#Now he’s met you - feels comfortable and safe with you - he can finally let go. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dollfacefantasy · 5 months ago

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Dream Walking ♡

pairing: rick grimes x fem!reader

summary: you catch rick having a wet dream about you. you both try to move on from it, but with it stuck in each of your minds, it's near impossible to just go back to the way things were.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, dub-con, age gap (20s, late 30s), wet dreams, somnophilia

word count: 5.4k

Since the prison fell, you’ve had time to think about what it is you miss most. The security of the fences was nice, so was the comfort of the thin mattresses. There were also the routines everyone had fallen into that filled your days with a sliver of how life felt before everything went wrong. However, the piece you missed most, the thing you craved on nights like these, was the privacy of your cell.

You took those months for granted at the time. The ability to retire to your own space once the sun set was long gone. Now you lie with the rest of the group on the floor of this barn, sleeping all together like a pack of wolves in a den.

It wasn’t that it was horrible. You felt safe with everyone so close. You also didn’t have to worry about anything going wrong in the night without your knowledge. It just wasn’t as pleasant as getting to be alone at the end of the day when both your mind and body are tired. How you craved the sound of the steel bars shutting and the feeling of the lumpy pillow against your head.

But all that lies underneath a pile of rubble now. There was no use wishing for another time you’d never get back.

You sigh and roll onto your side. The thunder and rain outside was keeping you up. Your eyes scan the dark room to try and find another open pair, any one of your friends who would be able to suffer along with you. You don’t find any, which is a good thing you suppose, but now you’re left to lay all alone in hopes of sleep calling your name sometime soon.

You were in the corner of the barn with your jacket tucked under your head. That’s the spot you’d taken up as soon as people were picking where to sleep. You liked having walls to your back. It was less space for something to hide or attack from. Some of your friends like Abraham and Daryl lie along the walls like you while others like Carl and Michonne rest near the center, wanting to be close to any potential threat.

Rick sleeps a foot or two from you. He’s on his back, one arm behind his head while the other is draped over his abdomen. You can hear the deep and even rhythm of his breath, and you know that he’s out cold at least for the time being.

After a little while he rolls onto his side like you had, and you think that you’ve found someone to share your struggles with. When you look over at him though, his eyes are still shut, his lips are still parted, and his body is still limp.

Your lips purse with disappointment, but your eyes soften. He needed the rest. He’d been stretching himself to the limit ever since your group had barely made it out of Terminus alive. You understood why. The group needed somewhere stable to call home. You just wished he wouldn’t put that responsibility entirely on himself.

You always liked Rick. He’d taken you in a couple months after the outbreak when you were scared and alone, shaking and covered in blood on the side of the highway. You’d just seen the final members of your previous group fall victim to the dead. On the verge of giving up and letting a herd claim you too, you saw him dash by. He was looking for a missing little girl. Instead he’d found you.

Even on the farm when everyone was fighting over everything all the time, you admired him like you did now. It was almost weird to think of him now compared to back then. The clean-cut officer friendly you’d met a couple years ago now sported shaggy hair and a beard along with eyes always scanning for danger.

The crush you harbored for him was as strong as ever though. Not one thing about that had changed. Unlike his hair, you hadn't grown out of it in the slightest.

You continue watching him while the wind and rain team up to beat against the wooden slats of the barn walls. Interrupting your study of his features, he grunts. It’s quiet; so much so that you almost miss it amongst the other noise. It seems ordinary enough, but he does it again. And then again as he rolls further to his side so that he’s nearly on his stomach.

“Mmmm…” he sighs, “Fuck.”

Your eyes widen a little at that, but you smile, wondering what was frustrating him in the world of his dreams. His lips smack idly against one another for a moment before he speaks again.

“Just like that, baby. Atta girl,” he murmurs.

And now you’re really interested.

Your hand flies to your mouth to stifle your reaction. You didn’t know whether to laugh or try to wake him. You knew that waking him up would be the right thing to do… but you didn’t want to just yet. He rolls his hips against the hard ground he’s sleeping on, which you know can’t feel that good. But he does it again. And he looks like a divine being as he does so, everything about him enrapturing you.

Another low groan seeps from his mouth, and a couple incoherent words follow. You bite your lip and look around again to make sure no one else is watching you. You couldn’t help wondering who he was dreaming of. Maybe Lori still crossed his mind every once in a while or possibly he harbored some secret desire for someone in the group. Perhaps it was just a plain old sex dream and he was envisioning some woman he liked before the world changed.

“Fuck…” he grunts again, “Such a good girl.”

Warmth simmers to life in your belly, and you find your thighs rubbing against one another. Those two words were a weak spot of yours, so of course he'd have to rasp them out like that. You'd be lying if you said you'd never imagined them falling from his lips but hearing it in reality was so much sweeter.

His arms shift around as he continues trying to find some relief against the dirt. By this point, a bulge has formed at the front of his pants, and the sight is enough to make your mouth water. You know this is wrong, perving on him like this, but you swear to yourself that you're gonna wake him up. Just a few more seconds. Though before you get the chance, he moans again.

Among some expletives and praise, your name floats into the night. The syllables leak out in a hushed manner, but they send a jolt through you regardless. Your eyes widen and the heat in your tummy creeps up through your neck into your cheeks.

"Just a little deeper, dolly," he slurs, "That's it."

This time you're unable to repress the laughter that bubbles in your chest. The sound is soft, but it's enough to rouse him.

His eyes flutter open, his pupils still laden with sleep. It takes him a few seconds to register all that's going on.

"What're you gigglin' about?" he grumbles as he sits up and rubs his face.

But as soon as he moves, he becomes conscious of what was so amusing to you. He feels it rock hard against his thigh and flashes of his dream run through his mind. You can see it on his face, the embarrassment over the fact that he'd been caught having a wet dream. Caught by the very person it starred.

"Sorry," you simper.

He tries to maintain his usual stern temperament, but you see his humility in the flush of his cheeks. He can't look you in the eyes right now. His mind struggles to grasp the words that would make this better.

"Grow up," he mumbles as he starts to roll the other direction, "You've never had one of those? How old are you?"

"Old enough for you to dream about apparently," you say with another little laugh as you go to lay down yourself.

"Shut up," he mutters before closing his eyes again.

A few days went by before either of you addressed it. That was Rick's doing since he pretty much avoided you as best he could after it happened. It made you a little sad, but it was understandable. You probably would've done the same if the roles were reversed.

The group had left the shack from that night in search of more food and water. The bunch of you stagger in factions as you walk along some train tracks through the woods. Maggie, Glenn, and Tara lead at the front while Michonne with Carl carrying Judith linger a little behind them. You're trekking along with Sasha and Rosita before letting yourself fall back so you can be besides Rick.

"Are you mad at me?" you ask.

He glances over at you. "No, I'm not mad at you," he states matter of factly.

"It seems like you are."

"Why's that?" he asks.

"Cause you've been avoiding me," you say with a coy smile.

"I haven't been avoidin' you," he denies.

"Mhm," you respond, "C'mon, it's not that big of a deal. Things don't have to be weird now."

His eyes remain on you as if trying to analyze your intentions. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything," he says.

"The only thing making me uncomfortable is how awkward you are around me now," you say with a little feigned pout, "Seriously, I don't care. It was just a dream. People can't control dreams. It's not like I caught you jerkin’ off to a picture of me."

"Keep your voice down," he says, eyes flitting ahead to make sure no one had heard the topic of your conversation. He then sighs and runs a hand over his sweaty hair.

"C'mon, Rick," you say. You give his arm a little shove but do make a point to lower your volume. "I'm sorry for laughing at you."

"No you're not," he says and for the first time in days, he cracks a small smile.

Your face reflects his expression like a mirror. "Well... it was funny. But I still didn't mean to make you feel bad. It doesn't bother me or anything. I know dreams don't reflect real life," you reassure him.

He nods and remains quiet for a moment as the two of you continue down the tracks. You were slightly hoping he'd tell you his dream was based in reality. That he did want you while awake just as much as he did while he slept. But that was a wilder dream than the one that had caused all this.

He finally speaks and looks over at you again. "I appreciate you keeping it to yourself and not making a thing out of it."

"Of course," you beam at him, "I'm a good girl, remember?"

He gives you an unamused stare in response before lightly shoving the back of your head, guiding you back towards the rest of the group. Despite his outward annoyance, you could see the fondness return to his eyes.

It only took you a few weeks to make Rick regret his leniency in regards to your jokes. You still hadn't told anyone directly about his dream which he was grateful for, but people would probably find out soon enough with all your teasing and hinting.

At first, it seemed like you truly wanted to move on from it; leave what you'd witnessed in the past and forever wonder if the dream spawned from a place of true desire or just his brain fucking with him. Things were stressful enough for everyone during that week, especially Rick. The group had nearly succumbed to dehydration one day and struggled to find shelter for the next few.

But then you all had been invited to Alexandria. You and the others had been welcomed with open arms into a slice of the old world. Everything seemed to settle down for the most part. Your people were still on edge, Rick was ready for conflict at any moment, but no longer were you constantly worried about if you'd be able to find food or water.

And with things simmering down, Rick was pretty sure you decided that it'd be ok for you to turn the heat up.

It was after a week or so of being there that the jokes started back up. You'd reference the "good girl" part of it the most, but occasionally you'd mix it up and go for a "just like this, right Rick?"

Each little remark, every time your smug smile rose on your lips, the way you pranced around the community as if you knew a dirty little secret; it all compounded, a new stone being thrown at the glass that housed Rick's resolve.

Tonight he can't sleep. Everyone else in your group is passed out, exhausted from a long day. But he's wide awake. He feels restless. He shifts around on the sofa and sighs, rubbing his eyes.

Since joining Alexandria, everyone had begun easing up about sleeping arrangements. The first week, you all piled into one house and slept around the living room as if it was one of the sheds you'd been bouncing between before. But after some time went by, people began to spread out.

Everyone had basically claimed a house as their own by now, some sharing their's with a few other group members. Rick kept the one everyone had started off in. Carl and Judith slept peacefully in bedrooms of their own upstairs while he took the couch. Even though this place seemed like a paradise, he couldn't bring himself to trust it yet. He couldn't sleep in the master bedroom that was tucked away in the back of the second floor. It was the farthest from the stairs and all the doors. He'd never forgive himself if something happened and he wasn't in the position to protect his children.

Though they weren't the only ones in the house with him now. Peering down the hallway in front of him, he could see you. Despite how much you loved acting tough and teasing, underneath you were still vulnerable, and Rick wasn't blind to how you looked to him for comfort. When you came to him in the evening and asked to stay as everyone was heading off to their own beds, he couldn't say no. You could make all the bratty jokes and innuendos in the world, and he still couldn't stomach the thought of you feeling unsafe.

You were still sleeping on the floor against the wall. As much as you had missed your bed from the prison, you found yourself not ready to transition back to a mattress again when the time came. Rick understood. It felt weird going from the hard ground where you could spring to action in seconds to a comfy bed that cradled your form and kept you drowsy and unaware. At least in your place in the hall, you slept on some chair cushions he offered you so your body wasn't bare against the hardwood.

He watches you, taking in your sleeping form amidst the quiet of the house. A thin blanket covered most of your body, but he could still admire other parts of you from a distance. He could see the precious way your fingers curled around the edge of the fuzzy material draped over you. Your face looked so soft and delicate in its completely relaxed state. Your cute, plush lips were parted ever so slightly.

As his eyes raked over you, he felt something stir within himself. Instead of hearing your gentle breathing, the sounds his mind had created as you moaning in his dream played through his head. He tries to shake them away and think of other things, but you are all his brain wants to think about. If it's not you moaning or writhing in pleasure beneath him, it's how you giggle after telling one of your stupid jokes. It's the way your eyes widen with amusement when he growls "keep it down."

And if it's not that, earlier memories flicker through his internal vision. He can still remember the day he met you like it was last week. You standing there, bloody and shaking. Your eyes wide and darting around. So different from the you he saw today.

He sits up and scratches his jaw, feeling the skin that was now smooth from his recent shave. He still couldn't tear his eyes away from you. You had rolled over now, taking some of the blanket with you. He could see slivers of your legs and the roundness of your ass peeking from below the border of the blanket. Sighing, he leans back into the couch and pinches the bridge of his nose.

He had it bad for you, and he knew it. He just didn't like thinking about that fact or being cognizant of how pathetic he could be for you. Like having a wet dream. He hadn't had one of those in well over a decade before this last time. It was ridiculous.

It wasn't so much that he thought you didn't reciprocate. You were all but a petulant schoolgirl pulling her crush's hair for attention. Rather it was just that you were quite a bit younger than him, and it made him feel like shit. He supposed it didn't matter, being the end of the world and all. Things weren't the same as they used to be. It was a miracle to find anyone you could feel this way about now. But that didn't stop guilt from tying his intestines into knots every time he imagined anything more with you.

You didn't ease that feeling by toying with him so much either. Day in and day out, you practically begged for more out loud every time he came around you. His mind swirls with all the instances of your temptation, and in this moment, he really starts to feel that his guilt is unnecessary. It would probably return in full force tomorrow, but for right now, while he thinks of all the things you put him through, he feels like he deserves a little something for his troubles.

He stands up, and finds himself walking towards the area you sleep at the end of the hall. Any other man left in this world would have staked their claim on you by now. A pretty girl flagrantly throwing herself at the object of her affection. His honor held him back, but it wasn't like this was something so serious, right? Didn't he deserve to let go once in a while?

He crouches down next to you. At first, he only stares, but soon enough his hand follows. It starts on your shoulder, rubbing in a small circle. His palm then slides up and down your side. He can feel your muscles molding to his touch. Your body recognizes your need for him even when unconscious.

He maneuvers himself closer to you, sliding behind you on the cushions so that his chest is against your back. His hand stays on your body, continuing its slow, rhythmic movements. He keeps it over your shirt at first before slipping it beneath, exploring the skin of your midriff.

You let out a little sigh and shift a bit in your sleep. You still don't wake up though. He nestles his face against the back of your neck, taking a breath of your scent. He imagines what would happen if you woke up right now. He's positive you'd be startled, but he'd bet his life you wouldn't push him away.

He'd only ever been this close to you one time before. It was a couple days after the prison fell. Like right now, it was also at night. It wasn't sensual like he was trying to make this moment though. That time you'd had a nightmare. You woke up in tears, shivering in the pitch black of the random house you were shacked up in with him and Carl. It hadn't taken any words. He knew what you needed. He held you close like right now until you'd returned to the safe embrace of sleep. Unlike his wet dream, the two of you had never spoken about that since.

Testing the waters, his fingers dip below the hem of your shorts. They glide over your hip bone, pressing a tender massage into the skin. You like that. He can tell from the way you lean into it. You roll onto your back to be closer to him.

He really goes for it now. His hand slides to the front of you to cup your sex over your panties. He positions his face in the crook of your neck and lays a few soft pecks on your throat. His digits then start to move slowly.

They caress your pussy over the soft fabric shielding it from his raw touch. But even with the thin barrier, he can tell you feel the sparks of pleasure. Your hips wiggle a little bit. Your mind can't discern what exactly the sensation is right now. All you know is that it's starting to disturb your slumber.

You whine, the tender noise garbled and half-hearted.

"Shh-shh, sweet girl," he coos in your ear.

Upon hearing his voice, he sees your eyelids twitch as if they want to open. His middle finger slots itself between your lips and strokes with more precision. He can feel slick starting to soak through the garment. You whimper again. There's still a chance this could go so wrong, but that's part of what has his blood pumping down South to his building erection.

Your thighs part, your subconscious desire shining through. He chuckles against your neck and swirls the pad of his finger over your little bud.

"There you go. Let me in, honey," he praises.

Him speaking again is what finally draws you back into the waking world. Your eyes crack open. You're confused by what's happening; the warmth to your left side, the tingling between your legs, the raspy voice in your ears.

The moment reality clicks in your head is visible to Rick. Your eyes widen, as much as they can while your lashes are still heavy with drowsiness. Your head turns to connect your gaze with him. As he expected, the situation was jarring to you but not in a way that was completely bad. His movements slow, but they don't come to a full stop.

"Rick, what are you-"

He cuts you off by leaning in and putting his lips on yours. It felt different than you'd imagined. You'd become so used to seeing him with a beard that your daydreams always had his kisses feeling scratchy. You didn't update your ideas when he'd shaven clean. There's no scratch at all now. Nothing but his lips on yours.

His heart pounds violently within his ribcage. He pulls back, ready for your final verdict. He feels your thighs squeezing around his wrist.

"What are you doing?" you ask, your voice soft and hazy like you had asked if you were still dreaming.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he responds, "I'm givin' you what you want."

"Are you sure it's not what you want?" you ask.

Of course you'd still try to tease. Even when he so clearly had the upper hand.

"Oh I'm sure. You're not a mystery, sweetheart," he says quietly. He pauses for a moment but decides to to continue. "It took me having a wet dream for you to figure out you might have a chance, but I've known you've wanted me for a long time now just from how you look at me. Like you have little hearts in your eyes."

You bite your lip, both to suppress the moan bubbling in your esophagus and out of an embarrassment at how dead on he was. His finger works at you faster, sliding around in your arousal as he nips at your earlobe.

