest, fingers curling into the strong flesh as all the digits had a hot buzz to them, lungs suddenly not being able to take in any air as your stomach burned, toes curling in your boots and teeth clenching as a wave of scorching hot pleasure washed over your whole entire body, this time not being able to hold back the loud cry that tore it's way out your throat, uncontrollably convulsing around his cock as he thoroughly fucked you through your orgasm, muffling your pleased moans with a messy kiss.

With the way your now overly sensitive cunt squeezed and roughly gripped his pulsating dick, Daryl wasn't far behind in his orgasm, grunting into your mouth as his hips stuttered inside you, cock twitching eagerly as he pumped his load deep into the warmth of your heat, Daryl slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressing it up against yours.

When he pulled away, you were nothing but a puddle of pure jelly, going limp in his grasp as he wrapped a secure arm around your middle, moving to kiss and suck your neck as he covered you back up by dropping your dress, deciding he wanted to stay wrapped inside you a little longer.

"Are you gonna give me my panties back?" You questioned from where you now rested against his shoulder, eyes following the older mans movement as he flicked his lighter, holding the flame up to a new cigarette.

The tip burned red as he took the first and long drag, blowing the smoke up in the air and holding the cigarette away from you by stretching his arms across the bench, humming softly as if taking a moment to think. "Nah"

You pulled back from his chest and gawked at him. "No? There'll be a sticky mess between my legs in the morning!"

He smirked at you, showing a sliver of his porcelain teeth as he did. "Tha's the point, lil' sinner, yer gonna be feelin' me fer days"

The nickname made you blush, turning your head away from the man as you also considered his words, a part of you wanted to feel and experience it all over again, almost arguably a divine slice of heaven itself, and you wanted to taste it once again.

"Well you should never commit a sin twice" You mumbled instead of your real thoughts, cheeks now starting to heat up from embarrassment and a bit of shame, Daryl's cock still buried inside you as a reminder of what you had just done, a reminder that the purity and sacrality you had been preserving for your future man had been completely stripped by another.

Unless, Daryl was your future man, clenching down around him as he took another drag of his cigarette, placing a hand back over your now-covered hip, traveling up to your waist, and squeezing the flesh there. He wasn't the God-fearing, clear-minded, faithful man you had dreamed about as a little girl. Still, he was the strong, protective, and leaderful man that you had dreamed about as a young woman, the man you dreamed of to provide for you and the home you built for another, to protect and preserve the family he's made.

His hand grazed your jaw, fingers caressing your cheek and tracing over the shape of your lips. With his gentle and soft touch, you could feel each blister and callous formed on his hands, the rough feeling of hard work against your skin causing goosebumps.

"Somethin' bad gon' happen ta' us?" He questioned, talking around an exhale of smoke as he did.

"We'll go to hell, Daryl!" You rolled your eyes at him.

He lazily shrugged a shoulder, staring at you with searching eyes. "We'll go together"

Your mouth gaped at his words, stammering as you struggled to find your own. "W– Well I'd much rather prefer we go to heaven together"

"They not gon' let me in" Daryl scoffed slightly as he spoke.

"Not when you commit sins like lust, Mr. Tainted" You flicked his forehead, and he grumbled swatting your hand away, rubbing the reddening skin.

"Ain't my fault, Mrs. Holy, yer' dress leaves little ta' tha' imagination" He muttered, and your eyes widened at his words.

"Are you– My dress goes to my flipping ankles!" You picked up some of the pooled dingy fabric, tugging on it for emphasis.

Daryl shrugged again at that, his eyes now traveling the length of your body where you sat still in his lap. "Don' matter, ever since I saw tha' pretty lil' face I've wanted ta' see the rest of ya', 'nd I ain't disappointed"

You scoffed in disbelief, turning your head in an attempt to hide the heat rising to your face, speaking in a hushed whisper. "My gosh, you speak such foul words in such a sacred place"

"We jus' fucked" Daryl said bluntly, taking another drag from his cigarette as he watched you snap your neck back to him, mouth slightly agape as you scrambled for words. "Y– Yes. But, that doesn't mean you have to talk like that in God's house"

At that, Daryl's cock twitched inside you, a smirk taking over his lips "Ya' said tha' same thing before m'tongue was down yer' throat"

"Daryl!" You hissed, the man chuckling as he gripped your hip and moved to kiss at your already marked-up neck, the weight of your faith starting to weigh heavy as you felt Daryl's cock hardening to life against your walls. "Fornication is straight up breaking the laws of God. We can't– I can't do this again"

The smell of cigarettes and sex painted the church air as you planted both hands on Daryl's chest, pushing yourself up and slowly off his dick with a restrained groan, turning into a sharp gasp when the elder pulled you back down, flush against him.

"Think fornica-whatever s'allot more than jus' sex, 'cause I don' have a problem makin' ya' mines" Daryl mumbled the words into your hair, holding you to his chest with one arm and stubbing out his cigarette in the wooden bench with the other. "God can't stop me from wantin' ya', can he?"

"He can, if you don't truly want me" You muttered into his shirt, and could feel the rumble of his short laughter through his stomach. "'S'good tha' I've wanted ya' fer a while then"

You sighed as you pushed yourself up to meet his gaze, eyes sharp and focused on yours as you moved. "It's more than just want, marriage is a life-long commitment, spiritual and eternal, it's about your faithfulness and loyalty to the person you love, the person you wanna become one body with, share your body with. That's why it's important to save yourself for marriage, to keep yourself pure and clean for the one you want to share it with"

"Aren't we one righ' now?"

"I– I mean– yes, but n– not in the way God intended for us to be–"

"–Why? 'Cause we ain't married? Pretty stupid if yer' askin' me"

He took your left hand in his, bring it up to his lips and placing soft kisses on your delicate fingers, lips lingering against your ring finger.

"Don' need no God ta' tell m'tha' I do or don' love ya', 'cause I know I do, dammit woman, loved ya' since I met ya' on yer' daddy's farm" Daryl scoffed as he finally spoke his feelings into the air, listening to himself and how ridiculous he sounded.

You listened intently, staring at him with glossy eyes as he spoke, your lips twitching and tugging into a tiny smile.

A provider, a protector, a man, a real man, was what Daryl Dixon was, the type of man that you thought could only ever exist in your head and bible, yet here he was, clinging to you and holding you close to him, pressed tightly against and in you, so tight that it felt like you'd just melt right into him at any second, his heart beating erratically in his chest, so much that you could feel it against the beat of your own heart.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" You whispered, watching how Daryl's eyes shifted away from yours in the embarrassed way that they always did. "Tell me!"

The man grumbled as you grabbed his face and shook his head, forcing his gaze back on you as he pulled your hands away with his, dropping them down to his chest and holding them there. "I didn' think ya'd want someone like me"

"What? Someone unholy?" You tilted your head slightly at him.

He shook his head, fingers squeezing your wrists. "Someone damaged"

"Damaged? You aren't damaged, Daryl. You're just tainted" You furrowed your brows, frowning slightly at his words.

"Ya' always say tha'" He mumbled, and you sighed. "Because there's no other way for me to put it. You're just a corrupted soul, but that doesn't mean you're a bad person"

He stared at you, licking his lips as he looked at your own, his cock twitching back to life again. "Even if I wanna corrupt ya' too?"

"And how exactly would you do that?" You laughed, but couldn't ignore the heat starting to pool in your gut, feeling a familiar buzz in your fingertips as Daryl ran his hands up your thigh, bunching the fabric of your dress all the up past your tits, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as the cold air hit them, the older man pulling you close and popping one of your tender nipples into his mouth, rocking his hips to full hardness. "M'gonna slut ya' out, pretty girl. Gonna turn ya' into my sweet lil' sinner, a little holy fuckdoll"

"I'm not a sex toy" You whined as he dragged his tongue across your boobs, involuntarily clenching around him as you tried to defend yourself, but Daryl laughed lowly as he trailed his lips up to the skin of your neck, kissing his way up to your ear and taking the lobe between his teeth. "Not yet, gorgeous, not yet"

GUYS. GUYS I HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH ANY OF THIS I SWEAR.

I can't believe its done??? I've snipped so many snippets, cut so much out, stared at it for so long, and now its done (after a few decades) so I hope that everyone who I hyped up for this fic was satisfied and it was everything that I had made it out to be

Anyways this fic wouldn't have even existed without @tylermaxxine the local instigator and chronic coffee chugger

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍

╰┈➤ ❝ rafayel x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : softdom!rafayel, hints of switch!rafayel, reader is hesitant with intimacy, descriptions of self-esteem issues and general insecurities, mentions/implications of toxic relationships, implications of dubcon (not with rafayel), praise and reassurance, kissing and making out, heavy petting, first time sex (with each other) (no virginity loss), masturbation (f), oral (m. receiving), vaginal sex, cowgirl and missionary positions, unprotected sex, creampie, soft sex, use of pet names "cutie" "princess" "baby", references to card "fiery undercurrents", lmk if i missed any tags !! ((unedited))

wc : 7.9k (help me)

youtiful masterlist

a late birthday os for our favorite deep sea painter! ✨

You jumped at your phone, nearly gasping at the caller ID that flashed on your screen.

"Rafayel!"

Your grip on your phone was tight, held against your ear with an immediate burst of excitement.

It had been days.

You knew how it was, of course—an artist's inspiration was often sporadic and fleeting, and you'd even lost count of the number of times Rafayel had told you that. How essential it was to grab the spark of creativity before it you lose it; how paramount it was to focus on your flow before it disappeared... It was ingrained in the forefront of your mind, by now.

And even more than that, if Rafayel had always been one to speak of the elusiveness of inspiration, then Thomas had always been one to insist you leave him and his stroke of genius alone whenever he called for it.

You didn't understand much about the world of artists, so it was natural for you to take their words to heart, but it hadn't been easy.

Rafayel, being Rafayel, would always send you texts and updates, never failingly missing a single day... But it had been days since you'd last heard his voice at all—much less seen him. Now, marking a week sinve you'd been to his studio at all, you were pacing back and forth in your apartment, wondering how long you had to wait, and if maybe you should take a chance and visit him yourself—

But you didn't want to be selfish.

In fact, you quite despised being needy at all—with a quiet laugh, you thought, that was usually the role that Rafayel would play in your relationship. You wouldn't think to take it from him.

Yet, now, your phone rang, and the ever-familiar sound of his voice brought on a wave of butterflies in your stomach that had your mood lifting in seconds.

"Heeyyy there, cutie!"

In the background, you could make out the faint sounds of metal against concrete in the background, and your ears perked.

"Is... that your ladder? Have you finished your painting?"

"Yeah! It really took a while, this one... But Thomas'll be happy to know that it's finally finished! ...That is, if I could get ahold of him..."

You carefully sat on the edge of your bed, swinging your legs in sheer happiness at his little ramblings.

"...And, actually, I kind of need your help."

You blinked.

"Hm? Help? With what?"

"Well, you know how I told you it's been kind of a while since I last cleaned this place...?"

"...Yes..."

"Are you free now?"

"Rafayel, you can't mean...?"

"Yeah! Can you come over and help me clean?"

You couldn't believe his first thought with this call was to ask you for your cleaning services. You strained to hear the familiar tease in his voice, even waited for a moment for some kind of "Just kidding!" or whatever else that could tell you he wasn't being serious—

You felt your eyes narrow in disapproval when you found nothing.

"Rafayel, I'm not your maid, you know."

Not even an "I missed you", not even a " Want to hang out later?".

"Yeaaahh.... But you're my bodyguard, right?" The hopeful tone in his voice now would have made you laugh.... In other circumstances.

"What does that have to do with anything?!" There was a laugh, then, on the other side of the line, and you huffed. "Rafayel, don't joke with me—"

"Look! I told you, right? Thomas won't answer me, and, seriously! The studio's a mess. I really need some help... Please?"

He was laughing completely now, and the sound brought over that same, very familiar ripple of butterflies, despite all the odds.

You caved.

"This is labor abuse, Rafa. Of your own girlfriend, might I add!" You hmphed, but stood up from your bed, haphazardly gathering your things into a purse and walking out of your flat. "Fine. I'm on my way there."

"Oh, you really are the best girlfriend I could ever have wished for! Thanks, princess! See ya!"

Not even a "stay safe"!

You wondered if this was what Rafayel felt whenever you were late to receive his calls or to reply to hia texts, and you sighed.

Is he just trying to get back at me...?

Regardless, he made up for his actions by immediately twirling you over with a kiss the minute you knocked on his door, and you smiled.

"Nice to see you again, princess," he grinned.

You thought you could never have wanted to see his smile as much as you did now—

But you couldn't bring yourself to admit that to him.

"Would've been better if you said that when you called me, huh?" You rolled your eyes playfully, shoving him aside and scanning the space in front of you.

He hadn't been lying.

Paint had been scattered around, well past the patches of safety paper he usually had lying all over his studio. While you were used to seeing the place mostly messy, anyway, this seemed a lot less like the organized mess you were used to. What's more, the painting wasn't even in this room anymore, and god knows where he'd put it now to dry.

You turned towards him with the raise of an eyebrow.

"Geez, Rafayel... This place looks like it's been through a hell hole. What were you doing?"

"Painting."

He shrugged, ever nonchalant and casual, only as if stating the obvious—that clearly being so engrossed in your painting would result in such a mess, and that clearly—he handed over a bundle of cleaning supplies—this was a very normal way of greeting your significant other.

You sighed.

You supposed, nothing was ever truly normal with him, anyway.

By the time you had finished, the sun that peeked through his windows bathed his studio into a golden glow. You settled onto the couch beside him, silent as he rubbed soothing circles into your shoulder, your head resting contently on his shoulder.

"You're rich, Rafayel," you mumbled, a little tiredly. "Why can't you just hire a maid if you don't want to clean things yourself?"

"And where do you think I'd find one I could trust enough to let near my paintings?"

The scoff in his voice made your lips quirk into a smile, and you tilted your head up to look at him.

...Ah.

