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altruisticalastor · 2 months

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↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

☒ Summary: "Alastor said we've met before. In the living world. But I seriously don't ever remember meeting him." Angel looked puzzled. "Soo... what do you remember from your life?"

☒ Warnings: fem!reader she/her pronouns used, hurt with no comfort sorry, tons of confusion for alastor and the reader, one kiss, very suggestive language (its from angel- are we surprised?), slight self harming (alastor), blood, tears, arguing, desprate!alastor, toxic themes, split pov (second devider is when alastor's pov starts!)

☒ Word Count: 2,653

"You- WHAT?"

Angel shot up from his spot on your bed. His eyes widened, eyebrows knitting in perplexity.

"I know- I know! It's bad... but I wasn't thinking clearly!" You slumped under Angel's judgemental gaze, pulling your knees up to your chest from where you sat on your bed.

"Toots, there is no way his pussy eating skills are good enough to fuck you that dumb!" You averted your gaze. Heat rose to your cheeks from Angel's crass words.

"Oh, but they are..." You mumbled before you felt two of Angel's hands grip your shoulders, shaking you out of frustration.

"Did you really have to pick an absolute psychopath to be the one to pop your cherry? Toots, you're gorgeous. You could have anyone you want!" You were flustered beyond comprehension as Angel stopped shaking you. Opting to glare at your heated face instead.

"We didn't go all the way! Plus he's the one who's been pursuing me all this time- I didn't get it at first, and I still don't. But-" Your expression morphed into one of contemplation. Angel's jaw went slack as he impatiently awaited your next words. "But what?! Spit it out!"

"He said we've met before. In the living world. But I seriously don't ever remember meeting him." Angel nudged you to the side before slotting himself atop your bed once more. "Soo... what do you remember from your life?"

You froze.

Angel's inquiry filled your mind with more questions than answers.

"I... not much," You paused, turning to face Angel before you continued. "The earliest memory I have is waking up in a hospital bed after surviving a blow to the head from some hunting accident."

You closed your eyes, wracking your brain for every last detail you could remember; no matter how small. "I ended up falling into a coma only days after that mishap. The next thing I know, I'm in fucking hell." You chucked bitterly. Angel let out a laugh of his own.

"No offense, babe, but that has to be one of the saddest fuckin' things I've ever heard," Angel outstretched his legs, overlapping them atop yours. "That accident, what else can you remember about it? Maybe that's the ticket!"

Your eyes shot open from Angel's question. "Wait... before I fell into a coma, there was this nurse- she told me that I was led into the woods by a dangerous fellow," You paused, eyes scanning Angel's wildly as he perched himself forward. Literally hanging on the edge of his seat from your musings.

"She told me the gunshot wound saved my life, fucking ironic now because It ended up killing me anyway. She also said that... the man who took me into the woods was a serial killer who had been on the run for decades. He ended up getting shot in the head that night, also. Except he died instantly..."

Angel was hanging on to every word you uttered. He could see the pieces falling into place from your look of awe. "What was the man's name, toots? What was it?!" Angel shouted a little louder than he intended. You jolted back from his outburst, taking in a shaky breath. You replayed that memory with the nurse over and over again.

She had to have said it at some point.

Come on! Think, think- think!

“Turns out the man you were out in those woods with was a wanted serial killer. That 𝘈⃒̅𝘭⃒̅𝘢⃒̅𝘴⃒̅𝘵⃒̅𝘰⃒̅𝘳⃒̅ fellow was an active murderer for decades! The papers say he was good at steering clear of the cops for all these years. The hunter wasn’t even aiming for you both. His target was a nearby deer.”

"His target was a nearby deer."

A deer...

Again.

Retrace.

"That ɹ̸o̸ʇ̸s̸ɐ̸ʅ̸Ɐ̸ fellow was an active murderer for decades! The hunter wasn’t even aiming for you both. His target was a nearby deer."

Fuck- it was just out of reach.

One more time, one more fucking time.

Think carefully.

"The hunter wasn’t even aiming for That A͊l͖a̪sto̶̸̅r̷̦͍ fellow. His target was a nearby deer."

You gasped sharply, startling Angel. You felt your heart sink into your stomach as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place.

"Alastor... his name was Alastor."

Your voice was distant as you spaced out. Angel's face blurred out of focus through your line of sight.

"You've got to be fuckin' kidding me. That freak was going to kill you when you were still alive-? And now... you belong to him? Shit- toots! This is rough... and not the good kind of rough."

Alastor sat at the piano. Staring at the keys with that ever-present smile— but not daring to strike a tune.

You’ve been avoiding him again.

What was it going to take for you to realize that he was your fiancé on earth?

Sure, his features were more creature than man, but at the end of the day; Alastor was still the same man you fell in love with.

Maybe he should have held off from his… desires.

Could you blame him, though? He’s been waiting nearly a century to be reunited with his beloved.

You’re the person he thought about for all these lonely years in hell. The only solace for Alastor was the notion that you survived, lived a long happy life, and inevitably made it to the pearly gates.

So imagine his despair when you showed up at the Hazbin Hotel, looking to be redeemed.

Alastor recognized you immediately. He could spot that grin of yours in a crowd of billions.

Smile at the world, and she smiles back at you.

But— you didn’t even spare him the time of day. Alastor gave you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you just needed some time to reignite your memory.

And so, he gave you time. You’ll come around, Alastor thought.

But he couldn’t have been more wrong, as much as he hated to admit it.

He grew impatient— losing all of his resolve when you admitted to his voice reminding you of home.

Alastor presumed maybe a passionate encounter would jumpstart your adoration for him. You had never breached that level of intimacy when you both were alive. You were adamant about waiting until marriage, but those dreams never came true.

Yet even still, it was not enough.

Was he really that forgettable to you?

Suddenly, a knock on his door pulled him from his stupor. Alastor quickly cleared his throat, straightening his bowtie and taking steps toward his door.

The second he swung the door open, he was met by the person who invaded his every thought; you.

“What a pleasant surprise! Come in, my dearest.” Alastor piped up, stepping aside to let you into his safe haven.

Your face was devoid of any vibrancy, and your eyes frantically avoided his. Alastor watched you closely as you hesitantly stepped past the threshold of his space.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Alastor hummed as he shut the door before turning on his heel to face you.

You rubbed at the sleeve of your dress nervously. Alastor’s mind instantly flashed the memory of your first meeting.

The sight of you soothing yourself with a gentle caress to your bicep. Clammy hands seeping perspiration through that gorgeous vermilion dress of yours.

“I-I remember you…” Your voice was barely above a whisper. Legs trembling from where you stood before him.

Your words caused Alastor’s heart to race wildly.

At long last— you remember him!

“I knew you would, my smart girl! Ah- you have no clue how elated I am to finally hear those words leave your lips!” He invaded your personal space without missing a beat.

Alastor’s eyebrows knitted in confusion as you dodged his hand— that had full intention of clasping around your cheek.

“Don’t… don’t touch me.” Your voice was shrill as you took a step back from him.

Alastor took one step forward.

“My darling, why are you being so cold? You know how much I loathe teasing.” Alastor forced out a chuckle as you took two steps back.

Alastor took three steps forward this time.

“You’re sick! You’re the one who’s been teasing me all this time— how dare you?!” You spat, raising your hands to push him away, but to no avail.

Alastor grasped your wrists with his large palms. He gazed down at you with a frenzied look, grip tightening scarcely around your wrists. “Darling… this isn’t funny anymore.” His voice was low, and the corners of his lips twitched in irritation.

“It never was funny to begin with! I mean, how could you try to kill me on earth and then think it’s okay to fool around with me in hell?!” You glared up at him, tears of frustration now rolling down your cheeks.

Alastor’s grip loosened from your words. He was utterly astonished. "You think I... tried to kill you?" His voice was quiet, crimson orbs frantically searching yours.

You grimaced at him, rolling your eyes before you shouted, "You led me out into the woods, and the next thing I know, I'm in the hospital with a gunshot wound to the head and no memories before waking up in a stiff hospital bed! Everything I know about you and the accident was spoon-fed to me by some crappy nurse!"

Alastor's smile dropped. He wasn't even aware of the frown that crossed his features. The only giveaway was the absence of that standard achy feeling in his cheeks from holding an everlasting grin. "Darling, I-I'm not following... you mean to tell me you... don't remember your life before that mishap?"

You looked puzzled by Alastor's uncharacteristic display of distress. His hands slipped from your wrists as he wobbled backward. "Yeah, and It's your fault! If you didn't haul me out into those woods to kill me, I would still remember who I was! And my whole life before all this bullshit!"

You took a step forward.

"I would remember my family, my career, if I even fucking had one! I would remember my joyful memories, my painful ones, and— and- maybe I would remember somebody who actually loved me!" You furiously glared up at him. Pointing your index finger into his chest in an accusatory fashion.

Alastor snapped at your last words.

Somebody who actually loved you?

It was him.

It was always him.

Was his love for you really that immemorable?

"You truly aren't joking... you... don't remember me." Alastor felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. You were the last thing keeping it intact. All that he felt in his chest now was your blunt fingernail piercing his skin from where you jabbed him.

"I just told you I do! What the fuck are you talking about?!" Alastor could tell your patience was wearing thin. You were probably just as confused as he was but for all the wrong reasons.

Alastor's arms fell limp against his sides. Yet his fists were balled up so tightly that he could hear the pitter-patter of his blood spilling onto the carpet from how deeply his nails sunk into the flesh of his palm.

You weren't ever going to believe the truth, but Alastor still needed to try.

"My dearest... that is not how we met. And my intentions were not and never will be to end your life." Alastor paused, taking in a shaky breath before continuing.

"You're frustrated about not remembering somebody that loved you, yes? As am I..." You tilted your head in confusion. Finally pulling your finger away from his wounded chest. "What the fuck are you trying to say, Alastor?" Your voice was laced with annoyance, and your scowl was unwavering.

"Darling, that somebody that loved you was me-and still is. It will always be me," Alastor paused, hands now finding purchase on your shoulders. "That accident should have never happened! We were scheduled to be wed at the courthouse later that evening... but... we never... made it..."

Why were his cheeks burning unbearably so?

And why was your countenance blurring before his very eyes?

Alastor's grip on your shoulders was unwavering, but his hands now trembled. Your expression was one of perplexity as you shook your head incredulously. "I loved you in life and now in death. I've loved you all this time, my sweet girl. Nothing will ever change that! Please, I beg of you- you must believe me!"

The definitive radio static crackle to his voice was nowhere to be found. Instead, his voice was laced with desperation. You looked disoriented through his blurry gaze as you took a weary step back.

Alastor felt wetness trickle down his burning cheeks.

Oh, he was... crying?

The last time he wept was when he first arrived in this grim place otherwise known as Hell. The realization that he left you on earth all alone tore him up. Alastor was inconsolable for years.

You truly knew how to put him together just to rip him apart all over again, huh?

There is no undoing grander than love itself.

"I-I don't believe you..." Your voice was just above a whisper as you slipped out of his grasp and approached the doorway. You turned your back on him, literally and metaphorically.

Alastor didn't miss a beat. He rushed to you, large palm slamming flat against the wooden door. "We worked at the same radio station! Your bitch of a friend Elaine and her parents took you in after your pill-addict parents abandoned you on your eleventh birthday!"

You let out a sharp gasp as he hovered over you. Alastor couldn't read your expression, with your face practically pressing into the wooden door. All he could see was the top of your head as he pushed his chest into your rigid back. His arm was outstretched, keeping the door shut and caging you in entirely.

"It was love at first sight for me! We went dancing for our first date. Did you truly fail to notice how effortlessly we moved along the dancefloor at Charlie's last gathering? It's because deep down, your body remembers every dance we ever shared,"

Alastor flipped you over faster than you could process. Your back was now flush against the sturdy door, his arm still caging you in. He peered down at you as his thumb and index finger from his non-dominant hand grasped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Every lingering touch..."

He felt you tremble beneath his intense stare from how his chest now squashed against yours. Alastor's face dipped lower, invading your personal space. He brushed the tip of his nose against yours, breath fanning over your tear-stained cheeks.

"And every kiss..."

Alastor observed you desperately as he pressed his lips against yours. He poured all his love into the shared embrace, hoping it would jumpstart your memory. But instead, you just shoved him away harshly, breaking away from his embrace. Alastor felt his world crumble around him as you wiped his kiss away with the back of your hand.

"You're fucking crazier than I thought!" With Alastor still reeling from the rejection, you took your leave. The sound of the door slamming thundered through his head.

Alastor sunk to his knees. His hands came up to tug at his messy tufts of hair. Allowing the tears to flow freely now that he was completely alone.

Alastor did not think you were capable of hurting him until now.

Alastor yanked at his locks furiously as his cheeks burned brightly in frustration. His knees quivered as his forehead kissed the carpet that was stained with his blood from earlier—when he unintentionally ripped up his palms. Alastor curled in on himself as he wept.

This pain was worse than any other.

But more than anything, his love for you only burned brighter.

As did his determination to have you remember him and the pleasant life you both shared before all was lost.

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celtic-crossbow · 9 months

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Skin You With My Tongue

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria

Warnings: Poorly written smut, p in v, fingering, oral (fem rec), brief hand job

Summary: What has gotten into Daryl? It doesn’t matter because you like it!

A/N: I haven’t been feeling great but I wanted to finish this before taking a break. Then I’ll work on my last request. Once again, I don’t think it’s great but ah well. I’m trying to just be thankful to be writing again. I hope some enjoyment comes from it!

You had no idea how you’d ended up in your current predicament: flat on your back, naked, with an equally naked Daryl Dixon devouring you like a man starved. You weren’t complaining by any stretch of the imagination. Though he had claimed to have little experience, the man deserved medals for the sounds he was wringing out of you with his tongue.

Anyway, back to the question of how did you end up here?

The day had started like any other. Your group was still new to Alexandria. While most had been given jobs, you and Daryl had not yet been set to work by Deanna. So, Rick had easily agreed to letting you both go hunt. Daryl had refused to give up his crossbow when you had first arrived in the community, but you had to sign out a weapon.

“Bullshit.” Daryl growled from where he leaned against the doorframe of the armory. You couldn’t say that you didn’t agree with him.

Regardless, you played by the rules, got your gun, strapped the weapons to the back, and climbed onto Daryl’s bike. He had decided the two of you could go further out today, not having much luck the past couple of days in the direct vicinity.

Daryl was your closest friend in your tight knit group and had been since you all had been forced to wander around in the cold before the prison. He was difficult to read and his emotional walls were high and thick. Somehow, you had been able to scale those walls, if not shatter them completely. You accepted him without question but you didn’t take any shit from him either. You weren’t afraid to call him out. In fact, the first time he had willingly come to sit next to you by the fire was just after you had asked him if he was “violating the Georgia sodomy law by having his head that far up his own ass.” You’d been close ever since.

You wrapped your arms tightly around his stomach and rested your chin on his shoulder, making kissy noises at him when he glanced back at you.

“Stop.” He grumbled before starting up the motorcycle. You simply gave his midsection a squeeze and could practically feel him roll his eyes as you headed through the gate.

The first part of the day was uneventful. Daryl stashed the bike before you walked and walked, finding nothing to track. About midday, the two of you came across a gorgeous lake. The water was clear and having only crossed two walkers on your trek there, you decided that a swim was an excellent idea after lunch. You didn’t ask Daryl, truly figuring he wouldn’t mind and that, hell, maybe he’d even join you.

You didn’t look at him as you stripped down to your bra and panties, mismatched as they were. If you had, you would have seen him comically fumble and drop the piece of dried meat in his hand.

“The blue hell ya doin’, girl?” He snapped after righting himself.

“Cooling off.” You gave him a smile over your shoulder before mimicking his frown with added exaggeration. “Maybe you should do the same, you old grump.”

He scoffed, keeping his eyes averted. “You’re bein’ careless. Careless gets ya dead.”

“I’m not going in unprotected!” You spun toward him, drawing his gaze toward you before pointing to the small knife tucked securely between your breasts. You couldn’t help but laugh when his face reddened and he looked away so quickly that you could swear you heard his neck crack. “I won’t be long.”

And you weren’t. Barely twenty minutes later, you were sitting down next to him, fully clothed albeit damp, but feeling much better.

“Ready to head out?” You asked cheerfully.

He did not share your enthusiasm, scowling as he stood and secured his crossbow to his back. “Been ready.”

“Well, aren’t you just a bucket of sunshine?” He had already stalked off by the time you gathered up everything. You had to sprint to catch up.