"You may as well have written 'fuck me' across your forehead, babydoll. Would've given me the same impression," he whispers.

You whine, and god, he can't get enough of how it feels to be the one teasing. For once, he's doling out the humiliation to you. You're the one with the shame boiling in your tummy and heat melting rational thought away in your brain. Your hips start to rock against his hand.

"Was this what your dream was about?" you whimper.

"No," he answers, smiling at your whiny tone, "That night you caught me I was dreaming about you sucking me off."

The mere suggestion makes your back arch and shaky breath exit your lungs. Once you're settled on the cushions again, Rick resumes filling in the details you hadn't been privy to.

"That's what got me. You were on your knees, looking up at me with those sweet eyes, pretty mouth full of cock. You were moanin', droolin' on it. You just couldn't get enough," he recalls as if talking about a memory, "I bet you love having a dick in your mouth, don't you? Lips like those were made for it."

You mewl again before nodding weakly. "I would've done it for you if you asked."

"I'm sure you would have," he smirks.

He leans in to give you more kisses as his fingers keep playing with your pussy. You keep rolling yourself into the touches. He's guessing you're getting close from the way your pace is picking up. He pulls back for a small break to catch his breath.

"Isn't this so much more fun when you're not being such a smartass?" he teases.

You pout at him as a reply. Your bottom lip wobbles as you struggle to maintain the expression. It was hard pretending to be upset when he was giving you everything you wanted.

"Don't look at me like that," he chuckles, "You're still a sweet girl. You just need the brattiness fucked out of you sometimes."

That wipes the pout away clean. Your lips part as you let out a tiny moan.

"Good girl," he croons.

But despite his praise, only a few moments later, he retracts his hand from your panties. You whine, and your eyes look up at him with a desperate urgency. He couldn't leave you like this. It would be deserved revenge for all your antics.

"Nuh uh, none of that," he murmurs as his hand goes to push down his sweats instead, "So spoiled, and I haven't even started with you yet."

You quiet down, just relieved he's not leaving. You boost your hips to push your shorts and underwear down. He watches with satisfied eyes at your attempt to match him.

"I want you cummin' on my cock before anything else, sweet thing. Think you can do that for me?"

"Mhm," you hum softly.

Your stomach flutters and your clit throbs when his cock is finally in view. Just seeing it makes your mouth water. It's hard all for you, angry veins spanning down the shaft to the swollen head. You reach for it, but he stops you by grabbing your wrist.

"You don't get to touch it just yet. It's going inside you first. Then if you're good, I might let you play with it later," he says.

In truth, this was the first bit of action Rick was getting in a while. Under no circumstances would he give you more ammunition for jokes by blowing his load from a handjob and then not getting it back up to fuck you proper.

You kick your bottoms all the way off as he rolls on top of you. He gives himself a few strokes of preparation before swiping his tip through your folds. A groan vibrates in his chest as the feeling of the warm, sticky fluid coating him. He lines himself up and sinks in. His hands move to the back of your knees, pushing your legs up to either side of your abdomen.

"Fuck, baby. You're tight," he grunts as he works himself between your walls.

You nod simply, still adjusting to the feeling of him stretching you out. Your walls flutter around him as if happy to finally have what you'd been craving for what feels like forever. He grunts again and tightens his grip on your legs.

A little bit more, and he's all the way in. He takes a moment to just feel it, your warm, wet, cunt sucking him in, embracing him like it was made to be his.

His forehead drops to press against yours as he begins to move. He thrusts at a moderate pace, but he makes sure to strike deep every time. Both of you are taking care to be somewhat quiet since it was the dead of night, but the sensations are strong with or without the noise.

"This what you been wantin', dolly?'” he breathes as the skin of his pelvis connects with your ass.

"Yeah, been wanting it everyday," you whimper, "I was hoping you'd have another dream."

"Oh yeah?" he asks, chuckling lowly between pants, "And you'd have been ready to help me out if it happened again, right?"

"Yeah. I needed it so bad. You don't understand," you whine. One of your hands rises up and tugs on his brown curls.

That draws a growl from him and makes him fuck into you harder.

"I do understand, pretty girl. Every time you ran that cute little mouth, I wanted to bend you over, spank that sweet cunt raw and then fuck it full," he mumbles.

Your eyes screw shut at the image he puts in your head. Your arms wrap around his neck and keep him close as can be. His hips rut into you with passion you'd never felt from anyone else before.

"That's all I wanted," you whine, clamping down around his length.

"You're gonna get it right now," he says and pounds against your hips harder.

They had morning after pills here. He'd seen a few packs in the infirmary. Cumming inside you one time would be fine. That's what his lust-driven mind told him anyways. He'd make sure to get some condoms before next time, because there would be a next time.

You wrap your legs around him and squeeze. He lets out a moan himself and slides his head over to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

"Fuck, baby. You ready?" he asks.

You nod eagerly as you approach the edge yourself. You slide one hand down to your clit, giving it a few strokes to make sure you could get there with him.

His nails dig into the flesh of your hips when he cums. His jaw clenches, and he grits his teeth, using everything in him to stay quiet. And you cum seconds later. The way you pulse around him milks him dry. He spurts rope after rope of pent up release into your wanting cunt.

You tremble and whimper beneath him, your eyes unable to decide if they wanna roll back or close tight. He gently rocks his hips against you the whole time until you're both sated. Once both of your bodies are ready to give out, he pulls out of you. He drops back onto his side like he had been before and puts himself back together.

You reach down and pull your clothes back into place. He wasn't sure what was gonna happen next until you turned to look at him. Once he has a look at your expression, he can see the part of you that loves to rile him up and tease is gone right now. The vulnerable one that lurks beneath the surface has the reins right now.

You curl up to his chest. You wanna cuddle and kiss as you come down, and he gives you that. He gives it to you until you drift off to sleep again. He's not far behind you. You'd tired him out enough that he felt he could pass out too.

He scoops you up and brings you back to the couch with him, imagining this would look better than the both of you crumpled up on the floor together in a pile of disheveled blankets. Having you tucked to his side like this was all he needed right now. He'd done more than let go tonight. He was letting you in.

But those were thoughts for tomorrow. Right now, he's content to doze off with you into a dreamless sleep. There was no need for dreams now that he had the real thing in his arms.

#rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes smut #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes x y/n #twd x reader #twd smut #twd imagine #twd x you #twd x y/n

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sundew199 · 1 month ago

Text

The comfort of you

Tags: zoro x f!reader, fluff

Zoro loves watching you sleep, loves watching the way your guard falls easily when you’re alone with him, like the only source of comfort is his presence. He considers it an honor to know you feel safe and comfortable enough to sleep, even more so when he finds out you force yourself to stay awake around others. He smiles to himself when he traces your soft cheek with his finger, how your brows twitch at the touch, pulling a soft laugh from him.

You sleep so deeply on his chest, a trail of drool beginning at the corner of your mouth, never quite reaching his own skin. Zoro refuses to sleep when you do, his mind racing with thoughts as he looks at you. How pretty you are, how kind and accepting, how you fell for him of all people. That part is still a mystery, remembering how closed off and brash he was to you at first, honed in on his goal. But his heart kept pulling you to him, like a magnet in the vicinity of the opposite pole, stretching to connect.

Zoro often wonders of the life he can give you outside of piracy, when his life long goals have been met, when he succeeds in aiding his captain in his. Will you still want to be with him? Would you consider a slow normal life where he could teach the art of the sword to young minds? Would your love inflame or dwindle now that thrill of life on the sea was over?

He likes to think it won’t, but he’s never been sure, he can’t place all his eggs into one basket, even if he yearns to. All he wants is to grow old together, tell stories to the students that’ll learn from him or maybe even the children he’ll give you. He’d like that actually, a couple of copies of you and him, something he was once so adamantly against, but you had such an odd way of softening his hard nos.

His mind races with possibilities when he watches you sleep, the good and the bad. There are things he wants to tell you that dance in his mind but fear of jinxing it if he says it out loud. Like how he wants to seal his love for you in a ceremony, make you his wife and let the world know that the famed pirate hunter now vice captain of the straw hat pirates has a heart softened by only you. Or how he wants to end his night with you in a home over tea and sake, let you lean back into his chest and you watch the sun set over the sea and the wind rustle the cherry blossoms.

Zoro allows himself to feel when you sleep on or next to him, feel how your beating heart synchs with his and how real you are against him. His life is filled with uncertainty that is almost certain, but he never questions you or the lengths he would go to ensure you’re in his life till the end. Zoro can’t imagine you not rolling over in bed to greet him with a kiss, whether on the sunny or the home he brings you too after this adventure has closed.

Anticipation for a future with you is so sweet, so sought after by him that he has to remind himself to cherish each day, because he knows he’ll miss the lapping waves outside of his cabin on the sunny as you curl into his chest, resting up for whatever the crew gets into on the next island they’ll land at. He’ll miss the way you’ll drag him away from a party thrown by their captain for a private kiss or two, pressing you to the wall with a bottle of sake in his hand or yours, drunkenly giggling as your lips find each others. He’ll miss the way you smile at him when he joins you in Nami’s orchard, forcing you to nap under the sun with him. But he also can’t wait for the quiet slow life of just you and him and a possible family.

Watching you sleep and envisioning the future has become so dear to him, he just can’t bring himself to close his eye and join you, making up for the lack of sleep during the day. He sees everything he wants with you in the content expression on your face, tracing your features with a calloused finger and dotting your moonlit skin in feather light kisses.

“I love you.”

Is what he says into your ear as he settles in finally beside you, his body no longer able to stay awake like he wants. Carefully adjusting you so you’re heart will beat on top of his, lulling him into a dream that he can’t wait to have, knowing it’ll be filled with your bright smile and warm eyes, pulling him along to wherever the future with you holds, hoping to experience it outside of his mind one day soon.

#roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x you #zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro roronoa x you #one piece zoro #op zoro #zoro fluff

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svtiddiess · 2 months ago

Text

Soft Serenity

Synopsis: Watching your boyfriend sleep is one of the best things in the world.

Pairing: Jeonghan x gn!reader

Genre: fluff, one shot

Rating: sfw

Word count: 529

Warnings: none! Lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: Need me a Jeonghan right now ㅠㅠ

@tomodachiii I told you he'd get a happy ending! Now, please stop screaming at me.

Click here to join my taglist!

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

Safe. That's what you felt at the moment, in your boyfriend's arms as you watched him sleep. Streaks of sunlight peak in through the blinds, illuminating your boyfriend's face and making him look more ethereal than he already does. His blonde hair, which he recently dyed for the upcoming comeback, frames his face, truly making him look like an angel.

You smile at the thought of your boyfriend being known as an 'angel' among his fans when, in fact, he's quite the opposite. Not a day goes by when you're not dealing with the consequences of dating this angel-like devil. But you know for a fact that you wouldn't give it up for the world.

Ever since you met Jeonghan, every day has been an adventure. Even if most days you spend with him are at home cuddling, he somehow always manages to keep you on your toes, either through cheeky remarks or 'harmless' pranks. You can't imagine your life before you met him; it seemed so monotonous and bland, like something was always missing. And when you met Jeonghan, it finally clicked; he was the puzzle piece that was missing in your life.

You bring your focus back to the man in front of you. You gently use your finger to trace his beautiful features, careful not to wake him. You've always marvelled at how beautiful Jeonghan looked, even admitting to him that he looked more beautiful than you, to which he laughed and cooed, saying that to him, you're the most beautiful thing in the entire universe.

Your finger stops when you reach his lips, which are pouting due to his face being squished by the pillow. You'd never admit this to him, but you're addicted to his lips. You can kiss him for hours and still want more. The feeling of his lips on your skin always makes you shudder, even if it is just an innocent peck on the cheek. You lean forward to place a gentle kiss on his pouting lips, silently giggling to yourself.

Jeonghan's pout turns into a smile as he shifts to bring you closer to him, causing you to let out a small squeak. He then places a kiss on the corner of your lips before snuggling his face into your neck.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" You softly ask, moving your hands to thread them in his hair. He shakes his head.

"I've been awake this whole time," he mumbles into your neck, and you swear you can feel him smile.

"So you knew I was watching you this whole time?!" You could feel your cheeks heat up at the thought of Jeonghan catching you admiring him.

"You looked so happy, so I just let you be," he hums, "plus it felt nice."

"You're going to tease me about it later, aren't you?"

"Definitely."

You let out a defeated sigh as you continue to rake your fingers through his hair. With Jeonghan, there's definitely no winning. But with him, there definitely will be happiness, excitement, comfort, safety, and serenity. You feel him place a kiss on your neck, making you giggle softly.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

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chokamo · 2 months ago

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crossing paths

pairing : single dad!charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary : you moved to monaco, a place you never expected to call home. after an unexpected dm, you met charles, leaving you to wonder whether it was fate or coincidental.

a/n : this is part one of the “fateful encounters” series .

yourusername

liked by yourbsf, charlesleclerc, user and others.

yourusername 📍🇬🇧 hope i make it out of here

user so excited to see 💞

user have a safe trip

user love the caption

yourbsf YEAYYY

you liked this comment

user is this the girl charles followed recently?

user -> yes she is !

user -> omgg

user uhhh who is she 😬

user -> y/n is a model / content creator. ☺️

user -> based in the uk ;)

user -> and is moving soon

user cute girl

you added to your story .

yourbsf liked your story .

yourbsf is that WHAT YOU ARE BRINGING ??!

you replied -> uhhhh yeaa…?

yourbsf -> you do know you are going to MONACO right? not hawaii, ibiza orrrr bali

you replied -> leave me and my summer dream ALONE 😠

yourbsf im speaking from concern u better pack necessary stuff !!!

you liked the message

charlesleclerc liked your story .

charlesleclerc -> hey, i saw you are moving to monaco

charlesleclerc -> can we meet up?

seen just now

if someone had told you that you’d end up in a long-term relationship with your neighbor, you would have laughed and brushed it off with a “that’s crazy!” or a “in what world that would happen?” but here you were, as it turns out you were wrong.

it was around the month of may. you had recently moved to monaco for a job opportunity, and, by some wild coincidence, the building you rented your place was the same building he lived in, and, little did you know, it’s the same man who’d soon be occupying more of your thoughts than you’d ever expect.

with the help of your best friend, you managed to moved all your belongings up into your new apartment. boxes after boxes piled up like a mountain, and you’d think after months of dedicating to “decluttering” you’d minimize the items you own, hoping that it would fix your life. but it didn’t and here you are sorting it all out.

“i cant believe you are finally here in monaco” she exclaimed, while folding the boxes down in the corner, with a large grin.

if you didn’t know better, you’d think she was the one moving, with how bright she’s smiling.

“right? it feels like a dream.” you replied, laughing.

“yeah, and as i was saying. as your friend who cares about you, you better hook up with some rich monaco dude here” she teased, pointing at you with faux seriousness, her eyes glistening with mischief.

you laughed, rolling your eyes. “oh please, don’t get me started with that, i just got here!”

“i’m serious!” she insisted, a playful smirk painted on her face. “monaco is full of hot guys - you’re bound to snatch one up. . . i mean, just look at you!” she exclaimed making a show towards yourself “you are a total catch, babe!”

“you say this with every country we’ve been to” you pointed out, chuckling at her antics.

she shrugged playfully “ well, have i ever been wrong about this?”

you nodded your head, “ yes and yes, but i’ll test your theory out” you said with a wink.

time passed, and the adrenaline rush quickly faded turning into a comforting silence.

after countless of kisses and gratitude of thank-yous for her helping hand, she turned to you with a shaky smile.

“don’t miss me too much, will you?” she teased.

you let out a shaky laugh “ i’ll try, you know how much i need you in times like this”

with one last hug, she rushed off to catch her flight back home, leaving you to settle alone.

you couldn’t lie - you were nervous. this was your first time being in a foreign country living by yourself which only made it harder to accept. despite all the months of planning and preparation, it still wasn’t enough to ease the knot in your stomach as you stood infront of the building taking it all in, you sighed and made your way back inside the lobby, wondering what this new chapter of life would bring.

unaware of the person infront, you had accidentally bumped into them, knocking the item they were holding as it tumbled to the ground making a light thud noise. you gasped, at the sound more concerned about potentially breaking the person’s item more than your own stupidity. quickly, you knelt down and moved to pick up the fallen item - what you now noticed was a phone and swiftly handing it back to its owner.

“im sorry, so sorry” you blurted out, your mind racing as panic seeps through your system. what a good first impression, you thought, note the sarcasm. it wasn’t until seconds later after - you realized you’d spoken english in monaco, where the people dominantly spoke french, and suddenly, feeling self conscious about it. but before you could back track, thankfully, the person spoke english as well with an accent you could assumed sounded local ;

“don’t worry about it” his tone sounding amused.

you lifted your gaze to take a look at the mysterious man, your eyes trailing and tracing over his features - his lips, his shining eyes, the tousled hair. he was undeniably attractive, you realized, a thought that would lingered longer than you might expected.

then, suddenly, something clicked. that undeniable beautiful eyes and his gorgeous face - you had seen him before. your breath hitched as recognition dawned on you.

it couldn’t be. . .

but there was no mistaking it now. the man standing right before you was none other than charles leclerc. the man who dmed you the other day, but didn’t have enough time to respond.

this wasn’t just a coincidence, or was it? your mind raced, trying to grasp the situation. the man in front of you or was it really fate - the universe bestowed upon you?

breaking your shameless staring, a sheepish smile tugged-on your lips, “i’m really sorry about this. it’s not the best way to start the morning with, is it?” you said with a small huffed.

he smiled, chuckling softly “it’s not something you experience every day - that’s for sure” he replied.