Your breath caught in your throat when your eyes met, the gentle mix of red and purple hues in his eyes once again having you transfixed. His hair was slightly unruly from the work you'd both done, but the sunset rays streaming in from the window had little specks of sunlight painting his tresses in such a way that had you utterly mesmerized.

He chuckled slightly.

"Cat got your tongue, princess?"

You could barely bring yourself to mumble a response when he leaned in, shifting your positions just enough to have you lying on your back against the couch. Half of his weight rest over you, and you could feel it; his heartbeat against yours. You could almost amazed feel at the comfort in your synchronicity.

He sighed, brushing your hair out of your face. "...Why haven't you been to the studio?" he mumbled.

His words pulled you out of your reverie, and immediately, you felt your heart sink.

"...I thought... I thought you'd be busy..." Your voice came out meek, already searching his eyes anxiously. "Thomas told me not to disturb you, a-and I thought, maybe, you didn't want to be interrupted? I know how hard it's been for you to finish that painting..."

You swallowed thickly.

"Yeah, that might be true..." Rafayel nuzzled your nose affectionately, succeeding in soothing your nerves down to a certain degree. "But what if I wanted to see you, too?"

"...You... You usually just ask..."

Your words were met with silence, and you squirmed under the intensity of his gaze.

"Rafayel—"

"But you can't expect me to be the one asking for you all the time, right?"

Something at the back of your mind told you he didn't mean it that way, but his words stung nonetheless. The disapproval in his pout made your stomach churn. The atmosphere had, to you, become a little weightier, and your chest felt heavy with guilt.

You promised you wouldn't make him wait... But didn't you, in the end? Some useless game of seeing who'd cave first?

Your gaze shifted away from him, and you played with the hem of your shirt.

"Sorry, Rafa, I didn't mean to upset you... I-I don't know much about art, and I didn't want to bother you, and—god, actually, maybe it was stupid of me to just rely on Thomas' words instead of asking you, I'm such a terrible girlfriend—"

Tears began to well up in your eyes as you spoke, but before you could proceed any further, you felt the soft sensation of lips upon yours.

You blinked your tears away rapidly, refocusing to meet his, parting your lips slightly in shock when he pulled away.

"Don't say that, princess." He shook his head, and there was a ghost of a smile on his face. "You're not a terrible girlfriend. You're perfect, actually, and... I'm partly to blame. It was wrong of me to test you like that... You're right. I should have just asked."

You drew in a breath.

Perhaps, it was because your roles had been reversed today; perhaps, it was because you'd been so anxious to see him again that even the slightest signs of any conflict had you feeling like walking on eggshells. But it was rare for you to see him take the situation at hand so maturely, and it did well for the tenseness in your shoulders to melt away.

He moved his hand back into your hair, soft, gentle strokes, if only to soothe you further away from your worries.

"...Well, actually, maybe we both are a little stupid. I... kind if made the studio messy on my own."

Your ears perked up with that, and you looked at him curiously.

Rafayel laughed.

"It wasn't that bad when I'd finished! And I wasn't lying, I had been neglecting the studio, I just..."

When his voice trailed off, you found the courage to speak again.

"Did you.... Make an excuse to bring me here?"

He smiled, bringing his lips over to the top of your head, another one on your temple, and then another one over the corner of your eye.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I missed you a lot. I guess I just got creative... A little too much, anyway."

His lips were on yours again the next second, soft pecks that made your heart soar with glee. You wrapped your arms slowly around his neck, barely registering the way he'd pulled himself over you, feeling safe under the weight of his body—you liked this. And you missed it, being close with him, having a few moments to yourselves just to revel in each other's warmth.

With half-lidded eyes, he pulled back for air, panting softly over your skin.

"...You really could have just asked me," you whispered, gazing into his eyes and allowing yourself to get lost in them once more.

He let out a soft laugh. "Hm, yeah. Buuuut, maybe I thought this would be more interesting... And maybe, then, you could stay the night, too..."

His eyes flickered closed as he ran his hands through your hair once more, bringing a lock up to his face and letting out a sigh.

"You used that shampoo again."

You faltered slightly at his words, but he pressed you against the couch, capturing your lips into a deeper kiss.

...That shampoo.

You knew exactly what he was referring to.

The last time he'd noticed this scent on you, the way he'd pressed his lips against yours had been anything but innocent—it was one of the first times the both of you had made out together, the hairdryer and towel that had started the whole ordeal then long-forgotten beside you. The mere thought of that night brought an undeniable flush to your face, an all-too-familiar tingling sensation breaking throughout your body.

And you knew what he was insinuating. Even as he continued to kiss you, and even as you felt yourself easily melting into him the way that you would.

His hand began to roam your body, slowly stroking down your sides, making their way to your thigh and inching closer, closer, to the heat of your clothed core—

Your breath hitched.

You couldn't control it.

It was like instinct, whatever this conflict of mind and body really was—

You immediately reached out to grab his wrist, and his reaction was immediate. In an instant, his lips were off of yours, and he froze in place, wide eyes searching yours.

"Shit," he whispered. "Princess, I'm sorry— Did I— Did I go something wrong—"

Though breathless and panting, your lips quivered, and your grip on his wrist tightened.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Slowly, you felt him peel himself off of you, sitting up carefully... And you took in a deep breath.

"R-Rafayel, I..."

The waver in your voice and the alarm that had found its way into your eyes weren't missed by him, and you turned your head. "I'm sorry," you swallowed thickly. "I... I don't think i can do this right now..."

You felt feeble and small as you moved to draw your knees up to your chest, almost as if with the intention of hiding yourself away. "I... M-maybe, just... Not tonight...?"

When you sneaked a glance back up at him, you could see it. That glimmer of hurt in his eyes, perhaps just barely there, but more noticeable to you than anything else. You were also made painfully aware of the sun that had set, the studio now darker into the night—a cold draft blew in through the windows and made you shiver, and now, you felt incredibly small.

Rafayel, however, gave you another soft smile, gently moving to sit with your legs over his lap, resorting to holding your hand in his gently.

"Okay," he said.

And it was so simple the way he accepted your rejection, so devoid of judgement, that it made you feel...

Guilty.

Even guiltier than you already were to begin with.

"...I'm sorry, Rafa, I—"

He shook his head, giving your hand another squeeze.

"No, that's... Well, also on me. I should have asked you about this first, too..." The regret in his voice made you want to hit something. "It's okay. We don't have to do anything today. I'll wait until you're ready, princess."

...He'll wait?

Quietly, you moved to crawl back towards him, snuggling into his chest.

This wasn't the first time he had tried to go further with you. That night, after drying your hair, had been one of such times, and it wasn't as if you didn't want to take the next step in your relationship.

In fact, you wanted it just as much as he did.

You've fantasized about it for nights on end, laying on your bed, fingers playing with your clit and imagining how well his hands would have worked you, how well his cock would have stretched you out and filled you up far better than your fingers ever could. You lost count, how many times you'd come undone, alone on your bed, having his name spill from your lips as you did.

You wanted so badly for him to ravage you.

But thinking of it was incredibly different from having the situation at hand right in front of you.

You were nervous.

There were so, so many things that could go wrong from just exposing yourself to him as you would have if you did go that far—just as so, so many things had already gone wrong the last time you had, with other people.

You buried your face into his chest, pressing against him, drowning yourself in his warmth.

"...Are you mad?" You whispered.

"Me? Why would I be, when you're cuddling me like this so tightly?" The playfulness in his voice chased enough of your worries for you to let out a little laugh. "Just so you know... I'm perfectly fine with this."

You shifted, tilting your head to look up at him.

Rafayel gently poked at your nose.

"I can't be mad at you, princess, just because you said no to me. There are other ways for us to be affectionate, and I don't need to have sex with you, you know?"

"...But you want to?" Your voice remained meek, still very obviously wanting to hide yourself back into his shirt. And you would have, if he hadn't pried you away, hands firmly over your arms, leaning down to study your gaze.

"R-Rafa—"

"I want to, princess, but only if you want to. And I need to make that super, suuper clear to you, because I won't be forcing you into anything you don't want. 'Kay?"

His words sent a flurry of comfort into your stomach.

"...But... But what if I make you wait too long? You dislike waiting... A-and it's normal, anyway, right? For couples to have sex? If we don't, then..." As you spoke, you noticed a frown frown gradually form over his face, and you faltered.

"You... You expect me to leave because of this?"

You turned your gaze away in silence.

"Princess... You... May I ask where that's coming from? Do... Do you feel unloved with me? Am I doing something wrong?"

It was like a trigger—the way his voice dropped into a soft whisper, his hands falling back down to take yours in his, lacing your fingers together.

He was so gentle with you.

You felt the unwelcome sting of tears in your eyes, and you shook your head—"N-no," you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut. "You've done nothing wrong, but... But you're so—so nice to me, Rafayel..."

"...Baby? Of course I'm nice to you! Aren't you my girlfriend?!"

The nickname switch made your heart jump, and you nuzzled yourself further into his embrace.

"...I don't deserve you."

A pause.

You felt as if you could drown in the silence, even though you knew that he was just thinking of what to say.

"I'm sorry, I just made things worse—"

"...Deserve me? There's... there's nothing for you to say that—princess, that's my line, you know. You deserve everything—every little good thing out there, and so much more than me."

"But—! You—you're so good to me, and I'm—! How many times did I disappoint you? This whole week, and even just now, and—"

You felt yourself sniffling, and Rafayel once again brought you to look up at him. You chewed on your bottom lip, a flash of insecurity in your eyes that made him sigh softly.

"No, no, no... Don't cry, princess... Nothing's going to change just because of this, yeah? You know I love you. And nothing in the way that I love you is tied to... whatever ways you'll allow me to love you. I get it, you know? If you're not ready to go there yet, then that's fine. I promise. I don't make promises without reason, princess."

His gaze, now, was firm, and his words were warm. Genuine—like he always was with you. In the silence that followed, you felt yourself calm down slightly, your breath easing, the tears in your eyes blinked away in your insistence not to cry in front of him.

And more than anything, you found thr conviction in his words to be something you could... Trust.

You took in a deep breath.

"I've... I've done this a couple of times before," you spoke, slowly, quietly. "It's been a while since the last time, but— it's— it's just scary, Rafa."

Your voice trembled, and you hung your head.

"And I feel like it's so silly to be scared of it. It's always so obvious that I am, because I get too focused on trying to relax that I never really do, and then in the end I can only ever make up for it by letting them finish. So I— I don't know. Everyone says that couples always do this, like it's supposed to be a staple... Or else, what are they for, right?"

You let out a dry, sarcastic laugh, but it almost came out as if you were scolding yourself.

"Wait—hold on. You... You've never orgasmed?"

You blinked in surprise this time, looking up at him with a confused frown. "Huh? Only on my own, I guess... Never with them, no, but—"

"Oh, princess..." he began, almost like a whisper. "You've never enjoyed it, have you...? To call it a staple... Gosh. It's not something necessary to maintain a relationship, let's get that out of your pretty head first."

You watched him bring his hand over to the side of your face, a gentle caress.

"I don't know if humans really do think such fickle things, but I wouldn't leave you just because you won't go further with me. I want you to be ready before we go there. Okay? God, who have you been with?! They sound like the worst kind of humans!"

Despite yourself, you laughed at his indignation, watching him fall back against the couch with his arms crossed.

"No, seriously, baby—doesn't it sound wrong to you?! You know, I wouldn't have stopped until you came. In fact, I bet I could make you feel so much better than they ever could—" He paused, ears turning slightly red in telltale embarrassment. "...Sorry. I'll be totally patient, I really mean it. I was just, you know... saying..."

You giggled.

Rafayel was always cute when he was embarrassed, even if just a few moments ago, he'd so obviously reduced you to just a puddle through his kissses alone.

But his words, once again, made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. When you looked at him, his eyes were as gentle as the waves of the ocean you'd grown to love almost as much as him, and you couldn't help but feel... safe.

You'd never really felt safe before—not with anyone else.

Any time you opened up about this, your previous partners would have scoffed in your face—would have told you there couldn't have been a basis for what you felt, and that there was nothing more irrational than all of these needless worries of yours.

It was silly.

You had always believed that.

Yet you couldn't help feeling the way that you did.

Whenever you experienced sexual intimacy with anyone else, though you had let it happen in the end, you had never... associated it with anything special. Like you'd said, it only ever felt a mandatory part of any relationship. It was like going through the motions, and then you'd find out that you'd been a terrible experience—no matter how pretty they said you were, no matter how much you'd always be told that they were looking forward to it.

You were disappointing.

That was what conclusion you'd come up with, after several times of the same result.

And you always envied your friends, too.

Whenever the topic came up, they'd speak of how magical it was—how sweet, and how loving, and how good it felt... Yet you'd felt none of that. If there was anything good you associated with sex at all, it had been you—by yourself—in your room.

You really didn't know how to reconcile all of these feelings together—

And, yet, Rafayel had been the very first one to let it slide in a way that put your feelings first.

You promised him you wouldn't make him wait...

Yet here he was, adamant on letting you do exactly that.

You looked up at him, again, listening to him guide the conversation elsewhere, talking about how his week had been, and how painful it had been to get that painting done.

"You haven't seen it yet, have you? Hmm... I'm thinking if I should show you. I guess my girlfriend can have early access to it before the exhibition, right...?" He had one hand resting on your back, the other brought up to his chin in thought. "What do you think? Do you want to see it now?"

You stared, silently, as his eyes were back on yours.

That familiar, adorable tilt of his head, the inquisitive gaze in his eyes bringing that familiar shine to it that you loved, loved, loved, so very dearly.

You watched a small smile form on his features, and he pulled you close enough to have your foreheads touch.

"Hey. What's on your mind, cutie? You're spacing out again. Everything okay?"

God. You really loved him.

Even the simplest phrase had the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around almost mercilessly, and if you hadn't known better, you thought you were very likely blushing in that moment.

"Just you," you spoke, softly, quietly, barely even registering that you'd spoken so honestly in front of him before you recognized the look of surprise on his face. "Shit—I mean—"

"Nuh-uh, no take-backs! I like it when you're honest," he cut you off with a laugh, placing a quick peck on your lips.

