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mvth3r · 2 months

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daryl doesn’t think he’s anything special. he never has. but to you? he’s everything.

5 times daryl feels your affection down to his core and the many 1 time he unconsciously returns the favor.

cw: 18+ MDNI, p-in-v, mention of injury, swearing, mostly fluff, 4283 words

a/n: this draft got the most votes in the poll, which was surprising tbh! next up medieval au, princess reader, forbidden romance?? hmmmm

one.

daryl hears you coming before he sees you. he knows it’s on purpose, so you don’t startle him (“and get an arrow in the tit or something, i don’t know!” you had explained, laughing). he’s long since taught you how to be quiet when walking over leaves and branches.

his eyes drifted in the direction of the noise, watching you melt out of the trees, water bottle in one hand and knife in the other. you had a bad habit of speeding through or ignoring your own duties in favor of tracking him out into the woods while he was hunting. the teasing looks from rick and carol when they saw the gates open in the evening, revealing the two of you instead of just him, were enough to have him blushing up to his ears, but he couldn’t find it in him to stop you. if anything, daryl found himself lingering closer to the prison when he was first setting out for the day and making his tracks a little easier for you to follow as he went on. he liked to think of it as a teaching moment, encouraging you to follow his lessons, but he knew what it really was.

he liked having you here with him, away from prying eyes and ears. daryl wasn’t big on pda, he’d never been, and you knew that, but you could be as affectionate as you wanted out here.

the smile that split you face when you saw daryl was blinding, creasing your eyes and cheeks, “hey, handsome.”

daryl felt his heart start to pound immediately in his chest and warmth radiate through his belly and down his limbs. he had the distant, bizarre thought that any walker for a few miles would probably be able to smell his blood as it rose rapidly to his face, coloring his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

he scoffed quietly to keep the words he really wanted to say from spilling unbidden from his throat as you caught up to him, instead deadpanning, “handsome? really?”

you hummed, raising a hand to card through his long bangs, eyes tender when they met his, “mhm, very handsome. don’t i tell you every day?”

you leaned up to press a sweet kiss to his lips, no longer than a moment. you hand drifted from his hair down to cup his jaw as you did, and daryl found himself leaning into your palm, his own hand coming up to grip your wrist loosely.

you pulled away with a smaller, more intimate smile, one that daryl had only ever seen directed at him. and, if you had felt the pounding of his heart through his shirt or seen the intensity of his flush, you didn’t say a word.

two.

daryl was distracted.

this council meeting was dragging on much longer than intended. what was initially supposed to be a quick conversation about planning a run to get supplies for judith and a few of the other kids had turned into a heated debate about possibly opening up the council to a few of the people from woodbury. he could understand why. there was still a stark divide between their group and the new people, but daryl had been content to sit back and let the situation mend itself, so long as it didn't escalate.

the discussion was split down the middle. or.. maybe there were more in favor of maintaining the current council? daryl couldn’t tell because he couldn’t focus and he couldn’t focus because every time he tried to lock in on the conversation, he could feel your fingers brush over his knuckles.

earlier, when the meeting started, you had sat yourself right next to daryl, reached under the table, and grabbed his hand where it was resting on his knee. no fanfare, no lovesick gazes, just your fingers intertwined with his calloused ones like they belonged there. which, he mused to himself, maybe they do.

and so there your hand had remained as the meeting went on. every so often, you would brush your fingers lightly over his knuckles, or give his fingers a squeeze if you happened to catch his eyes… which would lead to you chuckling quietly to yourself when his neutral expression would warm over with a blush.

the meeting had been going on for at least an hour. god.

“daryl, what do you think?”

glenn’s voice cut through daryl’s thoughts like a knife. he jerked a little, almost dislodging your hand when he looked across the table, meeting the expectant stares of the council.

“uhh,” he grunted eloquently, “‘bout bringin’ some of them folks on?”

hershel nodded expectantly, his voice thoughtful, “don’t you think we could afford their input? after all, this is their home now just as much as it is ours.”

your fingers brushed again over his knuckles and daryl willed himself not to lose focus. not to allow his mind to run on with thoughts about the softness of your fingers and how much he liked the feeling of your palm against his. how comfortable-

no.

daryl blinked and cleared his throat, “we don’ even have rick on the council right now, i’on think it’s a good idea.”

glenn nodded along with maggie and, reluctantly a moment later, hershel did too, though his mouth had settled into a thin frown.

daryl felt your hand squeeze his twice, taking it as a nonverbal ‘good job!’, and paused only a moment before squeezing back his own nonverbal ‘thank you’. he saw a small smile flit across your face out the corner of his eye.

before the debate could start up again, you were leaning forward and speaking up, saying, “alright, let’s table this for next time then. the run is already planned for the baby stuff, so—?”

hershel’s eyes swept across the table and he nodded, “meeting adjourned, i suppose.”

three.

the woods were clear as daryl looked out over the gate. he could see everything from the watchtower, as was intended, but for once the calm darkness was not a comfort.

instead, every moment that passed heightened the panic that had been swirling in his gut since earlier that evening.

it had been roughly fourteen hours since you had left on a run with glenn and maggie. there was a small gas station a little ways out that looked to be mostly untouched, and you had been pulled to fill in daryl’s usual slot since he was already slated to go hunting.

he was regretting it now, though, as he continued to watch the road leading up to the gate for any sign of maggie’s headlights.

while the general rule of thumb was to be back to the prison before dark, everyone knew that sometimes shit happens, whether it be walkers appearing at the worst possible time, or not being able to secure the haul. hell, shit happened more often than it didn't, as far as daryl was concerned.

maybe the haul had been much larger than the three of you had planned for, and you had to hide some of it away for a return trip.

maybe y'all had come across a herd large enough to block the car's path and had to find a way around it to get home without leading them back behind you.

maybe the gas station had been a bust all together and you’d gone further out in hopes of not returning empty handed.

the thoughts swimming through his mind sent daryl pacing across the small area of the watchtower. back and forth he went, eyes flashing over to the gate of the prison every few seconds.

“you’re gonna wear out your shoes like that.”

oh right. daryl isn’t even on watch, not officially at least. he’d joined carol a little after the sun went down and been up here ever since.

carol continues on despite his brooding silence, “they’re okay. something probably held them up, it happens.”

daryl turned to face carol, scrubbing a hand down his face. he opening his mouth to respond, but before he could, the sound of wheels crunching across gravel made him whip back around.

he barely registered that it was maggie’s car before he was yanking the floor hatch open and climbing down. rick, who’d been poking around the farm despite the late hour, unwilling to admit his own anxiety, was already pulling the gate open to let the car in.

daryl stopped further up the hill to meet you, and, as soon as you popped the lock on your door, he was tugging it open with one hand and reaching for you with the other.

you went willingly, a sheepish smile on your face as you let him turn you this way and that, checking for any injuries or bites, neither of which you had.

“sorry i’m late, handsome,” you whispered, “i didn’t mean to worry you.”

daryl grunted in response, resisting the urge to press himself against you and feel your heart beat against his skin. he understood that you were capable, and that you had lasted just as long in the apocalypse as he had, but he can't help but wonder if he'll ever get used to this, or if he'll spend any moment you aren't within his reach on the edge of a panic attack.

by then, rick had made his way up the hill to the car and was helping unload their findings from the boot. all things considered, the three of you had brought back a pretty decent amount of stuff.

“everyone alright?” rick questioned, eyes skirting over the contents of the trunk to scan the three of you instead. "what held y'all up?"

maggie shook her head with a smile, “nothing like that. we found a good bit at that gas station, but there was a map of a small trailer park a little ways away, and we thought it was better to go for it while we were right down the road.”

“and we had the space anyway. didn’t make sense to waste a second trip, but it took a little longer to search than we thought,” you added. you had turned to face the group and, under the cover of the dark, you leaned back just slightly into daryl’s side.

carol, who had followed daryl down from the watchtower, hummed, and rick nodded thoughtfully. they both followed behind maggie and glenn, grabbing as much as they could carry from the car and heading up to deposit it for sorting tomorrow.

now alone, daryl took a moment to breathe you in, but he was moving soon as well, heading for the trunk to grab what was left.

he didn’t notice you coming up next to him until he felt your fingers slipping into his pocket.

“found something for you,” you said quietly, standing at his side.

daryl patted his pocket, feeling the dented box of what he assumed to be cigarettes and looked over at you, brows furrowed in confusion.

“i noticed you ran out the other day,” you answered his unasked question, a small smile lifting your cheeks, “combed through every trailer looking for ‘em.”

with that, you turned away from him and back to the trunk.

daryl stood speechless, his heart building up to that rapid thrum he only seemed to feel in your presence.

you had brought something back for him. had spent the daylight rummaging through dirty trailers on the off chance that you’d find a pack of cigarettes to replace his empty one that he himself hadn't even bothered to go searching to replace.

he wanted to think he didn’t understand why you would do something like this, why you would care, but he did. he’d done the same for you, time and time again on the road, if only to see you smile. he understood exactly why.

“‘preciate it,” he grunted, thankful that the darkness surrounding you kept his blush from being too obvious.

you hummed in acknowledgment, and daryl could your small smile growing out the corner of his eye.

four.

having sex in the prison was no easy feat, mostly due to the lack of privacy. a sheet could only provide so much, and even then it did nothing for the noise echoing constantly off the concrete walls.

as far as most were concerned, maggie and glenn had found the best spot early on, making the most unused watchtower their designated private retreat, but you and daryl knew otherwise.

deep in the tombs, which were no longer a threat as they had long since been cleared and sealed, there were a few tucked away offices that had sat empty even after the woodbury residents had been moved in. noise didn’t escape the tombs, and no one ever just wandered in, especially not in the middle of the night, so despite the cell that you and daryl shared, you both much preferred spending your more intimate moments here.

well, daryl did. you weren’t picky, and could be quiet when you really tried, but it made daryl more comfortable.

he’d like to think it was just because he was wary of any listening ears, especially with all the children roaming around, but he knew the truth of his resolve.

daryl had never been a selfish man, and certainly not after the world fell. everything he had, everything he was, he would give to his family in a heartbeat.

but this.. this was just for him.

your body arched beautifully under his, legs falling open to accommodate his weight settling against you. daryl’s hand left your heat, fingers dripping with wetness, to squeeze your hips, using them to guide you as your moved against him.

you were already bare, both of you having stripped each other of your clothes between heated kisses while you stumbled in the office. you hadn’t even made it to the double-stacked cot in the corner, daryl instead pushing you firmly down on the dusty desk and leaning in to mouth at your neck.

you moaned under him now, a breathy sigh of his name, and the sound sent a shiver down daryl’s spine.

“needy girl,” he grunted teasingly, reaching down to grasp his hardness. he dragged the head of his cock up your slit, collecting your wetness and smearing it over your clit.

your head knocked back against the desk and a loud groan burst out of your throat. your knees tried to close around daryl’s waist as if to keep him away, but you arms came up to wrap around him, pulling him closer to your body, and he leaned into you willingly.

your voice trembled when you spoke into his ear, want dripping from every syllable, “please, baby. need you inside me so bad.”

and god, daryl wanted to make you beg for it. he wanted to wait until he could see the desperation in your eyes and then wait some more, but he couldn’t. not when you looked so pretty spread out beneath him and your hands were petting over his shoulders and neck just how he liked. he almost thought you were doing it on purpose, but he knew better. this was just you.

you couldn’t stay off him when he was in you, always tugging at his hair or rubbing his chest, hands scrabbling for any skin you could reach. it used to send him reeling, flustered and blushing bright, but now he looked forward to it. he could feel the want in your touches like physical imprints of your affection.

daryl pushed into your slowly, groaning deep in his chest. your slick walls felt heavenly around him, but daryl was more focused on you right now.

soft whimpers fell from your lips as your hands drifted over his sweat slicked skin. daryl’s thrusts were slow but purposeful, and he ignored your legs squeezing around his waist, trying to urge him to speed up.

“relax, peach,” he soothed, hands drifting up and down your sides in pace with his thrusts, “i’ma take care of you.”

“kiss, please,” you whispered, voice floating past daryl’s ear. he would have missed it if you weren’t pressed together like this.

daryl would not describe himself as a selfish man. he might have had his moments in the past, but now, with the dead walking and a prison full of survivors to protect, it was virtually out of the question.

but as he leaned down to press his lips to yours, feeling your hands finally make their way up into his long strands, daryl thought that he might be a possessive man.

he’d sooner spread you out deep in the woods than have you where anyone could see you like this or hear the noises you make.

no, daryl thought, tongue sliding in your mouth to tangle with yours, this would always be just for him.

five.

daryl came into awareness slowly and then all at once. he startled, trying to sit up, but a searing pain made itself known in his abdomen. the pain clouded his senses, blooming out across his torso and down his limbs. he flops uselessly, feeling like the wind has been knocked out of him.

hearing bits of voices above him, daryl wills himself to focus. he’s hurt, obviously, and it’s pretty fucking bad, but he’ll have to suck it up and figure out a way home if he’s in bad company.

the voices start to filter in. the volume makes his temples throb in rhythm with his abdomen and his heart as the situation starts to force adrenaline through his body.

“—harder! put more pressure on it!”

daryl relaxes just a bit. that’s rick. frantic, angry, but rick all the same.

“what the fuck do you think i’m doing?!” the other voice, higher, snarls in response, “just drive the damn truck!”

and daryl feels his body try to relax all together. he would recognize your voice in his sleep, and this milky haze of pain is no different. he can feel your hands pressing a wad of something soft into his abdomen.

he can hear your panicked breaths and feel the way your fingers flex continuously against his skin. whatever’s wrong with him must be bad, and it definitely hurts like hell, but daryl takes comfort in the weight of your body against his. you won’t let anything happen to him if you can help it, you’d sworn that fiercely, and if you can’t help it then he doesn’t think anyone could have.

daryl can just barely make out the creaking of the gate being pulled open over the sound of rick laying on the horn.

as they pull in, the gravel of the path rocks the truck and daryl feels the ache in his abdomen bloom again, distracting him from his thoughts, but here, knowing he’s safe and back with his family, he allows himself to drift away.

—

this time, when daryl comes into awareness, the first thing he feels is fingers carding through his hair, tugging gently as if to untangle a couple of knots and snarls.

without even opening his eyes he knows it’s you. he can feel the heat of your body settled next to him and smell the soap you like to bathe with. daryl leans towards you, chasing the warmth of your hand against his skin.

the bandages on his stomach are wrapped tight, but it’s more annoying than anything and the pain has finally, thankfully, subsided to a dull ache. daryl stretches on the cot, trying to loosen him limbs from their inactivity, but what he focuses on is your fingers immediately pulling away.

“daryl?” your voice prods quietly, “you awake?”

he opens his eyes slowly, squinting at the sunlight that streams through the bars of the cell. the privacy sheet isn’t down, actually there’s no sheet at all, daryl notes as he looks out. he must be in one of the cells near hershel’s.

“‘m up,” he grumbles, a cough working its way out of his throat. before he can attempt to clear the dryness, you’re standing to grab a bottle of water off some boxes stacked nearby and pressing it into his hand.

your fingers linger against his wrist as you pull away, but you’re resuming your previous position anyway, in a chair brought right up to his bedside.

daryl hasn’t sat up yet, staring instead at you as one of your hands return to his hair and the other rubs down his arm.

a few quiet moments pass before you speak again, head bowed and voice a little choked, “we almost lost you. i almost lost you.”

“didn’t though,” daryl croaks. he feels your grip tighten on his arm and just knows. knows that you’ve been sitting right here every moment that you could since he went down. knows that you probably haven’t had your hands off him. knows you’ve spent the time, however long it’s been, agonizing over what went wrong and how to keep it from happening ever again. he knows.

“i didn’t,” you agree with a barely restrained sniffle. you refuse to allow the tears beading your waterline to fall, but daryl sees them all the same.

oddly, he feels that familiar warmth blossom in his chest. he hates to see you upset, but to see your love, your heart laid so bare for him? daryl thinks he can finally understand the depth of your affections.

plus one.

to anybody who knew what to look for, it was obvious that you and daryl were.. something.

you remembered when the woodbury residents had really began to settle in, how they began to whisper about ‘the hunter and his lady’.

it had confused you at first. the group knew, of course, nothing could be kept a secret from them for too long, but for strangers? it was odd, given that you weren’t very public with your affections.

regardless, with an entire prison to secure and almost triple the amount of people to provide for, it was nothing to think too hard about. there was always something that needed to be done or something bigger to think about. you couldn't afford to think about it now.

eventually, though, you ended up mentioning it to carol, and the older woman had laughed, a teasing edge to her smile as she considered you.

“i think it has less to do with you and more with him, if i’m being honest,” she said.

“more to do with.. daryl?” you said slowly, raising an incredulous eyebrow, “nah, no way.”

carol hummed, her smile turning knowing, “just watch. he’s more affectionate than he gives himself credit for.”

you’d left the conversation feeling like carol had no idea what she was talking about. later that evening, though, when you were sitting with the group for dinner and daryl was sliding a couple pieces of meat from his plate to yours despite your multiple protests, you understood.

your face must have been the textbook picture of a lightbulb going off because carol sent you a wink from across the table, lips twitching like she was hiding a laugh.

it wasn’t that the woodbury residents were over analyzing the very minimal physical affection that passed between you and daryl in a day, no. instead they were observing his quieter, more unconscious actions.

they saw the way that daryl always took care to come and find you before leaving for a run, even if it meant holding everyone up a little.

and how every so often they could find daryl sharpening a knife that was far too small for him to be wielding safely while you sat nearby, watching with a grateful smile.

and how whenever you were in the same room, you always had his eye. daryl had been adamant about keeping you within his sights while you were on the road, and the habit hadn’t left him just because you were behind walls now.

even now, months later, the newer additions to the prison were starting to catch on quicker and quicker.

they overheard daryl talking to glenn about taking your place on the run later today because you’d overdone it in the sun earlier and he wanted you to get some rest.

they saw you gush excitedly every time daryl brought you back any kind of gift, whether it be a pretty rock that he thought you’d like, or your favorite animal to cook into the stew.

they watched him watch the road every time you left for a run, regardless of who was with you, and also saw him come back to be the first to greet you when you returned if he could help it.

daryl was a quiet lover and a private man if you didn’t know what to look for, but if you did, you’d see that his affections ran just as deep as yours.

your thoughts brought a sleep smile to your face as you stretched out on the cot in your shared cell, waiting for daryl to shut off the lantern on your makeshift nightstand in the corner.

you could barely make him out in the dark, but the weight of him settling in next to you sent you right into his arms, your head pillowed on his chest while his arms came up to wrap around your back.

you tilted your head up to place a small kiss to the bottom of his jaw, mumbling a quiet, “love you.”

daryl’s arms tightened around you momentarily before loosening again. you felt him lean down to press a kiss to your hair in turn.

just over the steady thumping of his heart against your ear, you could hear him whisper back, “love you too.”

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #twd imagine #daryl x reader

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norman-fucking-reedus · 11 days

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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, almost blinding him, and the heat was scorching his skin. The texture of his vest was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, causing his already aching teeth to grind against each other. He could feel his razor-sharp fangs digging into the tender skin of his bottom lip, further adding to his discomfort.

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 fromt 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

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 7 months

Text

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 14

Part 1 Part 13

Even with rationing, it doesn’t seem to take long for the water to start running dry. Days, maybe, but it’s hard to say without a clock. The red of the sky never fluctuates. It’s red. Red, red, read. Steve’s starting to hate the color.

They’ve slept three times, but Steve suspects the boredom of rotting in the Munson’s trailer might be getting to them. There’s only so many games of truth or dare you can play until you start to drift.

So, water’s been getting low. The crease between Eddie’s brows has grown deeper each time he takes a furtive swig.

“We should go get water,” he says.

Steve doesn’t want to go out there. His shoulder still aches, sharp agony turned dull. It’s black around the edges, flesh turning necrotic. He hasn’t let Eddie see it since that first day; doesn’t want to needlessly frighten him.

“Steve?”

Steve heaves a sigh before heading to the door where he left his sneakers. “Maybe grab a few shirts to filter that shit again?”

Eddie follows him, plopping down to tug his boots on while Steve shimmies his own shoes on leaning against the door, one foot at a time.

“I was thinking we’d just take it back here and filter it in the bathroom,” Eddie says, yanking his laces tight. “Seems safer to do it with a locked door between us and anything trying to eat us.”

Steve thinks of his own house and the monster that got inside. Remembers the way the lock clicked on the door to the back porch. Had they locked the front? Did it matter, when that thing had knocked down his front door like it was made of tissue paper? He keeps his mouth shut.

“Good thinking.”

They go. It’s not a long trip, except how all trips feel long when there’s ash falling from the sky, and a shotgun clutched tightly enough to make your fingers numb, and Eddie Munson biting his lip to keep quiet at your side.

Steve feels woozy, like he used to during his brief stint in middle school wrestling. Coach would tell him to drop a certain weight and he would, counting calories at lunch with Carol, both ignoring Tommy’s snide comments. He’d only lasted a year. Didn’t like the uniforms, or the weight limits, or the violence.

He feels just the same now, only worse. He knows you’re supposed to eat sugar after you donate at the blood drive. Steve donated a lot of his own blood to that thing’s claws and hasn’t eaten anything at all.

The quarry looks just as the same as last time – bloody. They form an efficient assembly line – Steve plucking lids of bottles and passing them to Eddie where he’s standing with his toes in the water. Eddie fills them as Steve prepares the next bottle, taking the filled one back and replacing the lid before doing it all over again. It moves quicker without the need to sift.

It still feels like too long by the time they’ve packed all the bottles away.

It’s quiet on the way up the incline. Quiet through town. It’s quiet all the way up until they hear the sound of pounding feet.

Steve hears it first. He reaches out, snagging Eddie’s elbow, as the sound of steps move closer.

“Wha–” Eddie starts.

“Shut up,” Steve hisses.

They’re on the path heading toward the trailer park, just before the pavement turns to gravel and the trailers come into view. The forest looms on their right. That’s where the sound is coming from.

It sounds like a person. It can’t be that thing – it had moved silently except the vocalizations from its mouth. But, what if it’s a trick? What if it’s a trap? What if he and Eddie have both cracked and there’s nothing there at all?

He shoves Eddie a step behind him, the other boy stays alarmingly quiet as Steve raises his shotgun and puts his finger on the trigger, scope trained on the noise coming toward them through the woods, ignores the way his hands are shaking.

What bursts through the trees isn’t what they could have ever expected. It’s a kid with a tragic bowl cut. He’s got a dirty flannel with a garish red and yellow vest thrown over it. The knees of his ratty jeans are covered in dirt, his palms scraped, like his foot had caught on a few roots in his mad dash away from something Steve doesn’t even want to think about.

His pupils are pinpricks, the whites of his eyes almost glowing as he looks from Eddie to Steve, who still has his finger on the trigger. Pointing at a kid. He drops his grip on the trigger, slowly lowering the shotgun even though all he wants to do is drop it, kick it as far away as possible, and hold up his empty hands as a show of how dangerous he’s not.

It's a fucking kid. He can’t be older than thirteen.

“It was behind me,” the kid says.

Eddie sucks in a harsh breath behind Steve, and he knows they’re both thinking of the same thing. Bloody claws, and petaled mouths that open to display rows of teeth in gleaming, concentric circles.

“Shit,” Steve says, “Go go go!” He turns to jog down the path, picking up his pace when he hears two sets of footsteps following in his wake.

He reaches the door first, and yanks it open just as he hears it – an inhuman shriek. It’s indescribable. And unmistakable.

When he turns back, Eddie and the kid have just come into view. He gestures them wildly to speed up, to get through the door, to fucking run.

It unfolds in front of him like a dream: the way Eddie’s dragging the kid by his arm, feet moving fast enough to blur even as it feels like they’re not making any headway at all. The way the shriek grows louder.

When they finally make it to the Munson trailer, they fall through the threshold, tripping over the rug at the entryway. Steve closing the tissue paper door behind them. He stands, braced for impact, gun raised and pointing at the closed front door.

The shriek grows louder, and louder, and louder, until it peters off. Fades away. Like the thing had found new prey to terrorize. It takes long minutes of tense silence for Steve to lower the shotgun, turn to the other two huddled behind him.