“though i wouldn’t mind getting interrupted by you” he added, his smile remaining on his beautiful face sending jolts down your body and leaving you feeling fuzzy. “in exchange for your time “ he continued, his accent making the word lulled like musical notes.

you blinked, your mind freezing at the brazen request “ you want me - uhh my time?” you echoed playfully after breaking from your shock, trying to match his boldness.

“you would be suprised” he said lowly, his voice dropping down to murmurs.

“i’m charles, i live here,” he continued, his voice smooth introducing himself .

“oh, really?” you said jokingly, already knowing who he was. “i live here too” you replied.

his eyebrow arched in a feign suprise “i’ve never seen you here before?” he remarked, seeping through his tone as he studied your face.

“ i just moved in. . . today” you explained.

“ah, i see,” charles said thoughtfully, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

you raised your eyebrows, genuinely surprised by his nonchalant tone “you already knew that? didn’t you?”

he grinned, “you caught me” raising his hand into a playful surrender pose “your best friend told me about you” he added with a mischievou glint in his eyes.

your eyes widen in shock, “my best friend?” you gasped.

“she’s a good help, credits to her for - “

“no wonder she was persistent about that earlier” you confessed, feeling betrayed by her slyness, a knowing smile crept to your face, recognizing how she was always on the lookout for a chance to play matchmaker. “i should have seen it coming.”

after a brief pause, he nodded, “it was nice meeting you y/n” his lips forming into a smile.

“it’s a pretty name” he complimented, his smile widened, showcasing his full lips.

you offered him a soft smile “thank you” .

“take care, then.” his words were simple but warm, and you returned the gesture with a quiet, “you too.” you whispered softly.

as you walked away, your thoughts drifted to charles. in a massive building surrounded with so many people - the probability of running into him is slim, you figured you would never see him again. and maybe, that wasn’t such a bad thing after all. a part of you was relieved by the thought.

but as much as you tried to convince yourself, there was a stubborn part of you that hope to cross paths with him - just once more.

but what you didn’t know was that charles hoped the same. how could he not? his aka “celebrity crush” or whatever, pierre, his best friend teased him with was you.

the moment he came across your page, he was hooked. he wanted to get to know you. but he had no way to communicate you - not until your move to monaco, it gave way as a perfect opportunity for him to meet you. even if it was just a friendly exchange, he wanted to seize the chance to get to know you better.

yourusername

liked by yourbsf, charlesleclerc, francisca.cgomes and others.

yourusername first week here 🇲🇨

user GORGEOUS

user so exciting

yourbsf found him yet? 😏

you replied -> PRIVATE message exist and yes you traitor

user gorgeous

user hellooo

charlesleclerc beautiful 🤍🤍🤍

you liked this comment

user -> WOAH

user -> new girl??????

user -> AND she’s im monaco

user -> this was the same girl he followed awhile ago.

user -> damn.

user -> OMGG

francisca.cgomes 💞💞

you liked this comment

user -> YESSSS

user -> a NEED to see them together

user -> 😫😫😫

user -> are they friends???!

you added to your story .

yourbsf liked your story .

yourbsf -> missing youu

you replied -> imyyyyy moreee

francisca.cgomes liked your story .

francisca.cgomes -> gorgeous 💐💐

you replied -> says you 🫶🫶

charlesleclerc liked your story

charlesleclerc -> hey, if you have time

charlesleclerc -> would you like to go out and meet somewhere?

you replied -> sure ;)

you replied -> what time?

a/n : tell me how u feel about this lol (my writing is mehhh and i re read this so many times i gave up even checking for any errors) and part two will come in october <3

checkout the fateful encounters masterlist

part two is already out -> here

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, the events and characters depicted are not based on real life, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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zenlesszonezero · 20 days ago

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Join Zenless Zone Zero with Tsukishiro Yanagi, the deputy leader of Hollow Special Operations Section 6! Beneath her ordinary office lady exterior lies a meticulous, emotionally intelligent big sister to the team.

#zzzero #zenless zone zero #Yanagi #Gaming #Anime Game

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thisiswhereikeepdcthings · 10 months ago

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My take on stalker!Tim:

Robin!Jason gets distracted during a patrol and doesn’t meet up with Batman, who panics is mildly concerned. Jason doesn’t want to reveal the real reason he got distracted (could be something he was working on for Bruce or just him being a cute baby nerd) so he makes something up the spot. A kid! He saw a kid. It was definitely child shaped. And. Uh. Photography! That’s right, he saw a kid taking photos and made sure he got home safe.

Batman: Photography?

Robin!Jason: Yeah, uh, nighttime photography.

Batman: At midnight?

Robin: I mean, it’s not a school night.

Batman: What were they taking pictures of?

Robin, panicking and going to the first thing he can think of ch just so happens to be last Sunday when Dick called Bruce an emotionally repressed furry: Uh, wildlife?

Bruce is skeptical but honestly he’s seen weirder things even tonight so as long as the kid got home safe…

Jason proceeds to use this same excuse a few more times.

Batman: Don’t tell me, it was the kid again.

Robin!Jason: You just missed him.

Batman, who isn’t feeling strong parental feelings at all: Hrn.

Okay so then fast forward a few years. Jason is on his little murder training gap year and Tim has shown up to the manor trying to fix the disaster that is currently Bruce Batman Wayne. Dick, trying to bond with the kid now that it’s apparent he’s not going anywhere, asks what Tim’s interests are.

Tim: Well, I like photography, and…

Dick, putting two and two together and getting forty-seven: Ohmygosh you’re the kid.

Tim: The what now?

Dick: The kid with the wildlife photography.

Tim, thinking about that one competition he entered a year ago: Uh, I guess?

Dick thinks that’s how Tim figured out all their identities. He thinks he has it all figured out. He does not. Bruce now thinks he has it figured out too. He does not. Tim is unaware there was something to be figured out. Jason is off learning the finer points of poisoning or something idk.

So skip forward some more and Jason is back, minus some murder attempts or whatever because this is crack, and Dick is now trying to get his two brothers comfortable with each other. It is not working. Finally, Dick remembers they’ve definitely met before.

Dick: So, do you remember meeting Tim before?

Jason, whose memory resembles Swiss cheese but is fairly certain he never met Tim before now: Uh…

Dick: He’s the kid! The one with the wildlife photography!

Jason, suddenly remembering the excuse he used several times as Robin: The what now?

Tim, knowing full well that Jason was very dead at the time he submitted anything in a wildlife category: The what now?

Jason pulls Tim into a hall closet to interrogate him about this.

Tim: There’s like five rooms right here that no one has stepped in in a month. Why are we in a closet?

Jason: What, exactly, did Dick mean by you were the one with the wildlife photography, because I’m pretty sure that was just an excuse I made up but now I don’t know.

They figure it out. They also agree to just let that belief be. Jason doesn’t want to admit he made that all up. Tim doesn’t want to admit he thought Dick had gone to his art competition thing before they even officially met. Tim also doesn’t want to explain how he actually figured out their identities because this sounds way cooler. So they decide to just roll with it.

Damian shows up and tries to hunt down Tim’s early photos of Batman. Tim and Jason get really into making it look like he just keeps missing it. Barbara knew about all of this the entire time but no one asked her so she didn’t bother to fill them in.

Everyone else that joins the family after that point and hears the story of Jason and Tim supposedly meeting while Jason was Robin has the exact same response: “Oh, ‘cause Batman’s a furry. Right.”

#and that’s how jason and tim bonded through misunderstandings and calling batman a furry #something dick unknowingly started #bruce is so done #jason todd #bruce wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #batman #batfam #batkids #what do you mean dc doesn’t stand for disregard canon

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hwallazia · 1 month ago

Text

ANGELS IN TIBET – 송민기

synopsis . in which mingi clearly can’t keep it inside his pants. not even at the cinema.

pairing . song mingi & fem! reader

genre . smut (mdni!), established relationship, non idol!au.

taglist . @bro-atz @purplenimsicle @vampzity @iykyunho @yyaurii | apply to join my taglist ♡

word count . 1,7k

DISCLAIMER! dom! mingi , sub! reader , exhibitionism , cockwarming in a public space , clit play , reverse cowgirl position , mocking , dirty talk , praise , pet names (dove, good girl, babe & more) , wet kisses ooh , mingi is desperate for yn’s touch and attention.

NIC’S NOTES this was a request that i’ve had pending since april i think? and i’m so sorry for not working on it until now (like fr i’m beyond embarrassed, anon pls forgive me) but she’s finally here! as well as me hehe, i’m trying to get back on track with writing, it’ll take some time tho. for now, enjoy this, loves <3

mingi’s behavior could be defined as needy.

he swung his arm swiftly across your shoulders, keeping you safe and close next to him — close enough to smell his faint natural, manly and rich scent. he kept throwing his head on the crook on your neck and then lifting it, then letting it fall down your shoulder’s blade. why was he so impatient?

you tried to remain calm and pay attention to the damn movie playing in front of your eyes until mingi’s nth sigh struck your peaceful state of mind. “mingi, what’s wrong?”

your soft, low question made him tilt his head up, once again. “nothing.” his short reply caused your eyes to narrow almost shut — which he probably didn’t get to observe since the darkness of the theatre blurred some of each other’s features. an even quieter “then quit squirming” came from your lips and mingi jutted his bottom lip. “but i’m cooold.” he whined in response.

thankfully he didn’t see your eyeroll because he prolly would’ve scattered in tears on the spot. “how can you be cold when you have a big ass jacket on?” you paused, turning your body to analyze his perfectly covered figure. “and a sweater underneath it?” you deadpanned.

“do i look like i know?” he huffed, placing his head back into the juncture of your neck — might as well be a single organ now. “i just feel cold and i’m looking for my beloved girlfriend’s comfortable warmth. is that too much to ask?”

“but how do you want me to—” your complaint was cut out by the loud, clearly annoyed shush of the old lady sitting below the two of you. she angled her body so her bothered gaze met yours, her wrinkles were palpable thanks to the dim, yet shiny lighting provided by the projector. you mouthed an apology and gave her your most sweet, sheepish smile. her soft huff reached your ears and embarrassment spread all over your cheekbones.

“see? now the old lady is pissed at us because of you.” mingi dared to open his mouth and your head gyrated slowly, almost in a comedic motion, and he nearly let out his squeaky laugh at the sight of your unbelievable facet, jaw hang open comically.

“how dare you.” you quipped; eyelids almost closing your eyes as if you were ready to object, yet you remained quiet. you repositioned your figure towards the projected screen, causing mingi to abandon the occupied place. vague and nearly lifeless brain cells tried to recollect and understand what had happened during the time you drifted away from the movie.

mingi’s soft, low chuckle summoned the chilliest of goosebumps creeping down your spine, a slight arch going unseen. “don’t be like that, babe.” he reached for the side of your shoulder to squeeze it and to resume your last position; nose nestling on the lateral part of your neck again. he let a trail of wet, romantic kisses all along the valley of your neck, your ticklish skin made your body squirm and giggle quietly.

“mingi—stop.” you muttered between little and nearly inaudible squeaks, a childish and wholesome smile drawn across your lips. something that mingi could see up close.

he’s just so in love with you. so madly in love.

mingi stopped for a moment, letting your hyperventilated self calm down; sweet strokes, provided by fingers full of affection, were present on the side of your shoulder.

“hey babe?” he hushed in a certain tone. a chilly, gravelly voice scraping through you.

“hm?”

“i think i know a way you can warm me up.”

his mouth paced throughout the length of your neck to land a kiss on its soft flesh before flying to the shell of your ear; an enchanting shudder of anticipation exciting you already. “care to share with the class?”

your words, enveloped in a velvety hue of seduction, caused the little hairs placed on his nape to stand on end. he hummed in satisfaction before responding. “you fancy trying something new, dove?”

one moment, you were cuddling with your boyfriend in the cinema’s seats, watching the movie you had paid for. the next, you were cockwarming his girthy length — don’t worry! the folds of your loose, white skirt hid it perfectly. how sinful it was for a pearl-like fabric to cover such a lewd scene.

your walls clenched and relaxed against the sides of his cock every now and then from the excitement and adrenaline. plus, mingi moved incessantly, excusing himself by implying “he had a cramp” or he was “getting comfy”. if only the old lady could see that you and mingi could ruin a movie screening in more ways than just talking.

mingi’s low grunts tensed your limbs, your mind floating around already. his cock tip kissed your cervix deliciously; white spots filling your dark irises. “fuck, babe. so tight and wet f’me.” his grip on your trembling hip growing stronger as you greedily sucked him whole. “didn’t think you’d be up for this. y’ know, since you’re so shy” he mocked pathetically, whining like you would now if it weren’t for the place where this was taking action.

his big hands abandoned your shuddering hips, swiftly moving under your plush thighs; slim fingers curling up your flesh. you knew he wanted you to move, his uneven breathing and a slight tug on your skin gave him away so easily. but fuck, you couldn’t bring yourself to quench his desire — you already felt too exposed by just cockwarming him. your breath hitched as you clamped onto him involuntarily, your squishy insides making mingi melt in satisfaction. the lowest of grunts fanned against your earlobe.

you couldn’t help the tiny mewl that slipped off your tongue. fuck, everything was starting to be too much.

and mingi’s fingers crawling their way to your swollen clit didn’t make it any better.

your shameless, pathetic moan startled the elderly woman seated a few rows down. again, she gyrated her core to stare in your direction, unamused of the interruption, but before she could meet your eyes, you hid your flushed face in the crook of mingi’s defined neck; teeth digging into the plump flesh of your lips to mute your whimpers and tiny cries from the old woman’s seemly acute hearing.

mingi’s index and middle fingers didn’t stop working on your sensitive bud, but they did slow down their pace, setting now a very tortuous tempo; exasperated exhales fanned against his neck. mingi’s dark, lust-filled irises met the aged woman’s eyes, which were pouring annoyance.

his unbusy hand pointed at the screen, showing fake interest. “this movie’s real good.” he expressed, approvingly. at this rate, an oscar should be given to mingi because of his ability to remain with a calm demeanor given the circumstances. don’t get him wrong though, it took everything from him not to tell the lady to fuck off and let you and him be.

the elderly lady squinted her small eyes with disapproval — not that mingi gave a damn — and finally turned to face the projected screen once again. a quiet, soft exhale was released through mingi’s nostrils, his attention now fully focused back on you.

his deep, masculine tone rumbled through his core, and shivers were sent directly down your spine. “c’mon, angel. pay attention, i didn’t spend money on these tickets for nothing” he hummed, the intention of teasing was painted in his tone as clear as water. “or is it that you’re gonna cum?”

“ming—ngh! i—i’m s’ close. so fuckin’ close” you exhaled. “faster, fuck—please, faster” you settled your head, so it rested on his shoulder. he didn’t miss the chance to shower your exposed neck with wet, lascivious kisses while whispering the dirtiest things right on your ear.

“well aren’t you a greedy little thing?” mingi cooed at you mockingly one more time and with your bothered and high pitched, yet quiet whimper, he chuckled. “’s okay, babe, gonna give you just what you deserve for being such a good girl.”

your gummy walls clenched around his hardened shaft multiple times as his fingers played with your plush clit like a guitar in a relentless pace.

“let me see you fall apart.” he muttered with the huskiest voice known to men, and with his cock filling you to the brim and his skillful phalanges driving you straight to the abyss perfectly, you reached a satisfying peak, crying out mingi’s name. he didn’t stop his sloppy movements though, completely committed to drawing out the sensation for as long as possible and when you finally felt completely sated, you let your trembling core collapse against mingi’s strong chest.

his hands didn’t hesitate to wrap around your body, a trail of the sweetest praises showering you entirely. a giddy smile was drawn on your lips — your red, swollen and probably broken lip.

when the movie ended, you and your boyfriend made your way to the exit door, coincidentally meeting the hunchbacked old woman face to face. of course, you earned yet another displeased glance.

as you walked toward your apartment, mingi couldn’t help but remember the event that had happened not long ago and decided to express exasperatedly “oh my god, i was ’boutta throw hands with that nosy ass woman.”

you snorted at his comment. “mingi, she’s a poor old lady that just wanted to enjoy the movie in peace and not having to deal with a horny couple of teenagers.”

“babe, we ain’t teenagers. we’re wayyy past our twenties.” he stated the obvious.

you rolled your eyes playfully. “yeah, well, you sure don’t act like it sometimes. who picks a fight with an old lady during a rom-com?”

mingi chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “she started it! i was just trying to give you a little—”

“—a little what?” you interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “a little public embarrassment? because mission accomplished.”

he smirked, leaning closer. “can’t deny you didn’t like it.”

you huffed, trying to suppress a smile. “you and your little horny and helpless self… always getting us into trouble.”

mingi shrugged, unbothered. “i don’t regret a thing.”