After a couple of hours, Daryl finally caught the trail of a deer and began tracking it. You followed quietly, watching his methods and learning everything you could. You knew how to hunt, thanks to him, but you were always eager to sharpen your skills. When the animal was finally within sight, the archer kneeled after signaling for you to stand still just beside him. He was lining up the shot when something caught his eye to the right of where you stood.

“Get down!” He whispered sharply, grabbing your arm and pulling. The sudden jerk caught you off guard and you were thrown off balance, crashing into him. He fell flat on his back with you on top, your palms on either side of his head with your chest almost directly in his face. With half a dozen walkers shuffling into the area, you couldn’t move lest you be detected.

The deer sensed the danger and ran, the group of undead following mindlessly. As they passed where you and Daryl hid, you instinctively lowered, feeling his breath against your shirt. It took several minutes for the threat to move far enough away that you felt comfortable to lift yourself up and sit back, effectively placing your ass on his stomach.

“Well, that sucks. That was a big doe.” You complained. When he didn’t comment, you looked at him. He was propped up on his elbows, looking anywhere but at you. His face and neck were flushed all the way to the tips of his ears. “You okay?” You queried with general concern.

“M’fine. Can ya get offa me?”

“Oh. Right.” You stood quickly, as did he. His back was quickly turned to you.

“We’re done. Let’s go.”

Your head tilted, brow creased in confusion. “We’ve got hours of daylight left. Shouldn’t we—”

“Said we’re done.” He was already walking away, leaving you staring at his back and wondering what you’d done wrong.

The ride back was tense and silent. You even chose to just lightly place your hands below his ribs and keep some space between your bodies instead of how you would usually have a tight hold on him.

When you entered Alexandria, Daryl parked the bike and got off, leaving you there, confused and more than a little upset. He passed Rick by without a word, the former sheriff turning to look at you with an eyebrow cocked. You gave him a shrug.

“I have no idea.” Shaking your head, you grabbed the gun from where it was secured to the back and went to sign it in before returning to the home you shared with Daryl and Carol. He was nowhere to be found on the first floor, leaving you to assume he had retreated to his room in the basement. With a heavy sigh, you went upstairs to shower.

Evening was upon you before you knew it, the sun having only set a few minutes before Carol invited you to walk to the other house for dinner with the group. You weren’t feeling all that hungry so you told her you’d be there in a few minutes. It was a lie. You had no intention of leaving your room.

Turning over onto your side, you closed your eyes. You had just drifted off when there came another knock. “Ugh.” You groaned and threw back the blankets, remaining in just your tank top and underwear since you didn’t plan on leaving with her. “Carol, I really don’t—” Once the door opened, you screeched to a halt, meeting the impossibly blue eyes of your favorite bowman. “Daryl.” You blinked at him blankly.

“Hi.” He nearly whispered. “Can I, uh—?” He gave a vague motion toward the inside of your room.

“Right. Uh, yeah, right, sure.” You stammered while stepping aside. He stepped in and you turned to push the door closed, a gasp leaving your mouth when you felt him press himself against your back. “D-Daryl?”

“First, the lake. Then your tits in my face when the walkers came. An’ now—this?” His finger was tracing the outline of your panties over your hip.

“What? I didn’t—”

He growled, a low sound in his throat, as he spun you around and pressed you back against the door with his body. He grabbed your chin to force your gaze on him.

“Didn’t what? G’on. Tell me.”

“Daryl, I didn’t mean anything by any of that.” You gulped, though you weren’t afraid. Exactly the opposite. Heat and wetness was pooling at your core, your skin feeling electrified where he was touching you. Nevertheless, you couldn’t lie to him. “I really wasn’t trying to fuck with you, I swear.”

There was an instant change in his eyes and it broke your heart. He released you with a muttered “shit,” his hand rubbing at the back of his neck. The dim light of your bedside lamp was enough for you to see his face reddening and the slight tremble to his frame.

“Y/N, I—fuck—m’sorry.” He quickly attempted to sidestep you and reached for the doorknob, but you were faster and blocked his path. His head shot up, eyes wide and panicked. He had absolutely misread the day’s happenings but he wasn’t wrong on one thing.

“I wasn’t intentionally fucking with you.” You repeated, your tongue snaking out to wet your lips before you continued. “But I would have if I had known it’d end with you here like this.” His arm dropped away from the knob and you entered into his space, pressing your chest against him to hover your lips over his. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Daryl Dixon.”

And now you were here.

“Fuuuuck!” You moaned, pressing the back of your head into the pillow before raising it to look down at the man between your thighs. Your fingers twisted and tugged his hair as your hips rolled, grinding your cunt against his tongue. Daryl growled against your clit, the sound vibrating against the swollen nub. His large hands pressed down on your inner thighs, holding you open while also effectively rendering you immobile.

A whine slipped past your lips when his tongue once again pressed tightly against you, sweeping up and down before he closed his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucked. You tried to lift your hips but he pressed down harder, his nails biting into your skin. He removed his mouth from you, dark eyes glaring from just above your mound.

“Be still.”

His gravelly voice was even lower, darkened with lust and demand. You found you couldn’t help but obey. Breathing through your nose, you nodded eagerly. He kept his gaze locked on your face while his right hand lifted from your thigh, fingertips whispering over your flesh to dance down to your core. He ran a single digit through your slick once…twice, never breaking eye contact.

Your hands left his hair and fisted into the sheets of your bed, but otherwise, you remained frozen in place, panting through the pleasure of stretching around his middle finger breaching your opening. He slid in to the first knuckle, then the second, pausing only briefly before pushing in all the way. The sound that left your throat was positively sinful. You dropped your head back to the pillow and focused on not moving.

“Good girl.” He praised you, rewarding you by drawing his digit almost all the way out before sinking back inside, thus beginning a steady rhythm of which he continued. When you remained unmoving, he lowered his head once again to lavish attention onto your clit.

Who was this man? This was a completely new Daryl. In control, demanding, vocal, and positively panty-dropping. A new part of him for you to accept and adore. A part of him that, to your knowledge, only you had seen. One that you definitely hoped you would see again and again!

“Daryl, fuck!” You cried out when his index finger joined the first. You shivered almost violently when you felt him smile against your pussy.

“In a minute.” He purred, pumping into you faster.

Your hands moved from the sheets to the headboard, palms flat to keep the thrusts of his hand from pushing you upward. The moans and cries were constant, his mouth and fingers igniting a fire low in your belly. The knot was twisting tighter and tighter, and you grit your teeth when you felt the sparks of it begin to shoot down to your toes and up into your chest.

“Nngh, Daryl! I’m—” You panted, eyes screwed shut and legs trembling. He curled his fingers, driving them against that soft spot inside you mercilessly while his tongue and teeth tortured your clit. Just when you thought you might die from the pleasure of it all, that knot in your belly pulled taunt and snapped. Wave after wave of euphoria traveled through you, broken moans of his name tumbling from your lips like a mantra. You had grabbed his hair again at some point, holding him against your center with your thighs attempting to trap him there. He didn’t seem to mind, too busy eagerly lapping at the nectar you spilled while riding your high.

When you went limp against the mattress, he pulled his fingers from within you, leaving you to whine at the emptiness they left behind. You were still pulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm when he pressed one last kiss against your sensitive clit before sitting up on his knees. You blinked away the haze in your vision to watch him suck on those two fingers that had just fucked you senseless, your juices still glistening on his face.

You weren’t sure what came over you but you dove forward almost clumsily while he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. He caught you easily with the other arm and pulled you against his chest, your arms encircling his neck to pull his lips to yours. The kiss was desperate, all tongues and teeth. The absolute need to be close to him in that moment was something you couldn’t explain. When you pulled back to look at him, your pupils blown wide and lips swollen, it was as if he understood before your sex-addled brain could form any words.

“I gotcha, girl.” Daryl said softly, a contradiction to how he had commanded you only moments prior. You nodded and let him kiss you again. It was tender this time, slow and deliberate. The archer began to lay you back. He caught himself with one arm while the other stayed behind your head to control your descent until you were once again on the pillows.

His mouth left yours and began to roam across your jaw. He nuzzled his cheek against yours in a way that you found absolutely adorable but then he was pressing open-mouthed kisses below your ear. Large hands traveled to your chest to cup both of your breasts, calloused fingers exploring the supple mounds before settling to roll your pebbled nipples between them. He kissed his way down, that sinful mouth eager to take over worshiping that part of you.

“Daryl,” you gasped, arching up into him when his mouth closed around your right nipple, “mmmm, Daryl, please!” You could feel his erection against your thigh, hot and hard and yet completely ignored. “Please—” you tried again, the plea coming out more like a pathetic whine.

“I know whatcha want.” He murmured against the skin between your breasts. He latched onto your left nipple with his teeth while his left hand took over stimulating the right. “Whatcha need.” You did the only thing you could and twisted your fingers into his hair, drawing your bottom lip in between your teeth with a quiet whimper. His touch left you suddenly and you opened your eyes to find him directly above you and lowering down until his lips were just barely touching yours. “But I wantcha to say it anyway.” You felt every syllable against your mouth, the simple action enough to make your cunt clench around nothing. Goddamn, this man knew how to play your body like an instrument.

His fingers were ghosting down your left side only for his hand to maneuver between your bodies. Grasping his cock, he slid it through your folds, gathering your juices in agonizingly slow strokes. Each time the tip of him grazed your clit, your back arched from the mattress with a cry on your lips.

“Say it.”

“I want you, Daryl.” You whined, anchoring your legs around his hips. You dug your heels into the skin just below his ass in a desperate attempt to pull him into you. Too bad he was much stronger than you.

He hummed in response but only began to stroke himself, spreading your slick along his shaft. “Tell me whatcha want me to do, girl.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. You were going to literally combust if he wasn’t inside you at that moment. You weaved your arms underneath his and pulled at him. “Fuck me, Daryl. Please, please, fuck me!”

He chuckled. The asshole actually chuckled but you didn’t care because he then immediately entered you in one fluid motion, burying himself to the hilt. His arms nearly gave out as your wet heat welcomed him, stretching and molding to his cock as if your body was made just for him. He groaned, dropping his head to your shoulder but you were too far gone to notice. The pleasurable burn of accommodating him brought you to new heights. You almost came right on the spot.

“Fuck.” He breathed against your neck, fighting to keep himself in check.

After you both had a moment, Daryl pushed himself up onto his forearms, drawing back his hips slowly before snapping forward and earning a broken moan from you. The feeling of him moving inside you was overwhelming, the push and pull driving every thought from your mind to leave only the ability to feel. And you wanted more.

You clawed at his back, each thrust forward tearing a cry from your throat. You barely registered that his mouth was on yours, but responded immediately, craving the taste of him. The smoke and pine mingled with the taste of your cunt on his tongue and you couldn’t get enough. You swallowed his delectable moan when your hips came up to meet this thrusts, the sound of wet skin slapping echoing off the walls of your room. Bringing a hand to his hair, you pulled his head back, pussy clenching when the action made him hiss between his teeth.

Teeth met his skin, biting down just above his collar bone. The salty taste brought a moan into your throat. You marked him there, sucking hard until you brought blood to the surface and then you released him. “You—feel so good.” You panted before your mouth was back on his. He pulled back suddenly and you whined at the loss of his weight but then he was sitting back on his knees, grabbing your hips and fucking into you so hard that you saw stars. It was just on the good side of painful, your cunt spasming around his cock as the familiar heat began to build in your belly.

Daryl didn’t stay that way way long. He released your hips and leaned forward to use the headboard as leverage, pounding you with such force that you again had to brace yourself with your palms. Your cries mixed with his moans and grunts and you prayed that Carol was still away. The angle was intense, each thrust had his tip pressing roughly against your sweet spot, building your pleasure at a pace you wished would slow.

“Daryl, I’m—I’m gonna—” you couldn’t get the words out between breaths and moans, but he knew from the way you tightened around him that you were nearing the precipice. And he was determined to throw you over the edge first.

He released the headboard and grabbed your arms, yanking you up while he sat back on his heels. You grabbed for his shoulders and then encircled his neck, resting one hand on the back of his head and the other on his shoulder blade. He moved his hands to your hips, helping you to bounce on him, spearing yourself on his cock and driving it deeper. Your moans became pleas and then a chant of his name, mouth hanging agape between words and breaths and eyes screwed shut.

“Cum for me.” He grunted against your jaw and that was all it took. You were almost certain you screamed but you couldn’t hear it, vision blacking out as euphoria swallowed you. You came back to yourself as the waves began to ebb, Daryl continuing to fuck you through. Your body felt heavy and uncoordinated and you pulled back a bit to clumsily seek out his mouth, greedily drinking down each sound he offered as he chased his own release. His grip on your hips would leave bruises, but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

His movements grew sloppy and you could feel him beginning to twitch and pulse inside you. You pulled your mouth from his and watched him until he pulled you from his lap. You moved quickly, aware of his actions, and wrapped your hand around him, pumping him fast and hard. He pressed his forehead against yours, his hands gripping your thighs while he fought to breathe through the sensation. His teeth were clenched and his eyes tightly closed, sweat shining on his skin and you were sure it was the sexiest thing you had ever seen.

Half a dozen more strokes before you twisted your hand and he cried out, muscles freezing and face contorting into a grimace of pure ecstasy. He breathed out your name, hips jerking and ropes of cum painting your hand and both of your thighs. No, that was the sexiest thing you had ever seen.

You pulled his mouth to yours before he could come all the way down, relishing each twitch of his muscles. When you pulled away, he finally opened his eyes and swayed on the spot. He seemed dazed but when his gaze met yours, he leaned forward to kiss you. It was gentle, almost hesitant. As if he didn’t know whether or not you’d welcome it.

“That was amazing.” You whispered, finally catching your breath.

“Yeah.” He replied quietly.

You brought a hand to the side of his face, watching all the courage melt away. His already flushed face was growing impossibly redder. You couldn’t help but smile. He had been dominant and commanding only to morph right back into the Daryl you had fallen in love with.

Your eyes widened.

Shit.

You were in love with him.

You were actually in love with Daryl.

You didn’t move when he got up to grab a towel, slipping on his boxers while he was at it. You still didn’t move as he cleaned you up, his mouth moving once he was done but no sound registering. He snapped his fingers in front of your face and you flinched.

“What’d you say?”

“Ya okay?” His brow was drawn inward in concern. He looked so, so nervous and you just wanted to pull him onto the bed and hold him.

“Yeah, I’m great.” You beamed.

He nodded and worried his bottom lip between his teeth, glancing over at his clothes. “Guess I should go.”

Your face fell as he reached for his pants. “Why?” Daryl froze and looked at you, head tilted. “You could stay. Here. With me.” You offered, your own face reddening. He stayed in the awkward position of halfway reaching toward his shirt but was obviously considering your words.

“Ya want me to stay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I really do.” You smiled sincerely. He nodded and straightened, coming back around to the other side of the bed. He sat stiffly against the headboard, chewing his lip again. You started to lean against him when there came a soft knock at the door. You both looked up and then at one another.

Busted.

You both scrambled to get dressed and it would have been comical had you not been thinking of who could be on the other side of the door. Carol. Rick. Michonne. Oh god, Carl! You looked back at him just as he pulled his shirt over his head, an apologetic expression on your face. Turning the knob and pulling the door open, you smiled innocently at—

No one.

“What the—” You leaned out and looked down each hall to find them empty. However, at your feet were two wrapped plates of food. One with a note addressed to Daryl and the other to you. In Carol’s handwriting.

You looked around for the woman once more while picking up the plates and stepped back into the room, kicking the door shut. Eyebrows raised, you crossed the space to hand Daryl his and then placed yours on the bed, removing the note and unfolding it.

“Good for you. Now tell him that you love him.”

You almost laughed but held it, simply folding your note and putting it in your bedside drawer. Daryl was looking at his own with a raised brow before he folded it and put it in his pocket.

“M’starvin’.” He announced, plopping onto your bed while unwrapping his food. He watched you smile and follow suit, gaze lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

His note?

“Don’t be stupid, Pookie. She loves you too.”