Though he didn't say anything more on the subject, you knew he was thinking it—even if you'd tease, endlessly, of Rafayel's own clingier habits, you knew that in the end that you could easily eat your own words.

Rafayel was so good to you.

Sometimes you'd think he was too good to you—too good for you.

But admitting it out loud was always so difficult to you; your honesty of your own overwhelming feelings for him often more than you could speak to him yourself.

He reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ears.

"Maybe we should go to sleep, yeah? It's pretty late. You've worked hard!"

Slowly, you moved to straddle his lap, and then buried your face into his neck.

"...Princess..."

"...Are you really okay with this, Rafa?"

"Me? I told you, I'm perfectly fi—"

"I just—I could make you feel good, at least..."

Maybe you'd let him consume your thoughts more than you'd intended, or maybe the guilt was simply eating away at you, having never been truly placated. You didn't know which side of emotions you were acting upon, and perhaps, it seemed as if he'd sensed that.

"Baby... No. We're not going to do it tonight. I want you to set your mind straight first."

"But—"

"No buts!"

He lifted you off of his lap, another firm shake of his head. "I want to ease you into this. And that means I won't be taking any pleasure for my own just yet, because I want you to feel good."

"...Wh- What do you...?"

He smiled, before poking your forehead.

"I mean, I want you to be comfortable around me first, before you even think of trying to give me an orgasm." Rafayel gave your hand another squeeze. "I'm hoping I can at least show you that it's not supposed to be a bad experience. So we'll sleep on it first, clear our heads, take things slowly... Then we'll see how things go from there. 'Kay?"

"Rafa..."

"Baby, relax. No rush. I'm not going anywhere."

Rafayel was always so good to you.

Even through your biggest insecurities, there would be no exception.

It had been quite some time since that conversation, and, sure enough, he had been adamant on taking things slower with you. You could feel it, how he'd constantly hold himself back with you. The way he would be sure not to take it too far when he kissed you, always respectfully lifting you off of his lap whenever he felt like it would get too much if you continued...

He took things step by step, just like he said he would. From kisses, to slowly dipping his hands beneath your clothes—You had found, over the past couple of days, how warm his hands were around your breasts, cupping and kneading them like a perfect fit. It was comfortable. And it had become almost a staple to your cuddling sessions over time.

Those nights in his bed slowly, slowly became less than innocent as weeks passed by.

And then one other night, you'd finally gained the courage to let him go even further. His fingers were long, able to reach deeper inside of you than you ever could, and the stretch in your walls felt more than welcome after so long. It was just as you'd fantasized—he'd buried his fingers knuckle-deep into your cunt, slow thrusts gradually picking up the pace until you were trembling around him, his arms holding you safe as you released. Even now, when you thought back to that night, you felt tingles all over your body. It was the first time anyone had made you cum, the first time anyone had bothered to cradle you in their arms afterwards, the first time anyone had cleaned you up without you having to do it yourself—

You hadn't known that this could really feel so intimate.

So loving.

That Rafayel could ease all your worries away, so... naturally.

It had gotten to the point that you began to notice a boldness in both of your actions—you were growing more comfortable with him, like he'd intended you to, and now, you found yourself gladly on your knees, feeling the drag of his cock against the walls of your mouth.

He'd gotten you to cum from his fingers and his mouth multiple times over the past few days, and you had promised him—promised him—that you were only returning the favor because you wanted to. Because through the past weeks, Rafayel had been gentle with you, and patient—always asking for your consent, never pushing you to do anything you didn't want to, never even giving a thought to his own pleasure as long as it meant focusing on yours.

And this, you thought to yourself with a smile, was now a reward for for him just as much as it was for you.

Your eyes closed as you swirled circles over the tip of his length, taking your time with him as he often did with you. Your tongue ran up and over his cock, wetting him fully becore taking him in again, keening at the way his hips would stutter and his moans would reach your ears in a well-received melody.

"Fuck, yeah—Just like that, princess—" Rafayel's words were broken, his eyes half lidded as he watched you work him. "So good for me, baby—ngh, shit—"

You found his praises go straight to your core, eager to please him, eager to hear more. And in effect, your pace quickened, bobbing your head up and down his shaft, stroking and sucking him with a new hunger. His hands tangled in your hair, the sensation more than welcome as he guided you into a rhythm, hips bucking upwards to meet your mouth.

"So, so good— Feels so good, princess, don't stop—"

Another tug on your hair had you moaning against him, feeling him throb in your mouth at the extra stimulation.

He was close.

Determined to take in the sight, you watched, fondly, as his head fell back into the pillows, the skin of his thigh hot to the touch, your eyes drawn to the way his mouth hung open, his own eyes squeezing shut.

"Shit— M'gonna—! Gonna cum, baby, pleas—"

He arched his back, his hands fleeing from your hair to fist into the sheets beneath him. It hit in an instant, then—the sheer intensity having rendered him silent, mouthing curses, eyes still shut as streaks of cum shot out of him and onto your tongue.

You were familiar with the taste; warm in your mouth, and salty—thick. There was a certain discomfort to it, swallowing every last drop, but it couldn't compare to the thrill of it. Having Rafayel finally cum in your mouth, finally come undone for you... Your eyes locked as you released him with a wet 'pop', licking your lips and then hastily wiping your mouth with a little smile.

"Damn... That was..." He was breathless, chest heaving, barely moving to allow you to climb back up on the bed and reach for the bottle of water on his nightstand. "You're really... Really good at that, princess."

Feeling warm at another word of praise from him, you exchanged the bottle for the washcloth beside it, and crawled over to gently pat him clean.

"...Baby, I can—"

"If you won't let me do it when I finish, then I won't let you, either."

Your gaze was firm, and he laughed.

"Well played. My habits are growing on you, huh, cutie? That's good."

He pulled you up into his arms for a kiss, and you snuggled into his embrace. The heat from his skin was comforting—another thing you'd slowly gotten used to, having your activities now easily practiced without the need for any more clothes on.

"...How are you feeling? Was that okay?" He mumbled into your hair as you buried your face into his chest, lifting your leg over him as if to draw him even closer to you. You nodded quietly, and a soft sigh escaped his lips when you brushed your wetness against his still-sensitive cock. "Princess... Did sucking me off get you all wet?"

You could hear the laugh in his voice, and you whined.

"You— you made me wait to do that!" You protested, and you didn't need to look up to know he had that ever-present smirk on his face. "...I wanted to make you cum, too..."

He only replied with a chuckle, trailing his hand down your back to settle upon your waist. "I know. And thank you, by the way. Your mouth feels heavenly. Did you know that?"

You swat at his arm playfully. "Rafayel!"

"What? I'm only saying the truth! And, anyway..." You squealed when he leaned over to nip at your earlobe, completely sure of how flushed you were in that moment. "You're drenched, so which one will it be? My tongue? My fingers? My thigh?"

When you didn't reply immediately, he gently gave you squeeze. "Or do you want to sleep it off? We don't have to do anything if you—"

"N- no!"

You looked up, pouting, and found that the mirth in his gaze had melted away into one of pure adoration.

"I... I think..." You gulped, your eyes traveling downward to where you rest over him.

Your heart beat wildly in your chest.

You would have been lying if you said you hadn't been thinking about it on a constant—how he would feel inside you. And though you'd thought about it generally before, you found yourself warming up to the idea. Craving it, even, in a way you hadn't before.

You raised your head to meet his eyes again, holding your breath as you moved to straddle him, sliding your folds over his cock gently.

The moan that he let out was music to his ears, but when his hands gripped your waist tightly, you stopped.

"Fuck, wait—are you sure, princess?"

You smiled slightly at that.

Truly, Rafayel had been nothing but gentle with you; nothing but patient.

You nodded.

"I-I mean... Only if you want to? But you just came, right...? S-so, maybe not... Sorry, I don't mean to be needy, you can just—"

"Hey, hey. Deep breaths for me first, baby, yeah? Relax."

Immediately, his hands were rubbing soothingly into your sides, and you fell forward onto his chest, holding him close.

"Don't you worry about being needy with me, I don't think I'm any less needier than you, anyway," he laughed. "I want this. I really want this. But, princess... I need to know that you aren't forcing yourself into it."

You remained silent, only managing a nod.

"Look at me?"

Compliant, you raised your head once more, and Rafayel reached over to thread his fingers through your hair. He smiled.

"Verbal consent, princess. I've given you mine. Now, I need your confirmation before we do anything. Have you decided? Do you want me?"

Your heart swelled in your chest.

You didn't know how Rafayel could be so selfless with you.

None of the others you've been with would ever treat you this way, and it was... new.

It was true, what he said—it wasn't a secret to you how much he wanted you. Though he wouldn't say it, so determined not to make you feel pressured, you'd see it in the way he looked at you. The way he touched you. Even the way he spoke with you—always the more vocal one in terms of clinginess, even though you, yourself, secretly enjoyed his attention.

You'd understood from the start that he was doing his best to stay firm in his self control just for you, and it made you feel warm—Loved. Appreciated.

Even now, as you were sitting on his cock, readjusting your position only to have it poke against your back—he was patiently waiting for your answer. He was waiting for you to be sure about this.

You thought it ironic, almost.

It wasn't as if this was your first time, and yet... you'd never experienced someone be so gentle with you.

With another determined nod, you sat back up, placing your hands on your lap.

"Okay," you said, and took a deep breath. "I'm sure, Rafayel. I want you."

You swore you could feel the way his cock twitched at your words, and couldn't help the way your lips quirked into another smile.

He read your expression, and laughed. "You really drive me insane, princess."

His hands remained firm on your hips, gently lifting you off—"Do you want to stay on top? Set your pace for me?"

"...Um... Do you?"

"Baby, don't turn this back to me! Doesn't matter what I want right now, I wanna make this about you. In case you haven't noticed, I'd be more than happy to take you in any way you want me to."

You almost rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "...Okay, then... I'll try it like this. But, Rafayel, sometimes it's concerning how much you pay attention to my needs..."

"Me? Concerning? Says the one who's had some of the worst sexual experiences on the planet!" He scoffed. "Listen, princess. I say this a lot, but you understand, right? I'm not in this relationship for your body. I'm not using you for your body. I love you, because you're you, and not just so I get to fuck you some day." He paused, then, and you saw a flash of contemplation in his eyes, "...Which miiiight be today, but that's besides the point."

You laughed, this time, and perhaps in any other situation, you'd playfully hit his chest, and tell him to stop being so silly. But the lighthearted atmosphere was welcome, and you felt your shoulders slump in some sort of relief.

"I know, Rafa. I..." You bit your lip, steeling yourself, willing yourself to say it. "I... I-I love you, too."

Immediately, you watched his eyes widen, a certain shine in them that almost could have made you melt.

"...Seriously?" he whispered. "You mean it?"

You flushed at the way he sounded so much in disbelief, despite what you were about to do. But, perhaps, you understood the shock that he displayed. While he would often use the words around you—having made it clear that they were his feelings, and that you didn't have to reciprocate them immediately—you had yet to say it back.

You did love him.

Of course you did.

And you have, for a while now.

But it wasn't easy to speak these feelings out loud; wasn't easy to make yourself so affectionate and so vulnerable around him. At least, not as easy as it has been for him. It had been long established that Rafayel was the more expressive one—though he would tone things down with playful jokes and banter to match your pace of things, you knew that his feelings had been nothing but genuine for you.

And you'd always struggled to make sure that he knew you felt the same, but...

You nodded.

You could do it, this time. Give back all the love that he'd always given you.

Slowly, you reached behind you to guide his cock to your entrance, letting out a slow breath at the feeling of his tip—hot, and wet, and stiff—prodding your hole.

"I love you," you whispered, feeling confident, now, as you spoke.

His fingers dug into your skin as he gasped, finally having you slowly lower yourself down onto his cock. "Fuck," he muttered. His eyes closed—you could tell he was fighting the urge to thrust up into you. "You feel so... so..."

A loud whine rattled past your lips when he finally pressed all the way inside of you, so big, and so filling, like nothing else you've ever had before.

"Shit," he continued to curse under his breath. "So—so good, baby."

His hands, shaky, massaged your hips in reassurance, eyes opening to reveal a hazy glimmer of lust that you had yet to see on his face before. The image before you made you shiver—every ounce of self control was slowly slipping away from him, and he was trembling with the little bit of patience he still had left in his body.

"M-move," he whimpered, looking up at you with pleading eyes that made you gasp. "Please, princess—please—can you do that for me?"

Your jaw clenched, and you obliged—how could you resist?

You rocked your hips slowly, at first, getting used to the feeling of him in side you. And, you found—you were enjoying this. Whatever you'd imagined could never compare; he felt good inside you. Every sensation you felt of his cock against your center was pleasurable, every moan that fell from his lips having you swirl your hips with a need to hear more.

You bit your lip when he slowly began to rut his hips up to meet your pelvis, now finding the strength to guide your hips gently up and down his length—

"Fuck, baby, don't hide from me, please," he moaned, eyes locking with yours with an air of desperation. "Haah—Let me hear you—hear how good it feels—'s it feel good, princess?"

You found yourself obedient.

As his tip knocked up against your sensitive spot, a loud moan spilled from your lips—immediately, you rest your hands on his chest as your head hung, feeling yourself bounce to his rhythm, hips moving in sync.

"F-feels good, 'fayel— Ah—!"

"Yeah? Like that, baby? That spot, huh?"

You grinded down on his cock, eyes screwing shut at the sound of your arousal slicking around him. His words guided you through your motions, whisperes of praise and reassurance that had you soaring—and you could feel it. The tightness that had gathered in your stomach, slowly, slowly building into something more—but so far away, so unobtainable, that it had you whining.

"R-Rafayel!" You cried as you leaned forward, burying your face into his chest. Even as he planted his feet on the bed and thrust up into you, picking his pace up a little and grunting into your ear, you shook your head— "M-more, please— I— I can't—"

"Oh, fuck, princess—"

He groaned when you clenched tightly around him, and with quick movements, he had you lying on your back, caged between his arms as breathless pants fell from his lips.