“just... try not to traumatize any more old ladies, okay?” you teased, lightly tapping his arm.

“deal,” he said with a grin, wrapping his arm around you. “but no promises if they keep interrupting my movie time with you.”

“what do you mean? we didn’t even watch the movie!”

| masterlist

#© hwallazia #ateez #ateez smut #song mingi #ateez mingi #mingi smut #song mingi smut #mingi x reader #mingi scenarios #mingi fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic

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taeyongdoyoung · 4 months ago

Text

enjoy the silence

summary: your usually quiet self becomes unusually loud around your boyfriend so you want him to make you shut up 👀 pairing: chan x reader genre: smut with hints of angst warnings: silence kink, insecurities, swearing, healthy communication 🥰 belt, fingering, eating out, overstimulation, piv sex, safeword used, pre-discussed scenario, dirty talk, pet names, kissing, overthinking, they're just idiots in love, your honour 😔 word count: 1.5k

You are generally perceived as the "quiet one" among your friends. Always the listener, never the talker. Honestly, you are more than okay with it. Most of the time, you can't think of a funny or interesting thing to say so you keep to yourself. And you genuinely enjoy hearing about your loved ones' days, even if you are not the best at responding with something witty. Some of them say one of the things that they like about you is that you don't give unnecessary advice but offer your support which is more than enough in certain situations.

All of that changes when you meet Chan. He makes you feel so comfortable that you open up without realizing. Sometimes you would babble for hours and he would let you. In most contexts, you would overthink your answer and end up not saying anything. But when you are with him, you don't have to think. You just freely say whatever is on your mind and are met with acceptance. It is like he unlocked a new part of you that you didn't even know existed.

One evening, you are out having dinner with Chan, and you are excitedly telling him about what you did today, what you ate, where you went, what outfit you wore and all the silly details you normally keep inside. He smiles at you adoringly, adding "Really?" and "That sounds nice" every now and then.

You are genuinely having a lovely time when you overhear a remark coming from the table nearby.

"Ugh, does that woman ever shut up? That poor guy..."

"I know, right? Must be so annoying..."

You immediately stop talking and gulp nervously. They must be talking about you. Were you really that loud?

"Let's go home," you say in a quiet voice.

Chan doesn't question it, he just gets the bill and you two make your way out of the restaurant. He drives you home in complete silence and when you are inside the apartment, he finally breaks the quiet spell.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? You didn't even finish your meal..."

"N-nothing, I'm f-fine," you try to lie but your voice breaks.

"Tell me, please," Chan urges you to trust him with your concerns.

"Channie, do I talk too much?" you ask.

"Oh, so you heard those assholes, as well..."

"So...do I?"

"I seriously love hearing you talk, okay? I've seen how quiet you get around your friends and I am glad you feel safe enough to share all these stuff with me. And to be fair, it's kind of a relief, after a long day of me doing a lot of talking, I get to listen to you. These people at the restaurant were just jealous that no one wants to hear their nasty voices."

That makes you laugh and you bury your head in his chest, enveloping him in a hug.

"Don't you ever get tired? Don't you wish to shut me up?" you want to know.

"Where is this coming from? Forget about these fuckers..."

"Not in general. Don't you want to make me stop talking in bed?" you suggest boldly.

"Oh. It hasn't crossed my mind. Is that something you'd like to explore?"

"As long as it's with you, yes."

"With nobody else?" Chan runs a finger across your cheek.

"Nope, never," you admit.

"Well, I'll see what I can do about that."

Chan looks really tired from work and you probably shouldn't push his buttons right now of all times. But you really want to see him snap. Empowered by your previous discussions of this particular scenario, you decide to give it a shot. If he's not in the mood, you'll just drop it and let him rest. But if he's in...may the universe have mercy on you.

"So I told her, no, I don't want to get drinks for everyone, Susan, 'cause you never pay me back and you always treat me like a minion and then she said-"

Chan sighs deeply because you've told this story like three times already but doesn't interrupt you. Okay, he really appears exhausted, maybe this was a terrible idea.

"Tell me to shut up," you beg him at this point.

"Huh?" he blinks somewhat confused.

"I'm obviously being super loud and you're tired. So, make me shut up and take it out on me. Please?"

Realizing where you're going with this, Chan nods and the exhaustion suddenly disappears from his eyes. His gaze is now on fire as he squishes your cheeks with one hand and pushes you against the wall.

"As long you're begging," he smirks cruelly and kisses you.

Oh dear. He's never kissed you like this, so roughly and fervently, teeth clashing against yours, biting your lips until it hurts. You cannot speak even if you wanted to, which you don't. Completely losing yourself to the feeling, you let him do as he pleases.

Chan grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the bedroom. He pins you under him on the bed and starts talking.

"Always so fuckin' loud, huh?"

You shake your head in disagreement. You can be quiet if he wants you to. You'd do anything if it makes him happy.

"Got nothing to say all of a sudden?" Chan teases you and starts taking off your clothes.

You lick your own lips hesitantly but don't dare say a word. Seeing him like this is so unexpected but you can't get enough of it.

"What got you so shy, hm? I thought you loved yapping to me. All. Day. Long."

The way he enunciates each word would make anyone else think he was genuinely annoyed by it. But you know your Channie. You know that he wouldn't hurt you. Not unless you asked him to.

"Talk to me, baby, yeah? Why aren't you saying anything?" he asks while he's unbuckling his belt.

You refuse to speak and he takes it as a sign to continue. He smacks the bed with his belt and the action is so startling you unvoluntarily flinch as if you were the one hit.

"Are you going to speak or do you want me to force the words out of you?"

Oh, so he's going to use your own weapon against you? Very well, then. Two can play at that game. Let's see who folds first.

Chan takes the task very seriously and does everything he can think of to make you talk again.

"Come on, sweetheart, doesn't this feel good?" he keeps asking as his big fingers stretch you out deliciously. Yes, it feels amazing, but you are so stubborn you say nothing.

"Not even a moan? You're crazy," he laughs but doesn't give up.

He eats you out longer than you've ever thought humanly possible, making you cum over and over again. But you still hold on, fingers gripping the sheets and teeth biting the inside of your cheek.

"Was this okay?" Chan needs to know and you swear you see his eyes watering with emotion, begging to be praised for his otherworldly skills, but not even that can make you speak.

You give him a noncomittal nod, which obviously makes him even more competitive.

Finally, he thrusts into you so deeply, so overwhelmingly that it takes every ounce of willpower for you to not break. His hard cock inside you, his strong arms wrapped around you, his smooth voice talking to you, his beautiful eyes gazing at yours. It's too much, yet never enough. You want to tell him so many things. How much he means to you, how grateful you are for him, how happy he makes you, how-

"Be honest, do you hate me?" Chan interrupts your affectionate thoughts out of nowhere.

Huh? Where the fuck is this coming from?

"P-pineapple," you break your silence by saying the pre-established safeword because there is no way you could continue enjoying yourself and each other without unpacking this.

Oh, no. Chan just wanted to hear you speak again, but not like this.

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" he immediately asks in concern and stops his movements.

"Did you hurt me?" you answer sarcastically. "Did I hurt you? Why would you ask me if I hate you while literally inside of me, are you serious right now?"

"I was just wondering," he pouts adorably, "you weren't talking to me for so long, I thought you were mad at me or something."

"I wasn't speaking because that was part of the scenario we talked about! Of course, I love you, you big idiot! How could you possibly ask that?"

Chan smiles fondly and gives you a soft kiss.

"I love you, too," he giggles. "So, you're not hurt? We can keep going?"

"No, I'm fine. Yes, we can, I just said the safeword because I can't have you thinking I hate you under no circumstances. You're everything to me, okay?"

"Okay," Chan agrees easily. "But can I ask for something?"

"Sure, what's up?"

"Please never shut up for real, baby. No matter how tired I may look, I love hearing about your day."

"I know. The same goes for you, yeah? You don't have to keep everything in, alright? I'll always listen to you. Whenever and whatever you want to say, I'm here for you."

"Oh, really? You'll be my good girl and listen? You'd do what I like?" Chan raises an eyebrow and you long to see what kind of demon you've unleashed.

"For you? I'd do anything," you promise.

"Then no more silence. I wanna hear you scream for me."

The End

#bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #chan x reader #chan smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids angst #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios #stray kids #chan #writing

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headlinerkwan · 4 months ago

Text

whispered - c.hs

pairing: vernon x gn!reader

genre: nonidol!au, mutual friends to lovers, secret dating, featuring the rest of svt, reader & vernon are whipped for each other, slight comfort, suggestive.

summary: vernon had always been the guy you saw across the room but never spoke to, until you did. who could blame you for keeping your relationship quiet?

warnings: profanity, mental health, alcohol, implied family problems, highly suggestive - MDNI!!

wc: 4.4k

a/n: i hope you guys like this!! i've always loved the secret dating trope and vernon's so sweet sooo. song rec for this fic is leonard cohen - boygenius ₊ ⊹₍ᐢᐢ₎

The night that you met Vernon was ordinary. Or, at least, it was meant to be ordinary. Another party at Jeonghan and Seungkwan’s place, no different from the one they held last Friday - chaotic as always, right? You had seen Vernon around before, it was impossible not to notice him. There was something that drew you to him, something that made you curious. Maybe it was the way his dark eyes sparkled under the low kitchen lights, or how he really didn’t seem to care what was going on around him, focusing only on the music and the drink in his hand.

“Everyone! Listen up!” Seungkwan yells, standing on top of a chair. You lift your head to watch him, catching Vernon’s eyes briefly as you do. “Who’s up for a game of suck and blow?”

As soon as he says that, you know there’s no escaping. Your friend grabs you by the arm, already sensing your hesitation.

“Pleaseee” Lia babbles into your ear, leaning against you “Just this once. One game, then I promise I’ll let you return to your dungeon, come on! It’ll be fun.”

Absent-mindedly, your gaze drifts to Vernon. You stifle a smile whilst you watch Chan and Jeonghan hassle him similarly. You sigh and reply to Lia, “Fine, one game.”

Seungkwan has always been methodical when it comes to games. Everything has to be just right from the set up to the number of players, it’s all a process. You’re standing with your friends, and a few strangers, waiting as Seungkwan creates the ‘perfect’ formation.

“Kwan, hurry up!” Mingyu whines.

“Ugh you don’t get it, fine.” He starts pulling people out, each one of your friends lined up and, like the child that he is, he puts you behind Vernon of course.

He turns to you, adorning an awkward smile before he offers his hand.

“I’m Vernon.”

“Y/N” You say, shaking his hand.

“I know.”

Your eyes widen, he knows?. He turns around, a smug look on his face, chuckling to himself.

The next time you see his face, he’s holding the card to his lips and bending down slightly to meet you. It’s like everything goes quiet once his eyes look into yours, like it’s the first day of your life as he leans in closer, and closer.

And then, he drops the card.

And his lips are on yours. His lips are on yours. Oh shit.

You pull away quickly, your heart fluttering as the party hollers around you.

“And… you two are out!” Seungkwan yells, pointing at the both of you, as if you needed more of a reason to blush.

Keeping your eyes on the floor, embarrassed by your shy smile and red cheeks, you immediately walk towards Lia who, after being sat in front of Chan, had already lost the game.

“I’m gonna go home now.”

“Huh?”

“You said one game, and I’m tired so…”

She sits back in her chair, sighing “Ok, I’ll keep my end of the deal, text me when you get home.”

“Mhm, stay safe, I’ll see you later!”

“Yeah yeah I know.”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Stepping out onto the street, you finally feel like you can breathe. The night sky, a gathering of stars to guide you home and the wind blowing gently through your hair.

“We shouldn’t have lost, you know. Seungkwan’s a bad referee.”

Huh? You freeze. Is that…

You turn around to confirm your suspicions and there he is. In the middle of the road, Vernon is stood waiting for you to respond, hoping you’ll respond.

“Huh?”

“That wasn’t a real kiss,” he says, stepping closer to you. His eyes are soft as he scans your face as if he’s trying to memorise every freckle and blemish, “this is.”

He places two fingers under your chin, lifting your face to look at him. His lips crash into yours, he tastes like sweet vanilla and beer, his hands move gently to cup the side of your face. You’re still for a second, still frozen in place until you finally come to your senses and begin kissing him back. His tongue licks over your lips, and you part them in response, leaning into him as his tongue smooths around your mouth, tangling your fingers in his hair as he teases and smiles into you.

Pulling back, he rests his forehead against yours, opening his eyes to look at you with a breathless grin. “Better?” he whispers against your lips and you can’t manage anything but a nod in response.

His hand drops from your face to find your hand, warm and strong. You find yourself speechless as he turns away from you, dragging you along the street as he giggles to himself like a small child, “C’mon, I’ll walk you home”.

You don’t live far from Jeonghan’s apartment, but the walk with Vernon feels almost like a lifetime as you trade anecdotes on your mutual friends and daily lives.

You learn he works at the record store downtown, he’s been friends with Seungkwan since they were teenagers and, just like you, he had been dragged to the party by his friends - your friends.

Between you two, you note at least six times that you had just missed meeting each other at group hangouts, four times that you had seen the other but been too shy to approach them. A multitude of missed chances, all the times you had gone against the strings of fate.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

As you shut the door to your apartment, you can’t help but smile to yourself, thinking back on the last hour.

If you were being honest with yourself, you were… somewhat of a pessimist when it came to romance. The whole dating thing, to be blunt, you had grown sick of. The back and forth, the chasing, the disappointment. You’re not sure you have the energy for more disappointment.

Vernon, though, manages to slip past you somehow. Manages to slip past the walls you’d built over the years. The way he makes you laugh, his heart-shaped smiles, his chestnut hair perfectly framing his face, the way he views the world with a pure curiosity.

Fuck. Tonight might have been the first time in months that your smiles have been real. Tonight your smiles weren’t products of politeness but real, genuine happiness.

God this can’t be good. You’re going soft. You’re letting a man turn you soft.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Maybe: Vernon [13:12]: I know we JUST saw each other but I can’t stop thinking about that donut place we saw last night.

Your phone vibrates on your desk and you immediately catch yourself smiling. It’s almost embarrassing how he has you giggling at your screen from such a simple message.

Ok. Compose yourself. You still need to respond.

Y/N [13:15]: It’s like you can read my mind.

Vernon [13:16]: I’ll be there in 15.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

“I should tell you something.” You say, walking down the street hand-in-hand with Vernon.

“Out of the blue?”

“Mhm, out of the blue!” You respond, nudging him playfully.

“Go on…”

“I just… I’m not like, ashamed of you. I’m just, I like it like this, just you and me, I like us.”

He chuckles quietly at your sudden candour and timidity.

You hit his arm softly “Bro! I’m being serious.”

“Bro! I know!” He pulls you closer, “It’s nice with you, peaceful, like everything else fades away. I like having you to myself I guesss.”

“Hmm, maybe I should be ashamed of you, I can still change my mind” You say, laughing.

“You couldn’t even if you wanted to”

You respond with a pouty smile, he giggles, his mouth moulding into the heart shape that always manages to melt you.

“Ooo! Wait let’s get ice cream!” He says, his hand leaving yours as he runs to the food stall across the street, still grinning from ear to ear.

You find yourself smiling again. If someone had told you two months ago that you would fall for a film nerd who has the Wikipedia app downloaded onto his phone you might’ve punched them square in the face - and yet, here you are.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

“Cheers!”, your friends call out, clinking their glasses together. All of you are crowded around a small table, you’re sandwiched between Seokmin and Lia who are in the midst of an intense conversation about film adaptations. Vernon is sitting silently at the other end of the table, listening to Chan and Seungkwan rambling on about a lost bet. His eyes meet yours and a quiet smile appears on his face in time with yours.

“Y/N! You’re the literature nerd, can you pleaseee explain the phenomenon that is the 1996 adaptation of Romeo and Juliet” Seokmin says, pulling you away from your silent exchange.

You clear your throat and prepare yourself to give somewhat of a lecture on what you think may be the best modern retelling of Shakespeare.

Almost an hour later, Vernon pipes up, seeking an opportunity. “Anyone want another pint?”

A mumble of yes’s respond as empty glasses are lifted into the air.

“Y/N, mind giving me a hand?” He asks, impressively casually.

“Oh, uh yeah of course.” You say, shooting up from your seat (not so casually).

Standing at the bar waiting for the bartender's attention, Vernon leans over to whisper in your ear, “Should we just… run away?”.

“So tempting Mr. Chwe but I think they might catch on.”

“Hmm I’m not sure, I think they might be too caught up in their own conversations to piece it together.”

“A good point.”

“Wait five minutes, I’ll be outside.” He says assuredly, slyly reaching to squeeze your hand.

And then he’s gone, returning to the table to bid your friends goodbye, glancing at you one last time before he leaves and turns the corner.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

“Finally” He whines jokingly as you exit the bar after escaping the tipsy grasp of your friends.

You laugh, throwing your head back at his dramatics whilst he pulls you in by the waist, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

“I missed you.” He whispers.

You can’t stop yourself from giggling again, “We’ve literally been together the entire night.”

“Sure, but now you’re all mine.” He replies, pressing soft pecks into your skin.