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

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vasilissadragomir · 5 months

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one of the most heart-wrenching things about thg universe is that you feel the loss of who each character would be outside the circumstances of their birth almost as acutely as you feel the loss of the characters themselves.

sure, we know what lucy gray and her family would be doing in a different world; she’d be dancing and singing and making music which defines a cultural identity. but what about the others? would haymitch have been a hilarious, loving father with a family had he not been forced to survive 47 other children’s brutal deaths? would finnick have been a charismatic and beloved actor, bringing joy to immeasurable people on his own terms? would beetee and wiress have worked together to develop technology to make it easier to connect loved ones far and wide? what would reaper and annie have given to the world, or thresh, or rue, or even coral or cato or glimmer or clove?

if katniss wasn’t half-starving and forced to spend each day hunting to feed her family, would archery be her true passion? or if she’d been a well-sustained little girl with access to art supplies, would she have spent her time sketching captivating dresses? she picks up ropes and making fish hooks quickly—could her dexterity have lent itself to knitting, sewing, or crocheting with vibrant yarns and fabrics? there’s so much evidence that katniss finds clothing inspiring and empowering, even when she dismisses it as frivolous. she likes being pretty, she just hates the circumstances under which she’s made to look pretty. cinna shows her that beauty has its own power, and there are several moments in her interactions with cinna and his designs that make me wonder who she’d be if she had space for art and creativity in her life.

conversely, peeta has had art in his life since he was a small child, but for him, art has always been entangled with his trauma. he could bake and decorate well because he learned from his mother, a mother who beat him his whole life. but his talent grows, not only as a survival tool in the first games, but when he paints rue on the floor of the training center before the second games. his art becomes not only a symbol of his trauma, but a means of resistance and solidarity. in a world where peeta’s intrinsic kindness and loving heart had been nurtured and welcomed rather than abused, could he have been a painter, helping people find collective meaning in the simple realities of life?

could katniss and peeta have still found each other in another world, a world without the horrors they were raised with, and bonded over their love of art? could they have been each other’s muses?

maybe they find their way to share art, after the events of mockingjay, as part of their process of healing and falling in love with each other. when they’re finally safe and have been for a long time, maybe katniss fashions peeta an easel for him to paint in their living room. after months of watching him gaze out the window and paint the changing leaves, katniss takes to knitting on a rocking chair in the other corner of the living room to steady her restless hands. they work silently as the days go by, quietly exchanging the things they’ve made to give each other the reassurance and love neither could ever fully convey with words.

and maybe one day, when they learn there’s a baby on the way due in midwinter, katniss takes a page from peeta’s sketchpad and starts to plan a series of sweaters and hats and socks she can knit for the baby. and peeta goes to the little nursery upstairs and starts working on a mural, so the baby will have something beautiful to look at every day. they work together to design the perfect baby blanket for their child, to ensure they will always be wrapped in a layer of protection and love by their parents.

but even if they find creativity and beauty in their lives after the end of mockingjay, the art they make will simply never be what that art could have been had they not faced what they faced. art comes from suffering, yes, but the human condition has so much suffering as is, and we’d never know what kind of art they’d make if they hadn’t experienced trauma of a distinctly sadistic and inhuman nature. but maybe their children, raised in a better world with love and protection and safety and joy and creativity and expression, will be the ones to create the art peeta and katniss never could.

#thg #the hunger games #hunger games #katniss #peeta #everlark #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #haymitch abernathy #cinna #lucy gray #lucy gray baird #thg analysis #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #finnick odair #annie cresta #catching fire #mockingjay

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mrs-weasley-reid · 1 month

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Suit Jacket

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader

part 2 | Invitation Letter

Summary: Aaron Hotchner seems to love his suit jacket on you.

Warning: Nothing besides a few curses (I think)

A/N: not my gif, ctto! This was also sitting on my drafts for almost a year and barely proofread, so I apologize for the errors.

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Sunday, March 11, 2:04 AM

"Thanks, unibrow." You grinned drunkenly, smiling at your boss, SSA Aaron Hotchner, as you collapsed in the cab's backseat. His suit jacket kept you cozy and covered like a cocoon while you comfortably giggled at the applied inside joke of his new nickname.

With Penelope's constant peer pressure, your inhibition has reached rock bottom eleven shots, five cocktails, and two whiskey glasses ago. You downed liquor like water, easing your stiff shoulders.

Aaron only stared at you with the same impassive face he had and shut the door before the cold caught you. He hunched in front of the driver's window, "This woman is a federal agent, and if something happens to her, I'll hunt you down. Please, drive her home safely." He straightened back up, casually tapping the vehicle's roof.

The cab took you away only after Aaron snapped a picture of the cab's plate number. He sighed as the vehicle slowly disappeared from his line of sight. He twisted on the balls of his feet, met by his other children, agents drunkenly calling his name.

Tuesday, March 27, 10:14 AM

You scurried out of the elevator, weaving through the sea of agents in the bullpen and then to the conference room where everybody was already settled in.

"So sorry! There was this son of a b—" You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, clenching your fists. Then, you exhaled profoundly with a calm smile at the end. "I got in a car accident. Go on, Pen. Sorry for interrupting." You took a seat between Aaron and JJ.

JJ turned to you, "Are you okay?" Her hand gently landed on one of yours, giving you a worried squeeze.

You gathered a smile and raised a thumb, "Thick skull and strong bones. Nothing can break me, not even this unsub... whoa—" Your eyes widened a bit.

How ironic for your case to be about an unsub who performed a craniotomy on the victims. You smiled awkwardly, the similar tight-lipped smile that Spencer would always plaster on his face.

The other agents coughed a chuckle at your reaction while Penelope continued the debrief with the same horrified look.

Upon listening to the case details, you slowly felt colder, subtly rubbing the sides of your shoulders. You were so caught up in your anger towards the guy that rear-ended you you could've sworn your body was overheating. You left your blazer somewhere and were sure it wasn't in your wrecked car.

"Alright, wheels up in 30," Aaron announced, sending everyone to get out of their seats and grab their go bags and snapping you off your trance in the process.

You rushed to collect your file copy and headed for the door but halted when Aaron called you. You pivoted on your heels, "Yes?"

He was taking off his jacket, handing it to you as soon as it peeled off his body.

"I don't think dry cleaning your suit is part of my job description, Sir." You kidded as you stared at his black jacket.

Aaron rolled his eyes. It was so rare that you had to blink twice to ensure you didn't have a concussion from your minor car accident. "You're cold." He wasn't asking, plainly stating your slight predicament.

Your eyebrows knitted, mouth slightly opened. And as if the universe was mocking you, a sudden draft slapped you in a shiver. You snatched his jacket and mumbled a small thank you.

As you walked out of the conference room, teasing eyes bore holes into your being. Each BAU team member's narrowed brows held you captive, and their loud thoughts rang in your ears. You ignored all of it, though, taming your anxiety with the warmth of Aaron's jacket.

Wednesday, April 13, 1:37 PM

"Garcia, look for old cases with one young boy as a survivor." Aaron started, listing each task that everyone was to complete.

You were so focused on the case that your next movement caught you off guard.

Your back snapped straight from the slap of Minnesota air. It was brief. An officer merely opened and closed the door, but your body was nowhere near as warm as it was a few seconds ago.

The warmth of cotton fabric soon hugged your shoulders, along with the momentary weight of Aaron's hands, before he fully let go of his suit jacket.

He continued talking as if what he had just done was normal or anything close to casualty, "Morgan and Reid, try speaking with the victim's family one more time."

Emily exchanged looks with JJ, conversing silently while you obliviously sipped your coffee.

Friday, May 2, 5:04PM

"Capital O-M-G!" Penelope squealed, drumming on your shoulders as soon as she came close.

"Garcia, breathe," JJ gently placed her hands on Penelope's shoulders, modeling a regular breathing pattern.

Emily gave you a look as she sipped her coffee, which you returned with a shrug. Penelope was ever so eccentric. You've gotten used to it over the years you've been with the team.

"Okay, okay, okay. I'm good. Just that— I was— Ugh! Look!" Penelope shoved her phone in your face.

You saw a blinding blur, forcing out a sarcastic, "Wow! I can definitely see."

Luckily, JJ took it to herself to pull Penelope's phone away from messing up your eyesight and looked at the image plastered on the screen. A smirk immediately covered her lips, "Oh."

"What is it? Let me see—" Emily walked behind JJ. Her jaw dropped not long after. "Anything you want to tell us?" She cooed as she gave you the widest grin she had ever flashed, at least for that morning.

Your eyebrows clashed, and your forehead creased, "Whatever are you on about?"

"You're telling us nothing's happening between you and a guy?" Emily's grin only widened. You wondered how wide it could get, terrifying you in the process.

JJ flipped the phone to your end. The brightness of the screen stung your eyes a bit. "Want to explain this?"

Photo: It looked like the picture was cropped because you saw Derek's arm around you, but he was nowhere to be found in the image. Aaron's jacket was around your shoulders while he was behind you, glaring at Derek's arm.

"What about it?" The confusion was solid in your voice. However, you had a bit of an idea of what the three of them were insinuating.

Penelope stepped closer to you, "Uhuh, sure," she started as she zoomed in on the picture. "You're telling me you can't see Hotch's jacket on your shoulders, let alone Hotch glaring at my chocolate thunder?"

"He let me borrow his jacket because I was cold. Doesn't he always do that with everyone?" You innocently asked, looking at each one of them.

"Still doesn't explain him glaring at Derek." Emily chimed in a teasing tone, wiggling her eyebrows.

Your eyes widened, "You think Hotch was mad at me because I took it? He offered it to me, and I was cold. You think he was just being polite or?"

Penelope rolled her eyes and aimed her fluffy pen at you, "You oblivious profiler! He's jealous!"

"Uh-no," You chuckled.

"You don't believe me? Look at this."

Photo: This photo was older than the first one and might've been your third or fourth year with the BAU team. It seemed like all of you had just ended a case. You were snuggled on the couch on the jet. Aaron was draping his jacket over you.

"Who took that picture?" You queried.

Penelope raised her hand, "I was going to check in on everyone, then the camera spotted it, and I took a screenshot because I couldn't help myself. I was going to tease you about it but forgot for a very, very, very, very long time until I saw that picture from our last team night out." She wiggled her eyebrows, a playful smile on her lips.

"Looks like our boss has a favorite," JJ sang softly, looking at you with a knowing smile.

Emily nudged you, noticing the blush on your face. "You've gotta admit that's very sweet of Hotch. I think he likes you wearing his jacket." She teased, poking your sides.

"He does that to everyone, though," You reasoned. If you recall, he had offered his jacket to many people before.

"Nope, no!" Penelope shook her head vigorously with a tight lip. "He offers it to some but gives it to you."

"We had a case where it was biting cold outside. Hotch offered to help me if I needed a jacket. I said no because of politeness and shit, but he didn't insist. He didn't even offer his jacket. He offered to give me time to return to my room and grab my jacket." Emily grimaced, obviously still holding a grudge regarding the incident.

"I've known Hotch for years. Giving out his jacket was only for emergencies. If it's the only choice he had. We've had cases where a victim was a little too exposed, and his solution was to wrap them with the newspaper he conveniently found." JJ exclaimed, sorting the manila folders on her chest.

You gave it some thought and considered every possibility, but you shook your head. "He's just being nice because he's my boss. Plus, I'm still a bit tense around the team." You straightened yourself, fixing your top.

Emily cackled, "Getting flat-out drunk with us is definitely you still a bit tense around us."

"You know what I mean," You defended, blushing.

The three exchanged looks and shrugged. If you wanted to turn a blind eye, then it was your choice. But they had a perfect theory and tried to test it out.

Aaron was heading to the elevator as you exited the bullpen. The three of them grinned.

"Going for girls night?" Aaron quipped, raising his eyebrows.

JJ frowned, "We were, but she's feeling sick. I think the cold's getting to her." She gave you a pitiful hug.

Your eyes blew wide, jerking your head behind you where the other two stood with maniac grins. You knew what JJ was doing. It didn't take a second for you to figure it out. And as if luck was on their side, the elevator dinged.

You followed their figures as they piled in in the lift. You glared at them, but Emily focused on the man beside you.

You gazed at Aaron and were met with his jacket stretched out to you. Your mouth fell open, unable to breathe.

"It's cold outside this time of night. You'll feel worse if you don't layer up." Aaron cleared his throat, "Take it."

You reached for his jacket so slowly that he took it in himself to wrap it around your shoulders. "Thank you," Your voice quivered, hesitantly stepping inside the elevator.

He followed, standing beside you. You could feel the three devils behind you, preparing yourself for their constant teasing.

Unbeknownst to any of you, Aaron was holding his breath in the hopes that none of you would notice his blushing ears.

Monday, May 16, 8:12PM

The entire day has been a drag. Besides the unsub being disgustingly great at hiding his tracks in the safety of your local area, your stomach had been giving you the worst time of your life.

Later in the evening, in Aaron's orders, everyone was sent home to get some rest and start fresh the next day.

You were thankful. You needed to rest from all the stomach-emptying vomit you did in the restroom. Your acid reflux was having a field day and didn't let you get a breath. You practically lived in the toilet. You even had to call Derek and ask him to put you on speaker so you could contribute to finding the unsub. Luckily, they didn't question it.

Emily retracted away as she exited your hug, "Are you sure you don't want me to give you a ride home? We practically live in this building. I don't think they'd mind you leaving your car here for a night."

A warm smile brightened your drained face, "Yes, I'm sure. Thanks for the offer." You bid her one last goodbye before heading to your own car.

Your head was down as the day's exhaustion finally caught up. Your senses were off. You walked as if time stopped. You wondered if you should've taken advantage of Emily's offer.

With your loud thoughts and vulnerable senses, a heart attack almost killed you when a sudden cage of warmth engulfed your body. For a moment, your body wanted to fight, but it didn't take long for you to remember the familiarity of this warmth.

"What took you so long?" His voice was gentle and comforting enough to put you to sleep immediately.

You looked up at Aaron, who refused to unwrap his arms around you, "I didn't know you were waiting. I thought you went home already. Isn't Jack waiting for you? It's movie night."

Aaron smiled, "I'm taking you to the hospital to get checked. Captain Jack's orders."

You couldn't help but smile as well. He held the door for the passenger seat before jumping to the driver's seat. As you watched him go around, you noticed his scent lingered on your shoulders.

Aaron placed his jacket on yours.

"You ought to be careful," A chuckle passed your lips, "The gals are onto you."

"Why?" Aaron looked at you with a confused expression. His face made you giggle. The genuineness of his expression made you wonder his reaction if you had said the same thing two years ago.

A grin glistened on your face, "They say Agent Hotchner has a crush on me." Your voice danced with playfulness.

Aaron copied your grin and shrugged, "I'm surprised they haven't figured it out after all these years." He turned his body to face you, "So? Do you like him back?"

If only the BAU team knew how their unit chief, the SSA Aaron Hotchner, was a lot friskier than they perceived him to be, Aaron wouldn't last a day from all the teasing.

Then you wondered how the BAU team would react if they found out you and Aaron have been dating for the past two years and successfully kept it a secret from everyone except Strauss and Rossi.

Or the number of questions you'd be bombarded with when they learn that you recently moved in together with Aaron and Jack. You knew well enough that the ladies would be interrogating you like a serial killer.

You shrugged, "I heard he's got a fiancée." You fished the necklace well hidden under your shirt. A golden ring band shaped like vines with an oval-cut blue moon diamond dangled on the chain.

"Yeah..." Aaron held your hand and placed a soft kiss on the back of it, "You wouldn't want to be in the way of that." He smiled widely, an ever-loving expression you indulged yourself with for the past two years and soon... for a lifetime.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x you #criminal minds #criminalminds #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch imagine #cm #ssa aaron hotchner #ssa hotchner #fem!reader #x reader #x female reader #character x reader #hotch #aaron hotch fluff

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sosuperawesome · 6 months

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Stego Sweater Pattern // Hunt Hand Knits

#dinosaur #knit #patterns #diy #etsy

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lustspren · 8 months

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P.S.T EP. 7 | Hold on Tight ft Aespa.

length: 6.6k words ✦

Aespa & Male Reader

genres: airplane sex, blowjob, oral sex, kinda fivesome, hard sex, footjob, squirt, ass eating

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“H-hello…” you stammered. You were sure that when you first met them you hadn't acted like an idiot, but this time it was a different situation. They were waiting for you, hunting like a pride of perfectly coordinated lionesses. You weren't going to let your nerves get the better of you that time, you decided that you would be confident at all times. As much as they allow you, of course.

They all looked exaggeratedly beautiful for just a simple flight. Karina's bangs looked exaggeratedly pretty, she was wearing a kind of short black dress, with separate sleeves that went from her shoulders to her hand, covering it like a glove, and black boots. Ningning wore her brown hair down and in slight waves; a gray knit crop top, a black sports skirt, and chunky platform Mary Jane shoes. Giselle also had her dark hair down, dressed in a long, loose black skirt, a long-sleeved black blouse, black shoes, and a black choker. Winter looked the most stunning by far, with a light brown bob haircut, a black knit crop top, baggy jeans that revealed her milky, flat belly, and high-soled converse.