Eddie has his arms up, as if he can shield the kid from that thing should it huff and puff its way through the matchstick front door. Hell, maybe he can. But, at Steve’s lowered gun, he drops heavily to the couch, slamming his forehead to his hands, fingers gripped into his hair hard enough that it has to hurt.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Steve asks, looking at the kid. It comes out harsher than he means it to. The kid flinches, takes a startled step back toward Eddie.

“What Harrington means,” Eddie says, raising his head just enough to glare at Steve, “is are you okay?”

The kid sniffles, turning toward Eddie. His fists are balled at his sides even as he nods. “I’m fine,” the kid says, voice shaking enough to give his lie away.

“And what’s your name?” Eddie asks.

“Will,” he says, fingers loosening, shoulders falling. “Will Byers.”

Eddie gasps theatrically. “Not any relation to the great Jonathan Byers?”

For the first time, the kid smiles. It makes him look even younger. Steve’s stomach churns. “He’s my brother,” Will says, smiling shyly down at Eddie.

Steve has a hazy memory of a boy with an equally tragic bowl cut, disappearing into the hallways of the high school, sinking into the bleachers of sporting events, face hidden behind a camera. He wonders if that’s Will’s brother. If he’s missing him.

“And how did you get here, Will?” Steve asks, carefully modulating his voice. Keeping it even. Keeping it low. Will flinches, but he doesn’t step back again. Eddie still glares at Steve from behind the kid’s head.

“The Demogorgon,” Will says, “It got me.”

Part 15

#steddie upsidedown au #steddie fic #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #my fic #i accidentally deleted half this part and had to write it AGAIN which was infuriating

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itsgrimeytime · 9 months

Text

When he needs to sleep... || Rick Grimes (TWD)

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax

Rick hadn't slept for days. You knew it, you could see it, weight rolling off his shoulders, staggering for just a second -almost off balance. The way he leaned a tiny bit in to anyone he spoke to. A small little sliver of space that he'd push forward into, hard to notice, but you did.

Almost searching for the warmth there, the safety-

"We can settle down 'ere 'til sunrise," he echoed out, voice gruff and slurred slightly -could be seen as a mumble, but there was something in the drawl there. Tired, "-keepin' ya updated, Carol has the stock of food, and Daryl any extra weapons. If ya need to leave, for whatever reason, tell me."

"Blankets?" someone questioned -you weren't sure exactly who.

"In the backpacks," he answered -directly, "-should be one for every two of us."

And with that, the group disbanded from formality, all gathering together for warmth -the night wasn't quite chilly yet, but you knew it would be. The night was just beginning, and it was just about time that the temperatures cooled off in the night -which was nice on blearly hot days but this one was more mucky than anything else. You'd hardly seen the sun at all.

You'd neatly stayed where you were -as everyone else disbursed, only you and Rick remained.

You could almost see the weight in his shoulders, heavy. It was almost weighing him down physically, as his eyes scattered along the people -anywhere but at you, you realized.

"Rick...?" You questioned, light and not pushy or demanding, or anything, other than soft, "-Do you... Do you have a minute?"

He was slow to look at you, blue eyes flickering over your frame quickly, maybe even a little hesitantly. You knew the thing you had wasn't exactly clear. Rick was very preoccupied, and it was the apocalypse.

There wasn't time right now to ask. You wanted to, but you weren't sure you ever would. He always just had something else on his mind, something far, far more important than what you wanted to talk about.

"Yeah," his voice was soft, gruff, as he sunk into a spot a little distant from everyone else. Enough for people to not hear you talking -you imagined it was on purpose.

You sat beside him (close, you weren't sure you could ever be close enough-), slow measured steps -not too quick, and not too direct. It wouldn't do any good to be accusatory, not now.

He was just so... tired.

Before you could speak, Daryl threw over a blanket that landed neatly on Rick's lap -merely nodding at the two of you. And as you'd come to realize, Rick's nod back was their own sort of language -big talks every once and a while, but an understanding more than anything, brotherly.

And even then, your words were halted in your throat.

Rick had wordlessly unfolded the blanket (creases so crisp, you knew it had to be Carol's doing), moving on autopilot. With one hand he nudged you closer and with the other, he spread the blanket across your legs -tucking it under your side. Thoughtfully.

You couldn't think of a time he hadn't done something thoughtfully, the man had the biggest heart you'd ever seen-

"'At okay?" He spoke, voice low and you were so close you could feel the rumble of his chest -tired, so tired.

You hummed, moved slightly pulling the blanket properly over his legs -you just moved a touch closer if it pulled away from you, "Now, it is."

He smiled, a lazy fond sort of smile and something in you flipped. He looked beautiful then, leaning against the tree the two of you sat in front of -curls pushed forward, a sort of fuzz slinking over his eyes, and a tired, but true, smile.

Something in you guided your hand to his curls, smoothing through his scalp and focusing where you thought it mattered. It was a kind of fluid motion -solid and yet somehow still soft. What you hadn't expected was for him to neatly push into your hand -leaning into you, eyes slinking to a close and a deep thrum echoing out his throat.

"Rick," you spoke, still slow, still gentle, "-have you been sleeping?"

"S'at what ya wanted to talk about?"

"Yeah," you answered, still smoothing through his curls -combing with your fingers.

"'Course it is," he breathed out -slurred slightly from the warm comfort you imagined he was experiencing, "-you're always worryin' 'bout me."

"Wouldn't have to be," you teased -light and airy, "- if you slept."

"I do, I do," he relented, only making the tiniest of motions to be closer to you -like he was seeking you out, "-just can't recently. Not with..."

Rick paused, you could almost see the tense aura smooth over his skin -like he was coming back down to earth. A stressful earth.

"'Been focusin' on a shelter," he added -late, and you knew it was only part of the truth, "-can't stand everybody bein' so... unprotected out 'ere."

You pursed your lips, "Rick-"

"'Just want everyone safe," he echoed, his tone hanging in the silence for a second -heavy, maybe even watery (his eyes were still closed), "-for once."

"You can't..." you started, before correcting, "-Don't discount what you've done already. We have guns, we have food-"

He only seemed to listen.

"Think of where'd we be without any of that," you explained, "-sure, we don't have a shelter yet, and the sooner the better, but... we do have a place to sleep for the night and blankets to help with the cold."

You moved your hand to his face, mindlessly tracing the eyebags under his eyes, "You're doing your best."

Rick was slow to open his eyes -blue eyes a little shiny, mouth a little twisted like he was holding something back. Your hand curled to the side of his face and the other doing just the same, holding him there. Reaching your fingers up to push some curls behind his ears, and gently tilt him to face you.

He merely followed the movement, loose as a little trickle of tears danced down his cheeks -just a few, and you thought they might've just been a relief. But it was okay if they weren't. You smoothed your fingers over them, wiping them away with caring ease -Rick only watched your face, lingering.

"Rick," you hummed -soft, just between the two of you, "-you wanna sleep?"

"I can't," he grumbled out, broken, tired, and teary-

"I can try and get Daryl to-"

"No, not-" he started but stopped, bringing up his hands to cover yours on his face -desperate and his eyes getting foggy, "-I can't. I close my eyes and jus' can't stop thinkin'. Like what if I got someone hurt because I wasn't there? What if Carl, or Judith, or you-"

"Rick, hey, hey-" you shushed, thumbs swiping gently along his cheeks -tears disappearing with the motion and tilted to meet his eyes, "-everyone is okay."

"It jus' takes a second," he mumbled out, breaths a little shaky and maybe he was leaning heavily into your hands but you didn't mind, "-a second that I'm lookin' not where I'm supposed to-"

"Rick," you hushed with an air of finality, locking eyes with him -his cheeks were beginning to blush from the tears, "-first off, everything is not on you. If they're someone who's been living in this world long enough they should know the dangers. But, going on your logic-"

He just watched you -blue eyes looking at you like you held the secrets to the world.

"You can't be nearly as attentive when you're falling asleep," you finished, succinctly, and a little playful in your tone -just for a smile.

He granted you one, a small one but a beautiful one all the same -leaning into your right hand slightly more, which tilted his head, "Very comfortin', sweetheart."

"I try," you smirked, before turning somewhat more serious, "-will you? Try to sleep. I know... I know it's not easy but, I just- I want you to try."

Rick grumbled out, sleepy and warm (it made something in your heart squeeze that this was what he probably sounded like if you woke up beside him), "I can try, for you."

"Deal," you grinned, pulling him forward and kissing his cheek in gratitude.

And if he slept like a baby with his head in your lap, that was between the two of you and no one else. (Or at least that's what you told Daryl when he caught sight of it in the early morning.)

#rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #stuff n' thangs #twd blurb #rick grimes blurb #its griming time #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x you #twd oneshot #im backkkk #missed writing blurbs so here you go #rick grimes oneshot #rick grimes #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes fluff

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imaginedanvrs · 3 months

Text

how the mighty crumble

masterlist

sub!carol danvers x dom!reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: corruption and innocence kink, size kink, fingering, strap on use (r giving), praise, degrading, overstimulation, accidental burning (light)

“I know it hurts a little, but you can take it, can’t you?” She whined back at you and you generously gave her the chance to correct herself before you had to do it for her. You had to cut her some slack when you were pushing her limits, understanding that the stretch of having three fingers in her cunt was going to make her head nice and empty.

So instead of slapping her puffy clit as you so cruelly wanted to do, you grabbed the underside of her leg below the knee and hiked it up onto the space next to her chest, watching the prominent muscle of her thighs flex as she wailed. How someone could be so strong yet so breakable you never understood, but you were thankful to whatever gods placed her in your bed. As if that combo didn’t make your stomach flip enough, Carol Danvers was surprisingly innocent when she first stumbled upon your path.

“Hurts…so deep,” she struggled to communicate, a crease appearing between her brows as she looked to you for guidance. Your fingers had disappeared down to the knuckle, her greedy pussy swallowing them and clenching down everytime you withdrew your digits to pump steadily.

“I know, princess, it feels good too though, right?” Just like it feels good to have royalty spread open beneath me.

“So good,” she whined with that voice that drove you crazy. She sounded so desperate, so weak, so lacking in control. Carol was a woman of unimaginable power. She could, and had, bring down entire empires and have them crumbling beneath her very feet. She had the power of a goddamn sun. Yet she struggled to take your fingers without turning into a mess.

“Tingles,” she told you, breathless and at the mercy of the pleasure you had gifted her.

“And what should you do when it starts to tingle?” You questioned, waiting to see if she still at least had some self-control as she clamped around your three fingers.

“Can I cum…please?” She asked, sounding just as innocent as the first time you had fucked her. Piece by piece, you had methodically stripped away that initial purity by introducing her to so many things. Even after all that, she continued to cling to some semblance of innocence, as though she wanted your gradual corruption to continue as much as you did.

“Of course, princess, go ahead,” you encouraged as you continued to pump your fingers into her dripping cunt at a steady pace. As much as you wanted to make her cry, you held off for the time being, opting to fuck her tenderly as she grew used to the distant stretch. It was only prep afterall.

Carol truly did sound like royalty as she came, shuddering and moaning so beautifully as she soaked your fingers. You leant down and began to suck possessive marks across her collarbone and breasts, fingering her through her high and into another. She squirmed beneath you, finding it all so overwhelming but holding no desire for it to end. She scratched down your back, so caught up in her bliss that she forgot her own strength as she dug her nails in. You didn’t mind the pain, only taking it as encouragement to focus all three fingers on that special spot inside the captain that practically made her scream.

You smirked against her once you coaxed the reaction out of her, steadying your digits as she came around them again. Even after you had pushed her walls the accommodate more than usual, she still felt so tight around you as she came, allowing you to ruin her all over again as she mewled. You took your soaked fingers out of her cunt and held them to your both, smiling down at the exhausted hero as you tasted her arousal. She stared up at you through hooded eyes, mesmerised by the sight of you enjoying her further until you dropped your hand to your briefs that held the largest toy you owned.

Although Carol had seen it earlier, her eyes still widened as she took in the cock you stroked with your glistening wet hand, using your spit and the reminients of the blonde’s wetness as lube to prepare her. You had wanted to use it since your first time together, struggling to resist the urge to throw Carol over your kitchen counter and fuck her relentlessly until her innocence had dissipated. But you had been patient, and it was finally about to pay off.

“You’re gonna look so pretty getting filled with this cock, baby,” you assured the hero as you massaged her thighs. She preened under the attention that soothed her worries regarding whether or not you were even going to fit. Still, she voiced the concerns as you had taught her to, ensuring you never took it too far with the beautiful blonde.

“What if it doesn’t fit?” She asked with uncertainty as she eyed the toy you couldn’t stop touching.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make sure it does,” you said sweetly to front the burning impatience you held.

You kissed down her neck in all of the tender spots that made her shudder as you dragged your cock between her thighs, settling it comfortably against her awaiting pussy. She grew breathless again, this time in an excited anticipation that was soon relieved when you pushed the silicone inside. Carol gasped, clinging to your back once more while you held back on forcing it all in at once to hear her cry.

“Y/n,” she cried out as her walls stretched further for your unforgiving cock. The pressure was immense and the pain was perfect, making Carol wetter the more you gave her. She had never taken anything so big, never felt so utterly fucked and you were still only half way in.

You paused momentarily when Carol uttered for you to do so. “You’re so perfect,” you told her, holding her waist tight. “So obedient, so good,” you continued, withdrawing your hips slightly to push back in without going further. She couldn’t give you a verbal response, only moaning as you lightly fucked open her swollen cunt until the promise that she could feel it so much more finally clicked.

“More,” she called out, not truly understanding what she was asking for until you snapped your hips forward and suddenly she was full to the brim.

“Ah!” She sounded so fucking good that you didn’t dare stop, snapping your hips frantically against the captain and abusing her sore pussy in the process. Carol had never felt so used in her entire life and she loved how powerless she felt.

“S’too much,” she told you even though her cunt was soaking the sheets beneath you.

“Take it,” you practically growled as you gazed down at the sight of Carol enveloping your cock with greed. “Fucking take it,” you ordered, pressing yourself entirely into her as you fucked her without relent. As though her mind and body were competing for their say on what they could handle, Carol wrapped her legs around your waist and pulled you impossibly deeper into her with a sharp cry. You smirked at the action, recognising that she was completely at the mercy of her own desire.

“I wish you could see how your greedy pussy just sucks me in,” you told Carol in a grunt, holding her down with enough force to bruise any normal human. “You’re not the tough Captain they all think you are. You’re just a little slut,” you told her as she continued to moan helplessly. You throbbed at the sight of it all, vaguely feeling how Carol’s stretched cunt continued to hug your cock.

“Yeah,” she whimpered, fully aware that it was something she never would have admitted prior to meeting you. “Yours,” she added, knowing how it made your insides flip.

“Please can I…cum?” She babbled, head empty, as you thrust the cock at a pace she couldn’t keep up with nor match given how raw she was. “Please,” she added as tears finally began to stream down her face. You wished you could have taken a picture of the sight to keep with you everywhere you went, luckily it was easily engraved in your memory.

“Go ahead, princess, soak my cock,” you ordered, a mere second before she let a string of whorish moans escape her soft lips.

Carol couldn’t have held herself back any longer if she wanted to, too dumbed down to be able to find the strength that you had drained her of in the best way possible. Except this time when her orgasm rushed through her body, the overstimulation had her system going into a defensive state and her hands suddenly began to burn at your back.

“Fuck,” you hissed. You looked down at Carol’s blissed features and didn’t dare interrupt the waves of pleasure she had worked so hard to earn, so you endured the non serious heat on your back with a sense of pride until the captain’s senses gradually dulled and her powers dispersed.

“It’s okay,” you cooed when you slipped the toy out and heard Carol whine. She was understandably sore and incredibly sensitive, so you swiftly tossed your brief harness onto the floor somewhere and enveloped yourself and Carol with several soft blankets as she always needed after. You wrapped your arms around her exhausted frame as you did so, making sure she felt entirely cocooned in your safety. She must have as she nuzzled into your neck and clung to your body, keeping you desperately close.

“You did so well for me, princess. So perfect,” you muttered as you stroked her back and tried not to focus on the dull pain of the light deep burns on your own. They weren’t bad, but you would wait a while until you mentioned it to the captain because in that moment, all that mattered to you was making sure she was okay.

#carol danvers smut #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers #carol danvers imagine #marvel #gxg marvel

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olsenmyolsen · 5 months

Text

I'm Free Tonight

master list

dark master list

MCU Compliant (Female Reader X Carol Danvers)

Summary: A lovely stranger saves you from a boring Christmas Gala.

Word Count: 2.8K

Content: Just Fluff

"You alone?"

You looked up from your seat at the round table and saw the blue eyes of a blonde you'd never seen before.

She wore a beautiful maroon and blue dress with a gold chest piece. Your dress looked silly in comparison, no matter how much your girlfr- ex girlfriend(?) paid for it.

And she wasn't cheap.

An heiress, some would call her.

Others used the word bitch.

You tore your eyes away from the blonde and gestured to a woman at the bar. Clearly drunk and openly flirting with one of the groomsmen. "Supposed to be with her."

The blonde looked where you pointed, and the curiosity on her face turned into one of disappointment.

Followed by a smirk.

"Well, I'm Carol. Carol Danvers." The blon- Carol switched her champagne flute from her right to her left hand. She extended the right to you when you looked up to her.

"Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N." You shook her hand and were surprised to feel a tight grip. You quickly realized how strong Carol was as you checked out the definition and muscles on her arms. "May I?" Carol pointed to the seat to the left of you. "Go ahead." You said with a smile that Carol reciprocated.

Carol also chose this seat so you'd be facing away from the bitch that left you alone.

You turned away from the bar and towards Carol. "How do you know the couple hosting?" Carol asked. "I don't. My date does."

That made sense. Since Carol noticed you hours earlier, she couldn't figure out how you wound up at a place like this. Surrounded by people whose hands were never clean. Politicians and models. Wall Street bros and CEO's. You stuck out—a ray of innocence and good radiated from you. Kind hearted.

Carol knew it to be true when she saw how awful your date treated you.

"Ah," Carol said as she lifted the glass and took a sip of the golden bubbles. "I hope you don't mind me asking... Who is she? Your date?" Carol set her glass down and looked at you in the eyes. "Oh, her name is-"

"Oh no, I'm sorry." Carol stopped you as she reached a hand out to your arm. "I meant, who is she to you."

It felt like a trick question, like Carol knew the truth.

Carol kept her fingers resting on your arm while waiting for your eyes to meet hers. "She's..."

You sighed.

Carol patted your arm. "Think about it." She removed her touch from you, and you missed her warm fingers.

You watched as they wrapped around the glass of champagne. "If it makes you feel better, I'm not supposed to be here," Carol spoke up with a shrug.

"You're not?" Carol watched your forehead crease when you didn't believe her. "No. I'm here doing a favor for a friend." You looked around the room, and like Carol did with you earlier, you couldn't believe someone like her could be here. "What friend?" You asked, making Carol smile.

"The King of Asgard, Valkyrie." She said casually without hesitation.

"Oh!" You said, surprised and bewildered. "I still have yet to visit New Asgard.." You really have been meaning to, but it's not like money grows on trees for you. "I hear it's lovely."

"It is," Carol replies. "So.." Carol leans closer. "Are you done thinking about my question from earlier? What is she..." Carol gestures to the woman you came here with. "..to you. Because she sure as hell isn't your girlfriend."

You followed Carol's eyes and saw the woman kissing the neck of a man you wouldn't give the time of day.

You turned back and looked at Carol.

You sighed and put both arms on the table in a defeated position. "I was her date for tonight, but no, I've never met her until two days prior when I was introduced by her team. I was hired to help clean up her image, but..." You looked back. "Looks like that's not happening."

Carol hummed. "So you're an escort?"

"Blunt, but yes... that's one word for it." You replied. Carol leaned back into her chair and appreciated the honesty coming from you.

"How much did she pay you?"

You certainly weren't expecting that question, and you couldn't tell by the smirk Carol was hiding behind her glass if she was serious or not.

So you decided to forget about the girl you came with and play the game Carol was hopefully playing.

"Why? Think you can afford me?"

That made the blonde laugh. "I know I can." Her voice was lower as she spoke to you. "But I'm not looking to pay. I want you if you want to come along."

That made something in your stomach twirl.

"And where would we go?"

"Wherever you want. But hopefully far away from here."

You peeled your eyes away from the blonde and looked around the room. It was dreadful and boring. This was presented as a Christmas gala, but it was nothing more than a night to fuck and make business deals to everyone else but you.

You were here for a job, but you were clearly left to your own devices.

Until Carol showed up.

"Okay." You said as you turned back to the blonde and nodded. "Let's get out of here."

Carol's eyes lit up. She watched you stand up and down your glass of champagne before extending your hand to her. Carol did the same with her glass before taking your hand. "Thank you." She smiled as she rose to her feet. "No, thank you!"

Carol led you out of the grand mansion you couldn't for the life of you remember the name of and to the valet kiosk. Carol handed the greying man a ticket stub and wrapped her arm around you as you two waited for his return.

"Is this okay?" She asked, forcing you to look up to her eyes. "Me... touching you? Holding you?" You nodded. "It's great." Carol smiled. "Good to know."

Carol felt your skin become scattered with goosebumps. She thought it might've been from the cold wind in the air, but if asked, you would've been honest and told her it was because of her—the blonde with her hand moving up and down your arm.

She smiled.

You two stood in silence, accepting the comfort the other one brought when the valet pulled up in a black sports car that would never be in your tax bracket.

"What a beautiful car, Miss. Please enjoy your evening." The man said to Caol as he handed her the keys before scurrying away.

She simply smirked and moved her arm from around you to your arm closest to her. "Shall we?" You nodded and let Carol lead you to the passenger door. She opened it for you and let go of you as you entered.

She watched the slit of your dress rise as you sat down in the brown leather seat. Her eyes then traveled down to your legs and the heels that went perfectly with your dress. "Good?" She then asked. "Good." You replied before Carol smiled and closed the door.

You watched her move around the front of the car and slide into the driver's seat. The seat adjusted to her, and you watched the steering wheel move to compliment her. "Wow." Carol turned to your voice.

"Kind of a lot, right?" You shrugged and looked into her blue eyes. "It's kinda cool." You tried to be nonchalant, but you were in awe of everything, and Carol knew it.

Carol hit some buttons on the display in the middle and found a radio station playing a pop hit.

Olivia Rodrigo specifically.

The music was kept at a lower volume as Carol waited for you to buckle up. "Safety first, sweetheart." She said, making your stomach flip at the pet name. "Sorry." You mumbled as your cheeks grew red, and Carol buckled herself up before turning up the heat and placing the car in drive.

"You hungry?" Carol hadn't eaten any of the fancy shit the gala was offering. It was all themed around the holiday, and she knew for a fact that you hadn't had a single bite.

You wanted to lie, but with Carol asking in a honey-dripping tone, and one look at her made you nod. "Starving." You said.

However, food wasn't the first thing you were thinking about eating.

Carol smirked as if she could read your mind.

She removed her right hand from the steering wheel and placed it on your thigh as she kept her eyes on the road. The speed of the car picking up.

Her palms on your skin burned with waves of pleasure. "I'll find somewhere for us," Carol said, making you nod. Carol briefly looked over at you and smiled.

She was loving the game that was being played.

In addition, she loved the touch of you. The feeling of your goosebumps spreading across your body every time her fingers lifted up and down your soft, ample skin.

She was also enjoying you—your company.

Carol never got to do stuff like this.

But she was making the most of tonight.

"Is this still okay?" Carol asked as her hand moved slightly up your thigh. Pushing your dress up. "Yes." You said as you buried a moan in your throat.

"Do I feel good? My touch against your body?" Carol asked as she turned her head to you. She watched your side profile nod and swallow before you parted your pink lips. "You feel so good, Carol."

Her blue eyes found the road again.

"Good, sweetheart." Carol patted your thigh and kept you wanting more. "You're doing so well for me."

You whimpered upon hearing the praises of a woman you just met. "Ah, here we go," Carol said, making you do your best to focus on what was worth pulling off the side of the road.

Surprised, you looked at Carol as she put the car in park.

Carol turned to you.

"What's wrong?" She unbuckled her seatbelt and brought a hand up to your face. Moving a hair behind your ear. "You said you were starving." You leaned into her touch ever so slightly and nodded. "I am."

"Then let's eat." Carol smiled and removed her touch from you again as she climbed out of the car.