“Can’t deny that.”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Y/N [23:17]: Are you free rn?

Vernon [23:17]: For you? Always.

Y/N [23:19]: Can you come get me?

Vernon [23:21]: Are you ok?

Y/N [23:21]: Yeah, I just need to get out of here

‘Y/N’ shared their location with ‘Vernon’.

The rain is sharp and cold as it falls on you, staring at the puddles forming by your feet. There isn’t a thought in your head as you watch the raindrops fall. Dinner with your family has always brought out the worst in you, always wearing you down, leaving you empty. Your heart is heavy with exhaustion, anger, sadness. Exhaustion.

Then his hand slips into yours. Warm and strong as always.

“Y/N?”

You turn to him, slowly lifting your head to look at him, tears in your eyes. His expression immediately softens, “Come on bub, let me drive you home.” he says, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and opening the car door for you.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t know ‘non, can we not go home yet though? I just need some time to think.”

He nods, starting the engine, “Of course.”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

The sand falls from the gaps between your fingers, you sit beside Vernon, resting your head on his shoulder and letting the sea’s mist kiss your face.

Vernon is the first to break the silence, “I come here a lot, to think.”

“Mm,” you hum “it’s nice here, quiet.”

He kisses the top of your head and returns his focus to the waves crashing against the rocks.

“Sometimes I feel so out of my depth, like I don’t know if i’m doing the right thing or what the right thing is,” you admit quietly, his hand finds yours to show you he’s listening, “It all just feels so out of my control, like everything’s happening around me and not to me and that’s … not fun.”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his chest, “I know bub, and it’s not like there’s an easy fix. It’s just- you just have to feel it, the sadness, the anger, the happiness, that’s the best way. Just like how some waves pass and others break apart, and some mountains seem impossible to climb, that’s just how it is, even if it’s shit. And when it’s overwhelming, that’s okay too because I’ll come and rescue you, we’ll climb the mountains together.”

There’s a moment of silence before he lifts his pinky finger to yours.

“Promise.” he says softly.

You loop your fingers together and seal it with a shake. The sea air carrying your whispers into the night.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

“Okay, options are ramen or takeout.” He calls from the kitchen.

“Hmm, I think we definitely deserve takeout.”

“How come?”

“For being the power couple of the century, what do you mean?”

His laugh echoes through his apartment, “Brooo, you’re so right I can’t believe I even asked.”

He runs over to you, lazily splayed across his couch, lying on top of you he continues to giggle as he buries his face into your neck.

You love lazy Sundays with Vernon, they had quickly become your escape from reality, a sanctuary for yourself, your happiness and your love.

“What movie are we watching today then ‘non?” You ask sweetly, your hands subconsciously playing with his hair.

“I was thinking… academy award winning classic ‘The Grand Budapest Hotel’?”

Ah yes, the film you and Vernon had watched ten times over, the one you would never get sick of, “LETS FUCKING GOOO!!” you yell, excitedly punching the air.

He sits up, looking at you with a cheesy grin, laughing and mirroring your fists, “LETS GO BROO!!”

As much as you love the film, staying focused on it proves to be a struggle - especially with Vernon next to you. You can’t help but watch the intense sparkle in his eyes as he’s entirely consumed by the screen. You find yourself mesmerised by the way he watches and laughs along like it’s the first time.

“It’s hard to focus with your eyes on me” he states abruptly, refusing to tear his eyes away from the TV.

Your cheeks burn red from embarrassment, “Oh, sorry.”

He turns to you then, a blend of concern and mischief on his face, “I didn’t say that I didn’t like it.”

Your eyes widen slightly at his sudden confidence, a part of him that always makes your heart flutter. You don’t even get a chance to respond as his lips capture yours, melting into him as he kisses you passionately, stealing the air from your lungs. One of his hands cups your face gently, a direct juxtaposition from the other which finds its way to your waist, gripping firmly as the two of you move against each other like ocean waves.

Tangling your fingers in his hair, he pulls you onto his lap, moving his lips to suck and nibble at your neck as your breath grows heavy with desire. The moans he releases against your skin echo through you, his hands running up and down your body as you throw your head back, getting hungrier by the minute.

And then he stops.

Huh?

You immediately open your eyes, slightly concerned by the suddenness of his actions, to find his eyes back on the TV whilst his hands continue to fiddle with the hem of your shorts.

“I love this scene.” He whispers, breathless and fascinated.

“Vernonnnn” you whine, throwing yourself back down onto the couch. It’s sweet, honestly, endearing, you find yourself giggling “are you kidding?”

He looks down at you, an innocent smile plastered on his face, his hand still caressing your thigh. He raises a curious eyebrow before breaking into a loud chuckle and leaning back towards you.

“Dude… Of course I’m kidding. I think the film’s gonna have to wait until I’m done with you.” He whispers against your skin, trailing kisses from your lips to your collarbone.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Five months in, you and Vernon had mastered the ‘Romeo and Juliet’ routine. Even around your friends, you cherished every moment with him, every smile, secret touch, knowing look. Even on bad days, your heart feels lighter with Vernon around.

It’s another chaotic Friday night, just like when you had first met Vernon, except this time your friends hadn’t dragged you to Jeonghan and Seungkwan’s apartment but to their favourite karaoke bar. The table you’re sitting at is littered with empty soju bottles and beer cans, you listen intently to one of Jun’s famous anecdotes as BooSeokSoon serenades your friends loudly.

“How do they still have the energy for that?” Wonwoo asks, astounded as the three men jump around, microphones in hand.

‘They’re machines, you know that.” Minghao replies.

“Mm, you’re right.”

Watching your friends, wrapped up in their own little worlds, you’re almost emotional - so happy to see them having fun, so proud to have watched them grow, and then there’s Vernon of course - maybe it’s the alcohol talking but you’re not sure you’ve felt so happy before.

“We should play a game,” Seungcheol slurs, “Should we play a game? Yeah we should play a game.” You laugh at the conversation he’s having with himself, watching as Vernon, grinning stupidly, walks over to his friends to lead them down from the stage and back to the table. The boys around you cheer for the others as they stumble to their chairs, bowing dramatically to their new ‘fans’. Once the havoc settles down, Mingyu taps his ring against his glass “Ok,” he points his finger, scanning the group before landing on Joshua “Shua, what game are we playing?”

“Uh… 365?” Joshua replies, being met with drunken agreement from the rest.

The time passes quickly as you drink and play. Growing tipsy, you hardly notice the change in Vernon’s demeanour when Soonyoung rests his head on your shoulder. It’s nothing new to you, he’s known to be an affectionate drunk - and a light weight, you’re used to his drunken skinship.

Vernon’s patience is running low as the minutes pass, his leg shaking as he watches Soonyoung cuddle up to you. He stands up from his seat across the table, walking over to your seat and taking your hand, leading you outside. Confused, you look back at your friends as you walk with him, finding them all too drunk to notice you and Vernon’s absence.

“Non? Is everything okay?”

“Can we go home now?” He asks softly with hurt eyes.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“I should be sat over there with you, I just don’t want to watch Soonyoung be all cuddly with the person I love.”

“Non, you know he’s just a sleepy drunk, we can go home if you want-”

Wait.

“The person you love?” you question, your eyes soften as you process his words.

“Oh uh, you, I mean… you.” he breaks eye contact, fidgeting nervously.

“For real?” you smile.

He laughs to himself, “Yeah dude, for real.”

You giggle again, smiling wide and throwing your head back. As you do, his hands cup your face, bringing you back to him matching your grin. You reach up to move a strand of hair out of his hair.

“I like jealous Vernon.” you whisper.

“Shut up.” he says, his lips finding yours in a soft and wanting kiss.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

You’re lying in bed, glowing with sweat, tangled up in your sheets and wrapped in Vernon’s arms. The calmness that washes over you in these moments is immeasurable, the comfort and contentedness you feel is something that you wish would last forever.

There’s a knock on your door and you both shoot up from the bed.

“Y/N, are you home?” Your roommate calls from the other side of the door.

“I thought…” He whispers with wide eyes.

“Yeah… Lia’s not meant to be back until tomorrow” You reply, scrambling to throw some clothes on.

“What do we do?”

“Y/N?” Lia calls again.

You search your room looking for some kind of escape plan before it dawns on you, there was only one option.

You point to the closet.

He shoots you a questioning look.

“I don’t fucking know bro” you whisper, rushing to make yourself somewhat presentable.

You open the door, Vernon finally hidden, “Hey, you’re back early!” you say to Lia, trying your best to hide the fact that there was a man hiding in your closet.

“Yeah, we finished early so I got the train this morning. I was just wondering if you wanted to get lunch later?”

“Sounds good! Give me like 30 minutes?”

“Yep that works for me” Lia says as she disappears into her room.

You shut the door, letting out a deep breath.

“You can come out now.”

Vernon pokes his head out of the closet, scanning the room before stepping out. You stare at each other in silence before bursting into laughter.

“I swear I almost shat the bed!” Vernon says, throwing himself down on the mattress.

“Bro, that was crazy…” you agree, joining him on the bed.

Your laughter slowly fades into a comfortable silence.

“Should we just…” you begin.

“Tell them?” Vernon finishes.

You hum in agreement.

“I mean… why not? As long as you’re with me, I think… I think It’ll be okay.” You speak softly, he’s quiet for a few seconds until he starts peppering kisses all over your face, smiling sweetly against your skin.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

A couple days later, you and Vernon stand in front of the restaurant, you can see your friends chatting inside the building. Your hand is in his, his thumb caressing yours. You look at each other, sharing an anxious but determined look, before nodding and walking towards the door.

When you enter the restaurant, it’s almost comical the way that your friends turn to look at you, their eyes dropping to your interlocked hands.

Anticipative silence fills the room as you exchange looks.

“I FUCKING TOLD YOU GUYS!” Seungkwan yells excitedly, standing up from his chair and pointing an accusatory finger at your friends, inciting a blur of exclamations from the rest of the group.

Vernon looks at you, smiling, before you sit down beside each other and prepare yourself for the abundance of questions coming your way.

taglist: @christinewithluv

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janiehellion · 3 months ago

Text

Breaking Through

ONESHOT

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Daryl’s reckless behavior on a supply run nearly gets him killed, pushing you to remind him how to stay humble. Little did you know, his attitude was hiding something much deeper that only you could break through.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: MOMMY KINK / SMUT / BODY WORSHIP / ORAL SEX / EDGING / TEASING / HURT / COMFORT / AFTERCARE / LANGUAGE

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 7.799

ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ: LATE S5 & EARLY S6

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: @mayday2007

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ: I truly hope I did your request justice! I also hope that the length of it is okay and that it met your expectations. And thank you so much for your patience!

MASTERLIST & REQUEST GUIDELINES

You leaned against the porch, one of the few spots in Alexandria that didn’t make you want to rip your hair out. It all felt too damn clean sometimes, too fake even. Here, it was easy to forget how the world had gone to shit, but... Daryl? He never let himself forget. He was walking around by the gate, looking like an animal waiting for a fight, and you knew why...

Rick and a few others were getting ready for a run—another trip outside the safe walls to scavenge for supplies. But more than that, it was an excuse for Daryl to escape the suffocation of Alexandria. He’d rather be out there with the walkers than in here, playing pretend.

"Daryl," you called out, and he stopped pacing and turned to face you, his eyes narrowing like he was already preparing for a lecture from you.

"What?" He grunted, sounding as defensive as ever. He was always on alert these days, and it was only getting worse since you arrived in Alexandria.

"Listen," you started, stepping down from the porch and running toward him as he prepared to leave. "I know you hate this place, and I understand; I really do, but you need to keep your head on straight out there. You’re not just out there for yourself. You’ve got Rick, Glenn, and Michonne with you today. You fuck anything up; they could get hurt too. Please, just be careful."

He looked away, scuffing his boot against the ground like a stubborn child who didn’t want to hear what you were saying. "Ain’t no damn kid. Can handle myself," he growled back at you.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. This wasn’t the first time you’d had this conversation, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. "You might be able to handle yourself, sure, and we all know that you are more than capable of doing that, but that doesn’t mean you can act reckless. You need to listen to Rick, do what he says, and stop acting like a damn brat. You keep pulling this shit, and one of these days, it’s gonna bite you in the ass. Literally."

Daryl clenched his jaw and scoffed, and for a moment, you thought he might actually argue with you. But then he just shook his head. "Yer done now?"

"No, Daryl, I’m not done," you snapped back, feeling your frustration grow and almost boil over. "I’m tired of watching you do this bullshit, okay? We’re all trying to make this work, and you’re out there acting like you’ve got a death wish. We’ve lost too many people already, and I’m not about to lose you or anyone else because you couldn’t keep your damn self in check."

For a second, you saw something like vulnerability, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He looked away again, like he was trying to block out your words, not wanting to listen to you.

"Just... think about what I said, okay?" You said, the tone in your voice softening slightly. You didn’t want to push him too hard, but you couldn’t just let this slide again all the time. "I’m not trying to piss you off, Daryl. I just don’t want to see you get hurt. We all need you to come back. I... I need you to come back."

He didn’t say anything; he just gave you a nod before finally turning away. But as you watched him walk toward Rick, you couldn’t ignore the feeling that something bad was going to happen on this run.

Rick was already waiting by the gate, his hands on his hips as he looked around Alexandria. He seemed to be tired, but when he saw you approaching as well, he gave you a small smile.

"Did you talk to him?" Rick asked, his voice whispering, so only you could hear.

"Yeah," you replied, glancing over at Daryl, who was busy playing around with his knife. "But you know how he is. Stubborn as hell."

Rick laughed a little, but there was no real humor in it. "Yeah. Isn't that the truth? Don’t worry, I'll keep an eye on him while we’re out there, alright? If he does something stupid..."

"You'll make sure he doesn’t," you interrupted, not needing him to finish the sentence.

"Alright. Got it. We’ll be back before you know it," Rick said, louder now and turning to the gate as it opened, and Glenn arrived with the car. "We’re heading out. Stay close, keep quiet, and don’t take any unnecessary risks. We get what we need, and we get back. That's it."

You watched as Daryl took his crossbow and walked with Rick and the others over to the truck. You were worried, sure, but you forced yourself to stay calm. This was Daryl Dixon, after all. He was tough, he was resourceful, and he’d been through far worse than this. But still, there was that uncomfortable feeling in the back of your mind, the one that told you things weren’t going to go smoothly today.

Rick took Daryl aside in the meantime. "Listen, Daryl. We stick to the plan, and we get back without any extra bullshit. You got that?"

Daryl glared at Rick but didn’t say anything. You knew that look; it was the one that said he was going to do what he wanted anyway.

With that, Rick and the others—Glenn and Michonne, in this case—headed out, leaving you in Alexandria with the rest of the group.

You turned away, heading back to the house, but your thoughts were still with Daryl. You just hoped he’d listen to you for once, or rather, Rick. Because if he didn’t, you weren’t sure you’d be able to forgive him—or yourself—if something went wrong.

The truck stopped at the side of a parking lot some time later. Abandoned cars were standing around all over the place, with their windows shattered and rotting corpses still sitting in some of them. It was a graveyard. Rick turned off the engine and looked over to the building, his face already showing that things were about to get rough.

"This place is full of walkers," Rick mumbled, looking around the area. "Okay… We get in, we get out. No fucking around. Got it?"

Everyone nodded, even Daryl, though the look in his eyes told a different story. Alexandria was killing him slowly, suffocating him with its safety and daily routine, and one could see he was just waiting to break free, to remind himself what it felt like to be out there again, in the real world, and not living in an illusion.

"Stick together," Rick continued, his eyes narrowing at Daryl like he could read his mind. "We’re hitting that grocery store, grabbing what we can, and getting the hell out. Nothing else, no bullshit."

Daryl grunted in response, his hand tightening around his crossbow. He wasn’t making any promises; that was clear enough, but at least he wasn’t outright showing it. That would have to be good enough. The four of them got out of the truck, their weapons ready, and slowly made their way toward the store. It looked like it had been raided a few times already, but Rick had heard from Aaron that a shipment had been left behind in the storage rooms—lots of canned food, water, and even medicine inside the small pharmacy of the store, locked up in the back, just waiting to be taken. Easy, if they played it safe.

Of course, playing it safe had not been Daryl’s way of doing it lately, not when his blood was boiling, and especially not since the prison, Terminus, and the other hell everyone went through. And especially not ever since Alexandria.

They went through the side entrance, which was once for the people that had worked there, the glass doors hanging off their hinges, and one could easily guess how most of the walkers got into the store in the first place, apart from those walkers that’ve died inside while scavenging. The inside of the store was pure chaos, with broken shelves, rotten food, and other empty products all across the floor. They moved quietly as Rick led the way, his Colt Python out and ready as always, Glenn close behind with his knife drawn, and Michonne with her sword, while Daryl was at the end, pointing his crossbow around as well. They soon made it to the back of the store, where the stockroom doors were, without drawing any attention so far.

"Alright," Rick whispered, motioning for the others to cover him. "Glenn and I will try to open the door. Michonne, watch our backs. Daryl, you—"

But before Rick could finish, Daryl was already moving. He didn’t like waiting, didn’t like standing around while others decided what to do, or having to wait for a plan. Without a word, he went off to the right, disappearing down one of the side aisles, his crossbow at the ready.