When they finished their joint laughter, Winter stood up, took a few steps down the hallway and leaned her shoulder against a wall to look at you, as if she were waiting.

"You can leave your things here, we'll go somewhere else," Karina, despite appearing intimidating many times, was by far the friendliest and kindest of all of them. She was the leader, you wouldn't expect anything less.

"Somewhere else?" You took off your backpack and left it on your seat, you hesitated whether to leave your phone there or not, but you thought about it for a second and considered that maybe you wouldn't need it for the trip. You wouldn't be too far from reality. You left your phone in one of the front pockets of your backpack.

While you were doing that, the rest of the girls had already stood up and were heading towards the hallway. Karina waited for you while the girls were behind.

"Follow me," Karina nodded at you toward the hallway, and you, moving away from all your belongings, followed her, "you know, we're really excited to have our own 'personal assistant'," she made quotes with her fingers.

"Oh my god yes," Giselle confirmed a few steps ahead of you, "our companions do nothing but talk about the wonders that happen in that fucking spa."

"I can confirm that," Winter said as she walked with her hands in the pockets of her jeans, looking to the front, "I've done nothing but die of envy over the past few weeks."

While they were talking you couldn't help but focus your attention on Ningning, who so far hadn't said a single word and was just walking with a relaxed look on her face. She didn't seem as impatient and forward as the other three, in fact, she seemed unexpectedly shy, you would say reserved, as if she didn't want to appear vulgar towards you.

"Fuck, Seulgi-unnie couldn't stop talking about how much she loved how you worshiped her feet," Karina said, as you stopped at the door that led to another booth, "you must be good huh?" she asked you, raising an eyebrow with an amused expression on her face.

“I do my best,” you shrugged.

"Let me believe you do a lot more than that," Karina laughed, and just then Winter opened the cabin door for you to walk inside.

The cabin you had entered could easily be part of a Star Wars spaceship thanks to its design and futuristic atmosphere. White leather furniture and black trim, each and every one of them with white LED lights underneath; the floor and walls were a perfect combination of varnished walnut wood and satin white paint, with abstract divisions that matched the fluctuating ceiling and the number of curved shapes that the cabin had.

To the left were two chairs facing each other, which, like the rest of the furniture, lacked legs attached to the floor, instead, they were fixed to the wall. Embedded in the curved wall was a long screen, which indicated the cabin temperature and certain data that you didn't stop to detail. To the right was a small U-shaped sectional couch, with a thin table in the middle sticking out from the wall. On that same wall were the tinted windows of the plane.

Further on to the left was a chair exactly like the previous one between two semi-walls, and in the last visible section of the cabin, which looked like the rest area, a bed with curved edges embedded in the wall to the left, and a long sofa on the right that looked unconventional but at the same time extremely comfortable. On that same couch, sitting while she looked at her phone, was Noze.

The exaggeratedly beautiful woman, dressed in a wide, loose black T-shirt, sweatpants of the same color, and a pearl pink cap, had her legs drawn up on the sofa in an Indian position, a cushion in her lap and her fanny pack at her side. She seemed focused on her affairs, so you noticed how you disturbed her peace as you approached her.

She took off both AirPods, turning her head towards you as she examined you up and down; she let out a funny and sexy little smile that left you cold. How was it possible that she was just a manager and did not dedicate herself to being a model or actress? She had everything to be one, from her face, her body, and even her charisma.

"Welcome aboard, pretty boy," she greeted you, as each of them took a seat except you. Winter and Ningning on the bed in front of Noze, Giselle on the chair behind you and Karina next to Noze, "everything okay?"

"Well, you could say so," you shrugged, looking at the cabin around you, and then at the navy blue curtain a few meters away from you that marked a division, you were sure there was more space behind there, "I certainly never expected to get on a Mercedes-Benz private jet."

"Life takes many turns, you of all people should know that," she laughed, "for now just focus on holding on tight for what awaits you."

"Are you trying to terrify me with a reference to one of their songs?" at that moment Ningning began to sing the beginning of Hold on Tight very quietly, only audible thanks to the small silence that was generated between your question and Noze's answer. You all turned to look at her, she opened her eyes wide, and a small wave of laughter flooded the cabin for a few seconds.

“Hey, don't just stand there, come here,” Ningning, who was still blushing thanks to the embarrassing moment she went through just now, moved to the side to give you enough space next to her.

"Oh, thank you," you and her looked into each other's eyes for a few seconds as you smiled at her, sitting in the space between her and the inside wall of the bed. She smiled back at you, but then turned around surreptitiously.

At that moment, two men dressed in elegant and immaculate suits entered through the curtain, each of them had a tray in their hand, with glasses full of what appeared to be Champagne, six of them, one for each of you. On each tray there was also a box of Melatonin, a medicine to help you fall asleep.

"Thank you," Karina said to the butlers, as they let you take your glasses, you all gave them your thanks too. Unlike the others, you hesitated whether to take a pill or not.

"I recommend you take it," said Noze, taking a sip of champagne, "it will be quite a long trip, and that will help you with the jet lag," at that moment they all took their pills with the help of the champagne.

"Are we going to sleep right now?" you asked, leaning forward slightly so you could see Winter next to Ningning, you also looked at the others.

"Yup, so make yourself comfortable," Karina said cross-legged, making circles with her glass to stir the champagne.

"Uh..." you looked around, knowing there wasn't enough room for all of you to sleep and lie down separately, "where?"

"I don't know, there are a lot of seats, some of them should work for you," said Karina, after finishing all the champagne in one go. Giselle imitated her, as did Noze. Winter took her time, and Ningning only left the cup half empty.

"The back couch is mine, you have to sleep in a chair, darling," Giselle said, standing up, blowing you a kiss and going to the couch near the entrance.

"Do you want to sleep with us, pretty boy?" Noze asked as she lay down with Karina behind her on the couch, "we could make a sandwich with you in the middle," the unintelligent you would have accepted without question, but your brain reminded you that that could easily be a joke and that it wasn't serious. So you decided not to push your luck.

"Uhm, I think I'll be better off in a chair, thanks," you said more nervously than when you climbed aboard, Karina and Noze laughed, and then snuggled together.

"Hey, would you give us some space?" Winter asked you in a low and adorable tone of voice, seeing that you were still taking up space on the bed.

"Oh right," you stood up immediately, and exchanged glances with Ningning again.

"I don't like that you have to sleep in a chair, I'm sorry," Ningning said, and you noticed the honest regret in her tone of voice.

"You have nothing to apologize for," you smiled, shaking your head, "it's not my first time sleeping in a chair, in fact, compared to these chairs the old ones are pieces of scrap metal," Ningning laughed, and her laugh rubbed off on you. You automatically felt your cheeks warm and your stomach ticklish. Oh no, it was happening again.

"I'll see you in a bit then," she said.

"See you in a bit, yeah," you nodded, and without taking your eyes off her, you slowly retreated to your chair, which was not too far away but when you sat down you could only see Giselle, who had settled into the sectional sofa just a few feet from you.

"She likes you," Giselle said with a mischievous smile, covered up to her neck in a blanket. You looked at her with a frown and an expression as if she had said something very stupid. She started talking to you with her very nice and charming English.

"Of course not, you're trippin," you returned, also in your English, "and lower your voice, she's probably listening to you."

"You're not very smart at reading eyes, are you?" she asked, laughing at you like you were a fool. You probably were.

"Not really, but why would she like me?" Unlike her, you did lower your tone of voice, "she barely knows me."

"I don't know, you're cute," she replied, shifting so she was on her stomach facing you.

"Is that enough for you to like a boy?" You raised an eyebrow.

"No, first I have to know if they have a big cock," Giselle rested her head on her forearms, letting you see how her ass formed a big bulge under the blanket, "and you have it."

You felt like you were going to get tongue-tied coming up with an answer, so you stayed quiet for a few seconds, breathing deeply as you stared at her, Giselle just laughed. It was going to be a pretty long tour.

"You know there's a completely free spot on the couch that you're not using, right?" you asked her, masterfully changing the subject.

"Yup, I know perfectly well," she nodded.

"Aren't you going to offer it to me?" You raised an eyebrow, leaning forward to grab a blanket that was folded over the back of the couch.

"I could, yeah," she raised her head to see you, "but what if I woke up out of nowhere wanting to suck a cock? There wouldn't be a bell to save you, what's happening on that side of the couch can't be seen over there," she pointed her finger to the space behind you, where the other girls were.

"It's a risk I wouldn't mind taking," you replied, playing her game as you hugged your still folded blanket. Giselle bit her lip and smiled.

"Alright then," she motioned her chin toward the free space, "rest well, I'll see you in a few hours..." she shifted position on the couch again, this time with her head toward the corner and her ass purposely not covered by the blanket for you to see.

"Aha, rest well too," you said, and got up from the chair to go settle into the free space of the sofa. On the table in the center of the couch, there was an unopened bottle of water that you used to take the pill. Minutes later, after waiting for it to take effect, you lay down on your side of the couch and soon fell asleep.

——————————————��——————————

You woke up feeling a little strange, colder than normal. You remembered covering yourself with the blanket when you fell asleep, but why couldn't you feel the soft cotton fabric against your skin at that moment? You also noticed a slight pain in your spine, and you had to stretch your neck from side to side to relax it. You hadn't opened your eyes yet, first you wanted to rub them, like you always did when you woke up, but when you wanted to raise your wrists to bring your hands closer to your face, they didn't move.

"Hfmm?" you stammered, opening your eyes slowly as you felt something cold in your crotch. The light blinded you for a few seconds, but when your vision cleared, you almost had a heart attack.

In front of you, standing at different points, were the Aespa girls completely naked as they watched you (Noze wasn’t there). Karina with her arms crossed, Giselle with her hands on her waist, Ningning with her hands on her back, and Winter… Winter was measuring your erect cock with a transparent silicone dildo.

"Hm, it's even bigger than my favorite toy," Winter said, as you slowly regained your senses. You tried to stand up, but it was useless since you were tied hand and foot to that chair, which you were originally going to fall asleep in a few hours ago.

"What the fuck?!" you exclaimed, clenching your fists with a worried expression, "what the hell have you done to me?"

"Wow wow, relax silly," Karina intervened, taking a step forward, and your gaze inevitably went to her heavy tits and the rest of her milky body, "we would never have done anything to you while you were asleep, and Ning had Winter under control."

"How the hell did you move me here and why?" You weren't as upset as you were at the beginning, but you still deserved a good explanation.

"Your sleeping pill was a little stronger, otherwise we wouldn't have been able to move you there," she explained, "Look, I know this isn't to your liking, but we've heard great things about you, and we wanted to somehow... test your reputation before anything."

"Weren't all the so-called tests that Noze put me through enough?" you asked, indignant at the aforementioned manager who at that moment was not among the faces in front of you. You would have loved that, tho.

"Those were tests Noze set up for you, we were never involved in quality control," she exonerated herself, "so this is our quality control."

“Fuck…” you cursed under your breath, “so be it,” you said out loud, followed by a sigh of pure resignation.

"Alright..." Karina took a couple more steps forward, gently pushing Winter away to sit on your thigh, you felt her bare buttocks against your skin, and your cock throbbed, "this is what we're going to do, sweetie," she put a hand to your hair and started caressing it, "we will all have our turn, and at least three of us have to cum so that your test can be considered passed."

"And what happens if I don't get it?"

"Then our tour will be drastically different for you compared to how it's planned so far," she said with an innocent smile, giving you a kiss on the forehead, "no pressure."

"Anyway, I can't move, everything is your responsibility and in that case, the fault wouldn't be entirely mine," you defended yourself.

"That's true, but I don't care," she patted your chest and stood up, "good luck," she winked at you, and gave way to Winter, who had a hungry look on her face as she climbed right into your lap.

Her small tits were just a few centimeters in front of you, you wanted to put your hands on her small, tight and delicious body, but all the effort was useless. Without saying a single word, she let out a big spit on her hand and brought it to your cock, to lubricate it a little before raising her hips and impaling herself completely on your throbbing erection.

"Oh fuck! And it feels even better than my damn toy!" Winter whimpered after letting out a long moan with you. Her tight pussy smothered your cock from all directions, and you began breathing heavily with her ass resting against your pelvis. She hadn't started to move and she already felt fucking wonderful, in addition to that, you could notice a slight bulge protruding from her lower abdomen, it was the tip of your cock.

"That fucking whore has been wanting to do that ever since we tied you to the chair," Giselle said, sitting on a chair with her legs crossed, one meaty thigh on top of the other.

"And it'll be worth all the waiting," Winter moaned, gripping her hands on either side of your neck firmly as she began to slowly move up and down, feeling how easily your cock slid in and out of her before she dedicated herself to frantically bouncing on you.

Winter moved over you with the ease and lightness of a feather, filling the entire cabin with the dry sounds of her tight ass slapping against your pelvis and thighs. She dug her nails very superficially into your neck, before completely embracing it with her arms and immersing herself in your lips with a kiss lacking affection and care, instead, she attacked you furiously with her tongue between incessant moans.

That was being much more difficult than you expected, it was torture not being able to hug her small frame, or her thin waist while she jumped full of vigor and desire on you. She separated from your lips, and looked into your eyes with her face flushed and distorted by pleasure, you looked down, noticing once again how the tip of your cock constantly made a bulge in her abdomen.

"Fuck, I'm getting really horny..." Karina said close to you, but you couldn't see her since your gaze was fixed on the cutie in front of you.

"Me too, you can tell that cock is filling her up so well..." Giselle confirmed.

Winter tangled her fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling it hard and then planting her feet on either side of your hips and starting to bounce even harder against your cock.

"He's filling me up too fucking good!" Winter squealed, letting her head fall back as she bit her lip and closed her eyes, letting herself be carried away by the immense pleasure your cock was giving her before she climaxed, "Oh my god!" she screamed, clinging to your neck again and pressing your heads together.

She violently impaled herself downwards, and when she lifted her hips to pull you out of her pussy she squirted all over you, wetting your cock, your thighs, and even the floor. Her body began to shake between violent spasms, screaming and moaning with her nails digging into your shoulders.

"Fuck, this girl made a mess," Karina sighed, "whatever, we'll clean up later."

When her orgasm had passed Winter lowered herself to her knees over you again, looking into your eyes with an evil smile and heavy breathing.

"Consider that a gift," she winked at you, "it was obvious I was going to cum."

"Thanks, I guess," you said between gasps, still recovering from the wonderful ride she just gave you. She stood up, and you noticed how she had gone to lie down so she could rest.

Your vision was clear now, and your eyes went to each of the girls to see who was next. Karina, with her arms crossed and a small smile of satisfaction, did not stand up, Ningning, who had her cheeks flushed and licked her lips while looking at your cock, did not stand up either, the one who stood up was Giselle.

She was without a doubt, the complete package and the definition of luscious and thick body. Her meaty thighs were a work of art on their own, not to mention her surprisingly big juicy tits and her massive round ass. She walked towards you slowly, noticing that your eyes never left her thighs.

"You seem to love my thighs, don't you?" She asked, standing between your legs, even knowing the answer, "and what do you think of my ass?" When she said that she turned around so that you could have her ass facing you, she leaned forward very slowly, and grabbed her buttocks to spread them apart and let you see her plump pussy and butthole, "I bet you would love to have this ass bouncing on your cock."

You said nothing, your mouth watering as you stared at the exquisite work of art a short distance from your face. At that moment, by the work and grace of God or some guardian angel of yours, a timely turbulence shook the plane and the cabin, everything shook, and thanks to that Giselle staggered and, unintentionally, fell on your face, which was buried between her soft buttocks.

Instinctively the first thing you did was devour her like a hungry animal, using your tongue to lick between her delicious, wet folds. You sucked, kissed and moved your tongue in different possible ways, and Giselle, between cute moans, didn't even try to separate her ass from your face, on the contrary, she leaned even further back to lean on you.

In less than a minute Giselle was already going completely crazy between moans and whimpers while you ate her pussy with utmost greed. Her folds were deliciously soft, as were the fluids that seeped through them, it was without a doubt the tastiest pussy you had ever eaten in your entire life, closely followed by Lia's.

"Don't think it will be so easy to make me cum, boy," Giselle said with one hand on your head, fingers clinging to your hair, "higher," you obeyed and moved your tongue up through her slit, reaching her entrance to insert there your tongue, Giselle let out a louder moan as you explored her pussy inside with your tongue, but it wasn't enough, "I said... higher," she whimpered, and you smiled, realizing what she meant.