You kept your eyes on Carol as she closed the door. You watched her pass in front of the neon 24/7 Diner sign before she made it to your passenger door. She opened it and quickly helped you out. "It's somehow gotten colder. Come on." Her hand and fingers became intertwined with yours as she pulled you to the front of the restaurant.

You two seated yourselves in a booth once you entered like a bunch of giggly teenagers.

There was only the waitstaff and three other patrons inside. You and Carol were obviously dressed the best.

"This definitely beats the Gala," Carol said, making you look up from your menu with a smile. "It does."

Carol placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hand. "Tell me something," Carol said with a teasing smirk. "Are you enjoying how the night has gone?"

You dropped your menu onto the table. "I'm loving it. Thank you."

Carol shook her head. "No, thank you." Her leg rubbed up against yours in a gentle manner. "Now, what are you thinking about having?" Carol's eyes found the menu again, but you stared straight ahead.

Carol knew it.

"They don't have me on the menu." You brushed your leg higher against Carol. "Shame. Because I'd love a taste."

You were bold, and you didn't know where it was coming from, but tonight, with Carol, you felt free. You weren't being paid to be someone else. You felt like a new person. Or maybe it was just you being yourself? Regardless, you loved it.

After a waitress came by, you and Carol Danvers ordered cheeseburgers with a basket of fries and a shake, to split, obviously.

The food was wonderful, and the flirting mixed in with conversation was even better.

The highlight might have been when you showed Carol that you could, in fact, tie a cherry stem into a knot in your mouth. You held it between your teeth with pride as Carol smirked at you and, without warning, connected your lips together. Her tongue swiping the stem out of your mouth and into hers.

When she smiled a few seconds later, the knot was undone, and Carol couldn't help but wink at you.

You felt your stomach flip again.

"Whenever you're ready to leave, we can," Carol said to you, only to earn a nod.

Carol laughed at that and stood up as she placed a stack of uncounted bills from her clutch.

"Okay, so maybe you could afford me for the night." You said, taking Carols' hand as you slid out of the booth. "I told you." She smugly replied as she led you out of the diner.

The cold air catching you off guard, but your grip on Carols' hand remained strong. "Come on." She squeezed your hand and bit back a smile before you two ended up on the driver's side of the car.

Carol held the key in her other hand.

"What?" You asked as Carol looked at your eyes. "You're just beautiful." The blonde said, moving her body to be pressed up against yours.

You stumbled a step back as you found your back up against Carols car.

"Is this still okay?" Carols breath was shaky as she held her lips dangerously close to yours.

In the neon glow of the diner sign, you nodded. "Just kiss me again." Carol held in a moan as she did what you asked. The softness of her lips landed on yours.

You pulled her body closer.

Her hands found your hips and squeezed them, making you squeal in delight. "Fuck Carol!" You laughed into Carols mouth.

"Oh, you're such a pretty girl," Carol replied in a hushed tone as she pushed her front up against you more. Feeling the tremble in your legs and warmth from your pussy.

But the sweetest bit was the taste of chocolate on your lips.

"I want you." You moaned into Carols ear.

Carol couldn't be happier. "I want you too." She kissed your neck, jaw, and lips again.

You bit your lips and looked up at her. "Let's go then." You turned around and pressed your ass against Carol and made a gesture for the car keys, but Carol smiled before laughing. "Oh, no, baby. I don't think so."

You tilted your head as you were still catching your breath. "And why is that?" You opened the car door and waited for Carol's answer.

That's when you watched Carol's hand curl and close around the key. Suddenly, her hand began to glow bright and orange. You couldn't believe what you were seeing, and when she opened her hand again, the key was nothing but a pile.

You waited for an answer.

"Remember that story I told you? About the pilot?"

Carol tilted her hand, and you both watched the remnants of the key fall to the asphalt.

You looked up to Carol and thought back to the story she told you across the booth earlier. "So it was you? You have powers?" Carol nodded and made her hands glow again. "What about your car?" You asked honestly.

"The car and cash were never mine." The glow from her hands faded as she stepped into space between your legs. "It was your awful heiress of a date."

Carol touched the top of your head and ran her hand down the side of your face. "I think you and I had a better time than you would with her." She purrs as she kisses your cheek. "Don't you think?"

You nod and move your lips to brush hers. "I do." You find Carol's hands and hold them. "I can work with this."

"Are you sure?"

Carol asks, even though both want this.

"Yes."

Carol kisses you and pulls you close. "Hold on to me." You wrap your arms tightly around Carol's body, and slowly, you feel your feet leave the ground. "Keep your eyes on me," Carol said, and when you looked at her, you saw that her dress had changed into a suit.

One a superhero would wear.

"You brought us back..." You whispered into the space between the two of you. She heard you.

You watched as Carol glowed brighter, and the speed at which you two were flying increased.

You and Carol slept together that night, and you remember the feeling of warmth when you woke up next to her and a cat named Goose in the bed on her spaceship.

That was five months ago, and as you watch Carol fly down to a planet below, you can't help but smile.

You weren't alone.

dividers by @/benkeibear

211 notes · View notes

fettuccin-e · 1 year

Text

Fighting Against Gravity

Description: You've hated Steve Harrington since your sophomore year, and the feeling is very much mutual. Unfortunately, with you both working at Family Video, it was only a matter of time before you got stuck on a shift together. You'll just keep your distance, hopefully.

BEHOLD!! one of the longest fics i've ever written lol (a whopping 3.6K words bahaha) and it's just me fantasizing about hate sex with Steve Harrington,,, this is addressing a prompt I got forever ago!! so anon, even though i've lost your ask, i hope you enjoy the porn :)

Steve Harrington made your life hell in high school.

Okay, maybe not him specifically, but Tommy and Carol were fucking awful to you. Tommy making obscene comments in the hallway, Carol spilling her lunch down your shirt on purpose. Carol stealing your clothes in the locker room while Tommy stuck things to your locker.

It got to the point that you would fake sickness, change your classes, park your car across the street just to avoid them. And Steve would just… stand there. He would just stand there and stare, his eyes all wide and shocked, while his friends tormented you. Doing nothing.

So, since sophomore year, you have hated Steve Harrington. Even now, after high school, the sight of him still makes your heart pound angrily, makes your fists clench and your teeth grind together. Robin insists that he’s changed, that he’s “not the same as he was in high school, come on, you’ve got to give him a chance.” Bullshit.

And what makes it worse is that Steve doesn’t even try. Ever since you got your job at Family Video, mostly to work with Robin every day, Steve Harrington has been a fucking dick. Rolling his eyes when you tell a joke, scoffing at any of your tiny complaints about school, about your job, about the various dates you’ve tried to go on that always go up in flames. He just flips his hair, crosses his arms and makes you feel like a complete fucking idiot.

“I have no idea what’s going on with him,” Robin says, shoving a few more videos into the shelves. “I swear he’s not usually like this. It’s like, only when you have a shift.”

“It’s fine,” you mumble, though the tenseness in your shoulders tells Robin that it is absolutely not fine. “If Harrington wants to stay a dick, he can. Doesn’t bother me either way, y’know? He’s been like this for years.”

A loud clatter behind you causes you to shoot up, turning your head to see the man in question with a pile of videos clutched in his hands, his knuckles white and eyebrows furrowed. You both lock eyes, and it feels like his gaze is burning into your fucking soul. It’s probably only a moment, but it feels like you spend years just staring at each other, before Steve huffs and turns away, rushing behind the counter.

Robin watches the whole exchange from the floor. “Oh,” she whispers quietly to herself. Your gaze snaps back down to her.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she says, turning back to the videos, but you can tell that it is absolutely not nothing.

“What is it Robin?”

“Nothing! Look, it’s fine, okay?” she says, and you choose to just shut up about it, murmuring a quiet “okay, okay,” while you turn back to your stack of videos.

You allow yourself to get lost in the repetitive motion of filing the films away, lost to the world while you bury yourself in your thoughts. Still stuck on your strange interaction earlier, your thoughts somehow float to Steve fucking Harrington of all people. Images flutter through your mind of his pissed off little scowl, his dark eyes burning into yours, frustrated and angry. The little crease between his eyebrows, the clench of his fists. What is his fucking problem? You shove a video a little too aggressively into its slot. You want to punch him in the nose, take him down to his knees while he prays for your forgiveness. Begging for you. His dark, angry eyes looking up at you from between your thighs, those big hands clutching into your hips-

You stumble over your own feet, nearly face planting into the carpet. Where the fuck had that come from? Fantasizing about Steve Harrington? Jesus Christ, you need to get laid if you’re actually thinking about fucking Steve of all people. Even though he is somewhat attractive, maybe to a person who doesn’t know how much of a dick he is. Maybe someone could somewhat see how pullable and soft his hair is, how fucking tight his jeans are all the time, how big his hands are. How pretty he would look with those hands around your neck, slender hips between yours-

You can feel how red your cheeks are, trying to restock videos in the most casual way possible, trying to keep your mind blissfully blank. Anything but Harrington. Literally, anything.

Fortunately for your quickly spiraling mental state, Robin feels the need to break you out of your reverie.

“Shit, um, I forgot to tell you, I need to leave early today.” Robin says, sheepish, trying not to make eye contact while the floor drops out from under your feet. You have to hold yourself back from knocking the copy of Grease from her grip. You squat down to meet her eyes.

“You’re leaving me here? With him?” you hiss, glancing over to the register where Steve is helping out a customer; a pretty girl that Steve is leaning just a little too close to to be casual. Anger swims in your gut. The unprofessionalism in this guy.

Robin finally meets your eyes, her cheeks red. “I have a date? Uh, with Vickie.” she says, and when her cheeks are all red like that, and she seems just a little ashamed, you really can’t find it in yourself to scold her. “I’m sorry,” she says, and you force yourself to believe in her apology.

“Fine, it’s fine.” you mutter, crossing your arms. “Leaving me to deal with Harrington myself, I get it.”

“Look, maybe you guys could, I don’t know, talk? While I’m gone?” Robin says, standing. “I swear to God, walking in here is like walking into a war zone.”

“Not a chance, Buckley,” you chuckle, humorlessly, but Robin laughs back all the same. “But you have fun on your date, okay?”

“Oh, I will,” she giggles, and you finally laugh genuinely. Robin hugs you gently, whispering a quiet, “good luck,” before she runs to the back to grab her backpack, and then she’s gone. Leaving you to the wolves. Or, wolf. Steve Harrington. You resolve yourself to just avoiding him, staying silent and doing your job until you can finally leave. But, in a tiny store like Family Video, keeping your distance proves quickly to be incredibly difficult. Against your will, you end up behind the counter next to Steve, trying to clean up as fast as possible.

“Excuse me, Harrington,” you mutter, bumping yourself in front of Steve’s tall body to wipe down the shelves behind the counter.

Steve jumps back like you’ve struck him, but you try to ignore it, bending further to reach the back of the shelf. You reach behind you to pull your skirt down, suddenly horribly conscious of the shortness of it.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” you hear Steve mutter, and that is it. You’re just trying to do your fucking job, and somehow he has a problem with you doing that? You straighten up and whip around to face him, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. Odd, because last you checked, Steve is taller than you. What the fuck was he looking at?

“What the fuck is your problem, Harrington?” you say, stepping toward him.

“My problem?” Steve asks, incredulous and completely fucking patronizing. “You’re asking what my problem is?”

“Yes! What is it? Because it’s like I can’t do anything right around you. Anything I do, or say, fucking think is met with, with-“

“Oh Christ,” your fists clench at Steve’s interruption. “Ever since I’ve met you, you’ve been the most uptight fucking brat I’ve ever met. Not to mention-“

“Oh fuck you, Steve.”

“Not to mention the fact that you are so caught up in who I was in fucking high school, going on and on to Robin about how much of a dick I was in school, as if people in your little world can’t change. That’s how judgemental you are, you can’t fucking let go.” Steve steps toward you, his tall body feeling like he’s looming over you.

“Let go? You and your little friends made my life a living hell. I dreaded going to school every day. And you want me to let it go?”

“It wasn’t even me doing that to you. It was Carol and Tommy-“

You poke a finger into his chest. “You just stood by-“

“I’ve tried to fucking apologize to you, but you won’t let me-“

“You’ve tried? Am I really supposed to believe that?” Steve’s angry breaths are fanning over your face, smelling like gum and cigarettes. You can see little gold flecks in his brown eyes.

“I fucking have, and you know it.” You’re both too close, too fucking close.

“Do I?”

You don’t know who moves first. Probably Steve, the impulsive asshole that he is.

Maybe it was you.

But suddenly Steve’s strong hands are gripping your jaw, your hands are winding into his soft hair, pressing yourself into him. All you know is that Steve’s lips are soft, overwhelming against yours even as your teeth clack together painfully. The kiss is wretched and messy, but Steve just presses himself in further, licking up against your teeth and forcing you to open up to him. His tongue presses against yours, slick and wet and warm. He feels so big against you, and it’s so good that it takes a moment for you to realize that you’re still kissing Steve Harrington.

You force yourself to break away, your cheeks flaming. Steve stares at you with his dark eyes, looking about as shocked as you feel with his flushed cheeks.

“I- fuck, what was that? What, what the fuck? I-“ you stumble over your words, but Steve swoops down again to lick into your mouth. You moan lightly at the taste of him, grasping onto his shoulders, and it just feels too good to pull away.

“Shut up,” Steve breathes into your mouth. “For once, just,” Steve kisses you again, almost like he’s fucking starving for it. “Shut up.”

“Make me, Harrington,” you whisper.

Steve kisses you again, harsh and unforgiving, and you gasp as his hands grip your hips, so strong that you know he’s going to leave pretty marks. Like you’re his. Your nails dig into his back as his lips leave yours, instead traveling to your throat, biting harshly, while one of his hands drifts under your skirt, playing with your throbbing clit through your panties. You can feel how soaked you are, how the wetness of your pussy is making your thighs slick and your cunt clench.

“Steve, Steve, fuck,” you whisper. Steve grunts softly into your neck, his fingers sneaking under your panties to run through your sticky wet slit, running just over your entrance.

“So fucking wet, baby,” Steve mumbles. “This all for me? You like getting me mad? Does it get you hot, babe? Make this little pussy so fucking wet?” You want to reply, a snarky comment on the tip of your tongue, but one of Steve’s long fingers is dipping into you, and it takes all of your energy just to make sure your fucking knees don’t give out. “Bet that’s why you’re such a brat all the time. Fiery little thing; you just needed to get fucked?” And his finger is suddenly moving inside you, stretching your sensitive walls.

“Oh god, Steve-” you whine, but he cuts you off again by adding another finger, jamming it inside you alongside the first. The hand he had on your hip travels around your back, holding your weak body upright.

“You look so pretty like this. You’re always such a pretty thing, aren’t you?” Your cheeks burn with the embarrassment of being so placid and submissive under Steve’s touch, but when his fingers tease at a sensitive spot so fucking deep inside, pressing harder than you can with his long fingers, you can’t bring yourself to care. And Steve just looks so pretty, his dark eyes blown wide and hair hanging in his face, and you hate that he’s so pretty. You hate how his fingers feel so fucking good.

You hate how desperate you are for his cock, the thick bulge in his jeans pressing against your thigh.

You grip his wrist, somehow finding the strength within yourself to pull his fingers out of you. You turn around, away from him to bend yourself over the counter, flipping the back of your skirt up in a clear invitation.

“Jesus Christ, baby, you want my dick that bad?” Steve grunts behind you, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“Like you don’t want my pussy just as bad, Harrington. Why don’t you follow your own advice, shut the fuck up, and fuck me?” You chuckle lightly at Steve's responding groan, and suddenly hear the tell-tale sound of a belt coming undone and a zipper being pulled down.

Steve’s cock is throbbing and sticky, needy for your pussy after fingering you. If Steve’s honest with himself, he’s been half hard since you walked in for your shift, just like he always is. But Steve would rather die than tell you that now. Maybe he’ll tell you after you agree to go on a date with him.

But that’s the least of his worries. Because right now, your pretty little pussy is right in front of him, covered just barely by your soaked panties, and you’re asking him to fuck you. Steve can’t decide if he’s dreaming or not. He really doesn’t want to wake up either way.

A high pitched whine escapes your throat when Steve pulls your panties to the side and you feel the thick head of his cock swipe through your sticky folds, far bigger than what you anticipated. It’s fucking intoxicating. You wiggle your hips back, desperate, and whisper out a desperate “please” as he finally notches himself against your entrance.

You don’t have to tell him twice, because Steve is suddenly sinking his cock into you. Slowly, so fucking slowly. Too fucking slow.

“Harrington, do you always fuck women like a 90 year old man? I thought you were a ladies man, I mean really, what happened to King Ste-”

Steve doesn’t let you finish your sentence as he grits his teeth and shoves his cock into your aching pussy, and clenches his eyes shut at the sound of your squeal, a choked moan escaping his throat as your hot cunt grips him so fucking tight.

Your fingers grip at the edge of the counter, as Steve forces his fat cock into you. The stretch burns, it burns, but it’s so good, fuck, it’s like you can feel it in your lungs. And then he moves, dragging himself out so slow you can feel every vein dragging against your walls before shoving back in again. Your bent hips are pressed against the counter while Steve has his big hands gripping your waist.

“Jesus, baby, so fucking tight for me,” he grunts, and he sounds wrecked. “Taking me in like a good little slut.”

“Steve, Steve, oh god, Steve.” You chant his name like a prayer, your voice weak and airy, legs trembling. Your pussy clenches at his words, and you lower your forehead against the cool material of the counter as you hear Steve chuckle breathlessly, obviously feeling your reaction.

“You like that, baby? Like being called a slut? Fuck, you do. You love being my fucking slut don’t you?” Steve snaps his hips forward harshly through his words, watching your ass shake under the force. Little whines are punched out of your throat with every thrust, and you just sound so pretty that Steve can’t help but bring a hand up to run it comfortingly down your spine. “Little brat, coming in here in these tiny little skirts, riling me up with your little comments. You’ve been so bad, baby, so bad to me. Just needed to be put in your place, right?”

Little tears are starting to leak from your eyes as Steve’s unforgiving thrusts into your squelching pussy, his fat cock rubbing deep into you. You jerk hard as Steve slaps a hand over your ass, the sound echoing throughout the empty store.

“I asked you a fucking question sweetheart,” Steve grunts.

You force words to come out of your throat. “Yes, yes, oh god, Steve, I needed to be put in my place, fuck. Needed, needed you to fuck me Steve, oh-” You glance forward through bleary eyes and see the parking lot just outside the window, still blissfully empty, but the shock of what you’re doing rings through you. Anyone could see you right now. Anyone could walk through those doors and see Steve Harrington fucking you like a bitch.

Your pussy throbs almost painfully, your stomach clenching, and you know, oh God, you know-

“Steve, Steve, I’m gonna, oh God, I’m gonna cum, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you whine.

But Steve does stop, and you cry out in despair as he slips out of you, his strong hands flipping you around so that you can see his flushed and sweaty face. He’s so beautiful that you could nearly pass out. Maybe you will. Steve brings a hand up to wipe a tear off your face, shushing you gently.

“Sorry baby, I just, I gotta see your face when you cum. Gotta see how fucking pretty you look.” He hitches one of your thighs up onto his hip, keeping you spread open for him, and sinks his cock back into you through his words. Your eyes roll back again at the feeling, and you barely have a moment to catch your breath before he’s pounding up into you. He forces you to take his cock all over again, and the knot in your stomach is back with a fucking vengeance.

With no counter to grip onto, your arms wrap around Steve’s shoulders, bringing him down just enough to kiss him again. He groans into your mouth, and you whine back, the both of you tangled together like you’re made for each other. You kind of hope you are.

You break your lips from his, looking up into his dark eyes as you gasp, “Gonna cum, Steve. Oh fuck, you’re gonna, you��re gonna make me cum.”

“Go ahead and cum, baby,” Steve whispers, so intimate you nearly cry harder. “Show me how pretty you look when you cum on my cock.”

Your vision whites out for a moment, your mouth gaping open in a silent scream as you clench and gush around Steve’s fat cock, still pounding relentlessly into you.

“Jesus fuck, sweetheart,” Steve whimpers, “so, fuck, so pretty.”

You gaze up at him with teary eyes, your thighs still trembling, and run a hand through his hair. “Go ahead and cum inside me, Steve. I want, shit, I want you to own me.”

You watch his eyes go wide, before his mouth drops open and his hips stutter, his thick cock throbbing inside you while he floods your sticky cunt with his cum. You hear him whispering softly, barely able to make out his little mutters of “mine, all mine,” while he comes down from his orgasm.

It takes a while for you both to stop shaking, but when you finally breathe normally again, you keep Steve pressed close. He gazes at you, eyes soft as he whispers, “For what it’s worth, I’m- I’m sorry. I know it’s too late, but I am.”

You smile at him softly. You know what he’s like, maybe you always have. Steve Harrington, as horrible as he was in high school, has changed. He’s changed into a wonderful, kind, caring man. So far from the ‘King Steve’ you once knew. You trace a gentle hand down his jaw.

“I know, Steve,” you whisper.

“But do you? I mean, I was awful to you, and I understand if maybe this was just, like, a heat of the moment thing, or whatever. I mean, I can quit if this will make you uncomfortable, knowing that I-”

“Steve,” you answer, cutting him out of his panicked rambling. “I forgive you, okay? I think… I think I forgave you a while ago. Maybe I just hadn’t realized it yet. But I do. I forgive you, Steve.”

“But-”

“I forgive you, Steve Harrington. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. For how I’ve treated you. And… And I know that we may have done this a little backwards, but I love to go on a date with you, Steve. If you wanted, y’know.”

Steve stares at you, shocked, and you open your mouth again to take it back, maybe tell him that you both can be friends, even if it’s not what you want.

But then Steve is swooping down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss, chaste and warm, and it feels like your heart is going to beat out of its chest.

“I wanna take you out so bad, sweetheart. God, I’ll treat you so good, just watch baby, I’ll-”

You giggle at him softly, pecking him on the lips again, just to feel him. And to shut him up, just maybe. It’s like you can stay in this moment forever, kissing a blushing Steve Harrington.

The sound of an approaching car roars from outside, and it’s suddenly horribly apparent that Steve’s soft cock is still inside you, your leg still hitched up onto his hip. You push him away just as he backs up, rushing to stuff his sticky cock back into his pants. He kicks his discarded belt under the counter while you pull your panties up, trying not to think too hard about the strange feeling of Steve’s cum leaking out of your gaping pussy.

The bell dings as someone walks in, and you both whip around, hoping that you look a bit more put together than you feel. You quickly try to pretend to wipe down the counters, just like earlier, but as Steve walks around you to greet the customer, he squeezes the fat of your ass, making you gasp.

You look up to meet his pretty eyes, his puffy, used lips smirking at you knowingly, wiggling his eyebrows. You giggle at him softly. Okay, maybe Steve Harrington is a dick. But maybe, just maybe, that’s not so bad.

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things smut

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sparklypinkflightsuit · 1 month

Text

Stars Align: Part 5

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Pining, Mentions of Abuse, Eventual Smut, Violence, Alcohol, Sexual Themes, Hidden Feelings, Swearing, Cheating, Established Relationship.

-- Part 4 Here --

________________________

18+ Only

________________________

Past:

You and Bradley didn't speak for a few days after your conversation at the beach, but you felt your cold shoulder beginning to fade when Bradley showed up at your door with a bunch of daisies in his hand, which he thrust at you as soon as you opened the door.

''What are these for?'' you asked.

''For whatever I did to piss you off, I'm sorry.'' he said genuinely, and it broke your heart that you'd made him think he'd actually done something wrong.

''It wasn't you, Bradley, I'm sorry for the way I acted.'' You apologised softly.

Bradley grinned and softly punched your shoulder, ''Besties again?''

You chuckled, ''Never stopped, Bradshaw.''

Things went mostly back to normal after that, with Bradley still spending most of his time with you. There was the odd occasion Michelle would call Bradley and ask to meet up, where he'd disappear for a while, only to reappear at your house the next day as if he never left.

Bradley didn't say much about Michelle around you, obviously sensing your dislike for her, but it became more and more obvious that they were getting closer and closer to doing the deed, when Carole let slip one night that Bradley had a romantic date planned for her.

You wanted to be sick at the thought, but instead you smiled at her and mumbled 'That's nice, hope you two have a good time.' as Bradley blushed a bright shade of crimson, you both going back to the lovely dinner Carole had cooked for you.