"Daryl!" Rick hissed, but there was no stopping him.

"Shit," Glenn grumbled in a bit of annoyance and panic, his eyes looking at Rick. "Where the hell is he going? What is he doing?"

Rick shook his head in frustration. "Just... just stay here," he ordered before walking after Daryl, cursing to himself with every step.

Daryl moved fast, his crossbow raised as he approached the loading dock at the back of the store from another side. He could hear the sounds of walkers moving behind the metal door, but this was exactly what he was looking for. He shoved the door open with a grunt, with the door making a noise that could be heard all throughout the whole store.

The walkers inside turned at the sound, and they immediately moved forward, their arms outstretched.

"C’mon, ya ugly bastards," Daryl mumbled, the first bolt killing the nearest walker in an instant. The walker fell to the ground, but the others kept coming.

He reloaded quickly, but just as he was about to fire again, a hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling him off balance. He hadn’t noticed the few other walkers, hidden in an open employee restroom nearby, their fingers grabbing his vest with their teeth only inches away from his face.

"Fuck!" Daryl growled, kicking the walker in front of him back and grabbing his knife. But he soon stumbled, falling down to the floor with the two of them on top of him. The impact knocked the knife from his hands, letting it slide across the floor, just out of reach, as he struggled to push the walkers off.

Then, just as the walkers’ teeth were about to bite into his flesh, several gunshots could be heard. Daryl gasped for breath, shoving the dead off him as he got to his feet, his heart racing while he looked over at Rick standing in the doorway with his Colt Python.

"You stupid son of a bitch," Rick said, lowering the gun. "What the hell were you even thinking?"

Daryl wiped the blood from his face, glaring at Rick but not saying a single word. He didn’t need to—he knew he’d fucked up, and Rick certainly knew it too.

But Rick didn’t wait for an explanation. "We need to hurry. Get your damn ass back to the truck. Now!"

For now, Daryl didn’t argue. He grabbed his crossbow and knife, putting it over his shoulder as he moved past Rick and over to Glenn and Michonne. He could feel Rick’s eyes on his back, judging him, and it took everything in him not to lash out. But he knew Rick was right. He’d been reckless, and it had nearly cost him his life. Not only that, but the supply run failed with the other walkers in the front of the store now moving toward the storage room.

Once outside, Daryl couldn’t ignore the thought that he’d fucked up more than just the run. He’d broken the trust, not just with Rick but with you. And he knew he’d have to face the consequences when he got back.

The sun was starting to set when you saw Rick and the others coming through the gate. You’d been waiting, walking around Alexandria, trying to distract yourself. But the deal had been clear—Rick would bring Daryl back in one piece and tell you every detail. But the moment you caught sight of Rick, you knew something had gone wrong. It was written all over his face, as was the fact that they had no supplies with them.

"Rick," you called out, running over to him.

He looked up at you, nodding and narrowing his eyes. You hated that look. It meant bad news, and you were tired of bad news.

"What happened?" You demanded as he walked next to you. "Where’s Daryl?"

"He’s fine," Rick said, holding up a hand to calm you down, though it didn’t do shit for your nerves. "I don't know where he is right now. Jumped right out of the truck. Physically, he’s okay. But, hell, it was close. Too close. Again."

Your stomach dropped at his words. This was getting out of hand. "What do you mean, 'close'?"

Rick rubbed the back of his neck, looking away for a moment. "We were in that store Aaron told us about, wanting to get the supplies. Daryl decided to go off on his own, like he always does lately. Didn’t wait for us as a backup, just did his own thing. Not even telling us that there was an easier way and that he has seen it. Next thing I know, he’s nearly got two walkers biting into his damn neck."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You asked, your hands balling into fists at your sides. "I told him—hell, we both told him so many times—not to pull that lone wolf bullshit anymore! And he still did it? I can’t fucking believe it!"

Rick nodded. "Yeah. Same old Daryl, too stubborn for his own good. I got there in time, but if I hadn’t... well, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now."

You sucked in a breath, trying to calm the rage inside you. But it was hard—damn hard—when you pictured Daryl almost getting himself killed because he couldn’t follow simple instructions. "What the hell is wrong with him, Rick? Why does he keep doing this shit? Is Alexandria that bad for him? I mean, yeah, we all aren’t used to this... illusion, but hell, we’re at least trying to make the best of it! All of us!"

Rick sighed, leaning against the porch railing once you both arrived at the house. "I don’t think it’s only about Alexandria, not entirely. But yeah, it’s too controlled, too... fake. So he goes out there, trying to prove he’s still... still who he was out there. But it’s not like none of us tries the exact same thing. We all do. Or did."

You shook your head in frustration. "I get it; I do. But we can’t keep going on like this. He’s going to get himself killed—or worse, get someone else hurt. I’m fucking done sitting around, hoping he’ll pull his head out of his damn ass!"

Rick looked at you with a small smile. "By now I was thinking the same thing on the way back. We’ve tried to talk sense into him, but he isn’t listening. He’s too stubborn."

"That’s it," you finally said. "I’m handling this. If he won’t listen to you, maybe he’ll finally listen to me. But one way or another, this shit stops today, I swear."

Rick’s eyebrows moved up in surprise before he nodded slowly. "You sure? I don’t think you should push him into a corner."

You smirked, but it was more due to annoyance than amusement. "Oh, I’m sure. He’s going to learn today that there’s more than one way to get his damn ass in line. Trust me, Rick. Otherwise… Otherwise, I just don’t know what to do anymore."

Rick laughed a little and shook his head. "Alright then. Just don’t go too hard on him. And you must remember that it takes time. With… all of this."

You waved him off, already halfway down the steps of the porch. "He’ll be fine, Rick."

As you headed toward the garage, where you knew Daryl was probably working on his bike, your mind was already racing with what you were going to say. This wasn’t just about Daryl acting like a reckless asshole—this was about keeping him and the others alive, keeping him from throwing away everything you’d fought so hard for in this new world, with the rest of the group.

The moment you stepped into the garage, he barely looked your way, too focused on tightening a bolt that didn’t even need any more tightening. But you weren’t about to let him ignore you, not after what Rick had told you.

"Daryl," you started, but he only grunted in response, and that was about it—just a damn grunt, like he couldn’t be bothered to reply with words. And it pissed you off how he could be so nonchalant after nearly getting himself killed.

"Look at me," you snapped, stepping closer to him. "I said... Look at me, Dixon."

He paused, his hand stilling on the wrench, before finally looking into your eyes with a scoff.

"You think you can just go off on your own and do whatever the fuck you want? Well, guess what, Daryl? You almost got your damn throat ripped out today. And for what? Because you couldn’t listen? Because you’re too stubborn to accept that you’re part of a community now, and not some lone wolf out there in the woods with a group he helps out every now and then?" You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Ain’t like that," he mumbled, but it didn’t really sound like he was trying to defend himself.

"Bullshit!" You shot back, stepping even closer until you were right in his face, close enough to see the way his eyes widened slightly. "It’s exactly like that, and you know it. And for what? To prove something? To whom? You ain’t gotta prove anything to me, Daryl. And certainly not our group. But you do owe it to us to stop acting like a fucking idiot!"

He turned away from you, but you weren’t done yet. "This isn’t just about you anymore, Dixon. Every time you pull this shit, you put everyone at risk. Everyone! You get bit, we lose a member of this group. A member of our damn family! You die, and we all suffer! Do you even get that? Or are you that stuck with your own damn head up your ass that you can’t see that?"

"Ain’t need ya shittin’ on me," he growled, his voice quiet, but you caught something like guilt in it. "Can handle my ass."

"Clearly," you snapped at him with sarcasm. "Because you handled yourself so well today that Rick had to pull your ass out of a walker’s mouth. Real smooth, Daryl! Real fucking smooth!"

He flinched at that, his eyes narrowing as he turned back to face you. "Ain’t like I needed any damn help."

You didn’t back down, though. You were way past that. "And that’s the problem, Daryl. You think that you don’t need anyone. But guess what? You do. You need us, and we need you. So stop acting like an asshole and start thinking about what you’re doing to everyone else."

For a second, you thought he might lash out. But instead, he just looked at you—really looked at you—like he was trying to figure something out. "Why ya care s’ much?" He finally asked.

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "Because I give a shit, you damn idiot. Because I... care about you more than anyone else here even knows, and I’m not about to watch you throw your life away over some macho bullshit, or whatever you’re trying to act like. You think I want to lose you? You think any of us do?"

He stared at you. "Ain’t tryna make shit harder," he muttered, looking down at the ground, shrugging his shoulders. "Jus’... can’t stand it ‘ere sometimes. Ain’t me ‘round ‘ere."

"Who you are isn’t some reckless idiot who doesn’t give a damn about anyone else. Who you are is someone who’s saved more lives than you can count, someone who’s part of a family now. And yeah, maybe it’s different here and maybe it’s hard, but that doesn’t give you the right to check out whenever you feel like it, as if this community is a fucking hotel!"

He didn’t say anything; he just kept looking at you with those blue, searching eyes, like he was waiting for you to give him something—some kind of direction.

You took a deep breath. "Daryl, you need to stop this shit. You need to stop before you get yourself killed. And if you won’t listen to Rick, then you’ll damn well listen to me. Got it?"

"Yeah," he said, almost whispering. "Got it."

"Good," you said. "Because this stops now. You’re done running off, done putting yourself at risk for no damn reason. From now on, you listen, just like before. We’re all a big team, Daryl, and we still are despite everything. Understand?"

"Yeah… Do ya still lo—" He started but stopped himself from speaking any further. "Are ya mad?"

"What? No, I’m not mad," you answered, stepping back to leave, wanting to give him some space. "But I’m hurt and disappointed."

Daryl sat there for a long time after you left. He gritted his teeth, and his fists were clenched, but it wasn’t anger. It was guilt. Shame even. All he knew was that he’d fucked up.

"Stupid, stupid fuckin’ idiot," he mumbled to himself, running a hand through his hair while he could still hear your voice in his head. "Fuckin’ piece o' shit. Can’t even keep yer damn head straight."

He felt like a fool, like a stubborn kid who’d just been put in his place. But it wasn’t just the anger that stuck with him—it was the look in your eyes, the pain and fear of what could’ve happened to him.

"Gotta make this right," he grumbled, now walking around the garage. "Ain’t gonna let her think I’m some reckless asshole who don’t care ‘bout nothin’." He rubbed the back of his neck. "She’s right… Been actin’ like a damn idiot. But… shit, need t’ prove I ain’t just some fuckup."

He knew you’d left him alone on purpose, letting him think about it, just like you’ve done several times before. But this time, he wasn’t going to sit here and wait for you to come back. He had a plan—a rather half-baked plan, but it was all he had. He needed to show you how much you meant to him and how much he needed you.

"Fuck, she’s gonna kill me," he sighed, shaking his head as he made his way out of the garage. And he knew exactly where and in what house he was going to find you.

You were already half asleep, lying on the floor on a mattress, when you felt someone being there—before you even opened your eyes. It was Daryl, of course, kneeling over you as he carefully pulled the sheets back.

"What the hell are you doing, Dixon?" You mumbled, still groggy. "Leave me alone."

He didn’t answer right away; he just pressed a kiss to your shoulder, then another, moving down your arm, his lips barely touching your skin. It was slow on purpose, like he was trying to worship every inch of you to make up for all the stupid shit he’d done. And it was working, even if it pissed you off that he thought he could just... seduce his way out of this.

"Daryl," you warned, but your voice was weak due to the way his strong, big hands were now sliding down your sides to your waist.

"‘M sorry," he whispered, before he kissed the sensitive spot on your neck. "Fucked it up, I know that. But need ya to know... I ain’t a fool. I need ya, more than ya fuckin’ know."

You wanted to stay mad, to shove him away from you and tell him to get his shit together, but his touch—God, it was like he knew exactly what he was doing, like he was taking away your anger with every kiss and every touch of his hands. And when he put his head lower, kissing along your ribs after he pulled up your shirt, you felt almost frustrated.

"Daryl," you breathed out as a warning again, but he didn’t stop. He slid his hands further up your shirt, pulling it over your head as he kissed down your ribs, his fingers grabbing your body like he was trying to show you that he was still alive.

"Need ya," he mumbled against your skin, his voice sounding almost desperate. "Need ya t’ know I ain’t takin’ this for granted."

"Daryl, stop…" You started, but your words were cut off by a gasp as he found that spot just above your waist, his lips kissing you harder, and his teeth softly biting your skin. You felt a shiver run through you, and hell, you hated how much you wanted this, how much you wanted him to keep going.

"I’ll stop if ya want me to, I swear," he whispered, but he didn’t stop, not really. His hands slid down, undoing your pants and wanting to slide them down, which made you stop breathing for a moment.

You were looking at him, your eyes narrowing. "You think you can just—" You started, but then he shut you up—kissing you hard and long, cutting off your words. And fuck, if it didn’t make your whole body shiver with need.

"Can’t help it," he muttered against your lips, his voice a little shaky, like he was losing control. "Can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout ya, ‘bout how much I need ya."

"You think this makes up for what you did? For your reckless behavior?" You asked, shaking your head slightly.

"Nah," he admitted. "Gotta show ya somehow. Gotta show ya how much I fuckin’ care."

You grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands away from your pants, even though you were already aching for him. "You don’t get to touch me like that," you said. "Not until I say so."

He swallowed hard, his breath stopping as he nodded, his eyes wide. "Please," he whispered, looking up at you and waiting for permission.

"Please what?" You demanded, tightening your grip on his wrists. "You think you can just come in here and expect me to forgive you? After everything?"

"Nah," he stammered, his eyes looking down to the floor again. "But… I need ya. I need ya t’ see that I can make it right."

"You wanna make it right, Daryl?" You asked again. "Then you’re gonna do exactly what I say, like I said."

"Yeah," he answered, his body almost trembling with the need to make you forgive him. "I’ll do whatever ya want."

You let go of his wrists, letting them fall back to his sides. "Take off your clothes," you ordered, the tone in your voice leaving no room for argument.

He hesitated for just a second, but then he started to stand up and get out of his clothes, his hands shaking as he got out of his shirt, then his pants, and the rest, until he was standing there, naked and vulnerable before you.

"Now get back on your knees," you demanded, watching as his eyes widened.

He dropped to his knees, waiting for your next command. And fuck, if that didn’t send a rush of power straight through you.

You stood over him, your hand reaching out to grab his hair, pulling his head back so he was forced to look up at you. "Look at me."

And he did. He slowly looked up in shame.

"You don’t get to play the lone wolf out there," you continued, stepping closer, your hand grabbing his chin, moving his head up further. "Not anymore. You almost got yourself killed."

"I know," he muttered. "‘M sorry..."

He wanted—no, he needed—to show you how he felt about his mistakes, and he was ready to do it on his knees if that’s what you demanded.

You let go of him, letting him fall forward, as you lay back down onto the mattress. "Show me," you simply said.

And he did—God, he did... He kissed every inch of you, his lips moving lower, his hands gripping your hips like he was afraid you might disappear, and he held onto you like you were the only person able to keep him safe.

He didn’t need to be told twice—he knew what he had to do to make things right.

You leaned back on the mattress, spreading your legs just enough to invite him closer, and watched his hands shake a little as they slid up your thighs.

"Yes," he whispered quietly. He was trying to be tough, but you could see through it. The man was already lost in you, in the need to make you feel good to make up for his earlier bullshit.

No, he couldn’t keep his hands off you; the way he now nearly ripped off the rest of your clothes was almost urgent.

"Goddamn," he whispered, his eyes wide and hungry as he took in the sight of you. "So fuckin’ beautiful."

His hands were trembling as he reached for your bra, fumbling with it before finally getting it off. He slid it off your shoulders, throwing it over to your pants on the floor, his eyes never leaving your breasts.

Daryl’s mouth went dry as he leaned in, his lips stopping just above one nipple. "Can’t believe yer lettin’ me touch ya like this," he whispered, more to himself than to you. Then he closed his mouth around your nipple, his tongue moving over it, making you gasp.

He sucked and licked, using his teeth just a little, sliding them lightly against it, while his other hand was pinching and rolling the other.

"Fuck, Daryl," you groaned, your hands moving through his hair, holding him close as he worshiped your breasts like they were the most important things in the world. "Don’t stop."

He growled against your skin and kept going; he kept sucking, licking, and teasing until your nipples were swollen and hard, sensitive to every little touch.

He soon pulled back, a line of spit connecting his mouth to your nipple before it broke, and he greedily licked over it once more. His eyes were full with need, his breathing heavy as he looked up at you, like he was waiting for permission to keep going.

"You’re going to be a good boy and keep worshipping me?" You asked, your voice teasing and commanding him at the same time.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Please… Need t’…"

"Then do it," you ordered, and that was all the encouragement he needed.

Daryl’s hands moved lower, sliding down your sides, moving along your hips before coming to a stop between your legs. His fingers brushed against your pussy, finding you already wet and wanting, and he let out a growl.

He started slowly, almost with hesitation, like he was worshipping at some holy altar. His lips brushed over the inside of your thighs, soft at first, but when you grabbed his hair again, he got the message. His mouth found your pussy the moment he ripped off your panties, and it was as if a switch flipped.