You raised your tongue a little higher, and when you reached her beautiful butthole, the first thing you did was spit all the saliva accumulated in your mouth onto it, and then make circles with your tongue around it. Giselle tensed her body, and she let out a louder moan as she felt the contact on her butthole. Great, another butt play lover.

After a few seconds of just playing with her you finally began to force your tongue into her tight butthole, causing loud squeals to come from her. You moved your tongue in circles inside her, hitting places that made her jump and jerk with pleasure. She was incredibly delicious, and you let her know that by eating her ass like a hungry dog.

Her buttocks felt too good, pressed on either side of your face, and feeling them tense was the last straw for you. You clenched your fists and arms tightly, making a tremendous effort to try to free yourself from your bonds; you tensed your entire body, pressing your forearms upward. A vein stood out from your temple, and you stopped eating Giselle's ass only to grit your teeth, let out a grunt, and finally free yourself from one of the restraints.

Your right hand was completely free, and it immediately went to one of her buttocks to squeeze and grope it as much as you could, returning again to her ass and slowly taking Giselle towards her peak. The seconds passed, and between loud moans she climaxed in an intense attack of spasms that made her collapse onto your lap, pressing your cock between her round buttocks while her body shook constantly.

"You better use that strength to stop me from walking," Winter said from somewhere behind you, in contrast to her adorable little tone of voice. You could only laugh in disbelief, with Giselle's back resting against your chest. Your chin rested on her shoulder, from where you could see her pair of tits rise up and down between heavy breaths.

After a few long seconds, Giselle finally gathered enough strength not to get up, but to lean forward as far as she could, put her hands on the floor and slowly lower herself towards it, making sure that your cock passed between the folds of her pussy before getting on her knees and hands. She looked at you over her shoulder, winked at you, and began to sensually crawl away from you, knowing that your gaze was on her dump truck.

You were completely mesmerized by the sway of her hips as she walked away from you, but soon your attention was transferred to Karina, who had stood up and was now walking confidently towards you, swaying her hips from side to side. You admired every corner of her hourglass shaped body, from her voluptuous tits to her creamy thighs, not ignoring her pretty, shaved pussy. At this point you were too horny, and your cock hurt from how hard it was.

"Maybe there was more than just melatonin in that pill you took earlier," she apologized when she was standing in front of you, "I'm sorry, but I couldn't risk that cock dying early."

"I don't even care at this point, you tied me to a chair against my will," you shrugged, looking her up and down, "Well? Come get me, precious," she stared at you in silence for a second.

"You're having fun, aren't you?" she asked, and before you could answer, she raised one leg and put one foot inside your already opened mouth, you sucked on her toes as much as you could, and then she rested her sole on your chin. Understood, you were never going to be in charge with her.

You didn't try to answer her question, instead you started kissing every part of her foot as much as you could, going up from her sole to her toes, which you sucked and licked with great care and delicacy. You raised one hand to bring it to her foot and give it a kind of massage while you used your tired tongue to lick between her toes, leaving them completely wet and sloppy.

Karina noticed the tiredness in your tongue as it danced between her fingers, and in an act of mercy, she lowered her foot from your face and placed it now on your crotch, her fingers gently placed on your balls, you held your breath, with fear that she would apply pressure.

"You're incredibly lucky that you had enough balls to break free from one of your restraints," she said with her arms crossed, staring at you, "otherwise you wouldn't have had a chance with me," after saying that, she picked up your wrist and guided your free hand to her wet pussy, which immediately felt warm against your fingers, "now then, I repeat... are you having fun, darling?" she applied light pressure to your balls.

"I'm enjoying every damn second, Yu Jimin," you replied, as you began to rub her pretty pussy with your fingers, concentrating on her clit first. You made small slow circles, and then moved your fingers along her slit to moisten them with her fluids.

"Was Minjeongie's pussy tight enough for you, honey?" You turned your head, seeing Winter on the bed slowly rubbing her pussy as she watched the two of you.

"I fucking loved it," you responded between gasps, taking one of your fingers inside Karina's pussy to begin pumping very slowly in and out, "I loved how my thick cock slid so easily in and out of that tight little pussy," Winter started moaning and touching herself faster, "I also loved how it made her pretty belly bulge, and how that pussy squirted all over me at the end."

With that answer, Winter inserted two fingers inside her pussy and began pumping them frantically between adorable moans, and Karina began to play with your cock with her foot, running her soft fingers up and down over it. In response, you inserted another finger inside her pussy, pumping slightly faster.

"And tell me, did Aeri taste good to you? Was she delicious?" Karina asked, playing with the tip of your cock between her toes.

"She had the most fucking delicious holes I've ever tasted," you gasped with a small smirk, then biting your lip. Saying this, Karina removed her foot from your cock and planted it on the ground, only to raise her another foot from it and stick it directly into your mouth.

"You're only saying that because you haven't tried mine," she said, removing your hand from her pussy as well, "but you will."

During her little interrogation you had been applying force with your other wrist, the ties were already loose, so you only had to give a small pull upwards to free your other hand, which you brought to her ankle to hold it and keep her foot still, while you repeated the same work as with the previous one, distributing kisses, licks and sucks to her toes.

Karina allowed you to continue working on her foot for a few long seconds, until she placed it on your cock again to slowly rub it from the balls to the tip. With your two hands now free, you brought the left one to one of her beautiful tits and squeezed it, feeling how soft and spongy it felt, while you brought the other one back to her pussy, quickly rubbing her clit as you pinched her nipple.

“Fuck… Seulgi was right about you,” she moaned, slowly falling for you, “do you like my feet, baby?”

"I love them," you responded between gasps as her foot continued to work on your cock.

"And you'd like to fuck my brains out, wouldn't you?" She asked, moaning slightly louder, as you continued to rub her clit and then stuck your fingers back inside her pussy, pumping them hard. Your other hand was still on her tit, squeezing and massaging it. Her foot was making your cock twitch, and you felt how little by little she pushed you closer to the edge.

"Believe me, I would do anything to pin you against the wall and hammer that pussy," you said between moans.

"Now tell me..." she paused slightly, closing her eyes as she controlled her moans, "Do you like my feet better than Yuna's? Does Aeri taste better than Chaeryongie? Is Winter tighter fucking than Yeji?" In the midst of that flurry of unexpected questions your anger began to heat up inside you, she saw it in your eyes and smiled, and you became rougher with your touches on her, "I'm sure Yuna loved how you fucked her in that mall," she laughed, "Oh, and how does Lia's ass feel? I don't think it's as tight as Aeri's."

"Unnie, you're going too far..." Ningning finally spoke close to you, she was sitting on the back of the sectional sofa, with her hands crossed on her thighs as she waited patiently for her turn.

"Shut up!" Karina said to Ning, looking at her, and then back at you, "do you want to know how I know all those damn things?" She said angrily, removing her foot from your cock, and you had no choice but to please her.

"I like your feet better than Yuna's," you started, now pumping three of your fingers in and out of her pussy as fast as you could, jiggling her thighs, and also squeezing one of her tits, "Aeri tastes a lot better than any of Chaery's holes... and Minjeong is much tighter than Yeji."

When you finally gave her the answer she was waiting for she reached her orgasm between loud moans and whimpers, her spasms shook her completely, and she fell to her knees while her entire body trembled. You heard another wave of moans behind you, these ones higher pitched and smaller, Winter had come for the second time in 20 minutes.

Karina was still on her knees, with both hands on your thighs as she caught her breath. When she did, she struggled to her feet and looked into your eyes with a devilish smile.

"Good boy," with that, she walked away from you, her smile still stretched from ear to ear. She had left triumphant.

“Fucking b...” you muttered, and caught yourself when you saw Ningning separate herself from the couch to slowly walk towards you, her hands on her back and a slightly worried expression on her face.

"You already passed the test, don't worry," she said with a calm and soothing voice, "you don't have to test your skills on me."

"Huh?" She fell on her knees between your legs, and as she looked at you with her beautiful big eyes she took your cock with one hand and started pumping it slowly, "Oh..." you stared at her, feeling your stomach become ticklish again, you felt affection for her, and maybe something more.

"You're a cute boy… you deserve it," she said as she continued to move her hand up and down your throbbing cock. You felt your cheeks warm again.

"T-Thank you..." you thanked and then gasped, when you did, she brought the tip of your cock to her mouth. You moaned louder, and Ningning began to suck on your tip slowly and sensually, being careful but still perfectly working her tongue and head motions.

She brought her mouth further to the middle of your shaft, slurping softly on your cock with one hand at the base and the other caressing one of your thighs. You two exchanged glances, and once you did, you couldn't stop looking into each other's eyes for a single second, not even when she took your entire cock inside her mouth, sucking something faster without the need to be disastrous.

You raised a hand to gently caress her face, your finger on her cheekbone and the rest of your hand on her chin. Her eyes changed at that moment, and you could notice how they somehow transmitted affection and gratitude towards you, they were extremely beautiful, and you were hypnotized.

Ningning took you out of her mouth for a few seconds, licking, kissing and sucking on your balls as her hand pumped quickly on your cock, and after giving your balls enough attention, she returned your cock into her mouth to take you straight down her throat. She didn't show any gag reflex, she just scrunched her face up a little as she looked into your eyes and rested her nose against your pelvis. You moaned loudly, and she pulled you out of her mouth with a long gasp of air.

She didn't give herself any time to rest, a few seconds later she dove back into your cock, giving it more sensual sucks and slurping all the saliva that was dripping from it. Your breathing was agitated and you felt how you were slowly reaching the top. Karina noticed your expression, and quickly took a step forward.

"Stop right there," Karina said to Ningning, who had pulled you out of her mouth, walking over to you and sitting next to the confused girl. She leaned back, bringing her feet up and closer to Ningning's face, "prepare them."

Ningning looked at you for a few seconds, once again as if to say that she was sorry, and then grabbed Karina by the ankles to lick and kiss her feet as disastrously as she could, leaving them all slippery and full of saliva.

Once her feet were ready, Karina turned her body towards you and raised her feet onto your lap, trapping your cock between them and starting to give you a footjob which completely suppressed the rage you felt at that moment thanks to her. Her feet moved deliciously up and down, your cock sliding easily between them and throbbing as your orgasm was just around the corner.

Karina's toes also swirled over your tip every time they went up, and one massaged your balls every time they went down. That resulted in an inevitable downhill slope from which you had no salvation.

"Cum baby," Karina moaned, moving her feet faster around your cock, "Cum on these pretty feet that you like better than Yuna's."

That last sentence made your blood boil, but at that point you couldn't do a damn to show it since you started shooting multiple thick jets of cum everywhere. You held on tightly to the chair and squirmed on it, while Karina drained you completely with her pretty feet, which were being completely covered by a layer of white liquid. You squeezed your eyes shut, still spasming slightly as your throbbing cock spilled the last drops of cum onto Karina's feet, which dripped your cum into your pelvis.

Karina stopped, and removed her feet from your cock to turn around and present them to Ningning once more.

“Go ahead honey, clean up,” she ordered in a cute, kind voice that sounded really fake to you.

Ningning sighed, and took Karina by the ankles again to begin passing her tongue through every corner of her feet, collecting your cum and swallowing every little drop without even complaining, on the contrary, she seemed to enjoy it, knowing that the true architect of that great load had been her. Once Karina's feet were completely clean and shiny, Ningning took the liberty of ignoring her and began running her tongue over your pelvis, collecting the small pools of cum that accumulated there before taking you into her mouth. again, just to suck your cock clean for a few seconds and then pull it out.

At that moment, a small beep was heard through the plane's speakers.

"Attention, passengers, we are approaching the final descent," the pilot's voice said over the speakers, "so please, we recommend that you fasten your seat belts properly," another beep sounded, and the pilot fell silent.

"Well, you certainly won't need to fasten the seat belt properly," Giselle joked, followed by a loud laugh, you looked down, and noticed that your ankles were still stuck to the chair.

"Fuck you, Aeri," you told her in English.

"You'll have time to fuck me later, don't rush it silly," she replied back in English.

—————————————————————————

Spren Notes:

FINALLY P.S.T IS BACK AND ON FIRE FAM.

#aespa smut #smut #giselle smut #karina smut #winter smut #ningning smut #kpop smut #fanfic smut #kpop fanfic #x male reader smut #male reader smut #male reader insert

2K notes · View notes

diejager · 1 year

Text

Only Human

Pairing : Monster Task Force 141 x reader

Cw : canon-typical violence, bodies, death, blood, cannibalism?, wounds, trauma.

Wc : 3.2k

Note: the designs for the Monster 141 came from @bluegiragi

Only Human masterlist

When Laswell, a known figure in the Intel gathering ranks of the CIA and military, had called you for your new transfer, you were ecstatic about it. You showed up casually, still in your vest and whole attire from your deployment, you were told that Laswell was waiting for you in her office once you took your first step. You only had time to drop off your weapons in the armory before going straight to her office.

You were personally asked to join a Task Force, not another squad or team under a Captain, which you hadn't expected; an international Task Force to boot, it shocked you, even more, to have been asked to have you on a Task Force that spanned nations wide. The radar must've been wide for it to be an international one, important and specialized soldiers were probably the ones who were invited - green berets, if you guessed.

You were excited, though, to have the honour of joining specialized soldiers with only being a corporal.

"Which Task Force, ma'am?" you asked, back straight with your hands crossed behind your back.

"The 141, Hunter."

Your composure almost slipped, your mind buzzed with excitement and confusion at the notice. The 141 was a reputed group, having members from the United Kingdom to the Americas and allies in the south, around Urzikstan, and perhaps farther. They took down Major Hassan, killing the heart of Al-Qatala and weeding out traitors like General Sheperd and Graves' PMC, the Shadows. A closed group with secrets only they knew and would take to the grave, a tight-knit Task Force.

You've heard of some members, none being human. The Ghost - or Ghost - a wraith hybrid of some sort, as dangerous as he was respectable. He was the better known one, a popular topic from one's lips to the other, gossip and rumors about him being more monster than human. While some were harmless, others were made to be racists - or xenophobic in some rarer cases - most were gossip, exaggerated depictions of the man people feared and admired.

You were jumping under your skin for the day to pass faster, for your transfer to happen more quickly. You couldn't wait to meet your new teammates, you've heard good and bad things about them. Some were sociable, others shy or downright menacing to look and interact with (perhaps they specifically meant Ghost).

You've always wanted to work with monsters, the majority of the military was made up of human men and women with a low, low (around 5%) being monsters, creatures of the night that made them stronger, faster, and better than humans, but they were often hunted until the last decades.

You, however, expected that half of the Task Force was made up of humans, and the rest monsters. You were wrong, really wrong. The moment you stepped out, you realized how unfortunate - maybe fortunate to be stuck with broad, strong, and handsome men - you were to be the sole human. Perhaps it was the shock or the honour that made you freeze and shy away, but neither of them could make you feel as prepared as you should be for officially joining them.

"Welcome to the Task Force, Hunter!" Price yelled over the beating blades of the helicopter, blue eyes staring at you with a - sinful, you found it sinfully handsome - smile hidden under his beard. He also had a green tail that followed behind him, a long, strong tail, you mustn't forget that.

The first ones you talked to were Soap and Rudolfo, two jokesters within the group. Soap was cute, having almost a puppy-like excitement at meeting you with the way he greeted you, smiling and laughing boisterously. He was loud and warm when you first talked to him.

Rodolfo, or Rudy as he told you to call him (you stuck with Rodolfo, feeling too intrusive to call him by his lovely nickname), was Mexican, a special forces, just like everyone else in the TF. He was as warm as the Mexican sun, funny, and soft-spoken.

They had an accent, one a light Mexican and the other a deep Scottish slur in his words. Rudolfo incorporated Spanish words in his sentences, easily understood but adorable nonetheless. Soap's Scottish accent was thicker, deep with his jargon that you sometimes questioned if he was even speaking English.

You only found out that they were monsters when they were training outside. You watched Soap turn from under the shades, eyes keen on his rippling muscles and cracking bones. His jaw shifted, it grew longer and his ears pointed up, light brown fur sprouted from his skin and his mohawk traveled farther, turning into a mane. You could hear the whines and grunts from his transformation.

A werewolf, you learned. He had enhanced strength. He became more durable and agile. He had accelerated healing, almost ten times the speed of regular men, and his senses seemed to have heightened significantly. It looked painful, you concluded so from the bodily sounds and his moans. The heat he exhumed was searing hot, it turned the air around him into mist, burning the water in the air and turning it into gas.