''So, what's this date you've told me nothing about?'' you chuckled as Bradley walked you home that evening, the cool air wafting his poofy dark hair over his eyes. He smoothed his hair back and chuckled awkwardly.

''It's nothing, just dinner. A picnic actually, up on the hill.''

''Are you gonna... you know?''

''Gosh I dunno, Birdy, what's with the interrogation?'' he flushed.

You were both quiet for a moment, until you neared your front lawn and looked up at him, ''For what its worth, I don't think she's right for you. I think you can do better, Rooster.''

Bradley was about to speak, when your dad walked outside.

''Ah, I'm glad you're both here. Can you two come inside for a second, we need to talk.'' your dad said sombrely, and you could see your mother in the hallway, her eyebrows creased.

''What is it, dad?'' you asked as you walked towards him.

''Just come inside.''

__________________________

Present:

Your most important things were packed in a suitcase, the rest still in your apartment. You'd signed a year lease so you thought at the very least if things panned out, you could use it as a storage unit until things were set up in California.

The plane landed and your stomach was in knots. You hadn't told Bradley you were coming yet, and as you left the airport and got in a cab, you suddenly wondered if this was such a good idea.

It was too late to turn back when you decided it was, in fact, a very bad idea, because you were already pulling up outside of Bradleys bungalow. You took a deep breath as you paid the driver, and you swallowed down the nerves as you took your suitcase out of the trunk. You thought you were going to vomit as you walked up to the front door and knocked.

You waited for what felt like an agonisingly long time, but when the door finally swung open, you knew you'd made the right decision.

''Birdy?'' Bradley breathed in disbelief, his hands cupping his mouth as his eyes scanned your face.

''Hope that invitation is still valid.'' you joked sheepishly.

Bradley lunged forwards and swept you up in his big burly arms, you dangled helplessly like a doll in an overly early childs hands, and you chuckled as he buried his face in your neck.

When he finally put you down, you grinned up at him, and noticed his Adams Apple bobbing, he was trying not to cry.

''Oh, you big softie.'' you punched his shoulder and he chuckled, rubbing his eyes.

''I just can't believe you're here. I didn't think you'd come.''

''Well, are you gonna make me live out here on the porch or can I come in?'' you teased.

''Right! Come in, I have a room for you.'' Bradley stepped to the side and grabbed your suitcase. He gave you a quick tour of the little bungalow that you thought seemed too small for a man of his stature, and lastly to the bedroom he'd prepared, just in case you came.

''Wow, Brad, I thought you said you didn't think I was coming?'' you breathed. The room was already set up, pink floral duvet covers and fluffy pillows awaited you, a poster of your favourite boy band in school, and the canvas you'd painted with Bradley stood pride and centre on the wall.

''I know, but I hoped.'' he said simply.

You looked up at him and grabbed his arm, pulling him down to your height. You planted a soft kiss on his cheek and then wrapped your arms around his neck.

''Thank you.'' you whispered as you hugged him.

''Anything for my lil Bird.''

It took a while for you to let go, but when you did Bradley left you to unpack and relax for a while.

You walked around your room and smiled, it was simple and mostly empty, but it had a sense of home that your apartment in New York didn't have.

You sat on the bed and breathed in the smell of sea air wafting in through your windows.

Once you'd unpacked and changed into a more summery dress, you met Bradley in the lounge, the sound of a football match roaring through the speakers. Bradley turned the tv off as you walked in, smiling at you.

''California suits you.'' he grinned.

You swished your dress from side to side, ''Yeah, I think so too.'' you winked.

''How do you feel about meeting some of my friends?'' Bradley asked, as he stood and met you at the centre of the room. He stood over you, tauntingly close, the smell of his cologne teasing your nostrils.

''You mean that blond guy, Jake?'' you scrunched up your nose.

''There are others, I promise.'' he chuckled, cupping your face in both of his huge hands. He stared down at you so intently, for a moment you forgot where you were.

''Why are you looking at me like I'm not real?'' you breathed out a soft, awkward laugh.

''Because I'm scared you're not and I'm gonna wake up without you.'' he said earnestly. Your heart thudded against your chest as his face grew closer, his eyes dipping to your lips.

Knock Knock Knock

Bradleys front door suddenly interrupted you, and you both stepped back, looking at each other for a moment, before Bradley went to answer it.

''I may have texted the group that you're here, I think they took that as an invitation to come and meet you.'' he said apologetically. You laughed as he opened the door and 5 people walked in.

''Hello again little lady.'' Jake, the only one you recognised, grinned at you, toothpick between his teeth.

''Hi, Jake.'' you smiled politely back.

Bradley introduced you to the others as they filtered in, each toting various drinks and bags of snacks.

''This is Nat, Bob, Reuben, and Javy. You'll meet Mickey at some point but he's on his honeymoon at the moment.''

You said hello to everyone, and Nat pulled you in for a hug. She reminded you a lot of Gabby, and you suddenly remembered you needed to give her a call later.

''It's so great to finally meet you, Rooster has been talking about you for years!'' Nat laughed.

''Great to meet you too! Years, huh?'' you shot Bradley a quizzical glance, and he just rolled his eyes.

You all filtered out into the little back yard, where Jake and Javy fired up the grill as everyone got to know you, drinks at hand and before long laughter filling the little yard.

Bradley made his way over to where you and Bob were talking, slinking an arm casually over your shoulder as he took a swig of beer. He joined in the conversation and didn't notice as someone new walked out the back door.

Bob noticed first, and tapped Bradley on the shoulder, his eyes shooting over to the new comer to alert Bradley.

''Hi all!'' she chirped, ''The door was open, hope you don't mind if I join?''

Bradley groaned, moving his arm off of your shoulder as he turned to face her.

''Hey, Alice. Sorry I was gonna call you.'' he said awkwardly as he walked over to the leggy blond.

''Alice, this is my best friend, Y/N.'' He said introducing you with a grin.

And then half heartedly and with a sheepish look, he turned to look at you, ''Y/N, this is Alice... my girlfriend.''

__________________________________

Past:

“What do you mean? Why can’t you just do that job here?” You demanded.

You were sitting in your living room across from your parents, Bradley was next to you with his face in his hands.

“There isn’t a position here for me, Y/N. This job is going to sort out so much debt for us-“ your mom nudged your dad and shook her head to stop him from talking.

“Are we having money problems?” You asked softly.

Bradley lifted his head and looked around with furrowed eyebrows.

Your dad sighed, looked at your mom and she took over, “We’re fine, but we are struggling. This job is our only choice. I’m sorry, honey. I know it’s going to be difficult, but Bradley can come visit whenever and you can stay with them during summer vacation.”

Your parents left you shell shocked in your living room with Bradley, who just looked at you with wide, watery eyes.

“Well, I guess that’s it then…” you mumbled.

“No, it can’t be. I haven’t planned for a life without you, what am I supposed to do when you’re gone?” Bradley suddenly exploded, standing to his feet so quickly it startled you.

He began to pace, “I’m gonna… I’m gonna be stuck with Michelle as my only source of company.” He ranted.

“Isn’t that what you want?” You asked softly.

Bradley looked at you like you’d just asked the most stupid question ever, “No! God no! She’s boring, and stuck up, and rude, when I’m with her all I can think about is getting out.”

“Then why are you with her?” You shook your head in exasperation.

“Because… you don’t get it, Birdy. I’m the only one in my grade that hasn’t… you know. I needed someone experienced who I could do it with.” He groaned, sitting back down and putting his hands over his face.

“Brad, why didn’t you tell me that’s the only reason? If you’re gonna lose your… you know, it should be with someone you actually care about.” You said gently, placing a hand on the top of his arm. He lowered his hands and looked at you for a while.

Bradley sighed, “The only person in this whole damn town I care about is you.”

You were about to respond when your brother walked into the room and wailed dramatically.

“Have you heard the news? Our lives are over!”

—————————————

Present:

“Girlfriend? Oh, hi, nice to meet you.” Your voice was small and shaky, and you had to clear your throat.

Bob noticed the awkward tension and was the first one to realise what was happening.

“Oh my god! Bradley talks about you non stop! So nice to finally meet you, girl!” Alice squealed, hugging you.

Bob cleared his throat, “Y/N, do you mind helping me grab some of the food from the kitchen?” Bob asked, looking you in the eye and giving you a signal.

You nodded and excused yourself, and as soon as you were in the kitchen, you let out a long shaky breath, tears prickling your eyes. You had just made a horrible mistake coming here.

“Hey, are you okay?” Bob asked, rubbing your back comfortingly.

“Yep. I just… I need to call someone. Excuse me.” You rushed off to your bedroom and closed the door, pressing your back up against it as you breathed through the sudden panic.

You found your phone on the nightstand and dialled Gabby’s number.

As soon as she answered, you began to sob uncontrollably.

“Y/N! What’s going on, can you breathe for me please?” She called over the phone.

You attempted to pull in a few short breaths until you were calm enough to speak.

“I’m such an idiot!” You cried.

“Why? What’s happening? You scared me when you left this morning.”

“I… I went to California. Bradley asked me to, so I did, I thought he wanted me here because he felt the same.” You sniffled.

There was a brief silence on the other end, “He doesn’t?” She sounded surprised.

“He has a girlfriend, Gabs, one he never told me about.”

“Ohhh, fuck. Have you met her?”

“Yeah, just now. I was so blindsided I must have come across as rude. I can’t believe I thought Bradley and I had any future, or that he loved me the way I love him. I’ve loved him for what feels like my whole life, Gabs, when am I going to realise I can’t have him?” You wept.

Suddenly the door creaked, and you turned around suddenly to face Bradley, who stood in the doorway with his mouth slightly ajar and his eyebrows furrowed, blinking rapidly as tears threatened to spill over.

“Oh my god.” You whispered. “Gabby I have to go.” You hung up and dropped your phone on the bed.

“Brad-“

He held up a hand to shush you, and edged into the room, closing the door behind him.

“Don’t speak.” He said as he crossed the room. He stood over you and a large hand came up to thread through your hair and cup your cheek.

A tear dropped down your face as you looked up at him, your lip quivering.

“Did you mean what you just said?” Bradley whispered, closing his eyes as his forehead came to rest against yours, your lips inches apart, his warm breath on your skin.

“Yes.” you croaked out. And that’s all you needed to say, because Bradley’s lips came crashing down on yours, taking your breath away. The room spun as your eyes widened, and then gradually fluttered shut.

His other hand cradled the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss, moaning into your lips.

The tears fell faster now as your heart felt as if it was exploding, the fireworks inside you turning your skin alight. You grabbed a fistful of Bradley’s shirt, holding on for dear life as the feeling you’d waited decades for was finally washing over you, better than you'd ever imagined, buckling your knees from underneath you.

Bradley’s hand moved from the back of your head to your lower back and he pulled you into him, holding you up, and still it wasn’t enough, you wanted more, desperate for more, hungry for more, but your conscious suddenly rocked through you like a bolt of lightning and you pushed against Bradley’s chest. You broke away from him with a gasp as you fought for breath. Your hand moved up to your chest to soothe the thrumming inside as you panted.

Bradley looked at you with a confused, longing expression, fighting for his own breath.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Bradley demanded, his face flushed and lips beautifully swollen.

You bit your lip and shook your head before you breathed a laugh, “Would it have made a difference?”

“Yes, Birdy, it would have made all the difference.” He nodded, hands on his hips as he contemplated your words.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend before I flew out here?” You asked him sadly.

“I… I didn’t think it mattered. I didn’t know you felt that way.” He looked at his feet.

You shook your head again as you sighed, “I’ve loved you since that stupid moustache began to grow, Brad. In fact I think I loved you the second you saved me on my first day of school.” You breathed.

Bradley’s eyes shot up to meet yours, his bottom lip wobbled as he nodded, “Yeah, that’s about the same time I fell in love with you, too, Birdy.”

You opened your mouth to speak but a sharp knock rasped against your bedroom door and you jumped. The door opened and Bob poked his head through.

“Uhm… you guys should probably come outside.”

—————————————

-- Part 6 Here --

Taglist now open 💛 please let me know if you'd like to be added!

@dizzybee03

@lucyjenniferx

#miles teller x reader #miles teller #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun rooster #rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #top gun fandom #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun fic #top gun maverick fanfiction #romance

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celtic-crossbow · 7 months

Text

Series Masterlist

*Click here to be added to taglists.

Chapter 7

Warnings: Reader’s poor mental health

You awoke to raised voices but found yourself alone, still in Daryl’s space. Wiping your eyes, you attempted to fight through the fog of sleep to hear what was happening somewhere in the cellblock. One of the voices was unmistakably Daryl. You could hear the anger but not the words. The second voice was also raised but not in anger. Feminine. Carol?

“I’ll handle it! Go cool off before you pull something!”

Definitely Carol, her voice closer and words decipherable. You could hear her boots on the stairs just before her silver hair came into view. Well, at least you knew what they had been yelling about. Her stony expression softened over immediately when she raised her head to find you awake.

“Good morning! How are you feeling?”

You eyed her suspiciously, fingers twisting and tugging at the blanket. You still weren’t sure about who to trust, what to believe. You couldn’t even trust Daryl, but why should you really? He purchased you. Even with his kind eyes and gentle touch, he was still a man. And men at the end of the world only wanted you for one thing. Still, you continued to find you wanted to trust him.

“Hey.” Your eyes focused again on Carol, a little closer than she had been but now sitting on the floor, a bowl in her hands that you hadn’t noticed until then. “Where’d you go just now? You were a million miles away.” Your knees were dragged up against your chest, assuming the familiar position. You said nothing but watched the woman carefully. Her finger was tapping against her own knee as she studied you. “Let’s try a different approach, hmm?” She smiled at you and relaxed her posture.

The bowl was gently slid across the floor, stopping just in front of you. It looked like oatmeal, with some berries of some sort on top.

“Not a lot of fresh fruits available right now. Daryl brings in berries that are safe for us to eat when he goes out to hunt. Those are a little bitter but they make the plain oatmeal taste more like…well, something.”

You waited for a moment, eyes flickering back and forth between the offered food and the woman in front of you. You were hungry. Famished, actually. But she wasn’t Daryl. Could she even give you permission to eat?

“What, um… what do you want me to do for it?”

“Nothing. You don’t have to do anything special for your portion of the meals here. You may have chores later but not until you’re settled in and feel at least a little safer, okay?”

“Did S—um, I mean, did he say I could eat?”

“Who? Daryl?” Her brow creased in confusion. “Why would—oh.” When understanding once again soothed her expression, that gentle smile she seemed to always present you was back. “I can promise you that Daryl will always want you to eat what is offered to you here. Always.”

You remained unconvinced.

“If he or anyone else ever says you can’t eat, they’ll have to personally answer to me.”

Your stomach chose that moment to sound off its displeasure at being left empty. With trembling fingers, you began to reach for the bowl, noting that Carol’s eyes remained on your face. The moment your fingertips brushed the edge, you snatched up the bowl and hid it between your knees and your body as if she would attempt to take it back.

It was just plain, unsweetened oats, but the woman had been right. The berries did at least provide some flavor. Even if it didn’t, you were too hungry to care. Carol stayed but had averted her gaze to somewhere past the railing.

“Why, um…why do you get to wear regular clothes?”

She seemed to contemplate your question before countering with one of her own. “Can you explain why you would ask that? Just so I understand. There is no consequence for asking questions.”

No consequence? Hell, you shouldn’t be speaking, let alone questioning. “Do you dance? Or are you one of the special ones that the men get to take in the back?” There was the briefest expression of disgust, but you caught it, even if she was quick to bury it.

“The women here are not property. We are free and independent, equal with the men. I mean, I do need the occasional jar opened but otherwise, we do our part and live as we please.”

“The men don’t—Sir, I mean, Daryl doesn’t fuck you?”

Her eyes opened so wide that you thought they might evacuate her skull. “Oh god, no! That’d be… no, just no.” Carol eased a little closer and sat right back down, maintaining a comfortable distance between the two of you. “I know what Daryl took you out of. I can’t even begin to imagine the things that happened to you there. But here? These people? You don’t have to worry. No one is going to touch you without your consent. No one is expecting you to do anything like you were forced to do before. The men here will protect you, not hurt you.”

You narrowed your eyes skeptically while taking another small bite.

“I know it will take some time to trust again, but it will come.” She watched you take the last bite, eyes following your trembling hand as you placed the bowl onto the floor beside you. “I’ll be with you as often as I can. You’re welcome to join me throughout the day.”

You didn’t answer, choosing to fiddle with the buttons on Daryl’s shirt instead.

“You can sleep in my cell if you’d feel safer but Y/N,” she paused and waited until you finally met her gaze, “you need to give Daryl some space.”

“I…I, um… he…”

“I know what he did for you, but Daryl has his own demons. You don’t belong to him. You don’t belong to anyone.” How that woman could have such a conversation and remain so calm was beyond you. “You don’t have to accept that now. I know it can be hard to unlearn things that were beaten into you. I just ask that you try. That’s all. Just try. And if you forget, I’ll be here to remind you.” That smile again.

You nodded, finding comfort in Carol’s gentle presence. You could feel the tendrils of fear receding into the dark crevices of your fractured mind. You still didn’t understand and you were still afraid, but you no longer felt paralyzed.

“If I… I’d like to stay with you.” You shrank back a little, as if accepting what she offered would lead to some horrific punishment. “Please.”

“Of course.” Carol answered softly. She climbed to her feet and then held out her hand for you. “Why don’t you just stay with me today too, hmm? I’ll show you around and then we’ll fix things up on the cell later. Sound good?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Her hand was rough in places, calloused from years of work. A story she hadn’t shared with you yet but you found you were eager to hear it.

Carol quickly tutted you with a laugh. “None of that. Call me Carol. Can I call you Y/N?” You gave her a small smile even as your shoulders drew up with anxiety at having offended her. She must have noticed because she turned to face you and requested you take a deep breath. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Everything is fine. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

And for the first time in a very, very long time, you actually felt it.

Daryl observed you finally vacating his space, your hand in Carol’s as the two of you exited the prison. Though your apprehension was still quite perceivable, you were making an effort and that was truly all he could ask for at this point. He hadn’t been angry at finding you occupying his area. He was more overwhelmed by the grand propensity of helplessness as you continued to futilely seek comfort from him when he had none to offer you.

It was better for you to be inducted into a normal way of life within the world as it was then. You had to learn to live again, to be your own person. There was no one better to help you than Carol.

No longer tired, Daryl hefted his crossbow onto his shoulder and headed outside. The people could always use fresh meat, so it was only logical that he use the time to hunt.

He could only hope that you would leave his thoughts long enough to get the job done safely.

Taglist:

@royaltysuite @thegeorgiahuntsman @livingdeadblondequeen @deansapplepie @feral4daryl @walker-bait-1973 @lazyneonrabbitt @bizquake @littlelovingideas @ririi-3 @ankhmutes @blackvelveteen1339 @sokkasimp101 @lehhos @loganlostitall

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frenziedslashers · 1 year

Text

Open Up Your Heart For Me;;

Warnings: canon typical violence, Daryl gets a little mean but he apologizes, Shane is a creep, that one prison guy is a creep, Daryl saves you though

Summary: Daryl found you back when this all started and he took a liking for you from the beginning. When Rick comes back into the picture, though. Shane gets a little desperate and tries to seduce you, but you aren't interested one bit. Daryl keeps you close, and makes sure you're safe. Later on at the farm he's losing it over Sophia and you're there to comfort him. He understands that you're the person that he wants to survive for. It isn't until the prison that he finally opens up and lets you in, though.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

REQUEST INFO || TWD MASTERLIST

Shane had been bugging you a lot more than either you or Daryl cared for since Lori's husband made it back into the picture. He had never been close with you, but since you were the only conveniently attractive person in the group and he assumed wasn't spoken for. He was following you around like a dog in heat. It made Daryl sick, but he kept his distance anytime he saw it. He knew you could take care of yourself, and the both of you weren't really even in an official relationship. Merle would say that the two of you were, and Carol would ask you about Daryl, but each of you denied it. It wasn't like that. Sure, there were feelings, but neither of you would admit to them. Not now anyways, not when neither of you knew how to even begin to skim the surface of those feelings. Feelings that Daryl didn't even know he could feel for another person.

You had always been so sweet with him. Since the moment that he found you and laid eyes on you, you were treating him with this kindness that he never knew existed. Your voice was soft, and so were your eyes. God, he swore he could look into your eyes forever. Watch the way the corners of them creased when you smiled at him from across the camp. He was always quick to look away when you caught him staring, though. Bashful eyes darting to the ground or back to whatever he was working on.

He always hated the way his brother would smirk anytime he saw the way Daryl looked at you. "Ya know, starin' ain't gon' get ya laid." Merle would quip, and it would piss Daryl off to no end.

It wasn't sex that he wanted. He just wanted you to be with him. To be by his side and for him to be the one who kept you out of harm's way. Not for you to be with someone like Shane Walsh. Who stared at you with this look that made Daryl want to scoop his eyes out with his knife. He had no right looking at you that way, no one did.

He promised himself that he wouldn't get involved with whatever it was Shane was trying to get out of you. Daryl could tell that you had no interest in the man. He swore that he would have given up by now, but Shane was stubborn. Much to Daryl's disapproval.

He was following you. Shane had watched you head into the woods so he took it as an opportunity to sneak up on you. Maybe convince you that he was good enough for you, but little did Shane know. You were meeting Daryl out there. Out in woods that Daryl knew like the back of his head, even if they weren't the ones that he grew up in.

"The hell are ya doin'?" Daryl snapped, holding his crossbow up before Shane could get any closer to you. You turned when you heard his voice, a frown settling on your lips when you thought he was snarling at you. When you saw Shane a panic settled within you that had your stomach turning with nausea.

"Shane, what are you doing?" You second Daryls' question. Worried eyes traced over the man's face. Why the hell was he following you out here?

His chuckle made Daryl want to end it all. He had half an urge to pull the trigger of his bow and watch an arrow lodge into the base of his skull, but he didn't do that. He just waited, growing more and more impatient by the minute. "I was just seein' what they was doin' out here all alone. Jus' worried. I assume yer out here for that reason too?" Shane spoke, turning to look over his shoulder at Daryl as he asked the question. Daryl scoffed, "No, they're meetin' me out here. Been teachin' them how to use my bow and how to fight 'cause they don't feel safe." Daryl's voice was sour, yet the way he'd glance over at you here and there made you feel safe. Like you knew he wouldn't let anything happen to you. He never would, and you knew that.

Shane looked at you with this concerned look in his eye, and this time you were the one to scowl. "Is someone makin' ya uneasy?" He asked, and you shifted from foot to foot. Raising your arms to cross them over your chest. "Yeah, it's you, ya dipshit," Daryl snapped, and Shane shook his head.

"The hell did I do?" Shane asked in defense. "You never leave me alone! You're always bugging me, and making gross remarks! Hell, you followed me out here and didn't say anything until, well. I didn't even know you were behind me until Daryl said something! You followed me clear out here without saying a word. What the hell were you going to do to me out here?" You asked, and the tears that brimmed your eyes made Daryl's face soften as he looked at you.

He wanted to pull you close, but he couldn't. Not yet, anyway. You were both dealing with Shane. His chest tightened at the fact that you were in near tears because you were scared. His eyes bored into Shane's skull again with flaring nostrils.

When Shane opened his mouth to speak, he closed it again with a glare. "Whatever, ain't gonna catch me tryna be nice again," he snarled and Daryl glared. "Good, they don't need ya anyways," he snarled, and Shane stormed off back to camp.

"Hope he gets bit," Daryl muttered under his breath, and you gasped. You walked up and shoved his shoulder with a small smile. Daryl looked over at you with furrowed brows. "What?" He asked, and you shook your head, smile only widening as he acted completely oblivious to what he just said out loud.

"Daryl Dixon, you can't just say that about people." You told him, and he sighed. Placing his bow back over his shoulder as he turned to face you. "Well, maybe people shouldn' try and hurt ya." He told you, his voice soft, and you swear he's never said anything so nice towards you.

You smiled gently up at him, this glint in your eyes that he swore made them sparkle, "Thank you," he hummed in response, "I mean it, Daryl," you told him when you noticed how he looked to the side. Like he didn't deserve the gratitude. He'd do anything to keep you safe. You didn't have to thank him for it. His eyes were locked with yours again when your hands came to rest on his shoulders. "I mean it, you goober," you told him with a lopsided grin, and he swears he's never seen anything cuter.