"I—fuck, baby... Are you okay with this? I'll—Shit— Sorry, I m-moved—"

He'd snapped his his hips back into yours the minute you wrapped your legs around his waist, but when he looked at you, your own eyes filled with a desire that dared to rival his own, he let out a slow breath.

"...Okay?" he whispered.

You nodded. "Please."

Rafayel laced his fingers through with yours, holding them against the pillow. At your consent, he resumed his pace, fucking deep into your cunt with thrusts so precisely rubbing against your spot that you closed your eyes with another loud moan.

"Ah, Rafa—Rafayel, s-so good—"

Any thoughts of holding back your sounds were lost in the pleasure raking through your body, feeling the way his cock would brush against all the right places. So thorough, and so loving—and so, so good.

Rafayel was making you feel good.

Better than you've ever felt—better than your fingers, and better than his, and you thought—

Fuck.

You wished you'd gotten to do this sooner.

"P-princess," he whimpered, hips stuttering as he pressed his forehead against yours, drowning a myriad of moans of your name with the way he kissed you. So needy with his touches, you melted into him like you always did, easily following his thrusts and receiving everything he could give you.

"Princess—are you—are you safe?" he breathed.

You could feel the way he tensed inside you, his hips slowing slightly into a pace that had you whining as he waited for your reply.

"Can I... Can I cum inside? If—If you—"

It almost seemed like he could barely form coherent words, and you smiled slightly. Your arms wrapped around his neck; "I'm safe," you mumbled. "Go ahead, Rafa."

The moan that he let out sent a shiver down your spine, and then his lips were on your neck, kissing and sucking—you didn't even mind, anymore, whether or not he'd be leaving marks on you by the time you were done. Groans spilled from his lips between his kisses, and you felt yourself moaning along with him. The pace he'd set picked up, no longer as gentle as you'd started with, but you found that it was more than welcome.

"C-Cumming," you shut your eyes, breathing out his name in endless chants into his hair. "Cumming, Rafa, I—!"

You felt it.

The throbbing of his cock as he spilled rope after rope of cum into your cunt, just in time with your own release. Your nails dug into his scalp as you clenched sporadically around him, throwing your head back with a drawn-out moan of his name, feeling yourself drown in the sheer intensity of it.

"Rafayel—!"

"Fuck—Fuck—Take it, princess— Shit—" He hissed into your neck, pumping his cum into you, moans falling back into whimpers.

A moment passed after, and you smiled contentedly as he hugged you, pulling out of you but still so determined to keep you close to him.

"...R- Rafayel?" You whispered, soothingly stroking his hair. And only then did he look at you.

Your breath caught at his expression.

Tired, undeniably, but so... tender.

"Hey..." he mumbled, slowly moving up to give you a quick kiss. "Can you say it again?"

"H-huh? Say what...?" You felt your face grow even warmer at the mere thought of all the things you'd possibly moaned in the midst of your lust.

But he only smiled. "What you said, earlier. Say that you love me."

A giggle bubbled at your throat, and you pushed him onto the space next to you—

Naturally, he only pulled you back against him, arms wrapping around you, tucking you under his chin.

"C'monnnn, baby. Please?"

It was so hard for you to say no to him like this.

You turned around to face him, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"I love you, Rafayel," you mumbled with a smile.

His expression relaxed.

"...And, thank you. For always making me feel so loved. I've never... I've never thought it could feel like this, a-and..."

"Did you like it?"

"More than liked it! I... I enjoyed it. Really. Thank you."

He grinned, then, gently setting you down on the bed and placing a kiss on your forehead. "Then, mission accomplished! So... Let's clean you up before we sleep, yeah? We can have another round in the morni—"

"Rafayel!"

"I'm kidding!"

⁺₊ / an: holy shit this took an eternity to write??!?!?!! nearly 8k words, what do u know... all this love for the birthday boy, this is an insane amount of special treatment for rafayel fr 🍰

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[ivysangel]

READ BETWEEN THE LINES (JASON TODD)

NOTES/CW - continuation of this post, literally just straight up porn, fem!reader, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, -17 dni, my first time writing smut in this format so plz be nice this shit is NOT for the weak !!! (1.7k)

It's about an hour before Jason caps the highlighter in his hand, having skimmed over the entire book in record time, picking out five or six quotes that would boost your essay into A territory. Except, you weren't concerned about the essay or what grade you got. Yeah, sure, when you had first invited him over, it was genuinely because you needed feedback, but now you have the feedback

"It's written well, only problem is that you need better quotes."

You remember his words as clear as day because they're the reason why Jason had been occupied with your assignment and not the ache between your legs. Now that his perusal of quotes was over, finished, done, and the book was closed, you could finally get relief from something other than your thighs being squeezed together so tight the blood flow was being cut off from your lower extremities.

He carefully cleans up the area, stacking papers strewn across the table and putting pens away. It may have seemed like he was just tidying the table, but you knew that he was messing with you. Typically, you wouldn't give in so easily, but your body was getting hotter by the second, and there was a thin sheen of sweat forming on your back.

God, it was hot. The room was hot, your sweater was hot, and your boyfriend was so fucking hot; and so fucking annoying.

"Jason," you murmur, shifting in your seat as his eyes rake up your figure, shrouded in cozy brown wool. "you said...please, can you just-"

A breathy laugh escapes his lips, and he shakes his head, raking a hand through jet-black hair. He slides the chair back, stands up, and walks over to where you sit. Hovering over you and looking down at your face, which could only be described as pitiful. Your eyes are wide, and your mouth's parted slightly as you manually breathe. Yeah, you look pathetic, but it's not surprising, given the tortuous amount of arousal you were feeling and how badly you needed to get it out of your system.

"Jason." you say again, needier this time. "you said you would..." You trail off, pleading eyes find his as he looks down at you amusedly. His hands make their way to your cheeks, and he tugs at your head ever so slightly, prompting you to stand up.

"You're cute when you get like this," he says before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips. You bring your arms around his neck, tugging him closer to you and deepening the kiss. It very quickly devolves into a mess of tongue as your hands eagerly roam his body, sliding up his shirt and running over the rippled abs he keeps hidden away.

"Woah, easy girl," he says, pulling back, and you whimper at the sudden absence of contact between you. "I'm not gonna fuck you standing up." He looks up for a second, seemingly in thought, "At least not today."

The next part happens fast. He grips the back of your thighs, hoisting you up and around his waist, and you gasp at the sudden lack of floor beneath your feet. One hand stays on your leg while the other finds the small of your back, and he walks you over to the couch, laying you down gently.

"You're so impatient sometimes, you know that?" his hands push your sweater up a bit, and you grab the hem, pulling it over your bra and holding it at your neck. "I waited for like two hours." you breathe out as he places a few wet, open-mouthed kisses on your stomach before moving downwards and unbuttoning your jeans, tugging them and your underwear down in one swift movement. "oh, but I'm the impatient one."

He comes back up to your face, a dumb fucking grin playing on his lips, and he kisses you so gently you're slightly taken aback. "I love you," he says, nuzzling his face into your neck and breathing in your scent.

"Love me so much you're skipping the foreplay?"

"Watching you try not to finger fuck yourself for two hours was the foreplay, babe."

You tug at the hem of his shirt, and he gets the message, sitting up for a second and pulling it over his head. He tosses it over the side of the couch, then climbs off you to move onto his pants, and you take the opportunity to lift yourself slightly, removing what was left of your outfit before looking over your shoulder and tossing it behind you. When you turn back around, you're met with the bright pink tip of Jason's cock, white beads of pre-cum collecting on his tip. You've seen him naked dozens of times. Touched him, sucked him, fucked him; dozens of times. But you never really get used to how attractive he is and how much more turned on you get when you see how turned on he is by you.

He pulls you towards him by the foot, and you giggle, knowing what's to come. A calloused hand grabs hold of one of your legs, lifting it up and exposing your cunt. The inside of your thighs, already soaked from the sheer amount of wetness coming from your pussy. "Jesus Christ," he breathes, and you prop yourself up on your elbows, tilting your head down to see what he sees. Even you're shocked at how much your own folds were glistening. You glance up at him, and he gives you a questioning look, a silent "Do you think we need to prepare?" and you take another peek in between your legs, decidedly shaking your head no.

Still holding your leg up with one hand, he grabs his cock with the other, stroking it a couple times and coating it in pre-cum, before lining it up with your entrance. You feel his tip prodding at your hole, and you bite down on your lip, already imagining how good it'll feel when he's inside you.

"You ready?" 

"Do you even have to ask?"

He slides inside of you with little resistance, but you still feel how agonizingly good the stretch is. He lets out a long, drawn-out groan, stilling completely before pulling out and pushing back in all the way. He moves steadily, rocking his hips back and forth, in and out. Each stroke hits deep, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. The thickness of his cock giving you an ache so good you think you might die if you never got to experience it again. He quickens his pace a little, your tits bouncing every time his hips make contact with your pussy, and your hands find the cushions of the couch, gripping them every time he hits your sweet spot.

His free hand grabs your other thigh, pushing it towards you, and you hook your arms under your knees, bringing them to your chest, allowing him to reach even deeper than before. He leans in closer, pressing your legs further into your body, and your thighs ache. Still, the pleasure you feel overshadows the pain by a long shot.

A few groans escape Jason's lips, he's never been much of a talker during sex, and you've never really cared because the sounds he makes are enough to keep you clenching around his dick until the end of time. "Fuck." he mutters, and that alone is enough to make the familiar knot in your stomach start to unravel. You unhook one of your arms and squeeze your hand into the incredibly tight space between your legs, rubbing fast circles around your clit, while you feel Jason's pace start to falter.

Your back arches, and you lean your head so far back into the couch that you can't see his face anymore. The lewd sounds of your cunt sucking up his dick fill the room, and it's only a few seconds before you start seeing white. An overwhelming sense of euphoria washes over your body as you dig your nails into the soft cushion of the couch, and he fucks you through your orgasm, continuously kissing your cervix until you feel his cock twitch inside of you as he spills hot streams of cum inside your cunt.

Your lungs painfully expand as you try to make up for the lack of oxygen from holding your breath through your orgasm, and you tilt your head forward into a position where you can see him. Your hand makes its way up into his hair, his head hanging low, face out of view as you both catch your breath. You tug at his locks lightly, and he lifts his head, following your eyes to the legs that were squished between the two of you. Pulling back from you and holding himself up with his arms, he gives you space to stretch out on either side of the couch. You finally get a good look at him as he sits above you, hair clinging to his forehead, cheeks flushed red, and light-catching on the little bit of sweat clinging to his skin. God, you could fuck him again right now.

"You need to be spayed. This can't keep happening," he says, knowing exactly what you're thinking.

"What am I, a fucking cat?" you ask, feigning offense.

"No, but you have the libido of one in heat." he leans down again, hovering above your face, breathing out a shaky laugh. And even though your legs have gone limp, and your lungs hurt from how heavy you've been breathing, you still clench around him, seemingly ready to go again. "Nope," he says, climbing off you and gently pulling out. You wince, the sudden emptiness unbearable. He's right; you do need to be spayed. 

"I know you have the stamina for it," you joke, eyes following him as he picks up various articles of clothing off the floor before taking them to the hamper in the bathroom. You hear the sound of water running, and he returns with a wet rag in hand. "I know I do," he walks over to you, lifting one of your legs to give him better access to the mess between your thighs. "the question is, do you?"

You let out an airy laugh, watching him furrow his brows as he wipes down your legs, intent on cleaning you up. "Wanna find out?" you ask; he looks up from the mess to see the grin on your face before returning to the task at hand. 

"There's something seriously wrong with you." 

i hope you guys enjoyed this, it literally stressed me tf out !! again, my first time writing like a real smut scene so if it's not good then yk why. tell your favorite smut writers you love them because i can tell you from experience, this is much harder than it seems !!

[lunarw0rks]

sweet thing | part one

˖⁺‧₊˚ read it on ao3 | masterlist | ask box | next part

price takes a liking to his neighbor. vulnerable, expecting, and in need of his helping hand. it's a good thing he always wanted a family.

john price x pregnant!reader (based on this idea of mine.)

warning(s): MDNI (18+); NOT EDITED, price is touch starved and kinda pathetic, pregnancy, angst/depression, alcoholism, fluff, fem!reader [wc: 1.3k]

Involuntary stress leave, they called it.

But for John, it was just short of decay. Sedentary, bitter—restless. Stuck at home while there's still a fight to be fought, men who need guidance. His men.

Before the stress does him in, he figures boredom will close in on him first, and it would be less merciful than any bullet or blade. Chores are a necessity, and hobbies are nothing more than a temporary soothe to his aches.

Every morning, irony wakes him up cold. Takes its pound of flesh. The world he devoted his adult life to fighting for, has nothing in it for him.

(Stiff fingers, heaving chest, bile in his throat, tremors marring his nervous system.)

It's hours before he can shake the feeling, so he compromises by rising at ungodly hours and fulfilling a rigid routine—still a trained soldier to his core. And by nightfall, he nurses a bottle until he's warm again, ready for the reset at dawn.

As they gaze out the window, his eyes search for purpose. Two fingers parting the blinds. Something, anything, please. But nothing. The sharp sting of cheap booze rushes past his teeth, and he's ready to retreat.

He winces through the taste before he's at attention again. The rumble of an engine cut short right next door. He angles himself to catch a clear view of the person. Instinct yells for him to be vigilant, but the sight in front of him snuffs the bellow.

The flow of a slip dress in the breeze, sticky strands of hair pulled back, glowing skin, a nurturing hand resting on the bump that shows through the fabric.

You look anything but thrilled while you wrangle your bags and fight the wind gusts, and you're well aware of it.

All John sees is bloom. Purpose. Duty.

Before he can gather all his wits, he's closed the front door behind him, his spilled bottle dribbling along the end table. It's not so much your beauty that drives him; he isn't a superficial man and can't afford to be.

A living, breathing person is what quickens his stride. Someone to talk to. Someone to touch and study. As of late, the only people near have been on the other side of the TV screen, fueled by dramatics and in character.