Soap had heard you gasp and awe at his form, broader and taller, he towered over you when he stood on his hind legs. His eyes glowed a vibrant blue when they met yours, waiting and gauging your reaction, but he could only see awe and admiration, perhaps a dash of excitement beneath your gaping expression.

He padded towards you, lurching forward and sending you tumbling on your back as his tongue lolled to the side and hung from his panting maw. His shoulders shook, abdomen flexing rapidly, it looked like he was laughing. At your reaction, or you, you didn't know, all you had in kind wa the urge to touch him. He looked so soft.

It was ironic in some sense, for the man - now creature - who feared dogs to be a werewolf, a larger, more dangerous, and fantastical counterpart to the domesticated dog.

"Can I pet you?" the words fell from your lips before you knew it, your face flushed and your body seized in embarrassment.

Soap huffed and pushed his snout to your shoulder, lowering his head in approval. He would let you pet him, and you took it without complaint. His fur and mane were soft, maybe the softest you've ever touched (you grew up hunting with your father, you knew for as well as any other hunter). It was soft and silky, he had taken great care in his grooming.

He let out a satisfied rumble when he saw you smile, a childish wonder in your eyes. You were so captivated by Soap's looming form over you that you almost forgot about Rudolfo - keyword: almost. Something wet had nudged your elbow, you turned and saw a smaller dog, ghostly pale with glimmering, blue gems for eyes. It looked like a mix of a lab and a shepherd, the combination making this white dog adorable.

Your eyes observed the whole length of it, from its head to its tail, a long whisp-like swirl that turns blur at the end. It connected the dog to Rodolfo. You didn't know what the dog was. Was it a spirit? Or was it a familiar?

"Cadejos, Hunter," Rudolfo answered your silent question, smirking at your petting the spirit with one hand while the other scratched behind Soap's twitching ear. "Dog spirits. I'm their vessel."

That meant he was more human than Soap was, perhaps almost as you. You still gave him an awed look, amazed by the possibility of becoming a vessel for mythological beings and spirits.

You only truly found out whether or not Ghost was human or a monster on a mission. You were sent along with a team led by your Lieutenant to capture a standing AQ cell, one of the few that still stood without their leader.

You were, along with other sergeants, corporals, and privates, separated into two teams, Alpha and Bravo, one led by a sergeant and the other by Ghost. He had you follow him close, a way to watch how you did on the field. You made quick work of them, they were weak, disorganized, and fought with each other when they had no one to lead them. A pity for what used to be a big problem.

You were left on your own, Ghost having gone north to search for something. You had taken down the surviving men, pouncing on them in the dark. When you were done, you wiped your blade on your forearm, cleaning it from the iron stench of blood.

"Could've left one alive, Hunter," Ghost's deep growl made you jump, twisting to meet his dark eyes. They seemed endlessly black, like a void of darkness. "I'm bloody hungry..."

He crept closer, steps slow and purposeful, as if trying to spook you. He stopped before a fresh body, one you muffled and stabbed. The body was still warm, blood pooling from the wound and eyes glossed over with death.

"Hungry, sir?" you asked, unsure of what he meant or if he had muttered it to himself.

He hadn't replied, head turning to examine the rest of the corpses, strewn around you like a gift. A growl rumbled in his chest, mist rolling off his body like a crashing wave. It filled the area around you and tickled your feet in its cold, dark embrace. You watched the fog cover the laying corpses, dissolving and swallowing them into its murkiness.

When he meant by hungry, he actually meant eating humans, you shouldn't have been surprised, a was a wraith hybrid. Spirits of the dead that hate and haunted the living. It made more sense when he told you to let one alive, wraiths preferred living souls, dead ones were still filling but tasted lesser.

"Clean kills, " he finally spoke, his voice a timber lower than it was before his dinner. "Good job, corporal."

You nodded at him, stomach fluttering with his compliment, a praise from such a man - monster - was a prize, something he rarely gave to other soldiers. You smiled under your gaiter, you wore it for better protection in the sandy deserts of Al Mazrah.

"I'll remember leaving some alive next time, L.T."

He craned his head to look at you before he left, eyes squinted in what seemed like a smirk - devilish, you hoped - and gave you a firm nod. You scrambled to follow him, watching his broad, dark back as you walked a few steps behind him. He hadn't spoken a word to you since you got to exfil, but once you landed at the base, he motioned for you to follow him with the jerk of his wrist.

Ghost wasn't so bad if you got past the glaring image of danger he portrayed and the growls he gave. You couldn't wait to work with him again or with the others.

Gaz was a harpy, a very interesting and useful monster to have on your team. He was nice, not as chatty as Soap was, but he talked to you and smiled your way. His caramel-dipped smiles were to die for. He was easy to talk to, by far easier than your lieutenant had been at the start.

You saw him a lot in the rec room, sipping on tea or scrolling through pages on his phone. He was comfortable with you as you were with him, he let his talons out, lounging with his wings across the couch or over your lap as you cleaned them for him. The ever-so-teasing gentleman had a way with his words and his wits, often leaving you flustered or annoyed at his jabs.

Being a harpy meant he was light, bones hollow yet sturdy enough for a human body fitting his strong and slimmer frame. He could fly, and he became much more agile, more so than Soap's werewolf form (birds were naturally more graceful than canines) and he had a telescopic vision, razor-sharp and precise, more than any humans or monsters could have, it rivaled the falcon's keen sight.

If he was so light, agile, and all-seeing, without forgetting he could fly, how did he manage to fall from a helicopter not once, but twice? That question bothered you often, lingering at the back of your mind like a ghost (more so than the wraith himself that kept appearing at random and old moments behind you).

"You can fly, right?" you stared at his face, blank of any expression after finally mustering the courage to ask him.

"These wings aren't just for show, " Gaz hummed, leaning back into the chair that he brought out to watch Soap and Ghost spar. You would have your turn with the wraith after their matches.

"Then how do you manage to fall from a heli twice?" you shot, brows scrunched in a frown, confused.

His wings jerked, black feathers twitching at the reminder - an embarrassing one - of falling out, smiling sheepishly. He simply shrugged, every limb stretching, his wings lengthening to his whole span and toed talons stretching and curling. You were struck by its sharpness, his long nails and claws could cut a man in half, or completely sever a limb off.

You guess you'll never have an answer to your question, he could keep his pride and you could keep your question to yourselves. You wouldn't mind doing so, he let you preen his wings, you could touch those soft feathers and pluck dead or broken ones from his perfect plumage.

Alejandro Vargas, an unmarried and very eligible bachelor with a smooth tongue and a growl of a Mexican accent. He seemed almost too real to be true when he smiled charmingly your way, his perfect, white teeth glimmering under the yellow bulbs and his shiny, sweat-coated skin glowing golden after a mission.

Alejandro's a chivalrous person - and they said chivalry was dead - he's caring and protective. The Los Vaqueros, cowboys, were his team in Las Almas, a family that grew with every new batch of recruits and men and women devoted to the small village they grew up in. Mexicans were a tight-knit community from what you've seen in Alejandro's and Rudolfo's stories.

He was good, handsome, and strong, maybe too perfect to be human, and human, he wasn't. He's a shifter, like Soap, a full-bodied shifter from human to monster. Not unlike his human side, his Nagual side was mighty and honorable, a greater man and an even greater Nagual.

Although solitary by nature, Alejandro was a sociable character, the life of the party if he could, but he was also a responsible man. He was tall, but taller when shifted, claws sharp and a tail helped him balanced.

Once, you'd seen him shift, yellow and brown-dotted fur sprouting from his skin. His lower jaw had protruding canines, standing proudly over the ridge of his nose. He looked like a jaguar hybrid, wearing his golden fur like a crown

His other one, a panther, a jaguar born with more melanin than the usual one, was just as majestic. His fur was a darkened grey with black spots dotting his back and tail. He tended to use this form in darker places, or at night, hitting for efficiency and silence.

Captain Price, you knew he was a monster since your arrival, his long, green tail dragging behind him. You never bothered asking whether he was a lizard or a dragon, you only knew that his scaly tail was reptile-like in origin.

His smoking habit, girthy cigars burning and smoking at the edge, his chapped lips wrapped around the base of it as dark smoke leaked from the sides of his lips, curling in the air and around his beard.

Sometimes, there would be smoke without his cigar being lighted, a dry and unlit stick that still smoked. Charred gas, too dark to simply be cigar smoke. It came from him, inside, you concluded. Dragons could breathe fire and smoke, create it from within and push it out. Stirring around the mass of heat could feel overwhelming, warm, and uncomfortable without a release.

"Why cigars?" Price coccked his head, bro lifted at your question. "Helps me curb the need to burn." He breathed out another cloud, watching it swirl around his golden eyes. He explained it well and simply. Though he also liked the taste of it, an authentic, earthy texture.

Other than the occasional scales here and there that popped out, you've never seen his shift. Did he turn and grow like Soap and Alejandro? Did he change like Ghost and Gaz? Or did he have a dragon spirit? You were, albeit worried about prying, curious about your Captain's change.

Your chance appeared when he called you to his office, wanting your help with something related to his wing- wings? You weren't expecting much, maybe seeing a glimpse of the tip of his wings or the sharp edge of his horns.

He was leaning against his desk when you knocked on his door, letting you in with a sharp grunt. He was hunched over his desk, his wing, green and wide, stretched out. His bucket hat laying on his table, letting his horns grow out and curve upwards, both green and shiny. His tail was violently and anxiously swishing back and forth, hands and arms overturned with scales. His fingers turned green and callused, his nails became sharp claws and tinted green.

"You've got softer hands than any of those blokes, Hunter," Price said, his reason for calling you was for your talented hands, skilled at massages and with the knife. "Lost it in a crash, 's fine."

Although for a reason, you still got to see every part of him, hear the story behind his missing wing, and share a few pleasantries. He groans and grunts during your sessions, but the muscles on his back were less tense and strained.

Price wasn't one to brag about himself, tell his exploits to others, but yours, he did, how skilled your hands were at loosening the knots on his back and shoulders, turning them putty under your palms. Soap had come rushing, following your scent until he found you, for a massage like the one Price got.

You sighed, this wasn't what you signed up for, the sudden rush of adrenaline or scares they would cause, popping or jumping out of nowhere when you had your back turned. Some - Soap, Rudy, and Gaz - were mischievously childish, loving pranks as much as they did them. You'd get white hair before you hit your late 20s.

Fortunately, the three others were far more mature, one charming, one broody, and one proud. You don't regret joining, even with being the weakest and only human in the Task Force, the 141 was your family, a dysfunctional one with an occupational hazard, but still a little family.

After all, big, broad men working by your side on a daily had its perks, and brought a big, horny problem.

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myriahkamm · 6 months

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Blanket progress so far:

A bit over halfway done. May take a break from it to do a couple hats (so I don't feel so far behind on Christmas projects lol).

#myri speaks #myri knits #knitting #hand knitted #i feel very far behind #house hunting has been taking a lot more of my time than i anticipated #but that's almost done thankfully

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d1xonss · 2 months

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Could you do a Daryl x reader where at first he doesn’t like her, and she tries to get to know why hes so mean to her? Maybe he yells at her and then some comfort after?

Pretty When I Cry

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 1

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Angst/Fluff

✧ Word Count : 4k

AN ~ This is a very cute idea. I've been wanting to write something for season 1 Daryl because he's just such a cutie pie, but I didn't really have any good ideas. Though I think if he were to ever snap and "be mean" it would surely be in the beginning; his sassy era lol. But thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!

In an instant it seemed like, all of humanity was completely flipped upside down. You were on your way to work when the chaos all erupted, dead people coming back to life and the military taking matters into their own hands. Bombing places left and right even if that meant killing the ones who weren’t infected. The entire thing shook you more than you were ever willing to admit, after all, you were more fragile, soft and clearly not built for whatever the world was suddenly turning into.

But to your surprise, you made it out alive. Traumatized, sure, but alive.

You seemed to count your blessings every single day since then, thankful for every little thing that had happened to you since. Luck seemed to shine down upon you as you weren’t alone for long, finding a small group camped out in the high mountains merely days after everything went down. They all welcomed you with open arms, clearly taking a liking to your kindness and wanting as many people to come together as they could get. After all, it’s all that was left of the world. People you could rely on.

You grew to love the tight knit group, forming friendships with people you never would’ve guessed you’d meet in a million years. You also tried to keep yourself busy, wanting to be as useful as possible and provide what you could for the others. Not because you felt obligated to, but because you simply wanted to. Things like cooking, collecting berries and mushrooms, doing laundry, anything you could find to help contribute.

Something you seemed to be ashamed of however, was that you couldn’t really do any of the “heavy lifting.” You had never fired a gun in your life, that alone narrowed down the list. Not being able to stay on watch, not being able to hunt, and…not being able to take care of the dead things that sometimes wandered all the way up here. At first, the thought of you being weaker than the others never even crossed your mind. It was only brought to your attention when a certain man began to poke fun at you because of how small he saw you.

Merle Dixon was a grade A asshole to put it bluntly. Ever since he and his brother showed up to be a part of the group later on, he had made it his mission to annoy and harass you whenever he saw the opportunity. You couldn’t figure out why you were his main target, his main source of entertainment, but you could only guess it was because he always got under your skin in a way he was able to see. That, and he tended to make you cry. He even gave you a nickname because of it after a while, one that you absolutely hated. And he knew it too.

Although Merle was someone you couldn’t stand, his brother Daryl however was…different. He could still be snappy and hot headed just like the other one you supposed, but he had never acted that way towards you surprisingly. His main target was Shane, and honestly, who could blame him? There were many times where the man would take things too far and Daryl would put him in his place, unaware of the watchful wide eyes that watched the interaction. He never seemed to care, wanting to tell everyone how it was without a single ounce of regret. You sort of envied him for that small little thing.

You had never stood up to anyone in your life, always too scared of the outcome and you hated being yelled at more than anything in the world. So it was safe to say you avoided confrontation at all costs. Clearly, as you hadn’t found the strength to stand up to Merle since he got here. But though neither of the brothers particularly cared for you, you were still kind to them just like you were to everyone else. You didn’t miss how the others in the group would almost look down on them in a way you couldn’t understand, so you wanted to be the one who provided just that little bit of kindness. It really went a long way, or at least that’s what you believed.

Though you had to admit, it was a little difficult sometimes. There were moments where you just wanted to yell in frustration, curse at Merle for how he always treated you and how Daryl typically sat there and did nothing. But you always managed to cool off, reminding yourself that they most likely acted like this because of something from their past. Something they couldn’t control. Who were you to treat them differently because of that? It was hard to stay strong at times, but in the end, you always seemed to send them a small smile.

You currently busied yourself on just the outskirts of the camp past the trees, finding and picking a few berries to bring back seeing as the group was running a bit low. And every bit of food counted these days. Your gaze stayed down as you chose the ripest ones, placing them in the little woven basket you brought to gather as many as you could for the time being. Though upon your hunt for different kinds of plant based things you could eat, your eyes happened to catch a mere glimpse of something colorful a few feet away.

To your surprise, it was a small patch of wildflowers growing together, each a different beautiful color and only a reminder to you that the world wasn’t completely dead. There were still many beautiful aspects along the way, even though a bit of hope may be lost, it was little things like this that brought a smile to your face. So you decided to wrap it up, bring back the things you’d collected along with picking one of the small flowers, putting it behind your ear for now to take back and put in your tent with the rest of your things. You had the idea of pressing it into one of the pages of a journal you kept.

You then found yourself slowly trailing back towards the site, almost dreadfully as you could predict what was coming next. You could practically hear it in the back of your mind like it was burned into your memory. Merle’s phantom voice echoed in your mind, knowing he would most likely call out to you the moment he noticed your presence reenter the space. But again, you reminded yourself to just try and be kind. It was the one thing you were best at.

Slowly but surely you made it past the treeline, and only about eight seconds passed before you heard a loud wolf whistle from your left along with the same booming laugh. Like he amused himself or something.

“There she is!” he called from the space in his and Daryl’s separate camp away from the others, “It’s weeping willow.” he smiled widely in hopes to get a reaction out of you.

You sighed as you sent him a small smile, “Still not my name Merle.” you reminded as you just tried to walk past him.

But it wasn’t that easy. It was never that easy. He easily stepped in front of you to block your path, the smirk still plastered on his face. “Close enough.” he waved off, “Besides, I wanna see what you so kindly brought back for me.” he said before quickly snatching your basket out of your hands.

Your eyes slightly widened as you tried to grab it back, but he pulled it away faster. “Merle.” you huffed as you attempted to reach for it again, but he only moved it away quicker. Every move you made, he would make as well, purposefully keeping it from you as he started to walk backwards for you to follow.