Daryl couldn't help but roll his eyes with a sigh at the nickname, but he didn't dare pull away. Not yet, not ever. "Why d'ya call me that?" He asked, his voice sounding a lot more curious than he would have liked to tell. "Cause, you're a goober," He scrunched his nose with furrowed brows. "I ain't even know what a 'goober' is," He added, and you chuckled, your hands sliding down to rest on his chest that made him take in a sharp breath.

He felt his body relax under your touch, but it wasn't long before he felt his muscles tense again when you both fell quiet. His eyes danced in yours and he felt so... Normal. As if for once, he was experiencing a situation that normal people experienced. Something sweet and innocent.

He cleared his throat after a moment though. Shrugging off your touch before motioning for you to follow him with his head. Pulling his compact bow back into his hands. "Come on, best work soon before the sun gets too low." He muttered, and you nodded.

Daryl didn't know how you did it. You were strong throughout everything you did, mentally and physically, yet you were always so sweet and kind. Especially towards him. You looked at him with these eyes that had his heart thumping in his ears. Pounding away like a drum that he just could not silence. You were something else to the man that watched as you cheered after finally making the target he set up for you. The arrow speared the box right where you wanted it to. His lips tugged up into a faint curl at your shouts and cheers, you were adorable. He'd never admit that he thought that, though. Not now, anyways.

When you came prancing over to him with that compact bow in your arms he had to purse his lips to hide the smile that threatened to bare. "Ya did good," he praised, and that only made you smile more. "Really?" "Yeah, ya might have a better aim than me someday," he quipped and you snickered back. Shoving his shoulder while handing the bow back.

He watched as you looked up at the canopy of trees above the both of you. The way your skin seemed to glow with the rays of sun that kissed your skin. You were like an angel to him. He only wished he could tell you that.

"Think we should head back," you murmured and he swore you looked and even sounded a little disappointed at your words. "Yeah?" He asked, and you nodded. "Yeah, it's getting late." You added, and he noticed the sigh you let out while you dipped your head down to watch your feet. You scuffed your foot against the ground and he frowned a little.

"We can come back out tomorrow, this ain't gotta be a one-time deal." He told you with a small tilt of his head. You looked back up with hopeful eyes and that damned smile that made his heart leap. "Really?" He nodded, "'Course." He told you, and the both of you fell silent once more. Staring at each other with adoring eyes before he motioned back for the camp. His own eyes darted up to look at the orange glow of the sky. "Come on, we gotta get back," and you nodded, trailing beside the hunter as you both made your way back to the camp.

You felt so hungry as you strolled beside the man. Your stomach cramping a little at the lack of food, and Daryl noticed the look on your face. He had no idea what it meant, but he could tell something was going on. He could always tell when something was going on with you.

"What's wrong?" He asked, and you looked up.

You almost couldn't tear your eyes away from him. The way the sun cast over his sun-kissed skin. His piercing blue eyes that you swear locked you in a trance anytime you looked up at them. "I'm just hungry," you mumbled, before tearing your eyes from him to look back forward, and he nodded. He'd keep that noted for when you both made it back to camp. He was sure everyone had already eaten, but he wouldn't deal with you going hungry.

When you both made it back, he was right, too. Everyone had eaten and they were all doing their own things. Shane was in the corner, staring at each of you the moment you both walked into view. Daryl caught his gaze and glared. He wasn't about to let some asshole hurt you all because he wanted some ass. You were worth more than that, you deserved more than just that.

Daryl stayed close to you. Tapping your shoulder in order to get your attention. Watching as you turned your head to look over at him. "What's up?" You asked, and he motioned to the fire. "Could warm ya up some stew," he offered, referring to the leftover vegetable stew from earlier at lunch, and you smiled so sweetly up at the man. You swore he was the kindest man to ever grace the earth, even if he was so terribly reserved and quiet.

"I'd like that," you spoke, and he nodded before heading for the fire and you followed close behind him.

He felt his breath hitch when you sat a little too close to him. It wasn't that he minded, and he didn't dare move away from you after he got the fire started up again and the food on the wire to heat up. The both of you were quiet, and Daryl had such a love-hate relationship with the silence. He wanted to hear your voice. To know what was going on in that head of yours, but he also couldn't be bothered to break the silence. It was nice being able to sit beside you when you seemed so content and relaxed. Like you didn't care that neither of you said anything while you both stared at the flames that danced before you both.

When you shuddered beside him, he looked over with worried eyes. "Ya good?" he blurted, and you could hear the worry that dripped from his words. You nodded with a chuckle. "Just a little cold. Dreading sleeping alone tonight," you admitted, and he noticed how you peaked behind the both of you to where Shane was sitting earlier. The way you wrung your hands out of anxiety. His jaw clenched at just the thought of you being scared about sleeping alone, and before he could think, he was speaking. "Ya could sleep in my tent. I don' mind. Better than sleepin' alone, if ya wan' to." He told you, and your eyes met his once again. He was always so gentle with his words, and so private with his life. You knew that what he was offering was genuine, and from the look in his eyes. He had nothing but the purest intentions. You didn't have to look at him to know he was just offering to keep you company. He was a good man, and you knew that.

You smiled, ducking your head down again to look at your hands, and he chewed on the pillow of his bottom lip. He was terrified that he might have said the wrong thing. Bringing his thumb up to his lips to chew on his nail while he waited anxiously for your reply. "I couldn't, Daryl," his brows furrowed, demanding a further explanation. "I wouldn't want to invade your space," you told him, and he shook his head. "Ain't invadin' it if I offered it to ya." His voice was a little lower this time. Soft and almost bashful. You looked back up to meet his gaze, and you both stared for a moment. Before he finally pulled his eyes from you to look at the food. Reaching with the towel that was sitting on a stump near the fire to grab the container.

Daryl offered up the food with a grunt, and you took it with a soft 'thank you.'

Daryl wasn't going to eat, but when you would offer him some of your food, he took it. Only because of the pout at your lip and that look in your eyes that he just couldn't say no to. Taking the spoon from your hand to take a few bites before handing it back. His stomach flipped at the sight of your smile when he ate with you. If all he had to do to get you to smile was eat with you, he'd definitely be doing it more often.

Once that bit of food was gone and you were both content and as full as you were each going to get. He was leading you back to his tent. His body was close, but he didn't touch you. Nor did you touch him. No matter how much you each wanted to grab one another's hand, you each assumed the other would be disgusted by the behavior.

Daryl unzipped the tent and allowed you to climb in, following after you with a grunt. Plopping himself onto the blankets that he had scattered about the tent. "Did I need'a grab yer blankets?" He asked, and you nodded "I can go," but before you could even finish he was backing out of the tent. Heading for your tent across the camp. Unzipping it while scooping the fabric up into his arms. Closing it before returning to you inside his own. Tossing them on the floor of the living space before he crawled inside again.

It was a three-person tent, and with how broad-shouldered Daryl was, you were certain it'd be super close-quartered. You were right. You were each practically laid right next to one another after you both got your sleeping areas arranged. Daryl took the spot closest to the entrance, and you couldn't help but wonder if he did that as a way to keep you safe. Smiling faintly at the idea while shifting in the blankets that you had snug around you. Your body faced the hunter while he lay on his back. "Night, Dar'," you yawned, allowing your eyes to fall shut, and he whispered a soft goodnight in response.

Daryl swore he hadn't slept that well in ages. Sure, you weren't touching him, nor was he touching you. Anytime you'd roll too close to him he'd gently push you away. He didn't want you to wake up and regret taking up the offer of sleeping in the same tent as him, but he still slept so well. He felt relaxed, and having you near him was the best feeling in the world. Now he knew you were safe as you slept, without wondering while you were clear across the camp from him. Here with you by his side he felt the happiest he had in ages, and he didn't want you to get too far from him again.

----

At The Greene Farm, it was t same way. After that night you both seemed to enjoy the company so much that you both just agreed to sleep in the tent even after you all had to flee the Quarry.

Slowly, but surely, Daryl worked up the confidence to actually hold you in his arms when you did roll against him. Some nights he couldn't take it. You'd rub up against him and he'd feel a familiar tightness in his pants that made him blush. He'd push you away and turn his back to you. Hoping and praying that his hard-on wouldn't haunt him for much longer. Doing everything in his power to think of anything besides how good you feel pressed against him. Some nights he has to leave the tent and walk a bit to get his mind off you before returning back to your shared quarters.

A week into staying with the family that so graciously took you all in after the incident with Carl. Carol was asking you questions. "So, you and Daryl?" She'd ask with a smirk while you helped her hang clothes and you'd feel your skin burn. "What about us?" You'd play dumb, but she'd only give you a knowing smirk while your hands grew clammy.

"Oh come on, you've been sleeping in the same tent. He's been following you around like a lost puppy since he found you, I'm shocked he isn't here now." She spoke, looking around both of you to ensure he wasn't lingering and watching you. "Is something going on between you two?" She asked, and you wet your lips with a sigh. "I uh... I don't know, actually." You'd mutter, and she pursed her lips with a sigh. "Well, I know he likes you. He doesn't act that way with anyone else. He cares, I see it." She sighed, staring off with a soft smile. "You're lucky to have a guy like him Carin' about ya." You nodded with a soft chuckle. "Yeah, just wished he wasn't so awkward. I try and cuddle with him at night, and sometimes he pushes me away and I have to pretend to still be asleep. Or I get too close while we're sitting and he shifts away... He's so hard to read sometimes." Carol giggled at your words.

It was cute, really, and she loved hearing all about it. "He's just shy, just gotta grab his hand and tell him how it is. It's the only way he'd get it without worrying about scaring you." You nodded, maybe she was right.

You still didn't do that though. Every time you wanted to grab him and pull him in for a kiss, or a hug, or just tell him how it was. You got hit with this wave of dread and anxiety that he didn't feel the same. That maybe you were just someone he chose to protect because he happened to stumble upon you all those months ago. Plus, anytime you'd push those bad thoughts away and the courage to ask him would surge through you, something would seem to happen.

The one day you thought you'd finally tell him was the day that Glenn came up to all of you with the news. So you dropped Daryl's hand and told him it could wait while the both of you exit your tent. He felt his heart leaping into his throat at just the fact you grabbed his hand. He didn't want you to let go, and he hated Glenn for interrupting the moment between you both, but he hated the news Glenn brought even more. The news of Walkers that were being stored in the barn, and Daryl's heart raced at the thought.

So many questions ran through his head as to why they were in there. Was it because they got trapped? Was it purposeful? Was it to feed you all to them? The possibilities were endless; Daryl didn't like any of them.

You tried to stop Daryl, but he was on a war path with Shane, and you hated that he was following him. You agreed with Dale that it was none of your guys' business. "We're lucky we're even here," you'd tell Daryl to try and get him to stop and think about what he was doing. "We're lucky they ain't feedin' us to 'em!" Daryl hissed at you, and he hated the way you flinched back. The look you gave him made his heart clench, but he was damn too stubborn to say anything to comfort you and assure you that he didn't mean his harsh tone. He only pushed past you to head for that barn where they were met with Rick bringing one of those things back with Hershel.

A fight broke out, but you stayed back. Even with Daryl in the midst of it, you stayed beside Carol. Holding your arms across your chest as you watched Shane run up to the lock with bolt cutters. You didn't know how to react, and you couldn't. This all felt unreal and you could sense the hurt within the family. Maggie held Beth while they both cried out. Hershel begged Shane and the others to stop what they were doing.

"They're people!"

"They're dead!"

If it weren't for Carols' scream you would have turned and walked away from the scene, but when she shouted and cried, your eyes looked beyond the crowd to see the little girl that drug her feet out from that barn.

"Sophia!" She screamed and your eyes brimmed with tears. Your heart tightened as you stared at the little girl you grew so fond of. She was so sweet and so innocent. A hand raced to your mouth, but it was quick to drop and reach out for Carol. Holding her back as she tried to run after the girl that snarled and groaned.

"My baby! That's my baby! Let me go, please!" She cried out, trying her best to reach out for the girl, but finally giving up against you. "That's my baby, please," she repeated, and you looked over your shoulder to Daryl with a sympathetic glance. He did what he had to do.

After that, nothing felt the same between the two of you. You wanted to be close to him, but he was pulling away from everyone and you could tell. He was cold and hanging out alone more and more, but you wouldn't allow him to push you away. You never would, and he hated it. he hated that you were stubborn and that for some reason you seemed to care about him. He hated that he was stubborn and that he couldn't communicate with you the way he wanted to. Anytime you approached him he would scream and shout, telling you to leave him alone, and you would for a little while, but you were always right back when he was calmed down.

"It wasn't your fault, Daryl," you'd tell him, and he'd scoff. "Ain't never said it was," you frowned with a sigh. Sitting beside him on the ground. "But you think it." He didn't answer, he only turned away from you and you sighed. "I'm not giving up on you, Daryl Dixon," you spoke, and he glanced at you for a moment. "Yeah? Well, ya should." He sneered, and you scrunched your nose with distaste. "You ever tell me what to do again Daryl and I swear." You sighed, and he shook his head.

His knees were brought up to his chest. Picking at the skin around his fingernails with a dry laugh. "What, ya gon' beat me?" He asked, and he had this sourness to his voice that made your head jerk in his direction.

You were at a loss for words when he said this to you, and he regretted that he even opened his big mouth. You were briefly aware of the abuse that he went through, but the fact he would even joke about you doing such a thing to him made your stomach turn with disgust.

"Why would you even say such a thing?" You asked, and he glanced over at you with pursed lips. "'S jus' a joke," he sneered, and you shook your head, turning in your seat to face him more. "Daryl," you snapped, and he kept his gaze down. Too scared to meet your eyes. "Daryl, look at me," you said a little more stern. Yet, your voice was still mellow with him. You showed that you cared with your tone, and he only looked up when you touched his shoulder. His eyes going to your hand.It made his heart race and this unfamiliar tingle shot through his body. Then his eyes were on yours. Staring.

"I would never hurt you," you told him, and he believed you. He knew you would never even dream of hurting him, but he couldn't help the idea that everyone he knew would hurt him in one way or another. "I know," he spoke, and you nodded. "Are you sure? Because I don't want you even joking that I would hurt you," you spoke, and your voice was so gentle and soft again. He hated how kind you were to him, sometimes.

You tested the waters, reaching up to brush some of the hair from his forehead, and his eyes fluttered shut for a second at your touch. "'M sure," he mumbled, and you smiled, caressing the side of his face. His eyes stared up at you as you kneeled beside him. He had this urge to pull you into his lap and kiss you. A kiss that he had wanted since before you started sleeping in his tent with him, but he didn't. He just turned his head from you and started standing to his feet. "Come on, 's gettin' late." He murmured, and he hated himself for not pressing his lips against yours.

He pulled you to your feet, though. Offering his hand for you which you gladly took, and when you didn't let go. He didn't pull away. He let you hold his hand while walking you back to the tents. He'd never understand how or why you were so patient with him. "I ain't ever gon' hurt ya either, ya know that? 'M sorry for being' an ass." Daryl spoke, and you smiled. Giving his hand a light squeeze. "I know, Daryl. I forgive you." You told him, and he nodded, thankful that you trusted him.

Once back to camp though, he didn't even bother to look at anyone. He was too mad at Shane and the others for what they drug them into. He was mad at Glenn, Dale, and Rick for not telling any of you guys sooner. He was mad at the Greenes for hiding such a thing. Most of all, he was ashamed. He couldn't look Carol in the eyes without feeling like he failed her. He promised her that he would find her little girl. He just didn't think she would be found like this. Grey, glossed-over eyes and skin that was rotting away. That was no way for a mother to find her daughter.

He pulled you closer, his hand tightening around yours while he pulled you into that tent that you both still shared. You could feel the panic surging through his body and you were quick to pull the door of the tent closed before his hands were on your waist. The action was far from what you were expecting, but you allowed him to pull you close. His breathing was ragged, and from the brief glance you saw of his eyes. You could tell he was panicking.

Your touch was enough to ease him for a little while. Your hands caressed the back of his head while he buried his face into your chest. A soft cry slipped past his lips, and it made your heartstrings tug while you pulled him a little closer and he did the same to you.

"Daryl, it's okay, I'm here, just lay down." You told him, and he nodded. The man laying on his back while he pulled you on top of himself. The weight of your body on him made him feel grounded. Like maybe he was safe and everything was alright. You always made him feel like maybe one day the world would be sane again.

"Daryl, you did everything you could," you told him, rubbing soft circles on his chest with your hand. His eyes were clenched shut, and all he could do was nod while you assured him. "You were so strong, stronger than any of us going out there. Carol may not show it, but she does appreciate your efforts. She's just grieving." "Because I didn't find her little girl sooner," He rasped, and you frowned.

He became too aware of the fact that you were on top of him when you shifted so you could sit properly on his stomach. His hands resting beside himself on the ground, too scared that if he'd touch you you'd disappear. "Daryl," you said his name so sweetly. He was practically a puddle beneath you when you reached out to cup the sides of his face with your hands. "You did everything you could. You looked out for that little girl more than her daddy ever did. That, Daryl, is something none of us will ever forget." You told him.

His eyes fluttered shut once more when you leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead, and then one on each cheek. A shaky breath left his nostrils. He never thought he would ever be in this position. Your body weighing him down while you whispered such sweet things to him. Sweet things that were meant for him and only him. It made his heart swell with emotions that he swore he never experienced before. The warmth you always gave him was damn near overwhelming, but he loved it. He loved every word of praise you gave him and he ate up all the affection you showered him with like it was candy. Every kind thing you said to him, Daryl never forgot it.

"Do you understand me, Goober?" You asked with that soft smile, and he looked up to meet your gaze. His eyes softened as they met yours. "Yeah, I understand, goofball," he replied, causing the both of you to snicker lightly before you laid down on him again. He expected you to roll off and go back to where you always laid beside him, but he was mistaken. His hands stayed stiffly beside him until you reached down to grab them and pull them around you. He had to say, he liked the feeling of you on top of him while he held you close.

"Night, Daryl," you cooed, pressing a kiss to his chest that had him melting beneath you. All he could do was grunt in response. His arms tightened a little around you before he felt your body relax into his. Practically molding into one.

It took him a while longer to fall asleep that night. All he could think of was how lucky he was to have met you. In a way, he thanked the apocalypse for even happening. Without it, he would have never met you.

-----

Months went by. Nearly a full year and Daryl was still fighting with these feelings that the had for you. They were so pent up and it was killing him. You each shared a cell in the prison. You on the top bunk and he on the bottom bunk so if anything happened he'd be the first to be able to react. Half the nights you didn't even sleep up there. You were always on that bottom bunk. His arms wrapped snugly around your waist while his face was buried in the nape of your neck.

He'd wake up every morning next to you and he'd kiss your forehead when he thought you were still asleep, but you were always awake the moment he started stirring beside you. It was the apocalypse, you had to be a light sleeper anymore. "Mornin," you'd mumble only when he'd start climbing out of bed, and he would smile hearing your voice. Greeting you with a soft chuckle at how groggy you always looked in the mornings. "'Morning," he'd gruff, and you'd smile in return. Tired and lazy, but he still loved that damn smile of yours.

It was like you were both already together without saying anything. An unspoken love between you each. You'd hold each other's hands as you walked side by side. He'd let you hug him, and he'd hold you when you were cold or upset. He'd let you hold him when he needed comfort. Then the glances. The lingering looks when you were both doing something else and you'd spot each other in the same room. Soft smiles and little waves. it drove him mad, and he just wished he could convince himself that you wouldn't run away if he pulled you in for a kiss.

It took another man talking to you for him to finally realize that he needed to act now. One of the prisoners they found, he didn't know his name. Didn't care to know it either. He was smirking at you and looking you over like you were a piece of candy. It was Shane all over again, but this guy was worse. Daryl could tell he was in Prison for a reason, and when he reached out to try and touch you. The hunter was quick to react.

His hand reached out to grab the other man. Twisting with such force that had him screaming and shouting. He hit Daryl with his other hand to try and break free, but it was no use. Nothing could get him to let go.

"I ever catch ya touchin' 'em again. So much as lookin' at 'em. I'm breakin' your hand, one fuckin' finger at a time, and then I'm feedin' ya each joint like the dog ya are," He roared. Grabbing the man's thumb and yanking it back until it snapped. A snap that made everyone flinch with a cringe.

The bone was broken, and Daryl knew what he did. Watching as the other man crumbled. Daryl shoved him away with a look that could kill. He didn't care that he broke that man's thumb, if anything he should feel lucky it was just his thumb he broke. Daryl could have done so much more to him. Snapped all five of his fingers off. Broke his arm, and kicked his knee in. Broke his legs and threw him out for the walkers. The possibilities were endless and each and every one of those ideas was flashing behind his piercing blue eyes.

"You broke my fucking thumb!" The man screamed, and Daryl didn't react, he just glared. "Keep your fuckin' whore!" He shouted and Daryl was stomping his way again. Both Rick and Glenn had to grab at his arms to pull him away from the man. "Don't ya talk about 'em like that!" Daryl screamed, thrashing around in the other two men's arms to try and break free.

It took you coming over, reaching up to grab the sides of his face for him to finally calm down. "Daryl, Dar', hun, look at me," you called out, his nostrils still flaring out of anger, but he drug his eyes away from the man to look at you. Your eyes that were full of worry - but it wasn't for anyone else but him. It made him feel so special, like all you ever cared about was him. A man who believed he deserved no such thing.

"I couldn' let him hurt ya," he told you, and you nodded. You smiled up at him, and his hands found purchase at your hips while Rick dragged the guy away to give him a talking of his own. "I know, and I'm lucky to have you guarding me," you told him, leaning up to press your lips to his cheek, and his hands squeezed at your side. "My guardian angel," you cooed.

His breath came out rigid before his eyes fell shut. The few times you kissed his cheek he always reacted so bashfully and shy, but right now it felt so different. Like he needed to act, and act fast. Before the moment that he could finally express how he felt was gone, and like you read his mind. You were prying his hands off your hips so you could take one in your own and lead him back to your shared cell.

You felt his hand squeeze yours, and his gaze that was glued to the back of your head. "Come on, let's go lay down," you spoke, and your voice was so honey-sweet and hypnotizing that you could tell him to climb to the top of the prison and jump and he would. He wanted to lay down and bury his face into you. He wanted to forget about all the worries he ever had or experienced and just be surrounded by you. Your voice, your touch, your scent. So, once in that cell block. He was letting you pull him onto that small cot. The both of you laying on your sides while staring back at each other.

You looked at him with these eyes that made his heart flutter in his chest, and he swore if his brother was here now. He'd tell him with a laugh about just how 'soft' Daryl Dixon had become. Soft for someone who he hadn't even kissed. Someone that he wanted to kiss so bad that it physically hurt.

Your fingers ran up his chest, and he held his breath for a moment. A hand resting cautiously on your side. Rubbing it up and down while blue eyes stared back into yours. "Daryl," he hummed in response, watching you close like every word you said was important. Because to him, it was all important. Every word you said to him was diamond and gold. You were truly a flower in the rough and he would protect you from all the rough in the world. Not a petal on you would ever wilt or be ripped off so long as he was watching over you.

"I love you." He held his breath again, his eyes wide as he stared back at you. He had no clue what to say, or even how to react to what you said. You loved him? You had to have said the wrong thing, why would anyone love Daryl Dixon?

All he could do was look at you with eyes that screamed he loved you back, but he had no clue how to say it. It was four simple words. 'I love you, too.' Yet, he couldn't form the words on his tongue. He hated the way you pulled your hand away from him. The look on your face that looked like you were just terrified that you had said the wrong thing, so he acted. Just as fast as he did when that prisoner tried to pull you against him.

His hand squeezed your side and his head leaned forward in order to close the gap between the both of you. His lips pressed against your own, and he let out a sigh of relief when he finally got to feel what your lips felt like against his own. it was soft at first - hesitant even. All until you grabbed the sides of his face with such desperation. He was quick to deepen it. His hand raced from your side to the back of your head to pull you close with need and hunger.

He had craved this moment for ages. He wanted to experience it a lot sooner than now, but now was better than never. His lips pushed so needily against your own, and he felt like his heart could Burt out of his chest at any moment with the force it was thumping beneath his chest. His lips moved with rhythm and passion that he didn't even know he had within himself.

His body was quick to move, too. Rolling on top of you so his other arm could rest beside your head. It wasn't until you both couldn't breathe that he finally pulled away from the kiss. Even if he wanted to kiss you until his vision was going blurry. He craved you so much that it wasn't even funny.