Daryl buried his face between your legs, his tongue working desperately, like he couldn’t get enough of you. You let out a moan, your hand tightening in his hair, guiding him but also keeping him under your control.

"Fuck, Daryl," you breathed out. "Just like that."

And he couldn’t stop, even if he wanted to. Every part of him was focused on you—on the taste of you, the way you trembled when he hit just the right spot. He was completely at your mercy, with the need to prove himself to make you proud.

You could feel him moan against you and how he was getting lost in it, in you. You knew he was desperate for more, desperate for any sign that he was doing good and that you’d forgive him. But you weren’t about to make it easy for him. Not yet, at least.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to get him away from you, and he looked up at you, his lips wet and parted, already missing the taste of you. "Please," he growled out, and you could see the need to do more, to have more of you.

"You keep listening to me. You understand?" You asked, caressing his head gently.

"Yeah," he stammered and nodded in return.

You pushed his head back down, with his tongue slipping inside your pussy almost immediately, like he was trying to eat out every bit of forgiveness he could get.

And fuck, did it feel good. The way he was eating out your pussy, every little move of his tongue, the way he sucked on your clit just hard enough to make you see stars—it was like he was made for this, made to worship you.

"Fuck, don’… don’ make me stop," he growled out in between. He was trembling now, hands still gripping your hips tightly, his eyes wide with something that seemed close to panic, like he couldn’t stand being away from you for even a second.

But you leaned down, grabbing his chin, forcing him to look at you. "You want to make this right? You wait until I’m ready."

He nodded quickly, swallowing hard, his eyes pleading without a word and barely holding it together. He was ready to do anything you asked, to wait as long as you wanted him to, just for a chance to taste you again.

"Good boy," you moaned, suddenly pulling him up to kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips. He kissed you like he was starved for it, holding on for dear life.

And you could feel how hard he was—the desperate twitching of his already leaking cock against your thigh—but you weren’t done teasing him yet. "You’re doing so good, Daryl. Go on now."

"Yes, mommy," he whimpered, the word coming out of his mouth before he could even stop it.

"What did you just call me?" You asked in shock and froze.

Daryl’s eyes widened in shock and panic. "Didn’t mean t’ say that," he said, his voice trembling. "I jus’—"

"Say it again," you commanded, cutting him off. "Say it."

He swallowed hard, his eyes looking around as if searching for an escape, but he knew he couldn’t hide from you. "Yes, mommy," he whispered quietly, a shiver running through him as he said the word again.

But you didn’t miss the way his eyes dropped to the floor. "Good boy," you simply answered. "Go on…"

He didn’t hesitate, his hands following the curves of your body again, his lips following close behind. He kissed down your neck, in between your breasts, along your stomach as he moved lower, his hands soon enough sliding up your thighs and over your pussy.

"Shit," he mumbled, his eyes widening as he realized just how ready you were for him. "Yer so fuckin’ wet."

He didn’t say anything else, too focused on what he was doing. His fingers moved through your wet folds, teasing you until you were trembling with need, and he circled your clit with his thumb slowly on purpose, watching your face for every little reaction.

And one moan—that was all he needed. He leaned in, his mouth replacing his fingers, his tongue sliding over your clit, licking and sucking it gently all over. He didn’t rush, didn’t hurry, and took his time.

"Fuck, Daryl," you moaned, your fingers gripping his hair, holding him in place as he devoured you. "That’s it… don’t stop."

He didn’t need to be told twice. He kept going, kept licking, sucking, and teasing until you were right on the edge and close to coming.

The control he was giving you made you feel powerful, and hell, if that wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever experienced.

"Please, mommy," he begged. "Lemme make ya cum now."

"Keep going," you commanded, feeling yourself getting closer due to his words. "Don’t stop. Oh, fuck…"

He obeyed, and when you finally came, you gasped and moaned, your body arching and trembling under the force of it. But as soon as you began to come down from your orgasm, you noticed how he started to get more aggressive, his hands gripping your hips harder. He pulled back slightly, his eyes burning into yours as he moved back up.

"Wanna fuck ya," he growled almost primal, grabbing his cock and pushing it against your pussy.

But you shoved him back. "Not so fast," you said. "You’re going to do it my way."

He looked at you with frustration and desperation. "But… I need ya," he said, his voice cracking a little bit. "Please!"

You didn’t give in. Instead, you watched as he tried to hold himself back. "If you want more, you’re going to have to do it my way, Daryl. How many times do I have to tell you?"

"Yeah, ‘kay," he murmured and nodded, his voice trembling.

"Not yet," you said, wrapping your hand around his shaft. The hardness of his cock was pulsing against your hand, and you enjoyed the power it gave you. "You’re going to wait a little longer."

Daryl’s breath hitched, his fingers digging into the mattress as he tried to control himself. "Please," he begged, his voice raw and desperate. "Need it."

You only smiled, slowly stroking him, your movements maddeningly slow. "You want more?" You teased, leaning closer to him. "You want me to keep going? To make you cum already as well?"

He nodded quickly. "Yes! Please, mommy. Can’t take it no more!"

You took your time, each move up and down his shaft, making him moan and writhe.

"Fuck, don’ stop," he groaned. "Please, I can’t—"

"Hush now," you interrupted, squeezing his cock. "You’re going to wait until I say so. If you want to be a good boy, you’ll follow my instructions."

Daryl’s cock was coated in his pre-cum and throbbing in your hand, and every time you squeezed just a little harder, he would shiver, his voice breaking into pleas and whimpers.

"Please… ‘M so close," he whimpered. "Can’t hold back much longer."

You looked down at him, smirking, and then you jerked him faster and harder, bringing him right to the edge. His body was tense and almost painfully trying to hold off his orgasm.

"Daryl," you said softly, your hand driving him mad. "I want you to beg for it. Just a little bit more."

His pleas turned into desperate murmurs as he struggled with himself. "Please… Need t’… Jus’ let me... Oh fuck!"

With a final pump, you brought him right to the very edge again, feeling his cock throbbing against your palm. Then, just when you could see he was about to break, you pulled back, stopping altogether.

Daryl let out a whimper, his eyes desperate. "Fuck, please… Need it."

You leaned in close, kissing his neck. "Not yet. I want you to really feel it, to know how much you need me."

"Please," he begged again. "Please..."

"Tell me how much you need it," you smiled at him.

He swallowed hard, his voice cracking as he spoke. "Need it so bad, mommy, please... Need t’ cum for ya. Need ya..."

You gave him one final, hard stroke, and then you stopped again, making him groan and tremble over you, the muscles in his arms tensing up painfully hard. "Good boy," you whispered, finally giving him permission to slide into your pussy, just not all the way.

"No further," you said. "Just the tip. Hold it back."

He groaned, his hands gripping the sheets next to you on the mattress. "Please," he begged, his voice breaking. "Lemme fuck ya..."

You ignored his pleas, your hand still pumping up and down his shaft. "Say it," you commanded. "Say you’re my good boy, Daryl."

"‘M yer good boy," he mumbled, closing his eyes in embarrassment.

Finally, when you could see the look on his face—the way he was practically begging to come—you leaned in. "You want it now?"

"Yeah," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Please, mommy..."

His cock was pulsing, the tip pressing into you just enough to make him groan but not enough to give him what he wanted.

You watched as a sudden tear rolled down his cheek—a single, small, and tiny drop. The sight of it—so rare for someone like Daryl—made you widen your eyes. You could see the complete surrender—the way he was completely at your mercy.

Without warning, you pushed against him, taking him all the way in, and made him cry out, his body shuddering as he filled you up and feeling your pussy stretch around his cock. The look of shock and ecstasy on his face was too much, even for you. His eyes widened, his lips parting slightly, and his cock was pulsing inside you, his body trembling uncontrollably.

"Fuck! Fuck…"

And the moment you took him in fully, he came hard inside of you with a loud groan, his body trying to push in as deep as possible as he reached his orgasm, while you held him close, feeling the last of his cum filling you up as he finished.

You soon lay there, your body still tingling, but Daryl, on the other hand, was a mess after he quickly pulled out of you. Now his walls were coming back up, and he was doing his best to act like he didn’t need a damn thing from you.

He was trying to play it cool, turning his face away, still shaking a little bit. "Jus’… gotta go," he mumbled, trying to shove you away. "Don’ need ya all up in m’ shit now."

"Oh, come on. You can’t be serious," you smirked, running a finger teasingly down his chest.

He glared at you, trying to push you away once more. "‘M fine. Jus’ leave me ‘lone," he grumbled.

"Look at you, all tough and cold again. But you were begging for it only a minute ago." You let your hand move over his skin, feeling his muscles twitch. "And now you’re just going to be an ass about it? Not a chance."

He froze as you touched him. "Shut up," he snapped. "Don’t need yer damn pity."

You rolled your eyes, leaning in close. "Pity? This isn’t pity, Daryl."

He tried to pull away again, but you held him close, your hands moving up to his chin. You tilted his head so he had no choice but to look at you.

"Seriously?" You said with a smile. "You’re going to act like a brat now? After everything?" You moved closer, teasing him with a kiss on his lips.

Daryl’s breath stopped for a second, and you felt him shudder under your touch. "Fuck off," he muttered, but it was sounding rather weak, almost as if he was trying to convince himself more than you.

You laughed, cupping his chin more firmly. "Make me. Or... maybe you really are just a brat who needs to be put in his place all over again."

He shivered as he fought with himself. "No… Don’ need this," he mumbled, but it was clear he was losing the battle against himself. His voice was getting quieter, and he knew that he was failing miserably.

Then, you finally met his lips with yours. It was a slow, gentle kiss, with you wanting to give him reassurance. He moaned against them, the sound full of desperation.

When you pulled back, you saw how his eyes were wide, and he suddenly nuzzled up against you, his face buried in your neck, his body trembling as if he was trying to hold onto whatever was left of his defenses.

"‘M so sorry," he murmured against your skin, his voice breaking. "Didn’ mean t’... I jus’—"

You ran your fingers through his hair, cuddling him closer as he clung to you. "Quiet," you whispered, putting your lips against his forehead. "It’s okay."

He wrapped his arms around you, his grip a little rough as if he was afraid you might slip away. "I fucked up," he said. "Almos’ got m’self killed an’ hurt ya. ‘M so damn sorry."

You held him close, his body pressed against yours. "I know," you said softly. "But you’re still alive, Daryl."

But the moment of calm was ruined when Daryl’s body tensed up again, with him starting to sob violently.

"Shit," he choked out, tears rolling down his cheeks. "‘M such a fuckin’ asshole. Messed everythin’ up. Could’ve died an’—"

You shushed him, holding him even tighter, pressing kisses to his temples. You didn’t say much, letting your actions speak louder than any words even could.

He kept mumbling apologies, his sobs so intense that they shook his whole body. "Ain’t good ‘nough. ‘M worthless. Jus’ a useless piece o’ shit," he sobbed further, his voice cracking.

You gently cupped his face again, lifting it so you could look into his wet eyes. Slowly, you wiped the tears away with your thumbs, kissing his cheeks where the tears had been rolling down.

"Hush," you whispered softly. "You’re not a useless piece of shit. You’re not worthless. You made a mistake, but you’re here, and you’re alive. That’s what matters."

He needed to hear that you weren’t disappointed and that you still loved him despite everything.

Daryl looked up at you, his eyes all red and swollen, but his sobbing began to calm down. And as he finally started to relax, his grip on you softened, but he didn’t let go. He was still clinging to you, needing you to remind him that he was loved and that he was enough.

"Thanks," he whispered quietly. "For… everythin’."

You smiled to yourself, playing with his hair. "Anytime," you murmured, pressing another soft kiss to the top of his head.

You didn’t need to say anything more; your arms around him were enough to help him find his way back to feeling okay. The walls he’d built were finally down, and for now, he was just Daryl—raw and in need of someone to help him piece himself back together.

TAG-LIST: @itwasntaphasema

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reiding-writing · 10 months ago

Note

Hey Red! I really enjoyed all of your writings especially because I am also a sucker for angst and hurt/comfort fic. Anyway, can I request fic about post-prison Spencer x reader (romantic) where the reader is the one who distanced herself from Spencer because after the first time Spencer released from prison, he doesn't want to touch anyone? Bet he'll be so heartbroken and thinking that she's over their relationship. Thank you! Sorry if it's too specific ❤️

distance [ s.r ]

Spencer makes a show of physically distancing himself from his teammates after he returns from prison, and in trying to abide by that boundary you accidentally misread his intentions

WARNINGS: miscommunication, established relationship

pairing: post-prison!spencer x gn!reader

genre: ANGST, hurt/comfort, happy ending

wc: 1.6k

masterlist!!

a/n: gave this one a happy ending as an apology for transgression-

You waited for 84 days to see him again; And yet now he’s stood here in front of you you can’t even bring yourself to speak to him.

He’s thinner than you remember. His cheekbones show more prominently. He has stubble lining his chin. His hair is more unruly. His eyes don’t shine anymore.

Spencer changed in those 84 days, and the second you caught his eyes a hairline fracture formed in your heart.

Gone was the Spencer who would light up at the most insignificant thing. Gone was the Spencer who would look at you with those sweet innocent eyes that would make you weak at the knees. Gone was the Spencer who would link his pinky finger in yours so that he could anchor himself to you no matter where you were.

Gone was the Spencer you knew.

Your Spencer didn’t exist anymore.

You watched as he swerved a hug from Morgan as he entered the office, clasping both of his hands behind his back with an awkward smile as he walked through the bullpen towards you were standing in front of his desk, eerily resembling the 23 year old Spencer who avoided everyone like they had the plague.

“Hey Spence…” Your voice is a lot more breathless than you thought it’d be, only amplified as you look into those gorgeous hazel eyes that you’d dreamed about being able to look into again for the past three months. “..How are you?”

It’s a completely unnecessary question Spencer thinks, it makes it sound like you’re just his co-worker and not the love of his life.

“I’m alright…” His eyebrows twitch when you take a few steps away from his desk as he nears you, like you can’t bear to be too close.

Then again, he probably looks like hell, so he can’t entirely blame you.

But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

“That’s good,” You press your lips into a line, nodding softly with your eyes flickering everywhere except his face. He’d been gone for 84 days, but you were treating him like you’d never met.

“I’m gonna go make some coffee-” You point lamely towards the kitchenette with your thumb, sliding past him to walk towards it as he watched you leave, eyes burning into the back of your head.

It was a weird feeling to say the least. You were ecstatic that he was home, that you could finally see his beautiful face again and know that he wasn’t suffering in a prison cell. But you weren’t sure how to express that. Whether you should express that.

You fumble with the coffee machine as you lose yourself in your thoughts. Everything about Spencer’s body language when he entered the office told you he wanted space, and you wanted to respect that.

You understood that he’d definitely been through a lot over the past few months and that he wanted time to collect himself before he let anybody else back in; But the way he looked at you when you moved away from him made you unsure. Did he want to be left alone? Did he actually want you to suffocate him with a hug like you were originally planning on doing?

You weren’t sure. And that was the worst part, because depending on which option you chose you could unintentionally swerve things into being worse than they already were.

You chose the safe option. Let him come to you. Leave him be and allow him to choose what he wanted.

He didn’t approach you for a few days, and you figured that meant your decision was correct, that he truly did just want some space to gain his bearings again and allow himself the downtime to focus on himself before anyone else.

You were wrong.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Spencer caught you right as you left the office, stood in the middle of the hallway leading to the elevator with an exhausted expression on your face after working for almost 10 straight hours.

You do nothing more than blink in his direction at his question, exhaustion morphing into confusion once your eyes catch him expression.

You could see his own tiredness echoed through the bags forming under his eyes and the way his shoulders slumped at his sides, but you could also see a flicker of hurt floating around in his gaze, seemingly amplified under the white florescents as if to torture you.

“I’m- not avoiding you Spencer,”

“Yes you are.” His tone is rigid, a stark difference from the soft and whispered tone you’d grown used to with him. It felt like having a bucket of ice water poured over your head, and as if to physically acknowledge that feeling, a shudder ran its way up your spine and into the base of your skull. “Every time I’m within ten feet of you, you make an excuse to leave.”

You can’t really argue with him there. You had been keeping your distance. But only because you thought that’s what Spencer wanted.

“Do you not love me anymore? Is that it? Am I too broken for you now?”

“What- No-” Your confusion turns into shock at his accusations, and you immediately shake your head in denial.

“Then why are you treating me like a stranger you’ve never met?” His tone borders between angry and upset, and you can see the start of tears forming in his eyes as he stares at you like you’d just ripped up a first-edition copy of his favourite book.

“I waited for the day i’d finally be able to see you again and now you’re acting like I never existed in your mind at all.” You can hear the strain in his voice as he tries to stop it from cracking under his emotions.

“Spence-”

“Have you moved on? You found someone better for you right?”

“Spencer-”

“I hope he makes you happy-”

He barely has time to get out the last sentence as you give a sharp tug on his tie and pull his face down to yours, effectively silencing all of his insecurities with a kiss. It’s soft but firm, and slightly salty. He must’ve started crying.