Like dangling a damn carrot in front of your face.

Your frustration grew as you continued to follow and reach for it as he laughed, watching your attempts and fails. You could feel your cheeks beginning to heat up in embarrassment now, sensing Daryl’s eyes watching the interaction as he made a few bolts by the small fire they had set up. He sat there still, doing nothing as per usual as he watched the interaction unfold right in front of him.

“Merle, please. It’s for the group.” you tried as you reached for it again.

But he pulled it out of your reach as you stood face to face, “Well, I’m a part of that group ain’t I? I think I deserve this just as much as the next bastard. Unless of course you have a different opinion bout that…” he trailed off as his smirk grew.

You sighed, “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. It’s for everyone.” you clarified kindly.

The man only laughed at you, and you quickly began to feel the familiar lump forming in your throat, trying desperately to swallow it down and not let your emotions escape. It was obvious you were sensitive, but also having to fight the same fight over and over again, it got old quicker than you would admit. You could hardly stand these interactions anymore without at least tearing up a little at his teasing and taunting.

Finally after having enough, you reached out quickly and managed to snatch the basket back from him in one quick motion, placing it on your arm as your brows furrowed a little in frustration. Merle’s eyes widened a bit at the fast unexpected action, before he started smirking all over again once he caught the expression on your face.

“Oooh look at that. I almost got ya to snap.” he poked as he swayed a little clumsily on his feet, most likely a little drunk or high would be your best guess.

Sighing to yourself again to calm down, you shook your head as you knew of his only goal, “I’m not snapping.” you stated calmly.

Though he clearly didn’t believe you, wanting to push you even more. His eyes traveled away from your eyes as he grinned wickedly, pointing to your ear. “What’s this lil thing?” he asked. Your eyes widened a little, but before you could even react, he quickly snatched it away all while pulling your hair a little in the process.

Your hand reached again, “Merle, come on, please.” you spoke desperately as you moved to keep up with him, before your frame accidentally stepped a little too far to the left.

In a fit of embarrassment and clumsiness, your foot accidentally knocked over a bucket that was sitting a little too close to the fire. The only problem was, Daryl’s freshly made bolts were sitting in there, now being engulfed in the flames. Your eyes widened in horror as you quickly scrambled back, watching Daryl instantly stand to his feet in an attempt to save what wasn’t ruined. But it was too late.

“Son of a bitch!” he cursed loudly as he bent down to pick up the bucket.

One of your hands came up to your mouth as you couldn’t believe what you had just done, freezing in place as you now didn’t know what to do. You knew you were in deep shit already, but when Merle suddenly paused just as you did, you knew you were royally fucked as the two of you just watched Daryl stare down at the fire motionlessly.

Eventually you found your voice, stepping forward a little to reach out to him, “Oh my God, Daryl I’m so sorry-”

But your words clearly didn’t mean a thing. He slapped your hand harshly away from him as his head snapped up to look at you, a fire of his own growing in his eyes. “What the hell is wrong with ya?!” he screamed.

You instantly flinched back at his sharp tone, the lump once again forming in your throat as you desperately tried to keep yourself together, “It was an accident-”

“Do ya even know how long it took me ta make those?” he asked angrily, not even bothering to wait for an answer. “Nah…course ya don’t. Cause you don’t do anything around here! Always just sittin in yer own little fairytale, smilin without a goddamn care in the world, when in reality you just fuckin ruin everything!”

His words cut through you like a knife. But not one that was sharp. One that was dull, just sawing back and forth relentlessly and hurting you even more than you could’ve ever imagined. Your eyes quickly filled with tears, not even knowing what to say as he was clearly about to blow up even more with how angry he grew.

He scoffed once he saw how speechless you became, “Just get the hell outta here.” he spat harshly as he got up closer to your face, aggressively pointing off into the trees.

Tears began to pour down your cheeks at the last of his words, not even wasting another second as you dropped the basket from your arms before taking off in the other direction in a flash. Your chest heaved as you moved quickly through the trees, not being able to get alone fast enough so you could finally let everything out. You almost couldn’t believe the things that just happened, how everything got so messed up after you swore you were making progress with the two of them. But you weren’t. And perhaps you never would, that being something you would just have to accept.

Though finally after feeling like you walked quickly for miles, you came to the clearing of the large quarry, slumping down near the water before you began to sob all by yourself. You let everything out, every built up emotion poured out of you like a rush of water. You could’ve sworn you cried so much that you could fill a quarry of your own, knowing that those emotions were really the only thing you were good at. Crying could be an olympic sport, and you would win first everytime given the chance.

But that thought only got you thinking more, making you stew over Daryl’s words. Maybe he was right. Anyone could say that it was the heat of the moment, his anger, insults just spilling out of his mouth that were simply not true. But in a way, you knew how true they were. You had to admit that you did feel useless as you hugged your knees to your chest, covering your face as you sobbed even more. You didn’t have useful skills like some of the others, not being able to prove yourself as you truly were weak when it came to a world like this. All you ever wanted to do was be kind, provide for the people you cared about most. But your outlook got ruined in an instant, quickly replaced with a new one that you would surely think about forever.

It was funny, you thought. You once heard Merle’s faint voice playing in your mind repeatedly, but now…you only heard Daryl’s. His insults, his harshness, it was something you never would’ve guessed or expected from him. But now you knew that you had just ruined everything, when all you wanted was to help.

You didn’t know how much time you spent alone, crying off and on to yourself the more you allowed your mind to run, but you could only assume it was a fairly long time. The sun was beginning to set in the sky, the little bit of light that was left shone over the water in front of you, making it sparkle as your tears continued to blur the scenery. You sniffled as you wiped your cheeks over and over again, wanting to pull yourself together enough to be able to show your face again back at camp. But the embarrassment was still weighing heavily, almost a crushing pressure.

But then all your attention was pulled to a shuffling noise coming from behind you, causing you to whip your head around in a panic to see where it came from. Though the sight was more surprising than you could’ve ever prepared yourself for. Daryl slowly emerged from the trees with a hesitant look on his face, and your eyes widened as you quickly turned your head back in the opposite direction. You didn’t want to look at him. You couldn’t even bring yourself to understand why he had come out here. He had already done enough, he made his point crystal clear. You were just silently hoping he didn’t come out here to yell at you again.

Daryl on the other hand felt an immense amount of guilt. His chest tightened a little as he caught barely a glimpse of your red, puffy eyes and your tear stained cheeks, knowing he was the cause of it. He couldn’t describe how it made him feel, but all he knew was he was wishing he could take it all back if it meant not having to see you cry. His brother already caused you to break down enough, he didn’t want to be the cause of that too. And yet, he was.

The man slowly walked up to where you sat near the blue water, the rocks crunching beneath his boots louder and louder as he approached. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you just prayed he would go away, not wanting to interact with him after everything. But Daryl was stubborn, and he didn’t want you out here all night just because you were nervous to come back.

“Dinner’s almost ready.” he said a bit awkwardly, stopping just a few feet away from you. You heard him loud and clear, but you said nothing, not really in the mood to eat. Facing the group after they surely heard the scene that went down, it all sounded like a nightmare.

Daryl sighed heavily as you didn’t respond, you didn’t even look in his direction. Acting as if he wasn’t here at all. “Hey.” he called.

“...Why do you hate me?” you whispered, still not facing him as you spoke.

He almost questioned what you had said, but then it seemed to hit him all at once just how badly he had fucked up with all this. The one girl that showed him a kindness he had never seen, now thought he wanted nothing to do with her from the projected words he spat at her.

He let out a soft breath as he closed his eyes momentarily, stepping up a little closer, “I- I don’t…I don’t hate you.” he said quietly.

You didn’t react, so he managed to push himself a little further than what he was comfortable with. He moved to slowly sit down beside you, keeping some distance, yet he wanted you to know he was there. That he meant it. “I don’t hate you.” he said again.

“You act like it.” you were quick to say as you turned your head to look him in the eye, “I…I don’t even know what I did…” you said, your voice quiet and broken.

The man stared at you for a long moment, before slowly shaking his head, “Ya didn’t do nothin…it’s…it’s hard to explain. But I guess I never really understood…why yer so nice. Thought maybe ya just wanted somethin from me…I dunno.”

You shook your head a little in disbelief, “I’m nice because I care…that’s it.” you assured as you didn’t want him to think otherwise. But you supposed hearing his reasoning out loud made a little more sense, seeing as how you truly were the only one nice enough to show your kindness to the brothers. He was skeptical because no one had done that for them before, the thought nearly broke your heart.

A long moment of silence passed between the two of you, before you were the one to break it, “Listen…I’m so sorry about what happened. I didn’t mean to ruin what you worked so hard on, it was an accident.”

Though Daryl quickly shook his head, “Nah, don’t be. If anythin, I should be apologizin for what I said. I…I didn’t mean none of it…”

You stared at him with a soft expression, “But you were right…everything you said-”

“Everything I said was bullshit.” he said bluntly, looking at you with a seriousness in his eyes, “I say a lotta stupid shit I don’t mean when m’ angry, and this ain’t no different, ya hear me?”

“But it’s true.” you argued gently before looking back out into the water, “I don’t know how to help out…how to survive in a world like this. I always try to do what I can, but it’s never enough.”

Daryl paused as he saw the sadness behind your eyes, a sudden feeling overtaking him as he wanted to say or do something that would get you to smile again. “Hey, that ain’t true. Ya go out and scavenge, ya help cook the food that’s brought back…ya even helped stitch Glenn up when the dumbass hurt himself.”

His words caused a small laugh to escape your lips as you looked back over to him, “Well I knew he would somehow mess it up even more if he did it himself…I didn’t have a choice with that one.”

“Nah…ya did.” he said seriously, “Ya always have a choice, and I see ya puttin others before yerself all the time. That’s somethin ya should give yerself credit for.”

Your eyes softened the longer you looked at him, a small smile forming on your face just seeing how much he cared. Even if he wasn’t willing to admit it out loud just yet. “Thank you.” you said quietly.

Daryl felt his face grow a little hot as he ducked his head, clearing his throat a little awkwardly, “Yeah, no problem…” he muttered before it looked like he suddenly remembered something. “Oh, and uh…I brought ya this.” he said before revealing the hand that sat behind his back.

You looked down to see it was the same small flower that Merle took from you, sitting in the palm of his hand as he held it out to you. Your eyes widened a little as your small fingers delicately took it from his grasp. “You got it back?”

“Uh, no that one was all smushed by the end of…everythin. So I went and got ya a new one…hope that’s okay.” he explained a bit quietly.

Your smile grew as your eyes lit up at the simple kind gesture, one you would have never expected from him. “It’s perfectly okay…thank you.” you said sincerely, raising it up to place it behind your ear.

He nodded a bit awkwardly as he watched you for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip. “Alright, well come on.” he muttered as he stood back up to his feet, “Best be gettin back.” he spoke, hesitantly extending a hand out to help you up.

His actions surprised you a bit, but that didn’t stop you from taking his hand, letting him help you stand before the two of you slowly headed back through the woods. You half expected complete silence as you walked side by side with him, but he managed to keep a conversation with you as if he suddenly enjoyed your company. Though maybe he always did, he was just cautious as he didn’t always trust people as easily as you did. But you were growing more hopeful as he slowly came around, finding you had to be patient to see how much of a gentle person he really was.

From that day on, you and Daryl had slowly gotten more comfortable with each other. You wouldn’t really call it a friendship per se, but it was something the two of you very clearly cherished. But that wasn’t the only thing that seemed to change.

Merle’s attitude toward you seemed to have completely flipped from what you had grown accustomed to. He rarely ever spoke to you again after that day, and if he did it was always something short and simple, not an insult in sight. Though you were a little surprised, a part of you had a feeling who changed his mind about you.

~ Thanks for reading!

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swordsmans · 2 months

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i just really, really love the idea of zoro having no real "survival skills" because he had a much more traditional (if atypical) childhood/youth than most of the crew. bandit heritage aside, he was raised in a tight-knit and relatively peaceful community with (at best) agricultural outskirts. he doesn't leave until he's much older, at which point he becomes a bounty hunter as a way to make money (to pay for food, shelter, etc. presumably in villages, towns, and cities). we know from the non-canon johnny and yosaku backstories that he "hunted" for bounties in cities/towns, at least partially.

meanwhile luffy has been running around the wilderness since he was like seven years old, securing his own food, building fire and shelter, and just generally toughening up/learning how to live in nature. we know he had a pretty extensive knowledge of bugs and how to catch them, so with that + his childhood i don't think it's a stretch to assume he also has an understanding of edible plants and non-monstrous wildlife (even if its not all applicable outside the East Blue). he's survived on his own in the wilderness for years at a time at least twice in canon.

i think it's fun to think of them having... some sort of "zoro is lost in more ways than one" kinda vibe early on in their journey, especially since they're constantly broke pre-timeskip and we know that at least by little garden the crew has started hunting and foraging to supplement their stores. you could absolutely rope the rest of the east blue grew into this, but zoro is still sort of the outlier with his background.

i dunno. maybe i just like the image of luffy trying to teach zoro how to hunt or fish and both of them just having the dumbest time with it. luffy would be really earnest but impatient--and zoro would be stubborn about admitting he doesn't know shit but would still listen and absorb anyway.

luffy having no clue how to start small and work up to new skills, so they end up going after massive wild boars or something as a first or second lesson and zoro just rolls with it because sure, yeah, thats normal. what the hell does he know? (and also hes fucking. zoro. so.)

or luffy teaching zoro to fish normally but also like a bear fishes (standing knee-deep in the water and catching fish with his bare hands) because it looks more fun that way and he cant. and zoro just fucking up soooo bad but getting really competitive anyway, even though luffy is just, like, sitting on a nearby rock yelling (frankly terrible) directions at him or something. zoro catches nothing and luffy tells him he looks stupid getting angry at the river so of course zoro is going to master fucking. bare-handed fishing because the man's got one braincell and its 99% stubborn pride.

he fucking sucks at starting a fire, wouldnt even consider building proper shelter, and in general would not make it 0.2 seconds outside a populated environment without his captain--a guy raised by the jungle and ace, who was basically a wild animal himself.

idk. survival-competent luffy is very near and dear to my heart.

#not really a country/city dynamic because its like... not that. but luffy is basically the east blue les stroud and thats so funny to me #a bear grylls kinda guy #which is to say nothing of their differences in formal education #dunno if ill write another fic about it but its like... the other side of math/bilingual zoro headcanons to me #i think about this more often than i should tbh #zolu #gyro.txt

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fatallyfalling · 5 months

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Secrets & Sugarcubes ~ ♆

“ Sugarcube ? “

warnings: hurt/comfort, typical Hunger Games violence/trauma, mention/insinuation of forced prostitution, ptsd, soft reassurances, possible slight ooc?? Finnick fears physical touch, end is very fluffy with some slight cuddling, etc.

{{ word count }} 4.0 k

{{ Prompt }} The two of you had a game, a way of trading secrets when the world felt too big and a simple touch felt like a burn on Finnick’s skin. You always made sure to keep a tin of sugarcubes in your kitchen just in case.

{{ a/n }} I swear i know how to write happy things guys i promise akfkakkdka the next one will be tooth rottingly sweet i promise please bear with me >< ! I hope the length of this one makes up for it being a day late as well. This also might seem a bit ooc for Finnick? Not sure - but here is my full headcanon, I'd suggest reading it before this to better understand why Finnick is behaving the way he is as it's explained a bit more in-depth. Reader and Finnick are also rather affectionate with one another but there isn’t an established relationship yet between them. Please enjoy <3

Tip, Tap, Tip-Tip, Tap

Your door creaked under the coded knock, a beat of silence following before it was repeated on the old wood. Your nose scrunched in a perplexed manner, groggily padding down the stairs in your night clothes to your front door, a glimpse at the mahogany grandfather clock in the entryway tells you it’s well past midnight. Your confusion pooled into a sense of concern as cold fingers gripped the metal door handle and gave a firm tug. You knew the knock and who was behind the door as you started speaking before even meeting his gaze, the scent of almonds and honey tainted by a sickly layer of Capital roses filling your senses.

“What’s going on? It’s late. You should be asle-“

Your sentence was cut short as your gaze met a pair of bleary sea-green eyes. You knew the look too well as a frown settled on your lips, your shoulders sinking with your heart as you took in the male before you. “Oh, Finn..” You mutter as you open the door further to let him inside. He hesitates in the doorway, looking lost, but you give a flickering nod of encouragement, convincing him to cross the threshold.