Each of you were panting, trying so hard to catch your breath while he stayed positioned above you. Now... Now he could say it. Those four words that he knew how to say back now. He had this sheepish look in his eyes as they darted around before finally landing back on yours. As if he didn't just kiss you with such desire and desperation. As if he wasn't hovering above you with sinful ideas that flashed behind his eyes at just the sight of you lying beneath him with slightly plumper lips and blown pupils. Those were thoughts for later though, not now. Not when he needed to tell you how much he loved you back.

"I love you too," and his voice was even more timid than his eyes. Which bounced back and forth between your own, and you smiled. It was so big, and he swore his chest ripped open with how in awe he was of that smile he caused.

"Been wanting to kiss you for ages, Daryl," he chuckled at that. It was ironic, almost. His head dipped down to kiss you once more. Parting his lips to bite at your lower lip and tug. Smirking at the shocked noise that slipped past your lips in response. "Been wantin' t'kiss ya since the Quarry," He murmured, pressing his lips to yours once, twice, three more times. Eager to make up for all the kisses you both could have shared if he wasn't such a scared fool.

Daryl pulled back again, though. His head lowering to hover his lips above your jaw. Pressing a languid kiss to the corner of it with a sigh. "Been waiting' too damn long to finally do all this," He told you, and you giggled in response. A noise that had his heart fluttering like a zoo of butterflies had erupted inside his chest.

"Well, Daryl, we have all the time in the world to do whatever we want now." You spoke, and he smirked at that. He raised his brows while leaning back up to kiss the corner of your lips. "Good, 'cause I ain't lettin' ya go anytime soon, Darlin'." He told you quite matter-of-factly. Causing you both to laugh a little while he moved back to his side and pulled you close.

It was a true fact, of course. Daryl never lied to you, and now he definitely wasn't. Because Daryl wasn't one to share, he wasn't one to give up what he loved, and he sure as hell wouldn't share you nor give you up. Even if he was offered a cure for whatever was causing this zombie outbreak. He'd never risk losing you for a cure to save the world unless he was promised you'd survive. You were his world, and call him selfish, but a world without you by his side. Was a world Daryl was never willing to even imagine living in. You were the one who saved him from losing it all back at the Quarry after he lost Merle. Even back at the farm when Sophia was found dead. You were his light at the end of the dark and damp tunnel he was running through and he wasn't about to give you up for anything.

@donkeydookie @flufpufpuf

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#daryl dixon #Daryl Dixon x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #twd #twd x reader

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starrydixon · 1 year

Text

Rainstorm

Era: Alexandria Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Pronouns: None-Specified Word Count: 1.9k Warnings: language, minor angst but a happy ending!!

Summary: After a week full of turmoil, the last thing you needed was a torrential rainstorm passing through Alexandria to worsen your already somber mood. When an unexpected guest appears at your door, you're surprised at just how fast your mood changes for the better.

The wind howled outside, causing the shutters that decorated the outside of the townhouse to rattle and shake. Heavy rain poured down from the dark gray and angry clouds that covered the blue sky, blocking the sunlight from shining down and making Alexandria seem gloomy and wet. Basically, it was a classic rainy day.

You were curled up on the couch in front of a fire that roared in the fireplace in your living room. A blanket was wrapped around your body like a cocoon, fuzzy socks covered your feet, a new book was perched on your lap, and a cup of steaming tea sat beside you on a coaster. Usually, you loved rainy days, before and after the end of the world. Solely because it gave you an excuse to do nothing but relax with the things that gave you the most comfort.

This time, however, there was minimal comfort to be felt as the storm outside only brought you more unease and gloom than it usually did. No amount of fuzzy socks or steaming tea could shake the sorrow from your body.

It had been a rough week for you, emotionally and physically. After a distressing argument at the start of the week with Daryl, your best and closest friend since the very beginning of the world-ending apocalypse, you had been working yourself to near exhaustion in an attempt to distract yourself from feeling the pit that sat heavily in your stomach. Whenever you did allow yourself to feel it, it was always a different feeling haunting you: anxiety, anger, sadness, guilt, and everything else in between.

You knew the argument had been blown out of proportion; starting from something small and then escalating to hurtful words being thrown both ways. It had gotten so heated, that Daryl left Alexandria and hadn’t returned since. You had no idea where he went, maybe going on a hunting trip or visiting the Kingdom to confide with Carol. It worried you to no end, not knowing where he was, but you hoped he was okay; despite how hurt you still felt from his harsh words.

From the moment you first met Daryl, back at the camp stationed in a Georgia quarry, you had been infatuated with him. He was a very handsome man, his broad shoulders and strong build was never lost on you. However, it was his rugged charm, loyalty to the people that he held closest, and the subtle ways he consistently cared for the people around him that made you attracted to the archer. As much as it pained you to stay in the friendzone, you cherished the connection you had with Daryl and didn’t want to ruin it by making a move or confessing your feelings to him.

Knowing that you had fought with the man that you loved and cared so deeply for, and being on the receiving end of the venom that laced his voice, stung more than the tears that pricked and pooled in the waterline of your eyes as you watched him stalk away from you, burning anger in each stride of his legs and stomp of his feet.

You were snapped out of your thoughts of dejection when abrupt pounding on the front door of your home sounded. The harsh bangs had practically caused you to jump out of your skin, and the book that was once sitting in your lap had fallen to the floor, face down and undoubtedly creasing the pages. Your heart pounded against your ribcage as you rose to your feet; all the while staring anxiously at the source of the sudden intrusion. With the heavy downpour, you knew the only reason why someone would venture outside, away from the safety of their home, was to inform you that something was wrong.

You feared the worst; thinking a large horde of walkers were nearing the community, the walls of Alexandria had fallen apart due to the heavy winds, or that someone had gotten severely hurt. Dread filled your body as you slowly approached the front door. You were trying to prolong whatever nightmare you were about to find yourself in.

More impatient bangs sounded from the door, so forceful you swore you saw the slab of wood vibrate with each harsh pound of a fist.

When you opened the front door, just a crack, you were instantly met with bitter cold winds and wet rain that seeped through the sliver of space. As a way to brace yourself from the cold, you tightened your arm around your body more securely before pulling the door open. If your body hadn’t been so tense from bracing the harsh rainstorm that dusted by, you were sure you would have lost some form of balance from the sight you were met with.

Daryl was standing a few steps down the staircase that led to the front door of your townhouse; dark clothes drenched and sticking to his body like glue while his dark strands of hair stuck to his face and neck. Through the curtain of bangs that hung over his eyes, you could see him squinting through the harsh winds and pelting rain..

“I fucked up!” The archer shouted over the torrential downpour, his arms outstretched and raised by his sides as if to further emphasize his statement.

You thought he was drunk, high, or at least on something. It was the only way to explain this crazed behavior. Why would he willingly be outside your house, sober, and practically being assaulted by Mother Nature herself, just to talk to you? After the last time you two had spoken, you assumed that the archer wanted nothing to do with you anymore.

Before you could utter a single syllable, Daryl continued. “I really fucked up, and m’sorry! I shouldn’t of said those things to ya, or treated ya like that! I just-“

Loud thunder erupted in the angry sky as a flash of bright lighting struck the air. You both cringed at the disturbance, and Daryl was having a hard time getting out what he wanted-no-needed to say to you. With his confidence momentarily stunted, the archer brought a hand to his face and haphazardly swept away a few sopping strands of hair from his line of vision. His feet shuffled anxiously on the step he was teetering on.

“I ain’t good with words unless I’m bein’ a dick…but I just wanted to say that—I just-I just love ya, alright!? Been in love with ya for a real long time, and I know I don’t deserve ya, and—it just hurts sometimes and I act like an asshole because of it!” The weather was unrelenting, so Daryl was still having to strain his voice and shout over the heavy downpour.

You were sure your mouth was opened ajar, although you couldn’t feel it since your whole body was simultaneously numb and burning hot at the same time. With the amount of emotions flooding through you, it was hard to process the admission that Daryl had just professed to you. This resulted in you becoming struck with silence as you stared at the archer with wide eyes.

Taking your silence as a sign of rejection, Daryl began to descend down the steps with a shake of his head. Embarrassment and shame of his impulsive actions were quickly overcoming him, and he couldn’t stand to look in your eyes anymore. His retreat away from you seemed to snap you out of the stunned haze you were in.

“Daryl!” Without hesitation, you left the safety that your doorway held and leapt into the rainstorm.

Now at the bottom of the staircase, Daryl spun around when he heard your voice calling after him. The archer had just enough time to brace himself and catch you, just as you jumped into his arms. Instinctively, your arms snaked around his neck, and your lips found his in a haste kiss that ended just before it could start.

As you were beginning to pull away, with heat flushing your cheeks, Daryl’s large hand clasped over the back of your neck and pulled you back into a heated kiss. Daryl wasn’t sure when exactly the urge to kiss you became unavoidably prominent whenever he looked at you, but he knew it’s been for a while; maybe since the days spent on the Greene’s family farm.

As you kissed until you were both blue in the face with diaphragms aching, there was no rain drenching you, or thunder and lightning cracking through the sky. It was just you and him, letting out all the feelings you’ve both been harboring for the past few years in a searing kiss.

“I love you too.” You spoke softly, just barely above a whisper, once you had pulled away from him to allow fresh oxygen to fill your lungs.

With your eyes still shut, you could feel Daryl’s strong chest heave against yours as he caught his breath, and his forehead rest on yours with a gentle press. The tip of his nose brushed against yours, and you had a hard time trying not to laugh at the tingly sensation the touch brought.

“M’sorry.” Daryl murmured quietly, so quiet you almost missed it due to the rain assailing down on you. “I shouldn’t of-of acted like that, no matter how upset I was…I just-”

Before he could finish speaking, you quieted him by tightening your arms around his neck and bringing him down to your level so you could replace your lips on his for a short, but meaningful, kiss. “I know…I’m sorry too, for everything.”

The archer’s arms only tightened around your figure more securely as his head shook slightly, almost as if he couldn’t accept or believe in your forgiveness. Reluctantly, you pulled away from him again; this time with just enough space separating you both to be able to look at his face and in his eyes. Regret and blatant sadness filled his gray-blue eyes, and it caused your heartstrings to pull painfully. Removing a hand from off his neck, you cupped one side of his face and swept a few drenched strands of dark hair from off his cheek with your thumb.

“We’re both at fault here…but we can start, whatever this is, with a new slate, y’know?” As you spoke, a smile grew across your face, brightening your features in the process.

As Daryl let his eyes flicker over your face, admiring the light radiating off of you despite the storm around you, he could feel the rays of your smile warm his body and bring light back to his previously dulled eyes. He felt reassured by your words, convinced that you both could forgive and let this moment be the start of something new and special.

“Yeah…that sounds good.” With a nod of his head, and a smile of his own twitching at the corners of his mouth, Daryl held your face in his hands and pulled you in for another captivating kiss.

You couldn’t help but laugh against the archer’s lips, your arms now wrapped loosely around his neck as you leaned backwards with each laugh that escaped you. It was quite possible that you’d end up with a cold, due to being out in the pouring rain for so long, but that was the last thing on your mind as you continued to kiss the man you’ve been painfully smitten with for a long time.

From now on, whenever a rainstorm passed through, you knew those feelings of gloom and weariness would be replaced with warmth and elation. You’d think back to this exact moment; kissing Daryl for the first time in the pouring rain, wearing matching smiles that were so bright it threatened to clear the dark clouds in the sky and bring the sun out once again.

A/N: I’ve always wanted to write the ‘kissing in the rain’ trope, so as soon as this idea struck me, I ran with it! Is it a little cliche? Maybe. But is it cute? Yes. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!! <3

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction

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b1ackoutartist · 6 months

Text

Chicken

The night was cool and the sky above was a tapestry of stars. Natasha and Y/N lay side by side on the grass in a secluded corner of the park, a sense of tranquility surrounding them. They had shared a bottle of wine, and the gentle buzz added a layer of openness to their conversation.

Y/N turned her head to look at Natasha, her eyes reflecting the starlight. "You know what I dream about? Living offside, away from the chaos of the city. A house by a lake, maybe with a mini farm. Just a peaceful, quiet place," she shared, her voice soft and wistful.

Natasha turned to face her, propping herself up on one elbow. "Why don't you go for it?" she asked gently.

Y/N sighed, a small frown creasing her forehead. "Carol hates the idea. She can't see herself away from the city life."

There was a moment of silence as Natasha processed this, feeling a twinge of frustration at Carol's inability to see Y/N's needs.

As they lay there, their faces inches apart, the air between them seemed to charge with an unspoken tension. Natasha's gaze flickered to Y/N's lips, and she saw a similar longing in Y/N's eyes.

For a fleeting second, they both leaned in, drawn by a magnetic pull. Their breaths mingled, and Natasha's heart raced, pounding against her ribcage. But just as quickly as the moment came, it passed. They both pulled away simultaneously, a silent agreement to pretend it never happened.

Natasha lay back, staring up at the sky, her heart still racing from the near kiss. She was acutely aware of Y/N's presence beside her, the heat from her body, the sound of her breathing. It was a moment of unspoken connection, a testament to the depth of their bond, yet underscored by a palpable tension of what could have been.The rest of the night passed in a comfortable silence, both lost in their thoughts, the memory of their almost-kiss hanging in the air like a delicate, unspoken secret.

---

Natasha pulled up to Yelena's place, honking the horn. Yelena emerged, looking confused.

"Where are we going?" Yelena asked as she hopped into the passenger seat.

"We're borrowing a chicken," Natasha said matter-of-factly, starting the car.

"A chicken? Seriously, Nat? There are better ways to woo someone," Yelena remarked, rolling her eyes.

"It's for Y/N," Natasha said, her tone softening at the mention of Y/N's name.

Yelena sighed, "You know, you could just tell her you've been in love with her for years."

Natasha glanced at her sister and flipped her off playfully. "Just help me with this, okay?"

As they approached the farm, Yelena couldn't help but tease her sister. "You do realize that stealing a chicken is not exactly a grand romantic gesture, right?"

"It's not about the chicken, Yelena. It's about making Y/N's dream a little more real," Natasha explained, her eyes focused on the road.

Yelena shook her head, smiling at her sister's stubbornness. "Fine, but if we get caught, I'm not calling Melina to bail us out again. Last time was embarrassing enough."

Natasha chuckled, "Deal. But we won't get caught. You forget who you're with."

They arrived at the farm under the cover of darkness. The mission was simple: sneak in, grab a chicken, and sneak out. But with Yelena's constant commentary, it felt more like a comedy of errors.

"This is ridiculous, Nat. We're like two spies on a mission to save the world, except it's just a chicken," Yelena whispered as they crept towards the chicken coop.

Natasha couldn't help but laugh quietly. "Just follow my lead."

They managed to grab a chicken, though not without a few squawks and a lot of suppressed laughter. As they made their escape, Yelena couldn't resist one last comment.

"Next time you want to impress a girl, maybe stick to flowers and chocolates, okay?"

Natasha just smiled, holding the chicken carefully. "This is perfect for Y/N. You'll see."

They drove back with their feathery cargo, both sisters unable to shake the feeling of another absurd but memorable adventure added to their list.

---

The morning sun was barely up when Natasha arrived at Y/N's apartment. She knew Carol had bailed on Y/N again last night, choosing to get drunk with friends instead.

Natasha knocked firmly on the door, a mix of concern and excitement in her heart.Y/N opened the door, rubbing her eyes, her hair tousled from sleep. She looked adorably disheveled, and Natasha's heart skipped a beat.

"Nat? What are you doing here so early?" Y/N mumbled, still half-asleep.

Natasha grinned. "Morning, sleepyhead. Get ready; we're going out."

Y/N groaned, "Nat, it's too early. Come back later," she said, turning to close the door.

But Natasha stopped the door with her hand. "Nope, no going back to bed. We have a schedule to keep up with," she said with a determined look.

Y/N sighed, leaning against the door frame. "Nat, I'm really not in the mood..."

Natasha softened her tone. "Y/N, trust me. You're going to want to see this. Please?"

There was a pause as Y/N looked into Natasha's earnest eyes. Finally, she nodded, a small smile appearing on her lips. "Fine, give me fifteen minutes."

"Make it ten," Natasha said playfully, stepping back.

Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled. "Ten minutes, but I need coffee first."

Natasha's grin widened. "Deal. I'll wait here."

As Y/N disappeared to get ready, Natasha felt a flutter of excitement.

---

Natasha drove with a sense of purpose, while Y/N sat beside her, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The cityscape slowly gave way to open roads and green fields.

"Nat, seriously, where are we going?" Y/N asked, a mix of tiredness and curiosity in her voice.

"Just wait and see," Natasha replied, her eyes fixed on the road. Y/N glanced at Natasha, watching her focused expression. Despite her confusion and tiredness, she couldn't help but smile softly at Natasha's determined profile.

After a while, they arrived in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. Trees surrounded them, and the sounds of the city were a distant memory.

Y/N looked around, "Nat, why did you wake me up for trees?"

Without a word, Natasha took Y/N's hand and started leading her forward. The anticipation was building, and Natasha could feel her heart racing.

As they neared the lake, Y/N's eyes widened. In front of them was a little fenced area, a small wooden structure resembling a chicken coop, some straw on the ground, a chicken pecking around, and a handmade sign that read "Y/N's Little Farm."

Y/N's gaze moved from the chicken to Natasha and back again. "Nat, is this...?"

Natasha grinned, "Your mini farm by the lake. I remember what you told me that night. You shouldn't let Carol or anyone else stop you from your dreams."

Y/N looked at Natasha, her eyes brimming with unspoken emotions. The gesture, so thoughtful and so aligned with her deepest desires, struck a chord in her heart.

"Nat, this is... I don't even have words," Y/N's voice trembled slightly.

Natasha stepped closer, her expression softening. "You don't need words, Y/N."

In that moment, something shifted between them. The unspoken feelings, the tension of their near-kiss a week ago, it all came rushing back.Without thinking, Y/N leaned in and kissed Natasha.

It was a kiss filled with gratitude, realization, and a budding love that had been there all along, waiting for the right moment.

As they pulled apart, Natasha looked into Y/N's eyes, seeing a reflection of her own feelings. "I just want you to be happy, Y/N," she whispered.

Y/N squeezed Natasha's hand, her heart full. "Thank you"

#black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow x reader #marvel #natasha romanov

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fawnandshadows · 5 months

Text

I'll Be Home For Christmas ~ Part One

Word Count: 8.8k

Warnings: Smut, language

AO3

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I’ve never been on a train before.” Elain admitted, her eyes trained on the snow-covered pine trees through the moving window.

The strong body beside her shifted, careful to maintain a small amount of space between them.

“Really?” Azriel asked curiously, turning the page in his worn book, A Christmas Carol, that he snagged from her bookshelf.

“Usually someone drives me to and from school,” Elain turned to him with a smile. “Someone being you.”

Hazel eyes met hers over the brim of a fraying book.

“Sorry my car broke down.” Azriel said, almost playfully. Well, Elain could recognize the playfulness in his voice. Anyone else would have heard a droll deliverance.

“‘Broke down’ seems excessive,” Elain turned towards him, her hands pressed between her cheek and the cloth seat in a praying gesture. “You need a new battery and the shop is closed.”

“The perils of traveling on Christmas Eve.” Azriel said, and though the book was covering half of his face, Elain knew he was smiling.

She looked around the carriage of the train, over the empty seats, and silently wondered if they always ran the train with next to no one on it. A few passengers rose in other carts, but Elain was grateful for the privacy. Somehow they had managed to hop on the train all of three minutes before it left — the bus that they tried left five minutes early, and the car rental place was completely sold out.

“I think you did it on purpose,” Elain yawned, her eyelids suddenly feeling heavy. It must have been the excitement and anxiety of this morning getting to her — all the last minute changes, and it wasn’t until her butt sat firmly in her train seat that she felt exhausted. It all crashed into her at once. “So you could see more of my ugly face.”

An ugly sound caught in Azriel’s throat, and she saw the corner of his eyes crease as he smiled.

“Of all the words I would use to describe you, sweetheart, ugly isn’t one of them.”

She smiled softly at that, and then they weren’t talking. She became startlingly aware of the fact that they were just looking into each other’s eyes and the weight of his gaze became the center of her universe.

With flushing cheeks she blurted out, “Read to me?”

“Marley was dead to begin with…”

Elain shut her eyes and hunkered down in her seat, listening to his deep, dark, relaxing voice. She focused more on the luxurious sound of his voice than the actual content of what he was saying, but she had read the tale multiple times and saw enough movies to be able to follow along, a picture forming in her mind as she felt lighter and drifted off.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Elain awoke when she felt as if she was no longer in motion. Her neck was bent at an awkward angle, and somehow her cheek no longer pressed against her hands, but had migrated to Azriel’s chest. One arm smooshed between her side and the seat while her other arm came up and clutched Azriel’s shoulder. Her sleeping form clinging to his strength and warmth.

The book was laid open on his chest, and Elain gazed up at him to find that he had fallen asleep as well — one hand resting on his stomach to keep the book in place, and the other stretched over her seat, allowing her to snuggle and burrow into his side.

He looked devastatingly handsome.

His black hair curled out from under his navy knit cap on his thick locks, and she could see a few freckles on his brown skin — Elain wanted to touch each and everyone of them, to map them out as if they were her own constellations. Soft snores passed through his parted lips, and it somehow endeared him more towards her. Which she didn’t think was possible.

With more strength than she had, Elain turned her head away from him and looked out the window. The entirety of the glass was frosted over and Elain nearly had to shield her eyes from the blinding snow swirling around outside. She quickly looked away, but after growing up in New England she only needed two seconds to register what the whiteout meant.

A blizzard.

Begrudgingly, Elain pushed herself away from Azriel, leaving her hand on his shoulder to gently shake him awake.

She watched as his eyes blinked awake, slowly gaining consciousness.

“Are we there?” Azriel asked, his voice heavy with sleep.

Elain shook her head in response.

“I don’t think so,” Elain started, ignoring the way his arm fell so that it no longer rested on her seat but rather on her back. “There’s a blizzard.”

His eyes fluttered behind her to look at the window and then drifted back to her face, understanding dawning in his expression.

“I fell asleep.” Azriel stated, slight disbelief coloring his voice. Elain bit her lip and nodded her head — Azriel was notorious for his insomnia. Whenever she couldn’t sleep Elain would find herself scrolling through tumblr or Instagram, and Azriel was always on. She’d wake and find messages from him timestamped 3:00, 4:00, or 5:00 am…and whenever she and her sisters would spend the night at the place Az shared with his brothers, she would always wake to hear him quietly playing videos. Sometimes she would go and join him, either having him show her how to play, or if she was too tired she would just sit by him to keep him company.

“Well, it’s a good thing cause you didn’t sleep much last night.”

She woke up at seven and saw a text dated three hours before.

Azriel was in grad school at the same university where Elain was pursuing her bachelors — about seven hours southwest from where their family lived. It was only Elain’s second year, but she loved traveling with Azriel to and from campus. She always had a small, school-girl crush on her sister’s boyfriend's brother, but somehow she had fallen hopelessly in love with him from the passenger side of his car. He was kind…funny…attentive…and there was nothing she could have done to stop the casual affection she felt for Azriel from blossoming into something beautiful.

And Azriel…Elain thought he felt something similar. When she first started college, he went out of his way to make her comfortable, and he was her only friend until she met Nuala and Cerridwen. But he went on dates and had casual hook ups — on more than one occasion she went to his apartment early enough to see half-dressed girls try to sneak out. Elain would simply paint on a fake smile and avert her eyes, not saying anything to Azriel when she saw him…but his dates and hook ups became few and far between. He spent most of his days texting her, and in all of their free time they would go to the library or their favorite diner — studying together, sharing their favorite meals, or even having Netflix marathons at his apartment.

Azriel sought her company just as much as she sought his.

“What are the chances we actually made it to Velaris?” Azriel asked in a gravelly voice, sitting up slightly from his slouched position — his discarded coat halfway off his seat.

Elain pulled her phone out of her backpack on the ground and checked the time. Somehow only two hours had passed since they left.

“It’s only 3:00.” Elain showed him her phone.

“Well, fuck,” Azriel said, rubbing his clean shaven chin. “You should text Feyre, let her know what happened. You know your dad will worry.”