You find yourself stuck in your headspace again, mentally listing all the tasks that await you inside your house. Chores, mostly, some grocery shopping—and loads more of that endless baby planning. Relaxation wasn't an option and you're actively learning to accept that. Although, it's admittedly difficult to feel any other way when you've got another human to consider now.

John clears his throat. "Let me take tha' for you, darling."

He waits until you meet his stare to extend a hand, fingers grazing the flimsy straps of your shopping bags. You freeze, soaking in the sight of him.

"Hm?" Your brows knit together, and it's only then that you catch up with him.

"Your bags."

The man has already taken them before the words finish rolling off his tongue, but he stays in place.

A soft chuckle comes out of you to crack open the sheet of embarrassment. "Sorry, I'm a little out of it today."

Pregnancy brain, you want to blame it on. But deep down you know it's because kindness is a new taste nowadays.

Most are courteous and accommodating, making way for you. Others look at you like dirt on their shoes. Fatigue draining your features doesn't help, and neither does the absence of a wedding band. Early on, you were naive enough to believe society had moved beyond the stigma. Wrong, more wrong, and a fool is all you are nowadays, even if only in your head.

Exhausted, not out of it, he analyses, and his heart aches.

"It's alright." His voice is smooth as nectar, leaving goosebumps on your skin that you'll chalk up to the wind. "Shouldn't be carrying all this by yourself, anyhow."

You fight the urge to scoff and instead lead the way to the front porch.

He's right. You shouldn’t be doing any of this alone.

Turning the key, you step inside and let the words spill. “Yeah, I, uh— I didn’t have anyone to call.”

Price should be more shocked by your words, but he isn’t. He is really, and truly, desensitized to all the misfortune around him. And it’s not any different with you. His eyes—conditioned to spot every minute detail of a person—took milliseconds to notice your left hand.

Feel her out. Find out more.

“That so?” He questions softly but doesn’t give you a chance to respond. You’ve painted the whole picture and more.

His words are full of every sensibility possible. “That’s a shame.” Pity. Empathy. Grief. Outrage. All except condescension; none of this is your fault, he can sense it.

You expect admonition.

Leading a stranger inside is bad enough, and walking the fine line between small talk and oversharing is worse.

But you can’t bring yourself to taste it. Outside of some coworkers and your mother, this is your first taste of organic interaction, and it’s been overwhelmingly amicable so far. Not something you can take lightly; loneliness is prevalent.

You let out a tired sigh, letting the silent gesture speak for itself. What else can you say? He's already got you pegged after spending all but two minutes with you. Makes you wonder how you haven't noticed him sooner, though you remember his driveway is usually vacant and the blinds are always closed.

By now, it's obvious that if he had ill intentions, he would've acted on them by now. The silence isn't thick or stiff—it's refreshing, oddly enough.

When his mouth upturns, the crow's feet around his eyes are made visible. They've witnessed things, awful things, no doubt. But he's also got a world of wisdom in them.

This is the part where you find a farewell, something moderately polite so you don't feel awful for kicking him out. (Not your fault you need to rest your feet. At least you get the sense that he'll understand.)

In search for the words, you place a hand on your stomach, "well, it was kind of you to bring that in, uh—"

"—John." He interjects.

Out of habit, you form a clumsy smile and ache to get the proper words out. "It was very kind of you, John. Thank you."

Without any further direction, he's able to pick up on your hints for him to make his exit. The bar is so low these days, it's almost shocking. Shuffling to follow him to the front door, your hand seizes the knob.

There's a lot left unsaid, despite meeting your handsome neighbor only a short time ago. The voice inside urges you to keep it short. Send him off, get out of his hair. He was just being nice.

"I should thank you again," you blurt, almost abruptly. Price turns on his heels with little surprise, a leer written on his thin lips. "Next time, I'll take another trip to carry the bags."

"No next time, love." A purr and a new nickname.

Too smitten to even notice the ruffle of some paper when he reaches a hand in his pocket. Even stole the pen off your entry table (a.k.a the junk-pile-of-mail-table) and you were none the wiser. Dated, the way he scribbles on the crumbled receipt and hands it to you between his index and middle.

Heat rises up your neck and to your face when you inch closer to retrieve the number, somehow finding it within yourself to not break eye contact. John's gaze stays genuine, despite the puff of his chest and the way he breathes your scent in shamelessly.

Albeit frazzled—you weren't born yesterday; he's attractive and extremely luring and you're single and hormonal. Wouldn't take much for something to happen.

And if not, you know you'll have fond daydreams, at the very least.

"You ever need anything, give me a call. 'M good for more than bag carrying."

[milky-aeons]

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆

౨ৎ . . . in which a man with no reason to live finds an unlikely one through the tribulations of being a father.

warnings: emotional dysregulation, slight angst, unplanned pregnancy, alcohol consumption, poor parenting (in the beginning), conflict, suicidal ideation, depression, depictions of birth, female reader, healing, w.c 2.4k

♪ . . . ˗ˏˋ ꒰ dancing on my own — vitamin string quartet ꒱ ˎˊ-

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who wasn't ready to be a mother. Not now, perhaps not ever — was a rule you had laid in stone for yourself as a free-spirit intent on enjoying life to its fullest. It was why the world had tuned out into white noise when Yosano Akiko held the small test in her hand and spoke those terrifying words. With a shutter of sympathy in her eyes, coming to place a hand on your shoulder to give it a firm, comforting squeeze. She knew just as well how much you didn't want this to be true. Her touch felt condemning. You felt like you were going to vomit, just like you had been for the last four mornings in a row. Because how were you going to tell him?

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who didn't blink, didn't draw breath, didn't do anything when you let the words stumble from your mouth in one panicked rush. It was a bright afternoon deep into summer and the Agency's café was quiet — private enough for the two of you to have this conversation. You and Dazai Osamu — you were not an item, had been content to have casual shared nights together when either of you wanted to blow off a little steam. But that night, you had said to him, do you remember that night? When we were both drunk and stupid, so stupid?

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who, in that moment, decided not to grace you with any words. Instead, he did something far more uncharacteristic of him; he stayed quiet. He gave one shallow nod of his head and placed a hand softly onto the table so he could stand up. To steady himself, to ground himself back down when you had turned his world completely overhead, you did not know. And Dazai, who left you there, excusing himself in order to get some fresh air. The raking bastard that he was. Not once did he turn back to look you directly in the eye. Not even when you stood up, shouted his name, screamed at him, until tears spilled over your cheeks and your throat burned with the pain.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who saw life through a lens of grey in the couple of days following. Sometimes, you would feel so heavy that you did not wish to rise out of bed. The word swam around in your head like the song of a haunting ghoul — a mom, a mom, I am going to be a mom. Yosano would drop by your Agency apartment after work to see how you were doing, feeling your forehead, bringing you remedies to help with the nausea that roiled in your stomach. Every time, you would resist the temptation to ask where he was. And yet every time, Yosano would still tell you;

"He didn't come to work today, either."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who slowly came to grips with the fact that this was how it was going to be. The initial shock of it all was as relentless as it was condemning, but it was not infinite. The sun rose the next day, and the next, the world kept moving and you decided that you would have to, as well. That there was a little life growing inside your warm belly that needed a mother, no matter how unprepared you were for that fact. And, if you could do something about it, needed their father. You were not letting him just walk away from you, from the both of you, that easily.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who was exactly where you thought he would be when you set out that evening to find him. Of course, if he wanted to, Dazai Osamu had both the cleverness and the connections to absolutely disappear from the streets of Yokohama without a trace. If he wanted to, he could have abandoned you and this baby completely. But he didn't. Instead, he was here, laying sprawled long and lazy on his messy, unmade futon in his messy, unclean house, as if waiting to be found. When he heard you pass over the threshold of the door he didn't lock, he gave you a long, languid smile.

"My bewitching Beeella~! At looong last, she has come to tempt me!" He slurred his speech, bringing your attention to the heavy scent in the air and the dozen or so bottles strewn about haphazardly. His hair was matted and unwashed. He looked just like you, curled in your bed, refusing to move for days. But unlike you, he was completely and utterly intoxicated. "You look awful." You said in a low voice. Hurt at how he abandoned you in the coffee shop was still a fresh, gaping wound. As if his head was too heavy, Dazai let it flop back down onto the cushions. He waved his hands about. "And you... look just as beautiful... as always. But—It is a trap...! A ruuuuse! A beautiful Bellaaa, sent from my torment... to tie me to this mortal coil!"

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who let him ramble his litany of incoherencies. If only for a few merciful seconds. When you felt like you had had enough, or perhaps fearful with how far he'd take it, you kicked one of the empty glass bottles. It skirted across his floorboards and hit a neighbouring wall, exploding into countless little shards. He looked up then, attracted to the noise, trying to focus on you with his glazed whiskey-coloured eyes. In that moment, you stood your tallest, and just like the bottle you mustered up every last shred of yourself until you built it all back together.

"You." You pointed at him, feeling your voice come on thick, but strong. "You listen to me and listen to me well, I'm only going to say this once, and if you're too fucking drunk to remember it, then more is the pity. But I'm carrying your baby—our god damn baby. And if you're not going to step up and be the father they're going to need, then I'll be that for you. Just say the word, Dazai. Say the word and I'll leave. You'll never hear from me or this child ever again."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who said nothing in contest to that statement, but also said nothing to affirm it, either. His wide, unfocused eyes studied every feature on your face, trying to make sense of something you didn't know. And for a second, your heartrate kicked up. Because somewhere deep down inside, you wanted him to tell you to stay. You wanted him to sober up, to wear that charming, all-endearing smile and convince you that everything was going to be alright. But he didn't. And that was the moment you deflated with a sigh — laying out all the feelings you once had for him on the floor, ready to cast it to the wind. You had made it to his doorway when two strong, heavy arms came around you and all of his weight collapsed against your shoulders.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who buried his head into the crook of your neck, who's hair tickled your face and made your eyes sting with tears. He, who smelled of whiskey and liqueur, but in that moment, held you so tight, crushed you against his taller frame and croaked;

"Stay."

"Please... just, stay."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who seemed like he had undergone a transformation overnight. He always did have a strange knack for that — changing his persona so easily, crafting masks and façades. And maybe it was just that, at least in the beginning. But he had started to come back to work, again. You would enter the familiar doors early in the mornings to the tell-tale sounds of his teasing tone and Kunikida's threats. When you would walk in, he'd straighten up from whatever headlock the blond had trapped him into, and catch your eye.

"Good morning." You would whisper. "Good morning, beautiful Bella." He would murmur right back.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who became used to the weight in your tummy growing heavier each day. It was Atsushi, at first, who recognised the shift in your scent and the sound of a little heartbeat in your belly through his superior feline hearing. Soon after, everyone in the Agency were offering you gifts and well wishes. Dazai received a less warm ovation. Especially from Kunikida, who threatened to flush him into the drainage system if he even thought about being one of those shitty laid-back dads who let the mom do all the work.

"That's cruel, Kunikida-kun!" Dazai whined at him. "To think of the rigid, torturous lifestyle your children will have to endure!" He just barely dodged the office chair that was hurled at his head.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who, after a short while, began to let Dazai close to you again. And maybe it was foolish of you, to let that thing which always existed between you two take spark and kindle with new life. First, it was sitting together in the same booth in the coffee shop. Then, it was gentle, quiet touches — his hand brushing your back as he walked past, your fingers twining together underneath the desk where no one could see. He stole you away for long walks in the nearby park when you should have been working. To your protests, he'd pout, and say, but a pregnant lady needs to enjoy as much rest as she can~! And then, he'd kiss you. Underneath the great spurting fountain at the centre of the park. Long and sweet and promising.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who one time, when you were especially close to your due date and he was feeling especially silly, drew a large smiley face on your swollen belly. Or peppered a shower of kisses along the stretched skin, telling you she was taking too long, that he couldn't wait any longer and had too many kisses saved up for her, already. And on that day where you did go into labour, he held your hand, he placed those lips on your forehead and whispered gentle encouragements as you screamed through the pain.

"You are strong, my beautiful [Name]. Come on, can you give one more push? Just one more." "You're doing so great. You are so unbelievable, so resilient and brave. My beautiful Belladonna, that's it. You can do it."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who, along with the chorus of elated cries from the Armed Detective Agents, made a sound of disbelief when his baby girl came into the world. Slick and wet, red and crying, but beautiful. A copy of her mother's features but with a wild head of curly brown hair. An emotion Dazai had not felt in an extremely long time crept up the back of his throat. It made him laugh, it made his eyes smart with tears. And when he came to your side to see your baby be placed onto your bare chest, a single tear escaped from the side of his eye and got lost when he buried his head into your hair.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who never thought he would ever grow attached to someone. There was you, of course, but if he sat with the discomfort of viewing his life without you in it, it could be done. But trying to see his life without her — his little baby girl — his mind would simply draw a blank. It was unbearable, impossible. Before long, Dazai had insisted you move into his apartment so he could be closer to you. After, of course, you threatened him to scrub the entire place from head-to-toe and remove anything non-child friendly in a black plastic bag. And he did. He used those nimble, clever hands to build the baby a little wooden crib. He would rock her to sleep and place her down, only to watch her for minutes, hours, contemplating how in the world he was ever bestowed with such a blessing.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who sang lullabies to her. Who sang at every given chance he had. For he was such a lovely singer, his soft, velvety voice would be a common thing amongst the walls of your little apartment. Who would sit down with the toddler and teach her all the words he knew.

"Can you say 'Kunikida' my little star?" "Kuni—Kuni—Kooni—!" "Kun—ee—kee—dah!" On the 'dah', he'd pinch her nose. "Kun—eeeee—keeeee—dah!" "Wow~!" Dazai pinched her nose again and she giggled. "Darling, did you hear that? Our little star is a genius." "She takes after her father." You would say from around the bend of the kitchen. Praises and chuckles and the shrieks of a delighted baby would fill the air. Dazai would then drop his voice, thinking you wouldn't hear, and say, "Now, can you say, 'is a bore!'" "Dazai!"