“Come on, I’ll make some tea..”

Nodding towards the kitchen, he wordlessly treks after you. Finnick’s steel-colored dress shirt was well wrinkled, unbuttoned to his clavicle, and sleeves pushed past his elbows. His face didn’t look much better than his suit. His bronze waves were messy, brows sewn in with a tight jaw, and hunched shoulders added to an unsteady demeanor. You could only assume what had occurred earlier in the night while attending the latest Capital party before the famed “Capital’s Darling” appeared on your doorstep. The growing pit in your stomach churned at the thought, and a muscle fluttered in your jaw as you led the victor deeper into your home.

Settling into what sometimes felt like a nightly routine, you get to work on the tea. You also place a small tin on the counter before Finnick, his gaze dancing between your fingers and the tin as you do so. His hands were trembling.

“I think the sweater you left the other day is upstairs. I can get it if you’d like,” You offer while setting the kettle to simmer on the stove. Finnick shakes his head with a soft, tight-lipped hum. He was distracted, flicking his thumbs against the pads of his index fingers over and over again.

“I thought it might help to change...” You allow while stumbling over an apology. You round the counter in a retreat to hunt down the knit item. But you misjudge the distance. Your shoulder accidentally brushes his in a fleeting move that instantly causes recoil and a sharp inhale on Finnick’s part as if he’d been singed by a flame.

“Please,”

The word was strained in his throat as anguish flooded his tanned features. Your eyes widened at your misstep, immediately backtracking to provide more physical space between you. But your frown only deepens as you stare at one another for a fleeting moment before Finnick all but crumples in on himself, descending to the hardwood floor.

Heartbreak splinters through your chest like a knife, bringing yourself down with him as knees meet the polished wood with a thud. Taking further notice of his trembling, it spread up his arms and across his torso now, fists bunching the fabric of his sleeves. The victor wet his lips as his eyes screwed shut, visibly trying to push back whatever threatened to plague his mind.

“I'm so sorry Finnick. Hey, hey- it’s okay, it’s just me, I'm here. I’m sorry, you’re safe with me. You’re going to be okay,” Apologetic pleas pour out in whispers, your head tilting to see beneath the bronze waves blocking his eyes. “You’re safe here,"

He doesn’t respond, only wetting his lips again with a thick swallow that moves his throat up and down. Your lips press to a thin line as you scan around you for anything that might help break the darkness obscuring his senses. Your own thoughts swim with curses for your mistake before your vision finally connects with the small forgotten tin on the counter. Cautiously you rise to retrieve it, your movements are slow, ensuring your hands remain within view, and keeping a safe distance between Finnick and yourself. Once the cool metal touches your skin you wrap your fingers around it, returning to kneel before the distressed Darling on your floor.

“Hey, do you remember our game ?”

A small ‘click’ chirps out as you open the tin. Dozens of small white sugarcubes sparkle inside, gently shifting to let the tin rest between you two. Finnick’s eyes peek out in a squint, dragging his gaze down to the tin and then back up to fixate on your face. He gives a tiny nod to indicate he’s listening, the trembling doesn’t stop.

“Okay,” you manage a small, warm smile briefly as you dip your head to peer into the tin. Plucking four cubes out, simultaneously sweeping your calves out from under you for a more relaxed sitting position, you gently place two near his knee while keeping the other two in your hand.

“One for yes, two for no,”

Gesturing to show the two options, gaining another nod from the trembling victor. At least his attention is focused on the sugar now. Sometimes it took much longer to bring him back enough just to open his eyes.

This was what Finnick Odair hid behind showboating grins and that “Golden Boy” Capital mask. The poltergeists of sticky, unwanted Capital fingers and lips left dozens of invisible burns engraved on his skin. You’d caught the bronze-haired male regularly picking an invisible piece of lint off his shirt or whichever shiny garment the stylists forced him to wear. Soon enough you managed to decipher the minute gesture as a tell to when the discomfort the tanned male felt on his skin too often was starting to eat away at his thoughts.

Never quite free of the forces from previous nights.

It tore open your heart to see him like this. Thrown to the mutts of the Capital under President Snow’s threat of his loved ones being tortured or worse killed if he didn’t comply, there really was no escape from the taloned clutches of winning the annual Hunger Games.

Nobody escapes The Games, and nobody ever wins.

As much as you desperately wanted to whisk the 65th victor away from his position he wouldn’t let you even if you tried, claiming he couldn’t bear to see you come into harm's way and that he’d rather endure the torture just to keep you safe. The seeping guilt you felt was immeasurable.

“I’ll begin, you just answer with the sugar okay ?”

Another small nod earns a second weak smile tugging at the corners of your mouth to reassure him.

“Are you okay ?”

There’s a pause as Finnick thinks, eyelids squeeze shut again but soon open as a shaky hand gently moves the tiny pieces of sugar forward.

Two cubes, ‘no’

“Are you hurt outside ?”

Two cubes, ‘no’

“Are you hurt inside ?”

Another pause, and then he gently scoots one of the cubes backward.

One cube, ‘yes’

“Can you tell me what hurts inside ?”

Finnick hesitates, his brow twitches with a small crinkle of his nose. You wouldn’t pry if he wasn’t ready, you’re patience was strong and you’d spend all night passing sugar on the floor if it meant he could find peace of mind. “You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to,”

Finnick didn’t have many choices or say in life due to his position in the capital, so you found providing clear options to be rather grounding for the Bronze-haired male. It gave him a sense of stability and control over himself and what was occurring around him. Keeping the questions of your game simple and to the point in turn made his responses quick, a distraction technique you had picked up a while back to combat your own struggles post-games.

Two cubes, ‘no’

“That’s okay,” your small smile strengthens as you give him a tender look, not of pity but empathy. “Can I help?”

One cube, ‘yes’

“Please…”

The repeated word is barely above a whisper. If you hadn’t been hyper-fixated on him you might not have caught the parting of his lips that dripped the morsel of sound. His gaze has moved up from the floor to meet yours, wide sea-green irises soft in a pleading expression. You simply nod, assuring him you’re staying right where you are. The tension in his body visibly releases as the reassurances seem to sink in. Gingerly, he releases his biceps, picking at an invisible speck of dust on his sleeve. He drags a hand through his tousled hair before taking it down his face to rub his eyelids. He inhales a deep, shaky breath. You let him take his time to recuperate. Once his hand returns to his lap and he meets your eyesight you resume the verbal questionnaire.

“Do you want your sweater ?”

One cube, ‘yes’

“Okay, just a second,” you smile warmly, he nods, and you slowly stand, making your way upstairs, finding the ivory knit sweater on your bedroom dresser right where he’d left it. Turning around, you retrace your steps back to the kitchen, making sure to avoid the steps that creak louder than others on your way. “Here you go,”

Placing the sweater down as you return to sit with the Darling, he waits for your hands to leave the fabric before picking up the thick material and tugging it over his head. It takes a minute to adjust the layers and his sitting position so they’re comfortable but when he’s done the steel grey button-up collar peeks out from under the angled neckline of the ivory sweater along with the tails of the neutral fabric sticking out under the bottom hem. The ends of the sleeves are stretched around his fingers to mimic mittens. “Better ?” You offer while he takes a moment to breathe in the familiar scent. The smell of Capital roses is quickly suffocated in his familiar warm almond and honey cologne mixing with your scent clinging to the sweater. A sweet smile softens your cheeks as he allows a small lopsided smile with a nod and a hum, the corners of his mouth twitching up at the comfort.

“Very much so.”

“Good,” you nod, “Do you want the citrus tea you like so much? The one with the cinnamon?” Quirking a brow with a small tilt of your head.

“mhm,”

One cube, ‘yes’

“Very well,” you smile sweetly, rising again to move back into the kitchen. You gently open a cupboard, plucking a viridian mug off the shelf for the Darling along with your usual mug. A delicate clink echos in the otherwise quiet space as you set the ceramics on the counter. Finnick has turned to peek up and watch.

His sea-green eyes were still big and pleading, not really ready to stand but also not wanting to be away from you. With the counter cutting off just below his irises and his bronze hair tossed around and fluffy like that you couldn’t help being reminded of a small puppy. You mouth another reassurance with a wink as your cheeks warm, pulling open a drawer to pick up two small objects. They’re burnished silver spheres of metal, split in half but held by a tiny latch and speckled in countless minuscule holes for the nectar of the teas to slip through.

Reaching for two narrow jars on your counter you slide them towards your workspace and unstick each lid with an odd “pop”. Whisps of warm cinnamon, citrus, cloves, and black tea mix with the scent of herbs and spices more aligned with your tastes. The teas were a luxury gift from Mags on your birthday a year or two ago. You only use them on special occasions or nights like these.

You take a small spoon and gingerly press the correct amount of leaves in each steeper, adding a few extra to Finnick’s as he preferred a more prominent flavor. Afterward, you lower the metal orbs into their respective mug and quietly clean your workspace. Once the items are back in place you turn and just about jump out of your skin with a yelp of surprise as the tea kettle’s shrill whistle sings loud and clear.

Quickly you fumble for a cloth on a hook beside the wide farmhouse sink. Wrapping it around the heated handle of the kettle you remove it from the flames and onto an unused burner before shutting off the stove. Your heart pounds as adrenaline courses through your veins like lightning. A curse dances off your tongue but your embarrassment is short-lived as a coy chuckle fills your ears, wrapping around your senses like a soft blanket. A relieving warmth weaves its way through your ribs and melts the icy heartache as you hear Finnick laugh again. Turning towards the sound you spot the bronze-haired male now standing at the counter, his forearms leaning on the cool stone. His hands are barely trembling now although his eyes seem far away but his demeanor has seemed to regain its footing, a flickering of his naturally charismatic aura passes through his pointed-to-white teeth in the form of a lopsided smile. Color has started to ebb its way back into his tanned cheeks. That warmth in your ribcage spreads up your neck but you try to shove it back down. The components of your game; all four sugarcubes and the tin are sitting beside his elbow on the counter. You cross your arms over your chest loosely, narrowing your eyes at him in a playful manner.

“It’s not funny,”

“You’re right it’s hilarious,” Finnick drawls, his tone cocky.

An exasperated huff puffs out your chest followed by a sarcastic roll of our eyes. “There’s the Finnick Odair I know and Love,” You sigh, mischief flickers in those sea-green eyes. Carefully bringing the kettle over after it has a moment to cool you pour the boiling water as evenly as you can before returning it to the stove. A comforting quiet falls over the two of you while watching the liquid within the mugs change color. Eventually, your gaze shifts to watching Finnick slowly build a tiny pyramid out of the sugarcubes. The pristine wall of white crystals stands for all but ten seconds (not even) before the victor’s gentle tap sends it crumbling.

The joy from moments ago dissipates into something melancholic.

“Are you okay…?” You ask again, a crease forming between your brows as you search his sea-green eyes for any signs. Finnick gives you another tight-lipped hum, his smile has slipped away and you notice the set in his jaw returns. His gaze shifts from his folded hands to the sugar close by and hesitantly plucks up two of the four pieces.

Two cubes, ‘no’

“Still inside…?”

One cube, ‘yes’

“Still no touching?” Your voice is tender in a reassuring manner.

Two cubes, ‘yes’

Finnick understands that he’s safe. You’ll respect any boundary he chooses. You’re one of his few ‘safe’ individuals that he allows to fully trust besides Johanna, Mags, and Annie. Unfortunately, Annie was always rather emotionally distraught, meaning Finnick couldn’t be around her for long periods due to her tendency to claw at people during her episodes. It broke his heart to see the fire-haired victor he mentored through an awful arena be left so broken and afraid with limited ability to help her. But you did your best to pick up the slack in her care.

You were all damaged people just trying to survive the best you could with the hand you’d been dealt. No matter the cruelty of the dealer.

While caught up in your thoughts, the tea finished steeping. Gently, you slide the viridian mug of citrusy spices towards Finnick, who allows a small thanks and his “compliments to the chef” while plucking two sugarcubes from his fallen stack and dropping them into the burnt orange liquid.

“My pleasure,” you hum, fixing your tea how you like it and stirring the small steeper around the mug before lifting it from the drink and setting it off to the side. Finnick’s steeper soon follows. You’ll clean the sticky residue later.

Hot ceramic warms your fingertips as they curl around the mug, lifting it to your lips and parting them to give a gentle blow. Ripples of tea bounce around the rim, causing the curls of steam to dance around your cheeks. You inhale the Herbs deeply, and a calm feeling washes over your shoulders. The first sip immediately warms your insides as it goes down, observing the same reaction on Finnick as he takes a long swig of the tea followed by a hum of pleasure.

“Don’t burn your tongue it's still hot,” you murmur into your drink, the emitted sound coming out a bit warped. A ghost of a smile crosses the Darling’s face at your words, though he doesn’t reply, preferring another sip of the luxurious tea.

You already knew you wouldn’t hear the end of his dislike for the stinging on his tongue tomorrow from the burn.

You wish to reach out to him, brush your knuckles against his, or cup his stupidly handsome face in your hands, holding him close till all is better, but you can’t. You won’t. His safety and comfort is your priority right now, and you’ll always give him space when asked. You knew all too well what violation of space felt like.

“Are you feeling any better?”

You question the Darling while searching those sea-green eyes for any signs of pain.

Finnick offers a slight nod, casting a glance in your direction while adjusting the sugar.

One cube, ‘yes’

You nod in understanding. Even though the ache inside his chest still hurt you at least managed to help him start to move past it. The two of you stay at the counter for a long while. Secrets pass back and forth via sugarcube and Finnick has another cup of tea. You move in quiet tandem with one another as he preps the tea and you clean up your steeper and mug in the sink. Softly you hum a small rhyming tune from your childhood as you scrub along the inside of your mug, there’s a sense of domesticity in the air and you can’t help feeling more at ease.

Once everything is clean and put away except the sugarcubes you find yourself on your living room sofa, there’s a space between where your knees are tucked up against you and where Finnick sits. The tin of white crystals sits in that space, the Darling victor plucking up cubes every once in a while to suck on. He could eat all of them and you wouldn’t have minded.

The room is dimly lit, just the light from a lantern on the unused desk beside the fireplace. A soft glow is painted across Finnick’s features that makes his eyes sparkle and spread warmth up your cheeks, the tips of your ears surely going red. You try to suffocate the warmth as it threatens to bubble up past your grasp.

As time passes Finnick eventually speaks of what happened. You listen with full attention and offer much sympathy and reassurance once he’s finished. You thank the charming male for allowing himself to be open with you and he admits, “It’s easy to be an open book when it’s you,” and those sea-green irises seem to light up even more. That warmth twists your insides as your stomach does what feels like a backflip. “Thank you…for letting me in tonight,” he murmurs with that perfect smile, the outer corners of his eyes crinkle, and dimples press into his cheeks. The smile you return is equally as wide and sweet.

“Always. I’ll always be here Finn, and you’re welcome to stay here if you want tonight. There’s plenty of space,” You breathe through a slight laugh. The big house you were gifted in Victor’s Village was far too big to have just yourself anyway and this wouldn’t be the first time the Darling spent the night.

With a nod and a pat to the space between you, you nod towards the stairs before moving to snuff out the lantern. Finnick follows, closing the sugarcube tin and placing it on the coffee table. Quietly you two head upstairs, small giggles peppering the air as the stairs creak.

When you enter your bedroom you rummage in a drawer for a pair of sweats you had ‘borrowed’ from the Darling a while ago when it had been your turn to appear at his doorstep with tears in your eyes. “Here,” you speak gently while holding them out. A cheshire smirk creeps over Finnick’s face as he takes the pants.

“So that’s where these went~”

You shush him with a sarcastic wave of your hand, letting him go into the bathroom to change while you move to sit cross-legged on the plush mattress. You preferred sleeping with many soft blankets and pillows like your own nest. It helped you feel safe when alone - though most would end up kicked off or stolen by the furnace of a man you often shared the bed with. Your revenge usually came in the morning as your icy fingers assaulted the warmth of his lower back with a fit of laughter.

You smile tenderly at the thought as Finnick reappears.

“What?” He asks.

That coy smirk is still plastered on his lips as he comes over to sit beside you. “Hm? Oh - nothing. Lay down, I’m tired." You offer with a hum. He nods before joining you under the covers. You face one another, looking into each other's eyes. Slowly, you feel his hand creep over to yours and interlace your pinkie fingers.

“Is this okay?” Those heart-melting puppy dog eyes return. You can’t help the sweet smile on your face and the warmth on your cheeks.

“Always.”

@justtrying2getby

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