Elain nodded, sending a quick text to her sister, downplaying what happened to make it seem as if her and Azriel weren’t somehow stranded in the middle of a blizzard — even if they were stranded in the middle of a blizzard.

“My dad likes you,” Elain said softly, her eyes not looking up from her screen. “I have no service. You?”

Azriel jostled in his seat to pull his phone out of his back pocket, tapped the screen, and shook his head.

His eyes met hers and a sarcastic look took over his expression as he said, “Your dad hates me.”

There was one time last winter break where Azriel came over to her house and they watched all the Christmas episodes of The Office in her room — the rest of their family went bar-hopping and Azriel stayed home with her — and they both fell asleep on her bed. Fully clothed. On top of the covers. Somehow in the middle of the night she had ended up in Azriel’s arms. And when her father knocked on her door the next evening he wasn’t thrilled to see her and Azriel sleeping next to each other. Ever since then her father would make off handed remarks about their relationship and would give Azriel the stink eye whenever he saw him — Even if they were huddled over her phone or sitting too close together her dad would yell, “Save room for the Holy Spirit!” which would cause Elain to turn bright red and roll her eyes.

“That’s not true.” Elain said, tucking her phone back into her backpack.

“He certainly doesn’t want me dating you.” Azriel raised a dark eyebrow at her and adjusted his beanie.

A flushed ran through her cheeks as she mumbled, “He doesn’t want me dating anyone. It’s nothing against you in particular. He just knows that we spend so much time together.”

“And you told him you spent the night in my bed.” Azriel groaned and rubbed the heel of his hand into his eye.

Elain cringed at the memory. For some reason she thought it would placate her father to know that it was a common occurrence — she would go over to his place and accidentally fall asleep while watching tv. Nothing ever happened, but her fathers face turned red with anger before pointing to her doorway and saying “Out.” between clenched teeth. Azriel tried to apologize, but her father wouldn’t let him, so Azriel left and sent her a sad look over his shoulder.

“I thought it would make it better. Give him a better understanding of our friendship.” Elain explained, crossing her arms across her chest as she leaned back into her seat.

His eyes fell to her chest, not in a sexual way, but to take note of the sweatshirt she was wearing. His sweatshirt that she had stolen months ago.

“No one understands our friendship.” Azriel stated, mimicking her posture and crossing his arms, but he did it with arrogance. As if he has somehow checkmated her in this conversation.

He was correct.

There were whispers around campus that they were friends with benefits — Even though Elain liked to stick to herself, she had the twins and Azriel and it was enough. Too many bad friends burned her in high school that she learned the value of just having a few good friends. Most people weren’t even interested in her, they just wanted to know the girl who got Azriel to stop sleeping around. For the most part, they just ignored the whispers.

There was, however, one person that really didn’t love or understand their relationship. Rhysand. Azriel’s closest friend.

Rhys shrugged off the entire incident of Azriel spending the night in her room. At that point, Elain was still basically his little sister and Azriel was his brother, and as far as Rhys knew Azriel was still fucking around on campus and wouldn’t look twice at her. However, two days later he held a party at his house, where Elain could drink with her entire family and not have to worry about anything, and somehow she ended up on Azriel’s lap. They were both drunk. One of Azriel’s hands on her bare thigh, her skirt was bunched and hiked up higher than she would have liked if she was sober, and his other hand was on her knee — holding her close to his chest so she wouldn’t slip off. Elain was playfully adjusting the Santa Cap on his head, her fingers touching his hair a little more than was necessary, but Azriel let her. He just smiled up at her. And there was a teeny, tiny part of Elain that was hoping he would kiss her.

He didn’t.

Feyre came over and kindly pulled Elain off of his lap, offering to dance with her and Elain eagerly agreed.

Elain had no idea anything was even wrong. It wasn’t until later when she heard Rhys and Azriel arguing upstairs on her way to the bathroom that she realized there was an issue.

“She’s 18!” Rhys whispered angrily. “You’re 23!”

“You didn’t have a problem with that a few months ago, when you kept pushing me to hang out with her.” Azriel replied in an icy voice. One that Elain almost never heard.

“To be her friend! To make her feel comfortable and help her settle in! Not to drool over her tits while she’s giving you a lap dance,” Elain looked down at her chest from the opposite side of the door. “Not to make her fall in love with you.”

“We are friends.” Azriel responded glibly.

“A friend you don’t want to fuck?”

Silence.

“Don’t you fucking hurt her,” Rhys started, and for some reason Elain thought he was probably poking Azriel in the chest. “I know how you are, Az, you’ve never been with someone longer than a week. You get bored and you leave them. Fucking A — that girl looks at you with fucking stars in her eyes. She obviously likes you. Just be her friend. And keep your dick to yourself.”

Elain quickly scampered to the bathroom. She sat on the toilet and ran her hands under cold water, wanting to cool herself off as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. And when she went back downstairs Azriel was standing next to Cassian — who was playing against Nesta at beer pong — and Az intentionally didn’t meet her gaze as she reached the bottom of the steps. So, she walked over to the makeshift dance floor with Feyre and Mor. Thankful they never noticed the confusion hidden behind her smile.

Neither of them spoke for a few moments and then the blurry, distorted voice of the conductor came from the overheard speaker.

Elain and Azriel looked at each other, silently imploring whether or not they could hear what the conductor was saying.

They couldn’t.

It wasn’t until one of the workers walked into their car a few moments later that they realized they had managed to dock at a small station, but the tracks were completely snowed over ahead of them and there was no way for them to be going anywhere.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The small diner located just down the street from the train station was cozy, to say the least.

Small with a few locals sitting in the booths, and as soon the bell jangled to alert the patrons of their arrival, Elain felt all eyes land on her and Azriel.

It was the type of place where people recognized a new face.

Elain smiled politely and quickly sat in the booth toward the end of the restaurant, where there was enough room for Azriel to lay down their bags without being in the way.

She expected him to sit on the opposite side of the table, but he surprised her by scooting into the booth next to her — his thigh pressed against hers as he leaned his head close to hers.

“What are the chances we get out of this town tonight?” Azriel asked, his voice low and close to her ear.

Elain forced herself to turn her head and look out the window, taking great effort to appear unaffected by his closeness, and saw the white flurries falling down and obscuring the entire view. Nothing but a veil of white.

“I’m thinking it’s pretty low,” Elain said, turning back to him. “The roads aren’t even plowed yet.”

Azriel nodded his head.

“Looks like you’ll be spending Christmas Eve with me,” Azriel said, nudging his shoulder into hers. “Hope you aren’t disappointed.”

“Never,” Elain smiled, suddenly feeling shy. “You don’t have anyone back home waiting for you? Heartbroken that you aren’t showing up?”

Elain meant the words as a joke, but as soon as the words left her mouth it felt as if the entire world was resting on a pin. Ready to topple with what he said next.

“No,” Azriel said, his eyes darkening. He brought one hand up to rest behind her shoulders, on the back of the booth. Just like how he sat in the train. “I don’t have anyone pining over me.”

“Are you sure about that?” Elain asked, leaning into his side.

Azriel tucked one of her curls behind her ear. He opened his mouth to respond, but the waitress sidled up to their table and handed them the menus.

“Can I get you lovebirds anything to drink?” She asked, smiling at them. Elain could see the fine lines in her face made from smiling over the years. Her dark curls were piled on top of her head and her name tag read ‘Alis’.

“Two hot coffees with cream, no sugar.” Azriel said, giving Alis a polite smile.

“Do you know what you want? Or do you want to look at the menu?” Alis asked.

Azriel turned to Elain, not even opening the menu before saying, “Waffles and bacon?”

Elain nodded her head upon hearing her favorite breakfast. Not the healthiest. Or one she had very often. But her favorite.

Elain tapped her finger on her nose three times, thinking. And as she spoke her finger slowly turned and pointed at his amused expression.

“Denver omelet,” Elain said thoughtfully. “Rye toast, hash browns, aaaaaaand,” She drew out the last word, thinking about what Az would like to complete his meal. “A side of fruit.”

“Perfect.” Azriel said with a grin that showed off his dimples and handed the unopened menus back to Alis.

“You two are sweet,” Alis said, tucking the menus under her arm. “How long have you been together?”

Elain felt her cheeks blush at the words, but Azriel didn’t miss a beat.

“About a year now.”

His arm dropped down from the seat and settled around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. For the second time today.

His hand curled around her shoulder.

“But we’ve known each other for years.” Elain added, and Azriel looked at her in surprise as she wrapped her arms around his waist. Underneath his coat.

“Awww, childhood sweethearts,” Alis said with affection. “I’ll put your order in.”

She walked away, but neither Azriel or Elain moved. They didn’t shift or pull away.

They leaned closer together.

“This isn’t a horrible place to be.” Elain admitted, slightly nuzzling closer to him.

“Even on Christmas Eve?”

“Especially on Christmas Eve.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After their meal Elain and Azriel finally decided to check their phones and see if their service finally returned — they both hid their disappointment as they saw the full signal bars on their screens.

“I’ll call hotels and you call Feyre?” Azriel suggested and Elain nodded along, looking at all the unread messages on her phone. Sighing, she called her sister.

“Elain?” Feyre answered, worried. “Are you ok?”

“We're fine,” Elain reassured her sister, watching Az dial from the corner of her eye. “We just finished lunch, but I don’t think we can make it home tonight — Our train stopped at the first station it could. We only rode for about two hours.”

“Where are you?”

“My phone said Winter Court — wherever that is,” Elain replied, noting how Azriel hung up the phone to call someone else. “Are you guys still doing cookies tonight?”

“Yes,” Feyre said, and Elain could hear the shuffling cookware over the phone and multiple people speaking at once. “Though, I’m sure they’ll be burned without you.”

Azriel sighed, hung up, and called someone new.

“They’ll be delicious,” Elain said with a soft smile. She was about to remind her sister to set the oven five degrees less than what the recipe recommends, but she heard her fathers voice on the other end.

“Is that Lainy?”

“Yeah, papa.”

“Let me talk to her,” Static shuffled through the phone, and like clockwork Azriel called someone new. “Are you being safe, sweetheart?” Her fathers voice became crystal clear and for the first time she felt a pang of homesickness.

“Of course, papa,” Elain said. “But we’re not gonna make it home tonight. Az is calling hotels to book a room for us. I miss you guys.”

A beat of silence.

Azriel hung up his phone, but didn’t call anyone else.

“A room?”

Her eyes met Azriels, and he must have heard her father because he nodded in confirmation.

“Is was all they had?” Elain meant to say with confidence, but her voice lilted into a question.

Azriel nodded in confirmation even though his lips curled into a smile as he mouthed,

“Honeymoon Suite.”

She blushed.

“Hopefully it has a couch for the boy.” Her father grumbled.

Before Elain could stop herself she said, “I’m not going to make Azriel sleep on the couch, dad.”

Azriel raised a dark brow at her.

“Let me speak to him.” Her father said with a sigh.

Elain held the phone out to Az, their fingers touching as he took it from her.

The bastard turned the volume down so she couldn’t hear what her father was saying.

“Mmmhm,” Azriel’s eyes never left hers. “Don’t worry sir, I’ll protect her,” His hazel eyes darkened. “Mmhhmm. Goodbye.”

Azriel handed her phone back to her and said, “He hung up.”

“Honeymoon Suite?” Elain asked, pocketing the phone.

“This town has a surprising amount of hotels and motels and somehow they’re all booked. Apparently, this is a really popular Christmas destination for tourism, and hotels get booked years in advance. Somehow I found this small B&B and the only room they had was the honeymoon suite on a special reserve. If anyone asks, we eloped at the courthouse on a whim and haven’t had time to buy rings yet,” At her silence he continued. “I’m thinking we take a cue from Alis. Childhood sweethearts?”

“Az?”

“Yes?”

“We’ve been good friends for over a year now, yes? And we’ve known each other for a while — but I’ve never heard you talk for so long.”

A face-splitting grin stretched across his lips.

“Maybe I talk when I get nervous.” Azriel said, his cheeks pinkening.

“You’re nervous?” Elain asked softly, her heart speeding.

“It’s not every day that I propose.”

Her stomach felt hollow.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, this is the best proposal I’ve ever received.”

Their bodies were still pressed together, so Elain could feel him tense just a bit.

“I’m not your first?”

“Lucien Vanserra in the fourth grade and then again in eighth.” Elain explained and watched as

Azriel’s expression became carefully guarded.

“The prick in your American Lit class?”

“He’s not that bad, and he was very gracious considering the fact I shot down his proposal twice.”

His jaw worked.

“And what about mine?”

Elain leaned forward and adjusted his knit cap, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear.

“How would you like to be my first husband, Az?”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Their B&B was a fifteen minute walk from the diner, but it took them almost 40 minutes since they couldn’t see more than a foot in front of them.

Azriel held Elain’s hand tightly as they wadded through the snow — neither of them in the proper footwear. At one point Azriel’s beanie almost blew off and Elain practically had to jump on top of him to keep it from flying away.

Their coats were wet and heavy by the time they arrived, and as soon as they stepped through the door they dropped their duffle bags on the ground and Azriel immediately wrapped his arms around Elain. Her wet hair in his face. His hands aggressively rubbing her arms over her wool coat.

“You must be the newly weds!” A friendly voice called over to them and Elain heard the clicking of heels over the wooden floor.

Elain poked her head out from Azriel's chest and saw a stunningly beautiful blonde — eyes a bright blue and hair almost white as snow and creamy, bright skin.

“That’s us.” Azriel said in an even voice, one that made it seem like they just took a stroll on a lovely fall day and not through a blizzard mars.

“I’m Viviane,” She introduced herself and held out her hand. Elain stayed wrapped around Azriel for warmth, but he managed to find enough manners in her to shake her hand. “My husband and I own this place. I’ll get you checked in and have someone show you to your room.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You can shower first.” Azriel said as soon as they stepped into their room.

Elain toed off her boots and walked across the hardwood floor to place her duffel bag at the base of the bed.

“Are you sure?” Elain asked, ignoring how her teeth harshly chattered together.

“Lainy,” Azriel said, his feet silently padding across the floor as he came up behind her. “You’re a human popsicle. I’m pretty sure you’re so cold that my tongue would stick to you if I licked you,” He placed his hands on her shoulders and spun her so that she would face him. Her white socks twisting beneath her feet. “Go take a hot shower.”

Her wide eyes met his.

“Do you plan on licking me?” Elain asked, slightly breathless and a flash of heat swept through his hazel eyes. He didn’t say anything. “There’s a rumor I’ve heard about you on campus.” Her tongue came out to wet her lips.

“And what’s that?” Azriel challenged. His voice was rough and Elain could vaguely feel his fingers tightening on her shoulders.

“That you like…”

“That I like…?”

“That you like using your tongue.” Elain rushed out and her face was so hot she thought that her skin would start to peel off. Her cheeks were at odds with the rest of her body.

“Yes, I like using my tongue,” Azriel said as he narrowed his eyes. One of his hands fell away from her shoulder and he brought it up to rub at his lips. “I need it for speaking. For eating. I find my life would be quite difficult without it.”

It was Elain’s turn to narrow her eyes.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Azriel tilted his face down to hers.

“Say what you mean, Elain.”

“I heard around campus, from a few girls,” Elain started and she fought the urge to turn and climb under the covers to find her flushing face, but she wanted to finish what she started. “That you like to go down on them. With your tongue. In their vaginas.”

Elain puffed out her chest a bit like she won some sort of battle.

“I do.”

Her chest faltered.

“Oh.”

Elain scrambled for something to say — for some reason she never thought he would actually admit it. And she couldn’t stop the onslaught of images that cascaded through her brain, of all the girls that taunted her about it. She could picture them with Azriel's dark head between their thighs.

“I like giving blow jobs,” Elain admitted, her voice deceptively innocent. His face didn’t change. He didn’t so much as blink at her words. “If you were curious.”

“I wasn’t,” Azriel said blandly, his voice carefully even toned. “Take your damn shower Elain.”

She scampered to the bathroom without looking back.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Azriel wanted to hit someone.

Mainly himself.

“I like giving blow jobs,”

And whoever the fuck Elain was giving blowjobs to.

He shucked off his soaked coat and sunk into a froofy chair by the window as the shower turned on.

His scarred hands came up to grip his hair as he tired hard not to picture Elain’s naked body glistening with water as she showered, and he tried fucking hard not picture her blowing her exboyfriends. None of them fucking deserve it. They didn’t deserve her.

Maybe he wanted to hit Rhys.

For getting in the way last year.

If Azriel thought hard enough, then he could still feel her plush thigh beneath his palm. Her fingers gently tugging at his hair. He could remember the feel of her on his lap, and how his eyes kept drifting from her lips to her flushed cheeks to the ample cleavage on display — and he kept fighting the little urge to kiss her. It wasn’t even an urge. It was a beck and call.

Elain was the type of girl he could kiss forever and never get bored. She was soft. Luscious. He could hold her in his arms and kiss her until he was blue in the face — his hands lazily exploring her body as their lips moved together. Slowly. Gently. Playfully.

There were a few times before she plunked herself down on his lap last year that he thought about kissing her. Her lips pursed whenever she was concentrating really hard ( her nose scrunched as well, but that’s besides the point) and he recalled one night they were studying late in the library when he thought that kissing would be a much better use of their time.

And when she would bake for him. Sometimes a little frosting would linger on her mouth, and Azriel wondered if it would be sweeter on her lips than out of the bowl.

Elain had the perfect fucking lips for kissing.

And blowing.

Apparently.

“I like giving blow jobs,”

Azriel wasn’t stupid. Or blind.

He’s always known Elain was incredibly beautiful — it was a fact. Saying Elain is beautiful was like saying Cassian is incredibly fit. Or that Rhysand is smart. It just is.

He knew that Rhysand didn’t push Elain at him just to help her settle in on campus, but the more time Elain spent with Azriel, then the less time horny frat boys and jocks would be sniffing around her. Azriel was aware of his reputation, and he didn’t care that Rhys wanted to use it to protect Elain. Hell, Azriel even agreed with it. And he liked Elain. So he went along with it.

But he didn’t realize just how much he fucking liked Elain.

He found himself seeking her out. Calling her. Texting her. He would send her all the tiktoks that he thought she would like, or even just a random one with his thoughts like, “This is fucking weird.” He didn’t realize how much he craved her until he was in bed with some blonde, and after they were finished fucking Azriel immediately checked his phone and smiled when he saw the notifications from Elain. The blonde girl he was with wanted to talk. Or cuddle or something. And he cared more about replying to Elain’s tiktok messages than he did about going for round two. Eventually, he started thinking about Elain as he was fucking some random girl and he couldn’t wash away the oily feeling that lingered for days afterward.

Azriel sighed deeply as he sank further into the chair, the heels of his palms rubbing his eyes as he tried to ignore the images of a wet, showering Elain that were pilfering through his mind – her pale skin glistening and beads of water dripped down her curves, lathered soap slipping down her back—

His cock hardened at the image, and Azriel shifted himself in his jeans.

The squeaking sound of Elain turning the knob of the shower off rankled his nerves.

“Az?” Elain called out, and Azriel lifted his eyes to peek at the bathroom door that was cracked open ever so slightly, steam floated out like shadows from behind her.

“Yes?”

A beat of silence.

“I forgot my clothes.” Elain said hesitantly.

Azriel felt his skin flush and overheat, but he pushed himself up and walked over to where he plunked their luggage down.

“Do you want your entire bag?” He asked in an even voice, his eyes dropped to her lips as she took her bottom one between her teeth.

“Just my toiletry bag and pajamas, please.” Elain said in a high voice. And Azriel nodded, slowly unzipping her bag and carefully moved her clothes out of the way to fund her pjs.

“You didn’t pack any.” Azriel called out, forcing a teasing tone to his voice as he ignored the scraps of lace panties that kept jumping out at him.

“Yes I did,” Elain responded, huffing in slight annoyance. “Those plaid shorts,” Azriel had thought they were underwear, but grabbed them at her words. “And your old AC/DC shirt.” Azriel’s fought from grinding his teeth together — he knew Elain stole his clothes, knew that she slept and lounged in them, but knowing that he packed his old tshirt and was going to sleep beside him in it made his skin flame.

Azriel carefully grabbed the first underwear he could find and placed it between her pajamas so that they weren’t on display. He placed her clothes underneath her toiletry bag, and tried not to stare down at her damp cleavage as he handed them to her.

A tiny white towel was wrapped around her body, and Azriel knew that with one tug the knot would be undone and the towel would be on the floor.

“Thanks.” Elain breathed, opening the door to accept the pile Azriel stuck out for her.

“Need anything else?” Azriel asked, his voice unnecessarily husky.

Her cheeks turned pink, but she shook her head and said, “No, thank you,” and closed the door.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Her damp feet pattered over the wood floors, her body still damp and humid from her shower, and sunk onto the bed, her eyes trained on Azriel who looked at her from the overly stuffed chair by the window. She still couldn’t see past the snow coming down outside.

“What now?” Elain asked, tucking her feet underneath herself.

“Well,” Azriel teased. “By the looks of it, you’re ready for bed.”

Elain rolled her eyes.

“I think that after your shower,” She smiled at him. “You should start reading to me again since this place doesn’t have a television, and then we order down for room service for dinner.”

“Hungry already?” Azriel asked, his eyebrow tilting upwards.

“No,” She said firmly “But I will be. Eventually. And I bet they have amazing desserts here.” Elain smiled at her, knowing his weakness for sweets.

Azriel didn’t bother to hide the smile playing on his mouth and pushed himself to his feet.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Somehow they ended up under the covers. Elain’s soft body pressed into his warm one as they were both sitting propped up against the headboard, pillows cushioning their backs, and the soft glow of the lamp illuminating the room, along with the moonlight reflecting off of the white snow outside their window.

Azriel’s dark, silky voice carried through the quiet of the night.

He didn’t even startle when her cold feet tucked into his for warmth. Azriel just shifted so that they were more comfortable.

“...During the whole of this time Scrooge had acted like a man out of his wits. His heart and soul were in the scene, and with his former self…” Azriel wet his lips and shut the book, causing Elain to furrow her brow and raise her eyes at him.

“What is it?” Elain asked.

“Silly as it may be,” Azriel started. “After a few hours of reading I need some water.”

Elain felt her eyes widen at his words and said, “Hours?” in disbelief. She pulled herself away from his warmth and checked her phone, ignoring the messages from her family and focusing on the fact that it was closing in on eight. Well past dinner time.

“You must be starving,” Elain said, crawling closer to him with her phone still tucked into her hand. “Should we call down for dinner?”

Azriel nodded in agreement, and leaned over to grab the antique phone from the nightstand next to him.

“Think this works?” Azriel asked, eyeing the delicate brass machine.

“For sure,” Elain nodded. “It was probably just made to fit the aesthetic of the place,” She snuggled into his side. “Order me something good.”

Azriel dialed one, and Elain could hear a feminine voice answering his call.

Her mouth watered as Azriel ordered two pot roast dinners, a bottle of wine, bread, chocolate cake, and, most importantly, water.

“I think you’re officially the best orderer,” Elain said, slinking into his side as he took up his initial position, his arm coming out to wrap around her as he picked up the book. “Let me,” She took it from between his fingers. “Until the water comes.”

It only took 30 minutes until a knock interrupted them.

“Already?” Elain asked, setting the book down. Azriel smirked at her before getting up and walking towards the door. Elain found herself sinking into the warmth he left behind on the sheets.

The door was out of her line of sight, but Elain heard Azriel open the door and the brief conversation he had with the woman who brought their food for them — the oddly long conversation that didn’t seem to have an end in sight.

Elain pushed herself out of the bed, the chilled air nipping at her toasty skin, and walked over to the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest.

Azriel was standing at the door, incredibly still in a way that told Elain he was hiding his annoyance, and out in the hallway was a redhead holding their service cart in a deathgrip.

“Is this everything?” Elain asked, sliding up next to Azriel and threading her fingers through his. Azriel relaxed at her touch.

The girl’s teal eyes flashed towards Elain and said, “Hello,” with a strained smile.

“My husband and I are … eager … to continue our night,” Elain said in a too kind voice. “So, I was wondering if this was everything?”

Azriel’s body vibrated with suppressed humor.

“This is everything,” The girl said, pushing the cart to them. They’d have to take her word for it, considering everything was covered in silver domes, but Elain wasn’t going to reach out if anything was forgotten - she didn’t want any more interruptions. She just wanted time with Azriel completely uninterrupted. Luckily, she could see the bottle of wine and water on the bottom shelf of the cart. “Please don’t hesitate to call if you need anything else.”