“I love you Spencer.” Your words hold no room for debate as your lips part from his, connection maintained through the way your foreheads press together.

“But you- Why did you- I thought…” His mind seems to run a thousand miles a minute as he stares at you, finally close enough to see the details of your face that nobody else had the privilege to know. “I thought you didn’t love me anymore…”

“Spence…” You shake your head as it rests against his, a firm denial of his doubt in your complete and utter adoration of him.

“But you kept moving away from me whenever i’d try to come over to you,” He speaks through stuttered breaths, his eyes squeezed shut to hopefully stop the tears that assault his cheeks, running hot down his skin and pooling underneath the curve of his chin.

“I just thought you wanted space baby,” Your thumbs move deftly over his cheeks, wiping away the streaks of tears and taking Spencer’s insecurity with them. “I saw you dodging everyone’s advances and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,”

“I don’t want space from you,” When he opens his eyes again, they’re big, round, and still glistening with the moisture of his tears. But most of all they’re filled with nothing but pure affection for you. “I never want space from you…”

You sure that if you keep eye contact with him for much longer that you’ll start crying yourself, so you redirect his head to lie against your shoulder as you wrap your arms tight around his torso.

“I missed you…” His voice is so quiet that if you weren’t holding him in your arms you wouldn’t have heard it.

“I missed you too Spence,” Your head rests against his, you hand rubbing soft lines up and down his spine over his shirt as he soaks in all the affection he’s missed over the last three months.

“Can I stay at yours tonight? Please?” His gaze is enough of a ‘please’ in itself, but the way his voice drops to almost a whisper when he adds the plea onto the end of his question makes it impossible for you to deny him. Although it’s not like you were going to in the first place.

“Of course you can Spence,” You place a kiss to his left temple as you carefully break the hug, taking his hand in yours to lead him to the elevator. “Lets go home,”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #mgg #asks 🫶

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uravitypng · 3 months ago

Text

childhood friend bachira knew you had no interest in sports, watching or playing, but when you met you changed your mind.

childhood friend bachira changed too, he wasn't lonely anymore.

childhood friend bachira who you always supported ever since you met him, you tell him not to listen to all the people who call him strange or weird because he's your 'best friend and you know better than they do'

childhood friend bachira and you really fit opposites attracts each other. he's energetic and cheerful compared to your more subdued nature. however when you watch one of his matches you become the loudest in the crowd, cheering him on.

childhood friend bachira presented as an alpha which was a surprise to people who knew him, you included (you thought he would be a beta.) you didn't think he'd be an omega but you didn't think he'd be an alpha either. you may have presented as an omega a year before he did but you didn't look at him any differently- yeah, he was an alpha now but he's still your meguru, your best friend.

alpha childhood friend bachira who didn't realise his feelings until separated from you when he left for the blue lock project.

alpha childhood friend alpha bachira who missed your pretty face and round body.

alpha childhood friend bachira who missed your scent. lovely- just like you. vanilla and chocolate that pairs so well with your chamomile shampoo.

alpha childhood friend bachira realises now that he's older that he's feelings for you are farthest from platonic

alpha childhood friend bachira who never wanted to let you go when you saw each other for the first time again after so long.

alpha childhood friend bachira who's instincts went crazy seeing you again. you're just his perfect little mate (even if you don't know it yet)

alpha childhood friend bachira was so glad he was finally able to lay on your lap after not being able to for ages. your squishy thighs the perfect pillow for him to take a nap.

alpha childhood friend bachira became possessive of you, always scenting you whenever you went somewhere alone. you questioned it at first but he told you it was to keep you safe and ward other alphas away.

alpha childhood friend bachira likes that you like his scent as much as he likes yours, and he can tell.

alpha childhood friend bachira purposely snuggles up to you without wearing scent patches so his citrus smell makes your head dizzy and your face hot, you've never smelt anyone who smells as good. it's one of reasons you don't complain whenever bachira scents you.

alpha childhood friend bachira is territorial.

alpha childhood friend bachira was always comfortable being naked, even around you, you'd squeal in embarrassment and tell him to put clothes on, he'd laugh and listen to you. now it's even more frequent.

alpha childhood friend bachira who gets incredibly needy when he's nearing his rut. he wants to be around you all the time, wrapping his arms around your plush middle.

alpha childhood friend bachira wants to rut against you so bad, rubbing his cock against your soft body, imagining the noises you'd make and how you'd try and hide your face away from him because you're so shy.

alpha childhood friend bachira wants to ruin you. grab your wide hips and leave bruises as he whines and groans and call you his good girl, compliment you and praise you for being a good omega- his good omega.

alpha childhood friend bachira wants to sink his teeth in you so bad, mark you up, make you officially his.

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becauseicantthinkwritings · 7 months ago

Text

Objects in Motion

Part 2

Alpha!Billy Russo x Omega! Reader

Part 1 here

You’re deep in sleep when a loud bang wakes you.

Bolting up with a gasp, your heart pounds in your chest for a few minutes. You’re not sure what the noise was- a door slamming shut, or maybe something falling in the apartment above you, but the echo of it in your head keeps you awake for a while, hating that your anxiety doesn’t let you sleep.

You go to another dry cleaners, you do your best to avoid going out. You go to work, and back home for a couple of weeks, worried that someone will find you and scold you for what you’ve done.

You think about being scolded by him, you doubt you’d be able to last a moment in his presence.

After you’d ensured the safe delivery of the coat, did you finally research the owner.

William Russo, his stoic, borderline angry expression staring back at you through your computer screen had only made you aroused all over again.

This, this was the Alpha with a scent so magnetic, you couldn’t resist it.

He was rich, a CEO, and you could only look around your threadbare apartment and sigh sadly, there was nothing you could offer him that would interest him.

So, you try to move on with your life, work hard so you can afford to buy alleviators for your next heat, and stay away from alphas that would no doubt hurt you.

The art museum was a big comfort. On a Friday evening, when it was at its emptiest, you’d go in, and stare at all the paintings. You’d study the brushstrokes till your eyes burned, items like Starry Night, and Street Light were beautiful works that always made you dare to dream of a life better than the one you were in. Today however, The Lovers was the one that kept you most occupied.

Two people, with white cloths over their heads as they lean into each other, kissing. Hidden from each other’s sight, you wonder if the painting only holds its romance because of the seemingly anonymity of the subjects. If the mystery was removed, would there be more love, or less?

It was kind of how you felt right now, pained, searching for something that you weren’t familiar with. An alpha, to call your own.

None of the alphas you’d met had ever been right for you. There was an entitlement written into them, the belief that your station was lesser, so you were supposed to submit. Alphas constantly lived with that air of superiority surrounding them, and they were easily upset when you did not give them what they wanted.

The alphas you dated were wrong to think that submission was something freely given, in reality, it had to be earned.

You wondered if the alpha on your mind would ask nicely.

Probably not. It was a good thing he existed only in your fantasies.

Your omega privilege means you get to stay a little after closing. You smile gratefully in the security guard’s direction when he comes to escort you out.

“We’ve got a new piece coming in tomorrow. You won’t be able to stay late anymore, but I’m sure you’ll like it.”

You smile in delight.

“Do you know which one it is?” You ask.

“Not really, not much of an art guy, but it’s a big deal, really expensive.”

You nod, enthusiastically.

“Well, I can’t wait.” You reply, wishing the beta a good night when you finally reach the exit, pulling your jacket tighter around you to protect from the cold.

Not for the first time in his life, he feels the loneliness.

It’s only that he’s never felt it quite like this. Usually, people just didn’t want him, his mother gave him up when he was a baby, and he’d never really understood why. Through his life, people had assumed he’d present as a beta, because he’d been a scrawny kid. Things had only gotten worse when at ten, his alpha denomination had shown through.

Then, everyone had wanted a piece of him, an opportunity to say that they’d fought an alpha and won, uncaring of his age and size- the world had forced him to become ruthless very quickly.

He’d let the world’s rejection shape him, and he’d only realised that when he’d met Frank.

Frank had made him understand, that alphas were not supposed to be cruel, but rather the very definition of safety and security.

He'd tried his best to ignore the hollow feeling inside of him, and that had worked.

At least, it had, up until he'd smelled that stupid coat.

Now, it was like someone had taken a piece of him and ran off with it, ripped a carefully placed bandage off and left him with an open wound. He could feel the absence, like if it was a whole other person in the room.

He wanted his omega.

It was all he’d thought about now, as he pressed the coat to his nose every night, struggling to catch her fading scent, he wondered if he’d ever be able to sleep again when the scent fully faded.

He keeps going, maybe he even pushes himself harder, his work distracts him, helps him keep a clear head.

He’d even accepted a job to secure artwork for the museum, even though his specialty was protecting people, and Frank was usually the man that handled asset protection.

He’s following closely behind The Scream when he stops dead in his tracks.

One of his employees tosses him a confused glance, but he ignores it as he takes a deep inhale.

He’d know that vanilla scent anywhere, the smell of apples mixed in and his heart gives an eager kick.

Surely not-

He turns his head, sees a painting of two lovers hiding from each other, kissing through a shroud of white cloth. He studies it for a moment, his mind racing at speeds he can’t fathom.

When the painting gets too far ahead, he turns and resumes his stride, thinking about all the ways he can do his best to get what he wants.

He gets permission to access the security footage of the museum.

Who’s really going to deny an alpha anyway?

Billy finds her, or at least the back of her head, and he can’t help the excitement that after weeks of searching, he’s managed to get lucky and obtain a lead on her.

He talks to the security guard that walked her out. With a sleepy voice over the phone, the man tells him that she’s a frequent visitor to the museum on Fridays, and she doesn’t cause any trouble so he lets her stay a little after closing.

“She just likes looking at the pieces, and I can’t be mean to an omega as shy as her.”

Billy’s mouth twitches upward, amused at the biological imprint inside everyone to protect omegas. The men who’d done her a favour to deliver his coat had said near the same thing.

It had made him fond, of a sweet girl, that would no doubt be spooked if he showed up at her home unannounced. Even if he now had the means to trace her back to her home, he couldn’t take the risk. He had to play this right.

When you hear Edvard Munch’s The Scream is on display, you vibrate with excitement. Instead of going the opening week, you wait till your usual time the next Friday, when hopefully there’s much less of a crowd to contend with.

It’s not completely empty, but you’re okay with the sparse crowd, you smile, tiptoeing to peek over shoulders so that you can catch a sight of it before you’re at the front.

You love everything about it, the colour and the expressionism of it, you wonder how much the paint has faded over time. The little paragraph beside the painting describes an infinite scream, a universal anxiety, and you think you can almost feel that as you stare at it, the idea that you’re being watched sending a nervous thrill down your spine.

When you move away from the painting however, the feeling lingers. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes to shake the feeling, you don’t understand how a painting can have such an effect.

To clear your head, you find an impressionist nearby, Monet’s reflections of clouds on a lily pond, and you stand in front of it, letting out a long sigh.

When the distinct smell of bergamot hits you, you stiffen.

Your heart squeezes into your throat, and you try to look around as casually as possible, betas turn to look at you as they scent your distress in the air.

Did you feel like you were being watched- because you were actually being watched?

You take in another breath, and this time, you’re sure.

Cracked pepper, citrus-

The alpha was here.

Someone says your name behind you, and you turn in fright.

There he was. Dressed down in casual clothes, trying to blend in with the people around him- as if an alpha as handsome as him ever could.

Billy Russo was devastatingly gorgeous up close.

But you were fucked.

Your eyes widen and you take a step back, knowing that this was definitely about stealing his coat. He would no doubt try to make you pay for cleaning- or worse yet- a new coat entirely.

Your body flushes with fear as you back away from him on shaky legs.

His head tilts as he watches you go, dark eyes caught on your retreating form.

“Don’t run, omega.” He says easily, taking a single stride as you back away, his presence looming over you, igniting something in your stomach like a match being struck.

You make a small sound in the back of your throat, and you do exactly what he says not to.

You run.

Well, not exactly.

More like a quick walk, looking back to see if he follows, you beeline for the bathroom, hoping to hide in there for a moment.

You groan, splashing your face with water, internally grumbling over what you've gotten yourself into.

You should have never grabbed that stupid coat with your stupid omega senses always searching for the right alpha. What did you think? That just because he’d had an amazing scent meant that he wanted to take care of you?

No, he was probably going to scold you, and force you to pay him back, and you couldn’t afford three thousand for a coat.

Your throat tightens in panic, your body flushes with fear.

You couldn’t think too much on what he would do if he caught you, all you needed to focus on right now, was getting away.

So you take a deep breath and you shed your jacket, tucking it under your arm and stepping out of the bathroom behind someone.

There’s not a lot of people, but luckily you know the museum, and you take the most secluded paths that you doubt anyone unfamiliar to the museum would know of.

You sigh happily when you see the exit door in sight, making large meaningful steps, looking back every now and then. Behind you is empty, and you think that you might have actually lost him.

It sends a pang of sadness through you, but you shake your head to shove it away.

You look back once more when you push your way through the exit doors, making sure the path behind you is clear of any six foot alphas.

And you walk right into him.

You’re not sure it is at first, but his size and smell give it away. Your face is pressed securely to his chest, and his hands come up to grip your upper arms firmly.

You raise your head in panic, trying to wrench back from him.

“Relax omega, you’re not in any trouble, I promise.” He says, something in his voice that makes his words sound believable.

You whine in distress.

“Please, I’m sorry, I can’t afford to replace your coat. I shouldn’t have taken it.” You plead, voice wobbling with the struggle to speak under duress.

“Shh, little one, I’m not here to ask you for money.”

His words don’t register in your head, and you begin to cry. Thick swells of tears fall from the corners of your eyes.

“I can’t pay.” You struggle out in a tiny voice.

He grunts, his hands move to cup your face, your tears spilling onto his fingers instead.

“Omega.” He says meaningfully.

The command in his tone makes you look up at him, brain going quiet, the power of his voice catching your attention easily. His stern expression softens.

“I’m not here to make you pay for anything, and I promise you’re not in any trouble.”

You make a little sniffle.

“ ‘M not?” You ask weakly.

The corner of his mouth curves up.

“No, I just want to talk.”

“Talk?” You repeat dumbly.

His thumbs trace over your cheekbones gently, a soft tingling sensation swims in your head and settles at the top of your spine. Your eyelids flutter as you watch him nod.

“I’ve been searching for you for weeks, omega, since you left me that coat drenched in your sweet scent, I haven’t had a clear thought since.”

You gulp.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“Don’t be sorry just-” He squeezes his eyes shut as if he’s looking for the right words, “Have dinner with me. Tonight. My treat.”

You take a deep breath, eyes widening.

“I’m not sure it’s such a good idea.”

He lets out a swift breath, you worry that you might be aggravating him.

“What aren’t you sure about? Your safety?”

You feel your heart pick up its pace beneath your ribcage, tormenting your body with the feeling of panic.

You reach up, cupping his hands in yours and peeling them off your cheeks.

“Alphas are… notorious for getting angry when they don’t get their way.” You reply anxiously, your hands uncurling from his, filled with so much trepidation.

“I understand, but give me a chance to prove myself. There’s something between us, omega, you just have to open yourself up to it.”

You blink, stomach flipping as you debate your options.

You eye him warily, too afraid to say no, too scared of how he would react.

You take another step back, and his face looks pained, his body tense.

You shake your head, scared, taking another cautious step away.

“Please don’t run.” He says softly, it makes you pause.

Maybe… maybe a chance wouldn’t be so bad.

“What about lunch tomorrow?” Somewhere bright and public that would make you feel safer about being around him.

He lets out a slow breath.

“Lunch is great. Where?”

You think for a moment.

“We can meet right here, there’s a place not far from here with nice sandwiches.”

He inclines his head.

“Sandwiches are great.”

You give him a soft smile of amusement, still a little unsure.

“Okay, we’ll meet here tomorrow? Around 12?”

He nods, digging into his pockets for a moment before pulling a card out and extending it to you.

You blink, a little cautious, reaching for the obsidian coloured paper in his hand. You study the raised silver lettering, his name, his job title, his company.

“The one on the left is my cell. Let me know when you get here. If you want, we can look around the museum too.”

Something flips in your chest at the thought. You wonder what he thought of The Scream.

“No,” You mumble, shaking your head, “The museum is packed on a Saturday. I hate crowds.”

He nods in understanding.

“No crowds then, maybe we can take a walk in the park.”

“Maybe.” You reply, still a little unsure of this entire scenario.

“You're safe, Omega, I promise.”

You offer a sad smile.

“That's what they all say.”

He was going to kill every Alpha that had ever made you feel unsafe.

He sits in his car, after you'd denied his offer to at least take you home.

Your scent fades where he'd touched you, his body demanding more. Apples, so fucking sweet his mouth waters.

Halfway to his home, a text comes in from you, shyly informing him that you'd made it home.

He'd asked, wanted to make sure that you were safe as the late evening had turned to night.

He keeps it simple, types out a small message to put you at ease.

Thank you. Sweet dreams

A/N: Pretty sure y'all are gonna hate this. Sorry.

Also, just asking for more without leaving any kind of feedback makes me feel kinda used 😅

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #my writings #the punisher #omega!reader #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o verse #alpha!billy russo

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