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who always took his little girl to work with him. Everyone in the Agency fell in love with her very quickly. Atsushi would transform his hands into that of giant tiger paws, pretending to growl, letting her pull at the little tufts even though it hurt him just a tad. Ranpo would ask the little baby mind-numbing riddles, then laugh, proclaiming how she barely had any braincells, but not to worry, because when she's old enough, he'd take her as his apprentice. Kunikida, who would let her handle his little ideal book, and then hold back tears when she ripped one of the pages out of it. The little girl would hold the page up high and from her little perch on the table, shout,

"Kuneeekeeda... is... a boooore!"

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who was still laughing when he met you on the terrace roof of the Agency that night. He went straight for his little girl and held her up in the air, proclaiming that he was so proud of her. You would settle down together, just the three of you, huddled on the concrete tiles and watching the sun set over the skyline of Yokohama.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who would hold your daughter on your lap until her curly brown head of hair tilted into your shoulder and she snored softly. In that moment, you would crane your head onto Dazai's broad shoulder, and whisper;

"I'm glad I stayed."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who would run his long fingers across his sleeping daughter's face softly, so softly, so as not to wake her. Then, he would reach up to you and cup the side of your cheek, captivating you, looking at you with an expression so warm and tender as he whispered right back;

"And I am forever grateful."

✎ . . . requested by the lovely @ringsofsaturnnnn!

WRITING REQUESTS

[jasonsmirrorball]

real love, baby [1210]

a post-wedding moment between newlyweds (fluff, suggestive content but sfw)

“Can I see your hand?”

Jason passes it over his lap wordlessly, and you shift on your elbows to get a better look. The silver band wrapped around his finger glints in the lowlight, and you sink your teeth into your lip to fight back the squeal bubbling in your throat. Flicking your eyes up, you find blue-green eyes on you, a similar grin playing on his lips.

“Let me see yours,” he demands and you let go of his hand to sit up from where you’d been lounging on your stomach. You’re careful with the swathes of white fabric you’re still covered in as you move, the reception dress pooling around you as you extend your hand at him. Playfully, you wiggle your fingers at him, letting the ring catch the light. The pretty diamond winks at you, and you can’t help the little sigh that expels from your lips.

The hour is late and you ought to be getting to bed, but the excitement of the day has yet to settle, love curling in your stomach and wrapping tight around you. The both of you had been eager to escape the reception, dreamy as it had been, and the moment the door to your hotel room had shut you’d fallen back onto the plush sheets of the massive bed with a loud breath. Jason had quickly followed suit, but not before kicking off his dress shoes and slipping your own off, slumping on your left in the black tux you’d had a hard time dragging your eyes away from all evening.

“Mine now,” he breathes out, fingers circling your wrist. “Officially. I’ve got the papers to prove it.”

You grin. “Possessive, aren’t we?”

He inclines forward to nip at your neck and you squirm, giggling, batting him away. “You would be, if you were me. ‘Sides, don’t act like you’re any better. Feels like I’m getting mauled anytime you get your hands on me.”

Your smile stretches from ear to ear, it feels like, as you topple forward to kiss his face, arms coming around his neck. The movement is wobbly, the mattress underneath your knees too soft to remain upright, and you fall into his lap.

“Yes, well,” you sigh. “How else was I supposed to let everyone know you were taken? You have this ring now, but it would’ve been anybody’s guess, before.”

You can feel the metal of his ring press into the small of your back through the fabric of your dress. Jason mutters something, your ears catching the word menace, and tips his face up to catch your mouth with his.

“How’s it feel?” you mumble against his lips. When he pulls away, you giggle at the smear of gloss around his mouth. “You’re a husband now.”

He shrugs. “Knew I was gonna be when I met you,” he says baldly, and you blink. “Just feels like things are the way they’re meant to be, now.”

“What?” you titter, a little stunned, still smiling.

He shifts back to lean against the headboard, hands clasped around you. “I just mean that I knew you were it. Took one look at you and I felt it. Intuition, or something.”

“You’re just saying that to get into my pants,” you tease, but you can’t help the way your heart thumps a little harder when he shakes his head simply, blue-green eyes focused on you solemnly.

“I’m serious.”

And maybe it’s the heightened emotions that have been running rampant all day, but tears pool in your lash line so suddenly his face shifts into one of concern as you croak out his name pitifully.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he coos, and you shake your head, tilting forward to kiss him. A stray tear brushes past your lashes and he laughs goodnaturedly, thumb swiping it away.

“Silly, didn’t I do enough cryin’ for the both of us today?” he chides and it prompts a watery laugh out of you at the memory of your teary fiancé standing at the altar, gulping back the lump in his throat and failing miserable as you walked towards him.

“My turn now,” you murmur through giggles. “Who said you get a monopoly on being emotional?”

“You must’ve missed the notice in the paper.” You swat him half heartedly, and he shakes with laughter.

“Stupid,” you mutter and his fingers dig into your sides.

“Yeah, but you still married me,” he says breezily and you squeal when he brushes against your ribs. The smile on his face is radiant, smug and proud, brighter than the diamond gleaming on the finger he’d slid your ring on.

“I did,” you breathe out, laughter in your voice. “No getting rid of me now.”

His mouth quirks, gazing fondly down at you. “Good.”

There’s a bottle of something bubbly in a bucket of ice alongside two flutes on a tray nearby, and Jason deposits you on the bed to retrieve it, the loud POP it makes eliciting a stream of giggles from you. He joins you soon after, handing you your glass.

Propped against the headboard with his shoulder pressed against yours, you hold your glass up to him. “A toast?”

“Baby,” he huffs out a tired laugh, “I’ve lost count of how many toasts we’ve had tonight.”

“What’s one more?” you wheedle and he sighs in acquiescence. When you look over, his cheeks are flushed, and a quiet smile plays on his lips.

“Sure,” he murmurs. Tipping his chin for you to go on, he adds, “What’s your toast?”

You hum thoughtfully, before you start to laugh. “To Bruce’s face when Dick started dancing with my aunt.”

He throws his head back at that, barking out a laugh. “Sure, I’ll drink to that.”

Your glasses clink together, and you take a sip, the bubbles making you cough a little as they float up to your nose. You nudge him.

“Your turn.”

He thinks for a moment, eyes lighting up gleefully. “To Damian having to pass Dick a tissue when he started crying before we could make our speeches.”

Your brother-in-law’s face had had the both of you hiding behind your cards, and now makes you burst into laughter all over again, face flushing as you gasp for breath.

“Poor Dami,” you murmur in between titters, your drink sloshing precariously in your glass as you tremble.

“We all knew it was going to happen,” Jason tells you, wiping away a tear, lips twitching as he tries to keep a straight face. “He just came prepared.”

The volume of liquid in your glasses steadily decreases as the night grows darker. Slumped against your husband’s side, the two of you recount the reception and the various events that had occurred during its course. You propose toasts until your glasses are empty, at which point Jason takes them and places them on the floor beside your bed so that he can kiss you.

Tucked under his arm and exchanging sleepy kisses, you peer through your lashes at him. Haloed and smudged by your blurry vision, he appears before you with all the qualities of a dream.

“Mine now?” you ask against his lips, slowly being lowered into the mattress.

He hovers over your body, mouth swollen and eyes half-lidded.

“Always was.”

had this in my drafts for ages and finally got around to finishing it. i just think being so lovesick and giggly and newlywed and forever is something that can be so personal….oh to marry your best friend….

[preeningpisces]

Geto NSFW Headcanons

Im gonna try not to be biased because this is my main bitch right here 🖤

Lemme know if you want me to elaborate or write about any of these headcanons

(literally any ask about Geto will make me do somersaults—backflips, even)

18+ content below the cut, mdni, implied chubby f!reader

Pre-Incident

꩜ Geto is interesting because before he snaps and after he snaps feel like two different vibes in regards to sex

꩜ Doting, almost like a service-dom. He likes taking care of you, but he also prefers to have control. Though not so controlling that he can’t ever be submissive

꩜ Major smooth-talker, like Gojo said, he has a silver tongue. Likes a mixture of praise and degradation. The degradation is usually teasing, and doesn’t extend past the usual slut, whore, etc. range…usually

꩜ Sometimes it comes out corny tho lmfao pls roast him when it does

꩜ Good at making you feel sexy. The type that will kiss you all over, giving extra affection to areas you aren’t as fond of. It’s difficult at first, but with time you become more comfortable

꩜ Very sensual, and intimate. He has good self-control, & is very patient so he can draw things out & drive you crazy. Like he can spend all-too-long just toying with your mouth, denying you the kiss you so desperately want. Barely brushing your lips and teeth with his thumb, before pinching your tongue between fingers. Wowee

꩜ Refuses to kiss you after absorbing curses. Even though no one else can taste them, the thought of tasting like that is enough for for him to refuse; he doesn’t want you to go through it too. Also, tasting shit-vomit in your mouth doesn’t exactly get the schlong schlinging, yknow

꩜ I suspect absorbing curses gives him an immediate surge of negative emotions, so he usually needs space. Sometimes he just wants to hold you, or be held, in silence

꩜ Can be surprisingly playful in bed

꩜ Really likes fucking you from below. Smooshing your soft breasts and stomach against him, and feeling your weight on top of him. Holding you still so he can rail you while whispering sappy, dirty shit in your ear. I’m passing out someone help

꩜ I’ve been poisoned by the perv!geto fics on here, and can’t see him as not being a secret pervert. Just slightly. It takes a while for him to reveal that side to you, since he tries to appear refined and respectable

꩜ Definitely the type that likes music in the background; I see him as someone who cares about music a lot in general. You know he likes you if he’s sharing song recs

꩜ Lots of playlists, and even has a few sex playlists with different moods. Usually prefers things that are chill, but has a few harder-hitting songs—this is why he needs the playlists, lol. He doesn’t like when the vibe changes too much

꩜ One time you sneak Cbat onto his playlist & make him laugh so much he loses his boner. At that point did you really win? Hmm?

꩜ Tbh he’s got game & is aware of it. You gotta humble him occasionally or else he becomes insufferable

Post-Incident

꩜ This Geto is a lot more self-centered, aggressive, and sadistic in bed. I wouldn’t say he’s a tyrant tho

꩜ Will legit punish you when you disobey, no funishments here. Big into humiliation

꩜ My heart is telling me shibari, especially the kind that can be hidden beneath clothes. Particular about the color, and will pick ones that flatter your skin tone. Obsessed with the way the ropes pinch and dig into your soft body. He’ll bite and squeeze the parts that spill over the ropes

꩜ One punishment would be walking around secretly tied up, but the style where one of the ropes rubs against your pussy as you walk. It sounds nice at first, but that bitch is gonna chafe for sure

꩜ He’s more selfish than before, yes, but he still maintains a proclivity for doting—we all see how he spoils his daughters! It’s like, he gets his turn first, and when it’s your turn, it's your turn. Multiple orgasm king. He’ll do it until you’re sobbing tho, so pray for your pussy

꩜ Loves making you choke on his cock—gets kind of intense with the bjs. Mfer needs to chill (and buy you some throat lozenges)

꩜ Doggystyle is his favorite without a doubt, he just wants to pin your face to the bed and watch your ass bounce

꩜ A lot of the previous stuff is still applicable to some degree, but I think he has a lot less patience at this point, and is waaaay more into degradation & domination

꩜ He gets legitimately mean sometimes lmfao it’s like you gotta have 2 safewords: one for physical intensity level, and the other for bullying level 😭

꩜ Would he sleep with a non-sorcerer? Honestly, I can’t decide. If he did tho, he would be SO FUCKING MEAN I don’t even want to think about it !!!

꩜ Does he use monkey in bed unironically?? Chat pls advise

[orchidsangel]

MY BABY, MY BABY. YOU'RE MY BABY, SAY IT TO ME. (JT)

notes/cw ~ fluff, minor(ish) angst, fem!reader, talks of having a baby, idk i just had really bad dad!jason brain rot and i felt like i had to share it with my lovely angels, (2.3k)

The sound of laughter rings through your house like jingle bells during the holiday season, pitter patters of tiny feet tumbling against hardwood floors, and bigger ones chasing after them invade your ears. Squeals of laughter pour out through an open window as you pull bags of groceries out of the trunk of your car, the sound of running dying down when the trunk closes with a thump. "Is mommy home?" You hear a familiarly sweet voice say. "I think she is. Come on, let's see if we can beat her to the door."

Bags in hand, you walk up the pathway to the entrance of your house. The street of your suburban neighborhood, mostly empty on this chilly winter night, save for some residents walking their dogs before lights get turned off. The sound of a lock clicks before you're even halfway up the path, and soon after, you're met with Jason and your daughter standing in the doorway looking ridiculous, goofy grins on both of their faces. Red bows are hidden amongst his hair, some tied around short braids, some just hanging loosely on a few strands bunched together. Pink pajama pants peek out from under the red tutu she's wearing, and she dons pink ballet slippers on her feet as if she's about to perform the Nutcracker. 

He steps outside, meeting you at the top of the steps, hooking his fingers under the canvas straps of your reusable tote bags—an investment you'd made to offset some of the carbon emissions from his bike—and takes them into his hands. "New hair, huh?" you ask, eyeing the variety of red satin ribbons tied in knots littering the expanse of his head. "Yeah, you like?" He asks, turning towards you, lowering his head a bit so you can get a better look. You roll your eyes, but there's a smile playing on your lips at the image of Jason sitting down while your daughter's tiny hands play hairdresser with bows and barrettes.

You close the front door behind him as he makes his way toward the kitchen to unpack the groceries, turning your attention to the little girl in front of you sporting a toothy grin. "I thought ballet ended hours ago," you say, eyeing the layers of bright red tulle you had previously hidden to avoid the specks of glitter that shed every time she moved. "She had to practice her pirouettes." you hear Jason say from inside the fridge. "Yeah, mommy. I was practicing my pirouettes." She pouts her lips and cocks her head to the side, small hands fidgeting as she tries to use cuteness to get out of trouble. You cross your arms and squint your eyes at her, "Uh huh. And the hair?" You gesture to Jason, walking toward you. "What does that have to do with pirouettes?" 