“Thank you.” Elain said as Azriel pushed the cart further into the room, and shut the door after bidding the girl farewell.

The savory smell of the potroast was mouthwatering, but Elain couldn’t shake the irked feeling of the redhead so obviously lusting after Azriel — and they were in the honeymoon suite.

Elain grumbled as she lifted the silver covers and took in the food. Everything appeared to be in place, and Azriel looked down at her in amusement as she inspected their dinner.

“Everything to your satisfaction?” He asked and Elain felt her cheeks flush at the way he looked at her, knowingly.

“Yes, husband.” Elain grumbled and Azriel threw his head back in laughter, her body prickling at the sound.

His large hands clamped onto her hips and Azriel drew her back into his chest.

“Jealous?” He asked, his lips absurdly close to her ear.

“I don’t see why I should be,” Elain said, shifting on her feet. “I know who’ll you’ll be sleeping with tonight.”

Azriel groaned and buried his head into the crook of her neck.

“You can’t say things like that, Elain.” He spoke into her neck, and Elain could feel his lips moving against her skin.

“And why’s that?” She asked breathlessly.

“We’re trapped in the honeymoon suite with spotty cell phone service and a bottle of wine.” Azriel replied.

“Planning to take advantage of me?”

His fingers tightened on her hips.

“I think it’s the other way around,” Azriel muttered, tearing himself away from her body. “Now, do you want to eat in bed, or should we try to be civilized and eat at the table?” His chin nodding in different directions as he spoke.

“Bed?” Elain asked and watched as Azriel’s eyes darken just a hair.

It was something that that had done time and time again — having dinner in bed together. Usually while watching television, but the honeymoon suite didn’t have one, and from the second they stepped foot into the room they had an unspoken rule about not touching their phones, so as soon as they crawled back into bed (Azriel wheeled the the cart next to his side of the mattress, so he could serve them as he pleased) their conversation ebbed and flowed so that no tension lingered between them.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Most people would have been surprised at how easily and freely Azriel spoke around Elain. And at that the wicked sense of humor Elain let loose around Azriel, and Azriel only. Every once in a while it would slip out around her sisters or his friends, but most of the time it was just reserved for Azriel.

A Christmas Carol was tossed onto the nightstand, far away from any damage it could incur from their food and drink, and Elain and Azriel hunkered back into their original positions. Volleying back hypothetical questions and would you rathers.

“Bullshit!” Elain exclaimed, jerking up right, and narrowing her eyes at Azriel’s amused expression - his eyes gleaming as they crinkled with his hidden laughter. “In no world is Jason Todd a better Robin than Dick Grayson! You’re just saying that to annoy me.”

“Am I?” Azriel laughed, using his fork to steal a potato from her plate, and he stared at her as he chewed smugly.

“Yes,” Elain said, shoving at her shoulder. “You know I have a crush on Nightwing.”

“You don’t have to be so obvious about it.” Azriel said, his dimple indenting his cheek.

“Not everyone tucks away their feelings like you do.” Elain mumbled, settling back into her position by his side.

“Is that what I do?” Azriel asked, his eyes bright with a challenge as he looked at her.

Elain glumly stabbed a carrot and brought it up to her mouth, chewing slowly.

“You tell me.”

After a short pause Azriel asked, “Wine?”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I really don’t see how that’s any of your business.” Elain said, taking a sip from her second glass of wine.

“You don’t?” Azriel asked, his eyes intently peering at her face and she carefully avoided his eyes.

“No, I don’t.” Elain shook her head, careful not to slosh her drink over the edge of the glass.

“You don’t think it’s any of my business how many of my shirts you steal? Do you have any idea how expensive it is to be your friend? You’re lucky I’m not naked right now.”

Elain’s eyes flashed to his at his words, her eyes falling to his torso and made the mental note to start taking even more of his clothes.

“It’s not my fault,” Elain defended herself. “Your clothes are just comfier than mine.”

“Are they?” Azriel asked, his fingers sliding underneath his shirt that hung off of her frame and over the soft skin of her belly.

Elain silently nodded her head, her breath caught in her throat.

“Do you want to know a secret?” Azriel asked, and Elain gave him another slow nod. “I think my shirts look better on you.” He whispered conspiratorially and Elain couldn’t stop the smile taking over her face.

“Do you want to know a secret?” Elain asked, pushing her face closer to his, and Azriel jerked in head in confirmation. “I get sad when your shirts lose their scent. That’s why I always have to steal more.”

“You like how I smell?” Azriel asked darkly, pushing their bodies closer together.

“Mmmmhmm.” Elain confirmed, holding her wineglass close to her chest.

“I love it when you sleep over,” Azriel admitted, his eyes smoldering. “You make my bed smell like jasmine.”

Elain took one more sip of her wine before handing him the glass, silently asked him to put it back on the cart, and Azriel took his cue and placed his glass down next to hers.

“There’s something I’ve been curious about.” Elain admitted quietly as soon as Azriel faced her again.

“What’s that?” He asked curiously.

“Ever since I heard those rumors,” Elain wet her dry lips as she forced the words out. “About you being good with your tongue…I’ve been curious.”

Azriel’s body stilled next to hers.

“Curious about what, Elain?”

“About what it’s like - with you. Guys have gone down on me in the past,” Elain shared, her cheeks burning. “But it was always awkward. It felt like a fish was down there.”

A choking sound ripped through his throat at her words.

“A fish?” Azriel exclaimed, and Elain shoved at his chest.

“You can’t make fun of me!” Elain shrieked before hiding underneath the covers. “Just forget I said anything. I want to go to bed.” Her voice was muffled from the layers of blankets and sheets.

Azriel slowly moved the covers off of her and she looked up at him with wide brown eyes, her face red and flushed, and her golden hair messily tousled over her face and pillow.

“You want me to go down on you, sweetheart?” Azriel asked softly, and Elain nodded her head. He shifted so that he was caging her in with his arms. “Are you wet for me?” She nodded again slowly.

Heat gathered in Azriel’s groin at her admission.

Azriel lifted one hand to slowly tug down her bottoms, so that she was only left in his shirt and her white lace panties. Elain kicked her shorts to the bottom of the bed, silently hoping she didn’t appear too eager.

His large, warm hands cupped her over the lace and Elain shivered at the groan Azriel let out. His eyes shut as if he was savoring this moment and the feel of her. Elain hips moved against his finger, which was rubbing her through the lace, the tip of his finger almost touching her swollen clit.

Needy mewling sounds started escaping from Elain’s lips.

“I can feel how hot and wet your pussy is,” Azriel said, looking at her through half-open, heavy lids. “I bet it tastes fucking delicious.”

“I-I never get this wet.” Elain said, her cheeks burning.

Azriel couldn’t stop the male pride that threatened to tear him apart.

“You only get this wet for me?” Azriel asked, his voice laced with possessiveness and his fingers working overtime.

“Yes.” Elain said, feeling her orgasm mounting, and didn’t even try to hide her disappointment as Azriel stopped his movements.

“Would you rather have my fingers or my mouth?” Azriel asked, his eyes dark.

“Mouth.” Elain mutters, flushing harder as Azriel pulled away her panties, at the wetness that was coming out of her and clung to the lace.

Azriel tossed the scrap of fabric over his shoulders and moved under the covers, and Elain could feel his humid breath dance across her wet center - could feel the shadow of his mouth against her lips.

“Wait!” Elain called out, and Azriel immediately popped up, the blankets over his head as he looked at her with a blank, slightly worried expression.

“Did you change your mind?” He asked evenly, and Elain knew that if she asked, then he would move on and act as if this never happened.

“No,” Elain shook her head. “I just want to see you. Us. This.”

Something shuttered over Azriel’s face, but he nodded and the two of them tossed aside the bedding so that Elain had an unobstructed view.

She leaned back onto her elbow, her chin forward as she looked down.

Azriel spread her legs wide, his large hands on both of her thighs, as his eyes feasted on her dripping core.

His eyes met hers from his position between her legs - his eyes gleaming from lust - and he deliberately ran his tongue up her slit. His eyelids nearly shut in pleasure.

“Ohh.” Elain moaned, her hips arching off the bed, but Azriel kept her in place with his hands.

His tongue repeated the motion and Elain felt herself panting.

Her hands snaked into Azriel’s dark curls, pulling slightly, needing something to grab onto.

Azriel’s eyes darkened at the movement, and coaxed a moan out of Elain and he slowly slid his tongue into her channel.

“Yes.” Elain sighed, her heart pounding as his tongue thrust in and out of her. “Yes.”

He groaned against her, sending vibrations through her core and causing Elain’s hips to jerk.

Azriel pulled back, his lips wet and plump, and brought one hand up to work her with his long fingers.

“You taste so fucking good.” Azriel said breathlessly before diving back to between her legs. Using both his tongue and fingers to tease her into a frenzy - and eventually Azriel stopped trying to control her hips and let Elain ride his face. Her fingers pushing his face deeper into her pussy.

“Fuck,” Elain cursed, as Azriel fingers hit the sensitive spot deep within her. “Right there - yes!” She screamed and his fingers fucked her faster.

Her eyes were clenched as pleasure seeped through her, only to go wide as Azriel took her clit between his lips and sucked hard.

Her toes curled as she came undone.

Her body went limp as her breathing turned harsh as the last of her orgasm rushed through her.

“I - that - thank you, Azriel.” Elain panted, forcing her heavy lids to open as she looked at him.

Azriel licked his lips and he made his way up the bed. His breathing was heavy and there was a noticeably large tent in his pajama pants.

“Don’t thank me,” Azriel said as he laid next to her. His hair stuck in every which way thanks to Elain’s fingers, and he wrapped one hand around her body to press them close together. “I enjoyed that way too fucking much.”

Elain bit down on her lip, her eyes dropping to his pants.

“May I?” She asked in a soft voice.

“Only if you want to.” Azriel said, and Elain met his eyes briefly before cupping him through the flannel of his pants.

He groaned deeply and pressed himself into her hands.

Elain moved her hand to slide beneath the waistband of his pants and exposed his erection - and nearly came again at the sight of it. Its purple head had a bead of pre-cum seeping out of it and she could see veins extending along the shaft before disappearing underneath the fabric.

She licked her lips and ran her hand slowly up and down his length. She knew her fingers couldn’t wrap around it even if she tried, so she slowly stroked him.

Her eyes met his as she worked his erection, and he stared at her so intently, as if he couldn’t believe that Elain’s hands were on him. His breath warmed her face and she could feel his chest moving up and down, but Elain kept her pace steady - squeezing gently every once in a while - but not wanting this moment to end.

“Do you like this?” Elain asked.

“Too fucking much,” Azriel said in a heavy voice. “You’re going to ruin me, sweetheart.”

Elain gasped at his words, her thumb smearing the liquid at the tip of his cock - and that one tiny movement pushed him over the edge. He came, coating her hand as she worked him.

Spent, Azriel tugged her closer to his side, pulling the discarded blankets over their bodies.

Elain held her hand out, his orgasm sliding down her skin, and Azriel was about to apologize but stopped as she brought her hand to her mouth and licked. Her pink tongue collecting his seed, and it took everything in Azriel not to take her right there.

She licked at her hand again, and met his eyes.

“Next time you’ll come in my mouth.”

“If you’re not careful,” Azriel said, leaning to grab a napkin from the cart next to the bed and then took her hand to clean it off. “That’s going to be sooner than you think.”

Elain squirmed next to him.

He tossed the napkin away and turned back to Elain.

“That was magical.” She said quietly, almost sheepishly.

“Better than…fish?” Azriel couldn’t stop himself from asking, and Elain rolled her eyes.

“Much better,” She said, her face bright red. “I’ve never come like that before.”

An arrogant smirk appeared on his face and Elain hid her face in his chest.

“Goodnight.” She murmured, bringing a leg up to wrap around his hips.

Azriel stretched to turn the lamp off, the glow of moonlight on a bed of snow snuck through the curtains, but he soon found himself back to Elain - his hand resting on her soft thigh.

“Good night, sweetheart.” He whispered into her hair.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hehe, I couldn't not post something for the holiday season! You guys know I love Christmas and winter too much not to write something seasonal :) . It's been so long since I've posted that I'm not going to be tagging anyone! Please share if you enjoyed this and let me know your thoughts! I'm wishing all of you a Merry Christmas <3

#elriel #elain x azriel #elain archeron #pro elriel #elriel fanfiction #elriel fanfic #fawnandshadows writing

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imaginespazzi · 6 months

Text

Hold On To Me

Paige holds too much and Azzi holds Paige

(In which a frustrated writer uses her beloved ship to forget about how badly her team played)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff, Angst and a lot of Hurt/Comfort

Words: 2.4K

TW: Mentions of sexual content, light swearing

***

The sound of the buzzer erupts from the computer speakers, as on screen, a jubilant Texas team celebrates as if they’ve won the national championship. Next to Azzi, Caroline lets out another groan followed by a couple of very un-Carol-like choice words. But, Azzi barely hears a thing, her eyes glued to the screen, following every movement of player #5 on the UConn team. Paige's frustration leaks through the screen and Azzi has the urge to plunge her hands through the screen and massage away the creases forming on Paige’s forehead.

Don’t internalise it. This isn’t on you. Azzi thinks, hoping Paige’s ability to read her mind could transcend state borders. But it’s wishful thinking, she knows. Paige was the queen of taking responsibility. She’d be first in line to blame herself even in losses where she’d score 30 points, so it was impossible that Paige wouldn’t take a loss where she only scored 13 points upon herself. Hell, she’d take responsibility for that in a win. That’s just who Paige was, a natural leader who held the weight of the world on her shoulder. And sometimes, too many times, Azzi worried she'd crumble under the pressure of it.

It takes a little over an hour and a half for the phone to ring and it’d be a lie to say Azzi hasn’t been waiting for it. Paige’s name accompanied by their signature pink heart, flashes across the screen.

“Paige,” she says softly. There’s no reply but on the other end, Paige lets out a breath. The bus in the background is filled with noise from the engine and from chatter from the rest of the team but Azzi focuses in on the sound of Paige breathing, erratic and uneven.

“Paige,” she says again, her voice soft and this time Paige lets out a whimper. It’s quiet, so quiet and Azzi knows she’s being careful so no one else can hear it but it rings like an alarm in Azzi’s ear, breaking a part of her heart that only Paige can reach.

“Paige,” she repeats again, “I’m here okay?”

“You’re not,” Paige says finally, her voice hoarse from holding back tears, “you’re not and I wish you were and it’s not fair.”

“I know, I know,” Azzi soothes, her own eyes starting to water, “just hold on for me okay? Just a couple more hours Paige okay and then you can come straight home to me.”

“Okay, okay,” Paige’s breathing is more even now and Azzi can tell she’s calming down, “I don’t know how long it’ll be. It’ll be late Azzi-”

Azzi cuts her off, “no time is too late for you,” and it’s true because when it comes to Paige, time doesn’t exist.

“Don’t hang up yet okay, just,” Paige lets out another breath, “ just stay with me till I get on the plane. Tell me about something, I just wanna hear your voice.”

Azzi can’t help but smile at that. Paige had a way of saying things, without even trying. She leans back into her pillows, getting comfortable, “so I watched a video on how chocolate is made…”

Across the country, Paige rests her head on the ice cold bus window, closing her eyes and letting the soothing lull of her girlfriend’s voice slowly ease away the stress of the game

***

Azzi wakes up to the feeling of feather light kisses being peppered into her neck. A hand is sprawled across the middle of her stomach and the scent of all things Paige engulfs the air.

“Hey,” she begins to speak, but the words are stolen from her mouth by the feeling of Paige’s lips on her. It’s frantic and desperate and Paige pours every emotion from the game into it, scrambling for a release that only Azzi has ever been able to give. Her hands dance around, latching onto Azzi’s waist and giving it a tight squeeze, causing Azzi to gasp into the kiss and at that, Paige smirks. Azzi knows where this is leading and god, there’s never a moment where Azzi doesn’t want Paige, but she knows sex would be a temporary release. They need to talk. Paige needs to talk, even if she doesn’t know it herself but Azzi knows Paige better than even herself. And so just as Paige’s hand starts wandering lower, ready to start a dangerous game, Azzi grabs her wrist.

“No-” she’s cut off again by Paige trying to reclaim her lips but Azzi’s ready for it this time. She dodges it, putting a hand between their lips, “not right now Paige.”

There’s a moment, where the blonde girl stays still, hovering on top of her girlfriend and then a mask of irritation slips on. She rolls off the bed and when she’s standing, in the dim of the night light, Azzi can see tear stains on her cheeks. They’d gotten off the phone almost six hours ago, Azzi doing her best to talk Paige off of a ledge by keeping her distracted, when the flight attendant had said the plane was ready for take off. And as she observed Paige’s face in the light, Azzi knew Paige had spent those six hours spiralling again.

“Why did you even tell me to come over if you didn’t want me,” Paige spits out, anger laced in her tone. Anger, Azzi knows, isn’t directed to her.

“Paige,” she says quietly, sitting up from the half-laid back position she’d fallen asleep in, “come here.”

“No fuck this. I should have just fucking gone home,” Paige says, starting to back away from the bed.

“Jesus christ Paige,” Azzi can’t help the rise in her voice as frustration seeps through, “I can’t walk okay. So I can’t run after you if you leave and I really wish I could because I really don’t want you to leave but I can’t. So can you please just fucking come here,” she says, stretching her arms out as an invite.

There’s a moment where Azzi thinks Paige might leave anyway but then her girlfriend’s face begins to soften. But she doesn’t move towards Azzi.

“I’m being unfair,” Paige says finally.

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m being unfair and I don’t want to be unfair.”

“Paige-”

“I’m being unfair to you. You’re going through so much and you can’t play and I know it’s killing you inside and even though you let me see some of it, I know you hold so much close to you because you don’t want to ruin this season for me. And I’m being unfair because here I am, I’m healthy and I get to play the game I love, the game we love, but I’m still such a mess and you’re always there picking me up and it’s just, I’m being unfair.”

And in that moment it clicks. Azzi understands the sudden hot and cold of the last couple of minutes and it clicks suddenly the maze that Paige had created in her mind. And if it’s possible, Azzi falls in love with Paige a little more. Because sometimes Paige was oblivious to just how beautiful a soul she was, the kind of good-hearted girl that even in her own tragedy, had somehow thought of Azzi first. And Azzi can’t help but stare at the angel in front of her in awe.

“Paige,” she chokes out finally, “baby come here.”

It’s like a dam breaks at the term of endearment. Paige scrambles back onto the bed, rushed yet careful to avoid Azzi’s newly operated knee. She buries her face into the crook of Azzi’s neck, her tears freely falling now. Revelling in the feeling of finally being properly in her girlfriend's embrace, she whimpers as Azzi adjusts them so her arms are wrapped around Paige's waist and their legs are slotted together. Even before they’d realised what they were, Azzi had always known how Paige needed to be held. The brunette comfortingly rubs her palms up and down her girlfriend's back, while whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

“Let it go baby. I’ve got you. I love you,” she whispers to the hiccuping girl who’s holding on to her for dear life, “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

They stay interlocked like that for god knows how long and Azzi’s neck and her shirt are soaked, and her back is a little sore from the position they’re in, but as Paige’s tears slowly start to subside, everything else fades because that's the only thing that matters.

“You’re hot when you’re frustrated,” Azzi says finally, when she feels the mood in the room shift, a smile playing on her lips. Paige’s giggles, face still buried in the crease of Azzi’s shoulder, and it sends a shiver down her spine. There’s nothing quite better than making Paige laugh, well other than making Paige scream that is.

“Was I that obvious?” Paige asks, slowly starting to untangle herself, so Azzi can see her face now. It’s still stained with tears, but the cloudiness is gone, replaced by a sense of calm.

“A little bit but you deserved to be,” Azzi reaches out to stroke Paige’s cheeks and Paige melts into her touch, “you were trying to hold it in for so long, it was bound to come out.”

Paige sighs, turning her body so she and Azzi are now lying side to side. She reaches for the darker skinned girl’s hand and entwines them together. They’ve never been very good at keeping their hands to themselves, always needing a point of contact.

“I was bad today.”

“You were,” Azzi agrees. There was no playing pretend between the two of them. From the beginning, they had always been honest with each other, always held each other accountable and that wasn’t going to change, “but you’re not the only reason we lost. Don’t put this on you.”

“I don’t know what’s happening to us. We had a whole week and I thought we were getting somewhere but then we got out there and everything, everything just collapsed. We couldn’t hit anything. They couldn’t miss anything. And anything they did miss, we definitely didn’t rebound. It was just bad and I,” Paige pauses, scared to say the rest of it, to admit a truth she was trying too hard to ignore.

“It’s just you and me,” Azzi says softly, giving her hand a light squeeze.

With a deep breath, Paige lets it out, “I wanted to get off the floor. I fucking hate being benched, even if sometimes maybe I deserve it, but today, when coach benched me, for a second I, I was relieved. Isn’t that insane? Me? Being happy to be on the bench? Even for a second? That’s not me, Azzi. And it’s not that I expected it to be easy. Even when we had everyone, I knew it was gonna be hard but I loved that too. The challenge of it. But I don’t even know the team that’s on the floor these days and I don’t think they know me either. I didn’t think I could ever be out on the floor with a basketball in my hands and not have fun, but here we are.”

Paige’s words are followed by silence because honestly, Azzi doesn’t know what to say. The team was having problems, you could have never seen a basketball game and you’d know that. And it isn’t that she doesn’t know what those problems are but it’s the solutions to these problems that she doesn’t have. The guilt of not being able to help her team, not being able to help Paige, hits her and she desperately tries not to let it show on her face. It doesn’t work.

“Don’t do that,” Paige says, reaching over with the hand not holding Azzi’s to poke Azzi’s cheeks, “don’t put this on you.”

“Don’t repeat my words back to me.”

“Don’t put me in a position where I have to.”

And that’s all it takes for both of them to smile. It’s always easy when they ‘re with each other. They’ll be having the hardest conversation, but it never gets too much. There’s a moment of quiet until Paige speaks again.

“You didn’t tell me you cried after the Maryland game.”

Azzi freezes at that. That fucking article. She hadn’t meant for Paige to find out about her breakdown and she definitely hadn’t meant for her to find out like that. Her parents had meant well, she knows that, but the minute she’d seen that little bit of information floating around, she knew it was a matter of time before the inevitable confrontation. She’d thought, when Paige hadn’t brought it up almost a week after, that maybe, just maybe, she’d escape it, that even if Paige had seen it, maybe it wouldn’t be brought up. Well, her girlfriend had never been one to just let things go.

“So that’s what brought on the spiral. It wasn’t a big-”

“Azzi I swear if you finish that sentence. You promised you wouldn’t shut me out like that.”

“You were happy Paige,” Azzi holds up a hand when Paige starts to interrupt, “no let me finish okay. Do you know the last time I saw you so fucking happy? It was when we won the final four game one and a half years ago. One and a half years Paige, I waited one and a half years to see you smile like that again, to see your practically glow with happiness. And if I’d told you then, if I told you that watching that game was a shot in the chest, you would have tucked that happiness away for me. I know you would have. But your smile is my favourite thing in the world Paige, and I won’t ever be the one who takes it away. I can’t and you can’t ask me to do it, because as long as you keep smiling, no matter what I’m going through, I’ll be okay.”

Paige’s eyes shine with tears again, but it’s different. Because this time, her eyes glow with happiness and love and adoration. She turns her body and leans across to kiss her girlfriend, savouring the feeling of being so in love and being so loved in return.

“I love you.”’

“I love you more.”

They fall asleep with Paige lying on Azzi’s chest, her leg thrown over Azzi’s and Azzi’s arms wrapped securely around Paige’s waist. And so Paige doesn’t know how the rest of the season will go, how her team will figure it all out. And Azzi isn’t all that sure about anything regarding her knee. But at the end of the day, it’s okay and it’ll be okay. Because as long as they have each other, they’ll be just fine, just as they have been since they were 15, when a blonde and a brunette locked eyes across a basketball court, and found their forever in each other.

***

A/N: I'm ngl, this was a bit of a frustration fic and it's a little all over the place but I think it turned out okay? Also I did edit but I'm sure there's mistakes so oops sorry. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoyed it and it brought y'all some happiness. <3

#pazzi #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #wcbb

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