He joins the two of you in the living room holding up a container of Gerber baby puffs, using them as a distraction to get both him and his little girl out of trouble. "What?" You ask, deadpan. "What d'ya mean what? We've got an infant I don't know about?" Your daughter gasps, eyes lighting up suddenly. "A sibling!" He laughs, turning towards you with a raised eyebrow. "No, you jerk. Him, not you, honey," you say, quickly correcting yourself. "They're for me." You snatch the container of blueberry-flavored rice puffs out of his hand, peeling off the lid and shoving a handful into your mouth. "God forbid women enjoy things." 

You pop a few more into your mouth before feeling a tug at the coat you still hadn't taken off. When you look down, you're met with your daughter, mouth open and waiting for you to share. She stares at you with wide eyes, using your inability to say no to her to her advantage. Sighing, you raise the container a bit and pause, "Only a few, and you have to get ready for bed after." she nods her head, mouth still open, and you tilt and pour out a substantial amount. She closes her mouth and displays her adorable little smile once again before running off to the bathroom to brush her teeth. "Hold on," Jason shouts down the hallway. "Say thank you to your mom!" You hear feet running again, and soon enough, feel the soft squeeze of your daughter giving you a hug; she presses her head into your lower abdomen as you bring your hand up to softly stroke her hair. "Thank you, Mommy." She says before moving on to Jason and giving an equally soft hug despite using all her might. "And thank you, Daddy, for letting me do your hair." She lets go and scurries off again, leaving a trail of red glitter in her wake for you to clean up.

She disappears into the bathroom, and you watch the hallway, now empty, as she gets ready for bed. You sigh, listening to the sound of water running while she independently does her end-of-the-night tasks, something you'd still helped her with not too long ago. Jason's arms creep around your waist, pulling you against him. His chin rests on your shoulder, and you feel something tickle your neck, but you're not sure if it's his hair or a ribbon. He notices the solemn look in your eyes, a stark contrast to the liveliness he'd seen in you just a few moments ago. "What's wrong? Is it the glitter? Because I can clean that up." He says. "No, not that." You nibble on your bottom lip, lost in thought, trying to organize your feelings. "Just… she's gotten so big." He hums in acknowledgment, his way of saying he shares the sentiment. "I just don't know where the time went." You mumble, overcome with an unexpected sadness. "She's only five." He says into your neck, bringing his hands up to your shoulders and gently pulling off the coat you'd forgotten to take off. "Yeah, but she was just a baby not that long ago. I swear."

The both of you watch her move between her bedroom and the bathroom, soft dark brown curls bouncing with every movement. At five, she was already more responsible than most children her age, having a pretty concrete idea of right and wrong well before most kids do. Responsible for her age, but still just a baby in the grand scheme of everything, and sometimes the two of you would wonder if Jason's occupation might end up inadvertently affecting her and warping her idea of justice, but those fears were almost always disproven as soon as they came and oftentimes you didn't worry more than a few minutes. "We're doing a good job." He says from behind you, rubbing your back in an attempt to take away some of the worry. Normally, it would go away with ease, today, not so much. "We're not bad parents." You say with conviction, but you both know you're just trying to convince yourself of it. "We're not. You know we're not." 

He turns you around to face him, away from the hallway, so you can't dwell any longer. His hands move to your upper arms, kneading gently as he searches for your eyes. "What's wrong? Talk to me." You struggle to make eye contact, unsure of your next words. "I think…I think I want another baby." You breathe out, looking down, unable to meet his gaze. Seconds pass, but they feel like minutes, and you barely breathe while you wait for his reaction. Not a single thing in the universe could've prepared you for the words that come out of his mouth. "Is that all? Is that what you were sulking about?" You look up at him, eyes wide, as he lets out a breathy laugh. Oh Jason, your Jason, taking your face in his hands and leaning down so he can look you in your eyes. "Don't scare me like that again, okay? Do you know how fucked up shit has to be for me to be the optimist out of the two of us?" It's your turn to laugh now, a weight having been lifted off your shoulders. "Language," you warn. "Aw, come on, she's way out of earshot." He bends down and presses his lips against yours; you close your eyes, leaning into him, hands finding his chest as you feel all of your worries melt away.

"Blegh." 

The sudden sound of a disgusted child, your disgusted child, pulls you away from Jason, and you wipe your mouth in embarrassment. It's just your daughter, but you still feel like a kid who's just been caught stealing candy and is about to get lectured into oblivion; Jason, however, handles it with ease. Taking on a playfully stern tone and pointing an accusatory finger at her, he asks, "Why are you up, little lady? Shouldn't you be in bed?" She mirrors his action, pointing a finger at him now. "You didn't tuck me in or read me my bedtime story." He puts his thumb and forefinger on his chin, seemingly thinking it over. "Hmmm, seems you've got me there." He shrugs before picking her up into his arms and giving her a kiss on the forehead. "You've gone soft," you say with a laugh, the embarrassment of being caught having passed. "What can I say? She's bossy. Gets it from her mama." You nudge his shoulder lightly as he turns in the direction of her room. "Alright, that's enough out of you." 

He leaves the door to her bedroom slightly cracked, and you can hear their whispers as they do their nightly routine of picking out a book to read, followed by her falling asleep in his arms. "What do you have in mind tonight?" He asks, laying her down gently on the bed adorned with princess sheets and stuffed animals he'd bought for her during trips around the world. "Can we finish Lord of the Rings?" She grabs her favorite stuffie, a gray bunny with droopy ears and button eyes, and holds it close to her chest as Jason climbs in beside her. "I don't think we can finish it, but we can fit a few pages in before it's time for you to go to sleep. That work for you?" He leans over the side of the bed and picks up a worn copy of Lord of the Rings that had been sitting on top of a stack of books he kept in her room solely for the purpose of bedtime. She nods her head at his question and snuggles further into him as he flips to the page they left off at.

You hear the sound of rustling and know the bedtime story has commenced, leaving you to clean up the mess of glitter and ribbons. Broom in hand, you start to sweep up the remnants of her "pirouette practice." Going up and down the hallway, sweeping back and forth. You catch a glimpse of the photos in the frames lining your wall before coming to a full stop and reminiscing about how far you guys have come. There were some pictures from when it was just the two of you, but most of those were kept digital, hidden amongst miscellaneous screenshots and disorganized photo albums. The majority of the framed photos came after she was born; something so special about being able to hold a photo of the three of you in your hands, to have it on display in your home proudly saying this is my family. Corny, maybe, but you'd never regretted starting the collection, especially since it had been Jason's idea. He'd been insistent that you keep a scrapbook to commemorate your ever-changing lives, but after realizing neither of you had the knack for cutting and gluing bits of paper onto pretty pages, you'd settled on the wall. Now, you look at them so often and always with fondness. Oh, how things had changed since that day, you'd met so long ago.

You don't know how long you'd been standing there, but you hear a door closing softly, and you turn to see Jason trying to make his way into the hallway with minimal noise. "Is she asleep?" You ask, barely above a whisper. "Out like a light." He says, joining you in front of the framed memories. A picture of her as a newborn, freshly discharged from the hospital, catches his eye, "she was really tiny, wasn't she?" He says, voice cracking a little as he remembers the overwhelming fear he'd experienced when you were in labor and how it all went away once he had held her in his arms. You hum in agreement as you both get lost in pictures of her from the past. Birthdays and holidays, family events and major milestones, there was a picture for everything.

There was one of her on his shoulders; she couldn't have been more than two at the time, her tiny fingers laced through locks of jet-black hair. You remember like it was yesterday; she had just watched Ratatouille and was trying to imitate Remy. He had played into it, and he couldn't get her off his shoulders for days after that. Another, taken from her first trip to the beach. You sit behind her, keeping her upright and holding her arms out, making one wave at Jason, who was behind the camera. You smile to yourself, the two of you standing outside of your daughter's bedroom, mostly content, remembering what it was like to have a baby in your arms. The memory of bringing her home floods his brain; how nervous he was yet so insanely happy he couldn't control the smile on his face. A shaky laugh falls from his lips as he pulls down a picture of the three of you still in the hospital, thumb pressed against the glass like he's trying to physically feel the moment. "Yeah…I could do it again." 

been working on this almost non stop for 9 hours, literally my longest fic yet (only by like 600 words, but still !!!), special thanks to @kiyozu (my beloved) for giving me this idea !! eek, hope you guys enjoyed it <33 (user orchidsangel is going to sleep now) (also tried following up dialogue with actions this time, gonna see how that goes bc if it’s too hard to follow along with i’ll just go back to he said she said)

[storyofcats]

[norman-fucking-reedus]

HE ATE MY HEART (I LOVE THAT GIRL)

gif by @corvidcrossbow

IM SO FUCKING EXCITED TO FINALLY HAVE SOMETHING TO POST ON HERE AND ALSO TO POST SOMETHING TO THIS SONG

Vamp!Daryl has rotted not only my brain but the community. I am not sorry at all for the plague I'm spreading and I hope that it only gets worse.

So I've been doing some research on it, and I really like the idea of mixing the Blade universe w TWD, I did some more research on the different types of vampires (its kind of a lot so if you want you can go read abt them here!) To basically summarize, there's people, daywalkers (half vamp-people), walkers, full vampires, and then Revenants (half-walker half vampire, basically just another way to die)

This also makes it easier for whenever Scud becomes my next vampy victim

AUUUGH I NEED MY HOT SEXY NEEDY VAMPIRE MAN WHO JUST WANTS TO DRINK ALL MY BLOOD SOMEONE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FUCKING PLEASE

also I am working on reqs yes I am, I have one scud fic that is dirty and nasty and should be getting posted soon. also I may not be on tumblr as much as I used to be because GUYS I am now employed yes that's right I got off my computer, went outside, interacted with people, and got a job #gangshit

It had been over a week since Daryl had eaten, and over two since he had left to go out on the community's monthly supply run.

As he stumbled through the opening gates, he felt like he had been through a war. His body was wracked with exhaustion, weakness, and hunger. The air was thick with the strong scent of blood, and he couldn't keep himself from groaning painfully when he was bombarded by Carol and Rick asking where he had been, what had taken so long, and if he was alright.

“No! M’not alright dammit” He barked at them in frustration after being asked for the third time if he was alright, his voice laced with irritation and discomfort. Carol couldn't help but notice his pale and clammy appearance.

Her forehead creased into a frown as she tightly pursed her lips, giving Daryl a scolding look that made him uneasy. With a tone of concern, she asked, "I'm worried. When was the last you fed?"

The man's face twisted in discomfort as Rick and Carol stood in his space. He scoffed and muttered, "Not recently, m'fuckin' starvin'" The longer he stayed, the more his head spun and his vision blurred, causing the corners of his eyes to fade into a deep red color. His stomach churned uncomfortably, and he could feel his teeth starting to ache.

Rick observed Daryl's malnourished skin, staring at how he was almost transparent. His eyes were screwed shut as the sun harshly burned his sensitive orbs, and he was gripping the strap of his crossbow so hard that his fingers were starting to turn red.

"You should go see Y/n," Rick said, eyes fixed on his friend. "She should be back home and she's been asking about you. I think she misses you." Daryl's body tensed at the sound of your name, and a sudden chill ran down his spine, causing goosebumps to rise on his arms. He tried to hide his reaction, but Rick's sharp eyes didn't miss a thing.

Daryl's head drooped weakly as he could only manage a feeble nod. Rick and Carol had stepped off to the side for him, offering their silent support. Carol placed her hand gently on his shoulder, her grey hair falling across her face as she did so. Rick, with his stern expression, gave Daryl a look that he knew meant there was no room for argument.

His senses were already heightened to an extreme level, almost at an overload as the sun was abnormally bright, blazing down on him with a blinding intensity, making it difficult for him to even keep his eyes open. He could feel the heat searing his skin, causing beads of sweat to form on his forehead and trickle down his face. He noticed the way that his vest rubbed uncomfortably against him, the fabric clinging to his skin and making him feel sticky and irritable. His already aching teeth began to grind down against each other, and he could feel his razor-sharp fangs digging into the tender skin of his bottom lip, further fueling his pure discomfort.

Each step he took in the direction of your house was tiring and heavy, his dirty, muddy boots slapping against the ground as he dragged himself through the streets, promptly ignoring any strangle or judgy looks that were thrown his way. He didn't have the time, let alone the strength to even bother paying them any mind. His stomach churned as his overwhelmed nose couldn't help but pick up the sickeningly sweet smell of blood.

It forced him to quicken his pace, trying to get just as far away from the public eye as he possible could. He didn't want to be looked at, didn't want to be stared at. He just wanted to get inside as soon as fucking possible and just tear off all his goddamn clothes. A ping of hope struck through him when he could see your familiar house only a short distance down the road, having to hold himself back from flat-out sprinting the rest of the way there.

Though it was only about a thirty-second walk, it had been the longest in his whole entire life, and walking up the small steps of your porch was like something out of a nightmare. He could disgustingly feel the material change in flooring when he stepped off the pavement and onto the creaky wood, the sound grating against his now way too-sensitive ears. Dear god, would someone fucking help him already?

Of course, as if on cue, the red front door to your house swung open, but instead of being met with a friendly face, he was met with the barrel of your gun.

"Daryl?" You questioned as you lowered the weapon slightly, a smile stretching across your lips once you had confirmed who was standing and dicking around on your porch. "Daryl!" You fully dropped your defensive position, stuffing the weapon in the band of your pants as you prepared to throw yourself at the man, halting when you finally took in his ruined appearance.

His breathing was labored, and it was hard to keep himself upright on his own two legs, forcing him to lean against the wall by the door. "Hey doll"

You scoffed at him in disbelief, "Don't you dare even "hey doll" me, mister! What the hell happened to you? Get in here right now" Grabbing the front of his vest and pulling his heavy body inside, Daryl groaning as each movement caused pain to his body, slumping against the door when you slammed it shut.

He couldn't be happier when he felt you prying the buttons of his stupidly itchy vest off, him shrugging it off as well as his crossbow, clattering down on the floor and probably chipping the metal further.

"Jesus Daryl, you look fucking terrible. Did you feed on anything at all out there?" You purse your lips as you analyze and checked his unnaturally pale chest, letting out a surprised hiss at the burn lingering on your fingers tips from where you had brushed them against the skin of his shoulder

Daryl groaned as you directed him to sit on the couch, the short steps from the front door already leaving him utterly winded, almost dripping in sweat as he wheezed each breath of air.

“‘Wasn’t much… ‘wasn’t much out there” He spoke breathlessly, head spinning and his stomach loudly churning when you stood in front of him.

When you extended a hand out to cup his face, he tightly gripped your wrist with a shaky hand. “Don’. Please don’” He didn’t want to feed from you, not like this, not in a state where he couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t absolutely drain you.

“Daryl” You whispered softly, frowning slightly as you started taking your shirt off, and he wanted to scream at your stubbornness.

You straddled his lap and gently brushed the hair sticking to his forehead off, his blue eyes starting to tint red as the smell of your blood was strong, right in his face. “I don’ wanna”

“I know you don’t sweetheart, but you’ll die. What am I gonna do if you die?” You cupped his face, forcing his gaze onto yours. He whimpered slightly at your touch, his whole body sensitive and reactive.

Daryl shivered when you combed fingers through his hair, hands curling around your hips when you directed his head to your neck. “I trust you, more than I even trust myself” You whispered soothingly into his ear, and he almost wanted to cry.

He could smell the blood coursing through you like it was a burning candle, and his mouth was uncontrollably watering. His fangs were sharp and heavy, aching with the need to sink into your skin, which is exactly what he did, groaning against you at the first drops of blood, not wasting against another second before he was greedily taking mouthfuls.

It was so good, so warm and fresh, sweet and bitter. Daryl had drank lots of blood before, and yours was easily his favorite. He craved it during his time out there, not just because there was a serious lack in wild animals, but because it was addictive.

He squeezed your hips, soft and pillowy in his buzzing palms as he could feel himself starting to get hard in his pants, the more blood he swallowed the more drunk he got.

It made you feel good to watch his natural tan color fade back, his scarred back no longer a ghastly pale. You ran your fingers through his hair, occasionally curling your fingers and gripping the dark locks to grind down against his now-straining cock.

Daryl made soft, small sounds as he fed, each roll of your hips making each gulp of your blood taste so much better. His senses were at an all-time high, overwhelmed and at an absolute edge. He couldn’t help the way his hands pressed you down on his cock, hips desperately jerking against you as he could feel himself getting closer and closer, his head spinning in a blood lust haze.

He was so close, so very fucking close. His sharp claws had made themselves known, and you jolted when they painfully curled into your flesh, hips sputtering and slightly faltering in their movements. Daryl had no problem picking up the slack, almost fucking you right through his pants from how hard he was rutting up into you.

It was just all so much, his whole body on fire with pure arousal as he sighed around a final mouthful of crimson, trembling from his core as his orgasm washed over him, pressing your clothed cunt against him as hard as he could, making his already fuzzy mind draw a complete blank, a loud groan tearing from his throat that caused his fangs to slip out from where he had punctured the skin and drop his head against your shoulder, whimpering softly as he held you down.

You scratched his scalp comfortingly, feeling a little woozy from the amount of blood he had taken. He hummed against you as he started to come down from not only the high of his orgasm but bubbly buzz from his feast.

“Feel better?” You asked in a quiet, sleepy voice when Daryl’s tongue cleaned the drops of blood that had leaked from the small wounds, coating the area in his saliva so that it could heal.

He nodded as peppered you in appreciative and apologetic kisses, pulling you flush against his bare chest by wrapping his arms around your back, claws retracted and replaced with blunt nails. “M’sorry fer hurtin’, ya”

“Instead, you should be sorry for not feeding yourself, mister” You said as you shook your head, pinching his side as you got a bit upset again. “You know it scares me shitless when you do that”

“I know, I know. M’sorry for tha’ too” Daryl grumbled, feeling fatigued as well now that his tummy was full and satiated. His body was still weak and needed rest, now yours did as well considering he had taken a lot more than usual. “I’ll make it up to ya’” He said as he pushed himself up off the couch, grunting as it was a lot harder with tired muscles and one hand keeping his woman wrapped around him, adding a second once he was finally standing.

You giggled at that, arms hooked around his neck. “And just how will you do that?”

“Got a real good idea” Daryl smirked, hoisting you up as he ascended up the stairs to your shared bedroom, hungry for something else that was much better than blood.

I started writing this a few days ago I think this is the quickest I've written something

Vamp!Daryl is an absolute need. I'm loving every single post I see of him and I love watching the disease spread faster than fucking covid I jump for joy when I see someone I don't even know talking abt him is this what fame feels like is this what its like to be famous am I fucking famous

yes you do want more of this so go read more

Bloodthirsty @dixons-sunshine

Bite me @mydearestdaryl

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐋&𝐃𝐒 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 (𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕)

╰┈➤ ❝ oneshot series | caleb x reader | rafayel x reader | xavier x reader | zayne x reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

general tags : pwp (with plot), afab!reader, softdom!boys, reader deals with negative thoughts and insecurities, hints of anxiety and depression, fluff, mild angst, essentially just gentle comfort smut (but sex is not used as a coping mechanism)

premise : it happened, sometimes. though you could look at life through rose-colored glasses all you wanted, there were still reminders all around you that things won't always go by so perfectly. on some days, the struggle would become harder and harder to ignore... until it's overwhelming. exhausting. fortunately, on days like that, they will always remind you that you aren't alone—and maybe, then, things don't have to be so bad anymore.

alternatively—on your darker days, the love & deepspace boys soothe you through your anxieties.

*** some works are still in progress. wip tags subject to change. ***

Ღ ᴄᴀʟᴇʙ

tags : reader has social anxiety, reader has general insecurities, unwarranted catcalling, caleb gets pretty protective in this, cuddling, kissing, heavy petting, oral (f receiving), praise and reassurance, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, soft and slow sex, but it gets pretty rough towards the end, use of pet names "pipsqueak" "baby" "pretty"

(coming soon)

Ღ ʀᴀꜰᴀʏᴇʟ

tags : hints of switch!rafayel, reader is hesitant with intimacy, descriptions of self-esteem issues and general insecurities, mentions/implications of toxic relationships, implications of dubcon (not with rafayel), praise and reassurance, kissing and making out, heavy petting, first time sex (with each other) (no virginity loss), masturbation (f), oral (m. receiving), vaginal sex, cowgirl and missionary positions, unprotected sex, creampie, soft sex, use of pet names "cutie" "princess" "baby", references to card "fiery undercurrents"

Ღ xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ

tags : reader has negative thoughts, implications of depression (not explicitly stated/mentioned), implication of self-harm (scars) (not detailed), slight arguing (ish), cuddling, praise and reassurance, kissing and making out, nipple play, slight clit play, fingering, soft and lazy foreplay, use of pet names "angel" "princess"

Ღ ᴢᴀʏɴᴇ

tags : husband!zayne x wife!reader, reader has body insecurities and negative thoughts, kissing, heavy petting, body worship, praise and reassurance, nipple play, clit play, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, soft sex, slight dirty talk, slight cursing, use of pet names "sweetheart" "snowflake"

『 whenever there's a chance, i'll tell you that you're amazing as you are; 'cause when you give me a glance, i'm sure that i see the universe in your eyes. 』

⁺₊ / an : fun facts with roxie time !! i'm currently getting my masters degree in psychology and have had experiences with anxiety and depression in previous years, so this series is a bit special to me! and i hope it can offer a bit of comfort to some of you, too <3 BUT just to clarify! again, sex is not used as a coping mechanism here; any sexual intimacy between reader and the boys in this series is communicated, consensual, and done in a safe environment 🙌 please please practice good communication and coping methods !! 🤍

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[oceans-beloved]

Mushroom Oasis March (Day 7 : Sleeping)

Ever since I played mushroom oasis, I've been coming back to the meadow scene for comfort again and again, and this event gave me the motivation to finally make an ambience/ sleeping aid!

Hope you all like it!!!

I made two versions!!

If anyone wants the version without the vocals it's below the cut!!

[candycandy00]

Best Summer Ever - A Choso x Reader Fanfic

Just you and Choso at the beach! Written as a response to the weekly challenge on my x reader lovers community. Very suggestive but no smut!

You look at Choso with a frown on your face. “Did you put on sunscreen?” you ask him. 

He’s sitting under an umbrella, wearing shorts he obviously borrowed from his brother. His skin is so pale, it looks like it could simply burst into flames under the hot sun. 

“No, but I should be fine if I stay under here, right?”

You sigh. “How can you enjoy the beach if you stay cooped up under an umbrella?” you ask, reaching into your beach bag to pull out your bottle of sunscreen.

Choso is a good friend, but you’ve wanted to be more for weeks now. You just don’t know how to broach the subject. You thought inviting him to the beach and wearing your sexiest bikini might help, but so far he’s not taking the hint. Time for more direct tactics.

“Here, let me rub some sunscreen on you. You’re so pale, you probably burn easily.”

“Oh, thanks,” he says, not even a blush at the thought of you rubbing him down. Is he that naive? Or does he just not see you that way? 

You sit down beside him and squeeze out some sunscreen into your palm. You rub both hands together, then begin rubbing it into his shoulders. Your hands slide down, massaging the sunscreen into his chest. You didn’t realize how firm and defined his muscles were until now. It makes you fall for him even harder, and your face heats up from more than just the sun. 

Reaching his abdomen, your hands get a little shaky. You’ve never touched him so much before. You glance up at his face as your hands dip below his navel, and you feel the faint soft fuzz of a happy trail. 

He doesn’t look embarrassed at all, just comfortable as he watches you work. 

“Okay, turn around and I’ll do your back,” you tell him, and he complies. 

This is a little less stressful for your heart, but it still causes butterflies in your stomach to feel his taut body beneath your fingers. 

When you finally finish, you snap the lid on the sunscreen closed and hand it to him. “You can do your face and legs,” you say, not wanting to give yourself a heart attack by rubbing down his toned thighs. 

He looks at you. “Did you already put some on yourself?”

Your face freezes. You did put some on about an hour ago, but you suppose you could use another application. Is he offering?

“Uh, I could use some more.”

“I can put it on for you,” he says. 

Your heart pounds as you nod. “Okay.”

Turning your back to him, you scoot closer and wait to feel his touch. You hear the sunscreen being squeezed out, and draw in a sharp breath when you feel his hands on your shoulders. He rubs the ointment in, using firm but gentle motions. Then he stops suddenly. 

“This strap is in the way. Can I untie it?”

Your bikini strap?! You flush with embarrassment as you say, “Go ahead.”

His fingers move to the string tied around your back to hold your bikini top in place. He unties it nimbly and then begins rubbing in the sunscreen again. He covers your whole back, right down to where your bikini bottom starts. 

“Okay, turn around,” he says. 

When you turn to face him, holding your top in place with your hands, you’re shocked to see his pale face tinted pink. Is he blushing? From touching you? 

He looks you up and down as he holds the bottle in his hand. “Um… won’t your top… be in the way?”

Wait, does he think he’s supposed to rub it into your chest like you did for him? The thought has you blushing furiously, almost as much as him. But it also sounds like a really great idea. “We can’t do that here, where people can see,” you tell him. “It would be too embarrassing.”

He points to a row of small fabric tents that have been erected on the beach to allow people to change with some privacy. His face is bright red as he says, “We could go in one of those.”

You smile as you stand up and hold out your hand to him. “I’d like that,” you say, walking with him to the tents, kicking off your best summer ever. 

[sweetestofchaos]

Chell 💜 I hope I’m not too late 👀 could I get Jungkook x reader with #13. linking hands together during sex from prompt list 2

I miss him so much 😭

Like I would ever say no to you 😆 but, you aren't late at all. I don't know when I'll call these drabble requests off...I know they won't stay open too long 'cause no one has really sent anything in. You are the fourth (probably the last) person to request something.

You know I love me some JK...so let's go!

being close to you is still not close enough

p. jungkook x reader

r. 18+

wc. 481

w. mentions of unprotected sex, biting, creampie, kissing

Your skin on his, your breath mixed with his, it is hard to tell where one body begins and the other ends. Still, Jungkook wants more. Needs more. It isn’t enough to be buried deep in your soft warmth. It isn’t enough to sink his teeth into your skin. It isn’t enough to fill you with his seed. He loves you and you love him. You tell him so every day at all times, no matter what. Even when the two of you are fighting (not often), you fill each other with love.

As your legs lock Jungkook in place, as he grinds his pelvis against yours and as he pants in your ear, he grunts his love. His hands roam your body, trailing a hot path along your skin with goosebumps and kisses. He loves you, day in and day out. Seven days a week until the end of time, he loves you and only you. Your nails mark his skin, leaving red lines along his back and crescent moons on his arms. He doesn’t care, he’s okay with his hyungs teasing him if it means he can wear your marks proudly.

His skin is damp, slick with sweat, just as yours. You reach for the blankets, twisting the fabric in your hands until your knuckles lock, the skin taut over the bones. Jungkook’s hands find yours, he relaxes your grip and slides his fingers between the empty space. Puzzle pieces fitting into place, two halves of one whole. As his fingers close around your hand, your head grows warm and fuzzy. You feel like you’re floating and the weight of Jungkook’s hands in yours weighs you down, anchoring you to the world.

He moans your name, whispers his love as he clings to you, never letting go. Tight, so very tightly you hold onto his hands. You think there will be marks that might bruise but that is for future you to worry about. Jungkook now has no worries, he doesn’t mind the tightness. It’s reassuring, the way you give yourself to him, trusting him with the most inner parts of you. The love is madding and at times Jungkook wonders how he is still here with you. The love you share is unconditional, fierce, and inviting. It wraps around his very being and floods his lungs at the most random of times.

Jungkook’s hips start to weaken and you mewl, squeezing his hands and his length as he pushes you over the edge. It triggers his own release a few moments later and tears stream down your face. It is overwhelming, the feeling of this love. It settles deep in your chest and as Jungkook kisses your face all over, licking away your tears, you can’t help but whisper those words to him once more.

“I love you, Jungkook. I love you. I love you. I love you.”